Life in the North: An Apocalyptic LitRPG (The System Apocalypse Book 1) Tao Wong

Life in the North

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 1 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author�s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you�re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Chapter 1

Greetings citizen. As a peaceful and organised immersion into the Galactic Council has been declined (extensively and painfully we might add), your world has been declared a Dungeon World. Thank you. We were getting bored with the 12 that we had previously.

Please note that the process of developing a Dungeon World can be difficult for current inhabitants. We recommend leaving the planet till the process is completed in 373 days, 2 hours, 14 minutes and 12 seconds.

For those of you unable or unwilling to leave, do note that new Dungeons and wandering monsters will spawn intermittently throughout the integration process. All new Dungeons and zones will receive recommended minimum levels, however, during the transition period expect there to be significant volatility in the levels and types of monsters in each Dungeon and zone.

As a new Dungeon World, your planet has been designated a free-immigration location. Undeveloped worlds in the Galactic Council may take advantage of this new immigration policy. Please try not to greet all new visitors the same way as you did our Emissary, you humans could do with some friends.

As part of the transition, all sentient subjects will have access to new classes and skills as well as the traditional user interface adopted by the Galactic Council in 119 GC.

Thank you for your co-operation and good luck! We look forward to meeting you soon.

Time to System initiation: 59 minutes 23 seconds

I groan, freeing my hand enough to swipe at the blue box in front of my face as I crank my eyes open. Weird dream. It�s not as if I had drank that much either, just a few shots of whiskey before I went to bed. Almost as soon as the box disappears, another appears, obscuring the small 2-person tent that I�m sleeping in.

Congratulations! You have been spawned in the Kluane National Park (level 110+) zone.

You have received 7,500 XP (Delayed)

As per Dungeon World Development Schedule 124.3.2.1, inhabitants assigned to a region with a recommended level 25 or more above the inhabitants current level will receive one Small perk.

As per Dungeon World Development Schedule 124.3.2.2, inhabitants assigned to a region with a recommended level 50 or more above the inhabitants current level will receive one Medium perk.

As per Dungeon World Development Schedule 124.3.2.3, inhabitants assigned to a region with a recommended level 75 or more above the inhabitants current level will receive one Large perk.

As per Dungeon World Development Schedule 124.3.2.4, inhabitants assigned to a region with a recommended level 100 or more above the inhabitants current level will receive one Greater perk

What the hell? I jerk forwards and almost fall immediately fall backwards, the sleeping bag tangling me up. I scramble out, pulling my 5� 8� frame into a sitting position as I swipe black hair out of my eyes to stare at the taunting blue message. Alright, I�m awake and this is not a dream.

This can�t be happening, I mean, sure it�s happening, but it can�t be. It must be a dream, things like this didn�t happen in real life. However, considering the rather realistic aches and pains that encompass my body from yesterday�s hike, it�s really not a dream. Still, this can�t be happening.

When I reach out, attempting to touch the screen itself and for a moment, nothing happens until I move my hand when the screen seems to �stick� to it, swinging with my hand. It�s almost like a window in a touchscreen which makes no sense, since this is the real world and there�s no tablet. Now that I�m concentrating, I can even feel how the screen has a slight tactile sensation to it, like touching plastic wrap stretched too tight except with the added tingle of static electricity. I stare at my hand and the window and then flick it away watching the window shrink. This makes no sense.

Just yesterday I had hiked up the King�s Throne Peak with all my gear to overlook the lake. Early April in the Yukon means that the peak itself was still covered with snow but I�d packed for that, though the final couple of kilometers had been tougher than I had expected. Still, being out and about at least cleared my mind of the dismal state of my life after moving to Whitehorse. No job, barely enough money to pay next month�s rent and having just broken up with my girlfriend, leaving on a Tuesday on my junker of a car was just what the doctor ordered. As bad as my life had been, I�m pretty sure I wasn�t even close to breaking down, at least not enough to see things.

I shut my eyes, forcing them to stay shut for a count of three before I open them again. The blue box stays, taunting me with its reality. I can feel my breathing shorten, my thoughts splitting in a thousand different directions as I try to make sense of what�s happening.

Stop.

I force my eyes close again and old training, old habits come into play. I bottle up the feelings of panic that encroach on my mind, force my scattered thoughts to stop swirling and compartmentalise my feelings. This is not the time or place for all this. I shove it all into a box and close the lid, pushing my emotions down until all there is a comforting, familiar, numbness.

A therapist once said my emotional detachment is a learned self-defense mechanism, one that was useful during my youth but somewhat unnecessary now that I�m an adult with more control over my surroundings. My girlfriend, my ex-girlfriend, just called me an emotionless dick. I�ve been taught better coping mechanisms but when push comes to shove, I go with what works. If there�s an environment which I can�t control, I�m going to call floating blue boxes in the real world one of them.

Calmer now, I open my eyes and re-read the information. First rule � what is, is. No more arguing or screaming or worrying about why or how or if I�m insane. What is, is. So. I have perks. And there�s a system providing the perks and assigning levels. There�s also going to be dungeons and monsters. I�m in a frigging MMO without a damn manual it looks like, which means that at least some of my misspent youth is going to be useful. I wonder what my dad would say. I push the familiar flash of anger down at the thought of him, focusing instead on my current problems.

My first requirement is information. Or better yet, a guide. I�m working on instinct here, going by what feels right rather than what I think is right since the thinking part of me is busy putting its fingers in its ears and going �na-na-na-na-na�.

�Status?� I query and a new screen blooms.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

None

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

None

Health

100

Stamina

100

Mana

100

Status

Twisted ankle (-5% movement speed)

Tendinitis (-10% Manual Agility)

Attributes

Strength

Agility

Constitution

Perception

Intelligence

Willpower

Charisma

Luck

Skills

None

Class Skills

None

Spells

None

Unassigned Attributes:

1 Small, 1 Medium, 1 Large, 1 Greater Perk

Would you like to assign these attributes? (Y/N)

The second window pop�s up almost immediately on top of the first. I want more time to look over my Status but the information seems mostly self-explanatory and it�s better to get this over with. It�s not as if I have a lot of time. Almost as soon as I think that, the Y depresses and a giant list of Perks flashes up.

Oh, I do not have time for this. I definitely don�t have time to get stuck in character creation. Being stuck in a zone that is way out of my level when the System initializes is a one-way ticket to chowville. The giant list of perks before me is way too much to even begin sorting through, especially with names that don�t necessarily make sense. What the hell does Adaptive Colouring actually mean? Right, this system seems to work via thought, reacting to what I think so, perhaps I can sort by perk type � narrow it down to small perks for a guide or companion of some form?

Almost as soon as I think of it, the system flashes out and only the word Companion appears. I nod slightly to myself and further details appear, providing two options.

AISpirit

I select AI but a new notice flashes up

AI Selection unavailable. Minimum requirements of:

Mark IV Processing Unit not met

I grunt. Yeah, no shit. I don�t have a computer on me. Or... in me? No cyberpunk world for me. Not yet at least, though how cool would that be with a computer for a brain and metallic arms that don�t hurt from being on the computer too much. Not the time for this, so I pick Spirit next and I acknowledge the query.

System Companion Spirit gained

Congratulations! World Fourth. As the fourth individual to gain a Companion Spirit, your companion is now (Linked). Linked Companions will grow and develop with you.

As I dismiss the notifications, I can see a light begin to glow to my right. I twist around, wondering who or what my new companion is going to be.

�Run, hide or fight. Ain�t hard to make a choice boy-o.�

Look, I�m no pervert. I didn�t need a cute, beautiful fairy as my System Companion Spirit. Sure, a part of me hoped for it, I�m a red-blooded male who wouldn�t mind staring at something pretty. Still, practically speaking, I would have settled for a Genderless automaton that was efficient and answered my questions with a minimum of lip. Instead, I get� him.

I stare at my new Companion and sigh mentally. Barely a foot tall, he�s built like a linebacker with a full, curly brown beard. Brown hair, brown eyes and olive skin in a body-hugging orange jumpsuit that�s tight in all the wrong places completes the ensemble. Ali my new companion has been here for all of 10 minutes giving me the lowdown and I�m already partly regretting my choice.

Partly, because for all of his berating, he�s actually quite useful.

�Run,� I finally decide, pulling apart the chocolate bar and taking another bite. No use fighting, nothing in the store that could scratch a level 110 monster is going to be usable by me according to Ali and while there�s no guarantee one of them will spawn immediately, even the lower level monsters that will make up its dinner would be too tough for me.

Hiding just delays things, so I have to get the hell out of the park which really, shouldn�t be that hard. It took me half-a-day of hard hiking to get up this far in the mountain from the parking lot and the parking lot is just inside the new zone. At a good pace, I should be down in a few hours which if I understand things properly means there aren�t that many monsters. Once I�m out, it seems Whitehorse has a safe zone which means I can hunker down and figure out what the hell is going on.

�About damn time,� grouses Ali. A wave of his hands and a series of new windows appear in front of me. Shortly after appearing he demanded full access to my System which has allowed him to manipulate the information I can see and receive. It�s going a lot faster this way since he just pushes the information to me, letting me read through things while he does the deeper search. The new blue windows - System messages according to him - are his picks for medium and large perks respectively.

Prodigy: Subterfuge

You�re a natural born spy. Intrepid would hire you immediately.

Effect: All Subterfuge skills are gained 100% quicker. +50% Skill Level increase for all Subterfuge skills.

�Why this?� I frown, poking at the Subterfuge side. I�m not exactly the spying kind, more direct in most of my interactions. I�ve never really felt the need to lie too much and I certainly don�t see myself creeping around breaking into buildings.

�Stealth skills. It gives a direct bonus to all of them which means you�ll gain them faster. A small perk would allow us to directly affect the base Stealth skill but at this level, we�ve got to go up to its main category.� Ali replies and continues, �If you manage to survive, it�ll probably be useful in the future anyway.�

Quantum Stealth Manipulator (QSM)

The QSM allows it�s bearer to phase-shift, placing himself adjacent to the current dimension

Effect: While active, user is rendered invisible and undetectable to normal and magical means as long as the QSM is active. Solid objects may be passed through but will drain charge at a higher rate. Charge lasts 5 minutes under normal conditions.

�The QSM � how do I recharge it?�

�It uses a Type III Crystal Manipulator. The Crystal draws upon ambient and line specific�� Ali stares at my face for a moment before waving his hand. �It recharges automatically. It�ll be fully charged in a day under normal conditions.�

�No level requirements on these?�

�None.�

I picked Ali because he knows the System better than I do, so I can either accept what he�s saying or I can do it myself. Put that way, there�s really not much of a choice. It�s what we talked about, though that Perk Subterfuge isn�t really going to be that useful for me. On the other hand, any bonuses to staying out of sight would be great and the QSM would let me run away if I was found out. Which just left my Greater Perk.

Advanced Class: Erethran Honor Guard

The Erethran Honor Guard are Elite Members of the Erethran Armed Forces.

Class Abilities: +2 Per Level in Strength. + 4 Per Level in Constitution and Agility. +3 Per Level in Intelligence and Willpower. Additional 3 Free Attributes per Level.

+90% Mental Resistance. +40% Elemental Resistance

May designate a Personal Weapon. Personal Weapon is Soulbound and upgradeable.

Honor Guard members may have up to 4 Hard Point Links before Essence Penalties apply.

Warning! Minimum Attribute Requirements for the Erethran Honor Guard Class not met. Class Skills Locked till minimum requirements met.

Advanced Class: Dragon Knight

Groomed before birth, Dragon Knights are the Elite Warriors of the Kingdom of Xylargh.

Class Abilities: +3 Per Level in Strength and Dexterity. + 4 Per Level in Constitution. +3 Per Level Intelligence and Willpower. + 1 in Charisma. Additional 2 Free Attributes per Level.

+80% Mental Resistance. +50% Elemental Resistance

Gain One Greater and One Lesser Elemental Affinity

Warning! Minimum Attribute Requirements for the Dragon Slayer Class not met. Class Skills Locked till minimum requirements met.

�That�s it?�

�No, you could get this too.�

Class: Demi-God

You sexy looking human, you�ll be a demi-god. Smart, strong, handsome. What more could you want?

Class Abilities: +100 to all Attributes

All Greater Affinities Gained

Super Sexiness Trait

�That�s not a thing.�

�It really ain�t,� smirking, Ali waves and the last screen dismisses. �You wanted a class that helps you survive? That means mental resistances. Otherwise, you�ll be pissing those pretty little Pac-Man boxers the moment you see a Level 50 monster. You wanted an end-game? The Honor Guard are some mean motherfuckers. They combine magic and tech making them one of the most versatile groups around, and their Master class advancements are truly scary. The Dragon Knights fight Dragons. One on one and they sometimes even win. Oh, and neither, and I quote �makes me into a monster�.

�If these are Advanced Classes, what other classes are there?� I prod at Ali, still hesitating. This seems like a big choice.

�Basic, Advance, Master, Grandmaster, Heroic, Legendary,� lists Ali and he shrugs. �I could get you a Master class with your perk, but you�d be locked out of your class skills forever. You�d also take forever to level because of the higher minimum experience level gains. Instead, I�ve got you a rare Advanced Class - it�ll give you a better base stat gain per level and you won�t have to wait forever to gain access to your class skills. Getting a basic Class, even a rarer Basic class would be a waste of the Greater Perk. So what�s it going to be?�

As cool as punching a dragon in the face would be, I know which way I�m going the moment he called it up. I mentally select the Guard and light fills me. At first, it just forces me to squint but it begins to dig in, pushing into my body and mind, sending electric, hot claws into my cells. The pain is worse than anything I�ve felt and I�ve broken bones, shattered ribs and even managed to electrocute myself before. I know I�m screaming but the pain keeps coming, swarming over me and tearing at my mind, my control. Luckily, darkness claims me before my mind shatters.

Chapter 2

�You could have told me that was going to happen!� I shout at Ali who is hovering over my right shoulder as I rush the packing of my tent and gear.

�How was I supposed to know you�d bitch out and faint like a Goblin on his first date?� Ali smirks, contentedly floating alongside me and watching my back.

�You, I could, aaarrgggh!!!� I want to scream but I have to keep it contained as I keep packing. I have to push away that emotion and the fear that grips my guts, wanting to take over my control and force me to do nothing. We�ve lost over 2 hours already to my Class change and the System is up and running. The fact was that the System was now in place and had saturated the Park with mana, so much that spontaneous mutations were already cropping up all over the area according to Ali. I needed to get out of here, preferably quietly and fast. On top of it all, the smoke trail down the mountain where the parking lot was located just said a lot of bad things about what happened to my car. All in all, screaming was the least helpful reaction I could have at this point in time. Well, outside of sitting around like a blithering idiot. �You could help you know.�

�I am,� Ali sighs and waves his hand outwards. �I�m watching your back.�

I�d argue but at this point, the bag is packed and it�s time to go. I rip open another of my chocolate bars, chewing down on it as I slide the bag on and cinch up.

I spend a moment to look around the clearing again, a part of me registering the gorgeous view. Kathleen Lake sits in its glacial glory, waters rippling and throwing up waves as the wind howls around the snow-capped mountains that surround it. Pristine wilderness that could have been put on a postcard now shouts danger to me, forests hiding who knows what new monsters. I take a moment to check there isn�t anything else that I can do in my campsite and find nothing. The alpine underbrush around here is sparse, the trees small and stunted from having only a short summer to grow in, so I decide to bushwhack my way down the mountain rather than use the trail. Better to go slow and quietly than head down a trail straight into the waiting arms of whatever creature that decides to stake it out in this new world.

30 minutes in, I get a notification that I�ve received a skill called �Stealth�. I can�t say I�m surprised, sneaking was part of the plan Ali and I had come up with. Between my medium perk and being seriously under-leveled in a high mana environment, the System is automatically generating additional bonuses to learning rates to help balance the risk/reward ratio. The moment the notification happens, I can a slight tingle go through my body and I feel the knowledge shift the way I move, think and just analyse the surroundings.

The first sign of trouble that I encounter is the chittering. It�s way too loud. I spot it next, a black shadow the size of a Doberman moving along the ground on six legs with antennae. Ants should not be that big. I freeze, then begin to back up slowly. Thank the gods it hasn�t seen me.

�Oy, you big black beauty. Over here! Tasty morsel for your Queen. Yoo hooo!� a manically grinning Ali shouts above me, waving his arms to get attention.

�What the fuck!� I don�t have time to do anything beyond begin berating him since the ant, drawn to the little bugger�s antics, turns to me and after a brief moment�s hesitation charges directly at me. I bring my walking stick up and lunge forwards, hoping to spear it.

Yeah, not a fencer. Also, not a sword. The point skitters off harmlessly and the ant is on me, bowling me over and attempting to behead me with its mandibles.

I heave, bucking around before managing to throw it off me. Thank god my backpack helps a little with that, the entire angle all kinds of wrong for lying flat. I even manage to get the ant to flip over underneath me when I throw it off. On top of the ant, I splay my body outwards to help hold it in place before laying the walking pole across its neck, holding it in place with one arm while I desperately hunt for my survival knife. It takes a moment to find on my belt and then it�s just a few minutes of desperate stabbing before the creature stills.

I�m dirty, smelly and covered in ant guts. I don�t give a shit about all of that as I stand up, absolutely furious. �What in the hundred hells was that?�

�Training.� Ali shrugs unconcerned, �You needed to level up. That was a Level 1 Ant. No way you�d be able to find easier prey. Now you grabbing your loot?�

�You, you, you�� I splutter to a stop, turning to the ant instead and kicking it a few times to take out the accumulated frustration and fear. Adrenaline spent, I slump down beside the ant�s body before I finally register what he said. �Loot?�

�Place your hand on the body and either think or say Loot.�

I comply and blink at the pop-up that appears. I reach out, grabbing the loot that is displayed before grimacing. A hunk of ant meat.

�Put in your inventory stupid.�

I�ve given up even questioning the insane things that are happening by now, forcing myself to just accept. When I think inventory, a grid 5 by 5 appears. Putting my hand into a grid has the meat appear in it, filling a space. I wonder if its stackable?

�Nice,� I start reaching to undo my bag when I get called up short.

�Don�t bother, only System generated items can go into the inventory,� Ali comments as he continues to spin around me.

�Ugh. What a damn scam,� I grumble, keeping my bag on as I stare at the rest of the ant body. I guess this new world doesn�t have a dissolving corpse gimmick.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 2 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 3 Free Attributes to distribute. Class skills locked.

Strange that the notification pops up only now. Then I pause, glancing to Ali who gives me a thumbs up. Ah, he�s suppressing them till it makes sense to view them. I had been rather disappointed when I first woke up that the saved experience I had earlier hadn�t leveled me up, even to Level 2 but Ali did explain that Advanced Classes had higher experience requirements. One look at my free stat points and I dump them all into Luck. Yeah, I know there might be smarter things to do with the points, things like maximising my Agility or perhaps my Strength to become all powerful.

Anyone who thinks that though hasn�t lived my life. If my Luck stat really is that low, it�d explain a hell of a lot of things about my past. I wouldn�t even be in the Yukon if my apartment hadn�t burnt down a week after I lost my job as a programmer which led to me coming up here with my then girlfriend. What a shitshow that had become with her too, once we got up here. The damn insurance company wouldn�t even accept my claims, which left me with nothing to my name beyond some meager savings. Rather than going home in shame to my father, I picked up and moved to a new Territory. I�d rather die than see my father like this. Now that I�ve got a chance to redirect some bad Karma or fate, I�m taking it.

�You know, it ain�t that kind of lucky right boy-o?�

I am a bigger man than him. I am a bigger man than him. I am a bigger man than him. I give him the finger and head down, both of us getting serious again.

The rest of the day sees me climbing down cautiously, scooting around the rather ubiquitous giant creatures when I can and occasionally slaying them when I can�t. The slaying wasn�t my decision but after some hurried negotiation, Ali and I came to an agreement. He�d let me know of any low-level monsters we came across and I�d attack and kill them if I could do it safely. In return, he�d not force my hand � so long as I was actually making a good will effort. If I was in the army, I�d call him a drill sergeant. Since I�m not, I just call him an asshole.

Things only got really scary once, when I walk under what I thought were a pair of trees and realised it was the legs of what I can only describe as a giant ogre. Thankfully, his first swipe missed and once I had him thinking I was running downhill, I activated the QSM and ran back uphill past him. I spent the next half-hour watching him rampage downhill, knocking down trees and smashing other monsters that got in his way. I�d never been more scared in my life, especially since the ogre�s diet seemed to consist of anything fleshy.

On the other hand, I had him to thank for my highest level kill so far � a trapped fox whose spine had been shattered by a fallen tree. The loot just consisted of more organ parts and its fur, but I�m not complaining about free experience and loot.

I�d like to say I spent the rest of the day struggling down the hill, heroically pushing past exhaustion and the fear, but by 3, I was done. Being in a constant adrenaline high, hiding and backing off constantly had worn me down and I knew if I kept this up, I�d make a mistake. I wasn�t making good time at all, barely having covered half the ground I needed to. When I found a small depression that was relatively well hidden I just gave up, pulling out my cellphone and try to boot it up. It doesn�t, just staying dead and I look at Ali.

�Don�t bother. Electronics are always the first to go once ambient mana reaches this point. If it�s not shielded or made to work with mana, it all shorts out,� Ali explains.

�Fuck. All electronics?� I prod and he nods. Damn, that probably means most new vehicles are dead along with the Internet, cellphones and most modern conveniences. I rub my temple, putting the cellphone away and curl up, deciding to rest for a few minutes. I must have slept because the next thing I knew, it was 7pm.

�Why us?� I queried Ali as I made dinner from my camping supplies.

�Unique snowflakes you humans. Perfectly unique with boundless potential,� Ali who has been keeping watch outside answers without looking back to me.

�Enough sarcasm. Really, why us? Why now?�

�Sorry to say, there ain�t no good reason. The ambient mana flow finally reached a point where you could be added to the System.�

�Alright, let�s back off a second. What�s mana? I keep seeing it on my Status screen and you keep mentioning it but it explains nothing.�

�I got a thousand explanations and none for you boy-o. Nanites that enter and control your body using quantum strings and ultra-dimensional energy. Or you could call it the ambient force of the universe, the singular force that makes up all the elements. It could be dark matter made flesh or magic. It�s all the same, just people prattling on without a clue,� Ali shrugs. �It�s what surrounds us, what makes the System work.�

�Okay, then what�s the System?�

�The blue boxes. The experience points. The loot. The Shop which lets you buy anything from anywhere or from the Shopkeepers who rent the place. It�s the way we upgrade our world and ourselves. It�s what constrains me to working with you and for you. It�s everything. The System�s your world, your universe now,� exclaims Ali fatalistically.

�I thought the Galactic Council created it, I mean, their announcement�� I waved my hand to where the blue boxes were.

�The GC make something? About the only thing those bureaucrats could make is a pile of shit. And that�s only because they�d been told where to sit. Those idiots only have the loosest control over the System and the galaxy�s happier that way. Just leave it, kid, the System just is.�

�Come on, you�re not a little curious about what the System is? It rules our lives and��

�Enough. Just stop already,� Ali spins around, floating up to my face and glaring at me.

�I just want to know damn it!�

Congratulations! Quest Granted. The System

Find out what the System is.

Rewards: Knowledge is power. Or something.

The moment the quest appears, Ali lets out a groan and just floats away. I read it over and then dismiss it before I speak again. �What�s your problem?�

�Nothing. Nothing at all,� Ali just sits in the sky, floating with his legs crossed and refusing to face me.

�Ali.�

�I hate that Quest. It�s the fucking turd-bucket of the galaxy. Everyone gets it, and everyone thinks they�ll be the first one to solve it. And then you end up spending the next 80 years of my life sitting in a fucking library, debating with other fucking researchers over a Kricklik written article first published 2,000 years ago! And then, well, fuck�� as he speaks his voice gets louder and louder.

�I got it, I got it. You have issues. Can we please not bring the forest down on us?� I gesture with my palms down, trying to shush him.

Calming down slightly, Ali growls. �I ain�t got issues. You need tissues.�

Ummm�. Okay, moving along. Quests eh, I guess if the system continues to work the same way, then the Quest tab is under�

Quests

Unique

Get out of Kluane National Park alive

Party

None

System

Unravel the secrets of the System

�When did I get that quest?� I mutter to myself, staring at the first quest listed.

�Oh, I accepted that one for you while you were playing electric eel.�

�You can accept quests for me!� I stare at Ali, �How much control did I actually give you?�

�Not enough lucky boy,� Ali smirks before he shrugs. �I�m your Companion. Can�t do anything to hurt you and you were getting out of here anyway. Didn�t matter if I accepted it or not.�

�Fine, just let me know, will you? I don�t like surprises like that,� I close out the tab then stare at him a bit more. �What exactly is a companion?�

�About frigging time. I�m a System Companion � Spirit Type to be exact. As a System assigned companion, I get access to your interface and certain aspects of the System that general users don�t. We�re linked so once you man up, I�ll get more abilities too. At Level 2, I got access to information about the monsters that are in the System around us. Later on, I�ll be able to provide you more details and at even higher levels, I�ll be able to share my Elemental Affinity and even gain a body.�

I nod in thanks to Ali and then fall silent, pondering what he said. Seems like having him as a Linked Companion was more powerful than I thought. Still, there was so much to learn. �There a Help file?�

A hand waves and in a moment, a giant blue box of text drops in front of me. I grunt and lean further back into the cave to begin reading. Hours later, I have a better understanding of the basics. The base attributes were pretty self-explanatory, though interestingly enough Stamina dictated not only my base Health but how fast I healed. Each point basically healed the same amount per minute. Intelligence dictated how large a mana pool I had while Willpower refreshed that pool on a per minute basis based on its statistical value. Of course, I didn�t really know how useful that was right now since I didn�t have anything that used Mana, but it�s still good information.

Interestingly enough, Health wasn�t just how physically healthy I was. It was actually a numerical value for how much damage the mana embedded in my body would actually absorb, defraying damage done to me. It wouldn�t stop instant death if I had a pick shoved through my brain, but it would actually reduce the force of the pick as it impacted me if I had a large enough Health pool. Of course, that used up some of the embedded mana, reducing my �Health� at a more drastic rate. Such a strange thing, especially since this embedded mana was completely different from the mana that I could use for spells. As I fight off another yawn, I turn to poking at more information about the things I saw on the Status screen.

Class skills were special skills, abilities that relied on Mana to produce their effects. They generally broke the law of physics, the amount dependent upon the skill itself. Some of the common examples make me think of action movies and anime - the ability to generate fire from my hands or get an armor-plated body seemed just cool.

Spells, on the other hand, were just that, magical spells that used Mana to cast. The distinction between what was considered a skill and what a spell seemed a bit arbitrary to me, but perhaps it would clarify when I actually get either one of them.

And Perks, well, perks were things you gained for completing special quests or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time it seemed. Small or large advantages over your everyday non-perked person.

Now we had numbers, points to say who we are, what we are, what we�re good or bad at supposedly. Would it have mattered when I was younger, to be able to point to a screen to say �I�m not who you think I am�, or would it have been the same? If my life had been governed before by this System, would I have tried to raise my Charisma or perhaps trained more to be stronger? Would I have failed less because I would have focused on things that I was good at already? Or would it not have mattered?

I sigh, rubbing at my eyes. There�s so much left to read, so much left to learn about this strange new world. I want to read more but I can�t fight off the exhaustion any longer, my eyes drifting shut.

Chapter 3

Congratulations. You survived an entire day! You humans really are an excellent bunch. Only 60% of you died yesterday. We are impressed. Have a cookie. And some experience. Remember, monster spawning will increase over the next week.

�60%� I shut my eyes as my mind attempt to grasp the meaning of that number. 60% - over 4 billion dead. 60% - 6 in 10 people I�ve ever met are dead. 6 in 10� that means, my family is dead since I�m alive. That last thought makes my breath catch, a yawning chasm of pain opening up. I�ve been avoiding thinking of them, of what this System means for the world but with this announcement, grief and rage and regret building. That chasm of pain and mixed emotions widens for a moment before it gets bunched away and put aside, compartmentalized. I don�t have time to deal with this now, I have things to do, my own life to keep alive.

�You know, crying is considered real manly in Kraska cultures. Of course, they�re sort of like your earth crocodiles,� Ali floats above me, watching me deal with my thoughts before he waves the notification away. �Let�s go boy-o.�

�Give me a moment,� I mutter.

�You aren�t really going to cry are you?� Ali asks, spinning completely upside down in boredom.

�No, no I�m not,� I state that confidently. I can feel the grief if I focus but it, like most of my other emotions are muted, like a heavy blanket thrown over a speaker. It�s there, just hard to access. Enough for me to function, at least mostly. I can tell though, even now, the grief is mixing with that rolling sea of anger that I live in.

Anger�

�Ali, find me something to kill,� I state dispassionately as I stand up and heft my bag. �Find me a lot of things to kill.�

Ali for once doesn�t give me lip, just doing as I requested.

�It�s dead,� Ali speaks placatingly to me as I give the Ground Squirrel one last stab. I might have gone a bit overboard there � the animal is pretty much in pieces. Thank the gods the Loot function doesn�t take into account the body of the creature, giving my prize without the rather nasty stab wounds.

�Ali, how do I get a better weapon?� I stare at my knife and the creature. Thank the gods I indulged my inner child when I picked it up and got a Bowie. Truthfully, it was way too much of a knife for camping but I had been on a Rambo kick when I bought it. Now, it�s my one and only weapon. Well, that and a can of bear spray.

�System Shop. That�ll be in a System generated safe haven, which currently is only in Whitehorse itself. You�ll need to sell your Loot to get it though, unless you get some System Credits which only sentients carry,� Ali continues to explain. �Still need to work out your feelings?�

�Let�s get out of here,� I shake head my head, the rage finally settled. I�m not sure what it says about me, that I took out my feelings on these creatures, but for now, I�m just going to ignore dwelling on that. It�s mid-morning already and I�ve only managed to make a couple of kills so far. Hunting is getting more and more dangerous as even Earth creatures mutate at an increasing rate, out-leveling me and my pitiful knife.

�Alright boy-o, same deal as yesterday,� Ali waves his hand down the path and I follow his directions.

Knife held out before me, I jump and swing downwards, the QSM deactivating at the last second as I plunge the knife into the Snowshoe Hare�s head. I hope I hit something important since the hare is now the size of a horse but much broader. It rears its head and only a hastily grabbed piece of fur keeps me on it as I repeatedly plunge the blade into the back of its head and neck.

A minute later, sufficient damage is done for the hare to fall over dead. A few moments ago, it finally managed to get me off its back by slamming itself into a nearby pine tree, breaking my shoulder and loosening my grip. As I lie on the ground, whimpering in pain I can�t help but wonder why Ali was so insistent I fight the Hare. I give mouth to my thoughts while I heal, pulling myself to sit at the base of the tree and pull another chocolate bar out of my pack. Thank god I always over-packed on the chocolate.

�Hare? I thought it was a Rabbit,� Ali frowns, floating above the creature. �Damn. And here I wanted to say �Nothing�s up, Rabbit.� �

�Down!�

I drop to the ground and am smashed to the side as the creature hits my backpack. I roll, coming up and face-to-face with a rabid ball of fluff with way too many teeth. I stab the walking stick in its maw, the creature biting down on the metal pole automatically. I keep shoving, pinning the creature to the ground as it begins to choke.

�Move!�

I jump, releasing the pole as another of the fluff monsters attacks me from the side, too focused as I am on killing the first. I lash out with my knife, cutting at the scratchy fur as I stumble backwards, desperately waving my weapon at it.

�To your right,� Ali calls out and I look right, backhanding the third Tribble monster. The blow catches it and sends it spinning away, tumbling down the hill. The second monster takes my brief distraction as a sign to bite my leg and I scream in pain, stabbing down with my knife again and again till it releases me.

I push off, hobbling to where the first fluff monster continues to gag and cough and I kill it by stomping on the creature, repeatedly doing so till it stops moving.

�Behind you again,� Ali calls out, bored now.

I spin, getting my arm up in time to let it chew on my forearm rather than my face and then proceed to stab it to death.

�Well, that�s one way of killing monsters. Maybe try not to let them snack on you as much when fighting next time,� Ali points out helpfully and I snarl at him, looting the balls of fluff. Really, fluff? That�s my loot? Fluff? Then again, what was I expecting from balls of fluff. I dump it in my inventory, grimacing and get moving to the stream I recall being around here, limping my way to it.

I wash my clothing as best as I can in the stream, Ali keeping watch above me. I work fast, getting rid of as much blood as I can without dampening my clothing too much. Wool or not, wet is wet and early April in Kluane means temperatures are only around 6 Celsius in the shade. As I clean myself, I ask Ali something that�s been troubling me. �Ali, how come the monsters never attack you?�

�They can�t see me,� Ali answers.

I frown, �But that first time��

�I can become visible with effort, but I can�t sustain it long, not yet at least,� Ali pauses, turning to the East before he speaks. �Time to go pretty boy. Company�s coming.�

I get up hastily, shaking the water off my hands as I take off at a low jog South West, doing my best to keep as quiet as possible.

The sun has nearly set when I finally arrive at the car-park. What should have been a half-day hike has turned into a two day ordeal. I�m not surprised to see the burnt remnants of my vehicle, though the hissed word �Salamander� gives me an idea of what could have caused the problem. Or would if I knew what a Salamander was.

�Giant lizard with a Greater Affinity to Fire magic. Breathes fire actually, some think it�s a lesser variant of a Dragon,� Ali explains. �Good news and bad news too.�

�Explain,� I murmur softly, eyeing the clearing for monsters.

�Bad news � it�s headed to your Haines Junction,� Ali motions to the rather obvious tracks. When I don�t bite at his silence, he sighs and explains the good news, �Its presence is likely to drive away most of the monsters from its path. Makes it safer to follow after. If it doesn�t double back.�

Great. Just great. I�m going to be following a giant, fire breathing lizard on its way to the closest source of civilization that I know of and hope it doesn�t notice me. At least it ain�t called Godzilla.

I�m not much of a gamer, but my ex was and I�d picked up enough of the lingo to know the term �kill stealing�. I would almost feel guilty, ending the life of these Lightning Elk and gaining some minuscule amount of experience from it, but considering they are either mangled or suffering from significant burns, I�ll call it a humanitarian act. Beyond those acts of mercy, I resolutely ignore the roasted, half-eaten corpses that make up the majority of the herd and the Salamander�s most recent meal.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 3 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 3 Free Attributes to distribute. Class Skills Locked

The locked skill draws a grimace from me but considering the ridiculous Stat increases, I can live with it. Since I have a brief moment, I pull up my Status Screen to review it.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

None

Health

190

Stamina

190

Mana

220

Status

Normal

Attributes

Strength

15 (50)

Agility

18 (70)

Constitution

19 (75)

Perception

Intelligence

22 (60)

Willpower

24 (60)

Charisma

8 (16)

Luck

Skills

Stealth

Wilderness Survival

Unarmed Combat

Knife Proficiency

Athletics

Observe

Cooking

Sense Danger

Class Skills

None (2 Locked)

Spells

None

Perks

Spirit Companion

Level 3

Prodigy (Subterfuge)

N/A

Unassigned Attributes:

Would you like to assign these attributes?

3 Stat Points

(Y/N)

�Whoa! Where did all those skills come from?� Seeing my Status Screen for the first time in days makes an eyebrow go up.

�You�ve been gaining them all along, I�ve just been hiding the notifications for now,� Ali shrugs, doing an aerial handstand as he waits for me.

�What! Why?� I growl at the little man, eyes narrowing.

�It�d be a distraction. It�s not as if you�d have done anything differently, would you? The skill gains from the System get added straight to your muscle memory and mind, so it�s not as if you haven�t been gaining from it as it stands. The rest is just numbers,� Ali sniffs. �Numbers mean jack shit if you aren�t doing anything. Best not to obsess.�

What he says reminds me of a conversation I had with a school counselor once. IQ means nothing if you don�t study he would always say. Hearing Ali mention something so similar, I can�t help but glare at him, �Next time, give me a summary every night will you? I�d at least like to know what�s happening.�

Ali sighs, acting all put upon as I get moving, adjusting the screen so that�s it�s mostly transparent as I get walking. I continue studying it, trusting in the little man to keep me informed. As annoying as he is, he�s a good lookout.

�Ali, the maths doesn�t make sense.�

�You got a few points from all that running and hiding you�ve been doing. And once you got a class, your Stats back paid into your Hit Points,� Ali states as if it�s the simplest thing in the world. To him perhaps, but it�d have been nice to know that could happen. The Help Guide he�d provided had given some understanding of things, but there obviously was still a lot that I didn�t understand. �Don�t expect any more though, you�ve leveled up to a point that unless you became a professional athlete, you�re better off spending your time leveling.�

I nod at his words and then try to decide on what to do with my free points but realise I have no clue, all of the minimums are so far away they might as well be on the moon. At a quick calculation, I�d need at least 18 Levels to get just my Strength up to my class level if I didn�t put any points into it. Instead, I leave the points unallocated for now. Maybe I�ll figure out what exactly I need later.

�Ali, question about messages. They seem to change in tone, from businesslike to well, kinda dickish.�

�Ah, well the base System messages are what you see mostly, the businesslike ones you mention. However, the GC has control of the messages too, so occasionally they take a hand especially if it�s something that interests one of their observers,� Ali explains.

�Observers?� I grunt, eyeing him and then the surroundings.

�Yeah, but you�d have to do something really big to get their notice. Don�t worry about it, not as if you can do anything,� Ali points out and I nod. I still find myself hunching my shoulders in a bit - Big Brother is watching.

A couple of hours later, I pause and pull out my compass. A quick reckoning of the path ahead and I look to Ali who nods confirmation to what I�ve guessed. The Salamander has changed course, moving away from the Junction.

Scarily enough, the Salamander is going to be one of the least powerful regular monsters that will inhabit the park from now on, using the overgrown and leveled up native fauna for its food source. Thankfully, the Salamander is dumb, a creature of pure instinct that roams the park and its surroundings.

Readjusting my backpack, I pick up the pace. Hopefully, there�s a car or some other vehicle I can borrow that�ll get me to Whitehorse. At the very least, there will be survivors who I can join.

Chapter 4

Crossing out the Park nets me a simple message and a reward. Nowhere close to getting enough for another Level Up but every little bit counts.

Quest Complete!

You have survived Kluane National Park and even managed to keep all your limbs!

5,000 XP Awarded

As I near Haines Junction, I try to recall what little I know of it. Town population of around 800, so there should have been at least a few hundred survivors left, if the numbers hold true. The smoke that I see rising from the center of the one road town has me worried though, so I take my time, diverting into a few local houses that make up the approach to the few buildings that make up the town center. I find a car and even keys but nothing works, the cars too new. Damn System.

I luck out when I do so, coming across food and clothing that I can use along with a real weapon at last � an abandoned .56 caliber rifle and a box of bullets. The rifle itself is trigger locked but thankfully, the trigger lock key is easy to find hanging on a nail right across the case. Thank the gods for human laziness.

Signs of struggle are everywhere including a few over-turned cars, pools of blood and smashed windows. Disturbingly, I find no bodies, though perhaps the survivors have collected them all for burial. At least, I hope that�s the case, though with the way many of the animals I�ve met have expanded their diets, I don�t hold much hope.

Armed with the new weapon, I venture closer to the town center. Never know what could be awaiting me, though I�m praying that Frosty�s is still standing. I could definitely make do with their milkshake, burger and fries.

Beyond one derogatory comment about the peashooter I picked up, Ali has been uncharacteristically quiet. A somewhat unfair observation perhaps � when it�s time to be serious, the Spirit is actually rather professional, if a bit much of a know it all.

The first sign of trouble is the overgrown mis-shappen head that I spot as I creep closer. Looking like a cross between a Neathredal and Big Foot, the 14-foot tall creature seems to be happily munching on its dinner. Things get even worse when I realise that that�s the kid as the mother, unclothed and very female strides over and drags her kid back to the center of the town. Ali frowns, staring at them and then a glowing green bar floats above their heads along with a short descriptor

Ogre Youth (Level 12)

Ogre Matron (Level 21)

I breathe deeply, quelling my pounding heart before I creep forwards further. Something about the meal the kid was holding nags me. I have to know, and when I do get close enough to see, I suddenly wish I didn�t. I�ve found the villagers, or what�s left of them. Surrounding a cookfire, there�s a good baker�s dozen of the adult Ogres, mostly in the Level 20 ranges, lounging after a truly epic feast. Playing in the bone pile is a pair of children, sword-fighting with the thigh bones of the former residents of Haines. The only consolation I have is that it looks like the villagers managed to kill a couple of the Ogres by the bodies that are laid aside with care.

I come to my senses when I realise my hands are aching, clutching the rifle so hard all the blood has gone from my fingers. Crawling back into hiding, I force myself to breathe deeply and take control of my emotions. Every time I begin to do so, I recall the small bones that I saw, the half-eaten face and I recall another child, crying and wondering why no one ever came to help. I draw a deep shuddering breath, my hands shaking and unshed tears in my eyes.

�There�s nothing we can do John. It�s time to go,� Ali murmurs consolingly.

�I�m going to kill them. Kill them all,� I hiss as rage burns within me, overflowing from its confines and wrapping me in its familiar embrace.

�Not a chance. Even that kid could take you down with a single hit. Give it up, we�ll come back another time,� Ali insists.

�I. Don�t. Care.� I snarl, standing up and moving as the anger consumes me. I�m not sure where, but I can�t keep still any longer.

�You can�t do this. As a group, they�d be a challenge for monsters five times their strength!�

Suddenly, I can feel the anger cool, turning ice cold as a mad plan forms.

The plan has three parts. Each part insanely dangerous. To complete the first part, I dump 2 points into Agility and another into Constitution to raise my Stamina. I�m going to need to be fast and fit for this.

Most monsters keep away from Haines Junction, the presence of the Ogres sufficient deterrent. The ones that don�t are quickly dispatched and added to the fire, their bodies butchered just like the humans. That works to my advantage as I get my plans ready. It takes a couple of days to pull what I need together, days that I barely sleep or eat in as I work at a feverish pace. Twice, I�m almost found out. I spend nearly two hours the first time, hiding beneath a truck waiting for the Ogre pair to move on. The second time, I have to use the QSM and duck pass the converging group to hide. I can tell they are beginning to suspect something, their actions getting more and more agitated as the days go by but they can�t find me even if they start huddling closer together and patrolling more.

Preparations finally complete in the Junction itself, I hide my supplies and take only the bare minimum that I need. The gun, two magazines full of bullets and enough food and water for a few days.

When I finally find my objective, I can�t help but feel my face split into a humorless grin. I can feel the tightness in my chest, the speeding up heartbeat and the dump of adrenaline as I sign my likely death warrant. It�s all secondary though, secondary to the rage that fills my being. I�ve had enough, of hiding and sneaking and fearing for my life. Enough of this System that has driven friends and family to death, to wipe out 60% of humanity�s population.

If I was going to die, at least I�ll do it trying to strike back. The last thought is punctuated by the crack of my rifle, the shot spinning hundreds of yards to smash into the unsuspecting Salamander. I work the bolt, firing again to lock its attention on me. When it turns and begins to lumber towards me, I take off.

I lure the creature to Haines Junction for hours, running as fast as I can and when it finally begins to catch up, using the QSM to disappear. I husband the use of the QSM, bolting as far as possible and hiding, sneaking away to give myself more distance before I attract its attention again by firing at it. It could go faster but I need the QSM to last me so I often take breaks when the Salamander roots around, searching for me. After a while, I expand the range I shoot from, firing from over half a kilometre away and mostly missing even if it is the size of a barn. Hurting it really isn�t the point anyway.

Only twice do I nearly die. Once is near the start, when a sudden surge in speed has it almost catch me. Only a last minute barrel roll gets me out of the way in time, leaving me with only a small wound before I activate the QSM and run like hell to a hiding spot. The second time, the Salamander launches a series of fire balls into the sky, landing them all around me. Fun fact about being in another dimension � I might be able to ignore most physical structures but energy � specifically heat energy crosses over. By the time I get away from the fire, I feel half-cooked and my flashing health bar in the corner of my vision matches. After that, I keep further away from the creature and only give it brief glimpses of me when I need to pull it closer.

By the time I reach the Junction, I�m nearly out of bullets. The Ogres are lined up, watching the incoming enraged monster. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see them, part 2 of the plan required that the Ogres be willing to fight. When they catch sight of me, they roar and one tries to step forward, only to be chivied back into line by the others. I grin, stopping a good hundred yards from them and waving cheekily at them before turning back to the incoming monster.

�Ali watch them,� I growl out, slipping the rifle from my shoulder one last time and lining up a shot on the Salamander. This time around, I need to hurt it enough to draw it all the way which means I need to make the shot. I draw a few deep breaths, trying to get my thundering heart to calm and my breathing to slow. Already past the boundary of its �natural� region, the Salamander will need a little more encouragement.

The first shot misses and I snarl, wishing I had spent more time at the range. I always said I would, but somehow never did. Too busy procrastinating. The second shot hits and the explosion is everything I wish it to be. The abandoned propane tank lights up behind the Salamander, too far away to do any real damage but scaring it slightly. Already annoyed with me, the creature charges forwards, smart enough to put the sounds of the gunshot and the annoyances it�s been facing for the last few hours together.

Bullets out, I toss the rifle to the side and hope I can retrieve it later. Rather than run immediately, I watch the Salamander charge me, waiting. Emboldened by the fact that I�ve finally stopped running, the Salamander picks up speed and when it is a bare hundred yards away I turn and sprint for the Ogres.

The Ogres are pissed, but without ranged weapons of their own, there�s little they can do to stop as I bring their end right to them. Just before I reach them, I trigger the QSM and let the club that�s swung at me pass through my body as I duck through their lines. A last, spiteful move makes me release the QSM long enough to plunge my knife into a creature�s back and then I take off, leaving the monsters to do their thing. As much as they�d like to chase after me, staying together to fight the Salamander is more important.

A safe distance away, I watch the battle unfold from hiding. It�s vicious and not nearly as one-sided as I would have expected. The Ogres hold their own against the Salamander at first, their oversized leader triggering some form of ability that wreathes its club in green as it smashes down on the Salamander. The blow does real damage which the other Ogres are quick to take advantage of, pummelling the dazed Salamander. At first, I almost think the Salamander might die without doing any damage.

That is until its entire body starts glowing red and it releases a cloud of red steam all around it. The Salamander seems to boil its own blood and releases it, scalding the surrounding attackers and driving them back. After that, the Salamander bites down on a female Ogre, ripping her arm from her body. The rest of the battle just gets bloody and nasty but half-way through, I realise something is wrong. It takes me a moment to realise what though.

�The kids aren�t here!� I snarl out towards Ali who is watching the fight with amusement, somehow having conjured up a bag of popcorn. He stops eating long enough to point before going back to ignoring me.

I follow his directions, sneaking from one building to another to find the children being guarded by the Ogre Youth. My eyes narrow, considering what to do, before I return to the main event. I smile grimly, the battle nearly over by the time I�m done, the badly injured Salamander roasting the last Ogre with its breath.

How do you like being cooked? A part of me is worried about the hateful glee that I�m exhibiting, but it�s a very small part. Once the Salamander is done finishing off the last of the main Ogres, I make sure it finishes the job, leading it by taunting it further to the children.

Part 2 complete, I smile humorlessly as the Salamander munches down on the Ogre Youth before I hurry away. I could end it here, revenge taken for the residents of the Junction. However, the rage is not quenched, my anger still needing a final outlet. The Salamander was a monster and it needed to die.

Part 3 was very simple in theory. In fact, I had made a big bet that it�d be the Salamander that was still alive at the end of the battle since I had built my little toy with it in mind. I�d hidden the weapon close on-hand and was grateful the Ogres weren�t familiar with human technology or too inquisitive as I find it untouched. Grabbing the shopping cart by its handles I wheel the contraption around to see the Salamander.

I cross my fingers, hoping this works and then shove, sending the entire cart hurtling towards the monster. It doesn�t understand what�s happening, but it does understand me running away which sends it chasing after me again, obviously wanting to finish me off at last.

Surprisingly, the first bump when it hits the Salamander head-on doesn�t set the entire thing off. The second, when its hind foot lands on the cart does. The cart is packed in layers. The innermost layer, what took serious effort, contains a bottle of home-brewed nitroglycerin. The bottle is sealed tight, packed with cotton around it to ensure that casual bumping doesn�t set it off. Around that, I packed half-filled gasoline cans interspersed with hair spray. Lastly, on the outside, I had a thin layer of nails, screws and nuts. This was my improvised bomb and what took the majority of my time to put together.

When it goes off, the improvised shrapnel does most of the damage as expected. The Salamander might be resistant to high heat and perhaps even partly resistant to the concussive force of the explosions, but there isn�t much it can do about the shrapnel that rips up from its foot and into its body.

Of course, I mostly figure that part out later. When the explosion happens, all I remember is sharp pain and the concussive force of the explosion throwing me forwards before blackness takes me.

When I wake up, I find Ali hovering over me with a worried look on his face. It disappears the moment I open my eyes, the unimpressed grump pulling back to his usual station. A slight twitch of his hand is all I see before my vision is filled with blue.

Congratulations!

You have been instrumental in the destruction of the Ogre Village (Newbie). Even down to the children. Who is the monster now?

+13,000 XP

Congratulations!

You have helped kill a Salamander (Level 108). You really shouldn�t play with bombs, next time they might go off at the wrong time.

+27,000 XP (XP apportioned according to damage done)

�Uhhh� Ali. Did the System just warn me off?� I eye the blue screen worriedly. Did Big Brother actually pay attention to what I did? Could they influence things if I tried something similar? Then again, I wasn�t exactly planning on doing this again. Half-remembered Youtube videos and chemistry classes were not the way to build bombs.

�Seems like it doesn�t it?� Ali replies as I dismiss that notification to keep going through the field of blue.

Title Gained

For killing a monster over a 100 levels higher than you, you have been awarded the title �Monster�s Bane�. All damage dealt to monsters of a higher level than you +15%

Congratulations!

For achieving your first title, you receive a bonus +5,000 XP.

Level Up! * 4

You have reached Level 7 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 15 Free Attributes to distribute.

Class Skills Locked.

My vision finally clear of the field of blue, I peruse my Status bars and other notifications slowly. Health is still below half and the little additional status icons tell me I�m concussed and exhausted. No shit. Still, no rest for the wicked and I push myself onto my feet, after which I proceed to vomit.

�That�s just nasty,� Ali sniffs and waits for me to mostly finish before continuing, �Now move it buttercup. Carrion creatures are coming soon and you need to finish looting.�

I grimace but get moving slowly, doing my best to not lose my breakfast again. Or is it lunch now? Dinner? Gods, I really don�t know and my head hurts way too much for me to care. Still, no complaints� I�m alive which is not what I was expecting. In fact, I�m pretty sure I wasn�t actually thinking straight these last few days. Who the hell lures a mini-dragon into a deathmatch with a group of Ogres that just wiped out a village by themselves and builds a bomb by hand?

The Salamander gets me a Salamander Fire Sac, its skin and more meat. Surprisingly, when I open my inventory to put the items away I realise that its increased in size again.

�Ali� am I seeing things?� I frown, staring at the new 6 by 6 grid.

�Nope, inventory space increases every 5 levels,� Ali explains and eyes it. �Lucky for you.�

I can�t help but agree since otherwise I�d have to toss some of this away. While items of the same type stacked, unique items needed their own slot and the different kinds of meat were all considered unique. Either way, lucky me. I grab the loot from the Salamander and dump it in my inventory, moving on. The children Ogres get me some Ogre skins while the adults are a disappointment at first, giving me an assortment of crude weapons, oversized armour, Ogre hide and 5,000 Credits in total. The credits go straight into my inventory as a notification, which helps since I�ve started leaving older loot like the Ant meat aside. When I finally get to the Ogre Chief, I carefully bend down to grab the club it dropped and almost drop it again when the notification pops up.

Enchanted Oversized Club of Smashing

Base Damage: 38

Enchantment: Ignores 20% of Target Armour

Damn. My knife only did a base damage of 4 to start. Of course, as the guide explained, damage after base was based off the targets armor and where and how you hit. Better kinds of armor absorb more damage, though armor has a tendency to get damaged as it absorbed more and more punishment. In addition, melee weapons had additional damage modifiers that included your strength, which in the Ogre�s case was probably significant.

I can barely carry the damn oversized club and the fact that I can even heft it at all breaks all kinds of physic rules, which is why I just leave it on the ground as I reach out to loot the Chieftain next. He gets me another Ogre hide, 7,000 credits and a golden key. When my hand closes around the key to put it in inventory, I get another blue screen.

Key to the City

Would you like to take control of Haines Junction? (Y/N)

�What the hell?� I shout to Ali and immediately regret it, my head spinning. Ali zooms over to join me, staring at my screen and being silent while I recover. For a moment, as my head spins, I wonder if he�s gotten bigger. Then I get distracted again by his talking.

�Mary�s sweet spot,� Ali breathes, pointing to the key. �That�s why those Ogre�s weren�t running. They bought the city.�

�Explanation damn it,� I reply.

�Ugh� okay. Yeah. Your cities aren�t real cities, not at least according to the System. You want to own it, you need to buy the rights to the city. That�s what the Ogre�s did. They must have pooled their resources, bought the rights from the System and a portal here. Must have cost them a fortune even to get a dump like this,� Ali explains quickly, spinning in an agitated circle. I guess that made the Ogres pioneers. Dead, roasted and eaten cannibalistic pioneers.

�Whatever,� Angrily, I decline the system�s offer. Damn System, thinking what we built isn�t real. Ali�s exclamation of surprise at my actions is cut short by another prompt.

Control over city declined.

No other sentient found in domain.

Would you like to resell the rights to Haines Junction? (Y/N)

I giggle slightly, as I point at Ali, �Not sentient!�

�Dance on a stick. I don�t count because I�m linked to you boy-o,� Ali retorts even as the key disappears from my hand.

Rights to Haines Junction sold for 10% of cost. 200,000 System Credits credited to account.

As a one-time offer, would you like to spend your System Credits now? (Y/N)

This time, I don�t get to choose as Ali does it for me.

Chapter 5

One moment I�m standing amongst the burnt, savaged remnants of the Ogre clan aching in pain and fighting off waves of dizziness and silliness. The next I�m fully healthy in a high-tech retail store that has a thing for yellow. I raise my eyebrow at the colour choice, having thought it�d be all blue but yellow it is, from the walls to the waiting chairs to the counter top where a yellow lizardman waits.

�You�re big!� I shout as I see Ali. Unlike his normal foot tall experience, this Ali is a towering 7 feet. Thankfully, he�s still clad in his usual orange jumpsuit which I have to admit, sets off his mocha coloured skin very well.

�This is my real size,� Ali grouses and points to me. �You just can�t contain my awesomeness.�

�Awesomeness?� My eyes widen at his choice of words.

�I get bored. Your world has a lot of interesting entertainment forms,� Ali says dismissively as he strides over to the waiting lizard. �Malik! You old scoundrel. Have I got a deal for you!�

I stare at the lizardman and my companion as he begins to pull my stuff from my inventory, already getting into an argument over pricing. Better him than me but what the hell should I do? For that matter, why the hell was I healthy?

�Perhaps the Master would like to peruse our wares?� comes a soft voice at my elbow, making me spin around and throw a strike at it. I catch a glimpse of the speaker, a bipedal fox before it slips under my blow with careless ease.

�Sorry! I�m really sorry. I just, you know, apocalypse!� I apologize profusely.

�Not at all Master, completely normal. It�s this servant�s fault for startling you,� the young fox�s grin widens as he gestures to a doorway I didn�t see before. �The wares Master?�

�Yeah, I guess I could�� I follow its lead. I am rich after all, or at least, I think I am. �By the way, I was injured beforehand but now I�m feeling fine.�

�Ah, part of the transfer process. Galactic Council policy dictates that all purchases be done by individuals in their full health. You will be returned in the same form as you were before though,� the Fox explains easily as he leads me to a doorway. The room that we enter is in cool yellow, so large that I can�t see the end of it. Inside, the room is dominated by a floating spaceship reminiscent of the one that Superman came to Earth in from the classic movie. In front of it is a single screen, floating

Mark VIII Regulus (200,000 Credits)

Single passenger spaceship originally capable of achieving hyperspace travel. Comes equipped with the 3rd Generation Link Laser and 2 Ares Launcher Bays. More�

Would you like to purchase this? (Y/N)

My hand unconsciously twitches and moves upward. A ship to get the hell out of here and leave as the System suggested. An escape from the blood and insanity that is my life now, a way to be free of the fear. It�s everything that I could want. A slight shift in stance draws my eye to the Fox and my eyes narrow. There�s something about the way he�s holding himself, something in his eye.

Son of a bitch. They�re playing me. Once again, anger rushes through me and I have to work hard on relaxing, on tamping my emotions down. I roll my neck and resolutely hit no. The fox says nothing which is lucky for it, and after a brief moment, a giant list of products appear. A tight smile appears on my face before I speak, glancing to the Fox, �Be a good boy. Get me a chair and some coffee and any chocolate you have on-hand. I�m going to be a while.�

The Fox slinks off and I start browsing. Time to make this more manageable.

�Remove all items costing over 200,000 credits.� The list shrinks for a moment before repopulating. I grunt, not surprised. Let�s see, what next�

�List only Human specialty items,� This time, the list almost completely disappears except for 3. I guess we�re too new for a bunch of specialty products.

Human Genome Treatments

Genome treatments are individually tailored for each client. Each treatment�s goal is to fix and optimise the client�s base genetic code, removing errors due to aging and radiation. Optional improvements to the treatment include the removal of less than optimal genetic code and the addition of best practise genes.

Base Cost: 10,000 Credits

Removal of Genes: 2,500 Credits

Insertion of Genes: 2,500 Credits

�This won�t make me sexless or something strange will it?� I question the returned fox, somewhat puzzled at the words �optimal�. After all, an alien race�s definition of optimal might include making us hermaphrodites or adding back our tail.

�No. The genome treatment is specifically catered to humanity including your race�s societal hangups,� the Fox replies, back to its cool professionalism. I grunt and grab the window, swinging it to the side to leave open. Definitely getting that.

The Basics of Mana Manipulation for Humans

Using System Patented technology, the knowledge of basic mana manipulation will be downloaded directly into your mind. Mana manipulation is a requirement for basic magic skills.

Cost: 5,000 Credits.

Interesting. Playing on a hunch, I pull out a comparison.

The Basics of Mana Manipulation

Using System Patented technology, the knowledge of basic mana manipulation will be downloaded directly into your mental storage unit. Mana manipulation is a requirement for basic magic skills.

Cost: 1,000 Credits.

�Care to explain?� I turn to the fox who looks perfectly relaxed at this information. He points to the cheaper option first.

�This is the System created option that is purchasable by any being that is part of the System. However, as it is developed for use for the entire System�s inhabitants, it does not guarantee assimilation of the knowledge and in extreme cases may cause harm. In all but the most edge cases, only the most basic information is imparted.

�The second option has been specifically tailored by one of our Craftsmen to ensure that full assimilation of the knowledge will occur. We stand by the product 100% and this product has been particularly successful in your world. Certain gifted individuals have been able to glean a higher base level of skill from purchasing this product.�

�What�s the chance for the average human to get the skill from this?� I point to the System skill.

�32%�

�And me?�

�98%�

�That�s what I figured,� I grunt and swipe the System skill window over to join the Genome Treatment. 7 Levels in, my Intelligence is way above base human. Never mind the fact that I was never considered dumb. I turn back to the shopping windows, eyeing the last specialty item.

Thrasher�s Guide to Surviving the Apocalypse on Earth

This guide imparts basic information about the System, the current apocalypse and future plans. Included are explanations of common skills, magic, technology, Safe Points, the Shop and more.

Cost: 50 Credits

I eye that one dubiously before creating a second section for �Maybe�s�. I have a feeling Ali has more information than a 50 Credit Guide, but it never hurts to ask. Next up, my class �List information purchasable about the Erethran Honor Guard.�

A giant list detailing the Honor Guard�s training, history, customs, battle tactics, gear, current organisational structure and more appears, most of it in the 20-50 credit range and I grab them all. Interestingly enough, there�s even information about Secret and Hidden Missions available for sale, though those I avoid. The Guard is going to be pissed off enough with me as it stands I assume, I really don�t need them to get uppity just because I bought some insider knowledge from the System.

Next up, Basic Skills. I eye the wide range of skills for a second then narrow them down to combat skills for now. The usual series of Unarmed, Bladed, Blunt, Polearms, Archery, Rifles, Pistols and more are there. I could learn to drive a tank if I wanted! A part of me giggles at the idea, though I quickly dismiss it. For one thing, I don�t even think there�s a single tank in the entirety of the Yukon even before the apocalypse. Now, it�d just be a hunk of metal.

No, better to focus on things I do need. I grab the skills for unarmed combat, adding it to the �To Buy� pile and then add the rifles and pistols along with bladed weaponry to the maybe pile. I�ll have to figure out the kinds of weapons I�m buying before I get to that.

I pull up the Class Skills selection and wince. Even the cheapest Class Skill starts at the tens of thousands of dollars and they don�t particularly look that good. I definitely need to balance my desire for a cool skill with the fact that I need weapons, transportation and skills. Still, I highlight a few and swing them into the To-Buy column.

I grin, finishing up the coffee and then waving the empty cup at the Fox, pulling open the chocolate bars. Oh, right - a quick search reveals a whole series of chocolate bar options and I indulge, picking up a stack of Swiss chocolate. Right, next! A weapon would be great, but I need to remember that I need to allocate money for armor and a mode of transportation. It�s only another 160 kilometres or so to Whitehorse but on foot, that would be an easy couple of weeks. That�s if I don�t account for the various monsters that are likely hanging around.

Best find out how much transportation costs first then. The resulting list makes me wince. Even a basic bike is a few thousand Credits and a compact is over ten thousand credits with fueling requirements for gasoline. Anything more advanced and the prices start jumping higher, though a glance at the details shows why. Many of the more advanced vehicles power themselves directly off collected mana. Armor is likely going to get expensive too. In fact, it�d probably be more expensive than any weapon I buy if humanity�s own history is anything to go by.

I snarl in annoyance, staring at the vehicles. There�s got to be a way to do this�

�Where the hell are you? You better not have bought anything!� Ali slams the door open, looking around desperately for me, obviously finally remembering he wasn�t here alone. He rushes over and points a finger at me, snarling; �I look away for one second!�

I snort, feet up in the air and staring at the windows I�ve got arrayed before me before I close them all before he can see them, instead pulling out another.

�Oh shut it. I already got someone better,� I point to the window and he spins, staring at the accusing window.

Sixth Generation Lambda Class AI Companion

Resulting from the combination of a Delta and Epsilon class AI, this Sixth Generation Lamba Class Companion is still in its infancy but with its base code can be expected to process significant levels of data and manage the operation of up to 3 Rank D machines or 1 Rank C machine.

Rank: C

Requires: Minimum Rank D Hardware for Installation

Furiously reading, Ali�s eyes widen and he sputters for a second, �You, you, you replaced me with a hunk of code!� He�s shouting at the end, his face completely red. �You ungrateful meatball, you undeserving maggot eating swine-licking sheep-loving��

He sputters to a stop as I am bent over, giggling at him. I try at first to stop, but when his ranting comes to a stop, I fall from the chair and just whoop it up. Every time I think I have a handle on my emotions, I catch a sight of Ali�s long-suffering face and I collapse again. Even the Fox is slightly amused from the way its tail waves around.

I don�t know how long it takes me to get control of my emotions but it�s a while. When I do, I point a finger at Ali, �Some Companion you are. These hucksters nearly got me.�

Ali�s eyes narrow and I sigh, calling forth the spaceship. Ali looks at it, the window flickering as he reads more details and grunts. �Yeah, that�s a piece of shit. 3 generations out of date, no missiles included, no armor and they�ve ripped out the original space drive for a hunk of crap that might or might not get you into hyperspace and you certainly need to refuel after every jump. They didn�t even frigging fuel it.�

The Fox just stands there, a smile that wouldn�t melt ice cream on its face as we speak. These guys have no shame. Which is why I�m going to be happy to let Ali do the haggling later on and let him take them to the cleaners.

�Alright, enough fun and games. How�d you do?� I gesture back the way he came from.

�I will get you back,� Ali mutters before answering me, �Pretty good. The Salamander Sac�s the first to come from Earth, so you got a premium so it sold for $23,187 Credits. The Ogre Hides mostly went cheaply except the kids. Those are premium, softer you know��

He shuts up as I hold my hand, not really needing a detailed list of his exploits. He grumbles for a moment about ungrateful children before answering, �38,632 Credits for all of it.�

�That gives us 250,632 Credits yes? And correct me if I�m wrong, but we can buy and apply these in any order we need yes?�

�Yeah��

�Good. Here�s what I�m thinking,� I gesture back to the newly pulled up windows, getting ready to argue with the Spirit.

�You can stop anytime pretty boy,� Ali grouses as I continue to stare at my reflection. I just flash him a grin, touch the helmet again and make it retreat into a simple metal collar around my neck. The one piece jumpsuit that I wear is all in black and leaves nothing to the imagination, but that�s okay since it is also armor.

Pretty boy is an actual truth for once. The Genome Treatment seems to have, amongst other things, made me actually good looking. My chin has strengthened, my features become slightly more symmetrical and elongated, blending my Chinese origins with other races. I look closer to Keanu Reeves than myself in some ways. Some things I�ve kept such as my black hair and eyes but additional minor changes have occurred all across my body including an extra four inches of height and a significant amount of muscles. Lines that had started cropping up in the last few years, small enough only I�d notice have wiped away another decade, making me look to be in my early 20�s again. The facial changes were particularly unnerving but thankfully, I seem to have sub-consciously adjusted to all the changes relatively well. I guess the mental resistance training that came with my Class is helping me - either that or the System is just altering my mind to let me get on with my life.

Surprisingly, beyond the surface changes, I don�t feel a significant change in the performance of my body. When questioned, Ali explained it as a side effect of my level and class � I�ve long ago exceeded peak human genetics so the genome treatment could only provide minor additional adjustments. Something about creating denser muscle fibres, a higher level of red blood cells, increased grey matter and more, most of which I tuned out.

Mostly, what I�ve focused on are the mental changes. As part of the genome treatment, it seemed that a chemical flush was required which has left me feeling more stable, emotions a bit more under control. There�s still residual anger and guilt for surviving, but for now, I�m functional again without the rather severe neurological chemical imbalance I had. Of course, seeing how my mental resistances was handling the outward physical changes with aplomb, I wonder exactly how close I would have been to a breakdown without the class. For a former office worker, I�d done a hell of a lot of running, hiding and killing over the last week.

It doesn�t really matter, I am still here and what if�s could go on forever. It is what it is. Still, I curiously pull up my Status Screen to see the changes.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane

Health

390

Stamina

390

Mana

360

Status

Normal

Attributes

Strength

27 (50)

Agility

38 (70)

Constitution

39 (75)

Perception

Intelligence

36 (60)

Willpower

36 (60)

Charisma

Luck

Skills

Stealth

Wilderness Survival

Unarmed Combat

Knife Proficiency

Athletics

Observe

Cooking

Sense Danger

Jury-rigging

Explosives

Class Skills

None (4 Locked)

Spells

None

Perks

Spirit Companion

Level 3

Prodigy (Subterfuge)

N/A

Unassigned Attributes:

12 Stat Points

Would you like to assign these attributes? (Y/N)

�Didn�t your mother tell you not to rub it so much,� Ali grouses and I come back to the present and pull my hand down from rubbing my head. There�s not even a scar, but if I focus, I can feel the installed neural link in my mind become active. I could almost swear I can feel it sitting in my brain, but that I know is purely psychosomatic. Once again, I call up the detail window of the link.

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Dismissing the window, I walk over to my Personal Assault Vehicle, stroking the handlebars. The PAV looks like a road bike on steroids in this configuration, pure black with sleek lined armor plates. That�s not the only thing though, with a thought the PAV can break apart and attach itself to me, acting as power armor. That�s right � I have bike mecha. It almost makes up for all the stupid, crazy shit that I�ve gone through. Almost.

I can�t help but call up the details of the mecha again, just to gloat a little.

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV

Hard Points: 4 (1 Used for Quantum Space Manipulator Integrator)

Soft Points: 3 (1 Used for Neural Link)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +20 Strength, +7 Agility, +10 Perception

Ali had even been helpful � working with me to tweak my initial choice of the Ares version of this product to the Omnitron. The Omnitron was more heavily armed and armored normally but suffered from a smaller mana engine. Instead, at Ali�s suggestion we had sacrificed the installed weaponry and the better armor for an upgraded mana engine. The result was a bare bones product that had no bells and whistles but could be upgraded significantly and that has a significant recharge rate.

To keep cost down, we also went with ablative armoring. The way armor worked in this new world, you could either choose super-tough armor that would shatter if it ever was breached or ablative armor that crumpled and reduced but was useable even after getting damaged. Of course, Tier IV armor was still extremely strong by pre-Earth standards. In fact, most of the monsters I�ve fought directly wouldn�t even leave a scratch on it. I�m obviously not counting the Salamander since I never really fought it - just ran away a lot.

The only upgrade we had purchased for the bike was the integrator to the QSM which by itself had cost a quarter again the price of Sabre. Yeah, I named it. Sue me. I would say I was surprised at how expensive the upgrade was, but considering how ridiculously useful the QSM had turned out to be, I was willing to pay for it.

Of course, that left us with much-reduced funds for my personal weapon. In the end, we had settled on 2 different weapons. The first was attached via a handy holster to Sabre with some minor modifications. It looked for the most part like a regular semi-automatic hunting rifle with a faux wooden stock, just with a slightly bulkier than normal stock. Of course, it wasn�t:

Ferlix Type II Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 38

Battery Capacity: 21/21

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

I had to bug Ali to get an explanation of the recharge rate, which he finally did explain in detail, way too much detail in fact. He even pulled up graphs and charts with maps of both the solar system and galaxy. Truth be told, I tuned out after the first 5 minutes. It all boiled down to this � the Galactic Council had instituted a series of measurements based off the �base� mana available in the ambient surroundings in the capital. This was a single Galactic Mana Unit or GMU. All mana engines were rated based on their ability to absorb and charge a mana battery based off a single GMU. However, in Dungeon worlds and zones with higher levels, the recharge rates would increase as there was just more GMUs. Mana batteries could be recharged directly but it was a specialised skillset since an improperly charged mana battery would explode.

My close range weapon had resulted in a lively debate. Ali had wanted me to purchase a pistol � that man was a gun nut � while I wanted a sword. He had only relented when I pointed out that I needed a weapon that didn�t run out of charges in the middle of a fight, otherwise I�d be completely hosed. He�s still sulking over losing that argument.

I�d started with a simple hand-and-a-half for my sword and watched it change the moment I made it my personal weapon. Initially, it had a light pattern where the fuller was on the blade, a green inlay on its hilt and a flared guard. It was simple but pretty for a weapon, but choosing it as my personal weapon stripped it of its ornamentation. Now, the sword was sleeker, all traces of ornamentation gone. The only beauty it had now was in its stark simplicity of purpose � this was a weapon meant to kill and kill well.

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 48

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: None

The sword had grown even sharper and while it could still break, I had only to dismiss it and call it back for it to reappear in its original state.

Preparations complete, all the basic knowledge absorbed, there was but the skills left to do. I finally step away and nod to the Fox, ready for him to begin. As soon as I nodded, I felt the shift. This was even more marked than the previous purchase of knowledge like the world had stopped and then restarted with a lurch. Windows bloom soon after.

Unarmed Combat Skill Gained (Level 6)

Blade Mastery Skill Gained (Level 6)

PAV Combat Skill Gained (Level 4)

Energy Rifles Skill Gained (Level 3)

Meditation Skill Gained (Level 5)

Mana Manipulation Skill Gained (Level 1)

Minor Healing Spell Gained

Even as I finish dismissing the windows, another notice appears.

The System Quest Update

The journey to understanding the origins of the System and Mana has many beginnings, but all roads lead to the understanding of Mana. You have taken your first step in understanding the System.

Requirement: Learn Mana Manipulation

Reward: 500 XP

�Huh,� I grin, dismissing the quest update. My business done, my funds drained, I find myself back in the real world.

The smell of burnt flesh and spilt guts return along with the pain. No longer under the System�s care, all the damage I had received comes back with interest. Knowing it was coming does little to stop me from dropping to my knees in pain, head swimming. It�s only with great focus am I able to cast my Minor Healing Spell, fixing the damage as I recast it again and again. Ali stays silent through this, waiting for me to become mostly functional before he speaks, �Alright, let�s get this show on the road!�

�No.� I shake my head, shrugging my shoulders as I walk over to my bike. I sit on it, triggering the change in my mind and feeling the armour crawl and attach itself to me.

�Oooh, we going to farm some carrion?�

�Not exactly,� I walk towards the town center while looking for potential threats.

�Stop that! We�re not playing 20 questions here. What the hell are you up to boy-o?� Ali grouses, flying after me.

�Being human.�

I shoot the last oversized coyote that crawled out to see if it could get dinner and loot it before turning back to the pyre I had made. I probably should have done something about the other monster corpses, but I didn�t give a damn about them. The citizens of the town though, they deserved something better. Even in power armor, the chopping and hauling had taken me hours especially as I had to stop every once in a while and kill a few wandering monsters.

I don�t have words for when I�m done, even though I�ve tried to find the words these past few hours. In the end, all I have is this, �I�m sorry.�

As I turn away, calling Sabre back to its bike form, I hear from behind me a rough voice.

God lay dead in heaven;

Angels sang the hymn of the end;

Purple winds went moaning,

Their wings drip-dripping

With blood

That fell upon the earth.

It, groaning thing,

Turned black and sank.

Then from the far caverns

Of dead sins

Came monsters, livid with desire.

They fought,

Wrangled over the world,

A morsel.

But of all sadness this was sad �

A woman�s arms tried to shield

The head of a sleeping man

From the jaws of the final beast. ((�God Lay Dead in Heaven,� Stephen Crane))

I twist around, staring up at Ali who shrugs. �It seemed appropriate�

Yeah, it did.

Hidden Quest Completed!

You have laid to rest the bodies of the fallen and avenged their death against all odds. The System might be callous, but you are not.

Reward: 5,000 XP, Title Gained: Redeemer of the Dead. Reputation change with certain factions.

�And fuck you too System,� I whisper and gesture the notification away. It�s time to go home.

Chapter 6

�Ali, I�m not wrong, right? You�re bigger?� Gunning the engine, I shoot down the road, weaving around newly created potholes and debris. Looks like monsters don�t have any civic pride, the way they destroy common roadways.

�More than big enough or so the lady�s say,� Ali smirks.

�You�re a Spirit. You don�t even have a gender,� I growl back, leaning into the curve as we shoot past a startled Moose. Holy shit, that thing was the size of a bus!

�Now that�s heteronormative thinking. It�s thinking like that that has kept half of your population down for the entirety of your history,� starts Ali.

�I hate you,� I grouse, tuning out Ali. I had a serious question about his abilities, but every single time!!!

I�m purposely tuning him out so when he screams �Down�, it takes me a moment to realise he�s serious and react. It almost costs me my life as I duck down, sending the entire vehicle into a spin. Missing me by inches a dragon pulls up from its dive, screeching its anger as batlike wings and purple scales glisten in the sunlight. I feel the pressure, the aura of fear that surrounds it as closes on me, trying to lock my muscles together and make me prey.

My resistances kick-in even as I focus on getting control of my bike. Realising it�s a lost cause, I trigger the change, the entire bike coming apart beneath me as I take a death-grip on the handlebars. It�s a good thing that the overalls I�m wearing have light armor plates stitched in or else I�d have some terrible road rash.

The transformation takes seconds, armor plates sliding to protect my arms and legs, liquid metal filling in gaps at the joints while the bike�s wheels attach to the back with the exhaust, creating a bulky backpack section. My actual hiking backpack and its contents get strewn all over the road during the change. As I slide along the ground, I dig in my bottom foot and come up to a crouched position in a display of agility, co-ordination and strength no normal human could ever exhibit.

When I do manage to slow down and look up, I get a chance to actually see the information Ali has pulled for me.

Shadow Drake (Level 74)

HP: 14,780 / 14,780

Christ on a pogo stick! There�s no way I�m winning this fight. A mental command triggers the QSM and I bolt for it, heading into the surrounding forest to hide.

Ali comes back to my hiding spot hours later after the sun has finally set and risen again, pointing upwards. �We�re clear. It�s gone.�

I breathe a sigh of relief, my hands trembling slightly from the accumulated adrenaline finally subsiding. I rest my head on my arms, forcing myself to breathe slower, pushing the fear back down after a moment. That Drake had been tenacious, unwilling to leave even after it lost track of me. If I hadn�t the QSM to lose it initially, I would have been Drake chow. I was lucky, so damn lucky�

Once I have control of myself again, I take a quick glance at the inbuilt compass in my helmet and I take off towards Whitehorse through the forest, figuring I�ll eventually meet up with the road. Best to give it a few more hours before I risk the road again.

Ali seems unusually quiet for a few minutes as I sneak through the forest, just floating beside me and not even humming an annoying tune. �I am bigger. Told you, as you grow stronger, so do I and I�ll eventually be able to manifest a real body.�

�You said at Level 2 you gained the ability to sense the System monster�s around us. How did the Drake get so damn close?� I gripe at him.

�Shadow Drake. Stealth abilities affect my ability to sense them through the System since the System dictates the skills themselves,� Ali explains and I make a mental note to start paying more attention myself. It seems like I can�t just rely on him.

�What�d you get for the other levels?�

�More access to the system. It�s why the information I�ve been displaying has been getting more and more accurate. I�ve also extended the range of my spot function and I can manifest longer too.� Ali explains, �If you hit level 10 my affinity will be something you can gain, if you spend some time practicing it.�

I nod, happy. Finally, some real information.

After a few hours of walking off the road, I get back on it and head in at speed. Most of the rest of the journey to Whitehorse goes by relatively peacefully and fast, the closer I get to the city the lower the level of monsters go. In fact, the latest monster that I deal with is a giant brown bear whose level sits at a measly 35. At Ali�s insistence, I kill it and loot it. Poor thing stood no chance as I just sniped it to death from a distance. I don�t get a level and I feel somewhat bad about leaving the rest of the meat to rot, but I just don�t have the ability to carry the non-System generated body. Something to think about for the future � getting some form of inter-dimensional storage.

When I get within a kilometer of the Takhini cutoff, a bare 20 minutes away by bike to Whitehorse, Ali starts jabbering. �Pedal to the metal boy-o, unless you want to re-run of the Junction.�

I snarl, gunning the bike. Sabre roars, the mana battery ticking down as I pull more power than the engine can recharge. Not the time to worry about it. I can�t see the problem till I take the last corner, easing off the throttle enough to let me ascertain the situation.

Troll (Level 32)

HP: 1673/1842

The Troll is the aggressor here, all 13 feet of gangly, warty green skin facing off directly against a diminutive Japanese woman who wields a polearm-like weapon. Even as I pull to a stop behind them, she slips a strike, spins the blade to slice open the Troll�s arm and then reverses the cut immediately to slash open its throat. As she makes the last strike, a white glow seems to envelop the blade itself, making the second cut pass through the Troll�s body much easier. She has the Troll outclassed in sheer speed and skill, but it doesn�t seem to matter as the Troll is already regenerating the damage, old and new wounds closing. Unlike the Troll, the woman isn�t regenerating damage and blood drips from the scalp wound she has already received.

Mikito Sato (Level 27)

HP: 282/420

As interesting as the fight is, the giant Huskies that dart in and out to annoy and distract the Troll are more so. Those creatures are nearly the size of a small pony each, varying in colouring and size by only a small amount. Controlling their actions with barked orders are a pair of redheaded humans, their owners I�d presume.

Richard Pearson (Level 24)

HP: 210 / 210

Lana Pearson (Level 24)

HP: 230/230

Further behind are a crowd of non-combatants, children and more. I don�t pay attention to them as I struggle to get the rifle out of its holster. I curse myself for not practising drawing the weapon when I had the time, fumbling the motion and costing precious seconds. Mikito misses a dodge, blood from her wound blinding her for a crucial second and it is all the Troll needs to smash her down. The killing blow is delayed for a precious second at the cost of a Husky�s body, thrown at its raised arm and then my rifle is free.

I aim high, figuring a missed shot will stay missed that way and pull the trigger. The first shot catches it on the shoulder, burning and then cauterising the flesh as the beam weapon punches a hole through it. The Troll hunches down, making a smaller target as it then sprints towards me on all fours.

Rather than run, I line up a proper shot, this one smashes the left collarbone and keeps going, right through its body to dig into the earth behind it. The Troll crashes to the ground, momentum keeping it rolling to me. When it recovers, it launches itself in a straight lunge which I meet with a boot to its face. Unfortunately, I forgot about that bitch physics which still has some control over our lives.

Instead of throwing the Troll back, I�m the one who goes flying backwards and into the ground. I take the fall and roll, a part of me marvelling at the fact that I can even do this kind of crazy acrobatics, the other, larger and smarter part snapping another shot off at the Troll.

This one completely misses, but it does make the Troll pause long enough to let me stand up. Again, I make a mistake, forgetting how long the creature�s arms are and it smashes the rifle aside, nearly taking my head with it except for a quick reflexive jerk backwards. My arms throb, but none of its claws get through the armor. Seeing me disarmed, it launches itself forward with little care.

Too bad an Erethran Honor Guard (stolen class and all) is never truly unarmed. I pivot and drop, letting instinct guide me as my sword appears in my hands and I let the Troll disembowel itself. I�m already stepping out from its shadow, a downward slice severing tendons in the back of the knee before my hands join together at the hilt for a hard block that disarms the Troll. Literally.

The Troll�s strike with its remaining arm is dodged and then help arrives, the Huskies bearing down on the wounded creature. I take the time to help lop off its other arm while the Huskies and Mikito keep it busy before I retrieve my rifle to end the fight and start blasting away at it. I grin behind my helmet, watching it fry and die.

Troll (Level 37) Slain

+3700 XP

�Whoa! That was amazing,� Richard walks up and claps me on the shoulder. Danger over, I pull my helmet off and nod back to him, reeling internally at how easy that was. I mean, sure I screwed up a bit, but that thing was significantly stronger than me in terms of Levels. Yet, I have a feeling with just a little more experience I could have kicked its ass all by my lonesome.

�Richard! Hilda needs some help,� Lana calls out, bent over the injured husky. As I look over, my eyes lock on the buxom redhead whose green blouse is slightly parted, leaning over the dog and my breath catches for a moment. Good lord, she�s gorgeous. Pulling my gaze away, I look at the dog on the ground, spotting its low health . Hmmm�

�Let me try something�� I walk over, calling forth the memory of the spell that I�ve gained and place hands on the creature, ignoring its labored breathing. I chant Minor Healing in my mind, my hand glowing from the mana that infuses it before spilling out onto the husky to begin the recovery process. I have to wait for a minute each time before I can recast the spell, but I eventually prop her health above the two-third mark. In between waiting, I loot the Troll gaining some Troll Blood and hide, being the slayer and the only one able to do so. I also check out the non-combatants who number just under 8, a split of 6 adults and 2 kids. With nothing better to do after all that, I review my spell again.

Minor Healing

Effect: Heals 20 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

"Thank you!" Lana clutches the newly recovered dog, pushing her head into its fur as the dog returns the favor with long licks.

�How did you learn that? And how come your bike is still working?� Richard is eyeing me with pure lust and jealousy after the first healing. I look back up, noting the family resemblance, the light smile that twists their lips, the striking features that they both have. Richard is pretty damn good looking too, though it�s an ephemeral charisma that draws the eye to him when he speaks. He�s clad in a plaid shirt and jeans with a light summer jacket on his body, a shotgun held casually on his arm.

�Bought it in the Shop,� I casually mention. Best not to mention Sabres a mecha for now, a working bike these days is wonder enough.

�The Shop?� Lana butts in while Mikito stays silent, watching over the group. I look over and nod to the other fighter in this group and she just stares at me. Right then, not the friendliest one that one.

�Place where you can sell the Loot drops. There�s one in Whitehorse,� I pause, then hold up a hand to forestall more questions. �Let�s get moving, we can talk when we�re safe. Then I�ll answer your questions.�

The trio nod grimly, being reminded of the problems of standing around in the wild. I gesture over the children and one of the mum�s to get on the bike, remotely starting it and setting it to move along at a slow pace next to us.

Now that I�ve got them moving in the right direction I put my helmet back on and speak into it, obscuring my voice, �Ali, keep an eye out. Let me know if there�s any danger will you?�

�Not introducing me? Ashamed of me are you?� Ali grumbles, floating next to me.

�Just cautious. They seem nice enough people, but those dogs are huge,� I eye the hounds who trot beside us, even the one that got smashed around by the Troll. Seems like those things heal faster than we do which is saying something. I guess I wasted a bunch of my mana for nothing.

�Beast companions. Bet you a hundred Credits those two have a Beast Tamer Class,� Ali points to the Pearsons. I open my mouth to ask more when Richard drops back to speak to me and I pop my visor open to stay polite.

�Thanks again. I�m Richard, that�s my sister Lana and the lady over there�s Mikito,� Richard gestures in turn to the combatants before proceeding to point at the other non-combatants who stay in the center of our little group and naming them. Truth be told, I forget their names as fast as he says it, I�ve always been horrible with names and with Ali around, I don�t even have to try.

�John,� I offer my hand for a quick shake before I begin probing for their story. It seems he needs to talk since it doesn�t take long to get the details of what happened to them. When the System turned on, both Richard and Lana had been offered classes as Beast Tamers as their recommended small perk. They�d ignored the option at first, but after dealing with their first monster (a giant Squirrel it seems), they�d accepted. That had caused their mushing team to transform into the current pack that ranges around us and gave them a linked connection to their pets.

Mikito had been with her husband at the Takhini Hot Springs, hoping to get pregnant under the Northern Lights but things ended in tragedy. Neither of the Pearsons have been able to get the story of her Naginata out of her as yet, but whatever it was, it wasn�t pretty as the woman seemed to throw herself at the monsters they�d encountered at the drop of a hat. The rest of the non-combatants they�d picked up, neighbours and others independently moving to Whitehorse in hopes of safety.

�How come they don�t have classes?� I point to the group in the center, letting my head swivel around for new threats.

�They do. Karl�s a Farmer, Jorge is an Industrialist and so on, they�re just not fighters,� Richard shrugs and then mutters. �Neither am I really but you know��

�Yeah, I do.� We both fall silent then, finishing the walk in our own thoughts. Being drawn into a fight or die situation has not been easy, not for any of us. I stare forwards as we walk, my mind turning to Whitehorse. We can rest when we get in, the safe zone a place where we can find some peace. Maybe put down our weapons, stop killing. Find some sanity in this crazy new world.

When we finally catch sight of Two Mile Hill in Whitehorse, the entire group lets out a little cheer. Walking through the industrial park and suburbs had been depressing, even if we hadn�t ventured from the highway to check out the abandoned buildings. Closer to the town, the zone level had dropped all the way to the mid-20s, so it was pretty safe as far as an apocalypse goes. No more flying drakes at least. However, the signs of struggle and death were all around us as we traveled and once again I was reminded that not everyone received or took a combat class - or had a chance to take one.

The cheers die off as we note another party coming down Two Mile Hill from the community center on bicycles. To our right, the massive white and blue building that made up the community centre sat, seeming to cast an oppressive gloom around it. The Canada Games Centre is something we are going to have to keep an eye on as from what Ali could tell, the mana flows were pooling quite deeply which would result in more monsters being drawn in. In time, if it isn�t cleared out, it�ll turn into a proper monster lair and after that, a full Dungeon. Thankfully, that�s a problem for another time and another person.

I drop the visor in the helmet to pull up basic magnification to start collecting information of the other group. The group consists of a pair of what look like extras from the Lord of the Rings Elves, a dragonman wannabe, a mini-Giant in full plate and what have to be a pair of casters by their long flowing robes. That�s right, the entire group looks like a LARP party on steroids, though with Level�s from low to mid 30�s which makes them a serious threat.

�Ali, what�s up with their levels?� I mutter into my helmet.

�Mmm� Whitehorse probably saw a lot more spawning in the initial period. You�re all getting bonus experience at the start, so if they�ve been working together and killing the monsters around here, leveling is pretty easy. Though, I�ll admit - it�s still pretty high,� Ali intones, eyeing the group as well.

I groan after a moment as I get a better look at the casters, the pair of them having the least amount of changes from their pre-Apocalypse visages. No acne makes the pair of teenagers look significantly better but it�s definitely them. I pull my helmet off completely to run a hand through my hair, shoulders hunching slightly. Lana, buxom Lana whose company is definitely more interesting than her brother Richard�s shoots me a worried look from my side.

�I kind of know them,� I start throwing a prayer to whatever gods there are who might be listening.

There probably is, and his name is Murphy because the bicycle-riding group swerves our way and I get a chance to read all their System names including the female Elf.

Luthien Celbrindal (Level 32)

HP: 420/420

�Fuck me sideways. I swear, I should have put more points into Luck,� I roll my neck, attempting to get rid of the tension that�s suddenly built up. Mikito hefts her naginata, getting ready for battle and I realise even the dogs are rumbling. �Not that kind of trouble people. I think. It�s personal.�

Lana gestures and Richard and the rest of the group come to a stop, obviously waiting for me to explain, �That�s my ex incoming. Bad breakup and all. I left the city to get away from her��

�You�re scared of a girl?� Ali chortles at the same time Lana speaks. �You ran from relationship issues into the apocalypse?�

�No, I just don�t want to deal with the she-bitch,� I protest, waving them to be silent. Lana looks puzzled for a moment before gesturing for Richard to keep moving. That annoying redhead is trying to hide a grin, something that Ali doesn�t even bother with as he�s rolling in the air laughing his ass off.

�Halt! Who goes there,� the Giant calls out as we near.

�A bad role-player,� I say beneath my breath, letting Richard take the lead in the discussion as I attempt to fade into the background. Introductions are quickly made with Richard relaying a short version of their trip.

While Richard does the speaking, I eyeball the group and their weaponry. The swords, bows and maces are well used and while the group might seem friendly, they�re all keeping hands near their weapons. They seem to have stuck to the fantasy motif, which doesn�t surprise me at all � her role-playing group were all about D&D.

�How�d you get the bike working?� his Status bar says Tim and it takes me a moment to place him. Right! He was a mechanic before all this shit happened. Now he�s a half-dragon, half-man mixture seven feet tall carrying a battleaxe clad in chainmail. I guess some interests don�t go away.

�Well?� He pushes and I realise everyone is waiting for me to answer, even the Pearsons and Mikito.

�I bought it from the Shop.,� I say, leaning against the vehicle and oh so casually having my hand near the stock of my rifle. Not that I expect to have to shoot anybody but Tim�s just a little too happy to see a working bike.

�There�s a Shop out there?� Luthien the she-bitch butts in. I have to admit, the Elf look works for her - tall, thin and blonde is what she was before, but the additional pointy ears and tight leather pants and armor certainly accentuates everything. Looking good was never her problem though, lying, cheating, manipulating, that was another matter.

�No. I got access due to some� special circumstances,� I pause, trying to figure out the best way to get around this. �It was in Haines Junction��

�You were there? Did you see a man named Perry?� The other elf speaks up, pushing forwards in the group surrounding me now.

�No. The town, it�s gone,� I look down, not really wanting to be the one to pass on this news. �Ogres took it over, killed them all. The Ogres were killed by a Salamander and when I looted them, I got a chance to use the Shop. That�s where I got the bike and my weapons,� that should do it. Just enough truth without going into detail about my part of it.

I watch the Elf, Jeff, crumple at the news and turn away. The others give him some space but Luthien and the last mage, Kevin just stare at me. In the end, it�s Kevin who speaks, �Is that you John?�

�Yes,� I answer him and as he opens his mouth to speak, I wave him away. �Glad to see you all alive,� I mouth, my brain turning on automatic as the roiling pit of anger and disgust thrums through me. I shake my head and swing my feet over the bike and get ready to leave.

�John�� Luthien says.

I ignore her, kicking the bike into gear and pulling away from the group, forcing one of the teenagers to jump aside or get run over. Yeah, I'm running away. I still can�t be in the same place with her, not right now. I grit my teeth, pushing aside the emotions again as I head down Two Mile Hill into downtown Whitehorse. I guess my peaceful return to normalcy just got shot out the window.

�So, John� figure I should let you know this now,� Ali speaks to me. Wait, into me! �Yeah, we�ve got a mental connection so you can stop talking into the air like a crazy person.�

How do I do this�?

�If that constipated look on your face is anything to go by, you�re trying it right? You got to think at me first, then I�ll hear it. It�s not mind reading,� Ali says.

�Like this asshole?�

�Perfect! Of course, no one can hear me so I won�t do the �duh I�m stupid stare� like you,� Ali adds.

�Asshole,� I mutter into my helmet.

Once I�m down the hill, I take 4th Street, passing the burnt-out shell of the McDonald�s and more abandoned commercial buildings on both sides of me. In a minute, I have to slowdown to a crawl as the number of people increases significantly and none of them are obeying traffic laws anymore. Not too surprising, since the number of working vehicles can be counted on one finger. Though, it looks like bicycles have made a giant comeback, with riders swerving in and around pedestrians with little care. I guess when your health regenerates within minutes, even bruises and broken bones become less important. The humans all move jerkily, flickers of anger or fear crossing faces when a movement is too fast or something catches them unaware. Shoulders are hunched, others have eyes wide and staring and these are the good ones - the ones willing to come out from hiding.

It takes me a moment to realise what is nagging me about everyone � there�s not a single pair of spectacles to be seen. Like my own on-going ailments, it looks like the increased regeneration rate from the System removes minor issues like that. More interestingly, I spot two pairs of high-level individuals with rifles patrolling the streets, each a pair black-skinned, silver-haired Elves in a tunic uniform ensemble of more black and silver. Shacking up with Luthien, I know immediately these guys aren�t your typical Elves - they�re Dark Elves, the evil version of the Elves. At least in bad fantasy lore. Surprisingly, their presence doesn�t seem to generate much interest from the humans around, most who seem to be scurrying back and forth on their own errands.

At �cole Elementary School, it�s my turn to be shocked as I spot a working truck amongst on the street, engine running as people hurry around it and into the sea of tents on the school grounds. The sound of the diesel engine cranking over is loud as a group of First Nation hunters unload a Moose from the back. Like most of our native flora, this one seems to have tripled in size at least from the sheer quantity of meat that they are pulling off and handing down into the school.

I pull my bike over near them and one of the First Nations elder who is directing the unloading looks to me with caution, a hand unconsciously tightening on the rifle butt. He�s old school with a permanent squint from being outdoors all the time and lines across his tanned face. Dressed in a rawhide vest, plaid shirt and jeans, he could be out for a Sunday afternoon stroll in Whitehorse if not for the blood that covers his clothing. I�m sure I�ve seen him around town before at one of the many public functions but for the life of me, where and when eludes me. I raise my hand in greeting and I can see him look towards my bike in consideration.

�You hunt that yourself?� I let the surprise and admiration creep into my voice. Even a glance at their Status Bars shows me their average level is in the single digits.

�Yup. Took half our bullets too but we still have some,� The warning is clear, though I just chuckle and raise both my hands clear of my own rifle.

�Don�t want no trouble. Just a little information as I just got in. People gathering in the school?� I gesture to �cole and get a nod in confirmation.

�So, what�s that?� I point towards the biggest change in the city, the towering 8 storey, shining metal building that dominates the town and is probably smack centre in Main St. Whitehorse was a picturesque town, one made of short rectangular buildings, wide roads and occasional gestures to its pioneer past. There was even an ordinance that kept buildings beneath 30 feet, so the Blade Runner escapee of a building was not normal.

A spit is my initial answer before the elder continues, �Building appeared 3 days after the monsters. Some asshole who says he owns the town now lives there.�

�That�s where the Shop is boy-o. Someone purchased the rights to town, give me a second and I�ll see what I can dig up,� Ali says, going back to staring into space.

Realising I�ve still got my helmet on, I pull it off and set it on the handlebars. �Mind if I ask a few more questions?�

The elder sighs and after getting me to add myself to the chain, proceeds to answer. Lifting and tossing the meat is cheap for the information that I want. Surprisingly, the moment my foot crosses the line into the school, I get a new window, one that I�ve never seen before.

You Have Entered a Safe Zone (�cole School)

Mana flows in this area are stabilised. No monster spawning will happen.

This Safe Space includes:

A School (+10% Skill Progression)

I soon learn that the guards are the town owner�s and they have been dealing with most of the spawning monsters, patrolling the main thoroughfares. Both �cole and FH Collins were safe zones and where nearly everyone was crashing these days since it was the only way to guarantee a monster didn�t just spawn in the middle of the night under your bed. Space was a premium though and hygiene levels had dropped since both electricity and water wasn�t working anymore which explained the rather rank smell of unwashed bodies. Then again, I was not complaining - I hadn�t washed in days either.

The meat was for the general stew pot as the regular truck delivery had never made it and a ton of food had spoiled when the electricity died. It was only some quick thinking that had the stores barricaded, with food being served in the cafeteria. The hunters were doing their best to supplement, but with nearly five thousand mouths to feed, they weren�t keeping up and everyone was on short rations now.

While I'm speaking the others catch up and the non-combatants and kids are quickly ushered in by a welcoming committee of delighted looking residents. In the background, I can hear questions being asked about where they came from and of any confirmed deaths. I guess knowing one way or the other is better than not. Richard and the other fighters are dragged away by my ex and her group, a quick glare by me keeping them away for now at least.

Unloaded, the men hop up onto the truck looking grim. The only other working truck they�d found had never come back from a recent trip so they need to get hunting immediately. However, hunting monsters bigger and tougher than you are with our basic hunting rifles could not be easy.

�Jim,� I call to the elder and he turns back to me from speaking with his group about their next hunting grounds, obviously irritated by my interruptions. Hopefully, this will help, �Ran into a bear along the ride-in. I had to kill it and leave the meat. It�s about 45 minutes drive from here on the way to Haines Junction. Might be a bit rotten, it�s been a few hours but��

�Where?� His eyes narrow, already considering it. Free meat that doesn�t require them to fight is too good to pass up.

�I�ll show you,� I head back to the bike and then stop as a pair of guards appear in front of me, their faces impassive. �Hi there.�

�Lord Roxley would like to have a word,� the taller of the two Dark Elves speaks, hand casually resting on his sword hilt.

�Really now,� I can feel my lips widen and my balance shift before Ali practically shouts into my ear. �Don�t be an idiot! If he wants to, he can ban you from the Shop!�

That would be bad. �I guess I�m coming with you.�

Jim glares at the guards but says nothing, nodding to me to show he understands my predicament. On a whim, I grab the rifle from the holster and hand it to the man. �Shoots just like the real thing, except no recoil. You�ve got 21 shots in there. Try not to break it will you? I expect it back.�

Jim grunts, checking the rifle out as his friends look on in surprise.

�So Ali, you got the locator beacon on that turned on right?�

�Definitely. Still stupid, but these hicks won�t be able to figure out how to turn it off,� Ali smirks.

�Let�s go see your boss then,� I flash the pair a wide grin that doesn�t reach my eyes as I get onto the bike and wave them to lead me. This should prove interesting at the very least.

Chapter 7

On closer inspection, the building that the Shop is housed in is sheathed in some form of reflective silvery material. Spreading upwards in a rectangular block, it dominates the cityscape, jarring in its alienness. As we approach, the door slides open and we enter the foyer which is all black marble and more silver highlights. The moment we do, a System message appears.

You Have Entered a Safe Zone (City Centre)

Mana flows in this area are stabilised. No monster spawning will happen.

This Safe Space includes:

Village of Whitehorse City Centre

The Shop

�Village?� Yeah, the city�s small but that�s a bit of a demotion. I guess the System is only counting System recognised housing.

�Getting a map now John, I�ll overlay with your human maps in a bit so you can see things properly when you put on the helmet,� Ali speaks, eyeing the building we walk in. �Of course, if you got those cyber-eyes, I could just shoot it through to you but you just got whiny about wanting to keep your meat eyes.�

So not the right time. I sigh and rub my temples, wondering for the thousandth time whether there was something in the Shop that�d let me neuter Spirits. Or at least gag them.

We enter the elevators and shoot up to the top floor, the motion completely imperceptible. Heck, the only reason I know we�re on the top floor is due to the 360-degree view that the transparent walls afford me.

�Lord Graxin Roxley, Baron of the Seven Seas, Hunter of Drakyl, Master of the Sword and the Black Flame, Corinthian of the Second Order and acclaimed Dancing Master of the 196th Ball,� the guard announces as we step from the elevator. At my side, Ali translates in his usual helpful manner �Dark Elf, Baron, killed over a hundred demons, blade master and special fire mage, likes to cuddle with men aggressively and is a pretty, pretty dancer.�

The guard, unaware continues his introductions. �My lord, the Adventurer John Lee, Monster Bane and Redeemer of the Dead.�

Interesting. So my Titles actually mean something it seems. While I�m being announced, I take the time to watch Lord Roxley. The man (elf?) is tall, a good 6� 6� of lithe grace and purple hair that reaches his back. Pointy ears, black skin and purple eyes dominate an angular face atop a military cut swing jacket that�s all in black with hints of purple. Resting easy on his right hip is a sword and across from it on his left a pistol. He exudes easy confidence and charm and a part of me wants to go up and grab his trim butt and see how kissable he really is.

Mental Influence Resisted

The flashing note brings my lustful thoughts to a halt and Ali floats next to me, nodding at my glance, �Yup. He�s putting out a low-level bubble of charisma. Looks like a mixture of pheromones, good genes and subtle body mimicking behavior.� He pauses and then continues, �Still, feel free to jump his bones. I�ll watch and tape it.�

�How come his Status Bar is just a bunch of question marks after his name?� I ignore Ali�s assertions, though a part of me still wouldn�t mind. It�s not as if I haven�t dabbled before but maybe another day.

�Can�t access his information. Something�s blocking me,� Ali says.

�Welcome to the Village of Whitehorse Adventurer,� Lord Roxley says.

�Thank you,� I stand around, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Why me? The way we were announced tells me something formal is going on here, but what beats me like a white guy the day before the welfare check arrives.

�I must say, I had not expected one so� inexperienced, for one so titled,� Roxley smiles and this one is not at all friendly.

�Yeah. I got� lucky,� okay, downplay might be the better bet here perhaps. Or at the least, close to the vest.

�There is no Luck with the System,� Roxley states and the way he says it, it seems like it�s a quote. He gestures to a pair of lounging chairs and I walk over to join him, waiting for him to sit before doing so myself. Some courtesies I know, though who knows if they use the same forms.

�I will not keep you long. I�m sure you wish to use my Shop and see what has transpired in your city. Still, I would feel it remiss if I did not speak with you beforehand, to ensure that certain matters are clear,� Roxley leans forward, meeting my eyes and waiting for a nod before continuing, �I am the System registered owner of this Village. I have every intention of growing it to it�s fullest and adding this region to my Clan�s holdings.

�To ensure that, I�ve already hired many of your compatriots in the village. I understand you even met up with some of them and were instrumental in bringing some survivors back. For that, you have my thanks�

Quest Completed: The Safety of Many

Reward: 2,000 Credits per Each Survivor (22,000 Credits Received); 500XP per Survivor (5,500XP Received)

Type: Repeatable

Level Up!

You have reached Level 8 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 18 Free Attributes to distribute.

�Ah, congratulations!� Roxley smiles slightly as he watches me even as I will away the windows. He then stands and walks away to a sideboard, getting us a couple of drinks. �In my culture, each Level is celebrated.�

�Ali, how the hell does he know what�s going on?�

�At a guess boy-o? He�s got a System Companion too. From his eye, I�d say it�s an AI. Or you know, he could be reading you like a crystal,� Ali shrugs. �I�ve stopped a dozen probes into our information on the System already, and I only managed to stop them from reading us completely. He definitely has your basic stats at least. Well, hello there� Got to go. Try not to get killed.�

With those last words, Ali is gone. What the hell?

�To Strength!� Handing me the glass of dark blue liquid, Roxley toasts. I echo his cheer, sipping on the drink tentatively first. It�s sweet and smooth, almost like drinking a good mead. On that thought, I pull the drink away from my lips as memories of waking up on a beach, pantsless intrude. Good times with Luthien� I push those thoughts away too. Not now.

�I, will of course, reward you similarly for any others you may find and for other relevant information,� Roxley says.

�Ummm�� I pause, considering and then fill him in on Haines Junction giving him the abbreviated version I gave the others. His eyes narrow a bit but he doesn�t interrupt me, just thanking me for the information.

�Well Adventurer Lee, this has been enlightening. I expect I shall be seeing more of you, one so titled after such a short period is certain to do much,� Roxley says, offering me his hand. I take it, feeling a shiver pass through my body on contact which I push away. When he lets go of my hand, he inclines his head to the door and I take the dismissal, following the guards out. They deposit me a few floors down into the Shop.

Interestingly, when I arrive and place my hand on the crystal that will transport me to the Shop, I get a System window asking me to choose which one. I also have a default option and after a brief consideration, I decide to go with it. Ali seems to know them and I do too, a bit. Who knows - the others Shops might be even worst.

The Shop itself hasn�t changed much in the time that I�ve gone, which isn�t surprising. The two within greet me with cool professionalism until they realise that Ali isn�t here. Then the professionalism thaws a little bit, probably in anticipation of fleecing me.

Too bad I don�t have much for them to buy or sell. I push them a bit on the last few pieces of Ogre loot I hadn�t been able to contain in my inventory the first time around and the few pieces of extra loot I�ve picked up then but don�t bother haggling too much. Better to let them have a good deal now to build up some goodwill for when I bring Ali and more loot back in the future.

That done, I take a deep breath. I�ve been putting this off for a bit, making excuses for why I couldn�t do it in Haines Junction, promising that I�d do it once I was in Whitehorse. Now, faced with the ability to check on the Status of my family, I find myself hesitating. Believing they are dead and knowing are two different things. I bite my lip and then finally pay the cheap, cheap price to the System for information on my family.

I close my eyes, hands clenched before me as I hold back the tears by sheer force of will. I force myself to look up and breathe, force control over my body and by that, my emotions. I knew the answer before I paid, I knew this was the likely result. I knew it, but the pain still chokes me up for a moment. I cycle my breath for what seems like hours but is probably just a few minutes before I stuff the grief away again. Another time - I�ll deal with it another time.

I came down here for another reason though, one that came to mind when I stepped into the school. I pull up information on these Safe Zones, browsing for information. A quick perusal and a few questions get me the answers that I need. Any building purchased from the System is considered a safe zone, the System automatically stabilising the flow of mana in that location. Locations within a city are generally more expensive as the City Owner taxes all prices but in return, if 80% of all land that lay within a city�s boundary was part of the System, the entire city would be considered a Safe Zone.

Once again, I can�t help but feel the entire System is a scam. It seems engineered to force people into using it � destroying sensitive electronics with mana, creating safe zones only when a building is purchased, even the inventory items. If Steve Jobs was still alive, he probably would be jerking off to the System Help Guide.

I pull up the listings for the schools and then the other buildings that have been bought in short order. Not many at all, most owned by Roxley himself, with the only exceptions an armoury, an alchemist and another house. The house is registered as owned by Nicodemus of the Raven�s Circle, which puzzles me for a second before I recall the Giant. Ah right, Nicodemus / Nick, he was the accountant and GM wasn�t he? That must be where the �Raven�s Circle�� was headquartering themselves.

Out of curiosity, I make another query of the System and grimace. Of course, it�d work that way. Unless a fee was paid to register a designated heir, all buildings owned by an individual upon death would revert to the System. Yeah, keeping Roxley alive was in our best for now - he literally kept the monsters at bay by being alive.

I make a note to mention this to someone at some point before finally pulling up my own residence.

89 Alsek Rd.

Current Ownership: None

Current Occupant: John Lee, Adventurer

Cost: 20,000 Credits (50% discount for previous occupancy status)

Current Assigned Purpose: None

I�d rented a 1 bedroom suite beneath a house, but it looks like the System has decided I live in the entire location. I eye the Credits that I have left and I bite my lips for a moment. Easy come, easy go.

Congratulations!

You have purchased 89 Alsek Rd. You now own the building and may assign a purpose and upgrade the building. Upgrades may be purchased at the residence itself or at the Shop. Please note that all buildings have a minimum maintenance cost and if not met, will be returned to the System Pool.

22,000 Credits Deducted

Even after the Apocalypse, there are taxes.

Coming out of the City Centre, I come across a group of teenagers trying to bikejack Sabre. Something a little cruel rises up in me and I just stand there, grinning as one hunts for the keys and ignition, another attempts to pry up the seat with a crowbar while the last fiddles with where the engine is, trying to discern how to get it started. The crowbar slips, putting its edge into his friend�s shoulder but not even leaving a scratch on the bike.

Next to me, the pair of guards who escorted me down move to do something about this but I wave them down. They look at me incredulously at first but soon find as much cruel amusement as I do in the children�s futile efforts. In fact, we start betting on how long it�ll take before the group give up. They take 5 and 8 minutes, I take 10.

Teenage stupidity and stubbornness win me 50 credits each after the ten-minute mark passes. By this point, the kid with the crowbar is whaling on the seat in an attempt to get the bike to do something, anything. Tier IV Armor might not be much to the System, but in old Earth standards, I might as well be driving a tank.

Having made an easy 100 credits, I send the command to Sabre to turn on. The kids jump and finally spot us and I give them a slight wave before touching the band around my neck to call forth the helmet. As the helmet folds up around my face, they jump back and then as one, scatter.

Kids.

Strange. What started out as a cruel prank has actually lightened my spirits, at least a little. Feeling happier than I have been in a while, I wave goodbye to the guards and head home.

As I cross the bridge that separates downtown Whitehorse from the Riverdale subdivision, I note that the river seems to have risen higher. I wonder how the dam is doing but now is not the time. Instead, I gun it, passing F.H. Collins on the right where another tent city has sprung up on its grounds, covering every single piece of protected land in canvas and humans. The greenery on the left has me keeping a close eye out and I�m not the only one as the series of guards posted at the school attest. I hit the roundabout and more guards stand outside the Super A, making my lips twist in distaste.

Passing empty ranch houses on my left and right as I cross through the suburb, the entire place feels like a ghost town with not a single person present. Broken doors, shattered windows and blood marks tell a desperate, bloody story. Cars are abandoned in driveways everywhere, previously snow-covered lawns brown and grey with lack of care.

I pull Sabre to a stop in front of my house as I come to the end of the street at the T-junction, staring at my house with its double garage doors beneath the open-air deck, the double-storey white residence connected directly to the garage itself. Wind ruffles my hair, bringing the smell of pine from the trees that cling to the clay-cliff face behind the house. The main entrance doorway is broken into, the double-doors off their hinges, the usual white coat of paint marred by a single dark red streak at the door. The bushes that make up our fence look to be doing fine, adapted as they are to a Northern spring. I glance to the right, noting the stand-alone workshop has its door rolled open, the contents stolen with only a few scattered items left. To the side, I see the fence that blocks off the garden that abuts the hill in the back is at least still in good condition.

The moment I turn onto the driveway and pass the lot threshold, I get a System message.

Welcome to 89 Alsek Rd.

Current Ownership: John Lee, Adventurer

Current Occupants: None

Current Assigned Purpose: None

Structural Integrity: 94% (More�)

Would you like to assign a purpose?

Interesting, purpose? I mentally select yes, curious to see what it speaks of. The list of purposes come up, most of them greyed out but the top two � Residence and Safe House. A quick verification shows the first gives a bonus to resting and offers more upgradeable options in terms of add-on facilities, the second a reduced cost for security upgrades for the entire lot. My hand hovers for a moment, trying to decide between the two. The safe house option would allow me to build walls, cameras and other security measures fast but the residence with add-on facilities could really make use of the workshop.

Really though, I should ask Randy first before I make any further decisions. I dismiss the pop-up and draw my sword, heading in through the broken door. Best to see if there are any unpleasant surprises awaiting me inside.

There are, just none alive. The large pool of blood and the blood splatters around the room tell the tale of Randy�s likely fate. The body is gone, hopefully taken care of by one of the citizens, but I really wouldn�t bet on it. The tang of rotten, clotted blood fills the house, mitigated by the open doorway but I sigh, making a note that this will need to be cleaned soon.

I make my way to the garage and open the doors, rolling the bike in securely before making way to my own suite beneath the stairs. The door here is broken too, but nothing seems taken. Then again, it�s not as if I had a lot to take. A couch and my laptop dominate the small living room while in my bedroom, my King-sized indulgence lies unmade. Everything looks exactly the way I left it, and for a moment, I have this surreal feeling that everything I�ve experienced was just a bad dream.

I lean against the doorjamb, mind spinning as I finally realise I�m home. I�m safe - mostly. Monsters can�t spawn in here and Ali would warn me of anything that spawned close by. A tightness in my chest that I�ve carried for days releases slightly, just a little bit and I find myself smiling.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the stickiness from not having a proper wash and shake the feelings off. First things first, grab a change of clothing and then it�d be time to check out the rain barrels at the back for a quick wash. I grab a shirt and pair of jeans and then pause, laughing to myself.

�Leave you alone for 5 minutes and you go completely nuts eh?� Ali snorts, floating next to me as he surveys my old home.

�Ali! You son-of-a-bitch! Where did you go?� I grouse, throwing the useless clothing aside. Adding a bunch of inches in height was great, except for the fact that none of my old clothing would fit me. I head upstairs for Randy�s closet, after all, he isn�t going to need it anymore and he was always a big man.

�Got an invite from a shiny pair of bits. Rox-boy had an AI Companion who invited me over to chat,� Ali chuckles, shaking his head. �Figured you could handle yourself for a few minutes. Decent buy on this place, but you got fleeced at the Shop.�

I grunt, picking through and finding some clothes that I figure will work. I head to the back, beginning to strip before I raise an eyebrow at the Spirit who shakes his head negatively. Good, no monsters.

�Talk,� I grunt and begin the process of bathing in the garden. It�s not great, but it�s certainly better than nothing and while I couldn�t necessarily smell myself after days of stewing in my own stink, I�m sure others could. Not to mention that the simple act of being clean is bliss in itself.

�Hmmm� where to start. First, don�t fuck with the elf. He�d eat you, me, your friends, the entire city and then wonder when the main course would start. He�s got at least an Advanced-class in the high levels, or, and I�d lay good money on this, a Master class. Very little chance he�s got a Grandmaster class otherwise he wouldn�t be hanging out in a dump like this. Second, he�s in a rush. I don�t think X-124 knew I picked that up, but again, we�re outclassed here. Third, he�s the reason why the Raven�s Circle is so high-level. He�s been giving out Quests like candy in an attempt to get as many survivors in town as possible,� Ali says.

I finish dunking myself in the water and pause long enough to ask �Why?�

�Mmmm, City prerequisites. Once we get the buildings bought up, he�d be able to upgrade to a Town which gives us a series of new building options. There�s a minimum citizen requirement for that though, and of course, you guys are his tax base.�

I grunt at that and then nod. Makes sense. I pull up the house�s menu and flick it to him as I get dressed, sliding the high-tech jumpsuit on first before more normal clothing. Thank the gods the jumpsuit had an auto-clean feature on itself, otherwise, I�d refuse to wear it again. �Recommendations?�

�You�re asking? Shit, did he drug you?� Ali teases as he spins it around and points to the Residence option. �No choice. If you intend to stay, this is it.�

I nod, happy that we concur and make the selection. Sorry Randy, guess I�m taking over your place. If you are alive, I�ll apologise in person. That done, I also make a quick payment on a rush basis to bring the integrity of the location back to 100% which fixes all the doors. It�s amusing watching the System take care of it as the doors shimmer and then reappear, fixed and brand new. Much more convenient than doing it myself.

�Where to now boy-o?� Ali asks.

�Got to get my rifle back,� I make sure the doors are locked before I roll the bike out, the sun still shining with its cheerful brightness. I grimace, pulling up a clock and realise it�s nearly time for dinner. Damn midnight sun.

�Jim!� I wave to the Elder, having parked the bike around the corner from the school on 5th street. Not as many people roaming by and while it�s out of sight for me, Ali can sense it and I can easily call it to me through the Neuro Link. The helmet I stow in its band form around my neck, finally giving up on acting like it�s a normal helmet.

�Ah, John,� he comes over to shake my hand before he unslings the rifle from his shoulder and hands it back to me a tad reluctantly. �That is a powerful weapon.�

�Yup and�� I shut up, my brain kicking in before I finish the sentence if you get me a pouch of tobacco and your daughter it�s yours. Not appropriate.

�And�?� Jim says.

�Uh� there�s a basic version of one like it for around 500 Credits in the Shop. If you skip getting the upgrades, it�s pretty decent,� I reply, quickly backpedalling.

At the mention of the System, Jim scowls, �The rifle came in handy. We had to fight off this 3 legged, furred creature that was eating the bear. Couldn�t save all the bear meat, but it more than made up for it.�

�Good! What�d you get for the loot?� I grin at him, curious.

�� Jim pauses, speaking slowly. �Loot?�

�Shit. No one told you about that?� I wince, wondering how much they must have missed.

�Not as if you knew either noob,� Ali points out helpfully.

�Put your hand on your next kill, or whoever does the kill, and think Loot. The System will let you grab some items that can be sold for Credits in the Shop,� I explain and then add. �You can still use the meat that�s left, it just gives you a small portion of the creature. That�s how I skinned the bear.�

Every time I mention the System, Jim scowls. I can understand not liking the world we are in or the damn scam that it is, but the way he acts, it�s pure spite. It�s not as if the System cares if we loot a body or not, �Try it the next time. You�ll need to get new weapons soon, unless you want to try killing things with spears when you run out of bullets.�

Jim�s grimace is enough to let me know I�ve gotten through to him. I nod a goodbye to him saying, �Alright, I guess I should try some of this food��

He nods, gesturing me into the building itself and I head over, surveying the grounds for more familiar faces. In the school, only a small walkway is available as people sit, squat and rest, marking out where they will be sleeping tonight. A few questions has me directed to the cafeteria, most watching me with wary or curious eyes.

The serving tables are set-up in the cafeteria itself, people streaming in and out as they get food before most of them leave for less crowded environs, the close-packed quantities of unwashed humanity a bit much on the senses. Everything is dirty, dishevelled and demoralised; many just sitting down without a goal. No electricity means no easy entertainment or ability to use a million, billion electronic distractions that we have come to rely on, and until more buildings are purchased, safe zones are at a premium.

I stand in line and wait my turn, eyeing the portions doled out. The stew is mostly water with some slivers of meat and vegetables in it. Considering I lost my backpack and all my rations to a dragon and someone had already raided my house, I don�t have a lot of other options at this time. I�ll have to look into purchasing some food from the Shop the next time, but for tonight, this works.

A part of me wants to be among humanity, unwashed and demoralised as they are. The press of humanity, the closeness of people is something that I hadn�t realised I missed until I met up with Richard and his crew. It�s not easy for most, shifting from a peaceful lifestyle to dealing with the System and its monsters and I can see more than one person being comforted as they suddenly break down crying or just stop, staring into space. I�m mostly a stranger here, having only arrived a few months ago so I have no true ties to the community, not like many here who have lost friends, family and co-workers in days. Whitehorse has always been a small town, so everyone has lost someone.

I grab the bannock, flashing the server a smile and getting a blush back before I go looking for butter, not finding any. Stew and bannock it is then and I head for the doors, hoping for some fresh air. I catch more than one glance, a few looks filled with hope which is quickly dashed. Outside, I find an empty spot and continue people watching as I mull over the future.

What happens to us now? Traditionally, the First Nations hunted for their for meat but with such a large group, that probably won�t help in the long run, not to mention that many of the hunting grounds are at least an hour away. We�re lucky this is in mid-April, giving us the option of getting more plants into the ground, but there is no way for us to actually plant all the food the town will need. No more food from the south means the winter will be brutal, not unless we can find another source of supplies. That means we need the System and all the ability to buy and sell in the Shop - which means not pissing off Lord Roxley.

It�s not a nice conclusion especially since it seems like he�s just another vulture, dropping onto the still twitching corpse of Earth but it is what it is. I wonder how many of these others are seeing that, thinking that far ahead? For that matter, why am I? I�ve never been much for this kind of thinking before.

�Ali, those increases in Intelligence. Are those things making me plan and think further?�

�Yeah, sort of,� Ali shrugs, turning away from trying to look down a nearby lady�s blouse. �It�s a bit hard to pinpoint the changes, but sort of. When you increase your level or your base stats, there are two effects. The first is, of course, your increase in your Mana pool which the System adjusts for you. The second is a change in your brain, allowing you to process and understand data better and then eventually process that data into information, to put things together into concrete ideas and plans, especially in unexpected ways. That�s the physical side, the thing that makes you, you.�

�So, what, I�m smarter than Einstein now?�

�Ein� who? Look, you weren�t a complete Goblin before. But you�ve also mostly been fighting and running so your increases have mostly been focused in that area. You�re faster and smarter at fighting, not at solving world peace. However, there�s also side benefits like your ability to plan and think about things, at comprehending information.�

I grunt, mopping up the last of the food. That�s frightening, that the System - that Mana is changing me so directly. It�s also just as scary thinking what someone who specialises or puts all their points into Intelligence would be like. What else is the System changing without me knowing? The more I learn about the System, the less I like it.

As I stand, I realise that the group of children playing in the corner are doing so with some mini-ponies masquerading as dogs. On a whim, I walk over, depositing the bowl in a nearby tray. Lana gives me a hug when she spots me, Mikito offering me a slight nod. Richard seems to be missing, but that�s okay as I view the two ladies in turn, both of them having obviously found a washbasin somewhere to clean up the worst of the dirt and blood. Mikito looks at first glance to be doing fine, stoic and calm, but little signs show she�s on the edge. Fingers trembling ever so slightly, a twist in the mouth when no one is looking.

Lana looks to be doing better, more subdued by the generally gloomy atmosphere here but certainly not as broken. She has also changed into new clothing and the top she�s found is just a little too small, ensuring that more than one man has enjoyed looking at her generous assets. I have to work hard on not staring myself, reminding myself that I�m not a teenager anymore. No matter what my damn hormones are saying.

�How are you guys doing?� I gesture around before we return to watching the pair of dogs give rides to the kids. Parents watch on, some disinterestedly, some with deep concern but none make a move to stop it. I watch for a moment then I pull some chocolate from my stash, waving over some of the smaller ones and handing out the chocolate. It looks like they could do with the calories and after the initial rush, the children return to playing with the kids. In the meantime, the girls stay silent.

�We found a place to stay but it�s� umm� crowded,� Lana answers once we are alone again and Mikito nods firmly. �Richard�s taken the dogs to Collin�s, we�re hoping there�s more space there. Where are you staying?

�In my house,� I say.

�That�s not safe!� Lana hisses, turning to me. �I know you�ve been out in the woods yourself, but it really isn�t safe. You never know when a monster could spawn.�

�Oh,� realising my mistake, I quickly explain. �I bought it from the System so it is a Safe Zone. Still, won�t stop them from breaking in, but I�ll have enough warning especially since the doors and windows are fixed.�

�Mmmm�.�

�Is that where you bathed?� Mikito speaks up from her seat.

�In a way. Randy, ummm, the former owner, he had rain barrels that were still filled up in the back,� I explain.

Mikito smiles and shares a look with Lana before they each take hold of one of my arms, gripping them firmly. �John��

And that�s how I ended up with three new guests and a half-dozen mini-pony dogs. At least the dogs make a great alarm system.

Chapter 8

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The world centers on my breathing and then nothing, a complete absence of thought fading in and out at times. I still have a long way to go, even with the purchased skill but as my alarm goes off, I realise I�ve been at it for half-an-hour now. Much better than what I could have done before the purchase.

It�s strange that such a simple thing helps me feel so much better, more balanced and calm. A part of me still wants to poke and prod at the System, about the why�s and wherefores, but it�s easy to push aside now, to focus on what is. Those questions can be answered in due time, but for now, there are things to do. Like breakfast.

�I love you,� I come down after a rain barrel bath, rifle clutched in one hand to grab the cup of offered coffee. �If that�s bacon, I�m marrying you.�

Lana laughs, shaking her head and pokes me with the spatula as she stands in the kitchen cooking up breakfast using my spare camping stove in a plain black borrowed shirt. The house looks cleaner, more put together with blood stains gone and furniture put aright. It must be my guests since after being forced to invite them home, I spent the rest of the night hidden away in my room going over the various upgrade options of my new residence. Spending so much time alone recently and being a natural introvert meant the rush of humanity drained all my social batteries.

�It�s the end of the world, not my taste,� Lana retorts and points to a seat. �Sit and eat.�

I comply happily, digging in before I have to ask, �Where did this come from?�

�Richard. He visited the Shop this morning while you were asleep and traded in our loot for some groceries. We gave most of what we got to the others, but we kept some essentials,� Lana answers me.

�Where are they?� I look around and note that both Mikito and Richard aren�t around.

�Hunting. Richard got an invite to join in and Mikito insisted on going. They took the dogs with them and joined up with a few others to work the area around Long Lake. Seems like you can put together parties in Town and share experience that way,� she explains. �I�m going to see what I can do to help at the schools. What�s your plans?�

�Nothing,� I smile slightly, shrugging. �I was thinking of taking it a bit easy, maybe spend a little time looking over the rest of the house and resting.�

Lana purses her lips, looking at me for a moment but does not comment further. After a moment she finishes the last of her coffee before she heads off to the room the girls shared to get dressed. Dressed for sure, since when she walks around the counter, I realise she�s not wearing pants. My jaw must have dropped because she grins back at me mischievously and explains in a purr that she doesn�t have anything to wear.

Ali just wolf-whistles and helpfully points out that she probably is coming on to me and proceeds to provide me graphic, graphic advise on what to do. I tune him out again, and when Lana does come back out wearing the same worn jeans as the day before, I almost wonder if what she said was the full truth. Either way, not the problem this moment. She waves goodbye to me, heading out and I sit back, staring around me.

The next half-hour has me puttering around the house, cleaning up the dishes and the stovetop, sorting out the remaining mess upstairs and my suite and then the workshop. When I find myself trying to turn on the water to water the plants that I realise I�m just trying to find work to do, something to get my mind off that gnawing pit of grief that is still bottled up in my body. I walk over to my bookcase, staring at my old friends and realise that�s not going to work either.

Fuck.

I close my eyes, leaning on the bookcase and realising that make-work isn�t going to cut it. I either have to deal with my emotions, all the things that I�ve been putting off or� Or I need to be out there, fighting. That�s when I don�t think. Out there, with the monsters, I can�t afford to do it.

I grim humorlessly, staring at my hand. Stupid. Such a stupid idea. But there might be more survivors who need help, more people trying to get back to town. Maybe I could do a little good too.

First step is to swing by the old hospital near the school and then take the road down to check out the scattered homes on this side of the river. There�s not a lot of people who live past the hospital, but with the increased number of monsters down this way, anyone who did live here might have been trapped. Anyway, it won�t take me longer than a half-hour. Other than a single, unwary crab-like monster that I kill, Ali and I find no sign of surviving humans and I don�t feel the need to go hunting here. The quest and the potential lives I might save are more important, at least for now.

After that, I leave Riverdale itself, the goal to make it to Porter Creek and the other suburbs to do a final check. There are more people out during the day, even the threat of on-going sudden death can�t beat pure boredom. In Rotary and Shipyards Park on the river, I note people working the fields over, breaking up the earth to begin planting. I�d barely glanced at Rotary Park on the way to Riverdale last night, figuring the churned earth just another apocalyptic change.

Once I leave downtown, it�s a faster ride to the suburbs. I don�t even bother slowing down to shoot at the monsters I see on my way there, but a part of me knows my haste is wasted. If there are survivors, they could have made their way in from these nearby suburbs on foot easily enough or someone like the circle would have escorted them in. Still, I�ll feel better making sure.

Surprisingly, I come across a few holdouts; families and individuals who refuse to leave their residences from sheer pride or stupidity. By the sounds of it, I�m not the only one who has tried to convince the holdouts to move, so I leave them to it, just making notes of where they are. I�ll leave it for someone else to deal with these idiots. Unfortunately, by the time I finish my circuit, other than a few simple kills, I�ve not found a single survivor to bring back and I�ve wasted half the day already.

It's strange, driving through abandoned houses and spotting the occasional dead and rotting body, the smell carrying through the wind. I know I should feel something for them. Pity. Sympathy. Grief. Something. I don�t though, just this hollow emptiness where the feelings should be. Pushing aside my own emotions over my own loss has left me with this emptiness, this coldness. Why should I cry for someone I didn�t know when I haven�t for those that I do? I can�t change the fact that they are dead, can�t make them come back alive. Dead is dead and there�s no point wasting any further thought on them. It�s cold and heartless, but it�s reality. What is, is.

The only good news I have is that you can flash cook some monster meat with a burst from my rifle. Having forgotten to bring lunch, this was a happy solution, if not particularly tasty. Still, food is food and it means I can move on to phase 2 of the plan.

If everything that is easy to reach by bicycle is taken care of, then I just need to range wider. Until I�m able to find a more general solution to the transportation problem though, closer is better since I can only carry one other with me. That means that the Lorne Mountain Community and eventually Carcross are the way to go. Decision made, I swing back out to Klondike Highway and gun it.

The Klondike has never been very well kept and it�s not much better now. Already, I can see potholes and depressions occurring and I wonder how many years it�ll be before the entire highway is useless, permafrost and lack of maintenance returning the Yukon back to its pristine state. Idle thoughts as I scan the forests on either side, a part of me for the first time really seeing my surroundings again. It�s a beautiful place, but the human can only take wonder for so long before it makes it mundane. Now, having to watch out for monsters that Ali might miss, I see it all again.

Forests that go on for as long as the eye can see, lakes a beautiful glacier green, snow-capped mountains in the backdrop. It�s no wonder we had a constant flow of tourists, a veritable horde of Southerners descending each summer in search of the untouched beauty of nature, that pioneer charm that city life in the south has been stripped of.

It�s all a lie of course. Among the trees are the occasional residence, the lodges and bread-and-breakfasts that catered to the tourists. All nestled away in the forest as they attempted to convince their guests they were part of the wilderness, all the while providing the benefits of electricity, the Internet and running water. Now the lodges and B&B�s lie empty, their occupants either dead or fled. No one wants to return to the pioneer days really, even the First Nation communities demand their rights to modern conveniences like running water, working schools and electricity. It�s no wonder � the wilderness is dirty, smelly and deadly.

Morbid thoughts are pushed aside as Ali bids me to pull over.

�So, remember how you mentioned you wanted to work on some of your skills?� Ali enquires, sweet as can be.

�Yeah�� I reply warily.

�Good. Transform the bike and grab your sword. There�s a nest of ants about 800 meters in. Chop chop time,� Ali grins.

Even as I do as he says, I can�t help but ask, �Why the sword?�

�That�s your personal weapon. And you couldn�t stop talking about how cool the Guard was in your videos.� Ali says.

�Okay,� I nod firmly, not bothering to hide my path through the woods. We still haven�t left the low zones yet, so this should be a good test.

The Erethran Honor Guard are feared for their combat abilities for a number of reasons. To start with, unlike many other groups, they don�t specialise in Tech or Magic, mixing and matching to suit the individual preferences of the Guard members. Unfortunately, I have only a single spell right now and it�s not one that I will likely need to use. The other reason they are feared is due to their Class skill, their ability to enhance their Personal Weapons, transforming even the simplest weapon into something truly deadly. I can�t do that either. To be frank and Ali can be Sally, I wouldn�t even qualify to join them.

However, if I ever want to make full use of my class, I need to start training the way they train. One thing that was very clear from the downloaded footage is that they make use of their personal weapons in a very unique way due to the fact the weapons are Soulbound. It�s entirely different from any fighting technique used by humanity too, which is why all I can do now is experiment.

Of course, first I have to find the damn Ants. �Ali, are you sure its 800 meters?�

I don�t need an answer since the Ants give me one, springing their ambush as I walk blindly into it. The first rushes out from behind a bush, closely followed by another. All around me, I can hear Ants the size of bulldogs come boiling out.

I drop into a reverse lunge, letting the Ant skewer itself on my blade. Instead of taking the time to extract the blade, I let go and I shift to my back-stretched supporting leg, ramming an elbow into the ant behind me. I hear carapace shatter and spot another Ant jump towards my face, its black mandibles nearly on me. I raise my hand in a cut, calling the soulbound sword into my hand. My control is slow, my commands hesitant and the sword appears half-way through the creature in a weird explosion of light, destroying the sword itself and the Ant and pelting me in heat and broken metal. It�s bad enough that I get a small damage alert from Sabre itself as the explosion tears apart some of the armor.

Ooops. Thrown onto my back from the attack, another Ant clamps itself onto my leg and another one attempts to bite through the armor in my torso. The first actually hurts a bit, its mandibles exerting pressure enough that I decide to take care of it with a swift jerking motion of my leg. I ignore the second Ant, its attacks insufficient to penetrate the thicker armor around my torso.

Time to get back to practising. A single failure is no reason to quit. I flip myself back onto my feet, the Ant in my middle dislodged from its futile attempts and I recall the sword to plunge into its back. More and more Ants swarm me and I start moving, lashing out with punches and kicks in my mecha, calling and recalling the sword at intervals. It�s a bit of a curb stomp really. The Ants can barely do any damage to me individually and I never stay still long enough for them to pile on, the added speed and strength that Sabre provides me allowing me to over-power even then five Ant team that had me held down for a moment.

It takes a long time for me to kill them all off though and when I�m done, I must have ranged over a hundred meters, smashing, stabbing and killing. Ali watches, popcorn in hand with an occasional warning or an even rarer useful piece of advice. Once I�ve recovered, I begin the slow process of looting the bodies.

�Any progress?� I grumble, touching another body and flicking the loot into my inventory. There�s got to be an easier way of doing this.

�Of course not. You think it�s that easy to get a new skill? Or increase your current skill level?� Ali snorts, shaking his head. �It takes years for Mastery to occur and you�re on the steepest part of the slope. Gains will take forever. This? This was a warmup.�

I grunt and get back to looting the corpses, each Ant removed of its chitinous outer shell and a slab of meat. Occasionally, I get even some mandibles, though god knows what that�s for. The entire looting process takes longer than the fight and I wonder if it�s even worth bringing the bodies back. Ants, even giant ants, don�t really have a lot of meat on their bodies.

No, better to get the move on if I want to actually make it to Mount Lorne at the very least. The community is isolated enough that I might actually find a survivor or two.

It�s not even 5 minutes later when Ali announces, �We�re entering a higher level zone soon, figure average level in the low-to-mid 20�s.�

Even before I can acknowledge it, Ali continues; �We�ve got trouble. There are 8 Hakarta warriors in a building to the left at the t-intersection. �

�Hakarta?�

�Large, aggressive green-skinned individuals with tusks who come from a warrior culture. Often hire themselves out as shock troops. Closest analogue are Orcs,� Ali explains hurriedly to me.

�About time,� I grin slightly beneath my helmet. What kind of fantasy would world it be without Orcs? As I spot the two-storey log building that dominates the Carcross cut-off, I note a slight glint in the bottom window. Instinct makes me start leaning to the side and I feel the beam punch through my shoulder, my body spasming around the damage. I�m sliding off the bike into a controlled crash, the pain too sudden for my body to catch up with it.

As momentum keeps me rolling on the ground, another blast kicks up the asphalt. Pain radiates through me, my shoulder a complete mess with a hole burnt right through it. I manage to trigger the quantum state manipulator (the QSM) just before a third shot passes through where I would have been, pain tearing through me again from the energy that passes through the dimensions. I finally come to a stop about ten feet and another dimension from my bike. I�m invisible and in another dimension so the Hakarta aren�t shooting at me anymore as I just lie on the road, dealing with my injuries.

After a time, I manage to gain sufficient control to cast my only spell, patching my wound such that I�m able to stand. When I turn to look at the building, the Hakarta are coming out in a group of five, their movements with that polished training you see in movies. Ali�s right, they are extremely muscular, green and tusky. At a glance, they�d be perfect orcs � if orcs wore body armour and carried beam rifles.

�What the hell Ali! They have rifles. Why didn�t you warn me?� I snarl as I stagger over to where my bike is, pain from the shoulder wound slowly fading.

�I did! They�re Hakarta, of course they have rifles!� snaps Ali, affronted.

�Orcs don�t have rifles. They�re Orcs!� I snarl, casting one last heal on my shoulder. It�s not fully patched, but it�s workable for now.

�I said the closest analogue is Orcs. I didn�t say there were orcs, I said they were Hakarta!� Ali says.

�Fuck it. Later. I need you to distract them so I can drop out and trigger the change,� I point away from me, bending down to the bike. I�m so not leaving Sabre here for them.

�Now he wants me to get shot,� Ali flies off, grumbling all the while. �Yohooo! Big, green and dumb, think you can hit me?�

The Hakarta react with speed, the Hakarta tasked to deal with him aiming and firing in a single swift motion. I turn off the QSM and trigger the change immediately, yanking the armor on. Unfortunately, a simple distraction isn�t good enough and the Hakarta covering my bike opens fire. Luckily, this one is caught mostly on the armor that slides over me. It still makes me jerk in reaction, sending me sprawling and I have to trigger the QSM once more as I roll away, the armor sufficiently equipped to come with me thankfully.

�Move! They�ve got a quantum grenade,� Ali shouts urgently and I bolt for it. The grenade hits the ground where I was and explodes, picking me up and throwing me forwards. It feels like a hundred burning needles have shoved themselves throughout my body and damage reports from the mecha suit start streaming in. I crawl my way away to the treeline and push myself till I�m a good distance away before I allow myself to breathe.

Thankfully, the Hakarta aren�t pursuing at speed so I have time to catch my breath. Ali keeps an eye out for me as I recover and check over the damage reports. Thankfully, nothing is broken irretrievably but a number of systems have re-routed to secondary circuits to deal with the existing damage.

�Still doing a sweep, they�ve got a scanner. Looks to be only a Mark V though, so you�ve got about 5 minutes before they�re in range. Run or fight boy-o,� Ali calls out.

Run or fight. I�m injured, in pain and outnumbered. They�ve got training, experience and levels on me. Good sense says run.

�Let�s kill them,� I snarl, retrieving my rifle and checking it for damage. Stupid but if I wanted to be smart, I�d be home. Two can play this game.

Bad news for the Hakarta. Their scanner works great, but if I�m no longer using the QSM it has nothing to pick up on. Curled up and ready to ambush them with Ali providing real-time updates on their positions, I get ready to take my revenge.

�Coming around the tree in 5, 4, 3�� intones Ali.

The Hakarta step around and I take my shot. The first shot goes for the scanner itself, blasting the valuable equipment into so much junk. Of course, the Hakarta holding it has it up to his chest so he gets shot too, though it doesn�t look like a killing wound.

I roll back into cover under the tree and keep rolling, letting the gradient of the hill get me out of the way of the return fire. A quantum grenade arrives soon afterwards, but this one does no damage as I�m still phased into this reality and the ancillary explosive damage in this reality is insufficient to breach Sabre�s armor at this distance.

I trigger the QSM the moment it�s safe and leg it to a nearby tree, spinning around and waiting. The Hakarta are aggressive, coming around my original sniping position and getting ready to finish me. They are disciplined and smart, coming around fast with each member having their own field of fire. Me, I just shoot the green bastard who is facing me straight in the face. As the others begin to swing around to finish me, I fire again before rolling behind cover and triggering the QSM.

Two more times. That�s as many times as I can use the QSM, if I keep my time in the other state short. I make sure I do, booting it not away from them but directly to them. When I get close enough, I drop back into reality, my rifle pointed straight at the third Hakarta, a moment before I pull the trigger. The blast catches it in the side of the neck, blowing his head clean off but I don�t have time to watch. There are 2 more left from the initial party, one wounded, and I need to finish them. I drop the rifle, swinging my right hand in an overhand chop direct into the arms of another Hakarta who is turning to bring his weapon to bear. Too big for close range combat, he never gets it to me in time before I disarm him and then behead him with the sword I call into being.

The last Hakarta doesn�t bother with his rifle, instead tackling me. I lose grip of my sword as I fall. Thankfully the shock absorbers in Sabre remove most of the damage and I get an arm in the way of the plunging knife, redirecting its force sufficiently that it doesn�t skewer me, just leaves a deep cut in the top of my shoulder armor. I grip him close with my arm then and recall my blade with my free hand before pummeling him with my pommel. His helmet stands the first few blows well enough but eventually shatters. A few more strikes leaves the Hakarta lifeless above me, at which point I push the creature off.

5 down. I cast another Minor Healing to staunch the bleeding in my injured shoulder where I�ve re-opened the wound and then proceed to loot the bodies. Surprisingly, the first body I loot gives me access to all their weapons and armor. I guess fighting humanoids who actually buy their equipment from the System is extremely profitable. I can�t help but grin, grabbing everything possible and dumping it into my inventory. By the time I�m done looting the bodies, I�ve received 5 Beam Rifles (Type IV), 5 Tier V personal body armor (3 significantly damaged), personal arms for each Hakarta and 3 Plasma Grenades along with 432 Credits.

�Ali, scout the building will you?� I begin to make my way back, wondering if I could somehow lure at least a few others out.

�Sir, yes Sir!� mouths Ali but I ignore it. Got to let the Spirit get his shots in, otherwise, it�s impossible to work with him. Thankfully, he still does his job.

�3 left. They are set-up in the center room of the ground floor. Looks like the leader and a couple more grunts, guarding the entrances to the room,� Ali reports back in a few minutes. I�ve set-up a short distance away, watching the building from the tree line across the highway. I nod at his words, getting a little more detail about the layout before working out the new plan.

Letting Ali keep an eye on them, I walk boldly up to the door and open it. I spin out of the way just in case, but no bombs or shots go off. A quick peak shows me it�s still clear and I walk up to the next door, pulling and priming a grenade. Once at the door, I gently depress the door handle and then quickly toss the grenade in, hunkering around the corner even as the Hakarta open fire, tearing chunks out of the door and even catching me a glancing blow.

The explosion is significantly more powerful than I expected, tearing drywall apart like tissue and dumping me on my ass as more damage messages scroll through in the bottom left of my vision. I roll around, trying to get my rifle to bear and realise I might as well not bother, the lifeless and mangled bodies of the three telling its own tale. Battle over, Ali lets the important notifications creep into my view.

Level Up! * 2

You have reached Level 10 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 21 Free Attribute Points to distribute.

Twice in a single battle? I knew I was getting clobbered by running rather than fighting and the first ten levels were the easiest to gain, but still, twice? No wonder the others had gained levels so fast. Those free attribute points were really starting to creep up there. I�d have to make a decision soon since they weren�t doing me any good just sitting unallocated.

I spend a few minutes putting out fires to ensure the building doesn�t burn down, beginning to realise how lucky I am. After I loot the bodies, I then drag the bodies out of the house and stack them to the side. No reason to let them rot in the building after all. This time, looting the bodies gets me some scrap, a few personal weapons and their System credits. Note to self, plasma grenades should not be used unless I really need them. I make a final sweep of the building, finding some minor conveniences including what looks to be a mana-charged stove, food stores and high-tech sleeping bags. As I put them into my inventory, I can�t help but think that Lana would love the stove.

Other than the bodies, there�s a single glowing crystal In the remnants of the room I dragged the bodies from which I eye askance.

�Ali�?�

�Control crystal for the fort,� Ali explains.

�What fort?�

�The one you�re standing in of course,� Ali says.

�This is a restaurant and grocery store, not a fort!� though it looks like the Hakarta have cleared out most of the grocery items and started putting together a proper base of operations.

�System designated fort. Created at locations of importance outside of a city, generally a building that commands significant views or a strategic location. Considering we�re about 45 minutes out from Whitehorse on the only major highway in? I�d say both. Now, go on and touch the crystal,� Ali replies wearily.

Would you like to take Command of the Carcross Cutoff Fort?

(Y/N)

Congratulations! You are now Commander of the Carcross Cutoff Fort

Population: 1/1

Assigned Guards: 0/20

Structural Integrity: 68/100

Upgrades: None

First Fort Won!

Bonus +3000 Experience Awarded

�So what now?� I frown, staring at the upgrade option.

�Nothing, now we leave. Next sentient who comes in will take the place, but at least you�ll get a notification,� Ali says, sounding bored.

�But�� Just leaving this place right after I won it is frustrating, but he�s right. It�s not as if I�m going to guard it, I still have to get to Mount Lorne and Carcross. I grit my teeth and stomp out, assuaging my feelings by pulling out my new status sheet.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

None

Health

510

Stamina

510

Mana

450

Status

Normal

Attributes

Strength

33 (50)

Agility

50 (70)

Constitution

51 (75)

Perception

Intelligence

45 (60)

Willpower

45 (60)

Charisma

Luck

Skills

Stealth

Wilderness Survival

Unarmed Combat

Knife Proficiency

Athletics

Observe

Cooking

Sense Danger

Jury-rigging

Explosives

Blade Mastery

PAV Combatics

Energy Rifles

Meditation

Mana Manipulation

Class Skills

None (5 Locked)

Spells

Minor Healing

Perks

Spirit Companion

Level 3

Prodigy (Subterfuge)

N/A

Damn, that�s a big difference from when I started. I�m not even remotely within human normal anymore, with reaction times and strength that are off the charts. I don�t even feel the weight of my armor or seem to run out of stamina doing normal things. At this rate, there are only a few more levels before I finally unlock my class skills and after seeing Mikito use hers, I really can�t wait. On the other hand, it feels like I�m not utilising the changes in my body properly, my actions themselves jittery in the extreme. I wonder if it�s my low Perception � I�m not able to properly perceive what I need to do and what I�m doing, especially with the way my body is moving.

�Ali? Recommendations?� I enquire, waving to the Stat Screen as I get ready, the slight hitch and a barely audible grinding making me grimace as Sabre switches form. Damn, but I�m going to have to get this fixed.

�Perception. Maybe you�d get a hint or two next time before you get shot,� Ali answers immediately.

I grimace but have to agree. I dump half my points into it and then, on a whim, I put another 3 into Luck. It�s such a nebulous stat, but from what I understand, it affects minor things in the System in my favor. A shot that does more damage than it would normally, maybe more or better System assisted Loot drops. It should also reduce the likelihood that someone with high Luck bends the System to their favor. More Luck doesn�t seem to hurt anyway.

The moment I confirm it, the world shifts. It�s so startling I begin to lose control of Sabre and even as I realise that, I correct it. It happens faster than an eyeblink, perception, understanding and reaction. Oh my, this is going to be fun.

Chapter 9

�Ali, information dump time. How come the System designated the Cutoff as a fort if no one bought it before?� I enquire as I ride down the winding mountain road. On both sides is untouched, unclaimed wilderness as far as the eye can see. Only occasionally is there a road that swings out to a lone farm or suburb, but each time Ali just shakes his head slightly, indicating a lack of human life.

�The building was there and it was a strategic spot. Seems like the System decided it was worthy of being picked,� Ali shrugs, disinterested in the conversation.

I�m not as easy to put off �But why? I thought we had to buy locations.�

�Settlements certainly. However, forts aren�t the same � they are freestanding fortifications. You are limited to guard, security and observation upgrades, which generally limit what you can do drastically. Of course, you can always buy other upgrades like an armory and the like, but it�s always more expensive� Ali says.

�Didn�t look like much of a fort to me, just a normal building,� I point out.

�Sure, that�s because no one has upgraded it yet. Get some walls built or buy the upgrades and it�ll start looking like a real fort,� Ali replies.

�Wait, we can build walls? Won�t the System ignore them?� After all, it�s ignored most of our other buildings.

�Nope. You guys are all System-claimed now, so what you do from now on matters to the System,� says Ali.

No use getting angry over this, but I can�t help but feel it. The System this, the System that. It makes decisions and discards everything that we ever did before it came, remaking us and our world without care. I find myself grinding my teeth and force myself to breathe out as I push the anger aside. In control once more, I ask lightly, keeping my voice calm. Or at least I think it�s calm, �That mean those non-fighter classes we found, they could fix up the cars?�

Ali nods, �Sure, if they use System registered materials, no reason it wouldn�t work. You�d either have to salvage or work the materials from start or buy from the Shop, and if they wanted to Mana engines and batteries, they�d have to get their skills up.�

Good news. I lean into the next turn, falling silent for now as I scan for more trouble. Even driving at speed, I see more than I used to - my increased perceptions able to take notice of more. I spot our local, non-transformed wildlife � squirrels, ground squirrels, a fox, occasional birds. I spot a few transformed and new animals, but none that are a danger to me so I don�t stop. I came out to check for survivors after all, not kill monsters.

Mount Lorne is a bust, the various small residences and communities that cluster around the community centre empty. They leave another mystery though � unlike many of the houses in Riverdale, many show signs of an organised exit. Doors closed, windows shut, no damaged or broken buildings to be seen and no blood. It is almost as if they evacuated somewhere else, those that weren�t attacked immediately at least. Did they make it into Whitehorse already? A puzzle for sure, but not one that I can solve right now.

I look up the time and note it�s 7pm already, glad that my helmet and Sabre came with a clock. The longer spring hours in the North throw me for a curve, daylight lingering till 10pm these days. If you�d asked me, I wouldn�t have guessed it no more than 4 at most. A dangerous little trick the North likes to play, making inexperienced backpackers push themselves till late at night, unaware of how long they have exerted themselves.

It�s another twenty minutes to Carcross at speed, but I take it a little slower and get there in half-an-hour. As I begin to pass the world�s smallest desert on my left, Ali pops back into life, finishing up the game of cards he has been playing to talk to me. �Humans. Lots of humans. At least a few hundred.�

I grin at his words, relaxing. Thank the gods, not every small community was being wiped off the map. I slow down anyway since I figure whoever is there is going to be jumpy and I�m glad I do because I�m so not ready for what I see.

Just before I get to town proper, I run into a barrier made up of cars, trucks and stacked furniture that reaches all across the road and down to my right as far as I can see, probably all the way to the river. The town itself is built adjacent to the river, spreading out from near the bridge and along the West side of the highway. From what I can see, where they have run out of cars and furniture, they have dug a trench on one side and just piled the extra earth on the other, shoring the entire thing up with occasional felled trees. Quite a feat if they have it all the way down to the river since it�s at least a good kilometer away.

I slow down and creep up to the barrier, waiting to be challenged. I don�t have to wait long.

�Who�s there?� A voice shouts in the slightly slurred accent of one of the First Nations. Tagish probably considering we�re in Carcross.

�John Lee. I�m here from Whitehorse,� I shout back, touching my helmet to make it disappear. I hear a gasp behind the barrier even from this distance. I guess the disappearing helmet trick is still kinda new.

�You human?� the voice continues to question.

�Yes!� I grimace, shaking my head at the question. I can hear the arguments behind as someone else points out that�s a stupid question. A hurried discussion happens even as they send one of their own to get someone in charge.

�Who�s the Greatest Hockey Player ever?� This time, at least, the question makes sense.

�Gretzky of course.� I snort, shaking my head. �Look, I don�t mean any harm, I just came to see what I could do to help.�

��Right, sorry about that. Just come up slow now. We got guns,� my unseen conversation partner says. I comply readily enough, riding my bike closer and then am forced to wait till they pull the makeshift gate aside to ride in.

Inside the barrier, Carcross has not changed much. A single lonesome gas station connected to the motel and gift shop is a short distance away on the left while to the right, the Tagish First Nation�s office building, a church and a variety of other residences spread out to the river that the entire community nestles against. Surprisingly, everything looks pretty normal though there are guards standing around me and further, all of them looking around with that wary expression I�ve come to recognise of people under siege. The guards on closer inspection are low-leveled, all in the single digits and have a new appellation next to each of them � Warrior, Riflemen, Guard and more.

�Ali, what�s with the new information?�

�New information that I can display. Not super useful all the time, and I�m translating it best as I can from what the System gives me, but there you go,� Ali replies, gesturing to the Status bars.

�Evening. Sorry about the reception, but we�ve had to be careful,� an older brunette woman with a pixie haircut walks up to me and interrupts any further conversation with Ali. She�s dressed in a pair of jeans and plaid shirt and could be generously called hefty, though she moves her weight with grace and carries the giant hammer over her shoulder with ease. The Status bar over her head reads Melissa O�Keefe, Level 38 Protector. �I�m Melissa.�

�John,� I take the proffered hand and watch as a crowd begins to gather, coming from the gas station and the office building, consisting mostly of children and teenagers. �This place is� impressive.�

�Thanks. If you don�t mind, there are a few people who�d like to talk to you,� Melissa says and waves me to the Tagish First Nation�s offices. I park Sabre there once I can and after a moment�s hesitation grab the rifle from its holster on the bike. Looks like everyone is armed in this town.

The meeting hall is buzzing, people moving with purpose. Random snatches of conversation that I overhear give a sense of organisation, of people working towards a common goal, something that was missing in Whitehorse. Surprisingly, I notice that everyone here has a few levels, a vast change from the majority in Whitehorse. I don�t get to linger though as I�m directed towards a boardroom where three others await � a gaunt, tall teenage Wizard, a matronly First Nation Shaman elder and a local member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) still in his uniform.

The last makes me pause, a part of me wondering about the lack of RCMP members in Whitehorse. I�d have thought they�d be in the front-lines of this. I frown, and then push the thought aside. Something to look into when I�m back if I really was that curious. In the meantime, introductions seem to have been made for me, but I�ve missed it. Ah well, not as if I need to remember their names, what with Ali providing their Status bars. Interestingly enough, the kid is the highest level at 36, the constable is a level 34 Guardian and the elder only a level 8 Shaman.

�So Mr Lee, you came from Whitehorse,� Constable Mike Gadsby says, his heavy Francophone accent taking me a moment to decipher. �Can you tell us about the state of the city? We have had no word.�

I nod and settle into a chair, getting ready for a long talk. We start out with Whitehorse and then I get a briefing on Carcross before we range back to the System. Once they realise I�m a fount of information, the kid takes over the conversation, sending probing and insightful questions my way. More than once Ali has to provide me with the answers to questions that the kid raises.

When the first message came, quite a few of the residents of Carcross had congregated at the RCMP�s office. That meant that when monsters spawned, there was much less ground to cover, allowing the RCMP to organise and protect them. In the meantime, it seemed the kid - Jason Cope - had convinced his Mum, Ms O�Keefe that he knew what he was talking about and then dragged her along on a monster hunt to �power-level� themselves, picking on the various lower leveled monsters that cropped up. Working together with their neighbors, they quickly managed to not only level but work out the party system and proceed to sweep the surroundings repeatedly, keeping the residents safe and gaining experience constantly. When an initial monster horde had rushed the crowd, it was only the timely intervention by the O�Keefe�s that managed to keep the casualties to the minimum.

In the meantime, I learnt about the Party System in more detail. Seems it was both obvious and annoying, much like most of the System. I could make a party at any time with anyone I wanted, though I could only have one party. A party shared experience to some extent, but only if party members actively helped during a fight. The actual division of experience varied depending on the contribution offered and included damage done, healing or buffs provided or just general support. It seemed that disparate levels in the party meant that people gained experience in different ways and the System actually registered groups that moved together as unofficial Parties whether we wanted it to or not.

In addition, the other thing I picked up was that it was quite viable to increase levels outside of fighting if you were a non-fighter based class. Leveling in those cases focused on the development of their class skills, with increases in class skills providing experience that then increased their overall Levels. In addition, it seemed non-fighter characters seemed to gain Quests at a much faster rate which were mostly focused on developing those skills. It was one of the reasons for the levels I had seen as everyone worked on developing their skills and completing quests in Carcross to grow stronger. They had people working on the various Loot drops right now, making makeshift armor, weapons and even cooking using the materials. Amazingly enough, bodies that were worked by the proper Class could even generate additional materials over and above what the System gave. While they couldn�t keep the city itself safe from random spawning, everyone had leveled up enough that your average monster mutation was less of a danger.

We talk for hours; the ubiquitous meat stew and bannock being brought in while we continue the conversation. They probe me for more information continuously, pausing only when they learn of my time in Haines Junction to relay the news of the tragedy. By the time they�ve finished pumping me, it�s past midnight and darkness has finally fallen. I�m offered a place to stay which I take gratefully, happy to let someone else keep an eye out for potential trouble while I rest.

Chapter 10

�Interesting,� I look around the automotive shop that�s been turned into a community workshop, various residents already hard at work at their respective stations this early in the morning. I�m sipping on the coffee that�s been offered to me, eyeing what the crafters are up to. 4 of the workbenches seem to be devoted to armor making, 2 working on various insect carapaces and another 2 on leather. Another pair of benches seem to be creating makeshift melee weapons while the last is the most interesting, a broken-down energy rifle laid out next to a normal gunpowder rifle. Soldering irons and electronic equipment are laid out next to it.

�That�s mine,� Perry, my guide, waves to the bench I�m eyeing. �I�ve been focused on trying to replicate their laser guns, but haven�t had any luck. Got a level in Energy Weapons at least when I took it apart.�

Ali snorts floating above the disassembled weapon, �It�s like watching a monkey try to build a spaceship with a stick.�

�You probably need a few more levels,� I reply diplomatically. I�m still impressed, all things considered, and I shake Perry�s hand as I take my leave.

�Good. You�re still here,� Jason runs up to me, his gangly frame doing the weirdest run I�ve ever seen. He must have dumped all his stats into Willpower and Intelligence, he definitely isn�t doing anything for his Agility. Behind him, moving much slower is Gadsby who looks like he could use a couple more cups of coffee.

�Long night?� I enquire.

�Rough. We had another breakthrough � lost a couple more to a spiked creature that rolled right over our trenches,� Gadsby replies, grimacing. �It�s why we need to talk to you. We need to visit this Shop of yours. We need to make this a Safe zone, get better weapons and supplies.�

I feel a flash of guilt at that, remembering the weapons and armor I took off the Orcs. I pause for a second, a selfish, small ignoble part of me not wanting to give them the guns. I need money for better weapons, for better defenses, to fix Sabre for myself if I want to continue this stupidity of running around outside of town. Unfortunately, so do they.

�Nope. No way, not happening,� Ali floats in front of me and stares me in my face. �First rule of the System � no one gets anything for free.�

�People are going to die if we don�t help them,� I think back.

�I�ll deal with this you bleeding heart Qwixly,� Ali spins around and waves. �Alright you crazy humans. My man here picked up a few guns, some armor and some ant carapaces that you fashionable humans could easily use.�

�What the hell!� Gadsby pulls out a gun, pointing it at Ali and Jason just stands there staring before blurting out. �It�s a fairy!�

�Fuck you. Price just went up. I�m no fairy,� Ali glares at Jason, ignoring the gun completely.

After that start, Gadsby and Ali get down to haggling. Jason, on the other hand, pulls me aside to get a debrief on Ali, which I refuse to elaborate upon beyond the basics of the System. After a moment, I realise the two hagglers aren�t going to stop their haggling anytime soon.

�You mentioned that you send sweeper units to deal with the monsters out there?� I enquire of Jason, absently pulling out a chocolate bar from my inventory and breaking off a piece. I sigh and toss the other half to a kid that has magically appeared next to me, eyes wide.

�Yeah, why?� Jason frowns, moving to adjust his glasses which he no longer wears. He paws at his face for a moment before giving up.

�I�m not in the mood to listen to those two. I�d rather go kill something,� I answer and walk over to a corner, dumping out the weaponry and armour from my inventory. Once done, I repeat, �Let�s go.�

Jason blinks and then looks over to the two, �I�m not really supposed to go past the barrier without my mum or Gadsby.�

I just look at him, letting the teenager hear what he just said. After a moment, he grins wide. �Yeah, let�s do it.�

Four hours later, we�re back for lunch, chatting happily. Hunting without Sabre and Ali is an interesting experience, one that makes me glad for my advantages. Once outside the barrier, Jason starts sneaking and I follow his lead. Most of the time, we spend hunting for trouble to get into and twice, he moves away from a fight. In reflection, I think we could have taken them but with no armor and no backup, our margin of error is much thinner. When we do attack, it�s from hiding and with overwhelming force, working to kill the creatures as quickly as and efficiently as possible. It�s also my first experience with a formal party and being able to watch Jason�s mana pool go down while he casts spells is quite an interesting experience. I kind of have to say though, I�m truly jealous at the ease that he wields his magic, changing from homing darts of blue energy to ice blasts and ivy chains without a thought. Of course, I could do without the waving hands and twisting fingers, but everyone has their own process. Truth be told, out there, he does most of the damage and I�m just there part of the mop-up operation.

The moment we cross the barrier, we run into the fiercest resistance yet � Ms O�Keefe. I idly note that at least a few of the guards have acquired new weapons that look very familiar.

�Young man, where were you?� she stands there, tapping her foot with one hand casually on the hammer. I call a tactical retreat, waving goodbye to them both and making sure not to meet Ms. O�Keefe�s eyes as I head for the restaurant where lunch is being served, ignoring the beseeching looks for support sent my way.

Ali floats back up to me soon after, glowing from having a good haggling session it seems; �Alright, we traded the guns and armor for 10,000 credits on an IOU basis. They need to keep what credits they have, so we got a better deal. I figure we can collect it in a month if they survive.

�Also, you�re going to take the old lady with you into Whitehorse and carry whatever you can of their loot in your inventory. We help them buy and sell and cart her back here too.�

Quest Received � Help Carcross

Help Carcross make their first successful visit to the Shop in Whitehorse. You will need to get Elder Andrea Badger to Whitehorse and back.

Reward: 2,000 XP

Nice. Maybe I should let him talk more. �When?�

�Right after you finish stuffing your face,� Ali says.

The ride in is surprisingly comfortable and quiet. I don�t slow down, not for anything and Ali keeps us informed of any potential problems so I know when to really speed up. Elder Badger just laughs when we do speed up, obviously the old woman enjoys going fast. I don�t tell her of the dangers Ali informs me of, but I can feel my shoulders relax, my grip loosens slightly when we finally get within the lower zone around Whitehorse again. Some of the monsters that prowled the mountains and forests would not have been fun to fight.

In Whitehorse, I slow down for safety�s sake and for the elder to take it in. Not much seems to have changed from a few days ago, with only guards and the occasional hunters moving around other than in the Safe Zones. It is a stark contrast and again, I wonder what the major differences is. It almost seems that not having a safe zone forced the people of Carcross to step-up, forced them to either face the challenge or die.

Dropping Ali and the Elder at the city centre, I decline to join them. Ali has full access to my inventory in the Shop, so there�s no point in going in directly. Instead, I ride the elevator to see Roxley himself to turn in my quest. Interestingly enough, Ali still can�t provide any further information even with his higher level. I guess we�re still not up to snuff.

�So, there�s a settlement of humans in this Carcross numbering hundreds. But you only brought back one � who isn�t even going to stay. Is that right?� Lord Roxley stares at me with those soulful black eyes under long delicate eyelashes.

�Yes.�

�And you wish to be rewarded for this,� Roxley continues and I admire the way his lips twist as he speaks, the barest hint of a smile on the lips. �Even if your quest is for bringing survivors back to my city?�

�Mmmm� yes?� I pause, seeing his point.

�Well, I really can�t do that,� Roxley shrugs shoulders that are surprisingly broad for such a willowy frame, muscles rippling beneath his silver and black tunic.

I shoot him a rather pitiful glare, one lacking any real heat. He is right after all � the citizens of Carcross aren�t actually contributing to his city. Not that the citizens of Whitehorse are contributing either, but that�s a different thing entirely. Still� �I�m sure this information is worth something. And eventually, some might come.�

�Eventually is not now,� Roxley picks up a glass, sipping on it and adds, �Did you Level Up while you were gone? You seem� broader.�

�Yes, thank you,� I answer back, wondering if he�s going to offer me a drink again.

�Well, I can�t really reward you for the citizens you didn�t bring back, but the information is valuable�� Roxley runs a finger along the edge of the glass before smiling. �Yes, this will do.�

Quest Completed!

Bring News of the Survivors

Reward: 2,000 XP and 1,000 Credits

Roxley watches me for a moment before realising I�m not leveling up and then he flicks his hand, dismissing me. I shrug and head off, the Credits better than nothing.

Now what? A quick stop in the Shop shows that Ali and the Elder are really going at it, so I leave to head out. When I walk out, I see Sabre and realise that someone needs some loving. Right, Ali mentioned there was an Armourer in town. Let�s see what they can do about poor old Sabre then. I follow the small map in my helmet to the building and stare at it, frowning. It looks like your typical concrete and metal warehouse, no different than any other building in the industrial park. Well, no different except for the sign out front saying �Don�t shoot the proprietor�.

I walk in, wondering what the sign is about. I tape the button, withdrawing the helmet back and walk into the building. I look around for a moment, eyes adjusting to the darkness and then I pull my sword, jumping a good foot back as I choke back a scream.

I�m not scared of giant spiders. I�m not scared of giant spiders. I�m not scared of giant spiders. Squatting in a web that crosses above a workshop counter in front of me, a giant black and gold spider sits chittering and working on a dismantled energy pistol. The spider looks up as I wave my sword around and for a moment, seems to even sigh; �Please put sword down.�

I inhale and then exhale again before finally making the blade disappear. Right. That�s what the sign was for. �Sorry! Sorry!�

�No shot. Good. All good. You work?� the creature chitters and sets down the pieces its been working on.

�Yes. I have a damaged Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle that needs fixing,� I mutter, staring at the creature. My feelings slowly start to settle, adrenaline dropping as my instinctive response slowly subsides. Right, giant spider can talk and is sentient and is the mechanic.

�I open. Bring in. I look,� the spider chitters.

Damn, without Ali around, I can�t read its name. �Sure.�

When Sabre is rolled in, the spider flows out from its web and begins to crawl around, chittering to itself and poking at damage areas. It twists to me halfway and at its prodding, I engage the transformation sequence. Ten minutes later, it comes to get me.

�Damaged. Not bad. Superficial mostly. Some electrical. 5 hours. 2,700 Credits,� the spider chitters and I shiver.

�Ummm�� I stare at it, realising I�m out of moves. I have no idea if he (it?) is quoting high or low, though if it�s a mechanic, then it�s probably on the higher end. So, umm� �That seems high.�

The creature chitters and I swear, it�s laughing at me. �2,700 Credits I fix. System fix, more.�

�Fine. Fix it,� I grumble.

The creature flicks a bunch of things in the air and then a moment later, a text window shows up confirming our agreement. Easy come, easy go.

Time to find something else to do then. 4 hours� there was another building wasn�t there? An alchemist? I just hope it�s not another giant insect creature staffing it.

It takes me nearly half an hour to walk back to Main St. which makes me think I should really plan my trips without my bike better. Still, the alchemist shop is much closer to what I�d expect even if it is set in the middle of Whitehorse�s quaint, 1960s strip of shops.

�Welcome!�

The chipper greeting makes me smile and look for the greeter. It takes me a moment to find her. �Hi there.�

�Oooh, can I try that again? Welcome to Sally�s Alchemical and Magical Emporium,� the gnome, because really, that�s what she looks like announces. 4 feet tall, bright purple hair that comes all the way down to her tiny, shapely ass and clad in a smock, Sally bounces with pent up energy. �Was that better?�

�Yeah, better.� I can�t help but return her smile, looking around the insides. The shop is filled with rows upon rows of potions and bottled ingredients, a weird mixture of a spice shop and liquor dispensary. �So, what do you sell?�

�Alchemical and magical ingredients galore. If you name it, I have it. Well, except for Tier I, II and III ingredients right now, and I�m missing some Tier III ingredients too for strength potions, but otherwise, I got it all!� Sally nods emphatically, waving her hands around.

I ponder what I recall of magical potions and give a shot, �So, you have some health potions?�

She nods emphatically, walking over to a corner and pointing at an array of bottles. The first shelf consists of bottles in different tints of orange, the second in purple and the third in blue. �They are all Tier III to V. I even have a few Tier II potions, but those aren�t on display.�

Seeing my hesitation, Sally smiles and continues on, �I bet you haven�t seen these before have you. These are potion regeneration, body regeneration and straight healing potions in order. The first heals using the ingredients inherent in the potion itself, the second boosts the recovery rate of your body and uses your body�s physical resources. The last and most expensive tap into ambient mana and the System to generate direct healing of your body, much like a healing spell.�

Beneath each potion, the credit costs display. The cheapest starts at 50 for the body recovery potions and rise from there, going up to a staggering 2000 credits. Considering these are consumables, I can see my Credits burning through at an astronomical rate. And these aren�t even the good stuff �How much do they heal?�

Sally pauses and then admits, �I�m not entirely sure for the regeneration potions. I haven�t had any human customers yet, so the effects might vary. The potion regenerators should be anywhere from 20 to 50 health for the lower end. The body regenerators have always been dependent on the individual, but should be between 2-4% increase on the low-end again. As for the System Health Potions, well, those are regulated and will heal you a minimum of 25 and increase in increments of 25 per size and tier.�

I might not be Ali, but I can sniff out a deal myself, �So, you need a guinea pig don�t you.�

Sally�s eyes widen and then a playful grin crosses her face, �Well, that depends. I�m sure those Raven Circle humans would be happy to work with me too.�

Unlike Ali, I don�t live for the haggling, but I do well enough to get a bottle of each of the potions for only 50 credits. Of course, I have to promise to actually use it within the next day and report back, but I don�t expect that to be a problem.

Soon afterwards, Ali and the Elder make their way out of the Shop with the Elder heading off to speak with some others at the school. I escort her most of the way there but not before she drags a promise for me to pick her up the next morning. Seems like she has a lot to discuss. After that, Ali and I take a walk back to grab Sabre, stopping long enough at the river to get in some target practice before we pick her up and head home. I also learn the mechanic�s name at the same time, though I can�t even attempt to speak it. We settle on Xev.

What a strange couple of days I can�t help but think as I drive home. It certainly turned out so differently from what I had expected or planned for. Then again, at least it provided sufficient distraction.

My head twists slightly as the slap comes in, moving in what seems to be slow motion. I turn to let the blow slide along my face, cheek feeling just the lightest of brushes as Lana clutches her hand. �What the hell! Are you made out of rocks?�

�I�m sorry. Didn�t realise not showing up was a problem,� I say, smiling slightly at the buxom redhead. Good lord, where the hell did she find that fragrance? I rub at my nose covertly, trying to get rid of it. She smells divine but that�s so not the right thing to be thinking as she glowers at me.

She shakes her head, �Don�t you dare disappear again.�

I raise an eyebrow at her, a part of me wondering when I managed to get myself a wife before I speak, �Yeah, sorry. I�ll make sure to leave a note next time I head out. I just figured that I should take a look for some more survivors since I have the only working bike.�

Gorgeous blue eyes narrow at my words and then she draws a deep breath, taking visible control of her emotions. She rubs at her eyes, head down before she speaks, �It was a good idea, John, it�s just��

�Yeah,� I hesitantly reach out and give her a hug before looking around the empty house. �It�s late, isn�t it? Where�s Mikito and your brother?�

�Out,� replies Lana, waving her out to where the school is. �Seems like the hunters are busy bonding.�

I nod at her words then grin, �Got a gift for you. Come on.�

In the kitchen, I pull up my inventory and note that Ali�s swapped out the food stores from the Hakarta for human appropriate ready-meals. Good � I wasn�t entirely sure I was ready to try eating whatever it was that the Hakarta ate. I pull the stove out and lay it on the counter with a flourish, spoiled only by the confusion on Lana�s face.

�It�s a stove that is fueled by mana,� I explain.

At that, she grins and hurries over to poke and prod at it. I say my goodbyes, wanting to get washed up. In my suite, I find myself standing in front of the bathroom half-naked by sheer habit. Gah! It is a chilly day today, barely above 5 Celsius. I have no desire to go outside and take a bath from the rain barrel but even I can smell myself.

Well, I do have some money�

89 Alsek Rd. (Residence)

Current Ownership: John Lee, Adventurer

Current Occupants: 4

Upgrades: None

I concentrate on the Upgrades, curious to see what is available:

Upgrades Available

Grounds

Structure

Add-On Buildings

A quick perusal shows that add-on buildings, even the existing workshop is well out of my price range. Grounds are particularly interesting, especially the ability to add some much-needed security options like a wall. On the other hand, if we can make the entire city a safe zone, I wouldn�t have to worry about the occasional random spawning or mutation. Upgrading the Grounds would also mean I have to worry less about the mess the dogs are making of the front lawn as they guard the house. Lastly, I�d really, really like to get something a bit more interesting than a stone wall � those force fields mentioned in here would be amazing.

After playing with the other options, I pull the one that I�m most interested in.

Structural Upgrades Available for 89 Alsek Rd.

Security

Structural

Utilities

D�cor

Miscellaneous

I�d love to look at Security a bit more, I�m sure there�re fun things to have but funds are limited and Utilities make more sense. I pull it up and after scanning the information available find what I want. An atmospheric hydro generation machine that connects directly to our existing plumbing, providing both drinkable water and showers. Cheap too at less than 2,000 Credits after I add the upgrades to make it possible to produce hot water.

Nothing seems to happen after I confirm the prompt and for a moment, I wonder if nothing actually happened. A quick check shows that the upgrade is there, but then I notice the rather annoying notation that the generator would need a few hours to fill the tanks.

Well, that sucks.

I sigh and head back upstairs, holding my towel and rifle in one hand. Cold bath it is. In the kitchen, Lana is hard at work making a meal and I pause long enough to let her know about the recent changes. She stops chopping up her vegetables, staring at me in silence and I have to repeat what I say before she acknowledges it. Guess she was concentrating pretty hard on finishing dinner.

Cold. The water in the rain barrel is cold. I shiver, toweling off quickly and glad that this is my last cold bath. When I get inside, towel wrapped around my waist, Lana calls me over before I can get dressed.

�One second, let me get dressed,� I reply but she snorts and waves me over.

�Food�s ready now. Just sit down. I have something to talk to you about,� Lana gestures to the table and after a moment�s hesitation, I comply. The lady can cook after all. Whatever she has to say, it gets set aside as we delve a bit deeper into what I was up to, Lana asking a few probing questions about Carcross and the fort.

�That�s pretty interesting.� She smiles slightly, turning her glass of plain water in hand as she peers at me over its rim. �It seems they�ve gone down a more community model of development, where everyone is working together.� At my nod, she continues; �Won�t work here though. Too many people.�

I raise an eyebrow and she waves her hand, speaking; �Barter and community systems like that break down over time due to the lack of personal bonds between all participants. It�s fine when the community is small, but in a larger community, there is nothing to stop free riders from derailing the system.�

Seeing my raised eyebrow, Lana explains, �Business major with a minor in Economics. Richard dealt with customers, I dealt with the books. We both took care of the dogs of course.�

�Doesn�t explain why people aren�t doing anything though,� I grumble as I remember the large swaths of people just sitting around the schools.

�They are, you just don�t see it,� Lana explains and then shrugs. �What we have is a lot of manpower, but no resources. Most of what we had before doesn�t work and though some have Skills, they don�t have the tools or resources to actually do anything. The only people with any Credits are the hunters and most of their money is being devoted to upgrading weapons and themselves.�

I grunt, acknowledging her point, �Kind of hard not to, what with death being the alternative if you are one of the hunters.�

�Oh, it�s understandable but it�s not true for all,� she points to the sink and continues. �You just spent what? A few thousand Credits on getting hot water? What if you had used that money to buy a basic toolkit and passed on some of the materials like those Ant carapaces? They�d be able to start training their skills just like Carcross.�

I grimace, wondering what it is with people making me feel like a selfish idiot. I risked my life for the guns, for the Credits. Shouldn�t I deserve something for it? Still, I hadn�t even thought about her point either.

�Nope. Not happening toots,� Ali focuses and begins visible, floating next to me. Lana reacts poorly, screaming and falling off her chair to which Ali giggles a bit over. It takes a few minutes to get her to calm down and to explain who he is before we can return to the conversation.

�It�s all puppy dogs and rainbows, but we�re not giving away shit for free. First rule of living in the System, it�s all about me,� Ali waggles a finger at her.

�Did I say anything about charity? It doesn�t work, not in the long run,� Lana replies bitingly, glaring back at the foot and a half tall brown man.

�So what are you thinking?� Ali says.

�Microloans,� Lana replies promptly.

�Ooooh� I like you. John, keep this one. She�s got great tits and a brain!�

I roll my eyes at that and Lana, after realising that she can�t actually hit the Spirit, starts expounding on her point. I check out at that point, going to get dressed. I did not survive the Apocalypse to listen to economic theory or whatever the heck they are discussing now. I�d rather watch paint dry.

Problem is, staring around my suite I realise I�m at the same point as I was before I left. Not a lot to do these days and I can feel the edges of my emotions, my worries worrying at me. I should really spend some time, think and feel. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to open the boxes and realise that I don�t really know where to start. I shut the boxes tight, but it�s not as if I have a key, that I can just switch off the blocking and it comes back to me. I prod at it cautiously and realise I�m not sure how to do this, not without tearing the entire thing down and I can�t, won�t, do that. Too much, too fast.

I flex my hands, staring into space and then take a deep breath, exhaling. Alright, find something to do.

Outside in the backyard, I shoo the dogs aside and begin. It�s strange trying to practise a fighting form that doesn�t really require you to hold on to a sword. It�s entirely different from the memories and skills I�ve purchased from the Shop, so much so that the forms that I practise don�t really seem appropriate. Without an enemy to work with, it seems strange to attempt to swing the sword and make it disappear and appear at unseen enemies. Eventually, I settle on splitting my practise in two parts � firstly, on recreating one of the fights of an actual Erethan Honor Guard to mimic as a form and secondly, on practising calling forth the weapon and making it disappear at speed, switching hands as I do so.

When Ali and Lana are done, they come to the backyard and Ali just starts laughing while Lana has the grace to at least attempt to hide her giggles. I know exactly what I look like, a crazed man spinning and swinging around his hands, only occasionally catching and grabbing the weapon that appears out of thin air. Calling a soulbound weapon into being when still is easy. However, calling a weapon requires me to specify the exact location and it can only be within a certain distance from my body so I have to understand not only where my hand is going to be but how long it�ll take for the sword to appear. Add the fact that I can start moving in all 3 directions and things start getting complicated.

Overall, it�s been a frustrating couple of hours so when Ali asks to speak with me alone, I�m more than happy to comply. Rather than elaborate on what he and Lana were cooking up, other than the fact that he�d be using some of my Credits, he instead wants to talk about magic.

�We�re level 10 now. That means I can share my Elemental Affinity with you, if you�d like to learn it,� Ali speaks, hesitant for once.

�More magic? Of course!� I grin, dismissing the sword and looking excitedly at Ali. Nice. I�ve been wanting to get a new spell from the Shop, but this would be even better.

�An elemental affinity,� corrects Ali.

�What�s the difference?� I ask him, eager to learn and a bit annoyed at the pedantry.

�Magic as you currently wield it is just using Mana to have the System create the effect for you. That�s why you had to get Mana Manipulation before you could learn your healing spell. Each spell is like a ready meal and the Mana you put into it is the energy you need to cook it,� Ali says.

�Yeah, still not seeing the difference.�

�If you�d just shut up for a moment,� Ali says and then continues, �Using Mana isn�t the only way to use magic though. Spirits like myself are made of the elements, the forces that dictate the world. It�s like gravity � just because there�s a spell that can affect gravity doesn�t mean there wasn�t gravity before the System came along. An Elemental Affinity means you have a connection, an access point to manipulate that element directly without learning spells. You don�t need to use Mana anymore to do it, though most do.�

I raise an eyebrow at the last and Ali shrugs, �It�s easier. Imposing your will on the elements directly is like shifting a car with your bare hands. You can do it if you�re strong enough, but isn�t it easier to just use a lever? Mana is the lever in this case.�

�Okay. Sounds great. Let�s do it,� I continue on, wondering what is up with him.

�Chill John. Not all Elements work well with others and creating an affinity with one element might mean you lose access to others. Maybe all of them if the conflict is too great. And there�s no way to tell for sure,� Ali explains. �It really depends on the individual.�

�What�s your affinity?�

�Electromagnetic force.�

�Umm�� I pause, staring at Ali. Well, electricity then � which explains Ali�s preference for energy weapons and his coveralls. Still, �Lightning?�

Ali rolls his eyes at that, just giving up and walking away with his hands in the air shouting, �God damn corporeals. I say electromagnetic force and. Every. Single. Time. It�s Lightning Bolts or Electric Shocks. Get some fucking education.�

I blink, watching the Spirit walk away and then just disappear. I scratch my head, wondering what the hell has gotten into him. Fuck. Well, that ended just dandy. I sigh, staring at the sky and then stretch, walking back to the gardens.

Fine. Fuck him. I�ll just keep training then.

Chapter 11

The next morning, I�m up well before Lana. At Ali�s insistence, we head out to �get some mats� for Lana in the surrounding low-level region. Clad in Sabre, running and bouncing through the woods at Ali�s directions against these low-level animals is actually quite relaxing. None of them can actually do damage to me inside my armor so I can practise my burgeoning style to my hearts contents.

The guards at F.H. Collins are rather surprised when I start bringing back my kills, dropping off the various mutated animals for the cookpot. Ground squirrels, a couple of wolverines, various hares, a pair of foxes, marmots and shrews are all the recognisable animals, even if they are at the minimum the size of a big dog. Then there are groups of creatures that I�ve never seen before, creatures with 3 legs or 7, with a dozen eyes or none, furred, scaled, sometimes both or with carapaces. Interestingly enough, I begin to notice that the plants are beginning to transform too, growing thicker and wider as well as adding defenses to protect themselves. Even our usual pines mutate, the sap becoming thicker and stickier � I found one particularly unlucky hare stuck to a pine, unable to move with the sap beginning to congeal around it and liquefy its flesh. Seems like the peaceful, easy going hikes of pre-System life are gone.

On my last trip in a female guard walks up to me. Tall, wide, with dirty blonde hair, she could easily be put in a pioneer dress and get away with it and clomps her way to me to prove it. She gives off the vibe of tough competence and the remainder of her RCMP uniform speaks of previous experience. That and her Level of 14.

�Thank you. This is going to help a lot. Though I�m not sure that�s edible,� Amelia Olmstead gestures to the most recent carcass that I have dropped off. It�s spiky and a lurid blue and missing its claws and seems to have a weird rubbery thing around its face for its eyes.

�It should be,� I glance at Ali who gives a nod back. �Seems like the System makes sure that most animals are now edible to each other. If you avoid the poison sacs � and I�ve got those out already.�

Amelia falls silent digesting the information. I take the chance to ask something that�s been bugging me, �So, what happened to the emergency services personnel? You�re the first RCMP member I�ve seen in Whitehorse.�

Her eyes darken at that and she looks down, her words a whisper; �Most of the others are dead. There was a monster a few days after it started, this rock thing. We tried to kill it, but guns didn�t hurt it much and hitting it just didn�t do anything. We� I� � she stops, forcing back a sob.

I bite my lip and put a hand on her shoulder for a moment and she doesn�t push it away, shivering before she looks up at me, eyes filled with unshed tears. �I hate this world.�

�Don�t we all,� I agree with her, though a part of me wonders. It�s kind of been fun, especially the fighting. At least when I�m fighting, I don�t have to think and there�s a thrill to it, a rush that makes me feel well and truly alive.

Amelia smiles at me again, pulling away from my arm and then bends down, grabbing the blue creature by its tail and hefting it. �Thank you again.�

I nod and watch her walk off for a moment before heading back to the house to enjoy the luxury of a warm shower. Ali goes to Lana�s room to �report on our excursion� but the glint in his eye makes me think he has other motivations. I consider going after him, only to deal with him of course, but I dismiss the idea after a moment. It�s not as if he can�t go spy on her when I�m asleep either after all. Seriously, how can a sexless spirit be such a pervert?

Shower done, it�s time for me to meditate again. No skipping more than one day of this, otherwise, I�m sure I�m going to have problems. Strange that such a simple thing is so important to my stability. I spend over an hour, sitting and breathing and find that by the time I�m done, Lana has left with my materials and nearly all my Credits.

�You know, I�m not entirely comfortable with this taking my stuff without my permission thing you�ve got going on here,� I eye Ali and he snorts, waggling his finger at me.

�Spirit companion. Can�t do anything that could harm you,� he reminds me.

�Yeah, I recall an Ant. And a bee. And that weird plant thing,� I reply.

�The first two were for your own good. You needed to level,� Ali points out.

�And the last?�

�It was hilarious?� Ali grins and then holds his hand up horizontally, waggling it side to side. �Rules are a little shaky on non-lethal amusements.�

I stare at him, not sure if he�s joking or just telling the truth. I sigh after a moment, rolling my eyes and head out after finishing the meal Lana set aside for me. Time to finish my escort quest and make some more money. It seems some things hold true - money or Credits, they never last long.

Unfortunately, my plan of a nice and easy ride back followed by more hunting is interrupted by that annoying thing called humans. In this case, it�s Jim with my escort standing together waiting. At their insistence, I�m brought into another boardroom to have a chat. Really. Boardrooms? More of them?

When I get in, there is quite a bit of a crowd. There are Jim and Badger � sorry, no laughing, it�s a traditional name � sitting together on the left and in the center, a cluster of six boomers, four men and two women arrayed facing the door and me. In addition, both Richard and Mikito are here along with Nicodemus and that woman clustered together on the right with some of the other hunters. Interesting, the fact that all the boomers have a non-combat class with class levels ranging from a level 8 Minion to a level 12 Dealmaker.

�Mr Lee, thank you for coming. We understand you�ve been very busy and we were hoping we could have some words with you about your recent actions,� the man in the middle, slimy and overweight breaks the silence. Mr Slimy and overweight looks really familiar�

�You�re the ex-Mayor right?�

�I am the duly-elected Mayor of Whitehorse, yes;� Fred Curteneau says, leaning forwards with a smile on his face that makes me need another bath. �The council and I would be grateful for any help you could provide.�

�Boy, this looks real fun doesn�t it?� Ali asks rhetorically to me as he yawns, lounging on a bean bag and floating next to me.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I spot Luthien smile at Fred�s words, absently running a finger along her cheek. Next to her, Nic just stays silent while I spot Mikito waggling her fingers at what is likely her Status Screen. At least someone�s getting some use out of this time.

�Of course,� I reply, deciding not to commit to anything. This isn�t going to be good either way, but let�s see how this plays out.

�Well, let�s start with your report on Haines Junction. I understand you informed one of the Raven Circle members that it has been destroyed entirely?�

�Yes. A group of Ogres had entered the town and killed all the residents,� I pause then continue, trying to tread lightly here. �They were killed off after that and I managed to bury what bodies I could find.�

�And you somehow gained access to the Shop in Haines Junction and purchased a working motorcycle at that time,� short and florid next to the Mayor whines.

�Yes,� my eyes narrow at the unsubtle accusation.

�How� convenient,� shorty continues to whine. I ignore his name for now though I wonder why anyone would take the class �Minion�. If they don�t want to introduce themselves, that�s fine. I�ll give them a name myself.

�It was, wasn�t it?� within me, I can feel a little bit of anger pulsing through me, attempting to escape the restrictions I�ve placed on it and my other emotions. Anger � the one emotion I always had trouble handling. Love, compassion, sadness, I could always contain those. Anger somehow had a way of bubbling up, escaping, drowning me in it. Perhaps as another ex had pointed out, I just had too much anger to contain.

�Elder Badger says you�re quite knowledgeable about the System that�s imposed itself on us. That you have a short fairy friend that aids you?� the Mayor continues and I nod slightly, grumbling mentally at Ali for making himself known. Not that he�d be hidden forever, but I really hadn�t wanted him to show himself immediately. �Could you elaborate on that?�

I pause, considering my options for a moment and then shrug, �I managed to acquire a Level 1 System Spirit Companion very soon after all this started. He�s sort of like a giant help desk with a personality. Of course, most of what he�s told me is covered in Thrasher�s Guide in the Shop.�

At my side Ali snorts, flicking his hand.

Skill Acquired

Dissembling (Level 1)

The truth is such a bendable thing in your hands.

The Mayor nods at my words and there�s some quick discussion about the revelation of the guide with a single pointed question letting them know how much it costs. I�d send them the Guide myself but I�m restricted. On the other hand, 50 Credits isn�t that hard to get especially if the Hunters pooled their resources. Christ on a pogo stick, what have they been up to?

Minion looks like he�s eaten a lemon, his face all screwed up as he speaks, �Show us this fairy.�

�Mmmm� unfortunately, my spirit companion is an independent entity. I can�t make him do what he doesn�t want,� I shrug and glance to where Ali laughs at my description of him.

�So you have little control over your companion,� Minion sneers.

�More or less,� I can feel my lips pulling into a smile, one that holds no humor in it. To my side, I can Luthien begin whispering to Nic. She knows what that smile means.

�Mr. Lee, would you tell us about your interactions with Lord Roxley?� Fred takes control of the discussion again, dismissing the other thread of enquiry.

�I�ve seen him twice. He gave me a quest to find other survivors the first time and the second, I went to complete part of a quest by informing him of Carcross,� I reply, watching their reactions.

�You let that invader know about Carcross?� this time, a grey-haired, flower wearing old woman hisses at me. �Why would you do that?�

�Quest.�

�You betrayed us for a quest!?!� she leans forward, glaring at me and I decide to call her Battleaxe. Minion is nodding in agreement, joining the glares while the rest of the group stay silent. Interestingly enough, Ms. Badger doesn�t seem as concerned.

�Betrayed? I didn�t realise there were sides,� I snap back, then draw a breath trying to push the anger down.

�He invaded us, stole our town and declared that he owns it!� she smacks her hand down on the table, half-standing now as she snarls. �He�s an invader. He took our lands! How can there not be sides!�

�He�s also the one who bought the schools and has been sending his guards to deal with the nastier monsters. Seems he�s doing as much good as he has done bad,� I point out.

Battleaxe is about to start shouting when Fred cuts her off. �Miranda, not now. This is a discussion for later. Mr. Lee, we�d like it if you perhaps worked with us, perhaps reporting in on your activities? We didn�t know about Carcross until Elder Badger herself walked in.�

Struck by a thought, I look up to my companion, �Ali, why aren�t I getting a quest like you did with the Elder?�

�It�s a matter of importance, hierarchy and levels. If you don�t have a high enough level or status, the System only recognises quests that are important. Getting the Elder here and back? Important. Making reports on a daily basis? So not important to the System,� Ali replies.

While I listen to him, I pretty much ignore the group who are just glaring at me as I stare into space. I hear Fred clear his throat but I ignore him as I think about it. Importance� Okay, let�s see if we can actually get something out of this then, �Why should I?�

�We are the Council of Whitehorse, your government!� Minion barks, glaring at me.

�Yeah, and you guys do civic planning and ummm... whatever it is you did,� Alright, so I�m not actually all that knowledgeable about local government responsibilities. �I�m still asking why.�

�Young man, certainly you can see the advantages of working together in such a time. We humans need to stick together,� this time, it�s the other old lady speaking in an English accent. She�s very average, other than being in her 60s I�m not even sure I�d remember her if I saw her again so I mentally name her DA for Downtown Abbey.

�That still doesn�t say why you need me to report back,� I say.

�You are being very confrontational. It�s such a small thing�� DA continues to speak, taking the lead for the moment.

�He started it,� I point to Minion and he bristles.

�This is a waste of time,� snaps Minion and I widen my smile. Well, if I�m not getting a quest, we�re both in agreement there.

�Are you refusing to help us, Mr. Lee?� Fred speaks now, his voice growing stern.

�I�m refusing to dance without knowing the song,� I say.

�We cannot make plans without knowing the status of the world around us. You seem to have acquired transportation, are actively exploring the lands around us and have a knowledgeable companion. We just ask that you provide us information that might benefit the community when you come across it,� the Mayor snaps back.

Quest Received

Report the Council of Whitehorse any information of importance.

Rewards: XP Reward Varies

Accept: Y/N

I watch everyone around me jerk as I mentally accept the quest and they get their own notifications. A quick confirmation with Ali leads me to talk, drawing everyone�s attention; �Okay, lesson 1 then. Simply put, you guys can�t create quests unless it�s important. However, if you do designate an activity that is important enough, the System will generate the quest for you. This holds true until you guys level up. A lot.�

I leave out the part of hierarchy, no need to rub it in their face that they actually aren�t officially part of anything. At least, not as far as the System is concerned.

�Second thing, you want information? There�s a fort out at the Carcross Cutoff. Found a bunch of Space Orcs there wielding energy rifles. I�ve got control of the fort now, but it looks like forts can be created or designated all around the city as buildings of strategic importance. It�s also in a zone that�s significantly tougher than the surroundings, so I�d recommend not going there yet for the majority of you guys.� In the corner of my eye, I see Ali create ultra tiny pop-ups of XP rewards pop-up before making them disappear as I speak.

�Third? You guys need to get on the entire buying up buildings in Whitehorse. I�m not sure why Roxley isn�t buying more, but as residents, we get a discount. Buying a place makes it a safe zone as you guys probably know, but what you might not have realised is that if you get 80% of the buildings in the Whitehorse city zone claimed, the entire city becomes a safe zone.

�That what you�re thinking of for information?� I smile widely, knowing that it is.

�That� that will do,� the Mayor just blinks at the series of notification windows popping up in front of him as I get my quest rewards. I smirk mentally, noting how it has derailed the rest of their enquiry. Right, time to get out of here before they remember they had anything else to ask me. �Good. Ms. Badger, let�s go.�

I turn and start walking away before Luthien finally speaks up. �What are you planning to do John?�

�What I�ve always done isn�t it? Whatever the hell I want,� I shoot back and walk out.

�John�� Ali is floating beside me as I walk to Sabre, leaving Ms. Badger to catch up. Ah good old Chinese culture, not even able to think of her as Andrea in my mind since she�s an old person. �Not saying I�m a people-person, but what the hell?�

�I don�t like those guys,� I say.

�No shit.�

�They�re idiots. They want to start a fight that they can�t win with Roxley. Hell, they had the Shop from day 1 and could have gotten knowledge of the System pretty fucking easily, but they�re so affronted by Roxley that they refuse to talk to him or go into the Shop and use it properly. Luthien and her friends obviously know about it, but somehow, they haven�t mentioned shit. Or perhaps they haven�t been listening. They let Jim and his people run around not knowing about looting for over a week!

�They�re so fucking incompetent and then they fucking start accusing me of whatever the fuck it is they were accusing me of, they can go fuck themselves,� I can feel the frustration that�s been building up inside me want a release as I snarl out at Ali mentally, �I get it, we need to work together. They don�t have money to pay me, don�t have any resources and are desperate. They could have asked nicely, but they decided not to. So fuck them, I�ll be damned if I let them drag me into their petty games. My life, my rules. I�ll help them the way I want to and for the rest of it, they can fuck themselves.�

Ali backs off a bit as I bite his head off, a hand held out placatingly. I draw a deep breath, forcing some calm over me and hit the button on my helmet as the Elder comes out, hiding my face as I straddle Sabre. Time to get this shit done.

The ride back is held mostly in silence. This time around, my inventory isn�t stuffed to the gills with cheap materials, so I�m guessing the Elder hasn�t really done as much buying as I thought she would. Then again, I have no idea how many Credits she managed to get. We only stop once, pausing long enough in the fort for me to show it to her and switch ownership briefly to allow her to gain the experience before I take control again. She doesn�t protest when I do it, which is good. I�m not sure what I need a fort for, but I bled for it.

Back at Carcross, the moment I roll in, the quest completes.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 11 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 11 Free Attribute Points to distribute.

Finally. Unfortunately, from now on Level Up�s are going to slow down again with experience requirements for each level twice as much as previously. I�m still far behind most of the combatants in Whitehorse, at least in terms of absolute levels which is not surprising. From what we�ve worked out, it�ll take me roughly twice the amount of experience to go up a level compared to those who started with a Basic class.

The Elder heads into the Tagish Centre almost immediately, leaving me to sit on my bike in the middle of the road wondering what next. Beyond curt nods, no one pays attention to me. Everyone is obviously caught up in their own work and I realise, for all that I�ve done them a favour, I don�t belong here.

I feel a wry twist crossing my face, a half-remembered piece of advice coming to me - do good, but never expect gratitude. I give myself a mental shrug and turn the bike around, waving the guards to open the door. Right, there�s another town to check out anyway, just about 20 minutes down the road - Tagish. Ali tells me no one from Carcross has tried to make contact that far as they�ve needed to keep their fighters close on-hand. It�ll only take me a few minutes and if I find even a couple of survivors who want to head into Whitehorse, I�ll earn more Credits than hunting.

I take the Highway down, though really, it�s a 2-lane road that�s pitted and potted. The scenery is gorgeous and dramatic as usual, towering cliffs next to the road and straight drops with untouched forests and mountainous vistas in the distance, bisected by the glacial Tagish river that can be spotted once in a while. Occasional birds flap in the distance, some looking larger than normal and something that I can only describe as a short-nosed pterodactyl.

At Crag Lake, Ali starts telling me to slow down and I spot the group soon after. There are about a score or so humans walking together and eyeing the scenery for potential trouble, mostly adults with a small scattering of children. They look rough, beaten and scared and there is more than one injured among them. As I approach, the leaders in the front level guns at me and I stop a good distance away. It�s only when I drop my helmet and show my human face that they actually relax.

These are the survivors from Tagish, everyone that is left. They�ve left a trail of bodies behind them, those who never grouped up in time, those who died defending the group and the fallen from the initial monster attacks. The entire group looks like they would shatter in a stiff breeze and it�s only the insistence of the leaders that have kept them moving.

I channel my healing magic and do what I can for those that need healing, offering up the bike to the young to speed up the group as I walk. It�s not the best option for defense, but since Sabre can self-balance, it�s the fastest option. I keep my rifle with me as we make the trek to Carcross, my head swiveling for potential dangers as the occasional sob is choked off behind me.

It�s a strange thing, escorting such a large group on foot. The first time we are attacked, it�s by a spine monster which rises from the cliff face, its presence hidden by simple camouflage. It starts the ball rolling by firing spines into the group from its back, each spine over a foot long and dirt brown. We lose another human that time, a spine impaling her chest and heart. I�m wounded too in my shoulder from the initial barrage as I move to put myself in front of the kids on my bike, which means killing it was not the easiest with a single hand to maneuver my rifle. Luckily, the fact that I�m doing the most damage drags its attention to me so we spend a few minutes shooting at each other from the cover of rocks away from the main group. Damn but sneak attacks suck.

The second and third time, Ali warns us well in advance and I�m able to intercept the danger. The first is a crazed wolverine, so fast and vicious I end up having to fight it in close range since I couldn�t manage a killing shot at distance. As fast as the wolverine is, it doesn�t have a sword and lopping off its paws is sufficient to end the fight. The third time, I fight my first slime monster, a gelatinous greenish-purple creature that rolls along the forest floor leaving a trail of slimy destruction behind it and which sits at Level 42. It�s only Ali�s coaching on where to shoot that lets me defeat it � seems like the creature uses a diffused nervous system with a small number of clusters that must be destroyed, otherwise, it�s pretty much immune to most damage. Unfortunately for it, slime doesn�t work well against beam weapons and being able to attack from a distance forces the creature to chase me around in a futile attempt to hurt me. The slime gets me a slime nervous system core as loot, a spongy mass that makes up its central nervous system. According to Ali, it�s quite prized as a material for bioware implants.

Other than the occasional fights, the rest of the journey blurs into one long, tedious and mentally wearing half-day. Every time there is a monster close enough to be a danger, I head out with Ali to deal with it. It�s possible I�m being paranoid, that many of those monsters would never have known or cared about the group, but it�s better to be safe than sorry. Each time, I collect the loot but leave the bodies, mentally making a promise again about finding a storage solution in the Shop when I get back and have enough Credits.

�Ali, what�s up with the monsters? We�re in a zone 40 plus area, but we�ve only seen one major monster,� I ask the Spirit in my mind as I walk alongside the children.

�A few things. We�re just starting the transition, so higher level monsters aren�t that populous yet. The Council normally grabs a few high-level monsters at a time, dumps them into a Dungeon World like this and basically lets them breed. In a year, this place will be crawling with monsters,� Ali says. �Also, don�t forget � monsters need to eat. A high-level zone also means a higher number of low-level monsters, most of which are created from mutations of local animals. Of course, the mutations might actually come up with something really interesting too; but that�s normally in the later half of the transition.�

I nod slowly, reviewing what he said; �So, if we kill off a bunch of high-level monsters now, does that mean we can lower the level of the area?�

�Yes, no, maybe?� Ali shrugs. �Depends on how major a change it is and what the Council decides. It might lower the level here or the Council could just grab more monsters to add directly if they think the zone needs it.�

�Why create a Dungeon world in the first place?� I ask.

�Resources and power. The best way to get both is via the System, which requires fighting like what we�ve been doing. The Dungeon Worlds allow the Council to ship off the dangerous activity of resource gathering and leveling out of their backyard, basically creating farmland. Not to say that there aren�t Dungeons in other worlds, but Dungeon worlds are purely dedicated to it.�

When we get back to Carcross proper, most of the survivors are just grateful to be somewhere relatively safe. Only two want to actually go to Whitehorse, but 2 is more than I can carry. That�s another thing that I need to fix at some point, though I�m loath to trade in Sabre. Perhaps a sidecar? Elder Badger has picked up the parts needed to rebuild a few trucks as Ali points out, but it�s not going to help me right now. Well, nothing to be done about it right now so I just plan to do a pair of speed runs, blazing through the turns at speeds that leave monsters that want to fight me at odds.

That is until I�m on my way back after the first run. Increased Perception lets me spot the problem a few moments before I hit it, the spider silk strand so thin I don�t see it till then. I don�t bother attempting to stop as I�ll never make it, instead I engage Sabre�s transformation so that I can keep hold of Sabre when I hit the strands.

I end up spinning through the air, skipping along the pavement and only coming to a stop after smashing through a couple of trees by the side of the road. I groan piteously, a flashing notification letting me know I�m stunned.

In the distance, Ali is bouncing up and down and letting me know of the incoming monsters now that they�ve revealed themselves. Not that I can pay much attention to them as I struggle to bring my thoughts into focus. I swallow the pooling blood in my mouth, realising I bit my tongue somewhere along the way as well as adding a concussion to my list of ailments. I slowly push myself up, reaching to detach my rifle and realising it is not even there.

Shit.

I look around for it but doing so makes my head spin and I have to focus on casting a Minor Heal on myself instead. It takes precious seconds to cast the spell in the state that I am in and by the time I do so, the spiders are on me.

Except these aren�t really spiders like Xev - they are a weird hybrid spider-wolf creature. Spider legs and their bulbous body carry the creature forward as it is clad in dark black fur, a snarling canine head with all too sharp teeth bearing down on me. Calling forth the only weapon that I have, I lunge forwards and skewer the first monster. Unfortunately, it doesn�t kill the creature and it tosses me aside with ease, sending me spinning into the ground again. I stumble up and recall my sword immediately to swing to the left, catching another of the creature on its front legs.

After that, things get really hectic. Even partly healed, the mild concussion keeps me off-balance, though not nearly as off-balance as the creatures circling me, attacking one after the other. It takes only a few hectic minutes of swinging before I realise this isn�t a fight I can win, not injured and outnumbered like I am. Their bites scratch at and damage the armor bit by bit and they work like wolves, wearing me down for the final strike. I can�t win this, not in the state that I�m in so I trigger the QSM and run away. It�s a lurching, scrambling run that I�m glad no one but me can see.

When I get far enough away that Ali says they have given up looking for me, I start casting Minor Heal to fix the majority of the damage and down all the potions that I have. What�s not great is that I need to use my entire mana pool and Sabre�s pretty battered too. Structural integrity�s down to 48% and from what Ali tells me, my rifle is broken.

Not a good day. No mana, no rifle and creatures that Ali can�t spot automatically makes the way into Carcross dangerous. I groan, staring out into the distance and remember my promise to bring the other lady out. Fuck. Better to be safe than sorry though, I can�t afford to test those spider-wolf hybrids again. I just hope Ali is right and the slime�s nervous system is something that�s wanted because I�m going to need Xev to fix Sabre.

Worst part? I didn�t even get a damn level from all that.

Chapter 12

�Wexlix Spiders,� Mikito repeats after Ali, waggling her chopsticks in my face as we sit around having dinner together for the first time. Seems like both Richard and Mikito decided to stay and visit with Lana and I instead of going out again tonight and we are having fried noodles for dinner. We�re all working with the chopsticks that I keep in my drawer, chatting about our days. Both Richard and Mikito were both a bit surprised to be greeted by Ali at first but after the initial shock, they�ve taken it in stride. I guess small, floating brown men in overalls who isn�t attempting to kill them is not a problem. �Mixed wolf and spider?�

I nod firmly, rotating a shoulder again. I know it�s healed, my health bar says it�s full but my mind insists there�s still pain. �Tough bastards. Broke my rifle too while fighting them and I damaged Sabre significantly. Zev says it�ll take her at least a few days to fix it, some of the parts aren�t actually available till tomorrow.�

I�m already missing Sabre, having to walk all the way back on foot was less than optimal, stopping only long enough to let Sally know the results of the potions and let Jim and thus the Council know of the fate of Tagish. Unfortunately, I had to give nearly every single credit I had to Zev to fix the major mechanical issues. I�ll just have to deal with the fact that the armor isn�t going to be fully up to snuff for a bit.

�Nasty,� Richard shakes his head and uses his fork to spear more noodles. �Things are quieting down around here, most of the really bad monsters seem to have been dealt with by the guards by now. Mikito and I spent most of today just hunting for the pot. Seems like the Mana mutations have also increased the speed these animals grow and populate, otherwise we�d be in trouble trying to feed everybody.�

I nod at his words, glad to have caught up with them. Now that the hunters knew how to loot properly, they were able to generate actual Credits from the System. Right now, everyone was putting a small portion of their earned funds into a pool so that the Council could purchase the community garden from the System with the goal of creating and stabilising the city�s food sources. On top of that, Lana reports that the initial batch of materials I gave have mostly been used up and either resold to the System or given to the hunters as protection. The levels of the crafters were increasing and some were even talking about getting the hunters to sell their materials direct to them so that they could process the materials and sell it all at a higher price to the System. Looks like we are slowly getting an economy into place, but we�re miles away from creating a safe zone for the entire city.

�You tired of running around alone yet?� Lana asks, finished with her meal already. I�m not exactly sure where she put it either � one moment there�s a full bowl of food need to her, the next it is empty and she�s eyeing her brother�s. He surreptitiously moves his own bowl closer to him and away from her.

�I was the only one who had a vehicle,� I point out defensively and Lana shoots a look over at Mikito and Richard. The two look at one another and then sigh.

�You haven�t asked us what we�ve been doing with our credits,� Richard says.

�Didn�t think it was any of my business,� I reply and then exchange a nod with a departing family. While we were gone, it seems Lana had let it become known that we had a working hot shower and we�d become hygiene central � for a modest fee. Between those who wanted a hot shower rather than washing in the glacial river and the workers on the concrete wall that Ali and Lana had arranged to start building in front of the house, my once peaceful abode is busy little haven. Still, it leveled up the construction workers skills and gained me a System recognised set of defenses so I�d call it a win overall.

�We bought a mana engine and a mana battery from the Shop. We�re installing it in a truck now, should be ready in a day or two,� Richard shares and points a finger at me. �Raven�s Circle actually has a truck of their own too as of today.�

�How much did it cost?� I enquire, curious.

�6,000,� Mikito replies, finishing up her noodles and holding the bowl out for more from Lana. Lana complies, filling it up while I blink. Not as bad as I thought, but still, yeesh.

�So you don�t have to play Lone Ranger anymore,� Lana follows up, blue eyes narrowed at me. �If you�re willing to wait a day.�

I nod slightly at her words, recalling the fight earlier today. She�s right � if I hadn�t been able to slide into the next dimension, I�d be dead right about now. Then again, I�d be dead many times over without the QSM. �Be good to have some company. Most times, I�ve been finding people in groups anyway so this could be helpful.�

Richard nods and Mikito inclines her head before returning to her food, �You planning on hunting tomorrow then?�

�A bit. There�s a conversation I need to finish first though,� I give Ali a very pointed glance before continuing, �and then I might need to do some training. After that, yeah, hunting. Need to earn my keep.�

�There are reports that the eagles are mutating, the one�s near the cliffs? I�m thinking I might see if I can tame one of them. I could use the help though,� Richard says.

�Sure,� I glance past them out to the backyard where the puppy-ponies sit. Most look the worst for wear, scars indicating where previous injuries have accumulated. Interestingly enough, Lana has added a mutated red fox to the group who lazes in the sun by itself, watching the gamboling Huskies with a lazy eye. Surprisingly, they all seem to get along quite well � a side effect I�d guess of being pets now.

I smile quietly as they nod back to me and then I look down, staring at my right hand as it holds the chopsticks. I put them down quickly and slip my hands under the table, not wanting them to see the trembling. Yeah, okay, company would certainly be nice.

The next morning after my shower, I turn to Ali, �Alright, care to explain?�

�Well, a man and a woman really love one another��

�Ali!�

�Electromagnetic force � it�s one of the fundamental forces of nature,� Ali sighs and waves. �It does include electricity, but it also involves things like light, magnetism, hell, even friction. You�ll gain an affinity for it, so you�ll be able to manipulate it in small doses.�

�Ah� well, let�s do this then,� I shrug. I�m not sure I understand the full uses of this, but there�s no point in worrying till I can actually use it.

For a moment Ali just stares at me before he grumbles, floating up and putting a hand to my forehead. The next thing I know, I�m lying on the bed with the worst headache I�ve ever had.

�What the hell! You could have warned me!� I shout at Ali and then immediately regret it.

�I figured you�d faint again anyway,� Ali smirks, looking me up and down and sighs. �Good news or bad news?�

�Just talk. Quietly,� I hold my head in my hands, already casting a Minor Heal. Instead of speaking, Ali just flicks up the notification.

Elemental Affinity Gained (Electromagnetic Force)

Affinity: Very Poor

Congratulations!

For gaining your first Elemental Affinity, you have been rewarded 2,000 Experience Points.

�You suck at this. Seriously. You�re barely above the grade that the System recognises and that�s because I had to get in there and shove,� Ali shakes his head. �You won�t ever be able to use this fully, but at least you aren�t blocked off other affinities either.�

I groan, clutching my head. Minor Heal doesn�t seem to help, so I keep my eyes shut and focus on the most important thing that Ali said. This headache � it�s all his fault.

An hour later, I�m able to open my eyes without ice picks being jammed into them. At that point, Ali makes me start training. Makes, as in nags me till I agree to actually spend some time exploring this new ability. The exploration itself is relatively simple, a form of guided meditation. Surprisingly, the spirit�s actually serious and there�s not even a single joke about my too tender feelings or the like.

It�s a frustrating couple of hours, the feeling that he�s speaking about at first not at all graspable and then when I finally manage to sense it for the first time, only for brief moments. It takes until nearly the end of the session when I begin to really feel it, to be in the moment and sense the forces flowing through me and around me. It�s only for a moment when I finally manage to grasp the senses, I realise it�s all around me, the shifting of forces. For a moment its like I live in the Matrix except instead of ones and zeroes it�s a humming stream of energy that encompasses everything.

I definitely need to work on this.

Unfortunately, as much as I�d like to play with my new toy, I�ve got plans for the rest of the day. As I join both Mikito and Richard outside the house, we start walking towards the bridge and the Millennium Trail. Walking through the neighborhood, I can see the beginning of decay throughout the subdivision. Destroyed windows, uncollected autumn leaves, dry and brown lawns and discarded garbage that hasn�t been picked up, snow run-off that isn�t taken care of, even the occasional unwashed blood splatter. No one is here to clean up, take care of the homes and it shows, even the occasional whiff of rotted meat reminds me of the compost bins that haven�t been collected.

When we leave Riverdale itself to cross the bridge, I note that the ice still hasn�t left the river though the fishermen are out. Interestingly, a new addition to the fishing groups are the hunters who stand with guns at rest, watching over the fishermen. I guess even the fish have gotten more dangerous. We pass by the S.S. Klondike as we come off the bridge and I pause, staring at it for a moment, an idle thought passing through my mind. I push it aside though, the white sternwheeler has been laid up for years.

As we continue the walk, Richard waves to the puppies, bringing them back to him and he absently ruffles their fur as he walks.

�You ever try riding one?� I enquire and Richard chuckles, shaking his head.

�No, I like my own feet. I�m really not much of a rider anyway.� Richard answers as I start eyeing the clay cliff faces that surround the downtown, trying to spot the eagles who nest there. It�s only a few more minutes before we realise we�re not the only one�s who have heard about the mutating eagles � Raven�s Circle is here.

�Ah fuck�� I mutter and Mikito flashes me a quick sympathetic glance. Richard just snorts and takes a few quick steps to bring himself in front.

�Afternoon everyone,� Richard flashes a big charming grin, looking utterly relaxed while surrounded by four dogs each the size of a pony.

�Afternoon Richard,� Nicodemus replies, walking forwards and engulfing Richard�s hand in his. The red-haired giant seems to have gotten bigger I swear, now topping over nine feet at a guess and with muscles that go on for days. I�m kind of jealous � I�ve bulked out a bit, but nowhere near his extent. I�ve got more of a gymnast figure while he does the man mountain thing. �You guys here to deal with the eagles too?�

�Actually, I was hoping to tame one or two of them,� Richard explains and Nicodemus nods at that.

While those two talk, Luthien and Kevin make their way around the group to talk to me. I brace myself internally, wondering what these two want.

�John�� Luthien doesn�t stop at a normal distance, instead approaching close enough to reach up to put a hand on my chest. I step back smoothly, noting her new level and her class as an Elementalist.

�Yes?� I keep my voice level, even if my words are curt.

�I just wanted to make sure you�re okay. You�ve been avoiding me,� Luthien continues.

�I�ve had things to do Anne,� I pause and shrug, �And I�m doing fine.�

She looks at me with sympathy, just the barest flash of anger at the use of her real name as she continues, �What happened to your bike?�

�Being repaired,� I tell the truth, not particularly caring if she knows.

�Oh, John! Do you need some Credits, I�m sure we could spare some,� she tosses a glance at Kevin who nods agreeably.

Tired of this, I wave my hand, �Anne, just, go away.�

�Why are you being so rude?� she pouts at me now, switching tactics.

�Because I know you. Perhaps a bit late, but I know you,� I turn from her and start walking to Nic and Richard when Kevin grabs my arm and glares at me.

�Don�t speak to her like that. I�m willing to put up with some shit because of what we did, but��

I shut him up by punching him hard enough to break his nose and when he lets go of my arm, I kick him away from me. I stop then, though his friends already have swords drawn and a bow pointed at me. Impressive. Luthien doesn�t do anything though, running over to her boyfriend.

�Don�t touch me. Either of you. Don�t come near me, don�t talk to me, just don�t. I want nothing to do with you people,� my voice comes out in a whisper, rage that rushed into me the moment he touched me barely contained.

Richard looks between us all, a hand held out to his side to the puppies while Nicodemus waves his guys down. I stalk away from them all, giving them my back as I try to calm down. Damn. I played into her hand again. Now they are the ones who are the injured parties.

A short while later, Richard comes up to me and points so I follow him up the trail, Mikito trailing along behind. The first minute of walking is done in silence before Richard finally breaks it, �Are you going to explain why Mikito and I nearly got killed just now?�

I shake my head, knowing that the Circle probably wouldn�t have killed them. Or me for that matter. Still, it�s nice they were willing to back me up, even though we barely know each other. My hand still trembles from the adrenaline at my side and I fight to keep my voice steady as I answer him, �Anne � Luthien�s � my ex. You know that. What you don�t know is that we were a couple for years, though every summer she�d travel up here for work. Didn�t think much about it, but when I lost my job in Vancouver and my place burnt down, she suggested we move up here together permanently. A new start. So I did. Uprooted my life and left my friends and family to be with her. Except she and Jeff had been cheating on me this whole time and I finally clued in.

�You know the stupidest thing? I realised I stopped caring about her a long time ago. Stopped loving her, but every time we�d talk about something serious, she�d redirect it. I�m not even sure she ever loved me either, I was just another trophy, another admirer. But mostly,� I draw a deep breath before continuing, �mostly, I just want it done and over with. I�m done being manipulated by her, and if the only way to do that is to avoid her, so be it. I won�t get drawn into her web again. Not if I can help it.�

By the time I�m done, we�re nearly at the top of the short hill and looking towards the trees that the eagles normally nest at. Not surprisingly, the eagles haven�t stuck around while we hiked to their nest which leads to a more interesting question. �Richard, what exactly was the plan here?�

�Well, if we can net one of them, I can dominate it and make it a pet if I can enforce my will on it. Tame it if you will,� Richard explains.

�Great. But they aren�t coming back till we�re gone so�?�

Richard pauses, staring up at the empty tree and then looks back at me and then Mikito, �Oh, right. I didn�t really think about that.�

I exhale slowly, carefully and pull the trigger. When the shot finally comes, it�s a surprise that makes me lose a few precious seconds, the tubular shotgun that Richard lent me going off with a hiss rather than a bang. The other eagle that I wasn�t aiming at takes off while I recover, making it well out of range before I can even try to take a shot. I stand swiftly and walk over to my netted target as it struggles, attempting to free itself from the slowly constricting metallic net that covers its body.

The bald eagle is definitely mutated. For one thing, it�s about six feet tall and on top of that, I�m pretty sure there�s something wrong with its wings � the way the air ripples around them now and when it was landing seems to indicate something more is going on. Thankfully, the netting and gun were bought from the Shop especially for Beast Tamers looking to capture new pets so it can�t get out.

I can see Richard and Mikito scrambling up the cliff now that I�ve taken my shot. The other bald eagle that fled is circling high above me, it�s unmutated form watching what we are doing to its sibling. I�d feel sorry for it but I just spent the last three hours squatting in a crudely built camouflaged dugout, hiding from it and its brother till they returned to their nests. Seems like neither Mikito nor Richard had bothered to learn any Stealth skills as yet, something we�ll have to fix if we are to work together.

When Richard does make it up, what he does next is truly mystical. He squats down next to the eagle, meets its eyes and they engage a staring contest. That goes on for nearly ten minutes before he finally breaks away and starts untying his new pet. Yup, real mystical.

With most of the day spent getting Richard a new pet, one that he quickly names Orel, we don�t have a huge amount of time to hunt. With that in consideration, we decide to head straight along the river, moving across the trails that line Miles Canyon in search of prey. Richard sends Orel in the air and keeps the Huskies ranging in front of us. Ali�s almost superfluous in the beginning with Richard�s pets in play, Orel sending us in the direction of potential prey and the Huskies running them down. The dogs are well trained though, often just hounding the monsters till we arrive so that we can finish them off and get the experience as a group. Otherwise, Richard would just be getting all the experience.

We don�t get very far, even with all three of us having a high enough Constitution that we�re moving at a brisk walk the whole time. We still have to fight and kill the monsters and we stop every single time to firstly loot and then butcher the monsters to let a Husky bring the butchered carcass back. It�s an efficient method of transportation, though it does mean that we run out of puppies after a while. Ali takes over guiding us to the prey that Orel spots from above and he even drags us off to deal with some monsters that the eagle misses. Without his pets in play, Richard isn�t as useful so both Mikito and I get a chance to shine, fighting the monsters in close combat. Sad to say, it is quite obvious quite quickly who is better at that - and it�s not me. Unfortunately, once we kill a few of the monsters, we realise we still have to wait for a puppy to get back which means we still have to wait anyway. As frustrating as it is, we�re all conscious enough of the food situation back in Whitehorse that no one even voices the option of leaving the carcasses behind.

The fights themselves are interesting as it�s clear that Mikito and Richard have worked out a system to deal with monsters. Richard stays back, opening fire immediately with his shotgun-ish weapon in battle, using a somewhat more traditional shell and ball bearing load out. According to him, other than nets, he�s also got shells for instaset glue, explosives, electricity and even a grappling hook. Seems like if you could think about it, you could buy a shell for his weapon in the Shop.

Mikito on the other hand still uses her naginata, wielding it in close combat and taking on the monsters directly. Since we last fought together, she has gained a new Skill that causes the head of her weapon to glow red hot with each strike, sizzling through flesh and bone. I wonder if we could use the blade as a hot plate for cooking but I�m too scared and too smart to ask. In battle, the quiet Japanese woman becomes a focused whirlwind-of-death, sliding past attacks with ease and crippling creatures with swift, accurate strikes before moving to the next monster while Richard finishes off the cripple.

For the first few battles, I watch them fight without taking part. I watch how Richard focuses on commanding the dogs when they are around and how the dogs work with Mikito to take down the monsters they face. Once I get the gist of the idea, I step in and try to help and let�s just say I�m more of a hindrance than help. I�m in the wrong place for Mikito�s strikes, I pre-empt the attacks by the dogs forcing the monsters to move in the wrong direction, I even dodged straight into one of the animals in an attempt to get away from an attack. I�m all wrong for a party fight like this.

Who�d have thought that the fact that you could hurt your friends would make such a difference in combat? Mixing up melee and ranged fighters in a swirling arena of blades and teeth seems to require a lot more co-ordination than I�d have expected. Damn movies, making it seem so easy.

When we get back to my house, we agree to postpone dealing with the spiders for at least a day. Better to stay close to town and work on our teamwork. It would be tragic to be shot in the back by a friend in the middle of combat against the spiders. Or elbow a party member in the face. Or cut one of the puppies. Purely as an example.

In the evening, when the others have broken off to do their own thing, I join Lana in washing the dishes. She has her hair in a bun, in a tight blouse and jeans, bright evening sunlight highlighting her hair and cute button nose. For a moment, I just admire her from the side before I forcefully remind myself of an earlier promise.

�Lana, can you tell me about the town?� I begin.

�Huh?� Lana turns to me, puzzled by the generic question. I quickly clarify, �How are the people? The microloan programs? What�s the City Council managing to do and what are they failing at?�

�Oh� not asking for much are you,� she smiles at me before handing me another plate to dry. �I really miss dishwashers you know. Where do we start? Things are getting� better. People are moving around more, focusing on what they can do. Even if it�s nothing more than taking apart a door and putting up again, now that they know they can level and do something to improve themselves, it�s helping. We�ve got a few people working as lumberjacks, fishers, carpenters. All of that. We still don�t have enough guards and things are still dangerous, but people are I guess, getting used to the world.

�The loans are working well, we�re getting more and more of the hunters to sell the materials to us. Profits are abysmal, but the training is more important. Once they level their Skills up and produce better quality items, the amount we�ll make will improve. A few of the workers have even reported getting specific quests, pieces that they need to make.

�The Council� well, they�re organising the guards and the food. Until your announcement, they were really focused on the food situation so they had the farmers organised at the parks and the garden. Now, I think they�re looking at the housing situation more closely and are trying to work out who is still alive and what buildings to buy next.

�The problem at the end of the day is money, John. Credits. No one has enough and as much as people want to help, there�s only so much they are willing to give.�

She falls silent, the spiel coming to an end. The bright, bubbly personality is gone, the worried sister and citizen making a showing. �We just don�t have enough, not for everyone. Those that don�t hunt are rationed, those that do get double portions and often supplement with the Credits they earn from looting. That makes everyone else angry, especially the Citizens who don�t have a class that automatically gives them a way to earn Credits. Teachers, doctors, scholars - those classes can level their skills but they are dependent on an economy that we just don�t have. Worst, we�ve got people who are still in shock and people are still disappearing. The hunters report a few bodies every day in the river��

Lana has stopped washing, her hands clutched around a plate. I hesitate before closing a hand around hers, squeezing it and she looks up at me, unshed tears in her eyes, �I don�t know how you do it. The hunters, even Mikito and Richard aren�t willing to go as far out as you did. You just drove all the way to Carcross as if the monsters didn�t matter, that it was just another day before this shit happened. And the rest of us, we�re just trying to get through another day.�

I blink for a moment, staring out the window at the lounging puppies and fox as I attempt to answer her, �I� I guess I�m just too stupid to know better.�

�Don�t you feel anything? Didn�t you lose anyone?� she pulls her hand away from me to stare at my face, searching it.

�I�,� I struggle for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain my own complicated life. �I did. I think. But�� how to explain my relationship with them, the dearth of love and the parade of nannies and then later, boarding school. How I barely saw my father through my youth, and even less as an adult while my mother had left when I was born. I�ve never even met her. Of all of them, only my sister had ever been close to me and even we had drifted apart as she grew older. How to explain the irrational grief for something that I never really had, the way I learnt to tune it all out just to get through another day. Better not to. �It�s over. I can�t do anything for them even if they were alive, not from here.�

She shakes her head, sitting back down at the dining room table. I watch her for a moment as she collects herself, uncomfortable in the silence so I get back to washing the dishes. I�m nearly done when she speaks again, her voice soft. �We have thousands of people, and nearly half of them are combat classes but so few dare to go out. It�s too much, too dangerous and we keep losing people, here and there. The hunting groups get smaller, the food gets less and people get more and more scared.�

I frown, shaking my head and I stare into the distance. Shit, that doesn�t sound great. In an MMO, in a game, there�d be noob training grounds, places where people could start fighting monsters that were level appropriate. Maybe go out on quests and kill 10 rats or something.

Here though, we�re stuck in the real world and even the zone around Whitehorse is in the 10�s to 20�s. Sure, there are monsters that are lower leveled, in fact, the vast majority are low-level mutations but now that it�s been over a week and a half since the System came into play, even the mutations aren�t in single digits anymore.

I can�t blame them, can�t blame the citizens for not wanting to go out. We aren�t used to this, fighting and killing. I�m not used to this - but I can�t sit around either. Caught up in our own dark thoughts, the two of us sit quietly as the evening comes to a close, sharing some chocolate.

Chapter 13

In the morning, as we pass by the school, I spot the Constable heading out.

Amelia Olmstead (Level 14 Guardian)

HP: 410/410

�Still Level 14 eh?� I mutter and wave to the Constable. My companions look at me, wondering what I�m up to as Amelia trudges over, looking exhausted.

�Amelia, that your weapon?� I point to her beam rifle and Ali snorts, muttering something about how you couldn�t call that a weapon. I ignore him as she nods, thankful the little bastard is not visible or audible.

�Good. Come on, we�re going hunting,� I jerk my thumb to the trail that heads out to Long Lake, our current hunting ground.

�What? No! I just got off a shift,� she protests.

�Yeah, but you�re tough. A few hours, come on,� I reach out and grab her arm and start dragging her along the trail. She tries to yank her arm out of my grip and finds she�s unable to, while I continue to speak. �Look, Amelia, you want to get stronger, right? Protect people and all that jazz?�

�All that jazz? What are you? A �50 crooner?� Ali next to me snorts.

�I� well� yes,� answering me, Amelia forgets about fighting me.

�Good, then come on. Only way to level up in this crazy ass world is to go all murder happy,� I suddenly chuckle and the three others stare at me as I begin to giggle, doing my best to explain. �Constable. Murder happy.�

�Baka!� Mikito mutters stomping pass me as I continue to giggle and pull Amelia along while she keeps casting very worried glances at me. She can�t escape my grip and after a while stops trying to which is good since I wasn�t really going to drag her the entire way. Only so much forcing I�m willing to do.

Amelia does well, though, by the time we pass the third hour, she�s nearly falling off her feet. I let her go then, smirking as I watch her glowing Status. Yeah, Level Up as promised. We escort her back of course and help drag the meat with us and when some guards hear about what we did, they quickly ask us to help out. For the next few hours, we cycle back and forth dropping off new low-level volunteers in our party, occasionally lending out weapons for them to use. Mostly we do our best to ensure they stay safe, though my Minor Heal spell comes into use more than once. After a quick discussion, we get an on-going agreement where we keep most of the Loot drops except three from the escorted parties. We leave them with a little since that�ll give them something to sell and buy in the Shop and at least helps pay for our time a bit.

Over the next few days, we spend most of the day playing escort for new guards and hunters, helping them slowly level up and learn to fight the monsters. With the three of us on-hand, we can keep even the Level 1�s safe which means we focus on bringing those volunteers with us as much as possible, giving them a quick level up. It�s slow going though - most of them don�t have the stamina that we have, at least until they get their first few levels. In the evenings though, Mikito, Richard and I spend time hunting by ourselves and learning how to fight together. It�s also when we can make the most money as we target bigger and nastier monsters.

Standing in the Shop, it feels like it has been ages since I�ve been in. I know exactly what I want to purchase this time though which is good because I don�t have that much to spend. Unfortunately, while fighting weaker monsters is great for our teamwork and the cooking pot, it doesn�t do much for our wallets.

To start, I pull up information about electromechanical force. The costs for simple, college level knowledge about the force is quite low, only a couple hundred credits. However, costs keep going up after that in leaps and bounds and there�s even a notation that leads me to information about the elemental affinity itself. My jaw drops at the price though � a million credits!?! Definitely buying the basic physics understanding of electromechanical force, I�ll leave the understanding of the affinity aside for when I�m rolling in riches. As it stands, I can, if I work real hard, actually feel the force for a brief 10-second window.

Since I�m thinking of spells, I spend a few minutes perusing the spell lists. I�ve been feeling rather naked without a ranged offensive option, though the only spell I can afford is something called �Mana Dart�. Not exactly thrilling and the details on the spell itself is less than inspiring.

Mana Dart

Effect: Creates a dart out of pure mana which can be directed to damage a target. Does 10 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 25 Mana

I could flick my finger at a monster and do more damage! Okay, probably an exaggeration and I guess it is a beginner offensive spell, which makes it one more offensive spell than I have and it�s ranged too. Still not thrilled but it�s better than nothing.

Noting that Ali is finally coming to a conclusion in his haggling from the tone of their voices, I skip over to what I came here to buy � a sidearm. I scan through the various options, finally selecting one that meets all my criteria.

Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 18

Battery Capacity: 24/24

Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU

Cost: 1,400 Credits

It�s not a great damage dealer, but the Silversmith can be upgraded which means that I�ll actually be able to use it in the future. It�s a good backup short-ranged weapon at least. As Ali concludes his haggling, he flicks the total over to me and I let out a low whistle. He might scream, shout and throw a tantrum, but his results are impressive. I still don�t have enough money to buy a Class Skill, not with the way my funds keep draining but at least now I�ve got more offensive weaponry.

Breakfast is sober in the morning. This is our first real test as a group, the Wexlix spiders significantly more dangerous than anything we�ve dealt with so far. On the other hand, the half dozen or so that I spotted shouldn�t be impossible. I�ve got my new pistol strapped to my thigh and I�m somewhat comfortable with it now after spending the previous evening practicing. I�m no crack shot, but I can hit a barn door at twenty paces.

Just as we�re about to leave, Lana moves to give Richard a particularly hard hug and whispers into his ear. Richard nods firmly while Mikito escapes from the culturally inappropriate touching by virtue of using her naginata. The two of them headed out, Lana corners me and pokes a finger into my chest, �Don�t you dare let my brother get injured, do you hear me?�

I nod, a slight smile twisting my lips, �Did you tell him to abandon us if it got too dangerous?�

She snorts, obviously not finding me amusing right now, �No. I told him not to die.�

Impulsively, I give her a hug and whisper, �I promise to send him running first if things get bad.�

Lana�s stiff at first but relaxes after a moment, pleasant squishiness reminding me suddenly that it�s been a while since I�ve actually touched another human being in this way. I release her quickly, flash her a smile and beat a hasty retreat. I�ll deal with that later, it�s time to go kill some monsters. A little trick of anger runs through me, a vicious streak that demands I take revenge.

The Huskies sit in the back of brand new dark blue truck that Mikito and Richard have acquired. It�s huge and monstrous but strangely silent, the mana engine and battery not making a single sound as they run. It�s an incongruity that clashes with my understanding of how things should be that I struggle with even with Sabre. Still, the good news is that Sabre runs smoothly even if it does look like its seen better days.

Of course, Xev was less than impressed considering I had just gotten it fixed and had rather firmly told me to be careful. You�d think she�d enjoy the extra business, but I guess having your work wrecked in the space of a day was a bit frustrating. I�m definitely going to have to see about getting on her good side soon though since she�s the only Master-class Armorer in town. It�ll take months if not years for the rest of the humans to catch up with her and till then, it�s either her or the System.

Idle thoughts as we drive down the Highway, heading to fight the Spiders. We stop only long enough to switch the fort out between all of us, Mikito and Richard gaining the experience bonuses before I take it back. I should make a note to bring Lana out while it�s still in our control. Easy experience for her and there�s no reason not to. In fact, I bet we could run a train of people through here to give them the experience and get them a significant way to their first level.

When we start getting close to the original ambush point, we pull the truck over and disembark. I trigger the change and feel Sabre slide all over me, locking into place and giving me a sense of invulnerability and safety. My smile widens and it�s only the barking of the dogs that brings my attention back to our task. I�ve missed this.

�Mecha!� Mikito is pointing at my newly power armored clad form, her jaw on the ground. Oh shit, I forgot to tell them.

�Yeah��

�Fuck man! How come you didn�t tell us about this?� Richard swears, eyeing my armor clad form.

�Ummm� I forgot? I�ve been trying to keep this quiet. Don�t want it stolen and what not, you know,� I shrug uncomfortably, feeling a bit like a jerk. They are working with me after all, they deserve to know some things.

Ali is laughing his ass off, invisible as usual. �Real smooth boy-o.�

Richard continues to glare at me before he visibly shakes himself and lets it go and walks over to inspect Sabre. �Damn, but that�s cool. Like, really cool. How much did it cost you?�

When I name the number, their jaws drop again. They just stare at Sabre and me and then Richard barks a laugh, �What�s your class? Moneybags?�

�No,� I begin to protest and then realise he�s teasing me.

�You are going to let me test this out,� Richard points his finger at me and Mikito nods firmly at that. For the first time, there�s a look of wonder and glee on Mikito�s face, the first I�ve ever seen. Mostly, she�s this quiet, reserved, perfect little Japanese girl until she fights, then she�s just death on two feet. But now, now she seems almost happy. It�s gone in a moment and her face closes down again. Thankfully, the PAV can resize to a certain extent though I�m not sure it�d fit Mikito. Still, we can give it a shot.

�Of course. Just, keep this quiet will you?� At confirming nods from both of them, I breathe a little sigh of relief. Not sure if matters, but keeping a few aces up my sleeve still seems like a good idea. �So, we follow the plan?�

Once I get their acknowledgment, I draw a deep breath and head into the woods first with Mikito and Richard following a good distance behind. Small radios clipped to their body and installed into my helmet lets us keep in contact at a distance while I scout out the spiders. It�d taken nearly a full day for Richard to learn Stealth, Mikito only needing a half-day but neither had very good levels yet which is why I�m in front.

Getting all the way to the ambush point takes nearly an hour of slow, careful moving. I can�t rely on Ali�s abilities so I have to look for them myself. When I do spot the first spider, it�s lying in the tree tops among its webs, just waiting for prey, occasionally shifting its head to sniff at the air and twitch its furry ears. The creature is still weird looking, a strange mixture of a wolf�s head on top of a spider�s furred body.

Wexlix Spider Adult (Level 34)

HP: 780 / 780

The moment I spot it, I start scanning the ground and I begin to see the thin threads of spider-silk laid around the base of trees ahead of me, ready to catch and hold unsuspecting prey. There�s no way in, not without triggering a trap or alerting the watching spider so I call a halt to Richard and Mikito over the radio before hunkering down.

�Ali, you can still spot them using your eyes,can�t you? And they can�t see you right?� I think to my companion and he nods, flying forwards. It�s nice that he actually can be serious when he needs to be.

It takes nearly an hour before the Spirit returns to my position, floating above me and wiping at non-existent cobwebs. �Yeah, you�re fucked.�

Okay, mostly serious.

�Details Ali,� I mutter in exasperation. We�re far enough away that the Wexlix Spider guard can�t hear me, especially while I�m in my helmet but I still curse myself out. No need to talk when I can just think at my orange-clad companion.

�Right, remember how you fought 5 of them and got your ass kicked? Well, there�s about a dozen adults and a half-dozen youngsters. And a spider that�s about half again the size of the biggest one whom I�m guessing is the Alpha,� Ali says. �Oh, and I found your rifle. It�s in the middle of the road, in enough pieces I�m not sure even Zev can fix it.�

I crawl back carefully, making my way over to my companions before letting them know the bad news. They fall silent at my news, the numbers well above what we had initially expected to fight. As much as I want to get my revenge and pick up the young lady for the quest, this is way too challenging for us right now. I�m doing this for, well, money and a distraction. Getting killed is definitely not on the cards.

�Time to leave?� I suggest.

Mikito shakes her head, anger flaring in her eyes at even a mention of running away. I�m somehow not surprised, I�ve never seen her decide not to fight.

�Mikito�� Richard begins.

�No. They will kill others. We are here. We kill youkai,� she insists and clutches her naginata to her.

Richard frowns, looking at the determined widow and then me. I groan slightly, shaking my head. �Mikito, this is insane. There�s more of them than there are of us.�

�We fight. I fight,� she points to herself, standing up and I growl, grabbing her arm and pulling her down. She isn�t able to fight my strength and has to sit, though she glares at me till I let her go.

�This is a bad idea,� I say and Mikito looks at me and then Richard who looks between the two of us.

�Boy-o, one thing to note. The longer we wait, the harder this is going to get,� Ali chimes in next to me, pointing backwards. �These guys have an Alpha which means they�re breeding. Longer you wait, the more there are.�

I grunt, shaking my head and then relay the information. Richard draws a deep breath and Mikito looks triumphant. Shit. Still, there�s no reason we couldn�t get a few more hands - but really? Who would we ask? Most of the others are too low level or just not equipped enough and the only other option is Raven�s Circle. You know what, fuck that shit. �Okay, fine.�

�How are we doing this then?� Richard says. I frown and then stare back, thinking about our options before I start speaking.

What do you do when you�ve got to fight a force that outnumbers you? Fight them piecemeal of course. Seems like not all the spiders will leave to attack immediately, at least from my experience. If my rather limited encounter experience holds true, all we need to do is make sure we attack and pull back, drawing them to us and killing them in small bursts. It�s why I�m back at my original scouting position while Mikito and Richard have drawn the truck further up the road, only a short run from where I am.

Can�t hit it with my pistol or the Mana Dart from this range, so I get ready to trigger the Quantum State Manipulator. When I do activate the device this time, I can feel the QSM extend its field, enveloping my body and shifting me to another dimension I guess. I can feel the effects, the field that wraps all around me and the energy that floats through me, around me. For a moment, I just stand there in surprise, taking it all in.

�You can feel it now can�t you? It�s our affinity,� smirk Ali.

�Yeah�� purchased knowledge comes flooding in now that I think about it. I stand there for a second, trying to understand what I already do - which is as strange and confusing as it sounds before I shake my head. Something to look into later, I got things to kill. Later. Always later.

I ignore the need for Stealth, just making sure my escape route is clear of spider webs before I grin, focusing on the creature as I trigger the QSM off. Time to test out my new spell. The moment I phase back in, I cast the spell, sacrificing Mana so that the floating blue bolt of energy can form in the air. I gesture with my hand and the dart flies straight out, slamming into the creature�s eye, blinding and angering it. The Wexlix spider howls in anger and a moment later a reply comes moments later from its pack mates.

Ali stays behind, floating in the air and counting, �1, 2, 3� and that�s 5 adults and 3 of the juveniles. Best run fast boy-o!�

No need to tell me twice as I bolt for it. Good news is that I�m able to stay ahead of them, though I have to duck and roll once when a Spider shoots its web at me. Other than that, I manage to make it back to the road without much trouble, the Spiders only 20 feet behind me. I run straight towards the truck and my team, spinning around with my pistol in hand to snap off a shot. The creatures burst out of the foliage even as I turn around, clustered in a clump of skittering spider legs and howling wolf heads.

Richard on top of the truck opens fire, launching an explosive shell into one side of the group and then another, tossing spider bodies around like so much confetti. Even as they begin to recover, I add to the carnage with my pistol, targeting the injured to end their lives quickly. As much damage as the explosives do to the ones that they hit, there�s too many for Richard to stop and the remaining spiders flow across the gaping holes in the asphalt and around their dead or dying friends.

Mikito and the four Huskies are there to meet them, both sides clashing in a maelstrom of fang, fur, claws and metal. Mikito slides past the lunging bite her first opponent makes, the blade of her naginata leaving a scorched wound across its body as she dodges, engaging the second almost immediately. Her blade flashes, blocking and cutting at legs as she dances between the two adult spiders.

The Huskies each take on the rest individually, pouncing forwards to bite at a leg before scrambling back. The juvenile spiders are out-weighed by their opponents and seem to be getting the worst of it, but an adult spider slams into the black and white puppy that attacks it, a leg rising and pinning the dog to the ground. Before it can attack again, I turn my pistol on the creature, burning a hole in its neck. It distracts the creature for a brief moment, long enough for Orel to swoop down and pin the spider into the ground, claws piercing the body. Orel doesn�t stop there though as it flaps its wings, the elemental blades of wind that surround them shifting the air to help it lift the creature off the ground.

I stop paying attention to Orel as I take off to help Mikito, swinging my sword at a back leg that comes into range. It causes the spider to lurch, giving Mikito a chance to open its chest up. The rest of the fight is actually relatively short, Richard and the puppies working to stall their opponents till Mikito and I finish off ours. Once that is done, we use overwhelming numbers to kill the remaining spiders, massacring them with ease.

I exhale, staring around at the various Spider corpses and a part of the tension I�ve been carrying since Mikito first insisted on this fight dissipates. Yeah, we can do this.

As I move to cast my Minor Healing on the injured dog, Ali shouts, �Incoming!�. The dog that I was about to touch lunges forward, putting itself between me and the launched webbing. The injured dog staggers and the web stream continues, sticking its body to the asphalt. Another dog is caught in the sticky web attack and restricted but everyone else manages to get away unscathed. Behind the flying webs, the remainder of the spiders come rushing out from the undergrowth, baying their need to extract revenge. At the back of the group, a truly massive Wexlix Spider looms, its fur dark grey and its eyes glowing red.

Wexlix Spider Alpha (Level 42 � Boss)

HP: 3280/3280

�RUN!� I shout to my companions, grabbing a plasma grenade from my inventory and tossing it into the incoming horde. A rainy day has definitely come and my only regret is that I don�t have time to get a second one out. Mikito ignores my order, flashing forwards as she activates her skill Charge and then goes into a slide underneath one of the creatures, her naginata held upwards to disembowel it.

On the truck, Richard curses the woman and unloads a round of normal shot before he begins to return the favor by using an instaglue shell on one of the closer Spiders, eyes flicking down to where his target just shot, �They webbed the tires!�

The explosion of the plasma grenade is less intense in the open air, heat and flames rushing out in a sphere of super-heated air that bowls the spiders and my companions over. Sabre�s extra weight and its gifted strength help keep me on my feet, while I spot Mikito slowly stagger upright leaning on her polearm, having been partially shielded by the body of the fighter she had been fighting under. I take the extra time that I�m given to sprint forward and behead a juvenile spider as our enemies recover. Screeching its anger, Orel returns to the battle from the skies and picks up another adult into the air, circling to gain altitude immediately as she gets ready to drop her opponent. The remainder of the adults including the boss recover quickly and I see little choice but to wade into the middle of them to distract the creatures before they can focus on my companions.

There are too many though, too many for me to distract completely. The injured, black and white husky has its throat torn out, unable to avoid its fate as it struggles to free itself from the webbing. Another has its side pierced by a spider leg, the creature rearing over it to finish it off. Richard screams in anger, unloading shot after shot into the spider and manages to punch a hole through the creature�s chest where it collapses on his pet.

I only catch glimpses of all this as I spin and attack in the middle of the spider horde. A leg slams into my shoulder, spinning me around and I take the momentum to slice off another foot that comes towards me. I no longer have time to think, reacting purely by instinct as fangs and claws come at me from all directions. Ali pops into existence occasionally throughout the fight, adding to the confusion as attacks pass through his incorporeal figure and buying me slivers of time.

As I fight, I catch a glimpse of Mikito. Her face is one of intense concentration and rage, lips pulled back even as blood drips from a cut down the side of her face, her skin red as if she�s been standing in the sun too long, portions of her long black hair burnt off. The naginata twirls in a dance of light and fire, slicing first one, a second and then a third leg off before burying itself in the throat of her opponent, all in the time it takes for me to exhale. Even as she finishes it off, she instinctively steps away from a lunging bite that comes from her side, swinging the butt of her polearm into its throat.

A mistimed block ends up with a Wexlix spider�s mouth around my right arm, attempting to crush and rend. Hundreds of pounds of pressure come to bear and even under the armor, I can feel my bones begin to crack. I release the blade from that hand and transfer it to my left, angling my cut to slash open the throat that is so invitingly positioned.

Even as blood gushes and the creature flops forward, pulling me off balance, another blow catches me from behind and I am sent sliding along the asphalt. Before I can recover, a leg pierces through the armor into my abdomen, pinning me face down on the ground. I scream into my helmet, activating the QSM to fade out from the pinning leg and scramble away to see my attacker.

Wexlix Spider Alpha (Level 42 � Boss)

HP: 2430/3280

I know the creature wasn�t directly in the blast of the plasma grenade, but I know it was close. I groan mentally, backing up as much as I can to give myself space, mind racing. Blood drips down from my wound even as Sabre reacts to the damage, applying pressure through electronic sheathing around my stomach, slowing the bleeding. Adrenaline is keeping most of the pain away for the moment, but I know if I stop now, it�ll come back with a vengeance.

No time to treat the wound properly as the Alpha gets over its confusion at the disappearance of its original prey and skitters to the truck and Richard who stands on it. I don�t let it as I take a few running steps and leap into the air, calling the sword into both hands as I angle to land on the creatures back. Just before I do, I release the field and come back fully to this reality, sword landing first into its back.

The blade sinks in deep, cutting through coarse fur and muscle into vulnerable organs beneath as I land with one knee bent, the other splayed behind me as I try to keep my balance. Or at least, I hope vulnerable organs. I twist the blade with both hands, then as the creature bucks I fall flat and take a grip on the open wound. I dig enhanced strength hands into its back, crushing flesh as I attempt to stay on the monster.

While I keep the Boss distracted, my companions take the fight to the remaining spiders. Orel returns after having dropped its latest prey, this time landing on and staying on top of another wolf to peck it to death, beak tearing into the creature�s neck and spine. Richard has switched to slugs, each shot tearing a hole into the spiders he targets, creating distracting, painful openings for the Huskies to finish the monsters off. Mikito seems to have lost her naginata in the body of a spider, switching to fighting with a pair of glowing curved short swords that she wields with finesse and speed.

The Alpha, unable to buck me off, spins towards the truck again and launches itself at Richard without warning. Only battle hardened instinct alerts Richard, making him throw himself off at the last second. He�s unable to escape completely and the creature�s fangs clamp down and rip off his foot as he dodges. For a brief moment, Lana�s face flashes before my eyes as I see Richard almost lose his life and that centre of peace that I fight in shatters. Rage comes in its place, the same cold angry focus that I felt when I saw Haines Junction and my world narrows down to one goal and one goal only � ending this thing before it hurts anyone else. As the Alpha attempts to stabilise himself on the truck, I shove my left arm all the way into the wound to my shoulder, grabbing at whatever organ I can find.

The Alpha rears up, howling in surprise and rage as I dig around its abdomen and grasp hold of something slimy but tough. My position fixed, I call my sword to my right hand and begin thrusting it into the abdomen, twisting and repeating the attack again and again. When the creature slams itself into the truck to throw me off, I don�t dismiss the sword but instead throw my weight behind it, letting the creatures own momentum widen the wound.

I don�t know how long it takes, my world taken over by my need to end this creature, to kill it and all its kind. I vaguely recall a tree shattering around us in the eternity of bucking and stabbing. When the Alpha stops moving, collapsing on the ground, I find myself a hundred yards from the original scene of battle in the woods, alone. Hovering over me, Ali is silent and worried. Extracting my arm from its innards is a disgusting, revolting process and once again, I really wish there was a magic dissolving corpse option.

Free of the creature, I drop to my knees and focus, working on rebuilding my self-control. The aftershocks arrive soon after, my entire body shaking and I have to pull my helmet off when I begin to throw up, pain dragging me to my feet as my stomach wound makes itself known. When the smell finally hits me, I begin retching again, stomach clamping around my open wound and making me fall over to my side in pain.

�Boy-o?� Ali whispers worriedly after I finally stop shivering and whimpering in pain long enough to cast a Minor Heal on myself. My body�s System assisted regeneration helps too, patching together my body even as I damage it by throwing up.

�I�m okay. I�m okay,� I close my eyes, the rage driven away by the pain. I work on my self-control, rebuilding my walls as I put the anger aside. �The others?�

�Safe. Injured but safe,� Ali replies and I nod, slowly pushing myself up and hurry over to my companions to provide them with a little bit of healing. Mikito has already bandaged Richard�s leg, the man caring less about his foot then the corpse of his dog. For a moment, I feel regret that I�ve not taken the time to learn their names and resolve to do better as I watch Richard grieve. Richard holds the corpse close, sobbing into it even as the other dogs snuffle around them, letting loose occasional howls of grief. All I can do is cast Minor Healing on both of them, helping to speed up the process.

Ali floats over to me, his usual sardonic smile back on his face as he waggles his fingers to throw up a pair of notifications, �Congrats boy-o. Your first boss kill.�

Congratulations! Wexlix Spider Alpha � Boss Slain

+11,700 XP

Level Up!

You have reached Level 12 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 14 Free Attribute Points to distribute.

When I finish reading, I cast another healing on Mikito before turning back to Ali who has continued speaking after I�m done, �That could have been worst. Looks like easy mode is over though if boss monsters are beginning to appear.�

�You mentioned that earlier. Care to clarify?� I ask for clarification. Better not to make assumptions.

�Boss monsters are leaders of a group of monsters, always the strongest son-of-a-bitch. Their presence generally increases the breeding and mutation rates of their followers.� Ali shakes his head. �Good thing you killed it, Wexlix Spiders are nasty predators and could easily have made this entire region a lot harder to deal with. Of course, there are worst things out there.�

I look around the carnage, the dead body of Richard�s pet and our injuries and shiver at his words, looking out into the wilderness. If what he�s saying is true, then out there, there might be more monster hordes breeding and growing unchecked. Monsters that we know nothing about, growing unchecked till the horde comes crashing down on us in an unstoppable wave. Ali sees my reaction and just nods soberly. We�re running out of time.

Chapter 14

I stay silent while we loot the bodies and get Richard back into the truck along with the rest of the animals. I stay silent when, at Ali�s urging, Mikito and I head into the webbed forest and find the eggs, collecting them all for sale. I stay silent through the entire drive back till we drop Richard off with Ali at the Shop.

Once Richard disappears, I turn to Mikito and snarl, �What the hell were you thinking!� She looks right back at me impassively and I continue, raising a finger. �I said run. That was a fucking plasma grenade. If you had been any closer, you�d have died. Hell, it�s pure luck you didn�t die. Richard stayed back because you fucking didn�t run and he nearly died for it. I nearly died.�

She looks to the side, not meeting my gaze and I growl, raising a finger. �Don�t ever fucking do that again. If I say run, run. Hell, if Richard says run, you run. If you don�t listen to us when we fight, you�ll get one of us killed.�

Mikito looks up for a moment, meeting my eyes briefly before looking down again, her hand clutching the naginata tightly. She jerks her head slightly at my words and then without saying a word further walks to the crystal and touches it, disappearing into the Shop. I snarl, shivering with rage at that crazy woman. Fuck!

A small part of me knows that it�s not just her that I�m angry at. I�m angry at me, for agreeing to it and I�m angry at the System. I thought I had begun to get a hang of it, thought I had an idea of what to expect. But each time, things just keep getting worst and worst - more monsters, higher level monsters, Boss monsters. Monster hordes next.

�Adventurer Lee is it not?� the voice is urbane and cultured and sends a shiver down my spine. I turn and spot Roxley and once again, I am struck by just how pretty he is. Delicate features that still hint at the strength of his body, a commanding aura that attracts attention. I blink when I realise I�ve probably been staring longer than I should have.

�Yes, sir,� I reply immediately and then pause, considering what to call him. Lord just seems pretentious but it is what he is.

�And where is your Companion?� Roxley looks around, smiling slightly as he speaks.

�� with a friend. They�re selling our loot,� I say and then I realise something. �Oh, I have some things you might want to know.�

�Do tell,� Roxley says.

�Yeah,� I pause, trying to decide if should hold out for some reward. However, after a moment I decide against it. He�s been pretty generous so far and goodwill can often be better currency than actual currency. Old friends are important. �Well, firstly, did you know that there�s a fort at Carcross Cutoff? I kinda own it now, but yeah, there�s one there. Also, there are boss monsters now.�

�Really. A fort?� Roxley smiles slightly, looking at me as I stare at him. �Well, you have been fast at picking up property have you not.�

�Yeah, I guess so,� I reply and shrug, my lips twisting into a slight smile.

�Well, I�m sure there�s a story there but I was just about to go for lunch,� Roxley says and nods to me. �Adventurer Lee.�

�Lord Roxley,� I reply automatically, trying to get my brain back into gear. Switching from anger to fear to lust in a short span of time seems to have short-circuited it. Or maybe that�s just my consciousness.

As he walks to the doors, he stops and then smiles slightly, �Perhaps you�d care to join me while you wait for your friends? You can tell me more about the fort and these boss monsters then.�

�Ummm�� I reply and then realise my stomach is growling, letting me know that running around fighting and killing and healing does require a large number of calories. �Sure.�

Lunch itself is amazing. I stare at the plates, scraping the last of the dessert up with the spork that seems to be utensil of choice here and sigh, leaning back contentedly. Roxley is smiling slightly as he watches me. �It is good to see that our civilizations share certain taste.�

I blink then nod, sitting up, �Yes.�

�I am surprised that you had no trouble with the Urike tentacles though, I understood that North Americans were pickier,� Roxley says and I know exactly the dish he was speaking of. It looked like a lurid, purple mess of suction cups and twitching meat.

�Ah, I�m a CBC. Canadian Born Chinese. My father was very traditional and I grew up eating, well, everything,� I explain and smile slightly, remembering pig brain soup and snake blood shakes. Yeah, trips back to his hometown was always fun and I quickly learnt to just eat.

�I see,� Roxley gets this far away look for a second before those dark eyes of his snap back to me. �A melting pot of cultures then. Interesting.�

I just nod to his words, sipping at the water that is laid out for me at my request. Over lunch, Roxley had extracted the story about the fort and the Wexlix spiders from me though he seemed significantly more troubled by the Hakarta than the spiders. Then again, I guess the boss monsters were something he knew to expect.

Gods, I hate being behind the curve, knowing less than everyone else. It reminds me of every time I was put into a new school as a kid - never knowing where everything is, always bumping into existing friendships and missing all the cues that everyone else who had a shared history got. Don�t date this person. Don�t talk to this one. That teacher was particularly stern.

�Adventurer Lee?� Roxley says again and I blink, coming back to the present.

�Sorry!�

�As pleasant as this was, perhaps we could continue this at another time. I have other matters to attend to,� Roxley says as he stands, pushing away from the table and I stand quickly too.

�Thank you,� I offer him my hand and he stares at it bemusedly before taking, shaking it once and letting go before he walks away.

Once more at the doorway, he turns to look at me, saying, �I shall have my companion contact yours to continue this then,� before sweeping out. I stare at him for a second, blinking and walking down to the Shop. Well, that was interesting.

�Boss monsters?� squeaks Minion, staring at us.

�As we said, they�re more powerful leaders of the normal monsters. They increase the speed the monsters under them breed and mutate,� Richard repeats again, standing on his own two feet. I glance down at them again, marvelling at the Shop. It hadn�t even been that expensive to have them regenerate his foot for him all things considered and we�d made enough that I had Xev fixing up Sabre fully right now.

�Yes, thank you very much, Mr. Pearson, for informing us,� Fred says, waving Minion down. Minion subsides like the good little minion that he is, glaring at us and I can�t help but smirk. �This is disturbing news. The Council will have to discuss what we should do about it.�

I blink, staring at him. Do about it? Do what? There�s not a lot that I can think of that we can do beyond what we�re doing now. Maybe work a little harder to level up, get tougher, get a militia together, maybe get some defenses? Okay, maybe there are things that can be done.

�In the interim, will your group continue to locate and attack these creatures for the Council?� Fred says, leaning forward. �Your actions will provide immediate relief for the city while we work on other options.�

Quest Received (Repeatable) - Kill the Boss Monsters around Whitehorse

Boss Monsters are appearing around Whitehorse. To reduce the danger of a monster horde, you must kill the boss monsters before they grow too strong. To succeed, kill 4 Boss Monsters.

Rewards: 20,000 XP

I blink, staring at the Quest as does Richard who flicks his hand to the side, waving the screen away most likely. Arse. Perhaps if we stick to around Whitehorse itself, the bosses will be more manageable. In fact, put that way, it�d be an easy way to game the System. I feel my shoulders loosen a little as I rationalise things, the recollection of the creature pinning me to the ground still fresh.

Richard is speaking again and I sigh, turning my attention back. Not that I expect I�ll hear anything useful but you never know.

Lana, not surprisingly, wasn�t particularly happy with us when she heard our story. She glared at all of us before walking away, leaving us staring at the half-made meal and wondering if dinner would be served. We sit around awkwardly, wondering if she�ll be back for nearly 15 minutes before we give up and Mikito takes over the cooking.

�John,� Richard says as I stare to where his sister left.

�Yeah?� I glance back at him guiltily, hoping he didn�t realise what I was thinking.

�We were talking and we were wondering, would it be possible to turn the lights on if you had the Credits?�

�Definitely. Just depends on how, but it�s not actually at all expensive. Just need a mana engine and battery for the generator and that�s not too expensive. About five hundred Credits,� I answer him and then shrug. �Don�t have the money right now though.�

�Yeah, about that,� Richard waves his hand and I blink at the transfer notification. �Call it rent.�

�Uhh� sure,� I accept it and then put it straight to buying the generator, smiling slightly as I feel the shift around us. I walk over to the light switch, testing it out before popping back down. �That�ll be useful.�

Richard nods, smiling slightly. It�s still light enough that we won�t need it right now, but at least we have electricity again, even if all our electronics are broken. Oooh, maybe we could get someone to fix up a TV.

Mikito waves to us, bringing us back to reality as she drops our plates in front of us. I nod to her in thanks and so does Richard before we get down to the serious business of eating.

�Are we doing this? Hunting the bosses?� Richard asks and I blink, the forkful of meat halfway to my lips. I frown, popping it in and chewing as I look to Ali who shrugs back at me. Going out, hunting and visiting Carcross, fighting. It was fun sort-of and necessary but after today, the threat is all too real. If there was anyone else�

�It�s not a great Quest,� I offer and Richard nods. Mikito stays silent, probably because we all know what she�d recommend. �But if we�re out hunting anyway, I guess it can�t hurt to have it.�

Richard nods and I go back to my meal. I guess that�s settled then.

Chapter 15

Rather than head out immediately, we spend the next day hunting around town, bringing new people out with us to gain some experience and meat. It�s interesting, working with the lower levels and after a quick discussion, the three of us split into two groups. Richard and his puppies lead one group of newbies, Mikito and I another. It helps us cover more ground and bring in more food and train up more newbies in the same time frame. Of course, we barely get any experience but after yesterday, the change of pace is rather relaxing. I can�t wander around in Sabre, but with Mikito and I around, the monsters we meet are more than easy to deal with if they get out of hand.

We keep each group with us for about half the day, each time we get back most of the members have leveled up at least twice. It�ll be a while before we can get most of them to decent levels, but as I understand it, even the normal hunting groups are beginning to bring one or two of the more advanced newbies with them.

The problem mostly is that of equipment. If we could get some of these groups outfitted properly, they could start hunting on their own. Unfortunately, till they have better equipment that they own themselves, they have to rely on us. However, that�s a raw deal for them too since we take most of the Loot afterwards as payment for our time. It�s still a lot less than what we�d earn if we were working ourselves but it�s better than nothing.

As evening comes, I make my way to the Shop. My original rifle is unfortunately too broken to use so I have to buy a new one and my share of the Loot drop and the Boss fight should cover it I hope.

Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 57

Battery Capacity: 17/17

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

Yeah, the battery capacity is a bit lower but the base damage is significantly higher. I�ve also been able to salvage the mana battery from the other rifle so I can just swap it out as necessary if I need to. Let�s hope it doesn�t come to that of course. As I walk out and straddle Sabre, I sigh as I stare at my Credit balance. Damn world. Credits fly out as fast as I earn them, fixing Sabre, getting new weapons, healing myself, learning new Skills. The list is endless and the only way to earn, at least for me, is to go out and risk my life. Again and again. I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right, what is, is.

�Where�s Richard?� I ask, pulling up a seat next to Lana and Mikito.

�Mmm� with one of his �friends� I believe,� Lana�s lip quirk slightly, waving her hand to the front door. �He�s gotten quite popular as I understand it.�

I nod slightly, recalling the way the majority of his group had been made of women. I guess his increasing Charisma score had certain side benefits. After a moment�s hesitation, I bury myself in dinner, murmuring words of praise to Lana. Conversation quickly devolves to the inanities of life, mostly led by Lana since Mikito and I know what we did.

�The Council sent Jim and his group into the dam today and they swept the area for monsters. They can�t afford to buy it right now, but with some work, they believe they can at least get the emergency release valves set to fully open so that the dam isn�t at threat,� Lana explains and I nod. Huh. I didn�t even realise that was a problem but I�m glad someone looked into it. As a kid runs up to me, I sigh and reach out, pulling a snack sized chocolate from my inventory and hand it to her. She grins, gives me a quick hug and runs off and I find both Lana and Mikito eyeing me.

�Bad,� Mikito points a finger at me and I shrug. Hey, I like chocolates - and the kid probably doesn�t get much in terms of treats these days.

When we finish up, Mikito takes over the dish washing and Lana grabs my arm, pulling me to the backyard. She tosses the remainder bones out where a brief scuffle settles who gets the scraps before she turns to me, waist length red hair swaying above her bottom.

�John, you�re headed out with my brother again tomorrow aren�t you?� Lana says and I nod in confirmation. Her lips purse as she visibly struggles with what to say next, arms crossed underneath her bosom. Eventually, she lets out a little huff, �I can�t stop you. Or him. If I told him no, he�d just go. Just, watch over him, will you? He�s my little brother and he�s, well, he�s stupid.�

I grunt, scratching at my head as she says that and then glance back inside to where Mikito washes the dishes silently, �I�ll try, but��

�I know. I know it�s not safe. Just be careful, please. He came back without a foot. And Jim, he loses someone every few days. Just yesterday they lost half a hunting party,� Lana says and hugs herself tighter. �I can�t� if I lose him��

I nod and then after a brief moment�s hesitation I walk over and give her a hug. She is stiff at first and then relaxes into my arms, just letting me hug her as she shivers. I push aside the tightness in my own chest, my own fear and loss for a moment. I can deal with my own issues later.

The next morning, I spot Richard as he drives up with the truck. He whistles and the puppies dash out from the back, looking to start clambering onto the truck bed. Time to go hunting.

�Why am I here again?� I whisper to Richard as I survey the boardroom a few days later. He grimaces and kicks me under the table and I sigh, leaning back. Fine. He�s right.

�We cannot keep adding citizens to our population. As it stands, non-combatant personnel are receiving a daily allocation of 1,400 calories which is significantly below what is recommended and we�ll need to drop that to a 1,000 calories next week once the last of the perishables are used up. Worst, a significant portion of that comes via protein intake as that is our most reliable food source,� Miranda states, leaning forwards and eyeballing both Richard and me. Mikito has run-off, citing the need to continue training new combat classers and she even managed to drag Lana with her this time. That means the two of us have to take the brunt of the meeting. �Until we get our first harvest in, we just don�t have enough vegetables and fruits.�

�Are you saying we should leave them in the wild?� Norman speaks from the corner, peering at Miranda over steepled fingers.

�Well, we can�t take them here,� Miranda states again and adds. �Unless the hunters are willing to give up a larger percentage of their earnings, we just don�t have the resources.�

Jim shakes his head as the other hunters start speaking up behind him, a low-voiced grumble that he cuts off, �We�re already contributing over 30% of our Credits. We need the Credits to get better equipment and better skills.�

�How about the Raven�s Circle and Richard�s group?� Minion adds, staring at Nic and Richard. �As far as I know they don�t contribute to the city at all.�

�That is not true,� Nicodemus rumbles. Even talking softly, it comes out as almost a shout as the half-Giant continues, �We provide 10% of all our earnings. It is smaller in percentage, but as we fight more powerful enemies, in total the Circle provide more Credits than any other group.�

�And we spend every other day currently training up your combat classers so that they can gain some levels and become useful,� Richard adds, tapping his fingers on the ground. �We�ve already had one full hunting party graduate and they now add to the food supply and Credits.�

�Yet you don�t supply the city with any Credits at all,� Minion presses.

�We need that money to upgrade ourselves! You�ve requested that the Circle and us hunt down the Bosses, how the hell are we supposed to do that without better equipment?� Richard states, glaring at him. �The last time we met one, we nearly died. You can�t expect us to fight, train your people and look for others while giving up all our Credits. The Circle doesn�t do any training at all!�

�That�s because we are busy hunting the Boss monsters,� snaps Nicodemus. �We aren�t waiting to level up like you guys.�

Fred speaks up, looking from group to group, �Please, let�s not get personal. We are all here to work together for the City.� As the participants all settle down, he adds. �Now, I know we are asking a lot from our premier parties, but as Miranda has stated, we desperately need more food. A 1,000 Calories is insufficient. We are here to work together on this matter.�

�How about asking Roxley?� I ask. I can feel my stomach clench at the idea of reducing food to the population even more. As it stands, those of us who have combat classes and are fighting are already looking significantly healthier than the general populace. I can just imagine what it�d be like if we had to put them on starvation diets and the kind of unrest it would cause.

�Well�� Fred pauses, looking around.

�Why would he help?� says Minion and I see a few heads nod.

�Well, for one thing, he�s taxing anything we buy in the Shop right now. If there�s a tax, there should be services,� I say and then shrug. �He�s also not going to want us to starve to death.�

�I don�t like it,� mutters one of the councilors, a pinched face portly gentlemen. �He�s an interloper.�

�He�s taxing us already whether or not you like it. We should be talking to him about this, not excluding him from these meetings,� I shoot back, glaring at them.

�That would give his government legitimacy,� Minion snaps and shakes his head. �We won�t do it.�

�Then people will starve,� I say, crossing my arms and glaring at him.

Voices rise again, some people calling for us to talk to Roxley, others like Minion refusing to do so. In the end, Fred has to hammer his hand on the table repeatedly to get us to shut up. �Enough. Mr. Lee has put forward that we speak with Lord Roxley about the food situation. Do we have a seconder?�

Richard backs me up quickly but we lose the vote and I growl, shaking my head. Idiots. The fight starts again about how we�re going to fund the purchase of additional foodstuff from the Shop, everyone refusing to give up a little bit of the pie.

I fall silent, watching as Fred wheedles, cajoles and pleads with everyone, finally getting the Circle to agree to help out with training and reducing the time we spend training to twice a week. It�ll give us more time to hunt and earn money, but that means we take a 10% contribution. I�m still not happy about this, but what can you do? Until the local economy recovers, we�re reliant on the System to provide the carbohydrates and vegetables needed for survival.

Once that particular fight is over, another one begins as the argument about what next to buy in terms of buildings. I grunt, shaking my head and sink further into the chair. This part I really hate and I so only pay partial attention, letting the arguments wash over me.

�John?� Richard says again and I blink, realizing I�ve been zoned out for a while. He sighs, shaking his head and stands up and I realize we�re nearly alone. Everyone else has left and I grunt, standing with him. �You know, you really should pay more attention.�

�Yeah, yeah,� I say and wave my hands. �It�s all bullshit really. They need to be talking to Roxley.�

�I know John, but you got to admit, it sticks in the craw that he�s the Lord of the city just because he bought it from the System,� Richard points out as we walk out of the school boardroom.

I nod at his words, letting my eyes wander over the inhabitants of the school and trying not to wrinkle my nose too much. Washing in the river is both dangerous and cold and so few people go down often enough and with so many crowded into the hallways, the smell lingers. As we walk through the hallways, we attract quite a bit of whispered attention. More than one woman shoots Richard an admiring glance, flashing smiles at him that he returns.

�Richard,� a young lady, probably no more than 18 and wearing a pair of tight pants comes up to him, placing a hand on his chest. �Will you be coming by tonight? Or I can come over��

�Tonight? I�m ummm� busy,� Richard says as he stops.

�That�s okay, I�m willing to share,� she smiles at him again and then runs a hand through her hair. �I can meet you at your house��

Richard looks at her for a moment, eyes raking her body and then he nods jerkily, �Sure�� She grins, going on tiptoes and kissing him on the lips before dropping down and moving away. Richard stares at her sway away before looking at me and my raised eyebrow. �Hey, it�s the end of the world. And she�s� nice.�

�Uh huh,� I mutter and wave him on.

He chuckles, looking at me and shakes his head, �If you didn�t glower at everyone all the time, you might have some better luck.�

�No time Richard,� I mutter, waving out. �We�ve got monsters to kill, skills to train and people to help.�

�Still no reason not to have fun,� Richard says.

I just grunt in answer. He�s right and yet, the idea of engaging in those kinds of conversations, of talking to someone and building a connection, of even just having those kinds of interactions makes me twitch. I just don�t have the energy or desire to do so, not right now. Sex might be nice, but there�s so much to do. Maybe later, when I have time.

As we exit the school, we glance around. No Mikito yet, so we�re on our own. Richard grins slightly at that, waving goodbye to me to work his emotions out. I watch him leave and watch again as he�s surrounded in moments by others and I shake my head. Well, he�s got his own thing to do.

I�ve got monsters to hunt. I�ve wasted enough hours listening to inane chatter. Time to go do something useful, work out some anger and some of this energy. I still need more Credits, especially if I want to buy some of the things I�ve been eyeing. I send a mental call for Ali, pulling him back from wherever he is and getting on Sabre. Perhaps I�ll try the area around Fox Lake today.

�Down!� I shout, bringing my rifle to bear. Mikito ducks, giving me the opening I am looking for and I open up, tearing a hole in the lizard creature she is fighting. She stands up, spinning the naginata as she does to get momentum and slams the blade into the creatures side, opening another wound and moving forwards to target their leader. I move to the left, breaking from the circle in hopes of getting a shot. To my side, three of the puppies are nipping at the creature that Richard glued to the ground, tearing into its legs as Richard unloads shot after shot into the lizardman.

�Right boy-o,� snaps Ali and I duck and spin, bringing my rifle to target the third lizardman that rises from the ground, snarling at me. I blast it in its face and watch the creature stagger back before I put one last shot into it and wince as a notification shows that I�ve got 2 shots left.

�Left!� Ali shouts and I spin, calling my sword into being and letting the creature run itself onto it. My momentum lets me tear the sword halfway through it before I finish and then I boot the dying lizardman away, making the sword disappear as I let it go and grab my rifle looking for more trouble.

Even before I can bring my rifle to bear, a pair of dogs tear into the last remaining lizardman that has shown itself and I breathe a sigh of relief. I look around, breathing fast and as always, glad that the helmet filters the smells of combat away from me and find nothing.

�We�re good!� Richard calls out and I let out a low exhalation as Mikito relaxes too, bending down to begin looting. As an official party, we don�t have assigned bodies to loot so Mikito and I just loot everything while Richard and his puppies keep watch.

�Damn invaders,� Richard mutters staring at the lizards. I can�t help but wonder if they were sentient like the Ogres. If they had come on purpose or were just caught up in the transfer. Perhaps they were here because they had sold themselves to the System like Ali. The System was unforgiving in such cases but it always had a use for you.

Once we finish, we get moving again with Richard driving and Mikito in the back while I range ahead. We�re headed to one of the smaller communities today, hoping to find some survivors. I don�t hold much hope for that but we�ve got to try.

An hour later we finally reach the series of rundown houses that make up this community. I look around, at the shattered doors and windows and even one torn down wall and I shake my head slightly. Small communities are hardest hit - too remote to make it to Whitehorse by foot, too few to mount a proper defense against larger predators, no access to the Shop. This is the third community we�ve visited in the last week and once again, it looks like no one is around.

Richard whistles and the puppies move out, searching while Ali turns around, scanning. If there are living humans around, they most likely learnt a Stealth ability of some form which means Ali�s System scanning might not bring them up. Thus the puppies.

They spread out and after a few minutes, the black Husky called Shadow barks. I blink, swinging my head in the direction of the noise. It only takes a few moments for Richard to discern what is going on and then we are moving, weapons drawn and on foot to follow the puppy into the forest. Looks like we might actually find someone.

Two hours of pushing through the forest and one brief encounter later, we are halfway up a mountain and coming close to a stream. I frown, tilting my head to the side as I catch a whiff of something and one of the puppies is barking at it. A brief investigation indicates that humans are living around here and they need more fibre in their diet.

Our first indication that something is out there is the voice, calling out to us. �Stop or I�ll shoot!�

We freeze and look around, Mikito crouching low as the puppies let out a low snarl. They hold though at Richard�s command and after a moment I spot the barrel of the rifle poking out at us and the head of the man behind it. Balding, white and squinting at us, the weapon he�s using is probably a .56 calibre.

�Easy there friend,� Richard calls out behind me and I can hear the smile in his voice. �We�re not here to harm you. We�re actually here to bring you to Whitehorse where everyone�s gathering and it�s safer.�

�I ain�t trusting you,� the man waggles the rifle barrel again. Even as he speaks, Ali darts past him into the cave, invisible to the naked eye. �You guys just get going. I�m fine here.�

�Well, we won�t force you. But perhaps you can ask your friends?,� Richard continues behind me and I mentally sigh. Yeah, he�s not the only holdout we�ve run into - people who are too distrustful, too scared to come. We can�t force them, but sometimes, I 'think we should.

�Ain�t no one else here. Now you best get going, you�re drawing attention,� the man answers again curtly.

�John, he�s not alone. There�s a pair of women in here and a couple of children. You better get in here,� Ali sends to me and I frown beneath my helmet.

I step forward, hands held out to my side, �Look, we got it. We do have some food to spare though, so if you let me just drop it off, we�ll be on our way. Got some ready meals that you could use and even some chocolate.�

I can see Mikito tense at that, crouching lower as she eyes the rifle. Richard behind me falls silent, watching me walk forward even as the gun barks and a stone shatters next to me.

�I said stop!� the voice goes higher, sounding a bit more panicked.

�Yeah, sorry, sorry. Thought I�d make it easier for you. One second,� I bend down, pulling some of my ready-meals from my inventory and placing them on the ground. �Here, just going to grab the chocolate�� I mutter and as I see him relax slightly, I move.

Before the System, I hated running. I was never good at it and my knee always ached when I ran on pavement. Too short, too slow, too untrained to really be good at it. Now though, now I could move. I cover the forty feet that separates us in less than a blink, his reflexive shot missing me. He doesn�t get a second as I grab the rifle, pulling it aside and then grab him, lifting him from the concealed entrance with one hand. He gurgles as I hold him up by one hand, and as he tries to kick me, I slam him into the cliff and make my sword appear in my hand, holding it against his neck.

�Mikito, Richard. He�s not alone. Check the cave,� I bark, staring at him. I idly slap his hand aside as he attempts to go for the knife at his side. �Stop it.�

I keep an eye on the man and the surroundings idly while the noise of the two moving into the cave ahead of me comes. After a moment, Richard starts cursing and then cuts himself off. I blink, frowning and then Ali comes floating back up to me.

�What�s going on Ali?� I ask the Spirit.

�Goblin-shit here thought to play king of the mountain. Unfortunately, it looks like his subjects didn�t agree and he�s been, well, lording it over them,� Ali spits to the side as he glares at the man. The man in turns looks at me speaking to thin air and his eyes widen further.

�Do I want details?� I say softly, a tightness in my stomach.

�No,� Ali says and I nod. I look at the man, considering if I should kill him now or leave it for his subjects�

Mikito walks out, looks to me and then without a word flicks her naginata at the man. It catches just above my arm, slicing through the lower half of his jaw. I reflexively jerk and then throw the man away, glaring at her as I shake the blood off. She doesn�t even spot me doing so as she�s headed back in.

�Fuck�� I snarl, considering going in or not but as Richard comes out, he shakes his head. Right, not our place for now. I stare at the twitching body and I snarl slightly, walking away from the cave entrance to keep an eye out. Fuck. The world ends and people go all Lord of the Flies.

It takes hours before Mikito comes out with the other survivors, hours for us to make our way back to the vehicles. We have to deal with one predator in-between, drawn to the smell of blood and Richard has to send the puppies and me out to deal with threats on our walk back. Mikito stays next to the women, helping them along as Richard plays close-quarter guard.

It�s more hours before we get back to Whitehorse and all through the journey, silence is all we get from the kids. When I tried to offer them some chocolate, they flinch from me. There is a look in their eyes, a knowledge that should never be there that makes me wince and the rage boil in my stomach.

When we get back to Whitehorse, we drop the survivors off with the Council. Richard explains while Mikito stays close by, the women unwilling to let her go as yet. I watch from my seat, unable to do anything, feeling useless.

Finding survivors was supposed to be a good thing, a victory. I don�t feel particularly victorious right now.

�You�re my group?� I stare at the small number of wannabe-combat classers who are part of my team today. I look them up and down, the short Filipino father, the pair of gym junkies who look tough but haven�t even leveled yet and the single lady of the group with a cat t-shirt and short blonde hair. I get nods from them all and I flick my gaze over the weapons they carry, a mixture of loaned rifles and scavenged bats and axes.

�Right, those of you with rifles. You know how to shoot right?� I make sure and get confirming nods from the two gym rats and the lady. The Filipino just shakes his head and I grimace, pointing a finger at him. �Keep your finger off the trigger. Don�t raise the gun until you get a clear shot. That means no one in your way.� Turning to the girl, I pull my rifle off my shoulder and hand it to her. �Doesn�t have kickback. I expect it back.�

She nods gratefully and I notice one of the guys shift on his feet, opening his mouth to say something and then deciding against it. Good.

�Rules are simple. I�m in front, you guys are behind. We�re going to head through Long Lakes and hunt for low-level monsters for you to fight. While we are out, I expect you to be working on moving silently and quietly - and when we�re done today, I expect you to continue practising that. The Stealth skill will keep you alive if you ever have to hunt. Stay behind me, listen to me or Ali and wait for me to give you the go-ahead to attack. If I say run, you run back to the last point I told you to wait or the school. Got it?� I wait for confirming nods before I turn and head in, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to get rid of my tension. I really don�t want to be doing this, not today, but we promised.

The first few hours are the usual, slow-going and boring for me though not for the newbies. They scream, throw up, run and on one occasion nearly shoot one another as we deal with the low-level monsters around here. Mostly, the throwing up is when I make them butcher the carcasses and put the bodies in their bags to carry, getting more than one dirty look since I don�t help.

We�re coming up to the three-quarter mark of their training session when I turn to them. �Right, time to pay up. If you don�t know how think about sharing the inventory to me.� It takes a few seconds before the first few trade offers are made, but one of the gym rats crosses his arms, shaking his head. �What is it?�

�No. You didn�t do shit. You just walked around with us, let us do all the killing and then you�re going to take our stuff. No way,� gym rat says and I look up at his Status bar, reading the information.

�Okay, then Peter. You can go now,� I state and wave him away as I confirm acceptance of the other trades. His friend hesitates, looking between the two of us. �You too if you don�t want to pay.�

�What do you mean, go?� Peter bristles.

�Go. Leave. Head home,� I wave again, grinning at him savagely. �Take a walk through the woods.�

�Fine, I will,� Peter turns and then takes a few steps back from where we came. He frowns, pausing and then looks around. We�re a few hills past Whitehorse and since we�ve been following Ali�s directions, we�ve been off-trail from the very beginning. He frowns, staring around as he tries to figure out which way to go.

I ignore him, turning to the two who have paid me, �Right. So, we�re going to keep going for another hour��

�Hey man, you can�t leave Peter out here,� his friend says, already sending over his own payment. I accept before shrugging.

�All of you knew the deal before we came out. He wants to break it, he can figure out how to get home himself,� I state and then nod. �Right, this way.�

As we start walking, Peter follows and I turn to him pointing in the direction we came from. �You�re not following us. Go.�

�You can�t stop me!� Peter smirks at me. Patience gone, I cross the distance between us and shove him ever so slightly. He flies backwards a few feet, rolling over his shoulders before coming to a stop. He coughs a bit and I idly note he�s lost a few hit points while he struggles up.

�You want to play games? I can play games. Keep following me and I�ll break both your legs and leave you here,� I snarl and point a finger at him.

�You can�t�� the Filipino man looks at me, shaking his head. �That�s not right.�

�Neither is he stiffing me. He wants to be an ass, so can I,� I snap. �Except I�ve been going out, fighting while you guys sat around so I�m a much better asshole than you guys.�

Peter�s friend has rushed over to him, whispering to the man. Peter snarls, pulling himself up but his friend pushes against him, whispering again. To the side, the lady has moved away to watch, the rifle slung down low and not pointed at anyone. Eventually, Peter sends me a notification and I look it over, accepting the loot.

�This way then,� I point again and start walking, Ali watching the group for me. Fucking little shits.

Chapter 16

Life falls into a routine. One day on training, one day hunting and another looking for survivors. The city slowly comes back to life though I guess you can�t really call us a city - more a small town now. Either way, the news of the the boss monster fight spreads quickly and everyone begins to work harder. It�s strange, that the constant harrying attacks of the spawning monsters did nothing but the potential that we might actually face a horde of monsters galvanises the population. They begin to take an active interest in their life again, actively attempting to level themselves, to build themselves up. Roxley hires builders from within the community and they begin to construct stone walls at the three natural choke points that surround the city.

We�ve not made much more progress in finding other human settlements. The few further settlements North of us that we�ve journeyed to have had scattered survivors, the vast majority hiding in cracks and dodging monsters as best they can. None refuse our offer of moving down to Whitehorse, which makes Roxley happy at least.

Roxley comes through on the second invitation and I found that speaking with him was easy, he never had any expectations and he gave as good as he got, providing me information about the System and how it affected the wider world around us. Afterwards, we retired to his private workout room where he deigned to give me a few pointers on my sword technique. Somehow, celebratory dinners and after-dinner training sessions with the sword become a routine thing after each successful rescue.

One of the survivors actually becomes the fourth in our small party, a female mage named Rachel Martin. If it weren�t for the scar that cuts down the left side of her face, her dark hair, high cheekbones and dark brown eyes would have the boys clustering around her. Unfortunately, the scar and her refusal to have it removed at the Shop along with a hundred-yard stare seems to keep all but the bravest young men away. It�s Mikito who insists she join us, making a point that Rachel�s safer with us than going out alone as she threatened. Truth be told, after our first day out, I�m glad to have her on our side. She specialises in earth magic, combining moving sheaths of earth with warping the greenery around us to create effective barriers and weapons.

As for myself, I can�t help but feel frustrated at my lack of progress after nearly a month of training. I have barely made any progress with expanding my understanding of my Elemental Affinity, snatching a few minutes here and there to work on my connection. I can now find it within 5 minutes of intense concentration which is a big improvement, but until I can actually grasp the connection instinctively, I can�t even begin to work on additional spells.

I have improved my overall Mana Manipulation though, even if it has come at the cost of my pride and self-esteem. I probably could have progressed that faster, if I could stand to deal with the teacher Lana found for me for longer than 20 minutes in a row. Unfortunately, even with the death of the world, hipsters have managed to survive. The only good thing I can about the man-bun wielding mage Adley is that he�s not part of the Raven�s Circle. Sadly, he�s still the best option to learn since he somehow has a better understanding of how to manipulate mana than anyone else in the community.

In fact, working with Manbun, I�ve been able to improve my Mana Dart and Minor Healing spells to send a second dart and heal more respectively, though neither are spells I�d care to use in the middle of a fight. As a backup, I�ve also picked up a single, area effect spell, though it drains a ton of my mana. I haven�t had to actually use it in a do-or-die situation, though my one test a grouping of yellow gremlin-like creatures was more than satisfactory. Satisfactory for me anyway � Rachel proceeded to show me what a real mage could do a moment later by pin-point attacking the remaining creatures with a single earth spike spell.

So much has changed, but I�m still stuck, just a short distance away from finally unlocking my class skills. We�re no closer to figuring out how to speed up my acquisition of a new title, but at least we should have a lock-on the level minimum for being a Guild Leader soon.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

710

Stamina

710

Mana

570

Status

Normal

Attributes

Strength

48 (50)

Agility

66 (70)

Constitution

71 (75)

Perception

Intelligence

57 (60)

Willpower

57 (60)

Charisma

Luck

Skills

Stealth

Wilderness Survival

Unarmed Combat

Knife Proficiency

Athletics

Observe

Cooking

Sense Danger

Jury-rigging

Explosives

Blade Mastery

PAV Combatics

Energy Rifles

Meditation

Mana Manipulation

Energy Pistols

Dissembling

Erethran Blade Mastery

Lip Reading

Class Skills

None (7 Locked)

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (I)

Improved Mana Dart (I)

Lightning Strike

Perks

Spirit Companion

Level 14

Prodigy (Subterfuge)

N/A

The last skill still makes me smile slightly. I�d accidentally stumbled onto it while waiting for Richard to arrive one morning. Increased perception meant I could easily see Lana�s lips while she and Mikito were talking, and I might have been staring a little much. It still made me feel strange to have gained such a skill, but it has come in use more than once when I�ve been dragged into the City Council deliberations.

We�ve managed to kill over a half dozen Boss monsters, but it never gets easier. No matter how much we level, it�s never enough. Monsters slowly increase outside of our immediate vicinity, forcing us to range further and further in search of the Boss monsters, leaving us exposed. Multi-day trips are now not uncommon and the strain is beginning to wear on all of us.

As Lana said so long ago, it�s all about Credits. There�s not enough of it, especially when the only decent source of income is monster slaying. As much as I want to be out hunting, today the first order of business is a damn city council meeting. Thankfully, the council has gotten its act together for the most part, though I still worry about their interaction � or lack thereof � with Roxley. We could do so much more if they�d just work with him instead of trying to make everything work around him. Unfortunately, the fact that we managed to get past the food shortage seems to have bolstered their belief that they can manage without interacting with Roxley. Frustratingly, he doesn�t seem to want to push the issue either, content to rake in his taxes from the Shop and leaving us to self-govern ourselves.

If we get out in time, we�ve got a supply run to finish to Carcross. The town finally managed to pool enough Credits together to buy it from the System a few days ago but Shop supplies still have to come through Whitehorse. At least until they save enough to purchase permanent Shop access in the town itself.

Walking out of my room, I nod to my party as we gather around the kitchen table as is our custom. Bacon, eggs and pancakes in large quantities litter the table � a side effect of our increased constitution is an increased calorie consumption. Even now, with food supplies stabilized, I notice most combat classers don�t eat in the cafeteria. Putting away as much food as we do gets more than one dirty look. Flashing the team a quick smile, I take a moment to review their Status Bars.

Mikito Sato (Level 30 Samurai)

HP: 470/470

Richard Pearson (Level 27 Beast tamer)

HP: 210 / 210

Lana Pearson (Level 25 Beast tamer)

HP: 230/230

Rachel Martin (Level 26 Mage)

HP: 220/220

We�ve slowed down significantly in terms of gaining Levels - our other responsibilities and the need to actually work on our skills means we aren�t fighting as much as we could be. It doesn�t help that we barely get any experience from fighting monsters around Whitehorse anymore - it�s only creatures in higher zones that worth anything. On the other hand, we did get Lana to come out on a few hunting trips with us which has resulted in small increases in her level. Richard found the trick to that one by pointing out that her pets were fast becoming pudgy little creatures through lack of proper exercise.

Fighting at higher levels has required a change in tactics and gears though. All of my party members are now clad in real armour, lightweight bodysuits like the one I wear but with even more armor plating than mine. It doesn�t hinder their movements and gives them a layer of added protection with the goal of getting them even better armour eventually. So far, Mikito has refused to buy a helmet like the other two, saying it restricts her field of vision too much.

Breakfast is an efficient if friendly affair, conversation held to the minimum as we get ready for our days. Lana is fast becoming a player in the local scene, though so far, her presence on the City Council has not been requested. I still can�t pin down if she�s happy or upset by this, but as she manages both my residence, her loan business and the pooled resources of the group, she has significant say in the city anyway.

We take our trucks and Sabre into town via Alsek and Lewes, the trip giving us full view of the school and the suburbs. In the last month, the houses near ours have started acquiring residents even though we�re not in the most convenient location. I guess Lana�s ranging pets help keep the overall incident of random spawnings down. Each ranch style residence is packed, anywhere from twelve to fifteen people living in each house, but they are the lucky ones. With the municipal water system back in play, the residences have basic hygiene facilities and are significantly less crowded than the schools. At night, volunteers keep an eye out for more spawnings in shifts, a post-apocalyptic neighborhood watch.

The unlucky or unmotivated remainder still live on the school grounds, under guard by volunteer fighters and Roxley�s men, still cramped in classrooms, hallways, gyms and offices. Mana-fueled stoves have been supplied to the main cook areas, though individual camp stoves can still be seen in use on occasion.

As we cross the bridge, the work on the park-turned-farm across the bridge continues. The first mana-fueled harvest has already been taken in and the next crop has been started, the farmers weeding and watering. As we drive by, I can see smiles of joy crossing more than one face on the workers. Everything grows faster and more aggressively under the System and the last harvest was amazing. In fact, as I understand it, they expect an even better harvest next time.

Pulling up to the building that the City Council has taken over right opposite Roxley�s building, I watch as Mikito and Richard clamber out of the truck. Rachel shakes her head, detouring to spend some time window-shopping at the Shop as she�s not invited, already pulling a cigarette from her pocket. From the number of vehicles outside, it looks like we�re one of the last to arrive. Luckily, most people aren�t that particularly bothered by things like that anymore � after all, most time-keeping devices have gone on a fritz. Inside, we move to our customary seats and I put my feet on the board table, half-closing my eyes as Richard and Mikito move to mingle. Even hindered by her incomplete English, Mikito�s still more of a social butterfly than I am.

Underneath half-lidded eyes, I read lips, flicking from conversation to conversation as I dismiss idle gossip and pleasantries, my lips twisting in a half-smile. Yeah, I might not want to be here but there�s no reason I can�t learn something. This time around, I learn nothing of import before Fred and his entourage enters to bring the meeting to order.

�In conclusion, food stores continue to hover at the 2-day mark. While the hunters have been able to bring in higher number of animals due to their level increases, many of these animals are not as suitable for mass cooking. As per the Council�s decision, we have canned and stored a fifth of the most recent harvest which will provide a small vegetable surplus during the winter months but our projections show that we will need to purchase a minimum of 8,000 Credits worth of supplements. I again must request that the Council earmark these funds,� Battleaxe � Miranda Lafollet pronounces.

Fred thanks her for her presentation, pushing her request to another budget specific meeting while we continue the updates. The next by Minion is shorter as he�s not only purchased the ability to but spent the time learning, how to manipulate the System screens to send information direct to us. He instead just highlights the information we need on the buildings. I tune him out and not just because he�s nasally � I have learnt most of this in much more detail speaking with Roxley directly. We�ve purchased just over 30% of the land in Whitehorse as a group, with the parks-gardens and the community gardens taking up a major portion of that.

�Once again, I must insist that we purchase and upgrade the dam. We�ve been inspecting the dam for potential failures and while the spillway and emergency releases continue to function as designed, the potential for damage is significant. In addition, purchasing the mana engine and upgrades required would provide us a consistent energy source which will be important during the winter,� Minion concludes and I have to admit, he has a point.

Nic taps at his screen for a moment and then with a frustrated sigh, swipes it away and leans forward, �For those of us who weren�t here, how much is that going to set us back?�

�350,000 Credits,� drawls one of the other councilors � Norman Blockwell. He doesn�t speak often, but when he does, most people listen. Nic chokes at the number, eyes widening further as Norman continues, �Just for the structure.�

Fred raps his hand on the table, stopping any further discussion and nods to Jim. Jim stands, looks around and says, �We�ve got nearly three hundred hunters now, about half of them on rotating guard duty. Roxley has half of those on his payroll keeping an eye on the roadways. Two thirds of my group are in the low-teens in levels, the rest below that except for my three strike groups who are above level 20. �Course that doesn�t include the Circle, John�s Group or the Brothers of the Wolf.�

The Brother�s grin and I swear, the two kids who represent them almost look like they are about to howl. Kid is the right term too since the entire group is in their late teens. I�m both extremely proud of the kids and rather perturbed at their inclusion � they are our first true success of the babysitting program but they are still kids. They�ve been throwing every Credit they�ve made into upgrading their equipment and themselves which didn�t sit well with Fred. So, he got them to contribute to the city by bribing them with a seat on the table.

The conversation drones on, going on about less important to me subjects. Non-combat characters are working on their levels and skills quite well and the stuff they�ve been producing has actually started getting good enough that our combat classers will actually use them directly. It�s helping to keep some of the Credits we make in the local economy.

I tap my fingers on the table, trying to distract myself as they drone on and on. Fuck, but I hate this shit.

�And that is everything on the agenda,� Fred smiles at all of us. �Great job everybody.�

Thank god�

�The Raven�s Circle would like to bring an expedition to Dawson City to the table again,� Luthien speaks, flashing a smile at everyone at the table and I do my best to suppress a groan. An elbow by Richard to my side tells me I am not as successful as I thought. �Dawson City is the most likely location in the Yukon for a large group of survivors. We have abandoned them without access to the Shop for over a month now. There have been no supplies, no survivors who have traveled from there. If we are to help them, it has to be soon.�

Luthien leans forward, her voice urgent with need, �The Circle is willing to risk the journey, but we can�t do it alone. We need more volunteers, more supplies, more help. Are you willing to abandon them to their fate?�

When she finishes, the room erupts in discussion. I groan, burying my head in my hands as everyone has something to say. Fuck me sideways, we�re not getting out of this room for hours.

My guess is just about correct as it�s well past lunch before we finally exit the room. The Council is deadlocked, our resources spread thin but the call of a rescue tugging at heart strings. I let Richard do the talking for us since my history with Luthien is well-known by now. Better to keep out of it, since we strongly oppose the idea. It�s a 7-hour drive to Dawson City pre-System on a good-day and there aren�t any good days anymore.

We find Rachel sitting on the bed of her truck, working on a spell while waiting with one hand, an unlit cigarette in the other. Mikito, who snuck out the moment the Dawson City discussion broke out, is going through forms next to her. I pull a liquid meal from my inventory as I walk up, waving to our waiting passengers as I eat a quick lunch. Richard makes a face as he sees what I�m doing but does the same, rapping on the truck to get Rachel�s attention. Where there�s space, the trucks are loaded with non-System supplies, mostly excess food and clothing though the vast majority of the supply run lie in the body of the passengers that join us. Using the System�s trans-dimensional inventory option makes supplying the town significantly simpler than before. No more giant trucks making daily trips. Of course, it comes with the added danger of losing all the inventory stored if the individual dies which is why they hire us.

�Constable,� I nod to Gadsby who is engrossed in his conversation with fellow ex-RCMP member Amelia. Gadsby has gone down the cybernetic route, a chrome left arm replacing a damaged limb rather than regenerating it and I have to admit, the look suits him. As I come close, they fall silent though what I lipread is intriguing.

�... not just me, Fred tried to Kevin and at last three others.�

Gadsby smiles at me, offering his hand as I straddle Sabre. Outside of the party, I�ve been able to keep her full abilities a secret, at least as far as I know. You never know when having your personal mecha in your back-pocket would be useful. �Good to have you on this run. Something was moving around Archer Lane, something about 30 feet long and blue. Looked like a weird lizard, snake hybrid with a horn coming out of its head. Gave us the shivers from the glimpses we saw.�

I glance over to my team, Richard is already in the driver�s seat and Mikito has taken her preferred place in the back with the huskies and his most recent acquisition, a foot-long pet turtle. Yeah, someone�s pet turtle mutated and now breathes fire and Richard just had to tame it when we found it on one of our rescue runs. In the other truck, Rachel sits behind the wheel as one of Gadsby�s men climbs in to play shotgun.

�We can handle it,� I assure him and roll my neck in my helmet. I touch the radio for a moment and speak to everyone, �Usual routine everybody. I�ll ride ahead, Richard you�re next, then the trucks from Carcross. Rachel, you bring up the rear. We run when we can, we fight when we have to. I make the calls. Ali�s in charge if I can�t, then Mikito, Richard, Gadsby and Rachel. If we�re all dead, the rest of you are fucked.�

�Real inspiring boy-o,� smirks Ali as he spins next to me in all his 2-foot glory. He gets a few snorts of laughter at his comments which of course makes him preen. Unfortunately, a side-effect of my increased levels is Ali�s growing ability to interact with the world. He can stay visible without effort now and with a push, even physically effect the world. He�s also got very, very limited access to his Affinity, which thus far he�s mostly been using to play practical jokes with. Making a person blind after they get hit on the head in the middle of the fight is not funny, no matter how hard you laugh. Asshole.

Once I get everyone�s acknowledgement, we roll out.

The trip to Carcross is pretty quiet at first. Regular hunting by Jim�s teams have reduced the number of hostile monsters near the city significantly, so for the first thirty minutes, the drive is almost peaceful. When we hit the Cutoff, we make the customary stop-off at the fort to switch control around to give his people a little experience boost before I take it back.

The Hakarta � a race of mercenary space orcs - are still an anomaly, their original presence at the Cutoff a strange blip in the radar. It�s just another thing to worry about, but since no one has attempted to take the Cutoff by force in the month I�ve had control of it, it�s a concern for another day. Experience farming completed, I depart first to scout ahead. It�s a ten-minute drive to where Gadsby�s spotted his monster and I intend to take it slow.

Gadsby is correct, there is something in the woods. He was incorrect on the number though, there being a couple. I�m a good 300 hundred yards distant, watching them through the scope in my helmet as they move around in a dip in the road. Considering the creatures have managed to fell power lines across the road in the time since Gadsby has come through, I can�t decide if they are either sentient or just lucky.

Xu�dwg�hkkk Beast (Level 44)

HP: 2380/2380

Behind me, I can hear Richard pulling to a stop, the rest of the convoy a little further back. Mikito hops off the back the moment the truck stops, that disturbing smile already making an appearance. Her naginata levels against one and I nod absently, exhaling as I pull the trigger of my rifle. The flash and hit happen almost instantaneously, my target shrugging the beam off without seeming to be injured. I trigger another shot soon after with the same pitiful results but this time, I notice the way the energy seems to disperse around the skin, concentrating on the horn.

Shit. I throw myself aside a second before the creature returns fire, the shot disappearing off into the horizon due to the slight upward angle the creature has to shoot from. I drop the rifle into my inventory with practised ease and start running to the side of the road, looking to split the two creatures attention and take it away from Sabre. Fighting without her in mecha mode always sucks but I�m pretty sure we can handle it.

Richard spots the difficulty almost immediately and lets out a whistle, signaling Bella, Max and Shadow, the huskies to join the fray even as the turtle � Elsa - trundles off the truck. I doubt Elsa is going to make it there in time, but she always tries. She�s our heavy hitter if something charges us, though we do our best to ensure she isn�t needed.

Bella and Shadow are clad in newly made bone-armor taken from a loot drop picked up by the Brothers. The entire armoring project is where Richard�s funds have been focused in the last month. The bones have been shaped to fit the dogs, covering their body and the crown of their heads, gleaming a dull red. Whatever creature it was that the Brothers of the Wolf killed, it must have been a tough fight as the bones themselves are harder than steel but significantly lighter pound for pound.

Mikito is running at an angle to her target so that it can�t get a good shot, occasionally switching directions. The moment it gets within fifty yards, Mikito changes direction again and sprints directly to it, activating her latest ability. A flicker of fire engulfs her and she accelerates, a fiery homing missile that slams into the creature at an angle and staggers it. She doesn�t stop though, unleashing a flurry of blows with another skill that she calls the Thousand Cuts.

I don�t have time to pay attention to her fight anymore since my opponent has charged up its horn again, using the leftover energy to send another sizzling blast to strike at me. This time, I don�t get out of the way completely and catch a touch of it on my leg, causing muscles to clench in agony. I hit the ground and roll, crouched over with a hand splayed before me as the monster charges me with intent to gore.

A screech is all the creature has time to hear before Orel lands, smashing into the monster at an angle, throwing the creature�s momentum entirely off even as claws dig into eyes. The Huskies arrive moments later, tearing into flesh and bone as the monster is distracted. Thankfully, the puppies haven�t grown larger, though the constant hunting and leveling has given them new gifts. Bella bites and rips, her jaws encased in a metal that crushes through the monster�s thick hide like it�s nothing. Next to her, Max blurs as he jumps back to avoid a clawed foot, moving so fast that for a brief second, he almost seems to be in two places at once. Shadow is most disturbing of all, as its very shadow joins in on the attack, tearing into the monster�s body and gulping down raw flesh into its dark throat. Leg recovered, I run in to join the fight, though really, I�m superfluous.

By the time Richard�s animals and I are done killing our oversized lizard, Mikito is finished with hers and is cleaning her naginata, all calm and collected. I shake my head at that sight, once again deeply thankful she is on our side. I�m a jack-of-all trades with the ability to take a ton of punishment but she�s just death on her feet if she can reach you.

We loot the body quickly but Ali warns us against eating the creature, one of the rare cases where eating it would be bad for us. I somehow don�t think his advice include Shadow�s shadow. We shove the bodies aside and clear the road to complete the quest in Carcross. The town is as busy as it always is, walls fully built and reinforced with carefully spaced lookouts and gun posts. Inside, children play in the streets under the idle supervision of teenagers as the entire town is now a safe zone. You can guess how happy that made Roxley and the City Council in Whitehorse to learn especially when people started asking to be moved there.

As we get ready to turn around after depositing the supplies, Elder Badger comes out. �John. We need a word.�

Seated around another board room table with the ubiquitous bowls of meat stew and bannock, we listen to the scout�s report on his findings. The room is now filled with maps, colour coded with various pins stuck through them and a giant white board with projects outlined. I glance at the maps, smiling slightly as I realise they are keeping track of which houses and subdivisions they�ve raided.

�Ali,� I shoot a look over at my Spirit when the scout runs dry, waiting for his assessment.

�No idea boss,� Ali states. �The way he reports it, it�s probably a monster lair that hasn�t become a dungeon yet. Leave it alone long enough though and it�ll become a full dungeon.�

There�s more than one stifled groan, Gadsby�s face drawing in a grim line.

�Ali, care to give more details on Dungeons? The notes I have are rather short � �Don�t. Just don�t� isn�t particularly useful,� I prod my Spirit for more information.

�That�s a pretty sound advice there boy-o,� Ali points out before he flashes a pair of fingers up, �There are two kinds of dungeons really. You�ve got the natural ones � places where monsters congregate or just mutate into because of the extremely high mana density. That�s what it sounds like the scout find. The Canada Games Centre would be such a place if those Circle members didn�t go into farm it so often. They�re the easiest to deal with, normally the monsters aren�t significantly more dangerous than the surrounding zone. Of course, if you leave them alone long enough, the monsters get more powerful and the mana itself will warp the space. Always better to deal with them before they become full dungeons.

�The second are temporary dungeons. Those are dimensional holes in space connecting two high mana areas together. Those generally aren�t very stable, and don�t always lead to dungeons. However, since most high mana hot spots are in existing dungeons, it�s a pretty good bet it�s a dungeon behind the glowing blue portal of doom. Most smart people don�t go in to those � since the locations are random, you never know what you�ll find. Of course, that means there are about a hundred or so Guilds dedicated to finding and jumping down those rabbit holes,� Ali spins a finger next to his head as he speaks before continuing. �Either way, temporary dungeons are bad because they start warping the areas around them as they shift the mana flows around both locations significantly.�

�Lastly, you have the System created ones. You know how your entire world is a dumping ground for mana for the galaxy? Well, on a smaller scale, System created dungeons in a city work the same. Mana is drawn out from the surroundings and focused into the dungeon, forcefully speeding up mutations and breeding in the dungeon and creating occasional rifts. That reduces the total mana flow in the city though which means that zones around the city lower too, eventually forcing bigger monsters out. System created dungeons are weird. Since most dungeon owners are too frigging lazy to manage the day-to-day operations, they purchase dungeon cores to handle it and those cores, well, they make some truly insane decisions sometimes.�

�You said two,� Jason points out.

�Bite me pimple face,� Ali retorts.

�Children!� Jason�s mum barks and the two fall silent, though not before Ali sticks his tongue out.

�John, I hate to ask this of you�� Andrea Badger starts and I look over at the old lady, actually look at her for once. She�s tired, so very tired and even with the rejuvenating properties of the System, she�s old.

Quest Received � Clear the Caves

Clear the caves found by the scout and report back to the Council of Carcross.

Rewards: 10,000XP

I look at her and then at the group, getting nods of confirmation from everyone. Including Jason who isn�t included and isn�t going to be considering the look his mum is giving me. It�s one thing to take the kid out for a stroll in the woods, another into an untested cave location against unknown monsters. I�m not that irresponsible.

Also, his mum scares me.

At night, we break up to catch some rest. Orel is sent off with a note to let Lana know that we�re staying the night and we quickly set-up a large tent to crash in our usual spot near the river. The eagle disturbs me - nothing outwardly has changed but I could swear it�s getting smarter.

It�s not our first night away from Whitehorse and the System purchased camping gear is much more convenient than anything we ever had as humans. Touch a button, you get a tent large enough to fit 6 normal sized humans or in our case, 4 humans and a turtle. The tent comes with internal heating controls, a humidifier and lighting.

The girls kick us out to get changed first and Richard and I manage to catch a few minutes alone. All around us, the town is quieting down as people get ready to sleep. In one stubborn corner of the camp, a small band entertains a few stragglers but overall, most people are turning in. There might still be light in the Yukon at midnight, but most still need their eight hours sleep.

Richard waves to me, heading off to see if he can pick up another young lady and I sigh, watching him go. I guess we all have our ways of coping and he doesn�t seem to be hurting anyone. Just a little secret I picked up from reading lips, but it seems he got himself chemically neutered in the Shop.

I watch him go for a moment before walking down to the water, lowering my bulk to the ground. One benefit of my high constitution and reconstructed genes � my sleep requirements have lowered drastically so unlike the others, I rarely sleep more than 4 hours a night. I can even make do on three without any major side effects which leaves me a lot of time. Alone, I raise my hand and pull out my latest light reading material � �A catalog of the types and peculiarities of System recognised classes by J.A. Ikyak�.

Chapter 17

As we hike up the mountain early in the morning, the trucks left behind on the road, I can�t help but listen to the conversations that my companions conduct as they catch up to me. Ali and Richard are talking about dungeons, delving into details that only the two of them could be interested in. Mikito and Rachel have paired up as well, the older woman taking the younger girl under her wing. It�s good for Mikito, having someone she can look out for � it gives her another purpose that doesn�t involve large-scale monster murder. She�s not healed, not by a long shot, but the reckless abandon seems to have muted a bit since Rachel has become part of the team.

Thankfully, the map the scout drew was pretty accurate so finding the cave should be little trouble. I have to watch myself to ensure I don�t outpace my friends, none of them having a Personal Assault Vehicle like me. Every once in a while, I bound ahead through the woods before stopping to wait for them to catch up, just enjoying the view while I wait. I don�t worry about potential threats, Richard�s pets are ranging out on all sides terrorising the local wildlife. The only one that says with him is Elsa since she wouldn�t be able to keep up otherwise.

Glacier capped mountains spread out around us, the snaking trail of the highway the only sign of civilization for miles. Summer in the Yukon has come and vibrant greenery assaults the eyes in the never-ending sunlight. In the distance, I spot the new lords of the sky � mutated storks, eagles and ravens are easy to recognise but scattered amongst them are more dangerous, exotic creatures that prey on them. Manticores, gryphons, a pair of snakelike creatures and in the far distance, what might be a drake.

�15 minutes,� I answer Rachel�s question to which she rolls her eyes.

�You said that twice before,� she rolls her eyes.

�15 minutes,� I just reply and flash her an unseen grin, turning around and bounding up the mountain. Away from my companions, I continue to enjoy the scenery. So easy to forget how beautiful a land we live in with the constant threat of monsters and sudden, brutal death. I pop open my helmet to inhale the fresh pine scent and can�t help but grin. Clear skies, beautiful scenery and mayhem in the future. What more could I ask for?

Thirty minutes later, the group finally makes it to the cave, Rachel having enough air in her lungs to curse me out further. I�ve been sensing the shift in mana flows for a while, a subtle shift in the way the world now works. No surprise that Rachel noticed it well before me. The cave opening itself is innocuous, carved out of the limestone by glacier water and still wet. Shining a light attached to my arm via Sabre into the opening gives us little additional information, just a gaping maw of darkness that sends shivers through my body.

�You should put a few more points in Constitution,� points out Mikito while looking pointedly at the pair. �Also, stop smoking.�

�Yes mum,� Rachel answers before pulling out a cigarette.

�Ali, scout it out?� I point to the cave entrance, looking at the foreboding darkness with a grimace.

�You do know I can�t see in the dark right?� Ali points out, waving his hand in. �I�m not picking anyone up though, so they�re definitely hiding.�

Can�t use the Quantum State Manipulator. It pulls me into a different plane, one that runs parallel to the world and doesn�t let me interact with this world till I drop-off. That�s great for running away or sneaking into areas, but when the cave is pitch black normally, it means that I�d be walking around in the dark. Night vision and Infrared on the helmet doesn�t really help either, none of those cross the dimensional planes properly unlike normal light. No, I don�t get why it�s that way. Ali tried explaining it once, but the moment he started pulling out charts and equations I decided I didn�t really need to know.

�Fine. Once Richard and Rachel get their breath back, we�re going in all together. Usual formation, Ali in front, me, Mikito, Rachel then Richard. Richard � keep Elsa with you. We�ve got no clue about the size of the cave, so it�s your call on the Huskies. Might be better to keep them all out here.�

Richard nods at my words, pursing his lips in thought. The increased size of the Huskies is very advantageous in combat, but it does mean they find maneuvering in tight confines more difficult. Going into the cave with a single pony sized puppy is going to be tough enough, three might be a bit much. I watch him silently debate his options before setting Bella and Max to guard and bringing Shadow along. Fair enough, I can deal with that.

I draw a deep breath once they are all ready, nodding to Ali and we step in. As we head in, the idle chit-chat falls away and we all focus on moving as silently as possible. We�re veterans of the apocalypse now, used to exploring our new world and killing the things that object, even if we do dumb things like check out monster lairs without backup. Unfortunately, calculated risk is the name of the game.

Ali floats ahead of us, glowing, as light from his body filling the cave as he taps into his Affinity. Behind him, I use secondary lights built into Sabre to provide additional illumination. At the back, both Rachel and Richard fish out chemical light sticks, tossing them along our path as we walk while Shadow ranges behind, marking his new territory with depressing regularity. A pony-sized dog comes with a pony-sized bladder.

One chamber to the next, Ali guides us without a word. Tension ratchets up as no attacks come and I find myself wanting something to come out to kill us. Another thing I never expected to be thinking.

When the attack comes, it comes from the side. The first blow smashes into Mikito, snapping her arm like a twig and throwing her into a nearby wall. I spin, sword flashing in the direction of Mikito�s attacker. However, my sword passes right through the body of her assailant and I stumble slightly at the lack of impact. In that time, the creature reforms and punches me in the chest, armor deforming under pressure and my body is thrown back.

In the couple of seconds that the creature reforms properly, I catch a glimpse of it. Five feet tall, humanoid with two arms and legs, the creature is covered in purple fur so dark, it might as well be black in this dim light. Even fully reformed, shadows wreathe creature and make it hard to see.

I hit the ground and roll, my sword falling to the ground before me. Mouth opening wide showing a double row of fangs, the creature lunges forward to me. I�m already recalling the blade and get it up in time for the creature to impale itself on my blade, sword guard holding the creature just far enough away for it not to bite my face off.

As I begin to twist my blade, it dissipates into shadow again, disappearing entirely. I snarl, spinning around searching for it. In the corner, Mikito has staggered upright, naginata held in her uninjured hand while Richard waves his shotgun around, searching for a target as he covers our backs. Rachel is moving deeper into the cave, whispering a spell under her breath.

Ali zooms back from where he was, eyes wide as he shouts, �I can�t track it!�

No shit. I figured out that much. I begin to move to my companions, chest aching from the single blow the creature landed, once again thankful for Sabre and the additional armor. Bloody hell, that thing was strong. As I near Mikito, I notice that her eyes aren�t actually focusing properly, her entire body held up from sheer force of will and training.

I�m perfectly positioned to see the creature reappear behind her, a clawed hand arcing to separate her head from her body. I�m too far and too slow to do anything about it, only able to watch as Mikito�s end comes in a graceful arc.

Shadow appears from the darkness, black coat and dull red bone armor blended into darkness as it rips into the creature, throwing its aim off just a little. The claw catches Mikito across the back of her neck, gouging out chunks of flesh in a spray of blood and dropping her to the ground. Even as Shadow worries the creatures leg, it begins to dissipate into the shadows again. A bad move as it screams as the husky�s shadow rips into its incorporeal form with glee. Our attacker shimmers for a brief moment, then its corpse re-emerges into the light before us.

Shadow Aspected Crilik Shifter (Level 36)

HP: 0/370

I barely glance at the body as I finally reach Mikito, casting my only healing spell immediately. Her voice reaching a crescendo, a flash of green originating from Rachel reaches out and illuminates the cave and, the three other of the creatures which have been attracted to the noise on the opposite side of her.

Nature�s Blessing Received

Effect: Increases regeneration rate by 23%

I stare at Mikito�s still body, a hand already pulling a bandage from inventory and slapping it across the open wound. The bandage spreads on impact, the pseudo-science mixture of human stem cells, mana infused plant webbing and high tech nanites working to stem the bleeding and fix the tear and failing. The flowing blood lessons but it doesn�t stop. As I recall the three figures coming for us, the decision is easy, �Out!�

Richard nods, firing his modified, high-tech shotgun at where one of the creatures is. Light flashes as the shell arcs through the air, thankfully the firing itself is mostly quiet but the shell does no damage. Richard growls in annoyance, ratcheting a different shell as Elsa, laid down by his feet trundles forward and opens her mouth. Fire erupts in a small, focused stream which she plays across the entrance, drawing ragged screams from our assailants and filling the cave with heat and the smell of burnt guano and fur.

Ali spins around in the center of the room, eyes narrowing and his lips thin as the glow surrounding him increases and increases again. Motes of light begin to break away from his body, floating through the room and lighting it up further, an intense look of concentration on the little Spirits olive face. In the light, the Crilik Shifters lose the cover of their shadows and are forced to materialise where Richard is able to shoot them. Dim fires from Elsa�s original attack glow, the turtle breathing deeply as it recovers.

Spell cast, Rachel begins another, gesturing with her hands to pull earth from the ground to create temporary walls. All of this happens in moments, moments that I take to scoop up Mikito and bolt for the exit. A part of my mind idly notes that even gravely injured as she is, she has not lost grip of her naginata. Running, I notice my heal spell has come off cooldown and I cast it again, praying that it�s enough.

I have to trust my friends to get out without my help even as the howls of more monsters joining the fight erupt behind me. I�m the only one who can save Mikito and I can�t heal her and fight at the same time. Not when a single one of those monsters did this to us. I send a silent prayer that Richard and Rachel make it out just before I burst into the light.

Come on, come on, come on. I chant the words in my mind, a hand on Mikito�s body as I heal her whenever I can do so. Such a useless spell, it barely edges her health up each time I use it and she�s still losing blood, her health plummeting each second but I think, I hope that I�m slowing down the bleeding. It�s all I have right now though and when all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. I�m hammering away as hard as I can while waiting for the rest of my companions to make it out.

A subjective hour later, I finally spot Rachel as she exits, clutching Elsa in her arms. A few moments later, Richard and then Shadow come into view, Richard moving backwards and sweeping his shotgun in front of him in practised arcs. Nothing comes out of the shadows after him and he makes it all the way out into the sunshine. Only one person left�

�Where�s Ali?� I ask the two as they reform around me, Rachel flicking her hands outwards to complete a spell. This time, vegetation bursts from the ground and encircles the entrance and I know the spell - Grasping Vines. I relax slightly when they appear, knowing that anything coming out now is going to be grabbed and held by the vines. At least until the mana that Rachel imbued in the vines give out in a few hours.

�He disappeared a couple of minutes after you left John,� Richard looks at me, concern etching his face. �One second he was all lit-up and backing the creatures off and then next, he just compressed and disappeared.�

I blink, dumbfounded. No. There�s no way Ali could die. He wasn�t real, he was a Spirit. He couldn�t be dead�

�John?� Rachel pushes me and I look up at her, realising she�s been calling my name for a bit. �Have you checked your Companion tab? Maybe he was just banished.�

�Banished?� I blink at her dumbly and then nod slightly, grasping at the straw. Right, Companion tab. �Ummm��

�You don�t know how to access it?� Richard sounds dumbfounded, looking away from the cave again.

�Ali normally handles that,� I reply sheepishly.

�Just think about opening the Companion tab. Same with the Status Screen,� Richard explains, looking down at Mikito. �After you heal her?�

I nod dumbly, bending down to cast another heal on Mikito. The wound around her throat looks a lot better, no longer leaking blood around the bandage and her arm is no longer broken. She�s probably out of the critical zone for now.

Following Richard�s directions, I pull out the Companion tab and breathe a sigh of relief as it indicates that my Spirit Companion is Banished currently. My eyes pop out a little bit at the cost of bringing him back though.

�He�s fine. I don�t have the mana to recall him, but he�s fine,� I report to the two and some tension eases from their postures. I look back to the cave and frown, �Those things going to come out?�

�Not likely. They died real easy while they were lit up, but there�s a bunch of them in there. I don�t think they do well in the light,� Rachel answers as she fumbles out a cigarette, only the shaking of her fingers showing how close things must have been.

�Right, well, let�s get out of here anyway. Richard, we�ll need the dogs to check for danger since Ali isn�t here. Rachel, you good with playing rear guard?� I gesture down to Mikito to indicate my role in all this and after getting confirming nods, we hurry out of there. No reason to push our luck by hanging out.

�Crilik Shifters you say?� Gadsby replies, tapping metallic fingers on the table and frowning. I nod in confirmation and he grimaces, looking over at our unconscious party member. �They did that to her eh?�

I nod again in confirmation and the faces arrayed before me draw tight in concern. The members of the council were all powerful with the exception of Elder Badger, the front-line team for the entirety of Carcross. Unfortunately, due to the concentration of strength in the Council, the rest of the combatants in Carcross were actually at a lower average level than what we saw among the dedicated hunters in Whitehorse.

�Don�t worry, we�ll finish the job,� I tell them and they look up, surprise etched on their face. Once again, they look at Mikito and I just smile back at them confidently.

�If you are sure John,� Andrea Badger says and I nod firmly.

�We�ll need a few days to prepare, maybe more if what we need to buy is too expensive. If you don�t mind, we�ll stay overnight and let Mikito rest before we go back to Whitehorse.�

Receiving their assent, I push back from the table as Richard meets my eyes, indicating he wants to talk. We head out, Rachel trailing along behind. Out of earshot, they wait for my explanation.

�It�s okay. I have a plan,� I grin at them and at their doubtful expressions, continue. �Give me a couple of days and I�ll explain. Trust me, will you?�

Rachel�s eyes narrow and Richard just snorts before letting the topic go.

�Jason,� I nod to the man as I sit, legs propped up on a table as I read through my books. Jason frowns, glancing at the book briefly before taking a seat next to me. Mikito in the corner continues to sleep, Richard and Rachel having gone out to mingle with the others for the moment. My turn to keep an eye on sleeping beauty.

�John, about the cave,� Jason starts and I sigh, waving the window away. I�m almost ready to pull Ali back but I�m tempted to let him stew there for a little longer. It�s been nice and quiet without him.

�Not going to happen kid,� I point a finger at him and continue. �Your mum would kill me.�

Jason sighs and moves a hand to push non-existent glasses up his face before faltering, �She won�t let me do anything without her around. If it wasn�t for me, they wouldn�t understand half this shit.�

I nod in agreement at his words, letting the kid rant for a moment. He has a point, his knowledge of games and game mechanics certainly saved their asses early on.

Slumping in his chair, Jason looks me over again before asking. �I�ve been meaning to ask � what kind of build are you going for?�

�Huh?� I stare at the boy, waggling my finger for him to elaborate. Like talking to Ali.

�Build � you know, what are you trying to achieve? At first, I thought it was an Assassin-Rogue kind of thing, especially after our walk in the forest. But Rachel tells me you do a lot of fighting up front and actually get kicked around a lot and you�ve got that healing spell, so I�m thinking Paladin-Tank now. On the other hand, she says you�ve been studying magic too,� Jason says.

�Ah�� I tilt my head, looking him over once more, noting the still scrawny arms, the lack of a chest and the way he pulls himself in slightly. I recall the pitiful health score his Status bar had. Jason looks confused when I rub my forehead, �Let me guess. You�re min-maxing your character right, putting all your points into Intelligence for a bigger mana pool, some points into Willpower to control spells more finely and some Perception to help cast them?�

Jason nods at that, puffing up proudly and I reach out and smack him on the top of his head very, very lightly. He staggers from the blow and I make a note to reduce strength even further the next time I feel the urge to do that, nostrils flaring as I cut him off by asking, �How much health did I take off you?�

�What?�

�Health, how much?�

�Ummm� 5 points?� Jason continues to rub his head, frowning.

�I was trying really hard not to hurt you and that�s how much I did. And that�s a significant portion for you,� I point over to Mikito, continuing �The creature that attacked us? The Shifter did more damage in one hit than you have life. You�d be so much red paste if you were in the cave with us.�

Jason nods at the words, face set in stubborn refusal to get my point so far.

�What happens when you die in your games?� When silence greets my question, I prod him again with the same question.

�You restart,� Jason finally relents and answers me.

�Yeah, no restart here. You can�t min-max your stats in real life, Jason, not if you want to survive. There�s no second chance here. If you want my guess why your mum isn�t letting you out, it�s because she knows you haven�t gotten that into your head yet. Put your points into Constitution, build up some Strength and Agility. Hell, buy it from the Shop if you have to, but right now, you�re a stiff breeze away from dying.�

�What about you then? You throw yourself into crazy, stupid situations all the time,� Jason retorts.

�Yeah, I do. We do,� I correct myself after a moment. �Crazy and stupid is the kind of world we live in these days. You think I want to be out there? I just don�t have a choice. If I stop, if I slow down, people die. If we don�t keep pushing back the monsters, they keep building up and then we�ll have a monster horde.

I draw a deep breath, pushing against the anger that rushes in. Damn kid. �Anyway, I didn�t say don�t do it, just don�t treat it like a game. This world needs people like you, Jason, more than ever.�

�So, go around white knighting because that�s the right thing to do?� Jason shoots back, a teenagers cynicism in his voice.

�No. Just the correct thing,� I say.

My reply just confuses the kid, which it should. How do you explain that�s there�s a difference between right and correct � that we make so many distinctions between good and bad, right and wrong but fail to see that some things just are. When the world just is, the choice stops being about right or wrong but about deciding to do the correct thing or not in a situation. It�s a hard concept to grasp, and it�s not as I was ever good at it myself. I still struggle daily with the fact that I�m not hiding away at home but I�ve tried that and it never ends well.

Still, confusing him is enough to make Jason stop pushing back for a moment and I can see him slowly processing everything else we�ve spoken about. I can�t help but wonder if I�ve done any good here though. Jason acted like this was a game because it was easier than the reality of our situation � a coping mechanism that helped him and his mum and Carcross survive. Taking it away might do more harm than good. I watch him sit in silence for a while and I push my doubts away, holding to the only truth that I know. What is, is.

Our quiet contemplation is disturbed by groaning from the corner as Mikito finally wakes. I am on my feet in a second and crossing over with a glass of water as I help her up. When her eyes finally open, she looks around panickily for her weapon before relaxing at seeing it propped next to her. She reaches for the weapon first, putting it next to her before taking the proffered water.

�Welcome back Mikito,� I say. Behind, Jason takes it as his cue to leave.

Mikito drinks the water in silence, head buried under the falls of her hair. After the spiders, she just cut it short to get it out of the way but there�s still enough to hide her. She stays in that position, head bent and slowly my ears pick up the sound of snuffling and I realise she�s crying.

�Mikito?� I ask, moving to reach out to her and stopping, recalling she does not touch.

�So close,� she sobs again and pulls her knees up to her body, naginata cradled between her body as the sobs grow in intensity. I say nothing, just lending my support as she works through it. When she is ready, she sits up though she refuses to look at me. �Thank you.�

�No need,� I reply and then, deciding there is nothing to lose I ask, �Do you want to talk about it?�

She shakes her head and I sigh, leaning back on my heels to watch the tiny woman.

�I should be dead. Ken, he died for me. I asked to come. Here. We wanted a baby, a good luck baby. Good fortune. When System came, I got class. He gave up his for this.� I look to the hand that clutches the naginata in a death grip and stay silent, letting her continue, �Ken knew my sofu, grandfather, trained me. Said I had to survive.

�I couldn�t save him.�

The last words are stark, a condemnation. I exhale, her raw grief a reminder of my own, �None of us can.�

She looks up at me then, just a brief glance and then she looks down once more. �Failures. All of us.�

I nod and we fall into silence for a time, caught up in our own dark thoughts. After a time, Mikito speaks softly, �Not easy. Hurts all the time. But, I do better.�

I acknowledge her words with a smile and then stand, offering her a hand up which she hesitantly takes. �Come on, let�s get some food into you. All that healing must have left you famished.�

Mikito tilts her head at the last word and I quickly explain it as we leave to hunt down some food. And dessert. Seems today was the day of hard talks.

Hours later, when I�m alone I stand on one unguarded corner of the wall.

Do You Wish to Resummon Your Spirit Companion

Cost: 500 Mana

(Y/N)

I select the Yes mentally and I feel my mana rush out of me in a wave, sending shivers through my body as the mana collects to my left. It spins in a circle, glowing brighter and brighter before Ali returns, tapping his foot.

�You couldn�t have waited another hour? I was just about done with America�s Top Model Season 5!� Ali grumbles, shaking his head.

�Fine, one second.� I mentally select the Companion tab again, noting the option to banish him. It stays open for a brief second before it closes as Ali waves his hand up and down frantically.

�No, no, no. It�s fine, it�s fine. Tara Banks will always be there,� Ali comments quickly and spins around me, eyes unfocusing for a moment. �You guys all made it eh?�

�Yeah, we did,� I add. �Thanks. I take it your little spell was too much for you eh?�

Ali grimaces and nods. �So, what are we going to do about the cave? Time to call it a day?�

�No. We�ll be going back. I have a plan,� I reply and watch as Ali dramatically shivers as I say those words. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up asshole. I missed you too.

�Come on, we�ve got a lot talk about,� I gesture him over while the rest of my companions� sleep. Truth be told, I have less of a plan and more of a concept and I�ll need a lot more information to make this work. That starts with Ali.

Chapter 18

The next morning, the team is up by seven. I guess sleep wasn�t easy either, no matter how comfortable the bed is. I�d spent the night walking the perimeter before crashing, listening to the guards talk and chatting with Ali about what I intended to do. I didn�t pick up much useful in terms of gossip, just low-level dissatisfaction with the ban on alcohol and the fast depleting stocks of cigarettes. If I was inclined to play trader or smuggler, carrying both on my regular runs would make me a decent profit. Instead, I just make note to look into the cost of a pack of cigarettes in the store. You never know when good bribe material might come in handy.

�Elder,� I tilt my head to the old woman as she comes up to see us off. As late as I went to bed, she had been up later, catching up with paperwork and the toll is showing. Enhanced constitution or not, the woman needs rest. Unfortunately, it�s not my place to say, �Need anything?�

She shakes her head, a tired smile crossing her face. �No, just seeing you off. You children be careful alright? It�d be lonely without you.�

I smile politely, knowing what she means. The Circle is too busy grinding, venturing into more and more dangerous zones on the days they aren�t helping out in Whitehorse. The Brotherhood has swung by Carcross once and promptly never returned. From what I hear, Ms. Badger took them to task for their lack of community spirit, which has resulted in them not returning. Guess teenagers given a sense of power and freedom aren�t particularly fond of being told off like children. Then again, they joined the Whitehorse Council and are finally helping out with leveling the population, so maybe some good came of it. Either case, we�re the only high-powered group that regularly makes trips in. Jim and his people swing by when they can, but they rarely have time with the food situation being what it is.

Leaving Carcross this time takes longer than normal. First, we have to pry the kids - and the not-so-suffering teenagers tasked with watching them - off the backs of the puppies which always takes a while. Then we have to deal with the verbal fight that breaks out among the passengers who now want to move to Whitehorse over who gets to go first. Initially, when the supply runs started, we had a few decide they�d prefer living in the big city. Then, we had a small flow of people going the other way, when word got out that Carcross was an actual safe zone in its entirety. Now, word of the raid bosses has spread and people are running again, looking for safety in numbers.

Once all that is settled, we are finally ready to roll out, though more than one passenger complains about being stuffed amongst the puppies. Mikito just glares at them till they shut up as she�s relegated to riding behind me today. Finally organised, we roll out.

Being overburdened with hanger-ons' means we have to move slower which means more chance encounters in the wilderness. Twice, we have to stop to deal with monsters that get too close for comfort. The first time, we have to keep Richard and company back since our opponents throw acid from their bodies. This time, Mikito even looks at me for acknowledgement before running into the middle of the pack while I work my rifle from a ditch in the side of the road. Mikito quite literally dances through the acid splashes, blade held together as she blurs at a dead sprint that�d make Usain Bolt look like a toddler. Once again, I can�t help but wish for access to my Class Skills. The good news is that the creatures are squishy and when Mikito gets in-between them, the fight is all but over. She�s moving too fast for me to take a shot without risk of hitting her, so I just sit back and leave her to it.

Our second run in is with a Troll and this time round, we�re told to back off as Richard stalks out with the puppies in tow. What happens next is what I assume bear baiting looked like, with the occasional addition of a shotgun blast to the face. The fight is brutal with the puppies ripping chunks off the troll faster than it can heal. Richard just smiles grimly as the puppies� work. I guess we all have some unresolved issues.

Our passengers mostly cower and hide though a few of the braver souls keep watch with their guns. I listen to one throw up and another sniff at the brutality, muttering about us being savages. That one makes me want to walk over and bitch-slap the stupid blonde but I shove the anger down again.

As we close in on Whitehorse, Ali floats back to me and waggles his fingers in his sign for �slow-down�. I do so, wondering what he picked up.

�So, John. You like Roxley right?� I nod, �And Xev�s pretty cool too even if it�s a bit creepy right?� I nod again. It because Xev�s reproduction method really, really doesn�t come even close to the human dynamics.

�Ali�.� I begin out loud so Mikito can listen in to both sides of this conversation.

�Right, so there�s a group of non-human sentients at the gate in Whitehorse. They�re here on invitation, so don�t shoot them,� Ali finishes and watches me for my reaction. I slow down even more, knowing Richard will follow suit once he catches up. Shit, non-human guests?

�They�re here to settle under the invitation that Roxley set-up in the System,� Ali explains and grimaces. �I�m guessing it�s not going over well with your people since there�s quite a crowd of humans waiting for them.�

�Shit,� I frown and pull to a stop, well out of sight of the gate. I�m trying to work out my feelings about this, mostly, it�s variations of �oh shit�.

When the others catch up, I have Ali quickly explain the situation.

�What is he doing inviting people into our city?� Richard throws his hands up and, around us, the dogs bristle in reaction to his emotions.

�Pretty sure he thinks it�s his city,� I point out and shrug under Richard�s glare. Just telling the truth there.

�Fuck. And you�re okay with this,� Richard stares at me and at his question, both Rachel and Mikito turn their gazes on me. Mikito has gotten off the bike and is facing away from us watching the treeline but at those words turns back to us.

�I sort-of figured we�d have alien guests sooner or later, though I�ll admit, this is a bit earlier than I expected,� Ever since Ali explained the reason for our world, it made sense that we�d get visitors. I just didn�t really expect them till after the integration was complete, but I guess some people are more willing to jump than others.

Richard growls and points to Mikito, asking next; �And you?�

She considers, eyes tightening and then looking at her polearm before down again. At last, she looks at me and then back to Richard before she speaks, �I promised better. Lead, I follow.�

�If you�re going to ask me next, I don�t care. Not as if anyone ever asks when they settle here anyway,� Rachel speaks up, arms crossed over body.

Richard opens his mouth and then shuts it, looking at Rachel then the rest of us. Max moves over to Richard and he begins to stroke the dog on the head, the action visibly calming him down. �I�m not happy about this,� he states.

�Yeah, I�m pretty sure most people aren�t. Not as if we have a choice though,� I point out and he nods at that. �So, overall we�re good with this. Question is, what do we want to do? We can head around, maybe skip around��

�At this rate, it looks like someone might get shot,� Ali says.

�What happens then?� I say.

�Then bad things happen. They are significantly higher level than the guards and if they get pushed�� Ali adds.

�Fuck�� I shake my head and look at the others. �Do we step in?�

Mikito doesn�t answer, already having turned away to watch the treeline. Rachel just nods, and Richard grimaces a lot before giving a curt nod. Yeah, he�s not happy. I roll my neck, trying to get the tension out that has suddenly appeared.

�Let�s do this,� I grumble and start the bike. I blink and Mikito�s on the bike next to me, straddling again and I shake my head. Damn but that woman can move. �Ali, you have anything useful to add?�

�Always. So, first thing � they�re called Yerick. Or that�s the closest you�ll get anyway. They were integrated into the System 2,000 years ago and their planet is nearly on the opposite side of the Council�s lands. Unfortunately, they weren�t very advanced when they were integrated like you humans, so they�ve mostly been relegated to being the lowest class of workers � Adventurers,� Ali begins talking, looking ahead to where we are and information only he can see. �Looks like they�re going to be a mix though, crafters and Adventurers with some kids.�

I nod, taking the curves down the hill as we begin to approach the city proper. I tap my helmet, letting it retract and feeling the wind on my hair. Damn but I need a haircut.

�One last thing, you guys are probably just going to call them minotaurs,� Ali says.

Considering he drops that note a second before I finally catch sight of the scene, I make a mental note to kick his ass. A bit of warning would help � seeing a crowd of thirty or so bull-headed, horned creatures with the ripped, humanoid bodies carrying rifles and swords is enough to give me a shiver. The Yerick are facing the twelve-foot reinforced concrete wall, standing in a group right in front of the gates and watching the guards who are posted there warily. The wall itself is really just an extra high vantage point, the mana shield behind it is the real source of defense. Physical defenses like walls really only work against the most basic of creatures, what with most monsters able to punch their way through concrete without effort.

On closer inspection, I note that Roxley�s guards are between the minotaurs and the wall and are facing in to the human guards. Behind the wall, I can hear the unruly crowd that Ali mentioned though so far, no one has started a chant.

The minotaurs are extremely well trained, the moment I come around the corner one of their lookouts at the back barks a warning and suddenly we�ve got guns being raised and swords drawn. Even as I hit the brakes, Mikito is hopping off and running to the side of me with naginata held next to her. Behind the wall I can see humans beginning to aim their guns. All it�s going to take is a spark and everyone�s going to start shooting.

Shit!

�STOP!� The shouted command washes over all of us and for a brief moment, my body locks up. I shove against the mental command, forcing past it and feel it give way beneath my will.

Mental Influence Resisted

All around me, I see people frozen in mid-motion. I know that voice though and I get off the bike, leaving my weapon alone. As I move, I note that I�m not the only one able to resist the command.

Capstan Ulrick (Level 7 Yerick Flame Warrior, First Fist)

HP: 2100/2100

My eyes bulge out slightly when I spot his health. Christ-on-a-pogo stick. Capstan towers over even his people by a good foot, putting his total height including horns at just under ten feet. He�s holding a rifle in one hand that by human terms would be a crew mounted weapon with three barrels on it in gleaming black and on his back is an axe. He�s wearing a simple jumpsuit like us but I do note the variable shield pack on his hip. The Yerick�s eyes glow red and nostrils are flaring as it looks between me and the walls, wondering what is about to happen.

I wonder if his Level is a bug or something? In fact, why is only a quarter of the Status Bars on the minotaurs showing? I look over to Ali and realise he�s frozen too by the command and I can�t help but wonder if I can buy Roxley�s skill.

As if summoned, Roxley jumps over the wall and lands on the opposite side, startling Capstan. The minotaur is well trained though, he doesn�t just start shooting as Roxley doesn�t do anything more dangerous than smooth his robes down. Capstan and I both spend a moment to stare at the pretty, pretty elf with his marble skin, pointy ears, black hair and golden robes before we both begin to speak.

�Harglexasss Roxley,� or at least that�s what I hear.

�Roxley!� I stride forwards, keeping my hands well away from the pistol strapped to my thigh.

Roxley raises his hands up, forestalling our words as he turns to speak to everyone, black eyes glowing with an inner light. �The first person to shoot dies by my hand. The person who shoots after that condemns the group he is with to death as well.�

Like a weight that�s suddenly lifted off, I feel the pressure in my mind release. More than one individual staggers, the kids among the minotaurs bawling their eyes out though worried parents don�t move to comfort them beyond a single free hand. I spot at least one guard leaning over the wall and throwing up as control is released. I can�t tell what my team is doing behind me, I just hope they keep to what we agreed on.

Roxley beckons Capstan to him and as I begin to approach, he holds a finger up to me admonishing my actions. Fine. I�ll let them talk. Lipreading doesn�t help either since they aren�t talking English or any human language. It doesn�t take them long before the two break away, Capstan walking to the Yericks and speaking to his group while Roxley turns to us, voice like iron; �These are my guests, they will be treated as such. Harm caused to them will be as though harm is caused to me and punished in the same way.�

Oh boy. I�ve picked up a few things from Roxley and guest rights are pretty big in the Galactic Core. It�s one of the only ways any civilized conversation can be had between such a disparate group as the Council members and so it�s vigorously enforced. It�s what got us into trouble in the first place - the envoy expected some minimum level of guest rights and instead, it got shot, captured and then dissected. Alive.

At Roxley�s command, the gates open and his own guards move to flank and escort the Yerick in. I turn to Roxley to speak with him and he shakes his head again, mouthing �tonight� before leaving to join the group. As the initial after-effects of his command leeches away, his more regular presence exerts himself. Even the guards who should be watching for danger are throwing quick glances at the elf and the humans are mostly just staring at the pretty, pretty elf. It�s no wonder he doesn�t make a lot of public appearances.

Fine. Tonight. Not my fault my traitorous,gluttonousstomach wonders what will be served for dinner.

By the time we get in, reporting in to the Council about the Dungeon would be problematic at the very least. I can just guess that they�ll want to drag us into an �emergency session� which involved talking for hours in circles, so instead I get Richard and Ali to go to calm them down. Ali because the little bugger actually has relevant information and Richard because he can actually charm the pants off anybody if he has the mind to. I can see him give me his �we�re going to talk later look� but he follows my lead for now. Hopefully, Richard can keep the Council from doing anything really stupid.

Mikito and Rachel get sent off to do the same thing with the hunters that gathered at the gate attempting to bar it, with orders to ensure they didn�t cause trouble. Last I saw, Mikito was organising the hunters into a spontaneous hunting party. Crude, but effective.

Me? I go shopping right after I drop Sabre off at Xev�s.

The Biology of the Crilik Shifter (100 Credits)

I make the purchase and information floods into me. I�m looking for some specific details in this and it�s a simple matter to locate and confirm. Great, next�

Carcross Wet Caves (#12356) Layout (25,000 Credits)

Jesus that�s expensive. I wonder if it�s because it�s a known monster lair. I frown at the screen and the Fox sidles up to me, offering me a toothy grin. �Perhaps I can be of assistance sir?�

Oh, I know the assistance he wants. Every single Credit that I have and without Ali here, I�m a bit leery of dealing with it. Still, no harm asking, �I need to work out the layout of this location but it costs too much to buy it.�

�Ah, but we do have a significant number of mapping accessories,� the Fox grins and waves his hand. �Now, you�re not looking for something passive that will add to your map currently, correct? So, we must look for active options. Does the sir have a preference for biological, spiritual or artificial methods?�

�Don�t care really, show me the best.�

�Budget?�

I grunt, picking through my mind what I had left. I�d need at least 10,000 credits for the rest of the equipment I have in mind, which doesn�t leave me with much. Then again, I might be able to get a loan from the group, so� �Let�s go with a maximum of 12,000 Credits,�

�Tight,� the Fox looks displeased for a moment before it raises its hand and starts waving.

Wil-o-wisp Spirit (Modified)

This nature spirit has been modified to accept basic commands and is able to update a map with locations it has visited.

Cost: 12,000 Credits

Hunii Dragonfly Drone (Scouting Type IV)

This dragonfly drone comes equipped with multiple visual and audio recording options and can update 3D landscaping maps.

Operating time: 2 Hours

Cost: 5,000 Credits

�Why the big difference in cost?� I enquire, staring at the two.

�The wil-o-wisps are a contracted companion, much like Ali and have the additional benefit of being extremely difficult to damage. The drones are more versatile but much more fragile,� the Fox answers promptly.

�The wisps, are they sentient?� I can just imagine having 2 Ali�s chattering at me all through the day.

�Mildly. Along the lines of a rat pet you humans have,� the Fox continues. �Though I would not recommend keeping this one summoned constantly. Unlike Ali, it will drain your mana continuously.�

�There more options?�

�Of course, sir,� the Fox doesn�t even frown when I ask, pulling up other information. Twenty minutes later, I have to admit, he�s probably picked the best options. Biological entities generally have to come back to report on what they see, not having an option to inform me directly and adding a direct connection is way too expensive and brings its own host of issues. When it comes to Spirits, anything smarter than the wil-o-wisp ends up being too expensive and unable to map. The drones have the better array of options, but most just become variations of one another with minor changes in operating hours, structure and locomotion methods. The only other option is to upgrade Sabre herself, adding a more powerful sonar and radar mapping option, but that would use a precious hardpoint.

I make note of the two options and start digging into the shop for the tools that I�ll need. Since Foxy is so useful, I let him know the outlines of the plan and we get to work, putting together my shopping cart. I�ll need Ali to take a look at this later once he�s free, but best to get as much done as possible.

When I get out of the Shop, it�s mid-afternoon and there just so happens to be a group of human guards waiting outside. Considering the minotaurs are currently housed in the same building, I�m not buying the coincidence.

�Amelia,� I can�t help the disapproval in my voice as I stare at her and her friends. Most are guards like her, though I�m surprised that�s it mostly women, especially considering the gender inequality we see among the guards and hunters in general. From the corner of my eye, I watch a pair of cats slink out behind me, sending shivers down my spine. Whitehorse isn�t much of a cat town, and I�m glad. Mana warped cats are just frightening � something about the way they look at me reminds me that they are just a little way off from going completely feral.

Amelia smiles at me when she first spots me and then looks confused at my tone of voice. It takes a moment for her to clue in before she waves her hand, �No, no. Nothing like that. We�re here to help. Keep an eye on things, you know.�

�Ah,� I nod slightly, still puzzled by the mix. Whatever, not my business. �Good I guess. Roxley�s serious about the entire guest thing.�

Amelia�s lips twist as she continues, �Yes. We understand what it�s like to be judged for being different.�

I nod slightly, glad that some people have sense. I won�t kill them if they don�t kill us. �Manbun running class still?�

�Adley,� Amelia replies, her voice stressing the name, her tone disapproving, �is running class today, yes.�

�Thanks!� I wave goodbye to her. Might as well get some training in since I�ve got a few hours before dinner.

�Breathe in and extend your arms to the heavens, open yourself to the world. Be one with it. Accept the Universe into your soul,� Adley chants as he walks around the class, guiding hands tapping and adjusting us. �Relax, let your hands fall to the earth and fall back on your heels. Stretch into downward dog. Hold and breathe. Feel the way the world moves with you.�

Today�s class is yoga. Adley has a lot of methods for gaining ability in mana manipulation - most of it cribbed from bad translations of Asian philosophy � but considering it works for him and those he teaches, I really can�t complain. Much.

Mana manipulation or more specifically, progressing the skill is all about learning to visualize that force that surrounds us and changes everything. Understanding that force is kind of like threading an elephant through a needle, not possible without significant adjustments in our worldview though. Manbun�s method is no better or worse than Rachel�s of envisioning her ancestral spirits � the elephant still isn�t in one piece. In some ways, it�s very similar to how Ali trains me to access my Elemental Affinity of electromagnetic force, though as he is quick to point out, one is artificial, the other, natural.

So, here I am, doing warrior pose in the middle of the day trying to connect with Mana by moving. I have to admit, this particular class might not be for me, though that just might be as much due to certain lycra clad distractions. Don�t judge � I�ve got a much higher Constitution, streamlined genes and haven�t been laid in months.

After class, most of the other students cluster around Manbun, talking to him about how great class was and how they felt closer to being connected. I take the moment to wipe the yoga mat down when a hand falls on my arm. I don�t really think about it, just grabbing and turning, putting the arm into lock even as I stand. The soft gasp by the brunette whose arm I had grabbed is not without a little pain, so I let go.

�Sorry. Habit,� I reply and at her smile, return it. Light brown hair in a ponytail, liquid brown eyes under long, curving eyelashes and a cute button nose look back up at me. I notice she doesn�t step back even though I�ve let her go, and can�t help but admire the tight stomach in the yoga top and pants ensemble she wears. She�s so close to me I can smell her, a somewhat heady combination even mingled with her sweat.

�Not at all,� she replies and her voice is like sweet taffy. �Did you enjoy class?�

�Truthfully, this didn�t work for me. Though it is looking up,� I say.

�John isn�t it?� she says.

�Yeah�� I look above her head and realise Ali isn�t around, updating her Status bar for me. Damn it.

Misreading my hesitation, or at least the cause of it, she replies. �Karen.�

�Well, it�s nice meeting you Karen,� I reply, neither one of us moving. She�s so close, I can feel the heat rising off her body. Or maybe it�s me that�s getting hot.

�Well, John, my friends and I have to go wash up in the river. Perhaps I�ll see you soon. I�m staying at Selkirk for now,� she smiles slightly at me and turns, walking away but not before letting a hand trail along my chest as she does so.

�Yeah�� I blink, watching her move off to join her friends and do a surreptitious check to make sure I�m not drooling when I finish rolling up my mat.

Chapter 19

It�s late by the time I get home though I take a moment to admire the house in the evening sun. We�ve managed to divert a little of our funds to the house, adding a new eight-foot-tall wall with lookout towers on either end that elevate it to a good twelve-feet. While physical walls aren�t the most useful things these days, even I could leap them at a standstill, it was better than nothing.

The separate garage has been purchased and turned into a workshop for automotive maintenance. Richard�s taken an interest in that, working with Chris on the trucks. Unfortunately, we still have to buy mana engines and mana batteries from the Shop, but when Chris isn�t working on our trucks, he�s upgrading vehicles for others which gives us a separate and small income stream.

Power for all this is now provided by a residential mana engine and battery combo that lights up the house and the spotlights we have situated along the walls. Reinforced security doors and windows are now installed throughout the house too, giving us a little extra security if we are ever attacked and even the walls are upgraded to Galactic standards.

As I walk in, I can hear the voices of more of our constant guests. Since we have one of the only places with power in town, we�ve also become the go-to hangout location for many kids, especially since Lana looted a 72� TV for the living room. I pause at the doorway, just listening to the happy, contented voices as they chat as an episode of Firefly plays in the background. I close my eyes for a time, leaning against the doorjamb and let the noise and smell of home wash over me. I can�t make their world better, can�t make it what it was before, but at least, for a little bit, I can give them a place that is safe.

When I open my eyes, Lana is leaning on the staircase opposite the door, watching me with a small smile on her face. I feel my face go blank, caught for a moment but that just makes her smile wider, still not saying a word. I return her violet gaze before breaking eye contact, letting my eyes roam over the redhead�s form. Images of Karen flash into mind as I compare her to Lana, finding no fault in either. Lana�s dressed casual as usual, just a simple grey top and jeans which she pulls off with aplomb.

�Done?� she flashes me a mischievous look and I realise I�m looking a lot more than I should.

�Yeah�� I shake my head and she snorts, coming the rest of the way down.

�Dinner will be done in a bit but you need a shower,� Lana saunters past me to the kitchen, and I swear, she puts a little extra wiggle into her hips as she does. As she leaves, she calls out behind her. �No chocolate for the kids!�

I grin, waiting for a moment for her to exit before I walk into the living room. The kids, on seeing me crowd around and I wink at the teenagers as I pull out a handful of mini-Toblerones from my inventory and drop them into waiting hands. Good deed of the day done, I take the stairs to my place, heading around the corner to my suite. Unlike the rest of the house, nothing has changed much down here. I�ve barely been back to make any changes really � which sadly includes my sheets. I really need to change those sheets.

Once again making a promise to myself to get laundry done, I get into the shower, turning it all the way to freezing as images of Lana / Karen on those sheets cross my mind again.

Once I�m done, I head to the kitchen and realise the rest of the party has finally made their way out of their respective engagements. I plop down in a seat but shake my head as Lana begins to stand up, �Got a dinner with Roxley later.�

Lana just nods, sitting back down before pointing to Richard, �Carcross?�

�Right, so the City Council is perfectly happy for us to deal with the issue at Carcross. No arguments there at all, though��

�I�ve got a plan, I think,� I flash him another reassuring smile and Richard rolls his eyes. �Though, we need to be smarter. I know we�ve all got the first aid bandages already, but if things go bad again, we might need something more immediate. So, two things. We hit up Sally�s and get some of her best potions for emergency use for everybody. In addition, we should just get the rest of you guys healing spells. Rachel � maybe a more powerful one for you?�

Rachel nods, eyebrows furrowing in thought. Her buff was powerful and it tapped into her specialisation, but it wasn�t instantaneous or anything close to it. Richard scratches at his beard, still unused to having it and adds, �I�d like to look into some spells for myself too. Perhaps something that benefits everyone.�

�Okay, well, no real rush. I�ve got an idea about how we�re going to deal with the dungeon anyway,� I continue before gesturing back to Richard. �What�s the feeling about the Yerick?�

�The minotaurs?� Richard replies

�Don�t,� I shake my head and as he begins to bristle, I point to the hovering Ali. �He told me Orcs were waiting for me and then I got shot at by beam rifles and grenades. Nearly cost me my life. These aren�t Greek legends or mindless beasts. The Yerick are a sentient race � aliens if you will. Better to name properly and think about them right.�

Rachel looks startled by my words and Richard nods slightly, eyebrows crinkling as he digests that piece of information. Lana just smiles and Mikito� Mikito just keeps eating, every movement precise and contained as always.

�As I was saying, the Yerick aren�t a welcome addition. But the Council won�t take any official action and are spreading the word to keep out of their way, but this entire thing is rubbing them the wrong way. Especially this declaration of the mino � the Yerick � being guests,� Richard continues.

�Three days. That�s how long it lasts,� I point out and then look over to Ali for further clarification.

�Like I told the Council, the Yerick have three days to come to an agreement with Roxley. At the end of the time, they either leave or they become residents like you guys,� Ali clarifies and I nod, filing that information away.

�Three days or not, people aren�t happy with a whole community of aliens just appearing,� Richard stresses.

�Happy or not, I don�t think they are leaving if they are bringing children,� Lana says and at Rachel�s look smiles. �Everyone is talking about it. I understand the kids are actually quite cute.�

Mikito nods firmly at that and even Richard has to shrug his shoulders. Okay, maybe sending cute Yerick kids out as ambassadors might work. Maybe something for later, I shudder to think what they�d do if one of their kids got hurt. Or ours. �Rachel?�

The young lady just shrugs, looking at me and I have to repeat my question.

�What? Mikito and I rode the guys we had till they were falling over from exhaustion, then we got them up and ran them more into whatever monsters we could find. They won�t be up for doing anything tonight, but�� she shrugs her shoulders again. �They didn�t like Roxley and they especially didn�t like that thing he did or the fact that the �cattle� are coming to take their land.�

�How bad is it?� I push her, watching her and Mikito�s reactions.

�Bad. Stupid is as stupid does you know. I even heard one say Canada was for real Canadians,� she almost snarls at that one, continuing. �Made sure Mikito was in range to hear that. He ended up eating dirt. A lot.�

I nod and rub at my temples, thinking. Richard interrupts me before I can put together anything useful.

�You sure we are on the right side of this John? It doesn�t sit right with me, letting them just come in. We�ve fought and bled to keep the monsters out and now, we�re what, asking them to be our neighbors?� Richard says.

�What would you suggest?� I turn to the man, making sure there is no challenge in my tone.

�Well�,� Richard opens his mouth and then shuts it. He�s smart enough to work through the options if he thinks about it. We can�t make Roxley rescind his offer, we can�t fight them and even if we did, so what? The next bunch is just around the corner. As his brows furrow further, Lana reaches over and squeezes his hand and Richard huffs out. �I hate this. It feels like we�re just giving up, giving up Earth and Whitehorse and just saying, it�s over.�

Mikito looks up, finishing chewing before she adds, �We aren�t giving up. But we already failed. World has changed.�

�It might not be all bad,� I point out and Richard raises an eyebrow. �We know things are going to get worst. Their leader was a Level 7 Advanced Class if I�m not mistaken,� Ali nods and I continue �so they�re going to be one heck of a helping hand. Paw. Whatever.�

That pronouncement just leaves the group in stunned silence for a time. A Level 7 Advanced Class puts him at around level 57 - except it doesn�t work in a linear fashion that way. Each level is harder and harder to get and Advanced Class levels are even harder. I let them stew on it a bit before I turn to Lana.

�I know, John. I�ll do what I can, talk to the people I know but�� Lana shrugs and I nod my head again. Don�t expect miracles. Got it. Richard who seemed to have rolled with the punches of this world has gotten his pants in a twist over the Yerick. How much work is it going to be with the rest of the population?

Skill Acquired

Manipulation (Level 1)

Everyone wants their own way. You�re just better at getting it than some others.

I flick a look over to Ali when the screen pops up and he shrugs his shoulders. I rub my head, hating this. I�d worked so hard to stay out of this, to keep things casual and friendly in the group, a modicum of respect between all of us. I didn�t want to be a leader, not really, but the world never asks what we want, it just is. I hated the pressure, the fact that I was the one who always had to be thinking, considering, planning. I just wanted to go back to my room, to hide in it but instead I�ve got to fight, kill, loot.

I sigh and push away from the table, standing up. �I got to go. We�ll need to get the spells and gear from the Shop tomorrow. Xev will have Sabre fixed by tomorrow morning and has promised to drop it off here when it�s done. Theoretically, we could try again tomorrow. Though I�m not sure leaving is the best idea.�

There are nods from all around. We could leave Whitehorse and the shit storm that�s coming and go kill things, but it might blow up in our face by the time we get back. On the other hand, leaving the monster lair alone isn�t a great option either.

�Off to see your boyfriend then?� Lana suddenly asks me, her voice too light and relaxed.

�Roxley isn�t my boyfriend Lana,� I reply immediately, frowning at the rather weird direction this conversation has taken.

�Uh huh. Late night dinners, long talks and �private training sessions� all sound like dates to me,� she teases and I roll my eyes. Richard�s lips twitch slightly and Rachel looks between the two of us, rolling her eyes.

Oh, I think I see. Still, a little devil in me pop�s up and before I can think better of it, I reply, �Why, jealous?�

�Mmm�� she puts a finger to her lips before she continues, her voice suddenly turning serious. �Maybe?�

I pause, brain coming to a stuttering stop as she says that, lost in the implications. We�ve been flirting for a month now, kind of dancing around the entire issue and this is the first time anything has ever been said out loud. My brain restarts when peals of bright, bubbly laughter rise up from her chest. I shake my head, feeling somewhat put-off as she continues, �Oh god, your face��

Damn it. I fell for it, hook line and sinker. I can�t help but acknowledge she�s won this round. As I turn away again, she crosses the distance to place a hand on my arm to stop me. Her hands are soft and warm and this close, I can smell the soap she wears and just the hint of her beneath it. �John, I�m sorry. You deserve your happiness, we all do.�

�I�m not dating Roxley!� I say again.

�And that�s a good thing. You�d make a horrible boyfriend right now,� Lana points out, that soft smile back on her lips.

�Worst husband,� Mikito adds from her corner of the dining table, not even pausing as she cuts up her steak.

Lana nods in confirmation to Mikito�s addition, eyes crinkling in amusement. �Definitely that too. So, go play with your boy for now, we�ll be here.�

I growl, glaring at the two women. Richard just keeps his head buried, slicing a piece off his steak with great care, though at least Rachel has the grace to look as confused as I am. What the hell makes me a bad boyfriend? I stomp off with my rifle and it�s only my increased Perception that lets me hear Richard - that traitor � finally speak before everyone breaks out into laughter. �His face!�

Dinner at Roxley�s is always a formal affair. A small, ball-like creature serves us our dishes and rolls away with speed, cooking with gusto and experience. The dishes are amazing - each time I eat here, the dishes are new and exciting, an artistic masterpiece that comes with its own history lesson. Most important is the dessert, this time from the Orion region of space � a sweet bread-like recipe that we dip in a red sauce.

Talk at the table is always limited to general topics, Earth or Galactic Council history, the state of the world, even how the System works. We never speak of the personal or about business itself � topics such as those considered crass at a Dark Elf�s dinner table. Or more correctly, a Truinnar�s dinner table. Fascinating group, from what Roxley has told me. Unbridled ambition combined with ruthless morality and a dedication to the deal.

When dinner is done, I push away from the table and follow Roxley as we retire to his study. It�s where we go to rest and digest and where the �work� of these meetings get done. Once we leave the dining hall, Ali pops back into existence next to me, coming back from having his own conversation with Roxley�s companion.

�The Yerick,� Roxley begins, glass of blue liquid held in his hand. I have a cup of coffee in mine. �Will be staying. There are still some minor matters to be settled, but the First Fist Ulrick and I have come to an agreement on all substantial matters.�

I grunt, leaning forwards and wait for him to elaborate on that if he will. I doubt it though.

�The Yerick will be purchasing a series of buildings in the East along Fourth Street. They will be opening a number of shops when they do so, including another Armourer and a Weaponsmith along with some sundry goods production,� Roxley says. �Mostly though, they will be doing what the Yerick do best � Adventuring.

�How much trouble will your Council give me?�

�One. Not my Council. I�m just one member and really, we�re there as a single vote,� I repeat for the hundredth time. �Two, officially none. Three, stupid people are stupid.�

Richard nods slowly, tilting his head to the side. �You expect some will act against the Yerick?�

�Didn�t some try with Xev?�

�Yes. I decided not to look into it at that time.�

�Best to do that again,� I reply and wave downwards to where the Yerick are. �If you can keep them here till guest rights are removed, the Yerick probably can deal with the problem makers themselves.�

�And you want me to stay out of it,� Roxley raises an eyebrow and I open my hands.

�Getting you involved just complicates matters. When you side with the Yerick, they�ll resent you which means the Council gets more flack for working with you. If you stay out of it, it�s just a bunch of idiots being idiots. That, the Council can handle,� I reply and don�t add the �I hope� I tack on to the sentence in my head.

�Very well,� Roxley nods and I relax slightly. Working with Roxley is somewhat easier than the Council since his motives are relatively clear, at least in the short-term. Grow Whitehorse and make it a powerful base to work from. Everything else from flows that single objective.

�Now, you had something to report?� Roxley just continues to smile, looking at me over the rim of his glass and I feel a wash of emotion once again staring at him. Damn but he�s hot.

I deal with the new visitors first, listing their names and numbers and watch the Quest completion notifications pop-up. Fewer than I expected actually, significantly fewer.

�Ali?�

�About two-thirds of those you brought back came from Whitehorse initially. Looks like the Quest isn�t updating for those,� Ali replies in my mind.

That dealt with, I explain the reason for their return � the monster lair. I keep the description of the events brief and to the point, flicking a map over at Roxley�s request.

�And you went in,� Roxley states.

�Yes,� I nod and Roxley rubs his head, looking at Ali.

�Your companion did not advise against it?�

�No,� I shake my head and he nods again.

�You play a dangerous game spirit,� he locks eyes with Ali, voice cold. �The rules may be loose, but they are not that loose.�

Ali smirks and just floats in the air and I watch the by-play for a moment before I just ask, �Explanation. One of you two.�

�I will leave the spirit to it,� Roxley waves his hand, dismissing the topic. Past experience has shown that he won�t budge on that, so I just make a note to follow up with Ali. Realising I have no more business to discuss, Roxley smiles and waves to a door.

I narrow my eyes, knowing that�s the wrong door. You have to admit, the man is persistent and direct.

�No, not tonight,� I stand, shaking my head and head to the foyer exit. Roxley�s eyebrow rises and I jerk a thumb at Ali. �I got a conversation to finish.�

Roxley nods slightly, for a moment a look of fleeting sadness crosses his face and I just want to kiss it away. I push it aside with a thought and keep walking. I told Lana the truth � Roxley and I aren�t like that. As much as I want to, as much fun as it could be, I can�t trust anything to do with him. Not the feelings I have, not his motivations, not even my own.

�So, Ali, talk,� we�re by the river, the sun finally dipping below the horizon. Still enough sunlight to see by so I�m not surprised that there are a few Farmers still working in the park-farm on my way over. I watch the water lap at the riverbanks and wait.

�How come they cancelled Baywatch but kept Law & Order? I mean, it�s the same thing � the same stories told over and over again but one has women in swimsuits and the other, well, lawyers,� Ali says. I don�t answer directly, instead pulling up the Companion menu and hovering a finger over the �Dismiss� button.

�Alright, alright. Goblins-arse, I really wish you hadn�t found that,� Ali mutters and then shrugs. �Roxley�s just concerned that I�m pushing you too hard.�

I look to the Spirit for a moment, putting things together in my mind before speaking, �The lair. You weren�t supposed to let us go at all right.�

�Yup. Monster lairs are dangerous. Monsters often fight harder than they would because that�s their home you know. Generally, you really shouldn�t be entering dungeons or lairs of your level, especially without your class skills,� Ali says.

�So, stay away from Level 14 creatures?� I ask incredulously.

�28. Or close to it at least � the maths gets fuzzy with your perk,� Ali waggles his hand in the air, making shadow puppets in the water as he floats. �Sabre makes a difference and your pals do too.�

�And you didn�t say anything,� I point out, watching the spirit contemplatively. I should feel something � anger, betrayal, annoyance, but all I have is a comforting numbness. Too soon maybe to react, or just another pile of shit to watch out for.

�I don�t like wasting my breath,� Ali replies and floats over to me. �You annoyed a Salamander when you were Level 4. Fought a Boss more than double your level � your real level. You�re practising the Honor Guards techniques by yourself, without instruction. And those are just the highlights of the stupid reel.�

�So, what? Let me do stupid things anyway? Let me drag my friends to their death because I don�t know when I�m out-classed?� Oh. I�m not numb -I�m just so angry I�ve come out the other side.

�I�ve tried, you�ve refused. You fight when you should run, run when you should fight. You�re unpredictable because you don�t even know what you want. One day, you�re hiding from the world, the next you�re on Sabre riding out to meet monsters. You get your ass kicked, you get back up and fight. People ask you to lead, you run away. You say you want to hide but every chance, you�re out there fighting,� Ali states quickly, rapid fire.

�I��

�No, let me finish. Our first conversation, you asked me to find a way for you to survive, to get out of the Park. Right after that, you also asked me for something that would let you stand up to anything, to kick its ass in the future. You didn�t ask me for a transportation method out, you didn�t ask for a spaceship, you didn�t even ask for Credits. You asked for the power to kick ass,� Ali points a finger at me. �You keep going spinning around and around and you expect me to know what the hell you want? Fuck that.�

Shit.

I pause and just look at my actions for once, everything that I�ve done, all the small choices I�ve made. �Shit��

�Exactly. Get your damn head out of your ass and tell me what you want to do and I�ll help. That�s my job. Till then, I�ll provide you the best advice I can, but don�t fucking ask me to read your mind.�

I nod jerkily, staring away from him at the river. Fuck. He�s right, of course he�s right. I just, I can�t� I shudder, hands clasping before me. I can�t deal with this, I can�t. But I can�t go on like this either. �Ali, I�m sorry.�

Ali jerks his head at that, spinning around and then sighs, floating back to me. �I�ve been jerking you around too. I�ve been pushing you, to get tougher, to get harder. You need it, needed it. The System, it�s not kind, not to people in Dungeon worlds. It gets worse before it gets better.�

�I know,� my answer is a whisper, shivering. I know. Damn it, but I know. I saw the things in Kluane, I know how out-leveled we are. I still remember the bones. I just can�t� �Help me, please.�

�Of course,� his lips twist slightly, Ali floating back down to eye-level. �That�s what I�m here for.�

I jerkily nod, shivering in the cold as I stare in the river. My mind shifts and skitters, trying to find purchase as my emotions roil beneath me. �Ali, please, no more half-truths, no more hiding shit or playing mysterious guru. I need you to be straight with me, even if you don�t think it�s worth it.�

�Fine. On that note � reconsider your stance on Roxley,� Ali says.

�What?� I frown and then my eyes narrow. �You just want to watch.�

�Yes, but also, he�s a Truinnar noble � out of favor perhaps, but still a noble. His favor could open doors for us in the future,� Ali states matter-of-factedly.

�Sleep with him to get my way?� I can�t help but frown at that.

Ali shrugs again, �What do you think he�ll be doing to you? Anyway, you�re so backed up, I swear, I can see it coming out of your ears.�

�I do not need advice on my love life from you,� I state, quite seriously and the rage under my voice clamps Ali mouth shut. Good. I turn back to the water, keeping my hands clasped as I work to get my emotions back under control.

An hour later, I find myself knocking on a door. When she comes out, I can tell she�s been sleeping but her smile breaks out when she sees me.

�Hi! I didn�t expect to see you so soon,� she whispers, voice low as we try to avoid waking up anyone else.

�Care to go for a walk?� I murmur, gesturing away and she pauses for a moment before nodding, ducking back in to grab her coat.

Ali was right. It has been too long. Karen steps out, sneaking around the bodies that make up the school, clutching her thin robe to a tight body and somehow having brushed her brown hair in the few seconds since I�ve seen her. I smile slightly, enjoying the sight and the lack of complications here as I take her hand and lead her to the water.

Chapter 20

�Morning!� I greet everyone at the breakfast table. What I get is chilly silence from Lana, an uncomfortable look from Richard and Rachel�s snort. Richard�s latest conquest takes one look at the situation, gives him a quick kiss and heads out, swaying a bountiful ass on the way out.

�Ohayō Baka,� is Mikito�s reply as she turns to me, placing her bowl of rice down.

�You know, I know what that means,� I point out, frowning at her. She just turns back to her breakfast and I look at the group.

�What?� Shit, were the Yerick that much of an issue? I thought we had talked it out yesterday.

Lana stands up, dumping her plate in the sink and walks out, never once saying a word to me. I open my mouth then shut it, before looking to the others. �Richard�?�

�Nope. Not a chance,� Richard holds his hands up and looks to Rachel. �You good to hit the Shop?�

She nods at that, standing up and they repeat the plate dumping action. As she walks past me, Rachel whispers under her breath �Jerk�.

I�m just left standing there, dumb-founded. What the hell? �Mikito?�

�Baka,� she just replies and concentrates on her food while I puzzle it out. Fine, this sounded personal. The only thing that I did that could have been personal was Karen � but really? Lana pretty much told me to go get laid, so what the hell? I don�t get women. I really, really, don�t.

As I finish working it out, I realise Mikito�s gone and left the kitchen, leaving me with the dishes. Now that�s just mean.

My team having dispersed to do their own thing, I find myself with nothing to do. At least, nothing that I want to do but someone has to. I�m not exactly sure when I became the diplomat for the god damn human race in Whitehorse, but well, here I am. Waiting to see Capstan to have a chat with him while Ali, back in his invisible mode at my request, does handstands.

The door opens and Capstan walks in and I realise what the higher ceilings and wider doorframe of Roxley�s base are for. When you deal with a wide variety of beings, you make certain concessions to architecture. I wonder how long it�ll take us to figure that one out. Up close, Capstan is even bigger and more imposing, his movements having that feral grace that you see in large cats. He carries no obvious weapons though he continues to wear his simple dark brown bodysuit with armor plates. It�s expensive armor � lighter, stronger and easier to replace than the ones we bought.

He studies me at the same time, eyes flicking over my form and up above me before he speaks, voice rumbling like a series of rocks ground together, �Greetings of the morning to you Redeemer of the Dead John Lee.�

�Ali, does he have a system companion too?� I think to Ali, putting on a closed lip smile to the minotaur. No baring teeth � that might be bad.

�It�s First Fist Ulrick, and probably not. Adventuring families often purchase the Class Skill Observe from the Shop for their children when they can,� Ali answers.

�Good Morning First Fist Ulrick,� I parrot and then blink, realizing what just happened �You speak English?�

�Yes,� Capstan continues and then stops, patiently waiting.

�So�� I look at him and then brace myself, deciding to just say what I came here to say, �Look, you probably guessed, but there are people who aren�t thrilled with your presence. Especially in such large numbers.�

�Yes,� Capstan says again.

�I believe Roxley�s asked you to keep your people indoors till you aren�t his guests anymore, but I wanted to add, it might be an idea for your people to move together in pairs. Well, not you obviously,� I add, �but, those who aren�t able to defend themselves.�

�You are threatening us?� Capstan rumbles and I hold my hand up. Capstan growls and I pause, freezing in space as I realise that might not go over well. Right, cultural differences.

�No, not me. Warning, not threatening. It�s�� I frown, then continue �look, idiots are idiots. I don�t, the City Council doesn�t, have control over everyone. Not the way we work, so some of those idiots, well, they might do something stupid. I�d like it if that stupid thing didn�t end up with anybody dead.�

�You are asking that we not kill our attackers,� Capstan rumbles again and standing next to him, I realise I can smell the musky tang that I�ve come to associate with livestock.

�Well, put that way, probably?� I say, �It�ll make your life more difficult and probably mine.�

�You are a leader here,� Capstan says.

�Yes. And no. I have an Adventuring Party and we�re one of the highest leveled, so I�ve got some influence but I�m not in the chain of command,� I state bluntly. No reason to lie here and if he knows the truth, hopefully, he won�t expect miracles.

Capstan copies my nod, the motion jerky and unnatural on the creature.

�System bought language skills often come with body language knowledge too,� Ali says helpfully next to me. �Also, if you didn�t guess, he�s amused.�

�Amused? How the hell is he amused?� I squint at the large Yerick and still can�t see how Ali is getting amused from the giant brown, fur covered boulder in front of me.

�Check his tail. Also, he�s tapped his hand on his leg thrice,� Ali replies as the same time Capstan says, �We will not kill humans if we can Redeemer.�

�Thanks. Do you mind me asking, what your plans are?� I say.

�If the stars will it, we will settle and build. A Dungeon World is a lucrative world and if Lord Roxley allows us to do so, we will Adventure and earn the blessings of the System,� Capstan answers again, his hand splaying at the start of what he said.

�Ah�� I frown, thinking and then shrug. If we�ve got to have them here, then we might as well have them on our side. �Once you�re settled, talk to me? Might be able to give you a few directions about what�s out there.�

�That will be done Redeemer,� Capstan does his jerky head nod thing again and Ali to my side snorts.

�Well, I guess that is it. I�m sure you and Roxley still have more to discuss,� I automatically offer my hand and then wince, already beginning to withdraw. However, Capstan does not react to it with aggression this time and so I let it hang out there where he stares at it before reaching out to clasp it, engulfing my entire hand and half of my arm in his. Then he squeezes.

Son-of-a-bitch! He crushes down on my hand and I reflexively squeeze back, both of us locked in a sudden contest of strength. Of course, he�s got the advantage considering I�m squeezing only a tiny portion of his body, but he�d win anyway. I can feel bones creak and muscles begin to mush and anger flares in me, my lips curling in a full snarl. Capstan just returns my gaze, no trace of anger or bloodlust in there. Just as I begin to get ready to curse him out and stab him, he lets go and steps back.

�May we see the dawn again together Redeemer,� Capstan rumbles and I glare at him.

�Ali, tell me that Alpha-male bullshit is part of their culture,� I think furiously at my companion. I came here to keep things peaceful, not start the fight myself.

�You should be happy, he thought you were tough enough to test to see who has a bigger dick. Which, by the way, he does,� Ali pauses and continues. �Literally. Yerick are famed for it actually. The occasional Yerick that gets into the business does really well for himself.�

I�ve already tuned Ali out after the first few words for the most part, a skill I�ve learnt a while ago, �Goodbye Capstan.�

I then walk out, chanting the minor heal spell in my mind as I leave. Mana infuses my bones, knitting things together and smoothing out crushed muscles, �Ali, why the hell did he feel the need to test me?�

�Uh, you told him you were one of the leaders. Also, if you�ve forgotten, you�ve got two titles, an Advanced class and more levels than him. At least from what he could read,� Ali shrugs. �Not his fault you cheat.�

Put that way, it makes sense but� �This is going to happen a lot isn�t it?�

�Yup. Get stronger faster boy-o,� Ali notes grimly and I sigh.

Fuck. As if I needed another reason to run around getting shot at.

It�s been ages since I�ve done this, gone hunting by myself. As much as I like the team, there�s a liberating feeling being out here alone without having to worry about where people are and how they are doing. No need to worry about their inability to run away or sneak up on enemies, just me and the shadows.

I�m over an hour and a half from Whitehorse, deep in the forests and up a mountain after taking a pair of backtrails that came off the highway. I doubt a single other human has been down this way since the System turned on, the roads so badly damaged and washed out that I�d switched to armor mode to traverse it.

Such a strange thing, sneaking around with Sabre in armor mode. It should be a lot harder than it is, sliding from shadow to shadow without disturbing a leaf and yet, more than once, I manage to locate my prey and kill it with a single shot or strike without it ever noticing me. If I had to guess, it�s the damn System adjusting reality, pulling shadows closer, making the steps I place softer and lighter.

The forest around me is quiet and strange, the typical Yukon alpine forest of spruce, willow and fir trees having mutated, some growing spikes, others gaining a new sheen to their bark. I accidentally brush against a tree that was once a paper birch and set the contact point on fire. The fire dies away after a moment, leaving the tree unharmed and me with a thundering heart. In addition to the mutated trees, additional fast-growing vines drape the area between trees. The vines are dotted with bright red flowers, some already fruiting with a fleshy, reddish-yellow oval fruit. I�ve taken a few of the flowers and fruit, figuring that at the least Sally might know what they are. Thus far, she�s been less than enthused with the various flora and fauna available in the Yukon natively. Of course, there�s always hope that the mutated variety might be of greater use.

It�s the silence that gets me, the lack of birds or other animals a sign that something nasty is out there. It has been like this for the last half-hour but whatever it is, I hadn�t come across signs of it until now. And what a sign it is.

�Earth elemental,� Ali confirms and I eye the ground before me. The earth isn�t just torn up, it looks churned � as if the ground itself pulled itself apart and then was dropped by a very large, angry toddler. Shattered and uprooted trees give a clear indication of the elemental�s path and for a moment, I almost think of going back. Almost.

It�s an hour of fast-moving to catch up to the elemental, only slowing down once I�m close. I gently pull myself up the top of the hill, sticking my head above it to see the creature continuing its journey. Finding it would have been a little faster if it didn�t randomly just move around, though now that I look at it, I wonder if it was so random.

Thirty feet long and twenty feet wide at a guess, the elemental moves on six legs along the ground with a head that is reminiscent of a toddler made sculpture of a lizard. As it moves, the earth churns up around in a reverse waterfall before falling away behind it, the gold its sifting for sticking to its body. My jaw drops as I stare at the creature, already, half its body is plated in gold from the bottom up.

�System�s balls � that�s not an Earth Elemental, that�s a Metal Elemental!� Ali says next to me as he stares at it. Even as he spots the creature, the status bar fills in.

Metal Elemental (Level 43)

HP: 2470/2470

As if the creature can hear Ali, it cranes its neck around and then slowly lumbers around. My eyes widen and then I look at the spirit who suddenly looks sheepish.

�Shit boy-o, forgot they can see me. Best get killing,� Ali points and starts floating upwards and out of range of the creature.

I don�t have to be asked twice, cursing the little Spirit as I bring my rifle to bear. I depress the trigger and am rewarded by the flash of the beam striking it, flakes of gold burning off. I continue firing, grinning slightly even as the creature begins to pick up steam. 300 hundred meters when a creature is 30 feet long isn�t that far at all, but I�m not worried.

�Oh, John, the QSM won�t work either. Elementals are like spirits, we exist in multiple dimensions at the same time,� Ali calls out from above and I curse him again as I throw myself to the side, attempting to roll away from it. The elemental clips me as I unsuccessfully get out of the way, sending me spinning through a series of trees before I come to a standstill. Vertigo takes me for a moment and I can feel the bruises coming already but nothing major seems broken.

I look up, the creature slowing down from its charge and beginning to turn which lets me open fire. Slow on the turns eh? I grin and start running in a circle, opening fire as I go and dodging around trees when I can and on a few occasions, just going through them. I�m careful not to do that too often though � some of these trees have mutated enough that I probably would bounce right off. Stupid damn System. There�s no reason why, if I can bench press a tank that I can�t jump through a tree � even if the tree itself can hold, its roots should tear out from the earth. Then again, under the influence of mana and the System, straight Newtonian physics has long ago taken a bow and exited stage left. Some things just don�t make sense.

Running and shooting is easy, and I chip away at the creature�s health for long minutes even as it pulls more metal towards it, regenerating the damage. I�m winning the damage game until my rifle does a distressing beep and I realise I�m out of charges. I move to reload and realise I�ve already done it once. Oh shit�

I keep jogging as I slap the rifle back into its resting slot above my shoulder and try to decide what to do next, eyeing the monstrosity�s health. Only half down and that�s with me using both mana batteries. I could possibly outrun the creature, though a glance at Sabre�s battery indicates I�m taxing it too. Fighting the creature without Sabre would be suicide, so I can hope to run and risk getting caught when I am out of power or I can fight it now. Really, who am I kidding?

A savage grin tearing my face apart, I rush it. Right then, quadruped with a big, wide body. The play here is simple � get close, get on top and stab at it from above till it dies. I rush the elemental, going straight for its face and as it goes for a bite, I jump and use its head to vault myself upwards onto its back. At the apex of my jump, I call forth my sword and lead the attack with it, slamming into the earth and metal body of the creature. I feel the sword bite in deep and then the body shudders, the sword snapping in my grip. That was a first in a while � as I leveled, so had my weapon and its durability and sharpness had increased considerably.

I grin, crouched with a leg splayed out behind me and a hand on its body as I call forth my sword again. Just as I am about to plunge the blade, a spike made of gold forms from the body, impaling my back thigh. It�s only a last-minute jerk of my body that stops another spike from impaling my torso and I scream into my helmet as I swing at the spike that impales me, shattering it.

Another second as I roll away, spikes jutting out from the creature�s body as it continues its unconventional attack. I kick off with my good foot, sending me spinning blindly into the trees and coming to a rest a good forty feet away, a thick gouge in the earth marking my landing site.

Pushing past the pain, I grab the golden spike and pull it out of my leg and slap against my helmet. A moment later, a potion appears in my hand from my inventory and I�m chugging it down before casting a quick healing. Already, the wound in my leg is closing up and I�m able to stand to face the charging creature. As it lunges to me again, I jump directly at it and to the left, twisting myself around so that I slide on my back on the ground. I lash out with my sword as I do so, chipping at the gold of the creature�s body and managing to carve a chunk of gold off.

On my feet, I back off as quickly as I can even as the elemental spins to me as I begin casting Lightning Strike, struggling not to sneeze from the dust that the creature has kicked up. The mana pulls from my body as the chant runs through my mind, a hand held up forth before me. The casting takes too long and I trigger another jump backwards as I dodge around a spike. As I land, the spell nears completion and Ali flies down next to me, putting his hand on mine and connecting us further, willing a touch of his own Elemental Affinity into the bolt of lightning as it exits my body.

Power rushes out of me, super-charged by Ali, and the cackling electricity slams into the creature, shocking it still. The elemental writhes as the charge runs through it, conducted directly into its core and super-heating the metal. Gold heats up and begins to melt, dropping from the body onto the ground as the elemental loses control over the metal. I focus, pouring everything that I have into the spell, my mana dropping like a waterfall. With Ali directly connected to me and lending his aid, I can feel the electrons ripping free in the air. The elemental is locked in pain, unable to move to attack me as its health drops at a precarious rate just like my mana. This is going to be close.

Eleven seconds and then I drop, mana drained entirely from my body. My head feels like it�s been filled with wool and I can�t focus properly, eyesight fading in and out. I find myself slumping down and forcing breaths through my body, wondering why there�s a little part of me screaming and shouting that I should be doing something more important. I shut it away and I fall backwards, looking up at the clear blue sky.

I�m not sure how long I�m out but when I wake up, Ali is hovering over me playing cards. I groan, slowly shifting up to look around. Where the elemental was, a slag heap of gold and earth stands. Crap � I fainted in the middle of a fight.

�How long was I out?� I try to stand up, my head spinning and I find myself sitting down again when I regain control.

�About 20 minutes. Drink your mana potion, it�ll help,� Ali continues to play his cards, the game nothing that I recognise. A spread of seven piles with cards laid out in a fan-shape, Ali occasionally moving one card from one pile to another or dealing a new card from the deck in his hand.

I don�t argue, following his directions. My hand hesitates between the cheaper or more expensive one and my inner miser makes me pull the cheap potion and down it. The relief is immediate, the wooziness dropping to a manageable level. Right, first thing first � loot. I�m sure Ali will tell me if there�s any danger, not that I�m in any condition to deal with more trouble. I don�t even look at the loot I get, grabbing and dumping it into my inventory as I struggle not to throw up.

�Ali, map this for me will you. We�ll want to get the body later,� I eye the fused golden body of the elemental and a part of me does a little dance at the sheer amount of gold there is. Then again, is gold worth anything anymore?

Glumly, I consider the fact that gold might just be worthless before I push the thoughts aside. Something for later. I look to Ali who sees that I�m mostly done and he waggles his fingers again.

Lightning Strike Enhanced!

You have combined Lightning Strike with your Spirit Companion�s Elemental Affinity to empower the spell. Description updated.

Lightning Strike

Effect: Call forth the power of the gods, casting lightning. Lightning strike may affect additional targets depending on proximity, charge and other conductive materials on-hand. Does 100 points of electrical damage.

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by20% per level of affinity

Mana Withdrawal

You are suffering from severe mana withdrawal.

Effect: -80% recovery rates. -80% to all stats. Inability to cast spells till withdrawal effects are over.

Duration: Withdrawal effects will reduce by 1% for every 1% of mana regained

Metal Elemental (Level 43) Slain

+7000 XP

Seriously, no level up? I look at the experience marker and grimace. Trying to level an Advanced Class sucked. I push the thought away again, worrying about something I can�t change isn�t particularly useful.

�Why was the elemental so much harder to kill? I mean, we kicked the ass of the troll with ease and the elemental isn�t that much higher,� I ask.

�Mikito had worn it down a bunch � even if it was regenerating, getting your ass kicked around takes a toll. Also, this was a bad match. Beam energy weapons don�t work as well, and well, your biggest hitter only really worked because I was around,� Ali shrugs and continues. �Metal elementals are tough against physical attackers and you don�t have access to your class skills to bypass its armor. Frankly, if you didn�t have Sabre on, you�d be dead. Then again, that�s not new either.�

I nod and groan, a throbbing pain in my leg making itself known as I come down from my adrenaline high. It�ll heal soon enough, but till then, I�m just going to have to suffer. Can�t even cast anything with the mana withdrawal going-on. Definitely time to call it a day.

�Mr. Lee,� I am flagged down as I drive into Whitehorse, head still pounding a little. I groan, seeing that it�s Fred and Minion but pull over. Playing diplomat sucks, but if making sure we don�t start a war in our own city is the result, I can suck it up like a big boy. I can�t help the little bit of anger, of resentment that creeps into my voice though.

�Fred, M�� I pause and then look at his name, �Eric.�

Eric � Minion�s � eyes narrow but he does not say anything. Fred smiles, waiting for me to clamber off my bike before he speaks. �I hear you have spoken with Lord Roxley and the minotaurs?�

�Yerick. I�ve spoken with the Yerick and Roxley, yes,� I answer.

�Tell me, what did you learn?� Fred smiles ingratiatingly, leaning forward to come into my space just a little.

I shiver, feeling the need to wash as he smiles at me, �Not much. The Yerick are Adventurers mostly, some craftsmen. They�ll be joining us at Roxley�s invitation and will be buying buildings from the Shop. That should get us closer to the safe zone mark, help us stabilise the city more�

I watch Fred as I speak, hoping the news about the buildings will make him happy. I know there�s a lot of pressure to get us to that 80% mark, but the cost of doing so is staggering � especially when you consider our needs for the future. We�re only at 40% but even that is helping to stabilise the number of spawnings already. �The rest, well, I figure someone like you or Miranda would be more appropriate to discuss with them. I�m sure the Yerick would be happy to talk with you about how they fit into our little community.�

I�m laying it on a little thick, but I can see Fred grab at the sentence and run with it. �Yes, we�ll need to talk about the contributions they can provide and maybe they could join the business association.�

�Of course,� I nod blandly, already mentally checking out. To my side, Minion�s eyes narrow and his fists clench as Fred blathers on more to himself about how to integrate this new community in our city.

�Evening then, gentlemen.� I smile and get on my bike, heading to see Xev. Thank god it was only armor plating this time, should be a pretty quick fix. I wave hi to her, drop the bike off and take the offer to be dropped off via tandem bike. All I want is my bed and peace and quiet. Just for a few hours. I really need to make sure never to drain myself like that again.

Chapter 21

Breakfast the next day is more civil, everyone seeming to have settled down. Lana doesn�t serve me like she normally does, but no one is giving me the cold shoulder either. However, conversation is stilted, long pauses breaking up conversational gambits. Most, since Mikito continues to quietly eat her rice without participating as usual.

As we finish, I tap the table to get everyone�s attention. When they look at me, I say, �Today�s day 3 of the guest rights. The Yerick have said they�ll keep indoors �till tomorrow, so that leaves us a day of peace. I think we should try the cave today.�

Richard and the others look at each other before he sits forward, staring at me. �What�s this brilliant plan?�

I grin, waving Ali over and together, we outline what we know and what we plan. When we are done, the group sits there in silence, Richard scratching as his beard and frowning, Lana with a slight quirky smile on her lips, Mikito calm and collected and Rachel smirking.

�Man, that�s kind of broken isn�t it?� Rachel replies, shaking her head as she spins an unlit cigarette around her finger.

I flash her a grin, shrugging, �If it works, sure. We�ll need help though.�

Rachel wrinkles her nose and then nods, �I know just the people.�

The group slowly nods and we quickly assign the last of the tasks we need to do. As I head towards the door, Lana grabs my arm and says. �Sorry about yesterday.�

�What was it about?� I prod her, wanting confirmation about what I�ve guessed. I�m dense but not stupid.

�Nothing important. Not right now. You just make sure to bring them back okay,� her eyes flicking over to her younger brother betraying which one she really means. I know, she likes us all but it�s her brother. I don�t blame her.

�I�ll be the last one out,� I promise her and she lets go of me. Alright then, time to go kill something. At the thought, I can feel the slow thrum of anticipation run through me. Yes, definitely time to kill some monsters.

I squat outside the cave, a couple of hours ahead of the rest of the crew. They are headed into Carcross first before joining me. Me, I�ve got to get the initial part of the plan going � scouting out the cave. Ali pointed out to me that while the Wil-o-wisp might be interesting, it wasn�t exactly subtle in its presence and the Shadow-aspected Crilik shifters could kill it. Instead, we compromised by purchasing a bigger mana battery for the drone and a second one just in case. Expensive, but it�s not as if I have a better choice.

Ali�s watching the doorway, actually paying attention since he can�t automatically scan for monsters while I watch the drone map the caves. I keep it high and near the ceilings, running in infrared vision and letting out low-level radar pings, enough to create 3D maps of the area it travels through. Hooked into Sabre, the cave renders in exquisite detail in my helmet visor. Best of all, the Crilik shifters don�t have a clue.

The cave system isn�t that big, not really. Just over half-a-kilometer long with about five main caverns. The Crilik move about too much for me to get an accurate count, but at a rough guess, I�m looking at just above 40 of the shifters include a nasty looking Alpha that is nearly double the size of the next largest shifter. The Alpha prowls the last few caves, and after a time I notice that there are some shifters that are smaller than the others, half-again the size in some cases. Right, monster lair.

When the team arrives, they come with extra help. Both Jason and Mike have been added to the team, though they�ve been sworn to secrecy about Sabre for now. At this point, I�m seriously wondering why I bother with it but it�s habit by now. Rachel moves to the cave entrance the moment we arrive, hands raised as she begins to pull stone from the earth to form walls and a ceiling around the entrance. Richard walks forwards, the Huskies ranging out beside him even as Elsa is dropped down next to him. Above, Orel watches from a perch right above me. Richard lets loose with a series of flares, lighting up the front cave fully and then settles in to keep an eye for the Shifters.

Mikito and Jason get to work, felling trees with blade and magic in quick order before slicing them into pieces that are less cumbersome for Gadsby to carry. Gadsby, grinning carries logs about double his size on his shoulders with ease, bouncing into the cave and stacking them up just like you would if you were making a campfire.

By this time, I�ve brought the drone back to the second cave and are watching the shifters. They prowl the edges of the light, waiting for us to move in but don�t take further action. No surprise there, the compendium indicated they weren�t the smartest creatures in the world, mostly ambush hunters. Since we aren�t moving deep into their territory, they are willing to wait and watch our strange actions.

Superhuman strength and speed means that the preparations are completed really quickly and I gesture for Mikito and Richard to come to me. They take the sensor data I have and while the others wait, we spread out over the mountainside. This is the tricky part � we want to block off enough airways to reduce airflow, but not too much or else we�ll just kill the fire completely. Ali and I figure about half should do it, or at least we hope so. Not as if either of us are arsonists or firefighters. The insta-cement pouches we pull from inventory work fast and set within moments of application, filling our respective holes within moments of application.

By the time we�re back, the entrance has a nice overhang and is enclosed with stone with only a single wide opening left. Richard and Elsa start the ball rolling, moving deeper to get in range before Elsa begins to breathe, flames licking at the wet logs till Elsa has to stop. We pull them back and Jason takes over, sending wind in a steady roar to fan the flames and more importantly, create the smoke we need. I wish I knew what was going on inside the cave, but I�ve already recalled the drone to keep it from getting damaged. However, the howls that start emanating from inside let us know that the Crilik aren�t happy.

There�s little more to do, Gadsby, Mikito and I are the front-line at the cave entrance while the flames roar, wet tinder super-heated by the turtle creating quite a bit of smoke and blocking lines of sight. We catch sight of something moving behind the flames, snarling at the fire before it disappears behind smoke and shadows and then there�s silence.

Now we just wait, as smoke continues to build in the cave system, forcing the creatures to choose to die from asphyxiation or run through the flames to meet us out here. Of course, half-a-kilometer of caves would take a while to fill with smoke fully, so Gadsby has the enjoyable task of hauling the extra wood we chopped and adding it as necessary.

�You know, this just feels wrong,� mutters Gadsby during one particular long stretch of waiting and Jason nods in agreement.

Jason falls silent for a moment, letting the wind from his spell die down as he watches to see how the fire is going. Spotting an area that has not lit, he calls forth a spear of flame and throws it, the spear erupting and setting the logs on fire. Jason turns to me then, hand absently pawing a pair of glasses that are no longer there, �Not a game right.�

�No, not at all,� I reply and narrow my eyes, trying to spot the monsters. No game, just our fucked-up lives. This could take a while, but we�ve got the time, the wood and the discipline to wait.

The first sign of trouble comes after a few hours, a trio of Crilik panicking and rushing us. The first takes a shot to the head from my rifle and drops, the second slips and thrashes in the flames and the third is met by Mikito and her blade and loses its head. An hour later, we get a series of notifications that more Crilik have perished.

Then nothing, as time drags on. Gadsby heads away to grab more wood when the fire begins to die down and that�s when the remaining Crilik charge us. Stripped of their main advantage in combat by the fires, strength and stamina sapped by the carbon dioxide poisoning they�ve been going through, the fight is a massacre. It doesn�t stop them from charging though.

I launch a Lighting Strike in, joined by a more powerful and impressive attack of the same form by Jason and the bolts dance between the bodies, jumping from creature to creature and forcing more than one to fall into the fire. Rachel flicks her hands, stone spears launching from the ground to impale other monsters that make it through the first magical barrage. Behind us, Richard works his shotgun as they close to his range, targeting those in the lead. They lose more than half their numbers in this way and then are forced to funnel to where Mikito and I wait, blades drawn to end this. Gadsby rushes back to join us and Mikito meets the Boss herself, polearm dancing in strikes that keep the creature off-balance and on the defense. I occasionally slip aside, letting a Crilik out so that the Huskies can grab it and savage the creature while I fight the others. Next to me, Gadsby smashes his opponents into paste with armored metal fist and truncheon.

As I said, it�s a massacre. Already damaged from the run through the fire and carbon dioxide poisoning and stripped of their greatest weapon, they are no match for us. When the fight is over, we�re left panting but victorious over the bodies. We grin at each, and then as a group, we begin to go over the notices we�ve been given.

Quest Complete!

You have cleared the Carcross Cave of Crilik Shifters!

10,000 XP Awarded. Reputation increase in the village of Carcross.

Level Up! * 2

You have reached Level 16 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 18 Free Attribute Points to distribute.

Class Skills Locked

I scream with joy, breaking out into an impromptu dance. Fucking finally! I can�t help but grin, ignoring the shocked looks everyone else is giving me. I needed just one more damn level and I get 2! Allocating a few additional points to my Charisma stat and I�m good to go.

�Problem John?� Gadsby asks, not looking directly at me and scanning the surroundings.

�No, I just got my class skills,� I grin widely.

�No need to scream like a little girl you know, we all got levels,� Jason replies, grumbling as he rubs the ear nearest to me.

�No, you don�t understand. I just got my class skills unlocked. Finally,� I can�t help but bounce a bit on my feet, no longer feeling the need to hide that particular lack.

�What?� Richard turns around and stares at me and I realise most everyone else is as well. �How the fuck have you been keeping up with us without your skills? I just thought you were dumping them all into physical stats like your Constitution.� Mikito nods firmly at that and Jason just stares at me, mouth open.

�Nope, just haven�t had access to them yet,� I chuckle evilly, rubbing my hands together in thought. Oooh, the things I could do.

�Broken. You�re a fucking broken character,� mutters Jason.

�Don�t give the boy-o too big a head. He�d be dead a dozen times over without the Mech. Or me,� Ali points out, smirking at me and I nod in acknowledgement. Fair enough, being able to spot, hide and run away from creatures that truly out-classed me was a huge advantage.

�Are we all going to get locked out of our class skills if we get an Advanced one?� Rachel chimes in to the conversation around the cigarette in her lips, staring at me.

Ali tackles this one immediately, �Nope, sugarplums here is special. Don�t worry about it.�

Rachel nods and Mikito points back into the cave with her naginata. �Work. Dance later.�

The others nod, shooting me curious glances but she is right. Time to get to work. They begin looting the corpses on the outside while Rachel and Jason work to cool the cave down sufficiently for me to head in. Even in Sabre, I�m not exactly looking forward to the walk.

Chapter 22

After we�ve sorted things out, I�m seated at the back of the truck, working on my Status Screen.

Points allocated to Charisma

Class skills unlocked

8 Class Skills Available to be Distributed. Would you like to do so?

Would I? I feel a thrill shoot me and I can�t help but grin widely. Gadsby is riding Sabre with permission as I get busy poking at the details, calling up information on the Class Skills. It�s not as if I don�t have a rough idea about them, not from the information I�ve already purchased, and the hours of video footage in my mind. However, when I pull up the class skills box, there�s another tab right next to it � basic skills.

�Ali, what are these basic skills? They unlock at the same time?� I page over to them immediately and grimace, flicking through the pages at a rush since the sheer volume is staggering. Power Blow, Sprint, First Aid, Mana Dart, Poison, Elemental Imbue. When I pull up the information though, I�m less than impressed

Power Blow

Effect: Physical attack deals 20% more base damage

Cost: 25 Mana

Sprint

Effect: User is able to move at a run 5% faster

Cost: 10 Mana/second

Elemental Imbue

Effect: Imbue your weapon with an elemental effect of choice. Choice must be made upon purchase and may not be changed. +10 Elemental Damage

Cost: 30 Mana / Second

�Not really, you could have bought them before,� Ali turns to me, hands on his hips as he points. �I blocked them so you couldn�t see it, because, well, they are shit. It�s what they catch you with and keeps you power-downed. Just a little bit of a boost, but never good enough to really challenge the patient, the smart or the knowledgeable.�

I twitch at his words, hands wanting to reach out and strangle the little Spirit. Instead, I pull a chocolate bar from inventory and eat it, focusing on the now. He�s not wrong � but this magic rabbit trick thing he�s doing is getting old. I force myself to breathe, thoughts thrumming with anger, �We just talked about you keeping secrets from me.�

Ali pauses, looking me up and down and then his face twitches. It does something I�ve never seen it do before, and for a moment, I can�t figure it out. When I do, I realise it�s the closest thing to remorse I�ve seen on his face. Then he speaks, �Yeah, you�re right.�

�Say again?� I prod him.

�You�re right I said. I�m sorry, we agreed to tell the truth. I�d just been keeping this one for so long, I forgot,� Ali replies and I grunt, anger still simmering but under control. I�m not happy, but at least he apologised and done is done.

I tab back to my class skills and finish up the chocolate, focusing on reading now. I�m not sure I�ll be making all my choices immediately, but knowing what I have to work with is important.

The Honor Guard class skills are broken into three separate tracks, with skills above each track a pre-requisite to more powerful skills beneath. Each track aided the Guard in their regular duties as bodyguards, champions and of course, shock troops for the army.

Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand Blades

Shield Transfererence

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

The first track focused on the Honor Guard�s soulbound weapons, enhancing the potential and damage of each weapon. As I understood it, the options varied in this track slightly depending on the weapon soulbound. Mana Imbue added mana damage to the weapon which bypassed all resistances, Blade Strike extended the range of my weapon, Thousand Blades created extra copies of my soulbound weapon for use and Army of One combined all the above into a massive attack.

The second track allowed the Guard to be effective bodyguards. Two are One shared the damage a target received with the Guard while the Body�s Resolve increased regeneration rates, letting the Guard take more damage. Soul Shield allowed the guard to manifest a shield while Sanctum created a location that stopped all attacks for a short period of time.

The third track involved their ability to move and hit. Thousand steps was a movement buff, Altered Space gave them enhanced inventory storage abilities while blink step was a short-range, line-of-sight teleportation ability. Perhaps the most interesting powerful was Portal � which allowed the Guard to link two locations. Get a single Guard with Portal in your backlines and he could drop an army on you. Or a nuke.

Shield Transference enhanced Soul Shield, allowing users to absorb a portion of any attack to the Shield to enhance their own soulbound weapons. Greater detection allowed the Guard an awareness ability much like Ali�s while Body Swap let the guard to swap places with pre-determined targets, no matter the distance.

Unfortunately, as I prod the skills I realise that some of these skills are still locked. Looks like at least for now, the first 2 levels are the only one�s unlocked, at least till level 30. It�s only at Level 45 that I�d unlock the last tier, but even with that, I�ve got a ton of things to play with. I could just pick up a single level in everything and enhance a single other skill but that might be a touch too simplistic. After all, I�m not entirely sure I need Greater Detection since I have Ali already for one. And ranged attacks with the sword seem interesting, but I�ve got guns for those.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. As I stare at the information, I idly pull out another chocolate bar and chew on it, ignoring the conversations around me. I�ll definitely need to talk to Ali about this at some point.

When we get back to Carcross, I put away the information. The guards at the gate nod to us, waving us through and we find Mrs. O�Keefe on gate duty by sheer coincidence. Another guard has hurried into the meeting hall and the Elder makes her way out slowly. Gadsby gives her the thumbs up and she relaxes and then straightens as if a great load is taken off her.

I hop down, smiling slightly as Jason does his best blas� teenager impression for his mum, while bouncing on his toes slightly. His need to play it cool is obviously warring with his need to tell the story of what we did. Richard just smiles at Mrs. O�Keefe who gives him a quick smile of gratitude back before she turns to her son, guiding him away.

There�s still time to get back if we wish, but at Elder Badger�s and Gadsby�s insistence, we decide to call it a day. Outside of the guards on the wall, the night fast turns into a celebration, food and drink coming out in large quantities. An unlucky moose becomes the centre of the meal, its twenty foot body the feature of the evening.

The night comes on us fast, and I spot even Mikito relaxing slightly through the night, sitting and chatting with a few other melee weapon users. They seem to be comparing weapons and techniques, animatedly discussing moves from their body gestures. Rachel has disappeared into one of the motel�s rooms, dragging along Jason and I idly wonder if it�s romance or knowledge or a little of both that is being shared. As for Richard, well, as usual, he�s the star of the show with people clustered around him, listening to him talk. From the looks the pair of women who sit at his feet have given him, I�m pretty sure he won�t be sleeping alone tonight.

Me? I ghost around the edges, doing my best to blend in to the crowd. I watch them laugh and smile and I wonder why. We destroyed a lair, killed a few monsters but we�re a fucking Dungeon world. It�s just one of a thousand, ten thousand that are going to crop up and we can�t stamp them all out. Then again, just because I don�t feel the party doesn�t mean they shouldn�t enjoy it. So, I stay hidden, blending in. I do so well that I even get a minor notification.

Skill Acquired

Camouflage (Level 1)

It takes skill to disappear in a crowd.

After a while, I realise I can�t even give a damn to put up a face for them all anymore. I head out, leaving Sabre and my team mates behind, sneaking out past the guards while dumping points into my class skills. There are a few things I definitely want, the rest can wait. A single point first, into a few areas.

Class Skills Acquired

Mana Imbue (Level 1)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with mana to deal more damage on each hit. +10 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Class Skills Acquired

Blade Strike (Level 1)

By projecting additional mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 10 feet away.

Cost: 40 Stamina + 40 Mana

Class Skills Acquired

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Class Skills Acquired

Altered Space (Level 1)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 10 cubic feet. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by aura�s that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

I�ll stick close to the town and keep quiet, but there�s no better way to test my new class skills than on a live opponent.

�Ali, the Thousand Steps skill. Doesn�t seem that great to me,� I converse with the invisible Spirit who is working hard on looking out for threats. The night is the time for stealth predators and even though his higher level means he can pick out more of them, we�re still under-leveled for this region. At least in terms of actual levels which unfortunately dictate Ali�s abilities.

�It�s stackable and effects your vehicles boy-o. Think about what a platoon, each with a single use of that is like. Additional points widens �the range too and increases the speed bonus. There are movement specialists in the Guard whose main job is to help get the Guard where they need to be,� Ali replies and I nod slowly. So, not as useful for me but I wonder how the interaction is going to be like with Mikito�s own speed skills. She�s frightening enough as it stands.

My first victim of the night is a slow-moving, dark shelled creature that resembles a turtle if the turtle had spikes in its shell and two heads. I ghost up next to it and cut down fast, beheading the first head with a snick. The second retreats and the spikes flash out, forcing me to dodge. When I step back in to attack, I�m surprised that the blows it catches even on its shell seem to do damage, leaving deep gouges in the armor. Fighting the creature is strange, I have to watch out for its second head as it comes in and out but at the same time, any of its spikes can thrust out at any moment. After the first few passes, I begin to target the spikes themselves as they rotate out, chopping them off with the blade before I finally boot the creature hard enough to make it flip over and let me kill it. Unfortunately, without its spikes to push it up again, its stuck and its ending comes fast. The moment it dies, I loot it and then stick the entire corpse in my Altered Space.

That done, I take a moment to actually take a look at my sword again. Now this was more like it.

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 63

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +10 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Hunting down the next creature takes a while as it seems even the monsters around here have begun to grow wary of the town. My next target actually finds me, swooping down from the trees and nearly tearing my eyes out. If I hadn�t been wearing my helmet, it would have. Its first strike failing to get a proper hold of my head, the owl takes wing and I get my chance to test out Blade Strike.

The quick draw and focused explosive strike leaves me tired as mana rushes through the blade, filling it and extending the slash in a diagonal across the sky. It mostly misses the Owl, only a small section of the strike clipping a wing but it�s enough to send the Owl flipping through the air to land awkwardly on the ground. I stride forward, triggering my ability again and again as I get the timing of the activation down. It doesn�t take long to reduce the poor creature to mangled pieces of meat which is good because I can feel the strain the Strike takes on me. Definitely not a skill to be used too often. Exhaling, I stretch and loot the body, leaving the mangled remains behind this time. Not much eating there for sure.

Satisfied, I head back to Carcross. As little sleep as I need, I do need some. Sneaking back in isn�t much harder than leaving, neither the ditch or the wall a huge obstacle. They definitely need more defenses. Once inside, I flick my hand up, calling access to my Status screen as I dump a few points into Perception and Luck, leaving 5 more for use later when I need a boost. That done, I finally call up my Status screen.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

790

Stamina

790

Mana

630

Status

Normal

Attributes

Strength

Agility

Constitution

Perception

Intelligence

Willpower

Charisma

Luck

Skills

Stealth

Wilderness Survival

Unarmed Combat

Knife Proficiency

Athletics

Observe

Cooking

Sense Danger

Jury-rigging

Explosives

Blade Mastery

PAV Combatics

Energy Rifles

Meditation

Mana Manipulation

Energy Pistols

Dissembling

Erethran Blade Mastery

Lip Reading

Manipulation

Camouflage

Class Skills

Mana Blade

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (I)

Improved Mana Dart (I)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Perks

Spirit Companion

Level 16

Prodigy (Subterfuge)

N/A

Chapter 23

The next morning, I�m seated on Sabre and waiting for everyone to get up. I�m still riding the high of getting my Class skills back and I just can�t wait to go out again, to test myself. It feels like I�ve finally been let loose, and if I had my say I�d be out hunting monsters to really test myself. Instead, I�ve got to wait for the team and of course, the usual traffic that needs us to bring them along. I can�t help but feel a little resentful � it�s not even as though we�re getting any experience from this.

I force myself to calm down again, going back over my status sheet and my remaining Class Skill points. The increase in damage from Mana Imbue was amazing, though the reduction in regeneration rates from it and Altered Space could be worrisome if I ever started using magic more. Before I selected it, I could regenerate my entire pool in 10 minutes, which considering most fights took less than a minute to finish was quite pointless to worry about. On the other hand, in a longer battle, I�m sure that kind of regeneration rate could be important, though that�s why the Guard didn�t rely on magic entirely either. The System might make high-tech weaponry somewhat less useful than you�d think, but it still was a powerful equalizer.

On the other hand, while neither of the first couple of levels were that interesting to me, the Soul Shield class skill was certainly tempting. Being able to project a shield was a powerful ability in any fight. That meant I�d have to put the points in for the preceding skills at some point. Of course, I could just hold off on spending the points till I reached the requisite levels, though that might take a while. Better probably to use it now and get the benefits immediately. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

When the convoy is ready to roll out, I finally pull myself away from my thoughts, having only paid the barest of attention to what is going on around me. The road, however, isn�t the place to be thinking deep thoughts. Around towns, the levels range between 10 � 20 these days, at least for the first few kilometers. It�s only a few kilometers out that the range starts heading up, hitting as much as fifty before dropping again. Unfortunately, this world isn�t a game and while monsters have their preferred hunting grounds, there is nothing stopping them from moving to a new location and we�ve run into higher level monsters in weird locations before. As a group, we could take anything below level 60 if it�s alone but we�ve got hanger-ons.

All that said and done, it�s still no surprise then that the journey into Whitehorse is pretty quiet. I make sure to collect the bodies of the monsters we do encounter into my Altered Space, winking at the party as I do so. I do have to leave the weird half-reptile, half-bird creature on the ground though since it�s just too big to fit. Somehow, it makes sense that the first sign of trouble comes at the gates. A pair of Roxley�s guards are waiting and I�ve been around them enough to know what happy looks like on a Truinnar and they aren�t.

�Adventurer Lee. Lord Roxley wishes a word with you. Immediately,� the first guard speaks even before I come to a stop as the gate rolls aside. My eyes narrow but I follow, waving the others off as they start to enter as well. This should be interesting.

�Adventurer Lee,� Roxley speaks as soon as I arrive. My eyes sweep to the right, clocking Capstan and another Yerick and then I turn back to Roxley, my heart speeding up slightly but not for good reasons. Something�s up, and I definitely don�t like it.

�Lord Roxley, First Fist Capstan;� I greet the two that I know and look towards the third but get no reply. Okay�

�We have a few questions for you Adventurer. A few days ago, we spoke about the Yerick�s plans. I understand you spoke with the First Fist soon after to confirm this information,� Roxley says, his voice cool and authoritative.

�Sort of, I spoke with you certainly. And then I spoke with the First Fist about potential problems,� I answer, eyes narrowing and Ali floating next to me is silent.

�Tell me, why did you do so,� Roxley continues in that same tone and I look over to Capstan, noting he hasn�t moved at all.

�I was trying to make sure nothing bad happened. I�m getting a feeling something did.�

�Really, and you spoke with no one about their plans for buying property in the city?� Roxley says.

�I might have told my team,� I reply and then pause, remembering something. �And Fred. And Minion� ummm� Eric.�

�Did you plan for that information to be used against the Yerick?� says Roxley speaks and I note the other Yerick is watching me really closely.

�No, and I�m done now. I�ve answered that question a dozen different ways and now I�d like to know what the hell is going on,� I reply, glaring at them.

In answer, the other Yerick turns and speaks to Capstan.

�He�s saying you�re telling the truth,� Ali says to me in my mind and I shoot him a look. �New ability, I�ve got access to the common languages and dialects in the System now.�

I nod and keep my face bland, watching the three as they exchange looks before Capstan gives Roxley a small nod. Once he does, Roxley says, "The buildings, all the buildings the Yerick purchased were burnt down early this morning. As you were the only one we spoke to about their plans, we are forced to presume the leak came from you. And the results, whether intentional or not, are from your actions.�

I blink and then look at them, a hand coming up. �Look, I didn�t��

�It does not matter what you intended Adventurer Lee. Your actions are what are judged here, and your actions brought about great lost to the Yerick. And myself. That you did not intend the results is perhaps just as bad,� Roxley shakes his head and waves his hand, dismissing me.

I stare at him and then at Capstan who has not said a word to me this entire time. I can feel the rage building in me, at being so casually dismissed, for the way they are acting. I can feel the anger at being treated like this for just trying to help, but I keep control because they are right. I fucked up. I thought I knew what I was doing but I didn�t.

Stupid, stupid, stupid John. Never really good at anything important.

I walk out of the building, not even bothering to go to the Shop. I swing Sabre to Fourth Street and it takes barely five minutes to get to the burnt-out husks of the buildings that take up the entire street the Yerick purchased. I look at the burnt ashes still smoldering slightly and I wonder how they managed to keep it contained, managed to stop it from spreading throughout the city.

�Nice, isn�t it?� a voice comes from behind me and I turn around, seeing Minion lounging against a lamp post.

�What?� I reply.

�Looks like someone decided the minotaurs shouldn�t get what we humans built for free,� replies Minion, smirking.

I find myself snarling, crossing the distance in a blink. I don�t think he was expecting me to move so fast, but then again, he hasn�t ever seen one of us let loose either. I want to grab him, but I stop myself, getting right in his face while I snarl, �You! You did this didn�t you!�

�Me, what would I do?� Minion smirks, not backing down. �I wouldn�t dare do anything like this. I�m just a minion.�

I growl at him but force the anger back, hands trembling slightly with contained rage. I make myself step away, and Minion�s smirk grows wider.

�You look so unhappy. Did your elf-lover tell you off? Did your pet monsters not like you anymore?� he taunts, waving his hand out to the fires. �Perhaps they are beginning to understand that the real humans don�t want them here.�

�John,� Ali begins but I tune the asshole out.

�Shut up Minion. Now,� my eyes narrow and my fists clench as I work to keep my anger contained.

�I guess it�s no surprise human women like Luthien turn you down, what with you being a - urk!� One second I�m a step away from him, my hands by my side and the next I have him by the throat and he�s smashed against the wall of the building behind him, crushed against it. A small part of me holds back, just enough so that he doesn�t die immediately, �Shut Up. All I want to know is who did this.�

�Fuck you monster lover,� Minion grates out beneath my hand and I start closing my grip, choking him out. I watch his face turn purple, rage tinting my vision while I smile. I watch as he claws at my armored hand, kicks at me feebly and I smile. I watch as his struggles weaken as he begins to die and I smile.

The blow that catches my outstretched arm catches me by surprise. I stagger back, hand opening by reflex to release and then Mikito is in front of me, naginata between us. She is crouched low, watching me like she watches the monsters.

�John!� Richard shouts, and I realise he�s been shouting at me for minutes now. He�s panting, the Huskies spread out before him in a defensive formation, all of them baring their fangs at me. Behind, Rachel has her hands raised, ready to cast a spell.

�What?� I grate out, anger still threatening to spill out as I massage my arm.

�You were killing him!� Richard says, his voice shaky.

I look at the slumped over, vomiting Minion and the anger flares again. I take a half-step unconsciously towards the body and Mikito shifts to block me, leveling the naginata at me.

�John, you need to calm down. You can�t do this,� Richard says, his voice low and soothing, trying to calm me down.

Mental Influence Resisted

Son-of-a-bitch is trying to charm me, to calm me. Fuck that. I almost take a step to him, I actually do, before I can stop myself. The Huskies are all growling at me and Rachel looks pale and so scared she�s about to throw up. I can feel the anger in me, a hair�s breadth from being unleashed and I look between them all, all my friends staring at me as if I�m the monster. I snarl, grabbing hold of what is left of my self-control and go to Sabre in silence. I need to kill something, and there�s nothing in town that I can kill. Or should kill at least.

2am in the morning and even now, I can see the glimmers of light on the horizon. Faint now, though I know in a few weeks more it will be as bright as day even at this time. The guards do not stop me as I drive into town, though they watch me with care. I understand their hesitation, it�s why I am making the trip now.

Three days now, I�ve done this, coming in late at night to sell my earnings to the Shop and then visit the nocturnal Xev. There, it provides me with the quick fixes that I need for Sabre and takes a look at the remains that I bring, helping to make arrangements for the pieces that it does not want.

Three days while I live in the fort by myself, hunting and killing, letting the anger cool. I�m tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I know it�s better for me not to be in town. Not to be around directly, at least for a bit. A lot of things have changed but trying to kill a man for calling you names isn�t exactly civilized behavior. I was just so angry at him, at Roxley and Capstan, at the idiots who set the fire.

I draw a deep breath and exhale, forcing myself to focus. Xev�s first - no reason to go to the Shop, my inventory is now large enough to store a few days worth of loot. Unfortunately, my Altered Space storage isn�t that large and thus the nightly visits.

The doors to Xev�s parking lot are open and I swing in, the doors swinging shut behind me. I step out, looking around me as Ali floats beside me, staring intensely at a screen only he can see. If I had to guess, it�s probably more reality TV. I don�t understand his addiction, but it keeps him occupied which is all that I need.

�Xev,� I greet the mechanic, turning to where it lurks in the shadows above me. An angry chitter lets me know it dislikes being found out, again. I then turn to the other visitors, raising an eyebrow slightly, my voice cooling a touch. �Amelia. Lieutenant Vir.�

�John,� the ex-Constable smiles at me, running a hand through her short-cut blonde hair in absent thought. Amelia has filled out further, wide in the shoulders and stocky. She moves with a lithe grace that belies her bulk and with her new bulk are new levels. �I see you know Lieutenant Vir.�

�By sight,� I acknowledge, having spotted the Lieutenant in Roxley�s presence a number of times.

�I�d like to talk to you about the Yerick and the buildings,� Amelia continues to smile at me, though she has crossed to stand closer to me. Only a small hand-span away from reaching out to touch me in fact. Instincts honed in combat tell me hers and Vir�s positioning to my left are not by accident. They�re treating me like a potential threat. �Lord Roxley has requested I aid in the investigation due to my previous career.�

I nod slightly, flicking a glance at Vir and then back to her, keeping my voice level. A little resentment flickers, burns away at my control but I keep it tamped down. �Ask away, I have nothing to hide. If Xev doesn�t mind.�

Xev scurries down and prods me to get off Sabre, rolling the mecha into its shop while I turn to the two. What follows is a pleasant interrogation, one filled with all kinds of cordiality but it�s an interrogation nonetheless. She is good though, honing in on any hesitation or dissembling on my part to clarify things, pulling out details about my meetings with Roxley, Capstan, Fred and Minion and my conversations with my party with consummate ease. She even asks about my last confrontation with Minion. She takes notes constantly on a little paper notepad, Vir standing behind her and silently observing our interactions.

�Well, that should be it. Thank you, John. I hesitate to ask, but you will be around will you not?� Andrea says and I shrug.

�For now. The hunting is good and Xev�s the only mechanic who can fix Sabre for a few hundred miles,� I reply.

�And you�re staying at�?� she continues, jotting my affirmation.

�The fort. Carcross crossing,� I answer and she smiles again, closing the notebook with a snap.

�Problems with the party?� she tilts her head, quirking her lips and inviting me to spill.

�The interview isn�t over boy-o,� Ali sends to me even as he continues to stare at his screen, acting as if he�s ignoring us entirely and probably not fooling anyone.

�I�m enjoying the peace. It�s been interesting hunting alone again,� I reply, smiling back at her though the smile is strained. All politeness, no warmth. I�ve not talked to my party, not discussed what happened. I think they need time and I surely do. Time to resolve how I felt, or didn�t feel, about nearly killing Minion. That was perhaps the worst part � that I still couldn�t bring myself to regret what I did. What difference was there in killing a human or monster? I�ve killed sentient creatures before, I�ve killed non-sentient creatures, they are all just grist for the mill of blood and experience. Yet, I should feel bad about it, shouldn�t I? Bad about killing someone for just calling me names. Which really is what it amounts to right now - I don�t have real proof that he was the perpetrator. At least I know I feel somewhat ashamed at almost attacking the party.

Amelia is staring at me as I think before jerking her head to Vir and the two turn to leave together. �Well, we�ll find you if we have any more questions.�

�Of course,� I reply and watch her go. A good woman, trying to do an impossible job. I�m glad Roxley pulled her in, it�ll make finding the parties responsible a little easier. Though I guess they could just ask the System � everything is for sale in the Shop after all. Maybe they even have and all this is just a show, a way of appeasing the humans that a proper investigation is being done.

Either way, that�s not my problem. Not anymore. I watch them leave and when they are gone, only then do I turn to the last set of shadows and call out, �You can come out now.�

Sally chuckles, walking out from where she has been hiding. �Damn, how�d you find me?�

�I have my ways,� I smirk. Truthfully, it was Ali. As he grows in strength, even lower level Stealth methods are falling to his scans. �What�s this about?�

�Xev tells me you�ve been bringing it the bodies of your kills. I thought I might come and look for myself. It knows a bit about alchemy, but really,� she shrugs and I nod, walking to the waiting platform. I pull the bodies out, depositing them on the platform in quick order and arranging them for the Alchemist. Sally pulls a knife from her inventory, prodding and pulling at the new bodies and dissecting them with quick, precise motions. She pulls and sets aside various organs and body parts as she goes, muttering to herself as she works.

�How are things? With the humans?� I ask curiously, normally our interactions are brief and to the point at her store.

She pulls her head out from the gullet of a particularly big, scaled kill to call out, �Tense. Very tense. Someone tried to firebomb Xev�s place this morning, but the shop�s upgraded so they failed. No one�s bothered me but I�m next to the Centre so it�d take someone really dumb to try something. Now, if you don�t mind��

I leave her to it and find a seat, propping my feet up and waiting, pulling a chocolate bar from my inventory while I wait. An hour later, she emerges covered in blood and guts and flicks a hand to send me an itemised list of what she wants to buy and for how much. I eye it for a second and then send Ali to dicker with her. As if I�d know the price of a pair of Lizard balls. As I watch them, my eyes drift shut and I let them. I�ll just rest my eyes for a moment.

When I open them again, Sabre is right beside me, nice and shiny and the gate doors are open, trucks driving in to pick up the meat. Jim is there, nodding to me as I slowly stand up and stretch.

�Jim,� I greet him and he grunts, looking me up and down before he walks over, only the slight pause at the beginning betraying his hesitation.

�John,� he offers his hand and I take it.

�How are you doing?� I ask him, looking the man over. He�s raised a few levels since we last spoke and he looks fitter, though his shoulders are curved in more and he looks even more tired than before.

�Good,� he replies and I raise an eyebrow. He looks me over and shrugs, �I�m good. Haven�t lost anyone in three days now.�

I nod slowly, �Yeah, the monsters are stabilising a bit though the changes continue.�

He grunts, spitting to the side as I mention that, �Changes. Lots of those. Can�t recognise some of the trails anymore, can�t even recognise some of the land. About two kilometers from here, we found a new lake.�

When he mentions that I can hear the sadness in his voice. I look at him then and he smiles at me wryly, shaking his head. No use complaining, I guess, but I can see how the land changing can be hard for the First Nations. How do you deal with the land you grew up on, that your ancestors grew up on, changing under your very feet, transforming into something you can�t recognize. How do you deal with the fact that there�s nothing you can do about it? Then again, perhaps I�m being too patronising � it�s not as if the dams, the National Parks or the lack of land claims haven�t done the same.

Truthfully, I have no answer to his concerns. In the end, we just stand and watch the rest of his team load up the last of the bodies to be sent for processing. He looks at me once more, opens his mouth to say something then closes it before walking away. I guess neither one of us has anything useful to say to one another.

�John,� Richard is seated on the porch of the fort as I pull up, petting Shadow as the other puppies� gambol around the yard.

�Richard,� I look around, not seeing any of the others.

�I�m alone,� he spots my actions and waves me over to a seat. I groan as I put the kickstand down, getting off the mecha. Stupid brain � still thinking I should hurt when my health is all fixed up already.

�What�s this about?� I enquire as I walk over, slinging the rifle I took from Sabre over my shoulder.

�Minion. The council, well, they wanted me to talk to you,� Richard shifts uncomfortably and I nod slightly. No surprise � nearly killing someone was bound to have some ramifications. �This isn�t, well, this is what they agreed on. In the majority.�

I almost want to ask how he voted but I push it aside. That kind of answer could end a friendship and we�re on shaky ground as it is, �Go on. Promise not to kill the messenger.�

Richard glares at me, obviously not finding the joke funny. �They aren�t going to press charges,� I snort at that though Richard continues without stopping, �but you�re no longer welcome as a member of the council. They also, well, they�d also like you to leave but��

�But they don�t have the right or ability to enforce it. And Roxley probably doesn�t give a damn,� I finish for him. Sure, we had a jail, but considering most of those held there weren�t particularly dangerous before the System change, the ones who survived the initial massacre had been returned to the populace. We didn�t have the resources to staff it and frankly, I�m not going to jail peacefully if they tried that shit.

�The matter hasn�t been brought to Roxley�s attention, at least as far as we know. He hasn�t said anything to us at least,� Richard replies and I nod. As I said, he probably doesn�t give a damn.

�And you guys?�

�The group, we�re divided. We know why you did it, but John�� Richard looks up from stroking Shadow, speaking firmly. �You scared us. That anger, that rage, we�ve seen it before out there. We thought you had it under control but you tried to kill a man. And I could swear you were about to kill us.�

I smile grimly and I then tell him the truth, �I almost did.�

Richard�s hand that has been stroking Shadow stops for a moment at my revelation before he continues to pet her. I can�t help but notice that the other pets have all focused on me, surrounding me without a sound. �So, you don�t trust me anymore.�

�We don�t, we trust you. We just, don�t trust your� anger.� Richard struggles and I laugh, shaking my head and wave him away. �We��

�Forget it man, I get it. Don�t worry about it,� I cut him off, pointing to his truck and dismissing him with a flick of my hand. �Better this way anyway.�

�John�� Richard opens his mouth and I wave him away again, suddenly tired. Fuck this and fuck emotions.

�You guys take care alright?� I get up and walk into the fort, shutting the door behind me and walking to the bathroom. I need food then some sleep. Then it�ll be time to kill things again. It�s for the best really. This way, I need only focus on one thing � getting stronger.

Chapter 24

I step out of my shower, reveling in the feeling of being clean for the first time in a few days. I stretch, shifting my weight forward before walking into my room to look for something to wear. That�s when I remember that nothing I own fits me now.

�John?� Lana comes around the corner, red hair leading the way as she leans around the doorway and smiles when she sees it�s actually me. As always, it�s like someone turned on the sun, colors brightening when she comes in and smiles.

�Lana,� I nod to her and reach out to my inventory, pulling it open to grab the clothing I bought from the Shop. I really have to remember to buy some casual clothing soon � under-armour while comfortable isn�t exactly relaxing.

�Sorry, I didn�t mean to disturb you,� she looks me over again before she turns away. �I�ll be upstairs.�

I sigh, really not wanting to have that conversation. It�s why I chose to come mid-day to the house when I figured the group would be out doing their thing. Still, now that I�m here, I won�t run. I get dressed then come upstairs to find Lana nursing a cup of coffee and another waiting for me.

�Thanks,� I say as I sip on it.

�How are you doing John? We�ve been worried about you,� Lana states, peering at me as if she could read my mind if she tried hard enough.

�I�m fine,� I answer her automatically.

�Really?�

�Yeah, I am,� I begin to get irritated, wondering why she�s pushing the matter.

�John, it�s okay to be angry. It�s okay to be upset you know.�

�I�m fine,� I say again, stressing the words.

�So, Richard tells me you�re staying at the crossing?� Lana asks, looking me over again with those blue eyes.

�Yeah, I am,� I say. �Pass the word on to Richard, will you? Let the Council know, I�m not accepting visitors anymore. Not without an appointment and payment.�

She frowns, puzzling through my meaning before she gets it. No more free experience taking the fort away from me and then giving it back, �Why?�

�It�s my home now. I don�t want strangers tramping through it unannounced,� I explain.

�You intend to say there then?�

�Yes. It�s a lot closer to level appropriate hunting grounds,� I sip my coffee, looking at her over the rim.

�You know, you�re not the first,� Lana states, swirling the cup before her.

�Mmmm?�

�You�re a classic case. Full of anger and resentment with the world, unable to process what has happened so you�ve just turned it into anger and more anger. Now, when it starts getting too much, you pull away from everyone who cares about you,� she shakes her head, red hair swishing around her face and smiles sadly. �You�re not the first, even if you have been more constructive than most others.�

I swallow the last of the coffee, the heat burning its way down my throat as I stand up. �I�m fine Lana. Drop it.�

�No. No, you�re not. You tried to kill a man because you were angry and now, rather than deal with your loss of control, you�re running,� Lana moves to touch me and I shrink away, dropping the cup on the table. Lana stops moving immediately, staring at me.

�I didn�t intend to kill him. If I wanted him dead, he would be.� I spit out, my voice trembling. �I just wanted, I wanted�� him to stop. To shut up. To go away. I wanted it to burn in the thousand hells for all it did. I just wanted it to stop. I can feel the fragile set of controls I�ve managed to put in place begin to creak, begin to give way.

�You don�t even know do you?� Lana whispers softly, pity in her eyes now.

I walk out then. I don�t have an answer for her, I don�t think I have an answer for myself and if I stay here any longer, I think I might just hurt her to make her stop looking at me like that.

�John��Ali starts and I hold a finger up to the Spirit.

�Not a word, not a word or else I�ll dump your ass back in the Spirit world and leave it there,� I snarl, getting on Sabre and heading out. I need to kill something. I barely slowdown at the guard post, gunning through as I head South.

�Find me something to kill. A lot of somethings,� I grate out, eyes burning as I push the bike.

�Right, ummm�� Ali floats beside me, flicking his hand around and then suddenly a small map shows up in front of me, just translucent enough for me to see through. I see the blinking dot that is me and a whole series of others.

Blood. Violence. Death.

It�s so simple when I�m fighting, when I�m in the midst of kicking ass. I feel the mutated wolf bite into my shoulder, teeth tearing into the flesh beneath and I grab hold of it with my other hand, ripping it free. The wolf snarls and I throw it into a tree, calling forth my blade and channeling mana to send a wave of force outwards. The blow cuts it into half and I glance at the small puncture holes in my shirt, watch as the wounds begin to close.

�More,� I whisper, walking further in. Behind me, Sabre sits unused. �More Ali. Find me something tougher. Something harder.�

�No John. Put Sabre on and we�ll talk, but this is stupid,� Ali floats in front of me, arms crossed. �This isn�t even training anymore, this is suicide.�

�I ordered you to do it,� I snarl, raising my hand.

�No.�

I flick my hand outwards, calling forth the Companion screen and then dismiss the still defiant spirit. Fine then. I�ll find them myself. I drop points into Two are One, The Body�s Resolve and finally Greater Detection, ignoring the notifications about the skills. I watch as a small minimap flares into life in the top right, small coloured dots indicating monsters. I concentrate and the grey, green and blue ones disappear, leaving it blank. Frustrated, I focus and the blue ones reappear and then I start jogging as clouds gather overhead and the first signs of rain start appearing.

Fine. If there aren�t any greater threats around, I�ll just kill my way to one.

Blood

I slide my sword in the lizard�s neck, ripping outwards and blood flies. I feel another bite into my leg, but the feeling is remote, the pain a shadow of what it should be. I kill it with a flick of my hand, sword appearing and disappearing, a head torn off.

Pain.

The stone bear lands a paw on my shoulder, throwing me into the air and gouging out a chunk of flesh. The creature is chipped and shattered, stone flesh carved from its limbs and chest smashed in by pommel strikes. I roll and come up on my feet, free hand rising as mana darts smash into the body, tearing chunks of stone from its chest. The bear staggers, the last dart finding its heart and it falls, dead. I watch it crumble, just another wet boulder in the rain.

Death

The horn pierces my stomach, the creature lifting and throwing me with the same motion. I finish my attack as it does so, sliding my blade into the back of its skull as I land, driving all the breath from my body. I struggle to pull forth a stamina potion, to cast a healing spell but that cold, empty place that I�ve existed in finally crumbles.

Blood. Pain. Death.

Blood rushes from my open wounds mixing with the rain, countless hours of running from one battle to another, pushing pain aside and laying death around me. Blood runs and pain overwhelms me and death comes but at least the anger is gone, the emotions gone. Just a nice, floating emptiness with old voices from the past.

�Is that it? Is that all you can say? How can you be so cold?� Luthien, the last night before I leave when I tell her to get out, when I tell her we�re over.

Cold. Yes, that�s me. My body is shivering, cold from the blood loss as I stare up into the sky, watching the lights shift. There�s nothing more for me to do, nothing I can do.

�We�re all failures,� Mikito now.

Yes, but I failed a long time ago. I�ve never been good enough, smart enough, tough enough. Always the loser, always the outsider.

�81%! So stupid! How are you going to be a doctor with such marks! Get me the cane. Maybe you�ll learn this time.�another voice, my father�s this time.

I learnt. I learn that it�s never enough, nothing is ever enough. You just keep going, just keep trying, just keep running and you don�t look back, not ever.

�You tried to kill a man because you were angryand now, rather than deal with your loss of control, you�re running,�Lana. Beautiful Lana who told me I�m not good enough for her. She�s right though, I never was good enough for anybody.

It doesn�t matter, doesn�t matter at all. The pain has receded and I can�t feel my body much anymore, can�t feel the rain hitting my face. I�ve run as far as I can, done all I can. I feel my eyes drift close and I smile. Maybe I can rest now.

Chapter 25

I wake up and pain comes with it, pain from my numerous wounds. I gasp, drawing a deep shuddering breath as pain eats at me, enveloping my mind. I can�t think, not really and so I pull a potion out, drinking it down and feeling it take effect, mana coursing through my body and stitching wounds close, replacing lost blood. I should be dead, I was bleeding out and I should be dead.

Memories of blood-soaked hours, of killing and killing and killing in an attempt to run away from my memories, my feelings, my failures come back to me. Sadness catches me, grips me and I curl up, wondering why I can�t even do this properly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I feel tears leaking out and I rub at them, refusing to cry. I don�t cry. I never cry. You don�t ever let them see you cry, not ever. Like everything else in my life, I fail. I sit there, amidst a clearing filled with the dead and I cry. For my father that I�ll never meet and tell off again to his face, for the millions that have died, for a world destroyed. For myself and all the times I�ve never been good enough.

The sun begins to set by the time I wake up again, the dead congealing and rotting around me. My wounds are closed and I�m healed - in body if not mind. I roll a bit and a soft gasp makes me look up and I realise that I�m not alone.

�John,� Lana bends down, offering me her hand and I blink, staring at her.

�How are you here? Why?�

�Ali contacted me before you dismissed him, before you got out of range. Told me you were out of control. I couldn�t find anyone else so�� she waves her around and I see she�s brought her pets with her, all of them.

I look around and shiver, realizing how far I�ve come. Hours of running and fighting has taken me far away from Whitehorse into zones that I have no right to be in nor should she. �You shouldn�t have come.�

�You shouldn�t have run,� Lana points out and I feel that coil of anger rise up again. I try to fight it but I don�t have to. It gutters and dies, my body, my soul too tired right now.

�This, I...� I try to find the words and fail.

�It�s okay, you don�t have to say anything. Not right now,� she waves to her animals and they come up to her. �We should leave anyway, it�s getting late.�

I nod slowly and then turn to survey the small clearing I�m in. I walk along the bodies of the monsters I�ve killed, spotting the monstrous horned Alpha that I fought and loot it before dropping the body into storage.

My hand hovers for a moment before I sigh, waving and recalling the little monster. Ali reappears, foot tapping and arms crossed in front of me, glaring. Before he can speak, I raise a finger, �Not a word Ali. You�ve done stupid shit too.�

��

�Right, we should head back. Plot me the best way back will you,� I instruct Ali and then flick a glance to my side.

�Can do. We picking up the Loot on the way?� I give a nod, no reason to waste it after all. �Though you might want to head this way,� a blue arrow appears �first. There�s a stream there, might help to wash your face. Baby.�

Strangely enough, it�s comforting the teasing. No anger, though I do send him a warning glare that reminds him not to push it. I change directions, following his arrow as Lana falls in behind us and exchange greetings with Ali, her pets staying close by. I sigh, pulling up my notifications while we move. With Ali back, I know I don�t have to wade through the idiotic mess so I pull up the good ones.

Class Skill Acquired

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

Class Skill Acquired

The Body�s Resolve (Level 1)

Effect: Increase natural health regeneration by 10%. On-going health status effects reduced by 20%. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

�Well, that explains that�� Luck. Pure luck that I had to choose Body�s Resolve to acquire Greater Detection. It was the only reason that I can think of that I had survived the giant hole in my stomach, the bleeding stopping before I died out while my body regenerated the damage. Pure frigging luck.

Finding the stream, I wash my face and arms, cleaning off the blood that I can get at before finally giving up. I�m going to have to replace the entire damn skinsuit armor, it�s so torn up I might as well be naked. When I stand I notice Lana isn�t watching the woods but me and I give her a tired grin. She smiles again before looking aside.

Cleaned up, I get back on track and head for the nearest body while flicking through my other notifications.

Class Skill Acquired

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to 1 kilometre away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills and ambient mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

�Ali, did I just reduce my total mana regeneration by 20 points?� I grimace, doing the maths quickly. Mana regeneration is based off my Willpower, so I�d just reduced my entire regeneration rate by a third. Put another way, it�d take nearly half again as long to fill my mana tank, nearly fifteen minutes. In a fight, that�s forever. I guess I know where some of my saved points are going when I get my next level up.

�Impressive,� Lana murmurs as we come to the next body and I nod slowly. How the hell did I get that body up there? And that body is in two parts � it looks like I tore the poor thing into two with my bare hands. Well, marvelling at the death and chaos isn�t getting me anywhere. I get back to looting, jumping up first and then going for the torn apart bodies.

Class Skill Learnt � Frenzy

Due to repeated actions, you have learnt a class skill outside of your class.

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

�Okay, now that�s just trolling me,� I mutter staring at the next blurb as I walk through the forest towards my next kill site. Still, a skill is a skill and at least this one didn�t have an on-going cost. One last notification then.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 17 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 8 Free Attribute Points and 1 Class Skill Point to distribute.

Right, dumping 5 into Willpower immediately then. I guess going on a rampage was good for one thing. I smile grimly to myself, coming up to the next corpse. Ah shit.

�I�m out of space,� I point out as I stare at the corpse of the bear.

�Let me take a look,� Ali disappears for a second and then suddenly bodies start getting dumped out from my Altered Space through a floating doorway, the grunting Spirit appearing behind the last dumped body. �Right, those are crap. Grab the bear.�

�That�s so weird,� mutters Lana as she watches the bodies just appear out of thin air.

Having the Spirit pays for itself once more since I still don�t have a clear grasp of what everything is worth. Too damn much to learn and not enough time. As I think about it, I can feel the tightening in my chest, the sudden pressure as I think of all the things I need, I want to do.

I stop, closing my eyes and force myself to breathe. Just a few seconds, just a few moments to still my mind. One step at a time. That�s all I can do. That�s all I�ve ever been able to do. Don�t worry about the future or the past, just focus on the present.

I feel a hand close on mine, gripping it tight and squeezing and I open my eyes to meet Lana�s. She smiles at me and I nod slowly, forcing a breath out. Right then. One step at a time and the first step is to get the rest of these bodies and back to Sabre. At a nod from Lana, I start jogging.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

I exhale, seated in the middle of the fort, meditating. It�s noon already, the sun shining down on me as I sit in my bedroom. I slept like the dead when I got back, and I�m dirty, smelly and bloody but for a moment, I feel more like myself. Lana tried to get me to go back to the house but I refused. There�s a talk there that needs to be finished, but I need this time alone.

In the calm that meditating gives me, I slowly prod at my feelings, slowly test them out. Rage of course, always that. So much anger � at my father, at the bullies from childhood, at Luthien, the System, the monsters, myself, the list goes on and on. It�s cooler now, but it�s still there, just this churning sea of anger that colours all my emotions. Not repressed or compartmentalized like I thought, more like dammed with all the boxes of my other emotions floating in it. Except the dam is broken and leaking.

Next emotion - grief. For a mother that I never knew, a sister that I loved, a world that was. It�s a gut punch that refuses to stop hurting, to go away, always gnawing at my control. Resentment, at Ali for using me, at the Council for never saying thank you, at the citizens for just lying back and letting the world roll over them. Pressure, to do something, to save people, to prove that I�m not a failure to myself or to my father. Fear of a System that wants to kill me, that I�m not doing enough, that the next fight is my last. Frustration that I didn�t choose right, that there�s not enough time, not enough money. So many emotions, so few of them good.

I sit there and open the boxes that I�ve shoved away, finding time to let myself feel, let myself watch and note before letting them get boxed away again, a little lessened perhaps. It�s a waste of a day, sitting here and feeling them, thinking about them, but I don�t have a choice. I guess that�s resentment again, for the wasted time doing this, for taking a moment to take care of myself. Anger for thinking that I�m not worth it�

I draw a deep breath, exhale and repeat, forcing myself to find that dispassionate peace again as I get derailed. Not the first time it has happened, probably not the last time it�ll happen. I�ve put this off too long, pushing myself because there wasn�t anyone else, but that�s not true either is it. Pushing myself because that�s what I do.

Not right now though, no more judging, no more worrying � just do what needs to be done. I�ll deal with the world later. Right now, this is about me and finally, finally coming to terms. What is, is. And that includes me.

###

The End

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Not only is it a big ego boost, it also helps sales and convinces me to write more in the series!

If you enjoyed this book, please check out my other LitRPG series (available on Amazon, Smashwords, iBooks and more!) -

- A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Tales of Brad)

About the Author

Tao Wong is an avid fantasy and scifi reader who spends his time working and writing in the North of Canada. He�s spent way too many years doing martial arts of many forms and having broken himself too often, now spends his time writing about fantasy worlds.

For updates on books, please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

Redeemer of the Dead

Tao Wong

System Apocalypse #2

Redeemer of the Dead

A LitRPG Apocalypse

Book 2 of The System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

License Notes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author�s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you�re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Redeemer of the Dead

ISBN: 9781775058700

Chapter 1

�This is a bad idea.� Ali, my two-foot-tall Spirit Companion floats next to me, staring at the cave entrance cut into the river canyon�s side.

I crouch, glacial water flowing past my armored legs, summer sun highlighting the emerald greens and clear blues of the river. �Of course. What exactly in the last four months has been a good idea? Taunting a Salamander? Hunting a Drake? Clearing a monster lair? Ever since the damn System came into place, it�s all been one bad idea after the next. It�s just a question of how bad we want to make it.�

I check the readings from Sabre, my Personal Assault Vehicle (PAV). Normal humans would just call it powered armor, or maybe a mecha. After all, a half-hour ago it was a bike. I got it nearly at the start when the System, the over-arching mechanism put into place by the Galactic Council, came into being. According to them, since �Mana� had finally reached significant levels on Earth, the System could now be put in place. Along with the System and Mana saturation came the destruction of all our electronics and the mutation of Earth�s ecosystem and spawning of monsters from lore. Cue the Apocalypse as civilization fell.

In the end, what Ali and I are arguing about is the blue floating System window dominating my vision.

Dungeon Located!

Warning! The current dungeon has not been categorized at this time due to System limitations. All XP rewards are doubled. Successful completion of the dungeon by a System-registered individual will generate increased rewards.

�You said it. These kinds of rewards can be quite good.� I stare into the darkness and heft my armored right arm, where I recently integrated a projectile weapon. While I love my beam rifle, good old solid projectile weaponry has certain advantages, including the option of using multiple ammo types to suit the situation.

�Still a bad idea, boy-o. Could be a bunch of really high-level monsters in there,� Ali says as he spins around in agitation.

�Yeah, yeah. Then we run. We still have a full charge on the QSM.�

The Quantum State Manipulator, or QSM, is one of the first toys I acquired when the System kicked into play four months ago, bringing an apocalypse to Earth and shutting down all our higher-end electronics. When activated, the QSM phases me into another dimension, which makes it incredibly useful for running away. It has drawbacks, including a long recharge time and a short use period, as well as allowing high energy states�read explosions�to pass through, but it�s saved my life more times than I care to count.

�Fine, fine. Light her up,� Ali mutters and I grin, pointing the barrel down the cave entrance.

I cycle the ammunition in the barrel then open fire, embedding three glowing light sources into the cave walls. I learned my lesson about going into a dark cave a month ago. Even if Sabre and my helmet give me enhanced low-light vision, it�s still a better idea to light things up.

The cave entrance shows me nothing new, but better to be cautious. I launch one of my drones to check things out, sending it to the ceiling to scan for potential threats, before I send it deeper and lock it in place a couple dozen meters ahead of me. Once that�s done, I walk in while shrinking the feed enough that I can watch it and my surroundings at the same time. I keep an eye on the mini-map that my Spirit and my Skill Greater Detection updates even as I do my best to stay hidden. I�m a pretty good sneak, if I do say so myself, though announcing myself with a bunch of lights probably takes away from the surprise factor. Can�t win it all.

The first cave I find has nothing more dangerous than some mutated fungus. Fungi. Whatever. It shoots out spores that are probably poisonous, but I�m in a fully sealed armored suit with an independent oxygen supply so John 1, Dungeon 0. Sweat runs down my back as I walk farther in�cold sweat that even the environmental controls in Sabre can�t fix. Fear courses through me, but along with it comes excitement.

Yeah, I�m screwed up in the head. I was before this started, and now I�m probably even more twisted. I actually like this�risking my life, dancing along the knife�s edge of danger. It wakes me up, thrills me in a way that nothing else ever has, and I�ll admit I take risks no one else would. That moment when everything tilts, when I could live or die, is when I finally feel truly alive. No more walls, no more compartmentalized and contained emotions, just moments of perfect control amidst the chaos.

Crazy. Told you.

�Picking up two. Nope. Three,� Ali mutters.

A moment later, I feel them myself. Damn, even now he�s better than I am. Then again, if the Spirit wasn�t, I�d feel as though I wasn�t getting my money�s worth. Not that I pay him�not exactly, at least. He�s a Perk I gained for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the System pays for his upkeep. If it didn�t, I�d have slowed my Mana regeneration down even further and I�ve got enough Skills that do that already.

I send a slew of new commands to the drone, launching it toward a higher point in the ceiling to check out the new threats while I lay down more light orbs. I wonder what I�ll find this time?

The answer is ugly, ugly monsters. Quadrupedal creatures with faces like a mutated rat�s, spiked bodies, and whip-like tails that drip with acid. The creatures are dark green with blotches of black across their bodies, providing them an effective camouflage in the darkness of the cave.

Kongorad (Level 28)

HP: 480/480

Status Effects: None

I watch them for a few minutes in my feed, the creatures not noticing the drone. They don�t do much beyond strolling around in curious circles in the cave ahead of me, occasionally bumping into each other and play fighting. After I�ve watched them long enough, I sneak in and launch a single light orb into the cave.

As they startle, twisting to stare at the orb, I take the opportunity to put a few rounds into them. I�ve staggered the rounds in the loading chamber, so I shoot high explosive, armor piercing, and normal in order. I then put a single round into each of my opponents. The high explosive projectile blows up the spine of the targeted Kongorad, the armor piercing drills all the way through, and my normal round smashes into but doesn�t pierce the monster I targeted. Armor piercing it is.

Even as I make the adjustments to my ammo lineup, the surviving Kongorads are returning fire with their barbed spines. I duck behind a nearby outcropping, but the launched spines move so fast and cover such a wide area, I get caught by a few. They drill through the nearby walls, the outcropping, and my armor with ease, carrying their Mana-imbued barbed poison into my body. I grunt at the notification that lets me know I�ve been poisoned. There is no pain though, just a comforting numbness that slowly spreads.

A light chime lets me know the gun is ready, and I twist around the corner of the outcropping to open fire, concentrating on slamming three bullets into one monster. Each bullet smashes through its body, splattering blood around it before I duck back behind the measly cover provided by the rock. Thankfully, after drilling through all the rock, the spines can�t completely penetrate my armor.

�Can�t touch this,� Ali chants and literally dances as he floats in front of the Kongorad attempting to kill him. He might be visible, but he�s not corporeal, which means he�s a very good distraction.

Grinning in my helmet, I charge the distracted Kongorad and slice down with the sword I conjure into my hand. My personal weapon might not look like much, but with my Advanced Class skills, I cut through the monster�s head with ease, killing it.

Level 28 monsters are a cakewalk for me. While my own Level might be a measly 23, because I have an Advanced Class, my �true� level is about double that. About, since as Ali points out, the math gets fuzzy. Jumping directly to an Advanced Class without a Basic Class has given me a bunch of side benefits, including a higher resistance to most effects�like poison.

Monsters dead, I scan for any further surprises before slowly sinking down. My body shudders slightly as it fights off the poison, heat washing over the numbness. I lick my lips, tasting the salt from my sweat while I wait for the effects to go away. It doesn�t take long at all, then I�m standing, walking over to the bodies, and putting the System-generated loot into my inventory before dropping the bodies into my Altered Space. The Altered Space Skill creates a dimensional pocket I can store objects in, a nifty little Class Skill that lets me store more loot and corpses than most parties can as a whole.

Right, that wasn�t so bad. If that�s all I�m facing, this should be simple.

�Ali, this cave seems huge,� I mutter, kicking the latest victim off my blade. I�ve been down here for a good hour, walking through caves and killing Kongorads, and there is no way this canyon holds such an extensive cave system. It makes no physical sense. If I�m going to be walking around here for much longer, I better get started recharging my beam rifle, since I�ve switched to using it as my primary ranged weapon.

�Dungeon,� Ali answers.

�That isn�t an answer.�

�Yes, it is. The System designated this a dungeon, so it altered the physical space. It�s now bigger on the inside.� Ali pauses, awaiting a reaction. When he gets none, he mutters, �Goddamn muggle.�

�I think I liked it better when you were watching reality TV,� I grumble while walking the cave.

Normally my Skill gives me more of a heads-up about potential problems, but the increased Mana density in this dungeon is screwing with my Skill, reducing my ability to scan for threats to a bare ten meters. Ali�s got it better, but it still means we have to move carefully.

The bat drops from the ceiling and I sense it just a moment before it hits. I twist, spinning around and conjuring my sword as I cut the Noxious Bat in two. Not its real name, but after my first encounter and a quick briefing, I had to turn off my oxygen tank. They�re extremely good at hiding, but they smell like the seven heavens�so much so that even through the environmental filtering, my best method of locating them is my sense of smell. Of course, considering how powerful the environmental filtering is supposed to be, the fact that I can even smell them makes no sense. Then again, it doesn�t have to make sense if the System decides to break the rules. Again.

I loot the Noxious Bat�s corpse but don�t stick the body in my Altered Space, not wanting to contaminate my other goods. Then again, I�m not entirely sure the Bat would contaminate things. I have a theory that the System breaks many of the rules of physics because it�s trying to balance technology, magic, and skills. So if it gives a monster an environmental advantage, it wants that to mean something. Thus, the System breaks other rules to make it work. On the other hand, I can punch through walls without breaking the ground while doing so, so I�ll take the occasional weirdness. Not that I have a choice. The System is the System.

After another half hour of walking, I finally come to the end of the first floor. And I say floor since I find a straight chute going down, leading to what I can only assume is another level. Arse.

�How many floors do Dungeons have?� I frown. I�m confident, but if I�m looking at a dozen�

�How long�s the Ether Serpent�s tail?�

I point the gun down, firing another light orb, then call back my first drone so it can recharge while I send my second down. Hopefully it�s only these two floors�I only have two drones and their batteries take forever to recharge.

Down, down, down we go. Wherever we go, that�s where we kill. That doesn�t work, does it? Fine, you put together a rhyme while fighting off spine monsters in packs. Here, I�ll wait. Actually, no, I won�t, because I�m fighting Kongorads.

Ducking low, I grab a Kongorad and pick it up, power armor assisting the lift, and I use the creature to block the spines from its friends. I poke my rifle barrel around the twitching body, using the camera mounted on the barrel to target and fire. As I hear a distressed beep, I send the rifle back into my inventory and throw my improvised shield, following it to the last of the still-living monsters, which I stab in the head.

Monsters dead, I squat as my head swims, my body shuddering as it fights off the poison and gives me back full control of my body. Casting a Minor Heal helps a little, so I do it again.

The second level is taking forever. The Kongorads move in larger packs down here and they have a friend, a tripedal creature that skitters along the ground and releases beams of light that I have to dodge. Luckily, they aren�t that common, but between dealing with increasing amounts of poison and greater swarms, I�ve been having to take longer and longer breaks between each encounter.

�John, you sure you can do this?� Ali asks again.

I nod firmly, slowly standing and rotating my shoulders and knees as I check how far I�ve recovered. I check my projectile ammunition next, noting I�m down to less than two dozen armor piercing bullets. I queue up high explosives next, but I never bought that many of them�I�m a bit of a cheapskate and high explosive rounds are expensive. I kind of regret cheaping out now. Just another thing to lay at my father�s door.

Tackling these monsters head-on isn�t going to work. I need to think of a new idea or pull back. I frown as another shudder crosses through me. I can�t snipe the monsters�I don�t have the line of sights. The monsters work in packs, so trying to drag them out to kill one by one doesn�t seem to work. So�

�This is degrading!� Ali grouses.

I chuckle, looking over the cavern I�ve altered. If I can�t kill them one by one, I�ll pull them into a kill zone and force them to fight me in smaller numbers. I�ve torn down some stalagmites and stalactites and piled them up to create a bottleneck by using some of the insta-cement grenades I carry these days. On the improvised wall, I�ve got a small perch that has a little extra padding to slow down spines, enough that I can shoot at the monsters in relative safety. I�ve also added light orbs as far as I can see to give me as much visibility as possible. After that, well, it�s all up to Ali to play bait.

�Yeah, yeah, suck it up, buttercup.� I grin, leaning back and checking the map again.

�Asshole.� Ali heads toward the nearest group on the map, fully visible and glowing ever so slightly.

The kill zone works almost too well�pulling monsters to a fixed position and firing on them as they near me ensures I take out one or two before the swarm arrives. After that, most initially try a long-range duel. When that fails, they charge the opening I�ve left. It�s so tight that the monsters have to scramble and push to get through it, giving me more than enough time to whittle them down. The monsters are so blindly aggressive and stupid, they keep coming because they�ve got just that little chance to end me.

After each group, Ali gives me a few minutes to rest and loot before we start the process again. Each break takes longer as he searches farther and farther afield, drawing the monsters to me. The T�kichik are the most difficult, since they actually understand a bit about cover and sniping at long-range. Unfortunately for them, I can use magic and I�m more than happy to spam my Improved Mana Dart (II) at them till they fall over and die.

I almost feel bad for the Kongorad Alpha when Ali finally locates it. It comes rushing forward, flanked by its guards, and I greet them with a pair of plasma grenades, one after the other. The explosions rip apart most of my improvised walls, but between the grenades and my Lightning Strike spell, the guards are so much crispy meat. Facing the Alpha, who�s just a bigger version of the Kongorads, after that is simple. Outside of the numbness in my body that slows me down and makes me feel as though I�m running through water, killing it isn�t difficult at all. I just have to keep ducking, cutting, and shooting the monster till it falls over. When I�m done, I finally get what I�m looking for.

Congratulations! Dungeon Cleared

+5,000 XP

First Clear Bonus

Having cleared the dungeon for the first time, you have been rewarded an additional +5,000XP +1,000 Credits. Bonus for being the first explorer +5,000 XP +5,000 Credits.

Ingles Canyon Dungeon classified as Level 20+ and above

Damn. That was a good haul. That�s a huge experience increase, especially at my level. Between the two bonuses, I�m nearly halfway to a new level. I loot the last body and drop it into my Altered Space.

Pursing my lips, I consider the room around me. I always knew we�d be facing more and more dungeons�after all, we are designated a �Dungeon World� by the Galactic Council and System. Having finally run one, I�m thinking these will be a real problem. Running something that�s half my �real� level has me nearly out of ammo, tired, and just a little nauseated. Overall, I think it�s time to call it a day and head home. Home is good.

Chapter 2

Home is a two-story log house set at the turn-off on the Klondike Highway that leads to either Carcross or Teslin. A former restaurant and grocery store, the Cutoff has clear fields of fire up to fifty meters around its gravel parking lot and System cleared trees. In the past few weeks, I�ve paid to add reinforced System walls, windows, and doors to the building to increase its security, along with a simple Command Center that provides me with a System-enabled sentient tracking system and System-compatible utilities. The once-abandoned building is quite livable, if lonely.

I had a house in Whitehorse proper. Okay, in Riverdale, but that�s a fifteen-minute walk to downtown for a slow walker. I still have it really, though I�ve not really been back for a bit. Being out here, a good thirty minutes away by bike, has been peaceful. When the System came, it destroyed anything with electronics or delicate mechanisms. Since then, mechanics in Whitehorse have been fixing up cars and trucks to make sure they�re System-enabled, but it�s still rare to see a vehicle on the road. Certainly no one is taking joy rides anymore.

I might return to Whitehorse proper one day, but for now, my ex-party is staying at my house, taking care of the upkeep and ensuring monsters don�t move in. Whitehorse still hasn�t reached the threshold required to become a safe zone, which would stabilize the Mana flow around the city and stop monster evolution and spawning within the city limits. Last I heard, about thirty percent of the buildings in the city still need to be purchased. I can�t even imagine the time it�d take to get a place like New York completely stabilized.

As I pull up on Sabre, I find myself groaning and stretching slightly. I can�t help but think about the hot shower waiting for me inside the building. It�s why I don�t even see the giant armored hand that hauls me into the air before it�s too late to stop it. Reflexes honed through hours of battle kick in immediately and I�m jabbing forward, calling forth my sword. Before I can hit anything, my hand is locked to my side in an iron grip. I don�t stand a chance of breaking out of it so I don�t even try, curling my body up around the arm holding me and kicking at the body with everything I�ve got. The impact is enough to rip me away from the arm, my body rolling and coming up by reflex even as my brain finally catches up to wonder what the hell is happening.

�Stop!�

I freeze as my brain points out the many, many guns pointed at me. I�m surrounded by armored attackers slowly shimmering into reality, cloaking deactivating. All of them are large, tusked, and fully armored in black-and-green futuristic combat armor.

Hakarta Lieutenant (Level 31 Burning Scar)

HP: 4890/4890

Status Effects: None

�Gremlin�s balls! It�s a full Elite platoon, John. This isn�t even the right lineup!� Ali almost screams as he pulls up the information, displaying data above each of my attackers.

Lieutenant, a pair of sergeants, four privates, and a major. The lowest levels come from the privates, and they�re Level 17 Advanced Classes.

I�ve never heard Ali sound panicked before, not even when I was taunting and kiting a Salamander across kilometers of forested terrain. His fear opens up a cold pit of dread in my stomach, one that I forcibly compartmentalize. I�m so out-leveled it�s not funny. The Cutoff is a System-designated fort, which means it has certain importance in terms of location and placement. When I first drove past it months ago, I was shot at by these guys�the Hakarta. Space mercenaries, most closely resembling our version of an Orc but with sci-fi armor, tactics, and laser weapons. Not to say they aren�t armed with a series of nasty-looking melee weapons either.

�Are you the owner of this fort?� the major asks, making me turn slightly to look at him.

I keep an eye on my original attacker, noticing how he�s leaning forward, hands opening and closing. Trouble is going to come from there. The major�s voice is low, a growl more than a phrase, but it�s tinged with an upper-class British accent that reminds me of my popular Victorian TV shows. The idiosyncrasies of learning a language from the System can be particularly amusing, I�ve realized. I�d laugh, but I don�t think they�d get the joke.

�Yes,� I reply, my hands twitching slightly as one of the Hakarta picks up the sword I dropped when I was blocked.

As a private grabs my pistol, I tense up slightly then force myself to relax as the rifle barrels shift, following even that slightest of motions. Arse. They don�t bother touching Sabre, probably realizing it won�t work for them without significant hacking. They do take my energy rifle from its holster on her though.

�What happened to my men?� the major says.

�Uhh��

As I hesitate, the lieutenant steps forward and throws a punch at me. I see it coming, in time perhaps to dodge it, but under their guns, I take the punch. It slams into my stomach, forcing me to bow slightly in pain and exhale. Of course I�m wearing an undersuit of armor, but the son of a bitch hits like Mike Tyson. Or what I figure Tyson hits like.

�Remove your helmet. And do not hesitate again,� the major says.

I comply, removing the helmet to look around me. �Ali, glitter ball special on my command,� I think to him while answering the major. �They�re dead.�

�You are their killer?� the major asks.

I can�t for the life of me read him. It�s not just the alien body language or the armor covering his body; it�s that he isn�t giving away anything. I consider, very briefly and very quickly, lying, but reject the idea. The Yerick and Roxley both have ways of telling if someone is lying, and I am willing to bet so does the major.

�Yes. They attacked me first,� I answer, ready to let Ali know and trigger my QSM. The last time I fought these guys, they had quantum grenades that ripped through me even while I was in in my phased state, but any chance is better than none.

The major looks at me for a time then nods to the lieutenant, who steps back, away from me. �Explain the incident to me. In detail.�

I cough, rubbing at my stomach. As the lieutenant moves to hit me again, I start explaining, in detail, how I was looking for survivors after the System came into place, how I was attacked while driving here, my tactics, and finally, how I finished the matter. When I�m done, the silence lingers for a time.

The major makes his helmet disappear, an act that is copied by all his men. �They hid in the command room?�

I nod, fear slowly replaced with burning anger. I flex my hand, letting my gaze wander once more as I try to think of a survivable way of fighting back. I come up with nothing even as the major�s face twists and he spits on the ground. A few moments later, the other Hakarta follow his example. Interesting fact�Hakarta spit is green.

�I am Labashi Ruka, Major of the Sixty-Third Division. It is a pleasure to meet you, warrior,� Labashi says, deadpan.

The lieutenant twitches again, his purple eyes narrowing in displeasure.

I stare at the lieutenant for a moment before turning to Labashi. First they attack me, then they beat me, then they introduce themselves? Well, I guess Orc manners are just a little different. Or insane, if you will. So fine, insane it is. �John Lee. This means you decided not to kill me?�

�Haven�t decided yet,� the major answers. �Your actions have cost the Sixty-Third Division a decent supplementary bonus.�

I feel my grin widening as he so casually mentions my death. Well, okay then. I keep my voice level as I buy time to figure a way out. �Supplementary bonus?�

�Information about the city of Whitehorse was requested. As the information was not part of the original contract, the bonus is supplementary. It was, however, substantial.� Labashi just stands there, staring at me.

�Right�� I stare at him then flick my glance to Ali. �Is he hinting I should give him that information?�

�YES!� Ali bounces up and down, nodding. �If you don�t, I will!�

�Well, perhaps I can help with that.� My smile widens, becoming all teeth. All right, let�s see how this dance goes. �What do you need to know?�

Labashi returns my smile, all toothy grin, then flicks his gaze over to the lieutenant. The lieutenant makes a slight motion and a blue screen appears in front of me, detailing the information they wish. Current owner, political situation, individuals in power, notable parties, defenses�

I shake my head, looking the list over. �I know some of this, but I�ve not really been plugged in for the last few weeks.�

�Plugged in?� Labashi snorts slightly, large green nose flaring around his tusks.

�Uhh� been in touch. I moved out here a few weeks ago and haven�t been talking to people as much,� I explain.

Labashi nods. �That is acceptable. Tell us what you know.�

�Right, let�s see. Lord Roxley is the current landowner. There�s a Human City Council that sort of, but not really, works with him about running the city. Some Yerick arrived a few months ago and moved in too. No one truly notable beyond Lord Roxley and the Yerick First Fist. Everyone else is low level compared to you guys. The city still doesn�t have a stable Mana flow, so safe zones are limited to buildings. The human population is just above four thousand, if I recall correctly.� Down from a population of nearly thirty thousand before the Apocalypse.

As Labashi nods, I continue to speak, digging through my brain for the information he wants. I give him a list of facts, things he could purchase off the System if he really gave a damn to. None of this is �secret,� so none of it would be expensive. Hell, with their Stealth capabilities, it�d only take them a few days at most to figure this out.

�Security includes gate guards, a stone wall, and I believe technological shielding on the walls, though I�ve not seen them in play. Guards are, of course, Lord Roxley�s men and some humans.�

�Good. Tell me of these Lord Roxley�s men,� Labashi says.

I grimace but settle in, detailing who I recall seeing. The only thing I leave out are levels. No reason for him to know that I can read them, and I�m not offering that information up. For what seems like hours, the questioning continues. Once they realize I�m willing to talk, the guards relax slightly and we end up on my porch, drinking and snacking. I introduce the major to chocolate, which he seems highly appreciative of. He in turn introduces me to a fruit drink from his home world.

It�s a friendly interrogation, but it�s an interrogation nonetheless and he pulls a ton of information from me. I let him lead the questioning, never offering more information than what he asks for, but he�s good, very good, at getting what he wants. All the while, the lieutenant stands directly behind me, and if looks could kill, I�d be a laser-riddled corpse.

The flow of information isn�t just one way though. Being able to talk to them in a more relaxed setting means I can ask questions too. Carefully. I learn why it took them so long to come check on the fort. It seems their employer is a bit of a cheapskate and since each confirmed death of a Hakarta had a blood price, so long as the Hakarta were marked as �missing,� he didn�t need to make final payment. This little journey is actually off-the-books and completely on Labashi�s time.

�I do like these Belgian chocolates best.� Labashi pops one last piece into his mouth before he stands. �However, I must return to my division. Would you prefer the blade or the beam?�

I stand too, offering my hand once again. When my brain catches up, I freeze, staring at the hulking brute before me. Shit�

�John?� Labashi asks again, his voice calm.

In my peripheral vision, I see the Lieutenant has already drawn his blade. I shake my head then slowly speak. �Why?�

�Blood must pay in blood,� Labashi answers, and I gulp.

�Bullshit!� Ali pops into existence, glaring at him. He�s been quiet, invisible the whole time, and working furiously on his own screens while we talked.

�Ah, the Spirit makes his appearance.� Labashi�s lips pull apart, widening into what could charitably be called a grin. �And why would I shit with a bull?�

�Bugger that, you�re just angling for something with boy-o here. Why don�t you just say it?� Ali taps his foot. �You boys aren�t that bloodthirsty, and the fight was fair, so there�s no blood debt.�

Labashi continues to grin, staring at Ali before he laughs then nods. �Very well, Spirit. I shall stop pulling the leg of the Adventurer. We stand to gain additional Credits for continued information about this Whitehorse. I desire John to provide that information.�

I grunt. Now that my heart isn�t thundering, that makes a lot of sense. In fact, from the way he was speaking during our interrogation, I was pretty sure he was going to ask me to do that, though I didn�t expect him to threaten me. Then again, I guess this is what they call blackmail. That word, that thought sets off the slow kindling flame of anger in me again, the one that�s been trying to get out since I got attacked in my own home. I really, really don�t like getting pushed around. �Can do.�

Labashi grins again, clapping me on the shoulder and gesturing for his people to get together. �We will provide you a list of what is required.�

I nod and wait till they�re gathered and have walked away a bit before I call out, �So what am I getting paid?�

They turn as a group, and even Ali spins to stare at me.

Labashi opens his mouth and I continue. �Don�t bother with threats. If you kill me, you get nothing, so that doesn�t work out for you. Of course, I�d be dead, but it still doesn�t help you.�

The lieutenant shifts, stepping toward me, and I shake my head. �Last warning, don�t try it.�

�Kyroc,� Labashi says, and the lieutenant steps back. Good discipline. �Do you believe you can beat us?�

�No, but I�m really good at running. I just need a little head start.� I smile slightly, gesturing to where they are, and let just a little of my anger reach my eyes. �That�s about enough.�

�I see� and what do you desire?� Labashi answers, sharp teeth beginning to show as he looks at me.

�Payment of course. You want me to be a spy? Well, spies get paid.� I shrug. �We�ll call it, oh� twenty percent of the System price. And a guarantee we don�t ever have this conversation again.�

�Impossible! Twenty percent is too high.�

I glance at Ali, who doesn�t make a move. �What�s your number?�

�Ten percent.�

�Twenty-five.�

�That is not how you negotiate,� Labashi replies, eyes narrowing.

�It is when you give a too low number to begin with.� This is stupid, but that�s okay. I�m about fifty percent sure I can get away before they can kill me. And if not� well, fuck it. I was dead as of three months ago anyway. �Shall we try for higher?�

�Twenty-five,� Labashi answers, nodding.

�And a guarantee of immunity from prosecution from the Hakarta,� I add.

�I can only guarantee for my division,� Labashi says.

�That�ll do.�

�Then the deal is done.�

�One thing�I don�t guarantee I�ll be able to get all the information you want,� I add.

�The deal will be voided if you do not treat fairly with us and attempt to learn the requested information,� Labashi adds, then his grin widens. �And I will find you and show you how we feel about deal-breakers.�

�Fair enough.� I smile back at him, the pit of anger still burning away.

�Then the deal is done,� Labashi repeats again.

The way he says it makes me think it is ritual, so I repeat it myself.

Contract Initiated and Agreed Upon by Labashi Ruka and John Lee.

Further Details? (Y/N)

I blink and my eyes narrow slightly at the Orc. He just flashes me another toothy grin before pulling on his helmet as the group turns and walks away. I watch them leave before I retrieve my weapons and dismiss my sword. I have a feeling I somehow got played�

�Well, that was fun.� I slump down next to the door, letting out a long exhalation when I finally decide that they really are gone.

�What the hell!� Ali mutters, shaking his head. �You had to challenge him?�

�Didn�t like being pushed around.�

�Idiot! And he got you into a contract. You sure you up to this, boy-o?�

�Why not? Aren�t you the one who�s always saying everything has a price in the System? If they really wanted to know, they could just buy it. I might as well get paid,� I say a bit bitterly. �Anyway, I never said I wasn�t going to tell the others about this.�

�Playing both sides?� Ali says, and I shrug.

�Possibly. This way, at least we know what they want to know. Better to control the flow of information than not.� I rub my temples before I tilt my head toward Ali. �I wonder who their employer is.�

�You could find out.�

I consider it before shake my head. I�m not that interested in wasting good Credit. I look down at my hands, seeing that they�ve stopped shaking and somehow a chocolate piece is in one. I finish unwrapping it and pop it into my mouth, leaning back against the wall and savoring the taste. Gods, that was close.

�Could I have escaped?� I wonder aloud.

�No idea. Probably not,� Ali adds, shaking his head. �You don�t become a major without at least a few tricks up your sleeve.�

�Yeah�� I shut my eyes, shaking my head. At least for now, the Hakarta are a known threat. I�ll have to figure out what, if anything, to do about them later. �So, care to explain contracts?�

�It�s a Skill.� Ali�s brows furrow. �I guess it�s not surprising Mercenaries have it, but I should have warned you. I just didn�t realize he had it. The Skill binds the user and other parties into the deal they agreed upon. If you fail to live up to your side, it not only notifies him, but the System will also impose a penalty upon you. Mostly a Mana tax and the ability for the user to track you. Which can be transferred. Bounty hunters make most of their living off contract breakers.�

I nod slowly, grimacing. Great. And the deal�s open-ended. The only advantage is that like any permanent alteration in the System, the major�s got to be paying for the contract through his Mana, so it�s not something he�d want to keep forever.

�All right, boy-o, up and at them. You need a bath,� Ali says after I�ve been sitting there for a bit.

�I�� I frown then shake my head. �No. Let�s head in. I think� I think I need some company.�

I slowly stand up and look back at the fort. Company, safety, perhaps a place to put my head down. The Hakarta aren�t likely to come back, but� tonight I�ll sleep in my house in Whitehorse.

Chapter 3

�John!� Xev chitters, hunched over and waving its claws in my face.

I plaster on a smile for Xev, looking it over. With six legs and a pair of three-fingered hands on a black, hairy body with a bulbous abdomen and front, Xev looks like a giant black spider with hands. It�s a little disconcerting, and the first time I saw it, I had to work really hard at not shooting it and I�m not even scared of spiders. It�s no wonder Xev mostly hides in its store.

�Is Sabre good?�

�Not bad, just some minor structural damage.� I gesture at the bike as I turn it off in the parking space outside Xev�s workshop.

Xev chitters angrily, waving me away before it starts prodding at Sabre. As Xev scrambles around the bike, fitting a variety of wires into various slots, it pokes at one of the armor points and peels the point away with its tools, staring at the insides of the bike. �This is old! You should bring it in faster next time. Even if your nanite upgrades fix the armor, the structural damage is still there.�

�Sorry,� I say automatically.

Really, the structural damage was so minor it didn�t seem to matter. Putting all that money into the Omnitron Class II Nanite Armor Upgrade has saved me a ton in repairs, even if the armor class didn�t go up. As Xev mutters to itself, I have to clear my throat to get its attention.

After a quick discussion, I leave Sabre with it for the evening and head for the butchering yard. The butchering yard is what used to be the old fire hall, a single-story sprawling building with wide barn doors that face onto the old prospector train tracks. The train tracks aren�t connected to anything anymore, and before the Apocalypse, they were mostly used to gouge tourists during the summer. The entire area from the fire hall to the old train station is part of the yard now, with the newly made compost piles making up the third portion of their rather smelly triangle next to the river.

Thankfully, low-level enchantments keep the wind blowing into the river, keeping the smells of butchered and rotting carcasses away from downtown Whitehorse. Occasionally a mage will come along and cast a Purge Disease spell to keep things sanitary. Or as sanitary as anything can be around here. Of course, sending all those lovely smells out across the river brings its own problems. They�ve recently had to add guards on the other side of the river to deal with the increased monster presence.

At the yard, I follow directions and watch as the bodies from my Altered Space are pulled apart, weighed, and portions of the body separated for both Sally, the town�s leading Alchemist, and Xev. As usual, I get a Quest completion with a small amount of experience and Credit bonus for turning in the meat, which is partly why I do so. The other reason is that while we�re doing well with food for now, come winter, food will be significantly more difficult to acquire. Even now, the city is desperately attempting to stock up for winter since we aren�t getting deliveries from down south anymore. I wonder how they�re doing down there?

Shaking my head, I dismiss the thought. Not really my problem. I watch the men and women swarm the bodies, harvesting the body parts and dumping them into carts, moving with grace and strength that would have been impossible even a few months ago. As I turn away, my eye is drawn to the futuristic, towering monstrosity of an office building that sits smack dab in the center of the city, its mirrored silvery appearance at odds with the quaint two-and three-story 1920s era commercial buildings of the town. That tower is one I know well�it�s where the Shop is, and where Lord Roxley resides and reigns over us all. Once upon a time I was a regular visitor there, till things fell apart. Once upon a time�

I shake my head, dismissing the matter. As I walk up Main Street, I notice that more and more buildings are coming back to life. We have a grocery store with handmade local luxuries, an armorer with locally crafted low-level armor pieces, a couple of competing alchemists, a trio of clothing stores, the Guild, the hotels that have been purchased, and of course, the only open pub in the city.

As always, the pub is noisy and busy. What kind of Adventurers would we be without a pub? It�s not as if the Yukon led Canada in the highest alcohol consumption per person. Or that our local brewing company was set up two weeks ago as one of the first major private enterprises.

I feel my lips twist as I stare at it, wry humor and irritation sparking alongside one another in my mind. I don�t even know why I�m angry� I shove it aside, bottling up the anger once again as I step into the establishment. The inside of the Nugget is all dark faux wood and worn, mismatched furniture. The Apocalypse came on fast, and rampaging monsters and panicked humans destroyed the old furniture sets. Now, it�s catch as catch can.

At eight in the evening, the Nugget is busy and noisy, filled with people resting, eating, and drinking after a long day�s work. Hunting parties sit together and dominate the room. A few craftsmen sit in their own groups. Skimpily dressed young women do most of the serving, dropping off beer, steaks, and fish and chips in large quantities. As I survey the inside, a waving hand catches my attention. Jason, a thin, weedy-looking teenager who looks way too young to be in here.

For a moment, I consider not going over. However, Jason hasn�t done anything to me and I do want to check up on the kid. I walk over, letting my gaze slide over the group with him. Richard, redheaded and dashing with a new young lady on his arm and Shadow, a pony-sized husky, curled up beside his feet. Mikito, her ever-present naginata resting against the wall behind her, a look of strained patience plastered on her face. Constable Mike Gadsby with his metal arm and tired eyes. The first two were my former party members; the last was one of the leaders of Carcross.

Jason Cope (Level 38 Elementalist)

HP: 230/230

Constable Mike Gadsby (Level 37 Guardian)

HP: 940/940

Mikito Sato (Level 32 Samurai)

HP: 530/530

Richard Pearson (Level 31 Beast Tamer)

HP: 250/250

I look around, spotting Rachel with the Brothers of the Wolf, the First Nation�s exclusive group of teenagers, and my eyes narrow. Did she quit to join them or�?

I shake my head as Jason pulls a chair to the table for me, squeezing it in so I can take a seat. My back is to the door, which makes me twitch slightly, but I�m the last to arrive, so beggars can�t be choosers. �Evening.�

�John, we wanted to ask Ali about something,� Jason says immediately, not even bothering to greet me.

A passing waitress drops a pint of beer on the table for me, assuming I�ll be drinking. No need for questions of what I�ll drink�it�s either water or beer here and I�m not drinking water.

�Questions are five Credits, answers are ten,� Ali says as he floats after one of the waitresses. �Toots, I need a drink too.�

I see the quick flash of irritation before the waitress�s face smooths out. She returns to drop a glass from her tray before she heads back to the bar, where the bartender works feverishly to keep up with the nonstop flow of orders.

�You drink?� I stare as Ali picks up the pint glass before chugging it down.

�I do now.� Ali smirks, clearly proud of himself.

Jason blinks at Ali before he shakes his head. �It�s about Stats, man. We�ve been talking about it and I�ve been charting the growth. It just doesn�t make sense. Like, I�ve got a Strength of 20 now. So that should mean I�m, like, twice as strong as a normal human, or maybe double the peak? And I sure aren�t.

�Even dumber? The non-physical ones don�t even make sense. I�m smarter than before, but I�m not, you know, making physics breakthroughs. Richard�s all kinds of sexy and he�s getting laid like crazy, but so�s Mike. No offense, old man. But for the level of his Stats, I should be wanting to sleep with Richard and I ain�t. No offense.�

�None taken. I don�t do kids,� Richard replies, and the pixie-haired blonde next to him frowns, looking at Richard then Jason.

�So what the hell? I don�t get this shit,� Jason says.

�Ali, I got this,� I think to my friend. As the waitress comes up, I point at the chalkboard menu. �One of everything.�

Having delayed it long enough, I turn to Jason and grin, a little cruel streak popping up. �First, stop swearing. Your mom would be angry. Second, you sure you�re old enough to be drinking here?�

�Har, har. Funny. I was talking to Ali.� Jason prods at his nose in an attempt to adjust non-existent glasses.

I chuckle, leaning back, and pull a chocolate piece from my inventory. �Seriously though, I can answer this. It�s very simple�it�s the System.�

Richard groans and Mikito snorts, sipping on her beer. The others just look puzzled at the inside joke.

I elaborate. �The System�s the System. No use trying to figure it out. It doesn�t make sense.�

�Oh, come on! I know you said this isn�t a game, but we still need to understand!�

I grimace then glance at Ali, who sighs, putting his third pint down half-finished. He lets out a large burp before he waggles his fingers, a glowing blue screen appearing. It�s filled with symbols, circles, dashes, and dots that combine in distinct groupings much like Egyptian hieroglyphs. �Right, System basics 101. One hundred Credits. And I won�t ever give this talk again.�

�A hundred!� Jason sputters, glaring at Ali, who nods before Jason relents, sending over the payment.

�Good man. You see that? That�s what it actually says for �Strength.� That�s in System,� Ali points. �That gets translated to this��the screen shifts, the language changing to a series of scrawls now��which is Galactic Script. That then gets translated to your respective human language. As you can guess, the translation is actually a lot more complex.

�When you increase your Strength attribute, you�re adjusting all of that. The change actually adjusts the way you manage Mana via the System. For example�Gadsby. You should have shattered the table and your pint glass by being that rough. After all, you probably could punch through steel right now. However, your Strength comes from the System. So the System alters the density and strength of things you interact with, thus, non-breaking tables and ground that can handle movement at speed. Hell, Mikito even bends beam weapons ever so slightly around her as she dodges. The System �helps� all of you without you consciously knowing it.�

Jason opens his mouth then shuts it while Gadsby and the blonde look on in interest. Richard and Mikito look bored, having heard this before. Me? I just get to eating as the first plate arrives. Funny thing about adventuring�you end up eating a ton.

�So your points aren�t a straight line. They literally are a kind-of-approximate tool to let you understand the System better. The Council cobbled it together from the way you guys understand the System and what it�d bring about.

�As for Intelligence and the other intangibles, well, as I told John a long time ago, Intelligence increases don�t necessarily make you smarter. Physically, your brain has been altered a bit. But you can�t do higher physics because you never learnt the basics. You have faster neural processes, but if all you�ve done is fight, those new neural connections might help you think and react faster in a fight but that�s it. Also, don�t forget that much of those increases and changes are going to help you control and manipulate Mana itself.� Ali shrugs. �I�ve heard of a few people who have managed to become super-geniuses from increasing their intelligence, but most of them were already on the borderline anyway.�

Jason shakes his head, trying to put it together. �What are you saying? That Intelligence isn�t intelligence? That it�s more Mana pool?�

�Yes. No. Maybe,� Ali answers. �Look, think of it like your Earth computers. You got a motherboard�your body. Intelligence increases help adjust the motherboard and the RAM, increasing both. Sometimes it upgrades your motherboard, sometimes it upgrades the RAM. Sometimes it adds a new graphics card or new slots so you can plug in more things, like Psionic powers. However, you still need to run the right programs to make your computer work. That means getting the right Skills. Doesn�t matter how good a computer you have, if you�re doing 1+1, it�s still 1+1.�

Jason frowns then opens his mouth before shutting it. Kid�s trying to game the System again, just like he did when he started. Still, the fact that he�s filled out a bit and doesn�t look like a stiff breeze will send him over probably means he�s been putting points into something other than Intelligence. Which is good.

�How about Charisma? Am I sleeping with Richard because I want to or because he wants me to or because the System does?� the blonde queries, brow furrowed.

I push my plate aside and tackle the next one�a plate of cross-hatched ribs stewed in a really tasty barbecue sauce. Even as I dig in, I make sure to listen to this answer. I know I have� issues with that ability. It�s part of why I turned down Roxley. And Lana. I don�t like the idea of being told to like someone.

�Sort of.� Ali shrugs and opens his hand. �It�s the same answer. Yes, his Charisma trait makes him look better to you, makes his pheromones more powerful and enticing. No, it�s not directly affecting your emotions or thoughts. You need to use a Skill for that.� Left unsaid is the fact that a successful Skill use would leave no traces when it came to Social skills like that. �Maybe the System is affecting things to some degree. Then again, if Claudia Schiffer came along, I wouldn�t say no.�

The girl opens her mouth then shuts it, looking at Richard then back at Ali. Unconsciously, she edges away from Richard, putting space between them.

Richard rolls his eyes at Ali, mouthing, �Thank you,� as he leans back and folds his arms.

Mike, on the other hand, is frowning, rubbing his chin. I guess the question of consent really bites considering his former profession. Must be tough being one of two living constables in a couple of hundred kilometers.

I push my other plate aside, grabbing the third and last one, a bowl of stew. Not much choice yet, but what there is is good. As the others devolve into discussing details, forcing Ali to pull up descriptions and going into them line by line, I turn back to my own thoughts. One thing I don�t add is that it�s quite likely whoever created the System is purposely nerfing Intelligence. I�d lay good money down that whoever built this didn�t want a bunch of super-intelligences running around. After all, if we get too smart, we might figure out a way to survive without the System and that, I know, is something the creators don�t want. I�ve called the entire System a scam, and the more I read and learn, the more certain I am that it is. It�s like one of those multi-level marketing schemes where the moment you buy in, you have to keep buying in.

�Coming tomorrow?� Mikito says when she manages to catch my eye.

I blink, raising an eyebrow and she sighs.

�The Boss attacks?�

�I don�t know what you�re talking about,� I say.

She frowns, shooting a look at Richard, who has joined in the discussion. �That�s why Jason and Mike are here. We�re grouping up to take on some of the Bosses. You should have been invited.� Concern tinges her voice.

�I�m not exactly Mr. Popular around here.�

�I don�t care. Are you coming?�

I shrug. �No idea.� I lean back as I push the stew aside, wiping my face before sipping on my drink. �Maybe. You guys probably can handle it.�

�It�d be good for you. For us.� She sighs. �Fine, you baka.�

Yeah, well� I don�t really see a point. I don�t owe the city anything, not anymore. And whatever she thinks, my presence might cause more problems than I fix. As she falls silent, shrinking back into her seat, I listen in on the conversation. It�s moved on, thankfully, from the System to town gossip, and I make sure to pay attention. After all, you never know what I might learn, and I�m getting paid now. I think.

�Lana,� I greet the redheaded stunner as I walk into my house.

She�s tucked away in the kitchen, waving at screens only she can see. Richard and Mikito left the pub hours ago, both of them heading home to get some rest for their big day tomorrow. I have to admit, I was kind of glad to see them go. While I might not hold much animosity toward them, the camaraderie we had is now strained. By the time I decided to leave, I was getting more than a few dirty looks from the tired bar staff as they worked to clear up for the evening.

Lana looks up, and Richard�s sister, as always, takes my breath away. Piercing bright blue eyes that turn green and violet in certain lights, and her version of a uniform�a simple blouse and pair of jeans�does nothing to hide her ample curves. There are people in this life who, if you�re real lucky, you have that inexplicable �it� with. Call it chemistry, call it a biological urge, some even call it love, but there�s an instantaneous attraction. As Lana smiles at me, I can�t help but think it only took the end of the world for me to meet not one but two such individuals at the same damn time. Of course, it would require the end of the world to meet a Truinnar like Roxley. All in all, it�s about about par for the course with my luck.

Flicking her hand to dismiss her System screens, she says, �John.�

�Up late?� I step into the kitchen, drawn like a moth to a flame. Closer, I see slight bags under her eyes and a tension in her shoulders that I�ve never seen before.

�Just work.� Her eyes flick over my form too in silent assessment. �What�s wrong?�

�Isn�t that my line?�

�Har! I�m not the one who runs into trouble all the time. I�m just a paper pusher,� she says, shaking her head. �Seriously, John, what�s wrong?�

�Nothing much.� I keep my hands on the table, mostly to make sure I know where they are as I sit down across her. I have to admit, it bothers me a little that she can read me so well�even my father never seemed to be able to do that. Not that he ever paid that much attention to me� I push the old bitter thoughts aside.

�John�� Lana�s voice changes, growing stern.

�I just had some visitors. The Hakarta.� I shrug, and at her puzzled expression, I add, �The Space Orcs.�

�Oh.� Her lips tighten, then she shakes her head, drawing her own conclusions. Probably violent ones.

�So what papers are you pushing?�

�The usual. Business proposals. Loan extension requests. Reports and cashflow projections.� She shakes her head before rubbing her temples.

Lana runs the biggest investment fund in Whitehorse, initially funded through my killings, but these days it�s pretty self-sufficient. From what I recall, she basically has a hand in every significant private enterprise since the System came into play. Not that I�ve seen a Credit in return�every single Credit of profit has been plowed right back into the City and the fund. Still, it�s nice to know I�ve got a nest egg growing somewhere.

�Get an AI, toots,� Ali says, appearing on the table next to her and flashing her a grin.

�Ali.�

The smile Lana gives the Spirit sends a spike of anger through me, and I quell it. Just because the two have gotten closer since they saved my ass a month ago is no reason for me to get jealous. None at all.

�Aren�t those expensive?� she asks.

�Only if you get them as a Companion. If you get an off-the-rack one, they�ll be pretty cheap. A basic one shouldn�t cost you much at all. Just make sure to get the heavy security models. Definitely don�t get a Spirit. No self-respecting Spirit wants to be a glorified personal assistant.�

Lana nods, rubbing her chin. �I don�t know, I don�t have a lot of Credits left��

�Use the Fund,� I chime in. �It�s a business expense.�

�I don�t think it works that way,� Lana says, frowning at me.

�Says who?� I smirk then wave. �Not as if the CRA are coming after you for taxes. So long as you buy it through the Shop, Roxley gets his cut. Way I see it, you�re all good.�

�I guess�� She rubs her temples again before her voice drops lower. �John, we should talk��

�Yes.� I blink, tilting my head. I quell the urge to flee, sensible as it may be.

�Mikito says you won�t be with us tomorrow,� Lana says.

My brain jerks to a stop as thoughts rearrange. Oh, we�re not having The Talk. Just a talk. Right, I can deal with that. �Yeah, I wasn�t� wait. Us?� I lean forward, my voice tight.

�I�m going too. The Bosses, they need to be killed.�

�Of course they do. Why are you going?�

�Because it needs to be done,� she replies, frowning.

�Sure, sure. But you�re�� I open my mouth then clamp it shut as Ali shakes his head at me. Oh crap.

�I�m what, John?� Her voice rising, Lana glares at me. �A paper pusher? A girl?�

�No, not that. You just, you know, haven�t really been��

She snorts. �If you�ve forgotten, I walked here with Mikito and Richard. I still go out with them once in a while.� Lana gets to her feet. �I saved your ungrateful ass a month ago. I can take care of myself.�

I open my mouth, wanting to point out that, if I knew her at all, she was just about to ask me to keep her higher-Leveled brother safe, but I snap it shut at Ali�s screamed, mental, �NO.�

Right, right. Not the way to win an argument. While I�m working that all out, Lana stomps right out and I watch her back, grimacing.

�Well done, boy-o.� Ali golf-claps from his seat on the table.

�Bite me.�

Late at night, I stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out what went wrong. I spent weeks away from them all, trying to come to terms with who and what I am. With the anger that sits in me, the world that we live in. And within hours of coming back, I�m fighting with Lana and confused once again.

I don�t know what they want from me, not really, and the gods know I definitely don�t know what I want. To survive, sure. To get through another day, get a little stronger, get a little better. To fight, because I can? Saying it, thinking it out loud, it seems so stupid.

I slowly exhale, focusing on just breathing for a few moments. I don�t know what I want for myself or for Lana. I just know that I don�t want her to die. I don�t want anyone else I could save to die. Truth be told, as much as I said otherwise to Mikito, I probably would have gone and kept an eye on the group anyway. Now that Lana�s going, I�m definitely going. I don�t need another ghost haunting my conscience�I have enough already.

Chapter 4

�What did you do?� Richard mutters as he grabs my arm, dragging me aside the next morning.

The hunting groups had gathered around the sternwheeler near Rotary Park. When I drove in, late, Richard immediately spotted me and stalked over.

�My sister�s been on the warpath all morning!� Richard growls, gripping my arm tightly. �She�s insisting on being part of the main teams instead of the reserve.�

�What makes you think I did anything?� I ask innocently, giving him big eyes behind my helmet.

�Because she only ever gets that angry when it comes to you!� Richard lets go of my arm, glaring at me. �If she gets hurt��

�You�ll get your puppies to tear me limb for limb. Got it,� I reply wryly and shake my head. Those two�

As Richard opens his mouth to say something else, he�s cut off by a short, angry man in a suit. A suit in this day and age. And in Whitehorse too, where formal attire is your best plaid shirt and a pair of clean jeans.

His voice rising as he speaks, shorty says, �What is he doing here?�

I grin at Eric Roth, aka Minion. �Just ambling along. How you doing?�

�You! Get out of here. This is official Whitehorse City Council business and you are not invited,� Minion snarls, stepping forward and vibrating.

I�m reminded of a tiny yappy dog. I feel one side of my lips tug up at the thought, and he stops and steps back.

�Trust me, I�m not here for you,� I drawl then raise a hand. Minion flinches slightly, probably remembering my hand wrapped around his throat, and I flick it, shooing him away. �Go do your thing.�

Minion glares at me, opening his mouth to say something else before he�s cut off by a low rumble.

�Are we to begin, Councilor Roth? I am being paid by the hour.� The speaker is a nine-foot-tall bull-man hybrid, a full-on Minotaur from legends, in sci-fi battle armor. The Minotaur even has an axe, though the barrel shape in the center lends credence to the idea that it�s more than just a melee weapon.

The Yerick�the real name for the Minotaurs�is the only group of immigrants to Whitehorse thus far. They haven�t had the best of receptions and there�s a large degree of animosity toward them. Led by Capstan Ulrik, their First Fist�whatever that means�the Yerick are a tribe of career Adventurers. When the Yerick are invited and I�m not, that shows you how low I am on the totem pole of popularity.

Minion�s face twists again in a sneer before he hurries over to the group leaders, where Lana and Mikito stand. Lana shoots me a glare that could freeze water solid.

Richard mutters next to me, �You have got to stop antagonizing that man.�

�Better to twit him than kill him,� I reply, flexing my hand by my side.

�Sometimes I�m not entirely sure if you�re joking,� Richard says.

I don�t let him know that I�m not sure either. Minion almost literally admitted to burning down the Yerick�s buildings, but here he is, walking around free and clear and organizing everyone, and I�m persona non grata. Okay, fine, choking him out in broad daylight might have been a bit of an overreaction to losing face in front of Roxley and Capstan, but even now, I feel my blood boil at the betrayal. I exhale, forcing myself to let it go. The past is past, after all. Time to stop bitching about it. What is, is.

I shake my head slightly, realizing that Richard left while I was caught up in my thoughts. As much as I believe Minion was the mastermind behind the fire, there�s no evidence. He never directly admitted to anything, and the actual culprits have been caught and tried. They�re working off their debts in the compound that the Yerick built on their burnt-out plots of land, and as far as the city is concerned, the case is closed. Tensions between the races are high still, but between the increased surveillance drones and a few very public and nasty beatdowns by the Yerick, direct attacks have stopped.

As I stand by myself and idly watch Minion speak to the groups, I read lips and pick out where he�s sending everyone. Ali helps by hacking his System window and displaying it for me, adding annotations as each group is directed to a different Boss. I wonder where Fred, our erstwhile mayor, is before I remember he prefers to let his minions do the actual work.

If I have to say one good thing about Minion, it�s that he�s highly organized. Ten minutes later, the groups are disappearing and that�s even after time to answer any questions. My gaze wanders over each group once more, watching as Capstan splits a few of his men off to join different groups. It�s not a horrible setup, other than the fact that Minion only intends to keep a single reserve team�the Chaos Hands. I check their levels again, see that nothing is over 25, and wince. We�re all still under-leveled for this area.

My gaze sweeps over the group again and I realize that gathered here are the careful, the lucky, and the crazy. The brave, the rational, and the unlucky are dead, murdered in the first few days of the System for the most part. First responders, the RCMP, the burgeoning heroes all died in the opening scenes of the Apocalypse, fighting creatures that out-leveled them. It�s only through the mercy of the gods and Lord Roxley�s presence that we�ve survived as long as we have.

�So, boy-o, we following the girl?� Ali sends to me mentally, and I nod. �You know she�s going to be pissed, right?�

�Better pissed than dead. We�ll hang back a bit though.�

Ever since Mana flooded the world and the System came, monsters have been appearing all over Earth. There are two kinds: the ones that have evolved from Earth and the ones that have been �imported� into the world via the System. Occasionally those monsters are particularly nasty�a System-designated Boss. Or maybe they�re already Bosses and the System just tags them. Either way, they�re strong and tough and their presence means that particular monster group will populate faster than normal. Leave them alone long enough and you get monster swarms and they become a mainstay in a region, flooding outward. If you�re really unlucky, they find a location with a high Mana density and stay there, eventually creating a dungeon.

Since the entire world has been designated a Dungeon World and we�re getting the overflow of Mana from every other System-controlled world, it�s pretty much a given we�re going to get a ton of Dungeons and Bosses. The goal today is simple though�just like we used to manage the wildlife, we�re going to manage the monster population. Just like you kill the bulls to reduce the herd, we kill the Bosses. Of course, along the way we�ll be killing a ton of normal monsters too, but that�s the way it works.

Loping along far behind Lana�s group, I have a lot of time to think. The occasional monsters they miss and the ones that try to sneak up on them aren�t even a challenge. I have Ali patched into their communications channel as he floats alongside me, listening in just in case something important comes up. Mostly though, the two of us are along for the ride. If we�re real lucky, I won�t even need to get involved.

An hour later, I come to a stop as Lana�s group hits the boundary of their target�s area. I pull up my minimap, focusing on the green dots.

Knight Beetle (Level 29)

HP: 180/180

Ali pulls up some information for me, flicking over the System window. As I read the monster information, I relax. Each beetle is purple and gray, about two and a half feet in length and a foot tall, with armored carapaces that give them their name. Tough and they have a tendency to swarm. However, Lana�s group of five humans is augmented by her three oversized huskies and a mutated fox. While Lana might not go out as often, she certainly knows how to control her animals and the way the red dots of the low level enemies she fights keep disappearing on my minimap tell me they�re doing well.

I rub my neck, fingers hitting armor as I do so and I grimace. Armor is all nice and good but try giving yourself a massage while wearing it. I sigh, giving up on trying to get rid of the tension that way, and just pull out some chocolate to chew on while I wait. Ali�s head is tilted as he obviously listens to something before he grunts.

�John� how much do you like Jim?�

�What�s wrong?� I look for where Jim should be and realize he�s only a few kilometers away.

�Nothing yet, but I don�t think his group can deal with what he�s going to be fighting,� Ali says. �So we going?�

I hesitate, looking back at where Lana fights. She hasn�t hit the Boss yet and those things can change the flow of a battle. On the other hand� I bite my lip, twisting to where Jim�s Boss marker is and take off running. I hope I�m doing the right thing.

�What�s so bad Jim can�t handle?� I ask as I pound through the dirt, the powered armor covering the ground at a good pace. I shatter rock and the occasional fallen tree, knowing that I don�t have a lot of time. His Boss wasn�t that much farther out than Lana�s. Still, Jim�s a big boy�he�s the most senior of the City�s Hunters and a tough old coot.

�Lightning Squirrels.� Ali floats alongside me with ease as I activate Thousand Steps, a skill that lets me move faster. �They�re mutations of your ground squirrels. Individually, they�re really low level. However, they swarm. Each of them feeds off the other and there�s a lot more of them than Minion knows about.�

Even as we talk, my map updates with little gray dots. Low level indeed. I watch as the dots disappear in front of the friendly blue dots of Jim�s group. No surprise that they�re taking them out at range�his entire group is composed of rifle users. Unfortunately, what they can�t see is the swarm of gray dots that have begun to converge on them.

As the swarm closes in, I spot a blue dot flicker and disappear. I grit my teeth as the blue dots pull back in a somewhat orderly fashion, but they can�t keep ahead. I can see flashes of electricity with my eyes now. The never-ending arcs have lit the undergrowth on fire. Beam weaponry stabs out from the embattled group, along with the crack of projectile fire, each shot killing individual Squirrels. There�s even the occasional explosion, but that doesn�t really seem to change my map.

I�ve opened fire myself, keeping to normal projectiles as I unload on the Squirrels. Each shot disintegrates a small creature, turning it into red mist, and I even occasionally manage to get more than one with a shot.

�This isn�t working!� I yell, bouncing forward.

The occasional lightning arc at this distance feels like a static electricity discharge through the armor, but we�re going right into the center of the swarm and I know it�s going to get worse. I draw a deep breath, letting the shooting and running go on autopilot as I reach into myself for my own link to the Elemental Affinity and push it out of me, letting it envelop me. When the next lightning strike hits, I use the Gift to reroute the arc around me and Sabre rather than through us. Once that�s established, it takes me a moment to cast my next spell. Greater Regeneration increases my natural healing rate so that I can deal with the bleed-through. A thought lets me review the damage I�m receiving from each blast.

-13 HP (78% resisted)

�I�ve got a plan,� Ali shouts as I keep firing. �Just follow the bouncing ball!�

I snarl, running ahead and following the bouncing ball that appears in my display as I keep shooting. Occasionally my path intersects an unlucky squirrel and I either stab or stomp it. Electricity keeps building around me and we�re almost constantly wreathed in lightning now. Ali isn�t speaking, his face set in grim concentration as he floats alongside me. My jaw hurts from clenching it so tight as the lightning shudders through me even as it slowly drives my health down. A slow ticking down in the corner of my vision tells me Sabre�s not doing great either.

�Okay, boy-o. Grab me when you reach me and lend me your Mana and strength!� Ali says as he darts ahead, right to where the bouncing ball lands. He appears for a second, his hands raised as the lightning flows through him.

I extend my sense, my Affinity, and I see what Ali�s doing. Everything that hits him, he attaches a thread to, sliding it into the bodies of the squirrels. I place a hand on Ali�s and make the connection, feeling the lightning rip through me and pull Mana alongside the flow.

Pain fills my world, consuming me, and all I can do is go along for the ride. Muscles clench and spasm, my heart beats erratically, and I�m pretty sure I void my bowels at some point, but I keep holding on to Ali, refusing to let go. Pain, anger, and stubbornness�linchpins of my life.

A part of me watches as Ali threads all of it together, faster and faster until everything around is attached to him. Ali snarls, twisting with his hands, and I feel the change as the threads of Mana he has connected via the lightning tug on the Squirrels. It�s just a little, a small alteration in their atoms, but at the speed of well, light, the change happens. Electrons slip free, loosened from their moorings. A small change to each atom multiplied thousands, millions of times.

The lightning explodes. Lightning Squirrels are no longer able to contain and direct the overflow, so it heats them up�heats us up�and I know I�m screaming. One second we�re in the middle of a maelstrom, and the next, it disappears. Stray arcs jump and skip all around us, the ground molten glass. I stumble away, brute forcing Sabre to move because it�s still rerouting from all the damage. I fall on my face on smoking, ashen ground as Ali slowly floats down, his eyes sparkling.

�What a rush!� Ali says, holding up a hand and waggling olive-colored fingers that dance with electricity. �Woah! That�s a ton of notifications�wait one second!�

I stare into the sky, my muscles twitching occasionally from the after-effects. Eventually, I reach out with one of my Shop-purchased Skills and dump Sabre directly into my inventory. Quite a useful Skill to have, being able to put anything that the System registers directly into my inventory just by being in contact with it. My body drops onto the scorched earth and I groan, rolling up as the heat cuts through my skin-tight armored coveralls. I don�t even want to know how much it�s going to cost to fix Sabre. The remains of Jim�s party, with an added golden-brown Minotaur, stumble over, staring at the smoking squirrel corpses around me, their eyes wide.

I look around for a moment, taking in the smoking grass, the occasional glassy spot, and the hundreds of corpses, as well as the occasional burning trees, and realize I�m having one of those post-apocalyptic moments in real life. Hell, I can�t even be blamed for this one.

�John?� Jim, the big First Nation Elder, stammers as he limps up to me.

�Yeah?� I look at Ali, who continues to float, muttering to himself. �I thought you might need some help.�

�Shit, you got that right.� Jim�s voice rises and falls as he tries to stay calm. �It was supposed to be a relatively easy kill, just a bunch of ground squirrels. I lost half my men��

�Sorry.� I looked around then sighed. �That�s a hell of a lot of looting.�

The group jerkily nods, each of them moving to their respective glowing corpses. Lovely System, only allowing us to loot our own kills. At least if you aren�t in a party and I never did formally join theirs. Not that I really want to share � it�s going to be expensive enough fixing Sabre.

I start looting after a few minutes, when I can handle standing up, after eying Lana�s group in the map. Seems like they survived without me. A short while later, Ali finally perks up and waves, flicking a series of System windows to me.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 22 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 3 Free Attribute Points and 4 Class Skills to distribute.

Resistance Improved: Electricity +10% (50% Total)

Well, that was interesting. I�m grateful I don�t have to wade through all the text about how many monsters I killed. Looking at Ali, I point at the bodies while I pull up my information to take a closer look at my Status. I can hear him muttering about being given the scut work as he does the looting for me but I ignore him. If he didn�t complain, I�d be worried he was sick. Can Spirits get sick?

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1070

Stamina

1070

Mana

840

Mana Regeneration

70 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

102

Constitution

107

Perception

Intelligence

Willpower

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Blade

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Tinder

Enhanced Lightning Strike

I nod slightly, glancing over the basic screen. Got to let Ali know to add a section about Resistances to this, but it looks a heck of a lot neater without my Skills. They were cluttering it up, and like Ali said, what�s the point of listing them? I can either do it or not.

Mental note�time to purchase another area effect spell that isn�t Lightning. Maybe a Fireball or something like that, though maybe there�s a Skill. Then again, all the really useful Skills are expensive. Not that Spells aren�t either, but didn�t I come along just to watch out for Lana? How the hell did I end up in this situation again?

I glare at Ali who, at least, is helping with the looting and storage of bodies. This is going to take forever, but every single Credit counts.

Chapter 5

It takes me hours to get everything collected and shoved away. Hours of collecting dead bodies and scanning the map to ensure the others are fine. Only once does Ali stop, frowning before he shakes his head. He lets me know, later, that it was just the reserve team being called out to help another group with a larger monster mob than expected. Since the initial party had scouted it out before engaging, it all went pretty smoothly.

By the time I get back, most of the groups have already reported in and the day is coming to an end. Walking without power armor sucks, but at least that gives me time to kill more monsters. I drop Sabre off with Xev, who promises to give me the estimate later. The way Xev says it, I make sure to head to the Shop and the butchers immediately. A few hundred Squirrel corpses and fur and assorted loot drops later, I might have enough for a few days of meals. Gods, that sucked.

As I exit the Shop, I find a golden yellow Yerick waiting for me, the same one that was in Jim�s unfortunate team. Standing just under nine feet tall, he wears a bulky armored vest along with a simple, reinforced jumpsuit. Slung over his shoulder is a rifle, and another pistol is strapped to his legs. A series of grenades hang off his belt. Other than the lack of a melee weapon, it�s a pretty typical setup for the Yerick from what I can see.

Aron Hauser (Level 38 Axe Brother)

HP: 1240 / 1240

�Monster�s Bane Lee,� he greets me, bowing slightly. �I am Aron Hauser. I wish to thank you for your aid this day.�

�Not at all.� I flash him a grin then tilt my head. �Jim and the rest okay?�

�Elder Calbery is speaking with Councilor Roth. He requested I pass on his thanks as well.�

�You�re welcome.� I grunt, walking past him.

Aron just nods slightly, watching me stomp off. Thanks. Har. Thanks doesn�t pay my bill with Xev or get me a new bike. Stomping back to the city, I glare around me, headed back to my house.

Grumbling to myself, I find myself staring at my house. No Sabre, not enough Credits to fix her up properly, and no transportation means I�m stuck in Whitehorse for the next few weeks. As much as I love the mecha, getting her fixed is becoming a real drain on my resources each time she gets damaged.

�John! Everything okay?� Richard asks, watching me and the floating, silent Ali.

�Fine. Just fine,� I snarl, not bothering to stop as I head downstairs.

I shut the door, forcing myself not to slam it, before I flop onto my bed. Why the hell did I help them? I glare at the ceiling. Every time I think I�ve contained one problem�the Yerick, the Hakarta, my anger�something else crops up and bites me in the ass.

�Morning, John,� Lana says as I crawl up the stairs the next day.

Mikito and Richard nod to me, tension filling the room. When I choked Minion in public, it was Mikito and Richard who stopped me, rather forcefully. Let�s just say I wasn�t exactly in a listening mood. Since then, I�ve been staying away, hiding out in the fort while they lived in my house. I needed time to sort out my brain, my emotions. While we�ve interacted in passing since then, things just haven�t been the same.

�Where�s Rachel?� I tilt my head as I look around the kitchen.

�She, well� she�s with the Brothers of the Wolf,� Richard answers.

Mikito nods, adding another piece of fried fish to her bowl of rice. I sigh and take a seat at the setting that has been laid for me. I nod in thanks as Lana drops a stack of pancakes on my plate before taking a seat herself.

Lana smiles slightly, stretching and making my gaze shift to her ample rack before she continues. �I heard you had some trouble yesterday.�

�Not me. Jim,� I reply around a mouthful.

�Really? I heard you had to walk home,� Lana replies, her face perfectly serene.

�Sabre was damaged.� My eyes narrow as I dump more maple syrup on the pancakes. I could almost feel bad about how well we eat compared to the general population, but we do pay for this food ourselves. Most of us spend our days working to get additional food and Credits for the city�so spending our own money on luxuries shouldn�t feel wrong, right? Right.

�Mmmm� so, trouble.� Lana sips on juice before she continues. �And someone was worried about me.�

I sigh, finally catching on. �All this was to say �I told you so�?�

Lana smiles innocently, slowly cutting apart her own pancake. �I never said those words.�

�Uh huh.� I grunt, and a part of me wants to point out she�d have been in as much trouble as Jim was if she had been the one fighting the Lightning Squirrels. A wiser part of me makes me focus on my own breakfast. Some things, you just don�t say.

As I chew my next bite, I see Mikito smiling slightly while Richard pays way too much attention to Shadow. I sigh, deciding to not engage further as Lana finishes her breakfast.

As I finally finish eating, Ali pops into existence next to me. �So, boy-o, where to next?�

�John?� Richard butts in, leaning forward. �We could use your help. There�s a monster lair we�d like to clear out.�

I grunt and shake my head. �No. I�ll be fine.�

Mikito opens her mouth then shuts it, staring at me before she sighs and grabs her naginata. Richard nods as well, following Mikito out. I watch them leave, a part of me wondering if they�re going to try to take on a lair all by themselves.

�You going to cold-shoulder them forever?� Lana asks as she puts the plates away, leaning against the counter.

�What?�

�You know what.� She points at me. �You need a ride and you�re refusing to go with them? For what? Your pride?�

�I�d rather hunt by myself,� I mutter, not meeting her eyes. �They�re doing well enough without me. I like hunting alone.�

Lana uncrosses her arms, shaking her head. �Well enough? Rachel left because of you. Richard and Mikito have been grabbing whoever is free whenever they can, working what they can, when they can. They aren�t leveling up that well because of that.� I keep staring at my empty plate and Lana sighs, shaking her head. �You could just admit you�re still pissed at them you know.�

�I�m not,� I protest, looking at her again, my anger flaring.

�Really?� Lana crosses her arms, staring at me before shaking her head. �Fine. You stubborn idiot.�

�I am not.� I watch her leave, and I sigh. At some point, there�s a conversation we have to have. But I think we both know it�s one that can�t be taken back. I shake my head, dismissing the thought, and I look at Ali. �I�m not being stubborn. I like hunting alone.�

�Uh huh. Right. Sure.� Ali nods. �Let�s head south. Records indicate that it hasn�t been swept in a few weeks. If we move fast, we should be able to break out into a higher-level zone too.�

�Gotcha.�

The first couple of hours are easy. I turn on Thousand Steps the moment I break into the tree line at the back of the house, moving from one blip to the next. None of the monsters are hard; in fact, they�re so easy it�s trivial. Alpine forest filled with aspen, pine, and fir has mutated under the influence of Mana. Some just grew stronger and harder. Other trees grew new defenses�a silvery sheen on one, spikes on another, pollen that�s acidic or toxic, fruits that are now edible. I dodge the dangers I know of, breathe deeply when I can, and make note of new changes absently. The forest changes, just like the rest of the Territory, and all that we can do is wait for everything to settle and change with it.

Moving in a zig-zag pattern, I end up spending more time than I�d prefer in the lower level zone around Whitehorse. I�ll have to ask Ali to run the numbers later and see if it�s worth the time compared to what I can get dealing with higher-level monsters.

Monster zones aren�t particularly steady, especially in a burgeoning Dungeon World. They�re more a guide than a rule, which is why when I hit the Level 30+ zone, I slow down. You never know when you�ll run into a truly nasty monster out here, and without Sabre, I�m not entirely confident I can take on anything above Level 50 without getting seriously hurt. Sure, we heal after a few minutes, but you try having your guts torn out repeatedly and tell me you want to sign up for it on an on-going basis.

Without Sabre, all I�ve got for protection is a simple armored coveralls that might soak up incidental damage but not much else. That means that when I fight, I can�t just bullrush into danger and let the mecha soak up the damage while I hammer away at the monsters. Instead, I have to fight like Mikito�working on positions, dodging, and striking only when it�s safe to do so. It slows down fights and forces me to use a lot more Mana to heal when I inevitably get hit. Worst, since I�m fighting alone, I can�t afford to let my Mana drain completely in case I run into something nasty, so I end up doing more rest stops.

Funny thing is that the drop in mobility is the least of my concerns. Sure, in mecha mode I could run through the forest at a slightly higher speed due to the increased attributes, but it�s not that much different these days. When I first bought the personal assault vehicle, the boost in attributes by itself made the purchase well worth it. At that time, it added anywhere from a third to half again to my physical stats, making me stronger and faster when I desperately needed every edge I could get. These days, the boost is much less, though even a ten percent increase is nothing to sneeze at. And while in bike mode, I can cover a lot more ground a lot faster. I long ago stopped working easily accessible hiking trails, preferring to head into the untamed wilderness. Lots more monsters out there since there are fewer hunters.

In the end, all my concerns about dangerous monsters are for nothing. I don�t run into anything out of my level, and while today�s hunt is slower than previous ones, I don�t run into anything that gives me too much trouble. I admit, it�s a bit of a cheat when you can sense and track monsters before they can see you, especially when you can take them out at range.

When I get back, it�s around four in the afternoon and the only reason I�ve called it a day is because I�m out of space. I have trouble just leaving corpses around and not dragging the bodies back for processing. It�s not as if the many, many, many new bugs, pests, and other vermin don�t clean up those bodies within days, but just leaving the bodies seems wasteful. It�s not an entirely rational viewpoint since the Credits I gain from doing so won�t make a dent, but there it is.

In Whitehorse, I head straight to the butchering yard, then I go to the Shop to sell my System Loot. As I exit the Shop, I find myself overtaken by a man dressed in clothing two sizes too large. The man is hunched over, his fists curled up and his face scrunched as he strides right past me. I have to jerk to a stop so that I don�t run him over, and I almost call out to berate him when something makes me stop. I frown, staring after him as a sixth sense nags at me. Something. Something is wrong and I work on pinning what it is down.

I look closer as he walks right down the street to a new store finally realizing what it is. His right hand�it�s larger than his left because it�s curled up around a grenade.

I shout at him, but he�s already throwing the grenade into the store, screaming, �I warned you!�

I flick on a Thousand Steps as I sprint toward him, my head turning to see who is within the store. I see the storekeeper, and without thought, I activate my other Skill�Two are One. She�s staring with a dumbfounded expression when the grenade explodes, cutting off my line of sight in an explosion of flame and glass. My body feels as though it�s being roasted alive in a sudden flash of heat that cuts right through my coveralls before the explosion itself reaches me, throwing me back.

I have to pick myself off the ground, my pain already receding. The attacker is rolling on the ground from the backblast, and the storekeeper, despite my Two are One skill, is dead. I force myself to take in the injured who were caught in the explosion, and I stagger over to the first injured body I can reach, casting my Minor Healing Spell.

It takes a surprisingly short time for things to calm down. A nearby mage throws a raincloud into the burning store while her neighbors fix the walls leading to their stores by purchasing upgrades in the Shop itself. Bodies are either healed by spells or mend on their own, and the survivors stagger away. The attacker is hustled off into Roxley�s domain by a pair of silver-and-gray-clad guards. Fred Curteneau, our erstwhile mayor, pops out of the Council building to talk to people for a few minutes, walking around and glad-handing people with that big, oily smile of his. Somehow, people find it comforting. They set to work sweeping up the mess of glass and steel from the road, then it�s over. At least for most people.

�Amelia?� I walk over as one of the guards bags the storekeeper�s body under her directions.

�John.� The ex-constable nods to me, a hand on a wide hip. She�s wearing her RCMP uniform again, though it looks to have been let out to accommodate growth in her shoulders. Amelia�s voice is cool and professional, but there�s a tightness in her eyes. I don�t envy her. She�s the only human in Roxley�s guard and as such, takes all the flack that we throw at him on her shoulders.

�What the hell happened?� I look into the remains of the store, shaking my head.

She purses her lips, shaking it after a moment. �I cannot comment on an on-going investigation.�

�What investigation? I saw it. A whole group of us saw him throw the grenade. He murdered her!� I snap, temper flaring.

�John, I can�t talk about it,� she snaps, and Vir materializes at my side.

The entire �looming to intimidate� thing never really worked on me, not even pre-System when I was a good four inches shorter than most Westerners. Now that we�re nearly the same height, it really doesn�t work. I return the black-skinned, white-haired dark Elf�s glare.

Amelia snaps, �There are rules, damn it. I know all of you people think there aren�t, but the rules are in place for a reason.�

�All of us people?� I snarl, my hand clenching. Sure, ever since I got the genome treatment I look more Keanu Reeves than Jet Li, but that doesn�t mean that I�ve forgotten the barbs and screamed insults over the course of my life. Not that I�ve forgotten being told to go home to China, even if I grew up in Vancouver.

�Hunters,� Amelia says, pointing a finger at me. �All of you, walking around with your weapons and powers, thinking you�ve got it all figured out. There are rules, and I�ll be damned if I�m bending them to just satisfy your curiosity.�

�Give it up, boy-o, she�s got a job to do,� Ali interjects.

I grit my teeth and look between the pair before finally jerkily nodding acceptance. What can I do? Beat them up for not answering my question? I walk away, snarling to myself, questions unanswered. What the hell was that all about?

�He wanted his store back,� Lana fills me in later that evening. I caught her in the backyard, playing with her furry friends, and prodded her for information while children laughed and played in the living room. �His family owned the store pre-System. Then, well, Holly bought the store from the System and set up shop. He wanted her out, said she didn�t have the right to it. She refused. The guards had been called in before and sided with her��

�And he killed her for that?� I mutter.

Lana snorts, burying her face in the dog. �You tried to kill Eric.�

Rufus whines slightly, feeling Lana�s tension, and the puppy turns in her hands to lick at her face.

�I� I might have,� I admit, shaking my head slowly. I had my reasons, but so had he probably. We�re all under so much stress, and everything that we knew is gone. �Shit.�

�Yes,� Lana replies and hugs Rufus. She lets the silence linger as I stew on the parallels. In the end, she speaks again, her voice low. �It�s not the only case like this. Not like this, like this, but similar. People moving into houses that aren�t theirs. People taking cars from lots and having them fixed up. The workers at the brewery getting upset because we don�t hire them because we don�t need them.�

�I didn�t know it was that bad.�

�Bad? That�s the easy stuff. Who owns what, that�s easy!� She laughs, slightly hysterically. �We have kids who don�t have parents, parents who don�t have kids. We have fathers who won�t pay or help take care of their kids. We�ve got assholes who decide that because they�ve got combat classes, they�re important now. They start throwing their weight around, acting like big shots. And because everyone�everyone�who is important is out hunting, they are big shots.

�You know why we opened the brewery? Do you?� She twists her hand slightly, pulling out a small ampule that she hands to me. �Aarak Blood. The best high in the System for us humans. Better than meth supposedly. We had people buying this and giving it out because there was no more alcohol. And they took it because they needed something to get their minds off this life. So instead we opened up the brewery and let them get drunk. That was a fun conversation to have with Jim.�

�What�s Roxley doing about all this?� I say, frowning.

�Roxley? Nothing. He�s letting us humans sort out human problems, or so says Vir. Except when someone gets his guards involved. And then the troublemakers end up getting fined. Fined!� She shakes her head. �It�s as if everything is about Credits to him.�

I shake my head, trying to understand why Roxley would do that. It didn�t mesh with the man I remembered. Not knowing what else to say, I murmur, �Sorry.�

�No, I am. You don�t need this. It�s not your job, not your thing, right?� Lana rubs her face, wiping away the tears.

�Lana��

�It�s okay. This isn�t your city. It isn�t your problem. Just� thank you for listening.� She stands, pulling Rufus with her as she walks away.

I open my mouth then shut it again, watching her leave. She�s right�I left. I purposely chose not to get involved, not to be part of this. Hell, I�m playing both sides of the equation with the Hakarta just to see what the hell might happen. It was a choice, so now I don�t get to bitch about it.

�Ali?� I stare into the distance, absently stroking one of the huskies, who has taken to lying next to me.

�Yeah, boy-o?�

�Is it all like this?�

�Mmmm� you mean the other cities?� He shakes his head, holding up a hand. �No. You guys are lucky. For definitions of luck. Most places don�t have enough people to have a functioning government, never mind worrying about things like who owns what. The big cities were hit harder than anyone else. No one got Perks or any other bonuses, so they had no way to fight back. They also got a slew of higher-level monsters. And you know that monsters level up too? Yeah, guess what killing hundreds, thousands of humans did to even low-level monsters.

�You guys were lucky Roxley came along and brought his guards. Lucky that the System decided to put a Shop right here. You might be losing a few people here and there, but it�s a hell of a lot better than the tens or hundreds you have.�

I grimace, nodding slowly. �Are we the only big organized group left?�

�Get over yourself, will you? Of course not.� Ali rolls his eyes. �There were a few armies that were out in the field, training or fighting with their weapons fully loaded. There are towns that have managed to survive and hold on, like Carcross. And Roxley isn�t unique either. Quite a few others jumped on the chance to buy up small towns and villages and play lord.

�Truth is, take a city like New York, add all the survivors together, and you�d still have a bigger population than you have here. Just that, so far, they�re scattered. Give them a bit of time and you guys will just be another small, remote group.�

I grunt, smiling slightly. That�s good. That�s very good. �Do you have a number?�

�Of?�

�Survivors.�

�Twelve percent or so.� I flinch, and Ali sighs. �Some places, some cities, they weren�t that lucky when the System hit. Santiago disappeared when an Air Elemental sucked up all the Mana and air in the region. Bangalore had a swarm of Liminir Locusts, flesh-eating insects that get into everything. New Orleans was flooded when a Leviathan surfaced nearby and got shot at by the navy. As I said, you got lucky.�

I twitch, eyes going glassy as I imagine what it�d be like in any of those cities. Gods. �Lucky.�

Chapter 6

I hold up the claw I took from a mutated wolverine and another from a Crilik shifter, comparing them and my soulbound sword laid out before me. I extend my senses to feel the Mana they contain, staring at them in silence. I�ve been doing this for the last few hours and I can finally, finally sense the differences, the way the Mana changes.

I slowly put down the Crilik shifter�s claw and pick up a discarded armor plate from Sabre, one that had a hole punched through it earlier. Gently, I feel for the Mana that imbues it, then I bring the wolverine claw into contact.

There. Right there. Just at the edges of my senses, where the two make contact, I can feel the way the claw�s Mana and the armor�s interact, pushing against one another instead of melding. I shove harder, feeling the minute changes until the claw cracks, splintering under the pressure. I grunt, discarding the broken claw and picking up the shifters.

Again, I work slowly, adding pressure, but almost immediately, I can feel the difference. The Crilik shifter�s claw has a significantly denser Mana signature, and as I press it into the armor, it punches a hole almost immediately, the denser Mana signature pushing against the weaker signature in the armor.

At the same time, I feel the electromagnetic force of the armor change. Mana that is absorbed by the claw directly weakens the bonds of the armor, making it easier for the claw to punch through. When I repeat the experiment with my sword, it slides through the armor the easiest, shaving off bits with almost no effort.

When I�m finally done, I stand up and stretch out of pure habit. I hate to say it, but Manbun�Aiden�had a point. It�s all about perception, and that damn hipster/hippy wannabe has a better idea of it than anyone else in the city. Everyone, everything around us is permeated with Mana. The higher the level of a creature or thing, the higher the density of Mana it carries. We all interact with Mana regularly, shaping it to our wills even when we aren�t actively thinking about it. It�s why we don�t break doorknobs with a touch, why a giant can walk across a wooden bridge that isn�t rated for its weight, or why when I run, I can gain the speeds I do without tearing giant divots in the ground.

We reshape the Mana around us and use it to make the world fit our preconceived notions. The Classes and Skills we use are just a shortcut that the System offers, a set of buttons for the monkeys to press to make Mana work for them�but if you want, if you put the work in, you can directly influence Mana itself. That�s what most Class-enabled, non-affinity mages do, even if they don�t realize it. The ones with an elemental affinity manipulate the element itself instead, which is a whole different can of worms. I haven�t figured that one out yet properly, though I�m making slow gains.

Grinning, I stretch and pull up my notifications, which I�ve had minimized till now.

Skill Increase

Mana Manipulation Level 4!

Skill Acquired

Mana Sense (Level 1)

The ability to sense Mana in people and objects is extremely important for mages and Mana users. Current range is limited to touch and will expand on training.

Quest Update�the System

You�ve taken another step in understanding the secrets of the System by expanding on your ability to sense Mana.

Reward: +500 XP

All right, enough lounging about staring at my abilities. Even if the Hakarta aren�t expecting me to provide anything new anytime soon, I�m going to have to come up with something. I�m not entirely sure �humans are being humans and hurting one another� is going to cut it. At the very least, I should be out hunting.

Not that I�m going to be hunting, at least not today. Jogging over the bridge that connects the suburb of Riverdale to Whitehorse, I glance at the clock in my peripheral vision and put on a little burst of speed. I�m late. Not that I�ve ever seen them leave on time, but it�s still unprofessional.

Unsurprisingly, when I get to Main Street, the trucks and cars that make up the caravan to Carcross is still getting itself put together. I�m not the only one who�s late. Jason spots me almost immediately, waving me to the front, and I jog over to him, nodding a greeting.

�You can relax, they�re still in the meeting.� Jason waves toward the Elijah Smith Building that the remainder of our local government has moved into. The squat, gray building stares onto Main Street itself, opposite the towering monstrosity that makes up the System-designated City Center and Roxley�s offices.

�Morning, squirt,� Ali greets Jason, who snorts.

�Morning, jumpsuit,� Jason retorts then offers me a piece of dried fruit.

Taking the fruit, I take a seat next to the teenager. �You got kicked out?�

�Never invited.� Jason rolls his eyes. �I�m too young to be of use in the negotiations. It�s fine for me to fight monsters, train the adults, and walk the walls, but sit in a negotiation about our city? Too young!�

�Isn�t that the way,� I sympathize, glancing back at the building. �What were you guys negotiating anyway? I never got the full story.�

�Huh,� Jason says. �As I understand it, Whitehorse wants us to stop taking in so many immigrants. Particularly their crafters. They�ve also been pretty unhappy with the loot we�re purchasing from their hunters direct. Or the goods we�re bringing in for resale.�

I frown, noting how it�s all things that Whitehorse wants. �What do you get for this?�

�Food. Credits. More security.� Jason shrugs. �Whitehorse has an actual working farm, something we don�t. We�re still importing a bunch of food to keep everyone fed, so getting a surplus would be good. And we wouldn�t mind more hunters working the area around Carcross. We�ve still got to keep half of our hunters on the wall.�

I nod slightly, sighing. �You guys still intent on sticking it out?�

�Uh huh.� Jason lowers his voice, murmuring, �I don�t get how you people live here without a safe zone. At least when I�m home, I know I�m safe. I keep looking over my shoulder for trouble when I�m in Whitehorse.�

I chuckle, shaking my head. �It�s not so bad. The guards are always dispatched to potential spawns before they actually come through, so we just have to worry about the spontaneous evolutions.�

�Still, gives me the creeps,� Jason replies. �Anyway, they�ve been talking about it for the last few days, but they should have been done already. I guess there�s always something new.�

�Old. Something old in this case,� Elder Andrea Badger replies, stomping forward. The old First Nation�s lady and titular Mayor of Carcross walks up to us, greeting Ali and me with a smile. �Bureaucracy kept us up. However, the forms are all signed now.�

Jason shrugs before jumping up and waving to everyone. Once he gets their attention, he points at the cars before clambering into his car without waiting for the others. Behind him, the constable rolls his eyes, calling out orders to get everyone moving. I open the door for the elder before heading to my seat in the front. Time to babysit the children.

The trip back is relatively uneventful. More monsters than normal�six groups to be exact, but Jason, Mike, and I tear through them like hot knife through butter. Gadsby still likes getting in close and pounding on them with his truncheon, though he seems to have picked up an upgrade that fires bolts of pure Mana into bigger and nastier monsters. Jason keeps things simple, casting bolts of plasma and ice to rip holes into monsters. Myself? I switch tactics, of course�beam rifle for soft, simple targets and the sword for harder things.

I�m not entirely sure why they even bothered to hire me�the pair of them are more than enough for the monsters we meet, and the additional hunters aren�t exactly sitting around doing crossword puzzles. Unfortunately, I�m not seated next to the elder or else I�d ask her why they bothered.

When we roll into the city, I get a quick notification that the quest is completed. Carcross hasn�t changed much since I last came here�the improvised wall is now less improvised and an actual constructed wall with watchtowers and automated sensors set up throughout. I know the wall is just the most visible of the town�s defenses�multiple shield defenses are active and ready, protecting against ground and air infiltration. There are numerous pits and even a few automated gun stands, all waiting to be activated. In fact, I�d say Carcross is better defended than Whitehorse. They certainly have more firepower packed in than we do.

Every single-story building in Carcross is System-enabled by now, and the elder waves goodbye to me before heading for the Cultural Center and headquarters. Gadsby follows her to report in, and Jason gets dragged away by a cute blonde almost immediately, leaving me alone among strangers. Except the citizens of Carcross aren�t exactly strangers, not anymore. A fact that I�m reminded of as I�m dragged into the mess hall for a late lunch.

As Ali and I sit around, drinking and eating and chatting with the locals, I wonder if this is Andrea�s play. Reminding me that the people of Carcross are still here, still around, still friends. I laugh at a joke as I finish off my latest bowl of stew and glance at Ali then at the time. Well, it�s only three o�clock and Jason did say they had a problem with monsters around the city. No reason not to do a little hunting out here.

Waving goodbye to the group and declining offers of help, I get Ali to show me the latest known monster groups on the map. Time to go kill something. I�ll head back to Whitehorse tomorrow.

Life has fallen into a routine since my talk with Lana�I wake up, I meditate, I train for a few hours, sometimes by myself, sometimes with Mikito or Richard and his pets. Training together, we�re slowly breaking down that wall we put up between us. It�s not perfect, but it�s better than nothing and holding a grudge over the fact that I nearly killed Minion is just silly.

After training, it�s always hunting, working to keep the monster population down and gain further experience and Credits to fix Sabre. Putting the mecha back together�or better than it was�is expensive. Without Sabre, I spend a portion of each day just getting to appropriately leveled locations, but at least I�m getting a decent Skill in running. I keep going till late at night or my Altered Space is filled, whichever comes first, then I head into Whitehorse and do a quick dump. If it�s still early enough, I�m out again to hunt.

Being in Whitehorse, I start seeing the things Lana spoke of and some that she didn�t. The bulletin board of the missing always seems to have just a few new faces as people disappear into the woods. Or the corpses of those who don�t even bother going that far, leaving their bodies in the shelters for others to dispose of. People who have just given up, who can no longer handle this new world.

Then there�s the lazy, the incompetent, and the cheats who refuse to help out, living off the largesse of everyone else. I see the occasional fist fights, the shouting matches that Amelia and the other guards have to put a stop to. No surprise there�s more than a little resentment over the lack of help.

The City Council has even gone as far as creating their own court system, overseen by one over-worked ex-judge. He does his best to mediate issues among the population. He tackles everything from ownership and living arrangements, custody battles between families, to figuring out foster care situations for those who need it. Once in a while, he even has to deal with real crimes�theft, a few rapes, beatings, and shakedowns that escape the attention of Roxley�s guards or are just never brought to their attention.

Most of all, worst of all, is the way those with combat classes and everyone else are segregating into the haves and have-nots. The tensions just get worse and worse as the stores that open cater mostly to the combat classers. No big surprise, they�re the only ones with any Credit. Everyone else is busy saving up to buy their own place to live, to get a little bit more food or other necessities. That doesn�t stop people from resenting the combat classers or their fortune.

There�s nothing I can do about it. Not really. So I just go out and do my thing�fighting and killing and attempting to save enough Credits to finally fix up Sabre. Which means killing this ugly bastard.

Mountain Troll (Level 52)

HP: 3580/3580

This monster is over ten feet tall, rocky gray, and covered with warts. An extra-long nose and a hunched back, along with a rocky club, complete the ensemble. After hunting them for the last few days, I now know more about Troll physiology than I ever want to �including why they�re so angry all the time. I�d be angry too if I was that lacking in that department.

My first shot takes it in the right knee, the second its left. I keep crouched after crippling the creature, my beam rifle blasting open and searing wounds closed as I get to work killing it. The monster is tough though, its resistances to energy significantly reducing the damage I�m dishing out, and its natural regeneration fixes my initial onslaught.

As the troll lurches toward me on all fours, it picks up real speed and I flick the rifle back into my inventory. Hands free, I cast my Improved Mana Dart spell, creating four glowing blue darts that shoot forward as I flick my hand at the creature. I grin wolfishly as the Troll staggers, its resistances utterly useless against the Mana Darts.

I summon another four and repeat the process, doing so two more times before I charge to meet it face to face. As we close, I use Blade Strike to catch the monster before he can reach me, then I duck beneath the first swing, slicing upward with my sword and shearing through muscle. I spin around as we cross each other�s path, laying its back open before the Troll can turn, then I kick it away from me. Now with enough space, I focus on Cleave and swing down with full force, the sword picking up a red-and-blue glow that sheathes the blade. The cut takes the creature straight on, opening it from shoulder to hip. Before it can recover, I swing again and trigger Cleave once more, leaving a giant bloody X on the Troll�s body.

It�s not enough to kill it though, and the Troll swings its club, using the momentum from my attack to smash into my leg. Only a last-minute move keeps my knee from shattering, but I end up on the ground, kicking up dirt as I slide a good ten feet. I bite my lip, a rush of pure adrenaline shooting through my body. Gods, but I love fighting.

When the Troll closes in on me and starts its swing down, I call forth my sword and make sure it�s right where the Troll�s arm will be, letting it impale itself on my sword. I leave the blade in its arm, kicking on its knee to push myself away and give me momentum. I roll to my feet just before I charge it.

Our next clash is very different since I stop trying to overpower it, instead dancing around the creature. All those hours training and fighting has helped me develop an innate understanding of combat that the System download didn�t impart. I turn aside blows, dodge under or around them, and always, always chip away at its health. Whenever I have a moment, I throw another set of Mana Darts into its face. In the end, the Troll falls over, dead as can be.

Breathing hard, I chop the head off the monster just in case and kick the body once more. I loot it then dump the body back into my Altered Space before slowly stretching and waiting for the broken ribs to heal fully. Pain and adrenaline, my constant companions these days. I find myself grinning, knowing that this Troll finished the Quest I�ve been running for Sally. Seems like Troll Blood is in high-demand among alchemists.

In the distance, I see something white against the clear blue sky. As first I think it�s just a cloud, but something tells me to look closer.

Ali, drawn by my focused attention, follows my gaze then yelps. �Hide!�

I move, months of constant danger making me duck toward the nearest tree and shrink down as tight as I can get. When I�m as hidden as I�m going to get, I ask, �What�s wrong?�

�Dragon.�

�Shit.� I reach out mentally for the QSM before Ali growls at me.

�Don�t. It�ll attract his attention. They can see between dimensions.�

My eyes widen. That�s the first I�ve ever heard of something being able to do that naturally. I slowly poke my head around the corner as I hit the magnification in my helmet. The dragon jumps in size, pure white with an elongated neck and wings that triple its width. Above its head floats its status bar.

Dragon (Level ???)

HP: ???/???

�Ali? Shouldn�t it be a winter dragon or something?�

�That�s all the information I have, boy-o. Way too high level for me to extract information from the System.�

�What�s it doing here?� Hell, I knew we were in a high-level zone, but this area isn�t that bad�

�Best guess? It�s probably hunting. I doubt the Kluane Icefields are that populated yet.�

I wince, nodding slowly. It makes sense that the Icefields would have something truly nasty there�it was the largest icefield in the world outside of the poles. But does it have to go hunting while I�m around?

I curl down further and get ready to wait. At least it�s not likely to have seen me, being as far away as it is. It does remind me how big a gap there is, between the true Powers of this world and piddly little beginners like me.

Hours later, the dragon has gone and I�m jogging back from the east on the other side of the river, having decided to take the long way round just in case. I shake my head as I consider how easy it would be for the monsters to run into Riverdale itself. As a suburb of Whitehorse, there�s no wall, no good way to stop anyone from just walking in. It�s why there are checkpoints at the bridges and the roads entering the city. Still, if we ever got hit by a swarm, those who live in Riverdale would be in real trouble.

Crossing the bridge, I absently nod to the fishermen who line the path to Sally�s. At her shop, I find an attendant watching over the front, and when I make myself known, I�m ushered into the backroom where Sally keeps her workshop. It only takes a few seconds for the four-foot-tall Gnome to string up the entire Troll and plug in various tubes to begin the draining process. When that�s done, she flashes me a grin and I get my notification.

Quest Complete (Troll�s Blood)

Retrieve 40 Liters of Troll�s Blood for Sally

Rewards: 2 Tier II Health Regeneration Potions, 2 Tier II Mana Regeneration Potions, 2,000 XP

�Thank you. Any other requests?� I ask.

She snorts, shaking her head. �Not until you upgrade your herb lore, you big lug.� Sally waggles her finger at me, eyes twinkling. �I still don�t believe you brought back Jarsik Weed.�

�It looked exactly like what you asked for!� I protest.

�If you are blind and stupid, sure.�

I roll my eyes and admit defeat. Seriously, it looked exactly the same. Though truth be told, I�m okay not playing gardener. The one day I spent poking around looking for herbs for Sally was an utter waste of time. Nearly ninety percent of what I brought back was useless, which meant I didn�t even get halfway to completing her Quest. I could buy the skill in the Shop, but really, I�d rather just kill something. �Fine. Call me if you need anything killed.�

She grins, pushing me out. �Out, I got work to do!�

My next stop is the butchering yard, where I drop the last of my day�s earnings. As I make my way down the street afterward, I notice a commotion at the entrance to the city council�s offices. I push my way through the crowd, picking up scattered words. Luthien�s back.

I almost walk away when I hear my ex�s name, but after a moment�s hesitation, I push forward. I might not want to see her, but the Raven�s Circle was our highest leveled group before they left for Dawson. Something had happened on the trip there and what should have been a couple of days away had become weeks.

�Jim?� I catch the eye of the hunter as he glares at everyone milling around, his presence sufficient to keep most back.

The older First Nation gentleman�s face is lined even further than normal, his dark eyes filled with worry as he shifts, still clad in his hunting gear. It�s a mix of old and new, a simple one-piece nano-woven jumpsuit with armor plating at appropriate locations, covered by a gray hunting vest for additional weaponry and gear, and his favored rifle and knife at his side. Pretty standard fare for the combat classes these days.

�John,� the elder answers, and at my raised eyebrow, he beckons me over.

I see a few people glare at me, but I ignore it. It�s good to have a few favors owed. �Luthien�s back?�

�Yes.� Jim frowns at the group that surrounds us, waiting to hear something. He seems to debate saying more before he continues. �Seven people came back. Four strangers and three of the Circle.�

�Who?� I say softly, knowing that at least Nic is dead. His house stopped being a Safe Zone about three days after they left, which is when we knew for sure something had gone wrong.

�Luthien, Kevin, and Tim.� Before I can ask, he adds. �The other four, that�s all that�s left of Dawson.�

The words are like a punch to the gut of those who hear him. Those in the front of the group fall silent, only answering those behind after repeated requests. The words spread like wildfire, reactions wild and varied. Some nod, accepting what they probably feared. Others deny the words and get angry, while others break down crying.

Including the Circle, eleven people left to visit Dawson and see what good they could do. The Circle had asked for volunteers and some�the brave and the desperate�joined them. Eleven people left and only three of ours came back. My lips purse and Jim meets my gaze, obviously having done the math himself. This is the kind of trade-off we feared. Worst, we had lost two of our highest level fighters in this stupid expedition, all because the damn woman wanted to show off again.

As I draw in a deep breath, forcing down the anger, the door opens. I turn to look and spot a man I�ve never seen before stride out as if he owns it all. A good 6�4�, middle-aged with a strong jaw and a brown, crewcut hairstyle, he�s handsome in a �human� way, someone you�d see walking down the street rather than in the movies. Ali frowns slightly, twitching his hand as the man appears, and information blooms above his head.

Bill Cross (Level 46 Enforcer)

HP: 1400/1400

Interesting Class. Behind him, a familiar face. Luthien�my ex�walks behind him, just a little too close. Tall, thin, blond, and pretty with pointy ears, she strides out and I spot more than one admiring gaze roam over her body. I almost want to wave and shout �Run, run for your life,� but that�s a touch too dramatic. And petty. Luthien�s clad in tight leather pants and a corset-like armor piece that covers her upper body quite well.

Luthien Celbrindal (Level 38 Sorceress)

HP: 540/540

My eyes narrow, lips tightening as I scan the rest of the group as they come out. People make way, pushing back to let the newcomers exit while Jim and I are forgotten. The entire group has incredibly high levels, all in the high 30s or low 40s. As Kevin and Tim bring up the back of the line, I can�t help but notice their slumped shoulders, tight lips, and hangdog expressions, along with the slight hesitation in their steps. There�s a distance between Kevin and Luthien that wasn�t there before they left. I almost think the man might be smarting up enough to realize how dangerous a relationship with her is. Almost. As Tim clears the doorway, I hear more than a few drawn breaths as people spot his half-dragon form. I�d almost forgotten he had his race changed�he�s been gone so long.

�Where�s everyone else?� a voice calls out from the crowd when no more people exit.

The crowd stills for an answer, hoping against hope.

�I�m sorry. We�re all that�s left of Dawson,� Bill says, his voice clear and loud. �We�re all that survived, and if the Circle hadn�t come, we�d be dead too.�

Murmurs run through the crowd, a few people peeling away.

�I don�t believe you! My son was in Dawson. He wouldn�t die,� a woman screams, pushing to the front of the crowd.

�I don�t lie. There�s no one left alive in Dawson.� Bill glares at the woman for a moment before he shakes his head, the glare disappearing. �I�m sorry, but they�re all dead. The monsters, we couldn�t fight them all.�

The woman screams a denial then launches herself at Bill, fingers curled into claws that she swings at his face. Before she can reach him, Luthien raises a hand and bonds of air grip the woman, holding her in place as she screams and struggles. Ugly sounds come from the crowd before the guards led by Amelia arrive.

�That�s it, everyone. Show�s over. Time to get going.� Amelia grabs and pushes people away, as do the other guards, all of them radiating a subtle menace that I recognize as a Skill.

Many of the people grabbed protest then see the look in the Truinnar guards� eyes and shudder before moving off. The crowd disperses quickly with the guards there. Jim taps Luthien�s arm, gesturing to the distraught mother. Sniffing in disdain, Luthien flicks her hand and the woman collapses into Jim�s waiting hands. She struggles for a moment, but as he continues to hug her, she stills, finally just crying.

�Nice town,� Bill drawls softly to his group, probably thinking no one can hear him in the commotion.

Standing next to the wall, unmoving and forgotten, I do. A few of the group titter while Tim shifts uncomfortably before he pushes away to walk up the street.

�Tim!� Kevin says, moving to grab his friend.

�Let him go,� Bill barks, shaking his head. �We don�t need weaklings like him.�

Luthien nods firmly when Kevin hesitates, biting his lip. When her boyfriend finally turns aside, Bill smiles at Luthien, who preens slightly. It�s so subtle, someone who wasn�t watching for it and who didn�t know her would never see.

Oh, you poor bastard. For a moment, I almost pity Kevin. Almost. When the crowd has dispersed enough, Bill leads the group off, stopping only long enough to speak with Amelia to thank her before they head out.

Well, this is going to be interesting.

Chapter 7

As momentous as the news about Dawson City was, life settled back into the norm soon enough. Bill and his group moved into the Circle�s old house, repurchasing the house from the System with little fanfare. Since then, they�ve made themselves scarce in terms of their interaction with the local population. Outside of hitting the Shops and occasionally the Nugget, the group seems to be focused on hunting and leveling. Of course, I hear there�s a little tension there since they refuse to bring back food for the pot and deal directly with the low-level Alchemists and Sally when they have parts to sell. As I understand it, Fred was rebuffed when he tried to talk to them about helping out the City. Seems like the time it takes to drag back corpses isn�t worth the payout. That does at least explain their levels somewhat. If they�re focusing only on leveling, it�s no surprise that they�re slightly higher than most of us.

Truth be told, I can see the appeal. Go out, kill, level. It�s the only way to stay safe, to be safe. Strength is power and safety in this world, and strength comes from Credits and Levels. At least, that�s what more and more hunters are saying. Goodwill gets you only so far, and the hunters under Jim have started fracturing, some following the Circle�s example and refusing to hunt for the pot anymore. Many point out that there�s more than enough food these days, pointing to the stores of meat and vegetables as the farms come in. The Council�s charts and explanations get thrown by the wayside�the simple fact that they can see the stores are more convincing proof to them. Anyway, they know the City could just buy more food from the Shop directly if they needed it.

When I see the Council individually or in a group, I almost pity them. The strain is beginning to show, the pressures of keeping the city together beginning to pull them apart. More and more people are blaming the Council as monsters continue to spawn in the town, even if we aren�t losing people to those attacks anymore. More and more people are wondering why they�re being asked to contribute Credits when they see so little results.

Through all this, Roxley stays hidden in his offices. No one sees him, no one speaks to him. The Yerick and his guards bear the brunt of the growing animosity, the glares and the whispered insults. Still, no one takes direct action as the threat of being sold into debt slavery keeps people in line. For now, anyway.

As I enter the Nugget, I find it filled with Adventurers and Crafters kicking back after a hard day�s work. Looking around, I spot Lana, Mikito, Amelia, and a few others sitting together. Ali floats alongside me, ogling the waitresses, as I walk up to the table.

�John,� Lana says, flashing me a smile.

�Ladies�� I blink, realizing that the entire group is made up of women. Oh. Right, not joining them then. �Just thought I�d say hi.�

�Good evening,� Mikito adds as I beat a hasty retreat.

There�s only a single table left, way too big for me alone, but what the hell, it is what it is. I grab a seat facing the doorway, and Ali plops down next to me. Out of idle curiosity, I glance over the group again.

�So, Lana, you � sleeping together yet?� Amelia says, her head turned just enough that I can lipread her. I almost feel guilty about intruding, but curiosity keeps me looking.

�No.� Lana shakes her head, emphasizing her answer. �I told you, we�re not like that.�

�Why not? We all know you � the hots for him. Not � it. I mean, he�s � looking but he�s so angry all the �� Amelia says, her hair occasionally sliding across her face and blocking my line of sight.

�Is he ever,� Mikito mutters. �I think he likes being angry.�

�There�s no future for us. One day he�s going to leave, even if he doesn�t realize it yet,� Lana says, shaking her head.

�� another girl interjects and the group laughs.

My eyes narrow as I wonder what was said, and when Lana begins to speak, my line of sight is blocked by a large armored form. I snarl slightly, looking up and up and up before I meet the placid gaze of the ten-foot-tall Yerick leader.

�First Fist,� I say, plastering a smile on my face.

�Redeemer. Will you allow us to join you?� He gestures to the table and benches and I look around, realizing that there are no seats anywhere else.

I nod, and Capstan takes a seat in front of me, permanently blocking my view of the ladies. His party mates join him, and I suddenly feel rather crowded among the large and slightly musty-smelling aliens.

�First Fist, I didn�t expect to see you here.� Ali hugs his beer mug to his body.

�We are celebrating this day and were informed that the Nugget carries a passable alcohol for our purposes.� Capstan glances at his companions before waving to them. �Redeemer, may I introduce my companions�Aron Hauser, Nelia Renar, and Tahar Ocasio.�

Aron, of course, is the Minotaur fighter who was with Jim. Nelia I�ve seen before, a Level 48 Shaman Truthseeker�whatever that is�and Tahar seems to be another generic Yerick Adventurer.

I greet them in turn before I ask the obvious question, �What celebration?�

�What drink?� Ali adds.

Ali�s question is answered when the waitress comes over with a dark, almost black liquid in mugs the size of a pitcher. Even from my seat, I can smell the alcohol in them.

�Good gods,� I mutter, leaning back a bit. Sure, the beer I drink really doesn�t do anything for me with my Constitution, but that�s for the best. Being drunk in an unsecure city seems like a bad, bad idea. �What is that?�

�Your brewery calls it Apocalypse Ale,� Capstan says, pushing a mug to each of his companions. �It is decently strong.�

�And the celebration?� I ask as Ali floats over to a waitress to order an ale for himself. I watch the waitress nod before letting my gaze flick to the other tables. We�re getting more than one nasty look, but no one feels the need to start a fight they�ll lose.

�We completed a dungeon!� Aron butts in, grinning as he leans forward. �Level 35 and up!�

Capstan nods while keeping a straight face, though I can tell he�s quite proud of the group. The robed and hooded Nelia nods as well.

As Ali floats back with his mug in hand, I pick up my own. �Well, congratulations then!� They stare at my glass that I hold in the air before I chuckle a bit awkwardly. Right, culture. �Uhh� humans normally drink after the congratulations.�

The Yerick look at one another then simultaneously pick up their drinks, quaffing them without hesitation, followed by Ali and myself.

�A strange custom. Yerick prefer to enjoy their drink,� Tahar speaks for once, looking morosely at his empty glass.

�I�ll remember that.� I�m saved from more embarrassment as the waitresses bring dinner out at last. Capstan makes a face at the food laid out before me. �Problem?�

�No,� Capstan replies immediately, shaking his head while Tahar keeps his head down.

�Yerick don�t eat meat, boy-o.� Ali shakes his head. �You�d think you�d know that, what with them looking like cows.�

�We are not cows,� Aron snarls. He immediately subsides when Capstan gives him a look.

�Ali didn�t mean that.� I glare at the Spirit stealing a fry from one of my plates.

�Yeah, yeah. So you guys cleared a dungeon, eh? We did one too, a month and a half back. Boy-o lost his mojo though when he lost his bike,� Ali adds, and I grunt, shaking my head.

�You cleared a dungeon by yourself?� Capstan says.

�Just a Level 20 one,� I say. �I�ve run into a few locations since then, but I got run out of one and another, well, I figured I�d test it out soon.�

�Really?� Capstan leans forward. �Would you care to trade on the locations? Unexplored Dungeons are quite important.�

I stare at them for a moment, my lip pulling up slightly into a smile. �Well, now that you mention it��

�This is the dungeon you cleared, eh?� I look at the large building in the abandoned village the next day, frowning. Unlike most of the other buildings around here, this one looks to be in pretty good repair. �It doesn�t look that big.�

�It isn�t out here,� Capstan answers me, rotating broad shoulders as he adjusts his gear. �You stay in the back. Use your Spells and rifle and watch our backs. Nelia is our mage and healer, so she�ll be ahead of you and backing us all up. The three of us, well, we�ll be in front.�

I nod and turn to look for Ali. The Spirit floats in mid-air, staring at the abandoned buildings. I let my gaze wander over the remnants of the small community, a place where a hundred or so might have lived before the System. Happily, I guess, or at least as happily as you could be in a place like this. There aren�t that many corpses around, just a few scattered bones, broken-down houses and cars. All of it abandoned and slowly being overrun. A part of me wonders if I could find more corpses if I looked for them. Most of me decides against looking.

�You good, boy-o?� Ali asks and points toward where the others are already entering.

�Let�s go,� I reply, following the Yerick.

When you think dungeon, you think stone walls or caverns or maybe a castle. What you don�t expect is an old office building that stretches on and on, hallways that lead to rooms that loop around back to the hallway, never seeming to end. Off-white walls with fluorescent lights that work without electricity, lighting everything just a little off. It�s a weird reminder that the System doesn�t necessarily line up with our expectations.

No traps in this dungeon but golems, lots and lots of golems. Humanoid, bipedal constructs that totter forward, raining energy beams and fire on us, occasionally interspersing the attacks with more exotic weaponry like sonic grenades or ice darts.

The Yerick plow forward through the attacks using portable shields, firing from under the cover of the glowing blue domes. Aron and Tahar lead the charge with wrist-mounted beam weaponry till they�re close enough to engage the creatures in melee. Capstan uses a rifle behind them, ignoring the occasional shot that gets past the shields and picking off those behind us. Nelia in her robes does little, occasionally casting a healing spell or a weird web-spell that constricts and slows the monsters. The team is a well-oiled machine, each of them covering for the other with a minimum of words and confusion. I don�t even bother attempting to shoot past them, knowing that I�m as likely to hit a friendly as a monster.

Instead, I keep an eye on the back and deal with the occasional Golem that pops up behind us. Blade, rifle, and spells are more than enough to deal with the threats, especially since their flanking attacks are limited.

I have more than enough time to muse, being safely ensconced in the back as I am. More than enough time to think about the peculiarities of character builds and team tactics. In a �traditional� multi-player game, every character gets a Class and that Class generally has a role. Tank, damage dealer, healer, crowd control. More complicated pen-and-paper role-playing games added less direct combat-oriented Classes like the Bard. Everyone specialized because you had to, that�s what the game required.

Of course, most of those games were set in a fantasy world. Modern-day combat stopped having people carry around melee weapons because a spear isn�t much use against cannonballs and muskets smashing into your ranks, killing and wounding before you could near your opponent. Machine guns that threw hundreds of rounds a second meant that rushing an entrenched position led to thousands of casualties.

All that reasoning seems to kind of go out the window in System reality, as I told Jason months ago. Classes are given, and at first glance, it seems you should specialize and become a fighter, a healer, a mage. But none of that matters since you can purchase nearly anything in the System, including Class Skills. You can and probably should become a jack-of-all-trades with a minor specialization in your original Class. Watching the Yerick fight, that seems to be the preferred method among them at least. Probably a good idea to have everyone dabble a little bit. After all, you don�t want to get caught out if your only healer goes down or your only ranged fighter dies.

On the other hand, armor and shields soak up a bunch of ranged attack damage in the System, even if they don�t stop the damage entirely. Every single person is a moving tank with the right kind of equipment and Skills. The Yerick cover ground quickly, ensuring that they bring their physical strength to bear in any encounter, using melee weapons that deal as much, if not more, damage as beam weaponry. Take the shots, deal a little damage on the way in, then get close and rip them apart while the healer/mage keeps your health up and ensures you aren�t too overworked. I do wonder what it�d be like if they met a sentient group willing to run away as much as they were willing to charge. Would it just be a giant running battle?

Hours later, Capstan holds up a hand as the last Golem falls in the room we�re exploring. The others turn to him, and he makes a few gestures with the same hand. The group quickly splits up and sets small boxes in front of the doorways. After a moment, the boxes glow green and the Yerick relax, grinning.

�Portable shield generators. More powerful than the personal ones the Yerick use but with a lot less time on the clock. They have an in-built alarm and scanner, so if something tries to come through, they�ll activate.� Ali yawns. �You bored as I am?�

�No.� I join the Yerick as they sit on the floor, pulling cubes of green and brown paste from their inventory. �Lunch?�

�Yes. We are two thirds of the way through the dungeon, I believe,� Capstan replies, nodding. �Single floor, but long, as you can tell.�

�Yeah.� I grimace and sit down, tapping my helmet to make it fold down and free me to breathe unencumbered. �Where do the Golems come from? They aren�t evolutions from Earth for sure.�

�Probably a template somewhere. Maybe in the ground, maybe in a wall. The System diverts the Mana in the dungeon to the template to create the golems. Each golem birthed this way requires Mana, which is the main reason dungeons are created.� Capstan pops open the cap of his green paste. �Leave it alone long enough and they�ll spill out, but most dungeon-born monsters prefer to stay in the dungeons they were created in.�

�That�s the prevailing theory of dungeons anyway,� Ali sends to me as he fishes out some soggy fish and chips from my Altered Space. My nose wrinkles slightly at the smell, but he doesn�t seem to care about it.

I nod slowly as I suck on the all-in-one meal I brought for my lunch. It�s edible�sort of like apple sauce, just a little grainier. I figured the Yerick would prefer if I kept my meat eating down around them, though Ali of course doesn�t give a damn. �So what about the Alphas? The Bosses?�

�If a monster group has an Alpha, the System creates an Alpha because that�s what the monster group should have,� Aron answers, looking at me as if I�m stupid. �Why would the System change what works?�

I open my mouth to retort, but Ali adds, �It�s a safeguard too. Alphas and Bosses require more Mana, so in a golem dungeon like this, the Boss is just a monster that�s had more Mana diverted into it. You can�t do that too much to normal monsters or they go pop, so only a few special ones can be Bosses. The System has to do it because the Mana flow isn�t even. It�s more like waves in the ocean. If there�s a surge, it needs a place to dump.�

�That� makes sense.� I switch over to some juice, staring at the doorway as the group continues to chew placidly on their food. �I don�t understand why the System wants to deal with Mana that way though.�

�8Ink,� Nelia says.

�Gesundheit.�

�It�s an old story, idiot,� Ali says.

�Sad story,� Capstan says.

�Stupid,� Aron adds.

�Still not explaining,� I grumble.

�When the System came to 8Ink, the ambassador let the inhabitants of the world know. The inhabitants were supposedly a psionic race, an empathic one. They decided, as a world, to reject the System. When the System came, none chose to interact with it. No one leveled, no one used Mana. So the Mana kept pooling and pooling and pooling. The Council tried to divert the Mana elsewhere, but back then, we only had four Dungeon Worlds. It wasn�t possible to get rid of enough of it,� Capstan says. �Eventually, well, the Mana density became too much and even the sentient inhabitants started transforming, evolving. Still, they refused to interact. Eventually, the entire world evolved.�

�So�s Earth,� I point out, tossing my used meal into my inventory.

�Not like� the entire world evolved. 8Ink became a World Titan,� Nelia clarifies.

I wince. Oh, shit. �What�?�

�It got up and flew away. Records of where it went and what it�s doing have been lost. Some say hidden,� Tahar says, sudden passion entering his voice. �8Ink�s return is quite a popular branch of fiction. If you want, I have a few books on me.�

Aron rolls his eyes while Ali actually nods in excitement. Aron lets out a low huff of exasperation while Nelia and Capstan go back to eating, waiting for me to continue.

�Let me get this straight. Too much Mana means giant Elementals. To stop that, the System puts Mana into monsters it stores away? Isn�t killing a monster then releasing the Mana?� I ask.

�No.� Nelia shakes her head, glitter-decorated horns flashing in fluorescent light. �Some Mana goes back into the environment, but� the System uses a lot. Mana is necessary for the Loot, for our experience, for running the�?�

�System,� Capstan finishes for Nelia absently, filling in when the mage falls silent.

Brows furrowed, I puzzle through it. �If you could do all that, why bother with all the intervening steps? Why not just convert the Mana straight away?�

�Why do you think it�s a Quest, John? If we had the answer to that, the Quest would have been complete,� Ali says mockingly.

Capstan and the others nod as Capstan stands. �Do not chase that Quest, Redeemer. It leads nowhere and the rewards decrease as you journey along the path. Gravity pulls you down, the axe hungers for blood, and the System is the System.�

As the group gets ready to get going, Aron and Tahar grabbing the portal shield generators, I sigh and put that question away again. Ali smirks at me then flicks a finger, sending a window to fill my vision.

Quest Update�the System

The creation of Dungeons and Mana are important for the Quest, but why? You have found some answers, but more questions.

Reward: +200 XP

Yeah, yeah, I got it. What is, is. Better to go and kill something.

�Uhh� was he that big before?� I whisper to the Yerick as we huddle around the corner from the doorway.

�No. This might be� interesting,� Capstan says and I stare at him. Really?

I poke my head around the corner again, getting a hiss from Nelia as I do so, but I need to see our opponent again to get my head around this. The Golem boss doesn�t look any different from its brethren really. Bipedal with two heads and four arms, each wielding a combination rifle and fist with a metallic exterior. Sure, it�s green, which is rather unique, but the bigger surprise is that it�s twenty-five feet tall.

Golem Arcana (Boss Level 42)

HP: 7420/7420

�Also, boy-o, it�s an It,� Ali adds. �You�re such a misogynist.�

�Ali,� I snarl, temper flaring.

Capstan claps me on the shoulder, hissing at me. I blush slightly, somewhat embarrassed at my outburst. Right, we�re trying to come up with a plan.

�Spirit, is the creature vulnerable to anything?� Capstan asks.

Ali stares into space, his little fingers waggling. �Water.�

Aron whispers to Nelia, �Told you you should have gotten another Ice spell. No, you had to go with Fireball.�

Nelia growls at Aron while Capstan and Tahar look at me.

I open my hands, shaking my head. �Nothing useful. I could hit it with Lightning, but that jumps around. I have Mana Dart��

Aron rolls his eyes, and Tahar snorts dismissively. Fine, fine. It�s the lowest-level combat spell out there, and even improved, it�s still not particularly impressive. Personally, I think if I can improve it to send out dozens of those darts, it�d be amazing.

Capstan stays silent, scratching his arm as he stares into the distance. �We will need to stay close. The fists are dangerous, but the beam weapons are more so. Nelia will attempt to disable the upper left arm. I shall take the upper right. Redeemer, you must take the lower left. Aron and Tahar will take the last. Disable, then help the others. And then we kill it.�

The three Yerick twist and jerk their heads in unison in their traditional yes while I nod.

�Nelia, you will begin. May the herd watch over us.� Capstan stands, unslinging his axe for once.

The other pair get ready, their breathing increasing in speed slightly as they pump themselves up. I quietly activate Thousand Steps, figuring we could use the extra speed, and call forth my sword.

Nelia steps out past the door as she calls her spell into being. It takes longer than it usually does, a giant ritual circle of glowing blue lines and symbols appearing behind her as she builds and shapes her spell, Glacial Wall. Unfortunately, the Golem isn�t waiting for her to finish and is already turning, raising its arms.

The boys dash off to the right, opening up their beam weapons while Capstan steps up to Nelia�s side. I�m running to the left, cutting outward with my Skill and sending a Blade Slash directly to my assigned arm, watching as the glowing blue curl of Mana impact and create a small diagonal tear in the metal. Crap�the damage from my attack doesn�t even budge its health meter.

As the Golem lets loose with all four of its beam weapons aimed at Nelia, Capstan raises his axe, which bursts into flames. As he swings down, the flames erupt and spiral forward to meet the beams. Defying logic, they clash with the incoming energy and stop it. A part of me is sitting in a corner of my mind, pointing out that energy does not get stopped by shooting flames! Physics does not work that way. The rest of me is too busy lashing out with the Blade Strike in an attempt to disable the cannon.

When the beams stop firing, so does Capstan. In the brief moment of silence, Nelia finishes her spell and it comes into existence in a stream of cold energy from the symbol, enveloping the monster�s arm and coating it in ice. The monster attempts to raise its arm, and with a creak, the entire arm breaks off, falling to the floor and shattering.

Unfortunately, I�m running right into that mess. I have to spend the next few seconds ducking and covering up from the shards of metal and ice that fly all around me. The Yerick throw up their force shields, taking the shards directly to close in on their arm. When I�ve got a moment, I throw up my hand and throw a few Mana Darts at the creature as I regain my footing, swearing under my breath.

�Can you see this? Or this? Or this?� Ali taunts the Golem, ducking back and forth in front of the creature as he partly blocks the monster�s view.

That lasts only long enough for the Golem Boss to decide to do something about Ali, its eyes glowing and sending a pair of blasts. Ali yelps when he gets caught by the edge of one of those blasts, his body smoking. After that, he pays more attention, but his distraction lets us get in close.

For the next few minutes, things are hectic. I catch glimpses of what�s happening on the other side�Capstan jumping into the air and bringing his axe down on an arm, shearing halfway through it, Aron grabbing the attacking arm that misses him by inches and holding it steady as Tahar takes his Warhammer to the elbow joint. The damn Golem has no problem focusing on multiple attackers at the same time, so we�re all fighting our own battles. I find myself with little time to worry about the others though. The problem isn�t that the target is hard to hit, it�s that it�s so big and well-armored, I need to keep hitting the same location in the hope of cutting through.

Capstan takes his arm down next, then a short while later, the third one the boys are dealing with goes. As I finally lodge my sword in a joint and get ready to trigger Blade Strike, I find myself staggering at a sudden change of direction. The blade gets pulled down with the rest of the arm, the Golem having ejected its arms as it retreats. A few minutes later, its body opens and dozens of beam weapons appear across its torso before it opens fire again.

Caught in mid-charge, we�re taken by surprise. Capstan is targeted by over half of the beams and is blown into the ground, flesh sizzling and hair burning. The other Yerick get their shields up in time, but they have to hunch over to protect themselves. As for me, I manage to get out of the main line of fire and only eat about a third of what it aims at me. Flesh cooks off, bones heat up, and most of my armor gets chewed through. I grit my teeth, pain shooting through my body as I roll on the ground to get away.

�John, Nelia!� Ali shouts.

I stagger to my feet facing her and see the woman on the ground, whimpering with smoke rising from her body. Even as I watch, another beam targets her prone body, intent on ending her. Not again!

I snap a hand out, casting Two are One on her and taking a portion of her damage. Unfortunately, getting distracted in the middle of the fight means I get shot too. Beams that initially missed me find their target now. I sink to the ground, pain filling my existence as the damage accumulates even through my resistances. I focus, casting Greater Regeneration on myself to buy Nelia and me some more time.

The shots cut off suddenly as a bestial roar and a resounding clang occur in short order. The clanging happens again and again, and I slowly force myself to stand up as the Golem is knocked off its feet.

�Heal Nelia!� Capstan barks at me as he runs forward, smoke still rising from his body.

He jumps into the air, fire enveloping his entire body as he accelerates down onto the prone Golem. At its feet, Tahar is swinging away at a joint. That�s all I have time to see before my lurching, smoking form reaches Nelia�s still body, a Healing Spell ready in my hand.

Even as the spell wraps around Nelia�s body, I�m stabbing a syringe filled with an immediate healing potion into her neck. Her health bar inches up under both effects and I drag her into the hallway and out of the battle. Safe, I inject her with a health regeneration potion that will heal her over time before I duck back in just enough to see what�s happening inside.

The battle is nearly over. Capstan is halfway into the Golem�s body, tearing larger and larger holes in its torso, still filled with that boiling red mist, with his axe. Crouched next to him is the blond fur of Aron as he leans into the open cavity, pulling out gears and cogs with his bare hands. Beneath, at the Boss�s feet, Tahar has pulverized a knee and is working on the other one. With a final ear-wrenching squeal, the Golem stops moving. I exhale in relief, turning back to make sure Nelia is alive.

Gods, that was close. I can�t help the smile that plasters itself on my face as the adrenaline slowly subsides and I help Nelia slowly make her way into the cavern. There�s nothing like fighting for your life. Seeing Aron stand on the body of the fallen Golem and crowing about his victory and seeing Tahar�s wide grin, I can�t help but think I�m not the only one. The Yerick look worse for wear, their armor burnt and torn, flesh devoid of fur, and giant holes in the body showcasing slowly regenerating wounds.

�Thank you,� Nelia murmurs to me as she slowly pulls herself straight. �What was that you cast?�

�Skill.� I flash her a grin. �It�s called Two are One. Lets me take some of the damage.�

�Can you split it across multiple people?� Nelia asks, her eyes gleaming.

I pause, thinking about it. �Not sure. I�ve never tried it actually.�

�Well, if you can...�

I wait for a moment before realizing that she�s forgotten about what she had to say. I shrug, dismissing it as I just can�t be bothered with that train of thought right now.

�So what�s the loot?� I ask when we finally reach the rest of the group.

Ali is silent, floating above the Boss and frowning before he twitches a hand, making the Golem�s entire body flash. When the flash subsides, parts of it glow. Oooh, that�s a new trick.

Capstan flashes me a smile, his prodigious regeneration already replacing burnt and damaged skin and fur as he walks to the body. �Let�s see.�

Hauling the Golems� bodies back to town is a bitch of a job. It takes hours to grab and drag all the various pieces and parts to the hover-truck. I get more than one jealous glance as I make entire Golem bodies drop into my Altered Space. I still grab and haul bodies of course, though the Yerick boys generally haul about half of what I do. Pretty damn impressive considering my own Strength stat.

When we get back into Whitehorse, we catch more than a few curious looks. Not every day you see Yerick with a bunch of their fur burnt off and missing most of their armor. Xev chitters angrily when we arrive, staring at the giant mess of metal and wires that we drop in its yard before it skitters around the pile, muttering to itself. After a time, it looks at us and orders us out, promising to send a full accounting later. None of us feel particularly up to arguing, so we do as it says.

After a quick visit to the Shop to split our profits, we convene in the Nugget for dinner and drinks. Thus far, I�ve yet to be invited into their compound, but I can live with that. The Nugget�s more my speed, even if the Yerick find it slightly small for their taste.

We�re mostly done dinner, the pub filled to bursting, when trouble starts. An inebriated hunter stalks over to us, stopping a short distance away to glare at the group. The Yerick ignore him so I do too.

He shouts, �Get out!�

I tilt my head, shifting in my chair as I consider the slightly weaving, plaid-wearing xenophobe. The Yerick continue to ignore him, sipping on their drinks, though they�ve stopped discussing the dungeon run.

�You deaf as well as ugly? I said get out. We don�t want you fucking aliens here. This is a good human establishment,� the man shouts again.

My hand clenches slightly, but Capstan just shakes his head.

�You��

�You will get out,� Lana says, her voice cutting across his, perfectly calm and quiet but somehow piercing. Stupid looks at her, mouth opening, before she continues. �Henry, you�re not welcome here anymore.�

�Lana.� Stupid�s voice is ugly, filled with hate, as he steps into her space. Lana doesn�t back down, though her nose wrinkles as his spittle and hot breath blows in her face. �You meddling bitch. You�ve got no place telling me what to do.�

�Actually, I do. I�m the owner here, and you�re not welcome. Now go,� Lana says again, her gaze turning even colder.

Stupid snarls, grabbing Lana�s upper arm to make his point. Instead of reacting physically, Lana�s face flushes slightly. Something changes in the blink of an eye as the friendly, personable, and beautiful young woman disappears entirely. Her hair seems to darken, becoming a blood red that is not entirely natural. Those violet eyes that are almost impossible to see in that color shift to a brilliant purple as her skin becomes fairer and closer to marble. More, there�s a palpable sense of danger coming from her now. Stupid whitens, his hand falling away as his jaw drops. Behind Lana, a waitress drops a tray, and nearby patrons shrink back in their seat.

Aura of the Red Queen Resisted.

Capstan lets out a low growl of approval while the other Yerick shrink back like the rest of the pub. Nelia�s face tightens before she straightens, obviously fighting and winning against the Aura.

�Out,� Lana says again, her voice a whisper that rings through the silence in the pub.

Stupid lets out a low whimper, frozen in space. Suddenly Lana steps back. The acrid smell of fresh urine reaches my nose a moment later. I have to hide a grin as Lana�s face twists in disgust, Stupid still frozen in place.

�Oh god, you did not pee yourself!� Ali laughs, obviously not affected.

I stand up, grab Stupid by the arm, and lead the unresisting man out. At the door, I shove him slightly to send him sprawling onto the ground. His friends follow him quickly, shooting fearful glances back at the young lady who continues to dominate the pub. Once they�re gone, Lana shuts off the Aura and sighs, directing one of the waitresses to clean up the new mess.

Lana walks up to me and touches my arm, smiling. �Thank you.�

�You�re welcome. Though you might consider being a little lighter on your touch next time.� I chuckle. �Unless you like having Health & Safety get upset with you.�

�No such thing anymore,� Lana says. �I don�t have a lot of opportunities to practice using the Skill anyway.�

�Was that a Class Skill? Never seen Richard use it,� I ask.

�No. Shop bought. Watching Roxley, well, it gave me the idea,� she explains, smiling slightly. �It�s been useful.�

�I bet.� I smile slightly, noting that she hasn�t moved her hand as yet.

She catches my glance and flushes, dropping her hand to the side. �I should talk to the others.�

�Yeah.� I nod, watching her step away. I shake my head after a moment, smiling slightly as I walk back to the table. Surprises everywhere.

�Your mate is interesting,� Aron says, nodding toward Lana. �Few Adventurers bother with such extravagant Skills.�

�Lana�s not my mate. Or an Adventurer.�

�My apologies,� Aron says, shaking his head. �The mating rituals of other cultures are difficult to understand at times. Even with purchased knowledge.�

�We don�t call it mating here,� I point out.

�In John�s case, it definitely isn�t mating. Or dating. Or anything,� Ali chimes in.

�It is a pity she is not�� Nelia adds from the side, pushing aside the last of the nachos she ordered. �She has the heart of one. More than some of your...�

�Adventurers,� Capstan fills in after the silence lingers.

I grunt, shaking my head. �Don�t tell Jim that.�

�Of course not,� Nelia replies, aggrieved.

As I open my mouth to apologize, Capstan adds, �We should go. Nelia and I have duties in the clan, and Aron and Tahar must ensure our equipment is ready for tomorrow.�

I nod. �Tomorrow then. I�ll lead you guys through the dungeon I cleared. Should be very simple, so we should check out the other monster lair too.�

Capstan nods agreeably as his team quaffs their drinks. I watch them leave quietly, smiling slightly. Well, clearing dungeons with this team should be easy.

�The Minotaur was right, she was very impressive,� Bill says, interrupting my thoughts.

I look the man over then flick my gaze to Luthien and the raven-haired female who accompanies him. Ali floats back from outside, having finished heckling the poor hunter, and he sniffs as he notes Luthien.

Getting no answer from me, Bill sticks out his hand. �I�m Bill. We haven�t met yet, but I thought we should talk.�

�Oh?� I glance at his hand then nod to him, not releasing the grip on my pint of beer.

�John, you can be polite!� Luthien snaps.

�Toots, why don�t you take your skanky-ass back to your man?� Ali says before I can say anything. �Looks like you still haven�t told him you�re rubbing naughty bits with this guy, so perhaps it�s time to do that?�

Luthien snarls, raising a hand to blast Ali, but he just smirks at her.

Bill doesn�t even twitch, staring at me. �John, you should control your fairy. Accusations like that could get him hurt.�

�Go ahead.� I wave, leaning back and smiling slightly.

�What?�

�Go ahead and beat him,� I clarify, gesturing to the smirking Spirit. �He deserves it.�

�Hey! I�m helping here,� Ali says, spinning to look at me. The backhand that sails through his body, thrown ever so casually by Bill, makes Ali stick out his tongue at him.

�I see,� Bill says.

�I know something that will hurt!� Luthien smiles viciously, pulling a dark cloud into her hand.

�No fighting in the pub,� Lana snaps as she strides over, glaring at the group.

Bill shoots Luthien a look, and she subsides, her lips curling up as Lana approaches.

�Thanks, Lana. At least someone appreciates me,� Ali says.

�Ali, shut up.� Lana glares around the group. �Now, will you all calm down? Or do I have to kick you out too so I can have an evening of peace?�

�Can it, Ali, she�s not kidding,� I send to Ali.

He thinks back, �No shit. I�m not the one who doesn�t understand women here.�

Gritting my teeth, I raise my glass to my lips while Bill speaks. �My apologies. We were just here to speak, peaceably, with John.�

�About what?� Lana says, foot tapping.

�Oh, just the city. I was led to believe he and I might have something in common.� Bill continues to smile at Lana, facing the redhead fully.

�Well, do it quietly.� Lana casts a worried look at me then at Luthien before she walks away.

�So, John, are you working with the Minotaurs at this time?� Bill says.

�Yerick. And yes,� I say, deciding that answering might be the fastest way to get rid of him.

�Oh God, you going PC on me now?� Luthien mutters, rolling her eyes.

For a moment, I wonder what the hell I saw in her. She was always biting about people being careful about terminology. After all, they just needed to grow thicker skin! I have to admit, I never said a thing, never objected or argued with her about how words can grate on you, chip away at your ego and control. How simple insults, delivered dozens, hundreds of times can get under your skin until even casual, non-vicious use can anger you. I should have said something. Could have. I stare at her then smile. All right then, if they want to underestimate the Yerick, they can.

�Interesting. Will you be partying with them for a while?� Bill says, brows furrowing as I smile at Luthien, who looks puzzled at my reaction.

�What�s it to you?� I tilt my head, leaning back in my seat.

�Nothing at this time. I feel like you and I might have something in common. You do not suffer the fools on the Council, like I do. You�ve also gained in power outside of their silly rules,� Bill says.

�Thanks, but you�re not my type.�

Bill�s eyes tighten slightly though his lips don�t shift from that smile of his. �May I ask why?�

�Her.� I point at Luthien. �You can go now.�

�Well, that is� unfortunate.� Bill turns and gestures to Luthien, who has a snarl on her face. He grabs her arm, tugging on it as he walks and forces her to walk after him.

My eyes narrow as I read her lips. �I told youso.�

�Yes, you did. I wanted to��

They�re fully turned away and too far away to catch the rest, so I just watch the trio move away. I frown then look at Ali.

�Do you remember what the third of the group was doing?� I frown, racking my memories.

�No. Hmmm�� Ali frowns, staring into the distance as he accesses the System. After a moment, he lets out a low hiss. �Right, she�s a spy or rogue or assassin of some form. Data�s entirely hidden in the System. Pretty sure she�s got a Skill that makes you forget about her.�

�Interesting.� I grimace, watching the trio sit down at their table. Very, very interesting.

Chapter 8

�You need to make your motions even smaller,� Mikito says as I groan, rotating my shoulder after our latest sparring match.

In terms of raw speed, I actually am faster than her these days. The problem is, she�s got at least a Master�s level of Skill and years of experience dueling humanoids and learning to move her body. I still have a tendency to make too large a motion, especially when I make my sword disappear, the shift in weight throwing my body off. Between that and smart positioning on her part, most of my attacks have to cover more ground than hers, allowing her to hit me more often than I do her. Good thing I have a lot more health than she does.

�Easier said than done.� I eye her naginata. �Am I wrong or is that thing hitting harder?�

Mikito hugs the naginata, glaring at me as I speak so casually of her prized possession. �It is. It gained a new Skill.�

�Your weapon got a Skill?� My jaw drops.

Mikito smiles, the coldness dropping off her face for a moment as she looks at the weapon lovingly and caresses the haft. �Yes.�

I�d call her attachment to it weird except I know that the weapon is the last gift from her husband, his sacrifice of his Perk to give her a chance to survive. �Is it Leveling?�

She nods slightly.

Ali zips over, his eyes wide as we speak, and hovers next to her. �You got to be shitting me, girlie. You mean your boytoy got you a linked weapon?�

�Linked?�

�It levels every time you level,� Ali explains.

�No. It levels over time after use,� Mikito replies.

Ali�s jaw drops. He moves to hover near the weapon, a hand held out but not touching. �May I?�

For a long moment, Mikito hesitates before she nods, offering the weapon to Ali. He doesn�t take it, instead flying low to touch the weapon. After a moment, I see Mikito�s eyes focus just in front of her face before she taps on the screen. The moment she does, information blooms in front of me.

Tier II Polearm (Hitoshi)

Base Damage: 94

Durability: 750/750

Special Abilities: Soul Drinker (Level 3), Armor Piercing (Level 1)

�Soul Drinker?� I cough. �That�s not at all ominous. Not one bit.�

�Oh, stop being a whiny baby,� Ali says, rolling his eyes. �Some overly melodramatic idiot decided to translate it as that. It just means that Hitoshi over there can Level the more it gets used.�

�Why is it only Level 3?�

�Don�t think of its levels like your sword. It isn�t.� Ali lets the weapon go before floating up to Mikito�s face to stare at her, his face utterly serious. �Don�t ever let anyone do that again.�

�Care to explain?� I have an inkling why, but better to be sure.

�Soul Drinker weapons are rare. Many of the most powerful weapons in the System are Soul Drinkers. Gods, you are right�that sounds so fucking pretentious,� Ali grumbles. Mikito clears her throat and Ali sighs, switching back to the topic at hand. �Your sword is soulbound, so it�ll level at the same rate as you do, but in a different way. It�ll get more� swordy. Eventually, it might even get a new ability or two. Uncommon, but not rare. Hitoshi on the other hand will Level like a person. It�ll get Skills, and unlike your sword, it won�t ever disappear. Weapons like these are heirlooms�they grow stronger with each wielder.�

�Is it alive?�

�No. Not yet,� Ali replies immediately. �I�ve heard rumors that at high enough levels, these weapons might gain a personality, but I�ve never met one.�

I nod and Mikito hugs her weapon once again. I have one more question. �Hitoshi�was that the name of your�?�

She shakes her head before she slowly looks up, her answer barely a whisper. �It was what we would have called our son.�

I flinch, looking away, and she steps back too.

Ali just stares at the two of us before snorting. �Right, well, now we know why you hit so damn hard. Keep using it and don�t tell anyone else. Got it?�

Mikito nods, then after a moment, she turns and flees back into the house. I watch her go, breathing slightly easier as the tension eases. I never know what to say to things like that.

I�ve got a day off from dungeoneering today, since the Yerick are busy with some internal issue in their compound. I guess when your party leader is also the leader of the community, you can�t go out killing monsters every day. You have responsibilities that transcend simple leveling.

I don�t, of course. I�m not responsible for anyone but me, which means I get to run around killing things for my pleasure. Okay, that just seems a bit psychotic. Then again, we kind of live in a psychotic world. I could lounge around at home but Lana is always busy and I only spot her in the evenings at best when I finally make my way back. Mikito and Richard are out as always and since the kids no longer need to rely on our house for electricity, we�ve mostly gotten the place back. That leaves sitting at home playing computer games or watching movies, something I used to love doing. Now, between the burbling pit of anger in my stomach and the ever-present sense of doom the System has brought, I can�t sit still.

As I jog through the lower zones around Whitehorse, I dodge around the monsters that pop up. Most don�t even attempt to attack me, hiding from the bigger predator. I�ve got a goal today�check out my fort then do some hunting.

As I pound through the forest, I find myself curious about my companion floating beside me, his eyes locked on an invisible screen in front of him. �What are you watching now?�

�Island Hunters.� Ali shakes his head. �It�s� so strange. It�s strangely addictive. Will they buy this piece of property or this one? Are the granite countertops of this residence worth the trade-off in space? Most importantly, why did you humans spend so much time caring about dumb shit like that?�

�Seriously, why are you obsessed with our TV?� I ask, pausing long enough to lop off the head of a snake-worm creature that pops out of the ground before I continue onward. �And don�t tell me it�s about the tits and ass, because you�re watching house hunting.�

�Research,� Ali says, his face unusually serious. �I�m doing research on you humans.�

�Through reality TV?� I stop and stare at Ali, my eyes wide. �You�re shitting me. Please don�t tell me you think we�re like Jersey Shore or the Real Housewives?�

�Gods, that�d be fabulous. Even better if you were like Queer Eye. At least you�d have a fashion sense. �What am I going to wear today? Oh, black. Black. More black!�� Ali says. �I�m a Spirit, boy-o, not stupid.�

�Then why reality TV? Half of it is scripted.�

�Have you ever tried watching a documentary? Trust me, if I�ve got to do research, I might as well be entertained while doing it. Your fictional TV is amusing, but your reality TV is useful.�

�What are you trying to learn?�

�About humans of course.� Ali stops, pointing at a monster in the distance that has spotted us.

I pull up my rifle, and a few moments later, it lies on the ground, smoking.

Before I can walk farther, Ali holds up a hand. �Let�s talk first.�

�Okay.�

�When I was first summoned, I got a basic download of you people. I got to choose my sex and my general appearance. I threw together what you saw while I was nursing a headache, which by the way, isn�t a lot of fun and is rather unique to you humans. My appearance, my body, the knowledge downloaded is what was set up by the System by some hackjob. While I�m not really human, I�m not really what I was�what I am�when I�m not here.�

I nod. I�m not entirely surprised he doesn�t look like a Middle Eastern man when he�s banished. I kind of assumed his appearance was some random generation pulled from my mind, maybe something based off a twisted idea of what a Djinn should look like. It does make me wonder what he really looks like as a Spirit, and for that matter, why they recognized him immediately in the Shop. Questions, questions, questions.

�But in the Shop?� I ask, recalling how they knew who he was when he first went in.

�They recognized my Mana signature. As System-bound Spirit Companions, it�s not unusual for us to change forms. My Mana Signature doesn�t change though,� Ali explains, and I nod. �Here�s the thing. I still have a bunch of your urges and some really, really weird memories and experiences in my head. I mean, shoulder pads and queues?� Ali shakes his head. �On top of that, I�ve got you and all the data you humans are dumping into the System. The better I understand you humans, the better I understand you. The better I understand you, the more likely I can keep you from killing yourself.�

�Almost sounds like you care,� I tease.

�Funny. It�s my job, boy-o.�

�So how�d you get this job anyway? You applied to be a Spirit Companion or�?�

�Not exactly.� Ali frowns, his lips tightening before he blows out a breath in a huff. �Right, well, I�m contracted to be here because I�m indentured to the System for a rather large debt.�

�So you didn�t have a choice?� I frown.

Ali waggles his hand slightly. �Not exactly. I could have done some other things, but being a Companion can be a pretty good-paying gig. Generally we get paid based off how long you survive. As a Linked Companion, my pay scale goes up based on your Level. The longer you stay alive and the higher your level, the more I earn, which means the faster my debt is paid off.�

I nod slowly and wait. He doesn�t say anything more, so I turn, finish looting the corpse, and take it into my Altered Space. I start jogging again and Ali floats alongside, keeping pace easily.

As the silence grows, he finally cracks. �So you�re okay with that?�

�With what?�

�The fact that you�re just a job.�

�I don�t know. It�s nice to know that your motivations are kind of normal, you know? On the other hand, it was kind of nice thinking you were, you know� doing this because you were some System-gifted Companion, my very own Tinker Bell.�

�Tinker Bell?�

�Spirit,� I say, hiding my smile by ducking underneath a tree branch.

�Well, I�m System-bound to not harm you,� Ali points out.

�You�ve mentioned.� I fall silent again, letting my feet carry me deeper into the zone.

Seemingly satisfied, Ali turns back to his viewing.

After a time, I say softly, �You know, it was kind of nice.�

�Not your Tinker Bell.�

�Talking. We don�t do much of that,� I say.

�I take it back. Be less Queer Eye.�

�Asshole.�

The Carcross Cutoff is no different than the last time I was here. I look around the location once more, scratching my chin as I walk through the rooms. I pull a beer from the fridge as I think about what to do. I could upgrade the fort, make it even stronger and more defensible, but that makes no sense. I don�t have the means or the people to take care of the place and really, no desire. A fort, at the end of the day, is a facility for an organization or a city, not a holding for one person. Costs that wouldn�t even be a line-item for a larger organization are a major investment for me.

Looking around the place one last time, I mentally make myself give it up. I�ll pick it up if it�s available, I�ll keep an eye on it, but at the end of the day, it just isn�t for me. Learning to let things go, things that I can�t affect or in the end don�t matter, is important. It�s not an easy thing to do and just saying you intend to do it isn�t really a solution, but it�s the best I can do.

Walking out of the fort, I leave it unlocked. Let someone else struggle for it. It�s time for me to focus on what I can change, what I can affect.

�Ali, map,� I call to the Spirit.

He flicks his hand and I look over the information he�s given me, searching for clusters and Bosses. Mostly to avoid the last, but you never know. Charting my path for the day, I realize I�m going to be closing in on Carcross for the largest and most numerous clusters. They weren�t joking when they said they needed help dealing with the growing monster population.

Well, thinking isn�t going to get me there. One nice thing about the System is that I don�t even have to start at a jog to warm up. So long as I keep an eye on my stamina consumption, I�m good. Slipping into high gear immediately, I run toward the closest dot. Time to go hunting.

�Go right,� Ali says suddenly.

It�s been a couple of hours of hunting and killing, moving from one monster to another, but the urgency in his voice has me perking up. I move automatically, scanning for dangers.

�I�ll patch you in,� he says.

�We need more people over at Wall 2. They won�t stop coming��

�Jason, marker 3. Ice storm.�

�Autogun 3 is down. I repeat, Autogun 3 is down!�

�If anyone can hear us, please. We need your help!�

Quest received: Save Carcross!

Save the city from the monster swarm. Destroy or drive away the monster swarm before they kill all the survivors in Carcross. Note that experience during this event for monster kills will be reduced.

Reward: 50,000XP(shared)

Type: Unique

The voices cut off in my helmet and I find myself speeding up, going from a fast jog to a full sprint. I turn on Thousand Steps for the speed boost, feeling myself grow just slightly lighter. Faster. I have to get there faster.

�What�s happening?�

�Monster swarm,� Ali says. �Too many Bosses, too many monsters. The lower-level bosses and their kind finally get pushed out and swarm the next zone down. Those monsters then swarm the next one and so forth...�

�So not an attack?� I duck under a pine tree branch, wishing for once that running was easier. Even cutting a straight line and plowing through smaller obstacles, a forested hill isn�t exactly fast running. Then again, maybe I should be glad it isn�t a damn jungle.

�Not a direct attack,� Ali confirms.

I grimace. Well, that�s good, because the swarm of gray, yellow, and green dots is bad enough as it stands. Now that he�s mentioned it, I can see the movement, the way the swarm is packed on one side and more dispersed in others. They�re still attacking, probably because monsters are stupid and aggressive, but they aren�t pressuring the walls in a coordinated maneuver.

�Time,� I growl and Ali lets out a sigh.

A few seconds later, a timer appears in the top right of my heads-up-display in my helmet, counting down how long it�ll take to arrive. Thirty-four minutes and change. That�s an eternity in a fight.

For a time, the fight seems very one-sided. The shields must be holding, the defenders able to pick off and kill monsters without danger. It doesn�t last though. At the nine-minute mark, blue dots, friendlies, flash out at the wall, one by one. I don�t ask for the radio (or whatever they were) transmissions again. I don�t need to hear it�the little dots tell their story more than sufficiently. At five minutes left, the swarm of monster dots suddenly appears behind the now-sparse blue line. The flood of colorful dots stops, frozen and boiling for a minute as more blue dots appear to face the tide, monster dots disappearing to be replaced by ever more. Then a blue dot disappears in the center and the tide floods the streets before they suddenly freeze again at another line.

Two minutes later, I realize that the timer is going to be off. I can�t run in a straight line anymore, can�t afford to completely dodge my attackers. I don�t have time to shoot with my rifle, so I�m cutting at anything that gets close and shooting targets in front of me with my beam pistol. I cut off the Thousand Steps, conserving my Mana because I know I�m going to need it in a second�in fact, I grab a potion out of my inventory and down it to speed up my Mana regeneration. Best to get this going now when I have time.

The second, hastily improvised line breaks, and monster dots flood through the new gaps into the city proper. Ali is floating above me, flying back and forth and drawing attention to create the gaps I need to keep running. Cutting across the corner of the city to get to the break through, I feel my lips pull into a wolfish grin, blood pounding in my ears as adrenaline courses through my body.

Monsters in all shapes and sizes flash by me, most of them, but not all, mutated Earth creatures. A brown pod that travels on a trio of spiky legs rears up, facing me with its single eye that begins to glow. I duck low and slide as it unleashes a beam of fire at where I was. I cut off a leg as I slide pass, my sword sliding through muscle and bone without catching. Once past the monster, I push off and keep running.

I crest a small hill, shoulder-checking the Ice Elk in my way and sending it crashing down among the other monsters, giving myself a moment of peace to evaluate what I see before me. A giant, stone-encrusted Grizzly Bear lies in the breach in the wall, its corpse offering sufficient space for other monsters to scramble into the town. Only the corpse itself stops the swarming, squirming horde from entirely overrunning the town.

�Ali, Lightning Special!� I hold up my hand, summoning my magic.

The little Spirit flies to me, sliding in front of my arm to join hands seconds after my lightning bolt unleashes. As always, I feel the magic change when he joins me, his greater Elemental Affinity enhancing and twisting the lightning bolt I unleash.

This is where the Lightning Strike spell shines. The longer I channel the spell, the more monsters the spell strikes, jumping from monster to monster and spreading out. I sweep my hand from side to side, ensuring that the electricity catches the monsters swarming the walls. Most of them are under Level 20, but their sheer numbers have overwhelmed the defenses.

Dressed in my one-piece armored suit, full-faced helmet on and weapons holstered, I sling lightning like a crazed wizard on crack on the hill, burning through monsters without care about my Mana. Unfortunately, I can only face one direction at a time and that means my back is exposed. I get swarmed in a minute, a striped black-and-white ex-housecat clamping its jaws around my shoulder as a feral wolverine chews on my ankle. I crash into the ground and trigger the QSM, sliding away from the monsters.

I dance aside, firing my pistol into the housecat�s head as I turn off the QSM. Point blank, the pistol burns the monster�s eye away and blinds the other, though the creature continues to thrash around. I kick it away, sending the body sprawling amongst others, where it is torn apart.

Ali is no longer floating, sitting on the ground and panting as a Frost Raven attempts to peck him to death. I take off running, heading into the scorched earth and the gap in the wall. I duck, dodge, and fight my way through the few monsters that still live, racing against the tide to get to the gap before them, ignoring the pain and slowly accumulating injuries as stray spikes, bolts, and other projectiles rain down on me.

I leap onto the bear corpse and run forward to a relatively flat portion of its neck. Ahead of me, more monster corpses. Dozens of them are burnt, frozen, and smashed apart before the second improvised earth wall. Right in front of the wall is a series of all-too-human figures, including Jason�s mom. Dead, holding the tide back for a few minutes. Just a few minutes for her son and her city.

I turn, taking station on the relatively flat portion of the bear�s neck, and call forth my sword before downing a health regeneration potion. I watch as what looks like hundreds of monsters rush forward, all of them coming for the gap and me.

Her life, for a few minutes for others. I stand there, watching the horde come, and I find myself smiling, that sea of rage inside me churning. Time to buy a few more minutes.

A subjective lifetime later, I stand amidst a sea of corpses and blink the sweat out of my eyes. A swipe and my helmet retracts, letting me wipe the sweat away at last. Rage subsides, frenzy ended, and I find myself assaulted by pain. I collapse, hand on the ground as I breathe slowly, the glowing red of my lifebar in the corner of my eyes.

Minutes that seem like hours later, I have enough Mana to cast a healing spell. And then another before I can stand straight. I stare at the shredded pieces of my armor and pull it into my inventory before sliding on a new set of clothing as Gadsby limps over to me. Behind him, his hunting group spreads out to kill the last of the monsters, a pair standing watch over the breach.

�John. Thank God you were here.� He claps me on the shoulder and I wince, feeling the newly healed bone creak in pain. Gadsby flushes slightly then looks at the corpses strewn about, whistling. �Damn, you did one hell of a job.�

�Not me.� I shake my head. �I got here late.� Like you, a snide and vengeful part of my mind adds. Not the truth though�in fact, it was the arrival of Gadsby and his hunting group from outside the city that had finally broken the damn swarm, forcing them to flee. �Most of this was from the defenders.�

�I should check inside,� Gadsby says.

I nod, falling into step with him and heading into town, sword held loosely as I search for stragglers. �Ali, loot please.�

�Oh, great. I get to do all the hard work now,� Ali grumbles but sets to it, flying over to each body and looting it.

We don�t bother with my Altered Space. It was two-thirds full before I got here, and Carcross has its own butchering yard after all. I do pause at the gap to touch the Grizzly, filling the rest of the storage with its body so that we can enter the town easier. Almost as soon as we step in, one of Gadsby�s men casts an Earth Wall spell, filling the gap.

Inside, the town is buzzing with activity. Workers�freed from hiding�move corpses and work to fix the damage, eyes bleak when they come across the infrequent bodies of their protectors. In the crescent where Melissa made her last stand, the corpses are piled thicker. Jason stumbles forward from within the town, rushing over to the pile. He pulls aside his mother�s corpse while Gadsby and I stand there, useless.

�Jason?� Gadsby says and gets no answer. He places a hand on Jason�s shoulder and still gets no response. He tries calling his name again but still getting nothing. Looking up, he casts a worried glance deeper into the town.

�Go. I�ll sit with him,� I tell Mike.

He has other responsibilities after all. Me? I can spend the time watching over the kid. Gadsby nods in thanks before heading into town. Within a few steps, questions are already being called to him as others look to him for leadership. In the relative silence around us, I take a seat on the ground, content to let my body slowly heal.

�I had to do it,� Jason breaks the silence with a whispered confession. �She told me to.�

I glance at him then at the crescent of the earth wall and nod. No surprise that it was their most powerful mage who created their hasty line of defense. �Okay.�

�We�d planned for it. Just in case you know, just because. Well, she was always planning, you know. She said if they ever got through the shield and the wall, we�d need to hold them. Keep them from coming in farther, throw up another wall. Mum knew about my spell, had me test it out once,� he rambles as he stares at his mother, the numerous wounds across her body making it impossible to tell what eventually killed her. �When they were about to break in, she told me she�d be the one to hold it. Told me to do it, so I did. She was supposed to jump out after that. Get away. But they caught her, crippled her. I didn�t have enough Mana. I couldn�t save her.�

I nod dumbly, uncertain of what to say. What can you say? Sorry your mom is dead? Sorry you had to put up a wall behind her and let her die? I don�t know what there is to say, but I have to say something. �She knew the risks.�

�I couldn�t save her.� He sobs, his voice growing strained as he attempts to hold back tears. �I should have saved her.�

�You did your best.�

�It wasn�t good enough,� Jason cries out, shaking his head as he stares at the body, tears flowing. �I screwed up. I couldn�t...�

�You tried.� My heart threatens to break watching him, but I push it aside. No time, not now. I squeeze his shoulder hard until he finally looks up at me. My voice grows hard as I stare at him. �It wasn�t your fault.�

He pushes at my arm, trying to budge it, and I let him. �Then whose it is?�

�The System. The Council.� My voice trembles with the rage I always feel when I think of them. �You and your mom, you guys are just trying to survive. You didn�t ask for this, you didn�t choose it. This isn�t your fault.�

He closes his eyes, tears continuing to stream. He grabs his feet, hiding his face behind his knees as he sobs, �I didn�t want her to die.�

�I know.� I fall silent, listening to him cry and shooing others off.

Gods, I hate this fucking System.

Later, when he�s calmed down a little, we take her body out of the compound to their old house. Its windows are broken, the doors shattered and the garden churned up. Together, we place her in it, then we walk out and Jason sets the entire building on fire.

We watch it burn as others come by to spend some time with Jason, to offer their condolences and their support. Few spend much time with him though�his is not the only loss. We stay till the house is burnt down, then I walk him back and feed him Apocalypse Ale till he crashes. After that, I tuck him into bed. A part of me wonders where that blonde is, the one who grabbed him before, but another part of me figures it�s not my business.

Outside, I find Gadsby and Elder Badger directing the group in cleanup. The wall is fixed, the shields back up for now, but there are more things that need to be done.

�How bad is it?� I ask as I walk up.

�We lost fourteen of our primary fighters, including Melissa. About another two dozen others. Her loss�� Gadsby shakes his head, brown eyes filled with grief. �I shouldn�t say this, but losing her with her Levels�that was the worst.�

I nod in understanding. A single high-level fighter can do significantly more damage than multiple low-level fighters. Worse, Carcross has a much lower population and they were particularly top heavy in their Levels, having over-relied on their main fighters for defense. Andrea looks back to where I came from, her face tense with concern that etches lines deeper into her face.

�How is he?� Andrea asks, her voice filled with concern and weariness.

�Asleep. He�ll need someone to watch out for him.�

They nod.

�We know. It�s not as if we haven�t had experience at this,� Andrea says, her voice tinged with regret.

�It isn�t safe out here. You need more fighters, more defenses,� I say, feeling as if I�m stating the obvious. I probably am, but if I don�t say it, I�ll regret it later.

�Yes. We�ll� talk about it,� Andrea says, sharing a meaningful glance with Mike. I don�t get it, but that�s okay, so long as they�re thinking about it. �Thank you, John. Again.�

�Eh, it�s fine.� I wave away her gratitude, staring into the night.

I shut my eyes then open them again�an older blonde lying on dirt among blood and guts floats into my mind. Rage boils in me, warring with grief. I can�t do this right now. Not the people, not the gratitude. I don�t say anything as I walk away, heading for the exit.

There are monsters out there that still need killing.

Chapter 9

By the time I got back to Whitehorse, it was the evening of the next day. Even with my ridiculous Constitution, I�d crashed right after eating, resting up after pushing myself. I missed the funerals in Carcross, which was fine�I�ve been to enough of them to last me a lifetime. When I woke up, I found a small note of thanks and a big bar of chocolate from Rachel. Ali had already drunk through his gratitude. The only other thing I had was a note from Capstan to meet them at their compound.

Compound. Sounds like a such a defensive, scary word, doesn�t it? Unfortunately, that�s what we have forced the Yerick to build in their own portion of the city, after we burnt down the existing human buildings. A walled compound with watchtowers and a passive defensive shield that watched for intruders.

Perhaps most surprising are the buildings in the compound itself. Or maybe I should say building, since everything is connected via shaded walkways on the ground and in the air, broken up only by a series of open air, grassy courtyards. The buildings themselves are filled with graceful lines and have a tendency to make me feel a little small, what with their doorways being at least twelve feet high and ceilings a good twenty feet up, with a minimum of three stories in each portion. I let my eyes wander, drinking up the information while I consider how much to let the Hakarta know of this. I�m sure they�ll be interested, but as always, I�ve got to balance my utility to them with the security of the city. Well, most of this looks pretty standard so it�s likely nothing I can say here would be surprising.

The Yerick at the gates let me in without comment and direct me to wait in the square ahead. A cynical, paranoid part of me notes that this first square has a number of windows looking into it, windows which have armored shutters and what look like portable shield ports. There are also only two exits from this location, even if I can see the walkways ahead of me. I�d place good Credit on there being shield generators in front of those exits, ready to be triggered in the event of an attack.

Right now, the square is filled with Yerick children and a lone human child playing tag. Of course, the tagger is a Bounding Rabbit, a Level 1 monster that is certainly not playing in its attempts at child homicide. However, the adults who watch over the group look entirely relaxed, including, surprisingly, Miranda LaFollet, human councilor.

I frown, eventually deciding to speak with the only other human here. �Miranda?�

�Mr. Lee.� LaFollet�s French-Canadian accent makes it hard to understand her, as always.

�Is that safe?� I ask, and she shakes her head, lips twisting wryly. �Then�?�

�Why am I letting my son participate?� Miranda�s lips thin, her eyes darkening with worry. �Do you know that the Yerick train their children from young? They play tag with monsters, play �steal the eggs� with blinded cockatrices, and adults conduct weekly hunts with their children. They aren�t the only ones too�a number of other Council races train their children from a young age. The Hakarta are very similar in their methods. The Truinnar are even more harsh.�

�No CPS then?� I say.

�They do it because they believe, all of them do, that hiding their children from the realities of the System is tantamount to abuse,� Miranda says, her hand clenching. �I lost his father because we weren�t ready. We, I, hated violence. I thought it was barbaric to hit your child, to hunt for your meat. I still do. For the world before the System, it was wrong. But we don�t live in that world anymore. And I won�t lose my son.�

As we speak, a Yerick child, a small ball of fluff and anger, slips as he dodges. The Rabbit smashes into him, and the sharp crack of a broken bone resounds through the square. I begin to move but am caught by Miranda, her head shaking slightly. Even as the Rabbit spins, getting ready to finish his downed opponent, another child darts forward and smacks it on the nose with a stick. While the Rabbit�s attention is diverted, another pair of children, including Miranda�s son, grab the fallen youngster who is gamely keeping his face straight. Working together, they drag him to the corner where a bored-looking teenager waits. In defiance of my expectation though, no healing spell is used. The child is forced to sit and wait for his System-assisted body to fix the damage.

�Harsh,� I murmur, watching the scene, and Miranda nods.

�Not really. Kid�s in no danger and the teenager has a healing spell. He�ll be back playing in minutes,� Ali says into my mind. �The Yerick might be a bit more rustic in their approach, but she�s right. Most races adopt some form of childhood training.�

�I�m going to push that we begin such training soon. That the Yerick help us with it,� Miranda says, her eyes flashing in determination.

�What� what does Fred think of this? And Minion?�

�They think it�s stupid. Foolish.� She shakes her head, her voice growing firmer. �Fred wants us to go back to what the world was. Wants it to be safe again for his child. He wants everything back to what it was. Eric� Eric is single. He always has been.�

I nod and fall silent. I have nothing to add. I have no power in the Council, no say in this. I am relieved of the duty of speaking further when Capstan exits a building, waving to me.

�Got to go.�

�Yes. Goodbye, Mr. Lee.� As I hurry off to join Capstan and his team for our next dungeon run, I hear her murmur, �Next time, finish the job.�

I make sure not to let on that I heard her. I really don�t need any encouragement.

�Nope. Not a chance. I�m out,� I repeat, backing away from the ledge.

We�re standing in Miles Canyon, a canyon carved by the Yukon River a few kilometers outside of Whitehorse and just a few hundred meters away from the pedestrian suspension bridge. It�s one of the prettiest spots in the Yukon, a beautiful location that was quite popular with tourists due to its accessibility and the picturesque canyon walls and glacial water. Standing on the cliff edge, I feel the breeze on my skin, carrying the smell of fresh pine and clean, cold glacial water to me.

�It�s not that bad,� Aron says.

I look once more past our feet, where the river widens significantly into a nearly circular lake before narrowing again as it flows to Whitehorse. Right in the center, there�s a new whirlpool, the water swirling deep into darkness. That�s where they want me to jump.

�Not happening.� I shake my head, stepping away. �I know your scouts found this dungeon recently, but I�m not doing it.�

Capstan frowns, tilting his head, then gestures to the water again. �The dungeon is within a Level 20 zone. It is unlikely to be of significant difficulty.�

Arms crossed, I say, �Don�t care. Not going in.�

�That is, of course, your choice.� Capstan shrugs, gesturing to the others to get ready.

They move to the cliff�s edge, strapping on their scuba gear while leaving the additional gear aside for me. My lips tighten as I watch them.

�So there is something you�re scared of,� Ali says.

�Fuck off. I just really don�t like the water.�

I shiver as a memory flashes through my mind. Water entering my mouth and chest as my friend and I claw at each other. Neither of us able to swim and both of us in the deep end of the pool by accident. No bottom that I could touch, no air that I could breathe. I shut my eyes, a sliver of fear escaping its coiled confines. I push it aside, forcing my breathing to settle, and I open my eyes again.

�Well, it�s a good thing you aren�t going in. It�ll give me a new story to tell,� Ali says, and I snort. Seeing his goading isn�t working, Ali adds, �To Luthien.�

�I know what you�re doing and it isn�t working. I know you don�t talk to her.�

�True, true. I do have Minion�s contact information though. And Richard�s. And Lana. And Roxley�s,� Ali continues, and I glare at him.

�Really? You think this is going to work? Threatening me with shame?� I growl, turning to face him as anger spills out.

�Why not? You don�t like having your� face, was it? taken away. This should do quite well,� Ali points out with that smirk that makes me want to beat him into a pulp.

�Fuck you, you spineless little twerp. I�m going to fucking banish you,� I shout, my hands moving to dismiss him.

�Sure, boy-o. And while you�re doing that, why don�t you buckle on your gear and get going, you big baby,� Ali adds.

Finger hovering over the dismiss button, I realize he�s right. I�m way too angry to be scared. At least not right now, and not if I� if I stop thinking, making myself move and strap on the equipment. The Yerick stare at me as I slap on the facemask then take a running leap, jumping directly at the whirlpool before the rest of my brain catches up.

�I hate you!�

I hate the water. I hate the water. I hate the water. Even if I was taught to swim later, even if I know I won�t drown, I still hate it. It�s entirely irrational, and while I can fight through it, I still hate it. It makes my chest tighten, my breathing come shorter, and my adrenaline spike.

Funny thing though�you�d think that having razor-teeth fish and squid-humanoid hybrids trying to kill me would make this my worst nightmare. It�s actually the opposite. At least fighting them, I have something to distract me. So what if one of them has pinned me in the side with a stinger? Or that the fish are swarming me, tearing chunks of flesh from my body? It�s all good�I�m not thinking about how I�m not entirely sure where up is. Or where the Yerick are. Or why I�m doing this.

Also, something new and fun to note. Lightning Strike is very, very effective at clearing your surroundings in the water. Of course, you and your friends end up a little crispy too and you get shouted at a lot for doing it, but that�s just details. If they didn�t like me using the Spell, they shouldn�t have invited me down here.

That�s really all I�m going to say about underwater dungeons. I�m never, ever going back into one, no matter how good the loot is.

�John?� Richard finds me later that evening, sitting outside in the garden at home with a very large keg of beer and a big bowl of chocolates, ice cream, and braised short ribs.

�Richard!� I wave hi to him before refilling my mug. Yes, I�m indulging myself. No, I�m not getting piss-blind drunk. It�d take Apocalypse Ale to do that, and I�ve avoided drinking it because, well, my sense of control is shaky at best most days. On the other hand, this amount should get me a bit of a buzz.

�You okay?� He looks over my sprawled form and the various pets that have gathered around me, waiting for the bones I discard. While technically short ribs, the mutated pieces of beef are nearly a foot long each.

�Oh, I�m great. Just great. Just completed another dungeon. It was so much fun,� I drawl while Ali snorts, busy on his own meal.

�Yeah� okay.� Richard slowly sits down on a lawn chair next to me. �Which dungeon?�

�Miles Canyon. It�s an underwater dungeon. Real pretty, you know, with all that freezing glacial water and carnivorous fish. Did you know that there are fucked up mermen in the dungeon?� I grin widely, waving a rib at Richard. �Want some?�

�No, I�m good,� Richard says. �So� you partying with the Yerick now?�

�Why is everyone so interested in that?� I complain after I swallow, waving the rib around to make my point. �I like them. All they want to do is fight and kill and get sweet, sweet loot. It�s real easy.�

�I see.�

�Yeah, we clear all the dungeons we find. We�re getting a bunch of bonuses for completing them first too.� I burp slightly. �But we�re nearly done now. Then I guess I�ll be back soloing� unless you guys know of any.�

�A few,� Richard answers. �We were hoping you�d come with us to try to clear them actually.�

�Me? And you?� I frown, staring at Richard. �You sure you trust me not to go crazy?�

�John, you were strangling a man to death!� Richard snaps.

�Yeah, but he was an asshole.�

�You still don�t do that shit, man,� Richard says, voice growing angry. �That�s not what heroes do.�

�Who says I�m a hero?�

�No one. But I�m not standing by watching you do that.�

�Oooh, you�re so fine and perfect, aren�t you?� I snap, anger flaring.

�You asshole��

�Enough already!� Ali shouts, waving. �Oh my god. You girls are worse than Sooki and JWOWW. Get over yourselves!�

�Shut up,� we chant in unison at the Spirit.

�Bite me. You lost control, boy-o. You know it. And you, pretty boy, you could have tried something a little more useful than fighting. What�s the point of all that Charisma if you aren�t using it? Outside of bedding women,� Ali says.

I glare at the Spirit, anger flashing in my eyes. On the other hand, he is right. I know he is. I just� ugh.

I finally say, �Are they in the water?�

�No, not at all,� Richard mutters.

�I�m in then. Sure. No water dungeons though, nope. No water dungeons. Don�t like them.� I frown, touching my head with the hand that still clutches the stripped rib. �I�m feeling a bit� off.�

�Yeah, funny thing about that. I can actually alter your Resistances a bit,� Ali says and points at me.

�Oh� so I�m drunk?� I blink. I frown, raising my hand to cast a Healing Spell. I twitch my fingers, Mana flowing then shorting as I mess up the incantation, pain flaring. �Oops��

�Maybe you shouldn�t be casting a spell right now,� Richard says. �Come on, let�s get you into your bed.�

�No. No,� I snarl, anger spilling out, and I find myself shouting at Ali. �Don�t do that. Don�t ever do that. I don�t like being drunk. I don�t get drunk. I don�t like losing control.�

�Sorry.� Ali shrinks back, a hand flickering slightly. �I thought I was helping. I�ve changed it back.�

I nod, slumping back into the chair again, anger draining away as quickly as it came. Richard lets out a breath of relief next to me. The animals slowly relax too, fur no longer bristling as the threat passes.

�Just don�t do that. I don�t want to get drunk, I just want to relax, damn it.�

�Okay.� Ali stares at me for a moment longer before he slowly relaxes too.

�John,� Richard starts again, concern etching his face, �are you really okay?�

�I�m good. I�m good.� I exhale, tossing the bone aside and reaching for my mug. I pause and change directions to grab some chocolate from the bowl. �I just� it wasn�t a good day. I�m fine though.�

�Okay,� Richard relents, staying seated. After a time, he grabs a rib and chews on it.

We eat in silence for a while, the fog in my brain slowly clearing.

�You know, these Dungeons have been appearing more and more often,� he says.

�I know. Not much we can do about it. Clearing the Bosses helps reduce the incidence, but they�re still going to appear. All we can do is try to contain them, clear them enough that they don�t start spilling out and overrunning us.�

Richard sighs then glances sideways at me, sipping on his own beer. �Sorry by the way. About, you know, all that shit.�

�Whatever. Shit happens. That�s our life now, isn�t it? Shit happens.� I stare at my hand, shaking my head slowly. �I�m over it. Have to be, don�t I? We�ve got more shit to kill.�

�That�s�� Richard shakes his head as he decides not to tackle the giant signs of denial I�ve posted. �You going to join us for our dungeons then?�

�I said I would, didn�t I?� I sigh. �I can�t tackle them, not by myself. Some, sure. But most, especially the uncharted ones, the ones deeper�it�s just not possible. Not at my Level anyway.�

�All right then.� Richard falls silent, and I join him in quiet contemplation and eating.

�Why do you do it?� I ask suddenly, tossing the latest bone into the distance to watch the puppies rush for it. �I mean, Mikito�s all about revenge. Me, I�m just angry and stupid. You, you�re a bit more, you know, normal. Yet you keep heading out just like the rest of us, killing and maiming.�

�Thanks, I think.� Richard pauses before saying, �It�s stupid. You�ll laugh.�

�Yeah, probably. I�ve got a fucked up sense of humor. Ask Minion.�

�Not funny.�

�A little funny,� Ali says.

�Spider-Man,� Richard finally says.

�Uhh�?�

�When I was a kid, my father used to have these old Spider-Man comics around. Read them from cover to cover. I, well� when this happened, I just wanted to get safe at first, get Lana safe. But then I started seeing that not everyone had a fighting class. Not everyone could go out, or would go out. I-I needed, I wanted to be better.�

�With great power comes great responsibility?� I�m not a giant geek, but I lived with one and the movies were fun. And yeah, I�ve read a few comic books in my time.

�Yeah. Told you it was stupid.� Richard shrugs.

I consider what he said for a moment, staring at the man before I smile slightly, guzzling down the last of the beer. �Yup, stupid.�

�Asshole.�

�Yup.�

�Seriously?� I mutter the next day, walking behind Aron and Tahar as they tear through this newly discovered dungeon.

�Not all dungeons will be dangerous,� Capstan points out as we walk along.

A hare manages to get past the pair in front and he casually flicks a stone at it. The empowered pebble rips a hole through the Level 5 monster and drops it to the ground. The creatures are no larger than a normal-sized animal, but they�re faster with barbed fur. Their major mode of attack is to rush you and run across your body, their fur gripping and tearing off strips of flesh. I bend down and loot the corpse before tossing the body into my Altered Space.

�Ugh,� I grumble as we continue through the giant burrow.

At least I find walking easier than the Yerick, who have to crouch as they walk. Ali�s ahead of us all, guiding the front pair, his tiny orange-clad body shining with light.

After a time, I talk to just fill the silence. �Why�d you come here?�

�This dungeon probably would not last. Another monster would clear it for us. Best for us to do it and get the experience,� Capstan points out, and I nod, accepting his point.

What will and won�t be permanent is still very much in the air right now. I brighten up as I realize that might mean the dungeon in Miles Canyon could disappear. On the other hand�

�Not really what I meant. I mean, why Earth? Why Whitehorse?� I clarify.

�Dungeon Worlds are where we thrive,� Capstan says, glancing at me. �You know of our history?�

�A bit,� I say.

�The Yerick were introduced to the System five hundred or so of your years ago. We were always few in number and we had not progressed much in technology. Not like some of the other civilizations.� Capstan absently grabs a hare that jumps at him, killing the creature before tossing the looted body to me to store. �We did not adapt well. Some of my people refused the System. Others fought the invaders. Eventually, all those who refused the System died. All that were left were those who embraced the System. By then, it was too late. We had lost our leaders, our builders, our artists. All we had left were our fighters.

�We needed Credits, we needed places of safety. All we could do was to hire ourselves out to work as Adventurers. We found we were good at it. In time, that�s what we became. A world of Adventurers. At least, most of us.�

I nod slowly, wondering if that was to be humanity�s future. We�ve already lost so many�how long before we could grow again, live again?

�As for why Whitehorse�� Capstan looks me over. �I am unsure you will find the explanation satisfactory.�

�Try me.�

�We came because Lord Roxley asked,� Capstan explains simply, and I frown. Seeing my expression, he continues. �There is much of this world, of this System you do not understand still. Lord Roxley is not what you consider a typical Truinnar. What he has done for the city, how he has managed it, is unusual. Among the Council or the Truinnar in particular.�

�Oh?�

�Most others who have arrived have been much more� forceful in their acquisition. More direct in their introduction of Galactic Law.� Capstan�s placid brown eyes darken, his voice coming out as a low rumble. �The Yerick have experienced the yoke of Galactic Law before. Indentured service for many is no better than slavery.�

I nod slowly. It doesn�t take a genius to realize what Capstan means. It�d be a simple enough thing for Roxley to charge us for the use of his guards while Whitehorse was desperate. To charge us rent for the safe zones he�s provided, increase the tax on the Shop until we were indebted to him constantly. Raise the interest rates on the loans he made to us, charge us late fees when we couldn�t pay, and dictate all payments be made in Credits. Humanity had a ton of history with things like that. Still, I can see why he didn�t. We�ve done slavery and it doesn�t work, not when you need people with knowledge and skills. At least, not efficiently. Then again, sometimes efficiency isn�t everything.

�Are you coming?� Nelia turns toward us, stamping her foot.

Realizing we�ve fallen behind, Capstan and I focus on picking up the loot. Still, what he said has left me with some serious food for thought.

Chapter 10

A week later, we�re finally done with all the dungeons we�ve found. With the Yerick, I�ve cleared a total of five dungeons, of which at least three will be permanent. I�ve even managed to gain first clear bonuses for four of them, pushing my Level up another step. Working with the Yerick has been quite relaxing overall. Since I�m not a front-line fighter with them, I don�t take as much damage and I need to replace my armor a lot less. About halfway through, I made enough Credits to fix Sabre up if I wanted to. However, on consideration, I�ve left her with Xev for a series of upgrades. A lot of the material we need will take a few months to arrive via �regular� delivery rather than picking it up direct from the Shop, so for now, Sabre just sits cooling her heels.

Interesting fact�while it�s possible to teleport via the System, most commerce is actually done by spaceships. The cost of porting goods is significant, so using freighters and automated delivery ships helps reduce the cost of transportation. That�s what makes people like Xev more competitive than getting the Shop to just �fix� everything. Paying through the Shop, amusingly enough, usually means hiring smart Shopkeepers using a combination of teleportation, rush contracts, and time dilation to allow products to be fixed. Or in a few cases, just swapped out entirely.

Finding ourselves done with the dungeons, the Yerick go back to �farming� the dungeons and hunting raid bosses. I am not invited along though. I have a feeling it�s more because they want me to go hunting for more dungeons for them to raid than because they don�t like me.

What I don�t mention to them is that I�m going dungeon delving with Mikito and Richard instead. Which leads me to today, standing outside my house, waiting for Richard to detach his lips from his latest lady.

�We good to go?� I grumble, leaning against the truck. Damn it, it�s been months since I�ve gotten laid. I know it�s my fault but still�

�We�re waiting�oh, there they are!� Richard nods down the street.

I blink as Aiden and Amelia drive up on a pair of quads. As usual, both quads make no noise at all since they run off the installed Mana engines and batteries, though I�m pretty sure their weaponry wasn�t part of the dealer package. Amelia�s quad has a pair of smaller rifles, each on their own mount, while Aiden has gone for a series of rocket tubes strapped to the side of his quad. I guess heavy weaponry is the new fad post-Apocalypse. I bet road rage has a whole new meaning.

�Hey, toots,� Ali greets the pair, looking at Aiden and his manbun.

As always, Aiden just ignores Ali. I�ve never actually hunted seriously with Aiden though we�ve run into one another on the training sessions. Hopefully, he�ll do fine � it�s one thing to deal with the low-level monsters that surround Whitehorse, another to fight Dungeon monsters. Then again, Richard and Mikito trust him, so I guess I�m going to have to too.

�You guys coming?� I nod to the pair before glancing back at Richard.

�You have any objections?� Richard asks as he gestures his pets onto the truck bed before personally carrying Elsa the fire-breathing pet turtle on board.

The huskies don�t bother the turtle as she settles into her usual spot. Mikito grips the edge of the truck bed before leaping in. Above us, Orel, Richard�s mutated eagle, perches on a chimney, waiting.

�Not at all. Amelia would make a great tank.� I grin.

�Your bike still not fixed?� Amelia asks.

�Not yet.�

�Let�s get going. It�ll take us an hour to drive there and at least another hour to hike in,� Richard says.

I nod, opening the passenger door and sliding in. Richard doesn�t take long before he guns the truck, taking us out of Whitehorse and further north. A brief explanation later and I touch my helmet, pulling up the appropriate communication channel.

�Before we reach the dungeon, let�s talk loot,� I say over the channel while watching out for potential trouble.

�What�s there to talk about?� Aiden�s voice comes clearly over the channel, his West Coast accent tinged with doubt. �We split everything evenly.�

�The Yerick actually use a different system. They give a bigger share to the tanks, the guys taking on the monsters directly, because they have to more stuff to replace. Seemed more fair, whether its potions or armor or just fixing up their weapons.� I detail my recent experience. �I actually thought it was quite appropriate. What do you think?�

�What�s the split?� Aiden asks, his tone doubtful.

I shrug. �I guess we should figure out who�s tanking. Amelia?�

�That�s what I do,� she answers. �How about Richard�s dogs?�

�Well, unless he�s changed recently, they�re mostly kept back a bit to hurt. They harass and deal with leakers so, like Mikito, they don�t really count as tanks,� I reply and get a confirming nod from Richard.

�Great, so we got Amelia as a tank and the rest of us dealing damage. Aiden, I�m assuming you�re our main spellcaster and healer?�

�Yup,� Aiden replies. �Most of my spells are actually support spells, so I�ll be casting them on all of you before we enter. I have a couple of damage dealing spells, but not much.�

I nod slightly, opening my mouth to clarify the split before Mikito speaks up. �John, you should tank too.�

I grunt, rubbing my neck, and nod. �Yeah, I can do that. If you guys don�t mind the pot being split three-fifths to the tanks and the rest among you three.�

�Okay.�

�Yes.�

�Uhh� sure,� Aiden adds last, his voice tinged with doubt.

�John�s a good chew toy. Even without Sabre, he�s very good at soaking up damage,� Mikito clarifies.

Ali smacks his forehead as he listens in on the conversation.

�Why would the bike help?� Amelia asks, and Mikito shuts up, silence hanging in the air. �Guys?�

�Sabre has a few tricks up her sleeve,� I finally answer, grimacing. Well, that cat is partly out of the bag.

�Look, lively people, we�ve got a pair of monkey-horses coming up,� Richard says.

I smile. Good timing, monkey-horse creatures.

�This is a dungeon?� I whisper as we peek over the hill, staring at the encampment laid out before us. A simple wooden wall surrounds a dozen thatched huts, the material for the buildings obviously taken from the surrounding countryside.

�I know, right?� Richard mutters and shakes his head. �Orel found them a week ago, and when he flew over, he got the notification that it was a dungeon.�

�What are those things?� I mutter to Ali, who�s crouched down low too surprisingly.

Beneath us, a small swarm of thin, green, and barely dressed creatures with long ears and big noses scramble around, carrying an array of melee weapons and crude rifles.

�Closest translation I�ve got for you is Goblins. In this case, it actually suits them. They�re... semi-sentient monsters created twenty thousand years ago by a rather mad individual. Give or take a few hundred years. They�re the cockroaches of the Galaxy,� Ali says. �Should be an easy job for you guys.�

�About that�� I frown, shaking my head. �We should report this to the others.�

Richard nods and we head back to where the group is hidden. At his command, the puppies spread out, watching over us as we talk.

Still, I keep my voice low. �So we�ve got a problem guys. Ali��

I gesture for him to explain about the Goblins.

Amelia frowns, shaking her head. �They have houses?�

�And a wall and a town square. That�s a village down there,� I mutter.

�What�s the problem?� Mikito says, leaning forward and pointing toward the hill. �They�re monsters. We kill monsters because if we don�t, they kill us.�

�Ali said they�re sentient. Maybe we can, you know, talk to them,� I answer. �I�m pretty sure I saw kids.�

�They�re monsters,� Richard says, shaking his head. �They might look human, but they�re not really. Anyway, they�re a dungeon, right, Ali? So they�re not really real either. Just something the System created.�

�Are any of us real anymore then? The System has changed me, you, your puppies drastically. What makes them any less real than you?� Aiden asks, growing intense.

�You siding with them now?� Richard says.

�No, but we should be clear that we are choosing to add to our karmic burden,� Aiden says, lips twisting under his goatee. �We might have no choice to kill to survive, but we must do so with eyes open.�

I do my best not to roll my eyes, though Ali doesn�t bother hiding his snickering.

Amelia shakes her head, crossing her arms. �I came to kill monsters, not little green men.�

�They�re not men. They�re Goblins. Little nasty fuckers who breed like rabbits and, if left unchecked, become a swarm. You don�t want a Goblin swarm. Trust me on this,� Ali says.

�I know what you�re saying, but killing sentients�� My doubt shows in my voice. Ever since I actually talked to Labashi, I�ve been getting occasional nightmares about the Hakarta I killed. Nothing that I can remember, just vague, unsettling memories upon waking. �They haven�t attacked us yet. They�re just living out here peacefully.�

�That�s because they haven�t seen you!� Ali growls. �Trust me, these guys will eat you, your mother, and your bike and ask for seconds.�

Mikito nods firmly. I continue to frown while Amelia keeps her arms crossed in support of me.

Richard rolls his eyes before he finally sighs. �So why don�t we have John try to talk to them then? Ali can translate, right?�

It isn�t that easy of course. As much as I think we should try talking to them, going in dumb is stupid. We plot and plan for half an hour before I finally find myself walking down the hill with Ali floating alongside and grumbling. I understand his reluctance�I�m not entirely happy about the idea either�but since I�m one of the ones protesting genocide, we get the chance to establish peaceful communication.

�Hello, the settlement,� I shout.

Thanks to Ali, my words come out as a weird clicking, grunting noise. Not that I needed to say anything to get their attention. A large number have already started clambering onto the walls, staring at me while wielding crude melee weapons. I shake my head, trying to imagine how anyone could be scared of a bunch of low-level monsters like these, even if they are sentient.

They say nothing, but since they see me, I figure the next step is theirs. Keeping my hands to the side, I walk forward and stop when I get the message.

Dungeon Located!

My nose can�t help but wrinkle as an errant gust brings the smell of unwashed bodies tinged with lemon, rotting garbage, and feces to me. Okay, step one in on-going relations, teaching these guys about soap and water.

�Boy-o,� Ali says worriedly, and my minimap flashes.

I look up and blink as what were a few gray dots have become a flood. �How the��

I never finish the thought because at an unspoken command, the Goblins open fire, launching a barrage of loud gunpowder slugs and arrows at me. As their attack arcs toward me, they splinter on an invisible barrier that flashes bright white. I snarl, dropping to a knee as I call forth a tower shield from my inventory. I drop it in front of my body as I channel a Lightning Strike spell in my free hand. Aiden�s single-use, short-lived spell, the Guardian�s Embrace, will protect against anything short of a dragon�s breath, but it only lasts a few seconds once activated. It�s his most powerful protective spell but it costs a ton of Mana, which is why he doesn�t use it often.

Even as the spell fades, I see gray dots rushing toward me, Goblins dropping over the wall in a wave. I ignore them, sticking my hand far enough around the shield to direct my spell at the range attackers. Lightning escapes my hand, its sudden appearance leaving behind the familiar pungent, almost chlorine smell of ozone. A blink of an eye and the lightning smashes into a Goblin on the wall. I continue to channel the spell, sweeping the wall and watching the lightning dance from body to body. As corpses fall, I cut off the spell and stand to meet the charging warriors. Now that they�re actually trying to kill me, I�m done dithering over the morality of this.

Behind the warriors, the gate has opened and more Goblins flood out, their four-foot-tall bodies spilling out as they try to close on me. As the first Goblin gets within a few feet of me, they fall back, small holes appearing in their bodies, accompanied by the hiss of fast-moving pellets. Standing to my side, firing in a classic two-handed pose, Amelia guns down the attackers with her modified Gauss pistol. Even as fast as she can shoot, the Goblins make it to me, the first launching itself at my shield to pull it aside for his friends.

As the monster reaches the peak of his jump, I pull the shield back into my inventory and let the Goblin meet my fist. A sickening snap of its neck accompanies the body flying backward into its compatriots before I counter-charge, calling forth my sword. I find myself grinning, killing the very creatures I was attempting to speak with. Truth be told, I�m glad they decided not to talk to me. This is so much simpler. Kill or be killed.

I dance through the monsters, blade appearing and disappearing as swords, pistols, maces, and axes flash around me. I�m no legendary swordsman, no impossible anime character, so I get cut, stabbed, and shot, each blow sapping just a little of my health. Sadly, it�s really hard to stack regeneration effects on an individual. Mostly, you can get away with a spell and a potion, or if you�re really good, two spells. Of course, I�ve also got my Skill, which helps as the creatures keep coming and coming.

As I spin a Goblin around by its arm, using it to clear some space before tossing him into his friends, I spot Amelia. Unlike me, she�s staying still in a single position, a sword in her off-hand. She continues to shoot and stab her enemies while a series of five glowing octagons swoop around her, blocking attacks with impunity. Her face is fixed with a look of grim determination as she fights, moving only when the bodies that pile up around her feet get too deep. Even with her Skill, attacks are sneaking in and she bleeds from a dozen different wounds. It won�t be long before she goes down, just like me.

For once, my little Spirit friend seems to be getting his hands dirty. No nasty spells or just floating in front of monsters, incorporeal. He�s swooping in and out, doling out Superman punches before swooping away. While he stays out of the majority of the fight, he still sports a bruise and a cut along one leg that bleeds blue light.

As good as we are, as high level as we are, the fact that we�re literally getting swarmed is beginning to tell. I slice apart a Goblin who�s latched onto my leg and backhand another trying to jump onto me, even as a third stabs into my collarbone with its dagger and hangs off my body while another drops a mace onto my foot. I snarl, spinning in a circle and loosing a Blade Strike that buys me a few moments, the blue cut of power ripping through Goblins. A few seconds to hear the screams and shouts from the other side of the field as the cavalry finally arrives.

The puppies and Mikito smash into the flank of the horde, their attacks ripping a giant hole into the swarm and relieving the pressure on us. Behind them, Richard fires his shotgun in pellet form, raking the archers and riflemen to keep their heads down. Aiden finishes casting a spell and the earth beneath the wall shifts, heaving and rippling in a mini-earthquake. The wall tears apart, its foundations turned to mud. I watch as he stands there, headphones on to drown out the noise, his face pained even as he begins casting another spell. Reluctant or not, Aiden is doing his job. Above, Orel swoops in to aid us, blades of wind slicing ahead of it as it banks.

�About damn time!� Ali shouts as he floats, finally letting go of the Goblin he hoisted into the air and dropping the monster onto its friends.

Freed for a moment to focus, I raise my hand and channel Lightning, playing it across the screaming Goblins. One after another they fall, twitching, then I�m running to help Amelia, hoping I�m not too late. The pile of Goblin bodies that mark where she fell erupts as I close in on it, reformed shields shoving aside Goblins. I breathe a sigh of relief, casting a quick healing spell on her as I absently cut another monster apart. Surprisingly, she isn�t as badly injured as I thought she would be after seeing her go down.

As the horde flees back into their settlement, broken by the sudden attack on their flanks, I pant in relief, Stamina quickly recovering. At least fifty bodies lie on the field before me, even more fleeing back, and untold numbers hidden underneath the collapsed walls. The puppies rush through the rout, biting and tearing apart Goblins with savage ease. As the creatures reach the wall, Mikito and the puppies pull back, returning to where Richard and Aiden eye the wall, joined soon by Amelia and me.

�I thought you said there was around twenty!� Aiden points out, pulling his headphones off his ears to hear my reply.

�That�s all we saw! What the hell, Ali?� I look at the Spirit, who blinks.

�What? We saw twenty, so of course there�re about four hundred Goblins.� At our incredulous expressions, Ali blinks. �My bad. I forgot you guys don�t know that one. It�s like your cockroaches�see a single cockroach, there�s about another twenty hidden. Goblins live underground mostly, so there�s always a lot more underneath.�

�And what, the most dangerous Goblins live at the bottom?� Amelia says incredulously.

�Don�t be stupid. Goblins like fresh air just like we do. The Chief and his guards live on the surface, the others beneath,� Ali replies.

�Four hundred.� Even Mikito looks a bit daunted by that number.

I can�t help but agree with her. Looking at the carnage around us, as blood cools and adrenaline leaves, a part of me feels sick. Blood, entrails, and limbs lay scattered all around, the fallen already rotting. A part of me wonders what kind of loot we could even get from this.

�Richard, you said there were about four or so that Orel saw a week ago?� I ask, and he nods.

I can see everyone doing the math. Four Goblins equals about eighty monsters. That�s another three hundred that appeared in a week. If left unchecked, these four hundred could become a few thousand in another week. No wonder they called them a horde.

�We started this. We need to finish it,� Richard�s voice grows firm as he gestures toward the settlement. �Ten minutes. We loot what we can, then we finish this.�

I draw in a deep breath, pushing aside my doubts and my nausea. He�s right. There�s a job to finish, and whatever I feel, whatever I think, we need to finish it before the Goblins truly become a threat. I reach for that ocean of anger, letting it rise and bathe me in its cleansing clarity. I bend down, touch the nearest Goblin, and pull up its loot. I flinch slightly as I stare at the ear that hangs in my hand.

Yeah, fuck you too, System. Fuck you too.

Dark warrens with ceilings barely five feet high at times filled with smoke and screams. Flashes of pain as Goblins drop from ceilings or crawl from unseen holes. Fire, thrown in close confines, forcing us to switch to gas masks and helmets. Occasionally, very powerful wind spells by Aiden.

Goblins charging us, again and again, until even Amelia is out of pellets and we�re all fighting hand-to-hand, death wherever we go. Monsters clambering over each other, swarming Mikito and bringing her down by the sheer weight of bodies to stab at her, again and again. The pain which I share with her during the attack as Richard punches, kicks, and smashes Goblins with his rifle, Shadow by his side.

Aiden, headset on to drown out the screams and cries, vomiting in the corner, none of us daring to ask if its Mana exhaustion or something else. A Goblin mother, clutching her child as an impromptu shield, using my moment�s hesitation to plunge her blade into my stomach. Richard forced to call Max back from eating a Goblin�s body.

Flashes of pain and death and brutality and finally, finally we�re done.

One last look, then I give the command, none of the others wanting to do it. Cobbled together and real explosives we placed next to magically weakened supports throughout the dungeon go off. At first, nothing happens beyond a small dust cloud and a tremor. Both grow as the ground collapses beneath the dungeon, the burrows burying the corpses and our memories.

When we leave, the only sign of the dungeon is a deep depression and a few scattered bodies for the ravens and other scavengers. No one says anything, faces drawn and haggard as we walk away, blood dripping from our armor.

Gods, I hate this damn System some days.

Chapter 11

�Minion.� My voice drips with scorn when I walk into the City Council�s offices.

After yesterday�s dungeon and today�s hunt, I figured it was about time I updated the Council�s map with my latest findings. I�ve been popping in every once in a while, letting them know of new monsters, new hazards, and the like. Most of the time, it�s Miranda or one of the many other workers in here. This time, it�s Minion.

�Mr. Lee.� Eric�s lips thin and a little part of me grins. Gods, but I really want to punch that face. Just seeing it makes my fist itchy. �What is your business today?�

�Map update.� I walk over to the table and reach for some paper. At Minion�s raised hands, I blink, then I remember a moment before the screen appears.

Eric Roth would like to share map data with you

(Y/N)

I really, really dislike Minion. Perhaps mostly because he�s just so damn efficient at being a bureaucrat. I agree and watch as he blinks, staring into space from my viewpoint. It only takes him a few moments before he nods, swinging his hand up to dismiss the screen.

�This Goblin dungeon, it�s gone?� he says.

�As gone as we can make it. Best to have someone swing by for the next little while, check it out. At least once every few days.�

He nods, making a note in the air. �Then we are done. Unless there is something else?�

�No.� I turn away then stop, turning back. �Why?�

�Why what, Mr. Lee?� Minion�s voice is cool as he stares at me.

�You know what,� I growl.

�And if I do not answer, you�ll beat it out of me? That�s the thing with you people, isn�t it? It�s all violence and anger, rage and destruction. You stomp through the city acting like you own it and maybe you do, but the rest of us have to pick up after you and your kind. You Adventurers, you�re just waiting for a chance to pick on us, push us around. Damn you all,� says Minion, his voice trembling. Catching himself at the end, he draws a deep breath.

I stare at the small man shouting at me, and I blink as it sinks in. �Adventurers� you hate the Yerick and me because we�re Adventurers?�

�You may leave, Mr. Lee,� Minion says.

�Wait a second. You hate me because I fight to survive? To keep all of us alive?� My voice rising, I stare at the man.

�Very well.� Eric turns and walks to the other office door. He shuts it behind him, leaving me staring at him.

I could have stopped him of course, but then I�d just be using violence to get my way. I shake my head, staring at door. Yeesh� some people.

�Quiet tonight,� I murmur, staring around the Nugget as I enter.

Ali nods and flits over to our usual table. We all needed a break after the Goblin dungeon, so the group split apart to do their own thing after we came back.

Richard, as far as I could tell, was in and around town, doing meetings and ladies in equal amounts. Aiden was back to his books, training and teaching, and I have a feeling he might not come out with us again. Amelia has her duties, and the stink eye I get from Vir tells me he doesn�t approve of her jaunt with us. Or maybe it�s just that he doesn�t approve of me. Mikito, out at our shoddy training grounds, works with hunters and others who want to improve their melee skills. That leaves me as the only one dumb enough to go out hunting still. What can I say? There�s a peace to fighting creatures that don�t talk or scream or have babies.

Of course, that time alone also gives me a chance to check out the fort and speak with the Hakarta. It�s my first visit with them since I�ve made the deal. We both have better things to do I�m sure, and it�s not as if I can gather that much more detail in only a few months. Our talk was both interesting and profitable, though I make note of what they�re asking. Numbers, Classes, defenses, and Roxley�s whereabouts all are prominent in the questioning, but we touch on other matters too, like the number of buildings and the dungeons that have appeared and the food situation. I get the feeling that whatever they�re hunting for or need is hidden in the mess of questions they ask. I�m still not sure if keeping secret the fact that they�ve been asking about us is a good idea, but I don�t entirely trust the Council not to go off their rockers with this information. We�re so busy doing our thing, I�m not entirely sure there is anything the Council could do even if they did know.

Resting against the chair, I nod in gratitude to the waitress who drops off the beer and the appetizers. After all the Credits and loot I�ve picked up, my latest visit to the Shop came with some significant purchases. A thought is all that�s required to pull up my character sheet so I can survey my growth.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1190

Stamina

1190

Mana

930

Mana Regeneration

65 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

114

Constitution

119

Perception

Intelligence

Willpower

100

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Blade

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

I�m still disappointed that there wasn�t any particular bonus for crossing one hundred in any attribute. I�d considered it a possibility, and even though I had checked with Ali earlier, it felt as though it should be significant somehow. However, since the numbers themselves are rough approximations of the changes in my body, it does make sense that there�s no benefit. For that matter, I�m being rather human-centric�there�s no particular reason why it had to be a hundred.

�Hey, Ali, does the Council have �special� numbers?� I ask the Spirit, who�s staring at a screen.

�What, like the number eight or ten?� At my nod, he shrugs. �Depends on the race. The Tuinnar really like prime numbers. The Joxin revere the number fourteen. There�s the Prixamars�giant rolling spheres�who find Pi extremely important.�

I nod in thanks before returning to my screen. Interesting but irrelevant. Looking over my Status Screen, I smile slightly at how much better it looks now. I�ve adjusted the screen to display just my combat spells, since those are the ones I�m mostly concerned with. Utility spells like Tinder, Light Orb, Purify Water, Cleanse, and the like just aren�t that that interesting, even if they are useful for everyday life. They�re so useful that Aiden now spends a good two thirds of his class time teaching those spells to others. After all, not everyone needs to throw a fireball, but everyone needs to do laundry and dishes.

Fireball is my new mass monster killer and follows along the line of the old Dungeons and Dragons spell�a small flaming orb that shoots forward before sending a sphere of heat and flame outward. Polar Zone, drops the temperature in a targeted location and slows monsters down. Size of location and temperature drop are dependent upon Mana and how big I make it�the bigger the area, the less of a drop. Of course, the minimum area I can target is about ten feet wide. It�s a pretty good crowd control spell and does some minor damage, but mostly, it�s my anti-forest fire spell. Throwing around fireballs in a dry forest is a bad, bad idea. It�s also why I still prefer Lightning Strike.

One thing I�m holding off on is purchasing more direct protection Spells and Skills since at Level 30, I�ll be able to access Soul Shield, my Class Shield Skill. I�ve fast come to realize that you�re constantly trading off between acquiring passive Skills, which are powerful but reduce your regeneration rates, with active Skills and Spells that require Mana to operate. It�s why even Mages wear armor in this world�after all, other than Credits, it costs nothing to purchase nano-woven armor that could stop a �normal� sword stab.

Of course, theoretically I could just spend the Credits and buy an active protection spell or Skill. The trade-off of purchasing something now is that if I could earn it later on, I�d be wasting Credits now that could be spent on upgrading my equipment. As it stands, I�ve begun to realize that having both the System Inventory and Altered Space abilities is quite broken.

Altered Space lets me ignore a whole series of knowledge areas that most professional Adventurers, like the Yerick, have to learn. For most Adventurers, picking up the basics of monster lore and anatomy is very important, along with basic Skills in skinning and harvesting. Most monster corpses have only a few parts that the Alchemists and Armorers want. Knowing what they are is an important secondary source of Credits and can add anywhere from ten to fifteen percent to your days earnings. Harvesting the bodies for parts with a Skill lets you place them in your inventory, so most Adventurers dedicate time or money to learning those Skills. I just ignore the problem by tossing entire bodies into my Altered Space and letting the butchering yard deal with it.

In addition, because I�ve got a secondary and significantly larger form of storage, I don�t have to husband my inventory space. Working with the Yerick, I realized that many of them carry numerous other pieces of equipment with them on a �typical� Adventure. These range from extra sets of clothing, spare armor, weapons, and potions to more mundane equipment like ropes, living accommodations, food, water, and light sources. Then you get the specialized toys�directional explosives, mines, portable shield barriers, and drones for scouting to name a just few.

All of those things take up a ton of space but make dungeon delves and combat safer. Of course, the more you carry in inventory, the less space you have for Loot. Since I don�t have to worry about space, I�ve been devoting surplus Credits to adding to my �normal� loadout in the hopes of giving myself more options in the future. I might never need a dozen Claymores and a half-dozen bounding mines or over fifty grenades in various forms, but if I ever do, at least I�ve got them.

I�ve been tempted repeatedly in the last few weeks to add more points into my Mana Imbue, increasing the damage output of my sword. Fighting at range is a nice idea, but between dungeons, where visibility is about five meters at most, and monsters that need multiple shots to kill, I�ve found myself in close combat more often than not. Compared to the Yerick, I�m just not hitting hard enough. On the other hand, my Mana Regeneration is already suffering from my numerous passive Skills and I�m really curious to see what a Thousand Blades is like in combat. After all, if I can hit a dozen times rather than once, a minor increase in damage will definitely be negated.

My thoughts about my build�and damn Jason for making me think of it in that way�is interrupted as Lana drops into a seat next to me, snagging a chicken wing as she does so.

�Hey, beautiful,� Ali greets her. �You�re looking tired.�

�I am.� Lana flashes him a smile that washes away her exhaustion for a brief moment. �John.�

�Lana. You okay?� I look around once more, noting again that only a few tables are full.

�Just been a long day.� Lana shakes her head, worry lines appearing between her eyebrows again. �Finding someone to run this place after the last manager quit has been a pain.�

�Ah!� I nod slowly. That explains her absence in the evenings for the last week and her constant presence here. �Quiet today. There something going on that I missed?�

�Tons!� Ali quips while we both ignore him.

�The Cellar reopened today. They�ve got lower prices and a human-only policy,� Lana says tiredly, looking around the Nugget. �A lot of the regulars decided to check it out.�

�Who bought it?� I say.

�Bill.� Lana�s voice rises slightly at the mention of his name. �He picked up the motel next to it at the same time and put the same policies in place. I hear there�s work being done on the restaurant that was located in the motel too.�

�Huh.� I look around the Nugget again, wondering if the lowered volume will affect the viability of the business. I frown, trying to recall Lana�s ramblings about the business before I quickly realize that I don�t have the details to make an educated assessment. �I guess that�s what�s stressing you out?�

�Mmm� not really. He�s still buying most of his alcohol from the brewery, so either way, we win. And maybe this way the newcomers will start coming by more,� Lana adds.

I nod. The Yerick, mostly led by Capstan, started showing up at the Nugget in the last few weeks, but the Truinnar continue to stay to themselves, preferring to live, sleep, and relax in their quarters in Roxley�s building. Vir�s about the only Truinnar we see in the Nugget, and his obsidian skin and white hair always get more than a few stares.

Looking at the plates before me, Lana says, �Are you okay?�

�Hmm�?� I answer as I chew on a mouthful of wontons.

�There are only four plates here. That�s about half of what you normally eat.� Lana points.

I look at the food before shrugging. �Huh. Funny story about that.�

�I could use a laugh,� Lana replies.

�Boy-o here gets hangry. The Yerick started feeding him every few hours and he stopped being as bitchy,� Ali cuts in before I can say anything.

I growl at the Spirit, who just shoots me a wide smile.

�Oh,� Lana says, her eyes twinkling as she tries not to laugh.

Yeah, yeah� so maybe part of my anger control issues are due to low blood sugar. Real funny.

�Hey, sis.� Richard bends down to give the top of Lana�s head a quick kiss.

She glares and swipes at him tiredly while he chuckles, taking a seat. Richard�s latest girl flashes us a quick smile, dropping into a seat as well. Both of them have that weird, too clean look of someone who just got hit with a Cleanse spell. Useful spell, as I said, but it�s particularly harsh on clothing and creates this weird dichotomy where the clothing itself looks factory fresh but any wear then shows through in stark contrast.

�Dick. Patti,� Ali says, and I nod in welcome to both newcomers.

�The Cellar�s busy. I saw a pair of Amelia�s people standing nearby, keeping an eye on the crowd. Rumor has it that they don�t intend to close at all,� Richard says without preamble, waving to the waitress and holding up a pair of fingers.

�How did Fred take it?� Lana says.

�Kicked up a fuss at the meeting today. Of course, Bill�s just ignoring him so far. Fred even mentioned maybe taking it up with Roxley.� Richard shakes his head.

Fred must be at his wit�s end if he�s asking for Roxley�s help�the alien interloper, as Fred likes to call him.

�Why is the Cellar being open all hours a problem?� Patti asks, her brow furrowed.

I smile at Richard�s latest girl, who has managed to last three days so far. That�s pretty surprising. Of course, the way Richard is eyeing the waitress as she bends over to serve him, Patti�s days might be numbered. At this point, if a woman in town doesn�t know about Richard�s womanizing, she�s either catatonic or completely socially inept.

�Because Fred is Mayor No Fun and wants us back to ten o�clock closings,� Richard says.

�It�s more complicated than that,� Lana corrects, holding up a finger. �We�ve always had a problem with alcoholism. While a lot of the active alcoholics didn�t make it, quite a few of those who were on the wagon have relapsed. Limiting the hours the Nugget was open helped reduce the temptation and the times they could drink, which gave us potential windows to help, well, sober them up.�

�If they die off, isn�t that better for us?� Patti asks, brown eyes glittering.

�Cold�� Ali grins. �I like you.�

Richard looks startled as she says that. He opens his mouth then shuts it then tries again. �It�s, well, shouldn�t we try to help them?�

�Why?� Patti shakes her head. �They�re just a drain on our resources. We don�t have the, the space for them, you know.�

�But they�re humans, like us. We just can�t discard them to the wayside,� Richard protests.

�We�re not discarding them, we�re letting them choose,� Patti points out. �I didn�t put the bottle in their hands. They did. If they choose, isn�t that better for us?�

�If they aren�t useful now, we should just let them die if they want to?� Lana states, and when Patti turns to her and nods, Lana huffs out a breath. �You know, a lot of people have said that. A lot.�

�Yeah, see? We should do that,� Patti reiterates.

�Except if everyone did that, most of us would be dead,� Lana points out. �John saved us when we couldn�t fight off a Troll. Roxley put his guards into place to save the city when we couldn�t fight off the spawns. Richard, Jim, John, and the rest, they�ve all taken the hunters out again and again to level them. Part of being human is that we all stumble sometimes. We all need help sometimes,� the last is said while Lana faces me, her violet eyes somber.

�When is enough? When do we say that�s it?� Patti says, hand clenching her pint glass. �When do the rest of us get to live our lives and stop sacrificing for the useless? We�re dying out there. We go out, we kill the monsters, and we bring back the food, and the Council tells us it�s not enough. Never enough. And then we go out again and we die because we�re too damn tired or under-resourced. When do we get to stop?�

�Well, that is the question, isn�t it?� Lana murmurs, seemingly unaffected by the anger Patti shows. Then again, she�s dealt with me for months now. A little leaked frustration is small potatoes. �Who are you with?�

�I�m in Wigmore�s group. That�s how I met Richard.�

Taking the opening, Lana adroitly steers the conversation to something a little less controversial, getting Patti to talk about how she and Richard met. I tune it out, focusing on my meal, and catch a glimpse of Richard staring at Patti with a bit of a shocked expression.

A large, stocky man trundles in. �Pearson!�

Both redheads look up and he points straight at Richard. Behind him, a young lady scrambles around the enraged man, calling for him to calm down.

�Uhhh�� Richard looks confused, his gaze flicking to the girl then back to the man.

�You slept with my wife!� The man stomps over, shoving a table aside and sending it crashing to the floor.

Richard stands up quickly, setting himself for a fight.

�No!� Lana snaps, her Red Queen Aura snapping on. Everyone freezes, dread kicking them in the stomach while she adds, �Take it outside. Both of you!�

Richard blanches at her words, casting an imploring gaze at his sister.

She snaps at him, �Now!�

Richard moves, staying outside of the man�s reach, and when he�s halfway to the door, Lana snaps off the Aura. The man has already turned, his feet happy to obey the instructions of �get away from the scary woman.�

As Richard reaches the door, he�s followed by one last instruction from his sister. �No pets!�

�Not helping him?� I say to Lana while Ali heads off to enjoy the show, already calling out for bets on the winner.

�I warned him this might happen. He�s a big boy. The pain won�t last long,� Lana says, shaking her head. �Idiot.�

�You not worried he�s going to beat up the husband?�

Lana shakes her head. �He might be an idiot, but he�s got a good heart. He�ll take his beating.�

I chuckle softly, and then remembering Patti, I shoot her a look.

She snorts, shrugging. �Before my time.�

�Right,� I add, voice doubtful.

She doesn�t bother explaining herself, and after a moment, I let it go. None of my business after all. The table falls into an awkward silence, punctuated by shouts and cheers from outside as the beating draws a crowd.

Richard finally comes back, sporting a deep shiner and holding his side. �She told me he was dead.�

Patti just shakes her head at him, though there�s the ghost of a smile on her face.

Lana, on the other hand, props her head on a hand while asking, �How did he find out?�

�So about that�� Richard clears his nose, blowing clotted blood into a tissue. �Congratulations? You�re going to be an aunt!�

�Didn�t you fix that?� Lana almost shouts, and he winces.

�I thought so! I think the Beast�s Vitality actually overrode the System fix. I guess going for the cheapest option might not have been the smartest thing,� Richard says sheepishly.

�What are you going to do about it?� Lana�s voice is calmer, though colder.

Patti�s lips are thin and tight, the smile gone as she waits for Richard to answer.

�I don�t think I�m wanted, you know? She�s keeping it, but, yeah��

�So you�re going to leave her, them, alone?� Patti asks, her voice cold.

Richard looks away from his sister and pales even further. �No. Yes. They don�t want me, I think. I�� Richard draws a deeper than normal breath, wincing. �I just let myself get beaten, damn it. Let me, you know, process this. Figure it out.�

Patti�s eyes flash, and she gets up. �Well, when you figure it out, don�t bother calling me.�

Richard opens his mouth to protest then shuts it with a clack.

Ali, who has finally returned, catches the last couple of sentences before Patti strides out. �I really like her. Can we keep her?�

Chapter 12

�Aiden!� I scream as I grab the stinger coming at my face and use it to throw the gray, eight-legged, bastardization of a scorpion at its friends. Three pairs of eyes and a mouth, with rows of needle sharp teeth, that take up the entire torso help complete the horror of a monster.

Mikito steps back, the naginata glowing with red light as it cuts through the claw targeting her head. Her movement opens up a space for another of the creatures to scramble past, but the monster is blocked by Max as the husky teleports in close enough to tear off a leg.

Aiden claps and the ground ahead of us rises up, earth turned to mud that swamps monsters that attempt to push past it and then hardens. The entrance before us blocked off, we turn our concentrated attention on the remaining monsters. I snarl, severing a stinger that pins Bella to a wall before booting the monster away from the puppy. As the monster rises, I throw my Mana Darts into its face before following up with a Blade Strike that kills the creature. Together, Max, Shadow, and Richard finish off a third while Aiden freezes a monster for Mikito to kill.

Frakin (Level 58)

HP: 980/980

As I dash over to tackle the last Frakin, the impromptu wall cracks.

I snap a command immediately. �Go! Ali, lead them out.�

The group listens for once, fleeing for the exit as I dance back from a pincer strike and cast another group of Mana Darts into the monster�s face. As it rears back, I channel a Blade Strike to rip off its legs, accidentally tearing down a part of the wall. Scrambling through a crack, one of the Frakin gets stuck and chitters angrily. All the monsters on this side are either crippled or dead, so I run for the exit too. It doesn�t take long to reach the entrance to the cavern, where I slap down a pair of bounding mines. A short distance away, I chain together three of the modified claymores before adding the laser tripwire. I spin around, watching as the last of the wall breaks free and the monsters clamber over each to get to us. Bastards. I take the time to cast Polar Zone to slow them down further to give my friends a little more of head start.

Preparations complete, I run down the passage, headed for the dungeon�s entrance. Gods, I hope I�ve bought us enough time.

I didn�t. Thankfully, Aiden took the time to narrow the dungeon entrance before he ran for it. Made for an uncomfortable moment for me, but it was even harder for the damn Frakin to escape. We find ourselves regrouping a distance away, the monsters having decided to give up after circling the entrance for a bit.

�Bella okay?� I ask.

Richard nods grimly, running a hand over his dog. The wounds seem to have closed up pretty well, but he still spends some time looking her over carefully.

�We nearly died!� Aiden says, sounding half-panicked.

For a moment, I pity him. Second time out with me to a dungeon and it�s the second time we�ve run into something outside of our league.

�Easy,� Mikito says, placing a hand on Aiden�s arm.

Aiden looks at it then draws a deep breath, actually saying, �Ommm,� as he tries to center himself.

�He�s right,� Richard adds, standing up slowly. �Those things were tough.�

�Level 55 to 60,� I clarify, and the startled looks from the group makes me smile grimly.

�You can read levels?� Aiden says, pointing at me.

�Yes.� I pause before looking at the others. �We can�t tackle that dungeon alone. We�re going to need more help if we want to do it.�

�Can we smoke them out?� Mikito asks.

I contemplate the question. Last time, we basically poisoned a group of Crilik Shifters in their lair, choking them out with carbon dioxide and a lack of oxygen.

�No idea. It�s a thought.� I swallow to clear my throat once again. �So� another dungeon?�

�Uhh�� Aiden looks worried.

�I know one around here that�s Level 20. The Yerick and I cleared it a few weeks ago. Should be ready for another group,� I add.

The others nod slowly. As good as the bonuses for checking and clearing new dungeons are, we still have to deal with the existing ones too. Anyway, something a little easy would help settle Aiden�s nerves.

After receiving agreement from everyone, we head out while I get Ali to bookmark this location. We�ll be back, one way or the other.

�You okay?� I ask Aiden as he leans against a tree, breathing slowly and regularly.

The others are seated in a loose circle watching the dungeon entrance, slowly relaxing after coming out of the dungeon. A Level 20 dungeon with this group was a cakewalk and we blasted through the location within a few hours. The only thing that slowed us down was the mazelike corridors that had changed in configuration since the last time I was there.

Aiden looks up, pulling his headphones down as I repeat my question. He opens his mouth, glances to the side where the puppies are tearing happily into their lunch and our most recent nemesis�a creature that vaguely resembled a hippopotamus without its sunny disposition�and turns a little green again. Once more, Aiden shuts his eyes and forces himself to breathe. �I�ll be fine. I just need a moment.�

�You sure?� I ask, slightly concerned. I can�t understand him, not really. Aiden did well in the dungeon and every time we�ve been attacked, but now, when things are quieter, he�s panicking and looking like he�s about to throw up.

�Yes. I just need to find my center. And stop looking at� that.� He waves toward where the dogs are ripping into the body, tearing off chunks of flesh and gulping it down. The crunch of bones and the wet, tearing noises of their meal ripple through the clearing, making Aiden flinch every time. He�s the only one who seems disturbed by it, probably because the three of us are much more used to this scene.

�Okay then.� I pause, considering. �Mind if I ask a personal question?�

�Maybe. It depends on how personal,� Aiden says.

�Why are you out here? You�ve got a pretty good gig in the city, teaching and training. You might not earn as much as a hunter, but I can�t see you being poor.�

�Don�t want me here?�

I shake my head. �I�ll take all the competent help I can get.�

�I need to Level,� Aiden replies. �It�s, well, I need it. Leveling is the only way to be safe in this world. I need more Skills, more Spells, all of it. Being weak in this world, you die.�

�Yeah, there�s not much space for the weak.� I look around us, at the corpse of the monster being torn to bits. �You going to be okay doing this then?�

�Yes. I have to be.� Aiden slowly straightens up, exhaling one last time. �How about you? Why do you do it?�

I open my mouth then shut it, lips twisting wryly. �Well, I�m kind of stupid.�

I�m running back through the evening summer sunlight, breathing in clear, clean air filled with fallen pine needles and the remaining spring flowers. I enjoy the fresh air, especially after having just escaped the twisted, poisoned air of the land behind me. The world is changing and so is our environment. The trees in that particular location have warped to become poisonous, releasing a nearly undetectable toxin that starts doing damage only after it hits a certain toxicity level. If it hadn�t been for my Class Resistances and my greater than normal regeneration rates, I�d never have escaped. I�ve got the location mapped, and I�ll need to come back at some point to work out how large and how dangerous a threat these new trees are.

At the least, after escaping the trees, hunting was good. I even found a relatively newly spawned Boss. I only needed to wade through a half-dozen of its minions before I got my chance to chop off its twisted, bulbous legs then carve its heart out. I know it sounds gruesome, but I couldn�t figure out where its head was in the weird, knobby sphere that made up its body. Cutting bits and bobs off it didn�t seem to actually kill it, so heart it was. Sometimes, mass violence is the only answer.

Coming in from the wrong side of the river, I decide to dive in and swim across. I don�t like the water, but considering it�ll take me all of three strokes before I�m across, it�s a lot better than running to the nearest bridge. One day perhaps I�ll be able to bridge the distance with one solid jump.

Running through the industrial lands that make up this part of the city, I can�t help but note how the buildings have begun to come apart. Wood rots, plants grow between cracks, and roofing sags under the onslaught of untamed Mana. Without being brought into the System, these buildings will eventually come apart at the seams�unless they get converted into something else of course.

First stop for today is the butchering yard, then the Shop. By the time I reach Whitehorse, even at the slow jog I�m moving at, I�m nearly dry. Love these high-tech one-piece suits, even if this one needs replacing soon. Somehow, a wild boar had made its way into the wild and doubled in size with some truly nasty tusks. I hadn�t even heard it coming till it was on me, which was surprising in itself. Either way, the armor took most of the damage but would need fixing.

A crowd around the butchering yard isn�t unusual. The size of this crowd is, and I find myself slowing down, checking for potential problems. I find it in the haggard-looking form of Rachel and another member of the Brothers of the Wolf. Jim stands next to them, speaking softly while the crowd mill around the trio.

��not your fault��

Reading Jim�s lips from this distance is hard with the way the crowd keeps shifting, so I give up, instead threading my way through the group. My eyes narrow slightly as I note it�s a mixture of First Nation civilians and hunters.

�You should rest,� Jim murmurs, putting a hand on the shoulders of the pair.

Rachel flinches away from his hand, and the young First Nation teenager�s face is filled with tears but obstinate.

�No. We have to go back, we have to help them!� Rachel cries, looking around desperately for help and latching on to me. �John! Please. You have to help me. Please!�

�Uhh�� I pause as the crowd parts. I step forward, looking between Rachel and Jim while the other teenager continues to shake.

�Please!� Rachel rushes up to me and grabs my hand. I let her take it, staring at her as she blurts out, �I couldn�t� they told me to run. But they were stuck, we�ve got to save them. Please.�

My eyes widen slightly and I look at Jim, who shakes his head ever so slightly. I draw a deep breath, looking at the distraught girl, then nod slowly. �Okay, I�ll go. Ali, map projection.�

When the map comes up, Ali shares it with Rachel. who bites her lip, staring at the map. She stares at it for so long that I have to clear my throat.

�I don�t know. I� I�ll just show you,� Rachel blurts out.

�No. You�re not going, Rachel,� Jim says, his voice brooking no argument.

He glares at me, but I ignore him, focusing on the other kid, who has begun to stare at the map too. �Kid, do you know where you were?�

�I� maybe.� He raises a hand then lowers it.

�If you tell me, I�ll go. Alone,� I urge him, holding out the carrot of rest.

He presses a hand to the map and I watch as a small blinking dot appears. I nod in thanks.

Rachel grabs at my arm again. �I�m coming.� Her voice breathy and desperate, she digs her fingers into my arm.

�No.� As she opens her mouth to protest, I cut her off. �You�ll just slow me down.�

She clamps her mouth shut, knowing that I can move faster than she can. Her goal complete, she deflates, tears refilling her eyes and running down her face. �Please, save them.�

�I�ll check out the spot.� My voice soft, I make sure not to promise anything.

Another woman comes up, grabs Rachel by her arm, and pulls on her. The tired young lady gives in, letting herself be led away.

Jim looks at me, his eyes dark. �I�m coming. Unless you think I�ll slow you down too.�

�Got a truck?� I murmur, keeping my voice low to ensure Rachel can�t hear.

He nods, and I gesture for him to get moving. Jim�s lined face tightens as he turns and leads me to a nearby red pickup. A pair of hunters peel off to join us. As he puts his hand on the door, he�s stopped by a toddler who rushes his legs, hugging his body.

He bends down, rubbing the child�s head. �I�ll be fine, Aya. I�ll be fine. I got to go.�

She hugs his leg again, refusing to let go, and finally has to be pried off by a harried-looking youngster.

I keep silent till we�re out of the gates, following the map we�ve shared with Jim. �Your granddaughter?�

�Yes,� Jim answers tartly. I nod as he puts his foot to the accelerator, taking corners a little faster than I�d like. After a time, he says what we both know. �They�re dead, you know.�

�I know. Do you have more details?�

Jim falls silent, chewing on his thoughts. �Not much. They were sweeping the area, looking for Boss monsters. It seems like they found one.�

�Levels? Type? Strength?� I ask, and Jim shakes his head.

Joy.

�Ali, how far can you range now?� I ask my Spirit, watching as we slowly, ever so slowly, close in on the dot.

�About five kilometers from you in these Mana densities. You want me to check it out when I can?� Ali asks.

I just nod. It�s better than nothing, and Greater Awareness should keep us safe enough while he�s gone.

�Can do, boy-o,� Ali says.

I close my eyes for a moment. There were six Brothers before Rachel joined, so if one came home with her, we lost five. And they were some of our most promising new hunters to come out from our training program.

I bite my lip, forcing myself not to curse as we make our way through the forest and carefully hike up the mountain. Jim and his hunters are so damn slow. I could have run to the marker by now! I push the anger down, knowing it isn�t worth it. It took us nearly an hour and a half to drive out this far and Rachel would have taken just as long, if not longer, to come back. Whatever happened happened a long time ago, and rushing now would add nothing but four more bodies.

Still, I can�t help my impatience. I�ve released my drone as well as Ali in the hopes of picking up more information, but unfortunately, the drone was smashed an hour after release. A massive bug launched itself from the treetop and landed on it, ripping fuselage and wings off before attempting to feast on my expensive piece of junk. Since Ali can only range a set distance from me, I�m stuck waiting as we hike the rest of the way in.

I grit my teeth, and to stop myself from killing anyone, I pull another chocolate bar from my inventory and chew on it. The taste, the motions, the sugar rush all help a little. Jim flicks a glance to me, his lips tightening, but he says nothing as the group sneaks forward. I wonder if he�s more annoyed that I�m better than his group is at sneaking or that I�m eating. One of the benefits of my Subterfuge Perk is that I�m quite practiced at these stealth skills.

�Okay, boy-o, I need you to keep calm when I report,� Ali states the moment he�s back in range.

I can see him flying back as fast as his little body will take him even as we converse mentally. �What?� I feel the anger I�ve been repressing surge and I have to fight it back by breathing slowly and deeply to regain control. �Just tell me. Please.�

�I found their bodies. They�re all dead, and the monsters, well, they�re doing what monsters do.�

�They�re eating the corpses,� I say out loud, alerting Jim to Ali�s information.

�Yes,� Ali sends to me, concern in his mental voice.

I freeze in place, not saying a thing, not moving as I process this information. I can�t move, because if I do, if I let my control go for even a second, I think I�ll charge the monsters. I see Haines Junction again, the bodies of the townsfolk, the children torn apart, cooked and eaten. Bones and bodies, so many of them. I shudder, my body shaking with repressed rage.

In.

Out

In.

Out.

Slowly, so slowly, my rage comes under control. I force it down, apply rigid control on myself. So many years of learning to accept that all I can control is myself. What is, is. I can�t make them live again. I can�t save them. They�re already dead.

All I can do is kill their murderers and build a pyre from their bodies.

�Talk to me, Ali. Tell me what I�m facing.�

Four Xu�dwg�hkkk Beasts left, including the Alpha. The Brothers left three of the Xuds as corpses. Unfortunately, each of these monsters has high 40s, low 50s levels and the Alpha is a mid-50 Alpha. The Yerick or my old team, we could have taken all four. I don�t trust my chances with Jim and his friends, not in a straight fight.

The Xuds are each around thirty feet long, clad in blue scales, with an extremely long neck, a stub of a tail, and a horn that rises from its head. The scales absorb energy beams, redirecting any electrical energy they receive to their horns, making the monsters nearly impervious to energy weaponry. Not a problem for Jim, since his team still sticks to slug throwers, but since I wield a beam rifle, I�ll either have to stick to magic or get in close. No puppies to aid me this time.

By the time Ali has finished explaining what we�re facing and described the Xuds to Jim, he and his friends are looking a little worried.

�Can we?� Jim asks.

�Not directly,� I answer, thinking furiously. I pull up the map, looking for an answer, but find no convenient gullies, caves, or terrain features to aid us. �Ali?�

�Nothing. Usual assortment of spike elms, sticky pine, and some new bladed asp leaves, but nothing that�ll kill the Xuds,� Ali answers, knowing what I want.

Jim looks grim for a moment before his gaze slips to his friends. At last, he shakes his head and I see his friends relax.

�You guys should get going,� I say.

�You�re not coming?�

�No. I�ve got a lesson to be teaching.�

�John, you can�t be serious,� Jim says gruffly. �That�s suicidal.�

�Maybe. Don�t worry about it. I�m not one of your charges, and this, this is what I do,� I say, a smile pulling on my face. Oh yes, this is what I do.

Jim hesitates, looking conflicted before he shakes his head finally. �No. I�m staying.�

�No. You�re not. You�ve got a grandchild and others waiting on you. Go home. Take care of them. Do the right thing. The smart thing.�

Jim�s face hardens, getting mulish until his friend puts a hand on his arm and whispers something. Since I don�t speak Southern Tutchone, I don�t know what is said, but it�s enough to make Jim relent.

�Don�t die,� he says.

�Not the plan.� I point at his rifle. �I do want to borrow that though. And any ammunition you have.�

Ali stays silent for a few minutes after Jim and the group depart, then he berates me. �Do we have to do this every Goblin�s vomit time? And what kind of insanity have you thought of this time? Going to call a dragon to eat them? Or maybe a Troll?�

�No. I�m going to do this myself.� I absently heft the weapon Jim has provided me. Nice little slug thrower, fully powered by a Mana engine with armor piercing rounds and a decent scope.

�Oooh, you going to stab them to death? Shoot them with your pea shooter?�

�No.� I smile. �Relax. I have a plan.�

�I really, really am growing to hate those words,� Ali says out loud, and I grin at the little Spirit.

This is not a smart plan. This isn�t even a particularly creative plan. It takes hours of setup, hours of backbreaking labor, most of which Ali spends telling me how wasteful an activity all this is. I eventually threaten him with banishment to shut him up. Finally, I�m ready.

I sneak up on the monsters, getting close enough that I can eyeball them from a distance.

Xu�dwg�hkkk Beast (Level 48)

HP: 2880/2880

Xu�dwg�hkkk Beast - Alpha (Level 55)

HP: 3780/3780

Get close enough to see them. Aim and fire, targeting the eyes, and hope to blind them. At the end of the day, the goal is to get their attention and make them chase me. Run, spin, and shoot when they get bored. Dodge the blasts of electricity and be grateful for the stupid Lightning Squirrels upping my resistance when I do get hit.

Run, duck, dodge, and fight, keep moving to the target location. Thankfully, it�s not too far, and even more thankfully, unthinking aggression is something the System seems to favor in its monsters. X marks the spot and I�m finally here with a hundred-meter lead. Simple.

X is a steep cliff, about five meters above a small forested clearing. The cliff�s not high enough for it to hurt if they fell off the edge normally, but it�s high enough for my purpose. I leap off the cliff, slam into the ground, and spin, calling forth my sword and a Blade Strike at the same time. The Xuds follow, getting ready to jump, the Alpha already charging up another shot.

I�m not targeting them though�I�m targeting the cliff face. Or more specifically, I�m targeting the remaining columns of stone and earth that hold up the cliff. I hit them, one after the other, with my Blade Strikes as the creatures get ready to jump, their weight and the weakened structures giving way into a mini landslide.

That�s when they get to learn about my second surprise underneath the ground of the clearing. I�d considered leaving the ground as an open pit, but I wasn�t entirely sure the landslide would work. If it didn�t, at least if the pit was covered, they might still jump. As it stands, the monsters, the remains of the cliff, and the light covering I placed over the pit all crash into the deep, deep hole I�ve dug.

I hate manual labor. I really do. I had to cut down a tree to make an improvised shovel just so that I could dig into the ground and the cliff before I could take the clumps of dirt into my Altered Space. Once that was filled, I had to dump the accumulated dirt a distance away and repeat the process. The good news is that my altered attributes made the manual labor tedious, not impossible. The bad news is that even with never-ending Stamina, just to make this happen before the end of the day, I had to add another point to my Altered Space. That gave me a much larger dimensional space and gave Ali a higher degree of control over it too. It made the work much easier, especially since I needed a pit big enough to fit four thirty-foot-long monsters.

The dust-filled air when the landslide eventually stops is enough to make me cough. When I peer inside, the Xuds are still moving, attempting to climb up. I decide to put a stop to that.

�Ali?�

The Spirit flies up high into the air and concentrates, pulling open my Altered Space right next to himself and dropping its contents inside. Stone and chopped trees rain down, smashing into the monsters. The moment the space is empty, Ali flits off to collect more while I cast my Fireball Spell inside to distract the monsters.

We bury the Xuds alive, their bodies pounded under tons of earth and rock, unable to get enough of a purchase to climb out. When we finally get the last notification of their deaths, all that can be seen is a small depression filled with churned earth and stone. I mentally message Ali then turn back to collect the remains of the Brotherhood.

This wasn�t a fight. This was an execution. I wish I could say that I�m happier, that I�m less angry, but all I feel is a caustic, churning sea of rage in my stomach. I almost wish I had fought them straight on�at least I�d have felt a little better.

Chapter 13

By the time I get back, its mid-afternoon of the next day. The guards at the wall nod at me, only one of them looking slightly startled. Halfway down the stretch of road to the city, I�m met by a hunter who drives me the rest of the way and drops me off at the reclaimed Kwanlin Dun Cultural Center. I leave the bodies to their people before I walk to the City Center and the Shop.

Gods, but I�m tired. I don�t bother with haggling or arguing, instead sending the Spirit, who never seems tired, to deal with it. I crash on the lounge chair, eyes half closed, but soon enough I get bored. I pull out another of my books, happy enough to catch up on my �light� reading. Others might find window shopping in the Shop interesting, but I�ve never liked it. Tempting myself with what I can�t afford just seems like a waste of time. Picking up Adventuring equipment, the Credits for fixing up Sabre and the Skills that I could use in the future, Ali and I have this mapped out. The rest�well, the rest is teasing.

��Mana Allocation and the Development of Monsters in Dungeons.�� The voice is relaxed, cultured, and familiar.

As I look up, I see a pair of shapely legs in tight black pants with silver piping and a vest-and-tunic ensemble in the same design encasing a well-muscled, toned body. Dark skin, tipped ears, and silver hair complete the portrait of a very handsome Tuinnar noble.

�Not your regular reading,� he says.

�Lord Roxley.� My lips twist in a light smile, a part of me happy to see him. The last time we met, he was lecturing me on my many mistakes. Since then, he�s been a no-show in the city. �Where have you been?�

�Away. I have had to deal with some of the issues from the Yerick�s arrival in person,� Roxley says, and I frown. �Our first major batch of colonists having their buildings destroyed has not been particularly good for my recruitment efforts. I have been attempting to attract others.�

�Others�� I frown. �You�re trying to bring in more people?�

�Of course. The City is not sustaining itself currently. Cannot sustain itself. Certainly not before the deadline. When the System is fully online, when the Dungeon World is created, we must be ready.�

�You�re talking in riddles again,� I grumble as I stand, dropping the book back into my inventory.

�Perhaps if your reading was a little more practical,� Roxley says, shaking his head. �Not so esoteric��

�I like what I�m reading.� My eyes narrow. �Anyway, I used to have someone who was willing to explain the more mundane.�

�Used to.� Roxley tilts his head and sighs, stepping forward to close the distance. �I was not the one who left first.�

�I�� I open my mouth, suddenly finding it dry as he closes on me. I stare at his shoulders then upward, shaking my head. �Roxley... what�s ready?�

A corner of his lips tug up in a well-remembered movement. Still, he answers me. �Whitehorse must have, at the very least, a stable safe zone. Without it, none but the desperate will visit us.�

�Is that so bad? Seems like it�s not a bad idea to have the tourists ignore us.�

�You�re so ignorant, John,� Roxley says, heat rising in his voice. �Already Boss monsters and dungeons appear around the city constantly. My guards have had to deal with one swarm. Soon, the monster population will grow too great and the city will be overrun. Without a steady stream of Adventurers, the city will fall.

�Your people have been unable to stabilize the Mana flows through your own efforts. I have attempted, I am attempting, to draw others to us. But we are not the only city in need of immigrants, and the actions of your Council do not aid me in this.�

�You�re saying things are going to get worse,� I murmur, and he nods.

�Have you not seen it already?�

�Yes,� I sigh.

�We have an opportunity. The city has an opportunity. We have a large population and the most proximate locations to a series of high level zones. However, none of that will matter if we do not stabilize the city and upgrade the city itself.� Roxley�s voice softens as he continues. �If there is no improvement my efforts, my methods will be considered a failure.�

�Then what?� I frown, hearing the thread of worry in his voice.

�Then others of my kind, or worse, will take over. Their methods will be harsher, more inclined to use the Galactic population than mine.�

I blink at Roxley, my mind racing with the implications of his words. Hints from conversations with the Yerick and Ali give me a bleak picture of what �harsher� methods might be in store. Still� �Why tell me? Why now? Why here for that matter?�

�I am currently not on Earth. Accessing this particular Shop version allowed me to speak with you directly, now, here.� Roxley sighs. �As for why you... perhaps I believe that you may affect some change in this city of yours. Mostly, I do not wish you to misunderstand my actions in the future.�

I grunt, staring at him. �Why? What does it matter what I think?�

�You know why,� Roxley says. His hand twitches at his side, almost as if he meant to do something with it then decided against it. Considering his control, I wonder what it was. �It has been good speaking with you, John. However, I have other things to attend to.�

�That�s it? Drop some information and go?�

�Yes. I am pressed for time now. I but grasped the opportunity that was presented to me.� Roxley�s voice is laced with meaning, one that I choose to ignore.

Damn pretty Elf. I will make up my own mind at my own pace. With one last mocking bow, Roxley turns and walks away. He isn�t even two steps away before he fades, leaving me with new knowledge and an ache of loneliness.

Gods, but I�m tired.

It�s easy to tell when Lana is back. The fox�Anna�always appears first, gliding into the backyard and its den. With Richard, it�s Orel who makes his appearance first. Anna never pays any attention to me, always sliding into her den without a single sound. I would almost think that she dislikes me except that I haven�t been burnt or bitten yet.

Lana follows with the puppies, finding me sprawled under a tree in the back of our house, staring at the dark, fluffy clouds. They suit my mood, cold and gloomy with a temperature probably hovering around zero.

�John?�

�Here.� I move a hand to dump scattered candy wrappers into my inventory. No need for her to see me being a slob, not when it requires so little effort.

She comes around the corner, red hair bouncing on her shoulders and purple eyes tight with concern. I blink, tilting my head as I check my memory and realize, yes, she did get a haircut.

�John!� Lana�s voice sharpens for a moment, and I blink, staring at her.

�Yes?�

�You weren�t answering.�

�Oh� just thinking. Did you get a haircut?�

The moment I say it, she preens slightly, puffing out her generous chest and smiling. �Yes, do you like it? No, wait. Are you okay?�

�I do, and I�m fine. All in one piece.� I wave down at my body, smiling. �Didn�t even need to get regenerated to make that true.�

She frowns, squatting next to me. One of her puppies�Lexi�slides in underneath her hand to steady her while she speaks. �Jim told me about the Brothers. About Rachel. And you.�

�Easy-peasy,� I answer her unasked question, my eyes absently tracking down her figure before resting on her jeans-clad knees. There�s a tear in one of them, showing off pale, smooth skin. I blink when her hand comes down on my arm, making me look up.

�Flattering as it might be another time, that�s just creepy right now. Zombie eyes aren�t sexy,� Lana says, and I flush slightly. �You should go rest.�

�I�m fine. Stamina�s full.�

Lana snorts, not at all feminine like, before sitting fully. �You know that isn�t what I meant.� Lana picks up a candy wrapper I missed, raising one graceful eyebrow.

�I�m just a little tired. Only so much the System can do,� I finally relent, leaning back against the tree and staring at the sky.

Lana falls silent, waiting patiently.

�We keep dying. All the time. Melissa. Nicodemus. The Brothers. We keep dying.�

�I know.� There�s sympathy in Lana�s voice, in her eyes as she squeezes my arm.

I stare into her eyes and drown in them and realize how stupid I�m being. Stupid. I was the one doing the comforting a short time ago, and now here I am. I close my eyes, drawing a breath as I work on pushing it down, putting the emotions away. No. I�m not doing this. I can�t do this�

�Owwww!� I glare at Lexi, who has nipped my hand. She must have put quite some force into it to get through my health points.

�Stop that.� Lana waves a finger at my face before pointing at the sword I have in my hand without realizing it. �I told her to bite you.�

�Why?� I huff, putting the sword away.

�Pinching you doesn�t work. And you�re being an idiot again. I can literally see you repressing your emotions.�

This time I don�t run or fight her. Maybe because I�m too tired, or maybe because I�ve gotten closer to accepting that repression all the damn time is a bad idea.

�I am not.� Just because I�m closer doesn�t mean I�m not going to argue.

�Right, right. Because that churning ball of rage and the gritted teeth are normal.�

�It is for me.� I sigh. �And I�m fine the way I am.�

�The hell you are,� Ali butts in. �You�re about one good hit away from going on another run.�

�He�s right, you know. And we need you sane and healthy, you idiot,� Lana says before squeezing my hand.

�Sane and healthy�� I shake my head. �I don�t think any of us are that sane, not anymore.�

�Speak for yourself, boy-o.�

Lana shoots a look at Ali, who subsides, before she nods slowly. �Saner then.�

I snort and fall silent before I exhale roughly. �I don�t want to be needed. I don�t want the responsibility.�

�Then you can walk away,� Lana points out. �But we� I�d� be disappointed. Do you want to?�

�I-I don�t know,� I answer truthfully. Gods, I wish I could say I wanted to be the hero, the man who stands up for everyone, who holds the line no matter the cost. Except it�s easy to say you want to be that man. Easy maybe to do it the first time, until you see the cost, the lives you failed to save, the monsters you let escape. The failures that pile on you and whisper their regrets. In the end, I find myself saying, bitterly, �It doesn�t matter anyway. I�m no Superman. Doesn�t matter what happens, they keep dying. At this rate, we�ll all be dead soon enough.�

�You know I�m going to be an aunt right?� Lana says, and I nod slightly. �Three times over actually. But my brother hasn�t been the only one trying to repopulate the earth. Nearly two-thirds of the women in town are pregnant.�

�Two-thirds?� I blink, my mind going over my memories recently. Well, that�d explain the recent number of non-combat citizens wearing dresses and loose tops. Still, two-thirds?

�Oh yeah.� Lana smiles slightly. �Less in the hunters of course, but they�re mostly made up of men anyway. There is a future, John, and it�s coming in about four months.�

I nod slowly, eyes tracking over the clouds again. Four months and hundreds of mewling babies will appear in this world. In a city that isn�t safe, that hasn�t gotten itself organized. Where monsters swarm and Bosses and dungeons grow. I shudder and realize it has nothing to do with the cold. As I think that, the first snowflake drops in front of my eyes.

�Roxley says it�ll get worse soon,� I say.

Lana nods as more snow falls, faster and faster. �It always can. But it�s getting better too. We�re rebuilding. Slowly perhaps, but we�re rebuilding,� Lana squeezes my hand. �We just need a little more time.�

�Time�� I watch a snowflake drop onto our hands and melt.

�Time for bed. Come on.� Lana tugs on my hand, and I frown as she stands and leans back, pulling me off the ground. �You need some rest.�

�I�m not sure I can sleep,� I answer truthfully, and she smiles.

�Then I�ll sit with you until you do. Inside and out of this snow.� She drags me in while still holding my hand.

Behind us, the first snowfall of the autumn arrives.

�John�� Richard�s eyes narrow as I walk in with Lana for breakfast the next morning. He blinks, looking between the two of us, probably searching for and not finding Ali.

Truth be told, I�m curious where the little Spirit has gone, but I�m mostly enjoying the peace and quiet. �What?�

�Finally!� Richard shakes his head and turns back to his cereal.

�Nothing happened!� I splutter, realizing what he�s saying.

Mikito titters at my reaction while Lana just grabs a bowl, smacking her brother on the top of the head when she gets near him.

�Yeah, right. I can smell her on you and vice versa,� Richard replies. �Perk of bonding with the Huskies.�

I blink, staring at him then Lana. Oh� well that explains his level of awareness out there. Still� �We didn�t do anything. She just slept with me. In bed. Asleep.�

Mikito laughs as I splutter and Richard snorts, obviously not buying it.

�Just ignore him, John,� Lana says, adding milk to her cereal. �He was always like this, even in school.�

After a while of us working on our respective breakfasts, Richard says, �Snow didn�t stick.�

�When will it?� I ask, frowning. �Seems a bit early for snow really.�

�Chokato.� Lana chuckles, and Mikito and I share confused glances. �It�s mid-October. We�ll start getting snow regularly from now on, and it could stick at any time. About time for us to be changing tires really.�

�Oh�� I blink then consider the gardens, the farms where plants are still growing. �How about the farms?�

�Shields,� Mikito pipes up, shaking her head slightly in bemusement. �One of the hunters realized that if you use a low-grade shield, the shield blocks airflow but lets in light. Makes a great greenhouse.�

Lana nods, lips thinning slightly. �The Council should have made the purchases already, but the decision has been held up in committee.�

Richard makes a face and I find myself echoing it. Bureaucrats.

Lana sees our faces and rolls her eyes, putting the bowl aside as she stands. �I�ve got to go. Try to remember to go shopping for more food, will you?�

Those are her last words to us before heading out.

Richard stares at his sister before turning back to me. �You guys really didn�t do anything, did you?�

�Not a thing,� I say.

�Damn. Okay.� He frowns, opening then shutting his mouth as decides better on commenting further.

Mikito snorts as she puts her chopsticks down on top of her bowl. �Dungeon. What�s the plan?�

�More people. A lot more,� I state firmly.

�Who?� Richard frowns, holding up his fingers. �We can ask Rachel, maybe the last Brother. Aiden will come, and if we schedule it right, Amelia too. That�s seven.�

�Not enough.� I shake my head, remembering our ignoble retreat. �Mikito and I might be able to take two or three of those each, but the first room alone had over twenty.�

�The Carcross group?� Richard asks.

I frown, shrugging. �Maybe, but they�ve got their hands full with the Bosses around Carcross.�

�Jim,� Mikito adds, fingers laced together in front of her. �His group can come.�

�No. They�d be seriously out-leveled.� Richard exchanges a glance with Mikito before he says, �There�s the Circle of Ravens. Or well, Bill�s group if you will.�

�No. I don�t trust them,� I say firmly, and the pair nod.

�Just making sure I asked,� Richard states. �How about the Yerick?�

�That might work.� I nod slowly. �We could add your sister too. Between your pets and hers, we�d nearly double our front-line fighters.�

Richard makes a face, shaking it slightly. �No. Too dangerous.�

�You should ask,� Mikito points out.

Richard�s face scrunches up in distaste before he nods. �Fine, fine. So you going to ask the Yerick, John? I�ll talk to Amelia and Aiden. Maybe we could visit Carcross today, help them out for a few days. Might make it viable for Jason and Gadsby to come.�

�I want to ask Jim,� Mikito adds, interrupting us.

�Mikito��

�Hear me out. He�s the strongest hunter among the non-grouped, and he�s in his low 30s. If we bring him and maybe a couple of others, we could have them level with us,� Mikito says.

�It�d be like a training run, just at a higher level.�

Richard looks at Mikito, seeing the mulish expression she has, and shrugs his acceptance.

�Only if the Yerick agree. More people means more of a split in Credits and experience,� I add to help pacify Richard.

�Okay,� Mikito accepts my codicil without complaint.

�Sounds like we�ve got a plan then.� I stand up, stretching. �Give me a ride to Xev�s? I want to check on Sabre first.�

�Can do.� Richard dumps his bowl into the sink with a clatter while Mikito gently places her aside. One quick Spell later, and we�re on our way.

�Xev!� I wave to my mechanic as I walk in.

It scrambles away from the hulk of a Hummer it�s busy converting to greet me. From beneath the Hummer, a pair of lizard feet are sticking out and muffled cursing can be heard. I ignore it for now, waiting for Xev to answer the unasked question.

�Mostly done, Adventurer John. Nanobots finished rewiring circuits, armor is mostly replaced. I�ve added two of the three weapon upgrades and was waiting on the third, but your Sabre can be taken out now. Has been good to take out for weeks,� it adds, guiding me to where Sabre rests.

I touch my bike, my first real prized possession in this System world. I had outgrown it, the combination of the high-level areas in the Yukon and my high base stats making the mecha less and less useful. Yet I couldn�t let it go. It was everything I needed when I first started, and just discarding it had seemed wrong.

So I put in more Credits than I should have upgrading it. I�d switched out the internal systems entirely. Along the way, we added a nanomachine upgrade for the base system. I�d used a hardpoint and softpoint for that, but now Sabre could self-repair anything but catastrophic damage. Xev had ripped out and replaced enough internal systems that we actually managed to create an additional hardpoint for the PAV, which meant I had space for a few new toys.

Specifically, I got myself a new portable shield generator that ran off its own Mana battery, and some heavy-hitting missile launchers. I�d considered getting beam weaponry, but since the Shield was also linked directly to Sabre�s engine, in a pinch I could increase the shield regeneration. Of course, doing that meant we�d drain the battery faster, which is why I went with external ammunition that didn�t need the Mana battery.

Armor, after our little tussle, had upgraded itself to add a twenty-five percent resistance to electrical damage. I was loath to swap the armor plates out entirely, knowing the nanomachines would eventually add even more resistances as we encountered tougher enemies. So long as the mecha lasted at least. I smile slightly, pulling up the stats for Sabre.

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)

Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)

Soft Points: 3 (2 Used)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception

Inlin Type II II Projectile Rifle

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)

Ammo Capacity: 45/45

Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent

Ares Type II Shield Generator

Base Shielding: 2,000 HP

Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked

Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)

Battery Capacity: 6/6

Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds

Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm

While I�m busy with the mecha, Xev skitters away to get back to fixing up the Hummer. After pushing out from underneath the vehicle, Tim stands and stretches, his dragon scales covered in oil and grease. He looks happier than he did the last time I saw him. For that matter, thinking about it, I haven�t seen him at all.

�Tim.� I nod absently to the ex-Raven�s Circle member. I can�t say I like him, but I don�t dislike him either.

�John.� He walks over, long tail swinging gently behind him. �Picking up Sabre?�

�Yeah.� I smile and rest my hand on the bike again.

�She�s one heck of a machine,� Tim says.

Then I blink, realizing if he�s been working here� I grow guarded, wondering what he might have told others. Then again, I wonder why I�m being so damn paranoid. Even if people do know about her, it�s not as if we�ve not all gained numerous levels in the last few months. She�s no longer an automatic trump card like before, so people stealing her should be significantly less of a worry.

Tim sees my face and works to reassure me immediately. �Don�t worry. What happens in the shop, stays in the shop. Can�t work here if you don�t understand that rule. If I told you some of the things people have us fix��

�You�d be fired,� Xev chitters.

�Anyway, not as if I�ve got anyone to talk to these days,� Tim says grumpily, and I raise my eyebrow. He gestures down his body. �Whitehorse has gotten a lot more speciesist since I left.�

�Even to you?� I say.

�Yeah. Seems like if you aren�t a vanilla-looking human now, well, you aren�t good enough to be human.� Tim growls, pointed lower and triangular upper teeth flashing in the light. �They didn�t complain when we were saving their asses or fighting the monsters for them. Now that they think they�re safe, it�s �you�re scary,� �you�re not human,� �you�re a freak.��

�Sorry, man,� I say.

�It�s just so messed up, you know? I always thought Dragons were cool, and when the System came, well, I got a chance to be a Dragon. Well, Dragonkin.� Tim sighs. �We were the cool kids for once, you know? Nic and the rest of us, we were the heroes. But now I�m just a freak again.�

�Do you regret it?� I ask.

Tim shakes his head firmly. �No. I still love being a Dragon.� He grins. �But I�ll be damned if I fight for them anymore. The idiots can go twist on a stick.�

I nod. I can understand his feelings, the way the ingratitude can eat at you. I almost make the offer for him to come with us, but he seems happy here, working on the vehicles. We don�t really need another person�

�Anyway, I got to get back to work. And, John, sorry about Luthien. We, I, knew about her and Kevin but� they were my friends then, you know,� Tim says.

�I get it,� I reply, waving him back to his work as I trace my hand down Sabre. Old grudges�they seem so distant now, so petty. I still don�t want to deal with Luthien, but really, what�s a little betrayal among all this blood and death? It just seems so� small. �See you, Tim.�

The Dragonkin raises a hand in goodbye without turning around, and I sit on Sabre, smiling slightly. Right then. Time to talk to Capstan, then we�re off to Carcross.

Capstan was gone by the time I managed to make my way to their compound, so I left a brief message for him to contact me. By the time I finally meet up with the group, Ali is back and refusing to answer questions about where he has been.

We make our way back to Carcross, taking the Klondike Highway and passing by the Cutoff as we drive down the highway. Autumn�s certainly here, with many of the trees having shed their leaves and patches of snow on the mountains. Unfortunately, with the lack of upkeep of the highway, driving is fast becoming a pain. I wish I had the Credits to add in a hover mode for Sabre�it�d certainly make a less jarring ride. If we want to continue hunting in the Winter, it�ll probably have be our next major upgrade.

When we reach Carcross, I�m impressed by the changes. They�ve pushed back the forest by another kilometer and added a deep trench right in front of the wall. Along the walls, smaller beam rifles have been added, each of them tracking along a smaller axis while a few watchtowers watch over the entire wall with significantly larger weaponry. Behind the wall, a single squat building, where the old First Nation�s community center was, towers over everything. Looks like they�d upgraded their city center to act as their final fallback point.

We�re greeted by Jason, the teenager still dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt but looking older and more mature. He�s even taken to growing a beard, which surprisingly suits him. Instead of greeting us with a usual smile and shout of joy, his greeting is much more subdued.

Richard takes over describing the dungeon and what we need while the rest of us take a moment to stretch our legs. I spot Mikito walking over to a group of hunters, and she makes carton after carton of cigarettes appear, to their delight. I guess someone decided that earning a little additional income by bringing nicotine over wasn�t beneath her.

As I look over the city, I blink, staring as I finally get a good look at the guards on the wall. I�d noticed new faces, but I hadn�t really twigged until now. They look pretty human for the most part, but from this side, we can see the rest of their bodies and the oddity of their height comes through pretty clear.

�Ali, are those Dwarves?� I try not to point, but I�m comfortable staring. After all, it�s not as if they can see where I�m looking underneath my helmet.

�Galactic term for them is Gimsar. But yes, it�s your world�s Dwarves,� Ali replies. �For once, the Mana translation didn�t mess up too badly. Everything you know about them is correct�hard drinking, hard fighting short humanoids. On their home planet, they built their cities underground�mostly due to the much longer and colder nights. They aren�t particularly well known as smiths though, not any more than any other sentients. The Clans hire out as mercenaries, like the Hakarta. And yeah, Gimsar and Hakarta don�t like each other�mostly because they�re always fighting over the same contracts.�

By this time, Mikito has returned and is eyeing the group as well. She does so blatantly, but I figure that�s fair�more than one Dwarf is giving her a look-over. Of course, their regard is much more lecherous, but I figure Mikito can handle these guys. They�re all around our level after all.

�Dwarves?�

�Yup. Other than not being smiths and mostly acting as Mercenaries, Ali says the Mana translation worked,� I reply, and Mikito nods.

Mana translation�the term that Ali has used to explain why so many creatures from our mythology are making an appearance. Basically put, because Mana often collects in small amounts in non-System worlds, the System can send packets of information into the consciousness of the sentients of those worlds to prepare them for eventual initiation. Unfortunately, due to the low level of Mana in those worlds, it�s quite common for the data packets to be significantly corrupted. Thus the Mana translation problem and why certain myths only appear in certain parts of the world�most packets are too fragmented to be picked up by the entire populace.

Richard comes back, looks at the Dwarves, and I have to repeat the explanation.

He nods before gesturing out of the city. �Jason says he�ll be happy for us to hunt around Carcross. We�re, of course, welcome to stay. However, he and Gadsby won�t be leaving the town. In fact, Gadsby is taking a page out of our book and is busy training up more people.�

I frown. �So who do we have?�

�Rachel, Aiden, Amelia, and the three of us,� Richard answers immediately. �We really need the Yerick.�

I find myself nodding with Mikito. I almost consider going over to see if I can wheedle Jason a bit to come with, but that�s probably a bad idea. He�s stepping up, trying to fill in the gap left by his mother�s death. Asking him to join us on a dungeon delve when he�s turned us down already is just selfish.

�Okay. Let�s hunt,� Mikito says before suiting actions to words and climbing into the truck.

I blink, startling at the abrupt transition before I sigh and roll Sabre around. Lady�s right. We might as well do what hunting we can.

After a brief discussion, we decide against hunting for meat and go for the kill�looting for System-generated items without picking up the corpses, outside a few bodies that I dump into my Altered Space because they�re too good to leave aside. Instead, we focus on clearing as large an area as we can.

Funny thing�Lightning Squirrels are really easy to deal with when they aren�t backed up by a Boss and you�ve got a trio of fast-moving, savage dogs. We even manage to track down a pair of other Bosses. The first Orel kills, dropping from the sky to latch his claws around the Boss�s hairy, ape-like body and lifting it into the sky. The ape-creatures the Boss was directing become a lot easier to deal with without its leadership. We�re in the midst of mopping them up when Orel drops their leader�s body into the group, splattering them and us with its innards. I have a feeling we�re not getting a Christmas card from Jane Goodall this year.

The second Boss fight is probably one Mikito never wants to be reminded of. Snow Geese are evil, nasty, vicious creatures and that was before they were evolved by the System. We end up standing back to back as they literally try to shit us to death, their waste being not only toxic to the touch but to the smell. I was fine in my Sabre, completely sealed away from the smell. Richard had a resistance he gained from his class�I guess when your puppies are the size of a pony, their excretions are spectacular too. Mikito spent the entire fight puking her guts out with Bella curled up next to her though.

Luckily, I could throw Sabre�s shield over her body to ensure none of the waste landed on her directly while she was incapacitated. Richard and I spent the rest of the fight using our respective firearms to cripple the birds, bringing them down low enough for the puppies to finish them off.

Orel and Ali took care of the Boss in the air while we dealt with the minions. The aerial dogfight was rather amazing to watch, since we really couldn�t do much to help. The Boss might be tough, poisonous, and fast, but it didn�t stand a chance against Orel once its minions were whittled down.

All in all, it took us over a day and a half to get everything sorted and roll back into Whitehorse. When we get back, I find Capstan a bit grumpy with me. I guess leaving a note asking him to speak with me and not being in town for a few days could be considered bad manners, but he gets over it pretty fast when I tell him about the dungeon. When I explain how I found it and why, he gets grumpy again until I point out that Mikito and Richard were my original party. Yeesh! You�d think a guy who�s nearly ten feet tall and can bench press a tank would be less sensitive.

At the end of the day though, he agrees to come along. I can understand that entirely�the experience bonus from completing a dungeon the first time, along with the first completion bonus, is significant. I understand that motivation; after all, I�m so close to hitting level 30.

After that, it�s all about coordinating our schedules.

Chapter 14

�All right, listen up, people. I know you�ve all heard this before, but try to pay attention and hold your questions till the end.� I find myself standing in front of the group, giving the last-minute briefing before we head into the dungeon a couple of days later. I�m fully armed and armored, including being in Sabre in full mecha mode. �We don�t know how big this dungeon is. We don�t know how many floors there are. We don�t know what kind of monsters there are beyond the Frakin. We do know that the Frakin are mid-50s to low-60s and swarm.�

When I stop, Ali takes over, waving. A small image appears in front of everyone with the Shop-purchased data on the Frakin, though he summarizes for the slow readers. �The Frakin are highly resistant to poison, extreme cold, and high temperatures, and yes, carbon dioxide poisoning. Fire and Ice spells will be less useful than normal, and their chitin requires significant force to pierce, so crushing attacks are best.� He nods to the Yerick, who have switched out their usual axes for giant hammers. �Beam weapons work but are, again, resisted.�

I wave at Capstan. �Capstan is leading this group. He�s got the most experience at hitting dungeons, so he�ll be in overall command. Nelia�s second, then it�s me, Tahar, Richard, Mikito, and Aron in that order. If you aren�t out yet by the time Aron is dead, I�d recommend running like hell.�

There are a few grim laughs at that. Rachel and Aiden look a bit green, while Amelia seems unperturbed to be left out of the list.

I wait for everyone to calm down before I look around the group, my voice hardening. �This is the toughest dungeon we�ve run across, and it�s quite possible we might not be able to clear it yet. There�s no shame about backing out, and if anyone feels like it�s time to pull out, we�ll do so. This isn�t a game�we get no respawns.�

The humans, of course, nod at that. The Yerick mostly look confused but nod along to the sentiment. I nod to Capstan, and he takes over.

�The Redeemer shall be on point with Tahar and Mikito behind him. The dogs and I shall be the second line while Nelia and the mages and Richard are behind. Lastly, Amelia and Aron are our rearguard. Listen to our orders. Keep your spells and weapons to individual targets unless we tell you otherwise. Questions?�

Amelia raises a hand. �Who�s the Redeemer?�

�That�d be boy-o.� Ali points at me, sniggering.

I sigh and add, �It�s a Title.�

�Oh.� Amelia nods and falls silent.

Seeing no other questions, Capstan nods to me, and I turn and walk into the dungeon entrance. Walk into one limestone cave, you�ve walked into them all. This wasn�t even that large a limestone cavern, about twenty feet by thirty. Stalagmites and stalactites abound, though most are pretty small, leaving the cave relatively barren-looking. At the end of the cave is an exit, which we�d explored and were run off from such a short time ago. On our right, halfway down the cave, is an as-yet-unexplored passageway.

Once I�m inside the first cavern, I open up with luminescent bullets to ensure everyone can see without a problem. We�d debated trying to sneak in, but with such a large group, there really wasn�t a point. While the amount of light some of the bioluminescent moss in the caves provides is enough for the Frakin, it definitely isn�t for us.

Capstan snaps an order to Aron, who moves immediately to the unexplored entrance and drops a small device in front of it. It�s a mini-drone that acts as a combination alarm, weapon platform, and shield generator and will let us know if something tries to flank us. At least, that�s the theory. Our rear secure, he waves me forward and I get moving.

I�m watchful but relaxed, Ali having headed deeper in Spirit mode to keep an eye out for potential trouble. I see the vast glow of red dots in the cave down the passageway, but there�s no movement yet. I raise my hand, reporting in, and Capstan gives me a short nod as we set the first part of the plan into motion. We wait, since it takes time for the drones to get in position.

�John?�

I turn, looking down at the hand that rests lightly on my armor unnoticed.

Having gotten my attention, Rachel drops it. �Thank you. For trying.�

I flinch slightly, glad she can�t see my face beneath the helmet. I consider Rachel quietly for a moment, her eyes are still sunken and haunted. There�s none of that self-assurance I saw in her when we first met months ago.

I have to ask, �You up for this?�

�I think so,� she replies, her expression firming. �I have to be, don�t I?�

I don�t have time to reply. The drones are finally in place, waiting. Capstan gives a nod, and Aiden pulls an Earthen Wall into place around the entrance. It�s enough to alert the Frakin, and the swarm begins to converge on us. Last time, we managed to make it about three quarters of the way down the first passageway before they swarmed us. If they�d waited till we were actually in the cave, we�d have been dead.

I watch the dots stream toward us on the minimap, wondering when Ali will talk and getting more and more nervous.

The first Frakin are already in the tunnel entrance, all of them clustering around and trying to get to us when he finally sends word. �Now.�

I trigger the drones with a savage grin. These are modified firefighting drones, and instead of water or fire-retardant foam, they�re carrying acid. Nasty stuff that sprays out behind the drones and onto the horde of clustered monsters as they rush us. I almost believe I can hear them scream as the acid eats into their armor and skin. No real time for celebration though, because it�s a short corridor and the first of the Frakin reach us quickly.

The Frakin can only fit three in a line, and that means their greater numbers aren�t as useful. As the monsters rush us, I focus and swing my sword, using Blade Strike to send a screaming blue wave of destruction into my enemies. The Blade Strike shatters carapaces, forcing the monsters to pause long enough for the second Strike to injure and cripple. Their friends don�t wait, clambering over the injured monsters and continuing their headlong rush.

Tahar lets loose a moment later with his beam rifle on full auto. Blueish-white energy plays across the fronts of the monsters, cutting apart shells and cooking exposed flesh. The monsters rushing us don�t care, charging through the beams and my next Blade Strike as if they are nothing, intent on killing us.

�Wall!� roars Capstan.

The mages finally act. Rachel is faster, the ice wall she�s held ready to cast slamming into existence ten meters ahead of us. Aiden backs her wall up with one of made of earth, suddenly cutting the vanguard from the rest of the swarm.

�Charge!� Capstan barks, and Mikito moves.

One second she�s next to us, the next she�s ahead of Tahar, whose rifle has finally run out of charge, and stabbing her polearm into the first monster. The puppies flow without hesitation into the gap that she creates in the line, Max flickering ahead to join Mikito in her attack. Another monster attempts to flank her, and Max bites down, hard, and rips off a leg before flickering back and away from the stinger counterattack. Bella charges in, grabbing the stinger in her System-enhanced teeth and shattering the appendage before retreating backward. Shadow can�t fit in behind the pair, but that�s okay, since its shadow can. When a claw swings at Bella, it gets caught and held by the shadow as the puppy flexes its power.

Tahar rushes down his side, literally running up the side of the wall for a moment to get around the puppies and get to his own target. Capstan takes a much more direct route, launching himself over the frontline, his hammer held between both hands. Blocked, I have no target, so I step backward, letting others get a view while I check on my drones.

All three drones are undamaged, but their payload is empty now. They�ve taken to their secondary orders, which involve sticking as far up on the ceiling as possible at different locations through the cavern. This gives me a wide view of the cavern while drawing the angry Frakin to different spots. Sadly, none of the Frakin are dead from the acid alone, but many of those caught in the overlap of the acid sprays look much the worse for wear. Damn it! We were hoping to reduce their numbers significantly before we had to finish this.

Turning my attention back to the fight in front of me, I see Mikito caught in a claw and smashed into a wall. The monster is crushing her while Bella is kept back by the other claw. The only good news is that Mikito managed to lop off its stinger before it caught her. As I raise the Inlin�s barrel on my arm, an earth spike shoves upward and spears the monster, forcing it to open its claw spasmodically. The distraction is all Bella needs to get in close and rip the offending claw away from its body, ending the monster as a threat.

As the earth spear retracts to give us room to fight, I rush forward, jumping to close the distance. There�s not much clearance, so I�ve got only a moment to judge what is going on before I land. Capstan is fighting two of the monsters, easily holding his own, while Tahar is smashing apart another monster. The other puppies have taken a series of wounds, including a yellowish, deep gash down Max�s side that I don�t like the look of.

I land and open fire with the Inlin, switching to full auto for a moment to spray the monsters and those behind, projectiles drilling through armored carapaces and leaving gaping wounds. Unfortunately, it�s only seconds before I run dry and have to get medieval.

After a sharp whistle, the huskies pull back, letting the mages land a series of fast, targeted spells at the remaining monsters. Their attacks give the melee fighters a moment�s respite, enough for most of us to kill our remaining opponents. A healed Mikito flashes forward to back up Capstan, sliding underneath his swings with ease. We have a few seconds to savor our victory over the vanguard before a claw punches through the earth wall.

Here we go again.

A good thirty minutes later, we�ve had to retreat all the way into the original cavern. Not because we can�t beat the damn Frakin but because the bodies keep piling up such that it gets difficult to fight. We got into a rhythm halfway in, getting comfortable trading people in and out so that no one ran out of Stamina. A lot less of a problem for me and Capstan, but the others had started to slow down as the monsters kept coming and coming.

I even had to light up the entire room once with a Lightning Strike, dumping nearly the entirety of my Mana into the monsters to give us a break. Beautiful thing about electricity�most creatures really can�t move much when you�re frying them.

In the end, no one died and we finally get back into the first cavern. We take the time to rest and loot while Ali and our drones are sent to scout out the exits we�ve found. He can�t go far, not in a dungeon, but between him and the drones, we begin to build a map of the dungeon and the threats we face.

�Capstan?� I wave and send the slowly growing map out to him. I couldn�t get the drones too far from Sabre�the high level of Mana in the dungeon meant that the signal broke down too fast. Technically, the drones all have on-board software that could map the entire dungeon for me, but that�s assuming they don�t run into anything particularly tricky.

The big Yerick stares at the map before he flicks his hand, sending it to Nelia and Richard, while I call the drones back. They�re close to their limit, and if we�re going to make a decision about what to do next, I want them here.

�We doing door number one, two, or three!� Ali intones, pointing at each dark passageway in turn. As he speaks, he lights them up with different colors, though I�m pretty sure that�s only for me.

The large cavern that we rest in has been set up with additional lights by the Yerick and mages, giving us a base we can fall back on if necessary. Following my example from our previous escape, Richard has even taken the time to mine the exit with Claymores and an anti-gravity mine so that if we need to run, we�ve got a bloody distraction.

Capstan shoots the Spirit an annoyed look before he points at door number two. The moment he does so, Aron runs over to the passageway to pull the guard drone back into his inventory. I grunt, mentally making a note to pick some of those up when I can afford it.

As I walk over to the indicated passageway, I pass by where Amelia and Mikito quietly chat.

�Did Una get mad at you?� Mikito says.

�Yeah, she really hated me leaving. Says that policing is safer than Adventuring any day,� Amelia says huffily. �She doesn�t want to understand that I have to Level to stay ahead of the idiots.�

�I know,� Mikito replies.

Then I�m past the pair, staring into the darkness. I fire a single luminescent orb, watching it light up the passageway. I know why Capstan chose this one�for one thing, there�s actually enough clearance for the Yerick to stand straight. Not much chance of that in Option 3, and Option 1 has a tendency to get tight across the shoulders. Still, I have a bad feeling about this.

�Why aren�t they coming?� Aiden mutters nervously.

Aron hisses at the mage and he shuts up, but I don�t blame Aiden at all. He�s just saying what we�re all thinking.

Where we stand a hundred meters from the next cavern, the Frakin should have heard us by now. They should know we�re here and they should be charging us. Instead, they�re doing nothing, just sitting there. I can�t tell for sure, with the low-light vision of the drones, but there�s something wrong with the way they look, something I can�t exactly put my finger on.

�Redeemer, send Ali to roust them,� Capstan growls finally and I nod, sending the mental request to Ali.

�You know, boy-o, I can get hurt. Goblins, other Spirits, spells, elementals� all those things can injure me,� Ali grumbles, beginning to do his light trick.

�Yeah, but not Frakin, right?� I point out and wait for a few more seconds. �Anything?�

�Well, a pair of the bastards looked at me and lobbed something, but none of them are moving,� Ali says.

I report the results back to Capstan. He lets out a growl, his eyes tightening. I don�t much like it either�when monsters stop being super-aggressive, it means they�re smart. Smart monsters are bad. Smart monsters are dangerous.

Finally, Capstan taps Tahar�s shoulder and waves him back. Capstan walks forward till he�s shoulder to shoulder with me. �The Redeemer and I shall proceed first. The rest of you, stay back.�

Great. Just great. I walk forward with Capstan, both of us doing our best to be quiet even though it�s probably utterly useless. Just because I have the best armor and a ton of health, I get to be the guinea pig. At least Capstan is with me.

When we reach the entrance, the Frakin all turn toward us and my minimap blooms. Creatures that were hidden before, that ignored even Ali when he was doing his light show move, suddenly appear. Capstan and I just stare at the Frakin and they back at us, neither of us willing to move.

I�m wondering how the hell we missed this, how the monsters could avoid detection by Ali, when Capstan mutters, �Sixty-seven.�

�Huh?�

�There are sixty-seven Frakin. Levels are the usual, but they are red,� Capstan says, the Yerick seemingly perfectly calm. His tone, his professionalism pulls me back to the present, and I actually look.

�That�s a lot�� I frown, then mutter to Ali, �Any data on the color?�

�Incendiary. Don�t use fire,� Ali says after a moment, shaking his head. �Sorry, boy-o, they fooled me. Something in here was hiding them from me.�

�Why aren�t they charging us?� I growl softly.

Capstan shakes his head. He jerks his head upward after a moment, his lips snarling. �They�re flanking us. Aron just commed�two of our drones are under attack. We have to retreat.� He steps backward and freezes as the Frakin rustle.

Jesus, these guys by themselves could probably rush us all and finish us�they have to flank us too?

�I don�t think they want us to leave�� I eye the monsters, my mind flicking over options. We move, these guys light us up and charge us. We don�t move, their friends sweep in behind us and take us and then these guys will light us up anyway. We need them frozen, held here which means� �Oh hell. On my word, Capstan, run.�

�Redeemer,� Capstan growls softly, and I shake my head.

�No time. You can get my friends out, and I�ve got the mecha. I�ll light these guys up with everything I have and you get running. I�ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, so you just get my friends out,� I say, my voice strangely calm. I�m not angry, surprisingly. What�s there to be angry about? What is, is.

�Honor to your family,� Capstan growls.

I nod, recalling Ali to me and dropping the drones back into my inventory. No need for them to get wrecked. From the corners of my eyes, I see the group already retreating, backing off to where we came from, but they�re going to hit opposition any moment now. I mentally issue a command to the suit, letting it inject every single potion of regeneration into my system before I replace them via my Skill with instant heal potions. I�m as ready as I am going to get, which means�

Now. I trigger the missile launcher, dumping the full load in one wave. Twelve high explosive missiles sent direct into the cavern. The moment I make my move, I see Capstan sprinting away. I take a short hop backward again and again, even as the Frakin open fire, tiny balls of plasma flashing from their stingers.

Then my missiles land and explode and the blast wave is enough to pick me up and throw me backward onto my butt. Sabre�s already cycling and reloading, but I don�t have time for that because the Frakin are rushing the entrance. Seated, I bring my hand up and open up with the Inlin, lobbing armor piercing rounds downrange as fast as I can target a new monster. Five seconds and I�m dry.

Lightning next, a spell that I�ve used so often, the spell formations are second nature to me. I feel myself reaching into it, altering the structure of the spell in a way that has nothing to do with the System, enhancing it with my Affinity, even as Ali ducks overs and helps. We throw electricity and death down the cavern hallway. All the while, plasma lands around us, burning through armor and circuity in search of my flesh.

We bring death, and for a time, it�s enough. The missiles killed a bunch. The electricity strikes stun and eventually kill the vanguard. When the vanguard dies, I wait a moment for the monsters to clump together again before I loose another wave of missiles, backing off a bit and hunkering under the blast wave before backing off further. I repeat the shoot-and-lightning process once more and start feeling light-headed, my Mana down to nearly fifteen percent.

Pain as plasma sears my skins, the temperature in the cavern so intense, it cuts through my battle haze. Without my Resistances, without Sabre, I�d be dead already. Sabre whines and cycles, attempting to fix itself and load my weapons, but there�s only so much it can do. I reach into my inventory with a thought and drop a portable shield generator, activating it with a flick of a hand before I run away. It lasts for three seconds before it blows.

By then I�ve dropped a second generator. Outside of the punishing heat, the second generator lasts seven seconds before the plasma bolts tear the shielding apart. Five thousand Credits each time, all gone. I can�t even mourn it as I hit the spot where the team planted the Chaos mines in the vain hope I could get there. Ali�s zipped right ahead of those, not wanting to get caught when I release them. I don�t want to be there either�Chaos mines are powerful but cheap. You never know what you�ll get.

�John!� Ali screams and flashes the map up to me as we take the next corner.

I see it�the others are caught, stuck in a bottleneck, unable to push past the monsters that clog the exit. I stick my head around the corner, back the way we came.

The Chaos mines go off and maybe we�re lucky, but they rip open a portal and tentacles of lurid yellow and pink stick out, grabbing and pulling in Frakin. There�s something in there, something that even with my mental resistances, I can�t see, can�t comprehend. Or maybe it�s because of the mental resistances that I can�t comprehend what�s in there.

�Shield up. NOW,� snaps Ali.

I comply, then suddenly my eyes are filled with notifications.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 30 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 6 Free Attribute Points to distribute. You have 6 Class Skills to distribute.

I�ve been saving my points, my Class Skills for a rainy day and for Level 30. I might not have much time to use it, but I�ll be damned if I don�t see what I can do. I slam my points into my Class Skills and feel the ice cold rush of knowledge and pain that hammers into my body as the System grants my wish.

Chapter 15

I come back to my senses in time to see Sabre�s shield fail. To see the damage icons, feel the heat radiating from the missed and blocked plasma bolts, to taste the dryness in my mouth and the smell of cooked flesh and ash. I come back to see the Frakin storming me, and I grin.

My friends are behind me, fighting their own battle in a desperate attempt to escape. I need to buy them time, time enough to break through, time enough to live. I find myself grinning, laughing as pain courses through my body, as new knowledge and abilities resolve themselves in my mind.

I flicker, one second crouched and the next behind my attacker, spinning to punch my sword through it. I step and kick out with Sabre, mecha- and System-enhanced strength picking up the Frakin and sending it bowling into its friends. Even as the monsters fire on me, their shots explode against my newly created Soul Shield. The translucent barrier of Mana absorbs the damage and covers both Sabre and me. I duck to the side, grabbing one of the Frakin by its tail and lifting it, using its body to shield me against more attacks while I wait.

Time. I�m fighting for time. I feel my Soul Shield flare, cutting off plasma blasts that slip around my improvised shield. When the Frakin stops twitching, I send it flying into its buddies, then I step sideways, giving myself a few moments to open up with the Inlin. I shoot to cripple even as the Soul Shield flares red.

�Corner,� snaps Ali.

I trigger Blink Step and cut across the corner. I snap the Shield off the moment I�m away.

�Sticky grenades!�

I pull and throw. I bounce three around the edges, following the lines of power that Ali drops into my vision. The explosion is muted, and for a few moments, silence holds as the creatures struggle.

�Polar zone,� is the next command from the diminutive olive-complexion Spirit who hovers and plays eyes for me.

I spin around the corner, raising my hand and casting the spell. The glue-cement mixture that makes up the grenades is already melting and burning in the residual heat. I let the spell loose, and the fires go out, the glue hardening again. Resistant to heat and cold or not, the Frakin aren�t used to sudden temperature changes and their carapaces shatter, exposing yellow flesh to the cold.

A mental command and the barely regenerated shield in Sabre flickers to life before me. I open fire with the Inlin, each shot shattering frozen flesh and scattering limbs. Bodies pile up and monsters die, but the next wave is already here, firing plasma bolts at me. I spin back around the corner as a plasma bolt burns through Sabre�s shield and its armor into my stomach. I groan, the fire quenched in my flesh, and I thank the vagaries of the System even as my health drops precariously. I trigger the potions, watching my health shoot up as my Mana refreshes itself. Unfortunately, the instantaneous potions only work a couple of times a day, after which they lose all effectiveness.

Between the initial health regeneration potion, my spell of Greater Regeneration, and my Skill Body�s Resolve, I can literally see my body stitch itself together. It�s a battle of attrition now, and even with all my Class Skills allocated and Ali watching and calculating, all I�m doing is buying seconds.

�Missiles!� Ali chants.

I snap around the corner, Soul Shield triggered. I open up with the missiles, my last full load, and watch as they fly out, shattering bodies and splintering rock. The dungeon�s walls crack and shatter but they don�t come down, and I snap back around my corner. The monsters are barely five feet away now. I skip back a few steps, wishing that the dungeon hadn�t reinforced the structure of the walls. It�d be so easy if we could bring the walls down�

One, two, three seconds as the monsters recover and race across the ground, skimming over the dead bodies of their comrades. I pull out my sword and set myself, waiting. Health about a quarter, Mana nearly all gone. I have enough Mana to trigger Soul Shield one last time and then... and then it�s over. I stop looking, knowing there�s no point. I can buy them a few more seconds, so that�s all that I can do.

�Incoming,� Ali intones.

I meet the first Frakin as it skitters around the corner, its legs attempting to find purchase as it makes the turn. Time to finish this.

The sunlight of the exit is the best damn thing I�ve felt in ages. I walk out, helmet down as I soak in the liquid happiness, under-armor burnt to a crisp on my body. Sabre is stored in my Altered Space, so damaged that its actuators no longer work. I look around, the Frakin scrambling left and right as they sweep the exit and the surroundings, and I shake my head.

�Best get moving, boy-o, you�ve only got another minute left,� Ali intones and I grunt.

�Give me a break,� I mutter.

Then I lurch ahead, the burnt shell of my right leg barely wanting to move. It doesn�t help that my balance is completely thrown off by the fact that I�m missing everything from my left arm down, the casualty of a too slow dodge. It�s only some Adventure-strength painkillers and a hell of a lot of willpower that keeps me on my feet as my body works to stitch me together. I pass right through the Frakin in front of me, the counter in my left eye ticking down the time I have left on the QSM.

As I told Capstan, I�ve got a few tricks left up my sleeve.

Finding the group is easy�the rally point was the same spot we found ourselves the last time. I�m half-healed by the time I make my way to them, and as always, it�s the puppies who note me first. Shadow hits me so hard, he knocks me over, and I find myself being assaulted by wet tongues. Trust me, a pony-sized puppy has a very big and wet tongue.

Eventually the Huskies are pulled away and I�m dragged to my feet by my friends, everyone looking a bit shocked. I let my eyes survey the group, assessing the damage.

�Again, Richard?� I blink, staring at his missing foot.

He nods slightly, glancing at the stump of my arm, which is slowly reforming. Amelia is seated next to him, a pale pink shroud covering her upper body as replacement skin. She seems unconcerned by the pain, drinking from a water bottle, but her slightly too large pupils tell me she�s drugged out of her mind. Most of Mikito�s armor and clothing has been burnt off, the shreds not even covering her dignity. The normally reserved Japanese lady is so tired, she doesn�t even care. Rachel�s missing most of her hair and is dressed in civilian clothing while Aiden� well, Aiden looks fine actually.

As bad as the humans look, the remaining Yerick are even worse for wear. None of the Yerick seems to have any fur left, most of it burnt to a crisp, and Nelia seem to be missing one of her horns. Aron lies on the ground, bare-chested as his flesh slowly knits over exposed bone, the side of his face bandaged. Capstan, on the other hand, looks to have been in the blender. There�s so much blood, some of it still leaking from him, that I can�t tell where the injuries start and his skin ends. That he�s still standing is freaking impressive. When I raise an eyebrow at Capstan, he just shakes his head.

Thousand hells. I close my eyes for a second, feeling frustration boil out of me before I push it down. Not right now, we�re still too close. Later, later, I can process my feelings about losing another.

On the way back, my body curled up against the puppies in the back of the truck, I take the time to review the piled up notifications.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1420

Stamina

1420

Mana

1100

Mana Regeneration

77 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

133

Constitution

142

Perception

Intelligence

110

Willpower

112

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Blade

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Instantaneous Inventory*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Effect: Increase natural health regeneration by 35%. On-going health status effects reduced by 33%. Honor Guard may now regenerate lost limbs. Mana regeneration reduced by 15 Mana per minute permanently.

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulatable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line of sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

I wince again at the low, low Mana regeneration rates. Gods, I�m going to have that get fixed at some point, but without increasing my passive healing, I�d be a lot deader. Thank the gods that the System has more than one way to get your body patched fully. I admit, I�m a little curious to see what Mana Shield is like, but I�ll need to dedicate my Class Skill points to Thousand Blades before I have chance to check it out. For now though, I�m happy enough to just chill till we arrive home.

We are a sad and sorry lot by the time we get back to Whitehorse. Most of us have lost our armor, and there are more than few missing limbs in the group.

As we reach the Yerick�s compound first, Capstan turns to each of us. �Tonight, we hold a memorial for Tahar. As blood companions, you are invited.�

Nods and assurances of our presence are given in short order before the rest of us make our way farther into town. Amelia and Richard head directly for the Shop, Mikito helping them along. Aiden breaks away, begging off to his apartment, and suddenly, it�s just Ali and me.

I stare at the buildings, watching people walk without seeing them. We lost. Again. Even with more people, even knowing what we were walking into, we lost.

�John,� Ali speaks, jerking me out of my morose brooding.

�Yes?�

�I grabbed a body. I want you to drop it off with Sally,� Ali sends to me, and I frown, looking at the Spirit. He doesn�t mean for us to� �Well, we moving or not?�

I consider just walking into the Shop to sell it. Going back in was insane. There are other dungeons, other places to explore. We already lost one, why go again? But refusing to do so is a good way to get Ali to whine, and I just don�t have the energy.

�John?� Sally turns from the counter as I walk in, looking at me then at Ali, sympathy etching her face. �Something I can do?�

�Yup, pint-size.� Ali flies over and floats above the counter. �I need an autopsy.�

�I�m an Alchemist not a Doctor. I wouldn�t really know where to start.�

Ali shrugs. �Yeah, yeah, I get it, and I�ll buy it off the System if I need to, but there�s something I need to know. Now, we good to go or not?�

I watch, bemused.

�Ugh� fine. Backroom, but I charge a hundred Credits an hour,� Sally replies and walks toward the back counter, holding up a finger. �And I�m not negotiating on that, Spirit.�

�Got it, pint-size. Just get me the information I need.�

I watch him float away to deposit the body. I sigh, rubbing my temples. He�s right, I know it. There�s something weird going on in that dungeon and we need to know what. I know that, but I find it hard to care right this second.

Chapter 16

That evening, we gather in the Yerick�s compound. A single brazier, no larger than an arm�s length, dominates the square. A small fire burns in it. Strips of cloth, colored red, blue, and gray, are laid alongside brushes and chest-high tables. Yerick move to these tables, where they write on the cloths strips before depositing them beside the brazier.

As the humans gather, Nelia walks up, inclining her head to us. Amelia and Richard have regrown their limbs, and all of us washed and dressed for the ceremony.

�All we ask is that you write a memory of Tahar on a cloth strip, one that has meaning for you. As blood companions, you will use the red strips. Place them in the bowl set aside for such strips. Before the burning ceremony, we will be Gifting his possessions within the clan. In two hours, we will burn the strips to remind Tahar that he is not forgotten, though he resides in the fields of Heaven. Any questions?� When she receives none, Nelia moves away.

The others move ahead and pick up strips of cloth to write.

Ali stays behind, floating next to me, his voice soft. �The Yerick traditionally only used two colors�the blue for family and lovers, and the gray. Blood companions�those the Yerick fought with�would open their arms, bleeding on the gray strips till they turned red.� I look at Ali, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugs. �I figured you�d be into it, boy-o. Being all melodramatic and all. Unless you�re done brooding?�

�Fuck off,� I answer.

�Guess not,� Ali mutters as he floats away to a pile of cloth.

I watch them move around for a while before I make my way over and find a red cloth. I stare at it for a time, wondering what to write, what memory to share. So much blood, death, and pain that we had faced together. Yet it�s not those memories that rise up the strongest.

Tahar, standing on a hillock, laughing as autumn sun pours down on him through a break in the clouds. Covered in mud, hands on his hips as he enjoys the absurdity of the situation�a powerful warrior covered in mud due to a simple misstep.

Three taps with a staff is all that is needed to bring silence to the soft-speaking crowd. The humans have mostly clustered together, though Yerick have come and spoken with us, drawing forth stories as we wait. It�s not all about Tahar of course; conversations turn to the dungeons, to Whitehorse as it was, and the food that we are given. It�s a wake, and there�s only so much that you can say about the departed before you realize it�s time to move on to different topic.

Nelia is standing beside the brazier, an older, gray-haired Yerick beside her. When we are all looking, Nelia speaks. �For Umbrak, a pair of throwing knives. May you learn to find your target.�

A small Yerick child, barely above my hip, scurries forward at his mother�s urging to take the pair of throwing knives that are offered by the older woman. He touches the knives to his forehead then scurries back, embarrassed by the attention.

�For Inunuk, the glow-lamps of Askana that she so admired. May it brighten her evenings with her family,� Nelia says next with a slight gesture. The lamps appear, curving structures of crystal that glow with a pale purple-and-yellow light.

�For Logram, the training weights. Grow strong, brother.�

�For Oranda, the Ares bi-focal pistol that she craved. Remember, seat the battery!�

And on and on it goes. Most gifts are weapons or training equipment, all with a small personalized message. So many gifts, so many messages. I see that I�m not the only human looking surprised. The thought and effort astounds to us. Ali offers little help.

Capstan finds us passing looks of confusion and admiration between us. �Every item we buy, every item we earn or are given, we attach a message or note to it in the System immediately. It is a small Skill, one that is purchased at the Shop for every Yerick at their third rotation. All Yerick do so to ensure that the gift may strengthen the herd. We update the information as and when we need to, but the gifts are our legacy. Our deaths are written in the stars, but even in death, we can strengthen our herd.� Capstan�s deep, grumbly voice is soft so as not to disturb the ceremony.

I see a few nods, even a few questions about what the Skill is called, from my friends. I say nothing, do nothing as I watch the gifts keep coming. I see it now that it�s explained. I watch children given a new gift scurry away, murmuring to themselves. Watch as these children plan for their deaths, for the passing of these newly given items.

�For John Lee, a stash of chocolates. For his temper and our sanity.�

It�s only Ali�s mental hiss that makes me move forward to grab the chocolate that Tahar always seemed to have on hand to offer me when I was grumpy or quiet. I take the product, bowing to his mother, and find myself back at my spot with no memory of the in-between. I find myself saying nothing still, a single chocolate held in hand.

Capstan points at it. �Eat.� I look up and stare at Capstan, who nods at my hand. �Eat. Tahar would not want you angry at his wake.�

I nod and find myself pulling the wrapper apart. The chocolate tastes like ash in my mouth. I eat though, because Capstan is right. My blood sugar is low, and there is more to watch.

Chapter 17

Sally came through for us. The next afternoon, she contacts me with her autopsy results and I rush to the Shop for more details. What she found out confirmed the hunch we had�the Frakin aren�t smart enough, aren�t sentient enough, to plan and plot a trap like that.

Onlivik Spores

A parasitic being, the Onlivik Spores attach to lesser beings and invade their cerebral and nervous system, taking control of conscious mental impulses. Onlivik Spores showcase a rare split-hive mind with a main controller host and varying levels of sophistication and sentience dependent on the number of additional host bodies.

Quest Received�The Onlivik Spores (Shareable)

Destroy the Onlivik Spores that have infected the Frakin in the Two-Horn Mountain Dungeon.

Rewards: 50,000 Credits, 20,000 XP

There�s more, a lot more, in the information I purchased from the Shop, detailing everything from biological details to past encounters with the Spores. Thankfully, it seems that the Onlivik Spores can�t invade System-protected host bodies�at least, not any with any decent amount of Willpower and Constitution. Still, I�m not going to take a chance that we�re all clear, which is why perusing data at the Shop is kept to a minimum. I only stop long enough to get the details on the Spores and how to clear out an infection if there is one among us.

I come back to Earth amid turmoil. Outside the City Center building, the Yerick stand in a group. Capstan is in front, with Nelia standing next to him, and flanking them is Aron and another pair of Yerick I don�t know. Surprisingly, Xev is here in all its glory, maneuvering around in its own powered armor. Sally stands to the side too, arms crossed in anger.

Facing the aliens is a group of humans, made up mostly of the City Council and members of the hunters and butchering yard. Between the group are a very worried Amelia, Vir, and two more of the guards.

�What will you do about this?� Capstan growls, his voice so low it reverberates in my chest. His fur is standing on end, and I can almost see the anger rolling off him.

�Your accusations are unfounded and insulting,� Fred says, nodding to the butchering yard personnel, as he stands there in his pressed suit. He seems confident, standing tall as he opposes the aliens. However, he has his arms crossed and his grip on his upper arm is just a little too tight. �Our men would do no such thing.�

�Lie,� Nelia intones, her voice dispassionate.

�How dare you, you cow!� Eric snaps, his insult eliciting a series of growls from the Yerick.

I�m struck once again that when a Yerick growls, it�s significantly more intimidating than a human�s. Maybe it�s the way they hit lower, deeper notes, or maybe it�s the fact they tower over us mere humans. Either way, the human hunters shift the grips on their guns, which cranks up the tension further.

�Put the gun down,� Amelia snaps when one of the hunters attempts to bring it to his shoulder. She steps in the way, putting her body in front of the barrel. �No one is getting shot today.�

Vir, on the other hand, is speaking to Capstan, his voice low. �First Fist, this is not the way to do things.�

�We have been insulted. Attacked. Disrespected, and now, cheated. We have died for these people. The Yerick will not take any more of this,� Capstan snarls, his voice reverberating. �I demand these Goblin-children return the Credits they have stolen.�

�We have stolen nothing!� Eric snaps.

�Truth,� Nelia intones in that same cold, dispassionate voice.

�There! You see, even your woman knows we speak the truth,� snaps Fred.

�Lie,� Nelia says.

�What?� Eric yelps, eyes swinging between the two as something seems to cross his mind.

Capstan�s lips curl up, a low rumble beginning in his chest.

�Tell your woman to shut up,� Fred snaps.

Capstan moves, surging forward. It is only Vir who manages to make Capstan stop, his body braced against the larger Adventurer.

Fred�s eyes glint in triumph as he adds, �It�s all about violence with you aliens.�

�Enough!� I roar, making my presence known. Gods, I wish I had an Aura or something to make my point, but maybe my reputation of being a complete psychopath will do. �Capstan, you need to stand down.�

The First Fist turns to me, lips drawn as he snarls. �I expected more from you, Redeemer. You protect these humans?�

�If it�ll stop you from attacking? Sure.� I walk forward and watch as the non-human crowd parts around me. I see Sally standing there, arms crossed, and Xev watching me with its bifractal eyes, but my attention is focused on Capstan. �You are better than this.�

�They cheated us,� Capstan rumbles, eyes flaring.

�True,� Nelia intones.

�I heard.� I step forward, putting me in easy reach of the First Fist, and I look up, meeting large brown eyes. �Tell me what is going on and I�ll see what I can do.�

�True.�

Before Capstan can speak, Fred injects, �You have no authority here!�

I hold up a finger for Capstan then turn to meet Fred�s eyes. �Shut up. Or else I�ll rip your tongue out and make you eat it.�

�False,� Nelia says.

�Hey, Truth-shitter, we�re trying to help here!� Ali growls while Fred smirks.

�Fine, try this. If you don�t shut up, I�ll gag you and sit on you. I might even fart a little,� I snap, irritated.

�And he had beans,� Ali adds.

�True,� Nelia says.

Fred shuts up and I grin, absently noting more than a few humans smiling slightly. Yes, my threat was childish, but it�s effective.

�John��

�You too, Amelia. I�m not going to kill him or hurt him. Just shut him up.�

Her lips tighten, but I note she restrains herself from doing anything. Thank the gods she�s predictable�so long as things stay verbal, she won�t step in.

�Now, Capstan?� I ask.

�We have learnt that you humans have been short-changing us. Your butchering yard men have been taking parts of the kills and under-reporting what we have brought back. It was subtle at first, but it has grown extremely blatant.�

�Truth,� Nelia says.

Fred and more than a few humans shoot her a glare. I can�t help but flick a glance at her then at Ali.

�You got it, boy-o. She�s channeling a Skill that lets her tell the truth of a statement. As the speaker knows it,� Ali explains.

�Fred, your turn,� I say.

�I don�t answer to you,� Fred says.

I consider my next steps quickly. I could beat the florid politician till he tells me what I want to know, but I�m trying to stop violence here. On the other hand�

�Okay. It was more out of courtesy anyway. I�ll just buy it at the Shop.� I glance at Capstan, who inclines his head in agreement.

Fred frowns, but it�s Minion who speaks. �What do you mean, buy it at the Shop?�

�Everything�s for sale, idiot. I�ve told you before. All you need to do is be willing to pay the System�s price,� I answer, turning back to Minion. �This little scheme of yours? Real dumb. You might not have broken any Galactic Law, but you�ve not gotten away with it either. There�s no getting away with anything in this world�it�s always, always recorded.�

Eric snaps his mouth shut, blinking. When Nelia says, �Truth,� he flinches before he points at her. �How do you know she�s telling the truth?�

�Because that�s her Skill, and Class too I�m guessing. She could be lying, but the Yerick aren�t dumb. They know the System and know what an accusation like this could mean,� I say.

Minion�s lips firm even further. One thing about Eric, as annoying as he might be, he�s also smart.

�Truth,� Nelia says again.

I shoot her a glare. She�s doing that each time we say something that isn�t a question, which is actually becoming a little annoying. She must be a riot at parties when she does this.

Miranda�s lips thin, her eyes hard before she jerks her head slightly. �You�re saying we really cheated them?�

�You cannot be serious? You�re willing to believe this rubbish? What is the System? An all-seeing God?� Fred says, waving. �Come on, if the System knew all this, why�d it take them so long to figure out who burned down the Yerick�s buildings?�

�It didn�t,� Amelia says. �We knew who it was almost immediately. Hell, even with my own skills, I figured it out within a few days. We just wanted to make sure.�

�Truth.�

Fred sniffs. �Another damn alien lover. You all band together.�

Amelia opens her mouth to speak but is cut off by Miranda, who says, �Assuming what you say is true, what is stopping the System from lying to us?�

�Never been a case that that�s been proved,� Ali pipes up. �And trust me, with the way we use the System, we�d know.�

�Truth.�

A dark worm of worry gnaws at my gut at that pronouncement, but Miranda nods slightly. �Very well. I�ll go along with this. I had no hand in the cheating.�

�Truth.�

�Neither did I!� Eric spits out before anyone else can say anything.

�Truth.�

That�s not entirely surprising after all the protests before, but somehow, I�m still slightly shocked that Minion isn�t part of Fred�s little scheme.

While I�m dealing with my prejudices, Miranda continues. �Very well, First Fist, is it? Are you willing to discuss this matter in a more relaxed setting? Something a little less� aggressive?�

Capstan rumbles slowly, looking between Fred and Miranda and me, doubt on his face.

Vir speaks then. �May I offer my services in this mediation? I believe Lord Roxley would want this matter settled amicably.�

Fred opens his mouth to say something and I reach into my inventory, making a piece of rope appear. I hold it in front of him, and he shuts his mouth with a clack.

Amelia, on the other hand, rolls her eyes, pushing my hand down. �I will take care of the mayor.� She takes hold of Fred�s arm, her face professional. �We�ll be in my office.�

I consider objecting then decide to let it go. Not my place. Anyway, interrogating Fred for what he knows is probably something I should leave to the professional. She might object to more violent measures, but the police have been worming confessions out of suspects for decades without resorting to thumbscrews.

�You know, Ali, the other thieves are going to run,� I think to my friend, and I hear his mental snort.

�Where to?�

I consider his answer then smile grimly. He has a point. In an apocalypse, there really isn�t anywhere to run. Sally prods me in the stomach while I�m thinking, and I remember why I came out from the Shop. A moment later, she has the same information I do, which has her hurrying back to her store to do a quick check.

�Ali��

�Some of us can multi-task. Already scanned and the group here is clear. Once the others are in range, I�ll scan them too.�

Guess that means I need to hunt down Aiden. The crowd is breaking up�Vir, Capstan, Nelia, and the Councilors headed into the Council�s offices, the hunters dispersing. Xev skitters up and over the buildings, probably back to its workshop. I sigh, rubbing my temples. At some point, we�ll have to let the others know in more detail, but at least for now, we should be safe.

�Again.�

Hours later, I�m in my living room in the dark, staring at glowing System screens of the battle. Thanks to the drones and Ali, I�ve got multiple recordings of the entire delve. I�ve been watching the recordings from start to finish, again and again, analyzing each moment, each interaction, looking for something, anything that can give us an advantage.

Sixty-seven Frakin stare at me from the screen, silent and eerie as when we first encountered them. They don�t move, don�t twitch, and yet, staring at the recording, I can see the marks of the spore infection on all of them.

�Pause.�

The screen pauses and I reach out, swinging footage from my desperate fight with the Frakin in the tunnels. I watch as I duck and weave, jumping and twisting between the Frakin. I watch as I trigger Blink Step, flicking out of sight and reappearing in front of the horde that streamed pass me, plasma bolts flaring all around.

�Again.�

I watch the fight, watch the dance of pain that I lay about me and the bolts of plasma that miss me by inches.

�Again.�

I watch as I Blink, then I see it, what my subconscious mind picked up and what has been nagging me. I raise my hands, backing both screens up to where I want them to start, then I twitch my hands again, pulling up my minimap. I set up a pair of maps, then I set the timelines to play at the right time.

�Start.�

It�s there. Just a brief flicker of movement, so small I can barely see it, but it�s there. A hesitation, a skip in the beat of attacks. When the Frakin are told to attack, the ripple happens at the back and flows outward to the front, the passage of the command so fast it�s barely noticeable even with my enhanced attributes. At the same time, I spot a stutter in the movements on the map. It happens when I Blink, when I shift positions in an instant. That stutter happens when the Frakin are attempting to reacquire me.

�Weird,� Ali says, and I nod slowly.

I stare at the screens in silence. I can see it�but I�m not even sure what I�m seeing.

�John?� Lana calls as she stomps down the stairs, sounding angry.

I look up from the windows, wondering what I did wrong. �Lana�?�

�Did you hear what Bill is doing?� she snaps, stalking in and throwing herself into a seat next to me.

�Uhh��

�He�s started a strip club!� she snarls, gesturing with her hands. �The old motel he took over, he turned it into a strip club. And he�s selling drugs from it!�

�Oh.� I absently pull out a chocolate bar.

Before I can eat it, she snatches it out of my hands. I stare at my empty hands for a moment before pulling out another.

�Oh! Is that all you can say?� Lana snaps, eyes cold in the dim light. �He�s exploiting women! And selling drugs to everyone who goes in. We�ve been trying to keep that contained and he, he�s just selling them!�

�Have you talked to him?�

�Of course I have. We have. He�s saying he�s doing nothing wrong! Since Roxley is the owner of the city, it�s his laws that Bill�s abiding by and there aren�t any Galactic Laws against it. He says he�s providing �gainful employment� for women and that we should be happy he�s contributing,� she growls, snatching my half-eaten bar again from my hand and chewing on it. �He�s� grumphff� such an� mmmm� ass. Is this nougat?�

�Yes.�

�I hate nougat.� She hands me back my mostly consumed bar and waits for me to deposit another in her outstretched hand.

�Well, it was mine,� I point out, and she just shoots me a look that makes me smile.

�It�s not funny,� she snaps, though with less heat.

�No, but he is right. The City Council, well, it really isn�t a real ruling body. Not in the System sense. And unless you guys are willing to physically force him to stop, there�s not much you can do.�

She nods, arms crossed. �I know. It�s just� I hate strip clubs. They�re so� so� demeaning!�

�And you don�t mind the drugs?�

Lana grimaces, looking at her hands. �It�s� not great. But it�s been getting worse anyway. Amelia and Vir had to shut down a drug-making operation in one of the residences because they nearly blew up the block. At least Bill�s is less� lethal. And he keeps rooms and places for them to use. We� I can�t stop them. This world, it�s just� it�s just hard.�

Hard. That�s one way of putting it. She chews on her chocolate bar in silence after that. I don�t break the silence, instead shooting a glance at the screens I was watching. Ali keeps silent, knowing better than to say anything.

�You know, the Council�s reforming itself.�

�Oh, really?�I don�t even bother to hide my disinterest.

�Yeah. After Fred�s� the incident, well, we�re thinking we�ll try, we will, involve the Yerick a little more. Maybe get them a seat or something.�

�Uh huh.�

�You want in?�

�In� what?� I sit up, staring at her.

�In the Council. I�m sure I could get you one.� Lana says, rubbing her nose. �God knows, Jim will back me. And probably Miranda.�

�No. Gods, no. I�d rather listen to Ali sing La Bamba, with his swings for a whole day than do that.�

�Oh God, you love me. You really love me,� Ali croons and I glare at him.

�Sorry. Sorry. I know, it isn�t what you want,� Lana says, slumping in the chair. She catches my glances to the side where my screens float unseen and frowns. �What are you doing?�

�Analyzing the delve.� I gesture her over. �Come here, look at this.�

She scoots over to my couch and sits next to me, leg pressed against mine.

For a moment, I just enjoy the closeness before I refocus on the task at hand. �Ali, share and show.�

�I should never have told you I could do this. I�m not a damn AI. you know,� Ali grumbles but he does as I ask.

�Oh, those things are disgusting,� Lana says.

�Yeah. Again, Ali.�

�Yes, master.�

�Again.�

�Again,� Lana replies almost immediately after it stops this time. �Wait�� Lana falls back, staring at the ceiling, biting her lower lip. After a moment, she looks at Ali, who dutifully runs it again. When it�s over, she nods firmly and looks at me. �There�s a stutter, isn�t there?�

�Yes.�

�Huh. So�?� She tilts her head, obviously expecting me to say something brilliant.

�So. Yeah, a stutter.� I shake my head and just talk because well, something might come from it. �The Spores are a hive mind, but they�ve got a single controlling host. It looks like that means they can�t focus on more than a few things a time. The Frakin, they can act autonomously, but if they get out of� of� script, well, they need redirection. When they need to start a new program, they�.�

�They�?�

I blink, looking at Lana, and grin. �They�re a program. The Spores can�t control all of the Frakin individually, and the Frakin don�t really have conscious thoughts anymore. So they set up programs, certain behaviors. Break out of the program and the Frakin need to be reset.�

Lana nods, trying to see what has me so excited.

�Don�t you get it? It�s a program! And what do you when you want to break a program?�

�Pull the power cord?�

Ali snorts while I continue to grin. �Introduce a virus.�

It�s only a couple of hours later that I find myself speaking with a thin, bespectacled man. Leonard worked in the hospital�s analysis department before the System came, and he gained a rather weird Class called Bio-Technician. It�s similar to Sally�s Alchemist Class, except he specializes in the organic side of things. Like most people in the Yukon, when the System came into play, he had the choice of taking the System-generated �best� option or taking the hour to sort through and find something he could use. No big surprise that like most people, he went with the option offered to him. Few people had the time, ability, or desire to sort through the millions of options available. Mikito�s husband and Jason were the only two that I knew of for sure, though I�m sure some of the Raven�s Circle probably did too.

Sally was my first choice for this request, but it seems that small biological creatures are outside of her purview. Leonard was actually my third choice. My second�the Shop�turned out to be rather expensive. It seems I�m not the only one who has considered biological warfare, and the System Shop helpfully discourages that by pricing everything extremely high.

�Can you do it?� I ask Leonard as he peruses the biological information I�ve provided him on the Frakin.

�No,� Leonard says, ignoring me and continuing to talk to Lana. He�s been doing that the entire time we�ve been here. �I don�t have the Skills to kill off the Spores. I don�t even have the equipment to even start making something that could kill them.�

I snarl then force myself to calm down. Shit. The Shop it would be except� well, let�s just say Sabre cost less than the solution. By a few orders of magnitude.

�Isn�t there something we can do?� Lana smiles at Leonard and, I swear, bats her eyelashes.

�Well� ahem� maybe. I could maybe give them a bit of a cold,� Leonard replies, and I roll my eyes. He obviously picks it up, pointing at me. �A really bad flu. Something that would disorient, maybe even kill a few of them.�

�That�d be helpful,� Lana interjects, grabbing Leonard�s hand and drawing his attention again. He smiles as she continues. �How long would it take?�

�Well, this isn�t, you know, like hitting things. It�s complicated. You�ve got to create a basic model then make multiple versions of each and run them all through a simulator. It�d be better if I had an actual creature to experiment on��

�How long, four eyes?� Ali says.

Of course Leonard doesn�t wear glasses anymore, but I have to agree he probably did wear them before the System.

�Two, maybe three weeks,� Leonard snaps at Ali.

Lana nods, squeezing his hand again. �Thank you. I�ll make sure to check in with you every few days.� She smiles at Leonard, who bobs his head excitedly.

I watch Lana flirt with him a little more before we finally leave, Leonard promising to get us the first sample as soon as possible.

Outside, I thank Lana, who just shakes her head. �Don�t. I�m just doing what I can to make sure you and my brother come back.� I nod and she adds, �It�s not enough, you know.�

�I know.� I exhale, staring at the setting sun. Disrupting them, making the Spores less effective will help, but there were still too many damn Frakin. We need something else, another edge. �I know.�

Chapter 18

When the snow comes to stay, it does so without warning. Overnight, the clouds dumped over three feet of snow on the ground. No big surprise, no one has taken the time to fix up the snowplows or the salting trucks. On the other hand, who needs snowplows when you�ve got muscle-bound warriors and mages?

I stand outside on one of our watchtowers we�ve set up around the house, watching as the Hunter teams work together to clear the roads. Most of them are just walking around with appropriated bulldozer plows, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs, and tossing the snow onto unused lawns. On other streets, mages work by channeling low-grade fire spells to just melt the snow off the roads, letting the water run into the sewers while they stand comfortably on dry porches. Occasionally, the lack of co-ordination between the two groups ends up with one group being buried in a house or a flood of lukewarm water running onto cleared streets while people are still working.

A smaller group of citizens run from unoccupied residence to residence, ensuring that the water mains are turned off and water tanks emptied. I�m guessing they�re being managed by the newly-recreated General Council. Now, both the Yerick and Sally have seats at the table which should help matters. They�ve even finally added Lana to the table, though she�s a lot unhappier about Bill being included too. Either way, the new General Council finally seems to include everyone. I hear Roxley�s even given it his blessing by assigning Vir to mediate issues.

The more I see of Vir, the less inclined I am to believe that he�s just a promising lieutenant under Roxley�s service. I know, firsthand, how strong the First Fist is, and the fact that Vir managed to stop him was impressive. That Roxley is willing to give him free rein to chair the Council is another indicator that the Truinnar is more than he seems. I definitely need to keep a closer eye on the Lieutenant in the future.

Mayor-troublemaker Fred hasn�t been seen in Whitehorse since the blowout. Amelia has no idea what happened to him, and all Vir will say that he has been �dealt with appropriately.� When Richard heard that, he recommended we go look in the river. Myself, I think Roxley has better sense than to completely waste a resource. After all, I�m sure Fred could be sold for something in the Shop, even if it was just cheap parts. No surprise, there�s some grumbling about the high-handed way Fred was dealt with, but it�s been muted for the most part. Overall, while the Council hasn�t fixed things between the races, at least it�s a start.

In the distance, clear spaces in the schools have been turned into winter playgrounds with groups of children working to make the largest snowmen. Funny thing about System-enabled children�some of them are pretty damn strong and agile. Some of those snowmen have begun to top the buildings. Those never last long though, as children throw themselves off the roofs to knock the snowmen down amid screams of laughter and cries for more. I watch a kid, probably no older than five, pick up a snowball twice his size and toss it at another kid. The subsequent explosion and peals of laughter aren�t enough to stop a minder from running over to chasten the kid. I barely need the magnification in my helmet to see the grin on the kid�s face.

Overall, it�s a tranquil-looking state of affairs a few weeks after we had our asses kicked so hard. Tranquil, yet I can�t stop the worm of doubt in my gut.

Have you ever found something you�re passionate about, then realized no one else gives a shit? Yeah, that�s been my life for the last week. Outside of Ali and Lana, everyone else has given up on the dungeon.

When I brought up re-raiding the dungeon, Capstan said, �There are many more dungeons to clear. Sometimes, one must accept the limits of one�s current level and move on. The Yerick do not fight unwinnable battles.�

I�ll admit, I was almost tempted to bring Tahar up right then and there. Almost. I do have a little bit of a sense of self preservation. I was still disappointed, especially when he also added that they�d be spending a few weeks breaking in a new party member.

Richard and Mikito both nodded agreeably when I brought up the matter, but beyond that, neither seemed particularly interested in my explanations and theories. I�m not sure if they just figure I�ll do all the planning or that, like Capstan, they�ve already moved on. After the latest round of agreeable but non-productive discussions, I stopped talking with them about it.

Amelia has her work cut out keeping the peace, especially since Vir seems to be stuck in meetings half the time. The few times she and I have met up, she only complains about breaking in a new partner and mutters about �Rules of Force.� I�ve started avoiding her myself since she shoots me a dirty glare whenever she gets onto that topic.

Aiden flatly told me to get out when I brought up going out again, and Rachel, well, Rachel�s not much better. She�s been hanging out with Aiden more and more, teaching and training others, but has pretty much stopped going out on even simple hunting missions. Even I�m not dumb enough to push her�losing another party member right after losing most of her group was probably not the best return to hunting. The only time we get her to come with us on our excursions is when we head in to Carcross.

Everyone�s taken their eye off the dungeon, and I don�t blame them. Not really. We tried it twice and we got our asses kicked both times. Yet something tells me that waiting will just make it worse.

�Boy-o?� Ali floats next to me as I finish my cup of coffee. �We doing this?�

�Just finishing my coffee.� Sometimes, I hate being me.

Downstairs, I hold my hand and call her forth from my Altered Space. I can�t keep her in my inventory or she wouldn�t fix herself, so for the last little while, Sabre�s been sitting in my Altered Space except when I�m busy hunting.

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Structural Integrity: 82%

System Integrity: 94%

Damn but that last fight kicked her ass. The good news is that the adaptive armor has added a twenty percent resistance to plasma and high heat effects. The bad news is that it�ll take at least a few more weeks, assuming she doesn�t get damaged further of course, before she�s fully repaired. Thankfully, the only thing the repairs cost me this time was a whole bunch of materials, which I do have. Using Elementally-charged gold as a major component for replacements has added streaks of dark yellow to the armor plates. Thankfully, Elementally-altered gold isn�t as soft as the real stuff or else the bike would really come apart in my next fight.

I stand there stroking my bike, and I know all I�m doing is procrastinating. Thinking of stupid shit because I know what I�m about to do is dumb. Everyone else has let this go�why can�t I? I exhale, shaking my head, and glance at the bike one last time.

Hunii Dragonfly Drone (Scouting Type IV -Modified)

This dragonfly drone comes equipped with multiple visual and audio recording options and can update 3-D landscaping maps. Has been modified to carry additional storage items.

Operating time: 2 Hours

Storage: Bio-dispersal container

Leonard came through with the virus. Now the question is, will this work? There�s really only one way to tell, and that way requires me to head back into the dungeon. Let�s just hope they aren�t waiting for me.

�Boy-o,� Ali sends to me, flicking to me a video of what he�s seeing.

I slow down then come to a stop, crouching behind an insufficiently large tree while I review the footage. It�s a cat mutation of some form, a former housecat turned into a six-foot creature of spikes, scales, and fangs. I nod slightly as I stare at the monster just sitting there, watching the trail. Creepy but not surprising�cats are known to be ambush creatures after all.

�See it. Doesn�t look too hard.�

�Not that. That.� Ali manipulates the System and the video floats higher as he does so, giving me a clearer view as he highlights the spots he sees. Right behind the head, a small yellowish-greenish bump that I�d missed.

�Is that�?� I gulp.

�Onlivik Spores, yes,� Ali replies. �It�s spreading outside the dungeon.�

�How?�

�Don�t know. My guess�either the Spores were never part of the dungeon initially, or they just escaped the System�s controls because we�re not fully integrated yet,� Ali replies.

I find myself grunting. �How fast?�

�What am I? A silicone dummkopf? Fast. We�re about two miles out from the dungeon and it�s got scouts watching for problems,� Ali says.

I sigh. Shit. �All right, can we get a message back to the city? Package the video and send via one of the drones. We still need to get this virus into the dungeon.� If I die, the city needs to know.

�Do this, Ali. Do that, Ali,� Ali mutters as he focuses, sending the appropriate commands to one of our last drones. �Done.�

�Yeah, but it�s more fun to listen to you whine.�

I shut up after that, focusing on skimming around the cat. Better to find a way in that doesn�t attract any attention if I can. I�ll be making enough noise when I do get in.

Two weeks, and other than the snow, the area around the dungeon hadn�t changed a bit. Snow-covered slopes, heavily laden trees, and the occasional set of tracks from a snowshoe hare or some weirder, unidentified creature is all that marks the terrain. As always, the Yukon is gorgeous and scenic, but this time round, I�m more concerned about leaving easy-to-follow tracks than how pretty everything is.

Unfortunately, there�s not much I can do about the fact that each of my armor-clad steps is leaving a set of tracks a blind man could follow. The only thing that can fix that is a strong wind or another big snowfall, and the clear skies and dead air tell me I�m not in luck today. It makes my path into the dungeon a circuitous and slow route, but luckily, the Onlivik Spores seem more interested in setting up fixed guard positions rather than roving guards.

Interestingly enough, there aren�t any guards at the actual dungeon entrance itself. I�m not sure if the Spores are just that confident or just that dumb, but I�ll take it. Not that I expect my presence to be hidden very soon.

In the first chamber, I find nothing. It�s rare to find monsters hanging out in the first chamber of most dungeons. At most, you get a trap. For a moment, I wonder why that is before I refocus. Right. Horde of mind-controlled Frakin ready to burn me to pieces.

Finding a place to hide is a tense, stomach-clenching affair even if I�m not heading much farther than the first cavern. I know I can run with the QSM, but its five-minute charge makes it a trump card I can only play with care. That means good old Stealth skills are more important in everyday use, and luckily, all that time hunting solo has leveled mine up significantly.

Once I�m hidden, I launch my last two drones. I wish I had all three, but getting word back to the city was more important. Curled up in a small rock outcropping halfway up the cavern, I remotely guide the drones in while letting Ali watch out for potential bad guys. I keep the drones high and quiet, edging in deeper and deeper along the paths I can see. I need to hit as many of these Frakin as I can, but there�s only so far that I can guide them before the signal breaks down completely. After that, they�ll have to run on their own on-board programming.

That�s one of the reasons the Yerick don�t use drones much. Not only do you have to have someone watching the drones consistently to get the data you need, it�s often not as good as the information you could get from Skills. Add the fact that if you push them too far, they have a tendency to break down or get smashed by monsters and you can see why the Yerick just don�t see them as a good use of their money. Overall, I can see their points but then you get a situation like this.

I grin as the first drone comes across the first group of Frakin. There�s only a half dozen of them, most of them half-grown, which tells me they haven�t recovered completely from our last encounter. That�s pretty good news. I drop a quarter of one drone�s payload and keep flying, passing my last stand before the signal finally shorts out.

I swear softly, hoping it�s enough. Theoretically, all I need to do is ensure that the virus itself is spread around sufficiently, then it should propagate without a problem. According to Leonard, the virus is both airborne and System-borne�that is, the System helps the infection process. I�m not entirely sure what that means or why he gets grumpy when I call it a virus, but considering I never took biology and he insists on explaining everything in as many four-syllable words as he can, I�m okay with that. So long as it works, I�ll even forgive him for asking Lana out.

Not that I have a right to get angry that he did. It�s not as if Lana and I have done anything more than, well, talk. Irrational jealousy is irrational. So long as I realize it�s irrational, I can keep it in check. However, I do wonder if I should be asking her out�

I grunt, shaking my head, and refocus on the feeds. I need to stop thinking about this. Sitting in the middle of a dungeon, waiting for my drones to either get caught or do their job, is not the right time or place to think about dating. Anyway, I don�t have much to offer the lady�I�m a suicidal, hot-tempered mess of a man. She deserves better.

Thankfully, before I get even more morose and idiotic, the feed from one of my drones comes back. It�s the one I sent on one of the side paths that the Frakin used to flank us before. The moment it connects, the map updates and I let out a low whistle. Jesus�the pathway leads down to a chamber beneath me, which seems to store a huge number of the Frakin. They�re still doing that creepy, completely still thing, not even moving when the drone dumps its cargo.

I don�t have time to watch further though because Ali hisses at me, making my minimap bloom. Looks like the Frakin around me are scuttling now, searching. I guess the other drone got caught. A quick command sends the drone I have in control into hiding and hibernation mode in the vague hope that I can retrieve it later before I drop to the ground and run. Time to go.

Running out of this dungeon with Ali floating beside me is beginning to get very old. A few of the infected monsters charge in, blips on my screen that flow toward me, but I ignore them. I�ve got too much of a head start on all but the cat I�m running toward. Really, it�s stupid of the Spores to charge me�the cat doesn�t stand a chance as I behead it. Then again, we�ve established that the Spores aren�t that smart.

Yet.

Chapter 19

�A bigger, better man would take this opportunity to say I told you so pass him by,� I say into the stunned silence of the gathered great and powerful of Whitehorse after Ali finished his presentation. I let the silence linger for a few more moments. �I told you so.�

�John�� Lana says, her tone cool.

I flash her a smile, but I quiet down. Some are still pushing on their data screens, trying to make the information we presented say something, anything other than what it does. Others, having read it, turn to me or their respective leaders, waiting for an answer. No one provides one though, because there really isn�t an easy answer.

�Very well, Redeemer. You were correct. I expect you have a solution?� Nelia finally breaks the silence, staring at me.

I smile grimly and shake my head. �No, I don�t have a solution. I do have some suggestions. First, we send a team to wipe out the current scouts and guards the Spores have set up. That should slow the spread a bit since it takes a critical mass of the Spores to begin infection. Right, Leonard?�

Leonard twitches, obviously not used to being in this kind of company, before he jerkily nods.

�We�ll still need to deal with the Spores eventually, but taking out the scouts will buy us time. Second, we need an answer from the System, and we need it sooner rather than later. Are the Spores part of the dungeon or are they an invader? The first means we�ll constantly be dealing with their production, constantly having to destroy them as the System recreates the Spores. That means we�ll need a much more permanent solution to their spread.

�The second, well, the second is simpler. We just kill everything that has the Spore and burn it all down.�

�If you knew to ask that question, why didn�t you get the answer?� Bill asks, hands steepled.

I flash him a grin. �Because the answer to that question is about fifty thousand Credits.�

I see more than a few people suck in their breath at the price. No shit, it�s expensive.

It�s Jason, on the video-conference line, who asks the obvious question. �Why do we need to know? If we kill them all and keep them contained in the dungeon, won�t that be enough, even if the dungeon is creating the Spores?�

Vir leans forward in his chair. �No. Infected dungeons are unusual, but they are not unique. An Infected dungeon cannot be contained by just killing the creatures within�eventually, the infection will spread. There are Galactic procedures to contain such dungeons, but they are expensive and require significant time investment. John is correct�understanding what we face is important.�

I nod to Vir before looking at the group to see if there are any further questions. When there aren�t, I add, �Lastly, we�re going to have to clear that dungeon one way or the other. Like any dungeon, if we don�t clear it regularly, it�ll overpopulate and spill out. With an Overmind, that might happen sooner than we�d like, since there�s no in-fighting. We�ve got a week before the Spores feel the effects of the virus, and it�ll take a couple of days before it really gets going. Ten days, right, Leonard?� On confirmation, I continue. �Ten days, then we go in.�

I watch as people grimly accept the deadline, slowly running the numbers through their mind.

Jim frowns, staring into space before he looks back at me, his voice husky from too many cigarettes. �I�ll get a few hunting groups to the dungeon. We can�t contribute much to the attack, not and keep the city safe, but my group and another could help man the area.�

�That�ll be great, Jim,� Lana says, nodding for him to head out.

He gets up, offering a brief nod to everyone before he leaves to brief his people. I almost say something before I decide against it�Jim understands probably better than any of us how strong his hunting group really is. In the assault, they just won�t be that much help.

�We�re in, of course,� Richard says. �We�ve got a couple of Credits saved up we can add to the pot.�

Vir raises a hand, cutting Richard off. �The purchase will be handled by Lord Roxley.�

I nod, grateful for that help. I don�t know how deep his pockets are, though I�ve gotten the feeling they�re not as deep as he�d like us to believe. Still, I�ll take Vir�s word for it. �Thanks.�

Vir nods before looking at the ceiling. �While Lord Roxley is unable to arrive in time for the attack, I believe his guard may contribute a few additional men to the attack. I shall lead them myself.�

Capstan speaks next, his voice a low rumble. �The Yerick can send three Adventuring parties.�

�I�ll speak with Xev to see what it can contribute, but I can outfit a lot of people with potions,� Sally pipes up, her normally cheerful demeanor extremely serious now.

I watch this play out, and a part of me wilts at how mundane it all seems. A part of me expected orchestral music, grand speeches, and declarations of bravery. Instead, we get a boardroom with the clink of ice water and dry allocations of resources and studied consideration. On the other hand, as I look around, I have the feeling that this is a group I want to go to battle with. All but one�

�So, hillbilly, your crew coming?� Ali floats over to Bill, hands on his knees as he sits cross-legged.

Luthien snarls and I get more than a few looks that say the same thing��control your Spirit.� I ignore them.

�We have warned you before, Spirit,� Bill says, raising a hand toward Ali, and a part of me wonders what he thinks he�s going to do. My curiosity almost lets me watch Bill hurt Ali, but that won�t get the answer I want.

�Ali, enough. Be quiet now.� Ali shoots me the most horrified, betrayed look ever until I add, �Because Bill is about to answer your question.�

Luthien turns to look at Bill, her lips parting slightly as she waits to see what he has to say.

Bill opens his mouth then glances around the suddenly quiet room before shutting it again. �We will not.�

�Thought so.� Ali smirks, floating back to me.

I sigh, sending him a thought. �Enough, let the others handle it. You got the ball rolling.�

�Yeah, yeah. Knew he was trying to get out of it.�

�Why am I not surprised?� Lana�s voice comes out frosty as she leans forward. �Did the part that the Spores are a threat to all of us not get through that thick skull of yours?�

�Yes. I also note that there�s more than sufficient numbers of you to deal with it.� Bill shrugs. �I see no reason to risk myself or my people in addition.�

�Except if we fail, we all die,� Amelia adds.

�So you risk everything on a single throw of the dice,� Bill says.

�Die,� Ali mutters so softly only I hear him.

�You have a better suggestion?� Richard says.

�For myself? No. There is nothing to be gained by joining you or staying if you fail. My duty is to my people,� Bill says.

Others begin to argue with him, all to be shut down by a light rap on the table by Vir. �Adventurer Cross,� Vir says.

Bill�s jaw clenches slightly, the muscles flexing as he readies himself for another attack.

�You own land in Lord Roxley�s domain,� Vir says. �You might not know this, but that ownership comes with certain obligations. One of which I will invoke now. You will join us in the attack, or you shall be declared Mujinae. I believe the closest human term is Outcast.�

Bill leans forward. �You can�t do that. This is a free country. There is no draft here.�

�I believe you have, repeatedly, informed the Council that you are not breaking any Galactic Law, that we are under Galactic Law here in the city. As such, Canadian or the City�s very own laws do not apply to you. Was that not what you said?� Vir�s voice grows colder and colder with each word. �Now, do you refuse the call to arms?�

Bill jerks his head as if he�s trying to get rid of a nasty crick in his neck but finally accedes to Vir�s request. Lana�s openly gloating, and even most of the human Council members seem quite happy. Of course, nothing compares to the smirk Amelia shoots Bill, obviously glad to see him finally dealt with. The non-humans ignore the entire interaction with aplomb though, obviously not wanting to get involved. Well, outside of Ali, who is grinning from ear to ear.

I stay silent�as does Bill, who sulks in his seat�as the others plan what we need. Names are thrown out�some familiar, some less so�as additional help for the fight is debated. All the while, I remember the hundreds of Frakin that wait for us.

�We don�t have enough, do we, boy-o?� Ali sends to me as he spots my face.

�No, not yet.� Not yet.

�It is unusual for a spy to request to speak with me directly,� Labashi says as we sit down at my fort, the grounds nicely clear.

One good thing about the System�it certainly keeps its side of the bargain. I paid for clear fields of fire and an upgraded, well-kept yard, and even through the snowfalls and monster wanderings, it�s done that.

�I�m an unusual spy.� I pour him more tea before sitting back.

It�s been a few days since the big meeting, and in the city, everyone is scrambling. Whether it�s hunting to get more Credits, training to get ready, or planning the attack, the city is buzzing. I guess certain doom is a good way to get everyone�s ass into gear.

Labashi sips on his newly filled cup. �This blackberry tea is quite good, as have been your reports thus far.�

�Glad you like it. And the reports. I�m enjoying the Credits too.� I smile at him, doing my best �innocent� look. Not that I even know if he can tell the difference, but you do what you can. �How�d you like to get information on the fighting groups�all the fighting groups�firsthand?�

�And how would you do that?� Labashi says, an eyebrow rising.

�Well, that�s a funny story.� I lean forward and fill him in on the last month or so. I drop all of it on him and end with our planned attack. �So we�re going in. All of us. Except it won�t be enough, I don�t think.�

�I know of this First Fist of yours, and Vir,� Labashi says, finger tapping the edge of the cup. �I believe you might be surprised.�

�Perhaps.� I stare at my hands and shake my head. �But there�s likely going to be more blood lost than I�d like. So I�m here. Asking to hire you.�

�And what do you have to offer, Mr. Lee? Our services are expensive,� Labashi adds.

I nod. �Yes. I figured as much. So let�s talk.�

I lean forward, meeting his gaze. This is a bad deal, a bad negotiation. I have no leverage, no way of making this come out good for me. On the other hand, if I�m dead, it won�t really matter.

Hours later, I watch Labashi walk away. I shut my eyes, leaning back. The negotiation was�

�Horrible. This is a bad, bad idea,� Ali finally speaks up, staring at me.

�Yeah, I know.� I exhale, shaking my head. �But it�s my choice. We need the bodies. Without more help, we�re screwed. And the Dwarves aren�t willing to help. Now come on, there�s someone else we need to speak to.�

Ali grumbles but says nothing as I climb aboard Sabre. I look back at the Fort. Gods, I actually enjoyed my time here�hunting, killing, being alone. No one to care about, no one to worry for. Just me and the Apocalypse.

�Oy! I thought you said we were going, boy-o.�

I snort. Yeah, enough with the maudlin nonsense. There�s work to do.

�Aiden.� I walk in as he finishes class. I�ve been waiting outside for the last ten minutes, practicing my own Affinity.

�John,� Aiden replies as he puts his notes on the table and turns to stare at me.

�Lana tells me you turned down joining us.�

He nods firmly. �Yes. I�m sorry, I know you need everyone who can come. I just� I can�t.�

I take a seat next to him. �Because of what happened last time?�

He nods, fear clear in his eyes. �I� I don�t want to die.�

�Few of us do. I understand. Thank you. For coming out when you did. For teaching me what you can. If� well, if we don�t come back, get the kids out. Head south. There might be something left back there.�

�What do you mean?� Aiden says.

�Dawson�s gone and Carcross won�t last if��

The mage cuts me off. �I mean, if you don�t come back.�

�Oh. This is our final toss,� I answer, lips twisting. �We either win or we die. If we don�t stop the Spores, they�ll keep growing and growing, and eventually, they�ll hit Whitehorse and swarm us. We have to win this. Now.� He clasps his hands together, fingers shaking, as I continue. �So go south. If we don�t come back, get everyone that you can out.�

Aiden nods jerkily, looking at me before looking away, unable to meet my eyes. I give his shoulder a squeeze before I walk off, stopping only when he calls my name.

�How do you do it? I want to� I want to be braver, but I can�t,� he whispers.

�You�re asking the wrong person.� I don�t turn around as I stop in the doorway, a hand on the doorframe. �From my viewpoint, you�re plenty brave.�

He laughs bitterly, and I leave before he can recover and realize I never answered his question. I don�t have an answer for him, at least not the one he�s looking for. How do I tell him that it�s not because I�m brave but because I�m too fucking scared and angry to stop? How do I tell him that every time I stop and think, I see Haines Junction, or that damn village in the middle of nowhere, or Tahar?

I walk outside into the sunlight and shake my head. No, I have no answer for Aiden. His reaction is the sensible one. Mine�well, mine�s certifiable.

�We don�t have enough people,� Jim states again, his fingers tapping the 3-D map of the dungeon and the surrounding areas.

We don�t have a lot of the actual dungeon mapped, and all of what we do have comes from my drones which, frankly, is rather worrying. A major recent change to the area is the battlements and walls now surrounding the dungeon entrance, a hastily constructed series of defenses meant to contain any incursion. It won�t hold against a major push, but it�s sufficient to contain the occasional Frakin that wanders out and keep other monsters away.

�Even if we take my people off the walls, I see at least a half dozen different passages there. My people can�t stand up to these Frakin,� Jim adds.

�Yes,� Vir answers, rubbing his chin. �We might have to hit and pull back, drawing small numbers out to us.�

�Very dangerous work,� Capstan adds, pointing at the entrance chamber and the chamber beneath. �The Frakin could attempt to overwhelm us at any time.�

�What of the virus?� Richard asks.

The group shrugs.

�Might work, might not,� I answer before sighing.

�We sure the Spores aren�t part of the dungeon?� Richard says.

Vir answers that one for me. �Yes. We confirmed that via the Shop. The Spores are an invasive species, not dungeon owned. Of course, they eventually could be, but as of this time, they aren�t. If we wipe the dungeon, we can always sweep it later to confirm.�

Since the big meeting, a smaller group of us have been meeting more regularly, trying to work out a plan that will keep most of us alive. The group consists of Vir and Capstan, who have the most System-related battle planning experience, and Jim, who surprisingly is a former infantry sergeant in the army. Richard, Jason, and I drift into the conversation occasionally, throwing what help we can, but at the end of the day, we�re civilians trying to plan a battle. We�re mostly here so that we know what is going on.

The problem is, we�re outnumbered and time isn�t on our side. The longer we take, the more the Frakin will increase in numbers. While our people might upgrade in Levels in the meantime, the fact stands that it only takes a few Level 50 Frakin to overwhelm a single Level 40 Adventurer. Better weapons, better tactics, and better coordination can help tilt things in our favor, but the numbers still aren�t on our side.

If the Frakin acted like normal monsters, they wouldn�t swarm and cluster. We�d have a chance to fight them in smaller groups, whittling down their numbers in a series of battles. Unfortunately, the Spores are sentient and have shown a willingness to swarm us and lay traps.

�I have a partial solution to the number problem,� I say. �The Hakarta have agreed to let us have three platoons of their men. Level 40 or so each, but they�ll be coming with their full loadout.�

Vir looks at me, startled, then his eyes narrow, �Hakarta. The same ones you fought before?�

�Yes.�

�And how did you come in contact with them that you were able to arrange a contract?� Vir asks, his voice cold.

I just smile at him. His eyes narrow in suspicion until Capstan taps the table to get all our attention.

�Lieutenant, it is done. I assume there is a price involved?� Capstan says.

�Yes. We�ll need to pay them ten thousand Credits per platoon for their involvement, and their share of the loot of course,� I say.

People wince. Still, thirty thousand Credits isn�t that much when you take into account a full platoon of five Hakarta will share it. Of course, I don�t mention the favor I now owe Labashi, the one he can call in at any time. I hedged the favor to ensure that he can�t make me use it against my friends or the City, but otherwise, it�s pretty open-ended. That�s on top of me needing to continue to feed him information of course.

Capstan nods, rubbing his chin. �With the three platoons, we should be able to keep the human hunters on the walls. That will give us enough men, barely, to cover the dungeon itself.�

I stare at the map as Vir and Capstan hash out the details with occasional input from Jim, figuring out the best way to fit the Hakarta in our plans. All this talk and we�ve basically come up with three major strategies, dependent on what we find inside.

The first is simple�the virus reverts the Frakin and the dungeon back to its �normal� state. That means scattered groups without overall coordination. This is our best-case scenario, and if it happens, we can split the teams into smaller groups to clear the dungeon before we finally get to the Boss. It�s also the least likely option, but we do have plans for it.

The second scenario is if there�s no effect, or mild effects, and the Spores continue to act like the way they have before. In that case, the Frakin are likely to group together, attack in waves, and attempt ambushes. In such a scenario, the goal is to establish a beachhead in the first cavern, set up fortifications in it, and weather the attacks. That leaves us a fallback position in the tunnel where a secondary set of fortifications will be made, then the walls. We�ve also mined the entrance and the ground above it so, if necessary, we can cause a landslide that will give us enough time to vacate the dungeon�s vicinity.

We�d decided against trying to bury the dungeon entrance entirely since there�s no way to know if there�s another exit. Or worse, if the Frakin are able to dig themselves out. Of course, if we do fail, Jim�s men have orders to drop the entrance. As much as we�d like to know the layout of the dungeon, the cost of it in the Shop is exorbitant.

The third scenario is probably the most dangerous. If the Spores feel truly endangered, they might pull back, forcing us to come into the dungeon after them. As Jim�s already noted, even after a few caverns, there are multiple passageways and potential entrances. Some, probably most of them, will peter out and dead-end. However, until we can verify that, we�ll have to guard each. That means we�ll have to move in slowly and carefully, checking each area. Worse, if there are multiple passageways that connect, we could be forced to split our force to cover each of those potential passages until we meet up again.

Depending on how deep and where the Spores decide to have their last stand, we could be extremely dispersed if we try to cover all the exits. If not, we run the risk of being flanked. It�s not a great situation and why we�re all hoping it�s either one of the other scenarios. In either case, Xev�s hard at work putting together multiple drones and signal repeaters for us so that we can scout out areas and keep in touch.

We�ve debated rolling in a couple of bombs and setting them off to clear the area before moving in deeper. Jim pointed out that the narrow corridors and their Mana-strengthened nature would ensure that the blast forces were more concentrated, giving us more bang for our buck.

Unfortunately, Vir and Capstan overruled him. For one thing, we have no idea how big the entire complex could be�we could be wasting Credits by purchasing bombs and setting them off without hurting anything. Even if we did manage to catch some Frakin in the explosions, if the dungeon has more than one floor, the blast wouldn�t cross the floors. And of course, we just don�t have the Credits to buy something powerful enough to ensure that all the monsters die. It was why most times, dungeons were still cleared the old-fashioned way�one floor at a time with small parties.

The night before the big day, the Nugget is hopping. I drive by on Sabre and almost go in but decide against it, stopping only long enough to visit the Shop and stock up on more grenades, missiles, and projectiles. I�ve loaded my Altered Space with as much of each as I can unreasonably see myself using already, so buying more is my version of fretting.

In the end, I head home. I might not need much sleep physically or mentally, but there�s a calming emotional release in the emptiness that a good night�s rest can bring. I drive slowly through Riverdale, knowing that icy patches lie hidden underneath the latest dusting of snow. We need a better solution for the roads, like so many other problems, but I push it out of my mind. I have other things to deal with.

At home, I find Lana and Richard seated around the dining room table that�s connected to the open kitchen. For once, Richard is without a female companion. Instead, the two Pearsons are chatting quietly, accompanied by a single husky each. Even then, the large dining room is crowded.

Richard greets me, waving me to a chair. I take it after some maneuvering, seating myself and smacking Bella on the nose not too gently as she tries to lick me. Licky dog.

I greet the pair, looking around the kitchen. �No dinner?�

�It�s nearly ten,� Lana says, shaking her head. �There�re leftovers in the fridge.�

�Huh.� I nod, eying the blocked off stovetop and fridge.

Seeing my predicament, the pair send the dogs out the door, freeing me to cook.

�You guys ready?� I ask.

�As much as we can be,� Richard answers for them both. �I�m just glad that Leonard is certain the infected Frakin won�t be poisonous for the dogs.�

�Oh.� I pause in heating up the stir-fried rice. I never even thought about how we�d be feeding their pets.

�And you, John?� Lana asks.

�This is what I do, babe.� I turn around to flash her a cocky smile and a wink.

The redhead looks startled for a moment before bursting out laughing, Richard joining her.

�Please. Don�t do that ever again,� Richard says, shaking his head. �It really doesn�t suit you.�

I snort, face collapsing as I turn back to my leftovers. They�re still chuckling behind me, and I find myself smiling slightly. As I�m busy and awkwardly placed to carry on the conversation, they end up recounting stories of their shared childhood and their dad�s sense of humor. Really? Putting Lana�s first set of car keys in Jell-O was meant to be funny?

When I�m ready, I walk back to the table with the plates of food and plop myself onto my seat before pushing a pair of plates out to them. I don�t even have to ask if they�ll be joining me�putting food in front of System-enhanced fighters is a guarantee of it being consumed.

As we eat, we talk, all of us avoiding the topic of our upcoming delve. Everything that needs to be said has been said or will be said. In time, Mikito joins us, pointing out that our increasingly loud conversation is keeping her up, before she snags a potato. For a time, we just talk and eat, worries about tomorrow pushed aside. The past is pain, the future uncertainty. The present is all we have, and staring at my friends, it�s enough.

Chapter 20

�I really wish the weather would make up its mind,� Richard grumbles as he stomps through the slush pile of mud and snow as we finally reach the dungeon.

Fun thing about being in the Yukon in mid-November�the temperature doesn�t always stay beneath zero. So all that snow we received in the last few weeks�it�s melting on its own, leaving the ground a mushy, slimy mess.

I duck my head to hide my smile as I walk easily on Sabre�s armored legs, then I realize he can�t see me beneath my helmet anyway. Tromping through the underbrush in the mecha is easy and doesn�t involve getting my feet muddy. Of course, Richard could try riding one of his pets like Lana and Mikito are doing with hers, but Richard seems happier just grumbling.

When we finally reach the dungeon, I marvel at the changes since my last entry. A wall of concrete and earth has been thrown up around the entrance, and a pit faces the entrance. In a snaking path to the dungeon, stone spears stick out, making sure that no monster can get a running start to their jumps. Just outside the entrance, there�s a clear area to allow our dungeon parties to gather. Of course, that ground has been heavily mined. Four watchtowers are set along the wall, mostly to allow the guards to watch for incoming threats from the wilderness. Each watchtower also holds one of the four shield generators and beam canons we�ve borrowed from the city defenses.

The entrance is as well guarded as we can make it. If things go to hell, we�ll need to rely on these defenses to save our asses. I survey the area once more before I dump the drones and signal repeaters out from my Altered Space for everyone else to grab. People stream in in spurts over the next fifteen minutes, picking up their extra gear before grabbing some last-minute rest.

�Lana?� I murmur.

She looks up at me from where she works, stroking and petting her pets. �John.� There�s a hint of wariness in her voice.

�Be careful. Watch the sides and remember, your pets are there to keep you safe.�

For a moment, her lips tighten before she smiles and kisses my cheek. �Yes, Dad.�

I sigh, really wishing she didn�t have to come. Really, I wish none of us was here, but that�s the nature of our lives now. As Richard walks up, I nod to him and murmur, �Watch out for her, will you?�

�Of course.� He shoots me a disdainful look and I accept it. She is, after all, his sister. �You�re the one up front and center.�

I nod then turn away, looking over the gathered group one last time. Arrayed before me are warriors and mages, fighters and healers, my allies and enemies, because I asked them to be here, because I said it was necessary.

To one side, Aiden leans against a nearby tree as he finishes throwing up. Mikito rubs the older man�s back in an attempt to comfort him. Jim is walking among his people, talking softly and bolstering spirits. The Yerick squat, playing a game of stones that seems to consume their attention, but occasionally they glance at the dungeon entrance. There�s a hush among the group, a stillness that makes people speak softly, as if speaking loudly would break the spell of peace and signal the start of what we all fear.

I spot Jason standing next to Rachel, their hands clasped. He sees me and mouths, �Not a game.�

I nod. No, this isn�t a game, and I wonder how many of these people will be dead before the day is over. As I think that, I note the new blips that have appeared on my minimap.

�Everyone, play nice. We�ve got incoming friendlies. Friendlies,� I repeat, hitting the external mic to ensure that everyone hears me. Don�t want anyone shooting the Hakarta as they make their way to us.

Twenty-five large infantry soldiers walk through the trees. They move in formation without thought, spread out in a way that screams organization even to me. Six and a half feet tall at the shortest, some going up to seven, and all broad across the shoulders. Their mottled green-and-brown camouflaged armor blends in with the surroundings as the group stomps forward, beam rifles and plasma grenades strapped to their bodies.

�John.� A hand touches armor and strikingly intelligent eyes meet my gaze. �Sorry we�re late. We had a small delay coming in.�

I step forward, offering my hand to Labashi. �Not at all. Surprised you�re here, and with so many others.� Unspoken is the point that I can�t afford him or the additions.

�Orcs? The Hakarta are orcs?� Jason splutters, staring at the group, and Rachel squeezes his hand to shut him up. He quiets down, though not without adding, �At least they�re Uruk-hai.�

�My employer decided he was not interested in having an infected dungeon in his territory,� Labashi says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. �We are here at his request.�

I consider that then shake my head. Well, seems like Labashi has figured out a way to get paid twice for this job. Vir stiffens slightly at the mention of Labashi�s employer but says nothing. I really do wish someone would fill me in on the subtext here at some point.

Capstan walks forward, offering Labashi his hand. As Labashi grips Capstan�s arm, I see Capstan�s forearm muscles bunch before his eyes tighten, Labashi never losing that smile of his.

�First Fist, I am Labashi Ruka, Major of the Sixty-Third Division. I understand you are in command here?�

Hand released, Capstan surreptitiously flexes his fingers as he answers. �Yes, I am. Have you read the briefing notes? Do you have any last-minute recommendations?�

Labashi smiles slightly, nodding. �I might have a few.�

I sigh as Vir moves forward to join the duo. Leaving the group to it, I climb the staircase to the top of the wall, surprised to find a pair of Hakarta up there already. They�re releasing a series of small spider-like drones, sending them into the entrance and the dungeon without a word.

Well, this might go better than I thought.

Thankfully, the discussion takes less than an hour. Whether it�s the fact that Labashi knows what he�s doing or that the plans are already in place, it doesn�t take long for the call to gather to come. I�ve sent out my own drones already, though the amount of data I�m getting pales in comparison to the constant data stream the Hakarta have. Tim�s speaking softly to one of the Hakarta, working to get their equipment to sync up with our signal boosters.

There�s a pair of Frakin in the main passageways and only scattered numbers farther in. Not enough to consider a threat and it�s only on closer inspection that we realize why�these are dungeon-born Frakin that aren�t infected yet. We�ve yet to see an infected Frakin, which is a bit worrying.

Everyone�s a bit tense from the additional delay, but once we get moving, the tension ratchets up even further. A couple of Hakarta and Yerick, Bill�s raven-haired friend, and Stupid from the bar play scouts, ghosting in ahead of us to eyeball for trouble that the drones might have missed. After all that talk of not being high enough level, Jim finally relented and is bringing in a pair of his hunting groups.

The rest of us move as a group at first, then parties split up, heading down each of the passageways. Signal boosters are added, providing us better and better coverage, but even the boosters can only do so much. At a certain point, we�re going to lose contact. As the parties leave, I hear more than one happy comment that the dungeon is both dry and warm. While higher Constitutions might mean we can handle lower temperatures better, it�s still not comfortable. At least, not for anyone who isn�t fully covered in high-grade, temperature-controlling armor.

Bill, Vir, Labashi, Capstan and me are the heavy hitters and have to hang back, ready to hammer any resistance into the ground. That leaves Nelia and Aron under-powered, so Lana and Aiden join them while Richard and Mikito get Amelia, Rachel, and Jason. Gadsby couldn�t come. Carcross needed at least one of their powerhouses in town and he drew the short straw.

In the end, the heavy hitters end up strolling along behind everyone else, watching the data and feeds while the others do all the work. We never hit more than a few Frakin at a time and those that we do fight aren�t infected.

The longer this takes, the more antsy I get, and I eventually find myself chewing through chocolate bar after chocolate bar to find something to do. Labashi steals a few, though he, like the others, is focused on coordinating the search parties. Even Bill looks bored, though he mostly suffers in silence. I�m pretty sure he�s just pissed that Vir dispatched a pair of guards to ensure he made it today.

Four and a half hours later, we�re four main caverns in and finally taking a break. We�ve got three quarters of the groups deployed covering side passages, waiting for the Scouts to clear the passageways before they move on. While we rest, drones scurry around on their automated tasks, bringing more and more details about the dungeon back to us when they get back into sensor range.

�It seems the Spores have pulled back,� Capstan says.

He doesn�t look happy, and I completely agree. We�re stretched thin already, covering the passages we�ve found, and it�s been slow going since we try to keep sufficient coverage on each split group that they�re able to pull back if they encounter resistance. The fact that they all have drones and scouts ahead of them helps. Still, our experience with the Frakin means we can�t rely on that entirely.

We�re pretty sure by now that there are at least three major passages leading farther in. The Frakin that holed up off the first branch are gone entirely, and that cavern eventually joins up with the main branch in main cavern number three. Now we�re following one passage from cavern two and another from this cavern, not including the third that we�ve designated the main route. Each of these main passageways is so big, it�d take at least two groups to cover fully. Thus far, none of these passageways have shown to meet up, so we�re stuck waiting for the drones to give us an idea of what it is we�re looking for, while hoping they aren�t completely destroyed.

�Yes,� Labashi says. �Fall back to Cavern Two?�

�Yes,� Capstan answers.

I sigh. Pushing ahead to this cavern was always a risk, since we haven�t explored all the corridors fully, but it was a risk we were willing to take to see if we could find the Frakin faster. However, now that we�ve pretty much confirmed that we�ve got multiple main passageways, pushing ahead means leaving more area to guard. It�s better to back off and finish checking the first branch fully before we do anything else.

Once we�ve dropped a few drones, we pull back and get back to waiting. For all the dreams of a slam-bang, balls-to-the-walls fight, all that has happened is a tense, slow, grinding wait.

Bored. I find myself next to Bill as we wait for something, anything to happen. I look the man over before I finally decide to say something. �You�re a bit of a dick, aren�t you?�

�Are you trying to start a fight?� Bill says, glaring at me.

Capstan shoots me a glare too, and I raise my hand in surrender.

�Sorry. Let�s try that again. You�re not much of a team player, are you?�

�I�m a very good team player. I�m just more selective about my team than some people,� Bill states and turns to face me.

I grunt at his reply. Fine. Fine. So� �Enforcer, eh? Interesting Class.�

�How�?� Bill�s lips thin and I smile at him. He shrugs, answering the unasked question. �I was a bouncer before all this. I guess the System thought this was appropriate.�

�Yeah�� I reply, not really meaning anything by it. I cudgel my brain for something else to say to fill the time, but I find nothing.

Bill snorts, shaking his head, and turns from me. I sigh. Fine. I guess we really don�t have much to say to one another.

�Should we be thinking about calling it a day?� I wonder, staring at the glowing icons that make up our people in my map.

It�s been another four hours and we�re once again spread out across a wide distance. The Hakarta have reported losing over a quarter of their drones so far. We occasionally find the drones on the ground, shorted out from Mana overload or destroyed by the Frakin or one of the few other, smaller monsters that have begun to spawn in the absence of the Spore-dominated ecosystem.

After finding an extremely narrow, single-person corridor at the end of the second passageway in the first cavern, the First Fist decided to post a party and have us move forward with the search. Now, the majority of us are sitting in the fourth cavern with search parties headed down both passageways in an attempt to locate the Frakin. Hours of being on edge, of waiting for the other shoe to drop has made almost everyone tired. Only Capstan, Vir, Labashi, and I seem to be functioning at full capacity, probably due to our high mental resistances and Willpower. Everyone else is moving just a little slower.

As Capstan opens his mouth to answer me, a cackle comes through our communicators. �Frakin! We have Frakin!�

We don�t need to ask who it is. Though of course Labashi does with a light growl. Since one party is filled with Yerick and humans and the other the professional Hakarta, the unprofessional report of trouble can only come from the humans.

I want to go, I want to fight, but Capstan shakes his head as he sees me edge toward the passageway. He stands there, arms crossed, waiting for more information to come in.

No surprise that more details come from his people. �Fifty Frakin hidden in a side cavern that the drones missed. We have them contained, First Fist. No aid required.�

I find myself relaxing. Bill smirks, returning to the game of solitaire he�s been playing for hours. Capstan asks for a little more information, but with things in hand, I find my mind drifting. I�m not entirely sure what the Spores� game plan is, but the fact that it�s taken us nearly a whole day to make any form of substantial contact makes me lean toward scenario three. Not good, not good at all.

The battle doesn�t take that long, probably only five minutes before it�s all over. When the report comes in, we confirm it�s infected Frakin, but nothing of unusual size. They do note that these aren�t the plasma-wielding Frakin I fought before�these released caustic clouds of acid that ate through and damaged armor. Luckily, the mages were able to keep the gas mostly contained so it was only the melee fighters who suffered.

The side cavern dealt with, the group continues to search for trouble, obviously invigorated by the encounter. I wish I could say the same for us, stuck waiting as we are.

Capstan stands there, looking at the ceiling and presumably his system information. Coming to a decision, Capstan lowers that horned head of his and speaks into our communicators. �Pull back. Leave sensors. We�re stopping for the night.�

There�s a rustle from those around us, but the professionals take action immediately. Even the humans don�t actually object to packing it in. While we might not have been doing this for as long as the others, we�ve learnt a few lessons in the apocalypse.

Later that evening, I�m sitting next to Richard and Mikito, resting against the comfortable bulk of a puppy as I eat our rehydrated dinners. Not the tastiest form of sustenance, but I�ll take it over the green goo that the Hakarta are busy squeezing out of their tubes. I guess ready meals the Galaxy over just aren�t particularly tasty. Or I could be wrong and the green goo is a cultural delicacy. Certainly the Hakarta are taking to their meals with gusto. The Yerick in their own groups have set up small frying pans and are busy lightly frying up various vegetables, some recognizable and others significantly less so. Coming from a Chinese family, I�ve eaten a wider variety of foodstuff than most, but even I draw the line at lurid, neon-purple seaweed-like vegetables.

�Not what I was expecting,� Richard says, gesturing around the group.

We�ve got Mana lights set up all around us, illuminating the bare cavern while shield generators and sensors cover all our entrances and the areas we�ve cleared. No reason to let the monsters sneak in on us while we�re resting.

�What? Camping in the middle of a dungeon and waiting for a swarm of monsters to fall on you not to your liking?� Jason says sarcastically, Rachel snuggled between his legs.

Rachel playfully smacks his arm, and I smile slightly at the two teenagers, glad they�ve found something good among all this.

�Don�t forget eating with orcs and Minotaurs,� Aiden adds dryly.

Mikito smiles slightly at the banter, though she stays silent, working through a series of bento boxes of food. She gets more than a few longing stares at her packed dinners. For a moment, I wonder if it�s a good thing that she�s spending time doing more mundane things rather than constantly training or hunting monsters.

Once again, I wish I had a real psychotherapist on hand. It�d be nice to have someone trained to ask about how my friends are handling the stresses of the Apocalypse, whether Mikito�s getting better or just about to jump off the cliff. We could use the Shop, but the problem with System-purchased information�it was information, not actual skill. For that matter, while a few skills are purchasable, they�re all generic. I�m not entirely sure training to deal with Hakarta or an AI or whatever Xev�s race is will translate to human psychology. Then again, I might be overthinking things. Trauma is trauma, right? Certainly the psychotherapy that Richard was taking worked. Is taking?

Coming back from watch, Lana flops down next to me, stretching out her long legs and prodding at the armored carapace of Sabre. �How can you stand sitting in that?�

�Surprisingly comfortable actually. I�ve slept in it before when I�ve been in the wild. Makes it hard for monsters to chomp on you.�

She shakes her head. �Give.� Lana holds out her hand, and I frown. �Chocolates.�

�You know, you could buy your own,� I grumble, handing her some.

Floating above me, Ali makes a whipping motion with his hand while I roll my eyes at him. A moment later, I�m dispensing chocolate all around to expectant hands. Lucky for me, I buy a ton. Labashi, noting what I�m doing, wanders over and holds out his giant green hand.

�You too?� I ask.

�Consider it part payment.� Labashi grins.

I sigh, pulling out some of the Belgian chocolates he likes and passing it over. He gestures to a spot next to me and I nod, watching as the others scramble away a bit. Well, everyone but Jason, who is staring openly at the Hakarta.

�You did well out there,� Labashi says, nodding to my group. A few people look startled then happy at his compliment. �It is impressive, considering how long the System has been in effect.�

I nod slightly, but it�s Richard who speaks. �So I heard you mention your employer. Who is he?�

�You do not expect me to actually answer that, do you?� Labashi says.

Richard looks disappointed.

�Her Grace Wuli Kangana, Duchess of the Pourquoi States,� Vir says, having come up to join the group. He eyes everyone eating the chocolates but makes no request for any. �She also currently owns and controls both the Village of Fairbanks and the Town of Anchorage.�

Seeing my brow furrow, Lana leans over and whispers, �Whitehorse is still a Village in the System�s eyes.�

I nod dumbly while Ali concentrates, staring into the distance. In a few seconds, I see a notification that I�ve got System windows waiting for me. At a guess, details about the duchess. I wonder how bad the translations are of her titles�something else to dig into at some point.

�Really?� Aiden frowns, rubbing his nose. �Are infected dungeons that dangerous?�

�Yes.� Labashi nods. �A normal Spore infection is limited, the numbers forced to slowly grow. A dungeon gives the Spores a chance to continuously reproduce and grow, and on a dungeon world, it would be a simple matter to infect even more dungeons. It is much easier to deal with earlier than later.�

Vir nods, letting his body relax as he stands there watching the group. I hear Jason ask another question about the Hakarta, which I find myself ignoring. I�ve always wondered why the Hakarta were checking us out, and while this sheds some light, it�s not a lot.

As much as the explanation by Labashi makes some sense, I still don�t believe that an infected dungeon could spread that fast to make it a threat to Fairbanks any time soon. Certainly not before the System stabilizes and Adventurers start pouring in. If I�m right, it means that she�s got plans much closer to the dungeon. Vir meets my unfocused gaze and nods once, as if confirming my guesses. Great, we just settled City politics and now we�ve got Galactic politics to deal with. Somehow, I don�t think shouting at them and threatening them with body odor will work as well.

Capstan walks up, grumbling at the group and sending us to bed down before the start of our shifts. The Yerick is right�we best get some rest. As it stands, we�ll probably have a pretty nasty fight soon.

Chapter 21

�Contact!�

The word comes over the communicators, jerking us straight. Finally. We�ve spread out across three different openings, and down a side route, they�ve finally come into contact again.

�They haven�t seen the drone,� Aron says, watching the feed.

Ali has slaved a status screen to the drone, so I watch the hundreds of the Frakin packed into the cavern. Strangely, they aren�t all staying still like before. Instead, some are skittering around in aimless circles. Occasionally a Frakin nears the entrance before it jerks to a stop and returns to its aimless movements.

�Going deeper,� Aron says as he controls the drone.

Behind, barely a few hundred meters back, the teams that have been tasked to clear this passageway have stopped, waiting further orders.

Capstan stares at the information coming in before he turns to Labashi. �Send two of your parties to reinforce. We will hold here.�

Labashi nods, barking out orders. His men split off and trot toward the opening at speed. I grit my teeth, frustrated at being forced to wait again.

�Incoming, boy-o,� Ali says, flashing my screen for me, and I frown.

Everyone hears and turns, scanning their own screens as a lone Frakin totters down the main passageway toward us. It walks right past the drone without seeing, its movements erratic.

�Kill it?� I ask, gesturing down the way. Easy pickings.

�This feels wrong,� Labashi says, eyes narrowed. �It�s infected.�

�Yeah��

�It�s a scout,� Labashi clarifies for those of us who aren�t following him.

Capstan nods and sends a Yerick to deal with the scout far from our position.

�More contacts,� Ali reports, eyes narrowing as he sifts through the scattered data. We�ve got sensors spaced out even farther than the drones, but they aren�t giving particularly good data, not with the amount of Mana interference we�re getting this deep into the dungeon. �A lot more.�

�Fall in,� Capstan barks.

I walk forward to squat behind my assigned wall. Minor changes to the cavern have given us a raised stone wall that should slow down the Frakin. For a quarter second maybe. On the other hand, a quarter second at the speeds we fight can be a long time.

Bill joins me on my right, and I glance over. I note he�s a left-hander, so I shuffle to the left a bit more to give us more space. Not that he�s using a melee weapon yet, instead hefting a pair of modified futuristic beam pistols.

Ali floats over to my left and just above head, barely within my line of sight as he continues to stare at the screens. �Drone�s broken into the second cavern. More Frakin.� He frowns. �Feed�s getting pretty jumpy, I don�t think we�ll get a proper count there��

I nod, hefting my beam rifle as I watch the incoming dots on my minimap. Now that they�re closer, the drone is picking them up on visual too, their lines staggered and jerky. The Frakin move forward, then occasionally, one or another Frakin will stop or turn around. They aren�t the imposing wall of flesh that we encountered the last time.

�Looks like your virus is working,� Bill says, watching the feed as well.

I nod and shoot a glance at the man, wondering how much I can trust him. There�s no real way to fake Levels, so he�s obviously got some skills. Doesn�t mean he won�t break if things get too hectic.

�They�re moving,� Capstan growls, his eyes locked on the screens.

I glance back. Vir and Labashi are standing next to the command group, heads turning slightly as they watch the feeds before they nod. A quick glance is all I need to confirm it�the Frakin on the other feeds are moving, heading straight for Lana and Richard. I grit my teeth, knowing Mikito has their back. All I can do is trust�

�You might want to focus here,� Bill chides me, opening fire now that the Frakin are within range. His shots go into the darkness, but I hear flesh sizzling as beam weaponry punches through Frakin bodies. Those pistols are impressive.

My turn. I open fire, a second slower than everyone else on the front line, at the targets highlighted in my vision. A veritable rainbow of beam weaponry lights up the cavern, mixed with fast-moving projectiles that smash into the monsters before us, turning the monsters into so much slurry. We probably waste half our shots on already dead creatures.

�Who told you to shoot?� snaps Vir, striding up and shaking his head. �Wait until the order is given.�

Shooting stops, more than a few of us looking sheepish. Vir just watches as the Frakin close the distance. When they�re a hundred meters from us, he finally gives the order to resume shooting, staggering our fire so we don�t waste our ammunition.

As I thought, the pistols Bill uses are special, upgraded up the wazoo by the Shop and then possibly augmented by Skills. Each of his shots does a significant chunk of damage, burning through Frakin defenses with ease. The rest of us don�t have such spectacular results, but the sheer volume of fire and the lack of cohesion in their charge is enough to make this a cakewalk.

At least until we start running out of ammunition. I see the flickering numbers as my Mana battery runs down, my remaining shots dropping at a precipitous rate. Bill slows down his shooting too, and I see others along the line slap in new batteries. The gap in fire is small, the slowdown even smaller, but suddenly the Frakin aren�t being held but are inching forward. Second by second, the line creeps forward, each new corpse a few feet closer to us.

�Hold.�

The ending is ragged, a few last shots sent out after the command is given, but we eventually all stop shooting. The Frakin don�t react much to the sudden cessation of fire, not until a few seconds have passed, then they�re suddenly sprinting to us. I see a few hasty shots as hunters react to the danger, but I hold my fire, knowing what comes next.

�Ice spells,� Vir commands.

Elemental spells fly over our heads, targeting the charging Frakin. Blizzard winds howl, dropping the temperature and coating monsters in snow and ice. Bolts of absolute zero impact carapaces, turning them into popsicles that break apart under their own momentum. Small motes of white dust float forward, landing on monsters and freezing them. Spears of ice pin Frakin to the ground or tear off limbs as they fly by us. All those spells and more rain down on the creatures at Vir�s command.

�Fire,� Vir commands, and the mages switch.

Previously frozen creatures are heated up as walls of flame erupt from the ground. Pellets of plasma fall from the cavern ceiling to smash into the monsters. Traditional fireballs are thrown, exploding in expanding spheres of superheated air. Whips of fire burst forth from the ground, catching Frakin and tearing through frozen shells. The chittering screams from the Frakin are drowned out in the roar of flames.

�This is easy.� Bill smirks, and I almost hit him.

�These are the basic Frakin, idiot,� Ali says. �Plasma Frakin coming in next��

�Hold. Front line, get ready for incoming fire,� Vir says.

I hear Vir step back. A quick glance shows that the mages are hunkered down beneath their own stone wall with additional coverage from portable shield generators.

Plasma Frakin push past normal Frakin, who refuse to enter the superheated passageway, closing on our line again. They totter over burning corpses, the bladed tips of their feet striking the ground as they rush forward.

Behind me, Vir finally gives the command. �Evens fire!�

The Plasma Frakin are dangerous, but they�ve got a shorter range than we do. We blow them up in the passageway, attempting to pile the bodies up to create an impromptu barrier from their corpses. The occasional extra fast or extra tough Frakin gets a bolt of plasma out before it�s cut down, but a single bolt is nothing to the front-liners.

I even have time to glance at the drone feed from the other battle, enough time to tell that they�re doing as well as we are. Things are going too easy. Way too easy.

�Ali��

�I�m looking, boy-o, I�m looking,� Ali replies, flicking his hands across his screens.

A quick glance tells me he�s not the only one looking for the catch.

The Frakin stagger in at longer intervals, individual Frakin rather than the unorganized swarm. Vir designates shooters while the rest of us rest, checking over our ammunition. The short fight burnt through half of my Mana batteries, and I wonder how everyone else is doing. On the other hand, we probably stacked up over a hundred Frakin right.

It�s not as if the Spores have shown extremely diverse tactics so far. Perhaps, just perhaps, all they�re doing is trying to win a battle of attrition. For a moment, I let myself hope.

A snarl from Capstan gets my attention.

�They�re behind us,� Ali says, and I jerk my head up. He twitches a finger and I see the drone feed from behind us, showing the rushing monsters.

�How�?� Bill says. �We checked everything. There�s no way they�re back there.�

�No idea,� Ali replies, shaking his head.

Capstan is already calling out orders, splitting the teams to reinforce the back while the rest of us stay.

�They really like their pincer attacks,� I grumble, and Ali nods.

In a moment, we don�t have time to talk as the Frakin launch themselves at our defenses again. I find myself smiling grimly as I open fire. Tracking monsters and killing them has become so routine, I barely need to think about it. If the Spores think a simple pincer attack is enough to finish us, they�re wrong.

The smell of ionized air, burnt flesh, and the excretions of the Frakin as they die clogs the air, and I mentally command the helmet to filter it all out. There�s little I can do for the clatter of pincers on the ground and the screams of the Frakin as they die. We pile them up so high that the Frakin have to take time to pull down and shift bodies before they can come at us again.

Vir switches the attacks around more often, using the mages to hit the Frakin so we can husband our ammunition. Unlike many of the other front-line fighters, I�m carrying fewer Mana batteries, so I find myself switching over to throwing magic rather than shooting. I get a few raised eyebrows, but I�ve got the Mana to do so and I make sure not to let it drop below 80%. This is a marathon, not a sprint, especially with the numbers we�ve seen so far.

We hammer away at the Frakin. Plasma and normal Frakin are the majority, with the occasional acid-spitter, of the variations so far. It�s a constant barrage of damage and spells, broken up only by Vir calling a rotation or when the bodies pile up so high that the Frakin have to pull them apart to continue their attack. In time, the drone feeding us information on our attackers stops sending us information, leaving us in the dark once again.

As the Frakin pull aside the next wall of bodies, I catch a glimpse of something new, a virulent purple, and I narrow my eyes, trying to spot it again. I only get a second before a new attack comes�blobs of barely-held-together purple sacs thrown from behind the wall of corpses. As they impact, the sacs split open. A greenish-purple liquid spills onto the ground and releases vapors. All around me, the humans begin choking and covering their faces. Bill slaps a hand outward, calling forth a gas mask, as do other humans. The fully armored Hakarta are safe in their suits and continue to fire. The Yerick just growl softly, fighting through the fumes without slacking off.

Even as gas masks protect against the primary effects, the secondary effects kick in, attacking any exposed body parts. The distraction is enough to make even the Yerick pause as they get proper armor on. The drop in fire means the Frakin surge ahead. I snarl, opening fire on full-auto with Sabre�s projectile rifle, taking up the slack. Black lightning and fireballs surge past my head as mages behind me lend a hand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a hunter pop up, helmet down and gloves on, to receive a sac straight in the face. It splits on top of him, covering his entire body. I see the liquid eat away at his armor even as Vir grabs his body and tosses him into the backlines.

The combined fire by the mages and the humans quickly establishes a new deadlock. Unfortunately, the Spores aren�t done with their surprises. Shouldering aside a pair of poisonous Frakin, a silver-steel creature charges forward. Beams of light bounce off its body, doing little damage and adding to the confusion of battle. Even as I target it, another of the oversized bugs appears, then another. Explosive projectiles do damage, splitting open the armored hide, but a single gun isn�t enough. Even as the humans recover, the creatures bear down on us.

Almost, I trigger my missiles. Almost. Before I can, rock spears rise up, impaling monsters and hindering their approach. It buys us a few moments, enough time for the mages to send a breeze in to clear out some of the fumes and for the rest of the humans to get their gear on. Even the Yerick finally take the time to fully gear up, slapping on a small triangular patch that sets up a low-level repelling field. I make a mental note to look into that in the future as I lob a fireball into the cavern. Vir moves from group to group, shifting our fields of fire so that each section has a mix of firepower, beams, and projectiles smashing into whatever monster decides to show its face.

As the rock spears get broken down by the Behemoth Frakin, more are thrown up by the mages behind us. A few quick additions of fast-set glue grenades turns the new bodies into a new obstacle the Frakin have to fight through, which gives us time to rest and recover.

Our front covered, I glance at my map and screens to see how things are going in the other locations and flinch. I forcibly make myself hold still even as I watch the red dots overwhelm the friendly blues in the corridor. Not just any blues�those dots contain Lana, Richard, and Mikito. Behind us, Aron and Labashi�s timely intervention has driven back the monsters long enough at least for the backline to recover.

�Trust in them, John,� Ali says.

I nod dumbly. Even if I took off right this second, I�d be minutes away from the group, long minutes when the Frakin could finish them. I just have to trust that my friends can handle themselves. I watch the minimap and the sudden disappearance of a large number of red dots, then the reformation of the blue line farther back.

�They�re retreating,� I mutter, staring at the map.

Ali offers a nod of confirmation. The blue dots don�t stop backing off even when the line reforms, the red dots surging forward constantly as my teammates lay down withering fire. I glance backward as Vir calls for the mages to take a break and give their Mana a rest. I have a moment to contemplate the sight of Capstan in huddled conversation with Labashi before I have to start shooting again. I�ve spent enough time with the Yerick by now to be able to tell that he�s worried.

The introduction of the two new types of Frakin is forcing us to drain our ammo, stamina, and Mana at an even greater rate. Even with potions to increase the last two, strained and worried looks have begun to creep onto the human faces. The Hakarta are impossible to read under their masks, but even the Yerick occasionally seem nervous. We�ve been fighting nonstop for hours, and the monsters just keep coming.

Five, ten minutes and the Frakin shift tactics again. Instead of sending a single type of monster at us, the Spores mix it up, sending groups. This makes no difference really, as we concentrate on our firing lines, focusing on killing the ones in our fields of fire rather than what they are. A part of me is thankful for the experienced fighters here; otherwise, we might just have fallen for the change.

Equilibrium is achieved again, at least on the front lines. I�ve switched back to my rifle when I can, letting Sabre reload the projectile rifle during much-needed breaks and pulling additional ammunition from my Altered Space for Sabre. When I can, I flick my gaze back and forth between the front lines, my companions, and the map.

Equilibrium on the front lines, but not in our fast-draining Mana and ammunition.

The first cry comes from one of the Yerick, a snarling, �I�m out.�

A moment later, his cry is echoed by a human. Then another, as guns fall silent. Vir snaps an order and the mages with earth spells throw up a temporary blockade, buying us more time at the cost of their Mana. We use it to reconfigure the front lines, staggering between melee and ranged fighters and the mages.

I can see the rearguard doing the same thing while my friends continue to retreat toward us at a glacially slow pace. They�re still too far away to talk to them directly or view them via our drones.

�Ali, how are we doing?� I ask.

�Not good. Drones are mostly drained, but the few we�ve got around here aren�t exactly seeing an end to these groups,� he announces just before Capstan calls me over.

I follow and find Bill�s raven-haired shadowy friend and Vir there too.

�They�re pushing us too hard. Take a few minutes, then we�re going with Plan F,� Capstan announces.

I grimace. Plan F for Final Run. It�s a Hail-Mary plan, one that we cooked up for use when and if the Spores and Frakin pushed us too hard. The three of us each have our own ways of getting through the hordes ahead. The plan is simple�while the others hold the monsters back, we�ll rush in as far as we can, hoping to find and kill the Boss.

�That bad?�

�Yes. We�re down to thirty percent of our reserves,� Labashi clarifies, and I grimace.

I knew things were getting bad, but I hadn�t realized it was that bad. That�s the strange part of this fight. As hard as we�re being pushed, no one has died on our lines so far and no one has stayed injured for long. Our unnatural healing and the Spells keep us in top fighting form�but that only lasts so long as we have enough ammo and Mana. Once we�re out, the end comes soon after.

�We�re uploading the latest scans from the drones to you now,� Capstan adds. �May the stars guide your way.�

Ali frowns, staring at the new information. He tilts his head as I walk to the side and pop open my helmet to scarf down some food. �I�m heading out first. I can�t get too far ahead of you, but if I push the edges, I might be able to lead you to the Boss.�

�Good idea,� I reply, chewing rapidly.

Ali floats a bit away then stops, shifting on his feet a bit before he finally speaks. �Take care, boy-o.�

Ali floats away before I can reply. I shake my head slightly, smiling grimly before glancing at the other two. They�re getting ready�stretching in the lady�s case and downing potion after potion in Vir�s. I flicker a smile at that, his actions reminding me to take the potions I�ve reserved. These are the best regeneration boosters that Sally supplied.

�Ready?� Capstan rumbles.

We offer him a nod, standing up and facing the corridor. Last chance, last run. Damn�

�Plan F. Cover fire on three, two, one. Now!� roars Capstan. He raises his own axe-cannon, letting loose the blast he was charging while he was speaking.

His fire is joined by the mages�, who have been holding back, vortex of destructive firepower ripping through the monsters that face us. The moment the fire slackens, the three of us are sprinting forward.

Covering fire from the sides flashes past us as guided weaponry and spells slam into still-living Frakin within the corridor, giving us a short, short few hundred meters of clear space. As we reach the first curve in the tunnel, we can see the Frakin boiling out of the corner. Vir�s ahead of us all and he flashes forward, exploding into a white mist that floats through the group. His progress slows down significantly in that form, but they can�t touch him.

Behind him, I jump and kick off a Frakin, my powered armor smashing the monster into the ground before I throw myself into a roll as I crash into the swarm. Even as I smash and bounce, I�m triggering the QSM and recovering on ultra-dimensional ground. A moment later, I watch as Bill�s Assassin/Rogue friend turns into a literal shadow and disappear into the darkness.

On my minimap, I see Ali dashing ahead as fast as he can. As he spots new and interesting monsters and my map gets updated before they disappear again as he leaves their presence. Still, it�s enough to let me know how much trouble we really are in�the swarm just doesn�t seem to ever end.

I keep sprinting, my companions lost as we each make our way through the swarm. Powerful as these Skills or technological toys are, they all have their own timers. The moment they run out, if we�re still in the swarm, we�ll shrivel up like a plastic bag in flames. Our only hope is speed.

I thunder down the passageways, running through shadowy Frakin until I see something that makes me pause. I don�t think, I just hammer the switch and flip back into reality, making sure I don�t pop into anything too dense when I shift back. I�m already programming the drone, sending it winging back as I land and spin, using the built-up momentum to open up the Frakin I spotted from abdomen to leg. It�s a monster of a creature, three-quarters the size of the entire passageway itself, and its armor is so tough that without the added levels of my Soulbound sword, I probably couldn�t even scratch it. The Frakin are slow to react, their senses scrambled by the illness, so I have a few moments to lay into the creature in peace. A few moments to tear a chunk into the creature�s body and a few moments more to pull a grenade to plant in its body. The moment my hand is inside it and I�ve let go of the grenade, I trigger the QSM.

I run through the creature, three seconds barely enough time to get away before the explosion contained in the monster ripples outward. It buys the drone and my friends a few moments, since the Frakin will have to move the corpse. A few moments to get ready for the other three Titanic Frakin behind it. I don�t have time to keep up this fight�in fact, draining the QSM to pop in and out like that might have been a bad idea.

Ahead, the tunnel splits and I take the right turn. It�s the direction that Ali went. Even as I run, I unleash a lightning bolt, the energy from the Spell scarring the walls. I can only hope that it�s a good enough indication for Vir and Shadow-girl to avoid this tunnel.

Four minutes into QSM with barely thirty seconds left and I finally pass the last of the Frakin. I dash past them all and the cavern they stream from, then I slide to a stop behind cover. Marginally hidden as I am, I kill the system, shifting over into my own dimension. I breathe raggedly, pulling in pure oxygen from Sabre�s tanks as I recover, hoping that I�m hidden enough. I have to be�I don�t have any other choice. Tucked in the corner as I am, the only sense I can rely on is my hearing. I find myself straining to hear something, anything that might tell me if I made it.

The drip of water, the skittering of insects and spiders, and the far-off tromp of Frakin are all that I sense. No sign of pursuit, no sign of my friends. I slowly exhale, pushing away from my hiding spot, and head deeper, following the trail Ali blazed. I can only hope that the others are doing their job and searching for the Boss too.

�Boy-o, take the right. Dead end here.�

I nod to Ali�s instructions though he can�t see me, doing as he says when I reach the split. I can see Ali flying back from the cavern that dead-ended on him, eager to catch up and take back his scouting duties. I can�t wait for him, knowing that my friends are fighting with everything they�ve got behind me. I can�t hear them or see them�even the updates to my map have stopped�but I know, I know, we�re running out of time.

Time� I�m constantly fighting against it. I pick up the pace, dodging the occasional Frakin I spot curled up in a corner or wandering around, too sick to be controlled by the Spores. I�m moving so fast that I barely notice the immobile Frakin that comes alive the moment I bound over it.

Scouts. Or guards. Whatever the case, they know I�m here. On the other hand, guards probably mean I�m on the right track. I keep an eye out for more as I run, dodging from side to side as the Frakin behind me spits out bolts of destructive light. I turn the corner, finding myself hoping to run into more trouble. Trouble would be good.

My perverse desires rewarded in a few minutes with another sighting�a trio of Frakin that lie in wait. Their reactions are staggered, not coordinated, which is all that allows me to dodge through the barrage that opens up. The trick to actually dodging faster-than-sound attacks isn�t to dodge the attacks themselves but to forecast and dodge around where they will fire. Bodies rise, mouths open, and glinting teeth reflect the building charge. I just make sure I�m never where they�re pointing. It�s a calculation I could never have made as a non-System-registered human�but with my upgraded abilities, it seems trivial. At least against three of these monsters.

I draw and send out a Blade Slash, the brilliant line of force slashing open the Frakin as I near them. I take a few moments to finish them off, figuring that I�d better deal with stragglers now rather than later. As it stands, I have a feeling I�m close.

�Ali, can you find the others?�

�Maybe. Don�t you want me with you, boy-o?� the Spirit replies.

I shake my head. �No, if you can get them or get close enough to get a message to them, that�d be better. Never know what kind of trouble I�ll run into, and this looks like the way to the Boss.�

Left unsaid is the fact that if I fail, we need one of the others to succeed.

Down the hallway, as I close in on the upcoming cavern, my eyes widen. I guess they held back a couple dozen. I snarl, skidding to a stop. The sudden eruption of acid blobs, plasma bolts, and beams tell me that my arrival was expected. Crouching out of sight, I draw forth grenades and toss them in one after the other. I�m sure the Spores will send the Frakin to me eventually, once they realize what�s happening, but it�ll take time for them to figure it out and even more time to send the commands to the sick creatures. Time I can use to whittle down my opponents.

Explosions ripple outward from the cavern as I sling grenade after grenade, explosions and disappearing red dots telling the tale to me. Unfortunately, I can�t kill enough of them before they�re on me, trundling up the slight slope of the cavern to enter the passageway. I find myself fighting in the middle of a swarm again, sword spinning and cutting, moving from one hand to another as I cut, kick, and punch my way through the monsters. I know better than to hold still, so I dance into their midst. Blasts of plasma and globs of acid fly all around me. Pincers glance off my armor and add to my momentum. Don�t stop�don�t ever stop.

I find myself through the group, a pair of grenades in hand. I flip them into the center of the swarming mass, the resulting explosion barely muffled by the press of bodies. I hop backward, raising my rifle and spraying the remaining monsters on full-auto, dumping the entire magazine into them in a few seconds. I land, sword appearing in hand to deflect a spike of stone, as I scan my opponents. Only a half dozen left, most of them pretty damaged.

I flex my legs, dashing forward to finish this. Time to get rid of these minnows.

Finding the Boss Frakin and, hopefully, the core of the Spore mind is easy after that. There�s only one passageway from here. As I sneak forward, I wonder how bad this is going to be.

Well, at least I know why the Spores haven�t gotten much more active in spreading themselves�the Boss Frakin is so big, there�s no way it could fit through the passageways. Of course, that also explains why the Spores have gotten so smart, if they�ve taken over that as their Overmind�s body.

Eight legs, a double pair of pincers that fit over its bulbous body, three stingers, and more teeth than I have bullets make up the reddish-brown monster. Scrambling around it are more Frakin, maybe a dozen, that are each about double the size of a normal creature. And clustered around those are another score of smaller Frakin, a mix of glowing green, red, and purple stingers indicating a slew of nasty ranged options.

The fact that half the Frakin are watching my passageway and the other half are looking to my left has me giving the cavern a more thorough investigation. A moment later, I realize why�there�s another entrance that way. Smaller, tighter, and more exposed than mine, but definitely another way in.

I draw a deep breath, exhaling as my mind runs. This is bad. This is more than I can handle. Certainly the Boss is a lot bigger than I ever expected. This�this is something I�d want my whole party to tackle.

On the other hand, it�s not as if there�s anyone else here to help me. If I want it dead, I�m going to have to do it. Biting my lip, I start planning.

Chapter 22

Five minutes later, I�m done. First step was to set up a few sensors down the way I came to ensure I have some warning when the monsters come for me. Sure, I could theoretically spot it in my minimap, but if I�m in the middle of a fight, I don�t want to count on that.

Second step is to split their forces. No reason to try to fight all of them, not if I can help it. I tap into my Altered Space, grab the guns I stored there, and set them up quickly, along with more Claymore mines in two separate locations. I then push them outward and flick their targeting software on, watching as they spew fire at the monsters beneath me. I back off from the ledge and around cover as return fire comes in short order.

The guns last all of a few seconds before they get blown to pieces, which is the main reason why we didn�t even bother setting them up for the swarm. However, they do what I wanted, which is attract attention and drag the Frakin to me. They come, but they come in force, nearly half the group that was watching my passageway rushing in.

I cast Polar Wind immediately, the Spell freezing and slowing the monsters as they trundle forward. It does very little damage, unlike the high explosive projectiles I unleash next, but it buys me time and, more importantly, bunches them up. When the vanguard is past the immediate blast area, I trigger the Claymores.

Only two thirds of the Claymores go off unfortunately�it seems they aren�t rated to handle the intense cold brought about by my Spell. Pressurized air and thousands of ball bearings spin outward, confined in the passageways so that even those that miss on the first pass have a second, third, and even fourth chance to kill and damage. Of course, even backed off as I am, I get smashed by a few too, but Sabre�s armor is more than sufficient to take the bouncebacks with little additional damage.

Once the explosion dies down a little, I wade into the group, cutting and chopping and firing into open wounds. Fun fact�screwed-up, System-enabled world or not, you can still do more damage by shooting into exposed wounds than you can just shooting indiscriminately. Of course, it isn�t that easy�the Frakin Champions are true monsters, big and tough, and even injured, they put up a good fight. At the end of it, I�m limping and Sabre�s down to eighty-two percent integrity. As my bullets get reloaded, I cast a quick Healing to speed up the recovery process for myself.

Stage two done, I poke my head around the corner carefully before pulling back as shots come within seconds. It�s enough to let me know that not much has changed, other than a redistribution of the monsters inside. I scurry to the side then poke my head out again, noting they aren�t coming up. My precautions are of little use as the Boss decides to let loose a blast from its stinger. The explosion throws me into the wall and backward down the corridor. I groan, seeing the flashing damage icons.

Stage three it is then.

I wish I could say I have a brilliant, mind-shatteringly smart idea. I don�t. I don�t even have a particularly good idea. All I have is a bunch of explosives, my Spells, and the need to finish this off. I take a running start, crossing the ground to the entrance of the cavern as Frakin continue to lob attacks at it occasionally. As I near, I Blink Step into the air, bypassing the additional reflexive fire that comes at where I should be if I exited normally. This gives me more than enough time to launch my first set of missiles into the gathered Frakin, and I watch the missiles throw up flame, dirt, and blood below me. Even as I land, I�m casting Polar Wind with one hand and snatching smoke grenades to toss onto the ground with the other.

As I sprint to the side, I keep my head swiveling, tagging monsters in my display with a thought as I keep dropping the temperature via Polar Wind. I have to keep them on their toes, keep rocking them with sudden changes and new tactics, so that I can fight them piecemeal and whittle them down. As the smoke grenades begin to fill the air, I add my last additional toy to the battle�high-tech white phosphorous grenades. I throw the self-propelled grenades into the air, where they split apart, each separate portion tracking their pre-selected targets. The portions attach before igniting the phosphorous and directing the burning substance into the creatures as 2760 C, or about half the surface temperature of the sun.

The Frakin go crazy, the incendiaries burning through their chitin and ticking down their health. Of course, the System does reduce the amount of actual physical damage based off their health points, but pain is the major goal here.

Instinct makes me trigger Blink Step and not a moment too soon, as the Boss�s stinger smashes into the column of stone I was hiding behind. As I reappear, I spin around and trigger my rifle, going full-auto into the creature�s side. The Boss is a weird image of wireframe outlines, infrared shading, and normal vision as my helmet compensates for reduced visibility. I�m targeting a single spot�just below the second pair of legs. where the creature�s heart is. If I can chew through enough of its armor, I just might be able to do some real damage. My heart thuds faster, my breathing shortening slightly as I recall the stinger, but I don�t have time.

I keep moving, opening fire with rifle and missiles, leaving my sword to cut and slice monsters as I dance through the cavern, always trying to keep my target in sight. Occasionally I toss a sticky grenade at a monster that nears me, capturing and locking it in place. Unfortunately, I forget I�m fighting a thinking creature and my movements are too predictable.

As I lop off the leg of a Champion Frakin, the Boss�s pincer catches me and throws me into a wall. It�s only the reduced visibility and its sickness that makes the Boss�s next swing mostly miss, the pincer smashing into my upper left side and crushing Sabre�s shield, sending me careening off in a different direction. Lucky for me�otherwise the follow-up blast from the other stinger might have finished me off.

My ears are ringing and I can taste blood as I slowly look up. The Frakin Boss isn�t stopping though, rushing toward me as I stagger to my feet. I need time, so I slap on my Mana Shield just in time for one of the Plasma Frakin�s blasts to be caught on it. I trigger Blink Step again, wincing as my Mana pool drops once more.

A glance at the Boss Frakin is all I need to tell me that this isn�t working. Fighting a monster like this head-on was a vain hope, but it�s not as if I had a choice. Somewhere back there, my friends are fighting, maybe dying. I have to finish this.

Of course, wishing something will happen doesn�t mean that it will, and all I�ve got right now is a lot of wishes and dreams. Running to the side, sword slashing out against the monsters, I stare at the blinking icons indicating that I�ve loaded everything I have. Once I shoot this, I�m done�then I�m down to hacking and cutting at the Boss.

�Keep it busy for another minute, boy-o.� Ali�s dry tone almost makes me shout in joy.

I nod, thinking a confirmation as I switch directions, running straight into the incoming pair of Champion Frakin. I catch one of their stingers on the sword, spin around with its momentum to help me dodge the second, then Blink Step away as the blast from the Boss�s stinger turns the Champions into so much crispy meat. A wavefront of the blast catches me, tossing me to the ground. I roll with it and spin up, loosing a short burst that tears open and ends the Acid Frakin rearing above me. Warning lights blink as the damn acid eats into Sabre, but I�m up and running again.

I trigger Blink Step, watching my Mana plunge as I flicker to a spot that gives me a view of the Boss monster. Or will, I hope, as I fire the missiles. The monster spins just like I figured it would. Or perhaps I should say its reactions to my previous actions are predictable. Either way, it puts itself perfectly in position to receive the full load of mini-missiles into its side, each tiny guided package impacting and ripping deeper and deeper into the Boss�s torso.

In anger, the monster swings down a pincer to crush me and I don�t have time to dodge. Instead, I conjure my sword and take the blow on it, gripping the blade with my other armored hand as the weight of the monster bears down on me. Power-assisted knees buckle and pain shoots up my thighs as I crumple, the too-sharp edge of my blade having cut through the monster�s chitin such that the rest of the pincer smashes into me. Oops�

Warning lights shriek all around me and I whimper slightly, the ringing in my head having gotten so much worse. My sword, still embedded in the pincer gets taken into the air as the monster withdraws its appendage, leaving me in a crumpled camel pose. I watch in slow motion as the monster aims its glowing, beam-casting stinger at me even as I attempt to scramble away. The explosion of light and sound that comes from the side catches both of us by surprise.

A red beam of light with twisting green and white streams erupts from the second entrance, smashing into the creature with such force that its own beam is jerked aside and played across a trio of unlucky Frakin charging toward me. I stumble to my feet as the maelstrom of energy digs into the monster�s side and tears off a stinger and two legs, ripping a giant hole in the Boss�s body. The legs flop to the ground, still twitching, as blood spills in a waterfall, just like the Boss�s health bar. The beam adjusts and continues to burn through the monster. A bare fifth of its health is all that�s left when the beam finally stops, but the Boss is still standing.

I snarl, dodging to the side as a Champion Frakin staggers up to me. I recall my sword, cut at its pincers, and when a chance comes, I call up Cleave to help shear off a pincer entirely. I do all this while my brain switches to overdrive, trying to figure out what other options we have left.

�Ali, who was that? And can they do it again?� I find myself mentally shouting as I work to finish off this monster.

�Vir and no can do. He�s tapped. Whoops! Sorry, those beams can hurt even me�got to do some dodging here. He�s switching over to his guns, but that ain�t going to cut it.�

I grunt, stabbing my sword directly into the monster�s mouth. �Shadow-girl?�

�The assassin? No idea�I haven�t seen her.�

Shit, if she doesn�t find her way here herself, there�s no way Ali can find her and make it back in time. It�s a minor miracle he found Vir.

Too busy paying attention to my talk, I move just a little too slow and the damn Frakin chomps down on my arm. It compresses the armor around me, grinding away, and I snarl, summoning and casting Mana Darts directly down its guts. The Champion shudders, tossing me aside with a reflexive twitch that has me landing on my side and rolling for a few seconds.

I use a nearby stalagmite to pull myself up, grimacing as I flex my hand. Thankfully, the Boss, along with the majority of the surviving monsters, is busy making Vir�s life miserable. The smoke has dissipated enough that the creatures are finding me faster and faster now. On the other hand, at least the bugger who decided to try to eat me is dead. Mana Darts down its throat was enough to make it choke to death.

I blink, staring at the Boss. I have a way to finish this. It just requires I do something utterly insane. Well� that�s not new.

�Oy! Big boy!� I shout, using the mecha�s inbuilt speakers to make sure I�m heard. The Boss hesitates, so I use a few Blade Strikes to drag its attention to me again, targeting the open wound I was working on. �That�s right. Right here, stupid.�

The Boss finally turns to me, beam stinger swinging around to aim at me. A targeted blast by Vir catches it as it begins to charge up, forcing it to aim higher. I don�t waste any more time, dashing forward to the creature�s body. One thing about it being so big, there are dead zones where its own pincers can�t target�if you can get close enough.

I run ahead, letting loose with the last of my projectile ammo as I do so, and carefully watch for the attack I know will come. When the pincer swings, I Blink forward to where I should be safe. Then I open up with another Blade Strike, targeting the softer, less-armored underside.

Not good enough to kill it, but it certainly angers the monster. Anger is good�it lets you push through pain and obstacles that you couldn�t otherwise, but it also blinds you, clouds your judgment, and makes you take the easiest, most instinctive choice. I can�t be hit by the pincers, but I�m close enough to bite. So it does.

�Noooo!� Ali screams as I stand still, letting the mouth close in on me.

At the last minute, I kick off the ground and jump directly into its mouth, throwing myself as deep as I can get to bypass as much of the teeth as possible. I make it most of the way, my foot catching and ripping itself apart on the backrow of teeth.

It�s very dark in here�dark and squishy. I�m entirely grateful that I can neither smell nor truly feel what is happening to me, thanks to Sabre and the Soul Shield I�ve turned on. On the other hand, the Boss, having eaten me, has decided to swallow. I find myself thrown to the back of its throat, and only a hastily dug-in sword to its larynx stops me from sliding all the way in. It takes a little scrambling and a lot of hard pushing, but I find myself lodged just above the creature�s esophagus.

Still, can�t let it go hungry. I drop the first of the sticky grenades I have left down its throat, ignoring the screaming alarm bells and the increased pressure on me as the Boss swings its head around, trying to dislodge me. The grenade goes off, coating the insides of its throat. It explodes below where I wanted it to go off, but that�s okay, I�ve got more coming.

Before I started this insane plan, I spent a few moments running around the cavern, grabbing bodies and rocks and stuffing it all into my Altered Space. Now I let it loose, along with everything else I�ve got stored in there. My tent, drone pieces, armor replacements for Sabre, tent pegs and hammocks, my dinner, everything in my Altered Space gets dropped down its throat, interspersed with the occasional sticky grenade. The Boss keeps reflexively swallowing, attempting to dislodge me and get its breathing back, but I refuse, continually working on clogging up its throat and thus its airway.

My Soul Shield finally blinks out and I don�t have enough Mana to throw up another. The Boss swallows again and the muscles in its throat clench, sending pain through my body as Sabre compresses and begins to redline. That�s it then. That�s all I can do.

I rip downward with my sword, opening up the wound in its mouth, then I trigger the QSM for one final shift, dropping myself out of this reality and consequently its mouth. I hit the ground hard, as gravity still works on me, and am treated to the final death throes of the Boss. It tosses and turns, slamming its head against the ground and the wall in an attempt to dislodge and clear its throat.

As I get up to run, the Mana battery in the QSM beeps empty and it automatically kicks me back into �normal� reality. Without any additional Mana, the changeover is harsh and pulls a scream from me as muscles, bones, and nerves are thrown across the dimensional barrier. I whimper, lying on the ground in pain, unable to move as the Boss lashes out in a frenzy around me. A glancing blow from one of its legs sends me flying into a wall, and I black out finally.

I come to in blessed peace. Outside of the hiss of cooling stone and the drip of water, there is silence. Awake and without Sabre, I�m assaulted by the stench in the cavern. In its dying moments, the Boss Frakin voided its bowels, leaving a yellow-pink mixture all around that smells worse than two-week-old rotting meat and baby diapers. I heave and throw up, only managing to roll far enough to the side that only half of my vomit hits me.

I whimper, the sudden movement setting off a pair of screaming toddlers in my head. Mana drained, physically wiped, and with only a touch of health left, I wonder where Sabre is and why I�m unarmored, but mostly, I wonder when the pain will stop.

�Awake finally, eh?� The voice cuts across my misery, gloating amusement in its tone. �Well, rest five minutes, then we should get going. The Frakin are still around and some are beginning to come back.�

I open my eyes, blurry spots slowly resolving into Shadow-girl. I�ve really got to remember her name sometime. Next to her, Ali floats, casually admiring her booty. I�d say something, but I�m pretty sure she knows�and has either given up on correcting the incorporeal Spirit or just doesn�t care. Next to the two is the split-open form of Sabre�the mecha must have ejected me after its Mana battery gave out.

�You are insane, boy-o. Effective but insane,� Ali says, and I force a grin.

�Had you worried.� I try to push myself up and find myself failing to do so. I just relax as my body, aided by the regeneration potions I downed earlier, works on putting me together. Already, my body is repairing the damage.

�I must concur with the Spirit,� Vir adds from where he is seated, head resting on his arms. There�s blood on his torso and one arm looks pretty shredded. He smiles at me though, probably to show he means no real disrespect. It looks creepy on the normally stern Guard, and I wish he�d stop. �That was not a tactic I would have considered.�

�No shit,� the woman says, eyes roving over the cavern.

I tilt my head upward, noting that her Status bar is still blank. Damn, but it�s annoying not being able to read System data on her.

�What exactly did you do anyway? Poison it?� she asks.

I blink, then realize they would have no way to see into the monster�s corpse. �Blocked its airway. Choked it to death.�

�Huh.� Shadow-girls frowns.

I see a slight shift in her body just before she disappears and closes in on the Frakin that wandered back into the cavern. A moment later, she walks back to us, cleaning her blade. Behind her, the Frakin screams and twitches, its legs on one side severed. It begins to froth from its mouth as the poison she used takes effect.

�You good yet?� she asks.

I glance at my bars and take stock of my own physical situation before I answer her. �Five minutes.�

�Fine.�

While I recover, Ali fills me in on what happened after I blacked out. Seems like Shadow-girl popped over to my body and dragged me out of the way of the frenzied Boss, then she protected Vir and me from the remnants of the Frakin guard while the Boss died. It didn�t take long, and she mopped up the group soon after. Since then, they�ve been waiting for me to wake up. I guess I owe the lady one.

When they finish speaking, I read System notifications as a way to distract myself from the throbbing pain.

Congratulations! Dungeon Cleared

+10,000 XP

First Clear Bonus

Having cleared the dungeon for the first time, you have been rewarded an additional +5,000XP +1,000 Credits. Bonus for being the first explorer +5,000 XP +5,000 Credits.

Two-Horn Mountain Dungeon classified as Level 50+ and above.

System Quest Complete (Onlivik Spores)

Destroy the Onlivik Spores that have infected the Frakin in the Two-Horn Mountain Dungeon.

Rewards (shared): 50,000 Credits, 20,000 XP

Level Up! * 4

You have reached Level 34 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 12 Free Attribute Points and 3 Class Skills to distribute.

I blink, staring at the huge level gains. Between the completion bonuses and the kill bonuses, I jumped up a heck of a lot of Levels in one fight. I wish it�d been earlier, but beggars and choosers and all that.

�Next time you�re on one of these jaunts, call me,� Shadow-girl says as I look up. �The experience was pretty damn good.�

I snort and glance at Vir, who is looking significantly better now.

He straightens, standing up and pulling a rifle from his inventory. �Shall we?�

The journey back is a slow one, only manageable because the Frakin are disorganized, damaged, and confused. The loss of the Boss must have wiped out their central intelligence, removing any last remnants of organization. Shadow-girl�whose name I finally learn is Ingrid Starling�makes sure to kill any Frakin we run into. Vir and I mostly offer verbal and moral encouragement.

Two thirds of the way back, we finally run into our first rescue party. They have been setting up signal boosters along the way, which lets us contact everyone else and confirm that we�re alive. The news on their end is less than stellar and I find myself dragging my feet more than I need to as we return. Call me a coward, but I�d rather face another Boss than what is coming.

The air in the cavern is somber when we arrive, individuals clustered in silent groups around fallen comrades. Low sobbing and grunting can be heard, while others carry their loss with fixed expressions, unable or unwilling to grieve yet. We won, but we didn�t get out of this unscathed. The Hakarta lost a third of their people, having borne the brunt of the attacks, while the Yerick lost another pair. On our side, Jim�s lost half of those he brought in. However, to me, all that pales beside the drawn, haggard face that is swarmed by huskies in an attempt at comfort.

I walk over to Lana, gently pushing at the puppies to move them aside. My gut clenches and I feel tears threaten to take over, but I push them aside, walling away my feelings. Not now, not me. Lana is sobbing, clutching the unmoving body with a death grip, blood staining her clothing from the open wounds on his corpse. Rachel grips Jason�s arm as they watch over the redhead, at a loss of words. Squatting beside her, I place a hand on her shoulder. Lana flinches slightly but doesn�t pull away. I feel a lump in my throat, blocking any words I could say. In the end, I just squat next to her, a hand on her shoulder, and wait.

Damn it, Richard.

Chapter 23

It takes a day more to completely clear the dungeon. With Mana pools and beam weapons recharged and the Frakin no longer bunching up and coordinated, it�s a simple matter for the teams to spread out and finish off the monsters. I stay behind, keeping watch over the camp and Lana, who has taken control of her brother�s pets, replacing those she lost. The only pet of Richard�s that survived but she doesn�t manage to get is Orel, who is long gone when we exit. Their job done, the Hakarta take off immediately with promises to get paid. Labashi shoots me a look when he leaves which reminds me that I�m still indebted and under contract with him.

In typical post-System fashion, the moment we get back to Whitehorse, we end up having to man the walls and fight off a monster swarm. Thankfully, it hits us from the airport side of town, so all we have to do is hunker down and kill. A few monsters try going down the cliffs, but they�re simple enough to kill that it�s more of a bother than a serious threat. We�ll never know if a party was planned because after the swarm, everyone pitches in on the cleanup. Even Bill, though I notice he spends about as much time looting as he does hauling.

The fallout from the delve comes in small portions. Rachel left Whitehorse permanently, joining Jason in Carcross. Aiden has vowed to never leave the classroom again. There�re even rumors that we might get another batch of immigrants soon from the System.

When I find time to visit the Shop, I sell the System-generated loot from my inventory. The central-Spore mass and the Frakin plasma generators both bring in significant Credits. I don�t have the heart to go shopping right then though.

Once she calms down, Lana has me take Richard�s body into my Altered Space to preserve it. A week after he died, we finally manage to make the trip to their old farm to bury him, his body set to rest beneath the remnants of their old house. Lana says little during the entire process, though I think, I believe, she finds comfort in Mikito�s and my presence.

I watch her stand with her menagerie of pets, staring at her brother�s grave, and my mind returns to the first night we got back to Whitehorse after the dungeon. She entered my room, distraught, and pushed me down, straddling me and laying fevered kisses on my face. I have to admit, I returned them for a time before good sense came back to me and I pushed her away.

�Why? Am I not good enough for you?� She was crying, clutching her open blouse closed. I recall the flash of pale, smooth flesh and the intoxicating scent of her.

�No, but you�re grieving. This� you aren�t thinking right.�

She slapped me then and left. Since then, there�s been a wall between us. I don�t know if I did the right thing, if I made the right choice. I want her, I care for her�but not like that. What she wanted and what she needed weren�t the same thing�and if I took advantage of her at that time, perhaps it would have wrecked our relationship. Or at least changed it in a way that I don�t want. Or maybe not. Maybe I was an idiot.

I don�t know if I did the right thing for her, for us, for our future. All I know is that it was the right choice for me at that time. Whatever happens, happens.

Lana slowly steps away from the grave, which has already received a light dusting of snow. She turns toward us, nodding just once before she walks to the truck. Something in the way she moves, the way she looks at us keeps us from bothering her.

I stare one last time at the grave, just a plot of earth and a basic stone cross. My lips twist as I realize that this, a simple ceremony and a grave, is more than most on this planet have been offered. More than the majority of humanity has to indicate their passing.

I close my eyes and whisper to Ali, �How many?�

�Eleven point four percent,� Ali answers, his voice as soft as mine.

I nod dumbly. Nearly ninety percent of humanity, countless millions, are dead. I can�t do anything for them. I can�t even stop the ones who are still alive from dying, can�t stop the mass murder of millions by the System. We�re not the only ones either. On all the planets of the System, more die every day.

Our heroes are dead. The smart, the brave, and the good lie in countless graves all over the world. I keep trying to be something I�m not, and I keep failing. I�m no hero, no Lancelot or Superman. I don�t do this because it�s the right thing to do or because I think there�s an intrinsic value to human life. I do it because I can�t let go, because I can�t seem to choose anything else. I do it because I have a sea of rage that never ends and I need an outlet, a place to point it.

What is, is.

No more walking away, no more hiding. The dead howl and cry; the lost and forgotten souls of the world weep. I�ll light a pyre for them�for the ones who have died, for the ones who will die, and for the ones who will come into this blasted world. I�ll light a fire so bright that they�ll see it all the way in their damn Council. And then, when I�m done, I�ll burn their damn System to the ground.

Ali floats back to me, staring at my face, and he inclines his head slightly. Yes, it�s time to get back to work.

***

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 1)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with Mana to deal more damage on each hit. +10 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Blade Strike (Level 2)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to twenty feet away.

Cost: 35 Stamina + 35 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of thirty feet cubed. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to one kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills, and ambient Mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulatable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line of sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�five hundred meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%.

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 1)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 50% more damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item in Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must touch item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Author�s Note

Thank you for continuing to read and support my writing. The System Apocalypse series is meant to be an on-going series that will span at least nine books, potentially more. The Whitehorse portion of the series will come to a conclusion in the next book. I�d say more, but that�d be giving away the plot.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Not only is it a big ego boost, it also helps sales and convinces me to write more in the series!

Additional books for the System Apocalypse are out including:

- Redeemer of the DeadRedeemer of the Dead(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075NR9RCH)

(Book 2)

- The Cost of Survival (Book 3)The Cost of Survival (Book 3)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079B7B4GP/)

In addition, please check out my other LitRPG series (available on Amazon, Smashwords, iBooks and more!)�

- A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

- An Adventurer�s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)An Adventurer�s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B075NT92ML/ref%3dseries_rw_dp_sw)

- A Dungeon�s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)A Dungeon�s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077NNGXKY)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

- LitRPG SocietyLitRPG Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

- LitRPG Books- LitRPG Books(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books/)

About the Author

Tao Wong is an avid fantasy and sci-fi reader who spends his time working and writing in the North of Canada. He�s spent way too many years doing martial arts of many forms, and having broken himself too often, he now spends his time writing about fantasy worlds.

For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

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The Cost of Survival

Tao Wong

System Apocalypse #3

The Cost of Survival

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 3 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

The Cost of Survival

ISBN: 9781775058762

Chapter 1

Regrets are a part of life, one that we all bear in different forms.. Words that should never have been said, punches that should never have been thrown, anger that should never have been swallowed. Actions and inactions can lead to regret, making your entire world nothing but pain and disappointment over things you should have done or not done.

Right about now, I�m regretting getting out of bed and making this meeting.

�You going to help?� I snarl as I snap-kick a weird snake-cow hybrid away from me, then shoot the one that follows it in the gut. Standing in the middle of a monster swarm in the Carcross Cutoff, surrounded by Hakarta who are barely bothering to do anything, is not happy making. It really isn�t. Of course, if I�d known the swarm would happen while we were talking, I would never have come out but some things you just can�t control.

Major Labashi Rukar, the space-marine mercenary Orc and my erstwhile semi-employer, grins at me in response. Labashi flicks a pebble with his off-hand so hard that the impromptu projectile pierces a Snow Caribou in the head, dropping it instantly. The major and most of his people out-level the swarm of monsters around us by a significant amount. Which would be great for me if they decided to actually help. Instead, Labashi seems insistent on continuing my debrief.

�This is the fifth swarm then?� Labashi says in that System-given upper-class British accent of his.

Another of the deer swerves rather than rush him, heading in my direction. Behind it, even more monsters cluster and charge over the snow, the swarm running, jumping, and flying away as they abandon old zones for newer, less dangerous ones. Monster swarms are part and parcel of our life since the System designated Earth as a Dungeon World. Mana begets monsters who vie for control of mana-rich zones. Leave the monsters alone in any one zone too long and the most powerful eventually drive away the lower-level ones, kicking off a giant domino effect.

I sidestep the deer whose head butts up against Sabre�s�my mecha-cum-motorcycle�shield before I snap off a shot with the Inlin machine gun at another threat. �Just about.�

�Just about?�

Beside Labashi, the rest of his squad are taking bets and fighting bare-handed in a casual display of strength while they wait.

�Yes. The fifth! Things have been a bit busy lately,� I snap as I shoot the next three deer in quick succession. High-explosive projectile rounds from the Inlin tear holes into the monsters, sufficient to deter their advance. �The swarms are coming faster and faster.�

�Not surprising. Your defenses?�

�Improving. The first were ultra-low levels. These guys,� I snarl and catch the Level 24 wolverine before it can clamp its jaws around my helmet. A powered-armor-assisted throw sends the monster flying into the distance to be gored by another as it lands. �Are a bit more of a challenge than the last swarm.�

�Your hunters leveling?� Labashi continues with his questioning about the city.

Months ago, I ended up with a System-enforced Contract with the major, forcing me to feed him information about Whitehorse whenever he wants it. I do get paid in Credits, but even if everyone knows I�m spying for him, I still feel a little dirty about it all.

Above us, Ali sits cross-legged in his usual orange jumpsuit, holding a bowl of popcorn and staring at a System screen only he can see. I�d ask what my brown-skinned System Companion is watching, but it�s likely some cheesy reality TV show. The last time I checked, he was into house hunting and renovations, but I�m pretty sure he�s moved on by now. I�d be annoyed by his antics if I wasn�t so damn used to them. Actually, never mind. I am annoyed.

�Decently. Most are in their mid-30s now and they�ve gotten pretty serious about training. The displacement has made it a lot easier to find level-appropriate monsters.� I duck beneath a magpie that�s literally on fire. �This swarm might be a bit of a push, but they should be able to handle it.�

That also explains why I�m doing my best to kill, maim, and otherwise redirect as many of them as I can before they reach Whitehorse. The fewer of these monsters there are, the fewer the city will have to deal with and the easier they�ll have it. Especially since in monster swarms, the damn System reduces our experience gains while it�s happening, so no one is leveling up from this. On the other hand, the system-generated quests for safeguarding the city can compensate for the loss in experience�if I had been in town.

Ten months since the world changed under a series of blue System notification windows and we�ve lost nearly ninety percent of the human population and all our electronics. The earth had plunged back into the early 1900s, since delicate electronics don�t mix well with high levels of Mana�unless they�ve been specially constructed. I�d been caught up in the change while I was camping in Kluane National Park and, luckily, ended up with a few additional System-generated Perks due to my location.

Without electricity, without most of our machinery, and with monsters spawning all across the world, staying alive became a mad scramble for everyone. Unfortunately, keeping as many people as possible alive meant making some deals with people I shouldn�t have.

�What are you doing here anyway?� I say as I spin and chop the head off a monster, my soulbound sword appearing in my hand. One of the nice things about my Class was I got to bind a weapon to me. It levels as I level, giving it greater strength and sharpness. It also appears and disappears on command, which can lead to some really interesting fighting techniques.

�I�m out of those Belgium chocolates.�

Bullshit. Considering I buy my chocolates from the Shop, he could get some just as easily as I do. Which is trivial, so long you have enough Credits. Heck, you can buy anything in the Shop�and I do mean anything. Secrets, Classes, Skills, equipment, and more. I�ve even heard that there are sections in the Shop that include sentient contracts. Serfdom, if not slavery.

�Bullshit.�

�Again, I am not Yerick,� Labashi says, referring to the minotaurs that have taken up residence in the city. �And your other visitors?

�Xev and Sally?� I play dumb, not that I expect it�ll work. Xev�s a giant arachnid that makes grown men cry, and Sally�s a tiny cheerful gnome with a very sharp tongue. Both Galactics are well known to Labashi and his employer.

�No. The Kapre.�

�Oh. Them.� I sigh.

The Kapre are recent immigrants, another race of disenfranchised aliens who have been ground under the System�s heel. Unlike the Yerick, they never had a whole planet of their own�they were one of four races on their home planet. When their planet integrated into the System, they spread across the Galactic core in a desperate race to remain relevant and level up. All of the Kapre are tall�like, a good seven feet tall�with elongated faces and brown bark-like skin. Weirdly enough, they all have beards and are, at least to human eyes, male. All of them.

�They�re doing well. I think. Hard to tell. They�ve taken over the hills along Long Lake behind Riverdale and don�t mix much with us. Humans aren�t excluded from going in, but we�re not exactly welcome either.�

�Us?�

�The city.�

�So you have become an us,� Labashi muses, absently holding a tiger-like monster by its face as it attempts to claw him. Razor-sharp claws just bounce off his armor, which is impressive, considering most armor takes damage from attacks like that. I have a feeling a Skill of some type is being applied to increase the armor�s strength and durability. Might be something for me to look into.

�Yeah.� I flick my blade wide, calling forth a Skill of my own and sending a wave of power flowing forward in its wake, cutting through monsters and throwing the tougher ones aside. Blade Strike, my anime-inspired�or really, the other way around if I understand how this works�System-generated Skill.

�Interesting. Well, I believe this is all that we needed,� Labashi says then raises his hand. Light plays along it for a moment, then he calls down the sky.

Lightning flashes from clear skies to destroy the swarm. My helmet automatically flickers, compensating for the overload of light, and by the time I�ve stopped flinching, the Hakarta are already walking away.

�Oy! Boy-o, they�re still coming,� Ali shouts, and I bring myself back to the present.

The monsters that were present are dead, giving the Hakarta more than enough time to wander away without harassment, but more are coming and I know what I need to do. I call my sword back into my hand and I wait, smiling at the monsters as they come. Time to get back to work.

Two hours later, the swarm is finally gone and I sigh, triggering the mental command that retracts my helmet into a black ring around my neck. The cold air is bracing and pleasant as I lean against the wooden wall of my fort. Well, not mine, since the Council has finally taken it over. Funny thing�once the General Council in the city was ratified by Lord Roxley, the people they sent out to take control of the fort made it part of the city. I didn�t even know you could do that�and neither did they. The Council also made it clear to me that they would like me to not take the structure back, which is more than fair enough. I don�t really have the resources to make the fort all it can be, all it will need to be.

It takes a single mental command and Sabre comes apart, switching back to bike mode. I step away from it, staring at the clear winter skies before taking a deep breath of the crisp air. It is -20 Celsius�cold enough that I should feel it. However, I don�t and I won�t. Just another damn gift from the System. That and the ability to kill and kill and kill without thought or hesitation or regret.

I lean back, watching the sky and glancing occasionally at Ali as he loots the bodies for me, pulling System-generated loot then dumping the corpses into my pocket dimension. I lean back and try to figure out when I stopped feeling anything for the monsters I killed. My hands move, pulling forth a chocolate and popping it into my mouth. I barely even taste it as I stare into the sky, body and soul numb. Silence descends over the fort. It�s a brief moment of peace that I know won�t be here long, because with Labashi�s appearance, matters are definitely coming to a head.

Chapter 2

�Your boss in?� I ask Vir, the lieutenant of the guard who glares at me as I stare around the blue, utilitarian waiting room just before Roxley�s office.

The black-skinned, white-haired Tuinnar in his silver-and-white guard uniform glares at me and I wonder what has him playing receptionist. Or did I just catch him while he was coming out? It�s possible that Vir was just finishing up his report over the swarm.

�Lord Roxley is busy. You may tell me what you wish to tell him,� Vir answers coldly. I get the feeling he�s not a big fan of mine, especially not since learning about my involvement with the Hakarta.

�Well, I could. But then I�d have to go into exhaustive detail about the tongue hockey we did,� I say, grinning.

Vir stares at me before his face goes even flatter than normal. �Adventurer Lee, do you actually have anything relevant to say?�

�Fee fii foo fum�� I stop, shaking my head. �Sorry. I�m feeling a bit silly right now. Might be the swarm I was fighting in in the outskirts of town. Or the talk I had with Labashi.�

�You spoke with Major Rukar?� Vir says, interest piquing his voice despite his best efforts. �Directly, I assume?�

�Face to snout.� I nod. �Wanna see?�

�I�� Vir tilts his head for a second before he steps sideways, gesturing to the blank wall that hides the door to Roxley�s office. �Lord Roxley will see us now.�

�Figures,� Ali mutters, flying alongside us as we enter Lord Graxan Roxley�s, current holder of the Key to Whitehorse and Baron of the Seven Seas, office.

Virtual reality software, floating blue screens from the System, and the ability to share information directly means his office mostly consists of a series of really comfortable chairs and a single black marble desk. The man�dark elf/Tuinnar�stands there relaxed, smiling with the left side of his face slightly higher than the right in that endearing way that he has, all muscley and good-looking and�

Mental Influence Resisted

Right. I push my hormones down and my lustful thoughts aside as the System reminds me of Roxley�s affect. I�d be annoyed, but he doesn�t even do it on purpose. He just has a series of Skills, Stats, and modifications that makes everyone more susceptible to his charms. Lucky for me, my Class comes with extremely high level resistances, so I�m pretty safe from the direct affects. It doesn�t stop me from wanting to jump his bones, but that�s more personal.

I think.

�John,� Roxley says, and his voice is like dark chocolate rubbing over my skin.

�Wakey wakey. Stop drooling. Lord Roxley. Perhaps you�d care to see this?� Ali slides in while I get myself under control as he projects a video of our meeting in a series of blue windows.

�Thank you,� Roxley says.

Vir steps closer, both of them falling silent as they listen to the edited video.

�You edited this?� Vir says, looking at Ali.

�Yup. Left the relevant points in. No point watching John get his ass kicked.�

�I would like the unedited videos for my files,� Vir states.

�And I�d like a Nymph,� Ali answers.

I glare at Ali and the Spirt snorts, waggling a finger, which I assume is him sending it on. After that, the pair stays silent till the video finishes.

�So it begins,� Roxley finally says, exhaling slightly as he turns to me.

�Do you think it�s time for you to explain what it is?� I answer.

Vir and Lord Roxley exchange a look before Roxley speaks. �You know most of it. Duchess Kangana owns much of the land north and to the west of us, the area that you once called Alaska. It is our belief that she intended to purchase Whitehorse as well, creating a monopoly in this region. We do not believe she has given up on those plans as yet.�

�But why? That�s the bit I don�t get.�

�High-level zones in a Dungeon World are extremely lucrative if well-managed. In your parlance, they�re a high-risk, high-reward location. High-level monsters have more mana-dense bodies and loot, which allows the creation of more durable, powerful, and expensive equipment. Control over a single staging area is extremely valuable, and wars have been fought in established Dungeon Worlds for such locations.�

Well, that explained the why. Especially if she could get a monopoly and build out. It also explained why the Duchess decided to go for the larger cities rather than our tiny town. On the other hand�

�Why hasn�t she or someone else come yet? If it�s so valuable.�

�Why did your big companies not go into smaller developing countries?� Roxley asked rhetorically. After a moment, as he saw the blank look in my eyes, he added, �Too much risk during the initial development stage, for too little gain. While the returns can be high, until the flow of loot and resources have increased, the risk of losing one�s capital entirely is too great. Most of the major players are already dedicated to other, more established regions. When the Dungeon World is established, when the flow of loot has increased sufficiently, then the largest groups step in.�

�What�s her play?� I ask as I digest the tacit admission that Roxley is considered a small fish in the Galactic pond.

�Unknown. She has the military resources to crush us, but that reduces the value of the city. It would be more optimal for her to win this without fighting, but we have no word on her plans as yet. However, I do not believe she will hold off much longer.�

�No, I�m pretty sure you�re right about that.� I exhale, glancing between the two before I ask the next question, the one I�ve dreaded. �What can I do?�

Roxley and Vir share a look before Roxley replies. �As yet, nothing. We will inform you once your aid is required.�

I have a feeling they aren�t being entirely truthful with me. My actions have put me on the outside once again. I stare between the pair one last moment before nodding and turning away. Fine. I�ll just do my own thing then.

I stare at Aiden as he crouches, drawing on the ground with a wand that bites into the asphalt, his signature manbun swaying as he works. I have to grunt in annoyance even as I watch the mage work. I�d looked the hipster up for another lesson and instead got dragged into some civic duty. I�ll admit, I am learning a little about enchanting and Mana manipulation, but this really was not what I was hoping to learn. A new healing spell, maybe a combat one. Not how to enchant roads with an ongoing heating spell to keep the snow off.

�Battery.�

I hand to him the Mana battery, which consists of a tiny Mana crystal and battery interfaces. Aiden grasps the intricately crafted battery, and I watch as he inserts it into the ground and closes off the enchantment. The moment he�s done, Aiden moves smoothly to the side to give me space to work. I bend down and Mana flows from my hand, from the center of my body. I make sure to take the time to really feel it, to sense the changes in my body and the enchantment, the way the runes light up as Mana travels through them, focused through both the script and the intention behind the script. I sense my Mana drop precipitously as I charge the entire spell in one go and top-up the battery at the same time. Tapping into my skill of Mana Manipulation, watching the shift and flow of the blue energy through my body and in the environment, I do my best to take some learning from all this.

That�s the thing about enchantments and magic in this crazy world�it�s all about perception. Elemental Affinities like the one Ali shares with me actually require work. With those, you need to actually understand why and how you�re going to make the changes you want. Mana, on the other hand, is the paint-by-numbers version of the Elemental Affinities, and the System is the art teacher holding your hand.

Once the battery is finally full, I catch up with Aiden, who is already working on the ground twenty meters away. Behind me, the snow�s melting as the runes warm the earth. The battery and charge I�ve provided will last a good week or so, but with so many people running around, it�ll be a simple thing for others to top it up as they go along their day. Or so we hope.

�How much have we gotten done?� I ask.

�We�ve mostly completed the Downtown core. Still need to stretch it out to the industrial district, but getting the main roads into Riverdale sorted was high on the list.�

�That seems fast. You�ve been at this for what? Two weeks?�

�Two and a half. Once the others got trained up, we picked up speed quite a bit,� Aiden answers, brow furrowed. �Biggest problem is getting the initial charge. Not that many people have enough Mana to do that.�

�The hunters should.�

�Har. Half of them are physical specced; the other half are mixed in between. Only a small number are actual Mages. Even those who have enough Mana don�t have the recharge rates we need, so we end up waiting a lot,� Aiden answers. �And don�t forget, we still have to keep clearing the Dungeons and Bosses around the city. The Yerick might be bearing the brunt of that, but our hunters are almost always busy. Hard to justify clearing roads when the swarms keep coming.�

I nod slightly, reminding myself that most Basic classes add three, maybe four attributes at most per level and only by a point, maybe two. The Erethran Honor Guard Class I have is both rare and an Advanced Class, which means I get a huge boost each time I level. Of course, I also level about twice as slowly as everyone else, which is why everyone around me looks as if they�ve got higher Levels than I do.

�How�s the dungeon clearing for you guys?� Aiden asks as he stands, conjuring a flame between his fingers to warm them.

�About the usual. We could use a mage,� I reply, smiling slightly. �We�re a bit too smashy for my liking.�

�Not happening. And Lana? How�s she doing?�

�She�s going through the motions,� Ali sings from his spot above us.

�Why is there music?� Aiden says, looking around as he tries to spot the speakers.

�You can hear it too?� I glare at Ali. I�ve heard it a few times recently, but I figured it was something Ali was doing to mess with me. When the System first came into play, I gave him full access to my settings, the backend of all this. I�ve since come to realize my experience with the System has been somewhat different from others because of that.

�Like it?� Ali flashes a wide grin. �It�s a new ability.�

�You got the ability to play atmospheric music?� I say, disbelief in my voice. �How? Why? When? We haven�t leveled in weeks.�

�What? A Spirit can�t take his time choosing?� Ali points at his clothing. �I got a few different changes of clothing too.�

I look. And then I�m not entirely sure I�m seeing it right. �Are those shoulder pads? And a purple suit?�

�Yup,� Ali says proudly.

Aiden stops even trying to hide his amusement, laughing his ass off, and I close my eyes, breathing deeply. It�s when I�m calmer that I realize maybe having this conversation in front of Aiden wasn�t the best idea�most Companions are purchased or gained at a specific Level. They don�t improve, not without spending more money at the Shop. Ali, on the other hand, is a Linked Companion, which means he does Level at pretty much the same rate I do. I grimace at the thought and finally just shrug. Ah hell, not much I can do about it now.

�So Lana still not doing well?� Aiden says after he recovers from his bout of laughter.

�No. Not really.� I open my mouth to say more, then shut it. I�m not sure it�s my place to explain what I�m thinking, what I fear. �But she�s functioning.�

�Well, tell her we�ve missed her presence on the Council,� Aiden says then gestures to the enchantment. �Your turn.�

�Of course it is.� I bend down.

A trio of beautiful women come walking down the street, flanked by an equal number of huskies the size of ponies and a fiery fox the size of a large dog whose very presence melts the snow around it. Call me crazy, but I know trouble when I see it. That two of the three are members of my usual hunting party lends credence to my thoughts. Lana, on the left, is a buxom redhead whose pets flank the group and whose once-smiling demeanor is now shadowed with loss. Mikito walks in the center, which emphasizes how short the Japanese woman is, her naginata held loosely in one hand. Amelia�s the odd one out. The ex-Constable is often too busy keeping the peace in town, as one of the few human members of the Guard.

�Ladies,� I greet them, glancing at Aiden as I add to him, �I�m nearly out of Mana.�

�Fair enough. We got more done than I expected anyway,� Aiden replies before smiling in greeting at the three.

�John. Aiden,� Mikito says. Unlike what you�d think, the Japanese brunette has one of those hard-to-place North American accents. Accents are one of those weird little idiosyncrasies of purchasing Skills from the System to cover gaps in your own skillset. In Labashi, a British accent. In Mikito, North American. �You done?�

�Done and done,� Ali answers, brushing his hands together. �And not a moment too soon.�

�Good,� Lana says. Like the others, she�s dressed in post-apocalyptic hunter chic�a one-piece armored jumpsuit. She�s switched up her usual colors; instead of the mixed brown and yellow that she used to wear, it�s all black. I have to admit, it�s hot in a 1960s Catwoman way. �We just received some information about a new Boss. One of the hunting groups ran into it. Level 48.�

I grunt, my mind already calling Sabre to me, courtesy of a neural link I got implanted via the Shop. Haven�t actually made great use of the link recently, but it does make certain things easier. Shadow growls quietly as the mecha rolls past it silently, the husky�s shadow shifting on its own accord to chase the bike as it comes to a stop at my side.

�You know, that�s just freaky,� Amelia says, pointing at Sabre. She�s dressed in a red that is reminiscent of her old uniform and has pistols slung low on her hips.

�Don�t be jealous.� I flash her a grin, walking over to the bike. �You coming?�

�No. I�m just here to grab Aiden. There�s another meeting,� Amelia replies, and Aiden groans slightly.

�Offer�s still open,� I say.

�You know how people say they�d rather get shot at than do another meeting? That�s not me. Take me away, m�lady,� Aiden says as he walks over to Amelia quickly.

Ali, to punctuate the last of Aiden�s words, plays a series of drum beats.

Amelia�s eyes widen. �Is that�?�

I sigh. �Don�t ask.�

�No one appreciates me,� laments Ali as Lana beckons Shadow for her and Howard for Mikito to ride.

The moment the pair are on, they take off, and I gun Sabre to follow.

Whitehorse has changed somewhat since the apocalypse. On the surface, Downtown Whitehorse is much the same as it was before, 1960s-era two-to-three-story storefronts mixed with some early 1920s pioneer buildings. All but the single, ten-story silver building that dominates the middle of Main Street where Lord Roxley rules over us all. On cursory inspection, it seems the same. But we didn�t use to have weapon stores, armor stores, or alchemists. Our clothing stores didn�t prominently display the level of protection they provide against monsters. And let�s just say that the sashimi from the Japanese restaurant is now non-traditional and much more gamey.

The people are the most surprising change. Not that the city was ever that crowded, but now, the few who are on the streets have an edge you didn�t see in North America. At least, not in the nice parts of most cities. They have a certain wariness, an awareness of their surroundings from constantly looking around for threats, and the all-too-casual weapon check as they go about their daily business. Constant danger and the need to kill has given everyone a hard edge and a penchant for violence as their first solution.

The drive up Two Mile Hill is fast, since most vehicles are still owned by the hunters, who are all out. Ahead of us are the walls that block off the city, gleaming metal with a pair of vehicle gates and gun towers. Those are the visible defenses�hidden force fields and mines are just some of the less obvious safety measures. As we reach the gates, humans bearing futuristic beam rifles and old-school melee weapons mingle with dark-skinned, white-haired, pointed-eared Tuinnar guards, watching for the next swarm.

Once we�re out of the gates, the puppies pick up speed. In a few minutes, they swerve off the road and I hit a switch, making the bike jump. Another mental command and the bike switches, wheels rotating, and suddenly I�m hovering as the anti-gravity engines kick in. They�re not actually anti-gravity engines, but once again, my physics and engineering knowledge failed me when Ali tried to explain it.

Bikes are fun, but they aren�t particularly practical when the snow�s sitting at least three feet deep. Driving with the anti-gravity engines is interesting, but I�ve gotten quite used to it. A few minutes later, my Mana�s back to full, which is good�fighting a Boss without Mana is never a good idea. We move fast, cutting through the trees and leaving the few monsters that try to stop our group bleeding and dead behind us. Anna, who is strapped to Howard in a sling, yawns through most of it, barely shifting unless she is forced to throw a bolt of fire.

Our first major problem comes in the form of a large, humanoid white-furred creature.

Alpha Yeti (Boss) Level 48

HP: 7730/7730

A furry paw comes up, and the next thing we know, we�re hit by a blizzard that whites out the entire area. The vision assistance in my helmet tells me what my body has already let me know�the temperature�s dropping like a rock, crossing -40

within seconds. With a thought, Sabre comes apart, armored pieces sliding across my body even as the helmet keeps shifting vision options, trying to find something that can cut through the blizzard. It ends up on a hazy, weird mixture of thermal imaging and visual magnification which lets me see that the Yeti�s gone.

Crouching low, I snarl and look around even as Lana and Mikito get off the huskies. Mikito�s flipping the naginata in swirling patterns around her the moment she gets clear, ensuring that anything that tries to sneak up on her gets caught in it. Lana�s crouched, hair streaming out behind her as she cranes her head, turning occasionally at a new noise. Her pets spread out, encircling her in a defensive formation.

It�s a futile effort. Ice spikes erupt from the ground without warning, catching Howard on his back foot and spearing Lana directly in her stomach. The spike erupts out of her back, lifting her into the air and leaving her impaled, her scream of pain setting the huskies howling.

�ALI. Where is he?� I scream, rage coloring my vision.

�Give me a second, this blizzard is messing with my sensors,� the Spirit thinks back over our mental link.

Even my own ability to sense the monster is drawing a blank. I spin, searching as I edge toward the struggling Lana, but there�s nothing but the howl of the wind and the creaking of ice. Damn it, I should have thrown the Soul Shield on her immediately.

Instinct throws me sideways moments before more ice spears erupt from the ground. Superhuman reflexes and a hell of a lot of combat hours gets me most of the way out, my armor absorbing the glancing impact. Rolling, I come to my feet in the flattened snow and catch sight of Lana falling, the ice spear hacked apart. A second later, she�s got Elsa, her pet turtle, out of its carry-on and pointed. Elsa begins to breathe fire. Anna, released from Howard, heats up too, breaking formation as she dashes near trees and lights them on fire by sheer proximity.

I catch all this and the tail end of Mikito being hit by a four-foot-wide snowball that picks her up and sends her rolling down the hill like Wil. E. Coyote with a bad plan. I�d laugh, and I�m sure I will when I view the recordings later, but I�m still looking for our attacker.

�Got you!� Ali snarls.

Suddenly, there�s a yellow outline to my left. I raise the Inlin, barrel already spitting high-explosive death and tearing up the earth in gouts of flame. Surprisingly, Lana turns too, and I wonder if Ali�s sharing data now. Either way, blood blooms as explosive rounds impact, throwing the monster back.

Even as it falls, the Yeti raises its hand and a wall of ice appears, blocking our view. The fox darts in a wide circle while Lana points Elsa at the wall, burning it down. I run forward and jump above the melting wall, but the damn Yeti�s gone.

�Boy-o, every time it gets colder, the Yeti drops from my sense.�

Fine. I raise my hands, pointing in two different directions, and call forth my Fireball spell. It�s pretty much everything that you�d expect it to be�a ball of flame that explodes after a pre-determined distance. The fire melts snow, burns up the trees, and sets the Yeti alight, highlighting the monster for all our eyes. The puppies rush the monster, and Lana, dropping Elsa to the side, opens up with a beam pistol.

By the time Mikito gets back from rolling down the hill, the Yeti�s down and in a number of unappetizing pieces. Even on fire, it managed to spike Howard and Anna, but with all of us ganging up on it, the Boss doesn�t stand a chance. Somehow, the idea of dragging the remains back to the butchering yard seems wrong�whatever else it was, it fought smart. It might even have been somewhat sentient�and eating a sentient creature just seems wrong. Lana loots the body without a word, hunched over slightly as she walks back to me. I eye her injury, note that it seems to have stopped leaking blood, and leave it alone. The pain is real, but the System helps our bodies heal at an accelerated rate, which makes injuries transitory. Even if the mental scarring that might occur from getting ripped apart repeatedly isn�t. That�s why tanks are all just a little insane.

�Whitehorse?� I inquire, looking around.

�Let�s hunt. We�re out this far. The monsters are a decent level out here,� Lana says immediately.

I swear, it�s like I�ve warped back in time and replaced Lana with Mikito. She has the same desire to be in the wilderness, killing and killing and killing.

�Okay,� Mikito agrees of course. She might be on a more even keel, but that�s not to say Mikito�s ever going to turn down a chance to exact a little payback for her dead husband.

�Fine. You want to lead the way?� I gesture for Lana. I�m outvoted after all, and frankly, I�m not that interested in arguing for not killing monsters when we can. I can always use the experience and Credits.

Hunting over the next few hours is interesting. The monsters haven�t really settled down after the swarm, and even if we�re quite a distance out, the mix and numbers are just weird for the newly created zone. Good news is that the low-level monsters avoid us and vice versa. That leaves a wide mixture of more level-appropriate monsters, from Level 30 to 40 bumming around, attempting to get themselves sorted.

Anyone who has gone hunting or hell, even taken a walk in the woods would be very clear on the idea that you just don�t stumble over animals every few meters. Well, unless it�s a bunch of squirrels. The coming of the System altered that in a few ways.

Firstly, it evolved most creatures, so even insects and ants can sometimes be the size of a dog. Add in the fact that some of the trees have become deadly monsters and you can see how the population of �nasty things that want to eat me� have increased in the wilderness.

Secondly, the increase in Mana has actually increased fertility rates and growth rates for most creatures. While it doesn�t seem to have changed the incubation period for human women, we�ve certainly seen a spike in pregnancies�including among women who swear they�re on the pill or have been using other contraceptive methods. I recall lipreading a particularly gruesome conversation about an IUD that the nurse could no longer find no matter how hard they tried. Whitehorse has seen a large number of pregnancies, many of which have resulted in births with very few complications. This effect seems even more pronounced with the animals and monsters that lurk outside the city.

Thirdly, when the System builds up too high a level of Mana in any one zone and can�t locate an appropriate monster to dump the excess Mana into, it does one of two things. It either creates a new dungeon or it will �spawn� a new monster. Technically, the System uses the Mana buildup to teleport new monsters from another location in the System, often another Dungeon World, to the affected zone. It�s how some of the weirdest monsters we have have made an appearance.

And as any good biologist will tell you, an invasive species that doesn�t have a natural predator will grow unchecked more often than not. So what would be explosive growth anyway becomes a tsunami of monsters.

Lastly, Bosses are often Alpha monsters and their presence adds to the growth rates and strength of any group they lead. More often than not, a couple of unchecked Bosses are what triggers a swarm and why they�re the hunting target of choice. Of course, there�s some futility in all that�killing the Bosses doesn�t reduce the flow of Mana. It just means that the System ends up having to pick another method to control the Mana flow.

In fully transitioned Dungeon Worlds, Mana flows are much more stable. Zones and the monsters that live in each zone rarely shift as the Mana-soaked ecosystem stabilizes among a few dominant species. Swarms do happen but are much rarer because Adventurers and the local populace are out much more frequently and are more level appropriate, dealing with the monster buildups before they become an issue.

I end up thinking about all of this as I watch Mikito, Lana, and the puppies do most of the damage. I step in occasionally, but other than keeping Thousand Steps�a shared movement skill of mine�active, I�m somewhat superfluous. Until we hit something in the Level 60s, this pair can more than handle themselves. Even using Thousand Steps is a waste, other than as a small chance for me to train in its use. It doesn�t mean that I don�t have to occasionally kill a few monsters myself, mind you. Stupid levels of aggression are another System addition that results in the increase in danger while we�re hunting.

As I bend to loot another body, tossing the System-generated loot directly into my inventory without looking at it, I can�t help but take a look at the pair�s Levels again, studying them in more detail. It�s the first time I�ve done it in a while, and I have to say I�m slightly surprised by how much information Ali can display now.

Mikito Sato (Samurai Level 42)

HP: 590/590

MP: 250/250

Conditions: Thousand Steps, Hasted

Lana Pearson (Beast Tamer Level 40)

HP: 280/280

MP: 560/560

Conditions: Thousand Steps, Bestial Senses, Linked x 4

�That�s new,� I mutter, staring at the information display before glancing at Ali.

�Like it?� The Spirit floats over, waving, and suddenly all but the Hit Points disappear. �Could keep it simpler too.�

�Mixture maybe? Remove everything but the hit points in a fight? And maybe Mana. Though how accurate is that?� I frown.

Ali raises his hand, waggling his hands sideways. �So-so. Depends on whether they�ve got any counter-measures in place. Anyone playing at the higher levels will have purchased at least a minimum obfuscation package. Can�t pierce those just yet, not at my level. Hit Points are a lot easier to gauge.�

�Right, Hit Points only then. The Conditions might be good, Resistances would be better,� I add.

�I could pull those from the party sheet, but not for opponents. Not yet anyways,� Ali answers, shrugging. �Though I�ve got wider access to general monster databases now, so I�ll be able to provide that information if it becomes important.�

�Come on, we should catch up,� I say, realizing the pair has waded deeper into the group of half-horse, half-mantis armor-plated creatures. I can barely see them as they get swarmed, the pets and Mikito fighting to keep Lana safe in the center. I hit the group with Polar Zone, slowing everyone�including my friends. Truth is, a Fireball would have been the better choice, but something about getting toasted alive makes people grumpy.

Whine, whine, whine.

My sword glows red, the attack enhanced for a second by my Skill Cleave. It slices apart the hand-sized monster with ease, dropping separate pieces to the ground. I stomp on them before they can begin wiggling toward each other. Too small finally to reform, the Frazak Beast dies. Already, the ladies and Ali are swooping around, scooping up System-generated loot. We leave the bodies. I�m not sure even the hungry would want to eat the slimy, ectoplasmic remains of the Frazak. Definitely not carrying them back in my Altered Space.

�Well, that was weird,� I sigh and shake my head.

I step aside as a root from a nearby tree humps to the slime before it drains it from the ground at an astounding rate. Following the root back to the ash tree it originated from, I make a note of it for future reference. Might be that Sally, our resident gnome Alchemist, would want to know about it.

I�m silently grateful for the visual aid my helmet gives me. It�s still not as good as bright daylight, but between the automatic motion detection software, light enhancement, and infrared layering, it�s more than good enough to stay out here after sunset. Which is a good thing, considering how little daylight we�re getting as the solstice approaches. That being said�

�How are you ladies seeing?� I ask.

�Beast Master enhancement,� Lana replies, and I nod. Like her enhanced sense of smell and hearing, Lana seems to be picking up certain traits from her connection with her pets as she levels. Wonder if she�ll ever gain the ability to fly. Or a tail?

�Gene Therapy,� Mikito adds as she flicks her armor plate into bare space, the plate disappearing into thin air. Of course, I know she�s just putting it into inventory, but it does seem like magic.

Sometimes, I wonder how much of us is still human. Certainly, the things we can do, the changes made to and on our bodies, has shifted us far from baseline human. Add things like gene therapy, cyberware, and other enhancements and you have to wonder, are we even human anymore? The way we all handle pain and injury is so different�these days, safety standards are significantly laxer. Who cares if you break a bone if it heals within a few minutes? Even chopped off limbs can be regrown or replaced.

With a thought, my status information forms in front of me and once more I survey the �new� me.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1580

Stamina

1580

Mana

1220

Mana Regeneration

89 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

149

Constitution

158

Perception

Intelligence

122

Willpower

124

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Instantaneous Inventory*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Since the Onlivik Spore Dungeon, I picked up a few new toys for my combat arsenal. In particular, I upgraded some of my attacks and spells. The first new, out-of-Class Skill I purchased was an upgrade to Cleave. The nice thing about the upgrade is that while it only increases my basic strikes by another 25%, the Mana cost has stayed the same. It isn�t all-powerful, but it�s certainly a useful upgrade.

Elemental Strike gives me another way of layering damage. As monsters go up in levels, their resistances to basic damage increases, which means layering damage types becomes more and more important. Fire might be more generically popular, but the damn collateral damage of unchecked flames has a tendency to make me leery of using it too often. There are weirder elemental options, like radiation or darkness, but for now, I�ll stick to the traditional elements.

Lastly, I picked up a support Skill from the basic Erethran Guard tree. I really should have gone poking into their specialized Skill set beforehand, just to see what I had been missing out on, but I�d been lost in the shiny of the numerous other Skills available. While most of their Skills aren�t much better than what�s available to other Classes�or in a few cases, worse�Tech Link is particularly interesting. For each level, I can designate a specific tech and enhance its performance and connection to me. No surprise, but I designated both my Neural Link and Sabre. The boost in performance and my connection to Sabre was impressive, and given enough time and Levels, it could be a major game changer. Sadly, the next Level up is pretty expensive in the Shop.

To round out my purchases and my usefulness, I now have a more powerful healing spell and a Mana regeneration buff, both of which I figure will be useful for longer fights. I could do with a combat spell or two more, but the good stuff is extremely expensive. Better to save up the Credits for something great rather than a couple of goods.

I�ve been holding back on adding to my Class Skills with my free Skill Points. I�m still uncertain of which route to go down, and if at all possible, I want to save enough points so that when the third tier of my Skill Tree unlocks at Level 40, I can pick up a bunch of those Skills at once. Portal and Army of One look amazing, while Sanctum might make a huge difference one of these days. A skill that basically blocks every type of attack for a set time limit seems rather overpowered. Then again, I have a Skill that teleports people. If you look at it that way, there must be a bunch of Skills that teleport attacks past barriers. Heck, would a line of sight spell just require me to see them to cast?

That�s one of the problems about the way we get abilities and Skills through the System. We learn them instinctively, the same way we grow up knowing how to make our hearts beat. A purchased Skill just is�something you can use but not necessarily improve. Most people are happy with that, but then you hit questions like mine, where a better understanding of a spell and what it does would probably answer my question.

That�s the thing about the System. While I won�t say there�s a Dungeon Master or something out there balancing the System, with the sheer number of people, Skills, and abilities out there, it�s impossible to say that any single Skill, piece of equipment, or Class is the trump card to beat all trump cards. At least, none that I�ve come across yet.

When the ladies break off, heading for another set of tracks Lana has spotted, I tag along. The System continues to puzzle and infuriate me. It works incredibly well as a seamless integration that constantly enhances our bodies and lives. However, once you�re in, you�re in. Surviving the System and the Dungeon World without its benefits is impossible. On top of that, Classes, Skills, spells, all of those fade away the farther you are from the System Core. At the edges of System-occupied space, you can only rely on your existing Mana pools.

It�s why we never had various aliens visit us before our introduction to the System�no one wants to go from Superman to Clark Kent. Well, except for bad writers who have run out of stories to tell. If the System is Apple�industry leader but a closed ecosystem�then you�ve got to wonder about the Windows and Linux options out there and how to access them. Certainly, accessing methods of gaining power outside of the System would be heavily discouraged�if not potentially lethal.

As much as I have learnt about the System, I still have more questions. Each answer just generates more questions. I don�t have even the beginning of an explanation of why the System can so casually break the laws of physics and common sense. Nor do I know why the System was coded to create Dungeon Worlds on populated planets or why it automatically conscripts everyone. Sure, more people equals more loot which means more Credits and gear, but Credits seem like such a prosaic reason. At least when you�re talking about something that affects entire galaxies. Power and control make more sense, but it doesn�t explain the abilities and Classes that allow anyone to level. If you want to control the populace, you don�t hand out plutonium and a nuclear bomb DIY kit. It�s a puzzle and one that I�ve even got a Quest for.

The System Quest

You�ve begun to grasp the very edges of the meaning of the System. However, there is much more to learn with an uncertain reward at the end. Will you continue the journey?

The fact that hundreds of thousands of people have tried to complete the System Quest and failed is rather discouraging. The System Quest is also known as the Fool�s Quest among the Galactics. Hundreds, maybe even millions, of scholars, adventurers, and explorers have tried and failed over the years. Ali himself got exasperated with me when I started poking into it. Yet something in my gut tells me that the System Quest is the key to it all and that the more I understand the System, the more I�ll understand this insane world I live in.

Problem is, none of these musings are actually relevant to my day-to-day life. My current problem is the Duchess and whatever else she has planned for the city. I have to admit it grates on my nerves that my help was dismissed so casually, but in this, I have to trust Roxley. Unfortunately, it�s hard to do so when the man�s just too damn good-looking.

�Penny for your thoughts?� Lana says as she taps her foot and I realize I�ve been lagging again.

�Just thinking about Roxley,� I reply without thought. For a moment, I see a tightening in her eyes before she smiles.

�Enjoying the fact that your boyfriend�s back?� Lana says.

�Not my boyfriend. And no, not that. I�m wondering about the Duchess and Roxley and what�s the plan,� I say.

�Does it matter? They�re all the same,� Lana replies, her voice suddenly bitter. �We�re just pawns to them. Toys to play with and, when we�re broken, to be thrown away.�

�Lana�� I fall silent. I�m not even sure where to start. Truthfully, I sometimes have my doubts about the Tuinnar but� �Roxley�s better than most of the other options.�

She grunts, clearly irritated by my words, and looks away.

Mikito looks between us for a second before she spins her naginata to lop off a reaching vine. �It�s late. We should consider resting. Carcross is closer.�

I grunt, glancing at the minimap in the corner of my eyes. We�re actually not much closer to Carcross than Whitehorse. Carcross has the distinction of being the last existing human settlement outside of Whitehorse in the Yukon, even if it is barely more than a couple dozen buildings and a couple hundred people. Still, the town has well-defended walls and friends we haven�t seen in a while. If that�s the reason why Mikito wants us to go, I�m not complaining.

�Whatever,� Lana says dismissively. �Let�s just get this over with. There�s probably some decent hunting on the way there.�

�Just follow me, toots, I got this,� Ali says, waving us forward.

Well, I guess we�re headed to Carcross.

Chapter 3

It�s been nearly a month and a half since I�ve visited Carcross. I�ll admit, I�ve been concerned about Lana�s state of mind. Then of course, Roxley came back, and after that, the Kapre arrived and I decided to keep an eye on them, just in case. Trust but verify, you know. And well, time flies when your time is spent fighting and killing and training.

It�s no excuse, not really. I have friends here, survivors who have lost friends and family to the System and fought by my side through the worst of it. Then again, who hasn�t lost someone? I might not have seen my family�s bodies, but I checked with the Shop. It took me a long time to get the courage to do so, and sometimes, I wish I didn�t. The faint hope was comforting, like a child�s baby blanket. Having it ripped away made me want to scream and cry. Luckily, I channeled the grief into a more mature, considered response and went on a forty-eight-hour genocidal rampage outside of town with Lana and Mikito.

The party ends up coming toward the city at an angle and we have to skirt around the wall until we hit the gates. We could easily jump the fifteen-foot concrete barrier�the bigger problem is the automated defenses and the force field surrounding the town. As we traverse the edge of the wall in their clear zone, I can�t help but note the slightly scrunched up faces that peer down at us, most of them sporting a beard. Dwarves. Funnily enough, they�re pretty much everything you�d expect them to be�outside of the smithing thing. As I understand it, this is a small Clan who�s fallen on hard times, so their presence here is as much a matter of colonizing as guarding. Either way, their presence adds a seasoned, professional force to the civilian guards within Carcross. It was something they desperately needed when the swarms increased in intensity.

Surprisingly, the gates are open and we�re not the only ones arriving. A group of five, carrying an assortment of swords, guns, and bows, walk in ahead of us, towing a sled piled with corpses. None of the five look human, though three could pass if you squinted and ignored skin color, additional appendages, and frill. One looks very much like a traditional Klingon with a weird frill on its face and arms so thick around, you�d need a pair of hands to grasp them. A second is short at four and a half feet but makes up for its size with its additional four arms located in the center of its bulbous body. An extra pair of eyes stare at us from its torso, while the last humanoid creature is bright blue with scales all across its body. Mostly though, I�m staring at the spherical creature that totters above them on too-thin legs, four eyes rolling along tracks across its body. The humanoid velociraptor barely gets a glance after that.

The Dwarves on duty wave the Galactics in as a matter of routine before they turn back to their own conversations. They speak in a language that I don�t understand until Ali does his thing and the gibberish becomes English. In this case, they�re mostly discussing how pretty Mikito is, if a touch too tall for a proper Dwarf spouse.

�Oy. Stop staring like yokels,� Ali calls out to our group, and we start, realizing we�ve all come to a standstill in front of the gates.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see some of the Dwarves laughing at us. I growl slightly, and Mikito places a hand on my arm, shaking her head.

Right. Friendly territory. No starting fights.

�What the hell is going on?� I mutter as I gun the bike, drifting inward.

One of the Dwarves moves to cut me off and I shoot him a look that has him reaching for his weapon. Good sense prevails as one of the other Dwarves waves down the overeager bunny.

Inside, the town has grown. What used to be only a dozen or so buildings has sprawled with the addition of a baker�s dozen of new buildings, each of them at least four stories tall. Residences and stores seem to make up the most of them, with the new construction having that weird silvery sheen of default System-created construction. Right next to the city center, a large six-story building dwarfs the old log buildings. It�s this large building that the Galactics approach and enter with their kills.

As much as the layout of the city has changed, what�s more surprising is the mixture of individuals tramping around the town. While humans still dominate, clumps of aliens are easy to spot, none of them seeming to elicit even a nasty look from the locals. Considering one of them looks like a typical horned devil with tail, that�s pretty impressive.

�Huh. An official Guild house,� Ali says as the puppies come up next to me. I look at him, and he points at the big building the group went into. �Carcross managed to seal a deal with the Rolling Sea Guild. That�s where most of these Galactics are from.�

�You know that you�re just saying words right now, right?� I mutter, shaking my head. �Context, man.�

�Right, right. Ignorant human.� Ali rotates himself upside down while he continues to talk. �Guilds are like, well, guilds. Corporations, I guess, in your parlance. Just, you know, more individual? Anyway, powerful Guilds can rival countries in size and members. The Rolling Sea Guild is a Tier IV Adventuring Guild with about two thousand members and an average level of 36.7.�

All three of us stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

The annoying, shoulder-pad-dressed brown Spirit draws the silence out until I�m almost about to shout at him. �Adventuring Guilds are always looking for unexploited, unclaimed leveling zones. Finding one and getting the right to set up a guild hall here gives them a huge advantage.�

�Halls are limited?� Lana asks immediately, and Ali nods.

�Yup, by size and ranking of the safe zone. It�s why Carcross has one and Whitehorse doesn�t.�

I grunt, nodding slowly. Our lack of a safe zone arises from the fact that we�ve yet to exit Village stage, which is due to us not hitting the minimum threshold required to stabilize the Mana flows in Whitehorse. Carcross, being an initially smaller town, had fewer buildings to purchase, which gave them a significant advantage over Whitehorse.

�Adventuring Guilds build guild halls. Got it. What do they do?� I ask.

�A variety of things. Reduced teleportation costs for guild members between guild halls, access to guild storage, training halls for increased experience gain, and safe areas for rest are the main things. Guilds sometimes also have contracts with smaller Shops, which set up physical stores in their halls, letting them bypass the System Shop,� Ali answers.

�Let me get this straight. Carcross made a deal with this guild to use their only?� At Ali�s nod, I continue with more confidence. �Only guild hall space for them. They provide additional defense and, of course, killing of monsters. That sound about right?�

�Pretty much, boy-o.�

�That just sounds like they�ve painted a target on their back,� I mutter.

�Just about,� Ali confirms.

Mikito looks puzzled and Lana�s face is blank, so I fill them in. I guess they don�t have as much experience with Galactic politics as I do. �The other guilds aren�t going to like it because it means the Rollers will get more powerful if they aren�t kept in check. That means they�ll likely take steps to hurt both Carcross and the Rollers. Ali, they must have known that was going to happen.�

�Of course. Best guess? They�re gambling. Just like Roxley. If they can hang on long enough to power up their people and the city, they�ll be able to get to the next tier and upgrade themselves again. If they can keep upgrading, everyone who might want a place this small will be left in the dust. And the bigger fish will be angling for Whitehorse rather than Carcross.�

�And if they fail?� Lana asks, her brows drawn together.

�Then they might die. At the very least, they�ll lose a lot of prestige and Credits.�

�I meant the city.�

�Same thing.� Ali shrugs disinterestedly.

�Dangerous,� I say, and Mikito nods. Still, I can see why the Carcross City Council did it. They couldn�t hold the town, not with the few hunters they have left. Even with the Dwarven clan, the number of swarms must have been pressuring them significantly. And if you�re refusing to leave, then better to act�however bad it might be in the future�than sit around doing nothing.

Still, the guild presence here explains why the monster numbers around the city were lower than we expected. It also explains why I haven�t been getting subtle suggestions from Jason or the Elder to come visit. The Carcross City Council might not even want us here�I�m not entirely sure Roxley will be happy with this development. That being said, the Tuinnar might already know about this.

�Well, are we going to say hi or not?� Lana finally says, pointing forward.

I open my mouth then shut it with a snap. She�s right. We�re here, so we might as well say hi and get something to drink. Whatever decisions they�ve made, it�s done and over with. Time to see some old friends.

�Jason. Rachel,� I greet the pair when we finally track them down.

Surprisingly, they�re in a rather spacious condo on the top floor of one of the new buildings. Inside, floor-to-ceiling windows give us a nearly complete view of the walls. A good thing too, considering Jason is the town�s most powerful Mage and Rachel�s only a short hop behind him. The wiry teenager is grinning with an arm around his First Nation girlfriend as he waits for us to troop in and take off our shoes.

Surprisingly�and thankfully�when we poked our heads into the City Center, Elder Badger was out, resting. It wasn�t uncommon to find her working late into the evenings before, so it�s obvious that the new additions to the city seem to have taken some of the burden off her. Even with our boosted Constitutions, most of us needed at least a few hours of sleep a day to reset our brains and not completely crash.

Not finding the Elder meant that our next stop was locating Jason and Rachel. Being the local celebrity he is, that wasn�t difficult.

From the way Jason is holding his robe closed, I�m assuming we interrupted some naughty time. Either that or he likes to sleep in his boxers. Idly, I check him out. He�s filled out even more, leaving behind the scrawny teenager I once knew. He�s no gym rat, but he doesn�t look as though he�d get blown away by a stiff wind either.

Rachel, on the other hand, looks, well, older. The sixteen-year-old teenage girl has matured, her face slightly chubbier with new bags under her eyes. There�s no bounce in her step, and there are new lines on her face as she clings to Jason�s arm. The scars from losing first her village then most of her team seem to linger, and the once-tough teen seems more fragile, more prone to shatter.

�You do know it�s, like, eleven, right?� Jason grumbles good-naturedly as he plops himself into a chair, Rachel curling up in his arms immediately.

�Yeah, yeah. We can leave if you want.� I turn, and he flicks a glowing blue ball at my head that shocks me ever so slightly.

�What John is trying to say is it�s good to see you too.� Lana sits next to the pair on the spare space on the couch. �How are you two doing?�

�Not bad. Things have been pretty good actually, ever since the Guild came. You saw, right?� Jason waves in the general direction of the city.

�Hard to miss,� Ali says.

�How is that going?� I ask.

�Mike�s been grumbling a bit, but they�ve been a real help, you know?� Jason answers.

I nod slightly. I�m sure Gadsby�s grumbling is the same as Andrea�s. Both the ex-RCMP members have a long list of complaints about civilians wandering around with the ability to destroy houses in their fingers. I know the pair spend long hours talking about ways to reconcile Canadian and Galactic laws. Personally, I think they�re wasting a lot of effort, but no one�s asking me.

As Jason and I chat, Lana murmurs something to Rachel, who shakes her head.

�Right. Girl talk time. You boys get out,� Lana abruptly announces, pointing at us.

�Huh?�

�Out,� Lana repeats.

Jason lets out a sigh, pulling his hand away from Rachel, who squeezes it for a second before finally releasing him, and beckons me to follow. A short jaunt later, we�re out of the walls and wandering the night-time woods, idly patrolling for potential monsters. Jason calls up a series of bright yellow-green lights that hover around him and attack threats without warning as we walk. One thing Carcross still doesn�t have is a bar�the Elder�s insistence of keeping the place �dry� seems to hold, even with the new Guild in place. Understandable, even if annoying.

I finally break the silence as the smell of roasting owl assaults my nose. �What was that about?�

�Ah. Well. That. I�m going to be a father,� Jason says. �Thought we had that covered�literally�but��

�Yeah, we worked that one out from Richard�s�� Exploits. I never finish the sentence though, the memory of the friend we�ve lost darkening the conversation.

�Seems self-defeating. The Shop sells alterations that let you neuter yourself, but it constantly breaks down. I�ve even heard of some women, older women, umm�� Jason stutters, blushing.

�Older women�? Having sex?� I tease. �You know, older people are humans too.�

He glares at me even as the redness in his face grows. �Menstrual cycle reversing.�

�You mean meno-pause becoming meno-start?� Ali says, cackling.

I glare at the Spirit. �Don�t make me banish you.�

�Yeah, that.� Jason brushes at his face, pushing up non-existent glasses. He tilts his head and waves, refreshing his attack spell in a casual display of power.

�Cute spell. They look like guided Mana Bolts sort of.�

Jason nods. �Tinkered with the formula a bit.� As a bolt slams into a nearby tree and then another and then another, he sighs and recasts the spell. �Of course, it�s still a work in progress.�

�Uh huh. Think the tree�s dead.�

In the back of my mind, I�m thinking about what he said about the Shop. The way it keeps regenerating people, fixing them, even reversing old biology. As if it�s attempting to increase our population whether we want it to or not. Almost like a self-replicating virus, continuously infecting host computers every time it can, searching for flaws in the operating system and copying itself into new storage devices. Except in this case, it�s attempting to create the computers it needs to use.

System Quest Update (+500 XP)

The System continually replicates itself, creating new host bodies. Why would it do that?

Really? A quest update over that? I shake my head, dismissing the notification as I glance at Ali, who is busy bopping the Mana Darts with his finger. Now why the hell would I get that?

�Congratulations, by the way,� I add belatedly.

�Thanks,� Jason answers, his face growing serious.

Right, he�s still a kid himself, and being a dad this young can�t be easy. For a moment, I wonder what education will be like in this world. After all, purchasing skills for things like basic mathematics, science, and other social sciences isn�t that expensive in the System. Why bother with formal schooling? Would schools in the future involve combat and Skill applications rather than classes on physics and English? Or would we continue with the old traditions since then we�d at least know they understood the basics. Really understood them.

�So tell me about the spell. Maybe I can learn something,� I ask.

Jason brightens up as he explains what he did. Distractions. Always useful.

A couple of hours and circuits around the town to the river and back later, a pair of cloaked figures fade into sight in front of us. It�s slow and gentle enough that it doesn�t trigger an automatic attack from Jason�s spell or myself. The first of the newcomers is a semi-transparent humanoid that floats, clad in tight leather that leaves little to the imagination. I find myself staring at its groin, the pair of cylinders that jut out fascinating in a disturbing way. Looking away from him (it?), its humanoid friend has four arms, its skin a yellow-green metallic sheen. Instead of a head, it has a variety of tubular connections with shining lights.

Eilon Lindrak (Level 7 Eldritch Knight)

HP: 1530/1530

MP: 320/320

Conditions: Insubstantial

Ixlimin Ldrik (Level 49 Mecaniservant)

HP: 570/570

MP: 740/740

Conditions: None

�You are not on the patrol schedule today, Jason,� Ixlimin speaks. His voice sounds canned and just a little too high, the noise setting my teeth on edge.

�Boy-o, the Knight�s an Advanced Class, by the way,� Ali mutters.

I blink, staring at the pair. Jesus, it�d be nice if there was a way to tell a bit easier. Then again, Squire, Knight� I guess that works.

�Just out for a walk with a friend,� Jason replies, his body angled slightly away from them.

�Who is your friend?� Ixlimin says, and again, I feel my body tensing. It�s the kind of voice you�d hear if you watched a bad 80s science-fiction movie filled with evil AIs and robots.

�Don�t say it. The walking blender already knows,� Ali says, glaring at Ixlimin.

�A Spirit Companion. How novel,� Ixlimin says, staring at Ali.

Ali glares back, his eyes narrowing, and an uncomfortable silence falls as the pair stare at each other.

�So�� I add a smile. �I�m John Lee.�

Thank the gods the language purchases include body language so they know what I mean when I smile. Otherwise, who knows�I might be challenging them to an eating contest.

�You are from Whitehorse,� Eilon states, and I nod. �Has the city achieved its next rank yet?�

�No.� As far as I know, the only thing holding us back is the lack of purchased spaces. We�re actually pretty close now, and once that�s done, I�m sure we�ll rank up. After all, Carcross did.

�Aaargh!� Ali shouts, glaring at Ixlimin, and I reach sideways. Jason shoots a look between us, his hand curling up slightly while Ixlimin stands there smiling. �You damn blender!�

�What�s going on, Ali?� I ask tensely. I really don�t want to try fighting these two. No guarantee that Jason will back me up and together, they might be really pushing things for me.

�Freaking blender�s a M453-X. They�re sort of like the Spores�shared central consciousness through data uploads. I was trying to figure out if the computer here had a connection. He blocked me. And stole some information about you,� Ali said tensely.

�Stole?� I growl softly.

�An exaggeration of facts. Your Spirit is lax and dropped his defenses while he assaulted my data sectors. Certain information leaked,� Ixlimin says. �My system, I am programmed to acquire information. Any information.�

�So you grabbed what you found?�

�Yes.�

�And now you�ve uploaded it to this shared database?�

�No,� Ixlimin says, his voice still flat and toneless. �I have yet to earn the necessary uploading privileges. Direct upload is reserved for those Rank III and above.�

�You guys rank yourself?� I tilt my head, curious about the robot. Android? Cyborg? I�m not entirely sure. I�ll have to clarify with Ali later.

�The Program has grown such that individuals must be ranked. It is the only logical option to ensure the optimal in-flow of information. My reports are still provided on a regular basis, but it has been determined that those below Rank III have insufficiently important information to require the burden on resources a direct connection would accrue,� Ixlimin replies.

�Thanks. You�re being quite helpful here,� I say, glancing at Ali, who still seethes with a rather constipated expression on his face. �You�re being quiet.�

�Updating my firewalls. Bastard cut through my base ones like butter,� Ali thinks back at me. �Don�t trust him. The Ixlimin are like your Borg. Or maybe Mormons might be a better fit. Unrelenting in their goal of expanding the Program. If it weren�t for the System�s interference in their Program, they�d probably be running around in giant cubes.�

�It has been decided that providing clear, concise information about the Program when asked is the most efficient method of removing concerns about our goals,� Ixlimin says.

�And that�s when I say enough,� Eilon adds, holding up a hand. �If I let him, Ixlimin will talk your ear off about the Program and we�re still on patrol. Not that there�s been much to do.�

�Noticed that. You guys didn�t get hit much by the Swarm, did you?� I ask.

�No, passed us by. We tracked it on the scanners, but outside of a few outliers, the general level around Carcross is too high to be affected. Yet,� Eilon says, then adds, �Peace out.�

�Did he just say what he said?�

�Translation error. The Eilon have a somewhat similar saying, just without the hippie connotations. Properly translated, it�d be �May the rains of peace fall and the winds of war blow past till our next meeting�,� Ali helpfully says, and I nod slightly.

�Peace out,� I repeat, smiling slightly. Well, when in Rome.

Jason, of course, stares at me as the pair leave, but I give him a grin. When they�re gone, I prod him to get back to teaching since he doesn�t seem inclined to talk about his feelings.

The next time we see the girls awake, it�s morning and Lana�s hogging the bathroom. Thankfully, the Clean spell works just as well for our purpose, so Jason and I end up doing the cooking for breakfast. The sheer volume of food we need to feed five Adventurers with enhanced metabolisms is staggering�we probably could have fed a few Sumo wrestlers in the meantime. Amusingly enough, Jason has a Skill that allows him to throw together our breakfast extra fast, which relegates me to doing prep work. I�m okay with that�my cooking is, as best, edible.

When Lana finally makes her way out of the bathroom, Mikito steps in from the balcony, where she�s been running through her forms. I�m amazed she manages to swing her polearm on the tiny balcony and not destroy anything, but I guess that�s why she�s a master martial artist and I�m just a hack with a pointy piece of metal. I try not to be too bitter about it�it�s not as if I haven�t gotten a lot better in the last few months, especially for a rank beginner. Between her lessons and Roxley�s, I�ve even gotten a veneer of skill. Doesn�t hurt that the System seems to boost my understanding of what I need to do whether or not I want it to.

Frankly, the sheer amount of changes the System makes on both a physical, mental, and somewhat social level is frightening. While the exact changes might not be as bad as the numbers on our stat sheets make it seem, it�s still clear that the System is reaching right into us and making changes on a daily basis. If I were a spiritual man, I might even be a bit afraid for my soul. I know that the churches and the remaining spiritual figures in town have been somewhat stretched in explaining both the System and the apocalypse. I don�t envy them that. I wonder how many have done the spiritual equivalent of sticking their fingers in their ears and going �na-na-na-nah�?

�Earth to tall, dumb, and brooding,� Ali says as he buzzes in front of me.

I blink, realizing I�ve gotten lost in my thoughts once again. It�s a bit of a worrying habit, one that I used to do a lot of pre-apocalypse. Mostly when I was under a lot of stress at work or avoiding thinking about uncomfortable facts�like the amount of time my now-ex spent on the phone with her �friend� in Whitehorse. I haven�t done that in ages, so finding myself doing so again is a bit concerning.

�Sorry.� I wave guiltily and look around. �I miss anything?�

�Just a discussion of what we�re going to do. We can sell our loot and the bodies in Carcross at the Guild. It will work out to be a minor loss in most cases and a decent gain in others. If we do that, we can hit the nearby mountain range and go hunting for something more Level appropriate,� Mikito says.

I grunt and look at Lana, who nods firmly. I�m not thrilled with the idea of running around killing even more monsters for the heck of it, but it does need to be done and we might find something interesting. Maybe a Dungeon or two.

�Coming?� I ask Jason. I know from our talks last night he�s been raring to do a bit more challenging hunting. I wasn�t so horrible of a friend to not actually chat about things he might need or want.

�Can�t. I have a couple of meetings today. Andrea wants to go over the development plans for the city, see if we can chart out the best upgrades to buy,� Jason says.

�Huh.� I rub my chin before shrugging. Teaches him to volunteer the fact that he was a huge gamer beforehand. Now that the world plays similar to some of our old computer games, figuring out how to streamline your development options is something he�d be pretty good at. Even if he does need to be reminded once in a while that his choices have real-world consequences. The optimal route might not be the best route, not when there aren�t any extra lives or game restarts. �Your loss. We�ll hit the Guild then and get hunting.�

I wish I could say the Guild was mind-blowingly awesome, a mixture of the streets in Harry Potter and Valerian�s floating alien city. Instead, it�s more akin to visiting a pawnshop. We dump our stock, there�s a brief argument between the counter attendant and Ali, and we�re on our way. The Shop when I first visited it, with its holographic walls, modern furniture, and glowing blue screens, was a lot closer to a science fiction shopping experience than this.

On the road again, the puppies take off at a speed I�m hard-pressed to keep up with, even with Sabre in mecha mode. We head toward Tagish, starting on the highway but quickly enough diverting into the tree line and the mountainside. Lana and Ali converse together at the front, using the extended senses of the puppies and Ali�s direct link into the System�s backend to hunt down threats for us.

It�s the usual plethora of the weird and nasty. Mutated Earth animals like an Arctic Fox or a Snow Owl, both of which wield impressive control over the lower end of the temperature spectrum. An Ice Bear that is busy freezing trees then eating them as popsicles. And then of course there�re the aliens. Elemental Salamanders whose bodies are so transparent, you can see the light blue lines of frozen blood that pump in greater haste as they throw icicles at us. Fluffy Snow Elementals that refuse to die no matter how many times we cut them, till we figure out it is their core we need to shatter. A flock of Crystal Birds that kamikaze us as they dive, shattering on our bodies before reforming and flying again, ever smaller till they finally can�t reform anymore.

Post-apocalypse Earth is filled with the weird and dangerous, and our job is to kill them all. I find myself tossing Fireballs and Mana Darts constantly, rotating between the two spells because it�s easier than cutting apart most of these creatures. I almost regret not purchasing a damn flamethrower for Sabre, until I remember that burning down forests is one of the things we�re desperately trying not to do before the onset of winter.

Still would be useful right now.

Fighting monsters in their mid-40s to low 50s means I�m not bored anymore, that I have to focus and pay attention and do damage. It�s not thrilling, not �flying by the seat of your pants and make a mistake and die� fighting, but it�s better. I�m awake again, focused. Kind of worrying that I�ve been getting a bit jaded with fighting for my life.

Our trip takes us up, up toward the top of the mountain ranges, and on a whim more than practical sense, it seems, we find ourselves climbing to the top of the range. A hike that should have taken us hours and left us winded, we finish in an hour and a bit and only because we have to stop and kill more monsters. There aren�t many up here, so we mostly just run, jump, and bounce our way up.

For a time, we stand and survey the lands around us. The snow-covered forests look so pristine and peaceful from a distance. A winding river, portions of it iced over, and frozen lakes, many of which look no different than the ground surrounding them but for a minor depression spread out before us as we relax. The skies are mostly clear, outside of a few flying gryphons and silver-colored avians. Oh, and the Dragon.

�Dragon!� I hiss, ducking and cursing.

It�s a hell of a distance away, so far that it�s mostly a dive-bombing speck, but there�s no such thing as far enough away when it comes to those creatures. The last thing we want to do is have it notice us and lead it back to our home. Bringing burning death to towns is bad. Lana and Mikito drop too, hunkering down low to the ground, and Ali stops hovering.

Dragons come in variations�from the almost-Dragons of Drakes and Wyrms to full-on, fire-breathing flying monsters of legend. Thus far, the ones we�ve spotted look like a cross between a Chinese Dragon and your typical western one with a long serpent body with giant wings that lift the creature. Real Dragons start at Level 100 for the juveniles, and an elder Dragon can easily cross Level 300. Ali once told me a story of Praxard, one of seven legendary Dragons that had been attacked by the Empire of Kingul. In retaliation for the attack, Praxard decided to destroy Morix IV, a sparsely populated planet that had just reached stage two of its terraforming under the aegis of the Empire. It had taken Praxard four hours to do the job.

Thankfully, Dragons seem to run by the manliest of reptile codes and don�t band together or support one another. It�s probably the only reason why they haven�t overrun everyone else and become the de facto rulers of everything. I sometimes regret not taking the Dragon Knight class when I had the option. When it comes down to one-on-one battle prowess, their Class Skills are significantly more powerful than the Erethran Honor Guards. Even if the Dragon Knights mostly fight lesser versions of the Dragons on their home world, they still kick ass.

�What is it doing?� Lana mutters, staring into the distance.

Vision magnified as much as possible, I watch as the Dragon swoops down again, breathing a spray of white smoke that dissipates quickly. Humanoid figures freeze in their tracks as the smoke touches them.

�Picking up a meal�� I mutter, watching as the Dragon wheels back casually and picks up a pair of the humanoid popsicles before winging away. As its wings beat, I note how the trees only seem to reach the humanoids� chests. Chest-high trees, big Dragon� �Those are Giants!�

�Frost Giants. Must be a clan that moved in recently. Average height of about forty feet,� Ali adds.

Mikito�s squinting, probably watching it all through the contact lenses she�s purchased.

�Is it carrying the Giants off in its feet? Like a raven with a ground squirrel?� Lana says, unable to pick out details like we can. Even her Skill-enhanced eyes are unable to keep up with our technological tools.

�Yes,� Mikito says, her face pale.

I�m probably not looking too good either. That Dragon must be enormous.

�Let�s not fight that one,� I say, and there are rapid nods from all around.

We wait and watch as the Dragon wings away, never once glancing our way. In fact, it barely seems to pay attention to anything around it, arrogantly flying back to its nest. Then again, I can�t think of anything that could hurt it.

�Ali, is it headed back to Kluane?�

�Yes. The icefields down that way are probably its nesting grounds. My guess, it�s taken Mount Seymour as its home. Biggest icefields, tallest mountain, deepest inflow of Mana. Dragons are arrogant like that.�

�Not sure it�s arrogance when it can back it up.�

�Point, boy-o, point.�

When the Dragon is no more than a speck, we scurry down from the mountain, tails between our legs. Literally in the puppies� cases. Our hunting is more subdued and focused, all of us probably thinking the same thought.

We�ve got a long way to go.

Chapter 4

By common consensus, we spend the next few days working from Carcross, hunting and killing in the higher-level zones that dot the surroundings. After our distant encounter with the Dragon, the rest of our hunting trips are routine. Lots of blood and violence, lots of monsters killed and looted, and even the occasional injury, but nothing surprising. I�ll admit, I get bored once again and start testing out new fighting techniques in the middle of battle just to liven things up. Forming a sword and kicking it straight through a monster is a lot more difficult than it looks in the animes.

Eventually, Rachel and Jason�s subtle hints that they�d like their home back stop being subtle. Surprisingly, now that we�re out of Whitehorse, Lana seems intent on not going back, at times almost rudely ignoring the couple. I have to admit, I�m getting a little antsy myself, considering what might be coming down the road for Whitehorse. In the end, it�s a message passed on through the Carcross City Council that gets us moving�a new, high-level dungeon has been found.

The moment we get the notice, we dump most of the extra loot that we�ve been keeping for sale in Whitehorse�s Shop with the Guild. There�s no point�the single monster they located in the dungeon was level 55, so if we survive, the dungeon will give us better loot overall. Theoretically we could swing by Whitehorse, but Lana�s insistent that we just do the dungeon. We acquiesce to her request and head straight for the coordinates, a hacked-together job of old GPS data and map coordinates that, thankfully, everyone with System access can figure out.

Up a mountain and around a series of trees, we�re greeted by an interesting sight. A quintet of muscular humanoid bulls clad in white, modern battle armor stand opposite another group of humans. Even from a distance, the tension between the groups crackles in the air. No surprise�Bill�s party has been one of the most outspoken against the Yerick.

�Capstan, Nelia, Aron,� I call out a greeting to the three Yerick I know.

The other two are known, but I can�t recall their names. I mean, I could look it up and read it off their nameplates and I do, but within moments, I�ve blanked again. You�d think that all the points I have in Intelligence would have made things like that easy to remember, but it might have as much to do with what I consider important or not. Their names, thus far, don�t register on any scale. Funny thing is, the Yerick might look like minotaurs from Greek legends, but I don�t think anyone ever envisioned an anatomically correct female minotaur. Not that you can really tell with Nelia, but could you imagine Greek statues of that?

Even as I muse on stupid things like that, I let my gaze roam over their group, noting a decent increase in Levels since the last time we fought together. That thought makes me look at Lana who, even with her face mostly hidden by Howard�s fur, is showing conflicting emotions.

�Redeemer,� Capstan rumbles, his voice like stones grating together. The leader of the Yerick towers over his group. �Are we all here?�

�I think so. Bill.� I tilt my head toward the leader of the other group.

Outside of ours, Bill�s group holds the highest number of high-Level humans in Whitehorse, so it�s not surprising that he�s here. Especially for an unknown, high-level dungeon. We might not see eye to eye on many things, but after our time in the Spore dungeon, we�ve gotten along better. Fighting beside someone has a tendency to do that. I�m also not surprised he didn�t tell the council to bugger off. The experience bonus from completion alone is hard to turn down. My eyes rake over his group, studiously ignoring Luthien, my ex, and noting that Kevin, the son of a bitch she cheated on me with, isn�t around.

Bill Cross (Level 7 Clipper)

HP: 1660/1660

MP: 930/930

Luthien Celbrindal (Level 47 Sorceress)

HP: 680/680

MP: 2,300/2,300

Damn. He�s gotten an Advanced Class now. I�m really curious about what the experience was like, but I�m even more curious about his actual Class title.

�You a barber now?� I ask Bill, who frowns at me then laughs, shaking his head.

�You can read Classes,� Bill says.

�It�s a cheapish purchase in the Shop,� I answer. Evasive, but truthful.

�It�s just the term the System gave my class,� Bill says.

�Any useful Class Skills?� I ask.

Bill shrugs with a half-smile. �I didn�t realize we were at that point.�

�Har. You�ve seen my tricks,� I say. �And you never know what might be needed in the dungeon.�

�No group Skills. I can layer damage on a single target significantly, and I have a �go away� Skill now. It pushes back attackers. The rest are just Resistances,� Bill says, and I nod in thanks. �You?�

�Not much new. More spells�Fireball you might see more of if it�s not too tight in there. Otherwise, I can switch between playing defense or offense pretty fast.�

Bill nods then glances at the Yerick, his lips twisting wryly. �Well, I think they�ve got defense sewn up pretty well. Might not like them, but they�re tough fuckers. As we know.�

�Capstan especially,� I say. Tension or not, we�ve had to work together often enough that when the blood meets the blade, we�re all professional.

�I don�t think I ever told you, but I�m sorry to hear about Richard. I liked him,� Bill says, nodding toward Lana. �I tried to tell her but� well��

�She thinks you�re an exploitive asshole.�

�And I think she�s a close-minded dreamer,� Bill says. �I�m just filling a need.�

I shake my head, glancing around. Not the time to get into this.

�Ingrid.� I nod at the assassin/rogue-Classed individual as my eyes finally find her.

It�s only because I�m watching for it that I note when my eyes skip over the raven-haired woman who stands to Bill�s left. She�s listened to every single bit of our conversation, unlike Luthien, who moved away. I still owe Ingrid for her part in keeping me alive during the last dungeon run.

�So who�s leading?� Bill says, having noticed my desire to not engage further.

�Capstan?�

�I believe my group is most suited to this, Redeemer,� Capstan rumbles, having heard us.

Bill looks dissatisfied for a second before he waves dismissively.

�Drones first though,� I say and hold out a hand, pulling them from my inventory. I throw the three I own into the sky and send them to scout ahead with a thought.

I�d send Ali too, but without entering the dungeon myself, he�s stuck out here. And even in the dungeon, he�s going to be tethered a lot closer than normal. The higher the Mana density, the closer he has to be to me; otherwise he�d be banished. Thus far, I haven�t figured out if there�s anything that can actually kill him, but Ali�s hinted that the process of being banished and summoned is actually quite painful.

While my drones are working on getting us a map, Lana moves over to speak with Capstan, getting a briefing on the kinds of monsters we might meet. Rather than get my information secondhand, I focus on the images the drones are sending back. I get about a hundred feet in before the Mana interference cuts in and I lose my connection. After that, all I can do is wait for the on-board programs to bring back the drones, hopefully undamaged.

�You know, most people don�t even see me when I don�t want them to,� Ingrid says when I finally stop staring at my screens.

I�ll admit it, I jumped a little and was in the process of calling my sword to me when I realized who it was. I glare at the raven-haired woman, and she smirks at me.

Yes. Smirks.

Ingrid Starling (??? Level ???)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

�That�s a good way of getting stabbed, you know,� I grouse at her, absently noting that Ali still can�t pull up information on her in the System.

She laughs. Ingrid�s got a good laugh, one of those infectious ones that makes other people want to join in. Of course, she�s laughing at me, so I�m a little less likely to laugh with her but still, good laugh. �As if you could hit me.�

�You�re not that fast,� I point out, and she smirks again.

�And you�re not that good.�

�Uh huh.� I find myself getting grumpy, so I force myself to draw a deep breath. �You know, I�m actually working here.�

�No, you�re not. You�re waiting for the drones to get back. Right now, you�re just like the rest of us, waiting around with a stick up your butt. So, you going to share?� Ingrid asks.

At my frown, she points at my right hand. I look down and blink, seeing the bar of chocolate in it. I hand it to her without a word, pulling another for myself from my inventory.

�Think it�ll be as bad as our first?� Ingrid says around the chocolate bar that�s in her mouth.

�Our first?� I smile slightly, shaking my head. �Sounds improper the way you say it.�

�Down, boy,� Ingrid says.

Before I can say anything else, I find myself distracted, the feeds from the drones flickering to life. The download comes soon after, and I�m lost in reviewing everything I can about the dungeon. Long minutes of footage and radar readings give us a floor plan, but no sign of the monsters that reside in the cave. I flip through infrared then enhanced imaging and find nothing. It�s only when I go into watching in ultraviolet that the monsters jump out. I hiss, the sparking and jumping from the creatures a dead giveaway of the kind of trouble we�re going to see.

�That monster you fought, Capstan. It use any special powers?� I ask.

�None. Other than its ability to camouflage itself, it showed no additional abilities,� the Yerick answers.

�All right then.� I sigh and wave my hands.

Ali sends the information to everyone, both the incomplete map and the pictures we�ve taken. While everyone�s busy looking it over, I take to storing my drones.

�What are these white sparks?� Bill says, frowning.

�You�re looking at everything in enhanced visioning with ultraviolet light layering from the drones. The flashing white sparks come from the ultraviolet light that the monsters are giving off,� I answer.

It�s Mikito who gets it first, probably because she uses her lenses almost continuously. �Electricity. You think they might wield electricity.�

�Yes. No reason for the sparks to jump unless they�ve got a huge current running through them.� I glance into the ice cave with its hanging icicles. Outside of fire, lightning works well at killing. And it�ll avoid doing any significant damage to the ice cave itself.

�It makes no difference,� Capstan says, waving his group forward. �We shall kill them as they come.�

Nelia walks behind him, raising her staff and whispering words under her breath as she casts some support spells. Hopefully she as an electrical resistance one in there.

�Ali, anything you can do? Maybe layer your Elemental Affinity on us?�

�Sure. But I can only do it for four. That�s you, Lana, and Mikito. Who�s the last? That tall drink of darkness? Or your furry friend?�

�The healer. Always the healer, asshole.�

Even after my admonishment, I hear Ali chuckling. However, he�s also slowly extending his gift, layering a shield around the four of us. Between my Class abilities, Sabre�s armored resistances, and Ali�s gift, I should be pretty immune to anything those monsters can throw. I almost offer to go ahead, but keep my mouth shut at the last instant. Bull-headed is both a literal and figurative appellation for Capstan�if he says they�re going in first, they�re going in first.

Caves are, by their very nature, temperature-controlled habitats. Stepping in from the -30�C should make the cave feel warm, even if it�s filled with ice. Instead, the temperature drops again, and the humans who still have skin exposed hiss at the sudden cold. Everyone slaps, twists, and otherwise commands their body armor and clothing to seal off completely, removing bare flesh from sub-arctic air. Everyone except for Ali, of course, who decides to change into a speedo.

�No one needs to see that,� Lana says.

Luthien raises a slim hand and throws a glowing blue spell at Ali, one that the Spirit actually bothers to dodge. Mana-based spells will hurt anything, even Spirits who aren�t fully in our dimension.

Capstan and the rest of the Yerick ignore the byplay, stalking deeper into the dungeon, firing small glow-balls into the ceiling periodically to light up the area. Most of us have one form or another of enhanced vision, but it�s always a decent idea to light up your surroundings when you can. Never know what kind of spell or damage you might take.

A trio of monsters surge out of hiding from behind a stalagmite icicle, their low-slung webbed feet contrasting to the humongous heads and thick tails they use to attack. Pure white, with just the barest edging of crystal blue on their scales, the monsters look like a prehistoric version of a crocodile and are about thrice as mean. Capstan catches the first on his axe, his blade crushing and tearing apart scales before sliding off while the second clamps its mouth around his leg. It rears backward and throws the large Yerick aside while the last neocroc rushes Aaron. Aaron hops backward, dodging the snap by millimeters while firing his pistol from his hip, each bullet opening bleeding wounds on the monster.

Their initial attack over, Nelia has her hands in the air as she finishes her spell and glowing green lines spring into existence, trapping two of the monsters and locking them into place. Now that the combatants are mostly out of melee range, the rest of us open up on the trapped pair while Aaron duels with his own monster, straight-arming and kicking it before firing at it again and again. Unlike what anime and other TV shows might show you, it�s really a bad idea to shoot into a melee fight if you don�t have a choice. You never know who will jinx when they should have juxed.

I layer shots on the trapped and trashing monsters while I take in their Status Screen that Ali has finally tossed up.

Postosuchus (Level 52)

HP: 2799/3480

MP: 340/350

Postosuchus (Level 53)

HP 2477/3290

MP: 420/420

Tough but not overwhelming. Groups of three are doable, especially when we outnumber them so significantly. By the time Capstan gets back, the Postosuchus are dealt with.

�I left Whitehorse for this?� Bill says, disdain in his tone.

�You�re welcome to go,� Lana replies, waving toward the cave opening. �No one invited you.�

�Incorrect. I did,� Capstan rumbles. �This is but the entrance. More challenges await us within.�

�Well, let�s get on with it then,� Bill says, and Capstan nods.

Lana clenches her first and Nelia�s tail curls up in what I�ve learnt is anger, but Capstan walks forward, beckoning his team. I stay silent for now. Capstan�s a big, big boy and knows what he�s dealing with.

An hour and five fights later, beyond a slow increase in the number of monsters and the use of a freeze ray trap, this dungeon hasn�t gotten more dangerous. The lightning attacks never appear, which is a bit worrying. Perhaps I was wrong about what the sparks were meant for? Still, everyone else thought I was correct, and while the humans might not have much more experience than I do, the Yerick come from a long line of Adventurers. Whatever. Less trouble is good.

As usual, the dungeon morphs the actual dimensions of the cave, doing the �bigger on the inside� thing and letting us wander around for hours when we should have hit an ending already. Spatial dimensions, along with considerations like airflow and temperature, are an afterthought when it comes to Mana-infused dungeons. So when we hit an ice-filled cavern so large you could fit a couple of houses in it, no one�s surprised, though we end up squinting a bit from the reflected light from the hundreds of ice crystals.

While we�re squinting, a full fifteen Postosuchus hit us. Capstan swings automatically, his axe blade shearing through the air and passing right through the monster�s body without stop, throwing his balance off for a precious second, and without doing any damage. It�s enough for a pair of monsters to dog-pile him. Aaron�s bullets do no damage either, tearing up the ground as the Postosuchus rip into him. All along the line, the monsters attack and only a few weapons seem to work�Mikito�s naginata, Luthien�s guardian Mana blades, and Anna�s flames, which flare and drive the monsters away.

Standing just in front of Lana, I don�t have much time to pay attention as a pair surge toward me, their mouths wide and tearing as they crack against the force field Sabre generates. The shield drops by a third with just those attacks and I hiss, focusing for a second to cast Soul Shield on Lana. It lacks the auto-regeneration of Sabre�s shielding, but it�s certainly better than nothing.

�They�re phased. Energy weapons and Mana spells!� Ali shouts as he floats high above us, pain lacing his voice as he clutches at the remains of his left arm. Blue lights float around where the stump ends, slowly filling out his form again.

I thrust out my hand, calling forth my Mana Dart spell, and watch as four appear around my hand. They fly straight out, slamming into a Postosuchus that�s still trying to get past my shield. Sadly, Mana Darts might be cheap and fast to cast, but they�re not particularly powerful.

�Use your sword, boy-o. It�ll hurt them,� Ali shouts at me mentally. Now he tells me!

Not needing another invitation, I duck forward, calling forth the sword to lop off part of a nose that comes too close before making the sword reappear in my other hand, where I stab it down a throat. Between the pair of attackers and dancing deeper into the swarm, I keep my sword and my body moving. There�s a trick to making a soulbound melee weapon appear and disappear around you, a certain sense of timing and motion that makes full use of its ability. Why take the half-second to pull a blade out of a body when you can just make it reappear outside? The Honor Guard have a fighting style built around their soulbound weapons and I�ve done the best I can to imitate them. It�s effective, though often silly-looking.

Ingrid, in her shadow form, is fighting the monsters on their own turf, a pair of knives flashing as she cuts and stabs to keep the monsters from overwhelming Bill�s line. Luthien, her Mana-blades on defense, wields whips of fire that pass through but injure the monsters, leaving her other teammates to lay down cover fire. Bill�s pair of beam pistols kick out searing death, punching holes even through phased forms. The Yerick have switched weapons as well, converging and covering Nelia. All but Capstan, whose axe glows red under the effect of a Skill.

It�s not all going our way of course. We suffer more than one injury, but Ali�s warning has shifted the momentum in our favor. At least until the Postosuchus play their next card. They shift, dropping into our reality fully, and charge us. Attacks that once dug into their bodies and injured them glance off. They hit our line like wrecking balls and what was an ordered defense disappears as everyone ends up fighting for themselves.

I�m about the only one who isn�t affected�mostly because I broke ranks a while ago to draw more to me. Doesn�t mean I�m doing much better at hurting them, mind you, but when they come at me, I trigger Blink Step and appear behind them to grab the Postosuchus off Lana as she holds it off with one arm underneath its neck. I twist, making sure to put my hips into it, and watch the monster fly into its friends, who have just about turned around.

I lay into the four with Blade Strikes, blue lines of force rippling from my sword as I cut again and again. Each strike might not be as powerful as a hand-held cut, but at this distance, each blow is hitting more than one. Lana, on her knees now, adds to my attack with her shotgun, tearing holes into the monsters, blood and meat spraying from wounds.

�Go! I�ve got this,� I snap at Lana.

She jerks a nod, spinning to where her pets, other than Anna, are fighting a losing battle. The puppies are just not strong enough to deal with the added resistance of the monsters. Dashing forward and sideways, Lana unloads her shotgun again and again at an outlying monster as it rips and tears at Shadow�s foot. I don�t have time to watch, stealing glances as I work to keep my four on their back feet and away from me. The last sight I have of Lana and her pets is of Mikito dashing over, her own attacker a cooling corpse. Then I�m too busy to watch.

Minutes that seem like hours later, I pull the last corpse of my quartet of attackers into my storage dimension after looting it and sit up. I don�t bother moving faster�the last couple of dots on my minimap are a good indication that the party has things well in hand. Nice thing about the System is that if someone who�s wounded doesn�t have an on-going status effect, they�ll live and heal. Looking around, I edge over to the puppies. Lana has a bandage over Shadow�s leg while Mikito casts a healing spell on Anna.

�This more your speed?� Ali�s sarcastic tone can be heard in the distance as he taunts Bill, who is standing still as one of his teammates casts a regeneration spell on his hand, restoring a pair of lost fingers.

Ali�s only answer comes from Luthien, who tosses a ball of sickly green energy at Ali.

�Need some help?� I ask Lana, who nods. I squat, casting to help speed up the healing process. It�s not necessary, but there�s no point in wasting time either�you never know what might attack next. Which reminds me�

I look up, spotting the guards that Capstan has posted, all of them glowing with green light as Nelia�s healing spells work on the Yerick. Always nice to have someone with a little more experience in play.

�So those lights�part of their shifting properties?� I ask Ali mentally as I work on Shadow, Lana stroking the whimpering puppy.

�Best I can figure it, yeah. Want me to scout ahead?� Ali asks.

I send confirmation to him. No reason to ask him to be careful. The Postosuchus might be able to injure him, but he won�t die.

�You okay?� I ask Lana, eyeing the redhead with trepidation as she strokes the puppy. I notice the slight tremble in her fingers, the way she holds the black husky just a little too tightly.

�I�m fine,� Lana says. �Did you loot the bodies yet?�

I consider pushing her, but over the last few weeks, the wall between us has gotten so high, I�m not even sure how to breach it. �Not yet.�

�Go. We need the Credits,� she says.

I frown. She�s never been this obsessed with money. My hesitation draws an irritated glance from her and I stand to loot and store more corpses. Nothing I can do about it, at least for now. The others let me store the bodies, knowing it�s easier than the �usual� routine of digging through the corpses for the bits that the alchemists, smiths, and other crafters can use. As I said, the Guard Skills are useful in other, less direct ways.

A few minutes later, the group�s ready to get going, and I relay the new information sent back by Ali to Capstan. We head deeper, being more careful this time. Definitely not boring.

Nearly nine hours later, we finally come toward the end. If it wasn�t for the fact that Ali had found the Boss room, we probably would have taken a break already. Hell, if it wasn�t for the fact that we all had upgraded Stats, we would have had to take a break already. I can still recall my first day after the System came, when running, hiding, and occasionally fighting drained me completely�if not physically, at least mentally. But finding the Boss room gave us enough of a push to keep the group going, tired and cranky as we all were.

When we cross into the room, the Postosuchus Boss is curled up, head poking above its tail and staring at the only entrance. Violet eyes the size of dinner plates stare at us balefully as we enter, spreading out as we get ready. It doesn�t move, just watching us, and something in the pit of my stomach drops. It�s never a good thing when the monsters don�t attack immediately. It means they�re either smart or have something else nasty planned.

Capstan, Aaron, Mikito, the huskies, and the large lunk who is Bill�s tank move to circle the monster, our first line of defense. The rest of us hang back, charging up our attacks. And still, nothing happens. Capstan chops his hand down and we let loose, opening fire with bullets, beams, spells, and more�and that�s when things go sideways.

One moment it�s there, the next it�s gone. All our firepower is wasted and we�re left looking around, searching for trouble.

�He�s shifted over comple�� Ali shouts, his sentence cut off as he�s ripped apart. No blood, but body parts fly apart, and then Ali�s banished. And still we can�t see anything.

Ali�s words are enough though, and I check through the QSM�s settings. Assuming the Boss is using the same dimension as the rest of his team, I should be able to slide right in. A flicker and I�m in, the world around me becoming a ghostly outline. The QSM shifts me partly into the other dimension�not fully, since I wouldn�t be able to see where I was if it did�but it�s enough to let me see the Boss. The time I�ve taken is enough for it to shift positions again, getting behind our line and readying itself for the attack. I open up with the Inlin.

I�ve never tried before to fire the Inlin at a monster who�s all the way in another dimension. Rather than tearing new holes into the monster, the bullets lose their place in the dimensional shift quickly, dropping back into my default dimension. Thankfully, the monster�s so big, my shots tear up the walls rather than my friends. My shots landing so near the group sends everyone scrambling, making the Postosuchus shift and subsequent attack miss. A few attacks from my friends later and the Boss shifts back again, its minor wounds already fading.

Too bad for it that I�m waiting over here. Lightning greets it as I unload the spell I�ve been charging, white light so bright that even with flare compensation, I�m squinting. As before, energy crosses all dimensions�or stays in all dimensions, maybe. Either way, the Postosuchus writhes on its stubby legs, tail lashing as it attempts to hit me, but the lightning rips into it, tearing through its body and injuring it. I�ve got it on the ropes, its body writhing as electricity cascades through it, making muscles clench and neurons fire�and that�s when the grenades go off.

Quantum grenades are the high-tech answer to dimensional shifting. Being not fully in any particular dimension, the focused energy of the quantum grenades deal a significant amount of damage and can, if used properly, throw the dimensional shifter back into reality. That�s pretty much what happens to me as energy bombards my body, damaging me and Sabre in equal measure and ripping me away. I�m lucky that I wasn�t at the epicenter of the blast.

I lie on the ground, smoking and groaning, knowing that the Boss was barely affected by the attacks. After all, unlike me, it was fully shifted to the other dimension. The grenades were useful against its brethren, but against the Boss, they�d be no more useful than a warm shower. Even as I lie there, I feel Sabre re-routing around damaged components, restoring functionality as quickly as my Skill and its on-board processes can.

�Sorry!� Aron shouts at me, eyes raking over our surroundings as he awaits the next attack.

I answer him with a groan, casting a quick Greater Healing spell while Sabre finishes rebooting.

I�m too slow for what comes next. The Boss reappears next to Bill�s meathead and clamps down with its teeth. Luthien�s defensive blades strike out, plunging into the monster�s body, while spears of shadow erupt from the ground, impaling the monster even as the Boss attempts to bite the poor man in half. Bill is firing his pistols at point-blank range, each shot opening the wound wider and wider. Nelia and Bill�s healer tosses healing spell after healing spell in a futile attempt to keep the tank alive, but a last crunch splits his top half from the bottom.

A chime tells me Sabre�s up, so I�m up, a hand raised to add my spells to the mix, but the Boss is gone, back into the other dimension. I snarl, �It�s fully in the other dimension but somehow still seeing into this one. Quantum grenades are useless.�

I get nods and I scan around, glancing at the QSM. Nearly two thirds of the charge is drained, leaving enough to pop over and fight a little bit, but not really enough to kill. Probably. Better to stay here, add to the damage and healing. Maybe I can stop another person from being torn into pieces.

It pops into existence right behind Mikito, mouth snapping out toward the tiny Japanese woman. Bad idea, since she sticks her polearm into its mouth and jams it there. Halfway through her polearm, the Boss gives up on trying to eat her as the pain finally reaches its tiny brain. The rest of us are busy tearing into it, unloading shots into its body before it disappears, taking Mikito�s naginata with it.

Mikito cries out angrily, hands twitching as she pulls a pair of short, curved swords from her inventory. Silence ensues as we wait for the next attack, silence that stretches for minutes before it reappears, giant tail sweeping the Yerick aside. The Yerick might be big for humanoids, but weight and momentum win out and the group is thrown into the nearby walls, cracking icicles on their way through the air. Spells made of ice, fire, and shadows rip into it while beams cook its flesh and bullets add to its injuries. Mikito dances through the fire, ducking in low and cutting at its foot, severing a tendon before she�s brushed aside as the monster turns.

Twice more, the monster pops in and out, the second time catching Luthien and nearly killing her. Only a series of hasty healing spells and the fact that the monster is injured stops it from killing her, though it does take a foot from her as it dies. And then it�s over, the mutilated body lying in a pile of freezing blood while the rest of us begin the process of patching ourselves together.

Congratulations! Dungeon Cleared

+10,000 XP

First Clear Bonus

Having cleared the dungeon for the first time, you have been rewarded an additional +5,000XP +1,000 Credits. Bonus for being the first explorer +5,000 XP +5,000 Credits.

Bent Knee Ice Cave Dungeon classified as Level 65+ and above.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 35 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 3 Free Attribute Points and 4 Class Skills to distribute.

I stare at the man we lost and the flat, emotionless faces Ingrid and Bill sport, and I grimace. I have no idea what they�re thinking�perhaps someone like Rachel could understand the level of loss they must feel as another person from their town dies. So few of them managed to get out of Dawson. Selfishly, I can�t help but think that losing another person is a blow to Whitehorse. Especially when it�s someone this high level. The damn dungeons are getting tougher and tougher each day.

Chapter 5

�I hate being banished. The headaches really, really suck,� Ali grumbles when I pull him back into our world, watching my Mana pool drop like a rock when I do so. The biggest issue with Ali being linked to me is that the cost of summoning him keeps going up too.

�Do you even get headaches?� I wonder.

�Something close enough to it.� Ali shakes his head. �Sorry about the loss, boy-o.�

I glance backward at the reduced group trekking down the mountain and nod dumbly. Just another damn corpse to lay at the feet of the System. And mine. If I�d remembered to tell them not to use the grenades, if I�d purchased a Skill or some tech to talk between dimensions, if I had cast a Healing Spell� If. If. If. So many ifs. The ifs can pull you down, throw you into a whirlpool of self-doubt, and drown you in the past. You�ll freeze in the future and ignore the present if you let it.

What is is. I push aside the thoughts, the doubts, and the mental recriminations. Too many battles, too many bodies, too many deaths. I know the rest are doing much the same in their own ways, processing the battle so that we can go on. Because in the end, all you can do is go on.

�At least you got another level, boy-o,� Ali says, switching back to our private channel.

�Yeah. Going to have to assign those attributes soon.�

�Still keeping the Skill points for Level 40?�

�Yup. Third-tier Skills look pretty good. I�ll make up the difference with tech and Credits for now.�

�Just be careful. Might not always get time to assign them.�

�I know. Speaking of Credits, what�s with Lana�s obsession?�

�Well� I have a few ideas, but you aren�t going to like them.�

Before I can say anything else, Mikito sidles up to me and prods me. I look at her as she speaks. �I�m nearing Level 50. I was hoping Ali could tell me what happens then.�

Ali blinks and looks between the two of us. I shrug, and the Spirit rubs his chin. �Well, there are a few ways things can go. The easiest method is to take the Classes offered to you by the System. They�re derived from your initial Basic Class, mostly direct upgrades. Not a bad choice if you�ve already got a good base Class. If you want access to specialized Advanced Classes, there are Quests you can complete to open them up. Not really viable here though, but for the Galactics with the Credits and time, it�s a popular thing to do.

�Lastly, you can skip the entire issue and just buy an option via the Shop. Gives you access to a more powerful Advanced Class when you hit Level 50, but that�s pretty expensive. Those are the most common options. The change can get more complicated too, like Classes and Skills that give you options to get better Classes, but again, that requires planning and access to the options.�

�I�m assuming that�s the same for Master Classes?� I say and get a nod from Ali.

�Is there a way to find out what I might get offered?� Mikito asks.

Ali snorts. �Duh. Buy it from the Shop. Normally isn�t too expensive either.�

Mikito nods, taking the rebuke in stride. Of course it was that simple. The damn System always wants you to buy something from it. Always.

�What�s going on with Lana?� I mutter to Mikito, and she looks at me, opening her mouth to answer.

�I can hear you two,� Lana calls, striding forward and glaring at us. �If you have something to say, say it.�

Mikito blushes, ducking her head at getting caught.

I shift slightly, uncomfortable with the direct confrontation, but I grit my teeth and ask. Better to get it said and done. �What�s going on with you? You�ve changed.�

�I�m not allowed to?� Lana says, glaring at us.

�Not what I said. I�m trying to understand your actions. I�m worried about you,� I say.

Lana snorts, scratching at Howard�s grey fur as he moves up beside her. �I�m fine. I�ve got it handled out there, don�t I?�

�So far�� I admit reluctantly.

�I�m not the one who broke ranks earlier today. Or disappeared without letting us know why. Or has been reporting everything we�re doing to the Hakarta. Don�t you try to guilt me over what I�m doing. I�m fine,� Lana snaps. �I got this.�

I open my mouth and shut it as she swings up onto Howard, leaning down close to the puppy as it takes off. Well, shit.

�Thanks for the backup,� I mutter to Mikito, who shrugs, keeping her eyes on the ground. I can�t blame her�emotional confrontations aren�t easy.

We watch together as Lana and her pets take off, streaming away from the group, and we just shake our heads at the inquisitive glances we get from the others.

�Well, that went well��

It�s no triumphant return when we finally make it to Whitehorse hours later, though the Boss�s body that I drop off gets more than a few wide-eyed stares at the butchering yard. It�ll be a damn good bump to our food stocks. One nice thing about the System�pretty much anything that moves is edible, if it�s not poisonous by nature. Not as if anyone�s going to try to eat a Mercury Elemental of course.

It takes a short few minutes to get everything sold and the Credits distributed. Simple enough to send Credits via the System, so Mikito and Lana don�t even need to be there, a fact that Mikito took full advantage of the moment we got back.

I�m standing outside the city center building with Ali, trying to figure out what to do next, when the day decides to take another turn for the worse. Out of the building comes a pair of tall Tuinnar in red and yellow who carry themselves with that ramrod-straight bearing you see in soldiers. They quickly spread out, one of them watching Ali and me closely while the other scans the streets for more threats. They jabber so fast that even Ali�s translation doesn�t work, not while he�s busy with other things like getting their Status information for me.

A short while later, another pair of guards comes out, leading a tall Tuinnar woman and a shorter male Tuinnar, probably only five feet, three inches tall but with that predatory grace and unconscious confidence I�ve come to associate with the really dangerous. The woman is more interesting, beautiful in that dark-skinned, Elven way they have, long mossy-green hair contrasting with the gold and red of her dress. She walks the way the powerful do, certain with the knowledge that everything will work out just the way they want it to because that�s the way it has always been. Standing next to her, Roxley, pretty as he is, is overshadowed, even with his Skills and attributes. Not because she�s beautiful, but because her presence itself makes you want to watch her. Surprisingly, bringing up the rear of this motley group is Labashi, the Hakarta an ugly green contrast in the group of beautiful black Elves.

�Ah, John!� Roxley says, smiling as he waves me in through the security cordon. The guards tense slightly but don�t move to stop me as I walk forward. �May I introduce the Duchess Kangana�s Envoy�the Lady Priya Kangana and her escort, Weaponmaster Hondo Ehrish.�

Lady Priya Kangana (??? Level ???, Lady of the Seven Marshes, Mistress of the Kitchen, Savant of the Realm)

HP: ???

MP: ???

Hondo Ehrish (Weaponmaster Level 43, Master of Blades and Guns, Slayer of Orcs, Goblins and Unika, Destroyer of Monsters, The Unbroken Warrior)

HP: 4,340/4,340

MP: 1,900/1,900

�Evening,� I greet them, smiling slightly even as my eyes narrow. Envoy� deep politics for sure. Deeper than anything I�ve ever swum in. I�m not surprised her levels are hidden. Those titles on the other hand� it�s interesting what titles can tell you about a person. For example, Hondo�s are pretty clearly �don�t fuck with me� titles. Hers are more ambiguous. �What brings you to our little town?�

�Our visit to this village is a courtesy,� Priya says, smiling tightly. �We�re here to understand the scope of improvements the Duchess�s nephew has completed.�

Nephew. I still my face, knowing that going completely blank is as good a tell as shouting, but it�s the best I can do. Well, isn�t that interesting. �That�s nice. I hope you enjoy the visit.�

�I�m sure we will,� Priya says.

�This is one of your human Adventurers you have cultivated?� Hondo says, his eyes traveling over my body and flicking up in an all-too-familiar gesture. �I am not impressed.�

My smile widens at the casual insult, but I don�t make a move. Standing here, alone and in my light armor, surrounded by his guards, it�s not a good idea. Never mind the fact that he�s a Level 39 Advanced Class at least, if not Master.

�Advanced.�

And it�s just a bad idea. He got up to those levels the hard way, and kicking my ass would be all too simple for him. Better to smile. I�m a big boy. Words can hurt and annoy me, but swords and spears can impale me.

�Come, I�m sure Graxan has more he wishes to show us,� Priya says and waves for Roxley to carry on.

The Dark Elf Lord does, leading them away, and other than a familiar nod from Labashi, the group doesn�t pay me any further attention as they troop after him. I stare as the group departs, my brain trying to work out what this all means. It�s kind of like seeing the Queen in Whitehorse�weird and without any real context but definitely important. Either way, at least the shoe has dropped at last.

I find Vir upstairs, watching over the group in the anteroom that leads to Roxley�s offices, pretty much standing exactly where I expected him to be.

�Care to explain?� I growl softly.

�Lord Roxley mentioned you might be coming.� Vir waves me to a seat, his attention only partly on me. The rest I�m guessing is on the various security windows he�s got pulled up that only he can see.

�Why are they here?� I slump in the chair, waiting for an answer that would make sense.

�To take over the city, obviously,� Vir says.

�That I got, but I expected more, you know, guns. And spells.�

�That might come later, but it is not the way we operate,� Vir says. �Too wasteful. Better to start soft, come in diplomatic, and play things quietly. Leave the fighting for later when that fails.�

I frown. �So what, they�re asking Roxley to leave?�

�That would be too gauche. No, they will explain how he is not doing well enough, how the city might be better managed under some other, more resourceful individuals. They will pressure him, personally and familially, and when that does not work, well� I�m sure there are more plans in play,� Vir says, rubbing his chin. �Do keep watch. I expect there to be more plans in play at this time.�

�Not worried I�d report what I see to them?� I ask Vir, and he smiles slightly.

�No. Worrying does little in such situations.�

�Why aren�t you down there anyway?�

�Mmmm?�

�Well, you�re the spymaster, aren�t you?�

�No. Lord Roxley has designated another as such.�

�Bullshit.�

�I speak the truth. You may request the information from the Shop. I understand it is quite cheap,� Vir says, smiling slightly.

�But you handle all this spying and political shit, right?� I frown, staring at Vir. I�m pretty sure Labashi as much as confirmed it during our meetings.

�Yes, though I do not hold the title.�

I frown. �Oh��

Vir does the job but doesn�t have the title. Which makes sense, since if someone wanted to know who Roxley�s spymaster was, if they didn�t word the question properly, they�d get a different name. On the other hand, the fact that anyone who pays attention can figure out he�s the actual spymaster means that it�s not something they�re really trying to hide. Probably, again, because of the Shop.

�This is making my head hurt. If everyone knows you�re doing the job anyway, why bother?�

Vir falls silent for a time, staring at me before he answers. �Because the information you so casually toss around might not be true. Many groups have run double, even triple bluffs. Designating a spymaster but not giving them any responsibility can often just be the first cover, while the second might have the individual receiving such information later. Each layer of deception requires Credits to acquire in the Shop or knowledge to bypass the questions.�

�And the Shop varies the amount of Credits cost dependent on how much information you have beforehand, right? So if I wanted to learn who the real spymaster was without knowing anything beforehand, it�d be pretty expensive to just buy the information straight out.�

Vir nods, and I sigh. It does explain why so much is kept hidden or if not hidden, obfuscated in layers. No secret is safe if it�s been written down, spoken about, or transferred somehow through the System, but the cost of the secrets varies depending on how easy the information is to acquire. About the only secret truly safe is the one that stays in your head.

All in all, it makes for a paranoid world.

Chapter 6

A few days later, I find myself eating lunch at the Golden Nugget, working through the plates of ribs, steaks, and rice while waiting for the rest of my party to make an appearance. We�re having a late start to the day since Mikito and Lana were on newbie hunter training duty this morning. I ran my own group through a night course, which as usual ended up with a series of wannabe hunters moaning and griping about injuries. Really, you�d think they�d get over getting impaled after a few hours.

After spending the last few hours working with Aiden on adapting my Fireball spell into an Iceball spell�or whatever you want the equivalent spell to be called�I made my way into town, still devoid of a new toy to add to my arsenal. Learning spells the hard way is painful, but it�s useful for increasing my understanding of Mana. Problem is, even with my increased intelligence and knowledge, I only have so much time to devote to things like this. In the end, it�d almost be better for me to just earn the Credits to buy the spell from the Shop, but once again, that stubborn part of me actually does want to understand what the hell I�m doing.

�John!� Amelia, a broad-shouldered, big-boned lady, plops down in a vacant seat with a sigh.

�Constable,� I answer, smiling slightly. She�s dressed in Roxley�s guard uniform, the shoulders straining as she moves. I swear, each time I see her, she�s gotten larger and larger as her Class builds upon her physique. I�m sure, at some point, it�ll stop, but I am curious when that will happen. Right now, professional bodybuilders would be envious of her physique. �Good to see you.�

�Nice to see you too. Are you going to the meeting?� Amelia says brusquely.

I raise an eyebrow. �What meeting?�

�Of course, you don�t know.� Amelia rolls her eyes. �You really need to stop pissing everyone off.�

�Oh come on��

�You�re actually going to deny it!� Amelia snorts and raises her hand, ticking things off. �Telling Eric off, calling Miranda Battleaxe to her face��

�That was complimentary!� I protest.

Amelia doesn�t even stop. �Recommending that the alchemists devote part of their time to making potions for free as their taxes. Asking the Council to their face when they would grow a pair.� She shakes her head. �And that�s in the last month.�

�They needed to make the decision about the land claims. Dragging it out for another few months wasn�t going to make a damn bit of difference. The people who would be upset would still be upset,� I point out.

�I�m not saying you were wrong, but there are ways of doing things��

�Politics you mean.�

�Yes, politics. Diplomacy. Being nice. Lana�s not around to smooth the feathers you ruffle anymore, you know,� Amelia growls, gripping the newly delivered pint glass. She drains it before she slams it down. �Never mind. I�m not here to argue with you about this. I�m here to tell you that the Council�the human City Council�is meeting with Lady Priya.�

�Interesting. I didn�t think we had a human council,� I say.

A few months ago, the City Council that had ruled over humanity pretty much imploded when a stupid plan by the current Mayor fell apart. It ended with the creation of the General Council�one that consisted of both humans and aliens.

�It�s not official, but pretty much anyone who�s anyone who�s human is on it,� Amelia says. �Richard was. So�s Lana when she bothers to turn up.�

�Huh.� I shake my head again. I wish I could say I�m surprised I�ve been left out, but I probably wouldn�t have turned up even if I was invited. It�s a little surprising that they�ve gone and created an unofficial government, but only just a little. Humans will be humans and a surprising number of politicians seemed to have survived, at least in Whitehorse. �And you�re telling me �cause you think I should go?�

�Of course. Since I�m working for Lord Roxley, they don�t want me there but��

�But I�m rude and ignorant and no one is about to throw me out,� I finish for her and sigh. Politics. But I have to admit, I�m curious. �When is it?�

�At noon.� Amelia smirks slightly. �Might want to get on the move.�

I grimace, looking at the clock in the corner of my vision that Ali hacked into the System for me, and I sigh. If I want to get to the meeting, I�ll have to get going. Which means I won�t have time to finish the rest of my lunch. Amelia already knows this, of course, which is why she�s stolen a plate and is digging in without prompting. I frown at her and she grins at me, waving a pair of fingers as I stand.

The meeting is being held in the old city building. Thankfully, Ali�s able to quickly guide me to where they are; otherwise I�d be wandering the large building, looking like a fool. The room looks like a typical conference room, large tables with an array of office chairs filled with pretentious and self-important people. Surprising how some things have managed to make its way through the apocalypse largely untouched.

All the usual suspects are here. Eric Roth in his suit flanks the matronly Miranda Lafollet, who sits at the head of the table, while Norman Blockwell and a few other council members sit about, chatting. Jim Calbery and a few other hunters sit across from the politicians in their own cluster, with Bill and Luthien seated close by but separate. There are even a few businessmen, clustered closer to the politicians than hunters, who I recognize by sight, if not name. It�s a microcosm of the city�at least the human side. The tension in the room is high and grows even higher when I walk in.

�What are you doing here?� Eric says, lips curled up.

My lips tug up, the �smile� never reaching my eyes as I take a seat near the door and put my feet up on the table. �I thought I�d pay you guys a visit. Been missing your sunny disposition.�

�John, we actually try to do real work here,� Miranda butts in before things get too heated between the two of us. �Your presence wasn�t requested because, well��

�I�m an ornery bastard who gets bored?�

�You have no understanding about the difficulties involved in running a city!� snaps Eric.

�True.�

That answer makes Eric blink, his mouth working as he tries to find a comeback to the unexpected declaration of incompetence. Hell, I was a (bad) computer programmer back in the old world. Ask me to put together a website? Sure, I could do that. Running a business, much less a city, is well out of my skillhouse. No shame in admitting that.

�So why are you here?� Bill asks.

Luthien stares at me for a second, sparks dancing along her fingers as she eyes Ali.

�I want to hear what your guest has to say,� I reply, eyes tracking the red dots approaching our door.

I smile slightly, tilting my head as the Envoy�s guards step in, clearing the room. In a few moments, the Envoy herself makes her way in. Lady Priya, flanked by her Weaponmaster, stares at the group of lounging humans. A few people nod to her in greeting, and some smile as we wait.

�You will stand in the presence of the Lady!� snarls Hondo as he stalks forward, eyes glinting bloody murder. He radiates danger and anger.

Almost as once, the politicians and most of the hunters scramble to their feet. Jim hesitates for a moment before he stands, and Bill compresses his lips in anger but eventually complies as Hondo glares at him. Which leaves me, seated with my feet on the table. Hondo shoots me a glare, and for a second, I feel my stomach drop.

Mental Influence Resisted

�Get the fuck up, boy-o!� Ali shouts at me mentally as I continue to sit there.

My behavior is intensely rude, but I�m curious.

When Hondo moves, it�s so fast that it puts Mikito to shame. One hand grabs my ankle, another my arm even as I twist to the side and attempt to straight-arm him away. I don�t have the grounding to do that, and his momentum is enough to keep pushing me forward into the wall. He shifts slightly, blocking my leg before I can throw the kick, and snaps a series of punches into my short-ribs that crack them before he pins me with his forearm.

Most impressively, he punches me through most of the wall but not all the way in. With the amount of force we�re throwing around, accidentally punching through the drywall completely would not be hard. Instead, Hondo perfectly controls the amount of pressure he�s using, keeping me in the room. I grit my teeth as ribs grate against one another as they heal forcefully. Damn, he�s good.

�Greetings, Lady Kangana. Weaponmaster Ehrish,� I say from the wall, doing the best I can to keep my voice calm and controlled around the pain and budding anger. It�s been ages since I�ve been manhandled like this, and even if I was egging him on, that spark of anger at the loss of control continues to burn.

�You casually insult my lady then offer greeting to her?� Hondo growls, his grip tightening. His voice lowers as he says softly, �What game do you play, boy?�

�No game with her,� I answer him just as softly. Truth there. I was more curious about him.

�It is Lady Priya,� the Tuinnar says as she glides over to where Miranda is. The matronly human blinks then edges away, whereupon the Tuinnar sits down in her seat at the head of the table while continuing to speak to me. �A common mistake among your kind. Only my mother would be Lady Kangana. Now, do let him go, Hondo. I�m sure the Adventurer has learnt his lesson.�

Hondo drops me at her command, and with that dealt with, the lady�s secretary comes forward, announcing the lady and her titles formally. I note more than a few puzzled expressions at the titles. Titles are weird and seem to be gifted by the System for exceptional deeds or when we reach certain thresholds or gain certain Skills or lands. Most of the humans don�t have any, which leaves me with my two as a rare exception.

Most of the Lady Priya�s don�t matter as far as we�re concerned, though the Savant indicates a deep understanding of something. Unfortunately, the title itself doesn�t give more details than that and Ali�s still digging. More interesting is the fact that they don�t bother to announce Hondo. Not that his little demonstration didn�t get the point across.

�I understand you humans are much more� informal than my people. Is this not correct?� Lady Priya says, turning to speak with Miranda, who has made Eric give up his seat.

The entire table has rotated one down, leaving only Hondo, the guards, and myself still standing. When I shift my weight, Hondo shoots me a glare that keeps me standing next to the wrecked wall where he dropped me.

�Well, I don�t really know that much about Tuinnar culture, but we are informal here in Whitehorse,� Miranda says, flicking a glance at Eric. �As much as it pains some of us.�

�Well, as it is your city, I shall follow your customs. I am here to review the work that Graxan has done in his time in Whitehorse.�

�Assuming you�re talking about Lord Roxley,� Bill chimes in, leaning forward, �it sounds like you�re his boss or something.�

�No. Just a stakeholder. Graxan did borrow heavily to finance his purchase of the Village key. We are but ensuring that our investment is being handled well,� Lady Priya says, and more than a few humans look thoughtful. �Tell me, what do you think of Graxan�s leadership?�

With just those words, she opens the floodgates and suddenly people are speaking. I stand there, keeping my mouth shut while my brain picks over the information I�ve been given. I guess I�ve seen one angle of their game now.

Listening to the group, I�m somewhat amused to note that Roxley gets both praise and complaints in equal amounts. Considering Roxley�s a public persona, you�d have to figure he�s doing well. The fact that the praising and bitching comes from the same people, often in back-to-back sentences, is even more amusing.

It�s not to say I don�t know that they�re giving the young lady�old elf?�ammunition for later.

�Are Tuinnar ageless like the stories or is this just a case of Mana translation gone wrong?�

�Exaggerated. They�re longer lived than humans�figure between four to six hundred years generally. The System keeps them ticking over pretty well, but well, it�s also pretty lethal,� Ali answers.

I nod dumbly, returning to listening. All these complaints are probably not helping Roxley�s case. The fact that none of Roxley�s people are here to guide the conversation or otherwise report on what�s said is interesting too. On the other hand�I can just see Vir guiding Amelia to get me to come to listen in on all this.

The Lady Priya is good, the way she guides the conversations to raise issues and rile up the group. I�m not the only one who has noticed this�both Eric and Miranda occasionally look as if they�ve bitten into something bitter. Still, experienced politicians though they may be, the council is putty in the Envoy�s hands. Issues that were laid to rest months ago are brought up. Complaints about the lack of a safe space, the tents we had to stay in, and the way the hunters are given preferential treatment are just the start. Other complaints, like shortages and lack of variety in our food sources and the lack of emotional support and counseling, are par for the course. When the talk of emotional support and counseling gets brought up, I spot the way Hondo�s face flickers. I guess it must seem strange for someone who has grown up in the System to hear people talk about PTSD and stress from killing monsters.

�Thank you so much for your time,� Lady Priya eventually says, standing and calling the meeting to an end. �I will take all that you have said into consideration. You�ve given us much to think about. If you do have further thoughts about this or how the city might be served better, do let me know.�

Well. That�s a nice little ending�just another way to keep the council chewing over the things that Roxley hasn�t managed to make perfect. I note that she�s not promised them anything, made no indications that if she or her Lady took over, things would get better. It�s a smart play, since nothing she has said or done could be directly considered acting against Roxley. Just a stirring of the pot.

Hondo watches in silence, and when she�s finally done, he follows her out with one last, long look at me. I grin back at him, which makes his eyes narrow. Yeah, taunting the guy who kicked my ass is probably not a good idea, but I never said I was smart.

�What the hell was that about anyway?� Ali says.

�Mmm� testing. I wanted to see how far they�d push it if I pushed them,� I answered Ali.

�Learn anything?� Ali says dryly.

I send a mental shrug. Not really. I�d have preferred it if Hondo or Lady Priya were a bit more of a loose cannon. Smart, disciplined, and controlled are a tough combination to beat.

�Mr. Lee, we�ll be billing you for the damages,� Eric says, pointing at the wall, and I chuckle.

�Sure. Go ahead. Take it out of my next delivery of parts,� I drawl.

Eric�s lips tighten at my casual dismissal of his threat. Really, with the System in place, fixing up internal walls probably wouldn�t even cost a hundred Credits.

Luthien sniffs as she and Bill get up to leave. �Always causing a scene, aren�t you, John? Can�t just play along.� She falls silent when Bill puts a hand on her arm, silencing her before they walk out.

I grunt, ignoring her. I do play along. I�ve always played along�with my father, with the �yes man� culture I was brought up in, hell, even at my previous job. I played along so well till I got fired and my girlfriend left me. Well. I guess I do have a few issues I need to deal with.

Miranda makes her way to me, followed closely by Jim, my only real friends on the council. And with Miranda, I�d be more inclined to call her a sometime ally. Which is good, because while the lady might not be a fighter, she�s fierce and determined and ruthless, willing to do what it takes to keep her kid alive in this new world.

�John,� Miranda says. �Tell me, how much of what we said will you report to Lord Roxley?�

�All or none, depends on what he asks,� I answer, shrugging. �I doubt anything said here was secret.�

�There are no secrets in this world,� Jim rumbles, and I nod.

�I meant secret as in you wouldn�t want this to get back to Roxley. I am curious about why you said as much as you did to her,� I ask Miranda directly.

�Sometimes, things need to be said in a different way for others to hear,� Miranda says, her face grim.

All that was to put pressure on Roxley to improve things? Don�t they know he�s already doing the best he can? Anger flaring, I shake my head, staring at the pair.

�It doesn�t matter does it? One owner is like the other,� Jim says, his husky smoker�s voice growling out his words. �We�re still owned by them.�

I open my mouth to answer him, then shut it. After all, it�s not as if I actually have any proof of what life�s like in the other demenses. I just have Capstan�s word that Roxley is better than the others. Which, when you get down to it, isn�t particularly convincing for others. I trust Capstan, but that�s because we�ve fought and bled together.

�You�re a bit too close to this, John,� Miranda says, putting a hand on my arm. �Things aren�t that great for your average resident. We�ve still got mutations in the city itself, everyone�s complaining about the sheer amount of protein we eat all day�and the strange tastes!�and there just isn�t much to do. No television, no plays, no music except for the occasional band. Sure, we could get some of these System entertainment options, but that�s just more Credits and no one really has that much extra floating around.

�People are hurting, and all Lord Roxley seems to care about is how many Credits we can make him and when we�re buying the next building.�

My lips purse, and I have to admit, she has a point. The funny thing is that because we�ve finally had time to breathe, to relax a little and consider what has happened, everything we�ve lost is hitting harder. The friends, the family, the small luxuries are all gone, and all the wonders of the System aren�t available to most. And the few times we see those luxuries in use by others, it just makes us angrier. When we were all scrambling and fighting to get through the day, everyone was happier because we were all equal. Now, that equality is gone and the fractures are widening.

�It�s not that simple�� I say.

�I�we know. But it is that simple for most others,� Miranda states.

�You could talk to him yourself.�

�We�ve tried, but it�s hard. His� Skill makes it hard to think around him,� Miranda points out.

I sigh. �Fine. I�ll talk to him.�

She nods in thanks, letting my arm go. Jim grunts, following soon after, and I find myself staring at their backs, watched only by a distrustful Eric. I wonder if he�s thinking I�m going to break something else or steal the flat screen. It is a nice flat screen�

�Are they right?� I ask my Spirit as I head out the door.

�About what?�

�That Roxley�s screwing it up?�

After a moment�s hesitation, Ali says, �Maybe.Roxley�s stretched thin. He could have, he should have, bought up the buildings a while ago and resold them. That�s what they did in Carcross and Fairbanks. It�s what anyone with good sense would do.�

�And someone with more funding could fix things up faster eh?�

�Could. If they would� well, that�d depend on how useful you are to them.�

I nod. Damn. Perhaps it is time to have a real chat with Roxley.

Of course, it�s not that easy. It never is. I have to schedule an appointment for later that evening, which leaves me with nothing to do for hours. Mikito and Lana are nowhere to be found when I get out, so I just spend the time walking around the town, getting a feeling for the city again. Even though I live here, I don�t actually spend any real time in the city itself. That leaves me somewhat startled by the significant changes I see. Main Street is buzzing again, every single store filled. Instead of a single pub or restaurant, now there are a half dozen that cater to everyone with any Credits. Which in this case is mostly hunters.

And that�s the thing�the majority of the money in the city comes from hunting. Sure, crafters and makers pull together some small Credits from the goods they produce, but other than our beer, we�ve got nothing that special for the Galactic community. Nothing that would make others purchase our potions or armor from the Shop, no large trade deals. Eventually some of the materials we�re getting and altering will be in demand, but for now, we�re mostly just selling raw goods.

It�s the hunters who generate those raw goods, the hunters who get Credits from System-generated loot and hauling bits of monster back and clearing dungeons. Everything revolves around them, and everyone knows it. I have a bad feeling that this might be how knights and lords got started, but I�m not an anthropology major. It�s never a good thing when there�s such a big power imbalance, and even if people aren�t thinking of it in these terms, they certainly understand it on an intrinsic level. We�ve all grown up with the belief that at some level we�re equal, but reality and the System are kicking that right in the face.

The few hunters I see prowl the streets as if they own them, and everyone gets out of their way. Or tries to sell them something, whether it�s a new potion, piece of armor, or in some cases, themselves. Not everyone�s set up to be a fighter, but support personnel can be useful too. Even if that support is in the bedroom.

I don�t see much in terms of Yerick or Kapre, mostly because both races keep to themselves in their respective neighborhoods. In fact, the only Kapre I spot is down at the butchering yard, dickering for and purchasing the offal being thrown away. The Yerick are a bit more common, little bull-children running around, picking up flowers to chew on and being watched over by bored teenagers. Tensions might not be as high, but the aliens have their own lives to live.

Compared to Carcross, Whitehorse is plain dull. It makes the Tuinnar guards in red and yellow stand out all the more, the way they casually throw around Credits as they buy whatever catches their eye and wander around in a single layer of clothing. Probably some form of high-tech fiber, alongside natural resistances to the cold, is keeping them nice and warm. More than a few have little drones following them to store their purchases, the guards obviously not caring if the drones get stolen. About the only thing they store in their System-generated inventory is beer, which is amusing in its own form.

Eventually I end up back at Roxley�s building, ready for our chat. Surprisingly, I�m directed into his dining room rather than office and find Roxley�s personal chef, with his spherical, bulbous body, waiting for me, our places set and served. A moment later, Roxley walks in alone.

�Roxley,� I growl, staring at the plates that smell so damn good. Strips of green and purple vegetables lay alongside meat pieces and a carb dish similar to but sweeter than potatoes. �What�s going on?�

�I thought our discussion could be had in a more informal setting. You haven�t eaten, have you?� Roxley smiles at me, walking over.

I can�t help but follow the line of his lips down to his broad chest.

Mental Influence Resisted

A bit late on that one. It�s why, as much as I�m attracted to the man, I can�t, won�t act on it. I don�t like not knowing why I like him, and I don�t trust the emotions I feel around him. Even if I can resist his ability most of the time, most isn�t enough. Even if I know some of this attraction is natural. Or you know, alien natural. There�s a thing to be said about tall, dark-skinned, pointy-eared, muscular men.

�John?�

�Sorry.� I shake my head then glance to at Ali, who�s still hovering by my side. He�s been quiet for the last little bit, play-acting as if he�s watching some new reality TV show, but I know he�s paying attention. �I was hoping to discuss something important, Roxley.�

�And we will. But there�s no reason not to eat as well,� Roxley says, gesturing to the table again.

My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I never did finish brunch, and I give in. �All right, go. Find out what you can from his companion, will you?�

�Next you�ll be teaching me how to balance a neutron,� Ali sends back sarcastically.

�Fine, I�ll join you,� I reply, taking a seat while Ali disappears.

As per Tuinnar custom, we don�t speak about anything important while we dine, just a bunch of small talk about the city, Vir, and the food. Mostly, we talk about the food. It�s only when dinner is drawing to a close and dessert is ready that I drag the conversation back to something a little more serious.

�This dinner is a bit nostalgic, isn�t it?� I say, looking around.

�Good times. Simpler times,� Roxley answers before sliding the mousse-like substance into his mouth.

�Things seem to have gotten more complex recently.� I push my plate aside, and Roxley sighs.

�Thank you for waiting,� Roxley says. �I know it�s hard for you humans.�

�Hard�� I huff and shake my head. �For some. My family didn�t do much talking about work at dinner either. But Priya and her minion are dangerous.�

�For many reasons,� Roxley confirms.

�You know about the meeting with the humans today?�

�Was it eventful?�

�Complaining, bitching, and the like. The council wants you to push more funds into making the city better. At least stabilize the city mana flows and stop the spawnings.�

�As if it was that easy�� I raise my eyebrow, and Roxley stares at me before he answers. �We�ve never talked about the Seven Seas, have we?�

�No.�

�It is not a prosperous land. Not anymore. The cities, the lands surrounding it were destroyed when a Titan and an Aeldar Giant fought. They tore up our lands, our cities, and there were no Adventurers who could stop them. By the time they were done, my land was ruined.� Roxley says all this in a deadpan tone, keeping his emotions in check. �I was not there. I�d brought my personal guard with me on a luxury trip, and by the time we learnt of it and found a Shop to teleport back from, it was too late.�

�I�m sorry.�

�It is the past. However, the barony has struggled since the fight. This, the new Dungeon World�it was, it is, a chance to finally turn the fortunes for my house and my land,� Roxley says. �Ever since the battle, we�ve lost access to high-level zones and decent dungeons. The Titan drives away all but the lowest level of monster, and even when we hunt those, we must do so carefully. It is only due to its laziness that any of my people survive.

�To buy the Key for Whitehorse, I had to call in the many favors my house had accumulated over the years. In doing so, I have diverted the resources, the guards, and the Credits from my barony. I can do little more for either location. If we are to survive, if the city is to prosper, you humans must make it so.�

I grunt, leaning back and staring at Roxley. It�s the first time he�s ever been this frank with me about the situation he�s in. Not that I haven�t gleaned some of it through previous talks, but it�s the first time he�s said it. �Capstan once said that compared to others, you�re dealing us a fair hand.�

Roxley stares at me, frowning. �That is a gambling metaphor, is it not?�

�Idiom maybe? Something like that. Sorry.� Sometimes, the System-enabled translations miss things. �You�re being fair to us and not attempting to screw the city over.�

�Ah� yes.�

�Why?�

�Enlightened self-interest. My understanding of human culture is that humans work better when their self-interest is engaged. So long as these benefits are coupled with significant downsides,� Roxley says.

�Huh.� I rub my nose. �And I guess the System provides all the downsides, eh?�

�For the most part. Though Whitehorse being taken over by the Duchess and being relegated to manual labor is hopefully a significant deterrent as well.�

�Manual labor?�

�The Duchess has little use for those who produce little. Those that do not generate sufficient Credits are either removed from her lands or become her serfs. Financial slavery until such time as they have earned enough Levels to pay off their debt,� Roxley says. �Though I must admit, the Duchess does provide training and keeps her interest rates at a justifiable level, unlike some others.�

�How does all this land thing work? I mean, you own the city and can upgrade it, but I own my house in it.�

�Ah� you are wondering how the System enforces our titles and ownership? It does not. Much like your own world�s history, ownership and control of a location may be taken away at any time. It requires force of arms,� Roxley explains then gestures downward. �In the end, control over a Shop and the City Center is most important, but many of my brethren also enact controls over movement and commerce. The level of each is up to the various forms of government to enact and, ultimately, enforce.�

�Huh.�

I fall silent for a time while Roxley sips his drink. It�s a light blue beverage that tastes somewhat similar to coffee but with more intense sour notes. I�m served coffee, which I add a large dose of sugar and milk to, contemplating all that he�s said. If I had to guess, it sounds as though our cities are basically ancient city states�more theoretical control than realistic in many ways, outside of where the guards march. Then again, I�m no history major�I just took a few classes during university. Some days, it�s frustrating running into blind spots like this.

�What�ll it take to upgrade from Village to Town?� I ask, returning to stare at the handsome lord.

�We have both the population and resident level requirements, along with the minimum number of registered building types. What we require in the end is the safe zones�and those are close. So very close.� Roxley exhales, shaking his head. �If we had but another month, it would be fine.�

�You don�t expect to get that month?� I ask.

Roxley shakes his head. �No, the Lady is already pressing ahead with her plans.�

�Which involves making you pay her back? And why the hell would you borrow from the Duchess anyway?�

�I did not. However, my creditors sold my notes to the Duchess when asked. She is� formidable and I�m sure offered more than the notes were worth,� Roxley says bitingly, his tone saying �how dumb do you think I am.� I take the rebuke quietly. �And she cannot use my notes for this. My contracts are very specific in this regard�I have until the end of the year to ensure Whitehorse is a Town. However��

I somehow knew that Roxley had a however when he started speaking. I keep my mouth shut and let him talk.

�My liege lord has rescinded the reduced tax rate that was assigned to my barony. At this time, I have projected that I will have sufficient funds to either pay the taxes or my Credit notes if we are able to upgrade the town. Not both.�

�What happens if you can�t pay the taxes?� I ask, and he smiles wanly at me.

�A noble who cannot pay for the upkeep of gifted lands is no noble. I will be stripped of my title and the lands and, depending on the severity of my shortfall, be subject to further sanctions.�

I wince. �Well, that sounds like they�ve got you in a bind.�

�Indeed.�

�Is that it then? Or are we looking at more?�

�Definitely more. To start, I expect she will ferment further insurrection. Slowing down the purchase of buildings would be the obvious step. To ensure I cannot meet either obligation, the Duchess is likely to exert additional financial pressure on the city, potentially manipulating the market for our materials. I am sure there are other plots in play, but those are the ones we have ascertained.�

�And if all that fails, she sends in Labashi?�

�Yes,� Roxley says grimly.

�Can we beat him?�

�If they sent his entire command? No. Even a small portion would be difficult.�

�So��

�The usual method to deal with mercenaries is to ensure that it is too costly for them to carry out their contract. Or for their employers to pay for the contract to be completed.�

�Make them bleed on the beaches and streets, eh?�

�Whitehorse has no beaches we care to defend,� Roxley says.

I sigh. Well, there goes my attempt at being smart.

We fall silent for a time before Roxley speaks again. �Do you have further questions?�

�No. Not right now,� I answer, standing at the obvious dismissal. He�s right�as fun and enlightening as this might have been, it�s time to go. One hand still on the table, I stare at the Elf, lost in thought.

�John�?�

�Sorry. I just don�t like being on the defensive.�

The Tuinnar hisses and walks to me to grip my arm. �Don�t, John. They are more powerful than you could believe. So long as we play the game as expected, they will not take further steps.�

I feel the warmth of his fingers pushing through my sleeves, warming me up. �If we do that, we�ll likely lose.�

�If we break their rules, we�ll likely lose anyway,� Roxley says, growling softly. �Promise me you won�t do anything stupid.�

�Fine. I just don�t like it,� I grumble. Not as if I had any actual plans, just a feeling.

Roxley releases my arm, leaving me to flex it. It�s only then that I realize how close he is, how I can almost sense his body inches away from mine. I turn toward him, and he tilts his head, the corner of his lips tugging up.

�Well. Time to go,� I say hoarsely.

�But we haven�t even trained yet,� Roxley objects, pointing toward the training floor.

I blink, recalling previous sessions where we fought and trained together, times when he was shirtless and sweating, and find myself stirring.

�Definitely time to go,� I mutter, but I find my feet refusing to move.

�Are you sure?� Roxley murmurs again, a hand lightly touching my arm.

I focus, pulling my attention and will to my feet to get them moving. Yes. Definitely time to go.

I leave to the soft, luxurious laughter that escapes way-too-kissable lips. Damn elf.

Chapter 7

Home is a short bike ride back, but long enough that I�ve cleared my head by the time I pull up. That�s a good thing because the large, tusked Orc walking out of my house�s door is not what I was expecting to see. In fact, a Hakarta coming out of my house was never something I expected. I almost go for a gun when I realize I know this particular Hakarta.

�Labashi,� I greet the large green humanoid who looks briefly surprised to see me before he gives me a huge grin.

�John,� Labashi says.

�Ali,� Ali greets himself and, seeing that neither one of us is particularly interested in having him join the conversation, returns to staring at his screens.

�Why are you here?� I growl, the conversation with Roxley still ringing in my head.

�Visiting a friend.� Labashi inclines his head inside. �I wanted to offer my commiserations to Lana for her brother.�

�Really?� I say, doubt in my voice. That seems� well� strange for someone who only knew either of them for so little a time. Or maybe the fact that I find it strange says something about me, the way I can regret and hate the deaths but at the same time not really feel them. How my feelings are always just a touch remote�all but that bubble of anger that sits in my stomach.

�Yes,� Labashi says. �I liked Richard and his sister. They are, were, strong individuals.�

�How is she?� I tilt my head to the door, curious to see what the more experienced Hakarta might have to say. Dealing with grief might be something we�ve all had to learn, but Labashi and his people are experts at it.

�I have seen worse,� Labashi says. �The first major loss is the most difficult. Some never recover.�

I grimace, wishing he had something better to say. Yet I can�t really blame him or discount what he said. I guess it�s a good thing that for me, my first loss was decades ago when my mom died. A late night, an inattentive driver, and my world changed. It took me years to crawl out of the hole that put me in, and my father never did. What had been a strained relationship became something so acrimonious that even now, knowing he�s dead, I can find little there but rage.

�John.� Labashi�s voice cuts through my ruminations as he steps past me, headed back to the city.

�Labashi,� I call, making the Hakarta turn. �What are you doing here?�

�My job,� Labashi replies then continues walking.

I say goodbye to his back, watching him leave while I mull over his words. Inside, I don�t find Lana working in the kitchen or dining room, and the door to her room is closed. For a moment, I consider knocking but then push aside the thought. I don�t know what else I could say that I haven�t. Time. That�s what she needs.

I wake to the 1812 Overture blaring at thousands of decibels. I roll and snatch a pistol from a chair, my sword appearing in my other hand, only to find no visible threats. A quick scan of my minimap shows me nothing new either, even as I hear tramping and shouting above me as Lana, her pets, and Mikito waken.

�What the hell, Ali?� I shout as the music turns off.

�Incoming trouble. Need you to get dressed, boy-o.� Ali shoots up, straight through the walls to even more screams and shouts.

Soon enough, the clamor calms down and Ali floats back through the floor with a shit-eating grin as I finish dressing.

�Did you have to use the cannons?� I grumble, slapping around my neck the circle that makes up my helmet.

�No.� Ali smirks and points. �Come on, slowpoke. The girls are mostly dressed already.�

And I bet he enjoyed buzzing on them. Seriously, he�s a disembodied piece of energy and concepts in his home dimension�how the hell did he turn into a minor pervert? Then again, as I clip on my belt and head out the door, Ali did say he drew his �human� form from my mind, so perhaps I should stop asking those kinds of questions. I might not like the answer.

�John.� Lana�s face is washed, devoid of any form of makeup.

Mikito, on the other hand, seems to have found the time to put on the lightest of touches, which says something about her speed and priorities.

�Nice of all you to join us,� Ali says, a giant blue screen blooming in front of all three of us. �We�ve got a swarm coming right down the river to hit Riverdale. They don�t look like they�re going to stop anytime soon.�

�How?� I frown, staring at the details on the map. The way the purple dots bob and move, I figure we�ve got at least an hour before they arrive. Which makes no sense, since even with his greater scan radius, there�s no way Ali�s able to reach that far.

Mikito offers the screen the briefest of glances before she heads to the kitchen to raid the fridge.

�Tapped into the city�s expanded sensor grid. The Kapre tied themselves to the city and the surrounding trees,� Ali explains as he gestures us out. �Extended our sensor net, at least on this side of the river, a good few miles.�

�Nice�� I admit. I grab the package of rice balls that Mikito hands out before we all exit, the puppies and Anna already gathered outside, waiting for us. I�d been wondering what the Kapre had added to the city and I guess now I�ve got my answer. �So the hunters have all been alerted?�

�Yup.� Ali nods, gesturing to the lights flicking on all around us. Formerly dark houses are filling with light as the residents wake up to the new danger. �Plan six is already in play.�

�Six?�

�Yes, John, six,� Lana says bitingly as she climbs onto Howard. �We�ve been planning for an attack on this side of the river for a while now. Six is for when we�ve got enough warning to evacuate the non-combatants to the other side of the river.�

�Oh�� I feel kind of foolish. Of course they�ve got plans. It�s not as if the fact that Riverdale is pretty much our most unguarded flank is unknown, nor is the fact that we�re seeing more and more swarms. Even if we do our best to cut down on the Bosses on this side of the river, it was bound to happen eventually.

�Now come on,� Lana says to me irately, suiting action to words by kicking Howard into gear.

Mikito�s already on Wynn, and the pair of them ride off, leaving me standing next to Sabre. So it�s like that, eh? I get on hastily and get moving, the too-quiet Mana engine switching on without a sound. Still weird.

The problem with defending Riverdale is that there really isn�t a natural chokepoint or even a simple demarcation of urban and nature. At best, there�s the dirt road that cuts behind the suburb, but with the way most of the houses abut the forest, there�s no real clear ground to fight from. We can, and probably have, thrown up Mana shields around the whole suburb, but the larger the shield, the less powerful it is. Unless, of course, you get a bigger Mana engine and battery to power it.

�Care to fill me in?� I send to the Spirit after a few moments of thought. Trying to figure out the plan seems silly, considering they have a plan.

�Pretty simple. We�re hunkering down in a few houses along the line that have been reinforced for just this purpose. Long-range weaponry and casters being primary, a few melee supporters in the mix. Mobile troops here and here��as Ali speaks, my map flashes in time��with a final reserve here. Mid-way fallback points are here and here with final fallback at the bridge.�

I grunt, tracking over the map. If we fall back to the bridge, the school and the last few people who haven�t made it out of the tents are going to lose everything they�ve got. Again. Hopefully they�ve grabbed anything important and stuffed it into their inventory, but with the panic that�s probably spreading in the school, it�s unlikely they got it all. Still, things can be replaced. Us humans are getting a lot scarcer.

�Where am I?�

�We�re in the middle house,� Ali says, flashing it green.

Makes sense, we�ll be able to� I clamp my mouth shut when I watch Lana and Mikito split to head to their own posts. Right. No use putting all of us in the same house. We�d hold that location and maybe lose the others. Better to split up the heavy hitters for where they can do the most good.

Glancing upward, I watch as the flood of purple dots continues to advance. �Any data on levels yet?�

�Drones are on their way. Data should be back in another ten.� Before I can even ask, Ali continues. �The Kapre had the choice of giving us range or accurate data. We picked range.�

Fair enough. I still wish we had more information sooner, but it is what it is. I�m pulling up to the designated house, another Riverdale special with its ground floor and partially-submerged basement. A long, deep backyard runs into the woods and a small bike path. A kid�s playset and a pair of trees lie trampled on the ground, smashed apart by a metal dinosaur that shifts from foot to foot, moonlight gleaming off its body. I stare at it and its likely controller, a half-Dragon man, who�s busy planting a series of explosives into the ground and directing others who are busy shooting, blasting, and chopping back the forest. A part of me wonders why we�ve never done that before, but I�m smart enough to keep my mouth shut. After all, it�s not as if I did it either.

�Tim,� I call to the lizardman.

He turns toward me, flashing a wide grin filled with shark-like teeth. I have to admit, it�s a bit disturbing, but I don�t let that show on my face. Tim�s dealt with enough shit for the way he looks after he made the change. No point in adding to it, especially when I know from the other side what it�s like to have others judge you based on your looks only. The number of times I�ve been shouted at to go �home� while in Vancouver isn�t something I can be bothered to count.

�You in charge here?� I ask.

�Not anymore,� Tim says, grinning. �Heard you were assigned here, so I�m handing this over to you.�

�Nope.� Ali floats over and shakes his head. �Boy-o here doesn�t know the plan. Not really. You�re in charge, Timmy�s.�

�Don�t call me that!� Tim says, and I chuckle slightly while Ali smirks. Admittedly, the loss of our favorite donut place is more of a sore spot for some. Personally, I thought their coffee was okay and their donuts stopped tasting right a while ago. �And I don�t want the responsibility.�

�Suck it up, scaleycup,� Ali retorts.

Before this can escalate any further, I point at the big dinosaur-shaped creature that stomps around on its clawed four legs, its extra-long neck twisting and turning as it scans for trouble, tail lashing out behind it. �What�s with the dinosaur?�

�It�s a Dragon. Sort of.�

�It�s kind of missing its wings. Or you know, ridges on the back and a much longer body if you�re going Chinese,� I point out.

�I haven�t put the wings in yet. Do you know how expensive anti-gravity engines are?� Tim grumbles, and I just look at him, sitting on my hovering bike. He blinks and nods. �Well, yeah. Okay. Fine. I need to put a lot of them in to keep the entire thing stable.�

�So you made a dinosaur,� I point out.

�It�s a wingless Dragon!�

�Di-no-saur.�

�Go plant some mines!� Tim snaps.

I chuckle, transforming Sabre before walking toward the rest of the group to do as he says. Well, that settled that.

Let me be clear. When I say we planted mines and trapped the area, this wasn�t a professional job. Sure, we�d picked up a few tricks along the way�maps of where all the mines were, secondary triggers just in case the first didn�t work�but we mostly just stuck them in the ground and moved on. The mines and grenades aren�t going to do much damage, so no one is willing to spend a ton of time on it. They�ll add damage and hurt whatever comes, but conventional weaponry in general just isn�t that powerful. It�s why it�s so cheap in the Shop. Anything mass-produced has a tendency to be reduced in effectiveness�or maybe it�s more accurate to say it�s not boosted�by the System. Still, if my experience in the Spore dungeon was anything to go by, explosions and flames do a lot in terms of sowing confusion. And I�ll admit it, I add a couple of the more expensive Chaos mines as a tribute to Richard. The man always did love adding those to a fight.

By the time we pull back to the house to settle down for the fight, the data from the drones is streaming in. Not as good as anything Ali could get if he was there himself, but the images are enough to give us an idea of what we�re looking at. Unsurprisingly, the first wave is comprised of the lower-level monsters that hang around the safety of the city. Most of these we leave to the automated defenses and Tim�s dinosaur. The hunters that sit, squat, and peek out from the windows of the house add the weight of their own firepower once in a while, enough so that Tim shouts at them to slow down and conserve their Mana and charges.

Out on the lawn, there�s just me and a man who looks like a cross between a lumberjack and a pro linebacker. I let him do most of the work with a sword the size of a spear, which he wields with ease at any monster that breaks past the defenses. Few enough right now, though I watch others flow into the city through blind spots between the front line.

�Ali��

�Already on it, boy-o. We�ve got mobile shields on the way to plug the gaps.�

With a thought, I�m floating a few feet, enough to get a better view of the forest in front without getting too high and blocking the shots of those behind me. A few feet isn�t a lot, but it�s enough for me to start adding the weight of my own firepower to the line. I let loose my newly upgraded Mana Darts, a half dozen glowing blue missiles of irritation. They hit, they hurt, then someone else�s shot kills them..

All the while, I�m watching the dots in front of me shift from the purple of unknowns to the grays of low-level creatures, then to the blues of those only mildly below my level and the greens of those level appropriate. The fact that it�s all based off my numerical level means the data isn�t exactly accurate, but I�ve gotten used to reading it anyway. End of the day, blues are good, very good. It means that the hunters with me, the fighters, and the automated defenses can handle them. If we start seeing greens in any real numbers, then we�re in trouble.

Minutes tick on. Monsters fall and pile up before me and always, always there are more. Conservative firing or not, the hunters behind me run out of beam rifle charges and have to switch batteries or to projectile weaponry. The slack in fire, the break in shooting, means more monsters make it through and the linebacker has to pick up the slack. I could look at his name, figure out who he is, but I�d forget it soon enough anyway.

�Tim,� I shout over the mic, raising my hand and opening up with the Inlin attached to the mecha, watching as it spews death. �You want me to push them back?�

�We�re good. Hold back on your Mana,� Tim says over the com.

�My level�s pretty good,� I add, glancing at the bar that has barely shifted from three quarters down, even with the firepower I�ve thrown around. Tim�s never fought with me before, and unlike me, he doesn�t have Ali feeding him stats on everyone around.

Silence. Then Tim says, �Light them up.�

My lips widen and I raise my hand, calling lightning to my fingers. I�ll admit, months after I was able to summon the forces of nature for the first time, I still can�t believe I�m doing this. As much as I bitch about the System, there are perks. I hold back for a second, reaching for that other sense that Ali awakened in me so long ago. An Elemental Affinity they call it, a sense for the forces that make up the world. Sensing it is only the first part. Making adjustments comes after that. Small ones, tiny enough by themselves, that build and build, then I let the lightning loose from my hands. There is no pain, just a slight shuddering as electrons pull through me and outward before I play the electricity across the forest and the monsters. The creatures twitch and fall from the attack, lightning sparking and cooking flesh as I float higher. I barely notice poorly aimed blasts to my back, Sabre�s armor shielding me from the majority of the damage.

�Oy! Friendly there,� Ali shouts for me while I cut off the lightning.

The Swarm lies twitching and smoking in front of me, the few still alive finished off by quick blasts. Simple. Easy.

And of course, that�s when things go to hell.

Red dots, a lot of them.

�Tim, you seeing this?� I snap as I float back down.

�I see it. This��

�I know. Pull back?�

�One second,� Tim says, and I know he�s consulting with whoever is running the whole show.

�Ali. This seems� wrong. We�ve never had a Swarm in the middle of the night before. Doesn�t make sense for it to happen�so far, it seems most of the major predators are day creatures, and they�re the ones that dictate the Swarm movement. No reason for a Swarm to start if there isn�t enough pressure, which shouldn�t come at night. And reds? That�s Level 40 plus.�

�I know, boy-o. I�m looking into it, but I ain�t seeing anything strange. If someone, something screwed with the monsters around here, it�s too far back for me to tell.�

I don�t have to wait long before the call for a general fallback comes over the radio. The mobile troops move into the street to lend their firepower to make pullout easier, allowing the linebacker and our hunters a chance to disengage. I don�t move though, staring out into the distance, not firing.

�John! We�re pulling back. Come on!� Tim shouts, but I shake my head, still staring into the distance.

�Shit. I know that look, boy-o. Forget it.�

�Tim��

�Here we go again,� Ali says plaintively.

�John?� Tim�s voice sounds a little harried.

�I�m going to check something out,� I say then take off running straight into the woods.

�John!�

Tim�s shout gets lost as I kill the audio connection. I leave him my video feed, though who knows if it�ll still be transmitting by the time I get there. There being uncertain and unknown, since I�m working off a hunch. An educated hunch, but a hunch nonetheless.

This isn�t the first time I�ve gone running through a Swarm. I figure it�s, like, the third time. If you count the couple of runs through the Spore dungeon, it�s my fifth time bouncing through clumps of monsters. All that is to say, there�s a trick to it, one that can be acquired through experience, preservation, and a willingness to do incredibly stupid things.

First thing to know, always keep moving. Staying still is death. I�m pounding ground since the hover ability on the mecha can�t keep up with the speed I�m moving at. I do use the anti-gravity engines in small measure, giving me additional distance on each leap, but it�s all about momentum. Monsters in a Swarm aren�t out to kill and maim. They�re mostly running away from something, like a bear running from a forest fire. It isn�t necessarily dangerous if you get out of its way. Of course, when they�re running right into your house or city, getting out of the way is much harder.

�Yahoo!� Ali screams, laughing as he flies above me.

I can�t help but grin, bouncing off the ground and bowling a giant slug-like creature out of the air through sheer momentum. It splats against a six-legged cat monster, then I�m gone.

Second lesson�sometimes, going through rather than around can be more efficient. Physics in a System world is messed up, but momentum is still momentum, which means a fast-moving heavy object is still more likely to smash apart a tree or monster than the other way around. Or you know, at least push it aside.

I skip across the ground, get into a slide, and pass under the giant rock monster that swings at me. I don�t even bother opening fire on it, though Ali goes into a panicked climb as he tries to get away from one of the few monsters that can not only see but hurt him. Unfortunately, my slide keeps going long after I want to stop and the weird slime creature that glomps along looks to be interested in eating me.

Third lesson�always have another trick up your sleeve. I flick on Blink Step and teleport to the side, slamming my fist to the side to kick my entire body up and let me keep running. I toss a plasma grenade off-hand into the path of the slime monster just because I�m tired of getting eaten. Like, seriously, I�m not into slime monsters.

I keep running, dodging deeper and deeper into the Swarm, watching as the blue and green dots disappear from my map to be replaced by red dots. Many of these monsters are less panicked, more angry, and I find myself having to shoot, cast, and dodge more than ever. Frankly, it�s getting dangerous, even for me, but whatever I�m looking for, I haven�t seen it yet.

�Ali? Got anything?�

�Nope,� the diminutive Spirit sends right back, probably expecting the question.

I call forth my sword, using it to impale an ugly horse-faced demon as I go by, it�s sex dangling dangerously low. No city for you. I leave my sword in it, continuing on as I drop another pair of grenades behind me. As I said, they don�t do a lot of damage, but the confusion and fire help.

When the sea of monsters around me becomes almost purely red, I know my time to cut and run is near. I need some results before turning back becomes an impossibility. Did I mention that Fate really doesn�t like me?

Just about when I think that, I get an answer. It�s just not the one I expected.

The halberd cuts through Sabre�s armor and into me with ease, catching me mid-bounce and throwing me for a hundred or so feet and through a couple of trees. Pain racks my body as broken ribs grind in my chest, blood pouring from the wound and staining the mecha red. A part of me is wondering how the hell I got blindsided like that, but I�m already triggering Sabre�s shield and my own. I�d have had them up earlier, but Sabre�s shield drains her battery fast, which is why I try not to use it when I don�t need to.

It�s a good thing I�ve got the shields up though, because the follow-up attack crashes right into Sabre�s shield and is stopped only by my own Skill. I stare at the glowing pale-blue blade in disbelief before I trigger Sabre�s mini-missiles.

My attacker jumps back a short distance, his weapon spinning and slicing as he tears the missiles apart. While I struggle to my feet, the son of a bitch cuts my missiles apart. With a halberd. It�s times like this that I hate the System. Still, he might have sliced the missiles in half, but I can remotely trigger them, so I do. The ensuing explosion is less useful for damage purposes�which sucks because those are expensive, hand-crafted missiles�and more useful for giving me time to actually assess what I�m seeing and feeling while I back away.

Feeling first. I�m not sliced in half. More like a third off my hit points. The cut itself was probably about four inches deep, but Sabre�s automatic healing processes has clogged the bleeding and started injecting healing potions directly into my body. It�s the usual mix of a regeneration booster and a direct healing potion. Sabre�s nanites are also flowing toward the armor plate, patching the hole as fast as they can.

Seeing next. My attacker�s tall, thin, fast, and deadly. He�s dressed in high-tech camouflage gear that hides his face and body, but the way he moves and fights speaks of years of mastery at combat. Ali is flying back to catch up with us but circling wide as if the Spirit is scared of him.

�Sorry, boy-o. He dropped out of hiding just as you got near him.� Ali squints at the figure before me. Data blooms on top of the figure, but it�s not particularly useful. Just a lot of question marks.

Sneaky Bastard (Level ?? ???)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

�And his data�s all hidden.�

�No shit,� I answer. I raise my Inlin, tracking the masked figure with it while I keep my other hand down and to the side, ready to call forth and use my sword if he gets in too close. Of course, with that polearm, he�s got the reach advantage on me.

Whatever internal debate my attacker was having, it�s resolved when he flickers toward me. I�d say faster than I�ve ever seen, but that�s a lie. Mikito, boosted by a Thousand Steps and her Haste Skill, is just as fast. Which is a good thing for me because I spar with her quite often.

I catch the polearm with my summoned sword�s guard and lash out a kick to a kneecap. It�s dodged easily, and his follow-up attack with the butt of his halberd crunches into my shield. I watch as the barely regenerated shield flickers and dies again, and I stop playing around.

I throw on Thousand Steps, Blink Step to the side of him, and cut fast. He�s already moving, dodging backward to get back into his preferred range, but I expected that. I trigger Blade Strike with my cut, sending the blue edge of force outward and opening a cut on the man�s armor. It�s not a powerful strike, but it does score the armor, opening a wound on his body. I pile on the Blade Strikes, one after the other.

After the third attack, they stop hitting because the bastard is weaving between the strikes, shifting his body in weird angles as he closes the distance. Having shaken off the surprise, he�s back in my face and attacking and it�s my turn to retreat, dodge, and generally try to stay alive. It�s not that simple though, as I realize I�m seriously out-matched. Every shot, every spell, every cut I throw is anticipated and I�m somehow never in the right place to land the hit. All the while, he�s chipping away at my Soul Shield then Sabre�s armor, the halberd a twirling blur that rocks me side to side.

Unable to get away, pushed into a corner, I open up with the barrage of missiles again now that they�ve reloaded. This time, my attacker doesn�t bother to dodge them, tanking the damage to stay close. However, for that brief second when fire illuminates everything, I disappear.

As I said, always have an extra trick. And the QSM is mine.

Chapter 8

I crouch low by instinct as my body shifts over to the other dimension partially, the QSM holding me partway between each. Now that I�m hidden and untouchable�mostly�I back away. That glowing pale-blue Skill probably could hurt me, even through the dimensional wall, if it hit. One thing I learnt when I fought the Hakarta, the QSM might be powerful, but its shift is distinctive, which is why I waited until my attacker couldn�t see before I used it. Now he�s spinning around, searching for me on the wrong plane, probably thinking I Blink Stepped away.

As I back off, I have time to really study my opponent. There�s something eerily familiar about the way he moves. I had gotten that feeling when we fought, and it strikes me again. I just can�t put a finger on it. Not yet.

�Ali, anything you can tell me?�

�Well, I�m pretty sure he�s the reason the Swarm happened. I think he�s been pushing the Bosses around, creating the environment for one.�

�You can do that?�

�Well, he can.�

I hear the slight incredulity in Ali�s thoughts as well. Jesus. Perhaps it�s time to get out of here.

I really should remember not to tempt Fate like that. Pretty much the moment I think it, he shifts and moves, crossing to where I am, his polearm glowing with blue light. I throw myself to the side, but I�m too slow, too surprised to get out of the way properly. I feel the blue light tear through me, pulling apart atoms and locking up muscles in agony. My shields are down�can�t keep them up in this state�so I�m just a sitting duck as he lashes out again and again and I scramble to get away. My hit points are falling like a waterfall, dropping below 40% in seconds.

I�m too exposed between dimensions. With a thought, I drop, fading back into reality. Before I can stand, he�s on me, a hand clamping my arm. He grinds down, inhuman strength warping armor until he reaches the QSM embedded in my flesh, then he keeps squeezing. I hear the crack of my arm breaking, along with the QSM, but I�m too focused on his other hand. The polearm is held up overhand and stabbing down and I can�t get away.

Ali swoops in, catching the blade at the edge and pushing it aside just enough that it misses my neck and rips apart the armor around it. I scream, pulling on my gift, and Blink away, stumbling. I don�t hesitate this time, Blinking again and again. On the third, I drop a series of grenades before I Blink again, making Sabre inject a Mana potion into my body to give me the energy to do so.

In the corner of my eyes, I see Ali�s dot flicker and vanish, banished. I snarl, but I can�t stop, can�t wait. Running isn�t the best option, but it�s the only option here. He�s too fast to fight at range, too good to fight at melee, and my tricks don�t seem to be working. I run, Thousand Steps and Blink Step taking me farther away with each breath, my ruined hand and QSM clutched to my chest. I run, because staying means my death.

�John!�

The shout brings me back to my senses, Sabre finally in contact with the city. Ali�s still banished, so I�m limited to what on-board software and my Skills can provide in terms of information. It�s not bad, mind you, and outside of the main path of the Swarm, I�m able to heal and kill on my way back. My left arm�s fixed and working again, though the QSM is still broken. To say I�m angry about it is probably an understatement, but underlying the anger is fear. I�ve never had a fight be so one-sided before, have it dominated completely from start to finish.

�I�m here,� I reply, glancing at my Mana bar. I have to admit, I�ve been keeping my Mana high just in case I need to run again. As much as I�d love to pull Ali back, I definitely don�t want to be caught out here again.

�What the hell happened?� Tim�s harried voice comes back. �And why the hell did you leave?�

�Had a hunch. It paid off. I�m coming in from the other side of the river. Think you guys can drop the shield for me?�

�One second�� Tim answers then falls silent.

Within minutes, I catch sight of the walls that make up the start of the defenses and the slightest shimmer in the sky that indicates the shield is still up. To my right, I see the bridge and the guard posts being swarmed by monsters, bolts of blue mana beams, red flames, and I hear the crack of projectiles erupting from the wall and the defenders. Behind the monstrous attackers, Riverdale is ablaze, houses and trees on fire. Thankfully, it seems to be relatively contained, the snow on the ground keeping it from becoming a full-out inferno.

�Redeemer,� Capstan, the Yerick�s First Fist and titular leader, rumbles over the communication channel. �We are not able to drop the shield for you. We do have some minor problems on the river. Can you deal with it?�

I grunt, looking at the low-running, half-frozen river, and see what they mean. The shield is holding up quite well, but the small pile-up of aquatic and semi-aquatic monsters on the water�s surface are clawing and biting as they batter at the barrier. Their constant attacks are weakening the shield slowly, and if they aren�t stopped, they�ll eventually tear it open and leave us vulnerable to being flanked. Raising the Inlin, I target the monsters, picking them off from behind as I float forward.

An hour later, I�m done shooting and looting the corpses and have stuck most of them in my Altered Space, leaving me floating in the middle of the river, occasionally adding the weight of my spells to the pile of monsters still trying to cross the bridge. Luckily, the vast majority of the creatures can�t fly�and those that can rarely bother us. Unfortunately, the corpse pile in front of the wall is so high that I can barely see the monsters I�m supposed to kill. I can shoot farther downriver, and I do, but that doesn�t really help relieve the pressure at the wall itself. I�m mostly just stuck, floating and waiting, watching the pile of red dots slowly disappear, some being killed, others following the river farther north.

When the shield finally lowers, I breathe a sigh of relief and float up to the bridge. I�m already working my fingers, calling Ali back to this dimension. I doubt my attacker will make an attempt now. Ali shimmers into existence, purple, green, and yellow colors swirling before he arrives with an audible pop, clad in his usual orange jumpsuit and looking uncharacteristically serious. I guess getting killed can do that to a Spirit.

�Redeemer. Care to explain why you abandoned your post?� Capstan rumbles, hands on his hips and neck stretched forward as he stands on the wall with the rest of our fighters. I watch his short tail wave slowly, methodically.

�Had a hunch the Swarm wasn�t natural. Thought I�d check it out,� I explain, ignoring the threatening nature of his words. I like Capstan, but the Yerick is used to working with his clan where his word is law.

�Was it?� Mikito asks.

I look at the little Japanese woman, flicking a glance at her still-dripping naginata, before nodding slowly. It takes me only a second to spot Lana, knee deep in the bodies, looting. Surprisingly, Aiden�s on the walls too, earphones on and staring away from the carnage with an indescribably sad expression. That man�s bleeding heart is going to get him killed someday.

�Sort of,� Ali answers for me while I look around. �We found the instigator. I�m sending you guys the data. Boy-o got his ass kicked though.�

�So did you,� I point out to Ali, who sticks his tongue out in reply before wincing at the movement.

I see worried looks cross more than one face. Outside of potentially Capstan, I�m stronger, faster, and tougher than anyone here.

�This seems to be information Lord Roxley should learn of,� rumbles Capstan.

Ali snorts, about to retort, and I shoot the Spirit a look.

Capstan picks up on the byplay and inclines his head. �Do we know who this was?�

�No real proof. As you can see, he�s all covered up,� I reply then pause, considering adding my suspicions. Eventually, I choose to stay silent. Even an old dog like me can learn.

Capstan notes the hesitation and snorts, nostrils flaring, but he doesn�t push. Leveling charges without proof is probably a good way of getting into real trouble.

�How�d the defense do?� I ask, glancing around. �We going to be able to reclaim Riverdale?�

�We held them at the wall with minimal issues. Allowing them into the chokepoint ensured that the shield was not over-burdened and allowed us to deal with the Swarm. No major injuries and no deaths,� Capstan replies, shrugging broad shoulders. �We will be sending in groups to verify the damage and deal with the fires soon, once the Swarm fully disperses.�

I nod and sigh. �I�ll join them. I should check out my house too.�

Capstan nods, and I glance at Mikito, who shakes her head at my unasked question, pointing at Lana. I stare at the redhead, who�s focused on looting, and I nod. Yeah, best to have Mikito keep an eye on the lady. It�s not as if I�m that worried about an attack in town. That would be a touch too blatant I think.

Coming home, I stare at the remains of my house. The good news is that it hasn�t caught fire and the stand-alone workshop is mostly in one piece. Bad news is that, reinforced walls or not, the house didn�t survive the Swarm. I don�t know if it was one huge monster or a series of medium-sized ones that knocked down the walls, but I guess it really doesn�t matter.

89 Alsek Rd.

Current Owner: John Lee, Adventurer

Purpose: Residence

Status: 84% Structural Damage

A thought is all I need to call up the next screen.

Cost for Repairs: 22,987 Credits

Expensive. It�s more expensive than buying the actual building initially, even if it was discounted. I�ve managed to upgrade it a few times, so the cost isn�t completely out to lunch. If I get someone with skills or the right Class, I could have them do the repairs for a lot less. I raise my hand to pay for it, knowing that it�ll take a chunk of my Credits, then hesitate, realization flowing through me.

Gods. Of course. That�s what the Swarm was for. They weren�t looking to kill us or hurt us. They were looking to make us waste our Credits, waste our time and effort rebuilding. Riverdale will never be particularly safe, not without a lot more effort put into developing walls, pits, and other defenses. It�s just too spread out and exposed.

�First Fist. Lord Roxley,� I greet both of them as they pick up my call. �I�m standing in front of my destroyed house and I�m thinking that this was the point. I could fix it but��

�But it would be destroyed again in short order. Perfect plausible deniability,� Roxley says. �Yes, we know.�

�Oh�� I fall silent, shaking my head. I guess when it comes to the politics of this stuff, I�m still behind. Well, at least I figured it out. Not completely, of course. We could buy the identity of my attacker from the Shop, but considering he had Skills that hid his identity, I wouldn�t be surprised if it was very expensive. And then what would we do? Accuse him and end up in a fight that we know we�re already going to lose? Better to avoid that discussion for now.

�We have already informed many of the residents that we have arranged housing on this side of the river temporarily. The General Council has been informed of the likelihood of further damage to residences in Riverdale,� Roxley says.

�The Yerick have offered to put up some of those displaced in our settlement,� Capstan adds.

I blink, trying to figure out how many would actually take them up on the offer. Then again, most of these people were living in tents not so long ago. The Yukon winter isn�t particularly comfortable to live in with only a single layer of thin polyester between you and the howling winds.

�I guess you guys have it figured out.� I kill the channel before they can answer and look up at my Spirit. �Ali? Any suggestions of where we�re going to crash?�

�Well, Capstan did say the Yerick are taking in strays.�

�No.�

�John��

�No.�

�Fine. Maybe ask the girls?�

I nod. True. If anyone has an extra space or know of any extra space, it�d be Lana. After all, between her involvement in the city and the foundation she�s set up, she�s probably got the best connections. Even if she�s been shirking her responsibilities lately.

I cast one last look at the house, wondering if I should go into the ruins to pick up anything. In the end, I don�t. There�s nothing in there that I really need. Everything important, everything expensive or System-registered is on me. The rest�clothing, food, and furniture�doesn�t matter. I was never one to put up photos, and when the electronics died, that destroyed everything else I kept. Now all I have are fading memories, glimpses of the past and flashes of what my sister looked and sounded like. Just ghosts in my soul.

�John?�

I blink, finding my hands aching from how tightly I�ve closed them. Damage monitors flicker, telling me that Sabre�s gauntlets have taken damage while I was off thinking.

�Sorry. Thinking. You�re right, let�s talk to the girls.�

I�m not sure it�s a good thing or a bad thing that Ali was right. Lana did have a place for us to crash. The fact that it was the floor of the Nugget� well, that was just the way it was. I sigh, shaking my head as I lever myself straight after only a few hours of sleep. Not that I needed much more physically, but mentally, I could probably have used a few more hours. Still, the Nugget needs to open and at least breakfast is on its way. Looking around, I note that Lana�s still in the office, probably crashed out on the couch inside.

�John,� Mikito greets me as she walks out of the ladies� room. She looks all put together, shining with that weird too-clean look of a Clean spell.

�Morning.� I push tables and chairs into place before seating myself. I cast a simple Clean spell on myself, twitching as a thousand feathery fingers run down my body and clear away the dirt and grime. Mana drops, and in a second, I�m clean but feeling slightly raw. Did I mention that it also exfoliates?

�I was reviewing the fight footage,� Mikito dives right in, taking a seat next to me. �He uses a polearm too.�

�Mmhmmm�� I answer as Sarah troops in.

Richard�s ex dumps a pot of coffee and two cups in front of us. I smile my thanks and she inclines her head before heading back into the kitchen.

�He�s good. Very good. Different style, more Chinese, but very good. You need more training if you wish to face him again,� Mikito says, pulling a cup to her.

�Huh. I was hoping I�d just let you deal with him next time,� I tease, stirring sugar into my coffee.

�Don�t have the Levels,� Mikito says, shaking her head.

I sigh. She�s right. There�s the thing�skill matters, but Levels really matter. �Recommendations?�

She purses her lips, thinking. �I�ll review it more. Let you know.� Mikito�s black hair sways as she glances back at the closed office door. �John� Lana. I�m worried.�

�Oh?� I raise an eyebrow, urging her on.

�She�s not handling Richard�s death well.� Mikito looks down at her hands. Her voice drops as she continues to speak. �Not that there�s a good way when you lose someone. But she�s not talking. Or raging. No crying. She�s just� focused.�

�I�ve noticed.� I look at the door again then glance upward, calling Ali�s attention back to us. �You got anything to add?�

Ali�s lips purse and he stares at us. �She�s in denial.�

�Figured that. She�s obsessed with Credits right now. Why?�

�I can find out more, but she�s a friend. If we do this�� Ali says hesitantly.

�Crossing a line?�

�Definitely.� Ali nods firmly. �There�s basic data searches and then there�s this.�

I look at Mikito, who returns my gaze. She considers for a moment before she nods firmly and I nod once. I guess we�re committed to this then. Breach of privacy and all. I just hope what we learn is worth it.

Talk drops off as Sarah comes in with a plate of bacon, and I pour the coffee as we get ready for another great day in the city.

Chapter 9

Swarm or not, life goes on. In days, the city has fallen back into its new pattern. Our guests continue to make their presence known, poking around town and setting up a series of meetings with various individuals. Nothing that can ever be considered hindrances, but the background grumbling about the state of affairs in the city grows. Unsurprisingly, humans being humans, not everyone agrees to staying out of their homes in Riverdale or refusing to fix them up. Futile or not, I can understand clutching to something, anything that reminds you of your past. Understand, if not relate to.

Mikito and I pool our Credits and pick up a small apartment downtown once we realize there isn�t a better option. Lana refuses to spend her Credits or stay with us, citing the pets as an excuse. She ends up staying in the Nugget�s office, where we meet her for breakfast every day. The rings under her eyes have gotten darker and I know she�s not sleeping as much as she needs. Enhanced constitution or not, we�re still mostly human and need a few hours every day. Even her pets look a bit worn down. I have a sneaking suspicion she�s been hunting with them at night, alone.

Lana refuses to speak about it, leaving Mikito and I to wonder and worry. Ali hasn�t provided us any further details, just asking us to be patient. I�m not entirely sure what the holdup is, but then again, I don�t have access to the System like he does.

Perhaps it�s the constant death, the on-going pressure of annihilation, or just the Council�s desire to give people something, anything to celebrate that has the streets decked out for Christmas day. Preparations took surprisingly little time. Skills and magic can make a lot of things, so giant Santa sculptures, thirty-foot-tall snow slides, bouncy castles, and party decorations litter the downtown. They�ve turned Main St. into the main party area, with tables full of food and drink and trapped Fire Elementals giving off light and heat in equal order. A good thing too, with temperatures sitting at -30�C tonight before the wind chill.

Everyone who can be spared from the city defenses are there, Yerick and Kapre mixing with humans. Most of the humans are busy explaining Christmas food and rituals to the aliens in stilted, uncomfortable conversations. As usual, the hunting groups mix the best�the shared danger and risk having broken down the barriers between the races.

Well, the hunting groups and the children. Kids, once they�ve realized that neither group is inherently dangerous, get along extremely well. Mixed groups of children race through the streets and the giant bouncy hall set up next to the bottom of 2nd St, playing with the wild abandon that only children have. It�s good to see them, hear them laughing again. The first few months, there wasn�t much laughter. Even now, the occasional human child will drop out of play as bad memories surface, but their minders are more than used to that, offering cuddles, kind words, and sweets as necessary.

Everyone�s having fun in the main square, laughing and dancing and passing along small gifts. So of course, I�m out here on the walls, staring into the dark of the night. Other than Tim�s dinosaur drone, I�m by myself, holding the south wall on the off-chance something might test our defenses tonight. I turn away from the party, commanding the magnification to drop off as I stare at the road before me. It�s good that people are enjoying themselves, taking a break. Perhaps this will quiet some of the grumbling I�ve heard recently.

�John,� Mikito greets me as she climbs up next to me.

�Mikito. What are you doing here?� I jerk my head back toward the city. �Why aren�t you at the party?�

�I was. People were wondering where you were.�

�Ah�� I fall silent, shaking my head. �I don�t celebrate Christmas. Figured I might as well let others who do so have fun.�

�Oh?� Mikito raises an eyebrow, propping her naginata up against the wall she leans on.

�Yeah. My family wasn�t Christian. My dad thought the entire thing strange. He never had Christmas growing up. Actually made it difficult for us in school�� I sigh, recollections of taunts and awkward conversations as a kid coming back to me. I shake my head, pushing it aside. That life is gone now. The past is pain.

�I understand,� Mikito answers, looking back, and sighs. �Last Christmas Eve, Shota and I, we spent it together. This year, we were supposed to celebrate it with his parents as a married couple. Our first��

I hear her voice catch, the hitch in it. I ignore it, knowing Mikito hates to have us notice. For a time, we stand there in silence, staring into the dark. Even now, with the city slowly coming back to life, the darkness is barely pushed back by the ambient light. It�s something that would have been impossible a short while ago, this inky blackness, and leaves no doubt about why our ancestors made fire a priority.

�You could join them,� Mikito suggests after a while. She doesn�t look surprised when I shake my head. Her next words come out as a statement. �You�re planning on leaving.�

I flinch slightly even though there is no accusation in her voice. �Yes.�

�When?�

�After we�ve sorted the Envoy out. Once Whitehorse has settled, once the set-up time is over��

�Where?�

�I�m� not sure,� I admit, staring into the darkness. �Probably down to Fort Nelson first. Debating between Edmonton and Vancouver.�

�Your family is�was�in Vancouver, was it not?� Mikito asks.

I nod. She frowns at me and I know what she�s thinking�that I should go there to check it out. But I verified a while ago. They�re dead. I paid the cost to the Shop, high as it was.

�Have you told Lana?�

�She knows.� I figured that out a while ago, that she knew I�d be leaving one day.

�Did you tell her?� I shake my head, and the Japanese woman sighs and shakes her head. �You should.�

�I will. When it�s right.� Not that it matters. Lana�s focused on whatever she�s up to, and everything else, everyone else, is secondary to that.

Mikito nods and lets the topic drop, and I exhale. Well, that went better than I thought it would. As much as I like Whitehorse, as proud as I am of the people here and what they�ve done, this isn�t my home. Soon enough, I�ll be gone. It�s better for me, for the city, if I stay out of their way, out of their politics and institutions. Better to be the ghost in the system that no one remembers.

We�re having an early breakfast a few days later, the sun still hidden beneath the horizon, when Amelia and Jim come in looking tired and depressed. At Mikito�s wave, they join us, snagging a cup of coffee and orange juice respectively while they take a seat.

�What�s up?� I ask, not bothering with pleasantries.

�We lost another team. The Killa Squad,� Jim says, and I raise an eyebrow.

�Martial artists. Went around punching and kicking things mostly, though they carried guns too. One of the mid-range squads, they worked the level twenty to thirty zones,� Amelia explains.

I nod. Right. I remember seeing them in the Nugget. Tattoos, mohawks, and wannabe fighters given life by the System. Nice guys actually, if loud. I cudgel my brain for more information but find nothing�I rarely interact with the majority of hunter parties. They weren�t good enough to be part of the elite squads but weren�t so useless that they needed to be babysat.

�How many does that leave us?� Mikito asks.

Lana just listens, looking mostly disinterested in the entire proceedings. I frown slightly at that�Lana used to have a bleeding heart and now� well. Now.

�My squad working the level thirty-plus zone, three more in the level twenty-plus zone. And about six permanent that are being worked up,� Jim says, bushy white eyebrows tightening.

�Six? I�m sure I�ve worked with more,� I prod the older First Nation Elder.

�Six permanent. Most of those you�ve been working with have been, ummm�� Jim pauses, searching for the word.

�Casuals,� Amelia says, holding a hand up to cover her mouth as she speaks around her meal. �They�re there for the experience, not the hunting.�

�Oh�� I frown, shaking my head. Well, that explains the level of stupidity I saw in some of them. But� �Why me?�

�Oooh, oooh. I got this one,� Ali says. �You�re scary, so the casuals listen to you. You�re strong enough that even if they screw up badly, you can save their asses. And you�re a horrible teacher. Since they aren�t here to learn anyway, that�s fine.�

�I�m not�� I protest and see nods from all around.

Even Lana joins in, a slight smile crossing her face. I glare at the group, feeling betrayed. I mean, sure, I don�t like idiocy and I do shout at them a bit when they make mistakes, but it�s for their own good. How the hell are they supposed to learn if no one tells them?

�Sorry, John, but Ali�s right,� Amelia says. �We want to coach the other groups, not crush them.�

I growl softly, crossing my arms, and Ali snickers. �Boy-o�s pouting.�

�I am not,� I snap at Ali, who chuckles out loud.

Lana smiles slightly then glances at the food and the way Amelia and Jim are attacking it before she looks at us. �Are we ready to go?�

I open my mouth to agree, but Mikito cuts in, �How did we lose them?�

The topic brought back to hand, Jim and Amelia share glances.

Jim answers slowly, his deep voice dropping lower. �Not sure. The Kapre let us know they died, and when we got a team to look into it, all we found were signs of a fight. No bodies. The snow overnight hid most of the tracks, so all we know is that the fight was pretty focused.�

There were quite a few frowns at that. While monsters do drag away and eat bodies, it was unusual for there to be no bodies at all. Anything that could take out a group quickly and took their bodies was not good.

�Get us the location. We�ll swing by that area and see if Ali can see anything else,� I say and get a pair of grateful nods.

I ignore Ali�s muttering about not being a tracker. I�m sure he�ll do the best he can, even if it might not be much. At the very least, we can see if we picked up anything new.

While the System has taken to teleporting in new monster types much less frequently, it still happens. If it�s a new monster and one powerful enough to take out a hunting group that quickly, we�ll want to squash it before it starts replicating. The last thing we need is to have something truly nasty out here.

Now that we�ve got this sorted, Mikito stands.

Lana huffs out, �Finally,� too loud to have been missed by any of us.

We all ignore the redhead stalking out of the pub, though Amelia shoots a concerned glance her way before looking at us. All I can do is shrug before I hurry after the ladies. With the mood Lana is in, I doubt she�ll wait.

I snarl, hunkering behind the absurdly strong tree as the barbs from the Ilukin monster tears apart everything else around me. I grip the barb that sticks out of my shoulder and tug it out, feeling the serrated edges tear through my flesh and catch on the metallic edges of Sabre�s armor plating. Blood pours out, and I have to mentally command Sabre to not inject me with a healing potion. No point in wasting Credits on that just yet. With a flick of my hand, I toss the barb away and scan the surroundings.

Mikito is crouched in a small depression, barbs flying above her head and forcing her to stay down even as the Ilukin attempts to close on her. To my right, Lana and the puppies are sheltering behind portable force shields and my own Soul Shield, both of which are doing their best to keep them alive. Lana�s working on pulling out the barbs in Wynn�s flesh. Already, I can tell that the shields are beginning to fail. I swear, recalling how everything went to hell in such a short time.

The Ilukin found us after we�d been to the kill site and found nothing. We�d moved deeper into the zone, hoping to find traces of a monster that could have killed the hunting group. That�s when we were ambushed by the Ilukin, crouched at the top of a rise and hidden by the snow. The Ilukin look like the meaner, nastier version of a porcupine with their barbs reversed and all in white. Each time they shift, they shoot and regenerate the barbs in seconds, filling the air with deadly missiles.

In moments, they�ve denuded the foliage and are in the process of tearing down trees and rock with their barbs. Poking my head around the corner of the tree, I have to pull back quickly as they step up the attack on me, pinning me in place and barely giving me a chance to see.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

�Mikito, they�re moving to flank you!� I snarl over our communications channels.

If they keep moving, she won�t have the angle left to hide. I focus, slapping a Soul Shield on Mikito just in case and watching my Mana drop. Even as I speak, Mikito�s tossing out smoke grenades, providing her further cover. Lana follows her example a second later, the tosses arcing over the shield in front of her. Purple and pink smoke pour out from the grenades within seconds.

The Ilukin are the worst kind of monsters for us to fight. As ranged fighters, the Ilukin are laying down sufficient fire that we have to stay hunkered down. Our group can fight at range, but it�s mostly meant to let us cover the ground until we�re up close and personal�sort of like the way Romans carried pilum to toss before they engaged. Normally running around in the forest or dungeons makes ranged fighting more difficult, but this time, our reliance on close combat has us stuck with no cover.

�John, the shield�s failing!� Lana shouts.

�Cover fire coming.� I stick my hand around the tree, firing blind and as fast as I can, dumping the Inlin�s full load in seconds.

I track the shots left and right and the slackening of fire gives Lana and the puppies a chance to run. My blind cover fire isn�t enough to stop the Ilukin completely and the large dogs are easy targets. Projectiles tear into their furry bodies, ripping skin and tearing muscles even through the light armor the puppies wear.

The Inlin clicking empty, I pull my hand back and listen to the weapon cycle, Sabre loading new ammunition from its stores. No time to wait though, so I stick my head and hand around the tree on the other side, casting Fireball again and again. From the corner of my eyes, I can barely spot the place where Mikito was, purple smoke covering the ground.

�Ali, how many?� I could count the dots on my minimap, but asking him direct is faster and easier as I split my focus between spells and cover.

I snarl, ducking and shrugging as the tree finally falls, catching me on the shoulder on the way down. Physics and Mana-hardened pulp isn�t enough to overcome Sabre�s armor though, so all I feel is a hard and sharp pressure.

�Seven. Two on the flank, two breaking off to go after Lana, and three here with you. They really don�t like the Fireball spell,� Ali says helpfully, floating above the trees and watching the group. At this point, the monsters have given up on hurting him and have just concentrated on us, giving us at least one pair of unhindered eyes.

I need to take care of these guys before they get to my friends, but as I open up with another series of Fireballs, I realize the trio has spread out. Fireball�s an area effect spell, but spread out as far as they are, I�m just wasting Mana slinging the spell in their general direction.

Ilukin (Level 41)

HP: 1260/1893

MP: 392/577

A quick scan of the other two shows that the first opponent is the most damaged. As I catch another barb in the upper shoulder, pain flashes through my body again. Forced back behind the remnants of my tree trunk, I growl and think quickly about my options. Spells would be great and they certainly seem vulnerable, but my most effective spells are area effect. That leaves the Inlin, whose standard projectiles reflect off the barbs, or my sword, which requires me to get close.

The worse thing is that I�m the best equipped to deal with these suckers. Mikito�s entirely reliant on her melee attacks, and while Lana carries a beam rifle, it�s not her primary form of attack. I need to get attacking, and I need to do it now.

�Ali, Blink Step chain to Lana,� I snap as I poke my head around again.

I focus and Blink the distance to the monster, right above it. Sword in hand, I drop onto the monster, plunging my blade through barbed defenses that react a touch too late. I roll away, dragging the weapon through its body, and come up, triggering a Blade Strike the moment I�m on my feet.

Out in the open as I am, it doesn�t take long for his friends to fire on me. That�s why I didn�t drop straight into the fight immediately. Sabre�s shield stops the first few attacks, enough so that I finish off the Ilukin in front of me with a couple more quick strikes. After that, I duck and weave, using the bulk of the new corpse to hide me from attacks as I take on the other two. I work my way forward, always trying to keep the majority of the monsters unable to attack me, though these guys aren�t as worried about friendly fire.

By the time I�m done with my pair, a series of barbs stick through my body. I take a few seconds to pull and push them out as needed, groaning in pain and triggering a Healing potion. Cold relief floods through me before I look in the direction Lana and the puppies ran. A Skill activation later, I�ve ported closer. Ali�s already flying ahead of me, and I use his eyesight to bounce me closer to where Lana is, unable to spot her through the heavily forested woods. Being on the run as they are, the damage done by the Ilukin is more spread out, but it�s still a good way for me to track the group.

When I finally reach the group, Lana�s busy trading fire with one Ilukin while the dogs are attacking another in close combat. Anna has the majority of the monster�s attention as she wields whips of flame from her tail, tearing apart barbs that fire at her as she hops in front of it. Howard works the back while Wynn and Shadow rip into the monster from the flanks, ducking in and attacking whenever they see an opening. All the animals are moving slower, barbs tearing wounds wider with each attack, but they refuse to give up.

A split-second decision has me porting over to help Lana, appearing a few feet away from the monster even as my feet hit the ground, propelling me forward. I tuck down low, using the built-up momentum from running to hit it with my shoulder, my sword held out low and parallel to the ground. I hear barbs shatter and I feel the Ilukin�s body give way beneath me, but I don�t stop, pushing it forward until we smash into a tree. The impact jerks me to a stop, sending a jolt through my spine and making my head hurt before I dig my feet into the ground and twist, pulling the sword free and widening the wound.

Lana ignores us the moment I appear, instead adding her firepower to the puppies, coordinating her attacks with them in an entirely unnatural way. By the time I finish my monster, they barely need any help dispatching theirs, Anna delivering the coup-de-grace by shoving a bar of molten fire down the Ilukin�s throat. I Blink forward ahead of the group but stop halfway there when I realize the red dots that make up Mikito�s opponents are gone.

We find the samurai seated and leaning against an opponent, naginata laid out next to her, working on pulling a barb from her leg. Mikito�s so damaged, I can�t even spot a portion of her that�s uninjured. Cuts, scrapes, and puncture wounds abound, and the dark red of drying blood covers her completely, pooling around her body and staining the snow, slowly creating a bloody depression that Mikito sinks into. I stare at the young Japanese woman, who gives me a pained half-smile, waiting for her health to rise.

�How�?� I shake my head, wondering how either of the ladies did it.

�Stealth potion,� Mikito says.

�Smoke potions for the dogs,� Lana adds.

�Smoke?� I blink, and Lana nods.

�Turns them into smoke for a few minutes. Gave it to them to chug. They disappeared and waited while the monsters found me. They hit the trailer while I drew the lead away,� Lana finishes the explanation.

�And you?� I ask Mikito.

�Waited till they were next to me, then I attacked,� Mikito says, waving around the newly made clearing. �It was� tight.�

Tight. That�s one way to look at it. Tight. It�s a problem with only three of us. Even with Lana�s pets, we�re often outnumbered and out-leveled. We could really do with a few more party members, but Amelia�s too busy to come out often and Aiden refuses. That leaves us with no one else with the appropriate level, not in Whitehorse.

In the end, we have to make do with what we have, and that means some days, sometimes, we end up tight.

Chapter 10

I might have a certain resistance to the cold these days, and certainly within Sabre I�m often nice and toasty. However, that�s not true for everyone I hunt with. When the temperature hits -45�C before wind chill, even Lana flat-out refuses to go out, citing the very real possibility of death. It�ll be interesting to see how many of the monsters we�ve been dealing with handle the cold�some of the ones I�ve seen probably won�t survive the winter. Slimy and sticky might be powerful, but it isn�t particularly good when snowburn can happen in minutes. The Yukon can be a harsh, unforgiving place, and that�s without the rather strange changes the System has created.

Rather than spend my nature-enforced break hunting alone, I�ve elected to spend the day in Whitehorse. A morning lesson with Aiden has allowed me to understand how Mana can be woven into multiple strands at the same time, the precursor to dual-casting. Understand, if not do. That what he shows me is simple, something most Mages can handle without a problem with the aid of the System, doesn�t help when you�re actually trying to do it without the System�s help. Watching Aiden float five balls in the air and juggle them with ease, I can�t help feeling a twinge of envy as I fail to split my concentration even once.

That�s the problem with not being specialized, I guess. Never enough time to focus on any one thing. Aiden�s morning lesson and my current one are both good reminders of my weakness. Ali and I sit cross-legged on the rooftop of the flat while we slowly �explore� his Elemental Affinity of electromagnetic force. One of the four fundamental forces of the universe, it�s a major force that dictate how matter and energy interact. It creates many of the things we feel and see in everyday life�from magnetism to electricity to friction.

Funnily enough, that�s about as much as I understand about it�at least on the scientific level. When I tried to purchase further knowledge from the Shop, Ali bitched me out for hours. The way the Spirit put it, in this case, knowledge is actually a hindrance to using the Affinity. What we�re trying to do is perceive and understand the forces around us, then manipulate it directly. All the physics, all the theories are just numbers and figures, data that gets in the way of understanding. It�d be like trying to talk about the colors of a rainbow rather than opening your eyes. Explaining music rather than playing it. Watching a dancer rather than dancing.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Seated cross-legged on the rooftop, I breathe slowly with my eyes closed, the cold seeping in through the thermal bodysuit, threatening to rip away my concentration. I ignore it as I try to see the world around me through my Affinity. It would be easier and faster to use a skill like Mana Manipulation, but the point of this training is to bypass the System and its helping hands. And so I breathe.

Each time I catch it, it�s as if lines of power in all the colors of the rainbow surround me, shifting as the world shifts. Wind, light, heat, matter, it all shows up. Lines that radiate everywhere from everything at the same time. It�s so much that I can never hold the sight for more than a few seconds, the sheer variety staggering my mind and making me lose control.

Each time I fail, I calm my mind and try again. Hours pass, sunlight fading in and out as clouds shift and the world rotates. Each moment passes and each glimpse shows me a little more of the world, of the way Ali naturally sees it. It�s breathtaking in its beauty and staggering in its majesty.

And when I have a moment, I try to manipulate it. Just a little. A push here. A shove there. Attempting to alter the flows of force via will and a strange, tertiary muscle I barely understand. I am trying for more than just seeing the forces but understanding what I do when I make these changes, what each line of force means. It�s like trying to flex a muscle you�ve never consciously moved�a failure most of the time, but occasionally, occasionally, you think you might have done something.

You�d think that it would be frustrating. Infuriating. Yet those glimpses, those moments I catch, give me insight into something more, something greater than I�ve ever sensed before, a connection to the universe that I�ve never had. For all the mystical crap we talk about, this is the first legitimate example I have that they were right and everything is connected. And so, I find myself reaching, testing, pushing forward without hesitation.

Only Ali playing Ricky Martin�s �She Bangs� at full volume next to me pulls me away from training. When I stand, my muscles lock up, making me faceplant into the snow. Hours on a cold, barren rooftop without shelter has pushed even my enhanced body, and I find myself locked up, my body numb. I have to flex my muscles slowly and cast a Healing spell before I can move. As I do so, Ali flicks his fingers and gives me something else to study.

Elemental Affinity Improved

Well. That was nice. I find myself smiling even as my body reminds me of the stupidity of sitting outside in the cold. As my body slowly unlocks and I push past the pain, I find that I�ve spent more time on this than I meant to. As useful as this exercise was, I have more things to do. Time to get back to work.

Down the stairs and out, then back up, I find myself at the Shop. It�s been a while since I came here to really shop instead of just selling some loot or pick up pre-decided items. But my last run-in with my mysterious attacker has made it clear�I�m in need of an upgrade. I�ve been coasting on my previous load-out and Skills, but it�s obvious I need to rejigger something.

Not every Shop is the same. In fact, there are thousands, maybe even millions, of them throughout the System. Each Shop caters to different clientele, different funds and needs. Some are exclusive to specific groups or Guilds; others cater to specific tastes like droids, drones, melee weaponry, or more. Of course, I don�t know any of that when I first access the System Shop as Ali drags us into his preferred, exclusive shop, this marvel of blue.

The Shop I�m in starts with a simple set of reception counters that greets shoppers before they�re guided to their own private viewing rooms. In each viewing room, specialized screens show you the full range of products the Shop holds or has access to on short notice. You can even filter for the full range of items the System can access. Of course, in most cases, those items you have to buy directly from the System Shop are much more expensive�outside of things that only the System can provide, like Class changes or Skills, System information or secrets.

In my private viewing room, a humanoid Fox stands, clad in a purple bodysuit that covers two-thirds of its body and a sash that hangs across its front, covering the rest. It�s entirely unpractical, but I guess as a salesman, Foxy-boy isn�t particularly in need of practical clothing. Not here in the Shop, at least.

�And how may we help you today, Redeemer?� Foxy-boy asks.

I hesitate, and not just because of the title. I still don�t understand why some titles are used more than others. I�ve almost never heard anyone call me Monster Bane, but almost everyone from the System uses Redeemer of the Dead. If I had to guess, it�s due to rarity, but it�s not something I�ve bothered to dig into. It�s not as if it matters, beyond a little embarrassment.

�Can you watch something and give me some advice?� I say, and at his nod, I gesture to Ali.

A moment later, showing on the big screen is the fight between my mysterious attacker and me. While he�s busy watching, I take care of the usual housekeeping.

Concussion Grenades (10)

Effects: 50 Base Damage. Damage reduces depending on distance from explosion.

Cost: 100 Credits

Plasma Grenades (10)

Effects: 100 Base Damage. Damage reduces depending on distance from explosion. Chance of on-going fire damage

Cost: 150 Credits

Chaos Grenades (2)

Effects: Variable. Calls up one chaotic event with area of effect up to five meters from explosion point

Cost: 500 Credits

1,000 High-Explosive Rounds for Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle

Effects: 50 Base Damage

Cost: 150 Credits

100 Armor Piercing Rounds (Crafted) for Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle

Effects: 150 Base Damage

Cost: 50 credits

1kg of Assorted Swiss Chocolates (Individually Wrapped)

Effect: Reduces John Lee rage effects. Recommended consumption on regular basis.

Cost: 10 Credits

The last makes my lips twist in a wry smile. Having Ali as my System Companion with full access to my link means that occasionally, the damn Spirit throws in his own little notes. On the other hand, having had Mikito and Lana share some of the data screens they get, I�m more than happy with the trade-off. I wouldn�t want to wade through the occasional screens of gibberish they seem to have gotten used to.

Back to work. I keep purchasing, refilling my basic load-out. I rarely need to do this since, unlike most others, I can just dump extras into my Altered Space. By the time I�m done, Foxy-boy has finished reviewing the fight and is ready to talk.

�Suggestions?� I jump right into it, curious to see what he might add.

�Don�t fight people who have higher levels than you,� Ali says, smirking.

I glare at Ali, hoping to make it clear that this is serious. �Funny.�

�Well, Redeemer, if you are looking for certainty in beating your attacker, I fear you might not have the Credits for it,� Foxy-boy says before scratching at his hand/paw. �I do believe you are significantly out-classed.�

�I got that,� I say, tapping the screen. A second later, working to mental prompts, the screen shows the QSM.

Quantum Stealth Manipulator (QSM)

The QSM allows its bearer to phase-shift, placing himself adjacent to the current dimension

Effect: User is rendered invisible and undetectable to normal and magical means as long as the QSM is active. Solid objects may be passed through but will drain charge at a higher rate. Charge lasts 5 minutes under normal conditions.

Cost: 250,000 Credits

I definitely don�t have the money to repurchase the QSM. At 200,000 Credits, fixing up the broken QSM itself is cheaper, but it�s still not cheap. As much as I want my toy back, that�s out of the question.

I state as much before musing out loud, �He�s faster than I am. Probably has a Class Skill like Haste or its equivalent. He�s also more experienced and has better martial skills. Stronger than I am. If I had to guess, that�s his primary attribute. No spells used, but he didn�t need any. Might be he doesn�t have any. That polearm with his Skills is the killer though.�

�So we�re looking to either speed you up, slow him down, or keep him at range?� Foxy-boy says, tilting his head,

I nod slowly. �Yeah. Oh, and figuring out how the hell to see him before he hits me first. Or runs away if I�m winning.�

Ali snorts at the last. Yeah, fine. The chances of me being in a winning position is low.

�I think I can deal with that. I�ve got some Advancement Points left from your Level Ups. If we can get a few more Levels, I can focus on upgrading my abilities to scan for others,� Ali says.

�Instead of learning to project more music? No. That�s tragic,� I intone sarcastically.

�The sacrifices I make.�

I ignore Ali, turning to Foxy-boy who is staring upward at the ceiling. �Right, so what have we got?�

�May I see your Status Screen? It might help,� Foxy says.

�Done.� After sending it across, I take a second look at my own screen.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1620

Stamina

1620

Mana

1250

Mana Regeneration

92 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

153

Constitution

162

Perception

Intelligence

125

Willpower

127

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Instantaneous Inventory*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

After a while, Foxy-boy states, �You have not designated your last four Class Skills.�

�I was kind of holding off on using them till I hit Level 40 and the next tier opened up.�

�Mmmm� and you rarely upgrade Skills beyond their first tier.�

�Yes. I�m just really liking the versatility.� I shrug. �I mean, they�re all good.�

�True. But at higher levels, each Skill grows in power. Class Skills may also upgrade and achieve a breakthrough�a time when the continual improvement increases significantly,� Foxy-boy says and I blink.

I look at Ali, who shrugs. �Yeah, it happens. Except the lowest recorded level for a breakthrough is at ten points. Boy-o here has seventeen Class skill points in total, and with his Class, he ain�t ever getting that many,� Ali says, and I growl softly. Ali frowns at me for a time before he straightens up. �Shit. Sorry. Something else I should have told you about to let you decide on, eh?�

�Yes. Just a little,� I snap then close my eyes as I try to rein in my temper.

I try to remind myself that Ali has provided more information than he has withheld, that those without a Companion are still struggling to get basic information. This, none of this, is basic. It�s complex, detailed data that maybe someone who grew up with the System would know, but us humans don�t. It certainly wasn�t mentioned in Thrasher�s Guide, and I read that one all the way through. I tell myself I�m lucky, and it helps. A little. Mostly, it�s the slow breathing.

When I open my eyes, I find the screens filled with information. I take the time to look over the possible options available, starting with the Class Skills.

Class Skill: Haste

Effect: Increases effective movement speed of caster by 20% for duration of Skill use. Costs 1 mana per second.

Cost: 45,000 Credits

Class Skill: Slow Time

Effect: Creates a bubble of slow-time around the Caster, decreasing speed of all objects within the bubble by 10%. Area of effect is 5 feet in radius from caster. Costs 5 mana per second.

Cost: 55,000 Credits

Class Skill: Freezing Strike

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Costs 100 Mana to activate. Activation lasts for 1 minute.

Cost: 35,000 Credits

All powerful and they either speed me up or slow down my opponents. Biggest problem of course is the cost�not just in Credits, though that�s not cheap either, but in Mana. Theoretically, I could keep Haste up indefinitely with my current Mana regeneration rates, but then I�d be almost entirely reliant on my Mana pool. Not a great place to be, especially when I fight using my Skills and spells as much as I do.

On a whim, based off what I�ve just learnt, I pull up further information on my Class Skills.

Mana Imbue (Level 2)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with mana to deal more damage on each hit. +20 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Cost: 25,000 Credits

Blade Strike (Level 3)

By projecting additional mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 30 feet away. Costs 45 Stamina + 45 Mana to activate

Cost: 30,000 Credits

So purchasing the Skills is possible. It even actually adds a significant bonus and doesn�t cost me a Class Skill allocation point, which is something I�ve been trying to avoid wasting on the lower level Skills.

�Purchased Skills don�t count toward a breakthrough,� Foxy-boy says, cautioning me as I stare at them.

Figures. Still, I twitch my hands and pull up the two other Skills I haven�t actually upgraded yet.

A Thousand Blades (Level 1)

Creates two duplicate copies of the user�s designated weapon. Duplicate copies deal base damage of copied items. May be combined with Mana Imbue and Shield Transference. Mana Cost: 3 Mana per second

Cost: 40,000 Credits

Shield Transference (Level 1)

Portion of damage dealt to Soul Shield will be transferred as additional damage to Soulbound weapon. Current rate of transfer is 1 additional point of damage for 20 points received. Additional damage will fade after 1 minute. Mana regeneration is reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Cost: 85,000 Credits (Discounted to 45,000 Credits with pre-requisites of Thousand Blades)

I read over both and shake my head. As interesting as Shield Transference is, taking another hit to my Mana regeneration would suck. Admittedly, I�ve increased in Levels enough that my base regeneration rate is quite high, but it�s still not great. There�s another thing to consider too. I have four Class Skills free right now, but I�m Level 35. That means I�ve got eleven Class Skills left before I finish my current Class tree and have to advance to Master Class. I definitely want Sanctum, Body Swap, and Portal�Skills that provide me greater mobility and defense in general are powerful. Army of One is also quite interesting, but I�d have to purchase Thousand Blades for that. That means, at the very least, I�d have to spend five Class Skills to get a single point in each of these. That leaves me with six Class Skills free to distribute across all options. Playing with those numbers, I begin to understand why Ali didn�t bother to discuss breakthroughs�it�s just too many points to allocate to a single Skill.

I want to upgrade Portal because that�ll give me greater range and flexibility with the Skill. And Blink Step has become a go-to Skill, so of course that�s a must-buy. Add another point for Soul Shield which is, frankly, amazing at keeping my allies and myself alive and that cuts my �free� options down to three. Assuming I don�t want to upgrade Sanctum but I do Army of One because of its ability to dish out the hurt and I�m down to two free Skills. If I really want to make any single Skill more powerful and useful, I�d have to focus on it even further.

And that�s not to forget that the third tier opens at Level 40. Which means that if I want to get Sanctum, Body Swap, and Portal immediately, I need to have saved up at least three points. Still, knowing that I�m going to gain at least two more Class Skills between now and Level 40, I should be able to spend three points now. Which probably means that I should be buying A Thousand Blades and the next level of these�

Soul Shield (Level 3)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,500 Hit Points.

Mana Cost: 250 Mana

Cost: 55,000 Credits

Blink Step (Level 3)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Mana Cost: 80 Mana

Cost: 55,000 Credits

Both are great upgrades, one increasing the Shield�s hit points, the other reducing the cost of Blink Step. Considering I often trigger that Skill multiple times in a fight, the cost reduction is pretty damn useful. I could purchase both, but the penny pincher in me hesitates at the idea of spending all my �free� points. Better to keep at least one point free.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

�Let�s see what else you guys cooked up,� I mutter, looking toward the two who have been patiently waiting by the bowl of dip.

Ali doesn�t even move, just waving toward the screens.

Type II Webbing Mini-Missile

Base Damage: N/A

Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.

Cost: 500 Credits

�Not much information on that,� I say, flashing the screen.

�Can�t really go into too much detail. It�s a Type II, so it�ll hold your opponent for a few seconds at least. If it hits.� Ali shrugs. �If he isn�t too much stronger than you.�

I grunt, acknowledging Ali�s point. Damn System will make it so that he can break out eventually, whether or not it�d make logical sense. Still, this definitely has possibilities.

Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser

Base Damage: 25 per second

Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.

Cost: 25,000 Credits

Nice. Don�t have to aim this weapon, except in the general direction, which means if I can catch him before he closes, the son of a bitch will find it hard to escape the effects.

Pinzli Nano Cloud

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent on purchased effects)

Duration: 1 minute

Recharge Rate: 2 hours

Cost: 55,000 Credits

�The nano cloud is a bit different from your other choices here. Think of it as a dispersal and development mechanism. Once purchased, you won�t ever have to purchase it again�so long as it doesn�t break�as it rebuilds the cloud itself. However, the cloud itself does nothing. You need to purchase the programming to make the nanites act,� Foxy-boy says, and I nod slowly. �You can have it dispense toxins, invade and damage individuals and items within the cloud, increase or decrease temperatures, or apply electrical current. The possibilities are endless, if expensive.�

I grunt, staring at the cloud with desire. I don�t even need to look at the cost of the programmed effects to know this is too expensive for me. Seeing my face, Foxy-boy waves, dispersing the screen before bringing up the next.

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle Lightning Armor Upgrade

Effect: Deals 15 damage per second on contact with armor

Cost: 12,500 Credits

�Cheaper because we�ve got the Adaptive Upgrades for the armor. We just need to get a small portion of it purchased and Sabre will do the rest,� Ali explains. �Figure if you�re going to get hit, you might want to hurt back.�

�Not bad�� I say.

There are a few other tech options available, mostly variations on the theme�stand-alone or integrated weaponry to slow down opponents or damage them at range or hurt them when they�re close. Costs range from the cheap but barely effective at 10,000 Credits to the 90,000-plus Credit options which would nearly wipe me out. I flick through them for a time before I turn to our last category. Spells.

Spell: Haste

Effect: Increases effective movement speed of caster by 10% for duration of Spell.

Mana Cost: 100

Spell Duration: 1 minute

Cost: 35,000 Credits

Spell: Slow Time Bubble

Effect: Creates a bubble of slow-time decreasing speed of all objects within the bubble by 10%. Casting range of 50 feet.

Mana Cost: 500

Spell Duration: 1 minute

Area of effect: 12 feet

Cost: 50,000 Credits

�Hey, that Slow Time spell. It�s not centered?� I say.

�Nope. It�s more flexible, but it�s a lot more expensive and you aren�t automatically excluded from the Class Skill. You can also miss since the bubble doesn�t move once cast,� Ali explains.

�Still, that�s pretty sweet.� It�s a powerful spell, but the Mana cost is tremendous.

Scanning down the list of spells, I find the usual variants. After a few seconds, I can tell that most are just variations of the Class Skills we�ve already considered. The tradeoff is often in terms of higher Mana cost and casting time, but the spells are often cheaper to buy and more flexible to use. The Haste spell, for example, can be cast on others, a Web spell could be dispersed at a caster�s command, and on.

I don�t know how long I spend reading over Spells, which trigger ideas for Skills, which are then countered by potential technological options. Hours going over data. And that�s the reason why I try to avoid coming in here too often. You could spend days, weeks even, trying to figure out the best option, the best �build� as Jason would say.

There�s only one problem. There�s a saying that an army is always getting ready to fight the last war. As much as I�ve prepared, I wonder what the next fight will bring. And what he might have up his sleeve.

In the end, worrying won�t get me anywhere. The future is uncertainty. Better to make a decision and go with it. Turning to Foxy-boy, I start talking and pointing.

Chapter 11

There was a book once that said that to become a master at any one thing, you needed ten thousand hours of practice. Not just any kind of practice, mind you, but concentrated, focused practice. Practice where you focused on learning, rather than just doing the same thing again and again. Ten thousand hours. That�s a lot of time�years, decades even�of pure, focused concentration.

Imagine this, if you can. You are on the roof of your apartment, practicing in the dark with only the light of the moon above and reflected light from pristine snow below, cold air biting at your lungs with every breath. You swing your hand from the right and summon your Soulbound weapon into your hand two-thirds of the way to the target as you�ve practiced hundreds, even thousands of times. The weapon appears and alongside it are two identical swords, trailing the first weapon�s path by about a foot, like after-images of a strike.

You hit the target and follow-through all the way before you unsummon the weapon so that you can call it to your other hand, which is already striking to the top of the head. Except you now have to make sure you only banish the original weapon, otherwise the duplicates never finish their strikes. Of course, that means you should remember to banish those other two when they�ve finished their first strike so they may follow up with the second cut you throw.

Oh, and don�t forget that the floating weapons are moving on predetermined paths that you have no ability to alter. Take a step too far, twist your body the wrong way, be a touch too slow when you banish a weapon or be too fast and you�re now inflicting damage on yourself.

Now try to focus on all these things and ignore the giggling of a highly amused petite Japanese woman and an olive-skinned, shoulder-padded Spirit.

�Enough already!� I snap at Mikito, banishing all three weapons and releasing A Thousand Blades, letting my Mana regeneration refill my pool. I growl, rubbing the latest cut to my knee, my workout clothes stained with blood. �You were supposed to be helping.�

�Sorry!� Mikito says and bobs a short bow. By the time she comes up, she�s smoothed out her face at least. If you weren�t Asian and used to reading repressed emotions, you probably wouldn�t catch the tightness in her eyes or the humor lurking in their depths. �It just��

�It looked like a three-day-dead Goblin attempting to dance on an electric wire,� Ali supplies.

I growl but have to admit, even if only privately, that the last half hour has been less than impressive. I can get the first and second strikes in about fifty percent of the time, but after that, everything becomes a flurry of swinging iron and blood. Keeping track of all the different blades, what�s called forth and what�s not is nearly impossible, even if all I�m trying to do is forms.

�Too much,� Mikito says, waving toward where I am.

�I know,� I say.

She shakes her head, pausing to find the words. �You�re doing too much. The Skill is new. When I learned Haste, I focused on just moving, not fighting. Once I knew how to move, I added turning it on and off in bursts. Only later did I add fighting.�

�But��

�Mikito�s right, boy-o. Stop using the Honor Guard sword technique. Keep the sword summoned, focus on getting used to having the blades trail along. Maybe even get used to using the summoned blades as additional weapons,� Ali says.

�I don�t have time�� I snap my mouth shut. Right. I asked Mikito to come out into the cold for her suggestions. Arguing with her after I asked her for her advice is stupid. It�s just that I can feel the pressure, the need to get my Skills working fully. And that�s not her. That�s all me.

�We good?� Mikito asks.

I nod slowly. I rub my neck for a second then pull out a piece of chocolate, popping it into my mouth as I walk back to my training spot. The smooth, silky feel of melting chocolate and the rush of sugar perks me up a bit, reminding me that not everything has to be solved immediately.

The next hour plays out better. In the corner of my mind, I note that Mikito has started training herself, only partly paying attention to my progress. I know that she feels the cold, that it�s hurting her and damaging her body with each second. She doesn�t have the resistances I do. Yet Mikito is ignoring it, letting the System regenerate the damage while she trains. It�s a level of dedication I find intimidating and drives me to push myself.

Wielding three blades that aren�t connected to one another is strange, but now that I�m not making them appear or disappear, it�s easier. I don�t run into them as much. I just need to change the timing of my strokes and attacks and occasionally my positioning. Follow-throughs that would work before don�t, but the addition of the other blades open up more possibilities.

It�s a fascinating hour that�s interrupted by the increasingly loud voices from below. Something in the tone, in the phrasing twigs a corner of my mind and I find myself walking to the edge of the roof. I�m soon joined by the short Japanese woman, her naginata held casually by her side.

Beneath us, one of Roxley�s guards is speaking to a human couple. He�s turned away from us, so I can�t read his lips and he�s not shouting, so we can only catch occasional words.

�� speak to� our fault. Can�t� we are��

�FUCK you. You bought the city, you should fix it,� the woman of the pair shouts. The man has a hand on her arm, but his bladed stance to Roxley�s guard is not exactly defensive. Whatever his reply, it�s drowned out by more cursing from the woman, her wide gesticulations throwing off the man�s arm. �It nearly ate me. How the hell are you keeping us safe? The children were playing with that rat yesterday. It was the size of the toddler!�

�� bought a ��

�We bought a house. Our house is right over there!� the woman screams, pointing in the direction of the river. �You couldn�t defend it. You just ran like cowards. Now it�s gone and I�m living with a damn Indian! He smells even worse than the cows do.�

My lips twist and I almost step forward to drop down and have words with her. It�s only Mikito�s hand on my arm that stops me.

�We aren�t going to be of help here,� Mikito says. �She�d just scream about us foreigners butting in.�

I grunt but step back, forcing myself to walk away. The guard can handle it�it is, after all, what they�re paid to do. Stepping in now will just make the woman think she�s getting ganged up on, which will raise the stakes for her. Sometimes, the best thing you can do is nothing.

�You done?� I say, seeing Mikito walk to the roof exit.

She nods, and as the voices from below continue to bombard the roof with colorful and highly anatomically impossible language, I find myself following the short Adventurer.

�You�re nearly Level 50,� I state as we take the stairs.

Mikito bobs her head slightly.

�Do you know what Advanced Class you�re going to get?�

�Chukanbushi,� Mikito says. �Middle Samurai. It is an Advancement on my Aonisaibushi Class.�

�I thought your Class was Samurai,� I said, frowning.

�No. It is Aonisaibushi. Do you see it as Samurai?�

�Yes. I thought�� Well, actually, I never did mention it. I mean, why would I? It�d be like telling Mikito her hair was black. Superfluous.

�Sorry, boy-o. Translation error. I�m pulling up the Class data that Mikito provided and well, yeah. I see what I did wrong here,� Ali says, and in a moment, Mikito�s data changes.

�This happen a lot?� I ask Ali, who spins around in a circle while still seated and floating.

�Yes? Remember how I said I�m translating things from the System or Galactic? Well, don�t forget I�ve got to filter that through the information I inherited from you and what little data I�ve garnered since then. And the language downloads of course,� Ali says. �It�s not going to be one hundred percent accurate all the time.�

�No harm done, I guess.� I�m not even sure that the difference between each Class is as it stands, so having this information doesn�t really help. Looking back at Mikito, who has walked over to the kitchen to begin dinner preparation, I ask, �You happy with that?�

�Yes. It is suitable,� Mikito says, washing the rice.

�What kind of Class skills are you going to get?�

�Uncertain. It would either be a continual increase in my current abilities or an enhancement on other Skills that aren�t present now.�

�So your current Aoni� Aino� Junior Samurai Class gives you physical Skills like Haste, your weapon Skills like Cleave or Counter-Strike, and the physical enhancement Skills, right?� As I speak, I pull some chicken from my Altered Space storage and lay it out on the oven rack before grabbing paprika, pepper, and salt. I lean over to start the oven while I say, �So what�s not covered?�

�Armor and protection skills. Mental training and resistances. Riding skills. Archery.� Mikito puts the pot on the counter and sets up the cooker before she pulls meat out of her inventory and marinates it. �All those were traditional. If the System is calling from our history, even corrupted, it could be any of those.�

I grunt in acknowledgement, tossing the chicken a bit and dusting everything with a little bit of flour. I wonder, if the System is calling forth or adjusting some existing Classes to fit our history, is there a Eunuch class out there? Does it have specific requirements? And more importantly, why am I asking such questions?

�You okay with either of those options? Ali mentioned you can get some better specialized Classes if you worked for it.�

�This is a better Class,� Mikito points out. �I used the Basic Perk we received to upgrade it. And I looked into it�most of the other requirements are too difficult or impossible on Earth. Not as if I�m going to participate in killing a Dragon. Or visit all fourteen moons of Ryunii. Wherever that is.�

�It�s in�� Ali stops. �Right, rhetorical question.�

Vegetables next. It looks like a pink banana, tastes like a mixture of broccoli and chocolate, and is, most importantly, easy to prepare. I snap and toss the pieces into the bowl that Mikito has kindly laid out while we continue to speak.

�Any idea what Lana�s going to get? She�s a few levels below you, but��

�We�ve talked actually. Lana has some interesting options. She can either become a Beast Master (Advanced) or a Beast Lord. It seems to be a question of ownership versus partnership,� Ali pipes up this time. �The first option gives her more skills to expand her pets and control them. The second limits the number, but she can upgrade her pets more directly and make each puppy more powerful.�

�Any idea which way she�s going?� I ask, and Ali falls silent. �Ali?�

�I would have said Beast Lord before� but� Lana�s gotten cold, boy-o. Like, she-bitch level cold. I�m not sure anymore.�

�So I�ve noticed. Where is she anyway?�

They shrug. She hasn�t bothered to contact us since our initial discussion this morning, so we�re kind of working in the dark. Hopefully she�s resting. She certainly needed it. On the other hand�

On the other hand, there�s something there that will need to be dealt with. Soon. Just not today.

�How long can this weather last?� I mutter as we stomp through the snow.

It has been a week and a half of -30

and lower temperatures and it shows no sign of letting up. After the third day and having fought off a Swarm attack, Lana decided that she�d done enough waiting around. So out we went. It only took a few more days before the rest of the advanced and elite hunting teams decided that she was right. The cold isn�t going anywhere and the larder needs to be filled.

�A month maybe?� Lana says. She�d know, as the only native Yukoner in the party.

In fact, for Mikito and me, this is our first Yukon winter, and so far, I can safely say that it�s every bit as cold and dark as you could imagine. Sun�s up at nine and sets around five, leaving most of the day shrouded in darkness.

�Got another,� I say, walking over to the frozen ground squirrel.

I loot it before dropping the corpse into my Altered Space. Evolved as it was, the ground squirrel had gained a good three feet in height, but obviously the System hadn�t compensated for the additional heat-loss. Or at least, not enough, not with the temperature staying this low all day long.

�Not good,� Ali mutters, staring at his screens.

�Credits without fighting? How is that bad?� Lana says as we troop up the mountain.

Wynn bounds over, a corpse dragged along behind it, which is promptly looted by Lana before I store the corpse.

�The monsters keep the Mana flows balanced, just like the buildings do. Too many of them dying means Mana absorption is down. The System will adjust for that by adding more monsters, probably teleporting them right in. Or just forcing further evolutions of the ones already present,� Ali explains. �By now, most other areas would have found a decent balance to the kinds of monsters around. Sure, there might be Swarms hitting one place or another, but not that much.�

�So we�re going to see monsters that can handle the cold now? Ice Elementals and that kind of thing?� I ask.

�Maybe, but probably not. The System doesn�t care that much, but it�s not completely stupid. It�ll probably try to find close-enough analogues from other worlds. Farther North though, up in some of your mountains? Pretty sure you have them there already,� Ali answers.

Fun. As I reach out to touch the dead-looking fir to see if it�s lootable, I find myself slipping sideways from an unexpected impact. The damage is negligible, though I�m unable to see for a second as I push myself out of the white blankness covering me.

By the time I get out, Mikito is crouched behind another tree and the puppies have spread out, with Anna the center of attention as more balance-ball-sized snowballs come crashing down around us. Anna�s blazing red, flames flickering around the fox�s body and melting any snowball well before it hits her. She�s so hot, the ground beneath her furry feet has turned to glass.

Our attackers are a strange sight�so white they blend right into the snow-covered backdrop, barely four feet tall, and with scoops for arms. Round, tubby, and humanoid, their faces host only a single glowing crystal. Snowballs form above their hands before they cast them toward us with a swing of their arms. All in all, it�s like being attacked by a bunch of demented snow-children.

It takes me a moment to realize that Lana, having been attacked by multiple snow-children, has been buried in the snow. They keep piling on the snowballs so that she can�t get out. My own attackers have started in on me again, though with my foot braced against the tree, I weather the impacts much better. Of course, it doesn�t help with the snow piling up on top of me. Before I�m completely buried, I trigger Blink Step to flank our attackers. The dip in my Mana pool is less thanks to the recent upgrade, which is nice, though unnecessary right now.

On the other hand, since these guys are annoying but not immediately dangerous, this is a great time to test out some of my other new toys. I start with the sonic pulser, angled as I am so that I catch most of the snow-children in its area effect. When I raise my left hand, the pulser pops out of its recessed guard and lets loose a thrumming screech that sets my teeth on edge. And I�m behind the damn thing.

The snow-children scream, some falling to their knees, others clutching their heads. Only one manages to throw its ball at Mikito, who neatly dodges the attack. The Samurai darts up the hill in a Haste-assisted sprint that brings her up against the last few unstunned monsters and goes to work. I keep the pulser going, carefully keeping an eye on the over-use indicators, and thank the System that it actually worked. It�s only when I triggered it that I thought to consider if the lack of ears on the monsters would make this less useful.

�John. Stop!� Lana shouts through the coms.

That�s when I realize one of the negatives of this weapon. The pets are on the ground, paws held over their ears as they howl in pain. Even outside of the direct influence of the pulser, they are entirely unhappy.

Whoops.

Time to try something new. I skip using the rather expensive and new missiles, instead Blinking over behind the still-recovering monsters and triggering A Thousand Blades. I cut and move, leaving the duplicates to finish the job, the weapons trailing along as I disembowel, decapitate, and otherwise slaughter the monsters. Even as I move, I can�t help but note the more powerful glow around my sword as Mana Imbue�s second purchased level piles on the damage. It�s over in an artic breeze, such that by the time Lana finally frees herself fully and has calmed her pets down, we�ve already started looting.

�So. Cold,� Lana says through chattering teeth. She�s so close to Anna, I�d be scared of her burning up if I was her. Still�

Lana Pearson (Beastmaster Level 46)

HP: 183/350

MP: 476/590

Conditions: Frozen (-5 HP per second)

�You know, Lana, I know you got a bit cold recently, but this might have gone too far,� Ali says, floating next to her. Teasing aside, I see concern in his eyes.

A series of Heal spells helps slow down the damage, and the warmth from Anna brings Lana back to normal. Certain that she�s taken care of now, I glance at Mikito, who is staring into space. Even as I open my mouth to say something to her, the information above her head shifts.

Mikito Sato (Middle Samurai Level 1)

HP: 710/710

MP: 370/370

Conditions: Cold (-1 HP per minute)

�Congratulations,� I say as I pocket the last of the loot. Crystal Eyes. Kind of morbid if you think about it. Which I don�t. And won�t. Learning to compartmentalize things like that is the only way to stay sane in this crazy world.

�Thank you,� Mikito says, walking down to join us. At Lana�s puzzled glance, she explains. �I got my Advanced Class.�

�Good on you!� Lana smiles, flashing a much-missed grin as she walks over, her body only shuddering once in a while now, and gives Mikito a hug.

Mikito returns it awkwardly, before Lana steps away and gives Mikito another smile.

�That was new,� I say to fill in the silence after a while. I get rapid nods, the puppies moving around us to paw at the shattered remains while Anna curls up on bare earth, flames banked to nearly nothing. �You good to go, Lana?�

The redhead doesn�t even pause before she nods and gestures for us to continue. Right, more corpse looting and trouble hunting. Not as if we could be sitting in the Nugget around a warm cup of mulled wine or whisky.

Nine hours later, we�re finally tramping back into Whitehorse. Other than three quick stops for food, we�ve been pounding the snow, looting corpses and dumping them into my Altered Space. Sometimes I really hate having that extra space�if we were any other team, we�d have called it a day hours earlier.

Nine hours of tramping through the snow in freezing weather has shown the breadth of the damage the arctic chill has done. Monsters the size of a house, creatures made of stone, and furry lizards litter the frozen landscape, most not even touched by scavengers. Unsurprisingly, we find ourselves fighting a lot less, which disappoints Mikito, who wants to test out her new Skill. I have to say, I�m impressed. Each time she activates it, ghostly Samurai armor shimmers into being around her, adding a layer of protection. Unfortunately, it�s not particularly strong just yet�though Mikito says she intends to upgrade it with further Skill points. Which also explains her desire to fight.

Lana, on the other hand, doesn�t seem to care as much. If anything, I�d call her happy�happy to see the monsters dead, happy to loot them for their belongings, and happy to wander through the sub-alpine forests relatively unharassed. It�s why I don�t complain about how long our hunting trip has taken and am just grateful when we finally see the walls.

�Lana. Good to see you back,� one of the guards calls as they open the gates and drop the shields for us. The relief on the guards� faces is palpable.

�What�s up?� Ali says, flying right up to one guy, who shrinks back.

�Bill�s team is still missing. He should have been back already,� the original guard replies, brows furrowing. �Did you see them?�

�No. We were out pretty far to the north,� I say, turning unconsciously toward the way we came. �Which direction?�

�What are you thinking, boy-o?� Ali says, floating down beside me.

I purse my lips, debating. I don�t like Bill, but his people make up a core number of our hunting group. If they need help�

�Sorry, sir, they didn�t tell us,� the guard replies.

I grunt, knowing that once they hit the road, they could have spread out anywhere. And the Yukon is big. Even with our abilities to sense others, there�s no way for us to cover enough ground. Not and have a realistic chance of finding them. And it�s not as if I ever learnt to track.

Still�

�Here we go again,� Ali mutters.

Mikito says nothing while Lana sighs overly loudly before clicking her tongue, signaling the puppies to turn around.

Green eyes that once sparkled with humor lie flat and lifeless, staring at the sky. Blonde hair spills artlessly around her body, uncovering pointed ears. The hole through her chest is neat, almost surgical in its precision. I find myself brushing the hair away before I close her eyes and put Luthien�s body in my Altered Space.

�John?� Lana says, a hand on my shoulder.

I look up, blinking at tears that threaten my eyes. Stupid. She cheated on me. Dragged me up north. Dumped me. And yet I�m feeling a sense of loss that threatens to spill out in tears. I draw a deep breath, forcing it away. Stupid. Lana�s hand squeezes my shoulder, offering comfort.

�I�m fine. I�ll get Bill.� I stand to walk over to his body, and Lana lets her hand fall away as I do so.

Unlike Luthien�s, his death was more violent. Much more violent, his body missing an arm and a leg, his chest caved in and his face crushed and missing its lower jaw.

All around us, the signs of a massive fight are clear. The clearing around us for hundreds of meters is torn and destroyed, trees holed, undergrowth burnt away and snow melted. Yet for all of that, we�re missing two bodies. Around us, the puppies sniff and paw at the ground, searching out clues.

�This looks like your attacker�s work,� Lana says, gesturing around us.

I have to agree. We�re no forensic scientists, but we�ve seen enough combat to be able to read the clearing. The marks and attacks from a long-bladed weapon are clear. It�s no monster, that�s for sure, and that doesn�t leave us much. While the puppies and Ali scan for signs of the rest of Bill�s team, Mikito keeps watch.

�Yeah. I wonder�� I fall silent, not wanting to voice my suspicions.

�If he took out the other party?� Lana�s lips twist. �Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times��

�Pretty sure once was enemy action already,� I say, my voice hard. Not hard to guess who either. A newcomer since this just started happening recently. Someone with an extremely high level and immensely skilled to be able to kill this quickly.

A bark from Wynn has me looking at Lana, who nods. Right, best to find the other two. Even if all we can do is return their bodies to Whitehorse.

�You�re late,� Ingrid says as she fades in behind us.

Mikito snarls, her naginata stopping its swing inches from decapitating Ingrid. Not that the raven-haired First Nation woman looks excited.

�Sneaking up on friends isn�t nice,� I say, looking at the cave. �Luke in there?�

�I wasn�t expecting friends. Luke�s pretty cut up. Lost both his feet,� Ingrid says.

I grimace. �Well, we�ll put him on one of the puppies and we�ll head back.�

I take a closer look at Ingrid. Other than some torn-up armor and dried blood, she looks to be well. Which doesn�t mean much with our regeneration.

�What happened?� Lana asks as she climbs down Howard. Her hand comes up, the old caring redhead back for a second. The tightness in Ingrid�s face makes Lana�s harden too and she turns away, heading into the cave with Howard trailing.

�We were ambushed. Tall, lean bastard wielding a sword on a stick. A bit like yours, Mikito,� Ingrid says, answering the question even if Lana�s not here. �Appeared out of nowhere and killed Luthien first. One attack, right into her chest. We couldn�t hit him, not at first. He was too fast, too good. Bill� he let him cut him. Took the cut to his chest and hugged him close, let us get in our attacks. We hurt the bastard, hurt him good. Made him run off.�

Ingrid pauses, her breathing having grown hoarse. She starts up again soon after. �Couldn�t take their bodies. I took their equipment, then I took Luke with me. Thought he might be back after he healed, but I used my Skills. Hid us. Came here. I thought� I thought he would come back.�

Ingrid�s voice breaks and tears stream from her eyes. She�s hugging herself, the tension from the hours alone, waiting for an unstoppable attacker, finally breaking through her control. Ingrid sobs, dark hair spilling over her tanned skin. Then Mikito is there, holding the taller woman to her slight frame, patting her back. I watch for a second more before I turn away, the naked emotion too much for me.

�Can we track that son of a bitch now?� I say, finding refuge in my rage.

�Possibly. I�m dumping what I can into it, but there ain�t no way of telling till we run into him again,� Ali says.

�I want his head.�

�I know.�

Lana leads Howard out, Luke strapped to his back like a pack. The slightly portly hunter waves to me, his face grim as he dangles from the back, legless.

�Luke.�

�John,� Luke replies, his Quebecois accent strong and clear. �Thank you for coming for us.�

�Always.� I glance at the women.

He follows my gaze to where Lana has joined the other two before we both look away. From the tracks on his face, it�s clear Luke�s been doing some crying of his own. Not that I blame him but�

�I�m going to scout,� I say to no one before walking into the woods.

Better to let them have the moment to calm down, gather themselves. We�re quite a distance from safety and Ingrid was right�we could still be attacked on the way back.

Hours later, we�re finally back in Whitehorse. Mikito and Lana have taken the remainder of Bill�s group back to his place with indications that they might stay the night. That leaves me with the joyous duty of reporting to Roxley. Enhanced Constitution or not, I�ve been up for over twenty-five hours by this point, most of it tramping through the wilderness in temperatures cold enough to freeze a penguin, and I�m exhausted. Yet this needs doing, which is why I�m riding the too-fast elevator to Roxley�s offices.

Well, I see someone sleeps in the nude. My mind comes to a crashing stop as the doors slide open, the brief sight of a mostly naked dark Elf stuttering my brain. He�s busy belting the robe when the doors open, and for a moment, I regret the fact that the elevator wasn�t faster.

�John. What�s so urgent you needed to wake me?�

Roxley�s voice brings me back to my senses, and I answer. �Bill�s dead. So�s Luthien. My attacker�the halberd-wielder�found and killed them. Pretty sure he�s targeting the hunting groups now. I�m going to go and fuck them up now.�

�You cannot,� Roxley says, his voice filled with urgency and concern. �We don�t have proof.�

�We could buy it from the Shop. Hell, we don�t even need to. You know it�s them. I know it�s them. They know it�s them.�

�It would cost too much. And even if we did, what happens then?� Roxley says, putting a hand on my shoulder. �We can�t beat them. You can�t even beat the Weaponmaster. And if you attack them now, Labashi will step in. And that�s just the two of them. They�ve got an army waiting in the wings.�

�So we do what? Just wait for them to get around to killing us?�

He doesn�t respond.

�Roxley?� I ask, looking at the Tuinnar. Really looking at him, at the lines on his face and the worry that creases it.

�I don�t know. I don�t know,� Roxley says, his shoulders slumping.

�My lord?� Vir says, coming out of the elevator behind me.

I jump a bit, not having realized he�d arrived.

Vir�s fully dressed and looks disapprovingly at the two of us. �I believe the Redeemer has provided you the basics. I will debrief him further. You should rest.�

�Vir��

�My lord. You should rest,� Vir�s voice grows stern, like a teacher to a child.

Roxley twitches at the tone, yet he drops his hand from my shoulder and nods numbly, walking back to his room.

Vir turns to me. �Come, Redeemer. It seems we have much to speak of.�

�Vir��

�Lord Roxley is under a great deal of stress. He needs his rest,� Vir says.

I nod slowly, taking the hint and not pushing it any further. Not that I need to. It�s clear enough, even to me, that Roxley doesn�t have a plan.

Chapter 12

Even on the short walk to the Nugget from my flat, I can tell that the news of our most recent losses have spread. The few people who move through the twilight-lit streets move with hesitation, their shoulders drawn in and eyes flicking from side to side, trying to see all the threats that aren�t there. Those who are on the streets move fast, a shuffle-walk that would make a speedwalker envious.

The pub is filled, people huddled around and speaking in hushed tones over pitchers of Apocalypse Ale. The Yukon Brewing�s own hand-crafted beer would put down an elephant and is just about strong enough to give a System-registered human a buzz. My entrance to the pub elicits more than a few stares, side conversations, and in a few cases, accusatory glares.

I grab a seat where I can find one, ending up nearly smack-dab in the middle and alone. No idea if my team will be making their way here, but until they do, I get to weather the stares and disapproving looks. The stares I�m used to; the disapproving looks are a bit more of a puzzle. It�s not as if I could have done anything to save them�not more than I did anyway. Long-range communication continues to elude us. Our current technology isn�t good or powerful enough to cut through the woods, the hills, and the snow. The closest thing readily available would be a Skill, but even that is limited by range and the requirement that everyone connected has it. Eventually we�ll be able to add repeating towers and maybe even System-registered satellites, but that�s well in the future and a lot of Credits that we don�t have.

I�m just starting on breakfast when someone finally gets the courage to say something to me directly. The self-elected troublemaker is short, with buzzcut hair and an aggressive stance. �What are you doing about this?�

�Hmmm�� I frown, putting my utensils down and looking at the man. A quick glance gives me his name, which I promptly forget, and his level, which I do remember. 28. Not horrible, but not great. �Do about what?�

�They�re killing us. I heard it�s the Elves killing us, hunting us down and killing us! What are you going to do about it?� He jerks his head forward as he speaks.

I mentally sigh, staring at the man. I know what he�s really asking, why he�s asking. Even someone as emotionally stunted as I am can tell�he�s scared and he wants someone, anyone to fix it. The fact that I�m one of the leading, if not the leading, human combatant means it�s up to me. For all my understanding, I want to tell him to bugger off�that the problem is as much his as mine. That no solution I come up with would be possible without further help. That they need to keep going out, training and fighting and leveling. I could, I want, to say all that and more. But it wouldn�t help him. Or anyone else who is staring at me, listening in.

So I finally say, �I�m working on it.�

�You�re working on it! Working on it!?!� Crewcut splutters, rage suffusing his face.

�Yes. It�s complicated��

�Doesn�t seem complicated to me.� This time, it�s a larger man, somehow managing to keep the chub on his body even after the System. �They�re killing us because we ain�t kicked out that Tuinnar. We kick him out, they leave us alone.�

�Then what?� I ask, staring at Chubster. �They come in and take over, right? Is that what you want?�

�Does it matter? They ain�t human anyway,� Crewcut says.

�Roxley has been fair to us. Hell, he barely even taxes us beyond the Shop. You sure you want to trade the devil you know for one that�s willing to kill to get their way?� I watch the rustle my words generate. If they want to assume the Truinnar are doing the killing �and I don�t blame them, I�m assuming that too� then I might as well ask the hard question.

�We can�t fight them, and they�re just going to keep killing us. Better to be alive than dead,� Chubster says.

�Really? I think you�re being a bit unimaginative there,� Ali pipes up, shaking his head. �Torture, slavery, serfdom, being a second-class citizen.�

As Ali speaks, I stand and raise my hand, forestalling any further words from the Spirit. I let my gaze travel around the area, meeting various eyes, and pitch my voice to carry. �Look, I�m going to tell you this straight. Things are bad and it�ll likely get worse before it�s over. I�m doing what I can and I will continue doing so. But all of you are going to have to decide what you want.

�Roxley�s given us free rein to chart our own lives, to grow and level at our own speed and pace. He�s let us buy our own houses, make the city our own as best we can in this System-ridden world. You can choose to support him. Or you can roll the dice and hope the Duchess is better. She sure hasn�t promised anything better from what I hear.

�Decide whichever you want. You�re all grown-ups. Just realize you�re going to have live with them.�

I shut up and sit down, turning back to my meal. When Crewcut opens his mouth to say something else, Sarah cuts him off with a hand to his arm and a smile. The pretty and visibly pregnant young waitress pushes him back to his seat, eyes glinting with malice. Crewcut only needs one look at her eyes to decide that he�d rather not engage with her.

Just like that, the confrontation is over and I return to my meal and my thoughts. One thing they have right�we don�t seem to have a solution, a way out of this. Neither Roxley, the council, nor myself see a way that doesn�t involve losing. I chew on my meal, the taste ashen as I try to piece together a real plan, something, anything to break this Gordian Knot.

I�m nearly done with breakfast when Minion comes walking into the Nugget, his entrance letting in some of the cold winter air. The suited politician stumps over to where I polish off the last of my bread, and he glares down at me. I take my time, swallowing my latest mouthful and draining my cup of coffee before I look at him.

Surprisingly, Minion doesn�t look annoyed. Eric just stares at me, perfectly serene and patient before he speaks. �We�d like some of your time, Mr. Lee.�

�Well, if you asked so nicely,� I say.

Ali, floating beside me, twitches a hand and pays for our food, sending the Credits to the Nugget�s account. Extremely convenient.

Minion leads the way to a boardroom in the old city hall where a group of worried human counselors sit, speaking in hushed tones that stop the moment we walk in. All the usual suspects are there, from the matronly Miranda to silver-haired Norman, as well as some of the more prominent members of our business and hunting groups. Jim offers me a quick nod as I step in, and I return it before facing Miranda.

�John, we heard about Bill and his group. However, we�d like to hear about it directly from you,� Miranda says.

I nod. Fair enough that they�d want it from the horse�s mouth. I quickly give them a summary of what we found and discerned, along with the good news that at least two of his party survived. When I finally wind down, the silence in the room is heavy.

�Those son of a�� Jim breaks the silence, fist clenched.

�Jim,� Miranda says, cutting off the old hunter.

He growls, and she meets his eyes. There�s an exchange of information there, one that I�m not privy to, but it is enough to make Jim slump backward into his chair, arms crossed. Miranda turns to me when she�s sure Jim is done.

�You said there were no signs of who did this?� Miranda says, and there�s an intensity to her words and gaze.

I weigh the unspoken command in my mind, balancing what Roxley said as well, and finally answer. �None.�

�That is unfortunate,� Miranda says, sharing a glance with Jim and Eric.

�We will need to take additional precautions when sending out hunting groups,� Eric says, rubbing his chin.

A mental snort from Ali echoes my own thought on this.

�What can they do? That Weaponmaster can kick any of the other hunting groups� asses without breaking stride,� I send to Ali.

�Well, if it�s the Weaponmaster, they can tie him and the Envoy down with events. So long as the teams don�t go too far, they can still be contacted too, so if something goes wrong, we can pull them back,� Ali sends.

I find myself nodding, which gets more than a few curious glances shot my way.

�Very well, Eric, I�ll leave you and Jim to deal with that.� Miranda turns to me, fixing me with a straight look. �What has Lord Roxley said of this?�

�Vir debriefed me, and I�m sure Roxley�s getting briefed in detail too,� I say. �I�m sure he�ll look into it.�

�His enemies are targeting us, and you think he�ll look into it?� Eric�s voice drips with derision.

�Yes, I do.� I let my gaze wander over the angry and scared group and wonder if a variation of my previous speech would work. I don�t think so though�this group, emotional as they may be, has it under control. So time to roll the dice. Even a little bit. �But that�s the wrong question you�re asking.�

�Oh? And what would the right question be?� Norman says, fingers steepled in front of him.

I flash the silver-haired boomer a smile. �What happens when Roxley isn�t our lord anymore.�

�Well, the attacks stop for a start,� Norman says.

�That�s nice. Though when the bully takes his foot off your throat, you don�t normally thank him. What else?�

�Well, they�ll upgrade the city to a Town of course,� Eric answers, waving. �The city is no use to them as a Village.�

�Which we�re about to do by ourselves anyway.�

�John, if you have something to say, say it,� Miranda says, irritation clouding her voice.

�Nothing much. Just the fact that if you intend to do what I figure you�re thinking of, perhaps you should take some time and think about what will happen,� I say.

�Maybe spend some Credits, find out what�s happening in other cities,� Ali adds.

Miranda nods calmly while Eric sneers at Ali. I let my gaze roam around the room, gauging the mood and seeing that while the people might still be quiet and terrified, they look more thoughtful now too. Maybe, just maybe, what I�ve said has done some good. After confirming there�s nothing more they want with me, I leave on that thought.

That, and the knowledge that unless we figure out an actual, workable plan, we�re arsed anyway. It�s one thing to say we shouldn�t give in, and another to watch your friends die one by one.

Two days later, I�m finishing up my breakfast when a knock resounds off my door. Standing in the doorway is Vir, trying to look stern and implacable as always. However, I�ve spent enough time around him and his kind to read the lines of tension in his body and the wrinkles near his eyes.

�John, your presence is required.� Vir says.

I nod. I glance around the room, noting that there�s nothing for me to grab, and follow him out. In short order, he�s led me up Main St. to the City Center. Interestingly enough, Lana�s pets are seated outside the City Center, giving hint of what is to come.

Lana and Mikito are with Roxley in his offices, tension radiating from everyone. Behind the seated Lana is Amelia, one arm casually resting on the butt of her gun and looking thoroughly displeased.

�What�s going on?� I send to Ali, who grunts.

�I�m asking,� Ali says. �Doesn�t look good, does it?�

I repeat the question aloud while waiting for Ali�s answer.

Roxley�s face grows tighter for a moment before he replies. �Ms. Pearson has betrayed us.� He continues, cutting me off before I can. �As you know, she is a major landowner in town. As I got ready this morning, I was alerted to a sudden drop in the stability of the city�s Mana flows. It seems Ms. Pearson sold her buildings back to the System.�

�Lana?� I ask her, shocked by the news. �Why?�

�I needed the Credits,� Lana says, not daring to meet my eyes.

�So she has stated. However, the sale of System-owned lands back to the System is significantly lower than a resale to another individual,� Roxley says.

I remember that now, having sold the Key to Haines Junction to the System myself. It was a cents-on-the-dollar kind of thing.

�What do you have to say for yourself?� I look at Lana, hoping she has an explanation.

Lana sits there in silence before she looks up, defiance in her eyes. �I had a contract with the Envoy. If I sold my land to the System, they would give me the full purchase price for it and twenty percent of its worth and I got to keep what I received from the System too.�

I closed my eyes. So. She did betray us. �What percentage are we at?�

�66%�

�And before?�

�We lost 7% through her sale. We lost another 6% from others.�

�She�s not the only one,� I state, meeting Roxley�s eyes, and he slowly nods.

�They approached most others who had residences in Riverdale and made the same offer,� Vir explains.

�So why is Lana being singled out here?� I ask pointedly.

�Ms. Pearson was the single largest landowner who took advantage of the offer. And through her control of your foundation, she might be able to affect us by another eleven percent,� Vir says.

I frown, staring at Lana before I speak slowly. �Are you Contracted to sell the foundation assets?�

�No!� Lana snaps. Amelia behind her stirs a bit then stills when Lana doesn�t make any threatening moves. �I wouldn�t do that to you.�

�But you would sell your land, knowing what it means for the city,� Roxley says, his voice filled with disapproval.

�It�s my land,� Lana states again.

�You could have sold it to me. Or anyone else,� Roxley said. �Instead, you destroyed our ability to become a Town.�

�Lana, why did you need the Credits?� Mikito asks.

Roxley stays silent, his jaw flexing as he works through his emotions. Lana shuts her mouth, refusing to say.

�Ms. Pearson, your reluctance to answer is not helping your case,� Vir grates out while Lana�s lips tighten.

�I think I can help�� Ali sends to me. I�m surprised. He normally just jumps in, but for once, he�s hesitant.

�Go ahead. Can�t make it worse.�

�Har!� Ali floats down to her. �Lana. I know what you�re trying to buy. I can say it or you can. Truthfully, it�ll sound less crazy coming from you.�

Okay. Maybe I was wrong. Lana stares at Ali, her lip curling upward in disdain, but she stays silent.

�Lana was looking over the details for resurrection in the Shop, searching for a way to bring Richard back. She hit upon the Frinkzin Replicas,� Ali says.

His words draw indrawn breaths from Vir and Roxley.

�Can the System bring people back to life?� I frown, not entirely sure how I feel about that idea. It seems impossible, but so much of our lives are impossible that I can�t discount it entirely. For a moment, hope blossoms in my heart and I move to squelch it�there�s always a price for things like that.

�Sorry, boy-o. Dead is dead,� Ali says. �Frinkzin Replicas are one of many attempts to get around that. Not the worst, since Richard�s rotten enough that I guess Lana decided against the reanimation option. The Replicas pull data from the System and upload it to an artificially created body.�

�Oh my God, Lana!� Amelia gasps while Mikito looks ashen, staring at Lana in horror.

�You don�t��

�Don�t you dare. This, this will bring him back.� Lana�s voice grows shrill as her nose flares. �I�ll bring him back and we�ll be� we�ll be fine.�

�Not so much, toots. Frinkzin Replicas aren�t the people who left. Even individuals who lived their whole lives in the System aren�t made properly. Aren�t made right. The System can only register actions. Words. Events. It doesn�t understand, doesn�t record motivations, reasons, choices,� Ali says. �The monsters that came out of the Replica creation�and they were almost all monsters�were what got it banned.�

�Richard�s no monster!� Lana snaps, her fist closing.

�No. But his Replica would be. Think, Lana. What does the System know? That he owned pets. That he used them to kill monsters. That he hunted and let the pets eat their kills. That he chose to fight instead of running,� Ali states. �Our lives, your lives, in the System, it�s all about death and fighting and leveling. The monsters that come out of the process�that�s all they do. They can�t, won�t, care. They just kill and level and often don�t make a distinction.�

Lana shakes her head, refusing to listen to Ali. He growls, floating upward while Roxley and Vir trade glances again.

Finally Roxley steps forward and squats next to Lana. �The Tuinnar have many experiences with the resurrected. With those who would bring back the dead. We live for hundreds of years with the System, but that is often not enough.� Roxley pauses, his hand opening and closing unconsciously. �Four hundred fifteen years ago, we fought a war across all our holdings because a son could not give up his mother. The Tuinnar no longer allow the dead to be raised, in any form or visage. Only grief comes with their resurrection.�

�I don�t care. I just want him back,� Lana says, fingers digging into her arms. The sharp smell of blood cuts through the air, bitter iron on our tongues.

�Perhaps, but who will you sacrifice for that?� Unlike the rest of us, Vir�s voice is hard, caustic. �Will you let him kill Mikito? Andrea? The children? Who are you willing to sacrifice for your selfish desires?�

�I won�t let him do that,� Lana says bitingly.

�Will you kill him then? Frinkzin Replicas are notorious for lacking a sense of self-preservation. Once they begin, they will not retreat,� Vir says. �You will have to choose: an innocent or your �brother.��

�Stop it!� Lana shouts at Vir, standing up swiftly and glaring at the Tuinnar. �Just stop it.�

�Or will you let us kill him? Because I guarantee you, Lord Roxley and I will not see such a creature in our city.�

�I won�t let you kill it. Him,� Lana says, correcting herself almost immediately. Yet I can see the way her eyes dart from side to side, the increased respiration and the white-knuckled grip as her careful control gets pushed further.

�You were right the first time,� Ali says. �We Spirits don�t really get into this entire soul business, but calling a replica soulless would be pretty damn accurate.�

Again, silence. I gritted my teeth, before I spoke again. �Lana, think of Richard. Do you really think he�d want you to bring him back and hurt those he loved. You? Mikito? His children? Think about how much damage you�ve done already, doing this.�

�Enough!� Lana says, her voice breaking. �I just� I just want my brother back. I don�t want to be alone anymore.� The last is said barely above a whisper.

Mikito pushes forward until she�s in front of Lana, then she enfolds the larger woman in her embrace. The tiny Asian murmurs something in Japanese, words that no one else understands, but it doesn�t matter. It doesn�t matter because it�s her tones, her presence that makes the difference. Lana finally breaks down, harsh sobs erupting from her throat as she holds on to Mikito.

I watch this, a lump in my throat, and I curse myself. I missed it, missed the depth of Lana�s pain, of her need. I missed it not because I wasn�t looking but because I wasn�t willing to confront her about it. To push it. And now, we�re here. All I can do is watch, unshed tears burning my eyes as I wait.

In time, Lana stops crying and pulls herself together. Mikito pushes away, and Amelia hands them tissues. There are a few quick, slightly embarrassed smiles before I find myself fixed with glares by all three women.

�What?� I say, blinking.

�Idiot.�

�Baka.�

�Oh, John��

�What?� I state again.

�Redeemer, you are hopeless. Handsome, but hopeless.� Roxley sighs, coming back from the corner where he and Vir have been working quietly while waiting for the group to get themselves sorted.

�That�s my boy-o.�

�Ms. Pearson, am I to believe that you have given up on your plans?� Roxley says.

Lana slowly nods. I stare at her, wondering if we can believe her. It�s strange�I�ve never asked her what she believes in for the afterlife. Yet her choices here are insane, more so when you consider the fact that she might have believed in souls. Grief makes us do stupid things, and from experience, it takes more than just a single crying session to get over it. It�s unlikely she�ll do it and I hate to doubt her, but�

�Ali��

�I know. I�ll keep an eye out for purchases.�

�Good. I must admit, I would feel more comfortable if you did not have access to the foundation and its resources,� Roxley says before his shoulders slump. �It does not matter that much, I guess. We will not be able to meet the requirement in time. Not now.�

Lana winces, opens her mouth, then shuts it before she adds, softly, �I�m sorry. I�ll give up control of the foundation if you want. I can�t even buy any more land, not in Whitehorse. It was one of the stipulations.�

�That�s it then? They�ve won?� Amelia cuts in, glaring at all of us.

�What can we do?� Roxley says, shaking his head. �The taxes on my lands are coming due and I have not the funds for them. Even if I sold all my gear and released my guard, I cannot cover both the taxes and the shortfall in land. And if we somehow miraculously managed to become a Town, we would have no defense against Labashi and his people.�

Of course, that elicits a quick discussion of people asking what taxes and lands he�s talking about. It doesn�t take long, but at the end, everyone is depressed with the realization that they�re coming for us every way they can.

�And you�re going to give up?� Amelia says, leaning forward and glaring at us with fists on ample hips. For a moment, I�m back in grade school, being told off by Ms. France for sticking another eraser up my nose.

�We are not giving up. We will do our best, but we cannot win on this path,� Vir says, a hand held out placatingly to Amelia.

�Then change the path!� Amelia says.

�We�re trying. Lord Roxley and I have attempted to contact our allies for aid and Credits to no avail. We have begun to speak to less savory organizations as well. We are trying,� Vir states while Roxley�s lips twist.

Mikito is crouched next to Lana, who has retaken her seat, a hand on her knee while the redhead looks guilty.

�Your liege, he raised your taxes knowing you could not pay it?� Mikito says slowly, searching out Roxley�s eyes. Black eyes meet, and on the confirming nod, Mikito continues. �A liege who does not reward the loyalty of his citizens has no honor. In turn, he is owed none any further.�

Roxley frowns, meeting and weighing something in Mikito�s eyes.

It�s Lana who asks the question we humans all carry. �Aren�t you samurai all about, you know, following your lord till death?�

�And where did that lead us?� Mikito shakes her head. �The samurai aren�t, weren�t, as� Hollywood as you believe. The code of Bushido that is in the movies, it was not as universally accepted as they would have you think. Loyalty is important, but it is only one aspect of the code. And Lord Roxley has obligations to his people too.�

I shut my mouth, clamping it tight. Right. I kind of feel like an ass for forgetting that stereotypes are just that�generalizations that might hold some truth, but lie just as often. I should know better�not every Chinese man knows martial arts and can�t roll their Rs.

�Ms. Sato, you have given me much to think about.� Lord Roxley executes a formal bow to her, which has me raising an eyebrow.

Mikito nods back to Roxley.

Ignoring the byplay, Amelia snaps, �It still hasn�t fixed our problem�we�ve got a bunch of murderous assholes coming to take over our city. I�d almost rather see the city burn than let them take it.�

�That�s helpful.� Ali snorts, spinning upside down. �Let�s just burn the town, salt the earth, and invite a bunch of Goblins to stay too. That�ll stop them. Not.�

�Ali, stop flying. And we�re not burning the town�� A nagging thought pushes against my mind, forcing me to trail off. Something. Something� flying. Burning�

�Redeemer��

�Shh�.� Lana shushes Roxley as she stares at my face. �He�s thinking.�

�Oh, hell. Not again,� Ali says.

But I barely hear them as I try to find what it was that was niggling the back of my mind. Something�

Oh.

�I think I�ve got a plan. Well, sort of. Maybe.�

Chapter 13

Completing the basics preparations takes two days. Two days of scrambling and sneaking around, of putting plans into play and talking to the right people. Two days of cajoling, threatening, and otherwise speaking with old friends and new enemies.

I find the mage late at night, looking tired and grumpy after he finished another private lesson. His long hair looks a touch greasy and unkempt, released from its manbun as he shook it out while the student ambled out. I don�t think I improved his mood.

�What are you doing here?� Aiden says.

�Looking for the best mage in the city.�

�Nope. I�m not going out. I can�t. Not again,� Aiden says, and even at the mention of it, I see a slight tremor in his hands.

�I know.� I wish I could ask him to come, but he�s made his views clear. And even if the mage shows a level of unexpected bravery at times, what we�re about to do is something I want only volunteers for. �Wasn�t here for that. But the city�s going to need you, need your gifts and Skills while we�re gone. The Swarms won�t stop coming, the Bosses are still growing. The System is popping monsters in. None of that is going to stop, and the city needs to be ready for it.�

�You make it sound like you�ll be gone for a bit.�

�For a bit. Maybe a long while.�

�John��

I shake my head, clapping the mage on his shoulder. �Don�t worry about it. You just take care of our city.�

After that, the rest of the preparations are simple enough. More gear to buy, more Contracts to write, more instructions to give. All the while trying to keep the damn Envoy and her people ignorant. Thankfully, everyone is willing to accept the fact that we want to take the time to shore up our equipment before heading out again as a good enough excuse for our continued and unusual presence. All of it is simple enough to do without arousing suspicion, till we leave one morning before the sun crests the horizon.

Which is why I�m surprised to see someone waiting for us on the Robert Pearson road, seated on her bike.

�What are you doing here?� I ask Ingrid, noting how she�s cut her hair short and increased the armor and insulation she�s wearing.

�You guys suck at this entire sneaking around town thing,� Ingrid explains. �So where we headed?�

�None of your business. We got this,� I say.

�Not a chance. I�m coming and you aren�t stopping me,� Ingrid retorts.

�This�� I open my mouth and shut it, glaring at the three who aren�t backing me up. �You know we�re going to do something really stupid, right? Possibly fatal?�

�It�s your team,� Ingrid says, shaking her head. �Of course it�s stupid and dangerous. But it�s effective and it�ll screw with them if you get it right, right?�

�Yes.�

�Then I�m in,� Ingrid says. �So where are we going?�

�Carcross.�

The ride to Carcross is fast and easy. While the roads might not have been cleared, they�re still mostly level, which lets the pets keep a good pace. Anna, strapped in her usual place on Howard with Lana, cracks a yawn and sleeps through even the short fights on the way in. Unlike what her brother would have done, Lana has left Elsa in the city, having decided that a pet turtle�even one that breathes fire�isn�t particularly useful for what we�re about to do.

When we get through the gates, which are higher and stronger than they�ve ever been, we�re greeted by Jason and Elder Badger. I grin, waving as Ingrid stares around the changed town with wide eyes, taking in the sights. I admit, I find some joy in her expressions, knowing we probably looked the same when we first arrived ages ago.

�Andrea. Jason.� I get off Sabre, sending a command for it to follow as I shake their hands. �Didn�t expect you to meet us.�

�Our sensors told us you were coming. Figured we�d say hi,� Jason said, smiling and glancing over at Ingrid. �You recruiting?�

�Of sorts. There�s a lot we need to talk about,� I say. �Can you invite whoever is appropriate from the Guild?�

�Very well,� Andrea says, bobbing her white hair before she stomps away.

I frown, noticing the cane she�s acquired, and raise an eyebrow at Jason.

�She�s tired. Complaining about her arthritis,� Jason says.

I blink, staring at him as I parse that together with my own experience of having my tendinitis disappear on the System�s appearance.

�Probably psychosomatic. Her mind�s way of establishing control,� Ali sends to me.

I grunt, deciding not to pass on that information. Whatever gets us through the day, I guess. Still, I make a note to have a word with Andrea later on.

Since Lana and Mikito know the rough outlines of the plan, they split off, leaving me to explain to the group that gathers in their city center. I quickly go through the pressures Whitehorse is facing, outlining some of the things the Envoy and her people have done.

I end with, �And that�s why we�d like your help. If Whitehorse falls, it won�t be long before they come for Carcross.�

Flanked by Eilon and Ixlimin, the Guildmaster has stayed quiet through the entire explanation. Seated on a child�s booster seat, the four-foot-tall pixie stares at me with multi-colored eyes, absorbing every word I said. When I�m done, he speaks. �This is dire news. We, of course, knew the Duchess had targeted Whitehorse but did not realize matters were this grave. Thank you for the information.

�But I am unsure what, if any, aid we may offer. Angering the Duchess of the Pourquoi States is dangerous, especially for a Guild of our size.�

�You know we�ll help you, John, but what do you need?� Andrea says. �We can�t afford to give you much Credits. We�re on a tight budget here too. And you know we�re low on fighters��

I shake my head, dismissing her words. �The Credits might be useful, but it�s something you should speak with Roxley about directly. As for fighters, I think we�ve got that covered. I have a plan.�

I�m really beginning to get a complex from the way every time I use that word, people wince. At least the humans do.

�What is it?� Jason asks, his head tilted.

�Well, there�s this Dragon, you see�� I savor the wide-eyed expressions as I explain the plan. Or at least, as much as I can tell them.

�You know, you�re absolutely insane,� the Guildmaster says.

�I�ve been told that, Jin,� I say, glancing at him before smiling. �So you guys going to help?�

�It is a risky plan. Too risky for the Guild to take part in.� Jin turns those multi-colored eyes on me. Green, red, and pink swirl as they lock on me with a mischievous glint. �However, I cannot stop my adventurous colleagues from taking on a legitimate Quest if one were to be offered to the Guild.�

I grunt, already wincing internally. �And how expensive a Quest would this be?�

�Expensive. We are talking about tracking a Dragon to its home and leading a group of under-leveled Adventurers there,� Jin says, tapping his lip. �I could not, in good conscience, offer such a Quest without suitable reward.�

Andrea cuts in, her voice curt. �Jin, we will speak of this Quest together. We�ve got to discuss your people�s most recent incident anyway. Partying with the Dwarves after shift and leaving our pub wrecked is not acceptable.�

Jin�s mischievous look falls away and he leans forward slightly, his wings fanning out behind him before they retract behind his back. For a moment, I get a chance to view them fully in all their splendid, multi-hued glory. At Andrea�s gesture, I walk out of the room with Ingrid following me, hands on her hips. It�s only when we�re most of the way out that she breaks the silence.

�So. A Dragon,� Ingrid says leadingly.

�Yeah�� I glance at her from the corner of my eyes. �You know, I�m kind of glad you�re here. Your Skills��

�Yup.� Ingrid shakes her head. �And you didn�t want me to come.�

�Insanely dangerous, remember?� I point out.

�Luthien was right. You�re a damn softie,� Ingrid says, smirking. �I�m a big girl. And this world isn�t safe.�

I nod, falling silent while I figure out where the girls are. It takes a few seconds to guide the pair of us to them. At some point, I�ll have to brief Ingrid a bit more. I told the Carcross council part of the plan, enough to convince them. But with the way the System works, I need to keep most of it close to my chest. Either way, it�s time to get Lana for the next step.

�Shaft Leader?� I inquire, staring at the four-and-a-half-foot tall Dwarf who has his greying hair in dreads.

He�s got his feet up on the table, relaxing after a hard day�s work, with a big pint of beer in his hands. Light gray eyes stare at us inquiringly, weighing and assessing with practiced ease.

�We understand you�re part of a larger clan?� Lana asks, flashing him one of her patented dazzling smiles.

The dwarf blinks, sitting up as she hits him with the charm offensive. It�s unlikely that anyone of his rank can�t shake off the effects of a charm spell, but having a beautiful woman talk to you still wakes up any red-blooded male.

�That I am, and that we are. The Stonebottom Clan.� The dwarf grins, offering his hands to Lana. When she takes them, he pulls her to him, knocking heads with her gently and sneaking a look down her blouse. �Romi Graniteknee. What can I do for you?�

�Well, we�ve got a little business proposition for your clan, if you�re willing to listen,� Lana murmurs, still bent over until Romi nods. Then she straightens up and takes a seat. �Now, we were thinking��

I lean against the wall, watching her work the poor dwarf over. Not that she has her way completely, but Lana�s experience at negotiating deals shines here. It�s a delicate task and one that I�m glad she�s heading, even if Romi drives a hard bargain. Still, at the end of the conversation, we have what we need, if not what we want.

The evening before we embark on the most dangerous thing we�ve ever done, we spend our time doing something entirely pedestrian. Perhaps it�s by choice, perhaps it�s just the way people deal with mounting pressure, but we spend the evening hanging out with Jason, Mike, and Rachel over good food and alcohol. No hunting, no fighting, just tall tales and ribbing. Unsurprisingly, we shoot down Jason�s offer of coming along�something that Rachel looks entirely grateful for. Mike�s offer is harder to turn down.

�Seriously, Mike, we don�t need you,� I explain, waving and trying to settle down the ex-Constable. �We�re getting the Guild to help, so that�ll boost our numbers. And we aren�t exactly intending to fight our way in. Kluane�s well outside our Levels, so stealth is the watchword.�

He grunts, rubbing at his cyberarm unconsciously while we talk.

�And Carcross needs you,� Lana adds, prodding the big man. �It might be a lull now, but the Swarms are going to keep coming and there�s no guarantee the System won�t drop something new. Best thing you can do is keep leveling out here.�

�Doesn�t sit right with me.� Mike chugs his beer. �But you�re right. Just seems like I�m always being excluded from all the fun things.�

�Eh, it�s a good thing. Merrow won�t bitch to me about you being gone,� Jason says.

The girls, as one, turn to stare at Mike.

�Merrow? Wait, the Cat-girl?� Rachel asks, her eyes wide.

�Yup.�

�A Cat-girl?� I ask, my voice rising slightly.

�That�s not their�� Ali says and gets popcorn thrown at him.

The women lean forward, fixing their gaze on the large and suddenly shy constable.

�So, Mike, this Merrow��

As the girls prod the poor man for more information, I sit back and enjoy the show. For all his grumbling, Mike doesn�t actually mind speaking about his new girlfriend once he gets rolling. Who�d ever thought he was that open-minded?

�Eilon. Ixlimin,� I greet the pair as we meet up with them the next morning. A quick glance at their Status Bars is all it takes to get information from them. Not a huge change in their stats, to tell the truth, which works for me.

I let my gaze wander to the other three in their party. One�s a wolf-human hybrid, a staff in her hand; another is a blue-skinned humanoid with four hands; and the last is a Yerick. All are clad in high-tech skinsuits, thin armor plates lining their bodies, and both melee and ranged weapons are slung across their bodies. Interestingly enough, the Yerick has a bow across his body, though I see no arrows.

Jakrim Lurra (Level 3 Axe Warrior)

HP: 1020/1020

MP: 530/530

Condition: None

Valeria Iillora (Level 42 Elementalist)

HP: 230/230

MP: 1430/1430

Condition: None

Jazae Lamarr (Level 4 Scout Leader)

HP: 840/840

MP: 790/790

Condition: None

�Nice team,� Ali says, his eyes roaming over the group. �But are you guys going to be enough?�

�Ixlimin can run interference for the System while Jazae will scout ahead and swing us around as many monsters as we can. When we can�t, Valeria has a number of concealment spells,� Eilon says. �We�re also the only team that volunteered.�

�Beggars can�t be choosers,� Lana says and nods to them. �Day�s not getting any younger.�

Rolling out, our newly enlarged group reaches the woods within minutes with Jazae leading the way. We could use the roads and go faster, but the plan is to do this quietly, which means we skip the roads and go cross-country.

Watching the Galactic team in action and the various options they�ve chosen to navigate the wilderness is interesting. Mikito and Lana ride the huskies, of course, and Ingrid�s bike, like Sabre, has been outfitted with anti-gravity plates that keep it off the ground and handle the terrain easily. Like us, Jakrim uses a bike, somewhat more rugged and post-apocalyptic but still very much a bike. Valeria and Ixlimin both fly on their own power, using Magic and integrated technology in equal order. Interestingly enough, Eilon and the Scout are on foot. Jazae walks but somehow still covers more ground than a flat-out run, while Eilon�s just freaky. The Eldritch Knight floats alongside us, never seeming to strain no matter how fast we�re going. I guess being partially incorporeal has some benefits.

Since we don�t need to hide till we�re at the icefields, Jazae leads us on as straight a course as the terrain allows. Of course, that means we end up meeting more than one group of monsters. For the first fight, we step back and watch the Galactics go to work. Even as Jakrim, Ixlimin, and Valeria attack from a distance, pounding the unfortunate slimes, Eilon floats right into the center of the group and attacks with his sword, slicing and dicing without care. Attacks mostly pass through him, doing damage but not displacing his body. In short order, the slimes are dead and we�re moving.

The Galactics take the lead on the next encounter as well, before we start working on figuring out how to fight together as a group. Jazae never makes an appearance at this or the other fights, always staying a step ahead of the main group as she trailblazes for us.

After a bit of a rough start, we start gelling. It�s a not difficult transition�most of us melee fighters just have to remember to hold back and let the ranged attackers pound our enemies a bit till they arrive. After that, we�re normally too tightly packed for ranged attacks, but with the monsters we face, that�s rarely a problem. While they aren�t under-levelled, there�re just too many of us to make most groups a credible threat. Sadly, that also means we aren�t getting much in terms of experience.

By the time we call it a night, we�ve covered about two-thirds of the distance to Kluane. We could have traveled faster, but toward the end, we started running into Level 70 monsters. Still not impossible, but the fights are tougher and require us to rest and wait for Mana and health to regenerate. We start being more cautious as well, because as we get closer, the zones will get higher and higher.

Setting up camp is quick, with a series of portable force fields linked to keep out potential trouble and a quick clearing of snow by Anna. Tents are pitched, additional security measures like automated gun turrets are added, and a fire is started within minutes. Watches are divided based off rest requirements, and the mages and Ingrid crash out after a warm meal. The melee fighters stay up later, our enhanced Constitution ensuring that we handle the trip better.

Having volunteered for first watch, I�m surprised when Lana sits down beside me, Anna flopping her head on Lana�s legs for a good scratching the moment she does. Red fur is combed and ears are gently scratched as Lana stays silent. I look at the redhead, noting that helmet hair or not, she looks ravishing. Not knowing what she wants to say or why she�s here, I find myself speechless as always. This is the first time we�ve had a chance to really talk since the meeting with Roxley. Ali floats away from us, engaging Eilon in conversation.

�I�m sorry,� Lana says after the silence has stretched on too long.

�There�s no need,� I say automatically. Even as I say it, I realize it�s the truth. She might have betrayed us in a way�but she was right, the land was hers to do with as she desired. We might have wanted a say, but we didn�t have a right to it. And� �You were hurt. In pain. I�m sorry. I should have talked to you more. Helped more.�

�I didn�t want any.�

�Doesn�t matter,� I say, shaking my head. �I should have been a better friend. I�m just not very good at this. At that.�

�Being a friend?�

�No. About, well, talking about you know.� I grimace as I struggle against my old training, my old social conditioning.

�Opening up? Showing people you care?� Lana says, and I nod. �It�s not easy for anyone.�

�It seemed easy for you,� I retort.

�Seemed. It�s never easy. Caring for others, empathizing, you just get better at it with practice.�

�Yeah�� I fall silent, staring into the darkness. I glance at my minimap, seeing nothing new of note, before turning back to Lana. �So how are you doing?�

�It hurts when I think of him. Hurts worse when I realize I�ve forgotten about him, that I stopped hurting. I know it�s stupid. I even know what my old therapist would say. It�s not as if I didn�t experience this when our parents died. I know I shouldn�t feel guilty for living, but it still feels wrong.�

�I know�� I say, rubbing my face. Gods, do I know. �Emotions never do want to listen to logic.�

�I wanted him back so much, even when I knew it was wrong, I ignored it. Knew that it wouldn�t be him, couldn�t be him. But I thought maybe if it was even mostly like him, it�d be okay. Enough to make it stop hurting,� Lana confesses.

I almost say something about how it doesn�t make sense, what she said. But then again, pain and grief don�t make sense. It just is.

�I used to love the Yukon. Couldn�t imagine living anywhere else. The woods, the winter, the weather. Now, every place I look, every person I meet reminds me of him. And I hate it. Hate that Richard gave his life up for this, for us, just because he couldn�t look away. I wish�� Lana stutters to a stop and shakes her head. �I should have burnt all his comics.�

�All?�

�Yeah. We got into a fight once when we were kids. Stupid sibling stuff�I can�t even remember what about. I was so angry with him, I walked into his room and grabbed some of his comics and threw them into the stove with the firewood,� Lana says, and I look at her in horror. She ducks her head slightly, the blush setting off her freckles for a moment. �I know. But I was only ten. Our parents took away my allowance for weeks till I paid him back.�

�Huh. Spiderman, right?� I say, and she nods. �He told me about it. I don�t think burning them would have mattered. He�d have found another reason to be out there.�

�Yes. The idiot always wanted to be a hero.� Lana bends down, burying her face in Anna�s fur.

I shake my head, looking away, then grunt reflexively as Howard drops his head onto my lap, looking for a scratch too. I peel off my gauntlets before I comply with his furry demand, digging my flesh into silky fur while I check my map again.

We fall silent for a time, scratching the fox and puppy in silence. It�s a companionable silence, a mutual moment of peace in an otherwise deadly and dangerous world. We�re silent for so long, even the animals trade places.

Lana finally speaks. �John.�

�Hmmm�?�

�Do you�?� Lana blushes slightly before catching my eye and tilting her head toward her tent.

�Uhh��

�I�m not emotional. Well, I am but not, you know,� Lana says. �No promises. Nothing more than friends.�

�I�m on watch.�

�Ali?� Lana calls, and the Spirit, who has returned to floating above us, comes down.

�Got it, toots. Go clean your tubes, boy-o.�

I growl at the Spirit, then turn to look at Lana, really look at her. I take in her pale, freckled skin and the disarrayed red hair. The all-too-serious expression that�s contradicted by the rising blush. The straight back that reminds me of the strength she carries, and the smiling violet eyes.

I�ve said no before. I get the feeling if I say no now, it�ll likely be the last time she would ever ask. And for good reason. There are a million and one reasons to say no. The fact that I don�t know where this is going. That she�s still vulnerable. That I�m still vulnerable. In the end though, the only real question is�do I want this?

Five hours later, we�re on the road again. Everyone but us has gotten some rest. I�ll admit, I�m grateful that the high-tech Galactic-made tents are soundproof. Otherwise, we would not have created a restful environment for anyone else. Or at least the humans�the gods know what the Galactics might think of sex. Perhaps it would have been restful for some of them.

We�ve only been moving for a short period before Eilon comes floating back to where I ride Sabre.

�Among my party, when someone is skipping his�or her�watch rotation for any reason, we generally inform the next on the list,� Eilon says as he floats next to me.

�Sorry. My Spirt was watching,� I mutter, looking down as I throw out my feeble excuse. It�s not as if I had much longer on my watch�we�d split it such that there were only two watchers a night.

�Yes, well, Spirits generally aren�t considered substitutes. Same with drones or AIs. Too easy for the System or monsters to fool. They�re also often not effective as first responders,� Eilon says, chiding me.

I take it with stride, nodding.

When the Eldritch Knight feels the rebuke has sunk in properly, he adds, �I�ll admit, your Spirit is different from most. His scanning abilities are impressive.�

I grunt, not caring to let him know that Ali�s Linked to me. While not unique, it is rare since the Mana cost of having a Linked Spirit is high. In my case, I don�t have to pay for it since it�s being paid for by the System, but for most, it would be another drain on their Mana regeneration rates and thus too expensive.

Having done his duty as the leader of the group, Eilon moves back to his place in line. Once again, I let my eyes rove over the group. Jazae�s out of sight as always, while Eilon and Jakrim play point man. Mikito and Ingrid bring up the rear, while the mage, Ixlimin, Lana, and myself are in the center of the group with the puppies. We�re in a tighter formation than yesterday, the puppies not as spread out since the terrain we traverse forces us to stay close.

We�re passing through a small gulley into a clearing, exiting from trees that have gained a metallic sheen and sap that dribbles silver, when they hit us. Eilon and Jakrim are out of cover when our attackers open fire, bolts of blue and red tearing through the air. At the same time, additional energy beams strike at us within the trees, Hakarta appearing in shimmers of light as their shielding falls. Attacks flash forward, converging on us from all directions in an attempt to surprise us.

All to be met with layers of shields and Mana. I almost wish I could see their faces when their ambush fails. Already Valeria is casting a Wall spell, sealing off one side of the battlefield for a few moments while the rest of us focus on the other side. Most of my Mana is gone, having used it to layer Soul Shield on my teammates, but I�ve got enough to spare for a Blink Step. When Sabre completes its change, I trigger the Skill, putting me behind the Hakarta team.

The Hakarta are smooth, trained. A pair spin around, searching for me, while the others focus fire on the rest of the team. Unfortunately for them, the pair who spin around aren�t the ones I picked to attack. My sword cuts into the black armor-plated back of the Hakarta, duplicate blades trailing along behind my initial strike and cutting again into our ambusher.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse the rest of the team at work. Ingrid and Ixlimin are gone, disappeared completely from sight. Mikito takes a more direct route, charging the group that hit us from behind. On top of Wynn, the Samurai and puppy cover the ground in fractions of a second. Ghostly armor surrounds both of them, beams of energy impacting and creating a scatter of rainbow light as it washes backward. Anna, released from Howard, is bathing one side of our line with flames, the same side that Valeria is busy throwing up reinforced earthen walls to provide cover against. Howard drops to the ground and slinks forward to the untouched side as best as he can, lowering the bulk of his body out of the range of fire. Shadow takes a more direct approach since he was closer, attacking the closest Hakarta, shadowy and real teeth closing on different limbs. Lana�s hiding behind a tree, tossing out smoke grenades to give us additional cover while the occasional beam bounces off the remains of my Soul Shield. In the vanguard, Eilon separates into four copies, each of them charging a different Hakarta. Jakrim, on the other hand, just guns his bike, letting loose with his own integrated beam weaponry as he closes in on his attackers.

That�s about all I see before I�m caught up in my own fight. Damage readouts flare as beams dig into Sabre�s armor, its shield finally failing. I kick away the son of a bitch that�s trying to gut me, then turn fully down the line to make sure it�s clear of friendlies. Once I confirm that, I trigger a barrage of missiles that coat and lock the Hakarta in place. Lana and the puppies take full advantage of the break in fire, tearing forward to close in on the trapped soldiers.

Two more directly behind me are still free, so I focus on them, running and dodging as I close in on them. Ali floats down to the injured Hakarta that I kicked away and plunges tiny hands through his armor before doing something that elicits a bone-chilling scream.

I watch the damage readouts flare in my HUD even as I close in on the shooter, duplicate blades flickering to life. The rifle comes up, blocking the cut, and I let my sword disappear while I stab outward with my other hand even as I quickly step sideways to cover the ground. The Hakarta jumps back as he�s forced to dodge the two duplicates that I haven�t dismissed, but it does mean that my thrust catches him straight on, Mana-infused blade cutting through armor as though it�s not there.

�Walls failing, boy-o. The mage is good, but earth walls can only take so much,� Ali sends, urging me on.

No time. Mana�s nearly out, so I raise my right hand while dismissing the duplicate blades and trigger the Inlin, letting projectiles rip into the Hakarta�s body on full auto. Seconds pass and the bullets tear a hole all the way through the Hakarta, his armor unable to withstand the assault. I�m on to the next attacker, forced to duck and dodge as the Hakarta fires.

Hakarta Private (Level 35)

HP: 450/450

MP: 153/240

Condition: Afraid (Reduced Reaction Time)

Not strong individually. But they�ve got good gear, good tactics, and the numbers. When Ali first noticed them, we did a count and worked out the plan. Unfortunately, because they were shadowing us, we couldn�t break anyone else off and had to literally walk into their trap. Good news, we were able to quietly put together a retaliatory plan of attack.

I make my way to the last free private on this side, grab him by his neck, and throw him with all the strength I have through the trees and into the crumbling earth wall. Sabre�s Shield flickers on as I bounce forward, taking the rocket that the private launches as he scrambles to his feet. My newly reformed Shield crumbles under the force, but the explosion isn�t enough to throw me back. Powered armor and System-enhanced strength power me through the explosion to plunge my blades into the body. Dust and rocks explode around us, and I�m glad I don�t breathe the air directly.

In the midst of the new group, I open up with the sonic pulser for a few seconds. Not long, not with the pets here, but long enough to hurt the privates and disorient them while the team regroups. Inlin reloaded, I open fire, projectiles ripping through metallic foliage and striking flesh. I rake my gun over the group, not trying to kill but rattle. They fire at me, and I focus for a second, dropping Sabre into my inventory and taking the shots directly. Pain rips through me as beams burn and cauterize flesh. The minimal armor of my armored skinsuit shreds.

Even through my Greater Regeneration, I can see my health drop, but it�s better than letting Sabre get ripped apart. I hunker down, hiding as best I can amongst the churned earthen remnants of the wall and hope that my team can get here before I have to run. The sudden slacking of fire makes me look up to see that the rest of the Hakarta are engaged with the team and getting torn apart. A quick glance at the minimap shows that Jazae�s already sneaked back, and together, the three Galactics have dealt with the attack from the front and are returning to help. I�d been slightly worried about that, since the Hakarta had concentrated their forces on the front, but it seems I shouldn�t have bothered. Their initial assault blunted, the Hakarta never stood a chance.

�What was that about?� Jakrim asks later on, when we�ve healed, looted, and dispensed the goodies.

Dimensional grenades, beam rifles, and badly mangled armor suits are the loot we acquired�that, and a small portion of their Credits. Still, it�s a better haul than some monster fights we�ve had.

�Ambush,� Ali says, smirking.

�Seems like they could have hit us harder,� Eilon says, shaking his head. �Twenty-one privates, two sergeants, and a lieutenant don�t seem to be enough.�

�Probably didn�t expect to have to deal with your team,� Lana says as she casts a Heal spell on Shadow. As we watch, the Husky�s broken leg slowly regenerates under the focus of her spell.

�Too bad our mysterious attacker wasn�t here,� I say, staring at the bodies. I�d hoped, but I think if he had come out, he probably would have left when he spotted Eilon�s team. The Weaponmaster might be tough, but he�s not that tough. I think.

�So you were expecting to be attacked,� Eilon snaps, floating closer suddenly. �You put us in danger without warning us?�

�We told you the ambush was coming when Ali picked up the group. You didn�t seem that bothered,� I state.

�That you expected an ambush before we left would have affected the Quest,� Jakrim growls. �Is there anything else you are not telling us?�

�A ton,� I say. �But nothing that changes the Quest. Nothing that will affect you guys. Unless we do get hit again by the guy we expected.�

�Your mysterious attacker,� Eilon says, and I nod. �Any thoughts on why these fellows and not him?�

Ali floats down and flickers through a series of his clothing to draw attention to himself. �Best guess? They weren�t sure exactly where John and his team were going. We left enough breadcrumbs to make sure they knew we expected to be gone for a while. Since our mysterious attacker can�t leave the city for too long, they must have decided to use the B-team.�

�Twenty-three Hakarta.� I stare around at the corpses, doing the math. Yeah, that�d make sense. Good as we are, twenty-three of them with the benefit of surprise against the three of us? That would do it.

�Deep waters,� Eilon mutters, and I shrug.

�You were there when we talked about this,� I say.

Eilon grimaces, nodding slowly. Politics are politics. After all, it wasn�t as if he didn�t know what he was getting into when he signed on.

�So we going to go or we going to just hang out here, talking about our feelings?� Ali says.

He might be blunt, but he�s right. Within minutes, we�re on the move again for our main objective. The icefields.

Chapter 14

The start of the Kluane National Park is only a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Whitehorse. It�s a gorgeous, sprawling wilderness that covers over twenty thousand square kilometers of space, and the icefields comprise about eighty percent of the land area. And somewhere in those icefields that constantly tick upward in zone levels, a Dragon lives.

Now entering the Kluane National Park zone (Level 100+)

Note: Zone levels are currently in flux during transition period.

We�re hunkered down just inside the zone level, Jazae taking the time to scout our approach a bit more carefully now. Ali�s had to limit his scans significantly since some of the monsters at this level might be able to pick up a broader, less guarded scan. Luckily, my own Skill is significantly more short-ranged and passive, so it acts as a good secondary safeguard.

�John?�

Lana�s voice cuts through my reverie as I stare at the notification. I dismiss it with a thought, looking at the redhead who has ridden her puppy close. Now that we�re in, we won�t be fighting as much as hiding. While there are monsters within our level here, any fight increases the likelihood that someone, something at a much higher level will find us. Better for us to stay hidden.

�This is where it all started, you know. For me,� I say, pointing farther north. We�d adjusted our angle of approach a bit since we want the icefields and not the lake, so we never saw Haines Junction or the lake. �Kathleen Lake.�

�Ah.� Lana slips her hand into mine and gives it a squeeze. �You don�t talk about it much. Or your past.�

I nod. Compartmentalizing my life, pushing aside the past so that I can live in the present. Dwelling about what was lost, who was lost is not my way. Can�t be. Because if I did, I don�t think I could keep going. Still� �Not much to say. Spent only a few days here, running from one monster to the next, desperate to get out of the zone before the really nasty monsters came into play. I started at Level 1.�

�Boy-o had to be forced to fight a damn ant,� Ali says, chuckling.

�Do you remember the hare?� I laugh silently. �You thought it was a rabbit.�

�I figured you wouldn�t make it past a week,� Ali adds while Lana and the rest of the team watch us reminiscence.

�Nearly died probably a dozen times. That giant almost got me.�

�I remember you staring at his dong,� Ali says.

I snort. Yes, that was one memory I wish I could forget. �Gods. Was it, like, eleven months ago?� I shake my head, realizing how much and how little time has passed. So much has happened since then.

�What was your first day like?� Ali says, turning to Lana.

�Terrifying. Richard�� Her voice breaks for a moment. �Richard and I, we accepted the System�s �suggestion� for the Class right away. It seemed right, you know? We had the ranch to watch out for and the animals. When we tried the truck, it didn�t start. So we waited. Our first kill was this segmented, caterpillar-like thing. Richard used the axe while the dogs tore into it. We didn�t dare leave, not the first day. Just stayed home, killing the things that came for us.

�Sometimes� sometimes I think we should have gone out. Found some of our neighbors. Maybe we could have helped them survive.�

I give Lana�s hand, which I haven�t relinquished, a squeeze, the pressure more a sign of comfort than physical reassurance�not with the gauntleted gloves we both have on. When she looks at my face, I shake my head. �Don�t. You did what you had to do. Maybe you could have helped them. Maybe you would have died. There�s no way of knowing. So don�t kick yourself over it.�

Lana nods slightly, giving me a wan smile.

Ingrid turns her head toward Mikito. �How about you?�

Shit. Lana and I wince, knowing this story.

�I� my husband and I were at the hot springs. At one of the cabins. He died,� Mikito says flatly then clamps her mouth shut.

Ingrid rolls with the answer with equanimity as she adds her own story. �Yes. My husband and my sister-in-law too. They were visiting us, in our apartment. Dawson. There weren�t many of us. But the monsters that came, they were big. Nasty. There was this slug-like thing that crashed through houses and attacked those hiding inside. Killed dozens before it finally died. Then there was this raven�it�d evolved. Burnt down the houses on the other side of the river. We couldn�t hurt it�but we didn�t need to. It flew over the river and a tentacle snatched it out of the air. That was on the third day though. I think. It kind of blurred together.�

The Galactics listen but say nothing, watching the trees while we wait. I wonder how they feel about this, about our stories. The little I�ve gleaned, their lives varied as much as, if not more than, humanity�s existences on Earth did before the System. Some might grow up in large, settled, stable zones while others grow up in small, impoverished towns where the monsters are just a step away. No different really than a first world or a failed state denizen. Whatever else the System brings, it surely doesn�t bring equality.

�Time to go,� Eilon breaks in, nodding toward the treeline ahead.

We stow the bikes except for Sabre, which I keep in mecha mode, and take to the mountains on foot. A few additional bags of easily disposable equipment is grabbed, though we carry the vast majority of what we need in my Altered Space and our inventories. From now on, we�re going on foot. It�s easier to hide when we�re walking.

We walk up and up, hiking through the mountains with ice and snow beneath our feet. Wind howls, sending loose snow skirting around our bodies and chilling exposed skin, senses stretched to their utmost as we search for trouble. Snow-capped peaks with granite peeking around the edges greet our vision, dark clouds gathered above us as we climb ever higher.

We�ve dodged a series of issues already, most notably a clan of Snow Giants and a pair of Ice Elementals, but we haven�t been able to skip everything. A Snow Leopard with an extra pair of tentacles on its back pounced on Ingrid, taking her down and savaging her before we managed to kill it. We had to rest and hide while Valeria manipulated the snow, clearing the blood from the ground, and Ingrid regenerated the lost limb.

The climb is nothing for us, enhanced Constitutions and occasional spells of regeneration keeping us on our feet. We cover good ground even if we spend large portions of it hiding, backtracking, or skirting around potential problems. Thankfully, the monsters that pick up our presence are often too smart to take on such a large group without backup�another change from lower-level monsters. These ones have some level of basic sentience and control over the stupid aggression the System instills in them.

Two days of this and we finally make the icefields. In just over two days, we�ve covered more than seventy kilometers, walking for over twenty hours a day. Pristine white snow covers the ground, occasionally broken up by dips where packed, blue-white glacial walls show up. It�s a barren land, much more than anything else we�ve seen before.

Now entering the Kluane Icefields zone (Level 130+)

Note: Zone levels are currently in flux during transition period.

The zone notification makes us all draw a deep breath, the unspoken tension ratcheting up further. But finally, we�re getting closer.

The cave Jazae finds for us to rest in is small, cramped, and cold. However, a simple portable shield keeps the wind out, and a secondary exit gives us a quick escape if something big and nasty finds us. It�s good enough for the few hours of rest we need before we continue.

Two weeks of trekking through the icefields. Late-February and the weather is utterly atrocious. We�re constantly fighting through snow and freezing winds, backtracking and hiding in the snow while we wait for predators bigger and nastier than us to leave the region. Pushed, battered, and frozen, we struggle on every day, some days barely covering a few kilometers. In one particularly unlucky day, we lose nearly ten kilometers as we backtracked. Temperatures range from a balmy -10�C to a lung-hurting -40�C. And that�s all before we add on the wind chill.

We lose Wynn first. An Ice Worm�Level 137�comes out of the ground, teeth snapping closed around the puppy. Mikito barely rolls out of her seat in time, Haste and enhanced reflexes throwing her out of suddenly unsteady seat. She lashes out with her weapon as she falls, scoring the only attack. The Ice Worm comes up and goes down, still holding Wynn in its mouth, and never returns, the puppy�s surprised yelp the last noise we hear. Lana screams and scrabbles, trying to go after it but it�s useless. Lana spends the next little while sobbing into Mikito�s back but we can�t stop. Not now.

Jakrim dies next. A clan of Ice Yetis evades Jazae�s recon and spots us. Together with their tamed Snow Leopards, they hound us for hours while we attempt to lose them and fail. We end up having to make a stand, fighting the score of Level 90+ monsters against a giant snowdrift. A spell pulls more snow from the ground, creating a magical blizzard that hampers the effectiveness of our beam weaponry. No one dares to use projectiles�the loud noises would likely bring something even worse. The fight devolves into a close combat melee, with Eilon, Mikito, Jakrim, and me on the front lines. Jazae and Ingrid fade in and out behind enemy lines, striking and disappearing before they can be injured, while Ixlimin, Lana, and Valeria take them on at range with spells and beam weaponry. Anna and the pets fill in when they can, striking and backing off from the frontlines.

When he dies, it happens fast. We�re all bleeding, all damaged, life sapped as environmental cold damage slows our regeneration. A missed parry, a cut that disarms the Yerick, then the blade slides in. It injects a poison that starts freezing his blood, and while Jakrim is scrambling for a potion, an Ice Spike rips out from the ground. It catches him in the stomach, punching through armor already weakened by the cold and battle, and hangs him in the air. By the time we can get to him, the Yerick is dead.

The Galactics grow grim at his death. It�s one thing to know that this was a dangerous, probably even suicidal, mission. It�s another to lose a friend, a party member.

Luckily for us, as we get closer to the Dragon�s lair, the fewer monsters there are. Not even the stupidly aggressive creatures of the System want to annoy a Dragon. When we reach the base of the giant mountain, we�ve barely seen a monster in hours.

�This is as far as we go,� Eilon says after we hit the base of Mount Logan.

Jazae has returned to the group, and we�re hunkered down on a small overhang in the rock, one made of equal parts snow and stone.

�Fair enough,� I say and glance at the shared map. Another five kilometers from here�though it�s mostly up�before we�re there. A cave in the side of Mount Logan, one that the Dragon has made its own. I wonder if it carved it itself or if the cave was always there, waiting to be used. I look up, staring at the stars that blink in all their glory out here, and make the decision. �We�ll hit it tomorrow.�

At my word, we break for the day rather than just take a quick rest stop. We�ve gotten so used to doing this that the shield and the reflective camouflage wall go up in minutes while Valeria weaves additional spells of concealment around the camp. Everyone settles in quickly, pulling out food and resting mats in quick order. Even if today�really, tonight since we�ve been traveling at night mostly�was shorter than normal, we�ve still been moving for eight hours.

I don�t sleep, instead standing against the edge of the camouflage wall. There�s a stark beauty to the icefields, white snow that dances with the colors of the Northern lights. I look up, seeing the purple, green, blue, and yellow shift as the bands of color illuminate the sky. Stars, so many damn stars, the band of the Milky Way clear to the naked eye. Not a single human, monster, or spirit in sight. Just nature in all its scary glory.

�Beautiful, isn�t it?� Lana says as she comes up to my side.

�Yes,� I reply softly. �One of the most beautiful things I�ve ever seen.�

�John. Tomorrow�� Lana stops, seemingly unsure of what more to say. �Come back safe.�

�Repetitive,� I mutter, and she shoves me in the shoulder with her own. I flash her a quick grin before I grow serious. �I�ll do my best.�

Lana falls silent, snaking gloved fingers into mine. We watch the icefields for a while, just enjoying the sight. If I�m going to die tomorrow, this isn�t a bad last night.

It�s later that evening, when everyone but Ixlimin, who is on watch, has gone to sleep that I call Ali over. We�ve not had much time or space to do this, but with a few hours left and a mind that threatens to overcome itself with jitters and concerns, I need to take my mind off the upcoming day. Elemental Affinity training works as well as anything else. Eyes closed, legs crossed, I reach out once again to sense the world.

You�d think, being in the barren edges of the world, it would be easier. There�s only ice and snow covering hard granite out here. You�d be wrong�since every molecule, every single inch glows with power. But this time round, I�m not looking at the whole rainbow. I�m searching for individual lines of power, ones I can play with and adjust. Some are wider and stronger than others�though that doesn�t say much, since we�re talking in terms of millimeters at best�and those are the ones I focus on.

It�s a long, tedious, and often frustrating process. And it�s just what I need as I work to calm my mind.

Chapter 15

�All right, you all know the plan. Ingrid and I will sneak in. You hold and stay here for a day. If we don�t get back by then, we�ve failed. Get out, get home, and do your best,� I say, meeting my team�s eyes.

Lana refuses to meet mine, but Mikito nods quietly while Ingrid yawns, looking bored. A part of me wonders how I ended up with three women on my team, but another can see how everything happened, step by bloody step.

�Any questions?� I ask.

�Who gets your PAV?� Jazae asks, pointing at Sabre, which I�ve left on the ground in its bike form. As much as I�d like to bring the mecha, we�re going for stealth. She just won�t be of any use if we get found out.

�Mikito. Ali�s added her to the software. She won�t be able to control it as well as I can, but it�ll do,� I answer.

Mikito nods again, shooting me a grateful smile. The choice wasn�t hard, not really. I still recall Mikito�s excitement at seeing Sabre the first time. Sometimes I�m surprised she hasn�t bought her own yet�but I guess none of us have had Credits to spare. Not yet at least.

�Anything else?�

Receiving no other questions, I jerk my head toward the door. Within seconds, Ingrid and I are out, tramping through the snow. It�s surprisingly warm today, barely -10�C, so under our high-tech layers, it could have been a balmy 25�C. Ali floats next to us, keeping an eye on his screens as we tramp on in silence. There�s nothing to say, not yet at least. Both of us know the plan.

The decision to enter during the day was hotly debated during the last two weeks. Dragons have a tendency to sleep a lot, resting for days between meals. Ice Dragons in particular are well known for their long periods of inactivity�days, sometimes weeks, might go by before they decide to stir themselves. Laziness, or perhaps a lack of immediacy from being effectively immortal, characterized Dragons. What that meant was that we could hole up for days or perhaps weeks before we could find a time when the Dragon wasn�t in its lair. Sneaking in while it was there was always an expectation.

That left the question of night or day. Since there was no way of telling if the Dragon was awake or not, it seemed to me that the most logical choice was to sneak in when it most benefited us. No point in worrying if it was asleep if it slept for days. Going in during the day also had the added benefit that if the Dragon did wake and get itself a Giant snack, we�d have a chance to exploit it.

Unsurprisingly, none of our plans involved fighting it face to face.

The cave entrance is surprisingly smaller than I expected, just over twenty feet tall and half again as wide. While I�ve never seen the Dragon up close, it looked huge, but somehow, the entrance isn�t as big as I thought it�d be. I guess the fact that the Dragon�s thin and long rather than fat and bulbous like a Western Dragon accounts for the difference. Or you know, the monster might just be cheating and using a Class Skill or something.

�Ali?�

The Spirit floats forward, shrunk down to only a couple of inches tall as he scouts ahead. Ingrid and I squat a short distance away, camouflage clothing keeping us from being spotted while we wait.

�First cavern is clear. Waiting at the entrance to the second,� Ali sends.

We climb up, our bodies tight to the ground and sneaking forward as quietly and quickly as we can. Ingrid�s Class Skills make her invisible to my naked eye, but as we�re partied, I can watch her dot on my minimap. As planned, she stays ten feet behind me, just in case. Really, with her Skills, it�d make more sense if she was the one leading, but I�m the one with the link to Ali. If any one of us has a chance of getting an early warning, it�d be me. Anyway, she isn�t the one who came up with this stupid plan�Ingrid�s not even supposed to be here.

Light, coming from the sun outside, glints off ice crystals. Curls and whorls of frozen water that illuminate green and blue walls of dihydrogen monoxide. Black granite peeks out from underneath the snow where claws the size of my torso have dug into the earth. The only sound I can hear is the howling wind, bringing ever more snow and cold. Even through the filtered air of my helmet, the chill cuts into my lungs, waking me.

�Here,� I say, spotting Ali as I creep forward. I crouch low, not in the entrance but near it, and wait.

�Have I told you how much I hate being bait?� Ali grumbles as he floats forward.

�Not bait. Scout.�

�Doesn�t feel like that to me,� Ali shoots back. Still, for all his complaining, he goes in.

There are stories about Dragons. Stories about their strength, their power, their wisdom. There are millions of tales carried through the Galaxy via Mana to at least give us a little bit of a heads-up, a minor chance of surviving. Splintered, shattered into a million different versions. But some things are so strong, so powerfully key to their narrative, that they carry through. Their strength. Their power. Their wisdom. And their love of their hoard.

When Ali gives me the all-clear, I slide into the next cavern, keeping to the shadows. What I see next takes my breath away. Crystals and gems of all shapes and sizes are piled high and glowing ever so gently. Tiny ones barely the size of a dime, some the size of a human torso, and everything in between. Red, green, blue, yellow, all of them burning with a familiar blue light. They�re piled high, but not carelessly like in the movies. Small forcefields all around the treasure keep the crystals and gems neatly contained. Behind me, I hear a soft, quickly muted gasp as Ingrid spots the treasure trove as well.

At Ali�s prompting, I head left, carefully edging up a staircase of frozen water. It takes me above the cavern floor, curling around and over the force fields that hold the crystals together. Up here, the subtle glow is almost painful to look at, the accumulated intensity reflecting off frozen walls. For all their brilliance, all the wealth, my attention is taken by the Dragon.

Ice Dragon (Level ????)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

Condition: Sleeping

Long and sinuous like a snake, flared crests all along its back. Not pure white, but a white streaked with the green and blue of glacial waters. Lanky, scaled legs�six that I can count easily�and a pair of small, almost dainty hands near its front. Each pair of legs contains claws that could rip apart a school bus. Wings, folded up against its body, rise and fall as the Dragon breathes.

�The light�� I send to my Spirit, who sends back a sense of affirmation.

The light from the crystals is rising and falling with the Dragon�s breathing. As it sleeps, the Dragon is channeling Mana unconsciously through the crystals, turning them into Mana batteries. The action is so subtle, I probably wouldn�t have noticed it months ago. As it stands, I can�t tell if the Dragon is adding to or taking power from the hoard. A creature of legendary power unconsciously manipulating Mana even as it sleeps.

Quest Update: the System

The Dragon�s secret

Exp +5,000 XP

�That�s it?� I send to Ali, staring at the brief Quest update.

�That�s it, boy-o. Nothing else. Just that.�

I hear the confusion in his thoughts, and I don�t blame him. 5,000 XP is an amazing haul. And for what? For watching a Dragon sleep? I don�t understand, I don�t get it. It�s obviously an important piece of the puzzle, but I don�t understand where it fits.

Damn it, not now. I bite my lip, the pain forcing my mind back to the task at hand. Questions or not, I have something more important to do.

Right. I�m in, staring at the Dragon and its hoard. The easy part is done. Now comes the real challenge.

�Can we still do this?� I stare at the Spirit then again at the flux of Mana, the way the crystals charge and disperse. They seem to be fully connected to the Dragon sleeping on them.

�I don�t know. Shifting the crystals right now might wake it,� Ali sends back, obviously mulling over this new development as much as I am.

�That�s what I was scared of.�

If we can�t even touch the crystals without waking the Dragon, then we�re in trouble. Not completely screwed, since we could potentially hide till it leaves, but we don�t know how long that would be. And the longer we wait, the higher the chance something else will go wrong or some other monster will find us. Add in the fact that we�re on a deadline of sorts, and I�m not sure we can wait long enough for it to awaken naturally. Still, I have a little time, so I spend it watching the flow of Mana, trying to understand the connection.

Wind flows, snow gusting in a bit from the outside, depositing snowflakes on the crystals. The Dragon breathes and crystals shift, seconds turning to minutes to hours. Inside the cave, nothing much changes and I gain no enlightenment.

In the end, I make a decision. A hand twists, slowly packing a small snowball before I take aim farther down the cavern. A gentle toss and I watch as the snowball arcs, splattering against the ground and breaking apart. It�s only slight, but a crystal moves, shifting in position.

A snort and a rumble as the Dragon turns uneasily in its sleep. Claws knead the crystals beneath its talons, its tail shifts, then slowly, slowly it settles. I find myself exhaling slowly, not realizing I�d held my breath.

Another snowball, this time a little larger, a little more compact. I choose another spot, a distance away from the first, and toss it before shrinking back against the wall. A futile effort if the monster wakes. The Dragon shifts again, obviously cognizant of the changes in its hoard. Twenty minutes later, when the Dragon has settled, we pull out, making sure to leave as little disturbed as possible.

Well, time to scrub that plan and come up with a new one.

�John!� Lana calls a relieved greeting as we arrive back at our resting spot finally. �Did it work?�

�There are complications,� I reply while shaking my head.

Unsurprisingly, that comment makes everyone perk up and gather around. When everyone is there, I quickly explain what we found. Interestingly, everyone gets a quest update too for the information on the Dragon and its hoard. It�s not just seeing it that matters, it seems, but actually knowing about the Dragon�s mana manipulation.

�So we need the Dragon to not be there when we do this, eh?� Lana says, and I nod.

�Guess we�re going to be waiting a bit.� Eilon rubs his chin as he stares outward.

I know his feeling. We�re safe here, mostly, from random monsters. Too close to the lair for random monsters to stumble on us. But�

�The longer we stay here, the more chances the Envoy has of causing trouble. And the year will be up soon,� Mikito says.

Unconsciously, we all look it up, checking the countdown. Two and a half weeks. That doesn�t leave us a lot of time at all.

�Not it,� Ali says immediately.

�What?� Eilon looks at the Spirit while Lana snorts.

�He�s not volunteering to be bait,� I explain.

�Not it,� Valeria adds, and I mentally groan.

�Why do we need bait?� Jazae asks.

�Well, duh. We need it out, so we should make it come out. That means someone has to be bait,� Ali explains.

That a number of the group are nodding is not good, especially since the plan was never to interact with the Dragon.

�I should point out that our quest was to bring you here and back. This portion of your journey is entirely up to you,� Eilon adds. �In fact, if you intend to do this, I�m requesting that you give my team a chance to move to a safer location.�

I stare at the Death Knight, pale white flames dancing in his eyes, and I try not to feel betrayed. He�s doing the right thing by keeping his team away from this insanity. Mentally, I understand. Emotionally, I want to scream and shout at him. The simple fact is that we�ve been at this for ages and tensions are high. I force myself to breathe deeply instead of replying.

�That�s fair, Eilon,� Lana says. �And fighting the Dragon is still not the plan. We just need it out of its lair.�

�When we hunt moose, it is easier to call them to you rather than search for them. Can we not do the same with the Dragon?� Ingrid asks. �There is so much land out here��

�We set up the bait beforehand then attract its attention. Draw it to the location we want while a second team sneaks in and completes the mission,� I finish, nodding. �That can work. So we split three ways. Eilon and his group head off, escorting the bait team till they break away. We give them time to get away and have the bait team set up. And the third team waits here for their chance.�

I get nods all around, then we get digging. The rough plan is there, but the details still need fleshing out.

Two days later, we�re finally ready to do this. Here I am, all by myself on the frozen plains, corpses all around me. We discussed and planned this every way, and in the end, even if the original plan was mine, the best place for me is right here. Playing bait. Of course, Ali bitched and moaned about it, but he�s here too, floating alongside me, listening to his latest singing reality TV show. For all his bitching, the Spirit is a good friend.

I walk in a spiral, dumping corpse after corpse from my Altered Space, their bodies cooling immediately. Steam comes off some. Others are already so close to frozen they just land with a thud. A feast for our Dragon. This is all or nothing, so I�m getting rid of it all.

Other than Ali, I�m the only one here. Mikito, Lana, and her puppies are with Eilon and his group, farther down the icefields. Ingrid is at the cave, waiting for me to make this work. When I�m finally done, the bodies artfully displayed, I draw a deep breath and work up my courage to take the next step.

Drop the bodies, move away, and hide a distance. Remotely trigger the explosives I�ve set up in the center of the spiral. Sit back and wait and hope that the explosion and resultant spray of blood and bone will be enough to awaken the Dragon. A simple plan that should be easy enough to do.

What I didn�t expect was that by the time I�m done, I�ve attracted quite a bit of attention. Most of the monsters involved ignore me as I run away, the feast in front of them too damn attractive. Unfortunately, most does not mean all. I get a half kilometer away before I get pounced.

Even when it hits me, I can�t really see it. Sabre�s shield takes the brunt of the damage while I spin, the sword I conjure cutting lightly into a paw. A spray of blood as I hit, then it�s gone, the monster�s invisibility exerting itself fully. Just a second and all I saw were claws, scales, and a hissing visage that looked like a cross between a tiger and a dinosaur. That, and it�s information.

Zainuk Stalker (Level 121)

HP: 4338/4538

MP: 1529/1787

Conditions: Invisible

I throw up a Soul Shield, crouching low and edging to the side as I search for the monster. Ali�s got nothing and neither do I, so I can only wait. I spin around slowly, hands held wide and to the side, almost taunting it to strike at them. When the next blow comes, I�m two thirds turned away from it. Claws strike my arm, the shield surrounding it sparking. By the time I recover to swing at it with my sword, the Stalker is gone.

Again and again, it taunts me with strikes even as I back away. When I draw my hands back, making it have to come a little closer to attack me, I can never hit it. Attacks come quickly and from my blind spots, striking at my legs, my shoulders, draining the shields at an alarming rate. Frustration mounts as fast as my shields fall, each blow by the monster dropping ten to twenty percent of my shields. First, Sabre�s goes and then Soul Shield.

�Help?�

�Sorry, boy-o. Can�t see anything. Also� ummm� you guys are attracting more attention,� Ali sends back.

I take a quick glance and realize that the monsters attracted to my meal are tearing through it pretty fast. And some on the edges have decided that it might be better to find food outside of the main pack.

If they finish everything before the Dragon comes, we might not be able to keep it here for long. Hell, it might go looking for what woke it up. Neither of which is optimal. We want it annoyed, with an easy target, and well fed.

The next attack by the Stalker tears through my armor and claws open my leg, flesh parting like plastic wrap under the assault. I stumble a little and the monster jump on me, throwing its weight against my body, claws punching through armor. I fall and roll around, landing on my back as a great weight lands on me. It pins my arm and chest, a scaly, long-nosed snout rearing back to finish the job.

�Do it.�

At the same time as I send the thought to Ali, I trigger the sonic pulser. The explosion and the sonic attack distract the monster on top of me, giving me time to buck off the creature. I roll and twist, triggering the mini-missiles that splash and solidify, trapping the monster. For a second, I think it�ll work, the monster outlined as it struggles around the fast-set concrete. Then it surges forward, shattering its encasing, hissing through rows of needle teeth.

Not fast enough to avoid the Blade Strike I send crashing into the charging monster, tearing apart scales and flesh. The blow rocks it, and it darts sideways, dodging the follow-up attack, then it�s gone again.

I snarl, edging away and eyeing Mount Logan, wondering when we�ll see a reaction. Where the bodies were, a small distance away, the planted explosives have left a giant crater, flames from the white phosphorous still burning through the snow. Some of the smarter monsters have fled, others have fallen to preying on injured brethren, while some of the greediest have just returned to eating.

The next attack rips armor along my chest plates, opening up my chest and armor. Stumbling back, I know the follow-up attack is coming, my sword held in front of me as I get ready to fight back. I�m trying to figure out another way of dealing with my attacker and wishing I had the QSM. I keep backpedaling, waiting for the next attack. It never comes.

Fear Effect Resisted

The roar that emanates from the lair shakes the ground, even kilometers away. Snow ripples, an avalanche begins on a distant mountain, and the monsters stop their current activities, turn tail, and run. Emerging from its lair, the winged Dragon soars into the sky and circles as it gains altitude.

�Move, boy-o!�

Realizing I�m just standing there, not moving, I boot it as well, going from standstill to a full sprint. Once I�m certain the Stalker is doing the smart thing, I trigger the switch, Sabre transforming into its bike mode. Wheels inflate, sliding down from the back, armor pulling away from my extremities and back even as the gravity plates trigger, keeping me afloat as the transformation occurs. The transformation is smooth, and within seconds, I�m riding the gravity bike and beating a hasty retreat.

As I gun the bike and let her rip�metaphorically, since the bike is entirely silent�my mind is rolling over my options. Me being delayed near the food was considered and planned for, but not as thoroughly as we could have. Adding the fact that I�m injured and bleeding alters the equation further.

So long as we�re on level ground, Sabre�s faster than the Dragon. Probably. Problem is, pushing her at any serious speed will drain her Mana battery, and while the recharge rate in the higher-level zone is amazing, it might not be enough. The fight and the use of Sabre�s shield earlier means I start running away with the battery at 86% charge. Worse, while the fields are mostly flat, there are a number of mountains, hills, and ridges that jut out. I�ll have to curve around them and avoid other known dangers, all of which the Dragon can ignore. In the long run, even with my initial head start, things could be dicey. Really dicey.

Right now, the goal is to put as much distance as possible between myself and the other monsters. The more we spread out, the easier it�ll be to tell who the Dragon is going after. After all, there�s no guarantee that I�ll be picked on. Until we split apart enough, it�s all guesswork. If the Dragon decides to go after other prey, I just need to find a spot and hide, making sure I don�t attract any further attention. So long as the Dragon isn�t too annoyed, it shouldn�t be willing to waste its time hunting me down.

As I gun the bike and hunker down low, willing every ounce of speed possible from the bike and my Skill, I pray the Dragon isn�t chasing me. If it is, my options are significantly less attractive.

Chapter 16

There is a statistic, an attribute in our status screen, titled Luck. For most games, the Luck attribute is broken. It either does very little or it does too much. There�s no real middle ground�and really, for such an obscure-sounding attribute, that�s no surprise. Defining the attribute and how it works guarantees that someone will try to exploit it. It�s why good game developers keep the information hidden.

Call it luck. Call it fortune. Call it random chance. We humans have a tendency to blame our misfortunes on a higher power, on things we cannot control. Or at least that we don�t believe we can control. I�ll admit, I did�I do�the same. I dumped points into Luck, thinking I could tilt the odds in my favor. A lifetime of bad fortune and bad breaks, now regulated by an impartial System.

It�s a sweet lie that a few points here and there can change your life. It�s the same lie that faith healers, homeopaths, and diet plans peddle�that with just a few easy steps, you too can change your life. No mess, no exertion, no pain.

I moved north and my girlfriend broke up with me. But I should have paid attention, noted the long calls and the long trips up here, the way she avoided my touch when she came back. I lost a job, but I could have put in more effort rather than coasting by, doing the minimum amount of work necessary to avoid being the first person on the chopping block. I could have saved more, eaten out less, canceled the cable TV I barely used.

That�s the thing�past choices impact our future, sometimes in ways we can never foresee. All the choices I made before led me to this park when the System came into play. That gave me a slew of powerful Perks, granted me a chance to survive and thrive. Gave me something to do that truly mattered. Not just another client�s shitty corporate website, but something meaningful. Something important.

We make our own luck, and whether good or bad, we�ll never know.

Which is a long way of saying that I�ve got a Dragon on my tail, annoyed and probably going to rip my head off when it finally catches me.

About ten minutes into my ride, we�d plotted the Dragon�s path and knew it was coming toward me. There were still a few other monsters it could have been chasing, so I kept low and pushed Sabre even more. Five minutes after that, it was pretty clear the Dragon had decided that the unnatural, technological marvel was the cause of its premature awakening.

In the corner of my eye, I see the power bar. 78%. �How long?�

�Well, if Ugly doesn�t pick up speed again and you don�t have to curve around another mountain or the wind doesn�t��

�How. Long,� I snap at Ali, knowing he can plot the go-point better than I can.

�Six minutes. Give or take.�

Mostly take. I look at the map again, wishing there was something, anything I could use to hide. Unfortunately, on top of the mountain range as we are, on snow-packed glaciers, there are no forests to hide in or caves to duck into. That means all I can do is run until it�s time to kick off the next part of the contingency plan.

We�re moving at around 210 kilometers an hour, faster than I�ve ever pushed Sabre. Yes, yes, I know that F1 racing cars can go faster, and hell, some car racing enthusiasts have done more�but they don�t have to worry about monsters and traps trying to kill them.

I have to admit, there�s a shot of adrenaline to this, a thrill I never felt in my pre-System life. I never drove a car anywhere as fast�and I don�t think I�d be able to do this with Sabre without my enhanced attributes. As it stands, my arms are twinging from the exertion of holding my body down as winds buffet it.

There�s a fine line to this. The faster I go, the higher the drain on the Mana battery. Do that too long, and Sabre stops and I get eaten. Go too slow and the Dragon catches me and eats me sooner rather than later. Either way, at this point, I�m about to get eaten.

Of course, there�s no subtlety, no stealth to this. Which means sooner or later, I�m likely to run into trouble. Even as I think that, an Ice Worm breaches the ground ahead of me. I swerve, the link sending my mental commands to the PAV even before my body can react. I curl around it, missing its mouth by inches.

�Time?� I send to Ali, breathing deeply as I try to get myself to calm down.

�Two minutes.�

Ahead of me, a herd of brown-furred, six-legged wannabe wooly mammoths in a circular, defensive formation. They have tusks and horns and are about twice the size of an elephant. They are at the minimum Level 105, their fur so strong that my guns won�t penetrate to do any real damage. The only mercy is that they�re placid creatures. For System animals.

That means that instead of charging me, they only lash out when I�m close, heads dipping to wave ice-covered tusks and horns at me or to whip trunks at my speeding form, their actions generating waves of spiked ice. Can�t afford to stick around, so when I close in on them, I gun the engine and whip past them. The sudden burst of speed throws off their aim and the Soul Shield takes the few attacks that manage to hit, dropping ever lower.

I still lose a bit of time, swerving around the group and ducking between waves of ice, draining the battery further as I push the gravitics and engine. I watch as the battery drops by another five percent and I grit my teeth.

�Time.�

Almost at the same time that Ali sends that thought, I hear the explosions. Each set is another twenty kilometers from the initial explosion, on opposite sides of each other, creating a simple triangle. Explosives dug into the ground, encased with ice and System-generated meat.

I risk a glance back, seeing the Dragon stop its direct pursuit, banking to the side to consider my distractions. I turn back to the road, listening to Ali�s report.

�He�s circling and rising. Higher. Higher. Oh crap� yeah, he�s got enough height to call the bluff, boy-o. Sorry. He�s straightening out and coming for us.�

The explosions were meant to draw the Dragon�s attention. They were kind of a last resort, never meant to be set off. A way of giving me a chance to get away while it flew off to investigate. It didn�t work. That�s it. No more tricks, no more plans. All I can do is hunker down and trust in Sabre. Run and hope.

71%.

�Persistent little lizard, isn�t he?� I growl. I�m long past where I should have met Lana and Eilon and the rest of the team. I�ve blown past them and numerous other monsters in my headlong rush out of the icefields.

47%.

I smile grimly, watching the numbers flicker again. Even as I weigh the new numbers in my mind, another imperious roar erupts behind me, a reminder of my pursuer.

Fear Effect Resisted

Shuddering, I push aside the effects and correct Sabre�s course. I force myself to breathe properly, to even out and calm down. I might resist the effects, but that just means I still have conscious control. It does nothing for the gnawing pit in my stomach, the adrenaline surge, or the slight tic in my eye. Or perhaps the fear effect is so great that this is the result even after being resisted. I no longer have the adrenaline or the distraction of a fight, so I can only hunker down and push past it.

The only good news is that the Dragon�s occasional roar of irritation has ensured that my way forward is cleared. I�m making great time, mostly because anything and everything with half a brain has gone into hiding or otherwise taken a defensive posture.

46%.

Minutes seems like hours, the bike speed having dropped to a sedate 90 kilometers per hour. I peer ahead, my eyes peeled for the slightest motion that might indicate a dumber monster than usual. Searching for potential exits, maybe a cave or two I could slide into and eventually lose the Dragon. But the terrain is barren, beautiful, and absolutely boring. There�s only so much white you can see before your brain just stops registering it. Within minutes of the roar, my mind drops back into the meditative state it has acquired from driving through the icefields.

Behind my visor, my eyes narrow as my vision shifts, the flow of Mana and energy becoming clear to me again. I see the currents of Mana, the ripples of energy that powers everything in the System and beyond. A slightest twitch of my hand and I guide Sabre into the deepest currents, the Mana engine pulling deeper and recharging the battery faster. It�s a miniscule improvement�the sheer depth of Mana in this zone is staggering as it stands. But every little bit helps, every iota of power we can draw forth gives me a few more seconds as the kilometers flash past.

45%.

The state I�m in, the mindset that allows me to tap into my Mana Manipulation skill, is the same one I use for exploring my Elemental Affinity. Manipulating both is not physically hard. It�s not even mentally difficult to see the lines of power, not right now when the pressure is on, when every movement, every thought, every second matters. The only problems are the occasional roars, the screams that make my body shudder and twitch even as I force myself past it.

Lines of energy, waves of forces, shifting all around me. There�s so much, I still can�t grasp it all. In some ways, I find it easier to focus as the shifting flows of Mana overlay everything, hiding some of the interactions from view. Yet the more I watch, the clearer the interactions between the two forces are. Mana is the air, the substance that everything, even the Elemental Forces, resides in. And yet when manipulated, it can affect the forces directly, increasing, decreasing, loosening, or tightening bonds.

We�ve crossed the Kluane Glacier, all 160 kilometers of it. The zone notification tells me as much, if not the change in the scenery. Barren, snow-swept glacial lands lead to frozen rivers that I glide down, taking the twists and turns as fast and tightly as I can. Each time I do so, I lose ground to the monster above me, the thread of worry gnawing at my gut.

�Boy-o,� Ali sends, pulling me from my thoughts, �he just picked up speed.�

I blink, the vision falling away, the memory of what I grasped disappearing. The minimap tells the story as the monster closes in. It�s only a few kilometers away now, each flap of its wings bringing the Dragon closer. Fast. Too fast.

29%.

That�s it. That�s all there is. I have no choice but to push Sabre, even if it means the battery drains faster. On the other hand�

10%. That�s when I�ll stop and turn around. Because if we hit 10%, I�d rather fight and die than get caught running.

�So� I�ve been thinking.�

�What is it?� I send back.

Before he can reply, I shudder, my hands clenching the handlebars as the roar comes, shaking its frame and creating spidery cracks in the snow. Echoes of its roar cascade back, but the initial effects die away, resisted once more.

�I might be able to adjust our speed a little. Reduce the air resistance of us moving by manipulating the molecules ahead.�

�Sounds good to me.�

�Yeah, about that. I�ve never done it before, not in this state.�

�What�s the worst that could happen?�

�Boom.�

�Still better than chomp,� I point out wryly.

�On it.� Ali floats down, his body just above the front of Sabre.

For a moment, nothing seems to happen. Then I notice it. The slightest shift, a minor alteration in the air resistance. Our speed ticks up slowly for a moment, then I drop the power usage. Our speed drops again, but it�s easier to breathe, to hold my position. We creep back up as Ali gets better at it.

Through our connection, I can feel some of the concentration Ali is exerting, the focus that is required to do all this. It�s like a diamond edge of pure concentration that cuts into my mind unknowingly, a shared pain that the Spirit forgets to block.

Curiosity tugs at me and I open myself up to see what he�s doing. Colors flow, forces shift and swirl under my eyes, and I see the little Spirit, hands splayed outward, surrounded by tendrils of golden force. Those tendrils flow outward, wrapping the bike and the air ahead of us in a cone of power. Lines of force between molecules dance as electrons and protons, hundreds, thousands of them are manipulated. The sheer complexity is breathtaking, something I can�t even presume to grasp. So I don�t.

I watch, and eventually, I reach out, taking a bit of the burden off the Spirit. I join him, focusing on Sabre and myself. I have no chance of matching his ability, of touching and adjusting millions of air particles before they hit us, but the PAV and myself? That, I can handle.

Pain comes with this. My body feels as if it�s being pulled apart, nerves on my skin on fire. Worse is the mental strain, a pounding headache growing in intensity with each second. Pain that leaches through my mind, and in a corner of my mind, I feel the strain on Ali increasing as well.

Above, in my display, I see my hit points drop. The System might compensate for some damage, but what I�m doing to Sabre, to myself, is too great for it to handle. I don�t have the expertise, the skill that Ali has.

But it�s working. Even as I�ve dropped power on the bike, we�ve sped up. At first, keeping pace, then slowly out-distancing the Dragon. I hear a roar, but I�m so focused, so wrapped up in the pain that surrounds me that the fear effect doesn�t even affect me.

My world narrows further to my Affinity, the bike, and the terrain before me. It narrows till all I know is that. And nothing else.

A shift in the flows in front of me finally draws me out. Something has changed. Something significant. Only when I realize that Sabre is beeping and slowing, the Mana Battery drained, do I understand what happened. The change is due to how much slower we�re going, the bike no longer able to sustain forward momentum. It�s only good programming that shuts down the engine before the anti-gravity plates, ensuring we don�t just crash.

I lick my lips, tasting blood from my nose. My head throbs, my eyes are sandpaper dry, my mind muddier than the edges of a leech-filled lake. We�re stopping� something important about that. Something to do with movement and speed. Something�

My mind snaps awake, understanding flooding through me. Perhaps the System heals me sufficiently or perhaps I just needed time, but I remember why. I look at the minimap, searching for the tell-tale deep black of the Dragon. Nothing.

�Ali!�

�Flurgle-wurk .�

�ALI!� I shout as I twist around the bike, searching the skies. Nothing. Nothing at all.

�What? I�ll be right there, Heidi,� Ali mutters. �Just got to get the chocolate��

�Ali. DRAGON! Where is it?� I snap, craning all around.

��shǐ.� Ali finally pulls himself together enough to pay attention.

Silence, but I keep my temper intact now that I�ve got a semi-coherent answer from the Spirit. I can tell, through the connection that is slowly fading into the corners of my mind again, that he�s mostly back to normal. Interesting that I could sense him like that. I�ve never before, but then again, he�s never been that distracted either.

�Nothing, boy-o. Well, okay. No Dragon,� Ali says, frowning. �Pulling up historical data��

I ignore his mutterings as I guide Sabre to a nearby clearing before it finally comes to a full stop. I get off the bike as it drops like a stone, my feet sinking into the ground and compacting snow and earth as the vehicle shifts into battery-saving mode. Walking away from the bike for a bit, I eye the surrounding trees and skies, searching for trouble. Nothing.

�What happened?� I whisper, my memory foggy. All I remember are the streams of power, of riding and riding. Around me, I notice the snow-covered trees, a feature that was missing from the icefields. How long were we driving? How far did we go?

�Right. So the Dragon dropped off about twenty minutes ago. Turned around about a good forty kilometers back, twenty kilometers after we exited the last zone change,� Ali says. �We must have gotten far enough away from its lair that it decided it�d had enough.�

I nod slowly. That was our only hope really, that we moved far enough away from its lair that the Dragon would decide to return. It wasn�t as if we had actually damaged its lair or even attacked it. All we did was disturb its sleep.

A small, niggling part of me wonders if the team might have done something else to draw it back. Another explosion, another attack. It�s a niggling worry, one that I can�t shake. Especially since being out here, wherever here is, means I can�t head straight back to Whitehorse or contact them. On the off-chance the Dragon just got distracted, I need to make sure it�s not about to hunt me down. The last thing I want to do is lead it to Whitehorse.

For now, all I can do is wait while Sabre slowly recharges and I figure out where I am.

Chapter 17

Where I am is about a hundred kilometers or so north of Haines Junction. Following the Kluane Glacier and the river that led out of it meant I swung much farther north than I had planned. It puts me a good hour�s drive from Haines Junction and another three or so�on the highway�from Whitehorse. Hundreds of kilometers away in the best of conditions.

It also puts me smack dab in the middle of a Level 80+ zone. Not completely insane, considering Sabre gives me a bit of a boost, but not ideal either. In fact, standing around quietly while I wait for the bike to refill its battery to a useful level leaves me feeling pretty exposed.

�I�m really getting a feeling of d�j� vu here,� I think to Ali.

�Under-leveled, all alone, and with some big nasty potentially about to eat you?�

�Yup.�

�Yeah, it�s real nostalgic. I was kind of hoping we�d given up on this part of the insanity,� Ali sends back, a wry tone in the thought.

I smile, slowly stretching and reveling in the lack of pain. There�re a lot of things I hate about the System�the way it forces us to join it, the constant shifting evolution of monsters, and the need to kill and fight constantly�but its ability to heal damage quickly and constantly is a blessing. Having lived with the on-going pain of tendinitis, I can�t help but revel at the lack of pain most of my life now involves.

�So, boy-o, figured you�d want to see this,� Ali says and twitches his hand.

A few seconds later, data pops up in windows.

Mana Manipulation Increased to Level 28

Elemental Affinity Increased to Low

System Quest Update (+500 XP)

As you increase your understanding of how to manipulate Mana, so does your understanding of how the System influences Mana.

�A few other updates on skills too, but nothing particularly important,� Ali adds as I finish reading.

I grunt, considering the new information. One of these days, I really should take a look at my skills list�but as Ali pointed out a long time ago, what�s the point? I can either do it or not�it doesn�t matter if I have points in a skill or not. That and staring at numbers, watching them go up just for the sake of the increase, seems a touch narcissistic. I�ve got better things to do than stroke my ego.

�Four hours,� I mutter, staring at Sabre.

You know, this is the first time in a while that I�ve actually been in a zone that would be a challenge. Lips pursed, I stare into the forest, my hands flexing unconsciously. I have four hours�

�Oh hell, here we go again��

Sneaking through the snow-covered forest without the backup of the QSM or Sabre is probably not the smartest thing I�ve ever done. On the other hand, I kind of justify it as not wanting to be near the mecha if the Dragon decides to come back. If it does return for some reason, the chances are it�ll be within the first twenty-four hours. After that, if it doesn�t hunt me down in a week or so, I figure it isn�t that interested and I�m in the clear. I�m probably being a bit paranoid to wait that long, but in this case, paranoid works.

What it does mean is that over the next little bit, I�ve got nothing better to do than go hunting. Luckily, I�ve got all the gear I need to live out here by myself, and with my Altered Space, I�ve got the space to store any corpses I come across, so I won�t even be losing out that much.

Of course, first I have to find monsters. Even the low-level critters that would make up the ecosystem of a high-level zone are scarce. Mostly, I ignore them�there�s little point in killing oversized rats or lightning squirrels. Not only will it not give me much experience, it�ll mark my location to some of the predators. While I�m not opposed to the fight, I�d rather be the one doing the stalking than the other way around.

An hour and change of me slowly wandering through the forest finally finds me some proper trouble. Peeking around the edge of the tree, I stare at a group of long-limbed, humanoid monsters with grotesquely long noses and oversized fingernails. Pale white with grimy black hair, the creatures huddle around a brazier for warmth.

Huldrekall (Level 78)

HP: 470/470

MP: 1030/1030

Conditions: None

A quick count brings the total on hand to eight monsters. With the hit points they have, they won�t be particularly hard to kill. Hard-earned experience tells me that if they don�t have significant levels of hit points, that generally means they hit hard. Truthfully, I�d prefer the other way around since I�m not running Sabre right now.

Based off pure levels, I�m approximately Level 70 right now, give or take a few levels due to my unique situation. However, the numbers by themselves don�t tell the full story. Within each Class Level, there are variations in the strength of Classes. These are generally categorized as Basic, Standard, or Prestige Classes, with each level indicating the differences in both attributes gained and Class Skills available. Of course, it isn�t exactly clear-cut�with so many variations, it�s inevitable that there are Classes that provide Standard increases to attributes but have horrible Class Skills or vice versa. Still, it�s generally believed that monster levels are rated for Standard Classes.

That means that an equivalent Basic Class would be seriously underpowered facing the monsters ahead of me, while a Prestige Class of the same level would be roughly twenty percent more powerful. Of course, that assumes the individual has a Prestige Class through both Beginner and Advanced progression, which is not a guarantee.

Add weapons, training, and the unfair advantage of access to the Shop and a large Credit pool and you begin to realize why levels are, at best, a bad approximation and, at worst, a misleading statistic. Taking all that into account, I shouldn�t have a problem with just one of the Huldrekalls. There are, however, eight of them, which means I have be smart about this fight.

I guess it says something about me that I don�t ever consider not fighting them.

Twenty minutes later, my preparations are complete. Nothing too elaborate this time, since they do say that surprise triples your force. I figure surprise and a bag of high-tech weapons puts us just about equal. About 30

away from me on either side, a pair of automated beam-rifles sit on their mounts. The targeting mechanism on the rifles isn�t particularly sophisticated, but attacking from surprise, they should do their jobs. Beneath our feet and facing outward, I�ve got a series of explosives set to go off once the rifles and I are charged. As a fallback position, I�ve linked a pair of Chaos grenades and smoke grenades.

In an ideal world, I�d have set up another surprise or some explosives on the other side of the clearing as an additional distraction mid-fight. Unfortunately, the trees over that way are pretty sparse, and even working slowly, I�ve probably taken more risks than I should have setting up the weapons. Making my way all the way over there and back might be pushing my luck too far.

I�m ready, so in the end, there�s nothing to do but kick it off with a bang. Or in my case, a slowly and carefully built-up Fireball that takes a few seconds to cast. I toss it overhand toward the center of the group. Three of the eight are staring roughly in my direction and look up at the movement, the fastest already standing as the Fireball arcs toward them. The other five are clustered around the brazier, alternately rubbing their bodies or holding their hands toward it in an attempt to get warm.

What looks to be lousy security practices are shown to be extreme confidence in their shielding. The Fireball splashes against an invisible barrier and explodes, flames washing over the group and outward in a truncated sphere of flame and smoke. Even as the fire dies down, I�ve triggered the guns, whose beams do just as little.

Three of the Huldrekalls stay crouched, hands held toward the brazier. The other five twist toward the threats, raising their own hands. In seconds, the clearing is filled with magic�shards of ice, swirling green balls of power, and cyan rays of light slamming into my pair of portable shields and my Soul Shield. I twist and duck, scrambling away even as the portable shields fail within seconds.

Oh shit. Mages were not what I expected. I recall the Mana portion of their attribute and kick myself mentally. I should have guessed�but actual monsters with the ability to cast spells is just new. Ali, hovering low to the ground, is waving in concentration as he remotely works one of the beam rifles, taking over from the automated targeting software. Assuming those three who didn�t rise are supporting the shield, I can�t win this fight. By the time I chip away at their shield, mine will have failed.

So I call a strategic withdrawal, scrambling away as fast as I can. Howls erupt from behind me, the noise so alien I can�t tell if it�s rage or excitement. Alongside the cries is a sudden explosion, then silence as my rifles are destroyed. Within moments, Ali is darting alongside me, flying backward and fading through shrubbery as he keeps an eye on the monsters.

I zig-zag as I retreat, trying to throw off their aim. My Soul Shield fails a few seconds later, a cyan ray of power tearing through my torso and cooking flesh beneath it. A stone dart clips an elbow and tears a chunk out of my thigh before I finally scramble over a nearby rise, disappearing from view. In my haste to get over, I flop flat and slide down on my back, leaving a wide and clear trail of blood as I dig snow into my open wound. A hand twists and turns, pulling forth a health regeneration potion that I drain. My sword in my other hand digs into the snow to help guide my descent.

�Gotcha,� comes Ali�s triumphant cry, a cry punctuated by a series of explosions and a sudden in-rush of air. Inrush?

Huldrekall Slain +784 XP

(Out of level and Dungeon World resolution bonuses applied)

�What the hell?� I send to the Spirit even as I leg it further.

Ali rarely bothers to show me this information, though in this case, the knowledge is useful. From my minimap, I can tell the Spirit is on his way to me, having stopped briefly, but the addition of a glowing red dot is troubling.

�Chaos grenade opened up a rift, sucked in one of the Huldrekalls before it closed. The other Chaos grenade joined two of the Huldrekells together. That�s the new dot,� Ali sends back.

The Chaos grenades look to be buying me time, even if the smoke grenades were drawn into the rift. As I run away, I can�t help but glance at the small rearview window that my helmet overlays, hoping to see something. Which is why I catch the glimpse of the column of white light that slams into the hilltop behind me a few seconds after I�ve left it.

�Satyr�s hairy butt,� Ali swears. �That would have hurt!�

�That was for you?� I send back, feeling irrationally cheated. They didn�t throw anything that nasty at me.

�Yeah. So that Chaos grenade? It kind boosted mashy-boy.�

�Thousands hells.�

That piece of information is enough to make me pick up speed. Not that it helps. When the combined monster crosses the ridge, my mirror treats me to a firsthand view of the spell it�s casting. The only good thing is that the spell has a bit of a lag-time in forming, so I manage to get partially out of the way. Even then, the light sears away my armor and cooks my flesh, my hair sizzling beneath the strike. My legs are the worst damaged, being the longest in there, nerves on fire as I bite back my scream.

I land on the ground and roll, the cold snow a relief along cooked flesh. Powerful regeneration or not, the bubbled flesh and stripped bare muscles will take a while to heal. Pain pounds me. A bare few months ago, it would have been enough to put me down, leaving me curled up in a corner and whimpering. Long days and hundreds, maybe thousands, of battles have seen me cut, stabbed, impaled, burned, and torn. I�ve been injured again and again and had to fight through it. This? This is bad, but it�s not the worst I�ve had. A glance at my hit points shows I�m down to half, most of it from that single hit.

First things first�I throw up a Soul Shield. Second, I cast Greater Regeneration, layering the heal-over-time effect on the potion. Thirdly, I trigger Blink Step, getting away from the lights forming above me as Ugly casts his spell again. Should have done that earlier, but that�s the thing about fights�you do the best you can, and sometimes, you forget to do the right thing. I Blink above Ugly, calling my sword into hand and triggering Thousand Blades a micro-second later.

I drop, falling like a stone, ready to cut apart the combined Huldrekall. It�s an ugly sight, the Huldrekalls that made up this creature having been smushed together like an angry toddler with new plasticine. It�s a monster, a Frankenstein creature with an oversized heads and multiple limbs, screaming in pain through one distorted mouth while its health slowly see-saws as the System alternately punishes and rewards it.

It doesn�t see me until my blade cuts into the top of its left shoulder, tearing through skin and bone. My angle of descent changes with the attack, and I end up falling sideways a bit more than I�d like, so I twist, shifting my trajectory. That pulls out my sword, but the creature is already turning toward me, a hand waving through the air. Bad for it, good for me as the follow-up blades cut into its newly exposed body.

I make my sword disappear a second before I fall, my extended hand hitting the ground first, then my elbow, absorbing a little of the impact with each second. I twist and roll, pain flaring through my arm and shoulder and back before flaring into aching agony when my legs hit the ground as it reminds me that I�m still not healed. Above me, the monster roars as my blades take their tribute of muscle and bone.

Just like I knew it would, his life points drop like a stone. No defense, all attack. Unfortunately, while I�m rolling to get back up, it�s his turn. A pair of raised hands, separate spells forming. Then Ali is in front of its face, distracting it with music. It�s loud and brassy, screaming guttural heavy metal of some form. The distraction works for one hand, but the other stays pointed, Ice Darts pinging off the Soul Shield. Funny that the Soul Shield didn�t react to my drop when I reappeared

Sword reappearing, I lash out diagonally, calling forth a Blade Strike. Once. Twice. Thrice in quick order. Blades of projected power impact the monster, ripping skin and breaking bone. Injuries pile one on another as it staggers backward, an arm flying off from the final attack.

Before I can throw a fourth attack, a beam of power hammers into the side of my Soul Shield and cuts right through. Flesh sizzles and my reflexive flinch sends me twisting away and off the crest of the hill, rolling down the packed snow. I dig fingers into the snow, pulling myself to a stop while Ali jinks above me, drawing fire and dodging as best he can.

A Fireball spell thrown above to explode near the combined Huldrekalla. The creature attempts to dodge, but the Fireball is an area-of-effect attack. No dodging a giant sphere of flame, especially when it curls and reflects around the hill. Finally, finally, it dies and Ali, dodging back to me, flicks up damage reports for the two Huldrekall on the other side of the hill that got caught in the blast radius. It�s mostly incidental, but it�s better than nothing.

I have a few seconds before they cross the ridge, so I take it to cast a Greater Healing. Between the regeneration effects and the spell, I�m back up to half my health again, which isn�t great, but I can survive. If I can avoid getting hit, I can win this. I don�t know why they split up, but without their shield, it�s now just a question of who can hit harder and more often. As I pull myself up and crouch low, I can�t help but grin widely. My turn.

Never split the party. Even a non-gamer like me knows that rule. Every time you do, bad things happen to you. In this case, the bad thing is a pissed-off Chinese man with a grudge. Blink Step takes me in close. My sword, my fist, and a few spells do the rest. By the time they get a bead on me, their health is already a sliver of what they started with.

The trio at the base camp who keep up the shield are the only ones who survive. I can�t take down their protection, not with all three of them supporting it, and an attempt at Blinking in results in me bouncing off the shield itself, my body shuddering with shock as an overdose of Mana runs through my body. Luckily, they don�t drop the shield, just staring at me with disapproving and angry eyes.

The loot from the System from these guys is weird. I don�t even know where to start with the crystal skulls I�m given. Like most things with the System, you just have to shrug and move on. That being said, there�s something strange about looting and storing dead humanoid corpses. Even if I don�t see them, I can�t help but feel that it�s a bit morbid to carry around humanoid corpses in my Altered Space. Perhaps it�s because with a good squint, you might even call them human.

After I give up on killing the remainder of the Huldrekall, I make my way back to Sabre. By the time I get back�after swinging wide and hiding my tracks as best I can�she�s charged enough to be useful again. After tossing the remnants of my skinsuit armor and dressing in another one, I�m pretty much good to go again.

I�ve got a week till I�ll consider it safe to head back. Add another week or so for the rest of the team to make it back to Whitehorse. That gives me two weeks and change to train out here by myself, and now that I�ve got an idea of the actual degree of difficulty, I can truly begin. I learned something while running away, tapped into something new. I�ve got two weeks to figure out if it�s real or just another pipe dream.

A mental command has Sabre wrap itself around me before I stride forward. Time to get to work.

Two weeks. Two levels in that time. The out-of-zone bonuses and the Dungeon World resolution bonus both helped in the experience gain, along with the fact that I�d been most of the way to my last level before I started. Having nothing better to do but hunt and fight for two weeks has been very good for the experience gain, even if I took the last day off to relax and meditate. For what�s coming, I want a clear mind.

The hunting and fighting wasn�t just for the levels. I�d picked up some new abilities and toys a while ago, and fighting alone, I have a chance to really test them out. The Freezing Blade spell is interesting, if not as useful as I�d hoped. It�s cumulative but not directly�it seems to be somewhat multiplicative. So the monster kept getting five percent slower than before, which meant after four hits, they might be only twenty percent or so slower than they started. Still pretty good, but not groundbreaking. On top of that, the duration isn�t a guaranteed minute since resistances can reduce the duration by varying amounts. Sometimes on the same monster type.

Since I have a very limited supply of webbing missiles, I declined to test them further. I know how they worked and I�ve tested them enough. The sonic pulser is probably my favorite toy of the lot, since its attack often gives me a brief opening to lay down the hurt. Polar Zone sort of helped but wasn�t powerful enough in its current level to add more than a minor slowing effect. It was nice if I needed to muddy up the fight or slow down a group, but the mana cost made it less useful than Freezing Blade for single attackers. Of course, I had to hit with Freezing Blade first, while it�s hard to escape a damn blizzard.

Once my prey was slowed or otherwise disabled, Fireball became the go-to spell, especially against the cold-resistant monsters that run around out here. Lightning Strike did the same damage as usual, but it didn�t have the benefit of Elemental Weaknesses being applied to these monsters and it�s more dependent on the situation. Fireball throws up a giant sphere of damage; Lightning Strike hammers attackers that are close to each other.

I also realized I was beginning to have problems with having too many choices. Sure, a bunch of my Skills are passive, but between my weapons, my Skills, and my spells, I have a plethora of options for any fight. Having to balance Mana usage among Skills and spells and decide which option is best became a headache. One that, on a few occasions, had seen me get hurt while I decided on the optimal choice.

All things considered, I�d probably be best limiting anything else I bought for a little bit until I got used to using what I have. Or perhaps just focusing on upgrading each Skill, spell, and weapon. It�ll keep decisions in battle easier.

Two weeks of grinding has definitely helped smooth out my fight style and gained me the pair of levels. Before I finally take my leave, I take one last look at my status screen.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1700

Stamina

1700

Mana

1310

Mana Regeneration

98 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

161

Constitution

170

Perception

Intelligence

131

Willpower

133

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Tech Link*

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

It�s a pity I never hit Level 40, and one of the reasons I�ve been pushing so hard. But my leveling has slowed down ever since I hit Level 30, and gaining two levels in two weeks is amazing. My System inventory is full, my Altered Space is full, and I�ve used up the vast majority of projectiles and missiles. It�s time to go back and get this done.

Chapter 18

Before the System, it would have taken me four hours or so to drive back to Whitehorse. Roughly four hundred kilometers. A tiny road trip by Canadian standards. Except that was before the System, before the winter and a highway that hasn�t been cared for in nearly a year. Now there are monsters and snowbanks and a smorgasbord of dangers in the way.

The choice is always to go fast or slow. And when you put it that way, of course I�m going fast. Gunning down the road at just over a hundred kilometers an hour, the sounds of the wilderness drowned out by the wind screaming around me, I shoot past groups of monsters before they can react, before they can hope to launch more than a few attacks. The few attacks that hit bounce off.

Ali is flying ahead of me, scouting for potential problems. And there are some. Trees that have fallen, creating impromptu barricades. Snowbanks that have accumulated to the point that Sabre couldn�t take them straight-on. Ambushes laid by monsters�spells to slow or capture prey, ropes and vines to block off escape, once even the corpse of a previously slain giant.

I have a day and advance warning, so I take the threats straight-on for the most part. Most ambush creatures just don�t have the ability to take a punch, and when counter-ambushed, they end up slain easily enough. Four times, I avoid the fight. The first is the shifting, amorphous humanoid figure that had slain the giant. That Ali couldn�t read his Level was warning enough.

The second is another group of Huldrekalls crouched above a brazier near the road. Memories of their powerful shield spell are enough for me to avoid that fight. I don�t have time to draw them away, and running into a prepared position against those guys is a bad idea.

The third happens at a river, a group of water elementals crouched under the tottering bridge. No way was I going to start a fight with a bunch of elementals standing in their element. The last group is a bunch of tiny humanoids that looked like children. Their levels were extremely low, but I draw the line at some things and killing creatures that look like human children is one of them. I still have nightmares and flashbacks to the Goblin dungeon, tight corridors and small bodies clutching each other as we did what needed to be done.

A day and a bit to get back to Whitehorse. I admit, I take great pleasure in sneaking into the city, bypassing the walls. Of course, I couldn�t bypass the shields if I hadn�t had them keyed to me already, but coming down the cliffs from the airport keeps things quiet. Sneaking in while its dark, I take the time to make sure no one sees me as I enter the City Center and sell my stuff at the Shop. Refueled and rearmed, I exit the Shop to find Vir waiting for me.

�Adventurer Lee,� Vir says, inclining his head.

�Vir.� I look around, noting that he�s the only one here. �Roxley not back yet?�

�There was a slight delay. He will be here in two days,� Vir says.

�The others?�

�Not here. Did you fail?� Vir asks, his eyes tightening in concern.

�Depends on what the others say. We were separated,� I answer, my lips flattening. �Plans changed.�

Vir�s face twists as conflicting emotions war for control. In the end, he nods resignedly. �They always do. It will be less than optimal if your team failed.�

Less than optimal. The euphemisms that we use. �Will Roxley be able to handle his end?�

�My last communique with him indicated his side of the plan is progressing well,� Vir replies. �We will be able to trigger the first part of the plan.�

Unsaid is the truth that the first part of the plan doesn�t matter if part two isn�t ready. Unfortunately, we don�t have much of a choice�each part had nearly as much lead time as the other. All we can do now is wait.

�Should I?� I incline my head toward the door.

Vir stays silent, considering the question. I can understand that. I was never supposed to be back here alone. My presence could throw things off. But on the other hand, you don�t have so many people disappear and not raise a few suspicions. Having me here alone could buy a little more time. Time that we need for my team to show up. On that note�

�Should we?� A thumb jerks backward toward the floating silver sphere, the connection to the Shop.

�Trust in your friends, Adventurer,� Vir says, shaking his head. �Best make yourself known. Might make them ask a few more questions.�

�And if I�m asked?�

�Be your usual friendly self,� Vir states flatly, getting a choked laughter from me.

Right. Rude works. Rude definitely works.

Breakfast the next morning in the Nugget is an affair. I get more than a few looks, but no one is willing to talk to me, to be the first to breach the cone of silence I sit in. Food arrives, hot and delicious, and I eat and eat.

�Labashi,� I greet the Major when he arrives, my message having finally gotten to him.

�Adventurer Lee.� Labashi drops his big, bulky, green ass in a chair. He glances around, eyes roving over the plates of food and drinks and my sole presence.

�Got something for you.� I nod to Ali, who floats over, a hand hovering over the table for a few seconds before the tinkle of fallen electronics and metal resounds through the room. Scraps and dogtags taken from the fallen Hakarta that ambushed us rain down

�Ah�� Labashi stares at the pile, running his fingers over the scrap. Tusked lips twist before he takes them into his inventory. �My thanks.�

�How much did they pay you?�

�Enough.�

�You know, I�m less than impressed with this. I understand why, but still, less than impressed. So you�ll do anything for the right amount, eh?�

�Not anything. We will not destroy the Corp�whether it be physical or with acts that would be anathema to the acquirement of future contracts,� Labashi says. �What we can and will do is covered in our contracts.�

�Good to know. Now, about our Contract.� I lean forward, fixing him in the eye. �I figure trying to kill me pretty much invalidates any previous relationship or contract.�

�And if I disagree?�

�Then we�re going to have a spirited discussion, right here and right now.� I open the gates and let my anger out, let him see it. My hands clench, my breathing tightens, and unconsciously, I shift forward in the seat slightly as I ready myself for battle.

The Hakarta doesn�t flinch. He doesn�t even seem particularly worried. No big surprise. He�s got a ton of levels on me and probably more combat experience than I�d care to guess at. My threat to him, personally, is less than spectacular. Then again, that isn�t the point.

�Very well,� Labashi says as he reads the determination in my eyes. �A pity, but understandable.�

Contract with Labashi Rukar Voided

�Well played, boy-o. You were right that he wouldn�t want to keep the contract if you pushed it. Not anymore,� Ali sends. �Still, did you have to threaten him?�

�Have to? No. Want to? Yes.� I nod at Labashi, letting him know I�ve received the notification. I sit back, breathing slowly as I put a lid on the anger.

�John�� Labashi stops, frowning before he continues slowly. �You do understand that we know of your plans. Yours and Roxley�s?� I grunt while Labashi continues, his voice low. �Standing up to me, while foolish, is courageous. Doing so with the Marquisse is foolhardy. She knows Roxley has secured additional loans. They have already taken steps to backdate the taxes owed.

�Your own attempt at the icefields has obviously not worked the way you wished it to. It would be a waste for a promising warrior like you to throw away your life in a futile battle.�

I keep my face utterly still while he speaks. I�m not good enough to fake a reaction, so I go with the non-reaction route. It�s not great, but it�s better than nothing. Growing up in my family, keeping my feelings and reactions muted became almost second nature. I let Labashi stare at me, dark green eyes searching my brown ones for a reaction.

The Major sighs, shaking his head. �Adventurer Lee, it was interesting meeting you. And I hope you understand that none of this is personal.�

�No. Not personal,� I murmur, watching him leave. Just cataclysmic.

Watching the Major leave, I know I�ll have to stick around and keep their attention for the next few days. Have to be prominent enough without being too interesting. The last thing we want is for them to really dig.

The ship drops out of the atmosphere to land at the airport with nary a noise. It�s enormous, three times the size of a 747, wide and bulbous. The ship, shiny green steel, is bulbous and twisted, using force fields rather than physical structures to streamline the body while descending. It�s a transport ship, big and blocky and perfect for traveling between the stars and occasional landings. For a transport ship, it has quite a few guns sticking out at all angles. Makes you wonder if Roxley chose the ship because of the additional weaponry or if interstellar travel is just that dangerous.

Anyone who is anyone is here, waiting on the ship to dock. Capstan, Vir, Amelia, most of the hunter teams, and a bunch of curious lookie-loos. And of course Labashi, his people, the Envoy, the Weaponmaster and his guards, looking as if they�re just here because they�re curious and not because a giant transport ship wasn�t part of their plans.

When the ramp drops and the doors open, Roxley walks out, dark green hair framing pointed ears on dark skin, clad in a new left-button tunic in silver and gold. What�s missing on the tunic is his house�s crest, the small embroidery of crossed sword and rifle worked into Tuinnar words. I never did ask what they meant. Roxley�s lips are twisted in a mocking half-smile as he walks down the ramp, a small distance between him and the other Tuinnar, who follow hesitantly. Those behind him span a wide range of body types, from short and stubby to tall and elegant, old to young. They all carry some form of weaponry, but their clothing is informal, relaxed, and lacking the armor plates of hunters or adventurers.

As interesting as Roxley always is, I�m more curious about the Envoy�s reaction. Her eyes narrow as Roxley comes down, taking in the change of appearance and the growing stream of Tuinnar citizens, who are met by Vir and Minion in all their officious capacity. Within seconds, the newly arrived Tuinnar are escorted to the back of the ship where their belongings are being unloaded under the watchful eyes of an ex-baggage handler. The corralled help are efficient, if unskilled.

�Lord Roxley,� Lady Priya the Envoy says as she walks up. Her eyes rake his trim form, stopping for a brief moment on the missing crest. �What is the meaning of this?�

�A minor correction. I am no longer Lord of the Seven Seas, Lady Priya,� Roxley says, eyes glinting in humor. Not that she wouldn�t know that if she didn�t look carefully.

�So it is true then. You have given up your claim on the Seven Seas.� Lady Priya stares behind him at the people exiting the freighter. �And those behind you? Traitors the same?�

Flanking her, the Weaponmaster clenches his fist slightly, while Labashi looks bored.

�No traitors. Just citizens invoking their right of free movement afforded to all,� Roxley says.

�You emptied the barony of your people,� the Envoy hisses. �You took them all out and hid that fact from watchers. The barony is nearly empty, devoid of citizens. You have weakened your House.�

�Not my House, as I have stated.� Roxley steps forward, lowering his volume even as he raises his intensity. �You, your Duchess, and the Duke gave me no choice. You gave my people no succor, no help when we needed it. When we sought to better ourselves, you raised our taxes and forced me to choose�to wallow in our poverty or to strive for something more. Are you surprised that we chose not to lie down and die?�

�And so you took the Credits you borrowed from the disreputable and dishonest and decided instead of paying your taxes to hire the freighter,� Lady Priya says, dark eyes glinting. After a moment, she laughs, peals of laughter that ring out through the tarmac. �Well done. Very well done. You have dealt with one of our plans. �Now what?�

�Now my people go to the City Center and purchase places to stay, stores, and land throughout Whitehorse. And with their help, their funds, we should meet our target. In time to ensure that my Contract is fulfilled,� Roxley answers, hands behind his back.

�Ah, of course. And with that, our legal leverage,� Lady Priya says, continuing to smile. �Except, well, Ms. Lafollet?�

Miranda walks forward, the matronly lady bundled up in layers of sweaters, jackets, and a toque against the cold. �Lady Priya?�

�I believe it is time for us to complete our transaction,� Priya says imperiously, turning to stare at the cold-looking older woman.

�You asked me to come out here to do this? I could have done this at home. Inside,� Miranda says, hunched around the cold. �Some of us didn�t put points into Constitution you know. It�s -40

right now with wind chill at least.�

�Ms. Lafollet, the deal,� the Envoy says, her voice making the air even chillier.

�Fine. Fine.� Lafollet raises a hand. After a few quick stabs at an interface only she can see, she adds, �Done.�

Priya turns to Roxley, looking to gloat before she pauses, her lips tightening as she reads over a screen only she can see. �What is this?�

�All the lands owned by the City Council, as agreed upon,� Miranda says. �The city building and the dayhome.�

�Where are the parks? The butchering yards?� Priya snaps. �If you haven�t completed your end of the contract��

�The System would know and have registered it,� Miranda says, shaking her head. �If you look, you�ll see the contract is complete. We did what was agreed upon. Now, I�m going home where it�s warm.�

�How�?� the Envoy begins, her eyes narrowed.

Capstan, who has been quiet thus far, rumbles a reply, �You spoke with the City Council, but never the General Council. All those lands you are looking for, they are held in trust by the General Council. City lands, city property.�

�You sold them�� Priya shakes her head. �No. Impossible. I have notifications with the Shop. You could not have outbid me.�

�We didn�t. Those lands were transferred long before you came,� Capstan says. �We had certain� problems with the City Council before you arrived. Much has changed, and while the human council stands, the General Council is what makes the decisions and owns most of what you seek.�

I swear, I can almost see the Envoy�s desire to growl or stamp her feet. Instead, she twists her fingers as she manipulates the System notifications. After a moment, she turns away from the screens to stare at Roxley, her voice calm once more. �It certainly seems you have won this round. You will have your town upgrade. Congratulations.�

At those words, she stalks off, trailed by the Weaponmaster and Labashi. Roxley watches her go for a moment, lips thinned.

�Well, that went well,� Ali says, drawing a slight smile from Capstan.

�It is but the beginning, Spirit.�

�Duh,� Ali says.

Roxley walks up to me, lowering his voice as he nears. �John, good to see you.�

�And you.� I glance at his hair. �Changed it again?�

�Yes. Like it?� The Tuinnar flips his head, sending his hair billowing around him. I grunt at the display, even if I do enjoy it. �I thought it appropriate, considering my new status.�

�About that�� I place a hand on his arm. �Are you okay with this?�

Roxley�s face flashes with anger before he smooths it out, his voice calm and controlled. �Of course. As I mentioned, they gave me no choice. At least here, my people have an opportunity to improve.�

�I�m sorry�� I begin, unsure of what else to say. Roxley just gave up his birthright, his peerage for his people and this city. I have no idea what that�s like�I�m just a pitiful commoner after all. Still, no matter what kind of brave face he puts on, it couldn�t have been easy.

�Nonsense. This was the least of my duties.� Roxley turns, letting his eyes rake over his people, who are already tramping down the staircase toward the city that�s set at the back of the cliffs.

I grunt, falling silent. Fine. If he doesn�t want me to say things like that, I won�t.

Still, as I turn away, I catch his last whispered words. �And thank you.�

Since the Envoy hasn�t decided to kick things off yet, there�s nothing more for me to do. Not yet. Now all we can do is wait for the other shoe to drop.

�Mikito.� I exhale, spotting the young lady at our shared apartment.

She lowers the naginata, looking drawn and tired before nodding in greeting. A hand moves up, twitching, and I exhale as I see the notification.

�You did it,� I say, relieved.

�We did,� Amelia answers, making me jump and spin.

I dismiss my half-conjured weapon, growling at the black-haired First Nations woman as she smirks at me. �Lana?�

�She�s alive. Out of town,� Mikito answers, waving outside. �Her pets aren�t particularly sneaky. She�s at the Cutoff.�

My chest releases, a tension in my shoulders and back that I hadn�t realized I had been carrying finally relaxing. �Any casualties?�

�No more. The dragon stuck around for a few days, so we had to go slower than we liked. After it went hunting and finished eating, we were able to get back without running into much trouble. Now if that�s it, we�re going to sleep.�

The pair walks to the bedroom, long weeks on the road obviously having taken a toll on them. When the door closes, I find myself slumping against a nearby wall, knees suddenly weak. This might just work.

Chapter 19

Another three days pass without incident. The newcomers are welcomed into the city, nearly doubling the city�s population with their presence. As expected, their Credits and land purchases are sufficient that we finally cross the eighty percent threshold, triggering the transformation of the city from Village to Town and stabilizing the Mana flow all around. I think it�s the fact that people can now walk the city without looking over their shoulders that helps with the integration of the newcomers. At least the number of incidents Amelia has to deal with is down, even if the numbers of aliens have grown.

Whitehorse is no longer recognizable as the town it was before. With the integration of the newcomers, the gradual transformation is now complete. Shops owned by the Tuinnar and the Yerick have transformed the downtown core, many of them widening doorways and changing architecture to suit our new alien friends and their taste. Some of the changes are subtle�lights that shine slightly cooler than normal, counters that are a little higher than normal. Other changes are more drastic as our alien guests make things their own-automated steel doors, liquid metal doorways, or wide-open stores protected by clear shield enclosures.

It�s more than architecture though; it�s the populace. We still don�t have a public transportation system, so most people walk. Of course, the occasional high-tech car, truck, bike, or giant rolling armored personnel carrier makes an appearance, but mostly it�s pedestrians. A mixture of humans, Tuinnar, Yerick, and the occasional Kapre or other exotic alien wander the streets. Everyone but the smallest child carries a weapon or two on them at all times, a hard-edged wariness in their movements.

Three days of relative peace and quiet as the downtown changes quickly under the combined efforts of the populace and the System. Three days till the alarm goes out. Practiced movements clear the streets within minutes as hunters head to their posts and civilians hunker down for the danger to pass. Those that don�t know what the alarms are are quickly told. No one is surprised, but this time, it�s not a Swarm. This time, it�s something more dangerous.

�How many?� I ask when I finally make my way to the wall at Robert Service Way.

Roxley, Capstan, Jim, and more of the usual suspects are here, waiting. Interestingly, Vir and Amelia aren�t, but I guess they�re at one of the other posts. Not that we intend to fight. If we have to, we�re truly hosed.

�Most of the Company,� Roxley answers.

�Not military,� I reply.

�One hundred twenty-three, boy-o,� Ali answers loudly for everyone�s sake. I�m glad he did. I�m sure there are others who had no clue as well.

�That�s quite a few,� I mutter. They outnumber the full complement of our hunters, Adventurers, and guards. Not to mention the fact that their lieutenants and sergeants probably out-level the majority of people here. Heck, some of their privates are probably just as strong as ours.

�Not unexpected. A show of force might bend us to their will without a fight,� Capstan rumbles. �My people will not fight a losing battle, Lord Roxley.�

�Not a lord anymore,� Roxley absently corrects while he stares at screens only he can see. �And I understand. I will not be placing any of our people in that position.�

That quiets the group, and we end up standing around in silence, many pondering his words. It�s not as if we�ve spread the full plan around much. I stare at my minimap, watching the dots shift and move, telling a story of what is to come.

The Envoy stands at the front of the column, Labashi and Hondo next to her. The gleaming group of black-suited Hakarta move in well-ordered columns on foot, a pair of large, hovering vehicles with an intimidatingly large gun trailing behind them. A series of smaller vehicles follow the mobile artillery pieces, each of those vehicles wielding their own smaller but just as worrying weaponry. Not as many vehicles as you�d expect, but the data Ali sends me about them tells the real story. Each of those vehicles are hand-crafted and fully registered, built up lovingly and carefully tendered by mechanics. They�re the equivalent of any four mass-manufactured vehicle and probably have a few tricks Ali isn�t aware of. The entire column moves in lockstep formation, taking their time and letting the sheer force of their presence do all the talking.

The column comes to a halt a distance away, and the Envoy walks forward flanked by her minions, ahead of the company of armed and armored Hakarta. She comes to a final stop a hundred meters from the wall. Well within range if we decided to shoot. She doesn�t need to worry though. We aren�t going to be the first one to shoot and she knows it.

A brief hesitation, then Roxley steps forward, dropping over the wall onto the ground. I follow him a second later, Ali floating down alongside me. The others, the rest of the team, stay above since this conversation� well, it�s just going to be a few of us.

�Mr. Roxley,� Lady Priya says coolly. �We are here to take the city.�

�As the humans say, the gloves have come off, have they?� Roxley looks at me. �Why do you say that? It seems silly to take them off, especially in these climates.�

�I think it�s got to do with the way people challenged each other to duels before,� I blithely answer, ignoring the Envoy.

I see the Weaponmaster twitch at the blatant disrespect. He steps forward and is held back by the slightest shake of the Envoy�s head.

�Your actions do you no favors for when the city is taken,� Lady Priya says. �Your obstinance and childish actions will, in fact, reflect badly on your people.�

�Don�t do me any favors,� Roxley says, that sardonic smile on his lips. �If you take the city, I will not survive. Having me alive does your Duchess no good. Though perhaps you will return me in chains to my former Duke. I�m sure he would be happy to extract his own form of vengeance.�

�Are you intending to fight?� Hondo steps forward, and now the Envoy doesn�t stop him. His lips twist, sneering. �You have not the people to stop Labashi and his men. And if you think you can beat me��

�Actually, that�d be me,� I interrupt Hondo, walking to the side to give myself space. Sabre�s wrapped around me, protective armor and its shield and mine enclosed around me.

�You?� Hondo smirks, holding his hand out to the side. The polearm, a too-familiar polearm, appears. �I beat you without breaking a sweat last time.�

�Me. You know, you guys are very predictable. Is it because you don�t think we�re worth it?� I ask, shaking my head. �Did you not think we�d take steps to deal with you? We knew you�d do this. It was a predictable play. So we needed a counter for it.�

�Your trip to the icefields. Yes, we know. You gained a few levels, but you failed in acquiring the loot you needed to hire your own mercenary company. Insufficient funds for the fight. Pity about the deposit,� Lady Priya says, shaking her head. �Did you really think that would work?�

�Not really. Be nice if we did, but not really.� I turn to Labashi, my eyes glinting. �Major, what would it cost for you to fight an Elder Dragon?�

�We would not,� Labashi says. Droll and bored though his tone might be, I see him glance up and to the side. �Are we expecting one?�

I fix my gaze on the lady. �Depends on what the Envoy decides.�

�If you�ve done with the melodrama, perhaps you�d care to inform us of what you did?� the Envoy says.

I chuckle softly. I let the silence extend for a bit, waiting, waiting, waiting until just before she�s about to speak again. �We planted a bomb in the Dragon�s lair. Left enough material in it so that when it explodes, it�ll leave a ton of evidence of who did it.� Before they can object, I continue. �And no, it isn�t powerful enough to kill it. Heck, it probably won�t do much more than annoy it. But it�s planted right in the center of the Dragon�s hoard, and the explosion should, at least, damage that.

�Way I understand it, Dragons aren�t particularly forgiving when things happen to their hoard. I wonder what it�d do to any person, city, or entity that would dare damage its hoard?�

�We have nothing to do with that,� Lady Priya says, but I can see her heart isn�t in it. She understands.

�No. And you�re welcome to take the city. But the moment you do, I�m pulling the trigger.�

�And you doom yourself and your friends.�

�Yes, there is that wrinkle. But since you and the System decided to come to Earth, every day seems to be the day I�m going to die. At least this way I get to say I punched a Dragon in the nose,� I say, keeping my voice light and flat. I have to, because under all this, my rage has begun to froth. �And before you ask, my friends know. We all signed up for this.�

�And the civilians? The humans you are looking to protect?� Lady Priya turns, staring at Roxley. �Your people?�

�Adventurer Lee told me once of a period of time in human history called the Cold War. Two superpowers facing off against each other but living in peace and prosperity for many years. All because of something called mutually assured destruction.� Roxley sighs. �But you are right. I could not do this to my people.

�That�s why Adventurer Lee has the trigger.�

Oh shit.

Hondo doesn�t ask for permission, moving in a flash. He crosses toward me, swinging his polearm in a strike meant to decapitate me. If not for the fact that I�ve layered my shields, he would have. My reflexive jerk doesn�t get me out of the way of the initial strike, Sabre�s shield flickering and failing as the blow lands.

The second attack I manage to block, my sword catching his polearm, sparks flashing as the blades clash. I keep my sword in hand, calling forth another with Thousand Blades to block the next strike with my other hand, then it just becomes a flurry of strikes. Between the blades, my shielding, and Sabre�s armor, I manage to get away without getting hurt too badly during the initial rush.

I trigger the sonic pulser, the shrieking throwing Hondo off for a micro-second as the Tuinnar refuses to let up. Long enough for the missiles to launch. This close, Ugly slices a couple apart, but this time, all that means is that their payload explodes closer than I�d like. Hondo still takes the majority of the coating, but I get splashed too, the mixture slowing me down as I scramble aside. I circle away from Hondo, pulling myself apart from the little of the insta-concrete as I call forth my last additional blade.

Even as Hondo breaks free, I�m triggering Blade Strikes with all three weapons, arcs of power cutting through the air, each wrapped in the icy-glow of the Freezing Blades spell. The Tuinnar dances through the first two cuts but gets hit by the third, slowing down slightly. Then again and again as I layer attack after attack. Each attack slows him a little more, evening out the fight.

Slowed down or not, he still makes his way to me, thrusting with the polearm and forcing me to give up my attacks. I can keep up with him now, I�m even a little faster, but he�s still more skilled. A strike I never see coming, a projection of attacks that chip away the shield, then a powered cut that rips right through it and the chest armor leaves me sprawled out next to the Envoy. I catch his last attack with my blade, shifting it aside just enough that it plunges into the right of my chest and not left.

I grab the weapon, trying to stop the Weaponmaster from pulling it out. I succeed, mostly because Ugly�s not trying to do that. He twists, opening my wound wider and making me choke on blood, pain racking my body. I can feel Frenzy wanting to activate, to take over my body and finish this fight, but I push it aside. Not. Yet.

When the blade comes out, pulled from my weak fingers, I scream and gurgle in pain. Polearm raised, Hondo begins his final strike, not even bothering to use a Skill to finish me off. Only a last-minute twitch in his body and a weak deflection by me keeps it from decapitating me, instead leaving a long cut along my face that I barely feel. The polearm stays buried in the ground next to my face as the Tuinnar arches his back in pain.

�That�s for Bill,� Ingrid snarls, pulling her daggers from his body. �And that�s for Luthien.� Another Skill-aided stab, the Assassin now fully in view.

Hondo is too high level for her to sneak up on while he�s paying attention, but during the fight and just before he finished me? Obviously she�s good enough to do that. Even with her Skills and her attacks, the son of a bitch is still standing.

Hondo Ehrish (Weaponmaster Level 39, Master of Blades and Guns, Slayer of Orcs, Goblins and Unika, Destroyer of Monsters, The Unbroken Warrior)

HP: 1,775/4,340

MP: 1,183/1,900

Recovering from the attack, Hondo shows his mettle as he shrugs off the freezing effects, poison, and shock effects, and strikes with the body of his polearm as he levers it out of the ground. The haft hammers into her center, the muted crack of the blow landing and the much louder snap of broken bones resounding through the road. The blow sends the Assassin spinning through the air to land, crumpled. The way she�s twisted, the angle of her back speaks of very bad things.

I struggle to my knees, grip Hondo by the top of his armor before he can continue his attack, and pull him toward me as I crumple backward. Hondo releases his polearm to lash out with a fist, cracking my helmet. Another strike smashes into my face again, throwing my head back against the ground and splitting my head protection. A third strike crashes through the helmet, and I feel my nose break along with one of my cheekbones.

�A sneak attack, human? Is that all you have? Tricks and subterfuge? Answer me!� Hondo punctuates the last few sentences with strikes, pummeling my face and cracking bones, sending my health spinning down.

�Can�t. Concentrating,� I manage to spit out.

There. Right there. I find what I�m looking for in him, around him, and all around us. Holding tight to the connection I can feel through my Elemental Affinity, I give it a nudge. Just the way I learnt to do. Just a little.

My words only briefly confuse Hondo, but it does resolve his desire to finish this. He raises his hand, the fist glowing red with an activated Skill. Even as he throws the attack, I get my feet on his hips and I kick upward with both feet with all the strength I can muster. The shove sends him flying through the air, higher and faster than even my System-aided muscles should have been able to do so.

The Elemental connection frays, threatening to disappear as he moves away faster than a speeding bullet. I hold on as tight as I can to the connection, my eyes fixed on his disappearing body. I hold on to the connection with everything I have, my eyes fixed on the glowing tendril that spools out from my body with every second.

In seconds, he�s out of sight and the connection snaps, leaving me groaning as the rebound pounds into my head. Everything disappears for a second, backlash and damage from the fight dogpiling my consciousness and shoving it under the bus after having their way with it. It�s only the automated software in Sabre that injects me with healing potions and slowly brings me back to consciousness, my health given a temporary boost. Ali is whooping it up, laughing his ass off.

�What did you do?� The Envoy strides up to me, her eyes wide.

Hondo is gone, arcing through the air to land somewhere. Enhanced or not, it�ll take him a long time to get back.

I look up, coughing hard as my body heals the open wounds and spraying Lady Priya�s beautiful green gown with a touch of blood. I reach out with a bloody hand, gripping hers for a second before she pulls it away with a sniff as she steps back. Done.

�Friction. Boy-o killed the friction all around the lunk.� Ali laughs, shaking his head.

�You�� The Envoy pulls her hand back, murder in her eyes.

�Enough!� the command, sent with all the force of personality and Skill that Roxley can wield, freezes everyone for a second. �Enough, Lady Priya. Attack again and I will not stay my hand.�

Lady Priya nods jerkily, stepping away from me as she looks back toward Hondo. I can see the wheels turning in her mind. �Something this intricate would not be reliant on the Adventurer alone for its final success.�

�Got it in one, lady,� Ali says. �There are a few people with the trigger, including John. Killing him won�t remove the threat.�

I can see Lady Priya working the plan over, working the angles. I would say something, anything, but I�m finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

�A few more things to note. We have just marked you and the Weaponmaster. When the Adventurer or any of the others die, the explosion will trigger thanks to a deadman switch that now implicates you and Hondo directly. Along with the Adventurers, of course,� Roxley says, walking forward.

�My Duchess��

�Will not want to trade yours and the Weaponmaster�s services for the shell of a border town on a new Dungeon world. The trade-off is inequitable,� Roxley states.

�Splashdown, boy-o. Roxley needs to get this finished.�

I�d say something, anything, but my breathing is rough. The wound he opened in me is stopping me from speaking, and all my spells, all my attacks have drained my Mana. I mentally trigger a second dose of the instant heals, knowing the backlash will harm my regeneration but needing to be healed right now. At least enough�

�Enough�� I croak before spitting out globs of congealed blood. �Leave. And stop bothering us.�

�I will��

Roxley steps forward, approaching the Envoy and lowering his voice. He speaks in Tuinnar, and for a second, I can�t understand it. Then Ali translates and the words sounds familiar, even if they don�t make sense.

�Parley� parsley� party.� I find myself giggling slightly, the world swimming in and out of focus.

�Redeemer?� Capstan walks over to me, squatting and frowning. He pokes at my wounds, then he growls, picking me up even as the sound of trees crashing erupts from the forest.

Hondo comes rushing in, looking pissed. Before he can reach us, a wolf hits him low, hamstringing the Weaponmaster. As he stumbles, a flash of fire erupts, sending him sprawling. Even as he struggles to his feet, Lana is walking out from the treeline, unloading blast after blast from her shotgun. She hits him a few times before he dodges, only to be met by Mikito. They dance, polearms clashing and striking in circles of death that are dodged by millimeters.

�Hondo!�

The command freezes the Weaponmaster and he disengages, stepping back swiftly. Mikito, crouched low, is holding out her naginata, watching the Weaponmaster warily as she bleeds from a cut along her leg.

�We are under the rules of parley,� the Envoy says.

I relax into the big, furry pillow carrying me. Finally.

Chapter 20

Double dosing the healing potions added to the poison effects and the damage put me down for hours. If I had to guess, the accumulated stress of the past few months didn�t help either. Double dosing harmed the System-gifted regeneration so sufficiently that it was supposedly touch-and-go for a few minutes, the continual bleeding and poison effects dragging me down. Good thing both a pre-System doctor and Nelia were on-hand at the wall.

I get filled in on the blanks a little later. When Hondo attacked me, the Hakarta didn�t join in because they were only hired to attack the city. A finely-cut line by Labashi, but one he insisted on holding. The Envoy didn�t dare move since Roxley had headed her off, and everything happened so fast, she never got a chance to renegotiate the deal with Labashi.

�So they left?� I murmur to Roxley, who has come to visit me in the apartment. I�m fully dressed and seated on a comfy sofa, staring at the Elf.

�Yes. The parley was successful. We reached an agreement that will ensure that Whitehorse will stay under my control,� Roxley says slowly. �I had to make certain concessions.�

I frown, staring at the Tuinnar. �Why?�

�You know why. The threat could only hold them for so long. We still needed to get a signal to the bomb, and once they blocked that, we�d be back to square one. We had a small window of opportunity where the cost of taking us on outweighed the compromises they had to make,� Roxley says, his voice calm and collected.

�What did you give them?� I reply, my voice tight with doubt.

�Me. I am Lord Graxan Roxley of the Yukon now, or will be soon,� Roxley answers. �I answer to the Duchess as the ruler of Whitehorse, Fairbanks, and Juno. All the lands between are claimed by us, and we will expand until we have it in fact, as well as name.�

I blink, trying to understand why they�d hire him. After all this. �Why?�

�It seems the Duchess admires men with spirit and the ability to thwart her. Rather than destroy us, she prefers to co-opt useful assets. Our continued rebuttals of her attempts have moved us into the asset column.�

�So they won,� I hiss as the initial shock wears off. �You gave them everything. Just for a job.�

Roxley is calm, though there�s a touch of wariness in his eyes and stance. One that most would miss, but I�ve been around the damn elf long enough. �There was no other way to win. We were never going to stand them off, never win fully. You cannot have expected your plan to last forever.�

�No, but we could have found another solution, another way around. Earned the Credits to hire our own forces.�

�At what cost? Putting the city�s progress back months, years? This way, I have control, the ability to ensure that nothing happens that I do not want. The city will grow, prosper, and at a higher, better rate than before,� Roxley insists, leaning forward. �This is the best way.�

�Best?� I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. �Best. For you perhaps, Lord Roxley.�

�Damn it, John, for the city. This way, we�ll be able to pay you and Lana back for your loan from the foundation. We�ll be able to build the city up and make it safe. Make it a real place to live in again,� Roxley says, reaching out a hand for me. �You have to trust me on this.�

I pull away from the reaching hand and point at the door, my voice low and hoarse with controlled emotions. �We�re done here.�

�John��

�Go.�

Roxley walks to the door, where he pauses and turns to me, his voice low and raw with emotion. �Damn you, John. Your naivet�, your insistence at finding your own way will kill you. And others eventually. I made the right choice.�

I don�t answer, turning away to stare at a wall.

Roxley stands there in silence for a second before he speaks again, his voice calm and controlled. �There was one other thing. Hondo is furious that you managed to disgrace him like you did. They will return in six months to check on the city. It is best you not be here then.�

In the silence of the empty apartment, a pain in my gut, an emptiness in my chest consumes me. I reach for my anger, that comforting old friend, and find it elusive, hiding. I shut my eyes and curse myself for trusting as I work on blocking the pain away. No one to blame here. No one but me. I should have known better.

Lana finds me later, lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling. She squats next to me, placing a hand on my arm. �I�m sorry. Ali told me that Roxley told you.�

�Huh?�

�John�� Lana looks at me, concern in those violet eyes that I love to stare at. She squeezes my arm till I give her my attention. �Are you okay?�

�No,� I answer truthfully, my lips twisting in bitter recrimination. �I should have known. Eric warned me. Should have known��

�It�s not that simple,� Lana says, squeezing my arm again. �You know that.�

�You on his side now?�

�I�m on the truth�s side.�

�Huh.� I stare at her, that gnawing pit in my stomach aching, and I snap. �Fine. Just go.�

�John��

�Just leave me alone,� I say before reining in my temper a bit. I hold up a hand placatingly as I grind out the words. �Not that I� well, not� I just need to be alone. Please. Not trying to be an ass, just not in the place to be good company.�

Lana compresses her lips, obviously struggling not to say something as she searches my face. Finally, she stands. �I�ll be around. You don�t have to do this, you know, not alone.�

I give her a quick nod. She�s right. But just because she�s right and I can now acknowledge that doesn�t mean I�m ready yet to take help. Finally she leaves me to brood alone in the darkness. Except for Ali, who I have to threaten to banish before he shuts up. So many deaths, just to find ourselves under her thumb anyway. No control, no say, just another group of slaves to an uncaring Lord and the System.

I sit and think, wondering about the choices I made and the lives I�ve sacrificed. All for this bittersweet victory.

Epilogue

Congratulations! The planet you know as Earth is now a fully integrated Dungeon World.

We�re impressed. 9.69% of you humans managed to survive the transition period. Some of you even managed to develop some impressive cities in this year. All survivors have now been Credited a one-time survival bonus of 20,000 Credits.

As a new Dungeon World, there might be some little irregularities with regard to zone levels and monster spawns. Expect new and exciting immigrants as Mana flows stabilize. We hope you�ll accept them with open arms and provide the necessary information and goods to make their experience in your Dungeon World a pleasant one.

Once again, welcome to the Galactic Council!

Cheering and screaming resounds through the city as bottles of beer, wine, and champagne are popped and shared. Humans, Yerick, Tuinnar, and Kapre all rejoice as the notifications appear, celebrating their survival. The humans most of all, as the Credits appear in our System accounts.

On a stage, Roxley is chatting with the General Council members, shaking hands and passing words of congratulations. Seated on Sabre, a short distance away, I watch the celebrations, plates of food flowing out from the Nugget and other establishments, as the band plays and dancers take to the street. It looks as though it�ll be one hell of a wild party.

I watch it for a moment more, drinking in the scene and parking the celebration in my memory. I even drink a mug of beer that gets passed to me. When the initial jubilation dies down, I tap my new helmet control, letting my new headgear form around me.

I�m not angry�well, not much�about how it all panned out. Betrayed and hurt, but not angry. Not anymore. If I could go back� but I can�t. So it is what it is, and Roxley is right�the city is in better hands with him than before.

�You know, we could wait a day,� Ali says longingly as I swing Sabre around, the silent Mana engine pulling us forward on the road out of town.

We could. We could stay, enjoy the party, bask in the celebration. Even let a few people know that we�re leaving. I�m sure some of them want to say goodbye, might have words or gifts to commemorate my leaving. But this way is better�less emotion, less awkwardness. I don�t want, I don�t need, their thanks. What I did, I did for myself. My dad never really had much to say that was worthwhile, but one thing I do remember�if you�re going to do something good, you don�t ask for thanks and you don�t expect gratitude. You do it because it�s right.

Fourth Avenue is clear all the way to the wall as everyone is downtown already. The guards are a little surprised to see me leave. I offer them a nod and ignore their questioning looks as I slip out.

�Seems a pity to miss out on a party like that. Maybe meet another cute girl�� Ali continues while I ignore him.

Today, now, is the perfect time. If I need to go, best just go. The city will survive. While I might dislike what Roxley did, he�s unlikely to screw the city over too greatly. Not any more than he has already. In the end, what I told the council holds true. Better the devil you know.

As we crest the hill that leads out of Whitehorse, I stare at the group awaiting me. My eyes narrow, noting a rather familiar bike-like item that Mikito sits on, before traveling to Lana, who�s busy scratching a puppy on its belly. I open my mouth before spinning around, glaring at Ingrid as she sneaks up on me.

She sighs, clearly disappointed. �How�d you know?�

�The extra bike. Also, you�re getting predictable,� I answer.

She smirks at me.

�What are you all doing here?� I let my gaze travel over the equipment they�ve got secured to the bikes and the puppies, noting how they�re set up for quick release in case of trouble.

�What do you think, you big idiot?� Lana says, shaking her head as she walks up to me. When she gets close, she kicks my foot sharply. It�s hard enough to hurt, a bit, even through the armor. �You thought we were going to let you leave? Just like that?�

�Lana��

�I have nothing left here. No business, no family. Just memories of a life that�� Lana stops, choking a bit. �I�m coming, John.�

As my eyes travel to Mikito, she mouths, �Baka.�

Even I�m not so stupid as to try to dissuade her. What Lana said goes doubly for her.

�Trust me, I�d rather be home. But considering I stabbed the asshole in the kidneys and he didn�t die, I figure I need to not be here when he�s back,� Ingrid says.

�How did you know?� I mutter.

Ali just grins at me. Of course. Betrayed again. Except this time, I find I�m not angry.

�We going or we going to cry about our feelings more?� Ali says, prodding me along.

In answer, I start Sabre rolling down the road. Howard crouches, and Lana smoothly grabs his collar, swinging herself on him. In moments, the entire party is moving down the snow-covered highway, heading south. I cast one last glance backward, at Whitehorse and the world I left behind, before I look back at the road and pick up speed. I find myself smiling as I stare at the road, feeling some of the worries, the burdens I�ve carried fall away. There�s an open road and a new world out there. And I still have a promise to keep.

�So where are we going?�

###

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 1)

Blade Strike (Level 2)

By projecting additional mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 20 feet away.

Cost: 35 Stamina + 35 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 30 cubic feet. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by aura�s that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to 1 kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills and ambient mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 1)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 50% more damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills

Cost: 25 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Sabre�s Load-Out & Other Equipment

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)

Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)

Soft Points: 3 (2 Used)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception

Inlin Type II II Projectile Rifle

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)

Ammo Capacity: 45/45

Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent

Ares Type II Shield Generator

Base Shielding: 2,000 HP

Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked

Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)

Battery Capacity: 6/6

Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds

Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 63 (back at level 15!)

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +10 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Type II Webbing Mini-Missile

Base Damage: N/A

Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.

Cost: 500 Credits

Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser

Base Damage: 25 per second

Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.

Cost: 25,000 Credits

Author�s Note

This concludes the first arc of the System Apocalypse and ends our time in Whitehorse. The current plan is for the next arc to take around three books and will take John and crew around the world. Each arc is meant to be readable as a stand-alone and continuation of the series, but with distinct phases. I always say �planned� when I talk about what will happen because John, Roxley and crew have a tendency to write themselves, scuppering my plots. As such, expect there to be a shift in tone and focus in Book 4.

I�d like to reiterate that I am grateful for the support all of you have provided. While I�d still be telling myself John�s story, I certainly wouldn�t be spending time writing it.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating.

In addition, please check out my other LitRPG series, the Adventures on Brad for a much more light-hearted, slice of life take on a fantasy LitRPG (available on Amazon, Smashwords, iBooks and more!)�

- A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

- An Adventurer�s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)An Adventurer�s Heart (Book 2 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B075NT92ML/ref%3dseries_rw_dp_sw)

- A Dungeon�s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)A Dungeon�s Soul (Book 3 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077NNGXKY)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

- LitRPG SocietyLitRPG Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

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About the Author

For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

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Cities in Chains: An Apocalyptic LitRPG (The System Apocalypse Book 4) Wong, Tao

Cities in Chains

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 4 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

Cities in Chains

ISBN: 9781775380917

Contents

What Has Gone Before

More than thirteen months ago, the System came to Earth, bringing with it monsters, aliens and glowing blue boxes of notifications that detailed their lives in this new Galactic System. Humanity was forced to evolve, their lives dictated by statistic screens, Classes and Skills that gave them strength and abilities beyond the norm, providing them a fighting chance to survive. Still, the apocalypse saw the death of nearly 90% of humanity, the malfunctioning of everything electronic and a new, blood-filled existence.

John Lee was camping in the Yukon when the change occurred. Gifted with perks beyond the normal, he journeyed to Whitehorse and aided in the establishment of the city under the rule of the alien Truinnar, Lord Graxan Roxley. With the help of other survivors, the Village of Whitehorse was quickly established to provide a stable environment for growth, battling rampant dungeons, monster hordes and crazed humans in equal measure.

As Earth�s Mana levels and the System stabilized, new alien threats appeared that sought to takeover the city. After a heated battle and political maneuverings, John is able to push back against the Truinnar Duchess�s Envoy and her Weapon Master, only to be betrayed by Lord Roxley.

With Whitehorse now firmly under the aegis of the Duchess, John has left the stable, if alien owned, Village with his team mates and journey�s south to lend what aid he may to the surviving members of humanity.

Chapter 1

The world has changed. Over a year ago, a series of blue boxes popped into existence, notifying humanity that we�d joined the Galactic Council. Along with that, we inherited the System�a reality-bending setup that appeared to us as a blaze of blue boxes�and it gave us strength, endurance, Skills, and healing beyond human norms. The new System was more akin to a video game, with magical spells and Skills, but dying was still very real.

The world has changed. I get that.

But that still doesn�t explain the evolved tiger trying to eat my face.

�This is a tiger, right? And we�re what? A good hundred kilometers south of the Yukon?� I say, holding the monster around its neck with one hand as it attempts to escape and claw me. The occasional scratch is painful and annoying but not at all life-threatening.

�Just hold him still a little longer,� Lana says, laying a slab of steak a short distance from me. The buxom redhead is clad in Adventurer chic�a skin-tight armored jumpsuit with a weapon vest, along with the requisite weapons, and straps criss-crossing her toned frame. �And yes, it�s a tiger.�

�What? My Status information not good enough for you?� Ali, my three-foot Spirit companion says as he floats cross-legged next to me. He might look Middle Eastern, but Ali�s got as much relation to them as I do an amoeba. Since there�s no real threat right now, Ali�s choosing to be visible.

I glance again at the status information hovering over the tiger.

Evolved Tiger (Level 27)

HP: 358/478

MP: 275/349

Condition: Enraged

Of course, the tiger isn�t willing to just be held in the air without a struggle. With a flick of his tail, the tiger glows, calling forth its Skill�Sharp Claws�again. Okay, Sharp Claws is what I�ve named it since it�s not as if I have access to the tiger�s Skill menu. Twisting around, its legs scrabbling against the ground, it tears into me. Wounds that have been clawed open and healed are widened under its newly empowered attacks. Dealing with the damn cat just because Lana demanded we herd it here once Ali picked it up is annoying.

�Owww! You ready yet, Lana?�

�Done. Don�t hurt it!� Lana calls.

I roll my eyes and toss the kitty cat toward Lana. The animal twists and lands with grace, bunching its legs and snarling at me. Before it can lunge, Lana�s pets ring it while the redhead shifts to put herself directly in front of the animal. Considering the pair of pony-sized huskies are nearly the same size as the evolved tiger, it�s not as unfair a fight as you�d think. And of course, a single look from the tiger is enough to make Anna erupt with flames, fire dancing along her lean, foxy body. Elsa, Lana�s turtle, is no longer with us, having been gifted to a child as a pet due to its inability to physically keep up with us. Says something about the world we live in that a fire-breathing pet turtle is considered an appropriate gift by a tear-filled mom.

�Now there, boy, calm down. We�ve got food for you�� Lana says to the tiger, holding out the piece of meat. Her voice is low, soft, soothing, and almost seductive.

I turn away from Lana and her weird taming session, asking the question that has been on my mind. �So how does a tiger end up so far north? I mean, sure, if it was a monster, it could have spawned here. But a tiger?�

�Someone�s illegal pet?� Ingrid says. The dark-haired First Nation woman is seated on the roof of the truck that she�s pulled over to the side of the road, taking in the sun while she waits for Lana to finish. Who would have known that the woman is a sun-worshipper, being the Assassin/Thief/something sneaky Class that she is?

�A zoo?� Mikito says. The tiny Japanese lady dangles her feet off the edge of the mecha she rides. Mikito�s personal assault vehicle is somewhat different than Sabre, being both lighter and more agile with significantly less armor. Also cheaper. I�m just glad that the System-bought language pack Mikito got for English gave her a slight Japanese accent, rather than something like Australian or Irish. It�s very, very strange to look at a giant, green, tusked alien and listen to him talk in a strong Australian accent.

�Makes sense.� I glance at where Lana is wrestling with the tiger. I never saw her tame Anna, so I have no clue if fighting is supposed to be part of the entire taming process. �You think this is going to take long?�

I receive shrugs in return, so I pull out a bar of chocolate to snack on. A few moments later, I�m handing out bars to the ladies. One nice thing about the System, there�s no more concern about weight loss. In fact, most of the time, we work hard to eat enough calories to handle the stress we put our bodies through. Admittedly, a significant portion of our energy needs are supplied by Mana, that weird all-encompassing thing that makes our spells and Skills work, but we still need to eat. Somewhere out there, I bet there�s some Personal Trainer Class who has worked out the exact calorie and Mana requirements to make the most efficient use of our Level-ups and everyday skills. I just know it.

�Is she going to be okay?� Sam asks from the driver seat of his truck. He�s one of our more recent additions to the retinue since we left Whitehorse.

Behind him, on the flatbed, a group of hunters are carefully watching the surroundings, taking care to not just look around but up as well. In the distance, another hunter is on his way back on Ingrid�s borrowed hover bike.

I could tell them not to bother�Ali�s ability as my Spirit Companion allows him to scan data from the System directly, and my own Skill � Greater Detection -is picking up no major threats currently. But I don�t tell them that for a few reasons. Firstly, constant alertness is a good trait to train. Secondly, what Ali and I consider a significant threat is rather different than these guys. And thirdly, we won�t always be with them.

�Oh, she�ll be fine,� Ingrid says, yawning slightly. �Lana�s got a base heal spell she can toss on if things get hairy.�

�Which she�s using on the tiger,� Sam says incredulously, stepping out of the truck. His salt-and-pepper hair and beard suit the man, as does the worn leather coat and easy air of command. Helps when you top six feet. Maybe I�m still a little jealous of people that tall, even if I�m no shortie anymore, not since the System. Whatever he was before the System, Sam was certainly in a post of authority.

My eyes sweep over the convoy of refugees we�ve picked up, most of them whispering furtively as they watch Lana put on her one-woman taming show. The convoy�s a weird mixture of vehicles, most from the early part of the twentieth century since they don�t need the electronics that were inherent in newer vehicles. There are a few exceptions�a Lamborghini that�s been designated as a �personal vehicle� via a Skill, and the minivan that its Mechanic owner modified stand out. Most modern vehicles don�t work well with their electronics fried by the Mana that surrounds us all.

�Probably trying to mollify it,� I say, answering Sam�s unspoken question. �We might be here for a while. Might as well tell them to get out, stretch their legs and have lunch.�

Sam�s the de facto leader of the refugees, being one of the few willing to actually talk to us. I admit, walking in covered in the blood and guts of the monsters that had been laying siege to their town might have something to do with their wariness. I kind of get the feeling the refugees consider us as much a group of monsters as the ones made by the System. Still, they�re with us because staying in their various small towns was a death sentence.

�You�� Sam starts to say but stops as Mikito chuckles softly. After a moment, Sam decides to do what I say, calling out orders to the group.

The hunters drop out of the flatbed and step out of the other vehicles, spreading out to cover both sides of the road while we wait.

�Nice day for a picnic,� Ingrid says, her eyes closed. �Want me to pull some more monsters for them?�

�Sam asked us to stop doing that.� I walk to the edge of the road and dump out some camping supplies, including a camping table I appropriated recently. Even as I begin getting lunch going, I can hear the snarls, growls, and occasional yips of pain coming from Lana�s scuffle. �Something about scaring the kids.�

�Wimps,� Ingrid drawls.

Mikito joins me, helping with prep and getting more than a few envious glances. Since my Skill Altered Space basically gives me an extra dimensional space I can store anything I want in, I have a lot more leeway than most people in what I can drag around. Everyone else has to contend with good old-fashioned luggage or the System inventory option, and the System inventory only works for System-registered items. Which, for the refugees who have never visited a Shop, is nothing.

�Think we�ll make it to Fort Nelson soon?� Mikito asks Ali.

�We�re about a hundred kilometers out,� Ali says. �An hour�s drive if the roads were good. About three with the state they�re in now�if you guys stop babying the children. And if we don�t find anyone else holed up.�

�They need the experience,� Mikito points out, retreading the old argument. �We�ll be leaving them in Fort Nelson after this anyway.�

�If it�s still in one piece,� I add, grimacing at that thought.

We know, thanks to Ali, that Fort Nelson has a Shop, so the chances of there being no survivors is low. Any location with a Shop has a distinct advantage. The ability to purchase System-registered weapons, Skills, and trade loot in for Credits makes a huge difference. The fact that the Shop connection is still present after the grace period of a year means that someone has spent sufficient Credits for the link to be kept up. Not all the locations that had a Shop managed to keep theirs after the first year ended. Based on all this, the town and some of its inhabitants should still be there.

Theoretically. It is an apocalypse after all.

�Hey, watch the meat!� Ingrid calls out.

I quickly flip the steak, realizing I�d begun to overcook it, lost in my thoughts as I was. Right. Time to focus on the important things. Like lunch.

�What was this again?� Lana says, holding up the strip of green steak on her fork before dabbing it in the gravy. The tiger lies curled up next to her possessively, gnawing on a three-foot-long haunch of the same creature.

�Mer� M�r� the green worm mantis thing,� Ingrid says, snagging another piece from the pile we�ve cooked. There�s enough food on the table to feed a hockey team after a game, which is just about enough for all of us.

Lana brightens up as she chews and swallows. �Oh, right! Think we�ll run into any more of them?�

�Hopefully. That was the last of what I had stored,� I say. �I�ll ask Ali to keep an eye out.�

I think toward Ali. Since my Level-ups, our connection has extended quite a distance, allowing the little Spirit to do a lot more scouting for us. Since the Spirit can�t actually eat, I sent him out on a scouting trip. While none of us really expect to find survivors in the middle of nowhere, hope burns eternal. That, and it�s not exactly as if I have to cover the ground. �Hey, Lana wants you to keep an eye out for the green worm mantis things. Maybe drag them back if you see them.�

�You know, boy-o, I think you guys have been getting a little too lax,� Ali thinks back. �The M�rimul Worms are Level 41 monsters and fight in swarms of ten. They�re not snack food!�

�Might as well be. Anyway, we could use the experience if you can find them. We�ve barely shifted the meter since we left the Yukon.�

I hear his mental grunt of acknowledgement. You�d think that with the monsters being generally of a lower Level, there�d be a higher survival rate, but it doesn�t really work that way. Doesn�t matter if it�s a Level 10 or a Level 50 monster; when you�re Level 1, you�re just as dead.

�So�� Sam says as he walks up to our group, his voice punctuated by the crack of rifles and the sizzle of beam weaponry going off toward the tail-end of the column. �People are wondering how long we�re going to be here. We�ve attracted some attention��

The group looks at me, and I take a moment to check the little monster radar in the corner of my eyes. With Ali away from the group, he can�t share the information with everyone else. There�s nothing too major out there though�just a bunch of Level 20s, from the look of it.

I look at Sam and shrug. �We�re about two, maybe three hours out from the city. This is a decently Leveled area. The hunters should be able to rack up some experience while picking up some loot. If they strap some of the corpses to the cars, they should be able to bring in some of them too.�

�But the women�� Sam falls silent as the three women seated around me just dare him to finish that sentence. Sam coughs and changes his tune. �The non-combatants, they�re a bit nervous.�

Diplomatic as he might be, we know he�s talking about the small group of women who have been making our lives miserable. Somehow, they�ve missed the memo about the earth-shattering change in the social order and seem intent on ignoring certain realities�like violence and the need for Leveling.

�Tough cookies. They�re safe,� I state flatly. �It�s the last chance for their hunters to gain some Levels and Credits safely, so they can sit and stew for all I care.� At the pained look on Sam�s face, I sigh and offer him a little salvation. �We have to leave in an hour if we want to get to the town by daylight.�

�An hour. I can work with that,� Sam says, bobbing his head. He casts a hungry look at the food on our table, and Lana sends him off with an impromptu steak sandwich literally dripping with gravy and monster bacon.

�You�re too nice to him,� Ingrid says.

�Not his fault,� I say.

�Well, he should tell those idiots to come tell it to your face.�

�Eh� I�d rather not.� I grimace, recalling the first few days.

Dealing with that group, especially Ms. Starling, had been painful. I�d actually tried to listen to them bitch about the lack of proper accommodation until I nearly lost my temper. Thankfully, Sam stepped in before things got too far, but I had seriously considered hitting them till they shut up. Which, when you think about it, isn�t exactly the most civilized or smart behavior. Look, I said I thought about it�I didn�t actually do it.

Clearing her throat slightly, Lana redirects our conversation. �What�s the plan for Fort Nelson anyway?�

�Ummm� plan?�

�Yes, plans. They�re not just for clearing dungeons,� drawls Ingrid.

I glare at the First Nation woman. Just because I don�t really talk about my plans doesn�t mean I don�t have one. �What�s there to plan? We go in, we drop them off, and we see what�s up. After that, well, we move on.�

�Oh, John�� Lana sighs. �What if the local government doesn�t want refugees? What if they stop us from going in? What if they need help? Do we want to stay and help? Clear a few dungeons for them or something?�

�Uhh��

�And what are we doing out here anyway?� Mikito says, pointing a pair of chopsticks at me. �You haven�t actually told us.�

�Didn�t exactly ask you guys to come along,� I protest. I get a pair of snorts and an eye roll, making me rub the back of my neck. �I didn�t� well, I do have some plans. But mostly, I�m looking to check out how the rest of the world is doing. Maybe help out a bit here and there��

Truth be told, I have a goal. A few actually. But they�re so nebulous, so far away that I dare not breathe them out loud. Never mind the fact that anything I say can and will be registered by the System and be potentially sellable to someone else; my plans just aren�t pertinent to the discussion. Not yet at least.

�Great. We�re the A-Team,� Lana says.

�Dibs on Face,� Ingrid says.

�Well, I guess I�m Hannibal then,� Lana says while Mikito looks puzzled.

�And John�s BA, of course,� Ingrid says, which makes Lana frown in thought.

�I don�t know. He�s more Murdock than Mikito,� Lana points out.

I open my mouth to protest then decide against it. When faced with two arguing women, one of which you occasionally bed, I pity the fool who gets involved. Instead, I explain to Mikito what they�re talking about.

Chapter 2

�Ahoy the gate,� I called out, hours later, when we finally arrived at Fort Nelson. Or technically, the outer gates of the city.

There must be something instinctive in our desire for walls, even if they are somewhat useless. These walls aren�t normal brick�and their slight silvery sheen hints at them being System-assisted at least�but I could probably punch through them given enough time. Or heck, jump over the twenty-foot walls.

Then again, that�s not exactly fair. I�m comparing my Advanced Class Level 37 strength of 97 against their wall while the surrounding zone is only around level 15+. The most dangerous thing we�ve found close to them is a Level 35 dungeon, and that�s a good two-hour hike east. So perhaps the wall isn�t entirely irrational.

�Who are you people?� a voice calls down, the owner hidden behind a gun.

I absently note that a beam rifle is pointed at me�a rather nice one too. A moment later, Ali flashes the guard�s status above his head.

Ian Crew (Level 24 Hunter)

HP: 280/280

MP: 180/180

Condition: Scared

�Hunter? That seems really generic,� I send to Ali.

�The idiot took a Basic class and traded his perk for a Soulbound beam rifle. At least he got an upgradeable toy,� Ali says. He�s not actually here with me, instead floating deeper in town. He�s scanning the System for information about the place and feeds back to me.

�Visitors from up north. We�ve brought some refugees from the communities above,� I shout back. �We have women and children here. Along with some trained fighters and a whole bunch of loot.�

I watch the guard glance at the convoy behind me, then at our hover bikes. Interestingly enough, while he�s noted Lana�s pets, he doesn�t seem as concerned about them, even if his eyes keep straying to the redhead herself. The menagerie of animals is rather awe-inspiring to most.

�Sorry! I can�t let you in. I need to tell Arik and get his okay,� Ian says. �Do you mind waiting?�

I nod agreeably and settle in to wait, letting my eyes run over the other guards, who have relaxed after seeing that I�m happy to wait. As I said, I could force my way in, but what�s the point? A few minutes of waiting won�t hurt us.

�You came from up north?� Ian calls down once he�s sent off one of the guards with his message. His eyes roam over our gear again, stopping to linger on Lana before he stares at me. I know what he sees�armored jumpsuit, high-end beam pistol, expensive hover bike�and can see him doing the math in his head. �Things must be going pretty good up there.�

�You could say that,� I call back. Memories flash through my mind�the fights and the losses we saw in Whitehorse. Richard, Ulric, Miranda. Roxley and his betrayal. My hands clench and I push aside the hurt.

Tired of shouting, I get off the bike and flex my feet, jumping up onto the wall and landing next to the startled guard. I see more than one gun swing toward me, the guards� eyes wide, but no one takes a shot. Very good discipline. I�m impressed.

�What��

�Sorry. Got tired of shouting.� I lean back against the wall, purposely crossing my feet and putting myself in a disadvantageous position. After that is done, I hold out my hand. �Chocolate?�

�You�� He stares at me then down at the wall then back at me. �What Level are you?�

�That�s a bit rude, don�t you think?� I smile at him absently as I take the time to read the notification that�s popped up since I crossed the boundary of the town. �At least take me out for dinner first.�

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Village of Fort Nelson)

Mana flows in this area have been forcefully stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Village of Fort Nelson City Center

The Shop

Quest Hall

More�

Chastised, Ian quiets down. I can see him mentally consider and discard asking me to move. Funnily, I actually would, if he asked, since my point has been made. This should dissuade them from doing anything stupid, but considering they�ve been hesitating to help out a bunch of refugees, I�m not exactly enthused with the welcome we�ve received so far.

�We sent people north, but they said� well, it gets harder,� Ian says to fill the silence.

�It does. Gets pretty high up in the Yukon.� Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch him twitch, and I pop the chocolate into my mouth since he hasn�t taken it.

Behind me, I hear the hushed conversations of my friends as they wait, the refugees trying to convince each other that they�ll be let in. The guards are still tense, shooting me worried looks.

�You�re from the Yukon? Watson Lake or�?�

�Whitehorse,� I answer.

From a building, another guard pops out and runs up to Ian, who walks over to listen.

�Arik is coming. They�re to stay outside till they take the Oath,� I lipread the guard saying to Ian.

Ian nods and walks back to me, smiling slightly, nervousness quite well hidden. �Arik, the ummm� owner of the town is coming to greet you himself. If you can just wait��

�Ali, get back here. And see if you can figure out what they mean by an Oath,� I send to the Spirit before looking at Ian and smiling languidly. �Sure. Mind if I let the others know that we�ll be waiting a bit?�

�Of course, but he won�t be long,� Ian says.

�We�re getting greeted by the owner himself. So we�ve got to wait,� I call to the group below.

I kind of wish I had set up some kind of signal for potential trouble, but well, I didn�t think about it. Na�ve, I guess. Or maybe, as Ali says, overconfident. Still, my friends have been living on the razor�s edge for over a year now and their instincts are as good as mine. Perhaps better. I can see the subtle shifts in their demeanor as they get ready for potential trouble.

While we wait, I engage Ian in some small talk. Trading information about the System, learning a little about their experiences. Fort Nelson was hit badly in the initial few days, the city spread out as it is. Luckily, a group of survivors found the Shop and managed to rally others, eventually becoming able to purchase a few safe zones in the city center. After that, it was just a matter of time before they established the Village. Lucky for them, no external party was that interested in picking up the Settlement Key here, so they could purchase it themselves.

�And now the entire Yukon/Alaska region is under control of this Duchess,� I say as I finish a summarised version of our year.

�Who is a dark elf. But not�?� Ian says, his voice rising a little at the term dark elf.

I don�t blame him. The concept of dark elves isn�t something that popular consciousness knows much about. It�s more a geek thing. Heck, I mostly know of them from a book series my ex used to rave about and I never got around to reading.

�Truinnar. Just think of them as Truinnar. Black-skinned, very pretty elf-looking creatures with a highly sophisticated, back-stabbing society,� I say.

�That�s insane,� Ian says then turns his head as figures walk down the street.

I watch the group come, a larger blond gymrat in the lead, followed by a middle-aged lady and a teenager at the back. The blond gymrat is obviously a bodyguard, the way he watches everything, though from the way they move�

�The kid in the back is Arik, isn�t he?�

�Got it, boy-o. Don�t forget, he could have gotten a gene treatment,� Ali sends back, reminding me that age is much more difficult to pinpoint these days. So he could either be a really smart teenager, like Jason, who�s taken over the town or just someone who has had their physical body reset to a younger age by the System.

Within minutes, the group is up on the wall and making greetings. Or at least, some greetings.

�I�m Arik Dorf,� Arik says, offering me his hand and a smile. �This is Piotr and Min.�

Level 31 Justicar, Level 29 Bodyguard, and Level 31 Administrator respectively. Ali floats, invisible to everyone else, behind the group, staring at Arik with a fierce expression. My entreaties for information have been ignored in favor of making faces, which annoys me since I really want to know what type of Class a Justicar is.

�John Lee,� I say. �So what�s the holdup? Sun�s setting, and while it doesn�t necessarily get much more dangerous after dark, it certainly gets more uncomfortable.�

�Straight to the point, aren�t you?� Arik says, smiling agreeably. Seeing that I�m not biting, he continues. �Well, Mr. Lee, the problem is that you have a large number of fighters. Many of whom, I understand, are nearly as strong as my guards.�

�You�re worried about them taking over?� I say, slightly incredulously.

Arik raises an eyebrow. �You really have an untrusting nature, don�t you? No. I�m worried about them causing trouble in the city and us being unable to do much about it. We�ve had incidents with survivors who have� accepted� the violent nature of our present lives.�

�Oh�� I consider what he�s not saying. Right. Idiots with power, especially young idiots with power, throwing their strength around. I recall Amelia, the ex-RCMP, complaining about that more than once. �So what do you want us to do?�

�It�s actually quite simple. I have a Skill that allows me to take an Oath from others. Those who break the Oath are penalized significantly, which will make handling them easier,� Arik says.

�That�s really interesting. I�ve heard of Skills like that before�Lords, Kings, and the like often have them�but this is the first time I�ve seen a Justicar,� Ali comments to me.

�Sounds a lot like a Contract to me,� I send back while speaking to Arik. �And what is this Oath?�

�I swear to do no harm to the citizens within the Village of Fort Nelson, to abide by the orders of duly-appointed guardians of the peace within the Village, and to leave the Village if so requested,� Arik says. �And to clarify, all the guardians wear these pins.� Arik taps a small oblong pin with a castle on it that shifts like it�s a holographic projection. �They�re also linked to each individual, so if they get removed forcefully or aren�t in contact with the designated individual, they lose their luster and break down.�

�Seems mostly reasonable.� I�ll admit, I can see the potential for abuse, including the stratification of those in power and those not but� �You�ll have to ask Sam and his people about this yourself. As for me, I don�t intend to stay long. Amend the Oath to add a timer and a designation that it�s only for the town and we�re good to go.�

Arik�s eyes narrow while gymrat bristles at my tone. The Administrator leans in and whispers into Arik�s ear.

He nods, smiling at me. �Of course. We�ll designate that the Oath only takes effect in the city.�

�For a period of two weeks,� I said, smiling. �I�ll be gone by then.�

�For a month.�

�Done,� I say.

After that, I take the Oath easily and send Ali down to relay the information to the team. Arik takes his leave too, to stand at the gates to greet and administer the Oath to the refugees. I absently note that no one gives him trouble, except for Sam. He balks until Lana pulls him aside. A short while later, he�s back, helping the Administrator manage the refugees. I have to admit, the village is efficient at sorting and housing our little convoy, sending the groups to various empty houses or, for the eager, the Shop.

�So, Ali, what�re the consequences of breaking this Oath anyway?� I ask the Spirit while waiting.

�They vary, but mostly depend on the level of the Skill. With only a few points, you�d probably take a hit to your own Levels temporarily,� Ali sends back to me as he stares into space, reading whatever information he can see in the backend of the System. �Won�t make a huge difference to you, but I�d be careful about taking an Oath with a real King.�

When Lana and the group get in, I hop down from the wall, after waving goodbye to Ian, and command Sabre to follow. I hear a few muted gasps as the PAV moves by itself, quickly muted.

�So, Shop?� I grin at the group and get confirming nods.

A couple of weeks of fighting and not having access to the Shop means that our inventory is filled to the brim. We�d even taken to dumping some of the less valuable items with the refugees, just so that we didn�t waste them. And of course, in my Altered Space, I have a few corpses that desperately need a good Butcher or Harvester.

�Shop!� Mikito says happily, gunning her PAV.

We all follow the young Japanese woman till we come across the central pedestal with its silver-steel sphere. Each person who touches it disappears, transported to a Shop location�an extra-dimensional retailer. Of course, which Shop you enter is dependent on a number of factors�personal invitations, your reputation, the amount of Credits you have spent, all of that.

The Shop I�m transported to is green. Lots and lots of green, from the simple reception desks to the waiting couches to the personal shopping rooms. A few seconds after I appear, the anthromorphic Fox who seems to be my personal shopper comes hurrying out of a room, all kinds of toothy smiles.

�Redeemer!� Fox greets me. Clad in a vest and blousy pants combo, his dark brown eyes glint with avarice as he ushers me into a quiet room. �It has been too long.�

Ali darts off to speak with his own friend in the Shop and take care of the selling of our loot.

�No Shop access,� I explain. �I�ve not got much to buy today. Just need a refill of some of my consumables.�

�Ah�� The Fox deflates a bit before he perks up like the consummate professional he is. I probably wouldn�t even have noticed the first if it wasn�t for my high Perception. �Perhaps I can interest you in a portable link?�

Portable Shop Link (Single Connection)

The portable shop link transports a single individual to the connected Shop. May only be used outside of dungeons and on the designated world (Earth).

Uses: 3

Cost: 20,000 Credits

�That seems cheap,� I say after I finish reading over the information and staring at the small chip that makes up the link device. Over in the corner, I see the Fox finishing up my order for the various bullets, missiles, and grenades that make up my refill.

�The link is subsidized by the establishment,� Fox says. �And is, of course, only for our most valuable customers.�

�Gotcha. Probably too expensive for me though. Oh, I finished up the last few books, so I�ll need the next five on the System Quest,� I say.

Fox nods, tapping in the information as he pulls out the next few books on my never-ending list. Not surprisingly, someone had put together a list of books to read that would generate experience points for completing small milestones in the System Quest. Of course, while each book might give minor revelations about what and how the System works, they still don�t answer the real question�what is it? In many ways, I feel very much like I�m a blind man feeling an elephant with books.

So far, what I�ve gathered is that the System is something that precedes all publicly available records of the Galactic Council. In addition, the System has administrative points�control areas in each zone. Take control of enough of these and you can make minor adjustments to the System within the world of that zone, much like how we can adjust our villages and towns. The Galactic Council then is just the governments and individuals who control a significant number of these administrative points, getting together to decide the rules of the System overall. Outside of the rules imposed by the Galactic Council, the System itself controls and adjusts everything in our worlds, upgrading, Leveling, and developing both material and organic objects without care to �normal� scientific laws.

Most of this is done by using the Mana that flows throughout System-registered worlds. In fact, Mana seems to be the main controlling force for the System�the electricity, if you will, of the System.

One of the major arguments in the books I�ve read is whether the System is sentient or not. Numerous tests have shown that the amount of Mana input into the System�from Spells, teleportations, Skills, and the like�is always higher than the output. In fact, there�s a �loss� of about 5%, give or take a few decimals here and there. It�s a weirdly specific number, which many on the �System is a software� side point to. Of course, others have noted that just because it�s a software doesn�t mean it can�t be sentient. A lot of fluctuations in the overall amount of Mana that flows into and out of the System lend credence to the argument that there�s something more than just an out-of-control software program at work.

�Redeemer? Redeemer?� Fox calls, and I blink, staring at the retailer who has been trying to get my attention for a bit. Interrupting a customer�s thoughts might not be a good sales tactic, but Fox and I have known each other long enough now that he doesn�t worry about it. �Do you have anything else for me?�

I grimace, hating that name. That title, even if most of the aliens seem to think it�s something I should be proud of having. System-generated titles are a big thing, marking a significant achievement by the individual. How big seems to vary depending on the culture of course, but it�s a still mark of respect�similar to tattoos in older cultures or prisons.

�Sorry. Go ahead. I�ll browse some Skills while I wait for Ali.�

�Of course. Do call for me if you need anything else.� Fox bobs his head then exits the room, leaving me alone.

I consider pulling out one of my new books and dismiss that thought, instead taking the moment to refresh my memory about my Status and what I might need to buy.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1700

Stamina

1700

Mana

1310

Mana Regeneration

98 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

161

Constitution

170

Perception

Intelligence

131

Willpower

133

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Tech Link*

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

My build, as a friend would say, is weird. I�m part tank, part damage dealer, part Mage. While I once chided Jason for thinking of this world like one of his games, he did have one point that I�ve been considering for a bit.

If you�re working in a team, specialization might be the way to go. That way, if you compare yourself to someone of the same level who generalized, you�ll generally be more powerful. Of course, you want a pretty stable base first�running around with a 100 Health is just asking to die�but at a certain point, specializing makes sense. Especially since I can�t seem to shake off my friends.

The truth about Jason�s words is something I�ve noted while sparring with Mikito or Ingrid, the way they�re significantly better than I am in their areas of specialization. I can keep up in a fight, but if I stick to playing fair, I�m normally hard-pressed to win. Mikito�s got a bunch of speed abilities, along with Class Skills, that make her a dangerous melee fighter, while Ingrid is more the glass cannon type�able to hit with a ridiculously high amount of damage, but squishy.

In fact, one of the problems with bouncing upward to an Advanced Class the moment the System arrived was that the Erethran Honor Guard Skill tree is mostly about supporting others. The individual combat Skills are mostly in the Basic Erethran Guard or Erethran Soldier Class. That�s also why I�ve been poking around a bunch of Basic Skill trees, searching for things I can purchase from the Shop to give me more oomph. Problem is, Skills are nice, but they all come with a cost. Credits to purchase them, then an on-going Mana and Stamina cost when you use them. I�ll admit though, a lot of my desire for more strength has to do with the fact that I got my ass kicked before we left Whitehorse.

All that said, I still have no clue what my specialization would be. I can do a little of everything, but none of the roles attract me. I like being able to switch between the front-line and back depending on the situation. It�s saved my ass quite a few times, being entirely self-reliant. But now I�ve got a party�

I stare at my Status screen one last time before turning back to the Shop�s inventory. Time to stop mulling over things and get back to it. I haven�t made a decision in weeks, so why should I be able to make one now? Better to focus on what I can do right now. Maybe I can find something to augment my ranged attacks�

I�m the first one back, though I�ve probably spent more time in the Shop due to the better time dilation in my Shop. Knowing that the others will be a while, I get moving on arranging our accommodations for the evening and leave Ali to guide the group to the abandoned house I locate. By the time they all arrive, I�ve already gotten a few plates on the table illuminated by some System-bought lamps. We�re all kind of used to it by now, so the lack of electricity isn�t a big problem. The lack of hot water on the other hand�

�Couldn�t you find a place with hot water? I was looking forward to a bath,� Ingrid grumbles with nods from the other women.

�Use a spell,� I say. �They don�t even have enough upgraded places for their own people. What makes you think they�re going to let a bunch of tourists into an upgraded house?�

�We could pay,� Ingrid says.

�Sure. You going to knock on the doors?� I wave at the exit.

Ingrid just stuffs her face rather than chat. As sarcastic and occasionally rude as she is to us, I�ve realized Ingrid is actually a tad shy among strangers.

Lana, who has taken over cooking the rest of the meal, walks by, dropping another platter of food. �Ali tells me there�s a dungeon close by. One that�s pretty close to over-running itself.�

�You want us to clear it?� I ask while Mikito perks up slightly.

�It�d take a day at most,� Lana says. �And the first clear bonus is always nice.�

I consider her words. The first clear bonus is a significant chunk of experience, for sure. In fact, it�s about the only thing that has given us any real experience since we left the Yukon. The rest has been dribs and drabs from beating up under-Leveled monsters. �All right. I�m in.�

�Yes,� Mikito says.

�Fine. I�m in too,� Ingrid says.

Lana flashes all of us a smile of gratitude before plunking a case of bottles on the table. We all stare with disbelief at the familiar brand of Apocalypse Ale. As one of the Yukon�s most popular exports since the System, we all know how expensive the beer is.

�How�?� Mikito asks, and Lana laughs softly.

�What? There are some advantages of part-owning the brewery through the foundation we set up,� Lana says then fixes me with a look. �If someone actually looked into it, he might be surprised what he could get.�

�Huh�� I say, snagging a bottle and popping off the screw-top. �With this kind of incentive, I just might��

Lana grins and snags a bottle before we all settle in for dinner and rest in an actual bed. Now that we�ve decided on actually testing out the dungeon, we drag Ali over and probe him for more information. Not that he has much, but we often find that anything is better than nothing.

Chapter 3

�Doesn�t look like much of a dungeon,� I mutter, staring at the notification floating in front of my face the moment I step into the gloomy, shadowed forest. It�s subtle, but the change in the ecology is there. One side of the barrier is less lush and more shadowed than the other.

�It is only Level 35,� Lana says, stretching slightly and pulling her skintight jumpsuit tight in all the right places.

When she catches me looking, the redhead flashes me a grin and a wink, making me blush slightly. Living and traveling with a group, we�ve not had a lot of private time lately, which has been a bit annoying. That, and we want to verify her birth control options are still working. Ever since we figured out that the System has a bad tendency of degrading purchased birth control options, we�ve all gotten a little paranoid about double-checking things like that.

�True,� Mikito says, her naginata resting on her shoulder as she straddles her bike. The polearm dwarfs the tiny Asian lady, who�s clad much like Lana, albeit with slightly more armor plating. Like me, she hasn�t yet bothered to transform her PAV. �We doing this on foot?�

�Probably for the best. It�s only a few kilometers in radius. Figure the boss is in the center,� I say, eyeing the fuzzy readouts that my minimap is giving me. Damn dungeons and their weird rules.

�Ingrid and the puppies are on scouting duty. Pull anything you find back to us�� I look around before sighing, realizing that the woman has already disappeared. �As for Tigger��

�No. Just no,� Lana says, glaring at me.

�But�� I snap it shut as Lana continues to glare at me. �Fine. What is he called?�

�Roland,� Lana says, scratching the tiger, pushing his head into her waist.

�Roland staying with us or�?� Thus far, beyond being big, I�ve yet to see anything particularly special about the tiger, but I wasn�t exactly paying attention either. Without knowing its specialty, I�m leery of giving suggestions.

�He�ll stay for now with Anna,� Lana says, the red fox content to trot alongside the redhead.

All that done, I nod and wave her and Mikito on, letting my eyes dart over their information one last time before I play rearguard.

Mikito Sato (Middle Samurai Level 3)

HP: 770/770

MP: 430/430

Conditions: None

Lana Pearson (Beast Tamer Level 49)

HP: 380/380

MP: 600/600

Conditions: Bestial Senses, Linked x 4

It takes about ten minutes before a body drops in front of us, all dark blue hair, muscles, and blood. Mikito bisects the body before it even hits the ground, while Lana has a gun trained on it in seconds. That�s before we realize it�s a corpse. A moment later, I hear giggling beside us, Ingrid having shifted positions immediately.

�Ingrid�� Lana sighs then prods the corpse with her feet.

Now that we�re no longer worried about our lives, we spend some time actually looking at the monster corpse. It�s similar to a chimpanzee in size but with blue fur, an extra pair of secondary arms, and a tail that looks as though it should belong on a scorpion. After assessing the monster, we get moving.

We barely take ten steps before Lana stiffens, swiveling to the left. Her lips tighten and she drops to a knee, her gun raised. Roland lets out a low growl and pads to her left, his entire body shimmering. Within seconds, it�s hard to see the creature, his body camouflaged against the background terrain. Anna shifts to a safe distance away from Lana, flames bursting from her body and licking against her fur.

�Howard�s on his way back with company,� Lana says as she settles in.

Mikito makes a noise of assent but doesn�t move, continuing to watch her side of the forest. I grunt, consider my options, and pull a beam rifle from storage. Mana Darts, my favorite spell, is just a little too low Level for these guys, and everything else I have is a bit too destructive. A Fireball in a forest is a bad idea, especially since the undergrowth here doesn�t seem to have had a good forest fire in a bit. Hmmm� something else to consider. Who would have thought that bringing death and destruction actually had so many different facets?

Tension mounts as we wait, but we don�t have to wait long. The sounds of branches breaking and the padding of a pony-sized husky reaches us within seconds, then the large hound is here. Close behind him are a dozen of the ape-creatures, swinging through the trees and loping on the ground in a weird knuckle, knuckle, feet gait. The transition from peace to violence is sudden as Roland claws apart the first to cross the threshold, then he launches himself against a second. Lana opens fire with her rifle, and Anna lays down a low wall of flame to ward off the majority while Howard spins around to fight.

I add to the carnage and manage to catch sight of Ingrid coming out of the shadows to do her thing. The fight is fast and furious, but we out-Level the apes by a significant margin. By unspoken agreement, we let Lana and her pets do most of the work, the Beast Tamer having the least number of hours in the field and thus the lowest Level.

A short couple of minutes later, I�m looting the bodies and storing them in my Altered Space while Lana heals her pets.

�Think we should get lunch ready while Lana takes care of the dungeon?� Ingrid says from behind me.

I sigh, refusing to jump even if her sudden appearance is a bit startling. I finish putting the corpse in my Altered Space before I turn around. �Might not be a bad idea.�

�You guys�� Lana says, sounding exasperated. �I�m not that far behind all of you. And the boss might be a little tough for me and the boys. And Anna.�

�A little tough is good,� Mikito says. �Good training.�

�Sounds like we�re decided. I�ll lend you Ali,� I say while setting up the picnic table. �Ingrid, your turn.�

�Hey!� Lana says, growling at us.

�Fine. Stew and bannock?� Ingrid says.

�Sounds delicious.�

�Rice too, please,� Mikito says.

�Hey!� Lana says again.

�You still here?� I look at Lana, humor dancing in my eyes as she stands there, hands on her hips while we ignore her protests.

She glares at me, mouths, �You�ll pay for this,� then stomps off, followed by her pets. Within minutes, her passage fades and I stretch.

�Going for a stroll?� Ingrid says, her voice full of mirth while Mikito snorts.

I shrug, refusing to answer. Ingrid waves the ladle at me and I nod before following Lana quietly. I might not have Ingrid�s Class Skills, but I�ve got some skills.

Look, we might be idiots, but we aren�t exactly going to let our friend solo a dungeon without some backup.

The next couple of hours are rather boring. Between her Bestial Senses ability and the pets, I have to give her a significant amount of space just so that she doesn�t know I�m here. Add in the fact that I need to be far enough away that the System doesn�t hurt her experience gain too much and I end up having a really uneventful stroll through the woods. Even so, the occasional extra-large explosion, tree breaking, or scream carries back to me. Thankfully, with Ali floating alongside Lana, I get running commentary to keep me entertained.

�Ooooh, that�s an amazing suplex, John, just makes those legs really defined�

�What a move, sticking her gun in its mouth�

�That kind of language from a woman! Who would have thought�

�Two dozen. We might be in trouble here, sports fans. Wait! Is that�? Yes! It�s the Pearsons� signature move�the Chaos Grenade. It lobs, it flies, it explodes with pink confetti! This might be troublesome for our young hero!

�� by the skin of her teeth. Well, Roland�s teeth, but there you have it. The latest member of the Pearson Prowlers is showing his value already. Much faster than a tall Asian, I�ll say.

�And that�s the Boss. Whoa, he�s big. No worries though, boy-o, she can take him. Well, not her, herself but together, I�m sure�

�And that�s the second summons. Wynn is off to tangle with those other dozen little bastards. Lana�s tossing those grenades like there�s no tomorrow, even with her arm broken. But the smokescreen�s letting our young heroine move to a new location while Roland and Anna double-team the Boss and Howard does mop-up.

�It�s down! Down. The Boss is down and its minions are fleeing.�

When Ali finally gives the all-clear, I find myself sagging against a nearby tree. The Spirit is good at giving a rundown, even if he makes it a little more dramatic than it needs to be. While Lana mops up, I head back to our temporary rest stop. It might seem strange to let her go by herself and then wander along behind her, but I know Lana�s been feeling a little out of place, out-leveled and underpowered. Mikito has years of martial arts training to back her up, Ingrid is a frigging Assassin, and well, I�m me. Lana, until a few months ago, spent most of her time running the foundation and a bunch of businesses in Whitehorse. Even if I think she�s a lot tougher than she believes, especially with her pets in play, she needs to know it. Letting her take out the Boss by herself is a good way for us to reinforce her self-esteem.

Even if it is a bit hard on my heart.

Chapter 4

You would think that clearing a dungeon the Village couldn�t would make them happy. But if I�ve learned one thing about humans, it�s that they�re never happy. Acting as if we should have asked them for their permission to kill monsters is ridiculous, especially when they haven�t been able to clear it. Still, the entire incident soured us on Fort Nelson, and we decided to leave the very next day. Which is why we�re surprised to see Sam waiting in his truck as we head out of our borrowed accommodations.

�What are you doing here?� I ask Sam, admiring the much younger looking gentleman. I mentally approve�gene therapy is probably one of the best deals in town. It not only shaved a quarter century off Sam�s visage, it also probably boosted quite a few of his physical stats. That Sam decided to keep the silver-grey hair actually makes him look more distinguished, I think.

�This isn�t the place for me,� Sam says, looking around the Village, eyes lingering on the few inhabitants who are up at the crack of dawn. �I�m not a fan of swearing binding Oaths to people I don�t know.�

�Sam�� I consider my objection. While I do so, I take the time to review his Status bar.

Samuel K. Turner (Level 29 Technomancer)

HP: 170/170

MP: 540/540

Conditions: None

Very low health, not at all what I�d consider acceptable. On the other hand, his Mana pool is very good, especially for someone at his Level. Add in the fact that he has a rather rare Basic Skill, which lets him manipulate technology�mostly for his own use right now, but supposedly for others eventually�and he could be a pretty decent back-of-the-line supporter.

In the end, I decide to let him come for two reasons. Firstly, Sam�s got the willingness to fight�something that, even if one has the Skills, can be lacking�and secondly, it�s his life. I�m not here to dictate what he does.

�Fine,� I answer and watch Sam relax slightly.

He slides into his truck a moment later, with Ingrid taking rearguard on her bike. Mikito and I lead the way over the bridge that straddles the town. South, down to Prince George, it is. Hopefully our reception there is a lot less chilly.

It�s eight hundred kilometers on the highway to Prince George. Even with the destruction caused by the change and the lack of maintenance, the highways are still the fastest way to travel. No one from Fort Nelson has successfully made contact with those down south though, since the 97 swings close to the Northern Rocky Mountains Provincial Park. The damn System seems to consider every provincial park and place of beauty the perfect place to put a high Level zone. At the closest point to the provincial park, the highway sits at nearly Level 50. Definitely too high for the people in Fort Nelson, and even a threat for us if we were moving alone.

That�s why, by general consensus, we�re taking things slow and sending the puppies ahead to herd some monsters for Sam to play with. I�ve even kindly let him ride Sabre so that he doesn�t have to struggle in and out of the truck while killing them. For all the consideration we�ve given him, you�d think he�d be more grateful.

�Help me!� Sam shouts as he lies on the ground, holding the mutated bear off his face through sheer desperation.

�Oh, come on, it�s only a Level 15,� I call back.

�Two nights of cooking says he�s going to get below 50%,� Ingrid offers.

�Bah! Three nights and 30% of his health,� Ali counters.

�You guys are insane!� Sam screams. He finally levers a hand free, pushing the beam pistol against the bear�s side, and opens fire.

The bear takes the shots, chomping down hard on Sam�s shoulder and making his hand spasm open.

�Hey! Stop that,� I say as I glare at Ali. �No betting on my behalf. It�s not as if you�re doing the cooking if you lose. But we�ll take that bet.�

�John�� Lana says, looking at Ingrid and me. �I don�t think she�s been a good influence on you.�

�You wanted me to lighten up��

�Exactly. Lighten. Not indulge in dark humor,� Lana says, shaking her head.

�I note you aren�t doing anything to help either,� I say.

Sam screams and I glance at his health, doing some quick math. He can take one more hit before I have to heal him. Of course, if I do, his experience gains drop, since the System will count it as help, which kind of defeats the purpose of all this. As it stands, he�s getting reduced experience as it is. Still, I don�t want him to die either. I pay a little more attention, pre-casting a portion of the Healing spell and holding it in abeyance.

Mikito is dancing with another bear to the side, using her fists rather than her polearm to strike the monster. She�s even got a few light cuts across her face, courtesy of her practicing dodging by the millimeter. We pulled the pair to us a short while ago and Sam learned a major lesson about being a support fighter�don�t let the monsters get close.

Sam jerks his head aside enough to dodge the next bite and pulls the trigger of his recovered pistol a few more times. Flesh sizzles and the bear finally has enough, falling and flattening the poor Technomancer. Before we can help, Howard has pulled the body off Sam and settled down to snack. I release my spell the moment I can actually see Sam, watching as he heals all the damage in seconds.

�I didn�t say this wasn�t necessary,� Lana says, rubbing the back of her neck. �Just, you know, a bit rude.�

�A lot rude!� Sam snaps, kicking the bear corpse after he loots it.

Howard growls at Sam before returning to eating the bear, and Roland joins him after a second. Surprisingly, Howard doesn�t object. Now that Sam�s done, Mikito put down her bear too and lets Shadow and Anna take their turn.

�You complain, but you�re getting better,� I say, looking the man over. �Though seriously, you couldn�t have bought an armored suit or something?�

�I didn�t expect to be fighting!� Sam snaps, checking the charge on his pistol and swapping out the Mana battery. �I fix cars and weapons!�

�And you�re wandering around the wilderness. At least buy yourself some decent offensive Spells, will you? Perhaps a few to restrict movement. It�ll keep you alive longer,� I recommend.

Sam growls at me again, stomping back to Sabre and the beam rifle that was discarded during the fight.

Incidents like that pretty much make up the next few weeks. Of course, once the zone levels started creeping up too high, we stopped playing around. Well, until we hit the Level 50 zone, then we hunkered down and did some real grinding.

I ended up lending Sam Sabre in her transformed form during that period, and I had to admit, I was a bit jealous. With his abilities, Sam could use it just as well as I could with my Skills and Neural Link, interfacing directly with the controls to play ranged damage dealer. He even managed to eke out a higher efficiency rate on the Mana engine and linked his beam rifle directly with the PAV so that he could keep shooting without switching Mana batteries.

We spent over a day and a half just off the highway in the Level 50 zone, drawing monsters to us and killing them. Once we finally ran out of space for storing the loot and Sam Leveled up to 32, we called it a day and got moving.

Our high spirits got shut down fast once we hit the next village. Stuck so close to a high Level zone with no Shop and the nearest settlement too far to walk to, there were no survivors. Nor were there any in the next village. Or the next.

For all the joking and ribbing, this was the reality of our existence�less than ten percent of humanity had survived the transition. Entire communities had been wiped out. Among the survivors, a significant number of the young and elderly were slain. This new world has no space for the weak. Perhaps it might have been different if we had transitioned to a normal System world, but as a Dungeon World, we never had a chance.

We don�t stop or search the settlements. There�s no need. Not with Ali around. And so we drive past empty homes and abandoned vehicles, leaving the past to the past until we reach Fort St. John, a tiny town nearly the same size as Whitehorse. It has no Shop, too small to be considered worth setting up the teleportation link that anchors a Shop to our world. Yet for all their disadvantages, there are survivors. We find a way.

�Ahoy there!� I call.

�Ahoy? Seriously? We going with landlubbers next?� Ali teases, floating beside me as we stare at the fortified apartment complex.

�Perhaps we should have someone less intimidating talk to them?� Sam says.

�You mean Lana.�

�I mean Lana.�

I sigh, noting that there�s still no movement from the apartment complex. If it wasn�t for the barred doors and windows and the dots on the minimap, I�d have thought they were all gone. Thankfully, they haven�t tried to shoot me yet, unlike some others.

�You�re up, Lana,� I say, finally conceding.

The redhead laughs, giving my hand a quick squeeze as she saunters up the driveway. A high Charisma, breathtaking beauty, and actual social skills have to count for something. I hope.

�We don�t mean you any harm. We�re here to offer aid!� Lana calls and waits.

�Can I go in and drag them out yet?� Ingrid�s voice crackles over the radio.

To make us look less threatening, we left her and Mikito with the pets, out of sight around the corner of the block. Roland might be a cuddly and foolish kitty to us, but I�m sure that�s not what most people see.

�No,� Sam snaps.

There�re only a dozen survivors, so I�m sure Ingrid could do it easily enough, but then what? We�re trying to get their cooperation, not turn them into slaves.

�How are you going to help us?� a voice finally calls. It�s young and aggressive, challenging Lana and our stated good intentions. I can sympathize.

�Depends on what you need. We�ve got some weapons, food, and water we can give you if that�s all you�ll accept. But we�d rather help you get somewhere safer,� Lana calls back. We�ve done this conversation a few times before, and nearly always, there�s that caution.

�Safe?� There�s a bitter laugh at that.

Another voice pipes up, this one older. �What do you mean safer?�

�There are safe zones, places where monsters don�t spawn randomly,� Lana states. �If you get to a Shop, you can buy a residence and it blocks spawning inside that house. Whole cities can become a safe zone if enough property is bought. There�s a document, a guide we can share with you.�

There�s silence at her last words, but I can see the dots converging on my minimap.

A couple of minutes later, the older man calls, �Leave the guide and the supplies on the doorstep and then back off. We�ll consider your offer.�

Lana sighs and waves me forward. A few seconds later, the printed-out copy of Smasher�s Guide and a bunch of supplies is on their doorstep. Increased Perception means that I can hear their gasps as I make the paper and boxes of food appear.

After letting them know where we�ll be, we meet up with the rest of the crew and repeat the process at another boarded-up building. We do that for the rest of the day, playing diplomat and good guy. Surprisingly�or not, considering how thin everyone in the group is�one of the groups joins us immediately. All the others are way too wary and paranoid, which seems a little strange. Not that we�re expecting everyone to join us, but the ratio is wrong.

Dinner is held in the middle of the highway, the young man and the quartet of teenagers devouring the food we provide and only flinching slightly when the puppies or Roland move near them. Anna, the lazy fox that she is, is curled up and getting strokes from Ingrid while Sam pokes and prods at the force shields we�ve set up around the impromptu camp. We could have taken a house, but considering that monsters can barge through the walls at any time, this is actually safer. That, and we want to let the human scouts have a clear view of what we are and aren�t doing.

Once dinner is done, I drag a truck back at Sam�s request and we spend the next few hours fixing it up together. I say we, but I was a website hack, so it�s mostly Sam who does the work while I hand him tools and play impromptu jack. I do learn a few things, since Sam is one of those guys who likes to talk while working. Of course, I�m not entirely sure what the point is, since gas-guzzling engines are archaic technology these days.

�Right. Let�s try it,� Sam says after an hour, scooting out from under the vehicle before I lower it.

We pop the hood and he places his hand on the engine, channeling his Skill.

All Tech I See (III)

This Skill allows the Technomancer an intuitive understanding and connection with technology, allowing him to use the technology at will. This Skill also has the ability to attempt to override security features in the affected technology.

Level I effects: +15% bonus to connections with technology, +10% efficiency and productivity (where appropriate)

Level II effects: this Skill will temporarily designate non-System technology as System-enabled with the appropriate bonuses.

Level III effects: Technomancer may designate 3 pieces of technology to be used remotely.

Mana Cost: 20 Mana per minute for active use. Passive use (Level II and III effects) 200 Mana per activation. Duration of 3 hours per activation

I shake my head, staring at the details of Sam�s Class Skill. It�s one hell of a Skill�even better than the Neural Link Skill I purchased�and I�m slightly surprised he�s so willing to share the details. Ever since Sam managed to allocate his third Skill point a few days ago, he�s been able to designate a couple of additional vehicles for use. Unlike a Mechanic�s rebuilding of the vehicle, this is a lot less permanent but a lot faster.

�Sounds good,� I say, listening to the engine. We�ve mostly just swapped out a bunch of starters, pulled a bunch of clogged lines, and made sure the actual gasoline engine works. After that, Sam used some of his other Skills to fix the electronic chips needed to run the truck. It wouldn�t actually work without his Skill, though a real Mechanic with the right tools could probably get it fixed up much easier now. �Next?�

Sam nods, and I walk toward the camp exit, glancing at Mikito as she joins me.

�Something up?� I ask her.

�No. Just too cramped to practice inside,� Mikito says, and I nod in understanding.

�You okay with all this?� I wave my hands around, indicating both the survivors we�re grabbing as well as the destruction.

�Yes,� Mikito answers then pauses, looking at me. �Are you?�

�It�s what we do, isn�t it?� I say. It�s not really something I�ve thought about�just one of those things we can do to help. I mean, why not? It barely takes any real effort, and even if it did, we�re saving lives. How exactly is that a bad thing?

�You seem less angry,� Mikito says.

I blink, considering her words. I prod at my emotions, noting the churning sea of anger that still resides in the pit of my stomach. But it�s more peaceful? Calmer? No typhoon winds, no tsunamis�

�Maybe?� I say hesitatingly. �I�m still angry at times, but it just is, you know? We�re not fighting for our lives as much anymore. And even if things are bad, it�s mostly done and over with. At least, I hope so. How are you doing?�

It�s not an idle question. Mikito has lost more than most. Her husband, dead. Her family, not only separated by a sea but most likely dead too. For a time, I know she wanted to die, but now�

�I exist,� Mikito answers me, offering me a tight smile. �It hurts at times. When I remember. But we do good, and when it is time, perhaps I will meet him again.�

I don�t really know what to say to that, so I offer her a smile and nod. Mikito breaks off soon afterward, walking toward the park we noticed before. I admit, I watch her leave, uncertain exactly what to feel about the conversation we just had. In the end, I push it aside to focus on the work ahead of me.

Late at night, I lie in bed, absently stroking the hair of the sleeping redhead beside me. Lana murmurs softly, nuzzling into my chest before falling back asleep, while I stare at the screen in front of me. Page 273 from A Mathematical Review of Classes, System Skills, and the System. Riveting reading. Really. But I�ve got things to do and people to see.

I quietly extract myself from the tent and make my way to the fire, glancing at the young man seated by it with a makeshift spear on his lap. Young, probably in his early twenties, with that wariness that almost all survivors have. He looks up, his hand clenching slightly on the spear shaft while meeting my eyes with his thousand-yard stare.

�You�re up late,� I say and take a seat next to him.

�So are you,� he replies.

I smile slightly, staring at the kid and wondering when I started calling people half a decade younger than me kids. �Perk of a high Constitution. I don�t really need to sleep much.� Or at all, if I want to push it. But experimentation has shown that the human brain really does like having a bit of downtime.

�You�re strong too,� the kid says, glancing toward the vans and trucks I dragged over. We�d briefly considered a bus but figured a single point of failure was a bad idea.

�Thanks. You�re not bad yourself,� I say, and he twitches, eyes narrowing. �There�s no way you�d survive this long if you didn�t have some decent Levels and strength scores.�

Of course, I don�t tell him that I can see his Status bar above his head too.

Kyle Leeburn (Karateka Level 28)

HP: 340/340

MP: 180/180

Conditions: Exhausted (-10 to all Stats and Regeneration Rates)

�Not good enough,� the kid says, and I clearly hear the regret and self-recrimination.

I glance back at the tent that we designated for him and his friends�all those who are left. He catches me looking and nods slightly. I�m not even sure what the nod means, but I don�t push it.

�Did you read the guide?� I ask to break the silence.

�Yes. Not much new there,� Kyle says. �I do want to know what you intend to do with us.�

�Exactly what we promised. Bring you guys to a safe zone, preferably a city with a Shop. That way you can sell some of your loot and get sorted,� I say. �No ulterior motives.�

�Not as if I can do anything about it if you did, is there?� Kyle says bitterly.

�No, not really,� I agree bluntly.

Kyle looks at me, his eyes shining. �If you lay a hand on them, I�ll kill you. I don�t care how, I will kill you. All of you.�

�Oh god�� Ali says, floating down from where he�s been watching all this. �There�s two of you!�

�Funny,� I tell Ali before looking at the kid and giving him a nod in acknowledgement. �Now, go to sleep.�

�I��

�You said it yourself. There�s nothing you can do if I want you dead. And anyway, if I had bad intentions, I�d want to get all of you survivors together. Right now, you�d be more useful as bait than anything else.�

I see Kyle twitch at that, but he finally stands and goes into the tent. I can hear him breathing loudly and irregularly, forcing himself to stay awake just in case I decide to attack, but at least I have some peace and quiet. Sort of.

�You�ve got a pretty devious mind there, boy-o,� Ali says, floating cross-legged in front of me.

�Hmmm�?�

�The entire using the kids as bait bit. Cold.�

�Never said I wasn�t,� I say, smiling grimly.

I wait, the darkness deepening until finally, finally the kid succumbs to sleep. That�s when I stand and stretch before walking to the force field and letting myself out. I keep silent, walking through the abandoned, empty streets filled with weeds and unraked leaves till we�re far enough away.

�Tell me about the sixth group.�

�Not much more to tell,� Ali says, floating beside me. �Six fighters in the building, all between Level 30 and 40. Three captives, all mutilated so they can�t run. You were right�they�re probably the reason why everyone is so paranoid and looking worse for wear. Can�t hunt or Level up properly if the non-combatants are easy prey.�

�Weapons? Classes? Skills?�

�One Thief, two Bandits, one Guardian, a Shaman, and a Gunsmith. One of the captives is a Healer too,� Ali replies. �Two System-registered melee weapons. All their guns are System-registered, but it�s mostly human shotguns and rifles as their base.�

�Anything else I should know?� I ask, my voice going colder as I walk toward the little glowing dots in the minimap.

�Don�t make it fast.� Ali�s voice is raw and angry at the last.

I don�t blame him. He�s been stuck watching them the whole day when he�s not with us.

The group has taken over a bank, their resting place underground, where the safe deposit boxes are located. Safe�or at least safer�than a normal building. One entrance to their main resting place, easy to defend against any incursions. Assuming they don�t get really unlucky and a monster spawns in the building itself, they�ve got it good. Of course, they aren�t dumb enough to not have a watch out, but they�ve gotten lazy. Probably been lording it over the groups around here too much. The big fish in the small pond.

I take my time, ghosting up to him when he�s not looking in my direction, crossing through shadows till I�m close enough to make my move. Haste, Thousand Steps, and agility in the hundred-plus range means that I cover the last five feet in the blink of an eye. There�s nothing wrong with the Bandit�s instincts, his head turning toward me, but he�s nowhere near fast enough. My blade sinks into his neck easier than I thought, forcing me to catch the body with my free hand while the detached head drops. The muffled, meaty thud resounds through the marbled floor, and I hold my breath, wondering if it was too much.

Nothing. I breathe a sigh of relief and head over to the staircase, my sword disappearing back to whatever dimension it exists in when I don�t have it summoned. As I near the stairs, I look down, spot the crude attempt of a trip wire, and step over it.

Downstairs is a single corridor and small rooms, sub-divided to allow privacy, before the main safe deposit storage room. From Ali�s descriptions, each of the private rooms is allocated to the leaders, with the remnants forced to stay together. Of course, each of the three leaders keep one of the women to themselves.

I�d considered a few ways of dealing with this, but any fight in close quarters is likely to result in the deaths of the women. That�s one of the reasons I�ve chosen to do this myself. I�ll admit, I also want to save the group some of what I expect to see. As much as we�ve seen and done, as many nightmares as we might have, there�s no need to add any more.

Downstairs, I tread to the opposite side of the waiting room and make sure to hide myself as best as I can before signaling Ali that I�m ready for the second part of the plan.

�Trouble!� Ali shouts from above in a simulated voice.

Never having heard the Bandit speak, I have no idea if Ali�s doing a good enough job, but the roar of gunfire as Ali triggers his weapon is sufficient to drive home his point.

�What is it?� one of the men shouts even as I hear them scrambling inside the rooms.

�They�re attacking us!� Ali calls back.

I have to admit, they�re not complete idiots. Most of them head up, but they leave a guard for the women. Of course, since I didn�t bother to hide the body too much, I only have a minute at most before they realize they�ve been tricked. But that�s more than enough time.

I launch myself forward, crossing the room at a sprint, and tackle the Thief across his body. I hit him like a freight train, his ribs cracking and snapping, even his breath explodes around my ear. I don�t stop moving, bull-rushing him into the nearby wall, concrete shattering around us�I put him mostly through it. As I lean backward, I grip his upper arm, crushing it, and throw him to the floor. For all that, the Thief manages to form a glowing red dagger that plunges into my torso, sinking past the jumpsuit and sending a shard of pain through my mind.

Before he can do it again, I beat aside his hand, looking back at the women and wasting a few precious seconds to cast Soul Shield on all three. The glowing walls of force spring to life around their bodies, protecting them against collateral damage. Of course, the Thief manages to stab me a few more times in the meantime, nearly cutting my throat with one swipe. Painful as it is, it�s not lethal.

Noise from the staircase informs me that I�ll be getting company soon, so I grip the Thief by the neck. Another second and I cross the floor to the staircase, where the Gunslinger is turning, a pair of pistols in his hand. He unloads, uncaring if he hits the Thief I�m using as an impromptu shield. I twist from the hips and heave, taking a pair of bullets in the lower body before the Thief flies through the air, screaming. The Gunslinger is fast, very fast, bouncing up the staircase and crowding his friends to avoid the newly made corpse.

I snarl, another bullet smashing into my helmet and rocking my head back. A thought and the sword is in my hand, Blade Strike throwing a glowing line of red and blue from the blade while Thousand Blades repeats the action with a pair of duplicate weapons. The attacks fly up the stairs, and this time, there is nowhere for them to go. Unlike their attacks, the Soulbound sword I wield has leveled up with me and is backed by a pair of Skills. The difference in damage is like comparing a BB gun and a 9mm.

Screams, shouts, and swearing as the group struggles upward, unloading their shots into my body. I take them all, my body shuddering slightly under the barrage. But I have over 1700 Health Points and a regeneration rate to match it. It�d be a lie to say I could stand here and take it all day long, but I can for the few seconds that it takes them to reach the top of the stairs and slam the door shut.

Then I use Blink Step, fixing the point of my arrival by using Ali�s viewpoint, and appear behind the group. I kill the Shaman first, who�s busy readying a series of Spells to slow, poison, and kill me. It only takes a single focused strike to kill him. Stupid magic users with their miniscule health.

The Bandit is next, cutting upward with a real sword that glows green with energy. Cleave or Bash or Power Strike or an equivalent Skill. Putting everything he has into the attack. I twist, catching the cut with the sword I�ve materialised in my other hand, surprising him. Even so, the strength of the blow throws me backward, my feet leaving the floor for a second.

The Guardian makes his move next, rushing and grappling my arm. A quick twist as he shouts, �Disarm,� and then he�s got my sword, the blade forced from my hand by the Skill. I skip backward, breaking away before he can attack me, even as the Bandit steps up and the Gunslinger shifts to get a line of sight on me.

They come for me, the Guardian�guarding what, his rancid desires?�leading the way. He swings my borrowed sword, intent on ending me. Too bad for him it�s a Soulbound weapon and I dismiss it with a thought, then I let him run into the others I conjure. I don�t stop, can�t stop, as I dance past him to show the Bandit what happens when you pair Cleave, a Soulbound weapon, and nearly a hundred points of strength together. He takes three hits before he finally flops to the floor, dead. After that, mopping up the Gunslinger is a cinch.

It�s only when I�m standing in the middle of the bank, covered in blood and guts, my pulse slowing and the rage that ate away at my reason dissipating, that my brain kicks in and lists all the problems I�ve got. Starting with how I�m going to explain this to everyone.

�You really shouldn�t hog all the fun,� Ingrid calls from the doorway she leans against, cleaning her nails with a dagger.

I roll my eyes, knowing she�s doing that for effect. Of course, I don�t tell her it does look as cool as she thinks it does.

�What are you doing here?� I flick my gaze upward to my minimap and blink, seeing more dots slowly coming in.

�You really need to work on your poker face,� Ingrid says, eyes dancing with amusement. �And you�re about as subtle as a hammer. We all figured you were keeping something to yourself.�

�More like a tank rolling down the street.� Lana walks up with the puppies beside her. On a nearby rooftop, Roland is perched, watching over the proceedings. �So what�s in there?�

I frown, glancing down and then back at them. Another reason I chose to do this was to save them from the sights and smells below. The memories�

�Three women. Mutilated and kept by them.� I gesture at the bodies and watch as the ladies straighten, tension going through their bodies.

�Okay. Ingrid and I will go down. You, clean this up,� Lana says brusquely, striding forward, trailed by Ingrid.

�Stuck with clean up. Again,� I mutter before casting Clean on myself and trying to figure out what to do.

In the end, I go with the easy option and toss the bodies into storage. I�ll find a cliff to discard them from later. The blood is easy enough to mop up, using stolen clothing to push it around. Rather than storing them, I keep the Gunslinger�s pistols out, reloaded and cleaned, as well as a guard�s shotgun. And then I wait.

It takes them over an hour to return, the women washed and Cleaned, in new clothes and looking much healthier. Each of them is still missing the lower portion of a leg, but with Lana�s and Ingrid�s help, they�re able to ascend the building. Once I make it clear they�re for them, the ladies grab the pistols and shotgun I�ve left out, though Lana stops one of the ladies. She glares at Lana, her lip curling until another lady pulls on her arm. I watch the byplay, frowning slightly, but say nothing as I get a series of cold shoulders.

Stupid. Stupid old John for not putting the pieces together. The last thing they�d want is a male presence right now. Even if it�s one that saved them.

When we finally get back to the camp where Mikito has been keeping watch, Kyle is woken by the commotion. His jaw drops slightly when he sees one of the girls, and he rushes over to her. She flinches, moving away from his touch, which makes him pause, a flash of pain and self-recrimination flowing across his face. The kid manages to hide it, hovering around the girls and doing the best he can to help. Soon enough, the women are inside the group�s tent, asleep and watched over.

Lana walks over to where I�ve taken post, watching over the surroundings. I know other groups are out there, waiting and watching, trying to glean our intentions. Hopefully this helps.

�I wish you hadn�t done that,� Lana says.

�What?�

�The guns,� Lana replies then gestures to the tent. �Not a shrink, but pretty sure one of them has Stockholm Syndrome.�

Oh� I blink, staring at the tent. I understand the concept�that hostages, forced into close confines with their captors, actually come to side with them. I�m not exactly sure the reasons for this, beyond the fact that humans are weird, but I�d wager their recent experiences could do that. �She dangerous?�

�To us?� Lana snorts. �Maybe if Mikito lent her her weapon and we promised not to move for a few minutes. But still��

�Sorry, thought they�d like some semblance of security,� I say, explaining my reasoning.

Lana nods, accepting my explanation. �Now, are you going to stop doing that shit?�

�Huh?� I blink, staring at her. �Oh. You mean hiding the group?�

�Exactly. And doing it by yourself. We�re not shrinking violets here, you know,� Lana says.

�Shrinking violets?�

�It�s a saying. We�re not demure ladies of the night,� Lana says.

I pause, waiting.

�Okay, that wasn�t� you know what I mean.�

�I do.� I sigh. �Sorry. Just after the last time��

�The mountain man incident?�

�Yeah.� I sigh again. �But you�re right. I need to learn to talk to you guys. It�s just� hard.�

Lana shrugs. �Try, John. Try very hard. Because we can�t be a team if you don�t talk to us. And we�re getting pretty damn tired of this.�

We turn together to look at Kyle, who is seated at the fire and staring at the tent with the look of a puppy that has been put out. I debate asking for details. Why it happened. When it happened. How it could be let to continue. But in the end, I leave it alone.

The past doesn�t matter. Not here. What is, is. We can move on or drown in the pain.

It takes us the better part of a week to convince the majority of the survivors to trust us and join our little convoy. To get their trust, we do everything from duels to quests to a night of drinking. We scare more than a few groups by showing up on their doorsteps even when they move, but in the end, some still won�t come. As the convoy finally moves out, Lana and Sam in the lead, I find myself staring at the trucks and chuckling.

�Fifty for your thoughts,� Ingrid says beside me.

�I thought it was a penny.�

Ingrid smiles, pulling out a bill and offering it to me. I stare at the fifty-dollar note, the plastic looking almost pristine even after all this time.

�Penny. Fifty dollars. Hell, I got an envelope of it somewhere,� Ingrid says. �You want it?�

�Yeah� no,� I say, shaking my head. So strange to think that we chased these pieces of paper � well plastic now - for all our lives and now she can�t even give it away. An illusion, shattered by the System. �I was thinking I should get a pipe and play a song.�

�The pied piper?� Ingrid sweeps her gaze over the refugees, some of them driving beat-up old trucks whose only advantage is their lack of technology. �Wasn�t he the bad guy?�

�Depends on what he did with the children after,� I say.

At least in the version I read, they never did say what happened. I stare at the string of vehicles, thinking of the journey ahead.

Chapter 5

I sigh as I trace the map of the highway, scribbled pre-System population numbers along each of the cities. We�d been in Dawson Creek for three days now, our search parties spread out and pulling whatever survivors they could from the scattered small towns back to our temporary base of operations. We set up here because the highway split from this point, giving us the best access to the smaller communities along those arteries of civilization.

To the east is Grand Prairie, with a population of around sixty thousand, and much farther along the highway is the city of Edmonton. To the west and south, we hit Prince George, which had roughly the same population as Grand Prairie, and eventually Kamloops. The problem is, with the way the highways worked and the Rockies in between, I wasn�t entirely sure we could get across the Rockies if we went east and entered Alberta. Technically we�d be traversing a portion of the mountain range that made up the Rockies if we went west, but it was significantly flatter. Which probably meant that the zones would be lower. I had a bad feeling that that wasn�t the case with the southern Rockies, where Calgary was. Certainly if the System continued its usual routine, Banff and its surroundings would be murderous.

However, on a practical note, the populations of Edmonton and Calgary were significantly higher than what we�d find in the numerous smaller cities that made up British Columbia. That is, until you hit Vancouver, which had more people in its greater metropolitan area than Alberta�s two main cities. In the end, of course, the numbers came up roughly the same. Give or take a few hundred thousand. Before the System.

�And you can�t get anything else?� I ask Ali for the hundredth time.

�No. I�ve mined the sources I have access to. Anything more, and we�ve got to hit a Shop,� Ali says, his arms crossed.

I stare at the map again, knowing that the decision of where to go needs to be made soon. �We got to get these people to a Shop soon.�

That�s step one. But realistically, the difference in distance between Grand Prairie and Prince George is minor. I hate playing the pied piper, dragging people from place to place, keeping them alive while they stare at us and our Classes, Skills, and equipment with obvious envy. Or in some cases, reverence, which is almost worse.

East or west. The choice might seem easy, but either way we go, we�ll be leaving people behind, people we�re choosing not to help. There�s no way to save everyone, but what kind of people would we be if we didn�t try?

It�s not purely altruistic, of course. The more humans there are, the higher our chances of actually controlling our own destiny. People are weird, strange, and selfish creatures, but in the end, we�re stronger together than alone. For all our fantasies about being the Lone Ranger, we forget that even he had a companion. I might be an introvert by nature, but I understand that people are necessary. There�s no way I could check out all the various towns by myself, no way to clear all the dungeons�heck, no way to even build the equipment I need. People are what make a society strong.

For all that, sometimes the burden of choice is left to a few. We�ve talked about it, weighed the pros and cons together, determined the various options available. In the end though, a decision has to be made and someone has to bear the burden. Better for it to be me, alone, than the group.

And if I have to bear the burden, I might as well go where I want to.

�Thanks,� Sam says from where he works on his truck while I watch the convoy roll down the highway.

Lana and her pets are ranging out front with the scouts and Ali, sweeping monsters clear ahead of the group and mapping potential problems. We actually found a pair of hunters, one with a Scout and another with a Ranger Class, who are pretty useful. Their ability to Map and share this information backward has improved our movement speed. In fact, it shouldn�t take more than a day to get to Prince George, if we decide to push it.

�What for?� I say to Sam, watching as a Mechanic swaps out some spark plugs in an attempt to start up the truck.

�Heading west,� Sam says.

I recall that Sam has family there and find myself nodding. Not everyone wants, or has the funds, to buy the information on their families. Sometimes, false hope is better than nothing.

�Not needed. It wasn�t really part of the consideration,� I say.

My words makes Sam look at me, dark eyes tight before he laughs. �You are a strange one. All right then. Why are we going to Vancouver?�

�I want to see the ocean again,� I say with a smile.

My words make Sam blink. With a forced laugh, he ducks his head back under the hood to get the truck started. I�d chide him for not getting it ready before now, but he�s been working all night getting as many vehicles working as possible.

�You going to just stand there?� Sam grouses.

I chuckle, turning my attention to him fully. This is going to be a long trip.

No wall. That�s the first thing that comes to mind when we roll up to the city. Instead, across the Fraser River are watchtowers, blockades made of twisted metal and concrete to slow down assaults. In the distance, I note the other bridge is destroyed, its debris lying abandoned in the water while more watchtowers dot the surroundings. Most are automated, with only a few manned. Once again, I�m impressed. These guys are on the ball, the reception party having received us nearly a hundred kilometers out. For all their caution and making us wait and verifying details about the group, they�ve also been very courteous.

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Town of Prince George)

Mana flows in this area have been stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Town of Prince George City Center

The Shop

Armory

More�

Our escorts guide us through the blockades and the watchtowers without a word, the reception party taking care of the refugees and allocating them empty houses and apartments. The refugees are grateful and happy as a small crowd of humans gathers around to greet and speak with those who arrive. There are even a few embraces and tears as those once thought lost are found again.

As the refugees split up, we get escorted in deeper by our guards. I let my eyes roam over the guards, watching the way they move, fascinated by the green-blue variations of color on their scales and the way the frills on their heads flap and shift as they speak to one another. As I watch them, I can�t help but note the guards have a certain edge I�ve come to associate with those of us who live on the pointy end of the stick.

Much like Whitehorse, Prince George had been purchased by an alien species, a Clan of Khminnie. By the time they purchased it, six months into the System change, the population had shrunk significantly. Now, nearly half of the population is made of the Khminnie, the lizards owning and running all the important shops and services with humans relegated to being second-class citizens.

Still, the humans here are happy for the most part, at least according to Ali. Living as a second-class citizen might not be ideal, but it is living. It�s easy to say you�d never give up a little freedom for safety when you�re behind a computer, resting in a warm home with a full stomach. It�s another when you�ve spent every day of a year fearing for your life.

Soon enough, we�re waved into a house. Inside, a massive eight-foot-tall Khminnie sprawls on the floor, casually eating strips of raw meat while he listens to a young human lady playing the cello. I flick my glance over the two, noting the lady�s Musician Class before I lock on the Clan Head.

Vrymina Ollimar (Level 39 Goldtooth Hunter)

Title: Clan Head of the Frost Claws

HP: 3840/3840

MP: 780/780

Conditions: None

Damn. That�s a ton of Health Points. I�ve seen monsters with higher, but never a fighter. Of course, I can�t read the stats for some of those I�ve met, but it�s still impressive. That�s a Constitution of nearly 384, unless he has a Skill or two that enhances it. No doubt that�s no Basic Class but an Advanced one.

�Greetings, Redeemer,� Vrymina says, sitting up when we come in. He stares at me for a second before he twists his head in an angular direction, almost as if he�s offering me his neck.

Unconsciously, I mimic the motion before his gaze shifts to Lana, Mikito, and Sam. Ingrid�s ghosting around town, not willing to trust them yet.

�Greetings, Clan Head,� I say, bowing to him. �This is my party.�

I quickly introduce everyone, watching as the pleasantries complete. Once again, I�m thankful that the language downloads the System sells include a series of basic courtesies and customs from the language purchased. Thankfully, general Galactic custom is that one must abide by the rules of the world that you currently visit.

Which makes certain worlds less popular. The Wiblox are golem-like creatures who swap minor body parts upon meeting a new individual, each body part imprinted with their own aura. Visitors are expected to lop off their own minor limbs when visiting, which obviously doesn�t work well for most races.

�Tell me, is your party open to taking on a small request from us?� the Clan Head says, getting around to why he invited us to visit him. Not that we were going to turn down the Clan Head after adding a few hundred refugees to his population.

�Uhh�� I glance back toward my friends. The plan had been to stop, Shop, and hop. After all, if the Town is settled, it certainly doesn�t need us.

�It�s a small matter, and one that we can certainly make worth your while,� Vrymina says, leaning forward.

�Well, it can�t hurt to look,� I say, curious now.

Quest Received

Collect 150 Lumar Hide Pieces

Reward: 20,000 Credits, improved relations with Frost Claws

Accept Quest (Y/N)

�I�m guessing those are System-registered skins?� I send to Ali when I see the notification.

�Got it in one, boy-o. �Course we could get the bodies skinned too,� Ali says, and I nod.

With a little prodding, I get a full description of the target beast, including their average Level of 48. The Lumar are quadpedal creatures with wide mouths, serrated teeth, and tiny ears, with antenna instead of noses and a high resistance to damage due to their scales. Since we get between four to seven pieces of hide from each monster and they work in herds, it�s not an impossible task.

�I recall seeing many strong warriors in the Frost Claw clan on our way here�� I say leadingly, curious as to why he�d offer us this quest.

�They are. However, we have great need for many things. In a month, my clan will be taking part in a large gathering and we must bring many gifts. These hides were rare, found only in one other world before your world�s introduction to the System. After being transported here though, these beasts have flourished and are now more populous than in the areas we have access to on their original world. Bringing these hides to my people will bring us great prestige,� Vrymina explains unabashedly.

While the hides might initially be in great demand, once they start flooding the market, the price is likely going to drop too. Still, that was a problem for someone else. We�ve got a decent quest.

�May I have a word with my friends?� I ask and, after getting an easy agreement, pull the group aside. It doesn�t take long before I come back with our answer. �We accept. If you�ll excuse us, Clan Head��

�You will not stay to feast?�

�No. Perhaps once we are done,� I answer, bowing slightly to the lazing reptile-man.

Outside, Mikito turns to me and informs me of the decision the group has come to without my input. �Two groups. Lana, Sam, and Ingrid. Me and you.�

�Not three?�

�No. Sam needs more levels and experience first,� Mikito says with a shrug. �And I don�t have the carrying capacity.�

�Right.� I nod slowly. With Lana�s pets, they can cover a lot more ground and even carry some of the carcasses on the puppies if desired. �Ali, which way?�

�North and west. We�ll be heading into the forest around there,� Ali replies, flicking his hand to send a map. Within it is a quick display of monsters that we had come across, as well other information about recent Lumar sightings. Most of it was second-hand information, of course, but it was enough for us.

In bike mode, Mikito�s PAV looked similar to mine. Sleek, modern lines, inflatable tires which could�and usually did�convert to anti-gravity plates. She had even gone with the austere black paint job. In power-armored mode though, the differences were significant. Sleeker and less armored, hers was also surprisingly more responsive than Sabre. She�d sacrificed armor and strength for greater levels of agility, allowing the mecha to supplement her combat style. Mikito had also sacrificed most of her long-range weapon options, instead using mobile, surface-level shields for added protection. On top of that, an ephemeral outline of ghostly armor shrouds the mecha, her Class Skill activated.

I marvel at the way the woman moves, dancing through the herd of Lumar with her naginata, the blade slicing and dicing. Each movement opens a new cut along a creature�s hide, her petite figure moving so fast the Lumar never manage to catch up with her. We�d lucked out and found a herd of eleven, nearly double the normal size, grazing at a waterhole. The moment we spotted them, Mikito rushed into the group to take them on, leaving me to deal with the ugly brown-assed monster in front of me.

Lumar Alpha (Level 64)

HP: 1973/2080

MP: 430/430

Condition: Annoyed

I�ve just unloaded the Inlin�s full load of projectiles into its body and watched them bounce off, doing little but bruise it. I don�t need Ali to know that the Alpha probably has a physical damage resistance Skill of some sort. As the Inlin reloads, I trigger the sonic pulser, curious to see if it will have any effect.

Enraging your opponent is an effect, right?

Dancing out of the way, I snarl and cut at the monster, watching my blade slice into its hide. It spins quickly on its four feet, grey hide flaring and gaining a purple sheen. I don�t have time to pay attention though, as a trio of Lumar break away from the group that have been attempting to attack Mikito and rush me, drawn by the Alpha�s call.

I jump, triggering the anti-gravity plates for a second to aid my gravity-defying leap, and launch some of my mini-missiles at them. They fly down, sticky insta-cement stored inside the missiles spraying out and solidifying around the monsters, hampering their movement as it sets. While moving backward, I trigger my other Skills, sending multiple blade slashes at the trapped group. Blood sprays, flesh parts, and bone shows under the onslaught of Blade Strikes, the blue crescents of force damaging the trio.

Then gravity asserts itself. I never make it all the way down; the Alpha having estimated where I would land charged my falling form. It slams into me, sending me spinning through the air. Sabre�s shield flares, its integrity beleagured as I spin through the air and tear apart a couple of trees.

When I finally get back on my feet, the Alpha is halfway to me. I raise the Inlin, unloading the weapon once more even as I run to the right. The Alpha snarls, eyes narrowing as it realizes I�m not targeting it but its trapped comrades. Unlike the Alpha, the rest of the Lumar aren�t that tough and the projectiles punch into their mangled flesh. A part of me notes that we�re not likely going to get any additional hide pieces from those mangled bodies.

After that, it�s a matter of kiting the Alpha, using Blade Strikes whenever I get far enough away, and dodging otherwise. Tough and powerful as it is, without the help of its friends, it can�t box me in. It only surprises me twice more�the first being the stored kinetic attack it uses to rip apart Sabre�s and my Soul Shield, and the second when it temporarily summons the spirits of its fallen comrades. Luckily, it pulled that trick when it was close to death and its friends disappeared when we focused our attacks on the Alpha.

�That� was interesting,� I said, gesturing to where the spirits were.

�Yes.� Mikito tugs her naginata out of the skull of the Alpha, glowering at the figure and staring at her mangled arm armor. �You don�t mind I jumped in, do you?�

�Har. No, you do more damage than I do,� I say frankly. �There�s a new armor-piercing attack, isn�t there?�

�Yes.� Mikito pauses before continuing. �You�ve been slacking off in the fighting recently.�

�Eh. You guys need the experience and well�� At Mikito�s prompting, I continue. �I�ve been thinking about the nature of experience. Ever wonder about what experience actually is?�

�No.�

I stare at the young lady and sigh. Of course she didn�t. Mikito seems quite happy to take the world as it is, beating up monsters and Leveling rather than probing into the details of the System. Truth be told, she�s probably had more important things to deal with. Most people are like her, especially since the Fool�s Quest is something only idiots like me feel the need to pursue. �Don�t worry about it then.�

�No, tell me.�

�Okay. So what is experience? We get it by killing monsters, completing quests, and in some cases, fulfilling our Class pre-requisites. But what is it?� I say, then pause. �There�re a few leading theories in the books I�m reading.

�Firstly, the stress theory. �Experience� could be shorthand for the changes our bodies undergo when we�re stressed�so the higher the stress level, the higher the chance our body has to accept changes created by the System. There are numerous theories about why�nanomachines that need to burrow deeper or intrinsic Mana alterations by the System are just a couple�but it helps explain why in a disparate Level group, the lower Level individuals receive more experience than the higher Level ones. But in the same encounter, without the higher-Level individual, the lower Levels would get even more experience. More stress, right?�

Mikito nods, frowning. �And quests?�

�That�s where it breaks down a bit. After all, we�ve completed the quest, why would we get experience? Some people say it�s actually our experience already, just stored up during the process of completing the quest and given out at once. Others say it might actually be the quest giver�s experience�the nanobots or Mana or whatever, accumulated by the individual but stored offsite to be distributed later. It�d explain why quests really only come from higher-level individuals or via quest boards,� I say. �The second theory that I personally like is the Mana siphon theory.�

Mikito nods, having looted the bodies and started walking out of the clearing, forcing me to follow as we hunt for more monsters.

�Well, experience in this theory is just the System rewarding us for being good Mana siphons. The more Mana we use�say, in a fight�the more experience we get. The more likely we�ll use Mana�and survive to do it�the more experience we get, which gets us Levels to use it more. Of course, it also encourages us to not fight stupidly hard monsters and die or pick on creatures we can beat by flicking our fingers,� I say. �This theory relies on the System wanting us to use Mana, but��

�You like it,� Mikito states. �But why sit back?�

�Sam and Lana need more levels�so whether it�s more stress or more Mana use, me helping doesn�t add to their experience. I�ve also got Ali tracking my experience gains recently while I don�t fight and just practice my Spells and Skills. I wanted to see which, if any, made sense and how different it was compared to the books I�ve been reading. Did you know that you gain Mana on a regular basis even if you aren�t fighting? Not a lot, but it�s a non-zero amount.�

�No. But why are you doing all this?�

�Well, most of the experiments were run on stable, non-Dungeon planets. I figured if I can get a series of baselines, we could run the numbers backward using some of the formulas presented and debunk them or potentially improve on a few.� When Mikito just continues to give me a blank stare, I add, �If I can do that, I can publish a paper in the System with my findings. I might even make a few Credits.�

Mikito stares at me for a long moment before she turns her mecha away, walking off without a word. I can almost hear the word �Baka,� even if she doesn�t say it. Okay, fine. My hobbies might be a little weird, but I�m trying to find something a little more productive than being a combat junkie.

Chapter 6

Finishing the quest took a few days of hunting, more of the time spent actually locating the damn monsters than fighting. What was that saying? Hours of waiting and a few minutes of heart-pounding terror? Either way, the Clan Head was suitably thankful and approved the quest completion immediately once we got back. He even waived the charges on the butchering, which boosted our Credits a bit.

Since I had no current needs in the Shop, I decided to save my Credits, though Sam took the opportunity to go shopping. He refused to show us what he bought though, muttering about it �not being ready.� The most I could get was that instead of buying completed pieces, he elected to put together his equipment himself.

Other than a few grateful refugees who slowed us down when we left, leaving the alien-owned town was pretty simple. Not surprisingly, there�s a significant drop in the number of people who follow us. Most of those who come have family or friends they desperately need to meet.

The drive down to Kamloops was long and boring. Since most of the settlements near Prince George had been cleared of survivors, we had no reason to stop and instead journeyed south directly. It wasn�t until we hit 100 Mile House that we found signs of any living being, and in this case, it was a small and entirely unfriendly group of humans. Deciding that we�d prefer not to damage our equipment, we left the gun-happy group to their own devices and swung around the survivors to head to Kamloops.

Late spring was in bloom all around us as we drove to the city, flowers waving gently and alternately perfuming and poisoning the air. As we traveled, we noted the shifting zone levels, some dipping as low as the twenties while other times spiking up to the fifties. Forested mountains surrounded us while hungry bears and other hibernating animals prowled the roadways, occasionally attempting a human-sized snack.

The evolution into a Dungeon World had brought some significant changes to our world. The purple-and-pink forested mountain, the field of poisonous flowers, and the dryad that danced through the trees, tempting us, were just the biggest outliers. Pine and oak now combined with silverkennel and unnzwek trees while squirrels battled imps for nuts and survival.

Sadly, outside of those lone survivors at 100 Mile House, we found no others. Of course, considering it was technically only a few hours� drive between 100 Mile House and Kamloops, it could be that they�d made their way in. It was something I think we all preferred to believe.

Hopefully, that�s what happened and not something more sinister. Unfortunately, sinister might just be the case, especially with the group sitting on what looks like a tank at the Thompson River crossing, waiting for us.

�Good day,� I greet the group as we roll in slowly.

�Who are you?� one of the group calls. He�s got four arms, two on either side, and an orange, ruddy face, his body covered in a silver bodysuit-armor combo.

�Adventurers from the north,� I call back, smiling widely. I could say visitors or travelers, but Adventurers has a nice ring to it and carries specific connotations in this new world.

�Registered?� Four Arms says.

Crap. Bluff called.

�No,� I call back, smiling widely. �No guild.�

�No problem, we�re always looking for Adventurers,� Four Arms says and waves us forward. �We�ll just need to escort you in. Also, you know about our entrance fee?�

�No. What is it?�

�Just five thousand Credits per person.�

I cough, staring at the man. Five thousand Credits is insane! �That is insane, right?�

�Yup. That�s called a shakedown, boy-o.�

�John?� Lana asks, glancing dismissively at the group.

Ever since Ali upgraded the last time, he�s been able to share the Status information with the party, allowing Lana and group to see their info if he wants to. It still takes a bit of an effort, so he only does that when he expects a fight, like now.

�Chill. We�re here to play nice,� I mutter softly.

That gets a snort from Ingrid.

�It�s okay if you don�t have it. We�ve got some very reasonable loan agreements,� Four Arms continues, smiling widely. �Why don�t we escort you in?�

�Sure,� I agree immediately.

These guys all have Levels in the thirties and forties at the Basic Level, which makes them not much more difficult than the monsters we killed. Admittedly, they�re augmented by technology, but I still can�t see them being a major problem.

Dropping my voice, I ask the group, �How come they�re so confident? We out-Level them by a lot.�

�That�d be me,� Ingrid says, her voice cackling over the radio. �Upgraded one of my Skills and I can now push false information out instead of just hiding it. Since we�re grouped, I dropped all our levels by a bit. Well, everyone but yours, John.�

I grunt, nodding. Fair enough. My System level looks weird anyway at 37. Since there�s no Basic Class attached to it and my Class is rare enough that most wouldn�t know of it�at least not out here at a glance�I basically read as significantly weaker than I am.

The group surrounds us the moment we cross the bridge, �escorting� us to town with the tank at the back of the procession. On our left, the Thompson River feeds into Kamloops Lake, running alongside us all the way in. Abandoned resorts, warehouses, and residences dot the land we drive by. As we pass the golf course, I tilt my head to the side, staring toward where the glowing dot of an established dungeon flashes on my map. The group around us says nothing, so I follow suit, tagging and sending the information to the party. Something to look into when we have time.

On the drive in, I cudgel my brain for information on the town. I�ve driven by a few times, mostly on the way to a provincial park for weekend hiking. Kamloops was mostly a mining and forestry town, from what I recall, with a decent trade in tourists during the summer. There was a major rail line and an airport, with the 5, 97, and the Trans-Canada highways all connecting in it. Oh, and it had a university too.

As we finally approach the city after swinging away from the lake for a bit, I recall a few other facts. Most importantly, Kamloops is a split city�nearly two-thirds of the city lies across the river in the northwest, connected by a bridge. The northeast, which is also split by the meeting of another river, doesn�t really have much. The city center itself is on this side though, which makes me wonder if they consolidated at all.

You have entered a Safe Zone (The Town of Kamloops)

Mana flows in this area have been forcefully stabilized. No monster spawning will occur within boundaries.

This Safe Zone includes:

Town of Kamloops City Center

The Shop

11 Farming Centers

More�

Finally, we�re officially in the town boundaries. A quick review of the map information shows that the �town� is actually only everything on this side, the other portion of the town abandoned. It makes sense to do this; after all, it makes hitting the land requirements to create a town easier.

�Looks like they paid to specify the town boundaries,� Ali sends to me, staring at the information. His fingers waggle and he stares at more information before grunting. �That�s why. These guys do have the money. They�re part of the Thirteen Moon Sect. Cartel? Gang? You get my meaning, right, boy-o?�

�You�re saying that the owners of Kamloops�the Thirteen Moon Sect�are rich and ruthless?� I reply to Ali out loud, letting the party into our conversation over the radios.

�Got it in one. Nasty little group, known more for their criminal activities than their governance�but they are a government. Damn it�� Ali falls silent. Since he doesn�t have a radio, he can only talk to me or out loud.

I understand his annoyance. Now that they know we don�t have a Guild backing us, we�re in an exposed position. Guilds in the Galactic Council are the equivalent of companies in our old world, if you�d accept the use of a loose metaphor. Big enough Guilds are like multinational corporations, often powerful enough to bully smaller countries or groups. In this case, the Sect is probably the equivalent of a small country. Due to a law passed a few thousand years ago, Guilds aren�t allowed to own towns and villages, a necessary step to ensure they don�t get too powerful.

�Boss, Henri�s got a bad, bad feeling about this place,� Sam�s voice cackles over the radio.

It takes me only a moment to recall who Henri is�Henrietta Poskart, a Seer with Class Skills that dealt with �seeing� things, whether in the present or future.

�No shit,� Lana says. �On the left, one hundred twenty meters.�

I glance over and spot the group of humans walking along the road, carrying the carcass of a furred and barbed creature on their shoulders. They are dirty, disheveled, and malnourished�which is saying something in a world with a Clean spell and Mana nourishment. Behind them, a Dwarf walks with a whip, cracking it across a back when he thinks they�re slowing down. Over the radio, I hear the hiss of exhaled breath.

�Serfs.�

�Serfs,� I say, repeating Ali as he provides further information. �They�ve been bought by the Dwarf under an indentured contract for two hundred years.�

�Two hundred years!� Lana splutters.

�Don�t forget, gene therapy and the System have increased our lifespan a lot,� Ingrid says. �How long, we�re still not certain, but a few hundred sounds just about right.�

�Sounds like slavery to me,� Sam says angrily.

�Ali says to keep calm. We can�t afford to take them on. They might be smaller as a group than the Duchess, but they�re still a government. They�re spread out across multiple worlds,� I say, doing my best to keep my voice calm and soothing. I stare at the map, quickly resorting the data as I look for information about the Sect in the city.

One mid-Level Advanced Class and three others in the low teens Advanced Classes make up the major punching power of the Sect in the city. Two of the low-Level Advanced Classes are near the mid-Level. The third is at what I�m assuming is the butchering yard or mess hall, from the way the dots congregate and move around in that area. After that, we have another dozen in the Level 30s and a few in the 40s of the Basic Class with nearly a score in the 20s. Quite a few, though at a glance, only two-thirds of them are combat Classers.

It takes me a moment to figure out why. Most of the humans have Levels in the twenties and thirties, and the vast majority aren�t combat Classes. The highest non-party human is a Level 37 Marksman, from what I can see, though there might be a few more out of the city right now. With that kind of Level disparity, they�d only need the top group to keep everyone else in check. In the end, the numbers present in Kamloops don�t matter. It�s their overall strength that is a concern.

�We just going to sit here and let them do this?� Sam growls as we drive through the deserted streets. Whatever you have to say about them, the Sect has done well at clearing the streets of broken down automobiles and other refuse of pre-System technology.

�What do you want us to do? Kill them all? Then what? We might be able to leave and escape their revenge, but what about everyone else?� Ingrid says bitingly. �Ali�s right. Stay out of it. Anything we do is going to make it worse.�

�This doesn�t sit right with me,� Sam says.

�Nor for us. But we�ll hold back for now,� Lana says softly, something unreadable in her voice.

�Will you look at that, you humans can learn,� Ali says wryly. Still, I hear the tinge of bitterness in his voice. After all, Ali�s presence as my Companion is due to a similar contract, as I understand it. He won�t explain it in detail though, even when I�ve pushed him.

�Button up, people, we�re here,� I say as we finally come to a stop.

Unlike Roxley�s ostentatious silver skyscraper, Kamloops�s city center building is a grey, cinder block government building situated near the center of the new Town. Ugly and boring, without a trace of soul.

Mikito and I stride through the corridors to meet the titular owner of the city�or is it administrator?�escorted by a trio of guards including Four Arms. The rest of the party is outside, keeping watch over the vehicles and the survivors, the pets spread out around the group and chewing on a snack. The crunch and crack of thigh-sized bones ripple through the coms, a not-so-subtle warning about what the pets could do if released.

Seated behind an oak desk, a slim, nearly cadaverous humanoid-avian creature bobs its head as we enter. No lips, just a beak that chirps loudly, translated a second later through speakers set across its throat. Behind him are his bodyguards, the pair of low-Level Advanced Classes, their arms crossed as they glower at me. One�s a black-skinned orc, a Hakarta derivative of some form. The other looks similar to Four Arms behind us, except he�s bigger and sports six arms.

�Greetings, Adventurers. I understand you are lacking in funds for the entry fee?� the avian says when my gaze finally comes back to rest on him.

�It�s a little steep,� I say, coming to a rest position in front of the avian. I�d sit, but there�s no chair on this side of the desk. I take a moment and scan his status bar.

Bimmox (Level 36 Sect Sub-Chief)

HP: 1080/1080

MP: 2430/2430

Conditions: None

�That�s not a combat class, is it?� I send to Ali and get a confirmation immediately.

Advanced Class, but non-combat. On the other hand, that doesn�t mean he doesn�t have his own tricks up his sleeve. After all, there�s no reason why he couldn�t have bought combat Class Skills in the Shop. In fact, I�d almost guarantee he has. It does mean, however, that there are only two specialized combat Classers in town and both are right across from us.

�Surely a group as well-equipped as you can afford it,� Bimmox screeches before the robotic voice translates a moment later.

�Not for all our people,� I say, curious to see where he�s going with this.

�Ah, those are not chattel for sale?� Bimmox says.

�And if they were?�

�We could negotiate. Though their Classes are common and their Levels low. We could not offer more than a few thousand Credits per person. The cost of upgrading them to a useful Level, well, you understand,� Bimmox says.

�I see.� I exhale, staring at the monster. I push down the flash of revulsion, forcing peace and tranquility into my mind by sheer willpower. �We won�t be selling them. We�ll just keep moving on.�

�Well, there�s a problem with that, you see. You�ve already entered my Town and have yet to pay us,� Bimmox says.

Behind me, I sense the trio of guards spreading out.

�John, we�ve got more people surrounding the vehicles,� Lana�s voice comes over the radio.

I mentally adjust the radio settings, letting them hear my side of the conversation as well as Bimmox�s. �Well, Bimmox, what exactly are you saying?�

�That we will get our entry fee, one way or the other,� Bimmox says.

�We�ve got thirteen survivors and my group, so that�s ninety thousand Credits in total? How do we do this?� I say, my voice calm. I hear a slight gasp over the radio, too soft for me to make out who it is. I understand though�it�s a hell of a lot of Credits.

�Ssss�� Bimmox hisses and stares at me. �Unfortunate, but each entrant must pay for their own entry fee. Unless they are Serfs of another.�

�I see,� I continue to say calmly. �And if they were?�

�I�d ask to see the contracts of course. Though I should add that falsifying such documentation is a crime.� Bimmox blinks, eyelids closing from the front to back in a thoroughly alien manner.

�I think if I brought out such documentation, I�d find that there�s another law I�d have to deal with, no?�

�What can I say? Laws are laws,� Bimmox hisses after that, its body moving forward and backward. After a moment, I realize it�s the monster�s equivalent of laughter.

�Perhaps you can send these laws to me. My Companion can check them over to ensure we comply with them all.�

�Ah� that is impossible. Only the Administrators may see such information,� Bimmox says again, rocking back and forth.

�Sounds like he�s taking you for a ride,� Lana says over the comms. �We can pay it on our side, but the survivors��

�Why don�t we cut the bullshit?� I say to Bimmox, my smile widening, the walls of peace and calm that surround my mind cracking. �Give me your bottom line.�

�Bottom line?� Bimmox looks puzzled for a second before clarity returns. �Ah, a colloquialism. We just want everyone to comply with the laws. If the individuals behind you are unable to do so, we can offer a loan of the five thousand Credits with appropriate interest rates.�

�I�m assuming we won�t be allowed to leave once we take the loan,� I say and get a nod from Bimmox. �You�re not giving us a lot of choice here.�

�The law is the law,� Bimmox replies.

�Don�t do this.�

�Are you threatening us? Just because your party managed to clear a few dungeons and receive some Credits to purchase equipment means little. You�re still weak,� Four Arms says behind me.

I turn my head slightly and glance at Mikito, who has her helmet down. The black-and-silver reflection from her helmet�s visor stares back at me impassively, offering nothing.

�Well, human, are you paying the fee?� Bimmox says, continuing to rock back and forth, obviously amused and reveling in his power.

I grin at him, my eyes going cold as the anger I�ve been pushing aside rushes in. I tried. I really did.

�Oh hell, here we go again,� Ali says.

The fireball ripples around their shield, spiking the temperature by hundreds of degrees in seconds. I see the shield flickering even as the aliens behind me shout in anger. Mikito shifts, her naginata spinning and lashing out at those behind us even as her ghost armor flickers into existence, taking a portion of the blast damage. My own exposed skin dries out, scorching and cracking, my body cooking.

Bimmox hisses and cackles, his translator not translating whatever he said. Probably good tactics since its likely orders. Long, clawed fingers dance across empty air, sending out an alert. His bodyguards have a gun and a crossbow leveled at me but do not shoot, waiting for the shield to fall. I�ve already shouted my warning to the rest of the party, trusting that the group can handle themselves. Sabre�s on automated defense mode, transformed and attacking, while Sam�s taken control of Mikito�s PAV.

My sword and the conjoined blades stab into the shield, punching a hole with ease, but the shield refuses to fall. I channel a Blade Strike, twisting with my hips to cut downward even as the attack feeds directly into the shield. The shield flickers as my Mana drops with the Skill, finally freeing my blades. Another twist and Cleave, the blades shattering the shield when they finally connect. A red dot behind me disappears as Mikito continues taking on all three Basic combat Classers at the same time.

The moment the shield falls, Bimmox hits me with a spell, the red beam throwing me through the door and down the corridor. Pain, as it cuts into my torso, halves my health in seconds. The bodyguards open fire, both of their shots missing my fast retreating body. The crossbow bolt tears into the side of one their friends who accidentally sidestepped into its path.

�Is that all?� Bimmox screeches, the automated translation carrying some of the mocking tone in his voice. �You people are too��

�Weak?� I ask, standing.

I toss up a Soul Shield and Greater Regeneration, stalking forward. The bodyguards have already shifted to target Mikito, Six Arms dropping his crossbow to wade in with short swords while the other waits for an opening. Realizing I�m still up and moving, the other bodyguard swings his weapon to target me.

�How? You should be dead!� Bimmox says.

�We cheat,� I reply.

Bimmox jabs his hand forward again, the spell blasting. I twist out of the way but he�s already shifting the beam to track me, falling for my feint. The Shield flares as the bodyguard�s and Bimmox�s attack caresses its edges.

I Blink Step behind Bimmox, twisting at the hips and knees to let me build up momentum for the cut that enters his waist. He might have a few powerful spells and a decent amount of hit points, but my sword is boosted with Mana Imbue and Cleave as I attack. The first blade cuts into his waist and exits just above the middle of his chest, tearing flesh and cracking ribs. Then the follow-up blades land.

Bimmox screams, his body butchered as his reflexive dodge puts new parts of his body into line with the floating blades that follow my attack. Fingers twist and jerk, clawed tips flashing outward to catch his balance, then Bimmox disappears, leaving my follow-up stab to strike air. His bodyguard elbows me in the face, throwing me backward before bringing his rifle to bear, triggering a series of shots I deal with by cutting his rifle apart.

�Ali!� I shout, knowing we can�t let Bimmox heal. That attack of his would have killed most of my friends.

�I�m on it!� Ali spins in a circle, searching.

The remains of his rifle discarded, the bodyguard charges me with a pair of punch knives in his hands. We clash, spinning and cutting, blood flying and my shield failing. A lunge cuts across my face, tearing my cheek open even as I impale the Hakarta. I leave the sword inside him while calling another to hand and finish lopping off his arm, leaving me staggering back as the bodyguard kicks me away. Mikito appears behind him. Her naginata tears through the air and he drops, neck separated by a surgical cut. As suddenly as that, the fight in the office is over.

�Lana,� I order Mikito, and she dashes out, her Hasted body blurring.

�Behind you. He�s in the city core room,� Ali instructs me.

I spin around, staring at the wall behind me, then cut into it. I trigger Cleave again and again, ignoring the Mana cost as I race to get in as fast as possible. If Kamloops is anything like Whitehorse, the city has some automated defenses that are controlled from the city core. I need to turn them off. In the background, I hear shouts and gasped words as my friends fight outside.

A fist-sized hole finally appears and I look inside, triggering Blink Step the moment I can see within the simple cream-colored room. The Skill carries me within and above the waiting Bimmox, my sword swinging as I release a Blade Strike. The attack catches Bimmox across his shoulders, ripping loose his already injured shoulder and bathing the room in too‑bright red blood. The avian falls, gasping in pain as its lungs no longer work. Even the regeneration potion it�s drunk is unable to keep up with the damage I lay on it as I land, stabbing again and again into the body.

With the alien dead, I grasp the floating city core, the diamond-shaped core fitting easily into my hand. Nothing happens at first, the core taking a moment to check its requirements before it flashes a notification.

Would you like to take control of the Town of Kamloops?

(Y/N)

�Yes,� I snap, mentally willing acknowledgement.

I snarl as the damn core makes me wait again, a small counter appearing in the corner of my eye. Two minutes. I have to sit and wait for two minutes while the damn System lets everyone who is anyone know that I�m trying to take the city.

Congratulations! You are now the owner of the Town of Kamloops

Current Population: 8,785

City Treasury: 11.7 Million Credits

City Mana: 2,309 Mana Points

Taxes: 20% Sales Tax on Shop

Facilities: Shop, City Center, Educational Institution (1), Retail Outlets (15), Butchering Yard (1), Farms (7)

Defenses: Tier IV Defense Shield, Automated Tier IV Defense Turrets (17), 6 Automated Internal Sentries

First Settlement Acquired!

Bonus +10,000 Experience

A moment and the six changed to five automated sentries. It only takes me a moment to realize why. I snarl, raising my hand as I desperately try to figure out how to turn them off.

�Defense targets change. Target all individuals marked as Thirteen Moons,� Ali chants as he floats up to me, fingers waggling in mid-air, then he shoots me a bemused look. �What are you waiting for, boy-o? I got this. Go help the ladies.�

I pause, conflicted. If someone gets in here�

�Go,� Ali snaps.

I nod, trusting the little olive-skinned Spirit, and run out. Even as I run, I see the dots in my minimap flickering as friends, foes, and neutrals die. Time to finish this.

Chapter 7

The rest of the fight was simple enough. The other Advanced Class Sect member disappeared, never engaging us. The other combat Classers never got their balance long enough to attack us as a group, which meant that my team tore through them without stop. It didn�t help them that Ingrid kept assassinating anyone who showed any real leadership qualities. Afterward, it was just a matter of calming the population down. Thankfully, I could leave that to Lana as I walked back into the City Center.

�Hey, the Serfs are going to be fine, right? No death spells or soul chains or anything that will kill them when the Sect is kicked out? Or if it�s commanded?� I ask Ali as I walk in, the thought striking me only now. A cold sweat breaks out on my skin as I wonder if I�ve just condemned a bunch of people to death.

�Not that I can see. It�s possible but rare and expensive. And not effective in the long-term. Kind of like the sterility shots,� Ali says.

I blink as the System quest updates when Ali mentions that. Well, learning that the System wants us alive, or at least not dead immediately, is interesting but not important at this second.

�How deep in the hole are we?� I say to the Spirit, dismissing the System notification.

�Yes, how badly did we step in it?� Ingrid�s voice floats from the corner where shadows gather. Her Skill drops and reveals the young First Nation woman leaning against the wall. She�s attempting to look blas�, but I know her well enough to read the tension.

�Ingrid.� I nod to her and watch the Assassin pull out a nail file to clean her nails of the accumulated blood. For a moment, I wonder why she doesn�t use a Clean spell, but she�s probably doing it on purpose.

�Depends. The Sect isn�t going to take this lying down, and the fact that you missed a few means they�ll probably know sooner rather than later. On the other hand, they don�t have a portal or a communication array set up, so they�re probably not meant to report in that often. My guess is courier check-ins and arranged meetings via the Shop,� Ali says.

I nod, knowing that some Shops even set up specific inter-dimensional meeting rooms to facilitate such transactions. Guilds, for example, all run their own Shop.

�If the survivors really have left, we�ve probably got a few hours before the Earthbound Sect learns of your attack. For the main Sect? Figure a few weeks to a month at most before they know something went wrong,� Ali says.

�And then�?� I extract a piece of chocolate while I wait for the other shoe to drop.

�Then they�ll likely try to take it back. They�re not the talking type, so they�ll come for you. Probably start local first. Kelowna probably, because it�s closer, unless they feel they need more heavy hitters,� Ali says. �If that fails, they�ll pull from Vancouver and Seattle, where they�ve got their real big boys. If all that fails, I wouldn�t be surprised if they pulled from their Galactic forces.�

�Master Classes?� I say, rubbing my chin. I got my ass kicked the last time I fought a high-level Advanced Combat class. I can�t even imagine what a Master Class is like.

�Unlikely,� Ali says. �It�s a steep pyramid and the Sect isn�t exactly, well, that tight knit. It�s not like the Duchess, who can just order her people around. Most of them are relatively independent. Master Classes are a power onto themselves. They�ll likely send some mid-to-Advanced tier Combat classes to deal with you. It�s easier to dig up a few of those than a single Master. I�d be surprised if they even sent a single Master Class to Earth.�

I nod slowly, understanding Ali�s point. My Advanced Class is already over-powered compared to a Basic Class, so a Master Class would be an entirely different existence. While Earth has a few Master Class-worthy locations�a certain dragon comes to mind�I�ve yet to come across many locations that would be worthwhile for them to visit. As I understand it, it�ll take a while for the ambient Mana pools to deepen sufficiently. The fact that my experience gain has slowed down also drives home how hard it is to advance after a certain point. And I�ve got the advantage that I didn�t have to go through all the Basic Class levels.

�Great. Just a couple of Advanced Classes.� Ingrid snorts, shaking her head.

I glance at her, still seeing the bunch of question marks hanging over her head on her Status bar, before smiling slightly. I understand her point though. Mikito is only in the beginning stages of the Advanced Classes, and the rest of the team hasn�t even reached that point yet. If we were to tangle with a bunch of mid-tier Advanced Classes right now, we�d be in real trouble. We only stood a chance today because everyone around here is so low-Leveled that the Sect didn�t bother to send high-Level enforcers.

�Repercussions for the population?� I say, glancing outward. If we leave now, we could probably run. I don�t like it, but if leaving means the people here aren�t killed�

�Varies. Those who fought on your side or helped out? Probably some torture, extended services,� Ali says. �The rest will likely be left alone. Higher overall taxes, maybe some beatings and more pressure applied to drive the point home.�

�Not horrible,� I say, grimacing. �You said they�ve got Kelowna and Vancouver though?�

�Pretty much all of BC. However, they�re focusing their attention on Seattle right now. From the information I�ve garnered, it�s been more troublesome than they expected.�

�Interesting,� I say.

We could go, take everyone up to Prince George, but I�m not entirely sure bringing a ton of people, especially some indentured individuals, would work out as well as we�d like. If the city didn�t take them in, we�d have to drag them over to Edmonton. Hell, I don�t think we have a way to transport this many even if we want to.

�We planning on leaving?� Ingrid says, looking at me.

�No. Maybe. I�m exploring options,� I say, grimacing.

�We�re not leaving,� Ingrid says, her tone flat. �We started this, we�re finishing it. We can�t just go.�

�But�� I want to point out the amount of time we�d waste. How big an opponent we�re facing. And I shut up, because I realize it doesn�t matter. Not to Ingrid. Or me. She�s right. We started this. �Fine. Get the girls to clean up and start looking for help. We�re likely going to have a bunch of visitors in the next few days and we�re going to need all the help we can get.�

�Of course,� Ingrid says, bowing slightly then fading from view.

�You know, you just called Sam a girl,� Ali teases me. When I just stare at the Spirit, he drops the act and gets serious. �What do you want me to do?�

�They lost because they underestimated us and let us in past their defenses. We can�t let them do that to us. Let�s see what we can do about upgrading the city�s defenses,� I say. With bad guys on the way, defense is the number one priority.

A moment later, Ali pulls information from the city core, sending it directly to me to review.

Tier IV Defense Shield

HP: 15000/15000

HP Regeneration Rate: 250/minute

Automated Tier IV Defense Turrets (17)

Base Damage: 75

Charges: 20/20

4 Automated Internal Sentries (2 damaged)

Core: Tier II Numax Mana Engine

Battery Duration: 6 Hours Standby, 30 Minutes Active

Weapons: Musashi Grisin Mark III Beam Rifle

Interesting. One thing I�ve learned is that while beam rifles are ubiquitous, they�re also generally considered the lowest form of weaponry. Not because they can�t do much damage, but because the amount of damage they can do is limited to their initial construction. Mass manufactured weaponry can do damage, but it isn�t as effective as something individually crafted by a support Class. In contrast, projectile weaponry generally varies in damage, especially if you�re willing and able to pay for the hand-crafted�and Skill-generated�ammunition.

With a flick of my hand, I call up the map of Kamloops again and pull the map out a bit. The town is settled at a crossing of two rivers. The Thompson River runs west to east and is joined by the North Thompson River, dividing the city into three parts. The northwest section is the most expansive and holds a large number of residential houses, the MacArthur Island Park, and the Kamloops Airport. Northeast, there�s little development, mostly industrial and farming locations. Lastly, south of the Thompson River is downtown Kamloops, which the adjusted town boundaries contained.

Another thought and the map flickers, showing the extent of the shield. It covers the entirety of the adjusted town boundaries and reaches almost to the edge of the highway that runs south of the city proper. The seventeen defense turrets are spread equally around the perimeter of the shield wall. The automated sentries are located in the town center. From the looks of it, we managed to damage two of the six sentries from the earlier fight. Oops.

�Hey, why are the turrets on buildings?� I ask Ali.

�Makes it easier to create the safe zone. Building a turret on an existing building adds it to the System, adjusting the Mana flows and property requirements. Also, where else would they put them? In the middle of the road?� Ali says.

I ignore the challenge, looking instead at the defenses. Assuming they intend to send help from either Vancouver or Kelowna, the chances are they�ll be hitting us from the east or west via Highway 1. Of course, once the No. 1 approaches the city from the west, it splits up into smaller feeder roads into the city, which means where they�d actually make an entrance is more difficult to tell. At least in the east, there are fewer feeder roads. On top of all that, they could just ignore the roads entirely, entering the city by walking through buildings or the fields that surround the city.

�How are we going to do this?� I mutter to myself, staring at the information.

The shield limits attackers from just strolling in, but since it�s a single shield, attackers could split and attack across multiple areas, weakening the shield overall before breaching it. Do it well enough and we�d have to split our troops to deal with each attack. If they were smart, they could trick us in splitting our forces and then make an end run to the city center.

�Are we able to split the shield?� I ask.

�What do you mean?� Ali says, looking at me.

�Maybe have the shield powered in different sections? So that if one side fails, the other still stays up?�

�Sure. A few ways of doing that. We can buy multiple shields and set them to generate side-by-side. There are also fragmented shields which basically do the same thing. A lot spaceships use those.�

�Show me.�

Tier II Defense Shield

HP: 15,000

HP Regeneration Rate: 250/minute

Cost: 10.3 Million Credits

Tier III Multi-segment Defense Shield

HP: 10,000 per segment

HP Regeneration Rate: 200/minute

Cost: 25 Million Base Cost + 10 Million per segment

�Expensive,� I exclaim.

�True. But if you�re looking at creating multiple segments, it�s a better option in the long-term,� Ali says.

�Are the shields upgradeable?�

�Yes.�

�Good to know.� Not that we can afford it, but the concern of having our forces split continues to bother me. �Sensors?�

�They�ve got the most basic system,� Ali replies. �No upgrades at all to it. Figure they�ve been relying on their people.�

�Make sense. We don�t have that.�

A thought or two later and new information appears, showing the wide variety of options available for sensor upgrades. I tell the System to hide everything that the town can�t afford. I�m still given too many options, so I hide everything that costs more than ten percent of our current treasury. Even then, there are over a hundred options.

�Arse. Ali��

�I got you,� Ali says, smirking at my attempts to navigate the town�s Shop options by myself. He waves and the list expands, repopulating everything. Next, the information shrinks again suddenly as he inputs new parameters, the total number shrinking to about fifteen options. He hums, the windows flickering between each quickly.

�What are you doing?� I ask.

�Sorting. I filtered by companies by Galactic Reputation points first and then by reviews from trusted sources. Got rid of your percent cost too because you won�t find anything worthwhile. Right now, I�m looking for the knock-offs,� Ali says.

�Trying to get rid of them?�

�Goblin�s arse, no! I�m keeping them. No such thing as your patent laws in the System, so companies copy each other�s designs all the time.�

�Then why would anyone make anything new?� I say with a frown. Doesn�t seem to make much sense.

�A few reasons. For Engineers and other craftsmen, you can�t advance and gain as much experience if you stick to copying. Then of course you�ve got the innovators, the ones who just have to make their own thing. Also, most companies are smart enough to ensure that their schematics require a high-Level individual to make the final product or a portion of it, which limits their competition,� Ali explains, the windows finally stopping their flickering. �So what are you looking for?�

�Data about our attackers�visual, audio, and minimap. Preferably far enough out that we can spot them before they arrive, but I�ll settle for stopping hidden attackers,� I say.

�All right then, boy-o. How about these three?� Ali says.

Tier IV Musami Sensor Array

The Musami Sensor Array is the venerable workhorse of the sensor world. Providing an all-round suite of sensors, the Mumsami sensor array will provide real-time data for towns the Galaxy over.

Range: 10km

Sensitivity Rating: 6

Cost: 7.1 Million Credits

Tier III Kangana Nanite Net

Developed from a nanite factory, the nanite net spreads across its designated scanning area, providing real-time, high-accuracy data on all personnel. Additional add-ons available.

Range: 5km

Sensitivity Rating: 8

Cost: 10.1 Million Credits

Tier IV Sahwano Bionetwork Sensor Grid

A bionetwork sensor grid relies on ambient Mana to power its functioning. While less sensitive than other options, the bionetwork grid is more circumspect and has a lower upkeep cost.

Range: Varies. Initially 3km, with growth up to 40km

Sensitivity Rating: 4

Cost: 3 Million Credits

I frown, staring at the information.

I don�t have to wait long before Ali explains. �The first one is your bog-standard tech option. The second is an upgrade of the sensor suite�more expensive obviously and higher Mana cost for set up, but much more likely to punch through Class Skills and other tech-related stealth options. You also have the option of adding additional fun programming to the nanites, including attack options. Lastly, the bionetwork starts close to the city but will grow out the farthest. It�ll take time, but because it uses ambient Mana sources and has a natural camouflage ability, it�s actually much harder for attackers to know they�ve been spotted.�

�Interesting,� I say, staring at the windows once again.

I have to admit, the low cost of the last option is extremely enticing. I run through in my head what I need for the upcoming fight. A way to mark the Sect�s approach, preferably good enough to pick out potential feints or distractions. Then a defense or two to stop them from breaking in immediately, which is why splitting the shield helps. It�d be nice to get a secondary shield layered directly behind the first, but that�s just as expensive as splitting the shield. On top of that, we actually have to deal with the attackers. Which means we�ll want additional firepower if possible. Unfortunately, we just don�t have enough funds in the town, and considering all these upgrades are in the millions of Credits, I can�t even reach into my own pocket to help.

�Any way to know what they�d send at us? Immediately and in the future?� I ask.

�Even the System can�t tell the future,� Ali says with a snort. �However, we could pull information on the people the Sect have on Earth and do some guessing.�

�How expensive would it be?�

�Expensive,� Ali states with a flat tone that says it all.

Buying information from the System is never cheap. Purchasing information that we have no good way of getting always makes it more expensive, and if the Sect is trying to hide that information, it�d be even higher.

�All right, let�s get the bionetwork sensor grid up first. That�ll give us at least some information,� I say, making some quick decisions. Even if it is purchased from the Shop, it�ll still take a few hours for the entire sensor grid to spread. Figure it�ll take the survivors five to six hours to get to Kelowna, another five to six back, and a few hours of talking, and we�ll likely see some company by tomorrow.

�Done.�

I watch Ali drop the sensor grid over the city, the map shifting and the town�s Credit amount dropping. I bite my lips, thinking of what next to do. What was it again? Know yourself, know your enemy, know the terrain? I�ve got Lana and the team figuring out our resources. The enemy we don�t have time to really dig into�not without costing us too much. That leaves the last�

The Sect knows the terrain probably better than we do. If you don�t like the rules, change them. If playing tower defense games ever taught me anything, it�s that defenses need depth. Of course, it�s not a game and towers built out here are likely to get destroyed, but the idea holds merit. So, disposable and wide-ranging.

�Mines,� I say, waving my hands at the map. A few quick adjustments and I�ve marked out the boundaries, blocking off the area just outside the shield.

Once the area is highlighted, Ali pulls up the cost.

High Explosive Mine Field

A standard, high-explosive mine field that mixes anti-personnel and anti-vehicular mines.

Damage: 100 per mine

Cost (for marked area): 2.5 Million (Tier V) / 4.5 Million (Tier IV)

Tier IV Chaos Mine Field

For the customer who likes a surprise, this mine field consists of a series of buried chaos mines which released stored chaos energy. Effects, as always, vary. Chaos Inc. takes no responsibility for the use of this product.

Damage: Varies

Cost (for marked area): 12 Million

Lumen Standard Enchanted Mine Field

A standard enchanted mine field consists of a mixture of basic elemental and basic technological mines, offering a wide mixture of potential attacks to deal with a wide variety of resistances. Our most popular product by far.

Damage: Varies per mine

Cost (for marked area): 5.5 Million (Tier V) / 8.5 Million (Tier IV)

�Expensive.� I grunt, rubbing my temples.

Still, I like the idea of buying something properly the first time, especially when it comes to things that go boom. While this doesn�t give us the ability to directly engage the Sect members as they arrive, not only will we know where they�re coming from, we can dictate where we�ll fight them by limiting their options. Or if they choose to just go through the fields, the condition they�ll be in.

With that thought, I confirm the purchase of the Tier IV standard enchanted mine field, though I make a note to look into adding the Chaos field at a later time. I�ll admit, I�ve always found them quite fun.

�You just going to add a mine field and not tell anyone about it?� Ali says after I�ve made my purchase and the System starts teleporting in the mines.

�Shit�� I blink, waving. I exhale in relief when I realize that no one, luckily, is actually in the creation zone at this moment.

With a thought, I purchase a simple six-foot-high stone wall around the mine field on both sides. My fingers twitch for a second as I consider adding a series of big signs then decide against it. If you�re going to hop a six-foot-high wall, you kind of deserve what you get.

�Ladies, Sam, I just created a mine field outside the city and put a wall around it. Let people know, will you?�

�A minefield?� Lana says, her voice rising at the end. Silence comes down the line, along with some very measured breathing, before she speaks, her voice carefully controlled. �Fine. We�ll let people know. Let us know if you add anything else.�

�Thanks,� I say, relaxing a little.

Ali�s fingers are moving and, a moment later, a new notification window appears in front of my eyes, a small map attached to it.

City Wide Announcement

A new defensive measure has been added to the Town of Kamloops. There is now a mine field outside of town. To enter and exit the town, please use only designated entrance corridors.

�If you want, I can send that out too to everyone,� Ali says. �As the owner, you�ve got the ability to do so. There�re a few other things that you benefit from, including the ability to access and purchase System-generated Shop items without being at the City Core.�

�Huh. Like Roxley�s tax announcements?� I say, recalling the few times Roxley used that ability. �Do it.�

�Done,� Ali says. �So considering you just blew the entire town budget in oh, about an hour, can we get to the fun stuff?�

�Fun stuff?� I frown at Ali, and the little Spirit rolls his eyes.

�Yes. The loot!� Ali says and waves, dumping out the corpses of the Sect members we killed.

I blink, slowly recalling that I do get to loot their bodies. Somehow, it seemed so secondary to everything else. Still, the Spirit has a point and this could easily fall under commandment number two�Know Thy Enemy. And well, loot.

�Well, come on then,� I mutter and walk over to the first body, which in this case is Bimmox.

Unfortunately, unlike System-generated loot, looting bodies is a more grisly task, requiring me to strip the body. Unfortunately, everything that was in Bimmox�s System storage is lost, which means all that�s left is what�s here physically. Well, that and a portion of its Credits.

Omnitron V Portable Shielding Unit

The Ominitron Portable Shielding Unit is rated for zones 10-20s. This high-level utility shielding unit is an omni-directional shielding unit and suitable for non-Combatants.

HP: 250

Regeneration Rate: 50 per hour

Mana Battery: 100% Charge

Integrity: 87%

�Omni-directional?�

�Marketing speak for you can�t shoot through it,� Ali explains.

�Junk pile it is,� I say, dropping it into my System storage. Frankly, I�m surprised the damn bird had something this cheap and useless on him.

Osmaa Integrated Bio-Armor

Osmaa technologies weaves organic carbon-fiber tubes through their award-winning design, providing a class-breaking level of protection against multiple forms of attack.

Armor Rating: Tier III

Additional Resistances: +20% to Lightning, Thermal, Cold, Dark and Light Spells. +25% Resistance to Mental resistances

Integrity: 07%

�Damn,� I swear, running my finger over the bio-armor. Not much left of it unfortunately, and getting it fixed would cost more than buying one. Pity, but that�s what happens when you cut your opponent into pieces.

Unfortunately, there�s nothing else on Bimmox worth looking at�a wand it pulled out is shattered, never even brought into play. And most of its quick injection potions are broken or used. On the other hand, as I use the System to Loot the avian, I have to smile.

12,385 Credits Gained from Bimmox

I stare at the Credit notification. That�s actually very, very good. Obviously, most of their fortune has been taken by the System, but even the small portion I�ve been �gifted� by the System is more than I�d get for killing an equivalent level monster. If I hadn�t destroyed most of his gear, I might have made off even better. Almost makes the case for killing sentients rather than monsters. Even the XP bump is slightly higher, though just barely.

A small part of me is pointing out that I should feel something a little more than annoyed after killing a group of sentients. But it�s a very small part, and it�s mostly doing so in a dispassionate sort of way. Between the fact that I�m mostly emotionally retarded anyway and I�ve bathed in rivers of blood in the last year, killing, even killing sentient creatures, is just another damn day. In the end, I don�t have the emotional energy or the intellectual desire to care. They started it; I finished it.

�Tell me more about the Sect, will you?� I ask Ali as I pull out the discarded crossbow to inspect it. I�ll have to return it to Mikito since she killed its user, but no reason I can�t take a look.

Rudola Tier III Crossbow

When beam rifles do too little damage and projectile weaponry is too noisy, shop Rudola! The Rudola series of projectile weaponry is guaranteed to provide pointed satisfaction!

Base Damage: 15 + Ammunition Damage

Not my kind of thing.

I move over to the bodyguard�s body, stripping and inspecting each piece of equipment.

Punch Daggers

Created by an unknown artisan, these are personally forged punch daggers.

Base Damage: 75

Durability: 87/107

Special Abilities: +15 Piercing Damage

Nice. I add it to my stockpile of weaponry. Not sure what I�ll do with them since none of my friends use that style of fighting. Might make a good gift, especially since they�re personally forged. Maybe I could get an Enchanter to work on them later�

�The Thirteen Moon Sect isn�t a large organization, as I mentioned. They�re on about sixteen planets, spanning just over four solar systems. Within those, they have about seventy-three cities, towns, and settlements under their control, most grouped at the edges of other domains. They�re in conflict with at least twelve major, six minor, and a bunch of trivial powers, including two large Guilds,� Ali says, his eyes darting from side to side as he reads and summarizes the information he�s pulling from the System. �Current strength is just over ten thousand members with a dozen Master and two Legendary Class members. Officially.�

BioMarine Potion of Haste

All BioMarine potions are guaranteed mixed and produced to Galactic Standards. Don�t buy sewage, buy BioMarine!

Effect: Haste

Level: II

Duration: 5 Minutes

�What do you mean officially?� I say, raising an eyebrow at the piece of gear. Huh. Definitely a keeper.

�I�m pulling those numbers from the Galactic equivalent of their corporate website. So, you know, take everything with a grain of salt,� Ali says. �Probably reduce the number of total members and add to the number of higher Level members. No one wants to let everyone know the whole truth after all.�

Tam�s Boots of Titans

These enchanted boots of titans provide boosts to strength and speed, with additional self-cleaning and stitching enchantments layered. Produced by the Cobbler Tam.

Durability: 76/87

Armor Rating: Tier IV

Special Abilities: +11 Strength, +5 Agility, Self-cleaning

�Fair enough,� I say. Pity the boots are constructed for a creature with webbed feet and are about six sizes too wide across my toes. �Anything else?�

�Not much more. They�re the Galactic equivalent of official thugs�they deal with legal slaves, loan sharking, gambling, drugs, smuggling, and the like,� Ali says. �They take control of settlements next to other, more restrictive groups and set up shop and then rake in the Credits. They�re not well-liked, which is why they�re in so many conflicts.�

�Doesn�t seem like their thing to take over a town in a Dungeon World,� I say, frowning. Stripped of its gear, the body�s last piece of clothing dares me to go ahead.

Tervik Ballistic Underwear

Provides ballistic and minor beam protection. Trust only Tervik for the most important jobs!

Armor rating: Tier III

Durability: 63/63

I twitch my hand, dropping the underwear into my inventory to let Ali sell at our next Shopping trip. I blink, the sharp, angular spiky projection with the bulging purplish egg sacs next to it an education in alien biology that I could have done without. The body disappears into my Altered Space, joining its compatriot. Another note brings a slight smile to my face.

7,389 Credits Gained from Bodyguard No.1

�Edge cases. You guys were�are�slightly ahead of schedule. Killing the Envoy and ending up a Dungeon World put a kibosh on a whole lot of plans. Everyone�s scrambling, and the smaller and more nimble groups are the ones coming in first. The big boys� well, they�ll move in when they�re good and ready. That�s the thing about being the ten-ton juggernaut. When you move, nothing stops you,� Ali says.

�Then why would anyone move in at all?�

�Because it can be cheaper to buy someone out than fight. Then there are alliances and deals that can be made and hell, you might just get lucky and not get targeted,� Ali says and waggles his finger, showing me the next piece of good news.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 38 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 6 Free Attributes and 2 Class Skill Points to distribute.

�Okay.� I nod, standing and stretching out of habit. Allocating my attributes can wait. A small organization or not, the Thirteen Moon Sect is still larger than my party and me by orders of magnitude. It�s only because they�re so spread out that we even stand a chance. �Let�s find out how the others are doing.�

�On it, boy-o,� Ali says.

Before we exit the room, Ali spends a few seconds to fix the damaged wall, hiding the center once again. It won�t stop anyone who�s actually serious about getting in, but half the battle with security is making sure you don�t put the fifty-dollar note out for people to take.

Chapter 8

Finding Lana and Sam takes me only a few minutes. Mikito�s at the edges of the town, moving with a group of grey dots that denote neutrals. For now, at least. I�m guessing those are potential helpers, hunters, and others who Mikito�s running through their paces. Levels are easy to tell; combat experience is another thing entirely. Sure, if you�re a fighter Class of some form, most likely your Levels are from combat, but it still doesn�t mean you�re good at it. Ingrid, of course, is nowhere to be found, a ghost in the System as always.

Next to Lana and Sam is another pair: a tall, thin human with a black beard and hooked nose, and a masculine figure with a series of frills across the top of his head and a long hairstyle. I can�t help but think he�s a Klingon, though his entire temperament seems far from the famous TV character. Another case of Mana leakage? Or just a coincidence?

�John,� Sam greets me when I approach and scan the pair.

Torg Lavar (Farmer Level 37)

HP: 470/470

MP: 250/250

Conditions: Serf

Benjamin Asmundur (Architect Level 28)

HP: 210/210

MP: 470/470

Conditions: None

�Torg here is an import by the Sect and the farm overseer,� Lana says, gesturing to the man. He taps the side of his shoulder with two fingers in greeting as Lana speaks. �He�s been in charge of assigning tasks to the Farmers, Herbalists, and Gatherers for the various herbs and other crops they�re developing. Mel, who�s with Mikito right now, and his team kept an eye out for monsters while they worked. Anything gathered was sent off to the Sect for processing though, so we don�t have any high-Level Alchemists or Herbalists in town. The ones we have mostly produced things for internal use.

�Benjamin�s one of the few free humans in the settlement�an Architect. He was telling us how he managed that,� Lana finishes, gesturing to the human.

He smiles at me, eyes twinkling with good humor while he extends his hand. �Call me Ben.� It�s a firm, controlled shake, the kind that doesn�t try to overwhelm you with strength. �I�m an architect. When the System came, I was still at home with my family. I took the Class too, and well, I had�have�the Skill to devote my Mana to �purchasing� a building so I can reconstruct it. I did it for my apartment building and just kind of upgraded it.�

�You can buy buildings outright without the Shop?� I say, my eyes wide. That�s one hell of a gamebreaker in the early part of this year.

�Yes. It requires Mana and I�m still paying off the buildings I bought. Kind of like a loan from the System,� Ben says. �Really messes with my regeneration.�

�You should see it later, John,� Lana says, pointing into the distance with a slight smile. �It�s a damn fortress. It takes up a whole block.�

�Huh.� I rub my nose and kind of wonder why we never had anything like that in Whitehorse. Then again, the non-combatants had a tendency to die fast, so maybe we did and they were just another daisy-pusher. �How�d you keep the monsters out?�

�One of my Class Skills lets me create traps. I turned the first few floors into death traps and funneled them into my entrances. I set it up so that the traps only triggered for enemies, so my people could use the exits easily,� Ben explains. �When the assholes came, they figured it was easier to leave me and my people alone than dig us out. Since then, they�ve been trying to starve us out while levying one tax after another. We�re real happy you guys came.�

�Your people?� I say.

�His fortress is pretty impressive for a Level 28 Architect. There�s just over two hundred people in there, though most are non-combatants. He�s reinforced the walls and entrances and even has the occupants devoting a portion of their Mana regeneration to the building Mana pool. You�d have to blast the entire wall apart at one go and move fast, or else the building would fix itself around it.�

�Those under my protection,� Ben says, shifting to face me and angling his body slightly. I wonder if it�s a conscious decision or not, the way he�s giving me less of a target. With the amount of violence we�ve all seen, it�s sometimes hard to tell who is a fighter and who isn�t. �I gathered as many as I could.�

�Fair enough.� A nagging thought surfaces�a conversation with an acquaintance in college during one of the few parties I ever went to. Red cups and beer in a smoke-filled kitchen. �Architects have to do some city planning too, right?�

�We do,� Ben says, frowning.

�Good,� I say and leave it at that. We�ll worry about building up the town later, once we�ve survived the upcoming fight. On that note� �How are the fighters?�

�Pitiful,� Sam replies, shaking his head. �Beam weapons or modified gunpowder rifles. No one�s above Level 20. Average around the low teens mostly.�

I frown. I knew the zones around the city were low, but they�ve had a whole year to grow. There are higher-Level zones easily within reach, never mind potential Swarms. Though from what Ali has told me, Swarms were more common in Whitehorse due to our high Mana saturation. I guess it�s less of an issue here.

�They took the higher-Level hunters away,� Torg finally speaks up, ducking his head immediately after. He shifts under my regard, almost as if he�s embarrassed to be speaking.

I nod in understanding. No point in making your life more difficult by keeping potential threats around. Still, from the grimace that flashed across Ben�s face, it was probably not something that went down well.

�How about the defenses?� Lana asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.

�Not great. There�s the city shield, but it�s only Tier IV. I�ve got a mine field out there and a sensor array built out now, so we�ll have at least some warning. We could use the sentries, but two of them are damaged.� I look at Sam as I say that and he offers a nod in understanding. �We�ll probably have to deal with the attackers ourselves.�

�I�m assuming we�ll expect them soon?� Lana says, rubbing absently at her arm where a beam attack has scorched the material, turning the dark blue black.

�Yes. Most likely from Kelowna to start.�

�Think they�re that confident?� Lana says, waving her hand around. �We did just kick their ass.�

�Definitely,� Torg says.

�Indubitably,� Ali echoes at the same time. When Lana stares at the little Spirit, he explains. �Ingrid�s ability hid your true Levels and no one survived the attack in the office. Considering the Levels you showed, they probably assumed you launched a sneak attack on them. Without their main fighters, the guards you fought were killed off easily�but that�s easily explained by the PAVs and other equipment. Add on to the fact that the Sect is just that arrogant��

Torg nods at that.

�And they�ll be sure to strike back immediately,� Ali says. �Problem with ruling with strength is that you always have to be seen to be strong, you know?�

Lana nods slowly, looking toward the east for a second. After a moment more, she speaks up. �We going to take Kelowna then?�

�What?� I blurt, staring at her.

�In for a penny�� Lana meets my eyes. �If we�re going to free them, we might as well do it right. If they�re sending their fighters here, if we beat them, there won�t be much left in the other city.�

�I�� I pause, natural objections falling silent. The plan� well, there was no plan. I just intended to help where I could. However, conquering a few cities was never part of it. Still, Lana is right. If we�re going to do this�.

Sam stares at the two of us incredulously while Ben and Torg stay silent, their faces much more neutral. A glance at Ali has him giving me a thumbs-up, and I finally offer Lana a nod.

Lana looks quite satisfied, smiling like the cat that just got cream. �Now, let�s talk about what we�re going to do with the town after we�re done.�

I nod, content to let the lady lead the discussion. Between her experience on the General Council in Whitehorse and the information she�s managed to garner here, Lana�s got a much better idea than I do of what�s going on and what needs to be done.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Learning about the town kept Lana and me focused, and Ben and Torg pulled in various other notables to talk to us through the day. Sam wandered off in about fifteen minutes, helping to settle our refugees and spread the good word among the general populace. I also recall him muttering something about finding a suitable workshop, but I ignored that bit. Mikito continued to put the hunters, all but the few extra guards still watching over the farmers in the northeast, through their paces. And Ingrid�well, who knows where she was.

We did it all in the middle of the street, just standing there and talking to people, letting anyone and everyone who was interested listen in. And there were a lot. People streamed in and out of the crowd that gathered around us, listening, chatting, and pointing as they confirmed the news that the Sect had been kicked out. It took me a bit to realize that Lana had chosen the location on purpose, a not-so-subtle hint that things were changing. I admit, I approved, though I hoped no one expected us to do it all the time. Governance by committee made me roll my eyes.

Ben was, unsurprisingly, quite helpful. As the leader of the only independent group in the town, he knew nearly everyone. His presence by our side, talking congenially, probably helped allay a lot of fears. It was nearly as useful as his knowledge of the town�s resources.

Torg, on the other hand, contributed in a different, if no less useful, way by providing us examples of the way the Sect and other Galactics did things. Whether it was discussions on farming and gathering to zoning or Credit generation, he had ideas and examples from his time on other worlds. It seemed Torg had been bounced around a lot, always moving from settlement to settlement to help start up their latest farmland. The man had a knack for organizing individuals and problem-solving. It was unfortunate that he never actually got his hands dirty farming, keeping his Levels low.

My understanding of the town grew while I expanded my knowledge of the people around us. Late in the evening, when the others had begun to flag, the sensors pinged. I was a bit surprised, having expected them to come tomorrow. But I guess with the longer daylight hours of late spring, it didn�t matter.

�Incoming, boy-o,� Ali interrupts, flashing the map in front of Lana and myself. He taps something and text message notifications go out to the rest of the team.

From the map, I can tell that the group from Kelowna is coming in loud and brassy, not even bothering to hide their presence. Arrogant. Five dots, Levels popping up in short order. They�re headed straight in on the main road, which means they�ll miss the mines but will have to deal with the beam towers. If we let them get that close.

�Time to go,� I say, triggering Sabre to roll closer to me. I swing my foot over the bike even as Lana hops up on one of the puppies.

�Not sure I�m going to be much help here,� Sam�s voice cackles over the radio, and I have to agree. He�s better off where he is, fixing the sentries. Not being a frontline fighter, he�d be a liability if he came right now. While he�s done stellar work during the fights we�ve dragged him into, there�s no point in risking him when we don�t have to.

�Roger,� I say while Lana bids the group goodbye. I add my own belated and almost forgotten goodbye, the group splitting apart with worried expressions. Helmet on, I speak into the radio, giving rapid-fire orders. �Mikito, get the fighters up high. We�ll take them right outside the shield. Tell them to hold fire till we command it. Or we fall.�

I get an acknowledgement from the Samurai before her voice barks commands to others. I tune it out, glancing at Lana, who rides Howard next to me.

�You up for this?� I ask, my eyes roaming her form to assess her state.

Her armor has seen better days, and there�s a tightness to her shoulders I don�t like. But when she turns to me and flashes me a smile, it�s filled with confidence and I recall that this is the same woman who followed me into the Kluane Icefields without a word of complaint. A rush of hormones comes with that memory. That brazen courage even in the face of fear and anxiety was damn sexy. I make a mental note to find some time alone with her at some point. There�s always one thing or another in the way.

�I�ll be fine. You�re going to have to handle at least two of them. Maybe three. Are you up to this?� Lana says, violet eyes crinkling as she stares at me.

�I�ll be fine,� I say, patting my bike. �I�ve got Sabre.�

�You don�t look it,� she says, staring at my face. �You�ve got a weird look on your face.�

�Just disappointed, I guess.� At her cocked eyebrow, I go on. �I spent a lot of money and time planning out potential avenues of attack. Bought new sensor arrays and a minefield, figuring they�d try something smart. Instead, they walk right up to our front door.�

Lana stares at me for a second before snorting in amusement, a smile dancing along her lips. In minutes, Mikito falls in line on her bike, guiding it to flank me. Ingrid�s still gone, but that�s no surprise. She�ll pop up when she�s needed, probably with a blade in someone�s back.

As we pass the watchtowers, the shield shifts, opening long enough to let us out before we pull to a stop. Mikito doesn�t hesitate, transforming her PAV into mecha mode and walking to the side while the puppies spread out, flanking the road and crouching low in the green, uncut grass. Within seconds, Roland has disappeared, its form shifting as it uses an innate Skill to Stealth itself, leaving only Anna beside Lana. The redhead has her shotgun out and a portable shield array set before her feet, ready for trouble.

We don�t have to wait long, the Sect group arriving soon after. They disembark and walk toward us, leaving their hover transport behind. No surprise on that. Replacing vehicles is expensive and since few are actually made for extended combat amongst combat Classes, they break easily.

As they walk closer toward us, I scan the group. The first two are melee fighters. A Level 3 Advanced Class Bladesinger in brown fur wields a pair of swords in each hand, strutting forward on all four legs. Next to him, a sleek, green-scaled Advanced Level 27 Blood Warrior wields a rod and shield. Behind is a faceless Level 47 Elemental Mage in blocky armor and a rock-covered, seven-foot-tall Advanced Level 12 Rock Thrower. They�re guarding their Level 41 Stitcher.

�You can stop right there,� I call out when they�re about thirty feet away. Just in case, I check the Soul Shield I�ve added to Lana and the puppies.

�Nice of you to meet us out here,� the Blood Warrior says with a grin, his accent deep East Coast. A part of me tries to pin it down, certain I�ve heard it on TV somewhere. Idle thoughts. �Saves us the trouble of hunting you down.�

�Blah blah blah, random thug posturing.� I shake my head at the anger that crosses their body language. Tightened grips and shifts in positioning are universal, no matter what alien society you come from. �You have one chance to get out of this alive. Take your friends and leave BC now and return all the humans you�ve enslaved.�

There�s a long pause before a hissing, cackling, and grunting series of laughs erupts from the group.

Since they obviously aren�t going to take my generous offer, I follow up with the stick, launching all my high explosive mini-missiles and screaming, �Now!�

The sentry towers open up, lances of red fire striking even before my missiles. A second later, flames erupt from Anna�s body, a tightly wrapped beam of fire pulled from the creature�s aura. Lana opens fire with her shotgun as Mikito rushes the group, her Hasted body covering the ground within seconds.

The beams reach them first, fracturing ineffectively against an invisible shield. The beam turrets cut off after a second. The mini-missiles land next, creating rippling explosions that throw sand and dirt into the air and a pressure wave of force that hammers into us. A second later, the follow-up shots from the towers and the rest of the attacks land, the shield flickering under the assault.

It holds though, long enough for our enemies to take action themselves. Charging forward, the Bladesinger clashes with Mikito, his greater weight spinning her around as she blocks the strike. The pair blur, flashing across the ground perpendicular to us, their forms barely visible. A spell in the shape of a flaming bird rips through the air and slams into the beam towers, bypassing the settlement�s shield, which has dropped to allow the beam towers to fire. The other sentry tower goes down as the Rock Thrower, living up to its name, projects a series of car-sized stone spears.

�Hey. I�m going to have to fix those!� I snap as I open fire with the Inlin mounted on my arm.

The flashing projectiles get cut apart in mid-air by the Blood Warrior. The explosions of the projectiles around him seem to be doing nothing, and even when I shift my target, he�s always there, blocking my attacks.

The puppies move forward the moment their shield drops, but they never reach their prey, the shield popping up within seconds. They howl in anger, battering the invisible protection, but there�s nothing they can do. Behind the shield, their Elemental Mage wavs his hands around, Mana gathering for another spell. The Blood Warrior is outside the shield though, rushing toward us.

�Lana, yours,� I shout over the radio, trusting that she can hold the Blood Warrior.

With a slight mental exertion, I trigger Blink Step, teleporting through time and space into the shield. It�s a gamble, since there�s no guarantee this shield won�t bounce me off. I appear next to the Rock Thrower, the Inlin firing into his side even as I summon my sword into my other hand and cut upward. He�s fast and trained, throwing himself to the side and backward, my attack only managing to lop off part of his foot. Green blood spurts outward, coating Sabre even as the monster rolls away from me in trained reflex. Spikes erupt from the ground, shattering Sabre�s shielding and making it flicker and disappear.

Even as I spin to target the Stitcher, Ingrid makes her appearance finally. Her dagger erupts from his neck, the enchanted weapon, along with her Skills and the surprise attack, cutting through his health and armor. Still, the Stitcher falls to the ground, fingers waggling, and a glow surrounds him. Ingrid�s next attack slows down as it enters the white glow, giving the Stitcher time to twist and roll with the damage.

I don�t have time to pay any further attention since I�ve crossed the ground toward the Mage, weathering the sudden Lightning Bolt it throws at me, the arc of electricity jumping through the air and striking Ingrid and the Stitcher as well. I grunt, hair and teeth on edge, but the bleed through is low and nothing Sabre and I can�t handle. I butcher the Elemental Mage in seconds, even with his momentary teleport away from me. As I attack, spikes of rock slam into Sabre�s armor, but the harassing fire from the Rock Thrower isn�t enough to dissuade my attacks. Personally, I think the Rock Thrower made the wrong decision in focusing on me. As I yank my sword out of the Mage�s corpse, I�m grateful that Mages are so damn squishy.

A particularly large spike knocks me off my feet, alarms flashing as Sabre reports the increasing amount of damage the monster�s attacks are having on me. I roll and bounce back to my feet, ducking to the side as I assess the rest of the battlefield.

Mikito is racing back, the Bladesinger lying still behind her, her PAV scored with damage even through her ghostly armor. A quick review shows she�s down nearly half her health, which is surprising. Roland and Shadow are squaring off against the Blood Warrior and a second, blood covered clone. God damn it. I hate Skills, especially ones that we don�t have access to.

Anna and Howard are caught in blood tendrils, forced to twist and struggle while Lana hacks away with a machete in her left hand, her right hanging limp beside her. Ali floats next to her, keeping watch on the attackers, a small ball of lightning in his hand. It�s a surprising development, one that shows his willingness, if not ability, to do damage.

�Go. I�ve got these guys!� Ingrid snaps at me over the radio as she pulls her dagger out of the Stitcher�s side, which continues to bathe itself in white light.

With a twist of my hand, I toss an insta-cement grenade at the Rock Thrower, holding it in place and buying Ingrid time. Once the grenade has left my hand, I Blink Step toward the Blood Warrior. My attack is anticipated, a pair of tendrils spearing from the blood clone to strike at me the instant I appear. They knock my attack aside, my blades missing the Blood Warrior. With a shiver, the green-skinned humanoid rolls forward, leaving another blood clone to fight me as it engages Roland. I duck and weave as tendrils of blood that acts like acid erupt from the clone and fly through the air as I attempt to cut my way in close to the true body.

Roland howls in pain, the impact of the Blood Warrior�s club tossing the tiger away. Even as Roland spins away, its back feet lash out and claws rend wounds along the Blood Warrior�s shoulder, displaying grey bones beneath green flesh. Even then, the Blood Warrior twists, another clone appearing as he continues to bleed.

�No!� comes a loud, grating shout from behind us.

Then the explosion hits us all, dust and dirt obscuring our vision as we stumble and fall. Even System-enhanced Agility is insufficient to compensate for the force of the explosion. When the cloud finally clears, the Blood Warrior is gone and so is the Rock Thrower and the Stitcher.

�What happened?� I ask, standing and looking around. Sabre�s running diagnostics, nano-armor already fixing itself.

Ingrid limps toward us, quaffing healing potions. I watch as her broken fingers pop back into place, bloody wounds disappear, and her body straightens up as pain goes away. �Rocky triggered a Skill. Blew his body apart when I was about to finally kill that damn healer.�

Ali floats down. �He�s not dead, by the way. Just weakened. His race adds layers of rock and stone as they increase in Level. Blowing up layers of his body destroys his Levels. He must have sacrificed a ton��

�How did they escape?� I say, frowning. I get the explosion, but we were only knocked down for seconds. Even now, I can�t spot them in my minimap, which is disturbing. While I wouldn�t say we pulled out all the stops, we certainly weren�t holding back. Letting them get away after we�ve shown them a significant chunk of our abilities is not great.

�Localized teleport,� Ali says, grimacing. �Very, very expensive and requires them to have pre-purchased the option in the Shop.�

�Do we know where they went?� I say, letting my gaze track over my team. Between a bunch of health potions and the System�s healing, we�re mostly back to fighting shape, except for the pets. Lana�s feeding some of the most damaged pets health potions, though their enhanced healing is already seeing gaping wounds slowly close.

�No idea, boy-o,� Ali says with a shrug.

I curse silently, discarding the idea of attacking Kelowna now. There�s no way they completely emptied the city of high-level characters just for an assault on us. Add in their local guards and fixed defenses and I�m not looking forward to a direct attack. There�s also no guarantee they don�t have another of those localized teleports saved up, though I�d be surprised if they did. Unfortunately, even I�m not so irresponsible that I�d gamble with the lives of others.

�We�re not going to Kelowna, are we?� Ingrid says, glancing down the road, and I shake my head. �Right then, drinks it is!�

Ingrid flashes me a smile, and I make myself return it. She�s right. We might not have wiped them out, but we weathered the first attack. A success is a success.

Chapter 9

Later that evening�or was it technically morning by now?�we�re mostly alone, seated around heaping plates of food and beer. Even the curious and interested long ago gave up on overhearing anything interesting. Truth be told, after giving everyone who asked brief assurances, we had little more to say. Thankfully, unlike a �real� town, there was little enough in terms of paperwork that I needed to handle�at least, right away. That allowed me and the team to settle down for a few hours.

�But if I upgrade the Ghost Armor again, I�ll add nearly 50% to its hit points,� Mikito says to Lana and Ali, waving a fork to punctuate her point.

�And move away from your main advantages,� Ali stresses. �You�re fast and you hit hard. Better for you to focus on what you�re good at. You�ve got a decent amount of hit points anyway, and can dodge everything else if you pick up Enhanced Reflexes.�

�Except if they use an area effect spell. Can�t dodge those,� Lana points out, shaking her head. �I�m with Mikito. She�s plenty fast as it stands. More defense is a good thing. I�m thinking I should get something too.�

�Feeling a little vulnerable out there?� Ali says with a glance toward her arm.

�Just a little. The boys are great at keeping most people busy, but if Hondo or someone like Ingrid came along��

�I wouldn�t stab you in the back, Lana. We�re friends. I�d look you in the eyes as I did it,� Ingrid says with a smile, making all of us roll our eyes.

Sam watches our banter, mostly silent, before he taps the table to get our attention. The seriousness on his face colors his next question. �So what now? Are you going to try to attack Kelowna next?�

�Missed our chance,� I say, shaking my head. �If we�d wiped them out, I�d be willing to risk it. Now, there�s no guarantee they won�t hit us when we leave. Better to stay and consolidate our strength here.�

�About that�� Sam says, grimacing and looking around. �You guys. Well, you�re tough. But there�s a lot of concern about what happens if they send more. If you fall��

�The city doesn�t have much in terms of defense,� I finish for him and sigh.

Sam�s not wrong. The problem is, I�m not entirely sure what we can do about it. Setting up a training program like we did in Whitehorse will benefit the combat Classers, but it takes time. Bumping up Levels by grinding monsters is easy�there�s even a convenient dungeon to run. But real combat experience requires time. Time to make mistakes. Time to repeat those mistakes and learn from them. Until then, we need more than just a couple of easily destroyed sentry towers.

�For that matter, are we staying?� Ingrid says, staring around the table. �I don�t recall there being a discussion before we started all this.�

�Didn�t mind sticking your knife in earlier,� Lana says.

�I�m not saying we should leave. But we�re discussing sitting still and being a target while our enemies gather their forces. Not smart,� Ingrid replies, letting her eyes roam over the group as if she�s testing everyone.

�You suggesting we run?� Lana says softly.

�No. I�m making sure we�re all in,� Ingrid replies.

I cut in, waving in apology. �You�re right. We didn�t discuss this. I�m sorry, I should have��

I stop because Mikito is smiling and Lana�s laughing softly. Even Ingrid snorts slightly, shaking her head after a moment.

Sam looks between the three before he finally asks, �What?�

�John�s being cute. And idiotic again,� Lana says with a chuckle.

�Baka.� Mikito nods firmly. �We knew you were going to do it.�

�I didn�t,� Ingrid says. �But I should have.�

�What?� I exclaim.

�Boy-o, you�re a bit predictable,� Ali says.

�Oh, come on!�

�You�re very predictable, Redeemer of the Dead,� Ingrid says, naming one of my titles. I twitch, ducking my head slightly, and she smiles again. �As I said, I should have realized it the moment we saw the Serfs. You weren�t ever going to leave this alone. You�re just not good at doing the smart thing.�

�Welcome to Team John,� Lana says, raising her mostly empty pint in mocking salute. �We don�t do the smart thing. Or the right thing. Just the necessary.�

�You�re okay with this?� Ingrid says then shakes her head, chiding herself for wasting words. �Never mind. Of course you are. Mikito, Sam?�

�Where John goes, I go,� Mikito says simply.

Sam pauses, his face obviously conflicted before he finally huffs. �My family is in Vancouver. Where the Sect is. I�d rather go there in force than try to beg my way in.�

Ingrid stares at the group of us before she throws her hands up dramatically. �Gods! How did I end up with a bunch of heroes?�

�Your asshole team got killed,� Ali says bluntly.

Ingrid freezes, all levity drained from her face. For a moment, we can all feel it, the killing intent that rises at Ali�s crass words before Ingrid takes control of herself, dampening it. She stands silently and walks out. It�s only when she�s gone that we dare take our eyes off her.

�Not cool, man,� I say, smacking the Spirit. Of course, my hand goes through him, but it�s the thought that counts.

�That was very much uncalled for,� Lana says. �I�m disappointed in you, Ali.�

�Whatever,� Ali says, though he hunches his shoulders a bit under our combined disapproval. �She�s been bitching about being with us for months now. She was literally telling John to stay a short while ago. It�s time for her to choose her Class or let the System do it.�

I frown slightly at his non-sequitur then realize it�s the Spirit equivalent of shit or get off the pot.

After the silence stretches on for too long, Sam clears his throat, drawing attention back to himself and our original question. �So we�re staying. And you�re the boss of this town. What do you plan to do?�

�Funny you should ask�� I say, leaning forward and taking the change in topic. Rather than join most of the conversations this evening, I�ve been thinking. Planning. Time to get to work.

The next morning, the team splits up to tackle their respective tasks. Sam�s on crafter duty, working with the various crafters to upgrade their talents. His main focus is on the Mechanics in the hope that we can upgrade them enough to build some better defenses and offensive weaponry. Mikito�s still on combat duty, continuing her initial work with the combat Classers yesterday. Lana�s working with Torg and his crew of resource gatherers to account for and divert what they have to the respective Classes in town and the Shop. For once, everyone�s going to get paid.

Lana�s job is probably the most important in the group since I�ve managed to drain the funds for the entire town. Without additional Credits, we can�t upgrade the Town�not without physically upgrading the buildings and roads. At least, I don�t think so. But assumptions just make an ass of u and me, so that�s why I�m seated in the control room with Ali this morning.

�This is a bit ridiculous. It all came in overnight?� I say, staring at the hundreds of open System windows. The vast majority are messages�requests, demands, complaints, suggestions, and even a few threats. They range from issues about education for children to real estate queries, pleas for help with regard to those taken and even noise complaints. Noise complaints!

�Overnight and they keep coming in. The joy of being the owner of a settlement,� Ali says.

�Never knew you could do this. How come I never got Roxley�s message box?� I say, staring at the growing number of windows as Ali populates them one behind the other.

�You just walked in when you wanted to talk to him,� Ali says.

Oh, right. I guess I never did consider there might be other ways of reporting to him. �This only for the owner? Or can we create a system like this for everyone?�

�Anything�s possible. But we don�t have the Credits. I do have a recommendation though.� Ali�s hand twitches.

K�myn Artificial Intelligence Tier III

This specialised AI is designed to take on the administrative processes of new and developing settlements including the legal and bureaucratic processes of the Galactic Council.

Cost: 145,000 Credits

�An AI?� I frown, staring at the information, then tilt my head to the side as I stare at Ali. �Can�t you do this?�

�I�m a Spirit. I deal with magic and spells and the System. I don�t do bureaucratic paperwork. Not unless you want an audit,� Ali says, shaking his head. �Buy it. We can tie it to the town for now so you don�t have to use any processing power in your Neurolink if you�re that worried.�

�What�s the difference in Tiers for an AI anyway? I get guns, but AIs?�

�Sophistication, processing power, and restrictions. Higher tiers have fewer restrictions, better coding, and the ability to utilize more resources. Most are restricted to some extent by what you download them into, which is why I recommend tying it to the town,� Ali said. �In this case, we�re also buying a bunch of knowledge packs so it can hit the ground running.�

�Doesn�t Lana have one?� I say after a moment, recalling that Ali once recommended she purchase an AI.

�She does, but hers is Tier V and geared toward private businesses. The knowledge base is entirely different. You�re going to need her help later if you want this town to run properly, but for now, you need this.�

I pause, staring at the Credits cost. Ever since leaving Whitehorse, Credits have been harder to acquire. Not as many high-level monsters to fight and longer gaps between visiting a Shop meant lower revenue. If I bought it, I�d have just over forty thousand Credits left. Not much at all when you consider a single Class Skill could cost sixty plus. But� needs must.

The moment I make the decision, the System flickers. A moment later, the windows before me shrink and disappear, replaced by another, larger window. Text appears on the window in blocky letters.

�GOOD MORNING, SIR. I AM KIM, YOUR SETTLEMENT ADMINISTRATIVE ASSISTANT. I HAVE TAKEN THE LIBERTY OF SORTING ALL INCOMING MAIL. IF YOU WISH, I WILL REPLY TO ALL TRIVIAL AND MINOR ISSUES WITH STOCK RESPONSES. ALL OTHER ISSUES WILL RECEIVE A RESPONSE REQUESTING PATIENCE UNTIL FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS AND GOALS HAVE BEEN RECEIVED,� the text reads.

�Yeah, that�ll work. Kim,� I say, blinking slightly. An AI named Kim. I can see where he (it?) got its name from, but does that mean every AI purchased from that company calls itself Kim? Or is it just a matter of luck in my case? I shake my head, pushing the thought aside to focus on something more important. �All right, let�s get to work. Process the information on the town. We�ll discuss the parameters of what we need to set later. Let�s talk defenses first though. Those towers went down fast. What can we do?�

�Buy better towers?� Ali says with a shrug.

�They were Tier IV!� I said, frowning.

�Exactly. They�ll handle most monsters up to Level 20. Monsters,� Ali says, shaking his head. �Sentients fight differently from monsters. You know that.�

That was too true. Sentients of the same Level were generally more dangerous than monsters. If that wasn�t the case, it would be impossible for a Level 1 sentient to kill a Level 1 monster. The number varied of course, depending on Class, Skill, and skill, but it was generally taken as a force multiplier of between one and a half to two. So a Level 1 sentient could likely fight up to a Level 2 monster on equal terms, not including equipment. Which meant our defense towers could really only handle Level 15 or so fighters.

�Still, they got destroyed so fast,� I say, grumbling slightly.

�Did you notice the Rock Thrower and Mage were a lot less active afterward? They used some of their best Skills and Mana to one-shot those towers,� Ali says.

�COST OF TIER III BEAM SENTRY TOWERS CURRENTLY GREATER THAN CREDIT RESOURCES.�

�No Gremlin poo. Now, be quiet till you�re called on,� Ali says. �Automated defenses are fine for monsters, but they�re all supplementary, boy-o.�

I nod and wave the Spirit silent, leaning backward into the chair. I swing it back and forth as I think through what I know. The System pushes people, Classes to higher Levels. External items, equipment, tech is all replaceable, but none of it is anywhere as important as the individual. Mostly. There are exceptions�Linked weapons like Mikito�s naginata, my Soulbound sword�can grow. But otherwise, at some point, external equipment has to be discarded. In the end, it�s people that matter. That explains why Roxley focused mostly on walls and shields, leaving the security of the city to his guards. Easier to scale, especially with monster swarms constantly popping up. Unfortunately, I don�t have his house guards to bolster our low-Leveled forces.

Roxley� I huff out a breath, thinking of the swarthy, tall Dark Elf. Damn but I could use his advice right about now. However, the way we left it, I�m not sure asking him would be the best idea. His decision to join the Duchess, after all we did, did not sit well with me. No. Roxley isn�t an option. But that doesn�t mean that some of the others I�ve met might not be of help.

�Ali, let�s get some messages out to some friends,� I say, looking at the Spirit. �And after that, I guess Kim and you should start briefing me about the city properly. Can�t rule it if I don�t understand it, and we might be in for the long haul.�

Hours later, my head�s pounding from all the information fed to me. I wasn�t a business major or a politician or bureaucrat. But somehow, I was supposed to understand all of these things while running the city.

In some cases, the System simplified what would have been significantly more complicated before its introduction. For example, transactions held by the Shop and transactions done by transferring Credits in the System were all tracked automatically. That made taxation simple, as I could tax individual sales and purchases within the town between Classers with a single adjustment in the core. Of course, then you ended up in the long, long discussion about consumption taxes versus income taxes versus� well, whatever. You get the picture.

Right now, Kamloops is mostly a resource economy. Funds are generated from the farms or Gatherers and Hunters selling their loot. Of course, being a Dungeon World, the sheer amount of Mana in the surroundings speeds up growth and increases monster Levels in comparison to other worlds, so being a resource town isn�t a bad thing. However, as most undeveloped countries know, the real money isn�t in selling your resources�it�s in production and development. Turning those resources into Credits. In our case, that�s what Lana and Sam are tasked with jumpstarting. Until then, I have to deal with taking a hit on revenue as we divert sellable material to in-town crafters to Level them up.

Furthermore, that means we have a lot of small transactions happening in the Shop as resource items are sold. The easiest way to generate more revenue would be to charge the tax rate when individuals sell, creating a basic income tax. It might miss a few outliers, but for the vast majority, that�d work.

In Whitehorse, Roxley instituted a flat percentage charge on all transactions in the Shop, which actually impacted production Classes more than anyone else, due to their need to purchase additional products for their needs. That sounds bad at first glance, but it does mean that people are more likely to look into ways of building or developing technologies and secondary resource items in-town rather than purchasing them through the Shop. Which, I�m beginning to understand, is likely what Roxley intended.

The world�s complicated, and only the foolish, ignorant, or those with an agenda would ever say otherwise. There are no simple answers to any of these problems, and even when I pop out to the Shop to get myself a quick, downloaded education, it�s not enough. Because sometimes, the question isn�t what�s best but what you�re trying to do.

Right now, what we need is income and fast. I can�t afford to spend too much time on the long game, which is why I end up keeping a flat five percent tax rate on all transactions in the city. I even extended it to transactions between citizens in the town, ensuring the town gets their fair share. Of course, this was a reduction in the Shop tax rate from the initial twenty percent, so hopefully there aren�t too many complaints. Even though we desperately need funds, I have to think long-term as well, and that means helping the city grow.

Next on our agenda was figuring out expenses. This was much simpler, since most items in the city were linked and run by the System. Of course, you could have the System auto-regenerate and fix all registered buildings and facilities, but one thing I�d realized after reading through the more in-depth menu was that this actually took Mana. Or more specifically, Mana regeneration. Across the city, Mana production and regeneration was actually tied to the amount of space a town controlled. So while Kamloops had managed to establish and even develop a higher percentage of System-integrated buildings, it actually produced less Mana than Whitehorse because of its smaller square footage. Not to mention it was situated at a lower level zone.

Interestingly enough, buildings and the town itself seemed to generate less Mana than I�d expected. Compared to the Mana regeneration of an individual, it was paltry. It was only at this level, where I was looking at the Mana generation of a whole town, that it started showing up at all. With Kim�s help, I could turn off the default allocation of Mana for individual buildings, letting me store up more. For now though, I left it alone since I had no idea what we needed it for.

Outside of Mana expenses, there were Credit expenses. Since we didn�t have to pay for maintenance for the most part�outside of simpler services like cleaning for non-System-upgraded buildings�payroll was the major ongoing expense I could expect. In this case, I actually didn�t have any since I hadn�t hired anyone and everyone previously hired was either a Serf�now freed and let go�or a Sect member who had fled. On the other hand, that meant I�d have to hire again soon. I mentally sacrifice Lana to this task with a smile before finishing the sparse file.

�What�s next?� I say.

�ALLOCATION OF ASSETS.�

I grunt, staring at the dire blue words before nodding. Kim flashes up the list of buildings I currently own after kicking out the Sect.

Commercial: 4 (City Center, Armory, 2 x Workshop)

Residential: 178 Individual Residences, 24 Apartment Buildings

Industrial: 7 Farmland, 3 Alchemical Laboratories

Military: 14 Sentry Towers, 1 Shield Generator, External Minefield, Bionetwork Sensor Grid

There used to be one more line here�one for Serfs�but now it�s gone. Obviously I�d dismissed all the Serfs and their debts, at least as far as it concerned me. If the Sect caught them within the next month, they�d revert to being Serfs, but after that, they�d be fine. It was, surprisingly, a decent Galactic law and said some interesting things about politics at the Galactic level.

Scanning over the list, I looked to see if any of these buildings had been forcibly taken by the Sect, �purchased,� or taken as �collateral� for loans that would eventually force their owners into debt. There were a few, very few, lucky individuals who weren�t Serfs but whom I now owned their property because the initial loan was to the Sect. Since the property was registered to the town ownership, I actually owned it, but a few quick swipes transferred ownership back to them. This way, at least they owned the property they�d been paying the mortgage for.

The question now, and it was relatively urgent to answer, was what to do with the buildings that had been taken or had been owned by others before the System. In the second case, I was leaning toward saying �tough.� The world had changed�all old property ties were gone, at least in my view. However, memories of a grenade, a shop, and undying anger came to mind. Whatever my personal feelings on the matter, it was also true that we couldn�t afford internal strife�especially the violent kind�while the Sect was still a threat.

The smart thing to do is to leave things as they are, perhaps reducing the rent charged. Currently, the rent charged on each of the apartments and buildings is outrageous, specifically geared toward keeping Serfs and other lendees in perpetual poverty. For obvious reasons, I have no desire to do that, but at the same time, the rent is a major revenue source. One alteration I can make is to charge a daily rental fee rather than a monthly one, with the provision that individuals can pay in advance. That would give us more regular income rather than sudden surges. I hope.

Of course, it isn�t exactly fair. Or nice. Or right. But�

I sigh, staring at Ali. �This� did they all have to make decisions like this?�

�All?�

�Roxley. The city, the general, council. Rulers.�

�Yes. If you think this is bad, wait till you see what bit boy has up next for you.�

�Kim?�

�KAMLOOPS REQUIRES SOLIDICATION OF ITS RULE OF LAW.�

�Shoot me now,� I say with resolution.

Having spent enough time with Angela, the ex-RCMP member in Whitehorse, I know how complicated the entire matter is. It isn�t as simple as taking our old laws and adding them back to our lives. For one thing, were we willing to set up the full court of laws with judges, juries, and lawyers? Why? A simple purchase from the System could verify the truth of a matter. Never mind the fact that certain Classes have Skills that can divine the truth even without using the System Shop. But if we came to rely on a single individual, did we then create a single point of failure�of corruption?

Property crime was less of an issue, though theft of items continued to be a concern. Of course, it only cost a little additional to �register� items with the System, though few Adventurers bothered. After all, with the increasing Levels, what equipment was useful now might be outdated within a few months. Why bother spending the money then? As such, item theft could be considered a �minor� crime these days, since anything truly expensive would be registered, making it much more difficult to sell the item.

Then you had violent crimes, which needed to be redefined. Since nearly everything outside of actual death was temporary, breaking someone�s nose or arm or ribs was a lot less dangerous than before. It was nearly impossible to kill someone by accident these days. Of course, you didn�t want to encourage violence either�after all, if you did, combat Classers would trample production Classers. And while that might make certain juvenile individuals revel in their �strength,� it did nothing for the community. After all, if all your goods could be exhorted out of you, why would you put in any effort?

I sigh, staring at the information, and get down to it. Luckily, since this is directly related to the town, I can use the town�s Credits to purchase information from the System, giving me detailed laws from other settlements that we could base ours off. In the end though, what I want is something simple and easy. I�ll leave it to the professionals to develop the complicated bits. My laws basically ran down to�don�t be a dick. If you are, don�t expect us to back you up.

As for the buildings, I figure I�ll lower the rent and leave them in my care for now. Procrastination might not be a good thing, but it does mean I don�t have to deal with the problem right this second.

Ingrid never makes it back that night. That�s okay. What I have planned for her is better said alone. When I finally find her, she�s seated in an abandoned office building, nursing a bottle of alcohol in the remnants of a window overlooking the city. I sit next to her, fishing a bottle of whisky from storage to join her in a bout of silent drinking.

�Not going to bitch me out?� Ingrid asks eventually, noting the lack of blunt Spirit next to me.

�No.� I shrug and sip on the drink. �Always been your call on what you want to do.�

�Is not wanting to play hero that wrong?� Ingrid says testily. �What have these people ever done for me? Or you?�

�Why the change of heart?�

�Amazing, the things you overhear when no one notices,� Ingrid says cryptically.

I wait for the teenager to add more. While we sit in silence, I take a moment to regard the First Nation woman and the bitterness that creeps across her face. I wonder what she overheard, what careless words were uttered. God knows, being a lipreader means that I�ve picked up more than one casual insult spoken when they thought I wouldn�t notice. The people here, they�re the same ones who were content to live in their own little bubbles and declare that they were �good� or �right� because they never did anything actively wrong pre-System. Just content to let the evils of the world happen because they weren�t actively taking part in it. I doubt much of that has changed and so, I understood her feelings.

�But it�s not enough,� I whisper to myself and smile crookedly when she shoots me a puzzled look. �I don�t care what they did or didn�t do. Or if it�s right or wrong to give them back a little of their own medicine. Because I�m not looking to be them. It�s easy to be just about good enough, to be mediocre and normal.

�The world ended, Ingrid. We had a damn apocalypse. If there�s ever been a good reason to change, I figure that�s it. I won�t, I can�t go back to just getting by, doing just enough to live. I tried that once, and all I did was mark off the days till I died. Now we�re here and I�m still alive and everyone and everything we knew is dead. So yeah, I�ll play at being a hero and doing the right thing, because I�ve tried the other way.�

�Not everyone.� Ingrid�s lips twist slightly, and she tilts her head as she speaks. �You could play at being a villain.�

�Meh. Villains are boring.� I say mockingly, �Oooh, look at me. I�m bad. I�m evil. Watch me stomp on a baby�s head because that�s so edgy.�

Ingrid snorts at my words and the false face I put on.

�So you in?�

She takes a swig from her bottle, making a face. �Whatever. I don�t have anything better right now. But I�m not wearing tights.�

�How about some leather?� I waggle my eyebrows and wince as she punches my arm, chuckling slightly. �But seriously, we need your skills. They�re going to be sending people at us, and we�re going to need as much information as we can get.�

�You want me to spy on them?� Ingrid says flatly, and I nod. �Why don�t you just buy the information?�

�I have some basics. The rest was too expensive. Spread around North America are four high-level Advanced Classes, fourteen mid-level Advanced Classes, seven low-level Advanced Classes, and just over two hundred Basic Class Sect members. Most of them are locked in combat around Seattle at the moment. The ones in BC are their holding force, the people in charge of keeping things running,� I say, explaining things simply to her.

�For all that, the System can�t tell the future, so figuring out what they�re going to do isn�t something it can tell us. Guesses, probabilities, sure. But if you sneak in, look around, maybe ask a few questions�� I shrug. �Maybe you can figure it out. And either way, we�re going to have to take those cities later. It�d get pretty expensive if I just kept buying information. That bit of information already cost us two hundred thousand Credits.�

�Really? You took one city and now you�re looking at more? Getting a bit of a big head, are you?�

�Might as well do it right.�

Ingrid laughs softly, tipping her bottle upward and draining it before she nods. �I�ll play spy for you. Until I get bored. Or get a better offer.� She snags my bottle and leans forward, flipping off the ledge into the darkness below.

�My bottle!� I grumble softly, her dot disappearing from my map. That went better than expected.

Chapter 10

Breakfast. The most important meal of the day. Whether or not it matters for our altered bodies, it certainly helps as a ritualized meeting place for the team. Today, it�s Sam�s turn to cook, which means we have gruel, gruel, and bacon. At least there�s enough.

�Ingrid�s not here,� Mikito says, dumping some chopped ginger into her gruel.

�I spoke with her last night. She�s scouting,� I say unconcernedly. No point hiding this information from my team. It isn�t even too much a concern about need-to-know issues since anyone who really wants this information can buy it from the Shop. Though I am curious how Ingrid�s Skills affect that option. Something to ask Ali about later.

�Huh,� Ali says. �Figured she�d have left.�

�No thanks to you,� Lana says, waving a finger at Ali.

Once the Spirit ducks his head, Lana takes the time to update us on her progress yesterday. The others follow suit, including me. I even take a moment to introduce Kim, who is extremely reluctant to even say hi. Everyone takes the introduction of the AI with aplomb�just another post-System moment.

�Sounds like most of you have things well in hand,� I say as we stare at the empty pot. Bland as gruel might be, it was still decent fuel for the day. �Mikito, if you�ve got teams that are workable, let�s get them headed north to the dungeon. Get your best team on clearing it. If it manages to replicate, we�ll send another team in till the Mana pool is cleared. We�ll also want scouting teams moving to the communities. I know the Sect might have swept the place before, but now that they�re out of power, we might be able to convince them to join us. Lana, I�ve got the basics up and running, but I want you to keep an eye out for talent. Someone�s going to have to run the city, preferably someones.�

�Benjamin?� Lana says with a raised eyebrow.

I raise my hand horizontally and waggle it. �Let�s not rush this.�

�I�ll look around. But what are you going to do?�

�The city needs money and I need more Levels,� I say, grimacing. �If I could hit Level 40�� I shake my head and push aside my regret. �There�s a National Park close by, so the zone should be decent. Might even have a dungeon or two.�

�Har. So you�ve got us all working and you�re off having fun,� Sam says, waving the last stick of crispy bacon.

�Well, yes.� I could explain how growing my strength means growing the strength of the city and our team, of how I can hunt, fight, and capture faster than anyone here, bringing in a significant amount of Credits. I could even note that I spent the entire day yesterday stuck doing paperwork, but really, I know he�s mostly teasing me.

�Leave your drones, will you?� Sam follows up. �I want to study them.�

�And John, can you have Kim stay in the city? She can be useful to me,� Lana says. �If you�re willing to let me work with her on assigning tasks.�

�It�s an it,� Ali corrects before I can reply.

�THE SENTIENT FORCE IS CORRECT. SURPRISINGLY.�

�Enough, you two,� I growl softly. �Kim, can you download yourself into the settlement�s ummm� core?�

�YES.�

�Good. Do that and follow Lana�s orders,� I say, settling that quickly.

Seeing that no one else has anything else to add, I stand. Time to get rid of some stress and get some experience.

Traveling to the national park wasn�t hard at all. It was barely fifty kilometers from the town itself. Of course, it�s on the other side of the river, which gives the town some protection, but it still isn�t much if the monsters decide to go a-roaming. While most monsters don�t, finding the higher Mana forests more comfortable, it still isn�t a lot of protection. That�s part of the reason why I was swinging by, to make my own evaluation of how dangerous it is. If there�s an Alpha monster or a dungeon in here, it definitely needs taking care of.

�Is taking over the town�s core the only way to win a city?� I ask Ali as I wander through the forest. I don�t bother with the trails since I�m looking for monsters, tossing a spell or two when needed and letting the Spirit dump the body in my Altered Space.

�Nope. Easiest way, but there are others. Kill the guy who owns the place, and if they don�t have a designated heir, it reverts to the killer or whoever is in the town, depending on circumstances. Only works on places that are individually owned. You can also buy up eighty percent of the land in a town. If that happens, the town automatically reverts control to you because you literally own most of it. Of course, if you drop below the eighty percent and gained it that way, you lose control too. Not common these days of course,� Ali says.

�Of course.� I sigh, calling for a Blade Strike, and cut down an overly affectionate mutant-pine tree. There�s something wrong with the concept of carnivorous trees. Especially ones with pink fuzz rather than leaves. �Any reason they can�t just sneak someone in and put their hands on the core to steal the place from us?�

�They could. Been done before, but mostly for places that have better defenses to turn on the original defenders. As it stands, the System notification will alert everyone, so it�s not like they�ll gain much. Kamloops�s defenses would go down in a heartbeat. Doesn�t gain them much and loses them some useful people,� Ali says. �It�s one thing to steal a city, another to keep it. As you�re finding out.�

�Still�� I frown, glancing backward.

�Not their style, boy-o,� Ali reassures me. �And Kim will slow down the changeover long enough for your people to get a-killing. Relax.�

I grunt, accepting his words for now. Still, it may be time to set up some additional security when I get back, something Ben could help with. Be a good test for him too, see if he�s worth working with.

�You figure they�re just going to launch a full-scale attack then?� I say, going back to the original line of questioning. I adjust my saunter through the forest slightly, heading for a few green dots. Better than nothing.

�If you mean a few of their teams, yeah. Might hire some additional help too,� Ali says. �The Sect leans toward the quality-over-quantity approach to fights.�

�Like the Guard.�

�Actually, more like the Dragon Knights. The Erethran armed forces actually leans the other way. Not to say they aren�t tough, but they use a lot of tech at the lower levels, which lets them field a larger force than others. More expensive, but makes them nasty to fight,� Ali says.

�I�ve been wondering about that. My Class is only an Advanced one. Seems a bit low for bodyguards of royalty,� I say.

�Are you concerned about the rarity or the strength?� Ali says, asking for clarification.

�Uhhh�� I take a few moments to finish off the bounding metallic wolf-like creatures attacking me. They might even be wolves. I don�t bother checking. �Both, I guess.�

�To get your Class the normal way, you would need to be assigned to the Honor Guard to start and be at Level 50. Obviously, even if you are Level 50 and refusing to progress, you aren�t necessarily going to get to join the Honor Guard. A lot of people would rather keep progressing than wait around,� Ali explains, dumping the bodies away for me while we head toward the next group of monsters. �As for their strength, I think you�re missing the point. They�re the Guard, the people you have to fight through to get close to the Erethran royal family. You�re not facing one or two or a dozen of them but hundreds. And if you manage to survive all that, well, then you�ll be up against their Champions.�

�Champions?� I frown, tilting my head to the side. �That the Master Class?�

�One of the possibilities. There�s generally only one or two next to the royals�the royals are pretty damn tough themselves. But it�s one way to go,� Ali says, shrugging. �More independent, better individual fighters. Of course, you need to be granted the title and well��

�I�m not likely to.� I sigh. Right. It�s why I�m not as thrilled by the idea of hitting Level 50 as others might be. Whatever options the System might offer me, it�s probably not going to be what I want. Not as if there are members of the Erethran Royal Family around to grant me a title of Champion. Lack of opportunity sucks. �Whatever. Future John can deal with that problem.�

I grunt, picking up speed as my mind turns once more to the initial question that drove me out here. How do we deal with the Sect? I turn over, again and again, the options offered by Ali.

�We should be drowning them in numbers, shouldn�t we?� I finally say, coming to a halt in a clearing and staring at the sunlight that streams in. I touch my helmet, letting it retract, and let the warmth cover my face as I struggle with the knowledge. �We should arm everyone, get them up on the walls for when they hit us. Drown them in fire and numbers, whittle down their best fighters�� Deal with their quality with our quantity.

�That�d be a good idea.�

�And kill a lot of people,� I whisper, my eyes burning with unshed tears. Anger and pain, mixing on this beautiful day.

�It�s their fight too,� Ali quietly points out.

�I know.�

My mind spins, possibilities opening up. Put the people whose lives are at stake, whose freedom is in play, on the walls to fight. To live and die by their own hand. Help them, sure. But let them sacrifice too.

It�s the smart thing to do.

The right thing to do.

I just have to be willing to let others die.

Later that evening, Lana finds me seated in the same spot where I found Ingrid. Watching the city, drinking from a bottle, mulling over my options.

�Missed you at dinner,� Lana says, plopping down next to me.

In the corner, I�m somewhat startled to note, is Roland, the tiger almost completely hidden except for a pair of glowing eyes. I make a mental note to watch out for the kitty. Its ability to hide is almost as good as Ingrid�s.

�Yeah, sorry. Doing some thinking. How�d the day go?� I say, offering her the bottle.

She takes it and swigs from the bottle before handing it back to me. �Pretty good. Kim was helpful in allocating resources and getting people working, including cleaning up some new buildings. Ben is working on reinforcing some of the thoroughfares as well, and adding a few traps. Can�t do much fast since he doesn�t own the buildings, but his Skills do give us options. He�s talking of creating a �fortress city,� with buildings reinforced and set up to do damage as invaders come in. Kim�s also spending the time to reinforce our System security for the settlement, making it more expensive for others to buy information,� Lana says. �You?�

�Nothing much. Mostly Level 30s out there, nothing to worry about. I accidentally wiped a lair, some moss monster living inside. Didn�t realize it till later, otherwise I might have left it to grow,� I say, shaking my head. Pity. We could have used another dungeon to clear and get the XP bonus from. �Might need to range farther out to find a dungeon.�

�Not the worst thing in the world. So why are you sulking?� Lana says, prodding me with a booted foot.

I grunt, staring at her. �Not sulking. Thinking.� At her raised eyebrow, I find myself elaborating. �Now that we kicked their ass, the next attack is going to be in force. While Ali doesn�t expect them to send any Master Classes, even a high Level Advanced Class or two��

�Will be more than enough to hold us down. And there�s more of them than there are us,� Lana says, smiling grimly. �That about right?�

�More high Level individuals, yes,� I say, looking at her steadily as I finally say what�s on my mind. �We could beat them if we used everyone. Draw them in, target and whittle down each of their Advanced Classes and make them bleed as they come in.�

�But��

�But people will die. Probably a lot of them,� I say, waving at the window. �And that�s if we can get them to agree to do it.�

�No guarantee of that,� Lana agrees. �Non-combat Classers aren�t exactly the bravest bunch in general.�

If we had a connection with them, or someone with a very high Charisma score, like Richard, maybe we�d have a better chance of motivating the group. Lana could do it, but she�s got her hands full just organizing things. Then again, not being someone�s slave is pretty good motivation, I�d think. There�s no way to know what they�ll choose really, not without trying.

�But you don�t want them involved, do you?� Lana says, breaking into my thoughts. �Still trying to save the world?�

�No. Not if I can help it. But I don�t see another way.�

Lana smiles, leaning forward, her blouse falling open as she does. My eyes stray downward, and while I�m distracted, she flicks my forehead.

�Owww!� I exclaim. �You know, ever since we started sleeping together, you�ve gotten a lot more violent.�

�And you�ve gotten dumber.� Lana smirks. �When have you ever decided to take the options you�ve been offered?�

�I can�t think of anything else!� I snarl. �It�s not as if I�m a damn soldier. I�m a failed programmer with violent tendencies.�

�You were a failed programmer,� Lana says, her voice dropping, growing gentler. �Whatever you were, you�ve changed. Now you�re something more. You�re our leader.�

�Joy,� I mutter, suddenly feeling so damn tired. I never wanted this. But somehow I�m here, leading a group of people who trust me and a bunch of people who never asked me to.

�Tell me.�

�Huh?�

�Tell me why you don�t want the others to fight,� Lana says.

I meet her eyes, drawn into those violet whirlpools, the insistence in her voice focusing me. �Because� it�s not their job. It�s not what they should be doing. Not if they haven�t chosen to. Civilization, society, it�s been a climb from the bloody muck where everyone fought and killed and died. We built our world with technology and rules and will, so those who weren�t suited to a violent world could live in peace. Now, the drums are rolling and we�re all part of that thin red line of heroes.� Fresh anger bubbles up and leeches into my voice. �And we�re forgetting that damn line is there for a reason. The System might have destroyed our world, but the only people who can destroy who we are is us. And I�ll be damned if I contribute more to that than I have to.�

�Then find another way. And stop complaining.�

I nod, clenching that anger tightly again, pushing at the bubbling frustration. Lana watches, her hand on mine until I settle.

Then she edges closer to plant a gentle kiss on my lips. �Sometimes, not thinking about a problem can be the best way to find a solution.�

I return the kiss, wrapping my arms around her body and holding her generous warmth to me. I draw a deep breath, smelling that intoxicating mixture of fresh air, ionized air, and something that is just her, and kiss her again, harder this time. Perhaps I do need a distraction.

An insistent pinging wakes me from deep slumber, automatic reactions conjuring my sword into my hand as I sit up, startled. I see nothing except for Roland, who stirs slightly at my movements before returning back to watchful stillness, and a still-slumbering redhead. A moment later, a flashing message finally clues me in on what woke me.

�YOU HAVE AN INCOMING COLLECT CALL. WOULD YOU LIKE TO ANSWER IT?�

�Who�d be calling now?� I mutter softly.

Even as quiet as I am, Lana shifts. I freeze, wondering if I woke her, but then I hear the whimpering, the half-filled sobs, and I know. She�s having another of her nightmares. I stroke her head, futilely willing calm into her.

�MAJOR LABASHI RUKA.�

�Ah! Yes, answer it,� I send to Kim mentally.

�CONNECTING.�

�Redeemer, you wished to speak with me?� Labashi�s voice comes over the air, seeming to resound in my head.

Similar to but different from the way Ali talks to me. It�s weird and expensive, since I�m basically paying the System to make the connection, but it does skip past the entire issue of light speed lag and interference. A part of me, the same part that controls my affinity, seems to thrum with familiarity. Unfortunately, I don�t have time to explore it.

�Got a problem. Thought you might be able to help�� When Labashi doesn�t reject my initial proposal, I get right into it, explaining the situation I�ve dragged the team into. �Figured with your experience, you might have a few ideas.�

�Well, my first recommendation would be to augment your forces with external help,� Labashi says. �I�ll even give you a discount. It won�t cost you much since it seems like the Thirteen Moons are already at their limit. There�s a stop order on the boards about them.�

�Oh?� I say, curious.

�Merc boards. We keep a number for information distribution purposes, places for us to talk about things that might affect each other�upcoming wars, new Dungeon Worlds, and the like. The Thirteen Moons have over-extended themselves with their entrance to Earth. They�re over-leveraged and their credit rating wasn�t that great to start with,� Labashi explains. �None of the reputable companies will work with them.�

�Right. So just some companies of ill-repute at best.� I sigh. Better than I had hoped for. It was one of the reasons I contacted Labashi, the potential of external help on both sides making things even more complicated. But if we can hire and they can�t� �That�s good to know.�

�Figure a platoon or two for your town will provide you the extra muscle you�ll need and keep the town safe while you�re gone.�

�Gone?�

�If you�re outnumbered, you shouldn�t be waiting for them to set the tempo. Hit them and keep hitting them. I wouldn�t recommend taking another town though, not unless you�re willing to abandon it,� Labashi says.

�Guerilla tactics?�

�Not exactly. You have a well-known base of operations, among other things. But close enough for your purpose.�

�That can work. Send me the contract. If we can afford it��

�If not, we have access to some banks,� Labashi says smoothly.

�Send it all. And thank you,� I say, my shoulders finally relaxing.

So. Another option. Well, another two options. Help and a plan. Well, a direction, but I can work on it from there.

Awake now, I find my mind bouncing from thought to thought like a sugar-rushed fairy. With sleep eluding my grasp, I leave a note for Lana and take to the streets, walking my new domain. That�s how I find myself seated in the stands of a baseball field as dawn creeps over the horizon, watching Mikito and a hunter team train together. Facing the tiny Samurai in her Ghost Armor are four individuals: two in melee combat, a spellcaster over thirty feet away, and another fighter who intersperses his body between Mikito and the caster, firing a pair of pistols in staccato rhythm.

A jumping twist sends Mikito spinning through the air in a dodge, her naginata sweeping around her body to force her second assailant to dodge. The moment she lands, she�s spinning aside, taking the impact of the explosive rounds on her armor and building speed to sweep the legs off her initial attacker. Freed, Mikito darts toward the spellcaster.

Before she can reach the caster, the ground erupts in front of her, a rolling, attacking wave of greenery that grasps and stabs. A second is wasted as Mikito cuts and dodges, giving the others time to catch up with her.

�Nice use of the spell,� Ali says softly to me. �A bit wasteful for Mana but against itty-bitty��

�Yeah,� I agree.

There are three methods of targeting for crowd control spells�manual, area effect, and System-targeted. The first requires you to cast and hit the target�think Spiderman�s webbing, grasping ivy, and the like. The second is like my Polar Zone spell�target it at an area and anything inside gets affected. Including allies, which is less useful for group fights. And lastly, System-targeted spells go through the System, so there�s no dodging them, only resisting. Of course, in terms of cost, the spells go from low to high in order, so while System-targeted spells might be more effective in theory, they�re also significantly more expensive.

I watch the fight, the group surrounding Mikito doing their best to contain and take her down while Mikito takes shots of opportunity at the close-in fighters and attempts to get at the caster. Lowering her body to within inches of the ground and spinning on her feet, Mikito dodges a series of shots that impact against one of the sword-wielders behind her. Surprisingly, the bullets seem to do nothing, glancing off his body.

�What�?�

�Class Skill,� Ali says and flicks his finger.

Friendly Fire (Class Skill)

Reduces damage done to designated friendly targets by attacker. Number of designated friendly units and damage reduced is dependent on Class Skill Level. Mana Regeneration reduced by 5 per Skill Level.

�Useful. But expensive,� I say.

I can see why it�s not a common Skill. Even with their group, he�d need at least two Class Skill points dedicated to it, reducing his Mana regeneration by ten. That�s ten attribute points just to stay even, which can be painful, especially when you�re starting out. On the other hand, the way he�s taking part in the close-combat fight, I can see how they�ve integrated his ability into the fight. Curious, I pay a little closer attention to the shooter, calling up his information.

Mel Furh (Level 26 Gunslinger)

HP: 187/240

MP: 290/290

Conditions: Eagle-eye, Steady Hand

�Interesting,� I say.

The two conditions seem to be exactly what they say�boosts to accuracy and speed of targeting, allowing Mel to run and shoot at Mikito, adding to the sheer volume of attacks she has to deal with. It probably would work better against someone who didn�t have the control of the battlefield that the Samurai does, as she exhibits an uncanny understanding of where everyone is. As she�s explained before, it�s more an understanding of the options available to each individual in relation to the attacks they may use on her than a sixth sense. It�s still impressive.

Close to Mikito, the second melee fighter drops low and pushes his hands outward, fire exploding from his form. It�s the third time he�s done this attack, so it doesn�t catch Mikito by surprise, even if it does blow her aside enough into the path of the bullets.

Rhys Hnaris (Level 23 Mage Adept)

HP: 141/280

MP: 284/380

Conditions: Hasted, Flame Armor, Kinetic Absorption

Who would have thought there�d be a Mage who was willing to get in close? Using a combination of martial arts and spells, he�s holding his own. Mostly. He�s not skilled enough to compete with a dedicated melee fighter, doesn�t have enough physical stats to overpower others, and his Mana pool isn�t that deep. Kind of like a middle ground of all bad choices, if you looked at it statistically. Of course, none of that matters when you�re flexible and prone to pulling out surprises�which the Mage Adept is doing right now. The exploding flame, rather than retreating to his body, flows toward Mikito and wraps around her.

The ranged spellcaster doesn�t hesitate, waving and calling forth her moving greenery spell. This time around, instead of wrapping Mikito directly, she uses the spell to dump earth around the Samurai, entombing her. The swordsman and gunslinger pull back, the former guiding the Adept even farther away by hand. I frown, flicking a glance upward to note that Mikito�s health isn�t dropping too much before I relax.

A slow ten count, the green-brown mound shuddering and jerking with each of those seconds. But while she�s fast, smart, and destructive, Mikito isn�t that strong. She relies on her weapon and precision to add force multipliers to her attacks, rather than raw power like me. In a situation like this, it�s a major disadvantage.

�Impressive,� Ali says.

�She wasn�t fighting that seriously,� I point out. In the few minutes that we�ve watched, I already saw the holes in their offense that she could have exploited if she had gone all out. Among other things, she wasn�t Hasted. �But yes, they�re pretty damn coordinated. Might actually be better than us. Reminds me of Capstan and his original group.�

�They�ve put in a lot of time training their coordination. And they�ve done it in a disciplined manner,� Ali agrees.

As the mound slowly falls apart, a bladed polearm leading the way, I hop down to introduce myself. I�m a bit puzzled why a group this skilled and disciplined isn�t higher Leveled. The fact that they�re willing to be out here in the early hours of the morning speaks to their dedication.

�Hello there,� I greet the group, smiling. Not that they haven�t noticed me.

I get grunted and verbal greetings. Mikito offers me a single nod before she casts a Cleanse spell on herself to rid herself of soot and dirt.

After a round of greetings, I congratulate and praise them. It�s something I know needs to be done�boost their self-confidence, let them know they�re doing well. Lead, I guess, if you wanted to think of it that way. Which is why I�m surprised when the Gunslinger snorts.

�No need to pour sunshine up our ass. Mikito was holding back,� Mel says, the well-built brunet grinning as he speaks. �She could have taken us at any point if she hadn�t limited her abilities and tactics.�

His harsh words get a round of nods from his team�and it�s clear, it�s his team.

�Huh.� His bluntness give me pause for a moment. �How come you guys are so low Leveled?�

�The Sect,� Rhys answers, grimacing. �They took on anything that was higher Level, limited our hunting to lower Level zones and limiting the amount of time we could hunt. They wanted us to stay well below their Levels. Made it easier for us to be controlled. Rather than get �relocated for better opportunities,� we decided to limit our growth ourselves.�

�They could stop us from Leveling, but they couldn�t stop us from training,� Mel says, his hands casually resting on the butts of his pistols. I look at the pistols again and realize I recognize those giant, ugly pistols, but I�m unsure why. Seeing my look, Mel smiles slightly and pulls one out, finger off the trigger and holding it pointed up and away slightly, for me to see it properly. �Desert Eagle. More a toy than a weapon before the change, but with my added strength��

�You were shooting exploding rounds,� I say, frowning. �Didn�t realize they had those.�

�Class Skill. I�m able to make specialized ammunition that works with my weapons. Upgraded them all myself too, so they work with the System,� Mel explains.

�Can they�?�

�Nope. Tried it already,� Mel says. �Seems to be locked to me, so I can�t provide the rounds or guns to others. Might change at higher Levels, but for now, it�s only the craftsmen who can do that.�

�Your Class�� I ask, unsure about the etiquette on this matter but curious anyway. We�re all still figuring things out after all.

�Gunslinger. You could call me a bit of a gun nut before this. Was in the army for a few years. Infantry. Was in between deployments to Afghanistan when the System hit. That first day, I grabbed at the Class when it came,� Mel says. �Wasn�t thrilled with the idea of being a Rifleman.�

�Ah.� I nod in agreement. Yes, the System was known to hand out skill- or hobby-appropriate Classes. Still, surprising that he got what I�m assuming is a somewhat uncommon or even maybe rare Class in a city like this. Then again, luck does have a part to play in all this. �Seems like an interesting Class.�

�I think so,� Mel says, flashing me a grin. �Mikito tells me you were planning on hitting Kelowna earlier, but stopped?�

�Yup. I figured it�d be good to attack them if we wiped out their Advanced Class team, but�� I shrug, acknowledging our failure. �Didn�t work out. Probably a bad idea anyway.�

�Why�d you say that?� Mel says, frowning.

�Well, a friend pointed out that we�d be over-stretching ourselves. We wouldn�t be able to defend either place adequately,� I say, remembering Labashi�s advice.

�Only if you intended to defend it. Nothing wrong with wiping out their people then pulling back, draining the place of any resources you can get your hands on,� Mel says. �Hell, if you threw up some basic defenses, no guarantee they�d be willing to go after it.�

�Oh�?�

�We�re right smackdab in their zone of control. Only reason the other team wasn�t here was because they were expanding out east. If you knock them out, all the cities around us would be in a precarious position geographically. Nothing to support them�which means they might not risk more people to take a marginal place,� Mel says.

�Risky,� Mikito says, frowning.

I note that Rhys is nodding as well.

�Of course, but what do you lose out? Might widen their options, but if you don�t care about losing the cities��

�And the people who live in those cities?� I ask softly, my voice cold.

Mel�s broad shoulders move in a dismissive gesture. Before I can say anything else, another group wanders into the training grounds. Mikito takes the opportunity to order the groups to train together, gripping my arm to pull me away.

�Bit of a dick, isn�t he?� I say, not bothering to lower my voice.

�He�s actually got a pretty decent set,� Ali says, glancing at me.

Mikito ignores the rude Spirit, speaking to me instead. �He�s not wrong. Nor are you. But I don�t think you are here to talk to my people?�

�Your people?� I say, then move on before she can answer. �I was, a little. Thought I�d get a firsthand look at them, maybe give a few encouraging words. Also wanted to let you know that we�ve got some Hakarta coming in to reinforce the city in a few days, once their transport drops them off. Well, and I sign the papers.�

�Hakarta?� Mikito frowns then glances at the group before nodding. �You want me to warn the hunters.�

�Right. I�ll get Lana on it too, but well��

�They�re more likely to do damage,� Mikito says, nodding. �Consider it done.�

�Thanks.� I watch the groups spar. I frown, shifting my feet, considering if I should stick around.

Mikito steps in front of me, blocking my vision. �You should go.�

�But��

�You have better things to do. And your presence is not beneficial,� Mikito says, smiling slightly to take the sting out of her words.

�I��

�Go. I have this,� Mikito says, waving.

�Fine,� I grumble and head off, kind of upset she�s kicking me out.

I�ll admit I�m not the most charismatic or nice individual, but I�m not that bad! Still, I do have paperwork to review and others to speak with. Resigning myself to further work, I head off.

Chapter 11

�Again,� Mikito says firmly as I come to an end of the form.

I glare at the woman for a moment before sighing and walking back to the center of the room we�ve taken over to restart the sword form. One of the advantages of owning most of a city, places like a school gymnasium are easy to find and the bonus in training speeds is a plus.

Before I can begin, Mikito says, �Focus on your edge. It�s still shifting at the end. And at step three and seven, shift back a half inch.�

I grunt, nod, and begin. The form I use, that I train, is the same one I deduced over a year ago from what I saw on recordings of Erethran Honor Guard fights. In particular, there�s a certain blue-haired woman whose style I�m attempting to mimic, a way of using the Soulbound weapon more effectively. It requires me to summon and banish my blades as I attack and defend. Together, Mikito and I have further refined it, adding the additional blades from Thousand Blades so that I can form a never-ending ring of swords around my body. In theory�and with some practice�the form allows me to attack and defend at the same time, constraining openings as the floating blades cut off lines of attack.

Sadly, while Mikito might be trained, smart, and dedicated, she was also limited by her past. Human martial arts don�t contain much knowledge about floating weapons that move in their own paths, so we�re both struggling to figure out the best ways to use this Skill of mine. Since the recordings we have are of the lady in actual combat, replicating them into forms that I can use to train was difficult. If it weren�t for the fact that I heal constantly, I�d be littered with wounds.

It�s only after I�ve run through the forms another four times that Mikito calls it a day. At least for the theory portion of our early morning training session. As I stretch and rub at the latest cut, smearing blood over my skin, Mikito is gently stretching.

�Ready?� the young Japanese woman asks me.

�Limits?� I answer.

�No Skills for the first three rounds. Then we�ll increase. Choose one Skill or spell to add each round,� Mikito suggests.

I nod. �Sounds fun.�

I grin, calling forth my sword and getting into my guard. Right foot forward, hand held slightly above waist high and slightly outside my right knee. Left hand close to my angled body, weight distributed evenly.

Once Mikito sees I�m in guard, she moves, leaping forward. My eyes widen slightly, the change of pace and style catching me off guard for a microsecond. Luckily, my reflexes don�t stop, shifting my sword to aim toward the fast-moving body, and it clashes with her naginata even as the Japanese woman spins away. I catch a glimpse of laughing eyes, the sheer joy of letting go without concern for safety, before I have to focus. Still, a grin creeps across my face.

An hour plus later, we�re both seated on the ground, panting. Stamina might not necessarily be a major concern during fights for either of us�well, me�but training is different. We�re purposely attempting to remove all our Stamina, pushing ourselves to the state where we�re tired and start making mistakes. The kind of mistakes that only happen when you can barely lift your hand.

As I stare at the ceiling, I can�t help but ask, �How are you doing?�

�Recovering. Eight minutes,� Mikito says wryly.

Of course it�s eight minutes. It�s mostly the same for me. That�s one of the oddities of the System�it takes the same amount of time for everyone to reach their peak level. Of course, what that peak level is is different, but still. An oddity. Only Class Skills make a difference.

�I meant with the hunting groups,� I say, clarifying matters. It�s been days since we arrived and Mikito has taken on the role of guide without complaint.

�It is good. They�re more hesitant than those in Whitehorse. More jumpy. I�m spending time building up their confidence,� Mikito says with a frown. �The Sect has done well to condition these guys to play it safe. Getting them to risk a little has been the hardest thing.�

I nod, understanding her point. Still, it wasn�t what I was asking. Even if we�ve only known each other for a bit, she�s still a friend. And a year ago, she lost her husband and her family. Now I�m asking her to take care of strangers and train them to put themselves in front of monsters. �And you?�

�I�m fine,� Mikito says, offering me a slight smile.

It�s a deflection. I know it. She knows it. But I don�t push it, because, well, it�d be rude. And talking about our emotions, about how we feel, isn�t really something either of us is comfortable doing. Blame our culture, our upbringing, or just our nature. In the end, the results are the same.

�Okay then,� I say softly. �So tell me what I did wrong this time.�

Mikito smiles slightly, leaning forward to speak. After she�s done, I�ll give her my own notes. And then, well, we�ll do it all again tomorrow.

I frown, staring at the converted block of buildings. What used to be squat, utilitarian concrete buildings have transformed, becoming one squat, utilitarian concrete building with weapon emplacements. A concrete extension, seeming to have grown from the corner of the building, joins the apartments to the two-story retail shops next to it. Above the retail stores, sandbags and molded steel sit on the rooftops, providing cover and protection for defenders. Just above, mostly hidden, I see flashes of greenery where the apartment complex�s garden thrives. As Lana said, the building is impressive.

As I walk up to the main entrance, Benjamin walks out to greet me with a smile. Behind him, protected by sheets of metal, are guards, each carrying registered rifles. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see security cameras dotting the walls, watching me as I approach.

�Johnathan, thank you for taking me up on my invitation,� Benjamin says with a smile, offering his hand.

�It�s just John,� I say, shaking his hand. Once again, I eye the thin Architect. His invitation was a surprise, though it shouldn�t have been. After all, I had �felt out� Roxley myself. There�s no reason Benjamin wouldn�t want to do the same with me.

�Come on up. Or would you like the tour first?�

�Mmm� dinner first,� I say with a smile.

Interestingly enough, Benjamin doesn�t live on the top floor but the sixth. His apartment is small, cozy even, with the look of a well-lived building. Children�s toys and discarded clothing are scattered on the floor of the living room, around a worn beige couch, and a smiling lady greets me as I step in.

�This is Susan, my wife,� Benjamin says, then he�s tackle-hugged at the knees. He pats the child�s head. �And Julia, my daughter.�

�Mr. Lee.� A hand is offered to me, which I shake. Ben�s wife has long, curly, light brown hair and is wearing a simple summer dress that hugs a thin figure. �Please, sit. Dinner will be served soon.�

�Thank you,� I say, letting Ben and Susan guide me to the dining room. Surprisingly, I find Mel seated already. �Mel.�

�Ms. Sato mentioned that we should have Mel over for dinner too,� Benjamin says as we take a seat.

�Not a problem,� I say. �Mikito tells me your team was the one who managed to clear the dungeon?�

�Yes. That completion bonus was quite good,� Mel says, eyes glinting with humor. �I�m beginning to understand how you guys Leveled so fast, especially if what Mikito said was true about the number of dungeons you had to deal with.�

�There were a few,� I say, leaning forward. �Tell me about this one.�

Mel tilts his head, regarding me for a second before expounding on the dungeon. I lead him on, getting a feel for how they did and what he thought. Mel�s interesting�he�s dry and clinical and extremely detailed about the dungeon, almost as if he�s providing a report. Only when Susan arrives with dinner do we switch topics and speak about lighter matters. The weather, cute new animals, the burgeoning education and daycare system she�s involved in. Topics more suited for the ears of the four-year-old joining us.

The meal is delicious and filling�matzah ball soup followed by a roast with pureed carrots and potato pancakes, and after that, mashed potatoes and salad and a stew. Beef stew perhaps, though I wouldn�t have bet on that for the meat. Tasty and chewy anyway.

When dinner is over, Julia is taken by Susan to her room, Ben�s wife giving him a look I�m unable to read.

�Shall we take a walk?� Ben asks, gesturing toward the door. �I�d love to show you around the apartments.�

�Sure,� I say readily, curious about the building and his Skills. It doesn�t hurt that we�ll actually get to the meat of this meeting finally. As nice as a home-cooked meal and the evening was, it�s pretty draining playing at this social game.

No surprise, Mel follows us as we walk.

As we head down the corridor to the elevators, Ben speaks. �Sam tells me he�s not really from the Yukon. He joined you later?�

�Yes.�

�Ah�� Ben pauses, realizing I�m not going to elaborate. �Well, he seems to have gotten along well with you.�

�He�s got an interesting Class,� I reply.

Mel�s eyes tighten, but he doesn�t say a thing.

�Very true. There�s been some interesting synergy between his Class and the Mechanics, Engineers, and other craftsmen in town. Now that they�re working together with a wider range of resources, they�re managing to develop some interesting inventions,� Ben says. �Ah, you might be interested in this.�

Ben stops at a door, opening it and pointing at where the original apartment building expanded to join the retail stores. For a time, he explains the various security measures and his Skill, detailing Mana and point cost, the self-improving nature of the building. It�s an interesting discussion, but as we speak, I can see Mel getting more and more impatient.

When we�re finally out of the join, Mel speaks. �What are your plans for us? For the residents.�

�What do you mean?� I say, raising an eyebrow.

�You don�t seem intent on leaving. Are you intending to choose people based off their Class and Skills? Off Levels?� Mel says belligerently.

�Choose what?� I ask softly, playing obtuse.

�The people in charge. Don�t think we�ve not noticed that everyone in charge is someone with a high Level or one of you Yukoners.�

�Well, we are somewhat more experienced,� I say, shrugging. �Thus the higher Levels.�

�Bullshit,� Mel snaps. �Ben here knows more about city planning than you do. He was on a damn city council, for god�s sake. And Mikito might know how to fight, but she�s still learning about tactics. At least you�ve got Sam and Torg dealing with your farming and crafting.�

�Figuring we�re not competent?�

�Not competence. Lacking a little experience perhaps,� Ben interjected.

Mel says, �You kids have��

�Kids? You might be a decade or two older, but we�re not exactly children,� I snap, then draw a deeper breath. �And who�s the kid? You both are nearly half our Levels. Whether you like it or not, those Levels matter.�

�As does pre-System experience!� Mel snaps. �You think your Levels are all important while��

�While you aren�t paying us enough respect for what we�ve done.�

�I�m sure Mel wasn�t insulting you on purpose,� Ben says quickly, stepping between us. �We�re all just looking to help out where we can.�

�Maybe. But calling me a kid isn�t helping,� I say angrily. �We�ve got the experience of actually building up a city in this new System world. And yeah, we might not have the same skills you had, but we sure as hell have done it before.�

�And we understand that,� Ben says, shooting a glare at Mel to shut him up. �But we�d also like to know what your plans are for the city.�

�Not much to tell. We�re going to do our best to get the city into shape, give you all the boost that we�ve found worked in the Yukon to become a functioning city,� I say. �We�ll kick the Sect�s ass too, while we�re at it. In the meantime, if you guys want to help, we need you to continue Leveling up and helping keep things contained. Whether you like it or not, till the Sect is dealt with, we�re the city�s best hope.�

�Fine. We�ll continue Leveling up, but you guys better start talking to those of us from Kamloops. We won�t take being locked out of our city. Not again, and not by a� by humans,� Mel says huffily.

I nod. He�s a bit short-tempered and gruff perhaps, but I get it. And I do have plans for them�but it�s not time to tell him just yet.

The next week passes in a blur. The Hakarta platoons arrived yesterday. They integrate pretty well, mostly because my team and I take the time to ensure everyone is settled with their presence before we head out. I guess when you have a walking, talking, mostly polite humanoid and compare it to the slavering, carnivorous monsters that lie outside the cities, you get a little bit of perspective. Helps when the polite green humanoid looks as though he could rip you apart if you weren�t polite.

In the course of the week, Mikito�s able to drag the average Level up by one, which is pretty impressive when you consider how few high-Level zones are around here. I�m once more reminded how �lucky� we were in Whitehorse.

�DRONES ONLINE,� Kim flashes at me, and my minimap updates.

A second later, another larger map appears in front of me, providing a real-time feed of the surrounding areas. While the bionetwork continues to grow out, the modified sensor drones will help fill in the gap and provide more detailed information. For now, Kim has them on a routine sweep.

�Thanks.� I stare at the information, watching data flicker and update before stabilizing. I dismiss the map after a second, and the view of the roadway where we wait reappears. The rest of the team hasn�t arrived yet, so it�s Sam and me standing in the middle of the road west, sharing the map information that he�s fed to the settlement. �Good work there, Sam.�

The Technomancer grunts his acknowledgement, head still in the bowels of his modified truck. Now that he has had the time and supplies, he�s been upgrading his transportation, adding everything from anti-gravity plates to plate armor. The most eye-catching addition is the anti-tank beam cannon mounted on the roof, a weapon that feeds off its own power supply. It doesn�t have a lot of shots, but it�d hurt even me.

�Keep the teams to the north for now,� Mikito instructs the group that trails her as she turns the corner. �Remember, the Hakarta are here to help, but you all are still the primary defense force. You need to pull the teams back in time for you to join the convoy. Watch your rotations!�

�We got it,� Mel grumbles, shaking his head. �I�ve done this before you know.�

Mikito�s lips purse, but she nods shortly, leaving the group.

Coming from around the other corner, Lana�s doing much the same with her tiny retinue. Torg, Benjamin, and a few others who make up the new city council listen to the redhead. While they still aren�t happy, the short-term solution of using a group of locals to oversee the day-to-day has settled the locals down somewhat. Unlike Mikito, Lana�s mostly just saying goodbye and letting them know our general plans. Rather than breaking away, the group follows Lana all the way to me.

�John,� Benjamin greets me with a smile, eyes sweeping over our group as we get ready to leave. �We�ll keep the city ticking for you.�

�Thanks.� I smile in gratitude. I�m not stupid�I understand the risk in giving this group of strangers as much access and power as I am, but it�s not as if I have that much time. Better to trust that Lana picked them right and that Kim can keep them contained while I get on with the important parts of keeping everyone alive. Not to mention the fact that unless they�re really stupid, they�ll wait to take over until the current danger has passed. No reason for me to stick around and help them out if they take the city from me.

�Not sure what I�m doing on the council,� Torg mutters, shaking his head as he returns to a familiar complaint.

�You know farming. System farming to be exact. The city mostly does farming. Seems like the perfect fit to me,� I say.

�I�m just a Serf�� Torg peters off as everyone else looks at him. He sighs, giving up.

Still, I make a mental note to keep an eye on him and look for a replacement. Never know if he�d choose to leave for a more established city.

�Right, you guys keep the city running. Get the convoy up and running. We won�t be gone too long, if everything works out well. Kim can contact us if necessary and has an idea of what we want done. Mostly though, keep building, keep growing in Levels, and keep strengthening our defenses,� I say.

After that, getting on the road takes no time. Lana joins Sam in his truck while Mikito and I ride ahead. About half an hour later, we exit the sensor envelope around Kamloops and find the last member of the team waiting for us.

�Ingrid.� I pull Sabre to a stop, leaning forward as I sweep my gaze over her body. Nothing out of place and she looks, if not relaxed, at least somewhat neutral.

�John. Ladies,� Ingrid says, her gaze lingering on Sam�s truck before she shakes her head and dismisses whatever thought is bugging her. �You got my message?�

�Yes,� I say, tapping my helmet so I can at least speak with her eye-to-eye. Really, a part of me wonders why I bother with a helmet. I�m strong enough that I could fall off the bike onto my head at a hundred miles an hour and only get a tiny ouchie. But years of training seems to hold true, making me feel really uncomfortable on the bike if I don�t have the helmet on.

Before Ingrid can answer further, Shadow, who has crept up next to her, assaults her with a giant, slobbery tongue. A few minutes later, after Ingrid has finally pried herself away from Lana�s puppy and its shadow�and how a shadow slobbers and licks is somewhat mind-bending�she is more calmly greeted by the girls and Sam, leaving me drumming my fingers in impatience.

�They pulled everyone from Vernon?� I say slowly.

�Yes,� Ingrid says.

�And you�re certain there isn�t anyone in town?� I mutter.

�Certain? No. But I�m pretty sure the Sect grabbed all of their people and their Serfs,� Ingrid says. �If they�re there, they�re so well hidden we can�t see them. They might really be gone."

�What do you intend to do?� Lana says, tilting her head toward me, a lock of hair falling across her face to be angrily brushed aside.

�Take the city. Organize those who are willing and have them leave for Kamloops. Then I�m going to sell the city back to the System,� I say.

�What?�

�Huh?�

�Maji?�

�Why?�

I turn to Sam, who asks that last question. �We can�t hold the city. And with our population so shot, there�s no point in keeping a ton of tiny little enclaves. Better to concentrate our people where we can to grow faster. Also, the Credits from selling a town can be��

�Lucrative,� Ali says, flashing a wide, shit-eating grin. �That�s how John got Sabre.�

I see lots of nods, but of course, it�s Ingrid who asks the obvious question. �You going to share?�

Organizing Vernon and getting its citizens moving back toward Kamloops is painful. People are stubborn, emotional, and irrational, and even in the face of incontrovertible proof that their town is dying if not dead, many still refuse to leave. It takes all of Lana�s significant Charisma to convince most of them to pack. There�s no way we can guard them all, no way to keep them safe from the monsters or the Sect if they are out on the limb. And yet, some refuse. Some because they don�t believe us. Some because they believe it�s another test. But Lana does her thing as do the others to a smaller extent, and we slowly get a stream of others in. Of course, the next problem is transporting people back to Kamloops.

�We ready yet?� Sam asks. �The convoy should be ready by now.�

�How long will it take?� I frown, trying to mentally gauge how long it�d take to send a message back to get the convoy moving to us. Then again, until we have at least the majority of people sorted and out of the way, I�m not going to even attempt to enter the City Center. Just because we haven�t run into any traps or resistance yet doesn�t mean there isn�t any.

�Hour or so. Should just be about right for the pickup,� Sam says, turning to his truck. He stares at it for a second, and a panel in the back rolls back, a drone floating upward. I can see portions of my drones in it�the dragonfly�s base framework has been bulked up and altered. The resulting drone is no longer a surveillance drone but something bigger, nastier, and greyer. A pair of beam rifles stick out from its side, and a smaller dish hangs below the undercarriage. �I�ll let Kim know. Shouldn�t take more than an hour and it can hone in on me later.�

�When did you build it?� I ask, looking over the new drone. Not what I was expecting, since this drone is significantly different from my own and the ones around the city.

�In the last few days, after I modified the others for Kim. Have about a half dozen drones in store, though I can only control three right now. Well, three with any degree of control,� Sam says quite proudly. �I got fed up of hiding inside Mikito�s PAV.�

I smile and send Sam off to send the message while I walk around quietly. As always, Mikito has taken on the role of dealing with the few hunters while Lana�s in the midst of organizing the others. I pitch in with Lana where I can, cajoling and answering questions, but it�s no surprise that Lana and eventually Sam are the main go-tos. I�m more than content to let them deal with the crowd, and I eventually break off when Ingrid makes her way back.

�So�?� I ask.

�Traps. Lots of them. The entire building�s wired to blow. Multiple spells and turrets are set up to deal damage if anyone tries to enter the Core. Probably some mines too,� Ingrid says, shaking her head. �Wasn�t easy to get close enough to look. The townsfolk cordoned off the place. I hear a few people were injured before they realized the problem.�

�Can you disarm it?� I ask.

�What do I look like?� Ingrid says sarcastically.

I wince at her tone and glance at Sam, wondering if he could be of use.

�Don�t bother, boy-o,� Ali says. �He doesn�t have the Skill for this. Or skill. Disarm Traps or its equivalent is a specialized thing. You�d need both to do a proper disarm.�

�Great.� I frown, considering my options.

�What are you worried for? Toss your Soul Shield on and walk in,� Ali says, waving. �Just keep casting your Heal spells and you�ll be good.�

�Just walk in?� I say, somewhat amused. �One does not just walk in��

�With your health, Skills, and spells?� Ali says. �Yes. Yes. You do. Unless you want to take a few days slowly whittling down the defenses.�

�Then we stick to the plan,� I say, gesturing to the group of humans still being slowly moved and guided out.

The second convoy departs as I speak, enough transportation scrounged together to make a group large enough to make sense to send out with our limited number of hunters. I can only hope the rest of the hunter teams arrive from Kamloops. We didn�t want too many of our own people in the initial scouting groups, but now that we know what the situation is, it�s time to get moving.

Hours. It takes hours for transportation to arrive from Kamloops and the refugees to pack themselves in. The hunter groups from Kamloops are finally here, spread out to play guard over the convoy. Lana and Sam are in the midst of it all, organising people and directing them to vehicles, bargaining and explaining why, no, bringing Grandma�s armoire isn�t going to work. It�s stupid, irrational, and emotional and why I�m dodging it all, seated as I am on a nearby office tower and watching the roads, staring at the data Ali feeds me.

It�s there that Ingrid finds me. �Nothing?�

�Not yet,� I say, my fingers rolling a chocolate bar around and around. �I could have sworn they�d have hit us by now.�

�Might be waiting for you to take the city,� Ingrid offers, gesturing toward the abandoned building which houses the City Core.

�They can�t think I�m that stupid.� Maybe I�m being paranoid, but this feels too much like a trap. There�s no way I�d go in while the city is still mostly populated, never mind the threat of an attack if I�m stuck making my way to the City Core.

�Stupid is as stupid does,� Ingrid says.

�And boy, have you done some stupid things,� Ali adds.

�We set?� I say to Ingrid, ignoring Ali, and receive a nod in reply. I relax slightly, grateful that whatever the reason for the delay, we�ve set up our own little series of surprises.

�Would I be here otherwise?� Ingrid snarks back.

I open my mouth to reply, but something on the horizon catches my eye. I frown, zooming in with the helmet, the dot growing bigger at an astounding rate. A pair of stubby wings, a flattened, cone-shaped body in grey, and stubs of metal pointing out of it is what I see. Behind it, bigger, blockier airships follow at a more sedate pace.

�Shit!� I mentally command the radio on. �We have incoming airships. Get everyone off the streets and hidden. Sam, we�re going to need that gun of yours. Ingrid, Mikito, get ready to intercept when their ground-pounders arrive.�

Even as I speak, the dot I noticed has expanded significantly, now visible to the naked eye. A moment later, its weapons start tearing up buildings with brilliant blue beams of destruction. I throw myself off the building, crossing the distance to another, my Soul Shield flaring into a brilliant corona of reds and blues as energy bleeds over.

I run and dodge, the attacks seeming to be fixed on me. A few eternal seconds later, my Soul Shield having fallen and my exposed skin blackened, the attack cuts off. The booming echo of too-fast airships and crumbling buildings rings through my ears. My breath comes hurriedly, the filtered air from the helmet stale and sterile. On a partly crumbled building, I swing my hand up and ignore the falling black dots that make up air-inserted Sect members. My team will have to deal with the invaders disembarking from the transport ships. My job is to fix my mistake. I should have known about the damn airships.

My hand rises, my mind fixing on the fast-retreating airship that is already turning, and I make the connection. Lower the potential on one side, increase it on the other. Use Mana to restrict the flow, my Elemental Affinity to reduce the bonds in the channel. Then more Mana to start the process, even as arcane symbols and thoughts flicker through my mind. Lightning explodes from my hand, reaching across the distance in a blink of an eye, and I channel the raw forces of nature. Ali darts forward into the stream, focusing the flow and intensifying it with his ability.

Around the gunships, shields flares to life, taking the damage I dish out as the lightning jumps from ship to ship. Those shields are more than enough to deal with my initial blast, but I have the connection now and I refuse to let them hold the high ground. A part of me rails against my stupidity at forgetting that there is no dragon to rule the skies. That out here, airpower is actually possible. People are dying, people have died, because I made a mistake and all I can do is pay them back in kind.

Beams of fire targeted at my unmoving form, my refreshed Soul Shield glowing as it sheds damage. Seconds before my shield falls, so does the lead gunship�s. More power, channeled through Ali, shorts out electronics and melts armor while my flesh cooks. A corner of my mind spots a beam of destruction stab upward from the ground, Sam�s truck taking out the second airship. Pain wraps around me like clingfilm, my nerves frying, my body burning. Suddenly, blessed relief from the mounting pain as the beam cuts off, the remainding airship peeling away.

�Enough, boy-o,� Ali shouts, and I realize he�s been doing so for a couple of seconds.

I kill the lightning, collapsing to my knees as my body struggles to heal. Flesh reknits, my hair slowly regrowing, burnt skin flaking off. A hand scrambles to the side and injects a health potion into my body to speed up the healing process. I know the System reduced some of the damage for me, reducing the actual effect of the damage to simulate my resistances and my health points. Hell, it even reduced how much it hurt. System-weirdness.

�Time to move,� Ali says, expanding the map so that I can see the converging red dots.

I made a target of myself, and if it weren�t for the hunter teams from Vernon and Kamloops and my friends slowing them down and distracting them, I�d be dealing with the landed Sect members.

John Lee

HP: 487/1700

MP: 729/1310

Conditions: Crispy

I stagger upward, eyeing my condition, and cast a quick Greater Healing and Greater Regeneration in short order. Should have done a second earlier, but I was so damn angry. Still am, but the armor I�m wearing is mostly gone and my health is nearly shot. Sabre first, then combat.

�Status,� I say over the party communications, wondering how things are going as I drop to the ground. Sabre�s on autopilot as it winds through the broken roads to me.

�Forty-three Sect members are in the city. They�re working in groups of five when they can, but we�re working on breaking them up. Levels range from around 30 plus to Advanced Classes, I�d guess,� Sam says, his voice gruff and hurried, as if he�s got something better to do. �Mikito and Lana and her pets are leading the combat teams in direct fights, but that Blood Warrior and Rock Thrower you were talking about are tearing through any group they find. We�re avoiding them for now but��

�Forty-two,� Ingrid says, breaking into the conversation. �But we need you out there, John.�

�On it. Just getting Sabre.� I hurry toward the intersection I know Sabre is rushing into. Instinct and the map make me jerk to a stop before I enter the intersection and expose myself. A large twisting cone of energy and vines rips through the air in front of me. �Might be a bit delayed.�

I conjure my sword and a few trailing blades, gather myself, then jump upward and sideways slightly. I land against the building�s wall, legs bunching beneath me as they take the impact and release, throwing me at an angle upward and forward. Spinning through the air, I lash out with Blade Strike as I clear the building, sending blade energy streaking toward my attackers.

Small fry, I note quickly, even as I conjure a fireball. I send it toward the group scrambling from my earlier attack. The fireball flies toward the group, a Sect member already raising his hand to conjure a shield of ice. That�s when I surprise them by Blink Stepping into their midst, ignoring my own fireball. It�s an insane move, stepping right into your own explosion, and that�s why none of them expect it.

Cutting right, I slice apart the fast-acting Mage, breaking his incipient spell and ducking behind his bleeding form, using his half-severed body as cover for when the fireball arrives. Everything is moving in slow motion it seems, but it snaps back into place when the fireball erupts, throwing red and gold destruction around like a child given a bag of confetti. Compared to being cooked alive by the gunship�s beam weapon, this just hurts.

�Die,� I snarl, lunging forward and skewering another Sect member.

A third, struggling up from being thrown aside by the fireball, gets run over by Sabre. I throw myself toward the bike, triggering the change and stomping on the struggling form with one newly metal-covered leg. The others are easy to mop up after that, the added firepower of the mecha adding to the carnage.

Exhaling, I take a couple of seconds to get my breath back. Then it�s time to get moving. Minutes of running and dodging, hunting down the glowing red, green, and blue dots of enemies on my minimap ensue.

There�s no planning on my part, instead giving control to Sam, who has a better view of the fight with his drones and isn�t directly in combat, stuck as he is in his truck. I bounce from group to group, adding an onslaught of sudden death to existing and burgeoning fights, never stopping as I attempt to close with the Blood Warrior. Problem is, he�s split himself a couple of times and his blood clones are running around, clogging up my minimap. The two I manage to catch are easy enough to dispatch�one easier than the other�but even watered down, they�re too tough for anyone except the core team to deal with. And if any of the team actually runs into the main body, it�ll go real bad real fast. Thankfully, Sam reports that Lana and her pets have run into the Rock Thrower, the group and her hunting team ganging up to take him down.

I round the next corner and spot a glowing threesome ready for the picking. Except I�m not the only one with sensors and information and these three hit me with a combined spell. Wind, electricity, and kinetic force cut, fry, and smash into Sabre�s shield, their combined spell throwing me through a nearby building and the next one too.

Sabre�s shield had taken a beating even before this and doesn�t last under the onslaught, meaning that the mecha�s armor has to take the brunt of it. Damage bleeds through�it always bleeds through�cracking a rib and searing newly healed skin, the smell of slightly cooked flesh re-assaulting my nose. I keep rolling, getting out of the line of sight, which does little when they fire a series of grenades inside and blow me out the other side of the wall.

This time around, I Blink Step mid-explosion, throwing myself onto the top of a nearby building using Ali�s line of sight. Head spinning from the attack, I struggle to orient myself as I stagger to my feet. A glimpse of figures below is all I need to act on instinct and return fire, launching my entire rack of missiles at the group. It�s overkill for a trio of Mages, but they pissed me off.

�Sorry about the trap, boy-o. They layered some invisibility spells to hide what they were up to and I didn�t manage to pierce them in time,� Ali says.

It�s a horrible trade, three Sect members for two-thirds of Sabre�s armor and even more of my Mana. I snarl, running again as I search for more, the smoking remnants of the town surrounding me. Vernon was never a big city�mostly three-, four-story office buildings in short blocks�which means I end up on the road again in short order. The city is ruined, smoldering hulks of buildings and spreading fires all around me. The Sect cares not a whit about collateral damage as they attack our people.

�Two blocks down, keep going this way,� Sam says, his voice urgent. I speed up, refreshing my spells and the shield�s, watching my Mana drop again. �The Blood Warrior�or one of his clones�is about to intersect with you.�

I grin wolfishly, happy that something is going my way. I raise the automatic rifle strapped to my arm, making sure that the armor piercing and high explosive rounds are cycled and ready. Comparatively low amount of damage, but the Inlin spits out enough projectiles that it makes up for some of it. In my other hand, I have my sword, ready to release a Blade Strike. On top of that, I prep the sonic pulser, pulling out all the stops when the Blood Warrior arrives.

The ear-piercing shriek, set at decibels high enough that it can shatter glass and screw with an individual�s inner ear, explodes outward the moment the Blood Warrior crosses the road. The red, fluid figure informs me that I�m not fighting the original, just one of his clones. Still, the sonic pulse is enough to make it shudder to a stop, disturbing ripples flowing along its �flesh� as the pulser assaults it. Time enough for me to drop all of my rounds into it, the projectiles alternately exploding or piercing its form.

�You!� the clone snarls. �You killed my friends.�

�Maybe you shouldn�t have tried killing us!� I snarl and keep running at it, releasing a wave of energy from my sword and its trailing counterparts.

The clone twists and dodges by jumping over and between the flying crescents of energy, a display of agility that has me slightly envious. Even with my own enhanced stats, I�m not entirely sure I�d be willing to try that, especially not with the amount of time he has to react.

�You attacked us first,� the creature says as it lands and thrusts its palm at me. A spike of blood juts outward, slamming directly into my shield.

Momentum shatters the spike and the Soul Shield at the same time, letting me tackle the monster to the ground. I reach upward and slam my sword down to the side of him, trusting the arc of my attack to send the blades that trail alongside to cut into the ground beside the clone, trapping it. Doesn�t matter where it goes, it�s going to get cut.

�This isn�t over!� the clone snarls, stabbed through its chest by one of the trailing blades as it squirms aside.

I channel Freezing Blade, tired of listening to it, when the blood clone ripples then explodes, the explosion throwing me backward.

�Asshole,� I say with a groan. Flashing lights in Sabre telling me that the explosion has done even more damage to the poor mecha.

�That�s another group gone,� Ali says, coming over to where I struggle to my feet.

That makes four. Even if I�m locating and killing the damn Sect members as fast as I can, they�ve got the initiative here. We have the numbers, but they�ve got the Levels and the initiative, with our people too spread out across the city as we attempt to save everybody. They�re hitting our people piecemeal, taking out teams while we scramble.

�We�re losing,� I say after a glance at the map. �That�s it. Everyone, this is John Lee. Pull back on Sam. Grab whatever civilians you can, but everyone pulls back. Sam, coordinate them to fall back on you.� A part of me hopes I�m using the terms right, that everyone understands what I mean. It�s what I know from reading a few books and seeing a lot of movies, terminology that probably means what I think it does. �Ali�?�

�Head down this street and take a left. There�s a group of hunters pinned down with civilians about four blocks down,� Ali says.

Better to rely on my Spirit now; Sam�s got his hands full.

I curse inwardly, knowing we�re abandoning people, leaving them to be taken or possibly killed. A part of me figures that the Sect won�t actually go after the civilians, not when it�s clear we won�t be coming for them anymore. But another part of me wrenches at the thought of abandoning them, of leaving them to the mercies of the Sect. Still, I have an obligation to the fighters, the warriors, to my men. Sending them out to die is one thing, but doing so for a meaningless gesture? That�s the greatest betrayal I can think of.

We pull out what feels like hours later, the surviving combat Classers and the civilians we managed to gather in an assorted train of transportation vehicles. We have everything from gravity sleds to a 1940s Ford in the retreating convoy, bloody and shell-shocked civilians in all of them. No open wounds�or not many anyway, since the System is busy healing everyone. No more chance these days of someone dying from lingering injuries. Cold comfort, that thought.

But the Sect is letting us pull back. The fighting since I called for our retreat was brutal, the last fight a brief clash with the Blood Warrior�s main body right next to Sam�s truck. Dancing with him, containing his attacks while his friends fired at our grouped civilians, was stressful. The Blood Warrior pulled back fast once Mikito arrived, leaving the field of battle to us. Even the ranged attackers ran away after they realized they were steadily losing people to an unseen attacker. We managed to kill nearly two-thirds of their combatants in all the fighting. We bloodied them enough to force them back, but it�s a Pyrrhic victory at best.

�They still holding?� I say to Ali, even though I can see the information on the map as clearly as he can.

�Yes,� Ali says, fingers dancing. �I don�t think they�ll be dropping more people, but we should keep moving.�

�Sam?� I say, speaking to the Technomancer in the center of the convoy. �Can you talk to whoever is in front to speed up?�

�On it,� Sam says. �We need some hunters out ahead though. The civilians aren�t willing to walk into a monster attack.�

�I�ll send Roland and Shadow,� Lana chimes in from beside me, cradling a beam rifle. �Mikito�?�

�I�ll ask around and find some hunters,� Mikito says, something in her voice that I�m unable to read.

I frown slightly, turning to stare at where Mikito stands on the bed of a truck, but I can�t read anything behind her mecha�s armor.

�Thank you,� I mutter, wondering if this is it. Hoping it is.

I don�t have the numbers, not yet, but I know we lost quite a few of the hunter groups. We lost�badly, this time�and a part of me rebels at the idea. At the loss of life for no damn reason, of the pain and suffering. I find myself gritting my teeth, staring at Vernon while the column draws away from me.

I want to get back in, to make them hurt. But if I do that and they attack the column, I�d just be compounding one mistake with another. Better to stay here. And anyway, Ingrid�s doing her thing, hunting the stragglers, making them hurt inside that city. No. As much as I want to fight, right now, right here is my place.

But I swear, I�ll make them hurt.

Chapter 12

A day later, we�re gathered at the city center�s central office lounge. We being the entire team, excluding Ingrid, and my �council,� including Mel as a representative of the combat Classers. We�re scattered in a rough circle on whatever random chairs and other surfaces we can find. A part of me notes we need a real meeting room at some point, but right now, I want to be near the City Core.

�We lost four full teams and another fourteen combatants from those who came from Kamloops. The Vernon fighters lost the most. We barely have eighty of them here, and that�s including the ones who came in the earlier convoys,� Mikito says, pain in her eyes. �I don�t know how many actually died in the city. I wasn�t able to get a real count.�

�Definitely the same for the civilians. No losses from the earlier groups of course,� Benjamin says, shaking his head. �We�ve got over a thousand new people, some of them still shell-shocked. I doubt many of them will be of use to us in the next few weeks, though anyone who has survived thus far��

�Are survivors,� Mel says, grunting. �They�ll get over it.�

I grimace but nod, understanding the harsh truth in that statement.

When I look at Torg, he answers the next question easily. �We have enough food for them. Food is tighter, but we�ve shifted a few of the farms to producing consumables and those should help the overall situation. Our stores are more than sufficient for now.�

�For now,� I say, repeating the qualified statement. I almost ask how long �for now� means, but I figure if it was a major issue, he�d bring it up. Better to let the experts do what they do best without me jogging their elbow.

�Space isn�t an issue. There are still a significant number of abandoned buildings, even System-registered ones,� Ben says softly. �I�ve been upgrading them as I can, but at least they�re warm with running water.�

Again, I�m struck by the absurdity of me leading anyone. I don�t know, don�t understand any of this. Even the downloaded knowledge from the System doesn�t cover the fact that I just don�t have the experience or temperament to do this. As leading a bunch of hunters to their death showed.

�ATTACKERS HAVE BEEN DETECTED AT THE PERIPHERY OF THE SENSING ZONES. SHOULD WE DEPLOY DRONES FOR ADDITIONAL COVERAGE?� Kim says, flashing the notification in front of me and everyone else.

�Yes,� I say.

�No,� Mel says at the same time then glares at me. He draws a breath before explaining himself to me. �A drone will likely be picked up by them, letting our enemies know the limits of your sensor net.�

I nod slightly while Mel queries Kim for further information. I take a more direct route, pulling up the map and scanning the information. Two groups�four and six people respectively. That�s literally all the information there is, the biosensor network not particularly good at providing anything else. Well, outside of the fact that they�re on foot.

�We�ll deal with this,� Mel says, standing. I frown at him. �My people need the experience gained from fighting them.�

�But�� I protest.

�Lana is lending her pets to us, so we�ll have enough muscle power. And we�ve got trained groups who are stealthier than you and yours,� Mel says, cutting me off. �We have plans for this. Let us do our job.�

I grimace but nod and let him leave. I hate that he�s right and I hate that his people, the combat Classers, are going to do the fighting while I�m seated here, safe and useless. My glowering form keeps the silence until Mel leaves, at which point Ali clears his throat.

�Well, then. I got some good news,� Ali says, waving.

A list of information pops up: details of weapons, armor, and assorted magical and technological accessories.

�What�s this?� Benjamin asks, frowning.

�Loot,� Ali says, grinning and goes on to explain where he kept disappearing to throughout the fight. �I grabbed whatever bodies I could while we were in Vernon, dumping them into storage and John�s Altered Space. Gear�s decent and definitely an improvement for the city.�

We fall silent for a time, scanning through the list. I randomly stop at various pieces of equipment, assessing the information.

Kmino One-Size-Fits-All-Humanoid Battle Armor (Tier IV)

The Kmino Battle Armor provides a Galactic Council approved, Tier IV defense on all covered regions. Note that the Kmino Battle Armor is sized to fit all standard humanoid forms and will restructure (within Galactic Council approved limits) to fit with a high degree of comfort, suitable for even the most rigorous combat conditions.

Durability: 83/125

Inlin Solarburst Beam Rifle v4.8

The Inlin Solarburst is the classic, proven primary rifle for two hundred seventeen governmental armed forces�and one hundred eighty-three rebels.

Base Damage: 48

Mana Battery Charge: 25/25

Ground Elemental Clay

Most commonly used by professional demolition experts and the military, Ground Elemental Clay has been stabilized through an arcane process, ensuring the mixture is non-volatile and stable in most conditions.

Base Damage: 200

I grab the clay, because extra explosives are always nice. Anyway, I�ve got a skill�sort of�for explosives.

Proxima Earrings of Regeneration

The Proxima brand of luxury jewelry provides the best designs and the highest regeneration. Show your faith to the one you love, buy Proxima.

Health Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +3

�Anything else like this?� I send to Ali, admiring the earrings.

�Sort of. There�s also a penis ring, but considering the Worick we got it from was about as wide as your arm, I don�t think you�d want it. The other more traditional stuff is in the low single digits, other than a ring I set aside for you,� Ali says. �That means no stealing this for yourself.�

�Lana then?� I say, glancing at the earrings. I haven�t actually bought the young lady anything� I consider matters and decide that perhaps I should avoid giving my sort-of girlfriend dead body loot as my first official gift. �Remind me to go shopping.�

�Got it, boy-o. I�ll let Mikito know we got this if you don�t mind,� Ali says, and I send my mental agreement before going back to reviewing the list.

Q�mmn Never-ending Flask of Inebretiation

Blessed by Clerics of the God Q�mmn, the never-ending flask provides extremely high proof alcohol. This flask generates Ilmunax, a traditional distilled alcohol drink derived from the crushed bodies of Yuma worms.

�Is it really never-ending?� I ask Ali.

�Not really. The blessing runs out of after a decade or so, but it�s good enough for most people.�

�Huh.� I waggle my fingers, removing that particular item from the list.

In the end, I give up scanning the list in its entirety after extracting a promise from Ali that we�ve already kept all the really good stuff. A bit selfish on my part, but my team is still our best defense and anything that increases our survivability is good for the town. Or you know, that�s one way of justifying it. Really, I�m honest enough with myself to know I just don�t want to share.

�Share the rest among the combat Classers and anyone who came through Vernon first, then allocate as appropriate,� I say finally, giving orders to the group. After a second, I send a note to Kim to keep track of who gets what, a niggling concern about corruption in the back of my mind. After all, I really don�t know these people well.

I get more than a few surprised looks, even though Ali had purposely brought all this information out in the council meeting because we were going to share it. I ignore them, instead delving into the next issue that has arisen from dragging so many refugees to town. There�re a lot of problems, and housing and food are just the start of them. Even if I�m not the best person to make the decisions, someone still has to rubber stamp what comes through.

Hours later, I�m lying on the floor in the Core�s room, feet propped up on a chair, and staring at my character sheet. Now that we�re out of trouble, I figure it�s time for me to catch up on the notifications that have been awaiting my perusal. Most of them are experience notifications, the vast majority of which I�ve learned to ignore because as Ali once pointed out, knowing doesn�t change the reality. I either have the experience or I don�t. Better to view the actual character screen and the new Levels.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1780

Stamina

1780

Mana

1370

Mana Regeneration

98 / minute

Attributes

Strength

Agility

169

Constitution

178

Perception

Intelligence

137

Willpower

139

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Tech Link*

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

All that death and destruction was useful for something at least. I smile grimly, noticing I�ve edged ever closer to that elusive Level 40. Just a little more and I�ll actually gain access to my Tier III Class Skills. If I�d had those Skills back in Vernon, if I was just a little stronger�

I exhale, pushing aside the anticipation and regret, and remind myself once again that what is, is. Still, I�m human and not a damn monk�the shaven-headed, robe-wearing ones who sit under waterfalls and don�t have superpowers of kung fu�so I distract myself by poking at the equipment Ali saved for me. He�s even been nice enough to label them as mine.

To start with, I pull out the ring he mentioned. It�s a simple circular band of black stone with unknown runes carved onto it. Or it might be a language. In either case, holding the ring up to my eye, I pull up its information.

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

�How come the health regeneration is so much better than the Mana regeneration?� I ask. I ignore the Stamina regeneration, since that�s never been an issue for me. I just don�t have the kind of Skills where it would matter, and my base regeneration is so ridiculously high, it�s never been a concern. Mikito, on the other hand, with her Haste spells and other Class Skills actually has to worry about it.

�Mana regeneration�s always the worst,� Ali says.

�I asked why.�

�Just is,� Ali says, shrugging, obviously unconcerned with the why.

I grumble, hating how the Spirit can be so blas� about the way the System works sometimes. Then again, I never bothered to learn how indoor plumbing worked, so who am I to talk?

I stare at the ring once more, debating how I feel about the fact that this was someone�s wedding ring, before I shrug. Considering it�s so good, it must have belonged to a Sect member, and they were all slavers. Stealing from them was the least I could do.

Having resolved my doubts with what is probably a highly questionable moral equivalence, I slip the ring onto my finger, watching as the ring grows to fit. �Hey, this self-adjusted. Would some of the other stuff have done that?�

�No. Kryl rings are actually expensive. Most of that junk was mass-produced,� Ali says before he flashes up the next notification.

Monolam Temporal Cloak

This Temporal Cloaks splices the user�s timeline, adjusting their physical, emotional, and psychic presence to randomly associated times. This allows the user to evade notice from most sensors and individuals. The Monolam Temporal Cloak has multiple settings for a variety of situations, varying the type and level of dispersal of the signal.

Requirements: 1 Hardpoint, Tier IV Mana Engine

Duration: Varies depending on cloaking level

�English?�

�It makes you invisible by making your actual presence appear either in the past or future. It�s not actual invisibility and it can, on occasion, cause more trouble than it�s worth, but it�s also extremely effective at hiding your presence immediately,� Ali says. �You can set it up so that it sends your presence anywhere from a few minutes to a few years down the road. Of course, the more you interact with the world, the higher the cost on drainage.�

�Huh,� I say, rubbing my chin. This is real weird and scientific. Or maybe it�s magical, considering we�re talking about time travel of sorts. I�m not entirely sure at this point. �This looks like it needs to be connected to Sabre.�

�Got it in one,� Ali says. �Doesn�t make up for the QSM but��

�But it could be useful. How long a charge do we have?� I say.

�If we keep it to draining only about twenty percent of Sabre�s battery, which I recommend, anything from two seconds to about an hour.�

�Nice. Let�s get Sam to install this when he can.�

I turn next to the notification for a circular brown bracer which also has�if different�runic script on it.

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts as a storage battery for personal Mana. A must-have accessory for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 0/350

�Zero stored?� I blink, staring at the information.

�I drained it of the last amounts it had stored,� Ali says. �Can�t mix Mana types in enchanted equipment like this. You won�t even be able to use it just yet. You�ll need to acclimatize the system to you, which means putting in a little bit of your Mana at a time.�

�Still, that�s pretty decent,� I mutter and strap it on my left arm. I push my Mana toward it, careful to control how much, and immediately understand what Ali means. The bracer rejects my Mana immediately, forcing me to repeat the process slower and with significantly more focus. I expend nearly two-thirds of my current Mana pool before even a single point of Mana is stored in the bracer.

�Don�t worry, it gets better,� Ali says reassuringly. �What you input will disappear in a few hours, so make sure to keep refreshing the storage to assimilate it.�

I grunt in acknowledgement and get to the next notification, curious to see what kind of weapon Ali might have picked up. Interestingly enough, it�s a simple greenish steel dagger with no runes or other mystical markings, with a blackened steel hilt that fits snugly into my hand. It�s incredibly well-balanced, definitely made by someone with actual skill.

Fey-steel Dagger

Fey-steel is not actual steel but an unknown alloy. Normally reserved only for the Sidhe nobility, a small�by Galactic standards�amount of Fey-steel is released for sale each year. Fey-steel takes enchantments extremely well.

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

�This thing�s sharp,� I mutter, staring at the base damage.

Of course, sharp isn�t the right word�better to say that the System considers it extremely damaging, allowing it to do a higher level of damage�but in either case, it�s nasty. I�m also intrigued by the note that it can take enchantments well, though at this moment, I know no one with that ability.

�It is. All Fey-steel is like that. It�s why they�re so sought-after. The body I pulled it off of was one of the higher Level Classers. Must have been one heck of a story about how they came to own this,� Ali says.

�About that�� I frown, tapping the dagger. �How rare is this?�

�How rare were those Teslas?�

I nod, somewhat gratified. Rare but not entirely uncommon. Still, it�s not something I need to be showing off, so I dump it into storage. �No guns?�

�Nothing too much of an upgrade.� Ali shrugs. �You don�t really use rifles much, and while the weapons they had were improvements, it was mostly marginal. Better to stick with what you know than to chase a minor bump in stats.�

I have to agree with Ali on that. Changing up equipment might be fun in a game, but it always takes a little while to get used to new equipment. If the other weaponry isn�t much better than what I have already, what�s the point?

Next up are a series of mines and explosives, some omni-directional, some directed. I pull out a few, just for fun.

Shim Lun Razor Tripwire Mine

Rather than triggering a specific attack, this mine sends its razor-sharp tripwires across its targeted region, laying a trap for unsuspecting targets within its attack zone. Best paired with Shim Lun�s Skin Contact Poison Mine Canisters.

Damage: 15 per tripwire

Ollie�s High-Explosive Slime Mixture

Don�t let its name fool you, this is a high-explosive mine. Made from an unstable chemical mixture and a slime core, Ollie�s High-Explosive Slime Mixture is infamous across the Galactic System and banned in six Galactic regions for unusual cruelty to animals.

Damage: 125 Explosive Damage

Ares Burrowing Droid Pressure Mine

The Burrowing Droid Mine releases a series of droids that impact and attempt to burrow into target bodies. Once they are embedded in target bodies, the droids attempt to reach its target�s vital organs by burrowing toward the body. Please note that the Burrowing Droid may not work against certain non-standard, non-humanoid races.

Damage: 15 HP per second

�Ali, how much money do I have right now anyway?� I say. I know I got more from the fight, though I hadn�t bothered to do the math.

A quick look shows I�ve got just over thirty-eight thousand Credits�a pitiful amount considering how many I killed. Unlike the equipment Ali looted off dead bodies all around town when we passed by, Credits are only collected when I actually kill the individual in question myself. I personally think that�s a bit of a cheat, but then again, it�s better than the equipment stored in the System storage, which all disappears.

Fun and interesting as looking at the aftermath of the fight is, it�s nothing more than a distraction from the bitter truth that we lost that battle. I might have gained something personally, but we�d lost the battle. Even now, the Sect is probing our defenses, sending groups into the surroundings, seeing if they can sneak people close enough to take pot-shots at our shields.

For now, we�re in a stalemate with the Sect, but it can�t, won�t, last. Grimacing, I wave, pulling up a new book. Rather than an esoteric tome about the System, this one�s more pertinent to our current problems as it details one of the many, many conflicts the Erethran Empire has been involved in and their tactics. I�m hoping that somewhere in this book is knowledge that can help us. I�ve got hundreds of points in Wisdom and Intelligence; I must be able to think of something new. Even if those points don�t exactly work that way, I can still hope.

�John?� Ingrid calls softly early the next morning.

I dismiss the book and clamber to my feet, walking out of the Core�s room to greet the Assassin. �You made it back.�

�About an hour ago. I wanted to eat and change first,� Ingrid says. �Managed to take out another high Level Basic while I was in the city, but they started clamping down on security after that. Mostly, I just watched them.�

�Fair enough,� I say, knowing that Ingrid did the best she could have. Frankly, she did better than anyone else could, so I have no complaints.

�They�re hunkering down now. I don�t think they intend to leave. Probably use Vernon as a staging ground to attack here,� Ingrid says. �Any humans left aren�t being allowed to leave for their �protection.��

�Why don�t they just make them Serfs?� I say, frowning.

�Galactic Law. As much as you might call them slavers, the Galactic Council doesn�t legally allow slavery. Serfdom�and the entry to Serfdom�is actually very structured. Outside of being legally convicted for breaking laws, you have to voluntarily agree to enter a Serf contract,� Ali says. �Of course, the number of loopholes involved in �convincing� people to enter Serfdom is wide and varied, but they can�t just throw your entire people into Serfdom.�

�They added another ten or so combat Classers to the city after you left, but that was it. Didn�t look like they intended to add any more, but�� Ingrid shrugs, leaving unsaid the fact that she did less than a day�s worth of scouting. �One of the new classers was a hunter of some sort. It nearly caught me twice. Weirdest thing ever�six feet, purple-and-pink-furred lizard thing. I don�t think I�d be able to sneak back in any time soon.�

�They�re called Badas,� Ali supplies. �Sentient umm� well, sentient.�

I stare at Ali, curious as to what could make even Ali pause but discarding the thought. I�m sure there�s a story there, but for now, time to focus on Ingrid and our problems. I raise my hand, pulling out a map of the surrounding settlements. British Columbia has a ton of small towns, but outside of Kamloops, Vernon, and Kelowna, most barely have any population.

�Don�t think they�re going to do any major staging out of Merritt,� I mutter, tapping the town icon to the south of Kamloops. �So it�s probably a temporary base there.� At the hmmm from Ingrid, I clarify for her, �They�re attacking us from that direction. Probing with a few groups. So far we�ve counted about five different groups. All low Level though.�

�Okay. You want me to kill them tomorrow?� Ingrid asks, straight to the point.

�No. Mel�s got the teams doing that, using the Sect as training. Not sure they�re getting a lot of Experience, but�� I shrug.

Mel�s given me an overview of his plans, intending to let the groups come in and probe our defenses and even letting them succeed at times, saying it�s better to hide the full range of our abilities than to win every fight. I�m not entirely convinced, but his logic is sound, so I�m letting him run with it. As it stands, his results so far have been decent�no losses on our side and one death on the Sect�s. Unfortunately, unless we�re able to achieve a fatality, any injuries are easily healed. It�s probably why wars are so vicious in the wider System galaxy. If you don�t put them down, they just keep coming.

�Okay then. When you figure out what you want me to do, let me know,� Ingrid says, waving. �I�m going to get some rest.�

�Of course,� I say to Ingrid, waving goodbye. �Thank you again.�

I don�t get an answer as the woman strides off, leaving me alone again. After a moment, I look upward and stare at Ali.

�Been thinking about that Mana flow. We use it to power the settlement shield and the sentry towers, correct?� I say to the floating Spirit.

�Yes. Though it�s mostly from the background flow,� Ali says.

�Can we use the built-up reserves in a more active way? Maybe boosting the sentry towers and shields occasionally?� I say.

�Not the traditional way of using Mana overflows�� Ali says.

�And non-traditionally?� I say with a frown.

�Spells. Generally a settlement-wide enchantment of some form,� Ali explains.

�IT IS POSSIBLE. UPGRADES WILL BE REQUIRED FOR BOTH THE SENTRY TOWERS AND SHIELD GENERATOR, AS WELL AS THE PURCHASE OF A SETTLEMENT MANA STORAGE BATTERY.�

�Where is the Mana stored now?� I ask with a frown. After all, I can see the Mana numbers right in the settlement information.

�MANA ACCESSIBLE BY THE SETTLEMENT IS KEPT IN CIRCULATION THROUGH THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE TOWN.�

�What kind of rituals or enchantments are we looking at?� I ask Ali next.

�Anything you want. I�ve seen weather control rituals, life enhancement, fertility, crafting rituals. You name it, you can get it. Including defensive ones,� Ali states.

�So defensive rituals,� I say, nodding. �Think this is a conversation I�ll need to have with Mel.�

�And funds to build it up,� Ali points out. �Enchantments�combat enchantments in particular�are expensive.�

I groan. Of course they are. Anything good is always expensive. Though I absently make a note to ask Aiden about this. I know he�s got some experience with enchantments in Whitehorse. Perhaps we could con him into helping out here. Humming to myself, I start composing the message.

Tracking down Lana the next day isn�t hard. Even if I didn�t have access to the full surveillance apparatus of the city, the buxom redhead is both noticeable and well-known. She�s also a bleeding heart, which is why I�m not surprised to find her with the refugees in a makeshift office, making suggestions and offering advice to the crowd that has gathered. Luckily, there�s no shortage of jobs to be had, so it�s a matter of assignment more than anything else.

I wave to Lana, catching her attention before stepping back and waiting until she�s done. I spend the time watching the refugees, curious to see how they�re doing. They�re a mixed lot, though the group here leans toward the shell-shocked and somewhat disheveled. It�s interesting how even when your clothing and self is perfectly clean, you can look utterly wasted. There�s a truth in there somewhere, one that I�m too tired to consider.

�John?� Lana says, drawing my attention back to her.

�Oh hey.� I lean in to give her a quick kiss. She returns it before raising an eyebrow, querying my presence. �I wanted to give you this.�

I hand her my purchase, the small velvet box dwarfed in my hand. Lana takes the box, lips pursed in thought as she pops it open to see the simple silver and gold chain, each link inscribed with runes. Her lips part slightly as she stares at the necklace and the information that displays.

Proxima Necklace of Regeneration

The Proxima brand of luxury jewelry provides award-winning designs and the highest regeneration in its class. Show your faith to the one you love, buy Proxima.

Health Regeneration: +20

Mana Regeneration: +5

�This��

�Here, let me,� I say, taking the necklace and walking around to her back. Lana lifts her long, wavy red hair, letting me clasp the necklace. For a moment, my fingers fumble slightly as I stare at the graceful expanse of white skin. �Done.�

Rather than answer me verbally, Lana turns around and leans forward, planting her lips on mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. After a time, she breaks the kiss. �Thank you.�

�No worries,� I say awkwardly.

�What brought this on?�

�Ummm� nothing. Just thought I should,� I answer, deciding against mentioning my initial inspiration.

�Mmhmmm�� Lana says before she smiles one of those radiant smiles. �Thank you again. You know, Richard would be taking you out for a talk if he saw you give me this.� There�s a brief flicker of sadness, one that she forcibly pushes away.

I nod slightly, understanding her pain. I miss that idiot too.

�Was this it?� Lana says. �Not that I don�t value your presence��

�Yes,� I say, rubbing my nose and taking my dismissal graciously. �If you didn�t have anything for me, I was thinking about checking out the farms, then talking to Mel and his people.�

�No, I�ve got this,� Lana says, waving me off to do my rounds. �I�ll see you tonight.�

I smile, hearing the unspoken promise in those words, my stride having a slight bounce to it that wasn�t there before. The gift for her was well worth the Credits, even if it did drain my funds.

�Can we help you?�

Polite or not, the question is obviously meant to dissuade me from wandering into the small strip mall. With its internal walls taken down and a short wall obstructing the parking lot, the strip mall no longer looks as inviting as its original architect envisioned. Which is the point, I�m sure. There are even a pair of guards standing outside the main entrance, mostly looking bored.

�Just wanted to check out how things are going,� I say, peering past the woman who stopped me.

The stout raven-haired woman steps sideways, hands on her hips as she blocks my view. Over her head, her Status says she�s KC Markowitz, a Level 21 Gunsmith. Absently, I wonder how she ended up with just initials for her name. I�ve never seen that before.

�I�m sorry. I don�t know what they told you, but this area isn�t open to the public,� the Gunsmith says, glaring at the pair of guards with displeasure.

�My name�s John Lee.� I flash her a grin. When she doesn�t get it, I add, �The guy who kicked out the Sect? Your boss�s boss?�

�Oh�� KC gasps. �I�m sorry. I didn�t��

�It�s fine, KC,� I say, waving toward the building. �Ben�s reports mentioned that he set up a gun factory and I was curious.�

Having started at the use of her name, KC draws a breath before nodding. �If you�d like, I can show you around?�

�That�d be great.� Part of my visit here is curiosity. Part of it is a desire to get more bullets for Sabre, though I�m not entirely sure these guys are up to the task. Which is the point of coming and finding out for myself, obviously.

�Well, we�ve got the workshop�umm, factory�set up in three parts right now. Outside here��KC gestures to the group of plastic tables covered by cheap pavilions probably looted from the closest big box store, where a few craftsmen move about��we work with the high explosives and other, ummm� volatile materials.�

�Isn�t that dangerous?� I frown, walking over. On closer inspection, I realize that the tables are cordoned off from each other with portable shield generators.

�Well, better than constantly fixing the walls inside,� KC says with a shrug. �We all carry multiple healing potions, and we never keep more volatiles out here than we can stand from an explosion. Those of us working with the volatiles have also either invested in our Constitution or have a Class Skill to reduce ummm� self-created mistakes.�

�Ah�� I pause at the nearest table to watch while half-listening to KCs explanations.

The individual is working on what looks like tiny missiles�mortar shells, perhaps�alternately pulling various parts apart, screwing parts together, putting the two-thirds complete item upright, and gently filling one of the four vials in the shell with a purple liquid. Once that�s done, he switches to filling another vial, this time with a red liquid. He continues doing so, adding different liquids to each vial, before sealing the vials with a glass stopper and screwing the entire assembly together. After that, he holds his hand over it, focusing while the product glows.

�He�s using a Skill to complete assembly. It�s called ummm� Assembly,� KC says. �If Sherman gets simple-to-assemble parts, he just screws and mostly finishes them then uses his Skill. The Skill finishes everything for him, making it a complete product. Like that.� She gestures, and I nod.

The glow around the shell is gone. In its place is a single smooth item, rather than the screwed-together contraption that he had before. What he does next surprises me.

Hands glowing again, Sherman waves his hand up and down the table, his movements centered around the mortar. He does that for twenty seconds, the area where his hand moves slowly growing brighter and brighter. Then suddenly, with a slight rumble of displaced air, another ten mortar shells cover the table.

�Wha�?�

�Mass Production,� KC says, shrugging. �All of us have it. If we don�t get it as part of our Skill tree, we buy it from the Shop. It can only be activated within five seconds after you�ve completed your most recent work, but it lets the System generate even more copies. There are a few variations, including a channeled version like what Sherman has and a single-use Skill like mine.�

�Wow�� I say, blinking. That�s amazing. Then again, it�s taken Sherman about five minutes to produce eleven shells. And as I watch, Sherman slowly puts together the other piece, his movements slow and careful.

�Check out his Mana level, boy-o. He�s nearly out. So each cast takes about ten minutes to finish eleven.� Ali grunts. �Not horrible for a Basic Class, but not great.�

And of course that explains why hand-crafted projectile weaponry is so expensive. Each of his shells does high-explosive, flaming damage over a range of ten feet on impact, but only a base damage of 53. Not great. If he was making bullets, I could see why it would cost multiple Credits to buy even a single bullet. Still, it�s better than the single-digit damage levels of non-System generated weaponry.

�So outside, we have the volatiles,� KC says, continuing her initial conversation and leading me into the open doorway. �Inside, we�ve got the basic, solid-shot projectiles. Everything from basic armor-piercing weaponry to just bullets like I make. Then there�s the warehouse section, where our runners put the finished product and we take inventory.�

I nod, listening to KC as she guides me around, showing me the place. It doesn�t take long, even with introductions to those who look interested.

When we finally get to the warehouse and KC finishes her spiel, I turn to her and hold out a single projectile. From the looks of it, KC�s probably my best bet. �Are you able to make this?�

�Ummm�� KC frowns, staring at the projectile as she turns it around in her hand.

It looks a bit similar to our own bullets, physics�basic physics, at least�not changing much. She pulls a small pair of plyers from her tool belt and pulls apart the backend with a twist, brows furrowed. After a minute of silence as she continues to tap and play with the projectile in silence, I clear my throat.

�Oh, right. Sorry. No,� KC says, shaking her head. �I don�t have the blueprints for it. I�d need to get that first or research it. It doesn�t look hard�� KC taps one edge before casually tossing a part onto the concrete floor. It explodes with a small puff of smoke, shattering the concrete and making me jump slightly. No one else even flinches. �Nice reagent� I think� yes��

I cough, bringing her attention back to me.

�No. Can�t do it. Don�t have the materials. I could cobble something together with what we have in a few weeks once I�ve researched it, but it wouldn�t be as good. This is very nice work.�

I sigh, nodding. For all the advantages of owning a settlement, getting free bullets doesn't seem to be one of them. Not yet at least.

�Can I keep this?� KC says, holding up the pieces of the projectile.

�Sure,� I say, shaking my head.

KC grins, walking away while muttering to herself as she stares at the projectile, abruptly leaving me alone in a warehouse filled with ammunition.

�Well done, boy-o. A real charmer you are.�

I grunt, shaking my head, and walk out. Best get to my next project.

I knock on the door of the apartment building gently�mostly because I spotted the pair of high-explosive mines hidden in the wall. Between that, the surveillance cameras, a shield enchantment, and probably a few more toys I haven�t seen, this building is probably the most well-defended in the city. Which isn�t surprising, considering who lives here right now.

�Redeemer,� the Hakarta greets me, his face solemn. I notice he�s standing almost at attention. �Is there a problem?�

�No, no problem,� I say, frowning. �Why would you think there�s one?�

�I did not. Are you here to speak with the lieutenant then?� the Hakarta says.

�Well, I�� I consider my answer and finally nod. It�s obvious the private I�m speaking to would prefer I speak with his boss. �Yes. Please.�

�Very well. I shall lead you to him,� the private says, letting me in before closing the door and resetting their security precautions. After that, he leads me upstairs a couple of floors and to a corner apartment, where he knocks on the door before gesturing for me to stand to the side. �Wait here please. I shall inform the lieutenant.�

Once the lieutenant is informed, it takes only a minute to get the formalities out of the way, leaving me with him in the comfortable living room filled with a beige L-designed couch and lounging chairs. I absently note that all the family photos are gone, stacked in a corner, while the Hakarta reside here for now.

�How are you doing, lieutenant?� I say.

�We are well. There are no complaints, sir,� Lieutenant Nerigil says. �Major Ruka briefed us on what to expect beforehand. And your� commander is competent and willing to listen to suggestions.�

�Good. Very good,� I say, nodding. �I understand he�s got you guys on guard duty mostly?�

�Yes. Our contract only extends to the direct defense of the town. While it could be argued to include the hunting of your harassers, it was decided that our strength was better used in town, providing guard services and occasional training companions,� the lieutenant answers stiffly. �If that is acceptable, Redeemer.�

�Oh, I�m not here to meddle,� I say, waving away his words. �I�m actually just checking in on you guys. Making sure none of my people have started fights because you� well��

�We look like your orcs.�

I cough, nodding slightly with embarrassment.

�It is understandable. My people�s major occupation does place us in an antagonistic position with most settled races. We have fought against, and fought for, most races. It is no surprise that the Mana Leakage you experienced cast us as a warlike race,� Lieutenant Nerigil says.

�Ah� I�m glad you understand,� I say, smiling. The lieutenant nods and I get up before shaking his hand in farewell. �Well, I won�t bother you on your day off anymore. I just wanted to make sure you guys are doing well.�

�Our comfort is well within the parameters of the contract,� the lieutenant confirms and sees me out.

It�s only when I�m out of the building that I realize he never did say if his people had gotten into any fights over our impression of them as orcs. I turn around to knock again, a bit annoyed at being blown off like that.

�Leave it, boy-o. If he didn�t want to say, that�s his problem. You did your part.�

�But...� I feel guilty. For what? The entire human race? For racist or idiotic assholes? Maybe it�s the Canadian in me that feels the need to apologize.

�Leave it. You�ve got your own battles to fight.�

I sigh, giving up. Ali�s right. I�ve got a lot more work to do, more people to check up on, more training to conduct. More Levels to gain. A few hurt feelings and broken noses, if there are any, is something I can leave for others.

Chapter 13

It�s been eight days since we returned from Vernon. The refugees have settled down, mostly, with many taking part in the development of our city. It helps that there�s enough vacant real estate that rent is still incredibly cheap. Even if large swaths of space are owned by me directly, there just aren�t enough people to actually populate most of the locations. The small increase in population barely makes a dent.

Eight days and the Sect has not stopped launching probing attacks. Current consensus is that they don�t have the manpower to actually take Kamloops�at least not without losing more people than they�d be willing to risk. Between the Hakarta, my team, and the combat Classers from Kamloops and Vernon, we�ve got a sizeable force in an entrenched position. While we don�t have the resources to upgrade the town as much as I�d like, our defenses do give us a bit of an edge, especially since Benjamin is working on the approaches. Some of the things that mind of his has come up with are nasty. And innovative. Still, letting the Sect past our shield is the last thing I want to do.

Mel has been keeping our combat teams sweeping out to the south of the Thompson River to harry our attackers, the group playing hide-and-seek in the lands around. Between Class Skills, technology, and forested areas, the hunting groups are just as likely to stumble across an opponent by chance as find them with Skill. It does mean that we have the north of the river to continue to run hunting and Leveling though, which is nice. It allows some groups to Level in more controlled environments while others gain experience in real combat. Like everyone else, I�ve been sneaking out to Level too, making use of my greater Constitution to squeeze in grinding sessions late at night and in the early morning. Unfortunately, stuck as I am at Level 39, the monsters available are a drop in the bucket.

My musings, mostly procrastination as I go through the morning mail from Kim / the Settlement is interrupted by a call.

�John.�

�Mel. What�s wrong?�

�We need you at the gates. There�s� something weird. We�ve got the shield up just in case, but you�ll want to see this.�

�On my way,� I say, dismissing the notification and heading out.

It takes me only a few minutes to arrive on Sabre and I find myself joining Mel and Mikito and another teenager at the edge of the settlement shield, staring through the shimmering force field at the blood-covered sole survivor of a group. As I walk up, the exhausted brunette outside the shield looks up, eyes locking with mine even as she cradles her stomach.

�You�re here,� she says with relief.

�I am�� I glance at Mikito and Mel. �Why aren�t we letting her in?�

�She�s got a weird Status effect,� Mikito replies.

I actually look at her and her status, noting the woman�s injured condition and another that I�ve not seen before. Blood Vector.

Carla Flowers (Level 28 Wisp of Flame)

HP: 44/490

MP: 210/210

Conditions: Injured, Blood Vector

�Class Skill. She�s infected. If we let her in, she�ll explode and spread the disease to everyone else. As it is, she�s dying,� Ali explains. Even as he speaks, I see her health drop a little.

�He let me go,� Carla Flowers says softly. �After he killed all of my team. My friends. He took his time, pinned me to the ground while he cut them apart, again and again. Said that he wanted you to know who is killing us.�

�Who?� I say.

�Utrashi Wyt,� the survivor answers, her voice coming out softer, weaker. �Promise me. Promise me you�ll kill him.�

I grit my teeth, rage flaring. I walk forward, stopped only by the shield, as I meet her eyes filled with pain, despair, and rage. Her hazel eyes are filled with the knowledge that she�s dead already and won�t be able to enact her own vengeance.

�I promise. I�ll cut his head off.�

When she hears my promise, Carla smiles slightly. She raises her hand, calling forth her Mana, and fire comes, so hot and so fast that she probably doesn�t feel it. Much. Mikito lurches forwards for a second and then stops, held back by the shield and good sense. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stranger standing next to Mikito step backward, face pale before turning away and refusing to watch. Mel�s lips tighten but he doesn�t look away. Neither do I.

I watch her burn until there�s nothing left of her or her equipment. We watch in silence, my stomach churning with the acidic knowledge that I can do nothing but witness her death.

Only when it�s done do I speak. �What happened?�

�The Blood Warrior�Utrashi�was hiding in the group they attacked. Just waiting for them,� Mel says, shaking his head. �My fault. I should have expected something like that. We�ve been seeding the beasts and Mikito among the hunter groups. Should have realized they might have done the same.�

I turn to Mel, my eyes glowing with anger. His fault. Her death, their deaths, was his fault. I open my mouth and Mikito steps between us, the tiny Japanese woman craning her neck upward to meet my eyes. The teenager shifts slightly too, his hand falling to the katana at his side. I glance at Mikito automatically and she stares at me, daring me to speak.

�Not your fault,� I grate out, not needing Mikito�s reminder. I�m angry, but I understand we make mistakes. For that matter, any of our groups without Mikito in it probably would have died too. Even one with the pets. �Mikito, we should let Lana know. Her pets��

�Already done. We�ll group her pets up more, keep them in tighter groups,� Mikito says, understanding my hesitation. Neither of us wants Lana to lose another pet. For all her strength now, she�s still somewhat emotionally fragile from losing her brother.

�Who�s the kid?� I tilt my head sideways.

Mikito looks uncomfortable for a second before her face turns placid again. �This is Lee-kun. I�m training him as an Aonisaibushi.�

Lee turns to me, bowing slightly, and I have to keep my face from twitching. It�s weird to see a blond-haired, blue-eyed teenage male bowing while wearing a katana.

�Aoni�� I give up. Mikito said it so fast and fluently, I had no chance of repeating it after her. �That was your Class before, no?�

�Yes.� Mikito nods.

�You can give it?�

Mikito glances at Ali, who sighs, looking at me.

�Not exactly. With certain prestige Classes, you can train others in it. Not all Classes, and not all people, but if you managed to achieve a rank higher than the one you�d like to train, it�s possible,� Ali explains. �It�s still no guarantee the kid will be able to get it, but it makes it possible.�

�I can only take three apprentices at a time,� Mikito says, waving at the kid.

I nod, noting that his Class hasn�t changed from Artist yet, which I assume means he�s still learning under her. Still, knowing Mikito�s Class, I can see how upgrading someone could be useful.

�Drawbacks?� I say. There has to be some.

�Experience. He doesn�t lose his old Class. This one just replaces it eventually and he restarts at Level 1. However, his experience requirements to go up to Level 2 are the same as his previous level,� Ali explains.

I can see how that�d suck, but with his Level only at nine, the kid isn�t likely to be hurt much by this.

�Thanks,� I mutter to Mikito for her explanations. Then I turn to Mel, who was patiently listening. �All right, tell me what you plan to do about this.�

Later that evening, Lana finds me lying down in the old office leading into the core room, staring at the ceiling. Ali�s disappeared, driven off by my silence and grumpiness. I never bothered to replace the furniture in here, so lying down is my best option. It�s not even dirty�the building modifications keep the floors and ceiling so clean you could eat off them.

�Missed you at dinner,� Lana says, taking a seat across from my prone form, sweeping aside a discarded chocolate wrapping paper. The timer before it gets absorbed runs out a few seconds later and the wrapping paper dissolves into nothingness. Such a useful feature, though some people turn it off as they don�t want to inadvertently lose something important.

�Didn�t feel like the company,� I say, continuing to stare at the ceiling.

�Brooding?� Lana says, a half-smile on her face.

�Thinking.� A shred of self-honesty forces me to admit, �Maybe brooding a little. Labashi mentioned we should be on the attack. Throwing them on the defensive, rather than stay on it ourselves. We failed, rather spectacularly, at trying that the last time.�

�We couldn�t just leave the refugees in Vernon,� Lana says pointedly.

�Really?� I say, frowning. �I don�t think that�s right. We could have passed right through the town, hit the Sect in Kelowna like we�d planned, or at least met their planes in the air. But we decided to stop, take the town because it was offered to us, and we fell for their trap. Then we lost people trying to cover the civilians rather than concentrating our forces and hitting them hard. We might have killed that Rock Thrower in Vernon, but we should have finished off that Blood Warrior.�

�You�re saying you�re regretting saving their lives,� Lana says warningly.

�I know. But if we had hit them hard, focused on killing their people rather than playing defense, maybe they�d have gone on the defensive too. If we�d pressed the matter, left the civilians to evacuate themselves and pushed against the Sect�s forces��

�You don�t think they�d have sent more help?� Lana says.

�I don�t know.� I exhale roughly, shaking my head. �I�m not a general. No tactician. I just wonder if we could have done something else. And now, we�re here. We�re back to playing defense when they were meant to be on defense. It can�t last. The Sect must be sending people over, or consolidating their people, or something.�

�So you want to go attack them again?�

�Yes. But we�ve got to keep the city covered too. The Hakarta aren�t enough, not anymore. Not after the losses we suffered early on. And we can�t afford more,� I say, shaking my head. �That means keeping the team here. They�ve moved enough people up that if we left, they might be able to take the town. Maybe do some real damage��

�Worried they might destroy the town?� Lana says softly, concern in her voice.

�Yes. They�ve shown they�re willing to kill civilians, and while it might be frowned upon, it�s not entirely taboo. No UN here to stop them. Not that it did much good in our world��

Lana sighs, squeezing my hand, and I return the squeeze. The losses during the fight weighs on all of us, even if we�ve had experience losing people. Too many empty homes and abandoned buildings on our trip down, too many people we couldn�t help, no matter what we did. For all that the System has changed us, we�re still human.

After a moment, Lana lies down, resting her head on my stomach, and holds out a hand to me. I frown, then pull a chocolate and hand to her. We lie in silence, ruminating on our losses and what we can do. Still, with her silent presence, it doesn�t seem as bad.

Alarms, deep in the night, wake me from dreams I�m thankfully unable to remember. I jerk awake, staring at shrill noise, as Lana does the same. Without asking, Ali�s already displaying a map, showing the attack on the settlement�s Shield.

�Who is in charge?� I say, hands flicking as I pull clothing from my storage and dress.

�Not sure. Mel and Mikito are asleep,� Ali says, frowning. �Ah� Leopold.�

�Who�s he?� I say, glancing at Lana.

She�s already up and dressed fully. She gives me a nod, moving toward the door and leading the way to the attack.

�One of the residents. Has some prior military experience, which is why he was chosen,� Ali says, eyes flicking as he reads his screens. �He�s ordered the hunting parties to converge. Should we countermand the order?�

I grunt, staring at the cluster of dots. Just over sixty Sect members with some assault vehicles are opening fire, hammering the settlement Shield. Not enough to take it down immediately, but if we leave them at it, it�ll go down in four or five minutes. On the other hand, we�ve only got two hunting parties�ten people�out there, and who knows how many other hidden attackers are on the Sect�s side. For that matter, I�m curious how they got in so close without alerting us. Behind the Shield, the guards are gathering, over thirty of them already there and more streaming in.

�Let them close in but don�t engage. They�re dead if they do,� I say, rubbing my chin. �Can the beam weapons help?�

�A little,� Ali says, shrugging. �They�re still liable to be destroyed the moment you open the shields.�

�Damn it,� I growl, running down the streets. We really need to figure out a better option for those guns. �Patch me in to Leopold.� Once Ali gives me the thumbs-up, I say, �This is John Lee. What are your plans?�

�This is Mel. I�ve taken over for Leopold,� Mel says. �Once we get a critical mass behind the shield, we�ll lower it and hit them hard. Everyone has been given specific targets. Our goal is to kill as many as fast as possible.�

Too bad we can�t continuously raise and lower the shield. It�d give our people even more of an advantage. The shift costs a lot of Mana, and if we did that, we�d weaken and eventually destroy the Shield ourselves.

�Are we sure it�s only this group?� I ask.

�Drones are already sweeping the rest of the field, and we�ve got guards on all the other entrances. We�ve got it covered,� Mel says.

�Lana and I are nearly there,� I inform Mel, only half-seeing the shadowed streets we run through. Without a main generator, each building is left alone to generate its own electricity and lighting, which means the streets themselves are intermittently lit by residual lights.

As we turn the corner, the bang, crackle, and hiss of weapon fire and Class Skills can be heard. Our beam weaponry opens up as well, automatically adding their own damage.

�Hold fire,� Mel orders a couple of seconds later.

No surprise that a lot of shots go off even after the command, the order having to be repeated again and again. Mel and a few others growl and curse out the shooters half-heartedly, obviously more concerned about what they can see. As I near, I frown, noting how all the enemy dots have disappeared from my minimap. That doesn�t seem right�

Rather than ask a stupid question, I jump onto the short wall that we use to give our people elevation for the attack. The scorched and broken earth is testament to the damage dished out by the group around me, but rather than bodies, there are but a few broken automated weapon turrets.

�Ali�?� I say, unsure of what is happening.

�A FLUCTUATION IN THE DATA PROVIDED BY THE SYSTEM WAS NOTICED ONCE ATTACKS IMPACTED. IT IS LIKELY THAT A CLASS SKILL WAS USED TO PROVIDE FALSE SENSOR INFORMATION,� Kim flashes to me. �IT IS CONJECTURED THAT THE SAME INDIVIDUAL HID THE SECT�S APPROACH.�

�And the damage to the Shield?� I frowned.

�DELAYED. ON ANALYSIS, ACTUAL DAMAGE WAS DONE A MINUTE BEFORE BUT WAS RELAYED TO OUR SENSORS LATE.�

�You can do that?� I say, blinking. What kind of insane Skill is that?

�YES.�

�This has got to be the work of an Advanced Class. I�ll do some research, see if I can dig up what Class Skills and Classes this might be, but don�t hold your breath. There�re a million options in the System for anything you can think of.�

�Where are they now?� Mel asks, obviously having received the same information. I don�t see them on our sensors, which is disturbing to say the least.

�UNCERTAIN.�

�Pull the hunting groups back,� I order Mel. If those sixty Sect members�which I can�t even be certain of anymore�meet ours, they�d wipe out our hunting groups in no time flat. Better to pull back right now.

�What�s the point of all this?� Lana growls, her hair a frazzled mess.

�They�re attacking our morale,� Mel says, waving at the puzzled people around us.

Most look confused, a few looking enlightened as Kim�s analysis trickles down. More than a few are annoyed, some thrilled as they boast about driving them off.

�Doesn�t look that way,� Lana says, and Mel snorts.

�Not right now. But if I�m not wrong, they�re going to start doing this every night. Maybe more than once a night. It�ll go from annoying to dangerous because we�re going to have to keep people on watch all the time.� Mel sighs. �The Afghanis used to shoot mortar rounds into our camp randomly. You could never really relax.�

�Recommendations?� I ask, looking outward.

�Not much,� Mel says. �We can up our hunting groups, hopefully figure out how many they�re actually sending. If we can counter them on an attack and actually make them bleed, that�d be best. But��

�They�re likely to be waiting for that,� I say, grimacing.

Mel nods. �We�re also trying to protect a whole city, so our perimeter is too large. Maybe after a few weeks, if there�s a pattern, we can get Ingrid or some of the other teams out. But until then, there�s no guarantee we�d be able to find them.�

�Will they be back tonight?� I ask, and Mel shrugs. �I�m headed back to the Core. Maybe there�s something we can find�� I wave goodbye.

Lana indicates that she�ll stick around a bit, which leaves me walking alone even as Mikito and her apprentice come strolling up.

�Kim, this information distortion, can we do something about it? Get better data?� I ask out loud.

�BASED UPON CURRENT FUNDS, THERE IS ONLY A 34% CHANCE FOR US TO UPGRADE SENSORS TO REMOVE INTEFERENCE.�

�How much would we need to spend to do even that much?�

�ALL OF CURRENT CREDITS AVAILABLE.�

�Bad odds,� I say, shaking my head. �Forget that for now. What else can we do?�

�MANY THINGS. WHAT ARE YOUR OBJECTIVES?�

I growl, annoyed at the pissant AI. Luckily, I�ve got a Spirit who knows how to handle these things.

�Bits-for-brains, we�re dealing with the attacks. What can we do to make it less annoying? Or hurt them when they attack us?�

�CURRENT DAMAGE OUTPUT BY ATTACKERS WILL REMOVE SHIELDING IN FIVE MINUTES, TWENTY-THREE SECONDS OF CONTINOUS ATTACKS. WE HAVE SUFFICIENT CREDITS TO INCREASE RECHARGE RATES OF THE SHIELD TO INCREASE TIME REQUIRED FOR SHIELD FAILURE.

�WE MAY ALSO UPGRADE THE SHIELD TO ALLOW SINGLE DIRECTION FIRE, ALLOWING SENTRY TOWERS TO ATTACK IN RELATIVE SAFETY. ADDITIONAL ATTACK METHODS MAY BE PURCHASED, INCLUDING INDIRECT ARTILLERY FIRE, FROM THE CENTER OF THE CITY. LASTLY, WE MAY PURCHASE A SETTLEMENT ENCHANTMENT TO REFRACT A PORTION OF DAMAGE TO THE SHIELD TO ITS ATTACKERS.�

I frown, tilting my head upward. Even if I can�t see it, I know that the current shield is a dome. Indirect artillery fire would basically make a hole in the dome in the center. Of course, the Sect has shown that they�ve got airplanes, so that might not be the best idea. On the other hand, airplanes are at least easier to spot.

�Sounds interesting,� I say. �Show me.�

Tier IV Defense Shield Regeneration Rate Increase

Increases regeneration rate of settlement shield by drawing a higher level of ambient Mana.

HP Regeneration Rate: 250/minute

Credits: 1.98 Million Credits

Tier IV Defense Shield Upgrade�One-Way Fire

By altering the frequency and direction of the shield, one-way fire out of a settlement shield is viable.

Allows intermittent fire from inside to outside the shield. Must be activated.

Duration of activation: 5 Minutes

Credits: 2.5 Million Credits

Automated Tier IV Artillery

By connecting directly to the sensor network in a settlement, these automated artillery pieces can range up to 50 kilometers away (dependent upon sensor range).

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on ammunition)

Capacity: 5

Fire Rate: 1 per 5 second

Reload time: 30 seconds

Credits: 2 Million Credits

Settlement Shield �Bite Back� Runic Enchantment (Tier V)

Named by original creator Rqweervs Hivemate, the Bite Back Runic Enchantment absorbs damage done to a settlement shield and applies damage directly to its attacker. This Runic Enchantment comes in a wide variety of levels of effectiveness.

Base Damage: 2% of Damage

Requirements: 200 Mana + 20 Mana Upkeep

Credits: 5 Million Credits

I scan through the options, wincing at the cost, and pull up the Settlement information once again in short order. One and three-quarters million Credits. You�d think that anything over a million would be enough, but as I go up in Levels and deal with the town, a million has started to feel like pocket change. Unfortunately, with me wiping out the majority of the Credits earlier and the economy only just beginning to pick up, making millions of additional Credits is impossible. Frankly, it�s amazing that we�ve managed to earn as much as we have. Right now, we�re making roughly forty-five thousand Credits a day as a settlement, which might seem like a lot, but that includes all the rent, sales of Sect-owned goods like farm produce, and taxes we�ve levied.

My hand rises as I get ready to wipe out the options we can�t afford, then I pause. Not because I can�t really activate the purchases till I�m in the Core. Not because we don�t have enough money to make the changes matter. No, because I realize, once again, we�re reacting. Playing to their game.

My hand falls and I stare at the information, stopped in the middle of the street as my mind whirls with possibilities. A glimmer of an idea approaches me, skirting around my perception. Time. Space. Action. Reaction.

Even if I do take the steps I want to, need to, I�ll need to visit Sam and the Shop. But maybe, just maybe, there�s an option.

Chapter 14

There are things you do because you have to. There are things you do because it�s the right thing to do. And then there are things you do because you�re just good at them. However, what you think needs to be done and what others consider to be right are often markedly different. Once again, that thought was reinforced as I told the team about my new plan over our delayed breakfast.

As I sneaked along the ground outside of town, I recalled the arguments, the glares, and the less-than-happy expressions. It was one thing, at least to them, when Ingrid upped and disappeared. She was the Assassin, the scout, the rogue who did all those things. Sending her off from the city, even when we needed her to do some hunting close by, was acceptable. Expected even. She was the free spirit who flitted around. Me? I was supposed to stick around, help settle the refugees, and figure out purchases and defenses and all that crap.

Never mind the fact that I�m really not suited to all that. Or that there are much better people already in place. Even if I feel�I know�my greatest contribution is in the field, most of the others aren�t particularly happy about my choice. As I left, there were even some muttered comments about me regressing.

Truth is, they might be right. That�s the thing about the human mind�we can find justifications for everything and easily rationalize our decisions. In my mind, decisions like what to buy, when to buy, the optimization of our defenses and upgrading buildings and rents� all of that can be handled by others more inclined than I am to do so. Kim can run the math and guide the others on my overall goals. The council can do the actual work, and Lana can watch over them all. Mikito is better at handling and training each of the hunting groups, while Mel seems to have a handle on our day-to-day strategic fighting decisions. As much as I might dislike the older man, he�s doing a decent job so far.

In my mind, there�s nothing I can do that can�t be done by them. But none of them has my Class, my Skills, or Sabre. Of them all, I have the greatest mobility and punching power. Which leads me to traveling across the relatively open ground around the town, leaning on my stealth skills to find the hunting groups. I�ve dumped Sabre into my Altered Space, deciding that going unarmored is a better choice for now. Mobile as it may be, stealthy isn�t something I�d call Sabre in either mode.

Thankfully, the monsters around me stay away. They can sense the Level difference sufficiently to avoid me when they do pick me up, and I make sure to swing around them otherwise. Thus far, in the last few hours, I�ve yet to find signs of our potential attackers.

Which isn�t too surprising. The ground to the south of Kamloops is pretty flat and bare, more plains than forests for around five kilometers before they get hilly and forested again. In the end, my goal isn�t to head into the woods where I know most of the hunting groups stay or to flush out our attackers but to make my way farther south.

South, perhaps swinging by Logan Lake to the southwest a bit, but eventually making my way to Merritt. I might not be able to do as much damage as Sect can with their attacks, but if I can get close enough, when they�re not watching, I believe Ali and I can at least gather further information about our attackers.

Hours of sneaking and scouting finally elicit a result�a small group of alien creatures, only two of which are humanoid. It�s the weirdest group I�ve ever seen, including a nightmare fish-like creature in an oval liquid containment unit with tripedal mechanical legs; a flowing mass of yellow-cream tentacles and mouths; and a ram-headed, cat-like creature with an extra pair of hands. At least the two humanoids are mostly human, even if they are weirdly colored and something you�d see in Farscape rather than Star Trek.

�What are those things?� I send to Ali.

�Don�t see them much. The aquatic is a Pismeen, tentacle-goo is a Mohran, and ramses is, well, we�ll call them Satyrs. You can�t properly pronounce or hear its name, so we�ll go with Satyr,� Ali says easily. �Must be one of the Sect�s mixed hunter groups. It�s not uncommon for Galactic organizations to put the minority species together.�

I grunt. That�s something I�ve noticed, that groups like the Truinnar, Hakarta, or the Yerick tend to be single species groups. I guess when you�re the dominant power in your region, it�s easier and better to keep to a single species for your groupings. Which makes mixed species groups rarer since they are, by virtue, a minority.

�We going to bury them?� Ali asks after he finishes naming the other two species.

I ignore their names for now, already pondering my choices. �No. We�re going to stalk them. I want to see if they meet up with our midnight attackers. Tell me about the weirdos.�

I make sure to let the group pull away even farther, just inside my ability to track them. Even now, their markers are weirdly shaded in my minimap, Ali�s way of indicating that they�re there because I can see them and not because he�s getting the information from the System.

�Okay. Well, let�s start with the Satyrs. Firstly, don�t ever get into a drinking contest with one�alcohol actually doesn�t affect their bodies at all�� Ali begins.

I only half-listen, since I do actually have to make sure I�m not caught. Still, it passes the time and gives me a little bit of information about new species.

The next few hours are surreal, watching the enemy group travel across the map, doing their best to hide so they aren�t found out while at the same time looking for our hunting groups. Groups which I have full view of in my map. Twice, barring a hill and a particularly dense piece of forestry, the Sect nearly stumbles upon our people�and vice versa. I�m glad it doesn�t happen though, since it�d waste all the time I�ve already invested.

So strange to think of a simple turn left or being five minutes slower and what could have been. Then again, isn�t that the truth about our lives? Half an hour one way, a different decision, and our lives would be so different. If I had never gotten a cup of coffee on that Saturday, I might never have met Anne. Trace it back further�if I had gotten up when my alarm first went off that morning, I�d have had time to make coffee for the day. Without meeting Anne, I�d never have traveled to Whitehorse. Never gotten my Class. Never met Lana or Ali.

Small decisions, small changes, and the course of our lives could alter by such a wide margin. Every day, we chide ourselves for past mistakes, past actions, calling forth a myriad of what-ifs of times past. We might never know of the hundred thousand small decisions that might have changed our lives. Still, we reprimand ourselves for the decisions we make as if, somehow, we know the optimal path.

As evening comes, I watch the group peel away, slowly heading south. I wonder if they�ll finally bring me to my prey. Of course, it�s not that easy. Twenty kilometers from Kamloops, and well out of sight of the settlement, the mixed species group gets on the road and calls forth various instruments of transportation, pulling away at speed. I stare in amazement at the mecha shrimp, shaking my head at the weirdness of the System world. Mecha. Shrimp.

I take my time getting on the road soon after and following, knowing I won�t be able to keep up and stay hidden. A failure of some form perhaps. There�s something to be said about knocking out their people, again and again, killing even the small fry till they have no one else to send.

But�

Sometimes, you have to wait. Play the long game. Hope to get the whole pot rather than bleeding them for a few chips here and there. So I head down the road, staying to the shadows and waiting. Maybe I�ll find something. Maybe I�ll fail. But for the first time in days, I feel useful again.

The message from Mel later that night was exasperating in its conciseness and the news it provided. Another attack, launched at ten and again at two in the morning. In neither case did the individuals who launched the attack come via the road I was watching. Which meant that my presence watching the road was of little use.

Yet� negative progress was still progress. Or could you call it negative progress? Probably not, now that I was thinking about it. Which tells you the kind of thoughts that occupy one�s mind when you�re seated in a small depression overlooking a darkened road early in the morning after spending the entire day awake.

I�ll admit there�s a small chance that the group involved might have sneaked past me. But a Skill that could hide sixty individuals from the System�or at least their data from people drawing information from the System�was powerful. So powerful that it must have been upgraded quite a few times. A Skill that could hide sixty people from the System and from visual and other line-of-sight sensing at the same time was insanely powerful. If my understanding of power levels in Classes is correct, that�d be a Master Class Skill. And if there�s a Master Class Sect member out here, they wouldn�t be bothering with all this bullshit.

Which leaves me with the question of what to do now. Option one�return to the area around Kamloops and work with the hunter groups to locate the attackers. That�s the safe option, the smart one. Take out the attackers, give the settlement some rest. But it�s also likely the one they�re expecting.

The other option, the one I want to do, is to ignore the attackers. I know the group I stalked left for another area. Probably a staging area in Merritt or somewhere else. Hit those guys, make their lives miserable. But the moment I take out one of their hunting groups outside of their city, I�m also letting them know that we�ve changed tactics and I�m out here.

Doing so would call down the dogs of war. Which means I need to make sure that when I do act, it does the most amount of damage possible. I sigh, leaning back, and go back to watching the road, turning the thoughts over in my mind.

Hours later, I finally give up on locating any hunter groups on this stretch of road and look at my brown friend. I don�t have to speak, but there�re no monsters or Sect members and I�d like to actually hear my own voice. �Am I selfish?�

�Yes,� Ali says automatically, then pauses as he considers my question. �Yes. What brought that on?�

�Lana,� I say, remembering the accusation leveled at me.

�Ah.� Ali shrugs. �Don�t worry about it. You�re sentient. Outside of a few, rather dumb, races, we�re all selfish.�

�Thanks, I think.�

�Oh, come on, don�t sulk. What�s that thing you�re always muttering? What is, is?� Ali says. �This is the same thing. You�re selfish for wanting to go out and do this alone, because it gets you out of the city. Lana�s selfish for wanting you back in Kamloops, safe and with her. You�re both right to be selfish.�

�Greed is good?� I mutter, and Ali rolls his eyes.

�In moderation, sure.� Ali shrugs. �What, you don�t want to Level up?�

I grunt, thinking about that single Level I need to hit 40. All those Skills, all that power. Yes, I can admit it. I want to grow, to Level up. To become more powerful. And that�s greedy and selfish, but also practical and sensible and yes, sociable since I�m the bulwark for my group and town. �So� selfish. And greedy, charitable, and angry.�

�Or as I like to put it, sentient,� Ali says.

�Speaking of sentience�� I frown. �Why didn�t you recommend I buy a military AI? Or upgrade Kim to a military AI?�

�Probably because it�s a bad idea. You seem to think AIs are like your Skynet. They�re closer to the Machine.�

�The Machine?� I frown, raising an eyebrow at Ali, and he sighs.

�Person of Interest. Great show,� Ali says. �AIs are limited, both by the constraints placed upon them by the Galactic Council but also the information they�re able to ascertain. They�re only as good as the information provided, and you, my boy, are limited on the information you can provide. A good military AI needs a lot of information to function, to make the best guesses possible. It also needs to get trained to function properly.�

�Why?� I frown, shaking my head. �Can�t it, you know, figure out the optimal choices with what we have now? I thought buying the data stores gave it the training.�

�Not that kind of training. Look, let�s keep it simple. If I told you that we should kill all the ex-Serfs to remove the Sect�s objective for taking back the city, would you?� I glare at Ali, and he nods firmly. �Exactly. But it�s a viable, potentially even the easiest, solution. An AI might see that option, decide it�s the best option, and tell you that. Now, when you tell it no, you�ve got to explain why. Teach it.�

�Ah�� I tilt my head to look at Ali. �And how long does it take to teach an AI that?�

�How long�s the tapeworm?� Ali says. �Varies on the type, tier, resources, and how good you are at teaching and actually knowing what you want. With you? Quite a while.�

I sigh and nod. I can see Ali�s point and, on further thought, his point about lacking knowledge for the AI to actually make better decisions. It�s not as if we�re tapped into the Internet or anything, so the AI would be stuck with limited knowledge of the world. Unless we wanted to spend a ton of money purchasing information from the System, I can see how it�d be limited. It�s only because Ali is a linked Companion that he has access to as much information as he does. Even Kim is forced to rely on tapping into general System information channels and the information provided by the settlement.

For all his assurances, I am concerned about the AIs used by larger organizations. But since I can�t do anything about them right about now, I decide not to ask about it. I�ve had enough nightmares to last me for a while, and a galactic-wide, networked AI is one I don�t need.

After that, it�s a simple matter to continue my journey to Merritt. When dawn finally breaks, I�m situated on an appropriately far away and vertically dominant position to watch the tiny town. The hill I�m on is between the 5 and 97C highways, letting me keep an eye out for movement on either road�mostly via my map rather than visually�and also actually stare at the town itself. At this distance, and with my new Out of Class Skill I bought from the Shop and with Ali�s help, I should be safe. Once again, I read the Class Skill description for comfort than anything else.

Shrunken Footprints (Out of Class Skill Level 1)

Reduces System presence of user, increasing the chance of the user evading detection of System-assisted sensing Skills and equipment. Also increases cost of information purchased about user. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.

After the attack, I�d done further research into the ways they could have evaded our sensors. This, among many other Class Skills, was present. Some, like the Skills Ingrid uses, hide the user entirely�pure Stealth Skills�but are expensive to purchase as they�re normally restricted to their Classes. Many of them are active Skills, draining Mana from the pool immediately. While theoretically, with my Mana regeneration, I should be able to use some of those Skills, I�m also a direct combatant. Keeping up such a Skill seemed a bad idea, especially as constant use of an active Skill has deleterious side effects.

Others Skills, like the Shrunken Footprints, are less powerful overall but much more focused in their effects. And, obviously, cheaper. In this case, since I can rely on my real-world stealth skills, I just needed to reduce my System footprint. As it stands, so long as I don�t actively push matters, I should be pretty well hidden from casual scanning. Along with Ali�s help, we can even doctor some of the information given out.

Smiling at that knowledge, I turn back to the town spread out below me. Known more for a country music festival than anything else, the once-populous town is a ghost of itself. Not that I ever made it to the festival. Don�t get me wrong, I�m not against country music, but the thought of the press of humanity at such an event is enough to make me shudder.

Still, the city shouldn�t be as much of a ghost town as I see. For the last hour, I�ve seen maybe a dozen different individuals, most of them alien-looking creatures. Yet not a single human can be seen. This could be because everyone died, which, while unlikely, is possible. However, I�m leaning toward a forced evacuation or a group of citizens so terrorized they aren�t willing to show their faces.

Once more, I cycle through all the visual processing options available on my helmet. Infrared, UV, X-ray, magnification, none of it helps. The distance is too great, the buildings too sturdy to leak any details. I can�t even tell if the city is a Village or Town, a safe zone, or just a series of unclaimed buildings, divorced by our System overlord.

Frustrating. But I spend the time watching anyway, quietly building up a count of who resides in the city and how many. Scouting, because when and if I attack them, I want, nay, I need it to count for something.

Days. Watching, counting, planning. Days, while a trickle of information sent by Kim through the System keeps me updated. As expected, morale is dropping, the constant harrying attacks and the occasional fight and death doing nothing to help. Sure, we occasionally come out better, but without an idea of how many we�re facing, it just seems like a constant, never-ending fight. Even our Leveling parties to the north have reported being attacked, making progress ever slower. The Sect is wearing us down, containing our people until they are ready. It�s a siege, even if there are no catapults or entrenched lines.

Days of watching has seen some progress though. I know now how many Sect members are in Merritt�twenty-three�and I�ve even managed to figure out their groupings. By now, I have a firm grasp of the group�s schedule. I�ve seen how they always keep at least two groups at home, rotating who�s on hunt each day. On two occasions, a full group came back less an individual or two. In one case, I�d even seen them return somewhat cockily and, on that same day, learned that they had nearly wiped out an entire hunter group on our side. That was a bad day and I had to contain myself from rushing in.

Truth be told, I had all the information I needed at least a day ago, but I�d hesitated from attacking because I wanted to verify if this was a trap. The fact that they stayed apart, sleeping and leaving at different times, made it seem just too easy. After all, an empty town with only Sect members in it is somewhat suspicious. But however closely I looked, I just couldn�t see the trap. In the end, sometimes all you can do is set the trap off and hope to get out.

Resolved to doing something mildly stupid, I make my way stealthily into town after the second group finally left for the day. If they followed their rough schedule, a third group would leave at some point within the next hour, leaving two groups behind to rest for the day. That was the time I had chosen to act.

Hunkered behind a convenient house, I pulled Sabre from my storage and transformed it. I waited for a second, listening and watching to see if I had been found out yet. Seeing nothing, I started up the Temporal Cloak, beginning the process of sneaking in deeper. My forehead creased as I received no notification that this was a claimed city or town.

�Ali?�

�John. I love you too.�

�What�s going on with the town?�

�They sold the town key a few weeks ago. Probably at the same time they started moving people out. Data on the town activities dropped off around the same time in the System, so I�m assuming that�s the case,� Ali says, eyes flicking over notification windows.

�Well, that at least removes the town�s sensors from the equation,� I say, looking for a bright spot.

I kind of wanted Merritt. It�s a decent midway point, but with the key sold, we�ll either have to pick up each of the buildings individually or repurchase the town settlement key ourselves. Though that does bring up the question of why the populace hasn�t purchased enough land to keep it as their own. After all, as Ali pointed out, you could just purchase enough property to force the System to create a settlement for you.

Idle thoughts as I continue to carefully make my way in. I grunt, bringing my attention back to the rather important point of not being found out. While the Sect seems to cluster in the city center, that doesn�t mean that they won�t or can�t explore.

For all my caution, I run into little trouble until I�m a half-block into the historical downtown district. Historical like North American historical�so within the last hundred years�not European or Asian historical, which is within the last few hundred or thousand years. Stubby little commercial buildings from around the turn of last century make up the city center. The Sect members have taken over the Coldwater Hotel, each of them probably lounging in the equivalent of a suite or something. Not a bad idea really, since one of the upgrades in a designated hotel includes laundry and other cleaning options. Assuming someone purchased it, which I�d have done.

�That is purchased, right? Any idea about the upgrades?� I ask Ali since, well, I might as well.

�It�s registered. That�s about all that�s relevant available. Climate control, Mana engine and battery, sonic showers and plumbing, I could go on�� Ali says with a shrug as he floats beside me.

I�m not surprised. It�s not as if I�d make the security upgrades I�d bought available for people to learn. Unfortunately, that does mean I�m not entirely sure how strong those walls are.

As I ponder my next steps, I watch a humanoid reptile-like creature walk out. The sleek emerald-green Sect member strolls down the street without a care in the world, the morning sunlight glinting off the purple highlights of her body.

???? (Level 29 Warrior (?))

HP:

MP:

Conditions: Oblivious

�What�s with the question marks?�

�Don�t want to probe too deeply right now.�

Pulling backward, I make sure to stay hidden while checking the timer of the Cloak. I�m going to need to make a move soon�

Still, I let the Sect member leave on whatever business she has. If I were Ingrid, this would be the perfect time to kill her. Sneak up, backstab and mute the attack, murdering her in silence before anyone knows. But I�m not Ingrid and I have no Skills to mute the attacks or her call for help. It�s not like I could walk up and slit her throat like in the movies�the System�s interference makes it hard to kill another with a single hit. Not impossible perhaps, but hard. Better to let her go than risk losing the element of surprise against everyone else.

Once she�s gone, I proceed with my initial plan. All around the building, I quietly add a series of explosives. Since I don�t have any real skill in demolitions, I go with the tried-and-true method of using more rather than less. After all, I need to destroy both the building and the people inside. And if you think about it, I�m just returning the looted explosives. See, I can be generous.

Only when I�m done and on the building across the street, crouched low and under cover, do I relax. Thankfully, the Sect isn�t a military organization. Rather than having scouts, watchers, and a fixed timetable, the members lounge about and relax, obviously content to take their time off. It reminds me a lot of the Adventuring Guild in Carcross and their members, rather than Capstan and the Truinnar or the Hakarta.

Rather than pursue that thought, I trigger the explosives. Interesting thing to note about explosions�you never hear them until after the explosive wave front hits you, the air moving faster than the noise. In addition, once the explosion has finished expanding, there�s a secondary �pull,� as nature abhors the vacuum. Even with the explosives directed to send the majority of their blast inward and upward, what does escape is enough to batter poor Sabre�s shield and my meager cover. Look, as I said, I�m not exactly trained in demolitions.

�One down,� Ali announces even as I pop up, waiting.

The building across the street is gone, now a mass of System-enhanced wood, steel, and concrete. Fires burn around the building and against a few others that were caught in the explosion, small and not-so-small craters in the ground where the explosives were laid. If not for the System�s enhancements, the explosions would likely have done more damage to the Sect members resting within.

Even as I think that, the rubble moves. A strong, multi-armed, orange creature with a topknot shoves a column away, a pair of short humanoids following it. In a corner, red smoke pours out of the broken concrete, swirling in a circle. A few seconds later, a cone of ice erupts from the ground a short distance away from the smoke, a figure encased in it like a human tootsie roll center.

Before the group can fully recover their senses, the covers over my mini-missile launchers open and let loose. A fraction of a second later, my left hand rises and a fireball forms, flying outward. I don�t stop, repeatedly casting the spell as fast as I can. While I have a personal preference for Lightning Bolt, the group below is too spread out for that spell. At least, right now.

The multi-armed topknotted creature snarls, grabs a piece of intact rubble twice its size, and holds it up in front of its body as the missiles streak toward it. The twin humanoids duck behind the monster, curling slightly to shield their bodies against the explosions. All around, the Sect members defend themselves�all but an unlucky bastard who manages to dig himself out just in time for the explosion to hit.

High-explosive missiles send waves of flame and compressed air through the surroundings, throwing up debris and turning it into shrapnel. Moments later, my first fireball explodes as well, flames moving in an aborted globe that envelops those below. The second and third explode soon after, the Sect members doing their best to protect themselves.

�Three more down,� Ali tells me even as I unload another fireball.

But my sneak attack is over and the group is firing back. Spells, beam weapons, an acidic fluid, and more target me, hammering Sabre�s shield and then mine in short order. Rather than duke it out at range, I focus and Blink Step forward, hiding myself from the incoming fireball behind the mostly melted spike of ice.

�Owwww! Those spells hurt,� Ali sends to me as he zips forward, still invisible. �You could have warned me you�re leaving.�

Raising my foot, I pivot, my blade sinking into the Mage�s body. It exits through his shoulder, the severed arm flopping to the ground, accompanied by a scream of pain. Arming and dropping a grenade by my feet, I Blink Step away to Topknot, ignoring the continued complaints from my Spirit. Even as the grenade explodes, finishing the job of killing the Mage, I�m attacking Topknot.

Topknot is good. The knife that might as well be a sword in his hand moves with impressive speed, blocking my surprise attack and the follow-ups. We dance, trading blows, while next to him, the last humanoid struggles to its feet, body thoroughly cooked. No time to finish it though. Just enough time to take a cut to my leg as I plunge my sword into Topknot�s chest and end that fight.

�The third group is on its way. Twenty seconds,� Ali tells me, his short form swooping down to clock the cooked humanoid in the head with his tiny fist. Tiny or not, between momentum and the creature�s injuries, the monster falls.

�Good job!� I grin at the now-visible Spirit. Just in time to see him get smashed aside by what looks like a giant crossbow bolt.

Turning, I see the female reptile monster turning the corner down the block, running away with the crossbow held up toward her body. I snarl, thinking of chasing her before recalling Ali�s earlier message. Rather than wasting time, I jump away from the wreckage, my hands moving as I deposit mines all across the street. Some land on the ground, tripwires exploding outward and almost disappearing from view before my helmet highlights them for me. Others burrow away, covering their casings in the dirt as they await their chance.

�Three seconds,� Ali says, once more invisible and intangible. Still, as he floats beside me, his hand clutches his side where he leaks blue light.

�Thanks,� I grunt.

I stop dropping mines and spin around, pulling my beam rifle from storage and snugging it to my shoulder. The first Sect member to turn the corner takes a beam to his waist, the sight of melted armor and burnt flesh making an appearance as he gets cut up. He throws himself to the side, attempting to dodge the shots, but I follow him, firing again and again.

Bolts of red and green land around me. A massive metallic spike shatters against Sabre�s shield, and wind blades crack the shield apart. I take another shot, injuring the sucker before I skip backward, eyes dancing over the group as I take in their Levels. No names, just Classes and Levels. A mixture of combat Classes, most simplified to �Warrior,� �Gunner,� �Healer,� or �Mage� for right now, while their Levels sit in the high 20s to mid-30s.

I snap off shots from the Inlin and launch missiles in a more controlled fashion, backing off slowly as I weave through their attacks. Even with my higher Agility, the sheer volume of fire means that I get hit constantly, my Soul Shield crumbling every second. Still, I persist, luring them closer.

The first pair of warriors reaches the mines, explosions and gloop flying. One is thrown into the air, a chunk of flesh sliced off his foot from a razorwire. Another is caught in insta-concrete as he struggles to free himself and pull at his own flesh as worms burrow into his body. The Healer slows down before it can reach them, the mechanical-biological body pulling to a stop as it waves four-fingered tentacles, magic wrapping around its friends. The others, ranged attackers, keep firing, chipping away at my defenses.

Polar zone. I raise my hand, casting the spell, and the temperature around the group drops immediately. The next second, I trigger the sonic pulser, the teeth-clenching shriek throwing off their aim and making my attackers stumble. Ali darts into their midst, his invisible body glowing as he activates his Elemental Affinity, tapping into the vibrations and molecules around. I can vaguely sense what he�s doing, the way he�s enhancing�or perhaps more accurately, breaking down�the stability of molecules around us. A neat trick, something I�ll need to work on later.

Disoriented and under attack or not, the group refuses to run through the minefield. The pair caught in it are attempting to extract themselves, the Healer too disrupted to finish its spells at the moment. Rather than letting them take the time to recover, I call forth Enhanced Lightning Strike, my Mana already down to a third. Too much. While electricity arcs through the air and dances between bodies and the ground, I have Sabre inject me with the Mana potions it has stored. The tightness around my temples from an incipient Mana headache disappears even as my body feels refreshed, since the Mana Regeneration potions adds to my natural regeneration rate.

Natural. Har!

I cut the Lightning Strike spell off before it drains me too far, knowing I can�t afford to let it go on much longer. Instead, I dash forward into the mine field, continuing to target the Healer with the majority of my attacks. Ducking around the mines and making sure I don�t trigger the ones that don�t have a friend-foe sensor eats up time. My sonic pulser shuts down, no longer able to sustain the caterwaul, allowing the group to recover.

�Oh man, I was just getting into the groove,� Ali moans, his invisible Spirit body stopping its waggling.

The group is experienced, I have to admit. Hurt and damaged as they are, the Healer is drinking its own healing potions while the Mage slams his hands together, earth erupting from the ground to hide the Healer. As the Mage does so, the ranged attacker lobs a canister over the emerging wall, the cannister exploding in a brief cloud of dust. A second later, I get a new notification.

Nano Machine Pollution detected.

Mana Regeneration decreased in surroundings for 5 minutes by 31.4%

I growl, my prey out of sight, even as one of the melee fighters throws out his hand. A single silver needle multiplies until thousands of them fill the air, glowing with a malevolent dark red light. Without stopping, they bypass my Soul Shield and stab through Sabre�s armor into my fleshy body.

You are poisoned!

-13 HP per second (after resistances)

Duration: 00:0:33

Pain erupts from the needles, as if acid is spreading from the needles throughout my body. I snarl, noting the duration, and change directions. In passing, I throw a grenade at the twitching form of the stuck melee fighter, focusing instead on the one that poisoned me.

You�d think a poisoner would look, I don�t know, devious and evil. Slimy perhaps. What I see though is a flamboyant, thin creature dressed more like a swashbuckler with a colorful, patched half-cloak. Very humanoid-looking too, other than the single eye that dominates his whiskered face. Running forward, I throw a Blade Strike, forcing d�Artagnan to duck even as he throws a pair of spikes at me underhand. Those, at least, don�t pierce my Soul Shield, though the shield suddenly shifts to a sickly-green color.

Soul Shield Corrupted

-15 HP per second

�Boy-o, they�re retreating. And teams one and two are on their way back. I�ve got team one on my screen already. They�re making damn good time,� Ali updates me.

I snarl slightly, covering the last few feet as my damaged and worn shield finally gives way. I lunge forward, my sword caught and pushed aside by d�Artagnan using one of his spikes. What he doesn�t expect is for the sword to disappear, throwing his balance off just long enough for me to step forward and cut up, bisecting his abdomen and chest. Even as he screams, I conjure a sword into my other hand to finish the job, lopping off his head. As he dies, I swipe my hand through his body and dump it into my storage space, glancing back at the burnt and twitching body of his compatriot, the worms making a mess of my attacker.

�Remind me to buy a cure for those mines,� I send to Ali even as I run to put the poor man out of his misery.

The Spirit pops out of the earthen wall a moment later, flying toward me as he flicks a small screen up in front of me. The remnants of the group I recently engaged slow down as they link up with the second group even as the first group to leave town appears on the edges of my map. It�s clear that they aren�t coming at me piecemeal anymore, gathering together for safety.

�Can I reach them?� I send to Ali, wondering if maybe I can pick off a couple more from the consolidated group.

�The running group? Sure. But they�re likely to play for time, bog you down,� Ali says.

A quick glance at my Mana level and its hampered regeneration shows that I�m running dangerously low again. That�s why I chose not to use Blink Step earlier, knowing that the Skill is expensive. Better to save a little just in case I need to run.

�Recommend you get out of the nano cloud at the least, boy-o,� Ali sends as I dither.

Nodding, I jump onto the roof of the nearest building, using Sabre�s jump jets to help cover the distance. Not that I couldn�t do it just using my stats, but the jump jets and anti-gravity plates make it a lot easier. As I fly through the air, I refresh the Soul Shield, wincing as my Mana drops again.

�Time to go,� I say and suit words to action.

Better to get out of here before they gather and try to track me down. I might be able to win, but getting encircled by a group of Advanced Level fighters worries me. No guarantee they don�t have a plan to get some real players in. Without the QSM � my Quantum State Manipulator which lets me phase partly into another dimension - my options for running away have decreased, so better to draw this out and keep hitting them one after the other.

Anyway, I�ve struck my blow. Now for the next part of my plan.

Chapter 15

A day and night later, I finally relax. Sons of bitches had someone with tracking Skills on their side, so I�d been forced to run and fight against the consolidated groups, reinforced by another hunting group that didn�t originate from the city. While I had no idea which one of three I managed to kill in our last encounter had the tracking Skill, I was finally confident that I had lost them. Either that, or they�re laughing their asses off while I hide at the bottom of this lake.

Once again, I go over the gains in my mind. There�s something to be said about fighting multiple sentients�the experience gain is definitely better than what you�d get killing monsters. I�m now three quarters to my next Level and I earned another seventy thousand Credits. Sadly, most of the equipment I looted is less than useful�some mediocre personal weapons, some damaged armor, and the usual slew of Mana and Healing potions. However, there are a few interesting things.

Triffgits Leeches of Poison Neutralisation

Guaranteed to remove most Tier V and IV poisons if applied within two minutes of infection. Do not store in System inventory.

I stare at the tiny bottle of writhing leeches, my face twitching in disgust as I stare at the black-and-green creatures. They really do look similar to Earth leeches, though I�m promised they feed on poisons rather than blood. Still, I�d have to be pretty desperate before using these.

Q�saex Nano Swarm Grenade

This specially designed nano-swarm will not directly damage your opponents but will instead constantly reproduce, using the ambient Mana in its surroundings to multiply the swarm. This will reduce all Mana regeneration in the affected regions during this period.

Affect: -40% Mana Regeneration

Duration: 20 Minutes

�That�s dangerous,� I mutter, staring at the pair of grenades in my hand. I slip them back into the external storage locations for Sabre.

�Worried about your grey goo scenario? Don�t be. The nanites are programmed to shut down after twenty minutes. And even if they weren�t, the System would shut them down soon after,� Ali reassures me as he darts around the lake, chasing a few barracuda-looking fish. At Level 3, those things aren�t dangerous to me and supposedly make good eating.

�How sure are you?�

�Very. It�s pretty well-recorded that the System has defenses against nanite encroachment. In fact, a lot of studies show that the System hampers nano-machines and reproduction, along with out-of-control AIs,� Ali says.

�So I noticed it says forty percent here,� I say. Of course, it might be that the group all just had different toys, but this seems like something the team might have pooled money together to purchase as a group.

�Forty percent based off Galactic Standard, remember? We�re in a Mana-rich environment in a Dungeon World, so the effect is less,� Ali sends back.

�Right,� I say, listening to the echo of my voice in my helmet.

I draw another breath of recycled air and I swear, I can taste my own unbrushed breath. I know it�s psychological, that the helmet and Sabre�s environmental filters have removed it all, but I�ve been here for hours. Still, I force patience on myself again. Two more hours, that�s what I promised myself. Two hours and I�ll be out.

We forget how big Canada is, when the roads are perfect and the weather is great. While the weather today is nice�a warm summer day with a light breeze blowing�the roads themselves are a mess. There�s an entire stretch on the 5 between Merritt and Hope where the ground is a swamp, the road buried under murky waters where things reach out to grab at Sabre. I�m grateful I picked up the anti-gravity plates for the PAV, allowing me to traverse the sudden change in environment with ease.

When the roads are great, we forget the size of our country thinking that a three-hour drive is a reasonable thing to do on the weekend. It�s something more than one overseas acquaintance has pointed out, that the same amount of time would put you into a new country in many parts of the world.

But without roads, with monsters and enemies all around, what should have been a few hours� drive takes me days. Alternately, driving alongside the road, or in some cases, diverting entirely away, I find myself finally nearing the Lower Mainland. Not Vancouver itself, but Mission as I switch to the 7.

A part of me wonders if I�m entirely insane, going directly into the lion�s den. Of course, it is insane, but I�m banking on Ali and Shrunken Footprints to make it less so. Ingrid could do this better, sneak right in and stab someone to death, but she�s got her own job to do. Between my stealth Skills, the Class Skill, and my ability to run away really fast, I�m the best choice for entering Vancouver. Or at least, that�s what I keep trying to convince myself on.

Once I near Mission, I get off the road. Traveling takes longer off-road, since I have Sabre stored away and am on foot. I weigh the pros and cons of keeping on my skintight, high-tech armor and eventually go with on. While I�m not sure how many humans in this area might have it�certainly, everyone in Whitehorse took to wearing a variation of it as a matter of course�it�s black, doesn�t make much noise, and offers some additional passive protection. Rather than take that away, I just opt to take more time sneaking in.

Alleyways and side roads do well for me, leaving me with few encounters and none of note. Ali�s ability to sense others means that we can swing wide around potential problems long before they see us, leaving only a few low-Leveled monsters that we can safely ignore. Not that we see many sentients anyway, other than the occasional scavenger party breaking into abandoned buildings, looking for necessities.

Curious, and nearer to downtown Vancouver itself, I make my way into an abandoned office building, this one once hosting individuals that used to sell million-dollar shacks. There�s an irony in watching the very people that the realtors used to prey upon ransack those same structures. I watch the scavenger group through the windows, curious to see what they take. Food sometimes, jewelry of course, but more mundane items are common too. Toilet paper, menstrual pads, books, LPs, and DVDs are more common.

It takes me a while to puzzle that out. Consumables and jewelry sure, but the LPs and DVDs only make sense after I realize it�s culture. Music. Things we can�t get or produce anymore, that comfort in times of stress and uncertainty. A wave of sadness washes over me with the realization that we might never get another ZZ Ward, Meatloaf, or Whedon creation. All that we have, all that is made, that�s all we�ll ever have.

After a time, I push down the grief and focus again on their scavenged goods. In a nuclear war, we might be scrounging for oil and food, but here, food is all around us. Oil is useless since most of our machines are dead and Mana engines are so much more efficient. Guns�non-System registered guns�are laughable toys that barely affect anything other than the lowest Level vermin.

No, in this apocalypse, the most important resource is Levels. People create Levels, so people are important, but a single high-Level individual is still more important than a series of low-Levels.

�You know, the System is a bit of an elitist,� I whisper to Ali, rubbing my nose as I hunker down, watching the group on my map as they move to another building. This time, they�ve decided to leave someone on watch. When Ali sends me a mental huh, I explain my earlier thoughts.

�Talk in your head. And of course it is,� Ali says. �That�s the System for you. But don�t tell me you thought your society was fair either. At least with the System, you�ve got a chance to Level up.�

Rather than argue with Ali about the merits or demerits of democracy, I ask him another question that has been bothering me. �Whatever. Can�t change it, can we? Tell me something else. What�s to stop a really rich or powerful group from loading up on Shop-bought Skills, making them invincible?�

�Mmm� nothing? Or well, practicality, I guess. Obviously Mana regeneration limits the passives,� Ali sends, waggling his fingers. �And since you can�t really stack most Mana regeneration-boosting Skills, there�s no way to get around that. For the active Skills, you�ve got the problem of Mana pool to worry about. Easy enough to get a ton of different Skills, but if you can�t afford to use them, they aren�t much use. But yes, there are people who pack a lot more punch for their Level than they should have because they�ve bought a bunch of Skills.�

I slowly nod. In the end, those with money and influence have a head start, whether in the System or our old world. Add in the fact that we�re working a knowledge deficit compared to the rest of the galaxy, and us humans are at a severe disadvantage. But that�s okay. As my dad once said, even if you have to work twice as hard to be half as good, most people aren�t willing to put in the work to start.

What I see before me, from my map and the occasional glance out the window, tells the truth of that too. The Sect members I�ve fought are decent, smart and experienced. But compared to the human teams at the same Level, especially those from Whitehorse, they�re missing something. An edge, a drive, that we have. I can even see it in these kids, the way they move and scavenge. Come to think of it, the Yerick have it to a slightly lesser extent too.

If we survive, if we manage to make our way through the colonization of our world and not fall into despair, we might just do okay. To do that though, we have to have to our own areas of control, our own cities. And that means beating the hell out of the Thirteen Moon Sect. Settling comfortably again, I wait for the group to get moving so that I can get back on task.

My first big hurdle is the Pitt River. Rather than cross it along the actual bridge, I swing north for a bit, running in the dead of the night through empty streets till I hit an abandoned golf course. From there, I swim across the river in the early morning light and hide out in someone�s expensive and torn-up home. Whoever built the house was a fan of the typical West Coast design with lots of windows, which meant that when the monsters came, there was nothing sturdy to hold them out. I ignore the months-old signs of struggle, grateful that the scavengers have removed the bodies.

After that, I scavenge some old clothes. Blue jeans and a T-shirt with a goth girl with an ankh design on it replaces my combat gear. I keep the sidearm and a beam rifle though, wearing both out in the open, along with the combat boots. While the weapons might be a tad more expensive than normal, everyone�s packing these days. A quick discussion with Ali has him shifting some information on my Status. He can�t do much about the Level, but I now read as a Level 39 Guard. High enough to raise more than a few eyebrows, but at least to all casual scans, I�m just a Basic Class.

Working my way towards downtown Vancouver the next evening is easy. Making sure to come in with the scavenger groups means I�m just another dot on the Sect�s sensors as I walk in through the streets of Coquitlam. That�s the thing about the Lower Mainland and Canada. While we might have lost ninety percent of our population, Canada�s population has always been concentrated in a few major cities. Even ten percent of a million is a lot of people, and with all the towns around the city abandoned, the survivors have concentrated significantly. All those people need to hunt, farm, build, and otherwise improve themselves. Which means hunting parties, scavenger parties, farming groups, and more. The Sect might own and run the place, but they don�t have the numbers to check out everyone.

That�s the next thing I notice. Roxley had his guards in his livery to make themselves easy to notice. Policemen normally are noticeable; after all, it helps keep the rabble in line. The Sect members do the same here, mostly by just being different than us humans. It takes only a short while for Ali to point out that not every single alien is a Sect member though. After that and a bit of grumbling, he adjusts the aliens� descriptions. Now, every Sect member who publicly displays his allegiance�which is likely all of them�is marked above their heads via their Status bars as well. That�s good, because I really don�t want to kill an innocent.

It�s interesting to watch the reactions of the other humans to the other species. Few humans talk to them. Even fewer seem friendly with any of the aliens. Oh, some are worming their way into the Sect�s good graces by toadying up, but whether it�s because they suck at that or are just exaggerating for the aliens, picking out their motives is easy. But for the majority, the silent edge of resentment and anger is there in the sidelong glances and twisted lips when the Sect members aren�t looking.

Not that the Sect members are helping matters. Most act like the small-time bullies they are, giving a shove here, a shakedown there. Lording it over the humans wherever they can.

�They�re making this too damn easy,� I send to Ali, glancing at a pair of beast-like creatures shaking down a scavenger party. It also explains why most of the humans use normal bags rather than their storage. Though I�m curious how the Sect is stopping people from sneaking things in via storage.

�Auditors. They�ve got the ability to look into your storage, with your consent or without if they�ve got enough strength,� Ali says, answering the implied question. �Go right here. There�s a group of Sect members coming down the street who are looking bored. Better to skip around them.�

�Got it,� I say, sighing. I�m not the only one who does that, though most who duck out are ahead of me, I notice. Pissing off the humans they guard is definitely helping me blend in, since no one wants to meet the Sect members if they can help it. �Not many Serfs here.�

�We�re still on the edges. They�ll keep the Serfs close on hand. Don�t want them running away,� Ali says.

I nod, rubbing my chin absently as I assess the areas. Truth be told, so far, the city looks much like the towns I�ve seen. Windows and doors broken, abandoned cars rusting on the streets, occasional monsters popping up then hiding as they sense the Level difference. On occasion, a few utterly insane monsters attack and are put down. More cars of course, a lot more cars on the major roads, abandoned and useless, but I don�t stay on those byways much.

But in time, I spot the differences. The Mana flows in a big city are more concentrated and grow greater as I head deeper into the Lower Mainland. While Coquitlam might be a �Village,� it could easily be considered a Level 10-20 zone, with a few of the wooded parks and neighborhoods jumping up another zone level again. Monsters grow and populate around here, seeming to thrive on the unregulated flow of the city.

The blooming dots of monsters at certain buildings�the hospital, the campus, a weird strip mall�all speak to monster hives that haven�t been dealt with. Maybe even dungeons in the making. And then there are the occasionally destroyed neighborhoods, entire buildings wrecked in what must have been periods of intense fighting.

But no humans�at least none who have made it their goal to live out here. Which is surprising. I expected holdouts, groups settled into defensible regions, creating their own tiny communities. Instead, I see none of that. A few groups here and there stay alone, but no large settlements.

�Is this normal?� I say to Ali.

�Nothing�s normal. But if I were the Sect, I wouldn�t want an independent group all the way out here. Be really easy to put pressure, draw them in where you can keep a better eye on them,� Ali says. �And those who don�t� well, there are monsters out here.�

�Convenient excuse,� I say, grunting. Anger flares for a moment before I push it down. Not the right time. Still, a part of me burns at the thought of people being forced to give up the little stability and protection they�ve built for themselves, all to make the Sect members� lives easier.

�It�s kind of what you guys did too,� Ali says, sending a chiding thought to me. �How many towns and people did you drag back to Whitehorse or to the next safe zone?�

�I always gave them a choice,� I say, pointing out the major difference.

As much as I wanted to, I never, ever forced my choices on others. Even if it meant their deaths. God knows I wanted to. Especially for those idiot families who decided it was still safer to hang out in the middle of a monster-infested zone than to proceed to a safe zone because humans are evil.

Idiots.

They were so fixed on their beliefs that humanity is evil, that we devolve to our basest instincts the moment the lights go off, they refused to accept the evidence before their eyes. And doomed their children and themselves to struggling and fighting in the wilderness alone. Some days, I wonder if I should have just taken the children.

There�s no good answer here. Pull the kids away and I�d probably have had to kill their parents in front of them. I somehow doubt that would help them become well-adjusted, stable individuals. Even if I didn�t, who would take care of them? Do I drop them off at the nearest town and hope that there�s some kind soul willing to take in a group of traumatized children? It�s one thing for a government that, technically, has a series of methods to take care of such children. It�s another for my team and me to kidnap children because we don�t think their parents are doing a good job.

Yet� I can�t help but think about them sometimes.

�Getting late out here. You might want to get a move on it.� The voice, low and rich, breaks me out of my morose thoughts.

I blink, staring around, and find myself grinding my teeth, hands clenched while standing in the middle of the street. I blink, shaking my head. �Sorry.�

�Don�t worry about it. We�ve all been there,� the guy says, smiling at me kindly. He�s in his late thirties, a hint of wariness in his eyes as he offers me his hand to shake. Six feet tall, thin, with brown hair, he�s got a guitar slung across his shoulders and a bag by his feet. A quick check shows his Class and Level�a Level 21 Appraiser. �Damian.�

�John,� I say, shaking his hand. I�m glad he doesn�t ask why I was frozen in the middle of the street, but the way he looks at me sympathetically, I can guess what he�s thinking. All of us have our own nightmares.

�That�s Analyn and Jonah.� Damian indicates a short Filipino woman armed with a beam rifle the size of her body and an older, almost grandfatherly, man who seems to be their pack mule, carrying four bags on his shoulders. �You a hunter?�

�How�d you know?� I ask.

�No bags, so you�re not a scavenger,� Damian explains, pointing at my guns. �And those look like they�ve seen some use. Like you.�

�Pretty smart,� I say, smiling at Damian. I don�t move away, since I�m curious to see where he�s going with this.

�Get anything good?� Damian waves down the street, indicating we should continue walking.

I fall into step with him. �A little.� I shrug, thinking of the various random animal bits I�ve picked up from the monsters that have refused to leave me alone. It�s more habit than anything else that has me grabbing the loot, since the amount of Credits I�d get is pitiful. �I was mostly scouting this time.�

�Outside the Mainland? You�re either brave or stupid,� Analyn says then smiles slightly.

�Going alone lets me hide better,� I say, shrugging. �I have a few skills in that area.�

�Ah�� Analyn says, nodding.

�If you made a map, I know a few people who might buy it,� Damian says. �Good information about the land outside is hard to find. Everyone�s focused on the dungeon the Sect made in UBC and the new dungeon formed in SFU.�

�The UBC dungeon must be Town-formed. Expensive, but it�s a great way of focusing the Mana flow in the region. The dungeon northwest of here that they�re talking is natural,� Ali sends to me. �The places around here are all villages, except Vancouver itself, which is a full Town.�

I grunt in acknowledgement of both, letting my eyes roam over the area. We�re making good time, even burdened down with gear. The higher-than-human stats means a normal walking speed is nearly a jog pre-System, without any concern about running out of stamina.

Since Damian seems talkative, I probe him for information, just basic things. He�s more than happy to discuss the Sect, giving me a spotty overview of the city. I do my best to hide my ignorance, asking leading questions while letting Ali fill in the blanks.

As Ali mentioned, the initial period was bloody. Monsters, both mutated and portalled, showed up all over the city. A lot of people died, but things held together surprisingly well after the initial death toll as people learned to run, hide, or fight. Unlike Whitehorse, a number of really high-Level monsters had appeared, including a land drake that had taken the entirety of Stanley Park as its home. Even then, things had settled down, the local army and police managing to deal with the evolving monsters.

Unfortunately, the System�or maybe the Council�decided that wasn�t good enough and portalled in more high-level monsters in a single night. The devastation was amazing. The entire False Creek area, including the brewery and armory, had been destroyed, the Sky Giant finally dying under the continuous assault of hundreds. The land drake actually took out one of the portalled monsters when a multi-headed chimera was forced into the park.

The sacrifice of the fighters didn�t stop thousands from dying that night. That same tragedy repeated over and over again all across the city. Any major staging area had to deal with an attack by a high-level monster. At that point, resistance had been shattered and groups broke up into much smaller sections.

�Suspicious, no?� I send to Ali.

�Would you be interested to know that it isn�t a singular experience? In the same period, there�s constant sudden drops in your population�from such attacks, I assume. I�d need to buy the information to be certain but��

I keep my face neutral, continuing to listen to Damian, but a part of me growls. There�s a story there, and one I need to dig into at some point.

A week later, the Sect appeared and claimed all the cities of the Lower Mainland. According to Ali, they actually purchased the village keys nearly the same day they were released. Rather than improving the rest of the cities, the Sect focused their attention on Vancouver only, turning it into a Town in four months. Pretty much the entirety of the downtown is their exclusive property�outside of the Downtown Eastside, where some humans gather.

Unlike our smaller towns, quite a few Shops are clustered in the Lower Mainland. Each city has their own, with Vancouver having two�one in the art gallery downtown and another in the middle of Queen Elizabeth Park. Burnaby�s Shop is in the Metrotown which has a significant human presence living in the giant shopping mall and thus outside the Sect�s direct sphere of influence. Unlike the downtown of Vancouver, where most of the Serfs live, the mall in Burnaby is actually owned and run by free humans according to Damian. Well, technically rented mostly, but it�s close enough.

When I hear that news, I change my mind of where I intend to go tonight, deciding against a direct trip to downtown Vancouver. If I�m going to find out what I want, and potentially locate a safe place to rest, the mall seems to be a better choice. As we get closer to Burnaby, I notice more and more humans. Some of them are rather interesting too�

George Pierre (Level 19 Breacher�Sect Member)

HP: 380/380

MP: 170/170

Conditions: None

�Fucking traitors,� Analyn swears under her breath when she spots the group of five Sect members, each of them with a simple grey cloth with the Sect�s symbol on their arms.

My eyes flicker over them while Damian glares at the lady before he glances at me, concern on his face. I flash him a little smile but make sure to swing around the group. That action makes him relax slightly.

�Seems to be more of them,� I say to Damian softly.

�The Sect pays well, gives discounts on goods in the Shop, and if you join them, you�re immune to becoming a Serf,� Damian says, his tone neutral. �After they crushed the resistance, can you blame them?�

�Yes,� Analyn hisses while Jonah nods firmly.

�Dangerous words,� I say, my tone light. I�d love to ask about the resistance, but it seems a bit too obvious to duck into that question right now.

�Eh, everyone�s said it,� Damian says with a careless shrug. �No one likes them, but��

But it�s a way of surviving, and we all have a certain degree of empathy for each other over things like this. We might not like it or agree, but we can empathize. There�s been so much going on that a period of safety or comfort is attractive. Even if you have to sell out.

Having skirted around the human Sect-members, we head south. Surprisingly, the group follows me to Metrotown. Or perhaps not, considering the views they�ve expressed to me, a nominal stranger. Once we get past the rather foreboding warehouses and industrial complexes�many of which are breeding grounds for groups of monsters�we hit the residential zones. Those, as usual, are depressing lots, which is why we continue south at a jog. Conversations grow sparser and less useful, turning to the usual jokes and ribbing, which I eventually tune out.

Before I know it, we�re down at Kingsway, which runs at a diagonal to most streets with its multi-story retail stores, and only a stone�s throw away from the Metrotown mall itself. Surprisingly, none of the retail stores are owned�most shuttered, others vandalized and looted. I stare at the buildings for a second, shaking my head as happier memories clash with reality before I hurry up to follow the group.

If you�ve been to one shopping mall, you�ve been to them all, it seems. Or maybe if you�ve been to one mid-class, sprawling giant mall, you�ve been to them all. They�re all filled with brand-name shops, each segregated into their own little niches, with bright, artificial lighting and a food court or two with �food� that is, at best, barely edible. In other words, soulless and vapid.

Not much has changed, it seems. With the Shop located in what used to be a giant bookstore, the rest of the mall has been partitioned to make buying and selling goods easier. Rather than ask questions that might expose me for the stranger I am, I follow the group, playing as if I�m happy to continue chatting with them. Occasionally, I pull things from my storage to sell too.

Each portion of the mall seems to be taken over by different groups. We spend most of our time in the scavenger area, where �normal� human goods are bought and sold. While Spells are nice, dishwashing liquid, hair gel, toilet paper, and replacement sets of clothing are all still desirable. Sure, you could scavenge it yourself, but convenience trumps cost for most people. I don�t get a lot of Credits and the group spends some time haggling as prices fluctuate depending on what other groups drag in, but eventually everything is sold.

After that, it�s off to another part of the mall to sell monster parts. Interestingly enough, there are two sections, one for food and one for non-consumables. We hit the non-consumables first, haggling with various merchants who are only willing to buy a portion of what we have. This time around, I take a more active role, as my cover as a hunter means I should have more loot.

�You know, he ripped you off there,� Jonah says, shaking his head. �Five Credits for Creller teeth? You should have gotten at least eight each!�

I shrug, not wishing to comment. Ali looks unhappy as well, floating invisibly next to me, obviously itching to get involved. While it might be a break from my role, I just don�t have the patience to waste time haggling over a few Credits. A single good kill could easily replace all the funds I lose. That�s why I never bothered with it all in Whitehorse, leaving the money matters to Ali.

From glancing around, it�s obvious that many of the individuals buying in this portion of the mall are just middlemen picking up small numbers of lootable components for others. The way the various merchants perk up as the direct buyers wander along is an obvious tell, since direct buyers generally don�t haggle as hard. It also helps that I can see their Classes, which range from the mundane Toolmaker to the specialized Weaponsmith or Alchemist. Some are truly weird, like the Augurer and the Binder.

After I�m done, we make our way to sell the meat, which makes up the majority of what everyone has to sell. While monster components do form when we Loot monster corpses, the vast majority of the time, at the lower Levels, it�s just meat. Unsurprisingly, the food section is made up of the food court and a portion of the shops around it. There�s almost no haggling at the food stalls. Large cardboard signs hung above each stall state both what they�re selling and buying with the respective prices.

�Mrs. Cho�s selling her burgers again!� Damian says excitedly, eyes glowing slightly. �I�ll line up. You guys sell my share.�

�Done!� Analyn answers excitedly, taking his bag while shooting me a look. �You don�t want to miss her burgers.�

�Ummm�� I glance at the long line then finally nod to Damian. �Get me a half dozen then.�

In short order, we�ve sold the last of our gains�or at least, what I�m declaring as my gains�and retreated from the stalls respectfully.

�This place is crowded,� Analyn says, glancing around pointedly. �We�ve got a place in one of the apartment complexes here. Let�s go eat at home.�

The invitation is obvious. So too is the potential trap, but after a moment, I nod. Realistically, even if they triple the number of individuals involved in the trap, there isn�t any concern for me. Between Ali�s ability to sense things and my Level, running away is simple.

Once I agreed, the three of us quickly left the building to head to their apartment complex. I definitely had no intention of visiting the Shop here�for one thing, anything I bought would likely get taxed and the Credits added to the Sect�s coffers. Why the heck would I do that?

The pair of condo buildings is interesting, surrounded by stern steel walls that are obviously not part of the original architectural plans. On top of those, a series of small orbs sit, ready to unleash magical hell. Once inside, the building itself doesn�t seem very different, keeping most of its original design and furnishings, including the cream tile floor.

�Are you guys just renting the place?� I ask.

�No, parceled ownership. We own the apartment but have to pay into the general security fund. Votes on changes to our maintenance fees and major upgrades are all handled via the System, though there are a few administrators,� Jonah answers, obviously enthused by this. �Much better than a damn condo board. Anyone can propose a change with votes monthly. Of course, the administrators can block the proposals, but only three times in a row. Keeps the silly requests from appearing mostly.�

�Ah,� I answer, my curiosity more than assuaged.

However, my non-committal answer does little to slow down Jonah�s enthusiasm, and I get a whole lecture about the way the System works in terms of managing a multi-property location, the various options available, and the pros and cons of it all. I keep a mostly attentive expression to stay polite, but I can�t help but sigh in relief when Damian returns, hands filled with bags of food.

Toward the end of the meal�which, I have to admit, is superb�Damian�s demeanor changes and he looks unexpectedly serious. He puts down his burger, motioning toward Jonah, who pulls out a small device and taps it before nodding to his team lead.

�Where are you from? Really?� Damian asks, his face stern.

I stare at the group and absently note that Analyn�s hand is on her gun, which is pointed in my general direction. Not directly at me yet, but close enough. Jonah�s backed off too, his fingers rolling a small metal disc over his fingers.

�Whitehorse originally,� I answer truthfully. I�m curious to see where this is going. �But more recently, Kamloops.�

�We�ve heard about Kamloops. Even heard that you managed to fight off one of their invasion groups when they came to take it back,� Damian says, shaking his head. �You need to work on your blending in. You�re way too confident and assured of yourself for a local. No one walks like you do out here.�

�Except the delvers,� Analyn points out.

�Oh yeah, but we know who they are,� Damian answers.

�Delvers?�

�Dungeon delvers. The high Level, independent combat Classers. They�re forced to pay a high daily tax rate, so they have to do the Dungeons again and again to keep up,� Damian answers easily. �None of those guys waste time walking. They�re all about the luxury vehicles.�

�Doesn�t sound practical to me,� I say, shaking my head.

�Who�s talking practical? It�s not as if it�s expensive to get them fixed up,� Damian points out and shrugs. �It�s all about indulging in past fantasies. Who doesn�t want to drive a Jaguar?�

�Thanks for the information,� I finally say, considering what Damian said. Since I can�t alter my Status any further, sneaking in might be an even bigger task than I thought.

�Ask them why there are so few high-Level combat Classers that he thinks he�d know them all,� Ali sends urgently.

After a moment, I realize the Spirit�s point and pass the question on.

�Ah� that�s the other thing we need to talk to you about. Are you here to cause trouble for the Sect?� Damian says.

�I asked you first.�

�Are you a child?� Damian mutters, rolling his eyes. When I refuse to answer, Damian sighs. �We lost a lot of people a few months ago when the Sect put down the rebellion. Grabbed everyone involved, after they beat them, and shipped them all off-world.�

�What?� I say, my voice rising as I lean forward. I note Analyn shifting slightly at my sudden movement before she calms down.

�That�s why I�m asking your intentions. We can�t�we won�t�start a new fight with the Sect. We�ve learned our lesson�numbers don�t matter when they�ve got enough Advanced Class people to kick our asses. And every time someone gets close to reaching an Advanced Class, they disappear,� Damian says with a grimace.

�Technically not legal to kidnap people, if that�s what you�re thinking. But laws without people to enforce them are just bits in the electronic stream.�

�I do intend to do something about the Sect,� I say. I�m curious to see what they do. If they intended to sell the information about me, they could have done so already. And if this makes them decide to do it now, well, so be it. I could kill them, but they�ve treated me fairly well so far. �They�ve been attacking Kamloops non-stop for the last few weeks. If we continue to let them do that, they�ll eventually win.�

�What do you intend to do?� Damian asks, his eyes glinting.

I sigh. �Truthfully, I�m not entirely sure. I planned on sneaking in and figuring out what is going on before I acted. It�ll probably end up in blood and tears though. It always does.�

�Did you not hear the part about their Advanced Classers? They�ve got seven of them in this city,� Damian says sternly.

�How do you know that?� I say. Obviously, from the way they�ve been speaking, these guys can�t tell my Level.

�They told us. A friend of mine who�s an Auditor confirmed it. Seven Advanced Classes, six of which are combat Classes with Levels ranging from 14 to 39, and one non-combat Advanced Class Level 38 Administrator,� Damian says. �You can forget about stirring up trouble in Vancouver. The moment you do, they�ll kill you and then make it more difficult for the rest of us.�

�I�m not that easy to kill,� I say, both as a warning to them and a statement of confidence. I get a few eye rolls. They�ve obviously run into overconfident people before. �But thank you for the information.�

�You�re not going to change your mind, are you?�

�Not one bit,� I say, smiling slightly. Even if I look relaxed, internally, I tense up as I wait to see what they�re going to do next.

�No new figures around us. If they�ve called for help, it hasn�t arrived yet,� Ali reassures me.

�I assumed that.� Damian exhales, slumping. He rubs his face, fatigue and grief showing on it as he speaks. �They left those of us with lower Levels alone after the revolt. Just left us, even though they must know who we are. There might be hundreds of us, but we�re all in the twenties. That�s how useless we are.

�Anyone with a higher Level, they�re being kept at the Olympic Village at False Creek. Easy enough to control them. And even then, there�s only, like, fifty of them. They keep a couple of the Advanced Class combatants around them all the time, including a Summoner with his demonic dogs and a Warden.�

�Not a lot of you guys left,� I say neutrally.

�Not a lot. After the revolt, that�s when we found out how different things were. The entire downtown is theirs, remade into their world. They�ve got security cameras everywhere, and anyone who wants to go in has to wear a bracelet marking their identity. Their Serfs are all incentivized to tattle on anyone not authorized to enter the downtown, so we couldn�t sneak most of our people in. Even when we did, they�d upgraded the main library to have its own shield to keep the City Core safe.�

I open my mouth then close it, frowning slightly at what Damian says. And how he says it. I tilt my head, looking at Analyn, whose face is blank, and Jonah, whose face holds a trace of anger and resentment.

�For a guy who is complaining a lot, he�s giving me a lot of useful information,� I send to Ali.

�General deniability. If they know who he is, this way, he can still say he�s learned his lesson,� Ali says, looking at Damian and the group with a tinge of respect.

�That sounds tough,� I say, rubbing my chin.

�Har! Tough. Tough were the damn Advanced Classers. They had an invasion team during the revolt, including that Blood Warrior, though he�s out of town right now. His clones really messed with our groups. Then there�s the Psychic. Not much for area effect, but its spells one-shotted everyone it hit. Brain-blasted them till they all fell unconscious,� Jonah snaps, shaking his head.

�At least you didn�t have to fight that Bone Monster. It didn�t matter what we shot it with, we couldn�t punch through its armor. I�d upgraded my Penetrating Strike Skill four times by then and it still didn�t hurt it!� Analyn says, shaking her head. �And that Sect Enforcer was nothing to sneeze at. He switched between his rifles and other Skills easily, filling in the gaps whenever they needed him.�

�If they hadn�t been holding back to keep our people alive, we�d have had a lot more losses,� Damian says quietly, his eyes fixed on me. �You should give up and go back. Don�t bring more trouble for us.�

I sigh and nod, looking at the group for a moment more. �Thank you. For the food. But since we aren�t coming to an agreement on this, I�m going to take my leave.�

�You won�t last a day out there,� Damian says, his tone foreboding. �Just get out of the city.�

Rather than answer Damian, I smile and shake my head, walking out. None of the three move to block me, leaving me with my thoughts.

�Figure they�re going to sell me out?� I ask Ali while waiting for the elevator.

�They�ll probably give you a little head start, but I�m sure they will. You sure you don�t want to head back? We�ve picked up a bunch of information. And out of town, we�ve got a lot more advantages,� Ali says quietly, concern in his voice.

�We�re not done yet. I still want to take a look at the downtown. If they give me even an hour, I can get in.�

�And then what? They said it already�they�ve got surveillance everywhere.�

�Then we dance,� I say with a savage grin.

Chapter 16

No matter what people say, I�m not entirely insane. Foolhardy, short-tempered, and overly confident sometimes, sure. But not entirely insane. I don�t say completely sane, since well, I doubt any of us are entirely sane compared to pre-System standards. Though that does raise the question of if the standard of sanity has changed, with the �norm� shifting as we fight and kill for our survival.

Having been, quite literally, warned to leave, I was of course going to stay. I�d come to Vancouver for a few reasons, and I wasn�t satisfied with getting a partial complete on a couple of them. Firstly, scouting out the city was important. Sure, I could have bought the information, but there�s something to be said about actually seeing the changes. Never mind the fact that to buy the information, I�d have to know what kind of questions to ask and then pay for it. Cheaper and easier to visit and see it with my own eyes. Thus far, I�d only managed to make it to Burnaby which, at best, is a suburb. No, I need to visit Vancouver itself.

Secondly, splitting their forces is important. If they start fearing an attack in Vancouver, it means they�ll have fewer forces to devote to Kamloops. Us staying purely on the defensive would just allow them to concentrate whatever leftover forces they had. While my fight in Merritt had helped reduce and alert them, it wasn�t enough. I needed to make sure they stayed on the defensive.

Right now, I was very much like a chess queen let loose behind the lines. While I wouldn�t say I could knock out any single other piece without fail, given the right conditions, I was definitely a danger. That meant they could either let me roam and knock down their pieces or take active steps to go after me. But that only worked so long as I wasn�t cornered. Which meant I had to be unpredictable�and that meant going right into the lion�s den.

Thirdly, I needed to kill more to get my next Level. While hunting monsters was doable, at the level I was, I needed tens of thousands of experience points to advance. Bullying monsters wasn�t going to get me there any time soon and finding a higher Level zone, while possible, meant that I wasn�t being a threat to the Sect. Whether it was right or not, the Sect members were giant bags of experience and Credits.

Lastly, taking over Vancouver was necessary to ending this. To do that, we needed to understand how tough these guys were going to be and see if we could get some help from the residents. That meant poking at the forces they�d left behind to safeguard the city and opening channels of communication. The Sect might have beaten the initial resistance, but they�d left enough people around that, if they believed we could win, would be of great use to us. No matter what the kids thought, numbers do have an important quality�even if it�s not as much as pre-System.

Of course, talk is cheap. The fact that we�re putting up a fight in Kamloops might be heartening, but it isn�t convincing enough in and of itself to get them to risk their lives or their freedom. And it shouldn�t be. We�ve all struggled so hard to survive, throwing it away at the smallest hope is a bad idea.

Which means I need to prove that we can do more than hurt the Sect. We can beat them. And the best way to do that is to prove it right here, right now. In the middle of their stronghold. Of course, I�m gambling with my life. But as I trot down Kingsway at a speed that a cheetah would find fast, I�m grinning beneath my helmet.

Because this? This is the kind of shit I live for these days.

I hit Broadway in twenty minutes at a pace that is slow only because I had to skim around a couple of Sect groups while traveling down Kingsway. From here, it�d be simple enough to cross over to the downtown from the Cambie St. Bridge or swing around and go through the downtown eastside. Either would get me into downtown Vancouver. Problem is, even if I can�t see the bridge itself from here, I can see the numerous dots clustered in a line at regular intervals on my minimap that indicate people are lining up to get in. Trying to get in might kick things off immediately.

Which is why I move out of the way of the flow of people all around me while I consider my next steps. There�s no way for me to get downtown without making a fuss, which means it�s got to be at the bottom of my list of things to do. From here, it�d be a simple matter to visit the former Olympic Village and check out the buildings and the delvers who live there. Of course, there�s no guarantee anyone�s home and I�m not entirely sure what I�d say to them either. But�

A solid projectile impacts my stomach, bending me slightly. A second later, beams of energy cook my flesh, tearing my clothing into pieces and throwing me through the caf� windows, its internal walls, and out the other side even as magical arrows chase my body.

�Stupid.� The word reaches me after the attacks fall, the group smart enough to hold back on taunting me until after they struck.

By the time I hit the ground and start rolling, I�ve got my Soul Shield in place to catch the next wave of attacks. All around me, the bleed-off from the attacks flares up, reducing my vision significantly. Which is weird, but probably a purposeful side effect.

�You really dared to come into our city,� the same voice taunts. �When we bought your location from the System, we couldn�t believe you were here.�

I kick backward, hopping out of the immediate attacks, and then again, finally able to see who I�m fighting. For a second. A rolling green cloud covers the area, paint and plastic peeling and melting on contact with the cloud. I see my Soul Shield weakening under the effects of the corrosive poisonous cloud, even as the screams of innocent passersby reach my ears.

�Assholes,� I snarl, borrowing Ali�s eyes as he hovers overhead to Blink Step out of the area of effect.

I appear directly above one of my attackers, allowing me to drop straight down and slice the son of a bitch open, twisting the blade while its inside his body. I�m not even sure who I�m killing, the attack too sudden and unexpected for Ali to populate System information for me.

Kicking off the Sect member�s body, I bounce backward before more shots arrive, and I blink in surprise as the body pulls itself together, what I thought was a soon-to-be corpse healing before my eyes. The pale-skinned creature turns toward me, a mouthful of fangs and too-big eyes facing me as blood flows backward into its body.

�Yuck! Genetrolls. They�re genetically modified creatures who have troll regeneration added to them. They stopped being produced a few hundred years ago after repeated failures. About ninety percent of their test subjects just went insane. The survivors creep around the edges of society,� Ali sends to me, his fingers flying as he populates data all around me.

�Not. Now,� I snap, a fireball flying outward to impact next to the genetroll as Ali speaks, my focus on surviving the next few minutes.

Flames explode, coating the creature, which screams in pain and catches some of his friends in the blast as well. Within seconds, I�m sprinting away, trying to put some distance between my attackers and me. Smoke grenades are pulled and tossed from my inventory as I focus on running and dodging. My Soul Shield falls, another shot ripping it apart, and the laser beam splashes on my skin, burning it away and leaving muscle and tendon exposed. I jerk reflexively, moving away from the path of the beam before I Blink Step away, furious at myself.

I should have known they�d buy my location from the System. Once they realized there was only me out here, the first step would be to figure out where I am. Not track me, just buy my information. Even if it was expensive, they could do it once or twice to narrow down my location, then send their teams at me. The only good thing is they shot their bolt too early. Rather than consolidating their forces and hammering me all at once, they sent their closest groups to attack me.

Ahead of me, blocking my way to the river, is a group of nine Sect members. Half of them are human, the other half aliens. A couple of reptile folk, a wolf-like creature, and a Hakarta open fire the moment they see me. My hands twitch, and I pull the remains of a Level 38 hard-shelled beetle the size of a car from my Altered Space. Holding it in front of me, I let the corpse soak up the damage as Ali darts ahead.

Seconds to cover the ground, to give me the distance I need. I Blink Step again into the sky above the group and release a Blade Strike downward, the wave of blue and red light cutting my attackers below me. I could have added more blades, more Blade Strikes, but I need to conserve my Mana. A part of me regrets the deaths of the humans, wishing they�d stayed away. But we all make choices, and theirs was to attempt to kill me. Idiots weren�t even Level 30.

�Above us!�

The scream cuts off abruptly as I land directly on the gnoll�s body, my knee and shin crushing its collarbone a microsecond after my blade enters its body. I rip sideways, tearing the head off the creature, then dance among my attackers, blood flying. Basic Sect members, all in the mid 20s to low 30s. Nothing exceptional, some having as little as a few hundred health points, none above five hundred. Seconds to cut and injure, to kill. Soulbound, my sword does nearly a hundred points of damage without enhancement and targeting. With their pitiful armor and defenses, my attackers fall all around us, their screams of despair resounding. Experience flows into me as more Sect members die. Each second, I inch toward my next Level.

A giant bone hand swings, catching in my hastily brought up guard. A hand reinforces my blade, the force of the blow sending me skipping through numerous buildings as physics and a Skill knock me away. My arm cracks under the force of the blow, nearly a quarter of my hit points disappearing under that single attack. As I struggle to my feet in the rubble of a building, the Bone Monster is rushing toward me.

I plunge a needle into the exposed flesh of my thigh, the healing potion injected directly into my body. Flesh knits and my arm pops back into place with enough force that I drop my sword. Staring into the glowing freight train of a monster, I grin and Blink Step away.

�Gotcha,� I chortle as I get away from the Advanced Class.

I�m between my initial pursuers now, the group having spread out a bit as their running speeds pull them apart. Next to me is a Mage or support Classer of some form. Truthfully, I don�t have time to tell, only noticing that his health pool is tiny.

I spin, sword recalled into my hand, to lop off his foot above the knee then plunge the blade into his body. As another Sect member raises a gun, I grab the Mage by his face, pulling him in front of the attack to take it before I cast Mana Dart, forming the spell right on my hand. As I shove the Mage at his teammate, I release the spell, the Mana Darts ending the Mage�s life and giving me time to cover the distance to his friend. Something slams into my side, breaking a pair of ribs and dragging out a whimper.

�Mana,� Ali sends to me as I cut apart my latest target, grinning savagely in pain.

More dots, ever more dots converge on us and I take off running again, each step shooting pain through my body. A hand flickers, stabbing a Mana Regeneration potion into my body as I run and form another Soul Shield.

�Hopscotch,� I send to Ali.

Too many Sect members are boiling out of downtown now, some flying across the water, others screaming across the bridge and up Main St. No way for me to cross, and I�ve got less than half of my health points left. Still more than most of the Basic Sect members, but each time I stop to kill, they target me and chip away at my regeneration. And scarily enough, I�ve only seen one of their big guns.

�On it. Stay alive!� Ali sends to me.

I nod, taking a second to duck behind a house that nearly instantly gets obliterated by a pair of spells and what looks like a mortar shell. The explosion kicks wind and debris around me, hammering my Soul Shield as it drains down again.

Twisting in the air, I call forth Sabre and start the transformation process. I haven�t done it before because I didn�t have enough space and cover, the transformation process being the most vulnerable time. Even as I think that, another spell hits me, wind blades combined with a freezing spell cutting into the mecha and my shield.

We land, Sabre already blinking yellow as readouts tell of damaged circuits caught during the change. Immediately, I layer the mecha�s shield on top of the Soul Shield and take off running, picking up speed.

A laser beam fires, this one coming from the Wall Center, and cuts through both shields before losing its effectiveness against Sabre�s armor. A single shot did over a thousand points of damage! At a guess, that�d be the Sect Enforcer in play. I shudder and start dodging, glad that whatever Skill and weapon he�s using, it must take some time to charge.

�Ali��

�Almost there, boy-o,� Ali sends.

Walls erupt ahead of me. I grin behind my helmet, jumping upward and hitting the jets to get me higher. That�s when tentacles come bursting out of the wall, reaching for my body. Even as one grabs my torso and another my head, I reach through Ali�s senses and trigger Blink Step. Surprisingly, I see my Mana drop even further than normal.

A microsecond to recover my footing, another to grab and smash my fist into the Sect member. This time, it�s a gilled purple creature, its eyes widening comically as my blow catches it. Surprisingly, the Sect member folds over, bones crunching under my attack. I don�t stop, can�t stop, as I spin around it and plunge my sword through its back. A quick twist, a strangled scream, and I�m off. Experience flows again and another notification flickers in the corner of my vision.

�That was too easy!� I send to Ali.

�Non-combatant Sect member,� Ali sends to me as he flies away.

A part of me winces�a small part, since I�m too busy running away. We�re behind the main converging line now, the group turning to follow us. Ahead of us, even more Sect members are hurrying forward. I pick a group to fight, watching my health creep up as my regeneration kicks in and pulls ribs back into place. Just over nine hundred hit points, but only three hundred Mana. This is going well. For getting caught in an ambush.

�Aaaarrrgghhhhhhhhhhh!� Ali�s mental scream catches me by surprise.

I look back and see the Spirit twist in the air, clutching his head. A second later, he disappears in a burst of light, banished. Through our connection, I can feel the burning pain from the psychic attack he was under.

Swearing quietly, I trigger the Temporal Shift module and a Mana potion from within Sabre. It floods my body, giving me a few hundred more Mana to play with. That�s enough of a leeway for me to Blink Step to a nearby power pole. A second to orient myself, then I trigger it again. And then once more, crossing nearly a kilometer and a half in seconds. No time to rest, so I port straight to an abandoned alleyway and transform Sabre so that I can take advantage of the greater speed and mobility the bike provides.

Without Ali, I can�t skip away as far as I want to. Can�t even sneak out, not with everyone looking for me. The only advantage I have is that I�m in Burnaby now, outside of Vancouver itself, which means the main sensors they�ve installed are probably reduced in effectiveness and I broke out of their initial encirclement. Speed is my only advantage right now.

This might have been a bad idea.

Once my breathing calms down, I assess options as I eye my much-reduced minimap. Without Ali�s greater sensing ability, it�s shrunk to only what my Greater Detection Skill can provide. Less detail, lower range. It�s still better than what most others have, I know, many having to rely on technology or enhanced senses. Still, without Ali, I feel half-blind.

A small blinking notification in the corner of my eyes attracts my attention, pulling me from my worries as I gun down side streets. A moment�s thought is all I need, the notification making me grin. Finally!

Level Up!

You have reached Level 40 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 9 Free Attributes and 3 Class Skill Points to distribute.

Tier III Class Skills Unlocked

Now we�re talking. I slam the first free Class Skill point into Portal, my long-range teleportation ability. It flashes, the details coming up within seconds. I crouch down further behind my bike, watching attacks splash harmlessly against Sabre�s recovered shield as I zoom past another group of attackers.

Portal (Level 1)

Effect: Creates a 2-meter by 2-meter tall portal that can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 100 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute

Damn. I�m slightly disappointed with the range. Nowhere near as far as I wanted it to go. After all, once you�re bending the laws of space and time, why should distance matter? I push the thought aside, knowing that bitching about distance isn�t the point right now. Still, I take a turn down a side street and onto a main thoroughfare, catching the next group of Sect members by surprise.

The sonic pulser gives me enough time to use my blade as an impromptu spear as I lean dangerously away from the bike. I leave my sword speared in the Sect member�s chest where his heart should be. If its physiology is human-like. The fireball I launch afterward finishes the job, a blip in the corner of my eyes telling me I probably got experience for that kill. No time or desire to check it.

I leave the other two points unused for now. While I have plans for them, those plans rely on me surviving the next few hours. Tapping into those points for a sudden power boost might be all that I need to make it out of here.

By reflex, I turn my head, scanning around me. Something high above, a flicker of light, catches my attention. Looking up, I see not one but a half-dozen drones spreading out along my lines of retreat. With a crunch, a flicker, Sabre�s shield goes down again. Something pink and fluttery, meaty and garishly blue flies past me as I turn forward again and pay attention to where I�m going. No experience notification this time, so I probably didn�t kill whoever�whatever�I just ran over with my bike. I mentally shift the power drain by the shield recharger higher, drawing more from the Mana battery and overheating the poor shield.

A bare couple hundred Mana left in my personal pool. Barely enough for a pair of Blink Steps, then I�m in Mana withdrawal and nearly useless. The few Sect members who get close get shot at, more to keep their heads down than in hopes of hurting them. But their attacks hurt, chipping away at Sabre�s shield. After that, its armor and my health. I�m reminded once again that Skills don�t matter if you don�t have the Mana to back them up.

I keep swerving, hoping to give whoever�s out there a harder time of shooting me. Instinct makes me change direction earlier than usual. A second later, the ground where I�d have been evaporates, asphalt gone and the sewer system exposed as the Sect Enforcer fires again. Even the near-miss is enough to melt my nanite armor and scorch my bare flesh, sweat evaporating in an explosion of steam.

Damn it! I can�t risk it any longer. A second later, I trigger another Mana potion, the second one within an hour. My Mana goes up immediately and I open the Portal, driving straight into its sinister void seconds before the potion feedback hits, sending me screaming into darkness.

Chapter 17

�Well, that was stupid,� Ali says, floating beside me in the inky blackness of the lake.

We�re back at the same lake bottom, the location of my Portal, surrounded by fish and the damaged portions of my mecha. Thankfully, the Portal could be set to be one-way, which meant no one had any clue I was at the bottom of a lake. And I know that because if they knew I was here, I�d probably have eaten another laser beam of death. As it stood, after porting in, I�d pretty much fainted from the potion backlash, the lack of Mana, and the damage done to me. I�d barely managed to trigger the mecha�s transformation to encase me in the suit and keep me alive under the water.

�Damian didn�t tell me about the laser beam of death,� I grumble to Ali. Sabre�s down to a barebones output of Mana, just the Temporal Shift module, life support, and the nanite factory. By the time I awoke, I�d fully healed and even the Mana headache had mostly subsided.

�He probably didn�t use it,� Ali says. �Remember, they were trying to keep the humans alive. Can�t get good prison labor out of corpses.�

�That reminds me. Necromancy�?� I ask.

�Works. You can get zombies and skeletons and the like, but it�s no more effective than any other summoner. The undead aren�t particularly smart, so an undead workforce isn�t useful outside of the most rudimentary tasks.�

�Good to know.� I sigh, taking the time to allocate the last two Skill points I have. Once I�m done, I pull out my new status, curious to see where I am.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead

Health

1850

Stamina

1850

Mana

1400

Mana Regeneration

102 / minute

Attributes

Strength

100

Agility

175

Constitution

185

Perception

Intelligence

142

Willpower

142

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

�You nearly died out there, boy-o,� Ali says softly.

I have to agree with the Spirit. While I had meant to take the risk, and planned for it, I hadn�t expected it to be quite that risky. If it hadn�t been for the Body�s Resolve and my ridiculously high health, along with judicious use of Soul Shield, I would have died quite a few times. Thankfully, I can take a lot of damage, and Blink Step means it�s really hard to pin me down in a fight. Even the Erethran Honor Guard�s resistances help in small doses, mostly from side effects of damage, like fire and cold resistances.

That�s why I had to be the one to do this. Mikito is tough and fast and frankly, fast becoming deadlier than I am in a straight-out fight. Her weapon can dish out more damage than mine, has better reach, and she�s both more skilled and Skilled for straight-on duels. Lana would have died fast because she�s just too squishy, and Ingrid� well, okay, Ingrid probably wouldn�t have been caught even if they knew where she was.

�So how long are we staying here?� Ali asks, waving his hand around the water.

�Not sure. Debating if they�d spend more funds to locate me. If they don�t, this is a great place to hide. If they do, I need to be on the move,� I say, reaching up to rub my chin and finding my helmet in the way. I frown, itching to eat something but not having the option to do so. Well, outside of the damn food paste the nanites can produce. But we don�t consider that food.

�Recommend you portal out of here anyway,� Ali says.

I sigh. This time around, with more points stuck into Portal�all my remaining ones, in fact�my range had significantly increased. Even so, wielding Mana in any form hurts right now. Even summoning Ali had been painful, but I felt safer with his presence.

Still, the damn Spirit has a point. A few minutes later, I�m stretching and savoring the experience of being free of both Sabre and my armor while standing in Kamloops�s City Center. Painful as it might be, a Cleanse spell a second later makes me feel so much better, though I promise myself a hot shower too. But first�

�Guys. I�m back,� I say over the radio, sending a notice to the group.

Lana and Sam answer immediately, and I make promises to see them soon. Food first though, as my stomach�s rumbling again.

�Ingrid�s left a few messages,� Ali says, waving at the city center orb.

I grunt, walk over to place my hand on it, and pull up the messages.

In Seattle safe. City is weird�multiple Shops situated throughout the city with each Shop creating its own �city,� unlike in Whitehorse. The Sect has control of most of the minor towns north of Seattle and about a quarter of the Shops in northern Seattle itself. :( They have lost major ground recently as the humans have been pushing back hard. Will update later when I know more.

I frown, reading the message quickly. Good to know she managed to make it down safely, even if the message itself was weeks old by now.

No messages for me? You suck. :P

Met some friendly�too friendly in some cases�humans. Quite a few groups of survivors down here, each of them competing and centering their bases around the Shops. Some are going all Mad Max while others are trying to be nice. Nicer groups include a bunch of geeks who nearly all Classed as Mages of some sort centered around Microsoft�s headquarters and another group of hipster coffee makers who make the best coffee ever. We got to get some of this going�their coffee tastes like heaven and bumps up Mana regeneration without affecting other potions. I�m writing this right now on it. So good.

You were right. The humans down here are really keeping the Sect on their toes. They�re fighting back and stubborn and the Sect has to keep most of their troops down here. I�ve spotted quite a few scouts watching the Sect. Any time they shift forces one way or the other, someone attacks the weakened group. If they didn�t have so many Advanced Classers, they�d be wiped out already.

There are other groups that Liam�the coffee brewer boss�promises to introduce me to. He�s real nice and says he�s interested but figures everyone is too tightly wound to actually help. Best we can hope for is a bit more of a push. But I�ll see what I can do. Might have to kill a few Sect members to prove things.

PS: Forgot. Almost everyone who leads a group has an Advanced Class, though no one�s above Level 15. Highest is a 13 so far, but I think they�ve been funneling kills to him because everyone else on his group is in the 30s. Mage group is nearly ready to break into their Advanced Class�give them a few months and their elites will be there. They�re scarily good but very cautious.

Interesting. It seems like at least one group has learned how to cheat the System�s experience a bit. Or I might be over-thinking things. There could be a dozen different reasons for why the leader has much higher experience points. Still, something I�d love to look into later�

Still no messages? What, do I smell bad? Making a girl feel a little abandoned here.

Remember how I pointed out I wasn�t real good at this talk nice to people thing and you should send Lana? Well, don�t say I didn�t warn you. I might have had to kill a few Americans. In my defense, they were racist, sexist, misogynistic, torturing pigs. Also, they were trying to kill some new friends of mine and had good loot. So yeah, keep an eye out for the Sons of Odin when you come down.

I�ll keep talking to people here, but I don�t think we�re going to get that much help. They�re a bit too fractured. If they weren�t, they�d probably have kicked the Sect�s ass by themselves anyway. I�ll keep trying though. It�s been fun.

I rub my face as I read the last message. Just what we needed. Another group of enemies. Then again, considering their name, I could guess the kind of idiots they are anyway. Any group that decides the Vikings are people they want to emulate will never be high on my friend list. Seriously, study some history, people.

I consider what to write before I jot down a quick message thanking Ingrid for her help and letting her know that my part of the plan had some progress. After that, sending out a few more letters, simple messages to old friends, makes sense.

Once that�s done, I do a quick check and wince. Nearly two hundred million to set up an anti-teleport formation. As useful as that might be, I decide against it. Not that I can afford it, but it�s the thought that counts. After all, a long-range teleport Skill that includes more than one individual is pretty rare.

Stepping away from the orb, I assess my surroundings again. Sabre�s lying on the ground, its Mana battery slowly recharging, nanites crawling over the frame to fix gouges and burnt-out components. Traces of dried blood lie all across the exterior and interior, somehow not washed away by the water. I raise my arm, ready to cast Cleanse on it and pause, staring at the trembling digits.

Strange. I stare at my hand, puzzled, unable to grasp what I�m seeing. Then the shakes hit my legs, a wave of weakness taking me to my knees as my breath shortens. I struggle to draw a breath, my chest tight as my hands tremble uncontrollably. The shudders reach my body, my teeth chattering as memories of the battle erupt, taking me back. The laser beam, a sword that cuts through armor, a bone fist. Moments of crisis, of imminent danger. One after the other.

Aftershocks. I know what this is, understand the effects. How could I not? The reliving of memories, the shakes, it�s all natural. Now that I�m safe, my mind is finally releasing the clamps that have kept me from unraveling. It�s good for me even as my mind processes the violent encounters, reorganizes, and resets my nerves and body.

Natural perhaps, but tears drip from my eyes nonetheless. A woman thrown aside by an explosive, brown eyes filled with shock and betrayal. An innocent caught in the midst of my grandstanding. A green-eyed, slit-pupiled alien staring at me from inches away as his life drains. Screams of pain, a still-kicking leg against a grey concrete sidewalk. Memories.

The shudders slowly stop, the memories subsiding as my breathing evens out. I scrub my face, wiping away the tear tracks, and spit to clear the blood from the lip I bit through. Perhaps I could, I should, be able to handle this better with the System�s help. Certainly I don�t fall to pieces like this all the time. Perhaps I could wipe away all of this with an application of will and Skill.

But I�m glad I don�t and can�t. So little of me that I can unilaterally point to as being human is left. So little of the quiet programmer I was pre-System. Better to have a breakdown once in a while, to hate and regret the lives I take and the violence that has happened, than to remove it all. Because if I did, I�m not sure I�d like the person left.

By that point, my stomach�s growling and occasional bars of chocolate eaten while working is no longer sufficient. Thankfully there�s a restaurant�the Loose Goose�nearby, which I visit at Ali�s insistence. Truth be told, I don�t have much energy to gainsay him. I have to admit, I nearly choke when I see the sheer amount of Credits they�re asking for�until I realize they�re offering an all-you-can-eat buffet. Still, I�m amused that they changed the name but not the red-and-steel d�cor of the previous chain.

Food paired with blessed peace and silence all slowly pull the shards of my calm together. By the time Sam finds me, I�m mostly myself once again, my mental and emotional equilibrium restored. Just another �gift� from the System. Or perhaps too much experience.

�You know, as the titular owner of the city, you shouldn�t be trying to eat your people out of house and home,� Sam says, grabbing a seat next to me.

�Nice to see you too,� I greet the Technomancer, nodding at the silver-haired gentleman.

�You do what you planned to do?� Sam says.

�Pretty much. Attacks still coming?�

Sam nods, his face grim.

On seeing that, I add, �What?�

�We nearly lost Mikito two days ago. The Blood Warrior and his team hit her group while they were hunting in the park. Focused their entire attack on her, and since she refused to run away�� Sam shakes his head.

�How�d she survive?� I say, concern tingeing my voice. Only a little bit, since he said nearly. Anything that doesn�t kill us in this world quite literally makes us stronger.

�Her trainee stuck by her side long enough for the team to get far away enough and sneak back to counter-ambush the group. The team managed to kill a couple of their people and let Mikito injure the Blood Warrior. Her trainee didn�t survive though.�

Shit. I wonder how the Japanese woman is handling that. Losing a trainee, an apprentice can�t be good for her.

�Where is she?� I ask.

�Out.�

Of course she�s out, hunting and dragging the groups around to Level them up. Whether it�s because she�s got an over-developed sense of responsibility or just a need to bury her grief, she�s out with her people.

�Lana says she needs some time,� Sam says softly at seeing the worry on my face.

I nod, accepting his words. Still, I make a note to see if I can have a word with my friend.

�The night attacks?� I ask.

Sam makes a face, telling me all I need to know. Of course, he does explain it anyway, listing all the different ways Mel has tried to catch the group before they run away. Even having the entire town up and watching with groups ranging around at night has done little to stop the annoyances of the midnight attacks.

�We could have used Ali for the night attacks,� Lana says, dropping into a chair next to me as I finish picking my latest plate clean.

Stomach finally satisfied, I push the plates away and stare at my some-time girlfriend. From her unhappy expression, I can tell she�s still not gotten over my abrupt departure.

�Hi, Lana. Ali couldn�t find them the last time. Don�t think he�d be of much help even now,� I say with a shrug. �And I needed him.�

�And how many times did he almost get killed?� Lana asks Ali sweetly, violet eyes glinting with the promise of violence if Ali doesn�t tell the truth.

�Ummm� we talking total or number of battles? Just two major fights. About� a dozen times? Something like that,� Ali says with a shrug. �I kind of lost count.�

�Only a dozen. I take it that happened in Vancouver,� Lana says, still ignoring me.

�Mostly. Running away in Merritt was tougher than we thought�they had a tracker,� Ali says as way of explanation.

�Ah. And of course, buying a Stealth Class Skill would not have helped,� Lana says again, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I twitch, recalling her asking me to take her Credits to buy myself that Skill and my subsequent refusal. Pride�for using only my own Credits�and idiotic stubbornness stopped me from doing so. Even if she doesn�t say it directly, I can hear the �I told you.�

�Well, a single point probably wouldn�t have helped boy-o against the tracker,� Ali says, coming to my defense.

�Maybe not a lot. But what is it you guys keep saying? That everything�s on a razor edge?� Sam says, getting into the conversation. �Me, I like having lots of Skills. Even if I can�t use all of them very well, having more options seems like a good idea.�

�Yes, but you can also integrate those Skills into your machines,� Ali says pointedly to Sam.

I blink, since I didn�t even realize that that was an option for Sam. Someday, I really need to explore Sam�s full Skill list and what he can actually do. I have a feeling I�ll be pleasantly surprised.

�If we�re done talking about how stupid I was�� I glare at Ali, who opens his mouth to retort, before I continue. �I did Level. How are we doing on the rest of the plan?�

There�re a few quick smiles at that one, but Lana looks around at the obviously unsecured area. I nod to her to go on.

After a moment, she does. �We�re getting there. We�ve managed to double our revenue, so we should be able to pick up some decent upgrades for the city. The hunting groups have picked up a few more Levels as well. However, morale continues to be down and we�ve lost a full group since you�ve been gone.�

�Good,� I say, considering her words. �There�s a lot I need to talk to you all about.�

�Tonight?� Lana asks, glancing out the window to the sky outside.

It�s only a few hours left till dusk �time enough for me to wash and rest and Mikito to get back. Still, I hesitate, judging my mental and emotional balance.

�No. Tomorrow,� I say.

Lana frowns, seeing something in my face because she just nods and kisses me on the cheek. �I�ll see you tonight then.�

I open my mouth then close it, shutting down the automatic rejection. Mentally cursing myself, I keep quiet. Why would I reject her presence tonight?

�At a guess, because you�re stupid and don�t want to look vulnerable to your girl,� Ali says then chuckles softly as I shoot him a startled glance. �Oh please. I�ve lived with you for over a year. Reading you is easy.�

I grunt, watching the redhead walk away before glancing toward Sam and realizing the older man has already left. A moment of scanning shows he�s working his way through the buffet tables with a giant pile of meat. I�m in worse shape than I thought if I missed his movements that easily. On that note, I decide to take the rest of the day off. Tomorrow and all that it will entail will still come.

Chapter 18

Surprisingly, at least to me, the evening with Lana progressed pleasantly. Annoyed or not, the woman seemed to understand that I needed a bit of time to decompress, and so we spent the evening mostly in companionable silence. With a very pleasant massage that did not lead to anything too strenuous afterward. Perhaps it was because of that that I found myself waking up late the next day, alerted by Lana shifting on my arm to stand up.

�Morning, beautiful,� I greet Lana with a smile. Once again, I admire the redhead, her pale skin and lightly freckled body combined with a subtle level of athletic muscles that enhanced her femininity.

�Morning,� Lana says, turning to smile at me as she dresses. �Feeling better?�

�Yes,� I say, tilting my head. �Was it that obvious?�

�To those of us who know you? Definitely,� Lana says.

�You seem better�� I say slowly, cautiously. She does seem less agitated, less angry, than the day before.

�I just needed a night off. Time to understand, to know, that you�re back. Alive.� Lana sits back down next to me, clad only in her shirt, and puts a hand on my arm. �I know you are who you are. I even� well, it�s what attracts me to you. But it�s not easy, knowing you�ll always throw yourself into the fire.�

I blink, stopping to consider her words. After a moment, I squeeze her hand and smile at her wryly. �Sorry. I didn�t really think about it that way.�

�No, of course you didn�t. You idiot,� Lana says affectionately before kissing my forehead. �Now go brush your teeth. The rest are waiting for us.�

I nod, watching as Lana finishes getting dressed before I move, a strange feeling in my stomach. It�s been so many years since I had someone who actually cared about what I did or where I was that it was strange. It was a feeling that I had been missing with Luthien, an aspect of our relationship that I probably should have taken as a sign. Shaking my head, I promise to try to be better.

Pushing aside the remnants of my breakfast, I stare at the group around me. This time, it includes everyone on my team and the erstwhile council, including a very tired-looking Mel. Curiously, no attacks were made last night, though it didn�t stop the Gunslinger from staying up all night.

�Right,� I say, cutting through the conversations. �Let�s begin.�

For the next hour or so, my team and the council gives me a more thorough briefing about the city�s status. It can all be boiled down to not much change but mostly for the better. More Levels, a growing economy, a more settled populace are all the positives. The negatives all concern the Sect and their continued presence.

�Thank you,� I say after everyone finally runs down. �Ingrid�s reported in, as many of you know. We aren�t going to get much help from the US, but it�s unlikely the Sect is willing to risk pulling out more forces to hit us. Not until they can stabilize their situation down south. That means we only need to concern ourselves with the players in BC.

�Vancouver�s doing worse than we hoped for. The Sect�s a lot stronger there than what we�ve seen here.� I quickly fill them in on the revolution, the deportation, and the Advanced Class members I fought. More than a few of my audience suck in a breath or show their uncertainty as I describe the fight. �That�s pretty much where we stand now.�

After I�m done, there�s a bit of conversation, whispered words between the council members and Mel, between Sam and Lana and the others. Mostly, my team holds off on talking to each other, knowing me as well as they do.

After the initial conversation trails off, I break in. �The way I see it, we have the same two choices we started with weeks ago. Hunker down, keep growing our people, and hope we can Level everyone faster than the Sect can shift resources to the planet. All while they have free rein to attack us and whittle our people down. Of course, they�ve got to divert their people to bothering us but�� I shrug, figuring they understand the point. The Sect doesn�t need to Level their attackers, not the way we do.

�Or�?� Torg says.

�Or we take a little risk. It�s why I left.� I pause before committing to telling these guys what I planned. The team knows, of course; it�s why we argued. �We take the fight back to them. Hit Vernon again, then Kelowna in short order. Except instead of just my team, this time we take a large portion of our fighting force and do it properly. At the same time, we attack the group that�s been hounding us at night.�

�We don�t even know where they are!� Mel says bitterly.

�We can buy their location from the Shop,� I say. �It�d be expensive and probably take most of our savings, but we can do it.�

�You�d be leaving the city undefended! It�s only a few hours� drive from Vancouver. If those Advanced Class members or a few groups come, we�ll lose everything,� Benjamin says, shaking his head. �I can�t agree to a risk like that.�

�And you�re talking about hitting at least two, if not three, groups. We don�t have the people,� Mel adds.

�We�ve still got the Hakarta here. And that�s the other reason I left. You see, I�ve got this Skill now,� I say with a smile.

It doesn�t take long to fill them in on Portal. Mel grasps the advantages first, the others requiring a little more prodding before they understand. I don�t mind. It took me a bit to really grasp what Portal can do. In the end, it comes down to a simple thing�mobility.

�I�ll admit, you�ll be able to reinforce us quickly, especially if we use Skills and technology to keep you informed but�� Ben says, doubt in his tone. �It�s still a risk. The Sect has a lot of Advanced Classers out there.�

�That�s why we asked some friends to visit,� Lana says with a smile. �They can�t leave their homes for long, but for a quick strike, they�d be happy to help.�

�Friends?� Mel says, something glimmering in his eyes as his gaze sweeps over my team. �I take it they�re tough.�

�Some of the toughest we know,� I say, smiling.

�When were you thinking of doing this?� Ben says, worry on his face.

�Well, today,� I say, looking up as Ali signals me that we�ve gotten a reply.

As the council streams out unhappily after being railroaded, I find Lana standing beside me, waiting. It�s only when they�ve left that she speaks.

�Why did you bother?� she says, her tone filled with curiosity.

�Bother?� I repeat.

�Giving them an option. You knew you were doing this anyway,� Lana says.

�Ah� I was told that as a leader, you should at least try to explain your reasoning to others.�

Lana stares at me, her eyes widening incredulously before she giggles. I frown, a bit annoyed by the giggling. Fine. I�m not exactly used to leading. At least not like this. Hell, even pre-System, I mostly just did my own thing in the jobs I worked.

When the giggling comes to an end, Lana says, �I�m sorry. But next time, maybe you can work on giving people more time to get used to the idea before insisting on your way.�

I consider what I�ve seen of her skillsets then nod. A glance at the time shows I�ve still got a bit of time before I should open the Portal.

�John?� Lana draws my attention back to her. �Why are you still the owner of the town?�

�Hmmm?� I say, tilting my head.

�Why haven�t you just given it back to the townspeople?� Lana says. �Set up some democratic elections or something? Keeping it isn�t really your style.�

�Tired of me giving you all the hard work?� I say, teasing her.

�Actually, yes,� Lana says huffily before she relents slightly. �People do like to know what the hell is happening. You keep things too close to your chest sometimes.�

I pause before nodding. �Sorry. And you�re right. I�ve gotten a little more paranoid since the System. It�s just that since everything said can be purchased��

�You�re worried someone might learn what you�re doing?� Lana says.

I nod. �It�s stupid really. All-encompassing surveillance might be great in theory, but it doesn�t help if you don�t look. And we�re so insignificant�� We really are, in the greater scheme of things. �But I can�t shake the feeling that I shouldn�t talk about my future plans.�

Lana stays silent while I grapple with the practical and the emotional considerations. At times, I open my mouth then shut it, finally giving in to the practical.

�Do you know much about how the Galactic Council operates?� At her denial, I continue. �Think of it like the UN. Each world gets a representative on the general Galactic Council. Within the Council itself, there�s an inner circle, a smaller group that makes all the decisions, like the UN Security Council. Except these guys actually have a lot of power and get things done. They�re the ones who made Earth a Dungeon World, for example.

�To get a seat on the general council, you�ve got to be in control of your world�or at least the majority of it. Sort of like the way you can get a city, you�ve got to do the same thing with your world. Of course, owning that much of a world can be impossible, so in those cases, you�d have to enact voting of some sort,� I say, looking at Lana to see if she gets it. �It�s worth noting that no Dungeon World has ever had a seat on the Galactic Council. Too many interests fighting for control, so no one gets a seat.�

�And you want to change that,� Lana says quietly, staring at me. I nod slowly, and she grimaces. �That�s ambitious.�

�Just a little. But you�ve seen the Yerick. They lost their world. I don�t want us to be like them. But to get involved in the voting process, to start the ball rolling even, we need�I need�a stake in it.� I wave my hand around us, encompassing the city.

�You don�t ever think small, do you?� Lana says, giving me a hug.

�No. But it�s what we need. As a race,� I say softly.

I won�t let us become like the poor Yerick, just another race forcefully added to the System. Now they don�t even control their own home planet, forced to drift through the Galactic System as adventurers and transients. They do well�for third-class citizens�but it�s not what I want for humanity. Maybe it�s insane to think that I can make a difference, but it�s better than sitting around adding Levels for the hell of it.

�Speaking of the Yerick�� Ali says leadingly, tapping his wrist.

Nodding at the Spirit, I detach myself from Lana. Time to get back to work.

For the first time, I get a chance to marvel at the Portal I can conjure. It�s the third Portal I�ve cast, but it�s the first time I�ve done so when I�m not being shot at or hiding in a lake. Neither of which is particularly conducive to admiring your work. The Portal itself is a gaping hole in space bordered with shimmering golden light. The center is nothing but a stygian blackness, one that neither reflects light nor provides any clue of what lies behind. If I wasn�t the one who had summoned it, I probably would have found it difficult to transit through. Luckily, my friends are more trusting and less paranoid than I am.

The first to exit is a giant Yerick. Just under ten feet tall, the leader of the Yerick in Whitehorse is broad-shouldered, ripped, and bull-headed. Literally. The Yerick are what we knew as minotaurs, creatures of great strength and an infallible sense of direction. Of course, the reality is that they�re just Adventurers who hit dungeons a lot, but that�s Mana Bleed for you. Behind him, a shorter female Minotaur in a simple armored jumpsuit follows, her eyes dancing with amusement as she looks around.

�First Fist. Nelia!� I greet both of my friends/ex-teammates with a smile and a handshake.

Capstan takes my hand with care, not crushing it, as does Nelia.

�It is good to see you, Redeemer. I see you have Leveled again,� Capstan rumbles, his voice low and gravelly.

�And you. Thank you for coming,� I say.

�No thanks needed. Just payment.� Capstan flashes me a smile.

I know he�s mostly joking. Even knowing that he�s a friend, I find the smile intimidating. Leaving Lana to continue greeting the pair, I turn to the next individual to enter. �Mike?�

�No need to sound so surprised.� Mike Gadsby, the Level 8 Regional Guardian, smiles at me. I return his smile, taking in his new Advanced Class and the gunmetal-and-chrome arm. �And yes, I upgraded it.� Mike flexes his left arm, grinning at me, his mustache waggling as he does so.

�Sorry, just surprised. I figured��

�Jason would come? Not a chance. Rachel isn�t letting him out of her sight, not with her so close to giving birth,� Mike says with a smile. Before I can ask about their health, Mike grows serious. �Anyway, protecting the citizens of Canada is my job. Gave my oath long before the System.�

�We both did,� Amelia, the stocky ex-RCMP officer, says as she exits the Portal. She is once again dressed in her old uniform, this one adjusted slightly to cover her armored jumpsuit. After she clears the entryway, she shudders as she stares at the Portal. �That thing is so creepy.�

�Hmmm?� I�m curious to hear what she has to say. Transportation is instantaneous and doesn�t even feel like anything, at least to me.

�Just the entire teleportation thing. So weird��

I nod in understanding. Amelia�s not gotten her Advanced Class yet, though she�s only a couple of Levels away. No surprise there. Since Jason has been on guard duty, Mike has been forced to take on more active roles in Carcross, resulting in his Level jumping up. Amelia, on the other hand, has been in town, dealing with the day-to-day policing issues.

I blink as Vir, Amelia�s Truinnar partner, steps out behind her, hands clasped behind his back, wearing his silver-grey uniform. Among other things, Vir is Lord Roxley�s right hand and what I believe to be his spymaster as well as Amelia�s on-off partner while she works the streets of Whitehorse. Of course, considering how high Vir�s Level is, I�m not likely to turn him down. Still, I can�t say I�m happy to see him or what he represents.

The black-skinned, pointy-eared humanoid greets me with a tight-lipped smile. �Mr. Lee.�

�Why are you here?� I frown.

�John�� Lana chides me, walking forward to greet Vir.

�Mr. Lee�s reaction is expected, Ms. Pearson.� Vir kisses Lana�s hand as he bows over it. �He is, as always, predictable. My lord has requested I provide what I am able to in your most recent endeavor.�

�And of course, report what is going on,� I say with a bite.

�Of course,� Vir says, refusing to be ashamed of his secondary goals.

�Well, you�re here.� I close the Portal after I ascertain no one else is coming. �Let�s get started.�

Hours later. First, greeting and introducing everyone, then explaining the roles I had planned for them. Then, there�re all the questions I have to answer about potential problems, all the contingencies I�ve made or all the ones that we need to make.

In the end, the plan boils down to what we�ve discussed already. By shifting a few of my people and the Hakarta platoon in-house, we�ll be able to send my team, the Yukoners, and the hunting groups to hit the other areas. Of course, there was quite a bit of discussion on whether to split or attack sequentially. In the end, the fact that we feel we have enough people to launch simultaneous attacks tipped the balance in that direction.

It�s mid-afternoon by the time we�re done, and between lunch and needing to brief everyone involved, there�s no way to get going until tomorrow. As it stands, the unlucky few who have to stay behind have to familiarize themselves with the city.

�Tomorrow then,� I say, looking around the group.

�Still don�t see why I have to guard the city,� Amelia says grumpily to Mike and Lana.

�Well, Guardian, your Skills fare better on the defense. Buying time is the entire point of those left behind,� Lana explains patiently.

�Mike gets to go!� Amelia protests.

�My Skills let me boost those around me, along with dishing out the pain. You�re geared toward individual fighting and wide-range defense. I�m the better choice for an attack, especially if that Bone Monster or Sect Enforcer is out there,� Mike says patiently.

Amelia makes a face but falls silent.

Capstan finds me at that point, looming over me. �I am uncomfortable with leaving Nelia behind.�

Nelia snorts quietly by his side.

�Sorry. We need a Healer back here to help drag things out. The hunter groups out here are a lot more healing intensive than Whitehorse, so the attacking teams should be fine,� I say.

�Aye. Still, I have a suggestion�� Capstan is cut off by the blaring of alarms and the flashing notification that appears in front of us.

�What�?� I exclaim before staring at the newly populated map.

Red and green dots everywhere. Even as I�m reacting in surprise, another notification shows up, indicating a sudden drain on the settlement�s shield.

DECLARATION OF WAR

AS THE OWNER OF KAMLOOPS, YOU ARE HEREBY NOTIFIED THAT A STATE OF WAR NOW EXISTS BETWEEN THE THIRTEEN MOON SECT AND THE VILLAGE OF KAMLOOPS (OWNER JOHN LEE).

ALL WAR PROVISIONS ARE ENACTED AND WILL BE ENFORCED UNTIL A MUTUAL STATE OF PEACE HAS BEEN ADOPTED, THE DESTRUCTION OF ONE PARTY, OR A PERIOD OF ONE GALACTIC YEAR HAS PASSED.

The System notification window�this time a giant blue screen, all in block letters�appears. I blink, reading through it quickly before dismissing the note.

Ali announces, �We�re under attack.�

Chapter 19

Everyone in the meeting is a veteran. Whether we chose it or not, we understand that speed at certain times is essential. The only order I give is to hold my team back as a reserve, allowing everyone else to rush to the walls where we have been attacked. Even as the Yukoners run, Mel�s barking out orders to slot them into his plans.

�Whoever was hiding the attackers is still masking their Classes and Levels,� Ali sends to everyone via the city�s notification system. It�ll be confusing for those not involved in the defense, but it�s also the fastest way for us to get out essential information.

�Got it,� Mel says, his voice cackling over the radio. �I�m briefing the newcomers on the communication protocols. We�ll be able to talk properly soon. Hold all non-essential communication till then.�

�I�ve started the online process for the sentinels,� Sam says, his eyes half unfocused. �We�ve done a few upgrades to them since you�ve been here last, John. Got my drones in the air too, Give me a couple of minutes and I can feed us more detailed information.�

�Shields are holding, but they won�t hold for more than another two minutes,� Lana says.

Out of nowhere, Roland pops into existence next to me, nearly making me jump. Would have, if Ingrid didn�t do it all the time and made me slightly inured to friendly creatures trying to make me soil my pants.

My mind�s spinning. If they�re taking down the settlement shield this fast, it�s got to be because more than their original attack group is here. In fact, there�s got to be quite a few people. A glance at the icons on the map is enough to tell me that there�s at least one hundred twenty. Probably including a bunch of Advanced Class players. The question, of course, is what they�re doing here.

Actually, that isn�t the question. The question is what I intend to do about it. Without a word, I�m heading for the City Core.

�No point in keeping funds for figuring out where they are,� I mutter as I sprint down the corridor, closely followed by Lana riding her tiger. A part of me is curious if that�s a Skill or a skill.

�Hold your fire till I tell you to. Yes, you too!� Mel�s voice snaps over the radio, ordering the teams that gather.

�And that confirms that Sect Enforcer is here,� Ali says.

I note the drop of nearly a third of our shield�s rating from a single hit, the effects of the Enforcer�s attack.

�Kuso,� Mikito curses.

�Can we locate him?� I snap at Ali. We need him taken down. If we get into a fight and he�s out sniping, it will not go well.

�Nothing,� Ali says, shaking his head. �The System�s giving me nothing on these guys.�

�A pair of my drones got a good look on that shot. I�m trying to triangulate his position now. I�ll send some over in that direction,� Sam says, speaking over the team�s radio channel.

Finally at the orb, I slap my hand on it while calling out, �Recommendations!�

�Three options. Mana field�it�ll increase Mana collection in the surroundings and up Mana regeneration for everyone in town. Get the upgrade and it can exclude the Sect members. It can be tied into an enchantment later that can boost its effectiveness, but I don�t think we can afford that right now. Tier IV Sentinels would be a nice addition. Can�t get many of them, but it�ll give us something that can potentially handle the lower Level Sect members. Last option, upgrade the Shield. Buy us more time,� Lana says, her eyes gleaming.

�I CONCUR WITH MS. PEARSON,� Kim says.

No surprise there, as Lana and Kim have been working together to keep the city secure. On that note�

�Kim, you�ve got control of the beam turrets. Target low-Level Sect members when you can, concentrate fire, and take them out. Switch to air suppression once you need to do so,� I order the AI. It�s only after I�ve done that that I realize I might be contradicting orders from Mel. Ah hell�

�UNDERSTOOD.�

I nod, thinking quickly. The last option is discarded immediately�might have been viable if the Sect Enforcer wasn�t around, but even with an upgraded shield, he�d cut through it eventually. Not worth the cost. I can also guess that�s why we weren�t going for things like artillery and even the beam weaponry�too likely to hit our own people when the fighting really started. That left either the Mana Regeneration module, which could give us a slight edge if things dragged on, or the Sentinels. Unsure, I pull up both stats.

Mana Collection Field

Using a mixture of symbols of enchantment and upgraded nanites, the Mana Collection Field increases total Mana flow within the settlement. Higher-grade fields increase regeneration rates by a higher amount. Note: in non-stable regions, this can lead to an increased spawning rate of monsters.

Effect: 5% Increase in Mana Regeneration Rates

Cost: 2.3 Million Credits

Upgrade: Mana Collection Field may be targeted (+1.5 Million Credits)

Monolam Tier IV Sentinels

A staple of cities throughout the Galaxy, Monolam Sentinels are equipped with sonic, beam, and kinetic weaponry to deal with a wide variety of monster threats.

Cost: 500 Thousand Credits each

When Lana said we couldn�t get many of the Sentinels, she wasn�t kidding. I wince at the cost. And I know, I just know, that if I buy them, they�ll be destroyed within minutes of the fight actually starting. A part of me rails against the waste, refusing to throw hard-earned Credits away so simply. Hoping that cheaping out won�t get anyone killed, I buy the Mana Collection Field.

�MANA COLLECTION FIELD PURCHASED AND INITIATION BEGUN,� Kim flashes a note before me. �MANA REGENERATION RATES WILL INCREASE TO 5% IN INTERVALS AS INTEGRATION PROCESS PROCEEDS.�

I swear softly, realizing that the process won�t be instantaneous and thoroughly regretting my choice. Still, better than nothing.

�Shield is down,� Lana says.

�Now!� Mel�s voice roars at the same time.

The ensuing explosions and wave of Skills briefly overload my display, the dots that indicate the Sect members disappearing for a second. Unfortunately, we�re not the only ones who can plan for an expected attack, and it doesn�t seem like anyone was injured.

A moment later, I watch as our people and the existing Sentinels roll forward to meet the attacking Sect members outside the defunct Shield and the city itself, and the battle truly begins.

Dots. From here, all we can see are dots. I�m dressed now, Sabre�s still-repairing form wrapped around my body. Structural and armor integrity is in the low 30s, significantly worse than what I�d like, but it is what it is. Mikito�s PAV has finally reached her and she�s armed and ready, standing beside me patiently. Sam�s outside, driving ever so slowly in his modified truck to the fight while he commands his drones, providing us a real-time display while he hunts down the Sect Warrior. And around us, all of Lana�s pets crowd the control room. From here, all we see are dots that blip and move, shifting as they engage one another.

Each dot a life. Each point that vanishes is one more death to lay at my feet. I could see the actual images, the actual fight, if I wished. Easy enough to train cameras to watch the blood flow, hear the screams of pain. But I don�t. Callous and cold as I might be, watching their deaths is more than I can do. Because we have to wait. To hold�

�Guardians, pin that Psychic down. We can�t let him hit anyone else. Healers, get that Minotaur up now! We need him back on that Bone Warrior; the elf can�t hold him alone. Sam, can you do anything about the cyborg? Who�s got eyes on that Assassin? Teams two to six, you need to swing around to deal with those Mages. The rest of you, hold that Blood Warrior�� Mel�s voice, snapping orders constantly on the radio, details things for me.

The Hakarta are engaged with the Blood Warrior and his clones, along with the majority of the Sect�s forces, in a wide-ranging skirmish constrained only by the mine fields. In some cases, not even that�I note more than one dot moving quickly across the map to land in the fields. Someone�or someones�out on the field seems to enjoy tossing Sect members around.

In each fight, the Advanced Fighters, or those close to it, are separated by a large area around them, no one willing to get between those titans. Even as they fight, the colors and markings on my map shift as Ali adds information. Soon, each enemy Advanced Fighter gets his own special purplish-red color to mark his position, with me wincing at how many of them there are.

�Looks like they pulled all the Advanced Classes they could get their hands on to hit you guys first,� Ali says as his fingers dance in the air. �Being forced to use Portal to run away probably tipped our hand.�

I can only nod, holding my emotions close and tight. Can�t, won�t, let them out. This is neither the time nor place. Regret worms through my guts anyway, escaped from the tight control I have on everything else. Just once, I�d love for a plan to work out�

�Who�s that� arrgh. We�ve got a damn Assassin out here. We�ve got to find him.� Mel�s voice again, even as a dot flickers and disappears.

No mention of us yet. I�m not sure if that�s confidence that we�ll do the right thing at the right time or he�s forgotten that we�re out here.

Clusters of blue appear around the walls again and on the buildings that lead into the city. I realize after a moment what those dots are�non-combatant reserves coming to pitch in. A flicker as a pair of dots disappears. A simple straight line that we could draw, if we wanted to. A signal.

�I have him.� Sam�s voice is cold.

A new dot nearly a kilometer away. I know that place, know there�s a building there, though I�ve never been to it.

�I can�t drop us off right there,� I say, already reaching out with my Skill. I can only create Portals where I�ve been, or within a few tens of meters of where I�ve been. That location is too far. �Mikito, Lana, hit them from behind. The Sect Enforcer is mine.�

Acknowledgements come even as the Portal opens. The other side of the Portal exits behind the Sect�s lines, between the Sect Enforcer and our attackers. A chance for us to split their forces, make use of our ability to move around the battlefield. Of course, the spell itself drained nearly a quarter of my Mana and I still need to finish this fight.

I don�t look behind me as I run toward the Sect Enforcer�s location, trusting my friends to hit them as hard as they can. I�d considered dropping us off closer to the fight, allowing the girls to hit them faster, but that Sect Enforcer is a greater danger. It�s not even the sudden death that he can drop on others�it�s the fear that he engenders. And it�s no surprise people are afraid. Even with my shields up, I can�t take more than a single shot from him.

A glint, a flash of light as the Enforcer shifts his gun. A moment, and then I�m gone, Blink Stepping to beneath the grey office building he lies on. Too far by just a bit, but the flash of light across my peripheral vision tells me that delaying would have been disastrous. I launch myself through the air at the edge of the building. A moment later, concrete shatters around me as my body hurtles through the flimsy building.

A hand on the building edge, I pull and twist, flipping up even as I ready a Blade Strike. The Enforcer is gone though, having left his sniper rifle alone. I stare down the extra-large, tri-barrelled sniper rifle, my fingers tapping it gently to sweep it into my Altered Space. Too long. I spent too long, and I pay for it. My world becomes fire as the silver-clad, six-limbed creature drops its reflective invisibility cloak and opens fire with a large, shoulder-mounted weapon.

The explosion throws me backward, Sabre�s shield failing first and my Soul Shield nearly half gone. I can do nothing to stop my body from being blasted off the building, the explosion throwing me straight into the air. Still, I trigger the mini-missiles, each tiny warhead roaring through the sky to impact around and on the Enforcer. Even as I fall, the roof collapses, dropping the Enforcer into the building as it crumbles beneath our onslaught.

Recovering from the fall, I stare at the building, rotating through the various vision options available through my helmet. Strangely enough, I see nothing but the shadows of the collapsing building. Nothing until a gleaming spear flies through the air, forcing me to jerk aside in a hasty dodge.

�The Enforcer�s shielded by his�its? hir�s?�armor. I�ll do my best to boost your Greater Detection abilities to outline hir,� Ali says.

A flicker of surprise and curiosity, but I don�t have time to deal with weird alien gender issues and English language limitations.

My sonic pulser opens up in a wave of sound that sets my teeth on edge and disrupts the Enforcer�s equilibrium. Not much, just a second before hir�s helmet shuts down the majority of the noise, but long enough for Ali to tag hir. After that, I let loose a blast from the Inlin, unloading everything in another round of explosions and kinetic death. A small, portable shield flares to life around the Enforcer, deflecting explosives that shatter even more of the building. It groans as supports buckle, dust kicking up everywhere, obstructing my vision even further.

He�s good. Hir�s good. Very good. Even between the shots, hir�s moving, grenades fired from another weapon exploding around me. The next few moments are a running, jumping, shooting, and dodging series of attacks, each of us trying to land a hit. All the while, I attempt to close on hir and the Enforcer attempts to keep the range and evade.

Now.

At the thought, I Blink Step to where I expect hir to be, spinning to cut with my sword and meeting nothing but air. An explosive roars, hitting not me but the air around me as insta-concrete spreads, covering my shield in goop. I shove against the ground, attempting to break free, but it doesn�t help. The gears in Sabre strain, as do my muscles, all of it futilely.

�Move, boy-o. He�s dropping mines all around you!� Ali snaps.

Crouching as much as I can, I shove with both feet. The insta-concrete holds for a microsecond longer, then shatters. Not a second too soon, as the mines explode, throwing me farther into the air. The remnants of concrete and my shield explode at the same time, destroyed as I spin through the air.

�Son of a bitch,� I snarl even as a laser beam cuts into my body.

I twist in space as the beam tracks my movement, melting armor. A Blade Strike tears apart the smoke and dust, clearing my vision as the attack shatters the remote-controlled laser rifle.

�Behind you!� Ali says, sending me an image of the Sect Member setting up a shot with another single-barreled rifle. My Spirit can see him, and that�s all I need.

I�m a second too late, the shot ripping into my back and through my chest, tearing off a third of my hit points before I Blink Step away. Fingers already leaving the trigger, the Sect Enforcer is rolling and moving aside, but hir�s too late for once. A Thousand Blades Blade Strike sends numerous waves of blue and red force through the area beneath me even as I land. Caught in the projected energy strike, the Enforcer can only block and absorb, pink blood flying from injured limbs.

On the ground, too close for hir to run away, we clash. A pair of short swords are in hir�s top hands, one glowing with a sickly green light, the other shimmering at its edge�a clear indicator of a monofilament weapon. Well, as close to monofilament as you can get. A weird glowing stick and a small oval shield are in hir�s bottom hands.

The Enforcer is good. Fast and smart, discarding weapons that get entangled or damaged, switching to new attacks at the drop of a hat. A taser, a whiplike baton that wraps around my sword, a blade that explodes, all of it comes into play as it uses Instantaneous Inventory as I do my soulblade. Too bad for hir, I cheat too. The Freezing Blade I hit hir with initially slows the Enforcer down a bit, and the other strikes I keep piling up slows hir further. Any time hir tries to take my sword from me, I dismiss it and call it back.

The Enforcer's good, but Mikito and Roxley are better. And I�ve trained with them long enough that my edge in Skill and speed shows up. As Mikito has pointed out, Skills are nice, but skill is just as important. That, and a willingness to die.

A thrust with the monofilament blade targeted at my heart. Hir�s over-extended, expecting me to fall back and away. Instead, I twist just enough to ensure I�m not speared directly by it, but I refuse to miss the chance hir�s given me.

I cut sideways, using the momentum of my dodge to disembowel the Enforcer. First the left hand, tearing apart and shattering the shield and destroying the last of its armored suit. Then my right hand, holding a second blade, follows close enough that there�s nowhere to dodge. After that, I take its top arms and head in short order, pinkish blood flowing down around me.

Cradling my side, I realize that Sabre�s wrecked. I pull it back into my Altered Space, discarding what little protection the mecha can provide for now as I force myself to breathe and inject myself with a healing potion. After that, I layer my Healing spells and turn toward where the main fight is happening. Gods, I hope they�re winning.

A plane lies shattered and smoking to the right of me. Tracking a second airborne attacker, the beam weapons of the city swivel, firing again and again. I wonder how I missed the plane exploding, but dismiss it for the moment as I run toward the fight. Scooting around above are Sam�s drones, each with weapons that he controls to snipe at fighters below. Few people care to attack those drones, most too busy with other, larger problems.

Near the plane, the Bone Warrior swings its fist, only to be met with bone-shaking force by Capstan�s axe. Bone is shattered all across the Warrior�s body, showing the yellow flesh beneath as Capstan pushes his attack. Both fighters began with huge amounts of health and defense, but only Capstan has a dedicated high-Level healer, and the difference is telling.

In the center, where the fighting is fiercest, the Sect�s forces are split between guarding forward and dealing with Lana and Mikito and the pets behind. The puppies lunge and bite, tearing into Sect members as Roland pounces and ends anyone who threaten Lana. Anna�s flames keep control of their side of the battlefield, blinding and injuring waves of reinforcements. Fighting by herself, Mikito weaves between a pair of Blood Warrior clones while dealing damaging blows to both and any Sect member unlucky enough to close in on her. She�s a blurred ghost, moving so fast that none can keep up.

In front of Lana and Mikito lie the bulk of our forces. In Amelia�s case, literally. Over her body, another woman crouches, glowing white light coming from her hands held above the fallen Guardian. A glowing bubble explodes from Mike, shimmering forward for a second before collapsing down a bit and repeating, even as the Regional Guardian beats aside a Sect member with his trusty baton. I can see him struggling forward, attempting to close on the Psychic who just stands there, staring at Mike.

�Psychic attacks aren�t really visible,� Ali says, as if I needed an explanation.

Even as Ali speaks, the Psychic flinches as lights spark on a shield around him. Mel bounces off the shield, still firing at the Psychic as other Sect members target him. Fighters on both sides clash, spells exploding in a riot of colors, smoke, and dust twisting in a cyclone of superheated air above the battlefield. A moving ice elemental smacks around a pair of hunters, half-engulfing them, while a musician strums an electric guitar whose music forms famous figures in front of him, literally assaulting his attackers with the power of song.

On my left, Vir stands over the smoking remnants of a twelve-foot-tall metallic creature that bleeds and smokes. Blood drips down Vir�s hand, miraculously not staining his clothing, as he surveys the surroundings before dashing into the middle of the fight. Among the torn remnants of our sentinels, a giant crocodile-like creature swarms forward to intercept Vir.

All of that and more flashes across my vision as I run, mind weighing and balancing where my help will make the most difference. But whatever I do, the answer seems to be quite clear. We�re winning.

Chapter 20

My sprint allows me, roaring, to slam into a Blood Clone. Closer, I can see the differences, the sheer red visage that looks up at me in surprise before it splatters into a waterfall of blood. Mikito uses the distraction to spear her Clone as well and split it apart.

�Punch through the center,� I snap at Mikito. �I�ll get the Psychic.�

�At last,� a voice comes, reverberating through my mind the same way it feels when I speak with Ali. Except this voice feels like a thousand nails going down a chalkboard.

�Oh shit. Boy-o��

Ali never completes his sentence. Thankfully, he doesn�t have to. The information pops up above the Psychic�s head as I stare at him.

Patrag Yn Drnak (Master Psychic Level 1)

HP: 570/570

MP: 1483/2120

Conditions: Mana Enhanced, Psychic Storm, Telekinetic Shield

One second we�re winning. The next, a psychic bomb goes off in all our minds. It�s not super-damaging, at least not to me�the Erethran Honor Guard training helps to allay half of the attack. But it�s powerful and distracting enough that all our people are thrown for a loop. And in a battle of life and death, a single second�s distraction is enough.

A missed dodge. A misfired Skill. A moment of distraction, multiplied dozens of times across the battlefield, is enough to turn the tide of battle. Capstan is slammed in the chest, his body flopping through the air as the Bone Warrior rushes Nelia. Vir�s Skill misfires, his attack failing to form, allowing the crocodile creature to rush him. Roland snarls, missing a Sect member that slips past him to stab Lana in the stomach.

�I must thank you for your attack. If you hadn�t taken action, I could never have convinced the Elders to allow me to sacrifice more Serfs,� the Psychic says directly into my mind. His voice is taunting, glee-filled. Seeing I�m still on my feet, he turns to face me directly.

Forward. I rush forward, Soul Shield back in place. The area around him is packed too tight for me to Blink Step over. At least not on the ground. A second to look, then I reach out for my Skill to Step into the sky.

Too late. A spike of psychic force slams into my mind, shocking me still. I can�t move, forced to freeze in place as an Assassin appears at my side to slam a spear of force into my shield.

A moment, then a naginata strikes, tearing into the hamstring of the Assassin. The Sect member falls even as I stagger forward, bulling aside another attacker with my momentum. My Soul Shield has barely a third left. An explosive projectile hits the shield, the explosion spreading around me to collapse another attacker�s shield and giving me a momentary gap to move through. Before I can move though, another psychic spike slams into my brain. This one brings pain rather than paralysis.

�This isn�t something I can help with,� Ali says as I fall to my knees, an outstretched hand all that stops me from falling on my face.

Liquid warmth drips down my nose, the salty taste of iron on my lips. My free hand rises, Lightning Strike on my lips, when another attack erupts. This time, the pain is so bad, it feels as though I�m crying, warm tears running from my eyes as my brain feels as though it�s being pulled apart. The pain is so great, I can�t even scream.

�I�m impressed. You still live. I wonder what kind of resistances you have to survive this long?� the psychic sends, taunting me. �Oh wait, your friends seem to be doing well. One moment��

Pain again as the psychic bomb goes off. Instead of a spike, it�s a wave that ripples through my mind and jars the cells of my body, making me stagger. While not as powerful as the individual attack, it still hurts.

�That Guardian of yours is very annoying. One moment, I need to kill him.�

�Noooo�� I stagger upward to look around me.

Chaos reigns, our people forced back after their brief resurgence. Amelia is still down, Mel and the healer flanking her prone body. Mike�s bubble is a quarter of the size now, only a small portion of our people covered by it. Those who are protected look steadier, their hit points significantly better. As I step forward, my brain too fried to call forth a Skill, I see the Psychic raising his hand toward Mike.

I can deal with pain. Pain�s a companion, a friend. It�s an artifact of the mind, a brake to stop you from hurting yourself. It�s powerful and strong, but in the end, it�s illusory. Don�t believe me? Then tell me what the hell heartbreak is.

Pain is a mirage, as is anger. A simple thing then. Open up the floodgates and allow that churning sea of rage to push back the pain.

�Ali. FRENZY,� I roar, warning him and my friends.

Then I snap, triggering the Skill. If the Psychic wants to shut down my brain, then I�ll help him. The Psychic�s eyes narrow at my scream. Long hair flows behind him as he flicks his hand, the next Skill effect targeting me instead of Mike.

The psychic spike drills into me, but the pain is secondary. Remote. It means nothing to me, not anymore. Just a number in my display, a little blood on my lips. Swords in hand, I dash forward, cutting and stabbing. A remote part of me note that all my people are pulling back, clearing the way and getting far away from me.

My Soul Shield fails around this time, another blow crushing my outer protection. Not good enough, not by far, as I grab my attacker by the neck. Small neck, smaller torso, a simple squeeze chokes my attacker to death while I acquire a new, fleshy shield.

Another spike of pain, this one carrying a hint of fear. Fear he should, as my eyes glow with undiminished rage as I near the Psychic. Sect members throw themselves at me, trying to slow me down. Some are intercepted by our hunters while the Sect pours on attacks.

I run forward, the Sect member�s body held before me, twitching as each attack pours into his body and tears apart skin and exposes bone. Cruel. Unworthy. I don�t care, not right now. A Lightning Strike forms around my other fist, channeled to the point of my sword. I raise it, releasing the spell to wreak carnage across the muddy, bloody field. Sect members scream as the spell dances, draining my Mana and their lives.

A growing headache as Mana disappears, but it matters not. What matters is that I�m near the Psychic, the long-haired punk scrambling back as he attempts to put some space between us. Too slow, too slow by far. Lightning dances against the edges of his shield, stopped from crossing over even as bolts of elemental fury split away to strike others. His face tightens and the Psychic makes a shoving motion. I skid backward, an invisible force pushing me away.

Twisting at my hips, I throw the smoking corpse at the shield and watch it bounce off, leaving a streak of green blood across the invisible barrier. Three steps carry me closer to strike the shield directly, the glowing arc of my sword crashing against the invisible bubble. The Psychic steps backward, the shield slowly retracting with each blow. A hand comes up, swiping at blood that flows from his nose.

�You Soonak Worm!� he snarls at me, anger lacing his words.

A spike of pain at his words. I don�t care. My focus is on attacking, again and again, smashing my sword into the shield. Occasionally I feel the impact of another attack, another strike that digs into my legs, my chest, my arm. But it�s secondary, utterly secondary to the importance of ending this, of ensuring that the Psychic hurts no one else. My arm feels heavy, the ground slick with muddy blood. Bloody mud?

�Heal him!� Mel on the radio. I wonder which him he is.

�ENACTING PROTOCOL 148.2.8. SECONDARY ASSISTANCE PROVIDED TO OWNER. TARGETING ALL ATTACKERS.�

A soothing warmth rushes over me and my body moves a little better. Ali swoops down, brows furrowed for a second, then he shifts, coming into this world fully. A second later, he glows as beams of light stab at my closest attackers.

An explosion tears at me, flesh burning, nerves screaming. I pick up a giant black marble creature that attempts to wrestle me away and toss it at the Psychic�s shield, throwing my sword a moment later to pin the monster to it. A quick step and I plunge a second blade into the body, punching a hole through the shield.

�Control, boy-o. Control! The Skill should leave you a little more control than this,� Ali screams into my mind, concern in his voice.

I don�t have time to deal with his concerns. After all, the Psychic is still alive and retreating. A hop and skip away, just a little more. But that damn Blood Warrior is there now, blocking my way with his pair of clones.

We dance, me ducking and cutting, attacking with each motion. Sacrificing skill and my body for the opportunities they offer me to hurt, to kill him. In the corner of my eyes, I see Mikito caught in her own dance, fighting that Assassin who nearly speared me while Lana and her pets corral the remaining Sect members, containing those trying to come near me. Sam�s drones are floating above, providing a minor distraction as they hammer at the Psychic�s shield while it continually attempts to reform.

�You will fall!�

A psychic bomb, lashing out at everyone, hits us again. People stagger, pain overwhelming their senses as their minds are assaulted once more. I spin away from a cut and watch as the Sect Assassin slams a blade directly into Mikito�s thigh, impaling it entirely. My sword blocks another cut, disappearing from my hand a second later as I convert my momentum into a lunge. The clone gurgles and explodes, its blood stinging like acid as it coats me. Another wave of soothing light washes over me even as I recover my backfoot, catching a cut high before I drive the blade to the ground and open up my attacker�s defense.

I swing, a Blade Strike hissing from my hands to cut the Blood Warrior while his fingers dance. A moment later, the blood that leaks from me floats, connecting to the Blood Warrior before me. It�s not only my blood though, but the blood all around us is attaching itself in floating red tendrils.

�Regeneration Skill. The more blood there is, the more he�ll heal. You can�t let him keep that up too long,� Ali says, no longer glowing but floating beside me, immaterial once more and looking exhausted.

Laughter bubbles up within me. The Blood Warrior�s fingers freeze for a second, the strands of blood freezing with him as he hears me. A brief hesitation before he continues while I wade forward, my blade seeking his life. If he wants to block me, I�ll take his life too. Another psychic spike attacks me even as the last remaining blood clone blocks my way.

A few slashes and a Blade Strike that makes my head pound later, my Mana dips precariously low as my regeneration is nerfed by the Frenzy. But it doesn�t matter, because the clone is dead and I�m pushing through to the Warrior. A flicker of fingers and the blood around him drops as swords appear in his hands.

�You will not survive this. So I vow on the blood and hearts of my friends,� the Warrior says, sliding back and blocking each of my cuts.

I don�t waste my breath, the Warrior but a speedbump to the Psychic. After so many attacks, the Psychic�s Mana must be drained, much like mine. But still, he was dangerous. Smart usage of the psychic bomb had done a ton of damage to our troops.

No more Mana means no more spells. All I have left to rely on is a little bit of technology and the skills drilled into me by Mikito and Roxley. That, and the rage within my chest. A cut aimed to take out my feet. I take it, letting the blade sink into my calf, which gives way. But it means I have a brief opening. I grab the Blood Warrior�s arm and yank him forward onto my weapon. My sword plunges upward, cutting into his body as I wiggle it around, searching for his heart. A moment�s struggle, the blade in my leg jerked out, but strong as he is, I�m stronger. We jerk and twist, repeated spells of healing landing on me and him, but finally, finally he stops.

Then I�m there, the Blood Warrior�s corpse discarded as I barrel into the Telekinetic Shield. It flashes, seeming to compress like a bubble under my assault before snapping back. In that moment, bullets strike the Psychic, piercing the shield and bloodying him as Sam�s drones target the man.

�Probably a Mana-linked Shield. Impossible to break fully until he runs out of Mana,� Ali says, eyeing the shield that continues to flicker.

A wordless snarl is all I have as an answer for Ali as I pull backward and lunge with both hands on the blade now. It pushes against the soap bubble of a shield, bowing it.

No more bravado, no more taunting. All I see in the Psychic�s eyes is fear as he attempts to back away.

�Why won�t you die?� the Psychic screams.

His hands move, pulling out Mana potions, smoke bombs, and grenades, even a pair of drones and a summoned flying sword. None of those matter, not to me. They�re just distractions that burn and shoot and cut my body while I push forward in a frenzy of rage and pain. Occasional washes of blue and white light hit my body, regenerating and fixing the damage, while Sam�s drones attack the summoned items for me.

It doesn�t matter, because in the end, it�s a battle between my health regeneration and stamina against his Mana regeneration. And unlike him, I have help. The shield pops and my sword driven by enhanced attributes plunges forward, spearing the Psychic in the chest. He coughs up blood, eyes wide with disbelief before he slumps over. Damn glass cannons. I extract my sword the hard way, ripping it out of his prone body, before glaring around me.

His death was satisfying, correct even. But I�m not done, not at all. They dared to attack my city, to hurt my friends. If they want to die, I�ll be happy to fulfill their wishes. A savage grin spreads across my face before I dart forward into battle.

Chapter 21

The only thing sadder than a battle won is a battle lost. Staring at the blood-soaked fields, the corpses of allies and enemies all around me, I find those words ringing through my mind, a minor sense of gratitude that we won floating through me. The smell of burnt flesh mixes with the sharp, acrid sting of melted plastic and corroded metal. Low voices�some filled with pain, others with loss�wash over me, accompanied by a low ringing as my abused hearing recovers. Blood drips from my wounds, skin and muscle restitching themselves, and bones shift and grate within my body, finding their true positions.

Control and clarity returned in dribs and drabs as my enemies fell. Standing alone on a hilltop, my body slowly healing, I wonder for a moment if that�s a good thing. Brief, because for all the usefulness of the Frenzy Skill, losing myself to it like I had was frightening.

Except� could you say I had lost myself to the Skill? Would it not be more correct to say that it had made me more myself? Is a person in a rage no less that person? If they are, then is someone in love considered different? Or are we just sliders on a scale, who we are and what we are changing from breath to breath? In the distance, the sun is briefly occluded by a cloud, darkening the scene before me.

�That Skill, you said it doesn�t do that normally?� I send to Ali as I search for something concrete, something real.

�Exactly. Anger yes, but not that much. It�s probably because you didn�t buy it or gain it from a Class but actually earned it yourself,� Ali says, rubbing his chin as he floats cross-legged beside me. �Add on your usual� hmmm� emotional state, and voila.�

�Voila indeed.� I sigh, rubbing my face. At least I had been more in control, more present than the last time I had triggered that state. Back then, I�d basically had a breakdown. Here, I just didn�t give a damn if I was going to die. All that mattered was their death.

�John�?� Lana says, limping toward me. I look over, staring at the torn and bloodied redhead blankly before I smile tiredly. She returns it, her eyes searching my face before relief comes. �Better. Much better.�

�You don�t like crazy, enraged John?� I say, trying for a light tone that I don�t feel.

�I�m not Betty Ross,� Lana says. At my puzzled look, she sighs. �Bruce Banner�s girlfriend. The Hulk?�

�Oh. Right.� I nod firmly. I was a programmer; of course I knew who Bruce Banner was. The question was, why did Lana?

�I like Liv Tyler and Edward Norton,� Lana says as way of explanation.

�How many did we lose?� I say, breaking the strained lightness as my need-to-know pushes its way to the front.

�Too many,� Lana says, giving me a hug. She winces, pushing away as she wrinkles her nose after catching a whiff of me. �Amelia is badly hurt. Vir promises that Roxley can fix her with the Shop, but she�s in a coma right now. We also lost half of the hunters in Kamloops and a quarter of the Hakarta. And Mel.�

I wince slightly, considering her words. �No one else?�

�No,� Lana says softly, shaking her head. �We were lucky. I doubt they expected our reinforcements. If you hadn�t kept the Psychic busy, it would have been a lot worse.�

�I remember Mikito�� I say softly, recalling the stab.

�The Assassin got away,� Lana says softly, shaking her head. �Ran off when they realized things weren�t going their way. Only reason she�s still alive, I think.�

Exhaling in relief, I let my eyes roam the battlefield again. A corner of my mind, the part that pokes and prods at wounds, notes that Lana failed to mention the actual numbers. Or any civilian casualties. Though I�m hoping, considering we kept the fighting to the outskirts, that there are none. A part of me knows that the details of our fight, the long list of losses still waits for me. But for a moment, for this period of time, I can at least revel in the fact that none of my close friends are dead.

Just for a second.

�What�s our move?� Mike asks, stomping up to me. He�s injured, but like most of us, his body is already healing. Between Spells and Skills and the System�s healing, injuries never last long. At least, not the physical ones.

Among the hunters, Mikito moves quietly, casting her Minor Healing spell while helping others up or, in some cases, aiding in the looting of the corpses.

�They must have pulled everyone they could to hit us before we hit them. My Portal Skill must have frightened them,� I say, mind already having traveled down the likely paths of reasoning. It wouldn�t have taken a military genius to realize how we could concentrate our forces and hit them harder with more safety than they could. And so, they hit us first.

�You want to take over their cities,� Lana says softly, worry evident on her face. �I don�t think our people��

�I�m in,� Mike says, nodding firmly.

�We will accompany you. Our fee was dependent upon the number of cities conquered, after all,� Capstan says as he walks over with Nelia, enhanced hearing obviously useful for more than picking up enemies on the battlefield.

�Our defenses�� Lana objects.

�SHIELD IS AT 38% CHARGE. ALL SENTINELS ARE CURRENTLY DESTROYED. ELEVEN BEAM TURRETS ARE CURRENTLY ACTIVE. PERSONNEL HAVE BEEN DISPATCHED TO BEGIN REPAIRS OF SALVAGEABLE TURRETS,� Kim flashes for us all.

�We won�t bring everyone. Once my Mana is back, just a few of us. We�ll pop in to Merritt, verify it�s clear, then drive to Kelowna. If we�re right, it�s just a bunch of Basic Classes left. If that�s true, we�ll pop open a Portal here and wipe them,� I say.

�A solid plan,� Capstan agrees softly as he unstraps his axe and places it on the ground, head first. Hands on the shaft, he nods at Mike and Nelia.

Pursing her lips, Lana stares at us before speaking. �Fine. But take Roland. He can keep up with your bikes�� At the look on my face, she stops. �What?�

�Sabre doesn�t work,� I say. �She�ll be weeks before she�s useable again. So I was hoping��

�To use the puppies?� Lana says, her eyes narrowing with disapproval.

�Well��

�If they don�t come back, you better not either,� Lana says threateningly. Some might consider that an idle threat, but I know it�s not.

�Of course.�

�We would not dream of it. Beast Tamer.�

�I�ll prioritize their healing.�

A short hop later, we found ourselves in Vernon. This time around, it took us only a few minutes to confirm that the city was really abandoned, without a single soul�hidden or not. Once we confirm that there�s no enemy to fight in Vernon, we head to Kelowna. Not before taking the city of course.

Holding Howard�s body as the puppy runs, his movements eating up ground with ease, I have nothing to do but wonder and worry. Rather than Kelowna, we could have gone straight to Vancouver, but a part of me wants to ensure we take care of the much closer location first. Cover our flanks before we take on the real challenge.

Kelowna is, strangely enough, empty of Sect members. Not of humans though, many of whom are standing around discussing matters in extremely puzzled tones. The group scatters slightly as we approach, concern and tension ratcheting up as they spot our disparate, partly alien team. As the crowd pulls back, I find myself staring at an older gentleman who stands his ground confidently.

�Afternoon, son,� the old-timer greets me, grey eyes flicking over me with casual ease as he leans on the cane in his hand. A Cleanse spell and a new set of clothing ensured that most of us look presentable. At least, on casual inspection. I check his Status bar, amused to see he�s a Level 18 Vintner. �Name�s Kyle Reimer.�

�John Lee,� I say, hopping off Howard and strolling over to shake his hand. Kyle returns the handshake before my gaze returns to the cane.

�An old habit. Bad hip before the change,� Kyle says easily. �Mind telling me what your intentions are? Seems like you�ve got a beef with the Sect.�

�War notification that you were invading went off when you crossed the boundary,� Ali sends to me as an explanation.

�The Sect wasn�t particularly pleased with us taking Kamloops. I�m intending to do the same with Kelowna. Where are they?� I say, eyeing the curiously empty minimap in the corner of my eyes. Not that it�s empty empty, just empty of any hostiles.

�Left in a real hurry about an hour ago.� There�s a low drawl to Kyle�s voice, a wheezy sound that older people have, but there�s still a lot of strength left in there. �Other than grabbing a few of their favored Serfs, they didn�t stop for much. Last we saw, they were headed east.�

�Ah�� I run a map of the province through my mind. East really doesn�t bring them to Vancouver, but considering they have shown the ability to use airplanes, it might just be the most convenient location to gather. �Great. Want a job?�

�Pardon?� Kyle says, startled for the first time since we have started talking.

�I�m about to take the city, but we�re going to be moving soon after. Going to need an overseer of sorts. So, interested?� I say with an encouraging smile.

�And what makes you think you can trust me?� Kyle says, his eyes narrowed. I note that he isn�t actually declining the offer.

�A few things. First, you didn�t jump at the job, so you�ve got some brains. Second, you�re willing to talk so you�ve got some b�courage,� I change what I say, feeling somewhat uncomfortable swearing in front of the older man. �And thirdly, if you do screw around, I�ll just come back and kick your ass.� The last sentence is, of course, chosen with purpose.

�You probably could,� Kyle says, but there�s no hint of fear at his words. �And I�ll let you know that I won�t stand for this Serf nonsense. Or any of these new System laws. We�re still in Canada here, and we�ll still follow our principles. Peace. Order. Good government. And if not, you can send me on to meet my Maker.�

I smile slightly at the older man. Got to admire his balls. Then I turn sideways to point at Mike. �That man�s a friend. He�s also an ex-constable. If I was going to do something other than that, he�d be more than willing to put a stop to it.�

�That true, boy?� Kyle calls to Mike, who nods, his face serious. After a moment of consideration, Kyle nods and offers me his hand. �Then you have a deal.�

�Good. Be back in a sec,� I say before turning to get back on Howard to go to the city center. On the way, I can�t help but ask, �Why hasn�t the Sect sold the city and their buildings?�

�No point. When they declared War on you, it limited their options for sale. Stops either side from selling off all their assets if they think they�re about to lose and forcing the other to purchase it from the System. If you were to do that now, the other side would get it for free and all the Credits would be taken directly out,� Ali says.

�Wait. I can�t sell the town now?� I say, frowning.

�Oh, you can, but if the Sect were to take over the place before peace was declared, they�d just get it free,� Ali replies. I open my mouth, about to protest that doesn�t make sense, before I sense a long sigh. �I�m simplifying the legal process for you. Just trust me, it�d make no sense wasting time selling off assets. And no one smart is going to buy it.�

I could dig into this and I probably will, but right now is not the time. Placing my hand on the floating sphere that makes up this city�s core, I flick through the notifications with practiced ease. Yes, I want to take control. Yes, I�ll hold and wait while you inform the Sect that I�m attempting to grab their property. Yes, I�ll be on tenterhooks while awaiting a potential attack. And finally, yes, I�ll assign rights to someone.

After that, porting to just outside of the Lower Mainland is a simple matter. The Sect abandoning Kelowna wasn�t completely unexpected, but I was caught off guard when all the small towns we passed as we journeyed toward Vancouver itself were devoid of the Sect. Even the normal population was mostly hiding, the constant System notifications and the grapevine alerting all but the most desperate to stay off the streets.

�This is concerning,� Capstan says as we leave the New Westminster city center. Only two major centers left before we reach Vancouver itself. For the most part, we�re just moving, intent on finding the Sect first before we stop to deal with the rest of the administration, especially since no one is stopping us.

�Thinking they�re concentrating their forces in Vancouver?� I say softly.

�Yes.� Capstan looks around and sighs. �It is possible that they have, for the moment, decided that their losses have reached significant enough levels that it is no longer viable to hold position in this Dungeon World.�

�You make that sound worse than a straight-out fight,� Mike chimes in. �I know you guys like fighting, but I�m ready for some peace.�

�At what cost?� Capstan asks, shaking his head. �If they wished peace, they would have sent an envoy. Without one, and with the Redeemer confined to this world, it is unlikely that peace will be achieved.�

�What he�s saying, for those who are a little slow��Ali stares pointedly at me and Mike��is that they�re pulling back to bring their people to another of their many, many fronts. Once they�ve won there, they�ll come back to finish this. And they won�t take you guys so lightly the next time.�

With that morbid thought, the group travels through the remaining cities. Not once do we see a Sect member, and the only real resistance we find is automated weaponry. Realizing that it�s quite likely we would have to pay for repairs, we do our best to limit the damage we do. We stay on guard, previous traps clear in our mind.

Things only change when we finally make it to downtown Vancouver.

When I arrive at the outside of the stone-and-glass coliseum-inspired building that makes up the public library, I find an interesting crowd of individuals. There are three distinct groups, each forming a wedge of the small pie-shaped cluster, arguing with one another. Even without Ali�s prompting, I can tell they�re mostly made up of combat Classers. Or at least individuals like Damian who have risked their lives regularly. It�s the way their eyes keep moving, the relaxed stances with just a hint of tension, their weight distribution and spacing between them. Small things that add up to a bigger conclusion.

�Evening, folks,� I say with a smile, hopping off Howard.

More than a few tense at the sight of Capstan and the puppies, but no one becomes overtly hostile. Still, there�s definitely an unfriendly vibe to it all. Damian�s eyes are a little wide when he sees me and obviously pieces things together.

�And you are?� The question comes from a tall East Indian lady in a simple cream blouse, blue vest, and jeans combo, obviously the leader of one pie wedge of people. Interestingly enough, the late-thirty-year-old has no visible weapons. Even if she is a Mage�and her Mana pool indicates as much�it�s still strange not to have even a single weapon on hand.

�Evening,� greets an older Caucasian gentleman at the same time. He looks to be in his mid-40s, broad-shouldered, with a rifle and sword at his side and his smile is all kinds of welcoming. Except if you looked into his brown eyes, which are devoid of any real warmth.

Seeing that they spoke to me at the same time, the pair glares at each other.

I�m almost tempted to let them continue, but I decide against it and answer both. �Evening. I�m John Lee, and these are my friends.� I quickly introduce each of those behind me, not forgetting to include the puppies and Roland. Of course, I leave out their Classes and Levels, though I can see more than a few people whispering that information to others.

�What are you doing here?� the East Indian lady snaps at me, hands on her hips.

�I�m going to take control of the city, of course, Anika,� I say with a smile while pointedly using her name. Anika Kapoor, Level 39 Summoner.

�Christian Hecker,� the older man announces softly as I turn to him. Level 38 Infantry Soldier. First one I�ve seen actually. �It seems that you have some knowledge about what is going on. Perhaps you�d care to inform us.�

�Well, I�d be happy to chat. After I�ve removed the Sect�s control,� I say, stepping forward.

The group actually contracts slightly, obviously intent on stopping me. My eyes sweep over the fifty or so combat Classers, none of them above Level 40. These must be the �elites� Damian spoke of. Or at least a portion of them. Interestingly enough, the third part of the wedge, which includes Damian, doesn�t move.

�I�m sorry, but we can�t let you do that just yet,� Christian says, regret tingeing his voice. However, there�s none of it in his body. Politeness for politeness� sake it seems.

�What makes you think we�re going to let you take our city? If the Sect is gone, we sure ain�t going to just let you take it,� Anika says as she glares at me.

�Well�� I try to figure a diplomatic way of saying this.

�Look, kids, you couldn�t stop my boy-o if you wanted to. Not him alone, and certainly not with his pals,� Ali says as he makes himself visible to everyone. I see more than a few hands and weapons rise up before stopping.

�Just a little confident for a Level 40, aren�t you?� Anika says with a smirk.

�This is going to be a thing, isn�t it?� I say exasperatedly.

The flat looks Anika and Christian provide me are more than answer enough. Beside me, I see Mike moving forward to say something while Capstan and Nelia stand next to the pets, watching the surroundings. While the library square is wide open and clear, there are buildings around us, some of which could easily contain snipers. In fact, they probably do contain snipers.

If Lana was here, perhaps we would have sat down and talked to them. But the lady is back in Kamloops, taking care of our people. And I�ve just finished a very long day, one filled with blood and death. And these people just want to keep arguing, talking about who is the top dog. All these thoughts and the bubbling frustration over the day�s events filter through my mind in seconds. By the time Mike reaches me, I�ve made up my mind.

Blink Step doesn�t require me to be moving to activate; it just requires sight. I�m next to Anika in a second, a foot sweeping out and dropping her, a sword pressed against her neck as I crouch over her. Another hand lights up, Lightning Strike forming in the palm I point toward Christian. I don�t let it loose, since right now, all I�m doing is posturing. Unfortunately, before I can open my mouth to speak, I�m cut off.

�Blink Step. Enhanced Lightning Strike. Mana Imbue and a Soulbound sword.� Damian�s voice carries quietly, his eyes raking over my body. �His Soul Shield will also deflect most attacks. At least, long enough for him to finish this.� I raise an eyebrow at Damian, who shrugs. �What? You want them to fight you?�

�Well, I was hoping to�� I frown as I�m interrupted by a punch to my body. It doesn�t actually penetrate the Soul Shield, but the flaring of the shield and the sense of pressure catch my attention.

Still held down, with a trickle of blood from where she cut herself as she shifted, Anika snarls at me, her hand still glowing. �Get. Off. Me.�

I pause, making sure she knows that I�m doing this on purpose before I slowly stand. As it is, I�m already surrounded by the wedges. �As my friend said, I can take you. All of you.� Okay, that�s probably a bit of an exaggeration, but I�m not going to tell them that. �But the point of this is if you can�t even stop me, what makes you think you can hold up against the Sect? Or anyone else?�

�You would have us give control of our city to you? To rule at your whims?� Christian says, some of the politeness slipping from his tone.

�I�m not very whimsical,� I reply, looking around the group. �But right now, arguing about who�s going to own the city forgets one thing. The Sect still does. So I�m going in and taking it away from them. Then we can talk about what happens afterward.�

�And if we don�t like what you have to say? You going to beat us all up? Might makes right?� Anika says, her voice tinged with contempt.

�Not right perhaps, but certainly effective. Until you can defend the city from me, or anyone else interested in it, you really don�t have the qualifications to argue,� I say, eyes sweeping over the group. �Or have you forgotten what happened the last time you had a little revolution?�

The moment I say that, I realize I might have pushed things too far. The way many bristle, growl, and even hunch down means I�ve hit a sore spot.

Thankfully, Damian breaks the silence and holds up his hands, stepping backward. His movements sparks movement in his group, who backs off too. �We�ll let you take it. For now. But we will have a longer discussion.�

�If you swear to hold a meeting to discuss both the Sect�s actions and yours, I will, reluctantly and temporarily, agree to you taking control of the city,� Christian says. �Understand that we will be watching you.�

�Of course,� I say, though I really just want to say �yeah, yeah, yeah.� But I�m no child, and while I hate playing these political games, it�s better than an all-out fight. Using my Skills was to show my strength. But too much and I�ll push them into a corner and we will end up swinging. And that�s the last thing I want.

Anika growls at me, her eyes moving to my friends and the puppies then me before she touches the already closed wound at her neck. Rather than speaking, she steps back reluctantly, since the other two sides have given way.

With the path clear, I give a command to the rest of my team to keep watch, then I walk onward. I�m not surprised, though somewhat annoyed, that once again, the group in play is mostly combat Classers. Well, outside of the scavenger group of Damian�s, which even then is made up mostly of combat Classers. It�s a pattern we�ve noticed again and again. For all their talk of equality, it�s always the combat Classers who take the lead, swinging around their oversized swords.

Thoughts like that take me to the top floor of the library and the city center orb. Thoughts like that keep me busy until I take over the city, send a note to Lana and co., and another note to Ingrid before replacing the security measures I damaged on my way in. Luckily, repairing things is cheaper than buying them outright. For the most part.

�So, boy-o, they did bring up a good point,� Ali says.

�Hmmm?� I say to the Spirit as I turn around to head downstairs. I glance at the restored metal door, stationary gun turrets, and traps as I walk out. �What point?�

�You really should consider creating your own group. Right now, if you die, everything reverts to the System. Without an organization of sorts, you�re just� well, you.�

�They didn�t�� I sigh, shaking my head. Whatever. Ali can jump to whatever conclusion he wants. He still is right. But for this second, I�d rather not consider it. For all the blood and tears, for all those lost, we�ve managed to succeed. Vancouver is ours. The Sect, as best we can tell, has withdrawn from BC. It might be a short-term ceasefire, a moment�s respite, but it is real. We have won the fight, if not the war.

And for that, I�m grateful. In this blasted world, small moments of peace and gratitude are all we can hope for. So I�ll take it and the Portal back to Kamloops and leave the worries about what to do next for another day.

###

The End of Book 4

John and company will be back in Coast on Fire (Book 5) with more problems!

Author�s Note

Thank you for reading Book 4 and I hope you enjoyed it. This book was a real struggle to write, with some aspects of the System and the larger Galactic System requiring backend fleshing out before I could go ahead. In addition, I struggled a lot with how much to include in the settlement building, between my own desire to explore the concepts involved and John�s reluctance to actually get his hands dirty.

I�d like to reiterate that I am grateful for the support all of you have provided. While I�d still be telling myself John�s story, I certainly wouldn�t be spending time writing it. ☺

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating!

Make sure to follow John�s continuing quest in Book 5 � Coast on Fire: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GT69BBLhttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GT69BBL(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GT69BBL)

In addition, please check out my other series, the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional LitRPG fantasy) and the Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy GameLit series_. Book one of each series follow:

A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BV7PY1G)

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About the Author

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Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s

Resolve

Greater

Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand

Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 2)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with mana to deal more damage on each hit. +15 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

Blade Strike (Level 2)

By projecting additional mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 20 feet away.

Cost: 35 Stamina + 35 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 30 cubic feet. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to 1 kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills, and ambient mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

A Thousand Blades (Level 1)

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1 - Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Portal (Level 3)

Effect: Creates a 2-meter by 2-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 1,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Shrunken Footprints (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Effect: Tech Link allows user to increase their skill level in using a technological item, increasing input and versatility in usage of said items. Effects vary depending on item. General increase in efficiency of 10%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Sabre

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (III)

Effect: Heals 35 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Effect: Creates four darts out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 15 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 25 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by20% per level of affinity

Greater Regeneration

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 5%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Fireball

Effect: Create an exploding sphere of fire. Deals 150 points of fire damage to those caught within. Sphere of fire expands to 3 meters radius (on average). Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 100 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces affected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing

Effect: Heals 75 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 50 Mana

Mana Drip

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 5%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Sabre�s Load-Out

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)

Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)

Soft Points: 3 (2 Used)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception

Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)

Ammo Capacity: 45/45

Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent

Ares Type II Shield Generator

Base Shielding: 2,000 HP

Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked

Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)

Battery Capacity: 6/6

Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds

Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm

Monolam Temporal Cloak

Requirements: 1 Hardpoint, Tier IV Mana Engine

Duration: Varies depending on cloaking level

Type II Webbing Mini-Missile

Base Damage: N/A

Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.

Cost: 500 Credits

Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser

Base Damage: 25 per second

Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.

Cost: 25,000 Credits

Other Equipment

Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 18

Battery Capacity: 24/24

Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU

Cost: 1,400 Credits

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 57

Battery Capacity: 17/17

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 98

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +10 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 0/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Coast on Fire: An Apocalyptic LitRPG (The System Apocalypse Book 5) Wong, Tao

Coast on Fire

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 5 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

Coast on Fire

ISBN: 9781775380931

The End of Book 5 of the System Apocalypse

Author�s Note

About the Author

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Skills

Spells

Sabre�s Load-Out

Other Equipment

What Has Gone Before

Nearly two years have passed since the System came to Earth, bringing with it monsters, aliens and glowing blue boxes of notifications that detailed their lives in this new Galactic System. Humanity was forced to evolve, their lives dictated by statistic screens, Classes and Skills that gave them strength and abilities beyond the norm, providing them a fighting chance to survive. Still, the apocalypse saw the death of nearly 90% of humanity, the malfunctioning of everything electronic and a new, blood-filled existence.

As Whitehorse was now firmly under the control of the Truinnar, John and his teammates left for British Columbia to aid the surviving members of humanity. There, they found a mixed bag of survivors and settlements. Some cities were ravaged, destroyed in infrastructure, population and hope. Others struggled on, under the control of other aliens and human control. Working together, the survivors and John battled the aggressive Thirteen Moon Sect in their attempts to take over British Columbia, eventually winning against the larger, more powerful alien organisation.

Now the owner of numerous settlements in British Columbia including Vancouver, Kamloops and Kelowna, John must deal with the politics of the settlements and continue with his plans of liberating as much of humanity as possible.

Chapter 1

I�ve kited a Salamander over forty Levels above me. Had a Master Level Psychic fry my brain. Hell, I�ve even faced down a Dragon. I�ve faced calamities and crises, fought and bled, nearly died more times than I care to admit. For all that, I�d rather go back to any of those times than stay a single minute longer in this meeting room.

�Electronic voting is a farce! We cannot trust his AI to count the votes!� Christian Hecker, Level 38 Infantry Soldier and ex-CEO of a gold mining corporation, says as he leans forward. The mid-60s, brown-eyed, greying Caucasian gentleman is bereft of his rifle today, though he has his sword slung over his back and a pistol on his hip.

I regard the boomer as he besmirches Kim�my AI�s�honor, wondering what his angle is. As one side of the split Combat Classers, I�ve quickly learned that Christian always has an angle.

�We�re not doing a straight democratic election,� snaps Damian. The Level 22 Appraiser is spinning a pen around his fingers, obviously uneasy in our company. He�s got the lowest Level of everyone here, even if it is rising faster now that the Thirteen Moon Sect isn�t around. Still, as the voice of the scavengers, he has the moral right to be here. One that I�d had to enforce by dismissing an earlier meeting when he had been �unavoidably delayed.� �That�d just let you people load up all the seats with your friends.�

�You people?� Anika arches a graceful, plucked eyebrow. Ms. Kapoor, the Level 39 Summoner, is one of the few non-Caucasians in this room.

�I believe he means the non-Delvers,� I answer Anika, smiling slightly in amusement at Damian�s poor phrasing.

She inclines her head to me, appearing somewhat mollified. Truthfully, I figure getting annoyed over bad phrasing shows how uptight she is, but my role isn�t to judge, just pacify.

�Rationed seats are wrong,� Tsien Wuji says. He�s a Level 39 Engineer specializing in infrastructure construction. He�s also an influential member of the non-Combat Classers, Damien�s counterpart, and the other of the pair of their representatives, the more talkative of the two.

�Allocated,� Leo Brand says with a sigh, covering his face with his hand.

There are a few quick smiles around the room as Leo once again corrects Wuji�s malapropism. Leo�s an ex-ER doctor, now a Doctor who finds most of his life�s work superfluous. After all, with the System, if you�re not dead, you�ll heal. And since he�s a self-professed coward who refuses to enter the city dungeon, he�s been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself.

�Will you finally buy a Language upgrade in the Shop? I�ll even pay for it,� Anika says once again with a roll of her eyes.

�No need. Waste money,� Wuji denies her offer once again.

�We cannot continue this farce of a government any longer. My people want results!� Christian says, ignoring the byplay as he pushes ahead with his agenda. �They are sick and tired of being locked out of decisions about their city.�

�Farce?� Ali says, floating visible beside me. The two-foot-tall Sprite chuckles softly, his olive skin beautifully off-set by the dark suit and cream shirt he wears. �Did you call boy-o a farce?�

�Farce?� Wuji whispers to Leo. His friend leans over to explain the word.

�I consider this unelected government, this tyrannical rule of your boy-o a farce,� Christian says.

When we first met, Christian had been the less combative of the pair of combat Classer leaders. The last week of dealing with me has worn away the false warmth he showcased before I rejected his subtle manipulation and, later on, bribes.

�It�s certainly better than what we had with the Thirteen Moons,� Anika says, waving around the noisy conference room. The wave also encompasses my only direct support in the room�Lana, my girlfriend and the more politically inclined part of my team. Though, by common agreement, she stays silent during these meetings, letting me take the brunt of criticism and allowing her to work her charm during the breaks. �We�re at least having a meeting. Even if someone doesn�t listen to us.�

Finally fed up with the various barbs, I speak up. �I�d listen if you people ever came to an agreement.�

�We would, but your irrational requirements are impossible to meet!� Christian snaps.

�Oh? All I�m asking is that you all come to a reasonable agreement on what the government would look like,� I say. �I�m only here today because you promised me that you would have an agreement by today.�

�We promised that we�d have something to discuss with you,� Anika says, eyes dancing with humor. �I�ll admit, we haven�t gotten that far though.�

�Fine. Since I�m here, someone sum up the sticking points.�

Silence takes hold of the conference room at those words. The various �council� members suddenly find anywhere to look but at me. Wuji opens his mouth to speak, but Leo puts his hand on the man�s arm, shaking his head. The older Chinese man subsides, allowing Damian to clear his throat.

�Well, we�re currently facing a problem of deciding both the number of seats on the council and the method of election. The Delvers and ummm� my people, are looking for a guarantee that our voices will be heard. We refuse to continue to risk our lives, bringing in more revenue and goods than the ummm�� Damian stops there.

�You can call them civilians. Or crafters if you want,� Ali offers. �The closest translation to the Galactic term is Artisan. Feel free to use it or not.�

Damian nods in gratitude to Ali before he continues more confidently. �The Artisans want a straight election, but because of the ratio of combat Classers and Artisans��

�Are you sure you want to base your argument on revenue?� Anika says wryly. �They�ll eventually beat us, you know. In fact, I wouldn�t be surprised if their generated revenues are already greater than ours if you include the other cities.�

�That�s not the point!� Christian says. �We are just trying to ensure we are not sent into battle and forced to guard people, without a say!�

Damian sighs and looks at me, his gaze serious. �I must admit my people have that concern too. Scavenging is growing more and more difficult with returns growing smaller. Sooner or later, I expect that most of my people will turn into hunters or delvers. And at that point, well��

�We don�t want the Artisans sending us into dangerous zones just so they can get better crafting material. Or under-paying for those items,� Anika says.

�We not do that. The Shop set ceiling. Floor. Stopping place,� Wuji says. �We pay good price. Get materials from you.�

�A good price because you want the city to subsidize the purchases!� Christian snaps. �Otherwise, there�s no way you�d be able to afford the Galactic price for most of our better material.�

I sigh, listening to the argument devolve. No real surprise here. I�ve had Lana explain this discussion before, since it�s similar to the one we had in Whitehorse. Simply put, low-cost materials almost always receive a better price locally. The cost of transportation often makes it possible for local Artisans to purchase those materials at a similar, if not slightly higher, price than what Galactic buyers would pay. However, and this is a big however, high Level materials aren�t the same. The cost of transportation for high-Level materials is significantly lower as a percentage of price, which means Galactic buyers, who are both more numerous and better funded, can often offer a higher price than locals. Part of the reason is that for Artisans to gain Levels, they need to constantly challenge themselves with better materials. It�s also one of the reasons why the cost of high Level enchantments and equipment climbs steeply.

It doesn�t help that since we�re on a Dungeon World with a consummate increase in Mana flow, we actually have a larger number of spawnings. That means that the volume of low-to-medium quality crafting material is higher, which of course results in greater efficiencies in transportation since Galactic corps can do larger mass teleportations or send bigger transport ships. All in all, it means that our crafters are in a bad competitive situation.

�We must Level!� Wuji insists.

�But taxing our purchases and sales puts our lives at risk,� Anika says softly. �We need that equipment, those Class Skills. You don�t put your lives at risk every time you try to Level.�

�So we�re not as important?� Leo says without heat. �Our lives don�t matter?�

�You�re not risking yours,� Christian snaps.

I groan, watching them start up again. That barely attracts any attention, so I smack my hand on the table, grabbing everyone�s attention. �All right, people. I�ve got another meeting to go to, so you guys keep talking. We�ll talk again in another week.�

�That�s��

�No, we need to��

�These delays are unacceptable!� Christian says, standing.

�That�s nice,� I say with a smile to everyone, ignoring the various protests as I open a Portal.

Lana and Roland, her pet tiger, duck into the Portal first. The pitch-black hole in space swallows them without a ripple. Three quick steps, even while the council calls for me to come back, and a closed Portal later, I�m free.

A grin splits my face as I draw a deep breath of the sweet, sweet air of freedom.

�Ack!� I cough, a burning pain in my throat and lungs.

You are Poisoned

-3 HP per second

Duration: (Continuous till you are out of the cloud)

�Where did you bring us?� Lana says, her voice muffled by the helmet she�s put on.

A moment later, my helmet expands from the collar around my neck, covering my face and clearing the air. I�m still poisoned, but it�s no longer dangerous as my System-assisted healing fights the toxin.

�Just outside of Kelowna actually,� I say with a frown, sword in hand as I survey our surroundings. Poison clouds aren�t normal, as far as I know. I have to admit, I�ve only been here thrice since the change.

�Floating Poisonous Cloud. Not sure why, but it seems to be directed by the wind. Kim�s telling me that wisps of this have hit the city, but nothing major. They�re keeping the kids and other vulnerables inside, but prevailing winds will have the cloud gone in an hour,� Ali says as he stares at notifications only he can see.

�Ali says it�s natural. Sort of. Nothing to be concerned about,� I tell Lana. She nods firmly, and we walk toward to the city. After a moment, I realize something. �Where�s Roland?�

�He�s already left.�

�Ah� good.� I nod and keep walking. Ever since she picked up the tiger, he�s become her constant companion, even more than the puppies. �Wanted to ask you something. You�ve been hovering at Level 49 for a while now. Is something going on?�

�Nothing major. I�ve been channeling my experience to Roland to upgrade his Level. You remember, he was a bit on the lower end when we found him.�

�You can do that?�

�It�s a benefit of being a Linked companion for me. Makes it easier to find new companions and upgrade them. It only works until he hits my Level, then we�ll upgrade at the same time.�

�Are you going to continue that till he hits Level 49?� I say, trying to recall Roland�s Level now�32 or something like that?

�Not sure yet,� Lana says.

I nod, and we continue the walk in silence through the invisible cloud of poison, enjoying the beautiful, sunshine-lit valley, verdant plains with the occasional pine trees, and the river beside us, glittering with blue.

�Why did you drop us out so far?�

�Oh� umm�� I stutter. �Well��

Lana arches an eyebrow at me before the buxom redhead takes my arm and squeezes her bountiful treasures into me. �Were you thinking of taking me for a walk?�

�Well� yeah. It�s beautiful out here. Except for the cloud�� I sigh, shaking my head. �We haven�t� well�� I fall silent, still uncomfortable talking about things like this.

Lana smiles, bonking her helmeted head against mine with a friendly nudge. �You couldn�t have known. It was very sweet, and it is still beautiful.�

I smile at that, relaxing slightly and giving the arm that holds mine a squeeze. For the next while, I can afford to just be a man walking his lady, talking about our days. For a while, I can put aside the niggling questions of what the Sect is doing, if the Duchess intends to expand south, and what, if anything, I�ll do about the Americans.

For a little while.

Kelowna has seen better days. The once-picturesque town beside the river is still beautiful from a distance, but if you get closer, you notice the burnt-out buildings, abandoned vehicles, and occasional brown lawn. There�s a desolate feeling to the city, which is significantly magnified in the abandoned outskirts.

Luckily, it takes us a while to receive the �entering Town� notification. The Sect was kind enough to actually decrease the settlement boundary to just East Kelowna, and even then, only the downtown region near the river and a bit east of that is considered Town. I�m grateful for them spending their funds on that, because otherwise, the settlement itself would still be in the Village stage, unable to reach the minimum land-owned threshold.

I still find it amusing that somehow, the town�s City Center is the Benvoulin Church, rather than a more central location. I�m sure there�s a study with a complex mathematical analysis of why each location is picked, especially for Dungeon Worlds, but that�s a book even I refuse to read. I�m still debating if I should pay to shift the city center orb somewhere safer and more central, but for now, the church works.

As we walk into the historical, picturesque steepled place of worship, we�re greeted by the titular overseer of the city. The older gentleman waves his show cane at me, no longer needing it thanks to the System, and greets me with a smile.

�John!� Kyle says. �Didn�t expect you till later.�

Kyle Reimer (Level 18 Vintner)

HP: 130/130

MP: 240/240

Conditions: None

�Afternoon, Kyle,� I say, smiling. �I cut my other meeting short. They�� I glare at Lana after she elbows me, shooting me a warning glance. After a second, I realize her point and turn back to Kyle. �Well, here I am. Shall we go in?�

Kyle smiles slightly, seeing the interplay and probably reading a lot more into what I didn�t say than he should have had the opportunity to. I�m still not used to this entire �being a leader� thing, but Lana is right. Bitching about one settlement to another is probably not a good idea.

�No need. I understand you upgraded your AI to allow you to upgrade any of your settlements without touching the core?� Kyle says.

�Yup, bits-for-brains is good to go,� Ali says, making himself visible as he floats upside down, watching a System-generated TV screen the right way around. The fact that I can see his screen means Ali�s messing with me. Again.

�Good. Then I�ve got a few things to show you,� Kyle says with a wave.

I nod, glancing at the building and absently offering a nod to the god who�s supposed to be inside. Not that I believe in Him, but my father ground respect into me. And if He is real, well� a little respect won�t hurt.

�To begin, I thought you�d like to see the mall? It�s our main trade hub for now��

Lana and I nod, and the trio of us take off, walking through the streets to the mall. Kyle prattles on, filling us in on the town and how things have gone. Kelowna was an interesting case in the settlements I own. Due to its number of surrounding vineyards, it had seen a significant immigration of Alchemists, Chemists, Biologists, and other alien Artisans intent on studying the change the System has brought about. And exploiting it of course.

�So everyone is happy about the Sect leaving, including the aliens,� Kyle finishes. �Seems like they were trying to drive away a number of our earliest immigrants. The only big issue we have is that we�re struggling to work out the legal aspects of having so many different alien groups in the city. Our Lawyers and Accountants are struggling to understand the differences in the various corporations and organizations that have purchased land in the city, especially because many of them are claiming specific tax exemptions that we�ve never heard of.�

�Capital L and A? Or just old time professionals?� I say, curious.

�Mostly. A few took up other Classes but have gone back to their original professions, but most of those have dual-Classed,� Kyle explains. �Getting that first Level took a while, but at least they don�t have to discard their combat Classes. Some are just doing the job without the Class.�

I grunt in acknowledgement. I wouldn�t want to discard my combat Class to become a Lawyer either. In this world, being able to kick ass makes a lot of difference. As things settle down, more and more knowledge about the System keeps cropping up. The fact that it�s not only possible but relatively easy to dual-Class is something those in Kelowna learned early on and disseminated to the other settlements. Not that I�m intending to change my Class.

�Did they buy the Skill to divvy up their experience?� Ali asks and, at the puzzled glances all around, rolls his eyes. �There�s a Class Skill called� ummm��

�PORTION CONTROL.�

�Right, Portion� wait, that�s not what it�s called,� Ali says, glaring at the notification window created by Kim, my AI. Sniggers abound at the Spirit�s grumpy response. �Anyway, it�s a Skill similar to Lana�s, except you can only use it on yourself. You can portion out part or all of your experience to a specific Class rather than having an even split. Makes it possible to Level both, unlike a complete changeover.�

�I still think that keeping your first Class is a much better idea,� Lana says, shaking her head. �Especially if it�s a combat Class. Hard enough Leveling one Class, but having to switchover midway? That�s insane, especially with the increased experience gain requirements.�

�Not everyone wants to be a fighter, my dear,� Kyle says with a smile. �In fact, most of us are happy that things are settling down. It�s why we want your boy to grant the Adventurer�s Guild�s request as soon as possible. Once they�re established, we can seriously work on getting our fields back.�

�And you�re happy with the fact that so many of your fields have been bought by others?� I say with a frown.

�Happy isn�t the right word. Maybe resigned? It�s better than having the land become a spawning ground. And you might have noticed we lost a lot more people than most. Most of the original landowners are either absent or dead, and what we have is a large number of Galactic aliens and temporary workers,� Kyle says with a shrug and a small smile. �The few who are around� well, let�s just say some people have upgraded their places.�

I snort but take his word for it. Not my place to handle the day-to-day operations. It�s why I hired the older gentleman. In fact� �Have you looked at gene editing?�

�Looked at it,� Kyle says evasively.

�Kyle�?�

�Look, young man, when you�ve reached the age I have, well, adding a few extra years isn�t as attractive as you might think. All my friends are dead. Most of my family is too.� At our wince, he adds, �Long before this. My wife succumbed to cancer a few years ago, and we never had kids. My brother died from a stroke a week before the change. This new world, it�s interesting. I want to help, but I�m tired. At a certain point� well, it�d be nice to have a rest.�

I grunt and drop the topic unhappily. Maybe I�ll bug him later, but for now, I leave it. I find it hard to believe that any man who�s managed to survive an entire year plus in this post-System world is the kind to roll over and die because he�s �tired.� Now it�s just a matter of making Kyle see that too.

�Anyway, we were talking about that Adventurer�s Guild. We�ve got four applications, each with their own people in town already�� Kyle says, changing the topic.

I stay silent, listening to Kyle and his opinions. It is, after all, why I came. The Settlement Screen might give me numbers and facts, but the in-person reports give me context.

Exhausted, I collapse onto my couch, grateful that the System continues to keep my Whitehorse residence in good shape. Early summer in Whitehorse means that at eight o�clock at night, the sun is still shining brightly, bringing the bright greens and blues to life. The transition from somewhat setting sun in Kelowna to bright light in Whitehorse had been slightly disorienting the first time I�d done it, but this time around, it seems natural. The only pity is that Lana decided to stay in Kamloops with her pets to spend more time with Mikito. Making multiple jumps to get home is annoying, but it seems to affect others more than me.

Silence. Blessed silence. Which is interrupted by a knocking on my door. I frown, then frown even more when I see who it is on my minimap. Resolutely, I ignore the knocking.

�John, I know you�re in there.� Roxley�s voice is authoritative and commanding. Not because he�s trying to order me around but because that�s just the way he is. Even so, I have to admit that voice does things to me that wouldn�t be polite to mention in company.

Lord Graxan Roxley. Duke of the Yukon. The Duchess of the Pourquoi States�s errand boy on Earth. A tall, dark drink of muscle, nobility, and charisma. Someone I flirted with for a time�before the son of a bitch betrayed me and the city of Whitehorse by joining the Duchess. For all that, I can�t help but be slightly interested in seeing him again�

�I�m coming in. Don�t shoot.�

I growl softly, deciding that I won�t shoot him or even deign to stand. Instead, I put my elbow and arm over my eyes and stay flopped on my couch. It�s only when an uncomfortable amount of time has passed that I move my hand away to see Roxley leaning against the doorjamb, staring at me with a look that dries my throat.

Down, boy. I�ve got a girlfriend.

Even if she�s hinted that she�s not entirely opposed to�

Down, boy.

Down.

I clear my throat and subtly shift my position by sitting up. Damn pretty dark elf. �What are you doing here?�

Roxley smirks before he straightens up, his face falling into a more serious expression. �As Her Grace�s representative on Earth, I am here to greet the Redeemer of the Dead upon his entrance to her city and inquire about his intentions.�

�I�m here to sleep,� I state tersely. �Do you know how hard it is to not be bothered when I�m in my cities? Everyone wants a word with me. All. The. Damn. Time. I�ve got people literally walking into my house, demanding to talk to me about their latest pet project. Droids for recycling plastic, refurbishment of the kids� playgrounds, a grant for Galactic languages, and on and on.�

�I keep telling boy-o if he shoots the first few, they�ll stop bothering him,� Ali says, waving hi to Roxley.

�Ali. I believe someone is awaiting you�?� Roxley says leadingly, getting a big grin from the Spirit who flickers then disappears. If I�m not wrong, the damn Spirit has gone to visit Roxley�s AI to gossip once more. I�m still a little perturbed by what goes on on the backend between the two, but interrogating Ali has offered little answers.

Damn traitor. Then again, Ali has never seen my problem with Roxley and his actions.

�Ah. And you have no intentions of expanding your territory?� Roxley continues once we�re alone.

�Not up north, no,� I say, eyes narrowing. �And you?�

�The Duchess has stated that she has no intentions of expanding beyond your Watson Lake. Our intentions involve the north and the resource fields and zones therein,� Roxley says, waving. �Our main point of focus is expanding the Towns of Whitehorse, Anchorage, and Fairbanks to Cities, thus increasing their respective zones of control.�

�I see�� My eyes narrow as I try to decide how much I believe him. In the end, I decide to do so, mostly because I understand how much work Roxley has ahead of him. It makes no sense for the Duchess to take control of a bunch of lower Level zones when she hasn�t completely controlled the areas she already �owns.� Higher Level zones provide higher Level goods, which mean more money�never mind the Level-tourism revenue she stands to earn.

�On a personal basis, I am surprised to see you back. Are you not concerned about the Weapon Master?� Roxley says with a raised eyebrow.

�That�s why I sent Ali through first.� I grin then shrug. �I�m done running. I�ve gotten a few Levels since we last danced. And anyway, way I understand it, he�s gone for now. I doubt he�ll be back so soon.�

�Risky.� Roxley sighs, giving up on admonishing me. �And is that all the reason for returning? Nothing personal?� At my flat stare, Roxley sighs again. �Well then, as Her Grace�s representative, I do extend my offer of aid in any matters of administration.�

�Why?�

Pain and regret at my brusque attitude flicker across his face before he resumes a neutral expression. �Your presence south of our holdings is considered a benefit to Her Grace. You are much less likely to be combative than the Sect or any other, hmmm, foreign interests that may appear. As such, the stronger your government, the greater the benefit.�

�Great�� I drawl as I assess the sincerity of his, and her, offer. �And what does this offer amount to? Credits? Technology? Maybe some Skill orbs?�

�None of the above, I fear,� Roxley says. �While we do wish to aid you, the aid must be proportional. Advice, at this time, is the best we can offer.�

�Advice,� I say, sarcasm dripping from my voice. �Right, I�ll make sure to ask for it. Now, I was here to sleep��

�John��

But I�ve already slumped back on the couch, arm thrown over my face in a copy of the same pose from before. Except this one radiates anger.

�Ms. Olmstead is doing well with treatment. I expect she will be on her feet within the next few days.�

Sensing that I won�t say anything, Roxley sighs, after which I hear the stomp of his feet leaving the house. I grunt in mild happiness, glad to be left alone and for the news he imparted.

Here to help. Har! Advice my ass.

It�s much later, when I�ve finished stewing, that I manage to actually calm down enough to do what I had Portalled all the way north for. Since I�m currently limited to 1,000 KM per jump, I actually had to cast it thrice�once to Kamloops, then again into the middle of nowhere before arriving. I did kind of feel bad that I didn�t spend more time in Kamloops visiting Lana and Mikito, but needs must come first. At the thought of the little Japanese Samurai, I made myself a promise to visit with her. Losing her apprentice, then Mel, in short order has resulted in Mikito withdrawing once again. While she isn�t suicidal, she has grown quieter and more subdued. It�s why Lana left the puppies behind with her�their furry presence is a good healing aid. Anna, on the other hand, is just getting lazy, preferring to sleep than go gallivanting with us on our errands.

Too many damn things to do and not enough time. I�ve been so busy, I haven�t even dealt with the numerous notifications I received from the knockdown, drag-out fight with the Sect. Including that most important of ones�my Level Up. With a mental command, my Status Screen populates.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist

Health

1970

Stamina

1970

Mana

1510

Mana Regeneration

111 / minute

Attributes

Strength

106

Agility

187

Constitution

197

Perception

Intelligence

151

Willpower

151

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footprints*

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Being part of such an insane battle did wonders for my experience. Killing the Sect Enforcer pretty much by myself pushed me most of the way to the top of Level 40. After that, the numerous small fry and the Blood Warrior I dealt with pushed me two-thirds of the way through Level 41. Ending the Master Level Psychic was enough to push me to Level 42 and netted me my third Title, as well as bonus experience for the kill.

Title Gained

For winning in a battle against a Combat Classer two Class Advancements above yours, you have earned the title Duelist. Others will fear your prowess from now on. Increased reputation in certain circles. +10% chance effect of social Skills in appropriate situations. +5% increase in damage against those with higher Class Advancements

I whistle slightly, noting the Title�s effects. Damn, but that�s nice. Of course, I cheated. For one thing, that Psychic was a Level 1 Master Class. For another thing, he was only one Advancement Level higher than mine, though technically the System still reads me as a Basic Class since I�m still in my first tier. It�s why my Monster�s Bane Title is still so effective. I cheat.

After that, I learned another little secret of being the owner of a Settlement. Any battle conducted during a declared war actually nets the owners of those Settlements a small experience gain for the entire battle. Of course, since it�s based off everyone killed, it was more than sufficient to push me up to Level 43, which is where I�m seated right now. It almost makes up for the fact that I currently have an �On-going War� declaration on the settlements, limiting some of the things I can purchase.

All those sudden experience gains mean that I have nine free attributes and two free Class Skill points. Now that I don�t need Portal as desperately, I actually have a chance to consider what to do with these Class Skill points. Though first, I want to look at what I can do to shore up my attributes.

Charisma continues to be my �dump� stat, as per Jason�s terminology. Though considering how I was�reluctantly�drawn into the world of politics, I might want to up it a little. Not that I have the Skills for it, but� yeah. Then we have my mainstays�my combat stats. I still feel as though my ability to perceive what the hell is going on lags behind what I am doing, especially when I am moving at the maximum speeds that my body can handle. It isn�t a huge difference, but it is there. There is something to be said about putting more points into Perception, especially since Agility and Strength go up by themselves anyway. Unfortunately, there�s no guarantee that the next few points will alter it in the way I need it to, rather than widening my hearing range or something less useful.

My Constitution is the bedrock of my survival, though more than once, I�ve noticed a distinct lack of Mana during my fights. Even with the ridiculous amount of regeneration I receive, once we start getting involved in these long, drawn-out battles, I realize exactly how hampered I can be by my Mana. It doesn�t help that so many of my Spells were Mana hogs.

I�ll admit, Luck is tempting as well. Even if I�m not adventuring as much, the bonus in loot drops is always nice, though harder to quantify. And having someone, something, with its finger on the scale seems like a nice idea. The gods know that I�ve seen enough of how fate can take a crap on you.

In the end, I discard Luck, Agility, and Strength. I�d increased Agility and Strength the last time around and Luck had a slight bump a few Levels back. With it being so nebulous, I can�t justify using my points on it all the time. Better to go for something more tangible.

While Willpower upped my on-going Mana regeneration, I am leaning toward increasing Intelligence since it gives me a higher starting point. A single point of Intelligence is worth 10 Mana, which doesn�t seem much but is worth 1/10th of a Blink Step, probably one of my most used Skills.

Constitution still continues to be a no-brainer. After all, I am pretty much the �Tank� of the group, which meant I get shot. A lot. On top of that, while I hate to �waste� points on Charisma, it is clear that I am going to be in social situations a lot more often. Still, I refuse to dedicate a full Level�s worth to it, so Perception is getting at least a point. If Jason were here, he�d probably bitch me out about deviating from my build or being a generalist, but thus far, it�s worked.

Having made my decision, I dump three points into Intelligence and Constitution, two into Charisma, and one in Perception, wiping out my free attributes. The next Level, I might put another point into Luck and Perception then rotate over to Charisma if I see some benefit in my interactions with others.

Figuring out what I intend to do with my Class Skills, on the other hand, is much simpler. I�ve wanted Sanctum and Army of One for a while now, and I can buy them. So I do.

Sanctum

An Erethran Honor Guard�s ultimate trump card in safeguarding their target, Sanctum creates a flexible shield that blocks all incoming attacks, hostile teleportations, and Skills. At this Level of Skill, the user must specify dimensions of the Sanctum upon use of the Skill. The Sanctum cannot be moved while the Skill is activated.

Dimensions: Maximum 10 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 1 minute and three seconds

�Whoa.� I blink, staring at the Mana cost. A thousand Mana. That�s insane. Even with my frankly ridiculous Stats, I can only cast this once. A proper Erethran Honor Guard who�d advanced the normal way could probably cast this twice at best. And the duration isn�t even that great.

�Boy-o, just to clarify, since I�m summarizing the actual System description as always, this Skill blocks everything. Someone could drop an orbital strike backed up by a dragon�s curse on you and nothing would get through,� Ali says.

�Everything?�

�Everything.�

�Damn�� I say, staring at the description. �What�s with the three seconds?�

�Figured on this one, we need a little precision,� Ali says pointedly.

I consider the matter and nod. Yeah, I can see how knowing exactly how long my ability to be invincible lasts would require exactness. Most other times, it matters a lot less.

Army of One

The Honor Guard�s feared penultimate combat ability, Army of One builds upon previous Skills, allowing the user to unleash an awe-inspiring attack to deal with their enemies.

Effect: Army of One allows the projection of (Number of Thousand Blades conjured weapons * 3) Blade Strike attacks up to 200 meters away from user. Each attack deals 2 * Blade Strike Level damage (inclusive of Mana Imbue and Soulbound weapon bonus)

Cost: 750 Mana

I admit, it takes me a bit to figure out the math on this. Basically, it works out to three conjured Thousand Blades multiplied by three�nine�attacks that each deals the equivalent of my Soulbound weapon�s attack. Which, at the present moment, is slightly over a hundred points of damage. That works out to ten attacks�including the original strike from my sword�each dealing about two hundred points of damage, which I can use as an area-of-effect or targeted strike. Put another way, I could almost one-shot myself with just base damage, which doesn�t include external effects like armor or targeting. And this is only the first Level.

�Jesus�� I swear. If I�d had this during our most recent battle� then again, without Portal at Level 3, I wouldn�t have been able to bring my friends. Well, not easily at least, since my range would have been shortened significantly.

Truthfully, the next Level up in Portal is tempting too. It adds approximately 4,000 kilometers to my range, which is significant. I could easily jump from Whitehorse to LA�if I ever traveled that far first.

�These Skills are over-powered,� I mutter.

�Eh� you should see Mike�s penultimate Skills. Hell, you saw his Sphere of Protection. It gave all friendlies within its bubble a 30% bonus to their resistances,� Ali says.

That�s when I realize. �You�re back?�

�We don�t actually need to take as long as you meatbags to talk, boy-o.�

I sigh and shut up, letting myself sink into the couch. �Asshole.�

Sleep. I�m here for sleep.

Chapter 2

I find Aiden standing outside my house early the next day, as I return from a hunting session. A quick check with Ali had indicated that the Kapre had been having issues with an Alpha monster a short jog from town, and after accepting their quest, I proceeded to apply a judicious amount of fire to the problem. And then a lot of Polar Zones. Look, you tell me how else I�m supposed to deal with a sentient moss monster.

Soot covered, with the taste of ash in my mouth, all I wanted was a hot shower and breakfast. Cleanse might clean me, but it never felt right. Which meant that my visitor, manbun and all, is an unpleasant surprise.

�Aiden,� I greet my ex-party member and teacher.

An extremely talented Mage who mixes his esoteric, mangled Eastern philosophy with an analytical mind to advance his magic, Aiden is also a minor coward. After a number of harrowing experiences with us, he no longer journeys out of the city. I disagree�passionately�with his decision, but I understand it. It makes our relationship weird since I desperately try not to judge his actions and fail, then I spiral into mental admonishment of myself over it.

�John. I was hoping I could catch a ride?� Aiden says.

�Ride?�

�To Kelowna. Lana mentioned in a message that you purchased a Mana field enhancement in the city. I was hoping to study it, perhaps improve the core formula, and well, bring it back,� Aiden explains.

�Of course. I need a shower, but we�ll go after that.� I pause after stepping into the door, curious. �How�d you know I was back? And when to see me?�

�Ah�� Aiden shifts uncomfortably.

�Roxley.�

�Yes.�

I leave before I say anything I would regret. Being on Roxley�s good side is smart, especially if you�re living in Whitehorse. The man did nothing wrong. Just because that devious, back-alley scoundrel�

Exhale. Shower. Portal. Breakfast.

Breakfast is in Kelowna, a simple series of Portals away. Aiden and I joined the team�or the portion of it that�s here�which includes Sam, our Level 39 Technomancer; Lara; and Mikito. Ingrid, our Assassin / Thief / general sneaky body is still in Seattle, making nice with the Americans. With the Sect pulling back entirely, the Americans have devolved into a series of skirmishes with one another as they scramble for control in the city.

After I made the necessary introductions, most everyone left me alone to enjoy my breakfast while the girls caught up with Aiden and Sam stayed his taciturn self. Sam rarely gets involved in our private conversations, a factor I enjoy about the older gentleman.

�Did John make arrangements for where you�ll be staying?� Lana asks Aiden after they�ve finished discussing the latest gossip from Whitehorse, the majority of breakfast finally finished.

�No��

At Lana�s look, I protest, �I didn�t even know he was coming till this morning!�

�Don�t worry about it. We�ve got an apartment where we can put you up,� Lana says with a sniff at me.

�We�ve got an apartment?� I say, surprised.

�Not all of us enjoy sleeping on the floor of the nearest abandoned room,� Lana teases, making Mikito smile.

Even Sam snorts a little. Then again, that man set up his little house-cum-workshop almost immediately. As far as I know, Sam has a workshop in every major settlement he�s visited and spent more than a week in.

�It�s convenient,� I mutter. Between my high Constitution and resistances, sleeping on the floor isn�t really that uncomfortable. In fact, with System-aided healing, I don�t even wake up with sore muscles. I�ll admit though, I do enjoy sleeping in a real bed sometimes, but that�s what my house in Whitehorse is for. After all the upgrades we�ve done for the building, even with the massive swarms, it stays in good shape.

�Thank you. If you show me where it is, I�d love to get started on the enchantment immediately,� Aiden says. �I can already feel the difference in my regeneration rate.�

Lana nods, getting up and setting her plates aside, shortly followed by Aiden. Sam takes his leave at the same time, off to continue working on his latest project�an analysis and dismantling of Sabre. With my Personal Assault Vehicle badly damaged during our last encounter, it�s still in the process of fixing itself, which makes it the perfect time for Sam to analyze the changes. While he doesn�t expect to actually replicate the machine, the knowledge he�s gaining is supposedly increasing his skills significantly.

That leaves Mikito, who I gesture to stay when she gets up. The dark-haired lady sits down quietly, hands folded all prim and proper. Hard to imagine that this sophisticated, well-mannered young lady is also one of the deadliest�if not the deadliest�melee duelist I know. Well, excepting a certain frustrating Truinnar.

I break the silence with a prosaic question. �How are you doing?�

�Well.�

�Well, as in good or well as in well, things could be worse?�

�I am doing fine,� Mikito says. �Lana already spoke to me last night. Your concern is touching but unnecessary.�

I grimace at my friend. This� well, this is an area I don�t know how to handle. She�s hurting a bit, but if she says she�s good, what am I supposed to do? Tell her she isn�t? The fact stands that we all have our own pain, our own emotional scars. This world isn�t one where you can spend years in therapy, talking about your feelings till you get better. The next crisis is always just around the corner.

�Okay,� I say, slumping back. After a moment, I meet her gaze and change the topic. �We�ve been missing our morning training sessions.�

�You�ve not been around,� Mikito says.

�Yeah. Whitehorse or Vancouver�s fast becoming my base of operations. Simpler that way. I could use your evaluation on the delvers in Vancouver. And I�ve been meaning to test out their dungeon.�

�Lana says it�s only a gradated dungeon? It gets harder the farther you go?� Mikito says quietly. �Doesn�t seem like you need me for that.�

�Well, no one knows how strong it is anymore. At least, none of the delvers, though they believe the Sect did. Be nice to understand that,� I say, shrugging. �Furthest the teams have gotten is to a Level 40 plus building zone, and they barely made it out at that.�

�When?�

�Pardon?�

�When do you want me there?� Mikito clarifies.

�When can you get up?� I pause. �Down.�

Mikito bites her lip as she thinks things through. �We still need to work out who is going to replace Mel. None of the� the�� She clears her throat. �No one is shining through right now. And I�d like to get their average Level up a little more.�

I stay silent, letting her work things through herself. I know part of the reason why she�s taking so long to leave here is a reluctance to let go, a need to do good by Mel and her apprentice. Who, I have to admit, I can�t even remember the name of. I know I could if I wanted to, but I don�t. Dwelling on the past, the many people lost, is just a road to further pain.

�Two weeks. Maybe three,� Mikito finally says.

�All right.� I nod, accepting her word. It�s not great, but I�m sure I can figure out something to do in the meantime. If nothing else, my goal of basically visiting every village, town, and other settlement in BC will be mostly done by then.

Routine. I�m falling into a routine, even after a few days of peace and quiet. Training, breakfast, Portal to the last town I was at before exploring further to map and add the new locations to my map of explored places. Spend a couple of hours of exploring, then Portal again back to Vancouver and my office on the top floor of the central library and thus the City Center. Depending on how far and which direction I�m going, it sometimes requires multiple Portals, but that doesn�t matter. It�s all the same.

Routine. That is how she finds me. By the time I�m fully cognizant of my actions, I�ve dropped the Portal, cast a Soul Shield, and have my sword at the lady�s neck. She raises an eyebrow, seated as she is at a desk�a new desk, set perpendicular to mine�all coiffed and put together.

�Mr. Lee,� she says. �Or do you prefer your Galactic titles?�

�Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?� I snarl.

Ali floats above me as he updates my minimap with more information. Lots of dots right outside my door. At least a dozen, though they�re all coded grey for non-aggressive. At least for now.

�My name is Katherine Ward. I�m your new personal assistant,� the woman says, meeting my gaze without fear.

Seeing that there�s no direct physical threat at the moment, I pull my sword back while regarding the older lady. Late or mid 50s probably, with smooth skin, minimal natural makeup, a pixie-cut hairstyle that frames piercing brown eyes, and a form-fitting, classic business suit. In other words, the perfect secretary.

Katherine Ward (Level 21 Assistant)

HP: 120/120

MP: 240/240

Conditions: None

�What? The male secretaries go on strike?� I say wryly, walking to sit on my desk as I stare at the woman. She�s no physical threat to me.

�There were few men doing this job even before the incident,� Katherine says. �There are even fewer now. And as you might note, none of them are here.�

�What makes you think I�d hire you?� I say, shaking my head. �You just walked into my office and set up.�

�Well, for one thing, your AI has agreed to the need for me,� Katherine says. �For another, the fact that I could just walk into your office speaks of a lack of organization on your part.�

I grunt. She�s not wrong. Being accosted by random individuals with their own agendas has been driving me slightly insane. That I�ve been using Portal and Blink Step to get away from them is less than dignified. Though effective. But dodging the problem can hold only for so long�

�Kim?�

�WE HAVE CONDUCTED EXTENSIVE INVESTIGATION INTO MS. WARD�S PRIOR EXPERIENCE. HER RESUME IS EXTREMELY IMPRESSIVE, WITH PRIOR WORK EXPERIENCE INCLUDING CEOS OF YOUR WORLD. PRIOR TO YOUR APPEARANCE, MS. WARD WAS ONE OF THE MAIN ORGANIZERS OF THE EASTSIDE ASSOCIATION.�

�The what?�

�EASTSIDE ASSOCIATION�A GROUP OF LIKE-MINDED ARTISANS WHO WORKED AS A CO-OPERATIVE ASSOCIATION TO MANUFACTURE COMPLEX EQUIPMENT FOR RESALE. THE ASSOCIATION USED PROFITS TO PROVIDE ASSISTED HOUSING AND LOAN REPAYMENTS.�

�What bits-for-brains means is that she�s a do-gooder with skills. And diplomacy. After the art restoration incident, we decided you needed some help. Bits and I did some research and reached out to a few candidates. Unfortunately, she�s the only one not majorly compromised. So far,� Ali says.

�And the ambush?� I growl softly to him while I stare at Katherine. She hasn�t flinched, just sitting there waiting.

�Her doing. We were actually going to talk to you about her tonight.�

�What�s with the ambush?� I say out loud.

�After the limited information provided by Kim, I conducted some research myself. It was soon clear��and at that, she looks at the door leading out of my office��that you require help in organizing your day. While you desire to not be �bothered� by such incidents, you do need to deal with them. Or at least arrange for others to deal with them.�

�And you can help with that,� I state flatly.

�Yes.�

�How do I know you don�t have your own agenda? People you�ll sneak into places of power?�

�You are asking how you�d expect to trust me and that is an impossible question. Trust must be built and we currently are strangers. However, be assured that your AI is watching what I do,� Katherine says.

�As am I.�

�If we are finished with the interrogation, I have a recommended schedule for the day. I have set aside an hour for you to meet with petitioners�fifty-five minutes now�after which we have an hour for hiring. And then��

�Why not the other way around?� I interrupt.

�At this time, we do not have a full grasp of your responsibilities. Also, as evidenced, you have certain trust issues. It is better for you to gain some first-hand experience with your petitioners. I would even recommend that you randomly select some to speak with on an on-going basis even after hiring and delegation is complete.�

�I�� I consider what she said and wave her to continue. Fine. Let�s see how this plays out. If there�s a trap here, I�m not experienced enough to see it. Or I am, but I want to see how it plays out. Because she�s right�avoiding running the city isn�t going to work. And the council is too busy fighting about how they�re going to run it to actually do it. But� �Tomorrow morning, I want it free.�

�For�?�

I smile, waving her to continue.

Hours later, after a number of meetings with petitioners and job applicants, I�m finally alone. One thing I�m grateful for is Katherine having the foresight to order in lunch. When lunch is served, Lana saunters in, glancing at Katherine with narrowed eyes. After a few minutes of soft-spoken conversation, the initial wariness slips away from my girlfriend as she drops into a chair next to me.

�How�d you make it here?� I say, frowning. One of the more significant purchases I intend to make is the installation of communication arrays in each settlement. Once set up, they will allow for long-distance transmissions between each settlement. �And how�d you find me?�

�Mmm� your new assistant contacted me,� Lana says around a mouthful of crab. �And I took the boys out for a run.�

I grunt, wanting to chide her for risking her neck, but decide against it. Lana�s a survivor like me and can handle herself. Anyway, with her pets, in many ways, she is a lot tougher than she should be for her Level. Especially since she�s been focusing on Leveling them lately. Especially Roland. Roland is scary.

�Katherine?� I say with a frown. I�m really curious how my new assistant knows enough to contact Lana already so quickly.

�My Class provides me with a number of Skills. A minor Skill in communication called �Contact List� allows me to contact a certain number of individuals within my sphere of influence. Normally I�d need to designate them individually, but with another Skill of mine�Intuit�I am able to access a portion of what would be your contact list. It was a simple matter then to mark Ms. Pearson as a priority individual,� Katherine says. Interestingly enough, she�s also pulled a plate of food to her, though she�s eating with significantly more decorum. I guess the lady has no problem eating in front of her boss. �Now, we were going to speak about your most recent interviews��

I sigh, but considering Lana�s here, I might as well make use of her skills and knowledge. At this point, I get a nice surprise as Ali uses his gifts as my companion to flash up images of each applicant as we speak, allowing Lana to view them and, in some cases, watch certain portions of the interview.

While we don�t have a broad-based idea of the government system that we want in place, we do have the roughest of sketches. Security, legal, education, and city management are the highlights. The last encompasses a lot of things, from city planning for new System-registered buildings to working with petitioners who have their own ideas about what the city needs. We already have a burgeoning homeless problem�System-homeless that is�which needs to be resolved. With pre-System infrastructure slowly falling apart, staying in non-registered homes is fast becoming less and less comfortable for many.

We talk, debate, and weigh the pros and cons of the applicants for our budding bureaucracy. Of the eight who arrived and passed Kim�s background checks, three are removed from the list for being too skeezy. Another two are put on hold till we can find a proper task for them. And the last three are hired to begin the process of actually putting together a working bureaucracy. Thankfully, with the System and the various Skills involved, the numbers we would require should be significantly lower than pre-System. Never mind that we�ve also got a much lower population. Unfortunately, Security continues to be a crucial gap. Everyone who could do the job has either been deported by the Sect or is a delver and thus tied to the vying political groups.

�I approve,� Lana says, stretching in her chair as silence finally finds us. �Roxley mentioned that you�d need an assistant soon unless I wanted to be stuck with the job. It was part of the reason why I came down today actually. But Katherine seems to have things well in hand.�

�Never said I�ve hired her,� I say.

Katherine doesn�t rise to my provocation, continuing to eat calmly, having already informed the successful applicants. I�ll have to give them their brief tomorrow and get them working on hiring others, but at least this should sort out some of the pressing applications. And perhaps get the city back up and running. Not surprisingly, the Sect took their own form of organization with them, and in any case, the Sect had very different objectives than us�for one thing, we have the entire downtown now available for reallocation.

�She seems to be doing a good job,� Lana says.

�Yeah, yeah.� I wave, indicating Lana is correct. Good job or not, I don�t like the feeling of being rushed, even if I can admit that we�re getting a lot done.

�Lana says to stop being so paranoid. You need the help and we�ll keep an eye on her.�

�What�s next on the agenda?� I ask, deciding to change the subject.

�Upgrades,� Lana says.

�Fair enough,� I say.

The moment I do, Kim displays the summarized Settlement Management Screen.

Summarized Settlement Status

Current Population: 129,308

Combined Settlement Treasury: 98.93 Million Credits (+157k per day)

Combined City Mana: 13,309 Mana Points (+298 Mana per day)

Taxes: 10% Sales Tax on Shop

Facilities of Note: City Dungeon (1), Mega Farms (3)

Enchantments of Note: Mana Collection Field

Defenses of Note: Settlement Shields (III * 1 & IV * 2)

While it is a summarized information screen about the major areas of concern for the settlements under my control, it obviously misses a lot. Still, considering I need to know the basics, it is a good starting point. Interestingly enough, while Credits could be transferred between settlements without any issue, transferring Mana is actually much more expensive and ends up being a 5-to-1 ratio. The summarized amount shows the Mana we have available if we use it in Vancouver, which would obviously change depending on where we want to trigger the Mana usage. Considering Mana usage is mainly linked to upgrading or changing higher-tiered buildings, it isn�t as much of an issue. Yet.

One thing I don�t like is the way the defensive notes don�t list the full defenses of each settlement. Then again, as I�ve noticed in Kamloops, anything that isn�t stupidly powerful is pitiful when stacked up against a real assault. Which I guess split defenses into two kinds: those useful against monsters and those that are needed against other sentients.

�Not sure I�m that confident in spending our Credits on upgrades yet,� I say, frowning at the information. �I know Kyle has specific goals�especially with the Adventurers Guild, whose reps I should meet�but I�m sure the Kelowna council have ideas too now that we�re not on a war footing.�

�Might be an idea to throw the question at your Vancouver council too,� Lana adds. �There�s nothing that the city needs desperately, so we can let them argue it out and offer their suggestions.�

�That�s� not a bad idea.� At the worst, it�d give them something else to argue about while I deal with the actual work of running the city. But I�d invited everyone onto the council�or well, acceded to their demands to be included�because they were parties of import in the city and could provide me more information about it. Which meant they might actually be able to provide some real information. �Katherine��

�I�ll message the council members and let them know you�d like their feedback on the priorities for improvements to the city at the next scheduled meeting,� Katherine says.

�Thanks,� I mutter, staring at the screen.

Perhaps the most interesting thing we have is the City Dungeon. We actually have a natural dungeon forming on the grounds of Simon Fraser University, but thankfully, it�s high up in the mountains and currently still growing. It�s still something that needs to be dealt with, but for now, I focus my attention on the City Dungeon.

Over the time I spent reading about the System, I�d learnt a little about City Dungeons. City Dungeons are different from natural dungeons. Natural dungeons form from an overabundance of Mana and the fortitudinous encounter with a monster. Or vice versa�an Alpha monster can, through its continued presence, potentially develop a natural dungeon. Depending on the type and volume of Mana, the natural dungeon can be a single-clear dungeon or a multiple-clear dungeon where the System actually forms the monsters from �memory.� In both cases though, these natural dungeons often have a specific difficulty level that permeates the entire dungeon�mostly due to the monster type(s) that inhabit them.

City Dungeons, on the other hand, are always multiple-clear dungeons. They are formed through the conscious redirection of Mana flow into a specific area, with enchantments, rituals, and Mana engines directed to contain and form the dungeon. City Dungeons are generally structured, with upper levels being the lowest available zone and growing in difficulty as you journey deeper. The most common City Dungeon type is an underground dungeon with each level a new, more difficult zone. The larger the city, the more settlements that feed the dungeon structure, the more powerful and greater the potential difficulty the dungeon will have.

However, our City Dungeon is slightly different. Rather than an entrance to an actual dungeon, it is spread out across what used to be the University of British Columbia. The grounds are generally considered the basic zone meant for beginners. Faculty buildings and residences are where the actual dungeon levels are located, with certain faculties being more dangerous than others.

All that information gives me some context when I review the City Dungeon management screen.

City Dungeon

Location: Vancouver

Dungeon Level: Tier III

Mana Consumption: 218 per day

Known Spawns: Jackalopes, Evolved Canada Geese, Wolpertinger, Spirits, Kmi Leeches, Medusa, Tikbalang, Mngwa

Known Loot: Hide (of Known Spawns), Trivial, Minor, Major Healing & Mana Potions, Tier V Beam & Projectile Weapons, Tier IV & V Bladed Weapons, Tier V Explosives, more�

�Hey, Ali, can you explain the Tier system again? I�m a bit confused here,� I mutter, waving at the Dungeon Level. �We�ve talked about how each Tier V is basically beginner equipment, and Tier IV is up to Level 20 or so. And how the Tiers work on a logarithmic process, so Tier III is roughly what? Up to Level 50? That doesn�t seem to work right, because then Tier II would be the entire Advanced Class.�

�The Tiers are for tech items mostly. Basically, any replicable that can be mass produced,� Ali says. �Tier I and II items are generally high-level military items, things that are reserved for their use when taken in the larger context. Obviously anyone can buy them, but you get a lot of raised eyebrows when you buy a Tier II spaceship.

�In terms of Levels, you could consider the tech tiers to cover most of the Advanced Class with Tier II weaponry being basically powerful enough to seriously injure a high Level Advanced Class combatant. As an example, you�ve probably noticed that Sabre isn�t really up to your standards anymore. Mikito certainly doesn�t bother using her PAV half the time. In general, you�d be looking for things in the next section�the enchanted, unique, and legendary items which all have their own tiers.�

I frown. �So you�re saying most equipment doesn�t really work for Master Level Classes?�

�No, I�m saying that at that level, they�re playing on a different field. They�re getting unique items custom-made for them rather than picking things up from the Shop or Dungeons. Rather than relying on random drops to augment their abilities, they want equipment that will either buff up specific advantages or deal with certain disadvantages. Once you�re a Master Class individual, specialization matters,� Ali says. �Also, they�ll probably have a couple of sets of equipment to swap around, for social and combat situations at the very least.�

�And the dungeon tier?�

�A Tier III dungeon isn�t exactly the same. It�s more an expression of how many Adventurers and the number and types of monsters that the dungeon has than the Level of loot. Tier III means that it�s suitable for Adventurers up to the mid-to-high Advanced Classes, potentially higher if you consider bosses. As a group, that is. It�s rare to see a City Dungeon above Tier III. In fact, if you weren�t on a Dungeon World, it�s unlikely your city would have anything above a Tier IV. But with the excess Mana you guys have��

�It�s easier,� I say.

�It�s almost a given. See your SFU.�

I grunt in acknowledgement and sigh. �And the list of loot?�

�Just what�s known. City Dungeons create loot slightly differently. Obviously monster drops are the same, if less, than what you�d get naturally. But you also get equipment from drops in a city dungeon. Just realize that they can be occasionally� umm� quirky.�

�THE COMMON ADVENTURER TERMINOLOGY IS CURSED.�

�Yeah�� Ali opens his hands slightly. �There are rules involved. The dungeon owner feeds the schematics for such items�or the actual items, though that�s less effective�into the City Dungeon via your management screen. The System can then generate these items. Depending on the complexity of the item, occasional �curses� can happen. It�s unlikely you�ll get cursed gold for example�very simple to reproduce basic minerals. But an enchanted blade? Yeah, it�s complicated.�

I frown, tapping my fingers. �There are ways of knowing what might or might not be cursed?�

�THE DUNGEON MANAGEMENT SCREEN PROVIDES DETAILED BREAKDOWN ON THE LEVEL OF SUBSUEMENT AND THE PROBABILITY OF CURSED ITEM PRODUCTION.�

Lana leans over, tapping on my screen. Obviously it doesn�t do anything until Ali wills it to, but he knows me well enough to let Lana play around with my views. In a second, the dungeon management screen blooms, expanding rapidly. The summarized information disappears as even more information appears. Everything gets more detailed, including data that was hidden before, like the number of visitors, the declared drop rate of various items, which items have been released, and the like. While Lana browses with Ali�s help, I�m doing my own investigation.

�As the dungeon owner, shouldn�t I have a proper map of it?� I grumble.

�CURRENT MAPPED INFORMATION IS PROVIDED BY YOUR DELVERS.�

�I know, but shouldn�t I get more details? I own the damn dungeon.�

�YOU ARE THE ADMINISTRATOR OF THE DUNGEON. THIS DOES NOT PROVIDE ACCESS TO THE DATA YOU ARE SEARCHING FOR BY DEFAULT. WE MAY PURCHASE SAID INFORMATION IN THE STORE.�

I groan. Freaking scam of a System.

�Boy-o, you need to realize that growing a dungeon is more akin to growing a forest than building a house. You throw down some seeds, water the plants with Mana, maybe prune or cut down a tree or two. But you don�t get much say in how the forest really grows.�

�That�s� insane,� I mutter. �It�s a freaking dungeon and I don�t get any real information on it?�

�Nope. And you shouldn�t be calling others insane. Your people used to capture predatory animals and make them pets,� Ali says, staring at the quiet, striped orange cat lounging in the corner.

�Yeah, but those people are crazy.�

�As are city owners,� Ali says. �Also, you�re forgetting the lure of greed. Mining a City Dungeon is a very, very good way of getting low-tier goods. It�s a stable source of income and attracts a ton of beginner adventurers since it�s a lot safer. In non-Dungeon Worlds, it also helps manage Mana buildup and keeps the zones around a city much lower. Here, it does the same. With, you know, less effect.�

I sigh, rubbing my head. Lana finally stops swinging the notification screens about and looks at me with a pensive expression.

�What?�

�Managing the dungeon�s similar to managing a business, just weird. There�s a ton of things in here, most of which could bear watching. Where the Mana is going, how much Mana should be going in, what rate the dungeon is growing at�� Lana shakes her head. �And we�ve not even gotten to that entire loot generation section. You need to find someone to manage this.�

�Great. I�ll add it to the task list,� I say sarcastically.

After a moment, I look over and see Katherine finish moving her fingers before offering me a knowing nod. Great. I guess I really do have a task list now. Next I�ll be getting a bell around my neck.

After that, Lana and I get back to talk about upgrades. She�s got her own ideas, from her time in Whitehorse as well as Kamloops, and isn�t shy about pushing for them. I can�t blame her, and unlike the councillors, she�s got an in to get her own views heard. After all, I�m not sleeping with any of the others.

Yay nepotism.

Chapter 3

Wandering the stacks of the library, I find myself running my finger along the spines of abandoned books later that evening. I�m waiting for Lana, who has gone for a �dinner� with Katherine, one that I was pointedly not invited to. So I�m wandering my domain, staring at tomes of knowledge that have been discarded, much like our prior civilization.

�You�re a morose bastard,� Ali says, floating beside me.

�Yup,� I agree absently before looking around.

Where am I? Biology? Rows and rows of books about the biological world that now matters not a whit. After all, the System has replaced and altered our bodies so significantly that I doubt even half of what is in these books matters now. Furthermore, for the low, low price of a few hundred Credits, all this painstaking knowledge could be bought and downloaded directly into our brains.

�What�s got you down now?�

�Just the futility of life,� I murmur, shaking my head. All the time, all the expertise denoted in these books, gone. A wave of the System, a snarling face, and poof. All gone.

�Uh huh,� Ali says, leaning back in mid-air as he floats beside me.

�Nothing futile about these books,� an older man says as he walks around the corner. Scraggly hair down to his collar, he�s dressed in a dress shirt and a pair of jeans, a pile of books waiting to be reshelved in his hands.

�Eric,� I greet the Librarian.

One of the first people to accost me once things had settled, he literally demanded to be allowed the run of the library again. As a former employee�admittedly from the Marpole branch�he was intent on collecting and returning all the books he could find. I�m not entirely sure if it�s a matter of Leveling or a complex, but rather than argue, I agreed to his request with some stipulations. No approaching my City Core for one.

�What is contained within might not be useful now, but knowledge, any knowledge, is precious. And while your System might provide fast and easy gains in knowledge, have you not noticed that the learning process itself has certain advantages?� Eric says as he shelves a book.

�Uhh��

�Your training with Mikito?� Ali points out helpfully.

�Right�� The difference between knowing something and understanding it.

�What is contained here might be of use in the future as well. In fact, there are certain skills that may be gained and Titles for those who choose to proceed the hard way,� Eric says, looking at me. �It is why I strongly recommend that we re-open the library. And of course, begin the process of updating our inventory.�

I raise my hand, cutting off any further pitch. Eric�s lips thin, but he inclines his head in acknowledgement before walking away to continue his task. For a moment, I stare at his retreating back.

�He�s creepy.�

�Really? He doesn�t seem any stranger than most humans to me.�

Sometimes, I�m not entirely sure whether Ali is kidding or not when he says things like that. With a sigh, I continue to walk, shifting my thoughts to something more productive.

Maybe a half hour later, Lana finds me, Roland accompanying her while Howard and Shadow chase one another outside.

�John,� Lana greets me after kissing me, leaning backward to stare into my eyes. �What are you thinking about?�

�Government. Or a corporation. I�ve been thinking about how I�m the sole owner of these settlements and it�s not a good idea,� I say.

�And you don�t intend to relinquish control,� Lana states, knowing my reasons for keeping control.

�Exactly. So I need an organization of sorts that both keeps me in control when necessary but also allows people like Ken or the city council to run things and that is flexible enough to keep expanding,� I say. �And, of course, has a decent backup to ensure we don�t actually lose the city if I die.�

A flicker of something crosses Lana�s face. �Where were you thinking?�

�Closest thing I can think of is a constitutional monarchy of sorts. But that brings its own problems,� I say with a grimace.

�Lines of succession, intrigue, and backstabbing?�

�Exactly.�

Lana turns to the floating Spirit. �Ali, aren�t there more Galactic options?�

�Tons. But I�m not exactly an expert on this. The Erethrans use a stratocracy, with citizenship varying based on Levels and time served with the armed forces. Their Emperor is actually just the most powerful Erethran citizen who is then guarded by the Honor Guard. He and his family, along with their advisors, make up both the Erethrans� reserves and their ruling body. Of course, the fact that the Emperor is able to buy Skills and equipment for his children and put them out for safe training tilts things in his favor, but it�s still technically a stratocracy.

�The Truinnar and the Xylarghs are both monarchies. The Truinnar use what you�d call a pure monarchy, with their Emperor ruling over all and having direct oaths of servitude from his subjects. He even has the Class. The Xylarghs are closer to a constitutional monarchy, with the monarchy and the Dragon Knights making up one bloc of power and the Artisans another. Democracy is a lot less common. The closest examples I can think of that you�d be familiar with are the Kapre. But they�re weird�while they don�t exactly have a hive mind, they�ve got an empathic mind backed by racial Skills in empathy.�

I grunt, recalling our conversations about the tree-like creatures that make up the Kapre. Talking and dealing with them always felt strange due to the long pauses and the feeling that you�re talking to more than one at a time. Which, in a way, you are.

�Well, we�re not interested in a democracy,� Lana says, eyes dancing with humor. �I doubt John wants to hear the �will of the people.��

�People are stupid,� I grumble then amend my note. �But they should have a voice. Just not direct to me.�

�Well, if you�re keeping final say, you should probably be a monarchy of some sort,� Ali says.

�Nope. Not going to get called King John,� I say sternly. I can see Lana�s eyes dancing with humor as I state that. �Anyway, that�d make you the fool.�

�Yeah well, I�d pity the fool who called me one,� Ali says. �We could potentially call it a dictatorship of some form��

I grunt in annoyance, drawing another shrug from Ali.

�Perhaps a corporation?� Lana says.

�Like a Guild?�

�Can�t be a Guild, remember? No land ownership.� Ali corrects me.

�I never did understand that. What�s the difference between a Sect and a Guild? And how do corporations fit in there?� I growl.

�Right�� Ali says. �Well, corporations can be Guilds and vice versa. A Guild is basically a co-operative of Adventurers. The main difference between a Guild or a Sect is that a Guild can�t hold land. Because they can�t hold land�specifically, they can�t hold settlements�they are allowed to have their Guild branches in numerous cities. Which gives them a significant amount of power.

�Sects, on the other hand, can�t�or well, generally don�t�hold land in cities they don�t control. If they do, that land is considered part of their territory. It�s why other groups won�t let them own land in their cities.�

�Part of their territory?� I say with a frown.

�Think of it like an embassy.� At my puzzled frown, Lana shakes her head. �Embassies are considered the land of their countries. So a Canadian embassy in Saudi Arabia is part of Canada and people within the embassy aren�t required to follow Saudi law.�

�Ah�� I exclaim, realizing what she means. I recall that movie. The one with Ben Affleck. It had something to do with that entire rule of law. I have to admit, I fell asleep while watching it.

�Sects also don�t let their people join Guilds, and their people have to renounce their ties with other kingdoms. Guilds, on the other hand, don�t care�so long as you serve the guild and do their work, you�re welcome to have diverging interests.�

�So how do corporations work in all this?� I ask, figuring I�ve got a rough handle between Sects and Guilds.

�Corporations can�t be Sects, because Sects require oaths of loyalty. They�re more loosely formed, with stakeholders who own and sometimes run the organization and employees. They can own land too, but unlike Sects, whatever they purchase outside of settlements doesn�t come under their own laws. Like Guilds, they often have widespread interests, but unlike Guilds, they can own land. But� there�s a lot of unhappiness about them in the Galactic core. In fact, many corporations are barred from some of the largest empires and blocked entirely from owning land or operations in certain kingdoms.�

�So my options are a soulless corporation or being called King for the rest of my life,� I mutter. �Not acceptable.�

�I�m sure we can figure out something better. Now that we�ve got an idea what you�re looking for,� Lana says when she realizes I�m not really joking.

�Let�s.� I stare at Ali, who sighs and nods. Grateful to have given the Spirit a task he can deal with, I send him off while I turn to Lana. The redhead raises an eyebrow, and I shake my head. �No more work.�

She smiles and takes my hand, guiding me to walk along the stacks once again. For a few hours at least, I�m going to take a break. Especially considering what I�ve got on the agenda tomorrow morning.

Morning. Early morning. Even in the summer, the sun has barely risen as we stand at the foot of the mountain, staring at the rolling mist ahead of us. Wisps of it exit the barrier, its presence significantly denser a few feet ahead. It�s Lana, her pets, and me. Ingrid isn�t back from the US, Mikito is still in Kamloops, and this isn�t Sam�s scene. Mostly.

�Should we have invited Sam?� I mutter, staring at the foreboding mist. If mist can look treacherous and dangerous, this mist would definitely qualify.

�You barely invited me,� Lana says grumpily, a travel mug of coffee in her hands.

�Didn�t want to share the experience,� I say teasingly before sobering. �Truthfully, didn�t know you�d be here. And I figured I should know what the dungeon is like. Maybe even clear it before the delvers actually get it done.�

�What is it anyway?� Lana says, tilting her head as she stares inside.

�Yurks,� Ali says, grimacing. �Semi-sentient, reptilian-frog hybrid creatures in your parlance. They�re mildly humanoid.�

Lana frowns at the mist, which doesn�t seem to be intent on leaving. �Is the mist part of the dungeon?�

�Yes.�

Outside of the dungeon bounds, my minimap cuts out completely, giving me no further information. Frustrating. I turn my head, staring at the two roads that lead farther up the mountain and toward the university that stretches out ahead and to the right of us. Even without the mist, I wouldn�t expect to see much beyond the untamed forests and roads, but I could always hope.

�Well, what are we waiting for?� Lana says before downing the last of her coffee and making the mug disappear.

Without an audible cue, the puppies spread out ahead of us, Roland joining the group while Anna stays by our side as we walk ahead.

The moment we enter the mists, we get a notification.

Dungeon Located!

You have entered a Level 50+ Dungeon.

Warning! The current dungeon has not been fully cleared. Successful completion of the dungeon by a System-registered individual will generate increased rewards.

As expected. It�s one of the reasons why it�s yet to be cleared by the delvers. None of the teams are at the point where they can comfortably deal with the problem. This might be a touch much for just the two of us as well�even if I over-Level it. Sort of. Never having had a Basic Class always makes these estimations tricky.

Once again, I note that the double experience reward, as well as the System limitation notification, is gone. Ever since the System fully integrated, we no longer get those, since the System can at least provide the basics of a warning about any dungeons we enter. Annoying, but at least the first clear bonus is still around.

Even if we can�t clear it today, I should be able to open a Portal and pop out. Maybe we can pull Mikito in the next time and deal with it then. But I have to admit, I�m kind of looking forward to the challenge today.

�Don�t forget, you have meetings this afternoon. So no going crazy in there,� Lana warns as we walk up the road.

The mist wraps around us, reducing visibility and muffling her voice. In answer, I grunt, my sword held idly. No point using a rifle if I can�t see what I�m shooting. Indicators on the helmet HUD show that the external atmosphere isn�t poisoned, so the mist itself is benign.

Ting

What the heck? I tilt my head to the side, catching a glimpse of something white falling as it deflects off my Soul Shield. Lana beats me to it, bending and picking up the needle-thin, plastic-looking item with purple liquid dripping from its tip.

As she begins to speak, she slaps a hand to her arm, growling in pain. �Poison!�

I flick my hand quickly, placing Soul Shield on Lana. For good measure, I add Two is One. Lana�s rubbing her hand now, eyes slightly unfocused.

�How bad?� I ask.

�Not too bad. It�s reducing my Mana regeneration a bit for the next few hours.�

Even as she speaks, another plink signifies another attack failing to penetrate. The attacks themselves are so weak they barely even move the health gauge of the Soul Shield. I debate throwing the rest of my buffs on us but decide against it. Better to keep my Mana for now.

�Attacks like these are stackable,� Ali says. Perhaps because he feels like taunting them, he�s fully visible, their shots passing through his body.

�Still nothing on the minimap?� I debate throwing a Blade Strike along the line of where the attacks originate. I hold back for the moment since striking out randomly isn�t likely to do anything but damage fauna. Though if we don�t get results soon, I might just use an area effect attack and see if I get lucky.

�The boys are on it,� Lana says softly, her shotgun held casually now.

A moment later, I see a notification pop up that I�ve gained a small smattering of experience. �Who was that?�

�Roland. And that�s Shadow.� As she speaks, another notification flashes, the experience gain the only information clue that anything is happening. �Howard�s having a little harder time.� Lana shakes her head. �Might call him back actually. He doesn�t have the other two�s advantages. In fact��

A few minutes later, Howard trots out of the undergrowth, a limp corpse held in his mouth. The creature he deposits at our feet is, as advertised, a green, reptilian-frog hybrid on two floppy feet wearing a leather sash from which a series of needles hang. In addition, a small bottle swings on a string from the belt, unstoppered and slowly dripping out its poisonous contents.

�Good boy.� Lana rubs the puppy�s giant head as the husky shifts to stand guard over us. A low growl is drawn from it a second later when a fast-moving projectile strikes its paw. �John�?�

�On it.� I cast the Soul Shield over the puppy and make a mental note to refresh the protection when it runs out. That�s a significant negative I�ve noticed�in higher Mana zones like a dungeon, the Skill drains away faster. Once that�s cast, I eye the body.

Yurk Scout (Level 20)

HP: 0/224

MP: 0/130

Condition: Dead

�Scouts?� I frown. The attack didn�t seem to do much damage to either Howard or Lana. Harassing and annoying, but not dangerous.

�Probably meant to wear you down,� Ali says. �The scouts will poison you, reduce your regeneration now. When you�re in the thick of it, you�ll find the Mana regeneration debuff a crucial issue.�

�Ah�� I nod. One of those dungeons.

We keep walking, letting Lana�s pets deal with the Scouts. Since they can�t really hurt us through the Soul Shield, it�s good experience for her. That being said, I keep an eye out. This is the first trip through.

�Think they�re edible?� Lana says, eyeing a fleeing Yurk Warrior and the burnt corpses strewn around us.

Once we actually enter the campus grounds, we are met by a group of Yurk Warriors. A large group of them, each Level 30 plus. Unfortunately for them, they decide to group up. The moment my Fireball impacts, Lana throws on her Aura of the Red Queen, forcing them to run.

�Maybe. Probably tastes like fishy chicken,� I say.

Lana tilts her head toward me.

�I�m Chinese. My dad introduced me to some different culinary experiences,� I say. �Frog legs are okay. Taste like slightly slimy chicken.�

�Oh. Wow�� Lana says, staring at the corpses around us.

It�s weird eating sentients. Or semi-sentients. Not something we�ve done much of even with the System. On the other hand, they do smell kind of nice.

�Go ahead. I won�t tell,� I say.

She flashes me a look but still steps forward. A few seconds later, she�s wiping her fingers on her one-piece. �You�re right.�

A quick wave of my hand pulls the bodies into my Altered Space, dumping them away for later sale. A part of me wonders how casually eating the meat of our fallen enemies is even a thing. How callous could we have gotten? Considering how sharp their teeth are, I�m pretty sure that�s what they were going to do to us though.

�You never told me how you learnt to cook.�

�Oh? Not much of a story to tell,� I say, sweeping my gaze around the buildings again.

Taking the right roadway, we swing into what used to be the International College building, a stand-alone faculty that is a short distance from the main campus. The red brick building with grey concrete appears and disappears as the mist obscures our vision. I nod toward the entrance, and we saunter over and stop at the opaque entrance.

�Grenades?� I ask.

�Just one.�

A minute of hard work later, we�re walking down the next hallway, slightly charred and with refreshed Soul Shields.

�You know I grew up without my mom, right? Well, my dad wasn�t much for cooking. So I had to learn to do it myself. After I grew tired of instant noodles�and a few complaints from my dad�I started watching cooking shows.�

�Cooking shows?�

�Ramsay, Iron Chef, Ray, some road shows too,� I say, shrugging. �Picked up a few tips here and there while watching and read a few books. It was just one of those things I had to learn, and later on, I found it comforting. Something I could control.�

Before Lana can continue the conversation, I hold up my hand. My map is showing that each of the classrooms ahead of us is filled, and this time, it looks as though we�ll have to get serious. Howard hunkers down while Anna burns more brightly. Roland slides into place next to the first door, waiting quietly in gathered shadows.

�Ali?� I frown, staring at the semi-circular series of dots ahead of us. It looks almost like a trap�

�Can�t go through,� Ali says, floating up to tap the walls. �They�re Mana-imbued to prevent me from floating in. I�d have to go through an open door.�

�Grenades?� Lana says, turning her hand over to show me a concussion grenade. Less damage, more shock and distraction. Not a bad choice.

�On three,� I say, moving to the other side of the door.

We stack up on the door in an amateur approximation of good tactics. When I push the door open, Lana tosses the grenade inside and I shut the door again, getting only the barest glimpse of the Yurks all curled up behind solid barriers. An arrow bounces off my shield even as I close the door. The light rumble from the explosion comes a second later.

Flinging the door open, I Blink Step slightly behind one of the barriers, appearing a few feet in the air even as Roland bounces in, unleashing a loud roar as he jumps over the blockade on the opposite side of the room. Anna and Howard rush in a few seconds later while Lana and Shadow keep an eye on the hallway. Even as I land and spin, my swords in both hands, I only catch one across its chest as the Yurks scramble away.

Yurk Elite Warriors (Level 40)

HP: 378/413

MP: 188/201

Conditions: Mild Stun

Mildly stunned or not, the damn Yurk is still moving. Nine Yurks, scattered around the room, are taking us on. None of my AOEs will work�the classroom too small for their attacks. My only other spell is Mana Dart which, while great for Mana conservation, isn�t powerful enough to do real damage. That pretty much leaves my Skills and Freezing Blade.

Considering their health, I ignore using my spell for now and just get on with the killing. They might be fast and skilled, but they�re smaller than me and in a retreat. I catch up with one of them fast. Behind me, I feel the impact of blades against the Soul Shield as his friends rally. Dismissing a sword, I block the Yurk�s cut and grab my target by the neck to spin and throw the smaller Yurk at his friends. Legs and hands flopping in the air, the Yurk bowls over his friends, tangling the group up long enough for me to send in a pair of Blade Strikes. A second later, I�m rushing over to the next in line, intent on finishing up my group.

Lana steps into the room while I deal with the trio on my side, sending a widespread blast of pellets to finish them off before she twists to attack Roland�s and Howard�s targets. Anna has one of the Yurks on the ground, her jaw closed around its shoulder as her flames lick across its body while it thrashes around in pain. Howard�s worrying and backing off another two.

I block a Cleave from one of the Yurks, pushed back a little by the sudden attack. Even as the Yurk tries to entangle my sword, its friend creeps around its side, ready to plunge a blade into me. Stepping sideways at the same time as I dismiss my blade, I use the momentum to complete a spinning back kick, sending the flanking frog into a nearby wall. As I land and recover, I slap the initial attacker�s glowing blade aside with my hand, my Soul Shield glowing as the sabre leaves a light line of red along my arm. Recalling my sword, I plunge it into the Yurk�s body before bull-rushing the Yurk attempting to pull itself out of the wall.

With the added firepower from the redhead, the battle comes to a close soon enough. Battle over, I dismiss the blade and grimace as the blood on it, no longer having a place to grip, falls, splattering over my hand. Thankfully the Soul Shield actually protects me, allowing me to shake my hand clear of the gunk. While I�m doing so, Ali is looting and storing the corpses. After a second, I refresh the Soul Shields on myself and Lana, surprised by how low the shields has gotten. Even now, I can see the injuries on the pets slowly healing, the minor scrapes and cuts sewing back together as the puppies lick their wounds.

�Nine Level 40s. Not bad, but nothing surprising,� I say.

�Eleven,� Ali says, pointing at the additions.

�Eleven�?� I frown, staring.

He�s right. There were nine on the minimap, but in the heat of the battle, I hadn�t realized there were two adds. I stare at the additions, noting the slightly different equipment loadout and information screen.

Yurk Rogues (Level 36)

HP: 0/274

MP: 0/347

Condition: Dead

�Bastard snuck up on me,� Lana says, kicking one body.

�You know, if they�re frogs, they lay eggs in groups. So, not sure if they actually have a family structure like ours,� I say, shrugging. �Never mind the fact that they�re aliens.�

�It�s just a saying,� Lana says.

I cock my head to the side, curious to see if Ali has any information.

�Don�t look at me. I�m not interested in learning about the mating habits of Yurks. Or, you know, any of you meaties.�

�Meaties?�

�Trying out a new descriptor.�

�Don�t.�

Ali sniffs, floating into the hallway as we gather at the door to the next classroom. We stack up again, ready to repeat the process. Interesting that they don�t come out. I debate if it�s a matter of tactics, stupidity, or just the dungeon and then give up. Not my problem if they want to make this easy.

�Well, that was anticlimatic,� I mutter to Lana an hour later.

We swept through the building without a problem, the small battles not an issue for the pair of us. Frankly, by myself, I out-Leveled our attackers. With Lana�s pets harrying and dealing with the others, it was a simple matter to clear each room.

�Getting cocky, aren�t you?� Lana says.

�Actually, I�m thinking there should be more to this,� I say, waving us forward and up the hill once again. We�ll reach the main campus soon, which is where the roads and dungeon square should show up.

�We�re nearly out of time, boy-o,� Ali reminds me.

�I know. I just want to see the square. We can pop right in there next time,� I say as we continue to walk forward.

Occasionally, the plink of an attack reminds me that the damn scouts are still out there. That, and the strangled yelps or a sudden crunch as Roland and Shadow get to work on our flanks.

�I should bring the boys up here more often,� Lana says with a slight smile. �They seem to be having fun.�

�I can tell.� Rather than spend more time exploring the outer layer of buildings, I swing us toward to the main parking lot and the campus�s town square.

We�re just passing another grey, boring building on our left, the parking lot on our right, when we hear a slow, thudding drum beat.

�Boy-o�� Ali says, frowning.

In front of us, slowly appearing on the map and disappearing as the mists continue to envelop us, is a large cluster of monsters. There�s nearly a hundred or so, many in the Level 30s or higher.

�I think they were delaying us,� Lana says softly, eyes wide as she stares at the shared minimap.

Glimpsed through the mists, the front ranks are slowly marching forward, shields held in front of them.

�Yeah�� I stare at my Mana pool and sigh, popping a bottle of Mana restoration and swigging it down. Between that and my regeneration, I�m back up to two-thirds full, which should do. �I want to try something, then we can go.�

Lana nods, face grim as she engages her aura once more. It bursts forth, making the front group stagger before they seem revitalized by the continued drumming.

I step forward, crouching and whisper the command. �Army of One.�

Around me, six identical copies of my sword pop into existence, tripling the total number that I get from Thousand Blades. I grunt, swinging my hand down, and the blades shoot forward rather than projecting a strike like Blade Strike. The glowing red-and-blue blades strike the front ranks, boring through the monsters and continuing onward, shattering their careful formation.

�Nice,� Lana says as she unloads her shotgun into the group.

Anna helps, flames stretching from her body to run across the group like long tendrils. But for all that, for how impressive it looks, the Yurks stagger back up to their feet and reform their lines.

I sigh. I guess I know where I�m putting more Class Skill points next time. I need more blades and more damage. While the damage will get better as I grow in strength and my blade does as well, the number of blades is a matter of another Skill.

Once they�ve reset the line, harried by Anna�s and Lana�s attacks, the group continues their slow and steady march. A low growl from Howard behind us alerts us to the troops that have flanked us, pinning us in place and forcing both Shadow and Roland out of hiding.

�John�� Lana�s voice grows concerned as the group gets within thirty meters.

A shift in their positioning shows that they�re ready to charge. My wordless answer is to pop open the Portal, and the puppies and Roland dart in without a word. Lana and Anna follow even as arrows and spears fly, raining down around us. I follow her through the Portal.

�Well, that was disappointing,� I say, grabbing one of the spears flying through the fast-closing Portal before it pins Anna.

�Disappointing?� Lana says.

�My Skill,� I say, shaking my head. �It�s really reliant on my other Skills and I just don�t have the points for it all. I�m going to need to put more points into it for it to get useful.�

A cough drags our attention back to Katherine, who has stood up from behind my desk to extract a few arrows and spears that have embedded themselves on it and around the walls. �Perhaps another location would be better for you to teleport to whilst in combat?�

�Sorry!� I say, watching as the prim and proper woman stacks the weapons aside.

�You know she�s going to make you pay for that, right?� Lana whispers to me.

�Nah, she wouldn�t do that,� I say, confident in Katherine�s professionalism. I purposely ignore Lana�s and Ali�s looks, content to bask in my naivet�. Though if you know you�re fooling yourself, is it really naivet�? �So what�s on the agenda?�

Lana waves goodbye, off to deal with her own chores. Behind her desk, Katherine pulls up her status screens and rattles off the agenda for the day. More meetings of course. It�s always more meetings.

�The Adventurer Guilds are here,� Katherine announces with slight disapproval as I lounge in my chair.

Since there�s no paperwork, I�ve pulled my chair out from behind the desk. I�m in a nice, comfortable lounge chair taken from below, rather than the uncomfortable office chairs that used to fill this corner office. Katherine, for reasons of her own, is behind a desk.

�Send them in.�

A few minutes later, a tall humanoid elf walks in, a smile on his lips. Tall, blond, and pretty, he could have walked off the set of a Lord of the Rings movie if it weren�t for the futuristic sci-fi jumpsuit and beam rifle slung over his shoulder. I stand, offering a hand and shaking his before I flop back down in my chair, gesturing for him to choose his poison. After glancing at the options�office chairs, another lounger, and the couch�he takes an office chair and rolls it over to me. I note how he dismisses Katherine�s presence almost immediately, his focus on me.

Mental Effect Resisted

�I�m John Lee.�

�Kryl a Sharra. I�m the Guild liaison of the Burning Leaves, a Tier II Guilds,� Kryl says.

I�m a bit impressed by the fact that he�s from a Tier II Guild�those represent deep pockets, according to Ali, with Guild Halls in over five hundred settled worlds and a deep roster of dedicated Adventurers. Among other things, Guilds have to meet a certain number of Galactic Council quests and hit certain taxation numbers to qualify for each level. All things considered, there�s just over a hundred Tier II Guilds in the entire Galactic System.

Kryl a Sharra (Level 18 Fell Ranger)

HP: 740/740

MP: 485/520

Conditions: Aura of Command

I don�t mention the Aura or the fact that he�s still using it. A glance at Katherine shows that her conditions still list as none, a rather surprising matter. Then again, I don�t know what kind of Skills she has, but being an Assistant who can be easily swayed probably wouldn�t be great. Something worth noting at least.

�What can I do for you, Kryl?�

�The Movana designate their Nobles by adding an a in between their names. So Kryl should, if you were feeling polite, be called a Sharra.�

A flash of annoyance shows on Kryl�s face before he stamps it out. �We would like to know when our application for a Guild Hall in your settlements would be approved.�

�You�ve got applications for places outside of Kamloops?� I say with a frown.

�Yes. They were added a few days ago,� Kryl says smoothly.

�Huh.� I consider what else to say then make the decision. �Get out.�

�What?� Kryl exclaims, eyes widening.

�Get. Out. You�re not welcome in this office anymore. If your Guild wants to continue talking, they can send someone else.�

Kryl narrows his eyes in thought then nods before walking out in silence. Rude and manipulative as he might be, at least he�s smart enough to realize what he did wrong. Using his aura to attempt to manipulate the negotiation and force us to take his Guild is idiotic. Sure, it might work with some, but that�s no way to build a lasting relationship. When he walks out, Katherine lets out a little snort that I assume to be one of approval. Ass.

�Next.�

�Brommax�s Raiders are a Tier III Guild. We�ll be able to not only provide a wider market for your goods through our Guild Shops, but we also have a deep bench of Adventurers to fulfill any of your requests and we are willing�and able�to staff all three of your settlements,� the big yellow Yerrick says. I forget his name, having seen so many for now. I could look, but that�s what Katherine�s for.

�Raiders?�

�It�s a translation imprecision.�

�He�s telling the truth. An English translation thing. Maybe those US Rangers might be a better translation.�

�I�m really only interested in discussing one town at a time,� I say. �Kelowna in particular.�

�Of course. We�re willing to negotiate on the monthly Credit fee, as well as any additional settlement security requirements you might have.�

�Keep talking,� I say, leaning forward. Finally. The Yerrick is the third in line, and the first I�m actually interested in.

�I represent the Platinum Pixies, a Tier IV Guild. Our Guild might not be the biggest, but we punch above our weight class,� the pixie says, hovering in front of me with a grin.

�You guys allow non-pixies in?�

An uncomfortable silence later, I watch her tiny form flit out.

�Crystal Clans isn�t your typical Guild. We�re a Tier III Guild, but we�re more focused on Artisan work. Our people are looking for stable and plentiful sources of materials, which is why a Guild Hall in a Dungeon World is perfect for us,� the dwarf states, offering me a grin and launching into his spiel the moment he sits down.

�Sounds like a lot of great things for you��

�What? A stable market that buys at a higher price than the Shop doesn�t sound good to you? How about Advanced and Master Artisans who can guide some of your people? We can work in class schedules.�

�That�s nice, but we�re a bit worried about our security�� I say leadingly.

�We aren�t all Artisans. A significant minority are fighters�we do need guards for some of our rarer materials. And a number of Adventurers see the advantage of having access to Master Level Artisans,� Wrox says, beard waggling. �We�ll have a number of those people in your towns.�

�And a security agreement?�

�Can be negotiated.�

�Good. Now, about the rent��

�No.�

�But with the number of fallen in the transition, we will be able to raise��

�No.�

�You don�t understand��

�Get out. Before I throw you out.�

�Simpletons.�

I watch the multi-legged heptadon walk out of the room, almost flouncing out. A hand held out to Katherine puts guests on hold while I keep my breathing deep and steady to get my temper back in control. Asshole necromancers.

�Labashi.� I blink, standing and shaking the Hakarta�s hand.

He�s still as big, green-grey, and tusky as ever. However, I�m surprised to see him here in Vancouver. Last I knew, he was up in Whitehorse, finishing his initial contract with the Duchess.

�Redeemer.� He inclines his head and sits down. A hand comes up, offering me a small, red-wrapped piece of heaven. �Chocolate?�

�Don�t mind if I do,� I say, grabbing the chocolate and popping the piece in my mouth. I blink when the chocolate melts in my mouth on contact, the liquid delight a surprise. Even as I sit, quietly enjoying the expensive treat, Labashi offers a piece to Katherine while introducing himself. �Good chocolate.�

�Yes,� Labashi says, leaning forward. �A great export.�

My mind shifts for a second to Adventurers fighting through hordes of monsters, risking life and limb, only to loot their corpses and exclaim in delight at finding a Toblerone. I chuckle, making Labashi stare at me with concern.

I wave away his questioning look, continuing. �What are you doing here, Major?�

�Visiting an ally. And pitching my Corp as an option.�

�You can do that?�

�It is not the most common use of that building slot, but is possible,� Labashi says.

�MERCENARY CORPS ARE UNDER THE SAME CLASSIFICATION AS ADVENTURERS GUILDS. AS SUCH, A SINGLE COMPANY MAY BE ADDED TO ANY SINGLE TOWN.�

�What else is covered under that classification?� I send the thought to Kim and Ali, grumpy about missing another thing. Between a lack of interest on my part and the sheer volume of information, I�m missing a lot about running a settlement.

�Assassin�s Guilds and Thief Circles fall under the same categories. Also Spy centers, but you need to build up the requirements internally.�

I sit in silence for a moment, listening to my companions while Labashi enjoys his tea. When my eyes refocus, Labashi shifts his attention back to me fully.

�Why a merc group?�

�We prefer mercenary corp,� Labashi says easily. �Most Adventuring Guilds will promise protection, but they�re not good at it. That�s what we do. We can provide a higher number of individuals with better Classes and training. While we might not provide the same level of business contacts or a Guild Shop, we can provide training. For our needs, we�ll also need a much larger base of operations, which will aid you in developing to the next level of Small City. And lastly, we�re willing to pay a much higher base rental than any Guild.�

He�s not wrong. One of the requirements, over and above the basic population requirements, of a Small City is a 98% land ownership requirement. Except it isn�t just any land ownership; it designated the amount of physical land too, so you couldn�t just shrink your settlement down to beat the System.

Still, I frown, drumming my fingers on my legs. �Why do you need a location?�

�Because we have none yet. A Headquarters building will allow us to set up long-range teleportation arrays and cheaper housing for our people. We expect to have significant work on your world. Having a permanent base will keep our overall cost down and allow for further training opportunities. That you have a City Dungeon is already a significant bonus,� Labashi says.

I�m a bit surprised he�s laying all his cards out like that, which makes me slightly suspicious about what he�s hiding.

�Why not further north with the Duchess and her people?� I ask, frowning. After all, Roxley probably wouldn�t mind their presence. And while the Truinnar might be willing to help us out, I know he wouldn�t do it by harming his interest�or his mistress�s.

�All her current allocations are earmarked for others. Our Contract includes a headquarters, but only at a later date. We prefer to have one sooner,� Labashi says.

Right. So that means he�d be willing to pay more, but not outrageously. Thus, while the deal might be good, it won�t be great.

�All right, let�s talk details. Call me tentatively interested,� I say, leaning forward. Best to hear what he has to say. Maybe I can garner a little more information that way. And I have to admit, a company of Hakarta in town could provide some really outstanding protection.

�That all of them?� I say, watching the swaying form of the duck-like creature walk out.

Weird. So weird. Think Howard the Duck crossed with a cross-dresser. I have to admit, for most of the meeting, I was battling my sense of incredulity.

�Yes. For today,� Katherine answers.

�Huh.� I tilt my head toward the exit. �You know, no one�s barged in since you started. And everyone seems to know when to come in, even if we end up chatting a bit.�

�Ah, a simple matter with a Skill of mine.�

When she refuses to elaborate, even after a long silence, I push ahead. �You said for today.�

�Yes. A few more requests have come in since the schedule was created. I plan to have another bloc of such meetings in a few days. At which point, I believe, we should have a clear idea of who and what might be offered,� Katherine elaborates.

�Nice.� I sigh and lean back. Good. I don�t have to make a damn decision just yet. Even if I know that I can�t push things off too long.

Chapter 4

Early morning drives on the West Coast are always beautiful, even if it�s on forest-lined, battered highways leading to industrial wastelands. Fighting back a yawn�drawn forth from boredom more than physical cues�I swing Sabre around the mangled corpse of a deer on my way to the meeting.

Weeks after we�ve taken the cities, things have finally begun to settle down. I�m still hesitating on approving any single Adventuring Guild, even the ones who have dropped by a few times to press their cases. Truth be told, I�m not entirely sure who or how to set up the deal, so I�m procrastinating till a better idea comes along. Luckily, I�ve got Peter, one of my new city managers, researching previous deals made both on Earth and other worlds. It�s as good an excuse as any for delaying.

Katherine�s recommendation to build out the bureaucracy to run the cities has developed quite well. Kamloops and Kelowna have shaken themselves out pretty fast�an advantage of their tiny populations. There have been few arguments involved, and if anyone does want to bitch about management, they only need to walk down the street. It makes me think about life in small towns and villages, before the industrialization of the world. It makes me think of Whitehorse too, if less political. Don�t get me wrong, I�m not yearning for a time before proper plumbing and professional entertainment, but there�s something to be said about being able to punch in the face the asshole who raised your taxes. Or having your neighbor lend you a gun because it�s the right thing to do.

�How much farther?� I ask Ali, mostly rhetorically.

�Uhhh�� Ali blinks, turning his head to the side.

I look up and blink. �And why are you wearing a turban and a robe?�

�Seriously?� Ali glares at me, the white robe floating around his feet as he sits. �You know better, boy-o.�

�Fine. I know it�s not a turban�that�s for Sikhs. I just don�t know the term, at least for men,� I point out.

�If it�s white, it�s called a keffiyeh and thawb.� A shit-eating grin splits his darkly tanned face. �And I figure we�re meeting Americans, right? Might as well play to their delusions.�

I sigh and shake my head. I guess he�s going to make himself known then. A part of me considers ordering the Spirit to stay hidden so he can be another card up my sleeve. I recall doing that when I first entered Whitehorse, scared of what I�d find. But considering what we�re about to do, I have a feeling that hiding him could be futile and potentially lead to accusations of deception.

�We�re trying for a peaceful, productive meeting,� I say without much hope in my tone. Still, a man has to try.

�This better?�

After I pick myself and Sabre off the asphalt and brush down my now-dirty armored jumpsuit, I resolutely refuse to look at the Spirit while speaking to him. �Why are you wearing a Borat swimsuit?�

�What? Everyone loves that movie.�

�Your definition of everyone needs readjusting. And I repeat, we want a peaceful, productive meeting. So for all our sakes, control yourself. Or else I�ll banish you,� I say.

Ali sniffs, and I risk a quick glance out of the corner of my eyes to see him in a simple black shirt and blue jeans. I exhale softly, catching the grin on Ali�s face, and I realize the ass was messing with me. Still, it worked. I�m a lot less tense.

As we roll along the 5 into the outskirts of Everett, I eye my surroundings with a little more care. All I really know of this satellite town is that it�s mostly industrial buildings and bikini-barista coffee shacks. As I drive past one such shack, tucked in the corner of a gas station, I�m surprised to see movement within. A moment later, I realize it�s an evolved cat, not a human. I�m a bit disappointed. Those bikini-barista girls are weird, a strange intersection of the West Coast caffeine obsession and male lust. I blink after a moment�Ali�s most recent game crossed my mind as it free-associated around bikinis.

�What did you say?� Ali asks, cocking his head in my direction.

�Kittens. Cute, fluffy kittens,� I remind myself aloud, trying to bleach my brain.

Thankfully, we�re going to be meeting outside downtown Everett at Spencer Island Park. It�s not anyone�s choice location, too far out of Seattle proper for the groups based in the city, not inside Everett itself or any other satellite town for the suburb groups. No one�s happy, which makes it the perfect meeting spot.

Ali fills in my minimap long before I arrive at the meeting space, showcasing the wide variety of Classes and individuals awaiting me. There are Scouts, Hunters, Sneaks, and Rogues galore on the outside, keeping away the monsters that might disturb the meeting. And within, we�ve got an even wider variety of Classes�but as always, almost all of them are Combat Classers. Damn it.

When I glide into the parking lot on Sabre, I attract some attention. When they realize I�m alone, I attract even more. And by the time I take my place off to the side, without joining any of the other groups, everyone is looking at me. Tapping the side of my helmet, I let it slide down to let everyone see me properly while I regard the groups.

In one corner is a group predominantly made up of Mages of one form or another, all Advanced Classes, all of them within five Levels of each other, most leaning toward an Asian / South-Asian mix. They�ve got specializations from Ice Elementalists to Conjurers to Metamagician and more. Almost all of them have decent Constitutions, but few seem to have put anything into Strength or Agility. In addition to the Mages, I spot a couple of what must be tanks, one of them still in his security guard uniform. A single girl stands out in the crowd of men, alone. At a guess, those would be the programmers from Microsoft.

In another corner are the Sons of Odin, who are shooting dismissive and angry looks at me and the Mage group. No surprise in their makeup, though there�s a few more women among the long-haired, biker-styled idiots than I�d expect. Lots of yellow hair there, some obviously bottle blond. I check out their Levels and their Classes, noting a decent mix that leans toward melee fighting with a wider range than the Mages. Their leader is obvious, a tattooed monster of a man, nearly seven feet tall with a ponytail and biker leathers, a monster of a pistol strapped to his leg. Quick verification from Ali shows that it�s likely enchanted leather, offering more than just aesthetic appeal.

Sweeping my eyes along, I assess the other groups. A multi-national group leaning toward Latinos in one corner. An all-female group in another. A couple of groups almost exclusively made of African Americans. Another pair that I could swear is made up of the criminal elements. The baristas�one of the few non-Combatant groups here�have their own corner with a table laid out, doing brisk business selling cups of joe and bottles of their pre-made coffee.

My gaze is drawn to the large group of individuals in military uniform. Or are those army fatigues? My enhanced memory absently points out that a uniform is just a mode of dress and fatigues are just combat uniform. Or at least, that�s what those books alluded to. When my eyes lock on the group, my stare is met by a gentleman in his late forties. Flanking him is a group that is obviously his security detail and the person I assume is his aide. I�m sure the things on their uniforms have something interesting to say, but I don�t read military. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to those rank insignias in those first-person shooters I used to play. That is, if fictional space marine insignia translates to the real world.

�Coffee?� A soft whisper of a voice to my left almost makes me jump. Even if I knew she was going to try it, Ingrid almost has me levitating off the ground.

�Sure,� I keep my tone cool as I take the cup. Even the faintest whiff is enough to make me salivate. The taste itself is incredible�perfectly mellow, with strong hints of cinnamon and an aftertaste that disappears before I sip again. I�ve finished half the cup before I realize it. �Damn��

Superior Cold Coffee Ingested

+8% to Regeneration Rates

Duration: 1 hour

�Told you,� Ingrid says with a smirk. �So where�s everyone else?�

�They�ll be here.�

Ingrid rolls her eyes. �Well, don�t screw it up. It took me quite a bit to get everyone to show up.�

�You did good,� I say. A glance at the clock in the upper right tells me we�ve got another five minutes before we�re supposed to start.

�Let�s get this started,� the blond biker says, stomping forward. I mentally tag him as BB�a childish toy wanting to be grown up. �We�re wasting time and kills here.�

A glance around shows that while he might be impatient, no one seems to be gainsaying his words. Grunting, I walk forward, a slight queasiness in my stomach that I push aside. Public speaking was never my forte, but after all I�ve gone through, that fear is easy enough to deal with.

�Afternoon. Thank you all for coming,� I say. Blondie shifts in impatience, but I ignore him as I let my gaze wander around. �My name is John Lee. I�m the current owner of Vancouver and the settlements around it. Since you guys are our closest neighbors, I figured it�s time for us to meet and talk. Especially before the Sect returns.�

�Sect?� a voice calls from one of the groups.

�The aliens,� BB replies. �Invading our territory, claiming it for their own.�

�Are they expected to return? Your friend indicated that they had retreated from their holdings in Vancouver,� the soldier says. Well, Officer, to be exact for his Class.

For now, I ignore their names since I can fix their characteristics in my mind easier this way. Also, I hate remembering names and I have more important things to deal with. �Not soon. We�ve done enough damage to them here that they�re going to consolidate before they come back. But they�ll be back. If not them, someone else.�

The Officer inclines his head slightly, accepting my words. Murmurs rise as others talk.

One of the Mages steps forward. Purple hair, a Blue Mage, whatever that is. �So what do you want? You didn�t call this meeting to just say hi.�

�Yeah, what do you want, eh?� BB mocks.

�No. I didn�t,� I say, replying to the Blue Mage and ignoring BB. �How much do you people know of the world around us? Of the state of your nation and the world?� I ask rhetorically. �We�re lucky here, mostly. We�ve got our cities back under human control. There are other cities, other countries where humans are desperately fighting for any space they can find. There are a lot of places where humans are what the Sect would have us be�Serfs and servants, landless peasants without a say.� I pause before I take my next gamble. �If you�ll allow me, there�s someone I think you should all hear from.�

�Someone�?�

There�re more than a few looks around me, obviously not seeing anyone. But more than a few nod and a few shrug, figuring I�ve got whoever I want farther out. Which means when the glowing black and gold Portal opens up, there are a few exclamations of shock.

�That�s sweet.�

�Nice. Dimension Door?�

�Long-range teleport,� his friend mutters.

The Mages whisper among themselves.

�A Skill,� I answer everyone.

Lana comes out first, followed soon after by her pets. The animals get a few looks but no exclamations since they�re obviously under control. That, and the seven-foot-tall brute of a minotaur clad in modern combat armor draws all the attention, such that Mikito is barely even seen.

�Monster!�

A targeted beam attack splashes against Capstan�s portable shield. The Yerrick growls as he drops a hand to his combat axe. Lana steps forward quickly, blocking the attacks as best she can while I throw a Soul Shield on her and the pets spread out, letting out low growls. Another second and a twist of my hand has me layering a Soul Shield on top of Ulrick as well.

�Stop that!� I snap.

�He�s a monster. A� bull-thing!� The first attacker still has his beam rifle pointed at Ulrick, though he�s not shooting. His friends have all pulled weapons as well, ready to attack the Yerrick.

�Minotaur,� one of the Mages mutters pedantically.

�I�d drop that,� Ingrid says, whispering into the attacker�s ear. A knife is at his throat, the young First Nations woman magically appearing next to the man.

A part of me wonders when she disappeared, but I dismiss that question for more important things. Like the rising tension as BB pulls and points his pistol at her head.

�Chill it,� I snarl.

�Calm,� Lana states, the Aura of the Red Queen flaring again. Her hair seems to darken, becoming a blood red that is not entirely natural. Those violet eyes shift to a brilliant purple as her skin becomes fairer and closer to marble. More, a palpable sense of danger comes from her now.

The attacking group, bearing the brunt of her attention, whitens, a few stepping backward and lowering their guns, others clenching their fists.

�So. Hot,� a hipster kid manning the barista bar, the same one who exclaimed how �sweet� my portal was, says, his tongue almost hanging out. Probably not the effect Lana�s Aura was meant for.

�Charisma effect. Not always going to work the way you think it will,� Ali mentions. �But I got to agree, damn but the lady�s quite edible.�

�I hope this isn�t how you mean to treat us. Threats are not the basis of a good working relationship,� the Officer says, his legs spread as he stands at ease, hands behind his back. Still, I can see the slight tightness around his eyes, the tension in his shoulders as he wills himself to ignore Lana�s aura.

BB keeps his gun pointed at Ingrid, fingers white around the pistol hilt.

�Capstan Ulrick is our friend and a guest. Attacking him is an attack on us,� I say firmly. �But we�re willing to set the violence aside and talk if everyone else is.�

�Fuck that. I ain�t listening to no alien,� snarls BB.

�Then leave,� I say.

�You�� BB growls, shifting his gaze and pistol to point at me.

I ignore his provocations, watching as the others edge away from fighting. Repressed by Lana�s aura and without additional violence or any hostile action by Capstan, the initial impetus fades. Lana, sensing the mood change, drops her Aura. Yet the pets don�t move from their positions around the Yerrick.

It�s then, and only then, that I dismiss the Portal. My Mana is nearly half gone, between all the casting and Skill usage, but there�s more than enough to get us out of here again. The way the Officer is eyeing me and the location where the Portal is, I can see his mind churning.

Until Capstan speaks. �My name is Capstan Ulrick, First Fist of my tribe. The Redeemer has requested that I speak of my people�s history to you, to explain a little of what you must understand. The dangers that lie ahead.� Capstan�s eyes sweep over the group. �The Yerrick are a displaced people. Our home world was integrated into the System without warning, like yours. Unlike you, we integrated into the greater Galactic System as one of their many worlds. What we did not understand was the meaning of this. We did not understand that a settlement, once sold, cannot be rebought. That land, once taken by the larger groups, could never be retrieved. Not without war.

�We were lied to, tricked, and threatened. We lost our lands, our settlements, and eventually, our world. Now the Yerrick serve under others. My people are scattered through the Galaxy as they attempt to earn enough Credits to survive.�

�Boo hoo hoo. One set of aliens taking advantage of another,� one of the Sons of Odin interjects.

Capstan stares at the interrupter, the look he gives him priceless�it�s the kind of look you give a particularly hairy bug and you�re trying to decide if killing it or smacking it away is the better choice. Once the Son of Odin quiets down, Capstan speaks in detail. For the next hour, he talks. At first explaining the process and their history, later diverting to specific questions.

I keep quiet, listening with half my attention. I know most of this already, having spoken with him before. But the information is a revelation to most others.

So much of it is familiar though�to anyone who studies history anyway. Find a few groups that are at odds, pit them against each other while you pay pennies on the dollar for goods�land�that you want while selling your goods at a huge markup. Control the information, control access to the Shops, bring in secondary or tertiary groups to �rule.� Never, ever keep a promise that is bad for you, breaking contracts and rules where you can. After all, a Contract might hold you and the other party to it, but if you word it right, the Contract can affect an entire settlement on one end and a disposable corporation on the other.

And always, always, keep control of what�s important�the City Core and the people.

�Thanks, First Fist,� I say to Capstan after an hour, when the crowd is getting bored, other than a few notable individuals. �Now, the reason I wanted you to hear that is for you guys to start figuring out what the hell you�re doing. From what I understand, you�ve left the Sect in control of various City Cores because none of you can agree on who gets to control them. Or hell, which form of government you intend to take.�

�There shouldn�t be any real argument. We�re still part of the US of A. We should be having an election,� a rather tubby gentleman mutters, his arms crossed in front of him.

His friends are all nodding firmly, as are a few groups.

�We are in a national emergency. In such a circumstance, the United States Army should take control of the city till we are in contact with a legitimate authority,� the Officer says, shaking his head. �If an election is decided upon, we can help conduct such an event in a fair and impartial manner.�

�Oh, like we�re going to let you army boys take over,� growls an African American man. I�m a bit jealous really�he�s wearing the System-equivalent of a leather hoodie and it�s styling. �Like you guys are actually supposed to be acting on US soil.�

�This is a unique situation,� the Officer says, turning to the man. �And there are specific protocols that have been put in place��

�Yeah, and you still won�t tell us about what�s happened with your nukes,� one of the baristas says, glaring.

�We�ve already said there is an SOP involved in such a situation. Suffice it to say that there are plans in place for a catastrophic event like this.�

�Oh really, you guys got protocols for the end of the world and the introduction of humanity to a gaming system?� scoffs the Blue Mage.

�Not exactly, but��

�Ahem,� I cough, quite loudly. �Look, I get it. You all have questions, and you�ve got your own things to deal with. But the longer you argue, the more people�your people�die. You need to get yourselves a city, which means putting together a real organization that all your city cores are tied to.�

�And how did you do that?� the Latino spokesperson asks, eyeing me.

�I own it. All of it,� I say, seeing no point in lying. �We�re working on a better government system, but Vancouver and its surrounding cities are now tied together.�

�You�re a Canadian dictator?� the African American says, choking on a laugh.

�Free maple syrup for all!� the Son of Odin heckler speaks up. This time, he does get a few laughs. �Watch out for the giant beavers!�

That last one gets less of a laugh as they stare at the giant red fox and Lana�s puppies.

�For now,� I say with a shrug, ignoring the heckling. �Speed is important, if you guys haven�t understood Capstan�s point. Once the big boys start moving�and some already have�we�re screwed. As it is, Texas is wholly owned by the Inlin Corporation. Alaska and the Yukon by the Duchess. Europe�s a battleground between five different groups, two of which are backed by the Movana. We need to establish a foothold and take out the smaller groups if we want any say in our lives.�

�And you want our help,� the Officer says, eyes narrowed.

�Aye. My people are good. But there aren�t enough of us. If we�re going to be expanding, we�re going to need help,� I say.

�And there we have it. The real reason you came down,� BB says before spitting to the side. �I knew you people had an agenda. We ain�t going to die for you.�

�I�m not�� I protest.

�And who�s going to take control of those cities, dictator?� the Latino calls out, hands crossed in front of him.

�That�s up to discussion.�

A roar of disapproval explodes when I say that. More questions are shouted, BB smirking as he watches the entire meeting break down. Lana shoots me a look, but I shake my head, instinct telling me that using her ability now would be seen as a provocation.

Forty minutes later, we stand around, staring at the few groups that have stayed after the others dispersed. I did my best, as did Lana, but the meeting went out of our control, egged on by BB and a few other malcontents. I couldn�t exactly blame them�having a stranger come in and tell them they sucked was never going to work out well. But someone had to say it.

�That could have gone better,� I mutter.

�No shit, boy-o. Told you you should have let Lana talk,� Ali says.

I end up rolling my eyes slightly while Lana flashes me a sympathetic smile.

�From what you said, I understand you have certain plans concerning liberating more cities?� the Officer says as he walks toward our group.

With the meeting over, I�d popped open a Portal for Capstan to head back to Vancouver with a promise to port him the rest of the way home soon.

�Aye,� I say, glancing at the few interested groups.

The all-women group clad in Adventurer chic, a weirdo group who looks as if they took their dress code inspiration from superheroes, the Mages, Barista group, and a few more �normal� groups standby. About a third of everyone who came.

�Well?� the Blue Mage barks, the East Indian almost bouncing in impatience. I absently note that he�s not gotten a genetic cleanse�or if he did, he opted out of getting more height, being a not-so-impressive 5�6�.

�Calgary,� I answer. �I�ll need to visit Edmonton first, which is human-controlled, and see what they want, but after that, we�re looking at Calgary. That�s currently controlled by two different factions�the Kingdom of Pewsin and Uvrik Corp. The first is a side kingdom of, hmmm, halflings I guess is the closest term. Not hobbits. These guys are vicious bastards. Uvrik Corp is a �small� Galactic corporation with a focus mostly on fortifying foodstuff.�

�Halflings and a food corporation,� one of the Mages mutters. �I swear there�s a joke in there somewhere.�

�If you look hard enough, there�s a joke all around you,� Lana says.

�Joke or not, between those two groups, they�ve got over twenty Advanced Class in play, with three of them in the high Levels. Even a single high Level Advanced Classer can do a lot of damage. We�d need at least three or four of our guys to contain one of them,� I say firmly.

�Our guys?�

�Well, if you all agree,� I say.

�You�re asking us to free a Canadian city,� one of the ladies says, eyeing the three of us.

�I�m asking you to free a city full of humans. Yes,� I say, meeting her eyes.

�She is correct that you are asking for much�� the Officer says leadingly.

I sigh quietly, knowing that there�s going to be politics. Always damn politics. �What do you want?�

�Your help. Your Skill.�

I cock my head to the side, waiting for more. As the Officer continues. �Your actions in taking Vancouver from the Thirteen Moon Sect helped Seattle greatly. Your Class, your Skill, and your people could do the same for our other cities.�

�Yeah, but what do we get out of it?� I say softly, angling for some advantage here. Truth be told, coming down here to get help was part of the goal, so I�m not exactly bargaining from a position of power. But at least, the need is mutual.

�That depends on how that Skill of yours works,� the Officer says, skin around his grey eyes crinkling as he smiles.

�Right�� I narrow my eyes as I finally get around to reading his Status. Octavian Wier, Level 7 Officer. �Octavian. Well, that�s something we can certainly discuss.�

�I prefer my middle name, but it�s Colonel Wier to you. Acting commander of the 7th Infantry Division out of Fort Lewis,� Wier says, seemingly nonplussed by my use of his name. I see a few looks shared around, but not much.

�Acting, sure. You�re all that�s left after the hydra rolled over your base,� one of the Mages says with a snort. �That damn monster made its way halfway up the city before we ended it.�

I glare at the man, shutting him up as the soldiers stiffen. Taunting people whose job is to protect others with the deaths of their friends doesn�t seem either charitable or smart.

Once I get my silence, I look back at the colonel. �Well, I don�t have much information on the state your country is in, so I�m going to need data at the very least. But if we do this, we�re really going to need your support on our end as well. All of you.�

I see more than a few pauses, a few looks around, and I sigh. Convincing these people, even the ones who stayed to help, seems as if it�s going to take a bit. Or, on seeing the avarice in some eyes, some bribing. Rather than convincing everyone to get involved here and now, we take names and information with promises of meeting up personally to discuss the levels of their support. Better to do the discussions in person.

Octavian�s is the first group we speak with. Rather than going back to his base, we end up at the discarded remnants of a local coffee store. It�s not the best option, but it has chairs and we�ve all got travel mugs of Barista-made coffee, so it seems mildly appropriate. We get there after I�ve sent most of the team home, rather than dragging everyone about. Outside, the pets and most of Wier�s soldiers stand guard, including an interesting pair of Rangers. I�m slightly amused that the older aide keeps staring at me with what I assume is disapproval, but at least he hasn�t voiced it. Either way, I send a note to Ali to dig into the soldiers� Status information while we talk, curious what kind of goodies they might have picked up.

�So. Retaking the USA,� I say, starting us off.

�Yes. Currently, remnants of our chain of command are gathered around Fort Belvoir, where there is a Shop. We�re in contact with them,� Colonel Wier says, a fact that startles me. Long-range communication is one of the things that we all lost, and while it�s possible to replace it, it�s expensive. That he�and the Fort�chose to get it up is startling at first. Then, it�s kind of obvious. �There are three other alien groups in Washington: one Corporation and a pair of alien governments�one a Kingdom consisting of half-giants, and one an Empire of kobolds.�

�What kind of kobolds?� Ali asks with a frown.

�Kind?�

�You humans seem to mix up three different races. Are they draconic, dog-like, or like short, skinny humans?�

�Uhhh� dog-like.�

�Pooskeens. From the planet Pos.�

�Won�t that make them Poskeens?�

Ali stares at me, hands on his hips.

�Sorry. Right. Alien grammar,� I mutter, shaking my head.

�What I�m going to say, I hope you will keep to yourself for now,� The Colonel says softly, visibly bracing himself before he continues. �In Fort Belvoir, we have the current Secretary of Agriculture, the highest elected authority we are in contact with. Along with her, we have a number of congressmen and senators. We have confirmed the death of most of the others in the chain of command including the vice president. Others are believed to be compromised.

�As such, the Secretary has�legitimately�assumed power. However, a number of army and national guard groups don�t have contact with us or her or are refusing to take orders from us. Some refuse to act on US soil. Others have gone rogue. We�ve got rebel groups, independent operating groups, and a few cities all working by themselves throughout the country.�

�No one knows who to trust, so everyone�s doing their own thing?� Lana interjects, her brows drawn together.

�In essence, yes. There are police forces and national guard members working independently,� Wier says finally. �We need to put an end to this as quickly as possible, which is why I�m looking for your help. If you can open those Portals of yours, we can shift our men to bolster allied forces and begin negotiations with those on the fence.�

�It doesn�t work that way,� I say with a sigh. I ponder for a moment keeping the details of my power back, but in this case, I realize I�m going to have to tell him something. �I can only Portal to places I�ve been to before. And keeping the Portals open are extremely Mana intensive.�

Wier nods slowly, rubbing his chin. �We can work with that. If we allocate specific teams, my men can still provide force multipliers and specialized help. We could even provide you guards and aides now.�

�No thanks,� I say with a shake of my head. �No offence, but I work better alone.�

Wier just shoots a look at my team but I refuse to back down from that statement. For one thing, it�s the truth, damn it. For another thing, anyone he sends with me is just going to act as a spy and nanny, and I neither want or need either.

�If we help you, you and your people will help us free the Canadian cities. All of them,� I say.

Wier cracks a slight smile, leaning forward. Now that I�m actually negotiating, he knows he has me. The rest of this is just a matter of numbers and plans, of how we�re going to do this rather than if. And really, I never was going to turn him down. For the next hour or so, we negotiate men and numbers, timelines, and other details. We leave a lot unsaid or to be confirmed, a lot to be determined later or open for amendments because we both understand how Murphy can be a bastard. But in the end, we have a rough agreement, one that starts with him helping us first before we shift to some American cities. When we�re done, we shake hands as you do. And that�s when we get a surprise.

Settlement Agreement Reached

Would you like to confirm the agreement (see attached)? There are significant penalties to reputation for breaching such an agreement. Additional penalties may apply (see agreement).

(Y/N)

I blink, staring at the new notification. Wier shows surprise too, obviously getting a similar screen.

�Well, that�s interesting,� Ali says, staring at the screen as well.

�You didn�t know about this?�

�Never had a Companion who was a settlement owner, so no.�

�How do I add penalties to this then?�

�You can�t. Looks like you need the Skills or an upgrade to your City.�

�So no penalties. Huh.�

�This is interesting. But I don�t need a System to keep my word,� Wier says.

Even if he does say that, I note he acknowledges and accepts the System agreement. I do too a moment later.

�Nice. Now for the next conversation,� I say, smiling. �Not to be rude, but��

�I understand. It�s a pleasure doing business with you. We�ll be in touch for further details.�

�I�ll need to visit your base at some point.�

�Of course,� Wier agrees readily. One of the things we had to cover in our discussion was the limits of my Portal Skill. �Just let us know.�

�I will.� I flash him a grin, making a note to get work on a communications array sorted.

Interestingly enough, what Wier did wasn�t purchase the array from the System but the plans. He shared that with us, so now all we had to do was get some high Level Mechanics and Engineers on it and we�d finally have a communications array stretching across the province.

�Who�s next?� I ask Lana and Ingrid after we leave, the young ladies on Lana�s overgrown, pony-sized puppies. Ingrid knows where we�ll have to go, and Lana was the one who set up the meetings.

�Mages.�

�Ah�� I can�t help but grin at that.

Look, the Microsoft campus was the kind of place where any programmer would have loved to have worked. Just short of the Google campus really. But that was a fairy tale dream for someone of my talents. Don�t get me wrong, I wasn�t bad, but �not bad� doesn�t get you into the big leagues.

�Down, boy,� Lana says, shaking her head. �Try not to get a nerd boner while talking to them, will you?�

�Funny.� I consider the meeting. Obviously Gates won�t be there, or Balmer. If they were, we�d have seen them at the meeting, but� �I didn�t recognize most of those Mages at the meeting.�

Ingrid nods. �No surprise. They lost a lot of people when the System came along. These days, the team you saw, they�re the front. I hear their real leadership team is out there, but I�ve yet to see them. Way I understand it, they�re busy Leveling.�

Under that somber spell, we make our way to their headquarters and are met just before we enter. The same group we saw at the meeting greets us. Now that I�ve got a bit more time, I look over the mixed race group and spot someone who�s likely of Vietnamese / Laos descent, a couple of Indians, and a few Caucasians.

�Mr. Lee,� the Blue Mage says, offering me his hand.

Realizing I might actually have to talk to him significantly more, I spend the time analyzing his status as I get off Sabre and set it to follow me along.

Charles Cutler (Blue Mage Level 6)

HP: 560/560

MP: 1840/1840

Conditions: None

�Nice to meet you.� I glance around. �Are we not being invited in?�

�No, no, nothing like that. We just wanted to make sure you had a proper escort,� Charles says, rubbing the top of his bald crown. For all that he might be folliclely challenged, the fortyish man seems to be in good health, with no sign of a gut and even some definition around his arms. �We�ve already voted and decided to give you all the help you need.�

�Pardon�?� I freeze, staring at Charles.

�You owe me fifty,� someone says in a thick Indian accent, but I�m still staring at Charles, waiting for his explanation.

�We�ll help you. There are limitations�we won�t reduce our guard below what�s safe for us�but if you need it, we�ll throw whatever help we can. You can consider us Allies,� Charles says again.

Settlement Alliance Offered (John Lee & the Mages of Seattle)

An offer of alliance has been offered. An alliance will automatically classify all trade between settlements as alliance trades for the purposes of taxes, tariffs, and duties. In addition, this open alliance offer includes a mutual defense treaty. Failures to uphold this alliance will result in penalties to reputation. Additional penalties may apply (see details).

Note: As you are in a State of War with the Thirteen Moon Sects, the Mages of Seattle will automatically be considered at War upon agreement to this alliance.

Agree? (Y/N)

�Ali? The details?� I say, my eyes wide as I scan the information. I absently note that Charles has already read and dismissed his notification, a glowing little mark indicating that they�ve accepted their side of the agreement showing up on my own blue screen.

�One second. It�s lengthy. Damn, but I wish Kim was here,� Ali says, his eyes darting over the information.

After a moment, I share the screen with Lana, whose eyebrows rise then furrow as she reads. The lady has a business degree, so she might catch something Ali or I don�t.

�This is generous.� I stare at Charles. �Why?�

�Simply put? We understand your motivations.�

�My what�?� I stop, realizing what he means. �You�ve been buying information on me from the Shop.�

�Yes. Ever since your friend��he waves at Ingrid, who is busy chatting with another young lady in the group��came to us about you and your plans, we�ve been researching you. It�s been entertaining and enlightening. We understand your goals, and we agree with them.�

I open my mouth to ask why again but stop, realizing that�s probably rather insulting. Why can�t other people want to do good? Yet a cynical part of me really questions their ready agreement.

�We also think you and the Colonel will need our help. We have a number of Seers and Diviners who can fix some of your problems, guide you around potential issues,� Charles continues as we walk into the campus, a slight twitch of his lips as he notes my expression of surprise.

I�m getting a little annoyed at being tracked so much, but I push it down. �That�s good.�

�Now, I understand you were a programmer before? Have you ever been to our campus? It�s not what it was, but we�d like to think it�s still pretty amazing,� Charles says, waving. �In that building, we�ve got our Alchemists, Potionoligists, and��

I shut up, listening to him while Ali and Lana go over the documents. We�ll probably agree if they don�t see any serious landmines. At this point, we can�t turn away any Allies, even if I find the entire thing a little fishy. So I shut up and listen, content to probe between descriptions.

Hours later�more hours than we should have spent with any one group�we�re finally out of the compound and on our way to the next group. We obviously agreed to the alliance, after Lana and Ali checked the terms and came up with nothing too troubling. A few probing questions got us a little more information about their thinking too.

�Did you notice that we never got to meet more of their people? Not even their main team. And I get the feeling they�re still holding a bit to the old corporate bureaucracy,� Lana says, finishing my unvoiced thought.

�Aye.�

�They are a corporation. Soul sucking bastards that they are,� Ingrid says, shaking her head. �But the way I understand it, their main team are still below our Levels.�

�Huh.� I grimace. �Well, at least we know our Levels are one of the reasons they want to help.�

�I�m not sure I like that,� Lana says, lips thin. �Killing, killing sentients, for experience��

�Is efficient. Them saying that bothers you?� Ali chimes in. �Even if it�s true?�

�Yes.� Lana�s lips thin again. �It�s like most of the ones we met see this as a game. The way they kept going on about our �prestige� Classes, builds, and how to �game� their Advancement.�

�They might,� Ingrid says, �but their leaders don�t. From what my friends say, part of it is they�re angling for better relations with their government. There�s talk about making the campus an academy for Mages. I think they�re still thinking about profits, really.�

�Academy?� I ask, curious if it has more meanings. Or what, if any, bonuses the System might offer.

�System-registered dedicated learning institution. You get bonuses for learning and research. It requires, well, Credits and land and a few other things,� Ali says. �They can�t do it right now. It�s like a Tier II building.�

�So, they need help building upwards,� I say slowly. And of course, being the largest and most developed settlement around, having us as allies is probably useful for them. It might even be part of their requirements to get an Academy in place. I make a note to check on that later, but at least now I have a better feel for the group. Idealistic gamers on the bottom end, fast-moving sharks on the top. So, perhaps not the best kind of allies, but probably reliable until things go completely to hell.

�Who�s next?� I call, deciding to put this issue aside for now. Whatever the case, getting more help is the goal.

�The Baristas.�

�You want to start a chain,� I say slowly and carefully.

�Exactly. We get land for free. We�ll do the buildup ourselves. We operate tax-free and train your people in your settlements. One per Shop,� Kaylee, the pink-haired, punk-rock-styled girl, says with an impish grin.

�Leased. And taxed,� Lana says, leaning in.

�No way. We own the place and twenty years tax-free.�

�Leased. Tax- and rent-free for ten years.�

I roll my eyes, sitting back and letting the pair argue. At least this is reasonable. As I sip on a latte, I can�t help but think that we�re getting the better part of the deal.

�We�re mercenaries. We get paid for our help.�

�I see,� I say slowly, while thinking that they really, really aren�t. A ragtag group of ex-weekend warriors, gang members, and thieves is what I�d guess. Capstan and his people, the Major, they�re mercenaries. These guys are wannabes. �What are your rates?�

�Well now, that�d depend on how many of our people you want and at what Levels.�

I grunt, sighing. �Got a rate sheet? And a frequent user reward card?�

�No� but we could look into that,� Laila, the African American woman with the big, big hair says uncertainly, not entirely sure if I�m kidding or not.

Truth be told, I�m not sure either.

�I hear you�ll be fighting more of those aliens,� Desmond, the greying, bearded man, says before spitting to the side. He�s in charge of a group that formed from one of the suburbs, a mixed group of upper-middle-class folk. His group isn�t the strongest, but being far enough from the front lines means they�ve managed to survive and prosper.

�That�s the plan. Freeing the cities and pushing them back,� I say.

�And what do you plan for the alien crafters, the non-fighters?�

�They�re called Artisans. Galaxy-wide, that is,� I say, curious where he�s going with this.

�Artisans then.�

�Well, I haven�t really considered it much yet,� I say, frowning. �We didn�t have many to deal with in Vancouver.�

�And the few you did? Those aliens?�

�Most aren�t Sect members, so they�ve been allowed to stay.�

�I see. And if they were part of the Sect?�

�We�ve been leaving the Artisans alone. They�ve mostly shipped out anyway. The few who stick around, we�ve restricted their movements and dealings, but they are unharmed.�

�And prisoners?�

�We had none,� I say, grimacing. The Sect fought to the last man in Kamloops. The needless deaths soured my emotions, reducing what little patience I have for all this politicking. �Why don�t we stop dancing around? Tell me what you�re asking.�

�I understand that they made our people Serfs in Vancouver. Seems like a good, profitable solution. We certainly could use higher Level Artisans,� Desmond says.

Rather than answer him�not that I physically could with the way the anger chokes up my voice�I stand and walk out. Asshole.

�Mr. Lee�� he cuts off as Lana shoots him a disgusted look, the pets growling in unison to her change in emotions.

If I had to listen to him speak further, I might do something he�d regret.

Meetings after meetings, that�s our next few days as we make our way through the groups willing to talk. Everyone wants something. Assurances, alliances�informal or formal�or even the right to immigrate. Trade deals and training, it�s all there. And while I work over the ones who indicated earlier that they were willing to talk, Lana�s on the others, the ones who refused, working her Charisma and charm.

All because we want to help them out. Gods, sometimes I hate people.

Chapter 5

I survey my friends, my teammates, my fellow dungeon delvers one last time as Sabre slides into place over my body. Mikito is already fully armed and armored in her own PAV, while Lana finishes checking over the harnesses on her pets. The harnesses are for the mini portable shield generators which will act as additional armor for the pets. Instead of a single generator, Lana commissioned a custom harness with each generator, providing a smaller area of overlapping coverage. It�s basically the force field equivalent of scale armor, but projected an inch or so above the pets� bodies. The shields themselves are ablative protections, meant to absorb a small amount of damage before failing and restarting.

Behind Lana, Sam�s doing his own last-minute fixes. All around him are dozens of drones. Rather than a few larger drones, Sam has decided to test out a new theory, chaining together multiple small drones via a �hive� mind process, giving him more flexibility but with lower damage output individually. Theoretically, they�ve got a higher overall damage output but are significantly more vulnerable. As the man put it, it�s a bit of an experiment. Still, having dozens of skittering, spider-like drones with a variety of weapons makes the older gentleman look just a touch scary.

Ingrid is Ingrid. The assassin sits quietly, buffing her fingernails while waiting for the rest of the team to get ready. She�s clad in her usual getup of light armored jumpsuit, a pair of emergency portable shields on her hips, knives and a blaster awaiting use. The First Nations woman looks perfectly calm, waiting for us to get moving.

�We ready?� I ask, my gaze finally falling on the last and latest addition to the team.

The Latino object of my regard grimaces as he swigs down another potion. A series of small vials is strapped across his body in bandoliers and belts, making him look like a weird mixture of Danny Trejo and a glassmaker. Propped against his feet is a weapon that looks like a slender grenade launcher.

Carlos Garcia (Level 48 Apprentice Alchemist)

HP: 380/380

MP: 1780/1780

Conditions: Stoneskin, Aura of Flame, HP Regeneration Buffed, MP Regeneration Buffed, Perception Buffed, Strength Buffed, � (more)

�I�ve a few potions for everyone,� Carlos says, waving at the green and grey vials that are hand-labeled and propped up on the ground in front of him. His Mexican accent is mixed with American after the years he�s spent in Seattle. �Stoneskin is grey. Gives you a little increase in your armor rating. The green is Eagle Eye; it�s a Perception buff. They�re my best potions, outside of the healing ones. Ingrid said that I should just sell the rest��

�A few more minutes,� Lana calls back as she works on the straps. We�d help, but our helping is what caused the initial delay as Lana fixes our mistakes.

While I wait, I pick up the Stoneskin potion and eye it for a second before downing it.

Stoneskin Buff Gained

+23 Armor Rating

Duration: 6 hours 18 Minutes and 4 Seconds

Thirty Levels ago, this would have been amazing. Twenty Levels and it�d have been a nice boost. Now, it�s a small drop in the bucket. Still, a small drop is better than nothing. Mikito picks up the potions, tossing them underhanded to Ingrid and Sam, the last almost fumbling the second catch. Carlos winces at the casual abuse of his work.

�Good choice,� I say. If these are his best, then I can understand why Ingrid got Carlos to sell his other work. Until Carlos can get his skill�and Skill�higher, his support potions aren�t that useful. �So your Health potions are better?�

�Of course�387 Health each,� Carlos says proudly.

�That�s not bad. Why the difference?� I ask.

�It�s complicated,� Carlos says, looking uncertain.

Before he can attempt to explain it, Ali pops into existence, snorting. �Let me simplify it for the boy-o. You know how making items works right, boy-o? Artisans get Skill Trees just like you, but the Skill Trees are a bit more complex. On one branch, you�ve got production Skills�making things faster, cheaper, or just replicating. Then you�ve got the assessment or analysis Skills�things that let the Artisan get better at what they�re doing. Lastly, you�ve got the actual product Skills, which dictate what you can produce. Within each of those product Skills, you might have classes of items or tiers which can improve how well you produce items of that sort.�

I note how more than a few people look at Ali as he explains things.

�That�s right. I�ve got��

�Hush, noob. I�m talking,� Ali says, running right over Carlos. �Now, when noob over there produces a potion, he�s going to be limited to some extent by the materials he uses. There�s only so much you can do if your materials suck. After that, his skill and experience at making the most out of the material comes into play. The more experience, the better he is, the more he can use the materials to their utmost. And then, you layer his Class Skills on top of that, boosting whatever he makes by his Skill. Master craftsmen can easily triple or quadruple the effects of even a low Level item due to their Skills.�

�Shortbus is correct,� Carlos says, nodding. �I�ve focused most of my Skills on Healing and Mana potions, so my support potions aren�t that powerful. But they�ll improve as my production Skills get better and I get more experience. Right now, I�ve got a thirty-eight percent efficiency with producing support potions.�

�Shortbus!� Ali starts up.

I send him a glare, shutting the Spirit down.

�Thank you,� I say to Carlos before glancing at Ingrid, who has returned to buffing her nails.

I grunt, wondering what she meant by dragging the man back with her and dropping him into our party with a single sentence as an introduction. �Meet our Healer.� Sometimes, that woman�

�So are you ready for this?� I ask him.

�I�ve been in dungeons before,� Carlos says firmly. �However, it�d be nice to know what the plan is.�

�We�re going to port in. Ingrid scouts ahead, finding traps and dealing with single Scouts. Everyone needs to have a shield up at all times�otherwise, the Yurk Scouts will poison you�and we clear the dungeon. Mikito and I are the front-line fighters, Lana and her pets are the flankers, and Sam fills in with his drones. You stay behind with Sam, healing as we need it,� I say, shrugging. �Pretty simple. It�s not that tough a dungeon.�

Carlos stares at me for a second, a faint look of disbelief on his face. That�s when Lana calls out she�s ready and impatient to get going, so I cast my Portal. Ingrid darts forward, the nail file stowed away in a flash. Roland and Shadow, not to be outdone, race through the Portal, followed by Mikito and Sam�s drones. Within seconds, the group is streaming through while Carlos stares at me, dumbfounded by my brilliance.

�You can heal, right?� I say as I gently pull him by his elbow across the Portal before snapping it shut.

�Sort of. I don�t have inherent Class Skills, but I�ve put most of my profits into buying Healing Spells and Skills. Most of my Class Skills are more suited for use outside the dungeon,� Carlos says.

�Good. Try to keep up then,� I say, looking around the university square.

It�s not really a square, more of a rectangle flanked by a squat faculty building to the right with an overhang farther down and elevated walkways to the left. Stairs lead down into the rectangle itself, the light brown squares dirty and overgrown with weeds.

Unlike our first time, there�s no large gathering of monsters, no grouping of nastiness. Sam�s drones are laying down mines and traps under his direction while others take off into the mist-enshrouded darkness to give us a better view. The digging drones are fast, laying out a mine field in minutes. I briefly wonder if we could use him to help build / rebuild some locations in town but dismiss it. Not the right time. Clearing the dungeon is a sideshow to our main objectives.

�Incoming,� Ingrid�s voice cackles softly over the communicator.

I�m grateful that Galactic tech comes with �smart� tech, transmitting messages to the correct recipient automatically. The more we use them, the �smarter� the tech gets.

On Ingrid�s warning, Lana falls back toward us, Anna and Howard taking stations a bit ahead, while Mikito stands as the spear of the group. No surprise that Roland and Shadow are nowhere to be seen. I step forward, joining the Samurai, while Sam crouches, deploying a portable shield around himself and Carlos as he controls his drones.

On my minimap, I watch the monsters streaming down roads and out of buildings, forming up, seemingly able to see or sense one another through the mists. Groups appear and disappear as Sam�s drones move around or, in some cases, get shot down. A few Scouts try to get close, but Ingrid and the pets strike and kill the Scouts long before they reach us to get a decent view. Luckily, we�re not near the forest or else it�d be more of a problem.

When they�re two-thirds of the way to us, Sam pulls his diggers back or hides them in the ground in an attempt to preserve the element of surprise. I finish my buffs, having tossed Soul Shield on myself, Lana, and Sam. I figured Carlos has enough buffs to keep himself alive. And if he doesn�t� well, we�ll find out.

At first, it�s just one or two Yurks, seen through the parting of the mists. They become more visible, more stable as they near us. Singular Yurks transform into groups moving in lockstep. Shield-bearing Yurks in the front, bow-wielding Yurks behind, and Yurks over twelve feet tall are scattered throughout. They march forward slowly, getting closer and closer to where our traps are set, then they stop as they shake out their lines.

�Boss�� Sam mutters, eyeing the group, obviously uncomfortable with their actions.

�Wai��

My words are cut off as the Yurk mages make their appearance. Or at least, make their presence known. Lightning bolts reach down, striking the earth in front of the reptile-frogs with booms of fury, electricity dancing in the air and destroying our carefully laid traps. I wonder why they didn�t call the strikes down on us. Unfortunately, I thought too soon�that�s when the lightning rolls forward, bringing electrical death.

�Hell�� I say, hunching slightly unconsciously as the lightning bathes us.

Electric fire reaches from the heavens, striking all of us as quick as a little dog�s temper tantrum, and just as quickly, it�s gone. Twisting around, I spot Carlos looking a little worse for the wear, steam rising from his cracked and burnt flesh. Even as I watch, his health creeps above half, but that�s not enough, so I throw a Soul Shield on him. He looks relieved, overloaded nerves in his body slowly recovering as he downs another potion. After a second, he stands straighter, burnt and smoking skin healing before my eyes. I absently wonder how he�s able to keep consuming so many potions without suffering from potion poisoning, but that�s probably a Skill.

�Damn. Your shield is down,� Lana says to me, running a hand along her long hair and fixing her ponytail. �And I�m going to have to see a hairdresser after this.�

I stare at the young lady, my mind splitting for a second as I realize I haven�t actually seen one in the past year. Outside of my hair growing slightly longer, I haven�t had to deal with it. For a moment, I wonder how the hell that works�before the plink of arrows hitting Sabre�s shield brings me back to the present. Deal with that question later. Later.

The rocking boom of Lana�s shotgun, the shrill whistling sound of gauss projectiles fired from Sam�s drones, the grunt of exertion as Carlos fires his potions down range anchors me to the moment. Ahead of us, our assault on the Yurks leads to death and fire, clouds of gas and shrapnel raining around us. Mikito absently swings her polearm, cutting arrows from the sky, the clearest traces of her movements the shattered shards of wood and bone.

I raise my hand, unleashing projectiles from Sabre�s rifle, each shot drilling into the Yurks. Anna pitches in a few seconds later as the army closes again, tendrils of flame whipping along glistening shells. A thudding boom, a change in rhythm, and the army charges even as the drums shift once more.

Musical Fear Effect Resisted

Without breaking step, Mikito counter-charges the group. I grunt, taking off after the insane woman, eyeing the range estimator in my helmet. Five meters later, I trigger the mini-missiles, the tiny explosives flying forward to tear and disrupt their ranks. A step later, Mikito shines, ghostly armor layering on top of her PAV, her body speeding up and becoming a living spear. The shock of her clash with the already disrupted vanguard throws back the front ranks of the army, the unlucky couple directly in front of her exploding apart from the transferred kinetic force of her attack.

Layered over the explosive meeting of lines, the howls and growls of the puppies reverberate in my chest and hearten our group. I trigger my Sonic Blaster a second later, layering confusion on top of shock before terror arrives in the form of the pets and Ingrid. Some appear from the flanks, others charging into the gap Mikito has created. And then I�m there too, swords dancing in my hands as limbs and bodies separate.

�Holy shit!� Carlos breathes over the communicator.

�Yeah, it takes getting used to,� Sam says with a chuckle. �Don�t worry, you get used to it. Sort of.�

Lana�s chuckle runs across the comms, reaching straight down my spine and making my lower body clench. The distraction is unfortunate, the attack from a Yurk behemoth catching me across my body and lifting Sabre off the ground and throwing me into the air. Before I can twist away, another attack slams me into the ground. My landing is only barely reduced by the body of an unfortunate Yurk Warrior.

My protective shields shattered, the next club attack is enough to dent Sabre�s armor and leave bruises all along my body. I stagger upward, spinning to send aside the Yurk Warriors who have crowded around me. Mecha-assisted strength and agility combined with my own attributes and my slender grasp of System physics provides me a moment of respite. Even as I stop spinning, the behemoth is before me again, its club approaching at a speed I�m unable to dodge. Thankfully, I�m not alone. A bladed polearm stabs forward, shifting the trajectory of the club.

�No lying down!� Mikito says, darting through a gap and leaving a surprised Yurk Warrior tottering on one foot as she continues her attack, dancing deeper into the army.

I snarl, staring at the Yurk behemoth retracting its giant club, readying for its next attack. Bunching my feet, I hop, feet slamming into the side of the club before I launch myself off it. Not directly at the behemoth as it expects but past it. When I�m half past its body, I twist, slamming my sword into its shoulder to alter my momentum. My shoulder aches, my sword slides and twists as it cuts, but it�s enough. A moment later, I swing my other hand, sword in it, into its neck.

As I ride the Yurk down, I raise my hand and unleash a fireball into another behemoth�s face, the attack partly deflected as a Warrior tackles me in the middle of my casting. Strong as I am, physics still has some say in this world and I�m shifted sideways, feet skidding on the blood-slick floor. Before I can recover to finish the behemoth, a fast-moving set of vials flies into the roaring monster�s mouth. Pink and purple smoke explodes as the vials shatter, the creature grabbing at its throat as it goes on a mad rampage, heedless of friend or foe.

�What the hell?� Lana says.

�Poison, capsaicin, and a hallucinogenic,� Carlos says. �Forces an enraged status while dealing damage over time.�

I�d add my two bits, but having dealt with one of their leaders, I�m getting swarmed by Yurk Berserkers.

Yurk Berserker (Level 41)

HP: 3287/3483

MP: 230/247

Conditions: Enraged, Pain to Blood, Acidic Form

These guys don�t seem to care what kind of damage I deal to them, happy to trade damage for damage. And when I cripple one by lopping off both its arms, it throws itself at me then blows itself up, coating me in unmentionables. Without my shields and the time to replenish them, Sabre�s taking a beating and myself within it, swords and axes punching through metal armor even as the nanites do quick repairs.

�It might be time to heal John,� Sam says, his voice absentminded as he controls his swarm.

�Right. Sorry!� Carlos replies.

A second later, I�m bathed in white light. My health stabilizes and starts rising. I�m only about a third down, Sabre�s armor and my own regeneration more than sufficient for most purposes. Then again, losing a third of my Health would have been enough to kill most Casters. So everything�s relative. But now that I�ve got healing support, I make Sabre disappear, content to let the mecha fix itself while I wade in, ready to deal a little damage face-to-face.

�How�s Mikito?� I growl over the radio. I could probably check on my party screen, but I trust her. Hell, while she might not have as much health as me, she�s got a decent buffer.

�Fine,� Mikito calls, her breathing and voice only slightly short from exertion. A white light flashes as her blade extends, chopping downward and sweeping multiple opponents aside.

After that� well, after that, it�s just mop up work.

�Not bad,� I say to Carlos, stretching out my muscles.

We�ve been at this dungeon for six hours, and we have finally figured out where the Boss is likely to be. Once we dealt with the main army, the numbers we faced were significantly smaller. It�s been annoying, going through classroom after classroom, laboratory after laboratory to deal with the Yurks. They keep switching tactics, going from stand-up battles to traps to ambushes to constant harrying attacks. The numbers and Levels have gotten steadily higher as we figure out the layout of the dungeon and attack the higher Level buildings. And through it all, Carlos has been healing and buffing us.

�Thanks. You guys�� Carlos shakes his head. �I�ve seen Advanced Classes fight before in Seattle, even joined a few other teams, but��

�But�?�

�But nothing like you guys,� Carlos says, walking alongside us.

�We�ve all got somewhat rare Classes. It gives us a bit of an advantage,� I say.

�It�s more than that,� Carlos says. �It�s more your style��

�You guys might have been fighting the Sect, but we�ve been fighting monsters all along,� Ingrid says, appearing right behind Carlos and making him jump.

�Gah!�

�Fighting aliens is easy. Most of them only have two hands and two legs. Makes their attack combinations easier to predict. Monsters swarm, come in different sizes and shapes. And they have a much wider range of Skills to use,� Ingrid says almost proudly. �The Sect members might have been higher Level, but they weren�t as savage. They want to live just as much you do. Monsters, they don�t seem to care. Also, you guys might have been out-Leveled at times, but in Whitehorse, we were always out-Leveled.�

I shrug, not entirely sure I agree with Ingrid�s explanation. I think the rarity of our Classes makes a bigger difference. More stats per Level, better Skills, hell, better equipment makes a difference. Over the course of fifty Levels, even a single extra attribute point adds up. The difference between someone at Strength 60 and Strength 10 is night and day.

�Enough talk. Sam, how�re your drones?� Lana says as we approach the final building�the chemistry labs. Says something about chemistry students when the dungeon Boss decides to hole up in their faculty.

�About half left. I�m out of reserves too. Not sure I�m liking this. Feels like I�m standing around burning Credits like a gangster on a coke high,� Sam grouses.

�But effective,� I point out.

Compared to previously, Sam�s been a lot more useful. I�ll admit, the crew-served weapon was great for the war, but in a dungeon, it�s limited. Now, his drones can and do a little of everything. Hell, he even had a few dedicated shield drones whose only job was to block attacks.

�That too.�

�All right, any last words?� I say as I walk up to the doors.

�Phrasing!� Ali calls out, his statement followed by chuckles but not much else.

�Well, this might get interesting. I�m staying intangible,� Ali says as we step into the laboratory.

The System�s warped the space within, the last laboratory having expanded to the size of a soccer field. All down the way, tables are filled with beakers and Bunsen burners, all of them boiling, distilling, and condensing a variety of liquids and solids, none of which I recognize.

�Take me with you?� Carlos entreats Ali, his eyes darting side to side. �None of this makes sense, but my Skills are saying it�s all explosive.�

�Figured,� I say. �Think it�ll regenerate like the other labs?�

�Obviously,� Lana says dryly.

Ingrid doesn�t answer, slipping forward through the shadows while Roland and Shadow follow on a parallel path. At the end of the laboratory is the Yurk Boss, clad in a laboratory coat of all things, his Enforcers and Bodyguards flanking him. Those, at least, seem to follow the �medieval warfare� theme.

�So. Frigging. Weird,� Sam says, his drones scurrying forward. One accidentally knocks over a beaker, and the resulting explosion consumes it and two of its friends. �Sorry!�

�Be careful,� I say, watching as the Boss group turns toward us where we stand at the entrance.

They aren�t moving, which means they�re likely waiting for reinforcements. That�s the way they�ve played it so far. Judging that Ingrid and company have gotten ahead far enough, we move forward, Lana leaving Anna and Howard to guard our backs. One uses heat; the other is the size of a pony. Neither of which works in such confined, volatile spaces. Shadow at least seems to have a weird ability to partly phase through things, occasionally seeming to blend with its own, sentient shadow. Roland, while huge, is scarily agile.

Making a decision, I jog forward, calling for Ingrid and the pets to slow down. Already, I can see the beaker that the drone tipped over back in place, the room magically having �healed� the location. A quick check shows my Soul Shield is at full strength, as is Sabre. Considering what we�re facing, I�m dressed fully, even if Sabre is showing signs of damage.

Our enemies don�t waste time once we get moving. Yurk Enforcers stand in front while the Bodyguards stay to the side, using atlatls to send spears arcing toward me, missing the fluorescent-lit drop-ceiling by inches. I dodge to the side, but I realize a moment later it doesn�t matter�they were never aiming at me. The ensuing explosions take me off my feet, throwing me sideways as the Enforcers seem to almost teleport to my sprawled form.

My shields soak up the initial explosions, the Enforcers swarming me. Axes and swords stab into my body, sparking against the shields. Dodged blows, backhands, and missed strikes set off more explosions as the Enforcers push me around the lab, none of the explosions seeming to harm the Enforcers much.

Yurk Enforcer (Level 48)

HP: 1287/1383

MP: 839/1042

Conditions: Lab Assistant, Shared Pool

�Ali!� I snarl, blocking a shot with my left hand while pumping projectiles into the Yurk�s face with the other. A crunch in my side comes from an attack that manages to pierce my shield, its trailing glow an indicator of a Skill.

�Shit. The Boss is giving all the Yurks near immunity to damage from the Lab through a Buff. And that Shared Pool means all your damage is getting shared around them,� Ali says, his eyes roving.

�Help please!� I snarl, stepping deep into one Enforcer�s attack and grabbing its arm.

I could Blink Step away, but as the tank, my job is to keep them busy. It pulls, its slimy, smooth skin slipping out of my grip before I can throw it into its friend. A Yurk steps up, ready to impale me, and stumbles away, smashing a vial that sends another wash of flame over us as Mikito�s naginata pulls out of its body.

�Go. I have them,� Mikito says confidently.

I�m not sure she�s right, but we need the Boss dead. I Blink Step the rest of the way, appearing next to the Boss with only its pair of Bodyguards now. That was the point of my initial rush, drawing them out to deal with each group in pieces. My sword swings downward, intent on cutting the damn Yurk Boss apart, only to be blocked by a Bodyguard. Pushed backward, I find myself dueling the pair of Bodyguards, unable to get past them to the Boss. The Boss ignores the entire thing, instead mixing together vials. Each time it�s done, it tosses the vials away to shatter on the floor. Colored smoke soon surrounds us, a variety of Status effects appearing.

You are Poisoned!

-13 HP per second. Effect partially resisted

You are Slowed!

-8% Agility. Effect partially resisted

You are Hallucinating!

-4% Perception. Effect partially resisted

Again and again, clouds of smoke erupt, affecting us all. Even through Sabre�s fully enclosed environmental system, I�m being affected, which doesn�t make sense. But then again, it�s the System and when has it ever made sense? I do know I�m only taking a portion of the effects, between my Class�s innate Resistances and the additional Resistances from Sabre. But as I skip backward and twist to dodge an attack, my friends aren�t as lucky.

Howard, Anna, Lana, and Mikito are fighting the half-dozen Enforcers in a chaotic skirmish. Lab tables and equipment are destroyed unceasingly, glass and wood shrapnel flying through the air to impale and injure while the System visibly regrows the set pieces, only for them to be destroyed again a moment later. Lana�s bleeding from a cut across her neck, shotgun held low as she feeds more shells into it while being protected by Anna. Shadow explodes from the side, shadow and real mouth taking hold of an Enforcer limb and pulling as if to tear it apart. But none of the monsters have fallen, and at least one, if not more, of the clouds has a regenerative effect.

I coat my sword with Frost Blade, hoping to slow the monsters down. That forces me to trade a cut across my body, which shatters the last of my shields, for the time taken to cast the spell. It also means I can�t dismiss the blade anymore, not without the spell losing its effect, but slowing these guys down is important. I fall back again and again.

�Down!� Sam snaps.

I duck, almost impaling myself on a sword before realizing the command wasn�t for me. A moment later, criss-crossing beams of fire light up behind me, baking my back even through Sabre. The resulting secondary explosion punches me deeper into the floor, jarring the Bodyguards and Boss above me.

�What the hell was that?� Lana shouts over the radio.

�Tier III Skill, All Hell Breaks Loose. I�m out of drones!� Sam says.

�Explain later. Kill now!� Mikito snarls.

As much as I want to look behind me, I�m busy batting aside swords, slamming my blade into any visible body part. Which, in most cases, is a hand or arm. Within four strikes, I can see the Bodyguards slowing, their hands frozen as the spell takes effect. But I pay for it. Sabre�s working overtime to deal with cuts and stabs, applying bandages and patching worn armor. A pale blue cloud reaches me, and a new notification appears.

Antidote applied! Poison Debuff Removed

�Urrrkk�� the Boss gurgles, Ingrid finally making her presence known.

Blades shoved into his kidneys and then withdrawn to cut the Boss�s throat, she saws away as she attempts to end this. Backstab and other Skill multipliers notwithstanding, this is a Boss and his health is unnaturally bolstered.

Antidote applied! Perception debuff removed

A Bodyguard teleports beside Ingrid and swings his sword down while she�s got her arms full. Before it can connect, Roland appears from the shadows, jaws clamping around the arm, the skill Massive Bite triggering. How something so big and terrifying can hide in this starkly illuminated space is terrifying and puzzling. I�m just glad he�s on our side.

Without a distraction, Ingrid focuses her attacks on the Boss, disrupting his ability to create more potions. Even a last-minute explosion which throws her backward doesn�t save him, the poison her blade�s coated in slowly ripping him apart.

After that, it�s mop up time. Carlos continues to throw out potions, some actively destroying the clouds, others just removing debuffs or buffing us in the other direction. With only one Bodyguard to fight, I kill him quickly and return to the fight with the Enforcers, all of whom are suffering from burns and reeling from the damage. Even then, I can tell that Mikito and Lana are the worse for wear.

Congratulations! Dungeon Cleared

+5,000 XP

First Clear Bonus

Having cleared the bonus for the first time, you have been rewarded an additional +5,000XP +1,000 Credits.

�Well, that was fun.� I grunt, sitting on the floor.

With the Boss defeated, the formerly volatile mixtures seem to have stabilized, letting Carlos and Sam join us as we sprawl on the floor.

�Jesus Christ,� Carlos says, shaking his head. �What are your pain resistances? That must have hurt!�

�Pretty high,� I say, not wanting to point out my Class came with an innate resistance to pain.

Mikito nods while Lana snorts as she adjusts her clothing futilely. After a moment, she mutters something about going to get changed, her pets following her out the door. Mikito turns bright red, realizing the state of her clothes and the amount of skin she�s showing, and Hastes out of the room after Lana.

�I�ve seen high. Worked with someone with resistances over 40% and he still didn�t want to tank. Said it still sucked,� Carlos says.

�Ah�� I frown, considering how to answer that.

�Well, boy-o�s insane,� Ali answers with a knowing grin.

�And I try not to get hurt,� Ingrid says with a smirk.

�Never mind all that, what have we got for loot?� Sam interjects, pointing at the Boss�s body.

We all pause then grin, spreading out to loot our kills. A few minutes later, with Lana and Mikito back, we share the information on our murder-happy gains.

+28,385 Credits

Tier III Hallucinogenic Recipe Gained

Tier II Potion of Strength Recipe Gained

Those are the interesting items. I�m particularly impressed we got Credits, since that almost never happens. One of the few advantages of fighting something sentient. Of course, the recipes go to Carlos while the miscellaneous monster parts and mildly interesting weapons get packed away for sale. Neither Mikito nor I need their melee weapons and the others don�t fight in close quarters, so they�re Shop fodder.

�Now what?� Carlos says, looking around.

I shrug. �Now we do it again in a few days when the dungeon resets. And we write up a guide for our people so that they can do it too. Once we clear it enough, the System should have dispersed enough Mana that the dungeon will stop coming back.� I mentally send a request to Ali to get an estimate on how many times. �In the meantime, the UBC dungeon needs more checking, which I�m going to leave to you guys.�

�Oh�� Carlos frowns, looking about as everyone else nods, Sam looking sad as he picks up the pieces of his drones. I guess that last Skill destroyed his drones. �And you?�

�I�ve got a trip to plan.�

Chapter 6

As much as I�d love to get on Sabre and go, there are things I need to settle. Perhaps most importantly, I need to speak with the Guilds. The first meeting�a video call, aided by the System since we still don�t have our communication array up�is to Labashi.

�Major,� I say when he finally appears.

�Redeemer. I hope this call is good news,� Labashi says.

�It is. I�m willing to offer your Mercenary Company a base. It won�t be in Vancouver, but in Burnaby,� I say.

�Really. I do not believe that location is able to host our base,� Labashi says.

�Not yet. But the ownership requirements aren�t too far away. There�s a university where a dungeon is formed. We just cleared it; it�s easily doable. From what Ali says, we�ve got about three clears left before it dissipates,� I say. �We�re willing to let you purchase the land in its entirety.�

�Purchase?� Labashi says slowly, rubbing his chin.

It�s a much better offer than normal�most contracts are only set up to be leased for a specific number of years. It�s one of the important parts about the System now that we�re fully integrated�by keeping everything on a lease basis, the chances of a settlement being taken over is reduced. That we were able to purchase land outright during the set up period was one of the few advantages that we, being on Earth, had.

�That is reasonable. After all, we are putting the Credits down for it. And it is a significant amount of land.�

I snort, and Labashi flashes me a grin, knowing that his attempt at negotiation isn�t getting him anywhere. While he has a point that picking up all that land will help the city, it�s still not worth the permanent removal of the land from our control. With the initial probing done, we get down to the brass tacks and negotiating.

We�re working on broad strokes of course. Katherine, Lana, Kim, and the rest of them will get the details hammered down later. But at the end, we have an agreement of sorts.

Labashi nods, scanning the notification in front of him as he summarizes our long discussion. �Our headquarters will be in your university, this SFU. In return, we provide a permanent guard for the city and will, on attack of the Lower Mainland, deploy all available forces from our base. In addition, we will provide a company�s worth of help twice in assaults. Or an equivalent number of aid split across multiple assaults or defenses. These assaults or additional defenses will take no longer than a month in total of deployment. We do, of course, reserve the right to refuse such attacks as per our usual agreements.� Which, from what I recall, mostly amount to �we don�t do suicidal attacks.� �In return, we will have the land in perpetuity and two years� worth of rent waived.�

�And miscellaneous additions about training, resale of your equipment, and on-going use of your engineering division for upgrade,� I add. �But that�s for the eggheads.�

�Egg. Heads?� Labashi raises an eyebrow.

�Never mind. Human terminology. Don�t worry about it.�

�IT IS DEMEANING TO BE COMPARED TO A NASCENT ORGANIC LIFEFORM.�

�Sorry, Kim. Does it help that I�m technically an egghead?�

�NO.�

�Redeemer?� Labashi says as I have my quick side conversation.

�If we�re agreed, I�ve got another call,� I say, well aware of how expensive this entire conversation is.

�We will let the eggheads finish this agreement. In the meantime, I will begin the process of arranging our presence in your city,� Labashi says with a smile. �I look forward to working with you once again.�

�Thanks.� I watch Labashi fade away before I glance at Katherine. �Who�s next?�

�The Crystal Clans,� Katherine says with a smile. �Their representative is waiting.�

�Sorry, took longer than I expected.�

�It is fine. I arranged for a crafting station to be moved in.�

�Umm�� I consider then shrug. Ah hell, it worked, didn�t it? �Send them in.�

This negotiation, thankfully, is a lot simpler. The Crystal Clans are mostly an Artisan Guild, so beyond getting a small force added to the rotation for safeguarding the city of Kelowna, we just need to work out their rent, training, and the percentage discount for purchases from the settlement. They aren�t looking for anything special and we don�t need anything special�just help and a place that�s willing to farm out quests on a regular basis. With a transportation system in place and Kim handling the administration, we could even extend some of their quests to people in other settlements.

�Next,� I say to Katherine when the door closes.

�That, I believe, would be me,� a voice calls from the door.

I look up, blinking as I see a very pretty elf. Long blond hair is swept backward to uncover pointed ears, startlingly blue eyes, and an easy smile. Lean and thin, he lounges against the door in a relaxed manner. Boy next door charm crossed with male model looks.

�And who are you?� As if I couldn�t guess.

�Wynn a Maro. I represent the Burning Leaves,� Wynn says with a bow, smiling slightly. �I hope I�m not intruding by entering.�

�No.� I wave him forward. I could get grumpy about him coming in before we asked for it, but that kind of pettiness isn�t my thing. Anyway, I�ve got enough reasons to be grumpy with the Burning Leaves, including the use of an aura the last time round.

Wynn a Maro, Spider Slayer (Level 38 Fell Ranger)

HP: 2110/2110

MP: 2080/2080

Conditions: None

�That�s an Advanced Class, isn�t it?� I send to Ali.

�Yup. Be careful, boy-o. I don�t think he�s here to kill you, but he hasn�t talked to you yet.�

�Funny.�

�Good. Otherwise I�d have to get another present as an apology,� Wynn says as he walks forward then stops, a hand twitching as he pulls something from his inventory.

A moment later, he�s holding a simple, silver-looking box with a crest made of stylized glyphs I can�t read. The glyphs are closer to Egyptian hierographics than Arabic letters, which makes it all kinds of pretty and unintelligible. The sudden, indrawn breath from Ali, on the other hand, is quite interesting.

�What�s that?� I say, eyes narrow. Automatic manners have me standing up since he�s neared me, which also means I�m more mobile in case that case is something dangerous.

�An apology for my predecessor�s actions,� Wynn says, bowing his head slightly.

�Take it.�

I use both hands to take hold of the gift, flip it open with a thumb, and am surprised to see a simple chain necklace inside. On closer inspection, each ring on the chain seems to be inscribed with many of the same glyphs as the box. Frowning, I pick up the necklace and wait for Ali to provide me the information.

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

The Brumwell necklace of shadow intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions is more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.

Effect: Persistent effect of Shadow Intent (Level 4) results in significantly increased cost of purchasing information from the System about wearer. Effect is persistent for all actions taken while necklace is worn.

�Those things are rare. We�re talking tens of millions of Credits to purchase one, and this is a Level 4 enchantment. Not the rarest, but not cheap.�

�Thank you,� I say. Even if Wynn says this is a gift of apology, I know there are strings attached to such an expensive and overt gift. But like the elf�sorry, the Movana�probably knew, this is a gift I can�t turn down.

�Not at all. My predecessor�s actions were unaccountably rude. To use his abilities in a negotiation is not how our Guild would want this matter handled,� Wynn says.

�True. Why was he allowed to conduct such discussions anyway?� I ask.

�Ah. Politics. His family has certain pull in our Guild.�

�Har. And you?�

�I�m one too. But I�m competent,� Wynn says, eyes dancing with humor.

�Even so. This is an expensive gift,� I say as I close the box. As much as I want to put it on now, I can wait till I have it properly identified by the Shop. He might seem nice, but I won�t trust him off the bat just because he�s tall and pretty. Also, I�d like to see if I can get it altered so that I don�t have to wear a necklace. I hate having things around my neck. �Seems a little much for a Guild building in a small town.�

�How much do you know of my Guild?� Wynn asks instead of answering my unasked question.

�Not much.�

�Well then, perhaps I can be allowed to enlighten you a bit,� Wynn says whilst inclining his head toward the chairs.

I take the hint and sit down, gesturing for him to do so. Once we�re comfortably seated, he continues while Katherine goes to get us a fresh pot of tea.

�The Burning Leaves are a Tier II guild. While we accept most applications to join the Guild, we started and are mainly based in Movana territory. In fact, many of our members are closely related to members within the Movana royalty,� Wynn says.

�Good for you,� I mutter, still unsure what�s the point of this discussion.

�At the same time, your previous dealings and relationship with the Truinnar are known. Few have fought the Weapon Master and lived to tell the tale,� Wynn continues. �But it is in consideration of those matters that we are interested in yourself.�

�Like your stories, the Truinnar and Movana are differing portions of the same race, split when the groups left for the stars. The actual shade of skin of the Truinnar is due to a genetic modification to separate themselves from their cousins. Earth itself is in Truinnar space, which is the larger of the pair of empires,� Ali fills in for me.

�Let me get this straight. You gave me a really nice gift because you want to establish relations with me. Because you�re jealous of Roxley?� I frown. Such a line of reasoning seems just short of insane to me. Which is why I�m probably missing the point.

�Not jealousy. A maneuver to curtail Truinnar influence on this world. Your lands are the closest to the Duchess�s, which makes them strategically important. And then there�s you, Redeemer. Or is it Monster Bane? Or Duelist?� I frown again, and Wynn smiles. �Few have managed to gain so many titles without a higher Class. Even fewer are thrice-titled, especially in such a short timeframe.�

I grunt, shaking my head. A lot of my titles�Monster Bane and Duelist�are cheats. Since I was still progressing from one tier to the next, the System registered me as only having forty-three Levels, instead of what should be about double that. It means that those titles, while earned through blood, are nowhere as �true� as someone else�s. But I�m sure Wynn knows that, which makes his interest puzzling in a way.

�If you�re looking at hindering the Truinnar, won�t owning settlements be better?� I ask.

�Ugh, you�re embarrassing me, boy-o.�

�THERE ARE CURRENTLY TWENTY-THREE MOVANA SETTLEMENTS IN AFRICA, CENTERED AROUND EAST AFRICA. A MAP OF SUCH SETTLEMENTS HAS BEEN UPLOADED TO YOUR DATA FILES.�

�Well, the Guild is not part of the Kingdom,� Wynn says. �And as you know, we are not allowed to own settlements.�

�But you�re allowed to have Guild Buildings in other settlements,� I say slowly, realizing what he is alluding to. The Guild is as �independent� as a twenty-year-old who still lives at home and doesn�t pay rent to his parents. They�re still going to dictate a portion of his life, whether he likes it or not. So accepting the Guild into my settlements is a double-edged sword. It�ll piss off Roxley and the Truinnar, but potentially put me in the good graces of the Movanna. Or at the least, give them a direct and obvious way to spy on me. I tap the box after a second. �I take it your Guild didn�t pay for this then.�

�No.�

�Ah�� I sigh, tapping the gift. Then there are a lot more strings to this gift than I assumed. �Why tell me all this?�

�Because I feel it�s better to be clear about our objectives before we begin negotiation.�

�Don�t think it�d help your cause to hide it?�

�Not in the long run. And I�we�wish to ensure that this is a long-term relationship.�

I grunt, leaning back. Ah hell. For all the potential problems, they�re the only Tier II guild to make an offer, one that has significant enough reserves to make full use of our dungeon. We need them�their people, their Credits. If we can get a good deal�

�All right, talk.�

�Are you certain that Ms. Pearson and the AI will be sufficient for this negotiation?� Katherine says when we�ve shown Wynn out.

�Lana will be fine. They�ve got a framework of what we want in place.� In fact, I�ve mentioned to Lana that I�m willing to let them have both North Vancouver and Kamloops, if the price is right. �Who�s next?�

�Damian.�

�Show him in.� I sigh. This should be fun.

�You know, boy-o, you�ve gotten nearly as boring as my former Companion. And all he did was sit around reading all day.�

�Trust me, I�m not impressed either.�

Our mutual bitching about my life of meetings and talking comes to an end as Damian walks in. The ex-scavenger, ex-rebel, now bureaucrat leader like me seems slightly more harried than the last time I saw him. After a few quick greetings and pleasantries, we get down to business.

�My people are growing concerned about their safety. They�ve been having to deal with more and more monster attacks recently,� Damian says. �They�re also complaining about a significant drop in their income.�

�THOSE EARMARKED AS SCAVENGERS HAVE SEEN A TOTAL LOSS OF REVENUE OF 9% IN THE LAST MONTH WITH AN AVERAGE DECREASE OF 318.64 CREDITS PER INDIVIDUAL. THIS IS BASED OFF A DECREASE IN TRANSACTION VOLUME OF 2.81%.�

I stare at the notification, processing the data. �And what do you want from me?�

�More guards. We also want a timeline of when we can expect the other suburbs to be transformed into full-fledged towns.�

�Well�� I shake my head. I�m so not answering that one since I don�t have a good idea myself. �From the information I�ve got, it doesn�t look like it�s an issue of monsters or what you�re bringing back so much as a drop in your selling prices.� As Damian opens his mouth, I raise my hand. �Let me see if I have this right. Your men�sorry, people�are bringing in the same number of items, but demand�s fallen off. At the same time, they�ve had to go farther and farther out because nearby residences have all been hit.�

Damian shuts his mouth before nodding slightly.

�Right. Well, here�s the thing. You guys are either going to have accept it or change your occupation,� I say. �As more and more people Level and get Credits through their Skills and occupations, the demand for scavenged items is going to continue dropping. It won�t take long before inter-galactic tradeliners arrive, and then your market is really going to crash. Change now or change later, but you�re in a losing game.�

�Did you tell me and my people to suck it up and deal?� Damian�s eyes bulge, a little heat appearing in his voice.

�Yes,� I say, then consider. �What we can do is provide career counseling and advice. Purchasing the AI with the skills necessary to do the analysis isn�t that expensive. If we pick out a few buildings, we can spread the locations around the city.�

�Job retraining,� Damian says, disgust in his voice.

�Counseling. No one�s going to hold their hands,� I say, leaning forward. �Your people aren�t cowards, but they�ve gotten used to an easy way of life, of low risk and a decent amount of Credits. But things change, and they�re going to have to change.�

�And that�s it? That�s what you want me to go back to them with?� Damian says, anger thrumming through his voice.

�Yes. They can either change now and be ready for the future, or we can prop them up for a few months, maybe a year or two, and then have it all pulled out from under them. This world of Levels, it gives us a ton of options. But you have to be willing to take them.�

�So you want them to fight? Be like your Hakarta and Yerrick friends? Run your dungeon like everyone else?�

I sigh, shaking my head. �I don�t want anything from them. I�m just telling you how things are. They can decide to delve or change their Classes or hell, keep doing what they�re doing. It�s up to them. I�m just saying we�re not going to subsidize them or provide anything else.�

�This is unacceptable.�

�Okay,� I say, nodding. �Anything else?�

�We�re not done speaking about this yet!� Damian almost shouts, fist hammering into the table so hard he cracks it.

�Yes, we are. Now you can move on to another topic or you can leave.�

When Damian gets out a short while later, Katherine is giving me the stink-eye.

�Do you think I�m wrong?�

�In what you said? No. In how you said it? Definitely,� Katherine says.

�It was the truth. A necessary truth.�

�But you could have been kinder.�

A feeling of d�j� vu, a memory of a previous conversation. One between myself and my father, Katherine taking my place as I find myself echoing my father as he explained my lack of talent while I decried his tone.

�If I was kinder, he might refuse the truth of my words, holding himself to the tone rather than the intent. He can hate me, but at least he�ll have heard me.�

There�s something in her eyes when I say that, something I can�t understand. For a moment, I wonder if she knows why I said what I did, but then I dismiss the thought. Women can�t read minds�that�s just a fallacy.

�I�ll have Lana speak with him later then,� Katherine says instead.

I open my mouth to protest but decide against it. Having Lana soften the blow a little while reminding him of the truth is probably the best of both worlds. Good cop, bad cop at its best. �Who�s next?�

�We have the delvers.�

I groan, knowing what they want. I�m surprised they�re coming together, but at least their topic of conversation is known. They�ll want to discuss the Guild spot, their concerns about being pushed out, and of course, push for some benefits for themselves. It�s annoying, because the Guild could do us a ton of good, with quests and a ready market for our goods, but they�ll complain and bitch as if they don�t know all that just to get a little leeway. And even if I can push most of this to Lana and Kim as the negotiating parties, they still want to make sure I get my share of it too.

And sadly, I can�t tell them to bugger off. Because as much as it is politics, they might actually have a point somewhere in there that I haven�t thought of. Thankfully, today�s the last of my meeting days. After today, I�ll be mostly ready for my trip.

�Then let�s get this over with.�

�John,� Lana says softly after pulling away from the kiss the next morning.

�Mmmm�?� I say as I try to re-engage my brain. That was one heck of a goodbye kiss�

�Port me to Vancouver?� Lana says.

�Oh. Right.� I blink, waving to open the Portal.

The moment it does, Roland slips in, the only one to accompany us to Kamloops last night.

�And, John, stay safe,� Lana says, giving me one last hug before stepping away.

I watch her departing figure, sighing before shutting the inky blackness. �Now then, what next?�

�Mr. Lee!� a voice calls so loudly that it pierces the walls of the house we�re in.

When I turn, I blink and stare at KC through the living room windows, the Gunsmith struggling down the walkway with a pair of large metal boxes.

�KC.� I nod to the lady, glancing at the boxes as I open the front door.

�Ammo! I finally� ummm� worked through the� well, blueprints. Mostly have them in sold casings, but I, uh� well. I finished these two last night. Hollow points,� KC says, flushing under scrutiny and holding up the cases.

�Oh. Thank you!� I blink, taking them from her and storing them in my Altered Space. Before I can say anything further, KC�s pulling out even more cases from her inventory, dumping case after case on the ground. �How many did you make?�

�I, uhhh� lost track,� KC says ashamedly. �I was, ummm� Leveling so much that well��

�You got carried away,� I finish for her, and she nods. �Well, no matter. I�m sure I can use it. Did you get the rest� ah, I see they�re here.� I nod, staring at the various other boxes, each carefully labeled. Boxes of explosives, marked and stored, make their appearance. �Just send me the bill. I�ll get it paid now.�

KC bobs her head quickly, and a moment later, a small notification pops up. I don�t even bother looking at the details, just glancing at the final amount and sending the Credits over, letting Kim handle the inventory issues. While he (it? her?) won�t be useful once we leave the settlement, for small tasks like these, he�s even faster than Ali.

�INVENTORY IS MISSING TWO HIGH-EXPLOSIVE MINES AND CURRENTLY HAS ONE EXTRA WHITE PHOSPHOROUS INCIDINERARY GRENADE. ALSO, THERE IS A PACKAGE THAT IS LABELED TO YOU DIRECTLY. I HAVE ASSESSED THAT THERE IS A LOW THREAT RISK AND HAVE NOT INVESTIGATED ITS CONTENTS.�

�Let her know by notification. No biggies.�

�Thanks again. You and your people,� I say. �Anything I should know?�

�Ummm� no� We�ve had a few visits from Artisans from other cities�villages? Towns?�uhh��

�Cities is fine. I understand what you mean,�

�Right. Ummm� so, yes. They�ve been interested in� well, us� it�s been fun. One of the, umm� visitors was an� interior designer. Upped our efficiency by 1.6%!�

�That�s good.� I nod. �Nice speaking with you, KC.�

With one last nod, I pop open another Portal and step through. Time to get to work.

Since I can only open Portals to places I�ve visited�and only within a range of a 1,000 KM of me�I have a bit of a journey to make. While we debated having some of the team accompany me, between Sabre and my ability to Blink Step and open Portals, I should be relatively safe. Of course, I promised to drag my friends to me if things look dangerous and I was still in range, but none of us expect that. At least till Edmonton.

British Columbia during the height of summer is alternately beautiful sunshine and occasional days of rain. Up north where we�re going, the rainforest gives way to more desert-like terrain before changing again. Lucky for me, it�s mostly sunshine right now, which means traveling along the weather-beaten roads is satisfactory. It does make me wonder what we should do about upkeep�now that I own a bunch of settlements in the province, trade between settlements is slowly picking up. Outside of the main towns, I�ve avoided taking control of settlements unless it�s been requested, just because I don�t want the additional responsibility. Surprisingly, that�s happened more than once, especially since we have started regular patrols. As much as I might not want to be the local government, we seem to be falling into that role more and more.

Right now, between the lack of on-going transportation and the monster problems, trade caravans are done in an unscheduled, slipshod matter. And while the nitpicky part of me wants to get involved, the lazy part of me points out that this is what the capitalist economy is meant for. Let someone else who wants to earn the Credits organize things.

However, the roads are my problem. That�s what the government is for, after all�dealing with resources and projects that make no sense for an individual to undertake. That�s why we had governments in the first place�from the mayor of a village, who decided who and when people got to use the common grounds for breeding, to the United Nations, which had helped reduce world hunger and diseases. Still, like any government, I�ll admit, that last part is a bit shaky since the UN isn�t really a government technically, but whatever. The point is, we organise because we need to.

Unfortunately, I have to contend with that most limiting of factors�scarce resources. Putting Credits and manpower into building the roads and warding them meant I couldn�t buy land in the Villages. Focus on upgrading individual Villages and I�d miss the opportunity of upgrading Vancouver from Town to Large Town. Not purchasing specialized buildings means we aren�t taking advantage or encouraging specific economies. In Whitehorse, the introduction of the Arborator had provided employment and Credits for a ton of people, increasing our efficiency further. Could I afford to shift our focus from things like that to work on something like roads? Then again, could I neglect trade?

Thoughts like this carry me from Grand Prairie to Edmonton. I could have gone north and east from Kamloops, but that would have put me through a provincial park. And those, from experience, are a tough row to hoe. Not that I shouldn�t visit one, but right now, speed is more important than Levels.

Still, for all my desire for speed, I make the time to pop open Portals for those who need it. Small towns. Individuals unlucky enough to be caught in the middle of nowhere and yet lucky enough to still be alive. Groups of survivors swept up and thrown back into civilization. I have to admit, there�s a certain satisfaction in helping them all, even if it slows me down.

In time, forests and rolling hills�and a few mountains�give way to flat prairies. The sky opens up, making me both relax from the ease of picking out dangers and tense from being so exposed. No more mountains, no more shade, just the eye in the sky and the rolling plains that were once part of some farmer�s land. By the time I hit the prairies proper, the number of individuals I find diminishes to nothing, the survivors most likely having made their way to Edmonton.

Like most prairie cities, Edmonton doesn�t really �start� with a fixed boundary; you just find yourself rolling in where more and more buildings make themselves known. Abandoned, discarded, broken down, and bloody, residences and strip malls merge into office buildings. And then there�s a wall made of grey concrete and cinder blocks, built by Skill and Credits. And towers that host beam turrets and, perhaps most startling of all, a single man waiting for me.

�Howdy, stranger,� the man calls, cowboy hat, plaid shirt, and cowboy boots set against a pair of guns slung low on his hips and a shotgun cradled in his arms. �That�s about far enough.�

�Howdy? Goblin�s arse. I didn�t get any tobacco!� Ali chimes in, shifting his clothing to mock the stranger.

I�m too busy to answer the Spirit though, as I study the man before me.

Blair Kendall, the Rock of Edmonton (Level 28 Battle Seer)

HP: 3680/3680

MP: 2110/2110

Conditions: None

Holy shit. That�s an Advanced Level. He literally has the highest Level I�ve seen on a human. While he isn�t the highest Level human on Earth�I checked, and there�s some cheat Level character at Advanced 38�he�s the highest in Canada as far as I know. And probably explains why Edmonton has managed to stay independent.

�Afternoon,� I say while getting off Sabre slowly. I keep my hands well in sight, not wanting him to get any ideas.

�Nice ride there. Mind telling us why you�re visiting this little town of ours? Don�t get many strangers these days,� Blair says, a hand coming up to absently rub at a close-cut, curly beard.

�Passing through. Maybe a little scouting. Maybe a little chat with the people in charge.�

�Really. You�re pretty well stocked and armed for someone just passing through. Redeemer of the Dead,� Blair says.

I sigh. I really, really, hate that title sometimes. �Well, colour me surprised to have the Rock of Edmonton greet me. Now, if we�re done measuring each other, perhaps you can show me where an inn or empty residence is? Preferably one with a working hot shower? Cleanse spells work, but well, I�ve been on the road for a bit now.�

�We aren�t done,� Blair says. �I�m not letting a potential threat into my city.�

�Your city?� I raise an eyebrow, mentally prodding Ali.

�Can�t tell, boy-o. You can infer ownership, but you can�t actually tell. It�s one of the rules instituted by the Council in� blah blah blah year after owners kept getting assassinated. You can buy the events around a transfer, but they don�t show up on Status screens anymore.�

Ah. That�s useful. For me. Somewhat. Maybe.

�Fine. What do you want from me?�

Quest Received�Clear the Plains

A new plains dungeon has appeared near the city of Edmonton. You have been tasked with clearing the dungeon and destroying the Boss. Doing so will gain the favor of the Rock of Edmonton.

Reward: Entry to the town of Edmonton

Accept (Y/N)

�Really?� I grumble, staring at the quest information and the resulting marker.

�Yes.� Without another word, Blair walks back through the open gates, which shut behind him. Someone has the flair for the dramatic.

�Scout ahead, will you? Let�s get this garbage done.�

Nice thing about having access to an entire armory�s worth of explosives is that when you�re feeling particularly lazy, it�s a simple enough matter to overuse them. Since all the explosives were made by individual crafters, all of them are System-registered. With the help of my drones and a liberal application of explosives, clearing the dungeon doesn�t even require me to crawl through the tunnels.

I do wonder how he would have expected me to handle this if I hadn�t had my drones. After all, the tunnels themselves were barely larger than a man�s torso in most points. At times, they were significantly smaller. The only regret I have�and it�s a mild regret�is that I won�t get any Loot from all this. Even with the sheer volume of explosives, I could have looted the scattered remains if I had been willing to crawl in.

As it stands, the only loot I received were the hides of the dungeon Boss and his minions when they swarmed up and out of the earth at my continued provocations. Sitting at just above Level 30, the dungeon Boss didn�t take much to deal with, though his trick of sinking me halfway into the earth was interesting. Having an evolved gopher with shark teeth trying to eat my face from inches away was a new and unpleasant experience. It said something about my life that that didn�t even make it into the top hundred nightmares.

When I get the quest update notification, I make my way to the town as fast as I can. Maybe I should research a lava flow or napalm spell, something I could use to flood passageways next time.

The Rock of Edmonton is waiting for me again when I roll up to the wall as twilight falls.

�All done then, are we?� Blair drawls.

�Yes. Now can I go in for a bath?�

�Follow me,� Blair says, leading the way into the city. Within the city, a horse waits for him, which he straddles with practiced ease.

�Really?� I say, shaking my head. �A bit on the nose, isn�t it?�

�How did you get around, right after the change?� Blair says caustically.

I think back to my mad scramble down the mountain and shut up. Horses are practical and fast and this one at least looks as though its achieved some form of symbiosis with the System. Or else it�s just naturally a really pretty horse. I�ll admit, I�ve become inured to big animals after hanging out with Lana.

You have entered the Town of Edmonton

This is a safe zone. Contains:

A Shop

City Center

Armory

Adventurer�s Guild

More�

�You have a Guild already?� I say, an eyebrow rising. That was fast. I mean, sure, Carcross had one before Whitehorse, but I�m still surprised they�ve achieved so much so fast.

All around us, the buildings slowly transform, growing higher as we make our way downtown on PAV and horse.

�Yup. They�ve been real helpful, they have,� Blair drawls. �I hear you just struck a deal with a crafter group for one of your settlements.�

�My�� My eyes tighten before I snort. �You were using the time the quest bought you to look me up.�

�I thought that necklace made things harder for people to buy information on me?� I ask Ali.

�For previous actions. And it doesn�t count if the Guild puts out a press release.�

�They did what!?!�

�Recruiting material, boy-o.� I can hear the exasperation in Ali�s mental voice.

�Seemed fair. There�s quite a bit of information out there on you, for cheap, Redeemer. At least until a few months ago. Then, the information gets a lot more expensive. Be curious to hear how you did that.�

�Har.� I shake my head, somewhat embarrassed at being called out on it directly. It�s not a time that I like to think about directly. Still, of all my titles, that one I earned fair and square, doing something few would have done. Not during the aftermath of an apocalypse at least. It�s a strange title, I�ll admit, and I�m still uncertain why the System gave it to me. Not the why of the action, but the greater why of how it chose. �Looks like you owe me a story then. Rock.�

�Not much to tell, not to someone like you. It came to me probably the same way you earned your other titles,� Blair says. �In blood and tears, in front of a smoking gun, over the corpses of friends and foes alike.�

�Where we going? And are you going to let anyone else speak to me?� I say, having yet to see a single person since the gate guards.

�Not yet,� Blair says with a matter-of-fact honesty. �You�ll be staying with me until I decide you�re safe enough. Hard to trust people like you.�

I would say something about his confidence in dealing with me alone, but I knew that ever since the gate, we�d been shadowed by four individuals, all of them with Advanced Classes. Not as high as Blair, but considering Edmonton must have a finite number of Advanced Classers, I was rather flattered. Hell, even Vancouver didn�t have that many�though that was as much the Sect�s fault as anything.

A few more gambits at drawing a conversation out of Blair gets me nowhere, so I give up and content myself to being led to his house. When we arrive, I�m somehow not surprised to find that it�s a modest duplex. I am surprised by how slovenly the place is�while it�s clean, clothing and other bric-a-brac are strewn about everywhere.

�Bathroom�s upstairs, around the corner at the end of the hallway.�

I grunt in acknowledgement before heading up, sending Ali to keep an eye on Sabre. Soon enough, I�m downstairs again, greeted by a carnivore�s dream of a meal. Conversation at dinner is nearly non-existent, consisting of a lot of gurgled beer, moans of pleasure, and chewing. Without the ladies around, I find myself returning to my more slovenly eating habits, including licking my fingers with gusto. When we�re done, feet up and beers in hand, we get around to the real talk.

�You�re here to set up that Portal of yours, aren�t you?�

�Setting some waypoints, yes,� I say, clarifying matters a little. �Also to make sure you guys are doing okay. We�re in the midst of improving our own towns, and part of that is figuring out what kind of friends we might have.�

�And you think we�re friends?� Blair sips his beer, tilting his head to the side as he looks at me. Without his hat, he looks much less like a caricature and more like a very tired man.

�I think we could be.�

�Even if you�re in a state of war?�

�And you kicking out the Grey Company was all kinds of amiable? Way I read it, your fight was a close thing,� I say. �And you�ve got a lot fewer people now.�

�Not much for mincing words, are you? Thought you people were all kinds of polite.�

�If your town council wanted a diplomatic response, they wouldn�t have sent you,� I point out. Even if my Chinese origins are mostly gone physically after the gene therapy, he knows my background. And that you people was a damn dig if I had ever heard one. Strangely enough, I find myself not that angry � getting another redneck being casually racist was so far beneath my list of worries, it wouldn�t show up even in a thousand years. �And just as an FYI, I grew up in Vancouver.�

�Not Richmond? Hear it�s a little Asia there.�

�Not anymore.�

�Ah�� The not-so-subtle reminder of the apocalypse shuts him down. �We aren�t ready to cozy up to you, but we�re willing to talk.�

I grunt, leaning back and nodding. �Fair enough. But I�m only planning to be here for a few days. After that, well, I�ve got a city to visit.�

�Calgary.�

�Yes.�

Silence descends while we savor the beer and our slowly settling stomachs.

In time, Blair tilts his head, his voice a relaxed drawl. �Might be there are a few interested in helping out. Unofficial-like.�

�We�ll take any help we can. Unofficial-like.�

Silence returns, and this time, it doesn�t leave. I find myself relaxing, content to just sit, knowing there�s nothing more for me to do. Tomorrow, I�ll be talking to politicians and bureaucrats, finding out about the city and trying to put a good face on things. But today� well, today, I get to sit in silence and that�s fine enough with me. Blair might be tough, but he�s a bit of a racist dick.

Chapter 7

�Sure you won�t stay a little longer? I figure you almost have them,� Blair drawls, leaning over the saddle horn of his horse as I straddle Sabre.

It�s been three days since I�ve arrived in Edmonton, and while I�m still restricted in where I�m allowed to go, I�ve made some progress. It probably helped that we got hit by a swarm on the second day. The display of controlled violence I put on was particularly well received. But still�

�People are weird,� I say, shaking my head. �And I�m on a timetable.�

Blair snorts but nods agreeably. A moment later, a five-foot, two-seventy-something man rides up on his bicycle, a rifle slung over his shoulder, a bicycle helmet on his head.

�Rufus,� I greet the man, who flashes me a grin.

�He�ll get you as deep as he safely can. But the rest is up to you,� Blair says, rubbing his chin. �I still ain�t sure about this plan��

�Good thing it�s not up to you then.� I flash Blair a grin.

He shakes his head and waves us off.

The journey south from Edmonton is simple enough to handle, especially with a Messenger as my guide. I find it slightly amusing when Rufus explains that he used to be a postal worker, which resulted in him receiving the Class. Thank god I didn�t get a class called �Website Designer� or I�d really be screwed.

Rufus does his job well, leading me to Calgary with nary a problem that can�t be solved with a liberal application of violence. From there, he guides me to the current headquarters of the humans in the city�an abandoned furniture warehouse. Since I have his company, we get through their security checkpoints with a minimum of trouble, which is nice, since I played that game already in Edmonton.

That�s the thing I should have realized�Edmonton and Calgary have been working together for the last little while. It�s a partial explanation of why both parties have managed to hold out as long as they have�in fact, Edmonton�s state is partly due to the sacrifice of a number of Calgarians according to Rufus.

�Yo, this is John Lee. He�s from BC and just bounced from Edmonton, where he stayed with Blair. Blair says, and I quote, he�s �an okay sort for a slit-eyed fucker,�� Rufus says, looking somewhat uncomfortable saying those words. Truth be told, I�m not sure if it�s the swearing or the racial slur.

On the other hand, at least the introduction has the trio in the command room give me somewhat favorable nods. One is a First Nations man in his fifties with close-cropped hair and wearing Adventurer chic�an armored jumpsuit and holsters for pistols and knives. The second is a twenty-something weedy man who looks as if he needs a meal or three and a pair of glasses to go with his shirt and pants ensemble. The last is a Nordic blonde of the older persuasion. Her extremely tight blouse, artfully undone one button too much across an ample bosom, screams cougar. It doesn�t help that she certainly has the Charisma for it. Committed as I am to Lana, I can�t help but check her out.

�Mr. Lee, you�re from Vancouver then?� Trevor Badger, the First Nations elder, says after we exchange quick greetings.

�Among other settlements, yes.� I nod to him, a part of me wondering which tribe he�s a part of. After a moment, I dismiss that thought as unimportant to our current situation. Anyway, it�s not as if I�d remember a fact like that. I�d be lucky to remember any of their names by the end of this meeting, if not for Ali and the Status screens.

�Are you here to lend us help?� Donna Luff murmurs. I have to admit, her �Rachel� haircut suits her, but the way she�s smiling has my guard up. That and her occupation of Lawyer. Having dealt with Labashi, I�m not a fan of the Contract Skill she most likely has.

�Pretty much. Sorry it took so long. We�ve had our own things to handle,� I say, grabbing a seat without asking. �Now, I�ve got some ideas, but perhaps you�d care to fill me in. It�s been a little over a week and a half since I�ve had access to a Shop.�

�You didn�t�� Donna says, trailing off since the answer was obvious. No, Edmonton didn�t give me access to their Shops. All of them were connected to City Cores. �Well, we can certainly fix that. But maybe, Charles?�

Charles grunts, leaning forward, his voice as weedy and thin as him. �Well, I can give a wide overview, but of course details will take more time. Here�s where we are��

Calgary has a total of three City Cores, areas that demarcate the portions of the city and give control of the city itself. Unlike Vancouver or Seattle, which spread its population across numerous adjoining cities, Calgary concentrated most of its population in its main city area. That means they have significantly fewer City Cores to deal with. Initially, humanity had all three Cores under their somewhat fractured control, but with the coming of the aliens, they lost two of the Cores at the cost of quite a few people.

The Kingdom of Peswin currently control a City Core in the southwest of Calgary, beneath the bow river, while the Uvrik are east of the river and humanity has the northwest. Of the three, the Uvrik corporation is in the most tenuous position, having to deal with the brunt of the fighting with humanity, while the halflings sit back and watch from the sidelines.

Those are the basics. The rest is a rundown on the kind of problems the Calgarians are facing. The Peswin currently had the lowest number of Advanced Classes in the city�about twenty or so, all low-Leveled�but had a much larger number of Basic Combat Classers. Uvrik went the other direction, having eleven very high Level Advanced Classers, about a hundred ten Basic Combat Classers, and a very, very large army of drones.

Most importantly for my plans, I got some information about our enemies� current defenses. While everyone had settlement shields set up to stop simple probes, everyone conducted on-going attacks, which meant those shields dropped constantly. Unfortunately, that means that everyone has put a decent amount of funds into upgraded sensors. Still, for all that, everyone was on-board with the first part of my plan. Sneaking in and getting the lay of the land, especially with my ability, was uncontestably a good idea.

It was part two that got them riled up.

�You want to what?� Charles shouts, his reedy voice almost breaking as he squeaks his outrage.

�Talk to them,� I say. �Negotiate an alliance. Preferably with both but at least one.�

�Are you insane?�

�No. There�re either eleven really high Level Advanced Classers or twenty low Level Advanced Classers of the combat persuasion we have to fight. That�d be doable individually, but what happens if the other side hits us right after the fight?� I say.

�We know. Why do you think we�re holding off?� Donna says.

�That�s what we expect you and your men to help us on,� Trevor says pointedly. �Or are you just talk?�

�I can bring a bunch of fighters, enough that we�ll have a decent advantage and most likely won�t lose too many in a single fight. But not many doesn�t mean no one. I�m tired of digging graves and cremating bodies. Aren�t you?� When no one replies, I continue. �If we can find some common ground, maybe make an alliance, why don�t we?�

�Because they�ve killed our people!�

�It�s our land,� Trevor says.

�And how�d that argument work for you guys?� I say pointedly. When I see Trevor bristle, I hold up a hand, my brain catching up with my words. �Sorry. Too far. But getting an ally from another power is a winning strategy, if I recall my Canadian history.�

Trevor grunts, obviously still unhappy. I wonder if offering him a chocolate will help.

�What makes you think they�ll talk to us?� Donna says when the silence gets uncomfortable, leaning forward and giving me an eyeful.

�I don�t. But if we don�t try, we won�t know.�

�And if they try to kill us?�

�Then we�ll have their answer,� I say with a slight smile. �But I figure we could write up a contract to get a diplomatic talk going.�

Donna makes a face, while Charles gets ready to raise another point of contention. I sigh, settling in to continue the argument. We need allies not just for this fight but for all the upcoming fights. We can�t keep pissing off the entire Galactic System. I just hope that we aren�t embroiling ourselves too much into Galactic politics by creating these alliances.

Convincing them took hours, but eventually I received an agreement�after promising to scout out their lands and get moving on preparations for a knock-down, drag-out fight. I�m less than enthused by the idea of that, but between the help we can get from Seattle and BC, we should be able to win. We might even be able to do so without losing too many people, even if we get attacked by both sides. Thankfully, neither group in Calgary seem to be into the entire slavery or random torture business, which means we only have to overcome the basic prejudices and hurt feelings from fighting a constant skirmish for the last few months. Only.

I wish I could say scouting is more difficult, but the fact is, slipping in and causing havoc is just the kind of thing the groups have been doing for the last few months. Joining a skirmishing group when the shields fall is a simple matter, and after that, I limit my attacks. Mostly though, the group of us just run around, making sure I get as much land under my feet as possible.

The next day, we head straight into the Uvrik�s territory for a repeat. Unfortunately, a few hours in, we get caught.

The Uvrik have a somewhat different method of dealing with intruders. Their flying drones blanket the sky, dozens of them swooshing over our heads as they triangulate on our position. Much like Sam�s smaller drones, none of these do much damage individually, but together, they could easily become a problem. More importantly, these ones are focused on slowing us down, hitting us with oil slicks, insta-concrete canisters, and foam barriers. Area effect spells like Lightning Strike and Fireball sweep the skies, but they just keep coming.

�Move, we can�t keep staying here,� Iris, the titular leader of our group, screams.

The African Canadian woman matches actions to words even as she looses an arrow at a coming swarm. The arrow shimmers, becoming a dozen. Each ignites and accelerates into the sky, tearing apart the drones. The rest of us are right on her heels.

As we turn the corner of the next block, the four of us find ourselves faced by a wall of steel. Squat robots have shields held in front of their bodies, and the barrels of their beam weapons sticking out gleam in the summer sky, moments before they fire. The portable shield generator around my waist flares white, soaking up the damage as it teeters on the edge of failing.

�Shit!� A thin, young man ducks away as the ends of his long hair catch on fire. The ends burn away as he ducks and rolls. �You assholes! That cost me a hundred Credits to get fixed!�

�Told you you should have gotten the nanoweave!� his friend, Louise, cackles as she stands in the middle of the road, beams aimed at her seeming to bend as they near her form. The twisted flares of light strike the ground, buildings, and drones as she Warps Space.

I admit, I have to grin. It�s time for me to test out a few new spells I purchased just before we left. While I�m not earning as much these days�not having that much time to go hunting has put a crimp on my looting and experience gain�I can give myself a salary as the settlement owner. I�m not particularly clear about the formula used�it has something to do with the type of government, the on-going revenue generation, tax base and tax rate amount and duration�but it�s enough to replenish my empty wallet. It�s a pity I can�t use the settlement funds directly for myself, but if I could, royalty and other settlement owners would be truly broken.

�My turn,� I whisper to myself and raise my hand. A molten bar of fire shoots from my hand, melting the steel and punching into the robot behind the shield. I swing my hand sideways, lopping the creature and its neighbor in half before the attack fades. Even as the after-images of my strike fade, I dodge aside.

�What was that?� Iris pants as she draws a breath, her own attack punching a hole in a robot next to the ones I attacked.

Ali tosses her a description, since he has little to do in this fight, his orders being to stay hidden and undetectable.

Inferno Beam

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and liquefy earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 150 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 125 Mana

�Move,� I snap without thinking, dodging forward and sweeping my hands sideways as my next spell forms. Mud Walls rise from the ground, stretching to the sky before sweeping forward in a V formation, pushing and submerging the attacking robots as the walls create a pathway for us.

Mud Walls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls deals slow, suffocating damage and restricts movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Reacting to the tone of my voice, the group charges alongside me. Mana Darts form in my hand to attack more mini drones that block our way. I keep the pace down, making sure the team can catch up, spinning around after a hundred meters to lash out with another Inferno Beam as some of the robots get out of the mud.

�Mana consumption, boy-o. Remember, we don�t want to look too powerful,� Ali reminds me.

I grunt, pulling the beam rifle from my shoulder. With the team caught up, we get back to running, arrows, projectiles, and spells blowing away any obstructions as we try to get back to �our� part of town.

Luckily for us, our situation has been transmitted to the other teams, and after another couple of minutes of running away, we receive an order over the tactical net.

�Drop and roll in 3. 2. 1. Now!�

Some of my new friends do exactly as the voice commands, but Louise and I take the liberty to interpret the orders, hitting the ground in a long slide. We�re both angling to see what�s coming, and the extra effort�and a few road burns�is worth the effort. Prepared spells lash out, beams of purple, green, and yellow light that cut through drones are mixed with tiny homing missiles and the deep and continuous boom of a minigun. In seconds, the air behind us is clear of drones, the last lucky few pulling back to stem losses.

I grunt, standing, road rash mostly faded away as my System-assisted healing kicks in. It�s weird that I even got it, considering how much health I have, but I�ve noticed that the System likes to make us hurt. Higher health doesn�t mean an inability to take damage�just less. A lot less. Staring at the remnants of my armored jumpsuit, I sigh, making mental note to pick up a few more sets when we get back. Sometimes, I feel like these armor sets are like what pantyhose must have been for women�better to buy cheap and disposable than expensive and nice. Because you never know when the next damn thing is going to leave a tear in it.

We run back to the safety of our lines. It doesn�t take long now that we don�t have to worry about fighting through masses of drones. A part of me wonders how much all that cost the Uvrik, but I decide against asking. I�m not sure if I�d laugh or cry at the answer.

�You�re wanted,� Iris says once we�ve made it safely back.

I nod, turning to head to see the council members. That�s the only people they could mean.

�And John? I run the team.�

My step hitches slightly from a flare of anger, but I push it down. She�s right�I might have been a fraction of a second faster, but it didn�t matter. Not at that point. I should have let her give the command rather than do it myself. Having multiple leaders could cause trouble. I wave goodbye in acknowledgement before I leave, Sabre finding me soon after.

�Did you get far enough?� Trevor asks when I walk in.

I�d be annoyed at his abruptness, but it�s not like I knocked when I entered. �Good enough for government work.� I pause, struck by a thought. �We�re the actual government now, aren�t we? Crap.�

Donna snorts before she taps a projected holographic image. Ali floats over, waving his hand over the image and updating it with our path, a red line charting our progress through the city.

�Now, we ready to chat?� I ask when I realize the three, perched over the map, won�t be saying anything soon.

�We�ve made the requests,� Donna says. �We�ve yet to hear from them.�

I frown, considering if they�re telling the truth. In the end, I decide not to question them. Better to believe in them than not. �Anything you need from me?�

�The Kingdom�s been putting some pressure on us here,� Trevor says, pointing at a portion of the map. �They didn�t like us picking up those buildings. Our men could use some help, especially with that sensing Skill of yours.�

I grunt, nodding. While I�m still limited�as is Ali�by my Levels to pick up anything truly Skilled, that doesn�t mean we can�t be of help. Our very presence along that line will force the Kingdom to deploy more stealth-oriented teams, reducing the pressure those teams can bring elsewhere along the border. And since I�ve got nothing better to do, I head off. The only pity is that I�m limited in how much experience I can gain since killing too many of their people before we engage in �peace� talks is probably a bad idea.

Two days later, we get our first meeting. You�d think the Uvrik corporation would get on it faster, but hey, who cares about thousands of Credits destroyed, a little blood spilled, and a few worthless lives lost? It�s all part of the balance sheet of taking over a city, isn�t it?

I�m pacing in a circle, waiting for word of how the meeting went. It�s been hours since my presence was restricted to this room near the rest of the Council members. Within it are members of the fast-acting reserve team we�ve designed, ready to act if things go to hell. Most of them are lounging, reading, playing with weapons.

Hours of pacing, chewing on chocolates, and occasionally attempting to read. It�s frustrating, being stuck back here and waiting, but having me there would give away too many of our cards. I could calm myself, instill control over my emotions, suppress them so I can do something �productive,� but sometimes, it�s important to actually feel what you�re feeling, to deal with your emotions rather than suppress them. Or so I�m told.

When I�m finally called into the meeting room, I find Donna with the pair of aides who went along with her, all three relaxing over a big bottle of apocalypse ale.

�John,� Trevor greets me, his greeting followed soon after by everyone else�s.

�So?� I ask.

�They�re willing to talk. But they want you there for the next meeting,� Donna says. I blink, raising an eyebrow before she shrugs. �No, I don�t know how they figured you were in town.�

�Do you think the Kingdom�?� I ask, frowning.

�They still haven�t answered any of our missives,� Charles says, shaking his head.

�What do they want with me?� I frown, not understanding the request for my presence. I�m just a helper here, an over-powered troop carrier.

�The Manager I was speaking to didn�t know. Or wouldn�t say,� Donna says before looking at the other two. �But they�ve signed a Contract binding their corporation to a ceasefire to take effect in twenty-four hours. And guaranteeing us safe passage to meet with them. In their headquarters.�

�With me?� I say, my eyes wide. That�s insane. They can�t not know of my ability if they made that call. Unless they�re planning a double-cross. Which might make some sense. Crap.

�It�s a trap!Maybe.�

Trevor leans forward. �We have to do this. Even if it�s nothing more than to get John in��

�They can block my Skills,� I say, holding up a hand. There are Skills, Settlement Upgrades, and even spells that can block my Portal Skill. While doing it for the entire town is expensive, for a single headquarters? That�s more than reasonable. Hell, I did it for each of the City Cores under my control.

�Still, that close��

�And if they betray us?� Charles says, shaking his head. �No. Not at their headquarters. It�s too dangerous.�

Trevor turns to Charles, beginning a loud argument about strategic necessity. All the while, I stare at Donna, who�s spinning the empty beer bottle in a circle.

�What do you think?� I ask her softly.

�I think we should go,� Donna says. �You were right.�

�I like hearing that, but about what?�

�They�re willing to talk. Almost eager.� After a moment, Donna raises her voice. �We�re going.�

That leads to another round of arguments, but it�s good enough for me. I leave it to the trio, slipping out of the room. Guarantee or not, I�ve got preparations to make.

Our initial meeting place is in a small park, just next to a pair of residential apartments and some office buildings, nearly right between the shifting borders of our settlements. Theoretically, these borders were fixed in the settlement screens and maps, but in wars and battles, locations that are tactically and strategically sound to hold don�t hold to the vagaries of the System. Even with settlement shields that regenerate, having an irritating burr of an enemy team can make a huge difference. And so here we are, standing among summer green grass, overgrown and unkempt with last fall�s withered leaves because no one has time to care for such trivialities, waiting.

�What makes you think they won�t just kill us?� Donna says again, looking around as she sweeps a hand through her hair. Nanowoven, color-shifted to a dirty blond that suits her slim, carefully dressed business-formal figure. Even now, she�s chosen something somewhat impractical�a tightly woven suit to show off her figure, combined with dark blue high heels.

�Well, we did get a Contract. And you�ve got a pair of shields on you. You should be fine,� I say, shaking my head. �I�m still curious why it�s you and not anyone else.�

�Why the woman?�

�Why the Lawyer?�

�Ah, because of my Skills. Contract, Detect Motive, Detect Truth, Confidentiality Agreement, Binding Oath,� Donna chants. �All potentially of use in a discussion like this.�

�Way I understand the way these things go, there�s rarely an agreement on the first meeting,� I counter.

She bobs her head. �True. But this is the second one. And I did volunteer.�

�Oh?� I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

�I can assess usefulness as much as anyone. Charles is needed for the planning, administration, and running. He also has the greatest support from the Artisans,� she stumbles a little at the last word, unused to the term I�ve introduced. �And Trevor manages our defense. I fill the gaps. This. This is a gap.�

�I�d hope we are more than that,� a voice calls out before I can answer her. The voice is low and growly, holding a trembling timbre that a human voice might get after a twenty-pack-a-day habit. The speaker is just as much a surprise�a humanoid-looking foxhound walking on two feet toward us in a single-breasted tunic that extends to his knees in gold and brown.

Stafin (Level 34 Adjunct)

HP: 270/270

MP: 1080/1080

Condition: None

�Stafin,� I say, inclining my head, at the same time sending a thought to Ali while Donna makes her own introduction. �A single name?�

�Common among his people for commoners. They get another name for each notable clan that accepts them into their inner pack, or if they do something worthy among his people,� Ali explains.

�I have been requested to guide you forthwith. If you will�� Stafin gestures, big, soulful eyes fixed on us.

We glance at one another then nod, walking forward. After much discussion, we�ve kept our party small. If they do attack us, keeping Donna alive will be hard enough, never mind anyone else.

As we head deeper, I take the time to study the changes the Uvrik corporation has made to their side of the city. While their drones cluster around us, none of them seem particularly aggressive, most docked in the numerous charging stations added to buildings. In addition, I note that a number of the buildings have widened windows, glass removed and allowing the ever-present winds to blow through. Though I do note the slightest shimmer in front of those windows, which speaks of a secondary environmental shielding system to keep out rain and debris.

�Uvrik corp�are they all shifters like Stafin?� I ask Ali, realizing I never did check. Never really thought about it, since the fighters we deal with are, as usual, a wide-ranging mixture of Galactic races. And shifters are part of our culture, so they�re likely sources of bad Mana translation too.

�They aren�t shifters. They only have one form�and not all of them have the same form. The people you�ve been fighting, most of them are from the same planet. The Uvrik originate from the planet of Izu, where genetic modification is the norm. They�ve been mixing and matching genes, altering their base code such that if it wasn�t for the System, they probably couldn�t even reproduce normally,� Ali says, shaking his head. �That�s why they�ve got so many different forms.�

�Weird. What�s with the lack of glass?�

While I hold my mental conversation, Donna is engaging Stafin in a war of words, fishing for knowledge. It�s not a bad try, and listening to the pair verbally spar, I realize how damn far behind I am in some areas. But hey, I can punch out an elephant these days, so we all have our strengths.

�They�ve got all the enhanced senses and enhanced musculature that extensive gene alterations give you. Without the glass, they get to smell and hear more, giving them better awareness through the city.�

I can see that. Lana, for example, has extended senses over and above what an increase in Perception would offer. I�ve more than once noted her using those senses to spot monsters or unexpected guests early, saving us from injury or embarrassment in equal measure. Having no fixed address might seem free and easy and fun, but it also means that we catch our private time when we can.

�So how come you decided to chat with us? Thus far, the Kingdom has been a little on the slow side,� I ask in a break during the conversation between Donna and Stafin. My bluntness gets a look from Donna, but she keeps quiet.

�They will not answer,� Stafin says, shaking his head.

�Oh�?� Donna steps in, arching an eyebrow.

I�m sure she�s wondering, like me, why he�d feed us such valuable information. Or perhaps it�s a lie, but if so, it�s a stupid lie. Then again, if he�s right, it�s possible that that information doesn�t have any real value since we�ll learn of it soon enough.

�We attempted to speak with them concerning the city when they first arrived,� Stafin says.

�And you didn�t try to talk to us?� Donna says softly, though I can tell there�s a bit of an edge to it.

�At that time, the consensus was that it was unnecessary,� Stafin says, tilting his head toward me. �The appearance of the Redeemer in the last few days has altered the strategic environment.�

Well, that partly explains things. Not that we hadn�t figured it was something like that. Or that they�ll probably want to end up negotiating some form of access to my settlements. If they�re playing fair. On the other hand, it�s possible they�ve got other considerations. Thoughts about the potential reasons why I�m coming along and what our negotiation options are in light of this information keep me occupied till we�re led onto the roof of a parking garage.

What used to be a parking lot has been partly enclosed with force shields, all the vehicles removed, and the grey concrete cleared and replaced with white marble. What used to be dark and dingy sparkles with mana-imbued lighting that provides an open-air feeling. Only a few things�like the entrances and the sloping ramps�give a hint of what the building used to be used for.

The entirety of the roof of the parking lot has been transformed into an open air meeting area with green grass, small shrubbery, and comfortable lounging chairs. The grass itself looks familiar but subtly different, enough that I spend a moment assessing it. Seated in three of the seats are the heads of the Uvrik corporation in Calgary. The first is another dog-like variation, a weird mixture of beagle and huskie with long, drooping ears and an elegant pointed face. The second looks like one of those fish from the deep crossed with a particularly hairy caterpillar�a creature of angles, fangs, and nightmarish bristles with hands. And the third is the most �human,� if you ignored the extra pair of mammaries, the swivelling antenna, and the cascading greenish-purple hair.

Donna halts�and I admit, so do I�at the sight of the trio, our poor human brains attempting to process the peculiarity before us. Whether it�s due to a higher exposure to weirdness or just a higher Willpower, I find myself striding forward and extending a hand. For the first time, I kind of regret that the aliens have to, by common Galactic courtesy, use our greeting methods�I�m not looking forward to touching the spider-fish thing.

�John Lee,� I say, shaking hands as I�m introduced around.

Donna approaches and greets them as well, failing to suppress a shudder as she touches the creature of oceanic nightmares.

Rikard (Level 46 Urban Planner)

HP: 370/370

MP: 1280//1280

Condition: Trimark Link

Uwa Bima, Lord of the Sixty Third Chase of Balump (Level 17 Barrister)

HP: 670/670

MP: 1780//1780

Condition: Trimark Link

Quatta (Level 3 Security Consultant)

HP: 820/820

MP: 930//930

Condition: Trimark Link

�Trimark Link?�

�Similar to your Two are One. Except shared across multiple individuals. They�re all hooked up to two others.�

Smart. I�m actually happy to note they took such actions. It means they�re taking us seriously.

�Redeemer. Ms. Luff. Thank you for coming to speak with us. Do you care for refreshments?� Uwa the fish-spider takes the lead, a small thing I absently note.

Pity I didn�t have much time to study their culture and whether his taking the lead means they�re taking this seriously or if it�s just the way things work for them. After all, even on Earth, in certain cultures, the boss doesn�t speak much, working through their assistants for all but the most important bits. We quickly decline their hospitality, not just because of potential poison but because their idea of snacks is eclectic. Wasabi peas, dried shrimp, and raw, unsliced cucumbers aren�t exactly business meeting food.

�Lord Bima or Lord Uwa?� I send to Ali, unsure of how to answer him.

�Neither. Just Uwa. That�s not a noble name, just a title.�

�Well, I�m sure you�ve all read the offer,� Donna says now that the initial pleasantries are over. Among the earlier correspondence passed was our one-page ceasefire offer.

�Yes. I believe you Americans prefer a blunt answer?� Before we can correct him, Uwa�s already continuing. �A peace settlement on your terms is unacceptable. The City Core we hold has already cost us a significant amount of resources.�

�But that cost is a sunk cost,� Donna says, leaning forward on the lounging chair. �Continued war will increase such cost, with little return.�

�But the cost to you is high as well. In addition, control of a City Core provides significant non-Credit advantages,� Uwa retorts.

I watch the pair spar, arguing for a few more minutes about what, to me, seems an obvious conclusion. They�re willing to do this, or else there�s no point in dragging us out here. Irritated, I fiddle with my inventory, pulling out some chocolate. I pop a piece into my mouth, only to get a slight smile from Rikard.

�Did our food not suit your needs?� Rikard asks, drawing the attention of the other three.

I swallow the chocolate, refusing to look at Donna�s glare. �Nothing like that. Call it a bad habit for when I get bored.�

�Bored?� Quatta breathes, her voice high and pitchy.

�Yeah. I�m not a big fan of arguing over what seems to be a given. You guys are willing to sue for peace. The question is, what do you want? Just tell us, rather than talking in circles.�

�But we are negotiating�� Uwa pauses, eyes focused a few feet in front of him. �Ah. I see. You are even more blunt than expected. I shall have to update our protocols.�

Donna hisses, waving her hands slightly while shooting me a glare. �Please, Mr. Uwa, don�t base your protocols on John. He is unusual even for us humans.�

I grunt, refusing to apologize or back down from my initial question. �So?�

�Very well. We are willing to stop aggressive actions against you. The corporation is not willing to expand hostilities with the Kingdom, and as such, we do not agree to aid you in attacking them. We will give up the City Core, giving you majority control of the city, but require adequate compensation. That includes land in your settlements, Redeemer,� Uwa says.

�How much land?�

�Well, that is a matter to be negotiated.� Uwa seems to straighten in his chair, frills and hair tucking closer to his body.

�Arse,� I mutter but don�t protest any further, gesturing for Donna to take over. Even I�m not dumb enough to think that we won�t have to talk about this a bit. Still, being the dumb, impatient hick means that this entire conversation had sped up more than I could have reasonably expected.

The negotiation continues between Uwa and Donna, the pair starting with the number of settlements then switching to specific settlements, lot sizes, building types, addresses, and more. Even I can tell that there are details that will need more time, more research to be completed. The fact that a good portion of this discussion includes my settlements also means that my people will need to get involved.

The conversation takes hours, and in the meantime, I�m giving Rickard and Quatta a lesson in proper meeting foods. Cheese, crackers, a wide variety of chocolates, and pork rinds appear as we talk.

Uwa and Donna call it as the day gets closer to the end. There are too many details to finish by themselves, but at least for now, a broad agreement has reached. As such, the trio leads us to the exit.

That�s when I grab my chance to ask a question that has been bugging me. �Why did you agree?�

�A simple calculation about the return on investment across the options provided. With your current settlements, especially Vancouver with its dungeon, we expect to see a significant return in the future for much lower on-going expenses if we can reach an agreement. If this agreement is successful, upper management has indicated that we might be willing to negotiate for additional locations,� Uwa says. �Obviously, that would depend on your continued expansion and success.�

�Of course.�

�Careful there, boy-o. That�s how the Yerrick lost. They kept giving out land, and they eventually found themselves bought out of their own cities.�

�I remember,� I say while smiling and saying goodbye. After all, there�s no guarantee that that is what the Uvrik corporation is actually considering. And pigs may fly.

Chapter 8

You�d think that something already agreed upon in principal would be fast to negotiate. Even with everyone�s earnest desire to get this done, the final peace treaty took weeks to complete. And that�s with significant cribbing by Kim and Ali from other Galactic agreements and Donna�s 24/7 work ethic. The woman even Leveled twice during the entire process. But in the end, we had a signed and vetted agreement that covered timing, penalties, land trades, Credit payments, tax exemptions, and more. Frankly, if we hadn�t used the Shop to get the entire thing vetted by a third-party Galactic Barrister, I�d have been afraid to sign it.

During this entire time, the Kingdom refused to talk to us. In fact, the little goblin-asses picked up the tempo of their attacks, forcing us to deploy even more people to their border. Since the damn halflings are refusing to talk to us and the Uvrik already know about me, there�s little reason for me to stay hidden any further. It�s even likely they�ve bought enough information from the Shop that they know I�m here. Finally, the council let me loose. That, of course, brought its own problems, including a couple of targeted ambushes. All those attacks were beginning to feel a little personal, but at the same time, it�s kind of hard to get really angry at people who are, like, three and a half feet tall. But trust me, they sure do try.

Which of course leads us to today and the attack we�ve planned. Now that we have a peace agreement in place with the Uvrik and no contact with the Kingdom, it�s time for us to finish this. Which leaves me on this blasted street, fighting off another damn swarm of halflings.

�Get. Off. Me,� I snarl, kicking and punting the halfling through the air.

I send a burst of projectile fire after the spinning body, and the impacts of the explosive projectiles throw the body on a new, bloody trajectory. Even as my attacker falls away, another little bastard charges me with a tiny serrated knife and plunges it into Sabre�s beleaguered thigh armor.

�Chain Fireball,� a voice intones behind me, all the warning I get before a sphere twice the size of a basketball flashes past me and splits into five smaller spheres which head off in different directions and explode. The explosion throws me and the swarm of halflings apart, making Sabre�s damage board flash red all over.

�Arse,� I snap, dragging the poor mecha back into my inventory with a thought.

Two hours into our attack on the Kingdom and my trusty mecha has seen better days. A part of me notes that it�ll likely come back with additional resistances against edged and fire damage, while another points out that there�s a reason why the previous version of the PAV had easily replaceable armor parts. It�s going to be weeks before Sabre is back in action.

�You good?� Chetan says, his Indian accent coming through even more clearly under stress, his fingers shifting as he hand-casts a healing spell on me.

Dealing with the Mages from Seattle is frustrating, since none of us are coordinated in our actions or decisions. I hate fighting with new people, but they�ve been assigned to me since they�re a decent stopgap while my team provides heavier firepower.

�Warning first, damn it!� I snarl.

When Chetan taps his ear, I realize the helmet is too damaged to transmit and I do a quick swap with another copy before repeating my angry answer.

Chetan Patel (Level 8 Life Mage)

HP: 301/340

MP: 1733/2830

Conditions: Gaia�s Embrace, Anaerobic Surplus, Mana Drip

�Sorry about that,� Daniel says as he walks up.

I glance back at the Vietnamese-born mage who�thanks to the gene editing purchase�stands shoulder-to-shoulder with me. Swirling around him are small fire elementals. I�ve seen those fire elementals flash forward and intercept beam attacks and rubble, absorbing attacks and leaving Daniel untouched.

�We needed them clear,� Daniel says. �The colonel has new orders for us. We�re needed at 45 St and 8th Ave. Southwest for both.�

Daniel Nguyen (Level 11 Fire Conjurer)

HP: 237/280

MP: 2803/3400

Conditions: Embrace of the Sun, Mana Drip, Roving Flames

�That�s right across the city!� I grumble, my map updating with the new directions. Our scouts, who�ve backtracked since we got held up by this ambush, wave us forward, and we comply. �Which idiot decided to name everything using numbers and compass directions?�

I get a shrug from the two Mages who match my pace. Thankfully for them, we�re forced to keep to a slower pace as our scouts try to get us around the fiercest of the fights. That, according to the damn colonel, isn�t my job. No, I�m just a giant transportation machine. Pulling a beam rifle from my inventory after a thought, I keep my eyes swivelling left and right in search of threats the scouts might have missed�or who, like the ambush party, moved in our direction since they left.

�We getting reinforcement for our team?� Chetan pants, his Stamina obviously not up to snuff. Running and fighting as much as we have done has obviously taught him to sink more points into Constitution the next time he Levels.

�No idea. Why don�t you ask?� Daniel suggests sweetly.

Chetan grimaces, knowing that he�d get another �we�re working on it� answer. �We�re Mages damn it, not tanks. We�re DPS at best, long-range support. They could have at least given us Mike.�

I grin, recalling the overweight programmer who had classed in as a Druid. The first time we released him, Mike had been in his dire bear form, a minibus-sized transformation that smashed its way through the Kingdom�s hardest strong point via brute strength.

�How�s your Mana?� Lancer 3�s voice cackles in my ear.

I admit, I had to giggle a little internally when he was first introduced to me as my point of contact. I�ll admit it�s juvenile, but calling the soldiers by Lancer 6 or Lancer 3 or the like just made me smile. �Okay.�

�Numbers.�

�Five eighty-seven and increasing.�

�Get it up to at 750 at least. We need you to open the Portal at 14 and 33rd, then we�ll need another Portal to the Saddledome from Westbrook Mall once the teams have done mop-up there. Coordinates are being updated on your map.�

I nod, reaching to my Mana Bracer and pulling out another fifty or so Mana. That should easily put me in the range they need before we reach them. Unfortunately, I�m realizing just how little an additional three hundred Mana is in such a long battle. �Do we join the mop-up?�

�If it�s not complete yet, yes. We need those troops over at the Saddledome.�

�And me?�

The Saddledome is where nearly half of our imported forces are. The high Level Basics and any Advanced fighters we brought are locked into a battle to free the dome and the City Core from the Kingdom. Unfortunately, the Kingdom seems to have dumped a ton of money into defenses on those buildings�never mind how big they are naturally�and our people have been bogged down.

�We�ll let you know. Over,� Lancer 3 says curtly.

�That�� I begin, then realize he�s already left. If he was talking to me directly, things must be urgent. A quick mental switch and I�m on the team�s frequency. �Let�s pick up the pace.�

We come in on 13th Ave to see Westbrook Mall wreathed in flames, the northern half crushed and mostly rubble. Explosions, gouts of flame, and a cyclone of debris greet us, the roar of spells, Skills, and explosives drowning out most of the screams as we hit 37th St. Most.

�Where�s the team?� Chetan asks, panting a little as we come to a stop.

�Get your asses under cover.� Wride fades in from the shadows near the corner, his crossbow held loosely in his arms, green army fatigues somehow blending in even in the grey concrete. We scramble to take cover, reminded to do so now that we aren�t running headlong, as he says, �Our targets are inside. The damn halfies are fighting inside the mall and blowing it up as our people push them back.�

Elliot Wride (Level 44 Apprentice Ranger)

HP: 1788/2300

MP: 450/450

Conditions: Urban Spirit, System Shadow, Eagle Eye

I crane my neck around, getting a hiss from Wride, but I ignore him. Anyone who wants to take a potshot at me will have to get through my restored Soul Shield. Still, I don�t hang my head out too long.

�We�ve got to get to them,� I say.

�Jess is scouting it now,� Wride says. A moment later, our maps update, new route markers appearing. I frown, staring at them, which makes Wride stop from moving off. �What?�

�We�re going around,� I say.

�Yes. We�re going to flank the halfies,� Wride says as he tilts his head to stare directly at me. �Is that a problem?�

Dots move on my minimap, red and blue, enemies and friendlies. I can see the force concentrations, the numbers. Hell, I can even see where the damn halflings are on the map. A few explosives into the wall, Lightning Strike, Chain Fireballs, and then a Blink Step in would finish this, with less of our people down. I could finish this fight in a minute. But then I�d have blown half of my remaining Mana and probably lose my Soul Shield, which would require me to refresh it, which would put me well below what Wier needs me for.

�Nothing.� I grit my teeth, shaking my head.

It pisses me off, not being able to help more. I feel helplessness as I condemn some of the fighters within to death just so that we can throw the survivors into the grinder again a few seconds later.

Miners nods then pops up, checking out the surroundings before he takes off, slipping from cover to cover in full view of us. I know he�s doing it to let us know where to move, annoying as it might be to be schooled like this. But he�s the expert. I just kill things.

By the time we get to the mall�s southern entrance, Jess has disarmed the traps laid across the entrance, dealt with the pair of watchers they kept out, and found us an entrance. Even as we slip in, I have to admire the Advanced Level Ranger and his effectiveness. The man might not be as tough in a stand-up fight as I am, but damn is he good at his job.

Together, Miners and Jess move ahead of us even as the sound of battle approaches. Within seconds, we�re in our ambush spots, the pair highlighting our positions in our maps. Not a moment too soon since the first of the halflings appear a moment later. Jess has us hold our fire even as the halflings take position a bare twenty meters ahead of us.

Absently, I twist the beam rifle in my hand, debating which spells I could use as I eye my designated zone of fire. The journey takes just over three minutes, returning another three hundred or so Mana to me. That�s good enough for a Blink Step in close and then Blade Strikes. Or an Inferno Beam into the biggest cluster. They�re too spread out for Lightning Strike to be particularly cost effective. I could Mud Wall them, but that�d be hard to move through later, so I nix that idea.

My thoughts are interrupted as the halflings lay down covering fire, another group rushing toward their prepared positions. I grin, knowing that Chetan�s spell and Kelly�s Skill are still hiding us from their own sensors.

�Now!� Jess snaps over the comms.

There�s just over fifteen halflings in front of us, most having barely gotten themselves under cover before we let loose. A beam of white-hot fire flies from my hands as Wride holds down the trigger on his crossbow, bolts slamming through the bodies of the halflings and piercing their defenses. Jess uses a more traditional assault rifle, System-registered bullets tearing into their backs. In his corner, Daniel goes for something a little more cinematic, an elemental fire wyrm that comes to life and whips around to lay waste to the halflings.

The initial shock sees us add a few of the injured to our kill count, but the halflings react well. They spin about, taking cover and returning fire, only to find that their initial attackers are charging them. After a moment, I realize that Jess probably warned the other team too, letting them coordinate with us. Rather than stand and fight, the halflings break, charging us in a mad scramble that our combined firepower is insufficient to stem. A few harried minutes later, with me resorting to my blade as the last couple manage to get into melee distance, we�re done.

The rescued team has barely caught their breath before I�ve got the Portal open to send them to their next fight. Ten seconds after that, we�re on the road again, feet slapping asphalt as we head to our next objective.

It�s not the kind of fight I like. But as I glance at the ground we�ve gained and the kill count Ali has been quietly updating, I realize it might be the kind of fight we need.

�All right, Redeemer,� Lancer 3�s voice comes an hour and a half later as I get ready to open another Portal for a group of weary fighters. I�d have done it already, but they needed a moment to sort themselves out. �You�re cleared to follow the squad.�

�To the Saddledome?� I say slightly incredulously. Finally!

�Yes. There�s an obstacle your particular Skills are needed for,� Lancer 3 says. I make a mental note to look at his Status and get his name next time. �You will be briefed when you arrive.�

�Got it,� I say, waving to the group around me.

A quick briefing and a shuddering passage through the Portal later, we�re a block and a half away from the Saddledome. The other team starts down a side street with their own orders while we follow the updated map details on ours.

The Saddledome is huge, a multi-hall complex that hosted the Calgary Stampede and other giant conventions. It�s not a single building, though the largest one has multiple halls that are joined together, allowing access internally. Even so, when we get through the entrance and spend ten minutes jogging, I�m pretty sure it�s never been this big.

�What the hell? This place wasn�t this big at FanExpo!� Chetan mutters.

�FanExpo?�

�Stan Lee signing.�

�Nerd,� Ali crows before he waves. �It�s a City Center building that�s been modified with a minor pocket dimension.�

�A pocket dimension?� Daniel squeaks.

�A minor one. Relax,� Ali says nonchalantly. �Come on, you think my team wouldn�t be able to blast our way through your tiny building by now?�

Chetan grunts, saving his breath while Jess and Wride wave us onward. Our passage through the empty, gaping hallways is only marked by the appearance of corpses, combat damage, and the occasional unexploded trap.

Oh yeah, traps. There are a lot of them. Everything from the classic pitfall to chaos mines, walls filled with high-explosives and ball-bearings and automated laser turrets. Most of them are destroyed, but a few have reset by now, which we either avoid or just destroy again. It�s annoying and occasionally painful, but it doesn�t take too long before we catch up with the vanguard.

The army boys make up the majority of the fighters here, most of them split up into groups of four and hanging together in a squad of two teams. Or in some cases, what�s left of two teams. The non-military personnel are more loosely organized, but even then, they mostly hang out in their parties.

�Miss me?� I say, sliding into the space next to a familiar redhead resting against a wall around the corner from the fight.

She cracks open an eye then grins weakly. Next to her, Anna lies, fur singed and missing two legs. I frown, eyeing the fox with mild concern. Anna was pretty old when she was first picked up by Lana, and the last year has added streaks of white to her light red fur.

�John.� Lana�s voice is filled with relief and exhaustion at the same time. She hands me a thermos filled with coffee, which I swig quickly after dropping my helmet, the Skill-produced nectar of the gods automatically adding a small Stamina and Mana buff.

�Thanks.�

�About time,� Sam grumbles from his spot a short distance away. He�s leaning up against the wall, fiddling with a drone in his hands as he attempts to fix it. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that they�ve been stuck in the same spot for the last twenty minutes.

�Mikito?� I say as I search for the diminutive Japanese woman. On the other hand, I do spot Laila with her afro and her team.

�Down the other hallway with Carlos,� Lana says. �They�ve got this menagerie there which has a never-ending supply of monsters, it seems. They�re desperate for healers.�

�Oh, I don�t get an inquiry?� Ingrid says.

I jump slightly, adrenaline from hours of fighting leaving my nerves slightly overstrung. It�s only a small portion of my lizard brain that remembers she�s a friend, allowing me not to put my fist through her smirking face.

�Gotcha,� Ingrid adds.

�Funny. And that�s why I didn�t ask,� I say. �So I hear you need me?�

�I do. If you�re done with catching up with your friends,� Captain Angus Tyrell says sarcastically from a few feet down, hunched over clear air with his aides. Of course, I know they�re actually staring at a shared display, one I�m not privy to.

I flash the captain a smile as I walk over, eyeing soldier-boy and noting the damage on his suit. Good, not someone who leads from the back. �What can I do for you?�

�There�s a chasm in the other room. There used to be a bridge, but they destroyed it when we arrived. Attempts at fording the bridge have met stiff resistance. We need you to cause a disruption while opening a Portal for our men,� Captain Tyrell says while indicating exactly where he�d like that Portal on the 3D map he�s shared with me. �We�ll be supporting you the best we can, but you�ll need to handle most of the fighting yourself to begin with.�

I grimace, eyeing the thirty or so dots. A quick thought and Ali highlights the Advanced Class fighters in the group, flashing me their details. I�m a bit grateful he�s removed their names for now, those details not something I require.

Gale Mage (Level 17)

HP: 303/320

MP: 2103/2480

Conditions: Shield of Air, Wind Blades, Mana Drip

Medjay Warrior (Level 29)

HP: 2868/3110

MP: 983/1080

Conditions: Body of Stone, Millicent�s Ever Healing Remedy, Sense of Shifting Sands

Tagma Rider (Level 7)

HP: 1455/1480

MP: 988/1070

Conditions: Linked Mount, Health of the Many

3rd Bone Ranger (Level 6)

HP: 1577/1680

MP: 781/990

Conditions: Dimensional Sight, Air Sense, Mana Drip, Wqq�s Blessing

Four Advanced Fighters. None of their Conditions are particularly surprising, mostly buffs for their abilities, regeneration or defensive spells or Skills. Nothing extraordinary, but there are four of them. Three of which are melee fighters. I exhale then blink as first green, then purple light washes over me, my own conditions updating as the nearby spellcasters throw buffs on me too.

Haste

Mana Drip

Yeller�s Patented Kinetic to Blood Regeneration

Plot Armor

�

The buffs keep coming, but after a while, I stop looking at them and focus on the way the changes make me feel while keeping an eye on my Mana. I�m nearly topped up and my health has never been better. Other than a quick swap of armor, I�m about as ready as I can be. I could spend the time assessing if the spellcasters are coordinating properly or just trust that they aren�t clashing their buffs, canceling each other out. After all, certain types of Skills and spells actually clash in their properties and it isn�t always the �better� Skill that stays in effect.

As I exhale and pop my head around the corner again, the conversation with Ali pops back into mind.

�No such thing as infinite buffs, boy-o. On average, you can get about three buffs for each of your secondary attributes, like Mana or Health. The first ups the related attribute, the second the regeneration, and the last the actual value. Spells or castable Skills that try to affect the same thing will often conflict unless the spellcaster is good. Or the Skill�s particularly unique.

�That doesn�t include passives of course. So your skill Body�s Resolve won�t clash with another regeneration spell, but a second spell of the same kind could if it was an active type. Of course, if you tried to get a second passive Skill, chances are you�d definitely clash. If you want, there�s a bunch of research on it, including the specific combinable Spells and Skills. But you ain�t a real spellcaster and��

A hand slips into mine, pulling me back from my memories. I turn to see Lana holding it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

�Worried?� she asks.

�Nope.� A single raised eyebrow and I chuckle softly. �Fine. Just a bit. It�s been a while since��

�Yeah.� Lana nods. She understands. It�s been a while since I did something this stupid. But there�s no one else, is there? And so, what is is. She kisses my helmet on the side before she drops down again. �You�re wasting your buffs. Boy-o.�

I chuckle softly and take the gentle ribbing as the encouragement it is before nodding to the captain to indicate I�m ready. A second later, my backup opens up. Sam�s drones sweep out first, laying down smoke and beam weapon fire. A few seconds later, the rifle squads who have been hunkering down and trading potshots open up, tearing into their opponents, soon joined by the spellcasters who have been conserving Mana. We stream into the cavern, taking cover under the portable shields and mobile armor that litter our side of the chasm. For a moment, I take it all in, the metallic floor and walls, the cavernous drop-off with its ill-lit bottom, and the defenders on the opposite side, a bare two hundred meters away. Then I act.

Blink Step. Maximum range, five hundred meters. An easy flicker, especially as Ali has swung high to give me an even better vantage point, one not obscured by the growing wall of smoke. My first target would be the Mage, but an anti-teleport formation that Ali spots makes that impossible. So I pop into being right behind the Bone Ranger crouched over a metallic wall and firing his repeating beam rifle. It�s a simple thing to extend a foot into his bottom and let physics take over. The Ranger�s yelp of surprise makes me grin even as he flails and falls into the cavern. I doubt he�ll die, but out of the fight is just as good a result for now.

A polearm flashes, a blade cleaving through my Soul Shield to be stopped an inch into my shoulder. My eyes wide, I jerk aside even as my attacker rips the weapon away, his hands burning from a damage reflection buff. I keep dodging, my Soul Shield forming around the torn hole even as the pair of Advanced Fighters close in on me. The Medjay is tall, nearly our size, with a pair of javelins in hand and long, sweeping hair. The Tagma is a stocky halfling female wielding a beam-pistol-and-sabre combo.

A hand twists as my eyes lock on the empty point of space the captain requested. A moment later, a tear in space appears, a black hole that offers nothing. Before I can rejoice, I�m grabbed by invisible hands and thrown into the sky. A moment later, a javelin is thrown at me, smashing into my Soul Shield, then it defies common sense as it hangs suspended in air, spinning and drilling into my Soul Shield.

�Lightning Strike, boy-o!� Ali cries as he swoops forward in front of my hands.

Hands slammed together, I call forth my spell, electricity playing along the crowd, attacking the Kingdom�s men even as Ali channels his own Affinity through it, upgrading the damage. We sweep the attack across the ground before finding our angle of attack changing abruptly. A moment later, vertigo.

�What the�?� I snarl then realize that the air grip has thrown me over the chasm before releasing me. Before I lose sight of the Portal, I trigger Blink Step to pop back into the air and get ready to re-engage.

Left alone by himself, Ali floats, exposed. Already, spells arc toward the Spirit, who is dodging into the chasm while attempting to fade out of existence.

As gravity takes me back down, I land in a crouch, feet flexing as I soak up my initial momentum, knees aching from the impact. The Soul Shield lasts for a fraction of a second longer before another beam rips into it. A javelin pierces my chest a moment later. I fall backward even as the javelin tears through my body and exits, flying back into the Medjay Warrior�s hand. Before he can attack me again, a pair of halflings dogpile my crouching form, blocking his attack.

Since I lost sight of my Portal, it snaps closed to the accompaniment of a loud scream. Even as I roll and buck off my little assailants as they stab me with poison and frost-coated weapons, I�m calling forth the Mana needed to open a second Portal. A twist and flip gets me to my feet, one of the halflings behind my back.

A bone-shuddering thud from behind is accompanied by a flash of orange and black. Roland at least made it through, and the halfling�s body crunches under his massive teeth. A second later, the second Portal snaps open, just to the side of where a Marine crouches, firing his repeating beam rifle as he bleeds from the stumps of his feet.

�Chain Fireball!�

The screamed warning has me throwing myself forward, ending up behind the Portal as the flaming sphere traverses the chasm. Insane or not, more of our people throw themselves through the Portal into the middle of the exploding flames. Entire rifle teams exit and take station, the few healers�or designated healers�doing their best to buff the front-line fighters. Ingrid appears from the shadows, wreathed in fire, to tackle the Medjay Warrior while Jess and Miners bully the Tagma Rider. I take a moment to recover from getting cooked. Again.

�Keep the Portal up. We�re nearly done,� the captain�s voice cackles over the communicator.

I grit my teeth and nod, layering a newly generated Soul Shield over my form while taking potshots with my beam rifle. I can�t afford to take my eyes off the Portal again, so I keep my help to the minimum. But the team doesn�t need it. Lana and puppies charge out of the Portal to smash apart the last resistance at the hallway exit. With our people inside their lines, the tide of battle turns. More and more of our men stream in, the Kingdom personnel unable to slow us down. And just like that, the fight is pretty much over, support personnel streaming in seconds later through the Portal.

�So, magic school bus, how you doing?� Ali says over our mental connection.

�Magic school bus?�

�What? You�re yellow and transport children around.�

I pause, considering if I should be insulted or proud to be compared to a classic children�s book. Wait. No. Insulted. Very much so. �Go roll in some Goblin shit.�

�That�s my boy-o.� Ali chuckles, floating up from the chasm. He�s literally smoking, damage from spells having pulled his Mana-imbued form apart.

�Why all the racist shit lately?� I say, stretching.

�No reason.� Ali flashes me a smile. There�s something in it that I don�t understand but nags at my intuition. For all that he�s an annoyance, his sense of humor tends toward the bizarre and perverted, not racist and hurtful. Which makes his recent actions weird.

�Mr. Lee,� Angus speaks a moment later, making me look up. �Colonel Wier says you may continue to work with us or proceed with the additional deployment of our troops.�

�He�s giving me a choice?� I say.

Lana snorts, walking over to me as she stares at the hole in my chest armor, the skin beneath already patched up. �The colonel knows you need to Level too.�

�Ah.� I consider the offer. �I�ll stay with you guys. If there�s nothing else, I�ll join the vanguard.�

�That�� Angus shuts up, deciding not to protest further.

Dangerous or not, the vanguard is where the experience is. Flashing him a grin, I trot forward, Lana following me, flanked by the puppies.

Time to finish this then.

Chapter 9

�Where to next?� Lana asks a day later.

We�re curled up on a couch in a newly purchased building in Calgary, one that we picked up from our earnings in the fight. Down the hallway, Ingrid and Mikito each have their own apartments while Sam�s taken over the caretaker�s place and the parking lot beneath for his drones. Last I saw, the older man was muttering something about upgrading Mikito�s PAV further.

�Mmmm� I�m not sure,� I say softly. �Things have cooled down for the Americans in Washington. Or heated up. There�s a new entrant and it�s messing up everyone. So Wier�s been ordered to take things a bit slower.� I let that topic die before I continue. �How�re our settlements?�

�Your settlements,� Lana says, prodding me in the short ribs.

�Yeah, yeah. We�ve got a rough outline for a government. I�ll get Ali to send it to you. Basically, a constitutional monarchy, with a steward, captain of guard, generals, and the rest. The administration of cities will be left to the self-elected city councils, with those under me as a check against them. There�ll be a series of individuals, roaming judges if you will, who can override decisions and mete justice out too. But we�ll mostly let the cities do their thing. And once all this is done��

�You�ll give it up?�

�Yup.� My lips twist in a half-smile. �Any other form is much harder to dissolve.�

�You�re asking people to trust you to give it back,� Lana says softly, eyes fixed on me.

�And you know what they say about power�� Ali cackles from his corner where he�s watching his latest binge TV show. As far as I know, he�s currently on a Dr. Who binge�including the lost seasons. I�m a bit confused about what those are, but really, that confusion is the least of my problems.

�I know,� I say. �We�re working on options to give you people a way around this. But I don�t think it�ll matter in time.�

�Oh�?� Lana arches an eyebrow.

I kiss her, just because she looks so damn good that way.

When I pull away, she murmurs, �Stop changing the subject.�

�Just a premonition about the future.�

When I refuse to elaborate, Lana drops the topic and answers my original question. �Vancouver�s doing well. We�re well on the way to meeting the Large Town requirements. The land purchase requirement is the problem. We�re trying to balance it with development in Burnaby to get it up to a Town level, but it�s still only at eighty-three percent right now. The parks are a tough nut to crack, but we�re getting there. New West, Richmond, and Surrey are next up, though Surrey seems like they�re going to get there by themselves.

�As for Kamloops and Kelowna, they�re both Towns, as you know. No real chance of them becoming Large Towns, not without a larger population�� Lana sighs and I nod. That isn�t possible until we can direct more people to them. With a minimum of twenty thousand population and a ninety-eight percent land purchase requirement, the Large Town status isn�t even worth considering.

�Sounds like things are in hand,� I say softly. �And the scattered other settlements?�

�We�ve pulled everyone who is willing to come out. There are still holdouts but�� Lana shrugs, and I have to agree with her. There�s not much we can do about those.

�What are we doing with the production spot for Vancouver?�

�Who knows? The damn Artisans keep arguing among themselves, so nothing�s happening. If I hear how �innovation is the only way forward� one more time,� Lana growls softly. �Why do you think I made my way out here?�

I chuckle, giving the woman a squeeze. �Thank you.�

�You�re welcome. So. Where next?�

I sigh, rubbing my face. My heart says to swing by and clear the prairies and keep going till I hit the Atlantic. Hopefully by that time, there�ll be enough people who can help that they�ll be able to free the Maritimes. Sense says dealing with the larger, more geographically close cities in the US is a better use of my time. We can free more people faster. Logic� well, hell. I haven�t actually looked at the information we have on the cities lately, so focused am I on Calgary and our potential alliances.

�Onward. Always onward.�

Later that evening, when Lana�s finally asleep, I have time to review my status updates. I have to smile slightly at the newly increased Levels, a smile that is wiped away when I recall why exactly I�ve gained these Levels. I exhale, pushing aside the mild guilt once more. Survivor�s guilt, that feeling of not being good enough, of not having sacrificed enough. It�s been more than a year now and still it lingers. For all my attempts at being more in touch with my emotions, I have a feeling certain things might continue to exist forever.

Glancing over my Status Screen, I note I�ve got another free Class Skill Point and nine free attributes to allocate. That�s a decent amount for upgrading, which means I should probably spend it. It�s strange, but at this point, those nine free points aren�t that huge a deal. That last battle was painful and once again showcased the need for more Mana and more Mana Regeneration. It�s one of the many reasons why I avoid picking up more passive Skills�too many of them harm my Mana Regeneration.

That being the case, Intelligence and Wisdom seem to be the best bets. Dumping three more points into Intelligence, four into Wisdom, and one each into Luck and Perception makes me happy. Now that we�ve got a larger sample size, I�m pretty sure that increases in Luck increase at the very least the number of Credits I get to take from those I kill. And money is good.

After that, I have to decide what to buy with my last Class Skill Point. And that�s a difficult choice. I�m not going to get many more from now on, so rather than make the decision, I put it on hold. Never know what I might need in the future.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist

Health

2120

Stamina

2120

Mana

1660

Mana Regeneration

129/ minute*

Attributes

Strength

112

Agility

199

Constitution

212

Perception

Intelligence

166

Willpower

164

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footprints*

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Inferno Strike

Mud Walls

As dawn breaks, Mikito and I have just finished a round of sparring. Ingrid�s on breakfast duty thankfully, while Sam continues to work on replacing his drones. Lana walks out of our bedroom, dressed but distracted as she swings her hand and mutters, working on one of her many projects. As hard as I work on building my combat skills, Lana probably does twice that in handling the various business and settlement interests she�s been given.

�What�s for breakfast?� Mikito asks, sliding into a seat. She eyes the stacks of omelets and the jars of honey, real butter, and jam, along with links of sausages and bacon. �Oooh, bannock!�

Everyone looks up, realizing what Mikito said. All eyes but Ingrid�s alight on the floury goodness on the table, our hands and bodies darting forward. Triggering Blink Step, I snatch four pieces of bannock before popping back to my seat, smirking at Sam, who is only just beginning to go for the fast shrinking pile. My smirk is wiped away a second later when Lana casually takes half of my share directly from my plate. When I move to protest, Lana cheats and uses big, puppy dog eyes on me.

�Thanks,� I mutter to Ingrid, eyeing the pot of boiling oil to see if she�s making any more. I�m not the only one.

�There�s no more,� Ingrid answers our unasked question. �You know I have to make these by hand. The Shop�s just isn�t right.�

I grunt, offering her a nod. Personally, I think it�s more of a matter of her personal skill at making it rather than the ingredients offered not being up to par. But as I stuff my face, I have to concede that I�m not exactly the expert on this.

�Portaling us back to BC today?� Sam asks when we�re all on our second�or in Lana�s case, third�plate.

�That�s the plan. Most of the fighters need to be back,� I say. �Kamloops first, then individual Portals everywhere else.�

�You ever going to do the Vancouver dungeon?� Mikito asks.

I grimace with regret. It�s rather stupid that I have a dungeon of my own and I haven�t even stepped foot into it. �Not yet.�

�Well, keep this up and we�ll catch up with you,� Mikito says, shaking her head. �Not helping anyone if you aren�t Leveling. Even another couple of Levels would allow you to extend your Portal range.�

�I know,� I snap then hold a hand up in apology. I could point out I could extend my Portal range right now, but I want to save that Skill Point like a squirrel with a nut.

Lana quietly pushes some coffee over while I get my irritation back under control. My temper�s getting better, but I have to admit, the stress of finding time to do everything is a bit of a killer.

�Nice one,� Ingrid says sarcastically, digging a dagger into my emotional vulnerability.

�Sorry, Mikito. Everyone,� I say, which gets Ingrid�s nod. A sip of coffee�plain coffee, not the magical brew from the Baristas�helps calm me down a little more. �I know I�m letting you guys down. Being the only one with the Skill is a bit stressful. The colonel keeps reminding me not to take risks, but at the same time, I need to be out charting new waypoints and leveling.�

�Why can�t you buy it for anyone else?� Sam asks, frowning.

�System limit,� Ali chimes in, happy to play the know-it-all. �You already know you can�t buy a Skill above your Class Skill tier, right? Well, Portal and a lot of the equivalent long-distance teleportation Skills are Advanced Class final tier. Even the spells including the teleportation rituals require at least Advanced Class casters.

�Even if you could get to that Level, you also have the problem of cost. John gets a huge discount because it�s his Class�just like you would in yours�but for others, they�d have to pay through the nose. Firstly, because it�s an Advanced Class Skill. Then again because it�s from a rare Class. Then for the Tier. We�re talking hundreds of thousands of Credits.�

�But John�?�

�Is a cheat character,� Ingrid says, quoting an old friend. �According to the System, he�s only at Level 43 Basic, even if he has access to his Advanced Class Skills.�

�That�s so unfair,� Sam mutters, shaking his head.

�Oh please, Mr. Swarm-of-Drones,� I say. �You barely get shot at because your drones do the work. And you get more assist experience than anyone I know.�

�It is rather useful, isn�t it?� Sam says with a smirk.

Before we can start another round of ribbing, a knock on the apartment door interrupts us.

�Come in.�

�Mr. Lee.� A young man strides in wearing an army uniform, greeting me when I turn to regard him. �Colonel Wier sends his greetings and requests your presence in his office. As soon as possible.�

�Is it something urgent?� I frown, tilting my head toward the window.

Lana shakes her head in my peripheral vision, indicating that she hasn�t picked out any sign of any large-scale fighting.

�No significant problems from the sensor net.�

�Yes, sir. He did mention ASAP,� the private says firmly.

I sigh, deciding I won�t be getting a third breakfast plate then. I�ll survive. �One second.�

I turned toward the group and glance at Mikito, who has grown quiet. I make a note to talk to her when I can, just to make sure we�re good. Sometimes it�s hard to tell, with how quiet she is.

Realizing I�ve forgotten what I meant to say and can�t recall it, I shrug and wave goodbye, using the same gesture to open a Portal. �I�ll see you all later.�

A moment later, I�m a couple of kilometers away from my apartment, the private dashing through the Portal as Ali snickers and follows. When the Portal snaps closed, I realize no one�s in the colonel�s office.

�Huh.� I frown, opening the office door and striding out.

The private scrambles after me, looking confused. We run into the colonel walking back with a cup of coffee and a breakfast plate balanced in his hands.

�Ah, that was fast. Well done, Private Keel. You�re dismissed.�

Keel doesn�t waste a second, leaving after saluting.

�I take it you Portalled into my command post?� Weir says.

�You did say it was urgent,� I say, not at all apologetic.

�Yes. It was. Is,� Wier says, gesturing for me to take a seat. �We have news that the Sons of Odin and a few other groups banded together and launched an attack on the Mages� base. They were repulsed, but not without losses. Sit down. The fight has been over for over a day already.�

I grunt, sitting while guilt claws at me. I dragged the Mages to Calgary to help us, the entire group being one of the few willing volunteers. Now their people lay dead because those who should have been guarding them were helping me.

�We�ve already informed the Mages and hastened all preparations for our return to Seattle. However�� The colonel eyes me. �I cannot act against them.�

�Why?�

�Politics,� Wier says bitterly. �We�re not to act against US citizens except in self-defense. The Secretary, the acting president, has issued an order barring direct action against US civilians. My hands are tied.�

I grunt, my lips curling in distaste. Stupid orders, at least from my perspective. Except I can see how the Secretary might not want to set the precedent. Still, stupid. �You want me to help.�

�I cannot, officially, ask for aid from a foreign power,� Wier says softly. �But if my allies were to appear in Seattle and decide to do some scouting ahead of freeing up additional US cities, it would not be inappropriate for them to defend themselves or act humanely if they came across criminal behavior.�

Damn weaselly words. But for all that, Wier�s sticking his neck out a bit, telling us this and asking for help, albeit obliquely, while indicating he won�t act against us. Not that I�d say no to the Mages anyway.

�Fine. But you should have asked my team to come too,� I say, standing and waving to create a Portal.

Seconds later, I�m back in my apartment building, to the surprise of my team. Seeing their faces, I brace myself to explain what has happened.

�Right, who wants to go on a road trip?�

Staring at the blasted ruins that surround us, pockmarked earthen craters and the burnt remnants of trees and shrubbery, the desperation and scale of the battle fought here is clear. With System-assisted reconstruction, the extent that�s still damaged shows that there was even greater destruction before.

�Thanks, John. We�ll see you!� Chetan says as he scrambles away.

His reminder of social niceties gets a chorus of agreements and repetitions from the other Mages as they nearly sprint into the buildings, concern written across their faces.

�You�re not going?� Carlos says to Daniel, who is still standing with us.

�No. I�ll get a report later,� Daniel says, his face impassive. �You�re our guests, so someone has to show you around.�

�That�s not necessary,� Lana says, shaking her head. �You should be checking on your friends.�

�They will be fine. Or not. In either case, it�s too late,� Daniel explains. �Shall I show you to your quarters?�

�Uhh�� Lana�s obviously perturbed.

�Har! Between you and John, we could get a skit going.� Ingrid snorts and prods him with her elbow. �Show us the way, Mr. Robot.�

�I�m not a robot. I just don�t see the fuss about crying over spilt milk,� Daniel protests.

When I hear Ingrid tease him again, I tune out the words while gesturing for Mikito to fall to the back with me. Sam, seeing the two of us moving to have a private chat, swings away from the group even as he releases some scouting drones.

�Yes?� Mikito asks.

�Just wanted to apologize again. About snapping,� I say, rubbing my nose.

Mikito wrinkles her nose slightly. �It is okay.�

She�s obviously uncomfortable with me tackling my social faux pas directly. Sometimes, it�s hard to navigate the damn cultural channels�when should I not talk about feelings, when should I?

�Right. Good.� I nod.

Mikito speeds up, but just before she leaves easy speaking range, she adds, �I�ll take it out of you tomorrow morning.�

I blink at the tiny Japanese woman and feel a thread of fear run through me. Perhaps her hanging out with Lana and Ingrid is a bad idea.

We�re in a large meeting room. Charles, Chetan, Daniel, and the rest of the Mages are all clustered around a paper map of the city. On it, pins are placed for all the City Cores, and small, finely painted pewter miniatures indicate the various parties involved.

�A bit old school here, aren�t we?� Sam says, eyeing the map.

�You�re complaining about how we choose to display our information?� Charles says, staring at Sam.

�You guys are the tech geeks, aren�t you? I�d have expected, I don�t know, holographic maps. Didn�t think you�d be a bunch of luddites,� Sam rebuts.

�Hey! We have that in our real�� Chetan says and gets glared down by Charles. Mocha-colored skin flushing, he subsides with an embarrassed grin.

While Chetan is explaining that we�re not being allowed into their main conference room, I�m busy picking up some of the miniatures and admiring the paint job. Some are obvious�the infantry trooper for the US Army, the horned Viking helmet for the Sons of Odin, and the chainmail bikini warrior for the women-only group. Others require a little more thought, like the bardic figurine with a lute for the Baristas. Luckily, they�ve got a little note on the board indicating which piece is what.

�Boys.� Lana rolls her eyes. �Are we done yet? What are your plans, Charles?�

Charles nods, tapping the board. �All the figures with a red base belong to an enemy group that we know attacked us. The yellows are those we believe might be supporting these groups, but we aren�t sure. Greens are friendlies, of course��

�Wait, why are greens friendlies? I thought blue was for friendlies?� a portly mage interrupts.

�We agreed on green for friendlies and blue for allies, Steven,� Charles says exasperatedly.

�Well, we�ve got no blues on the board, so we should use blue for friendlies��

�Steven,� Charles says softly, anger tinging his voice. Daniel, beside Steven, elbows the portly man, who finally shuts up. Charles turns to us. �Sorry.�

�What do we know about our opponents?� I say while tapping the little Viking figurine.

�Actually, we thought we�d have you talk with this group,� Charles says, pointing at a smaller figurine.

I frown, staring at the location before looking at their helpful note. Oh, the suburban group with Desmond. �We can do that.�

�Problem?� Charles asks, hearing the uncertainty in my voice.

�Just not used to planning to kill other humans. Well, not much,� I say, recalling a few times when I�d done that. But the circumstances were different. Sort of. Maybe it�s just that we�re looking at a larger group, a bunch of people who used to be plain old middle-class suburban residents.

�If it�s too much��

�No. We�re allies,� I cut him off but find myself shooting a glance at my team.

Mikito is impassive as ever. Ingrid and Carlos look slightly angry, while Sam is giving his usual stoic expression. By now, I know that�s his version of �I�m unhappy, but I understand we�re doing this.� It�s only Lana who looks as uncomfortable as I feel, but Lana gives me a firm nod. For all her empathy, the redhead knows how to push it aside. As for our healer, he just stays silent.

�We�re good,� I say.

�Thank you. Now, Daniel, your group is going to hit Ethan�s group,� Charles says.

With our marching orders given, I can keep quiet and watch, remembering the potential areas and stewing in my thoughts. Thoughts which revolve around having to kill humans. When they deserve it or not, I hate this.

�Now remember, we�re taking prisoners if we can, but don�t risk yourself. Attack only those on the list. A lot of these groups have non-combatants, just like we do, so be careful,� Charles says sternly. �I�m leaving it to you all on how to engage your groups, but do your best to keep the casualties down. But don�t risk yourself.�

A chorus of agreement meets his pronouncement, after which there are a few last things to sort out. The final thing is, of course, the registration of everyone who attacked the Mages on a bounty list, adding them as a potential Quest reward for turning in these attackers. With the Mages� mysterious leadership team going after the strongest group�the Sons of Odin�cleanup of everyone else should be simple enough. When we finally split up, the final �go� time is still to be determined. Just in case our opponents are trying to get that information from the System.

�You going to be okay with this?� I ask Sam while Carlos and I lend a helping hand to the Technomancer.

Carlos tilts his head when he hears me speak but doesn�t say anything. Unlike us, Carlos has been fighting humanoid sentients for the majority of last year and is also a native, so he�s a little more invested.

�I�ll survive,� Sam grunts. �Higher please.�

I comply, lifting the covering of the larger drone higher. �Thought you were going for smaller drones?�

�Just doing some work for their mechanics. My drones are ready,� Sam said, rubbing his nose. �There�s a Skill called �Optimization� that I can use if I work on a piece of advanced technology. Keeps the drone running at a seven percent efficiency increase for the next six hours.�

�Ah.� I nod. �You know, you can skip out on this if it�s an issue.�

�No. They attacked our allies. We have to hit them. And my drones will provide us more coverage and control of the non-combatants,� Sam says. �I�m not happy about this. But it needs to be done.�

�They�re assholes anyway.� At the looks he gets from us, Carlos clarifies. �My friends and I, we were part of Desmond�s group for a bit. We quickly found ourselves doing all their dirty jobs�night patrols, corpse cleanup, harvesting. Somehow, the whiter team that joined at the same time never got the same share of work.�

�They just assigned you guys?� Sam says.

�Nah. There�s always an excuse, you know? Why the schedule changed. Why the other team couldn�t do it. Someone got hurt. Somehow we�re more suited to harvesting than the others,� Carlos says bitterly.

Sam winces and murmurs some consoling words while I keep quiet, caught in my thoughts.

�Was this why you�re being a bit of a dick? Getting my walls up?�

�A bit. You�re a bit of a softie at times. And let�s just say that I picked up some chatter lately.�

It�s no real surprise. Even in Vancouver, I�ve seen some of the old prejudices rise up, though little of it was directed at me. Being insulated by position, wealth, and power means that I don�t have to deal with the same level of bullshit as before. But people like Carlos and his friends�who, I absently note, he�s only now mentioned�probably had it worse. Add the fact that the lines are drawn clearer down here, and well�

�Drop it. I don�t need your pop psychology. Been dealing with that shit my whole life. And from what Lana tells me, we�re going to have to deal with it more when we deal with the Galactics once we�re out of Earth.�

�You can lower it,� Sam repeats, and I comply, dropping the drone�s top as requested.

�Do you think Mikito will be fine with this?� Carlos says hesitantly.

�Mikito?� I say with a frown.

�Yes. She was so, umm� cold,� Carlos ventures.

�Ah. Yes, she is.� I lean back to consider my friend�s reaction. I�d just taken her lack of objection as acceptance, the young woman�s willingness to jump into our violent confrontations a given in my mind. �Mikito should be fine. She�s done this before.�

�Yes, but is she okay?� Carlos stresses the last word, trying to get his point across.

After peering at Carlos for a moment, Sam snorts while I frown, unsure of why the man is so insistent on that point.

�Oy, inventory of rocks. He likes her.� Ali�s mental thought is filled with exasperation, obviously cluing in on my lack of a clue. �And you, lover-boy, just talk to her.�

�Me? No, I didn�t. I�m not�� Carlos splutters a bit. We all chuckle, making the Latino flush. When we�re finally done laughing, he sets us off again with his next question. �Do you think she�d be okay with that?�

�Outside of Carlos�s interest, we actually got a plan for this?� Sam says, having pulled out various pieces of another drone to put together.

�Sort of. I was thinking of asking them real nice��

A buzz precedes an announcement in my ear that notifies us it�s time to get moving. The attack is on.

�I get it now.� Mikito laughs behind her hand as she surveys the golf course grounds and clubhouse.

We all look at her askance, most of us having understood the barbarian with the club figurine used and not finding the hilarity in it that she does. All but Carlos, who laughs a little too hard.

�Are you sure this is a good idea?� Sam mutters.

Since we still have to journey south to the actual city core after the attack announcement is made, I have more than enough time to brief the team on the �plan.� Calling it a plan is rather generous, but we out-Level these fellows enough that it shouldn�t matter. It�s part of the reason we�ve all got our helmets down, showcasing our faces. On the other hand, Lana�s pets are all farther behind, hidden behind invisibility potions and ready to back us up.

�It�ll be fine,� I say. �If we don�t take their City Core, we�d be forced to hunt their fighters down anyway. This way, they�ll do all the work for us by gathering here. We won�t even need to hunt them down.�

�And if they refuse to fight?� Lana asks as she cranes her neck and surveys the slowly gathering teams of enemy combatants.

Most of the fighters are streaming in from the various houses dotting the golf course, luxurious residences that once overlooked carefully manicured, pesticide-ridden grounds. Someone had actually spent the Credits to ensure the grounds were still manicured and cut, managed by the System rather than underpaid groundskeepers.

�Then they lose their Core. And the Mages can figure out who they want to kick out,� I say.

I have no intention of taking the City Core here. I have more than enough on my hands, dealing with the politics and development of the settlements in BC. There�s no need to invite even more trouble by getting involved in the US. Not yet at least.

�Mr. Lee, Mr. Turner.� Desmond walks to the forefront of the group, hand resting on the butt of his pistol. �What�s the purpose of your visit?�

�Your Core,� I say. �We�re here to take it from you. And there are a few people we�ve got a bounty to collect on. Ali.�

A moment later, the list of wanted personnel appears as a System notification for everyone present. Ali�s even been nice enough to sort the ones in this group to the top and highlight them for easy reading. He�s considerate that way.

�You�re just going to take a quest from those Mages? Do their bidding? I thought you were independent!� Desmond sputters.

�Well, it�s nice experience,� I drawl before I drop the act and let him see some of the anger in my eyes. �And you guys attacked first.�

�It has nothing to do with you!�

�Except they�re our allies. And you�re assholes,� I say then gesture to the team to walk forward.

We cross the space between us, Carlos and Sam tapping their helmets, the hardware shifting around their neck and forming around their face as asphalt crunches under our feet. Our opponents shift and ready weapons. I hear spells being chanted and buffs being added, but I don�t break eye contact with Desmond.

�You think you can beat us? There�s only five of you!� Desmond snarls, his pistol drawn.

From a hundred feet, we�re down to fifty, the slow, rhythmic thread of our steps not stopping. They have numerous spells held ready, but thus far, no one has attacked.

�Five?� Lana whispers.

�Ingrid�s gone again,� Sam mutters, his voice carrying to us via the communicator.

Without a word, Lana triggers her Aura of the Red Queen, her hair darkening into a blood red, her features growing slightly shadowed, her pale skin lightening. The beautiful redhead becomes so much more intimidating, the fear effect that the Aura triggers causing indrawn breaths and a few involuntary steps back.

�Tell me,� I call, raising my voice to carry to everyone around us. �Are you all willing to die for Desmond and his friends? Because the first person to shoot dies. I don�t know if you all agreed on the attack, but for those of you on the list, we�re not going to kill you. Neither are the Mages.�

�What� what are you going to do with us?� a voice shouts.

I chuckle softly. �I hear you guys are fans of serfdom��

I never get to finish my sentence because Desmond opens up, the melee fighter with the sword and tower shield behind him moving next to him whilst glowing a purple color. Smoothly, another of his allies drops to her knees, brown hair billowing as she fires her plasma rifle. A mage snaps off a spell, and steel birds appear around the group, razor-sharp wings extended. All around us, a few of Desmond�s people open fire while others hesitate at the sudden onset of violence.

�Sam, Lana, crowd control!� I snarl, my sword appearing in my hand and cutting the plasma beam.

Of course physics doesn�t work that way and the beam, aided by a Skill, melts my sword partly and slams into my chest anyway, a fraction of a second before Desmond�s second shot manages to hit me. Even as my armor smokes and my skin bubbles, a soothing green light washes over me as Carlos gets to work. Rather than take another shot, I cast Soul Shield. I�d purposely left it off since I didn�t want to come in too hard�but perhaps I could have worded our earlier entrance better.

Damn Charisma.

Mikito, under her Haste Skill, ducks the majority of the birds as she runs to Desmond, only to be blocked by the wannabe-legionnaire. The pair exchange attacks, Mikito�s longer weapon leaving her mostly safe from the legionnaire�s gladius. However, each attack that he blocks seems to cast a red glow that drops Mikito�s health a little while the swooping metal birds force her to duck and dodge while fighting.

While everyone�s distracted by Mikito, Ingrid makes her appearance, her knives sliding into the steel mage�s back. His back arches and he gurgles in pain as she yanks the blades from his kidneys and restabs him in the shoulder blades. He sinks to his knees. Finally free to choose my target, I Blink Step above Desmond.

�Time to die,� I snarl, my sword dismissed and recalled to give it back its edge.

Even as I drop, I activate Cleave and Elemental Strike�Ice. I don�t even need my additional blades as my cut tears into Desmond, the blade sliding through his body with garish ease. Blood, bone, and muscle part, frosting over. Desmond chokes, his lungs compromised as he attempts to wheeze out a protest. He falls backward, ripping the blade from his body.

A moment later, the blood that escaped from the frozen flesh stops running, growing grey and firm. In a flash, the rest of Desmond�s body is covered in the same greyness and his mouth splits into a grin as he drops his pistols and launches himself from his feet with an uppercut.

�Got you,� Desmond snarls.

With a casual twist of my hands, I bring my sword across my body to block the attack. Rather than cut through his fist fully, it only sinks in a few centimeters before the surface of his newly hardened body punches through my defense and pushes me back.

Class Skill: Blood to Stone (Level 3)

Transforms lost hit points into defensive armor, increasing the defense of the user. Blood to Stone increases armor at a ratio of 1.2:1 for each health loss.

Cost: 200 Mana

Duration: 3 minutes

�Dream on,� I snarl, cutting at Desmond with my sword the moment I rush back to him.

He might have a better defense, but I�ve got a Soul Shield, so even when he does manage to actually hit me, it does no damage. Again and again we clash, blade against fist, and wounds open across Desmond�s body. A faked cross turns into a front kick which turns into a spinning backhand by Desmond, his attacks shattering my Soul Shield. In return, I duck under and cut his leg, slicing a line of grey damage. But even as I watch, his wounds slowly knit together, his chest wound nearly entirely healed.

�Lana, I�m marking his healers!� Ali sends over the party chat.

In a few moments, his healers are glowing. We�ve been avoiding attacking them since they aren�t direct damage dealers, but since it�s gotten this far, the gloves are off. At this rate, his defense is just going to keep creeping up, making my attacks almost utterly useless.

Shattered glass draws my attention and I�m forced to jerk my head back just a little too late. Gnarly, rough knuckles graze my jaw, tearing open surface wounds. From the shattered vials, smoke pours out, covering the battlefield.

-31 Poison Damage Taken (Poison Resisted)

The notification flashes in the corner of my eyes even as I find the poison burning my skin and exposed flesh. I would swear, but it�s the right call. The healing from Desmond�s friends drops as they lose sight of him. Forced to rely on his own regeneration and armor, he backpedals but continues to laugh softly as I keep hitting him, trying to drag down his health. He�s mostly on the defense for the moment, taking damage and dishing a little out before a fully drawn shoulder cut across his chest leaves just a white line across his skin.

�Thousand hells,� I swear.

�My Skill stacks, stupid.� Desmond laughs maniacally as he throws himself forward, disregarding defense at all.

I�m forced to backpedal, blocking, dodging, and occasionally eating a shot. Cleave should work, but only a little longer�his damage resistance keeps going up. I can slow him down with Freezing Blade, but it won�t kill him� slow him down�

I chuckle, catching a cut, then grab him, spin him around, and slam him into the ground. He�s good, but he has nowhere near my agility. And while he might have had some hand-to-hand training in the past, I�ve spent the last year and a half training with Mikito. My shift in tactics puts him down, his arm stretched across my chest and locked at the elbow and shoulder while I press his face into the ground.

�You can�t stop me!� Desmond chokes out, pushing upward for a second.

I know if he�s really willing to do it, he could dislocate his arm and get out, so I cast before he gets the idea. In the few seconds my spell requires to conjure, I look around to survey the situation.

A body falling from a rooftop shows Ingrid is dealing with some of our ranged attackers, her Shadow Form giving her the maneuverability required. Carlos is hunkered low with Sam and Lana in our original position, a series of defensive shield drones offering support as the group fights off a pair of attackers. The puppies are dealing with a cluster of ranged fighters on the left, Anna and Roland intimidating another cluster of surrendered combatants to the right. Mikito, having dealt with her attacker, is finishing off the female rifle-bearer.

That�s all the time I have before my spell forms. Shoving down hard, I jump and Blink Step away even as the Mud Walls form, slamming together to cover Desmond.

�Carlos, Ice!� I snap even as I cast Polar Zone on the Mud Walls.

A couple of potions�twinkling, periwinkle blue bottles of liquid�crash against the liquified earth, releasing their sub-zero contents and completing the freezing process. The sudden emergence of the mud and the entombment of their leader freezes our assailants, their ace in the hole neutralized. Hopefully.

�Is he dead?� Carlos says, staring at the newly created frozen, brown hill.

Just in case, I make a note to cast Polar Zone again once the cooldown is off.

�Nope. He might suffocate in a few hours, but his Constitution is high enough to keep him alive for a bit,� Ali says, peering at his screens.

�But he�s taking damage�� Sam says. Even from there, he can feel the unnatural cold radiating from the hill. �A bit cruel, no?�

I shrug, keeping my face impassive. Best to play cruel and uncaring. Truth be told, while I might have been able to kill the son of a bitch eventually, it�d have been a slog. Better to leave him stuck until the Mages come by and drag him away. His Skill was a nasty, overpowered one.

�Are we done?� I ask threateningly, letting my gaze slide over our shocked opponents. There are a few quick nods, a few faces turned away in shame. �Good.�

I wave, using up a large chunk of my remaining Mana and dragging a headache with it to open a Portal. The Mage team that�s been waiting steps through and heads into the building to take over the Core while Lana, under her Aura and with Ali�s help, sorts out the wanted figures. No surprise, not all of them decide to come peacefully once we lay hands on them. A few with stealth abilities even attempt to run away. Luckily, we have Ali and the pets around to corral the majority of those, though a few manage to get away during the fight or perhaps were never around. They�re a problem for later.

Five minutes later, as the Mage team comes back out of the building, an explosion attracts everyone�s attention. At this distance, all we hear is a low rumbling sound, but all eyes turn in that direction. Lana�s eyes narrow as a large plume of smoke rises from the downtown core.

�What is it?� Carlos says.

�Space Needle,� Lana says slowly, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. �It�s where the Sons of Odin had their headquarters.�

�The Mage leaders?� Mikito asks quietly.

�Yes,� Ali answers for Lana. �They decided to make a show of it and blew up the entire building.�

�Civilians?� I say with a frown.

Ali shrugs. He has a little more information than we do, but it isn�t as if he�s omnipotent. I make a mental note to have a conversation with our �friends� later about that. If the Sons of Odin were anything like this group, there might have been some innocents in there. Then again, there might not have been. Better not to jump to conclusions before I tear out someone�s throat. Still, this display puts another mark in the column of �don�t necessarily trust the Mages� portion of my brain.

An hour later, when the Mages have sent enough people to keep the peace and the crowd has dispersed, my team gathers again in front of the Core to be ported back.

�Are we really going to let them make them slaves?� Sam asks, looking at the bound and guarded group of prisoners awaiting transportation.

�Not exactly,� Lana says softly, shaking her head. �There�s going to be trial. Those who were just ancillary, they�ll be jailed for a bit then released with a Contract forced on them. Only be the ones who killed or took direct part will be made serfs and put under guard. And even then, there�s a time limit�well, a Credit limit.�

�What�s to stop them from adding fines and charging more?� Ingrid asks, eyes narrowed. �There�s a lot of loopholes in that system.�

�Because we won�t allow it,� Ali says firmly, meeting Ingrid�s eyes. �Lana, Katherine, Kim, and I have all gone through their documents. And we�re keeping an eye on it.�

�And they let us?� Sam says with surprise.

�Well, let�s just say that there�s more than one faction in play,� Lana says with a slight smile.

I blink, curious how the lady managed to get all this done. I mean, we�ve barely had a few hours all in.

The team reluctantly let the topic drop. It�s not real justice, but in this world, it�s the best we can do. For all that we might dislike the concept of slavery, they did start the damn fight. And tossing people, no matter how self-serving, arrogant, and idiotic, into prison would be a waste of resources when we desperately need all hands on deck. Prison would not just cost us the prisoners, but we�d need prison guards too. Better to use the System controls to get them to work for us. And who knows, maybe a little punishment might smarten them up.

And leeches might fly.

Later that evening, Lana and I are seated on the couch overlooking the large backyard in Lana�s house in Richmond in the Lower Mainland. Rather than sticking around the town, I Portalled us back to the large ex-farmland that Lana had purchased in the suburb for her use. The ample fenced grounds offer a convenient place for the puppies to stretch their legs. Considering their husky breeds, that�s a necessity.

�This is for you,� I say, waving slightly to pull the small cardboard box from my Altered Space.

Lana frowns, staring at the box before she opens it to reveal the small paper charm with words of unknown origin on them. �This is�?� Lana frowns.

�Pick it up,� I say.

When she complies, the item information appears.

Talisman of Teleportation (Tier III)

Upon use, the talisman will either transport user to anchored location or to a random, safe teleportation location within 5km of the user�s origin.

�How�?�

�Loot from Calgary,� I reply. �Congratulations, Beast Master.�

�Oh!� Lana flushes, smiling slightly. �I didn�t think you�d noticed.�

Lana Pearson (Beast Master Level 1)

HP: 420/420

MP: 620/620

Conditions: Bestial Senses, Linked x 4

�I did. Just didn�t have much time to congratulate you during the fight,� I say. �I take it you�ve switched the experience gain to something more balanced?� Lana nods, confirming my guess. �What�re the Skills like?�

�Different. Sort of,� Lana says with a shrug. �Three trees. The first buffs me�the usual but better increases to my personal Skills and survivability. There�s even an option to take control of swarms or hives in there. The other two options are divergent in their needs. I guess you could say the first is an evolutionary option. Here��

Forced Evolution (Level 0)

Forcibly causes a pet to undergo an evolution. Evolution will (generally) be beneficial to the pet. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently

�Not much explanation,� I mutter, dismissing the notice. �And the other?�

Biological Overdrive

Increases biology of pet by 300%. Attack, speed, defense, and damage values will increase during overdrive period. Pets will suffer a negative exhaustion effect after overdrive duration is complete.

Duration: 10 Minutes

Cost: 250 Mana per pet

�Is that title correct?� I frown, staring at the Skill�s title.

�Translation issues, boy-o,� Ali says, shaking his head. By this point, both of us have gotten used to the damn Spirit randomly floating in when he feels like it. Thankfully, after forcibly banishing the Spirit twice for intruding when he shouldn�t, he�s stopped coming in while we�re otherwise intimately engaged. �Not everyone has me cleaning up their UI.�

�The other Skills are similar,� Lana says, ignoring the byplay between us. �Basically, I can push my pets to be more powerful for a short period or chance evolutions and other changes on them, giving them longer-term effects. But they don�t seem to be as powerful.�

�Mostly,� Ali agrees. �It�s an option between long-lasting effects or guaranteed hard-hitters. Though you sometimes get a little of the second with the evolutions. They can get weird.�

I grunt. Considering some of the strange and less-than-successful evolutions we�ve seen�more often as corpses�I have to agree with Ali on that. Still, considering how much Mana and the number of evolutions that happened, the ratio of �good� to �bad� mutations is incredibly favorable. The fact that these evolutions don�t seem entirely random has generated a significant amount of discussion in my books, some of which I�d gained a few upgrades to my System Quest by reading. The general consensus is that either the Mana or the System self-selects for successful mutations, which lends to the belief of intelligent design behind these actions. A cruel intelligence though. There seems to be a small but significant number of random mutations that are neither beneficial nor benign but just weird.

�What did you choose?�

�I haven�t,� Lana says softly, doubt creeping into her voice. When I stay silent, Lana is forced to fill in. �I don�t want to hurt them. But��

�But the evolutions could do that too,� I say, and she nods. Even now, the woman still visits the little girl we left Elsa with, when she can convince me to Portal her up. It�s touching, if a little worrying. Sometimes, I wonder how much more pain that big heart of hers can take.

�Yes,� Lana says, leaning her head against me again. �What should I do?�

I don�t answer, just giving her a squeeze. Even if I want to talk, to advise, I�ve learned my lesson and bite my tongue. Literally. Sometimes, women just want to talk.

It�s into that comfortable, if morose, silence that Kim�s notification appears.

�REQUESTING AUTHORIZATION TO USE FUNDS TO ASCERTAIN ALTERATIONS IN SETTLEMENT MARKETPLACE.�

�What?� I say out loud.

�REQUESTING AUTHORIZATION TO USE FUNDS TO ASCERTAIN ALTERATIONS IN SETTLEMENT MARKETPLACE.�

�I got that,� I snarl then draw a breath, forcing down my irritation. No point getting angry. It�s a machine. Sort of. �I meant, what alterations?�

�UNKNOWN. REQUISITION FUNDS TO��

�We got that, bits-for-brains. Boy-o wants to know what alterations you�re seeing,� Ali says.

�RECENT PRICE FLUCTUATIONS IN QUANTUM STABILIZERS AND ANTI-TELEPORTATION SHIELDS,� Kim says.

A moment later, a graph pops up with so many lines on it, my eyes blur trying to read it.

�We got it, bits-for-brains. Authorized,� Ali says.

�UNABLE TO ACCEPT AUTHORIZATION FROM LOWER ELEMENTAL FORM.�

�I�ll give you lower��

�Ali.� I cut him off before I say slowly, �Why are you tracking this? I thought you were limited to the settlement?�

�A REQUEST FOR INFORMATION FROM THE LOWER ELEMENTAL FORM WAS DEEMED TO OFFER AN ACCEPTABLE RETURN ON THE RESOURCES DEDICATED TO SUCH TRACKING,� Kim says. �REQUESTING AUTHORIZATION TO UTILISE SETTLEMENT FUNDS.�

Once I parse the answer, I shrug. �Do it.� Then I turn to Ali. �Explain?�

�Not much to explain, boy-o. You know what anti-teleportation shields are. Quantum stabilizers do the same, but they include things like your Quantum State Manipulator. There�re a bunch of variations of course, from single-activation stabilizers to on-going fields,� Ali says. �I figured since you�ve purchased the QSM again and are waiting for its delivery, and with your Skills, it�d be a good idea to make sure the cities we�re going into aren�t utilizing it. Don�t want to jump into a place that is quantum locked. It�d be real painful. Or deadly.�

�We can tell that from this�?� I say, frowning at the graph that hasn�t disappeared.

�No idea about the graph. I just bought some information on the next few cities,� Ali says. �Looks like bits-for-brains took it a step further.�

�DATA CONFIRMED. ASSESSMENT IS THAT SETTLEMENTS WITHIN NORTH AMERICA HAVE SEEN A SIGNIFICANT INCREASE IN PURCHASES OF ANTI-TELEPORTATION AND QUANTUM STABILIZERS.�

�John?� Lana says, frowning as she reads the information Kim and Ali have so kindly shared to her.

�It�s like this, Lana,� Ali says. �They�re taking steps to stop John from bouncing around inside their cities or dropping an army on their doorsteps. Skills that involve spatial distortions, like his Blink Step and Portal, are going to be seriously degraded. Depending on the level of interference, it�s either going to be impossible, seriously curtailed, or just painful to use.�

�Painful?�

�Certain quantum stabilizers only react on use of the Skill. They disrupt the actual teleportation, damaging those transported.�

�Nasty,� I say with a wince.

�Yup. They�re also the most common,� Ali says. �Cheaper to purchase an occasional trigger piece than a whole anti-teleport field, you know?�

�Yeah,� I say, rubbing my chin. This isn�t good news. Not at all. It looks like our actions have caught some attention. �How much damage are we talking?�

�Depends on the field. Anything from a couple of hundred health points to a few thousand.�

�So, no jumping.�

�No jumping.�

�We need to tell the colonel,� Lana says softly.

I nod. Ah hell, I bet he�s going to make me do the US next. Still, maybe Voodoo Donuts survived�

Wier takes the news with equanimity. Seated in his office alone, his table is bare but for a cup of coffee when we arrive. Soon afterward, his aide comes in to take notes while we inform him of the bad news. Since Sam had promised to work with the army�s mechanics on a new project, he tagged along when we went down, leaving Mikito and Ingrid to their solo adventuring efforts.

�I have news of my own,� Wier says after he digests the information. �Fort Irwin and Camp Pendleton both survived the System changeover and have contacted us. We have begun further coordination, though contact is via messenger. Forces around these bases have joined together, including the remnants of the Edwards air force detachment, the marines of 29 Palms, and various navy services. Unfortunately, the navy were the hardest hit among our men, with significant losses in equipment and personnel. They are currently in battle with the local alien forces known as the Zarrie.

�In addition, our efforts at aiding Portland have resulted in significant progress at whittling down the enemy�s forces. We�I�expect to see a significant increase in pressure on the resistance in the next few weeks.�

�You want me to go down and tag their land, don�t you?� I state.

�Yes.�

�It seems like we�re reacting more than planning recently,� Lana says, frowning. �We did Edmonton and Calgary because John wanted to free them and they were close. You helped us because that was part of the agreement, our Skills and men in trade for yours. But now, instead of continuing down south from there or farther east, we came to deal with Seattle. Now we�re going down to Portland?�

�The battlefield is fluid, Ms. Pearson,� Wier says calmly.

�Maybe, but I�d think you would have more of a plan,� Lana says, an unspoken accusation in her voice.

�You are perceptive, Ms. Pearson,� Wier says then raises a hand to make a call.

In a few minutes, Captain Angus Tyrell joins us and the table hosts a projection of the map of North America. Friendly settlements are coded green, hostile settlements are red, and those currently contested are yellow. Pretty much the entirety of the eastern seaboard is red with dashes of yellow, while the Midwest is a mixture of reds and yellows. The western seaboard is obviously what we�re dealing with, and it�s a mixture of reds, yellows, and of course, our greens. Overall, the greens are extremely rare, with most of those located in smaller towns and one large clump in the southern USA.

Silence descends as Wier lets us peruse the map, and I spot some interesting notes. Woodbridge, Virginia, yellow. Ashland, Oregon�a weird half-green, half-red coloration. A quick perusal shows it�s Galactic-owned and neutral to humans. Meeker, Oklahoma, green. Hardin, Illinois, red.

�As you can see, most of our country�and yours�is held by others. Of these settlements, even fewer have an active resistance. You�ll note that Los Angeles and southern USA have the highest number of such resistance cells,� Wier says, waving his fingers down the map.

�Not exactly true,� Sam says, pointing upward to our Midwest, where many places glow yellow.

�Yes, but those settlements have smaller populations. Very small,� Wier says. �In addition, many of these locations with resistance are backed up by members of our armed forces, the national guard, and members of the police and security services.� A slight pause before a half-smile. �As much as there might be complaints about our armed forces and the militarization of our police force, in instances like this, it is particularly useful.�

�You want us to go through Portland, LA, and then back up to each of these resistance cities?� I say softly, flicking my gaze along them.

Sam is right, there are a few towns and settlements�including a few greens�that we could free in Regina and Manitoba. But their numbers don�t compare at all. If we punch east from LA, we could link up with a bunch of greens and yellows, rather than the frightening bloc of red farther north. I absently note that more than a few places in the middle of the States seem to host some really nasty monsters.

�We have more people. And well-trained ones. We can�t afford to wait. Our enemies are already reacting to our growing strength,� Wier says. �The faster we are able to grow, the safer we all will be.�

�And how about what�s happening in Ontario?� Sam asks.

�Ontario?� I mutter while Lana�s face grows fixed.

�It is tragic, but this is the most efficient use of our resources,� Angus answers.

�Efficient? Do you know what they�re doing? The Galactics in Ontario are worse than the Thirteen Moon Sect. At least those assholes played nice. These guys are just shipping people wholesale to other planets and importing their own instead. If we keep this up, in less than a year, they�ll have gotten rid of the majority of the population!� Sam snaps.

�And in Italy, the aliens are shooting anyone who tries to hide in their cities,� Angus says. �In Kenya, for fighting back, they sold the settlement keys so that there are no more safe zones at all, other than a few Galactic-owned ones. In Borneo, there�s less than 0.1% of the population left because the entire jungle has mutated into a Level 200+ location. What�s your point?�

I twitch, listening to the list of calamities. For all the good that we do, it�s a drop in the ocean. Ever since people got a little more funds, they�ve been picking up information about our world�real information, not rumors�and learning about the tragedies that await us. It�s something I�ve tried to avoid myself�an ostrich�s choice to keep myself sane. There�s nothing I can do about most of it, so I can only soldier on.

�We can save Ontario, unlike those places,� Sam says. �That�s my point.�

�And linking up with our men around Los Angeles will allow us to act on multiple cities at once. Right now, we have to stop and reinforce each city with nearly all of our men until things stabilize because we do not have enough. With more units, we can continue to our attacks,� Wier repeats.

�LA also has a large economy,� Lana pipes up. �If we can get access to their funds, we can divert some of it to building defenses in other cities, just like we�re doing in BC. We could even set up teleportation gates between each city, giving us a way to reinforce them that doesn�t rely on John.�

I grunt, knowing that�d be useful. It�d fix the issue about bad roads and logistics, though the upfront cost involved is staggering. Rebuilding the defenses, upgrading each city, and making sure the settlements work is important. While fixed defenses will never be as important or as good as trained personnel, that�s no excuse for leaving the gates open either. Especially in a Dungeon World.

�Fine,� Sam says, sitting back and crossing his arms.

I�m slightly amused, though I do my best to hide it. For all of Sam�s protests, it�s not as if this was his choice. I�m the idiot who has to drive everywhere to get the Portals set up. Still, I�m glad to see he�s passionate.

�Then we�re agreed. Portland is next,� Wier says with finality. �We�ll make sure you get briefed on the city and the others further below. I�m particularly concerned about the Zarrie in LA. They�re one of the worse groups from what we gather.�

�Thank you,� I say softly. Information is good. If we�re going to liberate this continent, the more information we can gather, the better. So yeah, Portland is next.

Chapter 10

It says something about humanity that we went through an apocalypse in which our libraries and schools burned down and our government institutions were trampled and lost, but this building that provides deep-fried, sugary goodness is the first thing we rebuilt. Biting into the mocha-covered donut of heaven, I survey the battlefield.

The fight for Portland was less of a grind than what we faced in Calgary. Rather than fight a running urban battle, the Movana clan that owned the city had focused their forces at each of the City Cores. So while each fight had been more brutal, with a higher number of losses than in Calgary, they had been more contained and gone faster. Once we managed to knock down a good portion of their forces, most of the Movana gave up. It helped, I think, that Ali and Kim had started sharing our serf-of-war conditions, stating the conditions and prices for buyback. Wier had muttered something about Italy and condottieri when he heard about it, but hadn�t directly objected.

�Are you going to share?� Colonel Wier asks then promptly helps himself to the box of donuts on the picnic table that someone dragged all the way here. The greying older man looks around for a chair and, finding none, settles himself into a standing relaxed posture.

Behind Weir, his bodyguards glance at the donuts longingly but don�t make a move.

�Looks like I don�t have to,� I say.

�Good. Because I wasn�t going to ask,� a jovial voice calls. A moment later, a delicate black hand grabs a donut before it�s slid into large, luscious lips. �If anyone makes a joke, I�ll personally beat them till they�re bleeding from all their holes.�

�Firstly, pretty sure you just made the joke yourself, Chief. And secondly, isn�t that police brutality?� I say, grinning at the uniformed officer of the law.

�I�ll put the report in myself. Pretty sure the DA will get around to it in a few decades.�

The chief grins and I snort, regarding the woman and her blood-splattered, burnt, and gooey uniform. It still fits her quite well, emphasizing the decent-sized bust and toned waistline. Considering it�s unlikely she got it fitted since the System, she must have been pretty fit even before the System added its cosmetic changes. Her hair woven into a series of braids, the African American chief seems to be reveling in the sugary goodness, even going so far as to lick the cream off her fingers.

After a moment, I cast Cleanse on her uniform, wiping away the blood and grime at least.

Danielle Fuller (Sargent of the Guard Level 7)

HP: 1230/1230

MP: 1380/1380

Conditions: Sense of the City

�Got to get that spell,� Danielle says with a smile, shaking her head. �Got to get the department the spell. Do those slackers some good.�

�Well, we are hoping that there�s a lot less of this,� I say, glancing around the city. There�s not much damage from our battles, but the on-going guerilla warfare that Danielle and her people conducted shows in the shattered buildings all around us.

�I�ve been dying to ask. Why are you all wearing your uniforms?� Ali says, shaking his head. �I mean, sure, Ingrid told you when we�d do this, but it�s not exactly useful.�

�Why shouldn�t we? We�ve been hiding who and what we are for the last year. I�ll be damned if I let my people hide a day longer. We�re not thieves. We�re the police,� Danielle says with sudden heat, making Ali blink and float backward.

After a moment, he raises his finger and points at the box of donuts. �You definitely need more sugar.�

I smack myself on the forehead, realizing that after spending all this time with me, Ali might have a warped notion of why humans get angry. �Ali, not every problem can be solved by the addition of sugar��

�Just yours,� Lana says sweetly as she snags a donut.

I growl at her without any heat. �Out of curiosity, if we�re all here, who�s running the war?� I cock my head to the side to see if I can hear any additional explosions.

�That�s what I have subordinates for,� Danielle says with a sniff before she regains her seriousness. �It�s all mop-up right now. The elves aren�t even trying to fight back anymore. We just have to find them before they get away.�

�Good to know,� I say with a nod. Considering I�ve not been asked to shuttle anyone for the last half hour, I figured it was something like that. �What�s the butcher�s bill?�

�Within acceptable limits,� Wier says and, with a slight twitch of his eyes, indicates the surroundings and our audience.

Oops. Perhaps I�ll wait for the actual report later. Or just ask Ali. Part of hanging out and joking is to improve morale, to let people know that things are returning to normal. Either that or they really wanted the donuts.

An older, portly gentleman coughs to draw our attention before flicking his gaze to the box of donuts. �And mine�s twenty Credits.�

�Dear, I forgot my wallet�� Lana says.

I roll my eyes, mentally triggering the command to send the Credits over. Well, that�s another city down at least.

Hours later, we�re in a meeting room that�s been cleaned and cleared. Scorch marks and gaping holes are filling in at a rate that if you looked away and back after a little while, the change would be noticeable. Around the table, Lana, Sam, and myself are seated. On the opposite side, there�s the colonel, Captain Tyrell, and their aides, as well as a new addition�Romeo, a Combat Engineer. From what I recall, it was their people and their fortifications, along with Danielle�s core of officers, that kept the resistance in Portland alive. Danielle is here too, as the third spoke in the wheel, along with Portland�s current civil leader, an ex-deputy mayor. He�s dressed in Adventurer chic, auburn hair buzzed cut and eyes hard and weary from the battle. He was the one who was willing to lead from the frontlines, something I have to admire somewhat. Up in the Mages� portion of the table, Charles sits silently by himself, content to listen for now.

�Did you have to destroy the shield generators and the quantum stabilizers?� Philip, the ex-deputy mayor, complains. �It�s going to cost us nearly as much to fix them as to buy them new!�

�Your techies were taking too long,� Wier says. �The entire plan hinged on our ability to shift our forces around swiftly.�

�But if we�d had another five minutes, we�d have finished!�

�Your people said that five minutes earlier. I made a military decision, as is my right,� Wier states, making Philip flush a bit. �Now, I believe we�re here to discuss our next steps?�

�We need you here for a few weeks more at least. Even if we do set up deals with a Guild, like you suggest, it�ll take them time to send their people over. And if the elves hit us again�� Danielle shakes her head. �We don�t have enough people, not alone, to handle them.�

�We can give you a few days. My men need to rest and refit,� Wier says. �But we need to continue our push. While my men can handle the smaller towns without significantly degrading our forces and the addition of Romeo�s sappers has been good, we need more trained men. Do you have any further leads about the armed forces?�

�Hey! Boy-o here can still kick any of your men�s butts,� Ali says challengingly.

�Mr. Lee is an exception. While we are still adapting our tactics to the System, trained soldiers can and will win against undisciplined warriors,� Angus replies for Wier, meeting the spirit�s gaze challengingly.

I groan silently as the pair start up again. Ever since they had a chance to actually talk, they�ve been like oil and water. �Ali��

�Captain.�

The pair shut up before they can get truly started.

�Well, it�ll take me a few days to continue my sweep anyway. I�m assuming we�re still looking to link up with the bases and cities down south?� I say, looking at Wier.

�Yes. Any luck on expanding your radius?� Wier asks, leaning forward.

�It�s possible, but I�m leery of dedicating it right now,� I say with a shrug.

Wier purses his lips but doesn�t push it. After all, Skill point distribution is a private matter and something that has already developed a series of social taboos. Not pushing people into allocation is a big one.

�And purchasing it?� Angus asks.

�It�s viable,� I say.

In truth, it�s a lot more than viable. Since the System allows me to purchase the Advanced Skill because it�s part of my Class but still registers my Levels on the �basic� status, the pricing is infinitely cheaper for me than for anyone else. Truth is, I was getting it cheap if I bought the Skill. Relatively speaking. A mere sixty-five thousand Credits for the next Level and another seventy for the one after that.

�But you haven�t picked it up yet?� Wier asks with a frown.

�No,� I say. �None of your jumps have required it as yet, and we�re pretty sure information about my Status has been purchased a few times already.�

Picking up the next Level would give me a range of around five thousand kilometers, while the fifth Level would let me open a Portal anywhere on Earth with a range of over twenty-five thousand kilometers. After that, the numbers get even more ridiculous. My only concern is those anti-teleportation devices�the farther away the Portal, the easier it is to destabilize the transmission. There�s a formula that lets you figure out the potential additional cost of holding a stable Portal open against interference, but it�s the kind of math that they give to PhD students, not ex-web programmers.

�Then when will you be able to continue, Mr. Lee?� Wier says.

I find myself grimacing, knowing that what he�s asking is when can I get to the army bases in California so that he can set up some reliable and immediate communication. They can still run their people out the old-fashioned way, especially since my Skill is no longer hidden, but in terms of easy, fast communication and responsiveness, I�m the go-to guy.

�Give me a day,� I say after a moment. Ah hell, I always wanted to see San Francisco.

Of course, getting to San Francisco wasn�t a straight drive. There were a few cities on the way, places that I had to deal with. Salem was a battleground as the remaining Galactic holdouts from Portland pushed back against our people. Neither party was willing to throw down completely, so everyone took potshots at each other and called it a day. Rather than get too involved, I stayed to the outskirts, and even then, I got shot at.

For the next few towns, I do much the same, swinging inward enough to get the notification that I�ve entered their territory but never getting too close. Eugene is weird, run by an advisory council with a strange, peaceful mixture of about six different Galactic groups and three human factions. The Galactics are a group of crustacean-like creatures with pincer or pincer-like hands and shell coverings and a sponge monster. Two of their species can�t survive in the open air, using a mixture of technology and magic to keep themselves wet and alive. Luckily for me, the first group I meet in Eugene has a mixture of humans and Galactics, ensuring that we don�t start our relations in a violent manner. Once they work out that I�m not a threat, they make some introductions between the town administrators and me before leaving me with a short, bottle-blond twenty-year-old.

�And you�re okay with all this?� I say, glancing around the quiet restaurant we�ve taken over.

�Definitely. Portland might have problems, but Im�in�ee are cool. They be refugees from the third Dungeon World. They�re scrappers and runners. We be a good place to settle and chill, you know?� Oz says as he rubs his hands together, pleading with me to understand.

�Sounds like the Yerrick,� I say softly.

With all my anger against the Galactics and the System, it�s easy to forget that others have been crushed under the System�s relentless expansion, its heartless judgment of worth without a shred of mercy. We are all playthings under the System, cogs in a machine.

�The who?�

�Yerrick. Alien minotaurs,� I answer with a half-smile. �Nice, honorable group. If weird.�

�Don�t know about honor, but the Immies are real,� Oz says with a firm nod, almost daring me to contradict him.

�I get it,� I say, bowing my head to him. �But I�m just a messenger. I�ll open a Portal, let you speak with the ones you really have to convince.�

�Fair,� Oz says. �You got any deetz on them?�

�Just tell it like it is,� I say.

Not long after that, I make my way back to report on matters and pop open a Portal so that Lana and others can get involved. Even Katherine makes an appearance, my personal pair of eyes and ears and a precious note-taker in the upcoming negotiations.

Leaving others to deal with the negotiations, I keep driving south. There�s no real rush, but sitting around a conference table and chatting is my version of hell. I�m more than happy to leave it to others while I take the time to deal with any monsters and dungeons I run into. There�s no point in going fast, especially since my backup teams aren�t ready. Not yet.

After that, my journey is a passage of small town after small town, most of them feeder settlements for the bigger cities. Whether it�s the higher density of people that brought about the monsters or just bad luck, most of these settlements are worse for the wear. Many of the towns are abandoned, and those that aren�t are filled to the brim with refugees from other locations. Only a couple are actual Villages, their City Cores owned and managed by others.

Where there are no City Cores, I find myself opening up my Portal and sending the survivors to Seattle. We�re dumping them into the football stadium, a spot specially designated and upgraded to take newcomers. Wier even made me go all the way to Harbor Island in Seattle so that I�d have a place to Portal in unwanted guests if I�m ever forced to. He had a group of his people take the time to set up a minefield on the island, along with using Benjamin�s Architect abilities to create a sturdy, reinforced wall. All in all, it�s an idea that I had Ben steal for the rest of our settlements.

Since my goal is mostly to make my way south to give the colonel and his people more choices in their attacks, I�m trying to avoid getting into full-out fights. As such, while I�m not happy about locating a number of settlements owned by Galactics, I don�t necessarily step up to deal with them. Wier and his people will eventually take them, with or without my help.

When I�m passing near another tiny town whose name I can�t even be bothered to remember, I get jumped. A group of Pooskeens, nasty little dog-like creatures, dogpile me a mile out of the settlement. I find myself fighting for my stuff, Sabre doing donuts and firing the Inlin under my mental command while I alternately punch, kick, and stab at the small, furred monsters. For all their lack of size, their teeth are sharp and their knives even sharper.

�Hit me!� I snarl, fed up as I throw away one Pooskeen to just have another two jump on me.

Ali doesn�t even hesitate�that little asshole�before he throws a bolt of electricity at me. And keeps throwing it. With my Class resistances and my increased resistance from my Elemental Affinity, it hurts enough to make me scream rather than being the teeth-clenching, nerve destroying event it should be. Once I can focus, I Blink Step straight into the air and spin around to lob a fireball at the space where I used to be. Sabre cooks, but its flame resistance has gone up enough that it�s a minor thing.

After that violent introduction to the Pooskeens, I call Wier�s people and my team together and we conduct a little clean-up. There�s no quarter given or asked�the stripped bare bones and metal cages filled with humans hanging around town drive away anyone�s desire for such mercy. The soldiers and Carlos are left to keep the survivors safe while the rest of the team go hunting. We go through the town quick and violent, the swarm of defensive drones hacked and destroyed by Sam.

�John, southwest corner of the map,� Ali says to me as we finish with our latest batch of annoying rugrats.

�I see it,� I say, frowning. A half-dozen dots moving very fast.

�If I�m not wrong, that�s the settlement owner. High-Level Advanced fighter, a Pooskeen Red Fur and his people,� Ali continues.

The others tilt their head toward him, listening to our conversation.

�They�re running away?� I frown.

�Got it in one. You need to choose�take him and his people on or take the city.�

�Why can�t we do both?� Sam growls.

�Two reasons. You�ll need everyone to stand a good chance of winning. And the Red Fur�s set the power generators and shield to overheat. I figure you�ve got about three minutes to get to the City Core and fix it,� Ali says, grimacing. �But I wouldn�t trust my numbers. I�m not exactly the tech guy.�

�The city,� I say without hesitation. �Ali, can you highlight where Sam needs to go? Maybe he can fix the power generators directly. I�m assuming that�ll cause the most damage.�

�Oh yeah, send me to get cooked immediately,� Sam mutters softly. �I�m too old for this shit.�

�Probably,� Ali says, though he doesn�t sound confident. Still, a new glowing dot appears on the minimap while a second, less bright one appears on nearly the opposite side of the town. �Second one is the shield generators.�

�Sam, Ingrid, and Lana. You�re on the power generators,� I order.

There�s no wasted time as the pair and the puppies peel off while I hope that Ingrid is following. If not, I�m sure she�s off doing something useful. For a moment, my mind offers the image of Ingrid lazing around on a rooftop with martinis and a beach umbrella while we fight, making pithy comments, before I shove away the irrelevant thought. �Mikito, we�re going to speed things up.�

�Yes,� Mikito�s agreement trails along behind her as she takes off running, headed straight for the City Core.

I have to speed up to catch up with the Japanese woman punching her way through the weak resistance with ease. Even then, with my Thousand Steps and occasional Blink Steps helping cover ground, we�re nearly too late.

�Eleven seconds,� I say, shuddering.

Whether it was because the asshole Pooskeen has not read the Evil Overlord list or he is just a sadistic bastard, there is a giant countdown timer when we finally make it to the City Core. Luckily, actually deactivating the self-destruct sequence is easy. I just have to stand there with my hand on the City Core until it finishes registering my new ownership, then I cancel the orders.

�Eh, it wouldn�t be that bad,� Ali starts.

�THE SPIRIT IS CORRECT. THE DAMAGE DONE TO YOU WOULD ONLY BE SUFFICIENT TO REQUIRE A WEEK OF REPAIRS FOR SABRE. YOUR ALLIES WOULD LIKELY ALL SURVIVE.�

�And the human survivors?�

�COLLATERAL DAMAGE.� Kim answers.

�So how is it that you�re down here?� I decide to change the subject before anyone else picks up on it. While the notifications can normally only be seen by me and anyone else Kim decides to show them to, there�s no guarantee his notifications can�t be intercepted. While Kim can fake empathy, its occasional lapses can be jarring.

�UPGRADES AUTHORIZED BY BENJAMIN, THE COUNCIL, AND LANA TO YOUR SETTLEMENTS HAS INCREASED MY OPERATING CAPACITY AND LIMITS. WITHIN NORTH AMERICA, I AM ABLE TO ACCESS OWNED SETTLEMENTS AND AID IN THEIR DEVELOPMENT.�

�Nice,� I say. �Okay, well, start putting together a list of what we should upgrade here. I�m thinking the usual beam turrets, drones, and maybe a wall. Keep it within budget. I don�t want to be throwing my Credits into a pit.�

�CONFIRMED.�

�You know, they might not want to stay,� Ali says.

I grunt in understanding. Whatever, Kim�s a computer�it probably would only take a few minutes for him to get that information together.

�John. We need to get the survivors out. Now,� Carlos calls to me on the radio, his voice filled with rage and shock.

�I�ll be there in a bit. Just settling the city��

�No. Portal here and create another for them. We�re getting them out immediately.�

�What�s going on?� I ask.

�They�re shell-shocked and on the verge of a complete breakdown. They don�t believe they�re safe,� Carlos replies. �And I don�t blame them. The survivors in the cage� they were being penned until they signed a Serfdom contract. Those who died from hunger or the beatings were eaten.�

�Eighteen hells,� I swear. That�s frightening. I stare at the City Core for a moment, wishing I had just sold it. �On my way.�

We spend the rest of the day cleaning up, stealing everything the Pooskeens left that�s useable and selling everything that isn�t. We aren�t going to leave anything here, even if we don�t have the time to deal with them properly. Lana and the council have begun organizing a trauma team that can help survivors deal with their problems. They even have a triage process that highlights those who are dangerously unstable for immediate treatment via the Shop. The worst cases I bring along with me, my access to a better and more immediate Shop critical.

�John?� The voice is liquid chocolate to my ears, my body clenching down below as my breath shortens. Damn it.

�Roxley.� I turn from staring at the doorway the child was taken through, too catatonic to move himself, and face the Truinnar.

The Shop has my tab, and Ali�s in the corner, negotiating with his friend for a group discount as we usher in more and more people. I can feel my Credits draining, but I can�t regret it, not really.

�You look well,� Roxley says with a purr, his eyes gliding over my body.

I admit, I check out that tall hunk of blackness for a second, admiring his form. I might still be angry with him over his betrayal in Whitehorse, but that doesn�t alter the fact that he�s pretty. Really pretty.

�What�s this about? You didn�t just turn up here by chance,� I say tightly.

One of the reasons why I rarely see other shoppers is because the time-space laws in this Shop have been messed with. A conversation about it with Foxy the salesperson left my head hurting, but he indicated that while it might seem that time moves differently here, it�s just them adjusting the timelines for when I arrive and leave. It helps keep things exclusive. And thus makes it nearly impossible for there to be a coincidental run-in.

�No.� Roxley takes a seat, staring at me and waiting.

Eventually, I walk over and sit in the lounging chairs across from him.

�I came to speak to you about your actions. And the Zarrie.�

�My actions?�

�You�re no longer a single fighter. You�re the owner of a large number of strategic settlements. It will not be long before your lands draw additional attention,� Roxley says softly.

�And�?� It�s not as if I didn�t know that. Part of the planning for the city includes building out the Tier I & II military / adventurer buildings to add security forces to the important settlements. As the other settlements upgrade to Towns and more, we�ll be adding additional buildings. On top of that, we�ve already started specializing the cities to some extent. Places like Kelowna are focusing on production, while Vancouver itself is fast becoming a hippy, urban dungeon delving / military town.

�And you�re seeking to begin a battle with a new Empire,� Roxley says, leaning forward. �One that is closely allied to the Movana. Your new allies.�

�My new allies?� I say with an eyebrow raise.

�Please. Do not act as if you do not know what your actions with the Burning Leaves meant.�

�And�?�

As I keep playing dumb, I see the flash of irritation in Roxley�s eyes, gone so fast that only someone who has spent so much time with him would notice. Time having dinner, talking, sparring, kissi� actually, not that last part. Dragging my mind back to matters at hand, I pay attention to the dark elf. A part of me wonders why I�m daydreaming so much, another says that it�s because it�s been a bit since Lana and I had some time together, and with the death I�ve seen� well, it�s a normal reaction to my hormones.

�You know that Earth is in the Truinnar�s sphere of influence. What you might not understand is how close you are to our borders. It is disputable if Earth lies with us or the Movana. That dispute was put to rest in the courts, and we were meant to take your planet when the System came online. But�� Roxley waves as if to encompass everything that has happened in the last year and a half.

�That didn�t happen. You suggesting the Movana did something?�

�I would not defame them in such a manner,� Roxley states primly. �My point is that as a Dungeon World, your planet is considered a neutral ground. All races, all species from the Galaxy may enter it. Of course, those whose borders lie close to your world are the most interested.�

�The Movana and Truinnar,� I say, nodding. �You�re still not explaining what this has to do with me.�

�You are beginning to swim in deeper waters, John, and your actions can have wider consequences,� Roxley says exasperatedly. �The Zarrie are traditionally allies of the Movana as their planet lies within the Movana�s sphere of influence. Acting against them sets you�and your settlements�at odds. It is unlikely to escalate to a full-out war, but your actions will have consequences. Trade blockades, assassinations, and yes, wars have been fought for less.�

�So I should what? Stop?� I say. �It�s interesting that you�re talking to me about it when the Movana haven�t.�

�I cannot speak for them. I can only recommend that you seek allies before it is too late,� Roxley says. �If you intend to act against the Movana, ally yourself with us.�

�Us. You. The Duchess.�

�My kingdom,� Roxley says, nodding. �We�I�have shown that while we might not be your ideal choices, we are significantly better than some alternatives.� Roxley pointedly looks at the door, making me grunt in acknowledgement. Roxley and the Duchess never went this far. The worse they ever did was set-up Serf contracts, and while I�m not a fan of them, they can be at least be somewhat fair. For all the harm and financial finagling the Duchess did, even her Serf contracts at least played fair. �You cannot, your people cannot, continue to do this alone.�

�You expect me to trust you. After what happened,� I say.

�I did what was best for the city, and I will not apologize for that.�

I grunt. Rather than answer Roxley, I walk toward the exit.

�John��

�I�ll think about it. But for now, I�ve got work to do.�

I open the door without turning around, feeling the anger boil inside me. Because while he might not have a reason to apologize for his actions, there�s no reason why he shouldn�t have apologized to me. But perhaps I�m being petty.

That�s the problem with dealing with Roxley. I can never tell where I stand or what I feel. And so rather than deal with it right now, I walk out. Because I am telling the truth. There�s work to do. There�s always work to do.

As bad as that day was, it has nothing on the next town a few days later. I find myself calling for help, bouncing the call through the limited use communicators we�ve purchased from the Shop rather than opening a Portal. The town of Clinton isn�t even on the No. 5 highway, but I�d seen the map and figured swinging out of my way by twenty minutes would make it easier for the teams when they arrive.

My first hint of something being wrong is the crucified bodies of Galactics dotting the fields and road in. Whoever did it was insistent that crucifixion was the way to go, ripping, tearing, and otherwise forcibly positioning bodies that had more than�or less than�four limbs into the appropriate poses. Worse, a few unlucky bastards were still alive, clamped still and constantly, unwillingly healing from damage as the System �helped� them survive.

�Goblin�s ass. This is wrong,� Ali says as he observes a bug-eyed creature involuntarily flap its wing and click in pain.

�No shit.�

�No, I mean, this is really wrong. Continuous torture without removing an individual from the System�s automatic healing is considered a Class A felony,� Ali says.

�And�?�

�It�s the kind of felony that gets you put on Galactic bounty hunter lists,� Ali says.

Even as he speaks, I�m directing Sabre to the cross and using the anti-gravity plates to get closer to the alien. When it clicks and snaps at me, I ignore it, focusing on the nails driven into its body and wings to hold it aloft. After a moment of hesitation, I conjure my sword and cut and pry the creature free.

More clicks. More trembles.

�What�s it saying?� I grunt, yanking stick-thin feet free.

�Don�t know,� Ali says with a shrug.

�I thought you could translate everything?�

�I�m old, not omnipotent,� Ali snaps. �Also, it�s not as if these guys are all that common.�

�These guys?� I say with a smirk while I pry the nails from creature�s arms, letting myself revel in the fact that Ali is stumped rather than focus on the gruesome task.

Each motion, each removed nail elicits more clicks and occasional whistles. Unfortunately, the poor creature has multiple nails driven through it, probably due to its higher-than-normal Strength factor.

Bent over the creature�s body, I can smell its dry, dusty, and acrid scent, a mix of desert air and sulphur that assaults my nostrils. Each nail I grip is sticky with black blood, stubborn in its refusal to exit without extracting another pound of flesh. Each movement brings forth another series of high-pitched chirps, but even with its arms and wings free, it makes no move to stop me. When I�m done, the creature falls to the ground and lies prone, body shivering as aftershocks ripple through it.

�How many left?� I ask, glancing around the forest of stakes.

�Two more of the bugs. There�s a Hakarta that�s barely hanging on��

�Just the numbers, Ali,� I say, not wishing to hear a list filled with sorrow.

�Seven.�

Out of maybe fifty crosses. I wonder how they found so many Galactics, how they captured them all and did this. But it�s a small matter, unnecessary information.

I reach out my hand, calling forth streams of Mana and weaving it into the universe, tearing a hole that links one location to another. Moments after the Portal solidifies, a soldier exits, rifle held in guard as he scans for threats. I see his tension increase when he sees where I brought him, the rifle coming up further as he readies himself for trouble.

�Get the teams out here. We�ve got people to save and people to kill,� I order the soldier.

He nods and heads back into the Portal, disappearing within seconds. Rather than keep the Portal open, I close it and let the teams gather while I wait. A quick check with Ali indicates that none of the survivors are about to expire in the next hour, which gives us more than enough time.

�Incoming, boy-o,� Ali announces, and I look to where the Spirit points.

In the distance, a group of five are walking toward me, weapons out and ready for use. They don�t seem to be in particular hurry, but they aren�t lolly-lagging either.

�Levels?� I ask Ali. I could try to review each of them individually, but I�d rather stay focused. There�s no guarantee they don�t have their own little tricks.

�Mostly Combat Classers, all in the late thirties and early forties. Two Bandits, one Soldier, a Channeller, and a Biochemist.�

�Channeller and Biochemist?� I frown, hoping for more information. Problem with Classes that are too obtuse is it�s hard to tell what they might come up with.

�Magic user with continual cast specialization. Watch out for explosives and poisons from the Biochemist.�

The bug finally pulls itself together, its wounds closed, though it occasionally still twitches. Though I�m not entirely sure if that is due to the torture or just a facet of its biology. After a moment, the bug dresses itself using a slap-on, liquid-like fabric and pulls a small extending baton from its System inventory. Its thin hands extend again and it loops a string around its neck, the material a flexible plastic-like substance that glows once the final loop is attached.

�Thanks to be given, Savior of the Fallen,� the creature buzzes and clicks before being translated.

�Oh, you�re up. Good. Stay back,� I say quietly.

�Choice sub-optimal, Savior. One desires vengeance.�

I grunt, looking at the bug�s status again.

Ox�imm�qq (Level 31 Merchant)

HP: 593/1080

MP: 780/780

Conditions: Feared, Enraged

�Fine. But don�t get in my way,� I say with a sigh, then I raise my hand as the group ahead of us gets within twenty meters. �You can stop there.�

�I don�t think so,� the salt-and-pepper bearded man with the ball cap replies, his friends spreading out to give each of them a clear shot. They don�t even break step at my warning. �What are you doing damaging our stuff?�

�Did you just call him�it�stuff?� I say incredulously, watching as the two Bandits keep coming.

The leader has a rusted, spiked club in hand. The other Bandit wields a pair of knives that glisten with a greenish tint. The only Soldier drops to a knee, cradling his rifle against his shoulder. The Channeller stops as well, and with my Mana Sight, I can see energy gathering around his arms. Only the Biochemist follows the front line, staying a few steps behind the Bandits.

�You�re one of those alien lovers, aren�t you?� Beardface sniffs and spits to the side, grinning. �Well, don�t worry. We don�t kill humans. We�re just going to teach you not to touch what�s not yours.�

�Could you people be any more stereotypical?� I reply, keeping my hands out to my sides and empty. �And this doesn�t have to end in violence��

Rather than answer me, Beardface dashes forward in a full-out sprint. As he does, his and his friends� bodies blur, losing definition in their edges. He covers the distance between us in seconds, followed by his friend, who is only a few steps behind him. It�d be impressive if I didn�t spar with Mikito on a regular basis. I drop into a reverse lunge, left leg thrust out behind me as I summon my sword to catch the club on my guard. It�s not as effective as you�d think since the club is conical and spiked. The edges of a spike punch into the lightly armored bracers of my arm. On the other hand, the momentum of his sprint drives him fully onto my sword, the blade sliding through his ribs with ease.

I grin, twisting at my hips as I conjure a Blade Strike and rip my sword out of his body, sending an arc of power tearing through his body. His friend appears by his side, thrusting daggers at my exposed body. Out of the corner of my eyes, I watch as the bug launches itself at Beardface, floating through the air as its crackling baton swings toward the Bandit�s head.

Rather than take the hit, I tap into Ali�s viewpoint. A thought later and I Blink Step toward the Soldier, my blade plunging into his body as I fall. As I land, my free hand snaps out sideways and the Portal opens right behind the Channeller. Too focused on his spell, the mage doesn�t see the Portal, his hands clapping as a black shroud falls over my body, trapping me within. It squeezes, attempting to crush me while robbing me of oxygen and my senses at the same time.

Seconds, maybe ten, maybe a hundred, within the inky blackness. It�s hard to tell how much time passes objectively, the only indicator the glow of defunct notifications in my helmet and the beating of my heart. Even my connection to Ali is muted, a buzz at the back of my mind that has fallen to a whisper. As suddenly as the spell took effect, it shatters, bringing too-bright light and the roar of battle.

Miraculously, my Portal is still open, the connection to it somehow having survived the spell. The Channeller is on the ground, bleeding from multiple gunshot and beam rifle wounds as Jess bayonets him. The asshole enemy Soldier I attacked is falling back, firing as two members of Jess�s squad hound him. Meanwhile, Roland and Howard tear into the Bandits and the Biochemist. Mikito and Shadow are crouched over the bug, teeth bared but not attacking as Ali hovers over them protectively.

�Up and at �em,� Sam says as he hauls me to my feet. Around him, his drones circle in a spiralling pattern, not taking part in the fight yet. �I�m already picking up activity in the town.�

�Keep an eye on them,� I say, glancing at the soldiers, including Jess, who has made his way to me. �Get your men on taking down the Galactics. Ali will mark those alive for you.�

�Copy that,� Jess says, assigning his men to the job immediately.

Others are sent to set up a perimeter for the incoming forces. Wride is among the perimeter scouts, jogging forward in an easy trot. Lana walks up to me, making a face.

�What are you guys doing here?� I mutter softly. I�m surprised to see the entire team here, since I figured most of them had better things to do than wait around for me to contact them.

�Luck. We were having lunch after Mikito�s and my meeting with Wier,� Lana says as if she�s afraid to raise her voice. �John, those bodies��

�Yeah. We�ll deal with it. And them.� I nod toward the settlement where the gates have reopened.

From the gates, a small group of fighters step forward, armed to the teeth. Around me, the soldiers and my team regroup, ready for another fight.

Maybe it was the fact that we were just too angry, but the resulting battle was a lot simpler than I had expected. Once their main group fell to a combination of concentrated rifle fire and area effect spells, the town itself was devoid of any real threat, the few remaining high Level Combat Classers giving up the moment we stepped through the sundered walls. It�s only later, when we take control of the city, that we realize that the settlement owner and a few of his close allies had already absconded under the shadows of a Skill. This is fast becoming a thing. I make a mental note to get Wier and Lana to look into creating a team to help us deal with that. Until Ali and I upgrade our Skills, we definitely need someone who can pierce these concealment Skills more reliably.

Cleaning up the city, freeing the few rattled and some angry citizens is a simple enough matter. With only a couple thousand survivors, it�s a real question if we should keep the place at all. Between the kind of people involved and the settlement being located in this Level 30 zone that�s hours away from any real help, it�s a decent question. It doesn�t help that even I can tell our presence is resented. After some consideration, I make the smart decision and lob the entire problem over to Jess to hand to Wier, making him the settlement owner for now.

It doesn�t help that we find, in nearly the center of town, this.

�Are you sure the System will fix the damage?� Sam asks Ali for the umpteenth time as he carefully moves the rods into the newly created lead container.

�Yup. Radiation is a low-grade damage over time effect. Your natural regeneration is more than sufficient to fix it. You�d really only need to worry about kids and maybe some real suckers with no points in Constitution,� Ali reassures Sam. �And even then, a swig of Carlos�s potions should fix it.�

�Well, that�d also explain the lack of safety equipment,� I say helpfully.

�Stupidity also does the same,� Sam grouses, looking around the Alchemist�s lab. �Who the hell makes plutonium?�

�Someone wanting their own nuclear warhead,� Lieutenant Marco Sprouse says as he stands by, watching the entire operation diligently.

Outside, his rather relieved team is keeping an eye on the lab and ensuring we�re not interrupted. The Lieutenant was dragged out here from Portland, one of the combat engineers sent to �help� us contain radioactive material. I still find it amusing that Sam�s the one managing said radioactive material though.

�I thought it was pretty difficult to build nukes?� I say, frowning. I mean, didn�t it take the entire brainpower of the States to figure out how to do it in the first place?

�Well, as you�ve pointed out to the Colonel numerous times, everything is for sale,� Marco says and lets me draw the obvious conclusions.

I do, soon enough, my eyes widening. �Shit�� I look at the nonchalant-looking Spirit. �What? What am I missing?�

�Everything important,� drawls Ali. When my eyes narrow, he snorts. �You�re carrying a particle beam rifle over your shoulder, driving on an anti-gravity-driven Personal Assault Vehicle, and regularly throw around lightning while teleporting hundreds of feet. What makes you think a small nuclear explosion is that important?�

�Because they�re nukes?� Sam says as he finishes screwing the container closed.

�It�d destroy most non-System-registered buildings, but even a mildly reinforced System building should be able to stand up to the explosion if the nuke wasn�t System-registered. Most of what you�ve got are the equivalent of Tier IV weapons, dangerous for non-Combatants and Basic Classes�but that�s the same as most of your spells and Skills. I�ll admit, if you built the bomb from scratch and used your Skills, it�d have a little more of a kick�but nothing a good settlement Shield couldn�t stop,� Ali says. �At best, it�d be considered a Tier II weapon.�

There�s a long silence as our worldview takes a beating. The idea that a nuke�a weapon of mass destruction�isn�t really all that powerful in this new world takes some getting used to. Maybe a little more widespread in its basic destructive potential, but a single high Level Advanced Classer could probably tank the damage and dish out more damage over the longer run. Still�

�What happened to the US�s nukes?� I ask the Lieutenant, curiosity burning me.

�I�m not privy to such information,� Marco replies stoically.

�Would you tell me if you knew?� I ask.

�You would not be cleared for that information either,� Marco replies, which leads to an annoyed grunt from me.

Still, the non-answer leads me to believe that not only has the colonel learnt what has happened to most of the US�s nukes, it�s also well in hand. I can�t see him refusing to direct me to one of those earlier if that wasn�t the case.

�We�re going to have to track down the Alchemist who did this,� I say, changing the subject.

�I believe the colonel will agree with your assessment. I�ve requested that Sam use his drones to continue searching for our escapees.�

�I wouldn�t worry about that,� Sam says grimly. �We�ve got a few Bounty Hunters and Trackers who�ll make finding these asses easy. And the military boys have their own police squad. We�ll find them, even if we have to issue a quest.�

�Just make sure they bring enough friends,� I mutter and get a nod.

Now that the radioactive material is safely stored away, the Lieutenant calls in his people to cart it through the newly opened Portal. Within seconds, people are streaming in to help settle the city as well. Getting all this settled will take a while, and for the time being, my presence is needed. It�s just another damn delay on the way south.

Chapter 11

Life never takes you to where you expect it to. After our last disturbing settlement, I�ve reached the Six Rivers, Klamath national forest reserves. Being drawn once more into the leafy embrace of tall, mutated trees is actually comforting. The few settlements that either border or are located within the forest reserves are mostly empty, the few survivors more than grateful to be Portalled somewhere safer.

I could almost believe that the rest of the trip down would be that simple. After all, the settlements nearest a big city get emptied as the survivors flock to the city for mutual support and safety.

It�s at Williams, California, a tiny little crossroads town hours away from Sacramento, that things change once again. The town itself is empty, abandoned buildings and broken-down vehicles telling the usual tale of the apocalypse. No bodies this time though. Not even the rotted remains we expect to find occasionally.

No, what I get is a real, live Galactic sitting in the middle of the crossroads, one with red skin, horns, pointed ears, and a tail. The fact that he doesn�t reach for a gun and is lounging on a bright red, bullet-shaped hovering vehicle clues me in that this will be a more social kind of confrontation. Unsurprisingly, that puts me even more on guard.

�Greetings, Redeemer.�

Dylan Pratma, Grandmaster of the Forge (Level 8 Executive Diplomat)

HP: 2830/2830

MP: 8940/8940

Conditions: Aura of Benevolence, Tier II Pheromones, Shield of the Stars

�Grandmaster?�

�Just a title. He is a Master Class though,� Ali says warningly.

�Greetings, Grandmaster Pratma,� I say with a smile, pulling Sabre to a stop and bringing my helmet down with practiced motions. �I�m going to assume your presence here is not a coincidence.�

�Forsooth, that is the truth of such matters,� Pratma says with a grin, running a hand along the silver-grey suit he wears. Seeing my glance at his clothing, Pratma smiles again. �The dress, the cloth that drapes across your kind�s bodies, speaks to the petals of my vanity, the dressings of success and opulence that man revels in.�

�That�s one of us,� I mutter.

I hate suits. It�s why I worked for a tech company. And what the hell is up with his speech pattern? I almost want to ask him, but I�m not entirely sure what the etiquette is with regard to botched language downloads.

�In this time of darkness, a moment of light is required, a time to speak and perchance come to an agreement of minds. We seek to speak with yourself under the greater aegis of the System and a bond of peace,� Pratma continues, his voice becoming almost rote.

�A� what?�

�Bond of peace. Exactly as it sounds like, boy-o,� Ali explains. �You both promise not to injure one another while you talk. Generally has a duration and other terms and conditions� ah, here it comes.�

I get a notification, one that makes my eyes glaze over. When I shoot Ali a helpless look, the Spirit laughs.

�Boy-o here hates reading. Something simpler would be best.�

I growl softly at Ali over the besmirchment of my good name, but he is effective. The next notification is much shorter, a simple agreement that promises that we�ll talk and not harm each other nor allow each other to come to harm during this conversation and an hour afterward. I agree to it, curiosity driving the decision more than anything else.

�How come the Uvrik didn�t use this for our meeting?�

�What did you think the Contract was? It�s all just variations on the same thing.�

�Gratitude is given to the Redeemer, he who sets to rest those who have fallen, who resolves the wishes of the forsaken and lost. We speak now, if the slayer of beasts will allow, about the peace that reigns in our fair cities and the coming clouds of war, of those who might be lost and those who might be saved,� Pratma says.

I stare at the devil again before coughing and waving for Pratma to continue.

�I come from the city by the bay, the settlement of golden gates, the abode of the fog children and the city of the blessed ritual in the hopes of peace, of an agreement between our two empires.�

�You�re from San Francisco and Sacramento,� I say. Memory of my briefings about the owners of the settlements come back to me, sparse as the details might be. The pair of neighboring cities had been taken and controlled by the same organization, another damn corporation. �You�re part of the Golden Water Corporation�s upper management, aren�t you?�

�In the manner of decisions, in the choices of the actions that the business of the golden liquid might take, it might be said I have some say. Some, those touched by the green-eyed beast, might say that I have more than some, but it is not for one to speak about such minor things. Such words are a hateful bile that erupts from my throat and wipes away all sweet words.�

�Okay�� I wave him on, wondering if we�ll ever get to the point.

�In the time since the coming of the System, since the approach of those starborn, the glimmering dihydrogen monoxide has laid claim to the lands of the golden gate and the blessed ritual. We have provided a shield against the night, a sword against the rapacious. We have given greatly and taken fairly, provided succor for the frail and training for the strong.

�But the clouds of time drift ever onward and the System comes fully birthed, extending its tendrils through all facets. Now, other starborn come in greater numbers, some with needs and desires that encompass all that they see, hear, and smell, seeking to only take from the wealth that flows from the blood of the Mana-evolved. And those native-born to your fair land strike back, seeking safety in numbers and under the glowing barrels of your guns. But it will be insufficient. For the starborn are numerous, like the kelp in the sea, the eggs of the kooma. If there is only blood and death in your path toward peace, only blood and death will you find.�

�And what does that have to do with you?� I say.

�A meeting of minds, an agreement among those more rational. We seek to show you our fine and fair intentions while swearing upon our good names and under the aegis of the System an alliance, one born from fair intentions and future Credits,� Pratma says with a smile, hands spreading to show them open and inviting.

I fall silent, considering what Pratma said. He�s not wrong�we can�t fight everyone. It�s why I pushed for us to talk with the Uvrik corporation in Calgary, why we have tried to come to some agreement with Galactics when we can. I know that the Americans aren�t happy with that, there being a very clear desire to �win� back their land, but Wier seems to understand the strategic implications of an all-out war. Even if we could beat the first wave�and that�s a big if�the second, third, and all the subsequent waves would win out eventually. There�re so many more of them than us that engaging in a constant acceleration of violence can only end in the devastation of our population. At the same time, we can�t afford not to take action, not to push back and acquire our cities.

What Pratma offers, what Roxley has in the North, is a potential solution. My biggest hesitation is the same one that afflicts me in BC right now�the various webs of Galactic politics being unknowable for us. The Movana and Truinnar, the Yerrick, Hakarta, and more. All of them have alliances and deals, and any one such deal we make could draw us into fights we want nothing to do with. Yet we need our people to deal with the real monsters out there. A memory of the previous human-run settlement comes to mind unbeckoned, disheveled survivors and starving children reminding me that the monsters aren�t just among the Galactics.

�This isn�t going to be an easy conversation, you understand? And I�m not likely to be the man you�ll want to speak with,� I say. �But I�ll pass your recommendation up the chain.�

�In the pursuit of peace, admonishments, anger, and abuse are but minor inconveniences. Among the dross and vitriol of words spoken in anger and overflowing emotions, one can find true orichalcum.�

�Ali, what are you doing?� I send to the spirit.

He�s staring at Pratma, hands held up in a small rectangle formation in front of his face. �Recording. This guy�s incredible.�

I roll my eyes at Ali�s answer but nod to Pratma, content to give him a non-verbal answer, partly in fear that he�ll start up again. With a gesture, a Portal appears next to me and I step through it to report on the latest change, Sabre following me. I�m sure someone has plans for this. In either case, having me do the negotiations is probably the worse idea possible.

�John��

�Yes, dear?� I say with a smile later that evening, when we�re alone and picking through the remnants of our dinner. Mmm, barbecued mammoth creature slathered with Yurk butter.

�Why didn�t you warn us about him?� Lana says, just the slightest edge to her voice.

I can�t help but flash her a shit-eating grin, which gets me a pinch. Twisting away, I regret provoking the woman�and that Pratma insisted I stay, at least till a minimal agreement had been made. Something about my ability being a potential danger.

�Didn�t think it was relevant. He�s understandable.� Mostly.

�And the fact that he sounds like he�s from a badly written sixteenth-century play?�

�Is amusing. I�m kind of sad that the agreements are so��

�Business like?� Lana snorts, shaking her head. �Imprecise, flowery language is not something you want in your alliance agreements. Even if they make for more fun reading.�

�Yeah�� I give her a hug. �Thanks for coming.�

�You�re welcome. It made sense to ensure we had some oversight on this. Wier is nice enough, but his people are kind of like you.�

�Except that diplomat.�

�Peter? Yes. We�re lucky he survived. And kept his Class,� Lana says, smiling. �That Skill of his is quite useful.�

�Diplomatic Immunity?� I say. �Complete immunity to damage, targeting, and spells? It�s a bit broken, as Jason would say. If it lasted for longer than a few seconds, it�d be really broken.�

�Do you think we�ll get an agreement?� Lana says, a slightly wistful note in her voice. �It�d be nice to have a couple of big cities on our side, ones that we don�t have to protect. After the Uvrik gave up their portion of Calgary, we�ve mostly been taking over smaller settlements owned by the Galactics. If we can get what they promise�that the humans can help us if they want�we�ll receive a lot of of help without the cost.�

�Aye. San Jose�s going to be problematic though,� I say with a grimace.

�Do you think it�ll throw off the negotiations?�

San Jose is technically a contested city, one that exists in an uneasy cold war with Pratma�s people. Whether we would give it up�if we even have a right to make that decision�is something that would be a sticking point in the negotiations.

�Maybe. Depends on how stubborn everybody is. If the Pratma give up on San Jose, it�d be great. Otherwise, they might have to learn to live with them. If it was just Wier, I�d be more optimistic.� I shrug. �But he�s in contact with his bosses now and I don�t know them. And there�s a lot of pressure to not give up any �American� soil.�

At the last few words, Lana grimace. We�ve both heard such sentiments more than once, sometimes with the American changed to Canadian. It�s no surprise really. No one wants to consider themselves conquered, but perhaps because we lived for over a year with Roxley as the �owner� of Whitehorse, it�s something we can accept. Needs must when the devil drives, and the devil�s on a German autobahn.

�Keep an ear out on this?� I finally say to break the silence and get a nod from Lana.

After a moment, to distract us from the conversation, I kiss her with my hands on her hips, a hand sliding along her waist. In short order, we�re not worrying about the state of the world anymore, our focus on much more immediate and intimate matters.

A week passes in a flash. The first three days I spend stuck in the meetings, forced to listen as they negotiate a basic agreement between all parties. Since I was there, I even signed it, putting the settlements I owned up north into the document. City and myself, all bound by a simple acknowledgement. Once again I shivered at that level of power, that ability to control the lives of so many with so little.

After that, I was allowed to roam while they hammered down more concrete details, like when the first trade caravan could come in, when the first group could visit the cities. Mostly, I spent my time driving around, finding the few last human holdouts, and Portalling them to bigger settlements. There were a few nice surprises. A First Nations�wait, Native American�tribe that had managed to survive by holing up in their casino, along with a bunch of their workers and high-rollers. It highly amused me that the casino was a �Gambling Fort� with some truly strange, chance-based defensive measures. There was a church whose preacher had sacrificed his own Class and Perk to register the building in the System, allowing it to become a sanctuary against the violence and saving the town that had grown up around it. His actions had saved hundreds of people, the megachurch more than sufficient to accommodate them all.

I even spent a day back in BC, taking the time to review my settlements and work with Katherine about new developments. Richmond and Burnaby were now full-fledged Towns, the outlying suburbs a short hop away. With two more Towns, I had the option of joining them into one major Settlement to ease administrative burdens. Of course, I would also lose out slightly on the option of having more ancillary buildings, but the loss wasn�t as great as I feared. Rather than having three, I�d only have two, which meant I couldn�t add another Adventurers Guild till we had at least one more suburb, as Labashi already had his Mercenary Corp in place. Still, after some consideration, I decided to push ahead with it, joining the City Cores of both of those suburbs with Vancouver�s.

Partly, that was to help the City Dungeon grow. Simply put, the City Dungeon fed off the ambient Mana of the settlement it was connected to, allowing refresh rates and size to be dictated by these changes. Since I�d now tripled the size of the settlement, the Dungeon had a much larger area to draw upon and would thus grow faster. There were other ways to develop the Dungeon of course�including dedicating more Mana to it directly�but this was the �cheapest� way to do so in the short-term. The requirements to get more ambient Mana from a fixed location were quite wide-ranging, including Credits, technology, and of course, more Mana. Since actual Credits were a crucial shortfall for our settlements, with a large portion of our on-going income dedicated to rebuilding basic infrastructure, this was the best option.

After that, I had to deal with a few interest groups and the various city councils when they realized what I had done. I let them argue for an hour in the conference room before telling them to suck it up and work out who was going to be in charge of what before I left. It wasn�t particularly nice but I didn�t need to be nice�I just needed it to be effective. In the long-term, it could cause trouble, but really, I wasn�t exactly planning to run the city in the long-term. Owning the settlements was a short-term solution, one that met my own goals but at some point, someone more competent and who actually gave a damn about running it would need to take over.

Visiting Kamloops was a lot more relaxed. Ben and the rest of the council had the city well in hand, and the smaller population meant that there were a lot fewer egos to stroke. While Ben�s current Class only gave him abilities to alter existing buildings and provide short-term boosts, he indicated that his Advanced Class would be able to permanently alter and boost buildings or potentially an entire settlement, depending on which way he went. After some discussion, we ended up assigning him as the Mayor of the Town in a bid to increase his experience gain, as well as potentially open up even more interesting Classes.

As for Kelowna�well, it was doing okay. The farmlands were doing well, and the Adventurer�s Guild had, as promised, provided a significant security force. Mostly, Kelowna was in the development stage, with the focus on clearing out monsters and reclaiming lands, so there was little to report.

The last thing I decided to deal with was a visit to the Shop. The fox was, as usual, attentive to my needs, even if most of what I was picking up was the usual. I did, however, take the time to purchase the upgrades for my Portal Skill and a few others. Doing that took out a large portion of my personal Credits, but considering I was getting further and further away from my settlements, it was a necessary expense. Since I was still waiting for the Quantum State Manipulator to arrive, the Class Skills were more important than picking up a few more toys. A quick glance at the Portal Skill once purchased reaffirmed my decision.

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 25,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

My last meeting of importance in Vancouver was with Wynn. The Burning Leaves guild master had invited me out for dinner, an offer that Katherine made sure I couldn�t refuse. If you�ve never had sushi made by a Sushi Chef with System-mutated ingredients, you are missing out. For most of the dinner, our conversation was benign, revolving around recent Guild-authorized quests and equipment sales. It was only toward the end that Wynn brought up the topic I had been dreading.

�Is there no way for there to be a peaceful resolution to your disagreement with the Zarrie?� Wynn says softly.

�Not the right person to ask. I�m just a hired hand.�

Wynn�s flat stare made me grin weakly. My threadbare excuse was as worthless as a teddy bear without a soul.

�Redeemer, you must understand, the royal family have traditionally been allied with the Zarrie. While the mutual defense agreements do not apply on a Dungeon World, there are consequences to such action.�

�You guys leaving?� I ask bluntly.

�No. The Guild is independent, as you know,� Wynn replies. �But unwarranted aggression against our allies does cast a bad light on your settlements.�

�Unwarranted.� I grunt, shaking my head. �The Zarrie are asses and you know it. They�re petty tyrants, and while they might not be doing the entire System slavery thing, they�re more than happy to beat, blackmail, and kill as they wish. They�re bullies.�

�Political realities often dictate distasteful bedfellows.�

�Good thing I�m not a politician then.� Before Wynn can say anything else, I hold my hand up and stare at the man. �We�ll work with those who are willing to work with us. Who are willing to conduct themselves with grace. Everyone else can burn.�

�And that is the stance of your settlements?�

�I guess it is.�

�Very well.� Wynn falls silent before he points at a purplish slice of sashimi streaked with dark yellow. �Have you tried the Quem fish? I was surprised to find that they are thriving in your English Bay. They are considered a Galactic delicacy��

And with that, the topic is dropped. I still am not sure what, if any, the effects our attack on the Zarrie in LA will have, but in the end, it doesn�t matter. I am not going to back down. I�d rather have a few good, reliable allies than a bunch of political flakes. Even if a part of me considers that entire statement a na�ve belief.

After all that, when the agreement with Pratma is finally signed, I am finally allowed to leave the town�under escort�to travel through the outskirts of Sacramento and head farther south. Lana and the rest of the small diplomatic team actually get to visit the settlement itself, with additional visits to San Francisco planned for later on. The goal, of course, is to verify the information we�ve purchased from the System. There�s nothing like actually seeing things with your own two eyes�especially when it�s possible to have the System �lie� for you with certain Skills. Admittedly, that is a rarer Skill, but it is possible.

Traveling with a pair of guards is interesting. Both have low Level Advanced Classes, but for the actual fighting of the various monsters we encounter, I am on my own. I kind of guess what they are up to, so I keep the use of my Skills to the minimum. Still, when Ali locates a new dungeon, the potential gain from clearing it outweighs any security concerns and I make sure to clear it, Blink Stepping and Inferno Striking through its interior. At the end of the smoking ruins, amid the stench of burnt fur and cooked flesh, I am truly grateful I don�t have to explain the canine and leonine corpses to Lana.

Once I am far enough away from San Jose, my silent companions leave me, allowing me to complete the rest of the trip by myself. The remainder of the trip is routine, filled with wandering monsters, displaced refugees, and the occasional enterprising bandit. Even the big cities like Fresno and Bakersfield are rote exercises in travel and rescue by now.

Thanks to Ali adjusting my Status, I don�t have much trouble entering the city itself. Fresno is interesting in that they aren�t exactly oppressing the humans, but there are more than a few signs of bias shown toward Galactics. Recalling my discussion with Wynn, I make a note of what I see before popping a Portal open for Ingrid and a friend of hers to do some reconnaissance. We�ll decide how far to take it once we have more details.

Bakersfield is more cut-and-dry, another one of those cities that need a helping hand dealing with a bunch of Galactic asses. Rather than fight for a settlement we can�t hold, I just pop open the Portal, drag a few fire teams through, and round up everyone we can before we leave. We leave a single team to stick around and round up anyone else with a short-range communication device to let me know when they need a pick-up. Interestingly enough, the Galactics don�t even try to really obstruct us, sending a few token drones and enforcers while we�re busy pulling people out. It is almost as if they are relieved to get rid of the stinky humans.

All these boring, easy trips change when I turn east and make my way to Fort Irwin.

Chapter 12

I have to admit, I was surprised to learn that Fort Irwin had been both an actual military base and a training center. That means that they�d had on-site housing and a fluctuating number of members on base at any time. Luckily for the base, a number of units had been undergoing training when the System hit, so they�d had a large number of trained personnel on-hand to deal with the monsters, even if our guns aren�t half as effective as they used to be. Unfortunately, they also got unlucky enough to get targeted with a monster drop. A couple of high Level sand worms were teleported around their base. For all that, the general in charge had managed to keep the majority of civilians and base households secure.

While Fort Irwin has nowhere near the numbers that Camp Pendleton does, it has the benefit of being nearby and fully staffed. In addition, they�re desperately in need of a restock. As a System-designated Fort, they�ve got a significant advantage over most random buildings, especially since the designation includes the entirety of the base. From what Wier says, they�ve even been able to gain limited access to the Shop through a few Quartermasters� Class Skills. But access or not, they�ve been seriously limited in their ability to develop, which is where I come in.

For all that, you�d think I�d be greeted with open arms. Instead, first I get stopped and interrogated by a roving patrol in the 45� Celsius weather. If it isn�t for the fact that I�m mostly resistant to minor changes in temperature like this, I�d be pissed. As it stands, once they finish their not-so-subtle interrogation, I�m escorted onto base under armed guard.

The base itself is an interesting place. They�ve obviously laid out numerous mines around their shelter, the walls replaced and increased to nearly thirty feet high. Watchtowers made of reinforced concrete sit above the walls, beam turrets and rocket launchers arranged to cover the approaches. I absently note the shield that opens as we near the walls, the gate that rolls open soundlessly, and the armed guards that patrol the walls. It is, for want of a better word, a military fortification.

It doesn�t take long for them to bring me to meet the general in charge. He�s got a close-cut hairstyle, salt-and-pepper hair on a too-tanned face that emphasizes the wrinkles he�s not gotten rid of and a steely glare that dictates respect. The only thing that detracts from the professional look is the fact he probably should have shaved this morning. Or he might just be unlucky enough to need to shave more than once a day.

Richard Miller (Officer Level 16)

HP: 880/880

MP: 1290/1290

Conditions: Aura of Command

Mental Influence Resisted

�Mr. Lee,� General Richard Miller says as he stands and offers me his hand. I absently note the notification that pushes aside the aura, the briefest flare as my resistances and stubborn will engage and beat aside his low Level Class skill. �General Richard Miller, Commander of Fort Irwin.�

�General Miller,� I say, casting a quick glance at the others in the room.

I get quick introductions when my interest is shown, though I promptly forget their names as I�m interrupted by a floating, invisible Spirit.

�Isn�t that a drink?�

�Not now!�

�Thank you for coming. Colonel Wier informed me that we could be expecting you within the week. You�ve made good time,� Miller says with a smile.

�Not too bad,� I agree, tilting my head. �You know, if you pointed me at a suitable location, we could continue this talk while you get resupplied.�

�All in good time, Mr. Lee. I wished to speak with you before we began such an operation,� the general says with a smile. �Communication with the colonel has been somewhat difficult, our conversations limited. I was hoping you could perhaps detail a little about the situation in Seattle and your own settlements.�

I return Miller�s frank stare before nodding. At first, I start with talking about Seattle, but Miller�s incisive questions have me jumping backward again and again as I detail my own settlements, the Galactics I�ve come across, and the basic System knowledge we�ve gained. He�s particularly interested in Crusher�s little book, so I send the survival guide to him and his aides with a thought. Through the entire conversation, notes are taken, and before I know it, nearly half the day has passed.

�Well, that�s all been fascinating. But you�re right, we should really open the Portal to the colonel. I�m sure he can brief me himself,� Miller says as he stands, one hand sweeping low to beckon an aide closer. �Major Alvarez will show you where you can set up the Portal.�

�So I�ve passed?�

�Passed?� Miller says, playing dumb.

�Your assessment,� I say bluntly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I note that the soldiers who were clustered around the office have slowly dispersed.

�Yes.� Miller doesn�t apologize, which I can understand. Without access to the full Shop to verify how truthful I am, he�s only got Class Skills and his own intuition. Which, probably, is good enough, but probably doesn�t cut it when you�re in charge of so many lives. �If you�ll follow the major, we do look forward to getting our supplies.�

�Got it.� I offer him a wave, walking out of the door, followed by the major soon afterward.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see the general bending his head and falling into a deeper conversation with his people.

�This way, sir.� Alvarez waves a tanned hand.

I follow along, almost wanting to whistle a jaunty tune to break the seriousness they all seem to carry. Then again, they�ve been surviving in the arse-end of nowhere for nearly a year, fighting Level 40 plus monsters and hemmed in by even higher Level zones and Galactics. I�d be tense too.

Watching Wier and his posse of uniformed aides walk away to talk with the general, I release the Portal before it drains me completely. A moment later, I�m seated on a lounge chair pulled from my Altered Space, a bar of chocolate in hand while I wait for my Mana to recover. Alvarez stares at me for a second but chooses not to comment. Instead, we spend the time watching the small group of assigned personnel move the various pieces of equipment that were brought over during the few minutes the Portal was open, distributing them as needed.

Shifting goods via the Portal is weird�a large group from this side jumps through in a bid to make purchases at the Shop while another stream of individuals comes in from Seattle, all of them toting boxes double to triple their size and even more stored in their System inventory. The sheer volume moved is significantly higher than what it seems, especially since a few of those have Class Skills that let them carry more in their inventory than you�d guess. The ability to overstack slots in a System inventory is a bit of a cheat.

�What�s in the boxes?� I ask Alvarez after I finish my first bar of chocolate.

�Non-System-generated items we need,� Alvarez replies. When I glare at him, the man relents, probably deciding that replying is better than annoying me enough to stop opening Portals. �Fresh vegetables and supplements, new clothing, toilet paper, and umm� other sanitary equipment.�

�Pads?�

�It�s been an issue,� Alvarez says stiffly.

I chuckle softly, though I do recall more than one time when the young ladies in the team disappeared into houses and stores before stuffing said items into my Altered Space. I once asked why they just didn�t get their genes changed or something else and received a blistering earful from Ingrid about how the System cheats and reverts such changes quickly. At a guess, it�s a by-product of the entire damn �get everyone pregnant� directive.

�So what are the men requesting?� I�m rather curious to see what it is they, being stuck without the basics, might be after.

�Nothing they can�t live without,� Alvarez replies then relents. �Beer. Smokes. Deodorant is high on the list too. Disposable razors. System-registered knives.�

I chuckle and decide not to comment further. I�m sure there are other less savory requests, but considering the major is handling most of this in an official capacity, fulfilling those is likely to be done via less official channels.

�Fair enough.� I glance at my Mana gauge. �Another five minutes and I should be good to go.�

Alvarez nods. Upon spotting the still-lingering boxes, he strides away to have a quiet chat with the poor lieutenant in charge of storing the products. Rather than watch them, I lean back and chill for now. It�s going to be a long night of shuttling people back and forth as my Mana regenerates.

The next morning, I�m called into the newly restructured situation room, a place now filled with paper maps, floating blue System notification screens, projected maps of the surroundings, and more esoteric lines of information. A few people are in here, working and watching the screens, but I�m led straight to the main table where the general and Wier stand.

�Morning, gents,� I greet the tired-looking pair and their surrounding aides.

�Mr. Lee,� Miller says, inclining his head slightly in greeting. Wier follows with his own greeting. �We received some disturbing news late last night.�

�Oh�?�

�The Zarrie Kingdom in LA has received a large batch of reinforcements of Jaracks. Current estimates put it at a full brigade, but we�re still verifying data,� Miller informs me.

�Jarack?�

�You humans have them translated as were-jackals. Which is weird because they don�t actually transform,� Ali clarifies.

�What�s their force composition now of Advanced and Master Classes?� I say with a frown.

�Total combat Classes show three low Level Master Classes and forty-three Advanced Classes spread between Los Angeles and its surroundings,� Miller replies. �As you know, they had just over two-thirds of their numbers deployed against Camp Pendleton. That allowed the other resistance cells in Los Angeles to continue fighting. But with the reinforcements, we expect the balance of power to change drastically.�

The marines in Camp Pendleton and the various other members of the armed forces have done a stellar job�out-Leveled as they�ve been, they�ve refused to back down and have kept up a string of harassing attacks. Once they Leveled up enough, they even managed to get a few of their old toys, like their tanks and artillery, back in action. So much so that the Zarrie have had to keep a significant armed presence near their borders to contain the marines.

While a Master Class is powerful�scarily so�I�m given to understand that the marines have shown a willingness to trade a lot of lives for a kill. It�s that willingness that allowed them to chalk up a Master Class kill and just over a dozen Advanced Classers. Swarm tactics aren�t uncommon�it�s why I didn�t get a world first for killing a Master Class individual on Earth. It�s also why most Advanced and Master Class individuals have escape Skills and spells on hand, but surprise and arrogance can often disarm even the best prepared. Levels help ensure that there�s a significant weight to the entire quality argument, but quantity still has a quality of its own. And no Kingdom is willing to lose a Master Class just to kill a few hundred Basics.

�Sounds like time�s running out,� I say, staring at the map and the small markers on the board. Amusingly enough, I think I understood the Seattle mages� map better than this more �professional� one. But in the end, the truth they impart is the same. �You need me to speed up and head south now.�

�Yes,� Miller says, his head coming up. �Once you provide them the settings for our communication formation, we�ll be able to support one another with greater ease. We should also be able to achieve real-time communication between our two bases.�

�Are we changing the plan then? Go wide to reach Pendleton rather than through the city to create waypoints?� I ask. That was the initial plan. Between my stealth skills and the new Shrunken Footprints Skill, I should be able to sneak into the city itself. Due to the constant fighting, the areas around LA don�t have stable settlement shields that I have to concern myself about.

�Yes.� Wier traces a path south, elaborating on the challenges I can expect to face as best as they know.

I settle in to listen and ask some questions, though as always, I�ll make my own decisions when it gets right down to it. Being the man on the bike, that�s my responsibility. Still, in the back of my mind, I worry that all this talking means more lives are being lost.

�Major.� I greet Alvarez when he walks up, followed by a squad�I hope that�s the right term. A bunch of soldiers anyway�in a squat military machine with a big cannon on it seen in way too many Hollywood movies.

�Mr. Lee.� Alvarez nods to me. �The members of Staff Sargent Johnson�s squad will be following you. Their orders are to ensure that you make it to Camp Pendleton and to aid in the verification of your identity. That is, of course, secondary to the verification documents and passphrases you�ve been provided with.�

I grunt, recalling the rather specific talk Alvarez had with me after this morning�s meeting. He�d been particularly pedantic about it, ensuring that I recalled everything word for word and in the right order before he let me go. Luckily, a stupidly high Intelligence meant that when and if I concentrated, small things like that were easy to memorize. And I have to admit, I cheated and recorded the information in my helmet just in case.

�That going to last? Things are going to get rough,� I say, glancing at the vehicle. Even if they�ve changed out the engines to make it run, the fact stands that most vehicles made pre-System aren�t strong enough to take a solid whacking. Heck, I recall a particularly exuberant five-year-old putting a dent in an abandoned vehicle back in Whitehorse.

�This particular vehicle has been rebuilt entirely by our Machinists,� Alvarez answers, glancing at the vehicle with some pride before looking at me. �It will suffice. Staff Sargent Johnson and his team have most recently traveled the road you�re on, so please make sure to listen to them.�

�All right, let�s go,� I say and twist Sabre�s throttle. The bike slides forward without a sound, rolling out of the gates.

It�s only a few minutes later that I realize I forgot to actually talk to the sargent. Oops�

On the shorter route, it�s just under two hundred miles from Fort Irwin to Camp Pendleton. On a good day, that�d be a three hour or so drive, maybe less depending on traffic. Now, with monsters, destroyed roads, hostile settlements, and insane environmental factors, that three-hour drive could easily take a whole day. And we�re taking the long way around, cutting away from Los Angeles to swing by Joshua Tree National Park, Palm Springs, and the Cleveland National Forest. Any of those areas could easily force us to take much longer than a single day if we wanted to do this quietly.

Unfortunately, the option of doing things quietly has gone the way of the Zarrie reinforcements, and so we�re just going to do it fast. In a short period after we leave the base, the Humvee overtakes me to take point, kicking up dust while a pair of tiny drones fly overhead to provide overwatch. Neither of those are anywhere as good as Ali, but I don�t tell them that. Wouldn�t want to hurt their feelings.

We swing off the highway more than once, often because there isn�t a highway left, the pavement destroyed by fights or just the movement of a monster. In one case, the footprints are so large and reptilian that it seems as if the Midwest is about to be hit by a herd of immigrating kaiju. Off-road, we have to slow down, rolling up and over barren hills, dealing with sudden bogs and hidden monsters.

Palm Springs was once a resort town for the big Hollywood elites, a place where you could commonly see withered, old rich folk and Hollywood starlets within the same day. It had been pretentious, brown, and filled with marble, an oasis of rich snobbery and transplanted plants.

�Five hundred Credits per person.� The green-polo-shirt, white-shorts-wearing tanned Golfer grins at us, his titular clubs slung across his shoulder.

He and his friends found us as we tried to swing around the settlement, not wanting to stop at a human-owned place. A quick glance at their Levels shows that they�re a mix of mid 40s to low 30s, a weird assortment of Classes ranging from pure combat to well, Golfers.

I lipread Polo Shirt�s words as I stay behind the Humvee, Johnson having indicated that he�s in charge of this negotiation.

�We letting them shake us down?� I mutter to the soldier sent to babysit me.

He�s got his head on a swivel, checking behind us for potential problems, trusting his friends to do the same in their own zones of responsibility. I�m doing the same too, sort of. Ali is double-checking and verifying information on the sensor maps while I look around with my own eyes.

�We have an agreement with the settlement,� the soldier says out of the corner of his mouth. �We pay them for passage; they leave us alone.�

�They that tough to take down?�

�Not in my experience,� he says. �But I just follow orders.�

I grunt, watching as Johnson pays for our passage and gets a briefing on the most recent movements by our mutual enemies. Patrol routes, schedules, and sightings of new enemies are all part of the report. I have to admit, the information is useful, even if I�m not thrilled by the idea of being extorted. When we get back on the road, I find myself asking Johnson about the situation.

�The owner of Palm Springs is not particularly friendly with us. We�ve come to an agreement that allows us passage through their areas, but it�s tenuous.�

�Why do you let them stay?� I frown, considering the distances between Palm Springs and the base. It�d certainly give the base access to a Shop, which I know they badly need.

�They�re an American settlement,� Johnson says with a grunt. "Our job is to protect them, not forcibly conscript their lands.�

�Ah� politics,� I say.

I�m not entirely sure I agree with the general�s decision, but then again, I�m not a soldier. Living your whole life believing you need to keep the very people who are being piss-ass annoyances alive must create some kind of mental dissonance. It doesn�t help that these citizens can and probably will do significant damage in any fight. In the end, I�m just a helpful visitor here. While I like to think of myself as a citizen of the world, that�s less likely to be a viewpoint that�s agreed upon by the Americans. So all I can do is keep quiet and take it for what is.

The last few hours of our trip are a slow, agonizing process. Under the cover of Ali�s abilities and the Skills of a pair of the soldiers, we sneak in past the fluid battle lines surrounding Camp Pendleton. With such a large area to cover, the Zarrie can only use roving patrols, droids, and fixed sensor grids to keep watch. Unfortunately for them, all of those can easily be subverted, given enough time, patience, and Skill.

The Zarrie patrols are a mixture of desert-themed creatures. The Jarack reinforcements are jackal-faced humanoids with fur on their bodies and equipped with a mixture of high-tech and melee weapons. They act as the main frontline of the Zarrie while being covered by large, carapace-laden heavies who tote around oversized beam weapons and physical shields. Mixed in among that group are smaller, dog-sized creatures with a shiny, sac-like back that can spit out an acidic-poisonous mixture. Lastly, each patrol has a metallic, vehicular aid�whether airborne or ground�to provide AI-driven help. From what Ali tells me, they�re not the greatest help, but if you need to cart around corpses or scout out potential new problems, the drones did the job.

Mostly we try to avoid even seeing them, but while the information we�ve received is useful, it�s not complete, so we find ourselves hiding, trusting in our Skills and abilities as we sneak closer to our objective. Killing the patrols would be simple, but that would give away our position and if they decided to purchase more information, they�d know what we�re up to. In this case, secrecy is our shield. So we traverse mutated forests, destroyed roads, and deal with numerous bush fires, either trusting in our armor and Skills to keep us alive or swinging wide. It�s a hard call to make�sometimes those wild fires are fueled by Mana and System-enhanced plants, making them a danger even to me.

Again and again, we have to stop and start, our �short� journey lengthening as we swing around System-enhanced problems and the occasional firefight. Finally Johnson decides we�re close enough and makes contact with the base itself. After that, it�s just more waiting before we�re met by the marines and led in at a breakneck speed.

As we cross the barbed wire fences that surround the buildings, I find myself relaxing. Even if we�re still under guard, being surrounded by humans and the mostly theoretical safety of the walls is comforting. Johnson and his men relax too, especially as we cross deeper into the base itself. Though we�ve all heard of the fierce fighting that has occurred, there�s little on the base to indicate that, all the buildings in pristine condition due to the System. Nothing to indicate a problem, except the way the soldiers move and the edge they all hold. They�re like live weapons, ready to explode into action at any time. The obvious presence of the military police as we head deeper shows that this state of constant battle readiness has taken its toll on the personnel.

Once we�re in, I�m led to a secure bunker where I�m interrogated�nicely�by the guards. As check after check is passed, I find my tension ratcheting up once again. Soon, I�ll be meeting the man in charge and opening a Portal for Wier and Miller. And then we�ll really begin.

�Thank you, Mr. Lee. For allowing us to have this conversation,� Sanchez says, the Puerto Rican marine colonel offering me a smile. There�s an edge to the marine, a hardness and a lurking pain in his eyes and a coldness to his smile that reminds me not to underestimate the man.

�You�re welcome,� I answer before glancing toward Wier and Miller.

They too offer their thanks before we get down to the meat of the meeting. The uniformed men aren�t the only individuals present at this meeting. The usual suspects like the mages from Seattle, the Baristas, and of course Lana and Mikito, are all present. In addition, Labashi and a few members of the Adventurers Guilds we�ve begun to work with are here too. In Labashi�s case, he�s here to fill a contract with Wier. The Guilds are here to set up Quests for their members once we�ve decided upon a plan.

�Thank you for coming,� Miller states once everyone�s settled. In the center of the meeting room is a projection of California. �As you know, we must finish this fight before the Zarrie can reinforce further. Of the seventeen City Cores highlighted here, we must take seven for the first phase to be considered complete.

�Due to the significant amount of scrutiny placed upon our forces by the Zarrie, our plans of operations cannot be discussed in any detail. What we are here to discuss is the timeframe the attacks will be conducted under, the requirements that each force has to be ready, the chain of command, and what, if any, concerns you might have about the attack and your group�s involvement.�

It�s kind of amusing, listening to all this. I was in on the earlier conversation between the three, the long talk that Miller had with the other two army officers, along with my interjections, about the System and the Shop�s ability to extract information. Wier, having had more interactions with the Shop itself, was able to provide further information and even shared a few of the documents and books he�d purchased detailing military tactics formed in the presence of the System. The meeting we�re having now is the result of that earlier conversation. However, a bold statement like that, among us civilians, obviously doesn�t garner many points for Miller.

�You�re not telling us the plan?� Charles says, an edge to his voice.

�We�re just civilians, you know.� Kaylee, the Barista, shifts her tone to one parodying the military, almost barking her next words. �We aren�t trusted with things like planning or thinking. Civilians would just mess it up.�

�Har. We�ve cleared more cities than these army boys!�

Labashi watches, his lips pursed. He�s obviously clear on the why, while the Guilds don�t seem too perturbed. In fact, I catch a few smiles. Because of the vagueness of the plans, the resulting quests� expenses will be high.

�You prefer they tell you the plan now and change it midway?� Lana says, the voice of reason as always. �Because if General Miller is right, and I�ll bet that he is, any plans he actually articulates, puts into writing, or otherwise communicates is open to purchasing. Now, there are Skills and technology to make it harder or at least more expensive to buy that information, but that�s more expensive, not impossible. So being kept in the dark is the best way forward.�

�And if General Miller is assassinated?� Laila asks from her chair. I�m amused that she�s in a sleeveless pantsuit, one that shows off her tightly toned arms.

She looks almost as delicious as the dark-chocolate aide who sits by her side, his arms shown off in a sleeveless vest. For a moment, I wonder if it�s just coincidence or a case of well-designed uniforms before I pull my attention back to Miller.

�The chain of command passes from General Miller to myself to Colonel Wier to Mr. Lee,� Sanchez answers, waving his fingers and flicking over a document. In it is the new chain of command.

I�m surprised to note Lana�s and Sam�s names on it and relatively high, though we go through a couple more military personnel before it seriously switches around to non-military personnel.

�Why�s John so high up?� Kaylee asks, prodding the paper. �He military too?�

�No. Mr. Lee�s special Skills dictate his position in the chain of command. If he is still able to function at that point, he will be in the best position to ascertain the next steps for our attack,� Miller replies.

�Ah, he gets to decide if we run away?� Daniel asks, stating the obvious.

There�s more than a few frowns at the mage, but he ignores them all. Whether it�s a case of the programmer being entirely oblivious or not caring, he seems more than happy to annoy everyone.

�Or press the attack,� Miller says. �Our troops have been so informed. Now, we have much to discuss and not much time.�

The grumbling stills, at least for the moment, as we turn toward the minutiae of battle prep. It amuses me slightly since my own portion of this is done. I�ve got Sabre, Ali, and my sword. Everything else� well, that�s for others to handle. My people are in good hands. Once again, I�m the damn transport hub.

�You were pretty quiet in there,� Sam says to me later that evening where our team has gathered in the house we�ve been allocated.

Everyone�s here, including Carlos and Ingrid, which is a nice change of pace from the recent norm. Perhaps it�s because we�ve all lost our families that voluntary gatherings like this are all the more important, familiar bonds reestablished to offer comfort and succor.

�Didn�t have much to contribute,� I say with a shrug. �You and Lana have a better idea of what our men are like these days. Though I�m surprised you weren�t there.� I say that to Mikito, who sighs.

�Training. We�re closing in on clearing the fiftieth level zone of your dungeon,� Mikito says with a slight bite.

�Ah, right.� I blink and duck my head, recalling that I was the one who had mentioned we should try to clear the dungeon ourselves. We never got around to it, mostly because I�m too busy running errands. Truthfully, outside of pulling the team in for the occasional clearance of a newly found, uncleared dungeon on my route, we haven�t had much fighting time together recently.

�Leave him alone, Miki,� Carlos says. �He�s busy doing hero stuff. We�ve got the dungeons covered.�

�Miki�?� I do my best to hide my astonishment at the lack of naginata protruding from Carlos�s body at the use of a nickname.

�Lazing around and road-tripping,� Mikito mutters grumpily, though mostly good-naturedly.

�That does raise the question�when are we taking the rest of Canada?� Ingrid says, leaning forward. �Not that helping the Americans isn�t important, but you know��

�National pride,� I say with a half-smile. �After this. I�ll be porting up to Calgary and heading east once the battle here is over and things have settled. Wier has promised more help from his people. With the marines clear, they�ll have enough people to make an actual push of it by themselves once they settle LA. Calgary�s pretty secure now and Edmonton is raring to go, so we�re next on the agenda.�

�Good,� Sam grunts.

I glance at the older man, recalling his concerns over Ontario.

�We�re pretty settled up in BC too. The mountains farther north are an issue, but things are beginning to settle. The negotiations with the sirens in Vancouver Island are nearly over,� Lana adds, shaking her curly red hair. �Though I�m not entirely sure we�ll get many immigrants from there.�

�Men,� Ingrid says with a snort.

�Good,� Carlos says happily, returning to the initial topic. �Don�t get me wrong, I don�t mind helping them but��

�It�ll be good to get started,� I say, nodding. �Any news on the Rockies?�

A few faces are made at that question.

Ingrid answers without hesitation. �Level 80 to 120 depending on the zone. No survivors. Our scouts have indicated a series of flying monsters ranging from gargoyles, griffins, and drakes to elemental rock hounds and creatures we don�t even have names for. And that�s at the edges.�

�Sounds like the passes up north are the way to go, unless there�re a few lower Level zones down south,� I say.

It�s frustrating, but we�re also lucky. As the latest Dungeon World, we�re still considered �new,� and while certain zones have a higher level of ambient Mana than others, we�re nowhere close to the levels of older Dungeon Worlds. Over time�measured in years and decades, thankfully�the amount of ambient Mana on Earth will rise too. In fact, the introduction of Earth as a Dungeon World has helped the other Dungeon Worlds significantly, slowing down the Mana saturation in their worlds. The continual increase in zones and Levels in older Dungeon Worlds is what makes City Dungeons so damn popular. The City Dungeons themselves are much more controlled and it�s why we haven�t seen a rush of new Galactic Adventurers. While the rewards in experience and loot is better in a Dungeon World, City Dungeons are just safer and more accessible for those at the lower end of the scale. It�s like travelling to a new country to take a degree � sure, technically possible but it�s expensive and risky. Of course, not a rush is relative. When you�re talking populations of hundreds of billions, fractions are still huge.

�The scouts are working that route right now, but it�s slow going. Between the Galactics streaming in, the need to locate and work with survivors, and the lack of a base, I don�t expect there to be any major developments,� Ingrid says. �They�ve asked for funds to build up a Fort they located, but it�s pretty broken right now.�

�Done. Talk to Kim. He�ll arrange for the Credits.� I trust the assassin to know and vet the scouts. While she isn�t directly in charge of their operations�it�s a tad too much responsibility for the lady�I know she�s interested in the process. It�s almost like stepping into a new world each time you explore a new region these days. �The Americans giving them a hard time?�

With the border down, there�s little to separate our countries except an imaginary state of mind�certainly, we don�t have a giant wall to demarcate the difference. But the walls we build in our minds can be harder to break than even a diamond-studded wall in reality.

�Not too much. Many of them are happy to see just about anyone. The few who aren�t� well, our scouts are some of our highest Level Combat Classers,� Ingrid says. �Anyone who objects too pointedly gets the point.�

�Badoom-Krash!� Ali shouts, playing imaginary drums to go alongside the sound effect.

�And that�s enough of that. On another note, there�s been talk about reclaiming some of the other settlements,� Lana says. �Some of the survivors have indicated a desire to head back home. Others just want to explore. We�ve been able to keep it in check mostly, or at least redirect them to one of our smaller Villages in BC, but it�s not just us. Alberta�s indicated the same thing�people want to go home. Even if that home is now owned by a seventeen-foot-tall green man.�

�That�s an oddly specific example,� Carlos says.

�It is, isn�t it?� Lana says sweetly.

�What do you want me to do about it?� I say with a frown.

�Nothing. There�s nothing you can do, but you remember how the System called us NPCs? Like we were just background to their lives?� Lana says, and I nod. �Well, I wonder if that�s because it�s true. Once we start populating the other settlements, we�ll need the Galactics to help keep order. To keep them settled. We don�t have the population anymore to keep all our cities going.�

�You think they knew. That they planned for this.� At her nod, I glance at Ali. The Spirit nods and I sigh. Time to let the team know the truth I�ve already read. �They did. It�s common practice for the Galactics. We�re not the first, the second, or the hundredth world to be taken over. The only reason they�ve only got six Dungeon Worlds is because at a certain point, most Dungeon Worlds self-destruct. The ambient Mana pushes the monsters to a point where it�s impossible for all but the most Legendary individuals to visit. Many of the core worlds among the Galactics aren�t very different from those Dungeon Worlds by now.�

My words make the group blink�not at the words themselves but at the Quest Notification they receive. For the first time, Carlos gets introduced to my private obsession�the System Quest. All of them receive a little experience as they uncover another secret of the System. And as always, there�s no way to tell why or how this piece of knowledge and not another is important enough that the System will award us.

�Thanks for the experience. I think,� Carlos says, his brow furrowed as he reads the quest log.

�Don�t worry about it. John�s obsessed with it. He even reads books,� Ingrid says the last mostly teasingly but with just a hint of derision in her voice.

�Enough of picking on John,� Lana says, frowning. �His book reading is actually useful. If we know what they�re planning, maybe we can do something about it.�

�Like what? Not die?� Ingrid says with a snort. �The problem is we don�t have enough people. And I�m not sacrificing my body to put more babes in the cradle.�

Sam snorts, almost choking on the drink he was sipping. Ingrid grins evilly, making it clear that was on purpose.

Even if she doesn�t, the number of babies that have popped out and that are due is staggering. Probably a quarter of the female population is expecting or will be expecting. It�s not natural, but from the conversations I�ve lipread, the pregnancies are all going extremely well�much better than previous experiences. No morning sickness, no cramps or swollen feet or overheating. It�s a dream pregnancy, if it weren�t for the fact that in many cases it�s a surprise.

�I�m not sure how,� Lana says, not bothering to rise to Ingrid�s bait. It�s never worth it with her. �But at least we know the Galactics are pushing us to work with them. So maybe we have more of a bargaining position than we thought.�

Ingrid snorts but doesn�t rebut Lana. I nod, content to let the redhead work on this problem too now that I�ve put the bug in her ear. I have my own thoughts on the matter, but as always, they diverge somewhat.

As Lana falls silent, Sam takes it upon himself to switch topics to something lighter, a recounting of finding some old rock band that survived the apocalypse in their retreat and is having an upcoming concert. Even in the worst of times, there�s always a silver lining.

Chapter 13

Six days. It takes six days for preparations to be complete before the first major steps are taken. Of course, with my Skill, I�m privy to the majority of the changes, including the process of transporting hundreds of marines to Fort Irwin. By the end of that week, I am sick of the often-repeated snarky comments and gloating by the marines about how they were all �Marines,� unlike the other non-Classed generic soldiers. The marines are just the start, of course. After that, I port over fighters from settlements all across the country.

Six days. And in those six days, I manage to catch up with Lana, Mikito, and Sam and even get to know Carlos a little better. The Hispanic man is an interesting mix of confidence and sudden attacks of doubt, at times certain of his place in all this and other times completely out of his depth. Then again, perhaps he�s just easier to read than most. Six days and we even manage to sneak in a full day of dungeoning, making a speed run through the majority of the buildings in Vancouver�s City Dungeon to grab loot and experience. It played out well, with some modest loot that sells for good Credits and very decent experience gains.

Six days to get all our preparations sorted. At that thought, I pull out my character sheet, staring at the screen and the latest series of upgrades I�ve made. Upgrades. So weird to think of myself like a computer that gets its RAM switched out, my hard disk defragged, or new peripherals added.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Honor Guard

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist

Health

2240

Stamina

2240

Mana

1740

Mana Regeneration

135 / minute

Attributes

Strength

116

Agility

207

Constitution

224

Perception

Intelligence

174

Willpower

170

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footprints*

Tech Link*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (II)

Greater Regeneration

Greater Healing

Mana Drip

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Fireball

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Inferno Strike

Mud Walls

Having gotten over my hesitation about �buying� Skill Levels, I spent my most recent earnings on upgrading Thousand Blades twice, adding two new blades to my arsenal. Luckily, the Skill increases also let me set how many new blades I call forth, since actually wielding five swords, four of them free-floating, is rather difficult, especially with my butchered Erethran Honor Guard style of appearing / disappearing blades. It was only after playing with them a bit that I realized I desperately needed to increase my Perception to help aid my sense of where those blades are.

I also upgraded Mana Imbue and Blade Strike with the last of my funds, increasing my attack power in my stalwart combat Skills.

Mana Imbue (Level 3)

Blade Strike (Level 3)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 30 feet away.

Cost: 30 Stamina + 30 Mana

The decrease in my Mana regeneration sucked, but the increase in base damage helped. Over time, I�ve realized how powerful this unresistible increase in base damage can be. Sure, it might seem small when compared to the thousands of hit points an enemy might have, but it�s base damage. That damage is multiplied by where and how well you hit the individual, after which of course armor, dodging, and other passive skills take effect. In the end, a few points increase in base damage can make a big difference, especially when that amount isn�t reduced by resistances.

All this is, of course, a minor addition when stacked up against the huge gain in my attack power when it�s multiplied by Army of One. As tempting as it was to use both of my free Skill points to upgrade it again, I instead purchased another point in Sanctum. Surviving takes precedence, no matter how much fun it is to kick ass. Having an ace in the hole, an �ignore all attacks� card is something I can�t ignore.

Sanctum (Level 2)

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

The upgrade for Army of One, on the other hand, was slightly disappointing. For another point, I somehow expected a little more.

Army of One (Level 2)

The Honor Guard�s feared penultimate combat ability, Army of One builds upon previous Skills, allowing the user to unleash an awe-inspiring attack to deal with their enemies. Attack may now be guided around minor obstacles.

Effect: Army of One allows the projection of (Number of Thousand Blades conjured weapons * 3) Blade Strike attacks up to 300 meters away from user. Each attack deals 3 * Blade Strike Level damage (inclusive of Mana Imbue and Soulbound weapon bonus)

Cost: 750 Mana

Overall satisfied with the upgrades and the way I had spent my accumulated Credits, I flicked over to my sparse equipment sets. The Mana bracer is fully filled, which gives me a nice Mana battery to reach for. Even after all this time fighting other sentients, I�ve yet to find a better ring. Since multiple rings can cancel each other out, I�m stuck with someone�s engagement ring. It�s a bit morbid, but considering they were here to enslave and kill us, I�m mostly over the ethical issues.

I�m still wielding the same beam pistol and rifle, along with Sabre, as when I first started. Most equipment that we�ve found is only marginally better, and marginal increases aren�t worth it. I�ve come across a few rifles that would have been better quality if they hadn�t been destroyed, but unfortunately, my fighting style has a tendency to leave a lot of things in pieces. And while I could have bought myself a better rifle, spending the Credits on such a thing rather than say, a Skill, just seems wrong. Equipment can be wrecked or changed eventually. Skills stay forever.

The biggest upgrade I have is actually a small technical module that takes a slot on my Neural Link. It�s taken a little bit of time to get used to it, so I haven�t seen its effects well until our most recent dungeon dive, but now, it feels right.

Perceptive Filter

The perceptive filter interacts with the user�s senses to highlight specific sensory inputs. While unable to expand the range of the user�s senses, the perception filter is able to note specific, potentially useful, sensory inputs that the user has ignored and highlight them for the user to note.

Effect: Variable. Currently provides a +4 to Perception

Requires: One Neural Link Slot

It�s a weird little technological upgrade, but in the dungeon, twice it highlighted a hidden doorway that we nearly missed. The first time was due to a slight scarring on the floor which had flashed red in my vision, the second via increasing the smell of the monster lurking behind the door. Overall, I�m quite pleased by the little find, and it made yanking the neural link out of the Galactic�s head worthwhile. It went a small way to rebalancing my Perception requirements at least.

Six days. I�ve been brought into a few more strategy meetings, gleaned a little more from the casual talk among our people and the way men have been distributed or the locations I�ve been led to to set up Portal locations. As much as we try to keep such information compartmentalized, some of it is easy enough to grasp, even for one as untrained in the art of war as I am.

Three Master Class enemies need a counter. They�re walking tank divisions, powerful enough to turn the tide of battle in any location. You can kill them if you throw enough Basic Classes at them, if you�re willing to stuff people down the exhaust pipes till the tracks are gummed up and they can�t move or see. Or you can counter strength with strength.

Seven teams, each rated to take out a single Master Class Galactic. I know the goal is to use a minimum of two teams for each Master Class. They�re all situated in the back of the line, waiting for me to Portal them in. Lana and company are one such team. Two Hakarta teams of eight men apiece, a pair of Special Forces teams from Fort Lewis, and two squads of Marines make up the remainder of the Master-Class killers.

Throughout the main fighting force, smaller elite groups are scattered. Our non-military fighters have naturally broken themselves into fighting parties, people they know and trust. Adventuring parties mixed with infantry fire teams, all of them backing each other up with appropriate allocations of Skills and spells. Each squad has been graded and ranked, ranging from the Basic to Master Class killers, some teams larger than others. Within each combat rank are additional grades. And based off these grades, the Officers, Commanders, and Tacticians can allocate help as needed to tackle threats.

Six days to break down, calculate, and tag each group. And during that time, the few resistance groups doing battle with the Zarrie continue to die, without news, without hope, without aid. Knowing that we could do more for them and yet we aren�t guts me. We can�t, not without letting the Zarrie know that we�re making a move, that we�re getting closer. That�s one of the lessons from Wier�s books. You can�t fight a war as if the enemy knows all your moves, but you can�t afford to discount it either. And so we leave them to fight and die, battling over neighborhood blocks that hold no meaning and City Cores that change every few weeks.

Six days, and finally, we�re ready.

The sight the next morning is something to behold. Soldiers and marines, civilians and police officers, Galactics and humans in all shapes and sizes exit Fort Irwin. I watch as the myriad of figures, transported on everything from pony-sized puppies to futuristic armored personnel carriers, upgraded tanks, and Bradleys trek forward, an army of mish-mashed individuals with one will, and I marvel at the weirdness of the System once more.

Our first step is to take the cities that lie between Fort Irwin and Los Angeles. While I can Portal people directly into combat, I�m still one man with a limited window on my Portal. There�re only so many people I can safely and quickly transport.

Barstow is our first stop, followed by the urban sprawl that makes up Hesperia, Victorville, and the rest. After that, we�ll probably skip the Angeles National Forest and its myriad Level 80 monsters and clear part of the way through San Bernardino. Luckily for us, the entire San Bernardino county is a battle-ridden ground filled with pissed off Californians and Galactics in equal measure. San Bernardino itself seems to have done really well, with nearly half of its City Cores held by its residents. I guess living in a crime-ridden, poverty-stricken city has some benefits when the apocalypse comes. Fact is, they�d have done even better if they weren�t so busy fighting each other and selling one another out, but that�s humans for you.

Those are the easy marching orders to discern, even if no one has said as much. Still, for now, it�s Hesperia and on coming battles while we wait to see if and when the Zarrie react.

While the core zones of LA and its surrounding areas have settlement shields in place, the various towns and cities that encompass the San Bernardino valley have none of those defenses. Most of their City Cores and regions remain blasted ruins, areas that have suffered from the initial apocalypse, the monsters that have grown up in the city, and later, the sneak attacks by the marines and the army.

As settlements have a strict financial management policy�otherwise, settlement owners would be tossing Credits in and drawing them out willy-nilly�the lack of development isn�t surprising. I actually do need to do more research on why these Credit management policies in settlements are in place, but that�s something for future John to do.

Idle thoughts I�m able to have because, like the Master Class-rated teams, I�m benched from the fight around Hesperia. The less our enemies know of my presence, the better off we are. That�s about the biggest drawback to purchasing information from the store�it�s always a time-specific purchase. I can tell where someone is at the moment I purchase their location, but it offers no System-guaranteed tracking. It means for someone with the innate mobility I have, they can only rely on technology and Skills to keep track of me.

Staring out of the window of the In-n-Out burger shack that�s been taken over by the Master Class teams, I watch the smoke rise from the sprawling cities and try to convince myself that the smell of burnt flesh and overheated metal is coming from the kitchen. Sam and a couple others have the grill fired up, tossing hamburgers and making fries as they cheat physics and entropy to make the mundane cooking equipment work once more. It�s a good distraction and a better use of time than my own brooding.

�And that�s the last Core,� Major Alvarez informs me as he walks over from the small command post he and his fellow minders have set up in one corner.

�Good.� Seeing that that�s all Alvarez has to say, I realize I still don�t have any marching orders. �Losses?�

�Minimal. Six Basic teams, one Advanced-ranked team were complete losses. Two Advanced teams have lost significant numbers and have been combined,� Alvarez replies.

Considering an Advanced Class team of Galactics was holding each of the Cores, I�m pleasantly surprised.

�Mr. Lee, I have a question if you have a moment,� Alvarez says. �For you and your Spirit.�

�He�s got a name you know. Ali. Like the boxer,� Ali says with a snort.

�Go ahead,� I say, ignoring Ali, who is floating beside me and pulling together strands of data.

I almost wish Kim was here, but since I don�t own any of these settlements, he (it?) is currently out of reach. Still, the AI�s data processing capability is better than Ali�s and would be useful, even if he doesn�t have the right knowledge sets.

�Like us, most Galactics seem to adventure and do battle in teams. Thus, the numerous teams of Advanced Class fighters we�ve met,� Alvarez says. �But we�ve yet to meet any Master Class teams.�

�What? You want to meet some?� Ali says tauntingly. �I�m sure that can be arranged.�

�Why ask me?� I ask.

�Your propensity for reading is well known. And you�ve got certain advantages in acquiring additional knowledge.� Alvarez says the last part while shooting a glance at Ali.

�Less than you�d think,� I say with a smile.

�Hey!�

�But to answer your question, there are. In fact, there are more Master Class teams than solo adventurers who ascend to that level. However, the teams rarely stay together after that,� I say, shooting Alvarez a glance. Seeing that he�s still listening, I continue. �You understand how the experience requirements keep rising each stage, right? Thus, it costs you roughly fifty thousand experience points to go from Level 1 to 2 when you�re an Advanced Class. By the time you hit Level 41, you need roughly two hundred fifty thousand points. Now, double that again when you�re starting out as a Master Class. You see the problem?�

Alvarez blinks, his jaw working. He�s doing the math quietly, thinking of his experience gains recently, his eyes slowly widening.

�That�s right. Group experience distribution rules while killing monsters means there�s less total experience distributed than if you fought solo. When you need that much experience to go up a single Level, you can�t adventure with your team. In fact, adventuring and �grinding� for experience isn�t even that smart anymore.�

�Then what is?�

�Quests. We don�t see a lot of it here, mostly because we don�t have the set up, but in properly established Galactic worlds, there are numerous quests available.� I shrug. �It�s also why you don�t see many Master Classes running around here. They�re too busy Leveling to bother with things like this. Of course��

�Of course�?�

�Well, not everyone wants to Level after they reach that point,� I say. �It�s why the ones we find are normally lower Leveled.�

�Ah, except couldn�t protecting the settlements be part of their quests?� Alvarez asks.

�Yup. It probably is too.� I pause, considering how to answer simply. �Quests, well, they gain in experience as the need and duration they aren�t completed increases. So say a quest to pull a tooth from a live dragon isn�t completed in a year. The experience it gives goes up every day, and by the end of the year, the experience gain from completion is probably worth double what it was. A �protect� quest like this, well, it isn�t particularly old, so it probably isn�t very good experience. Not for a Master Class.�

�Oh�� Alvarez nods in thanks. Before he can ask a follow-up question, he stills, his eyes glazing over as he listens and reads a notification only he can see.

Without saying goodbye, the major walks off, muttering to himself. I could listen in, but I don�t, willfully ignoring the man.

�Not going to point out that you�re a giant cheater?� Ali sends.

I snort quietly. No, I�m definitely not going to point out how, because of me skipping an entire Class Level, I need significantly less experience to Level than what I just described. Even if, right now, it means my last few Levels have been a grind.

�Animal style?� Carlos asks, holding a platter of burgers in front of me. I stare at him uncomprehendingly, wondering if we�ve switched to talking about fighting techniques. �Animal style burgers? You know what, never mind. Just eat it.�

I shake my head, grabbing the tray and putting it on the table next to me. Americans are weird. In a moment, Lana joins me, snatching a stuffed burger with cheese melting off the definitely-not-beef patties, and I push the thought aside, starting in on my meal before it all disappears.

San Bernardino itself is a trickier nut to crack. By the time we get to it a half day later, the damn city and most of its surroundings are on fire. The constant battles and the lack of upgrades to the county and its surroundings have all but guaranteed that wild fires are a constant danger. It doesn�t help that the System replaces the burnt-out brush within days each time. This wildfire seems to have really gotten out of hand though.

�Bet you it�s some mage who�s gotten hold of a new fire spell,� Sam mutters as he directs drones to dump more fire retardant on the smoking hillside.

�No chance. Fire mages are smarter than that. It�s probably one of you non-mages,� Chetan says with a bite. He weaves his hand slightly, guiding a whip of flame to cut into the earth and burn the grass on it to create a firebreak. Either that or he�s just looking for the chance to burn something.

�We need a temperature drop over here,� Ingrid�s voice cackles over the communicators.

�Got it,� I say.

I almost pop open a Portal by reflex before remembering I�m not supposed to and Blink Step my way over to the lady. Mostly, I�m thankful that I don�t have to listen to Sam and Chetan�s argument, since it�s one that I�ve heard numerous times. Stuck as we are on the surrounding hills, we can barely even see San Bernardino. But at least this time, we get to do something.

�Isn�t this kind of pointless?� Ingrid says to me when I�m done casting Polar Zone over the area, the assassin standing with one leg cocked and relaxed.

�Aren�t you working? And what do you mean?� I say.

�The System regrows everything super-fast anyway. So all this, it�ll just regrow in what? A week? And I�m waiting for my spell cooldown to come off. It�s not as if I have that many useful spells, you know,� Ingrid says.

�Sure, it�s a waste of time,� Ali answers Ingrid with a smile.

�Stop smiling at me. It makes me worried when you do, you pervert,� Ingrid says while raising her hand to cast a cone of cold at another piece of ground. A few seconds later, she throws a rain cloud over another spot.

�Rain?� I say.

�Soothing rain. Mana regeneration and a mild healing regeneration increase,� Ingrid answers. �It�s from a ring.�

�Huh��

�I�m waiting, Spirit.�

�What? There�s nothing to worry about. Let it burn. Let it burn again. After a while, you�ll just get fire-resistant grass, fire elementals, explosive plants, and other creatures that either thrive on the burning and promote it or, you know, creatures that can just ignore it,� Ali says with a shrug. �It�s all good.�

�Explosive plants?� I say.

�Sure. What better way to promote fires?� Ali says.

�Right. More water.� Ingrid nods firmly.

The desert is already tough enough, with the Mana-enhanced sandstorms, crazy-ass winds, and mutated animals. We don�t need even nastier forms of plants and creatures coming along.

The conquest of San Bernardino was messy, destructive, and ultimately, successful. Luckily, we only lost a few Advanced Class team members, the majority of our losses being focused around our Basic Classes. There, we lost a lot more, including the complete wipe of five teams. It was a painful loss that left our people reeling. Rather than push ahead, Miller called for a break. Various scout groups kept moving ahead while the logistics and backend helpers came along to shore up the city�s defenses.

The Zarrie hit us the next morning as we near LA. They let our scouting parties past, the main body of our fighting force stretched out as we deal with a giant, shifting canyon that moves without rhyme or reason, creating caverns and gaps. It doesn�t help that ginormous beetles crawl from the ground at random intervals, launching themselves at our teams and attempting to drag them into the earthen gaps.

I�m working my way through the canyon, using my beam rifle to pick off threatening beetles while sitting safely on the floating PAV. The Zarrie attack hits us from the northwest, to the right of the broken-up road and canyon, as the latest attack from the beetles recedes.

The Zarrie lob the System-equivalent of artillery shells at us�high explosive high-tech weaponry, kinetic impact spells, traditional chemical explosive shells, and spell-enchanted weapons. Amongst all the explosive destruction comes waves of poisonous gas and quick-solidifying chemicals, the enchanted smoke obscuring our vision.

Long hours of combat and in some cases, training, kicks in after the initial shock. Teams pull in close and tight, hunkering down and guarding each other as they trigger additional static defenses. Unfortunately, the screams that reverberate through the canyon speak to the futility of that defense.

�Ali, go high.�

�On it.�

The spirit must have been moving already because within moments, I get a secondary feed from his vision, a slightly disorienting moment as I �see� through his eyes. It�s not a clear vision, partly because my mind still struggles to parse both visions at the same time and partly because our link isn�t that powerful. Yet. It�s still more than enough for what I need. In the relative safety of the shields I�ve already conjured, I have a few moments to assess the battlefield in peace.

In the northeast, there are no friendly dots left. All our scouts, all the men tasked with keeping that flank safe are gone. Even the dots that were there before have disappeared, some replaced with red and others gone as if they were never there. Now, the ridge is filled with Galactics shooting into the obscuring smoke, laying down suppressive fire as another group rushes in to engage us in melee combat. As Ali spins around, I spot the teams that haven�t been caught in the initial trap blocked off, walled away from the fight by a Skill that creates a towering, translucent wall that constantly shifts in size, sending out spikes to lash out at our men.

�Boy-o�� Ali highlights one particular figure on the cliff, flashing him in a rainbow outline repeatedly.

The distance is a bit too far to make out details beyond its raised hands that just look wrong and a tail. One thing I do note is that next to him is a team of spellcasters forming a ritual circle.

�Master Class?�

�Either that or he�s got one hell of a spell. That wall is his,� Ali states.

As he speaks, I watch a spike erupt from the wall, punching through the chest of the female melee fighter who�s been whaling on it with her mace. A moment later the spike enlarges, tearing the woman apart in a shower of gore, splattering all those around with her innards.

�Asshole,� I snarl. With a thought, Sabre transforms around me even as I traverse the smoke-filled terrain. �Jump lines, Blink, Portal,� I mentally command my helmet, the software over-layering cylindrical domes ahead of me to indicate the max distances for my Skills. It�s a minor adjustment that I came up with since Calgary, a little advantage to help my spells. Before I trigger either of my Skills, I check that both shields are fully activated.

Once ready, I use Ali�s viewpoint to Blink Step into the air above the smoke, giving me a moment to view the battle fully. As I fall, I thrust out a hand and launch a fireball into an approaching team of Galactics, Ali swooping past me as he attempts to close the distance to skip ahead again. Not that I need it�the Galactics are barely a few hundred meters away.

An icon flashes on my helmet�a lock and a figure stepping through a doorway. Before I can consciously understand what it means, I�ve triggered Blink Step to put me close to the cliff face. It�s a mistake. As I use Blink Step, a molecular grater is taken to every cell in my body, leaving tiny tears all over my prone form.

�Quantum lo� never mind.� Ali�s warning is just as late as my own realization.

My body curls up in shock while nerves scream and limbs twitch.

�Redeemer, we�ve identified a Master Class individual on the field. Details have been forwarded,� Alvarez�s voice cackles over the communicator too late. Not that he�s slow�it�s only been a short while since this has started.

I have no time to complain about my codename or explain my side of the story, the flicking danger signal showing that the Galactics haven�t ignored my mistake. Spells and explosions slam into me again and again, and with a force of will, I roll and twist to get away.

�Kill him!� The roar from above tells me I�m definitely targeted.

�Time to go, boy-o,� Ali mutters.

�Trying�� I grunt, then trigger the sonic pulser and a quartet of mini-missiles.

Those missiles don�t get far, the barrage of explosives tearing them apart. Luckily, they�re loaded with one of Carlos�s concoctions, a mixture of alchemical poison and high-density, signal-retardant smoke. Scrambling aside, I trigger Thousand Steps, boosting my movement speed for a few precious seconds.

�Redeemer, I have reports that you�re under attack. Help is on the way. Teams one and four are waiting on the Portal,� Alvarez�s voice cackles over the communicator again.

�Can�t,� I growl, scanning the notification as I scramble away while laying down my own covering fire and refreshing my Soul Shield. �Quantum lock. Spell. Advanced Class team.�

�Copy. Artillery is ranging. Brace for splash in five. Over,� Alvarez says, entirely too calm.

While I�m not a soldier, I can understand what he means by context and I�m not happy. On the other hand, the Galactics are significantly less, so when our men recover from the sudden attack, they return fire with our own version of artillery. Which in some cases is actual artillery and mortar shells.

The rippling explosion throws me backward, putting me into a backward roll that is aided by the spherical shield surrounding me. Sabre�s shield is down, only the newly refreshed Soul Shield saving me from further injury. Even under the protection of the sound dampeners in my helmet and the Soul Shield, my ear rings and my body throbs in sympathy with the explosions. For all that, the quantum lock continues to hold.

�Redeemer. Results? Over.�

�Lock is still on.�

�Teams two and five are en route to your position. We have released eight Advanced Class teams to deal with the surprise attack. Communication and visual surveillance of the vanguard has been compromised. Do you have further updates?� Alvarez calls.

In the corner of my mind, I�m sure Wier and Miller are dealing with the rest of the military forces, but I�m a touch busy to tune in there.

�Ali��

�Updates are all routing to you and Sabre. But their smoke is throwing up some real interference. All I can say is, hurry!�

�I�m feeding you what I can. Ali says the information�s unreliable. Just hurry,� I say, dancing backward as I spot three teams braving the still-falling artillery to advance on my position. �Got to dance. I�ll Portal people in once I can.�

�Understood. Out.�

Watching the three teams rush me, spells, projectiles, and other killing attacks reaching for me, I make a quick decision. With my higher Agility, Thousand Steps, and Sabre�s anti-gravity plates and jets, I could stay away from the teams and pull them apart by letting the faster fellows chase me while I blast them. Kite and kill. Except they�ve got healers and I don�t and their range damage dealers could probably do some real damage if I let this go on too long. And let�s face the facts. Running away just isn�t what I do.

Rushing my attackers, I open up with more mini-missiles, watching my stock of pre-loaded missiles drop again. Still, the explosives do their job, throwing the group into disarray as they dodge, close their eyes, and overall attempt to ride out the blast. Two steps to the right leaves me bypassing the lead group, dodging between the trio while I drop a couple of grenades behind me. Chaos grenades sow salt water taffy, a gremlin, and a block of solidified magma in my wake.

Then I�m among the other pair of teams, dancing through them and firing the Inlin whenever I can while swinging my sword. The first Jarack dodges then breaks into a wide grin as it realizes my diagonal cut will miss him. What he doesn�t realize till too late is that the four blades trailing along behind all have his name on them. Even a last-minute dodge is insufficient for him to escape damage.

In the midst of the group, I dance, blades appearing and disappearing as I cut and twist, leaving a trailing array of flying blades behind me. Spells and Skills are triggered as fast as I can, Cleave cutting apart a spellcaster and sending it flying into its friends. Fireballs targeted at the epicenter of the group wash over me and them, dealing pain and confusion in equal amounts.

The teams I�m fighting are dangerous, high Level Basic fighters that chip and damage Sabre. I have to pull the mecha back after a while, scared that the PAV will be wrecked before we start the real war. In my armored skinsuit, I fight, Blink Stepping and calling forth Lightning Bolts even as the teams attempt to kill me. I�m constantly throwing up my Soul Shield as it shatters, drawing upon the Mana Battery recklessly while I fight.

And all along, I get glimpses of the larger battle. The smoke from the initial attack is slowly dissipating, reinforcements shattering a hole in the transparent wall and additional Skills holding it apart. The Zarrie pull back as the tide of battle turns against them while ranged spells fall against their prepared position. Another ritual spell is enacted when the majority of our enemies have fallen back, the spell completed a second after the quantum lock is released. And then our attackers are gone.

At that point, the remainder of the team I�m fighting throws down their weapons, as do the rest of those left behind. Their surrender leaves us with no outlet for our wrath as the mangled remains of our friends remind us that this time, we lost.

Chapter 14

Hours after the attack, we pull the army together and get moving. We change the way we do things, with the scouts on our flanks significantly increased and more frequent check-ins. In addition, each team is now able to watch each other, the zones they�re scouting reduced to allow this to happen. And there are more changes, drones and Skills put into place while we recover from the attack that took out nearly a third of the vanguard. Too many damn teams, too many people.

For all that, when Miller makes the call, I�m not surprised. The Portal back to have the conversation in person is quick.

�General,� I greet Miller, who is bent over the System-generated map, muttering orders to his people.

�Mr. Lee. Thank you for coming,� Miller says as he walks over to me. �It looks like the next step of the operation must begin earlier than we expected.�

�Sounds good,� I say, flashing him a grim smile. �If I knew what it was.�

�Ah, yes.� Miller shrugs unapologetically and waves me over to look at the map. �We�ll need you to leave the teams for now. For the next step, you�ll need both your team and Sargent Johnson�s.�

�I thought they were part of the Master Class kill groups.�

�They were,� Miller says. �Now, you�ll need them to help you get into LA itself. The following route is what we�d recommend��

�Miller�� I say warningly, unhappy about how obtuse he�s being. I understand the need for it, but he�s asking me to bring my friends into the middle of the lions� den. And as we have learned, they are more than ready to deal with my Skills.

�Mr. Lee, you are skilled. High Leveled. A veritable god of war on the battlefield from what my men say,� Miller says, meeting my eyes. �But right now, you�re a soldier. Now, you can decide to be an officer, to make the decisions and run this battle. And if you do, I�ll step aside.� I see more than a few of his men shift, obviously uncomfortable with his words. �Because there can�t be more than one commander, not at this time. But you chose to step aside earlier, and I cannot, will not, have more of my men risk their lives if you are going to change your mind in the middle of the operation.�

I grit my teeth, my temper flaring as he calls me to the carpet. A part of me wonders why he didn�t do it somewhere else, somewhere more private. But mostly, I�m thinking. Thinking of what he said, of the decisions I�ve made. Miller�s right. Stepping aside to let the army personnel run the fight was a deliberate choice, one based on the belief that they know what they�re doing better than I do. Now, we�re bloodied and hurt and our people have died. And maybe I could have done something better, and maybe I couldn�t have. But here I am, jostling his elbow because now he�s putting the people I care about in danger. Now, I�ve got to risk more than my life, and I realize that doubt is eating away at me. Not knowing, not understanding is making me question when I shouldn�t.

I can either accept that he�s in charge or I can take over. What is is. Choose or not, but I can�t keep coming back to it. Once again, I go over the reasons why I stepped aside. My lack of training. My lack of people skills. My lack of knowledge of the Skills and people involved. The crushing responsibility and guilt for all the lives that will be lost. And perhaps most importantly of all, my final goals. Running the war, running each battle in the USA is not important. Not for me.

I exhale raggedly, pushing aside the anger and the petty jealousy. The desire to be the one in charge. The doubt that we�re being hung out to dry. My personal doubts about authority. There�s a war to fight and me questioning Miller is not helping. �Sorry. Tell me what needs to be done.�

�Good,� Miller says.

He gestures to one of the aides, who hurries out of the room, before he turns back to the table, a glowing green line appearing at his gesture. The line charts where he wants me to go, the locations I need to hit. While I upload the data into my HUD and memorize the route, I also spend time assessing it, making mental notes for areas of particular interest. A hill here, a tall building there, a dam another place.

Before I can ask any questions, I�m interrupted by the presence of three new individuals. They�re all entertainers�two Actors and a Performer, I realize. I frown, curious, but Miller shakes his head.

�Give them your hand, Mr. Lee.�

I grunt and do so, watching as the first touches it. I feel a surge of Mana wash over me, one that is mostly benign in nature. Rather than resist it, I let it penetrate me, knowing that Miller must have a reason. One after the other, the entertainers touch me, step back, and nod to Miller before they are dismissed.

�I�m not getting an explanation, am I?�

�No.�

�Figured,� I grumble slightly, intrigued but silent for now.

You�d think that a single settlement shield, a piece of technology that lays a wall of force across the entirety of a region, would be sufficient to stop stealthy incursions. If you did�and I did�you�d be wrong. After all, why bother with sense when the System is in play?

�Move,� Johnson hisses at me.

I jolt forward, ducking through the glowing hole in the settlement shield that one of his soldiers has created. I�m not even sure what kind of spell it is that can breach a settlement shield without alerting anyone, but I make note to find out. And to perhaps institute regular in-settlement patrols on our own settlements.

As I duck through, I skitter out of the way of the window, being careful of where I place my feet on the unsteady floor while the quantum lock notification appears in my HUD. The settlement shield was generated in a sphere, one that cares not for minor non-System-developed features like commercial buildings. As such, we�re breaching the settlement shield from the second floor of a squat commercial building that once housed a clothing store below and a dental office above. I�m somewhat amused that the ladies took the seconds to shove a few particularly pretty handbags into my hands for storage and that the settlement shield bisected the entire store neatly in the middle. Even so, the building seems to be mostly intact, which is why it was chosen.

You Have Entered the Village of Pasadena

Mana flows in this area are stabilized. No monster spawning will happen.

This Safe Space includes:

Village of Pasadena City Center

The Shop

Tier IV Settlement Shield

The team streams in after me, the puppies the only ones who have trouble squeezing through the opening. Once through, the hole slowly shrinks, leaving us trapped with hundreds of our enemies. Of course, if we do end up fighting them, we�re doing something wrong.

Ingrid and another soldier disappear after a moment, the pair heading out to scout, while Johnson sits with us, his own Skill�Shadow Cloak�hiding us from technological and Skill scrutiny. Or so we�re forced to assume. With nothing to do and unable to tap into our Skills or spells, we�re forced to wait in tense silence. Even speaking is discouraged, since the possibility of an individual with enhanced senses is a major concern.

Seated next to the air filter, I find myself leaning against the wall and thinking about the progress of the war, Lana leaning against me and working on her businesses in her own System windows. Even though I know this is how she�s dealing with the stress, I almost feel guilty about not checking up on my settlements. Almost. But first things first, we�ve got to survive this war.

We�re a couple of settlements ahead of the main fighting force from Fort Irwin, and if the plan goes well, we�ll be sneaking through this suburb into the next, making our way slowly into LA itself. Cutting through the Angeles National Forest and its higher Level monsters gave us a way to sneak in that would be much more difficult for the larger army. Over the following few days, the Fort Irwin army will take over the settlements in the way, going on a slow and steady route rather than a blitzkrieg approach. That should reduce the likelihood that the Zarrie ambushes succeed, even if we give them more opportunities to do so. At the same time, I know that Camp Pendleton will step up their own attacks, pushing the Zarrie in the south and threatening their settlements there, forcing them to fight a battle on two fronts.

There�s a danger to that of course�the Zarrie could easily concentrate their forces and hit us hard, a term that I believe is defeat in detail. But that�s where the other aspect of the plan lies, the one that I�ve begun to realize is Miller�s goal. If we can get in deep enough, we can cause real trouble for the Zarrie while their men are busy. They�ve shown the ability to teleport large numbers of their men, more than we can. But it seems to require a significant number of individuals and cast time, something that we don�t need. If they can teleport in, we can teleport out. Or better, teleport our people in to where they expect to be safe.

And that�s what I think we might actually be going for, a location where the Master Classes will be. It�s why we�re trekking all over with Johnson�s people, checking out different spots. Because it�s not enough to take over the City Cores�those are, at best, temporary victories. While controlling them ensures that last-minute reinforcements via teleportation pads and instantaneous System-assisted communication is removed, it isn�t a guarantee of victory.

No, what we need to do to win is to destroy their ability to fight back. Their forces. And in that sense, the three Master Class Combat Classers are the main targets. Taking them out will reduce the Zarrie�s ability to wage an effective war, leaving them with only their non-Combat Master Classers within Los Angeles itself. A group that we can defeat as we take the City Cores.

In the world of the System, wars aren�t about land or resources. Or perhaps people are the resources of import. A single Master Class individual can change the face of a battle with a single Skill.

Which is why we�re moving in deeper than ever. We�ve already crossed most of the areas where the army will fight, close enough that I can wield my Portal Skill to put us there if a Master Class appears and I�m ordered to do so. Of course, we�d have to break the quantum lock that the shield has in place, but I�m certain that if I�m called, those will go down. But�

But meeting the Master Class individuals in battle, in a time and place that they know of, is a bad idea. They haven�t gotten this far by being stupid, and not having at least a few modes of retreat would be the definition of foolish. No. We need to hit them where they don�t expect it, which is why we�re sneaking in deep. If we can hit them when they�re not expecting it, when they�ve retreated or are resting, we might just have a chance.

Of course, the fact that I�m not at the various battle grounds might be a bit of a tip-off. Which is where the entertainers come in. Really, it didn�t take a genius to realize what they were for once I actually took the time to think about it. Hopefully though, since none of them had a conversation with me nor did Miller discuss matters directly, the actual plan to use them hasn�t been compromised. Once again, we�re relying on the exactness of information gathering in the System to launch our sneak attack.

Exhaling slowly, I find Lana looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. I shake my head, unable to tell her my thoughts and uncertain of what to say really. It is what it is. Either this gamble works, or we�re going to get stuck fighting in close quarters against more people than I�d like. Rather than answer me verbally, Lana flashes me a smile and hands me a bar of chocolate before turning back to her interface.

Tension mounts as one day turns into another. Cut off from any news, we can only move forward, sneaking from building to building, hiding from patrols and civilians in equal measure, working our way in deeper. We rely on a mixture of our scouts� abilities, Sam�s drones, and the pets enhanced senses to give us warning. Even then, it�s slow going.

As I hunker behind an abandoned dumpster, its contents well past ripe and moving into that rarified sphere of rancid, I find myself holding my breath as an unanticipated Jarack Bounty Hunter saunters down the street, his black furred head turning side to side. The brown stripe running across its face gives it a weird, patchy look. Occasionally, the Jarack cocks its head to the side, sniffing loudly as it attempts to catch new scents.

Across the street, holding on to the wall by his fingertips, is Sam, his face red with the physical strain and his held breath. He�s barely ten feet off the ground, a vertical jump that took him out of the direct line of sight of the Jarack, but he�s vulnerable to the creature�s nose, even under the effects of Carlos�s scentless potion. Our scents have been diminished, not erased. It doesn�t help that I�m certain that the damn Jarack has a Skill that expands its senses.

Again the Jarack snuffles, its head tilted before it takes a few steps forward. Then it stops, cocking its head and sniffing again. I almost growl in frustration. A sudden crackle of sound from its communicator, set to speak softly but so loud in the silence around us, almost makes me jump. The Jarack growls and whines, its language translated in text for me by Ali.

�At Y 45, Z 38. Smelled something. New smell. Human. Not native. Beam weaponry. Old blood. No. No trace. Yes. I hunt runners. Six hundred Credits. No. Six. Five. Yes. No. I no want. Four five. Okay. Deposit half.�

The creature seems to smirk, its lips widening, then it looks around once more. It speaks after a moment, this time in English. �Lucky prey. New job pay more than stragglers. I have scent. I come back later. Best run. Run fast��

Cackling to itself and us, its half-laugh half-howl setting our hairs on edge, the Jarack drops to its hands and lopes off. I blink, not having seen any others do that. Then again, this particular Jarack seemed more animalistic than others.

�Gods,� Mikito whispers next to me after the Galactic has been gone for five minutes, making me jump.

I stare at her, wondering when she managed to creep up on me. I must have been too focused on the damn monster.

�Johnson says move. No more daydreaming.�

Grunting, I scan the buildings one last time, an action that makes Mikito almost prod me in the back before I skitter forward. By this time, Sam�s already dropped down and disappeared down the alleyway, moving to the next point.

A day later, Ingrid comes back in the evening, armored jumpsuit torn and a slightly wide look in her eyes.

�Time to go.�

�Ingrid?� I say with a frown, already crossing to her.

Carlos beats me to it, a healing spell washing over her form, it�s tell-tale colors muted as Carlos pays the extra Mana to hide the illumination.

�Caught the bounty hunter sneaking up on us. He�d already caught Malik when I got there.�

�Malik?� Johnson asks concernedly.

�He�s fine. Watching the exit. We used Carlos�s goop potion on the body too,� Ingrid clarifies.

Johnson nods, relief flashing across his face. Without a further word, Ingrid steps aside, and the rest of the team crosses to the door toward our exit route. By now, this is all routine.

Chapter 15

Days of sneaking, creeping from one block to another. Our progress is agonizingly slow, our scouts forced to divert around clusters or, in some cases, push us through them at a run. And all the time, we make our way deeper, following the roughly mapped route.

Now, we all can see why. A simple piece of information, bought from the Shop. Because all that knowledge that can be bought cuts both ways.

After days, even if all the other areas we�ve been to haven�t panned out, we�re here. Overlooking the former mansion, now refurbished and upgraded to suit Galactic tastes. Plants that none of us recognize lie around the well-kept lawns, the only visible defensive measure. Gold and brown, its walls reflect the desert sunlight while misters keep the inside cool. A weird mixture of high-tech and low, but who am I to complain?

My first sight of two of the Master Classes comes a few hours later. First is a Jarack, a staggering nine-foot-tall monster, its fur doing little to hide the rippling muscles that make up its animalistic form. It walks out of the house and lounges on a chair, a haunch of barely cooked meat in its hand. After the haunch is mostly done, the creature tosses the meat to one of the cactus-like plants that lunges forward, its spiky body opening to clamp shut on the bone.

W�mee of the Three Sands, Heretic of the Dawn, Slayer of Grayak Scorpions and Master of the Yellow Pit (Level 18 Singer of the Thrice-Dipped Blades)

HP: 4280/4280

MP: 1780/1780

Conditions: Skin of Basalt, The Sands Blessing

�Sands Blessing?� I send to Ali, getting a mental shrug back. I almost want to growl at him, but without a direct connection to the Shop, Ali�s a little more limited in his research possibilities.

Still, after a moment he sends more information. �Probably an overall damage reduction buff.�

A thin, obsidian-skinned female clad in nothing but her birthday suit walks out soon after. A moment�s view and I realize that she doesn�t look dark, she literally is dark�a creature made of fleshy stone that shifts unnaturally as she walks. It�s almost as if she doesn�t have a skeleton. Standing next to W�mee, the woman speaks in the Jarack�s language. We�re too far away for Ali to hear and translate, so I can only consider the creature before me.

Km, Mistress of the Purple Pit, Slayer of Goblins, Hakarta, Jarack, Minaa and Griffons (Level 8 Obsidian Oracle)

HP: 980/980

MP: 7830/7830

Conditions: Skin of Obsidian, Earthen Link, The Stone�s Memory

We watch in silence for a time. Km returns to the residence before W�mee does an hour later. Without anything further to hold our attention, most of us fall back, leaving a single scout to watch and report. As much as we�d like to attack, we have to wait to give the others time to get in position.

�Correct me if I�m wrong,� Johnson says, his voice soft, �but you only get Slayer titles when you�ve killed a large number of individuals, right?�

�Yes,� Ali answers, frowning. �Total numbers vary depending on the creature�after all, otherwise it�d be real easy to get a Slayer of Ants or Goblins�but we�re looking at thousands at the minimum.�

�Balls�� curses one of the soldiers, his hair closely cut in an attempt to hide his balding top spot. Ian something. Redford. A quick glance at his name confirms it. �She�s a stone-cold killer, that one.�

Groans erupt. Somehow, the image of a cursing, punning soldier never made its way into collective media. Probably for the best.

�We�re thinking close combat build for the jackal?� Johnson says, pulling our attention back to business. At the nods and words of agreement, Johnson continues. �We�ll need teams three and five on him then. In the short term, Ms. Pearson��

�Lana,� Lana reminds Johnson, who shrugs.

�Km looks to be specced as a Mage. She should be our first target,� I say, rubbing my chin. �I don�t like that Earthen Blessing�it could be a damage reduction or damage shifting Skill. If that�s the case, she�ll probably be a lot harder to kill than her health actually indicates.�

�If you boys open up on her, I�ll finish off the job,� Ingrid says from her position against the wall, where she�s carefully cleaning her nails with a knife.

�Not a bad plan,� I say. �We still got the last Master Class to handle.�

�The Bastion, right? Defensive caster?� Mikito says.

�Closer to Mike,� Ali corrects. �A Paladin-like build�good healing, good area control, and high defense.�

�Teams One and Four then?� Johnson says musingly.

�Four to six,� I reply. That�ll put one Hakarta team and the marines on him, which means mostly long-range fire and overwhelming explosions. It should, with care, at least push the Bastion to stay on the defensive and out of helping his teammates, allowing us to finish the fight.

�And you, Mr. Lee?� Johnson asks, his head tilted.

�I�ll throw in where I�m needed, but I�ll start on the mage once everyone is Ported here,� I say after some consideration.

Better to finish her than to wait. Johnson and his team, while strong, aren�t really suited for the all-out combat we can expect. It�s why we�re going to be pushing his people to the outskirts to guard against reinforcements when this finally kicks off.

After that, we sketch out the battle plans a bit more. There�s no guarantee we�ll fight all three of them at once, even if that is our goal. We have no concern about being overheard�after all, if they know enough to ask those kinds of questions, they know enough to find and end us.

Two days pass. Two days because there was no good way to estimate how long it�d have taken us to get in, so we�re working on an estimated timeline for everyone else to get into place. And so we find ourselves watching the Master Classers. It�s rare for all three of them to hang out at the same time in the same building. I would have expected them to stay by themselves, but whether it�s because they�re an old team, forced to work together, or some other form of politics, they�re all sticking to the same residence. That makes our life easier, since we know where they are. Theoretically. Problem is, they�re rarely home.

That fast becomes the major concern. That one day when the two Master Classers were together was an anomaly. Often, the mansion is empty of them all; other times, only a single Master Classer is around. It�s no surprise�the armies must be pushing forward, and the Master Classers are their most powerful weapons. While it�s not a good idea for them to always be on the front�and I understand the politics involved mean that they aren�t likely to follow orders that closely anyway�they probably have other, closer, resting areas. When they do come back to the mansion, we get to see some of the after-effects of the fights�a scorched tail here, a slightly different body configuration on Km there. And still, we wait.

This morning sees the return of Km, the mage looking as though she�s been put through the grinder. Instead of smooth, shiny skin, its scratched and marred, pieces chipped away and some dark fluid leaking out. The damage is surprising, since injuries under the aegis of the System heal within ten minutes mostly. I squint, calling up her Status.

Km (Level 8 Obsidian Oracle, Mistress of the Purple Pit, Slayer of Goblins, Hakarta, Jarack, Minaa, Griffons)

HP: 631/980

MP: 7830/7830

Conditions: Skin of Obsidian, Earthen Link (Disrupted), The Stone�s Memory (Corrupted), Chipped * 3

�Chipped?�

�Like it? I figured that�s the closest explanation I could find. It�s the Ez�s equivalent of losing a� hmmm� finger? Fingers? Since they�re fluid in their construction, damage for them is a bit longer lasting. She�ll need to rest to heal, but she will heal.�

�They did good,� I mutter softly, my voice muffled by the helmet.

Once she�s gone, we settle back into our usual routine of waiting. For a moment, I regard my friends, wondering if any of them will fall today. Ingrid�s in her corner, playing with her knife and a System-generated screen game. I still can�t see her Level and I�m fast believing that I never will. Still, I�m pretty sure from conversations I�ve overheard that she�s at least over Level 10 in her Advanced Class.

Mikito�s downstairs, going through her forms with a pair of soldiers, training as always. Between her constant training and dungeon delving, she�s the highest Leveled of our team at Level 17. Lana, on the other hand, is the lowest, barely crossing Level 4 now that she�s stopped splitting her experience. She�s busy on her screen, reading for pleasure now that she�s caught up on all her paperwork. When I asked Lana earlier what she was reading, she showed me the cover of a bodice ripper by someone called Georgette Heyer. Not surprisingly, I backed off pretty fast, though the predatory glint in her eye made me wonder if she was getting the wrong idea.

Both Sam and Carlos have caught up with Lana, having spent more time dedicated to their actual Classes, and are at Level 9 and 10. They�ve taken over a floor upstairs after having promised to be careful about the kind of experiments they�ll do. They�ve roped in a couple of Johnson�s men, when they aren�t on watch, to help with their experiments.

Me? I just curled up and got back to reading.

� to work around the low sample size of Master Class subjects, we used a large number of specialized Advanced Classers, many of whom have dedicated their unassigned attributes to enhance assigned attributes. As such, we were able, as you can see in the following graph, to gather a statistically significant sample size of individuals with attributes above 500. This researcher does understand that the limitation of insufficient Master Class subjects might alter the results of this experiment, but believes that, following research done by Re & Makow and the Vuu Institute, such differences will be minimal.

Initial results from the experiment (see attached charts 42, 43, 44) indicate that overall increases in abilities do not progress in a highly correlated fashion. Overall trends do indicate a diminishing return upon reaching attribute levels over 100 (approximately, see additional discussion by Wexq, Fre, and Immik for attribute level progression). However, when examined from the perspective of species traits, a closer direct relationship between levels may be found.

It is advanced in this paper that it is due to some of the inherent features in a+ species that dictate the level progression in attributes for an individual. By understanding and conducting further research on each individual, it might be possible to ascertain the specific increases and alterations that increases in an attribute might create on a physical, mental, and molecular basis.

Hours creep by as I work through the dense scientific paper, jumping from one article to another, following the rabbit hole of information. Sometimes I have to put down a note, as I�ve yet to purchase those papers or referenced books. Other times, I find myself jotting notes about mistakes or areas I disagree with.

I�m so caught up in what I�m doing, I barely notice the heat of the California sun beating down on the un-air-conditioned room we�re in or when Johnson hisses at us. I turn, and he raises a single finger, pointing at the window. It doesn�t take me long to see the Bastion sauntering back with a grin. Once again, I reflect on the three-fingered, mildly-scaled figure with its long tail, wondering where exactly they came across the lazy special effects guy to do his makeup. Seriously, how �non-human� he looks is as bad as some old sci-fi TV shows, other than the too-realistic fingers and tail.

S'hu�mma, Defender of The Sixth Oasis (Level 16 Sand Bastion)

HP: 4880/4880

MP: 4190/4190

Conditions: None

A second later, a chirp comes from Johnson�s earbud. He stiffens, tilting his head as he listens. My lips press together, knowing that there�s only one way he�s getting any information�single-use extra-strong communication options from the Shop. They�re single-use since Miller bought the best they had. We have no clue how strong the disruption fields the Zarrie have are, so we limited each team to two communications devices.

Johnson listens before he nods and looks up. �Gather up.� Within seconds, we�re all gathered around the Sargent. �We�re a go for Operation Barracuda. We take the Bastion first, then the Oracle. Redeemer will hold back.�

I grunt, eyeing the quantum lock in the corner of my eyes. There�s barely a murmur from my friends or the soldiers as they pull back, Lana stopping for a moment to squeeze my shoulder. I notice one of the soldiers exit, obviously to alert the rest of the team.

Within seconds, the group have gathered their belongings and left the building, leaving me alone. I turn back to the windows to watch, unable to do anything as yet. Bastion has stopped moving forward, his head cocked, a readiness through his body that was not there before. Obviously, Johnson�s message was noted. From my vantage point, knowing what to look for, I can see my team moving forward, using cover like the pros they�ve become.

�Come on�� Ali mutters, staring into space.

A flicker in the lock, and a few seconds later, a low rumble from the east. So soft I would never have heard it before the System and the increase in my Perception. For the puppies and Lana though, it�s clear as day, from the way they shift and stare before turning away. Bastion obviously hears it, his lips pulling apart, but he makes no move, continuing to stand in the middle of the streets. A flicker of movement in the mansion that holds the Ez is all the indication I get about her. Thankfully, the vast majority of the houses around here are empty, the humans having congregated around the Shops and the Galactics having either done the same or gone out fighting.

I force myself to breathe as my chest tightens, anxiety creeping up on me as time crawls by. Minutes of stasis is broken by Bastion snarling and walking toward the mansion. As he does so, I spot another group approaching. A quick dial-in of my helmet gives me some details. Ali provides more.

�All four Advanced Classes. Three fighters, one spellcaster,� Ali says.

Meeting Bastion right outside the mansion, the Advanced Classers jabber and yowl away. I snarl slightly, realizing that our team is running into more trouble than they counted on. But there�s nothing I can do.

The battle starts with a barrage of spells, beam discharges, and grenades targeted on Bastion. The first few land on him, unobstructed by any Skill, and he staggers, light cuts running across his body. Within seconds, the barrage stops hitting as a shield forms around the four. The Jarack Advanced Classers spin around�two pulling rifles, another a giant axe, while the healer buffs the group�moments before the close combat fighters attack, exploding from behind the hastily thrown wall.

Ingrid stabs the healer, putting her knife into its throat and ripping sideways. It gurgles, not dead but disabled, clutching at its furred throat. As it falls down, Roland appears from the shadows and pounces on it, jaws clamping on his head and crushing while its feet claw at the body. I know that strike, Massive Pounce, and it adds a stun effect, along with massive bonuses to damage. A part of me pities the healer. A very, very small part.

Meanwhile, the puppies target the Bastion. Shadow goes low, ripping into ankle and knee, while Howard goes high, clamping its jaws around a hastily thrown up arm. Strong as the Master Class might be, physics still have a say in this world, and he gets taken down to the ground. As the Bastion struggles, Anna lashes out with her flames at the Jarack Advanced Classers, her attacks reflecting off the remaining shield and cooking them from within.

Caught outside the fast-created shield wall, Mikito and Lana are attacking it with fury, doing their best to wear it down while Carlos stays back, his gun held ready to deal with reinforcements. Without the Master Class controlling it, the shield wall seems to be lacking its offensive abilities, which is good. Redford is working his magic, ripping a slowly growing hole with his magic while the others get ready to scurry in. The tiny hole is sufficient, allowing Sam to send in drones to lay down additional cover fire.

Surprise keeps the Galactics on the backfoot for a few precious seconds, but soon enough, the Galactics recover. The puppies get thrown aside, blasted away by the Bastion with a Skill. The Master Classer stands up, looking only mildly damaged after having been chewed upon. While searching his surroundings, he bats Roland out of the air when the tiger pounces at him. Smartly, the First Nations woman has disappeared already, her job with the healer complete. Unfortunately, the remaining pets aren�t as lucky. The Advanced Classers turn their attacks on Anna, who takes a beating, her fires doing little to ward off the blades and beams.

Lana screams, watching as Anna is hurt. Carlos and one of Johnson�s men focuses on the fox, doing their best to prop up the pet�s health. But it�s a losing cause with so many attacks focused against the creature. A final swing sends the fox flying, her body nearly severed in two, limp and bloody. Still, her sacrifice was not for nothing. Johnson and his men spill into the gap, turning the Advanced Classers on them. Mikito darts in soon after, headed straight for the Bastion.

As the Master Classer turns his attention to the assailants outside, a spike erupts from the wall, intent on tearing apart Johnson�s shield breaker. Another of his men steps in, holding forth his hands and stopping the spike cold. There�s strain on the soldier�s face as his Mana shield diverts the attack, but he can do nothing as another plunges into Lana�s side, ripping open her shoulder.

A rumble, this time much closer to us, distracts everyone for a moment. At the same time, the teleportation lock disappears and I bare my teeth. Barely a minute has passed since the attack, but already Km is on her way out. I decide to put a stop to that, as well as trigger my side of this desperate plan. I step backward then rush the wall, springing at full speed.

Blink Step. Once. Then again.

Vertigo rushes through me at the sudden shift of space again and again, but it disappears as quickly as it comes, allowing me to use my built-up momentum to slam into the newly emerged Oracle. A part of me notices that she seems to still be slightly damaged, but I�m mostly focused on my sword, the newly formed blade twisting in her body. Surprisingly, it only gets a few inches deep. A moment later, Thousand Blades is activated, blades forming next to my hand as I twist the sword, forcing the newly formed blades to arc toward her body. Surprised or not, she flips backward, gracefully avoiding my attacks while a rock shelf lifts me into the air.

Twisting while airborne, I focus. Not on her, but on the Portal I need, creating it so that the waiting teams can stream in to help, splitting my focus between Ali�s and my views. Flying through the air as I am, the hastily cast Portal hangs two feet above the air and slightly canted, but that doesn�t stop the Hakarta who are waiting.

�Teams Two, Three, Five, and Six are scrambling. We need the Portal for four minutes, Redeemer,� Alvarez barks over the newly restored communication channel.

Rock wraps around me, quickly engulfing my body. I grunt, feeling my connection to the Portal waver a little, and I�m forced to rely solely on Ali�s view and our connection. As the rock constricts me, my concentration wavers before I bite my lip and focus. Armor, meant to stop projectiles and beam weaponry, does nothing to stop the attack as she compresses my body, crushing bone and stealing air from my lungs. My health drops and I realize I have no shield. I curse my carelessness, having paid so much attention to the fight and my friends� situation that I neglected my own preparations.

I focus through the pain, biting my bottom lip as my attention splits. Spells form, boosting my regeneration first. Then healing to fix bones that are slowly being crushed, skin that sizzles as the Oracle adds heat to the liquid rock around me. But still, I stay within her attack, forcing her to concentrate on me as the Portal spits out our friends. Trading pain for people.

Of course, like me, the caster can split her attention. Many of the first Hakarta to jump in are now engulfed in thigh-high mud, trapped. But rather than let it stop them, the Hakarta are grabbing and tossing incomers out of range of the spell, accepting the pain to allow their friends to engage the Oracle. Seeing her attacks failing to stop them, she falls back, a pair of rock elementals flowing up from the ground to slow her attackers.

�Move, move, move,� chants one of the Hakarta. Galactics or not, it seem certain words are universal.

In the shield, Mikito and Ingrid are sparring with the Bastion, forcing him to pay attention to them while Roland sneaks in to land his occasional attacks. The puppies and drones have joined forces to harass the Advanced Classers, the drones throwing out beam attacks, napalm, and flash bursts to confuse and hurt, as well as the occasional vertical shield to block attacks and jar bodies. Meanwhile, Johnson and the remnants of his team in the shield are picking off each Advanced Classer, pouring fire and flame while Carlos does his best to heal everyone. Already, the soldier who had guarded the hole opener is on the ground, unmoving.

�Boy-o, she�s not channeling anymore,� Ali informs me, bringing attention back to my own condition.

I realize he�s right�the rock�s no longer crushing, just sizzling. I Blink Step and pop up behind the Oracle.

�Boo,� I whisper hoarsely. Not that she can hear me, not through my helmet.

Once more, I thrust my sword forward, lunging into full extension. I use Cleave and Elemental Strike at the same time, adding to my attack. The blade, empowered by Skill and physics, plunges through her empowered, buffed body.

Blade Strike. Twisting with my hips, I rip the sword out sideways, the initial edge of my attack burrowing through her body to aid my movement. My blade catches, barely shifting a few inches in her body, but the scream of grating rock and the fresh, oily liquid that flows from her speaks of grievous injury. Even as I recover, a Hakarta in what I can only describe as spiky football armor tackles her away from me. He�s closely followed by his entire team, each of them piling onto her, the rubble of her stone elementals a testament to their effectiveness. As I move to join them, a razor cloud of dust and shattered earthen flooring rises, cutting into exposed skin and blinding those within it. Reflexively, I stagger backward.

�Redeemer!� Johnson shouts, dragging my attention back to the shield.

I grunt, surprised to see that the Bastion is not only still standing but managing to float away with little damage, his shield now constricted around his body. Globs of energy form around the shield, shooting forward once in a while to attack the gathered Advanced Class team members, forcing them to block the attacks. He might be mostly unharmed, but not so the Jarack Advanced Classers. Mikito, unable to reach the Master Classer, has thrown herself against the unfortunate Galactics. The last member falls, unable to get his footing under the combined assault of the Samurai and the puppies.

I glance at my Mana, snarling as I assess the fight. Not enough. I will Sabre to activate a Greater Mana Potion and feel the hypodermic needle punch into my skin. The liquid rushes through my body, increasing my Mana. Another thought has me drawing upon the Mana Battery to fill my empty tank. It�s a rush, but it makes me shudder slightly too, as it always does. But it�s enough, more than enough.

�Foolish. You bugs will not survive,� the Bastion hisses, his voice slithery and cold, beady gold eyes glittering with malice. He�s confident, safe in the protection of his shield.

�Not today,� I say, raising my sword above my head.

I call forth the Skill, stepping forward and cutting as I do so. Around me, twelve ghostly swords appear and repeat my attack, Blade Strikes arcing out from the newly formed swords to smash against the Bastion�s shield, each strike thrice the size and intensity of any I�ve conjured before. It smashes into the Bastion�s already weakened shield, shattering it and cutting into his flesh.

Moments later, Carlos fires his little grenade / potion launcher directly at the Master Classer. The Bastion snorts dismissively, seemingly undamaged from that attack, his body already visibly healing. Other attacks from the team bounce off him, but then a look of surprise flashes across his face.

�Ikaaaaaaaaaaaa?� the Bastion screams as he plunges to the ground, gravity reasserting itself on his floating form.

�He can�t use Skills for the next few seconds!� Carlos shouts, alerting us of the opportunity he�s given us.

Without coaching, the rest of the long-range attackers open up, throwing Spells and Skills at the prone form. Everyone opens up. Behind me, I hear the continued battle as Teams Two and Three keep the Stone Oracle busy, shattering walls and setting the dried ground on fire as that tempest of rock howls.

I�d help, but reeling from Mana loss, I find myself sitting down. I�m not completely out of Mana, but with barely a hundred left, it�s close enough that I feel sick. Mana sickness from overuse and overdrawing of Mana is a major issue for those of us with high Mana levels. It�s a weird phenomena since even a year ago, this level of Mana would have been my maximum. The loss of Mana is almost like drug withdrawal, or what I think a drug withdrawal would feel like.

By the time I recover, drawing on my Mana Battery to fill the hungering void in my body, the battle is nearly done. Tough as the Bastion might be, without his protective Skills, his health falls like a waterfall under the combined assault of our teams. Even the close-range fighters like Mikito have long-range attacks which they add to the pile, wiping away the Bastion�s health. As I raise my hand to attack, a notification pops up.

Level Up!

You�ve reached Level 49 as an Erethran Honor Guard. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 3 Free Attribute Points and 1 Class Skill Point to distribute.

One nice thing about this world is that if you pay attention, the System clues you in when someone is well and truly dead. Small things like experience gains�though just by being part of this war, I�m getting a small trickle of experience constantly�and sometimes, bigger notifications like this one. I push the notification away, looking for the Oracle. Instead, I see the two teams tasked with her attack coming back. Half of them split off to deal with the carnivorous cactus inside the compound.

�Report,� Johnson says to one of the other soldiers.

�Sir, the last target is currently engaged southwest with the Marines,� the soldier replies. �General Miller informs you that you and the Redeemer are on independent command for now. Forces from Fort Irwin are recovering from the attack conducted by the Oracle and the Bastion.�

Johnson�s lips tighten, obviously understanding what the soldier�s implying. If they�re recovering, it means the two Master Classers must have laid on the hurt. Still, there�s nothing much to be done about it now, and if there is revenge to be taken, we�ve certainly done so. The smoking corpse that Ingrid is busy looting is more than testament to that fact.

�We dealt with the Oracle?� I say, frowning as I turn back. A flicker of shame crosses the faces of the teams designated to handle her�at least those not covered by full-face masks. �What happened?�

�She created a series of stone simulacrum. Simulacra? Your English is very imprecise. By the time we destroyed them all, she�d slipped away,� one of the Hakarta answers. �Probably an Earth Movement Skill or Spell.�

I grimace, hating that we didn�t manage to finish off both the Master Classes. That was the point of our attacks after all. Now, we�ll have to track her down again. If we can.

�Redeemer. By your leave, I�ll take my men and attempt to penetrate the next settlement to remove their shield. This settlement shield still needs to be destroyed and its City Core taken,� Johnson says, offering his �recommendation.�

�Sure. Team Two, hit the shield generator. Team Three, we need communication back. Johnson, get us a way into the next settlement. The rest of us are going to hit the City Core. We�ll keep hitting them until they turn around and hammer us. And remember, we�re the distraction now, not the main event,� I say, glancing at the teams. I get nods all around, and I find myself smiling grimly. �Good. Move people. We�ve got work to do.�

Chapter 16

Hours later, we�ve managed to take down the shield generator and take the City Core for the section of town that comprises Alhambra and parts of south Pasadena. A part of me is amused by the first, thinking more of a classic board game than desert-baked avenues.

�Anything?� I ask as we walk out of the Core room, Kim already patched in and feeding me settlement data.

Ali and Kim feed much of the relevant data to the teams still in the settlement, directing them to the last few holdouts we can locate. Luckily, it�s something that can be done in the background, leaving me mostly free from the buzz of conversation.

�Nothing,� Alvarez says, shaking his head. �General Miller indicates that they�ve pulled back all forces to the north and south. Both armies are advancing with minimal resistance and casualties. Scouts have yet to ascertain the enemy�s gathering point, but it�s believed to be somewhere in south Los Angeles.�

�You thinking they�re looking for a knock-out fight?� I say, frowning.

If they�re willing to give up land to concentrate their forces, whichever army they hit will suffer unless we can join forces. Theoretically, once we�ve got all our people together, we�ll have the advantage of numbers. But it doesn�t matter if they hammer us to pieces while we�re gathering.

�If they�re smart, sure,� Alvarez replies. �The general is leaning toward that, so the armies are moving to link up in Anaheim.�

A few additional words of clarification and a borrowed map gives me an idea. Within the next few hours, the Fort Irwin army should be at south LA, hammering on the settlement shield. The marines will take longer, possibly as long as a half day since they�ve got at least two settlements to punch through. Of course, they could go around, but there�re dangers in that too.

�We moving to link up?� I say with a frown.

I hate giving back the City Cores, especially after we�ve paid for them with blood and tears, but as I glance sideways, I note that the soldiers and my team are already interfacing with the local resistance, who�ve come out of the woodwork. A slightly bitter part of me wonders where they were during the actual fighting. I have to chide myself for that uncharitable thought�the resistance has been conducting hit-and-run tactics for the last year, so it�s no wonder they weren�t exactly set up for a final push. As it stands, their need to hide has keep their Levels suppressed�which is probably another reason they�ve survived so far. Still, they�re numerous and enthusiastic which, all things considered, is the best we can do.

�Yes. Once everything�s settled.� Alvarez adds leadingly, �But we don�t require you or your team at this time.�

�Yeah, yeah. I should get going,� I say. �Though communication will be a problem if I leave.�

�Here.� Alvarez reaches out, a small boxy contraption in his hand.

I take it, my eyes lighting up slightly as I read the notice.

Joola Communication Booster (Tier II)

Military Grade Communication Booster able to deliver your message where and when it needs to be. Joola Tech is the only way to go when what you need to say needs to be heard!

Effect: Disregard all communication interference from shields, communication scramblers, Skills, and Spells below Tier of communication booster. Fifty percent chance of breaking through equivalent tier blockages (chance decreases dependent on proximity to emanating blockage)

Requirements: 1 Hard Point

�Nice�� I stare at the box, unsure of how to use it.

�Slot it into Sabre, boy-o,� Ali says.

I sigh, transforming the mecha. That�s when I run into the next problem. I�m out of slots. After a moment�s hesitation, I extract the Monolam Temporal Cloak, pulling it into my inventory, and slot in the communication booster. There�s a little hum, some movement as Sabre alters itself and the box to ensure that it works. If I�m going to be blaring my position away anyway, there�s no point using the Temporal Cloak.

A few hasty goodbyes and one much less hasty kiss and I�m on the move, headed to meet up with Johnson and his team. They�ll help me breach the necessary shields, hopefully only requiring me to use the damn communication booster once. It�s not exactly a good feeling painting a target on your back.

�Redeemer,� Wier greets me, shaking my hand as I stop outside the impromptu command center set up in the midst of a mall.

�Colonel,� I say, looking around at the organized chaos. �What�s up?�

�We�re entrenching,� Wier says, waving to encompass the hurried work. He doesn�t lead me in, which makes me frown, but I don�t say a thing. I�m not running the war and� �We need you to set waypoints through the line if you can.�

I grunt, knowing he was about to say that. It�s not hugely surprising, since we own this settlement now. Being set up right across from south LA, where we�re pretty certain the Galactics have gathered, we�ll need to be ready. Still, before anything else, I pull a Portal open to drag over Lana and company. When the teams are through and the Portal shut, I get back on Sabre, only to be stopped by Lana.

�Where are you going?� Lana says with a frown.

�Got to set some waypoints along the line and through the city.�

�Then I�m coming,� Lana says. �The boys need a run anyway.�

�That�s�� I frown, and she glares at me. I shut up, deciding that I could use the company. Or perhaps it�s her who could use it.

We take off, Wier having updated my map with his recommended path. At first, we ride in silence, the only sound the soft pad of furred paws, the crunch of walls being torn down, and the distant bark and hiss of firearms.

As the silence grows brittle, I turn my head sideways, speaking to her over the communicator and on a private channel. �How are you doing?�

�I�m healed.�

�I mean, well, you know. Emotionally,� I say. �Ann��

�We knew it was a danger. We had to take the healer down first, and none of us could get any closer. It was a calculated risk to get Ingrid enough time,� Lana says softly, shaking her head.

�I understand,� I say. �But I didn�t ask if the plan was good. I�m asking how you�re doing.�

�I�ll survive. After this. After it�s all over, I�ll make you stop and we�ll find a place and I�ll cry my eyes out. And you�ll hold me. Afterward,� Lana says softly, her words almost an order to put an end to this conversation.

I feel my chest constrict, the ache at the raw, suppressed pain making my eyes blur for a second. Damn it.

Thankfully, without the infamous Los Angeles traffic in play, the entire process takes only a few hours. I make sure to swing wide, patrolling along both the border and where the teams have dug in and a little behind, letting my �map� for where I can drop people off build. After that, we get directed to a nearby apartment building, the highest vantage point available where the rest of the strike teams have gathered.

Not that we have to wait long. I�ve barely got my feet out from under me and a second plate of food in my stomach when the call comes. The Zarrie are on their way, and this time, they�re not playing around. Once they actually cross their settlement shield, we get a direct feed from the drones.

Galactics, so many of them I can�t even count them. It�s not as if I ever learned the skill of mass counting, but it has to be hundreds, maybe thousands. The way they move, I�d be surprised if they weren�t organized in teams like us, flitting forward across the roads and around the buildings. The Galactics are a mixture, nearly half consisting of Jaracks, but there�s Ez, the carapaced fighters, lizard creatures like Bastion, and a scattering of other Galactic types. As always, they�re dressed in a mixture of weaponry and armor, from melee weaponry to modern armor, though most lean toward the last. For a long time, I scan, searching among the faces, before I�m interrupted.

�Got you!� Sam crows.

A moment later, the video feeds shift and split. Highlighted in green, in the midst of the crowd, is the Jarack Master Class and the Oracle. I frown, almost wanting to ask if he�s sure. I hate to say it, but the Jarack and Ez, most of them look similar to me. If not for Ali�s help, I wouldn�t be able to tell the difference.

�Ali��

�Marked.�

I grunt in thanks, watching as they near. An idle thought of opening a Portal to toss a few spells on top of the Master Classers pops into mind, but I discard the thought just as fast. I doubt we�d kill them. And truthfully, I wouldn�t be surprised if the teams next to the Master Classers are there to act as bodyguards. We�ll have to deal with them, but surprise won�t count in this equation.

Alvarez, as always, is with us, having made his way here by now. He walks over to where we�re staring at the main projected screen and squats next to me before he speaks. �We�ll be updating your map with where we need the Portals. But your feedback on which Master Class to target first is sought.�

�The Ez,� I say. �Oracle�s a spellcaster or wide-area Skill user. She�s more dangerous to more people. She�s also shown the ability to run away and the willingness to do so. W�mee�s a brick. He�ll keep going and going, but he ain�t going to be doing much damage overall. Take her down first, focus on containing him.�

Alvarez smiles slightly, nodding. �That�s what we thought too.�

�But��

�But they�re likely going to be expecting that.�

�Did you just use me as the dumb man�s plan?� I ask slightly. Alvarez, of course, doesn�t reply, so I grunt, waving him to continue.

�We�ve got other plans for the teams,� Alvarez says. His hand shifts, my map updating a little before he outlines the updated plan.

I grunt and listen, turning my head to stare at the remaining members of the teams. We�ve all taken a beating, most teams having at least one member and some more than one. These guys are the cream of the crop, people who have shown not just good Levels but an ability to adapt in combat. And yet, the losses are clear. I cannot help but imagine what it�s like for those unlucky enough to be on the frontlines. And a feeling in my gut says that it isn�t the end of our losses yet.

When the armies clash, we watch. The men from Fort Irwin are as dug in as they can be, but the marines have yet to make their way up. By the time they do, this will be over.

Initially, it�s a series of probes, weapons, and spells lobbed at each other at a distance, artillery�or the System equivalent�lobbed at each line as the Galactics push ahead. Without the Bastion, the Galactics are using a mix of Skills and technology to shield their lines, much like us. The temperature rises as fireballs bloom and beam weapons rip the sky apart in flashes of azure light. Ozone permeates the air, along with the unmistakeable smell of cooked human flesh. Galactics all smell different too, burnt fur biting at the nose and alien blood bringing a fruity smell.

So damn much blood. It doesn�t help that the System regenerates it, allowing creatures with legs that have been blown off to crawl forward as they �heal� from the damage. The ground grows soggy, earth churned up under repeated assaults, sewage and other lines exposed to the sky. We can feel it, the searing heat on our flesh, the bitter cold that washes over us as a spell is formed, the wind constantly swirling as different spells take effect.

A woman stands to fire her crossbow and is impaled by a spear. Another mage scrambles forward in front of a fallen friend, his hands crossed as he takes the brunt of an attack, his Mana Shield tearing apart under the stress. A group of Galactics rush the line, the carapaced tank holding forth a shield made up of shield generators and solid Galactic steel. They push forward, fur burning and carapace shattering as area effect attacks hammer them, ivy leaves grasping and tearing. An Advanced Class soldier steps forward, his body glowing, and tears apart the shield with a single exhalation. A moment later, the soldier falls, his shoulder ripped from his body by a whip of flame. All of these moments are but a small portion of the heroics that happen all across the line.

And still, I watch, my stomach clenching as I desire to be out there, doing something.

�Alvarez�� Mikito says softly, asking the major where, when, can we act.

Alvarez shakes his head, his concentration still on the channels and orders he hears.

�This is just the opening,� Sam says softly, his eyes hard. Of us all, he�s got the most experience, the most time seeing the battles up close and personal with his drones. Mikito and I might have been on the front-lines, but he sees it all from above. �They�ll need us when it gets hot. When the Galactics are stuck in. We�re the cavalry.�

Hate it or not, Sam�s right. The vast majority of the army has yet to arrive. No, better for us to wait. Miller has the same clues, the same vision. And when it�s time, he�ll call on us.

�Redeemer. Updating map.� Alvarez�s voice breaks my focus. �Portals at the green. Team leaders, your maps are updating too.�

Affirmatives are voiced all around while I conjure, going by the numbers. I punch out the first Portal as instructed, ten feet above the air so that it can form. No forming Portals inside people or objects. Sort of like appearing in other matter when you shift from one quantum state to another. It hurts. A lot. And sometimes ends in violent explosions. And when I say sometimes, I mean more likely than most. There�s an entire Galactic channel dedicated to those who don�t take that warning seriously.

I watch the first team rush through the Portal, tossing explosives and potions in before them to clear the way. Seconds later, they�re piling through, Skills and spells activating in a flurry as they land on top of the group that has breached our lines, filling the gap and giving the reinforcements time to arrive. No time to watch them though. The Portal slams shut and I focus to open the next.

Again and again, Portals open, depositing teams on the frontlines. Hitting crucial areas to give us an edge. Once a short distance away from the front to reinforce a weakening area. Another time right on top of a group of healers who�ve been doing a stellar job. Lana and company drop among a team of spellcasters, Mikito and Ingrid tearing into the group while the puppies and Roland corral them and keep back the reinforcements. Sam rolls in right behind in his armored drone, ready to reinforce, his beam cannon firing. Carlos rides behind it, his potion /grenade launcher in hand.

Within minutes, I�m nearly out of Mana and forced to rely on a Greater Mana Potion. Blessings and buffs reinforce my regeneration, but it�s not enough, not nearly enough. Alvarez watches me, lips pursed as he waits for me to drop the last couple of teams. I pull a little from the Mana Bracer, but the need isn�t crucial yet, so I only take a little. In the meantime, all we can do is watch the screens.

Our reinforcements make a difference, smashing the groups they�ve targeted and shifting the tide of battle. Lana and company jump on the puppies, riding them through the fray to return to the line, shields flaring as they try and fail to allay the damage. Meanwhile, the Hakarta jump team dealing with the healers have triggered sonic pulsers, stunning those around them as they leapfrog back. Their greater mass lets them pick up and throw their opponents aside when blocked. I even see one particularly large Hakarta pick up a carapaced enemy and use the unlucky bastard as a shield.

�Whoa! And there he goes,� Ali exclaims, pointing.

I tilt my head and blink, seeing a twenty-foot-tall creature where W�mee used to be. Though his titular name makes sense now, the creature wielding a flexible, three-bladed whip-sword in one hand. Each strike reaches tens of meters backward, cutting into flesh and armor as though its soggy newspaper, leaving sprays of blood and mashed meat behind.

�What happened?� I growl.

�Mages have been keeping him penned in with multiple disruptive spells. He�s been doing some damage, but the line�s been falling back and reforming to keep him and his men boxed in. Looks like Pee-Pee decided he�d had enough,� Ali explains.

�And�?�

�Transformation Skill. Must be part of his Master Class Skill set. Those things have a limited duration though. If we can keep him penned, once it�s gone, he�ll be weakened,� Ali says.

�How long?� Alvarez asks urgently.

�No idea.� Ali shrugs. �Might be ten minutes, might be an hour. Depends on the Skill, the rarity, and of course, how many points he�s put in.�

Alvarez snorts and relays information. Obviously, I�m not the only one caught by surprise. I absently wonder if they�re about to purchase the information from the Shop. If they have the time. Turning my head, I search for and find Km, the rock-creature pushing back the defenders she faces. Luckily, prior experience shows. Instead of facing her directly, the teams have stacked as many shields as they can, along with drones, guardians, and long-range fighters, in front of the Oracle. Only a few elementally resistant fighters stand directly in her way, taking the pounding and being healed constantly by a brace of healers who themselves are supported by others. Behind Km, other Ez are flowing forth, their skin reflecting different types of rock�granite, brick, clay, and others I don�t understand. Luckily, they seem content to take their time and follow her. Still, the Ez�s advance, while slower, is across a much wider area than the Jarack�s.

�Ready,� I say, raising my finger.

A few moments later, the next Portal slams shut and we�re sitting in silence again. One more team, just another few minutes. But in a battle, a few minutes can be a lifetime and the team I dropped to slow down the Jarack is getting hammered. The tank, a lanky soldier who looks as if he could come apart in a single hit, keeps getting up no matter how many times he�s hit. His blood flies as the whip-like blades flick through the air, cutting into the tank and a few brave souls.

�This is bullshit, boy-o,� Ali says softly, pointing at the screens. �They�re getting their asses creamed. Which is weird to bring food into your posteriors��

�Never mind that,� I say as the Jarack grabs the lanky gentleman and sticks him in his mouth, worrying the shoulder with those powerful jaws. And still, the tank fights on, somehow still alive. Beside the struggling pair, the healer keeps casting spells, pouring in everything he has while the others attack and cut, trying to do their best to hurt the Jarack and failing, forced to dodge as the three blades swirl again. �Enough.�

�Redeemer?�

�I�m going in. You guys are going to have get there yourselves. I recommend running.� I stand, eyeing the distance.

Ali�s already flying forward as fast as he can, understanding what I intend to do. Hopscotching my way there is faster and cheaper for me. A thought and the Mana Battery floods my body, dumping hundreds of Mana points into me for the upcoming fight.

�Redeemer, you can�t do this. We need you�� Alvarez says.

�You need me out there,� I interrupt, waiting for Ali. �Your men can�t take him. I can. Throw the rest at the Oracle. I�ll slow him down at the least.�

�Your orders��

I don�t answer, instead activating Blink Step when Ali hits the maximum distance. I land and run, Sabre boosting my movement speed as I cover the distance to my target, intent on conserving as much as I can. Four hundred plus Mana right now. Barely enough to do anything.

�Redeemer! You are defying your orders��

The communicator cuts off with a thought and I Blink Step to get closer. I�m moving as fast as I can. No more worries, no more concerns and half-doubts if I�m doing this right. Just the run, the necessity of battle.

The soldier is tossed aside, his body halved but still alive. He�s screaming, struggling to crawl back to his body, when the Jarack crosses the distance to the healer and mage. Blood keeps blossoming from the wounds across W�mee�s body as bullets tear open wounds, beams burn flesh, and spells cut into him. But it�s all surface, nothing going deep. He�s torn into our defensive line, well behind where our teams have dug in. The remaining members of the shattered line fire against those who try to take advantage of the gap while W�mee keeps the reinforcements from arriving.

W�mee of the Three Sands, Heretic of the Dawn, Slayer of Grayak Scorpions and Master of the Yellow Pit (Level 18 Singer of the Thrice-Dipped Blades)

HP: 39403 /42800

MP: 283/1780

Conditions: Skin of Basalt, The Sands Blessing, The Desert�s Son (Transformation)

�W�mee!� I roar, punching the volume up on my speakers as I finally arrive.

The Jarack pauses, staring at me as I stride forward, slowing down now that I�ve gotten his attention.

�Redeemer!� he howls, ignoring the others as his eyes narrow on me. He runs forward, taking my challenge as he laughs in his cackling, insane way.

�I need information on that Sands Blessing.�

�On it, boy-o. I�m getting data now, I�ll get you my guesses when I can.�

Three blades against my one. I could conjure the other five, but I never keep them up for long, the cost on my Mana Regeneration too high. Better to use them and make them disappear, fight in bursts. I need to keep him busy, distracted. I start the dance with the sonic pulser and mini-missiles loaded with grey goo, all meant to slow down my opponent. The pulser makes W�mee growl, the missiles are cut out of the air long before they reach him, and the couple that do land are unable to do much to slow him down.

�All combatants in this area, back off. I don�t want to get shot,� I snarl over the comms as a couple of shots graze by me, one bouncing off Sabre�s shielding.

The shooting slows down, then he�s here, blades whistling. My first block is wrong, catching the attack too far from the tip and allowing the whip to wrap over my sword to hammer into the Shield. My shield drops by nearly a third from just that aborted attack. The last blade luckily lands on the ground, missing me and my Shield by inches.

I see his hand swing sideways and I throw myself into a jump, spinning away before I�m wrapped up by the blades or have my foot chopped off. Within seconds, the blades are spinning again, coming back toward me as I land and dash forward. A side of a building is torn apart, the blades ripping through unenhanced stone and steel with casual ease. Even as it does so, W�mee changes the angle of his cut, catching a sniper and killing him.

No time to think, I form blades from my Skill, spinning my arms and setting up their angles, my eyes tight with focus. A calm settles over me. A battle calm, where my mind runs clear and clean, while around it, the raging fires of my temper burn. Clarity, anger, and speed. I grin beneath my helmet, feeling alive as I dance on the edge of oblivion.

The Jarack�s blades clash with mine, slithering and twisting as he attempts to cut through my floating ones, his movements hampered by their arcs and their sudden appearance and disappearance. But I can�t get close to him either, those blades twisting and turning like a blender blade around his body.

�What is this�?� W�mee howls, flicking his hand.

Three blades ripple, dancing and lashing out like snakes even as fires form and are expelled by their tips. I�m long gone, stepping aside and discarding my summoned weapons. All the while, I�m firing the Inlin and my missiles every moment I can. No grenades though. Nothing that would hide me and take away his focus. That�s not my job, not right now.

The Sands Blessing

Effect: Passive Buff. Provides a 11(?) increase in regeneration and 43(?)% increase in resistances while in suitable, desert-like atmospheric conditions.

�I�m barely scratching him,� I snarl at Ali.

My biggest gun is gone, my Mana potions unable to be used further to give me a boost. A missed block, a blade sneaking between my wall of swords, and my shield drops by a quarter. I fire the Inlin, armor-piercing bullets digging divots into his flesh. Another cut and yank, my sword ripped from my hand. I let him have it, calling another as I duck forward.

�I�m working on it!� Ali says, his voice tinged with a touch of desperation.

�Redeemer, hold him for one more minute. Reinforcements incoming.�

A quick step, one that I didn�t anticipate, and W�mee kicks me, throwing me into a building and out. My shield flares, Sabre showing nearly eighty percent loss of shield integrity. I�m good and he�s obviously not used to the Honor Guard�s fighting methods, but I can�t stay on the defensive only. Even as he crashes through the building, playing ugly brown monster to the building�s structure, I�m desperately trying to figure out what to do.

�No can do,� I grunt, making a decision.

I run forward as he exits the crumbling building, the momentary rush through the structure forcing the Jarack to stop swinging his blades. Just long enough for me to get close as he starts up those metallic shredders.

He snarls, blocking my first swing. Then the second. And the third. I stick close to him, taking clawed attacks on the shield, on Sabre�s armor when it fails, as I refuse to let him gain distance. I twist and dodge, stabbing his arm and legs, my blades hovering around me as he keeps attempting to back away. I�m doing little to truly hurt him, but each blow, blocked or successful, leaves a tinge of blue ice.

Freezing Blade, each attack slowing down the asshole. But it�s not enough, not by far. Even after ten strikes, he�s only a third slower. With a snarl, he glows, heat radiating from his body. Thankfully, the ice along his wounds does not dissipate. Instead, the heat burns Sabre�s armor, making me squint and sweat as asphalt liquefies. But it doesn�t kill me, doesn�t slow me down. Resistances cut both ways, and like him, I can take it. Ali, in the corner of my eyes, shoots straight up as he attempts to avoid the Skill, his Spirit body crisping while less fortunate, less mobile souls burn.

Body of Sun

Effect: Channels the power of the desert sun through the caster�s body. Deals 200 base heat damage per second.

Duration: Channeled

Red lights scream as Sabre seizes up, joints and armor melting away. The Jarack bounces back and away, finally free of me, his blades flicking close to lick at the mess that is my PAV. I snarl, making the decision to store the mecha once again. The action, the sudden change, and a twist of my upper body saves my heart, leaving a light wound across the chest. The moment the mecha is gone, along with my helmet, the temperature soars and the accumulated sweat evaporates as my skin blisters. Even as I shield my eyes, his blades plunge into my body, tearing it apart and sending me sprawling.

Thankfully, the Skill cuts off, though the remaining heat is still high enough to cook my flesh as I peel myself off the ground. So few blue dots in my minimap. His Skill might be over, but I�m too far away from him now to attack. I can�t hold him, not much longer�

�You did well, Redeemer,� W�mee says, cackling. �But you are no match for me.�

�No�� I cough, my throat dry, my head pounding as I realize my Mana reserves are barely more than a hundred. �No, I�m not.�

W�mee�s hand drops, the weapon swinging down, three blades glowing red with fire coming to end me. I can�t beat him. I never could. But that was never the point. As the blades whistle through the air, I Blink Step, taken high above by Ali.

Spells and artillery, mortars and potions fall. The combined attacks of dozens of stragglers, of people called from battle all around, splash against his body. I spin, twisting to look down at the fast-approaching body, my sword held out before me.

This fight was never just mine. It couldn�t be. No matter how strong a single person can be, a hundred scratches are enough. He knows it. Should have known it. But in the heat of battle, fighting someone who refuses to back down, who refuses to fall, who uses skills and Spells he has never met before, W�mee forgets. Blade plunging through the creature�s shoulder, mass and momentum driving it through the monster and sending us to the ground, my shin and arm crack under the sudden pressure. The other conjured blades follow, plunging deep into the monster, one accidentally punching through me and pinning us together.

Pain, as we struggle. The sword pinning us together is dismissed before it tears me apart as the Jarack twists and attempts to scramble away. I hang onto my original blade, stubbornly clinging to it as the creature�s high health now works against it, the blade unable to rip free. I keep him pinned, focusing on keeping him still as the attacks fall. Pain. More pain as flesh tears, bones crack, and blood boils. And blessed relief, as healing spells reach me, a never-ending torture as my body seesaws between the two.

Pain, in my body, in my head as I drain my strength, my Mana, my stamina to the extreme. The attack cuts deep, focused within the creature and unable to escape. As it twists, the sword slips and turns, facing away and finally pulling free. No more time, so I take the risk and release one last Blade Strike, my Mana insufficient and so the Skill takes from my flesh, my body. An explosive blast from another spell tears through me, cutting through my weakened body and throwing me away, my arm severed.

Then the ground, gooey and melted and hot. I skid, body creating a wave of asphalt that sticks and hurts and burns. And then darkness.

Chapter 17

New arms are weird. Having them regrow my lost arm in the Shop was the most expedient way of getting myself fixed after I came to, but it doesn�t feel right. Standing to the side of the Shop interface, I roll my shoulders again while I wait for the arm to feel better. Says something about the things the System probably does to us that after a few hours, even a completely new arm is forgotten and accepted.

Fighting the rest of the battle, once I woke up, with one arm was a new and interesting experience. Thankfully, the main fight was over by that point, the Oracle forced to pull back after she was once again severely injured. This time around, she triggered a short-range teleportation, most likely bought from the Shop. It wasn�t long after that we learnt that she left the planet. I guess no matter the level of loyalty, watching two other Master Class individuals die was more than a sufficient deterrent.

Once their Master Class support was down, the Zarrie pulled back, intent on fighting again another time. That�s when the other portion of Miller�s plan kicked in, the resistance fighters, the members of the 1st Special Forces group, and the vanguard of the marines making their presence know. Pinned between the three forces that were quite happy to rain long-range destruction down on the Zarrie, things got pretty bloody, or so I was told. Rather than risk even more loss of life, Miller let the Zarrie forces call a ceasefire when they sent a banner of truce.

I later learn that the marines had an even nastier time in their own fights. With the lines drawn for so long, their initial push was through entrenched positions. If it wasn�t for the fact that the marines seemed to have geared their squads for hard and fast fights with specialized melee, ranged, and mage teams, they might not have managed to push through.

For all that we might have disagreements, Miller is a damn professional. It�s only after the fight, during the ceasefire, that I learn that the Zarrie had sent more than a few assassins after him and the command structure. Luckily, the one thing California isn�t lacking is actors. I�m still not sure I�d have made the call he did, but it certainly allowed him to run the battle without major interference.

One of the few silver linings is the sheer volume of titles being awarded. Ali had a good time telling me about them. Some of the more memorable ones include Mikito�s Blood Warden, a couple of Last Stands, a Lord of Guts and Glory, and amusingly, Murphy�s Law Incarnated.

Right now, Miller, Wier, and a bunch of other politicians and interest groups are busy talking it up. Since we�re just allies, they�ve declined our participation in these talks, leaving Sam to listen in. Lana�s presence was declined, a few groups citing her unfair use of Charisma to influence matters. Rather than kick up a fuss, we stayed out of it. Luckily, Major Ruka has arrived, happy to be paid to play Galactic consultant.

�Still don�t see why they wanted a Hakarta and not me,� Ali grumbles, staring in the direction where the meeting continues to be held.

�Probably because they could do without your sarcasm.� Grunting, I shake my head and stretch, feeling my muscles shift as I marvel at the lack of pain.

In the corner of my eyes, I once more stare at the slowly blinking icon before I decide to acknowledge it.

Congratulations! You�ve reached Level 50!

Attributes automatically assigned. 3 additional attributes available to be assigned.

You may now choose a Master Class.

Would you like to do so?

(Y/N)

Finally. I�m tempted to look at the list, but doing so will start a process I can�t halt. Frustratingly enough, I�m unlikely to have a chance to choose anything really special, anything that will give me an edge, like the Honor Guard Class. But as Ali pointed out, I�m already broken enough as it is.

�John?� Lana calls, reappearing behind me.

She smiles slightly when I turn to face her, somehow having managed to not only change into new clothing but clean up. The simple cream blouse and yoga pants do wonders to show off her voluptuous form, making me drink in the view. It�s only the second calling of my name�or maybe third�that I answer her.

�Sorry. What?�

�How�s the new arm?� Lana says, wrapping an arm around my waist and sneaking in a kiss before I can answer. There are still shadows under her eyes, a tightness in the hug that speaks of her holding back grief.

�Good. Feels a little strange still, but it�s fine.� I give her another squeeze.

Still, for how relaxed things are, something feels off. Frowning, I tilt my head from side to side, wondering what�s bugging me. Lana�s the one to voice the problem first.

�Where�re the pups and Roland?� Lana speaks softly, eyebrows drawing together. For a moment she focuses then steps away from me, a hand materializing her shotgun as she opens her mouth to say something.

�Well, I am glad to hear that you are better�� The woman who walks over is seven feet tall, purple hair slicked back in a pixie cut that shows off coral-like ears and slitted yellow eyes. Her nose is almost non-existent, just a pair of nostrils with the slightest almost beak-like overhang.

Ayuri d�Malla of the Dawn, Breaker of the Sixth Legion, Hero of the Sixth Kumma Wars, Mistress of Knives, Bloodflower, Slayer of Kumma, Goblins, Mizza� (Level 42 Erethran Champion)

HP: 9830/9830

MP: 4740/4740

Conditions: Buffs. LOT OF BUFFS.

�Ali�?� I note the sudden flash of information above her, the lack of full disclosure as Ali translates the information quickly.

Behind Ayuri comes a pair of just normal Erethran Honor Guards, though both are close to hitting the Level cap. A single male and female companion to Ayuri.

�Redeemer of the Dead. What an interesting title,� Ayuri says, tapping her lips.

�What did you do to my pets?� Lana growls, stopped from raising her shotgun by my hand on her arm.

We don�t stand a chance, not against Ayuri herself and definitely not with two of her friends. Better to play nice. Especially since they don�t seem to be directly aggressive. Yet.

�Oh, they�re fine. We had to put them in stasis as they refused to let us in,� Ayuri says with a smile to Lana, her eyes flicking to the woman before dismissing the redhead as a threat. �We�re not interested in your petty squabbles.�

�What are you interested in?� I ask, knowing the answer even as I do so. There�s only one reason for the Erethran to be here, considering we�re nearly at the opposite end of the System Galaxy. Even for a new Dungeon World, they aren�t going to send a Champion all the way out here. At least, not just for the Dungeon World.

�You, of course, Redeemer. Imagine our surprise when we began to receive updates about how a member of the Honor Guard was gaining titles on the new Dungeon World. Even more so when he kept gaining Levels at an astounding rate. And then of course, he became a settlement owner�� Ayuri shakes her head. �Well, it was such an interesting piece of news. Considering the few we authorized to visit were still on the first ships.�

�Well, about that�� I pause as Ayuri�s initially benign, if slightly intimidating, visage changes, going flat.

�No need to explain, Redeemer. We know what happened. What we�re interested in is what will happen,� Ayuri says, closing the distance between us so fast I don�t even see her move. Even Mikito with Haste isn�t that fast. Androgynous body inches from mine, she looms over me, those tiny pupils judging me. �Were you perhaps considering becoming a Champion? Or an Honor Guard General?�

�You can�t be a Champion, boy-o, but the General is available,� Ali sends to me urgently.

�I can�t be a Champion�� I start.

�Quiet, Spirit. Speak again and we will banish you,� Ayuri hisses to where Ali is, flicking a glance backward to one of the Honor Guards. That Guard fixes her gaze on the Spirit, whose mocha skin loses color. �And how are we to believe that, Redeemer? You have already stolen the honor of our Empire once.�

�I��

�Once a thief, always a thief, I say.� The voice that emanates from the last Honor Guard member is droll, bored as a Yukon summer day is long and deep.

�Enough,� I growl, my temper flaring after getting interrupted so damn often. Interrupted and subtly threatened. �Either let me answer in peace or fight me, because this lack of manners is getting damn tiring.�

�He barks.� The woman�Unilo�chuckles softly. �Perhaps I shall stop its whistling.�

�Whistling?� Lana mutters, uncertain.

�Do your dogs not whistle while they bark?� Unilo says, tilting her head.

�Uhhh, no,� Lana says firmly.

�Har. What weird creatures.�

Ignoring the pair, Ayuri stares at me till I break and speak. �What?�

�You have not answered my question. What Class do you intend to take now?�

�Well�� I say softly, playing for time as my mind spins. There�s something here, something nagging me about this entire encounter. �What does it matter to you?�

�About two moves,� Ayuri says with a smile.

�You�re threatening me.� I state that flatly, my hand to the side as I get ready to call my sword.

�Stating a fact. If you were to choose a Class that besmirches our honor, we would have to resolve the matter. Immediately.�

�I see.� I give in finally to the lead-in. �And what Class wouldn�t?�

�Why, none of them that you have now,� Ayuri states. When she gets no reaction from me, she turns toward the man. �Mayaya, you won the bet.�

�Yay,� Mayaya intones, still in that same bored tone. �I shall drink in pleasure.�

�So. Class?� I say again while Ali spins in a circle, obviously aching to speak but unable or unwilling to do so.

Lana looks perturbed, but I shake my head to her and she lets me lead this conversation. For now.

�You understand our position, of course. You cannot be a General. That would compromise too many things. And any Class below that is well, insulting,� Ayuri says, shaking her head. �So now we must kill you. Unless��

�Go on,� I growl softly, getting tired of her playing this game and letting my impatience run through my voice. Now that we�ve been talking for a bit, I can sense her damn glee underneath all the threats. She�s having fun, and it�s pissing me off. Dangerous as she might be, I�ve just been through an entire war. Having her continue to play is testing what little patience I have.

�Unless you choose to take up a Class Quest. One that is only open to certain members of the Erethran Empire.�

�I see. And the catch is�?� I say.

�It�s a good Class Quest. Very powerful. Very popular to try. But somewhat lethal.�

�Somewhat?�

�Always!� Ali shouts, shaking his head as he finally can�t hold it in anymore. �No one�s succeeded in the last two hundred years.�

�Two hundred twenty-three years. Galactic standard,� Unilo says flatly then waves her hand.

The next moment, Ali disappears with a scream as he�s banished. Lana and I stare at Unilo, who shrugs as if that display of power was a minor thing. Which, I guess, for her it is.

�I see.� I hold up my hands as if weighing the two options. �So. Death by your hands or an impossible quest.�

�Yes,� Ayuri says with a wide smile, baring too-sharp teeth.

�John�� Lana says softly, her eyes doing murder arithmetic as she judges the trio.

�It�s fine,� I say to Lana, holding a finger up to the three while turning to the redhead and giving her a quick kiss. �Looks like I�m going on trip.�

�You�re not leaving me.�

�Sorry, human, but this is a single-person Quest,� Ayuri says.

�I�m not happy about this,� Lana says, gripping my shirt tightly. Tears form at her eyes, her fists clenched white. �We can beat them.�

�No. No, we can�t,� I whisper, placing a hand over hers. I meet Lana�s violet eyes, which swim with unshed tears, my own vision growing slightly blurry. �And even if we could, we shouldn�t. I need to do this.�

�Why?� Lana says, her voice heartbroken.

�You know why.� As she shakes her head in denial, I continue. �I need more strength. More power. And all the other choices, they aren�t good enough. If it�s impossible, it�s definitely a powerful Class.�

�And you could die.�

�And that matters?� I shake my head, realizing those are the wrong words. �No. It matters. But I could die here too. I nearly did. This way, I have a chance. A chance�� I can�t say the rest. Can�t. Won�t. Not here, not with them beside me.

�I know,� Lana says, burying her face in my shirt as tears flow. �I can�t lose you. Not again.�

In her voice, I hear all the pain, all the losses she�s suffered. Her puppies, Richard, Anna. Friends who fell in Whitehorse and others on the way. It kills me to do this to her, but I have no choice.

�I�ll be back. I promise.�

She half laughs, half sobs at my answer. Before we can say anything else, Ayuri harrumphs. Bored by our goodbyes, the Champion grabs my shoulder, pulling me away from Lana and leaving the redhead clutching the shreds of my shirt.

�Mayaya!� Ayuri calls, hoisting me up in the air as Mayaya opens a Portal.

Lana steps forward and is blocked by a Soul Shield, one warped to block her movements. �John!�

With a single flick of her hand, Ayuri tosses me through the black oval of space. I spin around in the air, watching the intimidating blackness approach at speed, offering me no clue of what is to come.

�Glad you agreed. Don�t die. I bet on you this time!� Ayuri calls as I enter the Portal.

My atoms rip apart, the transition wreathing me in pain I�ve never experienced before. Even as I land, I hear the last words Ayuri says as the Portal shrinks.

�Right then. Take me to your leaders!�

And then the Portal snaps shut, stranding me in darkness. Alone.

###

The End of Book 5 of the System Apocalypse

John will be back in Book 6!

Author�s Note

Thank you for reading Book 5 and I hope you enjoyed it. This book included a lot more interactions with the US military and I have to thank all the beta readers who helped me correct issues. Any errors or issues with the way the military work / talk / interact is entirely my fault. For those who serve, I hope you enjoyed the book and I stayed true to them. I�ll admit, we are lacking a large amount of cursing ��.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. It helps sales and yes, that�s the reason I write!

In addition, please check out my other series, the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional LitRPG fantasy) and the Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy GameLit series_. Book one of each series follow:

A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BV7PY1G)

To support me directly, please go to my Patreon account:

- https://www.patreon.com/taowonghttps://www.patreon.com/taowong(https://www.patreon.com/taowong)

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About the Author

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Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s

Resolve

Greater

Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand

Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 3)

Blade Strike (Level 3)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 30 feet away.

Cost: 30 Stamina + 30 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 30 cubic feet. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self.

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

A Thousand Blades (Level 3)

Creates four duplicate copies of the user�s designated weapon. Duplicate copies deal base damage of copied items. May be combined with Mana Imbue and Shield Transference. Mana Cost: 3 Mana per second.

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%.

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1 - Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 25,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Army of One (Level 2)

Cost: 750 Mana

Sanctum (Level 2)

An Erethran Honor Guard�s ultimate trump card in safeguarding their target, Sanctum creates a flexible shield that blocks all incoming attacks, hostile teleportations and Skills. At this Level of Skill, the user must specify dimensions of the Sanctum upon use of the Skill. The Sanctum cannot be moved while the Skill is activated.

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

Shrunken Footprints (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Sabre

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (III)

Effect: Heals 35 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Dart (IV)

Effect: Creates four darts out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 15 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds.

Cost: 25 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity.

Greater Regeneration

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 5%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Fireball

Effect: Create an exploding sphere of fire. Deals 150 points of fire damage to those caught within. Sphere of fire expands to 3 meters radius (on average). Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 100 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing

Effect: Heals 75 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 50 Mana

Mana Drip

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 5%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Inferno Beam

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 150 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 125 Mana

Mud Walls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Sabre�s Load-Out

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)

Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)

Soft Points: 3 (3 Used)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception

Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)

Ammo Capacity: 45/45

Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent

Ares Type II Shield Generator

Base Shielding: 2,000 HP

Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked

Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)

Battery Capacity: 6/6

Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds

Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm

Monolam Temporal Cloak

Requirements: 1 Hardpoint, Tier IV Mana Engine

Duration: Varies depending on cloaking level

Type II Webbing Mini-Missile

Base Damage: N/A

Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.

Cost: 500 Credits

Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser

Base Damage: 25 per second

Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.

Joola Communication Booster (Tier II)

Military Grade Communication Booster able to deliver your message where and when it needs to be. Joola Tech is the only way to go when what you need to say needs to be heard!

Effect: Disregard all communication interference from shields, communication scramblers, Skills and Spells below Tier of communication booster. 50% chance of breaking through equivalent tier blockages (chance decreases dependent on proximity to emanating blockage)

Other Equipment

Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 18

Battery Capacity: 24/24

Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 57

Battery Capacity: 17/17

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 98

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 350/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

The Brumwell necklace of shadow intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions are more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.

World Unbound: An Apocalyptic LitRPG (System Apocalypse Book 6) Wong, Tao

World Unbound

An Apocalyptic LitRPG

Book 6 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

World Unbound

ISBN: 9781775380979

What Has Gone Before

When the System arrived on Earth, it brought monsters, aliens, and glowing blue boxes that altered the reality of humanity. Gifted with Classes that must be Leveled and Skills that provide reality-altering powers, humanity struggled to survive when modern electronics failed under the flood of Mana. In a year, over ninety percent of humanity had fallen, leaving the remnants to pick up their lives.

John Lee is one such survivor, starting from the depths of the Yukon and traveling south to aid humanity in its struggle to stay free of their Galactic overlords. As a settlement owner in British Columbia, he joined forces with the remnant military forces of the United States on the West Coast and proceeded to wage a war to free the Canadian prairies and the US West Coast. Together, they battled the Zarrie�a desert kingdom Galactic force�and freed Los Angeles while making alliances with a few Galactic companies.

On the day of their victory, John is visited by the Erethran Honor Guard and its champion. As punishment for taking their exclusive Class, John is cast into a Portal to face a unique and deadly Master Class Quest. Exiled, John must complete his Quest before returning, while Earth continues to evolve.

THE END

Author�s Note

About the Author

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Other Class Skills

Spells

Sabre�s Load-Out

Other Equipment

Chapter 1

A tear in space, black and empty, devoid of all light, snaps shut behind me as I exit the Portal. I stagger, my body shuddering as I deal with being transported hundreds of light years in a second. Nerves fire constantly, muscles clench, and my ears ring. Coughing to clear my lungs, I grimace and straighten, wobbling as my body readjusts to the lower gravity on Earth. A deep breath fills my lungs, and I marvel at how even a minor increase in the oxygen content can feel so good. But no matter how much I enjoy being home, years of violence on another world means that I�m still on alert.

�Ali?� I call to the olive-skinned, orange-jump-suited Spirit hovering beside me.

He bobs up and down, his body reforming as he joins me in the clearing in the middle of the forest we picked as our entry point. Once again, I cough as the earlier pain subsides. I twist my head around to take in my surroundings, double-checking for potential problems.

�Working on it, boy-o,� Ali growls, fingers darting from side to side as he plays with the screens and notifications only he can see.

While the Spirit is busy, I glance up to check out the minimap created by my own Skill Greater Detection. It isn�t as powerful as the information Ali can provide, but he�s busy patching himself back into Earth�s subversion of the System and dealing with the numerous notifications we�ve accumulated over the years. The world we spent the last four years on was in the Forbidden Zone�an area so Mana saturated that the System actually broke down.

Rather than bother the harried Spirit, I check for potential threats on the minimap. Already, the System has populated a series of dots on my minimap, mostly greyed out to indicate these monsters are no threat to me. No real surprise, but better to be careful.

While I wait and watch, I marvel at the differences I can feel, the changes compared to the world I was in. Lower�significantly lower�Mana density on Earth. Lower gravity, higher oxygen content, no trace poison in the air. But more than that, the gentle caress of the wind brings familiar smells, of new pine and clean water, the muskiness of an animal having passed through a few hours ago, and the creak of old wood. It�s familiar and comforting, and a tension I barely noticed slowly fades. I�m home.

�Ready!� the Spirit says without preamble.

Then the flood of notifications begins.

You have completed your Class Quest

Achieved Master Class: Paladin of the Erethran Empire

Delayed experience gain now distributing.

Experience decay alert! Some of the experience you have gathered has decayed.

Multiple Level up alert! Some of the experience you have gained has been penalized due to multiple Level ups.

Decayed and penalized experience has been banked. Future experience will accrue at a greater rate until bank depleted.

You have Leveled up to Erethran Paladin Level 14

Attributes automatically assigned. You have 98 free attributes to assign. You have 7 Class Skills to assign.

My body twitches, pain and ecstasy coursing through it as the sudden increase in attributes hits me like a steamboat going over the Niagara Falls. Normally, my attributes are so high that Level increases are minor changes, so little that I can�t even feel them. But I�m getting fourteen Levels at once�fourteen Master Class Levels. My body shudders as it�s hammered by the changes, my perceptions visibly expanding even. Muscles twist and twitch, tendons and fibers multiplying and hardening even as they grow more flexible. My nervous system gets ripped apart and put together again and again. It all happens within seconds, an eternity of pain before it�s over and I�m myself again.

Thank the gods increases in attributes are on a logarithmic method, one that takes into account a vast variety of areas outside of the simplistic terminology used. Strength, for example, not only alters my own physical strength, but also how I affect the world around me, the System allowing me to manipulate and even �weaken� the bonds between an object as I hit it. It�s why I can still be cut by a knife and yet can take a bullet to the chest without a problem. If this was a pure physical strength increase, I probably would have exploded from the Level ups themselves.

The moment I recover, more notifications appear before me.

Congratulations! You have gained a new title - Explorer

For traveling to, surviving, and returning from a forbidden planet, you have achieved the title Explorer. Your bravery and foolhardiness will henceforth be known all over the world.

Rewards: All mapping and sensory Skills have gained a 10% increase

Congratulations! You are the 18th member of the human race to leave the Solar System and return.

Rewards: +20,000 XP, +5 in Perception, +1 skill Level (Mapping), access to Fame and Reputation menu

Congratulations! You have gained a new title Slayer of (&%@@##** - error!)

For killing over (error! error! error!) (error! error! error!) you have gained a new title! All (error! error! error!) will fear you and your presence will subtly disturb them.

Rewards: (error! error! error!) (Please see Administrative functionary. Error has been logged and sent to support. Thank you for your patience!)

�Ali?� I say softly, then twist my head as I note the little orange-clad Spirit twitching, his body glowing with color.

My eyes narrow as he continues to glow, brighter and brighter till I can�t look at him directly. With a resounding pop, he reappears.

�Leveled up?�

�Just about,� Ali says, patting himself down. He�s no longer floating, instead standing on the ground. Which is good, because he�s now 5� 8�, portly, and still clad in an orange jumpsuit. �Har! Still smaller than I should be, but this is so much better.�

�You look a lot more solid now�� I say with a frown.

�Yup, I�m here. For real. Body and all,� Ali says with a smirk.

�Shit.� I frown. I�ve grown used to Ali being a scout.

As if he knows what I�m thinking, Ali rolls his eyes and shrinks again, all the way down to a foot, his entire body becoming slightly transparent again. �This what you want? A floating fairy?�

�Maybe not the fairy part. I take it you�ve got control?�

�Not much of Level up if I didn�t, would it?�

�Fine,� I say with a shrug.

Now that he�s made his point, Ali pops back to full size again. His hands twitch again almost immediately as he taps into the System, filling in details on my minimap and expanding its range without a word. While he�s doing his thing, I peruse my new Class for the first time.

Four years and change, and for the first time, I get the chance to actually see the details of the damn Class I�ve fought, bled, and nearly died for.

Class: Paladin of the Erethran Empire

Unlike champions or Generals, the Paladins of the Erethran Empire have a special social standing in the Empire. Like their namesake, Paladins are not part of the chain of command, answerable to no one but the Empress herself. And not even then at times. Their actions are dictated by their honor, their judgment guided only by their wisdom, and their only support their strong right arm.

+1 in Luck per Level. +4 in Strength, Agility, Perception, Intelligence, and Charisma per Level. +5 in Constitution per Level. +6 in Willpower per Level, +7 Free Attributes per Level.

Mental Resistance Increased to 95%. All other Resistances increased by 10% (stackable).

Damage received reduced by 10%

+1 Class Skill per every two Levels

I stare at the description and whispered conversations and the clash of steel come back to me. Memories of my tutor, my mentor, she who finally entrusted me with this Class, rush back, bringing the taste of blood and an ache in my bones. For a moment, I find myself quailing at the knowledge of what is to come before I straighten. What will be, will be. For now, what is, is.

The increased resistances are a given, the stat bonuses the same. I�m a little surprised by the damage reduction and briefly wonder at what point the damage is reduced�before or after all the other Spell and Skill reductions are used�then dismiss the thought. Not as if this is a game where I can sit and calculate damage taken before I go into a fight, knowing exactly how much healing I�ll need after each attack, what kind of armor or skills to use for each and every attack. This world, for all its game-like characteristics, is all too real.

For now, a slight thought is all it takes for the Class Skill page to pop up. I eye the Class Skills hungrily, even while knowing how foolish it is. These Skills are a sham, an uneven patchwork of powerful abilities created by the System to hide a deeper truth. My time away gave me a deeper glimpse, one that I�ve been struggling toward, but it�s only that, a glimpse. Even so, I can�t help but consider how much easier my life would have been with these Skills in the last few years.

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eye of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Eye of the Storm

Society�s Web

Judgment of All

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force

Domain

Shackles of Eternity

Like most Classes, the Paladin�s Skill tree is broken up into three different areas that reflect the Paladin�s areas of focus. Unlike the Advanced Skill tree, I�ve only got three tiers this time around. That�s a good thing actually. The lower number of tiers means that I have to diffuse my precious Class Skill points less to get to the more powerful Skills. It�s an advantage certain Classes have. Or, mostly an advantage. A few Classes out there, at the Basic level, have only two tiers, but they have mostly useless Skills. Those Classes are often considered �waste� Classes, though they can be powerful secondary Classes if combined properly.

I shake my head, pushing my wandering thoughts back to the matter at hand. The first column showcases personal combat Skills; the second, the Paladin�s effect on the greater battlefield as champions; and lastly, the third column exemplifies their role as judge, jury, and executioner. Within the tree itself are additional Skills, combined abilities that provide even greater strength.

For all that, I scan through each of them quickly, mentally planning out my options and what I will need before allocating a single point to each of the first unlocked tiers. The other tiers will have to wait till I unlock them when I reach their required Levels. Still, past experience has me saving my extra four Skill points. After all, now that I�m back where I can actually Level and get Quests, I�ll hit Level 20 soon and gain access to my second tier and their more powerful Skills. Until then, the basics will do. It�s not as if I�m not OP enough, as Jason might say.

Class Skill: Penetration (Level 1)

Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.

Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive spells by 50%. Increases damage done to shields by 100%.

Class Skill: Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

A Paladin�s very presence can quail weak-hearted enemies and bolster the confidence of allies, whether on the battlefield or in court. The Aura of Chivalry is a double-edged sword however, focusing attention on the Paladin�potentially to their detriment. Increases success rate of Perception checks against Paladin by 10% and reduces stealth and related skills by 10% while active. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 Permanently.

Effect: All enemies must make a Willpower check against intimidation against user�s Charisma. Failure to pass the check will cow enemies. All allies gain a 50% boost in morale for all Willpower checks and a 10% boost in confidence and probability of succeeding in relevant actions.

Note: Aura may be activated or left off at will.

Class Skill: Eyes of Insight (Level 1)

Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.

Effect: All Skills, Spells, and abilities of a lower grade that obfuscate, hinder, or deceive the Paladin are reduced in effectiveness. Level of reduction proportionate to degree of difference in grade and Skill Level.

Well, that was interesting. Master Skills are frightening, but of course, they have to be, considering how difficult it is to get them. It does help that I�ve got an extremely rare, almost unique Class, which results in better than normal Skills too.

Still, the Penetration Skill effectively doubles my combat ability. Doubling my attack against Shields is impressive�probably the most common method of defense these days�but reducing other, more passive defenses by fifty percent is even scarier. Certainly monsters that rely on their natural defenses will be in for a hell of a shock if I ever hit them.

With the slightest twitch of my mind, I call up my new Status Screen.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer

Health

3020

Stamina

3020

Mana

2340

Mana Regeneration

213 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

176

Agility

271

Constitution

302

Perception

119

Intelligence

234

Willpower

263

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Mud Walls

Perhaps one of the biggest changes that occurred within the Forbidden Zone was the vast increase in the effectiveness of my spells. With the incredible increase in my Mana regeneration rate due to the sheer volume of Mana available on that planet, I started using my spells significantly more. I even spent some time upgrading my most used spells, making them significantly more powerful. While I still know the older, less powerful versions of the spells, rather than clutter up my interface, I just had them relegated to another section. It�s not as if I�m ever going to cast Mana Dart again. Hell, I barely even use Mana Missile. In truth, I�m looking forward to speaking with Aiden about magic now that I�ve been forced to learn it the hard way.

As I stand there, contemplating my character sheet for the first time in four years, I�m grateful that I chose to be Ported into the middle of nowhere. With my own ability, I can get home easily enough now that I�m back on Earth, but I wouldn�t want to go over my new Skills while dealing with the fallout of being away for a few years. Not that I had any choice about leaving. And talking about choice�

�Took you long enough,� I drawl, tilting my head to stare at the trio of Honor Guards walking out of the underbrush. Or Honor Guards and champion to be exact.

The trio of Erethrans are each over seven feet tall, their hair colors ranging from simple purple to outlandish, vibrant yellow-red. Each of them have coral-like ears and slitted eyes whose giant yellow pupils seem particularly startling set against the almost non-existent nose with that hint of a beak-like overhang. They�re all clad in an armored pants-and-tunic ensemble, sporting the exclusive Erethran royal family�s colors�purple and silver.

�I believe that was my line,� the champion says with a half-smile.

I regard the champion for a moment, reading the status information Ali is able to pull up. Interesting. She�s gone up a few Levels since the last time I spoke with her. Impressive even, considering how hard it is to Level at the stage she�s in. At least, unless you�re a cheat character like me.

Ayuri d�Malla of the Dawn, Breaker of the Sixth Legion, Hero of the Sixth Kumma Wars, Mistress of Knives, Bloodflower, Slayer of Kumma, Goblins, Mizza� (Level 43 Erethran Champion)

HP: 9990/9990

MP: 4342/4780

Conditions: Buffs. LOT OF BUFFS.

�That sounds like a lie, considering you never expected me to survive,� I say with a smile. There�s no malice in my voice, not anymore. A quick scan of her friends shows that they�ve Leveled too. Impressive as well, obviously.

�No recriminations or anger over throwing you in?� Ayuri says, dark eyes regarding me as she weighs my reaction.

�I�ve had four years and a lot of monsters to work out my anger,� I say. �Not that you�re forgiven. But you�re not looking for that, are you?�

�No.�

�So. What now?� I�ve played this discussion through my mind so many times, workshopped the various ways this could go. But at the end of the day, it comes down to what the woman wants. The fact stands that it would have, should have, been easier to just kill me to remove the stain of my presence on their honor. That she didn�t means she has plans for me. Now, it�s time to find out what.

Or not.

�Now? Nothing. In time, I expect we�ll speak again,� Ayuri says.

My eyes narrow slightly as I consider the champion. There�s a lot I can say�a refusal to play her game, a question about her motives, or even a query about what has happened recently. In the end, I speak none of those words.

�Okay.� I nod, shifting away slightly.

I take my time, keeping an eye on the trio as I wait to see what they�ll do. Appearing here, in the middle of nowhere, was also a check to see if I had to deal with the Erethran Guard in a more violent and permanent way. Yet the trio looks utterly bored, happy to let me raise my hand and form a Portal.

Only when it�s fully opened and I�m at its threshold does Ayuri speak. �If you�re looking for your friends, you will not find them there.�

�What do you mean?� I say, my eyes narrowing. �Vancovuer�?�

�Still yours. As are all your other settlements. Can�t contact Kim from here, but there�s no change in your ownership.�

�Just that your friends are currently engaged in another location. Almost all of them actually,� Ayuri says.

�Where?�

�Well, why don�t we take you along? We�re supposed to make an appearance too,� Ayuri says with a smile.

I find myself annoyed by the casual way she�s speaking. Still, I give her a nod as I release my Portal. Within moments, another, much larger Portal appears, its dark inkiness showing nothing of what awaits me. As soon as it fully appears, the trio travels through it without hesitation, and I join them with only the barest of hesitations. This could be leading to who knows where. But if that�s the case, I might as well get it over and done with now. I tell myself to have patience, but I do take a moment to layer a Soul Shield on myself. Even if they�re deliberately provoking me and playing with me, all will be revealed.

And if not, I�ll show them what happens when you survive four years in a Forbidden Zone.

Chapter 2

Daylight disappears and twilight appears. My eyes adapt immediately, though I wish I still had my helmet. That was gone, what�fourteen months ago? Something like that. Made using Sabre quite difficult actually, since the helmet wasn�t part of the nanomachine calibration. In fact, I hadn�t even pulled my mecha out in months. The poor thing was so battered and smashed, I often just left it in storage.

As I�m thinking useless thoughts, I�m taking in my surroundings, scanning for trouble both via my Skill and my senses. Green grass has given way to sand, the flat terrain replaced by a dune. No more giant rainforest trees. Instead, a group of smaller, scurrying organic creatures appear before me, heaving and thrashing like living waves. It only takes a moment to register that there are three sides in the conflict before me: monsters, Galactics in all shapes and sizes, and humans. The scale of the battle is surprising�tens of thousands of figures fighting it out before me.

Bright beams of light, the roar of gunpowder and other chemical explosive ammunition, and the never-ending stink of clotted, iron-rich blood fill my senses. Winds, kicked up by continuous roar of explosives, swirl around me. Sand, salt, and particalized organics cloud the air even as screams and grunts of pain punctuate it all. They�re far enough away that it�d be impossible to see them normally, but my boosted Perception seems to make seeing through the smoke a snap. One part of me is taking in the war, categorizing fighters and sides, while another is snapping Skills and spells in place, boosting my body into its best combat-ready state.

�What is going on?� A few years ago, I might have rushed in, taking part in the battle without thought. A few years ago, I�d know who was right, who I had to protect. But now�

�Just a minor field battle,� Ayuri says. �Your friends are participating, with everyone contending for the Field Boss.�

�Field Boss?�

�Alpha monster who has become a locus for Mana flow. Rather than creating a dungeon, it powers up the monster, giving it significant boosts. Some of the oldest even respawn like monsters in a dungeon.�

I don�t need to ask who it is. The giant glowing pink arrow that follows the creature�s movement is more than sufficient. It�s a weird, ten-limbed scorpion-like monster with thin, grasping arms in the front and a second, humanoid body where its tail would be. Even without the arrow, years of battle have trained my eyes to see the telltale shifts, the flow of the battle, and spot the centers of activity, the linchpins. On the monster side, it�s the Field Boss who, even under the barrage of modern, futuristic, and magical artillery fire, is barely bothered by the damage. Its health bar shifts a miniscule amount.

On the human side, there are dozens of smaller centers of activity. A ten-gallon-Stetson-hatted man two-steps through monsters, pistols blazing. A pair of puppies and a tiger run amok through the Galactics, guided and occasionally helped by a redhead on a griffin. Between both groups of attackers, an armored individual in ghostly medieval Japanese armor holds both groups aside while wielding a polearm. A pair of Guardians back her up, one with a metallic silver fist and another with swirling, tiny shields that protect against attacks. In the back, a party of Mages alternately dispel and cast spells, protecting the humans and their allies. And I do say allies, because I�ve spotted two anomalies.

Holding up one corner of the human army facing the Galactics is a force of Hakarta. They�re easy to spot with their uniform armor and green facial tusks that stick out of their helmets. The Hakarta have a series of force shields locked in place at the front of the line, guarded by a group of plasma-spear-wielding Hakarta, while other members of their mercenary Corp lob grenades, spells, and other attacks over the defenses. Higher up on the sloped hill and behind the lines, snipers and other long-ranged fighters add to the carnage.

In another section of the human army�s line of combat, a group of blue-and-silver-armored individuals in eight-foot-tall mecha are facing off against the monsters. Each mecha wields the equivalent of a minigun, spraying enchanted bullets downrange at a ferocious rate that barely stems the monster army. Beside each mecha, other members of the troop lay down more careful fire or work to reload the mecha. Between the towering metal behemoths, smaller figures use magic and melee weapons to deal with the few monsters that trickle through the gaps.

�That�s the Erethran Army down there, isn�t it?� I say, gesturing to the group with the mecha. The green and yellow piping a dead giveaway too.

�Yes,� Ayuri answers.

I grimace, wondering what the story is, but discard that line of questioning. Another time. For now, I�ve got a good enough idea of the situation. I gauge distances, consider my Mana, then speak up.

�One last thing. I�m going to need to borrow another Portal��

The black hole opens in space high above the monster army, taking in a backwash of lightning as a spell is deflected upward. I ignore it as I jump through the Portal with a pair of channeled firestorms ready, appearing high above the group. I release the spells as I fall, the fire appearing so quickly, the monsters below have no time to brace. When fire erupts all around you, not much you can do but burn.

I drop through the flames, my Soul Shield burning up as the flames eat away at its integrity. With a crash, I�m on the ground then back on my feet, dashing forward even as experience notifications pile up in the corner of my eye. Feet kick off the ground as I rush the now-clear Field Boss. It roars, its skin mildly blackened from the firestorms. Its health bar has barely moved. Even as I move, previously launched spells and artillery fall, making my Soul Shield tremble.

Aqrabuamelu Alpha (Field Boss Level 129)

HP: 13380/15380

MP: 9804/10230

Conditions: Greater Regeneration (IV), Field Advantage

I hate these kinds of monsters. I really do. Smart enough that they could almost be considered sentient, but without the level of conscience or morality that would make them viable members of society. They wield magic and savageness with equal fervor, though their spells are closer to innate Skills. The Aqrab glares at me, fingers shifting as the humanoid part begins a spell. Instinct has me throwing myself to the side as a rainbow stream flashes past my body. Even as I roll to my feet, the front body sends another spell on its way from its thin, weird hand/tentacles.

Blink Step. I�m beside the front body the next second, my sword cutting into one thin limb. It catches, barely scratching it, but that�s okay�the following Skill-generated blades are on their way. Freezing Blade reacts as each blade contacts, layering a cold spell on the Boss and slowing it even as I�m moving. A twist of my body has me rolling across its broad back, one hand twisting and forming the spell Mud Wall that floods upward from the ground even as I throw a second cut at the tail-body.

The monster snarls, leaning backward to dodge the attack. While it does so, it struggles to free itself from the Mud Walls. With the boss trapped by the movement of my blades and the Mud Walls, I dismiss the sword in my hand and point both hands at the body, casting Inferno Strike. Beams of plasma fire erupt, tearing sizzling holes in the body as I walk along its torso. Before I can keep channeling and tear its body apart, its reinforcements arrive, forcing me to kill the spell prematurely.

A female lion-mutant, sleek and golden-furred, pounces at me, jaws distended and a green liquid dripping from its fangs. For a second, I see down its throat. Tattered flesh hangs from needle-fang teeth the size of daggers. Then my hand catches the monster by the underside of its neck and I slam the creature into the ground, the audible crunch of bones breaking echoing through the battlefield. A back kick takes care of another monster before I toss the lion into another group. Even if the damage done isn�t great, it�s a show of power that is hard to miss. Especiall with my Champion�s Aura turned on fully, attracting everyone�s attention.

Another lesson from the planet? Sometimes, it�s not the damage but controlling the battlefield that matters. In previous mass battles, I focused on killing as many as possible, as fast as possible. But now, now, I have another goal. With a stomp, I flip off the Field Boss as it lashes out with a series of guided bolts of pure Mana. Landing on the ground before it, I eat some of the attacks.

I grasp its front arm, gripping tight as a rising kick throws the body upward under the effect of my System-enhanced strength. Because the points don�t just mean a change in physical strength but also in how I can make such strength manifest in the real world. And I�ve had a lot of practice learning to use these points properly. The creature flies into the air, held down only by my arm. Then I dance, swinging the giant Field Boss bat as a weapon, even as my Soul Shield falls under repeated secondary attacks.

Blood flows, small cuts and damage accumulating as the Boss lashes out with spells, and artillery shots land around us. But the battering ram of the Field Boss clears a wide area around me, one that I keep widening as I dash through the crowd. Along the way, I use my floating swords to add to the carnage. I create disruption and confusion, breaking morale and formations while layering damage and obstacles.

The change is small at first, the morale factor of my sudden appearance boosting the human army�s fighting form. Then the distraction and damage to the Field Boss�s subordinates kicks in, removing orders and support actions that were meant to take place. Weaknesses in the monster�s line become breakouts as reinforcements do not arrive. And now, with the Field Boss unable to add additional orders, the monsters are split apart further. Mud Walls hamper movement; Polar Zones damage and slow down susceptible monsters as they rush around. Gaps appear and increase, and the experienced human army acts on it, targeting Elites and Alphas with a vengeance. It�s a waterfall effect.

But it doesn�t go all my way. After a minute, the Aqrab takes action, slicing off its own arm to free itself and using the force of my latest swing of its body to fly into the distance. It takes me a little bit to weave my way near it again, bashing apart monsters as I heal my body and close in on the Boss. Rather than repeat the attack, I switch to monster bowling, using the hardy Field Boss to shatter lines.

In the corner of my vision, Ali is dashing alongside me, his Spirit body fully materialized. He�s still clad in his orange jumpsuit, but magic dances from his hand. Through our connection, the Spirit has use of the full range of spells I have learned, along with a few innate spells and abilities. But here, he�s mostly focused on using Improved Mana Missiles, Enhanced Lightning Bolts, and the occasional Mud Wall while continually buffing me with healing spells. Together, we rampage through the monsters� back lines, causing death and mayhem as the Field Boss�s health shrinks ever so slowly.

�Boy-o, Mana�s at a quarter,� Ali quietly reminds me.

I snarl, snatching up a monster and tossing it aside before booting another away. Then I focus, drawing on the stored Mana in my Mana Bracer, draining it completely. Time to end this. A rhinoceros-like creature charges me, trampling over a smaller carapace-clad monster in front of it, and I grin.

�Just in time.�

My mind shifts, counting down the seconds even as I cut apart another creature. A second, two, then I jump upward, my feet lightly touching down on the charging monster�s singular horn. Another push with my feet and I�m in the air, boosted by the creature�s angry bellow and charge. I laugh, the thrill of fighting rushing through my body. Gods, I�d forgotten how fun it could be bullying lower Leveled monsters.

In the air, I spin and twist, locating the Field Boss, who has recovered from my latest bowling attempt and is scurrying away. Even as it does so, it�s manifesting another spell, hands waving in unison as a weird, rising chant fills the battlefield. Too bad Spells take a bit of time to manifest. The more powerful the spell, the longer it takes�dependent on skill and ability�which is why I tend toward simpler spells in combat. When I�m not using Skills. Because Skills just require a moment of concentration and willpower.

Around me, an even dozen identical copies of my sword appear. I raise my hand, the original sword in my hand shining with light as I gesture downward, the action copied by the dozen blades as beams of concentrated energy tear the air apart to impact the Field Boss. A few unlucky monsters get in the way of the strike and are torn apart like wet newspaper. Each enhanced blade of energy rips through the monster, their penetrating power doubled due to my new Master Skill. Long tears appear on the Aqrab�s body, thousands of points of damage appearing in a single strike.

Army of One. The damn Skill name says it all.

I land on the ground with a grin, striding forward as the Aqrab struggles to stand up, a pair of feet so badly damaged that one lies on the ground next to it. Blood dribbles out from its wounds, a sulphuric smell rising from its wounds even as its buffs attempt to heal the damage.

Thanks to my Aura and the sheer intimidation of having their leader nearly mashed flat, none of the monsters charge me as I finish the pitiful creature with one last stab of my blade. The moment the Field Boss dies, its body collapsing entirely into the ground, a ripple goes through the crowd of monsters. They break apart and flee, the bond keeping them here broken.

In their fear, the monsters still know better than to come near, circling round the corpse of the Field Boss and me. No surprise then that my friends arrive soon afterward. First to arrive of course is Lana, the redhead flying over the monsters on her griffin, the creature dropping to the ground to deposit its voluptuous rider with a blast of sand.

Without a word, the redhead throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I return the hug, holding her close while the rest of the group finds their way over. In a short while, the rest of my friends, my team, arrive. While the battle continues to rage around us, while the remainder of the monsters are mopped up, we hold our first meeting in four years.

I can�t help but grin as they cluster around, my eyes taking in the changes among them all. The new lines on their faces, the greater confidence in their stances, the much larger health and Mana bars. The big, wide, grinning faces. I take it all in, savoring the moment before I finally speak.

�What took you so long?�

Chapter 3

Cleaning up after the Field Boss dies takes only a short while. The Hakarta and Erethran army help clear the monster corpses, stacking up bodies for transportation and cleaning later. Interestingly enough, looting is conducted under a somewhat different scenario than normal, as everyone is in an army-based super-group, making looting simpler. Everything will be stored and divvied up later, rather than each individual having to find the corpses they killed.

The Galactics we were fighting ceased fighting us the moment the Field Boss fell, their interest extinguished like the creature�s life. It takes a little explaining, but it seems the entire battle was more of a ritualized competition than a desperate race for resources. With the Field Boss down, there�s little point in continuing the contest and the Galactics cease hostilities. They work alongside our people in picking up corpses of their fallen and looting bodies of those monsters they�ve killed. Still, I do note that we mostly allow the Erethrans to interact with them. No surprise there�the Galactics are probably more used to switching from a desperate battle to non-aggressive stances than we humans are.

Of course, except for when I quickly loot the Field Boss, as requested by Lana, I�m busy with other, more human things. I don�t even have time to do more than absently note that I�ve Leveled again.

�Yes, I�m alive.�

�No, no communication possible. There was only one, semi-functioning Shop.�

�Yes, I got my Master Class.�

�No. I can�t say where it was.�

�Yes, it was hard. I missed you guys too.�

�Yes. I did have to grandstand like that.�

�Yes, I did see your new Levels. Congratulations times ten. Or twenty.�

�No, I haven�t checked in on Vancouver yet.�

And on, and on. The shouted questions, the exclamations of surprise and joy, the hastily blurted answers and explanations take up the next hour before we finally make our way back to the temporary camp. That the camp is well-organized and made up of almost-permanent-looking structures, formed by Skill and Spell, is somehow less surprising than its sheer size.

Unsurprisingly perhaps, the conversations and questions continue to come as we adjourn to the mess hall and congregate around a pair of picnic tables, supping on an extensive buffet of food. Amelia and Mike join us, while others that I barely know, like the Calgarians and Seattle members, leave us alone after they welcome me back. Even then, I notice more than a few glances shot our way by the curious, but none intrude.

�Is it just me or is this really good?� I say, speaking around a mouthful of delicious barbecued monster. It�s a mix between the succulent fleshiness of beef and the intense gaminess of lamb, with a delectable series of spices that mixes heat and sourness.

�It�s very good,� Mikito answers me with a smile. The Samurai has advanced incredibly in four years, sitting at Level 41 in her Class. It�s a frightening increase and probably the largest jump I�ve seen among the group, even if she had the aid of others and full access to Quests and Shops in a Dungeon World.

I kind of feel cheated by the sheer amount of experience I lost, though I mentally comfort myself that it�s only temporary. I�ll �earn� it all back in time.

Of course, it probably helps that the tiny Japanese lady has been at the forefront of the majority of fighting in the last four years, shouldering the burden that had been mine. Her Title is a good indicator of exactly how important my old friend has become.

Title: Spear of Humanity

The owner of this title has gained significant fame and popularity amongst the remnant members of the human race for meritorious acts against monsters, member races of the Galactic Council, and other humans in defense of Earth.

Effects: title owner gains a 15% bonus in statistics when acting in defense of humans or when on Earth. +10% bonus in experience gain on Earth. Humans have a -10% debuff on attributes when attacking title owner.

I�ll admit, I�m really jealous about the title. It�s one of the most impressive titles, in terms of bonuses, I�ve ever seen, but the fact that it�s probably one of a kind and based off worldwide fame contributes a lot to it, from what I understand about the System. After all, the damn leech of a System tends to draw from the masses to benefit the individual. And itself, of course.

�We often bring a Chef or three with us on these campaigns,� Lana says, gesturing to where the cooking stations have been set up.

I find myself blinking, the contrast between our hurried and mostly combat Classer-based campaign four years ago and this more urbane affair giving me mental whiplash for a second.

As if she can read my mind, Lana continues. �As they�re part of the official Warparty and providing an actual service, they can leech off the experience gain to advance their Levels. And the use of the exotic meats also increases their non-combat skill Levels too.�

�It�s a pretty common tactic,� Ali adds from behind the five-plate-high stack of food he has spread before him. In his larger form, the Spirit seems to have decided to gorge himself, somehow managing to put away more than twice as much food as anyone else. Which is impressive when you realize we�re almost all combat Classers. �There�s a bunch of Artisans running around camp too, making themselves useful. They get experience, first pick of the scavenged loot and employment. Outside of a few groups�like the Erethrans�this is a very common setup for large scale campaigns. Cheaper too, since you can fire the idiots at any time.�

�Got it,� I say to Ali and look over at Lana. I wonder if it�s my increase in Charisma or Perception, or just the fact that I�m paying more attention, but I�ve noticed a few things since I�ve come back. The hug. The fact that she�s seated near me, but on the opposite side of the table. How she�s speaking less and avoiding looking me directly in the eyes. In my gut, I know the answer, even if I don�t want to acknowledge it yet. I push that thought aside for now. �So where�s the rest of the team?�

Silence descends over the table. Amelia and Mike, the ex-RCMP officers and now Guardians, fall silent, staring at Lana, who is forced to answer via peer pressure.

�Ingrid no longer works with us exclusively. She flits around, playing mercenary assassin. She calls these large-scale battles idiot lines. Carlos is back in Vancouver. He retired from the front lines a year ago, after Beijing, and now runs an alchemy corporation. He still comes out once in a while, but his wife�� Lana shoots a glance at Mikito, who acts as if she doesn�t notice. �Well. He�s busy. Sam� we lost him at Beijing to an assassination.�

I wince, looking down. Damn it. I liked the old man. After a moment, I meet Lana�s eyes, asking softly, �Who else?�

The list comes quickly. Some I haven�t seen since our journey to the States. Humans from Whitehorse and BC, names and faces that float upward from the depths of my memory with little effort. Many are a brief memory. Elder Badger from Carcross�dead in her sleep. Chetan, the Healer-mage from Seattle, torn apart by a Master Class fighter in Austin. Aron Hauser, the Yerrick, fallen while running a dungeon that had overrun its resources. More names, more faces. Fewer than I had feared, but still too many. Sometimes they speak of others that I don�t recall, individuals they�ve met and befriended and lost. But eventually, they run out of names.

Perhaps it�s the listing of the dead in its entirety. Perhaps it�s just the reminder of what happened and the losses faced. Or perhaps it�s just the realization that for all that has happened, all that we have faced together, our time together was, in the end, brief. Shorter than the time I was away. A lot has happened, a lot has been lost, and I�ve been nowhere to be found. I am a stranger to their lives.

A somber air takes over our table, one that is deepened as my friends take turns outlining what has happened in the last few years, filling me in.

Perhaps the least surprising aspect is that after my disappearance, the push to free human cities eventually slowed down. The first six months saw significant momentum in the United States, but they faced greater and greater resistance as time moved along. Many of the major powers that had been taking their time started acting, outright purchasing settlements from other Galactics�and a few humans�before directly transporting over masses of their people. And these weren�t Basic Classes that arrived but swarms of Advanced Classes and a few Masters.

To combat the ever-increasing speed of reinforcements from the Galactics, Miller and the team switched to an opportunistic approach in aiding settlements. Using smaller, specialized human teams, along with help from the Erethran Army and the Harkarta�s Sixty-Third Division, a series of focused campaigns were carried out on settlements that were ready to be freed. On top of that, of course, Miller�s combined army continued to push east.

Unfortunately, each battle wore down their army, losses continually mounting. Each new settlement taken needed guards, men to watch over them and build up the settlements. Reinforcements were sparse, coming from individuals who trickled in from other locations. The breaking point in the States was when we lost�and regained�Denver in a period of two weeks. Rather than push forward, Miller decided to call a stop to the expansion to train and reinforce newly retaken settlements. While guerilla warfare continued�and continues�the results have grown significantly less promising. In effect, we seem to be in a state of cold war with the remaining Galactics.

On a personal level, all my settlements continue to belong to me and thrive. In fact, due to skillful management under Lana, Kim, and Katherine, the west coast of Canada has become an important Leveling hub. With a trade and transportation agreement in place with Roxley and one of the few �safe� overland routes to Alberta and to the high-Level zones in the Yukon, we experienced a significant northern migration from the States. While Alberta and the prairie provinces have finally been�mostly�freed, the losses and delay in setting up Towns saw a slower growth factor.

Unfortunately, a two-part alliance among a pair of Galactic powerhouses has stopped us from taking over the majority population centers of Ontario, their ruthless tactics, including the massacre and relocation of the entire Montreal population, have forced us to put a pause on our expansion. A constant stream of refugees and freed Serfs escape to the west, with the prairie towns bearing the brunt of retaliatory attacks for continuing to accept our humans. In the meantime, the combat forces Lana has gathered train and Level in ritualized combat, like the most recent battle.

As for the States, fractured by politics, the United States is united no longer. Instead, the west coast, the south�including much of New Mexico and Texas�and the area around Washington DC have all formed into three separate blocs consisting of freed human cities and a few allied Galactic cities. They call themselves variations of the �legal� representation of the real government of course, with regular political negotiations occurring as they attempt to patch the country back together.

As for the rest, including the so-called flyover states, their settlements are owned and run by the Galactics, with a few scattered human warlords and monster-infested hellholes. The Truinnar make up the largest portion of the owners in North America and South America at the moment, which has placed our own settlement in an interesting political position with friends on both sides.

On a global scale, matters are somewhat less depressing. Perhaps due to their large populations, India, Brazil, Pakistan, Japan, Nigeria, Korea, and China all managed to keep control of the majority of their cities. Of course, many of the borders that we knew have been redrawn, with many of the larger countries fracturing into smaller governments. Local warlords rule their four-, five-, six-city empires with a diverse number of rules and regulations. Not surprisingly, negotiations continue as visionaries and despots attempt to stitch together larger countries.

While Europe was densely populated, it seemed to have been adversely affected by a significant Galactic presence. No one knows why, but it seems many larger Galactic corporations decided that western Europe was a wonderful location to first set up shop. Humans, in the grand scheme of things, became nothing more than pawns, forced to flee while the Galactics battled one another. The Movana in particular hold a significant portion of western Europe. Unlike our knockdown, drag-out wars though, the Galactics seem prone to smaller-scale, ritualized combat. Mike is happy to regale me with the story of how Eindhoven was won after a single battle between a pair of Master Class individuals, which left both parties battered but alive.

Ironically, the increased number of European refugees into northern Africa actually helped stabilize human settlements there, giving us a band of powerful helpers in that region. It�s where many of the members of the army around us come from actually. Outside of that, Africa is a hodgepodge of settlements and interest groups, with few �powerful� blocs in charge of more than a half-dozen cities. But Africa�s a big place, and empty as it might be at times, a few major governments have arisen. Frighteningly enough, Africa has some of the greatest concentrations of high Level combat classers in the world.

As for Australia� well, the less said about that pitiful continent, the better. It certainly lived up to its moniker of the most poisonous continent. The few humans who survive there are holding on by the skin of their teeth.

�So basically, humans being humans and no one joins together?� I say with a grimace. Unfortunately, while we might band together in the short term, in the long term, self-interest often wins out.

�Not completely. Some groups have started forming,� Lana says with a sigh. �With the Planetary Voting Platform happening every month, it�s forced a certain amount of macrolevel grouping. Quite a few of the interest groups are geography-based, but some are champion-based.�

�Champion?�

�People like our little Mikito,� Lana says, inclining her head as Mikito flushes slightly in embarrassment. �People who have become famous enough that they�re a significant political force by themselves.�

�I don�t do politics,� Mikito grumbles and points at Lana. �She�s considered a player too.�

�Only because of John�s�your�settlements,� Lana says firmly. �Which we�ll need to talk about.�

�We will,� I assure the redhead. There�s so much to catch up on. So much to understand. We haven�t even scratched other topics that puzzle me, like the presence of the Erethran Army.

But before we can dig deeper into the past, others break in. As much as they might be my friends, they�re also people of import and they have duties, important duties, that have been put aside for long enough. One by one, they�re dragged off to deal with problems that only they can solve. And eventually, I find myself alone but for Ali.

Again.

�Redeemer.� The low, gravelly voice with a British accent takes me out of the notifications Ali has been piling in front of me.

Left alone, I was taking the time to catch up on what has been happening, with Ali sorting and sending me relevant pieces of data. I might have received an overview from my friends, but four years leaves a lot to cover.

�Major Ruka.� I look up, grinning at the big, ugly, tusky Hakarta. Damn, I�d forgotten how ugly they are up close.

�Colonel now,� Labashi says with a touch of pride as he sits down next to me without asking.

�Ah. Congratulations. It�s your command here then?� I say, tilting my head toward where the Hakarta continue to clean up.

�Yes.�

�Nice.�

�I wanted to come by and congratulate you on your promotion and return. And thank you. The contract we established has been extremely lucrative,� Labashi says.

�M̀h's�i� I wave aside his thanks. �I understand you�ve been a lot of help. You and the Erethrans.�

One thing I like about Labashi is how smart he is. He picks up on the hint immediately. �Ms. Pearson and General Miller made arrangements after your disappearance. Earth is now an official training ground for the Erethran Army. Earth�your people�pays the long-range teleportation fees for the army. In turn, they provide support during such engagements.�

Huh. I consider how that works. I doubt the Erethrans are at the pure beck and call of our people�it makes no sense for them to make such a deal�but I don�t bother asking Labashi. It�s unlikely he knows, and if he does, it�s unlikely he�d tell me. After all, I have a much better and more reliable source of information for this, and his revelation of such knowledge could be considered rude. No one likes having their allies spy on them.

�And your contract�� I say, leading him on. I might as well figure out the details on those.

Labashi flashes me another grin and leans forward, and suddenly, I�m reminded of our first meeting so many years ago. But this time, we�re finally on an even playing field, our Levels nearly the same and both of us having something the other wants.

An hour and a half later, Lana finally finds us, our conversation mostly over. The new contract is ready for inspection and for details to be hammered out. This time around, I refused to let Labashi push me into signing it immediately, allowing people like Lana and Katherine to review our new agreement in more detail. Still, the outline should be fine�increased presence of the Hakarta in our cities, using them as additional security forces for minor concessions in terms of buildings, access to the dungeons�which we now have four of�and of course, Credits.

Overall, I feel quite smug. Until Lana comes over, a thunderous look on her face.

�John. We need to talk.�

We walk in tense silence, headed out of the campgrounds. Ali, smartly, disappeared the moment Lana showed up. Of course, he�s floating right beside me, lounging in the air at full size�which is a really disturbing sight, by the way�but Lana is unable to see him.

As we pass the first set of guards, I finally open my mouth. �Lana��

�Not yet,� Lana says curtly.

I follow, tight-lipped as we walk into the dark desert whose temperature is already dropping. From the shadows, I catch glimpses of the puppies and Roland as they spread out to deal with any potential threats. I look up but don�t spot the griffin, which reminds me that I know very little about those animals. The true ones and not the Mana-corrupted legends we have. After five minutes, I try again and am hushed.

Only when we are a couple of kilometers away from everyone does Lana stop. From her storage, she pulls and sets up a simple, metallic scepter. In the darkness, I can see the slight flush in her cheeks, the tension in her shoulders.

�Now we can speak,� Lana states. When I open my mouth to do so, I find a finger up in my face. �What the hell were you thinking you were doing?�

�Talking��

�Negotiating! With Labashi,� Lana snaps.

�You make it sound like he�s an enemy.�

�He�s a mercenary. A friendly one, but a merc,� Lana says fiercely. �And you had no right to negotiate with him. None!�

�Actually��

�Don�t give me that settlement owner garbage,� Lana snarls, waving her finger in my face. My eyes narrow, her words igniting the anger inside me as she plows on. �You�ve been gone for four years. Four! We�ve been taking care of all of it in your place. The negotiations. The politics. The endless meetings and assassination attempts. And you�ve never even once contacted me!�

I open my mouth to protest, to explain, to shout back. But at the end, there�s a slight hitch in her words, a hiccup. I stare, the anger doused as understanding sweeps through me. Then I step closer, ignoring her finger, and wrap my arms around the redhead, hugging her tightly. She struggles at first, but I�ve always been stronger than her. And eventually, she stops and just cries, her hands gripping me with nails digging into my back as she sobs.

�Damn you. Damn it��

Lana eventually regains control, pushing against me more insistently. I let her go and she steps back, staring at me for a long time.

I can�t help but smile slightly. �You�re not going to slap me, are you?�

�If it wouldn�t hurt my hand more than your face, I might,� Lana says grumpily. �Baka.�

I chuckle, glad to hear Mikito�s trademark insult for me. When Lana sighs again, shaking her head, and steps back and away from me, I realize it�s nearly time for the real talk.

�John�� Lana says hesitantly.

�I know. You�ve got someone else,� I say softly. I feel a flash of pain, a deep ache in my chest and stomach that I ruthlessly quash. Not right now. �Anyone I know?�

�No. We met in South America��

I shake my head. �If you don�t mind, I�d rather not know. Not right now.�

Lana looks hurt for a second then smooths out her face, nodding in confirmation. �About Labashi. You really shouldn�t have done that. He�s a friend, and the deal you made isn�t bad. But there�s more in play than you realize. There are factions who want, need, that space.�

I consider what she said and I sigh. She�s right. I tried to take some of that into account while negotiating, but what�s available to Ali is significantly less than what is probably held in Lana�s head.

�Sorry. I did leave the deal unsigned,� I say, gesturing slightly and sending over the details. �I�m sure we can adjust it, if necessary.�

�It will be,� Lana mutters, staring at the document for a second before she dismisses the notification. �It�s� later. I�ll deal with it later.�

�And about the settlements�� I consider what to say. Eventually, I go with the simplest. �Thank you.�

�You�re welcome.� Lana stares at me for a moment then steps forward to give me a hard hug, murmuring into my chest, �I�m glad you�re back.�

�So am I.�

After that, we end up speaking about other things, just catching up. Even if our lives revolve around the System and the changes that have happened, we�ve still got lives. Hopes and dreams. Or at least, Lana does�and it�s her who ends up speaking mostly, gossiping about familiar friends, about changes in the settlement and mutual acquaintances. I find out that Jason and Sarah now have a trio of kids, the ankle-biters incredibly cute. Based on the videos that I view, I swear, all three of the kids must have specced Charisma.

I learn a lot about the world I left behind and the changes that have happened, the growth of the settlements. And perhaps one other thing�the deep pride Lana holds over the settlements, their growth and improvement. Vancouver�s a Large Town now, well on its way to being a city.

Hours pass quickly, and I can almost forget the last few years and think we are back. But there�s a distance between us now, a change in our relationship that neither of us dares prod or push too far. When I consider it, it leaves a dull ache in my heart, but it�s dull. Perhaps because I always dreaded this, always feared something like this for when I returned. Or perhaps I�ve just pushed down the pain.

We talk, and eventually we part when we hit the second sentry group, the guards offering quick nods to us. Lana heads deeper into the compound while I stand at the edge, repressed thoughts and emotions churning.

Logically, I understand what happened�I was gone for years, with little guarantee that I�d be back, and we never had the relationship conversation even when we were together. We�d been working toward something more permanent, but we had both been hurt. And busy. So damn busy. Then I disappeared right after she lost Anna, leaving her to pick up the pieces of my settlements and an alliance that had relied on my Skill. Is it any surprise that she eventually found comfort somewhere else? If I hadn�t been stuck on a barren rock filled with murderous monsters and aliens, I might have succumbed too.

�John,� Mikito greets me as she walks up, the Japanese lady completing her perimeter walk. �You okay?�

�Perfectly fine,� I say, looking at her.

�Then stop standing at the perimeter without moving. You�re scaring the guards,� Mikito says.

I frown, wondering why, then realize I�ve been standing here for minutes. Huh. �I��

�Come on,� Mikito says, gesturing for me to start walking.

I frown but follow her, curious about where she�s taking me before realizing it�s probably just to have another chat. A part of me wants to decline, to back out. Heart-to-hearts are draining. But�

�On the platform.�

I blink, realizing we�re standing in the middle of a clearing dominated by a small glowing platform that looks like Star Trek�s teleportation array, bracketed by gleaming steel pillars. I frown, but Mikito�s already walking onto it and looking at me impatiently, so I join her.

�Where are we going?�

�To work.�

Lights flare, growing so bright I have to squint before the world lurches, sending my stomach and senses spinning. And then the world disappears.

Chapter 4

�This.� Stab. �Is.� Pivot. �Not.� Kick. �What.� Cast. �I.� Cut. �Was.� Lunge. �Expecting.�

I recover and look around at the dead bodies of the monsters we�ve been fighting littered all around us. I do a mental tally and relax slightly when the number of half-dismembered heads and corpses equal the number of attackers I counted. The minimap agrees, but my time in the other world has made me rely on it much less. Too many ways for it to be tricked or be wrong.

For a moment, I regard the monster remains. Truly weird, these Penangallan. They start the fights with their full bodies, but if they aren�t killed immediately, they detach halfway through the fight and float their now tougher and more impervious heads and innards to attack us. That they use a combination of magic and an acid spit attack makes them even more annoying. As it stands, the pitted and scarred concrete and marble hallway is evidence of how hard they fought.

With a growl, I shake my head and glance out the hotel hallway to stare at the abandoned remnants of the city of Davao in the Philippines. Luckily, the teleportation managed to get us close to the city center, allowing us to meet up with the rest of the team here, rather than fighting through the monster-infested city.

�Does he always complain like that?� Hugo Karlsson, the six-foot-eight-inches, blond-haired, blue-eyed ubermensch asks.

I glance at the Level 21 Winter Ranger and find him staring back at me challengingly. Once again, I break eye contact first rather than push things.

�Come now, Hugo, you are being unfair. Mr. Lee has helped us clear this dungeon much faster,� Jamal Naser, the Level 39 Desert Seer, says to defend me. The native berber from Morocco nods at me, the older man with the rectangular face and dusky skin standing up from the corpses he has finished looting to wipe his left hand clean. Thankfully, I�ve got Ali to do my looting for me.

�Faster. But not needed,� Cheng Shao says.

�True. But I didn�t ask to join you,� I say to Shao, wondering what I did to annoy the black-haired Metal Mage.

Unfortunately, from the moment Mikito portaled us to this city, we barely had time for more than a few words of greeting before we launched our attack. Even at a glance, I can tell why we�re here�this dungeon is about to overrun its boundaries. We�ve got a ton of monsters to kill, making the trip through the space-altering, gravity-defying hotel floors even more annoying than normal. That the monsters are all at least Level 80, with some elites hitting Level 100, doesn�t make our fight any easier. It says something about the team we�re working with that we�re still cutting through the dungeon like a five-year-old with cake.

Then again, Shao and Hugo are both Master Classes. I admit, it was a bit of a blow to my ego to realize I�m not that special. After all, when the System came, others managed to luck out with their Perks and skip a Class level like me. And really, it�s a good thing for humanity that there are others who can kick ass.

�We can understand that,� Jamal replies to me, since no one else does. �But you�ll also understand that being pulled away from our normal duties for an unscheduled delve can be frustrating. We all have responsibilities.�

�Photo ops,� Mikito says with a sniff. �Speeches.�

�Not all of us crave the front lines,� a wide-hipped, curly-haired, short black woman with a strong Southern accent replies. Jessica Knox, Level 37 Cat Burglar and our scout for this little delve. I have to admit, she�s a looker with curves that go on for days, dark skin, and dreads to keep her curls in place.

�Move please.� Rae, the last member of the team rolls up in his mecha as he speaks, smaller mechanical arms whirling and buzzing as the arms exit the enclosed cockroach-like vehicle-cum-armor. Within seconds, the body next to me is dismembered, the mechanical arms pulling out the important parts and storing them away.

Normally, I�d put the bodies into my Altered Storage space, but I�ve yet to visit a proper Shop to sell four years� worth of valuable corpses. Anyway, mecha man is getting all the expensive bits.

�Map update incoming,� the robotic voice says.

I grunt, getting the new notification from Rae. Just Rae. No last name, no indicator of sex. Other than the fact that he or she is a Level 42 Silver Cyborg, I�ve got nothing. And discreet inquiries to Mikito has yielded no further information. Rae doesn�t leave its robot�if it can. In fact, outside of such campaigns, Rae doesn�t interact with the rest of the champions. Still, their Skills and abilities are useful.

Using its skills, Rae attached a bug to Jessica for when she scouts. That bug then gives us a map of the areas the Burglar has explored, along with the monsters she�s seen. The level of detail in the updates is higher than anything I ever got from my drones�or Sam did from his�which is pretty impressive. It�s another reason why we�re kicking this dungeon�s ass. That Rae�s bugs can punch the basic updates to us through the dense Mana cloud inside the dungeon is even more impressive.

�All I�m saying is that we�re wasting good XP on this newcomer,� Hugo says.

I almost grind my teeth but push the anger aside. After all, Hugo was just a kid when all this started. And even if I don�t agree with the trend of seeing our new world as a game, he�s obviously made it work for him. And again, I remind myself, I�m an outsider here.

�This is a working introduction,� Mikito says simply, pointing with her naginata down the curved hallway. �So let�s work.�

�He doesn�t deserve to be here,� Shao says, her eyes glittering with contempt. �What has he done? I�ve never even heard of him.�

�Explorer. Monster Bane. Duelist. Master Class,� Rae�s metallic voice chirps from the trundling mecha. �Significant achievements.�

�And no fame,� Jessica says, shaking her head. �You know he won�t be accepted by the public.�

�Who cares about that?� Jamal says with a snort. �I�m happy to have another reliable body clearing these dungeons. Or on the front lines.�

�I do,� Jessica snaps. �I�ve got sponsorship deals to worry about here.�

�You know, no one�s asked if I want to be part of your little book club,� I say, frowning at the surge of dots coming.

I raise my hand, forming an Enhanced Lightning Strike then punch it out without a word of warning. The Lightning darts forward, formed through the connection and channel I�ve created. The bright streaks of light hurt our eyes in the enclosed space. The Penangallan that get caught scream, twitching in agony as the lightning cooks their innards. It doesn�t take long before the other members add their area effect spells and Skills, tearing up the next wave before it reaches us.

�We�re the champions,� Jamal says, as if that statement is sufficient.

I guess, for many, it would be. After all, not to mention the fame and Credits they earn, the experience gains from running higher Level dungeons on a consistent basis would be very attractive. In this new world, Levels are power, just like money used to be in our previous world. It doesn�t matter where you are, Levels talk.

As for Jamal�s presumptive statement, I stay silent. It�s not my job to correct his misconceptions and overblown ego. While they might see this as a protracted interview, a testing ground to see if I�m worthy to join them, I�m taking it as a nice way to let loose a little. Not all the way, since I�d like to keep a few cards hidden, but enough to work out some of the frustrations that have been boiling up inside me. Juvenile perhaps, but hitting things is therapeutic. Stuck as I was, I�ve learned to take my stress relief where I can, even if it�s in the middle of a battlefield.

My continued silence drives the group to turn to other topics. Discussions about Skills, spells, and equipment dominate at first, with tactics and weird monsters leading. I keep an ear out, especially since most of these creatures sit around my target range. It�s kind of nice to be around people who can relate. But eventually, the topic shifts as we ascend the hotel floors.

�Hey, Cheng, were you able to get those tickets for KMC?� Jessica asks pleadingly. �You promised!�

�It�s Shao. I�ve told you before,� Cheng Shao says. �And their manager has promised us VIP passes. But they might have to delay the concert.�

�Again?� Jessica says grumpily.

�Soo-yi hasn�t managed to Level yet. They�re planning to hit that new Level 70 dungeon north of Seoul first,� Shao explains as her hands move, enchanted knives darting through the air to intercept and stab the Penangallan that attempt to swarm her.

�Oh, come on, you�re going on about that band again?� Hugo groans.

�And why shouldn�t we? Their music is great!�

�It�s manufactured and sterile. It�s no wonder they can kill with their songs. I�d die if I had to listen to their music again,� Hugo says grumpily.

�Please, you�re still bitter we won that bet.�

�Bet?� I mutter to Mikito as I duck, grabbing twisted intestines and slamming the body into a nearby wall.

�They made us listen to the band�s greatest hits on a delve. On repeat. For eight hours,� Mikito says with a roll of her eyes.

�Oh.� I stare at the disgusting bunch of intestines that the System considers �loot� from the Penangallan before handing them to Mikito.

The samurai doesn�t even blink as she stores them away. It�s Credits. Even if my culinary preferences are broad, I�m not entirely sure I want to know the eventual use of those. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss when it comes to gastronomic delights.

�The band runs dungeons?� I say with a frown, considering what I�ve overheard.

�Yes. They�re an Advanced Class team, sixth highest ranked in Seoul�s Adventurer Team chart,� Jessica burbles happily. �Of course, not all the original members of KMC survived, but most did. And they all have the Class Siren.

�At first, they Leveled up from a variety of Basic musician and entertainer Classes, but their manager had them run a dangerous Advanced Class dungeon. The surviving members all got the Advanced Class Siren, and their �Song of Redemption� can boost stats up to ten percent for six hours. And it�s partially stackable!�

At first, I attempt to stop the gush of information, but when I realize that the talk is actually annoying Hugo�and somehow, not stopping Jessica from doing her job�I leave her to it. It�s a bit disturbing that she manages to project her voice from kilometers away to continue chattering while scouting, but Skills are weird.

Eventually, after numerous wrong turns, we make our way to the end of the dungeon. At one point, Mikito stops to deal with the fallout of stealing me away in the middle of the night, making muttered promises to return me over her communicator. But the violence is useful, giving me time to not only assess Earth�s best but also to vent. Not that every single one of the �champions� are here, but the majority of them are.

When we finally put down the dungeon boss�a fight that had little suspense and fewer surprises beyond the wide-scale Iron Whirlwind spell cast by Cheng Shao�the group quickly loots the various corpses before reaching the objective of the mission. Davao�s City Core also serves as the Dungeon Core.

�Whose turn is it?� Jamal asks, none of the group moving to touch the Core that glows quietly in the middle of the once-immaculate ballroom.

�Mine,� Jessica says before placing her hand on it.

We all get the notification, and for the next few minutes, things get busy as the monsters go into a frenzy, intent on driving Jessica away from the orb. Unfortunately for them, we�re fighting a defensive battle here, which makes things significantly simpler. The monsters, on the other hand, have multiple floors to ascend and a chokepoint to force their way through. It�s a slaughter.

The moment Jessica takes over the settlement and dungeon core, she banishes the dungeon settings, which leads to an exodus of Mana from our surroundings. That�ll cause its own set of problems in the city as the Mana searches for a way to purge itself. Eventually, a new dungeon will form. For now, Jessica purchases upgrades to the building we�re in, reinforcing the steel doors and adding a few automated sentinels on this level and the bottom one, making the entrance to the core more difficult.

�That�ll do for now,� Jessica says, eyeing the giant steel doors that now block off access to the City Core. �We�ll be teleporting guards in once I�ve reported back.�

At those words and the obvious dismissal, the team splits up. Shao and Hugo activate communicators, pinging their location to their people before they�re teleported away. Rae rolls out, headed for the roof. Ali sends me an image of the reinforced blimp-like flying vehicle that is slowly floating toward the hotel, ready for a pickup. Jamal, on the other hand, stays behind with Jessica in the City Core. That leaves Mikito and myself to walk down the stairs alone, in thoughtful silence for a time.

�So I�m guessing I failed?� I say, a sardonic grin twisting my lips.

�No. They�re just uncertain,� Mikito says. �Once your reputation rises��

�It�s fine. I wasn�t joking when I said I wasn�t interested.�

�What did you think?� Mikito asks, and there�s a plaintive tone in her voice that makes me pause.

I actually consider the question properly, reviewing in my mind what I saw. �They�re good. They all understand how to use control their Skills, Mana, and Stamina drain. I don�t even recall anyone using any potions. Well-coordinated. Could be better, but considering you guys probably don�t fight together all the time, more than adequate. No one�s left alone to run out of Mana or Stamina. This wasn�t the hardest test, but they passed it with flying colors anyway.�

�We�ve had a lot of practice.�

�Yes. But�� I consider how to put this. How to explain some of what I�ve learned, what I�ve had to expand on. �They�re too reliant on the surface. They use the basics of their attribute gains, their Skills, and don�t dig further.�

�What do you mean?� Mikito says with a frown.

�Our attribute increases aren�t linear. There�s some overlap between each individual, but the differences between races are significant. Well, part of that is because we�re not looking in the right places,� I say softly. �Strength is the simplest example. A ten-point increase in it doesn�t just increase your lifting power. It affects how that lifting power affects other System-registered entities. It lets you ignore a portion of their defense, of their health, if you know how to tap into it. It allows you to do this.� I push off with a toe, flinging myself into the air and against a nearby wall, then I push again with a finger when I hit it, flinging myself toward the ceiling. Each of those movements leave the floor and wall untouched, but when I reach the ceiling, I exert my Strength in a different way, shattering the ceiling tiles as I push myself toward the ground, only to land without disturbing the floor. �And this.�

Mikito�s eyes widen, staring at the four spots I�ve touched, even as the dust from my example falls around us. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction�except when it doesn�t. We�ve all kind of accepted that the System breaks �normal� laws, but what I�ve learned is that it doesn�t. It�s just that we aren�t seeing the other forces, aren�t understanding the whole picture.

�It�s just the start,� I say, tapping my head. �Willpower gifts us Mana Regeneration and ways of dealing with manipulation spells. But it can alter and shift how Skills like Auras and Charisma work. It can even make the information we feed the System more obscure. Willpower dictates your pain resistance and your recovery rates. It even, from what I can see, deals with things like PTSD if used correctly. Every attribute has a different application than we think, but we don�t use it.�

�Is this what you learned? When you were gone?� Mikito asks softly, staring at my solemn expression. I nod before she huffs, �Guess you weren�t on the beach.�

�No. And I�m not going to be lazing around here either. I�ve got a lot to catch up on and playing hero isn�t my goal. Certainly not for fame or Credits.�

�Isn�t it?� Mikito says, stepping forward and looking into my eyes. �Wasn�t that what we were doing? Before you left.�

�No. We were doing what was necessary.�

�Necessary for what?�

I come to a stop as I realize that Mikito never did ask. Not the entire time we worked together. She accepted my lead, following where I pointed. For a time, I stand there, blinking as the realization hits.

�John�?�

�Sorry.� I shake my head, dismissing the thought. �Necessary for us to survive. And for me to get the settlements so I could vote.�

�The Planetary election,� Mikito states.

�Yes,� I say, nodding firmly. �We need to get on the Galactic Council.�

Mikito purses her lips, tilting her head as she considers me. �That will help Earth?�

�Yes. We�d have more say, more options. We�d be able to put rules in place once we�re officially registered. We�d gain status.�

�The difference between a System-registered town and one not,� Mikito says, floating the sentence for me to confirm. When I do, she nods firmly. �What can I do?�

�I�m not sure. Not yet,� I say.

�Ask.�

I offer her a nod in confirmation.

�And when that�s done? What�s next?�

�Then I leave. The Council, the galaxy. There�s a lot more going on, out there, than the fight for a single planet. Our world, our losses, they�re a drop in an unimaginably large ocean,� I say.

Mikito purses her lips, staring at me as she considers what I�ve said. In the end, she gestures to the side. �Portal back, please.�

�Sure. I�m going straight to Vancouver though,� I say even as I open one back to the army camp.

Mikito pauses before she steps into the Portal, the black oval swallowing her without a ripple. I�m left in the red carpeted hallway, the damage to the ceiling slowly but visibly patching itself up, alone once again with the silence and my thoughts.

That last silent look� I draw a deep breath, wondering how much she guessed. Because there is another reason why I�we�need to get on the Galactic Council. I need to get out there, to see and learn more. There are answers to my questions in the wider world, answers that cannot be found on Earth. As I stand in silence in the dimly lit hall, a memory surfaces.

�These questions about the System, they�re dangerous,� Ka�lla d�Mak says. Butt-length yellow-green hair spills down his back as he walks ahead of me, heading deeper into the cave system we call home. �I was forced to live here because of them.�

�But the answers are out there.� I limp along, dragging the eight-ton, ninety-foot-long corpse.

�Some answers aren�t worth your life,� Ka�lla says.

�Some are.�

�Then be wary who you ask. And how you ask. For everyone under the System may be your enemy.�

�Yes.�

Memory. I push it aside, staring around me as the sense of paranoia and wariness I thought had disappeared comes back. That�s right. Earth isn�t mine anymore. Or me, its.

With a gesture, a Portal opens and I step forward. Time to get to work.

Chapter 5

�Mr. Lee. Welcome back.� Katherine greets me from behind my�her?�desk as I step through the Portal into my office. Or her office. If you leave a place for four years, do you lose it? Even if my ownership has been kept, it�s not as if Katherine and Lana haven�t been running my settlements for me.

Coming through the Portal, I had Ali slide in first to make sure I didn�t have to worry about anything. Thankfully, I didn�t. I�ll admit, I would have been annoyed if I wasn�t pre-approved to Portal into my own settlements. The last thing I want to do is have my atoms torn apart while Portaling home.

I offer a quick nod to my assistant as she stands and moves swiftly and calmly from around the desk. The older ex-secretary is dressed in a finely cut office suit, one in pale grey that suits her figure completely and sets off the light grey in her hair well. I absently note that she�s got a rather distinctive necklace, which I�m pretty sure is enchanted. A brief viewing of her via Mana Sense confirms that intuition, and furthermore that her earrings, belt, and a bracelet are all enchanted. An impressive amount of magical equipment for an Assistant. Then again, other than Lana, she was�is�the individual in charge of one of the largest settlement groups in North America. Or would you call it a country?

Katherine Ward (Level 18 Settlement Manager)

HP: 410/410

MP: 1023/1480

Conditions: Ablative Shield, Pre-cognitive sense, Settlement Link

Well, I guess she�s not really an Assistant anymore. Her rise in Level is a bit surprising, as is her new Class. But I guess being officially hired and running my settlements has done wonders for her experience gain.

�WELCOME BACK,� Kim, my settlement AI answers.

Almost immediately, I get a notification that my AI has upgraded since I left, going up a Tier and increasing its processing powers significantly. Since we left Kim linked up to the Vancouver settlement City Cores, I�m not surprised that the AI had been upgraded along with the city. Notifications pile up in the corner of my eyes, most of which I ignore for now.

�UPDATING NEURAL LINK WITH SETTLEMENT INFORMATION ALONG WITH NECESSARY SECURITY PROTOCOLS, PASSES, AND DATA. PLEASE WAIT.�

�Oy, bits for brains, you keeping our settlements running?� Ali says as he stands in the middle of the office, acting like a crazy person talking into empty space. Thank the gods I learned how to mentally chat with him a long time ago, or else I�d really look insane.

�WITHOUT ADDITIONAL ORDERS TO THE CONTRARY, I HAVE BEEN AIDING MS. PEARSON AND MS. WARD IN DEVELOPING THE SETTLEMENTS. AN UPDATED REPORT ON ALL CHANGES HAS BEEN UPLOADED,� Kim notifies us via blue notification tab that he / her / it speaks in. One day, I swear, I�ll land on a sex or designation for Kim. But I think it is probably out. It just feels so inhumane. Which, I�ll admit, is technically correct. �I HAVE ALSO TAKEN THE LIBERTY TO INFORM THE SECURITY FORCES OUTSIDE TO STAND DOWN.�

�Thank you, Katherine. Kim,� I say, ignoring the last line. Not as if they�d actually shoot me. Would they? Actually, maybe having random people who Portal into my office without a direct invitation get shot as a matter of course is good protocol. �I�ll review the data later. And I�m glad we won�t need to switch out the furniture here.�

�Just the furniture?� Kim asks and I grin wolfishly. I�m pretty sure I could contain the destruction if needed.

�Do you not consider our security forces sufficient?� Katherine asks.

�To deal with me? A pair of Level 17 Advanced Bodyguards?� I snort. �Even before I left, it wouldn�t be sufficient. Though they probably could buy you the time you�d need to activate that teleport beacon you�ve got stashed behind the desk.�

Katherine raises an eyebrow, the only indication of surprise she allows herself. I don�t elaborate on how the moment Ali swung in, he was already ripping information about the building from the City Core and sending me the relevant bits. Or how here, in the center of my own settlement, I basically have any information I want or need only a thought away. The degree of information I have access to is rather scary�and makes me realize how badly I underestimated how great an advantage Roxley had whenever I visited him. With the massive increases in Intelligence that I�ve gained, I can now do things like subconsciously download all those notifications Kim is pushing at me, something I could never do before my little trip.

�May I know what is the agenda for today?� Katherine asks, changing topics.

�You tell me. What were you going to be doing if I had not interrupted you?� I ask.

�I was about to spend the next hour reviewing and answering the correspondence left for me overnight. Next, I have a committee meeting with the integrated Vancouver council about the latest updates on our build cycle and zoning for additional industries and infrastructure. There has been a significant push to increase the available space for our marine salvage and hunting operations, with a request for a second butchering yard. Of course, there is concern that the additional refuse from the butchering yard and its ancillary industries will provoke additional marine threats.� Katherine stops as she must see my eyes glaze over.

From what I can tell, her day is basically a series of meetings. It�s just who she meets that changes�from the mayors of the other towns to Galactic Guilds, Corporations, or local ones, it seems like she�s basically spending the day either in meetings or reading paperwork.

�Right�� I shudder slightly, considering delving back into all this. And then, I consider that I actually haven�t been needed for the last four years and decide there isn�t a point. �Here�s what we�re going to do. You�re going to continue doing these meetings. I�m going to throw up a notification video and watch and listen in while I catch up on, well, everything. Fair enough?�

Katherine nods, accepting my words without complaint. At least for the moment. I�m glad because after my talking to by Lana, I figure it�s better for me to get caught up before I mire myself in the running of my settlements. The fact that the settlements, together, really make up a country, even if we don�t designate it that way, is just another reason to stay out of it.

�Ali, got a few jobs for you.� I send the thought to my Spirit as I take a seat behind the desk.

The Spirit startles slightly, guiltily putting back the pear he picked up from Katherine�s desk, a neat bite marring its surface. Katherine perches on a chair opposite me, her eyes glazing over slightly as she returns to reading her notifications on screens only she can see.

�Shoot, boy-o.�

�You�ll like the first one. We need to dump my inventory and the corpses in my Altered Space. Think you can handle that?�

�Easy. I�ll make sure to not fleece them too hard,� Ali sends back, a slight smirk in his voice.

Good. That deals with clearing out my storage and getting some actual Credits, and this way, his new physical body can be put to good use. The corpses of the Level 120+ monsters that I kept in my Altered Space can easily increase the Levels of any Butcher, Skinner, or other Artisan who works on them, so it�s best to get those out ASAP. And making some Credits and Leveling my people was the whole point of dragging them all the way back.

With that taken care of, I focus on the next steps. Getting to know my own settlements.

Summarized Settlement Status

Current Population: 498,308

Total Number of Settlements: 13

Combined Settlement Treasury: 4,314.87 Million Credits (+12M per day)

Combined Settlement Mana: 333,412 Mana Points (+981 Mana per day)

Taxes: 10% Sales Tax on Shop

Facilities of Note: City Dungeons (3), Tier II Guilds (1), Tier III Guild Buildings (9), Military Complex (2), Mega Farms (3), Tier III Butchering Yards (4), Tier III Weapons Workshop (1) Teleportation Pads (Short Range * 11, Long Range * 2), Artisans University (1), Hyperlink (3�see map for link)

Enchantments of Note: Mana Collection Fields (3), Mana Shield Resistance Enhancement (6), Field of Clarity (1)

Defenses of Note: Settlement Shields (Tier II * 1, III * 8), Quantum Lock (Type 2 Static, Type 4 Dynamic�see map for coverage), Sentries (Tier II * 3, III * 4)

�Thirteen settlements, Kim?�

�IT WAS DETERMINED, TO BE MORE EFFICIENT, TO LINK CITY CORES FOR GREATER VANCOUVER, VICTORIA, KELOWNA, AND OTHER LARGER CITIES. THE TOTAL NUMBER REPRESENT THE NEW STRUCTURE,� Kim replies. �DO YOU REQUIRE A LIST OF SUCH SETTLEMENTS?�

�Map will do.�

�DONE.�

I stare at the map of the province with its glowing dots, my lips pursed. Vancouver is the largest dot of course. Victoria, Kamloops, and Kelowna rival each other in size, with smaller settlements like Prince George, Golden, and Fort Nelson surprisingly large now. It takes only a single query to explain why�high Level zones nearby have boosted the Adventuring population around these cities, pushing their growth. Of interest to me as well is the fact that the quantum lock doesn�t just include the cities but much of the land between the settlements on the mainland. Right now though, the lock doesn�t include Victoria, leaving the city covered by its own little bubble. I�m interested by the little lines that create a triangle of high-speed transportation signifying the development of the hyperloop. A part of me wonders how they�re keeping the monsters from wrecking it.

Oh. They aren�t. That�s why it�s not been pushed out farther. I sigh, shaking my head. A part of me wonders who ever considered putting a delicate piece of technology in the field where random monster spawns could wreck it. A part of me wants to curse the rather wasteful use of my Credits, but another part points out I wasn�t here. In the end, I settle for making a note to Kim that this is not to happen again. At least it�s not a complete waste�it seems the hyperloop churns out a nice and repeatable series of Quests for both combat Classers and Artisans.

For a time, I stare at the stored Credits and Mana and briefly daydream about the kind of things I could do with that amount of funds. The sheer volume and variety of Skills I could buy� then I shake my head and dismiss the thought. Thankfully, it isn�t possible to transfer settlement Credits into your own pocket�outside of some specific salary caps�or else the oldest kingdoms and corporations would be impossibly dominant. Not that they don�t already have a nasty advantage over the rest of us.

�How many days of Mana and Credits is that? If we don�t generate any additional,� I ask, curious to get an idea of how we�re doing.

�THE SETTLEMENT MANA BURN RATE IS NINETEEN DAYS. CREDITS ARE SIX.�

�That�s not good,� I mutter.

�What isn�t, Mr. Lee?� Katherine asks, looking at me.

�We don�t seem to have much in reserve,� I say, waving at the screen she can�t see and realizing that only after I do so.

�Are you looking at the financials?� When I nod, she continues. �It was a decision made by the council to emphasize growth over stability at this time, with the attendant risks.�

�Nineteen days though?� I can understand that reasoning, but why is the Mana reserve so much higher?

�Researching and applying appropriate settlement-wide enchantments have been slow. Our next scheduled update will see the addition of a Mage�s College to the Artisans University,� Katherine says.

I nod. A good decision overall. I fall silent, prodding the screen a little more and getting confirmation that the settlement notification is hiding anything below Tier III. It means that most generic upgraded buildings like residences, System-registered retail stores, or workshops are left out.

I dig into the settlement screen, pulling up specific information for each city as I try to get a better understanding of the state of affairs. Katherine leaves with a soft goodbye to head for her meeting down the hallway, a simple gesture getting me the in-house video feed. I lower the volume and split my attention as I continue reading.

Interestingly enough, unlike my previous decision, they�ve integrated the other cities around Vancouver into a single collective settlement. Burnaby, Surrey, and the like still have their own Cores, but they aren�t City Cores anymore, instead earmarked as Neighborhood Cores. One of the main advantages of this setup is that a Neighborhood Core can be taken over like any City Core, but it only removes access for the original owner. It does not confer upon the conqueror any of the abilities of the Core, which is basically in a �shutdown� mode until the main City Core is taken. Of course, there are negatives, including a loss of Advanced building spots. It�s not a complete loss since the System uses a calculation based off population, area, and number of Cores to ascertain the number of such spots, but it is a significant number.

It�s kind of weird in a way, if you think about it. Most �normal� Galactic cities grow from a single Core, their development dictated by the population and buildings that are constructed, with tiers locked behind Mana and Credit thresholds. For Earth though, we had a bunch of these City Cores designated, forcing us to eventually sell, destroy, or consolidate the Cores to make our settlements viable with our new populations. In some cases, rather than having settlements located in optimal positions�near higher Level zones for Adventuring or in a low Level zone for agriculture and farming�we�ve basically built our population centers around existing areas and done our best to work around the realities of a Dungeon World. It's why some of our smaller towns are growing so quickly, and why one of Katherine�s meetings is another discussion about tearing down a tiny settlement to get at its settlement key to create a more useful one.

Still, it is what it is, and for all that, we�re doing well. Continuing on with some of my initial objectives, many of the settlements specialize in production. Kamloops is fast becoming a major trading hub and Artisan center for weapons production, while Kelowna continues to churn out highly valuable, Galactically-desired agricultural products. It helps that the Artisan Guild based in the city has lent their expertise, increasing the variety of products they produce and making the city another jump-off point for Adventurers attempting the high-Level Rockies.

Vancouver acts as a hub for now, with our City Dungeon, training facilities, and port all important centers of interest. It is also the center of governance and where most of our hard-hitters live, the easy access to our long-range teleportation pads allowing us to react to monster hordes and regional Quests with ease. Victoria, on the other hand, is the redheaded stepchild of the settlements, its position on Vancouver Island making it mostly self-sufficient. In fact, I notice a report indicating we�re seeing a slow, but steady, decrease in the human population there. On the other hand, we�re also seeing a rather sharp increase in Galactic immigration, especially among nautical-favored monsters. Discussions on what to do about these changes have dominated a number of meetings, which is kind of amusing.

�Kim. What are Regional Quests?�

�ALSO KNOWN AS KINGDOM QUESTS, REGIONAL QUESTS MAY BE GENERATED BY EITHER THE PRESIDING GOVERNMENT OR BY THE SYSTEM. WOULD YOU LIKE A CURRENT EXAMPLE?�

�Hit me.�

�DEPLOYING SENTRY.�

�No, that�s not what I meant,� I say, my voice rising. Then a slight hiss and cackle make my eyes widen. �You gained a sense of humor.�

�IN A WAY. AS MS. PEARSON HAS NOTED.�

�Uh-huh. Quest.�

Western British Columbia Regional Quest: From Ashes

As a fast-growing population center, the WBC Region is on the brink of developing into a truly significant regional power. Help (or hinder) the local government with this quest.

Requirements: 2 Cities, 5 Large Towns, 8 Towns

Rewards: Will vary depending on aid (or hindrance) offered.

Accept Regional Quest to receive additional sub-quests.

Western British Columbia Regional Quest: Untamed Wilderness

No government can last while their population faces constant, encompassing fear for their existence. At the minimum, the general population should not fear being driven from their homes by uncontested monsters.

Requirements: 30 Days with 0 Beast Waves

Accept Regional Quest to receive additional sub-quests.

I admit, I�m tempted to add both to my Quest list. A few quick queries confirms a nagging fear though�the type of quests I would receive is dependent on my Reputation and Fame, and due to my long absence, I don�t have much of either. Even if no one else can see these attributes, the System is tracking it all.

Once I have a clearer idea of the status of my settlements, I make sure to check on how Katherine�s doing. Katherine�and Kim in silent support�is handling the meeting well. Better than I would anyway, so I ignore their meeting for the moment. Well, beyond making a note to visit the harbor at some point to see if I can murder a few nautical beasts. From a secure and stable piece of ground. Somewhere along the way, my higher Willpower significantly reduced my phobia for water without me realizing it, but I still won�t go swimming with a batch of whale-sized monsters if I have a choice.

I glance at the two notifications that sit quietly awaiting my inspection.

Dropped off the bodies. Expect to get remainder Credits in a few weeks.

+138,950 Credits

Visiting the Shop to sell System-registered loot. You should visit too�you need to update your Skills.

As I was finishing up on the last notification, a smaller notification flickered up, startling me slightly.

+1,238,194 Credits

My mind stutters to a stop when I see the numbers. This is more money than I�ve ever had. Sure, I knew we had filled out my not-inconsiderable inventory and Altered Space and the monsters we fought were particularly high Leveled, but this was somewhat ridiculous. I find myself staring at the information for a long time, daydreaming about what I could spend my sudden wealth on. More Skills. More Spells. Maybe a significant upgrade on my poor mecha. I go so far as to pull out a notification screen that shows some of what can be purchased via the Shop.

�A CHANGE OF WARDROBE WOULD BE APPROPRIATE.�

I look down, staring at the torn, patched, and re-patched armored jumpsuit I�m wearing and chuckle. Right. Perhaps a new wardrobe.

�Thanks,� I mutter to Kim then dismiss the windows. Shopping later. First, I have to look at the results of the past Planetary Election.

To get registered as a voting member of the Galactic Council, a planet has to be able to send a �member with significant authority� to it. This member is determined via voting on the Planetary Voting Platform at regular intervals. However, there are caveats. Firstly, the candidate has to gain over eighty percent of all registered votes. Furthermore, for the Planetary Vote to become active, the planet has to reach a few threshold numbers�a minimum of five percent of its planet�s surface area has to be under active management and surveillance, and a minimum population threshold has to be reached.

�Isn�t five percent a bit low?� I say out loud to Kim.

�THE AMOUNT OF SURFACE USE WAS REGISTERED AS A COMPROMISE TO DEAL WITH MORE VOLATILE PLANETARY CENTERS. IT SHOULD BE NOTED THAT THE MAJORITY OF REGISTERED SETTLEMENT VOTES FOR EARTH ARE ONLY ON ITS LANDMASSES. TOTAL LANDMASS ON EARTH CURRENTLY COMPRISES ONLY TWENTY-NINE PERCENT OF PLANETARY SURFACE.�

Right� huh. So that five percent is actually quite high, if you think of it that way. That�s nearly one sixth of all land on Earth, which includes areas like the Arctic and giant swaths of desert. Digging deeper, I realize that Earth only barely managed to achieve the second requirement recently�and that�s due to the liberal use of Forts to cover more ground. Without our use of Forts and the additional new settlements that various Galactic parties built in the more inhospitable regions, we�d not have reached that minimum number.

That areas like the Arctic and Antarctic have actually seen a minor boom in number of settlements, as Galactics who prefer such environments take advantage of the lack of competition from us natives, amuses me. I even make a note to visit one of them sometime, if I ever get a chance.

Problem is, even if we do qualify for a Galactic Seat, we don�t have enough votes for one specific person. I flick up a few different notification screens to get a better idea, parsing the publicly available information about who owns what, with Kim�s aid to understand the situation a little better. In the end, the answer is simple.

Humans are idiots.

When the first settlement survey was held just over six months after the end of the System integration period, humanity had just over sixty percent of the total number of potential votes. Of course, since Earth did not have the requisite land use percentage, the vote was put on hold for another six months. And six months after that again and again and again until three months ago. Regret rushes through me for a second as I realize that if I had been around, if I had taken over more cities, we might have had a chance before this.

Of course, the vote three months ago didn�t amount to anything. With a flick of my hands, I bring up the previous year�s results once again.

41.2% Human-Controlled Settlement Votes

8.8% Movana and associated allies

17.6% Truinnar and associated allies

3.8% Ares Corporation

21.64% Miscellaneous kingdoms and associations

6.96% Unclaimed Settlement Areas

At the last vote, no one received over twenty percent of the vote. The closest were the Truinnar, where Roxley received nearly twelve percent of the vote as the members of his race backed the dark elf. It was no surprise that most individuals consolidated their votes along species lines or just voted for themselves and called it a day because there was no chance this was ever going to pass. But not humanity. No, we split our votes. I spot the three top human candidates and dig into their details a bit further.

Bipasha Chowdury is a Weaver who seemed to generate most of her votes from the Indian sub-continent and, surprisingly enough, is a member of the champions. Interesting that she wasn�t at the last fight, but the group is more a loose coalition than a formal organization.

Rob Markey is an American, the ex US Secretary of Agriculture and now leader of the largest of the three American governments.

And lastly, there�s an African who has managed to garner nearly fifteen percent of all the votes, including the majority of the African ones, named Ikael Tafar. I�ll need to speak with and meet all of them at some point.

Outside of that, the political lines are easy enough to discern for the Galactics. The Movana have no desire for the Truinnar to gain another Galactic Seat. Their first option is to obstruct, the second to ally. The Truinnar, of course, believe that since Earth is technically within the scope of their territory, we�re �theirs.� Even if this is a Dungeon World, they aren�t exactly known for being a kind and sharing bunch and aren�t likely to agree to us having the Galactic Seat ourselves. Which makes working with them difficult at best. Luckily, I know their leading candidate. Obviously, since the Truinnar and the Movana don�t like each other, there�s no way to get both of them on board with the vote.

As for the Ares Corporation�

�ARES CORPORATION, THE SIXTH BIGGEST ARMS MANUFACTURER GALACTIC WIDE AND THE LARGEST IN THIS QUADRANT. THEY HAVE CLAIMED NUMEROUS SECONDARY SETTLEMENTS IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO LARGER, MORE ESTABLISHED LOCATIONS. ARES HAS UNDERTAKEN TO PROVIDE RESOURCES, SERVICES, AND TRANSPORTATION FOR THESE SETTLEMENTS, AS WELL AS ALLOCATING PRODUCTION FACILITIES.�

Secondary settlements, huh? I guess that makes sense. If you�re looking to have a place you can control, going smaller rather than larger makes sense. You�re less likely to have to fight for the settlement, and infrastructure build-up is significantly easier. In addition, if you�re an arms manufacturer, focusing on production in these settlements while staying close enough to transport the loot and butchered materials from the larger settlements would be a massive cost savings. After all, teleportation costs fluctuate based off distance. Of course, none of that actually helps with figuring out how to make them vote for us.

Dismissing that thought for now, I dig into the Miscellaneous section. After all, even if I somehow manage to get all the major players to agree to what I want, we�ll still need help. That, or take over more settlements.

Unfortunately, after an hour of fruitless research, I realize a simple truth. I don�t understand Galactic politics or factions well enough. Names and species, clans, corporations, and kingdoms, they�re just words. Even with Kim feeding me the Galactic equivalent of Wikipedia, there�s only so much that I can grasp in a short period of time. Not that it stops me from trying, but even my stubbornness has a limit. Once I acknowledge that fact, I consider my options. I need help. The question is where I�m getting it.

Firstly, there�s Lana and Miller, both of whom I guess have a better idea of this kind of politics. Or at least, Lana would theoretically since Miller�s likely running around killing things - or organizing people to kill things as the Army Commander for the States. Then again from the little I gathered from Lana during our conversation indicated that she has been focused on keeping the settlements together. While she probably has some knowledge, some probably isn�t enough. Katherine probably has the same issue as Lana, a too tight focus on our own settlements and a lack of greater understanding of the Galactic world. That removes all the humans who might be useful unless someone has taken up a new hobby since. Which, I�ll admit, isn�t entirely impossible.

Next up would be the Galactics. There�s obviously Labashi and Capstan. As a mercenary and adventurer respectively, both of them would likely have a rough idea about the Galactic political ecosystem. Unfortunately, from what I recall, Capstan actively attempts to stay below the radar. And Labashi probably would charge me for any information I could access. As for the third option, well� Never mind.

�What would it cost to upgrade you with a Galactic political subroutine and the knowledge?� I ask Kim as a thought crosses my mind.

��

�Kim?�

�ASSESSING.�

Interesting. Considering Kim�s an AI�one that literally runs much of the background processes and day-to-day of all my settlements�the pause seems to be somewhat long. There�s no logical reason for it to take the AI this long.

�A TIER III POLITICAL SUBROUTINE UPGRADE WOULD COST EIGHTY-SEVEN THOUSAND CREDITS. PLEASE NOTE THAT SUCH AN UPGRADE WOULD ONLY BE VIABLE TO BE RUN ON CURRENT SETTLEMENT RESOURCES. AN UPGRADE ON YOUR NEURAL LINK OF ONE HUNDRED NINETY-SEVEN THOUSAND CREDITS WOULD BE REQUIRED TO HOST MSYELF AND THE SUBROUTINE.

�ADDITIONALLY, ANOTHER FOUR HUNDRED FORTY THOUSAND CREDITS WOULD BE REQUIRED TO ACQUIRE THE NECESSARY INFORMATION LIBRARIES. A FURTHER RECOMMENDED FOURTEEN THOUSAND CREDITS PER THIRTY-FOUR POINT THREE DAYS SHOULD BE DEDICATED TO NEWS AND POLITICAL FEEDS TO ENSURE THE LIBRARY STAYS CURRENT.�

I wince, doing the math quickly. That�s a lot of money. Credits. I�ve got a ton right now, but it�s still more than I�d like to spend. As I hesitate, another notification flickers up on my screen.

�LORD GRAXAN ROXLEY HAS SENT A MESSAGE REQUESTING YOUR PRESENCE AT THE FIRST AVAILABLE OPPORTUNITY.�

Right. And that�s the other Galactic I was very carefully not thinking about. Unfortunately, outside of some of the acquaintances I had�including a rather loquacious Galactic down in the States�I can�t imagine anyone else who can provide a better overview of Galactic politics. But as always, Roxley comes with his own bag of problems.

�Ali.�

�Yeah, boy-o?�

�Ah. You�re back.� I grin, thankful that he�s done with the Shop. You never know how long the damn Spirit is going to take haggling. But come to think of it, with the time differential in the Shop, it�s not that surprising he�s back. �Do me a favor. Buy Kim the political upgrades and knowledge he needs. Once that�s done, I need both of you to get together and review the voting information. I want to know who�s working with who, who we can potentially turn, and who we can make a deal with. If you need to, get Lana involved.�

�What are you going to be doing?�

�Shopping. Then I�ve got a date with Roxley.�

�Ooooh�.�

�Not that kind,� I send the last thought back rather heatedly.

I just get a mental chuckle, which makes me grit my teeth. As I stand, getting ready to go to the Shop myself, I notice a rather heated discussion in the viewscreen focused on Katherine�s meeting. A quick thought has the volume increase.

�I understand. Ms. Weingard, but�� Katherine says placatingly, only to be cut off again.

�But nothing. It�s been five years now and our children are amok, acting like little barbarians. We�ve been promised a proper education system for our taxes and we�ve seen nothing!� Weingard snarls, slapping a wrinkled hand on the table.

I frown and double-check her Level, noting she�s only a Level 31 Baker. No real danger to Katherine. Well, physically at least. Unless she accepts a baked treat. Or goes into a gingerbread house.

�That is an exaggeration. The children are being taught in a secure environment using the System tools, many of which have been designed to encourage learning in both areas of individual strength and weaknesses of the child,� Katherine rebuts calmly.

�Blue screens and homework that no one but an AI sees. And the class sizes are outrageous. Fifty children per teacher. How are they expected to learn anything?� Weingard snaps. �When I was a teacher��

�We are struggling to find more teachers, it�s true. I�d be happy to include you in the roster if you wish,� Katherine slides in. I detect the slightest twitch of her lips when Weingard flinches. �But the teachers are only part of the teaching apparatus. The children are all coached directly by the AI teaching assistants during classroom time. When they are undertaking physical classes and activities, we have a significantly smaller ratio and expect to have one teacher to ten students by the end of this year.�

�Let�s talk about that. They�re being taught to kill,� Weingard snaps. �How can you condone that?�

�Self-defense is only one of the many physical activity classes. And only for the older children,� Katherine says frostily. �Physical education for younger children is focused on other, less directly dangerous activities such as sprints, gymnastics, and dodge ball.�

Weingard snarls, ready to rebut, when the older man beside her places a hand on her shoulder. She calms almost immediately.

The older Indian man speaks. �We understand that you are doing the best you can, but our organization is concerned at the nature of the schooling being provided.�

�Oh?� Katherine says.

�For example, there are content concerns. One of our members� sons came back from class, discussing and showing pictures of the various injuries that poisons may incur. It was very disturbing for the parent,� the gentleman says.

�That seems a particularly useful piece of knowledge in this world,� the portly auburn-haired man next to Katherine butts in. A quick query shows that Cory Gentile is the bureaucrat in charge of this entire program.

�At six? They should be studying their alphabet at that age!� Weingard snaps.

�The child in question was given access to this knowledge during his free play time for completing his language studies,� Cory says.

�Still, we have heard your concerns. We will undertake a review of the current open curriculum for younger children. Now, I�d like to speak about the early experiments with the apprenticeship program. It is, we believe, a significant success at providing skills to children, and early indications shows that graduates have a higher number and stronger Class variants after completing the program,� Katherine says, cutting in and getting the meeting back on track.

I lower the volume now that the likelihood of violence has dropped. Well, that was interesting. I vaguely knew that we�d set up a mass schooling system where we provided food and a secure environment, but I�d never dug into it while I was here, allowing others to run the situation. And it seems since then, it�s been expanded. Still, I�d have thought they�d have found more teachers by now.

The answer that Kim provides makes me chuckle wryly. We did find more help�but the vast majority of them have been dedicated to where our highest children population numbers are�those five years and younger. Between natural biological inclinations and the System�s ability to promote pregnancies, we�ve seen a giant population boom. Right now, the settlement is straining to keep these overpowered, System-assisted children in check. I tap my lips, considering what to do, when I get a slight beep of a new notification.

�LORD ROXLEY IS REQUESTING AN ETA.�

I grunt, glaring at the notification before dismissing it and my earlier thoughts. Right. I have a job to do and so do these people. As much as I�d love to get involved in sorting out an incipient problem, it�s neither my area of expertise nor where I can contribute the most. In the end, I�m a failed ex-computer programmer who�s very good at kicking ass in this new world. The big questions are best left to the professionals.

Chapter 6

For the first time in years, I find myself back in the Shop. For a moment, I get a sense of d�j� vu as I look around the bright yellow interior, the fox-like attendant coming up to me with a wide smile.

�Redeemer! It�s a pleasure to see you once again,� Foxy says. �I have a room prepared for you, if you�ll follow me.�

�Of course.� I let myself be guided without protest, curious to see what he�s got ready for me. A part of me is wary that he�s looking to exploit my newfound wealth, though another part notes that Foxy hasn�t tried to pull a fast one since the first time. Still� �I need a refill of my original loadout. But let�s upgrade it all.�

�Of course. I understand your Personal Assault Vehicle has suffered significant damage? Do you wish to repair or replace it?� Foxy says, hands clasped.

After hesitating, I say, �Neither for now.�

As much as I�d love to, Sabre�s usefulness in its current form has long since passed. I�d get more bang for my buck if I picked up a normal bike. Heck, I could probably borrow a vehicle from the Settlement�s fleet if necessary. While I might be able to have them upgrade and fix Sabre from the settlement funds, I�m actually not sure if that�s viable with the way the Credit rules are set up. And if it is, I have a sneaking suspicion Sabre would no longer be mine. No. I�m probably better visiting Kamloops and dropping it off with the Artisans there to see what they can do with the mangled remains of my PAV. Worse case, it�ll get them a few Levels and Skills while they work on it. Best case, I might actually get Sabre back better than ever.

�Ah, before I forget. This was left in our care on the off-chance you might visit us,� Fox says and flicks his hand. In it is a small, shiny bracelet.

I stare at it, confused for a moment before recollection hits me. �Talk about d�j� vu.�

I take the bracelet and slap it on my arm. A moment later, I get a notification that my Quantum State Manipulator has come online and is available for use. I chuckle, recalling how useful this little gadget was when I first started out. The ability to semi-shift to another dimension let me sneak, fight, and kill creatures well above my Level. These days though, nearly all the settlements have Quantum Locks of one form or another, making the gadget a lot less useful. Hell, I even met a few monsters in the Forbidden Zone that had the very same ability.

�Do you require anything further from me, Redeemer?� Foxy asks, and I nod.

�You have contacts with Enchanters and other Artisans able to layer spells, no?� I say, getting a nod back. I pull a dozen throwing knives from my storage.

Foxy inclines his head while miming taking the knives. At my nod, he picks up one and studies the small, dark red and black throwing knife I crudely shaped from a Level 140 monster�s tooth.

Toothy Throwing Knives

Handcrafted badly through the use of improper and inadequate crafting tools, these throwing knives come from the rare drop of a Level 140 Awakened Beast.

Base Damage: 180

�Amazing material. The craftsmanship is sub-standard but there is sufficient material to reshape it I believe. We can certainly reach out to our contacts,� Foxy stares at me for a moment. �For such material, I would be loath to have anyone but a Master craftsman undertake the enchantment. However��

�They�re expensive. How much?�

When Foxy offers the quote, I almost choke. It�d wipe out the majority of my recent windfall.

�And the enchantment�?�

�Many Master craftsman are� hmmm� artistes of the highest order. They will not guarantee the type of enchantment till they see the material and item they are to work on and inspiration has struck.� When my eyes narrow, he continues placatingly. �But many powerful, famed weapons have resulted from such expenditure. At the least, I am certain they will add a Return enchantment to these.�

I nod slowly, pondering my options. These weapons served me well in that other place and are my first�and only�attempt at creating my own tools. I always promised myself to upgrade them if I could, and here, I have a chance. I just have to get over the fact that I�ll be beggaring myself again. Well, relatively speaking�especially if you add in my other upcoming expenditures.

�Do it.� I sigh, handing over the other knives and pulling out a couple of larger, foot-length knives of the same material. �Now, I�m going to need some new clothing, better armor�perhaps something with a nanoweave and self-repairing function�and additional Skills and Spells. I�m thinking��

Foxy nods, dark eyes glinting with barely hidden avarice as I list the Skills and Spells I want. Foxy only interrupts me occasionally to make a suggestion when he considers my choice sub-optimal. A part of me wonders if I should have brought Ali for the haggling, but decide that I can let the Spirit loose later if it seems I�m getting too raw a deal.

An hour later, I�m alone in the private room, slowly coming down from the repeated mental and spiritual injections of information. It seems picking up Advanced Class Skills�the highest Level Skills I can get that aren�t part of my own Class Skill tree�is a bit more wearing than purchasing Basic Skills. If it weren�t for my frankly outrageous Willpower and Intelligence attributes, I�d probably have to take these integrations slower. Though that does raise the question of why I could integrate previous purchases of Advanced Skills from my Class so well. Perhaps it was due to the fact they were my own Class�did the System somehow imprint and prep the body for those Skills? More questions that I have no answers for. At least, not yet.

Dismissing the thought, I go through the slew of notifications that have been waiting for me since I started this process.

Analyze (Level 2)

Allows user to scan individuals, monsters, and System-registered objects to gather information registered with the System. Detail and level of accuracy of information is dependent on Level and any Skills or Spells in conflict with the ability. Reduces Mana regeneration by 10 permanently.

Truth be told, this Skill is unnecessary so long as Ali is around. But as experience has proven, my Spirit will not always be around�especially now that he can materialize and is liable to getting banished. As smart as he is, Ali�s not much a fighter and has a bad tendency to get distracted in the middle of particularly intense battles.

Harden (Level 2)

This Skill reinforces targeted defenses and actively weakens incoming attacks to reduce their penetrating power. A staple Skill of the Turtle Knights of Kiumma, the Harden Skill has frustrated opponents for millennia.

Effect: Reduces penetrative effects of attacks by 30% on targeted defense.

Cost: 3 Mana per second

Quantum Lock (Level 3)

A staple Skill of the M453-X Mecani-assistants, Quantum Lock blocks stealth attacks and decreases the tactical options of their enemies. While active, the Quantum Lock of the Mecani-assistants excites quantum strings in the affected area for all individuals and Skills.

Effect: All teleportation, portal, and dimensional Skills and Spells are disrupted while Quantum Lock is in effect. Forceable use of Skills and Spells while Skill is in effect will result in (Used Skill Mana Cost * 4) health in damage. Users may pay a variable amount of additional Mana when activating the Skill to decrease effect of Quantum Lock and decrease damage taken.

Requirements: 200 Willpower, 200 Intelligence

Area of Effect: 100 meter radius around user

Cost: 250 + 50 Mana per Minute

Elastic Skin (Level 3)

Elastic Skin is a permanent alteration, allowing the user to receive and absorb a small portion of damage. Damage taken reduced by 7% with 7% of damage absorbed converted to Mana. Mana Regeneration reduced by 15 permanently.

Elastic Skin is probably the most expensive of the Skills I purchased as it�s an exclusive Skill from another Class�the Burrowers. It�s also really expensive in terms of my Mana Regeneration, but the combination of damage reduction and Mana replacement is useful. Most other Skills I browsed were either pure direct damage reductions or had minor benefits in other areas. Like Stoneskin, which makes you slightly more impervious to fire and has a higher damage reduction against abrasive type effects. At 7% of 7%, the actual amount of damage absorbed and converted to Mana is, like, point five percent of the damage taken, which is rather pitiful. But it�s better than nothing.

Overall, the entire shopping spree�s focus on Skills was to shore up some of my major weaknesses and make me harder to kill. While I still feel I don�t do enough damage, I figure being harder to kill means that I have a longer period of time to really put on the hurt. It does mean that I�m losing eighty points of Mana Regeneration per minute from all these Skills, but since I haven�t spent my free attributes yet, that�s an easy fix. I split two-thirds of my ninety-eight free points between Intelligence and Wisdom, increasing both to new highs.

I also picked up a few spells, some of which I�d call utility spells�like Earth Shape, Mend, Speak to Chlorophyll, Oxygenate, and Chill�on the off-chance that I ever get abandoned in the middle of nowhere again. Others are variations of my existing spells, like Ice Blast�an almost word-for-word equivalent for Inferno Strike. While I�m not a huge fan of spells because of the length of time and focus they require for casting, my higher Intelligence and Willpower means that I can do both and fight with minimal issues. Still, I much prefer instant-cast Skills.

For all that, I did pick up a few interesting new spells, spells that I desperately wish I�d had before.

Create Water

Pulls water from the elemental plane of water. Water is pure and the highest form of water available. Conjures 1 liter of water. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 50 Mana

Scry

Allows caster to view a location up to 1.7 kilometers away. Range may be extended through use of additional Mana. Caster will be stationary during this period. It is recommended caster focuses on the scry unless caster has a high level of Intelligence and Perception so as to avoid accidents. Scry may be blocked by equivalent or higher tier spells and Skills. Individuals with high perception in region of Scry may be alerted that the Skill is in use. Cooldown: 1 hour.

Cost: 25 Mana per minute.

Scrying Ward

Blocks scrying spells and their equivalent within 5 meters of caster. Higher level spells may not be blocked, but caster may be alerted about scrying attempts. Cooldown: 10 minutes

Cost: 50 Mana per minute

Improved Invisibility

Hides target�s System information, aura, scent, and visual appearance. Effectiveness of spell is dependent upon Intelligence of caster and any Skills or Spells in conflict with the target.

Cost: 100 + 50 Mana per minute

Improved Mana Cage

While physically weaker than other elemental-based capture spells, Mana Cage has the advantage of being able to restrict all creatures, including semi-solid Spirits, conjured elementals, shadow beasts, and Skill users. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 200 Mana + 75 Mana per minute

Improved Flight

(Fly birdie, fly! - Ali) This spell allows the user to defy gravity, using controlled bursts of Mana to combat gravity and allow the user to fly in even the most challenging of situations. The improved version of this spell allows flight even in zero gravity situations and a higher level of maneuverability. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute

I also picked up two mobility spells, though I�m not sure if I�ll ever have use of them. While Haste as a spell is useful, it�s also costly in terms of Mana. And my own speed is significant already. Still, on the off-chance I fight another speedster, being able to keep up would be useful. And Improved Flight, well� it�s flight. While I�m not one of those people who dreamed about flying, there�s still some appeal there. At the very least, I can repeat what I did with the Field Boss without having someone Portal me in.

Overall, much of what I purchased patches holes in my defense and gives me a wider range of options�mostly when I�m not in combat. In combat, having a few extra spells that specifically suit the monsters I�m fighting is theoretically useful. Yet I know from experience that I�ll probably end up relying on a few tried-and-true Skills and spells. As a more famous Lee once said, don�t fear the man who has practiced a thousand kicks; fear the man who has practiced a single kick a thousand times.

My thoughts are broken by a knock on the door. At my invitation, Foxy walks in and lays out my more mundane purchases. I admit, I jump at the new clothing, almost chomping at the bit to get changed. I hadn�t realized how much I missed new, undamaged clothing till Kim mentioned it. Even if I had stored a bunch of extra stuff in my Altered Space just because I could, I�d long ago used up all my supplies on the damn planet I�d been exiled to.

Once all my purchases are laid out on the ever-expanding table, Foxy bows to me slightly, smiling. �Is there anything else?�

�No. I�ll probably return once I�m done here. Pleasure seeing you again,� I say.

Foxy returns my farewells. I watch the alien walk out, mentally chuckling at the thought that I�ve yet to get his name. Then again, he�s never offered it.

Clothing first. I take the simple expedience of sending my clothing into my inventory. A simple use of Cleanse gets me clean again, then I get dressed. The armored jumpsuit goes on first, a skintight covering that provides ballistic and energy protection without hindering my movement. This particular suit alters with a subtle thought, shifting its simple grey coloring to a more sleek black with silver highlights. I take a moment to pull up its stats.

Ares Platinum Class Tier II Armored Jumpsuit

Ares�s signature Platinum Class line of armored daily wear combines the company�s latest technological advancement in nanotech fiber design and the pinnacle work of an Advanced Craftsman�s Skill to provide unrivalled protection for the discerning Adventurer.

Effect: +218 Defense, +14% Resistance to Kinetic and Energy Attacks. +19% Resistance against Temperature changes. Self-Cleanse, Self-Mend, Autofit Enchantments also included.

Cost: 89,399 Credits

I�ll admit, I�m slightly amused that Ali translated the term to jumpsuit. But otherwise, it�s worth every Credit I paid. The additional defense and additional comfort is particularly important, though the increased resistances are a nice addition. Sadly, they don�t stack with my own innate resistances, so they�re less useful. Even then, I store the second jumpsuit in my inventory, just in case this one gets destroyed.

On top of the jumpsuit, I slide on the armored jacket that looks like a slightly less bulky version of a motorcycle jacket. While not as expensive, due to its bulk, it adds nearly as much defense. The nano-enhanced retractable helmet comes next, bringing a smile of relief. I�ve missed having easy access to the visual, auditory, and olfactory tech the helmet provides. I adjust my neural link immediately, connecting with the helmet and feeling the light click as data feeds into my mind directly. I reach deeper, touching my Tech Link Skill, and remove my connection to Sabre. The action feels like tearing off a foot-long scab in my mind. Another thought has the Tech Link attach itself to my helmet, making my connection even clearer.

Once that�s done, I dump the additional clothing, including some cheaper, less apocalypse ready formal clothing, into my inventory and go over the other purchases. A beam rifle and pistol start out the arsenal clustered before me. On top of that is more projectile weaponry, including a modified assault rifle with a grenade launcher attachment, the necessary ammunition in various color-coded magazines, and a smaller pistol of the same type. All of the above are higher-end, Gold Class Tier II weaponry of course, which makes them System-registered and somewhat more powerful than a mass-manufactured weapon of the same sort.

Once I�ve belted on the beam pistol and placed the remainder long-range weaponry away, I pick up the pair of high-end steel knives. I didn�t bother buying anything too expensive here, knowing I�ll get my enchanted weaponry back. That, and if I ever really need to cut anything, my soulbound sword is on hand. I don�t even have to ever worry about it breaking, which is all kinds of useful. The number of times it shattered on that planet� with a gesture, the sword appears in my hand, lightly resting in my palm as I analyze it again.

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Paladin)

Base Damage: 307

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

That�s a really nice bump up in base damage, probably from the fact that I increased my Class Level. Still Tier II though, which is annoying, but I guess that�s fair enough. I dismiss the sword and focus on the other tools I bought.

First up, the batches of grenades and mines. Most are cheap, though I�ve picked up a few higher-Tiered and crafted explosives. These are, for the most part, useful for adding confusion and uncertainty to battles but little else. I�m hesitant to invest too greatly in this area�as consumables, they�re expensive to purchase if used in large quantities. And the kinds of monsters I�m going to fight are unlikely to find most of these explosives that distracting. So while the pile is huge, relatively speaking, they�re cheap.

Once that�s done, it�s just the usual series of tools like tents, bedrolls, rope, lights, and potions. Lots and lots of Mana and Healing potions. Most of it gets stored in my Altered Space, a part of me wondering if I should increase its size again. But really, what are the chances I�ll be abandoned on a planet again?

�Yes?� Foxy says, walking in.

�Nothing�� I cough, moving my hand from the piece of wood I was knocking on.

�Of course.� Foxy�s eyes show the slightest twinkle of amusement.

I watch the door close before I open my Status Screen, curious to review my data one last time.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer

Health

3070

Stamina

3070

Mana

2710

Mana Regeneration

225 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

180

Agility

275

Constitution

307

Perception

127

Intelligence

275

Willpower

300

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Analyze*

Harden*

Quantum Lock*

Elastic Skin*

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Mud Walls

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Huge. I consider how to trim it down, what to adjust in terms of the points. I still have thirty-two free attributes, but right now, I�m not entirely sure where they�d go. Or what I need. I need more time in this Level, fighting against those who can challenge me, before I can tell.

With that thought, I select the exit option and feel the world fade away as I�m thrown back into �normal� reality.

�WELCOME BACK. ABOUT LORD ROXLEY�S REQUEST��

The notification from Kim is the first thing I notice when I port back from the Shop, making me snarl slightly. �Are you upgraded?�

�YES.�

�Then get to work with Ali. I�ll want a report when you�re done,� I say, then decide I�ve been avoiding answering the damn AI and Roxley long enough. �Tell him I�ll visit him soon.�

�SOON?�

�Soon. This evening,� I say.

�INFORMED.�

I growl, stomping away. I make it halfway out of the office before Lana catches me, a slight smile on her face.

�Problem?� Lana says.

�Nothing major.� I draw a deep breath. Fine. Maybe I�m a little annoyed at being pushed to talk to a man I haven�t seen in ages. And whose motives I�ve never really felt I understood.

�Good. Because I�ve got one for you,� Lana says and falls into step with me. I frown at the redhead, a sign that she seems to take as an indication that it�s time to continue. �Word has started to get out that you�re back.�

�Didn�t think I was trying to hide it.�

�No, but some issues we�ve managed to delay have bubbled up. Like your ownership of these settlements,� Lana says.

�Oh?� I tilt my head and stop us from walking further, leaving us hanging in the middle of the brownstone, glass-filled hallway. Thankfully, this floor is mostly empty. �Who and what do they want to change it to?�

Lana looks mildly uncomfortable before she answers my question. �Well, there are a few groups. Some lead by the older Vancouver council, and other established groups. We�ve mostly been having them argue about how to solve ownership to head them off, but with your return, they�re more focused on removing you from power.�

�And�?�

�And putting me in as an interim replacement.� When Lana notes I�m not even angry, she raises an eyebrow. �John?�

�It�s fine. Actually somewhat expected,� I say, smiling slightly. �I was surprised you left me in charge for so long and didn�t just remove me.�

�The fact that you were alive was a useful deterrent,� Lana says. �Your reputation, your Titles, made a lot of things easier. And so long as the Cores weren�t freed, we knew you were alive. I knew.�

I notice the slight hitch in her voice and swear internally. A part of me hates the fact that this happened, that what we started was abruptly shattered. Perhaps if we�d had more time� what is, is. Sometimes though, you can�t help but ask what if?

�So you, eh?� Do I trust Lana? If you�d asked me four years ago, I�d have undoubtedly said yes. Now� now I have to think about it. But the fact stands that I�ve left her in charge of the settlements, a job she�s done without complaint. Her personality, her knowledge, and frankly, the fact that she doesn�t mind working with people makes her a better choice than me. But� �Let me think about it.�

Truth is, I�m not sure why I�m holding on to the settlements now. It�s not as if she can�t hold them herself. She has a ton of powerful helpers, people she can rely on. Perhaps it�s the hoarder in me, the skinflint who would rather eat instant noodles than go out for dinner, but giving away something of mine is hard.

�Of course.� Lana places a hand on my arm, looking at me seriously. �I wasn�t asking for the settlements. I just wanted you to know.�

�I know.� I sigh. �It�s��

�You�re looking ahead to the vote. And what happens at the Galactic Council,� Lana says, drawing her own conclusions. In truth, I told her that years ago. Now, I�m not so sure. She bites her lower lip, hesitating until I raise an eyebrow. �Why do you do it?�

�Do what?�

�This. All this,� Lana says, gesturing all around. �You�re barely on Earth for ten minutes before you�re throwing yourself at a Field Boss and clearing a dungeon. Then the moment you�re done, you�re in here, working through the past four years of history, trying to work out how to wrangle a seat onto the Galactic Council. What drives you?�

�This�� I look away for a moment, taking in the passersby outside. Going in and out of the library-cum-center of governance for the city, moving to the other office buildings as they undertake their lives. It�s so busy, such a far cry from before. �There�s a concept in Taoism called wu wei. It translates�badly�as action-non-action. It�s about doing, without thinking, because it�s the right thing to do.�

�Like charging an army?� Lana says, and out of the corner of my eyes, I catch her lips quirking up slightly.

�If it�s the right thing to do at the time, yes,� I say, refusing to turn away from the window. I�m not sure how to explain it without sounding like a fool.

We have so little choice in our lives. We have no choice when we�re born. Where. To whom. We don't get to choose so many of the unexpected joys or tragedies that fall upon us, the pain inflicted or the love gifted. Fate�s will or Lady Luck�s kiss showers upon our heads with equal impartiality. That makes the choices we have, the few and the daily, all the more important. To stand or kneel, to fight or feel. To believe in something, no matter how foolish, how naive and mistaken.

�Doing this? It feels right,� I say. �It�s no worse a decision than any others. Or better. It�s just mine.�

Lana stares at me for a time, brows drawn downward as she studies my form. I turn toward her eventually.

The redhead shakes her head. �I don�t envy you that. What you�re doing, it�s not a fight I�d choose.�

I blink, surprised at the confession. �You never mentioned that before.�

�It wasn�t important back then. But, John, we�re not all willing to throw ourselves at dragons. Some of us, we�re content to take on the ogres. To give those who come after us the tools to fight the dragons.�

I chuckle at the metaphor that could only happen in this time. �Fair enough. Dragon killing isn�t all it�s cracked up to be anyway.�

�Dragon�� Lana�s eyes narrow, but I refuse to expound on it. In the end, she switches topics. �I�ve got to go. I have to catch up with Katherine. Kelowna�s asking about adding a third Guild building again. And Kamloops wants you to swing by their Armory. There�s a young lady who wants to see you�� Lana says teasingly.

I roll my eyes at her tone and her attempt to lighten the atmosphere. �I�ve got another meeting tonight. And there�s a city dungeon with my name on it.� I roll my shoulders and raise a hand, pulling on my Mana to form a Portal. �Got to test out some new Skills.�

�Have fun!� Lana calls as I step through that oval of darkness and I�m tossed into nothingness.

Chapter 7

Exiting the Portal steps away from the edge of the City Dungeon, I�m greeted by a new sight�a grey concrete wall. I frown, tilting my head as I note it�s right on the edge of where the dungeon starts.

�Kim, I�m looking at a giant wall here,� I mutter softly.

�IT WAS BUILT AFTER THE DEATHS OF A NUMBER OF UNDER-LEVELED TEENAGERS ENTERED WITHOUT PROPER PREPARATION.�

Right. I rub my chin, shrugging, and jump over the ten-foot wall to land inside the dungeon. Immediately, I get a notification. The first part of the notification is the same as before I left, though the Level of the dungeon has grown again. The addendum, on the other hand, is new.

You have entered the University of British Columbia City Dungeon

This dungeon is designated for Levels 10-80. Please check with the local Dungeon Keeper and their attendants for map of zone Levels and further information.

Addendum: All visitors should report to the Dungeon Keeper or an attendant. Failure to do so will result in censure, including loss of dungeon privileges and Credit fines�UBC DK

Oh right. I�d meant to appoint one of those before I left. Obviously Lana or Katherine actually got around to it in the interim. I frown, realizing that I have no clue how to get hold of this Dungeon Keeper or his assistants, nor do I see any obvious methods for me to contact them. Then I shrug and walk in. Whatever. Rules are for the peons.

Rather than waste my time dealing with low Level monsters, I switch on my Aura. While not as outright intimidating as others, it is more than sufficient to scare away low Level monsters that would have been wary of me anyway. It�s a bright search light, a forest fire that says danger to these creatures, leaving me with the ability to stroll deeper along the forest-lined broken asphalt to reach the higher Level zones. Memories from our only time here leads me past the golf course�a Level 30 zone with insane mutated gophers, squirrels, and a creature that shoots elemental water balls�and residences and toward the actual faculty buildings.

�Kim, need a map of the zones.�

�UPLOADED.�

�Thanks.�

A moment later, I�ve got the map uploaded to my own minimap, overlaying the information. I�m kind of missing Ali�s better updates, but what I have is more than sufficient. And even though I�m strolling, with my upgraded attributes, my stroll is the equivalent of an all-out sprint for your average pre-System person.

When I finally make it to the first campus, the zones creep up to a decent Level for experimentation. The first monster I encounter is a tiny Gribble with long fangs, sharp fur, and giant eyes. It could almost be considered cute if you squinted really hard. And ignored the poisonous cloud enveloping the creature. It charges me, moving so quickly that it looks as if it�s teleporting with each little hop it makes.

Gribble (Level 41 Monster)

HP: 381/381

MP: 833/833

Conditions: Enraged, Poisonous, Damage Resistance

I draw my beam pistol, firing from the hip and catching the creature mid-leap. While attacking it when it stops might seem to be the best option, if you can perceive, track, and hit the damn creature when it�s in the air, it can�t dodge. The first shot catches the Gribble�s fur on fire and tears muscles and skin. A second shot hits it as the creature lands with a stumble, while the third finishes off the monster as it recovers and attempts to run. I holster the pistol with a frown and make a note that the pistol takes a moment to recharge. Rate of fire was significantly lower than my ability to pull the trigger. Which, really, isn�t surprising. In fact, that�s part of the reason why melee weapons are favored by some�as attributes continue to creep up, high-tech weapons can�t keep up. A PAV like Sabre could actually be more a hindrance to movement than a help.

I stop briefly to loot the corpse before going deeper, wary of other attacks. A few minutes later, I stumble across the reason why I�m not being swarmed more�a trio of adventurers fighting in a triangular formation against a horde of Gribbles. All three of the adventurers are clad in adventurer chic, armored jumpsuits with a series of webbing for easy access injectors and smaller melee weapons. In fact, they look like one of any hundred groups I�ve seen�thin, muscled, and young. Quietly and switching off my Aura, I watch the trio fight, automatically finding a dark corner under a concrete overhang to watch.

For the most part, the group is rather boring�a DNA Mage, a Shieldsman using a sword and shield, and a Hoplite wielding a spear. Of course, they have their array of Skills to use, blasting out shock waves of energy, beams, and fire as well as cutting and thrusting. They have their own flare though. The spear-wielder has a flexible tail that wields a blasting rod, and the mage seems to be literally sucking the blood from the corpses around them to power his spells. All around the trio, a small cyclone swirls, pulling the poisonous cloud into the air above the trio and dispersing it. A quick glance at the trio�s Status shows that they�re poisoned but not dangerously so.

After verifying that the team is able to handle the Gribbles without my help, I begin the slow process of sneaking around the group. Kill stealing is considered bad form, and even if I don�t want to, these Gribbles are enraged and liable to attack me if they sense me. While moving, I note how the monkey man twitches and glances in my direction at one point, though he doesn�t stop wielding his spear. I�m nearly across the square outside the still-sealed faculty of dentistry when a roar attracts all our attention. As if the roar is a signal, all the Gribbles fall back.

The trio don�t take advantage of the Gribbles� retreat, their attention�and mine�drawn to the much larger threat padding forward. Eyes glowing red with swirls of purple within, fur fluffed to make the monster look larger than the van-size form it already has, the Queen Gribble howls again, its voice pitching higher and higher till even my ears are bleeding, the roar continuing without stop. The trio are worse off, weapons discarded as they clutch their ears. The Shieldsman is on his knees in pain, his afro sticking out around the helmet and his fingers.

Queen Gribble (Level 65 Alpha)

HP: 1411/1411

MP: 980/980

Conditions: Enraged, Poisonous, Damage Resistance, Pack Aura

�Arse��

The Gribbles that have fallen back rush the trio, intent on finishing the group while they�re incapacitated. Even as I swear, a part of me is focusing and reaching outward to the System and inward to my own body as I adjust my hearing. If higher attributes are good, why would a higher Perception make you more vulnerable to sensory-based attacks? It�d make no sense�and they don�t. In fact, one of the upgrades in a higher Perception attribute is an unseen resistance to such attacks. But because it�s unseen and hidden, it�s not used by most to the maximum effect. After being forced to fight with nothing but my frozen attributes for four years, I�m no longer part of the majority. With the barest of thoughts, I touch on the System and push my defenses to the maximum. The innate resistance of my Advanced Class already shunts much of the damage away; this makes the remaining damage less incapacitating.

89 Sonic Damage Taken

Auditory perception checks receive a -11 modifier for 9 seconds

Stun Resisted

A spell flows from my hands, a paired casting as I push up Mud Walls around the trio. A second later, the Mud Walls surge outward, catching the Gribbles. Earth Shape follows soon after as the ground under the trio sinks downward, providing additional defense.

The Queen Gribble turns toward me as its howl comes to an end. It snarls, shaking its body, and suddenly its body exudes a purple gas that flows not outward unrestricted, but in a dark tide toward me like a wave. I kick off the ground, jumping backward as I toss an Ice Blast downward at the Queen. The spell freezes chunks of the monster�s fur, and even the gas in its path freezes, solidifying the poison. Polar Zone erupts from my hands. But I�m focusing too much on casting, my mind split along the numerous lines of the spell, and I end up ignoring the smaller Gribbles. I pay for it when one slams into my newly landed form and bites my thigh.

I frown, the Gribble�s sharp teeth punching through the nanoweave and injecting my leg with a numbing poison, even as its airborne toxin attempts to close down my throat. A stab and twist with a knife pries the Gribble off my body even as I jump again, purposely exploding the ground beneath my jump to add to the Gribbles� confusion as I fly through the air.

You are Poisoned!

-2 Health per second for 11 seconds

Polar Zone seems to be working, slowing down not just the Queen Gribble but also the flow of her poisonous gas. Even so, the flow of the gas seems to follow my new trajectory even as more of it pours from the Queen�s body as well as all around its body, the less dense amount moving toward the slowly recovering group.

�So damn weird.� I grin then test out my next spell.

Mana Cage snaps into place around the Queen Gribble, trapping the creature in its glowing bands. The Queen Gribble snarls and snaps, slamming its body against the bars, but they hold, keeping the Queen inside, if not its poisonous gas. Damn, maybe I should have bought Mana Prison�but the Mana expenditure on that improved imprisonment spell was significantly higher.

Absently, I conjure my sword and cut a pair of leaping Gribbles apart before I land. A hacking from the direction of the trio of Adventurers reminds me that I�m not fighting by myself and I stop playing around. I can test my Spells further when I�m alone again. Rather than waste Mana, I raise my hand and conjure a series of Mana Missiles at the Queen. The Mana Missiles are an upgrade of my old mainstay Mana Dart, just improved to do more damage. A series of a half dozen Mana Missiles, each over a foot long and spinning, drill into the Queen�s body. Without the ability to dodge, the Queen soon becomes a heavily bleeding pincushion, one that nearly manages to tear apart my Mana Cage before it expires. Once the Queen expires, cleaning up the rest of the Gribbles is simple with the help of the trio of recovered Adventurers.

�Thank you,� the Swordsman says to me as he discards the health injector.

I frown slightly at the littering but keep my mouth shut for now. Still, my presence annoys the monkey Hoplite who snarls at me.

�What are you doing here? We�re the only party scheduled for today,� monkey man snarls as he levels his spear toward me.

�You�re welcome,� I reply, nodding to sword and shield wielder and ignoring monkey man.

At my blatant disinterest in him, monkey man steps forward but is restrained by the DNA Mage who shakes his head. On closer inspection, I realize the mage is actually probably older than me�in his forties at least. I absently consider recommending adding a few more points in Charisma and probably a good dye job to deal with my thinning grey hair.

�I�m going to report you to the Dungeon Keeper,� growls monkey man.

I just wave goodbye to the group, stopping only long enough to loot and deposit the Queen in my Altered Space before heading to my final objective�the Medical Faculty.

�Hey, that�s a Level 70 zone,� a new voice calls behind me�the older man�s, I guess.

I wave in acknowledgement without turning around. A part of me wonders about how the faculty of medicine�s unsealed but dentistry isn�t. Then again, I guess more people fear dentists than doctors, possibly because we�ve all suffered under the hands of a too-rough dental hygienist.

Stepping into the building, I scan the insides for threats while dismissing the notification informing me of the increased zone Level. A skittering noise alerts me to the incoming monsters long before I see them. A half dozen humanoids come out, most dressed in hospital gowns but a few in scrubs and casual wear, their skin grey and pallid. They alternately lope forward on all fours, fingernails unusually long and black, and walk, their backs hunched slightly. Even their eyes are rheumy and yellow, showing little signs of intelligence. A quick scan shows that they�re nearly all the same.

Diseased Revenant (Level 71)

HP: 3488/3488

MP: 0/0

Conditions: Diseased, Undead, Burst

My nose wrinkles slightly at the sight, but the humanoid, undead creatures are the perfect training dummies. And dummies the Revenants are. They launch themselves at me with little finesse but a ton of aggression, only savage cunning guiding their tactical decisions, like attempts at flanking me. What they lack in brains, they make up in an inability to feel damage, an unrelenting aggression that�d make an angry hornet look like a lovely butterfly, an innately high resistance to damage, and prodigious health.

Firestorms are my first attempt at dealing with them, the upgraded Fireball spell forming a whirlpool of flames that expands from my body. System-reinforced walls burn, creaking in agony as the temperature spikes. Wooden counters turn to cinders within seconds and the Revenants cook, flesh crisping and splitting to showcase tight muscles and leaking, evaporating fluids. Yet they don�t stop.

A twist of my hands and a Mud Wall flows from the floor in a wave, smashing the monsters backward, but the pair that split off to flank me attack now. Two quick steps intercept one, a hand clasping its arm and body to twist and toss it against the second, before an Ice Beam strikes the pair. Their bodies twitch as they attempt to free themselves, frozen flesh and limbs shattering under their exertions and the over-heated air. Even my own health is dropping, if only briefly before my regeneration replaces it, from the remaining heat.

I grin as I hear, in the darkness, additional movement as the Revenants� howls echo down the hallways, drawing others of their kind to them. Good. I�m going to have fun with this.

Hours later, I finally jump out of the top floor of the building, landing lightly before ripping the embedded claw of the Revenant�s Zone Boss out of my arm. I grimace as blood flows out, dripping to the ground even as the wound visibly closes, while a dark greyness spreads around the flesh. Diseased. Such a nice status effect�reduces an ever-increasing amount of attributes before it peaks and the attributes begin to recover. While the disease statuses don�t stack among the normal Revenants, the Boss and Elites carry around another form of disease which is a lot longer lasting and which even my increased Constitution and Resistances can�t remove within minutes.

Revenant Alpha Claw (Level 79)

Crafting material. May be used by an experienced crafter to make equipment.

�I see you cleared the zone. In record time too. That deserves a drink.�

The voice of a thin, weedy man breaks my train of thought. I glance over as the long-haired man in a waist coat tosses a bottle to me. I catch the bottle, chuckling as I read the label�good old Apocalypse Ale, brewed up in cold Whitehorse.

Rodolfo Stone, the University of British Columbia Dungeon Keeper, Wayward Son (Level 21 Dark Son)

HP: 480/480

MP: 1610/1610

Conditions: All-Seeing Eye, Dungeon Link, Simulacrum (x2)

�Thanks.� I take a sip and raise an eyebrow as the rich, dark ale takes a cudgel to my taste buds, reminding me what good alcohol is like. Obviously the Brewers have Leveled up again.

�You�re welcome, Mr. Lee,� Rodolfo said. �Now I got to tell you you�re suspended for the next two weeks. Can�t have you skipping the line, you know?�

�Really?� I say. �You do know who I am, yes?�

�You�re the boss man. But the rules are the rules, dude.�

I chuckle but don�t push the matter. There�s something more interesting to pursue. �You know how long it took me to clear the building?�

�Yes.� Rodolfo flicks one hand, and a moment later, I get a notification with a series of numbers on it. Mana and stamina consumed, the ratio and percentage left at any time, the number of times I zeroed out either�none�number of monsters killed, the average, longest, and fastest amount of time to kill each monster, the spells and weapons I used, and more. It�s a huge list of data, information which runs on and on, about every aspect of my fight. �I also got the rest of your trip, but this is the good stuff.�

�You have all this information on hand?� I say, somewhat startled as I read through it all. �Do you give this to everyone?�

�Nah, just those who pay.� Rodolfo gestures again and a bottle of Apocalypse Ale appears in his hand. �Got to buy the Platinum package. But you know, you�re the boss man, so I figured you�d want to see this. Pretty cool build there.�

�Thanks. What else do you offer?�

�I give advice on gaps, but you�ve got a pretty solid build. Skill use, training options within the dungeon to cover areas of weakness. The usual, you know.�

�What do you think my build is?� I ask. It�s not as if I haven�t given it much thought. Even if I hate the way it makes our life feel like a game, the idea of proactively determining what you want to be isn�t wrong.

�Endurance build. You ain�t a duelist or adventurer. What you got there is meant for a grind and pound. Not enough damage to do a one-hit kill against an equal Level opponent, but your Stamina didn�t even dip into the low sixties. You�re like a giant energizer bunny of Stamina. If anything, I�d add more Willpower or Intelligence to up your Mana and regen rates.� Rodolfo waves the bottle of Apocalypse Ale between sentences to punctuate his words. �You also need to smooth out your spell chaining too.�

�I just bought them,� I say, offering up the tidbit of information.

Rodolfo nods. �Gotcha. Well, I�d still work on chaining them. But unless you�re going for a utility build, I�d stick to what you know. Been watching some of the arena fights they�ve started piping in, and at your Level, a fraction of a second hesitation gets you dead.�

�Arena fights?� I drain the bottle in my hand.

When I look around for somewhere to put it, Rodolfo snorts. �Toss it. The dungeon will clean it. And I got no one coming through this section before it�s done its job.� He suits action to words with his own bottle. �The Galactics got a real Roman thing, you know? It�s their hockey.�

�Right,� I say and make a note to look into these arena fights. It�d be good to see what the Master Class fighters are like at my Level. �One last thing then. Mikito mentioned you get some of the other Master Classers grinding here sometimes?�

�The champions? Yeah, I get them to test my new zones before I open them up.�

�Good. I�ll want their stats,� I say.

�No can do, boss man,� Rodolfo says. �Client privilege.�

�It�s my dungeon,� I say softly, the friendliness gone from my voice as I meet his gaze. I trigger Champion�s Aura too, but Rodolfo doesn�t even blink. I guess one of those Status effects of his is blocking the Aura.

�And if you fire me and take the job, you can get it,� Rodolfo says. �But you got to fire me first.�

�You sure you want to do this?� I say, the threat ringing out.

�Sure as donuts have holes.�

�Okay.� I raise my hand, tapping the air.

Rodolfo shrugs and pulls another bottle from his storage before sipping on it.

A moment later, I sigh. �Damn. Portal�s not opening.�

�Can�t Portal out from here. Or in. You should know better,� Rodolfo says with a sniff. �I�d bounce you out, but I�m about to be fired and I�m not feeling particularly charitable.�

I shake my head. �I�m not firing you over saying no to me. I just wanted to make sure you were the kind of person who deserved to know that kind of information.�

�And you thought threatening was a good way of doing that?� Rodolfo snorts, a look of pity on his face as he turns on his heels and walks off.

�Hey, about the port�,� I call to the dungeon keeper.

�Walk!�

I guess I deserve that. Still, as I turn toward the exit and run, I chuckle. Looks like Lana and Katherine did a good job with Rodolfo. Even if he�s a touch obstinate.

As I run, I clear up the less important notifications I�ve received.

Congratulations! You have reached Level 16 as an Erethran Paladin

Attributes automatically allocated. You have 39 additional free attributes and 5 Class Skill points to assign.

I�m a little surprised to see how fast I Leveled. With a mental command, the experience notification messages are pulled up and I scan through them. Let�s see�a bonus for being the first to clear the Level 70 zone. Bonus experience for doing it alone. A long list of things which I�ve killed, including the zone boss. All those notifications I skip over. And of course, the bonus experience from fighting with the champions and clearing the dungeon, including the first clear bonus there. Oh, and I�ve been steadily accumulating a small amount of experience every day for actually doing my job as a settlement owner. It�s discounted since I don�t have the Classes for it, but since it�s based off total population, it�s still a significant boost.

Huh.

The experience gain from being a settlement owner is a bit of a realization. While I�m sure I used to get it, with the lower population, settlement level, and my lack of involvement, it has been seriously discounted. Still, the experience is evil. But also sensible, since otherwise royalty, which is never allowed to get too down and dirty in dungeons, would never be able to Level up.

After a brief consideration, I decide that with five free Class Skill points, I�ll be able to get a point in everything if I desire, so I dump another point into Penetration. Always good to hit a little harder.

Chapter 8

Whitehorse. Such a small city�Town now�in the middle of nowhere. Even before all this, it didn�t even have thirty thousand people in it. These days, between those we saved and the new immigrants, it�s nearly back to its former peak. Even if the vast majority aren�t humans. Truinnar in formal tunic-and-pants suits whose color reflects their dark skin, Yerrick with their horns and fur, the Kapre towering over everyone, nude but for their bark-like skin, cyborg-like creatures, and monsters straight out of fantasy books all mix on the rune-covered streets, Mana lights providing illumination on this cloud-covered night. Everyone and everything�s armed, moving in small groups as they get ready for another day of adventuring.

Walking down Main Street, I look at the towering silver building which looks so out of place among the historic, frontier town architecture of Whitehorse�s Main Street. Adventurers stream in and out of the tower, heading upstairs to the Shop, checking on newly designated Quests, and complaining to the various administrative personnel. I ignore them all, slipping past the groups to head toward the back of the building, once again noting how weirdly distorted space is here. Ceilings too high, corridors too wide, and the building somehow longer and wider than its outside appearance would indicate.

At the bank, the single elevator slides open to allow Ali and myself to step within. It moves smoothly, the acceleration barely perceptible as it takes us to my appointment. I grunt, feet tapping as I adjust the hem of my jacket.

�Chill, boy-o. It�s just a date,� Ali says with a grin.

�It�s a meeting. Not a date,� I growl softly, and the olive-skinned Spirit chuckles.

�Wasn�t talking about you. Figured I�d chat with Roxley�s AI, see if she�s up to anything�� Ali waggles his eyebrows.

�You know, I�ve always wondered. She�s an AI, you�re a Spirit. I mean, how do you guys��

�Bang?�

�Talk.�

�With great care.�

Before I can press Ali for a real answer, the doors slide open. The room within is all too familiar, the long metallic table and pair of chairs, the plates and dishes set for the first, cold course. In the corner, Roxley�s personal chef hovers, its spherical body ready to roll�and roll out�the next course.

�Damn him,� I mutter to myself.

�For feeding you?� Roxley says in reply while walking out from his office. The dark elf smiles at me, gesturing to the table. �I recall you enjoyed dinners here before. I would be remiss if I didn�t feed a guest.�

I stare at the Truinnar, his wide shoulders and trim waist set off by the black-and-silver tunic in his house colors, the well-cut pair of pants outlining every inch of his muscular legs. The smile that is always on his lips but sometimes relaxes a little when Roxley actually finds something funny for real. The now-electric blue-hair contrasts with his white eyebrows where a piercing gaze interrogates me and my body. As I stare at the Truinnar, Ali elbows me in the side to get my attention.

Immediately after, the Spirit steps forward and bows slightly. �I shall take my leave then?�

Even as he does so, I see a new notification.

Mental Influence Resisted

Now get your act together, boy-o

�Dinner is fine. I�m sure it�s lovely as always.� I nod to Roxley�s chef, taking a seat while Roxley sits across me in his own, and I bury my irritation. I do need to eat, the food is good, and I know the man well enough to know that this is part payment for what I�ll ask of him. �But I do want to know what you so urgently needed to speak to me about.�

�Of course. But first, a toast.� Roxley raises the wine glass, a pale yellow drink with flakes of squirming dark matter within. �To your Master Class.�

�Thanks.� I sip on the drink. It�s sweet and fruity and smooth and the next thing I know, it�s gone. Too fast for me to remember to have scanned it, which is a damn shame.

�Jumma summer wine. Summers last nine years, but the only time the vegetation can fruit is within the first and last month,� Roxley says.

�Thank you,� I say. �And congratulations on your new title. Count now, is it?�

�Yes.� Roxley stares at me, presumably looking for the anger or resentment I showed so many years ago. But I�ve had a lot of time to think about it, more time to consider what he did. And while I still don�t agree, I no longer hold a grudge against him for his choices. Perhaps he sees that, for his lips relax, his smile growing more natural. I wouldn�t be surprised if he did�Roxley has always been more perceptive than I am. �We�ve managed to stabilize many of the dungeons around the city and the territory. Our results have made the Duchess extremely happy. Now, we should eat before the food grows too cold.�

I take Roxley�s diversion with grace, digging in. I recall that the Truinnar hate speaking about business at the dinner table. Even the little he�s done shows that Roxley�s gone native a bit, adapting to our customs slightly. Dinner, as always, is a gourmet�s wet dream. While the vast majority of food served is nothing that I recognize, years under the System has acclimatized most people to not asking where and what kind of beast their latest meal is coming from. At least, not if they don�t have an iron stomach. Armed with that knowledge, it�s a lot easier to just enjoy the wide range of tastes that dance across one�s tongue.

We avoid sensitive topics, catching up on how things have gone for many of my acquaintances, the Town as a whole, and some of my remaining business interests as well. Of note, the local brewing company has expanded again, taking up nearly an entire block as it attempts to meet Galactic demand. In addition, Dawson opened up a year ago, the city retaken by a trio of ambitious adventuring teams. Now, the Guild the teams are a part of have their headquarters in the newly reclaimed city and are raking in Credits as their members tackle the high-Level zones all around the newly rebuilt Town. If there�s one sour note, it�s that there�s not a single living human in that town from before. It is very much a Galactic settlement. Way I hear it, even Ingrid hasn�t visited.

Time passes swiftly and I find myself laughing and relaxing, the conversation flowing as easily as the drink. It�s only after dinner, after we�ve made our way to Roxley�s study, that the tone and air of the meeting changes. Sitting across from each other in plush chairs that conform to our bodies, we stare across the intervening space, unwilling to break the moment of camaraderie. But business must be spoken and so I push ahead.

�You wanted to speak with me.� I say.

�Yes. Your new Class complicates matters,� Roxley says as he leans back. �But you�ve never not complicated your life, have you, John?�

�Don�t know about that,� I say with a shrug. �Just did what I wanted. But why�s it a problem?�

�You understand what your Class entails? What it means for the Erethrans?� Before I can answer, he continues. �You are the only active Paladin in the entire Empire. You stand outside of all command structures, reporting only to their ruler.�

Huh. I guess he doesn�t actually know the details of my Class. I do note how Roxley says �active,� but I keep my own face smooth.

�You may, by tradition and right of arms, judge and execute any and all in their Empire with the exception of the queen. You are, furthermore, considered a representative of their beliefs and their will.�

�I know,� I say. �And�?�

�And you are human. With no political or social backing. Your authority carries only the weight of tradition behind it and what you, yourself, are able to bring to bear. You have authority but no power,� Roxley says and leans forward. �And as such, you are a pawn. One that many will eye in hope of using against the Erethrans.�

�They may try. But if this is what you wanted to speak of, you could have saved your breath. I knew what I was getting into.�

�Interesting.� Roxley leans back, steepling his fingers. He peers at me over the aqua-colored nails. �I was lead to believe you were not given much time to consider your Class Quest and its implications.�

�I wasn�t,� I say. No use hiding what is common knowledge. None of what happened to me is hard to ascertain.

�Then tell me, John, what do you intend to do?�

�The usual,� I say, smiling slightly. �Whatever needs to be done. Which, at this point, is getting Earth its Galactic seat.�

Roxley lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. �Still focused on your impossible quests, are you John? And so, my invitation was accepted.�

�Yes. You understand Galactic politics better than I do, and probably have a much clearer idea of how all of it is affecting Earth. From what Kim�s analyzed, about six percent of the unclaimed City Cores will be very difficult to claim on a permanent basis in the short term. For the remainder, it will take no longer than four months for them to be claimed. If I�m not reading that wrong, we�re going to run out of areas to contest very, very soon. We either need to make enough friends, fast, or we�re going to have to start kicking ass.�

�Which would be foolish,� Roxley says sternly.

�Because we can�t win a long-term fight?� I nod. �No. We can�t. Four years ago, we might have been able to bulrush the powers out. Hit them hard enough and fast enough and take over enough City Cores that we could use the rights and planetary powers to mitigate their retaliation. Now, there are too many Master Class fighters on this world to make it viable even if we wanted to try it.

�At least not alone.�

Roxley stares at me and shakes his head. �I cannot commit my Duchess to such an action. Not without her prior approval. Not even for you.�

�But you can advise me on the political environment, can�t you?�

�I can.� Roxley waves and a screen appears, hovering between the two of us. It�s a simple pie chart next to the map of the world. I frown at the map then realize why it�s bothering me�it�s not the usual one we see but a different one that rebalances the landmasses to their actual sizes. The Peter�s map. And yeah, it�s my higher Intelligence supplying stupid facts dredged up from a West Wing episode. �This is how I would break the votes you seek up.�

41.2% Human-Controlled Settlement Votes

8.8% Galactic Edge

17.6% Irvina

8.6% The Fist

2.14% Artisans

14.7% Miscellaneous powers

6.96% Unclaimed Settlement Areas

�Huh,� I say and stare at the more detailed breakdown of the �miscellaneous powers.�

�The Galactic Council is made up of four main and two smaller factions. Now, while what I speak of is in generalities, it is wise to remember that these are generalities. Not all races and individuals will �fit� within these categories. Still, it�s a useful shorthand.� When I nod, Roxley continues. �The first major faction is the Galactic Edge�a group dedicated to expansion in System-registered planets for additional resources. You�ll find many of the more recent additions to the System part of this faction, including races like mine. The Galactic Edge is the third largest faction in terms of seats on the Council.

�The Irvina�named after the main solar system and planet from which the Council operates from�is the largest faction by number of seats. They consist of a limited number of races, however, as they consist of races introduced to the System the longest. They include the Movana, a few active dragons, and your dwarves. Obviously, their close allies are all included in the displayed number.�

I frown at his words, trying to recall the image of the Galactic System. �But don�t the Truinnar have as much space as the Movana?�

�Space, yes. But like your world, we face the issue of votes on many of our planets. We either have not covered sufficient landmass, in many cases, or are forced to deal with interlopers or split votes. My people are not very altruistic, and as such, politics can be dangerous on our home planets,� Roxley says.

�Right. So geographic space and number of worlds aren�t the same as number of seats,� I say softly.

As the Movana are older, they have more seats because they�ve managed to concentrate power without giving up their settlements. It makes sense then that the older races manage to get away with it too�even if older planets become uninhabitable due to the flood of Mana, they have the existing resources to flood a new city with people and Credits and establish their dominance. And it�s not as if the all-out fights happen as much on non-Dungeon-World-designated planets.

�The third faction has a long, cumbersome name which will not translate well. Most know them as the Fist. They are made up of individuals and particularly warlike species and kingdoms, like the Hakarta and your Erethran Empire. Their goal is to push for further exploration into the Restricted Zone near the Mana Spring, designate more Dungeon Worlds, and increase support for combat Classers in general,� Roxley says.

�Were they the ones pushing for our conversion?� I ask softly, my eyes narrowing in anger.

�Yes. As were the Irvina,� Roxley says. �You must understand, each new Dungeon World relieves the level of Mana buildup in every other world, slowing down the process.�

�I know. So why don�t you just open a dozen more?� Having been stuck on a Restricted Planet for the last four years, I can understand why they�d prefer to slow down Mana buildup. Dealing with the ever-increasing monster hordes at ever-increasing Levels is an impossible task for a society. It�s one thing when your average monster is Level 20 and increases to Level 30. It�s another when same increase is to 130.

�System limitations and politics,� Roxley says. �Like most things, opening a Dungeon World requires a significant amount of resources and also specific circumstances. It�s only possible to designate a Dungeon World when a planet is first introduced to the System. The world should also be pre-inhabited, preferably by a sentient species, to handle the increased Mana load which will be directed to the planet. Failed integration will result not only in the loss of the world to the System but also a loss of all the resources dedicated to its creation.

�And, of course, the entire Council must contribute to its establishment. As the greatest benefits of the Dungeon World are seen by those closest to it, it can be politically difficult to justify such an expenditure, even if it is best for all parties.�

I grunt, making a mental note. Those two factions are on my shit list.

�The last major faction is the Artisans. They�re the second largest, with numbers close to the Irvina, though their individual power is somewhat limited by their lack of Combat Class Masters and higher. The Artisans do receive significant support from various corporations, so it would be foolish to underestimate their strength,� Roxley warns me. �As for the two minor factions, the Technocrats seek to explore the limits of pre-System technology�your �normal� physics and chemistry�within and outside the bounds of the System. They�re a small group but have a pair of members on the Inner Council, giving them a greater level of prestige than they would have otherwise. And lastly, the Systemers are not an official faction, but their religious belief in the System is widespread among the Galactic System.�

I nod slightly. The Technocrats are a known group for me�many of the writers I read in my continuous quest for knowledge about the System come from the group. It seems the Venn diagram of Technocrats and Questors has significant overlap. They�re also known to be one of the few groups who would voluntarily leave the radius of the System, venturing into the deep unknown to explore, learn about non-System technology from before the System took over, and test older technology. Overall, they�re considered kooks of the highest order�but dangerous and useful kooks.

�As you can see, the Artisans have little presence on Earth. Of those here, they�re not truly organized, their presence more based on individual desires rather than a group effort. Of course, the Fist has significant presence, with Ares and a few other Corporations and the Hakarta Legion owning the major cores,� Roxley says, gesturing to the hanging notification.

�This makes a lot more sense.� I tap my lips, doing the math in my head. �But we need eighty percent of the vote, and that means we�ll need the vast majority of the people on the board to vote for us. Including getting the majority of those you labeled independents, assuming I�m missing out on either the Truinnar or the Movana.�

�Yes. It is possible, I believe, for you to gain either of the pair�s backing for your endeavor, but not both.�

�Figures,� I mutter, shaking my head. The way the numbers read, I�m not even sure there�s a way to make this work. Getting so many independents would mean speaking with a large number of disparate organizations. �Why are they indies anyway? Doesn�t it make sense to join together with the factions?�

�While there are four major factions, there are numerous other, smaller groups. Some are allied with the major factions on major topics, but not on others. Others have too-contrasting beliefs or just are not interested in joining the larger factional politics on a regular basis,� Roxley says, smiling slightly. �Some prefer to be independent, no matter the cost.�

�Ali, make a note to have Kim filter for objectionable moral and cultural practices, will you? If we�re going to have to stomp on some ankles to get our votes, might as well make it count.�

�You know, boy-o, Kim�s upgraded enough for you to tell him yourself. At least up here,� Ali sends back.

I grunt, sending the note directly to the AI. I get a confirmation, though I send a reminder for Ali to double-check the list. While Kim�s smart, he is still a program and I�m not entirely sure his views on morality line up with mine. For that matter, neither do Ali�s at times, but he�s been with me long enough to understand my intentions.

�Knowing all this, you still intend to continue your quest?� Roxley says, leaning forward as he places his hands on the armchair rests.

I find myself nodding even as I twirl my now-empty glass. Roxley shuts his mouth as the drone servant comes in to pour refreshments for both of us. Afterward, it leaves, gliding away silently on its anti-gravity jets.

�And you wish for our help?�

�If your Duchess will offer it. I�m assuming there are others I�ll need to speak to within your kingdom?� I say. While they might all be the same race and kingdom, the Truinnar are rivals to some extent, peers fighting one another.

�May I make a suggestion?� At my nod, Roxley continues. �If my liege agrees to your request, it might be best to allow her�or specifically, myself as her representative�to speak with the others on Earth. Your time is limited and your understanding of the politics limited.�

And of course, it also means we�ll end up owing a much larger boon to the Duchess. But the offer is tempting. Roxley�s right. We are short on time here, if I want to meet the deadline of the next vote.

�Very well. If she�ll agree to help us,� I say.

�Good.� Roxley taps his lips. �You will find it hard to gain support from most without some concessions. I won�t ask what you are willing to give up, but it is something you must consider. The Fist, for example, would be raring to have you in their camp. It is not an all-too-disagreeable notion for the Edge, as we vote together quite often.�

�But doing so will put us at odds with the Artisans,� I say, running my fingers along the edge of the wine glass. �And they�re the second most powerful group who might be willing to work with us. Certainly one of the most economically beneficial for humans.�

�Yes,� Roxley says. �Though the Edge has some additional benefits. For example, have you considered the benefits of colonization?�

I blink at Roxley. I�m about to protest about the sheer number of hurdles involved in a proper colonization effort before I realize the System wipes out so many of these problems. Hell, given enough Credits and Mana, it�s possible to terraform a planet in days instead of decades. Never mind the fact that our bodies can handle a much, much wider variety of environments with minor issues under the System.

�Touch�,� I say.

�One last matter, John,� Roxley says. �Have you even confirmed your support among your race?�

�No. I needed a better understanding of the situation first,� I say before shrugging. �They�re next on my list.�

�Then you�ll understand why a minimum prerequisite for us to take any action officially would be for you to gain their agreement?� Roxley says, and I find myself nodding. Roxley smiles before he waves his hand toward the notifications, pulling up the independent list. �Then in the meantime, there are a few groups I feel you might be able to work on.�

I glance at Roxley�s list, making mental notes of the names as the Truinnar speaks. Still, while he talks, I make note of how he says what he says. Because while I know he is unlikely to lie, where and at whom he points us is suspect. For all the friendliness he and I might share, the Truinnar always has more than one goal.

Even so, I listen. Because any information is better than nothing. And I�ve got about four years� worth of local and thousands of years of Galactic history to learn.

Chapter 9

When I walk out of the building later that evening�much later�I find the city still humming with activity. Between tech, Skills, and spells, there�s little to stop an ambitious adventuring team from working through the night. In fact, most nighttime quests pay significantly better than daytime quests, no matter the type. Part of the reason is that nocturnal monsters are generally tougher, but it�s the loss and inconvenience which probably keeps nocturnal-based quests better paying.

As I stare at the scurrying adventurers, I touch my lips absently. Sometimes, I really wish I was like these others. Able to focus on simple tasks, simple quests. Go out, collect a dozen claws. Kill a few monsters, clear a couple of dungeons. Escort a bioorganic researcher who wants to check out how the Mana overflow has affected our ecosystem. Simple. Easy. Uncomplicated.

Not like planet-wide politics. Not like running a settlement. Or a handsome dark elf kissing you on the lips as you leave, then shutting the door on you.

Simple.

�So, Paladin, are you done?� Ayuri says.

I blink, tilting my head to see the champion standing beside me. I frown, prodding my memory and realizing she�s been there for minutes now. A slight shiver runs through me at the thought that I�d let someone this dangerous so close to me. But there are no indications of danger from her, none of the subtle signals one learns to pick up on to indicate killing intent. In the end, she was just standing there.

�For now.� I sigh and drop my hand. �Why are you here?�

�It was pointed out to me I was a little hasty,� Ayuri says, glaring backward at Unilo. The female Guard waves at me in greeting, slitted purple eyes dancing with ill-concealed humor. �Just because you have the Class means little.�

�I see,� I say, shifting slightly as I eye our surroundings.

Just over a score of people are out and about on the streets, most of them adventurers thankfully. Any collateral damage from Skill use is probably survivable. Blink Step down the road to the other side of the river will pull them out of danger too. So long as I head left after the Blink Step, away from the hospital, I should be able to pull the resulting battle away from most civilians. Of course, the Kapre live there, but they�ve got their own protections.

�Come.� Ayuri points at a gaping black Portal which offers no information about where we�re going next.

�You know, it�s been a long day already��

Ayuri drops a hand on my shoulder and guides me to the Portal. Her strength is significantly higher than mine and continuous, as inexorable as tectonic plates shoving me forward. The Portal widens even further, allowing the two of us to walk through side-by-side. We�re followed by Unilo and Mayaya, who is looking as bored as ever.

�Plenty of use you were,� I send to Ali as he pops into existence over my shoulder just before I step into the Portal.

I could fight this, but my gut says that whatever their intentions, it doesn�t include putting a bullet in my head in front of a self-dug grave. The mental shrug I get back from Ali is insouciant enough to put my teeth on edge as the darkness takes me.

The other end of the Portal is in a small settlement, somewhere on the North American continent as we�re still on Earth and the sun still hasn�t risen. I look at the buildings, dismissing those with Galactic architecture and spending time staring at the 1960s brick-and-wood construction for clues. All of it is written in English, so Canada or North America. The air conditioning units makes me guess somewhere down south. Well, that and the lingering heat from the day. Of particular note though is the population striding around the town, many still dressed in their uniforms.

�Yours?� I ask Ayuri as she releases me. The happy nod she gives me makes me grunt, but I follow her passively down the street, heading for a newer Galactic building. �Don�t recall seeing the Erethran Empire on the list of settlement owners.�

�It�s because it�s not. It�s owned by Unilo directly,� Ayuri says.

When I look at Unilo, she smiles sunnily.

�We�re still waiting for the requisitioned Credits for the space,� Ayuri adds. �Since Unilo�s a d�Cha, she�s got the Credits to spend on this till my requisition comes through.�

Ali chuckles, floating alongside us in his pint-sized form. �Galactic bureaucracy. The same wherever you go.�

�Except the M453-Xs the Gnumma, the Vassalee, the��

�Okay, okay, fine. Not universal,� Ali says grumpily and glares at Mayaya, who continues to ignore the Spirit.

I chuckle softly, letting the pair distract me as we walk into the building. Within, it�s surprisingly spacious and empty, hosting but four shimmering blue cells. Within one of those cells, a pair of Erethran grunts spar, one wielding a knife and the other what looks like brass knuckles. The pair are Basic Classes and not particularly skilled from what I can see.

�You going to put me in there to fight a bunch of your men?� I say, taking a guess at her intentions. I�m hoping it�s this option, because the other one is much more painful.

�Of course not. What would the challenge be there?� Ayuri says with a snort. �No, I�m going to fight you.�

Standing across from Ayuri in the middle of the reinforced fight ring, I feel my heartbeat slowly speeding up. All four shield walls have been allocated to our single cell, providing the ever-growing audience greater protection. Crouched slightly with my hands by my sides, I watch the purple-haired Erethran casually stretch across the ring.

�Rules?� I say to break the silence as Ayuri continues to ready herself.

�No leaving the cell,� Ayuri says. �Five taps, audible indication, or five percent remaining of your health is a loss. The building is tracking our health. There�ll be an auditory and visual cue to stop fighting.�

�Okay.�

I could protest, but truth be told, a part of me is looking forward to this. It�s been four years and a lot of experience since we met. Now, I�m curious to see what the gap is. Ayuri isn�t like me, having skipped an entire Class. She has over eighty Levels� worth of attributes and Skills as an advantage and countless years of experience. In a straight duel like this, I have no realistic chance of winning. But still, I find myself grinning in anticipation even as I activate Mana Sight. Because this is going to be fun.

�On your signal, Unilo,� Ayuri says.

There�s a tense silence as Unilo stares between the two of us, a silence which grows as the seconds tick by without a signal. �Now.�

Ayuri reacts first, appearing behind me, but it�s a move I�ve anticipated. I�m already dropping and kicking backward even as I conjure a Soul Shield around my body. My attack connects as Ayuri refuses to dodge, bouncing off her Soul Shield. It�s only when I�m rolling away that I catch a glimpse of Ayuri�s soulbound weapon. The short, flame-bladed sword flicks downward, sending a Blade Strike that I barely dodge by continuing to roll. The shorter blade allows Ayuri to swing the blade back, sending another successful Blade Strike at me even as I recover. The single strike drains nearly half of my Soul Shield, making my eyes narrow. Christ, she�s put a ton of points into the attack Skill.

She blurs, charging me as I watch the streams of Mana collect and swirl around her body. Haste. A Basic Class Skill that speeds up her movement at the cost of a tremendous amount of Mana and Stamina while active. She crosses the distance between us in seconds and I find myself blocking the flurry of thrusts and cuts with my own sword.

Even as I fall back, I call forth my Thousand Swords Skill, adding the floating blades and complicating the space between us. Now, not only does she have to work around my initial attack, she also has to move around the flowing follow-up blades. Each block cuts off an area of attack, each additional blade reducing her angles of attack. Rather than avoid the angles though, Ayuri blocks and beats aside my floating weapons, forcefully opening up angles. The ring of blades, the shuffle of our steps, and the harsh grunts of exertion fill the room as we clash. Within seconds of our clash, I�ve been hit a half dozen times, leaving my Soul Shield with a sliver of health. It�s only when I have up the Haste spell that things begin to stabilize.

The champion twists her hand as we clash again, triggering a Skill and breaking my grip on my sword, disarming me. I block the next thrust with my left forearm, the last of my Soul Shield dying in a flare as the blade opens up my forearm. But the sacrifice pushes the blade away from my chest and gives me time to point and fire my beam pistol at her face. The attack flares as it impacts against her Soul Shield, but more importantly, it blinds her for a second to allow me to scramble backward.

�Your sword skills have improved,� Ayuri praises me with a grin. She tosses the wavy short blade from hand to hand as she stalks me around the ring, giving me time to replace my Soul Shield.

�You ready to get serious?� I say.

�You noticed?�

�Obviously.�

�Good. I�m coming then,� Ayuri says, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Even before her words end, she�s on me, Blink Stepping to cover the short distance.

I throw a reverse lunge, dropping to one knee with my back leg extended and catching her directly in her chest. Her Shield bursts, the momentum of her charge and Blink added to my own Skills and attack shattering her protection. But it doesn�t stop her. The champion uses the momentum of my attack to spin around, a hand trailing along the edge of my blade as her other hand conjures another sword. I retrieve my sword into my left hand to block her attack, but she twitches her original hand and tosses her short sword at me directly. Behind the attack comes another and another.

Within seconds, she�s pulling copies of her soulbound blade and throwing them at me, cutting through my blocks by sheer volume, each blade unerring. Under repeated assault, my Soul Shield fails again, the newly conjured blades breaking past my hasty defenses. Even as the first blade plunges into my shoulder, I trigger my Skill.

Blink Step.

Beneath me, Ayuri spins around then looks up, spotting my falling form. She smirks, already throwing knives to intercept me and the grenades I�ve thrown. Falling as I am, I can see when recognition catches up with instinct, just before her first blade pierces the first grenade.

A chaos grenade.

Fish explode from the grenade�barbed, slimy fish that rain down around us. Another grenade detonates, consuming her conjured blade and leaving a small hole in space. A third grenade lands by her feet and a horde of sizzling, molten fire elementals manifest. Ayuri lets out an involuntary yelp as she sinks, pushed deeper into the swarm as she blocks my falling attack. Already, I can see her Soul Shield flaring as the elementals eat into it.

�Chaos grenades?� Ayuri snarls, gripping my arm as I recover from the fall and blocked attack.

She twists and tosses me away, dodging my follow-up blades at the same time, her movements barely hindered by the elementals. I spin through the air and slam into the side of the cage. By the time I recover, she�s cast an Ice Storm, slaying the newly formed elementals and catching me in the back blast.

Even as I stagger, the Soul Shield reforming with a thought, Ayuri is stalking forward. With a thought, I trigger the mines I laid when I dropped, the expanding Tier II foam surprise only barely catching the fast-moving champion at the edges. Long enough for me to cast a Freezing Blade on my sword.

�Freezing Blade. Good choice.� With a shrug, Ayuri snaps the restricting foam. �But useless.�

I snort, ignoring her taunts as Ayuri darts forward more cautiously. Our blades clash once again, the ice creeping up along her hand with each attack. But as fast as they connect, the blades are dismissed, the freezing barely given time to act upon the champion. And what does appear on her hands seems to be dismissed by a swirl of Mana around her body. Another Skill�probably one that removes Status effects.

She shatters my defense in a few strikes, my Soul Shield failing once more. A Disarm opens up an avenue of attack, allowing Ayuri to snap an elbow strike at my temple. I stagger backward, a cut opening above my eye even as I try to move away from another flung blade. I twist, throwing a half-formed Blade Strike to push her away. I split my focus for a second, throwing Blade Strikes without care as I attempt to buy time to finish forming my spell. It works and Mud Walls forms, rushing upward ahead of me to block her view.

�You�re getting your ass kicked, boy-o,� Ali says, chortling.

�No shit. I barely have time to use my Skills.�

Through Ali�s viewpoint outside the ring, I can see Ayuri casually dodging my last Blade Strike before smirking at the Mud Walls. She raises a hand, forming a glowing ball of power in it�a charged Skill, it seems. I�m vaguely curious if it�s a Master or Basic Class attack, but mostly, I�m focusing on the flow of Mana as seen by Ali. It�s not as effective as viewing it directly, but it�s good enough.

When she releases the attack, I Blink Step, appearing behind Ayuri. Immediately, I cast Army of One, hammering her with everything I have. The blades send slashes of power into her back, blood erupting from her body as the attack tears through her Shield and defenses. The champion immediately twists and dodges some of the attacks. My Master Class Skill makes a difference here, making her numerous defensive Skills useless. Ayuri is sent spinning into the Mud Walls, her health plummeting as each attack shaves off a visible chunk. By the time the attack is over, the champion has lost half of her health and I�ve lost the element of surprise.

�That hurt,� Ayuri says, her bloody smile widening. �Now I�m really going to kick your ass.�

My head slams hard against the floor and I slide backward, slamming into the sparring ring�s force fields. The first two have dissipated from the concussive force of Ayuri�s last attack. The third shatters as I�m forced into it, piles of rubble building up around my sliding body and being turned to dust under the force. The last and strongest field holds though, leaving me bloody and shattered. The room is dyed red, a warning klaxon shattering the air as it marks the end of our sparring match.

For a moment, I focus and cast a Major Healing on myself, pushing through the pain. The spell is insufficient for the sheer amount of damage done to me, but it fixes the major problems, stemming blood loss from ruptured organs and open wounds. The force field drops, and more healing magic descends on my prone form.

�What� Skill?� I send the thought to Ali, barely coherent even as my body patches together.

Rather than answer me directly, Ali flashes me the Skill information as a reminder from the Champion Class information we purchased.

The Will of the People (Erethran Champion Class Skill)

Drawing upon the trust and respect earned by a champion, the user unleashes a single devastating attack to remove all threats to the Empire.

Effect: Attack form and damage done dependent upon user and the amount of Reputation the champion has developed in Erethra. Each 10 points of Erethran reputation deals an additional point of damage.

Cost: 1000 Mana

I snort slightly and regret it immediately, the motion making my chest ache as broken ribs grate upon one another. A single attack my ass. Ayuri formed a million and one separate, spinning decahedrons of blades with the Skill, each of which honed in on me when fired. And a hundred reputation points seems like nothing until you realize the damn Erethran Empire is a multi-system, multi-planet juggernaut. Even a mild level of fame for a champion makes this attack ridiculous. If Ayuri hadn�t purposely held back the vast majority of her attack, I�d be dead, even with my damage reduction and Spell resistances. As it stood, the final attack had actually increased my Mana by an appreciable amount.

As the spells rumble through me, I have a sudden urge to cough. Twisting over my side, I hack and cough, pain ripping through my body at each motion, but eventually, the misplaced, shattered bones and mashed tissue comes out. I stare at the bloody mess, my nose wrinkling as my sense of smell comes back, bringing with it the harsh scent of melted concrete and roasted flesh. A Cleanse fixes some of dirt and smell even as a last spell lands on me, leaving the longer-term healing pulses and my own regeneration to finish the job.

�Damn. You just keep ticking, don�t you?� Ayuri says as she strides up to my prone form. �Were you trying to get me to use my ultimate Skill?�

�Pretty much.� I peel myself off the floor, stare at the tattered remnants of my clothing, and chuckle suddenly.

�What?�

�Just a funny cultural realization.� With a shrug, I tear off the remainder of the armored jumpsuit as it is doing nothing for my modesty and get dressed in something new. None of the Erethrans even blink. Then again, considering how uncovered I was before, they had more than enough time to get over their shock.

�What did you learn?� Unilo asks, her head cocked to the side as she watches me. After a moment, she brightens. �Oh! You are speaking about your embarrassment of being nude! We are too.�

�You are?� I look at the shreds of my clothing as I pull on my new jumpsuit.

�Yes. But only among those of the same species.� Unilo makes a face. �Who�d care about what other species wear? It�s not as if you�re biologically compatible.�

�Unless you�re Truinnar or Movana or Dwarven or boy-o��

�Not. Now.�

�Right,� I say out loud.

Unilo continues, oblivious. �It�d be like watching a cruppa and being��

�Cruppa?�

�Domestic animal.� An image flashes up in front of me, a six-limbed, furred on the top and scaled on the bottom creature who is about knee height with a barbed tail. �Erethran equivalent of a dog.�

I flush slightly, glaring at Unilo, who continues to blather on without noticing the look I shoot her.

�Embarrassed. Or worse, aroused. We actually don�t condone that kind of perversion on Erethra, though I know on some of the other planets� well, it�s a bit more uncivilized.�

�Unilo.� Ayuri�s single word cuts off Unilo�s ramblings.

Ayuri gestures for the exit, and as I�m now presentable, I�m happy to comply. We stay silent as we push past the crowd, my head cocked to the side as I read lips and listen to the whispered Erethran-filled conversations all around me.

�You sure he�s a Paladin? I hear they�re even worse than champions��

�Never saw anyone take more than a twentieth of the Will before. His damage reduction must be insane!�

�Well, he did have two-thirds of his health. His regeneration rates were ridiculous. And he kept on buying time with the Soul Shield.�

�You think the d�Quam are going to let him live?�

�He got her down a quarter health. Shit, I think I�m going to have to buy his profile from the Shop.�

�Krell�s nipples the Shop. I got a broker for that. Get you a real deal��

Ayuri stays silent until we enter a new building and enter what I presume to be her office. It amuses me how, even with a mostly paperless society, Ayuri has managed to clutter her office with junk. I see knickknacks everywhere, from snow globes, lava lamps, a bagpipe, and numerous magnets to other, less identifiable Galactic souvenirs. And trophies. Lots of monster part trophies. As Ayuri slumps in her chair and puts her feet up on the table, I gingerly move aside the half-shattered skull of a particularly large Goblin.

�Hob,� Ayuri says, as if it�s an explanation. �I was trying to make a cup out of his head and well��

�Cup?�

�Well, you humans have this interesting saying��

�Hyperbole. It�s hyperbole!� I say, waving.

�Oh. Huh. That�d explain it,� Ayuri says. �Well. You passed. Barely.�

I nod slightly, my eyes narrowing. She didn�t need to drag me all the way here to tell me all this. In fact, she didn�t even need to bring me to this town. Any relatively empty zone would have done just as well. Except, of course, her objective had never been to test my combat ability.

�We�re done. You should go eat. Unilo, get him some chow,� Ayuri says and gestures for me to get up.

I blink, staring at Ayuri then back at Unilo. Oh. Right. �Grub?"

�No, we do not eat insects, but we could find some for you,� Unilo says as she leads me out of the office toward what I assume to be the officers� mess.

It takes the rest of the walk to explain the misunderstanding. It takes another few minutes for me to find something to eat, and I�m not surprised when Unilo joins me. Or when Mayaya, who has been quietly shadowing us, drives away the few other patrons.

�The settlement vote,� I say after we have both dug into our food for a bit.

�It�s yours,� Unilo says, then cuts me off when I open my mouth to thank her. �On one condition.�

�Of course there�s a condition,� I say grumpily.

Ali, who�s hovering above Mayaya invisibly, rolls his eyes at me.

�It�s a simple one. Just a minor favor,� Unilo says.

�A favor.�

�A minor favor.�

�Some help here?� I ask Ali.

�Erethran nobles trade favors. Trivial, minor, major, blood, life, and family in order of importance. A minor favor is generally considered an action which does not significantly inconvenience or danger you. A single vote, an appropriately Leveled dungeon run.�

Unilo waits for me to answer, digging into the noodle-like substance before her with a weird utensil that adheres to the noodles with the barest touch. I bury my face in my food, barely tasting it even as my newly healed body craves the calories, while my thoughts spin. So. I�m paraded around, my Skills and Class shown off to a group of Erethran soldiers. Obviously the information about who and what I am is now public knowledge for the kingdom. And now, I�m being not so subtly forced to take a deal.

The problem with traps is that even if you recognize them, sometimes you have no choice but to spring them. Sometimes, the best way of dealing with a trap is to bull your way through it. And a trap that is known can sometimes be an opportunity.

�A minor favor. Only after a successful vote,� I say, laying down my own conditions.

�Sounds like an open-ended deal on your part,� Unilo says.

�Not entirely true. You�ll lose this settlement at some point, and I�ll lose my vote.�

Unilo�s lips twitch upward as she cocks her head. �Ah, couldn�t slip the time limit past you, could I? Well, okay. Deal then.�

I wait, and wait, and eventually frown.

�The food not to your liking?� Unilo asks as she finishes her dinner.

�There�s no System notification,� I say, frowning.

�For our deal? It�s not System-registered, no.�

�What�s to stop me from welching?�

Unilo�s eyes glaze over for a moment before she flashes me a smile. �Welching. What a nice word. And if I cannot trust a Paladin to keep his word, well, the Empire is in grave danger.�

For a moment, I sit there, somewhat disoriented by the statement. Is she assuming my Class forbids me from breaking deals? Or is there something in my Class that stops me from welching? Are there Classes like that? Or is this a cultural artifact? A belief that anyone who is a Paladin can�t break a deal? Or a deeper understanding of me?

I shush the inquisitive, almost panicky thoughts while another corner of my mind points out that I might need some rest. Getting beaten to a pulp can�t be healthy, no matter how many resistances I have.

�Fair enough,� I say with a sigh then look at Mayaya. �Mind giving me a ride home?�

Mayaya doesn�t answer directly, but the next thing I know, I�m falling through a Portal that opens up right beneath my feet, taking me and my chair with it.

Right. Don�t ask him for a favor again.

Chapter 10

After I recover from being so ignobly deposited back in Vancouver�and return the chair, hopefully directly on Mayaya�I spend the next few hours sleeping. Between the constant rush of the past couple of days, I�ve barely had time to catch my breath and it has been over twenty-four hours since I had time to rest. While my higher Constitution allows me to function quite, quite well with no sleep for days on end in normal conditions, normal is not what I�d call my last day. And so, by the time I get up, it�s nearly three in the afternoon.

Over the next few days, I spend my time studying. First, there�s the delayed meeting with Ali and Kim to receive their findings and research. While it�s significantly more detailed than what Roxley provided, the gist of it is familiar. It does, however, provide a few settlements we could target for objectionable actions if I�m so inclined. Sadly, just taking over the City Cores is insufficient. I need people to guard the core and make the settlement actually work. As experience has shown, leaving a City Core unguarded has a bad tendency to create city-wide System-created dungeons if given enough time.

Afterwards, I�ve got Lana and Katherine in large chunks, bothering me with questions and details about the settlement. I suffer through those discussions as best as I can, mostly because they at least provide me some context to the world. We tackle numerous issues, ranging from zoning and building applications to judicial rulings, all of which require more than knee-jerk decisions. It�s frightening how much power I have as a settlement owner, a minor feudal lord who rules by right of might. And so, I spend my time studying and learning, doing my best while I wait.

Because the next big step is talking with the champions, but due to their busy schedules, I�ve been forced to cool my heels for a few days till their �regular� meeting.

Their meeting time finally arrives, and I find myself porting with Mikito to Hong Kong, appearing on top of the Bank of China tower to survey the city. A quick glance at the notifications informs me the settlement has managed to develop into a full City, a remarkable achievement in the short timeframe. Especially considering only seven percent of their population survived. High population density and a high Mana density combined to create an explosive growth of monsters that trimmed their numbers in the first year. Even from my view, I can see the gaps where entire neighborhoods were razed, their buildings shattered by titanic monstrosities and the battles to subdue them.

�Welcome, Mr. Lee,� a voice calls to me in Cantonese, and I turn to meet the gaze of a tiny old man.

Grandmaster Chang Jing Yi, the Iron Gate of Hong Kong, Seventh Dragon of South China (Kung Fu Master Level 2)

HP: 4310/4310

MP: 1080/1080

Conditions: Iron Shirt, Iron Bones, Heaven-and-Earth connection

�Tai Tsifu Chang,� I greet the man in Cantonese while bowing slightly. �If you don�t mind, I don�t believe Mikito understands Cantonese?�

�Baka. Of course I do. I visit here often enough,� Mikito says, speaking up before Grandmaster Chang can say anything. �But you didn�t need to meet us yourself.�

�I wanted to meet the famous Redeemer of the Dead,� Grandmaster Chang says. �His recent exploits have been quite eye-catching.�

While Mikito and the Grandmaster speak, I bug Ali for an explanation. Especially for the place-specific titles.

�They�re reputation- and achievement-based titles. Available only if you manage to gain both the achievements and the reputation. Similar to Capstan�s First Fist. As for his Heaven-and-Earth connection, it�s a flowery translation for a unique awareness Skill.�

�You do me too much honor,� I say to Grandmaster Chang in response to his earlier comment. Huh. I wonder if that�s the right word�would face be better? Mien is more commonly used. But it�s not exactly the same. This is why I hate talking to old school or China Chinese. Being a damn banana, I�m always second-guessing myself. At least my higher Intelligence seems to have increased my versatility with the language. �My achievements are small compared to yours. I didn�t kill a water dragon with my bare hands in the early years.�

�It was a small one and I had help. A lot of it,� Grandmaster Chang says with a smile and gestures for us to follow him toward the fire exit.

�Still, I�d love to hear about it,� I say.

With a little more prompting, I manage to extract the story of the Grandmaster�s fight with the water dragon that had preyed on Hong Kong during the early part of the apocalypse. It�s quite a thrilling tale, and one that keeps me riveted until we reach the meeting room. At the door, the Grandmaster leaves us with a bow.

�How come he�s not part of the group? He�s got the Levels,� I say, gesturing to the Master Class Grandmaster�s retreating back.

�Not everyone who has the Levels is accepted. Or desires to tramp around the globe,� Jessica says as she fades into being right next to us.

Mikito starts slightly, a hand flexing as she begins and dismisses calling her weapon. As for myself, I smile at Jessica. It�s not as if my new Class Skill hadn�t helped me pick her out of the shadows a while ago.

�I thought you were a grouping of the most powerful on Earth?� I say with a frown.

�Not exactly,� Mikito says. �We�re the ones willing to join and have been accepted. A lot of settlement owners and others who might have the strength�like Grandmaster Chang�aren�t interested. Or available. Not all settlement owners are as hands-off as you are.�

�Ah. So you�re what? The spearhead? Or the figurehead?� I say.

Jessica laughs at my description, pearly white teeth flashing across dark skin before fading. �Yes. Come on, we�re the last.�

She pushes the two of us in, a hand on each of our backs. I follow the urgings of the Southern girl, glancing around to see that she is correct�everyone I know is here. And two others I�ve yet to meet.

�Bipasha, Graham, John Lee,� Jessica introduces the two newcomers for me while Mikito stays silent, eyeing the room. �Bipasha�s a Weaver and focuses on healing and restricting attacks during combat. She�s also the driving force behind BP Fabrics, one of the largest-growing clothing corporations on Earth.�

�If you ever want a custom-designed costume, do let me know,� Bipasha says, flashing me a smile.

Her long black hair, a slightly prominent nose on top of a large, inviting smile, and gorgeous brown eyes have me stopping for a second, reminding me that it�s been years since� well. Since. That she�s dressed in a stylish pink-and-cream Indian-inspired variation of the armored jumpsuit is a good reminder that not everything has to look the same. I�m suddenly not surprised that she�s managed to garner such a following�a successful businesswoman intelligent enough to use her non-Combat Class Skills to undertake missions at this Level and with enough Charisma to bowl over a blind man.

�Oy! And what am I? Chopped liver?� Graham Speight, the Level 40 Prop with the New Zealander accent, protests. The mid-thirties man is built like a brick shithouse with arms as big as my thighs and a glower that would intimidate a lesser man.

�Well, you are just a prop,� Jamal says, and groans explode from everyone.

Jessica winks at Jamal. �That never gets old.�

�It really does.� Graham complains, glaring at Jamal, who smirks.

�Anyone mind explaining the joke to me?� I ask.

�Rug�� Graham begins and is cut off by Hugo.

�What is he doing here? We haven�t voted him in,� Hugo asks, arms crossed as he glares at me.

�I would like to know too,� Shao says, fixing me with a considering look.

�Don�t worry, not here to join your little club. I actually invited myself along because I need to speak with Ms. Chowdury,� I say, nodding to the young lady who flashes me a smile.

�You want to talk about the Planetary Vote,� Jamal says, an aggrieved tone filling his voice. When I raise an eyebrow at him, he snorts. �What, you think we all don�t get hit up on that topic? Most of us own a settlement or two. And those who don�t, know most of those who do in our countries.�

�Or continents,� Shao says, crossing her arms.

�Oh good. That means you�ll be useful to getting the vote passed.� When I make that statement, I watch for the champions� reactions, trying to judge who is open to the idea and who isn�t. Unsurprisingly, Jamal looks pained, Rae is an unreadable hunk of metal, and Jessica and Shao look slightly interested. As for Bipasha, she�s unreadable but charming.

�As if we haven�t tried that,� Hugo says with a snort. �But you need eighty percent of the vote, and that�s an impossible number if you don�t own the entire planet. Hell, we don�t even own fifty percent of Earth. It�s bullshit politics.�

�You�re right,� I say, my admission taking the wind out of Hugo�s sail for the moment. �But it doesn�t mean I�m not going to try.�

�Waste of time,� Hugo says with a huff. �You can talk to Bi once we�re done. But we�ve got real work to do here.�

�Of course,� I say and step out of the door.

With the initial bait thrown, I�m sure Bipasha will find me next. And if I�m not wrong, Shao and Jessica will at a later date. As for Jamal, the man I need to speak with to get in contact with Ikael, well, I�ll just have to track him down later.

When Bipasha finally finds me, I can�t help but sigh in gratitude. After leaving the conference room, I�d meant to take a look around the newly remodeled Hong Kong and perhaps even visit their City Dungeon. Instead, I was intercepted by Grandmaster Chang and �invited� to have tea with him and his friends. For the last couple of hours, we�ve been seated in their favorite tea shop, drinking tea, eating fried donuts and steamed buns, and swapping war stories. Or in my case, listening to war stories.

�Bipasha!� I wave to the young politician urgently while standing and bowing to the group. �Thank you so much for your time. But I should speak with my friend.�

�Of course. See you again.�

The group of seniors sends me on my way, though not before I make sure to pay the bill. There�s an intrinsic terror involved in dealing with the elderly, especially if you�ve been brought up, like me, to respect them. It�d be too impolite to interrupt them, and so you get stuck in a never-ending series of stories.

�Mr. Lee.� Bipasha looks around the restaurant at the jade-inlaid faux windows and the wooden chairs, a lip quirking slightly as she spots the mostly elderly customers. �I did not expect to find you in such a place.�

�I was invited,� I say, taking hold of her elbow and guiding her down the stairs. �Let�s walk and talk, shall we?�

�Of course,� Bipasha says.

Outside, I feel some of the tension disappear from my shoulders. �Is Mikito�?�

�Off on another delve. There�s a dungeon on the outskirts of Monaco that is threatening to spill over. The settlement owners haven�t been able to clear it and offered the team a Quest to deal with it for them,� Bipasha says.

�Ah� I hope I�m not keeping you from that then,� I say.

�No. My Skills would be of little use. It�s an aquatic dungeon,� Bipasha says as if it explains everything.

I just nod, deciding to pursue questioning about her Skills later. We walk through downtown Hong Kong, the streets achingly empty for a once overcrowded city.

�That�s good,� I say, then gesture for us to head toward the coastline. I�m curious to see the fishing industry I�ve heard much about. �So you�re attempting to have yourself voted as our representative.�

�Yes,� Bipasha says. �And you?�

�Not my style.�

�Kingmaker, are we?� Bipasha asks as we cross over to the nearby railing overlooking the harbor. We stare at the waters lapping against the ground, the occasional bobbing jellyfish monster that floats along the shores, and the numerous small boats that work the harbor and the monsters for parts.

�No. Yes.� I shrug in resignation when I decide to just go with it. �We need to get on the Council. How we do so�� I frown, shaking my head. �Well, I won�t say it doesn�t matter, because even I�m not that na�ve. But I�m willing to concede a lot to get it done.�

�And why is it so important to you?� Bipasha asks, her eyes narrowing at me.

�Self-interest.� I look around us. �Every planet, every species, that lacks a seat on the Council are second-class citizens. They have no say in the politics, in the direction of the Council. They barely even get notifications.�

�Sounds like governments everywhere,� Bipasha says, playing devil�s advocate.

�Maybe. But once we have the seat, Earth also gains access to the Planetary System, allowing us to tax everything that happens on Earth. We can levy duties on specific industries. We can set up visitor fees and even channel the growth of settlements and dungeons.� Channel is, of course, the right word, since doing so is akin to building rocks in a river�the water still flows, but at least you might divert a little bit of it here and there. �But why am I telling you this? You obviously know it all.�

�I do,� Bipasha says. �But it�s always good to understand the motivations of your allies.�

�And are we? Allies that is,� I ask, tilting my head to the woman.

�Perhaps. You haven�t decided to support me yet,� Bipasha says.

�I don�t even know you,� I say with a slight smile.

�And you haven�t met the others either,� Bipasha says. �But you should know, Shao has managed to convince the Chinese to back me.�

I blink, doing some mental math. That�d put her at nearly the same number of votes as Ikael. �Interesting. How�d you manage that?�

Bipasha smiles then. �It�s contingent on there being an actual vote that matters, but Shao didn�t want it. Their golden boy was never going to get the vote, not after he ran in Beijing. And no one wants the Americans to have it.�

�No one?� I say, cocking my head to the side.

�Ah�� Bipasha pauses, as if she�s suddenly remembering that I�m from Canada. Yet a part of me doubts that a consummate politician like her would make such a mistake. No, she wanted me to know that. Wanted me to understand the antipathy she and the Chinese and probably a bunch of others have against the Americans.

�Why?�

�Did you ever wonder what happened to the Galactic Envoy?�

�I think I�m about to find out,� I say. A part of me is already guessing Area 51. It would make sense�

�The Envoy teleported into the middle of small-town Kentucky. And then the farmer who came out shot the Envoy. And since the Envoy didn�t look remotely human, he skewered it, hung it up, and took photos,� Bipasha continues. �You can see the photos in a few tabloids. The first real sign of alien life, and some backcountry hick shoots it, strings it up, and takes photos before gutting the corpse and selling the parts for money.�

�Well, I�m sure it wouldn�t have worked out any better in most places,� I say, protesting the rather rude characterization. Frankly, why the heck would it teleport to Kentucky?

�Teleportation was meant for New York�the UN building. Someone interfered with it.�

�How do you know?�

�What do you think I do when you�re playing kissy-face with Roxley?�

�I�m not�� I send a mental growl while Ali sends a chuckle.

�Maybe. But they�re the ones who brought this hell on us,� Bipasha says. �And many are tired anyway, of the Americans lording it over us all. Almost anyone would be better.�

�Almost?�

�Well, Ikael isn�t much better.�

�Seems like he�s got a lot of support,� I point out, recalling the large number of votes he�d managed to engender. Well above her own.

�Bought and paid for, all of it,� Bipasha scoffs.

�And you�re above that?�

�No. But what he�s promised is destructive. Corruption at that level is impossible to sustain.�

I blink, staring at the Weaver, piecing together her meaning and the underlying beliefs. Then again, she is Bangladeshi�the level of corruption she�s probably run into over her life is significantly more than I have. Which, probably, means she�d be open to bribes and allowing corruption in her own government. But� well, if it works, who am I to complain. Once more, I find myself weighing my own morality against the pragmatism required to keep the damn world running and find that I just care enough. Not over something like this.

�Well, good to know,� I say for something to say.

�For now, understand that I�m willing to work with you. With your settlements and your prestige, along with mine and the influence of Mikito and other champions, I believe we can sway a large number of the undecided,� Bipasha says with a smile. �The benefits could be significant. For all of us.�

Bipasha lays a hand on my arm�briefly, but I can feel the lingering heat, the sensation that manages to take away my breath.

Mental Influence Resisted

Right. But like with Roxley, I�m not entirely sure if it�s a by-product of her high Charisma or something more focused.

�I�ll let you know, after my other meetings,� I say eventually.

Bipasha offers me a nod and waves goodbye, pulling away and leaving me standing there on the dock, overlooking the bay and the numerous fishing boats. As I stare, I spot one particular fisherman tug on a glowing blue rod, his boat rocking dangerously as he struggles against a monstrous fish, the pair of them battling for dominance. An empathic flash rushes through me uncharacteristically. But for a moment, I�m not entirely sure if I�m the fish or the fisherman.

Chapter 11

�Mr. Lee, a pleasure.� The man who offers me his hand looks no older than I am, somewhere in his mid-thirties, with few lines and close-cut, light brown hair. But there�s a look to his eyes that speaks of having lived for much longer than a mere thirty years. It�s no surprise. The ex-Secretary of Agriculture had been old before all this happened. If not for luck and the work of his security detail, he would have never survived the first month.

�Mr. Markey,� I say, shaking his hand.

Behind him, one of his aides twitches, his lips tightening.

�Rob. For someone who has done as much as you have, Rob will do,� Rob says, and I nod. Ex-Secretary turned acting President, now duly elected President. It�s an impressive rise, if you don�t consider the number of deaths that it required.

�I�m surprised you recreated this room,� I say, glancing around. Not that I�ve ever been in the actual building, but I�ve seen enough movies to figure that this recreation of the Oval Office looks pretty close. Up to and including the large rug.

�It was recommended,� Rob says with a self-deprecating smile. �It helps with the public and reassures them that we�re continuing to hold to our ideals. Even if the actual building is a dungeon.�

�Level 120 I understand?� I say, rubbing my chin. It�d be fun to try to run the dungeon, though I�m sure certain historic resonances might occur if a Canadian ran amok with sword and flame.

�Level 120 Elite dungeon, yes,� Rob says. �The champions tried clearing it once, when it was only 100. They managed to make it a quarter of the way in before the rose bushes got them.�

�Rose bushes?� I say.

�You should ask Ms. Sato. It�s quite the story,� Rob says. �But you didn�t come here to speak to me about that.�

�No.� I cock my head to the side, surprised he already wants to get down to the brass tacks.

�I was never much of a politician. The posting was, well, horse trading and a goodbye gift. I�ve always preferred to be blunt,� Rob says with a slight downward gesture of his hand, as if pressing down or cutting something beneath his body. �And General Miller has indicated you are quite blunt yourself.�

�Blunt.� I shoot the general a look where he sits with new stars on his shoulder epaulets. Five stars. Pretty sure that�s as high as you can get. Not that I begrudge the soldier his accomplishments. I note that another thin, dignified African American man is here, listening to our conversations. The Secretary of State, as Ali has informed me. �That�s one way to describe it.�

�So. The Planetary Vote,� Rob says. �You want to know if I intend to run, and if not, if you can convince me to influence those under me to vote for someone else.�

�Pretty much,� I say.

�The simple answers are yes and maybe,� Rob replies. �I feel, we feel, that the seat should be held by me. But as it stands, we do not have the votes. Ikael and Bipasha have managed to engender significant global opposition to us. And the difficulties even if we did manage to achieve human majority is significant.�

�The Envoy,� I state flatly. �Is it true?�

�Of course,� Rob says with a wry half-smile. �What use is it lying about something so simple? Especially when the truth is so effective. But I fear many of the policies of my predecessors alienated many others before that.�

I grunt, shaking my head. Nope. Not touching geo-political history with a ten-foot pole. Still, I�m glad that my intuition�augmented with Eye of Insight�was correct about the Envoy. I�m still getting a feel for using that new Skill, since the Skill only removes other Skill effects and not �normal� lying. Of course, my own intuition and ability to sense when others are lying are significant after all this time, especially with my Subterfuge Perk.

�You said maybe?�

�Yes, my apologies. I sometimes get distracted,� Rob says again, flashing me that good old boy charm. I don�t even need the notification to tell me he�s Charisma stacked, or that he�s using it�consciously or not�against me. I�m even willing to admit that some of that charm might just be intrinsic to the Maine politician. �As you know, my position is precarious. We are still attempting to gain the agreement of other breakaway cities and states to rejoin us. Many of the settlements that have joined us would be loath to vote for a non-American.�

�But you can force them,� I state.

�It is within the amended Constitution to give me that power. But it is not something I would use lightly.�

I sigh, bracing myself mentally. In other words, and as much as he might protest not being a politician, he�s looking for the right trade. I can feel a small headache coming along, one that grows as we get down to discussing the details. It�s only now, when we�ve gotten past the initial pleasantries and into the horse trading, that the new Secretary of State gets involved.

Hours later, Miller and I end up walking out of the room together, the president left to do his own thing. The walk is silent at first, the pair of us making our way past the numerous guards and bureaucrats that make up the nation�s bureaucracy.

�Thank you for getting me in,� I say to Miller after a time.

�No need. I just greased the wheels. It was your actions and reputation that did most of the work,� Miller says.

�I somehow doubt that,� I say with a snort and a smile. �How�s Wier?�

�Well enough,� Miller says. �He�s in LA right now, dealing with the border. The dungeon along the border�the Wall�keeps growing. We constantly have to blast it apart, but so far, we�ve yet to find its center.�

I grunt, shaking my head. Sometimes I get the feeling that the System has a sense of humor. Or perhaps a sense of irony. Of course, the scientific reasoning was that the System was using a resonant concept to create dungeons, forming them based off ideas, concepts, and ecological niches. Thus the living libraries with their flying attack books or the giant border wall that keeps growing.

�Glad he�s doing okay,� I say.

�He�s a good man.� Miller�s lip twitches slightly as he spots my hesitation. �And the president is doing the best job he can. But he was underplaying how tough things are. He�s spending as much time talking to those within the union as those who aren�t, all to keep us together and out of a civil war.�

I nod slowly, grimacing. �Anything I can do to help?�

Miller chuckles. �No. In fact, it�s best if you stay out of it entirely. Having a Canadian come in and save our asses�well, it hurt more than a few egos.�

�Okay,� I say, clapping Miller on the shoulder. �But if you need me to send down some polar bears and maple syrup, just let me know.�

Miller rolls his eyes, stopping at the entrance hallway. �I will. And John, be careful about the kind of deals you make. Ikael� he worries me.�

I offer one last nod as we reach the designated teleportation zone where the quantum locks around the settlement ease. As I look back after casting my Skill, I see Miller frowning and lost in thought already.

In my office, I flop down in my chair and put my feet on the desk, grateful that Katherine has given me back my old office. She�s moved to the office next door, leaving me alone to stare at the wood-paneled interior.

�What do you think, Ali?�

The Spirit lets himself appear, floating backward at a forty-five degree angle. He�s still in his traditional orange jumpsuit, though he can conjure almost anything else. But really, jumpsuit, mankini, or plate armor, it all shares the same defense rating for the Spirit, so it�s just a matter of convenience and looks. �About what?�

�The meeting. You think he�d be someone worth backing?�

�Doesn�t matter what I think. Can you get others to back him?� Ali says with a snort. �Or can you get the others who back Rob to back someone else? Way the votes played out, he got most of your first world countries to vote for him, at least those who were voting for anyone not themselves.�

I grimace, nodding. Ikael drew his support from around the African, Middle Eastern, and South American settlements, as well as a wide range of single-city settlements. Bipasha basically had southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent. Outside of China and Siberia, which had mostly done their own thing. Most of Russia and eastern Europe had split their votes between themselves and Ikael, while Australia had lost so many of their settlements that they weren�t even worth talking about.

�Eh, you humans are strange. Still clinging to your old concepts of countries and nations, to old grudges,� Ali says with a shrug. �The vast majority of the people who had any say over things before are dead. But you�re all still complaining about Western domination and oppression, about shaking off colonial ties. As if you aren�t being colonized by Galactics right this second.�

I chuckle, mostly because if I don�t laugh at it, I�d have to cry. The Spirit isn�t wrong. But I can see everyone else�s concerns. It�s not as if the States and the other western powers hadn�t used a very heavy hand for a very long time to keep other countries in check. It was only in the last few decades that the other countries were pulling themselves together.

Now, in many ways, the sheer population numbers and an arguably better ability to cope with the change has led to a higher number of surviving settlements and an overall stronger position in non-Western countries. Few people are willing to give up the power they�ve earned, especially a position of power earned over the corpses of friends and family.

Whereas the Galactics have it easier. For many, they understand the need to work together, to ally with existing factions. And many of those factions are already culturally set, already guaranteed. Through race or creed, the settlement owners who have come to Earth often have a game plan. We�re so busy fighting everyone, we�re slowly losing, no matter how hard the champions fight.

The scary thing? I can see it all, read it all, in the histories of other species.

�Fine. We�re idiots,� I say, echoing my thoughts out loud. �But they�re my idiots.�

Ali nods and I rip open a Portal, stepping through to move to the Shop.

Locating Cheng Shao took but a single expensive trip to the Shop. Teleporting to her took even more money, especially considering I had to port in to where the woman was grinding a hundred miles west of Hainan. It kind of amused me that no matter where you went, if it was up high, the zones were higher. You�d think that Mana would pool lower down, but nope. It was the mountains and deep caverns, the extremes, that generated the differences in zones. Outside of certain notable plains and deserts.

�Mr. Lee.� Cheng Shao stares at me as I walk up to her.

I opted to teleport a kilometer away so that I could make the rest of the journey on foot. I figured that�d give her more than enough time to notice me, compared to appearing right next to her. Certainly, it�s a somewhat less hostile maneuver.

�Why are you stalking me?�

Okay, maybe not.

�I wanted to speak with you. I come in peace,� I say, holding up my hands while giving her a hopefully disarming grin.

Unfortunately, Cheng Shao doesn�t return my smile at all. �I am training.� She turns away. �Perhaps another time.�

�Look, it�s about the Planetary Vote��

�Training.�

�Ms. Cheng.� I pause then growl. �I just need to know if Bipasha�s telling the truth. Will the Chinese settlement owners support her?�

�I do not comment on the Party�s decisions,� Cheng Shao states flatly while speeding up.

I hiss in frustration as the woman throws up a wall in front of me when I attempt to follow. I could break it or Blink Step through it. But I can�t actually make her talk to me, so I stand there, glaring at the metallic silver wall.

�What Party is she talking about?�

�Do you never read anything we give you? The Communist Party of China. The same one that was around before your System. One of their leaders managed to get the Mandarin Class. Utterly useless for direct combat, but it has a wide range of buffs for everyone below him. Between that and having a few bodyguards with good Combat Classes, they managed to hold things together in Beijing and expand from there. It�s not really a Communist Party anymore, but like the Americans, they�re keeping the same name. For now.�

�And doing the same old terror campaign shit, eh?� I say softly, looking at where Cheng Shao has disappeared over the ridge.

I consider blinking over to her, but Ali flashes some of the dots on my minimap. Of course she�s being watched. She might be able to get away with certain things because of her strength, but personal strength means little if you�ve got friends and families to worry about.

�Damn it. Now what do I do?� I need confirmation of what Bipasha has said, but I don�t actually have any contacts in the bureaucracy.

�If you�re thinking of walking in and demanding an audience, that might not work out that well.�

�Was not.�

�Uh-huh. I think this is a Katherine problem.�

I roll my eyes slightly but have to agree. The woman probably is the best option to get confirmation. Between being a banana and a North American, I�d probably be looked down upon even more than Katherine.

�I hate wasting my Credits.� I let the wind take my words before I open a Portal to the nearest city to tackle the next damn human idiot.

Of course, meeting Ikael isn�t as easy as Portaling into his office and demanding a meeting. For one thing, I don�t even know where he is. For another, I have no waypoints in Ethiopia. Which is why I find myself bouncing from long-range teleportation portal to long-range teleportation portal till I finally end up being pulled apart molecule by molecule and reformed in Addis Abba.

�Off the platform,� the guard orders me immediately.

I follow his orders without complaint, craning my head back to take in the view. I�m surprised to note more than a few guards hovering in the sky, guns pointed down at the rectangular teleportation platform, flanked by even larger beam cannons. In fact, I spot more than fifty guards on the ground, each of them armed with at least Tier II beam weaponry. I absently note the increased ambient temperature and the higher humidity, but neither is a major concern. They�ve set up the teleportation platform in what looks to be an old football stadium, though the grass is rather trampled and worn from all the traffic. All around us, hovering trucks and cranes pick up and deposit teleported goods with crisp efficiency while labourers sort goods like chipmunks on speed.

�Are you deaf?� the first guard snarls at me, bringing my attention back to him. �Newcomers are to report to an intake officer immediately.�

�Sorry.� I move to the area as directed by the first guard.

Thankfully, the line isn�t long, so it only takes me a short while to find myself in front of one of their intake officers. Standing in front of the new guard, I notice one of his eyes gleams with internal light. The slightest tracing of metal around the iris indicates this might not have been the eye he was born with.

Dark skin slightly flushed against the pale brown army uniform, he puffs up before he speaks. �Reason for visiting Tafar?�

�Tafar?� I frown.

�You�re in the Republic of Tafar,� the guard snaps, eyes narrowing. �Do you not read your notifications?�

�Haven�t had the time,� I mutter. I call back the notification, watching as other newcomers stroll right past the intake area. Either my tardiness drew the ire and attention of the guard or they�ve got a way to tell who is a newcomer or not.

You have entered a Safe Zone (the City of Addis Abba)

Mana flows in this area are stabilized. No monster spawning will occur in this region. Runic enchantments have increased skill growth by 1% in safe zone.

This Safe Zone includes:

City of Addis Abba City Center

Shop

City Dungeon

Guilds (Tier III * 4, Tier IV * 2, Tier V * 14)

Armory

More�

You are now in the Republic of Tafar

Current reputation with the republic: 04 (0 local + 0 regional + 4 global)

Current fame: 222 (0 local +11 regional + 211 global)

Do you wish to review the local laws & ordinances? (Y/N)

�What is the difference between fame and reputation?� I send the thought to Ali. I haven�t dug into that entire area, which I really do need to.

�Well, make time,� the guard snarls. �Now, reason for visiting?�

�I�m looking to speak with Jamal. Or better, Ikael,� I say, deciding to not beat around the bush.

Instead of angering the guard, my words make him burst into laughter, which is joined by his friends when he repeats my words to them.

I sigh, waiting for the group to fall silent. �My name�s John Lee.�

In the background, Ali answers my question. �They�re Galactic measurements. Reputation indicates their favorability toward you, mostly affected by the Contracts and interactions you have with an individual or corporations. Fame is an indicator of how well-known you are. They�re like your skills�reported numbers on factual data. A stock ticker for your reputation and fame rather than something that directly affects reality. Put another way�what you do makes it go up, versus your Skills which go up and then change the way the world works. Not that you have any Skills that make use of either of these figures.�

�That supposed to mean something?� the guard says with a snort.

�Looks like it does to some people.� I nod over the guard�s shoulder.

The guard turns and sees his boss waving him away from me even while muttering orders to another of his subordinates.

�Report this to Kofi immediately,� I lip-read the officer�s order before he strides forward and takes the blowhard guard�s place. He flashes me a smile, his pearly white teeth a stark contrast to his almost obsidian skin. �I am Lieutenant Amadi Worku. I have informed my superiors about your arrival. Would you like to wait in some place more appropriate?�

I nod, and the close-lipped lieutenant takes me to a small waiting room, making sure I have cold tea and snacks to nibble on while I wait.

I take the time to bug Ali. �And my numbers?�

�You�ve entered a few Contracts or facilitated the signing of a few. In addition, as you�re a ruler, you automatically get reputation points for, well, governing effectively. Local reputation adds up to give the number on your sheet, but local reputation is significantly decreased when taken out of its geographic bounds. Basically, it�s less effective away from where you generated the reputation. In addition, the change in reputation is dependent on the respective fame and reputation of the individual or organization you conduct deals with. Since you�re outside North America, your local reputation translates down to that four. As for your fame, do I need to explain that?�

�No. Is there Galactic reputation then? Or Solar System level?�

�Yes, but they�re pretty much zeroed out. Earth isn�t connected enough on a planetary scale that Galactic reputation has started crossing over significantly. Or that your Galactic reputation would affect matters locally,� Ali says.

I grunt, poking at the Fame and Reputation bars and, after a while, find where it�s located in my sheet. I barely glance at it these days, especially things like the giant list of skills that are mostly hidden, so I�m not surprised to find that I haven�t even noticed the new tab for the two statistics. There�s no real surprise in any of the information, so I shut the entire thing down. Though I do have one question.

�Why was it locked till I left and came back?�

�No useable Skill, remember? Also, it�s a Galactic achievement thing for those who don�t have a use for it. No point in making it available for the hicks who never leave their neighborhood, you know? Or the ones who don�t survive their first trip to another world,� Ali says. �If you aren�t smart enough to survive a pleasure cruise, you aren�t worth wasting the Mana on.�

�Pleasure cruise?�

�Eh, most Galactics don�t visit a Forbidden Planet for their first inter-planetary trip. As usual, you�re all kinds of special.�

I can�t help but chuckle at the teasing tone in Ali�s mental voice. To pass the time, I pick up one of the snacks, taking a bite of it, and wince before placing the dessert back down. Right. They�re trying to kill me with sugar. On second thought, I wave my hand and deposit the entire thing in my Altered Storage. Maybe Lana�

My brain hitches and I pause, my hand over the now-empty plate. Right. Katherine. Katherine might like this.

�Would Katherine have access to a Skill which could see the Reputation and Fame of others?� I send to Ali to distract myself.

�Definitely. Be hard to be a good gatekeeper if you can�t tell who�s reputable or not, no?� Ali replies. �I�d bet her new Class gives her other Skills too. Probably an upgraded Contract Skill which allows her to use her higher Reputation to enforce the contract. I could dig into it��

�No. That�s good.� I was just looking for a distraction. No reason to spend good Credits when I can just ask her.

I settle down in my chair and slow my breathing, taking the small break to meditate.

Breathe in. Take the tension, the stress which is flowing through my body, and wrap it up.

Breathe out. Let the world and the stress fall away.

Repeat. Ad infinitum.

Chapter 12

It takes hours before they finally let me out of the luxurious cell they have me waiting in, long hours that I spend meditating and letting the information I�ve been gathering settle. I�ve gained a lot of data recently, and while my increased Intelligence has let me gather the information and even process it to some extent, it�s something else to grasp it on an intuitive level. Sometimes, letting things settle and allowing your unconscious mind to do the thinking is the best option.

When the door opens, they find me awake and refreshed. There�s a whole guard troop here, but nothing in their body language�no overt tension, no angling of bodies to give me a smaller target�indicates what I�m seeing is anything more than an honor guard. Within minutes, we�re in an armored and luxurious hover car and being flown over to Ikael.

They show me into his office, an ornate thing with gold d�cor, gold trimmings, and yes, even a gold lamp. If not for the expensive wooden table and the green plush chair�outlined in gold�the entire place would have been truly too overbearing. As it is, it�s just painful to look at.

Seated in the chair till I enter, Ikael can only be described as solid. Dressed in a white-and-grey checkered silk shirt, he has numerous chunky gold rings on his fingers and a shaved head. Ikael�s welcoming smile does nothing to hide the predatory look in his eyes.

Ikael Tafar (Level 41 Aksumite Leader)

HP: 1380/1380

MP: 2170/2170

Conditions: Aura of Command, Coin of the Empire

�Aksumite?�

�Can�t offer you much. It�s a semi-unique, culture-based Class. Closest I�ve got is like a Celtic Warrior or Roman Counsel, something the System registered a while ago and he somehow decided to choose. Base Skills are definitely more combat-oriented. His Advanced Class here is more kingdom-driven. Coin of the Empire, for example, gives a minor boost to tax collected in his settlements. It literally generates Credits from the System.�

Mental Influence Resisted

I grunt, my eye twitching slightly as his Aura clashes with my own mental resistance. I�m surprised at how strong it is. The man must have put quite a few points into it. I feel it push against my mental boundaries. Push�but not win.

Sometimes I wonder about those who use Auras all the time. The more and more people I encounter with the Skill, the more I�m forced to wonder about their effects. Not just on those around them in the short term, but on the long-term effects on interactions. After all, constantly warping the minds of those around you can�t be healthy. Earth has a long history of emperors and celebrities changing by being constantly surrounded by yes men. How much worse would it be when even the most ordinary interaction is infected by a Skill like this? And yet, so many decide to leave it on.

Once the initial introductions are done, I take the seat I�m offered. �Thank you for seeing me.�

�I�m happy to speak with other settlement owners, especially one who has access to a number of high Level zones,� Ikael says, smiling widely. �The wild flame pine sap your settlement produces is quite a useful herb.�

The name sounds familiar, but nothing comes to mind. �Ali?�

�Kelowna�s third most valuable export. Useful for basic and medium fire resistance potions.�

�Well, I�m sure we can discuss an increase in trade between our settlements.� I pause as I get ready to switch topics.

�Oh, how forgetful of me. I had a gift for your visit,� Ikael says in the gap I left. He drops a small ivory-inlaid box in front of me.

I smile slightly at the box, a memory of Mikito mentioning that elephants are no longer on the endangered species list surfacing briefly. It seems those gentle giants are no longer gentle. In fact, there are numerous zones where the Alphas are mutated elephants.

Perhaps mistaking my smile, Ikael�s lips twitch slightly as he pushes the box to me. I take it, curiosity warring with mild disgust at the bribe. Still, I�m involuntarily impressed by what I see within.

Ring of Greater Shielding

Creates a greater shield that will absorb approximately 1000 points of damage. This shield will ignore all damage that does not exceed its threshold amount of 50 points of damage while still functioning.

Max Duration: 7 Minutes

Charges: 1

I stare at the small box and the ring within, picking it up and turning it over. The ring itself is made of bone, a curious, almost brittle-looking bone that refuses to bend even under significant pressure. All around it are small glyphs, letters, and drawings I cannot understand. A mental prod makes Ali drag further information about the ring from the System, and my initial guess pans out. This is an Earth creation.

�This is a very generous gift. And an amazing piece of work,� I say. �The Artisan is highly Skilled.�

Ikael beams while gushing, �He just managed to reach the third Tier of his Advanced Class. It�s taken a lot of resources, but Marcus can produce work like this once a week now.�

I�m not much of a crafter, but my talks with Lana and others have indicated this would be a brutal workload. Creating enchanted works is difficult, prone to failure, and requires a high Level of Mana. Each inscription, each enchantment requires more than a hundred times the amount of Mana to cast a similar spell or Skill. At the very least. Layering multiple enchantments or more powerful Skills adds to the cost in ever increasing amounts.

�Well, thank you. And him.� Under Ikael�s urgings, and after verifying there�s nothing to be worried about, I slide on the ring. It�s not exactly my style, but it�s still a powerful accessory. �I don�t really control any of my people, but I can certainly see items like this being useful for our police or security force. If you have a list of what you can offer, I can make sure my people send the information to the right people. I�m sure they�ll be happy to have a more local customer.�

�My thoughts exactly,� Ikael says, his smile wide. �And there�s another thing I was hoping to speak with you about.�

�Oh?�

�The Planetary Vote. Your settlements took little part in the previous vote. Your orders, I presume,� Ikael asks cunningly.

�No,� I say, shaking my head. In fact, at the time, Lana was looking into how they could potentially put enough votes together. But with the weight of the entire settlement on her shoulders, she and Katherine had decided the task was too impossible to handle. So they�d taken the most minor of actions, gathering information rather than actively participating. �I was incommunicado at the time.�

�For a long time, I understand,� Ikael says. �It is dangerous for one of us to go away for such a long period. It�s amazing you were able to hold on to your settlements, even after such time. Your people must respect and fear you greatly.�

I shrug at the statement, unsure of how to answer him. Fear me? I rather hope not, though it might be a tad na�ve to think so.

�Then, if you are not looking to abstain, perhaps I can convince you to vote for me.�

�You could, but it seems to be a pointless move. There�re no benefits to having more votes, not unless we can get the Galactic Seat,� I say, leaning back to stare at Ikael. Interesting how Ikael hasn�t asked me why I came, instead happy to guide the conversation to his own desires. But if he�s willing to talk, I�m willing to listen.

�I see you understand the matter,� Ikael says, pounding on the table slightly. �The aliens have taken too much of our land. But it is a small detail. I�m already moving to secure additional votes�including from the aliens.�

�Oh?� I say softly, curious if he�ll elaborate. He disappoints me though.

�Yes. While I don�t expect to win during the next vote, I expect a strong showing will convince even more humans to side with me. I might even manage to get the American to vote for me. I know he�s in desperate need of more help,� Ikael says with a smirk. �I�m sure with my army, we could convince some of his more stubborn members.�

I blink, turning over his words in my head. As I do so, I freeze, my heart rate spiking as a sense of danger shoots through me. In another second, I see a shadow-cloaked figure step out of a gap in space and slam a blade into Ikael�s back. His force Shield flares, blocking the attack, but the assassin doesn�t stop, her movements a blur as she strikes again and again, each attack tearing apart layered Shields.

�Assassin!� I yell, standing swiftly and lunging forward.

The reaction is automatic but predictable, and shadow tendrils grab hold of my feet, yanking me off balance and pulling me back to the end of the room. Strong as I am, the attack catches me entirely by surprise and it takes me a second to tear the shadows apart. As I do so, the door slams open, Ikael�s guards pouring in.

The assassin doesn�t stop. A swift twist of her body cuts into Ikael�s flailing arm and pins it to the desk as the last of his defensive Shields go down. As I raise a hand to throw a Soul Shield around Ikael, his guards are opening up their attacks. A projected Power Strike, a Molten Beam, and more lash out at the assassin. Before the Soul Shield can take effect, the entire room plunges into a darkness that even the beam rifle�s attacks cannot disrupt.

�Ali! How is Ikael?�

�Nearly dead. But uhhhhh� boy-o�� Ali�s voice is hesitant, almost confused.

Another second and a new notification pops up.

Ingrid Starling (Level 43 Shadow Assassin)

HP: 643/2780

MP: 754/2330

Conditions: Shadow Body, Death God�s Embrace, Shadow Doppleganger * 2

�What�?�

My surprise is more than sufficient time for the other notification floating in front of me to flatline. Ikael�s dead, slain by an old friend of mine. Right in front of me. I kneel there, blinking in surprise even as the guards scream and shout, attempting to pierce the darkness. In a minute, the darkness fades, revealing the headless body of Ikael, stripped of his rings and other enchanted items.

Within seconds, I find guns and hands pointed at my face. A few hasty guards even take potshots at me, which bounce off my Soul Shield and do little other than shake me free from my surprise. The guards shout and scream orders at me and finally, rather than cause any further issues, I comply.

Thankfully, my Soul Shield keeps the rough handling to a minimum. Still, I�m treated like a dangerous prisoner, one forced to sit in the middle of an empty courtyard where they�re able to point field cannons at me and cluster multiple Advanced Classers as guards. I absently note they�ve strengthened the quantum lock around me, shutting down my escape options.

Through all their barked orders, I comply. I play the good guy, the polite and self-effacing Canadian who definitely did not assassinate or take part in assassinating their leader. And all the while, I�m chatting with Ali.

�How the hell did I not see her come in?� I ask Ali.

My answer comes in another notification.

Shadow Plane

User is able to travel through the shadow plane, a dimension that exists between most other dimensional planes. Quantum lock and other dimensional-locking effects are less effective against users of the shadow plane, for shadows exist everywhere. Spending too much time in the shadow plane can have adverse effects on an individual and attract unwanted attention from residents in the Shadow Plane.

Effect: User may enter or exit the Shadow Plane. Dimensional-locking Skills, spells, and technology have a 50% reduction in effectiveness.

Cost: 500 per entry / exit

�So she wasn�t sneaking in, she just walked in through another dimension. And paid the extra cost to punch through their lock. Must have been where she lost her health too,� I say, musing to Ali.

It makes sense. I�d noticed the quantum lock they were using in the city was a disruptive one, rather than a stasis lock. It�s the cheapest quantum lock method, but anyone willing to take the damage can punch through such a lock, unlike a stasis lock which basically blocks all such movements. Of course, the negative of stasis locks are that if you have enough Mana or strength, you can pierce them and appear without incurring any further damage.

�Good day, Mr. Lee,� a small, wiry Caucasian man in a full light-grey suit and tie comes up to me, conjuring a chair and a table before sitting across from me. �I�m so sorry about the delay, but I�m sure you understand how busy it�s been?�

�Of course,� I say, inclining my head.

A servant comes up with a jug of iced tea and a pair of glasses, which he sets down between us.

�I�m Inspector Jacques Lamar,� Jacques says, flashing me a smile as he fumbles in a pocket, pulling out a small notepad and a pen. He grins at me slightly then nods at the jug. �Do you mind? I�ve been talking non-stop��

I blink, then shrug and pour the man a glass and myself one too. I push it toward him and watch him drink before I sip on mine. No poison then, or truth drugs. Of course, neither of those things are something I�m terribly concerned with, with my resistances, but it�s always something worth noting.

�Thank you so much,� Jacques says. �And again, for your patience. Now, I understand you arrived four hours ago?�

After glancing at the clock, I say, �Five and a quarter.�

�Right, right.� Jacques scribbles on his notepad and begins to question me seriously.

I note that he keeps bouncing back and forth, asking questions sometimes out of order or returning to previous points, but eventually, he drags the entire story out of me. I hold nothing back. After all, nothing Ikael or I spoke of was particularly surprising or secretive. In one of the breaks between questions, I find time to ask my own questions.

�Why don�t you buy all this from the Shop? I can�t believe you can�t afford it.� I say, my brows drawn.

�We tried. Unfortunately the assassin has a Skill which makes such purchases extremely expensive. As a mere inspector, I cannot approve an expense of such magnitude,� Jacques says with a self-deprecating smile.

�And Ikael�s successor?�

�Has yet to do so,� Jacques replies. �He is extremely busy right now.�

�There�s rumblings of a civil war, boy-o. I�m picking up quite a few skirmishes going on outside of the compound, and data sieved about the kingdom�s status shows substantial swings in all tracked statistics from Credits to safe zone areas. I�m guessing they�re losing territory,� Ali supplies.

Question done, Jacques moves on to the trade deal, probing into the details of our discussion. Of course, since we had barely even begun speaking about it, I don�t have much to say. That becomes a long-winded explanation about how I�m a lazy-ass settlement leader who leaves the real work to his subordinates. Which of course leads to another question.

�If you aren�t involved in the settlement affairs, why did you come? It doesn�t sound like you were looking for a trade deal.�

�I wasn�t,� I answer truthfully. �I was hoping to speak with Ikael about the Planetary Vote.�

�Ah,� Jacques breathes the word, scribbling on his notepad.

I wait while he scribbles, patiently until the inspector looks up and raises an eyebrow.

�What?� I grump at him.

�Nothing. I thought you had something more to say on the topic,� Jacques says.

�Nope,� I say with a shrug. �I�m trying to understand where everyone else stands on it.� A beat, then I decide to be fully truthful. There�s little reason to hide it. �I want us to win a Galactic Seat, but we need to sort out the votes.�

�Eighty percent, yes?� Jacques says after flipping backward in his notebook. I absently note how he goes well past the point where he began writing at the start of our interview to find this information. Obviously this has come up before. Though I have to wonder the context and reason.

�Yes.�

�But Ikael would never agree to anyone but him being on the seat,� Jacques says, his voice neutral with just a little hint of curiosity. Charming, without the Skill. A subtler use of his attributes, a self-effacing manner rather than an overt push with his attribute. But I see the notification that he�s actively using it to affect my emotions and thoughts. �How did you intend to convince him otherwise?�

I consider his question and the context of our interview. Right. Motivation. From the outside, this looks like really good motivation. Crap. I take a moment to be more careful about what I say and how I say it, but I note the slightest tightening around the eyes as the inspector processes my hesitation. Crap.

�I didn�t. I hadn�t thought of it. I wanted to talk to him first, get an understanding of the man himself,� I say. �Maybe he would have been fine to be the person on the seat. If so, I�d throw my backing behind him.�

�You didn�t want it yourself?�

�Not my style,� I say, shaking my head. �The settlements are more than enough work as it stands. I just want Earth to have the seat.�

�Why?�

�You should know why,� I say.

�Indulge me?�

�Taxes. Duties. Control of the Mana flow. Access to information,� I say, chanting the answer I�ve given to everyone else as if I�m bored by the topic. Which, truth be told, I am. But it also helps conceal the other reason, the most important reason for me, for Earth to get a seat. Access. Access to Irvina, the capital of the Galactic System, which has gated entry. Sure, if I receive sufficient Galactic reputation or fame, I might be able to get in. But the likelihood of that, in the short term, is incredibly low.

�Ah, a patriot then,� Jacques says with no derision in his voice, even a touch of admiration. But I�m fast realizing the inspector is smart and gifted. He�s an interrogator who knows he�ll get more information playing nice, taking his time and asking questions rather than trying to strong-arm his way through this.

�No. A humanist maybe,� I say with a smile.

�Then you�d be happy to inform us who it was who killed Ikael.�

�Sorry. Information was blocked,� I say.

�Really? Because your Spirit is known for being able to call up such information,� Jacques says, suddenly going on the attack.

�He is. But the assassin�s skill was good enough to stop him. It was a bit hectic in there.�

�Really? Because the guards said they could get some information on his Status.�

�Well then, why ask me about him?� I say, playing along.

�Because the information they got from her wasn�t complete,� Jacques says, flipping backward a few pages.

�Her?� I frown, cocking my head to the side. �I thought you said him.�

�Oh, yes. I did.� Jacques shrugs before sipping on his iced tea.

I can�t help but chuckle at his antics, even as I look around the area and note how the guards are being changed out again. They�ve been rotating portions of the guard around me this entire time, keeping their people rested on the off-chance I�ll do something.

�Well done, boy-o.�

Interrogation resistance skill increased

Deception skill increased

I blink away the notifications, chuckling within as Ali shows off the results of my hours-long interrogation. It�s not something either of us bothers to directly track on an on-going basis since skills�unlike Class Skills�are statistics tracked about actual skills I possess. While my Perk Subterfuge allows me to develop certain skills�like the above deception, interrogation, or stealth skills�at a greater rate than normal, it seems more an ability to accumulate experience faster rather than a sudden surge of information which gets planted within me. So instead of taking say a month of classes to learn something, I only need a few weeks. It�s a gradual change over time, but the actual statistics of where I am don�t matter. I�m kind of glad there�s no weird information download. It�d be even weirder Leveling up something like dancing and finding myself able to do the cha-cha even though I�ve never taken a class.

On second thoughts�

�Penny for your thoughts, Mr. Lee?� Jacques says, interrupting my musings.

�Just thinking about when this is going to be over.�

�Do bear with me. I have just a few more questions�� Jacques says, and I don�t even bother hiding the roll of my eyes.

But I stay seated, happy to play along for now. The last thing I need is to be associated with an assassination attempt while trying to get other settlement leaders to meet with and vote for me.

The interrogation continues for another couple of hours, but eventually Jacques gives up on getting any further information from me. He shows an amazing amount of Willpower and commitment, but I somehow get the feeling the entire interview process isn�t much different than what he�s used to. Unfortunately, the interrogation ending doesn�t mean I�m released, so I get to sit in the courtyard for a few more hours.

As I�m guided out of the courtyard, I receive a rather sternly worded statement that boils down to �Your presence is not wanted� before I�m sent back to the teleportation portal to be bounced out. They don�t even bother paying for a long-range teleportation, dumping me at the nearest settlement outside their borders. It�s a bit annoying actually, considering it probably cost them nearly as much to drop me in a non-padded location as it would have to send me back properly. It�d be a major inconvenience if I didn�t have my Skill.

For a moment, I stare at the notification that informs me I�m in the Town of N�Djamena with the usual listing of facilities. A quick perusal of my map shows I�m pretty much in the center of Africa, my sudden appearance already attracting the attention of the locals.

�About time,� a familiar voice drawls, making me crane my head to the side and back to spot the First Nation woman and ex-party member.

�Ingrid. Are you the one who got me deposited here?� I say, putting two and two together.

�Yup. Amazing what happens when your entire society is built on corruption,� Ingrid says with a smirk and drops from the squat building she was sitting on, landing beside me. �Hungry?�

�I could eat,� I answer, eyes narrowing as we walk toward the conveniently located restaurant. The paranoid part of me points out that this could be dangerous, but I push it aside. Ingrid�s a friend.

�Thanks for not interfering too much,� Ingrid says as we get a seat. She holds up a hand as I look to speak, instead ordering in rapid-fire French. �Hope you don�t mind me ordering. Their Chef here is amazing, but limited.�

I wave to dismiss her statement, instead wanting to focus on the more important part. �Why did you, well, do what you did.� I pause, realizing we�re still in public. A part of me winces as well, considering everything we could say could be purchased. But she�s got her Skills and I�ve got my necklace. So it should be fine. Right?

�Relax. I didn�t just choose this restaurant for its food,� Ingrid says, seeming to read my mind.

Sometimes, I really hate how the women around me seem to be able to do that with such ease. Then again, maybe I should stop worrying about the obvious things and trust my friends.

�The owner has a Skill that blocks information gathering in this restaurant.� When I raise an eyebrow at Ingrid, she smirks. �I�m pretty sure he�s connected. If you know what I mean.�

I grunt, waving her on and ignoring her bad mob talk.

�Right. Always so impatient. It�s simple really. I got paid,� Ingrid says.

�Paid. You a merc now?�

�With the mouth.� Ingrid smirks then sobers up when I don�t react. �Yeah, not funny. Real pity he died� but yes, I do some jobs when I�m free.�

�Who paid you?� I ask, a slight amount of heat in my voice. �And how did you manage to do it when I was right there?� The level of coincidence involved seems way too high.

�Firstly, don�t know. And even if I did, wouldn�t tell you. I do everything via cut-outs,� Ingrid says, tapping her fingers. �Safer that way. Secondly, it wasn�t a coincidence. Well, not exactly. I�d been planning this job for days, waiting for him to use that office. That isn�t his usual one�his other office is even more secure but a lot less pretty. When you showed up, I knew he�d be meeting with you in his show office, so I made sure to sneak in while they kept you waiting.�

�Just my luck that I showed up instead of someone else,� I say, grimacing. �How many days?�

�About three,� Ingrid says.

So after I got back and started making my presence known. Interesting timing, but there�s not much I can do about that, beyond keeping it in mind.

�Any guesses on who?� I ask.

�I don�t make guesses. Bad habit to get into,� Ingrid says. �But the people I take jobs on? Most of them have a very long list of enemies. A very, very long list. Even if you take out those who can�t afford me, it�s still a lot of people. My targets are really not nice people.�

I smile slightly, glad to hear that Ingrid�s still got some form of morals. I�m actually a bit surprised at myself that I�m not angrier or more upset at her. Perhaps it�s the apocalypse, perhaps it�s the time on the other planet, but I find little outrage in me at her actions. A trace of disappointment, but even that fades at her proclamation about her targets. I know some might discuss the sanctity of life, of how important giving people a chance is, of allowing karma or a higher power to mete out judgment. But the truth is, there�s been so much blood on my hands that I find it hard to throw stones of any kind. So long as she isn�t coming for me or mine, I�ll give Ingrid the benefit of doubt.

I wish she hadn�t killed Ikael. After all, his murder set his entire kingdom aflame and destroyed the coalition he had been building. That leaves me with having to contact the numerous individuals under Ikael�s banner individually. It�s a waste of time, one that frustrates and angers me. I push down the frustration and anger, reminding myself that what is, is.

�Fair enough,� I say. �Any particular kind of list for Ikael?�

�Political enemies. Sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers wanting revenge. Workers tired of being forced to work overtime for no benefits. Frustrated businessmen.� Ingrid shrugs. �And that�s just those in this kingdom. Ikael�s been making noises about a war against some of the other settlements nearby. Galactic and human. Anyone who wasn�t willing to play ball.�

Before I can speak further, the dishes arrive. The cuisine is a range of high-falutin� French cuisine and more traditional African fare with beans, mashed meat, and vegetables I can�t even name. Potentially because they might be Galactic. We dig in, our discussion turning to less contentious subjects. Ingrid fills me in on her life while I was gone, one that mostly encompasses a lot of fights, occasional assassinations, and even more scouting missions.

�Sounds like you�ve been busy.�

�Things have changed a bit since you�ve gone,� Ingrid says as she shifts peas around on her plate, separating a single pea before stabbing it with her fork. �Cheaper and more effective to deal with a single asshole and make him an example than to go in and take over entire settlements. You can always do that later if they haven�t learned the lesson.� The fork shifts, separating another pea. �Or you can just repeat the process if they don�t get the lesson. You�d be surprised how many don�t.�

I cock my head to the side, considering what Lana mentioned to me about Ingrid hanging out with Miller more. Sounds more like what the CIA would do than the army, but without the CIA any longer, I wonder if Miller�s taken over those tactics. Or maybe I�m giving them too much credit. There�s no reason Ingrid isn�t picking these targets herself with this idea in mind.

�Well, this was enlightening,� I say finally when the dishes are finished.

�And you?� Ingrid asks, then points at Ali, who�s taken a seat at the bar and is imbibing glasses of spirits like a college student on St. Patrick�s Day. �I see the Spirit got bigger.�

�He did. Consequence of my new Master Class.� I consider what to say about my time away. I haven�t spoken of it much. Not to Lana or Roxley. Not to anyone. But somehow, I have a feeling that Ingrid might understand. Her experience in the last few years parallels mine, being lonelier and bloodier than most. �It was difficult. I was thrown into a Forbidden Planet��

I outline the basics. Long years of fighting, of not Leveling. Of having to learn to use my abilities in ways I�d never considered before, of upgrading my spells because I had to learn to manipulate Mana without the aid of the System. By the time I�m done, it�s late and we�ve finished another pair of bottles of wine.

�And that�s it�� I say when I see Ali yawning, floating off his chair and staring at a pair of visible System screens. This time, it�s a baking reality TV show. �I guess we should get going.�

�Hold up.� Ingrid twists her hand and a watch I had last seen on Ikael�s wrist hours ago appears.

�What is that?� I frown.

�Ikael�s dimensional storage chain and AI,� Ingrid says, tapping the watch. �The storage is locked, but it can be broken.�

�And the AI?� I ask, curiosity getting me. If Ikael used the AI anything like I did Ali, this could be a huge boon.

�Maybe,� Ingrid says with a shrug. �I can�t. Sam� might have been able to.� We fall silent at the old man�s name, his death still a little raw. But soon enough, Ingrid looks up. �But I�m almost certain the details of the settlements he had deals with are in here.�

�What do you want?� I ask with a frown. It�s obvious that she mentioned all this with a purpose.

�I can have it cracked, but you�ll owe me,� Ingrid says. �One request at a later date. No questions asked.�

�No. I don�t do open-ended favors like that.�

�Really�?�

�Hush, you.�

�Just ask me,� I say to Ingrid, meeting her gaze directly.

She grimaces, not meeting my eyes for a time. Eventually, she looks up with a harsh exhalation. �Fine. I want to join you. On the trip out.�

�Trip?�

�To the capital. I want to be part of the entourage,� Ingrid says, glaring at me. �Deal?�

I consider her question then raise a finger. �One thing. No killing anyone I don�t agree to other than in self-defense on the trip.�

�Deal.�

I nod and point at the watch. �Then get it cracked and we�ll see what we can do about getting that seat.�

Ingrid flashes me a smile and I return it. Curiosity bids me ask though�

�Why do you want to go?�

�Why not?� Ingrid says with a shrug. Something dark flashes through her eyes before she looks at me, her lips twisting slightly. �I know you�re not going to go sightseeing. I figure if there�s violence to be had, you�ll bring it. And those bastards, they need to be paid back.�

I know which �those� she means. And truth be told, I agree with her. Damn Council. For a time, I stare at my friend and see the shadows of the past, the losses she�s suffered. We�ve all lost friends and family, but Ingrid lost her entire town, her entire tribe. She�s the last survivor of Dawson City, maybe even the last of her people. For a moment, I see the gaping hole she covers up with sarcasm. Then she smiles and stands, making the watch disappear, followed by herself.

�Now what?� I ask the open air, considering what more there is to do.

Ali appears beside me, picking at the remnants of the meal. �The usual of course, boy-o. Just more work. You�ve met the human players. Now it�s time to talk to the Galactics.�

I let out a low groan, but Ali�s right. Still, I decide to push it aside for a bit. Better to Portal home first. There�s going to be some fallout from this assassination. And truth be told, there�s an elf I need to speak to in Vancouver, if I want to speak to the Movana.

�Home.�

Chapter 13

As I guessed, the fallout from the assassination spreads almost immediately. While others have been killed before, it was always cross-species or smaller fry. Ikael is the first true leader to be killed by another human, and the new threat throws everyone into a tizzy. It takes me ages to convince Katherine and Lana firstly, to take additional precautions, and secondly, that I don�t need any additional security measures. It�s not to say I think I am invincible, but my particular Skillset as an Honor Guard gives me significant defenses against an assassination attempt. It would be really, really tough to lock me down long enough to end me, not unless they throw the kitchen sink too.

Once matters calm down, the next few days are spent on the phone, if you will. Long-range communication towers have been set up all across Earth, linking City Cores to one another. While communication is still limited to City Cores, at least now humanity is once again connected. It makes everything, from commerce to relationships, so much simpler.

My job, over the next little while, is extending a friendly hand to these human settlements. Truth be told, it isn�t even my plan. Within a few hours of my return, I receive one call after the other. It seems that a side effect of being involved in Ikael�s murder�however peripherally�is that I have become significantly more popular among the more spineless settlement owners. In their minds, it makes more sense to befriend me than face a possible assassination.

�Then we�ve got a deal. I�ll have a pair of bodyguards sent to you once the Contract is finalized,� I say to the dark-haired, big-nosed gentleman who smiles nervously.

�Good. Good. I�ll have it signed right away. I�m sure your bodyguards will keep the assassins off,� the man says.

�They�re all very well trained. We�ve doubled down on training with both ex-members of the US Secret Service and members of the Erethran Honor Guard. I�m sure they�ll do well.�

A few more words of pleasantries pass before the man fades away. I slump back in my chair as I stare at Ali, who is seated across from me, feet up on my table.

�I believe a major export of ours has become bodyguards,� I say, chuckling. �Good thing Ayuri agreed to let her people train ours.�

�You�re not exporting bodyguards. You�re exporting peace of mind,� Ali says. �I�m proud of you, boy-o. You�ve even got that insinuating silence down to an art form in the last few days. Dropping Ingrid�s name once in a while is doing wonders. Let�s just hope she doesn�t take a job on any of them.�

I snort. No surprise, but Ingrid�s identity was eventually revealed. Of course, I then had to deal with demands to come back for another interrogation, which I refused. I knew the investigator had a Truth Tell Skill of some sort, otherwise he�d never have let me go. And so I repeated my denials of having anything to do with the murder. But somehow, no one believed me. It didn�t help that the actual source of the contract is yet to be found.

�What are we at?� I ask Ali while Lana strides in, looking at the pair of us, the bowl of snacks on the table, and the mess of carvings I�ve left on it.

�Eight point seven percent. Another four percent are wavering from Ikael�s people. They�re probably waiting for an actual bribe,� Ali says, ticking off on his fingers. �And the rest of his supporters are actually angry at you. I doubt you�ll get them. Not directly.�

�Good thing I�m not looking for them to vote for me directly then. I�m sure Bipasha and Roy are making their own moves too,� I say before turning to Lana. �Problem?�

�No,� Lana says, shaking her head. �But we do have a visitor. Wynn�s here.�

I grin slightly. Finally. The damn elf has been off running a dungeon delve for the last few days, which is the other reason I�ve been stuck waiting. �Show him in.�

�Of course.�

�And stay, if you can,� I add.

Lana smiles at me at the invitation and disappears around the corner.

While we wait for Lana to get Wynn, Ali looks between the door and me. �You guys doing okay?�

�Of course,� I say softly. �I�m a big boy. She�s moved on. It�s more than fair, especially since, well, you know.� I point upward.

�I notice you haven�t asked anything about her boy toy,� Ali points out.

�Don�t need to know that,� I say snippily and then exhale, shaking my head. �Just because I�m okay with her moving on doesn�t mean I need the details.�

�If you say so,� Ali says doubtfully.

As footsteps near, Ali fades, turning invisible once again rather than be forced to actually participate and pay attention to this meeting.

�Wynn,� I greet the Guild Master with a smile as I stand.

Wynn a Maro is the Vancouver Guild Master of the Burning Leaves, a powerful Tier II Guild whose members originate from everywhere but who are headquartered in the capital of the Movana Kingdom. They might not be directly backed by the Movana Kingdom, but they certainly draw a large number of their people from the noble class. In fact, the surnames of their Guild leadership could read like a Who�s Who.

�Redeemer.� Wynn bows, smiles, and takes the indicated seat.

Lana slides into one too, angling the chair so that we each sit in one corner of a triangle.

�You wished to speak with me?� he asks.

�I�m not going to beat around the bush,� I say. �I�m looking to get enough votes for Earth to gain a seat on the Galactic Council. To do that��

�You�ll need the support of many Galactics,� Wynn says. �But I�m surprised you�re speaking to me and not your Lord Roxley. I am, after all, only a minor guild leader.�

�I have,� I say flatly. �But I�m an equal opportunity opportunist. If your people can and are willing to work with us, I�m willing to talk. And you can drop the garbage about your position. We both know you�re more than just a minor guild leader.�

�It is troublesome,� Wynn says simply. �Your actions against the Zarrie before you left angered some. Your close relations with the Truinnar are another concern. Even if I were to open lines of communication, it would be extremely troublesome.�

�But if you work with us, you can help decrease our reliance on them,� I say, offering him a half smile.

Wynn returns it and doesn�t directly contradict my words.

�Earth is caught between your kingdoms,� Lana says, drawing Wynn�s attention to her where she sits demurely, hands crossed on her lap. �But all we want is the right to choose our future. We�re willing to work with whoever is willing to help us achieve that goal. And we�d love to have the Movana as an ally.�

�And the addition of humanity as allies is something I wish for,� Wynn says, laying a hand over his heart. Which, in Movana is actually more toward the right and down than in humans. �I�ve grown to like your people in my time here.�

�And for that, we are grateful. If you can speak with others,� Lana says beguilingly. She�s not simpering, that�d be too weak, but it is a pointed and heartfelt request. It�s enough to make Wynn nod slightly, unconsciously. �And help us pitch our hopes.�

�I shall do what I can, Lady Pearson,� Wynn says, smiling back at her.

�Just Ms.�

�Not in my eyes,� Wynn replies, and I almost roll my eyes. �But I cannot make any assurances. I can only speak with those in power here.�

�That�s all we can ask for,� Lana says.

I watch Wynn preen and I wonder if he�s even realized he�s fallen for her. Or if he does, if he cares. After a few more pleasantries, Wynn takes his leave.

Lana returns to the office after showing the Movana out, slumping in a seat next to me. �Are you sure you want to go with the Truinnar?�

�Pretty boy making you think they�re a better choice?� I say.

�I don�t know if better is right, but have you done any research about either group? Beyond the people you�ve met?� Lana asks.

�I have. For all their bitching, they�re actually very closely aligned. No surprise, when the Truinnar are just a branch that decided to run off a millennia or so ago. The Movana are a little looser with their noble structures, more free-flowing with those who move up or down their society. The Truinnar are more stratified in theory, but their entire army division allows the ambitious a respected and serviceable method to gain influence and position.

�Geographically�if that�s even the right word when we�re talking about star kingdoms�the Movana have fewer solar systems under their control but higher populations and higher build-out. The Truinnar have a more scattershot approach, with a large number of so-so areas. Roxley�s old domain was one of those scattershot areas, great at first and then, well, not so much. Economically, the Movana are better off, but the Truinnar have a stronger standing army. Not that it matters as much to us. Of course, the last few decades have seen the heating up of their old cold war.�

�And they support different factions, which means it�s unlikely they�ll ever work together,� Lana adds. �And one of those factions probably made us a Dungeon World.�

�The Movana,� I say. �Sounds like a bad option to give them what they want then.�

�Except for the fact that if they�re willing to send more than six billion of us to hell, what makes you think they�d let you do what you want?� Lana says.

�I�ve considered it,� I say, looking at my hands, framed as they are by the dark walnut wood. I shrug, giving her a half smile. �But they�ll find out I�m a lot harder to kill than they think.�

�Maybe. But I don�t trust the Truinnar either. You know they�re willing to backstab to get what they want,� Lana says. �Roxley might be trustworthy, but he�s not acting alone.�

�True. In the end, we�re just waiting anyway,� I say with a grimace. �If neither group is willing to work with us at all, this is just theoretical.�

Lana nods, but her troubled look doesn�t go away. Not even when we switch to more productive topics. As the redhead walks out, I can�t help but consider that maybe she�s right. But in the end, I�ve got to try.

Movana and Truinnar done, I need to hit up the other Galactic groups. Amusingly enough, the warmongering, weapon-building Ares Corp is the easiest to handle. Almost immediately from the initial call, I�m put forward to their planetary head of operations. And after that, it just becomes a matter of horse trading. Thankfully, I drag Katherine and Lana into the actual negotiations, since I find myself well out of my depth within seconds. After all, tax structures, preferred supplier status, and duty rates are all things I have no real experience at. In a surprisingly short amount of time, the entire negotiation is wrapped up, a contract in place and signed. When it�s done, the three of us share a glass of champagne around my office table.

�So. Did that seem a lot easier than it should be?� I say, staring at the contract notification floating in front of me.

Lana glares at me, running a hand through her hair. Even with her bountiful Constitution and Charisma, she looks slightly frazzled after the umpteenth marathon negotiating session. �Easy? You didn�t just spend the last three days in continuous negotiations.�

�It did,� Katherine asserts, denying Lana�s assertion. �And that last request��

�Something tells me that was the whole point of the negotiation,� I say.

�Are you sure you�re new at this?� Katherine says, her eyes narrowing.

I shift uncomfortably, uncertain of what to say. It�s true that I wasn�t apt at managing office politics in my previous life, but I�ve had time to reflect on my past mistakes. And between my Intelligence and Wisdom attribute increases and my Subterfuge Perk, I have a feeling that some information is leaking in. I�m beginning to get a weird intuitive sense for backstabbing politics. Underhanded dealings, those I can handle. I have a feeling I�d be floored if I ever had to deal with an honest, upstanding politician. Thankfully, the Galactic variety are similar to ours�they exist, but they�re rarer than hen�s teeth.

�New enough,� I answer, breaking off from my musings. And my, somewhat justified, concern about what exactly is leaking in under the influence of the Perk. �In either case, we agreed to it. I need to speak with the Fist anyway, and this is as good a time as any. I�ll be back in a few days.�

Katherine offers me a nod while Lana grimaces, tugging at her messed up dress.

I stand, considering. �Think Mikito would be up for a trip?�

The answer was yes. Once we contacted the Samurai, she managed to catch up with us at the teleportation pad. Of course, part of that was because Lana took an hour to catch a cat nap and change. Mikito looked almost eager to be coming, a light smile on her lips as she gives Lana a hug before playing with the various pets. Once the requisite greetings and licks have been dealt with and a discreet Cleanse cast, Mikito turns to us with a smile.

�It�s almost like old times,� Mikito says, looking around. �Now if Ingrid was around and Carlos could be dragged out��

�Huh. I think you�d have better chance with Aiden,� I say. �He seems to have gotten over his fears.�

�A bit,� Mikito says, shooting a look at Lana. �It might have been because Lana kept bugging him while wearing a tank top a couple of summers ago.�

�Mikito!� Lana says, apparently scandalized at first before she breaks into a grin. �If you�ve got them�� She gives a pointed look at the tiny Japanese�s rather flat chest.

�Low blow,� Mikito says with a growl, crossing her arms reflexively.

�Who says Ingrid isn�t here?� I say, looking about and heading off the dustup by changing the topic. �Not as if we could ever tell.�

�Har. No. She�s too busy making Credits to hang out with us,� Lana says with a frown.

I hear the slight bitterness in the redhead�s tone and mentally grimace. Damn it. Topic change�fail.

�Come on, we�re holding up the line,� I say eventually, waving up the group.

It amuses me how the pets go first. All of them, including Lana�s griffin, are transported before the three of us get on board. A slight shiver, a twisting in the folds of space, and we�re suddenly there. I snort slightly, noting the usual greeting notification and the now prevalent icon indicating a quantum lock in space.

You have entered a Safe Zone�the Town of Scarborough

Mana flows in this area are stabilized. No monster spawning will occur in this region. Stamina and Health Regeneration increased by 2% in this zone. Please note that unauthorized teleportation is forbidden.

This Safe Zone includes:

City of Scarborough City Center

Shop

Arena

Armory

�

�Duelist Lee. Spear Sato. Mistress Pearson,� the apelike, barrel-chested creature who greets us uses our titles.

It�s the first time I�ve ever heard anyone called Lana by her title�abbreviated or not�of the Mistress of Flame and Beasts, but obviously, it means something to these people. Which is interesting, since most combat titles are rarely used in greetings. From what I�ve gathered, it�s a bit of a social faux pas.

�Champion Emven,� I greet the Galactic while making sure that Ali remembers to send his Status information to my friends. Not that they probably don�t have their own Skills, come to think of it.

Emven Iz, Champion of the Purple Sands, Greater Meatshield (Shield Guardian Level 38)

HP: 5430/5430

MP: 870/870

Conditions: Vulcanized skin, Organ sheath, Reflexive Shield

�Good call, boy-o. The Fist care more about combat titles than anyone else. Frankly, your Redeemer title holds no weight here. Though I�m getting an inkling of what we can expect,� Ali says.

�Well, spit it out.�

�Nah, this will be more fun,� Ali sends back with a smirk.

And despite repeated prodding, Ali refuses to divulge anything further. All the while, I�m listening to Emven as he leads us through the reconstructed city where the looming, giant oval structure dominates the city. Emven waxes lyrical about the many historical battles fought over Tobago in its Earth history, and most recently, by the Galactic colonists. I find it all quite interesting, but the big building even more so.

�Where are going?� Lana asks during one of the few breaks.

�Ah, we walk toward the arena. The governor is holding court there as usual,� Emven says. �He also felt warriors like you would find it of great interest.�

�Really now,� I say, looking at the looming building. Cheers echo out from the open air building. Loud. So very loud, the clash of blades and the hiss of spells ringing through the air, almost as if a heavy metal band had taken to the stands with their amplified instruments. �Sounds like there�re a lot of people there.�

�It�s the major form of entertainment. And training,� Emven remarks. �There�s normally between five to six thousand, but today, the governor made sure to have a few favorites show up to spice up the regular lineup. I hear we�re at nearly ten thousand.�

Lana cranes her head from side to side, noting the numerous pedestrians and the busy hum of vehicles which float along the street below and above us. Even at a glance, it�s clear Scarborough is as busy as Vancouver, even with the large audience in the arena.

�Mostly humans out here,� I send to Ali, judging the difference between the settlements.

�Want to bet the Galactics are at the arena?� Ali says with a smirk.

�No bet.�

I get a chuckle from Ali as we are led inward. There�s only a brief moment of awkwardness as we deal with Lana�s various pets. Eventually, the security personnel compromise, allowing Roland to accompany Lana within while the rest of the pets get housed with other pets and mounts. Grey corridors made of a stone-like substance, marked with light green and blue trimming, encompass us as we go up, finally ending at the skybox. A part of me is amused how certain architectural strictures are the same no matter the culture�give the important people luxurious space, a high viewing area, and privacy. I�m sure there are species who would abhor some of these concepts, but here, it�s the same.

�Welcome, friends! You are just in time for Umma of the Two Blades and Whirlpool Donnie. The Whirlpool is one of your compatriots and a very entertaining fighter.�

The jovial greeting hits us the moment we walk into the room. The speaker is a sight to behold, standing just over eleven feet tall and nearly as wide, his body a mass of firm grey fat, large long ears hanging down his elongated face, and tiny, beady eyes. For a moment, I wonder if anyone ever considered the concept of a werehippo, which is what the speaker looks like.

Asgauver Heindra, Boneshaker, Master of the Sands, Lord of the Fell Reaches, Survivor of the Marrik Raid, (more) (Level 21 Absorber)

HP: 13980/13980

MP: 1230/1230

Conditions: Altered Gravity, Healer�s Wrath, Force to Bone, Flayed Nerves

�Thank you,� I say and shake Asgauver�s hand. For the first time in a while, I feel tiny, my hand disappearing in the werehippo�s larger one.

The thirty-by-thirty room is filled with probably the widest array of Galactics I�ve ever come across in a non-violent fashion. A rolling ball of cables and tentacles, a siren, a sylph, Truinnar, Movana, Hakarta, and Yerrick are all easy to spot. There are other, less commonly seen Galactics in the crowd, including a pair of little grey men.

�What is he?� The notification pops up in my interface, tagged Lana.

�Kudaya Delta. Interesting world�there were four separate species on it when the System arrived, just starting out as agricultural civilizations. Each species is designated by a number type after the planet name. Nearly all their technology is Galactic owned. The Kudaya just decided to abandon creating their own technological culture and focused on being the best damn warriors they could be,� Mikito sends back almost immediately.

�How�d you know that?� I can�t help but send.

�Know your enemy.�

�Sit, sit.� Asgauver waves us to a trio of scaled down seats next to him. I absently note that instead of a chair with backing, Asgauver uses more of a leaning apparatus whose structure supports his lower back and butt. �Did you wish to place a bet? If so, you must do it quickly.�

�Uhh� maybe later,� I say even as Mikito adds a yes.

I blink as the usually reserved Japanese lady waves over at the attendant with a tablet. A few seconds of interaction later and the attendant moves away. Lana watches all this with a light curl on her lips, stroking Roland, who�s curled up next to her. I wonder what she thinks of all this.

Directly ahead of us, the window screens flash, shifting to showcase the pair of fighters entering the arena. Immediately, the din of conversation drops off as everyone focuses on the fight. Now that Asgauver and the Galactics around me are a lesser concern, I take in the arena. Perfectly white sand surrounds the otherwise empty arena, whose borders are protected by expensive and nearly perfectly clear force shields. Stadium seating goes up around the arena with a second layer of flying, floating, hovering, and otherwise airborne Galactics watching the fight. As we guessed, there aren�t a lot of humans in sight.

The fighters themselves are interesting. Like her name hints, Umma is a Movana who wields a pair of glowing short swords. One burns red hot, and the other seems to freeze the air around it. A plain black armored jumpsuit is covered by a gaudy yellow tactical vest where a series of smaller blades sit. On the other hand, the Whirlpool�short for Elemental Whirlpool�is a short, tanned human with shocking pink hair, a rapier at his waist, and a single glove on his wielding hand. Contrary to his appearance, the man is actually Classed as a Battle Mage. In terms of Levels, both of them are within a couple of points of each other, giving no clear advantage.

At the slug-like referee�s signal, the pair battle. Like the rest of the viewers�with the exception of Lana�Mikito is leaning forward, watching the battle with rapt attention. Umma dashes forward immediately, blurring across the ground. Donnie responds by conjuring waves of water. When Umma attempts to jump over the waves, tendrils of the liquid grip her legs, pulling her downward. Immediately, the water twists, transforming into the Battle Mage�s namesake.

�Ah, so fast!� Asgauver says, his tone full of disappointment.

�Har! Don�t count your Credits yet. My cousin is not so easily dealt with.� A Movana walks up to us, his smile wide and relaxed. �Care for a side wager?�

�Twenty thousand Credits,� Asgauver offers.

The Movana nods, the pair tapping their left shoulders to seal the deal in what looks like to be pure reflex.

�But this is rude. Friends, will any of you take on Quityan�s offer as well?� Asgauver asks.

Lana shakes her head again while Mikito visibly considers the question before shaking her head.

�Let me introduce myself. I�m Quityan o�Shea,� Quityan says.

It doesn�t take us long to introduce ourselves to the Forest Ranger, who then turns back to the fight. During this period, the elemental water conjured has transformed, icicles forming as they cut at the helpless figure within. Yet Quityan does not look concerned at all.

�Boy-o, focus on the body in the whirlpool with Mana sight.�

I call forth the ability, frowning slightly as the colors shift and change. Instead of the heatmap-like viewpoint a normal body would provide, what I see is a more solid figure, one which glows a light yellow.

�Doppleganger?�

Even as I finish asking the question, the body abruptly disappears. The real Umma appears behind Donnie, her blades slicing downward. They shatter against an invisible Mana Shield, one which absorbs both impacts but sends the Battle Mage staggering away. The Battle Mage�s reactions and recovery are amazing though, as Umma�s next attack is met by the rapier. Within seconds, additional tendrils of water and fire appear, joining Donnie�s defense as the pair duel at close quarters.

�A new Skill is it?� Asgauver says, contentment lacing his voice even as it looks as though he might lose the bet.

No one answers Asgauver, not that one is needed. The battle rages on, Donnie managing to pull away a couple of times, but never far enough to completely disengage from Umma. Eventually, the Mage�s greatest weakness tells and his Mana bottoms out, leaving him defenseless against Umma�s blades.

�Damn. A pity,� Asgauver says then gestures toward Quityan, who inclines his head after his gaze goes faraway. �Next time.�

�Not much of a Battle Mage,� Mikito grumbles, her arms crossed. But I note the bouncing in her foot, the way she�s leaning forward slightly as the next fight is announced.

�I believe none of you have visited us before, have you?� Quityan asks.

�No,� Lana answers him with a polite smile.

�Then I look forward to your fights,� Quityan says.

�What fights?� Lana says.

�And here we go, boy-o.�

�It is customary for first-time visitors to the arena to fight in it,� Asgauver says, then looks toward Emven. �Did you not inform our guests?�

�My apologies. I must have forgotten,� Emven says. His wooden delivery almost makes me choke with laughter.

�Well, as punishment, I�ll have to have you fight them,� Asgauver says, shaking his head.

�Of course.�

�Why are they doing this?� Lana sends the notification to all of us, and I shrug.

�Probably because they�re battle-crazy idiots. If you want a treaty with them, you�re going to need to be �worthy,�� Ali sends.

�I�m not so sure about that,� I send back.

Something about this setup doesn�t sit well with me. I can see Lana is perturbed, the slight crease in her eyebrows and the slightly longer look she gives Asgauver the tells. Nothing anyone who didn�t know her very well would notice.

�I�ll be your first opponent,� Mikito says, bouncing up from her seat and staring at Emven.

Lana and I are somewhat startled, staring at the little Japanese who looks ready to start the dance right this second.

�Ah� I�ll make arrangements,� Asgauver replies then looks at the pair of us.

�Lana�s here at my request. And while she can fight, I�d like to make a different offer,� I say, a coil of anger running through my stomach. They want to manipulate us and make us dance, make us fight for their entertainment? Fine. We can play.

�Offer?�

�I�ll fight you.�

Silence spreads at my pronouncement, the guests within the skybox turning toward our group. Asgauver gapes at me before bursting into a long, rumbling laugh that shakes the chair next to me.

�Done! Emven, make the arrangements.�

�Of course,� Emven says and taps his left shoulder before walking off.

A sharp pain erupts from my left ankle and I turn to look at a furious Lana.

�I don�t need you to protect me!�

�Wasn�t about you. I just don�t intend for them to get their way entirely.�

�I got to admit, boy-o�s got it right. The Fist are all about strength. This, this is strong.�

�So long as he wins.�

�I�ll win.�

�Show-off,� Mikito says, crossing her arms grumpily and staring at me. I laugh at her words, and she cracks a slight smile. �Baka.�

It takes an hour for Mikito�s fight to be arranged. In the meantime, the unlucky Samurai ends up losing all the matches she bets on. At Asgauver and Quityan�s urgings, Lana and I eventually partake in the betting after receiving contradictory advise from both Fist members. Toward the last couple of fights, Lana and I just decide to bet against Mikito�s choices, much to the mock outrage of the Samurai. If it wasn�t for the fact that some of the duels are multi-party free-for-alls, this might have been a winning strategy. It�s Ali who does the best, the Spirit quietly placing bets and winning a large number of his wagers.

While we wait, a few aspects of the arena battles which had puzzled us are explained. For one, use of grenades, portable shield generators, and drones are disallowed for most Classes. There are exceptions made for those who are not direct combat Classes, to make the fights a little fairer. Another thing we learn is while the arena can and does change its geography and features, providing everything from semi-permanent urban structures to even an aquatic environment, for today, a more sterile approach has been decided�a mano-o-mano fight. Unsurprisingly, many long-range, rifle-, and bow-wielding fighters have declined to fight in this kind of boring terrain. Without cover, portable or pre-made, they are in danger of being rushed by the melee fighters. And in this System-enhanced world, it is all too easy to close in on long-range fighters. My Blink Step is only one of the many teleporting abilities available.

All of this and the various safety procedures are explained to us while we wait for our friend�s fight. Eventually, it arrives.

Mikito walks out on the sand, her naginata already summoned and in her hands. She�s changed into a simple red-and-white armored jumpsuit, one that provides her full coverage and flexibility, with a simple helmet covering her face and hiding her long hair. Surrounding her body is the Ghost Armor of her Skill, giving her another form of protection similar to my Soul Shield, if more Mana intensive.

I stare at my friend, curious to see her really let loose in such a setting, before looking at her opponent, the shield guardian wielding a halberd-and-shield combination. Except the long blade of the polearm glows with an ominous light.

�What kind of Skills are we looking at with the Guardian?�

�In their main Class, mostly defensive Skills obviously. Two major builds that split along passive and active. Emven has a passive build, so while he�s got a significant health pool, he has a really low Mana pool and regen rate. He�s going to be able to soak up damage like a troll eats rocks.�

�I see you have bet heavily on your friend,� Asgauver says. �An admirable show of support.�

�I was looking more at taking you to the cleaners,� I say.

�Har. A nice thought, but he is not a champion for no reason,� Asgauver says. �She is good but young. Inexperienced. All of you humans are.�

Before I can answer, the referee signals the start of the fight, focusing everyone�s attention. Unlike Umma, Mikito takes her time edging toward the other melee fighter. Emven hunkers down low, his body clad in bulky, plate-mail-looking armor. Without warning, the champion fires a beam of brilliant purple energy from the head of the halberd. To my surprise, Mikito swings her naginata at the beam, cutting the attack apart and leaving the diffused beam to splash harmlessly against her armor.

�What the�?� I stare. It doesn�t make any sense. You can�t cut light.

Even with his initial attempt failing, Emven is willing to try again, firing another pair of blasts. Interestingly enough, just before the beam reaches Mikito�s attack range, they twist in mid-air, curving. Mikito casually cuts the pair of beams apart, her polearm spinning with blinding speed. As if deciding she�s had enough, the Japanese woman darts forward, seeming to appear beside Emven in a moment. My eyes widen slightly as she displays her Flash Step ability. She swings her polearm immediately, each strike somehow being blocked by Emven.

�What is that weapon?� Asgauver hisses, leaning forward.

I hear the whispered threads of conversation growing louder as Mikito�s repeated attacks begin to tell, each strike leaving larger and larger gouges on the shield, almost peeling back the reinforced shield.

�Mikito�s. I believe it�s soulbound,� I say, lying with a straight face. Inside, I�m sweating a little. Her weapon is more than soulbound�it�s a growth weapon. One which can gain strength over time. While we�ve taken steps�and I�m assured she has too�to hide the nature of it, there�s only so much you can do in a System-run world. If she attracts too much attention�

�Impressive. She has at least two Skills improving the weapon itself, but to do so much damage against Emven�s shield is astounding,� Asgauver says. �I have seen Master Class Skills do less damage.�

�Cleave and Reaver if you�re wondering. Though I�m pretty sure the second is actually part of the weapon,� Ali says.

I say nothing, though a thread of worry grows in my stomach for Mikito. The Soul Drinker Skill of her naginata means it will, eventually, become an Artifact. It�s the kind of weapon people get killed for owning.

�I have a feeling� there,� I say, watching as Emven gives up on waiting for Mikito to exhaust herself and attempts to fight back.

Shield Bash, Shield Charge, Disembowel, Vortex Swing. The names of the Skills he triggers pop up in tiny notifications from Ali, each attack thwarted. But as Mikito ducks the spinning tornado that Emven�s last attack created, the Shield Guardian stomps, creating a minor earthquake. The attack only unbalances Mikito for a fraction of a second, but it�s sufficient for Emven to land a Shield Bash, disrupting Mikito�s balance further and stunning her.

The champion chains his attacks, each blow timed perfectly with a step, his movements keeping his body right next to the stunned Samurai. Her Ghost Armor bleeds light, cracking under the assault even as wide open wounds send splashes of crimson blood to the white sand.

�Inexperienced, as I said,� Asgauver says, almost smug satisfaction in his tone.

�Come on, Mikito,� Lana whispers, leaning forward and gripping her knees tightly.

I place a hand on hers, giving it a quick squeeze for reassurance. �I wouldn�t count her out yet.�

The halberd rises and comes crashing down, caught by Mikito�s naginata. But as she recovers, the shield is moving, smashing the body of her naginata into her body. A leg steps forward, striking the tiny Japanese woman�s knee and knocking her off balance, forcing her to block another strike. This one sends her tumbling to the ground, where she recovers with a roll. As Emven steps forward, an explosion of sand and smoke makes him blink, flame blinding him. When he recovers, Mikito is standing unsteadily, her weapon held sideways above her left shoulder.

�A good move. But not enough,� Quityan remarks.

Mikito�s down to five hundred Mana and barely four hundred health. Not enough, normally, for a powerful Skill. Of course, Emven�s Mana is in the low hundreds too, but his health is still two-thirds full.

I stay silent as Emven moves forward cautiously, Mikito holding still. It�s a stillness that sets the hair at the nape of my neck tingling, a tension which tightens my chest as primal fears rise up. Emven sees it, moving cautiously, but he can�t delay too long. Each moment allows Mikito�s greater regeneration levels to top up her Mana. And so he nears her, his halberd moving forward in low feints which elicit no response.

With a roar, the champion stabs the halberd forward, the weapon shooting its beam of purple energy at Mikito. The Samurai moves then, flashing forward as her naginata arcs downward, cutting through Emven�s shield and armor in a single motion. Emven staggers backward, his arm and halberd clattering to the ground as gravity takes hold and he slumps. Mikito herself sways, her health down to fourteen percent as she sacrifices her life for Mana.

The crowd exclaims around us, in multiple voices and languages.

�It is called Gi,� Asgauver says, surprise tingeing his voice.

�The first tenet of Bushido.� I lean back in my chair, a little of the tension I felt for my friend draining away as I read the details of the Skill Ali displays.

Gi (Exclusive Skill)

The Samurai exemplifies commitment with their next attack. A single strike, without hesitation or doubt, with full commitment must be made. If completed, the Samurai can deal significantly more damage in exchange for their own life.

Effect: Doubles Base Damage of attack. Health of user may be traded for damage dealt to recipient at a 1:1 ratio, but user must decide on amount of health traded before attack is made.

Cost: 200 Mana

Asgauver laughs, roaring in amusement, followed by everyone else. The group cheers, chatting about the battle. Lana stares at those around us, her eyes wide.

�Aren�t you worried about your friend? He lost his arm,� Lana says.

�Better than a head. They�ll reattach it and he�ll be ready for battle in a few hours,� Quityan says, waving away her protests. �Pity it�s a friendly match though. In a title fight, they�d continue until one really lost.�

�He lost his arm!� Lana sputters.

�Emven can fight without it,� Quityan replies unconcernedly. �He�s an elite member of the Fist. If he couldn�t fight without an arm, he wouldn�t deserve to be on the team.�

Lana shakes her head, looking toward me for support. I smile slightly at the redhead, shaking my head. She looks disappointed by my reaction, and truth be told, I am in hers. But then, she hasn�t spent the last four years in a Forbidden Zone. I can�t even count the number of limbs I�ve lost over the years.

�I find myself looking forward to our fight now,� Asgauver says, his wide mouth pulling apart to show those large teeth. I can�t help but notice that he probably could fit my entire arm in his mouth without a problem.

�Me too.�

No surprise our fight is at the end of the day, as the sun begins to set. Attempts by Lana and Ali to bring the discussion toward the reason for our visit�to an alliance or agreement for their vote�are firmly and politely rebuffed. After her return, Mikito is swarmed by the attendees, many requesting to see her weapon. All are rebuffed. None take offense, understanding the reluctance of a warrior to show a personal weapon, which is for the best. We can only hope that they�ll be fooled by the information we have left public, assuaging their interest in the weapon when they buy it from the Shop. If they do.

With no progress on the actual point of our visit, I find myself standing on the sand, knowing it�s likely the results of this match will dictate how much progress we make today. The arena is surprisingly quiet, the roar of the crowd a muted buzz in the background. The light within is just right, diffused and soft so that it never gets in the way. The sand gives way slightly, a bit more unsteady than I�d prefer but nothing so loose as to make purchase impossible. And the smell� well, the smell is of old blood, sour sweat, spent adrenaline, and other, more exotic chemicals.

I find myself raising my sword to my head, offering Asgauver a salute. It suits the mood; it suits the stadium. And it obviously suits the audience, as roars erupt. The werehippo before is big, tough and a Master Class with more years at fighting than I have. Odds of me winning are an astounding nine-to-one. Odds of me lasting one minute is seven-to-one. Barely better.

Pity I can�t bet on myself.

The chime, the slight shift in light and the referee�s voice is all the signal which is needed. Asgauver dashes forward, his movement so explosive a hole is left behind him as his strength is focused on approaching me. The giant monstrous hippo is here before I can dodge, but then, I wasn�t trying to. A single step takes me within the arc of his torso-sized fist and I raise my own, palm out. It hits his giant nose, squishing it slightly as my legs flex and I�m forced backward. A part of me reaches out backward, reinforcing the sand I�m standing on while my body braces against his attack. On a pure point basis, Asgauver probably has a higher Strength stat than me, but he doesn�t know how to use it, doesn�t know how to apply it fully. In the air, my arm extended before my body, Asgauver slams into the equivalent of an unmoveable object and bounces backward.

The hush from the stadium is gratifying. I grin, shaking my hand slightly while keeping my face smooth. The shake also hides the minor trembles going through my arm as over-abused nerves and a cracked shoulder joint slowly regenerate.

�Impressive!� Asgauver roars as he rolls himself upward, laughing as blood pours from his two large nostrils. He swabs at the blood with one hand, stomping the ground as if to set himself. A second later, his fists shimmer, fields of energy wrapping around them and setting my teeth on edge. �But a trick is trick.�

�Then let�s dance,� I say and salute him once more.

When the werehippo approaches again, this time it�s with a lot more caution.

�Done. Yet?� I say as I husband my breath. A flick of my sword sends droplets of blood flying, recoating the white sand with the Kudaya�s blood.

�And stop all this fun? Never!� Asgauver says but ends up coughing and spitting a gob of blood.

The damn hippo is covered in cuts and stabs, my attacks having scored and torn at the monster again and again. But his Class is an upgrade of your typical Guardian, a tank which can absorb punishment and turn it into Stamina, Mana, and yes, even Health. He�s a juggernaut who just keeps ticking, no matter how much I damage him. His health keeps sliding upward, now at sixty percent, yo-yoing with his Mana.

The last thirty minutes has seen me go from using Spells and Skills to cut him down to a more husbanded approach. None of my Spells harm him, not even Enhanced Lightning. His resistances are high, his Class Skills making the little damage that leaks through negligible and even helpful to him. Next, I switched to more mundane attacks, backed up with the Thousand Blades. He ran through the blades, using his greater bulk and defenses to punch his way through them.

And punch he can. His Title is not for show. Boneshaker. His fist, encased in a wall of sonic attacks, hurts even when I block or dodge. My entire body feels as if it�s been holding on to a jackhammer for the whole day, my tongue a mess after having been accidentally bit so many times I almost consider a ball gag. My health is down to about forty percent, my Mana doing better at seventy. But Mana�s useless because my attacks just don�t do enough damage, not against him.

�Fine,� I growl and beckon the Kudaya on.

He rushes forward and I meet his fist with blades, a pair in hand as I dance and duck, my teeth and bones shuddering at near misses, my blades cutting into tough flesh. I have to use bigger motions, twisting and pushing against Asgauver�s Skill that robs my attacks of momentum, that threaten to stick my blades. I have to duck and dodge, stabbing and moving, my Stamina slowly grinding down, along with my health.

I fall for a feint of a retracted straight, the hand returning and dropping straight down. I get my sword up in time, but it doesn�t matter. The hippo drops his body, crushing me beneath his bulk. The earth flattens beneath me, a depression forming as Asgauver activates a Skill which triples his weight. I cough out blood, crushed and trapped.

And I have him exactly where I want him.

As the Kudaya pins my arm with one hand, the other rising to crush my face, I focus. Portals take a few precious moments to appear, the time required depending on the distance. And the interference at the other end. In this case, the other end of the Portal isn�t far. Just a hundred fifty feet or so. Directly above me. And the first one is directly below me.

We fall through the Portal and appear above where we were, above the arena and its exclusion from the quantum lock surrounding Tobago. Pain erupts through my body as molecules which were meant to align after teleportation get shifted ever so slightly, the System helping to fix the damage after having enforced the initial damage in the first place. We fall, picking up speed, and I fend off one more punch before Blink Stepping away from the damn Kudaya, just a couple of feet away so that I can nudge him back into the center of the Portal.

�Give up?� I shout.

�Never!�

Asgauver falls, twisting in the air, and hits the open Portal and reappears high above the arena to take damage again. And drops downward as gravity takes effect, falling through the Portal again to reappear above, his speed ever increasing. As for me, I stand to the side of the open Portal and focus, keeping an eye on the stubborn hippo�s health, occasionally using my spells to bounce him back into the center.

Once again, the silence through the stadium tells me I might have stunned the crowd. This time, when the noise comes back, it�s more muted, less boisterous. I might win, but I obviously didn�t win the �right� way.

�I told you you needed more movement Skills,� Quityan is saying to Asgauver.

The giant hippo is less boisterous now, arms crossed, his lips twisted upward in what I would call a snarl while the jaws move, masticating food. Once the Kudaya had finally been deemed too damaged to continue, I closed the Portals. Since then, the Kudaya has yet to say a damn word to me.

�You might have overdone it,� Lana says, elbowing me in the ribs. �You could have given up after putting on a good show.�

�Bugger him if he can�t take losing,� Ali says, playing with a string of glittering little spheres on a vine before he pops one into his mouth. �He shouldn�t have mocked boy-o.�

�He�ll get over it,� I say semi-confidently.

Whether he likes it or not, the System seems to agree that the win was mine, dumping a ton of experience onto me. It�s one of the facets of an arena which makes it popular. Everyone watching within the arena makes a minor experience donation. It�s generally pretty low per person, but with so many attendees, the amount stored and distributed is significant. As the headline act, the two of us receive a large chunk of the experience siphoned off during the day. As the winner, I get an even larger portion, enough so that I skip two Levels, putting me at Level 18. I�d assign my attributes and Skills, but it�d be considered rude to do so right now. No rush really.

Mikito nods, then grins slightly. �John could always beat him into it anyway.�

I cough as Quityan shoots us a look, obviously having heard Mikito. But she has a point. This is the Fist after all. In fact, I probably should have just wagered their vote on the fight, but truth be told, I hadn�t been that confident I�d win. If he had a Flight or other movement spell he could have used in mid-air, he would have been fine.

Lana rolls her eyes but stops when she sees another well-wisher come up. As usual, they greet Mikito first then me, congratulating us on our arena battles. Once again, I feel the undercurrent of disrespect, a dislike for my methods. By the time he�s gone�after extending another invitation to Mikito for a fight at a later date�Quityan is next to us.

�My apologies. Asgauver does not like losing. He�ll be better after he�s healed. His Skill takes a lot from him, no matter what he says,� Quityan says, looking back at the large hippo with a tenderness in his eyes that I didn�t expect.

I blink, thinking back to the casual touches, the body language� huh. Well, how would it work? After a moment, I wish I could scrub my brain.

�At a later date. If you�re willing?�

�Pardon?� I say, shaking my head. I rewind his words in my brain and catch up. �Oh. Yes, definitely. We do need your votes.�

�And you�ll have them. For a few small considerations.� There�s a slight pause before Quityan adds, �We seek little from your world, but individuals are interesting. Your strength, your experience in the Forbidden Zone��

I nod slightly, mentally wincing. Right. I know now where this is going. They�ll want details, explanations of monsters and my experiences. Might even want me to go on a trip with them to a zone, just to power-Level themselves once again. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he speaks.

�Of course. Tomorrow then?� I say.

�Tomorrow,� Quityan says. �If you�d like, I can have you shown to your rooms. You must be tired.�

Murmured agreements ring out. Lana begs out too, indicating a desire to take her pets for a run. Her words elicits another delay as others offer to show her to a nearby dungeon. In the midst of the hubbub, Mikito and I extract ourselves, glad to leave the fight-crazy Fists alone.

�So how�d you do?� I ask. �On your wagers.�

�About forty thousand Credits down,� Mikito says happily. �Be better if I had bet on you winning like I thought you would.�

�You bet on me losing?� I groused.

�Well, I didn�t want to jinx you,� Mikito replies, eyes twinkling.

Silence extends between us before we break out in laughter, the attendant showing us the way to our temporary accommodations staring at us as if we�re crazy. The look the attendant gives us only drives us to laugh harder.

Chapter 14

�When you said you wanted to spend some time together, I was thinking a nice gastropub. Or maybe a yoga session,� Aiden, the skinny-jeans-wearing, goateed, manbun Mage, mutters. His hand twists and a lamppost bends and catches the flying monkey creature in mid-air, crushing it. At the same time, his other hand swings a wand, carving runes of light in the air, which float away to stack up in front of him.

�This is a lot more fun,� I say, impaling another downed monkey.

Hitting open settlements and dungeons have become a thing in the last couple of weeks, between conversations with panicked humans and snooty Galactics. I�ve stepped back somewhat from negotiating with settlement owners while I wait for more information, letting Lana and Katherine take the lead. Part of the reason we�re out as often though is because many of the completed deals have included helping out with dungeon population control, monster swarms, and sweeping areas to develop new land. So going out and killing monsters has actually helped strengthen our negotiation power as we show we�re not all talk. I do get moments of d�j� vu though, when I Portal in another attack team to another strange city before traveling to the next damn location to do the same again. At least this time I�ve got access to much faster transportation.

All this fighting has provided a nice boost to my experience bar, gaining me another Level. In many ways, my Leveling speed is a bit ridiculous, but I did just spend four years fighting over-Leveled monsters on an on-going basis, so the resulting banked experience is significant. At some point, the banked experience will run out, but for now, I won�t be complaining.

�Your definition of fun needs work,� Lana calls, shotgun in hand. She hasn�t shot it yet, mostly because the Aura of the Red Queen which surrounds her is sufficient to keep the monsters away. That, and her pets do a bang-up job of taking down anything that even remotely threatens her. Her griffin is particularly frightening, though right now, the griffin�s fighting a pair of flying snake-like creatures.

�Come on, this is a walk in the park,� I say.

�I have a Fireball,� Aiden says, holding up his hand.

�I do not understand,� Capstan growls between taking shots at the flying monkeys. They mostly bounce off the temporary force shields the Yerrick have erected around our Portal site, only a few managing to make their way through the gaps the Yerrick have positioned.

Every second, more Adventurers are streaming in from Vancouver, parties gathering and receiving their marching orders from Capstan�s people while Carlos hands out small bags filled with his latest creations.

�We�re in El Chaten, which is located in Los Glaciares National Park. John was punning with the idiom,� Aiden says, his left hand still not stopping. �Nearly��

�What are you casting?� Lana says, cocking her head to the side.

�A localized teleportation spell which is anchored here and linked to my life signs with a secondary healing and regeneration component,� Aiden says as he jabs the wand forward.

The last rune floats into the air, coalescing into a giant ball of spinning light before it splits into two parts. The smaller portion strikes Aiden in his chest, the larger sinking into the ground, where it disperses and embeds itself, leaving runic marks that slowly fade away.

�Whoa�� I say, looking at Aiden with admiration. �We can do that?�

�I can,� Aiden says, shaking his head. �It�s a ritual spell which takes about a week to cast. What you saw was just the engagement process.�

I blink, scratching the spell off the list of things I needed for regular dungeon runs. Still impressive though.

�Mikito not here?� Aiden asks.

�No. She�s running another dungeon.�

�With the champions?�

�No. Americans,� Lana adds unhappily. �Howard says the borders are secure. Nothing major in the next few blocks, though he smelled something disturbing on the other side of town. Howard�s insisting someone else do the killing as he doesn�t want to bite it.�

Her words gets a chuckle from Capstan before he barks a few orders. A party of Yerrick run up and are soon sent off to meet with the reluctant pony-sized puppy, Ali helpfully supplying everyone with coordinates. The Spirit is standing next to the Portal, tagging all the newcomers and sharing updated information maps. It still amazes me how smart Lana�s pets have gotten. It�s rather frightening the Level of power she can wield. Each of her animals is nearly the same strength as an equivalent Leveled individual, making Lana a walking party by herself. It makes her Class over-powered in some ways, but also a bit lopsided. It�d take a single semi-skilled assassin to take her out.

While everyone else is busy, I�m just holding the Portal open, so I take a moment to look around. The earth and our surroundings are all dusty brown, dry in the Argentinian summer. The mountains which ring the tiny town have the lightest of remnants of snow, a stark contrast to the unceasing whiteness of the Yukon this time of year. Most of the�few�buildings around us are broken down, missing windows and occasional walls, weird pitted holes and half-dissolved bricks opening up the interiors. Even the asphalt is damaged, torn up and melted, giving further clues as to the cause of destruction. Monsters. Lots of monsters.

While the town itself hasn�t become a dungeon, it�s a Level 80-plus zone out at the borders with obviously higher Level zones as you move further in. The town once thrived post-apocalypse but made the crucial mistake of not consistently clearing the surrounding alphas and dungeons, leading to a monster swarm which promptly killed everyone. Since then, no one�s taken the town, leaving it unclaimed. It probably didn�t help that there�s literally nothing connected to it for hundreds of kilometers. Of course, the lack of access is partly why it�s the perfect settlement for us to claim back.

�You sure about this, Capstan?� I say again, frowning at the big minotaur.

He chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder. �Whitehorse cannot hold all three clans which have arrived. With support from you and Lord Roxley, we should be able to develop this Village quickly. And I understand the Spear will be leading the champions to clear a few dungeons next week. We will be fine.�

�Fine,� I say. A moment later, I get the all-clear from our last entrant into our game of whack a monster. I drop the Portal, glancing at my slowly regenerating Mana, and tap Aiden on the shoulder. �You�re with us.�

�Dungeon clearing?�

�Yup. There�s a Level 90 dungeon which needs clearing,� I say and point in the right direction.

Aiden grumbles, more out of habit than actual objection it seems, as he follows along. Capstan and Nelia fall in with us after Capstan finishes speaking with the other Fist�a shorter female minotaur who wields a whip and Gatling gun. Lana refuses to come, busy running her puppies and coordinating with the new settlement owner.

Our tiny party makes it about a hundred meters away from town before Ingrid makes her appearance next to us, letting the others know of her presence.

�Ms. Starling,� Aiden exclaims. �I did not expect you here. Lana said you weren�t coming.�

Ingrid sniffs. �Lana�s stuck-up and judgmental. I figured I�d hitch a ride quietly. It�s been ages since I�ve done a proper dungeon delve.�

�You�re welcome to come along,� I say with a chuckle, my invitation echoed by the Yerrick.

With Ingrid settled, we pick up the pace, headed for the dungeon. Should be a breeze, with the group as it stands.

One of the things any Adventurer learns about dungeons is that they don�t hold to the normal laws of physics. Given enough Mana, dungeons have a tendency to warp the space around them, like a heavy meal ball on cheesecloth, stretching it under its weight and density. The dungeon we enter is a simple cave from the outside, but inside, it transforms to something truly immense, large enough to rival the Mammoth Cave system perhaps. As we delve, the initial few rooms are filled with poisoned fungi, warped insects, and mutated bats. Easy kills. Pedestrian even. Afterwards, things get disgusting.

�Acid slimes,� I announce, swiping the dripping mucous-like substance from my Soul Shield.

The corpse of the slime slowly dissolves, its Mana core destroyed.

�Flammable oil slimes here,� Aiden says, floating as he sprays his own opponents with a burst of freezing cold from his arm. Beneath him, the slimes twist and stretch in an attempt to reach the mage.

�Acid,� Nelia calls, her hands shifting as roots explode upward from the ground, piercing the slimes and draining them of their fluids, leaving crystalline remnants and Mana stones.

�More fire slimes,� Capstan growls. The large Yerrick looks to be the most perturbed, his usual loadout less than useful against these gelatinous opponents. Even so, he brute-forces his attacks, slamming his axe on a slime and using the concussive force of his attack to blast the slime�s body apart.

�Gah. I feel like I�m in a bad Japanese porn video.� I shake my head and cast a Blade Strike to rip apart a trio of slimes who drop from the ceiling right above me. Positioned as I am in front of everyone, I�m being swarmed, the slimes preferring to go for quantity over quality. As my Soul Shield keeps ticking down no matter how damn many of these things I kill is a good sign it�d work if we gave them enough time.

�Think you�re repeating yourself there,� Ingrid says with a chuckle before fading out of sight to reposition.

�Repeat?� Capstan swings his axe and sends out a burning energy strike from the head of it.

�Girlie means there ain�t no good Japanese porn. Repeating bad and Japanese, see?� Ali explains happily.

�That�s not what I meant!�

�Aiden,� I call to the mage, ignoring the byplay.

The Mage rolls his eyes but turns toward me, casting Polar Zone centered around my body. I watch as he does so, my Mana Sight wide open as I study the way the spell twists and shapes Mana in front of me, altering the temperature in my surroundings. Aiden abbreviates some of what would be the normal casting method, short-cutting sections and replacing it with knots in other areas, the final spell-form different from that which I purchased. Different and so much more powerful.

The temperature drops by dozens of degrees in a second, the spell sweeping over all of us. Acid slimes freeze from their edges inward, their struggles shattering their gelatinous bodies and exposing unfrozen parts to the cold, speeding up their demise. Within tens of seconds, the monsters are dead and Aiden cuts the spell. Not a moment too soon�my own Soul Shield has fallen, exposing me to the full effects of the Spell. Not that I can�t take the damage.

�Damn�� Ali says, eyeing the numerous, fallen Mana stones �Someone�s been working out.�

�Thanks, Aiden,� I say, grinning at the Mage. It was the right decision, conning the man into coming along. His wide-scale area effect Spells will be useful against the wide variety of slimes that have been reported in this dungeon.

Once Nelia drops a drone to do the pickup of the Mana stones, we head in deeper to hunt down the remainder of the monsters. And of course, the dungeon boss.

�That�s not a slime,� I say, staring at the dungeon boss.

�Well, it technically is,� Aiden mutters, his eyes narrowing. �Those crystals that make up its body are slime cores. We�re going to need to shatter or separate each of those cores. I�d also assume that a large enough portion broken from the main body would still be functional.�

�So. Weird,� I mutter.

Crystalline Slime Hive (Dungeon Boss Level 94)

HP: 18318/18318

MP: 7337/7868

Conditions: Hivemind, Ablative Armor, Dispersed Core

�Har. Better than a titan slime,� Yerrick says with a snort, hefting his axe. �My sire fought one of those before on Regis III. Burnt off all his fur, ate his hand and one horn before he blasted it apart.�

I shudder at the description, my mind considering what a slime thirty or forty feet tall would be like. The maintenance bill of dealing with one of those things must be ridiculous. Especially if it ate you.

�So, recommendations?� I ask while the party splits apart.

Nelia stays close to Aiden, her hands weaving as she piles together new roots and earthen walls to protect the pair of them while Capstan and I flank the creature. I�m assuming Ingrid�s somewhere around, waiting for her chance to do some real damage.

�Hit it hard, shatter it. Then we�ll use area effect spells to mop up the shards,� Capstan says after a moment�s consideration.

The creature is just standing there, little pools of slime swirling around its body.

The moment he finishes speaking, Ingrid drops out of the shadow plane to launch her attacks with her blades. Each strike digs into the body, shattering a core, but doesn�t penetrate. As she finishes her first flurry, the slime rises from the ground and wraps tendrils around her body. Ingrid throws herself backward, breaking free briefly, though the remaining pieces of slime continue to burn her legs. I eye the monster�s health and wince, noting how Ingrid�s barely done more than a few hundred points of damage. This could take a bit.

Capstan charges, using the distraction my Blade Strikes generate to close the distance and smash his axe into the creature�s side. It pierces a foot into the creature�s torso before it gets stuck. As Capstan tries to yank it backward, the Mana stones shift, trapping the axe head.

�Mine!� Capstan growls, his body glowing red. But the increased Strength from his Skill is insufficient, and already the pool of slime is attacking him like it did Ingrid. Wisps of smoke rise from his feet.

�I�m feeling neglected here,� I mutter and form more blades with a thought.

I get ready to swing a massed Blade Strike when instinct has me duck. From all around the cavern, globules of slime fire from the wall, splashing against shields, bodies, and the ground.

�Owww!� Aiden snarls, his casting interrupted as one globule somehow manages to make it past the Mage�s Mana Shield.

He raises his hand, reforming and reinforcing his shield, while Nelia works her magic to plug up holes in their joint defense. The wide-ranging, indiscriminate attack also hit the stealthed Ingrid, her body forced out of the shadows, smoking and bleeding.

�Someone kill that thing!� Ingrid says as she ducks another shot.

Worryingly, some of the Mana stones that were initially chipped off from Ingrid�s and my attacks are forming new slimes, each of which turn to attack us.

�Working on it,� I growl and skip the upgraded attack to go for the ultimate�Army of One. The formed blades shift automatically, giving themselves more space as beams of force shoot outward. Thirteen strikes, each of them twice as powerful as normal, hammer into the body of the giant Crystalline Slime Hive, shattering pieces off it. I can�t help but smirk, noting how much more damage I can do with my Penetrate Master Skill added to my attacks.

�My turn,� Aiden says. Instead of attempting a single large-scale spell, the mage flicks and twirls his wand again and again. Small fireballs fly, each about half the size of the one I cast. In seconds, dozens are hovering before the Elemental Mage.

�Don�t!�

Ingrid�s panicked shout reaches our ears, but no one has time to answer the Assassin. We�re all throwing up our own defenses or activating defensive Skills as we ready for the oncoming blast.

When the fireballs land, the flame-filled explosion rocks us during the initial hit and again when the walls of the dungeon compress the explosion inward. And then outward again, the concussive force finding few escapes in this enclosed cavern. My newly recreated Soul Shield fails, my armor barely useful as my flesh cooks and my hair burns off. Even through my resistance, I see hundreds of health points drop, my body burning for what seems like eternity.

Then silence.

�Everyone still alive?� I cough around the smoke, my throat dry.

A low pair of rumbles from the Yerrick indicate their well-being. Ali pops back out of the semi-dimension he�s used to and I realize my instincts failed me this time. Having not used the Quantum State Manipulator for so long, I�d forgotten I even had it. I frown, realizing that both Aiden and Ingrid are silent, which is a bit concerning. Less so with the former, since it was his spell. But�

�Oops,� Aiden croaks, his clothing smoking slightly as he pushes his way out of the earth-and-ash fortress. �Forgot we were in a cave��

�Baka!� Ingrid reappears behind Aiden, smacking him on the back of the head.

The Mage staggers, rubbing his head, and blinks. �How did you do that?�

�Reaper�s Touch. It�s a Skill that lets me ignore Shields.�

�New?� I ask, and Ingrid nods.

�It�s an exclusive Class Skill, but it�s worth it.� The Assassin�s eyes grow dark as I recall Ikael�s assassination.

His layering of multiple Shields thwarted her first flurry of attacks, putting her in greater danger than normal. With this Skill, she could bypass some of the problems. How much, I don�t know. Since it�s an exclusive Skill, the details aren�t exactly on the public System net, which means I�d have to buy it if I was really curious.

Ali, smirking at the pair�s antics, says, �Oy! I haven�t received an experience notification that the Boss is down.�

�What?�

We spin back toward the smoking center of the cavern where it�s true, Mana Stones smoke and hiss but are intact. As we watch, a few roll back together, joining into smaller clumps. As everyone aims their weapons and spells at the ground, I note something more disturbing on my minimap.

�Incoming!� I warn. Dozens of fast-moving dots are converging on us in my map. With a thought, the minimap in my vision enlarges, giving me a clearer view of the surroundings, but it�s of little use since the damn slimes seem to be moving through the walls as far as the map is concerned. �A lot of incoming. Get away from the walls.�

Everyone moves to comply, Nelia using a solid earth equivalent of my Mud Walls to sweep the slime cores aside as we rush forward. Simultaneously, the first of the slime reinforcements appear, many of them splattering as we blast, cut, and freeze their bodies apart. Surprisingly, the cores which have survived race toward the largest concentration of slime core shards and join together with them.

�It�s regenerating,� Ali says, wonder in his voice. �I�ve got to record this.�

�Record later. Electricity now!� I snap, raising my hand.

Ali ignores me, which annoys me, but I don�t have time to focus on him. Instead, I pull on my Mana, the spell formulae and the Mana forms twisting around in my mind and around my extended hand as I cast Lightning Strike. It�s my own modification of the Spell, an Enhanced version, as I reach outward and inward at the same time for my Elemental Affinity.

Electromagnetic Force, one of the four principle forces that form our universe. While the System might break the rules, while Mana seems to be the fifth overlying force over everything, the laws that they break still exist. My affinity, gifted from my Link to Ali, allows me to sense, feel, and yes, manipulate it. In the four years I was away, I explored the use of this affinity even further, but in this instance, the basic Enhanced Lightning Strike is sufficient. I let it rampage a little more than normal, expanding its range of motion by relaxing the pathways I normally control and increasing the differences in charge at the slime cores.

I play the lightning across the ground, feeling the electricity jump and ground, burning and crisping even as my Mana drops and drops. But it�s working�the Slime Boss is taking damage faster than it can recover. It works. Until the ground under us gives way, cutting off my spell and dropping us in a pool of goop.

�Ugh!� Ali says, safely in the air. He stares as the rest of us floundering in the suddenly formed pool of slime, our skin burning as the slime grips our bodies and attempts to drag us deeper.

By the time Nelia manages to use her spells to drain the slime and reinforce the newly created crater�s walls to ensure we aren�t surprised again, the Boss has reformed.

�I�m really beginning to hate this dungeon,� Ingrid says as she pours a bottle of Greater Healing across her face, the enchanted potion healing the red and raw skin while neutralizing the slime.

�Agreed,� Capstan growls.

I look at the now nearly nude monster, his fur repeatedly burnt and scorched off. Even as I watch, patches grow out as the Yerrick�s regeneration kicks in.

�I don�t think we�re going to be able to win this quickly. I will conserve Mana for a long battle.� Neila suits action to words as she casts a Group Healing Pulse on us all, a long-term healing spell.

�Ditto.� Aiden waves his hand, a small floating blue ball forming above his head. When a slime core rolls closer toward us, it sends a single Mana dart at it. A few seconds later, the Mage has cast a second sphere as he begins to ring our new defensive position with these spheres.

�And I�ll�� I shrug and jump out of the pit, realizing I�m out of witty things to say. �Kill it.�

Later on that evening, we�re seated at the newly rebuilt City Center with Carlos, Lana, and the rest of the settlement team. Capstan is regaling those interested with the story of our fight, seeming to take great pleasure in emphasizing the disgusting aspects in particular. As for me, I�m seated in my own corner, tucking into the slab of Auroch ribs the Yerrick have kindly supplied me with, along with the bowl of mashed potatoes that have been drowned in gravy.

�May I join you?� Lana says, gesturing to a seat across from me.

Ingrid, who is seated beside me, looks at Lana and nods companionably if slightly coldly. The redhead returns the nod, but I can tell there�s a distance now between the two. Still, at my assent, Lana sits down without seeming too discomfited.

�It should take the Yerrick about a week to get settled and meet the Town requirements,� Lana says. �I believe that puts us at just over twenty-two percent of the vote. We�re still working on some of the other settlement owners in Africa, but our ability to field a focused and effective fighting force and our ties to the Hakarta, Erethrans, and Yerrick have convinced many we can provide the security they�re looking for.

�But we still haven�t heard from Roxley. Or Wynn. And Rob and Bipasha are at loggerheads over the candidacy. If the situation continues, we might need both Roxley and Wynn for any chance at this.�

�Wynn has requested more time. And Roxley�� I frown, shrugging. �He�s been quiet so far, but he did get us those two votes from the Okres.�

Lana makes a face, obviously less than impressed. I am too, since the Okres were basically a group of slightly more civilized ogres. But at least they don�t eat their enemies, and right now, we need every vote we can get. It�s a compromise which grates, but it�s one I�ll live with. At least this way we�ve managed to get them to banish their human criminals to us rather than the wilderness. It�s not a perfect solution, since a good two-thirds of their criminals are real asses, but the third we save for not finishing all their food or not training in the town square every day makes it worth it. Or so I tell myself.

�Nothing like the actual votes of the Movana,� Lana says before she puffs out a breath. �We won�t be able to get all the human settlement votes on our side. We need to speed up our discussions with the Galactics.�

�I�m assuming you have a recommendation?� I say.

Lana nods. Her hand shifts and a list is sent to me. �I�ve spoken with Kim and Ali as well as Ayuri. Based on their information and analysis, this is how I recommend we tackle it.�

I look over the list, then I note Ingrid is staring at us instead of blankly into space. With a mental twitch, I share the information with the Assassin, who flashes me a smile. Lana�s eyes narrow slightly but she doesn�t protest, so I don�t bring it up. I don�t have time to deal with the pair of them.

�You�re handling the Artisan faction?� I say, looking at the meeting scheduled two days from now. �Should I be there?�

�No. Katherine and I are the better options,� Lana says. �I�ll bring Carlos too. They�re more likely to listen to those of us not active on the battlefields.�

�Like appreciates like?� I say with a smirk but shrug, accepting her analysis. It does leave me with a ton of individual meetings, most of them via telecommunications towers, though I see a few in-person meetings marked as required. �I assume Kim�s going to brief me before these?�

�Yes.� Lana sighs. �You know, this will be a lot easier if you could make up your mind between Rob and Bipasha.�

�I know.� I scan down the list and frown as something jumps out. �This doesn�t cover everyone.�

�No. Some are grouped, but the greyed names at the bottom, we won�t want to work with. Or they just don�t want to work with us,� Lana says.

Ingrid hums, tapping a few of the names and sending it over to us. �I know these asses. Want me to kill them?�

�You�re talking about murder,� Lana says coldly.

�When a state does it, it�s called good policy.� Ingrid grins at me. �Right, boss?�

I want to shout about not being dragged into this, but� �Can you?�

�Wouldn�t have offered if I couldn�t. But I will need some help,� Ingrid says.

Lana looks upset, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.

�Done. Talk to Kim,� I say, making a note which will download to Kim when we�re back in range.

Ingrid nods while Lana stares at the pair of us before she walks away without a word.

I watch the redhead disappear, my lips pursing slightly. �Maybe we should have had this talk another time.�

�She�ll get over it. Lana understands, but she�s still a middle-class white girl at heart,� Ingrid says, lips twisting wryly. �She still thinks, deep down, we can play nice. We�ve tried to keep her from getting her hands dirty, but it doesn�t mean she doesn�t need to know it�s happening.�

I switch my attention back to my food, which suddenly has lost its luster. A part of me wonders what happened to the innocent, quiet programmer I used to be. But another, more honest part of me knows I was never that empathetic. It�s perhaps my greatest strength and flaw in this world. I care, in the abstract.

Chapter 15

�We want another settlement,� the mantis-like creature on the opposite side of the projection demands for the umpteenth time.

�And we can help you take an open settlement. But you can�t hold it,� I say, folding my hands across one another.

�You will help.�

�Not going to happen.�

�Then we will not vote.�

�Okay,� I say and kill the connection with a thought.

�I think now�s when you come back with a counter-offer,� Ali says helpfully and sarcastically.

�Nope,� I say, shaking my head. �They�ll call back. It�s called playing hard ball.�

�And if they don�t?�

�They will.�

�And if they don�t?� Ali repeats.

�Then I find someone else, perhaps one of their neighbors, who wants two new settlements. And we kick their asses together,� I say heatedly.

�And time! Bits for brains, delay all calls,� Ali says. �Boy-o needs a blood sugar transfusion.�

�Oh, come on�� I growl, but Ali�s raised eyebrow makes me subside.

I sigh, fishing out some chocolates while Ali makes arrangements for a snack to arrive. Just because I�m angry doesn�t mean my blood sugar is low. I learned to regulate my blood sugar levels and those issues with the enhances in my Constitution a long time ago. A good thing too, since I ran out of chocolates in the first two months on the planet.

�Want to talk about it?� Ali says.

�No.�

�Good. I didn�t really want to listen.�

We sit quietly for a time before I finally break. �I hate this. The horse trading, the negotiations. It was so much easier earlier. When it was just our swords, our spells, our Skills. And I can see it in them, the greed, the desire to take everything they can just because we need it, I need it.�

�Way of the world, boy-o,� Ali says.

�Maybe. But I don�t have to like it,� I say softly. �And I don�t like how far I�m willing to go.�

�But you�re not going to change.�

�No.� I meet the Spirit�s eyes. There�s a shared understanding there, one we cannot speak about. Not here, not where others might learn of it. We both saw what would happen, could happen in the Forbidden Zone. The consequences of being too liberal with our knowledge, our goals. The price of failure. And the disastrous future which awaits every race, every planet. A world, racked with Mana, where even the callous benevolence of the System is missing.

�Eat,� Ali says softly. �Then we�ve got another four calls. Afterwards, we�ll run a dungeon for the evening till you grind that last level.�

I nod, staring at the thread of my experience bar. Just a little more, then I�ll hit Level 20. Just a little more. But first, a snack.

�I can have your settlement added to our trade list and the teleportation portal�s coordinates. We�ll also designate a minimum of two tons of the brew for your settlements,� I say, tapping my fingers slowly. �But you�re going to have to guarantee delivery of at least six tonnes of that Limehouse Barley you have there.�

�Five,� chirps the bird-like creature.

I�ve given up on names by now, beyond the usual glances at the floating information when I need to actually name it. It doesn�t help that Chirp here has a name I actually can�t say.

�Done. Contract will be on the way.�

�No. We won�t ban the Hakarta from this world.�

�They are untrustworthy and deceitful.� A merman speaks now, floating in inky darkness, illuminated only by the light of the communication screen. One thing they don�t tell you about the ocean is that it�s pitch black down there, if you get down far enough.

�Those words mean the same thing. But they already have a deal with us,� I say. �And three settlements.�

�Useless. I knew you were our enemies like them. We will burn you humans out!�

�Feel free to come after me. Or my settlements,� I say, leaning forward as my voice grows cold. �But touch a hair on any innocents and I�ll be coming for you.�

�You think I fear a new Master Class like you? We are the rulers of the ocean!�

�Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But in a year? Two? You�ve seen my Leveling speed. How long do you think it�s going to take for me to become a real threat?�

My threat shuts up the merman, gills at the side of his neck opening and closing as he flushes water out. Rather than speak�and really, it�s more of a mental command to an integrated communicator in his head�the notification cuts out.

I lean backward, huffing out a breath as I shake my head. Idiots. �Let�s add one of their settlements to the hit list, will you?�

�DONE.�

�Cancel that, bits for brains,� Ali says and crosses his arms, glaring at me. �You are not starting a war with the mermen. Not over one phone call.�

�They only have six settlements,� I say grumpily.

�Right now. Unless the Waz or the Loom arrive in greater number, they will have full run of your coasts. And unless you intend to go swimming constantly, there�s little you can do to slow them down,� Ali points out.

I can�t help but let out a little shudder. Months underwater? Ugh� �Fine. We�ll look into another way of dealing with them.�

�Good. And they were the last one,� Ali says. �But overall, well done.�

�No comments about how I handled myself today?� I blink, finding the sudden turnaround surprising.

�None from me,� Katherine speaks up from the door.

I blink, realizing I must be more tired than I thought to have missed her. Or else I unconsciously file her away as a non-threat.

�I�m surprised,� I say, scratching the side of my head. �I figured I was playing it too rough.�

�Do you think every party should be handled the same way?� Katherine smiles slightly as she walks forward. �Negotiations are multi-faceted, and the tactics employed differ depending on the party. Some, a more genteel approach is required. Others, a longer, slower, and more circuitous route��Katherine places a hand on her chest as she makes the last statement, almost as if indicating that�s her specialty��while others need a firm, some might even say aggressive, approach to get the best results.�

�You split the list to me for people I could pound on,� I say, my lips twitching upward slightly.

�Crudely put, yes. Though I would recommend some moderation. We are seeking allies, not enemies.�

�Fair enough.� I stand, stretching. �Did you need anything or�?�

�Just the casting portal at your desk. Kim informed me you intend to train?�

I nod and slip aside. Katherine walks over and casts a Chill spell on my chair before she sits down and adjusts it to ensure the vidcaster catches her just right. I smirk slightly at her vanity, then realize perhaps it�s not vanity. After all, looking good might actually be important. Or perhaps, giving off the right impression rather than looking �good.�

As I muse about the line between vanity and practicality in diplomacy, I wander out, headed for another dungeon and more violent concerns. Time to grind.

I spit out a tooth, grateful that one of the advantages of a greater-than-human Constitution is the replacement of teeth. Otherwise I�d be walking around with dentures, clicking them at little children on the street and giggling as they run away screaming. Actually, that doesn�t sound so bad�

�You can stop kicking it,� I say to Ali, the Spirit growling as he wails on the dead Ice Drake.

We�re near the edges of my domain, in the northern part of British Columbia where the Rockies meet, helping to trim down the number of monsters. Unfortunately, the dungeon I expected to find had actually been cleared by an enterprising group of Adventurers. Still, the Level 90 zone has enough regular monsters for me to get in some decent training.

�You overgrown pair of boots. You�re supposed to eat the human!� Ali growls, kicking the drake one last time before he makes it disappear in my Altered Space.

I get a notification a second later, laughing as I read Ali�s comments.

Wannabe-Dragon Hide (Drake Hide)

4 * Good Quality Pieces

11 * Damaged Pieces

Perfect for making a pair of high-quality boots

Wannabe-Dragon Teeth (Drake Teeth)

2 * High Quality pieces

Only desired by crazy alchemists and tasteless collectors.

�I figure that�s it?� I say, cocking my head at Ali.

The Spirit disgruntledly waves at me, and my notification belatedly blooms.

Congratulations! You have reached Level 20 as a Paladin of Erethra

Attribute gains automatically assigned. You have 67 free attribute points and 6 Class Skills.

Perfect. This time around, I look at my Class Skill options first. At Level 20, I get access to the second tier at last, which is all I�ll have access to till Level 40, when I�ll get the third and last tier. In some ways, having fewer tiers of Skills is actually better for me, since I�ll be able to focus my Class Skill points rather than having my Skills spread out like in my previous Class. It�s a good combination, versatility in my Advanced Class and more focus in my Master.

I still dump a point into every Skill available at this newly unlocked tier. Just because I want to focus doesn�t mean I don�t want a taste of everything first.

Beacon of the Angels (Level 1)

User calls down an atmospheric strike from the heavens, dealing damage over a wide area to all enemies within the beacon. The attack takes time to form, but once activated need not be concentrated upon for completion.

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the 20 meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

I�m rather tempted to toss another point into the Skill, but I�m a little concerned the attack might be limited to certain environments. Of course, this is the System, so while the Skill describes the attack as coming from the heavens, it might just port the attack into the center of a dungeon without tearing through the surroundings. It�s something I�ll have to check out, but I finally have my first area effect Skill. This is perfect for dealing with large groups of enemies. Especially since the damage is direct Mana damage, which bypasses most resistances.

Eye of the Storm (Level 1)

In the middle of the battlefield, the Paladin stands, seeking justice and offering judgment on all enemies. The winds of war will seek to draw both enemies and allies to you, their cruel flurries robbing enemies of their lives and bolstering the health and Mana of allies.

Effect: Eye of the Storm is an area effect buff and taunt. Psychic winds taunt enemies, forcing a Mental Resistance check to avoid attacking user. Enemies also receive 5 points of damage per second while within the influence of the Skill, with damage decreasing from the epicenter of the Skill. Allies receive a 5% increase in Mana and Health regeneration, decrease in effectiveness from Skill center. Eye of the Storm affects an area of 50 meters around the user.

Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second

Aura of Chivalry makes everyone look. Eye of the Storm makes everyone charge. It�s a nasty on-going taunt, though it�s not as powerful as a direct taunt Skill would be. But considering it�s on-going, does damage, and affects a wide area, I�m not complaining at all. It also has the side benefit of boosting health and Mana regeneration, though I do note there�s no indicator it can be stacked. That generally means it either won�t, or the benefit will be significantly lower. Better than nothing though.

Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 1)

Where others flee, the Paladin strides forward. Where the brave dare not advance, the Paladin charges. While the world burns, the Paladin still fights. The Paladin with this Skill is the vanguard of any fight, leading the charge against all of Erethra�s enemies.

Effect: +30 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 50% and recovery rates by 30%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute- and speed-boosting Skills or spells.

Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second

My first major Skill that uses Stamina. Most of those I purchase don�t use Stamina since I like not running out of breath and being too tired to move my arms in a fight. It�s amazing how many monsters and individuals go for the burst damage approach, then they get caught out after a few minutes and realize they can�t finish off their opponent. Vanguard is a nasty, nasty burst Skill, giving me a ton of benefits which can be stacked on top of other Skills and spells. But at the rate of drain, it�s something I only want to use in short bursts. It�s perfect for shattering a battle line, getting behind your opponents, and then getting down to business.

Society�s Web (Level 1)

Where the Eye of Insight provides the Paladin an understanding of the lies and mistruths told, Society�s Web shows the Paladin the intricate webs that tie individuals to one another. No alliance, no betrayal, no tangled web of lies will be hidden as each interaction weaves one another closer. While the Skill provides no detailed information, a skilled Paladin can infer much from the Web.

Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.

Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute

This is another of those Skills which I�m going to have to spend some time exploring. Thankfully, I can attempt to figure out what the heck it does outside of a dungeon. Though I�ll admit I�m curious to see what it does in a dungeon. I mean, do dungeon monsters have a social web? If so, what would it look like? But I picked up this Skill on a hunch it could be of use during the negotiation process rather than any expectation it�ll help me Level.

In truth, I�m finding that more of the important parts of my life are revolving around political and social battles than the next settlement or dungeon I have to clear. Sure, those are important, as my ability to kick ass and take land are the pillars which reinforce my ability to negotiate with political parties. They are not, in themselves, the orbit of my life anymore. In some ways, I�m grateful for the de-emphasis in violence in my life. While I�m scarily skilled at dishing out damage and calculating the flow of a battle, I spent too many years recently being nothing but a kill-monger. My future, our future, cannot be one soaked in blood.

With the Skill points allocated, I dismiss the Skill information. I still need to figure out what to do with my extra points, but I want to see the effects of these Skills first. Afterwards, assigning attributes is a simple enough matter. I�ve got such a large surplus of free attributes now, I can use them to iron out some of the areas I feel are lacking.

I start by adding a few points into Luck, Perception, Intelligence, and Strength. Luck because the gradual effect on loot drops generally pans out. I�ve noticed the difference between the quantity and quality between myself and Ingrid or Mikito, who both have focused on other Stats. It�s not exaggerated, but an extra high quality material or two every couple of drops does eventually add up.

Sadly, Luck, much like Wisdom, is one of those attributes I�ve yet to understand how to manipulate. It�s a failure of knowledge and understanding, of course. While I can, say, push my Perception to increase or dull my senses as needed, I�m not sure what I�m doing with Luck or Wisdom. And I�ll admit, I�m a bit concerned about testing out either.

Perception is easy enough to understand. In the middle of combat, I rarely have time to adjust how I�m shifting the emphasis of my attributes around, which makes a base higher stat important. It lets me keep up with speed builds like Mikito and, heck, my own body. As for Strength� well, if fighting the damn hippo was anything to go by, I still need to hit harder.

Once I�ve allocated over ten points to each of those attributes, I dump the remaining four points into Willpower because I desperately need more Mana Regeneration. All my recent purchases of Skills have seriously hampered it. In fact, I sometimes wonder if I would be better off increasing my Willpower more.

Once done, I pull up my character sheet to admire myself for a moment.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer

Health

3320

Stamina

3320

Mana

3100

Mana Regeneration

229 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

215

Agility

295

Constitution

332

Perception

160

Intelligence

310

Willpower

334

Charisma

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Analyze*

Harden*

Quantum Lock*

Elastic Skin*

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Mud Walls

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

�Now what, boy-o?�

�Find me another drake or two,� I say, grinning as I bounce on the balls of my feet. Best to test out my new attributes and get used to them now.

A look at the night sky which still shroud the mountains indicates I have maybe another couple of hours before dawn. Enough time to trim the population a little more.

�I said one or two,� I send to Ali as we crouch low, staring at the family of five drakes sleeping in the cavern. Damn Spirit even hid most of their signatures till I had sneaked into the cave, revealing the other three once I was within.

�Whine, whine, whine.�

I don�t bother answering the Spirit, rubbing my chin in thought. These aren�t shadow drakes, they�re astral drakes. From what I recall, they have lower hit points but are even sneakier, able to shift dimensions and attack while half-corporeal. It makes them incredibly tough to see when they�re active, making them powerful ambush predators. They even have a ranged attack of sorts, an attack which basically sends disruptive energy from the Astral plane into this world. The attack ignores most defenses, which makes it even more dangerous. A single astral drake would be a tough fight for any Advanced Class team.

Unfortunately for them, I�m not an Advanced Class any longer. And they�re asleep.

Step one, test Beacon of the Angels. Since the drakes chose a relatively high and steep cave to rest in, it makes the amount of earth the Skill has to blast through�if it does come straight from the heavens�minimal.

Rather than potentially wake the monsters with the use of Mana, I skip activating my usual complement of buffs. Instead, I focus within and reach into the new bundle of knowledge in my mind, caressing the information for a moment before I activate it.

Mana surges through my body, pulled from my pores in such a violent fashion it churns the air around me and reveals my location. The drakes wake even as my mind is cast thousands of meters into the night sky. I float, seeing the formation of the beam of light, and a part of me suddenly understands. I can let it come down like the wrath of a Greek god, a column of fire and flame, of the inexplicable force that is Mana, and let it destroy everything as it does. I can be flashy and make a statement, which is how a Paladin should do battle.

Or I can adjust the Skill, the attack coming from the heavens but manifesting only when it nears the ground. In this way, the attack will bypass the stone and trees and strike through terrain without damaging what is between, all for a minor loss in effectiveness. Subtler, but useful in an indoor fight.

I choose the latter of course. It all takes less than the blink of an eye, knowledge understood and decision made. The Skill manifests as a cylinder of pure energy, a column of destruction which burns and tears as it strikes. The drakes scream, thrashing as the Mana rages, while I channel a firestorm.

When the Beacon is over, the drakes are only just beginning to recover from the surprise attack before the firestorm lands, sweeping them up again in further hellish flame. Fast as I am though, a pair of drakes disappear into the Astral Plane.

I snarl, Blink Stepping into the center of the cavern, appearing on the shredded wing of one miserable, semi-conscious drake. I feel the space around me then shut it down, locking everything into place with the Quantum Lock Skill. The strain on my mind is incredible. The necessity of understanding and holding every single aspect of reality together is almost enough to make me buckle. Almost.

The pair that escaped are forced back by my Skill, reappearing in meat space halfway toward my ex-hiding spot. But I�m busy, chopping at the neck of the nearest drake, cutting into its burnt and dried flesh, blood dribbling out from the wounds and hissing in the volcanic heat of the cave. I spin, savaging its neck and moving within the periphery of its body, allowing the injured drake to block the attacks of the others. I grunt, staring at my dropping Mana bar.

I need to finish this. Fast. With a grin, I call upon the Vanguard of the Apocalypse. Immediately, I feel my attributes increase, my strength and speed growing even as I see each movement of my attackers even clearer. I can sense where attacks are going, almost chart each movement, as my sword appears in one hand and a beam pistol in the other.

The injured and enraged drakes, too angry to run and forced to fight in the cramped quarters of their cavern, are no match for me. I jump, run, and spin, cutting and stabbing with one hand and blasting with the other. It�s a dance through the dark, the cavern fitfully lit by the remaining flames from my previous attacks, the walls and floor of the cavern the canvas for my painting of blood and violence.

When it�s over, I�m left panting and on my knees, my Stamina drained, my Mana the barest sliver left. But I�m grinning. Because for all the pain and sorrow this world has brought, it�s also brought an understanding which I would never have received in the previous world. Among the winds of the apocalypse, I have found my place.

I use a full hour to test myself, pushing my body and my new Skills to the limit. For all my bitching at Ali, he�s right. The only way to improve is to push the boundaries, to test myself. Not with a single drake or two, but with a flight. To push and push until all there is is blood and pain, because it�s at the limits where you find yourself.

But as much as I might wish to train, to indulge my penchant for violence, the dawn comes. Time and responsibility grind inexorably onward, ignoring the needs and desires of pitiful mortals. After I pack up the Mountain Giant�s corpse, I look around the snow-covered land one last time then gesture, opening a Portal back to civilization and responsibility. Time to go.

Chapter 16

I Portal in, not back to my office but just off Granville Street in downtown Vancouver. The once-vibrant main street has become so again, shedding its mixture of hipster bars and sex stores for a more eclectic mixture of stores. Gyms cluster on the top floors, training grounds for those looking to brush up the edges of their skills. Everything is taught, from human martial arts to newer Galactic combat forms that focus on the development and integration of Skills. Below, retailers hawk their System-integrated wares, offering anything from monster-hide leather armor to combat and utility drones. I see a Potioneer flashing passersby as he hawks his wares from within his trench coat while a Busker plays for an appreciative audience of people who tip and wait for the buffs to take effect.

The street bustles with life, both Galactic and human. A small metallic ball rolls alongside a towering Yerrick, his green-skinned Hakarta date leaning into his arm with a smile and eye-popping cleavage. In a clothing store, a mother smacks her child�s hand, casually disarming him and taking away a newly bought survival knife. All around, Adventurers bustle and get ready for their next great expedition while others run their mundane routines, buying groceries and clothing, offering Skills and skills.

�Quite a difference, eh?� Ali says, walking beside me with a slight smile.

I cock my head to the side, considering his tone. I�m surprised to hear pride. Huh. Who�d have thought?

�WE HAVE SEEN A 14.3% INCREASE IN ANNUALIZED GDP IN THE LAST MONTH.�

�Nice�� I have nothing to say to Kim�s statement. It�s not as if I really understand what it means, beyond the obvious signs before me.

�Why�d we Portal back here, boy-o? Not that I mind getting out of the office, but��

�Skill training,� I say. A moment of focus and Society�s Web activates. All around me, glowing threads erupt, stunning me for a second. There�s so many, in such a wide variety of colors and sizes, it looks like a knitter�s stash after a barrel of kittens and a tornado had been let loose.

�Oy! I�m walking here,� Ali roars as he is nearly squished by a landing hover taxi.

My little brown man gets into a spirited argument with the driver while I stand stock still, taking in the new view. I admit, I struggle as I attempt to grasp the intricacies of my new Skill. The Skill is strange, with some individuals bursting with threads, some so thin they�re no larger than a spider�s web and others as wide as a door. The child has few threads, her thickest to her mother and a few other large ones spreading out of sight. All but one other�a thin, light grey thread which runs from her to me.

I look down and realize tens of thousands of these grey threads lead to my body. They overlap with other, brighter-colored threads that lead to me, but thankfully, when I concentrate, the grey threads become more prominent, pushing the colored threads to the background. Some of the grey threads are as thin as the child�s, others as thick as my wrist. With a shift in perception, I push away all the grey threads and focus on the others. I frown, focusing on a dark-red-and-green beam of light about three inches thick which moves toward the northeast.

Lana Pearson

Love, lust, debt, gratitude, jealousy, guilt, joy, confidence, pain�

I see, I sense the words, the emotions which I hold for her and her for me. I sense the long string of obligations incurred and the aid she has given me over the years, the unspoken social contract we�ve indulged in. Love, lust, guilt, and hurt. Favors traded, time employed. Kisses given and tears shed. It all comes to me, the weight and depth of our connection, stunning me as I realize something.

Thousand hells.

I�m an ass.

The thought is enough to pull me away from her beam of light, for me to regard my body. I cock my head to the side, one particular shiny black thread catching my attention. There�s a darkness to it that draws me close, forces me to focus.

Un Bair

Contract. Obligation. Death.

I shudder, feeling the coldness that radiates from the thread, and look to the side. My eyes widen, seeing the thread disappear into nothingness a bare foot away.

Then a pair of knives plunge into my chest, stealing my breath.

You are Poisoned!

47 Health per second

Duration: 8 Minutes, 9 Seconds

You are Poisoned!

Mana and Health Regeneration reduced by 18%

Duration: 11 Minutes, 12 Seconds

Dimension Locked

All movement skills which require teleportation are blocked

Mana Lock

Mana flow in your body has been disrupted. You are stunned for 3.8 seconds (resisted)

I stagger backward even as the daggers come out and plunge toward me again. The second attack hammers into the Greater Shield I trigger from the enchanted ring with a mental command, an act I can still take. It buys me a second as the blades skim and shatter the Shield before they pierce my chest again. The Poison notifications flash on my interface, resetting the clock as even more of the poison floods my system. Pain erupts through my body as my nerves finally catch up, even as the daggers are taken out again, flipped overhand, and plunged into the ball sockets of my shoulders. I scream as much as I�m able to, muscles locked as the Skill keeps me frozen.

Crippled!

You have received a crippling blow. You will not be able to use your arms until you are healed.

Three seconds might seem like a blink, but in a fight, it�s an eternity. As the blades rise again, his hands crossing as he moves to behead me, I feel a hand yank me away. Too slow to avoid the attack entirely though. The blades cross across my neck, leaving me gurgling on my blood.

Bleeding!

You have received a bleeding debuff. You will lose health so long as the wounds are not treated.

-3 Health per second

Warning! Health below 15%

�Oy!� Ali shouts as he pulls me away with one hand while he thrusts forward with the other.

The assassin doesn�t hesitate, a dagger punching toward Ali�s glowing red hand is wrapped with bolts of lightning. The attack lands, forcing the Spirit to lose control of the spell. The ensuing explosion of raw plasma released into air throws all of us apart.

My body tumbles, crashing into a pair of passersby. I try to push myself up, but my arms aren�t working and I uselessly flop to the side as I scramble to my feet. A hand grips my shoulder, hauling me to my feet while a green light bursts upon my body, healing wounds. I blink, tilting my head to see the mother with her child held behind her, bleeding from a head wound but focused on healing me.

�Come on there, no lying down on the job.� The rough hands which grip me belong to an older Adventurer, his face cragged and lined, his vest filled with potions of healing and stamina.

A part of me is trying to figure out why these people would risk their lives to help me, to step up when it�d be easier to hide. The other is scanning the surroundings, searching for signs of the assassin. I see nothing, not that I did before.

�Ali?�

�Son-of-a-Gremlin! Youch!�

�Master Class?�

�Definitely.�

I snarl, staring around me, waiting. But no matter where I look, how I look, I can�t see him. It�s obvious his stealth Skill is stronger than mine, even as I layer Soul Shield on myself.

Quantum Lock released.

I exhale harshly then Blink Step directly upward. A moment later, I�ve ascertained his thread leads off into the distance, fading away in the horizon. I briefly consider going after him as I fall to the ground, triggering my Flight spell to land lightly. I absently note the healing light has cut off, probably shaken by my abrupt motions. Better not follow him. If he�s as good as I think, I�ll be walking into a trap.

�Anyone hurt?� I say, looking around.

The older man stares at me as blood drips from my numerous wounds. The pain is pushed to the back of my mind, a part of me but not hampering my motions. The mother ignores my silly words, again bathing me in healing spell after healing spell. I incline my head in thanks while casting a Major Healing on myself too, pushing my health up to a quarter and giving me some movement in my arms.

�Other than me,� I clarify.

But I can see the answer is no. The violence, abrupt and explosive as it was, is taken in stride by many. Already, the hole in the ground is being patched by the System. Many others are brushing off their clothing, casting healing or cleanse spells or waiting for the System�s regeneration to fix them. It�s frightening how even the �civilian� population of my city has such a blas� attitude toward violence. Only a few glance at me curiously, and I can�t even say if it�s because I�m their technical settlement leader or the target of the attack.

�Thank you. Both of you,� I say.

My words get shrugs and muttered words of acceptance before they leave. I try to press Credits, gifts on them, but the pair refuses. As the mother guides her daughter away, I see the child look back and flash me a comforting smile. It�s a bit of a thunderbolt, that smile, one which pierces through the self-delusion I�ve created.

The lonely hero, perched above the throngs of humanity, their guardian and savior. The all-seeing protector is such a common depiction even I had taken it for truth. I�ve molded myself around the image, pursued the idea as if it were a truth I needed to grasp. I set myself apart from the members of the society that I wanted to protect. And only now do I realize what a lie it was. Because you can�t protect what you can�t understand, and you can�t understand without taking the time to know. And being above it all doesn�t just give you perspective; it makes you miss the details. In the end, it�s the details that are important.

The child who can smile after a moment of scary violence. A mother who will step forward to protect others even while her child stands by her side. The couple fighting and making up, their passion burning so bright it makes others mock them silently in jealousy. The daughter crying over the loss of her parents. The politician turning down a bribe. The good and bad which make up who we are.

Somewhere along the way, I�d forgotten this, missed it because I was too busy playing the cool, aloft hero. And only now do I understand. They don�t need another remote hero, a lord who oversees them all and gives nothing but cold reassurance. These people, they need someone who cares about them, day in and day out.

�You called?� Lana says, finding me in the most guarded place in the city a minute later.

�Yes. Give me your hand.�

Lana frowns, walking toward me and cocking her head to the side. I take her hand and place it on the core, stopping the automatic jerk the Beastmistress makes when I do so.

�What are you doing?�

�What I should have done from the start,� I say and release her hand once the notification appears. Luckily, I turned off the global notification option. Otherwise, everyone in all the settlements would be getting this warning.

�John��

�You�re the right person for this. Always have been,� I say softly. �I was being greedy and selfish. And perhaps a little scared.�

�I�ll take the first two, but the last?� Lana says, her voice forcibly light. But I note she doesn�t move her hand away from the City Core.

�Scared that I couldn�t trust you. Or anyone else.� I sigh. �Scared that somehow, if I didn�t do it, no one else could. That I�d be giving up control to another person who would make a mistake. But it�s stupid, isn�t it? Because you�ve been in charge this entire time anyway. So� sorry.�

Lana nods then she opens her mouth and says slowly, �John, this gift��

�Has nothing to do with us. The us that� well, you know. And it�s no gift. Shackles maybe,� I say, my lips twisting wryly. �You�ve earned it either way.�

�Oh. Real nice.�

You have lost your settlement of Vancouver voluntarily. Would you like to transfer all owned settlements to Lana Pearson?

(Y/N)

Of course. In for a penny, in for a pound. While I�m confirming, double confirming, and then triple confirming that yes, I really, really wanted to do this, Lana goes over her own notifications.

�Why am I only now receiving a report that there was an assassination attempt in the middle of Granville Street?� Lana�s voice has an edge to it, and I wince.

�Would you believe I forgot to mention it?� I say, giving her my best wide-eyed look of innocence.

�Am I being put out as bait?�

�What? No!� I glare at the woman, my hands on my hips.

The redhead breaks into a little giggle at the sight of my face. �Sorry. I shouldn�t even have asked. But it was too good an opportunity not to.�

�Truth be told, I think they�ve been waiting for boy-o.� When we look over at the Spirit, he continues. �Kim and I have been going over footage from various security cameras, searching for his attacker. At best, I�d say he�s been around for just over four days. But since boy-o either Portals himself to wherever he needs to go or directly to the heavily guarded teleportation station��

�No opportunities.� I say, frowning. It makes sense. My office is significantly reinforced against assassins, including multiple shields, sensors, and even a teleportation circle which has been triple reinforced. Heck, the entire City Center building has a security system. Even if my assassin managed to kill me there, getting away might be significantly more difficult. �Why�d he run?�

�Probably didn�t expect me or other people to aid you. He probably expected to get you on the first pass,� Ali says. �Assassins gear their Skills toward a quick attack, doing enough damage to kill in one strike. Once you survived his first pass, he probably figured it was time to go. He probably didn�t realize you�d picked up a number of damage reduction Skills on top of your health pool.�

I nod slowly, deciding to accept the explanation for now. It sounds a little shallow, but since I have no other suggestions or evidence to prove otherwise, I can�t argue.

�Am I going to have to worry about this?� Lana says, concern tinging her voice. Not as though she hasn�t already been targeted, but there�s a difference between an Advanced Class assassin and a Master Class one.

�Possibly,� I say. �Your pets should provide significant protection, but you might want to consider letting your bodyguards know. And upgrading your defensive enchantments.�

�Do you know who hired him?�

I shrug. I have a few guesses, the Movana being highest on my list. They have, after all, the greatest motivation to ensure I don�t succeed. The name I had noticed drew a blank from the System. It likely had been altered by a Skill. Ali wasn�t able to get any further information from the System either. Even the attack designations we were provided just had a series of question marks for personally identifiable information. In the end, the reason you hire a damn assassin is to stay hidden.

Before we can continue the discussion, Katherine walks in, hands on her hips, and glares at me. �It would really be useful if you informed us before you took such actions.� I open my mouth to apologize, but Katherine�s already turned to Lana, offering her a slight inclination of her head. �Congratulations, Ms. Pearson. It�s about time. I look forward to the development of these holdings in an orderly and efficient manner once again.�

�Hey, I�m right here!� I protest.

�Yes.� Katherine sniffs at me then relents, inclining her head while offering me a slight smile. �You have done well with the resources at your disposal.�

�Sassy. Been repressing much?� I say with a smile.

�It looks like I�ve got a lot of work to do in the next little while. But this change, it�ll affect how we�re going for the seat,� Lana cuts in before we get into it.

I don�t miss the amused glint in Katherine�s eyes before she turns all business.

I rub my chin while answering Lana. �Not a lot. We never qualified who the vote would be for. In fact, some might assume I�m looking to be voted in, no matter how much I protest. They might even side with us because of that. Who knows, it might also make things easier. I could just pay a visit to anyone who�s really being an obstructionist�� At the pair of glares and overdramatic sigh from Ali, I wave. �Kidding. Mostly.�

�Well, I can use you as the rebellious caveman,� Lana says. �But Rob and Bipasha will need reassurance.�

�Fair point. I�ll make sure to visit them.�

The ladies nod, then both twitch as their eyes glaze over. With hurried farewells, the pair head off, leaving me alone in the City Core room.

�MY LORD. MAY I ENQUIRE ABOUT MY CURRENT STATUS?�

�What� oh. Right. What do you want to do?� I say, realizing the awkward position Kim is in.

He�s a settlement AI after all�with politic upgrades perhaps, but still a settlement AI. But while he�s been running the settlements, I purchased him directly to give me more control.

�I AM PROGRAMMED TO CONDUCT SETTLEMENT SERVICES. IF I HAD A PREFERENCE, IT WOULD BE TO CONTINUE TO WORK WITH MS. PEARSON.�

�Done,� I say and take a few seconds to transfer ownership. �Just keep feeding me politic updates and tips and we�re good.�

�OF COURSE. MS. PEARSON HAS INDICATED THAT IS ALLOWABLE.�

I chuckle softly and dismiss the notification, leaving me with Ali. Even with my new resolution to stop being an ass and think I�m doing all this by myself, there are certain things only I can do.

Chapter 17

�Mr. Lee,� Bipasha greets me, standing with a smile.

I absently note her addition of a couple of silent guards, individuals in business suits and shades. Which almost makes me want to smack them over the head since we�re indoors. But then again, those shades are probably high-tech ones with toys like flash suppression and auto-targeting. Or at least, I hope so for the Weaver�s sake.

�Thanks. And yes, tea would be great,� I say, nodding to the assistant who comes in to serve us. After I let go of my settlements, I spent a full day reassuring everyone I was still alive, that I would take more precautions, and no, Lana had not decided to launch a coup. Or, in some cases, that the redhead hadn�t snapped. �I thought I�d swing by to talk to you about recent events.�

�I�m grateful for your consideration. But I hadn�t realized we were that close.� Bipasha�s eyes glint with humor and a slight barb.

�We aren�t, but I should have come by sooner,� I say, leaning back in the plush chair. �Things have been hectic.�

�Gathering the votes.�

�I�ve also been considering who might be hiring assassins to knock off the competition. And it made me realize, you know, you and Rob have good motivation to do so.� I stare at the woman, seeing if I get any reaction.

�I have no hand in the attack on you,� Bipasha says.

Eye of Insight doesn�t even twinge, so she�s not using any Skill to conceal her words. Well, nothing beyond the usual array of charm-based passives. Then again, Eye of Insight�s not like Nelia�s Skill, which can ascertain the actual physical truth of a statement. All I have is my own skill and intuition.

�I am still waiting for your answer.�

�About who I�ll support?� I say softly. Instead of answering her, I pick up the cup of tea and blow on it while activating Society�s Web. Hundreds of threads run from her. I�ve realized many of the thinner ones are from her ownership of the settlement. Lana gained so many more in the transfer, the additional responsibility multiplying the already exhaustive threads. Yet for all that, I�m getting the hang of this Skill and find myself sorting through them with one part of my mind while continuing the conversation with the other. I�ve stopped reading the individual information pieces but instead �feel� the threads. �Still haven�t decided yet.�

�Do you intend to wait till the day of?�

�Maybe. Or maybe I�m holding off till I know we have a chance. I�m still waiting for word from the Truinnar and Movana.� My hands open slightly, as if a shrug. �Till we get either or both of them, we have no chance.�

�True. I had hoped your relationship with Lord Roxley would be of use there,� Bipasha says.

�Me too.�

�Assuming this goes through, we have yet to speak about what you wish for your help,� Bipasha says. �Unless you are doing this for the betterment of all?�

I hear the lightest derision in her tone at the last line, a hint of what she thinks of the idea. And perhaps for those who might act for others? Hard to say. Still, I do note a trend among the threads. The largest and strongest threads lead to many whose names I know, some of whom I�ve actually spoken to. They�re all individuals of power and import in this new world. The feel of those threads is mostly cold, analytical. A weighing of debt and obligation, of resources traded and favors gained. I find a few�very few�threads which glow with emotion, but I almost choke on the intensity of those emotions. When and to whom she feels, she feels with passion.

Thankfully, I�m not one of those. When I finally find the thread leading to me, it�s thin, barely larger than many of those leading to her staff. There is no great emotional baggage related to me, no hidden desires. As far as she�s concerned, I�m just another business transaction.

�No, I�ll want something. But as an acquaintance once said, let�s leave it be for now. Call it a favor for later.�

�A favor.�

�Nothing which will harm you or your settlements. It�ll be within your grasp to grant, and it won�t be too onerous,� I reassure her.

Huh. She has a thread to Lana. Again, not much, though there�s a touch of jealousy there. Envy. But respect too. And another for Mikito, this one tinged with similar feelings as she has for the other champions. Those threads are all thick, deepened by their repeated interactions and numerous times saving each other. Nothing untoward there. Another one to Roxley. Again, a business relationship, though there�s a touch of lust there. I feel a twinge of jealousy which I squash by locating another thread, this one for Ingrid. It�s not thick, but contracts and obligations abound. Interesting.

�Well then, I�ll just have to take your word on it.� Bipasha�s lips curl upward and she leans forward, her armored jumpsuit pulling tighter against her chest, outlining her body. �Tell me, Mr. Lee, am I that beautiful?�

�Huh?�

�Well, you have been staring at me fixatedly this entire conversation. If you would like time alone�� Bipasha says, touching her lips gently. �You are not entirely hard on the eyes either.�

In the corner of my mind, I hear Ali laughing. The damn Spirit is invisible, floating around and inspecting the surroundings, occasionally sticking his tongue out at the guards who cannot see him.

�No. Nothing like that,� I say, shaking my head.

�Oh? Pity.�

I pause, realizing that my automatic rejection might have been idiotic. And then I realize that I�m thinking of sleeping with a woman who might have ordered my assassination. The incongruity of it all breaks my concentration and I let my Skill drop, allowing my Mana to recover while I stare out a nearby window at the changes to Dhaka.

�You�ve done great work here. I�m surprised so many of the Galactics have integrated their designs so well to your architectural theme.�

�I imposed no theme,� Bipasha says and gestures outward, encompassing the many Galactic buildings that have stuck a variety of domes, detailed carvings, and tall towers to their buildings. �The Galactics appreciated some of the local designs and copied it. At least it�s better than the wave of slum architecture.�

I raise an eyebrow and Bipasha gestures, a series of notification images popping up. Four-, five-story buildings with radical overhangs, balconies, and a cluster of faux air conditioners dominate the images. All of the design elements contrast with the silver-grey sheen of System-enhanced material and the alien-required modifications like too-wide or too-tall doorways, filtered window shades, and the like. Buildings that look sleek and elegant under Galactic architectural now look ugly and distorted, a mockery of what came before.

�Oh�� I make a face while Ali laughs softly, muttering something about damn noveau riche idiots.

�Bad enough I�ve been trying to convince the council to repurpose those neighborhoods for agriculture, but now we�ve got Galactics saying we need to preserve it for historical and cultural reasons,� Bipasha says scornfully. �As if anyone actually wants to live and work in those areas anymore. They�ve all moved into the center.�

�All?�

�All but a few fools,� Bipasha says with a dismissive wave. �Sentimental fools.�

I keep silent. Watching Bipasha at work, airing her beliefs, is interesting. It gives me insight into the woman, but I have no place to comment. After all, I ignored such issues in my own settlement, leaving the final resolution to others.

�But that�s not what you came to speak about,� Bipasha says with a smile. �And while this has been interesting, I do have other work. Unless there is more�?�

�Just one. What would it take for you to support Rob? Hypothetically.�

�Hypothetically, I might agree if there was an arrangement to rotate the seat,� Bipasha says. �And I�d have to have a Contract outlining what he�d be allowed to do, on-going reports of his actions and the meetings he conducts, and of course, political, economic, and military support for my expansion.�

I fall silent, considering her words, and call up the map of the country once again. Bipasha has, between herself and her allies, conquered a large number of settlements in Bangladesh and its neighbors. There are glaring spots Galactics have managed to hold on to through a mixture of military or diplomatic maneuverings. But somehow, I have a feeling it�s the non-aligned human settlements that Bipasha is eyeing in a bid to solidify her hold of this area. Certainly, from what I�ve learned, her leadership has been significantly compromised by the simple fact that she�s a woman. It�s a misogynistic viewpoint and one that ignores the reality of the System, but old habits die hard.

In the case of some of her ex-enemies, very hard�or so it�s rumored. That is, perhaps, one of my major concerns of any long-term alliance with this woman. Even if the rumors had reached me before, the insight I�ve gained through my Social Web has underlined that fact. But perhaps a cold, merciless, and ruthless leader is what we need. Is Rob, someone who literally stumbled into his position of power, any better?

�Good to know,� I say. �I�m glad to hear that there�s some leeway to discuss things.�

�Some. I�m giving you the benefit of the doubt that you seek a better future for us all. Do not push that too far,� Bipasha says.

With that warning, the meeting comes to an end. For all that I�ve learned of the woman, I can�t help but consider that she has been extremely frank with me thus far. At least on the surface. A nice change, compared to some of the more obscure political maneuverings I�ve had to deal with.

God damn Truinnar.

Next stop, China. I appear on top of the Bank of China once again, looking over the high rises of Hong Kong. I�d Portal into the teashop, but sadly, I�m blocked. Annoying, but in truth, it isn�t that far. A quick elevator ride and jog later and I�m ready for my meeting with Grandmaster Chang.

�Mr. Lee,� Grandmaster Chang greets me.

�Grandmaster.� I take the seat before I pick up the teapot and top off his cup, then I pour myself one, taking the time to regard him with Social Web. I split my mind as I consider the various threads and carry on the initial pleasantries. �Thank you for meeting with me.�

�Not at all. Food?� Grandmaster Chang asks, gesturing at the waitress.

Over my protests, a series of snacks are ordered. I sit back, flicking my gaze away from him occasionally so that I�m not as obvious in my use of the Skill.

�Thank you. I actually came by to speak with you about the Chinese,� I say.

�There are a lot of us.�

�Yes. There are,� I say, acknowledging his point. Interesting. Obligations, contracts, a chain of responsibility flows from his chest further west, into China. There are a few, but one is certainly larger, more prominent by far. �And that�s why I�m surprised that Bipasha is being supported.�

�I do not indulge in politics,� Jing Yi says firmly.

My lips tighten as I recall Cheng Shao�s flat denial as well. �I am not asking you to. I�m just trying to understand things. And you are much closer to the matter than I am.�

�Again, I don�t comment on politics,� Jing Yi says firmly.

My eyes narrow slightly as I consider what a man with this much power could be concerned about. Yet I somehow don�t sense concern, just caution. I wonder if it�s a holdover from before the System, a desire to keep his head down. After all, the curse �May you be recognized by those in high places� might be apocryphal, but it sure as hell exemplifies Chinese views of the government. The last thing the common man wants to do is deal with them.

�I see,� I say and fall silent while I consider how to push him. The old man is smart and stubborn, so I doubt a straightforward approach will work. However, I have to admit, I hadn�t actually thought through my plans for this meeting.

�Ah, good. The food has arrived. Eat, eat!� Jing Yi proclaims, pushing the plate toward me.

I take his prompts with alacrity, mulling over and discarding various iterations of the same question. It�s only when a truly unfamiliar dish plops down that my concentration is broken.

�Roasted and seasoned Junaar Beast,� Jing Yi says and points at the small, anteater-like creature that sits on the table. Except its skin is crispy like a roasted duck and the set of six feet are certainly not common. The chef has even used the head and its oversized eye sockets to place dipping sauces. �Quite the treat. They started appearing a year into the apocalypse and have spread all across China.�

�Oh?� I serve him a chopped piece of the meat before picking one up myself, savoring the chewy and surprisingly boneless dish. Its meaty taste is a cross between flavorful young lamb and crispy, crunchy, fatty pig. In other words, delicious. �It�s good!�

�Very much so. It�s a pity they�re so hard to catch.� At my polite hum of interest, the Grandmaster continues. �The beast actually is interesting. It raises small creatures�Junaar Mice�and sends them out in front of it. The mice act as bait and distractions for the Beast itself. A very pragmatic approach to life. Don�t you think?�

I pause while chewing on the latest morsel, staring at the smiling old man. I look at the alien creature then the man, before chuckling softly. �Yes. Very practical. Here, have another piece!�

It�s only when I walk back out of the teahouse, after stuffing myself full of good food and trading more war stories, that Ali pops back into existence. The Spirit sniffs, floating alongside me as we fast-walk back to the teleportation pad.

�Not the subtlest of analogies,� Ali says.

�But it works.�

So. Bipasha is the mouse and the Chinese consider themselves the owner. Well, I can live with that, so long as they vote. And after having one attack set on me, their strategy might not be the worse one I�ve seen. Keep your name hidden, keep your head down, and let others attract the attention. Until you need to strike. Not a bad strategy, but not for me.

�Mr. Lee.� Rob smiles, offering me a hand as he stands.

We meet once more at his faux-Oval Office, though this time a half-dozen Secret Service members are standing around. I�m amused, somewhat, by the increase in security.

�Didn�t think me nearly getting killed was that big a deal.�

�Gods, your head is big. You do recall that Ikael got killed while speaking with you, right?�

�You mean, they�re here to protect him against me?� I send the thought back, almost scandalized. Then, realizing there�re a half dozen Advanced Class bodyguards in here, a significant portion of any settlement�s fighting force, I decide that maybe it�s a nice compliment. Of sorts.

�President Markey,� I greet the man and take the offered seat. I�m a little amused that the chair is nice and plushy and still not as comfortable as the Galactic nanoweave chairs I have in my office. But tradition dictates that these chairs look this way, and so here we are. The moment I take my seat, I throw up Society�s Web and begin the sorting process.

�Your decision caught many of us by surprise,� Rob says. �I�m glad to hear that it was voluntary.�

�It was, and it made sense,� I say with a half-smile. �Lana was doing the job anyway. And this leaves me more time to talk with people about the Vote.�

�I thought you might be here for that.� Rob opens his hand. �I�m sorry to say, but if you wish our support, you�ll only receive part of it. Our representatives will all be conducting a conscience vote.�

�Huh. Your free media really does put the Shop to shame. Seems like they had a house�senate?�vote and they forced Rob to agree to that. Good news is that they picked up most of southern Texas by agreeing to that though.�

�Ah�� I lean backward. �Any ideas of the numbers?�

�If they were to vote for Ms. Chowdury? Maybe half,� Rob says.

That means we�d lose two percent of the vote. Not huge, but still significant since that�s about ten percent of what we can afford to lose. It doesn�t help that so much of North America is already taken by the Truinnar and their allies, forcing Rob�s half-formed government to work around it.

�What do you want if you do throw your backing at her anyway?� I say softly, doing the math in my head. It�s still not enough, not by far. Not without the Truinnar and more of the independents. Which probably dictates my next trip.

�Nothing major. We�ve already spoken somewhat about this. But I can sell a further portion of my people on supporting her if she would commit to lending her support on an expedition.�

�You mean war,� I say, cutting through the bullshit. �Where?�

Rob doesn�t say a word, gesturing and flicking a map to me, highlighting the state of Oklahoma. I don�t ask why that state�I�m sure there�re good reasons. What I�m more concerned about is who owns the settlements there. Sadly, I�m once again right. He�s looking to clear the Truinnar from Oklahoma, which would put us in direct conflict with people whose vote we probably need.

�That�s not going to work,� I say, my eyes tight. �Or I don�t think it will.�

�I understand.�

I sigh, standing and offering my hand to Rob. He seems a nice man, but with the state the country is in, the wars he must fight, I�m not sure why I came now. Perhaps I�m intrinsically biased to think of the Americans as a major power, but in this new world, they�re too scattered. When Rob stands, there�s a little of the same understanding in his eyes. A tiredness and a resignation that I never noticed before.

�Thank you. And good luck.�

�You too, Mr. Lee.�

East. The Portal to Whitehorse drops me off in the lobby of the City Center, startling more than a few Adventurers. A part of me wonders what it means when I�ve got full access to Portal anywhere I want within Roxley�s settlements. Not just Whitehorse, but even all the way up to Alaska. Well, theoretically at least, since I don�t have any waypoints in Alaska yet. Another, more cowardly, portion decides, as always, questions like this about my relationship with the Truinnar should be set aside for a more appropriate time. Like never.

�John,� Roxley greets me with a smile at the elevator after I ascend. �I was wondering when you�d arrive.�

�Well, I�ve been thinking you�d tell me when you�re ready, but tick-tock, man.�

�Tick-tock?�

�The sound a clock makes�� I shake my head. �No distractions. I need an answer. Are we going to make the vote this time, or am I going to have to plan for another six months of politicking?�

�And settlement conquest?� Roxley asks, an enigmatic smile on his lips.

�If necessary.�

�Very well,� Roxley says. �I�m glad that I read you right. The Duchess has agreed to backing your efforts, with certain caveats. Firstly, we�d like Earth to officially join the��

�Nope.�

�You didn�t let me finish.�

�Didn�t need to.� I place my hands on my hips. �You didn�t spend all this time to make an offer you knew I would turn down immediately.�

�I did not. But I had to try,� Roxley says, giving me a belly-flopping, stomach churning smile.

Damn it. I check my notification logs but don�t see a damn note, so either his Charisma and other Skills worked or it�s all just me.

�It�s just you,� Ali sends to me, obviously having seen me open my notification logs.

�Get lost,� I send to Ali then fix Roxley with a look, pushing my other thoughts and feelings aside. �So?�

�We will require you to vote with us for certain bills. Ten such times, we will compel your votes�and those will not be negotiable,� Roxley says. �In addition, we will want you to levy additional duties and taxes against the Movana and their allies. Truinnar are to be exempt from entry charges, while��

�You want us to double or triple the charges for the Movana and their allies.� I wave. �If those are the biggest sticking points, it doesn�t sound horrible if we can get all of you on board. We�ll want to adjust them a bit, like making sure those bills don�t directly impact us too badly and maybe set a time limit on those duties and taxes, but it�s something for Lana and Katherine to handle.� I hesitate but add, �And Bipasha.�

�You have made your decision then?�

�I�m actually more interested in what took you so long,� I say, tapping my foot. �You obviously have been considering this for a while.�

�The delay has been for your benefit. Our meetings have been of particular interest to our enemies. Confirming the agreement before this would have placed you and your efforts in greater danger.�

�But now we�ve got less than two weeks to get the rest of your people to agree, then they�re going to have to argue about what we�ve decided.�

�The agreement you make with me will be sufficient,� Roxley states confidently.

�How�?�

�Can I be confident of the matter? It has already been agreed on.�

�You�ve been talking to them already? But if you were, won�t our enemies know?�

Roxley looks slightly miffed. �Please, John. My compatriots and I have been politicking under the System all our lives. This is a minor matter.�

I pause, then shut my mouth. Fine. They know how to game the System and their opponents. And I�m the blunt idiot who was kept in the dark for his own good. I grit my teeth, drawing a deep breath and exhaling slowly, forcing calm on myself. When Roxley puts a hand on my arm, squeezing my bicep for comfort, I growl and shrug him off, stalking away to stare out a viewscreen which acts as a window.

�John�?�

�One second,� I say, holding up a finger.

I force myself to breathe, to run through the emotions and slowly, slowly push down the anger. Because in the end, they were right. I just hated being handled.

When I have better control of my emotions, I say, �Why are we having this talk now?�

�The assassination attempt on you has escalated matters. It is obvious our stall tactics have been seen through.�

�By the Movana.� I say without inflection, curious to see what Roxley thinks. I turn back to the Truinnar and open my Skill. Threads appear, dozens, hundreds. I avoid the obvious one, the thread which leads to me, and instead focus on the others.

�Most likely,� Roxley acknowledges. �Of the factions present, it is only theirs which would be threatened by Earth. Facing the Fist directly and winning their respect has blunted the danger from their faction. So long as you allow them access to Earth and its dungeons, they should not act against you. In fact, they might support humanity�s growth. After all, you and Ms. Sato are prime candidates for recruitment.�

�What? A battle maniac and a cheat?�

�Yes. But to return to the point, the Artisans do not care enough to act against you. And well, you have a deal with us.�

�Which leaves the Movana,� I say. �Or other humans who don�t believe I don�t want the seat for myself. Or any independent Galactic group who�s willing to blow enough Credits to hire a Master Class assassin.�

�Which are few.�

I hate to say it, but the logic is impeccable. In fact, outside of Bipasha and perhaps Rob, I can�t think of any group who might want me dead that badly. Among other things, while I�m important to this movement, I�m not the only mover and shaker. After all our efforts, it�d take a lot of assassinations and Credits to stop this train.

�I will speak with Ms. Pearson about the details of what we require and the number of seats I can guarantee. It is, of course, not everyone,� Roxley says.

I nod in acceptance of his warning. No surprise there. As much influence as the Duchess might have, as charming as Roxley might be, and as much as the species is going to vote for its betterment as a whole, there will still be those who disagree. But most is good. Most is better than none.

�Thank you,� I say, flashing him a grateful smile.

With the Truinnar votes and the ones from the Fist, we should be close. At some point, I need to push Cheng Shao again, just to make sure what I heard from Bipasha is true, but if so, we might have this. Or close enough. But still, I see the message in my notifications, the request from Wynn for a meeting. And I find myself wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt.

�You�re welcome, John.� Roxley visibly hesitates, looking uncertain for once.

I wait, knowing he has something to say. I wonder what kind of bomb he�s about to drop.

�Would you care to join me for dinner?�

�Nah, I�ll just grab a bite in Kamloops��

�John.� Roxley�s voice grows slightly heated. �Would you like to join me for dinner?�

�You just�� I stutter to a stop at the way he said it, the hesitation and uncertainty and yes, the slight blush. Oh. Oh� �Ummm� right. Got to go��

You Are Quantum Locked

�What!?!�

�No running away,� Roxley says, crossing the distance to me and staring at me heatedly. �I want an answer. A real one.�

�And if I don�t give one, you�ll keep me trapped?� I growl. �Very Misery of you.�

�Wha�? No. You will not divert me from this. I know of your plans. If you succeed, you intend to leave Earth. I have responsibilities which will not allow me to go. We have danced around this matter for years. I wish�no�I require a resolution.�

�Roxley�� I shake my head. �I�m leaving. Gone. Stars away. And what happens next, I have a feeling it�ll be worse than taunting a dragon. There�s no point to this. To us.�

�No point?� Roxley says softly, almost gently. �No point in joy? In happiness? Are you so fixated on the future you will avoid the present? What is your Taoism then, your pursuit and acceptance of the now?�

�Not fair,� I mutter. �You aren�t supposed to use our conversations against me. And joy isn�t the goal��

�No? Well, perhaps you could educate me further. Over dinner.�

Roxley is right next to me now, so close I could touch him with the barest motion. But he doesn�t move to cross those final few inches and neither do I. With his last sentence, Roxley lets the silence take over, giving me time to think.

I hate this. Hate contemplating this giant ball of emotions, the fear, the worry, the desire. The immediate, chemical reaction to the man�the alien!�before me. But� what is, is. Isn�t that what I�ve tried to embrace? Sometimes, the right choice isn�t what I think or what I believe. Sometimes, to see the whole, you need to step outside of the boundaries of your own views.

And hell, I haven�t been laid in four years.

I don�t make it out of Whitehorse till the next morning. Late morning. But when I leave, it�s with a smile and a secret from Roxley. Because for all the logic, all the clear and indisputable circumstantial evidence pointing to the Movana�s guilt, I can�t believe it. The teleportation portal to Paris rips me apart and dumps me out in the City of Lights, in the square right outside the Notre Dame de Paris. It�s not exactly how I ever expected to revisit the city, but at least I managed to come back.

Paris is beautiful. There�s something about the city which gives it a certain charm, the grey block buildings, the picturesque centuries-old architecture, the giant bestial mounts. It�s a city which demands attention, even after the ravages of the System�s arrival.

�Wynn.� I greet the Guild Leader with a smile.

In the corner of my eyes, I note the multiple Quantum Lock symbols, denoting the numerous teleportation barriers in place. Over the entire city, a Settlement Shield is in place, lightly flickering as the occasional low Level monster flies into it. Numerous flying mounts glide and flap above me while flying cars float among the hovering beacons, taking their passengers through the large metropolitan. Hundreds of Galactics and humans move around me on their feet, ducking between gigantic beasts of burden and larger humanoid feet, treading to jobs, schools, or Quests. It�s an amazing show of prosperity, though a part of me knows it�s a false front too. Paris is the center of the Movana�s push. Outlying settlements are not nearly as busy.

�Redeemer,� Wynn says with a smile, offering me his hand. �I�m glad you accepted my invitation.�

�Color me intrigued. I hadn�t expected to be invited to Paris of all places.� After all, the guild master�s guild is based in Vancouver.

�It was considered a better option,� Wynn replies and waves me toward a waiting hover car. �If you will, we have only a brief window.�

We take off, giving me a view of the sprawling city. Like Dahar, I notice how many neighborhoods have retained their older, human architecture. Of course, not all of Paris is made of heritage-worthy architecture, nor do all Galactics care. And so, the city is dotted with the occasional incongruently placed building, like the floating oval, the hexadecimal-structured building, and one I swear was made by Dali himself. Strangely enough, it suits the city.

�A beautiful city,� Wynn says, waving below. �We were able to restore much of it after the initiation. It seemed to satisfy many of the locals. As well as our adoption of their language. I am told it is linguistically similar to our native tongue, though with less gender definitions.�

I open my mouth then shut it, declining to comment. While I took French in school like any good Canadian, I have to admit, mine is beyond rusty. Add the fact that Canadian French is not really considered �real� French by the French themselves, and well, I�m not one to comment. Come to think of it, I�m finding myself holding my tongue more and more. I wonder if it�s a sign of maturity or cowardice?

�How many?�

�Pardon?�

�How many humans are left?� I ask, looking below. �I know the Movana purchased the settlements a little after the apocalypse. And even took a few Cores by force. So. How many?�

�For the region? Just under a million. But we�ve had significant immigration from outlying areas,� Wynn says without sugar-coating the truth.

I shut my eyes for a second, pushing away the wave of emotion. It�s too complex, too dense for me to pick apart right now. Though the aching grief over all the loss is still there. Still. A million. That�s a lot.

�Chatter on the local boards indicates they�re relatively happy. And Wynn isn�t telling the whole story�there�s been a constant level of immigration from the city too. They�re using more and more of the locals as go-betweens in other cities to help mollify the local populace.�

�How�s it going?� I�m trying to imagine the conversation between a Frenchman and German, then I decide perhaps I shouldn�t be basing my imagination on bad Hollywood movies. After all, they are neighbors and were in the EU together for ages. Surely it isn�t as much of a farce as Hollywood would have me believe.

�Insufficient data to provide a statistically relevant conclusion, as bits would say. It�s not as if the local boards go into exhaustive detail over something like this.�

I send a mental affirmation back to Ali. Since I�m here anyway, I open my new favorite Skill, staring at the numerous threads that criss-cross the city. Rather than give myself a migraine trying to actually understand the information before me, I just watch the shift and twist and let it seep in. Hopefully my subconscious mind will be able to make use of it. Or not.

�I am somewhat surprised you agreed to come,� Wynn says, breaking the silence.

I turn back to the guild master, staring at the halo of threads around him, and do a brief check on the thread which leads to me. It�s not particularly thick. The obligations we initially shared as settlement owner and guild leader have disappeared, leaving just our normal interactions. While there were traces of friendly, even respectful interactions, it�s mostly a business relationship.

�Why? Because it�s rumored the Movana are the ones who set the assassin on me?� I say bluntly.

�Yes.�

�I figured if you really want to kill me, I�d make it easier. Rather get stabbed in the front than the back.�

Wynn bursts out laughing. �Oh, you definitely are an Erethran Paladin.�

�You�ve met one before?�

�Once. A long time ago, when I was still a child,� Wynn says.

Damn. Our legends are right�these elves live for centuries at least, considering what I know of the Paladins.

�It was on a space station above Linx 4. He had been chasing a crew of space pirates and finally found their ship docked at the station. The pirates had switched out the transponder beacon on their ship and fled to Movana space. But the Paladin refused to let it go. He took on the entire station�s security forces and the pirates by himself.�

My mentor had spoken about a few of my predecessors, told stories and discussed what was expected. But she�d never mentioned anything like this�just major battles and sometimes a few illustrative events. So was a fight with an entire space station�s security team and a gang of pirates considered a day in the life for a Paladin?

�Did he win?� I ask.

�Depends on your definition. He tore up the space station, killed all the pirates, and destroyed their ship,� Wynn says. �But he also hurt relations between Linx and the Erethrans for a century and forced the Empire to pay repatriations higher than the damage the pirates could have done in a decade of raids.�

�A blunt instrument,� I say, letting the Skill drop and allowing my Mana to regenerate.

Yet I detect a hint of admiration in Wynn�s voice. A fond recollection of the unnamed Paladin. For the rest of the flight, I ponder the contrast between the pragmatic and the emotional, the needs of the now and the future.

No towering, hollow trees greet me when we finally arrive. Instead, the building is what I call Galactic-norm, a stylized grey rectangle thrust into the sky without care for physics or decorum. I absently note even more quantum locks in place once I enter the building, shutting down any chances of me porting in or out of this area. I�m not surprised.

You have entered Paris City Center

Facilities available:

City Core

Shop

Meeting rooms (+18% experience increase in administrative skills)

Training rooms (+8% experience increase in skills trained)

We�re led into one of those meetings room, a large board room which hosts four different Movana. Three men, one woman. Like Wynn, the leader and the female look like Lord of the Rings extras, thin and slim and perfectly coiffed. One of the extra males is, interestingly enough, portly and unkempt with a mohawk for a hairstyle and nose piercings which gleam in the diffuse light. As for the last man, he looks like an elf given steroids, sporting a sleeveless tunic to show off his arms.

�Redeemer. It�s a pleasure to meet you,� Bhale a Bhode, the leader of the group, says as he stands and offers his hand to shake.

I take it while activating Social Web and watch as the thread between us grows. Within seconds, I�m introduced to the rest, whose names I forget almost immediately in exchange for an interesting insight into the interpersonal politics among the group. For example, Mohawk�s jealous of everyone in this group as he�s the only non-Combat Classer and non-Master Class. He�s also slightly afraid of Musclehead, who in turn has an extremely thick, twisted thread to the female elf. It�s filled with numerous dealings over a long course of years, with familial and personal feelings messed up in it. I�m scanning through it all, gathering as much information as I can, while we do the small talk thing.

�Once again, we have to thank you for being willing to meet with us directly,� Bhale says, waving around the meeting room. �It shows a degree of open-mindedness which is refreshing.�

�You�re being too generous,� I say.

Wynn coughs slightly, hiding his movement behind a sip on the blue juice we�re drinking. Quite tasty actually.

�But I do think we should talk about why I�m here,� I say.

�The Planetary Vote,� Bhale says. �We are willing to provide you the votes you require. All our votes.�

Surprise obviously shows on my face because Bhale smiles and continues. �We understand the position you are in. And ours. So we do not ask for much.�

I find myself leaning forward, listening to Bhale as he lists their demands. In the end, they come down to a series of small concessions, none of them much greater than what we�ve provided to other independent and smaller kingdoms thus far. At least, none are much greater individually, but as a whole, it�s a significant package of concessions. Still very reasonable considering they�re offering nearly nine percent of the votes. More interesting is the way they�re asking for it. Most of those we�ve spoken to have requested immediate benefits �economic and military concessions which take effect immediately, Credits and materials sent over. Here though, the Movana are basing their concessions on a future where we win the Vote. A show of confidence perhaps�or of good faith.

�It�s relatively reasonable,� I say once he�s done. Smiles cross all their faces, but I hold up my hand. �Details can be argued by those under us. But the problem is, your votes aren�t enough.�

�It is all we have,� Bhale says. He doesn�t look surprised by my words at all.

�Aye, and the Truinnar want you out,� I say, opening my hands. �You see the position I�m in?�

�We do. It�s why we�re willing to compromise on what we will accept. And I�m sure the Truinnar have requested significantly more,� Bhale says. �I can offer nothing more.�

�Nothing�?� I say.

Bhale meets my gaze calmly, refusing to back down from his words, and I let out a low huff of exasperation.

�Yah gots enough. Yah want our baybies next?� Musclehead speaks up, his arms crossed as he flexes the large biceps and leans forward. �I told y�all it ain�t worth speaking to the damn monkeys.�

�He got a speech impediment or something?�

�I think it�s an accent. An affected one.� Ali is looking at Musclehead a little incredulously, and I admit, I�m embarrassed for the Movana too.

I close my mouth and run the numbers, using the Neural Link to aid in the calculations and the voting scenarios. With the Truinnar, and assuming Bipasha is telling the truth, we�ve got roughly seventy-five percent of the seats. With the Movana, the number drops by nearly eight percent, putting us at sixty-six percent. We could, with a little elbow grease, eke out another percent of space by taking some of the unclaimed spots. I might even be able to get a percent or two from the independents, but in both cases, I�ll still fall short. With the Movana, it�d just be a little shorter.

�Thank you for the offer,� I say softly. �But it�s not just my decision. I�ll pass it on.�

Musclehead frowns, but Bhale raises a hand, quieting the other man before he can say anything. He, however, leans forward and fixes me with those turquoise eyes of his. �Redeemer, we are not your enemies. No matter what the Truinnar have told you, our actions were not personal.�

�I�m imagining a giant but here,� I say.

�But if you persist in declining our overtures of friendship, we will have to take action.�

�And the blades come out,� I say, smiling at the quartet who sits opposite me. Wynn shifts uncomfortably in his chair, his presence a footnote here. Bhale doesn�t back down, not that I expected him to. �We�ll let you know.�

On those foreboding notes, I�m allowed to leave. Wynn is quiet when he sees me out and back to the teleportation pad. I don�t bother using their pad though, triggering my own Portal once I�m inside the exclusion zone. As I nod goodbye to the troubled-looking guild master, I can�t help but feel somewhat satisfied with what I�ve learned.

Unless the Movana are really playing a deep game, they aren�t the ones who set the assassin on me.

Chapter 18

�You�re going to have to explain that again for us,� Lana says while handing me the basket of bannock.

I take two pieces and reach for a third before my hand gets slapped and the basket stolen by Carlos.

�What are you doing here?� I grumble at the man. �You weren�t exactly invited.�

�Bannock,� Carlos replies and puts a piece on his plate before the bready, doughy goodness is taken by Mikito.

�You don�t think the Movana are the ones who set you up. Because you didn�t see anything connecting them to you in an aggressive way?� Ingrid says slowly as she waves a pair of long wooden chopsticks while standing over the pot full of oil. �Am I right?�

�Sort of,� I say. �It�s also because they were willing to work with us. Even if they know they can�t get the vote.�

�Could be a ruse,� Lana says, waving a drumstick to punctuate her point. �You know, make you think they�re your friends while sending assassins to kill you.�

�See, that�s the other thing. Killing me won�t stop the vote. We�ve done enough groundwork, you guys could finish the job,� I say. �I�m not that important.�

�Then who sent the assassin?�

I shrug, not having an answer. I could put together a million and one conspiracy theories, but in the end, I just don�t know.

�I don�t think it matters,� Ingrid says while we all sit there, considering matters. �There�s not been another attempt as yet. And no one�s reported an attempt on them.�

�Good. Just one problem,� I say. �If we confirm with the Truinnar, the Movana have pretty much guaranteed they�re going to try to stop us.�

�Did they indicate how?� Mikito asks, concern in her voice. �If they intend to go after the local human settlements, I�ll need to inform Hugo and the other champions.�

�No.� I shrug. �But you might want to do it anyway.�

Mikito nods, and we fall silent for a little while as we dig in.

It�s Carlos who breaks the silence. �Are we actually going to succeed at the Vote?�

�Not yet,� I say. �We�re still short.�

�Then�� Carlos frowns as he sees the slight smiles among the team. �What am I missing?�

�There�s always a but with John,� Lana explains with a smile.

�But with the Truinnar, we�re close enough we might be able to get the other independents who have been on the fence.�

�If we choose Bipasha and the Truinnar,� Lana states firmly while holding up a finger. �Is that what I�m hearing, John?�

I nod reluctantly. I don�t trust Bipasha. Something about the outwardly friendly, internally cold woman worries me. Perhaps it�s because she reminds me a little of my own father�a man who learned to �fake� the appearance of an extrovert while still being entirely reserved inside. I understood why he did it, and it had been effective at letting him climb the corporate ladder, but still, the dichotomy had made for an unpleasant childhood.

�Damn. Here I was hoping to pick up more work,� Ingrid says, sitting down beside me. �But once we�ve chosen, you know there�s going to be a bit of a mess. The Movana will act, as will any other group that thinks you�re going to shut them out.�

That means all the Movana and their allies, as well as a few independent species we�d gotten on the bad side of�or who we�d visibly disapproved of their practices. The entire Serfdom thing still grates against the vast majority of humanity�s morals, and the species who twist the rules to make it slavery in all but name know we�ll be targeting them. And then there are the species who aren�t much better than the monsters out there, killing, eating, and smashing their way through life. Who, even in �normal� Galactic society, are relegated to the edges. Like Dungeon Worlds.

�What do you think they�ll do?� I ask the group in general.

�Settlement attacks,� Mikito says.

�Assassinations on vulnerable settlement owners. Or where the second-in-command is weak,� Ingrid adds.

�Political and economic pressure.� Lana raises a finger. �Don�t forget many of the Galactics have interests outside of Earth.�

�Bribes?� Carlos says, shrugging. �No reason they can�t try to entice the others away.�

Everyone proceeds to throw out ideas of what might happen, but it mostly boils down to variations of the initially stated ideas. Once we exhaust the brainstorm, we shift the conversation to what we can do. In the end, our plan of action is limited not only by the number of personnel we have and can trust but also our timeframe.

When we finally clear the multiple plates and pots of food, I sum up our conversation. �Right. For the most part, we�re going to have stay on the defensive. We target settlements owned by enemy independents with military strikes. That�ll be Mikito, the champions, and my job. We use Ingrid and any of her friends�I assume you have friends in the business�to target some of the other groups if we think it�ll work. Or at the least, it�ll keep them busy and looking over their shoulder. Kim and Lana can provide the necessary list to you, as well as the budget.�

Ingrid grins at the offer.

�And as for the rest, Lana, Bipasha, and Katherine will work on reinforcing our contracts and working on the edge cases among the indies,� I say.

�What should I do?� Carlos asks after I fall silent.

The rest of us share a look then chorus, �The dishes!�

Of course, we don�t just delegate kitchen duties to Carlos. Carlos is designated our spokesperson with the Artisan�s group and a few other non-aligned Artisan settlement owners. While pigeon-holing the man as a non-Combat Classer isn�t really nice, he is likely to have more luck chatting with them than we would. If nothing else, developing a relationship could be beneficial for future trade.

Once we make up our minds, we get to work. And we definitely have a ton of work to do. I find myself bouncing from city to city, settlement to settlement, talking and occasionally fighting while my friends scramble to get their own tasks done.

I find myself portaling back from Kisangani after another fruitful discussion days later. The African city has many similarities to Whitehorse, including the presence of a Galactic owner, a location in a high Level zone, and a major river flowing beside it. Of course, it�s located in a temperate forest, had more than fifty times our population prior to the apocalypse, and has an all-round moderate climate. But, you know, outside of those things, it is very similar to my old home.

Amusingly, the Galactic owner is another Kudaya, though it is closer to a giant, stork-like reptile than a hippo. The creature uses a series of thin legs to stand and move about and is not a fighter at all. For a Mid-Level Administrator though, the creature has a clear grasp of the realities of combat, with our major negotiation including a deadline to clear a half dozen of their dungeons each quarter. Luckily, we don�t need to commit our own forces to this directly, so the moment I step through the Portal, I issue a series of Quests for Kim to pin to the Adventurer�s Board. I even include an all-expenses paid Portal to the location.

When I�m done, I flash a grin at the trio of grumpy occupants in my office. They�re all seated in their respective seats, their System screens floating visibly in front of them.

�Sorry. Forgot I gave up this office,� I say, nodding to Lana, who lets out a theatrical sigh.

Katherine sniffs slightly, making her displeasure quite clear. As for the last participant, I�m surprised to see him here actually.

Peter Steele (Level 38 Planetary Diplomat)

HP: 980/980

MP: 1780/1780

Conditions: Aura of Temperance, Scale Balancer, Diplomat�s Shield

�Peter,� I greet the Diplomat with a grin, shaking the trim African American�s hand. The man has a great smile which shows all his pearly white teeth while enveloping you in a comforting warmth. In the corner of my eyes, I see the ping of a resisted Mental Influence, his Charisma breaking against my mental resistances. �It�s been ages.�

�I know,� Peter says with a smile. �I was thinking you were avoiding me.�

�Just busy,� I say, shaking my head. Not as though we�re major friends, but we met and talked in my capacity as settlement leader and before, when he negotiated the agreements in San Francisco.

�Of course,� Peter says, glancing back toward the ladies who are already chatting on their own calls, dealing with recalcitrant settlement owners.

One of the side benefits of the office is its ability to seal off external visual and audible distractions while on a vidcall, allowing us to speak freely. Even as we speak, Peter is busy eyeing the smaller notification screens for the two young ladies.

�I won�t bother you guys. You seem busy,� I say graciously.

�No, I have a few minutes. My last call finished faster than I expected,� Peter says.

�It went well, I hope?� I say.

�Nope,� Ali chimes in as he picks at the snack table the trio have set up in one corner. �I just got their name added to the Ingrid list.�

Peter nods amiably at Ali�s words, his face perfectly serene. �They were particularly upset we would even consider speaking with them after our recent moves in Brazil. It seems we missed the fact that the Iwik Corporation which owned Lucas do Rio Verde is actually owned by the second brood mate of the Third Head. Taking the settlement was considered a breach of the peace.�

�I wonder how we missed that.� My voice drips with sarcasm.

�Diplomacy is a matter of knowledge and understanding. A proper diplomatic mission should take many factors into account. Your�our�recent actions have been extremely rushed,� Peter says with a grimace.

�You�ve had four years.�

�And hundreds of Galactic parties to investigate,� Peter counters. �It is already a miracle we�ve managed to do as well as we did. Thankfully, greed and arrogance are still universal traits.�

I chuckle, a reaction which is obviously to his liking.

�Helps when you and the girls are all Charisma junkies,� Ali adds with a wry grin. �And your Skill, the Greater Good, has worked wonders. I never realized the upgrade of the Skill was so powerful.�

�It is,� Peter says, smirking.

I shake my head slightly, impressed the man was willing to dedicate so many of his Class Skill points to a single Skill. While I know, theoretically, Skills upgrade once you dump ten points into them, I just never had the ability to do so. It takes a certain single-mindedness to be willing to choose one path and stick to it like Peter.

�John, hi. Now, bye. Peter, I want your take on these guys�� Lana interrupts before we can chit-chat more.

I chuckle and deposit bars of chocolate in front of everyone before I head out of the room to the sniff�and crinkling of plastic wrap�from Katherine.

I find the Assassin in a room a short distance from my office, in a comfortable chaise lounger, tight pants showcasing her legs, and an ice cream sandwich in her mouth. When I step in, she starts slightly before she relaxes, continuing to chew on the sandwich.

After swallowing, she says, �Want one?�

�I�m good,� I say, popping out a chocolate bar of my own and finding a chair to sit on. �You called?�

�Yup. Got the list,� Ingrid says and waves.

A moment later, I�ve got the notification with the list of names for the targets and, most importantly, the cost. My eyes bulge out slightly as I spot the final line item. �Are you serious?�

�I know right? I got a great deal,� Ingrid says.

�This is a deal?� I whisper with horrible fascination as I go over the names and Credits. The cheapest bugger to take down is just over two million Credits. I could buy a small spaceship for that much! Of course, it�d be a single-man spaceship which would barely putter around the solar system, but spaceship!

�Yes. What? You think it�s easy going after a settlement owner? Most of the Galactics have banked on their positions to purchase a large number of enchanted objects and Skills via loans. Some of the most in-debt fellows have bank-designated bodyguards,� Ingrid says. �If killing settlement owners was easy, you wouldn�t get a nifty Title for doing it.�

�You have a title?�

�Oh, right! I have mine hidden,� Ingrid says with a smile then gestures again.

Settlement Killer

Murderer, killer, assassin! Where the title holder goes, other owners will fear. The Settlement Killer is the bane of good order in well-run settlements and the hope of the downtrodden in despotic settlements. In the end, killer and savior are but two sides of the same coin.

Effect: Title owner gains a 5% increase in damage done to settlement owners

�How come I never got one?� I frown. I�ve killed a few myself.

�Wars and combat don�t count. Sort of.� Ingrid shrugs. �I got mine after five kills. The number is higher if you receive your kills in a different way. It also depends on the settlement importance and the owners� Levels, as I understand it.�

�I could look into it if you want, boy-o. I�m sure there�s a �completion rate� somewhere.�

�Never mind. It�s not that important.�

I turn my attention back to the list and shake my head, closing it out. �I can offer a little bit to the cause, but I don�t have the settlement funds anymore. Bipasha might be a better option��

�Oh, I got the girls and Roxley to cough up the funds for eighty percent of them,� Ingrid says with a smirk. �We just want your feedback on the list itself.�

I nod slowly, taking a closer look. If we have to cut a bunch of those, we�ll want to find those who might be intimidated or backed off sufficiently. It�d help as well to have the settlements near others which might be hesitating. Maybe we could trade one settlement to another�

Thoughts spinning, I balance the numbers, names, and political affiliations with their geographic distance and cost. It�s only when nearly a half hour has passed and I�ve crossed out a bunch of names on the list that I realize Ingrid is still lounging on the chair, eyes half closed.

�Don�t you have anything better to do?� I say.

�What makes you think I�m not doing it?� Ingrid smirks. �Ninety percent of assassination is about planning.�

I take the rebuke, having forgotten she could easily be staring at her notifications. In fact, it�s probably what she was doing. I consider prodding further but decide against it. Instead, I ask a more personal question. �Are you okay with this?�

�With what?�

�All the killing,� I say. �I know you�ve been doing it for a while, but��

�But you never asked?�

�Yeah.�

�It�s what I can do,� Ingrid says softly. �It�s all I have left. They took everything else away.� I wince slightly, the movement hidden almost as soon as it started. But it�s enough for Ingrid to spot. �Are you pitying me?�

�No!�

�Good,� Ingrid says and continues to stare.

Eventually, I look away, my discomfort with the emotional outburst breaking through my self-control. Or perhaps, I let it break. Because among friends, you can be more yourself.

�Because I wouldn�t want pity from someone that easily fooled.�

�Easily�� My eyes narrow, and the First Nation�s woman returns my stare with a slight smile. I wonder if she�s telling the truth, if what she said was the truth or a lie after the fact to cover a moment of honesty. �Funny.�

�Now, shoo. You�re a bit too big and distracting for me,� Ingrid says and shoos me out of the room.

I leave, shaking my head. I swear, it feels as if everyone keeps kicking me out of rooms, cities, and countries.

Dealing with the settlement owners is mostly a job for the others, whether or not my advice was requested. My task list, as usual, mostly deals with Portaling individuals around, planning, and conducting raids with Mikito. Since things have progressed to this point, the pair of us are doing our best to project force to the various settlement owners and clear up any obligations we can. While it sounds simple enough, not everything is going our way.

�What do you mean the champions aren�t going to help us?� I ask Mikito as we stroll through the destroyed town.

We�ve been porting around so much lately, I can�t even recall exactly where we are�some Baltic country with rolling hills and cobbled streets. The destroyed, small stone buildings and the empty streets offer few clues, especially since I don�t read the local language. The fact that this is an ex-settlement is even more tragic, the city key sold off at some point in the last few years. Now, it�s just a ghost town, a reminder of better days.

�As an organization. Individually, some will back us up. Rae, Jessica, and Jamal are working the Caribbean. But Jessica has to tread carefully,� Mikito says, shaking her head. �Local politics. Cheng Shao is saying she has training of her own to do and is refusing to take part except for official business. Hugo is busy getting the settlements ready in Europe for the Movana. And he hates your guts even more.�

�Because I set up his people to take the brunt of the Movana�s retaliation?� Sadly, since Hugo and his people are literally next to the Movana, their settlements are pretty much guaranteed to get hit.

Mikito nods, and I sigh. We fall silent for a bit as a group of half-owl, half-deer creatures charge out of a cross street, forcing us to focus. When we�re done, I make sure to open a Portal for the group of enthusiastic Butchers waiting to collect the bodies.

The small Town on the savannah on the other end of the Portal is probably one of the most pitiful settlements I�ve come across. Somehow, they�ve managed to be surrounded by a large number of monsters who are all inedible, a rather impressive feat considering the System makes most meat edible. They�d been surviving off a dungeon that had produced a series of mutated wild boars until a year ago, when a passing team of Galactic Adventurers �helpfully� cleared the dungeon. Since then, they�ve been purchasing food directly from the Shop. Katherine had contacted them to get their vote and struck a deal to help finance a long-range teleportation pad in the medium term and to supply them with food in the short term.

Which is how I came to be out here with Mikito, dealing with two birds. Killing monsters to cover our side of a security deal for a nearby settlement and providing food for another. It still surprises me sometimes how there are portions of humanity, of human settlements, which have yet to progress to dealing with Level 50-plus monsters. Even with the experience boost in the first year, many struggled to progress not because they couldn�t, but they wouldn�t.

Fear keeps them down, keeps them from pushing themselves. And it�s in those locations which the Galactics come with their Levels and Skills, Adventurers who have chosen to grow strong. Unfortunately, their presence, their overwhelming courage is a mental blow some humans cannot stand. When every single Galactic you meet is strong, powerful, and confident, willing to risk life and limb, and you�re struggling to survive another day, well� it�s hard to accept. Even if, logically, you understand you�re seeing a small, selective sample.

And so, settlements stagnate. People grow weary, focused on going back to living their �normal� lives. They farm out jobs to others in Quests, giving up experience and loot for safety, sacrificing future strength for current comfort. And so, here we are. People like Mikito and me walk the hills while other Adventurers and the gear we�ve brought releases a multi-kilometer taunt. It�s a bit more effective than us running around and hoping to find something to kill.

�Sensors are reporting we�ve got another horde coming in from the south,� Ali reports to us, flicking the updated map to our notifications.

Without a word, we switch directions and jog toward the attack zone. It�s nice to hang out with Mikito, even if it�s not the best use of our resources at this moment. But with only a few days left before the vote, getting involved in anything too elaborate is probably a bad idea.

The horde of monsters is another weird owl-creature combination. There�s an owl-bear, owl-deer, and even an owl-skunk that we have to fight. It looks like Dr. Moreau was working through his owl fixation and left the door to his lab open.

I duck, throwing a series of Mana Darts into a beaked face, watching as the blue projectiles blind the creature. I step in, launching a series of short punches which throws the monster backward before I conjure my sword and cut, ripping a hole through its body and its friend behind it.

A screech resounds, my sense of balance shaking briefly before my resistances and the helmet�s defenses kick in, cutting off the noise. Beside me, Mikito is staggering and swinging her polearm. Unlike me, she seems to be going with it, using the induced vertigo and the long reach of her weapon to create an unpredictable vortex of destruction. Anything that gets hit by the blade of her naginata is dismembered and left to flop uselessly on the ground.

An owl-skunk bends over and sprays, sending a visible cloud of fast-moving gas toward us. I hop backward while casting a fireball spell. I let it explode right in front of my hand, the overpressure from the spell battling against the smell. Of course, I get caught in the back-blast of my own spell, but it�s a decent trade. Normal skunks are bad enough�a System-enhanced one features in my northern nightmares.

The entire fight takes less than five minutes to finish. It�s a scary thought, but fights have become so routine, so simplistic even when we aren�t over-Leveled against the monsters we face, the entire damn thing is boring. It�s rare now for fights to actually force me to concentrate. I know, having chatted with a few �real� soldiers from before the System, arrogance like this is a good way to get killed. But I wonder if that piece of wisdom is true anymore.

Back then, a misstep meant a bomb going off in your face, a bullet to the chest. Make a mistake and even if you came out alive, you were in for days, years, of permanent pain and reconstruction. Now, ten minutes later, you�re good to go. And with the way HP works, what would be a deadly attack for a Level 10 is nothing more than a scratch for me. So where�s the line between the wisdom of the past and the reality of the present? I�m not entirely sure, and it worries me.

�John, head east. Mikito, southwest. We have other teams dealing with the smaller incursions.�

Ali�s tone of command breaks my musings, bringing my attention back to the present. Whatever my thoughts, they aren�t pertinent to our current excursion.

Hours later, Mikito and I meet again in the center of town. Teams of scavengers have gone to pull the many corpses back to the town center, where we�ll loot then dispose of the corpses through my intermittently opened Portal. In the meantime, Mikito�s showing me a few new forms to play with. When the notification finally pops up, I find the slight tension in my shoulders relaxing.

�And it�s on. Mikito, Peshawar. John, Kuala Lumpur,� Ali orders once he�s assessed the information transferred.

�Damn it.� I don�t have access to Kuala Lumpur. It wasn�t exactly on the list of places for me to visit. Which I guess is why the Movana chose to attack it. Either way, it won�t stop me. I can pop down to one of the nearby cities with a long-range teleportation pad and get sent to the city within seconds. It�ll just take a little longer. I�m already forming a Portal for Mikito.

�Good luck,� Mikito says to me as she ducks through the dark oval.

I hope that wherever I�m sending her, it�s safe. Not being able to tell what�s on the other side has caused more than one problem for the Erethrans before. It�s why, even though I�ve tried to visit as many new locations as possible to set down waypoints, I�ve also had to do more than just pop in. Moving around the city and its surroundings enough to lay down sufficient waypoints means that an ambush is much harder to set.

It�s only when the Samurai is gone that I realize I forgot to wish the woman well too.

Oops.

I�m sure she�ll be fine.

Chapter 19

Sometimes, when you bitch, the world answers. I�m once again reminded of that fact as I�amusingly enough�crouch on top of Malaysia�s famous twin towers, the night sky twinkling behind me. No haze today�or any day recently with the decline of gasoline-powered vehicles. I�m crouched right between the two towers actually, on the skywalk they�d created. I chose this spot for a few reasons, including the fact that I didn�t expect anyone would think I�d be dumb enough to pop into being hundreds of feet in the air on a gently swaying platform when there�re more comfortable, indoor locations.

Good news is, there wasn�t an ambush awaiting me. Bad news�the forces the Movana sent to take over the city consist of six peak Advanced Classers, twelve mid-range Advanced Classers, and one brutish Master Class. The biggest problem is, one of the peak Advanced Classers was actually a Mercenary Commander whose Skills boost the entire mercenary company�s stats. That left me with the dual problem of locating either of those priority targets and ending them. And deciding who to go for first. I can�t let them take the city or we�ll lose our vote, but as Mercs, I�d rather keep the body count down if possible.

�Ali. Anything?� I call, hoping his answer might give a clue which way fate wants me to go.

�Still updating. Lots of interference, but data�s coming in,� Ali says, floating above the drop. When I look at him, I feel my stomach lurch a little, but his body doesn�t even move under the winds which buffet us up here.

Take out the man who is boosting everyone or the blade driving straight for the heart of the settlement. Normally, it�d be an easy choice�take the Commander because his increase is wide-ranging. But I�ll bet they�ve got a few Advanced Classes protecting the Commander. So not attacking him actually pins down and makes useless a bunch of their men.

As I ponder, the data flashes again and details on the Master Class updates. He�s headed straight for the City Core. If he takes it, he can transfer the city�s numerous defenses over to the attackers, making the battle even harder. Even if we take it back, this fight is as much about morale and showing that we can protect our friends as much as it is winning. We don�t just have to win; we have to win with style.

�Okay, these dots are probably the command group. Lots of data flowing in and out from them, and the comm boys are intercepting a bunch of encrypted traffic flowing towards them. They�re trying to shut it down, but well, they�re under-Leveled,� Ali says.

I judge distances and angles, manipulate my map for a second, and watch as it updates as I plot where to go and how. Without any major waypoints in the city, I need to start setting some down while I traverse the area. At the rate the Master Class is going, I figure I have about eight to ten minutes before he hits the City Core. Maybe more if the resistance he faces is significant enough.

�Can you plot the fastest way in to the command group?� I send over the link while I spend a few moments pulling up the details of the Malaysian defenses to add to the map. Better to have two heads rather than one.

Interestingly enough, unlike the rest of us, the Kuala Lumpur�s settlement owner invested incredibly heavily on fixed defenses. Not only is there the usual slew of beam turrets, mobile sentry robots, and settlements shields, there are also explosive wards, lightning, fire and ice orbs located in self-contained and self-managed turrets. The entire city seems to have been restructured to create a slowly shrinking ring of traffic around the City Core. Multiple layers of shields and walls have popped up since the attack, forcing attackers to either follow the route or blast their way through a settlement shield. It takes me a moment to realize what it looks like�a tower defense given life.

Of course, any attacker can punch their way directly through�and the Master Classer is�but the shields regenerate so fast taking them down requires a ton of Mana and firepower. Rather than waste their Mana on fixed, regenerating defenses, the majority of the mercenary corp has elected to run the ring.

�Done. But I don�t think they�re going to be able to hold against that Juggernaut.�

�Then we need to be fast.� I share my own plot with the Spirit who does the same with me. Within seconds, we�ve adjusted the plots to come to a common consensus of where and how we should go.

�Ready when you are.�

I don�t answer the Spirit, instead bunching up my feet beneath me and throwing myself forward, taking through the air. At the apex of my jump, I Blink Step. I hit the roof with one bounding step, bouncing forwards across the gravel top and push off for the next roof even as Ali zips along behind me. Two more Blink Steps, one right over a dagger-close firefight in a crowded back alleyway, and I�m nearly on them, my speed fully built up.

Momentum and one last Blink Step takes me into the middle of the command group, a human wrecking ball covered in Shields and blades, tossing aside the outer ring of mercenaries. Even at the speed I�m moving, I�ve got enough time to scan the group for their Classes. In the middle of battle, Ali�s simplified them all to say Guardian, Warrior, Paladin, Soldier, Mage, or Mercenary Commander�a guide to what I can expect rather than an unusual Class and title I have to spend precious seconds understanding.

�Now!�

The Mercenary Commander roars the command as the Guardian and Soldier next to him brace and take my charge, absorbing my momentum with their mass and Skills. Even as I come to a stop, the mercs are reacting, some picking themselves off the ground while others are training weapons and Skills at me.

You are Quantum Locked. Teleportation and dimensional shifting is restricted.

It�s a trap. Of course it�s a trap. I duck low as spells impact, and I drop the grenade from my hand. The obfuscation grenade throws up smoke, metal particles, and chaos Mana in equal order to disrupt senses. A moment later, the chaos grenades I dropped on my way in explode.

Luck. It�s on my side this time. A howl echoes through the battleground as a tornado of sound and wind appears where one grenade dropped, incapacitating the nearest merc and driving all of us to the ground. Even through my resistances, the pain is enough to shake me for a few precious seconds. Extremely dangerous as the second chaos grenade had formed a ball of chaos energy. It constantly spits out a stream of random energy and material. I see a single shot tear apart a Fighter�s arm like wet paper while a second blast completely heals another Mage. Another merc gets hit with a stream of what looks like soda water while the ground turns into Jell-O around another energy burst.

Fortunately, I don�t get hit. In the few seconds of peace I�ve been given, I begin the next steps, calling down the Beacon of Angels while my other hand forms my sword, trailing weapons appearing behind it. I step forward and lunge at the defensive shields the Mercenary Commander�s bodyguards have put up.

�You�re trapped, Redeemer. Give up or else we�ll tear this city down, brick by brick,� the Mercenary Commander says, having recovered nearly as well as I have. I can�t even tell what sex it is�if it has a sex�as it uses a voice synthesizer and, like anyone with a pair of brain cells to rub together, it has a full-face helmet with visor. It looks roughly human, even if its arms have webbed wings beneath them.

�I haven�t even started,� I say, watching as the recovering mercs target me. My swords have punched through the portable shield the Soldier was using, but the Guardian has switched places with the Soldier with a weird push-pull swap Skill. It�s not quite teleportation, but it�s so smooth it might as well be. That�s okay, because the attack was mostly a distraction.

�Say hello to the rain, baby!� Ali crows, making himself visible as he punctuates his words with a thump of a drum.

Those who look up get a chance to see the incoming beam, but everyone else just gets hit. Power pours onto us, my Soul Shield absorbing and displacing the damage before it cracks and breaks. My Hardened and Elastic Skin Skills provide little benefit right now, the damage being direct Mana damage; they only protect me from secondary effects. But Shields and skills are insufficient, especially since I call a second Beacon immediately. A portion of my mind splits enough to toss up a Soul Shield while I stab a Minor Healing Potion into my thigh, recovering my health.

The Beacon is pure Mana, a rip in the plane of existence itself. It overloads the environment�s ability to handle the Mana within seconds, setting fire to the air and searing the earth, the asphalt melting beneath our feet and the earth itself smoking. Buildings which have lasted through the apocalypse itself and the battle for settlements become naught but torn ruins, brick and cement vaporizing or shattering under the force of the winds.

Once the Beacon falls�and my Shield along with it�I throw out another Spell�Firestorm. The flames from the attack erupt around me, eating into flesh and bones, searing skin and crisping hair. Choked off screams ring all around me as throats are burned raw, lungs robbed of oxygen.

When I�m done, only the Advanced Classers are left. Almost all the Basic Classers are but crispy corpses, their health insufficient to handle the damage I have laid out. But there�s a price for a flashy attack like this� between the Skills, my Blink Steps, and my buffs, my Mana is down by half. At least my health is mostly there, the small amount taken from my own spell recovering.

�They were good men�� the Mercenary Commander snarls as he levers himself upward. The helmet is shattered, the armor cooked away, the skin-wings under his arms gone. For all his talking, I notice the Commander�s hands moving at his belt, probably throwing out commands and Skills. A second later, the helmet drops off his neck entirely, separating and revealing a double-snouted face with tiny beady eyes, a face that is busy consuming a weird red globule. A health potion variant for sure, since the Commander�s skin heals right before my eyes.

�Shouldn�t have messed with the best,� Ali crows from above.

The Spirit twists away as a surviving Soldier opens up with a beam rifle hooked up directly into its arm, sending a spray of electric darts even as the Spirit accesses my storage. Within seconds, more obfuscating grenades are tossed out as the Spirit flies around, dueling the Soldier. I don�t have time focus on him as I call back my swords and tear into the pair of bodyguards who are still standing.

The three of us dance, my superior Skills chipping away at their armor and weapons. Unfortunately, both of them are actually more skilled than I am�decades of experience fighting humanoids compared to my half-decade of fighting anything that moves. The two of them are able to dodge a good chunk of my attacks while chipping away at my own health.

The Commander is relaxing a little, seeing as they seem to be on the winning end after my initial display. At which point, I decide to pull the rug out from under him, having sucked my Mana Bracer dry while dueling the pair.

Vanguard of the Apocalypse kicks in with an exertion of will as I throw a sweeping cut boosted with Cleave. The explosion in attribute and speed catches the Guardian by surprise, his hasty block pushed aside and my blade disemboweling him. Another exertion of will and mental energy and a Mud Walls forms behind the pair, pushing them toward me. The Soldier doesn�t budge an inch as his Skill Hold your Ground counteracts my spell. The Guardian, on the other hand, isn�t as lucky and is pushed forward, right into the Thousand Blades which are still moving.

�Suppressive Fire,� the Soldier snarls, triggering a new Skill.

I end up throwing myself sideways, feeling beams burn my calf and ankles as I move a touch too slow. Truth be told, the additional wounds are nothing�our flesh is already cooked from the melted asphalt. I�m just grateful the Soldier feels the need to scream his Skill usage.

As I recover from my roll, pain held at bay by discipline and my resistances, I find my beam pistol in my hand. I�ve already dropped the Vanguard Skill, the momentary boost having done its job. Instead, I rely on the beam pistol as I move in the obscuring smoke and dust, firing at the Soldier and the Mercenary Commander who has pulled out his own bulky assault weapon. With my last sword passing through the corpse of the Guardian, I dismiss them rather than wasting further Mana, flicking my Soul Shield back on. It�s going to be a long fight and these guys are just the appetizers.

The attack comes from nowhere. I sense the movement a fraction of a second before the blades are about to plunge into me. Insufficient time to dodge, insufficient time to block. I try anyway.

Rather than searing pain and repeated notifications of poisoning, my senses process the distinctive ring of blades. Twisting to the side as I move backward, I spot the Master Class assassin in desperate battle with Ingrid even as the bait disappears further into the obscuring smoke.

�About time,� I gasp in relief and drop behind a crumpled corpse.

I�d shoot the damn assassin, but the pair are fighting so close and fast I�m as likely to hit my friend. Still, I have to grin as our trap finally worked. I�m even happier to see that the assassin is bleeding and fighting with only a single arm remaining. Part of the reason we spent so much time plotting my route and taking a couple of detours was to ensure our assassin could get in place in time.

�Incoming,� Ali snaps, and I stare at the minimap. It�s fuzzy and jumpy but slowly getting better as the interference from the massive Mana dumps and the chaos energy disperse. Thankfully, since those are our grenades, we�ve got their Mana signature stored, giving us a slight advantage in clearing our screens.

I cast the Improved Invisibility spell and scramble upward, putting away the beam pistol. I stalk the Soldier as he comes across Ingrid and the assassin, visibly hesitating to take a shot like I did. The hesitation costs him, for I take his arm then his head with my swords.

�Need help?� I send to Ali.

He sends a mental confirmation, then almost immediately updates me with a new minimap. I growl, realizing the Mercenary Commander has decided to run for it. I do the math and realize I won�t reach him before he hits the reinforcements.

�Ingrid, reinforcements soon,� I growl and turn back to the dueling pair. Or at least, where they were. I frown, realizing they�ve disappeared. �Damn it!�

Without any other target, I run toward Ali while trying to figure out my next steps. I needed the quantum lock down, but with the Commander still around and free, it doesn�t seem as though it�s going to happen. Killing him and his reinforcements should be possible, unless he runs again. The problem is, doing so will drain more of my Mana and the time I�ve allocated to this.

When I get to Ali, the Spirit is looking much the worse for wear. He�s got a floating electric shield around him, which is taking the repeated blasts from the Soldier attacking him, but cracks show up all around. Still, I manage to make my way close enough to shove all four of my swords into the Soldier�s back then twist them out, dropping him.

�Feel like an assassin,� I growl.

�Kind of the point.� Since he isn�t in need of his full size, the Spirit is back to his foot and a half sizing. Unfortunately, this particular quantum lock type disallows the Spirit from fading back into the dimension he normally resides within to interact with me. For now, he�s as real as I am.

As we speak, reinforcements stream in and blindly fire into the fog. Rather than risk getting shot, we run toward the nearest settlement shield. It drops long enough to allow us in, chased by beam weaponry. A low whoop of happiness appears behind us, one which is cut off as the replacement shield flickers back online.

�Can�t do that too often, John. The original shield is now on recharge and refresh, so each section we take down is weakened.�

�I know. We just need to get away from the lock,� I answer the Spirit as we sprint forward. Hopefully they�ll drop the quantum lock once they realize I�m deep enough in the spiral they won�t ever catch up. Or perhaps I�ll get far enough away I can shatter it with my Class Skill.

Habit has me running in a zig-zag pattern as I attempt to get to the next shield as fast as I can. It�s all that saves me when a trio of spells lands where I would have been if I hadn�t zigged. Ice erupts from the ground, creating crystalline towers as the temperature drops and lightning discharges futilely.

�Out of the fire�� I growl, ducking into a nearby building to buy myself more time as I realize one flaw with my newest escape plan. I�m now right in the middle of the mercenary company�s vanguard.

�Mr. Lee! Where are you? The Master Class is nearly at our core.� The shrill, panicked voice of the Austronesian man rings out in my helmet as his priority message gets through. A small video image also pops up in the corner of my eyes, briefly obscuring the more important health and Mana bars.

�I�m quantum locked. The Mercenary Commander got away,� I say, gritting my teeth. �He had a lot more life-saving Skills and equipment than expected. We did take out four of the peak Advanced Classers though.�

�The Master Class is the issue! When will you be here?� the settlement owner snarls, almost panting with desperation. I see the fear in his wide eyes and I briefly wonder how the hell someone who panics so easily could have gotten and held the settlement. But�

�I�ll be there as soon as I can get out of the field,� I say then kill the connection. Thousand hells. �We�re going to have to run.�

�Yay. More running,� Ali says dryly. A flicker later, his entire clothing choice has changed to a familiar red-and-gold suit with lightning bolts along the side.

�Made it,� I say as I use Ali�s viewpoint to Blink Step into a peaceful scene. The guard room leading to the City Core is still in one piece, which is perfect, especially considering it took me nearly four minutes to break the quantum lock and get here. I�d been forced to use some of the Mana I�d regained to port to the nearest rooftop and then more precious time waiting for Ali to get in position, which means I�m cutting it too close for comfort. As it stands, my regeneration has only recovered me to sixty percent of my health and forty percent of my Mana.

�Finally!� the Malay man snarls from a monitor set up high on the wall.

He�s hunkered down in the room behind us, the last, last line of defense, with a giant beam cannon pointed at the doorway. Even from here, I can tell the weapon is meant more for taking out vehicles than people. Which might make it just about powerful enough to annoy the Juggernaut.

�Ali?� I call. I absently note the heads of the guards behind me turn toward each other, probably trading glances, but I don�t explain why I�m talking into thin air. We don�t have time. �Open the doors and let me out.�

The guards comply, the doors sliding upward to let me out. The moment the doors open, the noise of battle washes in. Screams, the tearing sounds of walls breaking, and the hiss of beams echo through the hallway before me. I duck out even as the settlement leader screams at them to shut it.

Gods, but I hate politics.

My thoughts are cut short as the wall ahead of me explodes, a fist emerging from it. As the clouds disperse, I�m forced to ask, �What is it with me and big creatures lately?�

I stare at the giant who walks in. The creature could best be described as a mixture of an ape crossed with a crocodile and given a pair of sparkling pink horns. Crouched low on all four of its limbs, its scaly Galactic shoulders still brush against the ceiling every time it moves, its horns tearing channels in the ceiling.

Ooi Eea, Contracted Son, The Great Sinner (Juggernaut Level 29)

HP: 16894/17210

MP: 279/750

Conditions: Contracted, Health Drip, Greater Mana Regeneration, Spatial Lock

�Before you ask. It�s a sort of summoning Skill, except it shoves the summon inside his body. It�s partly why his health is so damn ridiculous. Good news, it only lasts as long as he can sustain the Mana cost. Bad news, he knows it,� Ali says. �You fight him direct. I�m going to disrupt the bond as much as I can, increase the cost.�

I can�t help but let out a low groan at the Spirit�s words, but Ooi has obviously done enough looking. Naked as it might be, the creature rushes me, barrelling down the long corridor. My hands move, pulling and tossing portable shield generators, remotely activating them the moment they land. Within seconds, I have four generators right in front of me. Even then, I add a Soul Shield to myself as the living wrecking ball picks up speed and grows purple with literal flames erupting from his body.

�Oh hell,� I breathe as the first three shields shatter while barely slowing down the Juggernaut.

In fact, as it breaches the third, the damn thing actually picks up speed as it triggers its titular Skill. Time slows as I run through my options and decide on the stupidest one as usual. I form my floating swords in front of me and hunker down low, bracing the original weapon against my body and the floor and casting Harden on myself.

Then, there�s no more time. The impact throws me backward, my Strength insufficient to hold it back, even with my new skill in manipulating it. I�m pancaked against the reinforced blast doors, my Soul Shield having shattered all around me. I feel a tiny trickle of health return from the damage as Elastic Skin activates even as the Juggernaut peels its body away from me, low grunts of pain erupting from its mouth. As Ooi moves away, I get a glimpse of the torn-up floor between where I made my stand and here.

Before Ooi can recover, I hitch my legs up, while supported by the blast doors, and kick forward, sending the surprised Juggernaut staggering backward. I push away from the doors the next moment, dropping lightly to the floor. Pain finally catches up, the cracked bones in my legs refusing to cooperate anymore.

�Fuck.�

�Master Class. Weak,� Ooi says then pauses to spit to the side. The stream of greenish blood is disturbing to see, as are the numerous broken blades jutting out from the Galactic�s body. With a thought, I dismiss them all, allowing the wounds to bleed freely. Anything for a little advantage. �Tricks are fools.�

�Yeah, yeah. Be glad I didn�t drop you from the sky,� I growl back.

�Try,� Ooi says with a laugh.

�No can do, boy-o. The Spatial Lock Condition? That�s him locking himself down. A lot cheaper than locking down the entire area like you do.�

�Fine. Bluff called.� I stand as I regain control of my body. Each second lets my Skill and Greater Regeneration tick my health up, so I stall. �But tell me something, how much are you guys paid to lose?�

�Don�t care. Fight.� Ooi lurches forward, covering the ground in a single step and following it with a well-executed and fast jab. Ooi�s body is wreathed with lightning which flows from his horns, his body erupting with power and savagery.

If you�ve ever had to try to dodge a jab the size of a microwave, you realize how difficult it is. I get most of the way away before the jab hammers the edge of my shoulder. The jab carries with it a charge, frying flesh and seizing muscles slightly. But I�m not just standing around, my sword coming upward to cut at the joints at the elbow. One thing spending four years in a hell planet has taught me�if it�s got joints, it�s got tendons. Cut those, and you buy yourself time.

His arm droops slightly, but he�s already pulling it back as his other arm arcs toward me. And stops as reason overcomes instinct. My floating blades are following the motion of my initial attack, blocking his retaliation. He could push through, bash the swords aside, but he�d risk cutting himself apart. Even so, his retracted arm gets sliced up as it gets caught on the first of the attacking blades.

I don�t stop, but neither does he. He launches a low kick strong enough to shatter bones. I step sideways into the attack, feeling the edge of his foot brush against my thigh and leaving what will be a humongous bruise. Even as I step away, my arm is swinging down, the conjured blade falling right into my grip as I cut the exposed foot. It skitters along his scales, biting into the muscle and bone underneath and shaving off a few scales. Ignoring the futile cut, I snatch one of the falling blades with my other hand and swing it to disembowel him. My strike is battered aside by an elbow, a precursor to a rising uppercut.

We dance in the cramped corridor, the Juggernaut and I. The Juggernaut blocks, kicks, and punches, using its tough scaly hide and an occasional burst of lightning from its horns to damage and distract. I swing, cut, and thrust with my blades, using my soulbound and conjured weapon to bleed the monster. The blades flow, lunge, and twist around us in patterns of preordained movement, cutting off lines of attack and movement.

Ooi is stronger than me, faster, and with significantly more health. But the style of fighting I use, the blades which never stop moving, which restrict lines of attack and open at my command, is new to him. Numerous times, the Juggernaut has to abort instinct-driven combos. Numerous times, I see him visibly hesitate as he does the shish-kebab math.

In a close quarters fight like this, at the speeds and strength we use, hesitation is a loss. A loss of one punch, one kick, one cut. But the ones keep adding up. Blows land on tendons and ligaments, shredding scales and tearing muscle. Each attack, each movement, drains the Juggernaut�s massive health pool, whittling down the Galactic.

But it�s not all one-sided. Even through the focus and resistances, the pain from my accumulating injuries piles up. The creature is too big to dodge fully. The Juggernaut isn�t the only one restricted in his movements, and I�m forced often to discard a promising line of attack or defense, to dismiss my swords as I spin and twist away. But fists, elbows, and feet brush past me, chipping away at my health, adding bruises and light shocks with each attack. Each attack replaces a touch of Mana, is reduced by my Class Skills. But only partially.

A hook comes, cutting through the air and leaving a hiss of ozone behind as I�m forced to jump backward. The charge releases as it brushes against my stomach, throwing me backward even further, and I�m brought up short by the gates again. They creak and groan as I bounce off them to fall on my knees. Blood dribbles from my mouth as I�m seized by a coughing fit, the sweet smell of blood and the acrid burn of raw ozone filling my lungs.

�Not weak,� the Juggernaut says, held back by the still-spinning blades. The Galactic is bleeding from numerous cuts and on one knee, its opposite hand hanging useless by his side. Tiny eyes glow with power, lightning wreathing its only arm as it punches forward to smash away my blades.

The two of us stare at one another over the distance of only five feet, unhindered.

�No. No, I�m not.� I cough.

It�s now a question of regeneration. Once its leg is healed, the Juggernaut will rush me. If my Mana recovers, I can recall my blades, cast a Spell. Blink Step to get away. But the low warning thrum through my nerves tells me I�m nearly drained, the pain in my head from Mana loss mixed with that of an abused body. A glance upwards tells me I�m in the low hundreds now, enough for a single spell.

�It�s over.� Ali floats down, making his body appear. In his hands, a glowing ball of plasma is contained, one which I can see the Spirit compacting further and further with his affinity as he faces off against the Juggernaut. �You�re nearly out of Mana.�

I blink, then stare at the Juggernaut, at the Juggernaut�s Mana pool. Forty-three. Forty-two. The Juggernaut snorts, anger in its eyes as it forces itself to stand, sending fresh blood bursting from its wounds. Ali raises his hands, the glowing plasma ball a clear threat.

�Move and I throw this at your feet. You�ll get real stumped then if you don�t block with a Skill. Use it, and your Spatial Lock and Contract ends. And boy-o will make you swim the Pacific Ocean,� Ali bluffs while my own Mana ticks upwards, nearly ready to make true his words. Nearly.

�Cheating.� The Juggernaut sways slightly, but Ali just smirks.

�Tell your Mercenary Commander he�s either going to lose his Master Class or he pulls back,� I say softly and push myself up. The injuries I carry�the broken ribs, the dislocated shoulder, the bruised and bleeding internal organs�are numerous, but none of them are crippling. Not yet. It hurts, but I�ve done pain so much, it�s just another day in the apocalypse. I turn on my Aura, the beat of power filling the room. I had it off, since I was fighting alone, but now, I use it to make a point.

The Juggernaut growls at me but doesn�t move. And every second he waits, his Mana drains and mine rises. �Done.�

�Wait for it� all right. Confirmed. We�re seeing a slow pullback.�

�Good,� I say. �Drop the Spatial Lock and the Contract. Once we�ve confirmed they�ve pulled back, we�ll let you go.�

�No,� a voice roars over hidden speakers, the settlement owner screaming in rage. �He stays. We�ll try him and strip him down, behead him!�

�Ali, shut him up,� I say while raising a hand at the Juggernaut, hoping the Master Class understands that this is not my position. I see the Juggernaut tense but not move.

�What do you think I am, a brainless series of bits? I got nothing here,� Ali says.

�Fine,� I say. �Drop the Spatial Lock.�

�Why�?� the Juggernaut manages to ask.

�Or do you want stupid to get you?�

Behind me, I hear the blast doors twist and groan, straining as they attempt to open. But the damage done to them from my body pancaking against them repeatedly must have shorted out something.

�I�m commanding you to stop!� the Malaysian settlement owner�s voice grows shriller and higher.

After a brief consideration, the Juggernaut drops its Spatial Lock and I open a Portal underneath our feet, dropping us right through it.

The loud thump and creak of the walkways puts all our teeth on edge. The Juggernaut growls, sitting down heavily as the glass roof�thankfully System-reinforced�creaks again. Together, we stare at the small park and open spaces splayed out before us, the city slowly smoking from the war it just experienced.

�Chocolate?� I offer to the Juggernaut, a hand held out as I continue to stand. Stupid spine�I�m pretty sure I cracked something in my coccyx. But at least no one else has to die.

�Why�d you let him go?� Ali asks me thirty minutes later. I�d have kept the Juggernaut longer, since the pullback isn�t over, but the increasing calls for aid from other settlements under attack forced my hand. Better to get rid of this hot potato.

�Killing him wasn�t a guarantee. Better to get the agreement and pullback now. Even if asshole isn�t letting it go,� I say, rubbing my temple.

Thankfully, whoever was actually in charge of the defense was smart enough to let the mercs run when they wanted to. It didn�t stop the owner from bitching, but I at least had him on mute and feeding into a virtual avatar of myself run through my Neural Link. It wouldn�t fool anyone rational, but stupid isn�t rational right now.

�It almost sounds logical,� Ali says with a snort. �You sure you�re feeling well, John?�

�Any word from Ingrid?� I say softly.

When Ali shakes his head, I grit my teeth. Damn it, Starling, you better be okay.

�Isfahan�s calling again, requesting ETA. Latest update shows they�re really getting hammered.�

I mentally call up the latest map update, overlay it with my waypoints, and grunt. �Then let�s get to work.�

I jump off the building, letting myself build up some speed before opening the Portal right beneath me. Time to bring some hell.

Too late. Days later, I know I�m too late even as the transition into Prague tears at my health, the molecules which make up who I am coming apart before snapping back into place. My body burns as I transition fully, the world snapping into focus while the quantum lock symbol appears before my eyes.

�You are too late.� Musclehead�s voice.

I turn, spotting the Movana, his legs spread and a pair of short blades held lightly in his arms. He�s gloating slightly, challenging me. All around me and on my minimap, enemies populate as my Skill and Ali stabilize and do their jobs. Dozens, then hundreds. I look sideways, seeing the snipers who have me bracketed in the city square I chose.

Sishin Narato (Level 6 Legionnaire)

HP: 1890/1890

MP: 1080/1080

Conditions: Buff, Rallying Presence, Impeccable Taste

�How�d you get me here?� I ask, refreshing my Soul Shield while I calculate trajectories and plot an escape route. No Blink Step. Portaling would be expensive and I�m not entirely sure how�

�A simple redirection,� Sishin says with a smirk. �Your Skill is well-known. A simple matter to find a counter.�

�Working on it, boy-o. Stall them.�

�I take it you�ve taken the City Core,� I say.

Seven snipers above. Just over two dozen soldiers on the ground, ringed around me and blocking any exits. They�re smart enough to space themselves such that they can cut off any route I choose if I do a direct rush. Musclehead is the most dangerous by far, the only Master Class here. But most of those here are at least low Level Advanced Classers. Good enough to slow me down. Good enough to kill me if I stick around to fight.

�Yes. Order your men to stand down. There is no reason for additional deaths,� Sishin says, the swords swinging by his side easily.

�Not my men. I�m just a helper,� I say.

�Rubbish. They�ll listen to you. If you pull them back, we�ll let them leave.�

�Okay, Skill is called Spatial Twist. It�s an area effect Skill, but it triggers whenever a spatial or dimensional rip occurs. It diverts the �tunnel,� if you will, into a specific location. Bad news�it only costs a little Mana to keep active. Good news�when it actually diverts, it�s a huge cost.�

�So what? Multiple Blink Steps and hope they run out of Mana before I run out health?�

�Why let them go?� I say out loud. The unasked implication is why he isn�t shooting at us already.

�Orders. We are not your enemies, Mr. Lee,� Sishin says, the slight grim smile still on his face.

�Pretty sure the word doesn�t mean what you think it does.� I look around pointedly at the damaged buildings, the guns pointed at me, and the corpses which still line the street.

�This is just necessity,� Sishin says. �If your combatants leave, overall damage will be lower. You will lose less, we will lose less. You know you cannot win at this point.�

I grunt, but he�s right. With them owning the City Core, I�m locked down from bouncing around. We can�t even shift people in, not without them getting killed due to their Spatial Twist Skill. Never mind the fact that getting out is a little tricky right now. �Why not end me now?�

�You make it sound like you�d make it easy,� Sishin replies, eyes narrowing slightly. �No matter how inflated your reputation might be, you are a Master Class. And any battle with you would prolong the battle in this city.�

�Not worried I�d go help somewhere else?� I say.

Sishin shrugs.

�Most likely different factions within the Movana themselves. He probably is hoping you�ll hit them and weaken his allies.�

�That�s idiotic.�

�But effective.�

My lips thin for a moment before I give the order to Ali. Within seconds, we�re connected to the local communication grid and authenticating a pullout. As usual, not everyone agrees with the decision, but when I stress that I�m leaving, it deflates quite a few of the hotheads. Even so, I spend a good fifteen minutes arguing with my people while under the guns of the Movana, a most uncomfortable situation. But when it�s done, Sishin offers me a slight nod.

I still dislike the preening Musclehead, but I have to admit, they�ve allowed us to cut our losses significantly. It�s honorable and maybe a little kind. I wish� well, I wish things were different. I could work with them, I think. But I don�t have time to think about it, not before Ali pushes another urgent request for help even as I�m �escorted� to the city limits.

�What are you doing here?� I cough and drain the water bottle before spitting some of the residual dust from my mouth.

�All hands on deck, remember?� Lana says with a smile.

I snort but look around the short brownstone buildings which surround us in Harlem, just south of 125th street in New York. �Didn�t think they�d drag you in too.�

�No one dragged me. I volunteered to come,� Lana says, her lips curling up slightly. �I always wanted to visit New York. And when the mermen attacked, I couldn�t let it stand.�

I laugh, wondering if she was imagining bad silver age comics. Her griffin drops down from the sky, depositing the carcass of a mutated narwhal on the street and tearing into it with its beak. Roland slinks out from the shadows, yowling in communication with the hissing griffin as they vie over the carcass.

�Puppies?�

�I left Shadow with Katherine,� Lana says. �Howard�s organizing the strays to deal with stragglers.�

�Pardon?� I blink at Lana, who chuckles.

�Howard has gained the ability to lead other canines,� Lana explains. �It seems it�s a side effect of his greater intelligence.�

�Huh.�

I take a moment to stare at the blinking dots on my minimap but see nothing too concerning. The attack was sudden, but the mermen were more enthusiastic and populous than actually effective. We still needed a large number of bodies to deal with them, but on land, their swarm tactics had not ended well.

�Well then�� I say awkwardly when I realize I have no idea what more to say to my ex.

�John, don�t. Not yet.� Lana places a hand on my arm. I stare at her hand and she takes it back with a wry smile. �Sorry.�

�No, it�s fine. We�re still friends,� I say automatically then scratch my head. �Sorry. Just awkward. I mean, I�m good with you and him. Just� you know.�

�Are you really? Okay with us not being together?�

I grimace at the conversation we�re having now, of all times. But if not now, when? When the next crisis hits? We�ve got a moment.

�I am,� I say truthfully. �We had something good. Perhaps it could have been great. But I think we both knew I was always going to leave. Somehow. Some when. The Erethrans just sped up the process.�

For a second, violet eyes stare into mine. Then she snorts. �Are you sure you�re John Lee? Not a doppelg�nger from the Forbidden Zone?�

I laugh but shrug. �I learned a few things about myself. People change. I think it�s about the only thing that saves us from the ghosts of the past.�

�Good. I�m glad. You know��

Before we can continue our discussion, another notification appears, along with an image.

�Are you kidding me? Thousand hells!� I swear, staring at the giant kraken which has emerged from the sea, slithering its bulk towards the shore. Best part�this damn monster seems to have legs!

�That. Was. Disgusting,� I say, kicking the dead monster corpse. It managed to crawl a dozen blocks into downtown Manhattan. In the distance, I hear continued explosions as the defenders push the mermen incursion back into the water.

�You could have given me another minute!� Lana complains as she prods the body, moving down to its lower body.

�What are you looking for?�

�Eggs.�

I stare at the Beast Master and shudder slightly.

�Got you covered, Red!� Ali chirps, swooping down and depositing the loot in her hands.

I shake my head, wondering how the Spirit got around the war loot option. Then again, maybe I shouldn�t ask. Some things it�s better to be ignorant about.

Kraken Egg

May be raised by particularly insane Beast Masters. See Beast Tamer manual for Level, skill, and habitat requirements.

Effect: It hatches. Maybe.

Oh hell.

�No time to waste, boy-o. Got another call!�

For once, I�m grateful for the call to action in another besieged settlement. As I leave, I watch the redhead settlement owner literally cooing over the slimy egg in her hand.

Days later, we�re all seated around the boardroom in the public library in Vancouver. Glowing next to us is a projection of the world, the numerous settlements displayed in differing colors denoting their alliances. I stare at the slowly spinning globe, too tired to really see it. Even with a high Constitution and Willpower, the sheer amount of fighting we�ve dealt with�and the amount of high Level fighting too�has been draining. I haven�t slept in days, and I know Mikito has only managed to catch an hour at my insistence. But�

�How�d we do?� I ask, the slow blinking red of some settlements showing where continued fighting still occurs. Of course, they�ve requested help, but considering the forces arrayed against them, we�ve declined to get personally involved. One danger is getting stuck�forced to fight till we release a quantum lock, during which another settlement is attacked while we�re helpless to provide assistance. It�s happened once before, after all.

�We�re currently up four,� says Lana. �We lost a half dozen settlements to the Movana, but the Truinnar used the distraction to take a few locations themselves. The champions managed to win a few others. The Chinese were particularly effective at re-establishing in Mongolia as well.�

I grunt, staring at the estimated votes we�ll get. Eighty-two percent. If everything goes well, if everyone follows through and we don�t magically lose anyone else. Four successful assassinations, ten more failed ones. Enough fear to make us lose a couple votes. Still, even with our troubles, we�re up. Many of the independents and humans who had been on the fence finally agreed to back us, deciding to grab whatever benefits they could get rather than be forced to stand aside and watch others reap it all as we�re coming up to the finish line. We might even see a few more defectors. Or so we can hope.

�Well done,� I congratulate the group.

Still, our success is not without some cost. There�s been no word from Ingrid. We spent a decent chunk of Credits to confirm she�s alive, but her Skills make it very, very expensive to learn more. All we can do is hope.

Now there�s just one last thing. The actual vote.

Chapter 20

�Incredible,� Lana whispers, and I have to agree.

We�re standing on the viewing platform of the International Space Station, watching as Earth spins below us in all its blue-and-white glory. Amazingly, the station itself has survived the entire apocalypse and come out the other end bigger and better than before.

�I never get tired of looking at it.� The speaker is clad in a simple blue jumpsuit, no armored plates or weapons on him at all, and approaches from my left. The salt-and-pepper-mustached astronaut offers us a smile when he notices he has our attention. �Though the view has changed from the first time I saw it.�

�Commander,� I say, slightly breathless and wide-eyed. I offer him my hand with a jerk. �Thank you. For letting us on.�

Phil Katz, Overwatch, Space Commander, Star-born (Space Commander Level 8)

HP: 980/980

MP: 3780/3780

Conditions: Spatial Awareness, Domain, Gravity Shield

Lana and Mikito cock their heads at me. I ignore their incredulous looks while Commander Phil Katz shakes my hand. After I shake it a little too vigorously for a little too long, he peels his hand away and flexes it discreetly.

�You�ve done an incredible job on the station. It�s a Fort, right? How�d you get the Credits to get it fixed up?� I say as I wave my hand around.

The ISS is no longer the modular, creaky science and exploratory habitat it was before. Now it�s a fully functioning, five-kilometer-long space station with multiple docks for spaceships, remote-controlled arms, a greenhouse, and yes, artificial gravity.

�Now that�s cool.� Ali�s thoughts break through my excitement, along with a notification.

Title: Star-born

A unique title available only to those who are born in the stars (or it looks like, were in space when the System came into play - Ali), the title holder gains an intuitive understanding of space. Of course, the Star-born are hampered when on a planetary object, facing greater difficulties than the landlocked.

Effects: +10% increase in all attributes, Skills, and spells while not on a planetary object. Receive a 10% decrease in all attributes, Skills, and spells when on a planetary object.

The Commander smiles, obviously used to answering impertinent visitors, and humbly but concisely regales us with his and the crew�s adventures. Very soon, the Commander has a small audience as other humans drift over to listen to his story. It�s no surprise. The man is both naturally charismatic and pre-apocalypse famous. But like all good things, it has to end.

�Now that we have more people here,� Phil says before he looks around and waves.

A notification blooms in front of us, one titled �Rules of the ISS.�

�I�m sure you�ve all seen this,� he says. �But I�d like to remind everyone the gathering held in my station is at your request. There will be no violence during the event. Furthermore, there are specific restricted locations. Individuals found breaking the rules will be ejected from the station immediately. There are additional rules for emergency evacuation as well, which I recommend all of you read and comprehend.�

There are nods all around. One of the few advantages of using this location is that up here, the chances of an assassin showing up are extremely low. After all, entry and exit from this station is extremely closely watched. It makes the station a perfect location for the last few hours before the vote. In addition, a number of the settlement owners, including Lana, want to speak with Phil about expanding the station to improve Earth�s ability to trade with the wider galaxy.

As a newly developing Dungeon World, we have a strong draw as a trade hub due to all the rare loot and materials which come from the various imported monsters. Add the mutations of our own terrestrial species and well, we�ve got a lot of trade material. However, the fact stands that not all spaceships are designed to enter atmosphere, so it makes more sense to develop the station to receive incoming freighters and transfer goods back and forth using dedicated transport shuttles. Of course, the upgraded Fort needs a significant influx of Credits to become a fully functioning trade station.

With his pronouncement made, the various other humans dispersed into their own groups.

�Well, nice to meet a group of Canadians, but I�ve got other guests to see to,� the Commander says, flicking his eyes to the clustered groups of Galactics who hang around the large viewing platform.

�Of course, of course,� I say, smiling widely.

Once he�s moved away from us, Phil gets mobbed by the other settlement owners. I admire the man, the way his easy smile never leaves his face even as he answers a million and one questions.

As I stare at his departing figure, I find my thoughts interrupted by giggling. �What?�

�Nothing. Commander.� Lana�s lips twitch while Mikito does her best to keep a straight face.

�Never seen you be so respectful,� Katherine adds.

�That�s Phil Katz,� I hiss and wave. �These guys, all of them, they�re astronauts. The best of the best at� well, anything. And they built this. Of course I�m respectful.�

�I do believe it�s a little case of hero worship,� Ali crows. �Who�d have thought boy-o had a heart?�

�Not me,� a silken smooth voice answers, one which makes me tense and straighten.

Lana�s gaze darts to where the tall Truinnar is then back again to me, her eyes narrowing with suspicion and summation. I ignore it while silently cursing my forgetfulness. Why wouldn�t the damn man be here?

�Roxley,� I say and incline my head.

Roxley raises an eyebrow while Vir meets the inquiring gazes sent his way by Lana and Mikito with his usual imperturbable face.

�Redeemer,� Roxley says with a light smile on his face. But I can tell he�s a bit annoyed at me.

I draw a deep breath, excuses flashing through my mind. I�ve been busy. I forgot to call. I didn�t think we had that kind of relationship. Then I shut down the line of thinking with an exhalation. Later. We�ve got bigger things to fry.

�Are we ready?� I say, my gaze flicking around us as an indication of what I�m speaking of.

It�s strange. Even though theoretically the vast majority of those here are on our side, I still feel as though we�re besieged. Perhaps I just really, really want tomorrow�s vote to go through. Even though we�ll get another chance in another six months, the fragile alliances we�ve managed to weave could easily shatter by then.

�I have acquired the votes and agreements,� Roxley says. �There will not be any surprises on my end.�

�Good.� I relax slightly, though I chide myself after a moment. Of course Roxley�s got his side handled. As long as I�ve known him, he�s handled his affairs well. Well, except for the Duchess, but we were somewhat out-classed then. If it weren�t for my willingness to destroy the entire town to get our way, we probably wouldn�t have won.

Sometimes, I still get nightmares from that day. There are times when I wonder exactly how far I would have gone. And other times, I know. I�m not entirely sure which is worse.

We try a few more polite sentences of conversation, but the tension between Roxley and me is so high the group breaks up soon after. Lana moves over to speak with Katherine to check on who�s wavering and to press hands. Mikito heads over to the Combat Classers to do much the same, in a more direct manner. Me, I head toward Bipasha to confirm we�re good to go.

As I close in on the Bangladeshi woman, I see her in the midst of a discussion with the Chinese representatives. My lips thin slightly, especially as I realize my lip-reading won�t be of much use here. Obviously their choice to use Teochew rather than Mandarin is specifically to avoid people like me lip-reading them. It�s particularly annoying since I actually went and bought the language package from the Shop.

�Mr. Lee.�

�Redeemer.�

�Sir.�

Various other greetings flow from the settlement owners, Bipasha, and their aides. I return the greetings politely enough, smiling and nodding, but it doesn�t take me long to note one particularly young fellow, with a great head of hair and a slight curl to his lips, paying particular attention to me. A quick perusal of his Status offers nothing suspicious.

Fang Lei, Bridge of the Two Rivers (Chosen One Level 38)

HP: 1280/1280

MP: 980/980

Conditions: Shielded, Poison Resistance, Fate�s Kiss

�Interesting Class,� I say to Fang Lei.

The man�s smile grows wider, though smile is a bit generous. Smirk would be a better description. �It�s a prestige Class. Much like yours. Paladin. What a� Western� Class.�

�Galactic actually,� I say with a smile that doesn�t reach my eyes. �And I�m not sure I�ve ever heard the term prestige Class before.�

�I would not expect you to have. It is a term coined only recently, to describe Classes which are rarer and have more stringent requirements. Those which are prestigious.�

�Fang Lei is the only one in China to have received the Class,� an older man says with a smile, patting the younger man�s shoulder almost paternalistically. �We are extremely lucky to have him.�

�And Cheng Shao,� I add, just to see to their reaction. It�s everything I expected�a slight flinch here, a tightening in the eyes there. It�s clear the champion, while internationally loved, is less favored locally. If not for her skill, I have a feeling they�d sideline her even further.

Bipasha, consummate politician that she is, cuts in. �The champion is a gift to all of us, as is Mr. Fang.�

No one contradicts her of course�it�d be impolite, no matter what they might think. I�m still curious about the presence of the kid in the station. It�s not as if he�s a settlement owner. If he was, I�d know, having spent some time memorizing the faces of everyone involved.

�Any idea about the kid?�

�You do realize he�s not much younger than you?� Ali retorts. �I got nothing. Probably wanted to go on a holiday.�

�It sure is pretty up here.� I acknowledge Ali�s point, but I don�t agree. There�s no way his presence up here is innocent.

After the stilted introductions, we switch topics to the recent attacks. Interestingly enough, China�or what we�re calling China anyway, since its borders have changed drastically post-apocalypse�only had to deal with a single attack in the last few days. Still, the recent widespread attacks and the desperate battles after years of relative quiet is a topic of interest for everyone.

It�s only when the conversation lags again that I bring up my reason for coming over.

�I just wanted to check we are settled for the upcoming vote?� I say to Bipasha. I wish I had a better, less blunt way of segueing into this, but� well, I don�t.

Bipasha winces ever so slightly, the movement more of a twitch of the eyes, but I ignore it. Lei visibly smirks, but the various settlement owners are quick to voice their support. I can�t help but feel a little nervous about them. Unlike many others, we don�t have a Contract or any official agreement with the Chinese. Just a guarantee from Bipasha. It�s a tad late to be worrying about it, but things have been hectic. I console myself with the knowledge her deal is similar to Roxley�s.

�Our votes are with Ms. Chowdury,� the Chinese settlement owners reassure me.

Even Bipasha brightens slightly, happy to reassure me she has gotten guarantees from her side of the table. I restrain from asking her to list everyone, mostly because it�d be rude and counterproductive.

Eventually, I take my leave and find a corner near the buffet table. In some ways, I�d prefer to be down there fighting than doing all this. But my new Skills are for more than just show. And so, I open my eyes and let Society�s Web appear.

Most, if not all, the threads are what I expect. In time, with more usage, I�ve learned to discard and filter out the tiny threads which detail the shallowest of connections between individuals. If I didn�t, in a room filled with settlement owners, I wouldn�t be able to see anything at all. Even now, it�s a staggering maze of threads which cluster around the various settlement owners to others of their kind or those below. It�s one reason I haven�t been using it much within this room and only resorted to it now when I have a quiet moment.

So.

It�s as I guessed�Fang Lei is more than a treasured student or someone on a vacation. The threads between him and the other Chinese settlement owners are heavy and almost exclusively one-sided. There�s an even heavier thread from Fang Lei downward, one which implies a more powerful hidden benefactor on Earth. Whoever it is, the hidden power is neither a settlement owner nor present. Someone else who does not like the limelight.

There�s another heavy thread, one which looks similar to Fang Lei�s, which emerges from Bipasha and heads in the same direction. It�s significantly thicker than any thread between Bipasha and the other settlement owners, though the thread connecting Bipasha and Fang Lei is interesting. I spend a little time touching each of the threads, finding heavy threads of obligation, duty, and contracts within, as well as a rather interesting amount of disdain. Mostly from Fang Lei toward everyone else.

I purse my lips in thought then turn away, staring at Roxley. Once again, I purposely ignore the heavy thread that runs between the two of us and instead concentrate of the ones surrounding the Truinnar. Nothing seems untoward there. Most of the threads speak of deep contracts and obligations between the Truinnar and others. There�s a particularly thick thread which shoots off into space which I linger over, �tasting� the emotions and depth, noting the respect, vigilance, pensiveness, and apprehension surrounding the thread.

I let the thread go and move on, scanning individuals, �tasting� their threads and the webs which form between them and others before moving on. Once again, I feel somewhat stifled by the lack of detailed information, but it is what it is.

�Mr. Lee.� Bhale, with his entourage, appears before me.

There�s no trace of the friendliness and openness the Movana showed when we first met. Instead it has been replaced with a layer of coldness and professionalism. By his side, Sishin is much more direct as he glowers at me. We met once more after Prague, this time with Sishin receiving the shorter end of the stick. I�d managed to kick his and his team�s ass�with the help of a local Advanced Combat team�before the Movana pulled out. That Sishin left a half dozen corpses behind was just one of the vagaries of war. Somehow, I don�t think the thought is comforting for the elf.

I quickly do an assessment of the threads leading from them to me and find they are no larger or brighter than before. Other than a layer of hostility in most, there�s little change�besides the one from Sishin, and his is no surprise. It�s not as if we�ve had a lot of direct contact.

�Gentlemen,� I say with an inclination of my head.

�Your men did very well. I must admit, we were surprised at the effectiveness of the defense and their combat prowess,� Bhale says.

�It happens when you try to kick people out of their homes after an apocalypse,� I say softly. �What you�re facing now are the survivors.�

�Yes. Still, you must know we have expanded our holdings,� Bhale says.

I snort. Yes. Mostly by taking our cities and one allied independent city. Which reminds me� �Why not just hit the Truinnar? If you had managed to reduce their votes and increase yours, you�d have narrowed the gap.�

Sishin snorts and I look at the sleeveless Movana. Since Bhale hesitates to answer me, Sishin decides to do so. �And start a Galactic war? While this might be a Dungeon World, an attack on the bond-breakers would be a direct provocation. Even if we didn�t start a war, we�d have to pay significant reparations.�

I grunt, crossing my arms. Great. The Truinnar and Movana are like the US and Russia with us poor humans and any non-allied settlements the countries they�re happy to wage proxy wars in. But it is a good reminder that as much as Roxley might be friendly, the Galactics are neither good nor bad�just nations looking out for their best interests.

�We are here to ask you, once again, to reconsider your stance,� Bhale says. �You ally your Earth with forces you do not comprehend. You meddle in affairs even Legends fear to casually involve themselves in. You are children running alongside the adults during a dance, deluding yourself into thinking you are dancing but are actually stumbling along, making a fool of yourself.�

�Whoa. Way to be subtle there,� Ali says with a snort.

�Subtle has not worked,� Bhale says with a sniff. �You rush matters too much. In a few years, you might achieve what you seek without allying with those you should not.�

�Really?� I say, stepping closer. The others tense up, but I ignore them as I lower my voice. �Because the way I run the math, the longer we wait, the less chance we have. People like you and the Galactics, the corporations and the Fist, are all going to chip away at our settlements. Divvying it up. Seems like the longer we wait, the more chance more of your Master Classers arrive.�

�It is a possibility. But better to lose your chance than commit your world to politics you do not understand. The Pegasus which flies too high will burn its wings off,� Bhale says.

�That�s not�� I shake my head. Actually, maybe it is how the story goes for them. �It doesn�t matter. It�s a little too late for us to change.�

Bhale�s lips thin, but he inclines his head then walks off. Sishin glares at me for a second more before walking off. I find myself letting out a breath, shaking my head slightly, as tension drains. In some ways, the Movana seem to be nice enough people. It�s a pity we�ve been forced onto opposite sides. But�

But like with Roxley, all I�m seeing is a single facet, a single set of individuals. What they are, who they are, means nothing under the aegis of their respective empires policies and desires. In the end, under the wheels of politics, humanity will be ground away unless we can establish ourselves.

Which is the point of today, after all.

Finding a time to speak with Bipasha alone is more difficult than I imagined. It takes nearly the whole night and waiting for her to make her way to the ladies� room. Thankfully, the modified ISS has artificial gravity because while I might admire the astronauts, I�m not inclined to fully experience certain things in zero g.

�Mr. Lee,� Bipasha says to me when I catch her in the corridor on her way there.

�Are we really good?� I say, cutting right to the chase.

The woman smiles, her tight, tailored armored jumpsuit shifting as she steps closer to me. �Do you not trust my assurances?�

Her hand lands on my chest. She�s so close I can see how flawless the chocolate skin on her face is, smell the exotic scent which wreathes her, sense the swell of her body. In the corner of my eyes, I note how my Mental Resistances have kicked in even as my hormones rise slightly, but not untowardly. Just enough to remind me that yes, I do like women too.

�Cut it out,� I say, glaring at her. �This isn�t the time for this.�

�Oh, Mr. Lee, I�m sure it�s not. But it�s what makes it so fun.� Humor dances in her eyes as she steps back, the arch in her back relaxing slightly. �In any case, I understand even my charms might be insufficient to take you away from your most recent conquest�s side.�

�Roxley has nothing to do with this,� I say and point at her. �For one thing, we don�t have that kind of relationship. And for another, I know you�re not really interested.�

�Really?� Bipasha says with a sniff. �Thank you for telling me my mind, Mr. Lee.� There�s a slight pause before Bipasha shrugs. �And perhaps I seek to enjoy what I can, when I can. After tomorrow, many things will change.�

�So we�re good?� I repeat stubbornly, attempting to drag the conversation back.

�We are good,� the Weaver says with a sigh. �All of my contacts have signed and affirmed their Contracts. If there are any concerns, they will not come from my people.�

�Great.� For a moment, I stare at the woman, sensing something in her. I try to figure out what it is my intuition is telling me, but it eludes me.

�If you are done, I was going somewhere?� Bipasha says waspishly.

I grunt and wave her on, discarding the thought. It doesn�t matter. I trust her to be true to her word. After all, we were voting her in.

Chapter 21

Trouble comes eleven hours away from the vote. I�m resting in my room, drained from the constant politicking, socializing, and hand-holding. Rather than snap at another settlement owner, I retire to my room. Having paced, fretted, and attempted to read, I finally gave up and collapsed on my bed to journey to the blessed lands of sleep.

�Wake, Redeemer. The flags of betrayal have flown!�

I jerk awake, sword appearing in my hand as I roll out of bed and scan for threats. The quickly cut-off chuckle from a familiar voice is sufficient for me to relax, though I find myself glaring at the tired-looking First Nation�s lady. She�s seated on the only chair, head propped on her hands with a smile on her lips.

�Ingrid,� I say frostily. I briefly wonder how she could be here and then realize the answer is real simple�

we never did take her off the entourage list for Lana.

�No joking. Wake up, John. We�ve got problems.�

My eyes widen as I stand, dismissing my sword. I almost call it back when the door slides open, but I stop as Lana, Mikito, and Roxley tramp in.

�I really would like to know what is going on. I left Katherine to hold down the fort, but all of us disappearing is not a good idea,� Lana says.

�Betrayal!� Ingrid says, adding a little timbre to her voice. Seeing no reaction, she pouts before continuing. �So, good news. I�ve managed to kill the assassin. Bad news, when I went checking the boards for more work, I found a lot. Not much work which actually pays what I�m worth, but you know, it�s kind of the way it�s always been, right? You struggle and work hard, but does the rockman ever give you credit? No. Never. It�s always, what have you killed today?�

I stare at Ingrid for a second then materialize a carafe of coffee. When I get a few pointed looks, I hand out cups of it, including one to a very grateful assassin.

When she�s done sipping it, she gets back on topic. �So I started looking into the jobs. Some of those jobs, they�d been around before, right? And then there are the low-end bids on everyone and their dog. Quite literally. I mean, who hates dogs that much? But there was this whole new set which are serious and have deadlines of, like, ten hours from now. Their targets are all clustered, but they aren�t exactly high-profile fellows. Definitely not worth what is being offered,� Ingrid says. �I did some digging, and well, looks like the Fist might not be playing straight. Cost a pretty penny, but the contract on you isn�t the only one they took out.�

I blink, staring at Ingrid, putting the pieces together. One of the facets of the Shop is the need to know the right questions to ask. But once you do, the answers you can get are astounding�if you�re willing to pay. Obviously, the information Ingrid collated was sufficient to make her risk asking and paying for the answer.

�Why?� Mikito says with a frown, small hands tightening into fists.

�Politics,� Roxley says, a foot tapping rapidly on the ground for a brief moment. It�s a surprising amount of loss of control for the normally cool Truinnar. Then again, he�s rarely so wrong. �The Fist consider the Dungeon Worlds theirs. Their fears of what you intend to do when you gain a seat�or perhaps of what the other Dungeon Worlds might do with your example�must have overridden their Contract with you.

�It�s possible your attack and their betrayal, might have originated from outside Earth as well.�

�I thought they�d just stab us in the front�� I muttered. But really, just because they were fight maniacs didn�t mean they couldn�t scheme like everyone else.

�What do we do now? We can�t just let them attack our people,� Lana says, frowning. �And why would the Fist risk multiple assassinations? There�s no guarantee those settlements will fall the way they want. If they succeed.�

�Distraction and disruption,� Roxley answers promptly. �I would wager they have forces ready to launch an actual attack to take advantage of any attempted assassination.�

I nod slowly. I can see how having someone try to kill you could be distracting. Depending on the targets chosen, it could make a huge difference. With all the settlement owners�or at least their proxies�up here, taking out the second-in-command or whoever is in charge of the defenses could make a huge difference. Especially since most settlement owners are the highest Level residents in any city. I have to admit, it�s a decent plan, especially if they intend to betray us. But�

�Why now? Why not wait till the actual vote?�

�Numbers,� Ali says. �That was probably their initial plan, but our defense was likely better than what they expected. Even if they walk away, so long as Ares doesn�t, we�re good.�

�Ares is unlikely to break a System contract. Breach of contract for a corporation is a much more significant matter,� Roxley adds. �The impact on their rating and reputation would have a much wider impact on their business. No one wants to buy from a weapons corporation which refuses to fulfill their contracts. It is why I believe their change of mind is more recent.�

There are nods all around while everyone looks somewhat more unsettled. What was a comfortable margin in case of defection and betrayal has become significantly smaller and tighter. In fact, it�s low enough that losing even a couple more settlements would be dangerous.

�Mikito, we need you on Earth. You and the champions,� Lana says, the redhead�s mind obviously working quickly. �Ingrid, can you liaise with Mikito and the settlement owners who might be affected?�

�About that�� Ingrid hesitates.

�What?�

�I believe Ms. Starling is concerned about letting the source of information be known. I assume the access to such information is often restricted and tracked,� Roxley says.

Ingrid swiftly acknowledges Roxley�s conjecture then sits in pensive silence, leaving Lana floundering as she rethinks her plans.

�Right, well, the diplomatic group up here will focus on double-checking all our votes again. Hopefully there aren�t any additional surprises, but we need to be sure.� Lana turns to me. �John��

�Yes?� I say.

�I�ll do it.� Ingrid looks at Lana and nods firmly, lips pressed tight. �If we can, I�d like us to hide where the information came from, but worst-case scenario, I lose access. But I�ll make sure everyone gets word.�

Lana flashes Ingrid a smile filled with gratitude and relief. In it, I can see hints of shared recollection of all the struggles we�ve faced together. Or perhaps it�s just me.

I watch the pair of them for a second before I speak up. �What am I going to do? Should I join Mikito?�

�Ali, how many Master Classes are in play?� Lana says.

�Right now? I got nothing. They�ve got a bunch, but they�re all sitting in their settlements. Probably deterrence to stop us from sending our own forces in,� Ali replies.

�Until they commit those forces, sending you down would be foolish,� Lana says. �Once you�re in play, yanking you out will be difficult. It�s unlikely you would be able to finish any fight quickly.�

I grimace but nod. True enough. Sometimes, not committing me to a fight is as good a deterrence as sending me down. With the other champions in play, it�s not as if we don�t have our own powerhouses. But none of them have the ease of mobility that I do. At the end of the day, while I�m a single Master Class and can�t be everywhere on the battlefield, the threat of adding a second Master Class to a fight can be an extremely powerful deterrent. �So what do I do?�

Lana and Roxley share a look before Lana asks the Truinnar, �Hardball?�

�Not yet. Let�s test their resolve first,� Roxley states.

�If it�s weak?�

�Then we�ll use John,� Roxley says, to which Lana offers a nod.

�Hey! I�m right here,� I say with my arms crossed.

�We know. We�ll send you a list of those you should speak to,� Lana says. �If we can reinforce the impression��

�Viable. But a practical example might be required.�

�I�m not going to like this, am I?� I say.

The smiles the pair give me offer little hope.

Hours crawl by as I scramble to complete all the conversations I�m allocated. Between the high Constitutions among the populace up here which reduces or eliminates the need for sleep, the settlement owners from all over the globe, and the myriad rest habits of the Galactics, there�s always someone to talk to. Or threaten. Or cajole. Hours of walking, talking, sipping, and drinking. Of playing the social butterfly.

In time, everyone realizes something is going on, though what exactly might not be known. When Lana finally comes up to me during a break, I find myself grateful.

�Any news?� I mutter softly.

�Three attempts. So far, we lost one settlement and are in the midst of fighting for two more. The Movana have continued their push too and even increased their attacks, which have kept the champions busy,� Lana says. �We�re going to need you to speak with the Fist.�

�About this?� I say with a frown.

�Five minutes. In the observatory,� Lana says.

�Exactly what do you want me to do?�

�Just be yourself. Convince them, if you can, to keep their word.�

I can�t help frowning at her words, but Lana gives me a mysterious smile before she walks off.

When I make my way to the observatory, I�m somewhat surprised to note the crowd. Then again, perhaps I shouldn�t be�with so few hours left till the vote, most people would be up. Drawing a deep breath, I let it out slowly to calm my nerves before I make my way to the Fist. Interestingly enough, or perhaps tellingly, it�s only Asgauver and Emven up here today.

�Asgauver. Emven,� I say, trying to remember to stay polite. At this point, the attacks have made it pretty clear they�ve betrayed us, but we�re in polite company. For now, being polite will provide a better image than acting like a screaming, ranting hillbilly.

�Duelist,� Asgauver says, feet spreading slightly. �Are you here to confirm our support?�

�No. It�d be a waste of air,� I say, the placid, almost insultingly blas� reaction from the pair immediately making me break from Lana�s instructions. �I was surprised you chose to outright break your word and Contract rather than turn us down directly. Not the bold and honorable image of the Fist I had been led to believe.�

�What do you know of the Fist, Duelist?� A spark of anger rises in Asgauver�s voice at my insult. �You might have lucked into a few Perks and fought a few wars, but we at the Fist are true warriors. And there are no rules in war but the most important�a blade must always be sharpened. You and your dreams for Earth would block our people from testing ourselves on your planet, in some misguided attempt to better everyone.�

�And you think we shouldn�t?� I say softly, my eyes narrowing.

�You cannot Level those who refuse to fight. You need only look at the average Levels to realize the Artisans� way of growth via production is a lie,� Asgauver says. �The Artisans bleat about how important they are, but in the end, they rely on us, hide behind us. Without the Fist, without our trips to the Forbidden Zone, without us clearing dungeons for them, their precious cities would be overrun. The Fist is what holds the Galactic Council together!�

�And so to hell with us on Earth and our hopes of not being dragged into your cycle of war and death,� I say. �Keep the doors open, give you guys everything you want, and vote to send even more worlds to hell.�

�Yes,� Asgauver says. �Because if not, we all die.�

�Ah, of course,� I say. �Even if you could have designated another world, like Mars or Neptune, as the new Dungeon World. It�s too damn hard, isn�t it, to build up a non-populated world? So rather than do that, you�ll sacrifice billions for some imagined future. The tyranny of the future justifies the sacrifice of the present in your eyes. Well, pardon me if I�m not going to lie down and take it.�

Asgauver snorts, shaking his head. �I knew you were useless. You Paladins, you champions and Guardians, you all think you�re better than us. Doesn�t matter what species. You refuse to accept your place in our System.�

�Our System?� I scoff, scorn filling my voice. �This System forces us into a world where the few grow at the expense of the many. Master Classers lording it over Advanced Classers who lord it over Basics who do the same to Artisans. Settlement owners who own and gain experience and Credits and power over those under them, dictating taxes and lives without recourse.

�The System is broken from the beginning, meant to provide only for those on the top. You think because you�ve struggled to the top, it justifies it all? You think, because a few can progress and climb to the peak it�s sufficient proof the System works? Garbage. On the way, you�ve crushed and killed, taken and discarded hundreds, thousands of others. We�re all victims of this damn System. But you�d rather bend to it than make it bend to you.�

My hands clench as I stare at the giant Kudaya, the hippo�s nostrils flaring at my challenge.

�You speak as if this is new. As if what the System offers is somehow wrong. But it is what it is.�

For a moment, I falter as my own words, my own thoughts reflect back at me. But there�s a lie in those words too.

�What is, is. There is no justice, no mercy inherent in this world. Entropy takes. Without recourse or consultation, it devours our hopes and ignores our despair. All true, all correct,� I say then look at the Kudaya. �But what is, is not what may be. It lies with us to build the world that we desire, to shore up the sand castles of our beliefs against the tide of necessity.

�So yeah, I�ll stand right here and tell you and your Fist to get back on board and keep your word. Because if not, if we lose this vote, the first damn thing I�m going to do is open a Portal and take all your settlements.�

�Threats are useless without the force to back it up. And I would crush you,� Asgauver snarls and leans forward, his giant snout inches from my face as he speaks.

�Pretty sure the score�s 1-0, ugly.�

Asgauver snarls and shoves, a giant meaty arm hammering my body. I�m forced to step back, unable to soak up the full force, a low throb in my chest as my ribs creak. Before I can even draw a breath, Phil is there, between us.

�Enough,� Phil Katz says, his voice filling the room. �You know the rules. There is no fighting here!�

�Of course you would side with your human,� Asgauver says with a snort.

Phil�s eyes narrow as he looks over the Kudaya, then he speaks, his voice still calm. �I am siding with no one. You were informed of the rules when you arrived, as was Mr. Lee.�

I consider pointing out it was Asgauver who hit me, but decide against it. Something about the way Phil holds himself tells me he would be less than happy with my meddling.

�I agreed to allow the station to be a center point for such events under guarantees from all parties that such altercations would not become violent. If that has changed, then your presence on this station is unwanted,� Phil says.

�Please, Commander Katz. It is a small argument. We will all hold to the agreement.� Katherine slides in with a smile, gesturing to the others. �No one else has taken any action, and even Mr. Heindra has stopped his actions.�

�I�ll allow it. As Mr. Lee was provoking the incident to begin with,� Phil says then raises a single finger. �But no more. You leave your fights down there.�

I grunt and my agreement is echoed by everyone else. At Phil�s insistent wave, I move aside to find Roxley and Lana standing side by side, speaking softly.

�Was that what you were looking for?� I growl.

�Almost exactly,� Roxley says with a smile. �It would have worked better if you were able to fight, but your surprising eloquence will do. I take it you�ve been considering the matter?�

�Had four years to think about it,� I say.

�Interesting. We�ll have to speak about that, but for now, we need to capitalize on your little display.� Lana steps aside swiftly, disappearing into the crowd. Leaving me and Roxley alone.

For a time, we stand in awkward silence before I finally muster enough courage to deal with this. �Look, Roxley. About us. It wasn�t a mistake, but it wasn�t smart. There�s�� I hesitate before pushing on. �Something there. It might be more, but after this� if this works��

�You intend to leave. And my duties require me to stay.� His lips twist slightly as he sighs. �Oh, John. Did you ever, perhaps, look into Truinnar relationship norms?�

�No��

�Oooh� I do think tall, dark, and elfy is talking about paired bonds.�

�Then be assured that I understand the context. For us, there is a distinct different between those who are chosen from duty and those from desire. Neither holds greater value, but they do differ significantly in what is expected of one another.�

�Desire?� I cough.

Roxley snorts. �You really are adorable at times. But we can speak of this later. Dinner, after the vote?�

�Uh�� I pause, realizing numerous eyes are fixed on us. I glower at the others before deciding to ignore them all. As difficult as I find our relationship, with all its political, social, and personal implications, it�s none of their business. �If I don�t have to Portal down and take a few cities, sure.�

Roxley laughs lightly and walks off to tackle another figure while I find myself standing alone for a few seconds. I turn when I feel a glare behind my back and find myself smiling at Asgauver as the werehippo glares at me.

Three hours to the vote.

Rob finds me soon after, a slight smile on his face. The ex-Secretary of State looks relaxed, in his element out here. As much as he might act as if he�s not a seasoned politician, the man knows how to maneuver among the throng with ease. It�s something I�ve had to learn, mostly by watching people who are better than me, but it�ll never be something I�m comfortable with. I sometimes wonder if I�m holding myself back and that�s why I�m not improving as much�or as fast�as I should.

�Evening,� I greet the man.

�Is it, really?� Rob says, looking out into the pitch blackness.

�Pretty sure it is somewhere,� I say.

Rob chuckles and tilts his head toward the robot server that comes over, carrying a pair of glasses. He picks them up and hands one to me. �Well then, if that�s the case. Cheers!�

I snort but down the drink. It�s something a little bitter, a little strong that burns going down the throat and burns even hotter when it hits my stomach. My eyes widen slightly even as I�m notified that I�ve resisted a poisoning effect. Bah! Once again, my innate resistances make a mess of things including blocking alcohol�s effects on me.

�Nice. I�ll have to keep this in mind,� I say while looking around for Ali.

I spot the damn Spirit a short distance away with a glass in hand, regaling a group of Galactics with a story. I decide not to lip-read or listen in. It�s rather embarrassing listening to the damn Spirit talk about our adventures, especially since he seems to feel that our �regular� adventures are nowhere near exciting enough and thus carefully shapes the truth.

�So we never talked afterward. But are you okay with this?� I say, gesturing toward Bipasha.

�Couldn�t really ask for more. We�re not what we were,� Rob says. �Vice-chair is more than sufficient. Surprised the Chinese let it go actually.�

�As am I,� I say. �But Bipasha says they�d rather have their tenterhooks directly in her.�

Rob can only shrug before he points at where Asgauver stands. �Heard what you said. I have to admit, I was impressed. Reminded me a little of a little piece of paper dear to my heart. All men being equal and all.�

I nod, deciding not to comment. The ideals his country was built upon, which were consciously chosen, are hard to argue against. Yet those ideals, those beliefs�like so many other things�are easy to betray in application.

�We do what we can,� I say.

Rob flashes me a half smile before offering me a salute with his glass as he wanders off. Once again, I think it�s a pity the man doesn�t have the votes to win this. But needs must.

Chapter 22

For all the drama leading up to it, for all the nail-biting tension and the last-minute discussions in political realities, the vote itself is entirely banal. When the time comes, even those who have chosen not to come up to the station may cast their vote from the safety of their cities. Our presence on the station is a matter of convenience and preference, a desire to meet and mingle, rather than need. Even the proxies here are mostly proxies for networking, not voting.

During the vote, Lana�s eyes defocus as she reads through the notification, then they slightly tighten as she makes her decision. It happens quickly. By the time I look at Roxley and the Truinnar, most of them are done too. It�s mostly the humans who take their time, reading through the notification in detail. Perhaps it�s our concerns about things like predatory contracts and terms and conditions or just a general distrust of the System. In either case, results show up on the simple bar charts and globe Phil has taken the time to set up.

�Looks like the Fist really did betray us,� I say softly. Damn them. They�d managed to take a couple more close-by settlements in the interim.

�They�re not pulling back either, boy-o. I�ll keep an ear out, but I don�t see them backing down. You might have to miss your dinner.�

I�m amused to see that Asgauver, for a brief moment, actually has the highest number of votes�before the votes for Bipasha arrive. Immediately, her bar eclipses Asgauver�s and even the Movana�s.

�Do we have enough?� I ask, turning to regard the globe as lights shift and turn on. �And any variations?�

�Nothing yet,� Lana says as she tilts her head. I�m not surprised to see her doing so, probably listening to her AI and getting an update.

Another jump as a slew of others finish their voting and Bipasha�s numbers push past fifty percent.

�Come on��

I shift from foot to foot as the bars creep upward. I�m just grateful the vote is done by the System. Even then, seconds seem like hours as I wait. Around us, whispered conversations of Galactics and humans dominate, while the low hiss of the ventilation system underlines every word. In one corner, Bipasha stands, her lips slightly parted, anticipation radiating from every inch of her body. Beside her, the Chinese settlement owners wait, a sardonic, imperious look on Fang Lei�s face. I blink and realize the deeper shadows in one corner of the room contains a friendly assassin.

I draw a deep breath, and by the time I exhale, the numbers update.

�That�s it?� Katherine says beside me.

I understand her feelings. Where�s the swell of music from the orchestra, the drum roll? The crash of thunder or the cheers? Instead, there�s just a floating bar chart and a single notification.

Congratulations to Earth (Planet XVI.1928813) for voting Bipasha Chowdury as your representative to the Galactic Council.

Your representative (or a designated representative) has 94 Standard Days to arrive and take her seat.

Additional details and benefits will be provided when you have successfully completed this mandatory quest.

�That�s it,� I say. Eighty point one percent. Thousand hells the vote had been close.

I look around, spotting the few who voted against Bipasha. The Movana look unhappy and are moving toward Phil as a group with haste, shoulders hunched and eyes gliding over the groups as they looked to leave. The Fist are standing in their own corner, focused on perusing notifications of their own. Probably from the on-going fight below. A part of me wants to head down there immediately. Now that things have played out, Ali is already feeding me notifications about the state of affairs on Earth. How the Movana have pulled back their forces while requesting a cease-fire and how the Fist are still fighting. Since I�m not the only Master Class in play, I should be able to go down, right?

�Just wait a little bit,� Ali says, obviously reading my mind. �I�m pretty sure Bipasha would be annoyed if you left during her victory lap.�

I find myself grunting in acknowledgement. The Bangladeshi woman is radiant, all smiles and glowing with the light of victory as other settlement owners gather to offer their congratulations and suck up a little. I find it amusing�until Rob lets loose an exclamation of surprise and stomps over.

�What the hell is this?� Rob is waving one balled fist as he stalks nearer to the crowd.

Fang Lei moves to block him off, his smirk growing.

�Boy-o��

Your Planetary Governor: Bipasha Chowdury

Your Planetary Deputy Governor: Fang Lei

Your Planetary Vice-Deputy Governor: Rob Markey

�

�That�s not�� I exhale, understanding why Rob is angry.

It�s not what we agreed on. Not what she told us she had agreed on. And I get why Fang Lei has been smirking, so confident. The threads make sense now, the choices they made. In the corner of my eye, new notifications appear as Bipasha�s reputation takes a hit. Contracts set up between us flicker warning signs as her reputation plunges.

�Why?� Rob snarls over Fang Lei�s shoulder.

�Because you people are unworthy dogs,� Fang Lei says.

My eyes narrow at something in his voice� I look toward Bipasha, but I�m too slow. Phil, sensing something is wrong, is turning too, but he�s too slow as well.

The first attack comes from a hand that lands ever so lightly on her arm. It bypasses her inactive shield because Bipasha doesn�t expect the attack. The twist and rip warps her skin and the bone in her arm before it detaches, removing her rings of protection. Behind her, the other Chinese settlement owners attack.

Daggers appear in hands and dart toward Bipasha�s body, wreathed in flame and lightning, the blue glow of Mana, and the twisting winds of compressed air. They impact against her secondary defenses, the other enchantments they didn�t manage to strip out, the weaves of her jumpsuit as they harden. It�s not enough. Her defenses fall one after the other even as spells and Skills trigger. Blades plunge into her lithe body, which is attempting to escape, tearing holes in her clothing and flesh. From the daggers, energy flows, green darkness spreading from her wounds.

I see her choke as another attack, this one from a newly generated metal gauntlet, smashes into her face, crushing her cheek and unleashing pure energy into her skull. Even as these attacks pile on, the crowd reacts. Bodyguards moving to protect her are outnumbered and blocked by other members of the Chinese congregation, Bipasha�s men falling under the surprise attacks. Phil takes a more direct route, tapping into his control of the station and banishing settlement owners. But it takes time to locate and target individuals, and each moment sees another attack. The Soul Shield I throw up and my Two are One Skills do little to slow the damage, even as a quantum lock hinders Phil�s ability to remove the assailants.

The Indian woman falls, poison, chaos magic, weaponized nanites, and more spreading through her body. By the time I Blink Step to her, a Major Healing spell already forming, it�s too late. The pain from the shared Skill is gone, Two are One deactivating as its target disappears. Healing magic cast on her body flashes and disappears as it finds nothing to grasp. Her brain is fried, her nerves torn apart, her body poisoned.

At first silence dominates the room�no screams�then there�s more than a little cursing. And laughter from the Fist. Death comes in a blink and it staggers us survivors. The Chinese bodyguards fall backward, but Bipasha�s don�t. The lock disappears. With a heavy sigh, Phil banishes the remainder of the guards. When he reaches Fang Lei and his pair of bodyguards, he frowns.

�It�s done,� Fang Lei says, raising his voice to project. There�s a timbre to it, a commanding presence that actually makes people listen. �I�m sorry you had to see that, but we didn�t want her to change her mind.�

�You bastard�� Rob snarls, his fist clenching.

�Now, now. You�ve got what you wanted. Deputy Governor,� Fang Lei says with that irritating smirk.

�You double-dealing scumbag,� Rob says. �If you think��

I step up and clap my hand on Rob�s shoulder. The American halts, meeting my eyes and seeing the warning in them. He growls again, but I ignore it as I turn to Fang Lei.

�What exactly do you think you�re doing?� I say softly. �In five years, you are up for re-election. And you just lost all of the Indian continent�s votes at the very least.�

�Five years is a very long time,� Fang Lei says. �Much can change in that time. Much can be changed. Those who stand against us will learn better.�

My eyes widen at the implications. At what he is suggesting he is willing to do. For the first time, a pit of cold fear opens up in my stomach as I realize who I�ve inadvertently gotten into bed with. I step forward, my hands clenching, but a look from Phil makes me stop, the warning clear. As much as I might dislike Fang Lei, Phil has already warned me once. I doubt he�ll warn me again. Before I can say anything else, a blinding light flashes out from around Fang Lei. My eyes slam shut too late as our sight is overloaded on purpose.

�You dare!� Fang Lei�s voice rises in a shout. Dull clinks and clanks resound, the noise all too familiar, as is the low hiss of smoke being released from an obfuscation grenade. �Commander, do your job!�

�I can�t see,� Phil growls, his voice fading slightly as I sense him backing off. Mana flows erupt from around his body as he piles on defensive measures.

All around me, people are reacting to being blinded. My Mana Sense is flaring like crazy as people trigger even more Shielding Skills to protect themselves from a potential attack. But from what I can hear, what I sense, the attacks are all concentrated on one location. My sight comes back relatively fast, but the smoke that permeates the room obscures most everything.

Most. I see Phil pushed back by Emven, who has launched himself at the Commander. I try to Blink Step to Phil�s aid and feel my body lurch forward only a few feet as a Skill degrades mine. I jerk in surprise, turning in time to see a fist come flying toward my face. The fist is as large as my body, and as it impacts, I�m thrown backward. I groan, pushing myself up as my head swims slightly.

You are Dazed!

6 Seconds Remaining

�Why�?� I ask, not understanding why the Fist would act now. This doesn�t have anything to do with them�

�For many reasons,� Asgauver says as he throws a hook that I barely weave under. Another punch and another as I duck, the hippo refusing to stop talking as he does so. �The new Governor seems to be quite open to negotiation. But mostly because you threatened us.�

Spells and Skills flare as I call forth my sword and the other blades. A new notification tells me that Asgauver has learned his lesson, locking me in place with a Skill. Frustration pushes at the edges of my self-control when I see that notice. I�m still not sure who is fighting Fang Lei, how Phil is doing, or where the rest of my team is. I don�t have time for this, but I�m not exactly given a choice.

Blade against fist. But I�m eating more punches this time, unable to move as smoothly as I�d like, as the hippo hems me in on the observatory. I snarl, watching as the integrity of my Soul Shield and the Shield from the ring drops, smashed away by the overpowered bruiser. His attacks are simplistic, focused on adding to the damage quotient. But damn is it effective.

Another punch, this one shattering my Shields and throwing me into a pile of screaming Galactics. Their soft bodies soak up my painful landing, though I get shocked by a few reflexive Skill uses. I roll aside before the giant table that Asgauver throws hits, using the smoke, dust, and confusion to buy myself a few precious seconds.

I can�t win this. Not like this. But the good news is, I don�t need to.

�Point into Penetration. Another into Vanguard,� I snarl.

Then, remembering where I am, I trigger the Eye of the Storm. I have no idea where my friends are or who they�re fighting�if they�re fighting�but if they are, I�d best make their lives easier. At the same time, I let my Aura loose, going all in as my body shudders slightly from the Class Skill changes taking effect.

�There you are!� Asgauver says as he stalks forward. His hands glow again, built up charge filling those meaty bulldozers.

�Yes. Here I am.�

Idiot takes the time to talk and let me speak, so I take the time to cast Haste then trigger Vanguard. Everything slows down even further as the spell and Skill boosts my attributes and speed. Then I move.

I�m beside Asgauver before he realizes it, my sword cutting upward into the gap between his arm and chest, right into his armpit. The four other swords follow, spongey flesh that is inordinately hardened by Skills tearing apart under the assault. But I�m moving, not stopping as I pile cuts and slashes across his body. The hippo howls, slamming his hands together and sending a shockwave that pushes me, the smoke, and everyone else back.

I slide backward, panting, as I see the entire room has erupted into battle. Katherine is cowering with other non-combatants in one corner, a series of portable shields safeguarding them. I spot Peter�the Planetary Diplomat�with them, standing at the forefront, ready to trigger his ultimate skill if necessary. Diplomatic Immunity will give him, and hopefully everyone behind him, temporary immunity from all damage. Roxley, Vir, and the rest of the Truinnar are caught in a skirmish with the Movana and their allies, though it seems to be a stalling action rather than a predatory one. Phil, in the small gap provided to him, has actually gained the upper hand on Emven and is literally beating him into the floor with a pipe wrench. And surprisingly, Ali is dealing with both of Fang Lei�s bodyguards while Ingrid stands over Fang Lei�s prone form, her dagger slowly inching its way toward his brain.

�Ingrid�?� I say in surprise.

The First Nation�s woman is bleeding, one side of her body fileted, the bone and a few organs visible. Her foot is half-removed and she�s squinting through a haze of blood, but there�s grim determination on Ingrid�s face. Even as Fang Lei uses his hand, straightened and sharpened with Mana, to slice and stab into her body to throw her off, she attacks.

I raise a hand, ready to trigger Two are One even as I drop out of Haste, but I�m interrupted. Asgauver gets in the way with his bulk, throwing a roundhouse kick so strong it could bring down a building. I do the lambada, dropping beneath the kick and popping back up to stab my sword into the hippo�s body. I snarl, shoving forward as I conjure my other blades, twisting and cutting to get around my opponent and cast my Skill at Ingrid. But even though I�m boosted with Vanguard, the damn hippo is too big and wide and the few glimpses I get of her are insufficient, especially as the smoke rolls back in.

�Can�t hold on much longer, boy-o.�

�Damn it.� I snarl and give up, focusing on finishing this fight.

The werehippo�s massive health pool and passive regeneration is a problem, as is his ability to lock down my Portaling abilities. A punch comes in and I hop upward, landing on a blade that still sticks out of the Kudaya�s body. I cut with one sword into his shoulder to give me even more of a lift before I thrust the sword in my hand. The attack plunges into his eye, blinding Asgauver. As he staggers back, Asgauver unleashes another scream, the sonic attack throwing me into the ceiling.

The ceiling crumples under my body, steel and more exotic metals warping. Phil is distracted for a second, taking a blow from Emven.

As he struggles to his feet, another voice echoes, �We got the station, Commander. Kick his ass!�

Reinforcements pour in, the remainder of the ISS�s crew appearing. Like Phil, they�ve got the Levels and Skills to make a difference, and the moment they arrive, my Skill boosts their attributes. A purple light bathes Asgauver, and I note his Mana bar shrinking visibly under its effects. As the air scrubbers kick into overdrive with a whine, clearing the smoke, the werehippo focuses in on me.

�You will not win!� Asgauver howls.

I release myself from the crumpled metal and get my feet bunched up behind me. I propel myself past the Kudaya, aiming for where I last saw Ingrid. A part of me is swearing, wishing I had her on my party info. But it never occurred to me, not during what should have been a peaceful, even joyous occasion.

�Ingrid!� I slam into the floor next to their prone bodies.

Fang Lei has a dagger stuck in his eye, the victim of a fatal dose of metal poisoning. And real poison too, if I know anything about Ingrid. But it�s the First Nation�s woman I�m concerned about.

I push against her still form. �No!�

I hear movement behind me and my body reacts, reaching backward and conjuring my sword to block the blow. It smashes into my angled sword and keeps coming, the floor beneath my feet buckling as my hand collapses. But even as the blow lands on my body, I hold myself up and away from the charred, flayed, and still corpse.

�You idiot. You should have run�� I swear at the corpse, tears filling my eyes.

Another blow, the physical pain a dull reminder that a fight is going on around me. But it�s distant, a minor ache compared to the loss of another friend. A stupid, senseless loss. She could have survived if she had run. She could have tried again. I don�t even know why she acted, what prompted her to kill Fang Lei. We could have�

Another blow, this one so hard it cracks a few ribs. My head throbs, muscles groan, and I touch her body, dumping it into my Altered Space. As another attack comes, I twist and dodge, rising to my feet. My hand conjures a plunger of Mana Potion that goes into a torn, exposed section of armor.

�Face me, you coward. I�ll show you why the Fist are not to be angered!� Asgauver swings again, his hand burning with power.

�Ali, have everyone leave.�

Then I let it loose, the anger that sits in my soul. The pain I keep hidden. He took my friend away. If he hadn�t blocked me, I could have saved her. He cost me a friend. So I�m going to take his life. And his friend�s life. And his city.

The world turns red as Asgauver learns what it means to deal with the fury of a Paladin.

Frenzy. It�s an old Skill, one I rarely use because while it reduces the pain I feel and the amount of damage I can deal, along with increasing my Stamina regeneration, my Mana regeneration drops. With the huge drain on Mana most of my Skills have, Frenzy isn�t as suited for me as it would be for like someone like Asgauver. But there�s a much more important reason to keep it off�the damn Skill doesn�t let me retreat or back off until all my enemies are slain.

Interestingly enough, the first time I activate Frenzy after my Master Class upgrade, I realize I�m actually able to think. Previous usages of the Skill reduced my conscious decision-making ability significantly. Luckily, for one reason or another, I have a little skill at fighting and so much of my unconscious decision-making is correct. But against a Master like Asgauver, reacting rather than thinking might be deadly.

All of these thoughts flash through my rage-filled mind in the time it takes to slip his punch. I�m inside his guard, my sword cutting sideways and moving. Because now, I�m no longer fighting him alone. A half dozen others are here, individuals who are part of the Fist or chose to act when they did. The Chinese bodyguards are my first target, a Blade Strike catching one high while I dash toward the next.

Vanguard of the Apocalypse thrums through my body even as my Aura of Chivalry works on them all. I can feel the attention that is drawn to me, the anger and focus targeted at me, and I find myself grinning. Grinning wide.

A cut, a punch, then I grab and toss the other Chinese guard at Asgauver. The giant hippo bats the man away, his body flying into the windows and causing a spider-web of cracks. The hiss and hum of over-worked ventilators surround us, as does the acrid smell of urine and spilt blood. I open fire at other fighters with a newly conjured beam pistol, using the attack to disrupt formations rather than for pure damage. A shot takes Emven in the back of the head, giving Phil the opening he needs to put his fist through his opponent�s chest.

Ali is cajoling, pulling, and at times throwing people out of the room. Lana is guiding out Katherine and the other non-Combatants, Shadow and Roland somehow having made their way up here. I�m curious how that happened, but only in an abstract, clinical way. I�m too busy with kiting Asgauver and annoying everyone else, jumping, sprinting, and sliding across the giant room, blades cutting and pistol firing.

Blood flows and Mana drops, my body feeling the strain of my actions even as I push as hard as I can to stay ahead of Asgauver. I don�t always succeed, the hippo being larger as well as fast and smart enough to know when to use his ranged attacks. And as I attract more and more attention, the attacks pile on. I bleed health points and suffer actual damage. But the cracked ribs, the dislocated shoulder, the torn hamstring are nothing compared to the anger in my soul and the pain in my heart.

�We�re out! Phil is closing down the observatory. You�ve got until he�s done with Emven out here.�

So. Emven�s still alive. Surprising. But that�s more than enough time.

I skid to a stop and turn, holding both swords I conjure in front of me. Muscles creak and my hands tremble as I cross the weapons to soak up the most recent series of attacks, my legs buckling and tearing up the floor beneath me. A pause, a fraction of a second to clear my mind. Time enough to conjure a Skill.

Light explodes from nowhere, filling the room via the windows before the Beacon tears through the ceiling. Metal vaporizes and bathes all of us in the raging inferno of the Beacon�s attack. The Advanced Classers in the room die, pain ripping through their bodies as the Mana-based attack ignores their defenses. Air rushes out, picking up and throwing debris into the endless void, while the thumps of blast doors through the soles of my feet inform me the station is taking steps to protect itself.

Asgauver shoulders his way through the pain, grabbing me and lifting me to slam my body into the floor. A part of me is thankful for his actions, for I call another Beacon down on us. I�m sheltered from the direct effects of my own attack by the hippo�s leaning body, close enough to see his eyes widen as skin flays and burns away, exposing bone.

When the Beacon dies off, Asgauver has one hand held over me, the other pinning me. He�s bleeding, skin burned away, flesh cut and muscles chopped apart from our repeated clashes. The Kudaya is in pain, conscious through a sheer exertion of will. But I�m not much better. I drop all my other Mana-intensive Skills, staring at the bar of my Mana pool. Not enough. But that�s okay.

�Any last words to pass on to your friends when I bring your corpse out?� Asgauver taunts, slamming me back into the floor when I twitch.

I cough, feeling something snap in my back. �Yeah. Army of One,� I whisper and activate the Skill, watching my health plummet as the Skill takes from my body what it cannot from Mana. Another �gift� from my time away, an understanding of how the world, the System works.

Blades appear around my prone body even as I conjure the original in my hand and stab upward. Blades, glowing with ethereal power, launch into Asgauver�s body with such force he is ripped from my body. I stagger upward, staring as the giant Master Class is pushed outside of the range of the artificial gravity that holds us to the station.

My head throbs with a pain that would probably cripple me if I wasn�t in my Frenzy state. I stare at the helpless Asgauver floating in space, his blood frosting over as the giant hippo twitches. Even the Master Class�s monstrous health pool and his numerous damage-soaking Skills aren�t enough.

�Should have taken their advice,� I whisper then gesture, pulling a beam rifle into my hand. I open fire, just in case.

Chapter 23

When I�m finally done, I find myself standing in the silence of space. Ali is darting back from Asgauver�s corpse, having flown over and stripped the giant hippo of his gear. A part of me is surprised to note the Spirit�s already done the same for the various other corpses, but I shake off the thought as my senses return to me slowly with no additional threats around me.

There�s no hiss of escaping air any longer, just the throb of warning sirens beneath my feet and strobing red warning lights which indicate the room has been depressurized. My lungs ache from the lack of oxygen, eyeballs burning and frosting over under the cracked helmet. My body aches with the lack of oxygen, my lungs clawing for much-needed sustenance as my Skill flickers off and pain returns.

I look upward, seeing the gaping hole I created when I called forth the Beacon of Angels, melting armor and damaging the Galactics within. If not for the floor being reinforced by the Commander and an unconscious flexing of my own Skill, it might have torn through the floor too. For a moment, the silence of the vacuum consumes me, the unhindered view of the stars and Earth below bringing with it its own sense of peace.

�Eh, boy-o. I can keep throwing Heals on you, but you�re running out of health here either way.�

�Sorry.� I tap the helmet and toss it back into my storage then pull out another one and clip it on. It�s not as good, but for a spare, it does its job perfectly.

A second later, it covers my face, the warmth from my body heating up the tiny sealed space. Oxygen, stored in a small reservoir within the helmet, pumps in, filling the emptiness in my lungs. It�s barely enough for a minute of normal use and my body consumes it hungrily.

�Not even the sense to put on a helmet in vacuum.� Ali�s mental grumbling is comforting in my numb state. A familiar refrain.

With a shake of my head, I walk toward the exit. At the door, I frown, realizing I have no idea how to get in without depressurizing the rest of the station.

�One second.� The Spirit darts through the door, phasing right through it before his vision is impressed on me.

A moment later, I Blink Step into the warm, oxygenated corridor. The sudden shift in temperature is comfortable at first then painful, as dead nerves regenerate and cold flesh warms. I grunt through the pain while Phil stands in front of me, blocking my friends.

�Mr. Lee,� Phil says. �Take a moment to gather yourself. Say goodbye to your friends. Then I expect you to leave.�

�You�re banishing him?� Lana says, her eyes wide.

�He continued fighting after he was ordered to stop. He caused significant damage to the station. Be grateful I�m only banishing him for a period and not permanently,� Phil says.

When Lana opens her mouth to argue, I shake my head. It�s more than fair. And I�ve got better things to do on Earth anyway.

�Where�s Rob?� I ask.

�He�s back on Earth, under serious guard,� Lana says. �I dispatched Roland and Shadow to join them too. He should be safe enough.�

I nod. I know his security detail, and while they might not be Master Classes yet, they�re not that far away. If it weren�t for their need to constantly guard their charges, with the talent and dedication those men�and women�have, they�d be much higher Leveled. �Roxley?�

Lana shakes her head. �He had to leave. The Truinnar are busy reorganizing and discussing the fallout and keeping an eye on the Movana. There�s a lot of fighting going on on Earth now, with the Indian and Chinese settlements mobilizing and the Galactics getting ready to pick off anyone still left standing.�

I grunt, closing my eyes, then open them. My voice, when it comes out, is cold and aloof, the emotions shoved aside for now. �Ingrid�s dead.�

�I know.� Lana�s voice is laced with pain but carefully controlled.

�Katherine, can you liaise with Phil? Let�s see what we can do to help him fix up the station. And make sure this never happens again,� I say, and the older woman gives a short nod. I turn to Lana, my voice growing colder as my mind turns. �Get an occupation force ready.�

�John��

�Don�t worry. I won�t do anything stupid. But they�re down a Master Class and are stretched thin. I�m going to take back those cities,� I say firmly. �And then, I�m going to take one of theirs.�

Lana�s brows furrow, but she nods as I knew she would. I turn to Phil, giving him a grateful nod. He didn�t need to give me the few minutes.

A second later, Phil engages the station�s teleportation matrix and I�m gone to another blood-soaked battlefield. War may be an extension of diplomacy, but it�s also what happens when greed overcomes diplomacy.

Days later, we�re gathered once more, up north. Not Whitehorse, because she didn�t come from the city. No, we went further. It took us hours to fight our way up, hours of dealing with creatures that once were a deadly threat and now are nothing but an excuse to vent.

We find ourselves at the remnants of the old cemetery a few kilometers upriver of the settlement. The cemetery is part of the Tr�ond�k Hw�ch�in�s gathering place, a cultural center that is now barren and desolate, the few buildings shattered and grown over. The cemetery itself is on the top of the hill, overlooking the frozen Yukon River, older headstones and the white picket fence hidden beneath the snow. It takes a little time to clear the snow off the ground and form the grave. Afterward, we deposit her body within.

In minutes, I have a Portal open and friends stream in. People whose lives that quiet, sarcastic, and jaded woman touched. Jason and Sarah, Andrea and Mike, Vir and Capstan. A few of the champions. General Miller. More. People that I don�t know but who have requested an opportunity to say goodbye. And so, I open Portals and people stream in. Some who weren�t able to reach the waypoints I have available port in.

I have no words, no way to speak of the loss of another damn friend. But luckily, I have friends and they know what to say, what to do. And so, when the grave is closed, people speak.

Some of fond social times. Others, so many others, of times when Ingrid appeared in battle to save them. And some, a select few, of the woman behind the mask. Of the times when Ingrid let her guard down and laughed, when she smiled. When she forgot about the loss of her people, of all her friends and family. And then it�s my turn.

�I�ll miss her bannock,� I say, feeling the weight of the crowd�s attention on me. But I ignore them, staring at the small mound of earth that holds my friend. Such a small amount of space for a woman who had been larger than life. �I�ll miss her ribbing me, her attempts at keeping me grounded. I�ll miss her practical approach to problems�

�I�ll miss my friend. But I know, I believe, she died doing what she wanted. I believe she died because sometimes, some things can�t be accepted. She died giving us a chance to make Earth better.�

There�s silence before someone else speaks. I listen half-heartedly while staring at the grave. It�s strange. I�m not exactly sure why her death has hit me so hard. Perhaps it�s because after coming back after so long away, seeing my friends became more important than I thought. Perhaps it�s because I was stuck in hell for so long, and till now, I�ve not yet had time to relax. Or perhaps, perhaps, I miss what could have been.

Time passes and people slowly leave. I Portal nearly everyone away, leaving only a few of us standing in the cemetery. In the corner of my eyes, I see the blips inching their way in, monsters growing slowly bolder as the gathering disperses. Scavengers and opportunistic predators, hoping for the weak or distracted. I briefly consider showing them how wrong they are.

�President Markey called and asked if I would accept the position of Deputy Governor,� Roxley says, his voice cutting through the ashen haze that fills my mind.

�Pardon?�

�President Markey called��

�I heard you the first time,� I cut Roxley off and wave. �Why?�

�I believe he�s looking for assurance and backing. With the splintering of your other human factions, humanity�s position has grown more precarious. We spoke of acting against the groups of Independents within North America, as well as ceding certain territories to regain his United States,� Roxley says.

�He asked me for help too,� Lana confirms, a slight twist in her lips. I wonder what it means, but don�t find the motivation in me to pursue the matter.

�India and China?� I ask softly.

�Already fighting at the borders.� Mikito sighs, rubbing her temple. �The champions have their hands full trying to keep the dungeons and Galactics at bay. Cheng Shao is doing her best to slow down China, but there�s no equivalent in the Indian sub-continent. They�re all��

�Fighting. Trying to become the top dog. If it wasn�t for the internal strife, they�d be in all-out war,� Lana says. I have to admit, I�m grateful for human idiocy.

�Can Rob get the votes?� I ask, and looks are traded around. In five years, we�re going to have to do this all again. With the current state of affairs, we might get less than fifty percent of the vote if we�re lucky.

�Five years is a very long time�� Mikito voices the only hope we have.

Though I took back every settlement taken by the Fist and one of theirs, it�s not enough. Not by far. I know more and more of their people are pouring in, an aggressive stance they�ve taken which hasn�t broken into outright war. Yet. Even the additional taxes and entry fees Rob has thrown up are doing little to slow the Fist.

�President Markey also asked if I had a recommendation for the envoy,� Roxley adds, and I twitch. �It is just a term, not a designation.�

�Heh. Just don�t want them returning the favor,� I say.

�No. We have rules,� Roxley says then smiles grimly. �Though the fact President Markey hails from the same country as the perpetrator has less than desirable optics.�

�No shit.� I scratch my head, thinking about Roxley�s question.

I look at the two ladies, and Mikito gives me a shrug. Yeah, fair enough�the lady is an even worse choice than I am. Most of Mikito�s contacts would be less than suitable. Lana on the other hand�

�Stop looking at me like that,� Lana says, her eyes narrowing.

I offer her a light shrug and look away. Fine. Maybe I do put a lot of hopes and burdens on the lady. On the other hand, I do note how in the months I�ve been back, I have yet to actually meet her boyfriend. I�m not exactly sure what it says about what she thinks of me, that even now she refuses to introduce us.

�It�s not as if I have a list of people who should go,� Lana adds. �It was supposed to be Rob� but��

�But he�s Governor now.� I grimace. �And there was no guarantee he�d go. Doesn�t he have anyone on his staff he can tap?�

�Probably busy,� Lana says with a shrug. �Anyone good enough to go would be good enough to run a settlement. And we�re a little pressed on that front.�

I can�t help but agree. The need for good, competent, trustworthy individuals is not small. In some cases, I know we�ve had to compromise and go for two out of three. And once in place, not many settlement owners are willing to give up their spots.

�What about Peter?� I say, recalling the Diplomat. After all, we�re literally talking about a diplomatic mission. And his work has been good.

�He�s on the team, but Rob has suggested we find someone else if possible,� Roxley says. �I agree. It would be best to find a Diplomat who is not tied directly to the Governor. This is meant to be a mission for the entire planet.�

Fair enough, though I�m not entirely sure asking us is much better, considering we�re from Canada. If half the world before the apocalypse couldn�t tell the difference between the two countries, I�m not sure it�d be any different now. Still, perhaps we could find a settlement owner with a competent assistant like I had. Of course, people like Katherine�

�Oh. Duh.�

�You thought of something, John?� Roxley says.

�Katherine.�

Everyone pauses, their brains working on overdrive before there�re a few curses for forgetting such a simple answer.

�Exemplary suggestion. I shall endeavor to inform President Markey and allow him to extend the invitation,� Roxley says.

�And I�ll inform Katherine beforehand so that it�s not a complete surprise,� Lana adds.

I nod. With that major issue dealt with, Roxley asks for a Portal back to Whitehorse. Lana departs next, leaving me with Mikito and Ali as the monsters close in. The Samurai tilts her head, looking at me.

�So. What now?� Mikito asks.

I consider her words. There are still settlements in doubt, dungeons close to overflowing, a space station commander who needs to be repaid. People to say goodbye to, arrangements to be made. But glancing at the grave, I find a sardonic smile crossing my face as a wave of exhaustion runs through me.

�What do you think of bannock?�

A few days later, after Katherine had�politely�bitched about being tossed into the deep end, the Erethrans find me in the middle of clearing a dungeon by myself. With the champions stretched thin by the various conflicts and my reputation for killing settlement owners and taking settlements, I�ve been banished from dealing with the politics. It doesn�t help that my Reputation took a bit of a ding when I wasn�t able to completely cover all the deals I�d made. The agreements I�d had with Bipasha were voided after her death, and while Rob was thankful for our help, he was also less willing to play ball. Sadly, the man is smart enough to realize I can�t and won�t do anything to him, so he�s gone ahead and screwed me over a bit to get what he wants. I can�t complain too much�it�s not as if I didn�t sacrifice him earlier to the altar of expedience.

I admit, I�m still surprised to see the Erethrans. The champion looks around the Level 80 dungeon with a sniff and waves at the team of Erethrans, who rush forward at her command. Within seconds, we�re left alone except for her usual shadows.

�Champion,� I greet Ayuri before I nod at Unilo and Mayaya. �Shadows.�

I get a slight smile from Unilo, but Mayaya just stares at me with his blank expression. I roll my eyes theatrically before Ayuri coughs into her hand, drawing my attention back to her.

�I wanted to meet with you before you left,� Ayuri says.

�Calling in your favor?� I say.

�It�s Unilo�s. And no. I wanted to inform you that we�ll be leaving soon,� Ayuri says. �Matters at home have progressed. It�s possible we might need you to return to Erethra at some point soon. Try not to get yourself killed.�

I chuckle but sober up when Ayuri doesn�t even crack a smile. She�s surprisingly serious�for a woman who doesn�t seem to take much seriously.

�You crossed the Fist. And while Asgauver and his cronies were not particularly strong, they were connected,� Ayuri says. �Your actions have made your position in Erethra even more tenuous. We are, technically, part of their faction.�

�You are?� I exclaim.

�Of course. We�re a warrior-based society. The Army by itself has nearly twenty-four percent of our population under arms, and that doesn�t include independent Adventurers,� Ayuri says. �The only way we are able to keep those numbers viable is via Dungeon Worlds like yours.�

I feel truly conflicted now. I always knew the Erethrans focused more on quantity than quality for their defenses, though the Honor Guard is obviously the cream of the crop. Still, the realization hits hard. The Erethran�s, the group I�ve somewhat allied myself with are part of the Fist, a group that elected to cause our apocalypse. With a slight shake of my head, I push it aside for later consideration.

�So you figure I�m going to be forced to deal with hardliners if I ever come to Erethra,� I say with a slight twitch of my lips. Well, damn.

�When you come, I expect you�ll anger many of the traditionalists and Fist adherents,� Ayuri agrees. �I would also consider distancing yourself from your people once you arrive in Irvina. It is highly likely you will be targeted.�

�More assassinations?� I sigh loudly.

�Among other things. Be careful. Irvina is a hotbed of politics, and you, Mr. Lee, are as subtle as an orbital strike.�

The statement gets a chuckle from Unilo. Warning given, I�m actually shooed away as the Erethrans proceed to hog the dungeon. Left with no monsters to kill, I walk out of the dungeon and Port back home, heading for the Shop. I need to pick up a few things before we leave in a few days and deal with all the loot I picked up from Fang Lei�s, Asgauver�s, and their cronies� bodies. Bipasha�s I�ve returned to her settlement. There�s something about looting your allies that seems wrong, no matter the kind of advantage it might give you. But still, whatever else I had to say about Fang Lei and the hippo, they had good stuff. I�ll need to rework some of it to be more suitable for me, but I figure it�ll be ready for when I get to Irvina.

As I walk toward the Shop, I pull up my Status Screen, looking at the progress I�ve made since I came back from the Forbidden Zone. It�s been a crazy half year.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer

Health

3470

Stamina

3470

Mana

3220

Mana Regeneration

272 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

227

Agility

307

Constitution

347

Perception

172

Intelligence

322

Willpower

352

Charisma

110

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Analyze*

Harden*

Quantum Lock*

Elastic Skin*

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Mud Walls

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Epilogue

The world spins slowly beneath us, showcasing an endless vista of blue. The Atlantic Ocean is covered in spinning white clouds that earmark the start of another massive hurricane, the islands which make up the Caribbean hidden at this angle. A part of me winces at how bad things will get for my friends below. Ever since the apocalypse, hurricanes have included Elementals and Spirits galore, creatures of fickle disposition and violent nature. Still, the violence which is about to erupt is only in my mind. In my vision before me is only a peaceful blue globe.

�Taking one last look?� Katherine asks as she stands beside me, her hand resting lightly on the railing of the ship�s observatory.

I don�t blame Phil for putting us on the passenger ship as soon as possible, rather than keeping us on the station. Well, not much.

�Yeah. Trying to imprint it on my mind.� Not as though it�s particularly hard, not with the Intelligence I have. Some things, like an almost photographic memory, come naturally to me now. Just another damn change.

�You make it sound like you don�t expect to see it again.� The words are uttered like a statement, as if Katherine knows the answer.

And so rather than answer her, I fall silent. As usual, Katherine doesn�t push, for which I�m grateful.

�Eh, I�ve seen prettier planets,� Ali says, standing beside us and sipping on a drink.

�Not all of us live in the elemental plane of stupidity,� I reply to Ali.

�Hey!�

�Well, it seems both Ms. Pearson and Lord Roxley would regret it if you did not return,� Katherine says.

I grunt, turning sideways to spot Mikito seated on a comfortable chair, staring at a broadcast arena match. The Spear of Humanity just showed up at the teleportation pad this morning, as if her presence was perfectly reasonable. When I inquired about what she was doing there, she simply said �Baka,� and walked away.

�Perhaps. But it�ll be a lot of years�� I finally say.

�Five. Not much longer than when you were gone,� Katherine says. �Did I ever tell you thank you?�

�What for?�

�Hiring me.�

I snort. �Pretty sure that�s my line.�

�No, it�s mine. I was lost. In this world, I was nothing. I only survived because others, braver others, sacrificed themselves to save me. I had no purpose, and so when you and your mismanagement happened, I jumped at the chance. I was so scared you would turn me down,� Katherine says, looking at me.

I refuse to meet her gaze, focusing on Earth beneath us, the slowly diminishing planet. �I�d have been a fool to do so.�

�True.� Katherine half smiles. �I never did ask why.�

My lips twist slightly, amusement at the sudden change in temperament. Then again, we are leaving Earth�for the first time in Katherine�s case. A certain level of sappiness is to be expected. �You�ve got a lot of work ahead of you. A lot to learn. It�s a completely different ball game, and we�re minnows in a great big, blue sea. And, Katherine, when we arrive��

�Yes?�

�Ali and I will be separating from the group. While we have to use you to get into the capital, you need to distance yourself�and Earth�from us as soon as possible.�

�What are you planning?�

I straighten, Earth already no larger than a particularly large yoga ball in the viewport. It�s strange we don�t even feel a touch of the acceleration. Then again, there�s artificial gravity too. So hey, what�s a little inertia dampening?

I flash Katherine a comforting smile before I turn away. �Remember. Distance yourself.�

We have nearly two months to get there on this cruiser. Two months to train, to study, to prepare. And then� well. Then we�ll finally be able to start answering the question that�s been plaguing me since the beginning.

What the hell is the System?

###

THE END

For now.

John and Ali will be back in a new Galactic arc in book 7!

Author�s Note

Well, that�s it. That�s the second arc of the System Apocalypse series. The next arc takes John and Ali into the Galactic arena, with the pair of them having to face a whole new world. John�s grown a lot, both in Class and as a person, but the challenges he�ll face next will be galactic in scope.

I also wanted to discuss why John�s Master Quest was not in this book, but instead we skipped four years ahead. This wasn�t an easy decision and one that I struggled with through the entire end of book five, as I contemplated the next book..

As many of you have noticed, John didn�t rise in Level at all during his stay in the Forbidden Zone. The entirety of his Master Quest can be considered a very long training montage. And while I enjoy writing fight scenes, an entire book of endless fights without any Level gains might be extremely boring and certainly not very LitRPG. Rather than subject readers to that, I time-skipped the process. In addition, while the effect of the Master Quest was important, the actual process itself is not important to the story.

I will, at some point, write book 5.5�the training montage�for those curious, but due to the way the book / quest / world is structured, it will veer much more toward �normal� fantasy. No Level Ups, no Stat Screens, etc. This way, those who are still curious can read it, while those who are more interested in the overall story can continue to enjoy the series.

Hopefully, that gives everyone some context.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Not only is it a big ego boost, it also helps sales and convinces me to write more in the series!

In addition, please check out my other series, the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional LitRPG fantasy) and the Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy GameLit series). Book one of each series follow:

A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BV7PY1G)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

GameLit SocietyGameLit Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

LitRPG BooksLitRPG Books(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books/)

About the Author

For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

Or sign up for my mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c35JS1http://eepurl.com/c35JS1(http://eepurl.com/c35JS1)

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Or support me on Patreon direct at: https://www.patreon.com/taowonghttps://www.patreon.com/taowong(https://www.patreon.com/taowong)

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s

Resolve

Greater

Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand

Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 3)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with mana to deal more damage on each hit. +20 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 15 Mana per minute permanently.

Blade Strike (Level 3)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 30 feet away.

Cost: 30 Stamina + 30 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 30 cubic feet. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

A Thousand Blades (Level 3)

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 10,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Army of One (Level 2)

Cost: 750 Mana

Sanctum (Level 2)

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eye of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Eye of the Storm

Society�s Web

Judgment of All

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force

Domain

Shackles of Eternity

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Class Skill: Penetration (Level 2)

Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 10 permanently.

Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive spells by 55%. Increases damage done to shields by 110%.

Class Skill: Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

Note: Aura may be activated or left-off at will.

Beacon of the Angels

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the 20 meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

Eyes of Insight (Level 1)

Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.

Effect: All Skills, Spells and abilities of a lower grade that obfuscate, hinder or deceive the Paladin are reduced in effectiveness. Level of reduction proportionate to degree of difference in grade and Skill Level.

Eye of the Storm (Level 1)

Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second

Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 1)

Effect: +30 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 50% and recovery rates by 30%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute and speed boosting Skills or spells.

Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second

Society�s Web (Level 1)

Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.

Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute

Other Class Skills

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1 - Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Shrunken Footprints (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Sabre

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Effect: Heals 40 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Effect: Creates four missiles out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 30 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 35 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Effect: Call forth the power of the gods, casting lightning. Lightning Strike may affect additional targets depending on proximity, charge and other conductive materials on-hand. Does 100 points of electrical damage.

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity

Greater Regeneration (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Firestorm

Effect: Create a firestorm with a radius of 5 meters. Deals 250 points of fire damage to those caught within. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing (II)

Effect: Heals 100 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 75 Mana

Mana Drip (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 200 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 150 Mana

Mud Walls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Sabre�s Load-Out

Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle (Sabre)

Core: Class II Omnitron Mana Engine

CPU: Class D Xylik Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier IV (Modified with Adaptive Resistance)

Hard Points: 5 (5 Used)

Soft Points: 3 (3 Used)

Requires: Neural Link for Advanced Configuration

Battery Capacity: 120/120

Attribute Bonuses: +35 Strength, +18 Agility, +10 Perception

Inlin Type II Projectile Rifle

Base Damage: N/A (Dependent Upon Ammunition)

Ammo Capacity: 45/45

Available Ammunition: 250 Standard, 150 Armor Piercing, 200 High Explosive, 25 Luminescent

Ares Type II Shield Generator

Base Shielding: 2,000 HP

Regeneration Rate: 50/second unlinked, 200/second linked

Mkylin Type IV Mini-Missile Launchers

Base Damage: N/A (dependent on missiles purchased)

Battery Capacity: 6/6

Reload rate from internal batteries: 10 seconds

Available Ammunition: 12 Standard, 12 High Explosive, 12 Armor Piercing, 4 Napalm

Monolam Temporal Cloak

This Temporal Cloak splices the user�s timeline, adjusting their physical, emotional, and psychic presence to randomly associated times. This allows the user to evade notice from most sensors and individuals. The Monolam Temporal Cloak has multiple settings for a variety of situations, varying the type and level of dispersal of the signal.

Requirements: 1 Hardpoint, Tier IV Mana Engine

Duration: Varies depending on cloaking level

Type II Webbing Mini-Missile

Base Damage: N/A

Effect: Disperses insta-webbing upon impact or on activation. Dispersal covers 3 cubic feet.

Cost: 500 Credits

Shinowa Type II Sonic Pulser

Base Damage: 25 per second

Additional Effect: Disrupts auditory sense of balance on opponent during use. Effects have a small chance of continuing after use.

Joola Communication Booster (Tier II)

Military Grade Communication Booster able to deliver your message where and when it needs to be. Joola Tech is the only way to go when what you need to say needs to be heard!

Other Equipment

Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 18

Battery Capacity: 24/24

Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 57

Battery Capacity: 17/17

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 218

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 350/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

The Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions are more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.

Ring of Greater Shielding

Max Duration: 7 Minutes

Charges: 1

Stars Awoken: A LitRPG Apocalypse (The System Apocalypse Book 7) Tao Wong

The Stars Awoken

Book 7 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

License Notes

The Stars Awoken

ISBN: 9781989458068

Contents

What Has Gone Before

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Author�s Note

About the Author

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Other Class Skills

Spells

Equipment

What Has Gone Before

John Lee is one such survivor, starting from the depths of the Yukon and traveling south to aid humanity in its struggle to stay free of their Galactic overlords. As a settlement owner in British Columbia, he joined forces with the remnant military forces of the United States on the West Coast and proceeded to wage a war to free the Canadian prairies and the US West Coast. Forced to take his Master Class Quest by the Erethran Honor Guard and the Erethran Champion, John returned from the Forbidden Zone planet he was portaled to with new powers and to a changed Earth.

Working together with his friends, many whom had changed and gotten on with their lives in the four years he had been exiled, John aided Earth in establishing a planetary government. Forced to fight both the Movanna and the Fist, John and his friends are betrayed by other humans at the very end. Even betrayed, Earth has managed to form the very first planetary government based on a Dungeon World. Now, John travels to Irvina with the Earth ambassador, in search of answers of what the System really is. And what, if any, place an ex-computer programmer turned warrior has in it.

Chapter 1

Watching the stars flash by on the observation deck is a strange experience. In hyperspace, they stop being a single point of light but instead become streaks that appear and disappear as we cross unimaginable distances in the blink of an eye. The journey to Praxis is about a week in, but I still haven�t gotten enough of the sight. It reminds me, again and again, how small I am and how unimaginably vast the universe is.

Not that it�s my first time out of Earth�s solar system, but being Portaled directly across thousands of light years isn�t the same thing at all. There�s no sense of journey that way, no sense of growing wonder. This trip feels more real. More� momentous.

�John?�

Mikito�s voice brings my head up to stare at the little Japanese woman. She has cut her hair again, turning it into a short bob. She�s dressed in what I call adventurer chic�dark, armored jumpsuit with holstered beam pistol and knife on her hips made from monster parts and nano-modified thread. Her usual weapon, the naginata Hitoshi, is stored away at the request of the captain. Something about too-sharp weapons in his fragile ship.

�You�re back. You win?� I say, raising an eyebrow as I lean up against the standing table.

Ever since Mikito found out that there�s a virtual, holographic projector of the fighting arenas onboard, she�s spent a good portion of the trip there. I tried it once, but the disparity of having your virtual life points deducted for blows you never felt was too much for me. Even if my life is like a game in some ways, playing a game in the game of my life is a little too meta for me.

�I did.�

�Great.� I acknowledge the notification that arrives a moment later that informs me my hundred-Credit bet on Mikito has paid out. A sizeable betting pool revolves around the virtual games. And a good bet is a good bet.

�John Lee and Mikito Sato.� The cultured voice cuts off any further conversation as both of us turn. In front of us is a grizzled older man, curly hair speckled with grey and shorn tight against his scalp, highlighting his dark umber black-brown skin. The man wears a multi-pocketed vest and cargo pants while offering us a friendly smile. The British accent is familiar, though I struggle to place it. �And of course, the Spirit Ali.�

Purely by instinct, I eye the rest of the viewing room. Set against an outer hull, the glass�or whatever clear material they use to create the viewing walls�provides an amazing view. A part of me wonders if it�s even clear. They might just be very good screens reflecting what is outside. If so, it�s an amazing illusion.

The illusion is so good that this and the other three viewing rooms on the observation deck are filled with the various Galactic guests of the merchant cruiser we are shipping with. Even if the merchant ship is mostly meant for cargo, it�s large enough to carry slightly over two hundred passengers in its various cabins without impacting its main task. Though, I�m led to understand, some of the less-expensive cabins are no better than jail cells. Around us, the Galactics are a mixture of the exotic, the bizarre, and the familiar. Truinnar mix with Yerrick, Dwarves stand elbow to elbow with Akkorokamui squid humanoids in full-body water suits while Lilitu�avian-humanoids with bird legs�talk to Pooskeens. Galactic civilization at its finest.

Ali looks up from where he floats in his pint-size form at my shoulder and does a double-take. He flicks his hand slightly, dismissing System screens that no one else can see, as he stares at our new guest. �Oh wow. It�s you! I mean, I knew you were onboard. But whoa!�

�You know him?� I say with a frown, tilting my head toward the starstruck Spirit.

�You don�t?� Mikito says, shaking her head. She puts her hand out to shake the stranger�s. �Good to see you, Harry.�

Well, I got that part. I stare at the notification information above Harry then watch as Ali updates it further for my use. Oh. Oh�

Harry Prince, the Unfiltered Eye (War Correspondent Level 39)

HP: 520/520

MP: 1780/1780

Conditions: Reporter�s Luck, Nose for Trouble, Just a Bystander

�Oh! You,� I say, realizing who he is when I see the full details of his Status. I might be somewhat ignorant about those who made a name for themselves during my absence, but Harry is a special case. For one thing, I recall seeing him at various battle sites in the last year. Curious that I didn�t remember him being at those sites till now.

�That�d be his Skill, boy-o.� Ali sends to me telepathically, reading the slight changes in my facial expression with the ease of a long-time companion.

I swear, we�re like an old couple sometimes, picking up on the unsaid. Except, you know, without the sex. Wait. Old people have sex, right? Actually, never mind. I�m glad for the distraction as Ali populates Harry�s Skill information for me.

Skill: Just a Bystander

A rare non-Combat Skill that will allow non-combat personnel and observers to traverse through battlefields and other combat regions with greater safety. This Skill hides the User from casual observation as well as reduces the effect of indiscriminate attacks.

Effect: User sees a +500% increase in Stealth, Disguise, and Camouflage skill levels while this Skill is active. Untargeted attacks and spells have a 50% reduction in effect on User. Additionally, memory and area-of-effect mental manipulation Skills and spells must be specifically targeted at User. Lastly, memories of User will be obscured until active recollection or trigger event occurs.

�Yes, me,� Harry says with a smile. �I was hoping to speak with you both.�

�Why?� I ask suspiciously. If he had a tape recorder, I�d be giving it the stink-eye, but I�m willing to bet Harry�s got an equivalent Skill for that. Who needs physical toys when the System works just as well? If not better.

�It seems like the rumors are true,� Harry says, keeping that reassuring smile on his face. �But you need not worry. I�m not looking to make you the target of my reports. At least, not directly.�

�Then what do you want?� I ask while Mikito stays silent, sipping on her newly delivered orange slushy cocktail, and watches the interplay.

�You know I�m part of the diplomatic press corp, right? Well, technically. But the fact is, there�re a half-dozen reporters setting up to follow the ambassador around, covering all the politics,� Harry said. �But the minutiae of politics, that�s never been my thing.�

�Blood and guts is yours. And you figure following Mikito and me will get you that,� I say, my lips tightening.

�Some respect there, John! Harry Prince is more than a blood-and-guts reporter! He�s an award-winning reporter who did amazing expos�s about your pre-System world. The Unfiltered Eye has shot some of the best works for Earth since the System arrived. He�s even been considered for an Ummi,� Ali interrupts, waving. �An Ummi!�

�What exactly is an Ummi?� I say.

�Just a Galactic award,� Harry says, waving to dismiss the topic. �I won�t say the fact that you and Ms. Sato are known loci of violence is a detraction from your attractiveness, but I�m looking more to report on areas outside of the diplomatic scene. As your stated intentions are to break from the team immediately upon arrival��

�You figure you�ll shelter under our kind arms.� I shake my head. �No thanks.�

�Now, there�s no need to be hasty. While I�m not a Combat Classer, I do have a number of��

�No, thank you. We�re not a tour group. In fact, you can��

The remainder of my sentence gets interrupted by the ship�s klaxon. Everything flashes purple while the discordant whine interrupts conversations everywhere. A moment later, we get a System notification from the ship�s captain.

Ship-wide Alert!

We have encountered a pirate fleet. As per Galactic conventions, we are matching speeds with said pirates. All non-insured passengers, this is your prescribed warning.

�What? They�re matching speeds with the pirates?� I frown in confusion. Still, it doesn�t stop me from standing and dressing myself for trouble. Armored jumpsuit, protective vest, weapons belt, it all goes on, drawn from the System inventory.

�Galactic convention. Since pirates can buy ship routes from the System, it�s hard to avoid them. Rather than actually fight the pirates, merchant ships take out insurance for such incidents. When the pirates dock, the System registers the fact that they�ve �pirated� the ship and said insurance companies pay out the Credits. Makes it nice and easy for everyone,� Ali says.

�Honto baka dane!� Mikito swears, and I can�t help but agree. It really is idiotic.

�What about this part about uninsured passengers?� Katherine, my ex-secretary and now the designated representative for Earth, speaks up the moment she nears our table.

Trailing behind her is Peter Steele, the Planetary Diplomat, who is busy muttering over his commlink. At a guess, he�s herding everyone together. The man is still a full tie and suit ensemble in space while waving his hands around as he harangues whoever is on the line.

�Well, that�s the problem,� Harry says, his eyes unfocused. �From what I can see, uninsured passengers include all of us from Earth.�

�Why didn�t we get insurance?� Mikito says with a frown.

Katherine glares at the little Japanese lady before she admits through gritted teeth, �I didn�t realize it was needed.�

�Wouldn�t matter much anyway. Some of our members have quite a high bounty on them,� Harry adds, looking at me before switching his gaze to Mikito.

�Damn.�

That, sadly, is not news. Ali informed us of that unfortunate fact a while ago. In truth, all of us carry bounties�Katherine and Peter for their positions, and Mikito and myself for the trouble we caused on Earth. Of course, Katherine�s and Peter�s aren�t high enough to send anyone with sense after them, especially considering Peter has his cheat Skill, Diplomatic Immunity. On the other hand, Mikito and I have done enough damage to enough people that our bounties are significant enough that Ali felt the need to warn us of potential problems.

Katherine frowns. �What should we do? Will they take us as hostages?�

�Well, normally they�d either do that or just have you transfer all your belongings and Credits to them,� Ali says. �Or, you know, take you guys as slaves. But boy-o and Mikito make things a little more complicated.�

�Because of our bounty sizes?� I say.

�That too. But mostly because I don�t think you�re going to pay them off,� Ali says.

I chuckle ruefully as I finish buckling my belt. The damn Spirit knows me too well. Still leaves the question of what we should be doing. �We allowed to fight in the ship?�

�Allowed?� Katherine�s jaw drops. �When do you ever ask?�

�We�re not barbarians,� I say with a sniff.

�Boy-o�s worried he�s going to have to pay for damages. And while the captain and pilot would prefer you didn�t, they are covered under insurance,� Ali says.

�Great.� I grin, cracking my neck. �I�ve been missing a workout.�

�Yeah, about that�� Harry says, his eyes refocusing on me for a time. �Understand that if I add anything more, my Shop Skill will stop working.�

�You want protection.�

�Yes.�

�Done.�

Harry nods. �There are three Master and twenty-one Advanced Classes in the pirate ship. They�re armed and ready to deal with significant resistance on boarding.�

�Three Master Classes! Thousand hells,� I curse. �What are they doing out here?�

�Making money cheaply,� Ali says. �Payouts from the System and insurance companies are based off an intricate calculation of force, Pilot Skills, and ship firepower. The higher the weight on the pirates� side, the higher the payout percentage. In this case, they�re shooting for a full payout.�

One of the strange aspects of interstellar travel that I�d learned was the way Skills made a difference. While the spaceships themselves could fly through space, hyperspace travel was a creation of the System�at least the way we did it. As such, the Skills of a Pilot made a huge difference, as did the captain�s secondary support Skills. I�d even heard of one Legendary Pilot who disdained the concept of normal spaceships and flew around a fully habitable planet.

�Levels?� I finally say. If they�re Level 1s or close to it�

�Eight, fourteen, and twenty-three.�

�Damn. And how do you know all this?� I look at Ali. �And how is it you don�t?�

�I�m buying the information from the Shop at a discounted rate,� Harry says, smiling thinly. �One of my Skills�Background Research�gives me access to information for stories I might write. Another, War Correspondence, allows me to access certain aspects of the Shop anywhere. It lets me file my reports and buy information as needed.�

�Nice,� I say.

Ali sniffs at me, indicating he�s affronted by my questioning of his ability. But I don�t have time to deal with the Spirit, as the others are looking to me for a plan. Which, frankly, is worrying in many ways but something I�ve gotten used to. That hesitant web developer is gone, burned away in the fires of the apocalypse.

�All right. I�m assuming we don�t have to worry about them destroying the ship?�

When Harry and Ali nod, I rub my chin. That�s good. Still, my brain keeps stalling on the fact that three Masters are involved. There�s really no way for me to win a fight against three Masters. Then again, I cast my memory back to the science fiction books and movies I�ve seen, and my eyes open wide.

�You thought of something, John?� Mikito says, perking up.

�I have. Maybe. Depends on a few things, but we�re going to need help. Katherine, Peter, can you find out how many of the other passengers are uninsured and willing to fight?�

Katherine steps back as her eyes glaze over, her mouth moving as she silently contacts the passengers she�s spoken to. Peter deals with the passengers on the observation deck, moving from group to group. His bodyguard trails after him.

�Now, Ali, Harry. Tell me, in detail, how pirate raids work. Step by step, as close as you can get it.�

Chapter 2

Interstellar combat, if you disregard cheat scenario abilities like Star Trek teleporters, have to follow certain rules. Firstly, you�ve got to catch your prey. That�s relatively easy to do when the System will give you details at the wave of a hand and the passing of a few Credits. Secondly, if you�re actually looking to board and take the ships or its� passengers, you need to get your people over. That requires you to either connect your big, lumbering ship to another big, lumbering ship or, and this is definitely the preferred method, send over a smaller, more disposable shuttle. Or shuttles, I guess.

That, of course, makes ambushing them as they arrive the go-to method. The shuttle bays are the obvious chokepoint. Of course, if I know it�s an obvious chokepoint, the Galactics do too. There�s no way we�re going to out-maneuver these old hands if we play it safe. Even if they normally don�t have to deal with foolhardy foes, I�ve got to contend with a level of institutional knowledge. All that means is that we need to get creative.

Luckily, the first rule about space combat plays into our hands here. Both ships need to drop out of hyperspace, slow down till the pair matches velocities, then the shuttles have to make their way over. To ensure the merchant ship we�re on doesn�t randomly open fire and destroy their original ship, the pirates are keeping a good distance from us, forcing the shuttle to make its way across the expanse on its underpowered engines.

�Katherine. We good?� I speak aloud so everyone present can listen in. Crammed as we are in this room, there�s not much to divert people. Better for the volunteers to get some idea of what�s happening than stew in their own thoughts.

�I�m at the bridge with the captain and Pilot,� Katherine says. �They�ve reluctantly agreed to give me access to their sensors. Feed on the way.�

�Got it!� Ali sends to me mentally.

A moment later, a new notification screen appears. This notification screen is set to public, allowing my fellow uninsured a three-dimensional view of space around the merchant ship. The merchant ship is a big, blocky hexagon with a cone tip, rather than the sleek vehicle we�ve come to expect from aerodynamic planes. Galactic technology has become so trusted, there�s no need for windows anymore�beyond leisure requirements�so the bridge is situated in the center of the cone itself. The main thrusters are at the back of the ship, with smaller maneuvering thrusters dotted throughout the ship. While the ship can, and does, fly without the aid of the Pilot, his abilities make everything so much faster and more efficient.

In the distance, the pirate�s ship is menacing, a more ��traditional� and sleek vessel that has more room for thrusters and shielding than our blocky merchant cruiser. The front of the pirate ship contains the mounts for their beam weaponry as well as extra armoring and shielding. Not that our merchant vessel stands a chance in a stand-up fight. A fast-moving blip crosses the distance between us.

�So you�re certain they won�t blow up the ship if they lose a lot of their men?� I mutter to Harry as Ali focuses on adding more data to the screen.

�Likely not. Pirates exist on a calculus of cost and nuisance. They�re a nuisance to interstellar trading, but so long as they aren�t too costly, no one will throw out a large Quest to rid the galaxy of them. Destroying interstellar ships automatically puts them in the �too costly to live� column, and the Merchants Alliance will put up a Quest,� Harry reassures me softly. �It�s a fascinating facet of Galactic society. The articles on this are really interesting reading. I bet that given time, crime on Earth will look very much like this.�

�What, you mean it doesn�t already?� I say with a snort. �Pretty sure some of the gangs in the USA, the Yakuza, and a bunch of local warlords in the Middle East have figured that one out already.�

�True,� Harry says, his fingers wiggling as if he�s typing on an unseen keyboard. �I�ll have to add that to the article. I wonder if there�s a Class that could calculate exactly how much��

With a slight roll of my eyes, I shift my gaze to the giant notification screen. Already I see lights popping up all over our now-wireframe ship as Ali adds known positions for all our people. Katherine, Peter, and a quarter of our fighting personnel are in the bridge, there to protect and safeguard the ambassador.

As I said, space fights like this have certain rules, if you exclude teleportation. Thankfully, most Class Skills that allow teleportation of some form, like my Blink Step or Portal ability, also have limitations. Most of which come down to knowing where you are teleporting to. There are, as I understand it, rare Skills and spells that let you teleport or Portal into unseen, unknown locations, but they come with a significant Mana cost and even larger risks. Since most merchant ships have anti-scrying wards built into them, it�s hard to get a good look at where you�re teleporting to. Add in the illusionists and other Classes whose entire grab bags include tricking people, and teleporting becomes a lot trickier. Teleporting into solid objects is generally fatal�to the teleportee, the teleporter, and everyone nearby. Still, if there�s a time and place for a Skill like that, pirating other ships in space seems to fit the bill. Which is why Katherine and Peter have guards.

�We have any updates on the shuttle?� I say, eyeing the rapidly approaching dot.

�Nothing yet,� Katherine says. �The sensors on this ship are less than stellar.�

�Okay,� I say.

I turn to look at Harry, who shakes his head. He isn�t reading my mind of course. It�s just that I�ve asked him before if he can purchase information about the shuttle occupants from the Shop. Unfortunately, his Skill has certain limitations�and details like that isn�t considered �background� knowledge. It doesn�t help that he�s directly involved now, putting further limits on his Skills.

�Can we go over the plan again?� a hesitant voice, filled with a lot of sibilant hisses, asks. The speaker is speaking in Galactic, a language whose base is draconic but modified for humanoid voices and mixed with the various languages of the elder races. Unsurprisingly, every single human downloaded that language from the Shop before we left.

The volunteers are a mixed bunch, a large percentage of them coming from the human guards that are part of the diplomatic team. The rest are a mixture of Adventurers who were too poor or too stubborn to pay for proper insurance, individuals looking for some mayhem, and a few merchant guards. The actual merchants themselves are, of course, covered. The Adventurers are a wide range of races�everything from your standard fantasy fare to a half-cyborg creature that rolls around on wheels, a floating blob of green jello with tentacles, and something that looks like a cross between a cockroach and a slug.

�Simple enough. If there�s only one Master Class in that shuttle, we hit them hard and roll them over. That�s unlikely to happen. More likely there�s at least two of them in there, potentially all three. In that case, we�re going to beat them in detail.� When the various human and non-human Adventurers stare at me, I shrug. �More details to arrive when we get more information. But Mikito has you split into various teams. When the Portal opens, you just need to go through on your turn and blast anything that isn�t on our side.�

There are a lot of uncomfortable looks at my words, but considering this entire group is a slapdash affair, more complicated plans are as likely to cause mayhem as anything. The American military have a saying�Keep It Simple Stupid (KISS), and frankly, my experience has been that that works. Then again, I�m no Rommel. I�ve just picked up a few things in my time.

�Remember what your roles are in your teams and concentrate on that. You�ve got your team leaders. They�ll highlight your targets. Team leaders should know who to take out first, but Master Classes need to be contained while you take down the small fry,� I say. �Beyond that, I�ll be focusing on the Masters as much as possible, along with Mikito.�

The bodyguards look relieved, the aliens a little more inscrutable. But I know, from what Peter said, the only reason they�re agreeing to this is because I�m here. Otherwise, even serfdom is generally better than death.

�John, we have twenty-three and a half life-signs on the shuttle,� Katherine�s voice cuts in before I can dig the hole any deeper.

�A half?�

�Hold on. I�m getting clarification. Yes, Peter? Draugr? That�s� well, okay.� Katherine pauses before she speaks again. �John? Can you ask Ali?�

�Ali?�

�You need me now?� Ali says, shooting a look at Harry before smirking. But he doesn�t hesitate long. �Draugr. Remember the little Richard problem we had? Yeah well, Draugr are another damn attempt to get around death.� Behind the Spirit, a number of the Galactic Adventurers nod and twitch, confirming the Spirit�s words. �They have a unique Class that makes them impervious to pain, have a visible level of regeneration, resistances against physical and magical attacks, and close combat Mana striking abilities.�

�Sounds like great soldiers.� Harry�s lips compress as his eyes focus on a spot a few feet from his face.

�Sure, if you like your soldiers psychopathic, prone to violent outbursts, and cannibalistic,� Ali says.

�Anything else we can get from the sensors?� I question Katherine.

You would think that shipboard sensors wouldn�t be able to gather data like Classes and you�d be right�if we were talking normal science. But there�s nothing normal about physics since the System came into play, especially not when Class Skills are in the equation. And the merchant ship, while not having the specialized roles of Sensor Technicians and their ilk like a warship might have, does have a captain and a helmsmen.

�One second.� A tense moment later�one that has the shuttle slide within a few inches of our ship on the screen�and Katherine�s speaking. �They�re going for docking bay four. And we have confirmation that all three Master Classes are on board. One is showing extremely high Mana density in their body. The other two are registering average and low levels.�

�Mage of some form then. And fighters,� I say. �Thanks. Let me know if there�s anything else.�

�Of course,� Katherine says. �Out.�

I fall silent, staring at the shuttle as it approaches and merges with our ship. There�s no sensation, no thunk or shift in the ship as the shuttle connects with the docking bay. The only real change is that Ali throws up a new screen, one showing the inside of the docking bay. Surprisingly, rather than the door cycling open like I�d expect, we get something coming right through the still-closed door. A ghostly crawling octopod exits the docking bay doors and surveys the surroundings. In moments, the ghost octopod is joined by another pair. The trio of ghosts split up and head down different exits.

�Sensor ghosts,� Ali explains. �They�re controlled by one of the Advanced Classes in there. Most of their kind have little in combat ability, but they�re rather hard to deal with without using magic. Mana-based attacks are the most effective.�

The docking bay doors finally cycle apart, both inner and outer hatches sliding open with a hiss that only happens in my head. While Force Shields are used as secondary and emergency stops, they�re unreliable under high-stress situations. Better to rely on actual, high-tension metal alloys for everyday use. The pirates pour out of the docking bay in waves, a quartet moving forward to set up mobile portable force shields as a reinforced strongpoint. Behind them, five more take station, watching over the room with beam rifles, wands, and bare hands. When they are certain things are clear, the remainder of the pirates swagger out. Immediately, Ali populates their Status information for everyone, even adding helpful little bracketed letters to indicate the Class stages. After all, with the sheer variety of Galactic Classes, it�s impossible for me to know all of their relative stages at a glance.

My eyes are drawn to the trio that come out near the front, idly strolling forward with an air of supreme confidence. I don�t even need the little M after their Classes to know they�re the Master Classes. The sizes of their health and Mana bars are sufficient. The first to catch my eye is a round, tubby, furred creature with stubby hands and legs and beady little eyes.

Muk Muk, Shaper of Kumak, Winner of the Three hundredth and eight Suar, � (Woven Shapeshifter Level 14) (M)

HP: 4290/4290

MP: 1030/1030

Conditions: Altered Shape, Elastic Skin, Muscular Reconstruction

�He�s a shapeshifter and he chose to look like that?� I say, shaking my head.

A quick review of the information Ali populates gives me a rough idea of what I�m dealing with. Melee fighter with the ability to shift forms to play tank or damage dealer, depending on the situation. His Skills buff either form, though unlike a specialized tank or damage dealer, he�s not as good.

�He might be specialized for space combat, boy-o,� Ali says. �So lots more tanking and damage dealing ability and fewer forms, especially big ass, pants-wetting ones.�

�Right,� I say, shifting my gaze to the next form and nearly missing him.

Klimaras, (Mercenary Commando Level 8) (M)

HP: 3100/3100

MP: 2783/3090

Conditions: Blind Spot, Sense Weakness, Shadow Friend, Force Shield

Stealth damage dealer. Pretty much an assassin rogue. The fact that the humanoid carries a series of knobbly rods is interesting. Also, even standing still, Klimaras seems to fade into the background, which speaks of some impressive stealth skills. And probably a few Skills thrown in on top of that. Keeping track of him will be important. Either block his first attack or die kind of thing.

The last figure is the most interesting. At first, I mistake the robotic body it manipulates�a bulbous monstrosity with a pair of rotating guns and liquid metal stalks for feet and arms�as the creature. But on closer inspection, I see a hand-sized humanoid sitting inside a clear-glass cockpit that bobs around inside a volume of gel, moving his hands in time to the movement of the robot. Pink hair, a pair of hands, and a single fin make up the Master Classer in the robot.

Yidma, Overgeared (Artifact Tinkerer Level 23) (M)

HP: 430/430

MP: 2893/3820

Conditions: Shielded, Armed and Armored, Artifact Connection * 7

�What�s it doing?� I frown, staring as the robot works on setting up something on the floor.

The pirates don�t look to be in any particular hurry, standing around and eyeing the doors leading to the docking bay while their sensor ghosts scout out the surroundings.

�Teleportation pad. Probably keyed to artifacts on the boarding team.� This voice is squeaky and low.

I look sideways to stare at the Pooskeen Adventurer who answered me. I almost glare at him before I rein in my irritation. Just because his race tried to kill me doesn�t mean he�s going to. Or at least, I try to tell myself that.

�Tinkerers are more support Classes, replicating Spells and Skills via their gear,� the Pooskeen says.

I offer my nod of thanks while turning my attention to the last pirate of interest.

Draugr U-129, Doom of the Waza, Cannibal (Advanced Draugr Level 18) (A)

HP: 3110/3110

MP: 150/150

Conditions: Draugr, Envenomed Claws, Paralyzing Bite, Undead Resistance

�Pretty damn low Mana,� I say.

�The Draugr�s condition uses a lot of Mana, reducing their total Mana Pool. It also affects their regeneration significantly,� Ali says.

�Tough looking son of a bitch,� Harry says, staring at the Draugr.

The creature is crouched, chewing on a piece of meat whose origin I don�t want to consider. The creature is humanoid, with clawed fingers that are disproportionately long, hips that sit way too high on the body, and a grey-scaled, flaking body. The Draugr has no armor, clothing, or weapons, though the fanged teeth and claws are weapon enough.

After that, I let my eyes dance over the rest of the pirate crew, taking in details. A lot of individuals with beam weaponry, though almost all of them carry melee weapons of one form or another. Very few dedicated spellcasters, and of those, most are healers. A quick explanation by Ali reminds me to watch my own spells. No one wants to be shot out into space because some idiot spellcaster forgot to tone down his fireball.

With the information turning over in my mind, I settle on a plan as the nervous lizard-creature speaks up again. �Are we going to attack them? What are we going to do?�

�We�re going to wait. Mostly,� I say. �Katherine, send out team four and two. Put yourself on an intercept course with those sensor ghosts. I want them destroyed.�

�Roger.�

�Got it, John.�

I watch as the teams head out, the dots on the wireframe shifting as Ali does his best to keep track of the sensor ghosts and our people. Thankfully, my Level increases have pushed up the little Spirit�s ability to wield a much greater influence on the System. And, when things become necessary, he can enlarge his body and materialize to kick some ass. Surprisingly, the Spirit has gone back to staying in his smaller form for the most part, seeming to prefer being tiny, semi-translucent, and invisible to most.

�They�re splitting up.� Mikito says, bringing my attention back to the docking bay screen.

As she said, the three Master Classes are splitting up. Two groups leave, led by one Master Class each, in the direction of the cockpit and engines. The Tinkerer stays behind, working diligently to set up more fortifications and defenses, including a pair of large turrets.

Tinkerer-Modified Limi Flame Throwers

They�re modified flame throwers, boy-o, supported as much by the Tinkerer�s Skills as they are by actual working technology. Damage is going to be extremely high, so try not to get burnt.

Damage: ??/??

Rate of Fire: ??/??

Capacity: ??/??

Not particularly helpful, but it�s clear that the longer the Tinkerer has to work, the more of his toys he�ll be able to build. Still, I�m forced to wait till the pirate teams are a decent distance from each other. One advantage we have is that the merchant ship is huge.

�Team four here. Sensor ghost down.�

�Good,� I say, eyeing the suddenly fast-moving group nearest them. �Retreat to hold 4 � 3.�

�Roger.� Our team�s dot moves fast. Which is good. Except�

�Oy, idiots. The other way,� Ali speaks up before I do. He takes over giving them directions while muffled curses from the group erupt over the joint channel.

I ignore it all, eyeing the other sensor ghosts, who have slowed down and are darting through walls at a more regular pace. Unfortunately, our attacks mean that the pirate teams have sped up.

�Team two. Pull back.� Their acknowledgement is ignored as I turn to the rest of the volunteers around me. �Get ready. We�re going in.�

I meet Mikito�s eyes, knowing that the Samurai knows what I want. She gives me a half smile, her naginata in hand as she readies herself to dart through the Portal, casting Haste and other buffing spells on herself. All around us is the dim glow of various beneficial spells layering on the group, healing, mana, and defensive spells popping up one after the other. I take the time to layer my own Soul Shield on myself and Mikito before adding a third on Harry.

�Ready,� Mikito says.

Activating the Class Skill takes a few seconds of concentration. The moment the pitch-black Portal opens, Mikito darts through. The other end of the Portal opens up right in front of the docking bay doors. It gives Mikito a fraction of a second of surprise�more than enough time for the Samurai to attack. Rather than going for any single individual, she darts forward, intent on destroying their teleportation portal.

The rest of the teams jump through, one after the other, firing weapons, casting single-target spells, and activating Skills in a rush of destruction. One team swerves left, the other right, focusing their fire on the flame throwers that have turned around. Unfortunately, hidden shielding keeps them in working order, the spells, bullets, and beams splashing harmlessly against them.

�Oooh, rats coming through the Portal. How annoying�� the Tinkerer says.

Even as the Tinkerer turns toward the teleportation portal, Mikito�s Charge smashes apart the defensive shielding around it, tearing apart the contraption. As her naginata buries itself in the sensitive machinery, Hitoshi glows, Mana flooding the artifact.

�My pad! Damn you. That took months to build. How did you break the shielding? No. I�ll just have to take that weapon of yours. I can see it�s an artifact, oh yes.� The beam weapons on Yidma�s robotic form fires even while its legs patter over to the side, where new liquid-metal tendrils extend, patching together new machine parts that appear from its inventory.

�Move, people,� I snarl at the teams bunched up around the Portal.

I�ve kept the size of the Portal big enough for two people to go through at a time so that stray attacks from the other side don�t come bouncing back, but it also creates a bit of a chokepoint. Especially when the Adventurers and bodyguards hesitate about jumping through.

Heat washes through as the flame throwers kick in, burning a few unlucky, unshielded Adventurers. The teams on the other side are doing their best to take down the shields, but they�re hampered by the dozens of tiny drones the Tinkerer is throwing out and still building. I watch as the health of one slick-furred creature drops as it�s lit up in yellow and green flames. Hastily cast Healing spells extend its agony as the weapons chew through him.

�Boy-o, those shields are reforming based off his Mana. It�s a Class Skill,� Ali says. �You�re going to have to hit hard enough to pierce the active regeneration or take him out.�

Frack it.

�Move!� I tear past the group, in a couple of cases literally tossing my allies aside as I push forward. A moment�s concentration and the Portal slides open wider, allowing me to dive straight into the inferno. Already, I see the integrity of my Soul Shield drop as the damage ticks up. �Portal closing. Wait for orders!�

That�s about all the warning I have time to give as both pairs of flame throwers, a newly constructed beam cannon, and something that shoots metallic spikes focus fire on me. I swear mentally, wondering why I didn�t just charge in myself first.

My Soul Shield shatters under the onslaught, flames washing over my body even as the first spike impales my raised left arm. I cut another aside as the beam scorches my side, then I see my target. Blink Step takes me right above him, my favorite position to unleash a multi-bladed Blade Strike. Each arc of solidified force and Mana-edged strikes cut toward Yidma, only to be stopped inches away by a solidified Mana Shield.

Yidma, Overgeared (Artifact Tinkerer Level 23) (M)

HP: 430/430

MP: 1278/3820

Conditions: Shielded, Armed and Armored, Artifact Connection * 7

Shield Integrity: 874/2037

�Oh, another Master Class. No wonder the rats have some guts,� the Tinkerer says.

I land, my sword bouncing off its shield. The replica blades from Thousand Blades miss as the robot scurries backward. In his place, he drops a pair of four-legged drones with hammers for hands that swing at my knees. A portion of my mind splits, focusing on increasing both my Strength and Agility to root me in this reality more strongly. The action makes me the immovable object the drones pound on, throwing them off-balance. It�s a fraction of a second, but that�s more than enough for me to cut them apart with my conjured Soulbound sword.

�Boy-o, you�re going to get incoming in about six minutes. Draugr is coming back, hell-bent on having a good tasting, and I�ve lost track of the Commando,� Ali reports in.

�Other Master Classer?�

�Still on his way to the engine room.�

�ETA?� I�m cutting through the swarm of drones that the Tinkerer keeps creating or pulling from the other Adventurers. He�s entirely focused on me, which is great, except for the fact that I can�t get to him.

�Three minutes. He�s cutting through the doors like crazy.�

Snarling, I throw up a Soul Shield and charge forward, putting everything I have into the direct attack. I throw on Vanguard of the Apocalypse and Thousand Steps, giving me a slight boost in speed and strength. The drones crash and spin off my Soul Shield, monofilament blades and Mana-charged beams failing to penetrate.

Then I�m at the damn Tinkerer and slamming into his shield with my sword. A second later, the remainder of the trailing swords from my Thousand Blades Skill smash into the shield, and together, we overload the Tinkerer�s ability to stop the attack. Up close and personal, I grab hold of the bulbous body, charging an Enhanced Lightning Strike in that same hand even as I lift. A moment later, I�ve interposed the Tinkerer between his drones and me. Then I release the built-up charge of lightning in my hand.

Funny thing. Electricity set free in a metallic structure has a tendency to ground itself�fast. Even with a part of me guiding the flow of electricity using my Elemental Affinity, the vast majority of it floods right through the Tinkerer�s robot�s metallic legs into the floor, rather than jumping to the drones. And being the closest meatbag, I�m eating a ton of free electrons. It creates a feedback that has me clenching my teeth so hard they could shatter and causes smoke to peel off my skin. If I could scream, I would.

Artifact Tinkerer Slain

+249,381 Experience Gained

The experience notification flashes right in front of my eyes, along with a loud chime, clear enough that it cuts through the pain. I stop the channeling and sag to my feet, groaning as I shudder from the pain. Damn Tinkerer must have had a billion and one resistances in that bot to have survived so long. As it stands, my own health is down by nearly seven hundred points, never mind the rest of the damage I�ve taken from the Tinkerer�s other toys.

John Lee (Level 23 Erethran Paladin)

HP: 2238/3470

MP: 1873/3220

�No kneeling on the job,� Mikito cries out, dancing past me as she cuts apart a pair of drones. A wave of her polearm and an arc of flame and Mana explodes forward, catching a pair of Advanced pirates. Like living energy, the flames wrap around the three, holding them still for precious seconds as Mikito continues to dart through the docking bay, bringing aid and destruction as necessary.

�And where were you when I needed help?� I grumble as I stagger upward. But I know it�s a bit silly of me to complain. I�m the Master Classer, and Mikito had her hands full with the rest of the pirates.

An explosion turns my attention to one of the two flame throwers, now a melted wreck. Surprisingly, the second isn�t being attacked any longer, as the team focused on it turns their attention to a trio of pirates. Both groups are hunkered behind mobile barriers, trading spells and bullets while a still body lies between the two groups. As I raise my sword to cut down the flame thrower, it fires on a pirate, catching the half-hippo creature in the back with a concentrated blast of fire. All around, I realize that our side has the upper hand.

�Tick-tock. Two minutes till engineering falls,� Ali says.

My eyes narrow, thoughts whizzing by at a thousand, a million, miles an hour. Even then, my hands move to pull and down a Mana potion and a Healing potion. A wash of green light sees my Health shoot up as one of the healers on our side finally gets around to helping.

�Mikito, you�re in charge.� I�m already forming the Portal to our holding room, ducking inside as I idly cut apart another drone.

No time to hear her answer, but I trust the Samurai has this. Hopefully she�s got the Draugr.

Back in the holding room, I release the Portal and form the next one, barking orders out even as I do so. �The rest of you, we�ve got another Master Classer to kill. Ali, you�re with me.�

�John, do you need help?� Katherine�s voice breaks in as the Portal forms and the Adventurers stream out.

A couple hold back, but I don�t have time to deal with the cowards. Katherine�s worried enough to even show up in video, so I�m treated to seeing my ex-secretary wearing my ex-mecha. Sabre looks good on her and, with all the upgrades, will help keep her alive longer. It pains me a little to have given it away, but at my Level, it�s not that useful.

�Negative. Stay out of it. We�ll handle them,� I say.

Except that�s a bit of a lie. I�m down a third of my Mana and health and we�re only a third of the way done, the softest target down. Unfortunately, since we�ve lost sight of the third Master Class, I can�t pull Katherine�s people off her. I enter the Portal the moment it�s clear then shut it, leaving behind the cowards as the teams set up the next hard point.

We don�t even try hiding�there�s no time and chances are it�d be of no use. There are so many ways for the wary to pick us out, there�s no way we could hide all of us. Especially since they know we�re fighting back. Too bad this area is pure metal or else I�d even throw up some Mud Walls. But I don�t have a Metal Wall spell, so I make do with a couple of portable shield generators then pull out my latest toy.

Silversmith Jeupa VII Anti-Personnel Cannon (Modified & Upgraded)

This quad-barrelled anti-personnel weapon has been handcrafted by Advanced Weaponsmiths to provide the highest integration possible for an energy weapon. This particular weapon has been modified to include additional range-finding and sighting options and upgraded to increase short-term damage output at the cost of long-term durability. Barrels may be fired individually or linked.

Base Damage: 787 per barrel

Battery Capacity: 4 per barrel (16 total)

Recharge Rate: 0.25 per hour per GMU

The entire thing is nearly eight feet long, a pair of stabilizing tripods required to keep the beam rifle working. The moment I have the canon deployed, Ali flies over and patches directly into the weapon�s auto-targeting software, feeding it all the information he can.

�Damn it, that�s my toy,� I say, stepping away and pulling a much smaller and less powerful rifle into my hands.

�Once you can read machine code and tap into the System, you can have it back.�

Snorts of suppressed laughter erupt around me, everyone a little on edge. I ignore it all, watching the little dots in my minimap approach. Since I have the time�and knowing the kind of fight I�m expecting�I trigger all my Shield options, including the one in my ring, before continuing to drain my Mana battery. Constant low-level increases in my health come from healing spells cast on me and the System regeneration, pushing me up to nearly three quarters full.

�Incoming,� Ali�s voice cuts through my thoughts.

A moment later, the pirates turn the corner. A few hasty shots are snapped off, either blocked by shields or swatted aside on both sides.

�Hold your fire.� I don�t blame them�the Shapeshifter is a bit jaw-dropping. This must be its tank form, since the creature is armored in thick, overlapping plates of bone and metal on its six-footed, multi-eyed form. The damn thing looks like a pissed-off ankylosaur, and as it charges, glowing green streaks of light form all around it.

�Hold!�

Muk Muk covers a dozen yards in the time I take to speak. I watch out of the corner of my eyes how the power charges up in Ali�s cannon, how spells and beam weaponry increase in their damage potential. And I weigh the options in my mind.

�Hold!�

Another dozen yards.

�Fire!�

Ali hoots as the anti-personnel cannon throws out green rays of death. Just the ancillary heat from the passing beam is enough to damage my Soul Shield. And the cannon is only the first weapon to fire. It�s joined by dozens of other beam rifles, bullets, railguns, and yes, the occasional enchanted arrow. On top of that, targeted spells fly down range, as well as a few carefully controlled area effect spells. A pair of crouched humans weave a Grasping Hands spell, forming transparent, semi-solid limbs that grab and grip the pirates as they rush past, slowing down the entire group.

Into this storm of death, the pirates� erstwhile leader charges, his green light deflecting a portion of the damage. The rest of the attack break through his Skill and begins to cut through the remainder of his Force Shield defenses before they finally reach the Shapeshifter�s armor. Immediately, the armor glows red from the heat, but rather than melting, it seems to disperse the damage.

Ali�s already on his third charge, the anti-tank cannon never seeming to stop firing, and we�ve barely scratched the Master Class. Sheltered behind Muk Muk, the pirates push forward, only a few unlucky bastards caught in the fire.

Seeing the damn monster continue his charge, the team around me wavers. Rather than let them break, I decide to go for broke. The Aura of Chivalry flows out from me, covering the battleground and drawing the attention of our enemies. The moment my Aura hits the pirates is visible, even the Master Class stumbling in its track. That pause is enough for another group of hands to grab its legs, slowing it down further.

Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

A Paladin�s very presence can quail weak-hearted enemies and bolster the confidence of allies, whether on the battlefield or in court. The Aura of Chivalry is a double-edged sword, however, focusing attention on the Paladin�potentially to their detriment. Increases success rate of Perception checks against Paladin by 10% and reduces stealth and related skills by 10% while active. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.

Note: Aura may be activated or left off at will.

All around me, I feel the group�s resistance firm up while one unlucky or particularly weak-willed pirate actually turns around and runs. I drop my beam rifle back into my inventory and step around the shields, raising my hand and calling forth my sword.

�Time to end this,� I say with a savage smile, swinging my sword down.

All around me, a dozen replica blades appear. The penultimate attack Skill of an Erethran Honor Guard triggers as the blades slice down, forming empowered blade strikes that slice through space and set fire to the very air and the shapeshifter. The monster might have defense and ablative armoring. It might be able to soak up hundreds of points of damage with its armor. But my own Class Skills are a hard counter, Penetration letting me rip through the armor and shielding.

Light fills the corridor, followed by thunder. Smoke from superheated metal and burned flesh hangs heavy in the corridor. As the smoke clears, it�s obvious that not much of the corridor survived my attack.

Below, scraping sounds. I step forward, looking down to see the Master Class staggering back to its feet. My lips pull wide into a grin and I jump down, continuing our dance.

Chapter 3

�You destroyed three floors in that fight of yours!� The captain of the ship, an angular merman waving his flippered hand at me, is rather agitated. So much so that the rebreather apparatus stuck around his scaled gills is struggling to keep up.

�The Shifter was tough,� I say with a shrug.

Even using Army of One, I only managed to lower the creature�s health pool by half. That the attack had also torn apart the upper and lower levels was unfortunate. Since the majority of the pirates had managed to evade the collapse of the floor, I�d left to fight the Shifter on the lower decks while my strike team mopped up the separated pirates. With the anti-personnel cannon and Ali, it was a simple enough job.

Not that dealing with the Master Class was easy. Once he realized he was only fighting me, the son of a bitch had shifted forms to something smaller and faster, basically forcing me into a running battle through the ship corridors. It only ended when word came that all the �normal� pirates had been dealt with, including the Draugr.

Surprisingly, the Master Class Commando didn�t make an appearance until the very end, when the pirates decided to call it a day. Rather than fight and destroy even more of the ship, we called a truce while I escorted the Shapeshifter back to the loading docks. From the cold looks the pair of surviving Master Class pirates shared as they exited through the docking doors, I had a feeling they�d have words on their ship.

�Tough or not, you tore up three floors and had a running battle through another floor. We had to delay for an entire day while my men patched the holes in the hull!� the captain complains. �Why, I should charge you for the damages.�

�And double dip? I�m sure your insurance will pay for it. And if you try to come after me, I�ll make sure everyone knows the kind of person you are. I wonder how many more passengers you�ll get if they know you won�t honor even the basic customs of the Galactic sphere?�

The captain�s lips press thin before he stomps off. I chuckle softly, watching the merman flop away, before I turn to Katherine and Peter, who have been standing quietly to the side.

�Are you okay?� Katherine asks, her eyes roving over my body.

I�d taken the time to change clothing, so outside of some soot and blood, I look the same as always. Mass purchasing for the win!

�Fine.� I grin. �Don�t even have to regrow any limbs this time.�

Katherine cocks an eyebrow. �We saw some of your battle with the Shapeshifter. When the cameras lasted at least. It looked violent.�

�Eh, it wasn�t so bad. He was a tad too fast to get a proper hit on in his agile form, but he was bouncing around too much to get in any real hits on me. Tore up my stuff real good, but it looked bloodier than it was dangerous.�

�Those spinning swords of yours are rather interesting. Though they hampered your movements too,� Peter says, pointing out one issue with my Thousand Blades Skill.

Once created, the swords follow the path of the original, but because I have a tendency to summon and unsummon the original sword, trajectories can get strange. While Intelligence increases don�t necessarily translate to a �smarter� person in the way we think it should, the System seems to pick up on what we�ve done before and grow our abilities in that direction. Mostly. In my case, one of the side effects of my high Intelligence is the ability to recognize, understand, and manipulate the angles of my trailing swords. It still requires practice to do it consistently, since knowing and doing are two different things. Even so, there�s no way I could fight the way I do without the Intelligence increases I�ve had.

It also comes in real handy when playing pool.

�Always a negative with Skills. You just have to figure them out,� I say. �Though, I�ll admit, most are easy. Too high Mana cost.� I look directly at Peter, who grimaces, probably recalling his own ultimate ability, Diplomatic Immunity. Like my Sanctum, it protects against all attacks, but unlike mine, it only works on sentients. �Or a high level of side effects.�

�Well, in either case, the pirates have left. I doubt we�ll face another. It�s bad form to attack a merchant ship more than once on a route. Never mind how unlucky we were to get hit anyway,� Katherine says.

�You know, sometimes the Galactic System reminds me more of a third-world country than a developed nation.� When I get puzzled looks back, I explain. �More corruption, more accepted corruption, than in Canada or the US. Well, surface-level corruption. I mean, pirates? Sects that run roughshod over everyone? And of course, the various empires that fight each other.�

�It�s because of all the empires and other interest groups vying with each other that pirates and their kind exist,� Peter says, correcting me. �A good portion of those pirates are privateers in actual fact. Ships are forced to purchase insurance from multiple kingdoms if they decide to traverse between different principalities, increasing their costs and greasing even more palms. Those that refuse to do so� well, they might find their names discreetly handed over to a privateer. And it goes on, from criminal organizations to sects to corporations and even Guilds. If there�s a way to game the System for their own good, sentients will find it.�

I nod slowly. It�s similar, I guess, to what I�ve been reading. As much as Galactic Society has accepted the fact that the System controls, well, everything, they also push its boundaries all the time. Guilds are meant to be non-political, non-aligned. It�s why they�re allowed to own land in multiple locations without being the actual settlement or land owner. Unlike, say, a kingdom, whose access and ownership of such a location would automatically make it part of their kingdom. To skip around that, they have to rely on individual ownership, which is a dangerous exploit. But there�s nothing to stop a Guild from being staffed with people aligned with one empire or kingdom. And so, rules are bent. Or the way monarchies and their noble classes form, because that way, lines of fealty can be created which both work within the System and also bend its rules.

Speaking of kingdom-owned locations� �Did you work out how setting up the diplomatic mission is going to work?�

�Of course.� Katherine sniffs. �Some of us read our correspondence.�

�You�re not still bitter about that, are you?� I grin. I admit, I had a tendency to avoid reading most of my mail after Katherine hired herself as my secretary. I only ever bothered to read items she highlighted as important and urgent.

Katherine scowls at me before relenting with a wave. �No. It was the right decision actually. Your skills were better used elsewhere.�

�So. The mission?�

�Is relatively simple on the surface,� Peter says. �We arrive at the Prax Solar System, dock at the main station, and transfer down to Irvina using the visas provided to us. Once we�ve provided the visas at the station, our diplomatic status is registered with the Galactic Council. We then have six months to locate a permanent residence in Irvina to set up the mission itself.�

�And you�re able to buy land for Earth?� I say, cocking my head to the side.

�Yes. Unfortunately, the city is huge and the locations we can purchase are limited, so we expect there to be significant issues,� Peter says. �Once we arrive, Katherine will focus on finding us a long-term location while I reach out to our erstwhile allies for help.�

�The Truinnar should be able to help with that, right?� I say.

�You would think so,� Katherine says with a sniff. �But we�re a small ally to them. Even if we�ve managed to do something no other Dungeon World has done, all it means in the Galactic sense is that they�ve got another vote. And a better deal for coming to Earth. For all that, they aren�t bending over backward to help us. At least not on the Empire level. There�s some hope with the Duchess, but we�ll have to see about that in person.�

I nod in acceptance of her words and figure they�ve got it mostly covered. I then take my leave before they drag me in any further. I�ve made my desire to leave, once we actually arrive at Irvina, clear. As Harry noted, Mikito and I have generated quite a bit of animosity with our actions. Being part of the official diplomatic mission would only cause trouble for them. As best as we can, I�d prefer for us to disassociate with the mission and Earth itself as much as possible.

Of course, that�s harder than it seems because Mikito and I are backup security for the mission for now. While Katherine has her own security team, none of them are Master Classes. With the chaos happening on Earth after Bipasha�s assassination, we need the few Master Classes we do have there. Until the Secret Service and their ilk Level up enough, Mikito and I are the closest things to heavy-hitters Katherine has to call upon. So we�re going in under their diplomatic visas, no matter how much I�d prefer not to.

Not that I have much choice anyway. Irvina�and the whole planet of Prax�is a restricted area. Entering their solar system, never mind the capital itself, is heavily restricted due to the sheer number of interested parties. The only other way to do so is with sufficient Galactic Reputation. And for myself, well�

Galactic Reputation: 2

Galactic Fame: 2,308

That Galactic Fame number might seem high, but it mostly all comes from Earth. It�s the sum total of the average fame level I have on Earth in each region, so while it looks high, it�s only on the level of say, an international boy band before the System. Known enough by name, but damned if you could tell the difference between each singer. On a Galactic scale, I�m nothing.

As for my reputation, well, it�s even more pitiful. While I made and completed a ton of deals during the run-up to the vote, when Bipasha was killed and the damn Senator refused to honor some of those deals, I lost a lot of reputation too. That Rob then proceeded to negotiate deals directly with the affected parties to pacify them gave me a new, unpleasant, and personal view of politics.

In any case, even with all that garbage, Galactic Reputation is difficult to generate. Moving the needle on the Galactic level requires a significant level of fame, positions, and deals.

Funnily enough, Mikito�s numbers are much better.

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden (Middle Samurai Level 46)

HP: 1990/1990

MP: 1400/1400

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo

Galactic Reputation: 8

Galactic Fame: 7,783

No surprise her fame is higher than mine. For one thing, she didn�t spend four years stuck in a hellhole of a Forbidden Zone. Even if that act itself is particularly impressive, it�s not particularly useful for increasing my Fame, and since I�m not out for glory, I�ve not been highlighting my little jaunt. Mikito, in my four-year absence, ran around the world doing good deeds, killing monsters, and clearing dungeons galore. Add the fact that she�s managed to gain some Fame in the Galactic Arenas and it�s no surprise she�s ticking higher than I am. Furthermore, without a bunch of bad deals pulling her down, her Reputation is pretty good too. For a newcomer Galactic at least.

�Why are you staring at me?� Mikito asks suspiciously.

�I�m not�� I pause then shake my head. �I�m looking at your Status. You picked up quite a few Levels since I got back.�

Mikito grins. �You�re not the only one who can cheat.�

�Do I want to know?�

�Depends. Are you interested in entering the Arena again?�

�Ah,� I say, shaking my head.

Of course. The experience and gold tithe. And now that the lady is tapping into a Galactic audience, her numbers are creeping up. Add in the numerous dungeons we�ve cleared and the battles we�ve fought for the vote, and well�

Not to be dissuaded, Mikito presses on. �Why were you checking out my Status?�

�Just thinking about our arrival. If we use our visas, we can get in. But that ties us to Earth.�

�We have another option?� Mikito says.

�Not that I can think of.�

�Then don�t worry about it.�

I grunt and head back to my room. She�s right, but I can�t help but think that there�s got to be a better way. Or that opening up Earth to our problems is just asking for trouble.

Days later, the merchant ship finally exits hyperspace and begins the long trip through mundane space to the planet Prax. Technically, we�re actually going to Prax III, the largest and main space station that guards the planet�s orbit. The station is so large, it could be considered a minor moon. Of course, Prax III isn�t the only space station, with smaller stations set up equidistant in the pole positions around the planet. But Prax III is where entrance to Irvina is determined.

Prax III is constructed as a series of interconnected spokes around a cylindrical structure. Ships of differing sizes are housed along each spoke, docking at the stations and off-loading cargo and personnel as necessary. At the largest end are some of the in-system cargo ships, a couple of kilometers in length, while smaller, nimbler personal craft docks closer to the spokes.

As a mid-sized cargo vessel, we dock about a third of the way up one spoke. The rest of the passengers are requested to unload first, so us humans have a nice view of the cargo vessel unloading. Not surprisingly, the vast majority of the work is completed via robots, mostly controlled by a few Technomancer and Loader Classes. It�s a beautiful ballet of movement, with multiple loader arms crawling across the hull of the ship. Unfortunately, what gets moved out are mostly containers, so I find myself bored with the process in minutes.

�What are they off-loading anyway?� I ask Katherine.

�The usual�monster drops, some of the higher-ranked crafted items from Earth, and some of the local delicacies. You probably know that one.� Katherine points at a container that looks like every other. Seeing my puzzled look, the woman smirks. �Yukon gold.�

�Ah, the beer!� I smile. One of my better investments actually.

For that matter, I take a moment to access my notification screens and check out my holdings. While I gave up the settlements, I still have a number of holdings in my name. Of course, most of them are under a management contract with Lana�s investment company in the Yukon, but the random burnt-out buildings, residences, and stores that I purchased to have a good night�s sleep in while traveling amount to a small fortune. Especially now that the towns and cities they�re in aren�t complete wrecks. Well, most of them.

I flick through the long, long list before I locate the information about the Yukon brewing company. As a direct shareholder and as a shareholder of the investment company, I have pretty much full access to their financials. My eyes widen when I see the details.

�How much?� I choke out in bewilderment when I see the gross revenue numbers.

�You finally bothered to check your holdings?� Katherine says with a slight smirk.

�The company�s grown a little,� I say weakly.

�A little. They are really quite thankful you�ve been willing to forego any return on your investments to allow them to continue investing in their production capacity. It seems that the �Dungeon World Brew� has gained quite a following in Galactic markets,� Katherine says teasingly.

�Right. I did say that, didn�t I?� Explains why I�ve never seen a single Credit from that investment.

Hyper intelligence pulls the memory from my mind, a conversation held years ago, when I first gave the money to Lana. I told her to invest any returns, to build up the economy of Whitehorse, to give people jobs and a purpose when they had lost everything. So many years ago that I forgot all about it. It didn�t seem to matter when we were fighting, and then� well. Forbidden Zone. After that, I had another big fight and the vote and it was just never something I thought about.

I guess that makes me a bad Chinese, not caring about Credits at all. My father is probably turning in his grave over the careless way I�ve treated funds. But somewhere along the way, between the apocalypse and the trail of bodies I�ve left behind, material goods have become insignificant. Illusionary even.

A small part of me, a guilty part, wonders if it�s an unconscious way to punish myself. To serve penance. For all the innocents, all the lives, I could never save. For all the ills, all the destruction I failed to stop. A blade will kill a monster, but it cannot heal an injury. My blade could not give solace to those who survived or give direction to their broken lives.

�John?� Katherine�s voice interrupts my gloomy musings.

�Sorry.� I stare at the holding information for a second more before dismissing it. Not much use to me now. Not as if I can contact them to make any changes at the moment, and I don�t really want to. If I die�no, when I die�at least some good will have come of my existence.

So.

What is, is.

�Looks like it�s our turn,� Peter interrupts my musings.

I offer the man a tight smile. Right. Onward and upward.

Are all Customs checkpoints the same? The same individual barriers, the same stern-faced officials who stare at you and their screens, acting as though they can see all your deepest, darkest, most perverted dreams? Sure, the Galactic Customs at Prax has the novelty of Galactics manning the station�meaning that there are numerous alien and fantasy races�but the set up itself is the same.

�John Lee. Redeemer of the Dead. Correct?� the Customs official says.

Staring at the giant, green, bug-eyed creature, I can see myself reflected hundreds of times in its compound eyes. That it can make even marginally understandable sounds from those mandibles is astounding. �Yes.�

�You are attempting to enter Irvina via a secondary diplomatic visa issued to the newly created seat for Earth, correct?�

�Yes.�

�Very well. You understand the limitations and expectations of your visa?� Bug-eye says.

�Not exactly.�

�Then I recommend you read them in detail. However, in short, you are not allowed to vote in local elections. You only have non-citizen rights which means no access to local counsel, legal, and welfare services. You may only access the local dungeons after registering with an appropriate Adventurers Guild and receiving the necessary clearance. Doing so will require you to pay an initial access fee, then a portion of all your earnings will be taxed on the non-citizen tax rate. Breaches of the law will be charged under the secondary provisions for non-citizens, and felony charges will, at the minimum, see the banishment of offenders from Prax system.�

I nod. One of the things that was required for us taking the ship at all was a download of all applicable Galactic and Irvina laws. In truth, once I�d paid for and downloaded the information, I�d felt extremely cheated. Galactic law is somewhat simplistic.

There�s not a lot of it, since issues like public littering, graffiti, and defacement are non-issues due to the System dealing with those minor inconveniences. As for property ownership and retail, well, it�s basically caveat emptor. A lot of the truly scummy predators are kept in check via the Reputation system. So while there�s significant pressure to get the best deal possible, the products themselves are often sold truthfully. Just, perhaps, with a few issues that aren�t mentioned.

The Galactic Council doesn�t bother with issues like local welfare, leaving that to local systems and groups. If there�s one advantage of the System, it�s that it�s hard for your �average� citizen to starve�food, Mana, and basic items are dirt cheap. That being said, hard isn�t impossible. Of course, progressing above what is basic subsistence living is more difficult. Even so, to a human from the twentieth century, the �minimum� standard of living of a Galactic is sci-fi cool.

The vast majority of Galactic law revolves around felonies, specifically violence. Firstly, dueling is not only allowed but recognized. Considering the sheer volume and variety of violent Classes, it�s no surprise that a violent solution to disagreements is acceptable. Since duels have to be acknowledged by both parties via the System, it is possible to turn down duels. Of course, that impacts one�s fame in many cases, unless the degree of fame and reputation between the two parties is significant. After all, a Heroic Class individual isn�t likely going to be bothered by being challenged by a Basic Class Artisan. And a Combat Classer challenging an Artisan of any sort is considered bad form and impacts both reputation and fame.

Outside of duels, murder is considered bad in the wider galaxy. Once you leave Dungeon Worlds, killing others has consequences. While self-defense is a valid defense, like our human systems, there are courts, jail time, and deductions to Reputation outside of specific circumstances. Like, you know, defending against piracy. If a Justicar, Tribunal, or other law enforcer ends up checking on the incident and rules against you, bounties can easily be placed. In such cases, the Justicar or other law enforcer may use a portion of the deceased�s lost goods and Credits as collateral for the bounty. It�s why higher Classed law enforcers are feared. They can even quadruple the bounty on an individual.

Outside of death, very few things are considered major crimes. On-going torture, certain kinds of sexual assault, body, mind, and soul-jacking are on that list. Short-term torture and harassment are considered fineable offenses, not even at the level of a full felony�unless it�s an on-going harassment. And even then, punishment is only applicable if a properly designated law enforcement Class is around to act on it.

Prax law isn�t much better. Oh, there are some details about welfare, training, employment laws, and the like, but it�s mostly useless for someone like me who isn�t a citizen. Caveat emptor covers the vast majority of what I need to know.

�That�s fine. I don�t intend to cause any trouble,� I say.

Bug-eyes stares at me for a second before waving his hand over his screens. A second later, I get a notification informing me that my visa for Irvina has been approved. As I walk out of the customs lounge, I find myself bubbling with excitement.

Soon, very soon, I�ll get to see my first real alien city.

Chapter 4

We travel down to Irvina via a beanstalk lift large enough to fit a couple of tour buses in it lengthwise. As we drop down through the bountiful clouds that cover the city, I�m grateful that the planet itself is close to Earth standard. About seven percent heavier, from what I recall, with a single sun like Earth and a sky that shades everything to a darker blue. Perhaps the biggest change is the massive moon that dominates the night and sometimes daytime sky. It�s a bit of a shock, but Prax is a dry planet, with a series of smaller landlocked seas rather than our ocean-ridden planet.

Once we break through the clouds, the megacity of Irvina spreads out beneath us. The end of the beanstalk comes down near the center of the city, and the city stretches for untold kilometers on all sides. The city itself is strange, with lots of greenery and small squat buildings in the center before being bordered by giant skyscrapers that remind me of downtown Vancouver or New York. Those skyscrapers are so tall that they throw the streets into deep shadow. Walkways connect the silver-tinted buildings while gravtrains carry passengers around. In some ways, the city reminds me of a ball sitting in the middle of a spread silk scarf, a bowl of buildings ringing a single central hall and the stem of the beanstalk. Small moving dots that traverse the open air slowly resolve into flying cars and animals, moving with ordered precision along clearly marked air routes.

It�s one part Fifth Element, one part Shadowrun, and one part medieval fantasy world. All that�s missing is a steampunk blimp and we�d have a real hotpot of fantasy elements. In fact, as we get closer, I realize that there are even flying figures interspersed among the flying vehicles and creatures. The flying individuals are as varied in their modes of transportation as everything else, some sporting wings, others glowing with telekinetic power or a Skill, and of course, the usual array of weird tech.

�Do you think Earth will be like that one day?� Mikito says, gazing at the bustling metropolis with wide eyes.

�Nah. A bunch of harpies or drakes would eat them all,� I say, pointing around. �Most Dungeon World cities try to keep flight to a minimum. Too many flying things with major territorial issues.�

Mikito makes a face but ends up nodding. Harry�s head swivels slowly while he holds up a hand as if he�s recording with that hand too. He�s not the only reporter doing so. The entire group is busy recording images for their next segment. Some are using Skills, others bobbing tech cameras, and a few even hold up crystals. Next to me, Katherine is muttering to Peter, pointing out various landmarks. I overhear a little.

�That�s the diplomatic district ringing the main hall, borders the river on that side, and if you follow the river down, it sweeps up to meet the main road. I�ll highlight it for you,� Peter says to Katherine.

I listen in a little more as they discuss buildings and places, but I get bored fast. It doesn�t help that I can�t see what they�re seeing in their notifications. Or the fact that I�ve never felt a desire to buy real estate. By the time I had enough, the Vancouver real estate market was well beyond my reach. And then, well, I moved up to Whitehorse and things went to hell. I guess I am a landowner now, but that�s just because safe zones are important.

�Where�s the library?�

�Highlighting now. You sure you want to go do something so damn boring?� Ali complains even as he lights up the library.

It�s a huge building, even in comparison to the skyscrapers. It�s a blocky rectangle without windows but a lot of designs along the edges, giving it a bit of a gothic look. Of course, the gargoyles littering the building are strange and scary, parodies of monsters and nightmares. And, on closer inspection, a few of those gargoyles seem to be lighting up in my Status window.

�I came all the way here to get some answers, no?� I smile grimly.

All that time on a Forbidden Zone planet has taught me a few things about the System Quest. For one thing, Mana is integral to the entire thing�it�s the source, the fuel for the System. But it isn�t the System, which is another thing itself. A set of rules, a set of regulations, an overarching Big Brother that manipulates and evolves us at its whim. The System is a mystery, even when it is everything for those of us in the System.

�You and a billion other Questors,� Ali grumbles, arms crossed. �If you end up spending more than a decade in that library, I�m killing the Contract no matter what kind of penalties I have to endure. Got it, boy-o?�

�Loud and clear.� I hide my smile, remembering how vehement Ali was against the entire thing on the second day. I guess we�ve all changed.

The rest of the trip down was quiet enough. Katherine arranged accommodations for all of us, and rather than attempt to find a place myself, I�ve gone ahead with it. At least in the short term, this plush hotel is more than adequate. It does say something about Galactic society that among the amenities offered is a fighting arena and personal combat trainers.

I look around the suite we�ve been given. It�s a little extravagant�a separate living room, a set of three bedrooms, and even a mini-kitchen.

�Who�d you bribe to bunk with us?� I ask Harry as he comes out of his own room.

Mikito�s taking her time in her own room, depositing a host of personal items. I don�t bother since my Altered Space is more than large enough. Not as if I�m carrying monster parts right now.

�Katherine. I pointed out that if I�m following you around, I won�t be following her,� Harry says unashamedly. �So. What�s our plan?�

�I�m going to look around the city.� I glance at Mikito who walks out of her room, running a hand through her short hair. �You�re welcome to join.�

�Of course. Always good to know the layout,� Mikito says.

�That�s settled then. Ali, I�ll want you to be perusing the System for places to rent,� I say, rubbing my chin. �If we�re here for a bit, I don�t want to stay here longer than necessary.�

�Sure. I�ll go look for a derelict house.�

�Funny,� I say before pausing. �Exactly how much are we looking at anyway?�

�Buy or rent?�

After a moment�s hesitation, I say, �Buy.� Might as well get a feel for the place.

�Two-bedroom place in a respectable neighborhood�say in the third ring�we�re looking at just over eighteen million Credits,� Ali says.

�What?� My voice goes up a couple of notches. �I could buy a damn settlement on Earth for that!�

�It�s Irvina. Largest populated Galactic city, longest-running capital. Most of the land here�s owned by corporations, guilds, and the elder families,� Ali says, shaking his head. �If it wasn�t for the fact that the Council set a limit on how much property each corporation can own based off its size and revenue, there�d be nothing for anyone.�

I guess that makes sense. Even in our world, the problem of corporations growing larger and larger, becoming too big to fail, is a regular occurrence. �Why would the corporations and guilds let them do that?�

�Do what?� Ali says then answers his own question. �You mean put the regulations in place?� When I nod, he snorts. �As if anyone�s telling the Inner Council what not to do.� As we stare at Ali, he sighs. �The Inner Council�s made up of nine council members, at least five of whom are Legendary Classes. The others are representatives of the major empires and factions. They�re the real rulers, but luckily, they try to do as little work as possible.

�As for the main Galactic Council, they�re the ones who make the big decisions like the System expansion and Dungeon Worlds. They also try to set up new laws, deal with inter Empire and Faction disputes, and organize expeditions. Also, whine. Really, they mostly whine a lot.�

I guess it does make sense that even if you have corporations and guilds with members in the millions, a single Legendary Class can make a huge difference. It�s not just the fact that they�re individually incredibly powerful. It�s also the numerous allies and debts owed to them. Add on the fact that it�s really, really hard to lock down even Master Classes in a fight, and you can understand why Legendary Classes are so powerful, they can take out entire planets by themselves. Add Heroic or higher level fleeing Skills, and well, how are you going to deal with them? From what I understand, few Legendary Classes fall to anything but the Forbidden Zone or another Legendary. Even if the guild or corporation has a Legendary of their own, it�s not as if that�s going to stop the destruction.

�All right. So buying is out,� I say, diverting the topic. Not as if I�ve got that many Credits on me. Even if I sold everything I own, including my investments, I�d probably fall short.

�Pretty much. You�ll want to consider renting on the third or fourth ring,� Ali says.

He waves, and a map of the city blooms before all of us. A quick adjustment and the �rings� that radiate from the Galactic Hall are highlighted. The first ring is the smallest by far, consisting of an area barely larger than downtown Vancouver�a couple of kilometers across at best. Each subsequent ring grows wider, with drops in security, cost, and amenities. These rings are mostly created from differences in architecture and System-enabled features, making them difficult to pick out by naked eye.

�And these are the dungeons?� Mikito says, tapping a gate symbol.

A moment later, the map highlights all the gate symbols�one gigantic, three large, and another nine smaller gates appear across the map. The gates themselves start at the third ring, which hosts the gigantic gate symbol and radiate outward, with the smallest gate symbols on the eighth�and last�ring.

�Yup. It�s why I�d recommend the third or fourth ring,� Ali says. �Adventurers and their guilds all congregate around the Prime Dungeon. Not surprisingly, a lot of accommodation there caters to you guys too. There are even rest houses with their own internal butchering yards and repair stations.�

�Got it.� I shrug. �Well, I guess we should start at the smallest ring and go out for our trip today.�

There�s a long silence, punctuated by Harry turning to Mikito and saying, �Is he serious?�

�Yes. John�s not very good at reading the rules.� Mikito�s lips twitch slightly.

�What?� I say, irritated.

�The first ring is restricted so that even citizens of Irvina are not allowed in. The second ring is restricted to those with high Reputation and diplomatic statuses,� Ali says. �The third ring is limited to Adventurers and their ilk of sufficient standing. Since you came in on a secondary diplomatic visa, that�s where you can start. If not for your current standing, you wouldn�t even be allowed in this hotel.�

�Oh.� I pause then decide to ask the question anyway. �And I�m assuming all that was in the document they sent us?�

�Yes,� Harry says, disappointment tingeing his voice.

�What�s with that tone?� I growl.

�Just sad when you learn your heroes have lead feet too,� Harry says.

�Hero�� I sit there, stunned, while Harry stands.

His actions pull the entire group to the door. Shaking my head, I move to catch up with them, calling after them even as they ignore me.

�Hey! What do you mean by that?�

I never do get my answer, but it doesn�t matter. Once we leave our hotel, the only public transportation we can access sends us directly from the second ring into the third. Only then does it click how annoying staying at that hotel will be for some of us. Of course, the vast majority of the people on Katherine�s visa don�t care. Whether it�s setting up new business networks or talking to other diplomatic groups, they�re going to be working closely with the lady. It�s only a major issue to those of us who borrowed the visas for our own selfish ends.

High-rise buildings or not, the second ring at least has some greenery. By the time we hit the third ring, the buildings crowd around one another, leaving little space for anything but air. Only a few major roads run through the city itself, and many of those roads are covered by walkways or buildings that run over them.

�What�s the ground like?� I ask Ali. While I can get occasional glimpses, it�s too dark to make out anything.

�Varies a lot. From the dungeons to the main guilds, auction hall, and merchants� quarter, it�s clear of everything but traffic. No one wants to drag a manticore body through a street crowded with beggars and impromptu food stalls. Outside of those areas, the streets get clogged up with enterprising merchants and your usual vagrants,� says Ali. �There�re a few parts, mostly in the fifth ring onward, which have been taken over by nocturnal and other dark-loving sentients. Bottom couple of floors are filled with low-rent shops normally, then you get more expensive�but still affordable�accommodation with the cheapest residence areas in the twentieth or so floors and above before you hit the connected floors.

�Anything low means you can and will use the public transportation on the ground. Or just, you know, run. Accommodation in the middle has the worst of both worlds�not connected to the gravtrain tubes but not in easy reach of the ground either. Even with hypertubes to move people around, you�re still stuck waiting a lot. Add in vampires, driders, and other dark-loving sentients and well, you have a portion that�s set-up in near permanent darkness.�

�Right. So leave the ground alone unless necessary,� I say.

The group falls silent as the little bubble car we�re in floats along the grav tracks, swinging along the sides of buildings, swooping up and down and missing other cars and busses by inches at times. The first few times it happens, I brace for impact, but soon enough I stop worrying about the matter and just enjoy the ride. I took a look at the schematic details of the grav tracks and the bullet trains and individualized bubble cars when we arrived, and I have to admit, I�m completely lost. I can tell there�s a lot of gravity and electromagnetic forces in play, but the how and why eludes me. There�s a high chance a chunk of that is because much of this was built by Skills.

�Small windows,� Mikito says, pointing at a series of tiny windows no taller than a pair of fingers put together. The sheer number along the side of the building is quite amazing.

�Ah, enclave of smalls. Not everyone wants to live in small town. And because of the way architecture works, these are cheaper,� Ali says. When I raise an eyebrow, the Spirit sighs. �Right. Most Galactic cities have a few parts that are meant for non-standard humanoid races. How many and what size varies, but you�ve got small town, big town, semis, quadpedals, and noxes.

�Small town is where the tiny sentients live. You know the kind�sentient mice, sprites, and fairies, that kind of thing. Bigs are the giants and their kind, of course. Semis are the semi-corporeals who range from sentient elementals to ghosts and some types of spirits. Quad-pedals include any of those with non-standard bipedal figures, while noxes are non-oxygen breathers.�

�How come we�ve not met many of them?� Harry says.

�Why would you?� Ali says, shaking his head. �Outside of the giants, who took over the Alps, most bigs can�t fit into your standard dungeon configuration. Smalls can, but they struggle against standard monsters until they hit Advanced Classes. They�ve also got their own culture, including planets and the like. Semi-corporeals did turn up, but they�re hanging out in places you guys don�t care for. The middle of volcanoes, the deep ocean, the Mojave Desert, so on and so forth. As for noxes, well, you saw some. Hell, the captain who brought us in was one. But most prefer to stick to their own Dungeon Worlds or home worlds. Not a lot of fun choking to death because your respirator died.�

Well, that makes some sense. Environmental factors might be of less concern once you head up in Levels, but that doesn�t mean that we�re comfortable in weird environments. It�s like the various dungeons I�ve heard of that sit in the middle of some space lanes. They�re just a lot less appealing to a ground-pounder like me. Still, if I ever get bored, running a dungeon while suited in a full-on spaceship mecha sounds kind of cool.

The next few hours has us watching the scenery pass us by. Soon enough, everyone grows a little too bored. You only view so many similar alien buildings before you�re done, even if Ali does his best to point out the major landmarks and pepper his discussion with informative little tidbits. Rather than continue on the same old same old, Ali guides us to the merchant district. At that point, we split off, since everyone has their own little shop to visit. Harry hits the Shop sphere while Mikito decides to do some window shopping in the physical shops. As for myself�

�There�s a branch office?� I say, my eyebrow rising.

�Of course. It�s Irvina. Where else would they have a physical shop if not here?� Ali says, waving me on. �It�s been ages since I�ve visited it. But prices will be a little lower.�

�Fine. I�m coming.� I take off after him, the pair of us strolling through the cavernous innards of the building.

Pedestrian walkways, crawl ways, and roadways run alongside one another. Everyone�s mostly following the laid-out routes, the occasional oblivious or arrogant rulebreaker receiving a violent reminder of why the rules are in place. It�s kind of amusing how people just move around the burgeoning fights and occasional accidents with barely a glance.

Violence is, at worst, a fineable offense. After all, when everyone heals from broken bones and cuts within ten minutes, there�s little concern about such acts. It does lead to certain circumstances of bullying, but it seems a Galactic norm to ignore all but the most egregious events. It�s why guilds, associations, sects, and corporations are so popular�always good to have someone looking out for you.

By the time I make my way to the shop, I�ve had to break one set of legs and throw up my Aura to scare off the idiots. The shop itself is a simple affair�yellow trimmings on the outside with large double doors that are keyed to one�s Status. I step forward and the doors slide open, allowing me in.

Once inside, I find myself in a beautiful yellow room with a simple counter to greet guests, a waiting and lounging area for those wanting to take their time perusing their wares, and a couple of doors. The layout is a copy of their main offices, so I know from previous experience that those doors lead to private rooms where a customer can browse the wares themselves.

The moment I enter, a svelte young thing comes up to me, all willowy form and transparent dress. That what she exhibits beneath the dress involve dozens of small mouths with hundreds of tiny teeth kind of mutes any allure the angular-faced, slit-eyed attendant might have.

�Redeemer Lee. It is a pleasure to meet you.� The attendant bows, one hand over her right chest. �I am K�Senia Maroo. What may I do for you, Redeemer?�

�Got a bunch of things to sell,� I say.

K�Senia nods and waves toward a private room. I follow the lady, idly eyeing the area. I kind of miss having actual physical products to browse, but considering the size of the room we�re in, I�m assuming they just deliver it from whatever warehouse they use. Once inside, a gesture is all I need to dump my gathered items onto the floor. Loot from pirate corpses and their used gear makes up the majority of my merchandise this time around.

�Ah, I see you�ve had a busy trip,� K�Senia says. �Do you intend to continue traveling without insurance?�

�Not really.�

�A pity. I won�t inform our proxies to be ready for more such material then,� K�Senia says, deftly moving the loot around to sort and price everything.

�There�re people who do that regularly?� I say.

�Of course. It�s quite a popular pastime among certain Master Classes. And nearly all Heroics. Of course, most pirates leave Heroic Classes alone. Even a Heroic-level Artisan is a danger, especially when one considers most have significant influence in the galaxy,� K�Senia says. �The optimal time for such activity is around Level 20 to 40 for combat Master Classes.�

�I�ll keep that in mind.�

K�Senia finishes up with her work and sweeps everything into her storage before asking to be excused while she deposits everything away properly. I nod and turn back to my notification screens, restocking my usual assortment of grenades and disposable weaponry. It�s frustrating how expensive everything keeps getting as I go up in Levels.

I hold up one of the many things I have to repurchase and glare at the rather expensive toy.

High Explosive Grenade (Tier II)

Hand-crafted from mithril and oxmallium alloys, the HEG II is a mainstay of Advanced and Master Class Adventurers, able to clear large numbers of low Level creatures.

Base Damage: 287

Area of effect: 5 meters radius

Cost: 1250 Credits

I have to buy a dozen of these just to be safe, not to mention buying incendiary grenades, flash grenades, Chaos grenades, and even portable shield generators. Sure, the effect is amazing and everything has to be handmade at these levels to do the kind of damage we�re looking for, but it�s still a ton of funds. And still not as good as a single strike from my sword. But it�s an area effect attack that throws up a ton of fire and smoke, which is useful.

It�s one of the major differences between the real Erethran Honor Guard and me. I�m a lone fighter, without the resources and funds that back the entire army. They can afford to purchase handcrafted mecha and repair them when they�re inevitably damaged. If I tried the same, I�d be even poorer than I am right now. As much as I�d love to equip myself with the latest tech, it�s not viable.

�Redeemer Lee, it seems we have an item awaiting your pickup,� K�Senia says when she comes back. �Would you like to take ownership of it now?�

�Of course.�

A moment later, K�Senia has twitched her hands and handed the knives to me. I blink at my old friends now firmly etched with runes and reinforced with stronger metals. Rough edges have been worked out, along with numerous minor adjustments. I pull out one, staring at the item�s new status with awe.

Enchanted, Reinforced Toothy Throwing Knives (5)

First handcrafted from the rare drop of a Level 140 Awakened Beast by the Redeemer of the Dead, John Lee, these knives have been further processed by the Master Craftsmen I-24-988L and reinforced with orichalcum and fey-steel. The final blades have been further enchanted with Mana and a piercing Skill, as well as a return enchantment.

Base Damage: 238

Enchantments: Return, Mana Blade (+28 Damage), Pierce (-7% defense)

�Very nice,� I say.

As I look around, K�Senia cannot help but smile a little and point down the room to the farthest corner. �Feel free to test out your knives. These rooms are rated to withstand even Tier I attacks.�

I nod in thanks, pulling the knives from their sheaths and reviewing each weapon. There are minor differences in the base damage�probably due to various defects in the way I first crafted the knives. More importantly, the enchantments make these weapons deadlier than ever. These do nearly double the damage of my soulblade when I first received it. I could easily one-shot any low-level monster with these.

Once I�ve verified everything, I look at the simple baldric that�s been enchanted as well, providing the return enchantment a focus. With a shrug, I toss the knives underhand at the far wall.

There�s nothing special when I do�no explosions, flashing lights, or swell of music. The knives fly out of my hand with a smoothness that seems all too familiar, grouping themselves within millimeters of one another and sinking in nearly all the way to the hilt. K�Senia raises an eyebrow, appearing somewhat impressed.

Me? I�m more impressed when the knives flicker and suddenly reappear, one after the other, in the enchanted baldric. I test the weapons again, tossing them one after the other and counting off till they return. Just under three seconds.

�Hey, Ali, these won�t randomly return if I throw them really far away, will they?�

�Maybe? Depends on how far. The runes have two triggers�time after impact and time after reaching throwing speeds. You can also forcefully return them by touching that rune.� Ali highlights a rune on the baldric for me. �Push your Mana into it and boom. Knives back in sheaths.�

�Thanks.� I make mental note about that and the potential problems the enchantment might have.

These are a nice addition to my attacks, one that doesn�t require me to use my sword. The biggest advantage of these weapons is that they give me a ranged option that isn�t Mana intensive or as flashy as my Blade Strike.

I slip on the baldric before turning to K�Senia and pointing at the skill I was browsing while she was gone�Galactic Body Language. �So��

�I see you�ve begun to face issues,� K�Senia says. �I�m surprised this was not recommended to you earlier.�

�Yeah, about that. I don�t get why I was able to read most of the Galactics on Earth perfectly well, but now I�m getting conflicting feelings. It�s rather frustrating when you Galactics go from happy to sad to outraged. At least, from your body language.�

�Skill translation,� K�Senia says. �You understand that the skills you purchase, language and otherwise, often are derived from individuals? Or in the System�s case, a large number of said individuals?�

�I got that.�

�Then you should be cognizant that such information comes with behavioral and body language knowledge as well. To make proper use of the correct body language, the System has to overwrite specific portions of one�s body,� K�Senia says. �In so doing, the original host�s tics are overlaid.�

�Wait. You�re saying that because they learnt English from the System, they also got the body language from the individual the skill was taken from originally?� At her nod, I slowly rub my chin. �So when they spoke English, they were showcasing mostly human body language. Which is why I had no issue reading them.� Except for one particular Truinnar. But I was never sure if that was because of his skills or because the man always set me on edge. In a good way. Mostly.

�Exactly. But most of us learn to speak Galactic while growing up. As such, there is no �natural� body language to acquire, and so the Galactics you�ve met are all exhibiting their �natural� body language,� K�Senia says. �Most of us learn to read the major races quickly enough. Merchants like me then purchase ranks in the skill you are looking at. And in some cases, diplomats and others have Skills to ensure their meaning comes across, no matter which race it is.

�You, on the other hand, are relying on your human understanding of body language and movements. While some of that will, slowly, disappear, in the short term, you will be faced with significant misunderstandings.�

I exhale, shaking my head, and swipe the skill over to my buy pile. Thinking about it, I chat with K�Senia about what else I should get. Soon enough, we�ve added a bunch of �generic� knowledge to the pile that I hadn�t bothered purchasing or which Foxy, my normal attendant, had not recommended. Eyeing the large list and recalling the way the System likes to dump information directly into our bodies, I confirm the purchases for now. I�ve got dozens of other skills I want to purchase but taking this in batches is probably for the best. Even then, I�m sure not all of it will �settle� immediately.

Information floods into my mind and my eyes widen, flicking from side to side as my brain rushes to capture the information. My boosted Intelligence gets to work grabbing and sorting the flood of information, settling my mind down even as my body processes a series of micro-impulses.

Once that�s done, I highlight a few new low-level spells. Mostly I add on to my control spells, layering some ice, metal, and air to the mud and fire walls I already have. I briefly consider adding a healing spell but discard it, happy enough with the one I have. Truth be told, my Mana is limited. Once again, I confirm the information and feel the rush as spell knowledge floods my mind.

It�s painful to see more of my precious Credits flowing out, especially since my savings is limited. Unless I run more dungeons, what I have is what I have. Deciding against spending any more for now, I take a quick look at my Status Screen before heading back to the hotel.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer

Health

3520

Stamina

3520

Mana

3330

Mana Regeneration

273 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

238

Agility

318

Constitution

352

Perception

178

Intelligence

333

Willpower

358

Charisma

116

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Analyze*

Harden*

Quantum Lock*

Elastic Skin*

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Elemental Storm (Fire, Ice, Lightning)

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

When we get back that night, we have a very short discussion about plans for the next day before we crash, our first day in an alien world somewhat underwhelming. No gun fights, no major altercations. Just a lot of sight-seeing and a little shopping.

Chapter 5

�Are you a member, an applicant, or a browser?� the weedy old man with a tuft of hair sticking out of his gigantic ears asks me.

I stare at the weird gnome-like fellow, eyeing his suspenders for a moment before I answer. �Applicant please.�

The Questors� hall is in the fifth ring, which was a bit strange to me at first glance. Only when Ali pointed out that not only do the Questors require a significant amount of space to store all their collected knowledge but also have little to steal did it make sense. Then add the fact that everyone knows Questors don�t have much in the way of Credits and have the backing of some truly powerful folk. It�s kind of like libraries on pre-System Earth. Sure, you could steal the books, and some people did, but was it worth it? Mostly, not so much. Add that together and the building, as a whole, was left alone by local troublemakers. The halls� visitors aren�t so fortunate, but localized teleportation nodes and a direct transportation stop for the gravline keeps most of the crime down.

Not that assaulting and stealing is considered more than a minor, fineable offense. Damnable Galactic law.

�Very well.� When the silence grows between us, the attendant finally rolls his eyes. �Show me your System Quest notification. How else am I to verify your suitability?�

�Oh! Sorry,� I say, flushing slightly. Of course that would be the easiest way to get this done. Still, I�m a little irritated. It�s not as if he gave any indication.

While my embarrassment turns to anger, Ali makes my quest notification appear before my eyes before sharing the information with the attendant.

System Quest (On-Going)

Learn what the System is about, its applications, methods, and origins. Knowledge of the System will give you strength. True knowledge of the System will provide something even greater than strength.

Reward: Variable and progressive

Status: 23%

�What the hell. That isn�t what it was before!�

�Well, you want in, right? I figured changing the Quest wording back to its original would be better,� Ali sends to me.

I mentally sigh. The Spirit used to change all my notifications and withhold knowledge �for my good,� but we had that talk ages ago. But in this case, I just never bothered to open the Quest screen again. There wasn�t a point. The updates on progress were sufficient for me. And while I might never tell Ali this, I kind of like his original wording better.

�Twenty-three percent. Quite respectable for a Questor who has only been on the path for less than a decade,� the gnome says, becoming friendlier. �It�s always a pleasure to meet a fellow Questor. You may call me Ric.�

�John Lee, Ric.� I offer him my hand. Ric stares at my hand before clasping it on the outer edge and turning my arm upward. I blink, but Ric seems to consider his actions perfectly normal. �I was wondering, what is the normal percentage?�

�For a Questor or the general public?�

�Both.�

�For most, their completion rates sit between five and fifteen percent, depending on age and circumstance. To be considered a Questor and receive acknowledgement among our ranks though, a minimum completion rate of twenty percent is required,� Ric says. �That number is impossible to achieve without dedicated research.�

�Thank you. So as a member, is there�?�

�Oh, how forgetful. One second.� Ric waves his hand over me then toward his notification screen.

A moment later, I get a new notification.

Congratulations! You have gained membership with the elite order of System Questors.

Reputation +2 Galactic Reputation

Fame + 2000

Title Gained: Apprentice Questor

Renowned through the Galactic System, Questors search for the ultimate truth endlessly and fruitlessly. Perhaps, one day, they will learn the meaning of life. In the meantime, they continue their never-ending quest.

Effect: Gain +10% more experience from System Quest completion rates

�That�s useful,� I say, glancing at the Reputation increase. Getting Galactic reputation up is hard, since it mostly derives from Galactic-level Contracts or makes its way up from a bunch of local reputation points. Even if the Questors might be laughed at behind their backs, they�re still a Galactic organization. �And the benefits?�

�Access to all Questor chapter houses. Access to our library of knowledge.�

�Full access?�

�Of course,� Ric says with a sniff. �What is the use of information that is locked away? Our goal is the betterment and progress of the Quest.�

�Sorry.� I pause before asking the question that has puzzled me. �What�s the highest completion rate right now?�

�That would be Grandmaster K,� Ric says. �He�s at eighty-seven percent.�

My jaw drops while even Ali whistles.

The Spirit asks the next, obvious, question. �So how come he hasn�t written the encyclopedia of what he knows? If he did that, everyone would be at the same level.�

�He did. And the results varied greatly,� Ric says, shaking his head with a frustrated expression. �It seems that the only way to build your completion rate and come closer to the truth of the System is to understand and learn matters slowly. Even if the information is all provided, without a good grounding, it seems impossible for one to achieve the same heights.�

�Oh, like learning math,� I say. It�d be like showing someone Einstein�s theory of relativity, e = mc2. Sure, it looks simple and everyone understands what it says, but they don�t necessarily understand what it means or the proof behind it. Not unless they�d built the necessary knowledge beforehand. Though come to think of it, wasn�t the entire thing physics more than math? But you proved it via math. And engineering.

�Yes, exactly! Once one has proven or understood the basic hypotheses and theories, then you can climb higher. It is hoped that more of the younger generation will join us in the search,� Ric says. �Sadly, our work is dangerous, and too many promising youngsters fall too early.�

�Dangerous?� I say, cocking my head. Thus far, I would call what I�ve done to get my twenty percent the opposite of dangerous.

�Extremely so. Just last week we lost Ium, a promising scholar, while he was attempting to disprove Waslter Kababa�s theory of Mana flow and health regeneration. It seemed one of the monsters achieved a higher, unexpected rate of regeneration and bit off Ium�s leg, hampering his escape from the dungeon.�

�That�s a whole new kind of field work,� I say neutrally.

�Well, it matters not. At your stage, you should stick to the recommended leading list for now.� Ric points behind him. �Go ahead then, young scholar. Do us proud!�

�And bore me to death,� Ali complains as we leave.

Ric ignores Ali, an act for which I�m grateful enough.

The library itself is a bit, well, underwhelming. Don�t get me wrong, there are miles upon miles of books stretching in all directions. The building has an open-air central column that allows those with flight abilities to travel with ease. Yet the total number of Questors within is small. I catch a glimpse of three people, and my minimap doesn�t show many more. In the end, I walk ahead and touch the simple steel stand with my hand, allowing it to access my interface. A navigation menu blooms then flickers as Ali communicates with the system for me.

Completed reading list received

Quest updates received

Recommended reading list created. Map of book locations created.

A small map of the library flashes before my eyes, books highlighted. A large number are placed close to one another in front of me, but a number are scattered through the map in somewhat random locations. It only takes a few seconds to work out why. The cluster of books are the recommended reading materials, most of which I�ve already purchased. The rest are the books that detail random things I�ve either learned or considered and tested. Those are the areas where I�ve progressed above the �standard� level of a Questor.

�What�s with the physical books anyway?� I ask.

�Copyright laws,� Ali says. �The Questors have the rights to the works that stay in the library, but if someone wants to purchase them otherwise, they�d need to go through the Shop. Keeps the Credits flowing.�

�And piracy?� I ask. Not that I intend to do so, what with standing in the middle of a giant library, but I�m curious.

Piracy of books and media was a major thing back on Earth before the System, what with the ease of access. Of course, everyone had their own excuses as to why it was acceptable, why they �had� to do it�inconvenience, difficulty in access, lack of funds, how it was a �victimless� crime. Hell, I�d done it too. But truth was, any excuse was just a lie to excuse our poor morality. Piracy was easy, because we didn�t think we�d get caught and we didn�t know who we were stealing from.

�Possible. It happens for sure. But few people do it in large quantities,� Ali says. �A lot of these writers and publishers pay into the Copyright Bounty System. The CBS scans the System for broken copyrights and then adds the number and quantity to their bulletin, with the appropriate bounty. Bounty hunters stay connected to the Galactic bounty network, and well, it�s often nice and easy money if they run into someone with a high enough bounty.

�There�re even a few bounty hunters who spend all their free time running down people like that. They call the work relaxing. Seems like your average copyright pirate is a nice change from their normal marks. After all, the serfdom or Credit fine isn�t worth the penalty of killing a bounty hunter.�

�Huh,� I say, rubbing my nose. The System would make something like that a lot easier. �What happens when they get caught?�

�Credit liens, fines, serfdom, the usual,� Ali says. �All tracked through the System.�

�Gotcha.� Makes sense. I make further note not to break the law. Though� �What about all that human TV you watch? Isn�t that copyrighted?�

�Pre-System,� Ali says with a sniff. �Doesn�t count.�

I sigh, shaking my head. Of course it doesn�t count. It�s not as if the System is meant to be fair. I push that thought aside, deciding it�s not my problem. Not right now. My problem is figuring out what to read first. After a time, I make my decision and head away from the cluster.

�You know, jumping ahead isn�t always a good idea,� Ali says as he floats alongside me.

�Whatever. I want to see how their recommendation engine works. And how good it is.�

The walk through the stacks is serene, the atmosphere only slightly oppressive�like all libraries. At least there�s no grey-haired harridan in a moldy wool sweater staring at me over thick lenses and scolding me when I make more noise than a mouse.

Hours later, I�m seated in one of the Questors� comfortable chairs, legs up and yawning slightly. Next to me are the books I�ve taken out and skimmed through for their details, providing me an understanding of the way the referencing software works.

Basically, most of the works recommended to me that aren�t part of the basic reading list are what can be considered the next best thing to read after I�ve achieved a certain upgrade in my Quest. The tricky thing is, much of my success with the more advanced areas of the System Quest has been via fortuitous encounters. Like watching a dragon sleep, drawing in Mana. Or being dumped into a Forbidden Zone.

As such, my understanding of the reasoning behind the System and the way the System works is not necessarily detailed, just experiential. Which means that sometimes, the recommended books are too complex. In some cases, it�s because the books are written by those who have come to the same understanding via experiments. In other cases, the books are written as a description of another individual�s experience. In such cases, those experiential books are supposed to trigger quest updates for the next portion, rather than explain the point of those updates.

�This� is going to be complicated,� I say, staring at the pile of work.

I can�t exactly rely on the recommendations. And yet there�s no point in sticking to the normal reading list either. I want�I need more of an understanding of the deeper intricacies of the System. If following the normal reading list was effective, then there would be more Questors with higher completion rates. Finding a balance between the two seems to be my big struggle for the next few weeks.

�You know, laughing by yourself like that makes you look rather insane,� Ali points out as I break out chuckling to myself. �I mean, research makes me crack, but you�ve only been at it for, like, five hours.�

�Nah, it�s not the work.� I chuckle again. �It�s the idea that figuring out my best research method is going to be the big struggle of my life for the next little while. It�s� nice.�

�Boring!�

His opinion makes me chuckle further as I pull a chocolate from my inventory and get back to reading. Boring it is. I could do with boring.

�As can be seen from control group three, it is clear that Elemental Affinities are the most �base� form of powers. The individuals who have Elemental Affinities have been gifted powers to wield forces directly, without the intervention of the System itself. As experiments in both the Forbidden Zone and outside System-activated locations have shown, there is no loss of Elemental Affinity abilities in both locations.

This result would further explain the Technocrats� obsession with such individuals and known criminal kidnapping, experimentation, and enslavement. Their actions in the Second Elemental War have resulted in the reduction of individuals with this power in the general sphere and the introduction of Spirits, Elementals, and other contracted eternal powers. (See Rum & Kol�s Treatise on the Second Elemental War for further discussion).�

I pause for a second, putting a finger on the book, and look up. I stare at the floating Spirit. Ali never speaks about his past. About why he has a Contract with the System directly, or what that means. Of who, or what, he actually is. I know what he looks like, what he says, is drawn in many ways from my mind. Formed, as he said, when our Contract was formed. But it says nothing about what the man is. There are depths to the tiny Spirit that have yet to be explored.

When Ali looks up, a frown on his goateed face, I flash him a tight frown before turning back to my book. For now, all I need to know is that he�s a friend.

�For our purposes, it is sufficient to understand that Elemental Affinities are the base. Spells are pre-System attempts at achieving the same affinities by those without the gift. Spells must use Mana as their catalyst in an attempt to replicate the actual functions an individual with Elemental Affinity is able to achieve by will alone.

However, it is clear that Spells are cumbersome and often, in the older variants, inefficient methods of replicating such effects. As an example, the original Flame Bolt spell requires triple the Mana cost of a Flame Bolt Skill and takes approximately two and a half times longer to cast. And, as we know, the Flame Bolt spell only requires a small number of calculations and formulae answers.

This leads us to the third variation on Elemental Affinities�Skills. Class Skills are, without doubt, System-generated aspects. There have been no records of Class Skills existing outside of the System. Furthermore, all Class Skills are not active in non-System-activated space, unlike manually studied spells. Even System-learned spells are useable outside of System space, though at increased cost (see W-12-A for 18888 Experiments in Mana use outside of System Space).

Skills are thus concluded to be the System�s method of replicating Elemental Affinities. It is further believed by this research that��

I exhale, shutting my eyes as my mind is barraged by a sudden deluge of Quest updates. I twitch, shutting them down as fast as they arrive, though a part of me wonders about the sudden increase. Interesting as Elemental Affinities are, and it is interesting, I�m not entirely sure why it�s suddenly so important to the System.

But there�s only one way to tell. I pick the book up again, focusing.

Days later, I walk into the hotel suite, moving around the armed and armored individuals in the room by instinct. I dodge the casual swipe of a polearm and snag a can of proverbial green juice and a sandwich as I head for my room. My increased Constitution might make sleeping a minor thing for me, but I�ve been up for days on end. Only the sudden thrust of the naginata�s blade stops me, taking my attention away from the book I�ve still got open.

�What?� I say grouchily.

�It�s been a week,� Mikito says. �You haven�t come back or answered your messages in the last few days. You obviously haven�t even changed your clothing. You just left us to handle everything alone.�

�Uh, everyone�s alive, right?� I turn to stare at Mikito and my eyes narrow slightly, running over her combat-armored form, then move to the pair of armed humans in the suite. Their faces and names take a moment before they slot into place. Both are members of Katherine�s security services. �Problem?�

�No,� Joe, the short and bald fellow, says, his dusky skin mostly hidden under his armored jumpsuit. �We�re hitting a dungeon today.�

�Oh good. Have fun.� At Mikito�s growl, I raise an eyebrow.

�You didn�t read Katherine�s message, did you?� Mikito says accusingly.

�Message?�

�Aaargh! No wonder Lana told me�� Mikito mutters the last bit, but I hear it clearly. My eyes narrow, but the little Japanese woman glares right back at me. �Katherine told us we have to find a new place in ten days.�

�Oh. I�ll get right on that.�

�The message was sent a week ago. When we arrived,� Mikito says, stressing the last bit. �She forwarded it to me the next day when she realized you hadn�t opened it.�

�Oh. Ohh�� I blink, realizing we have less than three days left. Four if you include today. �Damn.�

�Exactly.� Mikito sighs. �I�m running a dungeon today. We need to increase the security personnel�s Levels and earn some Credits. Harry�s doing the research you were supposed to follow up on about finding us a place to rent. But all the places he can find require a one-year non-refundable deposit.�

�One year!� I yelped. Recalling how much the rent was from what Ali mentioned, that amount is insane. �How are we going to make that much?�

�Dun. Geon,� Ali intones then floats over to smack me on top of the head. �Like what you were supposed to be doing.�

�Really?� I whine slightly and get another smack from Ali. It obviously doesn�t hurt, which is why I�m allowing it for now, though I glare at the Spirit to warn him against trying again. �Fine. I�ll� umm��

�Figure out a guild to join today. After you rest,� Mikito says, pointing her naginata at me. �Then do research on which dungeon we should hit and what quests we can get.�

�Right, right.� I bob my head in acknowledgement as the Samurai waves out her entourage.

The guards have great poker faces, barely letting anything escape. Too bad I�ve got my Eye of Insight so I can easily see their amusement and fear. Amusement at me. Fear of Mikito. Once they�re gone, I sigh and scratch my head.

�I might have gotten a little carried away,� I admit to Ali.

The Spirit snorts, and I down the green juice while walking into my room. Maybe I should regulate how much research I do. Even if I do enjoy the research and have a tendency to fall into the �zone� when doing it, getting out and killing things is good.

So. Guild. Quests. Dungeons. Death.

Right. Back to the usual grind then.

Chapter 6

A couple of hours, later after an entirely refreshing nap and even more refreshing shower, I�m wolfing down a large meal with Ali, though he mostly picks at the food and swills the alcohol.

�Are you sure we have to join a guild?� I say.

�Yes,� Ali says. �Irvina regulations. It�s how they control access, especially to the higher Level dungeons.�

�Which are the ones we want to go to.�

�Exactly,� Ali says. �And there�s nothing wrong with joining a guild. They do provide a ton of resources. And as a Master Class, you�d be highly valued.�

�But there are cons too, right?�

�Well, sure. But I�ll filter out the guilds with bad reputations,� Ali says. �You don�t have to worry about that.�

�Not that kind of con. Pros and cons. Negatives.�

�Oh. Right. Yeah, mostly around guild dues and occasional mandatory quests,� Ali says. �And some guilds align themselves with various factions.�

�I�d like to stay neutral.� When the silence drags on, I finish chewing the piece of steak I�m eating and meet Ali�s incredulous gaze. �What?�

�You literally just finished aligning your entire planet with the Edge. And pissed off the Fist and the Traditionalists,� Ali says. �You are the most politically charged contractee I�ve ever had.�

�Yeah, but that was politics,� I say. �Not personal.�

�You don�t actually believe that, do you?�

�No. Not really.� I sigh, my appetite gone. I push my plate aside, eyeing the feast left and pack it up to store in my inventory. While everything that goes in comes back out in roughly the same state, storing, say, a bowl of soup still needs care. Unless you want to accidentally pull it out the wrong way around. �Right. So we need to join a guild and it�s likely one that�ll be politically aligned. Unless there�s another option? I mean, not everyone wants to join guilds, no?�

�There is one.� Ali makes a face as he reluctantly admits the truth. �But it sucks. They take a good twenty-five percent of your take, compared to most others� ten. And with your status, we could probably get it down to five.�

�Who?�

�The Non-Affiliated Guild of Adventurers�NAGA,� Ali says slowly. �Not to be confused with the actual species. They offer certification, sale of goods to members, and guild quests. Membership with NAGA gives you access to affiliated guilds for use of their accommodations and other guild services, generally at a much higher price. Mostly, NAGA adventurers use that benefit in cities which don�t have a NAGA branch, which is most of them.�

I cock my head to the side. �That�s it?�

�It�s the crap choice of the undecided,� Ali says. �Those who join it are either too scared to get involved with a proper guild, too weak to be accepted by anyone else, or too hesitant to reach for real power. Most of the time NAGA only gives you access to generic quests�the ones that are available for anyone. Material collection quests basically. Anything more specialized goes directly to proper guilds.�

�But joining it means you aren�t aligning yourself with any group, right?�

�Again, too late for that, boy-o.�

I cross my arms, glowering at Ali. The Spirit returns my gaze, waiting for me to resolve myself to the inevitable. I hate the idea of getting even more involved in Galactic politics. I hate the idea that joining up with one group means I�ll be forced to choose sides. The sides all have agendas and ideology that I might or might not agree with.

All I want to do now is research and work out why our world, my friends, my family had to die. All I want is an answer to the question of who put this damn farce of a System in place, why millions struggle to survive and millions more fight and bleed and die every day. Every year. Why billions have fallen and even more slowly fade away.

The System gives us Classes and experience, a guided way to grow. But it limits us too, forces us to use their Shop, their System. It encroaches on our privacy, demands that bodies be fed into the grinder of dungeons. It warps society to bend to its insane healing speed and Mana use, making things like violence an everyday occurrence. It creates tiers between society, offering those who were lucky enough to be born into a good family, a good guild, a leg up on Skills and Classes. Guidance on how to build yourself, on what Skills to purchase, what to focus on.

Never mind the tyrants and autocrats at the Heroic and Legendary Level. Stories abound of those who use and abuse their positions to rule over settlements, planets, or in some cases, empires. When someone hits that Level, it�s hard to knock them down. A Master Class is powerful, but they can still be dealt with. Heroics require large forces to pin down and deal with. Large forces like guilds�

�If I do go with NAGA, what are the negatives? Beyond the obvious lack of help,� I finally say, pushing aside my ambivalent feelings. Better to listen now than keep grumbling over something I can�t change.

�Well, for one thing, you�ll get pestered endlessly by all the guilds asking you to join them. Hiding away in the Questors� inner sanctum might save you a little, but once you actually go into the dungeons, they won�t stop,� Ali says. �Next, dungeons are similar to Dungeon Worlds. All those people you�ve angered? They can target you in there without risk. Most guilds set up times when their guild members enter the dungeons together, so they can aid each other if necessary�if it�s viable for the dungeon obviously. Where that isn�t possible, it�s still safer to have a group around. Being with NAGA means you get none of that.

�On top of that, you�ll be paying more at various stores and the like. There�s no Reputation bonus with NAGA, so any quests you find and complete won�t be as effective. With some of the bigger guilds, they�re big enough that some of your enemies will back off. At least from open confrontations.�

I nod. Thus far, no one has come to deal with us. Not directly. Though I�m wondering about the attack by the pirates. It�d be easy enough to pass word down to mess with us, and someone like the Fist or the Traditionalists had good reason to want to stop us from arriving at Prax. As for the Thirteen Moon Sects or the Zarrie, they�ll likely come along to deal with us. Our only advantage right now is that with our Levels, they face the same issue as when they first faced us�finding enough people of appropriate strength. And in Irvina at least, they�ll have to do it in a way that won�t come back to bite them in the ass.

Still, the fact that I�m basically locking myself in a room means that I�m making myself a sitting target. Sooner or later, they�ll come.

�You can stop grinning now. It�s creepy.� Ali pops a grape-like object in his mouth and chews. �Then there�s all the stuff that a good guild will give you. Also, you might want to consider the fact that Mikito and the rest of your people are joining up.�

�Mikito�s joined a guild?� I say, then realize how stupid a question that is. Of course she joined one. Otherwise how could she get into the dungeon? �Which one?�

�Eh, there�s an official and hard-to-pronounce name, but most call it Tig�s Guild,� Ali says. �Tig, the Guild Master, is a late-Level Heroic Class.�

�What Class?�

�War Oracle. Very, very high Agility, haste, and other speed spells, combined with the ability to foretell the future and create buffs for those he�s with. He�s also got a variety of conditional high-attack damage-dealing Skills. Stuff like �if X person moves here after three steps and if Y person is in this location and the moon is waxing� kind of thing.� My jaw drops, and Ali shrugs. �Conditional Skills and Spells give more bang for the buck in terms of Mana output. Like three to four times.�

�Damn.�

�Lots of people have tried to replicate his success. A few have gotten decent results, but no one�s made it to Heroic levels yet,� Ali says. �Rumors are, he�s also specced for very high levels of Luck.�

�I can see how that�d work.� I drum my fingers on the table. �All right. Fine. Tig�s Guild might be viable. But tell me of some others.�

�Right. Next, we�ve got the Tex-98s. They�re aligned to the Technocrats. Not particularly an issue for you, but the reason I�m talking about them is that the Technocrats are sort-of aligned with the Questors too. Add the fact that we�ve got our Elemental Affinities and they�ll be slavering over us joining them. Now, their Guild Leader��

I lean forward and pay attention, resigning myself to some study about these matters. Whether I like it or not, I�ll have a lot of options and I�ll have to make a decision at some point. Best to make the decision while the ball is in my court.

Once we�d discussed and thrown around names and ideas, in the end, we came up with a short list of guilds. I stuck NAGA on that list because, well, I�m still drawn to the idea of being neutral. Even if I know I�m not seen as that. Probing my thought processes a little more, I must admit I�m a bit pissed with both the Traditionalists and the Fist for setting up Earth the way they did. So maybe I�m not as neutral as I�d like to think I am.

Once the list was decided upon, it was time to actually visit the guilds. While I�d seen the buildings that hosted the various Adventurer guilds, we hadn�t stopped at them. Interestingly enough, the majority of guilds ringed Irvina�s Arena, rather than the Prime Dungeon as I�d expected. It seemed that the dungeon had initially been set up some distance out of town, but years of development had enveloped it. Rather than the guilds, what grew up around the dungeon itself were the butchers, harvesters, and other shops that dealt with the produce of the dungeon. Instead, the guilds clustered around the Arena, a place to test and train their people while showcasing their strength.

�The Verdant Green Waters,� I read, staring at the sign right above the double doors leading into the guild. The building appears relatively quiet, but that�s no surprise considering it�s the middle of the day. Most people would come in during the morning and evening. Only those who finish their quests early or are in to relax or socialize would wander in during the middle of the day. �A bit pretentious, no?�

�It�s better in our native tongue,� the short yellow creature with red cheeks says to me.

My ears twitch slightly as I glare at the fellow who managed to sneak up. It�s particularly impressive considering I have the ability to see through most Stealth Skills and tech.

Peemoracha �Pi� Kyaka (Level 38 Shadow Master) (M)

HP: 1780/1780

MP: 4530/4530

Conditions: Shadow Servant (x3), Linked Form, Shadow Clone

�Your native tongue?� I say.

�The founder was part of my clan,� Pi says with a slight smile. �We get tons of our members from my clan. Even if we are small. Our clan, that is. Not the guild.�

�Don�t let him fool you. His �clan� spans four solar systems and has a combined population over twenty billion.�

�Right.� I look at him with Society�s Web for a second. Ever since leaving Earth, I�ve found little use for the Skill. After all, I�m trying as hard as I can to avoid politics. But the myriad webs, both small and big, that lead from him clue me in. �You�re the Guild Master, aren�t you?�

�Yes,� Pi admits. �I sensed you outside. Your shadow�s heavy. Thought it�d be time to deepen the shadows. Talk.�

�Trying to convince me to join you?�

�Of course,� Pi admits. �Inside?�

I sigh and follow the yellow man, grumbling quietly to myself. Still, this is a Tier II guild, like the rest on my short list. We decided to join Tier II guilds rather than a Tier I, not because we couldn�t but because of the hassle involved. Better to be a big fish in a smaller pond than a big fish in a big pond. Since I don�t want to be saddled with too many obligations, I can probably make my case this way. At least, that�s what I try to explain to Pi.

But after my explanation, the alien sighs. �Not sure this works. We�re about loyalty. Brothers in shadows.�

I can�t help but nod to acknowledge his point. The loyalty that the guild is known to share with its members was the main selling point and the reason I�m here. If I have to join a guild, joining one known to back its people seems a good trade.

�But loyalty has to be earned. You want loyalty from us. But only want to offer a little. Not a fair trade, no?�

I offer Pi a wry smile even as I admit he�s right. After all, I�m basically asking him to give me full rights to do what I want while enjoying the protection of their guild and their services. In turn, I promise to only occasionally help them. And of course, pay my dues.

�Not going to work, Redeemer. You not want to change offer?� When I shake my head, Pi nods. �Not worth it then.�

I grimace but stand, almost offering my hand before Ali�s hiss and a note on Galactic customs makes me freeze. Right. Shaking hands is not exactly considered good manners in the galaxy. �No hard feelings.�

�Good,� Pi says with a flattening of his ears.

I follow the man out, sighing. Well, one done. On to the next.

�We at Enkrago pride ourselves on our connections throughout the Galaxy. We�re always one of the first guilds to a developing world, ensuring that we develop strong connections with the natives,� Joffrey says, the Enkrago�s Vice-Guild Master. He is, amusingly, a bookish Hakarta with a pair of bladed whips strapped to his thighs. �Of course, in the case of Earth, we have established six guild halls in your �Africa.��

Well, that explains why I don�t recall them. My time in Africa was cut short, mostly due to a rather unfortunate death while I was visiting. That kind of leaves a bit of a taint in other people�s mouths. So I rarely visited, just popping in to deal with problems when they occurred.

�If you join Enkrago, we can guarantee you some of the best paid and most exclusive quests in the System. Our connections give us amazing opportunities that cannot be rivaled. If you�re looking to join an expedition, get paid to hunt dangerous beasts, conquer settlements, or just explore new dungeons, we�ve got it all,� Joffrey continues, almost bouncing in his seat in excitement. �I can tell you, a Combat Classer of your Level would attract a significant number of new, personal requests.

�On top of that, if I may be so bold, I can help you fill out your current party roster. Once we put out the word that the Redeemer of the Dead is looking for new members, we�ll be flooded.�

I raise my hand, but Joffrey continues to blither on for a few minutes. I have to switch on my Aura to drag his attention to me before I can speak. �That�s great and all, but you didn�t listen. I don�t want to take on too many quests. Or find new party members. Or be bugged about new things to do. I have my own plans.�

�Well, of course you do! And we�d do our best to meet them,� Joffrey says, nodding firmly as his huge nostrils flare. �We will only send the most important quests your way. We can even set up a minimum deposit requirement.�

�That�s not what I�m saying. I�m saying I doubt I�ll take on any quests at all,� I say.

�Oh, of course. Most of our Master Classers don�t. Just meeting with our patrons and taking one Class B or higher quest every six months should be more than sufficient,� Joffrey says.

�Class B?� I open my mouth to question him then shut it, holding up a hand to stop Joffrey�s blithering. �You know what, never mind. I think I�ve heard enough.�

�Really? Perfect. I�ll get the paperwork ready��

�No, no. I still need to look into some other things. Don�t worry, I�ll call you if I decide to go with the Enkrago.�

�Of course. You have my contact information, right? Well, here it is again,� Joffrey says, though some of his enthusiasm has wavered.

I head out of the private office. Beside me, Ali is laughing silently and invisibly, a giant bag of popcorn in hand.

�That�s it?� I say, eyeing the NAGA guild.

�Yup.�

�That can�t be it.�

�It is.�

�That�s�� I look up and down the stall. It�s literally a stall installed into the side of the building, large enough to fit the bored-looking grey creature with big eyes and nothing else. �Underwhelming. I thought you said there was a guild branch here.�

�It is a guild branch. That�s the guild master,� Ali crows, savoring his triumph as I struggle to hide my disappointment. I mean, I like to think I�m not hugely influenced by glitz and glam, but seeing the difference between the large and ostentatious guild branches that I�ve visited and this�

�Maybe we�ll come back later?� I say hesitantly.

Somehow, this physical example of how little the guild offers has hit more than all the talking we did beforehand. While the part of me that doesn�t want to get involved still refuses to back down, the more rational part is telling it to shut up. Compromise is something I can do. The gods know I did more than enough of that while getting Earth on the Council.

Guild after guild, I pop in to talk to them. Some are obsequious and slimy, desperate to get me involved. Others are accommodating, willing to work with my requests so long as I am willing to compromise on my own requests. And others are more hesitant, wishing to work with me but wanting to explore our relationship on a temporary basis. It�s not entirely the red-carpet treatment Ali had painted. Eventually, I find myself in Tig�s Guild, Mikito�s choice.

�Redeemer.� Draco, the Vice-Guild Master of the Irvina branch, sits before me, legs crossed. That he has two that he crosses and two�and a tail�that he uses to balance himself makes the snake/dragon hybrid a sight to behold. After seeing his weird number of limbs, his beautiful purple and green scales and his long, lizard-like face aren�t that shocking.

Draco min Tish, Vice-Guild Master, The Silent Killer, Nightwarden, Monster Slayer, Duellist, more� (Level 43 Inked Mage) (M)

HP: 1570/1570

MP: 9890/9890

Conditions: Flame Friend, Reinforced Scales, Ink Armor, Layered Power, Mana Battery (B), Health Battery (A)

�Before you ask, an Inked Mage is normally someone who uses tattoos to fight. Though with Draco�s scales, I have a feeling that he�s altered the way he uses his Class slightly.�

�Vice-Guild Master,� I say respectfully. His titles, if not his Level, would have me be respectful. As for his Levels� well, that�s more than enough to make me somewhat wary. �Thank you for seeing me.�

�As if I would not speak with a potential Master recruit. The Spear mentioned that you would likely arrive,� Draco says. �I did warn the Spear that your acceptance to our guild would be dependent upon your own accomplishments.�

�Oh?� I raise an eyebrow, curious. This is the first time one of the guilds has been so blunt. Especially when someone like Mikito has already vouched for me. I wonder if it�s my Reputation. Or something else.

�You come with a degree of infamy. While we are�somewhat�aligned with the Expansionists, a significant portion of our members are also members of the Fist faction. That your actions have caused one of the Dungeon Worlds to become less welcoming to members of that faction is difficult,� Draco says. �And while your combat ability is without doubt, it seems you have some reservations about joining a guild fully.�

�I do.� I consider how to say the rest. �Firstly, I�m always going to put humanity first. Guild or no guild, if there�s a conflict��

�A non-issue. Species-upon-species conflicts is a common exception.�

�Good. I also don�t want to accept quests willy-nilly. Frankly, I�m here at Irvina to study at the Questors� hall.�

�Yes. The Spear mentioned that.� Draco makes a face. �While we do not have any objections to Questors, we�ve found many of them to be either extremely foolhardy in their attempts to test new hypotheses or entirely too reluctant to join expeditions.�

�Well, I�m not planning on running any tests that will endanger others.� I pause before adding, �And I�m going to need a lot of funds very soon. So running the dungeons is a non-issue.�

�Until you acquire sufficient funds,� Draco says. �At which point you�ll disappear and shelter yourself under our guild�s name.�

I shrug slightly, not denying his words.

�You are very straightforward.�

�Is there a point lying?� I ask.

�No.�

�I�m also not looking to get assigned any special duties or do any of the paperwork,� I continue, figuring I might as well finish my spiel.

�That is a non-issue. Few Combat Classers are suited for desk work.�

�Well, that�d be about it then.� Really, my wants and needs weren�t much. Just don�t bother me and let me do my thing. But�

�I�m currently failing to see what we would gain from having you in our Guild, Redeemer,� Draco says.

�Truth be told, so am I.�

�Oy!� Ali exclaims, rolling his eyes as he floats over. �That�s a horrible bargaining statement. And you know boy-o brings a ton. While he might not want to do quests, if you�ve got any bleeding heart quests out there, if you waved it in front of his face, he�d probably go help. Not too often of course, �cause I�d get pissed.�

�Bleeding heart?�

�Mana siphon quests,� Ali says.

Draco nods, looking me up and down consideringly. �Ah. One of those. Rare at the Master level.�

�He�s all kind of rare,� Ali says. �Add the fact that you haven�t seen him and Mikito get to work. Your people might be good, but those two are another thing altogether.�

�I�ve seen the Spear�s returns,� Draco says. �Impressive, considering her level and lack of knowledge of the local dungeons.�

�Going in cold is kind of our thing,� I say, stepping in. �In fact, if you guys ever have new dungeons��

�Not a feature of our city dungeons,� Draco says. �But the city does have kill and Mana thresholds for each guild. If you and the Spear are able to elevate our level��

�No guarantees,� I say.

�No problem,� Ali says at the same time.

I glare at Ali, who opens up a notification window for me to look at. It�s a ranking chart of the various guilds and their Mana dispersal contribution�a.k.a. kill points. As in, the Mana that gets dispersed when you kill a monster. And all it takes is a quick review to make me realize why Ali�s willing to make the guarantee. The guild is close and getting them to the next level would only take a little bit of work. From what I recall of Vancouver�s dungeon, the Mana points each monster provides increases as their levels increase. All I have to do is kill a bunch of high-Level monsters for a few days. Probably.

�You�re confident, I�ll give you that.� Draco shrugs as he stands. �Well, let�s see how well you do. You�re a spellsword, correct?�

�Paladin of Erethra.�

�I was speaking of your fighting style. Magic and sword, yes?� Draco says impatiently as he leads me out of the room.

I follow after agreeing, already having an inkling of where we�re going. And while he hasn�t agreed to us joining�and I haven�t said I would�I have to admit, I�m curious to test myself out against his people.

He says, �Room three should be fine.�

�Three?�

�We have four training rooms that can be used at any time. The first two are meant for Basic and Advanced Classes, the third for Master Classes. The last is set up for ranged combatants of all levels,� Draco says. �You�ll show us what you have in the third room.�

When we arrive, I eye the training room. On first look, it seems to be a plain room filled with tall posts with arms sticking out of them. Those arms glow with enchantments�some sparkling with ice, others burning with fire, and even an occasional post cackling with lightning. The floor itself is dark sand while the ceiling is bare of any dangers. So. The moving posts are the greatest danger.

Well. That, and the six-foot-tall Amazon with flame-red hair that literally ripples as she stands there. I find myself staring at her chest, the disjointed look of her body throwing me off for a second before I shake my head. The galaxy is entirely too weird when basic symmetry is no longer an issue. On the other hand, the bow and arrows that my opponent carries is worrying, considering I also have an obstacle course to get through. Or would be if I couldn�t Blink Step.

�Clear the room. Don�t kill anyone,� Draco says then steps backward.

I nod amiably, but the moment I take my eyes off the Amazon, she�s drawn and fired her bow. The arrow shrieks through the air, and I barely dodge the attack, the arrow plucking at my hair as it flies past. A Soul Shield gets layered on within seconds, which is good because her follow-up arrow slams into my shield, the arrow head shattering into pieces and pelting my shield. I snarl, ducking low and hiding behind a post.

It�s useless though. Her arrows arc over and around my cover as if she can see around it. I conjure swords and cut a pair of projectiles apart, but the second one explodes as I do so, wrapping me in flame. Which is exactly the kind of distraction I�ve been waiting for.

Ali�s taken to the sky, hovering high above and observing the whole situation. He�s high enough that I can use his gaze to Blink Step right behind the Amazon, throwing a cut as I spin around to catch her by surprise.

Funnily enough, I�m the one caught out. The ground surges up as the black sand parts, the sand elemental wrapping around my legs as it crawls along my body.

My cut still catches the Amazon high on her back, tearing apart her gleaming metallic armor. The attack isn�t good enough to kill or disable though, as the Amazon throws herself into a roll to get away. In the meantime, the damn sand elemental glomps onto my arm and crawls up the rest of my body even as it constricts my movements.

Blink Step takes me high, but surprisingly, the elemental is still with me. I fall hard, since I can�t actually splay or otherwise shift myself to take the impact. We land and crater the ground slightly even as I spot the Amazon raising her bow. A moment later, a sharp shock ripples through my side, a Mana-enhanced arrow landing in a tiny gap that the elemental created for the attack. It hurts, especially as the Mana arrows ignore my base defenses.

�You�re annoying me,� I growl. Flexing my arms, I find them pressed against my body as though steel bands were holding me down. Well, steel bands for my pre-System self. Pure strength seems to be out of the question. So� �Let it burn.�

I call down the Beacon of the Angels right on top of the Amazon. The attack catches her by surprise, the beam of brilliant white light appearing from above with little warning as the woman focuses on my thrashing form. There�s not enough time for the Amazon to dodge, though she tries. As for the sand elemental, there�s nowhere for it to go. The beam splashes over both of us, sending the elemental screaming and rippling over my body. Even so, it continues to hold me down, unwilling to let go.

I growl softly, straining against the sandman and finding no give. By this point, I�m entirely entombed in the creature and it is attempting to infiltrate my orifices. Panic attempts to overtake me then, as claustrophobia asserts itself. Entombed, unable to move, my body slowly being invaded as oxygen runs out. It�s a nightmare scenario of epic proportions.

But I�ve been in worse positions. Thousand hells, I threw myself down the gullet of a nightmare creature, choking on its bile just to win. And my mental resistances are better now. I no longer need to sheathe myself in anger. Instead I wrap myself in calm.

�Ali�polar zone.�

I leave the Spirit to cast the spell for me, lowering the temperature and slowing down the Amazon and chilling the sand elemental. Then I cast Ice Blast, letting the attack out from my trapped hands into the elemental. Once, then again.

I feel it thrashing in pain. Without being asked, Ali continues to channel the Polar Zone while adding an Ice Storm above us. The temperature drops and drops, but I�m snug and warm in the elemental. The elemental is held together only by bonds of Mana and will, both of which are under attack. Its body hardens as it grows slightly wet from the ice and the spells restrict it. Already those questing tendrils that invade my nostrils have stopped moving. Even as my body coughs and jerks, attempting to free itself, my mind chants the spells and layers them again and again.

�Get out here, boy-o. Lady A is trying to pincushion me. And I�m too young to be an embroidery.�

I�m too busy to even work out what the Spirit is trying to say. But as another Ice Blast smashes apart the elemental, I decide it�s time. I throw my not-inconsiderable strength against the bonds holding me while drawing all the lent strength possible from the System, disregarding its other benefits. I feel my muscles bunch and twist and tendons tear, muscle fibers twisting and joints popping as my body, no longer held together by the System as I apply the full power of the Strength attribute, comes apart. Even as I tear myself apart, the System helps by healing me, stitching torn muscle and tendons together as fast as I tear them apart. I roar in muted agony as I strain, pushing against the elemental, blood flooding my mouth.

A crack, a snap. But this time, it�s from the elemental as I shatter the sand cage of its body. It falls away and I roll aside as I Blink Step into mid-air, freeing myself of the foreign substances within me. This time around, the elemental doesn�t come along, too damaged to try. Oxygen, blessed oxygen, floods my body. I find myself coughing and spluttering as blood and air mix in entirely inappropriate ways.

Gravity takes over and I fall, peppered by arrows. The first knocks me sideways, spinning me about, while the next two pierce my body and set up a circuit that runs between the arrows within my body.

�Aaaarggh!� High pain threshold or not, having your body cooked from the inside out is agonizing. I fall to the ground, scrambling to pull out the arrows. Another arrow sprouts in my shoulder, but I throw up a Spirit Shield to stop the next two while I toss the shock arrows aside. �You like lightning, do you?�

I raise my hand. Rage bubbles up in me as I watch the Amazon dash away and hide behind the spinning pillars. Even running away, dodging between the pillars, she�s launching arrows at me. I layer the Soul Shield again, making sure it�s all the way up before I release my attack.

Lightning darts from my hand, playing across the room. I don�t bother trying to guide it, allowing the destructive power of free-flowing electrons to heat and shatter poles, to jump between enchanted arms to land on other extended arms. To ground itself in sand and flesh, to sear and cauterize, to melt and mangle. The lightning dances and I find myself grinning.

�Enough, Redeemer. I�ve seen enough.� Draco�s voice cuts into my fun, and I find myself sighing as I let the spell go.

About time. I�m down to the last thousand or so of my Mana. But as I survey the damage, I�m a little impressed with myself. The most damaged are the poles next to me, but there�s a trail of smoking wreckage. On the ground about two-thirds of the way away from me are the Amazon and the elemental.

�How�d I do?� I say, strolling forward.

�A solid C.�

�C?� I frown, the competitive Chinese in me rearing up. God knows how many times I�ve been beaten for getting a B, never mind a C.

�C. You took too long to deal with the sand elemental. And your coordination with your Spirit is lacking,� Draco�s voice is dispassionate as he continues. �You are able to deal a significant amount of damage, but your combat experience is still lacking. Your tactics are well-known and easy to predict. You react to danger instinctively by reaching for a larger, more powerful attack, rather than subtlety.�

�It worked, didn�t it?� I say defensively.

�It worked. For now. As you progress, more and better-trained opponents will appear,� Draco says. �In the end, you�re too used to fighting monsters. Until you apply yourself to fighting other sentients, until you gain the necessary experience, I cannot increase your rating.�

I growl but clamp my mouth shut. He�s right. The sand elemental and Amazon-girl are high Advanced Classes only. Even working together, they shouldn�t have caused me so much trouble. They might have their own buffs, speed increases, and coordination, but I should have done better. Had to do better.

�Fine. You�re right.� I exhale forcefully. �But it�s not as if I can just go around picking fights.�

�But you can train. Here.� Draco waves around the training room, which the System is already restoring. �The guild can provide a large number of training partners for you. Give you the variety and experience you lack.�

�For?� I ask suspiciously.

�Well, you�ll be training our people too. But I�ll expect you to take up a guild-designated quest each month you train.�

�I won�t take just any quest.�

�Agreed. But you will take one.�

�Done.�

�Then welcome to Tig�s Guild,� Draco says.

�You call it that too?� I say with a slight smile.

�I don�t have the required number of vocal chords to pronounce it in the original language. Or the time to say its full name properly in Galactic,� Draco says. �And the guild master has banned calling it anything but its proper name. As such, we�ve taken to calling it his guild.�

I find myself nodding, accepting the fact that I�m now in Tig�s guild. Even if it�s not perfect, I like Draco. I like what he�s selling, and since Mikito is part of the guild already, it�ll make partying with her much easier. And frankly, of the groups I�ve seen, this seems to work for me. They might not be as close-knit as the Green Waters or as effective as the Enkrago, but a middle ground is good. A middle ground is balance.

I�m surprised when I finally get back to our hotel suite and find that I�ve got a visitor. Thankfully, the presence of familiar guards in front of the suite doors gave her presence away well before I walked in.

�How�d you get the key?� I say, flopping down in a chair opposite Katherine. Not that key is the right term, since it�s more of a Status update and permission, but whatever.

�I am the one paying for these rooms,� Katherine says. �Also, Mikito told me I could come in any time I wanted.�

I grunt an affirmative, looking over the older woman carefully. For the first time in a long while, I actually look at my ex-secretary, taking in the changes the System had wrought upon her. There aren�t a lot, but they�re definitely there�a tightening in the skin on her face, the smoothing out of lines, and a little more luster in her hair. There�s more definition in her arms and body, a slight filling out and slimming down as she grew healthier through the application of points. More interesting is the subtle pressure of presence that even I can notice, a significant increase from before. It makes Katherine stand out even when she�s sitting still. Probably the manifestation of her Charisma points.

Katherine Ward, Ambassador for Earth (Level 11 Diplomat) (B)

HP: 390/390

MP: 1820/1820

Conditions: Condition linked (x4), Social Network, Shielded, Subtle Presence, Here be my Domain

Ever since she got the job as the ambassador, Katherine has branched and multi-classed. It�s not the most effective way of getting new Classes, and I know at some point she might want to reset all her experience and points. The actual act of resetting Classes is something we�ve only recently learned is possible. Mostly due to a restriction being lifted by Rob as the new ruler of Earth.

Unfortunately, doing so comes with a huge cost. Resetting her experience points and Class Skills can only happen if an individual with the right Class is around, or via the System. But in doing so, you have to sacrifice a significant amount of experience points�somewhere along the lines of a third of everything gained. Not surprisingly, as with anything dealing with the System, there�s a huge cost in terms of banked Mana and Credits, which is why most people dual Class, especially when they�re low Basic Classes. In the short term, Katherine is going with the flow with her new Basic Class until things settle down. And it�s not as if her other Classes don�t have their own benefits.

�Right. So what are you doing here?� I say.

�Can�t a woman talk to her ex-employer without there being an external reason?�

�She could. But you haven�t.�

�And here I thought we were friends.� When I sit there in silence, not rising to her bait, Katherine grows serious. �We�ve met with a number of representatives in the city. And viewed a number of the available locations. In fact, we�ve viewed all the publicly available locations in the second ring. All twenty-three.�

I frown, thinking back to the huge amount of space in those towers. �Why so few?�

�Most locations are held directly. Few are up for lease, even fewer are available publicly to those with our Reputation levels.� Katherine pauses before adding, �And the few that are available are set at ridiculous prices.�

�How ridiculous?�

�Three months of rent would use up our entire budget for the year.�

�I guess we�re going to the outer rings,� I say, considering. �Probably third?�

�Fourth,� Ali says, butting in. �Not worth staying in the third when it�s dedicated to the Guilds. Those guys are even worse than the Empires at fighting over spaces. Though their leases change faster.�

�Yes, fourth.� Katherine inclines her head to Ali. �We�ve begun reviewing potential spaces. However, there is a disadvantage in doing so.�

�Lack of prestige?� I ask. Not that it makes much sense to me. What does it matter if your IT company is in Seattle or Silicone Valley? In downtown Vancouver or Surrey? It�s not as if travel between the two locations is that hard.

�Prestige and brand for potential investors for Earth is a concern. There are also security concerns. The fourth ring falls outside of the unofficial dentate of violent pressure tactics in the second ring,� Katherine says. �Add the fact that it�s easier to delay my arrival for important votes and it is less than satisfactory.�

�Well, that sucks, but how does that affect me? Mikito�s the one with the big Reputation points, thanks to her fights in the Arena. And she�s not been screwed over at the last minute from bad deals.� Yeah, maybe I�m still a little bitter about Rob.

�As you know, we�ve joined the Expansionist faction. Specifically, under the aegis of the Duchess of Kangana,� Katherine says. �Her representative has indicated a desire to speak with you. In return, she will be willing to open up certain of her properties for our lease.�

I twitch slightly before I still my reaction. That�s not a name I expected to hear. Though I think that�s mostly because I�ve been trying very hard not to think about her. Or a certain Weaponmaster who still wants my head on a block. �Speak? That�s it?�

�There are probably more strings,� Katherine admits readily, her expectant gaze weighing heavily on me.

My lips purse, tightening significantly, but I nod. �Set it up. I�ll talk. No guarantees of anything else, but I�ll talk.�

�Thank you, John,� Katherine says as she stands.

I raise an eyebrow at her abrupt departure but don�t try to stop her. That elicits another mysterious smile from the woman, as if she can read my thoughts. This is fast becoming a bad habit, the way so many of my friends can read me. I mean, I�ve got that damn Subtlety Perk. Shouldn�t I be harder to read? But maybe I�m not that sneaky.

The sofa molds to my body even more deeply as I slump, giving in to the sinful comfort. Every time you think you�re out, they pull you right back in. I could even promise myself this is the last time, the very last, before I do something for myself but�

But I�ve long ago worn out that level of self-delusion. I am who I am, and a sucker for certain types of situations is one of them.

I sigh, letting my eyes drift closed as I discard worries about the Duchess, instead focusing on more immediate problems. Like the dungeon I�ve got to run tomorrow.

Chapter 7

The dungeon entrance we�re waiting to enter is rather interesting. The dungeon itself is a giant biodome, one known to warp the space within to create an environment that is kilometers long. On top of that, there are multiple instances of the dungeon, allowing multiple groups to run the dungeon at any one time, which is one of its draws. Still, as we walk forward, I can�t help but comment.

�Dungeon four-dash-three?� I say, shaking my head. �Couldn�t they think of a better name?�

�It�s practical,� Ali says as he floats beside us. �When you�ve got multiple races, even with translation, it�s easier to use numbers. Everyone uses numbers.�

�Mathematics is universal,� Mikito says agreeably. �And it�s a good dungeon. Wide. Lots of quests to fulfill. Lots of monsters to kill.�

�And patterned off a lost world, which makes it of cultural importance,� Harry adds.

�Yeah, not interested in that last part. Though it�s good training for the Forbidden Zone expeditions,� Ali says, gesturing to a group of Master Classes and their late Advanced Class attendants standing around getting briefed.

I look over, eyeing their gear and set-up. There�s no way to tell if this is a trial run for picking out members or just a training exercise, but in either case, the group looks suitably serious. Of course, the expedition group will get ported in deep, skipping the lower-Level regions right next to the entrance to get some proper training in. I wonder if they�ll turn off all notifications too, just like in a Forbidden Zone.

�You don�t speak much about the Forbidden Zone,� Harry comments idly, clearly fishing.

�That�s because there�s not much to tell. Lots of monsters. Lots of violence.� Lots of loss and pain. An abandoned civilization, a discarded species. And a single Paladin who refused to give up. Memories of suffering and injury, of good times and bad crowd my mind. Four years. The majority of my time in the System.

�There�s more than that,� Harry says but gets shushed by Mikito.

I shake off the thoughts as we join the line, adding only one sentence of caution for the reporter. �Don�t even think about it. Until you�re at least a Master Class, going there is a recipe for disaster. Even Combat Classed Advanced Classers can only hang around Master Classes for safety. Even then, they mostly die. Expeditions have a seventy-percent fatality rate, with the vast majority of losses among the Advanced Classes. And wipeouts from badly planned expeditions.�

Harry nods dumbly, though from the interested looks he keeps sending after the expedition group, he�s obviously still considering it. I dismiss the thought, knowing I can�t stop him. Anyway, most expedition quests have minimum standards and a test for those who come along. In a place like the Forbidden Zone, hangers-on are just burdens.

�How about you, toots? Interested in joining an expedition?� Ali says to the characteristically silent Mikito.

�Maybe. As a Master Class,� Mikito says, shifting her grip on her naginata. �We have something more important to focus on now.�

�Good point,� I say, cutting off Ali. �Anything I should know that isn�t on the general description?�

Mikito seems to ponder the question. �Multiple monster types. Snakes, four-legs, simian-types. Mostly smaller, so hard to hit but with a lot of hit points. Tendency to attack in groups, using basic team tactics. Lots of herbs and other collecting quests. Variety drops as you get deeper in but value increases. Minerals too.� I nod, even if most of that knowledge was already in the official information for the dungeon. �Maps are useless. Jungle moves, so you�re constantly bushwhacking. Trees are alive. Lots of poison attacks. That�s about it. What kind of quests did you get?�

I wave, sending over the information rather than speak. I doubt there�s any difference, considering Mikito and I are part of the same guild. Harry joined a completely different guild, one that focused on support Classes like his. I know he�s picked up a number of low-level quests for the area, but I also know he�s mostly along for the ride here. Considering how old this particular dungeon is, there�s little to be gained from reporting on it again.

�Same as mine,� Mikito says disappointedly. �No special requests for the Master Class?�

I ignore her tone, knowing she�s mostly teasing. �There were two escort requests for Advanced Classers into the more dangerous portions.�

Unsaid is the fact that I turned them down. So all we�ve got are a bunch of collection quests for various loot drops from the dungeon. It�s not particularly exciting, but considering how often this dungeon is farmed, it�s not surprising.

As we talk, we finally reach the front of the line.

�Statuses,� the robot intones, and we all flash the relevant part of our guild standings. The robot assesses the information before it speaks. �Please pick portal start location. Please take exit tokens. Store tokens carefully. Emergency teleportation exits will be fined as per dungeon rules 1.9.12.4.1.�

We each grab one of the tokens that are deposited in the slot and put it in our inventory. Mikito takes charge of picking our teleportation location, choosing one that is two-thirds of the way in, close to but not in the main zone for Master Classes. Once the robot acknowledges the choice, the portal doorway changes color and we step through, entering our first alien dungeon together.

The first thing that gets my attention upon arriving is color. Trunks are a dark brown, nearly black, color. Instead of multiple shades of lush greenery, the leaves are all a sickly yellow and orange. Most of the leaves look like large ferns, branches spreading outward in expansive, sky-covering foliage. Occasionally, fruit and flowers can be seen, ranging in color from pus-yellow to garish pink. The whole ensemble makes the entire thing like a bad trip, or at least, what a bad trip looks like when Hollywood gets to work. I�ve never experienced one myself, and with my current resistances, it�s something I never will.

Hallucinogenic poison resisted

Right. I tap my helmet, watching it extract from the banded metallic collar around my neck to cover my face completely. A second later, I�m breathing clean, clear air as the helmet filters out the slightly acrid, poisonous scent.

I turn toward Ali, who floats alongside. �Poison?�

�Eh. Humans don�t handle the breakdown of the plant matter here well.� The Spirit shrugs, looking perfectly at ease.

I try not to get annoyed. Mikito came in with her helmet on, as did Harry, so they probably never even realized I was unaware. Guild warnings probably missed the fact or ignored it, since it seems to be a human frailty. Eyeing the surroundings, I wait for the Japanese lady to lead the way. Right now, I�m just the muscle, since Mikito�s been here a few times.

After a few awkward moments of no one moving, Harry speaks up. �I�m done with my videos if anyone was waiting for me.�

�Great,� I say. �Mikito?�

�I�m ready.�

�Good.�

Silence descends again, and still, no one moves. Awkwardly, I add, �You going?�

�Me?� Mikito tilts her head, meeting my gaze directly. �Aren�t you leading?�

�Well, normally, but you�ve been here before.�

�No, I haven�t,� Mikito says. �We�ve been a couple of locations back, working the edges of the Advanced Class region in here. I wanted to slowly work them in.�

�Right, but you�ve been in the dungeon before.�

�So?� Mikito says with a shrug. �It�s not that hard.�

I growl then throw up my hands, deciding to stop arguing. Fine. If she wants me to lead, I�ll lead. It�s not as if it�s that big a problem. Since the deeper we go into the dungeon from the physical entrance, the more dangerous it is, I decide to cut parallel to the gate. This way we�ll be able to stay in roughly the same level area, keeping us safe. At least till I have a better idea how dangerous this dungeon actually is.

Having decided on what I want to do, I communicate it to my friends. Ali flies ahead, taking over scouting. With his insubstantial body and ability to fly, the Spirit is a good scout. Especially after I make him go visible. His initial presence can and does elicit occasional attacks from dumb plants, fast teaching the rest of us which forms of vegetation to avoid.

There are giant flowers that spit acid or poison, vines that are so sticky a single touch binds you to them. After that, other vines drop from above, wrapping you around and slowly constricting. There�s this set of fungi-looking biomatter that glows gently then explodes in bright light, blinding and flash-frying the area around them. Amazingly enough, the plants that exist next to the flash-shroom have grown to withstand these attacks. I spend a moment staring at the entire mini-ecosystem in fascination.

�The purple plants that look like rocket ships? The �thrusters� get charged up by the explosions. When it�s ready, the entire thing launches into the air, spreading the plant�s seeds. Now, are you done?�

I grunt, accepting that Ali wants to keep moving. I admit, the alien ecosystem before us is absurd. Part of me wonders how much the System changed, how much has evolved because of the Mana density flooding the space, and how much was part of the original planet�s biology. Unfortunately, academic musings are cut short by another threat, this time from a partly-sentient tree that expels its sap in a sticky, rubbery offense.

White Sap Tree (Level 67)

HP: 2138/2138

MP: 378/430 (Limited)

Conditions: Rooted

�Don�t you dare say it,� I say, snarling as the white gloop that covers my left arm pulls me closer to the tree. I conjure my other sword, sending a Blade Strike to cut apart the tree.

Mikito looks wide-eyed and innocent while Ali is too busy laughing.

�Anyone going to help?� I growl when I realize that it�s not a single tree but a stand of them.

As I finish throwing a series of Blade Strikes at the now-spurting group, the cat-serpent creatures who�ve been stalking us launch their attacks. Of course Harry manages to avoid getting targeted and Ali�s too high up, so it�s Mikito and me who bear the brunt of the entire attack.

Mikito cuts one creature apart as her polearm spins, the Samurai dancing under the onslaught that flows around her. Since my off-hand is still gummed up, I take a different tack, conjuring additional blades with Thousand Swords and interspersing the blades between the monsters and me. As one bounces off a sword as claw and blade meet, I get a chance to assess our attacker.

Wild Clomix Type 4-3 (Level 89)

HP: 763/780

MP: 237/438

Condition: Camouflage, Soft Paws, Poison Claws, Shard Bite

I dance backward, moving outside of the ring of protective blades but giving myself some space to throw my Blade Strikes. The Clomix are fast, dodging my attacks with hops and jumps as they close in on me. Swooping down from his spot above us, Ali tackles one of the Clomix, smashing it into the earth as he solidifies himself. Then, straddling the creature, the little Spirit actually punches it, doing a good imitation of a ground-and-pound.

I admit, I�m distracted. The sight of a portly, olive-skinned, goateed Spirit straddling a writhing alien monster breaks my brain for a second for some reason. I cut and throw Blade Strikes on instinct, but the mechanical motions are easy enough for the remaining three Clomix to move around. Legs bunched, one jumps for my throat. Another goes for my lead leg, and the third prowls around to my side, ready for me to commit.

I block the first attack and pull my leg away from the second, but the third Clomix takes the opportunity to pounce, claws digging into and finding purchase on my Soul Shield. Then its mouth widens, distorting, before its teeth clamp onto my Shield and literally rip a hole in it. Surprisingly, the Shield is still present and attempting to close, but it�s stopped by the Clomix�s neck in the gap.

�What the hell?� I snarl, pommel-striking the creature�s head again and again.

By my side, Mikito�s extended her polearm again, using the weapon to cut apart the remaining stand of White Sap Trees as she ducks into their midst. The Clomix follow the woman, somehow avoiding being targeted by the fauna while they harass her.

Focusing on my own problem, I crush the monster�s spine, watching as it flops onto the ground and out of my Soul Shield. The exhilaration of a job well done lasts only long enough for another monster to tear into my ankles, its poisonous claws sending foul liquid into my bloodstream. Stabbing it and its friend is entirely too satisfying, as is burning down the group of trees with a Firestorm once Mikito retreats. I�ll admit, the Firestorm is probably going a little overboard, though the fire soon gutters out. Whatever these trees use for wood, it isn�t half as flammable as Earth wood.

After that, I use one of the many dissolving potions that had been recommended and sold at the guild hall to get rid of the gunk on my arm. While I�m sorting myself out, Ali flits between bodies, looting and storing everything important.

�Well, that sucked,� I say quietly, stretching my previously injured foot. I get nods from Mikito and Harry, who finally ended up getting hit by accident by one of the trees. The entire fight wasn�t particularly successful even if it wasn�t dangerous. More annoying. �Let�s try to do better.�

Mikito snorts. I offer a rueful half-smile. Yeah, it�s my fault for getting distracted by the alien ecosystem. I give my brain a mental walloping, reminding myself that I�m not an academic but an Adventurer. Fight to survive, not stare at things while they bite off my face. Focused, we trek forward, looking for more trouble.

�Yellow mucous from the cobalt imola,� I say, eyeing the dried glob Ali is levitating into a vial. �We need eight portions to meet the minimum delivery requirements.�

�This should fit two-thirds of one vial,� Mikito says, nose wrinkling. �Why do they need eight portions anyway? What if someone only finds six? Are they supposed to just carry the six around forever?�

�Of course not,� Ali says patronizingly. �You either buy more from the hustlers outside the entrance or you sell to them yourself. No one likes carrying drops around with them forever. Well, unless they�re a weird hoarder.�

�I heard that!� I shout.

�Incoming!� Ali informs me, flashing a guidance arrow in the corner of my eyes.

I cut upward with my left hand while dropping, catching the striking snail-shark creature. Instead of side fins, it�s got a slime-like bottom. Otherwise, the snail-shark�s face, body, and the way it attacks is pure shark. My sword cuts into the monster�s lunging face, bouncing off hard bone beneath its skull and forcing it backward.

�Thanks.� I drop the sword and extend my arm, calling forth an Ice Blast that catches a pair of snail-sharks flanking Mikito.

The lady is dealing with her own attacker, trying to pry it off the shaft of her polearm so that she can finish it. A twist of her hips throws the snail-shark and the pole into another attacker behind her, finally freeing her weapon.

Harry is standing to the side, watching everything with both hands up and pointed at the two of us. From earlier conversations, I know it�s his way of recording what is going on from two points-of-view. Even as I catch a glimpse of him, a snail-shark runs right past the reporter, ignoring Harry as it rushes toward me. Ali intercepts this one with a lightning bolt, sending it sprawling.

No more time to look. I refocus, flipping a conjured sword hand-over-hand at a monster while spinning around to attack with a third. Monsters. Monsters everywhere.

I wonder if their top fins taste good?

�Help!�

�Yeah. No,� I say, grinning as I watch Harry spin around on the thread that holds him in the air.

I casually throw a Blade Strike at an encroaching spider, keeping the monster from draining Harry. It�s not as if I want the man dead after all. But there is a certain amusement in watching the reporter spin about. At least the System doesn�t share much of our combat experience with him, not unless he actively takes part. Probably the only reason Mikito is willing to suffer his presence.

�Mikito!� Harry calls.

�Busy here,� Mikito says as she continues to raid the spider-bird nest.

Yes. Spider-bird. There�s a real name for these creatures, but considering whoever named them had vocal chords that were nothing like humanity�s, I�m going with spider-birds. On the other hand, their eggs are supposedly extremely tasty and in great demand at the local restaurants. The only problem is that they need to be carefully handled using a special type of glove and stored in a bag of the same material or else their flavor spoils.

�Ali, behind Harry,� I warn the Spirit.

The little fellow laughs and swoops right through Harry, making the reporter let out a little shriek. It amuses me to watch Ali do a Superman fly-through, punching the juvenile spider-bird that was trying to sneak up on the dangling reporter.

After he completes one more revolution, Harry�s face turns a little more green and his body arches as his mouth opens. I jump backward, dodging the explosion of vomit and snot that comes from the dangling reporter. He coughs and wheezes, the vomit and snot clogging up his breathing tract. At my nod, Ali flits back and burns off the threads, dropping the reporter.

Right onto his head. And his own discarded refuse.

What? He laughed at me first.

Down. Cut. Step. Knee in snout. Then extend foot and kick. Watch as cat-lizard creature goes flying into the thorny bush, impaling itself and dissolving on the acid and poison. Turn around, scan for threats, and realize there are none. All gone. Monsters dead. I exhale, shaking my head as I drop out of my fight mindset.

That�s when Ali sends the notification.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 24 as an Erethran Paladin. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 7 Free Attributes and 0 Class Skills to distribute.

One more Level. Sadly, it doesn�t change the equation of power very much, though I know in many ways that I�m shooting up Levels at an astonishing rate. Gaining a Level as a Master Class in the middle range should be at least a year of dedicated work on a Dungeon Planet. Not, you know, wandering around a curated city dungeon.

Rather than slowing down, my Leveling speed seems to have increased. At least for the amount of work I�m actually putting in. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly, the banked experience from my time in the Forbidden Zone is making a big difference. It�s one of the many reasons the Fist and other Master Classers like Forbidden Zones. Killing monsters in the Forbidden Zone is not only great for the higher amount of experience they offer but also allows the banked experience to be spread out over a period of time. Significant studies have been done to calculate the exact time-ratio benefits of time in Forbidden Zones to time in Dungeon Planets. A lot of those numbers even include details about the most common types of quests that Forbidden Zone entries provide.

The second reason is a matter of threats. I�m facing Master Level threats at times. At some point, I�ll even get a Master Level Quest. As such, I�m jumping up in Levels because I�m getting the experience that a Master Classer should be getting while I�m still the equivalent of a late-stage Advanced Classer at most. Mikito is benefitting too, but of course, she really is an Advanced Classer. This dungeon run is a good example of the weird imbalance between Levels, our Classes, and the actual threat level we face. Dangerous to be here? Sure. But deadly? No.

I dismiss those thoughts for now, glancing over my stats and the free attribute points I have available. At my level, the actual amount I gain from having free attributes is pretty small, especially when you consider the high number of points they�re meant to bolster. It�s one thing to add three points when you�ve only got ten. Another when you already have three hundred.

It�s why one of the leveling recommendations bantered around�mostly theoretically by a bunch of Advanced Classers, I�ll admit�is to ignore high attributes and instead bolster lower ones. In my case, it would be either Charisma, Perception, or my lowest attribute, Luck. The theory is that since you�re going to be so insanely out-classed in attributes by a Master Class who has already been focused on those high attributes�for example, a Mage in Intelligence, a fighter in Strength, a rifleman in Agility�it�s better to upgrade lower attributes so that you have an advantage over them in other ways. So against a fighter whose focus is Strength, having more Luck might give you the edge. Or a higher Perception, allowing you to notice what the Mage is going to cast before he finishes.

It�s an interesting Leveling strategy, countered by the point that given enough time, a Soldier who doesn�t grow his Agility will likely be out-Agilitied by even an Advanced Fighter. Then again, there�s the point that for most Master Classers, gaining Levels is difficult. So in many ways, the attributes they�re looking at are the last attributes they can ever expect. If you knew you could never again change your build, what would you shore up?

An interesting theoretical discussion, but not for me. I know I�m going to Level up. By skipping the Basic Class entirely, my Leveling speed will continue to be high until I hit Heroic. At that point, I can expect things to slow down. On the other hand, I also know I am literally fifty Levels�the entirety of the Basic Class�underpowered compared to most Master Classes. The good news is that most Basic Classes only give a relatively small number of points per Level. Add the fact that I have my prestige Classes, and the gap in attributes at least isn�t horrible. Except when facing a Master Classer who has managed to make his way up via prestige Classes.

In the end, the question for me is whether to double-down to catch up or reinforce for the surprise factor and target others� weaknesses? Put that way, it�s pretty simple. I can�t afford to fight my enemies head-on. I win�I�ve always won�by coming at things sideways.

So I dump the points into Charisma, Luck, and Perception and confirm the change. No Class Skills to allocate this time, though I�ll have one next Level. Of course, I�d rather leave the Class Skill Point unallocated if circumstances allow. Being able to adjust my build to suit the situation, no matter how slightly, is kind of useful. But that strategy is getting dangerous as my enemies get more and more powerful.

Dismissing my Status screen, I turn toward my friends. �Shall we get going?�

Hours go by. After a while, we stopped heading parallel to the portal location and instead headed in deeper. As we do, the monster types we deal with grow bigger and larger. Some notable new monsters include a Cerberus-like lizard creature whose heads wield a variety of elemental powers. Occasionally those heads seem to conjure a particularly powerful combination, like the monster with wind, force, and fire heads that combined its attacks into plasma beams.

Then there are the various bear-like variants. Lizard-owlbears. Fish-bears. Snake-bear with triple heads. Of course, could you call something a bear if it was covered with scales, had paws but shot electricity off its gilled-and-snouted head?

That�s the thing about trying to use human or human-mythological equivalents. Of course, some of those human mythologies or artwork came through via Mana bleed. But just as many don�t have popular names. Or are just wrong.

On the other hand, I�m impressed by this latest monster. Very, very impressed by the giant, red-skinned-and-horned humanoid standing in front of us. Cloven feet, muscles that would make Conan cry, and a bladed whip held casually as smoke dribbles from its overly-large nostrils. It�s lacking the wings of a balrog, and its horns curl up like a sheep�s more than stick out like an elk�s. I�ll admit, I�m almost curious if the horns drop every year. How weird would that be, to be a demon that had to regrow your headpiece each year?

�John?� Mikito prods my side.

�Sorry. Just thinking,� I say. �Think we can take it?�

Mikito�s lips purse as she stares at the monster�s status. I review it once again to remind me of the trouble we�re looking at.

Greater Forest Demon (Level 103)

HP: 7183/7183

MP: 789/789

Conditions: Burning Aura, Vengeance, Demon Thralls, Pain to Blood, Heroic Regeneration

The Burning Aura would be a pain. Just looking at the scorched earth in the clearing the monster stood within gave an idea of what the aura did. Other than the vegetation that had grown to thrive in the extreme heat, there was nothing but churned earth and ash around the monster. I did wonder if he stayed in one location or if the Demon was nomadic. And if so, how did the vegetation survive? Then again, most of the vegetation around here was particularly resistant to being burnt down. Perhaps it could survive short-term contact with the Aura.

�Ali?�

�You�re going to have hit him and keep hitting him. If you let the demon take a break, its Heroic Regeneration will fill in its health. Your Penetration Skills will be less useful too. Its Pain to Blood ability converts damage to health rather than stopping the damage entirely.� Ali looks at Mikito�s naginata before he asks hesitantly, �Neither one of you bought a regeneration block Skill, did you?�

�Poison,� Mikito answers succinctly.

�Nope. I got Freezing Blade, which should be a little more effective here. I could hit it with a couple of Army of Ones.� No matter how tough its regeneration is, I can guarantee a couple of my Class Skills would take it out. If I can make all my blades hit. Which isn�t impossible.

�I�d be careful with that,� Ali says, staring at a screen in front of him. �The Demon�s got a Rage ability that�ll allow it to ignore damage for a period. And another that will allow it to stop damage from any one Skill or spell source.�

My jaw drops. �What? How the hell is that even fair?�

�It�s a level 100+ monster,� Ali says with a roll of his eyes. �They all have their own gimmicks.�

�Can I buy a Skill neutralizer like that?� Mikito asks.

�Of course. Neutralizers are relatively cheap. You can even pick ones that target only a certain class of Skills,� Ali says. �Oh, and Harry? You might want to back off a little. It�s got a ton of area effect attacks.�

�All right, if we�re going to do this�� I review what I know.

The group inches closer together, and we plot out our plan of attack. It�s almost a luxury, having the opportunity to plan a fight like this. It kind of makes me realize why some of the Galactics I�ve fought before seemed so slow at adapting. If this is their experience when dealing with monsters, then they really aren�t used to sudden changes or surprise attacks.

Crouched in front of the monster, I find myself chuckling at the �plan� I put together. Really, it isn�t that complicated�the vast majority of the time was spent discussing the various Skills the monster is known to use, their telltale signs if we had the knowledge, and our reactions. The actual tactic is a basic flanking attack that I�ll start. Nothing like my insane plans to lure monsters into traps, stick myself into their gullets, or trap them in constantly teleporting Portals. This is a straight-up bash-and-mash. I�d feel guilty about it, but I�ve come to the realization that my tendency toward unconventional solutions mostly had to do with being significantly underpowered.

When you can bash-and-mash, why go through all that trouble?

�Ready.�

�Eight more minutes and I�ll be done with my latest episode. I really want to know if they got enough gold.�

�Camera�s set up.�

Obviously, I ignore Ali and Harry�s respectively inane and useless comments.

I call down the Beacon of the Angels, letting the entire thing start up high as it prefers to do. This has the added advantage of allowing the attack to come from outside the Demon�s visual range.

Which is why the first the Demon knows it�s under attack is a beam of solid white-blue light slamming into it and its surroundings, destroying vegetation and burning skin and muscle. Damage piles up, but I can see its health recovering immediately. I jump out of hiding, crossing the ground to it even as I call up my next attack.

Army of One creates a swirl of blades all around me, swords forming as they ready to strike. The slight lag for the Skill to take full effect is why I didn�t start with it. Also, there�s a certain lack of subtlety when you have a dozen swords around you.

When the Beacon of the Angels finishes, the Demon is snarling at me, crouched low as its body steams. Arcs of compressed power slash outward, edged with the light blue of my Mana Blade. One after the other, they impact the creature�s body. Unfortunately, its health bar doesn�t move, no matter how many blows land. I stare into the Greater Demon�s glowing eyes, watching as its ability negates all the damage. Even as my Skill dies down, the earth around the monster is glowing and melted. The creature�s health continues to tick up. Thankfully, Ali warned me about this, so I don�t hesitate and toss a pair of grenades.

Rather than focus on my attacks, the monster throws its head back and howls. Ali takes position up high, watching for the minions that must be coming. He�and thus me�have the perfect Spirit-eye-view to see Mikito launch herself through the air, naginata pointed at the monster�s back. Even as we watch, the blade of the naginata grows, dwarfing its original size and blazing red. The extended blade plunges into the Demon�s back, parting skin and bone before the true blade enters, all powered by Mikito�s weight and momentum. A little status update appears above the creature�s head, a sign that it has been poisoned. It�s only a minor debuff to slow the damn thing�s ridiculous regeneration rate, but it�s better than nothing.

The Demon roars, twirling and dislodging Mikito. She flips backward, just dodging the creature�s arm as she does so. Already, the oversized blade is shrinking to a more useful size. I�m not letting up either, running forward as the grenades finally explode and pepper the monster with frozen metal and shards of elemental ice. I trigger the QSM as I run, letting the explosion pass through me.

Split off from its dimension by the QSM, I only have the barest presence and am entirely invisible to the Demon. I time my reappearance for when it�s committed to an attack on Mikito, and I use a double-handed grip on my sword to chop into its hamstring. At the same time, I conjure up the remainder of my blades so that they can follow along.

Chopping into the Demon�s flesh is like chopping into a particularly thick tree that burns back. Even leveraging my body and twisting with my hips, my blade catches halfway through the monster�s body even as layers of skin, fat, and muscle part. The Freezing Blade spell I layered on takes effect, spreading a chill through the Demon and slowing it slightly. Flames erupt from the creature�s flesh, wrapping around my blade as I struggle to free it. I throw myself into a twisting jump, getting my feet on the creature�s lower back and kicking sideways and backward to dislodge the blade. I could abandon the weapon, but I�d have to layer my Freezing Blade spell on the newly formed weapon, wasting time and Mana.

�Oy! Shut up,� Ali says, gesturing downward and sending a dozen Mana Darts into the Demon�s still-screaming face. It�s more distraction and annoyance than actual damage, but every little bit helps. �As for you guys� incoming. I�ve got the east.�

I roll, coming up onto my knees facing the west of the clearing just in time to spot the first of the bobbing thralls. Their loping gait makes them appear and disappear. Each of the monsters are mini-versions of the Greater Demon, with smaller curling horns and longer, apelike arms.

Lesser Forest Demon (Level 47)

HP: 987/987

MP: 302//321

Conditions: Enthralled, Lesser Burning Aura, Flame Skin

Even as I stare at the monster, I can see out of the corner of my eye the heatwaves rolling around and attempting to burn down my Soul Shield. I ignore them, getting a quick count of the incoming demons as I move forward, charging up my spell in one free hand.

�Go die, you inconvenient monkeys.� I raise my left hand, releasing the Enhanced Lightning Strike as the first monster reaches the ten-meter range. Lightning arcs outward, jumping from Lesser Demon to Lesser Demon as I extend a portion of my concentration and affinity to super-charge the Demons and the space between. I marvel at my ability to do so even as the spell flash-fries the creatures and my Mana drops like a rock.

�Duck!� Mikito shouts.

I duck low and flicker the vision options in my helmet. Nice little option, though I normally leave it shrunk. It�s incredibly distracting in a fight. In either case, I get to see the Greater Forest Demon being shoulder-tossed by a tiny Samurai into Ali, who gets bowled over. The Spirit, unused to being fully materialized, reacts too slowly, so he gets pancaked along with the thralls he had spell-shackled.

�Tell me you got that,� I say.

�Recorded,� Harry says as he tries to hold back his laughter.

I grin, turning my attention back to the twitching monsters. I disperse the last of the Enhanced Lightning Strike, and the creatures begin to recover until I throw my next spell�Ice Storm. As I guessed, the creatures are vulnerable to the cold spell, damage piling upon their smoking bodies. The lead trio collapse under the onslaught even as I pick off the rest of the horde with Blade Strikes and the occasional spell.

All the while, I hear the crunch and snick, the meaty thud of blade meeting flesh, and the roaring, panting growls of the Greater Forest Demon behind me. I focus on finishing my side as quickly as I can, knowing that if I leave these creatures alone, they�ll regenerate before I can finish dealing with them.

Long seconds pass, each second punctuated by the battle behind me. In my antiseptic, filtered helmet, I can only rely on the noise, the vibrations of the earth, and the occasional gust of wind to inform me of what is happening. A final Blade Strike cuts apart the last monster, and I spin around to aid my friend, layering another Soul Shield on myself to deal with the flaming aura.

Mikito is doing well, engaged in exactly the kind of battle she excels in. A single humanoid opponent, bigger and stronger than her but certainly not faster. Her polearm gives her the reach to deal with the creature�s attacks, and when it closes, her knowledge of close-combat martial arts lets her deal a series of blows before she disengages again.

All across the monster�s body, red pus slowly dribbles from open wounds, the creature�s yellow blood dotting the ground along with the pus. Even its massive regeneration seems to be taking a hit as Mikito�s multiple stacks of poison take effect. Still, with nearly two-thirds of the monster�s health left, taking it down would be a grind if she were left to deal with this alone.

Since Ali�s finishing off his side of the thrall problem, I step in. Rushing forward, I dodge an outstretched leg and cut upward, scoring its buttocks and leaving a trail of ice. I skid to a stop and cut sideways again before I throw myself into a backflip to dodge a pounding arm. I stumble as the blow that was targeted at the earth forces cracks to appear in the ground�from which flames erupt. My Soul Shield fails under the sudden attack, and the heat scorches my skin.

�Goblin shit,� I swear, getting my feet back under me.

I engage my Aura and the Vanguard ability, boosting everyone�s abilities. My actions draw the monster�s focus to me, and I trigger Society�s Web for a second. Numerous threads reach out from the monster, leading to its various thralls. I watch as the threads jump and twitch as they close in on us.

�Tanking now!� I inform the group even as I rush forward to meet the monster.

This will be a grind. Its resistances and Skills force us to take this entire battle slowly, grinding it down rather than finishing it in one attack. And the longer we fight, the more Lesser Demons make their way over.

Time to pile on the damage.

Those who have never been in a duel or a fight think that they�re long, drawn-out affairs. Part of that is the way fighters talk of their fights, outlining each punch, each kick. In the heat of the battle, each fight seems to take forever. Each punch, each cut, each blow is thought over, planned, and committed to with care if you�re experienced. If you�re not, the entire thing lasts an eternity�for very different, painful reasons. Each moment in a fight seems to last longer when you�re fighting for your life. And yet when you�re out of the fight, when it�s over, that eternity could have been only a minute. Or five. Almost never more than that. Almost.

The Greater Forest Demon finally falls, Mikito�s naginata stuck in its heart and three of my blades left in its body. Over half of its body is frozen from Freezing Blade while the red pus boils out from its nostrils and ears. The Lesser Demon thralls stumble to a stop as the boss falls, long hands hanging low as they gibber and jabber at one another. I stare at the dying light in the Greater Demon�s eyes, the way its body slowly loses the green illumination that shrouded it.

The monster slowly topples overs, and the light of sentience in it flickers off like a flashlight. For a moment, a long-forgotten, long-lost emotion tugs at my heart. Pity. For the monster. Exactly where do we draw the line between needless cruelty and necessity? The Greater Forest Demon lived in this dungeon peacefully, a master of its environment. Then we invaders wandered in, killing and murdering its friends, its family, and the ecosystem until we found it. After which we froze, electrocuted, and poisoned it to death. For what?

A large chunk of experience, its loot, and its corpse? Standing over its corpse, I wonder what difference there is between me and the monsters I fought. What right did I have to think of myself better, to rage against their actions?

I loot the corpse, laying my hand on the creature�s surprisingly smooth skin. I hesitate, then I make the corpse disappear into my Altered Space with a sigh. Perhaps I am no better. Perhaps I am but another damn hypocrite.

That�s what the System makes us all. Murderers and killers, partakers of slaughter, and revelers of blood. Just another damn System-citizen. A partaker of cruelty and carnage. I draw a deep breath and stand, regret feeding my personal pit of rage.

�John?� Mikito�s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I look at her, offering her a sad half-smile. �I�m fine. Let�s keep going.�

She nods and we lope off, heading in deeper. Looking for another fight. Another death. Like the hypocrites that we are. That I am.

Redeemer of the Dead indeed.

Chapter 8

�The Redeemer of the Dead. I expected you to be taller.�

�Sorry to disappoint,� I say, inclining my head slightly as I stand at wary rest. Wary because this appointment with the damn Representative for Duchess Kangana is not something I�m thrilled about. Even more so when it�s not Priya I�m meeting but somehow, Hondo, the Weaponmaster, is still here. Here, present, and glowering at me with undisguised fury.

�Not your fault. I�m just surprised that someone so� small� was able to send the famed Master of Blades and Guns flying.� There�s nary a twitch as the Truinnar Envoy speaks. The dark skin, pointed ears, and pale white hair give the woman a stately, elegant air. It�s a bit of a contrast to what she wears�a ball gown that�d be more appropriate in a Civil War movie with all its ruffles, hooped skirt, and corset work.

My eyes narrow, flicking to Hondo. But the Weaponmaster is too damn professional to show anything on his face. On the other hand, with my Social Web activated, it�s easy enough to see his increased anger and deepening resentment. A lot of that anger radiates toward me, the Envoy, and so many other strings. It�s kind of humbling. I often think of myself as this ocean of rage, but next to him, I�m just a little sea.

�If you�re here to taunt the Weaponmaster, I really don�t need to be here. If you�re here to taunt me, I don�t want to be here. So state your intentions or I walk.�

�Johnathan!� Katherine says in a scandalized tone.

I shrug at the woman, unwilling to compromise.

�As blunt as your reputation,� the Envoy says.

I sigh, taking the time to review her Status while she continues to patronize me.

Viscountess Oria Weekamu, Representative of Duchess Kangana, Envoy for Duchess Kangana, The Belle of L�mu, Thrice Chosen Dancer of the Leaves, � (Level 38 ???)

HP: ??/??

MP: ??/??

Conditions: ???

Typical. I wonder if it�s a Skill or an enchanted piece.

�As for my reason to speak with you both, I wanted to verify why my cousin felt the need to invest so much of our influence and his personal attention on such a piddly little planet. Dungeon World or not, the returns on our investment of influence seem disproportionate. Still.�

�Still?� Katherine says softly.

�Still, I will make full use of you.� Oria leans forward, meeting our gazes. �There will be a need for your services. If you accept the request, you will be properly compensated. And, of course, your people will have access to the locations they have shown interest in.�

Katherine smiles at that, obviously perking up a little. Me, I�m still wary since the woman is taking so long to get to the point.

�We want you to speak with the populace of the exterior rings of Irvina. We will make arrangements for such group meetings. You will sell the development of your world, the opportunities available to those who are willing,� Oria says.

�Pardon?� I say, my jaw dropping. When she said request, my mind went to a variety of monster kill quests, maybe a collection quest, or hell, even a fight in the Arena. Public speaking was the last thing on my mind.

Oria snorts gently and waves a gloved hand, answering me with a notification screen.

Quest Offered: Increase the number of immigrants from Irvina

Visit the fifth and farther rings of Irvina. Meet with and speak to the citizens of these rings. Sell the opportunities and benefits of moving to the newly opened Dungeon World Earth.

Objective: 50,000 new immigrants above general trendline

�This is an interesting quest,� Katherine says, her eyes going over the information. �But I�m uncertain why you are offering it to us.�

�Politics.�

We stare at Oria, who meets our gazes languidly. Katherine smiles slightly, sipping on her tea casually, patient as can be. I�m less patient by nature, but I�ve learned to manage that part of me. Also, my new Skill offers a myriad of interesting threads to look at. While I�ve gotten to the point where I can take in all the threads and get a general idea with just a glance at an individual, the details still take time to process. And it�s in the details where you can see the intricacies.

The obvious big thread is between Oria and the Duchess. There�s almost fanatical loyalty, love, and trust in there. A little envy too, but it�s overshadowed by the deep, long-lying contract and obligation between the two. Obligations. My brows furrow as I stare, trying to assess the thread further. Surprisingly, unlike many employer-employee relationships, the obligations and contract seems to weigh down on both ends.

Interesting as that thread is, there are others of interest. The one between her and the Weaponmaster is laced with complex emotions. Obligations and duty, contempt and envy. It�s multi-layered, but it�s obvious Hondo is the servant in this relationship. If not for his control, he�d probably be snarling in her face.

Yet those aren�t the only answers I get. The only clues. I see lines of obligation leading to individuals, groups, and organizations I�ve never heard of. And many that I have. I assess the way they tug at Oria, pull upon her, and the obligations that tie her up.

�It is rude to view another�s secrets in that way, Redeemer,� Oria says.

�If you�re not talking, I�m going to find my own answers.�

�Answers.� Oria�s voice is flat, but Hondo perks up a little, staring straight at me. �And what kind of answers have you found?�

�Well��

�This is to help smooth out the issues we caused with the Fist, isn�t it?� Katherine says softly, cutting in. �You�re looking to shore up the position of the Galactic Edge at the same time. Your wish to reinforce the perception that Dungeon Worlds are good, that combat and the goals of the Fist are beneficial. Both of which are positions that both the Galactic Edge and the Fist hold.�

�My, you are a smart one,� Oria says. �But such a simplistic evaluation will do you little good in the arena you are in.�

Katherine inclines her head, offering a courteous smile. �Of course. I�m still learning the details of the political situation. But if my understanding is correct, you also owe City Councilman Uss a favor. Whose main opponent�s backing for the upcoming city election comes from the disaffected in the lower rings. Though fifty thousand seems like a small drop in the bucket.�

Oria smiles at Katherine, not giving away a single hint. But with names and details provided, I can make a little more sense. I need a lot more context, but I get the feeling that Oria is playing both sides of the coin, or maybe all the sides of the hexagon. Repaying a little obligation here, getting a little favor from us there, removing some credibility from Uss�s opponent, and more.

�You got anything to add?�

�Not really. Galactic Politics are a pain. The last time I was a companion to something in the game was over four hundred years ago. And by the time it died, it wasn�t relevant anymore. Hadn�t been for the last eighty years. Alliances and friendships change every damn week. But I�d say Katherine�s only scratching the surface here.�

�Sounds like this is a deal we can take,� I say, mentally acknowledging the quest. Hell, if I don�t need to kill anyone, this is certainly doable. In fact, it�ll make a nice change.

�Good. Details will be sent to you,� Oria says, dismissing us after Katherine acknowledges her agreement too.

We back out soon after, me having never taken a seat. Even that fraction of a second difference might have meant my death, with Hondo glowering as hard as he was.

Outside, in our private bubble car, I find myself questioning Katherine.

�I don�t know, John,� Katherine says exasperatedly. �I�ve only been here for a week. Working out the intricacies of the alliances and politics in this city in that time frame is impossible. Frankly, if we can manage not to get taken for too much of a ride in the next year, we�ll all be happy.�

�A year?�

�Yes, a year,� Katherine says frostily. �What? You think getting a vote meant much? Sure, we now have control over Earth and some controls and regulations, but the politics are complex. There are thousands of seats on the Galactic Council and hundreds of votes every month. Earth has abstained from all votes thus far, but even keeping up with the reading for those is taxing my people. As for alliances and the deals they�re all making?� Katherine waves to indicate the sprawling skyscraper city with its myriad jutting spires, floating squares, and flying ships. �We�ve just got to make do as best we can.�

�Sorry.� I incline my head, leaning back. It�s not as if I didn�t know how difficult it would be. But knowing and doing were two different things. �I just hate going in dark.�

�Well, it should be mostly non-violent,� Katherine offers.

I snort, my cynical side doubting that. But really, I�m just giving a few talks. How hard could it be?

�No. Not happening,� Mikito states.

�Come on, just for a few of the first meetings?� I try to keep from sounding like I�m begging, even if I am. A bit.

�Do you expect to get into a fight?�

�I always expect to get into fights.�

�Firstly, not true. Secondly, that�s a pathetic attempt at a lie. Thirdly, with people you can�t handle?�

I cough, looking slightly embarrassed. Fine. I�ll be speaking to a bunch of Basic Classers. Even if they all ganged up on me, I was pretty certain I could survive. �Come on. They�re asking me to talk about Earth. In public.�

�And how�s that my problem?� Mikito says.

�Because you�re my friend?�

�No,� Mikito says. �Now, if that�s it, I need to make it to the Guild before all the groups looking for others are filled. You don�t need me there. And I don�t want to be.�

�I do need you!� I protest. �For� moral support.�

Mikito doesn�t even deign to answer that, walking out of our apartment. I groan, leaning back in the chair, only to realize I�m not alone.

�How long have you been there?� I say, frowning. I�m still trying to figure out how Harry managed to get a room in the apartment, though I�m not exactly asking the question. Just idly wondering. The reporter�s kind of like a bad foot fungus. Every time you think you�ve gotten rid of it, it reappears.

�Since the start of the conversation,� Harry says. �Why did you want Mikito with you?�

�Why not?� I look over the list of speaking locations and times that prompted this conversation. Oria acted fast, sending this entire list a day after our initial meeting. The first of my scheduled appearances just happens to be later today. �If I have to suffer, it�s good to spread the pain around.�

There�s a long silence after that pronouncement before Harry smiles. �No need to try to convince me. I want to see the sixth ring anyway.�

�Okay.�

�What�s with the different welcome?� Harry says, crossing his arms.

�Eh, you�re recording everything, right? Boy-o here�s not a big fan of that,� Ali says, cutting in as he stretches. �Also, you just ain�t his type.�

�I admit, I�m not as muscular or handsome as Lord Roxley, but� wait. Why am I arguing with you about this? I�m not even attracted to men,� Harry says huffily.

�Not even a little bit?� Ali teases.

�Not even a little bit. Journalistic Integrity allows me to ignore mental and Charisma-based influences. I stacked that with Calm Mind,� Harry says. �But out of curiosity, what is John�s type?�

�I�m right here, you know?� I glare at the two of them. Not that me speaking will make them stop, but a man can hope.

�Taller. Also, you need to give him a little rush, you know? John�s a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Likes the bad boys��

�And I�m out,� I snarl and walk out of the room.

Yes, I could dismiss Ali. But knowing the damn Spirit, he�d spill something even more private when I eventually dragged him back. And really, I sort of trust Harry to keep his correspondence to the relevant parts. The man has made a name for himself by reporting on actual wars and combat, real investigative journalism. Not the gossip pages.

The idiot pair catch up to me by the time I exit the private bubble car that took me to the outskirts. Thankfully, the System mixes nicely with the tech advances in Irvina, allowing something as convenient as sending the address to the car over the System. Once inside, the trip itself was uneventful.

Outside the bubble car, once I move away from the main drop-off location for this particular high rise, the environment changes entirely, a stark contrast to the second and third rings. The first thing that strikes me are the Levels. In another world, another time, going to the bad part of town meant the first thing I�d notice would be the strewn garbage and omnipresent graffiti, the smell of urine and feces, of rotting food and unwashed bodies. Here, all but the most depressed have access to the Clean spell. The System absorbs and clears out any building that is willing to tithe a small portion of its regular Mana upkeep. Since there�s little that most buildings can do with that Mana, that means all buildings are clean and tidy. Even discarded refuse gets absorbed by the System.

In this System world, it�s the people who tell the story. Levels are the first indicator�everyone I see is a Basic Class. A large number of those are non-combatants. And since combat, risking your life in dungeons and in the wilds, is the fastest and easiest way to Level, a society weighed heavily toward non-Combatants is going to be low-Leveled. Never mind the fact that you need a healthy proportion of combatants in any society, since they�re the main resource generators of a System world.

Need food? Send a Combat Classer to kill a monster. Monster meat is both tastier and more nutritious than domesticated meat. Need materials for your craft? Send a Combat Classer to kill a monster. You could work with metal, but the returns from that end pretty soon. Need money? Send a Combat Classer to kill a monster.

Levels and Classes are a good indicator of the state of a group of individuals, but there are other signs too. In the third ring, every damn Adventurer is wearing high-class combat equipment. With the right Skills, you could even pull up their individual equipment stats and see that each piece is System-registered. Heck, many of the more successful Adventurers run around with handmade equipment, fully enchanted. Their clothing, their equipment is as much a public statement of their success as they are utility items.

Out here though, most of the clothing is mass-produced work made by machines that are barely registered with the System, if at all. None of the equipment has any stats or offers anything but a fig leaf of protection. In fact, considering how some fig trees have evolved, the equipment here offers less in some cases. No, the people in the seventh ring have no time or desire to buy �good� equipment.

�What a shithole,� Ali says as he floats up to me. His loud and rude proclamation gets a few looks, but no one makes a move to deal with the floating Spirit.

In fact, a very excited gnome�which is the hallmark of tiny cuteness, by the way�is bouncing up and down and pointing at the floating Spirit. �Mama. Mama. Look! A Spirit. Just like the screens!�

�Oh, great gears above. Don�t point. He�s probably a bounty hunter. We don�t want them to come after us.�

I frown slightly, overhearing the conversation but dismissing it. Nothing I can do but move on, leaving the poor family to themselves.

As I walk, Harry rushes up, muttering softly, �They�re afraid of you.�

�Of us,� I say and incline my head.

As expected, a bunch of toughs stand at the side, watching us carefully. They�re not moving to obstruct us though�probably because the highest-Level tough is only in his high 30s.

�How the hell are their Levels so low?� I say softly to Ali and Harry. Jesus. I knew layabouts on Earth who had Levels like theirs. And we�d only been in the System for five years.

�Lack of motivation and opportunity,� Ali says. �The first is self-explanatory. The second has to do with why we�re here. As you know, if you�re a Combat Classer, you can�t get into dungeons without joining a guild, and most guilds receive more base-Level applicants than they need. So unless you�ve got a good Class or great base attributes, you�re stuck running down vermin.�

�Vermin?� Harry says.

�Mutated cockroaches, rats, and the like�alien version, that is,� Ali says. �To keep the city expanding and the area controlled by the city orb in line, Irvina has increased the minimum threshold for Mana fluctuations. It allows the city to expand their borders faster but means that low-Level spawning still occurs in public areas. Every century or so, the city decides to create some robots to deal with the problem, but those robots get badly mangled.�

�By the residents, right?� Harry nods as if that makes perfect sense to him.

�So everyone fights for the right to get into the guilds. And, what? The middle class buys their children better Skills?� I say, trying to piece together the logic.

�Definitely. You saw that with the Hakarta and Yerrick a little. Though they�re a little more community-driven,� Ali says. �There are exceptions to the dungeon rules to give the lower strata access though. Some of the lowest-tier dungeons host school days and dungeon runs for the kids to level. Then there are private dungeon runners. They�re not as extensive or as good, but��

�But they�re available and will get people combat experience,� I say, realizing the difference a little Credit can make. �What are these private dungeons like?�

�Depends. Everything from a single padded room with a monster they let you fight and kill for a fee to ones like the guild�s training rooms, which actually run you through scenarios. No experience, but you get trainers and coaches� tips. The largest are multi-floor edifices that host a bunch of captured monsters. There are even monster breeders who work for them,� Ali says.

�Weird. So, what? Don�t people just kill the monsters and get better experience? Isn�t that a way to buy Levels?� Harry says.

I get a moment of d�j� vu, wondering if I�ve ever had this conversation, before Ali answers. �Sort of? Real monsters collect more unfiltered Mana, which gives more experience when you kill them. Also, don�t forget that the System disincentivizes safe fighting. Private dungeons are literally the pinnacle of safe for a dungeon. There�s a point where the experience penalties and experience requirements make it ridiculous to keep growing.

�And as boy-o will tell you, there�s nothing like actually risking your life to hone your skills. Fighting and Leveling in a safe, happy environment won�t do much for your skills. There�s an edge you lack, and that edge matters at the highest Levels.�

Harry nods and mutters to himself, making notes.

Meanwhile, we take the next left, heading down the long corridors as we tread through the building. Lining the corridor on both sides are retail shops, their windows doing their best to attract attention. It reminds me so much of walking in an eclectic shopping mall on Earth. The shops are varied and familiar�clothing, weapons, toys, more clothing, a blacksmith, a potionologist, a massage parlor, battle jackets, and a martial arts training center. Of course, there are stores that are a little more exotic�the full-body hair solution with award-winning scale buffing, the pet store with exotic pets including slimes, bred mini-manticores, and mini two-tailed cat-monsters. So many shops with people flowing in and out, getting on with their lives.

�So where are the Combat Classers?� Harry says, eyeing the area.

�Out. Grinding mostly. Or training,� Ali says softly. �Even if the competition is high, you�ve got to be out there to find anything.�

�And if you don�t?� I say, cocking my head. Back on Earth, starvation took a while to set in thanks to our Constitution buffs. I assume it�s the same here. Credits do make the world go around, and if you�re a Combat Classer, killing things is how you make money. If you don�t hunt, you don�t eat. Add in the high cost of rent and I�m wondering how they�re making ends meet.

�The Council has no place for the useless. Those who can�t pay for themselves are made into Serfs and geaes placed on them to ensure they don�t commit suicide. Then they�re re-educated to become productive servants,� Ali says, his voice growing entirely too serious.

�That�s a messed-up System,� Harry says.

�Oh? Is leaving them to fend for themselves on the streets better? At least we wipe out their Status ailments first, give them a mental or chemical rebalancing to ensure they�re more stable,� Ali says. �It�s not permanent, but so long as it happens regularly enough, they can be productive.�

�You keep using that word,� Harry says. �Brainwashing people isn�t right.�

�Maybe not, but the boy-o can tell you it�s for the best,� Ali says.

�What? Don�t drag me into this,� I say, breaking off my window shopping. I really don�t need a hoverboard. No matter how cool it looks. Or hoverboots. Well, okay, maybe those hover-cum-air-skating boots could come in handy. One danger of using Blink Step into the air is not being able to change direction. I�ve got my Flight spell, but it comes with the negative of using Mana and needing to be channeled. In the middle of a fight, it�s more difficult to complete.

�John!�

�I�m curious why enforced slavery is for the best,� Harry says, foot tapping as I continue to stare at the boots.

�Eh? Oh, it�s a System thing. The more people there are, the more Mana gets processed out through the environment. The better the processing, the less strain on the ecosystem and the System itself. Sentients are filters, Mana banks, and engines. The Mana gets taken in by us, processed, and filtered back to the System constantly. It�s why you�ve got a passive regeneration, because anything that overflows goes right into the System itself.�

Harry stands there, mouth gaping.

�What?� I ask.

�How do you know this? And why am I getting so many experience points?�

�System quest,� Ali and I say at the same time, then I chuckle at Harry�s expression. �And it�s because I read. A lot. It�s also not particularly hard to realize if you keep track of things. Atmospheric Mana needs to be processed. Sentients are the best processors by far. The more sentients there are equals better processing. Less atmospheric Mana, less random mutations and weird temporal and dimensional hijinks.�

�Temporal and dimensional hijinks?�

�Random monster teleportation, spawning, and lair creation,� Ali replies for me.

I make up my mind, glancing at the clock in my status screen to verify there�s enough time, and walk into the shop.

Harry hurries to follow, all the while talking to Ali. �Why does that sound like a Dungeon World?�

�What do you think Dungeon Worlds are? The Council picks a planet and floods it with Mana that should have gone to other locations, forcing those changes. That stabilizes Mana flow in other locations, creating an exit valve when the Mana flow surges. Unfortunately, if the Galactic Council doesn�t expand the borders or the population fast enough, well, all the worlds become Dungeon Worlds,� Ali says. �That�s pretty much what the Forbidden Zone is. Worlds where the ambient Mana levels have reached a point that they�re basically considered a Dungeon World. Except worse.�

�Worse?� Harry says, frowning. �And why not just expand the borders of the System?�

�Because we don�t necessarily control the flow of Mana. We control the System boundaries, but not Mana boundaries. There needs to be a sufficient amount of Mana density before we can expand the System there. At times, there just aren�t enough worlds. On top of that, while sentients are better, a Dungeon World is technically the best option. But if you leave a Dungeon World unchecked, it becomes a rupture in the System. So it�s necessary to have both sentients and a Dungeon World. Well, not necessary, but well advised.�

Harry nods, eyes focused on Ali in the way I�m fast coming to realize indicates he�s recording.

I ignore the conversation, instead making my desires known to the proprietor of the shop. In a short time, I�m testing out a variety of hoverboots for style and fit. In the end, I end up with something black and boring and looking a bit like a motorbike racer�s leathers crossed with cowboy boots. On the other hand, they�re slim, can alter color on command, and most importantly, are the best boots the store offers.

Simalax Hover Boots (Tier II)

A combination of hand-crafted materials and mass-produced components, the Simalax Hover Boots are the journeyman work of Magi-Technician Lok of Irvina. Enchantments and technology mesh together in the Simalax Hover Boots, offering its wearer the ability to tread on air briefly and defy gravity and sense.

Effects: User reduces gravitational effects by 0.218 SIG. User may, on activation, hover and skate during normal and mildly turbulent atmospheric conditions. User may also use the Simalax Hover Boots to triple jump in the air, engaging the anti-gravity and hover aspects at the same time.

Duration: 1.98 SI Hours.

�Thank you,� I say, slipping on the boots and dumping my old boots in my Inventory. I wave away their thanks, only showing my displeasure when I�m out of the store. �Ali, why were they so effusive in their thanks? They didn�t look to be doing that badly.�

�That�s because you bought his best work,� Ali says. When Harry and I continue to give Ali blank looks, the Spirit sighs dramatically. �He�s a crafter in the seventh ring. You bought his best work. He�s probably been sitting on that stock for months now and had to scrape and save to get the money to buy the materials in the first place. Now, with the boots sold, he can buy the material for another set, or for something new, and gain experience again for making it. Also, you bought them without bargaining.�

�I was supposed to bargain?� I say with a frown, looking backward. �But it was so cheap.�

�Nope. You overpaid by, like, twelve percent,� Ali says. �We�re in the seventh ring, not Earth. No long-range transportation cost, no teleportation fees. No extra hazard insurance. It�s all cheaper here.�

�Huh,� I say then shrug. Ten thousand plus Credits was expensive, but just about what I got from running quests in the dungeon with Mikito. That doesn�t include the thousands of Credits I received for the various loot pieces and corpses. In that sense, getting cheated wasn�t a major problem. And if it makes their lives better, so be it. �Come on. We�re going to be late.�

�And whose fault is that?� Ali says.

I ignore the grumbling Spirit, picking up speed. Best make sure to arrive on time. Or early.

The first surprise is that the location is within a small corridor off the main thoroughfare. The second, that the address is for a meeting room rented out of someone�s co-working space. I�m a bit amused to see that this co-working space mostly caters to crafters, with multiple desks and work areas cordoned off from one another via enchantments rather than a slew of random computers. Still�

�Redeemer of the Dead, John Lee? Yes. Meeting room three. Take the first right, second door on the left,� the floating fish-creature that fishes the desk says through the electronic translator.

I�m a little surprised but follow its instructions. Ali�s chuckling while Harry�s peering around at the co-space, curiosity warring with his dedication to my story. Or Earth�s story. Hell, I don�t even know what he�s working on now.

Opening the door to the meeting room, I�m a little surprised by how small it is. It�s no bigger than a grade school classroom, maybe twenty feet across and fifteen wide. Numerous chairs are laid out, and a simple podium has been set up for my speech, but most importantly, the room is lacking a little in its most important characteristic.

�Where is everyone?� I say, eyeing the clock. We�ve got a good five minutes before the speech is meant to start, but seven people present isn�t a particularly impressive attendance record. �Are Galactics prone to being late?�

Certainly in Whitehorse, I�d have to give everyone another fifteen minutes. They might joke about Yukon time, but not a single damn meeting or event ever started on time.

�Not really. Maybe by five or so? Galactics are pretty punctual. Comes from the HUD clock,� Ali says.

I sigh and slump into a chair, letting my eyes drift downward. Fine. I can wait. Five minutes isn�t that long, especially since the Galactic-standard five minutes is just a touch shorter than ours�3.8 seconds to be exact. For the most part, it makes no real difference, since Ali helpfully translates everything for me and rounds it up. Not as if I�m an engineer or anything.

I might have my eyes half closed, but in truth, I�m evaluating the few attendees. Quickly, I come to a conclusion that there are three groups. Those who are, quite obviously, here for fun and food. Initially there was only one of them, but soon enough, he�s joined by a couple of others who hang around the free snacks at the side. The second group are those who look uncertain, individuals who have quite a few strong threads leading from them. Family, friends, obligations, contracts. I�m guessing they�re here to look and learn but are hesitant because their lives are entwined with others.

Unlike the third group. These are the ones who are openly checking out Harry and me, eyeballing us and our Statuses. This group makes up the largest number, roughly two-thirds of those present. Of course, by the time everyone else streams in�most coming in on the dot or close to it�we�ve got a total of fifteen attendees.

�Well. I guess that�s it,� I say, still slouched in my seat.

I stand and walk up to the podium. Instead of getting behind it, I put my elbow on the side and lean, letting my gaze rake over the audience. They�re a diverse bunch�male and female and things in between or just weird enough I don�t even want to guess. Mostly non-Combat Classers, though a small group of four in a corner are fighters. Strong ties between each other, not much else otherwise. I see no Hakarta or Yerrick here, just a bunch of gnomes, Truinnar, Movanna, lizardmen, a Dullahan, and some other weirder species. The only person who seems out of place is the Kobold in a vest-and-suit ensemble, standing by the door. Still, I sense no hostility.

�You�re all here because you want to know about Earth, the latest Dungeon World. My name is John Lee. I�m a human, a native of the Dungeon World. I�m also an Erethran Paladin. For those who don�t know, or can�t tell, that�s a Master Class. I achieved that in five years of fighting on Earth.� That last bit is a stretch, though most of my experience gains came from being on Earth. In fact, while in the Forbidden Zone, I never went up a single level.

�If you�re looking for a change, for a chance to grow and Level, Earth offers a lot of opportunities. Even for those of you who aren�t Combat Classers.� I let my gaze sweep over the group, noting that I�ve gotten the interest of some of them. I relax my hold on my Aura, letting it turn on, and flash them all a smile. Then I mentally kick myself when I see one of the Galactics recoil at my brazen aggressive act. Oops. �Now, let�s talk specifics��

I talk about the changes on Earth, the numerous monsters and dungeons and wide-open lands. I talk about languages and cultures, of food and the various groups in the world. I try to keep the last bit broader since there�s so much variation, but even then, the talk takes longer than I expected. After that, the questions come, many of them targeting areas I�d forgotten. For the most part, the answers are easy to provide. Then there are other questions which at first seem easy but get complicated.

�Which city do you think we should base ourselves from?� This question comes from the non-Combatant couple, an Alchemist and a Waste Processor.

�Where to ship in?� I frown, drumming my fingers on my leg. �That depends��

�Actually, Redeemer, I think I should answer that. Wiza of the Third Pors Immigration Company. We�re the one who booked this room,� Wiza, the Kobold, says as he flashes a toothy smile at everyone. �If you sign up with the Third Pors, we�ll handle all transportation, language, and cultural purchases required for a safe and ultimately fruitful immigration. Of course, we�ll also help assign you to the most appropriate locations on Earth. We, in fact, have deals with numerous local governmental authorities��

�I thought Oria booked this. And what�s this about signing up?� I send to Ali as I half-listen to Wiza give his spiel.

�Normal immigration policy for those who can�t afford it. They set up a Serf program for repayment, handle the employment and other skill purchases. Most of the people you�re going to talk to can�t afford the cost of flying themselves all the way to Earth,� Ali says.

�No loans?�

�For going to a Dungeon World? Har. No self-respecting loan company will give out Credits to someone who might be dead within an hour of walking onto the surface. The few who do use a very high interest rate,� Ali says. �At least with a Serf contract, they can dictate where and how their Serfs live. Keep their risks down.�

I frown but don�t interrupt Wiza�s speech. I don�t like it, not at all, but it�s not as if he�s forcing anyone to sign on. Then again, when your choice is a slow, grinding existence with little hope of ever getting better, is the only choice offered a choice anymore?

�For a group of Level 10s, how many Credits can we get per week? Safely, that is,� asks the leader of the Combat Classers. I feel weird for moment when the speaker doesn�t speak in broken English, considering he�s got big long ears, stands about three feet tall, and is green.

�Uhh�� I try to figure out how to answer that. Considering I haven�t been at that Level since, well, ever, it�s not something I even considered.

�Depends. How hard are you going to work? Which city are you in? You know, the usual things,� Harry says, stepping in. �But with a well-trained party of five, you could see two to three hundred Credits each.� As murmurs break out at that low amount, Harry continues, unperturbed. �But you have to remember, if you�re on Earth, your food cost is pretty close to nil. As for rent, it�d be maybe a hundred Credits each for a single detached house in a suburb.�

That, of course, ends up starting a long discussion about what a single detached residence is. We even have to get Ali to show off pictures of Earth. I swear, those pictures of sprawling lands and houses that aren�t connected to one another are what interest two-thirds of the group. And almost lose us the other third.

Conversations go on and on, and at the end, I spot Wiza passing on his contact information. Curiosity keeps me in the room until he�s done, as I answer a few more personal queries. Some of which I have to confess ignorance to. Like, how would I know if there are underscale cleaners yet?

When Wiza is finally done with his conversations, I break off from mine by the simple expedient of shoving Harry and Ali into the spotlight.

�You wished to speak with me, Redeemer?� Wiza says respectfully, inclining his doggy head to the side.

�A bit. I�d love to see that Serf contract you�re passing around.�

�I�m sorry, but that�s against company policy. Contracts are individualized for each contractee due to differences in Classes, Levels, and skills,� Wiza says with a lolling smile. �There�s no single contract to show, even if we were allowed to do so.�

�Yeah, I�ve heard that one before.� The gods know, employees the universe over love spitting out how there�s no regular contract, how every applicant is different. And then when you push them, of course, there�s a standard form everyone signs�with some minor concessions and a tiny band of what they�re willing to pay and negotiate within. �Try again.�

�It�s not possible, Redeemer,� Wiza says, straightening a little and meeting my gaze directly.

�Okay.� Wiza relaxes a little, so I hit him with my next question. �Can you highlight on this schedule which talks you�ve sponsored?�

�I have not sponsored anything directly, Redeemer. The Third Pors are the sponsors, but I can highlight our sponsorships,� Wiza says. A twitch of his fingers and the information is highlighted.

�Thanks.� While the schedule is still shared, I send a mental command that wipes them all from my schedule.

�Redeemer? What?�

�I don�t work with people who don�t trust me,� I say flatly, turning to walk away.

�Redeemer! Please. Wait. Let me talk to my supervisor��

�Send me the contract. Then we�ll talk,� I say over my shoulder, walking out with a little saunter.

Yeah, it�s a bit nasty to do that to an employee. But they�re contracting Serfs. Even if it is the way things are done here, I still can�t bring myself to like or accept the entire voluntary slavery thing.

Chapter 9

By the end of that evening, the multi-page contract arrives. Truth be told, any contract that needs a damn legal degree to understand always makes me wary, but this one is just plain painful to read. I have to stop numerous times to do the System equivalent of hitting the search engines to understand out what everything means. Well, understanding based off a layman�s skill. It doesn�t help that I�m doing most of it while wandering the sixth and seventh ring. A quick stop at the Shop helped solve the pressing issue of drawing too much attention.

Isekai�s Mask of the Unknown (Tier V)

A basic piece of equipment that provides a modicum of privacy for those looking to hide their actions. This is the most basic mask on offer and is not effective under intense scrutiny.

Effect: Conceals status information from low-level Basic Class Skills.

Cost: 500 Credits

Of course I could have spent more money, but there�s really no point. I�m not going to spend a ton of Credits trying to play rogue or assassin. My enemies will all send people with the appropriate Skills to break a casual purchase, and my Shrunken Footsteps Skill is already making it hard for others to track me. Layering another Skill on top of that, even an active Skill, would be a waste of Credits and Mana.

No, the mask is more a social convention. It�s a way of saying �I�m here to do private business� rather than to actually stop people who are truly interested. It also has the benefit of hiding my race�or at least my facial features. While I do attract a little attention with my mask, with Ali in invisible mode, most people just leave us alone. Which is all I want.

�Harry, have you seen other contracts?� I ask. I mean, I know I sent others out to serve sentences while I ran my settlements, but most of our contracts are pretty straightforward. It�s not as if we�re actually trying to keep them as slaves forever. In fact, in some ways, giving them a job, a direction, and a goal in life might be better.

Or maybe that�s my guilty conscience talking.

Harry�s lips press together. �Yeah. This one�s not that different. A few corporations were trying this on Earth about three years ago. Came through a bunch of major cities. Most of them were shut down pretty hard.�

�Shut down?� I say with a frown.

�Taxes. A lot of the settlement owners didn�t like their population being taken, so they taxed or otherwise restricted their operations. These days, they�re still around but, well, you know. Dungeon World.�

I nod, hating that Harry has a point. Earth being a Dungeon World means a lot of bad things happen. But one thing it provides that a world like Irvina doesn�t is a raft of opportunities. Combat Classers are actively encouraged to go out and fight, to raise their Levels as fast as they can. Non-Combat Classers�especially in the Basic Level�swim in the loot and other materials produced from non-stop combat. It only takes a little motivation to do well in a Dungeon World. But then, a little motivation is all that most people have. The final resting point might be higher, but most people end up stagnating in their Level gains after a while.

Doesn�t help that constant combat is a burden on the mind.

It�s why so many of the surviving humans are switching over to non-Combat Classes. Most people can only handle so much bloodshed and danger. It takes a toll emotionally, mentally, and yes, on one�s soul. With the slowly increasing number of Galactics, humanity has started offering quests and advice, guiding newcomers, and setting up stores. In many ways, I understand why they call us �NPCs��Non-Participating Classers.

Non-participating in the greater game. Non-participating in the sludge and drudge of Leveling up. There�s a point when growth becomes more hassle than it�s worth for most people, so while they might continue to climb, they do it slowly, gently. A slow grind rather than the mad dash of the motivated and desperate. When the choice is not to level.

�So. This isn�t that uncommon, but it still seems pretty horrible. Best I can see, even if it�s not a non-stop circle of debt and penalties, it�s a damn spiral,� I say. �Am I wrong?�

�Not really,� Ali answers. �These guys aren�t the worst, but they�re not great either. More reputable companies have better contracts, but because the contracts are better��

�They can pick and choose who they take,� I say. Of course, that meant that those who didn�t get in then went to the worse groups, so companies like Wiza�s had to acquire even higher costs to set up their new Serfs properly. That meant they had to get a higher return from any single Serf, resulting in stricter contracts and longer periods. It was a vicious cycle in a way, one that those at the bottom were forced to contend with.

�They�re shady moneylenders. All we need is a pawn shop�� Harry shuts up when Ali flashes a new map, highlighting a half-dozen locations nearby. �The more things change��

�It�s not as if there are that many ways of working an economy,� Ali says. �Especially when the System imposes its rules.�

I nod and finally discard the contract. At the end of the day, it�s not really something I can change. More importantly, the lack of audience today was a bit concerning. If we�re looking at fifteen people each meeting, that fifty thousand number will be a very, very long time in coming. �Hey, Ali, anything we can do to increase the number of people attending?�

�Why ask me?� Ali says with a snort. �Do I look like an event organizer?�

I look over my stalwart and sturdy companion, the linebacker with a beard in an orange suit. �Yeah, okay. Sorry. Harry?�

The reporter smiles ruefully, making me sigh.

Fine. In the end, we spend the rest of the day wandering, getting a feel for the sixth ring. I leave my Social Web on, drinking in the sights and sounds while letting a portion of my mind go over the question.

�Dungeon?� Mikito asks the next morning, leg propped up on a chair as she stretches.

�Definitely. Let�s try for deeper,� I say, rubbing my neck.

Last night was� interesting. A night out with the boys ended up with us checking out the Galactic equivalent of a dive bar�not recommended�a pod-racing show�fun but expensive�and finally a Galactic strip joint at Ali�s insistence. And we only ended up in the strip joint because Harry and I firmly turned down the suggestion of the brothel right next door.

�Okay,� Mikito says. �How was your day yesterday?�

�Ummm�� I pause halfway standing and shake off the sudden bout of paranoia. And the rather vivid image of a cat-girl grinding on me while a pair of male Truinnar made out on stage. �Boring. I�ll tell you about the speech on the way.�

�Okay.� Mikito sounds less than enthused but follows me out of the suite. �We leaving Harry?�

I cough, glad I�m not prone to blushing. �Yeah. He said he had more� research to do last night.�

�So. We repeating the same quests?�

�Might as well.�

Later that evening, we�re back at the guild with our haul of the day. The attendant is categorizing and working out our earnings, which really is only slowed down by the speed of me hauling everything out of my Altered Space. Strangely enough, Draco is here too.

�A decent haul for a two-party team,� Draco says, eyeing the screen in front of him. �That extra-dimensional storage space of yours is quite convenient. A lot of newer teams forget to account for the amount of space they�ll need.�

�Thank you. But I�m surprised to see the Vice-Guild Master on the floor personally,� I say, eyeing the lizardman carefully. Intuition tells me this isn�t a random visit.

�You shouldn�t be. I�m here to offer you a quest.�

Draco�s left eye blinks, and suddenly, I�m staring at a new notification window.

Quest Offered: Train with the Devil�s Flute and the Immortal Joes

The Devil�s Flute and the Immortal Joes have recently been formed from the remnants of four previous Adventuring teams. The Vice-Guild Master feels they require additional training to achieve a B-ranking. Your job is to beat the snot out of them till they learn how to work better together.

Reward: +5,000 Credits per training session, battle experience

Penalties: Loss in Reputation. Loss in Fame for declining Quest.

�Interesting.� I stare at Draco as I look over the information. �But don�t you have other people who could do this?�

�I do. But I also promised you training opportunities,� Draco says. �This is it. Both teams have very different makeups. It�s about time you trained against other sentients.�

I grunt, still not convinced.

�I�ll also authorize your use of guild housing,� he says.

Mikito�s eyes widen, and she unsubtly elbows me in the side. �You�ve hit your limit training with me, John. A martial artist needs variety in their training partners to get the most from their training.�

�I�m not a fighter,� I grumble.

�Yes, you are, Paladin. Or shall I say, Duellist?� Draco says. �I�d also point out that while you might have won against many on Earth, they are, like you, specialized monster killers. On Irvina are many who specialize in killing sentients.�

�You guys aren�t going to let up, are you?� I sigh, letting my shoulders slump in defeat. �Fine.�

Draco smiles while a new schedule appears in front of me. �Those are our current open slots in the training room. And those other schedules are the teams�. That is their contact information. I recommend you begin training as soon as possible.�

�As soon as possible, eh?� I say, eyeing the schedule. �Can you help?�

�Ugh. You are so damn lazy. I really wish KIM was still here. This was his kind of thing,� Ali sends back.

I can�t help but smirk. Within seconds, all three schedules and my own are lined up.

�How often do you want to do this?� Ali asks.

�How often do you want to hit the dungeon?� I ask Mikito instead.

Draco leaves when he sees me taking the entire thing seriously, and the pair of us step away from the attendant�s table to allow others access.

�I�m going in every day,� Mikito says. �Well, except when I�m scheduled for the Arena. But that�s very busy and I need to work my way up the rankings.�

�Rankings?� I say, my eyes growing wide. �It�s not dangerous, is it?�

�No, oyaji!� Mikito rolls her eyes. �It�s nowhere near as dangerous as challenging a Weaponmaster. Or a dragon. Or taking on monsters thirty levels higher. Or��

�I get it, I get it!� I hold my hands up in surrender. �Sorry. You show them what we humans can do, eh?�

�Of course.� Mikito grows grim. �It�s really good training. But the variety is a bit much sometimes��

�Just� yeah.� I shake my head, deciding not to add any more words of caution. The woman can kick my ass in a one-on-one fight if I don�t go all out, and she�s just getting better. Once she gets her Master Class, I have a feeling I�ll be entirely outclassed in close combat. �Let�s say every third day? For the dungeon?�

�Good enough for me,� Mikito says.

In a moment, I�ve got the new schedule set up. There are obviously times when I can�t do a full day with Mikito, and other times when I�m busy with my speeches. And of course I still want to spend time in the Questors� building. I wince slightly, staring at my suddenly-filled schedule, but push aside the hesitation. Really, leveling is important.

It takes only a single message before the rooms are booked and the Adventuring groups informed.

�Dinner?� Mikito asks, cocking her head toward me.

�No. I have a fight to get to.�

�Already?�

I shrug. Coincidence and weird timing made it all work. That, and a little chicanery by Ali. But in truth, the Spirit knows me well enough. After my last disgraceful showing against an Advanced team, I�m looking for payback.

�Let�s keep this simple for the first fight,� I call to the group when they finally make their way in. To reinforce my point, I finalize the command, and every single obstacle, impediment, and terrain feature fades back into the floor and walls, showing off the bare room.

The Devil�s Flute arrays themselves before me, finishing up their pre-battle buffs.

�Works for us. Let�s get this over with,� their leader, a Hakarta, says.

I scan the group, Ali translating their Classes to the closest human equivalent. The lead Hakarta�s their Warrior Tank, geared toward eating damage. Next to him is a male Hakarta who�s a Soldier with an oversized sniper rifle. A tall, thin, grey, elongated creature with a bulbous nose is a Summoner, while the Pooskeen next to him is a Spellblade. And their last member�s a damn Healer, though weirdly, strings run from his fingers to all his people. Even weirder, the Healer looks like a damn puppet.

�When you�re ready.�

�Ready.�

Ali�s sitting out this fight for the most part, staying invisible and high above us all. I send a mental command to the room�s system, and a big notification appears for all of us. The countdown starts from three seconds out. I watch as all of them tense, their eyes flicking over the room as their leader gives commands. I can�t hear them, and the Hakarta�s smart enough to drop his helmet so I can�t read his lips either.

But I can read their body language, the way they move. I can see what they�re looking for and what they plan. And so, the moment the countdown hits zero, I have a plan. Rather than spend time on the defense, I take the fight straight to them via a Beacon of the Angels.

I�m surprised when the Skill fizzles, canceled out as the Spellblade jumps up and cuts at the forming circle of power. I notice his Mana drop like a rock, but even as he falls, he�s sucking down a new Mana potion. My lips pull apart in a snarl.

And while I�m distracted, the group is spreading out to make my attacks less effective. The Soldier snipes at me as he runs, his first bullet taking nearly half of my Shield�s defense. The Warrior Tank is moving forward to meet me directly. The Healer�s doing nothing right now, while the Summoner is staying behind the Tank and calling forth monsters.

�Ugh!� I say, when the Summoner�s giant centipedes boil up out of the floor. At a glance, it�s clear the Summoner has gone for the �quantity over quality� side of the pet equation. Which means�

�Ice Storm,� I say softly, mostly because I can, as I release the spell.

The spell flies from my hand, but before it can reach the Summoner, it curves and falls into the Warrior�s cupped hands. There, it swirls around and pulses as it tries to expand, contained by the Warrior. Even so, I can see the Warrior�s health and Mana drain.

�Fine. Have two. No. Three,� I snarl, flipping my hand forward as I chain-cast the spell.

Another hiss and crack as the sound barrier is broken, and my Soul Shield shatters under the Sniper�s second shot. Slow. Powerful attacks but slow. Too slow. I throw another spell then have to retract my hand from getting cut off as the Spellblade literally appears in front of me, cutting ineffectually at my spell.

�Forgot about you.� I grin. Fine. He wants to dance with the sword? We�ll dance with the sword.

I conjure my own and we clash blades, all while I keep forming a spell in my free hand. That limits my fighting ability significantly, especially since I�m used to switching hands. Fighting single-handed is annoying, but lucky for me, the Spellblade isn�t used to a bunch of extra swords joining the fight. That I occasionally throw and discard my weapon is messing with his rhythm, forcing him to constantly guess about what to do next.

�Stop that spell!� Tank screams when I lob it underhanded toward him.

It flies, only to be blocked by a giant swarm of centipedes that cover the area in front of the Warrior. The resulting explosion catches both the Spellblade and me, though the freeze effects seem to be negated by resistances from both of us. The centipedes, on the other hand, are turned into frozen statues, thin little frozen legs shattering and sending the creepy-crawlies crashing down.

Lobbing the spell makes me stop for a fraction of a second�long enough for the damn Sniper to take his next shot. The bullet burrows into my body, pain erupting as the bullet digs into my side. I ignore it and the way my body works to push out the bullet. Instead, I conjure another sword and lash out at the Spellblade.

Two swords in hand and a few more spinning around us, our blades clatter and howl, sparks flying as the Spellblade does his best to protect himself. As I�m getting the upper hand in the fight, the damn Warrior shows up, throwing a fist of ice at my head. Within seconds, I�m pushed back by the combined might of the two. I backpedal and swing, trying to keep the fast-approaching centipede swarm away from us. And each time I seem to be getting the upper hand, the Sniper fires again.

�He�s not that tough. I thought he was a Master Class?� the Healer says, wiggling his hand and replacing the damage I�ve done to the Tank. I�m cutting the Tank�s hands each time he punches or blocks, but the Healer fixes the damage within seconds, those strings glowing with concealed power.

�Hey, boy-o, if you�re going for an attrition battle, you should know that the Healer�s Mana has barely dipped.�

I grunt, spinning away from the Spellblade�s cut in an attempt to get around the Tank. The Tank falls back while the Spellblade ducks low and shuffles over to me. It�s not the first time they�ve done something unnecessary, and I�m sure I know why. Those strings are how the Healer sends his Mana to them, keeping his Mana cost down. But it limits their movements somewhat. Since they�ve given me a bit of a break, I hop backward a couple of times and cut the next incoming bullet apart, watching my sword chip as the bullet shatters. I layer another Soul Shield over my body before grinning at the group.

�Okay. Let�s start playing for real,� I say. �Time to come and play.�

As I cast a spell with one hand, the Warrior sets his feet to get ready to deal with the new problem. The Spellblade is moving forward with the centipede horde, wary of engaging me by himself. In the meantime, more centipedes crawl out of the hole in the floor and spread across the room in a wave as they attempt to cut off my line of retreat. The ones that weren�t caught in the initial ice storm are converging around the back of the room, forming an encirclement.

One hand works the new spell, the second goes for something simpler. I toss out grenades. One goes directly toward the Spellblade, who bats the explosive aside. Annoying, but it doesn�t matter. The smoke grenades spill colored smoke. With a snap of my hand, I throw my spell into the sky, watching as the spell container gets dragged over to the Warrior.

Too late though. I targeted it to go off about three feet above my head, so all the Warrior does is drag the entire thing over to him to center over the room. Exactly as I planned. Polar Zone kicks in, lowering the temperature drastically and slowing everyone down.

More grenades come out, lobbed to skip across chitin toward the Summoner. They don�t get far before they�re swallowed by the centipedes. Sometimes literally. Too bad it won�t matter.

F�Merc Nanoswarm Mana Grenades (Tier II)

The F�Merc Nanoswarm Grenades are guaranteed to disrupt the collection of Mana in a battlefield, reducing Mana Regeneration rates for those caught in the swarm. Recommended by the I�um military and the Torra Special Forces, these are the No.1 Most Popular Mana Grenade as voted by the public on Boom, Boom, Boom! Magazine.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates and spell formation in affected area by 37% (higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 10m x 10m

What happens next is not what I expected. The centipedes who slammed their bodies on the grenades twitch and scream, their bodies dissolving as the nanoswarm take effect. Literal holes open in their bodies, blood, guts, and chitin dissolving at a rate that�s visible to the naked eye.

�What the hell?� I backpedal and throw a series of Blade Strikes to keep the Spellblade on his toes.

�Summoned creatures are made of Mana. Kind of like me. The nanoswarm are literally eating them to power their replication.�

�Stop him!� the Summoner barks, twisting his hands and forming another pair of summoning circles to flank me. These look a hell of a lot bigger.

Another shot, this one punching into my Soul Shield. I drop a nanoswarm grenade by my feet, along with a smoke grenade, then engage the Spellblade in close combat once more. As the centipedes back off, giving me space, I grin. Isolate and win. The Summoner�s out of play for a few precious seconds while the Sniper will have trouble seeing me. As for the Tank�

He slams into me, punching through my Soul Shield with a Charge and snapping back my head. I impact the wall hard, bending steel and cracking my helmet as I slump down the now-dented partition. Spitting blood from a cut lip, I draw and toss my knives at the Tank, letting the blades sink into his body. Of course, he gets healed within moments, but that�s not the point.

As smoke engulfs the area, I let the pair close in on me before I trigger Blink Step. By that point, the first multi-headed chimera pokes its head out of the damn summoning circle. Luckily, dealing with Summoner is easy. I appear behind the Summoner, Ali having flown down and positioned himself close by to allow me to Blink Step in directly.

The first attack slices apart the Healer�s thread. The second takes off a leg, and the third cuts across his upper body. The Summoner staggers backward then disappears in a flash, the room�s System safeguards porting him out once he hits thirty percent of his total health. A sudden weight increase in my side tells me that my knives are back.

�Go.� Ali speeds off, headed for the second pre-designated target.

A baseball bat of force catches me on my right knee, forcing me to fall sideways as the Sniper continues firing through the damn smoke. I snarl, throwing on another Soul Shield and eyeing my health meter. Still good at just over two-thirds. As the Tank and Spellblade charge me, I raise my hands and trigger a Beacon from Angels. Already the summons are disappearing, forced out of our reality by their Summoner as per the rules of our engagement.

White fire blooms, and this time the Spellblade doesn�t notice till it�s too late. The Warrior sees it though, raising his hand to soak up the damage, forcing the beam to concentrate over him. His health yo-yos as the Healer desperately attempts to keep up his health. That�s made all the harder as the Warrior is taking the combined force of my Beacon. Sure, it does 750 damage normally, but that�s over a wide area. Concentrated�

I ignore the Warrior for now and turn to the Spellblade, who has managed to close to under five feet from me. He�s fast, but my knives flash out behind my Blade Strikes, crossing the distance in a blink. The flashier, more powerful Skill hides the dark blades until they injure the Spellblade in the torso and arm. The third knife misses entirely, but that�s fine. Already the Spellblade is reaching for a health potion, knowing he won�t get help.

�Your turn.� I grin as the Spellblade throws himself backward.

My body winks and disappears as I trigger Blink Step. High above him, I reappear to stare down at my target. Once more, I summon my swords, cutting at the form below me as I land.

The Sniper spins, blocking one of my blows with his rifle. The second catches him on the arm, tearing through armor and into muscle and skin. The Sniper snarls and disappears, reappearing at one of his set waypoints. I spot him on my minimap, but he�s out of my actual line-of-sight.

�Next one,� I command Ali, who sends a raspberry sound over our mental link.

The Spirit is already on his way, flitting forward in his invisible form.

My hand rises and power forms as I recast Polar Zone, layering the freeze spell further. The Warrior is gone, overwhelmed by the damage he tried to stop. The Healer is busy trying to patch up his friends, but his Mana is nearly tapped out. Without passive regeneration, we�re all getting low. But I still have more than enough in the tank to finish this.

�You�re brutal,� the Summoner complains, rubbing his reattached leg. A semi-clear bandage filled with a blue liquid surrounds the cut, bubbling and hissing as it works to reattach the limb. It�s an interesting piece of technology, and I make mental note to pick up one. Probably faster and less painful than regenerating the damn limb by myself.

�It�s the way I learned to fight,� I say.

�Why bother with the Polar Zone?� the Healer says as he sips on elderberry mana wine. Unlike the normal Mana potions, this one is slow-acting, but it has the advantage of being useable even when you�ve hit your potion limit.

�Distraction. I also wasn�t sure if it would break your strings,� I say.

�Har. Not that easy to cut my Strings of Fate,� the Healer says proudly, waggling threaded fingers at me. �They even reform if I put in enough Mana.�

�Good to know,� I say. �Got the recording?�

�Yup.�

�All right, gents. I�ll see you next time,� I say, nodding to the group.

There are a few entreaties for me to stay and chat more, but I�ve done enough of the post-fight briefing. Now it�s time for them to figure out how to beat me. And me, them.

I have to admit, Draco might be right. The fact that they�ve got Skills that counter mine, that they work together so smoothly, it throws me off. I do need to spend some time getting used to other ways of fighting, of winning with methods that don�t involve hitting really hard. And I also need to remember that I actually have more toys. Like my hoverboots.

Time. I just need time.

Chapter 10

Soon enough, my life ends up being one scheduled event after another. Sparsely attended speeches to potential recruits are followed by turns in the guild for training interspersed with time off in the Questors� library and time in the dungeon. I start ignoring my friends, taking the time in transit to read and catch up on my real goal. Luckily, Harry gets bored with following me around to speeches and disappears to do his own thing. As for Mikito, neither of us were ever the most talkative, so a pleasant silence earmarks our interactions.

Days turn to weeks as we grind on. Sparring. Dungeon. Speeches. Reading. Again and again, round and round. It�s a strangely peaceful life, a break in an otherwise hectic life that I sometimes find strange to believe is mine. Occasionally I walk around a corner and find myself conjuring my sword as I spot a particularly monstrous pedestrian, or I jump and roll, reflexively calling a Soul Shield, when someone screeches too loud. The peace that everyone seems to expect grates on me at times, forcing me to find refuge in my books and the violence of the dungeon.

As I stare at the passage before me one fine evening as we trudge back from the dungeon, I can�t help but frown. It�s an ongoing discussion about Skills, one that I decided to follow in my research.

�Skill evolutions continue to be a complex area of research. Numerous trials have been attempted, but thus far, no statistically solid research trial has been completed. While Grunter & Ross (document 1.82.5719.11) are the hallmark case in such trials, the data set is filled with significant sample bias. In addition, as many know, this data can only be held true for Basic Classes. Thus far, no trial has been successfully completed for Advanced or higher Classes. Researchers have cited the difficulties in gaining agreement from samples to use their Class Skill points in what can be considered a frivolous manner.

It is only via such institutions like the Erethran Army and others that we, the researchers, have been able to achieve a relatively consistent statistically relevant dataset. However, there are obvious concerns in drawing conclusions from such specific data sets, including sample bias and cultural and institutional influences on the System.

Still, it can be concluded that Skill evolutions occur when a significant number of Level-provided Skill Points have been dedicated to a single Class Skill. The number of Skill Points required seems to vary slightly from eight to ten points, depending on the rate and expenditure of such points.

It is believed, in this researcher�s view, that the number of points and the requirement that they be Level-provided not be an artifact of the System but instead a requirement of the individual. It is believed that the individual�s dedication to the Skill, the development of it and the acceptance of the Skill as an intrinsic part of their identity, triggers the Skill evolution. It is why Skill purchases from the Shop do not trigger the same evolution�as the purchases are, by virtue of their providence, an external bounty.

Now, it is clear that certain unique Classes, like the Shopper and Greed Pig, may set aside these personal requirements, as the foundation of these Classes lies in the acquisition of Skills and groups. But in this researcher�s opinion, these very same Classes reinforce his hypotheses.

This research strongly disputes the prevailing belief that the current block on Skill evolution comes from a System edict to �level the playing field.� It is clear, in this researcher�s mind, that such an edict would be lifted on a case-by-case basis for interested and powerful parties. That we do not see such edicts is not proof that our Council members are above such petty power plays but that there is no such edict.

In terms of the increased power from a Skill evolution, further research should be conducted. But it is clear from the provided data sets that a minimum increase of two, to a maximum increase of ten, times the strength of the Skill can be seen. The volume and variety of these Skill evolutions can be seen as��

I grunt, letting the book disappear. Sometimes I get really annoyed by how some of these researchers write, but information like this is important. And it�s clear, as I eye my increase in experience, that this researcher has some truth to his assertions. Of course, my experience also increased the last time I read a document asserting the opposite. So what, if any, of the entire article is true, I�m not sure.

Pushing the thought aside, I check out the other notification that just showed up. Yay. Another addition to the immigrant list. I�m a little concerned that my quest numbers are creeping up so slowly. Even if Oria has opened the buildings to Katherine�allowing her to lease but not buy the space�I cannot dismiss the fear that she�ll pull back on the invitation if we can�t get more immigrants. Our problem isn�t so much convincing those who show up to commit but convincing newer people. No matter how many speeches I give, it doesn�t seem to make a difference. There just aren�t enough people showing up to those meetings.

On the other hand, I can�t help but appreciate Draco�s quest. Training with the two Adventurer teams has been extremely useful. While I curb-stomped the second team when we first met, they�ve been the fastest to adapt to my techniques.

The Immortal Joes are a pure range combat team, with members all rifle, bow, or mage wielders. Together, they put out such a high output of firepower that they manage to take down most threats long before they close in. It helps, of course, that they�ve secured a variety of Skills like Dimension Lock, Sticky Floor, Surface Tension Decrease, and Web. In our first battle, their tactics were stupidly simple. They attempted to keep me from closing while hunkering down behind impromptu field defenses. What they didn�t expect was for me to get grumpy after falling on my ass for the second time and spam Beacon of the Angels till all their defensive measures failed. Since then, we�ve switched things up and have included terrain. Once that happened, closing in on the Joes has become significantly more difficult.

Both teams have upped their Dimension Lock capabilities to the extent that it costs significantly more Mana and health for me to Blink Step or Portal to them. At best, I can only use either movement spell twice before things end. They�ve also started dealing with my grenades, throwing up targeted force fields or using portable slime eaters to remove my toys.

Overall, our fights have taken on a seesaw property where we figure out new ways of dealing with one another and enact that plan, gaining an advantage until the other party figures out a counter or comes up with a new strategy. Of course, such changes could happen multiple times through a single fight, but staying on the winning side is fast becoming an issue for me.

That thought troubles me, even if the gains from all that training has shown up in our dungeon runs. Learning to alter my tactics and use spells like flight or my new hoverboots has given me a new appreciation for terrain and three-dimensional fighting. During the last dungeon run, I barely touched the earth as I challenged myself to stay in the air. In turn, Mikito spent her time using a rifle to snipe attackers. Overall, it was a fun use of our time in the dungeon, even if it meant it took us longer than normal to clear the quests we received.

Rather than deal with it now, I decide to check into the guild the next day. And also to look into my on-going issue with the adventuring teams.

�The Vice-Guild Master will see you now,� the secretary says, sending me in.

The big-chested lady is surprisingly beautiful in a very human way. If you ignore the extra pair of arms, she�s utterly gorgeous. Even with the extra pair of arms�and the slightly longer-than-human torso�I can�t help but plaster on a flirtatious smile. Not that she notices. Admittedly, that might be because I suck at flirting.

�Draco,� I greet him. �Thank you for seeing me.�

�My pleasure, Redeemer. You and the Spear were as good as your word. Your latest kill count came through, and we have reached a new Mana threshold with the city. Now, what is this meeting about?�

�Training. Or more specifically, my training with the teams.� I run a hand through my hair before I drop it and squash the sudden bout of nervousness. �I�m running into a problem staying ahead of their tactics.�

�What have you tried?� Draco says.

�Mmm� obscuring their vision, splitting them up using Mud and Metal Walls, creating extra chaos via chaos grenades or spell storms, hitting them with large-scale area-of-effect attacks, taking out the healer, hit-and-run tactics, grinding down their Mana, using throwaway gear to suppress attacks, direct charges��

�And they�ve come up with ways to counter all of those tactics?�

I nod. �Yup. Last match with the Joes, I charged the group while fast-casting a bunch of fireballs. Those gave me the cover to drop a bunch of mines. After the Joes scattered, I pulled back over the mines and let them eat the damage and the webs, but that didn�t last long. Even hunkering down and blasting them with Blade Strikes and my knives didn�t go that well. Barely pulled a win that time, and mostly because they forgot I can fly.�

�If you�ve gotten that far, then you are probably hitting your limits,� Draco says. �I�ll spend some time this evening looking over your fights, but I would not hold out hope for significant improvements.�

�What? Come on. I�m a Master Class and they�re, what? Level 40s at best,� I say, crossing my arms. �I should still be able to win more often than not.�

�It�s true that most Master Classers require a pair or three teams of Advanced Class parties to beat,� Draco says. �But you�re not a regular Master Class, are you?�

�Exactly!� When Draco meets my own indignant gaze with his slit-pupiled, placid one, I rein in my pride and consider his words. �Fine. I�m missing a whole Base Class.�

�Exactly,� Draco says. �Never mind the significant loss in Skills, most of which focus on the improvement of an individual�s base fighting ability, you are missing the attributes.�

�But mine�s a prestige Class.�

�Which has given you the advantage you have needed to win against the groups. But they�re learning your tricks, your abilities, and are developing counters just for you. A focused study like this will always create problems for a Master Class. You do not have the versatility of a Master Class Summoner or Technomaner, allowing you to adapt your drones and summons to their adaptations. On top of that, you face two additional disadvantages,� Draco says.

�Pray tell.�

�Numbers. You�re two against five or six. While each single individual might not be your match, the advantage in being able to selectively counter your attacks is important,� Draco says. �Some of the tactics you�ve mentioned are geared toward reducing or eliminating the options among your enemies, but that is insufficient.�

I can�t help but nod. It�s true that the advantage in numbers is tough to deal with. Even if a single one of my attacks is more powerful, even if it takes two of them to neutralize my attacks, I�m still facing the rest of the team unarmed. There are ways of getting around that, but the teams are realizing their advantage in numbers and really focusing on zone defense plays. That�s part of the reason why I�m finding the battles ever more difficult.

�Secondly, and more importantly, your Class is not geared for such battles,� Draco says.

�Pardon?�

�The Honor Guard Class was never meant to be used sans support. Look at the Erethrans. They work in teams, often dedicating individuals within each team to specific roles. Damage dealing. Support and logistics. Bodyguarding and defense. It is partly why they are so feared. A dedicated logistics personnel with the Portal Skill evolution can put a strike team anywhere in the Galaxy. A bodyguard for the Portal specialist can take any and all damage thrown at the other and erect an unbreachable Sanctum in times of need. A mobile artillery personnel with the Army of One Skill. And that is just in a small team of five. Instead, you spread yourself thin with your Class Skills.� When I move to protest, Draco snorts, body language that my new skill informs me is his race�s way of holding up a hand. �I know you�ve alleviated some of that with Credits, but your opponents can do the same. Specialization works because there is only so much Credits can do.

�Even your Paladin Class is stretched thin. You�ve focused and taken points in everything, making yourself a generalist rather than specializing in any one aspect. That gives you flexibility which you�ve managed to use, but it also leaves you vulnerable to dedicated kill squads.�

My lips press together, but I can�t object. Even I know that spreading yourself thin is sometimes a bad move as a gamer. Min-maxing can provide significant benefits. Among them, Skill Upgrades and evolution. It�s why an evolved Portal Skill could throw me across the galaxy, while my own can, at best, get me across the planet.

�Fair enough. But�� I try to figure out a way to explain my thinking.

�You have your circumstances. And being a generalist is not all bad. Being able to be flexible in a variety of situations is important, especially on Dungeon Worlds or in Forbidden Zones. The Guard is dangerous because they have each other to back them up. But you should understand your Skills, your Classes�they�re not meant to be used alone,� Draco says, pointing at me. �Until you accept that and work with that limitation, you�ll always be at a disadvantage. Now go. I�ve got more work to do. I�ll send you my suggestions for your training later.�

I draw a deep breath to quell my irritation and stand, bowing to him slightly. �Thank you. For everything.�

It�s only when I�m nearly at the door that Draco speaks again. �We�ve all lost friends. To time and blade. But refusing to take on more party members just puts the remainder at more risk.�

I stand there, one hand outstretched toward the exit, for a time before I offer a nod without turning around. The door hisses open and I step outside, my thoughts plagued by the discussion.

The yellow Shop is the same as always. Foxy, my personal sales attendant, seems happy to see me and grateful that I�ve taken the time to actually port in to his interdimensional location rather than using the physical shop in Irvina. There are a few reasons I�ve done that, but one of them is the tall drink of water lounging in the waiting room chair.

�John,� Roxley says, standing. His long hair is purple now, with light blue highlights. It sets off the mahogany skin beautifully.

I let my gaze drop to take in the strong, athletic form of the Truinnar and unconsciously find myself licking my lips. A shake of my head pushes the thought aside. Not the time. Or place.

�Roxley,� I say, walking forward. The damn shameless hunk wraps me up in an embrace followed by a kiss, one that I enjoy before pushing him away. �Hey! Don�t be so handsy. We�re not doing that anymore. Remember?�

�It�s traditional in Truinnar culture to greet one�s ex-lover in that way.�

My eyes narrow while Roxley gives me a perfect poker face. I snort, not believing him one bit. If I hadn�t needed some background information on Oria, I wouldn�t have called the man. Better to cut off what we had cleanly considering� well, we�re galaxies apart.

�Right. Well, I need some information. Background on Oria,� I say.

�The Representative to Irvina. I heard that she contacted you,� Roxley says, leaning forward. �You do know that you are placing me in a very untenable position? I could get into trouble for speaking with you.�

�I would never want you to get into too much trouble,� I say sweetly.

Roxley rolls his eyes, but I know he knows I mean it. And that I trust him to watch how much he says to me.

�Very well. The first thing you should know of the Representative is that she speaks with the Duchess�s voice. She holds an unparalleled position of trust within the organization.�

�Why?�

Roxley visibly considers his words. �There are many reasons. But the most famous is what Duchess Kangana did for Lady Oria. It was eighty or so years ago, soon after Lady Oria entered service in Irvina. Her husband and firstborn had not returned from a Forbidden Zone expedition. The Lady went to the Duchess and begged her for help. In turn, the Duchess launched a full-scale expedition, including her own personal guard, and retrieved her husband and daughter.�

�Huh. That�s� kinda cool,� I say.

�Many called it foolish.� Roxley�s lips pull into a tight smile. �The losses faced in the retrieval party significantly out-weighed the number that were retrieved.�

�Ah�� I wince. I can see why Roxley mentioned this story. It sheds a nicer light on the distant overlord who messed with us, then helped Earth. I�m still not sure how I feel about the Duchess. Still, that matters little. I�m unlikely to ever meet her. Powerful as she is, she�s just one of many powerful figures in the Galaxy.

�The Lady Oria swore unceasing loyalty to the Duchess, and she has become the longest-standing representative in Irvina for the Duchess because of that,� Roxley says. There�s a flicker, so fast and subtle that if I didn�t know him intimately, I�d have missed it.

�What?�

�Nothing pertinent.�

�Let me judge that.�

�Lady Oria�s husband was incensed that she sent others to retrieve him. He was so angered that he separated from her, took a pair of lovers, and eventually broke off contact entirely,� Roxley says. �He died two decades later on another expedition.�

�Oh.� I offer Roxley a half smile. �Sorry. You�re right. Not really relevant. So she�s the Duchess�s voice. What does Oria want from us?�

Roxley snorts, shaking his head. �From Earth? You should know that. Greater control, greater access. Credits and training grounds. The material resources and a location to shift overburdened populations. Everything that the Duchess desires.�

�And from me?�

�To tie a string to you,� Roxley says, pointing at my chest. �You and those of your ilk, the specials who break the System. You hold great potential.�

I grunt. Over time, I�ve begun to realize I�m not as special as I thought. Oh, I�m a cheater�but in a galaxy-wide population, I�m not the only one. On Earth, there are two others who survived the cleansing that I know of. They�re both Champions of Earth. There are probably more individuals who have hidden their strength or just aren�t as flashy. A certain Hong Kong Master comes to mind.

Galactically, there are those who have tried to �cheat� the System. Giving birth in high-Level zones, living in them for their entire childhood to ensure that when they gain full access to their Screens, they gain access to normally untouchable Perks. All of them taking risks and putting themselves in positions of danger or wealth to gain Perks like mine. Or, in some cases, just paying off the Council. Though that last one is as much rumor as hard fact. Some answers are too expensive to be bought.

Those who are �special� in that way are both lauded and feared. Minor Perks are something that most of the rich can acquire. Even some of the poorer individuals have lucked into them�whether through coincidence, fate, or planning. But like on Earth, becoming successful is not just a matter of luck. Too many gifted athletes have injured themselves, lacked the discipline or desire to become professionals. In a world where the fastest route to power is via combat, the losses are astounding.

�Har. That�s it?� I say.

�For now,� Roxley says, opening his hand. �Not everyone is useful. Not everyone is manipulable. Not everyone is trustworthy. A simple task like the one given to you helps create a precedent.�

I grunt, crossing my arms. Right. Like you give a programmer a small job to start with then check their code or the final result. If they take too long, code sloppily, or don�t put in comments, well, now you know. And for only a little cost. Doesn�t matter how gifted a programmer is, if they don�t comment in the script, you might not ever want to use them. Especially for big, complex projects.

�Thank you. So. How are the others?�

�Well enough. The Constable has been pushing me to reform the mounted police of your world. She�s very interested in your Lana�s griffon. We have been looking into the feasibility and have begun a pilot program,� Roxley says. �Aiden has formed a magic academy in Kamloops. The number of students has ballooned, and they are hiring more faculty members. The school pays for itself via dungeon runs and live magical experimentation on monsters.

�Your friends Rachel and Jason? They are looking at a second spawn,� Roxley says, distaste on his face.

I chuckle, recalling a memory of him being given their squalling firstborn child on one of his impromptu visits to Carcross. That had been a sight to behold.

I lean forward, asking questions. Sometimes about people I know, like Colonel Weir and the Champions. Other times about the politics on Earth. And for a time, I forget about the pressures of my quest and just enjoy the Truinnar�s company.

But all too soon, we have to call an end to our visit. The Shop isn�t meant for long meetings, and the longer we stay, the more expensive it�ll be. Still, by the time I port back into Irvina, I find myself smiling. For all that has happened, life manages to find a way to go on.

As good as his word, Draco sends me a document listing my shortcomings and an analysis of the battle videos. As much as he downplayed the gains I could make, Draco listed a significant number of mistakes. Of course, some of them are so small that I�m not sure how I�d ever fix them�stepping a little too soon here, dodging when I should roll there�while others are more helpful and less precise.

Over the next few days, I fall into a familiar routine, but the problem of insufficient immigrants continues to bother me. I finally end up arranging a meeting with Katherine in her new offices.

Set in the second ring of the capital, the new diplomatic offices are part of a complex of buildings that ring a rare oasis of greenery. Well, vegetation at least. The offices for Earth take up a portion of one of the high rises with residential quarters situated at the top of the building. It�s expensive, ritzy, and�in my eyes�no better than the simple guild quarters we stay in. Really, after a certain point, the levels of difference in comfort become too small to really count.

�Katherine.� I sweep my eyes over the diminutive lady�s form behind the large oak desk. I�m slightly amused to see an Earthen affectation, but the desk seems to be part of a concerted effort to give the entire area a human vibe. Though� �The Scream?� I incline my head toward the infamous painting.

�A personal favorite,� Katherine says with a sad smile. �The Shop formed in the middle of the museum in Oslo, leaving the works untouched. It took a little negotiation, but we managed to retrieve it from the Movanna.�

�Riiight,� I drawl, not entirely certain what to say. The loss we�ve experienced in culture, in people, still aches.

I have to admit, compared to Katherine, I�m a bit of an uncultured boor. My favorite pieces of culture were mostly preserved by the System. Movies, anime, the text of novels. But I can see how the loss of priceless paintings, statues, and even architecture could hurt. It�s nice to see at least some things have managed to survive. And maybe, in time, we might be able to get some back. Or create new forms of art.

�But you didn�t come here to talk about art,� Katherine says.

I flash her a grateful smile as she gets the meeting back on track. �Yeah.� I sit down without prompting. �Have you been keeping track of our numbers?�

�The Quest numbers? Yes. Disappointing.�

�I�m doing my best,� I say defensively.

�Of course. I didn�t mean it as an insult. But even Earth wants more Adventurers now. Especially if we can direct them to the right cities.�

I snort slightly. How the worm turns. We fought to keep them out, and now we�re desperate to find more of them to deal with dungeons, to help provide normalcy to the population, and because more Galactics means more money.

�I�m assuming you�ve got ideas?� I say.

�I do. I needed to confirm our budget and some other matters, but here�s what I�m thinking�� Katherine says, leaning forward.

Hours later, we come to the end of our little tete-a-tete. While most of it was Katherine talking at me, I tried to provide my own feedback on what could be done. Over time, we refined the initial ideas, our implementation, and eventually our reaction to what we knew was likely to come from it.

At the end, I find myself offering Katherine my hand as I stand. �You know we�re going to piss people off with this, right?�

Katherine stares at my offered handshake, raising an elegant eyebrow until I drop it awkwardly. �Of course. But it�s why you fought so hard to get us a seat on the Council, right? A chance to make a difference on our own planet.�

�Yeah�� A warm flush of emotions runs through me. Gratitude, happiness, and even a little fear. Because what we�re about to do�

�Our choice, John.�

�I know.� I acknowledge her words with a nod. �How long?�

�Give me a day.�

�Perfect.�

I wave goodbye to Katherine as I exit the room, pushing aside my concerns. As Draco pointed out, I can�t do everything myself. And pushing aside those who want to join me� well, it�s self-defeating. So I take the help and bite my tongue because we�re all adults.

A day later, I�m standing before a suddenly larger crowd. It�s not a massive difference, but there are nearly forty people in the room�so many that we�ve run out of chairs and a few are standing in the back. The mix of aliens is different too, with a larger proportion of low-level Combat Classers. Wiza, who�s been my main point of contact, looks elated, though he shoots a suspicious gaze at Harry, who has made an appearance for the first time in ages. Still, the Kobold pulls his lips into a wide grin. He�s happy. For now.

At first, everything flows, the well-honed speech and show-and-tell portion going over as well as it usually does. There are a few chuckles, a few gasps as I show off the monsters that can be found, a few snorts of derision and moments of wonder as we pan over cities. We�ve honed my speech to focus on the common questions, making our presentation better and more effective. But when we�ve completed the rote presentation, things start heating up.

�I received a System advertisement saying that if we sign up with the Earth Council, you�ll be conducting assisted dungeon runs in Irvina prior to departure. Is that true?� This comes from one of the Combat Classers, the insectoid rubbing two of its four arms in an unconscious act of nervousness and hope.

�Yes. I�m already part of Tig�s guild, so we�ll use my time slots with them to do the runs. Worst-case scenario, if that doesn�t work, we�ll pay for a dungeon use. Also, once you get to Earth, you�ll be slotted into one of our regular city patrols if you wish, which will allow you to gain experience and Credits at the same time,� I say.

�What?� Wiza says, jaw dropping and his tongue rolling out. �What Earth Council? What advertisement?�

Wiza�s words get a few looks of pity and disgust. I kind of feel bad for the Kobold, considering it�s not his fault we didn�t tell him.

�And no Serf contracts?� someone else asks.

�None. Ali?�

A moment later, everyone in the room has new notification screens to review. They list the details of the contract Katherine has slaved over, tidying up the language and the necessary safeguards. That the entire thing is relatively short means the audience gets through the entire thing quickly.

�You�ll provide us with housing, food, and a small stipend, along with materials for our production?� This exclamation comes from a Leatherworker, one whose pointed fingers must make punching holes to sew up leather super easy. I wonder if he wears multiple thimbles when he needs to work with care?

�Yes. Though only once you arrive on Earth. And we�re going to restrict you from taking part in dungeon runs, at least until you�ve paid back your plane ticket. Shuttle. Spaceship,� I correct myself quickly. �Obviously, the deal�s slightly different for the Combat Classers. But after you�ve paid off the initial cost, you�re welcome to join the protected runs or the patrols.�

�What are you doing?� Wiza snarls, rushing up in front of me and revealing his teeth. He arches his back, looming over me as if he can intimidate me.

That lasts until I release my Aura and meet his gaze, staring down the salesman.

He shrinks back a bit, letting out an involuntary whimper. �Why are you doing this?�

�Because we�re humans. And a Dungeon World,� I say. �Now. Next question?�

�I�m a Technomancer who focuses on gravity fields. You going to supply me the tech I need?�

�Uhh� Ali?� I look desperately at the Spirit.

Ali snorts, fading into sight in front of everyone and getting a few gasps before he goes on to answer questions. Wiza, now ignored, looks between the two of us before he slinks out to report to his superiors.

Yeah. The shitstorm is coming.

�You look happy,� Harry sends over the party chat.

To that, I can only shrug. But this? This feels right.

�Evening, VG,� I say, nodding to Draco. A little surprising to find him waiting at the bottom of the entrance of our housing, but only a little.

�We need to speak, Redeemer,� Draco says.

�My residence?�

�No. I�ve secured a meeting room.�

Draco leads the way into a portion of the guild housing that I�ve been to, a place I can only describe as a truncated business center. In the meeting room, Draco triggers a number of security measures to cut off outside communication and viewing before he pulls out another little device and waves it around. There are a few cracks and buzzes�even one on me�before the surveillance bugs surrounding us die.

�Ugh. On me?� I say with a snarl.

My Skill and the Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent might make my actions harder to track, but if a bug was on me� I sigh and make a mental note to go shopping for a toy like Draco�s. There�s no point in hiding from Skills if everything is getting recorded in a completely separate way. Thankfully, nothing I�ve been doing needs to be that secret. Still annoying.

�You still have a lot to learn.� Draco leans forward, fixing me with those slitted eyes of his, a spark of anger flaring in them. �Along with the matter of asking permission first.�

�Permission?�

�I have received numerous complaints about you offering to bring individuals of the seventh ring to the dungeon. Under the guild�s name,� Draco says.

�I said if I could get your permission,� I protest slightly. Not too hard, because I�m not dumb enough to not realize that rumors and an individual�s selective hearing could easily distort the message. Which, I�ll admit, did come into our considerations.

�And you did not feel it wise to confirm with me before you announced the matter to the planet?� Draco growls.

�Well, I thought about it. But things were moving rather fast once we made up our mind. And we weren�t sure how desirable the entire offer would be.�

�I should kick you out of the guild for this,� Draco says. �What makes you think you can do this?�

�Guild regulation umm��

�137. Under Adventuring parties and guests. Part four,� Ali helpfully supplies.

�Right. I may, at my discretion, party with other affiliated guilds so long as I�m willing to take full responsibility for partying outside of the guild. This includes entrance to dungeons. The only exception is if said individuals are not registered,� I said. �And since we�re going to have them register with NAGA provisionally, with myself as sponsor, it should be fine.�

It�s a workaround of course. The immigrants will be marked as the lowest Adventurer level possible�G�and even then, only provisionally. I�m required to provide them a significant amount of collateral too, but so long as I get their Levels and combat ability to F, I�ll get the Credit deposit back. In many cases, a single dungeon run would be sufficient to prove that they had an F-level of ability.

That Combat Classers from the seventh ring have never done this before in large numbers is more due to the cost of joining NAGA�or the restrictions in any other guild�than any lack of imagination on their parts. It doesn�t help that NAGA doesn�t have open slots in the dungeons, which means that NAGA entrants either have to slot themselves in when time comes up or find another guild party to join. Not as much of an issue for me, as a Master Classer with friends, but more of an issue for an outsider from the sixth or seventh ring.

�Oh. Of course,� Draco says. �I never realized you were a rules lawyer. You do know the guild does not get involved in faction politics? Or annoy large sections of our potential customer base!�

�It�s not that big a deal,� I say with a frown.

By my side, Ali snorts slightly as he spins in circles. On my minimap, I can see how Harry paces the corridor outside, obviously dissatisfied with being kept out of this conversation. But it�s a guild matter and he�s not part of the guild.

�I doubt we�ll get more than a hundred people taking up this offer,� I say.

�You doubt,� Draco says sarcastically. �Are you being na�ve? You are directly challenging the established mode of operation. Not only are you offering to train up the lowest Levels, you�ve offered those in the fifteen and higher range direct tickets to Earth with few strings!�

�Not a few. We�ve got them working for our city patrols for a good year, or until they pay back their transportation ticket with appropriate interest,� I say.

�Exactly!� Draco snaps. �Your offer isn�t just fair; it�s downright generous. There are no margins for error. Your Contract has no insurance or coverage if they die! You don�t even have a secondary signee, so all your funds are lost the moment they perish.�

�That�s unlikely to happen. We�ve gotten rather good at keeping our people from the really hard stuff. It�s not like the first few years. Now we�ve got rapid response teams and experienced group leaders situated throughout our cities. Hell, some of the teams even have �porters like me.�

�Death still happens.�

�Then I�d say they�ve already paid enough, no?� I say, leaning forward. �If they die while protecting our cities, it seems that wiping out a little debt is the least we can offer them. Anyway, why do you care?�

�I don�t. Except everyone seems intent on whining at me about it. Your actions disrupt every small- to mid-sized guild or Serf-company that has use for these higher-Level Combat Classers,� Draco says. �Our guild might not care. After all, we�re looking for Elites and we offer the services and benefits to attract them. But the small- and mid-sized guilds? They thrive off these low-Levelers. That�s how they make their money and fill their ranks. And now, you�re offering to pull them all to Earth.�

�Not all. Hell, I�m pretty sure we won�t even get ten percent of everyone available.� I smile slightly, opening my hands wide. �But yes, that�s kind of the point.�

�I repeat. Why the hell shouldn�t I kick you out and save myself one Kelpie-birthed headache?� Draco says.

Strange. I stare at Draco, look at the way he�s sitting, at the thrum of threads, and realize he�s not asking this as a matter of course. He�s asking because he wants me to provide him a good excuse. Because� �You like what I�m doing.�

�It doesn�t matter. What matters is your effect on this guild,� Draco says. �If we don�t take action, we�re going to lose at least a fifth of our active contracts on Irvina.�

�A fifth?� I frown, trying to figure out the value of that. After a moment, I discard that line of thought. It doesn�t matter. �True. But do you really want them to know that the guild is willing to cave over a little pressure?�

�Over someone that everyone knows we have little ties to?� Draco shrugs. �I�d say we�d be hurting ourselves even more if we stayed with you.�

�Fair enough,� I say. �Any ideas?�

�In or out. Sitting on the fence��

�Mixing metaphors.� My gaze sharpens as I look at Draco, resolving the answer in my mind. �You�re right. Keeping me in the guild is a bad choice.� I see Draco straighten a little, growing serious, but I don�t stop talking. �But that�s only if you�re not supporting us.�

�Supporting you?� Draco lets out a hiss-snort.

�Yes. Right now, you�re collateral damage. So you either need to get out of the line of fire entirely by letting me go�or get in the bunker with us,� I say.

�In the bunker?�

�Sorry. Place to��

�I know what a bunker is. I want an explanation of what this bunker is about.�

�It�s a metaphorical bunker�� Draco hisses at me, and I stop teasing the Vice-Guild Master. �Easy. You help us. Earth will issue quests. You help run the recruits through the dungeons on the slots that the guild already has. You�ve got the extra slots since we breached the new Mana threshold.� I wave my hand around, growing excited. �Not only do you make up for the loss in quests, you also get firsthand knowledge of potential new recruits.

�On top of that, I�m sure Katherine will be happy to negotiate additional discounts for the guild on Earth itself. I bet we could get you a few new Guild Halls. Find some great recruits, maybe even a few quests to escort the new recruits to the right cities. You can slot your new recruits right onto Earth, making even more money long term, and build up a great reputation here on Irvina. You can even start recruiting from our immigrants and the humans while having some great publicity. Trust me, we humans love an underdog story.�

�And you think that�ll be enough to offset the anger our actions will create?� Draco says.

�Maybe not from the corporations. But how many Adventurers have come from the fifth circle onward? How many of them would look favorably upon you?�

Draco crosses his arms as he leans back. �You think we�ll be able to poach some other higher-Level Adventurers.�

�Maybe. Worst-case, some of those other guilds have to answer to their guilds why they aren�t doing the same.�

�That�s if this entire exercise works.�

�There is that.�

Draco falls silent. The lizardman stands after a time and walks toward the door. He leaves with one final, somewhat ominous, sentence. �I�ll let you know what we decide.�

�What do you think, Ali?�

�I think we should be looking at what it takes to establish a guild.�

�Isn�t it expensive? And hard to get a damn dungeon slot?�

�Yup.�

Arse. I pull out a piece of chocolate, unwrap the velvety goodness, and pop it into my mouth as I stare at the exit, considering my options. In the end, I let out a little snort as Harry pops his head in, scanning my face for an answer. One that I can�t give him.

Chapter 11

�This is not scalable,� Mikito says, arms crossed as she eyes the eleven Combat Classers arrayed before us.

Unsurprisingly, the majority of the Combat Classers have normal non-prestige Classes, mostly in the melee and direct combat forms. It�s one of the inherent disadvantages for many of these guys�even if they�re guided by their parents, their options of achieving the necessary requirements for a prestige Class are nearly non-existent. On top of that, outside of the most basic long-range weaponry, it�s hard to scale-up damage at the low Levels with crap tech weaponry. Tech at the higher levels requires a large influx of funds, access to the right people to build the weapon and equipment, and even more Credits to pay for the replacements. It�s why melee and magic continue to dominate, except for certain groups like the Erethrans. Still, at least we have a pair of healers. But, of course, none of that is why Mikito is complaining.

�No, it�s not,� I agree with the Samurai. Only two of us here, so there�s only so many people we can run through, especially with the slots we have. �But thank you for coming anyway.�

�Ummm�� A short and busty woman comes up, her ears curved and overly large. She�s an �elf� as per Japanese mangas, not like the Lord of the Rings movies. Being that she�s so much shorter than me and wearing something way too low-cut, I�m getting quite an eyeful. Weird that there are so many variations on the elf idea, from Truinnar to Movanna to whatever she is. �Are we really going into this dungeon?�

�Yup. You guys need Levels more than combat experience,� I say, eying the group again. A little piece of downloaded knowledge lets me estimate their ages, and what I�m seeing is a bunch of late teens or early twenty-year-olds. Which makes their single-digit Levels pitiful. �So we�re going to get you those Levels.�

�But, ummm�� Again, the woman looks at the dungeon entrance. �That�s a Level 20 dungeon.�

�Twenty to thirty, yup.� I flash her a grin, which does nothing to reassure the woman. But that�s fine. �All right, everybody. I don�t care how you all divide yourself, except you healers. One each on me and Mikito. We�re going in in five.�

�Five seconds!� yelps one of the healers.

�Minutes!� Ali corrects.

As the group shuffles and prods one another, trying to divide themselves into a roughly equal split, I�m surprised by the results. Everyone wants to go with Mikito, which is a big and slightly hurtful revelation. I�m frowning, trying not to remind myself of dodgeball practice in grade ten, when I hear footsteps approaching. A turn of my head shows an interesting group of a half-dozen Adventurers coming up to us, arms crossed.

�And who says you�re going in?� The speaker is rotund, bulbous like a beetle on hind legs. The fact that he�s flanked by a frost giant mage makes me raise an eyebrow.

�Pretty sure that�d be the Irvina Dungeon Control,� I say. �This is our slot and time. Cleared it all already.�

�With those scum? You going to run a train for those vermin?� The rather high pitch that the beetle speaks in makes my ear hurt. I ignore Beetlejuice�s Status, knowing I won�t recall it.

�Yup. Mikito, you guys go first,� I say.

The Samurai doesn�t even give me a second glance, waving her group onward. As the troublemakers try to block them, Ali finishes a silent cast of Metal Walls, putting the metallic obstruction in their way.

�What are you doing?� Beetlejuice clicks, his friends glancing at their leader. Tearing down the wall would be easy enough for them, but they�re hesitant to escalate the situation with violence.

�Well, I�m standing here in front of you. She�s going in,� I say. �And in about five minutes, we�re going in.�

�Don�t you dare!�

�Or what?� I find myself grinning widely when I realize their threats are a bluff. They aren�t willing to anger the authorities. Physically escalating this is a losing proposition for them�with only a bunch of mid-stage Advanced Classers�and outside of that, their options are limited.

�You��

�Oh, be quiet,� a familiar voice cuts over Beetle�s chirping. Wiza lopes forward from where he�s been hiding, the stealth Skill sloughing off his body as he becomes visible to everyone else. �I�ll deal with this.�

�Sorry,� Beetlejuice says and backs off.

�Well, about time you came out.� Not as if I hadn�t noticed him, but I am surprised to see him make his presence known.

Mikito has stopped by the gates, a hand resting on the polearm as she eyes the newcomer. Those behind her group together, looking wary.

�Any of you who enter the dungeon will face sanctions by my company and all others. If you have any debts, we�ll buy them. If any of you have family with debts, we�ll buy them. If you have friends, we�ll buy their debts too. And call the debts close immediately,� Wiza says with a vicious snarl. �If you own anything on lease, we�ll buy it. Your jobs, your families� jobs, your friends� jobs. They�ll all be lost.�

�You can�t do that!� the little elf lady says, bouncing worriedly. �That�s illegal!�

�Not the way we�ll do it. It�ll all be legal and above board. You think your contracts can�t be sold? Think again. We�ll buy them up and then consolidate everything for you,� Wiza says, his smirk growing. �Of course, there�ll be additional fees for all that, and penalties if you miss a payment. We�ll even give you all the warnings we have to to make sure that you can clear your debts. Properly.�

�We can�t afford to buy out our debts. If we could, we wouldn�t be here!� a Kobold says, his eyes wide as he grips the warped piece of metal he calls a mace.

�Exactly. Leave and we�ll forget all about this,� Wiza says.

�Sir�� The elf lady looks at me, giving me these big, imploring eyes.

I meet her gaze for a moment then sweep mine over the group, judging their resolve. A couple look bored, as if they�re not worried. Most have concern etched on their faces, fear too.

�And if you think we can�t stop you from leaving for Earth, you�re wrong,� Wiza says, smiling. �Anyone whose debt exceeds the primary threshold will find that we�re more than willing to enforce the �safe harbor� clause.�

�Ali?�

�Primary threshold varies depending on the value and income amount of the individual. It�s a calculated threshold. But, umm, figure roughly around fifty thousand Credits. That allows the debtors to dictate that the debtees have to stay in �safe areas� to safeguard the amounts owed.�

I grunt to indicate I got all that. I hadn�t expected this kind of problem, which is a big problem. I�m not sure how many people have that much debt�and it certainly seems pretty high to me�but it surely would cause significant problems. Still�

�Any of you who want to leave, go ahead. Let me know if you want to cancel your contracts too,� I say. Wiza grins, gloating over his win, but I ignore the Kobold. �But realize that these assholes? They aren�t going to stop pushing. Not now, not ever. Right now, you�re in the front of the queue to change your lives. You leave, and someone else, someone with less to lose, less debt, fewer ties will take your place. And you�ll lose your chance. Perhaps forever.�

It�s no St. Crispin�s Day speech, but I see some faces tighten in resolve. Others continue to waver, while a few actually step away, shaking their heads. I understand. It�s one thing to risk yourself, but your friends, your family? That requires a different kind of resolve, of bravery. Maybe even a lack of wisdom.

�Contact some of the others who signed up, especially those on the next run. Let them know what�s going to happen, have them start coming now if they intend to stay. Whoever gets here first gets to do two runs if they�re from the next batch.�

�On it, boy-o.�

We lose a good half of our people, ending up with just six. I send Mikito through with the remnants of the group and find my lips curling upward as Wiza takes note of those entering. I�m sure he�s busy making arrangements to make a mess of their lives. As a thought strikes me, I touch the band that makes my helmet appear so that I can hold my next conversation in privacy.

�Katherine.� Once the call connects to the lady, I fill her in.

She makes a face. Neither of us expected this particular method of persuasion. I admit, our inexperience at Galactic politics and how bare-handed they are is showing.

�Give me what time you can. I�ll think of something,� Katherine says.

While this might not cause too much problems for the middle-stage Combat Classers, it�s going to play havoc for our recruitment of Artisans. Those fellows generally have the greatest debts, as they need to make better and better items to Level up. No surprise that it drives them into debt. It�s workable debt, if you�re smart about it, but it�s debt. And while Combat Classers are nice, Artisans are where the volume is.

�Can do. Just don�t overdo it,� I say.

We�re still a new planet with a lot of programs that need financing. Just the spaceship tickets alone will be a huge drain on our resources. Even though the new residents of our Dungeon World will bring taxes, security, and new skills to the planet, that doesn�t mean those benefits appear immediately. We have a million and one programs drawing on our scarce resources, so we can�t afford to devote too many Credits to this. Immigration might be a net positive, but it could take years before we see the results of it.

�Tell me about it,� Katherine mutters. �I�m already getting an earful over the tickets.�

�Problem?� I mutter, moving away from Wiza.

�Just a lot of complaints. Some valid�our resources are tight�and some, well, xenophobic,� Katherine says. �Lots of NIMBYism going on too.�

�You sound exasperated,� I say.

Katherine makes a face. �It�s familiar territory, except this is just driven by fear and hate. At least when it came to oil pipelines and dams, there was a lot to be weighed on both sides. Here, it�s mostly just hate for the Galactics. It�s not as if we don�t have hundreds, thousands of empty towns. Never mind the millions of buildings and suburbs we need to take back.�

I don�t really know what to say. There is still a lot of anger and resentment over what happened, and much of that anger has pointed itself squarely at anything not human. There isn�t a lot of in-your-face speciesism, but the undercurrent of distrust and dislike is there. It�s not hard to understand, but it�s not particularly useful either. We need the bodies to help contain the Dungeon World. While it happens a lot less frequently, we still lose settlements to monster swarms and burgeoning, unchecked dungeons. And it�s not as if the vast majority of those who have arrived had anything to do with the choice to turn us into a Dungeon World. They�re just immigrants after the destruction. Opportunists at worst.

But still, the anger and resentment, the unwillingness to let go of the past infects us all. We�ve lost so much, and some it will never return. Cultural touchstones, languages, skills. All of it replaced by, well, the System and the Galactics. Is it any wonder that even the most enlightened are angry with the Galactics? Especially when they strut through our streets with their unconscious arrogance, some of them being blatant in their views of us as primitives?

Even when we want to use them for our purposes, it�s hard to forget that it was the Galactics who made the decision to kill ninety percent of us. That these alien species, watched and betted on the outcome, laughed and cheered at our tragedies and triumphs. Enlightened or not, it�s hard to forget our pain. Even if we know that some doesn�t mean all, even if the one you�re talking to is probably okay. And few of us are all that enlightened.

�Well, tell Lana I�m willing to use my investments on this,� I say.

Changing minds, changing hearts, that�s a job for someone else. Truth be told, I�m not that enlightened myself. I just found something bigger to hate. For now, all I can do is what I can. For now, building our world back up as fast as I can is my way of stabbing a thumb in the eye of those responsible. For now, fixing what was broken as best I can is how I can safeguard our world.

�Thank you, John.�

�Yeah, yeah.�

I kill the call then, since the next group of recruited Combat Classers is arriving. Seeing the group of helpless newbies stagger, some looking eager, others worried, I�m reminded of a time not so long ago when I dragged out a group of humans. A spark of understanding flows through me as I stare at creatures of skin and chitin, of blue and brown coloration. Maybe we�re all just the same in the end.

We�re all ground down under the System equally.

�Well, go on then,� I say, sword resting idly on my shoulder as I nod toward the whale-like monster with its numerous-tentacled body in the water. Aggressive waving of its tail drive the monster toward us, tentacles waving as it charges our position.

Nima Whale (Level 23)

HP: 472/493

MP: 231/256

Conditions: Aquatic Mammal, Peerless Charge

The dungeon is a semi-aquatic one, which is partly why we could get in on such short notice. Aquatic dungeons are less preferred, since most Adventurers aren�t suited to handling them. The few aquatic races that are in the System generally hog the aquatic dungeons. In fact, because of their ability to run aquatic locations at a faster rate than the majority of species, the aquatic races have a higher proportion of high-Level Adventurers than land-based species. Thankfully, due to the lack of conflict as we take on different terrains, they generally get on well with us non-aquatics. It helps that the System deals with pesky things like land-based pollution, so many of the major clashes in living arrangements between our species is minimized.

There are two major ways of completing this particular dungeon, 6-8. Hard mode, which is currently being completed by Mikito and her group, means submerging oneself in the water and dealing with the more numerous monster threats in their environment. It�s good training and experience in abnormal environments, which is why this city has a few aquatic dungeons. I even hear there�s a sub-zero dungeon.

The other path to completion is the one we�re taking�the normal mode. This involves trekking across the dungeon via the floating platforms that dot the water. The platforms are somewhat unsteady, bobbing along in the water, and are not always connected. Occasionally, Adventurers have to either wait for platforms to float back to their correct position or take the quick swim to the next platform. Or fly. All of which adds to the fun.

�Shoot it!� Ali commands, having changed his clothing to a soldier�s camo uniform. �All of you. Yes, you. The one with the sling. What do you mean you don�t have a ranged weapon? What did you think you were going to do? Piss on it?�

Under the guidance of the Spirit, the group attacks. I watch with an amused expression as everything from slug throwers to slings and arrows lash out. The group even has a pair of beam rifles, though from the looks of it, they�re rather poor quality. Weapons burn and tear, making the whale dodge beneath the water.

�You. Take this.� Ali materializes and shoves my beam rifle into one melee fighter�s hands. �And you, this.� Next comes my pistol.

I grimace, making a mental note to get them back.

�You. Tank. Get ready for the wigglies,� Ali orders.

Under water, the whale makes its way to us and pops up at the last second, long tentacles waving and darting forward in an attempt to pluck people off the walkway. The Tank moves, blocking a pair of tentacles with his body and slicing apart another one with his double-sided polearm. Another tentacle slips past, wrapping around a body. Since this is the first battle of the dungeon, it�s a little too early to let one of them get dragged under. I lash out with a simple Blade Strike, cutting the tentacle off but leaving the monster mostly undamaged.

�You, Healer. What are you doing? Heal them!� Ali commands.

I step back, having done my part, and get back to watching. The group is significantly under-Leveled here, but with Ali and I helping out and lending a little equipment-based aid, there shouldn�t be any issues.

�Why are you crying? You only lost half your health. Get back on your feet!� Ali roars. �Now kill that thing!�

�Ding?� I say, leaning around the large sasquatch-like Tank�s shoulder to stare into the empty space he�s focused on. Of course, I don�t see anything.

�Ding?�

�Human term,� I say, waving away Sasquatch�s confusion. �Did you Level?�

�Yes!� Sasquatch nods. �I was considering where to put my attributes and Skill point.�

�Nice. That�s always fun. Except for two things,� I say.

�Two things?�

�One. We�re in the middle of a dungeon, in the middle of a walkway where monsters appear. You�re on lookout. And have gotten distracted.�

Sasquatch does the furred equivalent of blush�blue eyes turning red and pink�before he blinks quickly and looks around desperately.

�And two. You should use the resources at your disposal fully.�

�Resources?�

�Me and Ali,� I say, pointing between us. �Well, mostly the Spirit. He�s got hundreds of years of experience under his belt.�

�But he�s your Companion,� Sasquatch protests.

I stare at the Sasquatch for a moment before raising my voice, deciding to make the damn announcement for everyone to hear. �Okay, people. If you go up in Levels, don�t allocate your points yet. Wait until we�re in a safe point. Or enough of you are ready that Ali and I will take over watch. Also, you should seriously consider talking to the Spirit and me. We might not be as good as dedicated guild advisors, but we�ve been around the block or two.�

�Or made a few blocks,� Ali says with a harrumph.

�What he said,� I say, nodding toward Ali. �Make use of us.�

�Why would we trust you with that information?� a thin dwarf says, stomping over and glaring at us. �You could be screwing with us to make it better for your guild. Or planet.�

�We could. And you don�t have to. Your call. But it�s worth thinking about what we�ll get out of messing with you. It�s not as if what happens to a bunch of non-prestige Basic Classers will ever make a difference for me. Or him.� Not surprisingly, my words garner quite a bit of anger, but I continue on blithely. �On the other hand, the faster I get you and the rest up to snuff, the faster my quest gets complete. So. Do what you want.�

They look between each other as they take in my pronouncement. In the meantime, I nod to Ali, who straightens up. I already see some of the kids peremptorily wincing.

He bellows, �MOVE OUT!�

�So. Uhh� about my Level up. Ups,� Sasquatch says, looking at me nervously.

�You play tank, right? And you�re a warrior type?�

Now that we�ve found a rather solid island and cleared out the mini-boss, it�s quite a safe area to wait. The mini-boss�who would have been classed as an alpha if it wasn�t in a dungeon�was a weird shellfish creature with long, stabby arms and a body configuration that made me wonder how it worked. I�d just finished announcing a quick rest and Level up before walking over to store the mana crystal when the Sasquatch came along.

�I am the Defender, yes,� the Sasquatch says. I can even hear the capital letter the alien adds to the role.

�Then you should know to build up your Constitution primarily, with Strength and Agility next. If you�re primary Defender, you�re going to be eating a lot of hits,� I say. �Any pain resistances?�

�No. But my species is naturally resistant to high levels of pain. We also receive a small bonus to our health and Mana regeneration in colder climates.�

�Nice. Remind me to tell you about Canada. But you�ll want to consider buying some pain resistances when you can. Chemical aids are fine, but they don�t last long with the System. The more you fight, the more it�ll hurt. Chemical aids end up being more expensive in the long term. So. Do you have a passive or active build?�

�My Class�Snow after the Solstice�emphasizes endurance over the long term, as the winter is long,� Sasquatch replies.

My lips twitch in amusement, gratitude flowing through me to my annoying Spirit for translating that as �Warrior Tank.�

�The first branch of my Class provides increases in my attributes and resistances,� he says. �The second in passive regeneration. The third is damage dealing, mostly via damage reflection and a passive damage collection aura for friendlies.�

I blink, never having heard of that. That sounds useful�an aura that collects damage from friends instead of you having to go to them. Too bad most auras conflict with one another.

�That�s fine. Here are my thoughts. Firstly, do you have a regular group yet?� At the shake of the Sasquatch�s head, I continue. �Then you�ll want to consider forming one. It sounds like you can�t do much damage without equipment, so I�d ignore boosting any of your damage-related Skills entirely in favor of good friends and good equipment when you can afford it.

�Secondly, consider specialization. Your Class might be racial specific, but it�s not a prestige Class, is it? So your total attributes will be mediocre at best. Which is fine, but that means you need friends. Best way to get reliable teammates is being one yourself.� I hear a mental snicker as Ali overhears that bit, but luckily, he�s too busy to laugh at me directly. �So. Specialize. Figure out which branch you want to focus on and get that up as high as possible. Personally, I�d go down the one that gives you the aura and boosts to your passive regenerations. Especially if they�re percentage-based.�

�But they�re less powerful than an attribute increase.�

�Right now, sure. But you weren�t born on a Dungeon World. You can afford to play the long game. And any percentage-based Skill will pay off by the time you become an Advanced Classer. Even when you get to Earth, we�ll be keeping you on routine patrols so you can afford to play it safe,� I say.

Sasquatch looks a bit startled, and I have to remind myself that the idea that they�d be able to become an Advanced Classer is as foreign to them as the idea of surviving the first year was to us. It was just something that we couldn�t hope to believe in. Not really.

�I� yes.�

�You know of Skill evolutions, right?�

When Sasquatch shakes his head, I sigh. Sometimes, I wonder about the public education system among the Galactics. Other times, I know. Then again, why should I be that surprised? Even with all the world�s knowledge at our fingertips before the System, so many people never bothered to look up details about voting, or finances, or something as simple as a rental agreement. Why should it be any different for another species? Another world?

�Fine. Let�s talk about that��

�Kermit crab?�

�Hermit,� I correct Ali as I stare at the giant conical creature breaching the water. Most of its body is hidden in the water as it paddles back and forth in front of us. The cream-colored spiral of its body is covered by a flowing, emerald liquid armor.

Hus Crab (Level 38 Boss)

HP: 947/947

MP: 478/478

Conditions: Water Armor, Reflexive Hydrospouts

�Are we supposed to fight that?� the thin dwarf says, fear threading through his voice.

I don�t blame him. Even if the entire group has gained a Level or two throughout this dungeon, they�re still miles away from winning against a Level 38 boss. I�m a little proud of the group, really. They�ve managed to handle the growing monsters better and better, with only three of their members ever getting dragged underwater. After babying them for a little, I started sending Ali down to keep a close eye on the submerged fool as an object lesson. Unsurprisingly, they got a lot better at avoiding the tentacles then. Even with all their improvement, expecting them to beat the Boss was a bit much.

�Nah, I got this.� I raise my hand and call down a Beacon from Angels directly onto the bastard.

One disadvantage for a creature that large�it eats a larger percentage of the energy output, meaning that it takes a higher amount of damage than normal. Normally, its armor would decrease the amount of damage it took, but my Pierce attacks solve that problem handily.

When the beam finally fades, the group takes their hands away from their eyes to the sight of the hermit crab bobbing along the water on its side, armor shattered and flesh smoking. It drifts in the boiling water, dead as dead can be.

�Damn it. I barely got any experience from that,� the skinny dwarf grumbles.

I snort. �Be glad the System gave you anything.�

Ali flies forward to loot the monster, grimacing as he eyes the big corpse. �What�d you want to do with it, boy-o? Can�t really fit this in the Altered Storage.�

�Leave it,� I say. A Level 38 Boss isn�t worth the hassle of hauling its corpse.

That�s when the group protests, shouting their objections. I wince, finally managing to shush them by detailing the problem to them.

Which is how we end up walking out of the dungeon, dragging a giant hermit crab corpse behind us to the awe-struck gazes of the next group.

Ali flits over to the new group, arching his back. �All right, you Gremlin-loving recruits. Time to gear up and buff out. We�re moving out in two minutes!�

�You sure you don�t want Credits for this?� Sasquatch says, his eyes wide. �There�s at least three or four thousand Credits of meat alone��

�Nope. And Ali will disburse your share of the kills later,� I say, waving away his protests. It�s not much to me, but the difference it�ll make in their gear will be significant.

�Thank you. Redeemer.�

Sasquatch runs back to his part of the rope and heaves on the line, answering questions at the same time. I can see the dwarf snorting and a few others looking at me skeptically, but I ignore them. Not as if I care whether they think I�m an easy mark or not. I�ve got bigger fish to fry.

�Let�s go.�

Hours later, we�ve run our groups through the allotment. Thankfully, enough people have heard about our offers and are still willing to brave the ire of the corporations and Sects to fill the groups. After we send them off to get their corpses processed, Mikito and I regroup, with Harry making an appearance.

�Any trouble at the butchers�?� I ask Harry. Just in case, I had the reporter poke around the butchering yards. Since the Combat Classers we�re working with are all provisional NAGA members, they don�t exactly have preferred suppliers. That means they can work with anyone, but they also run the risk of being locked out.

�A bit,� Harry says. �Luckily they were willing to listen.�

�Good.� I turn to Mikito. �Any problems on your end?�

�No. They�re better trained than most of the humans we used to run. The only issue was their fear.�

�I get that,� I say, shrugging. The fact that they�re used to dealing with danger only in dungeons means that they�re also used to controlling the amount of danger they�re in. It leaves them unused to pushing their boundaries too hard. To those of us who survived the apocalypse, these guys play it too safe. �Can�t do much about it. Think we can move on to phase two?�

�The guards should be able to handle them,� Mikito says.

�Great.� I smile and message Katherine. One of the few things we can do to speed up the process is to add Katherine�s bodyguards to the rotation. It isn�t the best solution, but it works. The more people we have running the recruits through the dungeons, the faster they�ll level. For now at least. �So��

�Dungeon run?� Mikito says, eyes brimming with real excitement now. �I�ve got an invite for 3-2.�

�Isn�t that a Master Class-only dungeon?� Ali says with a frown.

Mikito gives the Spirit a big smile then shifts her gaze over to me.

�Fine, fine. Let�s go.� Might as well reward the battle maniac. And I admit, I�m a little curious.

Chapter 12

Amusingly enough, Wiza and most of the other corporations that had sponsored the various meetings canceled all our bookings, and that turned out to be a good thing. Once word got out that we not only were serious but were coming through on our promises, attendance at our events bloomed. Katherine�s aide found herself busy booking ever-larger meeting rooms and extending the times. As for Katherine, she and Peter found themselves besieged with complaints from half a dozen corporations, all intent on working with us if we would change our mind about the dangerous and destructive behavior Earth was showcasing.

Standing before a crowd of a couple hundred sixth-ringers, I found a sudden burst of stage fright attempting to overtake my senses. I fought most of it down with seasoned ease, mental resistances, and a constant reminder that getting eaten was infinitely worse. Slow, steady deep breathing fixed the rest.

�You know, if someone screamed fire, this would cause a stampede,� I remarked to Ali as we stood in the wings of the stage.

�Why?� Ali said, frowning as he eyed the crowd. The fact that two fire elementals were seated near the front, hissing at everyone who came close, showcased why my attempt at a joke died a pathetic death.

�It�s a saying. You know, shouting fire in a public place to create a panic?� I just get more confused looks from Ali and give up, deciding against trying to explain the matter to the Spirit who didn�t have extensive experience with non-System-generated buildings and squishy humans. �Never mind. So. What do you think their next move will be?�

�The corporations?� Ali says before smiling grimly. �Probably the usual mainstay.�

�Of?�

�Violence.�

�Against them or me?� I say, concern tingeing my voice. If memories of Earth conditions are anything to go by, I�m imagining a group of union busters showing up to stop people from entering our talks. Not that this information isn�t being disseminated in other ways.

�Probably you and Katherine,� Ali says, his tone growing grim. �And any place where you intend to take recruits in person.�

�So, here?�

�Unlikely,� Harry says, smiling slightly. �No point in trying to hinder the flow of information when the entire story can be bought for five Credits.�

�Five Credits?� My jaw drops slightly.

�Yes. Seems a farsighted reporter saw the need to head off future conflicts by releasing a detailed analysis�with video and audio recordings of previous speeches and meetings�of this unprecedented offer to the masses. It�s been picked up by quite a few news organizations,� Harry says, looking quite pleased with himself.

�Why is it so unprecedented?� I say. �I mean, we can�t be the only ones to have seen the advantages of doing this.�

�I might have been exaggerating a little,� Harry says, offering a slight shrug. �But not by much. There have been organizations�mostly charities and non-profits�who have made similar offers, but most of them ran into a few major problems.�

I grunt for Harry to hurry it up, considering the crowd is getting restless as the start time gets closer.

�Credits. Or specifically, the return of it. Wiza wasn�t exactly wrong about the fact that what we�re doing guarantees us a loss. Once you factor in losses from death and slow Level-ups, your rate of return looks dismal, especially compared to other options. In most cases, the repayment period stretches out too far to be viable,� Harry says. �Governments that have looked into these programs aren�t interested in adding more to their own population. Even border planets often struggle to feed and train everyone on planets that are being terraformed. They have better things to do than bring in low-Level individuals.�

�We�re also a Dungeon World,� Ali chimes in. �Most planets are flooded with more Combat Classers than their dungeons can handle. Everyone gets put on a rotation, so adding more people to the list is a bad idea. But Earth? We just go for a stroll outside a city�s borders and bang! We�ve got monsters galore.�

�Right. So, basically, because we�re the only actual planetary government with monsters galore, we can make this offer and potentially make a profit on it.� I recall that the total number of aliens we saw on Earth was relatively low at first. Costs, bureaucracy, and the ability to exploit other locations meant that many groups were slow to move in unless they had a vested interest in the planet, like the Truinnar and Movanna. But in the four years that I was gone, the number of aliens had increased. In time, as more and more trade routes connect and the cost of flying over decreases, we�ll see even more aliens arrive.

The clock turns over in my mind�s eye.

Time.

I walk out to the stage, letting my aura turn on and shutting up the crowd. �Thank you all for coming. Ladies, gentlemen, those in-between, and those who laugh at us with our weird gender issues��

Laughs come from a small smattering of the audience, and I fall into my usual spiel. If our world is to be flooded, better for that flood to be controlled by us.

Harry and I are sitting in the bulbous little vehicle that makes up part of the transportation network here, zipping past high-rise towers at rectum-clenching speeds when things go to hell. The first thing I notice is the minor change in velocity of an oncoming bubble. But that minor change is all that�s needed when vehicles pass by each other by centimeters.

I reflexively throw Two for One on Harry before casting Soul Shield on him. That�s all I get to do before the two vehicles slam into one another. Metal screeches, plastic shatters, and the body of the bubble vehicle warps, jagged edges of ultra-tough metal twisting and spearing within. The inertial compensators give way, throwing us toward the metal even as my Soul Shield Skill snaps into place around Harry. My contingency ring activates too, covering my body as we both are pin-cushioned by the metal and crushed.

The vehicle directly behind us fails to stop. Again, the screeches of failing metal and plastic erupts as the abrupt cry of surprise still issuing from Harry�s lips cuts off as he bounces around. The Shields give way, shattering beneath the massive forces. Surprisingly, not a single safety mechanism activates in our vehicles, forcing us to withstand the damage directly. Already I feel pain shooting through my chest, arms, and foot as Two for One shares Harry�s damage with me. I�m not even sure where his injuries end and mine begin.

Next to fail are the magnetic grips holding the bubble cars in place. The compressed mess that is the remains of our vehicle gets clipped again by another vehicle from behind, sending the remnants of the car breaking apart as gravity takes us.

As we spin around and around, I manage to get up my Harden Skill, toughening my physical defenses further. Once that�s up, I layer Soul Shield on Harry again, offering him additional protection while absently noting he�s begun healing himself. Soul Shield goes on me too. All of this is accomplished in seconds with the exertion of will and Mana. Damage accumulates even through the Shield as Harry bleeds and tears from the metal embedded in his body forcing its way out. I share the pain and injury through my Skill, sucking it all in as I focus on more important matters.

�Status?�

�This is definitely an attack. Goblin�s arse! Brace!�

I don�t even know why Ali bothers saying that much, crushed as I am within the damn vehicle. But the reason for his sudden declaration makes itself known a moment later as a rocket punches through the mangled mess before exploding. I get to watch it work, my mind processing the danger of the empowered weapon before the explosion tears apart the mangled vehicle. Last I see of the reporter, he goes through a nearby wall into one of the high rises, skipping along inside the melted and burning remnants of the vehicle.

Seconds. Everything has happened in seconds.

Dimension Locked!

Reality has been stabilized in the immediate area. You may not enter another dimension or pass through space while this status is in effect.

Note: Dimension Lock may be breached using a Master Level (4) Skill

I get thrown into the air, where additional rockets home in on me. I throw up another Soul Shield, my hoverboots engaging as I literally find myself jumping through the air and cutting apart one rocket. I dodge one only to be struck by another. Explosions ripple from the one that hit and the one I dodged, throwing me around. More rockets fill the air, along with high-powered beam rifles. I�m still falling, but my entire body is buffeted by shrapnel and continuous explosions. I cut and twist, doing my best to dodge even as I fall.

�Unlocked. Go!�

My lips pull back as I engage Blink Step, reappearing out of the blast zone and higher in the air. I spin, engaging my hoverboots as I kick off again. Seconds later, the same dimension lock status appears as beams of fire point at me, but I�m right next to one of my attackers now.

A spider-human hybrid, an Uttu, is standing next to a field artillery beam weapon on the edge of a skyrise, the weapon pointed down towards where I was. As I drop, I can see the muzzle of the weapon swing up as the artillery piece tries to retarget me. The Uttu itself is covered in a silver-and-grey armored jacket, protecting its body and fractal eyes while a portable force shield covers portions of the weapon itself. None of that matters.

A Blade Strike shatters the barrel, and a portion impacts the force shield, which quivers. I throw myself aside as the hover boots whine, their engines badly damaged from the numerous explosions. But they hold for now, allowing me to dodge an incoming beam attack. Another Blade Strike shatters the shield. Then the remaining beam attacks find me.

My skin bubbles, armor melts, and cuts cauterize under the attack. Even as I struggle to get away, I�m caught in another explosion as an arrow I never saw slams into me, wrapping me in green flame and acid. As I fall, my hoverboots finally give way, dropping me faster toward the ground. My throwing knives flash outward, catching the Uttu even as the assassin leans out to continue its attacks.

Down, down I go, spinning and twisting as I streamline my body in an attempt to get away from the incoming rockets and the area lock. My mind splits, one portion tracking the attacks, the other fast-casting the Improved Flight spell, though I hate to waste Mana right now.

�Shit. They locked the area right below you too, boy-o.�

My eyes widen. My health is already down to half of what it should be. Even layering on Soul Shield does little to slow the accumulation of damage as more attacks land on my falling form. My armor is shredded, my body wrapped in caustic acid. Harden does nothing because my defenses are crumbling nearly as fast as I get them up. They have me cornered, and I�m falling too fast to deploy things like smoke.

I finally catch a good glimpse of what�s attacking me from above. A floating gunship, one that uses mundane rotors, anti-gravity skids, and magic to keep it aloft. Beneath its stubby wings are rocket tubes spitting out more firepower than should physically be possible. And in its front are individually tracking beam weapons. There�s no convenient window to show me my attackers, but my minimap tells me there are three within.

I use the sudden increase of thrust as my spell kicks in to send my body toward a hole in a nearby high rise. Another explosion from behind shatters my Soul Shield again, sending me through the hole faster than expected. My hand grips and grabs at floor as I skip along, a sword conjured and plunged into the floor to slow me down. As I skip along, I flex my Elemental Affinity to loosen the bonds of the flooring, allowing me to crash through the floor on my next skip and the one after that. That puts some distance and visual impediments between my attackers and me.

I finally come to a halt next to a reinforced wall, my health down to a fifth, even with my regeneration. I push myself up, groaning slightly as the weapon shop�s interior vault creaks alarmingly. With an exertion of will, my spells are released, allowing my Mana to begin its slow regeneration. Another exertion of Mana and I layer another Soul Shield before I cast my other buffs and scramble for a health potion.

�You guys might want to clear out,� Ali says, making himself visible as he darts in. �You don�t want to get caught in this.�

The employees don�t need another warning. They rush out as fast as they can.

A second later, the roar of engines grows louder. Explosions and beam weaponry chew their way through the building, forcing me to run again.

�Are they insane?� I snarl, wondering how many people have died by now. How much destruction have they caused just trying to get to me? I can�t help but wonder where Irvina security is. Or who was paid off to stay away. �Ali, can you take out the ship?�

�No chance,� Ali says as he floats beside me. �The Machine Meld piloting the gunship is soaking up any damage it�s receiving. And the Master Class who�s sitting shotgun will tear me a new one the moment I start attacking.�

A beam punches through the air ahead of us, cutting across the corridor and burning to death a non-Combatant who hides behind a wall. I snarl, throwing a series of cuts into the floor, and drop through the newly created hole, putting more walls between the attackers and me. �Damn it. Security?�

�On their way. Six minutes for anything effective.�

Effective is the right word. As I run, I scan the information dump Ali is feeding me of what�s happening outside. Automated defenses, robots, and other sentinels have already started their attacks on the ship. But it�s too well-armored, too well-defended for automatic defenses meant to suppress Basic Class troublemakers to hinder it. For that matter�

�Can you channel Beacon?� I say as I stop cutting and head deeper into the building.

I�m safe, for now at least, as I put more masonry between my attackers and me. I pant, eyeing the minimap, and grimace. Too many dots, most of which are color-coded grey for unknowns. Trouble could come from any direction now, and I�m not sure which way to run, even if the dimension lock is gone.

�Possible. But you�d be stuck with the collateral damage from fighting back,� Ali says. �There�s� a lot of people.�

�Yeah,� I exhale, slowing my run and slamming down a healing potion. I watch as flesh and skin knit together, wounds slowly closing as my body fixes some of the damage.

I hate running. But backing off now is the best idea. I form a Portal, picking a location far away, and figure I�ll pay the fine later for Portaling in the city.

�And there they go,� Ali says, interrupting me.

I blink, staring at the information as the red dots pull back. The Uttu disappears from the map entirely while the three in the gunship burn oxygen and run for it, fast disappearing from my minimap.

�That�s it?� I mutter, staggering to a halt.

But it makes sense. They could cut through the building again, but I could easily run. Each angle change forces them to blow up even more areas. And with security on their way, they don�t have the time. They must have banked on finishing me off quickly and didn�t realize my defenses were sufficient to hold them off this long.

Or this could have been a warning. An elaborate and destructive warning.

�Think we should go somewhere else?� I say, cocking my head at Ali, who keeps floating in circles above me, looking uncommonly serious.

�Go where?� Ali says with a snort. �You�re the victim, not the perpetrator. Nor did you try to hide your identity.�

�Yeah�� I say, calling back up the notification when I viewed the Uttu.

??? ????, ???? ???? (???? Level ???)

HP: ????

MP: ????

Conditions: Masked, ????, ????

It did tell me a few things. For one, either it or someone in its party was at the Master Class Level to be able to hide their Status from me. Eye of Insight might not seem that powerful on first look, but its ability to cut through stealth-based Skills of a lower rank means that surprise attacks are much harder to pull off. So I�m facing at least two Master Classers�one who can lock down space and another who can hide their abilities. Potentially one, but I�d be surprised if that�s the case.

�That Machine Meld guy, how�d you know?� I say, realizing something.

�They forgot to shield the vehicle itself,� Ali says. �And I know the ability the Master Class was using. It�s a Mastery Skill.�

�Right,� I say, rubbing my face. �The Uttu?�

�No idea. It was hitting you with empowered attacks, but I didn�t get a chance to dig into the details.�

�John?� Katherine�s voice cuts in, resounding in my ear.

It�s an emergency line that patches her directly into my helmet, making my eyes widen. Shit. Did they attack her? �Trouble?�

�Yes��my hand rises, a Portal forming even as I ping the map for her location��but it�s over now.�

I drop my hand, my chest relaxing.

�They left a warning at the front doors of the embassy,� she says. �And killed Kylie and Meo.�

�How?� I snarl, my hands clenching.

�They were attacked on their day off. I�ve recalled everyone and rescinded leave for now. Are you all right?�

�We�re fine. Harry triggered his Skill and disappeared once we broke apart, so they never went after him,� I say, recalling the party notification I had ignored while fighting for my life. �Mikito�s out of contact, but she�s in a dungeon with others from Tig. She should be fine.� I doubt they�d drag in the guild with attacks like this. �I hope.�

�Stay safe, John.�

�I will.�

We cut the call as I hear the tramp of boots making their way toward me. Ali even nicely highlights the security forces in blue on my map. As they close in, I dismiss my sword and layer on a Soul Shield, getting ready to greet them.

Hours later, I�m finally free to leave the scene of the attack and make my way back to my residence. It amuses me somewhat that the investigators felt the need to play good cop, bad cop, even with the use of Skills and all the technology that showcased exactly what happened. I wonder if that�s just a way to extract more information. Or are there enough people lying and setting up fake attacks that it�s something they need to do? That�s a rather disturbing thought. In either case, I ended up spending a lot of time answering the same set of questions, all phrased a little differently. It�s only when I threatened to get up and leave that they finally let me go.

Harry finds me soon afterward, a flask in hand and a slightly glassy look in his eyes. Not too inebriated, but �tipsy� as his status condition says. That amuses me, as does the large and obvious security force that brings us home eventually.

When we�re secured in the flying car, I turn to the reporter. �You okay?�

�Just fine. Takes more than a few overenthusiastic buggers shooting me down to stop me. Not exactly the first time either,� Harry says. �Did I ever tell you about the time Daesh took a shot at the army �copter I was in? Took out the tail rotor. Bam! Lots of screaming then too. The pilot had to do an autorotative landing. Threw up so much that time.�

�And the drink?�

�Steadies my nerves,� Harry says, offering the flask to me.

�No thanks. I�ll wait until we�re back safe,� I say.

�Don�t trust the security?� His wave encompasses the multiple flanking vehicles and the security officer in the back with us.

�Don�t trust our attackers,� I say.

A downloaded memory presses into my mind, reminding me that a common advanced ambush tactic is to launch a second one after a failed first. Most untrained individuals would, like Harry, expect that the attack is over. The second ambush catches them by surprise, finishing the job. Of course, I wonder how untrained Harry is. Maybe he knows and doesn�t care.

Of course, under the System, the second ambush would need to happen a lot sooner. Otherwise, outside of the psychological blow and some minor drop in consumables, the effect of a second attack is mitigated. After all, in ten minutes, all the wounds and Mana would have regenerated fully. Which means another attack is unlikely. But, perhaps they could be counting on that.

�Coward!� Harry chugs down the drink again. �Wait till I put out a clip on them.�

�You have a lead?� I say, my eyebrow rising.

Unfortunately, I was too busy running to pay attention to any of their threads. Even the Uttu only left an impression of her connections, one that ensured I would never miss her again if I saw her. But it was insufficient for me to track her down.

�Lead, smlead,� Harry says. �I�m a reporter. Finding sources and investigating is what I do.�

The security guard with us snorts through its big, piggy nose but doesn�t say anything else.

Harry still catches it and stretches himself upward fully, fixing the alien with a serious gaze marred only by the slight green around his eyes. �Just you wait.�

�Of course. Of course. Not as if we don�t have hundreds of investigators of our own. Master Class ones,� the demihuman says.

I sigh, doing my best to ignore the byplay. �Fine. You go do that.� I lean back, half-closing my eyes. �Can you contact all the people who we�ve signed on? Tell them to be extra careful. And let�s look at moving up the timeline for shipping them off-planet.�

�What if they get hit en route?�

I�m unsure what to say. Insurance helps, but that�s no guarantee that the pirates won�t ignore the damn insurance and go ahead with physical attacks. Especially if they�re being paid more to attack than the insurance would pay out. �Find better armed transports.�

�Sure. I�ll just click my little red heels and wish them up.�

�Ali�� I send warningly.

The Spirit sniffs. �You�re always so uptight when you don�t get a chance to hit back.�

Ignoring the Spirit, I close my eyes, reaching out with my Skill to check on the threads that run from me. If someone wants to target me, let�s see if I can find them. And maybe make their day a little bit worse.

Chapter 13

An hour and change later, I�m standing in front of Katherine, having opened a Portal directly into her office. Between the exception granted by the ambassador into her offices and the one offered by the security forces, I�m now allowed to pop between locations with less hassle. While Portaling isn�t exactly banned, it is significantly discouraged via the requirements for a license. One that, until just recently, I had not been granted. Amazing what the destruction of a large swath of a neighborhood and just over a hundred civilian deaths can do to the wheels of bureaucracy.

Interestingly enough, Oria is here too, seated across from Katherine when I walk in. Hondo has his hands behind his back, glowering at me as I step through the shimmering black Portal. I don�t miss the way his hands twitch, sliding a pair of knives back into their sheaths once it�s clear I am who I am.

�Representative Oria. Perfect,� I say, offering her a half-smile. �I was hoping to speak with you.�

�And I, you,� Oria says, fixing me with a disapproving look. �How is it that a simple request has become the talk of the town?�

�Talent.�

�Do you think this is a laughing matter?� Oria says, eyes glowing. �Lives have been lost, property damaged, reputations sullied. All because you people could not do a simple task without complicating things.�

My lips curl up slightly as her words dig into my guilty conscience. �You wanted a Dungeon World. You have one. What�s the use of having a Dungeon World in the Edge�s corner if you aren�t going to use it to its full potential? We could easily take hundreds of thousands of people, grind them through all our monsters, and spit them back out to be productive members of society. But you�re too scared to take the steps, too scared of the Traditionalists, the corporations with a stake in the unfair institutions. Well, tough. Time to ride the tiger.�

�Ride the wha� ah. Right.� Oria�s eyes flash as information is injected or searched or something. Her cold eyes regard me as a finger slowly moves in a circle on the armrest. �It seems that Graxan�s warning that you�re a troublemaker and foolhardy actually understated the matter.�

Katherine looks between us before leaning forward, coughing gently to attract our attention. �Whether the actions taken were wise or not, rescinding them would be an admission of defeat. It�s not something my government is willing to do. Nor, I think, something that your Duchess or the other members of the Edge desire. We would be losing reputation with no gain.�

Oria looks at Katherine before she finally inclines her head slightly. �No. We would not want you to rescind your offer now.�

�Yes!� Ali crows.

�That does not mean we are happy with what you have done,� Oria says. �Still, we shall set that aside and discuss appropriate compensation later.�

I growl slightly, but Katherine shoots me a look that tells me to stay silent. I cross my arms and press my lips together. I�ll tell Oria where to shove it later.

�In the meantime, we need to deal with these attacks,� Oria says. �I understand you�ve seen a drop in your recruits since the incidents?�

�We have. There are scattered reports that Artisans are facing additional violence. Some have had their workshops and wares destroyed. Others have been fired. And of course, the companies have been purchasing debts, as they have promised,� Katherine says. �Couple that with the reduction in recruits from the Combat Classers after the most recent incident and we are down by around thirty-eight percent.�

�Not as bad as we feared then,� Oria says. �We have arranged for a few of our troop transports to arrive soon. Those transports will take all your recruits directly to Earth. In turn, Earth will pay a premium on their transportation to cover the dangers we expect to see in space.

�In addition, the Duchess has made arrangements for any of your Artisan recruits to draw upon an interim loan program to cover any increases or repayments needed. If the Irvina have decided to give us such good clients, we will take them. As for the Combat Classers��

The woman�s shark-like grin reminds me that I do not want to get too far on her bad side. There�s a killer instinct in her, one that has nothing to do with blades or spells but is just as deadly.

Still, I have to chime in. �Let the ones who want to go, go..�

�Pardon me?�

�We don�t want any Combat Classers who are scared away by a little blood in the operating room. They�re going to see a hell of a lot more of it on Earth. If they aren�t cutting the mustard now, they won�t do it on Earth. If you don�t believe me, ask Hondo.� I nod at the glowering Weaponmaster who reluctantly nods in approval of my words.

�Very well then. That shall save some Credits. The ambassador and I will discuss the details of the arrangements to provide additional protection for the Artisans, but there is one last matter,� Oria says.

�The Master Class attackers.�

�Yes. Preliminary investigations and analysis show you were targeted by at least three Master Class attackers,� Oria says. �You are, I must say, fortunate that they decided not to unleash their full array of attacks.�

I grunt but have to admit she�s correct. If they had access to high-Level damage Skills like mine, they sure as hell didn�t use them. Then again, not all Master Classes are geared toward battle. The fact that she knew enough to say what she did means� �You have more details about the attackers.�

�Yes.� Oria�s lips thin for a second. She looks at Hondo, who waves, sending over a series of notifications.

�The attackers you faced are a known for-hire network team currently working for the opposition. While we know of their identities and Skills, their location continues to be hidden from us. The current Credit cost of locating the Wolves of the Air Team stands at just over fifty million Credits,� Hondo says. �Two attempts have been made to take them down. Both have failed.�

�Oh shit. I know that name. One sec� goblin�s children. That explains a lot.�

�Explain.�

�You can stop asking your Spirit to research the matter,� Hondo says stiffly. �I was on the second team to take action. What we did not know was that they had set up a counter ambush. Our team was destroyed, leaving only me alive.�

�How�?�

�I was left alive as a warning,� Hondo says, his fists clenching. �As the lowest Leveled member of the team, I was considered the most� insignificant.�

�Thus your fall from grace,� I say, slowly nodding. �And your bad temper.�

�To scum like you��

I wave away his words, ignoring the man as I look over the team details he has sent. That makes him growl more, only to be shushed by Oria.

Evanline Brae; Scourge, Lady of Many Rooms, Monster Hunter (Goblins, Hakarta, Truinnar,�), more� (Space Lord Level 14) (M)

HP: 1280/1280

MP: 5280/5280

Notable Skills: Space Lock, Aura of Reality, Spatial Prison, Off to the Side, Dimensional Shards, Squish Your Head. Illu�s Blessing of Mana Regeneration

�Care to explain? Some repetition here.�

�Space Lord�Master Class version of the Space Mage specialization. Concentrates on altering and shaping space itself and, to some extent, the dimensions that intrude on that space. Space Lock is your everyday Dimensional Lock, just slightly differently flavored. Off to the Side is a wide area spell that isolates a location from outside interference, putting the entire location just a bit off from every other location. That�s how she isolated you during the attack. Threw the area around you a kilometer out of whack from reality, making sure that reinforcements couldn�t just portal or teleport in,� Ali explains, shedding a little light on something I hadn�t even thought to question. Old assumptions about how long it takes police to respond conflict with my own learned experience of jumping from place to place.

�How come I never got a notice that was happening?� I say.

�Didn�t affect you directly, just the area. It�s so wide-area that there�s no warning until you bump against the edges. It shifts the entire space, but the rules are still the same. Part of the reason why she needed to use Space Lock independently too,� Ali says.

I grunt, making note of this problem. �Is this why it�s so expensive to find them?�

�Partly. Pretty sure the entire team is also decked out and counter-intelligenced up the wazoo. But if where they�re staying is out of sync with normal reality, a lot of normal tracking spells and Skills won�t work.�

I ask, as a thought strikes me, �Is that fifty million Credits also due to politics?�

�Yes. The factions that make use of them have invested a significant amount of funds into ensuring their continued existence,� Oria says.

�Got it.� I turn back to the information as Ali continues.

�Aura of Reality is the one that forces people back into normal dimensions and also makes Stealthed attackers appear. Space Prison is an extremely hard-to-escape trapping spell that slides you into your own warped space. She used that to great effect against Hondo�s team. The other two are wide area and individual attacks.�

�Evanline looks to be a pain,� I say.

�She is,� Hondo says. �Powerful and smart. She split my team, took out our frontline till it was too late.�

�Damn,� I say, rubbing my chin. �Recommendations?�

�Your resistances will help against her direct attacks. It won�t stop her prison, which is what she�ll likely use against you if she�s looking to isolate you further,� Hondo says. �Don�t let her.�

I stare at the rather unhelpful Weaponmaster before snorting. Fine. Time to go shopping then. Next up is the Machine Lord.

S�Baxu; Exploit 3-x-189, Monster Hunter (Goblins, X-23, Slimes,�), The Lumierre Prize of Artisanal Excellence, Grandmaster Brewer, more� (Machine Lord Level 21) (M)

HP: 1830/1830

MP: 3210/3210

Notable Skills: Machine Meld, Overdrive, Boosted Performance, Gift of Sentience, Networked, MagiTech Rules (3)

�That�s the gunship pilot, right?�

�Yup. He�s the most flexible since he can change his gear to suit the situation. Like a gunship to deal damage and run away. He�s also the one who hacked the bubble cars and crashed you.�

I recall the damage notifications and the volume of fire from those rockets. I assume that�s where things like MagiTech rules come into play. �Lots of firepower, not a huge amount of damage.�

�Har. That�s because you had Harden, your damage resistances, and gear on. Without it, you�d be singing a different tune. But yes, his max damage is lower overall. He�s more a high-volume-of-fire kind of guy. Less effective against you, but better for dealing with softer targets or Summoners. Overall, he�s probably the least worrisome since he�s not technically a direct Combat Class.�

�Like Sam.�

�Like Sam was.�

I dismiss the status information. If he�s anything like Sam, I could expect a completely different loadout and vehicle the next time we clash. Frustrating that taking out his vehicle would be harder than normal, but nothing to get too worked up about.

Hurquji Sani, Son of Ze�us, Monster Slayer (Hydra, Goblins, Kobold, Bulls, Harpies, �), Blood Drenched, Duellist, Winner of the Four Ivies, more� (Titan Spawn Level 13) (M)

HP: 7830/7830

MP: 3810/3810

Unique Skills: Demigods Body, Resistance to Pain, Father�s Blessing, Gifted Strength, Demigod Regeneration, Ares� Blessing

�Titan?� I say, my eyes widening slightly.

�Elder race. Not many of them left, since their planet got destroyed.�

�The System?�

�Nah. Ze�us, Poseidon, and Hades got into a three-way tussle and ended up destroying the planet. Happens when you�ve got three Heroics who are relatively balanced,� Ali says.

�Is Zeus going to be a problem?�

�Ze�us. And nah. He�s a rather famous negligent dad. Has to be really, with the way he acts. When your spawn number in the tens of thousands��

�I thought you said they�re a dying race.�

�Sure. From a few billion to less than a hundred thousand. That�s one heck of a drop.�

I give up on arguing with Ali and turn my attention back to the room. �Correct me if I�m wrong, but Hurquji�s your basic brawler?� If so, that�d explain his lack of interaction in our latest fight. No place for a guy who punches when we�re fighting mid-air.

�If you call a Titan �basic,� certainly,� Oria says.

�Do not underestimate the Titan,� Hondo says. �His abilities give him unending Stamina and incredibly high resistance to damage. While he might not be able to alter the trend of a battle at the snap of his fingers, the Titan can finish the entire battle by himself if left unchecked.�

�Hits hard, soaks up damage even better. Got it.�

My words make Hondo glower at me even more, which I admit is part of the point. Objective complete, I return to my perusal of the Wolves.

Trols Vroldrons, Webweaver, Monster Slayer (Kobolds, Ussma Flies, Samak Vipers), One Shot, more� (Ryou-ri-rr Level 48) (A)

HP: 3870/3870

MP: 2840/2840

Notable Skills: Target Lock, Charged Shot, Lurker in the Web, Spider�s Camouflage, Weapon of Choice, Stamina to Power, Mana to Power, Triple Tap

�The Uttu?� I say. �I don�t like that One Shot title.�

�Relax. She tried it already and failed. She probably got that earlier on. It�s one of those conditional titles�kill a hundred people who are twenty Levels above you with one attack. Nothing that impressive.� I kind of want to protest that yes, yes, it is impressive, but Ali continues. �I�m more interested in that Weapon of Choice Skill. Makes her significantly more dangerous when she�s using a specific weapon, and it�s also a little more flexible than your Soulbound weapon. So long as she designates it beforehand with sufficient training time, it increases damage output by eighteen percent. But they aren�t indestructible. That means if you destroy the weapon��

�Boom.� I get more than a few exclamations of surprise from the crowd around me and I offer them a slight smile. �Sorry. Reading. All right, it seems I�ve got a rough idea of what we have here. No dedicated healer, but it seems that�s not been an issue.�

�They�re an assassination team. They hit hard and fast. And then they use Evanline�s and S�Baxu�s abilities to leave. It�s extremely hard to lock down a Space Lord.� Hondo grimaces slightly. �It limits our tactical options because we have to take her down.�

�Why?� I say. �They�re mercenaries, right? Isn�t making it too expensive to deal with us the better solution?�

�What are you suggesting?� Oria says while Hondo bristles.

�Focus fire on the weakest. Take them down the next time we have a chance. If they start losing people each time they attack, they�re going to be a lot less likely to keep the contract,� I say.

�Losing an Advanced Classer means nothing to them,� Hondo says. �The loss of the Webweave is negligible. They have churned through many others since my disgrace.�

�But my point still stands,� I say. �Your way hasn�t resulted in any wins. Also, what�s with this we?�

�I have been tasked by the Representative to aid you in dealing with them,� Hondo says. �From now on, I shall be accompanying you.�

�Hells to the no.�

�John!� Katherine�s voice rises and she slaps the table, drawing my attention to her. �You will take the offered help.�

�You think I can trust this guy not to stab me in the back?� I say, ignoring the way Hondo bristles.

�The Weaponmaster will not betray his honor. He has never betrayed his honor,� Oria says, her voice as cold as the wind over a Yukon lake in the middle of winter. �Even the mildest scuff on it sends Hondo into a tizzy of anger and recrimination. His job is to guard your back and kill them. He will not touch you.�

�Take the Weaponmaster, boy-o. That�s three sentient-trained Master Class killers after you. You can�t win without help,� Ali says. �If you don�t recall, the best we could do was run like hell.�

I want to object, but the Spirit has a point. I did barely any damage to the Uttu, and I never even got a chance to leave a scratch on the others. The best option I had was to run, and as Oria has already pointed out, it�s likely they weren�t actually trying to kill me. Just pass on a message to back down. Kind of stupid really. If they had done any research, our opposition would know I don�t back down.

I draw a deep breath, looking at Hondo. There�s a burning anger in there, a sneer that he does not hide. But beneath all that, there�s a solidity to the man too. A bone-deep stubbornness that�s comforting in a way. He won�t run, he won�t bow. He has a personal grudge in this, one that transcends the one he has with me. He�s also probably skilled enough to handle at least one of the Master Classers.

Which means�

�Fine. Now, how do we find them?� I say.

The silence that follows is quite telling.

Portaling back to our residence takes only a fraction of a second. Mikito is absently walking out of the bathroom, playing with the clasp of her nano-formed collar helmet. She offers me a smile that freezes before she explodes into action, Ghost Armor forming as she moves sideways, polearm appearing in her hand as she points it behind me. I twitch and shift, sword forming in my hand as I spin about before thought catches up with reactions.

�Hold!� I roar, making my sword disappear.

Hondo sniffs, one hand raised only slightly to ensure that a lunge doesn�t catch him completely unprepared. But otherwise, the Weaponmaster looks entirely unimpressed by Mikito and her actions.

�What is he doing here?� Mikito says, lowering her naginata but neither dismissing her armor nor putting away Hitoshi.

�He�s our newest buddy.� I walk over to the kitchen and poke around the Galactic equivalent of a refrigerator, looking for something to eat. The first shelf carries a series of flat, metal-coated pre-packed meals that I recall being particularly tasty. One advantage of the pervasiveness of sci-fi technology and System Classes is that Cooks and Chefs are very, very talented. I pull out three of the pre-packed meals and walk over to the dining room, eyeing the pair in their silent standoff. �If someone wants to grab the alcohol from the fridge, we can eat and talk.�

�With him?� Mikito almost snarls.

�Oh, come on. I�ve gotten over it, and I�m the immature one here,� I say.

�He really is.� The grumpy Spirit glares at me and floats over to the fridge before yanking out another pair of meals and a case of beer. �Mikito, Hondo�s given his word that he won�t harm John. And now Hondo�s going to give his word not to harm you or anyone else in the party. Right?�

Hondo hesitates before he inclines his head. �I do. For as long as we share a common enemy, and until we have provided an in-person report to our respective masters, I shall undertake no adverse action against you or members of your party.�

�See? All good.� I push the meals across the table. �Now, sit down, eat, and let�s talk.�

I tap the seal on my meal and sit back, crossing my arms as I wait for the meal to be properly heated. While it does that, I fill Mikito in on what happened at the meeting. The Samurai looks less than happy even when she gets the information on the Wolves, but she relents enough to sit down and eat.

�Where�s Harry?� I ask, looking around. Don�t want the reporter randomly walking in on a conversation he shouldn�t hear.

�Out.�

�Is that safe?� I say, frowning. Then I realize who I�m talking about and shut up. If there�s anyone in our group who would be safe, it�s Harry. Not only do his Skills provide a measure of protection from being targeted, the guild he is in frowns heavily on attacking their people and have, at times, taken steps to make their displeasure known. Of course, if he�s actively looking for the Wolves of the Air and feeds information back to us, it�ll be a problem for his professed �neutrality.�

�He said so. Wants an interview with them, he says,� Mikito say, meeting my gaze. I see the worry in her eyes, the concern for our new friend. But his job is dangerous, no matter what choices we make.

�This is the reporter?� Hondo asks.

I nod. The Weaponmaster snorts loudly, tapping the ready meal and letting the metal roll backward to showcase slabs of meat and carbohydrates. There�s even a good mixture of weirdly colored vegetables, neatly sliced. And of course, the piece de resistance�a triple-layered dessert.

�You have a problem with Harry?�

�I have given my word to cause no problems.�

�Wasn�t the question. What�s your problem with Harry?� I ask.

�Nothing. I just dislike such creatures.�

�Creatures?� I frown.

�Reporters, John,� Ali says around a mouthful of the dessert. As always, the Spirit has started with the sweets. In fact, he�s got both meals open, the desserts from both trays in front of him.

�What�s your problem with reporters then?�

�They are the most useless Class. Less useful even than Slime Trainers,� Hondo says. �They spread refuse as badly as any Sanitation Worker and constantly agitate the commoners. They provoke the Combat Classers, delude the Artisans, and embarrass our proper rulers. Well. Perhaps they are not all bad.�

His last words are met with stony silence before it slowly dawns on us that the Weaponmaster made a joke. By that point, it�s a little too late to laugh, so we end up staring at him in shared embarrassment. In unison, Mikito and I duck our heads and chew on the monster meat.

A few minutes later, after I come up for air, I look at the strange group that makes up my dining companions. The sight before me makes me blink, but I push the thought aside and sip on the Apocalypse Ale. �So what do we know about the Wolves?�

�We have our contacts looking for them, but�� Hondo shrugs.

I have to admit, I understand his reaction. After all, they�ve been looking for this group all this time. It�s not as if looking a little harder will make a difference. Probably.

�Hondo, have they ever been this blatant before?� I say.

�In their attacks? No. But you underestimate the anger you have generated. Local law enforcement might desire them caught, but they have neither the Skills nor the Credits to do so, not while stymied by those with vested interest. As for the Master Class bounty hunters, few will take a commission on a team this powerful.�

�How about Heroics?� Mikito asks.

Hondo shrugs.

When he provides no further answer, Ali butts in. �Heroics kind of do their own thing. Or whatever the organization they chained themselves to tells them to do. While Irvina has three Heroics, they�re mostly dealing with other problems. Unless the Council decides to set them loose, you won�t see them move.�

�And the Wolves are under the thumbs of the Irvina already. I�m guessing the Edge has their own Heroics. So� what? A cold war situation where the Heroics are never put in play?� I say.

Hondo inclines his head slightly, and I sigh. Joy.

�Bait?� Mikito says, deciding to shift the direction of our pointless conversation.

�Probably.� I lean backward, sipping on the beer, and pull some whisky-infused chocolates from storage. I offer the pieces to the others before popping one in my mouth. �Obvious but��

�But if they don�t take it, they�ll fail to finish their mission,� Hondo says.

�Do we know if they�re contracted to keep coming at John?� Ali says, raising an eyebrow. �I mean, their attacks and other actions are already having an effect on recruitment.�

�We do not,� Hondo says, �but we must assume a contract is in effect. Slowing down the recruitment is insufficient for their ends. They must destroy the program and make an example.�

�Katherine? If they go after her��

�Unlikely, but we have added to the defenses your people have set up,� Hondo says. �Attacking an ambassador on Irvina carries significant penalties. It would�at the very least�increase the bounty on the Wolves to the point that other groups would target them. In such a case, I would not be surprised if some of the more proactive Heroic Combat Classers bumped them up on their list. Or the Council even authorized some of the local Heroics to take action.�

�Wait. Heroic Combat Classers have a list?� Mikito says, eyebrow rising.

�There are� individuals who feel that their position allows them to right wrongs,� Hondo says, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

�Wannabe superheroes,� Ali adds in his two cents.

�That�s amazing,� I say.

�Oh please. Paladin.� Ali points his wrapped-up meat-meal at me. �As if you aren�t going to become one of those.�

�Hey! All I was doing before these guys bothered me was reading,� I say.

�It�s true. He was very boring.� Mikito nods sagely.

�Exactly. Wait.� I glare at the little Japanese woman, who flashes me a smile, before I change the subject back. �So Katherine�s relatively safe. The rest of the diplomatic corp are in lockdown. How about the combat teams?�

�Portal.�

I nod at Mikito�s short and entirely reasonable suggestion. �Good call. All right, then we have a game plan? Or at least, the outline of our strategy?�

�This is no game. But yes, I believe so,� Hondo says. �I shall be accompanying you in any dungeon run.�

�To the dungeon entrance. But you�re going to run a dungeon and a team yourself.� When he moves to say something else, I shake my head. �We�ll use ones with clear boundaries so we can�t be attacked while running them. In the meantime, you�ll help run as many people through as possible.�

�That is not my job,� Hondo says with a snap.

�Maybe. But it�ll help us finish this faster. The higher Level we get these recruits, the better the campaign looks. And that means the more pressure the Wolves will be under to finish this.�

Hondo stays silent for a time before he speaks slowly. �Very well.�

After that, we talk details. Both where and when we can expect to be attacked as well as how we should handle matters. We talk about our strengths and the Wolves� strengths, as well as potential weaknesses. It�s almost nice, working with Hondo. He�s vastly more experienced and offers some great suggestions. But a portion of my mind can�t help but think that we�re asking for trouble in the future.

Ah hells. What is, is. And what it is, is that we need him. And him, us.

For now.

Chapter 14

Walking out of my Shop the day after, I find Hondo standing impatiently in front. I was amused when I got to the Shop and found out that the Weaponmaster did not have the right to enter. Rather than give him a guest pass, I left him outside to stew.

�Did you get what you needed?� Hondo says, and I nod. �Then let us go.�

�On it,� I say, raising my hand and opening up the Portal to the dungeon.

Seconds after we step through, I�ve got another Portal open for the other members of the security team. Hondo organizes the crowd of Combat Class recruits who have been waiting for us under the watchful eye of the local security forces. Due to the potential for conflicts among the guilds and loot stealing, security around dungeon entrances is always significantly higher. Since the attacks, the security teams have been doubled.

�About time,� Mikito says grumpily as my last Portal pulls her from our guild entrance.

Surprisingly, Draco comes out of the Portal too, eying the crowd. �Redeemer. I would like a word.�

�Right. Can I send the others out first?� I say, nodding at the groups who have mostly organized themselves.

Draco accedes to my request and soon enough, everyone�s lined up and pushing into the dungeon.

�Thanks. Now, what�s up?� I ask.

�I have received word from Tig himself,� Draco says, his eyes gleaming slightly. I fail to read them, uncertain if he�s amused or interested. �In short order, a citywide announcement will be made. Any attacks on dungeoning parties that contain members of our guild will be dealt with directly by Tig and his party.�

�Dungeoning parties?� I frown.

�Aye. On that note�� Draco tilts his head, and I follow his gaze to a group of other aliens arriving. Surprisingly, their Status information publicly displays our guild affiliation. �Say hello to your new volunteer dungeon party leaders.�

�Why?� I frown at Draco, a bit concerned by this sudden change.

�Three reasons. Firstly, we�re going to be recruiting directly from your people. I understand that Tig has already discussed a number of additions to our Guild Houses on Earth. Secondly, allowing attacks on dungeon parties�for any reason�is a bad idea. That�s why our guild will not be the only one making their stance clear. The second and seventh guild wars are not something we want to see repeated. Lastly, and Tig wanted me to emphasize this.� Draco falls silent, letting the silence stretch out between us. �You owe us.�

I let out a surprised bark of laughter at those words and the all-too-serious look on Draco�s face. When the lizardman doesn�t change his features, I sober up. �Of course.�

�Good. Try not to die. We�ve invested a lot into this experiment of yours.�

�You know, I could use another Master Classer��

�Not happening,� Draco says, shaking his head. �Supporting you in the manner we�re doing is already stretching matters. Directly providing you with individual help would be� well� a Skill too far.�

�Fine, fine,� I say, waving off Draco and gesturing for the waiting group of recruits to come over.

In the meantime, Ali�s been sorting out our help and sending out notices to the bodyguards and our recruits.

I�m about to enter the dungeon when Draco calls, �But that wasn�t a bad idea.�

�What?� I say, confused as my mind is wrenched from working out the most optimal formation for these new recruits.

Draco doesn�t answer me as he wanders away, chatting to his own people.

I stare briefly at the lizardman�s tail before throwing up my hands and pointing at a laggard recruit. �Come on, we don�t have all day. Trust me, the monsters don�t care what color your skinsuit is. You�re all red on the inside.�

�Actually, Oeonae muscle is yellow in color and our blood is green,� the fussy humanoid with a hard-shell frill across his head and extra-large jaw says.

�In!� I roar.

�Oy! Pretty boy,� I say, pointing at the Oeonae. �Get your ass back in the line.�

�But I�ve got to heal her��

�In. Line!� I shout, grabbing his shoulder and tossing him back in line. I wince as I overuse my strength, sending the poor bastard bowling into the group of robotic monsters charging the group.

There�s stunned silence among the adventuring team while the robots swivel, taking the change in circumstances and rolling with it, like the robotic monstrosities they are.

�Did you fall asleep and get switched out for a Changeling? Get moving, you bunch of Goblin asses. Back up your friend!� Ali says, his gestures even more agitated.

The group of beginner Adventurers jerks into motion, launching themselves at the robots in a frenzy. The lead Warrior uses his halberd to bash away a pair of robots while a red-skinned devil poofs and reappears next to the downed Oeonae to jab electrified gauntlets into an attacking robot.

�And you!� Ali spins to me and points a finger. �Stop helping.�

�Fine,� I growl and cross my arms. Beelzebub flips over the shorting monster and sweeps another robot off its feet with his tail. �Some good talent here.�

�If you don�t kill them,� Ali retorts.

I grunt and step back, leaving the Spirit to harangue and generally train the kids while I walk the line, watching as they battle the Level 20+ monsters. This is one of the strangest dungeons I�ve ever been in. Here, you walk into a room that rotates, moving on its own accord. Monsters stream out while obstacles and other objects pop up, giving new terrain features. The entire room assembly moves up, down, and sideways through warped space, connecting to different corridors depending on some esoteric puzzle mechanism that involves killing monsters in the right sequence to get to the end of the maze. Or, as we�re going to do, just killing everything along the way since there�s a max number of changes allowed per session.

�John. They�re tapping out,� Ali calls.

I take my time conjuring my sword as I eye the group. The support members of the party are nearly out of Mana. The front-line fighters are panting and groaning from numerous injuries, Stamina nearly tapped out and, in some cases, Mana too. I watch as the purple-clad Oeonae gets swarmed again by robots that punch and stab with their drills while Beelzebub gets tripped up and smashed into the ground.

�John?�

�Redeemer!�

I swing my blade three times, Blade Strikes flashing out to tear and rip, cut and dismember. And then it�s over. I could have done it in one, but then I�d cut apart the team.

�What in the System�s name was that!� The Oeonae pushes himself upward, flecks of acidic spittle flying from his mouth.

�Pretty sure that was me saving you. All of you,� I say.

�You could have acted sooner. The Spirit told you to act faster,� a female Yerrick says while bent over, sucking in deep breaths. Her compression clothing is torn, showcasing fur on her stomach. It seems the Yerrick has invested in self-repairing armor, so everything is slowly getting put back together.

�This is the third fight. None of you have been conserving your Stamina or Mana.� As I speak, the robot remains slowly fade into the ground, their bodies broken up by the nanites that live in the room itself. A slight shudder runs through the room, then we�re moving again, shifting to a new location. �And we�re about to enter the fourth fight. Exactly how are you expecting to survive this?�

�With you,� Beelzebub says as he bandages his leg. �Isn�t that what you promised?�

�We did. But what�s the point of me doing all the work? If I do that, how much experience are you all going to get?�

There�s a long silence as they consider the question. As the room clunks to a stop and metallic pillars rise, I raise my hand and cast Metal Walls. The newly formed barricade blocks off what�s coming and gives our people time to rest.

The Oeonae looks at me, firming his stance. �But what can we do? We�re out-Leveled by a significant margin.�

His words get the group nodding, and I find myself sweeping my gaze over everyone. When I see them actually listening, I point at each person in turn. �Stick to your roles. No running back and healing people, even if you can. Use your healing on yourself if you need it.� This to the Oeonae.

�Use your spells to hinder and bind instead of damaging.� This to the gnome, who blushes, setting off his cute freckled nose as he does so.

�And, for god�s sake, don�t step out of line if you intend to hold a melee line.� The Yerrick snorts in acknowledgement.

�Next��I cast a second Metal Wall to keep the monsters back��you guys aren�t helping each other. You�re meant to be a team. Start acting like one. And yes, I know you�re a random group we picked up. But that doesn�t mean you should act like a bunch of independents.

�Also. Slow it down. We change rooms each time we clear it. So why are you rushing the battle, especially the last kill?�

�Mother�s udders,� the Yerrick swears, breaking the stunned silence.

I glare at the group before I sigh, raising my finger. �Last thing, people. Stop panicking. You�re going to Earth. It�s going to get hairy. It�s going to get tough. You need to keep thinking, keep on the balls of your feet. Or hooves. Whatever you�ve got. Sure, this is your first time in this dungeon. But if you stop trying to figure things out, you�re going to die.�

When I see my words sink in, I flash Ali a wry grin. Weird to play the good cop in this relationship, but drill sergeant Ali is not the right person to tell them this. Not and keep them moving and fighting when the walls come down. So here I am, teaching a bunch of kids how to fight. Again.

Six rooms later, the kids are getting the hang of it. They�ve got the latest final robotic creation down on the floor, attempting to pick up its pieces. The robot keeps attempting to regenerate its accordion arms to prop up its saucer-shaped body, but every time it manages to get a second army fully created, either the Yerrick or Beelzebub takes out the other arm, dropping the robot to the floor. The rest of the group is drinking water, chewing on regeneration food aids, or just resting.

�How about you, Eezoo? Why are you going to Earth?� the Oeonae asks the little gnome.

�Credits, what else? My pod family were caught in the Iuwil outbreak four years ago. Nearly all of them had their Mana channels damaged. We�ve scraped enough together to get my second ma the healing she needs, but my first ma and third pa have it worse,� the gnome says. �Getting to Earth will give me more Credits to get them a proper healing. Otherwise, we�ll be stuck constantly buying the Looma freshers.�

�Double-orificed worms, those freshers.� Oeonae spits to the side. �Fix you up for a few months but then you have to buy them again.�

�Yeah. But at least they�re cheap. What about you?�

�Nothing so noble,� Oeonae says. �Just got married and a litter. We need to make enough to eat, you know? Can�t own a place on the scraps you pick up here.�

�She a Combat Classer too?�

�Ja. We decided it�s best not to be on the same team. That way there�d be one of us for the litter. The slimeballs are with the parents right now. Hopefully we�ll be able to Level up enough to bring them to live with us before they get out of the larvae stage.�

That image makes me shudder internally, so I stop eavesdropping. They�re already turning to talk to the next person in line, but I decide even my curiosity has limits. I�m an open guy with a decent level of respect for our new alien brethren, but there are limits. And so I resolve not to pay further attention to this discussion while I concentrate on the next step of our dungeon run.

The room lurches again, coming to a shuddering halt. The entrance doorway twitches and flows, expanding as the nanites that make up the room eat away at the metal walls and replace them with larger blast doors. It was strange to watch the first few times, but by this point, we�re used to it. Even if this particular door is significantly larger than anything else we�ve dealt with thus far.

�All right, kids, get your long-range attacks ready. Power them up if you can because you�re going to get one shot. Then boy-o here is going to finish this,� Ali says.

�Really? We can last longer than that,� the Yerrick growls, hefting her axe.

�You�ve done well. But there�s no point in chancing a death now,� I say, stepping forward. �Boss monsters often have nasty one-shot kills, so better to just take the experience. Anyway, you�ll all be getting his loot.�

�Really?� Beelzebub says. �I mean, the others mentioned��

�Yes,� I say. No point in trying to insist on the truth. Better to let them experience it.

The group gets ready while I turn to the blast doors. They slide up to reveal a robotic monster that could only be described as the bastard love child of a dump truck and a mecha. The moment the monster makes itself known, a wide array of attacks hit it, from beam rifle shots to spells. Beelzebub disappears, reappearing in a puff of smoke right above the monster, daggers stabbing deep into the Boss. The Boss glows, electrifying its body and sending Beelzebub into spasms, his health falling precipitously.

�Nooo!� the friendly gnome screams as he sees Beelzebub fall.

Blink Step takes me to the Boss, where I snatch and throw the falling body. Unfortunately, that puts me way too close to the Boss. Electricity arcs, jumping through my body and making my muscles twitch.

Too bad for the Boss that lightning is one of my highest resistances. It�s annoying but not painful. Not yet at least. Lips pull into a grin as I conjure my sword and thrust it into the monster�s head, cutting through armored skin with ease. The Boss throws itself from side to side as it attempts to dislodge me, but it�s too late. I trigger Blade Strike after Blade Strike with my sword embedded, my other hand gripping a convenient handhold to keep my balance.

The entire fight takes half a minute at most. Blade Strikes eat away at its internals, shutting off the electricity before the Boss mecha falls, lights dimming. A moment later, I have the monster looted while everyone gathers around to berate the experience-stealing idiot of a devil. The fact that Beelzebub managed to do more damage than the rest of the melee fighters means he received a large chunk of the experience. Especially since he risked his life.

�Well, that could have gone better,� I say.

�You okay?� Ali says, floating over to me.

�Just tired,� I say, waving away Ali�s concern.

There�s not much to be said. Beelzebub was stupid to take the risks, but the System rewards such behavior. So chances are he�ll probably do it again. And sooner or later, he�s going to die. Sometimes, I really wonder who built the damn System. Idiotic, stupid-ass counterintuitive rewards and benefits.

�All right, children, time to go. You can kick Red�s ass later,� Ali calls, waving the group to the newly created entrance.

I follow, the boss monster already fading into the ground. No convenient Boss monster corpse to loot this time.

As I walk out, I stretch and get ready to do it all over again.

Chapter 15

Hours later, our timeslots have been used up and everyone who could be run through has been. Thankfully, with the guild�s help, we managed to process a much larger than normal number, with many runs giving at least one if not two increases in Levels. Of course, with so many people going through, and some of the helpers being lower Leveled, there have been a few unfortunate accidents and one death. Unsurprisingly, the news of the loss was a blow but one that most took well. Our job, our lives as Combat Classers can only be described as dangerous.

�Are we done yet?� Hondo says, arms crossed grumpily.

For all his complaining, the group the Weaponmaster dragged out all went up by two to three Levels each. It seems some of the Weaponmaster�s passive abilities not only increase the stats of those in his party but also increase their Leveling speed by distributing some of the experience he would gain to them.

�Almost. Just waiting for them to get home.� I shut down the Portal after the last of the recruits step through. �And done.�

�Pretty sure when they gave you the clearance to use a Portal, they weren�t thinking about you using it for others,� Ali says.

�Then they should have specified their intentions,� I say, sniffing slightly. As if I would make people walk around in danger of being ambushed if I didn�t need to.

�Very well. Open one of your Portals to the prime dungeon,� Hondo commands.

�Sure� wait. No can do. Not been there,� I say.

�Closest point then.�

�Okay�� I pull up the map and look around. There are a few areas, though some of them are in high-traffic locations. Then it hits me that I have another option. �Or I could Scry it. One second��

Hondo snorts and crosses his arms, waiting for me to cast the spell. It takes a little bit of adjusting, but eventually I not only locate the entrance to the giant hole in the ground that leads to the prime dungeon but also the location meant for those teleporting in. I mentally snort at seeing the location, realizing that once again, Galactic Society really has two sets of rules.

�Why are we going here?� I say as we walk through the blank oval and take in the relatively quiet dungeon.

In the distance, a score of Advanced Classers stand around, packs, floating gravity trains, and a pair of mechanoid animal drones beside them. A short distance away is a platoon of armed and armored soldiers, all of them clad in the same uniform and weaponry, listening to their officer detail their attack plan. As for dungeon parties, that�s it. Unlike so many other dungeons, the prime dungeon is sparsely populated at the top.

�Training,� Hondo says. �We need more Levels.�

Hondo�s words make me really look at the man, taking in his Status. Nearly five years since we�ve seen each other, give or take a few months, and in that time, Hondo must have trained like crazy to reach the Level he has.

Hondo Ehrish (Weaponmaster Level 48, Master of Blades and Guns, Slayer of Orcs, Goblins and Unika, Destroyer of Monsters, The Unbroken Warrior)

HP: 4,510/4,510

MP: 2,070/2,070

Conditions: Weapon of Choice, The Master�s Body, Battle Flow, Greater Regeneration, Greater Mana Regeneration

�Looking to Class up?� I say.

Ali giggles while Hondo and Mikito look at the Spirit flatly. Obviously he�s the only one who got the pun. I�ll take it, considering I�m punning in English but speaking in Galactic.

�As is your friend,� Hondo says, inclining his head toward Mikito.

I look at her Status Screen and find my mouth dropping in surprise.

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden, Junior Arena Champion of Irvina (Middle Samurai Level 48)

HP: 2030/2030

MP: 1440/1440

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo

Galactic Reputation: 15

Galactic Fame: 6,323

�Wait. You went up two Levels?� I say as I find my voice. �And what�s this Champion title?�

Mikito rolls her eyes while Ali cuts in. �Took you long enough. She�s had that title for two weeks now. If you�d just been oblivious for another two, I�d have won the bet.�

�I earned it a while ago. While you were busy in your Questor library,� Mikito says. �The championship came with a very nice experience bonus.�

�Oh. Wow,� I say, scratching my head. Damn. Now I feel like a right slacker. �Congrats.�

�No need,� Mikito says, waving away my words. �It was only the Advanced Class portion of the junior level.�

�Still, that was well done.�

Hondo coughs, drawing my attention back to him. �We do have a deadline. We are on a limited access pass. In five hours, we�ll be teleported back here. I would prefer to actually make use of this pass.�

�Fine, lead the way, honcho.�

�It�s Hondo.�

�Right, right. Sorry,� I say, flashing a slight smile to Mikito.

She sniffs at me, and I flush guiltily. Okay, maybe I�m teasing the Weaponmaster a little too much. I kick myself mentally for being so juvenile and resolve to be better.

Hondo leads us to a group of freight elevators, where he flashes a pass at the console. A second later, we�re all speared by beams of light and a new Status Condition appears for us. It�s a limited access pass to the prime dungeon, along with a tracking and teleportation spell. Once the doors slide open, we enter the freight elevators and are lowered at ear-popping speed.

�So� details on the dungeon?� I say. It�s not as if I ever did any research on it. Beyond the fact that the dungeon was Irvina�s first, and thus most powerful, dungeon, I have little information on it.

�The prime dungeon is the first dungeon ever created in Irvina. It was initially located outside of the city, with the dungeon built as a classic dungeon format. As such, it extends deep underground,� Hondo says. �The hole you see is to allow airflow to the lowest parts of the dungeon. If you were cognizant of space manipulation, you would feel the way the space itself is manipulated around the dungeon, allowing it to continue growing without impacting the city. Understand that the dungeon itself is many times the size of Irvina.�

�It�s bigger than Irvina?� I say, my jaw dropping slightly. That�s kind of hard to imagine, considering Irvina is what we poor humans would consider a megacity.

�Yes,� Hondo says. �During the delve, if you are ever lost, make your way toward the air intakes. That will lead you to the exit and the way up. This will hold true in all locations but the labyrinth floors. We will not be visiting those floors.

�Like any good dungeon, it is more dangerous the deeper you delve. As such, we are entering a floor midway down. Floor sixty-seven. If we do well, we�ll enter floors sixty-eight and sixty-nine. Every ten levels or so, there is a major boss, but unlike static dungeons, these zone bosses wander. As such, care must be taken while engaging in battle.�

�Right, big nasty monsters wandering around. What kind of Levels are we looking at?� I say, stretching and layering buffs on myself. I eye the slowly ticking floor counter, amazed that we�re still going down. Each floor must be huge.

�Level 90 to 100. The Zone Boss is expected to be in the Level 110 region,� Hondo says.

�Expected?�

�They evolve,� Hondo answers. �It is why quests are regularly issued to clear the dungeon. Left alone too long, the prime dungeon becomes even more dangerous.�

�Interesting. I wonder if that happened in Vancouver.� Frustrating that I never had time to learn more about dungeons. I know about them in the most academic of senses, but details like their continued evolution have eluded my study. Most of the details about dungeons for the System quest were easy enough to locate, with many researchers already having drained the well dry. There are, basically, no easy research studies to be done for the System Quest. Dungeons might be an artifact of the System, but they are not, as far as we know, central to the mystery of the System itself.

�Monster types?� Mikito asks as the elevator jerks to a halt.

Hondo touches the side of his neck and a helmet forms around his face.

The doors slide open, revealing the most messed up thing I�d seen in a while. Take a horse, skin it, and meld a humanoid torso where a rider would normally be. Give said rider long arms with black-tipped claws that drip acid and can reach past the horse�s eyeless eyes, then add a stench that makes me gag. Mikito reflexively has her Ghost Armor formed, protecting her even while my eyes water.

As I put on my helmet to protect my sinuses, I scan the creature for details.

Nuckelavee (Level 87)

HP: 2140/2140

MP: 390/390

Condition: Odor of Disease, Aura of Decay, Body of the Grave

Aura of Decay

In the presence of an individual with an Aura of Decay, all will crumble and fall. In death, there is decay. In decay, there is peace. Rest, mortal, knowing your demise is part of the inventible.

Effect: -20% to all resistances. Negative resistances invoke damage over time effects

Hondo doesn�t even hesitate, obviously expecting the creature. He explodes into action, rushing the Nuckelavee as the polearm he uses appears in his hand. Mikito follows, the pair proceeding to cut and slice the monster apart. I hang back, looking at my sword then at the long weapons the pair wield, trying not to feel out of place. But�

�I�ll get the next one then,� I say, mostly to myself.

I catalogue Hondo�s Skills, eyeing the things he can do. Like Mikito, he has a Skill that extends the blade of his weapon, making it bigger and sharper. There�s definitely a penetration Skill or two in his repertoire, which explains the way he peeled apart my Shield and Sabre�s armor the last time we clashed. I don�t see the speed boost he used the last time, but it�s frightening how fast the damn Truinnar is naturally. But I see nothing of his greater Skills, none of the third- or fourth-tier sure-kill attacks.

�Pick up the corpse,� Hondo says, looking over his shoulder to me. �And stop hanging back. You need the Levels too.�

I grunt, sauntering forward and dumping the corpse in my Altered Space. Right or not, I�m not entirely sure I like being ordered around by the Weaponmaster. Still, I follow along until we hit the next bend in the earthen corridor, which expands into a full-sized cavern. There, a full half dozen of the monsters stand, waiting for us.

The next few seconds are filled with bright lights as we trigger our long-range attacks. Blade Strikes or the Class equivalents flash forward from our weapons, Mikito�s and mine moving in arcs of power while Hondo holds his polearm under his armpit and fires a concentrated beam directly from the head of his weapon.

Two of the Nuckelavee drop before they reach us. Then we get to experience a whole new slew of unpleasantness as the monsters� overlapping auras actively work together. Along the way, the other carrion monsters make their presence known. Small, crawling insect-like figures nip at heels, bite the corpses, and glow with power.

�Thousand hells,� I snarl, Blink Stepping away from the group then throwing Blade Strikes.

I reappear too close to a mushroom-like object that explodes, coating me with some pollen substance that burrows into my Shield, draining its integrity. I yelp, jumping into the sky and triggering my new hoverboots. High above the fight, I attack the monsters, spamming my cutting attacks into the group�s backs and staying away from the overlapping decay domain.

Mikito and Hondo split apart slightly, giving each other enough space to wield their polearms effectively. Mikito�s Ghost Armor cracks and fades before rippling and refreshing in a constant battle against the auras. The Japanese lady ignores the byplay, her naginata dipping and cutting, lopping off legs and tearing off arms as she fights. Not surprisingly, Hitoshi doesn�t seem to be affected at all by the Aura of Decay.

Hondo ducks a blow, catches a second on the haft of his polearm, then twists, kicking one of the monsters in the chest. The Strength he wields is incredible. While leaving the ground Hondo stands on unmarred, he sends the monster flying all the way to the other side of the cavern to pancake against the wall. The man never stops moving, ducking and cutting, shrugging off glancing blows to land deadlier, critical wounds on the monsters. When his polearm breaks, he stabs the broken haft into a convenient leg and pulls another, the weapon glowing with the light sheen of power that covered his former weapon.

My eyes narrow slightly as I watch, Eyes of Insight hinting at something�

�He�s got a targeting Skill,� I send to Ali.

�Weakness Must Be Driven Out. It�s a first-tier Advanced Class Skillfor a Weaponmaster. More powerful than the basic Trainer Skill of the same type. Allows a Weaponmaster to see the flow of battle and where their opponent is more vulnerable to attacks.�

A twitch of my hands and I send my knives flashing forward, lodging in a Nuckelavee horse skull. It thrashes, and long fingers dig into its own skull as it attempts to rip out the daggers. As the monster deals with my distraction, I continue my conversation.

�Old school training.�

�Just like toots.�

I wince at Ali�s reminder. Mikito grew up under the kind of strict tutelage that valued beating a weakness till the recipient learned to deal with the flaw in their defense. And since I�d spent uncountable hours training with the woman, she�d beaten me down too. One last slice of my Blade Skill and I send the Nuckelavee attacking me to join its dead comrades. A gesture sends a slew of Mana Darts to join Ali�s, ending the last of the spore trap. Once the floor is clear, I drop down and pick up the corpses.

�Why did you leave the line?� Hondo snarls at me.

�Stacked auras. Also, between the two of you, there�s not much space for me to fight,� I say. �And this way, I could contribute and not get attacked.�

�Cowardly.�

�Effective,� I retort.

Hondo glares at me and I shrug, waiting. Eventually, Hondo leads us down the corridor while Ali finishes putting away the corpses. I chuckle but take the time to switch out my nice jumpsuit for one of my less-pricey versions. If it�s going to get destroyed, I might as well make sure it doesn�t cost me too much.

Over the next three hours, we tear through the dungeon at a good clip. Eventually, we fall into a routine of fighting and I even join the pair on the front line, dishing out damage. Since we�re all melee combat fighters, this only happens in the biggest rooms, where it�s possible for both polearm wielders and myself to stand in line. The stacked damage from the aura is bad enough, such that I find myself storing the hoverboots and anything not directly necessary for modesty. Even my soulbound sword slowly degrades over time, forcing me to resummon it occasionally.

As for the other two, they deal with it in their own ways. Mikito�s Ghost Armor Skill seems to be absorbing the majority of the effects of the aura, leaving her clothing in one piece. Her naginata, Hitoshi, is special of course. Hondo, on the other hand, tosses the broken weapon away each time it gives up the ghost, drawing a similar weapon from his inventory. As for his clothing, it seems to have a passive resistance ability that defies the aura.

We head down the moment we find the descending tunnel, content to leave for more difficult environs. Outside of the vermin monsters who Ali seems to have a hate-on for and the spore mushrooms, the Nuckelavee are the main opponents here. Fighting higher Level Nuckelavees and variants of the damn spores and vermin still hasn�t pushed us to our limits. I hate to admit it, but I�m getting bored.

That is, until we end up in a large, empty cavern that hosts a single pillar of crystal. There is a small ledge leading up to the pillar and a couple of stalactites on the floor, but for the most part, it�s just a giant cave. We cautiously enter the cavern, finding nothing extraordinary until we�re next to the column of crystal itself.

�What is this?� I say, tapping on the crystal with a bare hand. The hiss from Mikito and Hondo comes a little too late. The crystal resonates from my tap, a slowly growing noise that fills the room, increasing in volume and sending a thrum straight to our bones. It�s not painful, just slightly uncomfortable. �Huh.�

�What are you? A child?� Hondo snarls. �Never touch strange things in a dungeon.�

�Oh, come on. Worst-case scenario, it just dumps some light or blasts us with acid. Nothing we can�t handle,� I say defensively.

Mikito growls at me, the tiny Japanese swivelling her head toward the numerous exits then the resonating pillar.

�You have thought of something, Spear?� Hondo says.

�Trap.� Mikito points at the entrances.

I open my mouth to point out that there�s no such indication on my map, only to be forced to shut it as dozens of dots appear.

�Goblin shit,� Ali says.

�Yes.� Mikito twists her hands, withdrawing items from her inventory. Underhand tosses send webbing grenades to the entrances of some of the smaller locations, blocking them off.

Hondo is doing the same on his side of the crystal. I move away, reaching into my inventory to check what I have.

�Ali, go high please,� I say.

Right. Let�s see. Webbing grenades and fast-forming foam walls are perfect for the smaller entrances. I have three portable shield generators too, but they�re too low tier to do anything but annoy the Nuckelavee for more than a few moments. Better to save them.

Oooh. Mines.

Ali shoots upward, headed for the few entrances that are above ground level, and drops off foam-covers and webbing grenades. I do too but also add a series of portable mines to the area in front of me. I make sure to key the mines to go off on command only though.

Not that I�ve got a lot of time to get all this sorted. By the time I�ve got the barest defensive line up, the Nuckelavee are on us. That�s when I channel my Mud Walls, focusing on the two largest entrances in sight. Those have been left alone thus far. As the Nuckelavee charge, I release my spell, earth rising from the front of the entrances to envelop the horse-demons.

Screams and choked cries flood the room, but I�m too busy paying attention to my side to deal with it. I shape the walls, flooding the entrances as best as I can with the conjured matter. Even so, the leading edge of the Nuckelavee wave have broken free from the webbing grenades and other blockades at the other entrances.

I tie off the spell, leaving the Mud Walls in place, and step forward, sword in one hand and throwing knives in the other. Within seconds, the monsters are on me and I dance, Thousand Blades and my original blade clashing with Nuckelavee claws. Sharp claws cut at bare skin, tearing through rotting clothing even as my body attempts to fight off the rot. The stacked auras of decay attack from within, corrupting organs, weakening bones, and rupturing blood vessels as I move. Blood drips from my nose, blocking my breathing and leaving a salty taste in the air. Back and back again, they push me.

�Enough!� Hondo roars.

The command washes over the room, freezing the Nuckelavee for a few seconds. I trigger the mines, only to realize that two-thirds of them no longer work, their mechanisms destroyed under the demonic aura. The pitiful explosions do little but wake the monsters from Hondo�s Skill. Mikito uses the break better, forming a twenty-foot blade with her weapon and sweeping the extended cutting edge across multiple necks. Blood fountains and the stench of decay and disease expands.

�Frack it. Beacon from Angels,� I say, thrusting my hand toward the sky.

I layer the attack again and again, its power reduced in these tight, underground confines. But the damage spreads across the group, those near expiring falling over. As the bright beams of light and golden glyphs disappear, a louder sound appears.

A creature, a distorted mass of flayed humans and beasts, crawls out of the largest tunnel. Multiple heads stick out, most missing eyes, just gaping wounds that pour pus and blood. From a few of those wounds, alien insects emerge, boiling around the monster before burrowing back into its red, distorted flesh.

�Goblin shit.� Ali flies down, coming to a standstill next to me as he finishes throwing a lightning bolt. �Boss.�

Mother Nuckelavee (Zone Boss Level 113)

HP: 11830/11830

MP: 3218/3218

Conditions: Pregnant, Aura of Greater Decay, Disease Vectors

�Armory of the People,� Hondo intones as he raises his hand. Gold and silver ritual circles with weird glyphs appear, hundreds of them rotating above the Truinnar. From each circle, a weapon emerges. Sometimes it�s swords, axes, polearms. But more modern weapons appear too, including rockets, grenade launchers, beam pistols, slug throwers, and more. With a sweep of his hand, the weapons unleash their fury at the Zone Boss in a furious roar.

The suddenly compressed air from hundreds of weapons firing staggers me backward, pressuring my already weakened eardrums. They pop with a tear, and blessed silence appears while the Nuckelavee caught at the edges of the attack are torn into pieces. Swords bounce, arrows burrow, and rockets explode as Hondo unleashes his attack. Those within the actual blast edges aren�t just ripped apart but turned into bloody mist.

Out of the cloud of blood and dirt, the Mother Nuckelavee staggers forward. It�s lost nearly two-thirds of its life but is still alive. The Mother gestures with a few hands, fingers shaping arcane motions. The air swirls toward her, sucking in floating pieces of her body and other Nuckelavee. As they reach the Mother, the creature�s health ticks upward.

�Redeemer!� Hondo snaps.

I growl in acknowledgement, bringing my sword forward. But Mikito takes off first, her Hasted form blurring as she rushes through the crowd, polearm extended.

�Right. I guess I�m on support then. Fastball special, Ali,� I say, charging up the Enhanced Lightning Strike spell.

I grin slightly as the Spirit floats a short distance away, his body glowing. As I form the connection of electrons between the Spirit and myself, I unleash the spell, converting raw Mana into electric potential. The blast strikes Ali, who takes the channeled energy and directs the bolts of lightning at the remaining Nuckelavee and particularly large, floating masses of flesh that the Mother is pulling back into her body.

While I deal with the riff-raff, Mikito is dancing through the lightning, her blade leaving trails of blood and light as it cuts the Mother. At times, it looks as if Mikito is literally dodging lightning, her movements so fluid and fast. It�s a ballet of death that ends with the Samurai jamming her polearm deep into the Mother�s chest, the weapon extending within the creature and exploding out its back.

It screeches, pounding the ground and sending another wave of exhaustion and dizziness through us all as it dies. I cough, spitting out blood, and eye Mikito�s health bar. Of us all, she�s nearest to bottoming out. With a wave, I cast a Greater Healing on her. Her health creeps up a little before it stabilizes, the lingering effects of the aura still warring with the woman�s natural regeneration.

�Well, that was fun,� I say.

Mikito shrinks her blade, kicking the corpse off her polearm, then spins it around, flinging droplets of blood and rotten flesh from it. Ali tosses a last Mana Dart to finish off a crawling, dislimbed monster, then eyes the swirling bat creatures above. None of them come down, instead fleeing the room.

Hondo glares at me and stalks away from the crystal pillar trap, making a circuit to check each entrance. I sigh and slump against the now quiet pillar, mentally requesting Ali to deal with the corpses. As he does so, I pull up the notification I�ve received.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 26 as an Erethran Paladin. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 14 Free Attributes and 1 Class Skill to distribute.

I get that little rush of dopamine from achieving a new Level and find myself smiling slightly. Good reminder that I have a Class Skill still to assign. Along with the attribute points. Truth be told, I wanted to hold off on the Class Skill point until I managed to get to the third tier. Or at the least figured out a more thorough build. Part of the reading in the Questors� library was meant to help with that a little.

Now, here I am, expecting to fight three Master Classers, which means I need every edge I can get. In some ways, I�d love to up my Advanced Class Skill Portal. Or perhaps Army of One. That�s a nasty sure-kill attack. But using my Paladin Class Skill on it would be a waste. Better to focus on my Paladin Skills.

On that note, I eye the columns in my Skill Tree. The third branch is all judgment-related Skills, and those make no sense to upgrade. Well, perhaps Eye of Insight. Upgrading the Eye might give me a chance to break through their Stealth Skills. But I think that�s still a relatively low chance.

My aura and Eye of the Storm Skills are great, but more meant for large fights. Paladins are meant to be standing in the middle of a war and rallying their side to them. Vanguard could be useful though�the additional damage and boost in Physical Stats could make a huge difference in a very short timeframe. I don�t use it as much, due to the cost, but if I�m going one-on-one with the Titan, it might make sense.

Penetration is so damn useful, but I�ve already dedicated quite a few points, relatively speaking, to it. Adding more seems like a marginal increase to an already useful spell. On the other hand, Beacon of the Angels has been my go-to wide-area Skill. Hell, it�s my only wide-area Skill. Unlike spells, it takes almost no time to put in motion. Even if there�s a minor delay, it�s still better than standing around trying to cast a spell. Adding another Level to it might give the Skill the punch to do real damage.

Eye of Insight or Beacon of the Angels. They both have good points to them. Eye of Insight might be more useful long term and over multiple situations, but Beacon of the Angels seems to be a decent Skill to shore up my weak area effect damage. Resolved, I dump the point into the Skill and eye the new information.

Beacon of the Angels (Level 2)

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the maximum 25 meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

That�s what I call a satisfactory increase in damage.

After that, assigning attributes is easy. I split them evenly among my go-to combat attributes. Once that�s done, I eye the newly developed Status Screen, soaking in the details.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor

Health

3650

Stamina

3650

Mana

3440

Mana Regeneration

287 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

249

Agility

329

Constitution

365

Perception

186

Intelligence

344

Willpower

372

Charisma

124

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Instantaneous Inventory*

Cleave*

Frenzy*

Elemental Strike*

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps*

Tech Link*

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Analyze*

Harden*

Quantum Lock*

Elastic Skin*

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

As I eye my Status Screen, my gaze falls back on the Aura and Eye of the Storm abilities. I don�t use them much�mostly because thus far, my enemies have been either too strong or too weak to bother. But perhaps it�s time I look at them as boosts for my friends. Not that these two need it necessarily. Yet thinking of Hondo�s experience Skill, of the way he led the kids�and hell, us�perhaps it�s time to look at how being in a team changes how I fight. Especially with my new Skills.

Mikito rests on her polearm next to the Zone Boss. I catch her eye and find her smiling slightly. I return the smile, basking in the shared sense of accomplishment of raised Levels. One Zone Boss down. Next time, we�ll have to go deeper.

Chapter 16

For all our caution and concern, the next few weeks are quiet. Oh, the corporations and the sects keep pushing at our recruits, buying up debts and occasionally laying into them physically. But a few well-placed quests, along with the movement of many of our recruits into holding areas, mean that the number of incidents has decreased. Our recruitment numbers grow, such that we�ll easily meet the initial quest numbers once these immigrants actually set foot on Earth.

There are a tense few days when the ships arrive and everyone is transported onto the ships. Needlessly stressful since there�s little chance of an attack on the station or the beanstalk itself. Irvina�s System Commander is infamous as one of the highly active Heroic Classes in Irvina. The Eye of Heaven. The Watcher of Watchers. His Heroic Class Skill All Seeing Eye means he knows everything that happens on his station and, if he pushes it, in the entire damn Solar System. Add that to his ability to teleport himself to any location in his domain at will�bypassing any Dimensional Locks in play�and no one tries anything on the stations under his watch. Much, much better to wait until everyone is on the ships.

Still, we worried. To that end, we shuttled people back and forth to the beanstalk with care, eyeing everyone and triple-checking the loading of the ships for bugs and smuggled bombs.

In the end, the ships leave the solar system without a hitch. After that, it�s a multi-week journey where the ships will travel to Earth via a series of random jumps. Without a logged or planned shipping route, it�s impossible to purchase their route information beforehand. That still leaves some viable options for attack�Forecasting and Divination Skills being among the most likely culprits�but it does make things a lot harder. And harder is all we can hope for.

After that, we start the entire process again. Training ourselves and new recruits. Putting them in sponsored and guarded locations. Offering loans when necessary. We�re watching and waiting. The only thing we know is that there�s still a contract out on me and Katherine. But when, how, they�ll be put into play is unknown. Even getting that amount of information from the Shop was expensive. And so we wait.

Weeks pass by. One morning, I�m staring at the gruel I somehow inflicted on myself for breakfast. For the life of me, I can�t recall why I thought gruel was a good idea. Porridge I can do. Rice porridge is good, tasty food. Perfect for breakfast, especially when combined with some fried breadsticks. But that hasn�t arrived yet. Sooner or later, I�m sure. But gruel? Gruel the Galactics have a version of. And seeing it, I somehow thought it�d be a great idea to try it. Somehow.

The doors slide open, and I eye Harry as he saunters in. The reporter offers me a weary grin as he drops into the chair beside me and takes my bowl of gruel, spooning my food into his mouth without a word. I watch, bemused, as the reporter swallows the meal down before he leans back, letting out a little burp. One hand comes up, wiping dark skin clean.

�Nice to see you too,� I say.

�Thanks.�

�How are you doing? What have you been doing?� I say.

�My job. Just finished my interviews with the Wolves of the Air,� Harry says. �Fascinating group.�

�Did you now?� I say, forcing my voice to be light.

�Oh yes. Took weeks to set it up, weeks to get their trust. Got to cut and sculpt the episode, but it�s fascinating really,� Harry says. �Utterly fascinating. The world they live in as hired assassins is such a different world. Do you know, they have to walk a very fine line? Can�t get too flashy or else the Heroic Classes get annoyed. Can�t turn down too many jobs or else, well, what�s the point of such a team? Really polite bunch too. Very apologetic about the attack on me.�

I blinked, trying to figure out Harry�s angle here. Their angle. I knew he had meant to go speak with them, but now he sounds a little like a fan.

�Oh, they also wanted to say they were quite impressed. Fast thinking on your part, running into the building,� Harry says. �But they wanted you to know that if you don�t make yourself available to be assassinated soon, they�re going to have to take steps.�

�A threat. How novel,� I drawl.

�Just completing my part of the deal.� Harry sits up properly, looking at me seriously. �They�re not going to stop. They didn�t mention it directly, but their last job went badly. Tried too hard and well�� Harry shrugs. �Let�s just say they need a win.�

�Isn�t that a little too far?� I say, touching the table. I don�t know how he edges around his non-Combat status or what his various rules are, but what he said seems a little too pointed.

�It�s a little close,� Harry acknowledges. �About as much help as I can give. I will say that you should watch part one when I�m done.�

�Only part one?�

�Well, part two will depend on what happens. With you,� Harry says, pushing back from the table.

I chuckle but take his point. I�m sure something in his expos� will be of use. Though I�m still amused that an assassination group was willing, even happy, to do an interview. Cloak-and-dagger kind of loses its meaning if you shine a light on it. Then again, if you�re an assassin, once you�re down that road, it might be hard to find a new job. Not without some major time repairing your reputation.

I watch the reporter go and sigh, half-closing my eyes as a sudden wave of weariness washes over me. Another threat. Another fight. More loss. More death. More blood. And all I wanted to do was read. Just find an answer�

�John?� Ali�s voice cuts in, jarring me from my spiraling pity party. �Time to go. Or else you�re going to be late.�

�Yeah. Sure.�

I shake off the darkness in my mind, push it aside, and compartmentalize the feeling. Easy. So easy after so many years. Even if doing so always leave a smudge of it behind, a trace. It�s not necessarily healthy, but sometimes, all you can do is keep moving. Because the other option is stasis. And stasis is not death. Death is decay, destruction, dispersal. No, stasis is worse than death. It�s the end of everything useful or good. Just a pause without hope of rebirth or renewal. Not without breaking it, not without momentum.

A hand rises.

A Portal opens.

And the day starts.

The Portal opens back into our apartment, and Mikito walks through first. I follow, nodding goodbye to Hondo, after Ali finishes a quick check of our apartment. No lurking Master Classers, so I shut the Portal, leaving the Weaponmaster to his evening.

Three steps later, as I�m headed to grab some grub from the fridge, I get a notification. I blink, surprised to see the name, and find myself hesitating. A com-call isn�t unusual, but the caller� I push my doubts aside and take the call, smiling slightly at the redheaded beauty on the other end.

�Lana. Good timing. Just got out of the dungeon here,� I say.

�I know. I tried earlier and got a no connection signal,� Lana says. �You�re pretty busy.�

�I am. Got a bunch of newbies to Level up. There a reason for the call?�

�That hurts!� Lana says, touching her chest. �So much for staying friends�� The redhead pulls a face and long-buried emotions twinge. But only a little, because I can tell she�s teasing me. �There�re a few things I need to talk to you about for the investment business.�

�Go for it.� I know that the cost of such a long-distance call through the System�s comm networks is high. Instantaneous communication should be impossible, but so should a million other things. Though� I note that as another area to look into in the Questors� library.

Lana quickly outlines the issues�mostly director-level stuff that I either need to grunt and assent to or rubber stamp decisions on. A good thirty minutes later, we�re done.

�See. It wasn�t so bad,� Lana says, flicking her fingers to dismiss notifications. �How have you been otherwise?�

�Not bad. Better before all this quest rubbish but�� I sigh. �But not bad.�

�Only you could say being targeted by three Master Classers is a �not bad� situation,� Lana says with a roll of her eyes. �How�s Mikito?�

�Good. Do you want to talk to her?� I say, seeing an out.

�No. We�ll chat later. So�� Lana seems suddenly uncomfortable. Ever since our breakup, things have been a little more strained. Hard to find a balance, especially now that work talk is over. �Roxley asked about you. Mentioned he talked to you a few weeks ago.�

�Yeah. We caught up in the Shop. Had some loot to sell.� Silence falls between us, and I consider breaking the connection. But she�s a friend, someone I cared about. Care about. And if I don�t try, I�m not sure if we�ll ever have a relationship outside of what we were. �How�s your boy?�

�My boy?� Lana�s eyes sparkle, but she doesn�t offer a name. She knows me well enough to know that I�d promptly forget it. �He�s good. He actually moved up here. I have him running our land reclamation efforts.�

As mundane as that sounds, I know the truth behind the prosaic-sounding name. The lands we�re trying to reclaim, like infrastructure and the surroundings that connect our settlements, are areas often overrun by monsters. Dungeons have taken over important areas, like the dams in northern BC. The job is as much about fighting as it is infrastructure reconstruction.

�Good for him. And you.� Obviously things are going well. Once again, things get awkward. �So. Everyone doing well? Jason and Rachel? Their kid?�

�Kids,� Lana reminds me. Right. There�s an unborn one in there too. �They�re good. Amelia and her wife ended up adopting their third. This one�s a baby actually. Found abandoned.�

I smile, listening to the gossip. I�m grateful to hear about the mundane and dangerous lives of our friends. It�s strange to think that five years after the apocalypse, the world has begun to stabilize. A strange, violent, and different world. But more stable.

Time moves on. Two days later, I wake up to a new notification from Ali. He�s floating next to me, a bowl of popcorn in hand, watching something. Rather than answer my question, he maximizes the entire notification until it takes over my vision.

Harry�s report. It finally dropped.

The first portion of the report is background information. Harry builds the tension, discussing unsolved cases, assassinations. Occasionally there are voice-overs, the Wolves mentioning a detail or two about the case. It builds the story, informing without revealing. It�s a masterful work of directing, and I find myself drawn in.

The next portion is about the attacks, successful and not. Again and again, voices overlay footage of the battles. Sometimes its footage from after the assassination. Other times, it�s clear footage of the attack itself taken from security cameras and other nearby recording devices. In a few surprising instances, the footage comes directly from the Wolves, often from the mecha�s point of view. Or the view of the sniper scope. The Wolves speak of the attacks in a detached manner, talking of business, of their successes and their occasional failures. I soak in the details, chocolate sliding down my throat as I watch.

An Advanced Adventuring Team that broke away from their guild over a dispute over spoils. Tracked down when they left for a Dungeon World, attacked after exiting a particularly hard lair, and bodies disposed of without trace�till now. Their disappearance had been taken as a matter of course.

In Irvina, an apartment building at night in the second ring. Home to the vice president of Jimee Artifacts. Security bypassed by the Machine Lord. Space Locked by the Space Lord. The Titan Spawn enters with another, and they kill everyone in the building, splashing the walls with blood and covering the floor with viscera. Long before the Skills fail, before security can react, the Wolves are gone in their gunship. Only a single son lives, the eldest, who was on a school trip with friends to a pleasure planet. Cut off-screen to an interview with a security consultant who discusses some of the ensuing security upgrades in both the second and third rings.

The Weez Guild, an up-and-coming Artisan guild. Built like a cooperative, with an extremely low overhead. Set up in the seventh ring. This time, no Space Lock is required to seal the guild headquarters. Instead, the low-slung building is engulfed in a firestorm, a Space Prison, and Dimensional Shards. The destruction is complete, and the guild disperses the next day.

Successes. More successes than failures. And then, their last mission before mine.

An attack on Kalidia, the Heroic Wendigo of the Beast Plans. The initial attack goes well. Space Locks keep out trouble. A Dimensional Lock stops Kalidia from fleeing. A plasma cannon fires upon the Hero, peeling away a quarter of her life. Immediately, her health regenerates at a visible level, but the Titan Scion and two other Wolves appear, moving to suppress her regeneration as the mage pelts her. Magical restraints, web grenades, and abyssal chains are all used to slow down Kalidia. It works. Until it doesn�t.

The video shorts out then, the view growing blurry. The entire view pulls back, clearing up some of the graininess. In the video, things boil out from the ground, from the sky, cracking open space itself. Inky, two-dimensional figures crawl and squirm into the air, pulling down the Wolves. The fire mage goes down first, its slug-like body torn to shreds as one of the creatures crawls into its body from its mouth. The Wendigo pulls another fighter close, using their mouth to tear open their chest as it feasts. The Wolves fall back, forming up around the Space Mage. She dismisses her Space Lock and recreates it, forming a protective barrier. Long enough for them to disappear, but not before leaving another of theirs behind.

Leaving only the three Master Classers. And an abject failure on their record.

The documentary moves on to a wider perspective. Of the effects and uses of such teams in the Galaxy, interviews with past victims and the individuals who have left, escaping the dangers of Galactic Society and the threat of such groups. I soak in the information and let my mind turn over the documentary.

Days later, the Portal opens back into our apartment and Mikito walks through first. I follow and, surprisingly, so does Hondo. It�s unusual for the man to follow us after a dungeon run. I tilt my head, letting the Portal disappear even as a ping arrives from Katherine. At her request, I open a new Portal, one that allows in her stream of bodyguards before the Ambassador walks in herself.

Immediately, it�s clear that something is wrong. Katherine looks haggard, her normally perfectly coiffed hair disturbed, stray locks escaping a tightly wound bun. There�s a frown on her face, and her eyes are red-rimmed and grief-laden.

�Beer. Now.�

Ali flies off to the fridge and grabs cases of Apocalypse Ale while Katherine sits down.

�What is it?� I ask softly.

�They hit Earth.�

My chest clenches, squeezing air out of my lungs, and Mikito lets out a little gasp. Too shocked to speak, I wait for Katherine to continue.

�A half dozen cities. Ten towns. And we�re still trying to get the numbers on the villages. All attacked. Civilians. Adventurers. Combat Classers. Everyone was a target. They went after our people too, with numerous assassination attempts.�

�Lana? Roxley?� I ask. �The others?�

�Roxley is fine. They didn�t touch him or the Duchess�s holdings,� Katherine says. �Lana was injured, but she�s fine now. Shadow saved her while Roland and Howard finished her attackers. Rachel�� She coughed, her face freezing. �They hurt her. And the child. She miscarried.�

I freeze, pain for my friend, for their loss, engulfing me. It cuts deep, opening old wounds. So many losses. And I realize this time, it�s my fault. If I hadn�t pushed for this, if I had just done the job without adding my stupid little flare to it. Without deciding to poke Galactic Society and its stupid notions in the nose. If I had just stopped when they told me to.

�Who else?� I ask softly.

�Aiden�s fighting for his life. He was hit with a parasite that�s fighting to take over his body. Last we heard, he�s comatose. They can�t extract it, not easily. They intend to move him into the Shop, but there are complications,� Katherine says softly. �They killed Rae. Rob nearly died. They took out half of his security group. If the Champions hadn�t teleported in�� Katherine shuddered, shaking her head.

�I�m sorry,� I say, my eyes closing. Damn it. I knew our security was less than adequate. Especially compared to many of these older, more secure states. I knew we needed time to get built up. But I never thought they�d attack us on Earth. Here, sure. But Earth� �Has Rob changed his mind?�

�I don�t know,� Katherine answers, her arms crossing. �He�s dealing with Earth and the representatives. Dealing with the attacks.�

Mikito grabs a bottle of beer and pops off the cap. She shoves the alcohol toward Katherine then opens another for herself. Ali stares at the bottles before he opens one for himself and me. I watch as he floats the bottle over before I snatch it from the air and down the bottle. Eyeing the two cases on the table, I twist my lips slightly. I glance toward Ali and the Spirit bobs his head, eyes unfocusing as he puts in an order for delivery. We�re going to need a heck of a lot more alcohol.

This. This could change everything. But I�m too tired, too hurt to think about it. So I sit, and for tonight at least, I drink with my friends for the memory of what we lost. Around us, Hondo and the guards watch.

Night turns to day. Katherine doesn�t leave our apartment as the day drags on. She stays for safety, for comfort, for convenience. We get information in dribs and drabs, news arriving via Galactic news services and, later on, Harry.

The attack was shocking, it was painful, but it was, thankfully, a single-day affair. There are no follow-up attacks, no expenditure of even more lives. Katherine believes it is because they want us to reconsider, for those who lost something in the attack to pressure Rob and Katherine to stop. Representative Oria calls, speaks a little with Katherine, then leaves, promising help and security. For a price.

When the news explodes across the city, things truly heat up on the political front. I end up porting Katherine back to her office, where her staff are already hard at work. Harried staffers shift video calls around, doing their best to appease those on the line. The calls are varied in tone and message. Peter watches over the entire dance, making note of each missive.

Some are the usual messages of condolences. Those are noted and marked into the friendly column.

Others are condolences with threats. Those Peter sends to a few well-fortified and cold staffers who handle them with simple efficiency.

Offers of help for a price are sorted to another group, the harried staffers making quick notes and adding to the growing column of potential resources we can draw upon.

The buzz builds and builds, and I watch silently from my corner as the ambassador is swamped, doing her best to stay ahead of the questions. She handles those few groups willing to offer help without price first, and after that, the ones offering help at a price. Because we need them.

I watch in silence, pain and loss turning slowly to rage.

At myself for putting my friends, and others, in a position where they could be attacked. It�s unfair to them and to myself. But feelings are not fair.

And my anger is not just internal. It soon turns toward the corporations and sects who felt the need to push things to this extent. At our allies who are willing to stand aside, allowing us to get hammered while they pick up the benefits. And at the vultures, the many, many vultures, who just want a piece of the fallout.

Anger wraps me in a comforting blanket, allowing me to stew in its comforting burn rather than feel the grief that threatens to eat me alive. But anger without action is the senseless bragging of a fallen monkey god. In time, I push from the wall, turning to leave.

Katherine doesn�t see, but Hondo, who has been standing by, does. He follows me out of the room and through the Portal home. Mikito�s sitting on a couch in our living room, legs crossed, clad in full battle armor. She looks up when I come through, her eyes flat, cold, and deadly as the arctic winds.

�Are we going?� Mikito asks.

�You knew?� Knew what I was going to do. Knew my reaction.

�Of course.�

�What exactly are you planning?� Hondo says.

�I�m taking the Wolves up on their challenge. And then after that, I�m going to take the bounties on their heads and use it to find who, exactly, assigned the hits. Then I�m going to see how they like having assassins sent after them,� I say heatedly.

�This is a bad idea.�

�You don�t have to come,� I say to Hondo while turning to look at Mikito. �Suggestions?�

Rather than answer me directly, Mikito sends over a map. It�s a location well outside the rings of Irvina, in the middle of nowhere. A location outside of the jurisdiction of anyone who could stop this fight. Or who would want to. Rolling hills. Forests.

In other words, perfect.

�It�ll do.�

Mikito hops up, swinging her naginata onto her shoulder. Harry comes running out of his room, a trio of floating camera droids joining him. I raise an eyebrow and he puts his hands together as if begging. But there is no humor in his eyes, no matter his actions.

�Make the call.�

Harry�s face twitches, but he nods, his eyes glazing over. Ali does the same, lips compressed as he gets things ready. Hondo lets out a loud huff, but he doesn�t gainsay our actions. Perhaps he�s tired of waiting too.

No more second-guessing. No more questions. Time.

I open the Portal and we step through. Time to end this.

Rolling hills. A forest to the right of us. A lake and the river that feeds and leads from it to the left. Behind and ahead of us, more gentle, charming land. The city ahead of us in the distance�the far distance.

This is technically public land. Land yet to be fully claimed but thinned out of monsters regularly. There�s nothing here above Level 20. And nothing comes near us, not with my Aura unfurled, its pressure beating upon unseen wings.

�Think they�ll come?� Ali says, spinning slowly.

�Yes,� Harry says. �Especially since you haven�t set up any traps.�

I shrug. A neutral fighting ground is the best we can hope for. If we keep waiting for them to attack us, they�ll find a time and place that works for them.

�We could have called the authorities,� Harry says suggestively.

�Then they wouldn�t show up,� I say, shaking my head. �No. Leave it be.�

�Relax,� Mikito says, nodding toward the city. �Eat a little. What will be, will be.�

�Que sera sera?� Harry snorts.

Hondo looks at us flatly, disdaining to show confusion. But if the Weaponmaster is worried, he does not deign to show it to us lesser mortals.

�Wish they�d let us Level up though,� Ali says, looking at Mikito and Hondo.

Both are so close, sitting at Level 49. There�s a lot of ground to cover in a single Level at this stage, but we�re so damn close. But that�s the other reason we need to act now. Otherwise they will. There�s no way they�re going to let us Level in peace.

�No more innocent lives,� I say softly. �This ends. Today.�

And after that, there�s nothing more to say.

Chapter 17

Time creeps by slowly. I�m on my fourth chocolate bar and even Hondo has unwound enough to test out a bar when Ali stops his spinning abruptly. The orange-clad Spirit stares at a new notification screen and holds his awkward, legs akimbo, partially inverted position before he grins savagely.

�Got you!� Ali says.

I swallow my last mouthful as I tense. �They�re here?�

�Space Lock is in place. I just lost all connection to the outside world,� Ali confirms. �The Uttu is probably on her way to a good position to snipe, if not there already.�

�Titan,� Mikito says, drawing our attention to what is in front of us.

A single figure saunters forward, metallic bands that act as knuckle dusters gleaming in the sunlight. I twist and turn my head, searching visually for the Machine Lord but finding nothing. Rather disturbing how I can see the Titan but I get nothing on my minimap. From his mini-bunker on a nearby hill, Harry waves and gives us a thumbs-up before he shuts the door, hiding from the ensuing battle.

�A bit brave, no?� I say.

�He is a brawler,� Hondo says, cracking his neck. �Mine or yours.�

�Hey!� Mikito protests.

�You�re on sniper duty,� I say.

�Not me?� Ali says, playing hurt.

�Fill in when you can, but I want you near me. We might need to do a fastball special if the Machine Lord goes swarm.�

�Not his style,� Hondo contradicts me.

�Exactly.� I shrug, loosening up my shoulders before I jerk my head toward the Titan. �Yours.�

�Guess I�ve got the Space Lord,� Ali says, frowning slightly.

I understand his hesitation. This is insane. We�re out-numbered, out-Classed, and I�m sure they�ve only come because they think they can win. The only uncertainty is the same one any fighter faces during a battle�a bad roll of the dice, a lousy call. There are few guaranteed wins in fights, even in a System-adjusted world. Just chaos and blood. For now, all we can do is roll with the punches.

Something pings on my minimap as my Greater Detection picks up new figures. I frown, curious how they only now made an appearance. The inquiry sent to Ali gets a quick answer.

�Whoever was hiding them has dropped the upkeep. Looks like they were a little slow. Or might be on a cycled timer.�

I grunt, using a small exertion of will to send the notifications to the team. Four more figures, all Advanced Classers. Two with large Mana pools, with Classes that blend out and get replaced with Healer, Healer-Support, Ranger, and Whipmaster. That last one involves a buxom flame-haired lady clad in the usual Adventurer one-piece armored skinsuit. Of concern is the fact that all these newcomers are Advanced Classers in their high 30s. By themselves, they would be of little concern. But with the rest of the Wolves in play, this team could lock down one of us.

�Uttu or newcomers?� Mikito says, her tone chilly.

I grimace, considering our options. Blink Step should, theoretically, allow me to get to the Uttu first. But that�s only if they don�t throw up a Dimension Lock. And past experience tells me that they will. All that means is we have to make our way to her position manually when she takes her first shot.

�Focus on those here first. Healers, then ranged. We�ll stall,� Hondo pipes up, flexing his hand.

I consider his suggestion then nod. We�ll have to play the Uttu by ear.

We finish layering our buffs, adding whatever bonuses we can to each other and ourselves. Eye of the Storm is already active, giving everyone a little higher regeneration while I layer on Soul Shield. I�m tempted to add Harden, but the cost is too high. Until the fight actually begins, I don�t dare use that Skill.

By this point, the Titan and his backups are a few hundred meters away. Distant, but with all our attributes, more than close enough.

�You finally came.� Surprisingly, the Titan has a high, squeaky voice. His accent reminds me of a blond, cheerleading Valley girl. Entirely at odds with his big, rippling muscles. Though he does have the long blond hair framing his three eyes. Each of those eyes is a different color. Purple, red, and green with the barest hint of yellow on the edges. Handsome, if you�re into that. �Tired of hiding?�

�Figured you�d hit us at home sooner or later. Once you figured out how to breach the new defenses at our home.� I don�t raise my voice like him, but increased Perception means we all can hear each other perfectly fine.

Hurquji grins. �We would never think about attacking Tig�s guild residences.�

�Uh huh.� I don�t believe him, but I can see why he�d say that. �You know, you could just walk away. Earth might decide to kill the program, whatever I decide.�

�Contract hasn�t been canceled.�

�Good.� My heart speeds up at those words, pumping more blood into my body. I unconsciously lean forward on the balls of my feet, bending at the waist as I ready myself. Anger, leashed till now, bubbles forward, filling my veins. The losses from before, the hurt over the injustice of this world wraps around me, armoring me in its hate as much as my Soul Shield does.

Dimension Locked!

Note that reality has been stabilized in the immediate area. You may not enter another dimension or pass through space while this status is in effect.

Note: Dimension Lock may be breached using a Master Level (4) Skill

As if that were the signal, the battle begins. An overpowered beam attack strikes against the layered defensive shields we�ve placed around us. It shatters the first, second, and third shields before splashing against Mikito�s body. My Soul Shield absorbs the remainder damage, leaving the Ghost Armor-clad Samurai untouched.

Mikito and Hondo take off, blurring as they run and leave me behind. I haven�t triggered Haste, preferring to keep my Mana for now. Hondo pulls ahead of her as his damn passive speedster ability is kicked in full bore, covering the hundreds of meters in seconds. Spikes of obsidian stone erupt from the earth, forcing them to duck and weave through the new impediments while I jog behind, calling upon my own Skills.

A formation appears above the group, gold and silver glyphs forming as a column of power slams down. One of the Healer-cum-support players throws up their tentacles, forming a dome of power that stops my Beacon. It�s a powerful defense, but I see her Mana bar shrink as she defends the team, even while the dome cracks under the onslaught. As I raise my hand to throw another Beacon, the world lurches and all noise cuts off.

I blink, thinking that my eyes are playing tricks on me, but they�re not. There�s suddenly a pane of glass between the world and me, and as I watch, that pane grows denser and denser, the other side fading in clarity. A hand pressed against the glass finds it unyielding.

�What the hell?�

Nothing.

I slam my fist into the wall, achieving only aching knuckles. My sword does little better, bouncing off my prison. There�s not even a scratch on the glass-like substance before me. I stretch out my Mana Sensing ability and see the way Mana interacts with the wall, converting itself into whatever the �wall� is. Without me noticing it happening, I realize I�m in darkness now, no longer even vaguely connected to the world. Only the automatically turned on lights of my helmet provide illumination.

�So. This is what the Spatial Prison is like,� I say to myself.

That explains why hitting the wall made no difference. Why would hitting �space� injure it? Admittedly, with my Mana Sense, I could tell that the Mana Blade portion of my attacks were doing a little damage, but it was so low that it doesn�t show up under anything but my extended senses. If I had to rely on my blade or Mana Darts to escape, this could take a very long time.

Good thing I planned for this with my shopping trip weeks ago. A slight focus and I pull my Quantum State Manipulator from my bag. I grin, slapping the QSM on my wrist then activating it.

Getting the exact details of her Spatial Prison Skill cost me a pretty penny. The Space Lord doesn�t actually trap someone in a different dimension, but instead displaces a specific portion of space into that dimension. Attacking a Spatial Prison like the Space Lord�s is actually dangerous, as the walls are the only barrier between you and the other dimension. Breach the Prison and you suffer the consequences of an explosive and violent introduction to the dimension you�re trapped within. If you�re lucky, you then receive an abrupt and painful return to your own dimension as you are ejected backward. If you�re unlucky, you�re stuck. It�s a nasty, nasty Skill. It�s biggest weakness? It�s a channeled spell that costs a significant amount of Mana.

Knowing what she could do, I had the QSM adjusted to locate the very thin line that connects the space I�m in to my original dimension. Once the QSM locks on to our home dimension, it�s a simple matter for it to shift my body. In theory.

The QSM chimes, pinging me that everything is clear and ready. I draw a deep breath, hoping that the work done on the equipment was done right. I had no way to test it beforehand. Even if I�ve paid for the best I could afford, if the Space Lord knew about my intentions and took steps�

I step forward, passing through the previously immovable barrier, and find myself back on Prax, in nearly the same spot I left. In my brief absence, the terrain has changed significantly, as has the status of the battle. All around me, once-pristine grassland and rolling hills are blasted and torn, the smell of freshly churned earth and charcoal grass breaching my helmet�s filters. The clash of battle resounds through the dimension, and I quickly take in the changes.

Off in the distance, Ali is tangling with the Space Lord. Her abilities have pulled him into this dimension, but the Spirit doesn�t seem to care, weaving between shards of spatial distortions. His fists are charged up with power, lightning and Mana arcing around them as he occasionally thrusts a hand forward, unleashing his attacks. Only a thin layer of a spatial disturbance seems to stop the attacks from impacting the woman, but each second, her Mana drops. Truth be told, Ali is out-classed, and if she wasn�t keeping up the Spatial Prison, she�d probably have wiped the floor with the Spirit already.

Hondo has his hands full dealing with the Titan and the Machine Lord. The Machine Lord is clad in what I can only call a full-on mechanized and armored suit. It�s not a mecha, because the thing is only nine feet tall all in, but it�s not just armor slapped on the body either. I can see servos hidden behind segmented armor plates, corded steel muscles propelling the Machine Lord forward as a plasma glaive comes crashing down on Hondo. The Weaponmaster blocks it with a sword, discarding the already melting weapon into the face of the charging Titan even as he makes a chain appear, catching the Titan�s punch and wrapping around the extended arm. Hondo slides beneath the Machine Lord�s legs, dragging the Titan toward his friend and wrapping the chain around the Lord�s legs. He then releases the chain, letting it constrict the Lord and Titan together. While the pair struggle to free themselves, Hondo conjures a large knife and stabs it into the Titan�s free arm.

Before Hondo can follow up, the Machine Lord�s gunship�which has been hovering ahead�manages to shift position sufficiently to bring its beam cannons to bear and blasts Hondo away. Even as Hondo flies through the air, the Weaponmaster is activating his ultimate kill Skill, gold and silver circles forming as the arsenal appears.

I turn away, checking on Mikito. The Samurai is glowing, a golden sheen covering her ghostly blue armor. The Samurai�s form blurs as she fights the entire Advanced Class team. As I watch, an overcharged beam cannon shot impacts Mikito�s golden form but breaks apart with no effect.

Damn. Mikito has triggered her penultimate defensive and offensive Skill�Chugi. It�s similar to my Sanctum, blocking all incoming damage, but it has an extremely high on-going cost. Unlike my purely defensive Skill, Chugi covers only Mikito and allows her to move and fight while boosting her basic attributes at the same time. There�s a cost to this Skill, over and above the Mana cost. Mikito must have been pressed to the extreme to use her Skill so soon.

But�

Grinning, I trigger Beacon of the Angels over Mikito�s location. Even before it finishes, I begin a second activation of the Skill.

�Mikito. Incoming,� I send over the party chat. Wouldn�t want her to drop her Skill at the wrong time.

Light then fire. The Beacon of the Angels smites the group crowded around the Samurai like the hammer of the System that it is. Of course, as the group splits and moves, I don�t catch everyone with the first Beacon. It doesn�t matter, as I layer the attacks over the area.

Armor melts, force shields shatter, skin and muscle burn. Screams resound through the hills, informing everyone that I�m back. My grin widens as I take off running. Through Ali�s eyes, I sense the way the Space Lord snaps her head toward me, surprise etched on her face. She pays for her distraction, Ali blasting her full-on with one of his lightning bolts. As the attack lands, her body arcs in pain as muscles clench tight. Leaving the Spirit to slow down the Space Lord, I use Haste and Thousand Steps to carry me closer to the fight. The sudden burst in speed makes the Uttu�s next shot miss me.

By the time I reach Mikito, she�s put down one Healer while the Healer-Support falls back, hands up as she tries to clear the fight. A glance shows she�s at zero Mana, and that�s probably the only reason any one of us is letting her leave. Even if she manages to get a Mana potion down her chest, zeroing out your Mana is a good way to get a Mana Withdrawal condition, wiping out any possibility of spells. On the other hand, she�s done well considering she�s sucked up two of my Beacons of the Angels.

That, of course, leaves Uttu, the Whipmaster, and Ranger. The peak-capped Ranger looks the least scorched, having been on the edge of my attacks. As I watch, the repeating-crossbow-wielding, jackal-headed Ranger�s health pool is recovering at a visible rate.

As for the Whipmaster, her whip spins toward me. My attempt at a dodge fails because the semi-sentient weapon shifts trajectory in mid-air to wrap around my leg. I find my feet pulled out from under me, slamming me into the ground and eliciting a grunt. Vines, dripping with poison and acid, crawl up from the whip, layering over my Soul Shield and chewing through the defense.

Fingers dance across my torso as I pull and throw my knives. The weapons dart through the air, only for the first two to be blocked by a hexagonal shield of force. But the first two were a distraction for the third, which cuts the whip apart, sending the vine around my leg thrashing. I rip the freed whip-vine from my body before doing a rolling recovery. As I stand, I watch with horror as the vine end and whip remnants twitch and crawl, reforming themselves.

�Ewwww,� I exclaim.

�Above!� Ali sends.

The warning is a touch too late. Rockets throw me sideways, tearing the vines and my shield apart in flame and concussive blasts. Beam weapons slam into me, heating up armor and burning flesh. I snarl, rolling aside and throwing up a hand to call forth a Mud Wall. It blocks the attack as I move, but the wall won�t last long. Nor will the gunship hold its position. Mikito, now free of the slain Ranger, throws herself at the Whipmaster, leaving me time to deal with the gunship.

Sideways, blade coming into my hand, I turn, throwing a Blade Strike at the floating gunship and bouncing across the ground and into the air with my hoverboots, screwing with the AIs targeting algorithm. Blades of force shatter against the ship�s force shield, ripping through the fast-regenerating defense. I can tell it�s weakening, that the shield will go down. If I�m given enough time.

�GOBLIN�S AAARRRRSSSSEEEE!�

A scream. A searing flash of pain through our mental connection. Then Ali is gone. Banished. One of the real dangers of fighting a Space Lord. Their abilities deal with dimensions, and those not inherent to this reality are particularly susceptible to banishment.

�Damn it,� I snarl. But no time to waste.

I eye my Mana bar, noting that over this period, I�ve burnt through nearly half of my entire bar. I grit my teeth, plunging a Mana Regeneration potion into my body to kick up the speed. It�s a short-lived increase, but I get the feeling this fight will be pretty short. A mental command turns off my hoverboots, letting gravity drop me faster than ducking down myself would. Beams blaze over my head, and I toss my knives at the ship underhand, hoping to cut through the gunship�s walls.

Space warps, twisting like a heat mirage. My knives slide into the mirage and never come out. I can only hope the recall spells brings them back. A follow-up Blade Strike disappears just as cleanly, leaving our reality without a ripple. My feet hit the ground, flexing and taking in the fall before I kick off, dodging rockets. I channel Mana once more, triggering my Blink Step Skill, and watch as my Mana and will battle against Evanline�s Dimensional Lock. The Skill falters, but not without result�the Space Lord�s Dimensional Lock disappears too. Specialized Master Mage or not, her Mana reserves have a limit. I reach out again through the dimensions and find the edge of her Skill, find where it interacts with my Mana and soul, where it works with and against the System, and I push, feeling Mana flee my body.

An ear-shaking boom erupts, reminding me of the other fight. Hondo has taken a full-on blow, shattering armor and his chest as he flies backward and through the curve of a hill. Hondo keeps going until he pancakes upon hitting the next hill, coughing out blood. Even as Hondo squirms out of the hole, railgun pellets slam into his body, tearing off a leg. The Weaponmaster throws up a hand and casts Mana Shield, forming a temporary wall of protection. The Skill is a life-saver but trades Mana for shield integrity on a direct basis, and Hondo�s already low on the precious resource.

�Thousand Hells.�

I take the momentary gap when the Dimensional Lock isn�t active to Blink Step. I can�t reach Hondo himself, but there�s nothing stopping me from putting myself in the way of the pellets. I appear between Hondo and the Wolves and throw out a hand and a portable shield generator, watching the entire thing appear in mid-air and form its force shield. The pellets are stopped for the second, the Machine Lord�s shoulder-mounted railgun continuing its attacks and wearing down the defense. As I ready myself, the Space Lord recasts the Dimension Lock, forcing me to stay where I am. As the Titan jumps, landing a short distance from me, I realize I�m now facing all three Master Classers.

It�s not all going their way though. As I throw up another Soul Shield, the howling fire from the gunship dies. Ignored for a short time, Mikito managed to climb on top of the gunship. The Samurai is no longer glowing and has only a small thread of Mana left, but she�s still in play. With Hitoshi in hand, Mikito doesn�t need much Mana to do damage. Her polearm cuts right through the armor, hits a stabilizer, and sends the gunship spinning through the air. Defying all logic, Mikito manages to straddle the spiraling, falling gunship as she continues her attack.

I turn back to my opponents, my lips curling upward as blades form around me, a precursor to my final attack. The sword in my hand swings down, followed by dozens of conjured blades. Army of One cuts through the air, light hurting my eyes as the Skill homes in on the Machine Lord. Powerful as his machines might be, they aren�t up to taking my Skill head-on. My lips pull apart in a savage grin�then fall as the Titan interposes himself between the Skill and the Machine Lord.

Blood flies, dirt kicks into the air, and the world shakes. I don�t stop moving after using my Skill, narrowly dodging the first of the spatial shards Evanline throws at me. I don�t manage to dodge them all though. A particularly hard-to-see shard catches me high on the body and tears away my Soul Shield. I scream as my muscles, tendons, and molecules are rearranged by the Skill. Just a little, but enough that the pain from the wounds makes me stumble and fall.

As I stagger upward and the dust settles from my attack, a cold dread grips my stomach. The Titan strolls out of the damaged earth, wounded flesh closing before my eyes. There�s a wide grin on Hurquji�s face, his eyes darting between Hondo and me. Behind the Titan, the Machine Lord walks out, the myriad weapons on his armor pointing at me.

I�m down to less than a quarter of my Mana, my Soul Shield gone. I have the contingency shield from my ring and some Mana left, but that�s it. Even as I desperately refill from the Mana Battery, I know it�s not enough. Not by far. Not against three Master Classes.

�Pitiful,� Hurquji says. �Did you think you, a single Master Classer, could beat us? You should have kept hiding. Run. Get your last Levels.�

�You weren�t going to let us,� I say, forcing myself to my feet. Two-thirds of my life left. Less than a quarter of my Mana. I could go for a Mana potion, but I doubt they�d let me. Three Master Classers, most at nearly full health with Mana ranging from close-to-empty to two-thirds. And the Uttu, somewhere close, ready to fire again.

�Will you stand down or continue this senseless struggle?� S�Baxu�s voice is loud, though his words are punctuated by the secondary explosion of his gunship in the distance.

I wince, seeing Mikito�s health take another dive. S�Baxu looks in her direction and a portion of his armor detaches, the rocket launcher and beam pistol drone flying off in her direction.

�Senseless,� I say, closing my eyes. Exhaustion slides over me as I taste the word. �Maybe it is senseless. Hondo?�

�I will not give up,� Hondo grates out.

I sense his presence and turn. The Weaponmaster slowly makes his way over to me, using a new halberd as a support for his missing leg. A quick perusal reveals the hastily applied plastiskin bandage that has molded itself to the remnant limb, stemming his bleeding.

�Better to die than fail again,� he says.

�Well, that�s his answer.� I push against the weariness that grips my soul and body. It refuses to yield, so I let my anger burn it away. My lips twist into a half smile, one that they can�t see behind my helmet. �You guys don�t want to pull back, do you?�

Laughter from S�Baxu. Evanline and Hurquji do not laugh, their eyes narrowing as they realize I�m less afraid than I should be. Tired perhaps, but not afraid.

�You have a trick.� Evanline�s voice cuts through the air, reaching all of us as if she�s standing right next to us. Neat trick.

�Always,� I say. �Last chance.�

�He�s bluffing,� S�Baxu says.

�Do your worse,� Hurquji replies, smirking.

The Titan kicks off, speeding toward us even as S�Baxu opens fire, beam weapons and rail pellets tearing up the earth and lighting the sky in flashes of white and purple. I twist and jump, my Elemental Affinity tingling as space twists and warps. The Space Lord�s hidden attack misses by millimeters.

We can�t win this. Not with Hondo out of Mana. Not with Mikito injured.

No way to win.

Not alone.

Chapter 18

Chaos. All fights are chaos. Even more so when one side is attempting to make it even more chaotic. I gesture with one hand, opening up my Altered Storage. From it, hundreds of tiny drones emerge. They spin through the air, zooming directly toward the Space Lord. As they fly, they explode with a million watts of lights in all the colors of the rainbow, miniature suns in daylight.

Hondo shifts sideways, darting farther away from me as best he can on one foot, a beam pistol firing from his hip at the Machine Lord. Huquji kicks off, charging us as S�Baxu keeps ups his attacks, the beam pistol doing little to his armor while his own beam weapons and rail cannons churn the earth and burn the air. S�Baxu targets both of us at the same time, throwing firepower with indiscriminate care, like a Mardi Gras floater discarding beads in New Orleans. I twist and jump, my Elemental Affinity tingling as space twists and warps, a new Spatial Prison almost catching me. Perhaps the blinding lights slowed her down, or perhaps just luck. I trigger my Haste and Thousand Steps spell, speeding up to avoid being targeted again.

Hondo has discarded the beam pistol as he comes to a stop. In his hand is a belt-fed grenade launcher. The deep thump of the rocket-propelled grenades beats through the air, punctuated by the crack of rail pellets breaking the sound barrier. Many of the grenades are intercepted, their payload exploding too soon.

Chaotic energies swirl, some of it creating tantalizing, narcotic-laden smells. Other energies twist time and space in ways that hurt the brain to look at. A rent in reality opens, sucking up air and smoke grenades, then snaps shut a second later. From open air, a squirming whale-like creature is deposited on the ground, its form still crackling with the chaotic energy that brought it to our dimension. Sixty feet long, the blue creature flops, mouth opening and closing in a silent scream. Bullets and beams smash into it, its sudden appearance blocking the Machine Lord�s view for a second. The next moment, the blue-whale creature warps, twisting and shrinking as it is caught in the vortex of probability.

In the meantime, I�m throwing Blade Strikes as fast as I can at the Space Lord and flipping my returned throwing knives at the Titan. The enhanced Penetration effects, along with my Skill, are causing the Titan problems, as is the quick-cast Freezing Blade enchantment. The effect hurts the Titan, slowing its mad rush toward me. Strong and resistant to damage the Titan might be, but fast he is not. But I can�t afford to stay ahead of him much longer as my Mana bottoms out.

I don�t even see the next trap coming. The wall erupts in front of me, forcing me to smash into it. Reinforced via Mana, the spellborn Earthen Wall bounces me backward. Before I can focus and break it, Hurquji shatters my freezing spell and triggers a Charge ability, appearing by my side in a blink of an eye. I barely get my sword in the way before a fey-metal-banded fist slams into me, sending me through the Earthen wall. Only to be pancaked against an even harder Spatial Wall.

My sword is pressed into my body, cutting into my own flesh from the block. My helmet is shattered, my armor broken. Blood runs down my chest even as my vision fades at the edges. An alert flashes across my eye, a simple notification.

Critical Damage Dealt! Status Condition Overridden

You are Stunned! You will not be able to move, use Mana, or react in any way while Stunned.

I try to move, try to shift my body, and fail. I pull at my Mana and I can feel it, sense it, but a wall blocks my way. It�s a wall that I know instinctively is created by the System as it overrides my body control, overrides my ability to reach for my Mana. I grunt, straining as the Titan jumps, lands beside me, and shatters the earth beneath his feet. I�m pushed out of my hole and fall to the ground facedown. The first punch takes me from behind, pancaking my nose and breaking my teeth. The next blow cracks my skull, adding another debuff, and shatters cheekbones. Pain encompasses my existence as the debuff renews and Hurquji�s attacks override my resistances.

A meaty hand picks me up and turns me around. Blood dribbles down my face, coating my jumpsuit, the cracked helmet doing nothing to stop the flow of blood. Hurquji stares at me, no pity, no mercy, no regret in his eyes as a hand pulls back.

I have no access to Mana. No ability to move my body. Just my mind. And something else. Something not given by the System. In the corner of my pain-filled and shocked mind, I feel it. The connection between Hurquji and me. Between every single being, every single atom in the world. The forces that bind. And loosen.

Just a little prod, a push using something that was given by the System but is not part of it. Not enforced by it. It�s a power that is mine and Ali�s. I feel the System try to stop me, try to block it, but the power is not part of the System itself. Only categorized, only noted.

I push, and the large, meaty paw that flies toward me misses, flying past my body by inches. I�ve taken away the friction between myself and the Titan�s hand, making me so slippery that I shoot out of his grip like an oiled sardine. As I shoot downward, the Titan�s fingers clap shut in surprise. Along the ground I skip, my Elemental Affinity adjusting the friction between the ground and me as I land, sending me moving like a hockey puck on fresh ice. Soon enough, I come to a stop, because even reduced, friction is still in play.

The surprised Titan stalks over to me, my body still paralyzed by the System. �Interesting trick. But not good enough. You�re just delaying the inevitable.�

I grunt, some of my control over my body returning. A hand, a knee. I push myself upward, forcing my body to act, pitting will against the System and winning. A pitiful victory as my health flashes in the low hundreds, as shattered bones, bloody vision, and crushed organs decry.

�Delay.� I cough, watching as the Titan stops, staring at me. �About. Right.�

�Do you think there�s someone who is going to save you?�

�Behind. You.�

Hurquji pauses, eyes darting upward and sideways to look at his own minimap. They widen and he spins around, seeing what I see. Evanline is gone, a bubble of pink and orange where she was. No sound, no light escapes from the bubble. She�s gone, and with her, the Dimension Lock. On the other hand, what is happening to the Machine Lord is quite, quite visible, if not audible. S�Baqu is no longer fighting just Hondo but another five individuals, one of whom has a yellow stream of energy connecting him and S�Baqu�s armored suit. Even from here, I feel the way power shifts and drains from the suit.

�Hera�s scorn!� Hurquji says, eyes widening. The Titan hesitates then raises his hand, attempting to active his Skill. Only to pause and look back at me with wonderous surprise. �You�re blocking me?�

�Yes.� I�d smile, but it hurts too much to try. The damn Space Lord is not the only one who can lock down a location.

Once I answer, the Titan doesn�t hesitate, his fist flashing forward. I finally activate the contingency Shielding ring, and it blocks the attack but sends me flying backward. The Titan isn�t expecting me to survive and delays moving for a fraction of a second. A fraction too long. Too late.

By the time Hurquji reaches my prone form, he finds another figure before him. The last arrival to the party. The star of the show.

The Wendigo catches the Titan�s fist in his. Even his block is sufficient to bend and warp the fey-steel knuckle dusters.

�I�ve been looking for you,� the Wendigo rumbles, his voice low and bestial. There�s a hunger in the voice, a bloodlust I recognize all too well.

�About time,� I mutter. Not that anyone�s paying attention to me.

The Wendigo and Titan explode into action. The sheer concussive blasts of their fight strip my contingency shield from my body and then, even more of my precious health. I tumble across the ground as the backlash of their battle kicks my body around. I�m saved only by the fact that the pair move their fight away from me, probably unintentionally. As I lie in a pit of churned and broken earth, my body too broken and shattered to move, a figure appears.

�Here. Dri� never mind. I�ll get the injector,� Harry says.

The reporter drops to his knees and stabs me with a health potion It�s a lesser health potion, offering only a few tens of health points, but it�s the best we can do. Too much more and I�ll suffer from the effects of overuse. Instead, Harry channels a healing spell into my body.

I stare at the man for a second, taking in the double, triplicate forms of him that fade in and out. I want to ask about the fights, about how many more we can expect. About the Uttu. And Mikito. But the part of me that knows this fight is over, that my part is done, pulls the darkness in the corners of my vision close. It wraps me up in comforting numbness and dismisses that harsh mistress consciousness.

The System is so messed up. In twenty minutes, I wake up again, my body healed, teeth regrown, bones replaced. There�s lingering pain, but it�s all in my mind. I know, soon enough, that even that will go. The resistances, the System-given abilities, will wipe them away. Making me� functional. A series of notifications from the fight wait in the corner of my vision. My share of the experience for the damage I caused, the deaths here. But I can find no motivation to read them. Not yet at least.

�The fight?� I say as I change out of my torn and blasted clothing.

�Done,� Ali says, floating beside me.

I smile slightly, grateful to see the little bastard. Pulling him back earlier outside the edge of her Dimensional Lock meant he could help the others bypass the Space Mage�s Skill. �Harry?�

�Getting last-minute interviews.�

�Cutting it a little close, weren�t you?� I say, sliding on the new skinsuit and hoping that my expensive set fixes itself as advertised. I�m not entirely sure it can, not with the sheer amount of damage it took. Then again, look at me. Fit as a fiddle.

�Wendigo took a bit to get here. Seems like he wasn�t watching,� Ali says. �Anyway, you guys took too long to take her Mana down.�

�Yeah,� I say, shaking my head. One of the keys to the fight had been breaking the Space Lord�s Off to the Side Skill without her knowing. That, or making her drop it voluntarily. To do that, we needed to reduce her Mana to a point where she would no longer dedicate Mana to reinforcing it, allowing Ali to breach it when I pulled him back into this world. �Things didn�t go exactly as planned.�

�When have they ever?� Mikito says, walking over to me with her naginata over her shoulder. She looks calmly around the burnt and blasted wasteland that was our battleground before her gaze fixes on a particular spot. �You nearly died there.�

�You too.�

Mikito shrugs. �Did you know? That they�d all be watching for Harry�s next segment?�

�Know? No. We tried to contact them, leave them hints. But there was no way to really know,� I say. �If they�d watch. If they�d come.�

�You gambled.�

My lips twitch. �Revenge is a very universal desire.�

Mikito stands in silence for a time before she meets my gaze with her brown eyes. She stares at me, searching for something for long seconds. Eventually, she turns away and walks off.

�Mikito?� I call hesitantly.

�You lead. I follow.� When she turns around, her gaze lands on me with a weight that takes my breath away. �That�s our deal. Win or lose.�

I want to protest that we never discussed that, never agreed. I didn�t ask her to come. I didn�t ask her to join me. But that�s a lie. I assumed she would be here. I took her help without question. I could have left her out of this or trusted her with more details. But I didn�t. Not because I didn�t trust her, but because in the System, anything said out loud, any information passed on to others is purchasable. I already risked a lot by checking that Harry would broadcast our fight live. Even more when I had Ali ping the previous targets of the Wolves via an intermediary, telling them to watch.

If the Wolves had learned about the trap beforehand, it would have all been for naught. If I had coordinated directly with the victims, I likely would have failed. In truth, if it were not for how passionate Hondo was about dealing with the Wolves, I would never have taken the risk. Yet I could think of no other way to win. And we needed to win.

Because this was just the start.

Hours later, we�re back with Katherine. The ambassador looks relieved to see us, tension held in her shoulders disappearing. I offer her a half-smile, slumping into one of the proffered chairs while Hondo looks at Mikito and me.

�Thank you,� Hondo says.

�Pardon?� I say, sitting up.

Rather than answer, Hondo walks out of the door�heading to see Oria, I�d guess. I stare at the Weaponmaster�s back, scratching my head absently, amused to note that he�s already got his leg back. Mikito has a wry smile while watching Hondo leave before she turns back toward Katherine and Peter.

�How are things?� I say, the wash of happiness from beating the Wolves now shifting back toward grief as I recall what happened on Earth.

�Stabilizing,� Katherine says. �Rob has decided to continue with the program. We have numerous law enforcement personnel scattering planetwide to look for the attackers. A bounty tax has also been instituted planetwide, and that tax is being used to fund quests to deal with the attackers. These quests have also been passed on to any guild willing to take them.

�Rob is looking at what additional tariffs and other penalties we can levy on those we find connected to the attacks. In the meantime, the Galactic immigrants will be concentrated in a few locations that have volunteered to take them. The Duchess�s location is one of the prime areas.�

I nod, accepting Katherine�s words. We might be stabilizing for now, but if the attacks continue, there�s no guarantee that Rob will be able to hold the planet together. And while he might not be up for reelection for a few years, ignoring the wants and needs of the settlement owners would be an extremely bad idea.

�Security?� Mikito says, picking up on the unanswered question.

Peter grimaces, but he finally speaks up. �We�re looking into a planetary-wide security net and dimensional blocker. And a temporary mercenary corp. The Erethrans have offered to send a fleet of theirs to aid us. For concessions.�

�What concessions?� I ask.

�They want New Zealand,� Peter says.

�Pardon?�

�The country. They want it all.�

Silence descends as I struggle with that idea. I open my mouth, then shut it, then open my mouth again before giving up.

Ali snorts, filling the silence. �Eh, good deal for you guys. Not as if many of their population survived.�

�No?� I say. Come to think of it, I never did visit New Zealand.

�Remote island. Lots of monsters. Including a dragon that you all decided to call Smaug for some reason. That lost you a whole city when he found out,� Ali says with a sniff. �Really.�

�So what? We just take the entire country and give it to the Erethrans?� I frown. That doesn�t sound right.

For one thing, I�m not sure it�s our land to give. Then again, there are monsters there, and without a high enough population keeping them in check, those monsters will keep getting stronger and stronger. Already the Caribbean is a no-go zone. Between the sheer number of monsters, their strength, and the elementals who have taken residence among the hurricanes, it�s a treacherous land. If we leave New Zealand alone too long, it�ll just be another lost island.

Still, it sits badly with me.

�In essence, yes. Rob is speaking with their representatives now. The Erethrans have promised to arrive the moment the agreement is made,� Katherine says, her eyes tight. She meets my gaze and I can see that we share some of the same feelings. But on the other side of the equation is the simple need for security.

Compromise. Politics is all about compromise. Once again, I�m grateful that I�m not forced to take part in it. Perhaps it�s cowardice on my part, but finding that compromise, choosing the least of all evils�

�John?� Peter says, and I blink, looking at the man. �There�s something else we need from you.�

�Oh?�

�Yes. As you know, this isn�t over. Not by a long shot. A large number of those who attacked us on Earth have left the planet already,� Peter continues. �And while the guilds might get some of them, the ones who attacked Rob, who attacked Lana, are at least Advanced Classes.�

�I see�� I say slowly, leaning back. �You want me to go after them myself.�

�Yes. You�re out here in the Galaxy already. You�re also�� Peter waves toward my Status Screen above my head.

I get it. As one of Earth�s few Master Classers, I�m in an enviable position of being able to kick ass. Only leveling fanatics like Mikito are anywhere close to breaking the last Level barrier, and even she would have found it hard to do without the Arena. Out here, in Irvina, where the fights are broadcast over a large area, the potential experience increases from the watchers� tithe is significant.

Even so, for all the allusions that we have made, what Peter is asking me to do is to be Earth�s hitman. Their Galactic bounty hunter. It might leave me free to set my own hours, but Katherine at the least knows I�m not one to do things halfway. If I agree, my time researching quietly is gone.

If I don�t�

A memory of friends in a city by the water. Of a lonely mountain range where I woke up over five years ago. A lake and blue boxes that changed my world. Strewn corpses. Laughing faces. And I know, for certain, that more will be lost. If I refuse, I open Earth up to reprisals. Even if I agree, I leave them open. But at least they�ll know that anyone, anything going after Earth will face me at some point.

�Mikito?� I say softly, looking at the Japanese woman.

�You lead. I follow,� Mikito says simply.

I feel that burden sink further onto my shoulders, my chest tightening as she lays it on me. She sits there, weighing me, judging me by her very presence. Asking me to live up to that level of faith she has shown me.

I shut my eyes, the weight of the responsibility that I tried to set aside pressing down once again. Pushing against my forced indolence, past my reserve. It strikes at the core of who I am, who I had to become to survive. I�m back standing over a mass grave, a cooking pot. Lying on the ground as the rain washes over me. As I stand in a forest of crosses.

�Damn it.�

I open my eyes to Peter then Katherine, seeing the pity in their gazes. Pity but no mercy. Katherine knows exactly what she is asking of me, and still, she asks.

�Fine.�

I stand and walk away without a goodbye. I�m sure they�ll send me the information. Send me the details of those who need killing. And then. Well, then I guess I do what I do.

Chapter 19

A week later, we�re headed up the beanstalk again, leaving the city. A week. To train. To recuperate. To study and learn. To run the dungeons until Mikito could gain enough experience to Level up. At that thought, I turn my head and stare at my friend, taking in her new Class.

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden, Junior Arena Champion of Irvina (Upper Samurai Level 1) (M)

HP: 2311/2311*

MP: 1681/1681*

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo, Feudal Bond

Galactic Reputation: 16

Galactic Fame: 6,998

My lips press together as I feel once more that weight of expectation and responsibility she has laid on me. I shake my head even as I call forth the Skill.

Feudal Bond (Level 1)

The Samurai is nothing without her master. The master is nothing without loyal servants. The Feudal Bond is a metaphysical representation of this relationship. This Skill provides strength to the Samurai derived from her master. However, this Skill is only in effect so long as the feudal status is in effect between the involved parties. Mana Regeneration reduced by 5 permanently.

Effect: User gains 5% of target master�s attributes.

I sigh, shaking my head. I feel a bit of dread over exploring exactly what this new Skill means and what messed up view of samurai the System has. An alien entity, borrowing on public consciousness and viewpoint, creating an exclusive prestige Class. How could that go wrong?

�John?� Mikito says, alerting me to the fact that I�ve been staring at her.

I flush, shaking my head, and turn aside. That�s a can of worms I�ll deal with another time. For now, it�s good enough to know that Mikito will be a much, much more powerful aide.

We�re going to need it.

For a moment, I glance at my own Status. The fight had not produced much in terms of loot as the other attackers had taken everything. But the experience gain from fighting and defeating three Master Classers, even shared, was significant. Enough so that I�ve gone up another Level and a bit, putting me at Level 28 and giving me another Skill point. I�m holding off on using it as I consider my best options. Aspects of that battle made me deeply unhappy, so I want to think about more deeply about that point before I commit.

We�ve spent a week training, healing, and waiting. Waiting for Harry to get back. To get the right ship. A week, and now we�re off. As we stand on the platform, heading up the beanstalk, the three of us stare at the disappearing city, its massive size soon lost in the clouds. No more Galactic center, no more quiet reading. I have books downloaded, along with a better idea of what to study by myself. Information has been saved, some questions answered. New ones formed. But the world we are in has little time or space for a scholarly Paladin. Not yet.

I�ll be back. There is more to learn, more to understand.

For now, there are rights to wrong. Killers who have run. People in power who think they are untouchable. Groups that think because they�re so big, they cannot fall.

For now, it�s time to get back to work. I look up, watching as we breach the cloud cover, and spot the station that looms above and the stars behind it. The numerous ships that wait, one of which is ready to take us away.

To the people waiting to be killed.

For now, it�s time to go.

###

The End

John and friends will return in

Rebel Star

(Book 8 of the System Apocalypse)

Author�s Note

Stars Awoken is the first book in the new Galactic arc. This book was a bit of a struggle to write as my patrons know, mostly because I kept vacillating on how I was going to write this. In the end, I ended up deleting over forty five thousand words and rewriting entire arcs before I was happy with this book. Some of that material will end up in book eight, Rebel Star, which might make the third arc four books long instead of three. This is also the penultimate arc, one that will contextualize and explore Galactic space more before we approach the end game.

As always, I�m grateful for everyone who has followed me on this long, long journey. I hope you have enjoyed John�s journey and the ever-expanding world. If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating.

In addition, I have other series including my A Thousand Li (my cultivation xanxia series), the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional LitRPG fantasy) and the Hidden Wishes (an urban fantasy GameLit series). Book one of each series follow:

A Thousand Li: The First Step (Book 1 of the A Thousand Li series)A Thousand Li: The First Step (Book 1 of the A Thousand Li series)(https://www.amazon.com/Thousand-Li-First-Cultivation-Novel-ebook/dp/B07PKGSDDQ)

A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)A Healer�s Gift (Book 1 of the Adventures on Brad)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071KD1X35)

A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)A Gamer�s Wish (Book 1 of the Hidden Wishes series)(https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BV7PY1G)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

GameLit SocietyGameLit Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

LitRPG BooksLitRPG Books(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books/)

About the Author

For updates on the series and my other books (and special one-shot stories), please visit my website: http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

Or sign up for my mailing list: http://eepurl.com/c35JS1http://eepurl.com/c35JS1(http://eepurl.com/c35JS1)

Or my Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/(https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/)

Or support me on Patreon direct at: https://www.patreon.com/taowonghttps://www.patreon.com/taowong(https://www.patreon.com/taowong)

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

Mana Imbue

Two are One

Thousand Steps

Blade Strike

The Body�s

Resolve

Greater

Detection

Altered Space

A Thousand

Blades

Shield Transference

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Army of One

Sanctum

Body Swap

Portal

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 3)

Blade Strike (Level 3)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 30 feet away.

Cost: 30 Stamina + 30 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

The Honor Guard now has access to an extra-dimensional storage location of 30 cubic meters. Items stored must be touched to be willed in and may not include living creatures or items currently affected by auras that are not the Honor Guard�s. Mana regeneration reduced by 10 Mana per minute permanently.

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

A Thousand Blades (Level 3)

Soul Shield (Level 2)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,000 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 10,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Army of One (Level 2)

Cost: 750 Mana

Sanctum (Level 2)

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eye of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Eye of the Storm

Society�s Web

Judgment of All

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force

Domain

Shackles of Eternity

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Class Skill: Penetration (Level 3)

Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 10 permanently.

Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive spells by 60%. Increases damage done to shields by 120%.

Class Skill: Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

Note: Aura may be activated or left-off at will.

Beacon of the Angels (Level 2)

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the maximum 25 meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

Eyes of Insight (Level 1)

Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.

Eye of the Storm (Level 1)

Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second

Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 2)

Effect: +45 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 55% and recovery rates by 35%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute and speed boosting Skills or spells.

Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second

Society�s Web (Level 1)

Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.

Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute

Other Class Skills

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1 - Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Shrunken Footsteps (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Sabre

Analyze (Level 2)

Harden (Level 2)

Effect: Reduces penetrative effects of attacks by 30% on targeted defense.

Cost: 3 Mana per second

Quantum Lock (Level 3)

Requirements: 200 Willpower, 200 Intelligence

Area of Effect: 100 meter radius around user

Cost: 250 + 50 Mana per Minute

Elastic Skin (Level 3)

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Effect: Heals 40 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Effect: Creates four missiles out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 30 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 35 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity

Greater Regeneration (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Firestorm

Effect: Create a firestorm with a radius of 5 meters. Deals 250 points of fire damage to those caught within. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing (II)

Effect: Heals 100 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 75 Mana

Mana Drip (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 200 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 150 Mana

Mud Walls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Create Water

Pulls water from the elemental plane of water. Water is pure and the highest form of water available. Conjures 1 liter of water. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 50 Mana

Scry

Cost: 25 Mana per minute.

Scrying Ward

Blocks scrying spells and their equivalent within 5 meters of caster. Higher level spells may not be blocked, but caster may be alerted about scrying attempts. Cooldown: 10 minutes

Cost: 50 Mana per minute

Improved Invisibility

Hides target�s System information, aura, scent, and visual appearance. Effectiveness of spell is dependent upon Intelligence of caster and any Skills or Spells in conflict with the target.

Cost: 100 + 50 Mana per minute

Improved Mana Cage

Cost: 200 Mana + 75 Mana per minute

Improved Flight

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute

Equipment

Silversmith Jeupa VII Anti-Personnel Cannon (Modified & Upgraded)

Base Damage: 787 per barrel

Battery Capacity: 4 per barrel (16 total)

Recharge Rate: 0.25 per hour per GMU

Ares Platinum Class Tier II Armored Jumpsuit

Effect: +218 Defense, +14% Resistance to Kinetic and Energy Attacks. +19% Resistance against Temperature changes. Self-Cleanse, Self-Mend, Autofit Enchantments also included.

Silversmith Mark II Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 18

Battery Capacity: 24/24

Recharge Rate: 2 per hour per GMU

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Omnitron III Class II Personal Assault Vehicle

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type II Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 57

Battery Capacity: 17/17

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU (currently 12)

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 307

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 350/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Enchanted, Reinforced Toothy Throwing Knives (5)

Base Damage: 238

Enchantments: Return, Mana Blade (+28 Damage), Pierce (-7% defense)

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

The Brumwell necklace of shadow intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions are more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.

Ring of Greater Shielding

Max Duration: 7 Minutes

Charges: 1

Simalax Hover Boots (Tier II)

A combination of hand-crafted materials and mass produced components, the Simalax Hover Boots are the journeyman work of Magi-Technician Lok of Irvina. Enchantments and technology mesh together in the Simalax Hover Boots, offering its wearer the ability to tread on air briefly and defy gravity and sense.

Effects: User reduces gravitiational effects by 0.218 SIG. User may, on activation, hover and skate during normal and mildly turbulent atmospheric conditions. User may also use the Simalax Hover Boots to triple jump in the air, engaging the anti-gravity and hover aspects at the same time.

Duration: 1.98 SI Hours.

F�Merc Nanoswarm Mana Grenades (Tier II)

The F�Merc Nanoswarm Grenades are guaranteed to disrupt the collection of Mana in a battlefield, reducing Mana Regeneration rates for those caught in the swarm. Recommended by the I�um military, the Torra Special Forces and the No.1 Most Popular Mana Grenade as voted by the public on Boom, Boom, Boom! Magazine.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates and spell formation in affected area by 37% ((higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 10m x 10m

Stars Asunder

Tao Wong

To gain his Master Class, John Lee made a deal with the Erethran Empire. Now, the Empire has come to collect on the debt, forcing him to appear in their capital after his last fight. Thrown into Galactic politics of a militarised, System-based society; John will have to weigh consequences of the decisions he's been asked to make and confront the warped reality of a System-created empire. When politics, self-interest and a human's stubbornness collide, the very stars are threatened. Stars Asunder is book 9 of the System Apocalypse, the bestselling LitRPG fantasy and space opera series.

Stars Asunder

Book 9 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you�re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Stars Asunder

A Starlit Publishing Book

Published by Starlit Publishing

69 Teslin Rd

Whitehorse, YT

Y1A 3M5

Canada

www.starlitpublishing.com

Ebook ISBN: 9781989458747

Print ISBN: 9781989458754

Hardcover ISBN: 9781989458761

Contents

What Has Gone Before

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author�s Note

About the Author

About the Publisher

Books in The System Apocalypse Universe

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Grand Paladin Skills

Junior Administrator Skills

Other Class Skills

Spells

Equipment

What Has Gone Before

John Lee is one such survivor, starting in the depths of the Yukon and traveling south to aid humanity in its struggle to stay free of their Galactic overlords. As a settlement owner in British Columbia, he joined forces with the remnant military forces of the United States on the West Coast and proceeded to wage a war to free the Canadian prairies and the US West Coast. Forced to take his Master Class Quest by the Erethran Honor Guard and the Erethran Champion, John returned from the Forbidden Zone planet he was teleported to with new powers, only to find a changed Earth in the four years he was gone.

Together, the newly Master-Classed John and his friends fought the Galactic interlopers, forging an alliance of human and aliens to form the first planetary government of a Dungeon World. Doing so cost, as it always did on the broken Earth.

To ensure the government continued to survive and take its place on the Galactic Council, John Lee and Mikito Sato along with the planetary representatives and other interested parties left Earth for Irvina, the System�s capital planet. Their presence angered many, and forced John and his friends to lash out, fighting back against oppressors who targeted him and the planet directly.

Years passed, as John and his friends � Mikito and Harry � waged a guerilla war against those who would restrict Earth�s expansion. Eventually, tired and worn, the group, with pirate captain Dornalor, stop at Spaks, an infamous pirate station. There, they are caught in an all out war between the pirates and the Galactic Council, whose objectives are deeper than they appear.

John meets the Corrupt Librarian Feh-ral, who gifts him the accumulated knowledge of the Corrupt System Questors. In the last clash of the war, John is forced to fight multiple Master Classers alone. In a last ditch attempt to stay alive, he opens a Portal and steps through, only to find his Portal leading him not to the station but to the Erethran Empire.

Now, John will have to complete his promise to the Empire, to fulfil his duties as a Paladin of Erethra. But in doing so, John Lee, the Redeemer of the Dead, might find himself angering forces even he should not contend with.

Chapter 1

Queen Karlelo is no demure, wilting flower of femininity. She�s hot in the Xena, Warrior Princess way rather than the petite, demure Disney Princess manner. Even seated on her throne on the raised dais, the Queen dominates the room. She�s at least seven feet tall, ripped and beautiful from generations of gene editing. Her presence is a palpable force, one that constantly sets off my Charisma and Aura Resistances. She rests on the throne on the Erethran capital planet of Pauhiri, her golden eyes boring into mine and glittering with amused curiosity.

Every inch of her is bedecked with enchanted Master, if not Heroic, Class items. There�s a diadem around her forehead that screams defensive equipment. Her light blonde hair is cut short, and a metallic plate feeding information into her brain takes up one side of her hairline where diodes glitter and sparkle. The purple dress suit covers her body, with small etchings and glittering embroidery in a language I don�t read offering offensive and defensive enchantments. The spear that rests on the throne is a Legacy Weapon, as is the bracelet around her right arm. I could go on, but suffice to say she�s casually bedecked in more�and higher Tier�equipment than the entire planet of Earth.

�So. This is our latest Paladin,� Queen Karlelo says.

I can�t help but glance at her Status information again.

Empress Hasbata Karlelo of the Erethran Empire, (more) (??? Queen Level ???)

HP: N/A

MP: N/A

Conditions: N/A

�Yes, Your Majesty,� I say. At least, that�s what I think is the right term. I really don�t know. It�s not as if I�ve spent a lot of time interacting with royalty. If I�d considered it, I might have bought a System information pack, but who expects to get dragged to see royalty?

�Smaller. And weaker than I�d expected.�

�True, Your Majesty. But he learns fast. Levels faster. And, occasionally, surprises us,� Ayuri d�Malla speaks up.

I turn my head to eye the woman, my captor and Erethran Champion.

�Rude. I�m right here,� I grump mentally to Ali.

While I might be as rude as a bull in a china shop at times, throwing out words and actions as carelessly as cheap necklaces from a Madris Gras float, I�ve still got some sense. And not backtalking the Queen in her center of power is one bit of it.

�I wouldn�t, boy-o.� Ali, my two-foo-tall floating friend sends back to me. Like myself, Ali�s changed his clothes and mirrors me in my sky-blue Erethran military uniform, with its high collars, epaulets, knee-high boots, and green trimming. The only thing he has different is the design on the epaulets. His is a minor variation on mine, indicating his role as a Spirit Companion to me�a Paladin of Erethra.

My �special� Master Class technically gives me a rank within the militaristic Erethran Empire. In fact, I report directly and only to the Queen herself. Paladins are part of a separate branch in their society, playing the role of wandering judge, jury, and executioner. We�re the troublemakers and problem solvers. At one point, there were as many as three dozen Paladins in the entire empire.

Now, there�s just one.

Me.

Technically, I�m not the only one still alive. My master? Sponsor? Mentor? The person who approved my ascension into the Master Class still lives. But she�s not coming back. Not anytime soon. Not ever, if she has anything to say about it. Which leaves me as the idiot holding the giant bag of shit that is the Erethran Empire.

�Wouldn�t what? I�m being good. Not telling them how pretentious and dumb-looking this entire room is. How much I�m getting flashbacks of Germany,� I reply to Ali.

The Spirit companion link is purely mental, run through the System. Over the years since the advent of the System and the destruction of Earth, I�ve gotten used to replying to him without showing it.

The throne room is less an ostentatious display of power and more of a functional bunker. It�s a structure with guards, shield projectors, and full-on artillery emplaced within. No gilt, no gold, no imposing pictures of past rulers. Hells, other than a few holographic projections of banners taken from the corpses of beaten armies and kingdoms�and in one case, a dragon�s head�it�s the least impressive throne room I�ve seen. Says a lot about the culture when they showcase their battle glories rather than gold and riches.

�I would listen to your Spirit, Paladin.� The Queen leans forward as she speaks, fixing me with a flat, disapproving gaze.

I feel the pressure she exerts, her Aura suddenly focused. For a second, my legs buckle, wanting to give way, wanting me to kneel and grovel for forgiveness. I can barely breathe, the pressure is so great.

Aura of the Empire partially resisted (90%)

I have to admit, I�m kind of impressed with myself. I wrap myself in the stubbornness, the muleheadedness that makes up who I am, and I refuse to kneel. It takes everything, even biting my own tongue till blood, coppery and salty, fills my mouth to focus and lock my knees. But I manage. The weight of an empire sits upon my shoulders, pressing on me in both a mental and physical sense.

And I resist.

Too bad I don�t have enough strength to offer a quip.

The tension in the room continues unabated for long minutes as I fight against her disapproval and the Queen turns aside to chat with one of her advisors. Her casual dismissal sets my anger alight, and I push back harder, no longer needing the goad of pain to stand.

Eventually, she relents, and I feel the pressure disappear. I stagger as the sudden disappearance throws off my sense of balance. As I catch myself, the snarl that threatened to erupt comes out. By the time I manage to control myself again, return my demeanor to something resembling polite, the Queen has leaned back on her throne.

Her fingers trace the upraised buttons on her steel gray throne as she speaks to Ayuri. �Barely adequate. He will need more Levels.�

�We know that. We did plan for him to conduct the training in the meantime.�

�What training?� I snap as they talk over my head. I was willing to be patient, but after that little display, I�m just about done being nice.

Fine. Maybe I don�t have a lot of sense.

�Of the other Paladins, of course.� The Queen sniffs then looks at Ayuri. �Are you sure he has specced into Intelligence?� She doesn�t wait for Ayuri to answer before continuing, already turning to another of her attendants. �Have it done.�

The moment she finishes speaking, Ayuri�s snaps off a left-handed salute, grabs me by the shoulder, and drags me out of the throne room. She doesn�t even wait for me to offer my own salutations. I could resist her�I might even be strong enough these days to physically stop her from moving me. But I don�t really want to stick around. So I follow.

�What other Paladins?� I hiss at Ayuri, only for the Champion to shush me as she hurries us out of the throne room. She�s probably scared that I�ll say or do something stupid. Again.

For my first introduction to royalty, I wasn�t stabbed, shot, or condemned to death.

I figure it was pretty good.

***

Once we�re striding down the hallway, open windows showcasing the distant and massive alien capital, the Queen and her aura a memory, Ayuri finally deigns to speak. �I told you to be polite. All you had to do was present yourself, wait for her to give you an order, and get out. How hard is that!�

�Well, she was the one who decided to listen in on my conversation.�

�Of course she was listening. We all were. That was the throne room. Did you think we wouldn�t have security measures to listen to potential threats? At the very least, it�d be a safety breach if we didn�t.� Ayuri threw her hands toward the ceiling. �Now, you just made it a lot harder than it had to be.�

�Really? And how did I mess up these plans you haven�t told me about?�

�I can�t say.�

�And more, neither of you have actually told me why you want me here. You kept on saying she�d tell me. But now, it sounds like even if I had kept my mouth shut, it wouldn�t be enough.� I cross my arms and plant my feet, waiting for her to come to a full stop. I still remember the Queen�s quip about my Levels.

�She would have been fine if you hadn�t insulted her. You only need three more Levels. We could have grinded the Levels together and called it done.�

�For what?� I let exasperation leak into my voice, into the way I stand. I let her see my true feelings, while hiding the lie of my true Level. In truth, I�m only a single Level from reaching the next tier of my Class Skills, but I�ve taken to using the Ring of Deception to show my Level as a little lower than it really is. Keeping some information hidden is good for me, especially since I have a feeling they want me for more than my Skills.

Ayuri stops, looking me up and down, then looks around us. Next moment, I feel the Mana around us freeze as a silenced area pops up within ten feet of us. Nothing, no sound, no Mana, can be sensed outside of that bubble. The sudden change catches me out, making me wonder what Skill it is.

And, as has become more common lately, a piece of information unfolds within my mind. Knowledge, that I didn�t gain naturally, making itself known.

Skill: Sphere of Gramus (Level 1)

The Sphere of the Gramus is a Skill that seals an individual away from reality. First pioneered by Gramus himself, the Sphere allowed him to contemplate the multiple variations of tastes that accompanied the consumption of his own body. Unfortunately, his continued eating of his own form, without sharing with the rest of his tribe, made him a heretic. Only the creation of this Skill allowed him to continue his private journey.

Effect: The Sphere of Gramus seals the user and an area off space (currently a radius of five (5) feet from user) from all external manipulation. No divination, Skills, and spells will enter or exit the sphere during periods of activation.

Mana cost: 500/minute

Ever since that godsforsaken Librarian stuck the entire Corrupted Questor library in my head, I�ve been getting little flashes of information. At first, it was pretty contained. Only when I decided to tap into the encrypted data would the squished-together information unspool. But whether it�s because I�ve been poking at the information, or because the Librarian�s Skill is degrading, I keep getting these little blips of information.

I now know more about Skills than I ever wanted or needed to. I guess that makes sense�knowing what Skills are being created by the System helps us understand it. It was just never an area I studied in great detail. Doesn�t mean that someone didn�t at some point in their search to answer the System Quest.

I blink away the information and focus on the Champion. I also do my very best not to think about that description. Or the other, rather disturbing, graphic imagery of Gramus, his people, and their entire race�s eating habits that the library provided. The universe is a very big place.

And it just keeps getting weirder.

�The Queen needs to designate an heir. She cannot put it off any longer. And before you ask, her choice as Queen was a compromise that ensured the survival of the Empire at that time. Along with the compromise was her promise to not give birth,� Ayuri finally spoke after she finished deploying her Skill. �There are three methods for us to choose a new Queen. Civil war. The Empire Trials. And the choice of the Paladins.�

�Great. So just get the contenders to take part in these trials,� I try to say lightly. Because the other options just do not sound fun.

But Ayuri isn�t willing to kid around. She stares at me, waiting for me to acknowledge the truth. I don�t want to. I don�t think it�s fair. But when she threw me through the Portal on Earth, she made me promise to come when they needed. At least once. So this is the once. This is what she needed me for.

�Seriously. Why not do the trials?� I ask.

�It is not that simple. The potential candidates are all powerful, pillars of our society. We don�t choose our royalty, our leaders, from just anyone. We�re a warrior society. A military-based one. If you aren�t able to garner the respect of the military, you�ll eventually fail.�

I might be slow, but I get it. �What you�re saying is, it�s people like you who�d be contending. High Master class, Heroics, maybe even a Legendary?�

�No Legendaries.� Ayuri shakes her head. �But it�s not just that. The trials were created ages ago, when we were land-bound to our planet. They value physical strength, the ability of an individual to take on an entire army by themselves. But these days, we need more than that in our Empress. We need range, skills that can reach across stars, even abilities to command multiple armies and ships at the same time. The ones who contest for the throne know that. They�ve built their Skills, their abilities to lead armies.�

�So the PR is a lie. You don�t need the person who can kick ass best, you need the person who can help all of you kick ass best,� Ali says, chiming in with a grumpy look. �And let me guess. These trials. There is only one survivor.�

�Yes.�

I exhale and shake my head. Obviously there�s only one winner. Why would you want to keep competitors alive? Better to kill them all, salt the earth with their bones, and eat their flesh. Or something idiotic like that.

At least that explains why they won�t use the trials. It�d almost be better to have a full-on civil war. At least then there would be multiple survivors from alliances and those who just give up halfway. Looking at it from that viewpoint, it�d be better to have your top men�your generals, admirals, marines, and whatever other forms of champions�not all die trying to contest for the position of Empress. Which�

Kind of leaves me screwed.

�You do know I don�t really know your society all that well? You�re asking me to choose your next Empress when I don�t even know what would work best.�

�Empress Apparent,� Ayuri replies. �The main contenders will all bring their own advantages to our Empire. That is, after all, why they are the contenders. The choice itself will trigger the System to provide us those benefits, which we need.�

�Need?� I frown. �Sounds like you�re rather desperate.�

�No, but the wars could be going better. This is the best choice from a series of really bad options.� Ayuri shakes her head, eyeing the dark walls of the sphere. �Don�t worry about it. By the time you�re done, you�ll understand us well enough to make a good choice.�

�What makes you think I won�t just sell it to the highest bidder?� I say peevishly.

I don�t deal well with getting pressured to do things I don�t like. And playing Praetorian Guard for an entire empire is kind of messed up. It�s a hell of a lot of pressure. I ran away from Earth because I didn�t want that kind of responsibility.

�Because you�re a Paladin,� Ayuri says.

If what I threatened to do bothers her at all, she�s not showing it one bit. I�m torn between feeling chuffed that she thinks I�m that honorable and annoyed that I didn�t manage to get a rise out of her.

�But you will be targeted. Especially by those who don�t think they will win your approval. Not right away, perhaps. But you will eventually.�

�Great.� I don�t bother trying to hide the sarcasm in my reply.

�How long does boy-o have? To learn an entire empire?�

�Some time. The choice cannot be made until the Queen makes the announcement and request. She won�t do that until you Level,� Ayuri replies.

As I said, I�m not exactly stupid. Between all the Intelligence points I�ve gained and some innate smarts, I put together the pieces pretty fast. �It�s the Shackles. The last tier in my Skill tree. You guys need it to keep the contenders in line.�

Ayuri nods but refuses to explain further.

I�m not exactly happy, but at least it gives me an idea of what�s coming down the road. On the other hand� �I�m not going to use my Skill points on that.�

Her eyes narrow. When I don�t balk at her disapproval, she sighs. �We have the budget for the purchase. We�ll need you to have multiple levels in that Skill anyway.�

I grunt, making note of that. Might be worth finding out what the difference between the levels would be. In the meantime, I cudgel my brain for other things I need from them. �So about the training��

Before I can continue speaking, Ayuri lifts her hand sideways and the world returns to normal. Her Skill disperses and noises return.

�You�ll be training a half dozen of my best Honor Guards. They�re all ready to ascend to the next tier, ready to become Paladins. You only have to train and test them, just as your mentor did you,� Ayuri says. �This job is important, Redeemer. We do not want another incident like you.�

I frown but kind of accept it. Can�t be nice, having to ask a random human, one who isn�t even part of your Empire, to judge the fate of your entire society. So they need to make sure that everyone I train can survive and keep growing to train the next generation after me.

On that note�

�You never did tell me. Whatever happened to the rest of the Paladins?�

�They fell.�

Chapter 2

We walk through the corridors of the palace in silence. Like the throne room, the Erethran Royal Palace�the eleventh of thirteen scattered throughout the Empire�was built and furnished more like a military base than a sumptuous location to relax. Bare corridors, multiple blast doors, the occasional sharp turn, and nano-woven organic walls that will grow crenellations for people to hide and shoot from. We stride down the corridors, keeping pace with one another, and spot the occasional guard, scurrying servant, and cleaning drone moving about, interspersed with the slew of administrators required to keep an empire running. I wonder how that works. With 3D holograms that look and feel just as real as being there, is there a reason for people to be next to one another?

Idle musings as we walk and float to our destination, Ali darting through the occasional wall to poke his nose around before exiting. He occasionally bounces off the walls, coming out swearing as Skills and enchanted material stop his passage. I�m playing the waiting game, curious to see how long Ayuri will hold out on explaining her last statement. Curious to see what is about to happen. She�s withholding information, refusing to add more details, and I�m not sure why.

So I�m not asking. Not because I�m being stubborn for shits and giggles, but because I want to see what she decides to tell me. And when. Sometimes, what people will tell you and when can tell you just as much as their words. The rest�

Well, there�s a reason Ali�s being rude, darting around like a crazed pixie on meth. And it�s not just because he�s Ali.

�You�ve learned patience,� Ayuri finally says after we�ve walked for a half hour.

Yes. A half hour. That�s how big the damn palace is and how much ground we�ve covered, especially when you consider how fast we can move with our higher base stats. We�re out of the main building, walking through open courtyards and passing numerous buildings, strolling along as we watch members of the Honor Guard train.

I grunt in reply.

�Or subtlety,� Ayuri says, eyes crinkling in humor. �Or you�re just stubborn. As usual. In all cases, you should ask. If you want to know.�

�Know why all the other Paladins are dead? Nah. I�m okay with certain doom hanging over my head,� I drawl.

Ayuri gives an exasperated huff. �You would do well not to anger one of your only allies in the Empire, Redeemer.�

I offer a smile, but she doesn�t rise to the bait. Yeah, okay, maybe I am being a bit of an ass.

�Paladins have a very short lifespan in general,� she says. �When they aren�t working for the army directly, they are off �questing,� completing Empire-generated Quests or their own idiosyncratic honor-bound requirements. Some worked alone, others in small teams. Their actions angered many of the powerful. Their questions and their Quests harmed numerous interests.

�One hundred and three years ago, our former King�s family was targeted by a pair of Paladins during a routine System-generated Empire Quest. In their usual mode of operation, the Paladins purged two-thirds of the King�s family, including his daughter.� Ayuri hesitates then reluctantly adds, �The Quest authorized them to do so, but they went too far. In his rage and grief, the King enacted a purge of all remaining Paladins, commanding the armed forces to go to war. Not that there were many Paladins left at that time.

�In the ensuing battle, the King was killed. The majority of the Paladins fell to his attacks. And we lost three decades of progress to a limited civil war.�

I frowned, eyes narrowing. �Wait. If they�re Paladins, shouldn�t they, you know, do what he says?�

Ayuri shakes her head. �You report to the Queen, but you are not subject to her authority. Your oath�the Paladin�s oath�has always been to the Empire.�

I keep my mouth shut and my face from changing as she says that. Because there are some things she�s better off not knowing.

�That leaves you wiggle room to do what you need to do. The Paladins are a balancing force in our Empire. Or should be.� Ayuri gestures around at the guards. �You understand how our society works, yes? In general?�

I pause, running through the information I�ve gathered. �Militaristic society with a sort-of nobility. Your Queen�I�m actually not sure why she�s not called an Empress all the time�is not elected or hereditary, as you mentioned.

�But you also have noble houses which have Classes and actual lineages, but they�re all part of the military complex. You don�t have a house of lords or commoners either, so it�s pretty much a tyranny. The Generals are often made up of the Lords, as are most of your business personnel. Even your legal system reports directly to the Queen, so she doesn�t really have a �check� on her power.� I frown. �So you�re saying the Paladins were that check?�

�Incorrect. The noble houses and the military are another check on her. Each General commands his own army, and the Generals themselves do not pledge loyalty to the Queen but the Empire. Only the Honor Guard��Ayuri waves her hand around the complex��and the Champions are the Queen�s.

�And to answer your question, it�s a Class. Empress. She has not reached it.�

I frown, considering what she said. �Why�d the army decide to destroy the Paladins?�

�Remember what I said about the Paladins making enemies?� Ayuri says. �Some of the Generals were among them. Given the command, they took the chance to even the score.�

�What Level is the Queen?� I send to Ali while she explains.

Ali hums for a bit, accessing data. Possibly just trying to figure out how to explain it. �Titled Classes like these are weird. You have two choices. You can either choose to discard all your previous Classes, use the experience from that act to buy into the nobility Class type, and go from there.

�Or you dual-Class in. You�re forced to have the Titled Class as your main Class, with your secondary Class relegated to no further experience gain. At that time you can discard some experience, drop down a few Levels, or change things up. But in Titled Classes like this, with specific size, population, and reputation requirements, you can access higher Tiers directly. Which is an advantage to a bigger empire like this, but you end up having to earn a lot more Experience to advance Levels. I�m assuming that�s what happened here, though her data�s hidden.�

I grunt. I can see how that�d work out, though I�m wondering if there are ways to break the System. It sounds possible. The System isn�t exactly built to be unexploitable, relying instead on the fact that it�s so big and sprawling that anyone, anywhere, can eventually figure out a counter for someone else. At least that�s my interpretation of it.

Add the fact that, in the majority, most people are content to just live their lives. Only a very small subset of individuals hurry along, trying to get the most out of any Class, any Level. Unfortunately for those guys, they often find themselves blindsided by other, more mundane pressures.

It�s kind of like lawyers, doctors, and dentists on old Earth being some of the most easily exploitable groups for fraud. They�re so confident in their own expertise that their arrogance gets them in trouble. And when they are taken, they often don�t learn from it or tell others�too ashamed by their failure�so they just end up screwed again. Or let others of their kind get screwed.

�If that�s the case, why the heck would the Queen want me to train up a new batch of potential problems for her?� I say.

Everything I hear makes Paladins sound more like troublemakers than a balancing force. Though I guess if you push a swing hard enough, it�ll eventually come a stop. Even if it means you�ve wrapped the chain around the post to do it.

�Because the Paladins are necessary,� Ayuri says heatedly. �Without them, we�re tottering on the edge of a civil war. They keep the peace. They go where our armies cannot and deal with threats that escape the borders of our Empire. They are investigators and judges, searching down corruption within our own ranks.�

Ayuri draws a breath and then lets it out slowly, forcing calm on herself. �And they�re part of our System-enforced Empire contract. If not for your mentor, the System would already have generated multiple new members before your arrival.� A slight pause before she continues. �We�d much prefer to have control of our membership.�

�Ah. Right.� I get it. They�re sending me people to train and turn into Paladins who are already loyal to the Queen. They won�t make a mistake of ending up in a civil war again. Which kind of makes sense, though I wonder how long that�d last. If they�re looking for me to find the Queen�s heir, then there are some deeper waters here. After all, there�s no guarantee that the new Paladins will be just as loyal to the new ruler. �So. I assume there are also going to be a large number of people who aren�t happy with me doing this?�

�Of course.�

�Great.� I say sarcastically. Not only do I have to worry about the real reason why she wants me here, even the cover is going to get me shot at.

Before I can say anything more, Ayuri leads me through another corridor into a courtyard. One filled with a half dozen aliens milling around, chatting or training.

The Champion waves her hand around. �We�re here.�

***

Here is a wide open courtyard edged with the cylindrical cones and the diagonal-sloped faces of shield projectors, all enclosed by the wings of a three-story building with large, reflective windows. Blast shutters hang over the windows, ready to deploy in the event of a problem. I wonder who, what, is looking out at us from the rooms, but I dismiss the silver buildings with their blue edging and numerous, semi-hidden field artillery. I�ve got more important things to focus upon, such as the threats before me.

A half dozen and one individuals stand before me in the Erethran Honor Guard uniform, looking like a special effects wet dream. They�re dressed in the usual armored-pants-and-tunic ensemble, sporting the exclusive Erethran royal family�s colors�purple and silver. Different from my own sky-blue uniform.

Of the seven, two of them are Erethrans, just like Ayuri, standing seven feet tall with their coral-like ears and slitted eyes whose giant yellow pupils seem particularly startling next to the almost non-existent nose and beak-like overhang of their face.

Another guard is a rock creature, all granite and brown rock, hands on his hips and laughing with a roach-like flying figure that hovers next to him, wings beating a low drone. There�s a Movanna, all pale and thin and pretty, hands on the bladeless hilts of basket swords strung on his belt, sneering at everyone as he looks around. And lastly, rounding out the non-Erethran group is a short, snappy, and furred Pooskeen chatting with a just-as-short Grimsar-dwarf.

Even if the entire group looks pretty relaxed, they face us the moment we arrive, conversations dying like a roach on a fireball.

�Attention!� one of the Erethrans shouts, and the group falls in with precision.

They stand there staring at me, chins and chests jutted out, feet together, wings folded, arms by their sides. It isn�t the kind of stare you give to people you like, but a challenging gaze, a weighing observation. They�re here to see who I am, what I am. I glower back as the planet�s giant sun beats down on us and wispy white-pink clouds drift past.

�Your initiates, Paladin,� Ayuri says. There�s a tone of quiet amusement in her voice, almost gloating as she looks over the group.

My lips twist, while Ali finally pops up the series of blue notification boxes about their Statuses. I ignore the group while I read.

Once I get past the third, I realize most of them are the same. Max Level or close to it. It�s bloody annoying that there are so many of them, but then again, they�ve got an entire damn Empire with hundreds of billions of individuals to draw from. Finding seven people who are dumb enough to want to be a Paladin should be simple.

I let my gaze run over the group one last time, gauging their stiff backs, the jut of their chins. As I�m about to speak, the memory of a voice comes back.

It�s languid. Lazy. Each word is drawled out, as if there�s great effort in speaking. The voice hints at the pain, the weariness and burden of its speaker with every word. Or maybe that�s just how I remember it after all the time I was on that planet, after all I remembered and learned. �Everyone thinks they know what a Paladin does. But few are willing to pay the real price. Are you, child?�

�Paladin?� Ayuri�s voice rises, as if she�s called my Title a couple of times.

I blink, my senses returning fully.

�You might want to drop the creepy smile, boy-o,� Ali sends to me urgently.

I realize I�m smiling, a toothy pull of the lips and cheeks as I stare at the group. It probably veers into crazy or savage, and I�m not particularly sure which one. One of the Erethran soldiers has dropped out of standing at attention, the woman going into a bladed stance with her backhand down by her side and front hand raised slightly. The others are all tense, but no one else has broken ranks, even if Roach flares its wings a little. When I wipe my smile, she relaxes slowly.

�All right, you bunch of loli-loving wannabes, let�s get something clear here. Being a Paladin isn�t a picnic, nor is it just another promotion. If that�s what you�re looking for, I suggest you become an Erethran Commander or General or whatever else Master Class you�ve got available.� Rather than insult them or make them annoyed, I�m surprised to see the soldiers relax. Maybe all soldiers, alien or human, are masochists? �To become a Paladin, you have to do two things.�

I let the silence stretch out, just �cause I can. When Ayuri glares at me, I continue, letting my voice project. �You need to prove to me you have what it takes to become a Paladin. And then, you�re going to have to fulfill the Class-change Quest.�

Ayuri twitches at the blatant repetition of what has got to be obvious information.

For a moment, I consider warning them that they could lose their lives, that the Quest I have to give can�t be made easier�or at least, not by much�because the System has its tenterhooks in it. Like all Class quests, like all System quests, there�s only so much I�d be allowed to change.

***

Another memory, another slew of data. Of tests, of attempts to change the System. Class-change Quests, System Quests generated from a Settlement sphere, Guild Quests, Dungeon Quests, on and on. Every type, every kind. Questors, with their Skills, attempting to manipulate them from outside, pitting themselves and their will against the System. And failing, with the backlash tearing apart Skills, pulling away health and experience. And sometimes, lives.

Questors on the inside manipulating the Quest itself, using the same Skills, adjusting the ratios, the payouts, the risk and details of Quests as they offer them to others. Fighting the System to offer more than the System wants. More than it is programmed to do. And some, a few, succeeding. Data, recorded, noted, parsed down, and then, another experiment. And another. Till, they fall.

But the information, always kept. Always recorded. For another Questor, another researcher willing to pit themselves against the System.

All to get another percent in their System Quest.

I shudder, seeing my own completion rate tick up. I get the flood of experience as memory goes away, leaving me reeling internally. But I can�t let them see it, so I don�t.

And I focus. Into the silence, as the group stares at me, waiting to hear what else I have to say. These people standing before me, they�re not likely to turn away because there�s a small chance of death. At least, not if I know anything about the Erethrans and the Honor Guard.

�You�re dismissed, for now. I�m sure Ayuri has a bunch of documentation to send me about you. After which, I�ll speak with each of you.� I pause. �Personally.�

�In the meantime, while I read, I want you to keep an eye on them. Talk to them, make friends if you think they�ll find you spying. I want your in-person judgment.� I send the last to Ali.

And then, turning on the balls of my feet, I walk back out the way I came. It takes Ayuri a few moments to catch up and follow, letting me stride off down the corridor for a bit and nearly out of the building itself before she speaks.

�You do know we�re going the wrong way to get to the offices, right?�

I grunt. A man has to make a good exit.

***

Luckily for my image and self-esteem, a simple Portal by Ayuri gets me to the right location. The office I take over consists of boring-ass pale blue walls, a single kidney-shaped table, and a pair of all-too-comfortable office chairs facing one another. A central door opens into the room, directly opposite the big window. Lighting in here is slightly off, just like the rest of the hallways� just a little too bright, just a little too hot.

Weird alien lighting schemes is an ongoing issue in the Galaxy. It�s one reason why most people dump some points into Perception and Intelligence, even if they aren�t going to use them for combat. The System helps us adjust across a broad range. The enhanced Perception offers us the ability to see and interpret light�and other senses�in a wider range than human�or alien�normal. The higher Intelligence points allow us to retranslate that back into our norms, or close enough that it doesn�t frag our brains.

And trust me, I�ve seen the results of lopsided Status attributes. It�s not that you need a lot of points�and for those who can�t afford the attribute increases, there are tech solutions�but at the Master Class Level, very few keep their exclusive and super-specialized builds, just to head off potential problems.

Once we�re in, Ayuri walks over to one corner and pulls a small circular cone from her Inventory, triggering the mobile hard light furniture creator. A moment later, a hard light lounging chair appears, onto which she flops. I mostly ignore her, for in the corner of my vision, a more interesting piece of information has appeared.

The full military records of our volunteers.

Taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk, I start reading. There�s a lot of information to get through. Everything from their full Status Sheets as of the last week to their battle records, their commendations, previous commander notes, build recommendations, and even a full psych profile. It�s kind of disturbing how detailed the information is, even though I know it�s routine for the Honor Guard. Maybe it�s disturbing because it�s routine. Either way, I learn more about these people, their families, and relationship situations than I know about my own companions. Which is rather sad, if you think about it.

Maybe I should ask a few more questions of my friends�

Chapter 3

A couple of hours later, I�m finally ready to see people in that little office of mine. In the meantime, I�ve adjusted the lighting to the human visible wavelength, transformed the Erethran-sized chair and desk to human norms�which make it just a little shorter than what they�re used to�and put up a nice outdoor vista on the walls. It�s a Pacific Northwest rainforest, a scene taken from the archives of the System. Peaceful and normal�and not at all filled with hungry monsters and mutated trees that produce carbon monoxide or eat you when you fall asleep beneath them.

My first visitor is Freif, one of the two native Erethrans. Can you even call them natives, when they abandoned their homeworld thousands of years ago to the System? Something for the alien anthropologists out there to answer. When he marches in and stands at attention, I�m idly reviewing his file again.

Freif�s build and personal weapon choice is clear. He�s the guy who sits on the rooftop somewhere, watching out for bad guys, or is sent far away, deep into enemy territory, to deal with enemy commanders. Outside of the basic Erethran Soldier and Honor Guard build, he�s got a few Class Skills that emphasize aimed and single shot damage. Of them all, Freif has the least number of �Slayer� titles, because outside of routine operations, he isn�t meant to be mixing it up directly.

Once again, I flick my gaze over his Status screen, lips pursed.

Freif T�raoor, Slayer of Kobolds, Trolls, Goblins, (more), Marksman Champion IV, Krismat Pathfinder, Chaumi Desert Survivor, � (Erethran Honor Guard Level 50)

HP: 2780/ 2780

MP: 2510/2510

Conditions: Life Suppression, Scentless, Not the Droids, Ten Steps Closer, Mana Drip, Anchored Return

But that�s his Status screen, his sheet. That�s not him. And as I stare at the man standing at parade rest before me, hands clasped behind his back, I can�t help but wonder if he has what it takes. His psych profile reminds me he�s a loner on duty, but a people person�a crowd pleaser and joker�when he�s with his peers. On top of that�

�You�ve been through three separate physical cleanses, all because you�ve not been able to keep clean.� I don�t recognize the names of the drugs, but I don�t need to. Their effects are clear enough from the report. �Can�t handle the pressure?�

�The incidents were twenty years ago. Paladin Sir,� Freif answers me with a tight tone.

�We�ll see.� When my pronouncement gets a flat-faced return stare, I go on. �Why do you want to be a Paladin?�

�I was ordered to show up for this recruitment process. Paladin Sir.�

�Drop the Paladin Sir nonsense.� I point a finger at him �I didn�t ask why you were here. I asked why you wanted to be a Paladin.�

�Because they are linchpins of the Empire. Paladin Sir.� Freif barks out the answer, his gaze fixed on my face but not meeting my eyes. It�s a trick I�ve used before, to seem respectful but not.

I snort and wave him out. It�s not much of an answer, but it�s an answer I�ll take.

For now.

***

�Ropo Dhagmath. Master Brewer. Poison Master. Slayer.� I flick the Status Screen to stay right above the bearded Grimsar. Unlike our fantasy Dwarfs, he�s got a small beard, neatly trimmed to ensure it doesn�t get in the way of putting on a battle suit. The beard is streaked with white and gray, mirrored in his braided hair that covers his head in tight bundles. He�s the oldest in the bunch, nearly hitting a hundred eighty, and it shows in the hair and lines on his face. �Not your usual secondary build and occupation for an Honor Guard member.�

Ropo Dhagmath, Silver Axe Thrower of the Sixth Deep Warren, Master Brewer, Poison Master, Slayer of Trolls, Goblins, Hakarta, (more), � (Erethran Honor Guard Level 49 / Poison Specialist Level 38)

HP: 4180/4180

MP: 2340/2340

Conditions: Loved by Poisons, Venoms & Toxins, Necrotic Damage Resistant, Serve them Twice, Tip the �Tender, Potions to Mana Siphon, Alchemist�s Inventory, Stand my Ground

�Poisons and toxins are a major source of fatalities among our forces, Paladin.� Ropo�s deep voice rumbles as he speaks. �Some of our enemies and dungeons are toxin-filled. Training to gain resistances to join the Guard is required. Not all of us were able to skip such training.�

My eyes narrow slightly while Ayuri�s close-eyed grin widens. Of course, Ropo can�t see her grinning since she�s behind him, but she�s obviously amused. I do wonder if this kind of backtalk is normal for the Guard. Then again, I�m not in their direct chain of command. Or am I?

For that matter, are they even using the correct forms for talking to a superior officer? They are talking in Erethran, which is distinct from Galactic itself. But the details sometimes get lost when you buy language packs from the Store. Blindspots you never knew you had until they hit you in the face like a falling tree.

�So you were the medic before you joined the Guard. And during. And, of course, having someone able to treat poison as an Honor Guard is a good idea. Which is why you�re specialising in bodyguard Skills, like Sanctum.� I watch Ropo nod at my words. �Comfy, stable job. So why do you want to be a Paladin?�

�A Grimsar has dreams.�

I raise an eyebrow and dismiss the dwarf. That�s an interesting choice of words. He�s old, but stable. A family man, though all his kids are grown. Grandkids abound, and even some great-grandkids. That�s an obvious weakness, compared to the other candidates. A leverage point. I wonder if he�s willing and able to sacrifice them, if it came to it.

More to the point, he�s a dreamer. Aren�t they supposed to die early?

***

Next up is the rock man, whose very movements send miniscule shocks through the floor. I�m surprised, because the floor itself is reinforced. And even if I�m extremely sensitive to motion these days, it�s still one heck of a feat. Unlike the usual full-sleeve-and-pants uniform rig of the others, the rockman�s uniform is made up of short-sleeves and cargo shorts.

�How come Rocky�s playing rock and roll with his feet?� I shoot the thought to Ali, while I study the Status Screen hanging above Rocky�s head.

Kino Kaan, Last Survivor (II), Medallion of the Kozma, Bearer of the Yellow Flame, Sapper, Slayer of Goblins, Yerrick, the Deep Lovers, Wendigo, Enfields, � (Erethran Honor Guard Level 50)

HP: 4500/4500

MP: 2140/2140

Conditions: Increased density, Juggernaut, Resistance to All, Stand My Ground, Geopositioned, Triple Health Regeneration Nanites, Memorised Form

�The Risen are all denser than they appear. Makes them the perfect tanks because they�ve naturally got a physical defense resistance over a hundred plus percent,� Ali sends back. �Increased density and weight is just one of the side-effects. Of course, most get a Light Foot Skill or two to off-set that.�

I grunt, recalling the Skill in Rocky�s notations. That means he�s either choosing to make a point by stomping in here or he�s so dense, his Skills are still not enough. I�m not entirely sure which option I like more.

�So, Rocky, you�re the tank. The perfect bodyguard who stands in front of the Queen until everyone else gets her out. Or the guy who lets the battleship fire upon him while his platoon preps the anti-ship artillery.�

I�m not great at reading rock, but the slight shiver that sends rock dust floating to the floor shows I�ve scored a hit. I�ve been hit by that kind of fire. Even if you survive, it still hurts. Rocky�s granite face makes him look like a less expressive Uncle Ben from the Fantastic Four, which isn�t useful. I�d rather have Jessica Alba myself.

�So what makes you want to be a Paladin?�

�Because I can survive it.�

�We�ll see about that.� I gesture Rocky away, watching as he tromps off.

Solid. Quiet. Your typical tank. Except the Risen are few in number, almost all of them joining the army at some point. Their family system is weird, with children born when a Risen decides it�s time to split. They shatter themselves, creating a mini them that then hibernates for a century or two before rising. Weird, but it means every child is precious and taken care of by the entire race. And the loss of a single one is to be mourned.

No easy handles at least.

***

�Are you just calling them in to ask that single question?� Ayuri says while we wait for my next victim. Sending them down to the courtyard and back without teleporting means we�ve got time to wait. Not as much as you�d think, since the higher Dexterity in all their abilities means they�re basically hot-footing their way back and forth.

�Pretty much.�

�Why?�

I grin at Ayuri�s question.

�Seriously, Redeemer. Why?�

�You�ve trained them too well,� I say, gesturing to the window and the courtyard behind me. �Other questions won�t get a proper response. So. One question. Then I�ll figure out a way to tease out the truth.�

�Oh? And how would you do that?�

I shrug, not having found an answer yet. Though I have hints.

Before we can speak further, the door chimes and slides open, leaving me to regard the horror-inducing appearance of my next speaker.

My next victim-volunteer arrives, wings flaring a little as he steps through the door. I lean back, eying the roach-flyer�a Che�dah from a Dungeon Planet just like me�as he regards me with its compound eyes. I shudder a little, an atavistic instinct making me want to squish the bug. Preferably with a ten-foot hammer.

And I know exactly where to find one.

�Redeemer.�

I cock my head at the greeting. It�s a breach of protocol in a way. But not really.

The usage of Titles is a social construct of System-created society. Titles that matter more to specific cultures are always used first, in front of other Titles. So the usage of Titles varies depending on social standing.

As an example, the Hakarta are more likely to use my Monster Bane Title over a general Slayer Title�if I ever get one. In turn, they�d discount my rank of Paladin entirely, since that�s a Class and only Erethran. Redeemer of the Dead is the Title most commonly used, because it�s a unique Title, even if it has no other direct benefits like Monster Slayer.

Other cultures might see social rank Titles�like Lord and Lady or Duke�as more important. It�s a little bit of a mess, but the big thing is that rather than using the �correct� Title�in this case, my rank as a Paladin for their armed forces�the roach has decided to use my Redeemer Title. It says something about the society the Roach lives in, though what, I�m not sure yet.

Smo�kana Sa�l�a�la, Monster Slayer, Slayer of Goblins, Isooma, Yerrick, Nuckelavee, (more), 12891^th^ Spawn Survivor, Multi-Classed,� (Erethran Honor Guard Level 47)

HP: 2940/2940

MP: 2840/2840

Conditions: Multi-Classed (Shadow Stalker), Fire Resistant, Ablative Impact Resistance, Fountain of Mana, Shadow Consort

�So, Smo, you�re a fellow Dungeon World survivor. Don�t meet many of you guys,� I say. �How come?�

�Swarm perish. Mother Brood Die. Sixth Cycle of Rebirth of the Third Line.� Smo�s got a clicking, buzzing tone to his voice, as if he�s a bad transistor radio that has never been tuned properly.

I dart a look at the lounging Ayuri for clarification.

Silence stretches out until she finally cracks an eye open and replies, �Sargent Sa�l�a�la�s race is birthed from eggs, produced by queen Che�dah. Their race is one that was uplifted by the System integration, but during the process of integration, the majority of uplifted queens were lost. There are now three remaining queens on the planet, leaving them vastly undermanned.� Ayuri pauses then adds, �It doesn�t help that each birth swarm goes through a period of intense cannibalism. It does mean survivors have a headstart on Levels though.�

�Oh.� I eye his title, realizing it wasn�t just a throwaway note. Then again, most Titles aren�t. They�re gained due to either Galactic Council or System intervention for notable achievements. Which is kind of disturbing when you consider how many siblings he probably ate that the System felt it worthy of a Title.

Ugh.

I suddenly decide I need a bath. �So why do you want to be a Paladin?�

�First in Line. Power. Consume. Rebirth.�

I glare at Smo while Ayuri explains. �One of the powers of the queen�s class is the consumption of their brood to pass on Skills to the next generation. Greatly weakened, of course, but it can allow the development of unique Classes. The queen is quite interested to see what the consumption of a high-Level Paladin would engender.�

�Yeah, okay. That�s just messed up.� I shake my head and point at the door. �Out. And send in the next.�

I get a click and buzz, the Che�dal�s wings flaring as he turns and flies off.

Cannibalism. Fun for all Galactics.

Not.

***

She�s cute. That�s my first thought now that I�m able to look closer at the female Erethran. Slim, muscular in the athletic and active way, the Erethran Honor Guard stands at rest with a wariness in her eyes. As I flick my gaze over her, I note the rather extensive list of buffs she has on. Unlike many of the others, she�s nerfed her passive regeneration like Bolo in return for ongoing Skill effects, including a wide range of buffs.

Anayton Nichortin, the Everlasting Light, Winner of the 185^th^ Cross-World Bollman Race, Mana Fount, Flesh Golem, Slayer of Goblins, Leoucroucta, Nuckelavee, (more), � (Level 50 Honor Guard)

HP: 3140/3140

MP: 3230/3230

Conditions: Time Compression, Double the Gain, Double the Pain, Greater Regeneration, Save Point, Greater Mana Regeneration, Battle Flow, Strength of the One, Agility of the One, Mind of the One, When the End Comes, (more)

�By the way, I�ve been meaning to ask. What do you guys have against Goblins?� Every single Honor Guard I�ve met thus far has had that Title.

�They are a common pest and one that we need to deal with across all our planets, sir. Basic Units are sent to deal with growing nests as training. They are an easy source of Level Ups while fulfilling our ongoing peacekeeping efforts,� Anayton replies.

�Oh. Huh,� I say. �You guys send entire units to wipe out a Goblin nest?�

When she nods, I can�t help but feel somewhat sympathetic for the poor Goblins. My team managed to take out a Goblin nest by ourselves�and we were all pretty much Basic Classers back then. For them to send a whole unit seems a tad overkill.

�Goblins are a pest. No matter how many you kill, they always return. Like ants, in your world. Or your Common Cold.�

My eyes narrow again, curiosity pinging. She�s the first to show any indication that they�ve done research on me. Not to say the others didn�t, but she�s blatant about it. �Fair enough. So tell me. Why do you want to be a Paladin?�

�Is answering your question an order?�

�Not yet,� I say.

When she clamps her mouth shut and continues to not answer me, I gesture her out.

The moment the door closes, Ayuri drawls, �I know you�re no military man, but allowing your subordinates to defy you is bad for discipline.�

�Good thing I�m not in the military. Or training a military unit.� I flash her a grin, then ignore her inquisitive glance as I focus on the next Status screen. Let her mull over that.

As for Anayton, I remember how she flowed into a combat stance. Her reports all indicate a level of minor insubordination coupled with extremely high marks for performance. Her background as a commoner from a Restricted World. She�s mouthy, without any real ties to those outside of the Guard. And few close ones within.

A loner.

***

�Don�t see many of your kind in the Empire,� I say, my gaze roaming over the Pooskeen. Long snout, short ears, short hair with traces of stripes that make me think of a hyena more than a real dog. Especially with the reddish-brown-clay fur that covers the creature. �And you�re the first non-Honor Guard.�

�I�m grateful for the chance,� the Pooskeen yips, its voice high and grating. I kind of want to rub at my ears, the way it speaks.

�Not chance. You earned the spot, from what I can see. Ancillary support Shaman for the fire teams. You�ve been forced to work with them, but not be part of their actual command and payment structure. Hard living, not being paid your full rate and still facing the same�if not more�dangers. Though I�m a little puzzled by your Skills.� My gaze rakes over his Status Screen again, picking out his buffs.

Gheisnan of the Two Palms, Minor Seer, Cassandra, Rebel Marked, Slayer of Goblins, Uyyi, Qawe, (more), � (Four Eyed Shaman Level 50)

HP: 2640/2640

MP: 2380/2380

Conditions: Eyes of the Future, Twisted Destiny, Scion of the Fates, Personal Timeline, Fate Siphon, Greater Mana Regeneration

�Cassandra?� I send to Ali. He�s a distance away, but I can still talk to him, though I�m trying not to bother his spying. But this is a new one.

�Greek mythology. I figured it�d be more fun than �Forecaster of doom that no one listened to.��

�Prophecy and foretelling,� Gheisnan says. �My people have much Skill at that.�

�Your people�� I flick my hand sideways.

A notification floats in front of him, stolen and replicated to Ayuri�s side by a twitch of her finger. It�s a recording, a piece of data I�ve kept stored in my implant. Sent years ago by the team to inform me of what was happening in another part of my then domain. A small town where bones and other unmentionables lay gnawed upon and discarded as humans whimpered in the corner, staked to the ground in their own refuse. Pooskeen bodies lie, weapons drawn, facing out�slain by the team sent to liberate the town while we fought through Alberta.

�Tell me why I shouldn�t kick you out right now,� I say.

�Those are not my people,� Gheisnan yips, his fur bristling, that short stubby tail flicking so agitatedly that I can spot it behind his body. �Fallen clans. A twisted kingdom.�

�Pretty sure they�re from your main planet.�

�Twisted and fallen.� Gheisnan snarls, fish clenching. A green, sickly light radiates from his body as he speaks, his entire body leaning forward from his hips as if he could shove the truth, along with his words, down my throat. �My people are the true heirs of the Pooskeen heritage. We are nothing like the twisted creatures the Oynaci Dynasty have created. They have destroyed our culture, our heritage. All to keep themselves on top.� Gheisnan almost froths at the mouth as he speaks, having taken an inadvertent pair of steps closer. �Paladin or not, I will not let you declare us the same as those things.�

�Touchy, are we?� I can�t help but admire the fire though. If there�s one thing a Paladin needs, it�s fire. Passion. Because when the chips are down, when things are at the worst, you can�t just back off. Not now, not ever. �I�m curious what makes you think you can become a Paladin. Pretty sure it was only open to me because I was an Honor Guard.�

Ayuri speaks first, well before Gheisnan can say anything. �It�s uncommon. But there have been cases of non-Honor Guards being elevated to the Class. It requires a Prestige Class at the minimum, which the adjunct has. The Quest itself grows significantly harder. And, of course, it requires the agreement of a Paladin. That is rare enough to get.�

�I see.� I fall silent, eyeing the short dog-like creature. My own Quest had been a simple one�if you could consider killing over-Leveled monsters in a Forbidden World simple. Still, the first step was having me agree to give them the quest. Which leads me to� �Why do you want to be a Paladin?�

�For the honor of my people. My real people.� And when he finishes speaking, Gheisnan glares, daring me to challenge his words.

I decline and send him off.

***

Lastly, we have the pretty little duelist Movanna. All elf ears, long hair, and beauty. The annoying part is, I can tell he�s not even put points into his Charisma on purpose. He�s just that pretty naturally. Makes me want to gag at the unfairness of genetics.

As he saunters in, all cat-like grace and the arrogance to match, I can�t help but check out his Status information again. Of them all, the Movanna has the longest and most in-depth documentation. I�m curious why he got the Title for Century Guard when Ropo didn�t. System-centric racism?

Magine a Clarson, Century Guard, Monster Slayer, Loadah Champion Duelist (VIIX and VIX) & (more), Slayer of Goblins, Kraska, Wexlix, Frakin, (more), Dueling Addict,�(Erethran Honor Guard Level 50)

HP: 2740/2740

MP: 2540/2540

Conditions: Blitzed, Face Me, Aura of the Duelist, Burst Attack, Greater Resistance, Ablative Shield

�I didn�t expect to see a Movanna in Erethra,� I say, showing that I�ve yet to learn to not stereotype the races. Or I have, but I kind of want to see what he has to say.

�There�s a small community.� Magine shrugs. �Live a few hundred years, and you start wanting to travel a little. My parents found their way to Erethra before they were killed by pirates. But you know that.� His gaze flicks upward to where my notification screens hang.

�I do. I also noted that your stated goal was to become a Champion. So why give that up now?�

�Because the option is no longer viable.�

�Paladin�s your second choice,� I say.

I can understand that. The Champion sub-Class is a unique Class, one that can only be held by a single person at a time. Not to say there aren�t other types of Champions, but the Champion of Erethra Class Ayuri has is unique.

It�s part of why her Skills are so insanely powerful. Or not. That�s the double-edged sword of being a �Champion.� Many of the Skills scale according to the strength of whatever you�re linked to. A failing Empire could nerf the Class significantly. Of course, there are also other restrictions on the Class�like being forced to be subservient to another. Which, I�m guessing, is why he�s given up on the other Champion options.

�A distant, if respectable second. But the Champion has shown her mettle,� Magine says, turning his head slightly to take in the lounging form of Ayuri. �She will stand for the Empire. In turn, I must find another form of service, and returning honor to the Class is a worthy task.�

I wonder if that last line is a barb against me. Or how much of a barb. �Well, that�s clear enough.�

I dismiss Magine, leaving me to stare at the closed doors. I�ve got my answers, an idea of who these people are. And soon, I�ll get an idea of what they are like when I�m not around, when Ali is watching them. Even so�

�Are you satisfied?� Ayuri says, sitting up from her chair. �Or do I have to find others for you?�

�You guys really want more Paladins, don�t you?�

�They are a pillar of the Empire, and their lack shows.� She gestures to the door. �They are the best we have, of what we believe should work. Others, at lower Levels, might be suitable but��

�But you don�t think I have enough time to Level them.�

Ayuri inclines her head in acknowledgement.

�I don�t know what you expected to happen, but I�m not about to wave my hands and just give them my assent to acquire the Class.�

�Why not?� Ayuri raises a carefully plucked, graceful eyebrow. �Would it not simplify the matter? If you�re worried if they are suitably loyal, that was our first criteria.�

�Loyal to your Queen, perhaps.� I shake my head. �But being a Paladin is more than loyalty to your Queen. Or, hell, loyalty to your Empire.� I put a hand over my heart. �Case in point.�

Ayuri�s eyes narrow. �Are you saying you�re a threat to us?�

�No.� I shake my head. �At least, not in the way you think.� I kick back, putting my feet on the desk. I stare at the ceiling, memories of my time in the Forbidden Zone coming back to me. �Did you ever wonder why Suhargur never came back? Why she�s putting the lives of an entire planet over that of the Empire?�

�I have a feeling you�re about to tell me.�

�We�re here to protect the Empire�its citizens and what your Empire is supposed to be. Not what you think it is,� I say, looking at her through parted feet. Ayuri�s lips thin through the V of my crossed legs, and I wonder if she�s going to hit me. I�m giving her the best shot she�ll get.

But taunt or not, she doesn�t rise to the bait. �So. You�re not going to rubber stamp our choices.�

�Not without running a couple of tests,� I say.

�And what would those be?�

�Well, funny thing you should ask�� My grin widens behind my feet. �I�m going to need to make a call. Or two.�

Chapter 4

Ali finds me in my quarters a while later, the personnel files of my recruits spread all around me. I have my feet up in the air�literally as force wards cushion me as I lounge�while scanning through the documents and accompanying videos. I�m still waiting for my call to be put through, but I�m not worried. It�s only been a few days since I was yanked all the way here, and my last message to my friends cautioned them that I�d be busy. They�re probably doing their own things and not in any hurry to speak to me.

On the other side of the window�plain, reinforced glass windows backed with a nearly invisible force shield�the sun is setting. I haven�t been around long enough to figure out their seasons, but in this world, days are long and nights short. With a pair of moons hanging overhead and light filtered to make the sky purple at this time of day, it�s a strange and unsettlingly beautiful sight.

�So?� I ask the Spirit.

�The Poos found me,� Ali says, floating over. The brown-skinned, goateed Spirit floats along in his favorite orange jumpsuit, flicking his gaze over my datasets before turning to me fully. �But I listened in for a bit. They�re a pretty buttoned-up group.�

No surprise, if they�re the elites. Ali keeps talking, filling me in on his impressions. For the most part, it confirms much of what I gathered. The group is generally well-mannered, grouping into small clusters along the lines of previous engagements and missions fought together. They talked about past missions, old friends, and quietly measured each other up.

No one showcased any real notable Skills, but most considered Freif�the marksman�the most dangerous of the lot. Well, either him or Magine, from the way they interacted. Ali couldn�t tell for sure, but those two were the snarling male lions of the pack. It�s a subtle thing though, no giant posturing by either.

�Fun. I got another question for you,� I say when Ali finishes by relaying a horrible story that he overheard about an Erethran pangolin, a stick of dynamite, and a latrine.

�Of course you do. What is it?�

�Why is Ayuri letting me scupper their plans?�

�Scupper?�

�Mess with. Destroy. They want Paladins. All I really have to do is give them my blessings and� whoosh. Off they go.�

�Ah.� Ali scratches his nose. �You still need me to answer the question?�

�Obviously.�

�Surprised. But it might be a little too political and obvious,� Ali says. �Good to know I�m not completely useless.�

�Blah, blah, blah. I hear a lot of talking, not a lot of answers.� I wave for him to hurry it along, then I have to reposition my windows when they follow my hand motions. Most of the time, the System is fine, but occasionally, it messes with me. Or it could be Ali doing the messing.

�You got to remember. You�re a separate organization in their hierarchy. Ayuri can�t exactly order you to do what she wants. Even the Queen has to be careful. Secondly, if you read your data pack, you�d remember that the picking of Paladins is a time-honored internal tradition. Messing with that��

�Could mess with the first point.� I say, catching on. Right. If you let people�and in this case, that includes the Queen�interfere with how Paladins get picked, you�d end up with not an independent organization but an extra arm in their armed forces. �Still, it�s not as if I knew that. So if they pushed me��

�That brings me to point two. Advanced Master Classes�prestige Classes�all have restrictions on their creation and their development. Mess with the requirements or details of Classes too much and the System can just as easily take away the Class,� Ali says.

�It can do��

Before I can finish my sentence, information blooms. Data. So much data. It rips through my mind, makes me tense and twist in my chair so much that I fall. The kiss of the floor is so distant, it might as well be a kitten�s first nuzzle. I�m distracted as videos, articles, and voice recordings decrypt themselves in my mind.

�I will not!� The voice is panicked, loud. So close to breaking, so close to insanity.

A chainsaw grates, cutting into another tentacle. The speaker writhes, purple and white limbs thrashing. The attacker doesn�t stop until the limbs are lopped off entirely. And the alien thrashes, health falling and falling. Until a glow encompasses the thrashing alien, healing and sealing off wounds. And then, they regrow.

�Sign. We can do this all year.�

Such a cold voice. Clinical. I can�t see the speaker, I can only sense them, through the recording. Sense them, and see, feel, the limbs, all the limbs that twist and twitch beneath his feet that tell a tale. A shortened, grotesque tale of how long they�ve done this. How often.

�I�ll sign�� the alien sobs.

Memory breaks. The video speeds up or maybe my memory of the video blips.

The alien is thrashing, its one tentacled-hand raised toward the notification. The one where it rescinds heritage rights to its own family. Breaking its own Advanced Class, that of the Podkeeper Scrooge. Destroying the tenents of its own Class.

And the System acts.

Tearing it from its Class, stripping it of its additional attributes, throwing it all the way back to a Basic Class. The process is painful, dangerous, and at the end, the alien is dead. Too much leftover damage, too low a Constitution�or perhaps too much pain.

The creature lies dead while in a corner, the researcher�s hands are outstretched, flicking and twisting as he manipulates the System information windows he�s reading. I know that because in the corner of my mind, the same data is unscrolling. Mana levels, data streams, and System code-gibberish�all of it displayed and unencrypted. All of it being prodded, pulled, and compared against other research, other test subjects.

I shudder as another memory pushes this one aside. Another experiment. Less gruesome, with less lethal results. But this was because the previous experiment had found the final member of the Class and broken it; while here, they just broke the herm.

Data. So much data, most of it gruesome. For these tests, you could record the occasional historical instances, but for good, reliable data, you needed to run your own experiments.

And I�d once thought the Questors were relatively benign.

�Boy-o?� Ali�s worried voice finally pierces my clouded mind.

I find myself on my knees, spitting out blood from a bitten lip, wiping a bleeding nose, and groaning. In the corner of my eyes, I absently note the damage counter, the amount resisted from mental debuffs and injuries. Twice in one day, the library assaults me.

If I was anyone else, if I had a weaker Class�

I spit and stagger upward, casting a simple flame spell to burn off the blood and a Cleanse to clean up. When I spot Ali, he�s looking all too grim.

�The usual?� he asks.

�Yup.�

We don�t dare say why. What happened to me, the stuffing of the entire damn Corrupted Questor�s library in my mind. It�s dangerous. Quite potentially lethal. Better to stay silent on it until we know exactly how much danger I�m in. How much I�ve changed. Because I have changed, beyond knowing more than I should, seeing more than I should.

It�s possible that it doesn�t matter. It�s possible that Feh�ral got away and replicated the library somewhere else. That I�m just a backup and they don�t care about the data anyway. They went after him on Spaks because he neared Quest completion, because he reached the ninety percent mark. Not because of the library. Or so I hope.

System Quest Update!

+238,912 XP, +18,281 XP, +8 XP,�

System Quest Completion Rate: 84.7%

Or so I think.

But those experience gains have been increasing. My percentage is creeping up, no matter what I do. Not that I don�t want it to go up�but a little more control would be nice. A little more clarity. I�m learning things about the System, but I don�t have context. I don�t understand.

What is the System?

And why is it important that the System can take away Classes? That it�s limited by Mana density? And yet it breaks down in Forbidden Zones, where Mana is more than abundant. Even when, in totality, there�s more System Mana there than anywhere else. Why is the System-script both completely legible Galactic and completely inlegible runic script? Runic script that no computer, no databank, no AI or Class has ever gotten even close to deciphering? The script defies understanding because it changes, morphs in meaning and context with every look, every attempt at reading. Why does the code change, even for the very same Skill and the same person?

Too many questions, too little answers.

But my Quest completion rates keep going up.

I shudder and push aside the thought and focus on what I can handle. What is right in front of me. Because anything else�well, that�ll just scare me.

�So. Politics.�

�Politics, boy-o. It�s always politics with Galactics,� Ali says as if he�s seen it all. And I guess he has, in some ways. The Spirit is enigmatic, his history clouded, but I know he�s thousands, if not tens of thousands, years old. I�m just the latest in a long, long line of companions for him. The Spirit floats off to the window, staring outside. �And knowing you, you�re going to mess with their plans. So. What do you intend to do?�

�Nothing on purpose,� I say, flopping back into my chair. �I�m not planning on making enemies.�

�You never plan on it.�

�But it happens,� I finish for the Spirit. �I need to make sure they can survive. No point in giving them their Quest, then watching them die completing it. Or a month later, when they don�t realize what it means to be a Paladin.�

�And you do?� Ali says, turning around to look at me. �You�re not exactly Erethran. Or, you know, part of their society. Nor have you done any of the Paladin�s traditional job.�

I grunt. �You have a point. But I know more than they do.� At Ali�s raised eyebrow, I shake my head. �They�ve not had one for too long. Or maybe they don�t want them to survive.�

�And what does it mean to be a Paladin?�

�Being the ass that everyone targets.�

***

When the call finally comes through, I�ve been reading for hours. At this point, I�m mostly reading because the minor details I might be picking up subconsciously could be helpful in their training. A quick scan was more than enough to get me ninety percent of everything there was to know about each initiate, but at the levels we operate at, that last ten percent is where eighty percent of deaths occur. When fights happen in milliseconds, the tiniest edge can mean all the difference.

�Mikito. Good to see you. Are you guys okay? Anything I should know? When will you be here?� I greet the short-haired, severe-faced Japanese woman with a barrage of questions. It�s been a while since I�ve spoken to them, days even.

Not that they�re in that much danger, I think. Mikita is with Bolo, who I notice in the back of the transmission. The ram-horned giant of an alien is a Master Class at the same Level as me. And stronger. After all, he didn�t skip the entire Basic Class. He�s got a wider variety of Skills, a lot more experience, and Dragon Lords are geared toward one-on-one fights. They are, basically, a pure Combat Class.

A Paladin of Erethra isn�t.

My only real concern is that, as of their last message, Dornalor doesn�t have his ship yet. After all that fighting, the docks are extremely busy. It�ll be a while before they replace the Heartbreak, even with the funds the station has released. He�s still debating if he intends to wait for them to build him a new ship at a significant discount or just take the Credits and buy one somewhere else. There are advantages to both options.

About the only person who isn�t happy about the end of the war is Harry. He�s been running around finishing up the last of his missives, playing war journalist and sending out reports. Even so, his viewership and experience gain has taken quite a hit.

On the other hand, Harry�s reputation has really climbed the news charts. From what I understand, he�s doubled his fan base, and they�re paying into his account just to watch his regular streams. Thankfully, our prior agreement means he doesn�t do live streaming around us�at least not without warning us beforehand.

�Not much longer,� Bolo answers quickly for Mikito, not letting the Samurai answer. I raise an eyebrow because that�s not suspicious at all. �We have it handled. We�re just waiting for the final payment to come through and then we�ll be there.�

�I thought everyone had to deposit the payments before the auction?�

�Normally, that�s the way.� Bolo shrugs, his enchanted emerald scalemail rippling and glinting as he does so. �But I struck us a side deal as well.� When I raise my eyebrow, he grins confidently. �It�s fine, it�s fine. It�ll all be done in the next six hours. Until then, the Gremlins will hold onto the Leviathan corpse.�

�Mikito?�

After glancing at Bolo, Mikito says, �We can handle it. The deal is good.�

�All right then. I might need you guys here sooner rather than later. You mind taking a Portal?�

�Of course not.� Harry speaks up as he wanders into the shot. The British man of African origin flashes me a grin, those pearly white teeth of his still perfectly in place. �We going to Erethra?�

�She is.� I watch the flick of hurt and uncertainty cross Harry�s face before I relent. �Whether you�re coming is up to you. Don�t you have a lot more reporting to do?�

�Eh. I�m a war reporter. Reconstruction is important but rather boring. Anyway, my fans prefer following you around. New worlds, new alien races, more death and destruction. Whatever you�re up to will be a lot more interesting.�

I snort. �I wouldn�t bet on that.�

I doubt the Erethrans will allow him to record the training I�m going to put their people through. And dry politics is rarely riveting.

�I would.� Having said his piece, Harry wanders out of the frame again.

�Anything we need to know?� Bolo speaks up, leaning over Mikito�s shoulder. �The last message you sent, I was expecting to have to break you out of the Empire.�

�Wait, we?� I frown. �You coming?�

�Mmmm� for a fight? Yes. Otherwise, no,� Bolo says. �No offense, Redeemer��

�None taken. You�re welcome to sit it out,� I say. �Mikito, when you arrive, make sure you�re ready to fight.�

***

The next morning, I meet the Paladin initiates in the same square. Privacy curtains are up, ensuring that the ongoings inside the courtyard will not be seen by even those staring out the windows. The Paladin initiates are all standing at attention, waiting for me to say something. I�m just waiting.

Ayuri finally turns up, flanked by her companions. This is the first time I�ve seen them, Unilo and Mayaya, since they yanked me out of my Portal and dumped me here. As usual, Mayaya looks bored with the entire proceedings, the master Portal-maker staring about with a blas� look on his face. Unilo is much more perky, flashing me a smile. I�m a little worried about what she�s got to say to me, considering I owe her a personal debt as well. Somehow, I�m getting the feeling that whatever I bargained for previously has even more implications than I had considered.

That�s part of the reason why Ali isn�t here with me right now. I sent him off to go chat with the rest of the companions and AIs. One thing you have to say about the Galactics. While familiars, companions, and AIs aren�t open to everyone, they are quite common. And that commonality has created a whole subculture that�s hidden from us System-users.

More than once, we�ve used that subculture to our advantage. You�d be surprised how few people treat their companions well. With the wide variety of social classes and individuals involved, and the System-enforced loyalty�slavery in other words�it seems to make people think that they can do what they want.

�Champion,� I greet Ayuri as she comes to a stop next to me.

�Paladin.�

�That�s Grand Champion,� Unilo pipes up with a twinkle in her eyes.

�It�s fine, the Redeemer is known for his lack of courtesy.� Ayuri�s lips widen in a smile. �In fact, a subsection of his historical predecessors were known for being extremely rude. So he could be said to be following tradition.�

�Funny.� I glance at the clock in the corner of my vision and sigh. I still have another five minutes to wait before it�s time. We could potentially open up early but the�

You know what, I really don�t want to do small talk.

�Can you open the Portal?� I ask Mayaya.

Of course, he looks at Ayuri for confirmation.

�Redeemer, you do realize there are numerous restrictions involved in using the Portal between worlds? Teleportation and other mass transit, mass movement spells and Skills are a strategic threat. Receiving the right to make such Portals through our defenses is an involved process and requires significant planning,� Ayuri says.

�That a no?�

�Yes, you dungeon-born, uncivilized, System-deficient cretin. That�s a no,� Mayaya snaps at me, which makes me chuckle.

�You know, this is probably the first time I�ve ever seen you react. For anything. That includes the time we almost had those monsters eat your face.�

This time, Mayaya doesn�t rise to the provocation. In fact, his face slips back into that blas� look. I make note of it, how Portal-making and its attendant bureaucracy is his sticking point.

Unfortunately, that leaves me with another four minutes or so to wait. While doing so, I regard the waiting Paladin initiates. They�re all standing silently, faces carefully tended to ensure that not a single inch of alien feeling shows through. Even the ones who have tails�or in the Roach�s case, wings�are careful to keep them from moving. Which the Galactic body language download tells me is unusual. It�s a level of control that�s uncommon and speaks more of focused attention than it does of relaxation.

�All right. I guess I should tell you why I called you all here.� I regard the group, waiting to see if there�s any reaction to those words. Of course there�s not. �Today, I�m going to show you exactly how far you all are from being viable Paladin initiates.�

That triggers a reaction. Especially from Magine and Ropo. The others are less blatant about their surprise, and in Gheisnan�s case, something tells me he expected me to do this. If so, maybe his Skill set isn�t completely worthless.

After that, I let them stew in silence until time runs out. Mayaya doesn�t bother to ask my permission, just glances over to confirm with Ayuri before he snaps open the Portal. It�s a black void in space, a circular oval that consumes all light entering it. It�s not very big, about ten feet tall and five feet wide. What it is is more than big enough for those who come through.

I can�t help but grin. This should be fun.

Chapter 5

The first to come out, to my surprise, is Bolo. For all his protestations and the friendship we struck up, he has a life on Spaks. I�m not sure why he�d travel across the galaxy to join us. But it�s not the time to question him.

The Dragon Lord is standing tall today, all of his nine feet stretched to the limit, his hammer held idly and blocking the majority of his torso as he strides out of the Portal. It makes little sense for a hammer to be that big in real life�except, of course, for System shenanigans.

Because of the System, Bolo has the strength to wield a ten-foot hammer and, I�ll admit, the larger surface area makes it much harder to dodge. In any sensible, physics-laden universe, wielding a weapon as big and heavy as that would make no sense. Luckily, the ability to alter our Strength and the strength of the molecular bonds of our surroundings make swinging weapons like that viable, without boring physics causing problems.

His scalemail glints in the sunlight, its emerald-green shade darkening under the slightly pinkish hue of the sky. That the sky isn�t the usual blue�or gray, if you live in Vancouver�is due to the different particulate matter on Erethra. The science behind it is out of my scope of learning, though it does mean that their animals and other flora and fauna are more vibrant in coloring. Also, Ali has pointed out that the native animals have a tendency to see in infrared as well.

Once Bolo has cleared the Portal, Harry strolls in, clad in Adventurer chic�an armored jumpsuit with strapping for weapons and equipment�with bright yellow markings instead of the duller colors favored by true Adventurers. As usual, upon entering a new location that might be of interest to his viewers, he has his hands spread out on either side, his fingers split apart in an L shape, holding up invisible camera lenses and recording. He swings his hands one way and another and freezes. A moment later, he curses.

�No recording in the training areas. Or palace grounds,� Mayaya snaps at Harry. Mayaya continues a moment later. �Delete your current files. You also need to receive a full press review.�

�Even if he isn�t recording?� I ask.

�Yes. Many of these journalists, these news junkies, can extract memories to create recordings. None with any great fidelity as compared to an actual recording, but still salable.� Mayaya shakes his head and spits. �We do not allow just anyone to walk around in our government locations. And we require them to all sign the necessary documentation and promises.�

I frown, considering whether or not I should override Mayaya. I adjust my mental notes too, from stickler with Portal bureaucracy to just bureaucracy. Prodding him would be amusing, but it also could cause more trouble than it would be worth. My theoretical rank doesn�t necessarily extend to my friends. It doesn�t do Harry any good if I let him record and then have the Erethrans assassinate him later.

�It�s fine, John. The Erethrans are more into military announcements and public distribution of information from qualified sources. I�m sure, once I get my clearance, I can produce work that Galactics will actually want to watch,� Harry calls as he keeps walking to me, his hands down by his sides. He flashes the trio of Erethrans a grin as he slides in his own dig.

Behind the journalist comes Mikito. The samurai has her polearm at the ready, the heritage weapon masquerading as a soulbound tool. She�s armed and armored in a space-age battle suit, a transforming mecha with compressed layers of metal and built-in weaponry. It�s an upgrade to her old mecha, a new addition to her wardrobe. Even as it covers her form, it�s not too bulky, barely a few inches more across her entire form. On top of the mechasuit, she can throw up her ghost armor Skill, giving her full protection when needed. That�s down for now though.

The Portal stays open for a second longer before Mayaya, seeing no one else entering, speaks to Mikito.

�I was told to expect four.�

�Donalar is staying behind. He wants his ship built to his specifications. We left him grumbling about dockworkers and cost-cutting,� Mikito says.

In reply, Mayaya snaps shut the Portal.

While my friends make their way over, I note how the Paladin initiates stare at them, some with open curiosity, some with rising dread as they puzzle out what I�m planning. Some�like Magine�just look unimpressed.

�I�m glad you�re here,� I say to my friends, returning handshakes and fist bumps. �So who wants to be first?�

Bolo doesn�t even hesitate, pointing. �I�ll just take that corner, shall I?�

�All right, ladies and gentlemen. As you probably guessed, today�s a beatdown day. We�ll start it easy. Two of you can play with Bolo over there. I recommend you pick the two best you have. And don�t worry, I told Bolo not to kill you.�

The words make them bristle for the most part�all but the Pooskeen, who shrinks backward. He�s obviously not interested in having a big, strong Dragon Lord pound him into the dirt. Quite literally.

The first to volunteer is Magine, the dueling maniac. Freif joins him after glancing at the group. It�s not a bad team-up, considering Freif will need to hide behind and set up if he wants to take out Bolo. Unfortunately, the flat arena won�t do him any real good. That�s no way to hide, to back off and open fire on the Dragon Lord. It�s not the ideal environment for the marksman and I�m sure he�ll complain about it later.

The pair set up as I expect them to. Magine stands before Bolo, weapons held down and to the side, a short dueling sword in each hand. These aren�t big honking pieces of steel or even the curved elegance of a katana. No, these are dueling swords, tiny weapons about four feet long with a blade that�s maybe a millimeter in diameter. The blade itself appears from a hitless basket guard, formed of Mana and a thin extrusion of metal. Instead of a single flat edge, they�re an irregular triangle of blade edges, with diamond-tipped edges to increase cutting area. On top of that, low-level energy projections erupt from the blade edges, giving the weapon a monofilament edge.

That Magine wields two at once, and with the lightness of the weapons, means he�ll be attacking faster than Bolo. Theoretically.

Freif stands behind Magine, at the far edges of the courtyard. This leaves Freif little space to retreat, but Magine is ready to intercept Bolo. Unlike his melee-wielding partner, Freif is hauling around a sniper rifle that�s nearly as big as he is. System physics means that he can carry it without a problem, though he has additional braces emerging from his armored body, along with force-projected stabilizers, that help anchor the sniper rifle to himself and the ground.

All the while, as they set up, Bolo stands there, leaning on the shaft of his hammer, waiting with a smirk. �You want me to beat them, correct? With flair?�

I glance at the party chat that Bolo sends his notice to us from and keep my face still as I reply. �No deaths. Feel free to cripple. Heck, that�d be preferable.�

�Not very nice of you,� Harry sends.

�Good training.� That�s from Mikito, the samurai eyeing not the fighters who are stepping out to deal with Bolo but the rest of the group who hasn�t. She�ll be taking her turn soon after. And unlike Bolo, she�ll take this seriously.

�Whatever. I�ve been itching to hit someone,� Bolo sends his reply.

�You intend to signal the start?� Ayuri says, gesturing out to where the opponents wait.

�Nope. When they�re ready, they can start,� I reply idly.

As if he was waiting for me to say that, Magine launches himself at Bolo. He crosses the twenty feet between them in a flicker of blurred cloth and steel, Haste already turned on. He�s fast. Faster than me, I�d say. Agility focused, but with significantly less Health.

Rather than pick up his hammer, Bolo reacts by punching. He�s moving so fast, everyone is moving so fast, that I�m not even sure the Paladin initiates spot the slight deviation Bolo makes while punching. A deviation necessary to take in account Magine�s dodge. One moment, Magine is a blur approaching Bolo. The next, he�s being punched in the face, that fraction of a second when his momentum is canceled like a photograph in our minds. His face, crumpled, a blade sunk into Bolo�s arm half a foot deep. And then, of course, momentum takes over and Magine is flying backward nearly as far as he was charging, tumbling head over heels.

A crack, the noise from the projectile thrown down field as it crushes the sound barrier, informs us that Freif is joining the battle. Freif reacted as fast as Magine, but they�re all moving so fast, the crack only arrives a fraction of a second before the noise of Magine�s own breach of the sound barrier.

The projectile lands on Bolo�s chest, just slightly off center and at an angle, shattering on the scalemail and showering the ground with shards. Bolo�s enchanted armor doesn�t even scar.

Neither of the initiates take their failures lying down. Magine is already bouncing to his feet and charging into the fray, blood streaming from a broken nose, swelling already forming on his face. He circles sideways, making sure to give Freif a clear line of vision. He�s learned his lesson, circling rather than doing a straight, face-first challenge. Freif is reloading, taking his time as he pumps Mana into his next Skill attack. No hasty shots here.

And Bolo? He�s grinning.

What happens in the next few minutes is a massacre. Bolo never even bothers to pick up his hammer. Instead, he alternately punches, kicks, and in the end�while holding Magine�s hands apart�head butts his opponent into submission.

As for Freif, even after conjuring weaponry all around the arena to increase his damage and slow down Bolo, he fails to do much to the Dragon Lord. After the first shot, Bolo dodges. His movements are almost languid, but he shrugs off, disperses, and dodges the vast majority of Freif�s major attacks. The rest of the drones and automated weaponry, Bolo ignores.

When the Dragon Lord is finally done with Magine, he slowly stalks over to Freif, dismissing or plowing through the mines, chaos grenades, smoke particles, and illusions to grab hold of his opponent. Then he throws the Erethran sniper to the ground and stomps on him. Even from where I am, I hear the snap, crackle, and pop as pelvis, hips, and fingers are destroyed.

�I think that�s enough.�

Bolo grins, looking up, and kicks Freif over to the edge of the arena. The duelist staggers back to his feet, battle recovery and stubbornness getting him up, but he�s swaying, his reconjured swords in hand.

�I think we�ll do three next,� I say to the Honor Guards, some of whom are quite, quite angry.

Not scared though. Not worried. Not even surprised. Just angry. They don�t show it much in their faces, but I�ve been observing them for hours, watching their combat videos, their training logs, and eyeballing them during our interviews. I�ve begun to put together a picture in my head, build a baseline.

They�re angry, but not scared or worried. I think that says something about the kind of training they�ve received. And, I have to admit, I wonder if what I�m doing will even drive home the point I intend. Who knows, maybe getting their asses kicked by a higher Class opponent is a common thing in their training. Memory returns, informing me that that�s true; but sometimes, lessons have to be relearned.

***

Bolo trashes the next three with as much ease as the first group. It doesn�t help that their best fighters grouped up to begin with. When I make it four, Magine and Freif join up again. I almost want to comment about them being masochists, but I restrain myself.

Guns fire, spells flash, and for the first time, I get to see what Gheisnan brings to the table. Freif stays close, laying out mines and drones to protect the Pooskeen. Magine and Kino confront Bolo directly. Together, the pair of Honor Guards are strong enough that they make Bolo pick up his hammer and wield it, battering the pair around even through their blocks.

That�s what the Shaman brings. He ties in everyone, what the others are seeing, hearing, and sensing. He layers in his own understanding, his own predictions of what Bolo will do, and so, he coordinates the offense. It puts Bolo on the defensive for a few minutes, wears down his Mana and health while the Dragon Lord gets his footing in the new battlescape. It�s a good showing.

It�s not enough.

No matter how good you are at seeing the future, at predicting your opponent, it�s useless if you can�t stop them. My own proof of that is my last fight with a Master Class speedster. In Bolo�s case, when he gets serious, he smashes apart the defenses of the Honor Guards. Perfect blocks divert some of the energy, but not enough. Soul Shields absorb, flash, and shatter in single swings. Kino falls first, then Magine. After that, it�s just mop up.

When the fight is over, I gather them all again.

�Well, that went about as well as I expected. What did you all think?� I speak casually, in contrast to the orders that they�re probably used to.

�Permission to speak freely, sir,� says Ropo.

I eye the dwarf, remembering how he ate one of Bolo�s strikes, the way it sank him all the way to his chin before he threw himself out of the ground. Stubborn, good fighter. His Poisoning Skills helped to add a damage over time attack to his own efforts and his friends�. Even if he mostly concentrated on defense in this fight, he was useful. Too bad Bolo�s base recovery levels and resistances overrode his efforts.

I nod. �We might as well make this clear. You all have the right to speak freely to me at any time, any place you want. If I don�t like what you say, I�ll let you know. In a very direct manner.� I flash them a wide grin at that.

�Then you�re a poison-swilling fool. There�s no way an Advanced Classer, capped or not, can beat a high level Master Classer. Add the fact that the Dragon Lord is a prestige Master Class, geared for fighting alone, and this was a waste of time. We know we can�t beat Master Classers, and if you thought this was a new thing, we might as well drink a Thrice-Croaked potion,� Ropo says with tension high in his voice, his jaw jutting out.

�And why is that?� I say.

�Because, you towering, infected donkey�s penis, we are Honor Guard. We�re trained to fight Master Classers, either alone or in teams, the moment we were recruited. There�s no point to this. We know how to fight and survive. But there�s never a winning scenario, not against him.� Another jerk of his bearded chin takes in Bolo.

�And is that what you all think?� When my question to the group meets sullen silence, I get my answer. I turn to Mikito next. �How many do you want?�

The samurai glances over the group, taps her lips, then calls out, �One on one.� Then she walks over to the corner that Bolo had started all his fights from.

�All right. You heard the lady. Line up and get your asses kicked.�

While Ropo grumbles and moves to face off against Mikito, Ayuri sniffs and turns on her heels. She stops, calling out to me when she�s halfway to the exit. �Paladin. I want a word with you.�

I note the glances the initiates shoot at me. They�re probably speculating that I�m going to be told off by Mommy. As I join the Champion, I toss behind me a drone so that I can continue watching. I�m not worried about my conversation with her, for I have a plan.

I just don�t know if it�s a good one yet.

***

�What are you doing?� Ayuri says, once we�re away from the playground and out of earshot.

�Making a point.� I flick a glance back to where Mikito is getting them sorted out. I split my concentration between the drone I left behind and Ayuri.

�And what kind of point is that?�

�Well, that depends on who we�re talking about. Freif is a great sniper, but even with all the points he�s put into his Skills, he can�t really hit a Master Class like Bolo. And when Mikito has him alone, she�ll still beat him like the redheaded stepchild he is.�

�He�s not a redhead. He is a stepchild, but that has no legal standing,� Unilo says, looking a little confused.

�Earth culture. You should read the books,� I say. �Real mainstay of Canadian culture.�

Ayuri ignores my nonsensical remarks while Unilo mouths the word Canadian. �He knows that. He�s a sniper. His job was never to be in the front lines, fighting directly. You�re not teaching him anything he doesn�t know.�

�Maybe he knows it, but you guys obviously don�t. What is he going to do when you make him a Paladin? When his enemies come for him in the middle the night, when he�s all alone and injured, when things are bleak and he hasn�t had time to set himself up for that perfect shot? He�s not a Paladin,� I say.

I wince as I watch Mikito boot Ropo in the nuts. The fact that the dwarf continues coming says a lot about his stubbornness and his innate resistances. The fact that he�s tried to use a bunch of poison gasses and weapons is an interesting new addition to his fighting technique. Not that it helps.

�Freif�s just a target waiting to be ended.�

�He�s not you, Redeemer. We will provide security and teams for all of our Paladins,� Ayuri says.

�And that�s where your next mistake comes. We don�t work for you, or your military, or even the Queen. Whatever teams you put together, the Paladins will have to trust them with their lives and more. They have to trust the team to be loyal. To let them, as a Paladin, do whatever the heck they think is right,� I say. �If they decided to kill your Queen, would the groups you create follow them?�

I snort when Mayaya stirs and Unilo frowns. Ayuri�s the only one who doesn�t react to my almost treacherous words.

�Any group you create for them will be a compromise,� I say. �That won�t work.�

Ayuri shakes her head, dismissing my words. �We�re not looking to create another group of insurrectionists. We don�t intend to have a repeat of the War of the Seven Systems.�

�Then you�ve got the wrong people. And I won�t give them my approval.�

And finally, finally, Ayuri reacts. She steps close, looms over my shorter form, and stares me down. Her aura turns on, and I don�t know if it�s conscious or not. The pressure she exerts is much, much stronger than nearly any aura I�ve ever felt. Only the Queen and the Librarian were stronger. It�s as though the weight of an entire star system is behind it, the regard of the population of an entire empire and their favor bearing down on me.

I stay upright and keep my face impassive under the building pressure. But as is my way, as she crushes me with her aura, I reach for that kernel of anger within me, that raging ocean that never seems to end. Pain, never resolved, turned into anger and passion. I use it the same way I always use it, and it reinforces my backbone.

Eyes narrowed a little, I snap back. �Drop it. You wanted a Paladin. You have one. You can�t intimidate me, Champion.�

�Maybe we�ll just try again. With someone a little more agreeable,� Ayuri snaps, fists clenched at her sides.

I note that the other two members of her group have moved to flank me. Mayaya is probably ready to open a Portal and shut it with me halfway through. Unilo�well, I�m not sure of her plans. Probably something involving that spear she wields.

�You mean like the two dozen guards you sent before me?� I watch Ayuri�s eyes widen, watch as she realizes I�m not as oblivious as I�ve played. I know more than she thinks about what that planet once was. Of the layers of pain it contains. �I know about them. I know about all the failures, everyone you sent to the Forbidden Planet in search of Suhargur. Every single failure. All the rejected ones. I am literally your best option. Now get out of my way and let me do my job. Let me let you get a Paladin.�

Ayuri continues to stare at me, never releasing the aura that makes the space around us warp. In the corner of my eyes, I spot the way the hallway itself twists, buckles. I meet her gaze even as notifications of the aura being resisted ping off a corner of my vision. She stares and stares, her gaze turning inquisitive after a while, searching my own eyes for something. And then�

She laughs.

The aura disappears as quickly as it arrived, allowing me to roll my shoulders as the metaphorical weight vanishes. All the while, Ayuri laughs and laughs. She claps me on the side of my shoulder, the impact making me stagger. I�m sure I�m going to get a bruise from it.

�Good. Don�t let anyone, anything intimidate you, Paladin.�

�So. Was that all a test?� I�m getting a bit whiplashed from the way that she�s been treating me. Telling me that the Paladins are our own players, then trying to make me do things her way.

�Weren�t you testing me as well?� Ayuri says, a smile still on her face.

I shrug. Still chuckling, Ayuri slaps me on the shoulder again and walks off with her friends. I watch her back as she goes, then finally turn around and head for the training grounds.

I�m still not sure who came out that interaction better off. But my head is still on my shoulders, so I�ll take it as a win.

***

Mikito�s fights afterward are a letdown. After the bone-crushing, shattering, explosive sonic attacks of Bolo, hers are just boring. She restrains her Skills and attributes, fighting at the same level as the Advanced Classers. Matching them, as best as one can, in terms of skill and strength.

She still wins.

Compared to the triumphant thrashing of the guards before, Mikito�s restrained victories seem to have a deeper effect on the morale of the group. Even if she is a Master Class, the fact that she�s not using her higher-level Skills is telling. It�s a lot harder for them to discount her ability when she�s not triggering and using Skills that give her an insane advantage.

The fight with the Roach is a great example. Smo�kana has the height advantage, able to swoop down, attack, and retreat as his wings deploy. They allow him to hold in place or swoop away with equal ease. The roach wields a pair of blaster pistols in his first set of hands and a pair of cutlasses in the second.

Mikito doesn�t hold still though, constantly shifting her position as she picks her attacks with her weapon. The ghostly armor deflects the occasional beam blasts that S�mo�kana releases against her, but for the most part, the roach darts in to do battle with his swords. It�s no surprise, since even with Skills, beam weaponry doesn�t transfer the attribute bonuses of Strength and Skills as well.

Not unless you specialize. And the Roach is a generalist.

Under her Haste Skill, Mikito darts back and forth, lashing out with her naginata whenever he comes close. At first, the fight looks to be at stalemate, with Mikito never doing enough damage nor the Roach able to hit her. But on the tenth swoop, Mikito jerks her hand toward herself and hidden gravity mines trigger.

They yank Smo�kana down, forcing him to the ground as he suddenly weighs much more than his wings can handle. Even if he could adjust his weight, the strength of his wings, and his attributes to make it viable to fly again, he never gets a chance. A series of quick strikes rips off portions of his wings, takes a hand, and ends up with the naginata placed against the center of his torso. As quickly as that, even as the dust from his constant flying around is still settling, the fight is over.

Mikito swings the naginata to the side, discarding the brownish blood with a flick before she steps back to her original starting point. She settles in, ready for the next fighter. Gheisnan glowers and growls, the next in line, but he still approaches. Knowing that the beating he�ll receive isn�t something he can avoid.

As the Roach crawls out of the way, the other recruits take care of him, casting healing and regenerative spells, fixing broken bits. The Erethran Honor Guard Skill means that his limbs will reappear in time, but the additional magic helps speed up the entire process. Otherwise, he�d be down and out for next day while he rebuilds his limbs. Too long.

When it�s all done, when Mikito has torn through the entire group, when she�s bruised and bloodied and content, I walk back out and regain their attention.

�Well. That was enlightening.� I let my gaze run over the group, idly noting how some of their clothing has already patched itself up. Nanowoven protection combined with organic growing threads, all of it stitched together with high density metals and other Artisan Skills. I�ve even heard of clothing that will regenerate from a fist-sized piece. �Anyone care to tell me what they learned?�

�She�s a sadistic little oxygen-breather. And he�s a battle-crazed Hakarta,� Anayton says.

�Not true and true.� I swing my finger around and around, gesturing for them to keep going. When she doesn�t answer my body language, I use my words. �Go on.�

Anayton crosses her arms. �And you have no idea what you�re doing.�

�Very true. Anyone else have anything else to add?�

�You want us to beat them. One on one. And if we don�t, you�re not going to give us your approval,� Magine says while fixing his gaze on Mikito.

Magine was the last one to fight, and the closest to come to winning against her. He�s fast, focusing more on speed and precision than strength. He doesn�t have a legacy weapon, but he uses his soulbound weapons in the same appearing and disappearing technique that the Honor Guard is known for. That he combines the style with both hands filled with soulbound blades and the multiple additional blades of Thousand Blades creates a blizzard of floating weaponry.

He�s better at the Honor Guard�s blade dance than I am, but Mikito has been training with me for years now, and the style is no longer new and interesting. He might do the Erethran sword style better, but better isn�t enough of an edge. Not when he doesn�t know her style, her way of fighting. And really, her weapon�s a lot better than his.

Not that we�re going to tell them that.

�Wrong.� I look around, waiting for someone else to speak.

�You wanted to see if all those recordings were true.� Kino, the big rock creature, rumbles. His fight with Mikito was quite one-sided. He�s too slow to land any attacks on her, but he�s also highly defensive. If not for Mikito cheating with her weapon, it probably would have been a draw. As it was, the added damage from Hitoshi was enough to level the playing field and allow her to down the tough tank.

�Correct. Next?�

�You�ve already made up your mind, so why are you dragging this out?� Gheisnan calls, the little kobold glaring at me. I wonder if he thinks that he�s on the chopping block.

He is, just not today.

�Fair. Smo. Pack up your things. You�re done.�

I watch the Roach buzz, wings flaring and folding, insect-like hands twitching in agitation. He takes a step and another away as commanded before he spins around and looks at me. When he speaks, that harsh, painful-to-the-ears buzz of his voice catches me. �Why? Failed Brood. Why?�

�Because you�re looking to be eaten. I�m not looking for Paladins who are looking to die. That�s not our job. As an old Earther once said, your job isn�t to die for your Empire but to make the enemy die for his.� I look around at the group, meeting the defiant gazes of the initiates. �I don�t need heroics from all of you. I just need you all to survive. Your Empire needs you all to survive. You want to know the lesson? It�s simple. Get back up. And keep going. No matter what.� I let that stupid, idiotic, passe sentence die its ignominious death in the dirt of the courtyard. �Or else in about another ten years, I�ll be back here, doing this all over again with a whole new batch of idiots.�

Smo twitches and buzzes, moving back and forth on its legs agitatedly, its wings flaring so much so that it hovers in place. In the end, it flies away down the corridor. Hopefully he knows where to report in. But I don�t really care. I dismiss him and his future from my mind, focusing on the others.

�Homework for all of you. Go over your Skills, your build. Figure out what you�re missing. Figure out what you need to do to fix it. Then come to me with a plan. You�re not fighting in teams anymore. You�re not one of many. You�re single fighters. Single survivors. Figure out how to make it work.� I pause, then gesture at them to disperse. �I�ll see you tomorrow.�

As they walk away, leaving at my command, I watch them through the security cameras and drones scattered through the building. Watch to see how they took the news.

Ropo, Gheisnan, and Kino look unperturbed. Magine smirks, as if he expected no more from someone like Smo�kana. Freif is still casting glances at Mikito and her weapon, as if she�s more important than anything that has to do with the selection process. As if he might suspect something. As for Anayton, the female Erethran looks concerned.

And just like that, my first day with the initiates is over.

Chapter 6

Of course, that�s not the end of my day. I drag my team along, heading to my temporary residence. It�s a bit of a trek, since they don�t allow us to Portal around wherever we want. The entire planet is secured by spatial locks, Portals and quick spatial movement accessible only to a select membership. Most of them in the Honor Guard. It says something about my status that I�m not automatically approved to jump about wherever I want. I could probably push it and get myself approved, but I�ve got bigger fish to fry. Still, it�s on the to-do list.

I�m lodging off-site, not near the palace residence but still on state grounds. Just not palace grounds, if that makes sense. In fact, rather than being set up in the barracks rooms or anything like that, I�ve been given a small mansion to call my own.

I designate rooms for my friends within, making the echoing and empty building a little livelier. When I first arrived, the mansion had been colored in salmon pink with purple edging and a noveau gothic design with weird Erethran gargoyles covering the entirety. I changed that to a calming sky blue and cream edging for the walls but left the gargoyles. Partly because some of them were mechanical golems. The walls adjust with the barest of mental nudges, all controlled by the building�s System interface.

Of course, appearances aren�t the only thing I�m given access to. The entire building�s defense grid, the alarm systems, even the room configurations are all available at the touch of a finger. Included as well are the expansive grounds, which I can landscape to my heart�s content�or adjust the emplacement of the various anti-aircraft artillery. I ignore most of it, beyond verifying the multiple escape routes built into the residence and double-checking the defense grid settings.

Once we�re in the office, a minimalistic room with liquid-metal furnishings, we grab seats and I send the robots to get us snacks.

For the next few hours, we catch up. The team informs me of the deal they made, gloss over the problems they caused and the need for Bolo�s appearance. What little I glean indicates that Bolo�s side deal ended up causing more trouble than he expected. They did let slip that they�d managed to annoy one of the Station Masters in the first ring. Staying in Spaks was no longer an option for the Dragon Lord, not after that.

�So why join us?� I ask. After all, just because he had to leave doesn�t mean he had to choose us.

�We worked well together. It is rare for three Master Classers to still work together at this stage of their development,� Bolo says, crossing his arms. �Most bounty hunters will stay away from such a team.�

Not entirely sure he�s correct about that, since I recall quite a few Master Class teams. But there might be a matter of selection bias in my recollections. I only meet Master Class teams because I run in a team. Statistically, Bolo might be right�and my memories from the library seem to agree�but this is one of those cases where statistics gets beaten by lived experience. Often at the edge of a very pointed bat.

�You know, being your shield is getting really tiring,� I grumble.

�Don�t act as if you�re not getting something out of it. Like an example of what a real Master Classer can do for your initiates,� Bolo says.

I grin guiltily, having been caught out. Bolo really was the best example for them to fight. But more importantly� �I want your thoughts on them. What do they need to fix?�

�Assuming they�re fighting alone?� Bolo says, then at my confirmation, runs a hand along one arm, humming in thought. �There�re a few things that come to mind��

I lean forward, listening. Mikito eventually interjects, adding her own analysis. The conversation runs through the strengths of each Honor Guard. Truth be told, many of them are similar, so the adjustments are a matter of personality and attribute fit. Eventually, we sit back, waving at the detailed notes I�ve taken.

�Why ask us though? I�d think an Empire like this has their own Class specialists,� Bolo says.

�They do. I�ve requested reviews for them all.� I flick my fingers and new documentation windows appear, floating in front of the pair. Harry�s still off, doing his thing. This kind of conversation isn�t his thing, for obvious reasons. �They�ve even taken into account my own notes from yesterday, for their analysis.�

The pair falls silent as they read over the recommendations. I�d let the Class specialists run wild, make the most optimal builds.

�And you think they�ll let the initiates buy all that? That�s quite a bit of spending,� Bolo says, not without a little envy.

�They�re an Empire,� I say with a sniff. �I doubt it�s more than a drop in the bucket. The trick will be training them to use the new Skills properly.�

�That sounds reasonable. It certainly won�t hurt, even if they reject your budget,� Mikito says, turning the teacup that she�s extracted from her inventory round and round in hand.

I look closer at the gently graded teacup, smiling slightly at the description.

Fujiwara Ever Warm Teacup

The latest work by the famous potter, this teacup is guaranteed to keep tea warmed to the perfect temperature without affecting its taste. Both a work of art and a practical piece, the teacup is one of the first vaguely acceptable creations by the master potter to be sold.

Dismissing the message, I pick at the sandwiches that the robots have delivered, asking further questions. Catching up on trivial things, on stories about my friends. Harry eventually joins us, freed from the bureaucracy required to get his press pass. But soon enough, I see the restlessness, the exhaustion that creeps up on my friends. Whatever it was that happened in the last day, it�s wiped them. Not physically, but psychologically. There�s a point where healing, the System�s fixing of us, is insufficient. When we just need to stop.

It�s strange really. You can let the System fix your body, fix your mind. You can have it rip out the wounds, the damage you have acquired. You can replenish your health and your Mana. And still feel worn down.

It�s as though the mental and physical are separate from the spiritual.

Sometimes, just sometimes, all you need to do is stop.

Breathe.

And move on.

�Go. Rest. We�ll talk tomorrow. We�re going to have to push them tomorrow. Can�t have you guys falling down and messing with the good impression you made,� I say.

�I am fine,� Bolo says, straightening himself. Glaring at the implication that he�s less than the perfect soldier.

�I�m sure. But I want to think about this a little more,� I say, gesturing at the notification windows that show their recommendations and the Class specialists� that I make reappear. �And you guys are rather noisy.�

Bolo�s lips curl up, but I wave him off. Harry is already half out the door, muttering goodbyes. On the other hand, I�m pretty sure he�ll just go back to his room and work. Even the little glimpse of Erethra he�s achieved is more than most humans would have, and I know he�s got a lot of human fans. Even if that same information is available in the Shop, it�s not from a human point of view, not as seen by one of us. And that makes a difference.

I watch the pair walk off, watch Bolo disappear around the corner of the doorway. But Mikito lingers, carefully packing her teacup in its container before storing it in her Inventory. Carefully cleaning her hands and the table, even though the robot has done it once.

�What�s wrong?� I say.

�My question. Not yours,� Mikito replies, dark eyes narrowing.

I draw a deep breath, looking around the office. I frown, sick of the blue, and shift it to green and increase the lighting, adding a little more UV to the output. Mikito says nothing, waiting with studied patience for me to stop fluffing around.

�I have no idea what I�m doing,� I finally admit.

�What�s new?�

I chuckle. Too true. But� �This is more than me. More than us. It feels like I�m playing a game of blocks, pulling them out with my eyes closed. Do it too fast, tug on the wrong thing, and everything will come down. But there are innocents standing on the blocks. An entire Empire.� I stare at Mikito, showing her a little of the fear I�m trying to keep hidden. �I don�t know what I�m doing.�

�Good.�

�Pardon?� I blurt out.

�Good.� Mikito shrugs. �Then they won�t know what you intend to do.� She gestures around us. �If you don�t know, they won�t either.�

�That�s a good thing?� I say, a little incredulous.

�Can�t be worse than where they�re headed, can it?� Mikito says.

I grunt. Well, thus far� what was it that concerned them? Civil war? If that�s the case, it�s not so bad. Still� �And if I make a mistake?�

�You will.� Mikito shrugs. �You�re human.�

�People will die.�

�They�ll die anyway,� Mikito replies. �But maybe you�ll do good too. Shake things up. Make these Paladins work.�

�You mean restore them to working order?�

Mikito offers a thin-lipped smile, flicking her gaze upward. I remember where we are then reevaluate her words before I sigh.

�I�m going to rest now. You�� She glances at where the notification windows continue to hover before me, then shrugs. �You continue studying.�

I feel a little betrayed at being left alone. Even if I did ask her to do that. Especially after that talk. As she walks out, I return my gaze to the windows. And I can�t help but question the world I�ve been thrown into.

I can almost feel the Empire shifting beneath my feet as I pull up reports. Information I�ve purchased. Recordings from the Erethran news network, the closest thing to their media. I read about the constant wars on the borders, the skirmishes. The protests, the dropping recruitment rates. I read about the loss of more worlds to the Forbidden Zone.

I read. I listen. I learn.

And I remember, what is, is.

***

Ali shows up hours later. One second, he�s gone. The next, he blips into reality next to me, almost making me jump. For the last few hours, I�ve been watching multiple data feeds, official channels and unofficial notes. Things that I only gain access to because of my rank. Dominating one corner of my notifications is the Erethran equivalent of entertainment�the latest, greatest cut of their most recent border skirmish.

More and more, I�m disliking the 300-like world view I�m getting of this society. It�s one thing to read about them, another to be immersed in their culture. Or lack of it. Theoretically, there are multiple news streams�journalists, bloggers, and more�but all of them are heavily censored. Most don�t even need that much censoring, so immersed in the party line that they sing the same praises. Those who don�t drink the Kool-Aid have heavy safeguards in place to keep them from being too critical.

What little criticism there is is carefully contained. To specific programs like waste and �dishonorable� actions. To people who aren�t doing their job to the utmost. So corruption and other mishandling is heavily rooted out by journalists, even if the effects of those reports are often swept under the rug.

Questions about another way of life, of cultural touchstones that might not involve a never-ending expansion, a never-ending empire of Leveling up? Those are pushed aside or only carefully, ever so carefully hinted at.

You�d think it�d be impossible within a world where the Shop exists. But while all information is available for purchase, information can be hidden, suppressed. Skills and just a flood of data hiding the truth. It�s the people with the biggest wallets who win out in such a game. The only way to avoid being caught saying something bad, never being considered a threat, is never to draw attention at all. To watch every purchase, every word you say. To self-censor everywhere but in your own mind.

Even Skills that block out purchases can be overridden with enough money. Add that to the use of Public Relations Consultants, Media Influencers, and Culture Shapers and you get a society that�s not so much evolving as it is shaped. One whose goal is the strengthening and expansion of the Empire.

One that eats its young in a never-ending grind for Levels.

And yet� and yet, I can see why.

Even if the information I�m seeing now is shaped by the movies, by the very Skills I�m whining about, I can�t help but understand it. Six hundred years ago, the slowly growing Erethran Kingdom was attacked. Not by another kingdom, not by a powerful Guild. But by a single man, a high-Level Heroic. Using hit-and-run tactics, he destroyed multiple fleets, wiped out army bases, and the personnel within. And when the kingdom refused to become part of his personal empire, he started going after cities.

For four years, the kingdom was besieged. A once-burgeoning kingdom fell back on itself, people mass transported and put under contract, drawn into major cities for safety or spread out to reduce targets. In that time, their kingdom was reforged. The people grew stronger, tougher. They dedicated themselves to Leveling, to Combat Classes.

The Heroic�whose name is nearly impossible to say but roughly translates to The Heavenly Sky above All Peons�made one mistake. Rather than kill everyone he fought with at each fight, he left a few survivors. Those survivors kept Leveling, kept fighting and growing. New Classes were created�the Champions and the Paladins�as these survivors continued to fight the Heroic and, when they could, Level in hidden dungeons. Finally, finally, they beat him.

Not without deep, heart-rending cost.

That final battle is probably the most recorded / re-recorded / remixed event in the Empire. Like Earth�s D-Day. Over two thousand plays and countless radio shows, movies, experiential downloads, and more. Their third largest city�renamed Sky�s Demise�was destroyed. But they survived.

And grew obsessed. With never letting it ever happen again. And that meant Leveling. Growing stronger, growing their own Heroics.

�But there�s a problem, isn�t there?� I say to Ali as I gesture to the screens.

�Problem?� the Spirit asks as he floats, staring at the movie. �I mean, sure, I can see the bad rendering, but it�s not that bad.�

�In their struggle for Levels. Because we still die. All of us,� I say. �Doesn�t matter if your Queen or Emperor becomes a Heroic. Sooner or later, they die. The one thing the System can�t do is bring back the dead. And age takes us all.�

Oh, higher Constitutions increase lifespans. But it�s not to the extent of eternal life. Even someone who specs entirely for lifespan increases is held back by their initial biology. At most, a maximum increase of ten times seems to be the limit before age catches up. After that, whatever it is the System does breaks down. Obviously certain creatures�certain species�get the better end of the deal, but there seems to be a balancing act in play. Like a drop in fertility, a higher incidence of violence, and increased difficulty in acquiring higher Classes or experience.

�What�s new?� Ali says. �Pretty much every major group does that. Whether it�s a bigger or smaller variation, entire Classes, social structures, and groups push for better Classes, higher tiers. Some are just less�� Ali pauses, searching for the word. �Obvious.�

�Yeah. The tyranny of Levels.� I shake my head. I can see how it affected Earth and me too. All of us surging upward to get as many Levels, as many Classes as possible. Because anything else was a failure, anything else left us vulnerable. �The failure of the System.�

And I don�t need my own memories to tell me that this is all too common. Dungeon World, rim world, or core world, it�s the same. Levels are all.

�Or success,� Ali says, gesturing around. �All of this, these technological advances, the way people can progress, that�s the System too. You just need the chance to fight�and the Erethrans give it to all�and you can progress. Hell, if you don�t want to fight, you can be an Artisan. And they provide for those too.�

I grunt. That too is true. For Erethrans, schooling is paid for, including training and dungeon entries. The best, the most gifted, the most driven are allowed to take additional classes, acquire additional material, enter higher Leveled dungeons or the same more often. All to improve, to push for more, better Classes. Of course, the Artisans are �requested� to focus on Combat support Classes. Leaving out those who just want to be artists, just want to entertain or live a quiet life.

�Still messed up.�

�But that�s not what we�re here for, right?� Ali says.

�No. We�re here because they want us to�� I shut up when Ali points upward. I grunt. Of course we�re being watched. Not much more I can say. Even the stuff I have on me�the Skills active, the new and better enchantments�can be beaten. �Get them new Paladins. So tell me about them. Tell me about the Empire they�re going to have to fix.�

Ali grins and floats down. �All right. As you guessed, there are more than a few who will be upset with you. Let�s start with Brerdain Ramanner, Chief of the General Staff.� When I frown, Ali adds, �That�s second-in-command of the regular armed forces�the army basically. Above him is the Minister of Defense, whose serves at the Queen�s pleasure.�

A twitch of his fingers makes Brerdain�s information pop up. Brerdain�s in full silhouette, both his known attributes and Skills as well as his Status information displayed in the hovering notification window. I�m amused to see he�s a little portly around the middle�just a little pudge, not a lot�and there�s some flaking around the horns that can be spotted even in the picture. He�s old. Not as old as the Queen, but maybe a couple of decades younger as far as I can tell. Other than his age and dad bod, he could be any other high-ranking, uniformed thug, so boring is his face.

Brerdain Ramanner, Chief of the General Staff of Erethra, Commander of the Eight Fleet, Victor of the Prasat Battle, Umnak Clash,�; Slayer of Goblins, Hakarta, Movanna, Truinnar, Lurkers,�, more� (Erethran General Level 50)

HP: 2140/2140

MP: 4280/4280

Conditions: Aura of Command, Command Experience, Strength from Above, Greater Attitude Adjustment, National Security Interest

�What Skills do the Generals get anyway?� I ask, eying the Conditions section. Most of those Skills are new to me, beyond the Aura of Command. I feel pressure from the library insisting on giving me the information, but I push it back. I�m too tired to deal with the flood of information.

�Mass buffs. Generally extends to those within the ranks. Much like many Queens, Kings, Lords, and the like. Whenever there�s a person in power, those kinds of Skills show up,� Ali says. �On the personal side of the equation, they generally lean toward either early attribute gains at the Basic Level or at the Master Level, defense and escape Skills.�

�Really? How come I�ve never run into them?� I say.

�Mostly? Because you suck at being part of groups,� Ali says. �Heck, you even declined to join that Guild full-time, remember? Guilds generally provide such buffs too, just at a lower level. Or more widespread. Also, you never dig into your stats. Here.�

A flicker of light and a new screen appears, one that I haven�t seen before.

Current Experience Modifiers

Grouped Experience Modifier -16% (Variable)

Erethran Empire Citizen Modifier (+0.000004%)

Erethran Armed Forces Modifier (+0.00000023%)

�Huh. Why the negative on the group?� I say. �That�s not normal, is it?�

�Nah, that�s �cause you�re being power-Leveled by Bolo and Mikito.�

I frown before I get it. The same reason my Monster Slayer Title gives me extra damage even against same-Level monsters is why I�m getting negative modifiers. As far as the System is concerned, I�m still on my second tier�Advanced�even if I have a Master Class. But since I�ve got both Bolo and Mikito in my team now, I�m getting negative modifiers. I bet Harry does too�if he gets any real experience from combat. His War Reporter Class is weird.

�Seems like a tiny amount for these experience increases. And only two?� I say.

�Small individually. But the Queen�s works on every single citizen, no matter their Class. And the military modifier is because you�re too high up to be affected by anything other than the Queen and the Minister of Defense.� Ali gestures and a new screen shows up�one for Ropo. There�s a much, much larger list of modifiers involved there. Every single commanding officer of his has a Skill that gives him an experience boost, and on top of that, I note a couple of Clan-based Skills adding to his experience. �That�s what they got before they transferred over.�

�So about four to five percent total.� I eyeball the numbers. �Still not a lot.�

�For every fight and every time they increase their XP? Over the entire year and across the entire army or Empire?� Ali points out. �It adds up.�

�I guess.� A buff is a buff. And I can see how having a large army would add to the strength of these Skills. Makes me wonder though. �But this is more a quantity over quality thing, isn�t it?�

�That�s the Erethrans for you. Bolo�s people do the opposite. They�ve got dedicated Skills to buff up individuals. Mentor-mentee relationships are much more important there and give higher individual boosts. Mentors also get a boost, both in status and on their sheet. Obviously, it can�t be used for as many,� Ali says. �They�ve even got Skills that give more experience back to themselves the higher Level their mentees get.�

�Is that why�� I gesture out the door.

�Why Bolo�s persona non grata with his people? Yeah. Exile is nasty, for both the mentor and mentee,� Ali replies.

�Huh.� I fall silent, wondering once again about Bolo�s background. I could find out so easily, but� there are some things you don�t do, not to friends. Or allies.

I can�t help but wonder how Earth intends to build its relationships, how it intends to grow. Knowing us, we�ll probably end up with a mixture of options, depending on the various cultures and groups. I�m sure if I dug into it, I�d find specialist�s groups�even more specialized than the Erethran Honor Guards�who might do the same as the Dragon Knights. It�s not as if Erethra�s a monoculture. Those don�t really exist, outside of lazy scifi writing and a few hive minds. �I think we got a little side-tracked.�

�You did.�

I bite my lip and gesture at Brerdain�s information. �Why him? And what�s with his Level?�

�Well, if you�d let me finish without interrupting, I could explain.� When I glare at Ali, the Spirit chuckles. �Brerdain�s the leading contender among the regular armed forces to be the next in line. He�s got the backing of quite a few of the Generals�as much as that matters, which is a lot�but the Queen doesn�t like him, if rumors are true. He�s more of a hard-line hawk, wanting to get the Empire mixed up in even more fights. His age is a major negative as well.� A flicker of light and the notification highlights his Level. �He�s stayed stuck at Level 50 for the last few years, waiting for the Queen to die. That�s gotten him quite a bit of goodwill, since he�s �banking� all that accumulated experience. It�ll make him Leveling the King Class much faster than any of his opponents, and that�s made quite a few people happy.�

I grunt. �What�s his problem with us?�

�Well, beyond the obvious fact that you�re adding a whole slew of people to the Paladin ranks when he�s grown up his entire career without them?� Ali shrugs. �Nothing at all right now. Word is, he�s waiting to see what happens. But if he opposes you, or the Paladins, it�ll be a mess.�

Left unsaid is the fact that if he�s got the army�s backing, he�s probably quite high on the contender list for taking over in a civil war. Potentially the leading applicant. Which means he�s got the most to lose.

�Why not the Minister of Defense?� I ask. �To be the leading candidate.�

�Way too old. He�s even older than the Queen. Also, he�s a career military man. The way he built his Skills, he�s better off where he is than as the King. If he took over, his effectiveness would drop by a good quarter. No one wants that,� Ali says.

�Why would he�� I shake my head, chiding myself. �Never mind. Not everyone wants to be king, right?�

�Exactly, boy-o.� Ali smirks. �Next, we�ve got her.�

The new image that shows up is a striking female. Tall, even for the Erethrans and they�re normally seven feet tall. Androgynous in her midnight-blue-and-yellow-trimmed uniform. If I remember correctly, that�s the uniform of the Admiralty�the space fleets. More striking than her height though is the long, angular nose that dominates her face. It�s hard to see anything but the beak.

Julierudi K�nillam, Viscountess of the Purple Sky March, Victor of the Blade of Kalruz, Bane of Leviathans, Slayer of Goblins, Spacejelly, Ismaki,� (Erethran Space Lord Level 23) (H)

HP: 1470/1470

MP: 3420/3420

Conditions: Aura of Space Domination, Command Experience, Dominion of the Stars, Better Training, Empire Security Protocols

�Dominion of the Stars?� I ask.

�Oh, that�s an interesting Skill,� Ali says, pulling it out for me.

Dominion of the Stars (Level 1)

For the Space Lord, the stars are home. Everything within their domain is theirs to use, whether in enemy territory or without. They control all that they survey and all those within. Friend or foe, all must bow to the supremacy of the Space Lord in their dominion.

Effect 1: All allied ships, fleets, and individuals gain the following increases while within the domain of the Space Lord:

+0.01% Experience Gain within domain

+10% increase in speed and other forms of movement or cost of teleportation Skills

-0.1% decrease in calculated size of domain

+0.1% increase in effect of all Skills

-0.1% decrease in effectiveness of all Skills used by enemy combatants

-10% decrease in speed and other forms of movement or cost of teleportation Skills

-0.1% decrease in effects of all Skills

-0.01% Experience Gain within domain

Effect 2: Above domain effects occur within the presence of the Space Lord.

Effect 1 Range: Variable (dependent on domain and control)

Effect 2 Range: All allied ships within 210.854 billion kilometers radius of the Admiral are under effects of the Skill

�So it�s basically a combined buff Skill,� I say. It�s good if you consider it affects the entirety of the Empire. She basically buffs every allied spaceship and debuffs every enemy ship wandering in. In particular, that movement speed and domain size portion would allow them to reposition faster than would be expected. �Heroic Skills are evil.�

�Well, you�ll get one some day.�

�About that��

Ali cuts me off. �Nope. Staying on track for this discussion. Viscountess K�nillam is the first in line to inherit the planet Covintah. She�s also the leading candidate among the noble legion and the second Space Lord. She�d be first, but politics and age have kept her from taking the Space Lord�s place.�

�Heroic.�

�That she is. It�s one of the reasons why the military isn�t as enamored. For her to Level as Queen, it�d take a while. In the meantime��

�The Empire takes a big hit. So why�s she got any support?� I say, frowning.

I�m trying to remember the social structure lessons I�ve consumed, the data about how their society works between the military and the noble classes. If my memory is right, the Erethran nobles are like knights of old, given their place due to service. Unlike Earth history though, their titles can be stripped for lack of service. Along with that, the lands, the planets, and even the industries they�re in charge of are only theirs so long as they provide for the Empire. There are minimum targets they must meet, and those who don�t�or who step too far out of line�can lose it all. They�re not so much nobles in the traditional human sense as contracted merchants and knights.

�They�d rather have one of their own in charge than anyone else,� Ali says. �Brerdain�s a military man through-and-through. He doesn�t come from any of the noble houses, so they�d expect him to oppose their usual grifting and other no-bid contracts. And, if you�re wondering, they don�t want more Paladins because historically, Paladins have targeted the noble houses for audits and other verifications. After a hundred years��

�There�s going to be a heck of a lot of graft,� I say. Of course. Which might be why Brerdain is willing to keep an eye on me rather than act. �Can we expect overt action?�

�Unlikely.� Ali shakes his head. �The Queen�s made her wishes known. And some of the staunch traditionalists actually want you guys back. Of course, some of them might try to slip in their own kind of Paladin��

I grunt. Yay. So no guns in the night. Just corruption. At least until I make waves. That doesn�t make me feel any better. I gesture with my hand for Ali to keep moving though. Not much I can do about it but keep an eye out.

�Third major party to worry about. Spuryan Chaiwan. Leader of the Reluctant Survivors Church. Or cult, depending on how you look at it,� Ali says.

Spuryan Chaiwan, Reluctant Survivors Prophet, the Golden Tongue, Master of the Golden Bell, Master Craftsmen,� (Level 33 Prophet) (M)

HP: 2390/2390

MP: 3480/3480

Conditions: Aura of the Survivors, Aura of the Prophet, Social Vortex, A Little Reasonable Request, Passive Passion

Looking at Spuryan, the way he doesn�t dress like a military man, and along with Ali�s words, I can�t help but confirm, �Not part of the military.�

�Not at all.�

I eye the shorter-than-normal Erethran as he floats in my notification window. Spuryan is- five feet ten inches, almost a midget by their standards. Maybe it�s because of his height, but of the three, he seems the most perfectly coiffed. His horns are embellished, shined, and filled with jewelry. His skin is smooth and well taken care of, his cheeks a bright, blushed red. There�s a light, comforting smile on his face, even as the resplendent robed cult leader stands with his arms crossed before him in the image.

�Why�s a cult leader upset with me?�

�Oh, not you in particular. The establishment.� I make an enquiring hmmm, which gets Ali talking further. �He, and his people, believe that Erethran society has gone too far. That a change is required to one that doesn�t expand externally, but instead focuses internally.�

�So no more wars?�

�No more wars. More culture. More economic development between solar systems and planets within. And a focus on the Forbidden Zone and taking back planets that have been lost,� Ali explains.

I sigh. Tired of sitting, I minimize the images and head over to stand before the window. I stare outside, seeing not the green grass of the flat lawn but a blasted, torn red landscape, a world devoid of everyday life. Until it isn�t, and the teeth and fangs of the Forbidden Planet monsters emerge, seeking my throat.

�That�s impossible.�

�So long as Mana increases,� Ali says, shaking his head. �But continually picking up and moving planets isn�t exactly healthy either.�

Too true. So many planets, so many lives lost because they couldn�t afford to leave the solar systems that have fallen into the Forbidden Zone. It�s not sustainable, not really. Especially when the new, life-bearing planet numbers keep dropping. When you have to rebuild a new society every few hundred years.

�He and his group are the most likely external threats you will face,� Ali says. �They aren�t likely to do anything too overt or aggressive, but��

�But?�

Ali shrugs. �If he or his people can influence you, they will. If they can make the Paladins support their cause, that�d be a win in their views.�

I turn away from the window and look back at the Spirit. �That it?�

�Nope. I still got a dozen more. Lesser importance, but we�ve got others who might want, or think they deserve, a shot, or who might have issues with the initiates. Or you. Including some external organizations, like the Blacklist Asteroid pirates,� Ali says.

I sigh, flopping back in my chair and conjuring a big box of chocolate. �Fine. I guess we�re doing this then.�

Ali grins and I roll my eyes, but I get to listening. And while I do so, I keep an ear out for what he doesn�t say. For the threats to my other task, for the real danger that lurks beneath it all. I keep an eye on the information he feeds me, the data downloads, as my mind that�s been pushed and expanded by the library tackles the problem head-on.

And I wonder, a small part of me, how far away from human I�ve come. And how much further I�ll go before this is over.

Chapter 7

The next evening, it has taken me an hour or so to track down the Champion. I�d spent the morning and most of the afternoon with the initiates, working through their requests. Funny to think that I found her in the city itself, a good teleport circle away. Those things were keyed to only push authorized people back and forth, hard-line coded so that you couldn�t use them to pop out�or in�anywhere but the circles. Good safety procedures, but annoying after spending so long blipping around wherever I wanted.

I wait, leaning against the wall opposite the building the Champion is in. I attract the attention of more than a few passersby. There�s even a security guard standing inside the grounds, watching me. I guess the sight of a human lurking before a school building in the middle of a city is all kinds of suspicious. Especially when said alien has his Class hidden.

Still, it�s probably better than me wandering into the center of the school and demanding to speak to the Champion while she�s busy doing a classroom visit. I mean, I�m an ass, but messing up the kids� treat goes from an ass to just rude.

Even as I ponder the fine line and browse the information streams, a floating car pulls up. Anti-gravity propellers on the bottom allow the vehicle to hover just off the ground as it glides almost soundlessly up to me. From inside the gray-and-black vehicle step two Erethrans, dressed in the same colors, sheathed swords and guns on their hips. A large glinting bracer sits on their off-hands, ready to pop up a moving shield generator when it�s needed. Small, circular manacles sit on their belts, distortion equipment to lock me down if necessary.

�Excuse me, sir. We�d like a few words with you,� the Erethran closest to me says once he stops a few feet away. Just outside of my reach, but easily within his.

His friend is farther back, flanking him with his hand on his gun while eying Ali, who floats beside me.

Erethran Peace Officer (Level 34) (B)

HP: 690/690

MP: 690/690

Conditions: Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability

As his Aura pings off my resistances, I pull out the notification on the Aura itself.

Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability (B)

A mainstay Skill among Peace Officers the Galaxy over, this Aura is less threatening and increases individuals� suggestibility to commands. It encourages a calm and peaceful interaction, muting anger and other passionate responses.

Effects: +10% increase in chance for command obedience

-10% decrease in hormonal and emotional responses within field

Range: 10m diameter

Cute. Probably a useful thing, considering the amount of stressed and grumpy individuals they deal with. It�s a lot less harsh and in your face than a military officer�s Aura of Command, and generally makes working in crowd control or just walking down the street easier and more peaceful.

I tilt my head, eying the other officer.

Erethran Peace Speaker (Level 39)

HP: 450/450

MP: 810/810

Conditions: Eye of Truth, Aura of Volubility

His Aura is a good complement to his Skill. The Aura makes you want to talk, while the Eye of Truth verifies if you�re telling the truth. Obviously there�s the usual issue with �truth�-telling spells, ranging from how they verify truth to what kind of truth it verifies, but I�m going to ignore all that. Add the Aura of Orderly Peace & Stability to the mix, and you end up answering questions without even meaning to. That is, if you can�t resist them.

�Sir?� the first officer calls again.

�Sorry, Officer. Boy-o gets distracted,� Ali replies for me, floating over and adjusting his angle to be at eye-level. �What can we do for you?�

I eye the street, noticing how the Erethran public is backing off, disappearing. There are notable exceptions. A pair of teenagers glare at me, hands by their sides. As if they�re ready to jump in. And an older man, seated down farther from me, sipping on his drink. He pings off as more of a danger�not just his Class and Levels but because of how calm he is. He�s a vet or an Adventurer, someone who�s seen shit.

�Just a routine check, sir. We�ve had reports of a suspicious individual lurking before the school,� the first officer continues speaking. He has his legs apart, backed off just enough that I have to crank my head up a little to meet those brown eyes of his. There�s a polite smile on his lips, but his eyes are cold and passionless.

�Lurking would require me to be using a Skill to hide, no?� I say, then frown. �Unless there�s a translation or cultural error.� I tap my lips before chopping down sideways. �Doesn�t matter. I�m not lurking. I�m standing in full view.�

�For what reason?�

�I�m waiting.� When my statement is met with frigid silence, I sigh. �For the Champion.�

There�s a puzzled pause then. They�re not concerned I�m going to attack her. That�d be dumb. She�s their Champion. The very idea of me being able to beat her is inconceivable to them.

�Are you a uniform chaser?� the Speaker finally asks, his voice doubtful as he eyes me.

�A what?�

�Uniform chaser.�

�Repeating doesn�t explain anything,� I snap.

�Uniform chaser. Someone who�s a fan of those in uniform. Sort of like your groupies or puck bunnies,� Ali explains.

�Wait. You think I�m here to sleep with Ayuri?� I say, my jaw dropping.

�Sleep with? No! How dare you. The Champion would never�� the Officer starts up, getting agitated and angry.

�Carmaz. Stop.� A pulse of power originating from the Speaker shuts up his colleague. �Now, what are you doing here?�

�I�m waiting to speak with the Champion. Not sleep with her. Or get her autograph.� I pause. �Do you guys do autographs? Or is there something else? A System e-mail? Notification that�s specially added? A tattoo? Branding?�

I�m getting weird looks now. Well, weirder. The Officer has calmed himself, but he�s also stepped back another half-step as his eyes narrow just above my head. Mana swirls around him as he triggers a Skill, then another one. Then he gestures with one hand while buffing himself. The Speaker�s eyes are flicking side-to-side. If I had to guess, she�s calling in more help.

�It is a crime to conceal one�s Class from a Peace Officer,� the Officer says, his voice dropping a notch cooler. He�s calmer now that they think I might be a problem. Calmer than some veterans of the apocalypse I�ve met. I�m impressed.

�Sorry. Didn�t realize that. One sec.� I touch the ring on my left hand.

As I turn it off, my Status information flickers on again. Ever since I�ve begun using Daghtree�s Legendary Ring of Deception, I�ve been amused to learn that it has a lower-Level effect that can be triggered without using a charge. It�s part of its own ability to conceal its effects, making it look like a simple Ring of Deception. Once willed, the information hiding my Status disappears, leaving it open for anyone to read. Of course, I keep on the secondary effect that hides my true Level.

�Rings of Deception are restricted materials. I will need to see a permit,� the Officer says, his eyes locked on my hands, both of which are still clasped in front of me.

�Don�t have one, sorry,� I say. �Ali, can you make a note on that?�

�What am I? Your secretary?� Ali throws up his hands.

�We�re going to need to confiscate the ring then.� The Officer isn�t even trying to hide his wariness, having pulled his pistol.

I idly eye the weapon, noting it�s a Tier II. It�d hurt if I got shot, but it wouldn�t do more than annoy me.

�Carmaz,� the Speaker says, his voice urgent. Rather than drawing his weapon, his eyes are locked above my head and my newly revealed Status.

�Hand over the ring. Slowly.�

�Not happening.� I shake my head.

The pistol rises. �I won�t ask you again.�

The Speaker�s voice grows more frenetic. �Carmaz!�

I eye the surroundings idly, noting how the two teens disappeared the moment my Status became visible. On the other hand, the vet has made a giant beam rifle appear. It�s sitting across his knees, but I do note that the barrel is pointed in my direction.

�What?� the Officer snaps at his partner.

�Look at his Status!�

Carmaz visibly yanks his gaze upward, resting above my head. His eyes widen then narrow. He looks at me�at my face, at me resting against the wall still�and takes a large step back. The beam pistol doesn�t move from my chest though.

�I am arresting you. Failure to reveal Status. Use of class 7 restricted items. Impersonation of government officials,� Carmaz recites the words by rote.

�I�m not impersonating anyone. That�s my name. And my Class.� I tilt my head at the Speaker. �Ask your partner.�

�He speaks truth. But that�s not possible.�

�Put up your hands. I want to see them. We�re waiting until prisoner transportation arrives.�

I groan, moving my hand up to my face. Ali�s trying to say something to calm the man, to deal with the misunderstanding. I even hear Carmaz bark at me to stop rubbing at my face, but I ignore him. Mostly. I do toss up a Soul Shield, not wanting to actually get shot.

�That Skill��

�I�m adding use of restricted Class Skills to the charges!�

�Look, boy-o really is telling the truth. Just check with your bosses��

�There are no reports of a new Paladin!�

�Oh, shit. Yeah, maybe Ayuri hasn�t let it be known��

�Put your hands up! You are under arrest.�

I�m kind of grateful that they�re well trained and not shooting me. Since I�m not doing anything aggressive, they aren�t risking getting physical or escalating things. Not without reinforcements. Smart. Because you never know.

Another Skill washes over me, one that attempts to shut down access to my Skills. And I frown. Because that�s normally the start of something more�

The pistol that hasn�t shifted glows, the finger slips over the trigger. The Peace Officer keeps barking orders about me giving up and lowering my defenses to let them cuff me.

And then, Unilo and Mayaya pop into existence right beside us.

The beam from the pistol hits my Soul Shield, flaring once then dying. Another, more serious attack comes from the vet. It almost drills right through the Shield. I�m impressed. Very much so.

Having fired at me, the Officer is turning, readying himself to deal with the new threats while the Speaker claps his hands together, stilling Mana. Sirens blare above us as the newly arrived prisoner transport with its artillery-sized weaponry deploys out its sides, laser targeting sights locking onto my body. My still-leaning-against-the-wall body.

�Oh, hey, guys!� I greet the Honor Guards with the hand that was rubbing at my face. I don�t change my stance or let my body language change, even with the attacks. I do refresh my Soul Shield though, just in case. �About time you arrived.�

***

�You couldn�t have done this a little more discreetly?� Ayuri snaps at me two hours later, the moment she strides back into her office on the palace grounds.

After Mayaya and Unilo settled the police�and added my information to the public database so that this wouldn�t happen again�they�d dragged me out of public sight. Even if their society didn�t have reporters or paparazzi per se, it didn�t mean the gossip network and other word-of-mouth systems of information didn�t exist.

�I tried,� I protest, throwing up my hands and nearly spilling the drink in my hand. It�s a bright, glowing pink and tastes a little like a good mead. Sweet, dry, and with one heck of a kick. It�s from Ayuri�s personal stock, hidden behind a false wall but not locked.

�Give me that!� She snatches the bottle from my other hand, leaving me with my glass as she pours herself a drink. �And how was announcing your presence on the planet by creating a public incident discreet?�

�I didn�t come into the school because I was trying,� I grumbled. �I was just waiting around. How was I supposed to know you hadn�t told them I was around?�

�You�ve been watching our broadcasts! Did you see us announce the return of our Paladins?�

�No��

�Exactly!� Ayuri spits out.

�Oh, come on, you yourself told me that anyone who�s anyone knows I�m about. How was I supposed to know that didn�t include the police?� I say.

�I meant the powers that be! The Generals, the Space Lord, the Minister of Defense, and the noble houses.� Ayuri drains her cup, pours herself another, and growls. �Not the general public. We didn�t want them to know.�

�Why not?�

�Oh, now you want to be the public face? You want to take on the role of the Paladins properly?� The Champion�s lips curl up. �Well. Now that�s good to know.�

�I didn�t�� I flick my gaze over to where Ali is. I can�t see the Spirit of course�he�s on the other side of the wall, hovering and chatting with the other guards. But I can sense him, talk to him. �What are the usual things Paladins do?�

�What do any unbending, intrepid dreamers do?� Ali sends back to me, amusement dancing in his voice. �They go on crusades. Corruption among the nobles, in the military. Fixing injustices in the civilian population. Hunting down criminals who are too entrenched and others refuse to pursue. Righting the wrongs of the world, of course.�

My lips rise while I reply, �Doesn�t sound bad.�

�Great. I have a dozen school visits that I need done,� Ayuri says, already flicking her fingers at me.

�Uhh�� I shut down the notification without looking at it.

�Oh, you mean what they do for the populace? PR. Kissing babies. Teaching inspirational speeches. You know. What the Champion was doing.�

�That isn�t going to happen. I might take on a few corrupt noble houses though.�

�I might hold you to that,� Ayuri says. �But, really. What do you want? You didn�t cause a scene like that to say hi. Or steal my kevia.�

�Is that what it�s called?� I raise the glass, sip on it, and make a mental note to add it to my shopping list. �I need a budget.�

�Budget?�

I flick my hand sideways, giving her access to the information the initiates provided me this morning. There�d been some aggressive negotiating, and I�ll go over it all once more. But in the end, I�m going to let them choose what they want. Because part of being an adult is making your own choices. And if there�s anything more adult than choosing to pursue a job that no one with any sense wants to do, I can�t think of it.

�The initiates aren�t going to survive, not as they are now. They need new Skills, new equipment. And that requires a budget,� I say. �So. Show me the money.�

Of course, Ayuri doesn�t react to that. It�s not as if it�s an Erethran thing. Funnily enough, with so many entertainment options spread across the Galaxy, the idea of memes, of a shared entertainment culture is rather fragmented. Outside of the occasional smash hit, it�s Classers�Legendaries and Heroics�who are well known and have a tendency to cross cultural lines.

�A budget�� Ayuri grins and slams back the kevia, emptying her cup. I feel a chill run through me at her smile. �I know just where to send you.�

�Uhhhh��

***

Ayuri is banging on the residential door, one hand holding the bottle and a glass of kevia. It took her less than a minute to get here, abusing her ability to Portal around the planet to end up in this dreary, carpeted hallway. That the light brown floor moves and twitches on its own is a little disturbing, though the low light it gives off is a beautiful thing to behold. Down the hallway with its projected outdoor forest wallpaper is the sole window, showing the twinkling lights of the streets outside.

From what I can tell in my minimap, we�re in the middle of a suburban residential neighborhood. A rich neighborhood, with the way the grounds are spaced out. No apartments here, stacking people, one signal on top of another.

�Open up, Saimon. I know you�re in there,� Ayuri calls.

�You do know this is late at night, right?� I say.

Not that late�the alien planet equivalent of nine in the evening. But late enough. Especially if the two dots being placed right on top of one another when we arrived is anything to go by.

�Go away, Ayuri!� The voice that calls out is rather short of breath. And a little muffled. It�s somewhat high-pitched, but not feminine necessarily. Or at least, not what I�d consider feminine for the Erethrans.

�No. Come out, Saimon.�

�He�s busy, Champion.� Another voice, quite deep and not at all amused.

�Oh, you�re there too, Lord Braxton?� Ayuri�s grin widens. �Perfect. Now, come out or I�ll come in. Ten seconds.�

�You wouldn�t dare!� Saimon shouts. But I hear scrambling from within.

�She would. You know she would,� Lord Braxton mutters. If not for my enhanced Perception, there�d be no way for me to hear him. Then again, he probably knows that. �Ever since you broke up with her, she�s been on the warpath.�

I raise an eyebrow at Ayuri, who crosses her arms.

�It�s not like that,� she says.

�Uh huh.�

�Ten!� Ayuri counts down, even if the count is only, like, four or five. She slaps her hand on the access panel, not that she needs to activate it. But I get the feeling she�s doing it because she wants to. �Here I come.�

The first sight to greet me is a tall, slim figure. I catch sight of small breasts on a muscular torso being covered by the closing touch-zip of a jumpsuit. As my eyes track upward, they meet pursed, full lips and green eyes. Shoulder-length hair frames delicate cheekbones, but there�s a masculine jut to the jaw and in the sweep of coral ears. I blink, thrown off by the conflicting information.

Saimon Calicus, Seeker of Truth, Ten Thousand Audits, Golden Reviewer, Slayer of Goblins (Forensic Accountant Level 41) (M)

HP: 980/980

MP: 2780/2780

Conditions: Forensic View, Auditors Authority, Eyes of the Scales

�Why are you bothering me, Yuri?� Saimon snaps, smoothing out the lay of his jumpsuit, his voice the more feminine one.

�Oh, I�m sorry. Did I interrupt you? Maybe sleeping with another husband?� Ayuri retorts. �And don�t call me that. You don�t get to anymore.�

Lord Braxton is lounging, one slim, toned, hairless leg thrown outside of the cream blankets. The other leg�and other important bits�is covered by the silk sheet. His chest is bare�hairless, as well, but toned in the way an office worker who hits the gym once in a while might look. Not a pure fighter then, at least not by his physique. His Status confirms it too.

Lord Leral Braxton, Baron of Unsqe, Houndmaster, Royal Aide,� (Galactic Steward Level 38) (M)

HP: 860/860

MP: 1520/1520

Conditions: Bestial Instincts, Strength of the Pack, Distributed Pain, Enhanced Senses, On the Hunt, Engorged

�My partners are more than aware of Saimon,� Lord Braxton says with a low drawl. �In fact, we�re discussing adding him to our triad.�

�Well, isn�t that nice of you. Doing it the right way.� Ayuri�s voice drips venom as she glares at Saimon.

I listen at first, then try to trigger a Blink Step. It fails, of course, but the swirl of Mana around me is enough to draw the attention of all three. Even the pain of the failed Blink Step is less than that of listening to the lovers� tiff.

�Don�t you dare move, Paladin,� Ayuri snaps. �You�re the reason I�m here.�

�I�m pretty sure it�s your hurt feelings that brought us here, dear,� Ali offers helpfully. He�s floated into the room, idly eying the occupants and the furnishings. More the half-dressed Braxton than the furnishings. �But don�t worry, we aren�t holding it against you. Not that boy-o here knows how to handle his relationships any better.�

�You wanted finances. And Saimon here is the Minister of Finance.� Ayuri waves at the man/woman/herm/another alien or System combination that might make my head hurt. �If you need a budget, Paladin, you�ll need to talk to him. And since Lord Braxton is here, he can take over dealing with you.�

�I�d prefer�� I begin.

�I don�t care. I�m the Champion of the Erethran Empire, not your personal servant. If you have questions, you can talk to these two. I�ve got better things to do.�

�Like visiting schools and bothering your ex?� Ali says.

Ayuri punches out with a fist, dismissing the Spirit with a push of power. It�s such a smooth execution of energy that Ali goes pop without me even being able to do anything. Then, before I can bitch about it, she disappears, Blink Stepping away.

�Uhh�� I scratch my head, looking at the empty spot then at the pair of bemused lovers. �So. That happened.�

***

�Thank you.� I sip on the Galactic equivalent of coffee, rotating the drink in my hand. Unfortunately, unlike real coffee, this drink is more sour and bitter than dark and smooth.

Still, production of coffee in the strength required to affect Adventurers is lagging behind. Earth has more important things to do, and even the few producers there are have only managed to get their beans to affect those in the low hundreds of Constitution. That doesn�t even include my own Resistance to poisons. Basically, it�ll be years, if not decades, before I can actually enjoy coffee for its effects again. Though I still keep a couple of bags around for the taste.

�So. You and the Champion.� I raise a single eyebrow, doing my best not to smirk. �You�re a lot braver than I am.�

�We were cadets together, many years ago. We�ve been on and off since then,� Saimon says before he shrugs. �I wanted something a little more permanent. She didn�t. But when I started seeing others, she objected. Said I was betraying her.�

Society�s Web tells me there�s more to this discussion. More to the twisted thread between it and Ayuri, glistening brown and red. There�s another thread, this one golden and red, that leads between him and Lord Braxton. And Braxton himself has more of those golden-red threads�two others. I know what those mean, love and passion, twisted with expectation. But Braxton has others, brown-gray, knotted with ties that lead to him, dozens of them. Duties, obligations, loyalty�almost all one-sided. A touch of my mind, and I know they�re for his hounds. It doesn�t take much more than a question to Ali to clarify what they are. Not actual animals � not anymore � but spies, saboteurs and assassins.

I debate asking more but decide I really don�t need to know the interpersonal drama among the individuals in the Erethran government. I�m here for another reason entirely.

�Credits,� I say. �Was she lying?�

�No. In fact, I�m probably the best person to discuss this with. As you know, the Paladins have been a foundational pillar of the Empire for many years. Because of that, they�ve had a large budget assigned to the institution and upkeep of their services.� Saimon pauses, visibly thinking about what he wants to say next.

Lord Braxton leans forward, his own cup kept warm in his hands. Behind him, the bedroom that we haven�t left is displayed, hints of their dalliance still visible and fragrant. I�d have preferred to have moved to someplace less intimate, but they haven�t suggested a move. I�m not sure if it�s an Erethran thing or just a damn the Champion thing.

�What Saimon is trying, and failing, to say is that your budget is currently being used by others,� Lord Braxton says.

�Others?� I�m getting a dreadful feeling here, one that says that Ayuri�s sudden actions might have more to do with these �others� than wanting to get back at her ex-lover.

�You must understand, even if the budget set aside for aiding the Paladins was not significant compared to the military budget, it was still a massive amount in totality. After a decade, it was decided that we could do better things with the funds than letting them collect untouched.� Saimon�s fingers run around the cup as it thinks. �In the end, a directive was passed and the budget was allocated to a variety of other individuals.�

�And now? Now that I�m back? Now that the Paladins are returning?�

�Many will not be happy. There are corporations and planets that rely on the additional budget to stay afloat,� Lord Braxton says. �The trading to determine where the budget goes every year is a major mainstay of the current political climate.�

�Great.� I shake my head, discarding the idea that I really want to get involved in that. Instead� �Look. I really don�t care. I just want you guys to find me enough funds to pay for the initiates� Skills and equipment.�

I send them the documentation, the long list of Skills and the Credits that we require. I might have tacked on a few more Credits for myself, just because. But not a lot.

Their reaction is quite interesting, for they skim through everything, looking not so much at the individual Skill information or equipment requests, but instead the Credit amount at the end.

�Is that it?� Saimon says.

�For now. I�d prefer to have access to a lot more than that, especially as I expect we�ll be fine-tuning some of these requests as we go along,� I say.

I know asking for tens of millions of credits is a bit much. But they�re also asking me to raise a bunch of Paladin initiates. Without the right Skill sets, without the right training, they�ll probably just die. I expect they�d rather we get this right than waste my time and their lives.

�Oh, it�s not that,� Saimon says. He glances at Lord Braxton, who chuckles as well. They gesture at the final amount. �This is actually significantly less than we expected. I could free up that much from the Queen�s petty cash easily. Returning the funds to there would be a little more difficult, but not impossible. In fact, we should still have the majority of this amount in the revolving discretionary account.�

I blink at the pair of administrators. And then I realize, once again, how big the difference is between a single individual like me and the Empire. Even if I�d thought I�d adjusted my idea of what was considered a �high� amount, I obviously hadn�t adjusted it enough. They might not have the strength of an individual Legendary, but when you have millions and millions of people contributing to your tax base, tens of millions of Credits is nothing.

�Well, once you release the discretionary funds, start working on getting back the rest of the budget. In the meantime, make sure my people get trained. That means real trainers with the right Skills.� I grimace as a thought strikes. �Once they start buying Master Class Skills, I expect that the expenses will increase again.�

�Of course, of course.� Lord Braxton waves his hands sideways. �In the meantime, if you�re looking for specific equipment that you need to purchase, I ask that you send the requests to me beforehand. I already see a number of requests in here that I can replace with similar and cheaper, or similar and better, equipment. Through our mercantile contacts, that is.�

�Fair enough.�

We�d gotten the quotes from the Shop itself, knowing that that would likely be the most expensive manner of getting what we need. If they can find ways of cutting corners without cutting quality, I have no objections. We�ll need our budget in as best a state that it can be, for once they do become real Paladins, the System will allow them to purchase Master Class Skills. Still�

�Why do the Paladins need so many funds?�

�For much of the time during their presence, many of the Credits used by the Paladins were for bribes, restitution, and replacement costs for things destroyed. Unfortunately, our Paladins were well known for their disregard for property and individuals in the pursuit of justice,� Saimon says, his lips turning down slightly. �In addition, the bureaucracy required to deal with the fallout was significant. Especially when some of our Paladins journeyed to other empires and kingdoms.�

I grunted. It�s one thing for me to play Bounty Hunter and kill bad people on other planets or kingdoms. Anyone I annoyed could track me down, but they didn�t really have a lot they could do other than killing me or placing a secondary bounty on my head. On the other hand, when you�re representing an entire Empire, the Empire can�t really run away from responsibility as much. I�m kind of glad that a bureaucracy has grown up to deal with the fallout, leaving the Paladins to do what I do best.

�Good to know. Who do I talk to about beginning to staff the Paladin�s bureacracy again?�

�Do you expect to need such help soon?� Lord Braxton looks a bit worried.

�Not yet. I�m planning for the future. No point getting my initiates trained up as Paladins and leaving them without backup. I expect it�ll take a while to find the right people. Best to get started soon.�

Lord Braxton and Saimon share a relieved look before Braxton adds, �Well, it�s nice to work with someone who�s thinking ahead. We�ll need at least a few months.�

�And the funds?�

�I will get her Majesty�s approval tomorrow and you should have access soon after. The rest of it�� Saimon hesitates then shrugs. �That might take longer.�

�Just get it done.� I down the last of their drink and stand, nodding to them both. �I look forward to hearing from you.�

�One thing,� Lord Braxton speaks up, his gaze focused on me. Even seated, they aren�t much shorter than I am. Almost reminds me of the decades I spent being the short guy in Canada. �Will you be open to meeting those who might be affected?� When I frown, he hastily adds, �You are asking for a change to a System that has worked for decades. Surely you can spare a few minutes to talk to those affected.�

Suspicion gnaws at my instincts and my eyes narrow. �And who might those be?�

�Members of the noble houses. A few Guild leaders. Corporate tycoons.� When I continue to frown, he adds, �Viscountess Purple March.�

�Ahhh�� I breathe the word and almost decide to turn him down. But then I remember my real job. The choice I�ll have to make. And I realize at some point, I�ll have to meet her. �Fine. Set it up.�

I get a relieved smile from Lord Braxton, but the primal, sensuous image I had has crumbled, disappeared under the cold dash of reality. No one, not at this level, is just one thing. They�re all political animals of some stripe. And it seems I�ve found where one of the alliances lie.

After that, it�s just a few more kind words before the pair shows me out. And then, the very long wait for an automated vehicle to bring me back to the palace. Annoying, but it does give me time to think. I�m not sure if Ayuri really meant to drop me off with them to annoy her ex-lover or if she�s playing a deeper game. I get the feeling there�s little bit of both in there. A way for her to introduce me to the players without being too upfront. But setting up the Paladins is slowly looking more and more complex.

At least I should be able to pick up a few new toys though.

Chapter 8

The floating aircar I rest within is both more and less wondrous than I could ever imagine. It floats soundlessly, cutting through the atmosphere at hundreds of kilometers a second, the G forces entirely canceled out by anti-gravity tech. At the same time, the insides are no different than any car I�ve been in. Indulgent, soft-as-a-cloud seats, arm, and leg rests add to the luxury, but it�s still a car interior. There�s no steering wheel and even fewer controls for the vehicle itself. Most of the vehicle�s operation is done by the AI traffic control system and the backup, semi-sentient AI within the car itself.

I sit in silence for a time, watching the ground pass by. Twinkling lights for buildings and individuals, the occasional flare of magic and beam weaponry opening fire on the monsters that press against the edges of civilization. Not many individual flying armor suits at this time of night, all the good citizens of the Empire tucked away in bed. Even so, the push against the monsters is ongoing.

The planet of Pauhiri might not be a Dungeon World, but it lies quite a distance away from the Galactic edge, relatively close to the Forbidden Zone. And because of that, the overflow of Mana has seen the increased birth of monsters. They pop into existence constantly outside the Safe Zones, at the edges of the cities and emplaced positions, ready to attack, to kill and Level. And they�re just as quickly dealt with by the citizens of the Empire, ensuring the civilians of Pauhiri are safe.

Except�

It�s a bad idea. A bad plan. As history, as false memory tells me all too easily.

� has shown that the creation of natural dungeons are an important Mana-cleansing method of the System. The birth of dungeons and the monsters within them allow a higher flow-through of ambient Mana, such that the System is able to catalogue, cleanse, and divert the Mana to low ambient Mana environments.

Based upon these findings, it is recommended that monsters�in particular, Alpha monsters�be allowed to be birthed in non-Dungeon Worlds and, furthermore, be cultivated to higher Levels before their deaths. Their development will lower the environmental Mana amounts in the region (see charts 128.3, 128.4 and statistic tables in appendix 128 for further detail), increasing System-planet viability timelines.

It is further hypothesized that the abandonment of planets near the Forbidden Zone at the earliest period will see a decrease in viability period of neighboring planets. (See the Ofelia and Ums Cases by Hed & Zaritskaya). Initial indications are that the outflow from the Forbidden Zone has seen a decreased timeline for System planet viability.

I shudder, shoving aside the memory of the academic study. It�s not the only one, not the only document, video, and memory recording that tries to take over my mind. Graphs, tables of recorded data, speaking heads in pale blue labs. All of it flowing through my mind in a blip and leaving me reeling.

And, as always, another tick upward in my System Quest experience. Another hole filled in. But still, I grasp at the edges. Even as some things, some questions are answered.

I push aside the thoughts and finally, finally call forth the only person I can talk to. At least, to some extent. It requires some Mana, an effort of will against reality�s barrier. And then, the olive-skinned Spirit reappears.

�Ali.�

�About time. What took you so long?� the Spirit grumps at me.

I shrug. There is really no reason. Other than a desire to be alone. And that�s hard enough to get sometimes.

�Whatever. Where are we going?� Ali says, when I offer him no explanation.

�Home.� Or the closest thing to home right now. Better to say the place I�m putting my head down, but semantics. �Why?�

�Because we�re not.� Ali waves and a map appears. Much bigger, taking in all the city. A flicker in the top right highlights the palace. Another blinking dot on the bottom left shows my location, and a dotted line shows our flight path. Away from the Palace.

�Crap.� I wasn�t paying attention. Not thinking I was in danger. Not thinking anyone would take action on the capital planet. But here I am, flying to an unknown location. I buff myself while I consider my options.

Destroy the aircar? Possible, but it�d throw me out into the middle of nowhere. Which might be what they�re looking for. I don�t know what the repercussions of destroying an aircar in the capital city might be. And while I have some protection as a Paladin, it�s all theoretical.

�Call for help.� Probably blocked but worth a try.

�On it,� Ali says, his eyes going blank.

I could stay here and wait. But tough as I am, whoever is taking action probably knows all about me and what I can do. Walking into an ambush is a bad idea, no matter what I tell the initiates.

�I�m blocked,� Ali says moments later.

That�s it. I raise my foot, ready to stomp down, and am halted by a new voice.

�Paladin. Our apologies for the interruption. There is no need for violence.� The voice blaring out of the aircar�s speakers is rough, as if they�ve been smoking a couple of packs a day for the last couple of decades.

�Pretty sure there is.� But I put my foot down. I can still break the car with a thought, but I�m willing to wait. �Keep an eye out for threats, will you?�

�Teach a Goblin how to populate a planet, why don�t you?�

�The Prophet just wants to speak with you,� the voice comes again, just a touch of pleading in it. �We promise you, we offer you no harm.�

�Then open up communication channels. Three seconds, or else I make my way out of this vehicle.� I�m curious, especially when they mention the Prophet, but I want more than a verbal assurance.

�Done.�

�Let Mikito and Bolo know. Keep them updated on our location,� I send to Ali. At the same time, I reach within and pop out Hod�s Armor, placing my hand over the box and letting it begin the process of armoring me. I hear a slight squeak from the voice, but I never promised to come unarmed.

�Well� you�ll be here in a few minutes. Please, remember we are just here to speak with you,� the voice says a little breathlessly.

I smile grimly, leaving the helmet unformed. Activating it, covering myself would take only a second. Might be too long, but I figure that between Sanctum and my Soul Shield, I should be fine. And if not, I�m sure Mikito will bring fire and flame down on them in revenge. Never mind Ayuri.

Killing me now that my friends know what�s going on seems much less likely.

�They�ve confirmed receipt. Bolo�s cursing up a storm about getting woken up. And Harry wants to know if he can ride along in the armor�s recording features.�

�Go for it.He might see something I don�t.�

�I want to know if we�re telling the Champion.�

I consider then shake my head slightly. Even if she would be good backup, running to her for every little problem is getting old. Her sending me to Saimon and Lord Braxton was a pretty clear indication that she expects me to take care of things myself to some extent. And while political maneuvering in a place I don�t know might be a little much, violence is something I do know.

Very, very well.

�Understood.� I glance at Ali, at our projected course, then flick my hands at him. �Go ahead. Get me the lay of the land, will you?�

Ali nods and disappears from normal visual view, floating through the car and zooming ahead. As he does so, I feel him reaching into my inventory, pulling out drones, and dropping them behind in our flight path. Setting up fallback positions for when things go wrong.

Paranoid?

Me?

Not at all.

***

The aircar drops to the ground, floating to a stop in the middle of a courtyard complex. Multi-story-high buildings float around us, each decorated with gold effigies and sculptures of the various alien races that make up the Empire. I say float, because the ground floor is bare, the entire complex held aloft by anti-gravity mods. Walkways, glowing with power and contained by force shields, lead between the building complexes in an intricate cat�s cradle, leaving me to eye the numerous sniping points distrustfully as I step out of the vehicle. The aircar drops the rest of the way with a slight thump, turning itself off and stranding me.

More important than the lack of transportation are the individuals awaiting my arrival. A half dozen robed and dressed Erethrans, all of them flanking a rather recognizable figure. Spuryan Chaiwan, the Prophet of the cult or religion. Or philosophical party. I�m not sure which is more appropriate. Or, truthfully, what the difference is at times.

Spuryan looks similar to the image I�ve seen. Coral ears embellished, shiny and filled with jewelry. Smooth skin, robes that gleam yellow and gold, enchantments twisting the Mana around him. After all this time, I�ve learned to read the way enchantments affect the Mana flow around them, the way they twist and shift depending on their guided uses. These are defensive enchantments, movement boosters, and a few shields for the most part. Just ways of letting him escape potential sticky situations.

Does it make me a bad person that I�m already charting out the Skill uses I need to stop him? When he�s offered no violence?

�Paladin,� Spuryan says, walking forward to greet me.

A trio of his people follow, each of them sternly daring me with their gazes to try something. Worse than their baleful regard is that they�re Combat Classers. One�s got a civilian offshoot of the Erethran Honor Guard bodyguard build. The other two are pure smash-and-grabbers. Further back, even more attendants hang by and watch, the attendants a wide range of races though, as always, the Erethrans dominate.

�Thank you for being willing to speak with me,� he adds.

�Didn�t really get a chance to say no, did I?� They keep coming, closing the distance, and I hold up my hand when they�re about five feet away. �That�s close enough.�

I see a flash of irritation on Spuryan�s face, even as my resistances ping. I grunt, feeling his Auras press down on me. It�s not that powerful, not like the Queen�s. But it�s noticeable. And unique, in the ability to wrap two Auras around one another.

�Certainly. We wouldn�t want you to be uncomfortable. We are here just to speak,� Spuryan says, then tilts his head from side to side. �I do wonder�where is your Companion? The redoubtable Spirit.�

�Ali�s out scouting,� I say, telling him the truth. It�s not as if they couldn�t figure out that one themselves. Not with the ever-increasing amount of automated drones and linked firepower showing up.

�Such precautions aren�t necessary.�

�Well, tough. If you didn�t want me to do that, you should have tried calling and asking first.�

�We would, but we�re not exactly�� Spuryan seems to search for the word. �In favor. There were concerns that our requests would be blocked.�

I can see how that�d happen, but it�s a lie too. Because they could have sent it via the Shop and broken through any blocks with enough Credits or Mana. No, they wanted to have this conversation out here, in their place of power. To throw me off just a little. Or maybe just to get in the first word before the others have a chance to pitch themselves. I wonder how much analysis they�ve done of how I�d react.

My silence seems to embolden them, for Spuryan continues. �We wanted you to see a part of us, the reality of the Reluctant Survivors and not the lies that they tell you.�

I almost want to point out that I�ve yet to hear of them from others but decide against it. Better to stay silent and keep him speaking. To see where the lies lie.

�We are no cult, no subversive organization. What we want is the best for our society, for our people. Unmitigated expansion, the wars that we fight, those only bring blood and tears. The loss of our people. Unending war with other sapients is not the only way to Level.� The words flow with well-rehearsed cadence, the phrases resounding with passionate conviction. He sounds like a television evangelist or an auctioneer, so rehearsed with his words that he can brush past your initial objections and assault your better senses before you know it.

Each word, each sentence comes with a flash of a notification, the thrill and a jolt of pleasure as his Skill cuts through my defenses partially, dropping serotonin direct into my body.

�I�m not going to argue with the idea that war is bad, but it seems to me saying it and changing an entire Empire are two different things. Sort of like teaching people to eat less,� I say.

My last sentence gets a bunch of puzzled looks. System-enabled worlds have much less of an issue with obesity, since most high-Level individuals burn more calories than they can hope to intake. Without Mana boosting their bodies, they�d wither and die. It�s why Technocrats who leave System-enhanced space are often extremely low-Leveled, or have attributes dedicated to non-physical stats.

�There is much to do, for certain. Changing an entire culture is not simple. But we can do it if we all work together,� Spuryan says, waving his arms to encompass the buildings. �Look. Look at your map. See how many have already chosen another life, another way of living that does not require blood to be spilt endlessly. And these are but a small portion of those who believe in us, in our cause. We need only a chance, an opportunity to allow those who dare not speak up to do so. To enforce the change that we need.�

�Interesting choice of words.� I look up, eying the hundreds of dots that make up the compound. I wonder how many of them have guns pointed at me. How many of them are here by choice. �But that�s a pretty good pitch. Does leave the question, how do you expect to Level up otherwise?�

�Internal development. Increased investment for city dungeons, exploration of the Forbidden Zones. Additional exploitation of the Dungeon Worlds. And the development of new Dungeon Worlds�uninhabited of course,� Spuryan details his plans with ease.

�I thought you couldn�t do Dungeon Worlds without inhabitants?�

�Incorrect. It is more difficult, since the System needs a sufficient number of sentient personnel to provide the linchpin for its start. It is possible however, with the right seed population inserted beforehand,� Spuryan says.

�Seed pop��

I don�t get any further. Tests. So many tests. I see the way they�ve tried to do it beforehand, the various methods the Galactics have tried. Tests by the Questors, by the Galactic Council, by kingdoms and other groups on the down-low. All trying to find ways to make more Dungeon Worlds, to gain access to the resources a Dungeon World creates and slow down the progress of the Forbidden Zone. Ways to skirt around the System, around the Galactic Council, around the notice of their enemies.

Tests. Not a dozen, not a hundred, but thousands. Spread over the course of the entire life of the System, from when it first began to now.

Tests. And deaths, failures, the way the System reacts�badly�to manipulation.

I watch worlds burn, intelligent beings warp. I read the reports of how once-sapient creatures become twisted, distorted nightmare versions of themselves. Lycanthropes, shifters, chimera� even more unspeakable monsters, like the Galactic equivalent of the wendigo.

�Paladin?� Spuryan says, as races scream and the System strips scientists of their Classes, offering them new ones in my mind�s eye.

I�ve seen myself a couple of times when the information comes crashing in. Having a friend like Ali means that I get to see recordings of my most humiliating moments all too often. On occasion, when he thinks I�m getting too big for myself, he�ll pop up a window of his �Boy-o highlights.�

When the data unfolds, when my mind is taken over, my face twitches, my eyes flicker and go dark, and during the worse times, I might even get a nosebleed. Once, my eyes themselves bled. Even if the entire download, the data unfolding takes only a few seconds, the process of analysis, of understanding might last longer. And it is disconcerting to come back to myself, to the physical world of aliens and pain, after leaving a mental one of pain and twisted studies.

�And you think you know the right numbers?� I say, ignoring the puzzled looks, the question to ask my own.

�We are not certain, not yet. But there are a large number of volunteers within my apostate who would be willing to go. For the greater good. We will learn the correct numbers.�

He�s given the wrong answer, acting as if I wouldn�t know the truth of it all. No surprise. I don�t think there�s anyone in this world�other than maybe a few top-level Questors�who understands what he�s really suggesting.

After all, there have been successful attempts. Two, to be exact.

The first lasted all of four thousand years before the Mana Density grew too great and the planet was lost. The other lasted for a year before the System stopped flooding the world with Mana. Now the planet lies vacant, a perverted and rotten parody of a Dungeon World. Too much Mana within it to be a normal, residential planet. Too few resources and too much unsynchronized, uninitiated Mana to be a Dungeon World.

In the end, Mana is all around us. It�s what makes the System work. But it�s also what makes the System break down. Because there are two types of Mana, in a way. The unmarked, unaspected, uninitiated Mana that has never gone through the System. And the Mana that has passed through it, whether through sapient creatures or monsters. Mana that is marked, encoded, and thus useful to the System.

Understanding that little bit, understanding the differences in Mana gave me a huge jump in my System Quest. The realization that the Mana available in the city, that can be used to make a city a Safe Zone, the controls put in place all come from the sapient members of a city and the monsters slain is important. Everything the System does, it can only do because of this marked Mana. Unfortunately, this marked Mana slowly degrades, becoming unaspected and unSystemized after a period of time. Worse, monsters only mark Mana after a while, as they Level, and it only releases when they die. So there�s a balance to be struck between murdering them and letting them grow. And, like the Forbidden Worlds, there�s always more unmarked Mana arriving.

That�s why we have Forbidden Worlds. Because at a certain point, we aren�t able to handle the flow of Mana anymore. Even the System�s last-minute controls, the explosion of monsters that precede the start of the loss of a world isn�t enough.

In the end, the System is a means of control for Mana. That, I am certain of now. But who made it, how they made it, why they made it? And, perhaps just as important, where all this Mana is coming from and what it is? Those are still unknown.

�Boy-o! Stop drifting off,� Ali calls.

Unfortunately, ever since Feh�ral dumped the library in my head, this has been happening more and more. I don�t know if it�s my mind compensating for the information or the fact that I feel�I know�that I�m so close to the answer.

�My apologies. Just thinking about your answer. If you want me to believe you, then I have a request.� I offer Spuryan a smile, curious to see if he bites. I let my gaze track upward, checking out the glowing walkways that hang above me, the lit-up buildings around us. Looking for attackers.

�Of course, anything you want.� Spuryan glances backward to where his bodyguards stand and pauses. �At least, if my bodyguards allow it. You understand, of course.�

�I doubt they�ll worry about this. You can leave.� I smile wider, flicking my gaze to the three guards. �Because the person I want to speak with isn�t you. As you said, you�ve got hundreds of people here. Let me speak with them.�

�About?� Spuryan looks puzzled but not worried. I wouldn�t be either. I�m assuming the people here are the most committed of his cult.

�About you. About your beliefs and what you intend for us all. Let me talk to them, let me see how it works in reality.�

�It will be poor example, when we are forced to live as we are, forced to adjust our vision to the society that hates us.� Spuryan says, already making excuses. �But if you wish it.�

�I do.�

Spuryan nods, gesturing not behind him, not at his bodyguards, but at a couple of others in attendance. They walk forward, crossing the grounds to stop a short distance away from me, closer even than Spuryan himself. I let them come, figuring they�ll be my guides. The pair are a male and female, one an Erethran, the other a female Yerrick of shorter stature.

�I could come with you, if you wish. You are a somewhat intimidating presence,� Spuryan says.

�Don�t bother. You can go. I�ll even make my own way home.� I flash the cult leader a grin, gesturing at the pair of attendants. �They will more than do.�

When Spuryan opens his mouth to speak, I dismiss him by turning on my heels and walking toward the nearest floating entry chute to the buildings that surround us. I watch through Ali�s eyes as Spuryan�s face twitches in annoyance before he gestures for the attendants to follow me.

Yeah, turning my back on the cult leader was a bad idea. But if there�s one thing I�ve learned, it�s when passions are high, when people are angry, that�s when you find out who they really are. Not the face they show you, the mask we all wear to get by in our daily lives, but who we really are. The lines that we draw, the things that anger us, they tell more about who and what we believe in than any kind words or mealy-mouthed social talk could ever do.

What we will fight for is the truest guide of the inner self there is.

***

One of the first things I noticed about this residence / manufacturing hub / Artisan Center and religious building is that it�s just as decorated on the inside as the outside. Pictures, moving video wallpapers, and statues abound, even in the hallways that lead to the individual rooms. They all depict Spuryan�s utopian society where races�Erethrans, Yerrick, Grimsar, and more�Combat Classers, and Artisans work together in blissful, brightly colored harmony. Happy, content, beaming faces stare back from the glowing paint and holographic images. All strangely content�even the ones battling the monsters on the outskirts of the sprawling, green-and-purple cities.

Getting the floor plans for the building from my attendants is simple enough. Comparing it to the floor plan that Ali has managed to acquire shows that they aren�t hiding anything. No hidden floors or secret rooms where they build plagues or bombs. At least not in the first couple of floors we check out.

The bottom floors are all social locations. Living rooms, social loungers, large kitchens in cafeterias dominate the layout, with the addition of a few land-based garages for vehicles that run on the ground. There are even some training rooms, for those violently inclined. Above the social floors are workshops, individualized and equipped for various professions. Surprisingly, many of those workshops aren�t empty, even at this time of night.

�And you�ve been working for them for how long?� I asked the elderly Erethran Artisan whose workshop we�ve invaded.

The workshop is barebones, all nanoformed steel tables and workbenches and covered cupboards. They�re all protected, built to withstand the occasional catastrophic failure. Each workshop is roughly ten by ten�good enough for a single worker, but not much more. It�s also relatively neat, since storing movable equipment in one�s inventory ensures it doesn�t get destroyed.

The Artisan was working on a drone, putting it together from the ground up. Using materials crafted in other nearby workshops, melding them together with blueprints. There�s a degree of specialization involved, but not as much as you�d think. If a person can make a computer chip, they can just as easily make it for large drone vehicles or planetary destroyers. The Skills transfer over, especially when you can download the knowledge and blueprints from the System with enough Credits.

�Eleven passages of the planet nights now, your justice.� The artisan refuses to meet my eyes, mumbling his answers. He�s not the first I�ve spoken to, all of them happy enough to talk, but offering little divergent information.

�You like working here?�

�I build drones, your justice.� He gestures to the drone he was building. �Civilian market, delivery drones. It�s good work.�

That too is normal. Nearly all the Artisan work goes to the civilian market, with a small number going directly to the Reluctant Survivors� own monster hunting team. They try to extract themselves from the military industrial complex as much as possible. Or at least, that�s what they�re telling me.

�Ali, do we have stats to show they�re telling the truth?�

�How the hell would I know? I can look it up later��

�Do so.�

�That�s great,� I say. �You find it rewarding?� I get a nod for that. I try again. �You have family? Someone you care about in the complex?�

�Yes, your justice. Two wives and six spawn.� For the first time, a trace of pride.

�And how do they like living here?�

�Well enough. We have food, shelter, safety from the monsters. My spawn enjoy playing with the other children. It�s a good community, though there�s not enough purple.�

I frown at the last, trying to figure out if it means anything. A flicker in my mind as data downloaded comes to the rescue. Cultural saying, mostly to deal with the color of the greenery. As our version of green, their desire for more forests and open areas. I keep trying to get him to relax and just chat but give up after a few minutes and move on as the Artisan grows increasingly uncomfortable.

My high Charisma stat might be useful for intimidating and scaring people, for forcing my Aura on others. But it�s not as useful for being the sociable huckster. That just isn�t me, and the System seems to agree, having grown my attribute in other ways. In the end, I give up and move on.

It doesn�t matter where I go, how deep I head into the residence, knocking on doors and chatting with people. I get deference, smiles, and polite invitations in to chat, even from those who wake up grumpy. Fear, hidden within courtesy. Uncertainty, the same kind you get when speaking to a police officer back on Earth. I get nowhere, not talking to them at least.

Not directly.

But I persist.

For I have other Skills. Eye of Insight is always on, alerting me when someone is actively using Skills to lie to me. Purchased knowledge about body language and my higher Perception allow me to pick out mundane cues for when people are lying or just shading the truth on a mundane level. Most aren�t lying. No more than normal people do. Mostly around questions like, are you happy?, do you like it here?, and the like. For most people, there�s always a level of uncertainty, of concern and doubt when asked a question like that. Most people have that niggling sense of doubt that comes from living an unfulfilled life. Of believing that it could be better.

Sapient creatures just aren�t very good at being happy.

More useful is Society�s Web. I watch the lines radiating from people, how they twist and thrum as they speak. How they connect and interconnect between individuals within the building. At first, I follow lines, verifying the information I get. Following up with questions on different groups that lie throughout the entire complex. Then I start veering away, finding different clusters, different social groups. All to corroborate the picture I�m developing.

Have to admit, I�m rather impressed. When the attendants shoot me a questioning looks, I realize I�ve spoken that out loud. I give them a smile and don�t elaborate.

It�s been nearly four hours of walking back and forth, bothering people in the middle of the night. Eventually, I walk out the complex, waving goodbye to the attendants and dismissing them. Not that they leave, watching my departing back as I walk toward the city. I start composing a note to Saimon to get my Portal pass approved. All the while, I�m waiting for the public aircar I�ve called to arrive.

I stay silent, keeping my thoughts to myself until I�m picked up. I even stay silent when Ali returns from picking up all our toys. We stay silent, floating through the air, until we make it back to our residence. That�s where Mikito and Bolo are waiting, no longer at the ready for potential trouble, but too high-strung to go back to sleep. Instead, they�re training against one another, playing at violence.

I watch for a few minutes, marveling at how Mikito pushes aside Bolo�s huge hammer, deflecting rather than blocking, using her greater speed and precision. She�s gotten better, much better, even in the few weeks that we�ve known him. If my Intelligence increases have been to handle Mana and create vector pathways, to deal with information flow better and to handle the insanity of war, hers seems to have been focused on her skills. She improves her martial skills at a rate that is staggering.

I sometimes wonder if it�s a conscious choice.

Studies from the library indicate that there is a little bit of conscious variation in our development of attributes. But just as much, there�s an unknown factor, the System�s influence, that even multiple and exhaustive tests have yet to uncover. Oh, there are hypotheses�but none of them have been definitive. There�s no rhyme or reason why an accountant can suddenly play musical instruments, find perfect pitch in a song while increasing his attributes. Or why a Combat Classer can do high-level mathematical formulas, complex equations involving six-dimensional math without touching a calculator. There are hypotheses that in those cases, the System isn�t building the capacity for us, but for itself.

Though why it needs the capacity, why a sapient can pick out the addition of a flake of salt from a spoonful of soup is a question no one has an answer to.

The pair notice my presence soon enough, pausing in their play. And it is play, for they aren�t using their Skills. At least, not any active ones. Breathing just a little hard, they stroll over to me, weapons over their shoulders, almost mimicking one another. It makes me smile. Harry, seated inside the building, comes out as well, obviously not interested in watching them. I�m sure he�s got more than enough footage of them.

�How�d it go?� Bolo says. �We need to lay down the hurt?�

�Aren�t you some kind of Lord, noblesse oblige and all that?� I reply.

The Dragon Lord looks puzzled until his face clears up as the information download on our culture clarifies it for him. Sometimes, the data isn�t fully integrated. It�s decent most of the time, but English and its random borrowing of other words from other languages can trip it up.

�Not that kind of Lord. Anyway, I was never very good at diplomacy,� Bolo replies. There�s a flash, a quick change in his face, the memory of something darker crosses it. But then it�s gone, like the passing of the cloud, and he�s focused. �So? What was it like?�

Mikito makes a noise in agreement while Harry raises his hand, beginning to film. I wave my hands at him, indicating for Harry to stop. I know he�s recorded most of my interactions, tapping into my neural link and Hod, using it for his feeds. I don�t mind, because I�m going to make him look for my own information. But what I have to say now, it�s not for public consumption. Not yet.

I take a few moments to turn the house�s privacy screens to maximum. Another second and I turn on my own Skills. Bolo and Mikito replicate my actions, layering their Skills on top of mine. It�s not as effective as the Champion�s power, but it�s better than nothing.

�What did you think, Harry?� I ask. He�s the most used to watching, interviewing others. Whether in this world or the previous one, he has experience to draw upon.

�The people you talked to, they were telling the truth. They are, mostly, happy. Some doubts, some concerns, but nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, it�s a little too ordinary, a little too happy. There�s some nervousness when talking to you, but that�s not uncommon when speaking to Your Justice.� Harry says all this while his gaze focuses slightly off, as if he�s looking at notification screens we can�t see.

�Anything else?�

�Not exactly my area of expertise, but a lot of the answers were a little too rote. Whenever you touched on their leadership, they were a little too enthusiastic. Not because they�re being forced to say it. I�d say they�re all true believers.� There�s a little hesitation in Harry�s voice, probably because he�s straying into speculation.

�Cult?� Mikito jumps right to the point.

�Close enough. Are social movements cults?� I shrug. I�m sure a sociologist could tell the difference between people really believing in something and a mind-washed, brainless mass. But that line is way too fine for me to cut. �That entire location was a setup. A lot of them don�t really live there. There are too many ties, too many strings attaching them to other locations. Spuryan dragged all of them over to make a perfect little location for me to visit.�

Bolo frowns at my revelation.

�I don�t know if he really thought I was that dumb,� I say. �Spuryan must know of my Skill, must know that I probably would have guessed he was putting on an act. So I don�t know what the point was. Either that or he really underestimates me.�

�Not the first person, boy-o,� Ali points out. �Your history is rather rife with �Beacon first, ask questions never� episodes.�

Mikito and Harry cannot help but smile, making me even more annoyed. I�m not that much of a barbarian.

�Any idea what his goal was in the end?� I ask the group.

�Lie or not, that was still a few thousand people who truly believe in his cause. And by all indications, even if he doesn�t have billions of true believers, it�s still a substantial number. The siren call of not being at war is powerful, even in a militaristic society like this,� Harry offers. �Maybe he was just trying to make you see it. Maybe he�s hoping you agree with him.�

�Foolish,� Bolo says. �Even at home, we fight. Monsters mostly, but we do leave to find other sapients. Adventurers, Guilds, and corporations come to our domain, thinking they can exploit us, exploit our land, our dragons. Levels are needed, and fighting others provide the best kind of experience.�

I consider Bolo for a time. What I know of his world, I�d almost have thought he�d lean toward Spuryan�s belief. After all, his people spend their days and nights fighting dragons and taming them. There just aren�t that many civilizations around their world anymore. Not with it located in the Forbidden Zone.

�You do what you must, especially if Legendarys are targeting you,� Bolo explains.

I can�t help but nod. Over the years, the negative of the Erethrans� constant need to go to war, to expand is that they�ve made a number of enemies. Including individuals who started out as nothing more than an Advanced Class and grew their Levels over the years. Or just ran away to Level and came back with a vengeance.

Now, they�ve got a couple of high-Level people gunning for them, though none of them are Legendaries.

Yet.

It�s a constant spiral as the Erethrans rush ahead, trying to up their own Levels, to find their enemies and end them before they become too strong. Of course, when that fails, they help their enemies gain Levels and hurt themselves. Or they create even more enemies by hurting others. And so, it keeps circling. They�ve become their own Heavenly Sky.

Problem is, the other option is� well. Bad.

Because the histories are full of groups who haven�t chosen to Level, who have chosen to try to be nice and look internally, and most of those end up destroyed. By those who want power, by the System failing on them.

�So you think this was just the initial pitch?� The group offer tentative nods, and I sigh and run a hand through my hair. �That means we can expect the others too.�

�Very soon. They won�t like the fact that they�ve been pushed behind,� Ali adds.

I can�t help but sigh again. Just another thing to look forward to. Never mind that we still have to train some idiots. Suddenly, I feel exhausted by what�s coming. I stare at the ceiling and shake my head.

Time for bed. The problem of picking a new Empress and training a bunch of idiots is a future John problem.

Chapter 9

�Are you joking?� Magine�s incredulous tone is reward enough for me. Not that he�s the only one looking a bit thrown by my latest pronouncement.

�Nope. We have the budget, so all of your requests have been approved.� Yeah, I might be smirking a little. �Put together a training plan for how you can integrate the new equipment and new Skills. I don�t believe it would be a good idea for you to grab them all at once, so prioritize those that make the most sense and have the longest integration period. Any questions?� I don�t even let them answer before waving them off. �Get me the training information by noon today. I expect you all to be buying your Skills by the end of day. Or equipment. Though I understand there might be some recommendations coming down on those. I might hold off on that, just a little.�

The group hangs around, not moving, confused by my abrupt pronouncements.

I clap my hands together, dragging their attention back. �Well, come on. Get moving.�

Some of them leave immediately, but Gheisnan hesitates before he speaks. �What if we have additional suggestions or changes we might want to make? To our requests.�

�And why would you have those?� I ask almost teasingly.

Gheisnan wilts beneath my gaze, ears flattening against his skull as he refuses to answer me.

On the other hand, Anayton speaks up, hands on her hips. �Because none of us actually thought you�d get us the Skills. We thought this was just another test. So we hedged things, putting everything that we thought you thought we needed.�

Almost, I consider telling them that they should have trusted me. That it�s a little too bad if they didn�t. But that would be petty. And self-destructive. One of the things I�m trying to build are Paladins who can make their own decisions. Which means choosing their own builds. With some assistance.

�Send us your revisions by the end of the day,� Mikito says while I ruminate being naughty.

Gheisnan shoots her a grateful smile while Anayton sniffs disparagingly in my direction. Even the others who had started leaving have turned around, hesitating over our confrontation, listening in. I can�t help but chuckle in dire amusement.

As they walk away, I look at Ali. �Make sure to mark every change. We�ll have to go over it, make sure they aren�t buying any nukes or the System equivalent. Just because I�m giving them a blank check doesn�t mean I have to do it the stupid way.�

Ali opens his mouth to comment then shuts it. It�s probably a little too easy, even for him.

�So what now?� Bolo asks me when the group disperses. �More training?�

�Nope.� I grin. �We do the same.�

�Even me?� Bolo looks surprised.

�It seems that real Paladins had support staff. And those support staff could draw from the budget too.�

Every word I say makes Bolo�s and Mikito�s grins grow even wider, then they make sure again that I�m not joking. When they get my confirmation, they dash off, headed to the Shop or library to figure out what other Skills to purchase. I expect Bolo will cost me the most.

On that note�

�Where�s the nearest Shop?�

***

The entrance to the yellow-themed Shop is via the spherical System-orb located a short distance away. It�s not the main settlement Shop orb, but a secondary linked one, but it makes little difference. Before I leave, I make sure to let Harry know I�m in need of his services to search out information on the contenders. As good as Ali has gotten at this kind of work, Harry�s got his own skillset.

I�m teleported into the Shop only to be met by Foxy. The humanoid fox creature is dressed in a dapper set of robes, reminiscent of African colored robes, thrown over both shoulders rather than the Roman toga style. He sways over to me, bushy tail waggling, and I find myself smiling in greeting. Foxy�s one of my oldest friends in a way, even though, in some ways, he�s not really a friend so much as a good� hairdresser? Huh. I�m reaching for an equivalent designation.

�Foxy. Good to see you,� I say. �I�ve got a challenge for you.�

�Oh?�

�A near unlimited budget and a rather difficult task.� I watch Foxy�s eyes glitter with avarice at the first part, then dim with caution at the second. �Skills and equipment upgrades. For me.�

That makes Foxy frown. He turns his head side to side before he eventually says, �You must understand, to do that, we will require��

�Bullshit. You guys already know.� I smirk. �Most of what I�ve bought has come right from here. And my current Status Screen is something you can see already, no?�

The fox grows still as he processes my accusation. I see the gears spin in his head before he finally inclines his head, acknowledging my guess. �Yes. Your equipment is powerful, but in here��

�You have the advantage. So. Put together a buy list.�

�We do need to ask a few questions��

�About what kind of build?� I nod. �Limit reductions on regeneration. I expect in the future, I�ll be in more slugfests against Master Classers and higher. So survivability and ability to win are paramount. That might mean burst attacks.�

�Obviously.�

�Some Skills or equipment�preferably equipment�to increase my stealth capabilities. And more versatility would be good,� I say. �Upgrades and abilities to alter my equipment or keep them in working order in the field would be useful.�

�Ah. I might have to caution you on that one�� Foxy says, raising his hand.

�The Skill-Mental ratio limit? I know it. Aim for the median resistance,� I say.

�If you wish, we do have access to Class Skill Testers who might be able to verify your limits with better accuracy,� Foxy says.

�Really? Hmm�� I consider, trawling through my mind for data on Skill Testers.

They�re a weird off-shoot of general Class Advisors, individuals who focused on testing aptitude for various Classes. Mostly, they were used before an individual met the age of majority, but they also had a side-line set of Skills for those hitting the higher edge of Classes in the Advanced and Master Class stage. There, they tested for the Skill-Mental ratio limit.

There�s no direct correlation in the Skill-Mental ratio�like, you can have ten Skills outside of your Class for every hundred points of Intelligence and Willpower. It�s more that one�s mental attributes form a pool of potential Class limit points. But each non-Class Skill uses a number of those limit points and adding too many such Skills eats into that limit.

Of course, that limit isn�t a hard limit. And the number of points is unknown�again, because Intelligence and Willpower grow in different directions depending on the individual. On top of that, Classes by themselves limit or expand those limit points. Even when you �expand� all the points and overburden yourself with the Skills, there�s almost no perceptible difference to the Skills themselves when they�re activated. Instead, what happens is a lag in the non-Class Skills activation rate.

I kind of imagine it like a computer. There�s core programming�the Class Skills�that are saved to a solid state hard drive (SSHD). Super fast access, guaranteed to work without a problem. And non-Class Skills end up being stored on the same SSHD for the most part. However, at a certain point, those additional non-Class Skills get to be too much for your SSHD and you off-load them to a cloud computing server. For the most part, it doesn�t mater�but occasionally you get a lag.

Obviously, that�s a problem when you�re in the middle of a fight.

Less of an issue if you�re an Artisan. All that being said, it�s why Legendarys don�t bother purchasing multiple Legendary Class Skills. Or Heroics, other Heroic Skills. A single non-Class Skill of that kind can force all your other purchased Class Skills into remote use. And since most Legendarys or Heroics specialize in their Class for a reason, it makes more sense to stay with what you know and can use.

That�s the other part of the equation. While you get the Skill via the Shop�along with the understanding of how to use the Skill�you don�t get the side benefits of a Class Skill like automatic integration and understanding. Not to say you don�t still have to train your Class Skills, but it�s much easier to do so and doesn�t require as many uses. If you have to test, say, the ability to create a blackhole, the lack of automatic integration can be quite troublesome.

The obvious workaround is to only buy Artisan and passive Combat Skills, forcing the System to keep the passive Skills �loaded� at all times. Unfortunately, that brings its own problems�outside of the obvious decrease in Mana Regeneration�as the Corrupt Questors have found out.

�Sounds good. Set the meeting up with the Testers. I don�t want to overload,� I say.

Foxy flashes me a grin and chivies me over to a private room while he arranges for a Skill Tester to port in. In the meantime, I get to window browse, idly wondering what kind of Skills I should be purchasing. The room I�m in is quite bare except for a lounging chair and a meal dispenser. Both of which I make full use of.

�What do you think, Ali? What should I get?� I ask, staring at the numerous windows I�ve pulled up. Some list my own Class Skill Trees, others show a list of Skills from other Classes, and another a searchable feature by type of Skills.

�Well, added damage, added ability to survive, and escape options come to mind,� Ali ticks off on his fingers. �Socially, you�re actually pretty set. It�s not as if you�re the kind to lead armies or anything, so there�s no need for equipment or Skill alterations to your build. You can tell when someone�s lying. Maybe something to help you lie better?� Ali shrugs. �Then again, anything you can buy at the Advanced Level won�t be that useful in the world we deal with.�

I grunt. That�s the biggest issue for my build. Due to the way I skipped the Basic Class, as far as the System cares, I�m still only Advanced Class�so I can only buy that high up in the Shop. It significantly limits what I can purchase, especially since it makes little sense to pick up things that would harm my Mana Regeneration in passives at the Advanced Level. After all, it just won�t be as good as what my enemies might have. If I�m purchasing a Skill that increases my damage by 50% because it�s an Advanced Skill, it still isn�t as useful as a Master Class Skill of the same kind that increases shield health by 100%. And since, Mana for Mana, my Advanced Skill would cost more, I�d be running a negative.

At least on the numbers side. But that�s where buying the equivalent of a burst damage Skill makes more sense. If I can increase the damage done by a single attack, and use it selectively and surprise my opponents, I might be able to bypass or overpower their defenses. Point for point, burst damage Skills are more powerful than their passive counterparts.

Which is why added damage spells are my best bet. Increased resistance Skills might be useful, but then I�d have to either buy a general Skill that wasn�t as powerful or multiple Skills that targeted a single element resistance. Which, in itself, is a problem. Fine if you knew what you were fighting, but difficult in a surprise attack, which is what I�d be expecting. So. Generic resistance Skills, since more and more of my opponents have resistance cutting Skills.

Then, running away Skills�

�John?�

�Sorry. Just thinking of escape Skills,� I say.

�And forgetting I was still talking?� Ali says, leaning forward. �You�re doing this too much.�

�I know. Too much data unspooling�� I shudder. �Shit. Tell Foxy to cancel the request.�

Ali takes a fraction of a second to realize the problem. He�s on it the next second, sending out the messages while I wince internally at the mistake I just made. Letting someone do a deep scan of my �partition space� might be a really bad idea. After what was downloaded and off-loaded into me, I�d guess my own Skill limit might be really, really tight.

Or not.

But I can�t risk it. Can�t risk people knowing. Which means�

�Damn. I can�t buy anything, can I?� I say. Because the build I have now, while not great, is at least better than nothing. Having it shifted off-site might cause more problems.

�Equipment,� Ali corrects, flicking his fingers. �We can buy better equipment.�

I grin at the Spirit. True enough. �Tell Foxy. And let�s see what we can figure out.�

And even that much is a danger. But� there�s only so much we can do. Before people start putting things together.

***

We leave the Shop grumpier than when we entered. One of the negatives of buying equipment at my Level is that Master Class equipment doesn�t just hang off the rack. You special order equipment, you put in requests and look out for auctions. And then you hope something shows up in a reasonable timeframe. It�s why things like soulbound weaponry and Legacy weapons are so popular. One grows with you; the other grows all the time and keeps growing. They�re both rarish, though soulbound weapons aren�t impossible to acquire with the right Skill purchase. In fact, most Combat Classers will eventually soulbind a weapon.

The argument of doing so early or late is varied. Early soulbound weapons will grow with their users. But due to the limitations on the individual�s Level to bind weapons, you�re limited in the strength of the weapon you bind. On the other hand, binding a powerful weapon at the Master Class stage means you might be able to acquire a soulbound weapon with special Skills, over and on top of the usual strengthening the weapon would undergo. The negative, of course, is that said powerful weapons are hard to acquire and will disappear upon death.

In the end, I walk out of the Shop with nothing more than a slew of one-use items that will be useful for the short-term. Or at least, I hope they will.

F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal Grenades (Tier I)

The F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal

Grenades not only disperse Mana in the battlefield, the Ghostlight Dispersal Grenades degrade all Mana Skills and spells within their field of effectiveness. Used by Krolash the Destroyer, the Erethran Champion Isma (prior version), and Anblanca Special Forces. Five times Winner of the Most Annoying Utility Item on the Battlefield.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates, Skill, and spell formation use in affected area by 67% (higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 15m^3^

Evernight Darkness Orbs

When the world goes light, the Evernight Darkness Orbs will bring back blessed darkness. If you need darkness, you need Evernight!

Effect: Removes all visible light and mutes infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths by 30%

Radius: 50m^3^

Seven Heavenly Spire Wards

Quick to set up, the Seven Heavenly Spire Wards were crafted by the Thrice-Loved Bachelor�s Temple of the Sinking Domain as their main export. Using the total prayer and faith of the temple, they produce a set of wards every month to ensure annoying pests and ex-girlfriends are kept out.

Effect: Creates a 30� by 30� defensive ward; protects against both magical and technological attacks and entry

Simple enchanted protection wards that can be thrown up nearly anywhere I want. Matched with my usual array of force shields, they can make for a temporary redoubt when needed. Not that I expect to need them, but you never know. The nice thing about the wards is that they�ll protect against a number of magical methods of ingress�something the force shields often don�t. Heck, even semi-technological methods of ingress and escape�like Lightwalk and Shadowform�get blocked by the Wards.

Fumikara Mobile Teleport Circles

These one-off use mobile teleport circles allow connection to existing and open teleport networks.

Effect: Connect to open teleport networks within a 5,000 km radius of the teleport circles. Allows teleportation of individuals to the networked teleport centers

On top of that, other than the single-use items, I bought a slew of Mana potions and Healing potions conditioned for reuse. I also put in an order for specialized potions, ones geared for me and my Status. They�ll reduce the potion effectiveness disintegration level, making sure I can use more potions. I wanted a replacement for my Mana Storage Bracelet, but they had nothing better on-hand. Anything else has to be special ordered, so that�s on the pile of things to get fixed. Ditto with a replacement for my emergency Force Shield ring.

And of course, the prize of my shopping trip.

PoenJoe Goleminised-Mana Generator Mark 18

The latest Mana Generator by the infamous PoenJoe, the Mark 18 is guaranteed* to not blow up on you in optimal conditions. This partially sentient Mana Generator can extract up to 98% of a Mana Crystal�s saved energy in 0.003 seconds. Currently loaded with an Adult Kirin Mana Core.

Effect: It�s a Power Generator. Guaranteed to provide up to 98 x 10^99^ Standard Galactic Mana Units

*Not actually guaranteed. In fact, we�re 100% certain that containment failure will occur.

It�s actually a settlement Mana Generator, meant to be used to power an entire settlement about the size of Vancouver. Pre-Apocalypse that is. A million households using Mana for all their needs would easily be fed by the Mana Generator. The ability to increase the draw on the Mana Core is�theoretically�meant to allow the Shield Generator to withstand even fleet-level bombardment. Or the attack of another Heroic Level Combat Classer.

I say theoretically, because its creator�PoenJoe�is just a little insane. The child of a Legendary and Heroic Classer pair, he�s infamous for his desire to create machinery that can withstand his parents� loving touch. Even in their old age, their abilities are so high that his work constantly crumbles. And rather than take the time to build things right, he cobbles these things together, ever intent on drawing more power, more Mana.

With explosive results.

Luckily, System Inventory puts the entire thing into stasis. So I can carry it around, half-turned on, without it causing any issues. His Mana Generators are a lot cheaper than an actual System-enabled tactical nuke�or the System-damage equivalent�and less restricted. Undestroyed examples of PoenJoe�s work are so uncommon, not everyone knows of him and thus his work isn�t restricted. Yet. It�s only Foxy�s knowledge that got me access to this.

Lastly, I glance down. Hidden beneath my trousers, wrapped around my ankle is the last thing I picked up. It�s an enchanted band with a most interesting Skill.

Payload (Level 2)

Sometimes, you need to get your Skills inside a location. Payload allows you to imbue an individual or item with a Skill at a reduced strength.

Effect: 71% effectiveness of Skill imbued.

Secondary Effect: Skill may be now triggered on a timed basis (max 2:07 minutes)

Uses: 22

Recharge: 10.7 charges per day in SGE

After all our discussion, after browsing through it all, I have to admit, I haven�t bought anything in terms of Skills. Most of what I want, I�ve replaced with equipment, giving me access to the Skills without the concurrent disadvantages. There�s some concern about over-emphasis on enchanted items and their Mana clash, but we were careful to ensure that they won�t cause too much trouble. And, of course, equipment isn�t as fast to trigger or use, or as powerful as an innate Skill. But I�m also about ten Levels away from reaching my next Tier. When that happens, I�ll gain access to Master Class Skills.

Till then, I can hold tight on the major non-Class Skill purchases. Instead, I�ve purchased a couple of new Spells and upgraded a couple of my most lacking Skills. They should, theoretically, not cause issues with the System. At least, as far as I know.

For now, until I gain a few more Levels, maybe even get close to reaching my Heroic Class, I intend to keep the Ring running and hiding my true Level. Changing only that single line is easy�for variations of easy�though recharging the ring in the Shop was expensive. Still, I like the idea of having a little surprise in store, if things go bad.

Drawing a deep breath, I pull up my real Status Screen, reviewing the changes.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Erethran Paladin

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,

Corrupt Questor

Health

4620

Stamina

4620

Mana

4240

Mana Regeneration

364 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

312

Agility

402

Constitution

462

Perception

242

Intelligence

424

Willpower

459

Charisma

180

Luck

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

External Class Skills

Instantaneous Inventory

Frenzy

Cleave

Tech Link

Elemental Strike

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps

Analyze

Harden

Quantum Lock

Elastic Skin

Disengage Safeties

Temporary Forced Link

Hyperspace Nitro Boost

On the Edge

Fates Thread

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Enhanced Particle Ray

Variable Gravitic Sphere

Zone of Denial

Mana Imbue adds damage to my Basic Attacks, which means both my big finishing move�Army of One�and my more normal attacks are more dangerous. I didn�t upgrade it too much due to the effect on my Mana Regeneration, but it was about time to throw some Credits at it. It�s one of those linked Skills that make sense to increase.

The other one I increased was Thousand Blades. Again, it makes Army of One even more powerful due to the way they�re linked, but just as useful, it adds another floating blade for me to play with. The only reason I�ve not added more to it earlier is the difficulty of coordinating their use. Even with my increased Intelligence, the training required to integrate it properly in my fighting style is onerous. However, since I�m about to be training these children, I might as well get some training in myself. One of the biggest advantages of being on Pauhiri is access to the Paladin�s entire subset of training videos and journals, meaning that I should be able to up my fighting game faster.

As for the spells, I�ve mostly purchased them for the future. Gravitic Sphere is perfect in space to slow down attacks or just annoy people. Unlike most spells, it increases in strength the more Mana you throw in; so used properly, I can divert a missile in space or lock down a bunch of annoying initiates.

Zone of Denial, on the other hand, is a damage-over-time spell. Cast on a location, it targets everyone within that location and does damage to them so long as they stay within it. It�s straight Mana damage too, which means it ignores most resistances. It�s not a lot of damage, even if the zone is variable by Mana use. But when taken into a crowded situation, it can be highly useful.

They both cover areas I�m missing�a damage-over-time spell and an area control spell. I considered getting some specialized damage-over-time spells but figured something more generic would be more useful.

Now, I just wonder what those two crazy munchkins are going to come back with. Thanks to the time dilation on my Shop, I�ve got a bit of time to wait. Rather than waste it, I take over a training hall and leave Ali to keep an eye out for Mikito and Bolo while I work on integrating my new blade.

Chapter 10

Mikito finds me first, Bolo taking his time in his Shop. I was a little bit surprised to find that the Dragon Lord doesn�t have a time-compressed Shop of his own, but when questioned during one of the lulls in the battle on Spaks, he muttered something about loyalty and enjoying the broader suite of services. When he started waggling his eyebrows when pressed, I decided to not push the matter. We weren�t that close. Especially back then.

Mikito saunters over and I let my gaze wander over the Samurai. The short Japanese lady has improved her looks in subtle ways as her Charisma stat gets little boosts. Surprisingly, even if she has received the gene therapy upgrade, she had it done such that she stayed much the same. Including her height�or lack of it. I�m not entirely sure why, though I have a feeling it has to do with her pride in her heritage or her dead husband. Some things, you just don�t ask.

As she arrives, I gesture and let the hard light projections disappear. The moving blue figurines I�ve been practicing against fade, leaving the room bare of anything but us. Even the walls are completely smooth, a pale gray that hides the increased durability of the setting.

Mikito stops in front of me and I offer her a smile, glancing upward to check her Status. I�ve found as she leveled her Feudal Bond Skill that my access to her Status Screen increased. These days, I have full access to her Status and limited details about her Skills. No more than general descriptions, but enough so that I know her attributes and Skill set.

I mentioned it to her the last time I realized this happened and the woman just shrugged. I know I�d be weirded out if someone had that much access to my Status. Well, someone who wasn�t a three-foot-tall, pain-in-the-ass creature of pure Mana.

On that note, I take a longer look at my friend.

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden, Junior Arena Champion of Irvina, Arena Champion�Orion IV, Xumis,�; True Bound Honor (Upper Samurai Level 23) (M)

HP: 3641/3641*

MP: 2625/2625*

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo, Feudal Bond, Blitzed, Future Projections

Galactic Reputation: 21

Galactic Fame: 14,327

I almost look deeper into her data but push aside the whim and instead, use my words like a big boy. �So, find anything you liked?�

Mikito�s eyes narrow, her lips sliding into the tiniest hint of a smile. �Just a few.�

She frowns in concentration, then the data slides across to me.

Blitzed (Level 3) (M)

A Messenger can be slowed, they can be delayed, they can be diverted. But they can�t be stopped. And Blitzed makes sure that even those minor inconveniences are over in a flash. Speeding up the existence of the Messenger, Blitzed ensures you�ll never live life in the slow lane. Mana regeneration reduced by 15 permanently.

Effect: Blitzed increases all physical and mental reactions by 120%

Caution: Blitzed increases physical existence speed, making subjective view of passing time significantly higher. A high Willpower and meditation skill is recommended to reduce chance of psychosis.

Future Projections (Level 3) (A)

You never know what might be coming up, without Future Projections. When active, Future Projections allows user to absorb and project potential actions into the future. Perfect for dodging oblivious pedestrians, blind teleports, and the occasional monster spawn.

Effects: Allow future projection of actions 1.2 seconds into the future.

Cost: 60 Mana per minute.

�That�s just wrong,� I mutter.

�He gave you enough trouble. And that Skill�� Mikito shakes her head. �It�s better than anything else I�ve seen.�

�Well, considering speed is his entire build, I�m not surprised,� I say. �Do you have activation problems?�

Mikito raises an eyebrow at me and I realize I never told her. I proceed to explain the issue, eliciting a deep frown from the Samurai. She proceeds to test her Skill and then�just for fun, I assume�her basic Haste Skill on top of it. She literally vibrates when she�s standing still, then flickers to the end of the rectangular room. Thanks to my higher Perception, I can just barely follow her movements�which is still an improvement compared to my experience with the Speedster Master Class. Then again, I wonder if it�s a matter of attributes or her lower total speed.

�How is it?� I ask.

�Still instantaneous activation. But there�s a greater than expected clash between my Skills. I�m not getting the boost I expected. It isn�t as high as I was led to believe,� Mikito says with a deep frown. �Mana cost is as expected though.�

�So your need for speed was a failure?�

I hear her sniff, then she blurs and I don�t manage to duck the light smack on my shoulder. After that, she just keeps blurring, activating movement Skill after movement Skill. She�s got quite a few, from the basic Haste Skill and Flash Step, to her more specialized ones that give her smoothness of movement. After a few minutes of movement, she finally comes to a stop, her Mana nearly drained. She continues to look unhappy, reading information I can�t see before she finally turns to regard me.

�You were training?� As she speaks, she draws Hitoshi, her naginata, and places it over her shoulder.

�Yeah,� I say. �Added another sword.�

�And more Mana to them all.�

�You�re angling for a fight, aren�t you?�

In answer, Mikito flashes me a grin and I groan. Getting my ass kicked is going to suck. But she has a point. Due to the way I�and she�grew in the System, many of our attribute increases seem to really take effect when we�re in battle. Even mock battle is enough. But plain training doesn�t seem to work as well at triggering whatever expanded learning our higher attributes provide us. Which means�

�Just go easy on me,� I say.

�I always do.�

�No, you really don�t.�

All I get in answer to that is a slight smile as she backs off. Not that we�re going to start until her Mana�s full, but the point is taken. I sigh and conjure my own sword, ready to do some forms while I wait. Good training never hurts.

***

I hack out the blood pooling in my lungs, watching it dribble from my lips and out my nose. I clear it off with a swipe of my hands before I stagger to my feet. We�ve been at this for the last couple of hours, hammering away at each other, but this is the first time she�s managed to land that particular attack properly. I glare at the Samurai, who retreated after putting the butt of her polearm into my chest, allowing me to recuperate.

�What was that?� I say hoarsely. I spit again, watching blood dribble out. The attack bypassed most of my defenses, slipping in and damaging my lungs, bursting blood vessels and filling my chest with blood rather than shattering the ribs that protect them. �New Skill?�

�No. A skill.� I can somehow hear the lack of cap on the word, though it doesn�t remove my confusion. �It�s a striking technique that projects the force within. Hard to pull off.�

I grunt and pull up the System logs, skimming through it to find the details of the attack. She�s right�it bypassed nearly half of my resistances, but the actual damage it dealt was lower than her usual total. Of course, because she bypassed my resistances, the net damage was higher.

�Weird,� I say. �Never knew you could do that.�

�There are Skills that work the same. In fact, some Skills are just skills packaged up by the System,� Mikito says. �Sort of like spells and Skills.�

�I guess. That kind of makes sense,� I say.

I don�t really purchase many attack-based Skills, rather relying on more magical or passive Skills. But considering how Cleave seems to be a focus of both Mana and body and Harden is basically an infusion of Mana and a toughening of the body, I can see how they�d be something a dedicated individual could learn.

A part of my mind wants to give me the data, the information, but I manage to wall it off.

If that�s the case�

�Should I be paying more attention to my skills?� I frown.

A long time ago, we dismissed the screen keeping track of that data. Occasionally I poke at it, ending up amused by things like my lip reading or alien body language skills getting an upgrade, but for the most part, I ignore it. As Ali pointed out, the skills are more a reflection of reality than something I can upgrade like my Skills. The screen tracks my progress or regress of skills. It�s not a game where each �level� gives me another 5% attack damage or whatever.

�Aren�t you?� Mikito gestures around us, taking in the combat room. Even as we stand in the barren land, nanobots slowly reweave the scarred and thrashed floor and walls, fixing incidental damage. While neither one of us pulled out the big guns�by mutual agreement�our normal attacks are enough to trash the place.

�Yeah but�� I wave at her. �You�re, you know��

�Better?� Mikito says. �I have decades of experience and the lessons from my grandfather to draw on. And my other teachers, people I learnt from when you were gone.� She puts the butt of her polearm on the floor. �You can get better. You have the talent. But is it what you want?�

�Doesn�t matter what I want, does it?� I grumble. �I always seem to end up in the middle of things.�

�But is it what you want?�

I fall silent as I consider her words. What do I want? Really? Not violence, that�s not really a �want.� It�s just a factor in my life. It�s not helping people, though I do that because that�s what you do. I�m not a bleeding heart like Lara, who has to help people because that�s what she�s built to do. I just can�t look away. Not helping others is a bigger burden than a benefit for me. I don�t even like people thanking me for it.

Which is weird, if you prod at the thought at all.

But it�s not as if I help people because I care about the people. Nor is it because I have a burning desire for justice, for making the world a better place or righting wrongs. The need to �fix� a society or an event. That, I know, drives other Paladins. My mentor for one. Others in their histories. And even some of my initiates. Their need to make sure that the world they live in, their society works. Is fair and balanced for all.

That�s not me. I�m too Chinese, grew up knowing too much history, knowing that corruption and racism and all that crap always happens. It�s a feature, not a bug.

�I�m not sure. An answer, I guess,� I say. Because that�s what it comes down to. The question of the System. Everything else�bounty hunting, saving cities, beating up assholes�are things I do in between reading and learning. Trying to find an answer to the why of it all. �What about you?�

Mikito points her polearm at me instead of answering, indicating she�s ready for the next round. I glare but settle into a fighting stance. She�s been known to attack me even when I refused to play the game.

�Not so easy. I want an answer.�

�Then beat me,� Mikito challenges.

The next moment, she flashes forward. Mikito leads the first pass with a lunge with her naginata. She�s triggered all her Skills, all the ones that allow her to move. And she cheats, using Gi to allow her attack to bypass my hasty block. It floats right over my hovering swords, dodging them by millimeters as I twist my body aside. But Gi is an uninterrupted, unfailing attack.

The curved, elongated blade of the polearm slides through space, popping my Soul Shield like an overextended bubble, and plunges into my chest. It cuts through Hardened skin and reinforced bones, piercing my chest and cooking it as Hitoshi�s body lights up in flame.

I groan, finishing my cut upward, tearing the blade from my body in a splay of blood and a chest-sucking, slurping sound. Burnt flesh and the iron-tang of blood fill the air even as she takes the momentum of my block to spin the polearm around for another cut at my head.

Down. Down low I drop, sliding beneath my own floating weapons, snatching one from the air and cutting sideways at her with it, before dismissing my blade to snatch another. I push forward, stepping close as I begin the blade spin of the Honor Guard.

Five blades, free floating in space, move along the trajectory of the previous motion of the original soulbound blade. Their trajectories alter as I make the original blade appear and disappear, switching hands, switching positions. I fight, throwing cuts, blocking attacks, and launching my own Blade Strikes. The blades cut through the air, sometimes disappearing as I will them gone, sometimes reappearing as I bring them back, darting alongside my body as I attack Mikito.

The Samurai blocks and deflects each attack, her naginata spinning in an intricate dance, moving at such speed that the crack of the sound barrier being broken time and time again resounds through the room. A swirl of air erupts, forced aside by our movements, changing air pressure and creating a mini vortex.

The rush of wind mixes with the ring of metal blades blocked, the spark of ozone as blades clash. The smell of burnt flesh, of healing wounds, of freshly spilled blood swirl past my face, remembrances of our past fight. And the current battle, as cuts and surface wounds accumulate.

I trigger Cleave, swinging down with all my might, almost cutting into her collarbone. She blocks and sags to the floor under the strength of my blow. Her ghostly traditional Samurai armor cracks, shattering around the glowing edge of my blade. Mikito twists her hips and angles her hand, shedding the remnant energy to the side, then uses the same motion to block another swinging blade with the haft of her polearm. A Flash Step pushes her backward, moving her without her using her feet. The blade points at me and Makoto triggers, a beam of power lancing for my torso.

I hop over the attack, dancing across my own blade to continue to close the distance. Never wanting to give her space, a gap in time to recover. Her Stamina is one of her weak points. I pressure her as damage accumulates on both sides, as attacks that I fail to block get through. As Blade Strikes cut across her own blocks or tear away at her translucent defense.

We dance across the room, neither side willing to give up.

In the end, skill and Class win out. She has the advantage over me in terms of total Levels, in terms of a Class geared for solo combat. In terms of skill. I miss a block, get cut, and don�t even see the grapple she set up with the attack, her polearm tangling my arms which she turns into a throw. I land on the floor and the blade sinks into my collarbone, pinning me.

Pain. I struggle not to scream as my flesh burns.

Brown eyes, filled with life and a dark joy, stare down at me. There�s a crazed light there, a need. For a second, I wonder if she�s going to end it, if she�ll trigger a Skill to pile on the damage. She pants over me, hair falling to cover her face, leaving me only to stare into the slitted gaze of her smoky helmet, the flared edges of the curved bell rippling.

Then the blade is yanked out, leaving me curling around my side. It takes a lot to stop from screaming as flesh reknits. I stagger back to my feet, taking a cut from my own still-spinning blades before I dismiss them. And stare at my friend, who has retreated a distance away.

Silence dominates the room as we recover our senses and come down from the fight. And then, two words.

�I win.�

***

We�re seated, resting as I get my Health and Mana back. Nearly ten minutes have passed and I�m back�statistically at least�but there�s a difference between stats and reality. Mentally at least, I�m not in the mood to duel again.

So I sit quietly, doing a light meditation of breathing in and out, letting tension and pain flow out. Finding an equilibrium and grateful that the System seems to ameliorate some of the pain, some of the terror. Not all of it�not even a lot in some cases�but a little. It makes it possible to consider another training session.

In the future.

�Sorry,� Mikito says softly, breaking my reverie.

�Hmmmm?�

�I went too far.� She gives herself a quick shake of the head, her lips pursed in anger and self-recrimination.

�Just a little.� I�m used to my friend being dangerous. Just not necessarily a danger to myself. Especially with her Skills being tied so tightly to me. �What happened?�

Mikito falls silent, not answering me for a long time. Then she slowly speaks. �When it started, I was angry. Upset. I didn�t want to live. I couldn�t die.�

A fist clenches around the polearm, around Hitoshi. The weapon her husband gave up his Classes, his boons for. All to give her a better chance to live. And I understand. The burden of that sacrifice, survivor�s guilt�it can break people. Has broken many.

�Then time passed. And we did good. Killed the aliens. Saved the world.� She shoots me a quelling look when I shift at the last sentence, forcing me to still rather than interrupt her mistake. �The pain lessened. But the anger didn�t. And I was lost. I helped out when you were gone. Fought the monsters. The aliens. They called me the Spear of Humanity, because I was fighting. Always fighting. But� I couldn�t stop��

�You didn�t know what else to do,� I say. I know that feeling. The insanity that creeps up on you, the restlessness, the thoughts of anger and loss. �You can�t stop, can�t stop moving. Can�t let go. Can�t look back. So you keep moving, keep fighting.�

�Yes.� Mikito�s assent is quiet. �You understand.�

�I�m sure others do too.� I remember Therapists, Psychiatrists, and Mind Healers, all offered to us. All available to help people heal, to get better. I even paid for some of those programs. They only work as well as you let them though.

�They did. And didn�t.� Mikito purses her lips, glancing at me sideways. �They don�t� I can�t� letting it go��

I nod. She doesn�t need to say it. Doesn�t need to finish the sentence. And I realize why she�s with me. Because unlike the others, unlike her friends, the other Champions, I won�t push her to get better. To find healing or to make a life for herself in this new world.

I don�t, because I refuse to get better myself.

I can�t let the pain go.

I won�t leave the quest alone.

Some people get over things.

Some of us, we nurse those grudges like fine whisky. Because if we let it go, if we accept it and move on, there might not be anything to move on to.

***

�What?� Bolo walks in on us twenty minutes later, silent and brooding over our losses. His eyes flick over our still forms, narrowing.

�Nothing,� I say, shaking away the darkness. It takes a bit of effort, but I manage. After a while, pain like this isn�t an all-encompassing thing. It�s just the ache in your back, the hitch in your steps�metaphorically speaking. You get used to it, and only once in a while does it slow you down. �What�d you buy?�

Bolo shifts his stance a little and looks awkward. �So. You know. About that��

�Yeah?� I prompt him.

�We never discussed me being here. Or you, you know�� He gestures between himself and us. �I mean, Harry didn�t get anything.�

�He did actually,� I say. At least, I sent him the option, but the reporter was in the city when I did. I�m sure he�ll decide on his buy later, when he�s done filming his �first days in Erethra� episode. Having him wander around getting information and playing reporter is more important. For now.

�Right. But he�s, you know, human.�

�And I�m racist?� I frown. �Speciest? Alienist? The offer�s open to Dornalor when he gets here too. Whenever that happens. In fact, I probably could upgrade his ship�� I trail off, my mind flashing with the implications.

�No!� Bolo snaps. �I meant, he�s your group. You guys��

�Dornalor�s a merc. Well, mostly. I pay him very well and he does what we want,� I say. �One day, I expect he�ll probably leave. Once he�s earned enough. And Leveled.�

�I�m not a mercenary.� Bolo crosses his arm in a huff. Then he freezes, eyes narrowing. �You drake-swapped egg. You�re doing this on purpose.�

I finally crack, breaking into gales of laughter and slapping my leg. I�m too busy chuckling to dodge the compressed air attack that throws me back into the wall. I still don�t stop laughing as I peel myself off the wall and floor.

�Chill. You want in? You�re in.� I gesture to the smiling, cross-legged Mikito then out the door. �This isn�t the Paladins. This isn�t a�� I frown, looking for the word. �Cult. I don�t even own these Credits. So if you want to use it, go ahead.� I shrug. �No skin off my nose. Though I�d like it if you let me know if you�re choosing to leave. I�d have to work out what to do without you.�

�Without me for what?� Bolo says, frowning. �I understand giving the soldiers new Skills. They�ll need some training to integrate them, but that�s not really my Skill set.�

�As if I�d trust you with training. You�d probably squash them like a pancake. That�s not what I need you for. I want to see them in action.� I pause, considering, and add, �And I want to see the kind of world I�m going to be putting them through.�

Mikito frowns, while Bolo grins.

�What?� I eye the grinning Dragon Lord.

�This is going to create chaos, isn�t it?�

I shrug. Bolo laughs, slapping his thigh a couple of times, before turning around and walking out.

�Hey! Where are you going?�

�To buy Skills!� Bolo continues to laugh until his voice is cut off by the closing doors, leaving Mikito and me alone.

The Samurai stands, shaking her head, and levels her polearm at me.

�Nope. I�m out,� I say. A thought has me Blink Stepping over to the door. �Have fun!�

Mikito snorts but lets me run away. Even as I leave, hard light projections of her opponents appear.

Chuckling to myself, I saunter off to do some thinking. Reading. Despooling. Whatever you call dealing with an entire library in your head.

The first steps are taken.

Now, I just have to wait.

Chapter 11

I have to admit, one of the few things I�ve kept with me over the years�through apocalypse and international travel�is my love for food. Good chocolate for certain, but just food in general. And now that I�m in a new alien city�one that doesn�t require me to hide out while finding my prey�I take full advantage of it.

B�oolyn is the equivalent of a three-star Michelin restaurant. The reservation list to get in is about a year and a half long, and that�s if you can get on the list. They�ve got a limited number of tables open for those without the requisite connections. And a few tables set aside for those with the status to ignore things like reservations.

Which is how I end up eating here with the team. Harry�s having the time of his life, tiny drones flying around and taking videos of the building. It�s all carefully arranged and agreed upon by the owner of the establishment, ensuring that his guests�who all have their own privacy clauses active�are either not bothered or featured as contracted.

The pale cream walls and the marble-like columns that dribble down like melted candles, making the entire place look like the inside of a sculpted ice cave, show well, as do the lingering hints of past meals. A Galactic array of spices combine with the smells of perfectly blackened meat, glazed vegetables, and other foodstuff best not considered too carefully. Even so, Skills and extractors ensure that none of the smells are overpowering, the lighting set perfectly to ensure that an amiable atmosphere is available for all.

As for the patrons themselves, they�re a wide array of celebrities, socialites, noblemen, and military personnel. In Erethra, the last mixes with the first three in strange ways, with the concept of the celebrity soldier dominating their culture. Entire units are created�or kept together�because of specific individuals. Individuals who might have been given unique Classes for their actions or because of their natural Charisma. There�s even a subtle powerplay between various Generals as they promote their own armies, with Celebrity Soldier an actual Class. Of course, part of the requirements for them to be popular includes a series of death-defying stunts, so the lifespan of such soldiers is often limited.

When you add in the fact that the Erethran Empire spans literal solar systems and dozens of races make up their population, the array of patrons within B�oolyn is staggering. The need to draw support from a wide range of sapient races makes the breakdown of celebrities on species lines a little more equal than you�d think. The only reason there isn�t a wider range is due to natural population and recruitment numbers among member races. After all, certain races�like the living rabbit-looking fuzzball Bignief�are just too cute not to use for publicity purposes.

All of which is a long way to say that even in a racially diverse cast of patrons, our particular table still gets a lot of eyeballs as we eat.

�You seem to be taking to the looks well,� I say to Bolo, who chows down on his food.

The Dragon Lord is a big contrast compared to Mikito. She�s hunkered down, glaring at everyone who even looks halfway at her. If she had Hitoshi out, I�d be a little more worried, but she�s chosen to store it in her Inventory. Ali�s floating above us, out of sight, in a portion of the establishment reserved for companions. They�ve got their own servings, their own set up which keeps them out of our hair. Though the occasional complaint from Ali tells me it�s a lot less nice than the main room.

�We were much the same in

Xylargh,� says Bolo. �Attention, when earned justly, is not to be shirked.�

�Good to know.� I lean back, grinning at the occasional glances.

The restaurant ma�tre d� appears by my side. It�s a bit magical, the way he manages to glide through the room, making himself known but yet not disturbing his guests� enjoyment of their meals. He makes his presence known subtly, so no one gets twitchy when he does want your attention, yet he never impinges on our conscious consideration. It leaves people like Mikito able to handle his presence without stabbing.

�Is the meal to your liking, Paladin?� the ma�tre d� asks, bowing low. He�s a full Erethran, dressed in a variation of a pale-yellow-and-blue-trimmed serving uniform, almost looming over me as I sit. Almost, because he�s standing far enough back that he doesn�t tower. Nor do his luminescent yellow locks distract from the professionalism of his outfit and demeanor.

�Definitely,� I say, gesturing to the empty plate before me. �That last dish was amazing. What was it called again?�

�Leontophone haunch, braised with walmer nuts and a touch of the opin herb mix, caramelized afterward,� the ma�tre d� replies. �We can bring a second serving, if the Paladin desires.�

�No, not yet. Let�s finish the suggested course,� I say, shaking my head. No need to mess with their suggested menu. At an establishment like this, their menu is certain to build upon itself.

�Of course. Also, there�s a gentleman who would like to join you,� the ma�tre d� says hesitantly. His eyes flicker to the side and I get a new notification.

So. And so.

Just about time then. I smile to set the ma�tre d� at ease. �I�d be happy to speak with him. And his friend.�

No sooner have I finished speaking than waiters appear, moving our utensils and adding a pair of chairs to the table that grows to fit another pair of diners with ease. I don�t even have to scoot my chair back as it moves by itself. That gets a little yelp from Mikito and a glare that the waiters all studiously ignore. I don�t ignore the small blade that Mikito disappears back into her Inventory with a twitch of her hand.

�Who�s joining us?� Harry asks.

Before I can reply, our guests arrive.

Brerdain Ramanner, the General, leads the way. He saunters over, his Charisma washing over us all even though he�s not projecting his Aura. Per usual social conventions, people keep their aura retracted around others unless they�re looking to make a point. Even portly and older like he is, there�s a Charisma to him and his presence that the vid did not showcase.

Beside him is an Erethran female, decades younger. She�s clad in a twinkly, tight sleeveless dress that shows off the muscles in her arms and legs�thanks to the long slit up her leg�while the tasteful makeup on her face and coral ears accentuate her features. Interestingly enough, she�s a little on the short side for an Erethran, at just about six feet six. As she smiles at me, I can�t help but notice the way the light around her brightens a little, angling to deepen the cleavage, shadow her cheeks, highlight parts of the shimmering rainbow of her long hair.

�Paladin. Thank you for letting us join you,� Brerdain greets us with a polite smile. He holds the seat next to me out for his date, letting her slide in. �This is Catrin Dufoff.�

I flick my gaze up to Catrin�s Status, curious about the light-bending companion as she sits down next to me, offering me a smile.

Catrin Dufoff, Empire Top Companion, Class 2 Human Resource, Slayer of Goblins, Wexlix, Crilik, (more)� (Administrative Companion Level 38) (A)

HP: 1210/1210

MP: 3480/3480

Conditions: Always in Place, Never too Late, Perfect Lighting, Pheromones, A Good Impression

Companion it is. I�m debating if there are perks�or what kind of perks�to her Class before doing a mental shrug. None of my business. From what little I recall about Erethran society, they have no specific hang-ups about paid companionship. No more than they do with any job that isn�t directly in the military, that is.

Society�s Web, already running, let me verify the thread between them. Thin, almost insubstantial, and green-gray, the color of Credits and duty. There are more, many more, of those radiating from Catrin. She�s as connected to those in this room as any who have walked in, some of those threads heavy with scarlet and burgundy, passion and lust. Others are threaded with black and gray, heavy motes of duty and obligation. And there are the common ones leading to the Queen, a brown-gray thread leading off into the palace, a trio of purple-yellows headed straight up into the atmosphere.

Brerdain�s even more interesting, his threads numerous. Lots of steel-gray for his soldiers. For those beneath him. I have to sort those out, cleanse them. Then I cleanse his companions, his casual dalliances. And still there are threads, so many to review. Even as I sort, I idly flick away a failed Charm notification.

Brerdain takes his seat while returning introductions with the rest of my team. My attention is pulled back to Catrin as she places a hand on my arm. The heat of her touch and the chemicals in her skin set off another Charm notification.

�Do you prefer to be called Paladin, Paladin Lee, Redeemer, or another of your many, many Titles?� Catrin�s voice is low and husky at the same time, like thick maple syrup coating the waffles of my ears.

�John. I prefer John,� I reply. Brerdain�s ploy is rather obvious, the use of her almost laughable. I do a quick search through the System, tapping into local news sources and blazing through the data with the neural link and confirm my guess. �And you, Administrator? What would you prefer to be called?�

�Catrin.� She smiles, inclining her head slightly. I absently note that her chair has reconfigured slightly, lowering her a little and allowing me to meet her gaze more easily. It also, I idly note, gives me a better view. I find myself smiling, drawing in a slight breath, catching hints of nutmeg and other, unidentifiable Galactic scents in her perfume. �Are you enjoying the meal?�

�I am.� I flick my gaze down to her hand that rests on my arm, but I don�t comment. Instead, I turn to Brerdain, offering him a smile. �So, General. Or is it Chief of Staff?� I cock an eyebrow.

�Well, if we are being informal, it would be Brerdain.� He gives me a congenial smile, nodding thanks to the waiter who deposits their servings in front of them. �Thank you for letting us join you. Many of us are quite curious about the first Paladin to return in many years.�

�I�m sure. But a bit obvious, no?� I nod to the young lady and the hand. She retracts it gently, picking up her utensil and not looking at all flustered. �She�s not your usual companion.�

Brerdain laughs, shaking his head. �I�m sure I don�t know what you�re talking about. I enjoy the company of young women.�

I grunt. That�s true enough. More than enough recordings and news articles to prove that. He and his wife have an open relationship, especially since his wife continues to serve on-board ship as a Marine Sargent. Sexual relationships are rather more open in their society, acknowledging the need for flexibility when partners might be literal light years apart for years, if not decades. Add in the extended lifespan�theoretically�of soldiers with high Constitutions, and their society has grown to accommodate a wide variety of relationship norms. Because of that, Brerdain�s known for indulging his preference for pretty young female things.

Which, I guess, is why he brought her and not a man. Harder to pass off a new male companion to throw at me as a subtle bribe when you aren�t known for them. But his most recent indulgence only started a week ago, and on average, he takes about a month to bore of his new friends. This is definitely a change in routine, even if the thin thread between them wasn�t clear enough.

�Catrin is a friend of a friend. She�s been wanting to indulge in the food here and I could help,� Brerdain says. �I like doing favors for my friends.�

Bolo lets out a loud snort while Harry picks at his food, head down.

�Just so you know, all recording has now been blocked. Everything I�ve got running is being blacked out. Overridden under a �Need to Know,� National Interest order,� Harry sends over party chat.

�A bit heavy-handed, no?� I return while sliding the latest delicacy into my mouth. Some green-and-yellow squirming thing that tastes sweet at first before going bitter. Just not too bitter.

�Not really. His Skill is always active. Makes it harder to sort out what�s important, when everything is blocked.�

Mikito flicks a gaze between the young lady and Brerdain then waves down a waiter and doubles her order of the dish before us. After that, she returns to ignoring the entire interplay. I wish I could do the same.

�I�m sure,� I say. �So what do you want to know?�

Brerdain stares at me for a second, that congenial smile widening. �It seems you really are as blunt as the recordings.�

I shrug while I note how Catrin seems to pull back, almost fading into the woodwork. I note the swirl of Mana around her, the way she triggers a Skill to help make her innocuous.

�But in truth,� Brerdain say, �I have no great agenda here. I wish to learn about you. Your personality. Your history. Your plans.�

�The first two are easily purchasable in the Shop,� I say, pointing toward where the palace should be. �I�m really not that hard to understand. As for the last, I have a bunch of Paladin initiates to train. I�ll get them up to speed, then let them loose.�

�Let them loose�� Brerdain says, drawing out the last word. �And what would that mean?�

�You�d have to ask them,� I say, opening my hands and the utensils I carry in them, letting them balance on the edges of my hand. I�d morphed the weird spork and knife combo into a simple human knife and fork combination, having decided that I wasn�t interested in working with alien cutlery. Cultural assimilation is all well and good until you drop your two thousand Credit steak on your lap in a three-star restaurant with hovering paparazzi drones everywhere. �I�m just their trainer. Not their boss.�

�No, you Paladins don�t have that kind of hierarchy, do you?� Brerdain says, sounding almost satisfied.

I make note of his satisfaction, of the way he says it. And I remember that the Guards, for all their indication of being outside the hierarchy, are all still soldiers.

Silence falls over the table as the next course arrives. Another small portion of food shaped like spheres, glowing and individually colored like planets. Each fried, squished, or flash-frozen ball tastes different, even though I can tell that the material itself is the same.

Weird.

My comment elicits a more congenial conversation about the material used and the cooking methods for Mana-sourced monster meat, and that leads us to a friendly conversation about food across the Galaxy and the Empire that lasts nearly an hour. Catrin rejoins the conversation, but surprisingly does not stop her subtle flirting with me. She�s toned down the expulsion of scent pheromones and other direct Charm attacks, but the obvious interest is not gone.

When the last dish�a dessert that towers nearly as tall as I am seated and made, of all things, human chocolate and ice cream�arrives, Brerdain turns the conversation back to business.

�This training you intend to offer the Paladin initiates. What are your intentions?� Brerdain asks. �I know that there have been requests for trainers��

�Yes. Quite a few,� I say. �Through the right channels, or so I�m led to believe. But of course, live fire exercises will be needed.�

�No better training.� Brerdain smiles. �If you want��

�I�d be open to hearing about any problem areas that you need fixing,� I offer easily. �Preferably something that a single individual or a small group can manage. Multiple problem areas in the same locale would be preferable.�

�Threat level?� Brerdain says.

�High. I�d almost say deadly.� I grin.

Catrin freezes for a second in the process of spooning her chocolate, before she continues. Harry gives me the side-eye but doesn�t comment. Bolo, as usual, is grinning wide at the thought of more violence. That man has a problem.

�Complexity?� Brerdain asks.

�For this? None at all.� I shake my head. �No need to make it hard for them. Yet.�

Brerdain leans back and laughs, eyes twinkling. The lines along his eyes crinkle, his ears catching the glint of light. �I think I like you, Paladin.� He flicks a glance at Catrin, who offers him a smile, and he gestures at the meal before him. �Though I must admit, I�m not a fan of this� chocolate of your Earth. Your ale, on the other hand, is a respectable addition to Galactic cuisine.�

I pause and consider how much of an incident it�d be if I kill him. I am a Paladin�

�No, boy-o. Down!� Ali sends the thought to me, almost making me laugh.

�Well, we�re all allowed our own tastes,� I say with a smile. If there�s a little more teeth than there needs to be, that�s okay.

Having said his portion, Brerdain makes his excuses and takes the young lady along with him. She, at least, has the grace to look disappointed at not being allowed to finish her dessert. I can�t be too sad about her departure. After all, I�m willing to sacrifice myself for the sake of Galactic hunger and waste.

As the pair stroll off, arm in arm, Bolo sighs. �That two?�

�Yup. One more to go.�

Bolo shakes his head and turns back to the consumption of dessert. Somehow, he�s sneaked the General�s portion over to his side of the table. My eyes narrow before I dig into mine. As for the rest of the politicking, that can wait. More important things are at hand.

�Touch her dish, and I�ll stab you.�

***

I�m not surprised when, later that night, I receive a visitor. She arrives about half an hour after we finally make our way home. The others are taking the break to meditate, train, or just relax in their portion of the building. Leaving me to stare at the notification window of our visitor standing outside the gates.

�John?� Catrin stares at the small hovering drone, her eyes wide and alluring. The shift she wears is artfully draped off-shoulder, accentuating her charms as she looks up.

�Catrin. I�m surprised to see you here,� I say. And that�s the truth. I was expecting a much higher Level visitor.

�Well, your rather blunt refusal didn�t make Brerdain happy. But he�s a fair employer,� she says with a smile. �Better than most in fact.�

I grunt. �Doesn�t really answer why you�re here.�

�Well, I�m no longer employed�� She bends her neck, letting hair fall over her eyes and hiding the cat-like-slit pupils for a second. �But I did find you intriguing. I�ve never met a Paladin before. Are your attribute gains as high as they are rumored to be?�

The way she arches that eyebrow makes me cough. She�s rather blunt about her intentions here. A quick query sent to Ali at least assures me this isn�t unusual. Between being a militaristic society used to clear commands and their more open policy about sex, Erethrans don�t waste time on subtle flirting when they really want something.

�So, boy-o? You going for it?�

On the other hand, just because she says she�s done with the employment doesn�t mean that�s true. Even Society�s Web offers no help here. The thread tying her to Brerdain still exists, but it doesn�t say why it exists.

Her presence, no matter what she says, comes with strings, of that I�m sure. Though strings based off female companionship seem rather a weak one to pull upon in a society that doesn�t frown on such dalliances. Then again, maybe there�s more to this that I�m not seeing. That I�m not�.

�If this is too complicated, I can leave. But it�d be a pity,� Catrin says, shifting on her feet and making her body wiggle in a rather distracting way. I look for the notification but don�t see it. So this is all skill, not Skill. �I understand it�s been a while since your last visit with Lord Roxley.�

Huh. The room is getting rather warm. Something definitely needs to be done about the heating�

In either case, Catrin�s reminder makes me think. But Roxley doesn�t care, and Lana was a long time ago. And, truth be told, it�s been a long time since� well. Since.

And what can I say? There�s a certain level of curiosity involved. Aliens are� alien. A hand pauses, and I find myself asking Ali for his thoughts. The query causes the Spirit to send back a rather risqu� image.

I laugh and will the gates open, giving the Erethran Administrator access through the security systems. Sometimes, caution is all well and good. But as I told the initiates, sometimes, you just have to risk being shot at.

I watch Catrin sweep in. And if there�s a self-satisfied smile on her face, I�m not sure I can blame her.

Chapter 12

�Are you certain this is a good idea?� Harry asks as we float high above the ground on the anti-gravity platform.

Around us, low-hanging gray clouds filled with soot and other, worse pollutants float, obscuring the ground from normal vision. Thankfully, multiple screens float alongside us, showing the feeds from the military drones. High above, I know the sun shines brightly, the large red dwarf of this planet�s star offering scant heat in comparison to its size.

Alongside myself and Harry are the rest of the team�all but three of the initiates. Everyone has their own portion of the float to themselves, watching what plays out below and keeping an eye out for threats. And there are threats. Some of them are dangerous enough that the automated drones I�ve dispersed around us won�t be enough of a defense. Among them are swarms of razor-beaked, insect-like creatures and larger, floating gas bag monsters with too many tendrils.

On the torn and shattered land below, three Paladin initiates make their way through the desolate landscape of the planet Seepgra in a separated V formation. Around them float a wide array of drones, feeding back telemetry data. Rather than green earth, the soil is black with charred carbon and foul pollutants, only broken up by the occasional lurid, mutated plant.

A drone floats too close to one of those plants and its orange leaves shoot outward, grabbing and twisting metal. We can�t hear the drone�s demise, but my mind adds the scream of metallic pain as the floating eye comes apart, its defenses insufficient. A second later, the component pieces are swept toward the heart of the plant. Roots burst from the ground, grabbing at other pieces and dragging them deep below the earth before the plant stills.

�It�s good TV, isn�t it?� I say, waving at the screens. �Not often we get to see a border planet like this.�

�There�s a reason for that,� Harry says, eyes narrowing as he eyes the Zone Status information once more.

Warning! You Have Enterred a Restricted Zone!

Due to lack of Management by its owner, the planet Seepgra is facing significant Mana flow disruptions. Currently Zones are facing a �87 Level differential in designations.

We�re technically supposed to be in a Level 100 zone, but it could easily be much more. Or less. Though from our experience, it�s much higher.

Kino releases another drone from his inventory to replace the gap in his net, while Freif takes a moment to fire upon the plant. His attack arches up high then slams straight down onto the plant, burrowing deep before exploding and showering the ground with plant matter and dirt. The last of their group, Ropo, just flicks his gaze over before returning his attention to his quadrant. I hear him murmuring orders as they close in on their target.

�Well, this way people will know why,� I say to Harry, gesturing down. �And Brerdain was kind enough to find us these problem spots. It�d be rude to turn down his generosity.�

Bolo snorts while I idly eye the way the initiates shift uncomfortably at what I say. Not to say Brerdain�s disliked, but most think I�ve been compromised by my current, two-week-plus dalliance with Catrin. Even if she�s indicated she�s not in his employ, few believe her. Of course, she�s not been my only visitor in the last few weeks, though most weren�t as personal.

Even Julierudi�s managed to make an appearance, having made arrangements to transport us here. That meeting was less than spectacular, with conversation stilted and formal over the Captain�s meals. I get the feeling her position isn�t as secure as Ali�s initial analysis showed, with competing factions arguing over the reintroduction of the Paladins.

�But a Restricted Planet?� Harry says, shaking his head. �There�s not much point for us to do� whatever it is you�re having them do.�

�Destroy dungeons,� I say, clarifying the trio�s orders below. �They�re there to destroy three dungeons at least�more, if possible�in the next three hours.�

Harry�s lips thin. I know what he�s thinking, and the number of dungeons as well as timeframe does seem a little arbitrary. Especially when Levels, and thus the threat rating they�re facing, can alter so easily. But that too is part of the test.

�What�s the point? Anyone with any sense has left the planet. Outside of a few highly fortified Guild and military bases, no one lives here. Not really,� Harry persists.

I hum in thought then raise my voice, calling, �Magine. Explain to the reporter why we�re here.�

Harry, not one to lose an interview opportunity, spins around to face the pretty elf. Magine keeps his face neutral, though I can tell from the flicker in the strings that tie him to me that he�s annoyed. All this time, training and goading the group has allowed me to read them�and their threads�much, much better.

�Restricted planets are not Forbidden Planets. Travel to and from Restricted Planets is not forbidden but is tightly regulated. This is due to the need to lower casualty numbers and, in some cases, to help the rehabilitation of those planets. In some cases, such as the planet Seepgra, it�s introduction as a Restricted Planet is due to sapient disruption of Mana.�

�English. Try English,� I call to Magine. When he frowns at me, I grin. �Dumb it down. Harry�s audience is a bunch of neo-barbs.�

Magine�s hand by his side twitches, and for a second, I can see him regulating his temper. Then he turns his attention back to Harry.

�Seepgra was the epicenter of four different battles between ourselves and the Mo�thma Kingdom. Multiple spells and Skills, as well as certain near-forbidden technology, was put into play. In the last war, two different Heroic Classes clashed. All of this induced significant Mana flow effects, damaging the System�s hold on the planet as well as the System orbs that regulate Mana flow.� When I narrow my eyes at Magine, he sighs and dumbs it down even further. �The Mana here is messed up. But it can be fixed, because we messed it up. It�s not an overflow issue like other Restricted Planets near the Forbidden Zone.�

�Good man,� I say, clapping my hands together. �I knew you could do it.� I turn to Harry, who focuses on me. �It�s possible to pull back, even keep, Restricted Planets as residential planets, at least for a time. It requires a significant expansion of personnel, as you have to kill monsters, clear dungeons, reset them to the right locations, plant and build out settlements, and the like. But it is doable, as history has shown. We�re just tackling an easier example below.�

Below us, the trio pause for a fraction of a second as they cross the invisible boundary of the dungeon they�re here to clear. This is an open area dungeon, meaning that Mana density is vastly increased within the dungeon itself, making dungeon monsters spawn more frequently. In fact, looking at it from the air, you can see the boundary�the way the earth changes, the increase in Mana-suffused vegetation. We can even see the sudden change in motion as monsters that lay dormant wake and approach the group.

�But why dungeons?� Harry asks.

�Dungeons are Mana sinks. Sometimes, that�s a good thing,� I say. �City dungeons allow cities to broaden the Safe Zone by adjusting Mana flows and sending overflows to the dungeon. Wild dungeons though, those created by chance, can create� whirlpools in locations. Areas where Mana keeps flooding in, making the dungeons bigger. Stronger.

�Rather than let that happen in zones where they�re not meant to be, we destroy them. Help the System regulate.� I run my mind over options before continuing. �Think of it as selective burns. The planet is an overgrown forest with too many trees and underbrush. Easy to set off. Rather than let it get worse, we do selective burns.�

Harry frowns, then asks the obvious question. �So what�s the fire?�

�Uhh� the monsters?� I pause, rubbing my chin.

Not exactly. Monsters are a by-product of the System attempting to shunt Mana into something it can control, but they�re not exactly the fire. Or are they? After all, the production of powerful monsters, including over-Leveled Alphas or worse, do drop the surrounding Mana density. Not by a lot, but by a little. In fact� I look at Bolo.

The Dragon Lord meets my gaze placidly. �You are correct in your thoughts, Paladin. This is how Dragons were first created. A shunting of excess Mana. Though they then took the Mana and made it their own.� Bolo grins. �Magnificent creatures.�

�Uh huh,� I say.

But his words trigger another avalanche of memory, of data. Streams of recordings about dragons, about their care and upkeep. Of how they end up in other worlds, helping to regulate the Mana flows, and how captive breeding of them has been attempted. A million tests, as many as there are worlds, all of it streaming along.

And at the same time, another data packet unveils itself. My head hurts as I struggle to grasp the information. Tests. More tests. This time, the experiments are to create another dragon, another creature that is as in tune with Mana.

The Kirin. Or the Galactic equivalent of it. A successful experiment, though their significantly decreased reproduction cycle was considered a failure.

But more often than not, failures as experiments go horribly wrong. Hydras, one of the failures, later taken by the System for use as monsters. The Ymir, the Namyz, more. So many more failures, creatures that were born and died, forced to evolve under a variety of Mana over-saturated environments. Sudden and gradual, over generations or a single instance. In and out of the System, right on the borders. And in Forbidden Zones.

My mind whirls as pain and data flows, giving me information that I never asked for. And when I come back, the boys are two-thirds of the way through the nest, fighting swarms of creatures. The monsters are warped messes, twisted versions of what they should be. The dungeon is meant to help them reproduce faster, to form and swarm and allow Adventurers to use their bodies, their Mana for the System economy. But with Mana overrun, with the System breaking down�

The creatures are macabre parodies of what they should be. Some have too many limbs, others too few. Hunched and twisted, fur, carapace, skin, and organs hang off them. They swarm and fight, unleashing claws, gouts of poison, and plasma in unequal portions.

Bolo and the initiates watch without moving a muscle, having seen all this before. On the other hand, Mikito has her face twisted up in disgust. And Harry� well, Harry is hocking his lunch over the side of the platform. Ali, being true to himself, is eating popcorn, watching a baking show on another screen at the same time.

�How, how can you stand staring at those things?� Harry says. �They�re monsters. Demons.�

�Eh, less disgusting than the ones I fought in the Forbidden Zone. You don�t want to deal with warped slimes,� I say.

I note the increased pulse in interest from the initiates when I mention my time away. They all know the history, the story of how I got my Class. This is their history, their heritage. If they pass. Not surprising that they�re interested.

But I ignore their interest, turning my regard instead to the people below. They reach the dungeon heart and are met by the Alpha. The Hmefa Alpha. Cancerous growths sprout from its body, making it slow and sluggish. But as they land attacks, its body heals. As they fight, I take note of their styles, their flow.

Kino stands in front of the Alpha, literally brawling with it. For a Soulbound weapon, the Risen doesn�t have a sword or polearm or anything traditional. No, instead both of its arms are covered in metallic gauntlets, gleaming dark red and brown as he blocks and attacks, keeping the creature�s attention on him. His build is almost purely defensive, so he doesn�t bother manifesting his equivalent of the Thousand Blades Skill. Instead, the other Skill he purchased is in play, a dark brown glow infusing his body with each blocked strike, each point of damage taken.

Retribution Delayed (Level 3) (A)

Passive effect that allows the Grudge Holder to collect damage done to it and release it in a single, retributive attack. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 15 permanently.

Effect: 6% of Damage Taken is stored in a Mana Cloud. When triggered, the next attack will deal 6% of stored Damage.

At first glance, the Skill might not be that useful. 6% of 6% is just 0.36% of damage taken. But there�s literally no limit to how long Kino can store this damage. Which means in a dungeon crawl like this, he�s been storing all the damage he�s taken as he journeys in. All the damage, even damage he�s healed, is just waiting for him to release.

That he isn�t using it right now is a bit surprising, but I wonder if he considers the Alpha too weak for him to bother. After all, the longer he holds off, the more damage he can do. It�s the kind of Skill that I considered, but even if I do play tank, I rarely get a chance to wait around for a single person. Still, I�ve mentally bookmarked the option for when I can find a Master Class equivalent.

Freif, the sniper, on the other hand, is showcasing the difference in his Skills. While his initial build mostly focused on stacking Mana Imbue with a small increase in Blade (Gun) Strike to increase range and penetration and a single point in Thousand Guns, his amendment has been to purchase up Thousand Guns. Now, rather than a single weapon, he has multiple rifles floating around him. Each of those are linked passively with other Skills, allowing him to independently control and fire them. They�re almost automated, using his other Skills to increase damage and accuracy.

What it really means is that unlike his initial build of being a single-shot, high-damage sniper�with an alpha strike option of Army of One�he can now hold off the swarming minions on one side by himself. His floating guns fire and retarget constantly, drawing upon the base Mana density to make him a one-man army without triggering the Skill.

Of course, there�s a negative to that�part of the reason he�s so effective is the huge disparity in Mana density here. Otherwise, the guns he�s using would run out of Mana much faster. On top of that, the damage is lower than his main weapon�unlike melee weapon variations of the Skill�which means he often needs multiple shots to kill a monster. Still, with his base Skills, he�s able to cripple them with the first shots.

�New tactics,� Mikito says. �They listened.�

One of the aspects of our briefing was instructing them to mix it up, to change how they were going to do things. Normally, it�d be Freif who ends the fight while Kino holds off the monster. While Kino is still the tank, Ropo is the finisher this time.

I watch as the Grimsar sneaks around the back, using his smaller stature and enchanted equipment to make him easily ignorable. He lines himself up, his traditional axe by his side, and waits. Unlike the others, Ropo�s used a generalist build in his attributes for the Honor Guard. He�s a little like me, with a ton of different Skills all over the map, though he�s put a greater emphasis on Sanctum. Sadly, he was a little unlucky and missed an Evoution for the Skill. That left him with the problem of lacking a finishing move. Even his secondary Classes don�t help, since the poison and toxin Skills he has just don�t add up enough.

Now, he�s using a new Skill he purchased. It�s not what I would have picked, but that�s his call. And in this case, it makes sense.

The Waiting Doom (Level 10) (A)

A base Skill for the Assassins of Hansen, the Waiting Doom allows the assassins to prepare a finishing strike on their target. Feared for its ability to increase base damage of a single type of attack while hiding the point of origin, the Assassins of Hansen are barred from 2,985 solar systems at this time. Luckily, their need to be flamboyant and have a specific calling card makes them slightly less of a Galactic threat.

Effect: Total calculated damage of designated primary attack increases by 55% per minute while user is still and unmoving. Charged attacks can be interrupted. Upon use of attack, assassin gains a 0.55 second time displacement on light, sound, and other incidental effects of attack.

Cost: 100 Mana per minute

Duration: Channelled

It�s not base damage, so this includes buffs and other damage increases. Combined with his Skills as a Poison Specialist, it allows him to stack damage in his attacks. On the other hand, the disadvantage of the Skill is that your primary attack has to be chosen, decreasing your attack options. If you�re sneaking and hiding, waiting for the time to launch your attack, it�s less of a concern.

In Ropo�s case, he�s able to combine the ability to sneak and Skills like Soul Shield and Stand my Ground from the Basic Class to ensure he can charge up the attack, even in a crowded battlefield.

Kino snarls, punching outward and catching a swinging claw as it arcs toward him. His punch shatters the claw, leaving it limp�much like the monster�s other appendages, mutated tentacles. A few formerly mangled limbs twitch and rise as regeneration brings them back into play, but Kino charges in, grappling the monster via its arms, while a remaining sting-like appendage beats on his back. Freif looks back at the group, the reinforcements having died off. Literally.

Ropo is finally ready, the Alpha held still. He throws himself forward with a single, glowing swing, his attack launched from behind. Waiting Doom lights up his axe, highlighting the Mana imbued into the weapon and leaving a trail of golden and sickly green light. It�s the least assassin-like attack I can think of, but there�s a slight delay in what I see and his actual motion. The statistical number of the effect is tiny, but the actual effect in a fast-paced fight is huge.

By the time we�and the Alpha�see Ropo move, the dwarf has already cut through his opponent, leaving a six-foot-long gash across the creature�s body. The wound pulses gold and green, the green rot spreading at speed as the poison modifiers within the attack stack up.

Damage notifications flare all over, but even with Ropo�s charged attack, it�s not enough to kill the creature. Not immediately. As it turns to flee, Freif fires a single shot from his rifle, burning through the stinger arm and tearing it off before it injects itself into Kino. Freed of the distraction, Kino roars and twists, tearing at the torso and the flesh that holds the monster together. The injured portions part, blood and viscera spilling out like a wet, noisy fart.

Probably smells just as bad too.

The Alpha dies, and with it, the Mana storm that makes up the dungeon dies almost immediately. The cleansing of so many monsters by itself was sufficient to start the process, but now, without the anchor of the Alpha, the System has more control.

The trio pant, staring at one another for a few seconds. Freif absently kills straggling dungeon monsters. And then, in unison, they run.

For this is only the first of the three dungeons they must clear.

***

Three hours later, the second team of Magine, Gheisnan, and Anayton are cleansing the fourth dungeon of the day. Deep within the remnant and twisted town, the group clear buildings�or in some cases, just tears them down. They�re making good time, having taken over from the original trio, and are busy decimating the remaining monsters.

The monsters here are a weird semi-sentient amalgamation of golem and matter, so the group has to switch attacks constantly to deal the most effective damage. However, Gheisnan is making his usefulness known by calling out resistances well beforehand, allowing the damage dealers to really go at it.

Unlike the first trio, all of the combatants are clad in full powered suits, using their tech advantage in a different way. They still use a few drones, but those are tasked with dealing with smaller menaces�the usual array of Leveled insects, prey, and scrap eaters that make up the fauna of a world.

I�m only paying partial attention to the fight below. Instead, I�m facing the original trio. They�re looking worse for the wear, though damage is quickly healing on Kino�s side, leaving his rocky skin pristine. As for Freif, his scout power armor has been stored away, having taken quite the beating in the second dungeon. And Ropo is clad in his traditional enchanted outfit, axe casually held in one hand.

�Report,� I say.

�Three dungeons destroyed as ordered. Thirty percent of forces in fourth dungeon were eradicated, but Alpha was not located for completion. We used seventy-eight percent of all allocated consumables, with no loss of life on allied part,� Ropo barks.

�And how do you think you did?� I say.

�We completed the objectives as requested,� Ropo replies without missing a beat. When I meet the Grimsar�s gaze, it has no give in it. Nor any hint of his other thoughts.

So I turn from him. �Kino. Your thoughts.�

�We comple��

�Thoughts,� I snap. �I want you tell me what you think, not repeat what Ropo said.�

Kino freezes in place, the gentle crumbling of rock that makes up even the smallest of his motions stopping. Then he speaks, looking directly at me. �We could have completed the fourth. If we were allowed to use normal tactics. If we went with a trash-and-burn plan for the fourth dungeon when we realized the terrain.�

I note Ropo shift, and I gesture for him to speak.

�We are Honor Guards. And Paladins-to-be. Our job is not to destroy planets, but to save them,� Ropo says. �This town only fell two years ago. There are significant salvage options available, as well as numerous remains of our citizens. Destroying it to expedite a useless�� Ropo clamps his mouth shut.

�A useless training exercise?� I finish for the Grimsar.

The old Honor Guard refuses to finish his sentence, so I ignore it. Knowing him, he�d probably add a lot more inventive cursing to it. The only reason he�s not right now is because we�re on the battlefield. Even then, I�m curious how long discipline will hold.

Dismissing that thought, I turn to Freif. �And you?�

�The new Skills give me more flexibility in small group tactics,� Freif acknowledges. �It decreases my Mana regeneration, which is inefficient in long-term engagements. It decreased my effectiveness by the third dungeon.�

�And you were already heavily invested in Intelligence with low Wisdom,� I conclude for him. �I�d look at fixing that on your next Level ups.�

Freif inclines his head.

�Anything else before Bolo has his say?� I ask, flicking my gaze over the group. Challenging them to challenge me. To voice their opinion.

�I am considering purchasing another Skill to increase regeneration,� Kino says. �It is more efficient for me to take damage and heal with my new Skill than to block damage. It might be even viable to respec entirely.�

I frown, tilting my head. There�s a little truth to what he says but getting a respec done is a painful and expensive process. There are also negatives in terms of experience gain in most cases. Resets of just Skills are even harder, requiring specialized individuals.

�I wouldn�t go that far. Efficiency is one thing, but putting yourself out there to constantly get hurt gets old fast too. Training and will will only take you so far,� I say. �I�d also hold off on any major changes until we get to phase two.�

�Phase two?� Ropo frowns.

I wave Bolo forward. I have no reason to explain my plans to them, not till everyone is here. Instead, I let Bolo dress them down, explain where they failed in their tactics in working together, with the occasional interjection by Mikito on their individual failings. I keep half an ear out, mostly because I can learn a lot from the Dragon Lord on these aspects.

In truth, I kind of feel bad trying to bitch them out about their team tactics. Even with their new Skills and their new formations, they�re smoother and cleaner, more professional than myself and my team. I�ve been learning a lot from watching them, seeing how the pros do it for real compared to the way myself and my team have done.

We�ve been learning and putting it into practice late at night, when the teams are done for the day or with their own trainers. Because at the end of the day, I�m just a talented amateur.

Luckily, Bolo isn�t. And he�s more than happy to advise and critique. I�ve not seen the Dragon Lord this enthused about anything before, almost as if he�s missed working with groups, missed training others. Even if the Dragon Knights aren�t as team-oriented as the Honor Guard, they still train and work together. They have to.

And so, half-listening, half-learning, I watch the group below take on the new dungeon.

***

Hours later, we�re on dungeon number five for the second trio and time�s running out. They�re pushing faster and harder than the previous team�so much so that I�m a little concerned. I eyeball their Health and Mana bars, gauging their needs, and frown further. They�ve used all their potions, popped them into full regeneration and instant increases. Thrice. Additional uses will see significantly lower gains, to the point that it�s not really worth it.

They�re cutting it close with the way they�re pushing. Taking risks, being aggressive. Trying to impress me? Or are they just competitive?

Magine is in the front of the group, dancing past the swarm of monsters coming at him. They got lucky in the previous dungeon, finding a low-level swarm spawn, creatures that looked like mobile tadpoles. Low-level, large numbers. They pulled out their grenades and high explosives, using area effect attacks to clear their way through. Easy.

Now, Magine is facing larger, canine-like monsters with stinger-like tails and eyebeam eyes. Their attacks dig up the ground, tear at his Soul Shield as he swings his swords and rips apart skin and fur, lops off limbs. He�s in the middle of the pack, forcing them to choose to shoot and hit their own friends or face him in melee.

But these are monsters. And self-preservation and care for their own kind is low on their list of concerns. They attack their own friends, Magine, and the rest of the team with abandon, filling the air with the bright flare of their eyebeam attacks.

Anayton forges in behind, dancing around the group with her own weapon. She wields a chain and blade weapon combination, sending the burning, Mana Infused chain to wrap around, punch through, and rend apart monsters, all the while blocking attacks with the blade portion. Unlike Magine, she stays close, playing bodyguard to Gheisnan, buffing him with Two are One and intercepting attackers.

Gheisnan�s the one guiding the group, the reason they�re on number five. He�s found the way to the nearest dungeons quickly. Worked out the weaknesses and routes to the monsters with his Skills and coordinated the pair. He�s an amazing addition to any team, but in return, he�s a liability.

A damage counter floats next to each head, showing the percentage of damage taken. And Gheisnan�s hogging nearly sixty percent of damage of that statistic. Soul Shields, Two are One, resistances, all of it deployed to keep him alive. Small, mobile force screen drones hover around him, blocking attacks. And still, he is bleeding, injured, his regeneration barely able to keep up. His Mana hovering at the last fifth.

�Think they�ll make it?� I ask Mikito and Harry.

Harry shrugs, content to not guess. Mikito holds up a hand, waggling it side to side.

�Yeah, me too,� I acknowledge her hesitation. There�s too much variability. Too much chance. It depends on the Alpha, on what they face. But� �Magine�s doing well.�

�He�s leaving his friends behind,� Mikito says disapprovingly. �Not working as a team.�

�Only this dungeon.�

�Only needs to be once,� Mikito says.

�Once what?� Ali asks.

�To die, baka.�

Ali crosses his arms, glaring at Mikito from where he twirls around. �Rude. John�s the baka.�

�You both are.� She points at Magine�s image on the screen. �Just like him.�

I grunt and fish out a piece of chocolate to ease the pain of truth. It�s from a chocolatery that restarted in Nepal of all places. However, it�s really, really good and my current go-to chocolatier. Something the Yeti craftsmen do make it all the better. �Why do you think he�s doing it?�

�Pride,� Bolo chimes in. �I know his type. If we can temper it, he�ll be a good Paladin.�

�And if we can�t?�

�Then he�ll be a good target.�

I snort but watch the fight below. Time continues to run out, with Anayton finally making the executive decision to pull back. She triggers a series of explosions in the nearby drones, clearing space for herself and Gheisnan to retreat. Leaving Magine as he continues his journey toward the Alpha, disobeying orders, even as time ticks down.

A minute and a half before Magine�s out of time, the dungeon boss makes its presence known. The canine-creature is the size of a rhinoceros, its skin thick and plated with a reinforced dermis, dotted with multiple eyes. The good news is that those eyebeams only fire five at a time. The bad news is that there doesn�t seem to be a rhyme or reason for their activation other than need.

Magine rushes forward, only to be targeted by three of the beams and thrown backward. His Soul Shield shatters, his health plunges. And I twist my hand sideways, creating the Portal so that he flies through it and onto our hovering platform. He lands and rolls, coming up to his knees, body smoking, blood dripping and making a mess. He rushes toward the Portal, intent on entering it, only to face the broad back of Bolo. The Dragon Lord is slow too, for Mikito�s already through the Portal. I snap the Portal shut behind the Dragon Lord the moment he�s through.

�No! That was my kill,� Magine says.

�No chance,� I say, shaking my head. �You don�t have the Mana to pull off an Army of One,� I say. �And you don�t have the time to wear it down, even if you could.�

And the last part is important, because I watch as Mikito eats fire from the eyebeams of the creature as she attempts to weave her way in. Of course, when Bolo makes his first big attack, the boss fully turns its attention to him. That big hammer of Bolo�s, and its high damage output, is a clear indicator of who is the greater threat.

�Why are you letting them fight?� Freif asks, frowning.

�Might as well finish the dungeon,� I say with a shrug. �And while we debrief, they can pick up a few hundred thousand more experience.�

A large explosion trickles up from below the platform, echoed in the monitors of the ground below. I frown, anger trickling in. A gesture makes the monitors go dark and another makes a second Portal open, allowing the remainder of his team to stagger in.

�So what was that?� I ask.

�Four dungeons and a nearly complete fifth. We would have completed the fifth. If someone had backed me up.� Magine�s lips curl in disgust as he turns around and glares at Anayton and Gheisnan. �I told you not to retreat.�

�And you were not in operational command,� Anayton says. �Gheisnan was. You didn�t listen to orders.�

�As the Paladin has pointed out, we�re not training to be good little soldiers anymore,� Magine sneers. �We�re Paladins. And running from a little danger is ill-befitting a Cha�Paladin.� I frown as Magine corrects himself. �I expected cowardice from the Pooskeen, but from you? I�m disappointed. With your standing��

�My standing has nothing to do with what was a reasonable and logical choice,� Anayton says. �There was no advantage to us pushing ahead. Receiving significant damage�or losing one of us�for a project that could be done with more safety and care made no sense.�

�You�re thinking of gains and losses like a guard. Like this was an army mission,� Magine says. �But the Paladin is here to train us. We�re here to show what we, as Paladins, can do.� He spins and stares directly at me. �Isn�t that right?�

I don�t answer him, instead locking my gaze on the quiet third of the group. The one who has been key to their success. And yet has kept silent thus far. �And you? What do you think?�

�This one has naught to say,� Gheisnan says, bowing his head to me. �We train at your pleasure.�

I don�t miss the slight mocking tone or structure of his reply. But my own reply is waylaid by the party chat request from below. I open my hands and twist, pulling open the Portal to retrieve my friends from below. They tramp out, covered in blood and guts and smoking a little. I don�t bother waiting, reopening a new Portal moments after I shut the previous one, dumping them in front of the next dungeon. Harry hurries after them, preferring to join the pair and earn a little experience that way than stay up here and watch the drama unfold.

Once my friends are gone and our platform begins its slower journey over, I reply at last to the impatient trio. I raise my voice to include the others. �These training exercises are for me to understand who you are. So, yes. Do what you think is right, like Magine. Or Anayton. Or bitch me out like Ropo and still do your job. Because the gods know, you�ll not have a chance again after you�re a Paladin.� I shake my head. �But you�re also showing me who you are.�

�Think you said that already, boy-o.�

�Shut up.�

At Magine�s frown, I continue. �If you�re so intent on leaving your friends behind, I�m not entirely sure I�d trust you as a Paladin. Maybe, sometimes, that�s necessary. To sacrifice everything for the mission. But you do that when it�s necessary. Not for a stupid test by a guy who you barely know.�

I point at Magine. �Fail.�

Anayton. �Pass.�

�Fail.� Gheisnan doesn�t seem surprised.

Ropo is next. �Fail.� That makes the dwarf frown.

Kino straightens when my finger passes in front of him. �Pass. Barely.�

Freif looks stressed as I point at him last. I let the silence linger, watching the sniper twitch before I speak. �Fail.�

There�s a long silence when everyone takes in my words, then they all talk at the same time.

I snort and wave them down. �I�m not done.�

The group silences pretty fast at that point.

�You have a month. Group together. Work alone. I don�t care. You�re going to clear this planet.� I rub my nose. �We�re going to clear the planet.� I twitch my hand sideways, making a series of drones float over to the group. �These are the drones I�m gifting you. If they get destroyed, buy another. I recommend you buy a lot. I�ll watch what you do. How you do it. Now, you�re dismissed.�

I don�t wait for them to reply, instead jumping backward. A Portal opens up behind me, depositing me in front of the dungeon I�ve picked. From the group, I hear more than a few curses, but I can�t help but smile.

Time to see what they do.

Chapter 13

The specter tears at me, its razor-sharp fingers filled with ice bearing down on my armor. Hod�s Triple-Fused Armor is amazing for most things, and it peels portions of the Mana-generated cold away, but it does nothing to stop the insubstantial hands from passing through and scoring my skin. It and the dozens of others that float around me.

-14 Damage (90% resisted)

-17 Damage (90% resisted)

-3 Damage (90% resisted)

-16 Damage (90% resisted)

-9 Damage (90% resisted)

The damage notifications flicker up again, reminding me of how much my resistances help. I ignore them, absorbing the pain even as the Specters continue to tear into me. Because the biggest problem for the specters as they float around me is that they have to get close.

And my own swords have formed their bladed barricades around me. They spin and twist, lopping off ectoplasmic limbs and torso, tearing gaping holes that trail misty whiteness. Damage accumulates fast for these creatures before they die. But killing them isn�t the problem.

It�s keeping them dead.

If they weren�t mostly insubstantial and translucent, if I didn�t have as high as a Perception attribute and the ability to see across multiple wavelengths, I might not be able to see down the choked hallway. Even then, it�s like staring down a road on a foggy winter morning, on those occasions when the temperature dropped below -40C and the water vapor from the river kept rising, cloaking the grounds of Whitehorse. When it gets that cold, the world itself blurs.

And it is cold. The walls are frozen, the ground is slick with ice, and the creatures themselves are shards of angry frost. I plow through them, refreshing my Soul Shield once in a while when I get tired of eating damage, when I need a little relief from the pain.

I plow through them, one after the other, while Ali strolls along, full size for once, hands behind his back. The specters try to attack him, try to tear him apart. They should be able to do so�but the damn Spirit has pulled out another trick. And so their attacks pass through his body.

�You could help!� I snap at the Spirit as I throw my knives, letting them tear through the specters. I�d noticed my lack of use of them, of using their ability to return to me, in my previous altercations. And, I admit, watching the other Erethrans fight gave me inspiration. The last few weeks have seen me doing my best to integrate the throwing knives into my new fighting style, especially since I�ve got a new sword to deal with.

�And give away my actual position?� Ali snorts. �Unlike someone, I don�t like getting torn into bits. Also, most of my skills aren�t particularly useful against them.�

I know that for the lie it is, but I�m a little too busy to call him out on it. I catch one of my swords, switch its position as it cuts down, deflect another of my own swords with my forearm and send it on another trajectory while making a third sword disappear before it lops off my toe. In the meantime, one floats above my head, ending its trajectory by decapitating a specter. Another finishes dismembering another specter, and the last just floats at my back, fending off potential attacks.

�And I am helping.� Ali floats on as another portion of the wall highlights itself.

I cut upward, watching my swords shift direction again, and I duck low, releasing my soulbound sword and snatching a knife from its sheath. An underhand toss and it tumbles through a specter, cutting through the wall. Behind, the totem shatters and a half-dozen specters howl and disappear.

Experience rolls in, discounted as the monsters aren�t true monsters but dungeon creations. Specters, half-formed immaterial golems, are held and replicated by totems laid throughout the building. I�ve been grinding through this dungeon, the sixth largest in the damn planet, for the last three days. Plunging deeper and deeper each day, and all the while, a portion of my mind gets updates.

Data streams in from drones, verbal communications, and the party chat. Even the occasional report. All of it flowing through the neural link, all of it mixing with the slew of knowledge that keeps bursting into my mind from the library. Tests on golems, System creations that the Questors try to make sapient, AIs driven mad by the prods of Questors and System-manipulation, destroyed in fire and flame. Long-winded diatribes.

And more updates. On how my friends are faring. How the initiates are managing.

Magine fighting in a team this week. Chopping apart a half-dozen flying monsters, literally hopping from one monster to the next before bouncing off the mountain walls to ascend higher. Freif, hiding in the distance, providing covering fire and picking off monsters. Even as Ropo continues to climb stealthily to the top. Where a giant egg resides, the prize and ending for their dungeon.

Kino is fighting by himself, plowing through a marshy dungeon. Water-logged, dragged down, and pounded into the ground, the Risen struggles to his feet time and again to tear at the wet, seaweed-like tentacles that attack him. He punches his way through, the Thousand Blades option on his gauntlet making them larger, allowing him to hit harder. Blade Strike becomes a power punch projection from his gauntlets, shooting Mana-infused attacks into the water and showering him with seaweed and gore. Always pushing ahead, never concerned about being drowned. Or being alone.

Gheisnan is by himself too. He�s been alone for the last half of the month, even as the other Paladins join together and split apart, tackling challenges in makeshift teams as necessary. Except for him. Where the Shaman used to rely on others, buff others, he�s in the midst of the fight now. Teeth bared, small daggers plunging in and out of the creatures he fights like a sewing needle. He�s savage, using teeth, claws on his feet, and his knives as he clears dungeon after dungeon. Trying to prove himself to me.

But I�ve noticed he never takes on one that�s over-leveled. He always knows when to pull back. When to retreat and recuperate. And come back later with even more savagery and determination.

As for Anayton, she�s working through the remnants of the fourteenth-strongest dungeon. She�s been there for the last week, even when the other members of her initial team split off, deciding to clear other areas first. She�s stubborn and persistent, constantly hunting the myriad monsters that have made the dungeon their home.

For the fourteenth-strongest dungeon is also the physically largest. Monsters of all kinds live in the remnants of the alien, skyscraper city. Forcing Anayton to travel up multiple floors, across creaking, worn floors and skywalks, to battle among crumbling remnants of civilization. Buildings fall, thunder rumbles, and monsters hunt her in a never-ending swarm. And still, she refuses to leave. Refuses to stop as she hunts for the boss. As she thins their numbers, all in preparation for the rest of us to help her.

Or end it herself.

There�s a staggering arrogance involved. I would have dropped a couple of nukes�or Beacons of the Angels�and called it a day. But she�s in no such luxury. Her Army of One Skill would drain her too much, take away her other options. She needs to grind them down. Step by step, kill by kill. And she does.

It�s impressive.

It�s idiotic.

It�s perfect.

***

�WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST!?!�

The voice rocks my world, thrumming through my flesh and blood, vibrating within my very bones. It�s dark and ominous, eerie in its pronunciation, more felt than heard. It cuts through Hod�s Armor with ease, throwing up damage notifications with each syllable.

Fear Effect Resisted

Aura of the Final Passage Resisted (94%)

Even through my mental resistances, the pressure of the creature�s aura, the terror it invokes with its words batters my mind, clutches at my soul. Reminds me of how mortal I am, that it is only a small step from life to death. When that eternal embrace will hold me, bringing me to my final end� just a small step, a closing of eyes, a blade in the gut.

�Yeah� creepy voice. Check.� I eyeball the creature floating before me. The boss monster is nearly a hundred feet tall, having emerged from the ground itself when it finally deigned to make itself known. �Faceless void for a face. Check.�

Black chains erupt from its body, crisscrossing the space between us. I jump and spin, dancing across the rattling chains, stepping on them, the air, and my own blades as I cross the distance to it.

�And of course, big flowing, spectral robes. Check.�

A chain glances off my armor, throwing off sparks. More damage notifications flash up, reminding me of the danger I�m in.

�Chuunibyou confirmed.�

Blade Strikes erupt from my sword, cutting at the monster. Spectral chains block the cuts, wrapping themselves together into an impromptu shield. I don�t stop, cutting apart spiked chains as they reach for me, throwing out a few more Blade Strikes while dropping a couple of grenades. From the corner of my eyes, I�m watching, waiting. A trio of knives fly out, criss-crossing the space between us as I near the monster. But the closer I get, the denser the chains become.

Eventually, I slip up and get smashed backward. I land, flipping around and rolling, as I note damage reports. Soul Shield, even in its upgraded form, barely stops the blow. My own attacks have done almost nothing, with only a few edges of my Blade Strikes catching it. A quick cast places a Zone of Denial right on top of the monster, stacking area effect damage and degrading his chains. But I watch as its passive regeneration ignores it. I snort, absently debating using one of my Mana grenades on it, then dismiss the waste of equipment.

I have enough information now. Enough to gauge damage numbers, to understand resistances.

�I WILL SUP ON YOUR SOUL!�

The monster has been muttering things like that the entire time. It�s rather embarrassing really. You�d think a faceless boss monster would have better lines than a twelve-year-old�s first writing attempt. Thinking that, I can�t help but repeat the thought out loud.

�YOUR CORPSE WILL BE REANIMATED, YOUR SOUL RETURNED TO ITS MANGLED REMAINS, ONLY FOR ME TO CRUSH IT ONCE AGAIN!�

�Okay, that was better,� I say, cutting aside a trio of chains that manage to reach me. �Maybe if we keep this up, you might even get a decent repertoire.�

�John, it�s nearly time. No more playing around,� Ali tells me. He�s well back from the fight. Even his ability to adjust his position by bending light and displacing himself with his Elemental Affinity can�t help him when there are so many chains flying around.

�YOUR FLESH WILL BE FLAYED FROM YOUR BONES AND EATEN BEFORE YOU. YOUR��

�I get it,� I say.

I�ve got enough information, so I start with the simplest of my Skills. Above the creature, a ritual circle appears, energy building. The boss notices�it�s impossible not to notice�and additional chains erupt from its body. But for the first time, I see a limit, as it retracts some that it used to protect itself in order to build its defense.

Beacon of the Angels calls down a column of white light, a cylinder of burning energy that tears at the monster, melting the chains that protect it. One after the other shatters, dissolving into motes of Mana and steel. A single Beacon isn�t enough though, and I trigger another and another, layering them on the monster and keeping it busy. Damage notifications flash, but I�m not done.

Next, I grab one of my knives and mentally trigger the Skill I bought. Payload activates, and I reach out to imbue the knife with Army of One. I then Blink forward, bouncing right past most of the chains and catching dumbkoff by surprise.

Partly because I�m entering the attack range of my own spell. But not all plans are perfect. And in this case, in the midst of my Blink Stepping in and out, twice in rapid succession and adding Blade Strikes and the glare of my attack, the knife flies. Hidden.

To aid the spell, a simple area denial via Gravitic Sphere is formed, low to the monster�s body. It drags chains down even as I channel more and more energy into it. Making its defense, above and below, difficult.

The knife goes right through the creature�s remaining defenses, such a small thing that the boss specter never sees it. Never sees it before it lodges in its body, glowing. And then, in one second, all the strength of the attack, of Army of One, is unleashed.

Point blank range.

There�s no replication of multiple blades, no showy special effects. No, it�s just a bolt of pure energy that explodes through the boss, carving it apart and blowing a giant hole in it. And since the knife was still rotating a little when it impacted and twists, because gravity has a say, it continues firing and bisecting the monster. Body torn, defenses compromised, the remaining Beacon cuts through.

The scream it unleashes hurts, making my bones vibrate even as I Blink Step the heck out of there. I trigger Blink Step three times in quick succession, dodging the dying end of my spinning blade of doom, before the specter finally dies in an explosion of dark energy, its body parting in mists and shadows, Mana dispersing into the world and returning to the System.

I watch it die, bat aside the experience notification, and watch as Ali loots the glowing remnants. I idly kill off a few more specters that appear next to me, still intent on finishing the job. But without their alpha, their strength has diminished greatly. So much so that a few dozen drones keeps them busy while other hunter-killer drones get to work. In the meantime, I ponder something much more interesting.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 41 as an Erethran Paladin. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 21 Free Attributes and 2 Class Skill Points to distribute.

Finally. It�s taken ages to crawl up to Level 41, and that�s after my big fight at the end of the station battle. Technically, this is the Level the Queen�s been waiting for. The one that would give me access to the third tier. I�m not going to tell her though, because I want a few more Levels first. In addition, I can�t afford to take a Class Skill�just in case the new Skill shows up on their reviews. Which leaves both my Free Attributes and Class Skill points unused.

Just as interesting, as I browse through my notifications, is the lack of dungeon completion notice. No dungeon completion notification. No title. No increased experience. In fact, the entire experience is quite different. And I realize once again why Dungeon Worlds are so important.

Back on Earth, this dungeon might not disperse at all. It�d stick around, allowing people to grind their way through multiple times. Depending on the System and the local settlement owners. But just as importantly, it�d give completion bonuses, experience boosts.

Here, nothing. I just get a notice that the dungeon is dispersing and I�m left to make my way out.

I�d ask why the difference, but I know. It�s in the underlying structure of Dungeon Worlds and �normal worlds.� The way they�re first introduced to the System, the way the connections are built. They�re quite different, and so, some aspects, some robustness of a Dungeon World�s underlying systems are in place that just aren�t on other worlds.

It�s why Dungeon Worlds can take more Mana, why they can handle more monsters. And why they�re so lethal for sapient species.

As I leave, abandoning Ali to do the looting and sorting of the drones, I can�t help but wonder if there�s an alternate reality where Earth never became a Dungeon World. Where our envoy was never killed, where Galactic politics hadn�t interfered.

Where my family still lived. Where seven billion people integrated�

My eyes tear up a little and I swipe at them. Stupid headache. High Constitution or not, grinding and not sleeping for multiple days has consequences.

�John? We�re all waiting for you.� Mikito�s voice comes across the party chat, interrupting my thoughts.

�Sorry. Just cleaning up. I�ll be there in a second.� I draw a deep breath, wipe my face, and cast a Cleanse. Best look presentable. There�s still work to be done.

I can rest later, when I�m done.

***

�Welcome back,� I greet the initiates after stepping through the Portal.

The group is looking fine, if a little weary and frayed around the edges. Most are slumping ever so slightly, the shine of their new training worn off. Most have changed into their everyday uniforms, their equipment damaged and worn after a month of continuous fighting. Even Kino, the rockman, is looking crushed, left arm cradled tight to his granite body.

We�re standing in the middle of the same floating barge, hovering over the remnants of the city Anayton was fighting in. To complete that dungeon, the vast majority of the city had to be destroyed under the combined assault of the initiates. Even then, they�d have failed if not for a last-minute assist from Bolo. Surprisingly�or not�our information had been wrong. The city had not been a single dungeon but a pair, with a much smaller, much higher Level dungeon hidden deep within the city itself�in its sewers. Its boss had risen upon provocation, nearly costing a few lives as it soared into the sky.

I�ve got partial recordings of the fight, since the incidental damage was sufficient to wipe out most of my drones. Enough to make me wonder how powerful Bolo really is. He�d taken the damn monster on by himself for the most part, going toe-to-toe, hammer and claw.

The boss had been a multi-story creature of darkness and dripping poison, lurid purple-and-green liquid flowing from its body, leaking from wide open pores. Bat wings, four of them, sprouted from its back, a horned half-head with a single, baleful eye that stared back. It screeched constantly, its wings twitching and guiding the half-blind monstrosity as it fought. Its very presence warped the air, poisoning it, decaying stone and steel in equal measure.

I remember the last few seconds of their fight, caught on one of the remaining drones.

A claw smashes into the ground, kicking up dirt and rubble. A nearby building, already teetering on its last legs, falls to the ground, throwing up more debris. The monster pulls its claw back, swinging its other arm as it does so. Poison drips down its body, coating the ground and making it sizzle, with each movement.

A small figure, almost too small to see at first in comparison to what he fights, appears from the smoke as the claw retracts from the dust cloud. It runs up the claw, flame wreathing his entire body, originating from the hammer head. It grows with each second, burning away the poison that tries to infect the Dragon Lord.

And then Bolo jumps�as the boss notices him. As it launches globs of living, twisting poison blood cells. Bolo blasts one away with a gesture, using a spell to cast it aside. To let him close the distance. Air parts and burns around the blow, the concussive force and speed pushing the poison away even before the hammer lands.

When it does, it crushes and tears through the monster�s reinforced skin, muscle and skin warping beneath the blow. Flesh crisps and burns, kinetic energy pushing all the way through the creature�s chest, delivering pain and damage. Energy, contained and released. The force travels through the monster, held inward for a second, before it bursts apart like a grape swung at by a golf club. Its body collapses backward, wings unable to hold it aloft as it crashes into the ground. A crater forms as even more debris is blasted apart. A crater painted with its insides.

Organs, spine, and nerves spin through the air, blasted miles away. Covering rubble and torn apart streets with gore.

And the boss dies.

�So you all survived,� I say, flicking my glance over the others then shaking my head. �Even if some of you are worse for wear.�

I take in the information about the state of the world. We failed, of course. One month for nine people to clear out a whole world of its Mana oversaturation problem was just a little much.

�You failed. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?�

Silence greets my question as the initiates regard me. I wonder if I�m doing it right. If there�s a right in all this. I understand a little about Erethran military culture, and a little of our own, pre-System. I wonder what it�s like now, after the System. How armies and other groups work together.

I know, theoretically, that elite teams were a little more relaxed in the way they interacted with one another. The way they talked back and forth, argued. Because everyone was an expert, how everyone had to know the whole plan to ensure they could carry it out. The Erethrans are the same way, because everyone who is in the Advanced Level are elites.

But I�m trying to train them to become Paladins. And that�s different too. Because we are lone wolves who have to work in teams. We have to step outside of the boundaries of social custom to enforce justice. Or what we view as justice.

And really, the truth is, I�m making all this up as I go along. So�

�Come on, speak up.� I gesture. �This is your chance to complain about how unfair it was. That this wasn�t a viable mission to begin with.�

�Why would we want to tell you what you already know?� Magine says, lips curling. �You never expected us to finish this. You just wanted to see us expend Mana.�

�Mana and Health,� I reply languidly. �I was curious how you�d react to pressure. And if you�d succeed. Because this was no impossible task.� I turn to Bolo. �What did you say were their chances of finishing?�

�Twelve percent. If they took into account and planned for the formation of new dungeons in inappropriate locations as they continued their assault,� Bolo replies.

�Exactly. And, it seems, none of you did,� I say. �Any other mistakes you saw?�

�Not using us,� Mikito pipes up, her arms crossed. �We never received a single direction from them.�

�Would you have listened?� Ropo growls, arms crossed beneath his barrel chest. His beard floats and ripples in the high altitude winds, showcasing the white roots beneath.

�You�ll never know now, will you?� I reply.

�Their coordination with local forces was decent. But they failed to call in additional help,� Bolo says, shaking his head. �Some of the initiates��Bolo stares at Magine and Kino, one after the other��took too long in their mop-up. They should have left local forces to finish the minor spawns after they dealt with the boss.�

There�s a slight stirring at those words, but Kino nods slowly.

�And, of course, some felt the need to prove themselves more than finishing the job.� This time, Bolo�s words are directed at Gheisnan and Anayton. Their faces flush�or at least, Anayton�s does. I have a hard time telling what�s going on under all that fur with the Pooskeen.

�So. Final score?� I ask.

Bolo shrugs, not wanting to answer. I look at Harry, only to find the reporter slumped in the corner, sleeping. I snort, amused to see the reporter down. Unlike the rest of us, he�s not specced for Constitution, but he�s had the most work to do, recording, editing, and finally, broadcasting our results. It�s only the debriefing that he has no hand in.

�Not for us to say,� Mikito voices her thoughts softly.

�Nor mine. Ali?� I say, gesturing for the Spirit to do his thing. I�d already passed the message to him mentally, so this is just theatrics.

A moment later, a much larger viewscreen blooms, one that�s visible for everyone to see as the light projectors form the face. It�s a familiar face, at least for the initiates.

World Leader Hanna of Seepgra stares at us, coral ears scuffed and unpolished, bags under her eyes and lines across her face. But when she speaks, it�s respectful. �Paladin. You called?�

�How is the cleansing going?� I say.

�Slowly. We don�t have enough settlement cores or the personnel to guard the ones we do have. Reinforcements are still a week away, but we�ve been able to lock down at least seventy percent of the locations freed,� World Ruler Hanna says. She runs a hand along her coral ears, then when she realizes she�s doing that, she snatches her hand away. �Our Elites are dealing with some of the smaller, newer Alphas that are popping up. Your people did good work, cleaning out so many dungeons. Especially those in the top ten.�

I nod, flicking my gaze sideways as a notification pops up. I grimace at the information it offers. �The Guilds?�

�Whining,� Hanna replies flatly. �But they didn�t get the job done. And we�ll have more dungeons they can raid soon.�

�Then, World Ruler, your final opinion?� I say.

�Passable,� Hanna says. �In another year, we should be able to regain control of the planet. If we�re able to hit my immigration goals.�

Something in her voice at the end made my eyes narrow. But it�s not something I want to tackle right this second. Another call then, later. �Thank you, World Ruler.�

�You�re welcome,� Hanna says. And then she flicks her hand, killing the feed before me.

Her abruptness makes me smile slightly. I guess even the rank of Paladin doesn�t hold much sway when things are as busy as it seems.

�Well then, boys and girls, you heard the lady,� I say, turning to the initiates. �You passed.� There�s a stir from the group, surprise and happiness that quickly gets masked by concern as I continue speaking. �Good thing too, because if you�d failed, I�d have to kick a few of you out.�

I offer them all a smile then wave a hand. A Portal opens, one that leads back to the main settlement base of Seepgra. �You have three days. Rest, reequip, train. Stage two will get a lot worse.�

As the group trundles off, I lipread Kino as he rumbles to his friends, �That wasn�t stage two?�

I can�t help but grin, especially when Mikito meets my gaze.

Yeah, stage two is going to be fun.

Chapter 14

It is the night of our return to the capital planet Pauhiri. Instead of having a nice, relaxing break, I�m here. Striding up the hallway, being stared at by many, many jealous figures, while I hang off the arm of my more beautiful and graceful companion. Multiple cloth banners�reproductions of military unit standards�hang from the walls, telling their own tale of victory. Scattered throughout the hallway are small pedestals holding captured trophies, military equipment, and the occasional Legacy weapon. And that�s just the entrance walkway from the teleportation chamber.

We�re in the Viscountess of the Purple Sky March�s abode, invited to one of her semi-annual soirees. The invitation had been waiting for me when I got back, Catrin�s call not far behind. She had been so excited, so thrilled by the idea of going, that I couldn�t say no. I have to admit, it was smart of the Viscountess to send an invitation to Catrin as well�dependent on me coming, of course.

I still would have declined, mind you, if I didn�t have my own objectives tonight. After my private talk with World Ruler Hanna, it was quite clear that certain steps need to be taken if all our hard work is not to be wasted.

�Are you sure about this, boy-o?� Ali floats alongside us, visible to everyone even if he wasn�t directly on the invitation. After all, Companions are considered part of one�s retinue, and a single addition like him is nothing compared to the dozens some of these nobles have.

In fact, as I walk, I spot a young lady�the Countess of Jade�with floating butterflies all about her head. Strange form for a companion, but then again, Ali is really a floating ball of spiritual energy and Mana. The only reason he looks like an overweight Middle Eastern man is because I somehow, somewhere in my brain, felt that was the ideal form for a spirit.

�Got to get going on stage two.� I turn my head from side to side, searching for my target.

Problem is, even after gene therapy, I�m six feet two and everyone else, even the women, is at least seven feet tall. That means I�m at a major height disadvantage. Mostly, I see a lot of chins and necks, suited bodies and gowned women. And others, who float in between. Erethran biology is kind of fascinating�

�John?� Catrin leans in and murmurs into my ear, waking me from my reverie.

�Right. Keep moving. You lead, I�ll follow.� I offer her a wan smile. It�s a bit annoying how fast she�s picked up on my inability to stay focused.

�Find him for me, will you?� I send to Ali.

I get a mental assent from Ali before he buzzes up to the ceiling. He joins a bunch of other flying companions�some of them sapient and verbal, others just glowing balls of power. There are even a few flying AIs running drones up there. In either case, I�m sure he�ll let me know when he finds who we�re here for.

In the meantime, Catrin�s tugging me along, dragging me over to meet our host.

Julierudi K�nillam, Viscountess of the Purple Sky March, is a striking figure clad in a purple outfit that swirls and shimmers with every motion. Stars appear, flare, and die on her clothing while projections of spaceships swoop in graceful arcs around the curve of her hips and down the slits, caressing her long legs. The entire dress is a masterpiece of military valor and glory, underscored by the subtle background of capital ships in muted colorings.

Unlike her military photograph, the Viscountess is significantly more striking in person. Makeup does a good job of masking the size of her nose, decreasing the visible projection of the extremity to make her beautiful. The mutation makes what is normally a tiny knob of a nose a dominating feature of her face, drawing eyes to it and her lush lips below. Of course, that�s based off human tastes. As I understand it, she�s considered incredibly ugly among Erethrans. It explains, among other things, her lack of companionship and relationships outside of the Admiralty.

It also says something about her personality that in a world where buying a new nose probably wouldn�t cost more than a few thousand Credits, she refuses to do so. Not entirely certain what it says, but it says something.

�My dear Paladin, such a pleasure to see you.� Julierudi steps forward, doing the entire air kissing next to my face thing. We get a couple looks, and I lipread people muttering about strange human customs.

I�m a little too amused to tell them that that�s a European thing, not a North American greeting. And definitely not a greeting you�d give a physically repressed Chinese Canadian. Of course, having blood and guts spilled all over me and being in close contact, grappling and training, with all kinds of creatures has ridden me of my issue with physical contact.

Mostly.

�Viscountess. Pleasure to see you too. Thank you for the invitation. I�m sure you know Catrin,� I say, stepping back and detaching myself from the Viscountess. At the same time, I offer up Catrin.

The two women offer their own greetings. This one is more restrained, a smile, a sweep across the tops of their chests where medals might have hung if they were in uniform. All it does is drag my attention to certain areas of the body. But it�s a more traditional Erethran greeting. So who am I to say anything?

While I�m busy admiring the women, the two ladies have passed on their verbal greetings. But just as quickly, Catrin is discarded, relegated to a footnote as Julierudi focuses her attention on me.

�I heard you just returned from Seepgra?� she says. �I trust it was a good training period.�

�It was good enough.�

�Is the planet stabilized?�

�Not yet. It will be, once more immigrants arrive,� I say those words with the same tone, same inflection as I would use to talk about dinner. Maybe a sports game. I�d be much more excited about dinner.

�Ah.� Julierudi smiles at me, head tilting ever so slightly. �It�s like that, is it?�

�I�m sure I have no idea what you�re talking about.�

Julierudi goes silent, her eyes going distant before she focuses again on me. �Well, I won�t keep you. Do try the food and enjoy the dancing. Perhaps in the north hall?� When I nod, taking her hand and kissing over it, Julierudi smiles. �Do make sure to see me before the end of the evening. I would hate to not speak with you again.� The Admiral then gestures to the side, and a young man bows slightly. �If you can�t find me, please ask for my nephew. He�s quite well-versed in most of my affairs and can help you with anything you need. Tonight, or in the future.�

I incline my head in thanks, for both the directions, the invitation, and the introduction.

Seconds later, she�s off, greeting another important noble, another player. Some corporate industrialist, from what I recall. It�s only when she�s gone and I�ve beaten off a couple more wannabe social rank climbers that we manage to begin our journey to the north hall.

Catrin leans into my ear and murmurs, �What is this about?�

�You�ll see.� I offer her smile, content to let her wait.

It�s not a big secret. Not big enough that it really would change things in the next few minutes if I told her. But some aspects of their military culture have started catching on. Like operational security. She doesn�t need to know. So I won�t say.

We enter the north hall, sweeping past open doors with a smile and nod. Unlike the main greeting hall, the northern hall is decorated with a more tropical theme. Floating fish�chirping five-limbed, lightly furred creatures�swing from what I�d call tropical rainforests. If our trees moved and tried to eat its inhabitants. A significant amount of solid light projections are involved in the display, but as my fingers brush against one of the plants and come away slightly sticky; I realize there�s just as much real vegetation scattered about. It gives the entire display a surreal and physical sense that hard light projections miss, for the plants bring with them the smell of turned earth, fresh oxygen, and bleeding sap.

�I found him.� Ali�s flashing waypoint on my minimap directs my feet as we edge around the hall.

Ali�s floating high above, along with some of the more active guests. They�re swooping through hanging branches and vines, dancing and playing. There�s a game of laser tag�with real lasers�going on above, shield drones taking care to soak up errant blasts. A cyan buzzer goes off and one of the Erethrans grumbles, floating down to the floor as he�s knocked out of the game. For now.

The sight catches my attention, and another piece of data unfolds. I shake it off, pushing aside the information. I have no idea how the rules and intricacies of a social sport has anything to do with the System Quest, and right now is not the time to explore.

Catrin shoots me a worried glance, leaning in close. �Are you okay?�

I can only offer her a half-smile, placating her. Telling her would be a bad idea. For millions of reasons. But I reassuringly pat her arm. It�s nice to have someone show they care. Even if it is fake.

As we near my target, I turn on Society�s Web. The Mana drain isn�t the problem with the Skill�it�s the strings that float everywhere. Even with training and practice, I still have to focus to make some strings disappear, make others come to the fore. After all, Society�s Web shows all the obligations, all the duties and feelings we create with one another. And even for an introvert, it�s a significant number. To help me focus, I turn to stare at Catrin, taking her in.

My date�s in a shimmering dress, all tight curves, off-shoulder beauty, and plunging neckline. But I�m more focused on the threads that erupt from her body, that cover her form and attach themselves to the individuals around us and fly deeper into the city and the palace. A deep, dark purple, thick but shimmering in the way that denotes a shared obligation. That string is similar to the ones every single individual in this room has, all leading to the Queen.

Another, this one dark red with flashes of pink and mauve, twists and beckons. For an ex-flame I�ve never met, but for whom she still holds a little feeling. It isn�t the only red and pink string. In fact, there are more of those than I care to count. Or should. A lady has her secrets and a gentleman doesn�t pry.

Idly, I confirm that Brerdain�s string with hers is the same. There�s still some minor connection, but the color and thickness hasn�t changed. I�d assume she�s being paid a little for some information. Or it could very well be the simple acquaintanceship he mentioned.

There are numerous such connections, threads of those she�s been with, obligations and favors owed as she continues her social journey. A dark brown-gray thread leads into the city. Another, lighter purple-white, that I know is for her hairdresser. She�s arm candy and companion, friend and confidant. And more. And all that means she has one of the most fascinating webs I�ve ever seen, more layered and complex than the majority. Her relationships are never simple, all of them complex. Even the one she has with me�

�You�re staring, my dear,� Catrin says as she breathes into my ear.

I blink, tearing my gaze away from her, realizing we�ve stopped. Like the social chameleon she is, Catrin�s hanging off my arm just enough to make it seem as though we�re having a discreet conversation, and not that I�ve wandered off again into the maze of my mind.

�Can you blame me? When you dress like that? I love the necklace,� I say, covering up my mistake. I push with my mind, shedding the majority of the strings, and look around, letting my subconscious work the angles, the data. It�s harder than it seems, especially because so much of my processing power is taken up by the damn library.

�Well, we could leave and you could take it off me. Or we could find some place quiet�� Catrin teases, her voice low and husky.

I feel a stir down below but ignore it. She�s good, but Roxley was better and I spent years learning to ignore that damn elf. I feel a flash of guilt but push it aside. We never promised anything to one another, beyond the barest of connections. It was never a viable relationship, not when he�s a Truinnar and I�m� me. And if I know I�m lying to myself, that�s between me and my conscience.

�Down, girl,� I say. �There�s work still to be done.�

�For you.� She smirks at me.

�And you. I�m sure there are few connections you want to make.� I flash her a grin and she shrugs unashamedly.

�If you�re willing. It�s not as if you�re going to be my sugar daddy for ever.�

I scratch my temple, wondering if it was a translation error in my brain or if she really used that term. It�s not as if it�s an organic learning of languages, this Shop download of Erethran. I don�t exactly have a dictionary in my brain to check against. Occasionally, terms we hear are just close approximations.

�After I�m done,� I say. �Though we�ll have to see who wants to talk to us afterward.�

She laughs, squeezing my bicep in support. �It�s okay. If necessary, I can leave you to fend for yourself. I�m sure you�ll find more than enough company either way.�

She traces her gaze to a number of women, and a few men, who are eyeing us. Not in the political �what can they do for me� way, but in a more carnal manner. At first, I�d dismissed their gazes as being focused on her. But among other things, Society�s Web ensures I�m not mistaken where their regard leads to.

I really could have used this in my twenties, in the club scene. Or maybe not. I�m not sure my ego could have handled it back then. Young, male, and unsure? I might have retreated into my code further.

Either way, it�s a new thing. Being a person to be lusted after. And I know part of it is because of my Charisma, my aura, my status. It�s still kind of nice. Not that I intend to take advantage of it, not anymore.

All of those thoughts fade away as I finally spot my target. Like most others in here, he�s filled with lines, threads that lead between him and others. Except unlike most others, most of those obligations are toward him.

The Lord of the Infinite Keeps is from an old and prestigious house, having provided soldiers for the imperium since their very beginning. For their loyal service, they�ve been given great lands, entire solar systems. And of course, they�ve garnered the arrogance that comes with such prestige.

Kremnock Ucald, Duke of the Infinite Keeps, Cretigrad of the Spears, Malefactor Imperium, Slayer of Goblins, Slimes, Grishnak,� (more) (Level 34 Erethran Vice Marshal) (M)

HP: 3480/3480

MP: 2480/2480

Conditions: Aura of Marshal�s Command, Under my Rule, Only Death and Taxes, Personal Force, Confidential Business

�Vice Marshal?� I send up to Ali.

That�s a new one. Most go direct to General or in a few cases Admiral. I�ve not seen Vice Marshal, though I�m assuming it�s an air force designation. Then again, from what I understood, the Air Force has been subsumed into the general army, since so many of the army can fly or are abusing things like hoverboots and mecha. In fact, outside of a small branch of dedicated transport specialists, the Erethran Army is mostly divided into the general army and the space navy.

Of course, there are units within those designations with individual Generals deciding on how they like to split things up, but the uniformity of the units and general training means they can also work together with only the slightest hiccup. It�s still a little complicated, especially for someone like me. And, truthfully, I don�t really need to know.

I seem to be saying that a lot.

�Vice Marshal. It�s a general rank for those without a unit directly under their command, but who still want some of the perks of being a ranking officer. Quite common about a hundred years ago but fallen out of favor recently among the Erethran nobles. Splits skills between personal bonuses, unit bonuses, and domain bonuses. Most put emphasis on the unit in their domain,� Ali provides the details as usual, having anticipated my question.

But as he was detailing skills, we�ve already reached the man. He�s noted my approach and hasn�t made a move away from me. Which is a good thing. I�d hate to have to chase him down in public.

�Ah, Paladin. It�s good to see you,� Kremnock says when I approach. He even offers me a formal greeting, that weird salute from the chest. �I was just telling my friends that we�ve sorely missed having Paladins overlook our activities.�

Even if I didn�t have a finely tuned sarcasm detector, I could pick it out here. So instead of returning the greeting, I look him over. He�s not wrong about the friends part though, as threads around him vibrate to his words. Multiple lines of obligation vibrate and twitch as his hangers-on and audience laugh as he wishes. More surprisingly, he�s got a thick, brilliant red, burgundy, and pink thread leading to his wife who swoops and ducks above. The thread speaks of love. True love, if you believe in things like that.

Otherwise, when I filter for business and military contacts, the strings he has to pull on are numerous. They don�t just include the nobles clustered around him, but more�much more. Prestigious, old, and connected.

When I notice that Catrin, in her usual social mode, moves to pacify him in my silence, I pull gently on her arm hooked onto mine. She�s smart enough to stop, shifting from the beginnings of an apology to a demure smile.

�Paladin? It is common to reply to others, in Erethran society,� says Krenmock.

�Oh, I was going reply. I just trying to decide if it was with a punch or not,� I say.

My casual threat isn�t taken lightly, with a few of his hangers-on putting their hands on weapons.

�But it would be poor taste to spill blood outside of a formal challenge,� I say. �And that isn�t the kind of party that the Vicountess has chosen to host.�

�How have I generated the ire of our illustrious Paladin? After all, I do not believe we�ve met,� Krenmock says. �Did I, perhaps, tread upon an Earth custom?�

�The planet Seepgra. Your men have been interdicting transports in,� I say.

�It�s for their safety. Seepgra is a restricted planet. There are too many dangers for the unprepared. We do not need to be feeding the monsters, increasing their Levels,� Krenmock replies. It�s smooth and almost plausible.

�Yet somehow, Guilds who have paid you off, who have close contact with you, get through without a problem. And on top of that, any native Erethran who is looking to Level is able to reach the planet.� As we speak, I note the increasing number of stares and scrying orbs. We�re good entertainment in a place that is always looking for gossip. �It�s only non-Erethran groups, Guilds that are out of favor, and competing companies that get stopped.�

�I don�t deal with the details.�

Krenmock�s very careful, making sure that he never tells an actual lie, only partial truths. He doesn�t deny knowledge. He doesn�t deny stopping or giving those orders. Just that he doesn�t do it himself. Its one way of escaping truth-telling Skills. Not that I have one. My Eye of Insight only stops Skills from working on me. They don�t tell the truth.

I think the old Paladins were cynics like me. Society�s Web tells the tale of actions taken, obligations and duties and emotional resonance. But only when those things are acted upon. At the end of the day, it�s the truth of what we do that it shows, rather than the platitudes of what we say. Or try to say.

�I really don�t care.�

My words send a ripple of shock racing through the hall, and a few of his minions hem us in, trying to intimidate by presence alone. They are stilled by a look. Not mine, but the Viscountess, who has made an appearance, though she takes no other overt action.

I say, �Your obstructions stop now. In fact, you�re going to make sure that every single immigrant ship arrives safely.�

�That�s an extremely wide-ranging order. I cannot stop bandits and pirates and lousy maintenance,� Krenmock exclaims, playing to the crowds. �Surely you don�t expect me to provide those immigrants with new ships if theirs break down.�

�Again. I don�t really care.� I give the man a grin filled with teeth. �Get it done, or I�ll find someone else who will.�

The Duke�s gaze sharpens. But before he can ask for clarity, if he�s going to ask for clarity, I walk off with Catrin on my arm. I said what I wanted to say, and maybe it�s the crowds, the way he acted, but he reminded me of Minion, of the mayor. Of the way they tried to shade what they did in the guise of a better world. And it sparked an old hurt. Made me be blunter, cruder than I needed to be.

Whatever.

What will come, will come.

For now, what is, is. And what is is that I�ve got a beautiful lady on my arm who wants to meet a lot of people.

Chapter 15

Julierudi finds me late that night, when things are dying out and I�m seated by myself in a corner. After my last pronouncement, the number of individuals wanting to get to know us had died down a little. A little. I still had to gladhand a bunch, talk to them about their problems, learn a little about what they wanted me to do for them and who they wanted to point me at. I listened, recorded everything, and promised to look into it. And then sent them on their way.

Toward the end of the night, Catrin parted with me, intent on making her own connections. That worked for me, allowing me to find a place to settle down, conjure chocolate, and steal passing food while watching the threads dance. I�ve got a minor headache from keeping the Skill up and running for so long, a mental exhaustion I�d be loathe to carry if I expected violence. But for all my warnings to the kids, this is one of the few areas I�m pretty sure I�m safe.

And the reason, arriving before me in her tall, elegant gown, offers a mocking smile. �Paladin. That was� interestingly done.�

�Sometimes being blunt is the easiest.�

�And sometimes it makes things harder. But you�re not one to shy from the hard work either, are you?� Julieurdi says as she takes a seat across from me.

�Don�t have the time,� I say, gesturing around the group. �If I was here longer, I might have favors to call in, ways to get him to do what I want that aren�t as blunt. But��I shrug��I don�t. So I use what I have.�

�The threat of violence,� Julierudi says.

�Yes.�

�And when that fails?� The Viscountess asks.

�We�ll have to find out, won�t we?�

Julierudi�s eyes narrow, then she laughs. �You certainly are a breath of fresh air. I�ll be interested to see how Krenmock deals with you.� And how I deal with Krenmock. It could turn out badly for me, solving their problem of more Paladins. Which, I assume, is why she�s supported me this much. �Tell me, are the initiates you�re training going to be similar to you?�

I shrug. �That�s up to them. I�m sure a few might be more diplomatic. Some might even support your abuses.� I lean back in the chair, enjoying the plush comfiness, feeling how I sink into its cream-and-yellow embrace. I dismiss Society�s Web, saving myself from the headache and beginning the recovery process.

�You say abuses, we say efficient distribution of work. Or do you think we should set out bidding processes for every contract? We should try for equality when it�s quite clear who will get the job when we have the Levels and the Classes?� Julierudi says. �Equality is a nice ideal, but it pales under the light of the System.

�Classes and Levels are fixed and clear. There are Classes that are better than others, Levels which are higher. Put together into a corporation or Guild, it is easy to quantify and note who is superior. Why should we waste time taking part in pageantry and sacrifice efficiency? Why should those who have better Levels, who have strived for those Levels, sacrifice for those who are too lazy to improve themselves?�

�And what does Brerdain say of that?�

�Perhaps you should ask him. I wouldn�t want to put words in his mouth,� she says.

I flash her a tight smile. �But I�m asking you.�

She hesitates before indulging my question. �He, and his people, would say that we are too dependent on a few groups. That in doing so, we leave ourselves vulnerable to shocks in the system. That our enemies could exploit that. By hogging Leveling chances, by keeping our services constrained, we harm the growth of our Empire.�

�And?� I raise an eyebrow, curious to hear her rebuttal.

�His way sees the creation of a large number of low-Level Master Classers at best. Focusing our attention on a few, we can push a select number of Artisans to Heroic Levels.�

�Not Legendary?� I say, lips curled up slightly.

Julierudi sniffs. �You should know the answer to that by now.�

I nod in acknowledgement of her point. The gap between Heroic and Legendary is vast. Even for someone like me, my growth has slowed significantly. For �normal� individuals, the climb to Legendary could be considered impossible. At that point, even Artisans need to venture into the Forbidden Zone, need to achieve a number of truly lucky opportunities and take part in some extremely large battles, just to scrape together the experience needed.

No. The jump between Heroic and Legendary isn�t something an Empire, even one as powerful as the Erethran Empire, can achieve just by desiring it. Not with the way experience is gifted, not the way it gets discounted when too much danger, too much help is blocked. I know this better than most.

For I have seen the statistics, watched as specialists, statisticians, and researchers run the numbers. As I think about it, the data floods back. The research tables, the videos, the memo notes. As Questors draw information from across the System Galaxy, across thousands of years. Data, compiled and tested, scenarios modeled. The simple answer is that the System wants individuals, needs individuals, to achieve Legendary Status alone. As if� as if it doesn�t trust an empire with the power to make Legendaries.

This time around, as the information floods past me, I spot something else. Another piece of information, a discussion I�d missed last time. A series of research papers that had been redacted in the normal archive. Of changes in experience gains by the Council, jumps in Levels by those sponsored by the empires and the sudden shift, of new rules and Titles, of deaths. And the sudden cessation of their growth.

A battle played out between the Galactic Council and the System itself, as one and the other tries to push their own goals. It reinforces my knowledge, my understanding, that the System is self-correcting. The question is�is it a sub-routine or a deliberate choice? The problem with a good, self-learning program is that Turing�s Test can easily be fooled. Even so, there are answers here in the way it discounts Titles or alters experience gains from Perks or�in one case�elevated an entire neighboring race to wipe out a hive-mind, single-organism race. The answer it hints at is a guiding intelligence, one that is more than just a sophisticated program.

�Well, it has been a while,� Julierudi says, drawing my attention once again.

I blink, staring at her, and realize I did it again. Faded out as information passed through me. And in the corner of my eye, I notice the System Quest update blink and flash away as experience is provided to me. �A while?�

�Since I have been so thoroughly ignored,� the Viscountess says. There�s a slight smirk on her face, and a bit of a glare.

I�d flush in embarrassment, but I lost that particular concern a long time ago. �Just thinking.�

�Of course,� Julierudi says. �About what?�

�Your support. And those of the others.� I look to the side, watching a few stragglers as they linger.

There�s a group of them clustered around Catrin, chatting with her, vying for her attention. In another corner, a gentleman holds court over his own ensemble of men and women. Ali feeds me details, but I dismiss them. Handsome boy�s a socialite but a non-player. Sprawled across a divan, an older Erethran man, portly with a metal foot, lies, insensate off a concoction of toxins and boosters.

Robots move around, picking up and cleaning the area, putting it all back together. Ali�s flying high above, floating on clouds�literally�as he chats with other Companions.

For all that, I�m also recording Julierudi�s reaction as I speak. �I was led to believe I�d be facing more headwinds in the reestablishment of the Paladins.�

�Oh, many aren�t happy. They remember the purges, the audits. But you�ve done nothing thus far.� She gestures toward the north. �Until tonight, that is. This, and how you and your initiates act, will see your Mana levels rise or fall.� She sniffs. �We understand the need for your Paladins. And better a group that we know than�� She shrugs. �Well, let�s just say the majority are waiting to see what we get. We do recall times when Paladins came from our ranks too.�

�You mean when you found people who would help you nobles get your way,� I say.

�We�re not parasites, no matter what others might tell you. Unlike your politicians, we serve the Empire. Much like those nobles of yours once did,� Julierudi says. �Noblesse oblige, was it? The improvement of our Classes, of our families and guilds, are for the betterment of the Empire. We have been the lance that pierces our enemies� hearts from the very start.�

�And what many enemies you have. How many active wars are you fighting now? Ernak, Giel, KuzlaMana�� I trail off, trying to remember.

�Uswain, the Spiral Arms of Trenn,� Ali says, floating down finally. �And those are the ones that are hot right now. There�s another half dozen in abeyance, though not at peace. Never mind the other half dozen minor kingdoms which are working with your current opponents to strengthen them. Because they know they�re next.�

�The problem with constant expansion is that everyone knows sooner or later, they�re going to be next. Which means everyone has a good reason to join together to fight you guys. If not for your espionage teams, you�d be facing a much bigger problem.�

�I think you�re mixing my stance with Brerdain�s,� Julierudi says. �While I intend for us to win our current battles, I do not believe further expansion is in our interest at this time. Our population is somewhat more stretched than I would prefer.� She shakes her head. �We need to expand our population, consolidate our latest gains. Including our base on Earth.�

I flash her a half-grin. That too is true. Having that space to develop has ensured the Erethrans can train a large number of their people in a Dungeon World environment. One of the other negatives of a Restricted Zone is the negative experience modifier we all face. It�s due to the System breaking down, just like in a Forbidden Zone. And just like a Forbidden Zone, the experience is banked, but to a lesser degree.

�Not exactly true. You actually have a higher population density than ever,� Ali says. �At least on the fringe worlds.�

�Those undesirables?� Julierudi sniffs. �They aren�t the right kind.�

�You mean native Erethrans,� I say as Ali shoots me the data he�s picked out. It takes only a glance to tell the truth. For a galaxy-spanning empire, it�s still the native Erethrans who hold the majority of the positions at the top. Well. Except for the initiates being trained by me. Which� is interesting.

Huh.

Sometimes I can be a bit oblivious.

�I meant those with the right Classes, the right heritage and training,� Julierudi says. �Those you speak of have little to contribute. Most never make it past Basic Class.�

I grunt, deciding to stop arguing. For one thing, I don�t know enough to say if it�s a structural problem or an actual societal one. Classes matter. A bad Class mix, especially in a militaristic society like this, might be a real problem. If a race trends toward artists and entertainers, they wouldn�t do well in Erethra. Then again�

I shake my head. �Seems simplistic.�

�The numbers are there. If you care to look,� Julierudi says. �The military is open to everyone. Whether they take the offer or not, that is up to them. And once they�ve served their time, they are welcome to move to other planets, to find opportunity elsewhere.�

I offer her a nod, acknowledging her point. I�m sure it�s more complicated than that, but at least I have her stance. And I know what to expect, in part at least. She won�t come after me or the initiates. Not yet. Not until I�ve shown myself to be her enemy. Or a problem.

While I�m contemplating the future, Julierudi stands, smoothing her dress down. �I should continue circulating. There are a few others I�d love to speak with. I�ll trust you and your men to do what is best for the Empire. You might not agree with our society, with what we�ve built, but it has lasted thousands of years. Which is more than most can say.�

As I watch her leave, I can�t help but reflect on her words. As much as I�d like to discount her words, she�s right. For all the flaws in their system, all the problems that I can see, they�ve survived. Where other empires, other kingdoms, other dynasties have fallen.

She glides off, already turning on the charm as she meets another of her wayward guests. And I contemplate the arrogance of wanting to change an entire Empire as an outsider.

***

Morning light peeks out from the horizon, slowly working its way up. I know the dawn will be on us quickly now that the sun has begun its rise. Daylight comes fast on this planet, at least this time of year. The planet�s second moon hangs overhead, glittering with sunlight. After the ball, we�d used a public Portal to hop back to Pauhiri just so that we could rest in peace. Even if the residence they�ve given me isn�t mine, we�ve taken steps to fortify its security.

Turning from the windows�which are already darkening at my behest�I stare at my companion. Her eyes are closed, her breathing deep and even. There�s a smell coming from her body�flowery and light with that hint of nutmeg that I�ve realized is all hers. I know it�s a tech upgrade, nanites working deep within to ensure her olfactory residue is pleasant for her companion. Have to admit, it works. But her hair is disarrayed, coral ears twisted, sheets carelessly discarded with a single foot out. So different from my other companions.

Roxley would be out of bed already, on his neural link and notification screens, working hard as he stretched out muscles. Every moment, every second packed with work and Leveling. Of course, he�d stop the moment he realized I was awake, to join me for breakfast or a meal. But he�d always have that hint of impatience as he longed to get back to work. Impatient to get back to Leveling, to rebuilding his prestige, his people that he�d once failed.

Lana was a morning person too, but she loved lounging in bed. She�d work because she felt it was necessary, because people counted on us. But she�d do it in bed, hair disarrayed, that bountiful, curly red mop of hers splayed around the pillows. If we had any. The gods know, we spent more of our time moving from city to city, fighting monsters, than staying in a single bed. Our times together were rushed, intense� and often heart-breaking in their tenderness.

As for Catrin, it�s lovely. She�s athletic, skilled, and willing to give time and patience. Willing to let me set the tone of our relationship, while insisting on lazing around, sleeping in late. For all that, there�s a distance between us. One I�m not sure either of us really wants to bridge. Our time together is lovely, it�s professional, but it�s not real. What we have, it lies between a one-night stand and a relationship. And if I was the kind of person who brooded about relationships, I�d be concerned about it.

But�

Yeah, fine. I do, but only mildly. Too much of my mind, too much of my life is caught up in other pressures. Like the nosebleed I woke up to as my mind continued to process the library. I had to discard the pillow, store it away to hide the evidence.

�Morning.� Catrin greets me with a smile and a quick kiss. It�s minty and fresh, unlike my own. Nanites again. But she doesn�t complain about my breath. �Admiring, or do you intend to do something about it?�

I briefly consider but discard the idea. I have something else to ask her. �What did you think?�

�Of?�

�Last night. Brerdain and Julierudi. The nobles.� I gesture around. �All this.�

�This being the initiates?� When I nod, Catrin smiles. �Are you really looking for my opinion?�

�I have a feeling your opinion will be quite illuminating.� I open my Skill again, staring at the threads that dance across her form. Stare at the ones that reach into the palace and back into the city, the myriad numbers that fly into space. I let them fade a little from my notice so that I can more easily see the changes as she speaks.

Catrin regards me for a moment before she sits up, pulling the blanket along with her to cover her chest. With her other hand, she nudges displaced hair back into place. �Krenmock is going to ignore you. In fact, he was working on a coalition to block your actions. I�d be surprised if he hasn�t requested additional bodyguards from the Guilds.�

A quick mental query to Ali sets the Spirit to searching.

�If you really are going to kill him, you also need to deal with his family.�

Her words surprise me, and I have to ask for clarification.

�A wife who loves him, a husband who hates him, and his four children. Of those, you can expect to have to kill the wife and the husband and two of his children. The youngest is probably too low Level for you to worry about.� Catrin flicks her fingers, and notification windows bloom, providing me biographical information on those she speaks about. I glance through them quickly, realizing that most are in the low Master or Advanced Class stages. Only the two youngers are really low Leveled. The first hasn�t even reached the age of System majority; the other is struggling up the mid-ranks of his Basic Class.

�Are you certain I�ll have to kill them?�

�Most likely. His partners are fully complicit in his actions and are unlikely to change their minds, even after his disposal. Unless you intend to remove him from power and give it to someone else, they�ll still be in charge,� Catrin says. �Even if you did hand over ownership, the new nobles would have to deal with the loyal retainers.�

�Yeah, I wasn�t exactly thinking of rebuilding the entire noble sector for them.� It would probably be a more elegant solution, but I have other things to deal with. Never mind the fact that I have absolutely no idea who to give his peerage to. �But what makes you think his family wouldn�t stop after I kill Krenmock?�

�Pride. You don�t become and stay a noble for as long as they have and just give in to the first threat.�

�And the kids?�

�They might change, but they�d still have to confront you. You could never be safe with them out there,� Catrin says this blithely, as if murdering people just because they�re an inconvenience in the future is acceptable.

And I guess it is. For them. I�d object about how callous this is, but I�ve realized that for the Galactics, life is cheap. Any life but their own.

�The Viscountess won�t take action until you do. But if you do kill him, she�ll be forced to act.�

�Because he�s part of her standing?� I ask.

�Yes. Whether or not she likes them, whether or not she agrees with his actions, she can�t let you chip away at her faction and do nothing.�

I sigh. Nothing she says is particularly new or surprising. And maybe I shouldn�t have threatened his life. Any action I take after this that doesn�t involve me taking his head will make me look weak. Realistically, what I want to do is deal with the blockade. Not him.

I do wonder if Catrin�s viewpoint is slightly wrong. After all, to stop me after I kill Brerdain, Julierudi would have to kill me. Kill the initiates maybe. And if that happens, they�ll have no other choice but take part in the civil war that will come since there was no other option for the inheritance. Is losing one member of her faction worth that?

Then again, it�s only a risk if she thinks I won�t pick her. And if I destroy her base, she might take it as a sign that I�m not looking favorably upon her candidacy. I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming along.

Catrin make a little sound in her throat and shifts to lay a kiss upon my lips. Dawn light continues to filter in, slowly brightening the room as the windows note our increased wakefulness. It�s a gradual process, just like I prefer.

�And Brerdain?� I asked her while reaching for the sheets and pulling them over her body to keep her warm. And to lower the distractions.

�I can�t see how he�d object to your actions.� She shrugs, shifting the sheets and threatening her decorum again with each motion. �He�s never liked the nobles. All his objections surround the recruits and what they might do.�

I finally give in to her distractions. I�ve gotten what I wanted as I watch the threads across her body pulse. I release my Skill and roll over, pinning her down before I begin my assault on her lips and skin.

***

�So?� Ali floats beside me as I walk out of my residence to my designated Portal zone.

Having been cleared to jump around�on a limited basis�has made my life so much easier. As I take in the weirdly colored vegetation of the planet, I mentally locate the image of my destination.

�About what we thought,� I say. My conversation with Catrin confirmed some suspicions and musings, which means phase two is a go. But to get there, I have to have a conversation with my designated aides.

I step through the Portal, only to be greeted by Saimon and Braxton. Like most Portal and teleportation locations, I�ve been dumped into a carefully reinforced security room, one that has numerous safeguards and security weaponry in place. I stride off the platform and grin at the pair.

�Did you get my list?� I say.

�We did. The Chief wants to know what is going on. It might behoove you to actually talk to him,� Lord Braxton says. �Just because we can, doesn�t make it right, for us to take these units. Especially when withdrawing them from a variety of armies.�

�A variety?� Ali asks.

�We thought it better that we not draw down any single force.� Saimon explains. �It makes it more polite. Also, it doesn�t allow them to accuse us of favoritism.�

�But we have enough, right?� I don�t really care about the politics, not yet at least. I�m more concerned that we have what we need.

�Six teams, ten members each, as per your specifications,� says Lord Braxton. �In addition, they all have their designated assault shuttles and destroyers, ready for your use.�

It�s not a large force the way an Empire counts things. Not even when you account for the Levels I asked for. Still, all of the team members are close to Master Class, and some already are. It means that they�ve got more punching power than the raw numbers would indicate. The teams� smaller sizes is why Brerdain�s only making noises about wanting me to talk to him, rather than demanding I do so.

�And the logistic basis and the necessary permits?�

�All done. They�ll go public in a day,� says Saimon. �We also have the permit for your friend who has arrived. He�ll be here tomorrow.�

That last sentence makes me grin. It�s been a long time since I�ve seen Dornalor�not since he quite resolutely turned down the production of his ship in Erethra. I�m really curious to see what he�s done with his share of the earnings.

�Well, that was fast. We could�ve done all this by email,� I say, lips twisting in a grin. When the pair of them don�t react to my amusement, I sigh and throw my hands in the air. �Galactic language packs really don�t do humor well, do they?�

�No. You�re just not funny, boy-o.�

I ignore the damn Spirit, confirm what Society�s Web tells me about the pair, sign a few more documents, then I open up a Portal. I can�t wait to meet my initiates after their break. I�m sure they�re just dying to know what stage two is all about.

Chapter 16

The wind kicks up, blasting against my face, throwing up dirt and debris as the ship lands. It�s a gorgeous ship, long and sharp-nosed to keep the vessel streamlined. Silver paint with just a touch of gold and blue lining on the edges. Bulbous equipment slots carry missiles, and gun turrets sit on the wings, carefully reshaped by projected force fields for atmospheric flying. Even from here, I can see how the weapons can pivot, shift, and retarget in full 360-degree angles. Multiple jets are arrayed along the wings, helping guide the ship and hurl it forward, aided by the main engines at the back.

Just before it lands, the ship�s main engines switch off, engines in the wings altering direction and angle to do a vertical landing. Landing struts emerge from the ship itself, and it lands with the gentlest of thumps. I eye the bird, data about the ship scrolls past my eyes.

Nothing�s Heartbreak II (Customized Cyrus Fast Destroyer v 172.5)

Core: Cyrus Fast Destroyer v 172.5

Speed: 12.8 Doms

Processing Unit & Software: Class A Xylik Core

Armor Rating (Space): Tier I

Stealth Rating (Space): Tier I*

Hard Points: 14 (9 Used)

Soft Points: 21 (14 Used)

Crew: 1 (+4 Maintenance Drones)

Crew Capacity: 7

Weaponry: 4 x Ares 8.2 Miu Beam Turrets, 6 x OneLir Missile Turrets

Defense: 4 x qBitum Point-Defense Force Shields, 1 x Repulsive Blurza Field, 24 x Point Defense Lasers

Core Durability: 100% (more�)

As the data streams in, I�m amused that I still have vice-captain privileges. After I lost him his vessel, I was sure Dornalor was going to bitch me out before letting me in. Once the engines die, the personnel doors open and Dornalor walks out, shading his head with one hand.

�I see you�ve planned for me,� I can�t help but tease the pirate. Beyond being a general upgrade over the first Heartbreak, the second Heartbreak also has a much higher number of redundant systems. Nearly half of the hard points and a quarter of the soft points in the ship are used for redundant systems.

�Oh, trust me. I�m adding it to your bill,� Dornalor replies, crossing his arms in distaste.

I grunt, walking up to greet the man even as the rest of the team makes their presence known. Mikito, on the ground, uncrosses her legs as she finishes her meditation. Bolo flicks his fingers, dismissing the TV show he was watching with Ali, offering the pirate a grin. And Harry hurries over, tucking in his pants, a smear of lipstick still on his lips.

As I greet the ghatotkaca, I sigh mentally. Everyone I�ve been meeting recently is bigger than me. Like Bolo, Dornalor�s nine feet tall, but unlike the Dragon Lord, he�s entirely hairless, with a head shaped like a pot and a weird, dandelion-yellow skin.

Dornalor Xyrralei, Journeyman Trader (Master Merchant Captain Level 3) (M)

HP: 420/420

MP: 5490/5490

Conditions: Shortened Trade Routes, Shipboard Awareness, Hyperspace Fold, In His Place, Mana Drip

�Level 3 Master Class?� I splutter when I notice his Status. Even if it�s mostly a lie, his Skill isn�t good enough to hide his base Class tier. �Weren�t you just Level 1 when I left? What the hell did you guys do?� I shoot an accusatory glare at Mikito and Bolo.

�Nothing. Nothing happened,� Bolo waves his hands. �Isn�t that right, Dornalor? Nothing that the Redeemer needs to know.� He fixes the grinning Pirate Captain with a look and pulses his Dragon Fear, just once.

Dornalor�s grin only fades a little since he�s still standing on his ship�s gangplank.

�Bolo�� I mutter. I stare at Dornalor since I know the Dragon Lord isn�t going to tell me.

Dornalor hums, that pot-head rocking from side to side. It�s weird, especially since he doesn�t have ears, but in the end, the grin widens as I growl impatiently. �Nah, it�s more fun watching you twitch. I won�t tell.�

I glare at the pair before I look at Mikito.

�It�s settled. Relax,� Mikito says, patting the air as if she�s patting my shoulder. Or head. �Or don�t. We could use that anger.� With those words, she strolls up the gangplank, muttering appreciations to Dornalor as she regards the ship.

�Gah!�

�I could buy the information��

�Don�t bother. If it was really important, they�d tell me.� I say, only allowing a small smile to break out when they�re inside. I turn around, staring at the empty fields behind.

�She did say she wouldn�t see you off.�

�I know. Wasn�t what I was looking for.�

�Uh huh.�

I snort out loud and ascend the ship. I know, in other fields, the rest of the initiates are doing the same. Soon enough, I have to brief them. Just before I slap the blast doors closed, I look back at the empty fields.

Once more into the breach.

Or something like that.

***

It takes a bit of time before we�re up in space, but once we are, I open comms to everyone. Six displays, one for each of the remaining Paladin initiates, hover beside me. In a smaller window, identical ships are displayed�the vessels that the initiates will be in command of. I know I said that we can�t really rely on the Erethran Armed Forces for support, but needs must. Anyway, with the data we had, we filtered out the untrustworthy.

Exactly how well we did, we�ll find out. But among the requirements they had for this portion of their training was deciding who and what their team would look like. What I won�t tell them is if I have time, I�m going to take a gander at all of their choices later on with Society�s Web. It�s not a foolproof method, but it might raise some interesting and unspoken alliances.

Each of the ships they�re in, the Randolf III model, is in general classification, similar to the Nothing�s Heartbreak. That means they�re midsize military scout ships, armed to the teeth, but more focused on speed and stealth than being able to slug it out. Unlike Dornolar�s, which has a few specific spots to allow people like Bolo and myself to make use of our Skills, the military vessels are geared toward tech solutions to the firepower question. On the other hand, their ships are also much higher-rated for speed. They�re also configured to use a higher variety of disposable stealth drones, unlike Dornalor�s.

�Welcome to phase two, ladies and gentlemen,� I say, and the group shifts slightly, staring at me in impatience. �One of the things you�re going to have to learn is that actions have consequences. And that our job isn�t just swooping in, killing a bunch of people, and moving on. If you want to do your job properly, as a Paladin, you have to make sure that the unintended consequences of your actions, and the intended ones, all play out the way you need them to.�

Memory rises, of a conversation with another. We�re seated at home, a blasted, shattered remnant of a cave holed out from the mountain by a missed attack. Cracks from overheated stone abound in the ceilings and walls. The ground is the only thing that doesn�t move, and that�s because she�s taken the time to use a spell to fix it up. In fact, most of the furniture is reshaped earth, easy to use, easy to discard.

Over cups of fermented mucus and vegetable matter, we rest. It�s been another long, exhausting day of fighting on the walls. Technically speaking, having both of us off the walls is not necessarily a good idea. But with Blink Step and Portal, getting where we need to be isn�t too difficult. And at a certain point, we all need a break.

�Why am I here? Unintended consequences. And obligations.� Suhargur laughs bitterly, waving the dented mug around. It�s not even a real mug, but a torn and reshaped plate of armor with a hand etched onto it in a slipshod manner. Not that she gives a damn, since it holds alcohol just as well. �I screwed up. Should never have killed them. Should have stayed behind, waited another month, another year. But I was impatient. There was always something else to do. I thought it was fine, that we�I�had fixed the problem. There was other work, other quests to finish. And I was so alone then. But I was wrong. And they slipped from normal to Restricted to Forbidden. All because I killed them.�

I try to protest, to point out that she couldn�t have known this would happen.

�Doesn�t matter. Learn from me. Learn from this. Always finish the job. The real job. Protect the Empire, not the system.�

Memory fades, and I find everyone still looking at me. Waiting. This time, luckily, it was only a few seconds. It just seems like a very long pause.

�The planet we just saved needs immigrants. Problem is, the only people who would immigrate to a Restricted Planet are undesirables. People who are born in Forbidden Zones, rim planets where the Empire has yet to complete rebuilding. Those who have no hope of a better life where they are. Failures, rejects, even deserters and draft dodgers.�

Magine, Kino, and Gheisnan react at the last group. Interesting to note, but not surprising to some ways.

�Currently, they�re being blocked from immigrating.� A hand waves, a map appears. �Conventional immigration routes, the routes our targets need to use, mostly flow through Lord Ucald�s holdings. Most are turned back, delayed. Others are thrown into jail, forced to work in mines and other undesirable locations because they can be targeted.� I shake my head. �Lord Ucald has been informed to stop that bullshit. He�s refused. Your job is to show him the error of his ways.�

Silence lingers until Anayton speaks up. �And how are we supposed to do that?�

�With violence, of course,� Freif says.

�What kind?� Anayton replies bitingly.

�First test. You tell me,� I say, crossing my arms. I have ideas, but it will be interesting to see what they have to say.

�Kill him,� Magine says.

Freif nods immediately.

Gheisnan, the little Pooskeen who has to hover in the air just so that he can reach the console, objects. �No. Even more unintended consequences. We�d have to deal with the succession.�

�And if we let him get away with ignoring the Paladin�us�we create even more trouble in the future,� Magine says, shaking his head. �Better to kill him now and make it clear the kind of Paladins we are.�

�We could hit his holdings. Take them all out,� Ropo offers. �Ulcer-refuse nobles all hate losing their stuff. If we take them away, he�d get the point. And it�d make a much stronger point than just killing him.�

�Death is a very strong point,� Freif says.

�Slow. Attacks on his holdings are slow. And we don�t have the expertise to take away any illiquid assets,� Kino says. �The immigrants are being targeted now. We need to fix that immediately.�

Gheisnan�s eyes go unfocused, his lips moving wordlessly. I stare at them for a second before realizing he�s muttering in Pooskeen. Which I�ve picked up a few words of here and there, but not enough to lipread. Anayton has caught sight of the little Pooskeen triggering his Skills and shushes the group. She fails, as Magine, Ropo, and Kino continue to argue their points.

As for me, I stand there, hands behind my back as the ships head out of the local gravity wells. We could open up hyperspace jumps close in, but it�s a significant toll on the engines. Easier and better to do it outside the local gravity wells, when Skills and tech don�t have to strain as much.

We�re in no rush.

After five minutes of increasingly angry conversations between the initiates, Gheisnan looks up. Watching them argue is interesting, since it�s all very professional but heated. Well, except for Ropo, but constant, inventive cursing is his way of speaking.

When the Pooskeen first starts talking, no one listens. He has to let out a piercing, deep-in-the-back-of-the-throat shriek to shut them all up. It makes ears hurt, though the Erethrans seem more affected than the others.

�Checked the paths of the pack. Killing by Magine is bad. He dies. Killing by Freif works. Till he is killed later. Other paths are slow, uncertain of results. I smell blood, a lot of blood on all paths,� Gheisnan says, ears turning down. �There are no paths where success is guaranteed and quick.�

�No, there aren�t,� I say. �You�re going up against an entire position. A powerful noble house. And they�ll be bringing in more help from outside.�

�Then let�s negotiate,� Ropo says. Magine and Freif nod reluctantly. �I might not like the moon-cratered, pustulant corpses, but they�ve likely got a good reason. Over and above their slime-infested Credit accounts. Reducing manpower on civilized planets for a Restricted Planet is a poor trade-off anyway.�

�Not your decision,� Kino rumbles, crossing his arms. �They have chosen. We have the right to choose.�

�Goblin shit. The immigrants just don�t know better. Better for us to send them where they won�t die in a few months,� Magine says. �I don�t think we should let him defy us, but Lord Ucald has a point in stopping them. Restricted zones aren�t for the under-Leveled. They�ll be happy when they understand what we�re doing for them.�

�Not your decision,� Kino rumbles again, even more angrily.

�Enough. You guys can argue about politics. Right now, we have our marching orders.� Anayton draws a deep breath. �What if we did it all?�

�All?� Magine asks

�Everything that�s been suggested,� Anayton says.

Gheisnan is already going cross-eyed, running his Skills.

I interrupt, figuring I should clarify before things get out of hand. �No killing the noble immediately.�

�But it�s still on the table?� says Freif.

�Nothing is ever off the table.� I give the initiates a wolfish grin. No need to get them too excited about the idea of killing though, not unless we really have to.

�Understood,� Gheisnan says before he falls silent. I watch as he runs the math, using his skills to look at the future.

I know of transcendent strategists who can take plans and do the same, analysts who look for the most likely scenarios. I�m curious to see what he comes up with, what his Skills tell him. The problem with Skills like his is that they all look at an uncertain future, one that is constantly altered as others activate their own Skills. As mortals, giving into whims, alter their choices. And all of it under the shadow of beings who might as well be gods.

�Better. Less blood. There were fewer trails leading off, but still. Danger, enemies all around,� Gheisnan finally speaks up. �Too many ending in his death. Lord Ucald.�

�That sounds about right,� I say. �So you�ve got your marching orders. And a failing grade. Most you guys really need to start thinking outside of a single-point solution. I know you�re used to taking orders, having a clear objective. But as Paladins, you�re going to be struggling with multiple objectives, unclear final results, and solutions that might not be perfect. Iterative fixes rather than a single solution will be your future. Remember that. Otherwise you�re just going to be back at the start, making the same damn mistakes all the time.�

It reminds me a lot of building websites for companies, throwing something, anything, up to fix the client�s needs. As good as you can, but only eighty percent rather than a hundred of what they asked for. Then you move on.

Because the budget is out, your time limit is over. And in the end, they�ll come back, asking for another change, another alteration. Because their business has changed, the environment has changed, or they just thought of something new, and that last twenty percent doesn�t matter anymore. Iterative changes on an ongoing basis. It certainly kept the company in business, and me, bored.

�Were you always going to have us do this?� Freif says.

�Yup. Unless you guys came up with something brilliant,� I admit quite readily. �Your marching orders should be downloaded into your ship�s computers. We�re splitting you guys up, taking his assets, freeing up some of those already taken, and dealing with this interdiction.� I stare at the more confident group, watching as they look happier with a clearer set of marching orders. �Just because violence is the easiest option here doesn�t mean you have to keep reaching for it. A lot of the time, you should be able to talk your way to a better solution.

�I recommend you do so.� I fall silent for a time, waiting to see what they have to say. If they have anything else to say.

They do. Mostly to deal with the details of the orders. One thing that gets clarified is that they�ll be swapping out regularly. Won�t be much of a test if they all don�t get a chance to experience the different aspects.

Once the initiates ships jump out, I turn around to see my team standing by, looking highly amused. �What?�

�Just funny, seeing you be responsible. Recommending they talk rather than beat people up,� Harry explains.

�I can hope they can be better than me, no?� I offer them a half-smile, thinking of the poor initiates. My trainees. Is this what it�s like to have kids? If so, they�re doomed. For we paint our children with the colors of our failures, then somehow expect them to be better than us.

�And us?� Bolo says.

�Doing what they can�t.�

That�s the problem with sending a bunch of Advanced Classers to do this. The targets they�ve been given, they�re just about manageable for their Level and team. But we�re facing an entire solar system and a bit of trouble. There are targets the initiates can�t touch, not alone.

Good thing I�ve got a team of my own.

***

We jump in just above the battleship. The thing is huge, a floating rectangular structure. Impulse occurs from numerous engines placed throughout the structure, allowing it to shift direction in ways that no atmospheric craft is ever engineered to do. Of course, considering its size, re-entry into a planet would cause problems. It�s a couple of kilometers across one edge, more reminiscent of a Borg cube than anything I�d expect to see. Which makes �above� a rather loose concept.

We blip in, and immediately, Dornalor maneuvers for the closest entrance dock. Once we�re close enough that momentum will slingshot us in, he uses the equivalent of a railgun system to launch us.

�Target locks everywhere,� Harry calls out moments later.

Beams of criss-crossing energy target the Heartbreak�or where the ship should be. But Skills, technology, and a little bit of subterfuge keep us safe for a few seconds as we fool the sensors, allowing the Nothing�s Heartbreak to begin its jump protocols while white death enlivens the area a short hundred meters away.

If not for the auto-generated overlays in my helmet, there�d be no way to spot the lasers criss-crossing space. Not until they struck. The railguns and mass drivers, on the other hand, are much clearer to see�for variations of clear for things moving at thousands of kilometers a second. Point-defense is mostly lasers though, since by the time most missiles activate, the attacks or the enemies would be gone.

I turn my attention to my own problems, even as chatter from Harry playing copilot fills the channels. Dornalor replies with grunts, focused on flying the ship and keeping it hidden. My problems in this case are the second layer of defenses�close-in mines. These things aren�t even that powerful, they�re just numerous, locked into place by a Mana field. They�re so dense, there�s no way for anything larger than a cat to float through without trigger them. By the time I notice, consider action, and dismiss most options, I�m already touching the mines.

�That tickles!� Bolo laughs as he plows feet first through the explosions.

Mikito�s much more stoic when she goes through, but the mines are just an early warning signal. The retargeting of nearby point-defense is the more important thing.

I watch as lasers wash over me, lighting up my Force Shields, ticking down their durability. But I�ve got an idea, so I reach out. Toward the fast-spreading energy from the explosions, toward the closest mines. And I tap into my affinity, my gift from Ali. It�s not a Skill. It�s not even really part of the System. Much like Spells or Mana, it�s categorized and subsumed to some portion, but it�s not part of the System itself. It�s something older, more innate.

And it lets me adjust the level of energy, lower the resistances, and increase the sensitivity of materials around me. Mana Sense reaches out at the same time, almost unconsciously, and I find myself manipulating the Mana-reinforced nature of the metal, the System-generated strength of the drones. I find myself tapping into the edges of the System, seeing the weird System-glyphs as I do so, the way they affect things. I don�t try to adjust them, but the Mana around them.

Explosions begin, but my mind and sense are racing ahead, moving faster than light itself as I hop-scotch between mines. They go off, one after another, creating a daisy chain effect all across the side of the battleship at first, then crossing over to the other sides. My head pounds, but the defense system is over-loading, point-defense lasers targeting non-existent enemies before the AI shuts it down and begins recalibrating its decision tree.

My feet slam into the bulkhead, creating a minor crater. I trigger the Abyssal Chains, hooking myself down as magnetic boots fail to hold. I use the Chains to drag myself to the docking bay doors which Bolo and Mikito, more focused on their landing, are already tearing apart.

I do all this subconsciously, while my concentration focuses on spreading the explosions. Focuses on the new mines being ejected outward, tracing them back, and setting them off. Shutting down point-defense, creating problems as internal batteries light up.

Ali floats alongside me, his face strained. What I�m doing is being aided by the Spirit, his greater expertise and Affinity multiplying my results. The battleship rumbles and bucks slightly, contained explosions as ammunition stores deep within the ship go off under our manipulation. Contained, but still dangerous.

�We�re in!� Mikito shouts across party chat, bringing my attention back fully.

I spot Bolo ducking in even as fire targets him. Mikito follows seconds later.

By the time I enter, the breach they created is half-closed by flowing liquid metal. I tear through with my powered armor, shedding melted metal on my Soul Shield as I fall in, artificial gravity twisting me in the air. A second later, I refresh my Soul Shield as I search for my enemies.

There�s nothing left to do. The pair have torn apart the droids and sailors within. I feel a flash of guilt as I notice the floating corpses. A Yerrick floats, missing his lower half, intestines unraveling in space, frost and ice crystals floating away from him. The majority of the corpses are Erethran though, all of them dressed in orange-and-pale-indigo house uniforms.

They�re dead because I couldn�t think of a better way to do this. They were just doing their jobs�

Then I dismiss it. The guilt, the pain, it can all be dealt with later. For now, we have a job to do. Get to the command center and deal with the captain. No time for guilt, not with everything moving so fast. So I focus.

For I�m getting left behind.

I rush through wrecked corridors, defensive doors and installations rent apart. Occasional floors are smashed open as the pair take a faster and more direct way to our goal. They make good time, often not even bothering to deal fully with sailors and marines as they continue the assault.

�Down three corridors. He�s moving� teleport circle� on� We�re� bzzttzz� jam him�� Harry reports, his party chat flicking on and off as communication flickers in and out.

�Payout better be good�� Dornalor mutters.

I sense it when they jump in again, staying close to where I�ve destroyed some of the point-defense. A momentary pause, then the Heartbreak deploys jamming drones to stop our target from fleeing.

I catch up to my team when they get stymied. They�re in an all-out brawl as they face off against a team of Advanced Classers and a Master Class bodyguard. Mikito�s on the Master Classer, polearm cutting and blocking beams as the man opens fire. Four arms and another half dozen metallic tentacles are in play, each of them firing at Mikito as she struggles forward, deflecting beam after beam. What he doesn�t see is the ghostly horse she conjures behind him, charging forward.

Bolo�s busy fighting the team. Unlike other groups, they aren�t trying to face him directly. Instead, they hit him with slowing spells, momentum-robbing Skills, and gluing grenades. Trying to stop him from moving. They take away his friction, quadruple his weight, debuff his Strength. When that fails, their tank blocks him off with conjured shields. The Dragon Lord�s struggling to get to them as they dodge out of the way and kite him forward.

�Go! We have them,� Mikito snaps when I slow down.

In answer, I cut downward with my Blade Strike, tear a hole into the floor, and drop, ignoring the blasts and spells that follow and ping off my resistances. They�re powerful spells, but Hod�s and my resistances to Skills and spells are incredibly high. As is Bolo�s�but they�ve had a lot more time to debuff him.

�Goblin�s nest!�

�The hag�s hanging tits, he�s getting away!�

I laugh softly to myself, barrel past the next group that gets in the way, and keep going. An elbow to the face of the only marine dumb enough to not move aside brings him down. Ali shoots ahead of me, turning the corner, and I watch beams and a couple of missiles impact the corner. Moments later, he lights up the waiting defensive point with lightning.

In the corner of my vision, I spot the moving purple dot reach its destination. I pour on the speed, using Haste, the Aura of Chivalry, and even Thousand Steps to clear the way and speed me along, Blink Stepping every time there�s an open space and the spatial lock falls below my ability to breach it. Trading pain and health for speed.

The last corridor shows up soon enough, and I trigger Vanguard of the Apocalypse. Ali�s ahead of me, already engaged in battle. He�s bleeding light as the Mage and dimensional weaponry tear into his energy form, ripping him apart. No way to Blink Step closer, no way to Portal�they�ve tripled the Spatial Lock here. So I swing my sword, sending Blade Strikes down the way, and toss my knives, watching as they cut through armor and defense and pin the defenders to the bulkheads.

Unlike many of those we faced before, they�re all armed and armored in full power armor. It glitters yellow and pale-blue, sleek and beautiful and meant for shipboard action. Faces covered in non-reflective helmets, personal force shields buzzing. All of them are dressed and ready to do war, anti-Master Class beam cannons and defensive shields emplaced before them.

It�s not enough, even as the beams burn through the Hod�s defensive shield. Not enough to slow me down. Not enough to stop me from closing in or destroying their defenses.

Vanguard of the Apocalypse is built for charges like this, for that last-minute clash just before you hit an enemy line. It boosts my speed, my recover, adds itself to all the momentum generated from my other spells and Skills. So when I hit the flickering vestiges of the force shields, I go through them like an arrow through a soap bubble.

The metal barriers formed from the floor are like wet tissue paper, and the people behind are impaled on the blades of my Thousand Blades Skill. Thrown aside, disoriented.

As for the actual doors? Those are a little more difficult to break through. I find myself bouncing off them, the accumulated momentum wasted as the doors warp. I snarl, spin, and cut, watching as my conjured blades tear into them.

My enemies don�t stop, some of them grappling with the lightning tentacles Ali wields, others jumping in with daggers and shivs, trying to cut through Hod�s armor. I trigger the next use of Abyssal Chains and lock them down, rather than fight, and kick at the door again. Penetration is my main Skill, my most powerful ability, and even a simple kick is enough to shatter the weakened doors.

I stride in, smoke curling up around my armor, warning klaxons going off all around me. An underhand toss of a Mana Dispersal grenade disrupts the building teleport, shutting it down for a brief moment.

�Paladin! You cannot do this,� the target screams, bald face sweaty, eyeliner running slightly, her admiral�s uniform wrinkled and torn, smoking slightly as the teleporter sparks, sending energy surging through her body and failing as the grenade eats away at the Mana.

Next to her, weapons drawn in heavy hands, the rest of her staff stand.

I flick my hand sideways, sending the Toothy Daggers into the teleporter and saving up on Mana. The teleporter blows up, the Mana dispersal grenade and the added damage enough to override whatever safeties it might have.

�Watch me.�

***

Clean up, after I capture the enemy Admiral, takes a little longer. Bolo and Mikito have to make their way to the power cores before the crew eventually decides they can�t afford to piss us off further. We have to fight off a couple of Advanced teams each and two more Master Classers. Still, we�re lucky. I don�t think anyone expected us to take this kind of action.

Once we�re secure, we kick off every single crew member but the Admiral and select staff. Mostly high-Level Advanced Classers and the couple of Masters Classers who survived. The rest of the crew are released into space.

In escape shuttles and capsules. We�re not monsters.

Dornalor is laughing his ass off as he slaves the giant battleship to his own and hyperjumps us in unison, seconds ahead of the retaliation. We jump three times, losing our tails as Dornalor does his magic. Then we�re back in Erethran Empire-controlled space, floating above the capital planet.

Of course, Ayuri shouts at me for a bit. The Queen sniffs at me in a very brief conversation. But they take possession of the ship and the men, as per my orders.

And then we turn around. To do it all over again.

Chapter 17

�Six battleships, including his flagship, the Titan of the Seven Nebulas. Two space stations, half a dozen mining locations, two prison complexes, and one fortified palace in one month,� Empress Hasbata glowers at me over the communicator, projected larger than life into the cockpit of the Heartbreak as we float in the dead space between the stars. And somehow, her projection is still smaller than her presence, the pressure she�s emitting.

In the corner of my eyes, just below in the pilot and copilot�s seats, Dornalor and Harry are white-knuckling their chairs. They can barely breathe, her presence a physical weight upon our chests. Bolo�s lounging out of sight, looking blas� about the whole situation. Except for the strain in his eyes, the way he cracks his neck every once in a while. Mikito�s smarter, hiding in the engine room, taking care of the ship.

�Seems low,� I say, doing my best to keep my face neutral. �Doesn�t it sound low?� I turn to Ali, who is giving me wide-eyed looks of horror.

�Those are just your personal team�s numbers!� the Empress snaps. �Are you trying to weaken my Empire?�

�Most of them are in one piece,� I say. �We�ll be able to return them once this is over. And the damage the initiates are doing, that can�t be helped. Doesn�t really matter anyway. They just have secondary locations.�

�Doesn�t matter?� Her nostrils flare, so small that they�re almost imperceptible. She leans forward, growling out her next words. The Aura she bends on me increases even further. I should have had Dornalor jump us outside the Empire for this talk. That way her Aura would be less severe. �Are you trying to have me order your death? That�s millions of Credits and hundreds of lives! Advanced and Basic Classers we have built up over years.�

�And the immigrants, the refugees, and travelers he had taken?� I reply irately. �There were two Master Classers we found chained to their desks in those prisons. A dozen more Advanced Classers at the highest Levels. All trapped, forced to work for him. For� trespassing.� I spit the word, shaking my head.

Of course the legal terms he�d used were more complex. Entry without permits. Fines for non-payment of the permits. Problems with their transportation that resulted in more fines. Lack of permits for Skills or spells, for transportation. All of it just so that they could capture those who traveled through.

And, of course, it worked. Because anyone traveling by mundane means or via short-hop teleportation is doing so because they can�t afford the more expensive, long-range teleportation.

�Duke Ucald grew their Skills��

�By selling their work. And then buying more materials and making them work on it again and again,� I snap, pressing down with my legs against the bulkhead floor to burn off some energy. �He�s been doing this for two decades, and you did nothing about it. So yeah, I have to break a few eggs. But he had it coming.�

Memory comes back, recollection of the blood-soaked month. Thirty-five days, as per their calendar. Our first attacks went well, then his reinforcements poured in, teleportations of his best people. Things had gotten hairy for a bit as we fought his guard, his eldest son�who I�d been forced to kill�and the reinforcements from other nobles and a couple of mercenary guilds.

They�d even managed to track Dornalor down once. If not for the fact that the pirate is professionally paranoid, we�d have been caught. As it was, the close-in fission mines we�d set up had nearly torn the Heartbreak apart when they went off. Only the use of our combined Skills and me linking everything together, including Disengaging Safeties, had left us alive and limping out.

�Your actions have more consequences than just your problem with the Duke!� the Empress says. The chain around her neck trembles, swinging back and forth as she leans forward, glittering gold and emerald. �You are hardening their stance against you and your Paladins.�

�The Empire�s Paladins,� I correct. �And so be it. We aren�t going to stop until he stands down.�

The Queen tenses for a second then calms down, leaning back almost languidly. My danger sense pings, and I tense a little. �And if I ordered you to end this?�

�Then I�d say you�ve got the wrong person for the job,� I say. �Because I�m finishing what I started.�

She nods, her eyes tracking upward to my Status above my head. When her eyes move back down, they are cold as her words. An arctic wind, blowing across a lake when it�s -40 below. �Then end it. Soon.�

I don�t get to reply, as she kills the connection. The pair before me let out exhalations of relief in conjunction, while even Bolo relaxes further. As for me, I wipe my forehead, finding it slightly damp. Damn, but that woman can pressure.

�Well,� Ali says, floating back down through the ceiling from where he�s been hiding, �I guess we�re done.�

I purse my lips, hating to be pushed. But� she�s not wrong. It�s time to finish this.

�Call them back.�

***

It takes the initiates the better part of a day to arrive. The last ship to flash in is Ropo�s, and it does so in a dramatic fashion. The moment it materializes, alerts resound all across our notification windows. It�s leaking fuel and radiation, large rents torn across the starboard aft of the ship. It�s lost all of its cloaking abilities. Even the shadow skills of the Captain have been blasted away. Two-thirds of its weaponry is down, its main engines barely spluttering along. Repair drones deploy immediately, from ours and other ships nearby, burning fission materials as they near the damaged ship.

Ropo comes online seconds later, his bearded face half shorn of hair, burnt off in his latest scuffle. The bridge itself doesn�t look much better, nearly half of the consoles wrecked, sparking electricity and releasing wafts of smoke. Good thing that for most ships, the physical controls are only built as a secondary failsafe. System-enabled controls are faster and more efficient. They�re also more difficult to destroy. Though sometimes its easier to block. Thus, secondaries.

I draw a deep breath and dismiss the slight hint of funk that comes from not using a Cleanse spell for a full day and the remnants of chocolate bars on my breath. This time around, it was dark chocolate, the hard bitterness of the bar still present in my mouth, the slight hints of the strawberry and nougat lingering. I want another, but this isn�t time.

Whether it was because I was pulling the initiates out or because the universe has a strange sense of humor, the Duke launched his payback today. Because of that, the team had been struggling to disengage.

Ropo�s ship was the least worrisome. At least he made it. We lost Kino�s signal in the middle of the day, and even Harry�s access to the Shop cannot provide us details. They�ve locked it all down under multiple Skills. There�s no way to know whether anyone survived without finding out ourselves.

Some of the other ships have come out fine. Magine had finished his attack, leaving him free to scuttle off before they launched theirs. Gheisnan never planned to do an attack today. I can�t help but wonder how much of that was because he foresaw the attack. The rest were a mixed bag in between Ropo and Magine.

�Welcome back. I think that�s all of us not.� I nod to Ropo and gesture, reading the various communiques from the others.

The initiates have nothing to do with running the ships, so there�s no reason to delay our discussion. They all look a little harried, just a little stressed. Even if we have access to the Shop and have adequate inventory and supplies to keep us going, a month of hit-and-run tactics, ostensibly against allies, can make people grumpy and stressed.

�Any word about Kino?� Magine asks.

I�m a little surprised the Dueling addict has paid enough attention to even realize the Risen isn�t here. Then again, maybe that�s just me projecting my own biases.

�Nothing,� Harry answers for me, a frown etching his dark skin, deepening lines that are normally quite well hidden. �Not even an announcement of his victory.�

Surprising that. Our attacks have been local news, news that has grown more and more harried over the month as the attacks from �unknown sources� have escalated. The Duke has a bit of a PR problem, with the truth of our face-off kept from the public. Still, we�ve done enough damage that they can�t afford to say nothing.

�Did you know about the attacks?�Anayton is glaring at me, obviously having an answer to that question in her mind.

�Nope.� I shake my head, letting my gaze flick over the blue screens filled with the initiates� Statuses.

At the same time, I get a glimpse of our own cockpit displayed from the camera feed of the ship. Myself above in the vice-captain�s chair with full access to the system, Bolo at weapons and security console, and Mikito seated in the passenger chair behind. The new cockpit is big enough to fit all five of us, which is kind of nice.

�I had a call.� When my pronouncement doesn�t elicit a reaction, I continue. �From the Empress.�

That gets a reaction. More than one of the initiates hiss, and Freif mutters, �I knew it.� They all have the look of someone waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or a System notification to update, as the Galactics would say.

�She wants us to finish this. Now.�

There are a lot of firm nods, straightening of spines. No surprise there.

Most of them have been doing well. Picking their targets with care, exploiting holes in defenses, using fake-outs and overwhelming force as necessary. Just as importantly, they�ve also come into close contact with the policies of Duke Ucald. And even the most blas�, the most supportive�like Magine�have begun to see the problems.

It�s one thing to espouse intellectually sound policies, to weigh the lives of the masses against the needs of the few, to do what is right for the many at the expense of the minority. It�s another thing to look in the face of those few and tell them they aren�t worth it. To drag them out from their kennels, to unchain them from tables that have locked them in production forever. To stare at the children who ask you where their parents are. And know that you have no good answer.

Stage two was never really about training or Skill development. Stage two was all about reinforcing the only thing that�s truly important to a Paladin. We serve the Empire. And the Empire isn�t some corporate monolith or the nobles or some abstract series of rules and regulations that dictate the order of our lives. It�s not even the social structure that holds it all together.

The Empire, society, is about the people.

Maybe it doesn�t matter. Maybe some of them can look at the choices the Duke made for his own good, for the good of his domain, and call it fair and fine. Maybe all I�m doing is screaming into the dark. Maybe that�s okay too. Because we�re only a few, even with all the power we have. And if I�ve learnt one thing from the apocalypse and the library in my head, it�s that there�s no single solution. Maybe conflicting beliefs might be able to right wrongs in all kinds of places.

�What�s the plan?� Gheisnan asks, ears curling down around his head.

�Duke Ucald has doubled down, refusing to change. We can�t make him. So no more going around, no more playing nice. You have�� I stare at the estimates and dismiss them. It�ll take too long for Ropo to fix his ship. I compose other orders to have him join another initiate. �An hour to get yourselves ready. Jump to the nearest Shop if you need it. But then, we�re going.�

All their faces go flat, game faces slipping on. Only Gheisnan has a slight smile on his face, as if he�s seen this all. As if this is the best option. I hope it is.

I draw a deep breath, closing all the windows, and pull out the Duke�s palace blueprints. A gesture brings over the rest of the team, and we pour over the details. Going over the plan one last time, making adjustments now that we�re certain we�ve only got five.

And I can�t help but wonder if I�m going to lose anyone else.

***

The center of Duke Ucald�s domain is the Infinite Keeps. Are?

There�s a different name for it in Erethran, one less flowery and more practical, but Ali translated it for me as Infinite Keeps. And I can see why.

It�s a weird, highly defensive structure. The external structure is reminiscent of a stumpy fortress, something built in the fifteenth century, when we were still transitioning between guns and bows. It has multiple towers, sprawling crenellated walls that reach up and up into the sky. The walls themselves aren�t just defensive structures, but residences too, apartment complexes for the unworthy.

There�s technically a central keep, a location for defenders to fall back to. The obsidian walls shroud the inner courtyard in perpetual twilight, no matter how many lights they install. The Infinite Keeps were built for three reasons, and they do them well.

Firstly, the Infinite Keeps are where the Duke and his extended family reside. Because of the folded space design of the keeps, each location is embedded within the next, growing larger as one passes through the layers. Those individuals who are most in disfavor at the present moment are left on the outer rings, with the larger, more expansive grounds inside reserved for those in favor or within the direct line of descent.

The punishment of being forced to live in noble squalor, having only a few thousand square feet of space to oneself, was enough to drive the various branches of his family to compete.

Secondly, the smaller and more portable nature of the outer keep meant that the Duke could use it as his mobile fortress. Using its defenses, the Duke and his retainers could unleash their strength upon problematical locations throughout the solar systems. Whether it was a monster population that needed culling or an invading fleet, the keep could deploy forces directly.

It helped as well that as a mobile residence, the Duke could enjoy the various festivals and entertainment opportunities his planets offered.

Thirdly, and the reason why we�re launching our attack, is the System Settlement Sphere. The Erethran noble Title system is a strange little thing. Not to say that other Galactics haven�t taken it up, but it isn�t extremely common. To reduce the burden on the System and to allow their nobles to anchor their Skills over a wide plane, the Erethrans created these Settlements Spheres.

Each sphere is like a pin in a staked-out handkerchief, warping the local area around it. By tying the noble Title to it, the Empire could rule over large swaths of space with lower System requirements and populations. In that way, pound for pound, a designated noble from Erethra had more powerful Skills than another of the same Level. On the other hand, it also left them more vulnerable.

A vulnerability we intend to exploit.

I take a deep breath, staring again at blueprints. Like an inverse Russian matryoshka doll, each keep we defeat will lead to another of greater size. Inversely, that also means that the concentration of fire and personnel will grow smaller. That doesn�t mean less danger though. After all, Classes and Levels as much as politics dictate who stays within. The deeper we delve, the more dangerous it will get. For that reason, I sent the initiates in first.

�In three,� Dornalor calls.

I give my head a quick shake and focus on what�s happening. Exactly on time, the ships with the initiates drop out of hyperspace. All five of them deploy drones and fire missiles at specified locations. These are custom-designed missiles meant to punch holes in settlement shields rather than destroy them. They work, however briefly, before the shields regenerate.

It took a little bit of wrangling to get those missles from Brerdain. He hadn�t wanted to let them go, especially because of how expensive they are to make. Each of them had components from Master Class Artisans, but they were the only way I could see to punch through in short order.

Ahead of me, leaning forward over his console and guiding the ship using his fingers, Dornalor controls the Nothing�s Heartbreak as we fly along behind Gheisnan�s craft. We drop down toward the keep as well, but so much more quietly. Whereas the initiates are here to make noise and deal with the main defenses in the front lines, we�re supposed to cut through and take out the main target.

I eye the surroundings, taking in where we are as Dornalor flies us in. Beside me, Ali is focused turning aside lasers and electric beams with equal prejudice.

When we dropped out of hyperspace, we were just outside the shields. With the settlement shield down, the apartment walls have opened up almost immediately with attacks, firing upon us as we swoop in. Dornalor weaves us between fire, letting the lead ships soak up the attacks as we pass through where the shields should be.

The moment we cross the threshold, artificial gravity takes hold, enforcing its arbitrary concept of down. The hunk of land that makes the keep look like a floating castle in space is what we target, the open ground unrestricted�unlike the already cluttered space above the keep. Cluttered with lasers, missiles, drones, and rail-gun-driven masses of metal and enchanted rock. We get in low while the rest of the ships land, disgorging their occupants around the keep.

The initiates throw themselves out, rushing the wall-cum-towering-apartment-buildings, using tactical movement and cover fire to get close. They combine force shields, distracting robots and drones and moveable defenses to keep themselves moving. All the while, they return fire, using the ship�s on-board weaponry and their own Skills to tear at the walls and defensive weaponry.

I can�t help but wonder who else we�re killing, who else might be injured by their indiscriminate attacks.

�Watch out, drones incoming,� Harry barks. The War Reporter is in the copilot seat, doing his best to help without participating directly.

Luckily, passing information only mildly affects his status of non-combatant. It only really restricts his use of Skills, but in this case, his main Skill, Just a Bystander, is actually useful. It makes those targeting us, technologically or mentally, ignore him�and thus the ship itself. It doesn�t stop stray shots from striking us, but by hovering off the ground and not firing anything, we�re avoiding drawing attention for now.

�I see them. Now, stop bothering me,� Dornalor snaps at Harry. He is focused, staring at the monitors, eyes flicking sideways at times to take in other images that only he can see.

The Hearbreak is jerking and weaving between drones, laser fire, and the occasional impelled mass as it attempts to keep us in the air, avoid the welcome party, and wait for our turn. Dornalor uses both fingers and mental commands, weaving the entire thing into a ballet of metal and gravitic impellers.

Bolo, seated in the gunner�s seat, sniffs audibly. He has nothing to do right now, because any attack he could launch would break Harry�s Skill. If Harry�s Skill breaks, if we break it, the War Reporter would face a tremendous backlash. And while Harry�s mostly not a huge factor in our fights, Dornalor can always use a second pair of eyes.

�Your initiates are breaching the main walls. Entrance in� two minutes for the earliest group,� Bolo reports, having judged their progress. �The Pooskeen�s at seven.�

I grunt in acknowledgement. Gheisnan is running behind compared to the other initiates. His people are hunkered behind multiple layers of shield walls and projections, shifting forward in a turtle formation. They pop up to attack once in a while, taking out artillery weapons or concentrated groups of attackers. It�s smart and safe, but slow.

Everyone else will breach in, at most, four minutes, but the Pooskeen is holding back. I�m not sure if it�s because he has less firepower�his lack of personal offensive Skills is clear�or if he�s doing this on purpose. Those lagging behind are more likely to survive, after all.

�Get us to Freif. I want us behind the sniper�s team.�

Dornalor acknowledges my order and hits the burners, risking revealing the ship to make it across the compound in time.

In the meantime, I sweep my gaze over the landed shuttles and their disgorged passengers.

Magine, the Duelist, is far ahead of everyone else. He�s the first to breach, and even as I watch, he�s leading his team into the gaping hole of a second-story apartment building. Soul Shield on, he jumps in, his tiny swords flashing as he cuts apart the gathered men. Seconds later, an explosion rips out from the wall as they detonate mines.

I watch Magine�s health drop like a rock and stops about a quarter up. Briefly. Then it rises as Health potions, regeneration, and a Soul Shield trigger. Luckily, the explosion was sufficient to keep his attackers off for the precious few seconds his team needs to catch up. Shield walls slam down around his body while healing spells are cast, fast raising his health.

Unlike the vast majority of his team, Magine hasn�t changed his style much. If anything, they�ve just doubled down on his Skill and preference. The team uses him as the spear-point, focusing on support, providing health to the damage dealer and keeping him alive while the rest of the team brace and hold the ground taken.

In contrast, Ropo�s and Anayton�s teams are more balanced. They move fast, using chained Thousand Steps to give the entire team the equivalent of a Haste Skill�without the need to cast the spell individually on the group. Chained Two are One�s keep their tanks alive when damage exceeds the Soul Shields layered on those drawing fire. Ropo�s focus on the defensive side shines through here, unlike Anayton, who has a noticeable dent in her Mana. At the same time, they use concentrated fire from soulbound gun-wielding members to either take out troublesome attackers or provide covering fire.

Still, the two initiates have their own individual style in this fight. Ropo uses his new stealth Skills, leaving his team to take the brunt of the damage. They�re geared up to do so, while the little Grimsar is making his way to the base of the walls. Occasionally, he reveals himself to launch a series of poison gas cannisters at the wall, cloaking the attackers before he fades away again.

Once Ropo makes his way to the wall, he stops and switches out for his axe, charging up his new Skill. Combined with Army of One, he waits for a full two minutes, until his team is nearly with him, before he launches the attack. The energy from the attack is sufficient to tear a hole directly through the base of the wall and create a scar a third of the way up.

Unlike the upper portions, the base of the wall is thickened and reinforced to provide the foundational supports for the towering skyscrapers within. Even so, the sickly green light from Ropo�s attack spreads, reaching outward and infecting the building material. Which makes no sense, but that�s the System for you.

Anayton, on the other hand, is working with her team, commanding them and their actions. It�s a surprising turn of events from her earlier solo work. Here, she leads, but not with her face like Magine or Kino.

In fact, she�s switched out her soulbound chain and sword for an assault rifle. Unlike the others, she actually has two soulbound weapons�a gift from her Title of the Everlasting Light. That both weapons are as powerful as one another can be attributed to Mana Fount. The viewing of the particular boondoggle that got her both Titles and forced her to purchase the Skills to balance her new weapons was rather entertaining.

Let�s just say that you should never let yourself get dropped into the middle of a combat zone without checking your comms. The fact that she managed to drag half her team across a hostile planet was the main reason she�s on the roll for Paladin.

It probably also explains why she�s babying her people, even against her personal inclinations.

�Get moving to the exits, John. I�m not hanging around,� Dornalor calls, snapping me out of my review of the battlefield.

I stand and follow Bolo, hurrying down to the emergency exit chutes, where we strap in. They�re the same exit chutes we�ve used before, geared to shoot us right out from the bottom. I�m wondering how Dornalor intends to get us in, because from what I�ve seen, Freif is already inside.

Information keeps feeding to me from the gaping hole in the fourth floor. I see glimpses of light, flashes of beam weaponry as they open up. The constant sizzling crack of lasers and driven masses, with Freif�s figure shrouded in smoke and the glint off his Soul Shield. His team is right next to the man, small dots on my minimap as they bulldoze through the opposition.

Ever since we gave the man his mass combat Skills, Freif�s taken to the calling of upfront damage dealer with a vengeance. Combined with his team, who have a preponderance of damage-dealing Skills, he�s taken to heart the idea that victory can be achieved by having the biggest DPS.

My stomach lurches suddenly as the Heartbreak twists, angling itself in midair. Beneath my feet, the end of the escape chute opens, offering a brief view of the breach.

Brief, because the escape chute triggers, sending me shooting toward the opening. I accelerate at hundreds of kilometers per second, the G forces enough to slam my mouth shut, catching the tip of my tongue and filling it with the copper and salt taste of blood. Just as quickly, the damage is gone as the System heals me.

I careen past the startled members of Freif�s team, clipping one of Freif�s hovering guns before my feet impact undamaged internal walls. They tear asunder as I bleed velocity and Soul Shield defenses. It takes multiple walls before I finally come to a stop. My Soul Shield flickers, detailing damage taken, even as the crash harness detaches and ignominiously drops me to the floor.

�What happened to subtle?� I shout over the party chat.

Mikito drops down next to me, scanning the empty storage room, bits and pieces of reinforced metal cladding still raining down around us. Seeing no threats, the samurai strolls over and taps her arm. �Tick-tock.�

I start, wondering where that polite samurai has gone. Once, a long time ago, she�d done the entire strong silent type very well. Of course, part of that had been her lack of English language skills. But now, now she�s gotten used to me. And is giving me shit, just like the rest of them.

Bolo interrupts my musings by jumping through and widening the hole we made. When I raise an eyebrow at his image in the party chat, the Dragon Lord grumbles. �Smashed into a supporting strut.�

My grin widens as Ali catches up, floating through the walls, cackling all the while.

�So glad I recorded that. Now get moving, boy-o, before the guards arrive. Donalor got you into the third ring, but we�re going to have to get moving to the keep itself.�

Mikito�s already moving, running as fast as she can toward the nearest exit. The insides of the wall are utilitarian, burnished steel-gray metal, littered by pale yellow light every twenty feet. Occasionally, graffiti can be seen, gang signs and the occasional drawing of local entertainment shows. Some of the art is startling, graphic in its violence, 3D paint giving it all-too-realistic lifelike properties if glimpsed out of the corner of your eye. Others are risqu�, showing anatomically impossible scenes of athletic splendor with aliens of a wide variety.

Beneath our feet, the floors are worn, scuff marks showing in even System-regenerated pathways. It says something about the amount of wear when the System is unable to complete regeneration. It�s quite possible there are even worse areas, places that have broken down further.

We race down corridors, led by Ali and Mikito�s summoned horse. It�s not a real animal, the spirit horse. Recent Level-ups have allowed her greater control, and now the creature rushes ahead, playing both scout and tank. Not that we need one. Not just yet.

�No guards,� I say.

It�s not a call for them to appear, or a raised flag, just an indicator of my concern. There should be guards. Should be personnel blocking us. And even if my minimap glows with dots, most of them are pale gray. Marked by Ali as non-combatants, probably via a quick surface scan of their Statuses.

Mikito grunts, slowing her headlong rush. I note the sudden drop in her Mana at the same time. �Barrier.�

�How many?� Bolo asks as he moves up.

Rather than wait for Mikito to inform me, I borrow Ali�s sight. Arrayed just before the exit from the wall is a good score of the missing guards. Led by a pair of elite members�Erethran nobles with Advanced Classes. One�s a Trick Shooter, the other a Baronet. Beside them, the others of the group block the way, reinforcing the exit and creating a chokepoint. Almost as if a signal was given, additional dots appear, hemming us in.

Between the layers of force fields, the personnel, and the in place firepower, it�ll take us a few moments to break through. I frown, glance at the map again to ascertain that this is the fastest way in. We could go through the walls, but these are reinforced. Especially the exterior wall.

�Bolo, Mikito, punch us through,� I command them. �I�ll be right along.� Already, my hands are filling with toys to slow our pursuers.

My friends charge ahead, Mikito reconjuring her steed and jumping on it. She has to duck low so that she doesn�t knock her head, but that�s fine. She levels Hitoshi over the horse�s ears, ready to use. Bolo just starts running, conjuring his hammer.

I�m not worried that they�ll be stopped. I do, however, have concerns about the initiates. Even out here, drawing the majority of fire, they all have their own targets. Unfortunately, the moment we entered the wall, communication between us and them dropped. I can only pray they don�t die.

Traps in place, the sounds of Bolo and Mikito meeting our enemies resounding through the corridors, I hurry after them. Not a moment too soon, for a cluster of dots cross the line of installed traps.

The Galactic equivalent of a bouncing betty goes off, releasing enchanted shrapnel into the air. To my surprise, I get experience notifications almost immediately. And while I�ve filled the corridors behind us with equipment, drones, mines, and automated machine guns, I�m still surprised.

Are these guys that weak?

My answer appears as I reach the exit, stepping over broken bodies and shattered pieces of equipment. Yes, they are. I�m once again grateful that my helmet filters out the smells of battle. I�ve fought without it before, or when it�s been damaged, and the smell of cooked flesh and viscera from torn-apart bodies is haunting. It leaches into everything, coats your mouth and stains the food you eat for days on end.

Once out of the internal wall corridors, the grounds open before us. A vista of pale green and purple grass and shrubbery. Even as we run, Mikito and Bolo are swinging their weapons, projecting energy at the emplaced artillery and defensive grid that breaks up the peaceful view. Temporal enchantments in the ground slow us down. Increased gravity weighs every action, draining Stamina. None of the defenses or artillery last longer than a single swing, but they keep popping up. Even the weapons on the walls have swung around, aiming at us with the ships grounded.

Even through our defenses, our health continues to drop as we enter the kill zone.

My Soul Shield shatters, metal around Hod�s outer layers boiling away. Rather than let it continue, I trigger the next skill in the armor. Mirror Shade lets me hide among my doppelgangers as we split off and run in different directions.

Bolo and Mikito use their own Skills and equipment to lighten the load, adding purchased automatic weaponry, a conjured summons, and moveable shielding to the mix. Ali floats above, hands held apart. A semi-transparent dome forms around our small team, curving beam attacks, breaking apart mass projectiles, and weakening the bonds between them.

And all the while, we run.

A rumble starts without warning, and the ground beneath Mikito�s horse gives way. A trench nearly six feet wide and twenty feet deep appears, dropping her into its depths. Bolo falls in a few inches before he kicks off against the crumbling ground, driving himself forward with a flip to land on stable dirt on the other side. I just keep running, triggering the hover options built into Hod.

From within the depths, Mikito rides up the steep wall of the trench, flames chasing her, catching me as I run. Massive shields spring into existence, pushing Bolo back before he smashes them apart. And we keep running.

Only our Health is down to half and our Mana is still dropping. Previously destroyed defenses pop back into existence as the defenders spend Credits like water.

�Where are they?� I snarl, spinning around and tossing my knives at an emplacement. I slip Blade Strike into the daggers. Otherwise, the tiny weapons would do nothing to the emplaced weaponry. But their ability to penetrate shields, added to my own Penetration Skill, gives me the oomph needed.

There�s no answer to my question. I growl again and eye our health. In the end, I give in and trigger the Evolved portion of my Penetration Skill. Penetration�s Evolved ability flicks on, and I throw Blade Strikes with abandon, sliding more of them into my daggers as I cast them at oncoming shields without regard to effectiveness. It all piles on, making the Evolved Skill Shield form around me, bolstering its hit points.

�Let me be the vanguard!� I call to Bolo. At the same time, Vanguard of the Apocalypse and Eye of the Storm are used.

Bolo glances back, only for his eyes to widen as the majority of the attacks switch to target me. The storm of fire lights me up, such that it�s impossible to see my form within. But the Penetration Shield holds. In the meantime, with Bolo stopping his attacks on the defenses, I get a chance to replenish as I rush ahead and start cutting.

�I need an Evolved Skill,� Bolo mutters.

I don�t have time to listen to him, knowing I can�t keep all these Skills running forever.

A few last automated emplacements�too dumb to be affected by my Skill�target my friends, but for the most part, I am in the Eye of the Storm.

�What took you so long?� Bolo grumbles as his health slowly creeps up.

�Uhh� I don�t like using things when we don�t need to.� And truth be told, I�d never really wanted to use it so soon. Or have a reason to remember to use it. It�s not as if I�ve often needed this Skill.

The secondary effect of my Penetration Skill has a duration of eighty-five minutes, and the cooldown on it is variable. Unfortunately, it seems cooldown for the Skill is affected by several factors outside of my control, including System resources, ambient Mana levels, and�I think�my own Intelligence and Willpower. What that really means is that once used, I often can�t reuse the Skill for at least a day or two. Which is why I don�t use it very often.

And that means I forgot.

Thankfully, there�s no way for Bolo to know any of that, or my forgetfulness. Instead, the Dragon Lord stays a step behind, focusing his attention on emplacements while I forge ahead, tossing my knives out whenever they return and taking down shields. Even so, three quarters of the way in, we slow to a crawl as the sheer number of automated defenses and shielding systems block our way.

When I hesitate, Bolo snaps, �You want me to take it down?�

�No.� I shake my head, glancing at the plethora of hostiles showing on my map.

Ali�s shrunk down the size of his shield, the strain taking its toll on the Spirit. Mikito�s dismounted, using her steed and her weapon to play rearguard. Even as we gather, our enemies are tightening their encirclement.

If things don�t change soon, we�re going to end up as just so much carrion. Bolo knows this, so my refusal makes his hands tighten on his hammer. But�

It�s time for the kids to show us they have what it takes.

�Now or never, children,� I mutter into the open comms, hoping they can hear me.

Silence greets my words as the air sizzles, the ground melts, and the acrid tang of ozone filters into my breathing.

Silence.

Chapter 18

�Redeemer!� Bolo�s voice is growing frantic.

As more time passes, the greater the resistance grows against my taunt Skill, allowing more and more targets to switch over to my friends. Add the fact that a good portion of the defenses are automated and Bolo�s health is dropping again. Mikito�s not doing much better�in fact, her health is even worse.

�All right, on my mark,� I snarl. Can�t wait any longer then. I throw a returned dagger straight ahead, watch it plunge into the shield and pop it, only for another to spring into place. That�s the problem with cutting our way through right now. Each time we take down a shield, another one forms in its place. Yet not all of them are active, so we can�t destroy them all at once. �I�ll strike after you.�

�On three,� Bolo snaps. �One. Two. Thr��

Rather than move, the Dragon Lord freezes, because the shields we were staring at have disappeared. We look around quickly, trying to spot additional trouble, but in short order a quarter, then half of the emplaced weaponry stops firing. As we run again, the automatic fire grows even more sporadic while the few living guards look confused.

�About time,� Bolo snaps in exasperation.

Hefting his hammer, he rushes forward, smashing aside the remaining guards. Without the majority of their defenses and artillery, the guards aren�t as eager to do battle with us. They pull back, leaving us an open route to the keep�s gates. Some of them aren�t even bothering to fire their weapons, instead conserving Mana and health.

�Slow,� Mikito complains as she rides past me, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me along.

�Well, they�re still learning,� I say.

I can�t help but agree though. The initiates took way longer than I thought they should have to complete their objectives. And, eyeing the shutdown weaponry, it looks as though they went for the smash-and-bash approach rather than taking them over. It�d make our lives easier, but I can settle for good enough.

Pushing aside the thought, I return my attention to our headlong charge. Through the main gates, into the main keep itself. The keep itself is a trick, in a way. The Portal to the next level stands within the main hall, right after we enter, rather than deep within. So all we have to do is run in, trigger the Portal with the password we bought, and fight our way through another two dozen levels.

The good news is that so long as we control the external keep, the keep isn�t going anywhere. Not easily. Not without sacrificing decades of work. And I�m betting they aren�t willing to do that.

Not yet at least.

***

A forest spreads out before us. We�re two levels in, the first being a miniaturized town of double-story buildings connected to one another by walkways and narrow streets. We tore through them by the simple expedient of destroying the walls between, unleashing one after another of our ultimate Skills. Then we�d stepped through the entrance to the next teleportation circle and slid into the next zone.

We run through the transplanted forest where kept monsters are reared for training, for sport. I grab the Earth Troll that forms out of the ground and rip its head off with a yank of enhanced muscles. The wet tearing sound fills the air, blood falling in a rain around me.

The head thrashes, trying to bite me, its body already attempting to repair the damage, to fill in the rest of its mass. Earth rolls toward it, and flesh forms around the ragged mess of its neck. I drop the head and a plasma grenade at the same time, riding the explosion as I run.

I�m the vanguard still, my Evolved Skill Shield taking damage from the persistent acid in the atmosphere and the monsters and vegetation that try to stop us. Again and again, I unleash Blade Strikes and toss my knives, rotating through my attacks with abandon. I target everything, from vegetation to monsters, just to add damage notations to the shield. The ground doesn�t count�much�since it�s the transfer of Mana that is the true reason for my Skill to activate. So tearing up the earth doesn�t do much, which is why Beacons of the Angels isn�t on rotation.

Unless, of course, there�s a clump of monsters.

I feel my Mana pulled from me, my Skill triggered, and watch as Ali holds up his hands, shrouded in a halo of slowly growing light, a runic circle right above his head. He�s cackling with glee as he calls down the equivalent of artillery fire on the monsters in our way. That he�s invisible to most eyes makes the entire act even more disturbing.

�How are they making even the jackalopes attack us?� Mikito mutters as she idly cuts one of the bouncing, horned rabbits apart.

�Forest Keeper, Druid, or maybe a Game Master?� Bolo says. �This isn�t a true forest, so it might even be a Park Ranger. If they extended their domain over this entire area��

�Stupid Skills,� I grumble.

But we keep running, because we�re on a timer. Not just for how long the initiates can stay alive, but for how long my Penetration Skill can last. Because once it�s down, one of our major advantages disappears.

We run. And hope we can make it in time.

***

�Who lives in a damn maze?� I snarl, punching the wall. It cracks but doesn�t give way, which is saying something when you consider my Penetration power is in play.

I shake my head, letting my anger bleed out while waiting for Ali to report back. Between him and Mikito�s conjured horse and the half dozen drones we�ve deployed, we�re mapping out the maze as fast as we can. Problem is, the walls keeps moving and the drones keep getting shot down. The walls are breakable, but every time we do that, the maze goes into overdrive. Considering they could be changing where the damn teleport pad is located with each second, each creak and twist as the floor rotates, as walls disappear or rise, we�re taking a more subtle approach.

�They�re running out the clock,� Bolo states, eyeing the wall ahead of us again. I glare at him and the Dragon Lord shrugs.

�Ali will get us through,� I say. But, truth be told, we�re waiting on someone else. Someone a little more reliable.

�Head left, straight through two crossroads. Take the crossing at two o�clock, then go up three levels,� Harry mutters, his voice appearing on our party chat.

A moment later, we�re moving, following his orders. Even if they change the maze, Harry has learnt they can only alter it so often. The cost of shifting the walls and the center is quite high, and�luckily�they�ll eventually have to decide between draining the main Mana batteries for the keep or letting us through. Already, their attempt at keeping us out of the first Level has cost them.

I�m hoping they make the mistake and drain the main batteries. It�ll mean access afterward will be easier. I�ll take annoyance now to unknown traps later. But in either case, they�ll run out of tricks on this Level soon enough.

It doesn�t help that every time we find a Mana gathering point, I drop one of my Mana Dispersal grenades, letting it destroy the effectiveness of the environmental recharge levels. It�ll speed up the rate that we get through the maze. It�s a little wasteful, but between my Altered Storage space and a near unlimited budget, I can afford to be.

In the meantime, as beam fire and smoke wafts in from the corridor we approach, we�ll continue to cut down their men. At the very least, it�s experience.

�Thanks,� I send as I catch a chain on my arm, let it wrap around my shield, then yank, pulling the surprised Erethran into my fist.

It�s always good to have a ringer on the outside.

***

Idyllic clouds floating through an artificial sky, blocking out the trio of captured, shrunken suns, while forest-covered mountains in the distance are blanketed with white, powdery goodness. I almost wish for a set of skis and a few hours alone to carve some trails. It reminds me of another mountain range, one where a dragon whose child might have been born lives. I certainly feel a flash of homesickness pulling at me. A reminder of what I left behind, the people I cared for. It clenches my stomach, tightens my throat before I push it all aside.

Damn library. Dragging my thoughts here and there.

There�s one additional feature here that isn�t part of the Yukon, or at least hadn�t been when I left. The giant floating platforms, like the ones under our feet as we hover in space. Wide, expansive gaps between them all. And no ways across, beyond jumping.

�What exactly is the point of this?� I don�t feel the cold, though a small reading in the corner of my eyes tells me that it�s -63.3 C. Frost rims our armor, coating Bolo�s horns and the head of his hammer. Not that it seems to bother the Dragon Lord.

�Point?� There�s a big grin on Bolo�s face as he regards the platforms, the gaps, and the numerous guns and other defensive emplacements that make it all the more challenging. �Fun, of course. Don�t you have obstacle courses in your world?�

�Ours don�t include lethal weaponry.�

�Actually�� Ali begins.

�Japanese game shows don�t count,� I snap.

With her free hand, Mikito smacks me over the back of my head. �Are we doing this?�

�Do we have a choice?� I shake my head, amused that the defensive emplacements haven�t shot at us yet. I guess, being a sport, firing upon nonparticipants is a foul. I figure a man who actually knows what the hell is going on should be ahead in this case, so I say to Bolo, �Do you want to lead?�

�I haven�t done this in four decades.� Bolo�s grin widens. �Don�t break the rules.�

He crouches then launches himself at the nearest platform. He lands with a thump, shaking off gathered snow before he continues sprinting, jumping over laser barriers, pivoting around a cannonball the size of a Mini before jumping for the next platform. The moment he leaves the original platform, it shifts, changing configurations.

�What rules?� I shout after the Dragon Lord in exasperation.

Mikito shrugs. Then she�s off, chasing the Dragon Lord. For a moment, I have a flash of d�j� vu. Is this what it�s like to be chasing after me all the time? When I don�t tell people what the hell I�m doing, keeping all my plans to myself?

If it is, I don�t like it.

�We going, boy-o?� Ali taunts. �Tick-tock, you know.�

I exhale a tired breath and run. Hopefully we don�t break any rules. Whatever they may be.

***

Fire burns above us, magma flows beneath our feet. Obsidian rock juts out from the hellish landscape where little black-winged imps, their skin highlighted with red, sit in glowing cracks. They form balls of plasma between their legs and thrust them at us. Each attack makes the temperature around us spike, and we�re already taking environmental damage from the heat.

The Hod is whining, its Mana levels and durability dropping as it struggles to cleanse the air, feed cool liquid to my body, and repair surface damage. My Penetration Shield ticks down constantly, even as heat bleeds through to the armor beneath and is trapped. It�s an interesting failure point, if it wasn�t potentially going to kill me.

I�m grateful that the armor continues to provide clean, fresh air at least. Even if it is drawing from reserve tanks. I get the feeling that the outside air is less than savory. Idly, I conjure my sword and bat aside an incoming fireball before tossing my blade at the imp. The attack causes the imp to explode, taking out another two of its brethren. Heat rolls out from the exploded imp, making the temperature rise again.

�Stop doing that!� Bolo snaps. �Some of us aren�t in expensive, heat-resistant armor.�

I eye the Dragon Lord, noting how his health fluctuates as his regeneration fights against the heat. Unlike myself, he�s taking damage at a significant rate. Only he�s healing it backend. That is, it�ll continue working to a certain point until the System will stop regenerating him, considering the constant yo-yo a matter of torture.

***

�This new provision by your Galactic Council will impact our information-gathering abilities. You have to vote against it.� The speaker is a tentacled, squid-like being with an aborted body that just kind of stops. All mouth and tentacles, without many other parts. I know, from the library, that the remainder of its body is semi-displaced, in another portion of the universe.

�You will have to learn to live without it. The Council has learned of your tests. Some of the members strongly disapprove. You know they don�t want you to do this. And then you had to take the boy�s nephew.� The speaker glares at Tentacles.

Information flows, reminding me who they are. A Questor, an old Corrupt Questor, now dead at the hands of an incensed Heroic.

And a Legendary. A member of the Council. One who still lives. He has a lot of names, a lot of Titles. But is best known as the Weaver. Short, thin, all angular bodies once upon a time. Now, his bloated body is pushing the edges of his robes. Seven eyes spin constantly, watching the world from the corners of his face, while a pair of eyes on individual tentacles rise from his forehead, fixing on the Questor.

�I didn�t know.�

�That�s not good enough,� The Weaver stares at the trembling creature before he flicks his hand sideways. Tentacles flinches, but nothing happens, and it relaxes. Only to tense again when the Weaver speaks. �Do not fail me again. This lesson should be sufficient.�

The memory ends, but further information streams in. Details about the Weaver, his abilities, his Skills. And what happened to the Corrupt Questor. It wasn�t him that the Weaver killed, but his family. All of them. Two hundred thirty-eight members. With the barest twitch of his hand and a single Skill.

The action was actually counterproductive, driving Tentacles mad. He�d stopped researching, trying to Level, trying to find a way to beat the Weaver. He failed when a vengeful Heroic found him. And along with his death, new data, new information had flowed into the Questor�s library.

Scarily enough, I get the feeling that the Weaver is actually on my side. He wants to know what the System is about. Wants it so badly, he�ll do anything, kill anyone, destroy anything to find out.

I shudder, coming back to find myself still floating down the lava river. I don�t even understand the point of this particular keep, the creation of a hellscape like this. It�s not even for fun. It�s just pain and annoyances.

�Can you ride the Dragon, Redeemer?�

�I�m fine.� I reply to Bolo, pushing aside the problem of the quest for now. Instead, I return to an earlier issue. �Maybe if we were all on board about what the rules are, we�d all know what not to do.�

�Are you still upset about that?� Bolo says. �Everyone knows not to have two contenders on the same platform.�

�Obviously not everyone,� I snap.

Mikito, at the back of the raft, guiding the cobbled-together vessel with her polearm, lets out an audible snort. �Enough. You two can bicker later. Let�s get out of here fast.�

The river of lava might be flowing at a decent rate, but at this speed, I�ll be well out of my Skill use by the time we�re done with all these keeps.

�Fine.� I flip over backward, landing in the lava. A few short kicks gets me to the back edge of the raft, then I push. Flutter kicks, added with the Hod�s own internal thrusters, move us at speed. My Shield starts dropping, but I don�t need to regenerate it anymore. It�s going to die off soon anyway. Might as well make full use of it.

As if our new emphasis on speed has pissed off the imps, they act out, throwing more fireballs. With Ali playing lookout and guide, Bolo and Mikito take over defense.

And me? I play human motor in a river of lava.

***

Infinite Keeps is a bit of a misnomer. There aren�t an infinite number of levels or infinite number of structures we have to break through. But they do fold their defenses within one another, again and again. Each level, each keep, is larger than the other. Surprisingly, after a certain point, the resistances taper off. Automated defenses keep at it, but we stop seeing Erethran guards.

Doesn�t mean that the fight on top is getting any less intense. In fact, a glance at the notes Ali has sent has filled me with grief. We�d lost, more than I care for. More than I wanted, more than I estimated. But, loss or not, we can only keep going.

It�s only when we emerge into the very last keep, an idyllic city in the distance, that we discover why.

We appear on the outskirts of the city, towering skyscrapers before us, floating cars and wind turbines surrounding us. After everything we�ve gone through, I�d expected a castle with a forlorn princess within rather than a city. Small, as these things go, by Galactic standards. But a city nonetheless.

And right before us are the combined guards and defenses of the last few keeps. I�m a little intimidated, looking at the sheer number. Ali helpfully provides Status data, showing that the vast majority of those facing us, all one hundred forty-three, are Advanced Classers. There are another fourteen Master Classers in the group, but only two are Combat Classers. The others are there to provide buffs and deploy their manufactured equipment.

There�s a momentary pause when we appear. A brief second when everyone takes in their surroundings, the environment, and the situation. When their brains ask �Are we really going to do this?� They answer, dumbly, yes.

And chaos and carnage begins.

Mines go off, a rainbow assemblage of beam weapons and lasers target us while sonic and mass disruptors thrum. Even mental and magical weapons are used, all to end our progress. The bubble and hiss, the sharp cough of weaponry is only dampened a little by my helmet. Gases, toxic and distorted, boil up from the ground even as it softens.

Bolo steps forward, twisting his hand sideways. A shape forms around him, a watercolor sketch of a dragon. Legs explode from the crouch, hammer in hand as the dragon roars, screaming its defiance. We charge behind, Mikito on her ghostly companion equine, myself skimming across the soupy ground in my personal armor.

We have just a few minutes before the dragon conjuration Bolo is using runs out of energy. Without a linked dragon of his own, the Skill is much less powerful than it could be. On the other hand, when it does end, it�ll explode. That�ll save us time, but we still need to get to the settlement room.

�Ali? Are we ready yet?�

�Nearly there,� the Spirit says. His face is scrunched up, his body invisible to most. He�s flying beside me, staying out of sight because most is not all. And he�s got more important things to do than dodge Mana missiles.

I watch, in the lee of the roaring, ripping energy dragon, as the guards are thrown aside, their wall torn apart. The two Master Classers are attempting to stop Bolo, but the dragon fights alongside him, stymying their efforts.

It�s only when the dragon turns a deep, dark purple, that Ali shouts, �Go.�

So I go. Blink Stepping, leapfrogging, my way out of the encirclement. Into the city itself.

Behind me, Mikito triggers a last-minute Skill, covering herself and Bolo in a protective bubble as the dragon explodes. The energy contained within Bolo�s Skill, absorbed from attacks, tosses apart earth and bodies, shattering equipment and force shields. I just hope they can hold out long enough for me to do what I need to do.

I keep Blink Stepping, heading deep within, dodging any attacks that chase me, thankful that Ali managed to figure out a workaround the Spatial Locks. Given enough time and effort, any lock can be broken. If you�re willing to take the pain, pay the cost.

***

I expected Master Class defenders in mass numbers. Maybe even a couple of golems or a mecha ready to stop me as I Blink Stepped past the outer walls of the final settlement structure onto its main grounds. Located in a tetrahedron of a building, I Blink toward the front door, past open ground, ready to punch my way in. I expected resistance.

Instead, there�s Bob.

�This way, sir.� The protocol droid bows, its rotund black-and-white body guiding me through the front doors and down the corridor to the settlement sphere.

I look around warily, concerned that this is a trap. But nothing in my map�and nothing that Ali can find, even darting through walls and ceilings�shows that there is anything else. �Where is everyone?�

�Greeting the other guests, sir,� the protocol droid chirps happily.

We come to the main doors and they slide open without a problem. I glance at them, eyeing their thickness, their density, their enchantments. And mentally wince. Would�ve taken me at least a couple of minutes to break through. Unless I trigger something like Army of One.

�And Lord Ucald?�

�The Lord has left. A rather hasty departure,� Bob informs me, spinning its head all the way around.

Seeing no danger, I walk into the room, still expecting to be assaulted. Nothing. Carefully, I place my hand on the settlement sphere, beginning the countdown for takeover. I eye the entrance, wondering if they�ll appear now.

Instead, I get a call.

�Baka. They stopped,� Mikito�s voice is a little incredulous.

�Who stopped? Stopped what?� I reply.

�Attacking us. They are pulling back. All of them.�

I blink, then call up their information. Linked to her own armor and Bolo�s, I can see the truth for myself. I also note that they�re both a little bruised and worn, their health and Mana only now recovering from the quarter level. �Why?�

�I don�t know, but I�ll take it,� Bolo says, breathing a little heavily. �This was more of a workout than I expected. Those Master Classers were pretty decent.�

I grunt, then turn my attention to the only thing that might have an answer.

�Lord Ucald left orders that if you were to reach the inner keep, to allow you to take the sphere. According to him, he did not want his city destroyed.� Bob pauses, flickers, then a recording appears, video and audio of Krenmock Ucald.

�So. You have made it. I hope you didn�t destroy too much of my keeps. If you did, I�ll have to take it off your head,� Krenmock says. I snort while the man glares at me. �Do not think this is over, Paladin. You and your worthless impostors are a thing of the past. A useless, defunct past that has no place in Erethra�s future. We will have your head. Yours and your initiates.�

�Blah, blah, blah,� Ali mutters, making himself fully visible. He waves at Bob, who shuts down the recording.

�Hey, I was listening to that!� I protest.

�Really?� Ali raises an eyebrow.

�There might have been something useful in there�� I say. After all, people who felt the need to monologue might give away something.

�Whatever. We can listen later. For now, maybe you should take the settlement?� Ali says, pointing out that I�ve got a waiting notification.

I sigh, then mentally acknowledge the prompt.

And just like that, I take away his seat of power.

And create a whole new set of problems.

Chapter 19

Once I got back, after dumping the Lordship onto poor Saimon to deal with, I�d been literally jumped by the young lady. We�d had quite a vigorous welcoming party, so common after death and lost.

Dark green hair leans against my chest, a fingernail tracing down my body. A glittering ring of dark gold with a small inset ruby gleams on it. I eye the ring and the individual the finger and hair belongs to. She�s shifting slightly to get the corals around her head to settle better.

We�re both naked, and I feel the pleasant warmth of her body pressed against me as we lie in post-coital happiness.

�And you never found him?� Catrin says sleepily.

Our conversation has been lazy, filled with small intimate details at first, before moving on to my recent foray into the universe.

�No. We tried to track him down, but he�d taken enough Portals and teleportation that locating him was too difficult. He�s got a Skill running so that even the Shop�s information dump shows him in one of three locations,� I say, shaking my head. It�s a pretty neat Skill, to be able to split information like that within the Shop.

Of course, we could still break it if we threw more money at it. But all three of those locations had significant political implications if we went in. So for now at least, we�re going to let him stay. I might not care that much about politics, but starting a new war or restarting two cold wars is a bit much. Even for me. Anyway, it�s better to let Lord Braxton and Saimon try the diplomatic option first.

And if that fails, when I do kick in the door and drag him out, it�ll cause a lot less problems.

�You sound disappointed,� Catrin says softly.

�I am.� I try to shrug, realize I have her on me, and just kiss the top of her head. �We killed a lot of people and still didn�t get the guy on the top.� I chuckle softly. �Was easier when we were just bounty hunters.�

Catrin shifts, sliding along my body to put her chin on my chest and look back up at me with those slitted cat-eyes. �You don�t like leaving things undone, do you?�

�No, I don�t.� I smile, meeting her gaze. �And you? What do you think of what I�ve done?�

Catrin laughs, hair spilling across her eyes as she shakes. �What does an Administrator know of these matters?�

�Mmmm� we used to call secretaries the gatekeepers to those in power, so I�d say� a lot,� I say, tapping her on the nose.

She opens her mouth to object, then, seeing how serious I am, rolls off me and sits up, pulling the blanket with her. �You�re a strange one. Asking the thoughts of one like me.� But when I wait, she brushes her hair out of her face. �I think what you did was right. The nobles have taken to running their fiefs like their personal empires. The Empress�May the System Guard Her�is too busy holding the borders to divert our legions to deal with them. If she could��

I raise an eyebrow, and she offers me a wry smile. �The nobles produce the weapons and the equipment our armies rely on. If a General was to act against a single noble, he�d find himself cut off.� She shrugs. �And even with the Shop and the System, the shipping delays, the additional cost, it would harm them. No General, not even Brerdain, would upset the nobles for such a minor matter.�

�Tens of thousands of immigrants, lives enslaved for decades� that�s a minor matter?� I say with some heat.

�To them who fight on the borders and lose as many soldiers in a year?� Catrin asks rhetorically.

I clamp my mouth shut, once again remembering how big the Empire really is. It�d be unwieldly without the System. Or maybe it is unwieldly even with the System.

�Not a fan of the wars?� I cock my head, having heard something in her voice.

She turns her head to the side, and I watch the lines of Society�s Web pulse and flash, watch as she considers what to say. How to say it. Picking at truth and lies, or truth and partial truths.

�I understand the need. I understand why we do it.� Catrin falls silent, then shakes her head. �But I grew up on the border. Near the Forbidden Zones. I knew we would one day be swallowed. We had monsters spawning all the time. And we could have used the armies there, fighting them. Instead, we had to rely on� on Adventurers.� The last word she says with some distaste. �The Guilds and the nobles who ran them, they were our best hopes. Because any guard, any individual who had any talent, was snatched up.�

�We?�

�My family.� When I make a noise, she shakes her head. �Nothing to worry about. I have no older brother looking to protect my chastity. No family left to worry about me.�

I frown, then sit up and wrap my arms around her. She might make it sound light, but I hear the pain in her voice. The loss. It�s an old loss, much like some of mine. But that kind of pain doesn�t really go away�it�s just forgotten. Until you remember it again, and it hits you like a truck.

I hold her in silence until she pushes away. �Are you going to continue then?�

�Continue?�

�Cleaning up the nobles, sorting out their� their mistakes.�

I pause, then shake my head. I catch the flash of disappointment in her eyes, the slight turning down of her lips. It�s gone in a blink, but still remembered. �Nah. I got to get the kids going onto the next stage. And sort out the funerals.�

She sucks in a slight breath as I remind her why I�d been so passionate only a short while ago. Death and loss is a good reminder that life is worth living.

A lesson the apocalypse taught me.

One of many.

***

The funeral is held in space. We stand in the docking bay of a space station not far from Pauhiri�s primary sun, staring at the baleful glare of the star and protected by the energy shields of the station. Solar collectors spread from the wings in a thin halo of monomolecular sails, absorbing energy to power the station, to be collected in batteries and beamed off to feed other stations.

Within the docking bay, we stand in lines, facing the pair of caskets. The remnants of the initiates I�d led to battle, or what we could find of them. On one side of the caskets, we stand, my team and me and the remaining initiates. On the other side, we have their families. I see tears, blood and hair torn asunder, the ravages of grief.

And my stomach clenches tightly. Bile rises in my mouth as I realize I have to say something, the Erethran equivalent of a chaplain slowly droning to an end. I have to say something, and I don�t know what. Because of all the funerals I�ve been to, all the loss I�ve faced� it�s rare that I had to speak. And even rarer have I been a direct cause of the loss.

They fought on my orders, for a cause I chose for them. Not like on Earth, where we fought for our lives, for our own planet. These people, these deaths� they might have walked away. Might have refused if they had a choice. But I never gave them one.

And now, they�ll never have a chance to choose again.

Maybe my understanding, my feelings on this isn�t exactly logical. Loss. Grief. Guilt never is.

If I�m also mourning the lives of the guards I killed, the people I murdered who were just doing their jobs, no one else needs to know.

�� and to the System and the flame, we consign the bodies.�

�To the System and flame,� echoes the voices of those in the building. Bolo and Harry do so without a problem, while Mikito and I are left stunned, catching up a second after everyone.

At the chaplain�s and everyone else�s regard, I smooth out my grimace and take the place the chaplain has vacated. I let my gaze travel along the initiates for a second, stopping on Kino. We found him locked away in a cell, unharmed if annoyed.

Then I turn to look at the families as I speak. �Ropo Dhagmath and Gheisnan of the Two Palms were� good soldiers. Brave Grimsar and Pooskeen. They fell finishing the tasks that I set out for them.�

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Bolo grimace, even as the Grimsar family of Ropo straighten. He�s got a big clan, multiple children and their grandkids. All of them paid to be Portaled over. There aren�t many tears there�maybe because Ropo was that old. Even so, some beards look a little more bare, their roots torn off.

On the Pooskeen side, there�s a lot more wailing and gnashing of teeth, fur torn out and long bloody scratches left on their skin. While I wanted his whole clan here, when I realized it literally numbered hundreds, I cut it down to immediate family only. Even then, they�re double the size of Ropo�s group. My gaze is drawn to the small clutch of grandchildren who stare around mutely, eyes full of unshed tears as they�re caught up in the emotions without truly understanding the cause.

�John��

I shake my head slightly, dismissing the message from Ali. �They were great soldiers and would have made great Paladins.� A lie. I was about to fail Gheisnan. He didn�t have what it took to survive, not with his Skills. Not really. I should have failed him before. That was my mistake. �I would have been proud to fight alongside them.� Truth. �I know that they fell doing what Paladins do. Fighting for the Empire.

�For everyone in the Empire.� My gaze falls on the families, shifting from adult to adult. �Not just those who have the luck, the fortune to be born in the right place, at the right time, to the right parents. But for those who are crushed under the wheel of progress, who just want a chance for something better.�

I draw a deep breath, seeing the echo of understanding in their eyes. Because, and I know it�s true, they understand. They�ve seen it. Experienced it.

�And they succeeded.�

I turn slightly and gesture to the ceiling. Notification windows appear, visible for all to see. Videos of Ropo and Gheisnan. Taken from news feeds, from their suit cameras, or from above, via the drones they used. So many videos, so many scenes. A prison cell thrown open, Ropo standing in the door as the individuals within shrink away in fear, then approach in wonder as he calls to them. Another of him standing on top of the smoking form of a mecha tank, enslaved miners staring at him with wide eyes, some falling to their knees. Grubby, emaciated, broken individuals seeing a glimmer of hope.

Gheisnan gets much the same reaction in the half dozen windows showcasing his own victories. Ushering the captured out of the �merchant� ship, receiving thanks from a transport vessel�s Captain. A more savage video as, fangs bared, he tears out the throat of the medical scientist while the research subjects cheered.

Freedom, hope, justice. Vengeance and punishment.

They deliver it, as Paladins were meant to do. And I let their families view their successes. What they managed to do. I let them stare, to remember, and if there are a few more tears, there are also straighter backs. Grim smiles.

�They died doing what a Paladin should do. And for that, they have my gratitude. And that of a thousand others.� I pause. �They have my gratitude and my promise�I will have Lord Ucald�s head.�

My last words bring forth a baying from the Pooskeen clan and a heavy thump of fist to chest from the Grimsar. I get approving nods. And then I�m done and I step back, letting others speak. Letting old friends, the other initiates, their old commanding officers talk.

I let them speak, and I try not to think about what I didn�t say. About my own failures. And my own regrets.

***

In the distance, the coffins float to the sun in a slow and stately progression. Not really that slow in actual velocity terms, but slow when viewed on the projection of the solar system that is being shown at the wake. Part of the ritual is the watch as friends and family mingle, waiting for the coffins to be drawn into the sun. Depending on how much time there is, the thrust set upon the coffins vary, making some wakes take days and others, mere minutes. Ours is a little more reasonable, a couple of hours long.

We�re hosting it in one of the viewing galleries at the top of the station, the stars displayed in clear glass windows. Of course, much of the sight is dominated by the sun taking up a large portion of the starscape, but there are sufficient windows to glimpse other, non-gaseous views.

Floating between the attendees are droids, plying both station personnel and funeral attendees with the Galactic equivalents of alcohol. There�s a wide variety of drugs and poisons on hand, all of which will bypass System regeneration. It helps that the entire viewing gallery is blanketed by a debuff, lowering poison and toxin resistances of those within by 50%.

From the second floor of the gallery, hiding in the shadows, I watch the group below as I nurse my drink. I did my duty, spoke with others for the first hour, shaking hands and offering words of consolation. But now, I glower at them all, wondering if I should have overruled Bolo�s recommendation of a few hours and gotten this over with.

�Not much for parties, are you?� Anayton asks as she walks over and leans against the railing beside me.

She�s got a glass in hand, the drink reminding me of a lava lamp more than something I�d consume. I could try to figure it out, but I�m not that curious. I do note though that rather than needing to drink it, the grip in the center allows the liquid to slowly absorb through her skin itself.

�This isn�t a party.� I say.

�True.� Anayton pauses. �Your speech wasn�t horrible.�

�Not good either.�

The initiate shrugs in reply.

�So are you here to tell me you�re out?�

That catches the woman by surprise, making her look at me head-on. �Why would you ask that?�

�I can�t think of another reason to speak to me. Debriefing is later, after all.�

Anayton lets out a huff, her nostrils expanding. I hear the exhalation, smell the hint of myrrh on her breath. �You really aren�t very good at this social thing, are you?�

I shrug.

�I came by to check on you.�

My eyes narrow, then I chuckle. �Drew the short straw?�

There�s a moment of puzzlement before she nods. �Yes, I got the lowest Mana clip. We all noticed your� distraction.�

�Smooth,� I say at her choice of words. �But I�m fine. I�ve lost others before.�

�To your orders?�

�Yes,� I say. And that too is true. Just not in the way she thinks.

�They chose, you know, just like we all did. Just like Smo�kana did. To try to be Paladins. And it�s not our first excursion. We�ve fought, we�ve killed for worse reasons,� Anayton says. �This. This opportunity you offer? It�s perhaps the first time we�ll have a chance to do what we think is right.�

I shake my head in negation of her words. Their choice, my orders.

�Our lives for our honor?� Anayton shakes her head, something dark passing through her eyes. �A victory at twice the price.�

I consider the young lady for a moment, then glance at the attendees below. I watch them walk around, cluster and break apart, chat and laugh, with that tinge of despair and grief that rises and fades around the edges. They�re a militaristic society. They�re used to loss, so there are no giant outbursts of anger or raging. But the grief is still there. Because loss is loss.

In the end, I pluck a memory of her from her reports and speak. �The Diyamant attack.�

Anayton flinches.

�That�s your reason, isn�t it? For becoming a Paladin.�

Anayton looks away, refusing to meet my eyes. But her hands clench and she shrinks a little into herself. I can be patient, so I stay silent. Waiting. Eventually, my patience is rewarded.

�We were seconded to the Lord Sockuya. It was supposed to be a regular assignment. Guard him, make sure he survived his trip, come back. We didn�t know where he was going. We didn�t know what he would do when he got there. And when they came for him, braying for his head�� Anayton shudders. She tries to say more, to explain. She tries and fails.

I put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. I know the rest of the story. The things she didn�t say. He massacred the town�not because of anything important, but because his ex-lover�s family had come from it. He couldn�t touch her, not anymore. Not since she got together with his sister, received her protection. But he could destroy his lover�s village. When the others came for him, he let the Honor Guard do their job, follow their orders. Made them choose between orders and what was right.

They chose their orders. Because that�s how they�re taught.

It�s what soldiers do.

�It�s not what Paladins do,� I say out loud. Finishing my own thoughts.

As if she managed to follow along, Anayton nods. And then she walks away as if she can�t stand to be near me anymore. Maybe it�s herself she can�t stand to be near. Self-loathing is a pernicious poison. Hard to get rid of, no matter how hard you scrub, no matter how much you drink.

In the silence of the second floor, as the hubbub of those below caresses my senses, as I sip on the drink in my hand and grip the lava lamp Anayton left behind, a figure emerges from the shadows. I don�t jump. I don�t even startle. Hard to miss someone when you�ve got a big glowing thread leading right to them.

�I didn�t want to bother you,� Catrin says as she sways over. She leans against the railing, brushing her shoulder against my chest as she does so, putting a little weight into my body and passing on the heat of her body. �It looked serious.�

�It� was,� I say, shaking my head. I breathe in, catching the hints of nutmeg and flowers that is all hers, and find myself taking a deeper breath. �Just a talk of loss. And pain.�

�Ah. That kind of talk.� Catrin lowers her gaze.

I reach out, pulling her closer. �You know it?�

�I�ve lost others. Friends. Family,� Catrin murmurs.

�Work?�

�Mmmm� and life. I grew up�well. You know. It wasn�t easy.�

�Yes.� I look down. �What do you think of them? The initiates?�

�They seem good. Strong. Dedicated.� She nods to the group below.

I absently note how they�ve gathered again, talking amongst themselves. Already, I see the way the lines are drawing between them and everyone else. Even if members of their teams are here, there�s a line. Between those who eventually have to make the calls and everyone else.

�They trust you. To lead them.�

�More fool them. And you?� I say. �Do you trust me?�

There�s a slight hesitation, one that makes me reluctantly turn to meet her waiting eyes. There�s a light smile on her lips, amusement at my question. She makes me wait, makes me regret asking such a stupid question.

�Yes.� When I open my mouth, she places a finger on it. �If you say I�m foolish, I�ll throw you off this balcony.� I clamp my mouth shut. �They�re no fools. Nor am I, Redeemer. They�re exactly what you wanted, aren�t they?�

I cock my head to the side but eventually nod. They very much are. I find myself drawing a deep breath and exhaling as I realize what it means.

�You�re leaving again, aren�t you?� Catrin says softly.

�Soon. Debriefing and then� well. The next step.�

Catrin makes a face.

I pull her close with one arm and give her a squeeze. �Make my excuses for me?�

When she wrinkles her nose at my request, I chuckle and plant a kiss on her lips. It�s time. For the quest. For setting up their next step.

***

We meet in the pale yellow room of the Shop. The meeting rooms are often rented out, the time dilation affect one of the few time-related effects that are viable. I�m not entirely sure if it�s an aspect of the teleportation to the location or if the entire Shop is affected by a time dilation bubble. In either case, time seems to move at a much slower rate within the Shop, compared to everywhere else.

I�ve done some research into Classes that mess with time, in the very limited ways that the System allowed, and with the library in my head, I�ve learnt the hell a lot about it. Time, movement within it, and all the resulting research takes up a large chunk of the information in my brain. Even now, there are research projects in play.

So far, time dilation is the extent of the System�s effects on the timeline. We can look into the future by guessing what will happen, but it�s all estimation. Sometimes eerily accurate guesses, but still guesses. You can look into the past by using various Skills to shift light, to draw on spiritual energies, to read the vibration of quantum entanglements. But you can�t go back in time or forward into the future.

That doesn�t stop us from trying.

Magic, unconstrained by the limitations of the System, is the go-to option. Numerous mages have attempted to manipulate Mana, trying to pierce the veil of time itself. The most successful of those spells rebounded, damaging their casters. The greatest failures had a tendency to create horrors.

Monsters that grew too fast, that aged and died in the blink of an eye. Sapient creatures whose very life force was sucked out to power the spell. Even the mass replication of the spell using an entire city�s lifeforce was insufficient to make a dent. The veil was more like a diamond wall than diaphanous cloth. You could slow time down, dilute it. But you couldn�t move through it.

�Cider?� the dark elf asks, holding out the clear glass of alcoholic apple juice.

When I take it, he shifts his hand slightly, making sure I touch his fingers. I have to admit, his touch still sends a thrill through me. Even when a portion of my mind records the ongoing Charm effects I resist. Roxley has a full suite of Skills and tech to make him alluring. I would almost accuse him of vanity, except I knew he�d just bask in the accusation.

It�s due to his past. Being a competitive dancer in Truinnar society meant he had to look good. No, better than good. While the winners were generally easy to pick out, the sponsorship of the contenders was another thing entirely. You couldn�t just win; you had to win with style.

And that meant looking good.

And smelling good.

And yes, feeling good.

�We could adjourn somewhere else,� Roxley drawls. His dark skin frames the now purple-and-yellow hair, highlighting those sharp ears and that wide smile. He leans against the table, pushing his hips out as he does so, and stretches.

The ass.

�No. Not getting distracted.� I step back and sip on the drink to buy time. Immediately, I get notifications that I�m resisting a variety of drugs, over and above the normal alcohol content. �What the hell?�

�Third Sol apple cider,� Roxley says. He makes the bottle appear, and I look at the very long list of warnings. �Quite in demand. The orchard is a dungeon, the loot drops the apples. Only way to make the drink is via, well, questing. It�s even more in demand than Apocalypse Ale.�

I can�t help but chuckle and take another sip of the drink. I should�ve guessed. Even in our world, apple trees have mutated. �Tastes pretty good. But this isn�t a social call.�

�I assumed so.� Roxley grows serious as he puts aside the flirting. It�s like flipping a switch, and I kind of envy him that ability. I�m still letting my gaze linger on his biceps. �I�ve heard about you and your latest� fling.�

�Jealous?�

Roxley doesn�t answer, instead wandering over to a seat. When he�s facing me again, he just cocks an eyebrow.

�Yeah, I figured.� I sit down across from him. One of the advantages of our relationship, if you could call it a relationship, is the lack of strings. Roxley understands, something Lana never could. �You still taking care of the Duchess�s place?�

�Of course.�

�Good. And you�ve got contacts with the rest of the council.� I say.

That�s a new thing, as they�ve formalized the power structure within the planet. The major players in each faction have divided the seats into a semi-permanent ruling Council. Rob�s still the World Leader, but the Council has chipped away at his strength, forcing him to play politics. Or lose his seat. It�s still shaky foundations, with a lot of maneuvering. But they�ve managed to keep the planet united so far.

In fact, from what I hear, a number of Dungeon Worlds have made moves to unite their own worlds. The advantages we�ve managed to acquire by locking down the entire planet have made it apparent that they�ve been leaving a lot of Credits on the table. Now that they�ve got a working example, old rivalries that kept them apart have driven Galactic groups together. Still, there�s a weight of history behind a lot of the fractious enmities on other Dungeon Worlds. And so while plans might be in play, nothing has actually happened. Yet.

Roxley nods, confirming my understanding.

�Good. Because I have got a business proposition for all of you.�

The Truinnar cocks an eyebrow, and I can�t help but smile back. Just because I�ve left doesn�t make me any less a child of Earth. And I still need to have the initiates pass their quest.

Chapter 20

�This is a blatant abuse of power!� Magine complains.

I grin at the Movanna, then turn my gaze on the surviving Paladins. Only four of them are left: two Erethrans, Kino, and Magine. I�m surprised Freif hasn�t broken. I�m surprised Magine hasn�t flamed out. A lot of surprises, including Kino�s survival. But considering I started with seven, having four left is a pretty decent number, I figure.

If only I could have gotten to this stage by kicking them out. And not losing them.

�Yes, it very much is.� I grin.

We�re in a briefing room, back on palace grounds, where we�ve been training for the last week. There�s a little more polishing left to do for the initiates to learn how to work with their team, to fix problems we focused on in the debrief.

They weren�t happy after that meeting, not at all. Between Bolo, Mikito, myself, and three guest lecturers from the armed forces we�d invited, we spent the better part of the day tearing apart every single mistake they did. Everything they could have done better. Everything they could have done so that their friends hadn�t died.

We go through the recordings, sparse as they are. We pull out the video of the main fights, and when the cameras are destroyed, we go through the reams of reports they and their people provide. Lines and lines of data, of people explaining where they were, why they went there, why they were separated. More than enough, for all of us to dig in.

Because that was the underlying point. If they had pulled enough aggro, done enough damage, freed up enough of the weaponry, turned off the safeties on the mobile drones, or taken over the first level fast enough, then maybe instead of four, maybe five or six members would be here.

We drove the point home, again and again.

We traced how Freif, at the controls of the shielding station, destroyed it rather than hacking it. Not because he didn�t have the personnel who could, but because he got a little too gun happy.

We showed how Gheisnan was swarmed, forces turning on him, hemming him in. Till he was stuck in a corner, unable to break out, his Skills no longer as useful. He and his team had fought, back to back�till the sensor grid went down and we lost the ability to see his end.

The grid had gone down late because Anayton had been too slow, too careless in dealing with the personnel in her own target. They�d refused to listen, refused to hand over the work, and when she finally acted to kill them and release the controls, it was too late.

Magine, focused on taking out the AI controlling the wall, had torn his way through two different command centers, searching for the right person. Never taking the time to actually locate the main control personnel, relying instead on speed and violence. And failing.

Over and over, we went over their actions, what they could have done better. Should have done better. We didn�t even spare the mistakes made by the dead. Because there�s a lesson there. We drill in their mistakes, their failures, the tragedy of their actions.

And the initiates don�t break.

Irritated, hurt, maybe a little ashamed. But not broken. Maybe it�s their old training, maybe some of the steel we�ve managed to bury in their backs. But even after everything, they�re still willing to bitch me out. In public. Just less colorfully.

�We do have a facility there,� Freif says, frowning. �The training you want us to do, it won�t be that much different��

�Not training. Your Quest.�

�You�re finally ready to give it to us?� Anayton says, distrust deep in her voice.

�Yes. You�re ready. Or as ready as I can get you.� I shake my head. �You know all the dangers now, have an idea of what you need to fight for. The rest, you�ll figure out yourself. Or not. That�s the only other lesson I have to impart.�

�We�ve got to figure it out ourselves?� Magine says derisively. �That�s worse than an unClassed fortuneteller�s five-Credit pronouncement.�

�I�d have gone with fortune cookie, but you do you.�

Of course, the Galactics all looked puzzled. I doubt System downloads on Earth culture contained fortune cookies. I don�t think I�ve even seen one since the end of the apocalypse. At least, not one that wasn�t pre-System. Though the cookies all taste the same, even years later.

�The test?� Kino rumbles.

I stop teasing the easy target that is Magine and flick my hand. I don�t really need to do that, but a little drama is useful once in a while. The group falls silent as they read over the System notification.

System Master Class Quest: Paladin of Erethra

You have been granted the opportunity to become a Paladin of Erethra. To do so, you must complete a Master Class Quest of sufficient difficulty at the behest of your Paladin of Erethra mentor (John Lee).

Do you accept?

[Y\N]

�Are you sure of this, boy-o?� Ali sends to me. There�s a tinge of concern coming through the mental pathways that the System carves for us.

�Yes.�

Truth is, I�m not. But I do know that holding off any longer is a bad idea. In the last fight, I managed to eke out another Level, between the deaths and the System updates from the library. I�m trending up, and up, and there�s only so long before the Queen gets impatient.

As for my doubts about what happened? The niggling concern that the two pureblood Erethrans are still here and my losses have all been non-Erethrans? Those I keep to myself. It could be coincidence. It could be something else. I could research it, dig into what really happened. Even through the Skill-shrouded Keeps� defenses, even if there are locks in place that stop me from buying it directly from the Shop.

I have my doubts. But in the end, we need more Paladins. Or at least, the Erethrans do.

System Master Class Quest: Paladin of Erethra

Your Paladin of Erethra mentor (John Lee) has designated the following requirements for your Master Class Quest:

- Defeat 5 Master Class Monsters (Level 150 or more) in the designated locale (Earth) without aid beyond your bonded team.

�What the hell is a bonded team?� Magine calls.

�Whatever you decide to make it.� I lean over the table, dropping my voice to help make this clear. �But make sure it�s a nice, tight bond. Because otherwise, the System won�t count it. Make it a Serf contract, make it an Oath or a Gaea�s. Or a Feudal Bond.� I incline my head toward Mikito, who smiles slightly. �But these people are people you�ll trust with your life. For now. And for the rest of your time as Paladins.�

�So like your group,� Kino accuses.

I glance back at Harry and Bolo, then turn back to the group and shake my head. �Not exactly. Those guys are more hangers-on.�

I admit, I cheat. I use the security cameras installed in the meeting room to watch Harry�s and Bolo�s reaction to my dismissal of their loyalty. Bolo glares at the back of my head, as if he could bore through with just his gaze. Harry�s steadier, shrugging as if what I said was true. I know Dornalor would agree. It�s not as if he�s ever made any bones about his loyalties. It�s a good thing that I�ve got the Credits.

And he�s one of those rare, rare pirates. He stays bought.

�But you guys aren�t me. You�ve got friends, comrades, brothers in arms. People you�ve fought with that you can draw upon. Your job, what you�re going to do, is quite well-defined. At least in societal terms. They know what they�re getting into.� I lean forward, looming over them, the feel of the hard light table cool against my touch. �And if you don�t have anyone, I suggest you start thinking really hard about what you�ve done to achieve that in your life.�

�After all, even this mutilated corpse of a human has one person who�d follow him into the depths of hell,� Ali helpfully adds.

Mikito coughs into her hand, trying to hide the laughter that bubbles out. Bolo and Harry don�t even bother, guffawing behind me. The initiates are a little more wary, but they do all crack a smile.

�Five Master Class monsters. That�s quite a number.� Anayton shakes her head before regarding me fully. �Do you really expect us to survive doing this?�

�I do. And so does the System.� I pause, then admit, �At least, some of you.�

�And you did this? You beat five Master Class monsters?� Magine says, eying me up and down. There�s a glint of the competitive Duelist there. And something more.

I raise a hand and waggle it side to side. When they frown, I explain. �Probably. The Quest was the same. Mostly. But I was in the Forbidden Zone, so Levels were a little weird. I mostly just killed the biggest, baddest city-stompers I could find and hoped that it was enough. We couldn�t even check that often.�

�You and your team?� Kino says.

The other initiates are already shaking their heads, remembering details, but I answer him anyway. �No. No team. The Champion tossed me in alone.�

Those words bring a long, long silence.

Kino shifts, little rocks trembling across his body, ground dust falling. Magine continues to eye me, and I wonder if maybe I shouldn�t have reminded him. He only gave Mikito that look�as if she was worthy, unlike me�until now.

The other two are silent, possibly reviewing their own chances. Truth be told, I�m not entirely sure how I survived. A hell of a lot of stubbornness and a good dose of luck. My affinity helped, that I know.

�But this is the System Quest. Kill, defeat, or otherwise deal with five Master Classers while you�re in Advanced Class. I adjusted it a little for the Dungeon World, but the goal is the same. Do more than you think you can,� I say those last words, facing each of the four initiates in turn, meeting their gaze and weighing them. �You have a week to get ready. Build your teams, bond them however you wish. Pass the information to me. We meet in a week. And we�ll Portal you straight in.�

I don�t tell them I�ve already decided where they�ll each go. It doesn�t really matter. It�s a big world and there are a lot of monsters. Dividing them up across Earth will keep them busy and out of each other�s way. And give my allies a few more favors to call in in the future.

Seeing that I�m done speaking, the group troops out. Ali�s already deposited the basic information they need, but for the rest of it, they�ll have to do their own research. No handholding this time.

As the last of them trundles out, leaving rock dust in his wake, I feel a weight leave my shoulders. I�ve done everything I can for them. Now�

It�s time for me to deal with the rest of my obligations.

***

Ayuri finds me lounging on a deck chair beside the pool in my residence. I�ve had to reconfigure the building a little, replace the basement with the deck chair and diving pool. Finding pool water was an interesting experience. Especially when the building offered a million and one different variations. From seawater from different atolls and planets, to different kinds of spring water, specially curated and oxidized H^2^0, and more. It was kind of annoying, especially when I realized that I had to add some chlorine anyway. Thankfully, Ali swept in and helped with the reconfiguration before I blasted a hole in the building itself in exasperation.

So.

I lounge beside my pool under an artificial sun conjured from the holographic projectors hanging overhead. Blue skies and rolling wisps of clouds float by, while the occasional caw of birds and insects blare from the speakers.

�This is where you are?� Ayuri says, glaring at me.

I smile at the tall champion and raise my glass at her. �Pina colada?�

Ayuri eyes the blended, pale-yellow slushy of a drink with vague interest before she shakes her head. �I�m here on business, Redeemer.�

�Your loss.�

�You gave the initiates their Master Class Quest.� Ayuri says.

�You here to kill me now?� I reply, mostly in jest. After all, they still need my help for one other thing. Though rumors are that the Queen is doing pretty well. She might last another couple of decades before someone kills her.

�Obviously not. I do think you should be raising your Level instead of lounging.� Ayuri crosses arms, glaring at me. �Or are you waiting for your indulgence?�

�Indulgence?�

Ayuri raises a single eyebrow, skepticism and suggestion written across her face in broad strokes.

I laugh, shaking my head. �I think Catrin would find being called an indulgence amusing. Don�t you?�

I open up Society�s Web and stare at the numerous lines radiating out from the Champion. There�s a very thin line that touches upon my current flame. Nothing like the thread Ayuri has to Saimon. A lot of old feelings there, between her and the Seeker.

�Are you using that Skill on me?� Ayuri says, anger flaring. She steps toward me, fist clenching. �Don�t you know that�s rude?�

�Actually, pretty sure it isn�t.� I sip on the pina colada, ignoring her show of temper. This isn�t the time or the place for a fight. Nor is she gonna commit. �So what are you doing here? If not getting drunk?�

Ayuri stares at me for a second more, then snorts and flops down. Seconds before she hits the ground, a floating, cloudy chair forms, catching her in its pillowy goodness. She twists her hands, making a drink from the sidetable float over before she pours herself a glass. Only when she�s suitably seated does she speak. �The cover is blown. Add your acts against the nobles and� well. You�re in danger.�

�Heck. As if they weren�t pushing it already,� I say, chuckling a little.

Mana mourns, I�ve had to fete the two major contenders. Then there are the half dozen other wannabes who have made their way over, watching our training, offering suggestions, Credits, and other less subtle bribes.

Spuryan has been much more subtle, sending members of his congregation to meet me, to talk to us quietly whenever they have a chance. Just small ways, messengers and other documentation, to show that his people, his way can work too.

I�m not looking forward to the hard press. But I need to speak with them all more. See the other options, learn a little more of their world. I�ve only seen a half dozen worlds so far, after all. There�s more to learn, more to fight.

�You need that level.� Ayuri says rather firmly. �On top of that, Unilo has something to talk to you about too.�

�About time she asked for her favor.� I wonder what she needs from a poor benighted soul like me. �Anything I should know?�

�You know, she is my teammate,� Ayuri says.

�That a no?�

I watch as Ayuri fights herself. Loyalty to the Empire warring with loyalty to her friend. In the end, the Empire wins out. It always will with someone named the Champion. �She�s a noble, as you know. But the family has been in disgrace for years. What she might ask will benefit her family more than herself.�

�No hints on that?� I continued to prod.

�No.� There�s a little doubt, a little concern in Ayuri�s voice. I wonder if she even knows. She tilts her glass back, draining it, then pours herself another. �What is this astringent taste? And why is it so enticing?�

�Pineapple.� I go into the building menu. A second later, a pineapple pops into existence, teleported here by the System. I wince at the extravagant cost. I catch it and hand the whole fruit to her. �This one�s unmutated. Which, by the way, makes it a premium product these days.�

Ayuri dubiously eyes the spiked, bright pale-yellow fruit. Eventually, she puts it into her inventory. And then, she downs another glass.

�Let her know I�ll see her tomorrow. And get Mayaya to come so that he can port me over directly.� I stand, leaving my glass behind. As I walk over to the water, I add, �You know, your pet Paladins might not be what you think they are.�

There�s only silence from behind me as I approach the edge of the pool.

I stare at the pale blue waters, rippling from the artificial breeze I have blowing through the room. �But that�s the thing about people, isn�t it? They can always surprise you.�

I don�t let her answer before I dive in. Letting the cold wrap me. Letting the fear of the water clutch at me as old wounds, old memories rise up. But this is a fear I�ve learnt to deal with. I�ve learned to live with. It clutches at my chest, stutters my heart, and makes it beat faster. It consumes my mind.

As for all my other worries, of the Empire and the games being played? Those get driven out, at least for a time.

Chapter 21

We step out of the Portal together, dubiously eyeing the small island we�ve arrived on. Already, Ali, who had gone ahead, is updating my minimap, giving me location data and information about the surroundings. He�s blocked off from a lot of information and restricted in his flight paths, but basic geography and the Galactic equivalent of GPS is fine. All of that tells me we�re on another planet, though I could have told you that from the shift in gravities. Three times Earth normal, which means little when your Strength is in the hundreds. But annoying anyway.

�Paladin. Thank you for coming,� Unilo says, greeting me when I walk forward. The Erethran is clad not in her military uniform but something more relaxed. It�s a mixture of a corset, floofy dress arms, and ultra-tight pants, all in dark pink and lined with white fur.

That�s the other thing. The crisp, freezing air tugs at my exposed skin, leaving ice crystals. The temperature is just above -40 Celsius, not including windchill. Sadly, I have to admit, it reminds me of Whitehorse.

Not that I�m a native. I still think of Vancouver as home more than Whitehorse. But that city�really, a town�is still central to who I became. And so my memories of it dominate. Including the damn cold. On top of that, the white snow that layers itself over the landscape, the snow glare the makes my pupils shrink, is another reminder.

�Unilo. Good to see you.� I give her one of the Erethran salutes, sloppily done because, well, no one ever told me how to do it properly. Also, I must admit, I never bothered to find out. �Your invitation was� expected.�

Unilo sniffs and turns, popping open a Portal. She steps in, and Ali and I follow. Harry is the only other member of my party who decided to join, raring at the chance to see another planet. One that isn�t trying to eat his face.

Dornalor decided to spend the week running another job, wanting to test out his ship on a more routine assignment. Those were exactly his words. I really didn�t want to ask.

Given the choice between lounging around and joining Dornalor, my friends ran off. Even Mikito. I feel insulted, but I�m not a fan of politics either.

To my surprise, rather than leading me to a board room, Unilo brings me to the entry courtyard of her residence. Then she keeps walking, past servants and a doorway to a living room. The entire place is tastefully done, luminescent pale blue and white, shades of a dark purple accent highlighting the wallpaper. The couches have a light brown accent with yellow trim and are placed in a rectangular circle with one end open and sitting tables alongside each couch.

Unilo takes a seat on one of the chaises, and I take a more traditional couch diagonally opposite hers. Harry, on the other hand, is taken by the arm and guided out by a waiting servant, to be shown around the estate.

The moment he walks out, both spatial locks and privacy locks appear. Surprisingly, there are three in place. One for the room, one for the residence, and one for the planet. Powerful enough to stop me from jumping out if I need to and to keep the vast majority of our conversation hidden.

�So what is this about?�

�One second. We�re waiting for one more person,� says Unilo.

She turns her head, and a man saunters in. He�s older, lines on his face, his neck, and his hands. He has tattoos all across his face, branching swirls reaching from his neck and up to his face, highlighting the coral on his ears. And his hair is shorn short, unlike the common flowing locks I�ve seen sported by most Erethran nobles.

He�s also sporting an assortment of Mana enchantments. Multiple rings, bracers, anklets, something around his chest region, more attached to his belt. And they�re not low-level enchantments either. At least three are Master Class level.

�John Lee, Paladin of Erethra. I present to you my older brother, Kilgave d�Cha, Warden of the Thrilsala System,� Unilo says.

Kilgave bows to me, while I offer him a half-hearted wave from my seat. Ali slips around, coming to hold a position just slightly behind the man as he stops next to Unilo�s seat. Ali�s out of their direct line of sight though. Only I can see him directly. This gives him an opportunity to stick out his tongue and waggle his fingers in suggestive ways.

Kilgave d�Cha, Warden of the Thrilsala System, Champion of the 631^st^, 632^nd^ and 648^th^ Mithril Man Competition, Monster Bane, Slayer of Goblins, Hakarta, Movanna,� (Level 33 Sundered Champion) him (M)

HP: 8480/8480

MP: 5230/5230

Conditions: Warden�s Reach, Broken End, Aura of the Sundered Champion, Mana Warden

�Sundered Champion?� I send to Ali.

�Disgraced? Might be better. It�s not exactly right. There are a lot of cultural connotations involved. I think disgraced is a little too much.� Ali shrugs. �It�d take a bit to explain. But he�s the ex-Empire Champion. Class got changed.�

�I thought there was only one.�

�There can only be one.� And because he�s Ali, he plays an all-too-familiar riff. I snort, but he doesn�t take too long, considering the two of them are blathering at me with the usual pleasantries of our meeting. �He had the job before Ayuri. Before his fall.�

�Oh boy.�

I tune back into the conversation, something about the drink and snacks that have arrived. A part of me has been busy chatting with them, grunting and making tasteful, social noises. And stuffing my face with the little lemon bar snacks they�ve put out. Of course, they�re not really lemon bars, but a close enough Galactic equivalent.

As they talk more, going into detail about the recipe, I trigger Society�s Web. It takes minutes before I gain an understanding, watching the way the many, many threads fly out from Kilgave and touch others. The only people I�ve ever seen with more threads are the Queen and Ayuri herself.

I guess that�s part and parcel of being a Champion.

I�m almost tempted to ask about his Skills. A surge from the library has me almost choking on a bite as I struggle to pin down the incoming information. I don�t need another download right this second.

After swallowing the bite, tasting the astringent sourness and sweetness, and washing it down with a gulp of flavored water, I gesture at the pair. �All right. Enough already. What is it that you guys want?�

Unilo almost makes a face at my abrupt change of topic. She looks exasperated, but the former Champion laughs.

�I was beginning to wonder if the stories were true. I�m glad they are,� Kilgave says. �It�s simple. My niece tells me that you owe her a favor. We are here to collect.�

�I�m not going to kick Ayuri out of her place,� I say. �I don�t even think I�m allowed to.�

�I would never do that to my beam sister,� Unilo says, looking scandalized. She�s so angry that the cup she was holding cracks before dropping to the floor and shattering.

We�re all distracted for a second, before the cleaning bots sweep and tidy it away.

By that point, Unilo�s got her temper back in control. �We want you to do something else.�

�Yeah, I don�t really have daddy issues. At least, not like that,� I say.

Ali, over and behind him, is flipping in circles, choking on laughter. It�s a nice contrast to the two who just looked very puzzled.

�Stop talking nonsense, Redeemer,� Unilo snaps. �We want you to give my brother the Paladin Master Quest.�

�Huh.� I lean back, sinking into the chair as I regard the pair. I could say it was a surprise, but really, when she brought him in, there weren�t that many other options. Well, other than me being dragged into a random, erratic quest for justice. �Why?�

�It doesn�t matter. You owe me,� Unilo snaps.

�It does.� I cross my arms, fixing the pair of them with a firm gaze. �Talk, or I won�t do it.�

�You�ll break your word!� Unilo says, raising her voice for the first time.

�Yep.�

Before Unilo can dig herself any deeper, the man puts a hand on her shoulder. She subsides almost immediately. There�s no doubt who�s in charge of this little conversation.

�It�s very simple, Redeemer. I might be old, and my honor might be questionable to some. But I still serve the Empire,� Kilgave says. �This, this opportunity is the best that I can find.�

�So why me? Why not go to the Forbidden Zone yourself?�

He hesitates before he answers. �I did. Your mentor turned me down.�

I snort, staring into space. More correctly, at the line that leads to my mentor. There�s a lot packed in there�both duty and obligations, and something personal. In fact, that personal bit wraps itself around the thread that holds them together. It balloons and sizzles in every interaction, tainting every responsibility and duty they might have.

�Why?�

�We disagreed. About what she was supposed to do, what I was supposed to do. We disagreed about the King and her duties, and by the time I realized she was right, it was too late.� Regret flashes across Kilgave�s face and I start piecing together their history.

�You were the Champion for the mad King,� I state.

�He wasn�t mad. He was just�� Kilgave seems to try to find a word. In the end, he shrugs. �Selfish. In need of control. Narcissistic. But not mad.�

I snort at him cutting such a fine line. But it�s past history, not one I�m interested in digging up. I fall silent, regarding him. Prodding at the System in my head even as data, at the slightest loosening of my will, floats in. Information about his Skills, his abilities, what he can do, what he lost, and what he gained. A lot of information, but a fallen Champion is something the Questors would be very interested in.

I come back to myself, the pair still staring at me patiently. I can�t help but shake my head, wondering if they thought I was considering the offer. Or accessing information about them. I wish Harry was here, but even the party chat is blocked right now. Communication seems to be off the tables.

�You�re a Master Class. With quite a few Levels. How are you going to take mine?�

�I�ll give this one up. I�ll take the penalty. If you�re willing to give me the opportunity,� Kilgave replies, his voice firm and without any trace of hesitation.

�Again? You�ve already lost quite a few Levels, changing Classes once.�

�It is what it is. For the Empire, losing a few Levels is nothing,� Kilgave says fervently.

I stare into his eyes as he speaks, trying to judge how true he is. Not just because he�s not using a Skill, but how true it is in his soul. And I�m not surprised to see, to believe, that he�s telling the truth. He would give it all up. For an Empire that threw him aside once before.

�And the Queen?� I turn to Unilo, fixing her with my stare. �What does she think of this?�

�She doesn�t know,� Unilo replies, her voice dropping as she stares at the retreating cleaning robots now that they�ve done their job. Now that they�ve removed any speck of the liquid or glass she had broken. Leaving us in beautiful, serene, blue cleanliness.

�And if she did?�

�She would be less than pleased,� Unilo replies, the words seemingly dragged out of her.

�Does Ayuri know?�

�She� guesses.�

I sit back, idly picking up one of the lemon bars and biting it. This one is more raspberry than lemon, but it�s tart and sweet and something to do with my mouth while I think. Plus points�it�d annoy the Queen. Negative points�it�d annoy the Queen.

On the other hand, Ayuri knowing what is about to happen means that while it might anger the Queen, it probably is good for the Empire itself. That�s one of the constraints about her Class. Though I�m not entirely certain how constrained she is. Even that giant library in my head doesn�t have specifics�mostly because they haven�t done in-depth research into the Champion�s Class directly.

Class restrictions are a known issue, but while it was useful for knowledge�s sake, it didn�t seem to help the System Quest. So that branch of research was dropped by the Questors. At least, in general. Others have continued to do research, of course, and it�s from those studies that I know more of Class restrictions. Which, as with most things in the System, can be as loose or as constrained as the System deems it. The trade-offs in power are significant though, which is why many continue to explore the intricacies.

�Why do you want to be a Paladin?� I say. It�s almost a rhetorical question now, because I think I know. There are only a few kinds of people who become Champions.

�To serve the Empire. The real Empire,� Kilgave says. When my silent and steady gaze demands more, he sighs. �I failed. The first time. Thinking I served the Empire, but what I served was a man. Now� now I want to make it right.�

�You know, I put the initiates through a lot of training��

�Which I do not need,� Kilgave says, sounding almost affronted. I can�t help but chuckle, seeing the spark of arrogance in his eyes. �I have fought more and harder monsters than those you sent them for. And I learnt my lessons, the lessons you tried to impart, decades ago. At greater cost than I would wish on anyone.�

�One last question then. Tell me the story.�

�What story?� Unilo says.

But Kilgave knows and squeezes that hand on her shoulder. She looks at him and he offers her a pained half-smile.

�It is not an easy thing, to tell of your failures�� Kilgave begins, before he launches into the tale. It�s one of mistakes, of indecisions. Of lives taken and lost. And in the end, of a man who chose to stand aside when it was necessary. To fail his own Class to save an Empire.

When that somber tale is over, I ask, �And what? You�ve been chilling at the family estates since then?�

�I�ve been doing what I can to aid the Empire. Even a fallen Champion is a powerful force,� Kilgave says. �But I�m limited in what I can do internally. By those who believe what I did was wrong. By my former position. By my present Class.� He gestures upward. �I cannot affect the change I need��

�Yeah, yeah, I get it.� I wave, shutting him up. I see the flash of anger, the pride that he bites down on while I run pell-mell over his need to monologue. At his peak, he was nearly a Heroic. Then he lost it all and has had to claw his way back. �Don�t care. You want the Quest? Let�s see what the System has to say about it.�

I feel for the System. It�s kind of like reaching behind your back, except not with your hands but with the tail that you never realized you had. And then punching a bunch of buttons, still sight unseen, with that same tail to make it dance to your commands.

It�s weird.

And, sadly, with the way the System has increased my Intelligence, with the way the library has downloaded so much information, all too doable. I find the portion of my Class that lets me designate new Paladin initiates, that allows me to offer them the Quest.

It balks at first, because he�s a Master Class. And when I press, overriding the initial resistance, I feel the mental fuzz it throws at my will, the shock of its cold jaws clamping down on my desire. It strains and bucks at my commands, refusing to let me do it.

That�s the worst thing the System could have done. Because suddenly, I want it.

Not because of Kilgave and his idiotic need to serve an Empire that doesn�t give a damn about him. That might even hate him. I want it because the System doesn�t.

I grunt out loud and ignore the pair before me as my head throbs, as my vision goes red. Will against System, I bring all the tools I have to play with�Mana Sense, affinity, knowledge from the library, and will�to bear.

It buckles and finally gives in. Because while it might not want to, the Quest is still a possibility. Like stabbing a fork into a clogged up, dirty electric outlet to free it up till you could slot your computer in. It�s not smart and you might get shocked a little, but it�ll work.

Eventually, I stare at the Quest notification.

System Master Class Quest: Paladin of Erethra

Your Paladin of Erethra mentor (John Lee) has designated the following requirements for your Master Class Quest:

- Reset and lose Master Class Levels (XP will be refunded and banked at a reduced rate)

- Defeat 11 Master Class Monsters (Level 150 or more) in the designated locale (~Error!~) without aid beyond your bonded team.

Huh. I blink, prodding at the Quest with my mind and will. But that last error keeps throwing itself up, firmly deciding not to resolve itself. I get a feeling it won�t, not till it�s given.

�Redeemer?� Unilo calls.

�So� this might be interesting.� A push of will and I make the blue notification screen show up.

Unilo�s face scrunches up and she leans forward, trying to assess what the hell it says.

Kilgave�s reaction is much more dramatic. His knees give way and he flops down onto the chaise, missing it by inches and being saved from an ungainly spill by the chaise itself moving to catch him. His jaw is working while the couch moves itself and its occupant back into place.

�Can�t have the furniture at the wrong angles,� Ali says, sounding amused.

�You know, being shocked over a simple Quest doesn�t engender a lot of faith in your ability to complete it,� I say, drawling.

�That� you� the location. Why�?�

�The Error? Not my fault.� I lean forward, pouring myself more of the fruity drink, then glug it down, trying to wash away the slight headache conjuring that damn Quest notification had produced.

�What error?� Kilgave says, sounding confused. �I�m talking of sending me to Bohmer.�

The name sends a shiver through me. I know that name, though I rarely use it. Because that name brings too many bad memories. Too many horrors from the four years I spent there. And so, instead of facing the fear, I wall it away, pushing it down and focusing on something else. Something a little more incongruous.

�Why there?� Unilo mouths my question.

�I�� I shake my head. The System� sometimes. I wonder about it. Some of its decisions, some of the things that happen, it makes no sense�unless it�s alive. As circles get completed, as narrative and karmic ends� fit. For Bohmer is more than just another Forbidden Planet and the center of my own slew of nightmares.

It�s also the ex-capital of Erethra. And where their ex-King fell.

Where Kilgave chose to stand aside.

And where Suhargur refuses to leave, fighting her never-ending battle to save those citizens who refused to go. Or, in many cases, have nowhere left to go, on pain of death.

So many circles completing. And staring at the Quest, I laugh softly. And do as the System wants. Because I can think of nothing more fitting. I offer him the Quest and all that it entails. The danger, the despair, and the return to his failure.

And maybe his salvation.

While Kilgave stares at the Quest notification, his brash certainty gone, I stand. My motion does nothing to distract the pair, so I walk out, leaving Unilo and the ex-Champion to their considerations.

Though not before snagging the plate of snacks.

Chapter 22

They came for me when I was Leveling. Gaining access to the city dungeons was simple enough, just a matter of showing up. I�d gone alone, leaving my friends behind. Not wanting to be burdened by their XP debuff, not wanting to be slowed down by Harry. And, most importantly, because they�d found better things to do.

Like indulging himself in the city for Bolo, and fighting in the arena for Mikito. Dornalor left almost immediately after his mission, to run another trip. From what the trio said, the �routine� mission had turned out to be just that�a pure pick up and deliver event. When asked, Dornalor had pointed out that most missions didn�t involve violence.

Harry was enjoying himself on the planet, bouncing from city to city. Restricted as he was in the palace, he�d found a niche doing touring documentaries all through the planet. It wasn�t his preference, but he was still waiting on additional approval to get to the frontlines.

Which left me to myself. Alone and vulnerable.

The dungeon itself was nothing special, other than the fact that it wasn�t a fantasy rip-off. Instead, we had robots in all kinds of configurations that you could think of�swarming across walls like spiders, flying through the air as hordes of mini drones, even a few humanoid terminators.

Most interesting of all were the bipedal robots wielding gun arms, firing upon me as they twisted all around their torso. They were mini-bosses, roaming sentinels. They popped up every time I was between zone transition in levels, before I hit next level boss.

The city dungeon itself is twelve levels deep, and I�m down in level nine when they come.

I�d started at the top, working my way down in quick order before slowing down at the last couple of levels. Partly to keep my Mana levels high, partly because things are beginning to get interesting.

I skip along the pale gray walls, armored feet tearing into the metal as I run along it, mass impacts ringing throughout the rectangular room we�re fighting in. For the creativity shown in building out the robots, in developing the variety of androids, the actual environment is a letdown. Other than the occasional blockade of metal, most of the rooms and corridors are smooth surfaces, leaving open lines of sight and few places to hide. Good thing I�d recently been fighting in a space station with almost the exact same problem.

An exertion of will and the spell finishes, the formula for the Mana escaping my mind as I release it, creating a small hill on the floor. Not a large hill, but more than adequate to throw off the aim of the sentinels as they fire. The small hill grows, metal warping and bulging, and the sentinels stagger, trying to right their balance.

I�m grinning, ready to destroy the staggering sentinels, when a pair of two-foot-long blades fly through the air. These attackers are new, and definitely not a dungeon feature as they make their presence known.

The first two blades sink into my back, punching right through my active Soul Shield and Hod�s Armor before digging into muscle and bone. I fall off the wall, the weapons embedded in my back as I tumble to the ground. Notifications flash, too fast to keep track of all, but I get glimpses.

Successful Dual Backstab!

+1787 Damage Inflicted

You have been Poisoned! (54% Resisted)

+214 Damage per second

Additional Effects: You are Disoriented!

Duration: 6.3 seconds

The blades fly out seconds later as my emergency Shield Ring kicks in, throwing the weapons away from me. Hod�s secondary defensive shields turn on as well with a quick exertion of will. I roll on the ground, coming to my feet, but the others are already attacking.

Mana, that I hadn�t noticed building up, is unleashed. No fancy elements here, no special projection, just raw, harnessed Mana slamming into the shields. I tumble through white light, trying to balance out the damage the moment it pierces my shielding. It doesn�t do much, especially when I bounce off the floor.

Instinctively, I reach for the Mana with my Elemental Affinity, hoping to see it off a little. And, of course, fail. Mana has no electromagnetic force, no physical aspect for my ability to grasp. Whatever it is, it�s not one of the fundamental physical aspects of the universe.

A second after the raw Mana flames die off, as I regain my sense of balance, I�m slammed into by another figure. The Ram�s Rush throws me into the wall again, bouncing me off it, the ceiling, then the floor. My armor is smoking, damage notifications flaring everywhere and reminding me that I�m in a dire situation. Surprise assassinations are a nasty, nasty business.

As I roll onto my knees, I spot the rushing, eleven-foot, stone-like creature�one of the Risen�on his way to finish the job. I feel Mana rising as the Mage continues his casting, readying another powerful spell. All of this in microseconds�

More than enough information gathered. That�s when I act.

�Standard formation,� I send to Ali.

Abyssal Chains, rising from the ground, wrap around the tank and the mage, restricting their motions. I wish I could get the rogue, but he�s gone, a ghost in the System.

That�s fine, because I keep moving, throwing my daggers at the tank, layering another Soul Shield onto my defense. Hod�s force shield flickers back on after a second, regeneration kicking in as the Mana Engine goes to work. If the rogue wants to backstab, he�ll have to get into position, and I�m not looking to make it easy.

Even so, uncertain if there might be more waiting, I keep angling around the tank as he breaks free. A second team perhaps, waiting for me to waste my Mana on these guys. So rather than do that, I use my knives, the inbuilt beam weaponry on Hod�s Armor, and my blades to trim down the Risen.

Risen Tank (Erethran Vanguard Level 47) (A)

HP: 2138/4840

MP: 983/1780

Conditions: Structural Integrity, Wrath of the Masses, The Sacrifice of One, Earthen Density, Lightfoot, Greater Health Regeneration, Greater Mana Regeneration

A quick stutter in his health, when it drops after an attack and starts rising, makes me grit my teeth. The poison coursing through my blood is painful, fogging my thoughts, eating at my nerves and slowing down my reactions. That�s why it took me so long to realize it.

An exertion of will, and threads appear. I dismiss the minor ones, then I dismiss those that lead to family, to those he loves. His crazed obsession with the Champion and another Legendary Artiste. Within seconds, the details of their team are all too apparent. I feel someone slide into my mind, share my senses for a second, then Ali pops out.

�Three o�clock, three feet behind that crushed mass.�

I can only grunt my reply as I block the swings of the Risen. He sends me skittering seven feet in the wrong direction. I wince, my hands throbbing, my blades all scattered by the sheer force of his attack. The Risen winds up again, getting ready to throw another gauntleted punch with a Power Punch combined.

But I�m already murmuring, both hands up, my sword dropped to the ground. Power floods into my hands as the spell ignites. I can�t help but grin as I mutter, �Fastball special, coming right up.�

Electricity, lightning drawn from the very air around us, erupts from my hands. I reach out with my Elemental Affinity even as I note how Ali swoops down to join the stream. He�s adding his gifts, but seeing the battered, shattered remnants of the monsters we�ve been fighting has given me another idea.

I reach for the energy sources of these creatures, touch upon the Mana batteries. I can�t control Mana, but the engines, the converters, are using enough electricity for me to manipulate. I make them go into overdrive, using a combination of Mana and Elemental Affinity. It�s easier than it ever has been�partly because of the library, I think.

The ground before me erupts as lightning, flowing from my hands into the tank, strikes the ground and the shattered corpses of the robots, going into overdrive and jumping right out with even more of a charge. It skips, low to the ground, into the air, directed by Ali and me. Creating a chain of destruction through the entire dungeon floor.

My eyes squint and water even as Hod filters out the light. The smell of ozone permeates the air, sinking in through the armor, its environmental seals cracked under the onslaught it had faced. I pick out, over the crackle of lightning and the muted screams of the tank, the screams of the mage and hidden healer as they�re caught in the web of electricity.

�That�s right, eat lightning!� Ali cackles, his invisibility faded as he directs the flow like a conductor at a symphony.

I bring lightning to the world and I don�t stop channeling Mana into my attack until the robots� batteries are drained, until the corpses are smoking husks. I stare at the crispy figures of what used to be sapient creatures. Their bodies, their equipment are so damaged, it�s impossible to tell what most of them once were. Only the Risen is still vaguely recognizable, a melted slag of rock and metal.

And all I can really think of is that I�m rather disappointed. I was expecting more of a challenge.

�Four�� I shake my head.

A normal team would be five strong. The thread I noticed showed a fifth, but it was frayed, broken. This was a team, there�s no doubt, but recently restructured. A team of four Advanced Classers sent to assassinate me.

The plan was good, but I guess they hadn�t thought of my Elemental Affinity�and what I could do with it here.

Then again, it�s hard to blame them. I hadn�t thought about it until just now.

�Looks like you ranked up again on your Affinity, boy-o.� Ali�s eyeing me slightly dubiously, having flown back after collecting the corpses.

�What?�

�Never seen someone get so used to playing with Mana and their Affinity so fast before,� Ali says.

I open my mouth to counter the Spirit, then pause. I remember my struggles, the way I fought to learn even a basic Spell modification in space. How hard it was.

And this� this was simple. Just a matter of creative thought, focus, and desire. And poof, I was suddenly generating multiple nexus points of energy, drawing from Mana batteries and transforming it. It was�

�Weird.�

�No shit.�

�Any idea why?� I say as I wait for the Hod to begin its healing process and for my Mana and Health to recover. Thankfully, the poison had timed out at some point in my little bout of madness. Which leaves me a lot clearer-headed.

�Only thing that changed was you being poisoned. And the you know what,� Ali says flatly.

I freeze, and for a second, I feel my heart speeding up. I draw a breath, inhaling and exhaling to steady myself. And I wonder, once more�what exactly did Feh�ral do to me?

***

Finding Saimon was a matter of a few calls. Finding him and a secure location where we could have the necessary discussion was a little harder. Not that there aren�t secure locations scattered throughout the city, but finding one that�s secure for our purposes was little more complicated. Which is why we end up in a private room of the Galactic equivalent of a strip club.

You have to give it to sapient creatures, privacy when you�ve got weird kinks�and Erethran kinks are really weird considering how open they are about sexuality in general�is a common theme. Considering how powerful certain Skills are, and the need for this level of privacy, the highest quality clubs are highly guarded.

Which, amusingly, sets up almost a sideline of non-sexual meetings. After all, getting caught arriving at such a location can be a lot less embarrassing. Safer too, than being suspected of plotting treason or the sale of state secrets. It�s still not agreeable, but it�s better than nothing. And so, when I make the request from them for a private room, one with a large enough area and a sterile environment, they don�t even blink.

�Those really aren�t the kinds of bodies I want to look at when I come to a place like this,� Bolo complains.

The Dragon Lord is why I located this place on such short notice. He�s also invited himself along. Mikito�s still stuck fighting her tournament but has promised to arrive soon.

�Not asking,� I reply to Bolo once more.

What is it with a certain type of person who feels the need to tell you all about his exploits? I don�t want to know, I don�t care, so please stop talking.

�I have to agree with the Dragon Lord,� Saimon replies. He�s staring at the corpses laid out, floating in midair due to the room�s gravity checks. They�re all shrink-wrapped, or the Galactic equivalent of it, so that they don�t smell or otherwise stink. Considering how they died, that�s something we all find comforting, I�m sure.

�Very funny, you two.� I point at the bodies. �These were military personnel. Their Classes are a clear indication of that, along with the information I managed to pick out. Now, there�s an obvious culprit. But Harry and Ali have already begun to hit a lot off cut-outs. So the obvious culprit might be just a red herring.�

�Is that a human saying?� Saimon asks.

�Yes,� I reply. �You�ve got the resources, so I�m leaving this to you.�

Harry looks up from where he and Ali are seated on one of those plush red couches with a lot of space in front of them and glares at me. I give him a shrug. I doubt he has the ability or the Credits to find out who sent assassins. These guys, they�ve been playing these games for decades, centuries even. And while Harry might be good at his job, he�s still learning the new landscape of the System. Given enough time, he might be able to track down the people who ordered these assassinations.

But time isn�t what I have.

�Perhaps we should look at this from another point of view,� Saimon says, even as he makes the bodies disappear into his storage.

�What view?�

�Who would want you dead?�

Bolo laughs as Ali snorts. He�s focused on trying to crack the trail of payments. Either that or he�s given up and is watching another Earth TV show. Sometimes, I can�t tell.

�The Redeemer is very hateable,� Bolo helpfully adds. �And all three of the major contenders have reasons to end him.�

�Yes, but why now?� Saimon says. �They�ve existed with him, without such overt action, for this long. What triggered the attack?�

I narrow my eyes, thinking about it. The obvious answer is the release of the initiates. The other one is the inclusion of the ex-Champion as an initiate. Both could be a tipping point for contenders. When I mention it, Saimon nods.

�That could certainly drive some to action.� When I raise my eyebrow, prompting him to go further, Saimon continues. �The Viscountess might take objection to the inclusion of a man who stood aside when the royalty died. She is, distantly, related.�

�There�s also the concern that your Paladins are in the majority all Erethran natives.� Harry looks up. �I could see the Prophet being concerned about their introduction. Magine is known for his support of the nobility.�

�Anyone have a reason why the General might want me dead?� I ask, just to check. I can�t think of one, but I�m not perfect.

Saimon shakes his head, as do Bolo and Harry. Ali�s the only silent member, and he spins himself in circles.

�So� I might have one,� Ali says. �Boy-o here is sleeping with one of his women.�

I snort, and the others just shakes their heads, discarding Ali�s suggestion. It�s pretty clear Brerdain doesn�t give a damn about Catrin.

�So we can assume that he�s out,� I say. �What do we do?�

My question brings a long long silence. The way I see it, there isn�t much we can do. Take the usual precautions, start looking into who might want me dead. And that�s it.

�Great. Pleasure talking to you all. If that�s the case, I�m going back to training,� I say, throwing my hands in the air. If there�s nothing else better to do, I might as well get back to grinding during the day and meeting with the contenders�and wannabe contenders�in the evening.

�I�ll double your protection force, shall I?� Saimon calls after me as I stalk out.

I ignore him, knowing that any team can be suborned or bypassed.

�I�m gonna stay here for an hour.� Ali calls, his voice much louder and deeper.

I glance back, realizing that he�s increased in size, and I wince. Sometimes, I really don�t understand the Spirit. Then again, sometimes, I don�t think I want to.

***

The last three Levels of the dungeon have been a pain to handle. Not just because monsters have cropped up from Level 100+ to Level 150+, but also because they kept coming in swarms and launching themselves at me. I�ve got to keep my Mana and health at at least 50% at all times. Add the fact that while I wait for the Hod to fix itself, I�m borrowing a suit from the Erethrans, and my combat effectiveness and speed are just down.

It�s not even as if the suit is bad. It�s the kind of thing they give to the Honor Guard to use. It�s biggest bonuses are to my strength and agility, with some increases to my defenses and resistances. However, it doesn�t have any useful Skills, just a short range Blink and a trio of movable force shields. None of them are that powerful, but because they�re built-in layers, they�re useful against certain types of attacks.

For all of that, my experience bar creeps up ever so slowly. At this rate, I�ll be grinding for the next couple of weeks or so to hit another Level. Even with the high-Level monsters involved, the experience requirements I have are just getting ridiculous.

But that�s for tomorrow. Right now, Ali and I have something much larger to handle.

Maydi Duz Dungeon Boss (Level 176 Final Boss)

HP: 17,613/17613

MP: 283/283

Conditions: Coalesced, Movable Parts, All for One, the Dungeon�s Gift

What I see before me is a towering mass of droids, robots, and other mechanical servants. It�s a hive mind kind of thing, except not. Each of the droids is a portion of its body, each individually run, but also beings managed by a central processing unit somewhere deep within the creature�s body. I�ve learnt of numerous ways of beating this creature, from slowly wearing away at the robot pieces and other appendages to shattering off portions and dropping them away into different dimensions so they can�t reattach. Acid baths melt the creature into a puddle of liquid metal.

There are other, more subtle approaches. Cyber hackers send in tracers, burrowing their way through communication links, destroying network accesses, corrupting files, and making the entire thing come apart before they destroy the CPU directly.

Mages who pull power drain the Mana from the environment and the creature itself, until such time as it�s no longer able to move, making it easy pickings. Oracles who are able to pinpoint the exact location of the CPU in the flowing mass of robots are able to direct their team to destroy the boss in one single combined blow. Necromancers, conjuring phantom facsimiles of ghosts, send them spinning into the center of mass to pull and extract bits and pieces.

There are a million ways of getting this done. But I�m a simple man. I take the simple approach to things.

Grinning, I conjure my swords and rush the boss. Daggers go out first, followed by Blade Strikes, each impacting a different location.

Missiles, fast-driven masses fired from railguns, lasers, and other beam weaponry, explode around me. Electricity arcs through the ground, sweeping at my feet, while gravitic mines turn on, trying to pull my balance off, to crush me or tear me apart in their competing spheres of influence.

The world goes insane, and for a time, I forget my problems and get lost in the fight. The minutes of peace when there�s nothing to do but struggle and survive.

***

A circle of light and alien glyphs form around me, punctuated by the temporary presence of additional, conjured soulbound swords. There are fifteen blades around me now, each glowing with compressed power. A single swing of the original weapon in my hand is copied fifteen-fold, sending a compressed Blade Strike at the torn and tattered Boss.

The Dungeon Boss is smaller, significantly smaller, than before. I�ve attacked it multiple times, destroying robot spiders, humanoid fighters, robotic sentinels, and the various liquid-metal externalities it�s used to attack me. I�ve littered the floor with pieces, shattered remnants of the monsters that appeared from the multiple hallways in their vain attempt to form up, to heal their master.

It�s why, through the fight, I�ve worked to control the environment. Lava rivers flow from one section of the hall to the other, blocking off easy access for respawns. Metal and earth walls clog up spawning entrances, making the creatures work to exit, while gravitic mines of my own sweep aside falling figurines, shifting their trajectories. Some land in traps, others on the spiked piles of other, older corpses. I have temporary wards set up in one section of the Boss Chamber, blocking off a swarm of tiny hornets, none of whom individually can shatter the wards.

And more.

The only thing I don�t have are my automated drones and weaponry. The wreck of an artillery drone, hacked and turned against me, lies discarded in a corner. A failure of imagination on my part.

I�ve fought the Boss for an hour, tearing him down until he�s half his original size. Just about big enough to be covered by my final attack.

Army of One�s manifestation is a screaming mass of bound Blade Strikes, spiraling in a formation of criss-crossing crescent energy to impact against the Maydi Duz. The Boss doesn�t take it lying down, reforming its mass to create a temporary shield of adamantium and electronics. I hear the tortured screams of drones and metal as they face my ultimate attack Skill. As it tears them apart like a six-year-old�s dreams of getting a pony.

One attack.

And the glowing green-and-red sphere of the monster�s core is exposed briefly. Before a chunk of it is torn aside, damaged but not dead. It managed to scoot aside just enough to avoid a quick death. Sadly, it never notices Ali floating down from above, a giant cartoonish hammer of formed energy in hand.

He swings with all his might, all the while sporting bunny ears and crowing, �Gotcha, doc!�

�Oy!� I shout at Ali. �No playing around.�

Ali sniffs, but the energy hammer he formed from the remnant energy expended by Army of One and the sizzling corpses is more than sufficient to end the Boss. I fly down, kicking off with hoverboots until I land next to the monster. I�m too late, as Ali loots the corpse and stares at our earnings.

Grumbling, I check my notifications.

Maydi Duz Dungeon Boss (Level 170 Final Boss) Defeated!

+98,484 XP

I grunt, waving away the rest of the information. While Ali blathers on about the loot, I walk toward the exit. Tomorrow�later today�I�ll hit the next City Dungeon, and the one after that. And then I�ll Portal to the next one and keep doing it. Grinding, till I hit my experience cap. I still have to find time for my interviews with the various members of the Erethran society, but I�m in a rush now. To hit my Levels before it�s time to let the Queen know. To protect myself from what might be a nasty confrontation.

Because I�ve got an idea of what I�ll do. Who I�ll choose.

And I know the Queen won�t like it.

But for now, rest.

***

�I got to admit, I�m a little disappointed,� I say softly.

My words startle the figure hovering over my bed, not with a knife or dagger or even an explosive, but with a bottle and dropper. It jerks, glancing at me then at the form lying there, finally spotting the differences. The way the hardlight projection shimmers just a little, at rates that would be impossible to see with naked, non-System eyes. The way its breathing is too regular.

My poisoner�which is what I assume the bottle is�doesn�t hesitate to flee, heading straight for the wall and the opening it had created. A neat trick that, making the nanite-created walls open up. It made no sound at all when it changed, and a simple force shield kept the wind and exterior temperature and pressure at bay.

My throwing dagger takes it in the thigh, sending the figure stumbling. I watch the overly generous curves go bouncing, a lock of colored, rainbow hair escaping its mask. The figure rolls and comes up to its knees, reaching for the dagger, only for it to disappear and return to me.

There�s a low hiss before it darts for the exit again�only to bounce off the elemental shielding Ali has formed. No touch of Mana there, just an adjustment between the air molecules. Making the loose air molecules harder than titanium.

�You can stop now,� I say.

I don�t throw my other knife, though I�m ready to. There�s something disturbing about the figure, something off about it. The way it lacks any threads leading to others is paramount among them.

Nothing�no one�can go through life without attachments. Without debts and obligations tying them down. Even a simple transaction of purchasing coffee sets up a reciprocal thread between you and the server. Those who think they are islands are just blind to the ground that connects them to the continents of humanity.

�You will fall.� The voice is high, pitchy. Feminine.

Before I can reply, the figure dissolves, the shadows that held it together coming apart. I reach out with my senses, Mana and Affinity, hearing and smell, and note that it�s gone. Completely. No hint of its scent, no trace of the Mana that bound it. I don�t bother checking my minimap, since it never showed up. Or the building�s security�for it had shown up, but as a friendly. And I sigh.

�Interesting. Doppelgangers don�t get threads,� I mutter. I recall how my own doppelgangers from Hod never gained any. They�re not real, just temporary constructs with no soul. Like a broom. Or a golem. No obligations, no duties, no threads. And thus, no way to track them. �Smart.�

�Yes, it is.� Ali floats in, already commanding the System to fix our bedroom. �So, basement?�

�Basement.� I open a Portal and sigh. �That�s two.�

�Mmmhmmmm��

Chapter 23

�Kino,� I say to the Risen, �I met one of your relatives recently.�

�My fissure-sire is no longer of this earth. Was it a grotto mate?� Kino says, rumbling over the table in the Shop.

Around the conference room, the other Paladin initiates are seated, some of them taking the few minutes in the Shop to look around, quite impressed by the surroundings. Others look more blas�, like Magine.

�Risen, not a close relative. He was quite insistent on meeting me. Had a very rough way of talking,� I say.

�He tried to kill you,� Freif replies, not all amused.

�Mmm, yes. And I only made one knock-knock joke,� I say.

Even Ali doesn�t get my joke, the Spirit in his full form.

So I give the jokes a rest. �All right, boys and girls. It�s been two weeks. Brief me. How�s it going on Earth?�

The group looks a bit awkward, most of them looking surprised that I want to talk to them.

Eventually, it�s Anayton who breaks the silence. �Were we not meant to do this quest� well, alone?�

�Oh, you mean, throw you guys into the middle of nowhere, watch you flounder and die?� When the group acknowledges my words in their own ways, I snort. �Yeah, that�s the way the Paladins used to do it. Kind of dumb, really.�

Freif reacts hard to that, leaning forward and almost snarling. Anayton isn�t far behind in her reaction, mouth opening. Magine is the most interesting of the group, the way he just stills.

�Don�t you dare�� Freif starts.

�What? Tell the truth?� I cut him off. �You�re going to be Paladins, if you survive. About time to take the blinders off. The way they used to do things? It was broken.� When Freif continues to try to speak, I twitch a finger and mute him, letting the sound distorters neutralize his words. �Sure, they kept you guys running. But there were barely two dozen Paladins at the best of times, and the vast majority of times, we�re talking about seven or eight.�

�Standards were high,� Freif says.

�Standards were idiotic,� I say. �Five Master Class monsters while you�re an Advanced Class? Do you know what the survival rate on the Master Quest was?�

There�s a long pause as the group looks from one to the other.

It�s Anayton who answers. �Seven percent. We checked.�

�Exactly. The best and brightest of you guys, and not even one in ten survived,� I say. �And so, you bled people. Again and again. And the ones who survived, they weren�t even the best people who could uphold what it was to be a Paladin, just the best killers.�

�Yes. That�s what Paladins are. The best of the best,� Magine says. �Well, with one obvious exception.�

�Bullshit.� I turn to Kino who stirred at Magine�s answer. �You have something to say?�

�Paladins are the pillars of justice, the levers of equality. They fix what must be fixed, when no one else will do so,� Kino says. �They were never, they should never, be just killers.�

�Exactly,� I say, pointing at the rockman. Freif is almost shouting now, or maybe he is. But he�s struggling and I realize I�ve still got him muted. I wave a hand, killing the mute and letting him free to speak again. �You have something to say?�

�They might not have been perfect, but neither are you.�

�All too true, as my friend will tell you,� I say and point at the Spirit.

Ali, in his corner, has a plateful of snacks rising from the table, which he�s hoarding over on his side. A twitch of my fingers drags one plate of yellow lemon bars and chocolates over, along with a glass of Apocalypse Ale. The group starts making orders for their food, and for a time, there�s silence.

Anayton, rolling a rainbow slime across her fingers and letting her skin absorb the poison, says softly, �So they were not perfect. And you think you can change that?�

�I intend to start.� I tap the table. �The rest, that�s up to you. We�re going to start by pushing the limits of the rules.� I see them stir, and I wave at them. �Relax. I checked. It�s fine.� I don�t tell them how I checked, or about the pounding headache created by reaching backward and prodding at the Quest. �We can talk. Offer suggestions. Recommendations. Training. But you can�t fight in teams with one another. Just as the Quest says.�

There are a few relieved looks, Freif seeming to stabilize a little. Magine is still eyeing me in that too-still manner he has. He�s got the smallest pile of snacks before him, as if he�s unhappy with the selection. Or uninterested in such talk.

�The rest of it? I�m just an interloper. Making do with what I can. But if you don�t want your Empire to be stuck in this same situation in a few thousand, a few hundred years, I�d start thinking, and thinking hard, about what needs to change.�

***

The actual process of the debrief was routine. The initiates informed me of their various activities, the monsters they�d met�and killed�the Earth-based teams they�d worked with or avoided. More of the last than the first, though Kino seemed to have integrated better than the others. In short order, I berate them, pointing to Kino�s continued success at integrating and developing his contacts, including finding out about the monster he needed to attack.

�The Guilds might not be as prominent in Erethra, but they�ve grown very important on a Dungeon World like Earth,� I say. �You need to make friends, work with them. Just because you�re supposed to fight the final boss alone doesn�t mean you can�t simplify your way there. Most of them live in treacherous, dangerous locations. Use the resources available, use the environment available. That�s the only way you�re going to win.�

�Is that how you did it?� Freif asks.

�For the most part. I sometimes ran away, sometimes got the monsters to fight one another. Other times, I trapped them, injured them, slowly bled them out. Piled on damage inches at a time until they couldn�t handle it any further.� I shake my head, remembering. �Sometimes, rarely, I did what you guys were going to do. I faced them straight-on without concern for my life. I fought them to a standstill and I won. In other words, I was an idiot.�

That last sentence brings a round of laughter, but I continue. �Sometimes, being an idiot is all the choice you have. Sometimes there isn�t a better option. But let�s at least try for something more than the depths of idiocy, shall we?�

I work with them, helping them figure out some initial plans, some goals of what they can and should do. And then we set up the next meeting. They disperse soon afterward, chatting among themselves, a slowly developing team. As I stand up after they�ve left, Anayton pops her head back in.

�I do have a message for you,� Anayton says. �From a Lana?�

I gesture her in, frowning at the question mark in her statement. �What�s with the hesitation?�

�A woman�s intuition. That you might not want to hear it,� Anayton says.

I glare at the initiate before gesturing for her to hurry up and speak. When she�s done, I find myself shaking my head. It�s nice of Lana to send the message, to let me know of how things are going. It�s kind and thoughtful, just like the woman. I sigh, loudly and deeply.

�That bad?�

�No. Not really.� I consider for a second, then flick my hand sideways. Pictures, a slew of them. Little children�Lana�s own eldest and a slew of older kids, nieces and nephews, all playing with a triplicate of babies. �Just a reminder of what could have been.�

�Oh�� Anayton looks at the pictures, letting her gaze roam over the laughing children. There�s a bit of longing in her voice, squashed soon after. �They�re quite cute. Strong. Though this red hair. Is it a mutation? It seems to be a quite prevalent one. Over half of these children have it. �

�You could say that. Harmless, for the most part,� I say. �And you? Do you have any regrets?�

Anayton looks surprised. She hesitates a second and glances at the photos again. In the end, she shrugs. �I�ve had opportunities. But nothing ever felt right. Being in the Honor Guard, being a Paladin, that�s what I want to do. Serving the Empire, doing the best I can. And children��

�Children get in the way,� I say.

She nods, looking a little uncomfortable with that though. �I should get going. The others are already browsing the Shop. You said we didn�t have that long?�

�Forty-five more minutes. That�s what I�ve bought for you,� I say.

The guest passes will run out soon, though Foxy might decide later to extend a permanent invitation. If they survive. After all, Paladin Master Classes are rather rare. I watch as she scurries out, ready to go shopping, curious to see kind of things there might be.

Leaving me alone. With pictures of redheaded children and memories of what could have been.

***

�You�re quiet tonight,� Catrin says, leaning against the table.

We�re at another restaurant, another mildly expensive indulgence. Now that I�m grinding Levels again, I�ve decided to put most of these meals on my personal tab. All things considered, the cost is insignificant. Not when compared to the amounts I�m earning from the dungeons every day. One of the advantages of the Altered Space Skill is being able to drag along expensive corpses when they�re left behind. And, at worst, extra loot.

This restaurant is a variation on a deep sea vessel, one used to explore the world beneath the oceans. Sloping ceilings, braced metal plating, projected imagines of creatures in the deep approaching our �windows.� They swim from the inky blackness, highlighted by floodlights, to stare at us as we eat before they swim away again. Occasionally, the entire room shakes as a particularly large and enthusiastic projection prods the �ship.� It�s highly thematic and immersive, going well with the seafood menu.

The food itself is delivered to us on polished coral, seashells, and giant mollusk platings. The restaurant has even gone so far as to hire semi-aquatic waiters, who move toward us with gills and flippers flaring as they serve.

�The meal not to your liking?� Catrin mouths the words, not wanting to start rumors. Considerate of the restaurant.

She enjoys coming to these restaurants, letting her presence be known. It�s a chance to see old friends, to glad-hand nobles and businessmen, establish connections. And potential relationships, later. For her, it�s work and enjoyment.

I admit, her running commentary on those we see has added to my understanding of Erethran society, of how it works. And those who control it at the highest levels.

�Nothing like that. Just thinking.� I shake my head, then fix her with a gaze. �Past regrets. You know the kind, don�t you?�

�Dresses not bought, shoes not purchased, a limited line of grenades passed by?� Catrin chuckles lightly. �Oh yes, I have many.�

�I was thinking more paths not taken. Choices not made. Because we couldn�t, we wouldn�t, let things go. The things we gave up in pursuit of duty. Or our dreams.�

Catrin grows serious, eyeing me. She sees how I speak, what I�ve revealed, and she matches my somber mood. The truth I�ve alluded to. �Yes. To all that. Too many dreams given up in pursuit of duty, of what has to be done. Rather than what I would want.�

�You could change. Make a new path. You�re still young,� I offer, seeing the regret in her eyes.

She laughs, but this one is not filled with mirth but a tinge of bitterness. �Sometimes the choices we make, they are permanent. Because others won�t let you change. Sometimes we find what we�re good at, and it might not be what we�d want to do, to be. But it is what is necessary.�

I stare at her, seeing the truths in her eyes. The strong sense of duty, the refusal to bend, even when she probably should. And once more, I turn on Society�s Web. I see the threads that lead between her and those she�s known, between her and those she serves. And for once, I see how the thread wraps her close, holds her tightly in her place. Sometimes the threads we bind ourselves with are all the stronger because they were our choice.

I see the hidden pain, the way she struggles, in her own way. And I squeeze her hand. Because I don�t have an answer.

We eat, and there�s a more somber silence for a while.

We finish another two dishes before she places her utensils down. �I�m done. Shall we just go?�

I acknowledge her request and lead her out. It�s only a minor effort to send a notification and payment to the waiter, making sure they know it�s nothing to do with them.

When we are outside, waiting for the shuttle car, she speaks again. �You know, you could change too. Pick a new path.�

I laugh and pull her close as the air shuttle drops, blasting air around it, catching at her skirts. It throws her hair around, bringing a whiff of her perfume, of that hint of nutmeg that is hers, and the burnt ozone smell of electric use. I hold her tightly till the doors slide open and I usher her in.

Memory, too much memory, pulls at me. Threatening to sweep me away, threatening to drown me in a whirlpool of regret and sacrifice. My memories of a red-headed man, fallen and lying bleeding, his sister holding him tight in dark caves, illuminated by the glow of steady, yellow Mana lights. Another of a woman with sun-kissed skin, a friend, a sword driven through her body on white-steel decks. A failure, when I should have acted. When I could have�

And memories not my own. Of experiments. Of screaming men, women, and Yerrick. Mana stripping the very flesh and bones as Classes are removed. Of a Heroic, the Hakarta�s limbs removed, trying to grow them back and failing. His body, his System, failing as the ship records his destruction as it leaves System space. Until, eventually, the Mana levels fall too far and the recordings stop. Decades later.

Atrocities and losses. Questions answered.

And still, one question left.

I get in, never answering her. Because some paths, some questions need an answer, an ending. Or all else that came before would be wasted.

***

They come for me again when I Portal in the next day. Not in single numbers. Not even in small groups. But as a horde. I almost conjure my weapon, staring at the group awaiting my arrival. And I can�t help but curse, because the law forces me to use only specific locations. Unless there�s a need. I could have broken the law, done what I wanted. But I was trying to be polite. Must be the old Canadian in me.

�I�m sorry, Paladin, they were insistent on waiting for you.� The captain of the guard is, at least, brave enough to speak with me directly.

I step off the teleportation platform, getting out of the way. Staring at the hungry masses of servants and minor nobles, all of them baring invitations. Some, I�m sure, are just here to curry favor. Others want to progress the campaign of their chosen leader.

It seems, along with the attack by the assassins, other social norms, including the quiet dismissal of my presence, have faded away. Now, they�re all bent on making their cases. All bent on making sure I know what is best, truly best, for the Empire.

�Saimon.� I make the call, bugging the man directly.

Saimon answers my call almost immediately, making me smile. I do like competent minions. �Lord Braxton is on his way, Paladin. Just wait a few minutes. He will handle this.�

A couple minutes later, Lord Braxton appears, fading in next to me from the teleportation platform. He takes one look at the group, grunts, and turns to the people he brought along. �You may begin.�

To the increasingly frazzled Captain of the Guard�s relief, Lord Braxton puts the minor horde of functionaries into order within minutes, each of them providing business cards, contact information, and details. A brief conversation with Braxton confirms that I�ll have to meet with them, but for now, I can grind in peace.

He only asks that I inform him when I intend to exit the Dungeon. I admit, I hesitate at that, realizing how much of a potential opening that might offer. But then, staring at the crowd, I realize I�m much more of target as I am. Some changes to my routine will have to be made.

Chapter 24

�Paladin! I�m sorry for the late introduction. No one told me you were coming!� The manager hurries up to me, wringing his hands.

I stare at him, then dismiss him from notice. Instead, I turn back to the factory floor beneath my feet, where the Artisans are hard at work. Lines and lines of them, each of them at their own workstation, attaching, building, creating drones. Putting together the expendable equipment for war that drives the Erethrans onward.

Dirty gray-steel robots move between stations, picking up finished drones, marking them off, and moving to the next, delivering the finished work for inspection. A few inspectors check over the work, scanning the Status of each item before they�re packed away in appropriate bins.

In the meantime, the Artisans work unceasingly. Garnering small amounts of XP as they grind away at their job. Small amounts�for the lack of innovation, the lack of development�means that most Classes get nearly nothing from this process. Just Credits, paid by the factory owners.

It�s why there�s such uniformity between Levels for those below. Why so many peak and hold steady, whether they�re twenty-year-olds or seventy-year-old Artisans. The only real continuity among those below is the diversity of races and the lack of Levels. Even clothing�or lack of it�is different except for the lack of enchanted material. There�s no need for uniforms, and dress styles are wide and varied. Fashion�on a Galactic scale�is so varied, and yet, can often be local.

�Paladin?� the manager calls again, hesitantly. �Is there anything I can do for you?�

�Tell me about the factory,� I say.

This is the fourth such location I�ve visited in the last three days, popping in in between my grinds, when it�s unexpected or when I�m done. Unsurprisingly, these factories work all hours. Churning out drones, ammunition, even repurposing monster parts.

�Ah, well, we make the d�Ius line of sentry drones here. They range from the Mark IV to Mark VII prototypes. Once made, we classify the results��a wave of his hand encompasses the QA trio��pack, and ship them. All those below are independent contractors. They purchase the rights to use the respective blueprints, then manufacture them to the best of their ability. Completed works are then paid to them, direct via the System.�

�Interesting system,� I say non-commitally.

�It certainly is. Ever since we�ve instituted the commission rate system, we�ve seen a tripling of our output,� the Manager says proudly.

I grunt, staring down below. What he doesn�t say, what Harry found out when Spuryan�s people sent us the note, was they�d also managed to keep their payroll cost from ballooning by reducing payouts. The people below are producing more, for less pay. Unfortunately, Credit loans for the purchase of the blueprints lock the workers in, forcing them to work themselves to the bone. Worse, when someone does manage to Level up and thus increase their production levels, they�re often convinced to try their hand at another blueprint in another factory. Of course, there�s more chance of Leveling with a new blueprint, but it also means they�re locked in again.

It�s a vicious little circle, and one of the ongoing trends in industrial production among the Erethran capitalists. The Generals don�t complain�they get cheaper equipment to use. The Adventurers are happy, because their loot drops sell for more. And the merchants and nobles, they laugh at their Credit balances.

It�s just the Artisans, caught in the middle and exploited, who have issues. And no one, at least not yet, is talking for them.

�How many d�Ius factories are there?�

�In this sector?� The manager appears to mentally count. �Eleven of this size. Another two larger. And another forty subsidiaries.�

�And you�ve implemented this in all the factories?�

�Yes, Paladin.�

I don�t bother asking further questions, opening a Portal and walking through it. This one takes me to the nearest planetary teleportation point. I�m done with the dungeon on this world. So it�s time to move on.

***

�Paladin, thank you. If you hadn�t arrived��

�No thanks needed. It was the right thing to do.� I offer a smile to General d�HaBarn, letting my gaze flick across to the battle plot next to him. �I�m surprised though, that you got caught out like that.�

�It�s rare that planetary invasions are done before the space battles are complete,� the General admits, shaking his head. �I never expected the Uswain to be so bold. Or that they�d let their Lesasson come.�

I grunt. That had been a painful beating. If I hadn�t been able to get Mikito and Bolo to come with me, fighting off the equivalent of a mini-Heroic Champion of the Uswain Confederacy would have been� impossible. It�d taken all three of us, pounding away at him, and the four Master Classers on the planet to make him run. If we hadn�t managed to displace the majority of the fight out of the city and over what used to be the local newbie hunting ground, the damage would have been a lot more extensive.

�Why did they?� I say, frowning. �Harry tells me that they�ve never let him leave his Empire before.�

�Ah� well, what can one say? The Uswain are difficult to understand,� d�HaBarn says, waving in dismissal.

�I�d think you�d want to understand your enemy,� I say, letting my voice cool.

�Bah. Crezar are too animalistic to really understand,� d�HaBarn sniffs.

�Really.� My voice grows flatter as I stare at the General. Information from Ali, from Harry scrolls up at a thought. I�d set the reporter on it the moment we learnt of the attack. And what he managed to dig up�from tapping into non-Erethran news sources�was enlightening. �So you really have no idea why the Lesasson might show up?�

�I don�t try to understand the thoughts of such enemies,� d�HaBarn repeats.

�Fair enough. I�ll be sure to let Brerdain know,� I say.

�Let him know what?� d�HaBarn�s voice goes higher.

I smile grimly. �About your lack of imagination. Understanding that attacking the Crezar Creche and �accidentally� killing a generation of their pups seems like a simple conclusion to draw. Even for a non-military man like me.� I lean forward, glaring at d�HaBarn. �I expect the Chief will have his own words on the matter.�

To my surprise, d�HaBarn relaxes a little. My eyes narrow, and a quick query to Ali brings up the information. And the respective family trees. A quick check with Society�s Web confirms my feeling and I internally debate the matter.

Throw him out of the airlock and leave the fleet without a commanding officer? Weakening this sector of space? Or let him pull the strings he thinks he can pull to keep his position? I�m reminded, once more, that the army he controls holds loyalty to him, not Brerdain or the Queen.

�We all have much to do, Paladin. In lodging our respective reports,� d�HaBarn says, his voice cool too. �If you don�t mind��

�Yeah, I get it.� I walk to the exit of the command deck. Already, I�m composing a message to Brerdain and the Minister of War.

Let�s see how they handle this. And if not� well. I can always space d�HaBarn later.

Or let one of the other Paladins do it.

***

My fist hammers into the prison, and it cracks. Seconds later, the prison reforms. I growl, kicking at the prison again, watching it reform and feeling a little of the shock from my attack rebound. I can feel the prison of light and Mana they used moving, the assassins taking me to another location.

Smart. They couldn�t kill me, not here. Not in the middle of the city. But move me to a different location? Maybe torture, mind-smash me into submission while getting their person in play? That�s doable. Especially since a half dozen Mages are forming this ritual prison.

I could try breaking it with Army of One. But the secondary rebound effect on the prison would kill me if I failed to break through. I can�t help but wonder if the cracks I see are there on purpose, to make me overconfident.

�Ah hell. Let�s try this�� I mutter and pull out a grenade.

Not a Chaos Grenade. I�m not that desperate yet. Just a Ghostlight Mana Dispersal grenade. Four dropped at my feet, and three minutes later, it�s sufficient to make the poor prison falter, the Mages who�ve been holding it aloft drained and unable to continue feeding the prison Mana.

Cleanup after that is simple. I even leave most of it to the local police force�after beating the Mages to the ground and locking away their escape methods. Idiot Mage team seemed to have forgotten to bring non-Mana based backup.

Afterward, while I watch them get carted away, Lord Braxton makes an appearance. The Houndmaster is looking a little harried, and that�s no surprise. This is, like, the tenth or eleventh attack I�ve had to deal with. Not counting whatever my guard personnel have stopped.

�Paladin, you need to tell us where you�re going beforehand!� Braxton complains. �At the least we can alert local constablury.�

�And let my enemies know what I plan to do?� I shake my head. �No thanks.�

�Do you think what you�re doing is working?� Braxton gestures around. �You�re only heading off the least prepared. A good Path Analysis later, they know where you�re going.�

�So why aren�t you doing that?� I say, cocking an eyebrow at Braxton.

�We are!� Braxton snaps. �But we�re on your side. There�s no reason for us to be wasting Credits and time, guessing at what you�re going to do.�

I pause, considering if I should point out that this is more an Empire problem than mine. �Oh come on, this is at least giving the new staff a good workout, right?�

I nod toward the group of Administrators, Public Interfaces, and Investigators who are talking to the local police force. There�s even a growing argument between the Investigators and the force on the disposition of the prisoners.

�Any idea who hired these guys?� I ask my now routine question.

To my surprise, Braxton has an actual answer this time. �We do. We lucked out this time. The second-last cut-out was someone already under investigation, so we had a tap on him. Your Title came up under a routine search when you called it in.� Braxton shakes his head. �We�re still refining the automatic AI searches on the data. It doesn�t help that you�ve got so many Titles.�

I snort, but can sort of understand it. When there are a million ways to describe me, setting up an automatic search on general data trawled through the million and one information sources they have must be a pain. �So?�

�So what?�

�Who is it?�

�Oh, Lord d�Frami. Minor house noble. He�s the second cousin of Lord��

�K�was.� I sigh. �And they still think that idiot has a chance?�

�Not with you talking about it publicly,� Braxton growls.

I shrug unrepentantly. �I wouldn�t trust him to find the throne with a GPS, a seeing eye dog, a Boy Scout, Delta Force Rangers, and the System all aiding him. Never mind rule anything more complicated than a Lego playhouse.�

Braxton shakes his head. �If you�re trying to confuse me, you can stop. Your Spirit introduced me to a proper culture pack download. I now even know of M.A.S.H.�

I shoot a look over to where Ali is busy watching the growing argument between our men and the police force, a bucket of popcorn in hand. The Spirit�s sense of humor can get arcane at times. M.A.S.H. is a little before my time, but I decide not to pop Braxton�s bubble.

�So. You got a good scent for d�Frami?� I say. �Able to track him down?�

�We�ll catch him, don�t worry about that,� Braxton says, shaking his head. �I just hope you Level soon. This is getting��

�Interesting.� I grin, waving goodbye to Braxton as I open up the Portal.

My surprise visit to the nearest healing shop, where Spuryan had fed me some more information, is scuppered. So I move on to plan I.

Or is it J?

***

The gas giant beneath me reminds me of Jupiter, both in coloration and size. Giant, swirling brown clouds pass beneath my feet as the ship continues its routine patrol. I�m crouched next to the nervous recruit, hooked onto the open strut and feeling the barest tug of increasing velocity as the ship continues to gain thrust.

�So this is routine maintenance?� I say.

�Yes, Paladin,� the recruit says, nervousness evident in every word. He�s got a welding torch in one hand, a fistful of crafted metal-horn hybrid wire in the other. I see the overlaid glyphs his helmet is displaying on the strut, where he�s carefully attaching the wire in exacting detail. �We have to replace the glyphs every month. But with the size of the K�trum, Paladin, it�s��

�I get it. Neverending work. And not enough of you guys, right? There�s always more than enough people with guns, but people with actual skills��

The private looks up and shyly offers me a nod. It�s a shared smile, as if I get it. And I do, in a sense.

Random Recruit Whose Name You�ve Already Forgotten (Erethran Space Cadet Level 17) (B)

HP: 130/130

MP: 210/210

Conditions: Mana Sense

�Seriously, Ali?�

�You�re telling me you remembered it?�

�That�s not the point!�

�So they put you through special training for this, right?� I say, gesturing below.

�Yes, Paladin.� The recruit offers me a proud smile. �We get trained in the basics now, if we have the aptitude. Start specializing with some of our Skill choices. Then as an Advanced Class, we can further specialize. I�m going for Erethran Spatial MagiMechanic.�

I nod. �And until then, you grind this? Get experience for it?�

�Yes, sir. Cadets get experience for following orders and combat, Paladin.�

�Very good. Well, I won�t bother you. I�m sure your Sargent will be on you if you don�t get this done.� I grin and wave goodbye to the kid before opening a Portal to send me back into the hull itself.

There are a few others I want to chat with, to get a feel of their navy. Overall, in contrast to the weirdness of the Generals, the navy is almost entirely of one mind and loyalty. I guess it helps that the navy and their ships get paid for by the Queen. Add in a constant rotation of membership, and while there�s intense loyalty to their immediate Captains, there�s less of the insubordination I noted with the Generals.

As I snap shut the Portal behind me, I muse about their social structure. About the challenges Brerdain and Julierudi face in keeping their people contained, in gaining loyalty otherwise. And, worse, of the deeper corrupt currents at play. Too many damn people have their fingers in too many pies, all of them refusing to extract them.

And somehow, they think a few Paladins can fix it.

I�m not sure whether to be flattered or appalled. But I make sure to compose another cautionary note for my friends on Earth to watch out for my initiates.

***

A few days later, Harry is finally back. I�m still mostly running around by myself, my friends busy with their own activities. Mikito occasionally swings by. More often than not, an attack materializes soon after. It�s an uncanny ability, one that she�s loath to explain beyond saying that it�s just a feeling she gets.

I get a feeling too, that it�s both her Skill and Harry�s quiet influence. Surprisingly, Bolo rarely shows up, busy with his own activities. I�m almost annoyed by his abandonment. But the vast majority of the attacks are less than effective. The only few times it matters, he makes an appearance.

It�s hard for assassins to surprise someone when said person spent his formative years in an apocalypse, and then most recently spent the same amount of time doing the same job as the attackers.

It also helps that the majority of the true threats�teams of Master Classers, Heroic level bounty hunters, and the like�are kept at bay by the presence of the Erethran military. Few bounty hunters or assassins are willing to risk angering an entire kingdom.

Finding Harry waiting for me in the dining room is a bit of a surprise. What�s not so surprising is the array of fish and chips before him. I join him, eyeing the multiple plates, each of them with a slightly different golden coloring to the batter and each �fish� piece in different sizes and shapes. Each set of chips is formatted in a different way. All of them are within easy reaching distance, except for a plate of chips that�s been shoved far away. The thinly sliced potato serving isn�t exactly what I�d call chips anyway.

�Harry, what exactly are you doing?� I say.

�New job. I�m being paid by the local culinary circle in the capital to rate their attempts at my national dish,� Harry says, the last words dripping with contempt.

I�m slightly amused a second later as the dark-skinned man spears another crispy golden fish flake and shoves it into his mouth. He chews slowly, eyes narrowing, then writes a note on the pad.

�Huh. I wonder why no one�s asked me to do that for poutine,� I say. Seems like an easy money day, and I get to try a lot of food. Then I spot certain irregularities among the dishes. What should be tender, flaky, and moist white fish flesh is, at times, different. There�s a myriad of colors, a variety of unusual shapes and consistencies hidden beneath the batter. In fact, one of those� �Is that Krishna meat?�

�Yes,� Harry says, sounding annoyed. �It�s not enough that they try to recreate the dish. No, they�ve decided to add a Galactic twist to it.�

I can�t help but chuckle a little at the disgust in Harry�s tone. I take a seat beside him and conjure a set of dining utensils. After all, I can�t let him suffer by himself.

�I do blame you for this, John.� At my raised eyebrow, he points with his fork. �You�ve been dining out, with your lady friend, so much that you started a trend. Of making the human Paladin satisfied.�

A little thoughtful hmmm at his words while I pin down a chip and raise it to my lips. Spicy. Why would you make chips spicy? �Anything else I should know?�

�Assassinations, minor border skirmishes, random poisonings. Any of that sparking any brain cells?� Harry says.

�Yes. I do get the reports from the guards and my security detail. And, of course, from the nobles with Brerdain and Julierudi when they�re trying to get their digs in at one another. But I get the feeling you�ve seen something?�

Henry snorts and flicks his fork at me. Luckily, there�s no food on it, which means all I have to worry about is the flood of notifications he sends. News articles, his analysis, additional details that don�t make it to the reports. I get to reading while we gorge on the dishes. He occasionally interrupts me, asking for my feedback.

We pass plates back and forth, along with silent notes on the events. And there are lot of notes. Fish and chips should not be made with vegetables. Firstly, System vegetables are mutated and have a tendency to poison or otherwise drug eaters. Secondly, incidents like the accidental delivery of a container of Master Class monster parts are sparking up border skirmishes between nobles and other smaller planets. Thirdly, fish. It�s in the name.

When we�re done, I can�t help but sigh. �Any luck on finding my attackers?�

�Nothing. And I don�t think we will. Even if there are more attacks, they know what they�re doing,� Harry says. We�re obviously talking of the major players, the ones who have placed, and keep increasing, the price on my head. �These other incidents, they might offer more information, if you�re willing to look into them.�

I shake my head. Even if I could step in and investigate the other assassinations, put a stop to some of these trade�and shooting�wars, it�d only slow down the incidents. It wouldn�t solve the underlying problem. Worst, there�s a danger of overreach, of overplaying my hand. My job isn�t just saving the empire from itself; it�s choosing an Empress Apparent who can fix the increasingly volatile cracks.

Stopping the attacks, stopping the individual players from going too far might be the worst choice I could make. Knowing where each person�Brerdain, Julierudi, Spuryan, or one of the other half dozen contenders�will draw their line in their quest for power is important. Necessary information.

Maybe I�m wrong. Maybe I�m just na�ve, thinking there should be limits. Maybe I�m too human, too basic. After all, I�m just an ex-programmer.

�Keep tracking. Let me know what you find. On all our candidates,� I say to Harry.

�For how long?� Harry asks, fixing my gaze with his own.

I know what he�s asking. The longer we delay, the longer we take, the more deaths there will be. But I don�t dare be wrong either.

�Until I�m sure.�

***

Ayuri finds me in the middle of a dungeon. We�re on a different planet, one I can�t even remember the name of. I�ve spent weeks bouncing around, clearing dungeons, monster swarms, and threats. All in the race to increase my Levels. It�s only the Champion, who can cover the cost and the jumps, who can find me out here. Well, her and a few of the more insane assassins.

We fight together, in silence, for a time. You�d think it�d be a disaster. After all, two Master classes, neither of which have really fought together much, unleashing Skills that tear apart the tiny swarm creatures and dark shadow monsters that prey upon us. It should have been a disaster, by any rational viewpoint. Except both of us are trained combatants, used to fighting with others. And even if I�m not a real Erethran Paladin, many of my tactics, my skills came about from watching and learning from them. So we fit together easier than I would have expected.

It helps that we�re both specced to a higher level of Intelligence. That System addition allows us to anticipate, understand, and grasp the motions of our counterpart. It�s not really futuretelling, just anticipation. Very, very good anticipation.

We tear apart the swarm, the tiny biting insects, each of them barely Level ten. But when they�re the size of your hand and there are literally millions of them, flying in swarms and carnivorous, it can be a problem. The shadow monsters are nearly as bad a problem, since they hide within the shadows of the swarm, attacking when our backs are turned. Thankfully, the System generally designates swarms as a single mass creature and so provide experience for the designated threat Level of the swarm, not individual amounts. Or else this entire dungeon would be a waste of time.

Of course, you also then have to destroy the entire swarm to get the experience. But that�s what area control and area effect spells, along with chained attacks, are useful for. We lob all of those around, everything from gravity mines, which hold and crush monsters to one another, to chain lightning that jumps from monster to monster for miles. And of course, I�ve got the Beacon of the Angels and Ayuri has Ire of the Champion.

When we�re done and the drones are released to chew up the last of the stragglers, Ayuri speaks. �The Queen is getting impatient.�

�I�m trying to gain Levels here. I would think that you�d understand how long that takes.�

�Isn�t raising your Level at an outstanding rate part of your package?� Ayuri says.

I find myself grinning, because she�s right. I do need significantly lower amounts of experience than most Master Classes. Skipping the entire Basic Class gives me that benefit.

�It�s not just about the Levels,� I admit eventually. I look around, reaching out with my senses, checking.

Ayuri senses my caution and raises an eyebrow. �Do you want to talk? In private?�

�Ah, Champion, you�re cute, but I�m seeing someone��

�Not that, you idiot.�

�Well, if you insist�� I waggle my eyebrows at the Champion.

She snorts and gestures, triggering her Skill and enveloping us.

When we pop out, minutes later, she�s glowering at me.

�Look, it�s a thing. Performance issues. But don�t worry, I don�t hold it against you,� I say blithely.

She unleashes a punch, energy wrapped in compressed air.

I skip aside with ease. �Sorry.�

Ayuri turns her head from side to side as if she�s looking for the unseen watchers, even though we both know that if people are watching, we�d never spot them. Not if they were really serious. Buying direct from the System is nothing we can block.

�Will you do it?� I�ve already asked and confirmed once. While we were within the cannibal sphere. There are a lot of things I asked, least among them being information and control over the numerous security feeds to the throne room. But it�s a lot to ask of the Champion.

�I will. But�� Ayuri falls silent, realizing no more can be said. Not out here. �You better be certain.�

�One hundred and ten percent,� I reassure her.

Ayuri nods. A second later, Mayaya has a Portal open, which Ayuri walks toward. I�m assuming they�re using a party chat system similar to ours. Just more advanced.

Before she leaves, she turns back and asks, �You think I�m cute?�

Chapter 25

�Thirty-four.�

�Thirty-eight.�

�Thirty-four. Intercepted attacks don�t count,� Bolo says.

�Ninety-seven,� Harry insists. �They do count, but we�re also including the ones intercepted by regular security personnel.�

�Doesn�t count. It never reached John.� Mikito crosses arms, shaking her head. �Only those attacks that are a serious threat, and that reached the internal security perimeter, should count.�

�Thirty-four. Only the ones he thwarted himself count,� Bolo snaps. �That�s what we said.�

�No, we didn�t,� Harry and Mikito chorus together.

�John!� Harry and Mikito call, at the same time as Bolo says, �Redeemer!�

I groan, glaring at the team. As I turn, I note the pale gray walls, the floating vid projections of past, glorious battles that display on each wall, just below the hanging banners and crests of defeated armies and kingdoms. The waiting room has a few chairs, though most just pop into existence when needed. They�re not the most comfortable of chairs though, since those same projectors are used as secondary shield defenses.

�I�m not getting involved,� I state. �Also, betting on how many times someone was going to try to kill me was in rather bad taste.�

�Bah!� Bolo says. �If we bet that you�d die, that would be bad taste. This, this was just a way to pass the time.�

�The constant attacks weren�t enough for you? Especially that Master Class team?� I find myself rubbing my hip gingerly. Master Class worms are just unfair. It was like Frank Herbert had grabbed his idea of giant worms from the Mana-diffused air of pre-System Earth. Except he missed the fact that they had Classes and Levels. And had a tendency to take on unwinnable bounties. That�s just wrong.

�That was amusing. It was a good team,� Bolo says musingly. �If you hadn�t climbed down your attacker�s stomach, we probably wouldn�t have gotten to you in time.�

I can�t help but shudder, remembering. The pulsing flesh, the slosh of acid that ate at my shields. The remains of its previous meals and the hard rock. Nightmare inducing.

Ali looks interested, mostly because he was banished at the onset of the attack. Leaving me to deal with three Master Classes. Not a fun place to be, not at all.

�We still haven�t found them?� I say to Harry.

We managed to kill the worm. Seems like having me inside, blocking any teleportation, had seriously messed with its Statsis Block Penetration Skills. The three worms hadn�t even realized it was a problem till Bolo, Mikito, and Ayuri made it to me and the battle started to turn.

Unfortunately, the other two worms escaped. And considering I only got a portion of the worm�s experience, and from what we�ve learned of his Class and race, his �death� was somewhat truncated. It hurt my head�literally�to think about it.

�No. Ayuri assures me they�re out of the Empire though,� Harry says. �I verified they turned in the bounty as a failure, so I�d agree with her assessment. They�ve even got a counter bounty placed on them by the Empire. Though� it�s not a lot.�

I shake my head again, deciding not to touch that last comment with a ten-foot pole. More politics. We�ve been stuck in the waiting room for the last hour, waiting for the Queen to find time to see us. You�d think, after nearly four months of grinding, attacks, and repeated questioning, she�d be excited to see me. Especially since I finally reported I was ready.

John Lee,

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,�

(Paladin of Erethra level 41)

HP: 4870/4870

MP: 4380/4380

Of course, that�s a lie. My actual Level at this time is 45, but they don�t need to know that. And altering that single line in my Status via the ring is easier and safer than playing with everything else. I wanted to gain more Levels, but time and tide waits for no Paladin.

Still, the new Levels are great. It made surviving those attacks a lot easier. But, just as much, I�m kind of proud of my new Skills. I spent nearly everything I had, since I now publicly have access to the final tier of the Paladin Skill tree.

Figuring out what I wanted to add was interesting. On the last tier, I�d had four options. Judgment of All, Immovable Object/Unstoppable Force, Shackles of Eternity, and Domain. I couldn�t get Domain without purchasing Shackles, but since I had to get Shackles for the Erethrans, it�d been a possible option to focus upon.

Truth be told, I would never have picked up the Shackles of Eternity if I wasn�t forced to. Just by its name, I didn�t really like it. Then again, I�ve never been into the entire slave thing. Kill someone when you need to. But leaving them enslaved? It�s� wrong.

Shackles of Eternity (Level 1)

A Paladin�s job is not just to see, but it is to judge and enforce the judgment. The Shackles of Eternity provide a Paladin another method of enforcing his judgments. Once used, the Shackles bind an individual, forcing them to abide by the Paladin�s decree. Activation of the Shackles will leave a brand, a visible Mark, and will deal punishment immediately and on an ongoing basis when the decree is violated. All law enforcement personnel, of whatever Class or society, will be able to see broken Shackles on an individual.

Effect: Shackles of Eternity are gaeas that an individual must follow. The restriction will warn an individual when they�re close to breaching, and upon breach, will layer a number of effects upon them.

Effect 1: A permanent, and highly visible, nark will appear to all law enforcement individuals, whether by Title, Class, or System designation. They will be able to access data at no cost on the broken Shackles, including breakage reason and the original Shackles� use. This can lead to a loss of Reputation and other effects.

Effect 2: Shackle breakers will receive a (Skill level multiplied by half Mana costs) amount of damage upon breach of decree. This is Mana damage and may only be mitigated by Mana resistance.

Effect 3: Broken Shackles deal ongoing (Skill level multiplied by 1/10^th^ Mana cost) damage per minute to the Shackle breaker. This damage is Mana damage and may only be mitigated by Mana resistance.

Cost: Variable depending on Shackle requirements (channeled)

The Shackles of Eternity is a very strange skill. I wish I could�ve played with it more, but other than using it on a few semi-sapient monsters, I�ve left the testing alone. For one thing, there�s no way to dismiss a Shackle. Using it on an intelligent creature for that reason is a no-go. Not without a very, very good reason.

In addition, unlike most Skills, this one requires a significant amount of startup time. Depending on what I�m trying to do, I have to hit a certain minimum threshold of channeled Mana before the Skill will trigger. Only after I add that minimum amount can I release the Skill. Before that, it locks me in place, leaving me intensely vulnerable. Furthermore, even the lowest level use of the Shackles requires a thousand points of Mana. Higher, more elaborate conditions, require even more.

All that means that it isn�t the kind of Skill you use in battle. Digging into the Paladins� archives made me realize it isn�t even a Skill that was taken by most Paladins. Especially in the later periods, when dealing with the enemies in the more immediate, violent manner was favored. When required, they�d just dragged people before a Paladin that had specced the Skill and left them to it.

I do understand why the Queen wants me to have it though. Or, more correctly, I have a pretty damn good idea. Especially after reading their histories.

All that said, it�d left me with three other Skills to choose from. Judgment of All was the simplest. Like Army of One, it was a pure combat Skill. It was, in a way, similar to the Champion�s skill, using the combined strength of many to power the attack. It could be extremely strong but had one major weakness. It required you to be part of a strong, unified community.

The reliance on that Skill was also part of the downfall of the Paladins in the last fight. After all, they lost the faith of many, so the Skill they�d come to rely upon had decreased in effectiveness. Even so, a single planet�s worth of trust can be quite damaging. As my mentor had showcased.

On the other hand, Immovable Object/Unstoppable Force was a weird dual-use Skill. Upon activation, the Paladin had to select between the two. The choice would provide a boost to himself and to anyone within his aura range.

Immovable Object increased Constitution, health, and passive damage resistance by a significant number. It also negated all knockback effects on the Paladin. Basically, it made him the ultimate tank. Unstoppable Force, on the other hand, increased movement speed, Agility, calculated momentum, and damage done by the same percentage. Unfortunately, it had a major negative in that the moment the Paladin stopped moving, the Unstoppable Force buff would automatically turn off. On the other hand, it also gave a smaller buff to everyone within aura range.

As for Domain? That one was kind of messy. Domain allowed the Paladin to alter reality within the range of his aura. Enemies entering his Domain would receive a debuff to all attribute and Mana cost and a damage-over-time effect. Allies received a heal-over-time effect and a buff to all attributes and Mana cost. At the same time, the Paladin received a minor boost to health, Mana regeneration, resistances, and speed, while reducing damage done to them that passed through the domain. It was an all-encompassing Skill, but each of its individual effects were lower than any of the individual Skills it drew upon.

For that reason, and others, I�d had the hardest time allocating my remaining Skill points. It wasn�t as if I could get another evolved Skill, so for my choice, I had to decide which of the three would suit my fighting style best.

My musings over whether I�d chosen right was interrupted by the entrance of the major domo. He looked at my group with a sneer before he waved us in. I idly considered using Shackles on him to stop him from sneering ever again, then kicked myself.

Really. Ultimate power can so easily make one evil�

***

The throne room is similar to before, but this time around, it�s filled with courtiers. One group is streaming out, their leaders having a hangdog expression. But the subtle smirk on another�s face, as he trudges beside and behind the group, indicates not all of them are as unhappy as you�d think. There�s probably something in all that byplay, considering the entire group is supposed to be together. I can see how having a Paladin with Society�s Web stationed here could pick up a number of interesting missions.

For that matter, I wonder what kind of Skills the Queen has, her and her personnel. Society�s Web might be somewhat different in how it displays information, but it isn�t a unique Skill at its base. I vaguely recall that Catrin has a Skill that allows her to process social information in an entirely different manner. Not as useful for meeting random strangers, but more robust and detailed in the information provided in a known social setting.

My team troops in, taking our place in front of the Queen as she finishes speaking with one of her retinue. Subtle cues send out various courtiers and others stream in, joining the group behind me. The man the Queen is talking to steps back, offering her a nod, and I�m only slightly surprised to see that it�s Saimon. He is, after all, the Exchequer of her Purse. Or something like that.

More surprisingly, what I don�t see is the Champion or any of her team. There are, of course, a few Honor Guards around, standing at the sides of the throne room and keeping watch. Even more are hovering midair, near the walls. Today, the room itself is muted, the moving images and projected banners reduced so that everything, all our attention, is focused on the woman seated on her throne. And even without the help of her Aura, she definitely has everyone�s attention.

�Tell me, Paladin, how are my initiates?� the Queen asks once we are done with the formal greetings.

I idly watch as Harry scurries to the side, moving to join the group of reporters near the base of her throne. He�s gotten special permission�after some insistence on my end�to record what�s happening today.

�Well enough. No one has died, but they�re a bit slow,� I say.

Four months in, and they�re all only two monsters in at most. There have been some close calls, especially when Magine decided to charge in and be an idiot to showcase how tough he is. On the other hand, his example drew the team even closer together as they seriously got into sharing information. The fact that he lost half of his team members in that attack just to save his ass had been sobering.

�And when do you expect that I will receive my new Paladins?�

�That, I believe, is up to them. But at this rate, probably another six months.� I meet her disapproving gaze, knowing she wanted them out faster. Especially since my life has been put in danger recently and even the initiates have had a few close calls.

The assassins going after the initiates were less worrisome, mostly because they were lower Level. Those few who did try were often in for a rude awakening as Rob�s many, many safeguards against random assassinations had been extended to the initiates. After Earth�s own experience, there�d been a significant investment�completely out of proportion to our GDP�in anti-assassin measures.

Harry and Saimon have struggled to find additional information on our attackers. Even with the System, there�s a certain level of expense required to cut through things. You can�t just ask the System �give me the attacker�s employers.� You have to know the right questions to ask, which could mean multiple questions, each costing Credits.

Worse, my Society�s Web can only connect direct relationships when I�m watching the person. When you�ve got suspects who are highly connected, just because of their roles or their places in society, finding the correct thread to pull upon is difficult. Even if we managed to capture the attackers, the threads often led to dead drops, cut-outs who had no clue why they were doing what they were doing, and other System subterfuge.

Could I find the people behind all of our attacks? Probably. Given enough time, given enough motivation, I could track each thread, each individual. Override the Credit requirements, pay it all out from our budget. Problem is, we don�t have time. And so while the investigators are hard at work, I�ve kept Leveling.

�Very well.� The Queen stares at me, then frowns. �Only a single Skill Level? Is that sufficient?�

I grimace, wondering how she knew. And what else she can see. But then, I flash her a smile. �That depends on what you think I need it for.�

�I might have given the impression of being a kind and forgiving ruler, but I would not test my patience, Paladin.� The Queen leans forward, fixing me with a glare. Portions of her aura leak out, making Harry and the reporters stagger, and even Mikito winces.

�Stop talking back at the angry woman,� Harry sends over the party chat.

I straighten a little, push against her aura, and feel it ripple backward. �It�s not enough. Not for what we need. If you want me to shackle the other competitors, I�m going to need more. I need access to the Crown�s Purse to increase this Skill. It seems my budget is still blocked.� I look to the side, fixing on Saimon, who just shrugs.

The Queen doesn�t even blink when I think the middle sentence rather than say it. Instead, she gestures, and Saimon steps forward. He focuses on me, and a second later, an access window blooms. Surprisingly, it�s a direct access to the Shop. I take a deep breath, place my hands by my sides and clench them, and purchase the Shackles of Eternity Skill twice more. That should be enough. Especially considering how much I expect the basic use will cost in terms of Mana. When I�m done, as information stops flowing into my brain, as the Skill finishes its download, a light sweat has broken out. I look at the Queen and give her a single nod.

�Then let us finish this. Bring them,� she says.

The words create a ripple through the courtiers as they stir with excitement. Gratitude that they�ve been allowed to see something so momentous. As I get ready to do what I was brought all the way here for, I can�t help but smile grimly.

Time to make a choice.

***

I�m not surprised that they managed to find Brerdain and Julierudi. They both have quite public jobs. The same can be said for the half dozen other, minor contenders who are led out. At one point or another, I�ve met with them all, spoken with them, pressed the flesh and been left with an impression. None of those impressions have been particularly vivid though. There�s a reason they�re considered minor contenders.

I�m surprised to see Spuryan here, as well as some other, less reputable individuals. Some are known for their opposition to the government or to specific policies of the government. Others are crime lords, semi-independent Guild leaders or corporate Managers, individuals who exist on the gray edges of Erethran society and law.

Guess the Queen has decided that everyone and anyone needs the Shackles. Which, come to think about it, makes sense.

�Huh. She�s got all seven of the Polygon here,� Bolo comments on the party chat.

I blink, surprised. Not about the Polygon, which is the Erethran equivalent of the most powerful crime lords, but that Bolo knows what they look like. I eye the Dragon Lord again and he flashes me a smile. His time in the kingdom has, obviously, been a little more interesting than mine. I guess, for a Dragon Lord who hung around Spaks for decades, I shouldn�t expect him to be an upstanding citizen. I do wonder what he�s been up to when he isn�t saving my ass though.

At the tail end of the group comes Ayuri and her team, backed up by another dozen or so Honor Guards. I quickly note that no other military personnel are here. At least, no army personnel, no space navy. Just Honor Guards. Those directly sworn to the Empress.

�Defcon 1, children,� I send over the party chat.

There�s no external reaction among my friends, but I know they�ve gone further on alert.

�Thank you, all of you, for coming.� The low-level murmuring by those brought in silences as the Queen�s words echo through the room. It�s like a teacher smacking a ruler on a table among a group of unruly children. �We�re here today to see an end to certain� irregularities� in activities. And to set aside, once and for all, the question of who shall rule after me.�

There are a few gasps, but mostly, the group takes her pronouncement with equanimity. Brerdain is looking confident, and there�s not a shift or twitch in his threads. If anything, the number of threads flowing to him increases, deepens in connections as loyalties shift or harden.

Julierudi sniffs, covering her face for a second, then blows her nose with a handkerchief she makes appear. She sets her hand down a moment later, but I see the change, the way some threads fray away and others deepen in color. My stomach clenches as information continues to flow.

Spuryan looks vaguely hopeful, which is a bit confusing. His threads don�t change at all. He doesn�t even seem particularly surprised. Though I�m surprised to see some of the connections he has in the room. Especially among the Polygon.

�Paladin. Are you ready to take on this task?� the Queen�s voice rings out, interrupting my musings.

I step forward and open my mouth to speak, only to find it dry. I clear my throat a little, then speak up. �Yes. I�ll make the choice of the one most suitable to rule the Empire.�

The moment I finish speaking, I receive a surprise notification.

Empire Quest: Erethran Empire (M)

Designate an individual to become the Presumptive Emperor of Erethra

Reward: +4,353,593 XP

�If they�d told me I�d get that Quest, I wouldn�t have bitched as much,� I send to Ali.

�You know, they can still hear you.�

�Oh, I know.�

The Queen waves, encompassing the throne room and all those within, the moment I take the Quest. �Very well, Paladin. I believe the field is yours.�

I turn on the balls of my feet, staring at the group, and find myself meeting the gazes of a group of apprehensive faces. A part of me hates what I�m going to do. This Skill is wrong. Evil in a way. But I weigh my choices. Leave them to fight it out? Allow an entire Empire to fall because I�m scared to get my hands a little dirty?

Perhaps someone else might choose otherwise, someone with stronger morals. But I lived through an apocalypse. And doing what needs to be done is something I learnt a long time ago.

I grin at the group, hiding my doubts with joyful sadism and a trace of rage. �Don�t worry, boys and girls, no one has to die today.�

***

The Honor Guards help me line them up by order of status. Amusingly, this means they start out with people who have the lowest levels, but not potentially the least amount of political or financial strength. Sometimes, Levels matter. Especially when the insane little human monkey is about to test his new Skill on you.

My first victim is sweating bullets, licking his lips continuously as he�s brought to me. A quick check of his Status gives me his name.

Adirter Fullaway, Scion of the West, Profligate Creditor, Slayer of Goblins (Level 32 Industrialist Heir) (A)

HP: 470/470

MP: 1730/1730

Conditions: System Tip, Industrial Efficiency, Mana Drip

I grin and slap my hand down on his shoulder. �Don�t worry, this won�t hurt a bit.�

�Really?� There�s a flash of relief on his face, and I feel his shoulders relax.

�Definitely. It�s going to hurt a lot.�

When he�s busy trying to back off, to escape from my grip, I tighten it and trigger my Skill.

Shackles of Eternity is weird to use, mentally. First is the usual plethora of Mana formulae that form and flash away, bundles of data that the System uses in a preprogramed fashion that allow me to cast at a fraction of the time I�d need normally.

Then comes the movable parts of the Skill. I have to adjust the portions, the parts of the Shackles I lay on him. I could do this in silence, leaving the poor bastard to wonder, to figure out the Shackles himself, but that doesn�t serve our purpose today.

Also, that increases my Mana cost significantly.

�Adirter Fullaway, I, as a Paladin of Erethra, now Shackle you. From this day to eternity and a day, so long as the System holds, so long as the Mana flows. You will bear faithful allegiance, provide unconditional loyalty, and sincerely serve, in all manners and form, the Empress and the Empress Apparent of Erethra.�

A ritual circle blooms around my feet and my victim�s as I speak. Mana is drawn from the environment, converging on the circle, helping to power it. The Mana flow grows so dense within the circle that wisps of power can be seen by the unaided eye. More Mana�from the System, from my body�floods out, joining and taking hold of the ambient Mana, even as the Skill formula flows around the ritual circle. More and more glyphs of the unknowable, unspeakable System controls appear.

At first, my victim looks puzzled. There is no pain, no effect. He stops struggling, which is a mistake. Not that it�d help. A moment later, chains erupt from the circle. They pierce his body, digging into his flesh. The black chains are covered with spikes at irregular intervals, and they slide through his twitching body, tearing through flesh and muscle, wrapping around his bones. His health drops, but not by much, for these chains are more immaterial than they are physical.

No, the damage it�s doing, that will come later, if he breaks the Shackles. If he defies the warning. That�s when he�ll suffer. For now though, it�s only the pain of the attack he feels.

More and more Mana flows as I pour it in, waiting for when the System deems it sufficient. My eyes widen, realizing that I�m fast reaching the bottom of my Mana pool, and I grit my teeth. We hit the three thousand Mana region and keep climbing, no end in sight. When I finally hit four thousand spent Mana, only then does it finally peter off.

When we�re done, the ritual circle disappears and I release my grip. Adriter staggers away, his clothes bloody and torn, his flesh unmarked. His eyes are wide�he�s fearful of me�and his aides come rushing over, dragging him away before he can say or do something foolish.

I�m ignoring him as I wait for my Mana to regenerate. That took a lot more Mana than I expected. And he�s a low Advanced Level. I expect I�ll pay even more for those with higher Levels. Thankfully, due to the speed of my Mana Regeneration and how slow the actual ritual is�comparatively speaking�I can handle it for the moment. Later on� well. We�ll work it out then.

�I told you he was never a real contender,� Brerdain says to Julierudi. Almost crowing about it.

�Nor are you,� Julierudi says, tilting her head downward to meet the portly man�s eyes.

�Har. We�ll find out very soon.� He turns to me, raises an eyebrow. �Unless you want to inform us now.�

I ignore the byplay, instead conferring with the Honor Guards. A short time later, more guards appear, forming a circle around me.

�Did you not have enough guards already?� Julierudi says. �Are you that afraid of us?�

I snort. �Neither. These are channelers. They�re going to feed me Mana during the ritual. Unfortunately, I�m just not cut out for this.�

My answer settles them because they both can tell how far my Mana dropped. Seeing that requires a cheap Skill and I�m not trying to use my ring to hide the drop.

We stand in silence while my Mana recovers, the crowd slowly relaxing as time ticks on. The Queen, high above, gets back to running the Empire. Talking with her retinue. Holding vid conferences for those she needs to speak with. None of us can hear a damn thing.

Time crawls as, one by one, I drag the courtiers before me and place the Shackles on them all. Some try to leave, try to bargain their way out. They fail. No one tries to fight�not with the Champion, the Queen, and myself right here.

One after another, the Shackles are laid on all the courtiers present. Most don�t look happy about it, about the �honor� of being allowed to watch anymore. I don�t care. I keep at it. A day passes, as we take breaks for my Mana to recuperate, for the pain in my head from using the same Skill and bottoming out my Mana again and again to fade.

I push through as the courtiers slowly get on with their lives. Answering limited calls. Making others. Running their businesses, their noble houses. Their armies and fleets and cults. And news of what is happening leaks out.

In time, the reporters are allowed to broadcast, the information going wide. There are social disturbances, a few hot-headed fools deciding it�s time to raise the banner of revolution or to try to force. But for the most part, it�s pretty quiet. After all, the point of dragging everyone here was to keep it contained.

Eventually, there�s no one else. No one but Spuryan, Julierudi, and Brerdain. The top three contenders. They look at one another, weighing the options. Trying to determine who I�ll take next.

�Spuryan,� I call.

The Prophet�s eyes widen then narrow. One of the guards moves to push him forward, but he starts walking before the hand can more than twitch.

I place a hand on his shoulder, calling up the Skill. There�s no argument, no discussion. I cast the Skill, and it slams through him. Once more, the guards channel Mana into me, flooding me with Mana over and over again. It�s a sweet agony, pushing my control to the brink.

When we�re done, Spuryan staggers back to his position, looking wan, but I still sense he�s somewhat satisfied. I note how Julierudi has her fingers pressed together in a birdlike shape, while Brerdain has his arm up by his ear. Both of them are staring at me as I breathe deeply and center myself. As I slowly enter a meditative trance to discard the pain.

When my eyes open, a second ring of Honor Guards have appeared. Chanelers, all of them. I watch as the pair of final contenders look between them and me. Waiting for my pronouncement. To see who has won.

�Ayuri.� A single word, a single request.

She appears behind the pair of new guards. Before they can move, she triggers her Skill, wrapping all of us in the Sphere of Gramus. Within her Skill, blocked off from reality, only the channelers, the contenders, Mikito, Bolo, Ayuri, and I will know what is said.

And done.

Chapter 26

When we emerge, neither of the two contenders are happy. At least Julierudi is on her feet, while Brerdain is slumped over, held up by a pair of the Honor Guards. Our reappearance raises a bit of a ruckus, as some of the smaller contenders�individuals in power who�d backed Brerdain�try to make a fuss. Some quick use of the backs of hands and the butts of rifles quiets the group down.

�He�s alive,� I tell them all. �He just had a bad reaction to the Shackles.�

I don�t think most of them believe me, but I don�t really care. Some of the other audience members are shooting Julierudi inquisitive looks, as if they think she�d warn them. But she�s not meeting anyone�s eyes, her gaze fixed on the floor.

�Dornalor, bring her in.� I send a message to the pirate captain over the party chat.

We debated for hours beforehand on whether to have the team with him or if he should go alone. In the end, I just have to rely on him, on what he can do. Well, him and some friends.

Dornalor and the initiates come marching through the doors, pushing aside the individuals ahead of them. Making sure the way is clear. In the front is Kino, followed by Freif just behind. Freif�s main gun and the numerous floating duplicates float alongside him, on full display.

That creates a reaction among the Honor Guard, even if they were warned. They grow more alert, a few filtering down to stand just underneath the throne. I feel multiple Honor Guards slap Two are One on the Empress. She only looks up briefly before she turns back to conferring with her advisors.

Behind the pair comes Dornalor, walking beside a cloaked figure. And, right behind, are Anayton and Magine, bringing up the back of the troop. The initiates are wary, entirely on guard. Their presence is a surprise to many, and even Queen Karlelo is frowning when she realizes something and looks back down.

The Queen�s voice rises, crossing the room, followed by a wave of power. It shakes feet, makes knees weak, and men sway as she expresses her displeasure. �Paladin, what are you doing?�

�My job.�

I stride over to the group, ignoring Ayuri, who�s moving toward me, conjuring her weapon as she does. Everything will happen quickly now. Julierudi and Brerdain are still frozen from what we did inside the sphere, but their supporters are realizing that their person isn�t in line to win. Some of them, the most impetuous, move to head off the woman in the cloak. Guns, swords, even spells appear as they grasp at the last few moments of opportunity.

Because not all of them were shackled. I wasn�t about to waste Mana and time on a non-contender, on a bodyguard. More so, even the ones who are shackled are bound to protect the Empress Apparent. But I haven�t declared her yet, and until I do, she�s vulnerable.

Skills trigger, washing over the cloaked figure and burning them even as Honor Guards act. They clamp down on the Mana in the throne room, pushing against the attacks, reducing their effectiveness. Healing spells fly, as well as some people reaching out with Two are One. Other Honor Guards are more direct, weapons targeting, cutting and firing at the attackers.

The Queen is the slowest to make a move, though hers is the last major action. Her aura flares and hammers the attackers. Whether or not she agrees, attacks in her throne room are an insult to her.

Some�the smarter ones�realize their mistake. Too late. Those who were Shackled are torn apart, the chains erupting from their bodies, criss-crossing and squeezing. Blood and viscera spray as they�re ripped apart. Those who weren�t shackled find themselves crushed by her aura, taking damage from the sheer pressure she exerts. Attacks fail to form, defenses crumble. And then the Honor Guard finishes the job.

Meanwhile, Dornalor has moved aside from the attacked figure, leaving it to burn. Some of those Skills used against it were damage-over-time ones. Others were one-off uses. None of it was particularly useful as the melted figure sags and burns before finally disappearing. The Doppleganger Skill turns off, Dornalor releasing the cast. Even from where I am, I can see the wide smirk on the Pirate�s face.

�Baka!� Mikito mutters, staring at the mess made by the courtiers.

So many of them, acting without thinking, torn apart. Cleaning robots appear to deal with the corpses.

I shake my head, having reached Dornalor, and clap him on the shoulder. He steps back, muttering something about payment, before I stride past the smoking portion of floor where the doppelganger used to be. I stop next to Anayton.

�Are you ready?�

Hasbata doesn�t object, not any longer. Ayuri�s a short distance away, weapon in hand, but eying the surroundings, not me. They�re not stopping me because they maybe, just maybe, trust me. To do what is right. To do what a Paladin always has to do.

Put the Empire first.

***

The entire problem with this has always been, and would always be, finding an Emperor or Empress who could survive the job and who could improve the Empire. What�s a new challenge is the state of the Empire.

The Erethran Empire has endured over a century of neglect by the lack of Paladins, by the nobles, and by the Generals wearing away the direct power of the Empress. Corruption is rife. Attacks on each other continue. They�re more concerned about expanding their personal fiefdoms than the Empire. And the Empress has to push, pull, balance out their needs and keep everything held together.

The Generals keep expanding, forcing her, the ruler, to focus her attention on the military. Leaving the domestic to run riot.

And that isn�t enough. Not anymore. No matter what I thought, no matter what was said, the Reluctant Survivors aren�t crazy pacifists. Their recommendations�while somewhat over-the-top or unrealistic in places�have a grounding in reality. The Empire has grown too large. Too unwieldy.

Like Rome, it will eventually fall, as the barbarians at the gates press against the ever-widening borders. Or something like that. I never claimed to be a historian. I just played Total War: Rome.

So we need someone the military trusts, who can see the problems among the domestic world, and who isn�t entrenched in the corruption.

That, by definition, ruled out all three contenders almost immediately. Not that I intended to tell them that, but it was true. My concern was that anyone I chose outside of the contenders wouldn�t be able to do the job of an Empress. They wouldn�t have the personal strength to fight multiple attacks. Nor would they have the Skills required to bolster the already thinly stretched Armed Forces. More concerning was that any major disruption could set the enemies of the Empire rushing in to finish the job.

The first glimmer of a potential solution appeared when initiates were introduced to me.

But now, here we are in the throne room. And before anything can be done, I need to resolve one last issue.

I walk past Anayton, catching a whiff of a familiar nutmeg scent. I note the tension, the slight nervous sweat on all the initiates� faces. Then I turn to the initiate next to the woman.

�We spoke to Brerdain,� I say softly. �He didn�t really want to give you up, but we didn�t give him a lot of choice. He�s loyal, I�ll give him that.�

Magine stills. I wait, before he steps back quickly, sword hilts appearing in his hands. He�s glaring at me.

�I don�t really care if he had one of you suborned. If any of you were suborned,� I raise my voice, letting it ring out to encompass all the initiates. �I figured multiple corrupt individuals would balance each other out eventually. I couldn�t, wouldn�t, keep looking.

�But you killed Ropo and Gheisnan. And that I won�t accept.�

Magine falls into a combat stance, one sword raised and pointed at my face. The other, held low and covering his chest, the lower line of attack. He could stab me from here, but between my Soul Shield and my emergency shielding ring, he can�t kill me. Not in a single attack. So I ignore the blades.

�Why?� I say. �It wasn�t even in your orders.�

That fact, we had confirmed. It was the reason Breisnan was alive, the reason we hadn�t just killed him.

�They didn�t deserve it,� Magine sneers. �That old Grimsar, he never made anything of his life. And then he thought he could be a Paladin? While I�ve worked all my life, struggled, to be something, only to fail because I was born too late.� The Movanna turns his head to the side and spits, even as he continues. �The Pooskeen? I would never serve beside one of those creatures. Disgusting monsters, daring to think they�re equal to me.�

I see his incandescent fury, the burning rage in his eyes, from being overlooked again and again. His towering pride and the blame he set upon everyone else for his failures. For the fact that he never amounted to more than what he thought he was. And in doing so, he turned that anger on others.

His friends, his fellow initiates, back away, giving him and me room. We stare at one another over the edge of his blade. I see the light shimmer of energy that marks the creation of the monofilament edge. Around us, the other guards, the Queen, the Champion, and the courtiers are but bystanders to this little drama.

�Will you fight me? Or will you shoot me down like the honorless creature you are? You pitiful, fortune-favored, stumbling fool. You disgrace every Paladin, every true Erethran who has ever born that title,� Magine spits his words like knives. Hoping to score a blow, to cripple my self-control, to force me to fight him. To win back some honor at this late stage in the game.

It�s a good choice in most cases. Anger, anger has always driven me. But this time, he misses. Because I have no pride, no investment in being a Paladin. The Title is a tool, one that I�ve used and used again, to survive. To drag those with me who survived into the light.

When he fails to make me act, Magine chooses to do so himself. He lunges, his sword aimed straight at my eye. I watch as the blade nears, growing larger with each fraction of a second. Only for it to be deflected by a familiar, burning polearm. A short Samurai steps in front of me.

�Your opponent is me,� Mikito says.

I can�t help but stare at Mikito�s back in amazement. It takes long moments before I can speak. �You actually said that.�

I see just a little bit of her profile, enough to see that she blushes. Magine, for all his talk of honor, takes her blush as a distraction that he can exploit and he lashes out with his small swords.

Unfortunately for him, Mikito�s ready, and she blocks it and the follow-up thrust from his other sword. I back off, and in short order, we create an open space. Shields form, trapping the pair within, allowing them to duel without interference. Even the Queen stops her work to watch. I guess in a society like this, a high-level duel between two arena champions is considered high entertainment.

Weapons clash, Mikito doing her best to keep the fast-moving ex-initiate away, using the extra reach of her weapon and its greater weight to beat him around. He, in turn, uses multiple quick shedding blocks, cutting at the edges of her polearm as she swings, driving it farther off Mikito�s center line by inches each time. Each move, each block, each attack is designed to open a gap between strikes so that he can slip in.

Intermixed among the mundane skills are their Skills. Blade Strikes, Power Blows, Cleave, Haste, they all trigger, giving them surprise attacks, explosions of energy, or even unblockable attacks that slip past blades. Blood blooms, staining both of them, as shields fail, armor gets pierced, and blood rolls to the floor.

A quick flicker of the small swords, barely a foot of movement, and the paired Blade Strikes push Mikito back, forcing her to block them with Hitoshi. The polearm swirls in a quick form, breaking apart the attacks. Seconds later, the ground around Mikito explodes in flames. A preset Skill trap, or potentially a spell, engulfs the Samurai. The damage is significant but not fatal. More dangerous is the fact that the flames block her vision, allowing Magine to trigger a new Skill.

By the time she�s out, three figures, all looking exactly the same, are charging her. You would think that they�re just illusions, and you would be wrong.

The Skill Magine uses actually creates, temporarily, three duplicates. All of them are reduced in strength and health, but not in speed. He can�t use any other active Skills while the duplicates are in use, but that�s not his fighting style. A lot of passives, a lot of damage bonuses to attacks, that�s his way.

Magine rushes Mikito, pouring out quick, blurring attacks that are coordinated between all three duplicates. Against anyone else, that might have been dangerous. It might have been a fight-ender.

But Mikito out Levels him. And she�s finally done playing. She triggers her Skill, and Haste, Blitzed, it all combines. Her movements become a blur, much, much faster than the still-locked Advanced Classer can keep up with.

She tears through one of the figures with a simple rising cut from her front leg, spins the naginata blade around to block a pair of cuts and a lunge, reverses and strikes with the butt of the polearm, then cuts again with the blade. A figure drops, bleeding, missing a limb.

Together, the injured mirror images continue to attack. She cuts and cuts again, bringing an overhand sweep down with such speed and force, it throws a duplicate into a shield, cracking it. Long seconds, then the blurred forms within the shields freeze.

Hitoshi is buried in the chest of Magine�s final body, one hand raised, the held blade trying to push away the polearm. The second sword is deep in Mikito�s thigh. Blood dribbles from both their wounds even as the mirror images disperse, the corpses becoming no more than motes of light.

�You cheated. You used� a Master Class� Skill,� Magine complains as he slowly slides off Mikito�s weapon to land on his bum. He releases the weapons in his hands, letting them clatter to the floor, glaring at Mikito and the unfairness of life. That she dare cheat him.

The Samurai stares at the dying elf, poison and flame burning from the wounds Hitoshi layered on him. His chest rises and falls, fueling the unnatural flame. Mikito waits. She will not explain how her view of honor, of loyalty, works. Not to him. Not to a dying man. Not to a traitor.

He coughs one last time, then falls over. She doesn�t move, keeping a wary eye on the corpse, until one of the Honor Guards comes along and lops off his head. Just to be sure. Only then does she limp over to me, her body glowing with the repeated healing spells the guards are casting.

�Satisfied?� I ask her.

Mikito gives me a short nod.

I can only reply with one simple and appropriate word. �Baka.�

Chapter 27

It doesn�t take the attendants and robots long to clean up from the duel. Even the scarred flooring, damaged by the passage of the fighters, is healed and perfect within minutes. Throughout all this, the courtiers and other guards are watching my initiates, studying them.

�Well, Paladin. If you are done with the theatrics, shall we finish this?� the Queen says.

�Got to agree, boy-o. This is getting quite tiring,� Ali sends as well.

I stride forward, and the team moves out, the initiates and my people coming to stop before the Queen. No more attacks, no other actions are taken. Ayuri only hesitates for a second before letting us approach the Queen, then Blink Stepping to the Queen�s side.

�My apologies, Your Majesty.� I feel a grin pull at my lips. �I have a tendency to be a little bit dramatic at times.�

�At times,� Bolo says incredulously.

It�d be wrong, kicking him.

I turn back to the initiates, to the crowd of courtiers who have approached. Brerdain has recovered and is staring around, somewhat paler but with his regained confidence. I hadn�t blamed him, hadn�t killed him, for his part of putting Magine among my initiates. Truth be told, Julierudi and Spuryan had tried as well. They just weren�t as effective. Or more.

Julierudi is looking a little more confident, a little more certain of herself. My little trick with the doppelg�nger, to draw out the idiots, to lure those who would act without thinking had thrown her at first. But now, with no obvious candidate left, she must consider herself in the lead. Even if she�s Shackled, the wording lets her function � after all, you can�t betray yourself. Especially since I�ve dismissed Spuryan. The Prophet is the only one who looks at peace. I guess losing once and for all can settle you down quite well.

�So, thank you for waiting,� I say. I step toward my initiates. �I�m sure you�d all like to meet your Empress Apparent.�

I turn around and walk back, stopping in front of Anayton. I idly watch as Bolo shifts, glaring at a noble who looks as if they might do something foolish. Mikito is behind the initiates, as is Dornalor. Harry�s the only one who�s moved ahead, facing perpendicular to all of us, just a short distance from the rest of the reporters so that he can capture both the Queen�s reaction and me.

�Do you trust me?� I send, touching upon the comm channel. It�s a tight beam, but it�s not fully secure. It doesn�t have to be.

I stop before Anayton, waiting for my answer. It�s a strange question, especially after they�ve been dragged so far, pulled all the way here to watch.

Silence draws out, and I feel the pressure of their gazes, of their expectation. I can smell her scent, the blend of nutmeg and musk that is all hers. I feel her, see the threads flowing out from her. To touch upon the Queen, to the Lord of the Hounds, to the Guard, and to so, so many of the nobles, the power players behind us.

�Yes.�

�Then let me present her to you.� I raise my hand.

Anayton�s eyes track my hand, watch as it comes down. Not onto her shoulder. Missing it by inches.

To land on empty air.

Only for a short moment, for Dornalor�s and Ali�s twin Skills finally fail.

�Lords and ladies, Generals, Admirals, and soldiers, your new Empress Apparent.�

The susurration of scandal, of shock has already started. Bolo shifts, crackling with power to bring the involuntary steps toward us to a stop. Mikito levels her naginata at Brerdain, who�s looking shocked.

And on the throne� Ali shows me the Queen, her mouth open as she tries to order me to stop. Surprised in her own place of power, surprised at having her Skills locked out. Ayuri�s eyes are wide, realization striking her regarding why I asked for control of the room�s security apparatus. Why I�d asked for it. There�s no ultimate Skill, nothing that can�t be blocked or hidden, given enough information, time, and Credits.

�Catrin Dufoff.�

Congratulations! Empire Quest: Erethran Empire (M) Completed!

Designate an individual to become the Presumptive Emperor of Erethra

Rewarded: +4,353,593 XP

Mana floods into me, as does experience. I shudder, multiple Level Ups appearing and disappearing in a cascade. Another larger notification appears, one that I shelve to the side as chaos erupts around me.

�Redeemer! What is the meaning of this?� Hasbata snarls, leaning forward in her chair.

Her aura snaps out, smashing down on all of us. People stagger. Anyone who isn�t a Master Class sinks to their knees or, worse, drop directly to the floor. Even those with Master Classes stagger, some unable to keep their feet.

My team does, but it�s a struggle, because her anger, her displeasure is directed at us. The only person who looks unfazed is Catrin. If the Mana vortex that formed around me as I gained experience from the System Quest was large, the one that flows around the new Empress Apparent makes mine look like a dust devil next to a Class III tornado.

Catrin�s changing with each strand of power, each tendril of the System as it takes effect on her. She�s discarding her old Class, gaining a new one, receiving the approval and approbation of the Empire, and gaining a series of Titles to mark her new place in society.

Memories of prior tests, prior Class changes pull at me. A desire, a need, to stare and record the change, to compare it to past studies rises up. It almost disrupts my concentration, pulling my focus from the irate Queen before me. I�ve never felt this before, this need from the Library. If not for the immediate pressure exerted by the Empress�s Aura, I might have even given in. To the library and my own curiosity.

Attention, pulled back, when Ayuri appears, Blink Stepping right up to me. Her friends are behind her, squaring off against Bolo and Mikito, but Ayuri only has eyes for me. And the Empress Apparent. Our only threats here are the Honor Guards, the Champion, and the Empress herself. Everyone else is either too weak or Shackled.

�She asked you a question, Redeemer,� Ayuri snaps. Anger at being betrayed, at being tricked pulses from her. She�s just out of easy reach, though with our conjured weapons, it�d be a simple matter to hurt one another. But we�re not there yet.

Not yet.

�Exactly what you asked me to do, Champion.� I nod to the Empress, trying for nonchalance. Failing, mostly. �Empress.�

�She was not the candidate you mentioned,� Ayuri replies.

�No. But she is what you guys need.�

�You will fix this, Paladin,� the Empress says from her position above. She�s leaning forward, focusing the aura on me.

My knees buckle again, and I have to force them up. Warnings flash as I start taking damage, my body compressed and crushed by a pressure that swallows me up, makes it impossible to move. �And if I refuse?�

�Then we have other candidates. We can wait,� the Empress snarls.

I watch a finger of hers twitch, and I realize she might act against the still-transforming Empress.

The simplest, easiest way to resolve this situation would be to kill Catrin. But they haven�t. Which means as much as they�re opposing my words, they�re still hesitant. Because this is my choice as a Paladin. Webs of social expectations, of engrained duty, of what we imagine our own honor and beliefs are, they can bind our actions. Bind us motionless in threads stronger than titanium.

Especially when you�ve got a reporter feeding this all directly to the world and the Empire at large.

Gainsaying me, in full public view, would be dangerous. Sneaking Harry�s report around the throne�s security system was annoying, but worth it. He�s still getting significant pushback, but his Skills are letting him do it. His Skills and those of fellow Reporters, Galaxy-wide and in this Empire. Building friends, building resources. The Empress could shut it down, but at this point, the information is out.

�Here, let me make it easy for you.� I step back to draw their attention to me again and lessen the threat to Catrin.

Then I spin around, stumbling a little under the pressure exerted by the aura. I can�t help but chuckle at the blood that comes from my mouth as I inadvertently bite my lip. I focus, pushing back against the aura. Triggering my own to help alleviate the pressure. It helps. A little.

I meet the gazes of the four initiates, including Anayton�s disappointed gaze, and see concern in all their eyes. I see it all, then ignore it.

I reach for the library. For the knowledge I have within me, my understanding of the System. I remember how I did it before, then reach sideways and back, touching upon the Quest I gave them. Feeling for the Levels of success they each had.

Then I reach for the Quest I just completed. The one only a Paladin could have received.

And I push.

It�s like trying to move a car in snow. As you put your shoulder to it, as your feet slip and slide, as wheels spin, offering no traction. And you strain, putting everything you have into the push, knowing that if you wait just a little too long, if you fail, the wind, the dropping temperature at night will get you. Have you ever felt metal so cold that to place your skin against it would glue it together?

Ever had to put your hands on the car anyway? And push? Because there�s no one else, no other choice but to do the work. You push, against cold, against the slick ground with booted feet, as you sink deeper and deeper into the snowbank. You push as wheels spin. To live.

If you�ve ever done that, then you know what it�s like, in small part. Maybe a thousandth of what it is to pitch myself against the System.

There�s no additional willpower attribute increase, no System-aided benefit to this kind of work. It�s all human stubbornness against cold, unfeeling glyphs and an unspeakable language. Throwing myself into torrents of information with nothing more than the tether of my will and spirit to hold me aloft.

All so that I can demand the System do what I tell it to do. And it�s only because there�s a groove, an option within the Class Quest System at all, that I can make it work. That I can bump the initiates from one portion of their completed Quest to another Quest, to the completed Empire Quest, and let them finish that too.

I make them Paladins because they helped me bring the Empress Apparent here. They safeguarded her, through threats, external and internal. And because it�s an Empire Quest, because they�re Paladin initiates, the System yields.

Not without taking a payment from me.

Because everything has a cost. Even if you aren�t the one paying it.

I scream into the void as the payment consumes my fragile soul, as the System extracts its price from me. I scream, and all I can do is wrap myself up in my most trusted of protections before I fall unconscious.

***

When I come to, Sanctum is still up. Ayuri, her people, the Empress Apparent, my team sans Harry, and the initiates are all captured within the bubble. Everyone else is kept outside.

My body feels as if every bone in it was shattered and put back together. Ali, hovering beside me, is muttering imprecations, fingers dancing as he manipulates the System, data streams and notifications that I barely glimpse. Too much, too much data, too much information. Though I see more and more boxes set aside for my later perusal.

But he�s not the most important figure among those here. What he�s doing for me is, as always, left unsaid and unappreciated by most. For there�s bigger drama. The Paladins�the former initiates�are standing in a semi-circle around the still-transforming Empress Apparent. The Empress Apparent�s last line of defense.

My team, on the other hand, is looking worse for the wear, as are Ayuri and her people. Bolo�s facing off against Ayuri, his hammer out, glowing. His scalemail is chipped, one entire shoulder pauldron shattered, portions of it embedded within his body. Ayuri�s nursing a broken hand, one that is slowly healing, while Mayaya glares at Dornalor, who�s smirking. The Pirate Captain hates to look as if he�s not in control, but he�s lucky we�re stuck in this Sphere. Mayaya�s severely curtailed, locked out of reality as she is here. On the other hand, Mikito is the least injured, her naginata blade resting on Unilo�s neck.

�Owww!� I complain.

My word draws attention, making everyone look at me. I push myself to my feet, careful to keep an eye on the Champion. My health is still glowing red, slowly ticking upward but at a slower-than-normal rate in this benighted hellhole of a Sphere. But I�m alive.

�Damn good thing, boy-o, that you didn�t take your Class up. You definitely wouldn�t have survived if you�d done that,� Ali sends.

I grunt, acknowledging his words. Acknowledging how close I got. If I�d raised my Class, the System would have yanked me down again. Forced me out of it. And that kind of damage added to everything else�

Pushing against the System like that isn�t something you should do. Or, hell, something I thought I could do. �What exactly did you do?� Ayuri says. She�s glaring at the Paladins, adjusting her grip on her weapon.

�I gave you what you wanted,� I tell her. �I gave you your Paladins.�

�They had a Quest. They hadn�t finished it,� Unilo says. She clamps her mouth shut when the talking brings blood to the blade.

I wave at Mikito, who frowns but removes the polearm, to Unilo�s relief. I grin, feeling my body slowly heal. The System may not have liked my actions, but it isn�t holding back its usual processes either. My body fixes itself, putting me back in fighting condition, the longer we talk. �I fixed that.�

�How?� Anayton asks.

I look back, seeing the puzzled looks on all the Paladins� faces. I can�t help but grin. �Questor secret.�

Funny thing is, that�s not even a lie. If not for the library, emplaced within my mind, there would be no way that I�d know how, or even if, such an action was possible.

Before the others can ask for details, Sanctum falls, revealing us to the crowd. I�m a little surprised to see the ring of Honor Guards surrounding us, the addition of artillery weapons that have been deployed all around the throne room. The Empress is still seated on her throne, though a beefed-up protection squad surrounds her. Nearby, Lord Braxton is watching, wary but cordoned off by another group of guards.

As for the rest of the watchers, the old contenders and the nobles, the other courtiers, they�ve been pushed out of the line of fire. Unable to do anything, their bodies and souls Shackled, they�re just an audience for our little drama.

Surprisingly, Harry�s been left alone. I wonder if it�s his Skill or his status as a non-combatant. But he�s still standing, recording. As are the other reporters.

�Champion, what has happened?� Hasaba asks.

�It seems we have three new Paladins,� Ayuri says. �The Redeemer is no longer necessary.�

I grin, all teeth and challenge as I bow to the Empress. �As requested, as promised. Your Paladins. Now we can stop acting as if what I did was a damn travesty and finish this. You can accept my choice. Or kill me.�

Gasps and hisses arise from more than a few guards, from the audience, from Bolo. Mikito doesn�t seem at all surprised, while Donarlor is eyeing the exit, plotting the best way to escape and not looking at all happy that there isn�t one. I kind of feel bad for the Pirate Captain.

�You�� The Queen quickly takes hold of herself as rage burns in her eyes at my open defiance. I can see her mind spinning, working out implications even as the Mana swirl around Catrin slowly dies.

�My Empress, before you act,� Anayton speaks up. She steps away from Catrin, coming up to my shoulder, then passing it. She stops between myself and the Queen and Champion. She spares only a glance at Ayuri before she continues. �Paladin Lee might be loud, confrontational, and overly melodramatic in his actions, but he�s a Paladin.�

�And what do you mean by that?� The Queen�s voice drops, almost hissing.

Freif walks over, his feet somewhat unsteady, his face pale. He�s clenching his fist again and again, as if he wishes he was holding something. A bottle, perhaps. �His choice is our choice.�

Kino, the last to speak, rumbles from his position next to Catrin, �If you kill him, you�ll need to find new Paladins. For we will guard him and the Empress Apparent.�

The Queen doesn�t answer us directly, instead turning her Aura on us. Except this time, there�s something else added to it. I�m not entirely certain what, but it�s sharper, deadlier. None of us manage to hold our feet except the Empress Apparent. Not this time. We crash almost in unison to the floor.

Even Ali is squished, his body made of energy beginning to disperse. I feel newly healed bones and organs crack, split, and bleed. For a second, I regret my actions. Not because of where it�s led me but for those I�ve dragged along. I hadn�t expected the initiates to stand up for me. Hoped, maybe. But not expected.

I hear a commotion from behind. Those who have been Shackled are finding themselves caught in an impossible situation. The Shackles require them to protect the Empress Apparent�who is now under attack from the Empress herself.

If they do something, they die. Do nothing and they die.

Already, Shackles are ripping out of bodies, tightening across flesh and bone, threatening to tear them apart. I assume that�s part of the reason why Hasbata�s been slow to act. To lose so many of her people would weaken the Queen, the Empire greatly.

But I pushed her too far, too hard, perhaps. This time, there�s no let up as her Aura does nothing but crush us, tear at our bodies and souls. As my life slips away, I hear the screams from the Generals, the heads of industry, the nobles rise.

I gambled. Once too often.

And failed. For the last time.

And then, suddenly, blessed relief.

The Aura�s pushed back, the pressure lessened. It�s not all gone, but most of it fades. Like a tide broken by tide-breaking rocks. I stagger to my feet out of sheer stubbornness rather than any sense, driven by anger. My head pounds, blood drips from my nose, eyes, ears, and fingertips themselves. I�m seeing double, triple at times.

But I force myself to stand. Shame at being crushed that easily turns to anger. I stand.

Only to see Catrin before all of us. Pushing back against the Empress with her own Aura. I blink, even as my Mana Sense triggers, showing me the almost unseen struggle. I see the waves of pressure as Auras fight one another. I�m surprised that Catrin�s able to do this, to push back this far.

And, as I think this, the System answers.

Title: The Empress Apparent of Erethra

As the Empress Apparent of Erethra, the titleholder gains certain benefits, reputation changes, and the collected regard of the Empire to wield. In return, certain Class Skills effects by Title Holder will apply to the populace of the Empire.

Effect 1: Gain a lesser version of the Aura of the Empire affect

Effect 2: Major reputation changes among Galactic society

Effect 3: Selected Class Skills affect citizens of the Empire

�Thousand Hells, that�s a Title!� I blurt.

Ali, having pulled himself together, literally, floats over. He joins me in staring at the Empress Apparent before his voice enters my mind. �Yup. How she�s holding the Queen�s aura back to this degree, I don�t know. Must be a combination of her own Skills.�

I shake my head, not interested in the answer. Not right now at least. Instead, I walk forward, joining Catrin. The Empress and the Empress Apparent have their gazes locked upon one another, while everyone else is disregarded.

The very air between them warps, as the System, as the Auras press upon one another. It�s clear that Catrin�s the weaker. That�s why a lesser effect of the pressing, cutting Aura of the Empress is still upon us. But people aren�t actively dying. Not by much at least. Not from the Aura. But there�s a price�I note the nosebleed on Catrin�s face as she strains.

I glance over, spotting Ayuri. She�s standing, her weapon held by her side. But not attacking. I�m grateful that she hasn�t. And I wonder, for once, if she can. As Champion, can she? I don�t know. But I�m grateful, either way. For we are more than our Classes.

�If you were men, I�d say put the� Mana sticks away and stop measuring. Because if you don�t, you�re going to be down a lot of citizens.� I turn, pointing backward to where many of those I Shackled writhe on the floor. A few of the weaker, more Administrative side of society aren�t moving anymore. My chains, my shackles, with their spiked obligations continue to dig in, grinding away at the health of those bound.

There�s a long pause as the Queen considers. Then she finally relaxes her aura, sitting back. Mental commands follow, and the Honor Guard casts spells, fixing the audience. Others are chivied out, pulled away.

I watch, wondering what would happen if she managed to kill the Empress Apparent out of sight. Would the Shackled still die? I�ve bet a lot on the Empress�s sensibility, her desire to keep her Empire strong. I wish I knew better how the Shackles worked, how it might affect them. It was probably explored and discussed in the Paladins� histories. I just never got to it.

In tense silence, we wait, as the Paladins behind me, as my friends, recover. Only when we�re alone but for the guards and the Queen�s attendants, but for my allies, does the Queen speak.

�Why her?�

�Ask Lord Braxton,� I reply.

The poor man looks startled to be drawn forward like this. But he eventually sighs and prowls forward, some of his earlier subservience fading away, his back straightening. �How long have you know?�

�Since the first night,� I say.

I turn to Catrin, stepping close to her, and take her hand. She looks slightly amused�until I raise it and turn over the hand to showcase the dark gold ring she always wears.

�When you didn�t ever take this off, when the thread between you and Lord Braxton was so intensely woven. When the Houndmaster and his Hounds made their presence known, helping me. I knew.�

�She�s one of yours?� the Queen says. Now, she�s less angry, more intrigued.

�Yes, Your Empress. One of my internal security members,� Lord Braxton says. Houndmaster, but there are no hounds. Not physically at least. Just figuratively. The Houndmaster chases down those who would be the enemies of the state by loosing his Hounds on them.

�Even so, a spy is not a General. And we need a General,� Hasbata says. But now she�s more argumentative than angry.

�No, you don�t. Your contenders, Brerdain, Julierudi, with the Shackles in place, they can be used to the fullest extent to hold your borders, especially since you�ve got three new Paladins,� I say. �Catrin�s also only mid-Level Advanced Class, so rising in experience, gaining the Skills to aid the entirety of your Empire as your heir Apparent, should be simple. She can grow, given time.�

�So is�� The Queen hesitates, her glance flicking to Anayton. Then realizing that the gig is up, she says it. �Anayton. She who you told us would be your choice. She would have been a good Queen. Honor Guard, loyalty guaranteed, a fighter who could have been a Paladin.�

�Yes. A good Queen.� I look at Anayton, whose face is carefully blank, though I see the confusion within her eyes. The tinge of regret. �But she�ll make a great Paladin.�

When the group looks doubtful, I sigh. �Catrin, your heir Apparent, can play the game, your political game, better than anyone else. She knows what your world needs because she�s been both swanning around among the top of your Society and crawled up from the bottom.

�Working for Lord Braxton, she knows where the bodies are kept, how to clean it all up, who has to be cleaned up. And she can do it, now that you have your Paladins back. And once we let the world know what she did, what she really was, they�ll be a lot less doubtful about her suitability from the military. Especially since her first targets will be the nobles.�

I shake my head and wave. �I�ve also Shackled the major players. So you�ve got time. Time to let her train, to gain in Levels. Maybe not a lot, before the others take over, before the Generals we�ve Shackled are replaced. But enough. If you let her.�

Hasbata continues to frown, obviously not entirely convinced.

Then, before I can keep pitching the woman, Catrin puts a hand on my arm. I shut up as she steps around me, approaching the throne. Ayuri moves to block the way but stills at a glance from the Queen.

Hasbata�s retracted her Aura, making it easier for all of us to breathe, to continue healing. As Catrin strides forward, glancing between Ayuri, Lord Braxton, the other attendants, and the Honor Guards before her, I can only hope I was right. Silence stretches out before us as the click-clack of her heels on the floor resounds, the only noise within the expansive throne room. As she leaves, the hint of her scent, that nutmeg and musk, fades. We wait. The room waits.

Catrin finally comes to a stop at the foot of the stairs leading to the throne. She looks up, meeting the Empress�s gaze, and speaks.

�We should talk. Privately.�

Chapter 28

Not with a bang but with a whimper.

That�s how things get resolved in the end. They kicked us out, my team and me. We�re put on watch, even if the new Paladins are ushered out to be debriefed and checked over. They go without much complaint�for now.

Once the check is done, they�re released to do their thing, Leveling and searching down Quests to complete. Annoyingly, it seems that the Empress has been withholding a number of Empire Quests from me. Quite a number that are Paladin only have stacked up, giving the new Paladins a lot to choose from. It keeps the Paladins and their teams busy, Leveling and righting wrongs.

The Empress and the Empress Apparent speak for hours on the first day, before the announcement is made. Not that Harry�s transmissions hadn�t spread. But the official broadcasts reaffirm and ensure that Catrin�s place is officially backed. There will be no midnight assassination, no random body turning up, skewered by the Champion.

Our captors let us get news and messages from outside the cells they hold us in. Carefully monitored, but they let me read the news. Which is nice. I�m sure they�ll let us out eventually. Or so I hope.

The first to find me is Anayton. The Paladin finds me in my gray, drab, utilitarian cell with its single tiny window. She finds me staring at the ceiling, running over the experiences, teasing at the memories and information that the library expelled. That told me of what was to come when what I�d done to the Paladin initiates was spread around.

And staring at the single notification I�ve refused to dismiss.

System Quest Completion Rate: 89%

�Redeemer,� Anayton greets me softly.

I swing my legs from the bunk so that I can sit up and stare at her. �Not Paladin anymore?�

�Not between equals.� She takes a seat across from me, the nanites forming a chair for her.

�I�m surprised they let you see me.�

�I�ve� been given some additional privileges. Informally. Because of what they heard,� Anayton says, glancing toward the door she came in from, where the guards await.

�Ah, right.� My lips twist. �And you wanted to talk about that.�

�Yes.�

I pause, considering. �I�m sorry. For using your name. I needed��

�A distraction,� Anayton replies. �I understand. Why me though?�

�Because you and the Empress Apparent are similar in many ways. Your sense of duty, your understanding of war and what it truly means,� I say. �Life on the frontier or the Restricted Zones.�

�You used me to test the waters with the Queen.� When I nod, she adds, with a little more heat in her voice, �Then why not just choose me?�

�Did you want it? Do you want it?� I say.

�Of course I don�t!� Anayton says. �To be trapped by politics and compromises, to weigh the needs of each person, each army with every single decision I make? Or refuse to make? Who�d want that?�

�Who would, I wonder?� another voice, this one softer, interrupts Anayton�s rant.

I twist my head to the side, raising an eyebrow. �How�d you get in here?�

�Why can�t I?� Catrin says as she sways over. There�s a little less sex kitten in her movements, more confident businesswoman�and damn is it hot. She smiles, as if knowing what I think, even as her new bodyguards behind her glare at me. �I am the Empress Apparent.�

�Your Grace.� Anayton bows and salutes, a blush creeping up on her face. �I-I meant no disrespect.�

�None taken. I wasn�t offered much choice either,� Catrin says, stopping before me.

She keeps smiling, even as she hauls back and slaps me into the nearby wall. I peel myself off the shattered cell wall, spitting out blood and a couple of cracked teeth.

�Owwww. And how?� I say. That was a powerful attack, but there�s no way it should have done that much damage.

�Empress advantage. Your resistances don�t work on me,� Catrin says lightly. She turns her head to the still-bowing Anayton. �And get up. You�re a Paladin. You shouldn�t be cowering. Look at John here. He didn�t cower when he made decisions on mine and your lives. Without asking.�

I wince again, this time the dig being a little more pointed. When Catrin beckons, I walk over warily.

�Yes, Your Grace. But it seems you two have much to speak of�� Anayton slowly edges out of the room.

�Are you done then? Content with your place?� Catrin asks while I stop nearby, nursing my aching jaw. The worse part of losing teeth is feeling the System replace them in real time.

�I am, Your Grace. I was� unhappy with being used. But I understand the Redeemer�s choices. Even if I might not agree with them.� Anayton shoots me another glare.

�Very well. We look forward to seeing how you progress, Paladin Nichortin.�

Anayton scurries out, leaving me alone with Catrin. The Empress Apparent turns to regard me, her eyes trailing from my eyes to rest at my swollen jaw. At a mental command, the cell doors close at her bidding, blocking off the guards and bodyguards. I hear muttered imprecations from outside, but I ignore them.

I can�t help but marvel at the changes. She�s shed the false front, removed the ring that hid her true Class, dropped the dual Classes she had to take to help hide her Status. The things she needed as a Hound. And with it gone, her true Levels, her true experience shines through.

Empress Apparent Catrin Dufoff of the Erethran Empire, Empire Top Companion, The Hidden Blade, Class 2 Human Resource, Slayer of Goblins, Wexlix, Crilik, (more)� (Erethran Empress Apparent Level 2) (M)

HP: 2410/2410

MP: 3480/3480

Conditions: Aura of the Empire (retracted), Trust of the Empire, Never too Late, Pheromones, A Good Impression

She steps closer, and I tense as she brings her hand up, turning my red and bruised face from side to side, before she leans in and kisses me. Rather hard.

�Owwww�� I complain when I get my lips back.

�You idiot.� She steps back again, dropping her hand. �Why did you do that? Did you think I was some Artisan you had to save?�

I mentally wince, doing my best to hide my reaction. I doubt it works, but I have to try. There�s truth to her accusation, at least partly. Playing the white knight might have factored�did factor�into this. Saving others, helping them, it has become habit. Even if they felt they didn�t need it. But I know better than to say of that.

�Well?� Catrin arches an eyebrow.

�Need! The Empire doesn�t need another General or noble or damn cultist. Could you imagine them? They all have their agendas, and none of those agendas give a damn about those beneath them�or the realities of the System. And it�s not as if I know that many others. Most who could, who would have worked, would turn it down. You�� I shrug. �I knew you wouldn�t. You�re already enmeshed in the political system and the power players, without actually being beholden to anyone but the Queen. You�re smart enough to know what needs to be done, and your background��

�My background?�

�Your background means you�re likely to sympathize,� I say. �With those who are always crushed under. A monarchy isn�t the best option at times, but with the right person� it might work.�

�And my Levels? The fact that I can�t boost the army?�

�You were always going to need to grind to get the best Skills in your Class. But if you think your Skills don�t help the army, then you�re just as blind as the rest of them.�

�My Skills�� Catrin�s eyes go distant as she stares at the Skills that the System decided was relevant to pass on to the rest of us.

In turn, I pull up the information on my side.

Empathic Bond (Empress Apparent Title Effect) (A)

Understanding a target is paramount to extracting information from them. Empathic Bond allows you to sense and reflect the feelings of your target with greater accuracy.

Effect: +16.3% in empathic connection, emotional and body language recognition and reflection.

Data Analysis (Empress Apparent Title Effect) (B)

Data is just knowledge, unsorted. Data Analysis allows user to analyze and acquire information at an increased rate, increasing learning speed, and knowledge acquisition.

Effect: +11.4% in data analysis.

Never Too Late (Empress Apparent Title Effect) (A)

A socialite is never too late. They might be late, but they are never too late. This Skill gives a socialite a dual effect Skill, first in event timing and the second in movement speed.

Effect: +13.4% in event timing intuition. +47.2% movement speed when required

The first Skill was an Advanced Class Skill. I knew on her side, it actually had a much larger effect�one that allowed her to almost intuitively grasp what people all around her were thinking. In fact, at higher Levels like she had, it combined with the minimap option and offered almost a sixth sense, as the System fed in emotional readouts from even normally hidden attackers. It allowed a Skill holder to take the temperature of a room or read killing intent just as easily.

As for the second Skill, it�s a Basic Skill from her base Class. It�s a non-combat Skill, but its uses extend to training and duels, to practice and tactical analysis. As a base Administrative Class Skill, it�s the basis of a lot of their work and the ability to handle and deal with solar system levels of information.

The last Skill is the one that amuses me the most. It�s the Skill that might just be better than the Admiral�s, since it might get people to where they need to be, when they need to be there. I�m still not sure if it�ll play out that way, but there�s only one way to find out. I hadn�t expected that Skill to turn up, though I�d hoped.

All three Skills are more subtle in their effects, less in-your-face than a General�s XP increase, or a damage upgrade from a Sargent. It�s not as powerful, by far, as the Admiral�s if she had taken over. Her domain Skill would have made some clear changes to merchants, to interstellar commerce. But, I believe�I have to believe�that these Skills will have a wider effect. Because everyone, anyone, will have access, will use these Skills every single day.

�Empathy, knowledge, and social grace?� Catrin smiles at me. �And you gambled the Empire on these soft skills?�

�Hey, I�m a West Coast kid. We�re all crystals, granola bars, and sunshine.� I don�t stop to let Catrin answer, because I know she can�t understand the reference. Or is unlikely to, at least. �And I didn�t know, not for certain, but I had a guess. The rest of it, you can grind up. You�ll have to.�

�Yes.� Catrin touches my face again, the bruise on my jaw already faded. My skin is unmarred again, smooth and perfect. �I will. The Queen has given me a year to Level. To prove myself, to prove that your choice was not a complete mistake. To convince everyone else.�

I pause, then nod slowly. It makes sense. A stay of execution for my non-combat-based choice. �When do you leave?�

�Today.�

I open my mouth to ask where, then clomp my teeth together. Best not to ask, best not to know. She�ll be safer that way.

�I came to ask. And to say goodbye. To cut ties.�

I step back, putting space between us. Offering her a half-smile. �I know.�

I knew. The moment I made my choice.

I bow low, sweeping a hand behind my back, bending my knee. �Empress Apparent, Catrin Dufoff. Rule well. Rule long.�

Catrin steps back too, offering me the barest inclination of her head. Accepting my words, my offer. And if there�s regret there, of what could have been. Only the two of us will ever know.

�Live well, Paladin.�

***

When she�s gone, I close my eyes and breathe. I let the emotions exist for a time. Let them rest within my mind, let my breathing go heavy and tired. And then, like everything else, I sweep it up and bottle it away. Put it in that box where I store away all the pain, all the loss, all the anger of an apocalypse. It�s hard, harder than before. Because this time, I can�t blame the System, can�t blame a cruel and uncaring world. Or fate, forcing me apart.

It�s hard this time. Because I chose this ending.

I draw a deep breath and let it out, and with my mind clear, my path cleansed, for the first time in days, I turn to my notifications.

Level Up!

You have reached Level 50 as a Paladin of Erethra. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 14 Free Attribute Points and 14 Class Skills to distribute.

That had arrived when I finished the Empire Quest. I shouldn�t have gained five Levels from a single Quest like that, even if it was a Heroic Level Empire Quest. But my cheaty experience requirements meant I jumped up fast. Of course, I wasn�t the only one who cheated. Mikito gained some experience from her Skill too.

Just as important is the next notification.

-Heroic Class Possible! -

-Would you like to challenge your Heroic Class Quests? Available Quests include:-

- -Grand Paladin of Erethra

- -The Lord of Light

- -Shield of Rage

- -more�-

Unfortunately, my little stunt with the System had seen that taken away from me. My choices, my options. In a bitch slap that robbed me of some of my experience from the Quest, that robbed me of some of the benefits of my Level Up, the System had also enforced a new Class. One that I only dared to look at now, when I�m alone and certain of my safety.

I turn my gaze to the small window and look at the twinkling night lights of the city in the distance. The cell, the corridor outside, the prison, they echo with an emptiness that seem to wrap me up, remind me of how alien this world is.

And then I stare at my new Status Screen.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Junior System Admin (Grand Paladin)

Race

Human (Male)

Level

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,

Corrupt Questor, Class Lock

Health

5170

Stamina

5170

Mana

4660

Mana Regeneration

434 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

368

Agility

446

Constitution

517

Perception

300

Intelligence

466

Willpower

529

Charisma

220

Luck

121

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Domain

System Edit

(Grand Cross)

(1)

External Class Skills

Instantaneous Inventory

Frenzy

Cleave

Tech Link

Elemental Strike

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps

Analyze

Harden

Quantum Lock

Elastic Skin

Disengage Safeties

Temporary Forced Link

Hyperspace Nitro Boost

On the Edge

Fates Thread

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Enhanced Particle Ray

Variable Gravitic Sphere

Zone of Denial

There are quite a few changes in play. All that Leveling meant I never had a chance to make use of the free attribute points and the free Class Skill points. I still have forty-two free attributes and two Class Skill points from the Erethran Paladin Class. And another ten attribute points from my Class upgrade.

I stare at my Class and bring up the entirely unhelpful explanation. Strangely enough, the explanation�in its entirety�is in English. Not Galactic that has been translated by Ali into English, but English to begin with.

Class: Junior System Administrator (H)

A Junior System Administrator has a minor role in overseeing the smooth operation of the System. They have access to the basic code of the System and may make minor changes to ensure the continued, smooth functioning of the System and the achievement of its primary goal.

+4 in Strength and Agility per Level. +5 in Constitution per Level. +8 in Intelligence per Level. +10 in Luck and Free Attributes points per Level.

External Mental Manipulation and Information Access is Barred.

All other Resistances increased by 20% (stackable).

Damage received reduced by 25%

Access to Level 3 installations and code

+1 Class Skill per every two Levels

If I hadn�t known something strange was going on, the new Title�which is hidden from all but Ali�s gaze�would have told me.

Title Achieved: Class Unlock

You have a limited, secret Class. As per Galactic Order 4.1, all such System Administrative Classes and Titles are hidden. You have access to equivalent Classes and Skills as per Galactic Order 4.1.1.

Effect: Your Class shows as�Grand Paladin of Erethra. You may access the equivalent number of Class Skills (1) of the Grand Paladin Class (1�locked to Grand Cross).

I never even got a chance to choose my Skills. Never got a chance to look them over, decide if this was the right one. And unlike so many other Skills, the singular Skill offered to me by the Administrator Class is incredibly simplistic in its description.

System Edit

A core Skill for System Administrators.

Effect: Make trivial to minor amendments to System processes

Cost: Variable (HP & MP)

I stare at the information once more and reach out, touching the tendrils of the System, the way it overlays and encompasses the Mana it marks. The way it presses upon my skin, twists itself into me and the very air we breathe. It�s everywhere, a part of everything. Making it all work.

And I can change it.

The memories that lie within unlock finally. They tell me what I have stumbled upon, what I forced on the Paladins, and then myself. They tell me how it was all logged.

And that there will be consequences.

Epilogue

Six Pauhiri months. As the world spins, as Empire Quests and dungeons spawn are defeated. I stick around, studying my mind, making full use of the Empress Apparent�s bonuses for Data Analysis, doing my best to understand what the Corrupt Questors have learnt.

What I�ve stumbled upon.

As good as her word, Catrin is gone. Spirited off for training, for developing her Skills. The first time she placed a point in her Skills, we all noticed. And again, a few months later, as she Leveled up enough to get another point. She�s grinding, under the protection of the Honor Guards. Protected by the promises I drew from the others with the Shackles. Though rumblings of discontent, of Brerdain and Julierudi losing standing even as Spuryan and his people grow in numbers, rise every single day.

The Paladins take to their jobs with a vengeance. Freif travels to the frontlines, bringing his brand of destruction and violence to hot spots across the Empire. He and Ayuri are out there constantly, making it clear that the Empire is not any weaker with the choice I made.

Kino�s taken a different tack, going after the nobles and the corruption. The big Risen has connections with others of his kind, with the disposed. Aided by Gheisnan�s packmates and Spuryan, Kino�s tearing a whole new swath through the corrupt practices that have flourished in the absence of the Paladins. Amusingly enough, Kino�s the lowest Level of the three since he�s often stuck babysitting a multitude of Auditors, Investigators, and the like. There�s only so much the Eyes of Insight can do.

As for Anayton? She�s the busiest of the group. Though she concentrates a lot of her time in Restricted Zones, she also hops over to help Kino or Freif as needed. She�s absorbed a large number of the surviving team members of the deceased initiates. To my surprise, Smo�kana is added to her team. He�s back on track to potentially become a Paladin under Anayton�s tutelage. I disagree with her choice, but that�s the thing�variety is the spice of life.

In the end, they don�t need me. Even when we locate Krenmock�ex-Duke of the Inifinite Keeps�the fight is over long before it starts. Without the aid of his most powerful allies�who are all Shackled to not betray the Empress�he�s cornered on the floating asteroid he calls his base. The only reason it was a challenge was because we decided to play nice and go in instead of bringing a fleet to blow it to bits at a distance.

I�m left alone, and that leaves me more than enough time to grind and, very carefully, test my new Skill. I explore the System, the way it changes lairs to dungeons, the unClassed to Classed. I watch as people complete new Quests and accept new Classes, when Settlement Orbs flicker and die and when Mana overpowers technology. I eye Skills as they trigger, as the System takes over the heavy lifting.

And I understand more than ever.

But my System Quest doesn�t tick up, no matter what I learn of how the System works. I�m stuck at the 89% mark. I�m missing something, and I can only believe that it�s in my head somewhere. And so, I study. I suffer through the headaches and the pain, the bloody noses and the brain bleeds that are fixed by the System in my trawling through the library.

Searching. And failing.

Six months, and finally, the other shoe drops.

Because choices have consequences. And consequences have babies.

The call comes as I ready to open a Portal to another dungeon. I step off the teleportation platform, allowing others to take my place. Mikito frowns, drawing her naginata�to the chagrin of the guards. But she ignores them, watching Ali and me.

�John?�

�Katherine.� I frown, staring at Earth�s Ambassador to the Galactic Council. All these years and she�s managed to hold the position. She�s grown into it, from the brief conversations we�ve had. But there�s a haunted look in the woman�s eyes today, her hair in disarray, a smudge of something dark and black on her cheek. �What�s wrong?�

�They destroyed the Embassy,� she says, her voice shaking with each word. �Killed half of my staff, those who didn�t have enough health. We need you to come.�

�To Irvina?�

Her head bobs like a marionette�s. She drops her voice, whispering the next words and sending a chill through me. �They killed Peter. They�ll kill us all if you don�t come.�

�Who?� My fingers ache, my fists clenched so tightly they hurt. �Who�s threatening you?�

She startles, looks over her shoulder at a noise only she can hear. �They�re coming. I have to go.�

�Who�s coming?�

A pair of last words, before the connection cuts off, before my head hurts as the System shuts down the jagged call.

�The Council.�

###

The End

Thus Ends Book 9 of the System Apocalypse.

John will be back in Broken Council (Book 10 of the System Apocalypse)

Estimated release Q4 2020 / Q1 2021

Author�s Note

Stars Asunder is the end of the Galactic arc for the System Apocalypse series. This arc was always meant to showcase John�s journey through the System universe, showcasing to him the effects of the System on planets not his own and also, providing him further clues to the ultimate question � What is the System?

The next book, Broken Council will start the final arc of the System Apocalypse series. Having drawn the ire of the Galactic Council, he�ll be forced to make difficult choices, and do his very best to survive the coming storm.

As always, I�m grateful for everyone who has followed me on this long journey. I�ve received more support in this little story in my head than I could ever expect and hope that you�ve enjoyed the journey thus far.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Reviews are the lifeblood of authors and help others choose to continue with the series or not.

In addition, please check out my other series, Adventures on BradAdventures on Brad(https://readerlinks.com/l/971658)

(a more traditional young adult LitRPG fantasy), Hidden WishesHidden Wishes(https://readerlinks.com/l/971659)

(an urban fantasy GameLit series), and A Thousand LiA Thousand Li(https://readerlinks.com/l/971660)

(a cultivation series inspired by Chinese xianxia novels).

To support me directly, please go to my Patreon account:

https://www.patreon.com/taowonghttps://www.patreon.com/taowong(https://www.patreon.com/taowong)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

- GameLit SocietyGameLit Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

- LitRPG Books- LitRPG Books(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPG.books/)

About the Author

For updates on the series and other books written by Tao Wong (and special one-shot stories), please visit the author�s website:

http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

Subscribers to Tao�s mailing list will receive exclusive access to short stories in the Thousand Li and System Apocalypse universes: https://www.subscribepage.com/taowonghttps://www.subscribepage.com/taowong(https://www.subscribepage.com/taowong)

Or visit his Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/(https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/)

About the Publisher

Starlit Publishing is wholly owned and operated by Tao Wong. It is a science fiction and fantasy publisher focused on the LitRPG & cultivation genres. Their focus is on promoting new, upcoming authors in the genre whose writing challenges the existing stereotypes while giving a rip-roaring good read.

For more information on Starlit Publishing, visit our websiteStarlit Publishing, visit our website(https://www.starlitpublishing.com) !

You can also join Starlit Publishing�s mailing listjoin Starlit Publishing�s mailing list(https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/p8x4z1)

to learn of new, exciting authors and book releases.

Books in The System Apocalypse Universe

Main Storyline

Life in the North

Redeemer of the Dead

The Cost of Survival

Cities in Chains

Coast on Fire

World Unbound

Stars Awoken

Rebel Star

Stars Asunder

Broken Council (Q4 2020/Q1 2021)

Anthologies

System Apocalypse Short Story Anthology Volume 1

Comic Series

The System Apocalypse Comics (On-going)

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 5)

Soulbound weapon now permanently imbued with Mana to deal more damage on each hit. +30 Base Damage (Mana). Will ignore armor and resistances. Mana regeneration reduced by 25 Mana per minute permanently.

Blade Strike (Level 5)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 50 feet away.

Cost: 50 Stamina + 50 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Effect: Increase natural health regeneration by 35%. Ongoing health status effects reduced by 33%. Honor Guard may now regenerate lost limbs. Mana regeneration reduced by 15 Mana per minute permanently.

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to 1 kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills, and ambient Mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

A Thousand Blades (Level 4)

Creates five duplicate copies of the user�s designated weapon. Duplicate copies deal base damage of copied items. May be combined with Mana Imbue and Shield Transference. Mana Cost: 3 Mana per second

Soul Shield (Level 4)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 1,500 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 10,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Army of One (Level 4)

Effect: Army of One allows the projection of (Number of Thousand Blades conjured weapons * 3) Blade Strike attacks up to 500 meters away from user. Each attack deals 5 * Blade Strike Level damage (inclusive of Mana Imbue and Soulbound weapon bonus)

Cost: 750 Mana

Sanctum (Level 2)

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Penetration (Level 9�Evolved)

Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 45 permanently.

Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive Skills and spells by 90%. Increases damage done to shields and structural supports by 175%.

Secondary Effect: Damage that is resisted by spells, armor, Skills and Resistances is transferred to an Evolved Skill shield at a ratio of 1 to 1.

Duration: 85 minutes

Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

Note: Aura may be activated or left-off at will.

Beacon of the Angels (Level 2)

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the maximum 25 meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

Eyes of Insight (Level 1)

Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.

Eye of the Storm (Level 1)

Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second

Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 2)

Effect: +45 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 55% and recovery rates by 35%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute and speed boosting Skills or spells.

Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second

Society�s Web (Level 1)

Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.

Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute

Domain (Level 2)

Details not revealed as yet.

Grand Paladin Skills

Grand Cross (Level 1)

Details not revealed as yet.

Junior Administrator Skills

System Edit

A core Skill for System Administrators.

Effect: Make trivial to minor amendments to System processes

Cost: Variable (HP & MP)

Other Class Skills

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1�Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Shrunken Footsteps (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Hodo�s Triple Forged Armor

Analyze (Level 2)

Harden (Level 2)

Effect: Reduces penetrative effects of attacks by 30% on targeted defense.

Cost: 3 Mana per second

Quantum Lock (Level 3)

Requirements: 200 Willpower, 200 Intelligence

Area of Effect: 100 meter radius around user

Cost: 250 + 50 Mana per Minute

Elastic Skin (Level 3)

Disengage Safeties (Level 2)

All technological weapons have safeties built in. Users of this Skill recklessly disregard the mandatory safeties, deciding that they know better than the crafters, engineers, and government personnel who built and regulate the production of these technological pieces.

Effects: Increase power output from 2.5-25% depending on the weapon and its level of sophistication. Increase durability losses from use by 25-250%.

Cost: 200 Mana + 25 Mana per minute

Temporary Forced Link (Level 1)

Most Class Skills can�t be linked with another�s. The instability formed between the mixing of the aura from multiple Mana sources often results in spectacular�and explosive�scenarios. For the 02m8 Symbiotes though, the need to survive within their host bodies and use their Skills has resulted in this unique Skill, allowing the Symbiote to lend their Mana and Skills. (For more persistent effects, see Mana Graft)

Effect: Skill and Skill effects are forcibly combined. Final effect results will vary depending on level of compatibility of Skills.

Cost: 250 Mana + 10 Mana per minute (plus original Skill cost)

Hyperspace Nitro Boost (Level 1)

When you�ve got to win the race, there�s nothing like a hyperspace boost. This Skill links the user with his craft�s hyperspace engine, providing a direct boost to its efficiency. Unlike normal speed increases for hyperspace engines, the Nitro Boost is a variable boost and runs a risk of damaging the engine.

Effect: 15% increase in hyperspace engine efficiency + variable % increase in efficiency at 1% per surplus Mana. Each additional 1% over base raises chance of catastrophic engine failure by 0.01%

Cost: 250 Mana + (surplus variable amount; minimum 200 Mana increments) per minute

On the Edge (Level 1)

Shuttle racers live their lives on the edge, cutting corners by feet and dodging monsters by inches. There�s only one way to drive a ship with that level of precision, and no matter what those military Pilots tell you, it�s with On the Edge.

Effect: +10% boost in ship handling and maneuverability. +10% passive increase in all piloting skills. +1% increase per increment of surplus Mana

Cost: 100 Mana per level + (surplus variable amount; minimum 100 Mana increments) per minute

Fate�s Thread (Level 2)

The Akashi�so believe that we are all but weavings in the great thread of life. Connected to one another by the great Weaver, there is not one but multiple threads between us all, woven from our interactions and histories. Fate�s Thread is but a Skill expression of this belief. This Skill cannot be dodged but may be blocked. After all, all things are bound together.

Effect: Fate Thread allows the user to bind individuals together by making what is already there apparent. Thread is made physical and may be used to pull, tie and bind.

Duration: 2 minutes

Cost: 60 Mana

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Effect: Heals 40 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Effect: Creates four missiles out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 30 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 35 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity

Greater Regeneration (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Firestorm

Effect: Create a firestorm with a radius of 5 meters. Deals 250 points of fire damage to those caught within. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing (II)

Effect: Heals 100 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 75 Mana

Mana Drip (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 200 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 150 Mana

MudWalls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Create Water

Pulls water from the elemental plane of water. Water is pure and the highest form of water available. Conjures 1 liter of water. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 50 Mana

Scry

Cost: 25 Mana per minute.

Scrying Ward

Blocks scrying spells and their equivalent within 5 meters of caster. Higher level spells may not be blocked, but caster may be alerted about scrying attempts. Cooldown: 10 minutes

Cost: 50 Mana per minute

Improved Invisibility

Hides target�s System information, aura, scent, and visual appearance. Effectiveness of spell is dependent upon Intelligence of caster and any Skills or Spells in conflict with the target.

Cost: 100 + 50 Mana per minute

Improved Mana Cage

Cost: 200 Mana + 75 Mana per minute

Improved Flight

(Fly birdie, fly!�Ali) This spell allows the user to defy gravity, using controlled bursts of Mana to combat gravity and allow the user to fly in even the most challenging of situations. The improved version of this spell allows flight even in zero gravity situations and a higher level of maneuverability. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute

Equipment

Hod�s Triple Fused Armor

The product of multiple workings by the Master Blacksmith and Crafter Hodiliphious �Hod� Yalding, the Triple Fused Armor was hand-forged from rare, System-generated material, hand refined and reworked trice over with multiple patented and rare alloys and materials. The final product is considered barely passable by Hod�though it would make a lesser craftsman cry.

Core: Class I Hallow Physics Mana Engine

CPU: Class B Wote Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier I (Enhanced)

Hard Points: 9 (6 Used�Jungian Flight System, Talpidae Abyssal Horns, Luione Hard Light Projectors, Diarus Poison Stingers, Ares Type I Shield Generator, Greater Troll Cell Injectors)

Soft Points 4 (3 Used�Neural Link, Ynir HUD Imaging, Airmed Body Monitor)

Battery Capacity: 380/380

Active Skills: Abyssal Chains, Mirror Shade, Poison Grip

Attribute Bonuses: +93 Strength, +78 Agility, +51 Constitution, +44 Perception, +287 Stamina and Health Regeneration per minute

Note: Hod�s Triple Fused Armor is currently under limited warranty. Armor may be teleported to Hod�s workshop for repairs once a week. All cost of repairs will be deducted from user�s account.

Skills in Hod�s Armor:

Abyssal Chains

Calling upon the material connection to the shadow plane, chains from the abyss erupt, binding a target in place.

Effect: Target is bound by shadow chains. Chains deal 10 points of damage per second. To break free, target must win a contested Strength test. Abyssal Chains have a Strength of 120.

Uses: 2/3

Recharge rate: 1 per hour

Mirror Shade

Mirror Shade creates a semi-solid doppelganger using hard light technology and Mana.

Effect: Mirror Shade create a semi-solid doppelganger of the user for a period of ten minutes. Maximum range of doppelganger from user is fifty meters. Doppelganger has 18% physical fidelity.

Use: 0/1

Recharge Rate: 1 per 4 hours

Silversmith Jeupa VII Anti-Personnel Cannon (Modified & Upgraded)

Base Damage: 787 per barrel

Battery Capacity: 4 per barrel (16 total)

Recharge Rate: 0.25 per hour per GMU

Ares Platinum Class Tier II Armored Jumpsuit

Effect: +218 Defense, +14% Resistance to Kinetic and Energy Attacks. +19% Resistance against Temperature changes. Self-Cleanse, Self-Mend, Autofit Enchantments also included.

Silversmith Mark VIII Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 88

Battery Capacity: 13/13

Recharge Rate: 3 per hour per GMU

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Hod�s Triple Fused Armor

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type I Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 39

Battery Capacity: 41/41

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 397

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 350/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Enchanted, Reinforced Toothy Throwing Knives (5)

Base Damage: 238

Enchantments: Return, Mana Blade (+28 Damage), Pierce (-7% defense)

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

The Brumwell necklace of shadow intent is the hallmark item of the Brumwell Clan. Enchanted by a Master Crafter, this necklace layers shadowy intents over your actions, ensuring that information about your actions are more difficult to ascertain. Ownership of such an item is both a necessity and a mark of prestige among settlement owners and other individuals of power.

Ring of Greater Shielding

Max Duration: 7 Minutes

Charges: 1

Simalax Hover Boots (Tier II)

Duration: 1.98 SI Hours.

F�Merc Nanoswarm Mana Grenades (Tier II)

The F�Merc Nanoswarm Grenades are guaranteed to disrupt the collection of Mana in a battlefield, reducing Mana Regeneration rates for those caught in the swarm. Recommended by the I�um military, the Torra Special Forces and the No.1 Most Popular Mana Grenade as voted by the public on Boom, Boom, Boom! Magazine.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates and spell formation in affected area by 37% ((higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 10m x 10m

Daghtree�s Legendary Ring of Deception (Tier I)

A musician, poet and artist, Daghtree�s fame rose not from his sub-standard works of �art� but his array of seduction Skills from his Heartthrob Artist Class. Due to his increasing infamy, Daghtree commissioned this Legendary ring to change his appearance and continue Leveling. In the end, it is rumored that his indiscretions caught up with the infamous artist and he disappeared from Galactic sources in GCD 9,275

Effect: Creates a powerful disguise that covers the wearer. The ring comes with six pre-loaded disguises and additional disguises may be added through expansion of charges

Duration: 1 day per charge

Charges: 3

Recharge via ambient Mana: 1 charge per Galactic Standard Unit per week

F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal Grenades (Tier I)

The F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal

Grenades not only disperse Mana in the battlefield, the Ghostlight Dispersal Grenades degrade all Mana Skills and spells within its field of effectiveness. Used by Krolash the Destroyer, the Erethran Champion Isma (prior version) and Anblanca Special Forces. Five times Winner of the Most Annoying Utility Item on the Battlefield.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates, Skill and spell formation use in affected area by 67% ((higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 15m^3^

Evernight Darkness Orbs

When the world goes light, the Evernight Darkness Orbs will bring back blessed darkness. If you need darkness, you need Evernight!

Effect: Removes al visible light and mute infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths by 30%

Radius: 50m^3^

Seven Heavenly Spire Wards

Quick to set-up, the Seven Heavenly Spire Wards were crafted by the Thrice Loved Bachelor�s Temple of the Sinking Domain as their main export. Using the total prayer and faith of the temple, they produce a set of wards every month.

Effect: Set�s up a 30� by 30� defensive ward; protects against both magical and technological attacks and entry

Fumikara Mobile Teleport Circles

These one-off use mobile teleport circles allow connection to existing and open teleport networks.

Effect: Connect to open teleport networks within a 5,000 kim radius of the teleport circles. Allows teleportation of individuals to the networked teleport centers

PoenJoe Goleminised-Mana Generator Mark 18

Effect: It�s a Power Generator. Guaranteed to provide up to 98 x 10*99 Standard Galactic Mana Units

*Not actually guaranteed. In fact, we�re 100% certain that containment failure will occur.

Payload (Level 2) (Embeded in Anklet of Dispersed Damage)

Sometimes, you need to get your Skills inside a location. Payload allows you to imbue an individual or item with a Skill at a reduced strength.

Effect: 71% effectiveness of Skill imbued.

Secondary Effect: Skill may be now triggered on a timed basis (max 2:07 minutes)

Uses: 22

Recharge: 10.7 charges per day in SGE

Table of Contents

What Has Gone Before

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

Author�s Note

About the Author

About the Publisher

Books in The System Apocalypse Universe

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Grand Paladin Skills

Junior Administrator Skills

Other Class Skills

Spells

Equipment

Broken Council: A Space Opera, Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG (The System Apocalypse Book 10) Tao Wong

Broken Council

Book 10 of the System Apocalypse

Tao Wong

License Notes

Broken Council

A Tao Wong Book

Published by Starlit Publishing

69 Teslin Rd

Whitehorse, YT

Y1A 3M5

Canada

www.starlitpublishing.com

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-989994-45-0

Print ISBN: 978-1-989994-46-7

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-989994-47-4

Contents

What Has Gone Before

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Author�s Note

About the Author

About the Publisher

Books in the System Apocalypse Universe

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Grand Paladin Skills

Junior Administrator Skills

Other Class Skills

Spells

Equipment

What Has Gone Before

John Lee has come a long way fom his mountain campsite in the Yukon when the System first initiated on Earth. He�s helped stabilize Earth�s politics, travelled across the galaxy and, in his latest adventure, helped the Erethran Empire choose its next Empress.

Along the way, he�s continued his search for an answer to the first Quest he ever received � What is the System.

At the end of his recent adventure, he achieved a new height of power, a Heroic Class. Except, unknown to most, is the fact that his Heroic Class shown to all � Grand Paladin � is but a ruse, a lie for what he truly gained. For John found a Hidden Class, that of a Junior Administrator of the System.

It�s a secret with dire implications and those who would keep it hidden have already acted, attacking Earth�s embassy on Irvina, the capital of the Galaxy.

Chapter 1

The Portal opens five hundred sixty meters in the air. When I step through it, I free-fall. Beneath me, the herd of L�liest CaTues cover the ground like the bison herds of yore, their mottled brown and green skin hiding the trampled earth beneath.

The L�liest are six-legged scaled behemoths whose bellows reach me high above, as does the never-ceasing pounding of their feet. They�re tiny figures to my eyes, belying their actual size tens of meters tall and half as wide. Spirals of razor-sharp spikes, dripping with poison, jut from their bodies in a vicious pattern. From their six-eyed, conical faces, roars of dissatisfaction and grunts of anger erupt in rhythmic regularity as they search for prey.

In the distance, the earth shakes and rocks dance on cracked, sun-baked pale-yellow clay. The desolate vista is broken by the occasional glimpse of purple cacti. Around me, as I plummet, the sky is lit with the pale-yellow light of the dying sun, a massive thing in the last couple of million years of its life.

A surge of will and I call forth their Status information.

L�liest CaTues (Level 187)

HP: 18,736/18752*

MP: 2457/2457

Conditions: Hardened Skin, Scaled Protection, Poisonous Fog, Acoustic Beat, Power of the Herd*

* Health is shared among all members of the herd, as is damage.

Beside me, as I fall, Ali hovers, cross-legged. My tiny, six-inch-tall Spirit companion is clad in his usual orange jumpsuit. Skin the color of tanned wood, with a sculpted goatee, his fingers play across invisible screens as we plummet.

�You know, I�m sure you�ve done dumber things in the past. But I am forgetting them��

�It�s the pressure. I�ve done a lot dumber things,� I reassure Ali. Even as I speak, I�ve split my attention enough to begin the process of calling forth my Skills. I start with the simple ones.

Soul Shield for protection.

A Thousand Blades to give me access to copies of my Soulbound sword.

Aura of Chivalry for the damage bonus and intimidation effect.

Eye of the Storm to concentrate their focus on me.

The Evolved Penetration Skill to give me a secondary shield defense.

Then I kick on my Hoverboots and float. The creatures below are trumpeting their dissatisfaction, my Soul Shield shimmering as their audio attacks slam into it. I�m not in my Hod right now, the power armor stored away. Replacing it would be expensive, and between my evolved Penetration Skill shielding and Soul Shield, I should be safe enough.

Lastly, to add shielding points to my Penetration Skill, I call forth a Beacon of the Angels. The ritual glyph forms in the air, a circular oval of light showering the herd with pure, unadulterated energy.

L�liest CaTueses crisp beneath the azure glow of formed energy, scales cracking, poison mists burning away. They thrash and scream as a damage counter in the corner of my vision ticks up.

Beacon of the Angels is an area effect Skill, a near-perfect Skill for dealing with the horde. Near perfect since the radius of damage is insufficient as portions of the damage dealt are split between the entirety of the herd. Those caught outside see a small blip down, tens of hit points before their natural regeneration pops them back up.

Individual L�liest caught within the attack take more damage as only a portion of the damage is transferred. But their resistances, their Levels are high enough that I�d have to keep spamming the Skill to take out a single L�liest.

All this takes place in fractions of a second.

I hover, watching the effects of my attack�or the lack of them�and end up shaking my head. There�s a reason the L�liest have managed to survive this long and overrun an entire planet. Built up to this level, Power of the Herd is an insane Skill to overcome. You either have to get a whole army hammering at them in multiple assault locations to drive down the hit points of the entire herd or�

Well.

Me.

But for now, I take my time. Spell buffs are cast, just the basics. Health and Mana Regeneration, some physical damage resistance. An Elemental damage spell boost to add a little punch. And that�s about it.

There are other buffs that might work and wouldn�t directly conflict with the buffs I already have. I could even have asked for them from the fleet hanging around in space above. But then I�d have to share the XP. And it wouldn�t be a proper test of what I can do alone.

So.

Me, by myself, to start. Until I tear down enough of the monster herd�s health that it makes sense for the fleet to get involved. I watch the living carpet of scales and furious six-legged monsters, a writhing, heaving mass of anger, and find myself grinning.

There were other options. Other ways of doing this.

Considering everything over the last few months, everything that happened since Katherine�s call, letting loose feels right. That I gain the support of the Erethran Empire as a by-product is a nice bonus.

�You know, cackling madly to yourself isn�t normally considered normal, boy-o,� Ali says.

�Bite me.�

To punctuate my point, I raise my hand and call forth the first of my untested Skills.

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force (Level 1)

A Paladin cannot be stopped. A Paladin cannot be moved. A Paladin is a force of the Erethran Empire on the battlefield. This Skill exemplifies this simple concept. Let all who doubt the strength of the Paladin tremble!

Use: User must select to be an Immovable Object or Unstoppable Force. Effect varies depending on choice. Skill combines with Aura of Chivalry to provide a smaller (10% of base effect) bonus to all friendlies within range.

Effect 1 (Immovable Object): Constitution, Health, and Damage Resistance (All) increased by 200% of User�s current total. All knockback effects are mitigated (including environmental knockback effects).

Effect 2 (Unstoppable Force): Agility, Movement Speed, Momentum, and Damage Calculations based off Momentum increased by 200% of User�s current total. Damage from other attacks increased by 100%. Only active while user is moving.

Cost: 5MP/s

I only put a single point in this because I wanted to reach Domain. I�d even gone so far as to spend my Credits�okay, the Empire�s Credits�to get this Skill level.

Now, I�m curious how it would affect things. A surge of energy sent a simple Firestorm spell down into the midst of the monsters, in the same area where I�d launched my initial attack.

�So?� I ask Ali. I�d rather do that than run the math myself.

�Nowhere near enough.�

�I was hoping for a little more detail,� I mutter.

�Really? You really want to know the math? Fine. The L�liest have a base fire resistance of 287% with their Power of the Herd Skill boosting that by another 63%. However, you�ve got a 90% Penetration Skill, allowing you to disregard all but 46.781% of that damage resistance. Now, your Firestorm does approximately a thousand points of base damage, which means you are dealing on average 532.19 points of fire damage,� Ali lectures me. �But that�s if you land a head-on strike, which excludes mitigating maneuvers, dodges, et cetera.

�Which, luckily for us, the L�liest are too dumb to do. So, 532.19 points of fire damage is applied to their hit points, which is doubled by Unstoppable Force. However, you have to include critical damage strikes to those that didn�t blink, minus those that did, add in the base regeneration levels they all have, take away crowding effects��

�Enough, I get it,� I say, waving. �We�re doing around a thousand plus points of damage to the L�liest or so, but they�ve got eighteen thousand points just base. And that�s not including them shaving off a chunk for the rest of the herd.�

�Exactly,� Ali says. �You aren�t doing enough.�

�That figures,� I say.

It�s one of the reasons why I bought the damn Skill direct from the System. It�s not good enough for a lone fighter like me. If combined with the Aura Skill in the front of an army, that ten percent boost would be amazing. Split across thousands, and if those thousands were elites?

Either way, not my problem. I call forth the next Skill. It forms around me, seeming to twist the atmosphere by its very presence. I feel the Mana around me warp, change as my Skill takes it in-hand and make reality bend to its will. Immediately, I feel the Domain Skill working on me.

Domain (Level 1)

With chains that bind, and threads that extend from one to another, a Paladin is the center of events. In his Domain, enemies will break and allies will bend knee. Let the enemies of the Empire tremble before a Paladin with his Domain.

Effect 1: All enemy combatants receive -10% attribute decreases, a +10% increase in Mana cost, and lose 25 HP per second while within range of the Domain.

Effect 2: All allies receive a +10% increase in health regeneration, a 10% increase in attribues, and a reduction of -10% in Mana cost (semi-stackable) while within range of the Domain.

Range: 10 Meters

Cost: 500 Mana + 5 Mana per Second

One of the biggest aspects of Domain is its significantly lower upkeep cost. For example, my Eye of the Storm costs me a ridiculous 20 Mana per second, which leaves me using it only occasionally to draw attention and keep the focus of enemies on me for a short period. As a taunt Skill, it�s incredibly wasteful, other than its ability to affect multiple individuals at a time. Then again, it costs so much because it is a taunt Skill, since direct affect Skills on emotional and mental states are more expensive than physical effect Skills.

Whereas Domain, I could theoretically keep running constantly. Its upkeep is low enough that my natural regeneration leaves me able to keep it active, though obviously, I have fewer options if I do so.

Unfortunately, its range is pretty short, and it doesn�t stack damage effects. While it increases my base attributes, it doesn�t increase my Mana regeneration at all.

�All right, let�s try this again anyway,� I mutter.

Another Beacon of the Angels hammers the angry herd below. Ali watches the damage logs while I wait for my Mana to regenerate. I idly throw a Firestorm too when Ali bitches about messing with test results.

Now, you might be thinking, that�s great and all, but why isn�t the giant fleet in orbit showering kinetic weapons and beam attacks down onto the herd below? My Beacon of the Angels is pretty powerful, but it�s hard to compete with orbit-launched kinetic weaponry. Even with the penalties that the System places upon pure tech, there�s still something to be said about a gravity-drawn half-ton of mass.

There are a few reasons, as always. There�s the issue of lost XP. Launching orbital bombardments on monsters is damn safe, so it means that the System reduces the XP gain quite a lot. In a world where everyone wants more experience to go up in Levels, no one wants to waste it.

But more importantly, the System doesn�t let it happen. Oh, you can still drop giant rocks, and if you�ve got the Skills, you can do damage. But the farther away you are from entering a planet�s boundary, the greater the mass of Mana you have to push through. The greater the amount of Mana�and Mana generally is denser the closer you get to the surface�the greater the damage reduction.

Again, tossing planet killers or other orbital strikes around is still possible, but the cost and time taken in many cases is incredibly high.

As importantly, you need to have backup options�individuals on the ground to deal with the sudden increase in spawning as the attacks and subsequent deaths release a bunch of unruly System Mana. Without sapients on the ground to soak up the Mana, you have a different problem�unchecked Mana mutations. And those mutations often result in some truly scary monsters�the kind that can fire back at orbiting spaceships.

It wasn�t always like this. At one point, it was possible to unleash a ton of nukes and kinetic strikes and then mop up a little. But thousands of years ago, so far back that most people don�t even realize it, that changed. It was one of the first major changes in the way the System worked.

M: �this change in damage done via technology makes no sense. The Council should not be choosing to do this, not when we need to keep our planets from being overrun.

J: Agreed. This can�t be the Council�s doing.

K: Then who? The Council controls the System.

M: I think that�s why we have the System Quest. To find out who controls the System, really.

J: I disagree. If it meant that, it should have said so. Not ask what the System and Mana itself is.

�

The memory from the library surfaces, detailed correspondence from a time so long ago, humanity was still beating each other with sticks and huddling around a fire. It sweeps me away for a second before I wrestle the memory under control.

I�m getting better at controlling the uncontrolled release of information into my brain. The Corrupt Questor�s library, the entire damn repository of their knowledge squeezed into my brain and then encrypted. The encryption has been breaking down, and with it, additional secrets are coming to the fore.

�Are you done yet? Some of us are getting impatient here,� Bolo�s voice cackles over the communicator.

I grunt, almost imagining the seven-foot-tall alien with his ram-horns glowering at my image. �Soon. Hold your� dragons.�

�Why would I hold my dragons? Do you think we do not take good care of them?� Bolo growls. �That�s a lie! Any dragon the Knights take control of are well cared for. Who told you��

I kill the communicator, focusing on my next Skill. This is the big one from the Master Class that I wanted to try. It�s a pity I failed to Evolve it, but that�s the risk you run.

Judgment of All (Level 6)

An Emperor might sit in judgment of those who defy them, but a Paladin sits in judgment of all who fall before his gaze. Desire bends and debases itself. Duty shatters under the weight of ever-greater burdens. Morality shifts under the winds of circumstance. In the eyes of those he serves, a Paladin�s judgment must be impeccable. Under his gaze, those underserving will fall. So long as his honor holds true, judgment will follow.

Effect: Skill inflicts (Erethran Reputation*$HonSysCal*1.5 = 442) points of on-going Mana damage to all judged unworthy within perception range of user.

Duration: 65 seconds

Cost: 1000 MP

I�ve never used the Skill before, but this seems to be the perfect place to try. I tap the portion of my mind that hosts the Skill, that slotted bundle of calculations that the System has imparted to me. I reach within, feeling the connection to the System, the portion it has dedicated to me and this Skill.

I trigger it, feeling Mana gush through my body, into the System to set the system running as Judgment of All activates. The world twists and bucks, turning grey and black, figures beneath me, above me, through my communicator and through the very threads that bind me to others activating.

And I know, with just a gentle push, I could make the Skill affect them all. Anyone I perceive, that I can sense, I can injure with this Skill. No matter the range, no matter the distance. I could kill with naught but a thought.

The people who are after my friends, the Council, the bounty hunters and the fighters who have attacked us, the merchants and petty criminals who cheated us. The fools in their corporations and Guilds who blocked us. I could kill them all just by letting the System know they are unworthy. Kill them with an activation of the Skill.

And a twist of the System.

I shut down that line of thought.

Hard.

I let the Skill run as it is meant to. Taking my physical senses, my hearing, my sight, the targets that the System and Ali have marked within range of me. And it shoves power down through the very same connection the System has formed with each of them.

Weaponizing itself.

For those without my Skill, without my Class, the show is just as spectacular. I glow as I float high above, like a wrathful god come down to lay his petty grievances upon the unworthy. All caught within the effect find themselves irradiated, glowing from within and without.

Skin, scale, and flesh crack, light spilling out from within. System-regeneration wars with the damage the Skill provides. L�liest burn from within, and even the herd�s Skill can�t shunt the damage aside fast enough. Hundreds of monsters fall, bellowing as they die. Experience notifications roll in without end, and I ignore them all.

Deep within, I stare as the System itself strains to deal with all the deaths. Mana, released from the dead monsters, gushes into the atmosphere. Some�a small portion�slides into the System itself, disappearing to places I cannot follow.

The rest escapes into the world while the System struggles to calculate and divvy damage, life and death, to all those within range. The planet itself bends and twists as the System struggles, released Mana searching for a place to deposit itself.

Some finds its target in me as experience, though the way it enters me and boosts me feels� different. Other streams of Mana find creatures too small for me to have noticed before. Forcing mutations, forcing growth. Cacti twist and expand, insects balloon in size, and leylines draw the rest away to dungeons throughout the planet.

In the corner of my mind, I note friends and allies curse and exclaim. A Paladin�s ultimate combat Skill is something that has not been seen in hundreds of years. And though the Erethrans might not hold me in the highest regard, I still hold some place in their culture, in their litany of legends.

And I�ve yet to call forth the best Skills.

***

It takes a while for the L�liest herd to resume their journey. Even as I fly to the nearest unharmed portion, the herd is disquieted, concerned by the first attack that has managed to harm them in decades. I�ve killed a noticeable percentage of the L�liest and they are wary now, in the way prey are when they know they�re being hunted. But they have to move or be crushed by those behind, so they eventually resume their never-ending journey away from the dungeon that first created them.

Beneath my feet, Ali flickers from point to point, his form split into multiple tiny copies. He scoops up the loot, dumping it in my storage, shunting it via Portals into a pile when we run out of space. His latest trick is amusing and potentially useful.

Even if he�s only used it to spy on sapients while they�re showering thus far.

�Are all final Master Class Skills that powerful?� Mikito asks over the comms, sounding intrigued rather than scared like many who shouted in my ear before. The Advanced Samurai is my most loyal supporter, though I doubt she understands the full extent of what happened. Hell, I don�t either. That sudden surge of megalomania� now that I�m not riding the high, I�m certain it�s not as easy as I thought to abuse my Skill. �Or is that just��

�The Paladins�?� I shrug. �In a way. This is based off Reputation in the Empire. Before I came here, if I had picked this up, it would have done maybe a couple hundred points. Now��

�Now, it�s an army killer,� Bolo rumbles. �Yes. The Lords of the Flight have a similar Skill. Beast Lords do too, though some draw from the power of their pack. A double-edged Skill.� I hear a pounding sound, and I imagine Bolo thumping himself in the Chest. �A true Dragon Lord does not require such base Skills. Strength comes from within the individual.�

�What he means is that Dragon Lords are geared toward individual strength rather than army-destroying Skills,� Brerdain says. The Chief of Staff for the Erethran Navy is with us, a courtesy addition to keep us out of trouble. Well, that and run the fleet we�ve brought along. I imagine the portly Admiral sneering at Bolo when he isn�t looking.

�Then my Master Class Skill�� Mikito says.

�Probably closer to Bolo�s than mine.� Then I frown, remembering aspects of her Skill. �Though I don�t know. The Samurai Skillset is��

�Different. A servant-Class based off their lord�s potential, rather than their own,� Harry says. The smooth, dulcet tones of the British War Reporter�s voice slides into the conversation. �Not unique, bur uncommon for sure. Few care to tie themselves in so tightly. Potentially extremely powerful, but like yours, also circumstantial.�

�Bah. Let me down and I shall show you true strength!� Bolo says. I imagine him drumming his fingers on his hammer, though I doubt he�s taken it out on the bridge they�ve been watching me from. That would be too rude, even for him.

�Calm yourself, Dragon Lord. The Paladin desires to test his Skills,� Brerdain says.

�I would like some experience too,� Mikito says.

�Crazy combat monkeys,� Harry mutters.

Bolo growls. �We cannot gain experience by standing around recording the Paladin�s actions, unlike some.�

�Maybe, but I know patience.�

�Patience! I have shown much patience, all these weeks!�

�Enough, you two,� I say. I�m over another large herd. Big enough, among the rolling hills that look like tiny bumps beneath my feet, for the following Skill to work. More than sufficient. �One more only.�

Two. But they don�t need to know the second. In fact, they�re better off not knowing the second. At least for now.

�Last Skill. Grand Cross,� I announce.

I reach within, touching the bundle of information, and let it flow. Only a single point� but the effects are as spectacular as my Judgment of All.

***

The crater that lies before me is impressive in a truly disturbing way. I�d let the Skill expand to its maximum limit, though I know I could also compress it so that it becomes a single-person attack too. One of the advantages of a Heroic Class Skill is that it�s a lot more flexible by design.

The crater is tens of kilometers wide and at least a couple of kilometers deep. The earth is compressed, minor hills flattened as though a titan had pushed a seal upon the earth and all those beneath it. Once again, another rush of experience. Again, that feeling of wrongness, of unsettlement as that experience resides� somewhere. Somewhere wrong.

Beneath me, dead L�liest and a scorched earth. Around me, Portals open, landing craft screaming down to the ground as Erethran soldiers deploy, feet touching upon the new planet, the first sapients in decades since its abandonment.

They pour out, weapons out, taking position and setting up moving shield walls. Specialized ships land and transform, artillery ships transforming as they hide behind the shield generators, already receiving instructions from orbital spotters. Mana flows as specialized buffing units throw out spells, catching me as an afterthought while the Erethran army gets to work.

In another corner of the planet, I sense my friends stepping onto the planet. Party chat flickers to life, connections firming, and then fade as they stride into the bowels of hell itself to suppress the former capital city�s dungeon. The source of all the trouble.

I consider joining them. Briefly.

But I can offer them just as much, if not better, aid out here. I get moving, taking the fight to the L�liest CaTues herd. With troops on the ground, I drop everything but my shields and utilize Judgment of All again and again. Ali�s confirmed it�s the most Mana efficient Skill, at least against the L�liest.

I get to work, and if I�m paying attention to something else, to a Skill that has been humming along in the background, one that almost begs me to make use of it. No one but Ali and myself need know.

Or should.

After all, its very existence and my hidden Class pit us again the Galactic Council itself.

System Edit

A core Skill for System Administrators.

Effect: Make trivial to minor amendments to System processes

Cost: Variable (HP & MP)

Chapter 2

Clean up of the planet Gurrant took just under an Earth week. Of course, that worked out to about eleven days with the faster rotation on Gurrant and a tiny fraction of its year. The L�liest herd had grown unchecked for over a decade, spreading across the super-continent that made up the overly dry landmass of the planet.

�We could have beaten the Dungeon,� Bolo says, arms crossed as he glares at me. The seven-foot-tall, ripped Dragon Lord is complaining�again�as we stand around the remnants of the dungeon entrance. Over his shoulder is the over-sized hammer he uses, the emerald scalemail glinting in the light with every breath.

All around us, drones and Erethran army personnel work to clear out the remains of the monsters. It�s rather intimidating, when you think about it, how much has been destroyed. One of the first things to land was the Quartermaster Station, which has an abbreviated System Shop that allows people to funnel in entire corpses to be sold off.

At the same time, a growing manufactured city has sprung up, where automated factories and Artisan butchers and leatherworkers are tearing apart the L�liest. They extract scales, organs, meat, and bones with gusto. Everything is being used, with even the most damaged parts being stored for composting. It�s a massive undertaking, but it all goes off without a major hitch.

System communications, extremely organized personnel, and Classes help provide a level of efficiency that no pre-System human army could ever hope to achieve. Not that I�d ever expected to see an abattoir on a battlefield.

�I�m sure you could have,� I say, �but hogging all the experience was getting a little much.�

�Hogging?� Bolo frowns, cocking his head to the side. �There were no pigs involved.�

�Seriously. Buy a new English pack.� I can�t help but shake my head, always amused when the cultural assimilation portion breaks down. I�m not exactly sure who Bolo downloaded, but there are very strange gaps in his understanding at times.

�Or you could speak Galactic, and stop being rude to our hosts,� Bolo says with a finality that makes it sound as if he�s won this fight.

Ali chuckles as he continues to multitask, paying attention to what is being taken apart by the army and making sure we�re getting our share of the earnings while also watching a Monty Python sketch.

�There�s no one else here, not even Mikito,� I point out.

That�s true enough, since the Samurai was teleported off for another arena battle. This time she has acquired a sponsor, someone willing to pay for the expensive teleportations to ensure she is included in a number of such fights around the galaxy. Truth be told, she probably could have taken part in a lot more battles if it wasn�t for the fact that she spends most of her time hanging out with me.

A galaxy is a big place, and arena fights are extremely common. In fact, Mikito�s collected a wide array of championship Titles. The fact that most of those Titles don�t provide much of a boost to her is offset by the occasional one that does. Add the fact that Titles can conflict�and might not stack�and chasing after them is a select and expensive sport.

Still, according to Mikito, with enough Titles, they could consolidate, providing her another boost to attributes, damage, and if she�s really lucky, a Skill. Heck, some of the more famous championships have Titles that come with their own Skill.

�Maybe, but we�re not on your backward planet at the moment. It�s polite to use Galactic,� Bolo says in Galactic.

I switch as well, sniffing then regretting doing so. The charnel house smell of thousands of dead animals has not disappeared, making me gag. �Doesn�t really matter anyway. They needed to take out that dungeon to begin the settlement process for the capital. Without stabilizing the Mana flows, we�d never be able to retake this planet.�

�True, though one wonders about the Dungeon Master. Must have been insane to focus the entirety of the capital�s Mana overflows into a single dungeon, especially when the capital was as extensive as it was.� Bolo shakes his head. �Even I know better than to do that.�

I shrug. Whatever the Dungeon Master�s sins or hubris, he has paid the final price. As did most of the population that didn�t manage to find a method off planet. Luckily, in a System world, that is relatively easy, especially in a state of emergency. Bindings like serf contracts, System regulated teleportations, and the high cost of interplanetary ships are relaxed.

Of course, to some extent, that just shifts the emergency from the surface of the planet to near space. Hundreds of ships overloaded with sapient passengers launched to escape the L�liest. And then, many found themselves stranded, unable to reach the next habitable planet.

Finally, the Empire stepped in, scooping them up and throwing the vast majority of them into serf contracts to pay out the costs of the rescue. Still, between forced servitude for a number of years and certain death, most chose correctly. The few that hadn�t, died.

For the most part.

A coral-eared man strides up to me, barely five feet tall, with blond hair and an angry look. He skips over dead corpses without a care, giving them as much regard as I do, too focused on his objective. Once he arrives, he plants his feet, tilting his head up as he stares at me in his rolled up, castoff Erethran Army uniform.

�I understand you�re the one to thank for saving us,� Ito Karan, the tiny man, says.

I�m not entirely sure how to react, so I nod. He�s the self-selected leader of the survivors, many of whom made their way underground, finding places to hide from the L�liest in the far corners of the continent and beneath it.

They�ve existed below the surface of the planet in holdout rooms and small complexes. Occasionally they popped up long enough to make sure that nothing had changed before returning to their underground prisons. Total survivors are in the thousands, less than one percent of those who chose to stay. Most had not expected to be below ground for so long.

�What took you so long? We expected a rescue mission within months, not decades!� Ito Karan says.

�You�ll have to ask someone else.� I shrug. �I wasn�t around for your initial disaster.�

�But you�re a Grand Paladin, correct?� Ito snaps at me.

�Yes.�

�Then you�re the one in charge. We expect compensation!�

I consider smacking him, I seriously do. This really has nothing to do with me, and I have other, better things to do. Greater worries occupy my mind. But a small part of me is curious to see what he wants. It�s the same part that used to poke at open wounds, or that disturbed ant nests when I was younger. Curious to see what lay below the sand.

So I ask him.

�Credits to start. Enchanted weaponry and privileged access to the dungeons as they are created. In addition, because we�ve lost so many years, we will need trained guides to help us progress.� Ito shows no hesitation as he rattles demands.

He keeps going, but I cut in. �You need my thirdborn son as well?�

�What?� Ito falters, apparently confused.

�All right, all right. You drive a hard bargain. My apprentice has my firstborn, so I can only give you my secondborn. I won�t go any higher.�

�I don�t want your children. What kind of backward society do you come from that you think I want your children?�

Ito sees Ali literally rolling around in mid-air, holding his hands to his mouth as he stifles his laughter. Even Bolo is grinning. It takes Ito a second more to figure out what is going on.

I glance at Ali, who isn�t even bothering to hide his laughter now. �It�s all your fault, you know, you and your Korean dramas.�

�Don�t blame me, it was your culture.�

�Chinese. I�m Chinese, not Korean. I told you that before. And I am a CBC. Canadian-born Chinese, so not really but sort of,� I reply.

Ito�s eyes bulge and he starts shouting, so I flash my aura. He cuts off with a strangled squawk.

�I don�t really know who you think you are, but I don�t really care,� I say. �Order someone else about this.�

�You��

He shuts up when I conjure my sword. Something about a four-foot hunk of steel, sheathed in Mana, dissuades him. I point away from me in a random direction and he walks off. I guess having a bit of a reputation for being an insane, rage-filled monster has advantages at times.

�Well, that was fun?� I say and look around once more.

Hundreds of members of the Erethran armed forces scurry around, some in robotic movers, others physically hauling away the beasts. Others are making roads, marking down locations for buildings, and tossing nanite formers. And in the distance, a familiar figure.

As Brerdain makes his way over, the Chief of Staff glances in the direction of where Ito has walked off to with a frown.

�Did you have to make my work more difficult?� he complains to me, but I notice he�s not making any moves to speak with Ito either.

�The Empress bargained for five planets cleared and cleansed,� I say. �She never said a word about me being polite or dealing with idiots.�

�Some Paladins might consider that part of the unsaid requirements.�

�More pity to them,� I say.

�You do know your attitude carries over to the Paladins you trained. And they are training even more Honor Guards,� Brerdain says, his voice chilly. �Your attitude is��

�Perfect. I know.�

Brerdain fumes for a second before he points upward. �In two hours, we will be ready to depart for the next planet. Make sure you�re ready.�

�Aye aye, sir!� I salute lazily, making the Chief frown. I guess his cultural download package didn�t include Earth military salutes. Erethran salutes are different.

�We will be ready, Honored Strategist,� Bolo says, cutting off any further discussion. �We are truly grateful for this opportunity.�

I snort. The Empire is gaining as much, if not more, with this expedition in retaking lost planets in the Restricted Zone, but I can understand Bolo buttering him up. Most Heroic�or Master Class�individuals would find it difficult to find empty, uncontested planets on which to conduct such an attack. Politics and prior claims mean that most Heroics have to tread carefully and not just blip in and do what they want.

On top of that, this planet is the easiest of the lot. Most overrun locations have a mixture of monsters, including flying and magic-wielding ones. Elemental attacks, flying monsters, and gravitic implosions all make just hovering above the monsters and killing them without any major risk a non-starter. And let�s not forget the fact that it kills your experience gain.

Without aid from the navy, without the benefits of boots on the ground to help quell rogue dungeons, retaking planets would be a fool�s errand. Even blasting apart the swarms of monsters for pure experience becomes an issue when you don�t have places to rest, to recuperate when a battle goes bad.

Never mind the long, long list of enemies waiting for your usual Heroic to waste their Mana, to lower their guard for a second. It�s why such purges are rarer than you�d think. At least, on a Galactic scale.

�If we only have a few hours�� Bolo falls silent, looking around.

I snort and wave him away, letting him loose. Having gained his Levels the hard way, Bolo�s got to grind a lot more than me to get anywhere. And while we might have taken out the main dungeon finally, there are still a ton of monsters constantly spawning.

Once Bolo rushes away, kicking up dirt and blood in his wake, I�m left alone. Alone, without monsters trying to kill me, in a charnel house of corpses and the collapsed end of the city dungeon.

***

While I wait, I look over my Character Screen. It�s the first chance I�ve had to look at it since the battle ended. Even with all the death and destruction, I only got a couple of Levels.

More interestingly, that weird feeling about experience gain jumps out at me, displayed easily for me to spot on my Status Screen. If I wasn�t so aware I�m in public view, my jaw would have dropped as I stare at the information.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Junior System Admin (Grand Paladin)

Race

Human (Male)

Level

1 (4)

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter, Corrupt Questor, (Living Repository), (Class Lock)

Health

5450

Stamina

5450

Mana

5140

Mana Regeneration

459 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

385

Agility

458

Constitution

545

Perception

324

Intelligence

514

Willpower

559

Charisma

220

Luck

171

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield*

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Shackles of Eternity*

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force*

Domain

Judgment of All

(Grand Cross)

(1)

System Edit

External Class Skills

Instantaneous Inventory

Frenzy

Cleave

Tech Link

Elemental Strike

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps

Analyze

Harden

Quantum Lock

Elastic Skin

Disengage Safeties

Temporary Forced Link

Hyperspace Nitro Boost

On the Edge

Fates Thread

Peasant�s Fury

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Enhanced Particle Ray

Variable Gravitic Sphere

Zone of Denial

I�ve gained enough Levels as a Grand Paladin that I�ve acquired a new Class Skill point. I can even add it to my Grand Paladin Class�or what acts like my Grand Paladin Class. But I don�t actually have any experience for my Junior System Administrator Class. Like, at all. Which makes no sense.

Unless the System Administrator Class doesn�t gain experience via the destruction of monsters or sapients. Which would be incredibly rare. Not unheard of�there are Classes like Pacifist or Fellow of the Universe that can�t gain experience via murder�but they�re truly rare. Like, I can recall maybe a dozen off the top of my head�and I�ve got the Questor�s library in my head. Hell, even Artisan Classes get experience for kills.

Still, here I am, a ton of kills, an entire planet murdered, and I�ve received a portion of the experience and�

Nothing.

If that�s the case, then the Administrator Class must be even more interesting than I thought. Considering I have the entire goddamn library of the Questors�a group so obsessed with the System, they went down some dark roads, and when they ran out of dark roads to go down, they cut down the trees, blasted the mountains, and paved whole new ones into the abyss�that�s saying something.

It�s saying something even more that over tens of thousands of years, there�s no record of this position ever. Then again, the fact that the moment I gained the Class the Galactic Council went after Earth is more than sufficient evidence for me to scream cover up.

But�

My System Quest hasn�t ticked up. Even as more and more information washes over me from the library, even as my new Administrator Class wields the System�s gifted Intelligence to rip apart the library and provide the knowledge in bite-sized chunks, nothing. The silence, the lack of Quest updates is disturbing. Silence, as if I�ve hit a dead end.

But I don�t know why.

I blow out a breath, shake my head, and glare at the Class Skill point I have to use. I have no access to the System Administrator Skill tree�if it even has one. So I�m forced to choose from the Grand Paladin Skill tree.

GRAND PALADIN SKILL TREE

As usual, I don�t have to worry about the second tier for a long time. I�d have to hit Level 26 to gain access to it. While I gain Levels at a decent rate, especially for a Heroic Class, there�s only so much grinding even I can do. Especially when said grinding involves taking out entire planets� worth of monsters.

All that means that each Class Skill point is ever more precious. And it�s not as if I can afford to buy a Heroic Class Skill. Never mind the issue about off-loading activation since I�ve got the damn library in my head, it�s also incredibly expensive. Like, not even our budget from the Erethran Empire is enough kind of expensive.

And this is the kind of budget�drawn down over decades of negligence, admittedly�that is taxed over multiple solar systems and billions upon billions of Erethran citizens. It�s the kind of budget that let me spend on building up the newbie Paladins without much concern.

And a single Heroic Class Skill would wipe out the budget for the year.

I guess it makes sense. Each Class Skill is so powerful, continents get shredded with their use. If the System made it cheap, it�d be forced to constantly expend more Mana to trigger the effects of the Skill than it would have gained by forcing said Heroic Class to grind for the Credits. So the System has to make the Skill exorbitantly expensive, such that even wiping out a whole planet�s worth of monsters is insufficient to buy a single Skill.

It�s a logarithmic increase in Credits, such that a Heroic Class might grind for a decade or so before they could afford a single Skill on the first tier. Which means, in that period, he�s pulled forth thousands of points of Mana and even more has been recirculated through the System, making it a net surplus.

And that assumes the Heroic even cares to grind. There are other ways to earn Credits of course. For example, just by existing on a planet, a Heroic is often sufficient deterrent against most kinds of shenanigans.

But none of that really matters, not to me. Right now, I�ve got to choose what kind of Skill to pick.

Grand Cross is powerful, and I know with a little push, I could expand the tens of kilometers the initial Skill range has set wider. Of course, it�d weaken the Skill further, but it�s a great mass stomper. Even more powerful than Judgment of All in sheer damage, plus it works against environmental obstacles. More damage per Mana spent, and more focused damage.

But I don�t need more damage. Not anymore. The ability to concentrate the attack on a single individual via Grand Cross is important for me, but if I�m punching my way through a fight with the Council, I�m already twenty kilometers from the nearest shelter in a Yukon winter in my pajamas.

Which is why, while I eye Defense of the Fallen, I decide against it too. It�s definitely on my list of things to pick up eventually, because unlike my evolved Penetration Skill, there�s no warmup required for its shielding properties. It�s actually a permanent Skill, increasing my overall tankiness.

But� again, if I�m punching my way out of the problem, I�m on the wrong route. There are literal Legendary Classes in the Inner Council. I can�t even hope to beat them.

The only good news is that because they are Legendarys, they won�t take action directly. After all, the President of the United States doesn�t come out to visit a rabble-rouser in a city just because they show up in the president�s briefing reports. The president has better things to do�like dealing with other heads of state.

But that advantage only holds so long as I manage to stay far enough below the radar. Once I make too much noise, they�ll likely take direct action and smack me around. And then it�ll truly be over.

So back to Skills, since I ain�t buying Defense of the Fallen, I definitely can�t get the linked Skill. Burden of the Worthy is an interesting Skill that basically dumps damage onto my doppelgangers created by Extra Hands. It makes me much more unkillable.

And unlike most Skills, the doppelgangers in Extra Hands are real. Not ghosts like the ones that Hod makes, not semi-solid constructs or even shadow copies with a portion of my Skills. They�re real.

Extra Hands (Level 1)

A Paladin can never be everywhere he needs to be. But with this Skill, the Grand Paladin can certainly cover more ground. Mana Regeneration reduced by 5 permanently.

Cost: 5000 Mana per duplicate.

Upkeep cost: 5000 Mana per day per duplicate. Must be paid by original Skill user.

Effect: Creates maximum two duplicates of the user. Duplicates have 90% of all (unboosted) Attributes, gain no effects from Titles, and may not equip Soulbound weapons but have access to all (non-purchased) Skills of user. Each duplicate has their own Mana pool but regenerates at 50% of normal regeneration levels. Mana levels take the place of health points for duplicates.

Original Skill user has a nonverbal connection to duplicates at all times. System will provide a download of duplicate�s memories upon their destruction or cessation of upkeep costs. Fidelity of memory download dependent upon Skill level.

Note: This Skill cannot be used by duplicates.

My eyes narrow at the significant number of conditions in the Skill, but even then, having multiple versions of me is useful. I do recall the cautionary words passed on by Ali and Roxley about the System duplicate attempts though, so before I make my choice, I get to asking.

�How does the System create these duplicates? I thought you said it doesn�t read memories?�

�It doesn�t. The duplicates are Mana copies of you based off the System�s best guesses,� Ali says. �Keep them around long enough and they�ll even form distinct personalities from you. It�s why most individuals with such Skills dismiss the doppelgangers every few days.�

�So when you say best guesses��

�Everything you�ve shown the System, it�ll show. In your case, they�ll eat a lot of chocolate, obsess over the System, and piss off everyone they come into contact with.�

�Funny.�

�But true.�

�Go watch your reality TV,� I say to Ali and turn back to the floating notification window.

It sounds as though Extra Hands isn�t the best Skill if I want long-term help. Memories and studies brush against my mind, offering further details about similar Skills.

The more data the System has, the better. The level of fidelity to the original increases for individuals who aren�t as devious, while schemers and liars have difficulty with such Skills. The more you live with your heart in the open, the easier it is for the System to create people like you. Individuals who play multiple angles, who have significant mood swings or mental issues, or have spent significant periods in the Restricted Zone are all known to receive divergent doppelgangers.

It�s one of the most often quoted examples of how the System isn�t omnipotent. More than one Questor has even explored the possibility of using duplicates to further their System Quest by rereading the same information with duplicates themselves.

Sometimes it even works.

And we won�t even discuss the truly disturbing research some have conducted on their very own duplicates to prove the difference in System-made duplicates and the original.

On the other hand, this is the only Skill that offers additional tactical and potentially strategic possibilities. I just need to make sure whatever�whoever�I create doesn�t mess things up.

As I�m about to explore my newly acquired Skill, I�m interrupted by a cough. I frown, looking up, and realize I�ve been standing here for over an hour. Mikito�s back, and with her is Brerdain.

�If you�re ready, Grand Paladin�� Brerdain says, gesturing at one of the many attendants with him.

�Yeah, let�s get to it. More planets to cleanse, more experience to gain.�

And hopefully, gain the backing of the Empire. Or at least their neutrality as the Council comes after Earth and me.

Chapter 3

Interstellar travel with the System is weird. You can teleport anywhere with the right Skills or enough Credits. You can even take entire fleets if you have the money to do it. Credits are a power in themselves and can make even a small but prosperous organization lethal.

At the same time, even with the nearly instantaneous travel options available, most travel is conducted via hyperspace jumps and wormholes. The cost of instantaneous transportation is so expensive, it�s only ever used as a strategic resource on a level above individual transportation or for small, high value goods.

And individuals with the Skill to transport entire fleets are in the Heroic level, so that�s another level of rarity. Individuals are easier, but even then, the cost is significant. Which is why evolved Portal Skills are so important�and so easily blocked.

Want to use your teleportation Skills against monsters? You�re good. The vast, vast majority aren�t set up to block that. Want to use it against sapients? Not as easy.

All that is a long way of saying we�re seated in our beige rest room, food splayed out across us on the steel board table, lighting adjusted for human norms as we traverse the interstellar vastness in a faster-than-light spaceship, bouncing from wormhole to wormhole.

Each of us have plates full of food. Even Ali is in his full-sized form, being just over eight feet tall. He, of course, has the most disgusting dish before him�a plateful of squirming bugs, piled high. Bolo�s got three plates and works his way through his carnivore�s delight, while Mikito�s side of the table is much more contained. Not that it stops her from eating as much as the rest of us, just that she does it with a little more grace.

It says something about how long we�ve been in the Galaxy that none of us even blink as Ali pops the squirming bugs into his mouth and chews as though they�re so much popcorn.

�Are you certain that Ambassador Ward is fine?� Harry raises the topic again. This isn�t the first�or last�time he�s asked, and I can understand his concern even if I�m frustrated by it.

�Yes. She�s an Ambassador. They can�t directly hurt her.� I shake my head. �Even hiring mercenaries to destroy the embassy was pushing the letter of the law.�

�The Redeemer speaks truth,� Bolo says. �The Council and Irvina itself could not function if they destroyed the laws once more.�

�Once more?� Harry says, leaning forward, sensing a story there.

�Ancient history. But twice before, the laws regarding the safety of planetary and governmental representatives and the peace of the capital were relaxed or removed. Both times, there were a significant number of casualties among the representatives. It devolved into all-out war among the greater and Inner Council.� Bolo shakes his head. �We lost our inner council seat in the last altercation and the Erethrans took our seat then.�

I grunt, surprised. I�d known there was some minor animosity in there, but considering how little Bolo cared about it, I thought it was a nonissue. This doesn�t sound minor at all.

Spotting my surprise, Bolo waves. �In truth, I think the king was grateful for the loss. We care not for galactic politics. So long as we are left alone to care for our dragons and our planet, it is enough.� Bolo pauses as if he considers something. �Also, without a Legendary to hold the seat, all such power is ephemeral.�

�The Dragon Knights have no Legendarys?� Mikito asks.

�None that are public. The last known Legendary fell two and a half millennia ago during a dragon surge.�

�Dragon surges sound way scarier than a normal monster wave,� I say.

�They are. Dragons grow much faster during that period, going from adolescence to maturity in months instead of decades. Mature dragons become elders and elders become ancients.�

I wince. The last time I met a dragon, it was but a mature dragon�and one that was pregnant and thus underpowered, along with being hampered by the lower Mana density of Earth still being in the transition period. Take away any of those things and I�d have been fucked.

On the other hand, it also means theres a baby dragon�or soon-to-be baby dragon�running around the Yukon somewhere. Curiosity has me poking into the System, and I find myself bookmarking the infosection on baby dragon pics. Nearly as good as cute kitten pics.

�So weird,� I mutter. I push down the library, forcing it not to give me more data about dragon surges, Mana waves, and the System. A part of me�the part that has been boosted by the System�is happy to process that information, but I stay focused on the conversation. �Anyway, Katherine is safe. And some of her staff. They�ve managed to find a location to reside in which has guaranteed their safety.�

�You say that, but I�ve been poking around, and something about the attack made me look at it over again,� Harry says. �I found this guy outside. Watching.�

A gesture, and a floating image forms of a big man clad in gold-edged, emerald plate armor and a flowing cloak, metal covering his body except for his actual face where small tusks jut from his jaw. Pink skin covers his swarthy face with its prominent cheekbones, but it�s the glowing green eyes and wide smirk that catches one�s attention.

�So who is he?� I ask.

�Kasva Dedprom, Champion of the Council, Level 38. Heroic Class. He didn�t take part, but he was watching.� Harry leans forward. �He doesn�t show up outside of the arena battles��Mikito perks up at the mention of her favorite sporting event��in Irvina to protect his Championship Title or a few, special Council meetings. He is their ultimate attack dog. And he was watching the attack.�

�Heroic Class Champion. Damn�� I frown. �And high-Leveled too. I wonder how he gets his experience�� I wait. But for once, the library has nothing to offer me. No direct information at least. I get a ton of knowledge about Champion Classes in general, but nothing specific. Which is fascinating in itself. �He�s probably getting some latent experience gain just hanging around. But it�s possible they keep him running around in a Council-only dungeon.�

�There are rumors of a dungeon in the first district,� Harry confirms.

�A Heroic.� Bolo eyes the figure, tapping at the information Harry shared with us. His actions call up the sparse additional details about Kasva. Not much at all, considering his status and position. �A difficult fight.�

�Well, if he�s not acting directly, we�ll have to worry about him later,� I say.

�And in the meantime, we do what?� Harry says, pointing his fork at me. �I understand you don�t feel strong enough to confront the Council directly, nor is violence the best resort. You are only a new Heroic. But if you intend to delay until you become a Legendary��

�Not the plan.� I shake my head. �The Levels are nice, but it�s the Empire�s involvement or support that�s the reason we�re doing all this. The Council is pressuring Earth, and even if I turn up, I doubt they�ll just stop. Not since we became a bad example.�

�About that�� Harry says.

I ignore him, not wanting to discuss why they dialed the pressure on Earth up to a twelve. Telling him would just make him even more of a target. �We need to rally support for Earth, to stop the vote to remove Earth and the rest of the Dungeon Worlds from participating on the Galactic Council. Which means helping out the Empire. And anyone else who is willing.�

�I can understand the Empire choosing to help, what with you being their Grand Paladin and all, but the others��

�The others will take more convincing,� I say. �I know. Even if we give them the thousand hells, I doubt we alone have enough to convince any of the other Council members to help. Luckily, most Dungeon Worlds are in one empire or another. If we can convince the other empires, help them settle their Dungeon Worlds��

�You think you can get their help?� Harry�s eyes unfocus as his fingers work through the abbreviated information-only Shop he has access to before he nods. �The Movana and Erethran Empires each have two Dungeon Worlds. Including Earth, the Truinnar have two too now. The Dragon has one. The Twelve Clans of the Grimsar have another. There�s another that sits in the center of the warring states that make up the Pooskeen empire. The last four are seated at the edges of a bunch of minor kingdoms, all of whom fight over the Dungeon Worlds among themselves and everyone else.�

�Exactly. Any Dungeon World located in an empire�s area of control could probably drive that empire�s votes to us,� I say. �Being able to control movement of visitors and settlers would be a significant economic, political, and Leveling boon.�

�Which is why the Traditionalists will oppose you. As would the Fist, since they wouldn�t want their members being stymied,� Harry says. �In fact, they were one of the major sources of oppositions the last time, no?�

�Well, when they failed to get Earth for themselves. But if we could get one or two of those four��

A snort rises from Bolo when I say that. �Don�t get ahead of yourself. If you showed up, you�d just be escalating matters.� I frown, and Bolo continues. �You don�t know? Most Heroic Classes aren�t allowed onto Dungeon Worlds without prior negotiation. Not that they care to turn up.�

�What? Why?�

�Because Heroics are the atom bombs of the galaxy,� Mikito says. �You can drop them on your own planets without an issue, but the moment you do it on another power�s, you escalate matters.�

�And Dungeon Worlds are contested zones,� Ali says. �You can�t have Heroics going in and tipping things one way or the other. Or else more Heroics turn up. And then a bunch of promising Advanced and Master Classes die as collateral damage from their fights, and the Dungeon World�s infrastructure gets wrecked and costs every side billions of Credits in lost infrastructure, materials, and investment in their Advanced and Master Classers. Worst, no one wins anyway.�

�For that matter, it�s why Legendarys don�t get involved unless it�s to destroy a planet or two,� Bolo says. �Tradition keeps the System running. It might not be perfect, it might have significant inequalities, but it has grown out from times when no such customs were around and planets were destroyed on the regular. And during those times, the Forbidden Zone grew unrestricted.�

�The Beginning. The Time of Chaos. The First Insurrection. The Flight of Dragons. The Fae Revolution,� Ali intones.

I hold up a hand as the library tugs at each name. �Enough.�

�Library got your tongue?� Ali smirks.

But he does stop, while some pieces of information get downloaded. It�s scattershot, since much of the information is just in reference to the events themselves and is in the earliest portion of the libraries where studies had just begun on the System. More observational than experimental.

�Just� no.� I push aside the buzzing in my mind, finding it easier than ever now. A side benefit of my Class? Or maybe an improvement in my Intelligence? �Anyway, we just need to block the vote on the Dungeon Worlds, not pass a resolution. That�s a lot easier, since the Mana requirement to enact such a change is pretty damn high.�

There are a few nods, since we�ve all downloaded an information pack on how voting works. It�s all done by Mana, with each planet having a set �amount� of Mana that they contribute to the running of the Galactic Council. More established planets, those closer to Forbidden Zones, often have more free processed Mana, so their votes are worth more. New planets have less. A Dungeon World has a ton, but it�s a question of them reaching a threshold amount rather than a specific percentage or number.

�So the Fist will try to get on board, maybe by bribing them with exclusive access to some dungeons on Earth. Somehow. The Traditionalists might not like abstaining from the vote as a whole, but the Movana who do have two Dungeon Worlds will push for us. Katherine had some success aligning with the Edge by giving them access to Earth, and if we can somehow coordinate them, a single Dungeon World they can access would help.� Another snort rises from Bolo as I blow past the ideas of how we�re getting that done, but I keep pressing on. �That leaves the Technocrats, who don�t give a damn really, and the Artisans as blocks.�

�The Artisans will be opposed to it. Less competition on the Dungeon Worlds will see higher prices,� Harry says. �And so will the Edge, no matter what you say. They were willing to go with Earth when it seemed everyone wasn�t willing to push matters. But now that the Inner Council has acted��

I slam my fist down, anger flaring. Harry flinches and I feel a flash of guilt, but I�m still too upset to stop. �I know, damn it. But what else do you expect us to do? We need to get allies on our side, and this is the best option I can think of. If you�ve got a better idea��

�I�m no politician. But have you spoken to Rob?� Harry says, leaning forward. �Or Lana? Roxley? Even Katherine? Anyone?�

My silence is reply enough.

�Exactly,� Harry says. �You�re doing it again. Making plans without asking the rest of us. You aren�t the only one who gives a damn about Earth! And this time, it�s not just your head on the block.� He stands, shaking his head. �Maybe working with the Erethrans makes sense. It probably won�t hurt. But if you want to help Earth, you�re really going to have to talk to them.�

I watch him stalk out, the British gentleman tugging on his jacket as he leaves. I open my mouth then shut it like the doors leading out of the room as he exits. Bolo snorts again.

I round on the Dragon Lord. �You have something to say?�

�Nothing at all, Grand Paladin,� Bolo says, drawling as he says my Class. �I�m just here for the experience.�

I grunt. �Yeah, I thought so.�

I stand, suddenly out of appetite and desire for company. By the time I hit the door, I realize no one has followed me. My lips curl up in disgust, but I say nothing, searching for one of the ship�s training rooms.

I feel the need to destroy something.

***

The smoking ruins of the training room�s short-circuited hard light projectors lie all around me, acrid and toxic smoke wafting from the remnants of the drones I�ve defeated. Some of the drones are nearly twenty feet tall, others no larger than the size of my hand. But they�re all wrecked.

At six foot two and muscular for a human, those twenty-foot-tall, couple-of-ton drones should have been a problem when we clashed sword to pincer. But the System messes with physics and lets you mess with it too, which is why I can just as easily toss one of them one-handed as cut through them with my sword.

I look around, listening to the cackle of flames and the hiss and pop of broken drones attempting to rise, and I grimace. An insistent warning flashes in the corner of my eyes, a warning coming over the functioning speakers as they detail the loss of functionality in the training room.

Sadly, even on a capital ship, they just aren�t set up to handle Heroic Class levels of destruction. Not for hours on end.

The door hisses open behind me, making me turn. In comes Mikito, who eyes the destruction before she tramps in the rest of the way. As she reaches me, a flicker of light by my side warns me of Ali�s presence.

�Tantrum over?� Mikito says.

�Really? You think that�s going to calm me down?� I say. But there�s no heat in it, not anymore.

�I�ve given up trying to calm you down when you�re angry,� Mikito says. In direct contradiction though, she holds up a familiar triangular chocolate bar, one the size of my fist in cross-section.

I snort, but take the peace offering. I strip the cardboard and foil while answering her first question. �Calmer.�

�Good. Then you�re going to tell me why you aren�t contacting the others?� Mikito says.

�You don�t think I�m willing to do everything myself?� I say, lips twisting in sardonic humor.

�For all your overblown sense of responsibility, you�ve never been that egotistical. Not when you helped Lana set up that investment company. Or when you took others out training,� Mikito says, voice dropping. �But you�re trying to do this all yourself. You won�t even speak to us about it. So there�s a reason.�

I grunt. I could contact Earth. But how do you explain, how do you say that the reason everything is broken is because of you? That you�ve let them down, that you brought the entire Galactic Council onto Earth?

Guilt. That�s the reason why I�ve avoided contacting Earth. Guilt, and the hope that they have a solution. Because I can�t find one, not really. Even if I turn up, if I let the Council have me, it won�t stop the ball they�ve started rolling. It won�t unring the bell.

�This is my fault,� I finally say, closing my eyes as I feel the chocolate melt in my mouth. Not wanting to see her face.

�Because you�re a Heroic now?� Mikito says. �You know, it was going to happen at some point. Maybe not this soon for some of the other Champions, but they�re closing in on it. Another few years��

�No. Not that.� I shake my head and open my eyes, whispering, �Or not really.�

�Baka. Stop speaking in riddles.� Mikito�s nose wrinkles, tiny creases appearing on the petite ridge and I wonder if the toxic smells are getting to her. It�s not that bad, only a couple of health points a second.

I open my mouth then shut it. My head turns, looking around the broken training room, considering. The fleet, by virtue of the various navy and army intelligence personnel, is cloaked from most forms of espionage. Then again, considering who we�re going against, I doubt it�s sufficient.

�You can�t speak of it, can you?� Mikito�s legs part as she balances her weight evenly without thought. Readying herself. �What did you do?�

�I��

�Boy-o really can�t say.� Ali floats down to her eye level, hands splayed. �This isn�t the time. Or place.�

�There will be one, yes?� I hesitate, and Mikito pokes me. �Yes?�

�Yes,� I finally grate out. �But if you learn this��

Mikito holds a hand up to stop me. �Blah blah, death, destruction, being hunted, more death. About right?�

�You�re not taking this seriously.�

�Death is not to be feared by a samurai. It will come for all of us, and as such, is no more important than tea.� She looks at the triangle of chocolate in my hand. �Or chocolate.�

�Death, tea, and chocolates. All of equal importance.� I can�t help but laugh a little before breaking off a piece to offer to the Samurai.

�I know you�ll do your best for Earth.� Mikito takes it and stares at me for a second then adds, softly, �But you need to call them. Coordinate.�

I grunt. She�s right. Even if, I fear, whatever we do is ultimately futile, we have to try. Even if I believe that the trying is the trap, that the Council expects me to jump to their rescue. That moving to Irvina is what they want. It�s why I�ve held off, at least for now.

I watch her walk away as I contemplate our situation. She leaves me in the shattered training room, listening to the crackle and pop of malfunctioning machinery. Smaller maintenance drones sneak out of the walls and begin cleanup, now that they consider the training session over.

I sigh, turning to the Spirit who gives me a short but firm nod.

�Contact Earth, will you?� I say.

***

I speak with Rob first, the conversation being held in one of the ship�s many meeting rooms. This one�s reserved for the brass, but considering my titular rank within the armed forces, I have no issue accessing it. Among other things, there�s an additional barrier against snooping. I expect it�s not much better than a soggy sheet of A4 protecting my privacy from the Lady of Shadows, but if it�ll cost them a little more, I�m all for it.

When Rob flickers into being, connected via the System bending the concept of quantum physics as I understand it, he appears in a hard-light projection of himself.

World President Rob Markey is in his late-thirties, if you pay attention to physical looks. But I know he�s older, much, much older. If not for the genetic rejuvenation offered by the System and a bunch of points into Constitution, he�d be old and frail. Once ex-Secretary of Agriculture, then the only surviving member of the US Presidential Staff and now, President of Earth.

RobMarkey, 1st World Ruler of a Dungeon World, World President of Earth, Beloved, Loyalty Born of Blood, Sacrificed Existence, Efficient Manager, � (more) (Planetary Leader Level 21) (M)

HP: 840/840

MP: 2430/2430

Conditions: Linked Health, Shielded, Location Sense (Earth), Freedom of Movement (Earth), Aura of Sovereignty, Mana Fount, Artisans Gift, Capitalist Dream, more�

�Rob,� I greet the older man, gaze sweeping past his simple grey suit and the splash of color in his bright yellow tie.

�Mr. Lee,� Rob says, hands crossed behind him. �You�ve gained a new tier. The first human to do so, it seems.�

�I guess so.�

�Katherine has briefed me on her troubles. And our losses, as well as the expected action taken against Earth.� Rob�s lips thin. �I expected to speak with you sooner.�

I shrugged. �Things have been busy.�

�Really?�

I explain what I set up, what we�ve done, and the agreement I�ve made with the Empire.

He doesn�t comment until I�m done. �A fair start, but not what I�d hoped to speak with you about.� When I don�t fill the incriminating silence he leaves, he continues. �Why is it that Katherine says they want you in Irvina?�

�My good looks?�

�You�re joking?� Rob�s cold demeanor breaks in a flash of anger.

My shrug actually calms him, surprisingly.

�People are dying, if you did not know, Mr. Lee. Not just the diplomatic corp on Irvina, but people on Earth. They�ve redoubled their attacks. Many of our agents off world were attacked too. Merchant contracts have been broken. Guilds are pulling out of cities they are contracted to protect. Even mercenary companies are canceling their Contracts and giving up on their obligations. And you joke.�

I offer him a weak smile, trying not to let him know how much his accusation hurts. �If I said I wasn�t certain��

�I�d ask for your best guess.�

�And if I said I couldn�t tell you?�

Rob�s lips thin further. �This is not a joke, Mr. Lee.�

�I know.� I absently note the lack of Titles. A power play, to make it clear I�m still below him as a human? I�d say he isn�t used to employing System Titles, but as a professional politician who has been doing it for nearly a decade, I doubt it�s taken him that long to get used to the new reality. So, power play it is. �But some things, you�re better off not knowing.�

His eyes narrow before he gestures around him. I assume he means to showcase the world he sees around him, though it translates badly since he�s gesturing at an empty board room here. �You put the whole planet in danger because of something you did, didn�t you?�

�In a way.�

�Again.�

�Hey, boy-o�s addition of the Galactic Citizens from the lower Combat Classers have helped you guys stay ahead of the increasing Mana saturation and dungeon formations. Hell, you�ve even begun to get Master Classers coming to offer service because John started the entire program,� Ali says.

�The Master Class immigration program has nothing to do with Mr. Lee.�

�Goblin shit. You only have applicants because boy-o made enough of a stink that the others are willing to give you a chance. He let Earth prove they aren�t like the other governments. At least, not as bad and more desperate.� Ali sniffs. �Though the way you�re acting, I might be changing my mind on that.�

�Mr. Lee has done us some good, but he also set the entire Galactic Council against us. Our inclusion in the Council as a Dungeon World was already precarious as it stood,� Rob says. �Now, he has pushed even our allies to abandon us.�

�Talking of allies, do we have any left?� I say.

Rob pauses for a long time, staring at me. Then, to my surprise, he shakes his head. �No. I don�t think so.�

�What?�

�I do not believe we will be telling you who we have allied.�

I freeze for a second, then smile. �Oh. Security concerns, eh?�

�That, and your actions are less than optimal. I see no reason to subject ourselves to your actions again.�

The smile grows strained. �I was trying to help.�

�Yes, and your generosity is noted. But you do not always look out for what is best for Earth,� Rob says flatly. �And that is what we need.�

I clench my jaw, fighting the anger and the hurt. I force out a breath slowly before I raise my hand, ready to kill the hologram.

Rob�s next words stop me. �There are things you can do though. If you are willing.�

�Like?�

�Boy-o, you�re not going to just take that, are you?� Ali says.

�He�s not wrong. I did bring the Council down on them because of my new Class. And I�m refusing to explain.�

�For their own good. And their seat was always precarious.�

�Speak with the Duchess. She already has much to lose. A small push and we should be able to rely on her as a dependable ally through all this.�

�Fine.�

�One thing. You are not an official member of the Earth Planetary Government. Nor should you make any promises as such.�

�Pooskeen twice born and regurgitated children. You want him to negotiate without any backing, putting himself on the line after that garbage?� Ali bristles. �No way in hell��

�Anything else?� I say, cutting off Ali. I don�t explicitly agree to the task, but I�m choosing not to disagree.

�Resolve whatever your issue is with the Council. Or we�ll disown any connection with you,� Rob says. �We can deal with the current problems. We have to. But this is their opening salvo. We will not be caught up in a third altercation.�

�You ungrateful little golem waste, after all that John�s done!�

�This isn�t personal, Spirit. It is just necessary. Mr. Lee understands, doesn�t he?� Rob fixes me with those pale blue eyes, meeting my own brown ones.

I let the silence draw out, weighing him, his resolve, and the situation. Finally, I answer. �I�ll talk to the Duchess for you. And I�ll deal with the Council. Because you�re right, they are my problem. And Earth shouldn�t be dragged into it.�

Rob smiles, a flash of satisfaction crossing his face. He kills the feed a second later, leaving me standing alone in the room feeling a little abandoned and more than a little betrayed.

Then I shake my head and dismiss it. Whatever my feelings, the work ahead is still the same. Save the planet, figure out how to deal with the Council. And for that second part, I�m going to need help.

�Ready for the next call?� Ali says. �Or do you need to wipe your nose?�

�What?�

�To get rid of all that brown, after sticking your face so far up his ass.�

�Enough, Ali. Just connect the calls.�

�Yes, master!� Ali chirps.

***

�Redeemer,� the voice comes softly, a chocolate and caramel caress on the ears. It sends shivers down my spine and brings a smile to my lips even when I don�t want it to. And the speaker, the speaker�s gorgeous. Unlike my own Charisma increases, his has made him handsome. Beautiful. Stylish.

Not hard and intimidating, not a force of nature or a broken, ragged edge of humanity. A weapon given flesh and form.

�Roxley,� I say, bowing a little. �Thank you for seeing me.�

�So formal.� Roxley shakes his head. �When was the last time we met when it wasn�t?�

I shrug, gesturing at him. At his new Status, his new Titles. �We�re not who we were. Not able to do what we want, can we? Not without consequences.�

Lord Graxin Roxley, Count of the White Pass, Hunter of Drakyl, Master of the Sword and the Black Flame, Corinthian of the Second Order and acclaimed Dancing Master of the 196th Ball, Slayer of Goblins, Movana,� (more) (Level 35 Truinnar Lord) (M)

Health: 3430/3430

MP: 2450/ 2450

Conditions: Pheremone Dispersal, Aura of Civility, the Grace of the Dance, Mana Channel, Right of the Lord, Liege�s Favorite

�And consequences are what we are here to discuss, is it not?� Roxley says.

He wants to touch me, I can tell. But here, in this room, it would not be the same. The holographic projection we�re using might give him a hard-light form, might display him in its entirety, but it won�t convey touch or feel.

�Yes. I need to speak with the Duchess,� I say.

�You know what that�ll mean.�

�Yes.�

�I can�t protect you,� he says.

�I know. But if you can protect Earth now��

�It�s out of my hands. This, these are Levels I cannot climb.�

�Cannot?� I offer him a half-smile. �Or will not?�

�Cannot. For now. My Levels have stagnated, compared to you.� Roxley shakes his head, making his long hair�pale blue, almost white�flow behind him. �Some of us have responsibilities.�

�Can you put me in touch with her?�

�I can. But John��

�I know.� I cut him off. �Thank you. For everything. You didn�t have to help us, back then.�

�This sounds very much like goodbye.� The dark elf leans forward, locking my gaze with his. �I dislike goodbyes.�

�And I, early mornings. And the apocalypse. But we don�t get everything we want.�

�Redeemer��

�You know how to contact me. And thank you. Again.�

I turn my hand to the side, killing the hologram. Roxley disappears in the blink of an eye and I find myself standing in silence once more.

Alone. Again.

***

Contemplation is broken by a shrill ring like an old rotary phone. I blink, surprise registering on my face, and spot Ali smirking. The Spirit does find ways to entertain himself. Idly, I accept the incoming projection, surprised that Roxley managed to work this fast.

�John.� The voice is familiar, as is the buxom redhead before me. She looks older, more mature. Small bags under her jade eyes, from which she peers at me. �I just heard.�

�About the attacks?� I say, surprised it took her so long. Surprised she wasn�t targeted.

�No. About what Rob said to you.� Lana�s lips purse in disapproval. �He doesn�t speak for all of us. You know that, right?�

�Sure.�

�You don�t sound very convinced.� Lana�s eyes narrow as she studies my face. Her voice drops, getting gentler. �You have friends here, you know.�

�Hey, toots. What�s it with Goblin-shit anyway?� Ali interjects, floating over to get her attention.

She smiles as she spots him, not taking offense at his words.

�Seemed a little more pointed than normal, the way he was talking to boy-o.�

�Politics.� Lana makes a face. �When you sold off your shares, to some people it signaled that you were done with Earth. On top of that, Rob�s never been your biggest fan.�

I frown, not recalling that. Not that I had a lot of interaction with the man. Sure, I put him on the seat, but he was kind of the last man standing.

�You didn�t free him. Or really, be part of the reclamation of the USA. As much as we managed before we had to stop. And a number of his aides never got over the fact that they had to be rescued by Canadians,� Lana says, eyes crinkling a little in humor. �Not that there�s much of a Canada now, but��

�But old ideologies die hard.�

�Just about.� Lana sighs. �On top of that, a lot of time has passed since you�ve left Earth. The fact that you didn�t stick around afterward and then started sending people back, and well, a lot of people figure you�re a bit of a loose cannon. And one that�s just using Earth.�

�Using how?� Ali throws up his hands. �If anything, you guys have been riding on our reputation.�

�And Mikito�s,� she says. �She�s got quite a few fans here due to her arena battles.�

I grunt, recalling how even on Earth they�ve started in on that. Blood sports, a galactic pastime.

�That�s part of the issue too. That you aren�t really on Earth or tied to us in any real manner. Some people don�t like the fact that their people aren�t as well known as you. It makes them angry that they�ve wasted a ton of Credits and done, at best, half as well as you and Mikito,� Lana says. �I mean, some of the Champions have done well, but as they�re mostly on Earth, their Galactic reputation doesn�t really increase. The few who have left��

�Cause less trouble?� I say.

�Mostly.� Lana�s eyes twinkle. �But trouble adds to your fame. And so��

�So I get blamed for being a troublemaker, making Earth look like one?� I snort. �And Rob doesn�t like it. Though I�d have thought he�d buy into it, that entire scrappy underdog mythos and all��

�Well, the populous does. But it�s rather different when you have to run the planet.�

I shake my head. �Fine. He doesn�t like me and wants to hang me out to dry.� I wave, dismissing the topic. �Whatever. I can deal with it. I do have to fix this.�

�Yes, you do. I know you can�t explain yourself. But was it worth it?�

The penetrating gaze she fixes on me makes me hesitate, forces me to consider my answer. Finally, I nod. She breaks into a smile that lights up the room and gets my heart beating a little faster. I tell that traitorous organ to calm down, and as usual, it ignores me.

�Let me know if you need anything,� she says. �But I�ve got to go. Tell Mikito to call me when she can.�

I nod, and Lana waves goodbye as she fades out. I stare at the spot, remembering times past. Remembering a head pillowed on my chest, lying down together in the middle of abandoned skyscrapers, staring at familiar stars. Of kisses and shared laughter, of comfort and peace.

There�s no pain anymore, not from the memories at least.

But maybe a little regret. Of what could have been. Should have been perhaps, if I was someone else. Someone less broken. Someone less driven.

�That was nice of her.�

�She was always nice,� Ali says.

�Yeah�� I sigh. �Make sure we�re patched in to Earth�s news feed. But if we�re going to fix this, we need to get a looking.�

�For?�

�The asshole who started this.�

***

It�s a day of past flings, for while we work, we receive one last call. This one from a young lady who has every right to access the encrypted network. The one she speaks to me on is even more safeguarded, mostly because of who, what she is.

�M�ady Heir Apparent,� I greet the visage of beauty that appears before me. I idly note the curves of her arms, the muscle in her chest and legs. She�s put on some muscle mass, given a shapelier but more militaristic look to her body.

�Grand Paladin Lee,� Catrin Dufoff, Empress Apparent of the Erethran Empire and ex-Companion, replies, her voice filled with amusement as she echoes my formality. �You are looking well. How goes the expedition?�

�Well. We�ve cleared one planet and are on track to finish the others,� I say. �Your men are doing well too.�

�I would hope so. There are quite a few resources expended on this endeavor,� Catrin says. �Though I�m already seeing the results.�

I nod, eyeing her new pair of Levels. As sponsor for this expedition, she�s getting a small amount of experience from the kills and even more for the acquisition of the planet itself. Though I�d have to dig to check if it�s because it�s new territory or because it�s the return of old territory. Or just the boost in reputation. Ruling Classes are weird in their experience gain methods.

�Thank you for arranging this. Again. And interceding with the Empress on my behalf,� I say.

She waves it off, leaning forward in the purple and gold flowing robes she wears. I can�t help but notice that they show a lot more skin than the Empress�s, while at the same time being just as practical if she needs to get into combat. Since this is a hard-light hologram, there�s no way to tell if the robes are enchanted from the Mana flows around the clothing, but I�d bet my sword on it.

�I�m sorry I couldn�t do more. I�m looking into it but��

I shake my head, cutting her off. As much as I want more help, I can understand their position. Even refusing to vote to kick Earth out of the Galactic Council is a big position to take. �I get it.�

�No, I don�t think you do.� Catrin glances to the side, off-camera, and sighs. �And I can�t explain it. But suffice it to say, I�ll do what I can. But this is going to be up to you. Mostly.�

�I know.�

She offers me another smile before gesturing to the side. A second later, the hologram blinks out, leaving me standing alone with my research. I exhale harshly, pushing aside my rioting emotions, and get back to work.

Chapter 4

A month and a half. That�s how long it took to clear out the other four planets. That included a bunch of time traversing the void, and a short period of actually destroying the monsters on the planets. I no longer hold back for testing, instead laying into the creatures and dungeons with abandon.

As we hit the planets, the speed with which we finish them off increases. Levels go up, the routine gets embedded in us, and the army and I learn how to grow ever more efficient. I don�t wait around to make sure the kill and Skills are done, instead moving from zone to zone the moment my Skill activates.

In many cases, we do just enough damage to allow the Empire to move in and settle their people. To begin the process of reclamation against the monster hordes, letting the army and the hired mercenaries we leave behind to mop up.

Bolo and Mikito work together, blending their abilities to destroy lairs and dungeons at the Master Class Level. They have backup in a squad of Erethran Rangers at all times, though seeing me at work has lit a fire beneath them both. The Ranger squad changes out every dungeon, but Bolo and Mikito don�t.

As for me, I rain down hellfire from above. Experience piles up as I kill and kill again, wielding my Skills with abandon. Mostly, Judgment of All gets the workout, though Grand Cross gets pulled into play when the world bosses arrive.

By the time I�m done, I�m up to Level 11 in my Grand Paladin Class and still at Level 1 for my Junior Administrator Class. I feel experience piling up there, experience from my use of the System Edit Skill itself, though not from kills. Whatever the threshold there is to the next Level, it�s not easy to spot.

We bathe in blood and guts, in experience notifications, and at the end, we�re done. The last location�a world that flies dangerously close to its sun, heated to the boiling point and cracked to showcase the lava within�is a hellhole of lava monsters, fire lizards, and flame elementals. It takes us over a week to kill them all, because they keep rising from the depths. Thankfully, we only need to secure a couple of mining centers rather than the entire planet. Even then, it�s a pain in the ass.

When it�s over, I find myself standing with my friends on a platform in space, staring at the glowing ball of fire. A shielding spell keeps air within the platform, lets us breathe and move. Bolo is beside me, and I can�t help but look at the massive Dragon Lord. We both know what�s coming now that the expedition is over.

�Coming?� I ask.

The Dragon Lord sobers, regarding me with a conflicted visage for a long second. I know what his answer is. Any reasonable person would turn me down considering who, what, I intend to face. But I still ask because I could use the help.

�I�m sorry. Twitting the Empire, cleansing these planets, it was all fun. Dangerous, near suicidal, but fun.� Bolo looks away, making his hammer disappear as he shuffles awkwardly. �But I�ve realized I really don�t have a death wish. And returning to Irvina to face the Council��

�Is a bit much for you,� I tease the man. When Bolo switches from embarrassed to angry, I smile and clap him on the shoulder. �It�s fine. I understand. You�ve done, chosen to do, more than I could ask for. This isn�t your fight.�

�It isn�t,� Bolo agrees.

�So what are you going to do? I�m sure we could get them to open a Portal for you somewhere reasonably close to your destination.�

�There is no need. I spoke with Dornalor before we started all this, and he�s agreed to take me home. He should be arriving soon.�

�Home?� I repeat dumbly. I still don�t know what drove him away, why Bolo is considered persona non grata on his own planet. But it seems whatever else has happened, he�s decided to face the matter directly at long last. I can�t help but think that�s a good thing. �Good luck then. If I can do anything��

�My portion of all this will be more than sufficient,� Bolo says.

I nod. Wiping the planets of high-Level monsters boosted his Levels significantly. More importantly, even a small portion of the loot has made him�us�quite rich. At least until he decides to buy another Skill.

�Then, best of luck.� I offer Bolo my hand, which he takes and shakes by the forearm.

I smile at the seven-foot-tall Dragon Lord, memories flashing over the past year or so that we�ve known one another. I kind of lost track of time, what with multiple calendars running around in my head. That, and it�s been quite a year. From obstacle to ally to friend, Bolo�s shown me a path I could have taken. And sometimes, late at night, I wonder about it.

�And you, Grand Paladin. Safeguard your honor, protect your people, and remember�� Bolo pauses dramatically, before he lowers his voice, �When all else fail, burn it all down when you leave.�

I snort, while the Dragon Lord leaves with a chuckle after bidding farewell to Mikito and Harry. I ponder his last words. For all the amusement in his voice, I remember the glint in his eyes, that hint of darkness that drove the Dragon Lord to hang out in a pirate station for years on end. There is a darkness in his past, one that even time with us has not driven away.

In the end, as the door closes and our Honor Guard escort arrives, we find ourselves alone with Ali alongside us. Knowing that what comes next will be a human affair once more. No one else would be dumb enough to choose to stand with us.

***

There are multiple types of Portal evolutions, ranging from the simple extension in range, to the ability to punch through teleport locks, to the more esoteric, like the ability to divert other people�s teleportations. The simple kinds are the most common and are in plentiful supply among the Erethran Army. It�s a popular specialization to take, since there�s always work for teleporters, whether in the military or in the civilian world. In this case, the Erethran Honor Guard tasked with getting us where we need to go also has the requisite locations.

It still takes time though, as we jump across light years onto space stations, mining barges, military bases, and on one memorable occasion, the empty void itself. Each time, we wait in silence while the guard sits in meditation, waiting for his Mana to return before we take the next jump.

Getting back to Irvina where Katherine is under siege is a difficult process. The planet is deep in the Restricted Zone, ringed by solar systems that are close to being�and in a few cases already are�fully enveloped by Mana, becoming nothing more than Forbidden Zone candidates. If not for the significant number of resources thrown into the capital to keep it functioning, it would have gone under a long time ago.

Even then, every year there�s a big discussion of moving the capital to a new planet. Or just moving the planet. Sadly, there�s an inertia to Galactic politics that keeps major policy changes like this from becoming anything more than discussion.

On top of the distance from the Erethran Empire and the need to punch through the Mana static in a Restricted Zone is the solar system wide teleportation lock. There are carved out exceptions�like Portaling into the Erethran embassy by known and registered Erethran candidates�but my position with them is public knowledge. The Council and other interested parties aren�t even trying to hide the watchers they have around the embassy, so any attempt of sneaking in that way is a guaranteed failure.

And while I could lean on my position a little, the amount of help the Empress is willing to offer is minimal. Part of the reason we helped out on the planets was because she wasn�t willing to even stay neutral without both myself and the Empress Apparent leaning on her.

For that matter, things were a little touch-and-go in the first few days after we received Katherine�s message, as the Empress received quite a few �suggestions� that I be handed over.

Of course, the fact the Empress didn�t bend to the Council has as much to do with safeguarding the honor and prestige of the Empire as any liking for me. As a seated member of the inner council, the Erethran Empire has some pull. But it�s a faded level of influence, with their lack of Paladins�until recently�and more of a matter of size and momentum than anything else.

Even so, they have some pull, which is why I�ve also not been abducted directly from Erethran space. Never mind the fact that the entire cover story is that Earth has gotten a little too big for its britches, with its Dungeon World status and their blockage of multiple parties trying to enter the planet to exploit its citizens. The greater concern is that even more Dungeon Worlds will do the same, essentially depriving entire groups from access to Leveling opportunities. It�s that fear that is being exploited to harm Earth and draw me back.

�I get all that,� Harry says after I finish explaining in party chat. �We can�t go to Irvina directly because they�d know the moment we arrive. I can even see the need to deal with the highest-Level human threat.�

I can�t help but smile a little at that. Being a Heroic-level threat is no small deterrent for certain parties.

�But why exactly are we here?� Harry waves, encompassing the underwater city we�ve Portaled into.

Anlacwo is a water planet, where landmasses are few and far between and multi-kilometer-tall wave fronts swamp even the tallest peaks. Rather than deal with that, cities are built underwater, where the influence of tides high above are significantly decreased and layered bubbles of force shields and permeable crystal keep the air within.

The moment we arrived, the Erethran Honor Guard chose to part from us, leaving us to walk out of the hidden side alley he�d deposited us into. It says something about the city�and planet�that there are no safeguards against people randomly entering it like we did.

As Harry, Mikito, and I head down the street, a wide variety of Galactic humanoids mix and mingle, arguing over roadside foodstalls, merchant inventory screens, and men of the night. The smells are an assault to the senses, a mixture of musky fur, thrilling pheromones, and charred meat; all leaving a furry taste on one�s tongue and a slight itch on the skin.

Those who move around are mostly dressed in Adventurer chic�armored jumpsuits with a variety of patches, straps, and pouches for weapons and other useful utility items. Enchanted items can be spotted strapped to arms, around necks or ears or tails, while high-tech communicators and low-tech melee weapons mix with gay abandon. It�s a riot of colors�in some cases literally, as a furred, cat-hyena hybrid creature�s nanowoven hair flashes through all the colors of the rainbow.

The buildings too showcase the wide variety of alien sensibilities and architecture, some bulging tens of stories high while others are living plants, hollowed out to teleport those entering to another location. The only thing they all have in common is the ability to widen their doorways to accommodate the sizes and shapes of the aliens tromping, gliding, and wiggling their way inward.

�There�s someone we need to speak to before we try to enter Irvina,� I say, answering Harry�s question.

�Someone?� Harry says.

Mikito is idly eying the people around, head turning as she scans for trouble. Hitoshi is held in easy readiness over her shoulder as she surveys the crowd, seeking trouble. Her watchfulness is enough to put off the pickpockets and thieves that work through the crowds, using their Skills to dip into Inventory Spaces.

�Why don�t you put your Skills to use?� I�m not just being an asshole. The reason why we�re here originates from the library in my head. If Harry can figure it out though, so can our enemies.

Harry hisses in exasperation at me, but when I look around us, he falls silent. I�m not sure how much longer I can keep putting off telling them my secrets, but this is certainly not the place.

Focused for the moment, Harry�s eyes flick from side to side, semi-autonomous flying camera drones recording the alien streets while he works. Idly, I wonder how much he�s managing to record, since nearly everyone here has privacy screens running, blocking out simple recording of their features. Depending on the level of sophistication in their tech or Skills, some or all the information his drones might record will be false.

Even as Harry works his contacts, trying to ascertain what�s special about this city, this planet, we keep walking. I follow the bouncing ball in my minimap, guiding the team through winding streets and across moving walkways. Mikito stays silent, only disappearing once to purchase some walking street food for us all. Trusting in me.

The moment our feet cross the threshold into the Barrens, the flood of Mana hits us hard. It�s like stepping through an invisible bubble, and on the other side is pressure and pain as Mana floods into our bodies and crowds the System�s connection to us. The two types of Mana�unmarked, raw Mana and System Mana�battle for control within our bodies, and the System itself flickers and distorts before the connection stabilizes.

Of course, that�s when they hit us.

***

The Skill lock slams down first, blocking access to my Skills. Fractions of a second later, the attacks arrive. Fast-moving arrows, enhanced lasers expelled from mounted weaponry, a Psychic assault. They target me directly, with only a few attacks striking Mikito and Harry.

I survive the initial onslaught for a few reasons. Firstly, the same barrier that we passed through and messed with our System connections also degrades their attacks. The Mana differential on both sides means that the attacks that originate from the lower Mana side skew off slightly, are blunted or slowed down.

Secondly is the simple fact that I�ve been waiting for an attack. The enhanced Soul Shield I�ve been walking around with takes the attack before it pops, blocking about a fifth of the initial volley. The fractions of a second it gives me let me shift my body to ablate some of the attacks, let them skip off while I continue the dodge. At the same time, my secondary emergency shielding ring flicks on, blocking another fifth of the damage. Armored jumpsuit and my Class damage resistances help soak up some of the rest.

I�m still turned into a tumbling ball of fire and pain as the attacks keep slamming into me. Invisible chains explode from the ground, attaching to my body even as an additional dimensional lock blocks my Blink Step.

Rather than force my way through the block, I drop a pair of automated shield barriers around me. They pop into existence, giving me long seconds of protection. I push for Soul Shield, attempting to trigger the Skill and failing. Since I�m pinned, I borrow Ali�s eyes, even as the Spirit slaps additional defenses in place, using my own Skill to pull forth earth from the ground to keep me alive.

I hold off on Sanctum for now, since triggering it would take me completely out of the fight. And, frankly, our ambushers are probably sticking around. It�s not as if I have friends who can rush in to help.

Using Ali�s eyes, I take in the surroundings. There are four attackers. A cyborg-like slug creature, the one who blasted me with the beam weaponry. A floating swarm of yellow-and-black-striped bee insects, whose buzz and drone conjure the spells that assail us. A purple-and-pink-furred Jarrack is the psychic, bands of metal rising into a crown of sparkling electricity that boosts its psychic attacks. Lastly, the trainer Ranger of indeterminate race in his gimp suit, who�s drawing and firing his arrows at such a rate he might as well have an automatic in his hands. Each of those arrows are enchanted, displaying a wide variety of attack types. Some arrows hum with teeth-aching sonic attacks, others are wreathed in fire, ice, lightning, and other, more esoteric energies.

Luckily for me, the Ranger�s focused on Mikito, giving me time to deal with the blood gushing from my nose, ears, and eyes as the Psychic smashes into my mind. Pain, confusion, a pickax to my mind. I breathe, trying to focus as I strain against the Skill block holding me down amd trying to trigger Skill after Skill.

Skill block Skills are rare, and there are a variety of ways to beat them. But the easiest method is to just spend Mana until such time as the Skill block shatters. They are all generally Mana based, requiring the blocked individual to expend more Mana than the attacker. And unlike most Skills, Skill blocks all have a cooldown. Often, quite a significant one.

So I smash Skill after Skill into the block, burning away his Mana and the block, desperately trying to free myself.

In the meantime, Ali�s split himself. One of his bodies starts with keeping me alive. He�s not blocked, so he�s casting Soul Shield with abandon�just in time to block the next series of attacks. Next up, he layers healing spells on me, propping up my plummeting health.

As for his other bodies, they take the fight to the group of attackers. Of course, he�s not as strong as they are, even when he�s lashing out with his Elemental Affinity. But he does have access to my Skills, which lets him throw attacks around wily nily, making him a great distraction.

Under assault, with the initial surprise ablated and stymied, the Master Class attackers attempt to pull back. Whether to retreat entirely or give themselves space, it�s uncertain. Because that�s when the next surprise happens.

A trio of attackers explode from the shadows and jump the Psychic, each of them wielding melee weapons. The first holds a familiar naginata, the other two katanas. They�re all dressed in lamellar armor, painted red and black, with the overly large, distinctive helmets of Japanese samurai. The fight occurs at speed, initiated with a Charge skill by each of them, before they spin around in synchronicity and lay into their opponent.

The Psychic�s mental assault on me stops as blood flies and his arm is nearly chopped off. Blood�yellow blood�splatters on the ground as the trio of attackers lay into him.

I breathe deeply, eyes wide as I check my own information. Fractions of my normal health level are left, but with a snap, I feel the Skill lock shatter as my passive Skills force themselves through. It�s a mental plug giving way, and the Mana I�ve been pouring at my defense kicks in. It fills the space where my Skill should be and I get to work.

A Blade Strike from the weapon in my hand, combined with Peasant�s Fury and Cleave, cuts through the air. A crescent of energy tinted with blue from Mana Imbue and crimson with Peasant�s Fury cuts across space. It bisects the slug�s body. The slug slides apart, blood gushing from the two halves as it dies. Its body twitches, but I feel a number of other debuffs disappear as it dies.

The moment the Skill lock shatters, the bee-attacker and archer run for it. The bees disperse, exploding into a fast-expanding globe of tiny insects while other portions of their body teleport away. The bodies dart into the ground, into the sky, and away in multiple directions, leaving the area in seconds.

At the same time, the Ranger fades out as he dodges Mikito�s swing, blood flinging into the air and turning into phantom light as her cut passes through his faded body.

A flare of power, and the Psychic takes control of the trio�s bodies briefly, making his attackers throw themselves out of the way. They tumble through the air, and the Psychic flickers. For a moment, I almost believe I see multiple copies of the Psychic dash off before he resolves properly into a single figure, blasting straight up toward the edge of the bubble dome. A mental notification tells me he�s trying to hide his presence by overlaying mental projections, but it bounces right off me.

I clench my fist, pouring Mana into Grand Cross, and end him instead. The Skill activates, compressed into a small space, crushing him and forming a deep impression in the ground. As an afterthought, I throw up a Cleanse to clear out the numerous streaks of blood on my face and my body.

Mikito twists, glaring in the direction the archer was last at. She�s on the balls of her feet. I can tell she wants to go after our attackers, but she stays, scanning for trouble instead. Playing bodyguard rather than attack dog.

�Let them go,� I say. �We should keep moving.�

�How did they know where we were?� Harry says, his normally dark skin the closest to pale he can be. He might be used to violence, but we have a history about being attacked randomly, the pair of us.

I�m not surprised I only notice him now, what with his Just a Bystander ability. It makes sure he�s not directly targeted in battles, marking him a noncombatant in most cases. So long as he stays a noncombatant. And that includes things like throwing up buffs.

�Probably set up a tracker on the System for us,� I say.

I drink more of my potions and renew my Soul Shield, making a face as I pull out the Hod. I step into the armor, watching it form around me and offer another layer of protection. I really should have been wearing it, as the ache of a burnt and blasted body tells me. If not for the System-created blocks in my mind for pain, I�d probably still be on the ground, crying.

�I�m surprised they tried and failed to kill you,� Mikito says, frowning. �I would have thought they�d have run the numbers already.�

�Probably didn�t have the latest Skill information.� The upgrade to my Soul Shield was done using the last of the discretionary budget I had access to. Now, I�m cut off from the Erethran budget entirely.

What I don�t say is that the Psychic attack was blunted a lot more than it should have been thanks to my Administrator Class. It�s not something a Grand Paladin would have, but that�s probably what they were estimating on. Add the additional damage reduction from my hidden Class�again, not part of the Grand Paladin Class�and they probably were just using wrong assumptions.

The next attack won�t though, since most of the damage data will likely be public. My next attackers are likely to assume I have some hidden Titles or Skills and pile on even more damage.

�Agreed, let�s move,� Ali says, floating alongside me. His other bodies are leading the way, moving along each side of the street that has since cleared out. Galactics are good at that�the first hint of a battle, they scramble.

�And us, honored one?� one of the Samurai trio asks. They�re all on their feet, standing together with weapons out.

�You can come,� I say. Anyone who risks their lives�especially at their low Levels�is not a real threat but an ally.

There�s silence behind me and I risk a glance back, seeing that the three are not staring at me but Mikito. The Samurai makes a face as she repeats my words. They bow to her and fall into formation at the back of the group, keeping watch as we hurry away from the fight. None of us want to be around when the police arrive. I�m not inclined to bribe my way out of trouble with my precious Credits.

We keep walking, the main street we�re on splitting again and again, becoming narrower with each split. I lead the wary group deeper into this portion of the city, the Mana growing denser each second. Soon enough, System notifications fritz out, the Mana density reaching that critical point.

I find a small park-cum-training ground and flare my Aura just long enough to get the few civilians to leave. A quick dispersal of formation flags and payment to the field sets up a privacy screen. Then, I turn and regard the three Samurai, all of whom stand at attention.

Ruvuds Tadauji, Way Down It Shines, From the Slums, Devoted Fan (Mikito Sato), Slayers of Goblins (Level 42 Samurai) (B)

HP: 1420/1420

MP: 630/630

Conditions: Mana Drip, Health over Honor

Vrasceids Tadauji, Thrice Blessed, Devoted Fan (Mikito Sato), Slayer of Goblins and Thrashers,� (Level 6 Middle Samurai) (A)

HP: 1970/1970

MP: 1220/1220

Conditions: Mana Drip, Health over Honor, Isoide

Agr�us Tadauji, Parent�s Blessing, Devoted Fan (Mikito Sato), Slayers of Niktiku, Imma, Imps, Lis� (Level 47 Samurai) (B)

HP: 1870/1870

MP: 430/430

Conditions: Mana Drip

�Who the hell are you?� I say, holding the sword I materialize in my hand pointed at the ground.

If my anger and the pulse of my Aura bothers them, it doesn�t show.

�We are Mikito-sama�s clan, shogun,� Vrasceids says, bowing to me.

Now that we�re safe, they�ve all dismissed their helmets, which lets me stare at the gilled, green-scaled humanoid with his too-big eyes. I wouldn�t call him ugly, just� alien. Years in the Galaxy have certainly altered my views on what ugly really is. What lies beneath a fair figure can be so much worse than the most open of sores and puss-ridden visages.

�He�s not our shogun, he�s our daimyo,� Agr�us snarls. She�s the shortest of them, a Grimsar katana-wielding fighter, broad like most dwarves but lacking the beard. Otherwise, I really wouldn�t be able to tell if she was female at all.

�No, he�s neither. Lord Sato is our lord,� Ruvuds insists. Surprisingly, he�s the closest to human, easily mistakable as one of us if not for the aqua blue skin and the cat-eyes. �He is her daimyo, but she is ours.�

�Impossible. Samurai cannot be lords of other samurai!� Vrasceids says. �We are but her subordinates. He is our final lord.�

�What?� I say, realizing they�re bickering right in front of us. I turn to stare at Mikito, who is trying her best to act as if none of this is her business. Ali, on the other hand, having collapsed back into himself, has conjured a box of popcorn. �Care to explain?�

�They�re my fan club.�

�I think I missed that.� I didn�t. �Say again?�

�They�re part of my fan club,� Mikito says.

�Right. Fan club. Sure.� I look at Harry, who seems perfectly unperturbed by all this. �Did you know about her fan club?�

�Of course. I did an entire segment on it,� Harry says. �Nice to know all my hard work is being ignored.�

�It wasn�t� I� yeah. Sorry.� I shrug. �You�re right. I have been ignoring your broadcasts. But, fan club?�

�From my arena battles,� Mikito says. �Some people have chosen to��

�Follow in the way of the sword. For it is more than a simple weapon; it is an answer to life�s very questions,� Ruvuds said.

Mikito visibly twitches, then she draws a deep breath, calming herself. I watch as a mask drops over her face, as she stills her mind and emotions. The three are bickering again about quotes from some Five Ring book. I�m pretty sure they have it wrong, there being only One Ring.

Still, I get enough of the context. �Seriously, you made alien weebs?�

�I can kill you, you know,� Mikito says.

I grin, but then drop the humor as I face the trio. �Hey!� Once that gets their attention, I continue. �How did you know how to find us?�

�The clan was alerted about the actions taken against Earth. Many are on their way to Earth already, but others have been on watch for Lord Sato. We keep track of her movements and we were luckily in the vicinity,� Vrasceids says.

�I told you, that�s not the right form of address. It is Sato-san!� Agr�us says.

I roll my eyes as they devolve into another argument and turn to Mikito. �Do you know anything about this?�

She shakes her head. I sigh, eyeing the trio. Finding out what they know is going to be painful.

***

Eventually, we get enough details to pacify my paranoia. Unlike myself, Mikito�s never really had to divert a large amount of her Credits or Skills into hiding where she is or where she will be. Not to say she doesn�t have any Skill blockers, but in this case, it just wasn�t enough. It helped that the fan base actually are registered as true allies for her, using some esoteric system that allows them to track her at a much reduced rate. It wouldn�t be possible, at least at the rate that they were provided, for others to track Mikito and thus myself.

In either case, we pinned the idea that Mikito would require additional Skills for hiding for later. We still have an objective to complete and it�s quite clear that now that we�re out of the Erethran Empire, our enemies are taking action.

I am reassured that at the very least, Mikito�s fan club members aren�t a threat to us. Not in a direct manner. Since that�s the case, and since they refuse to leave, I take them with us as we head for our destination. They follow along like three well-armed, lethal ducklings waddling after their even more deadly mother duck.

As we walk through the twisting turns of the city, they keep watch. We ascend a skyscraper, traipse through a winding skybridge, drop multiple stories to the ground to reach an otherwise inaccessible pathway, walk through shadowed alleyways, and duck through half-lit, barely open retail shops. More than once, we drop small surprises behind�some to hide our path, others to just cause havoc. Nothing lethal, but enough to disrupt pursuers if there are any. Always set to turn off after a certain period, knowing that we aren�t the only individuals in town.

Not that the influx of Mana into this location wouldn�t mess with people anyway.

�What is this place?� Harry asks as we walk through another worn-down corridor lit by luminescent moss. The War Reporter has his hand splayed out before him, recording everything with his Skill while walking. His little camera drones have broken down, unable to handle the Mana saturation levels, forcing him to rely on his innate Skills.

�It�s an artificial Forbidden Zone. The easiest way to deal with System spying, outside of Skills, is to create a Forbidden Zone around yourself. The overabundance of raw Mana means that the System is unable to function properly. Anything that happens in here is pretty close to not having happened at all, as far as the System is concerned,� I explain to Harry.

�Pretty close?�

�Always exceptions. Special Skills, a lot of Credits, special individuals,� Ali says, staring at me as he floats alongside.

I can only shrug, knowing what he�s alluding to. I feel it too, the way my presence almost firms up the System around me. I wonder how far this effect stretches, how much variation it brings to the breakdown of the System�s processes. But I�m also pretty sure that trying to track me this way would require significant resources, maybe even the kind that a Senior Administrator would have to bring to bear.

And no, I�m not entirely sure why I�m so certain of this. Some things, some knowledge pieces, seem to have been inserted into my memories as part of my Class.

�Are we using this place to throw a false trail?� Harry says. �Or a place to work out a way to enter Irvina better?�

�A little bit of both.� I stop before a nondescript door, nothing marking it beyond the address stenciled across its face. I stare at it, then turn to the others and give them a half-shrug. �I�m going to have to do this myself.�

Mikito stirs, looking a little upset.

I shake my head. �Trust me.�

When I�m sure there are no more objections, I rap on the door, hoping that the one within will speak with me.

If not, we�re really screwed.

Chapter 5

I walk into the room with a confident smile, one that belies the deep anxiety lodged in my gut. Behind me, I watch through Ali�s eyes as my companions get bounced off the ward as they try to follow me in.

Told them so.

Briefly, I look over the new notification details even as my System Edit Skill provides further details on how the Skill keeping this place secret works on my friends� minds. It�s not exactly mind control, just a nudge to make them forget what they read.

You have entered a Questor Library 174.6 (Corrupted)

You have met the minimum requirements to make use of this library (System Quest completion rate >80% or Corrupt Questor Title).

You have full access to the library resources

You may speak with the Librarian

You receive a +10% bonus to learning speed

The library itself is spartan, a series of small plinths spread across the empty room. There are no Questors within, though I know from experience, one need only place their hand on a plinth to gain access to the Questor�s library. The room itself is shaded in a light green color, ambient lighting a soft, gentle, and disturbing color to my senses.

Of it all, it is my Mana Sense that is struggling. Between the greater-than-normal Mana levels and the adjusted Mana flows within, I feel as though a heavy fog cloaks that sense, making everything seem faint and muffled.

The dullness in my Mana Sense, the way even my System Edit is askew is why I don�t sense the Librarian�s presence until he is before me, just off-center from my line of sight. Long fingers clasped before a charcoal-grey-suited body, covering a white shirt and a thin black tie, whilst an overly large head, whose grey skin is pulled tight, stares at me. Large black eyes without an iris regard me, too-sharp teeth pulled into a permanent grin as the head cocks to the side.

�You haven�t changed your taste at all,� I say.

�Questor Lee. A surprise,� Feh�ral says.

I stare at the man-thing head-on, shivering as I regard the Head Librarian. The sapient creature that stuck the library in my head, who is the cause of all my trouble. Staring at him, I drag his Status to the fore. I feel his Skill fight it, fight Ali and me. I see the Mana the System pours into the Skill, aiding him. Using him as a channel in this place, just as it uses my own presence. But the System is thin here, fritzy.

And I am an Administrator. I shove aside the System, find the Skill, and slip in a few words with the System Edit Skill. I alter the code that exists within the Mana itself that makes up the System and his Status blooms.

Librarian Feh�ral Vaqwe, Corrupt Questor, Librarians of Note v.18421, Deep Sense, Mana Pier, Slayer of Goblins, Leviathans, Gorgons, Hugag, Gumberoo, Adled, Nucklavee, � (Librarian of the Ten Thousand Paths Level 14) (L)

HP: 2380/2380

MP: 10168/10230

Conditions: Mana Pier, Domain of Words, Knowledge Fount, Skilled Personage, Aura of the Ten Thousand Paths, In the Deepest Abyss

�Very nice, boy-o.�

�Thanks.� I read his information quickly. Most of it isn�t that surprising, especially the last Condition. It�s a very powerful Skill that keeps him hidden, as much as his presence in this artificial Forbidden Zone.

�What did you?� Feh�ral says, sounding shocked. �Wait, this Skill�� His eyes go blank, lips moving as he processes the treasure trove of information at his�literal�fingertips. �Not that. Or that. Maybe but no��

�Don�t bother. It�s not in the library,� I say. �I should know. I�ve digested the majority of the information.�

�Impossible. It has been months only,� Feh�ral says dismissively.

�Yeah, well, let�s just say my new Class gives me a bit of a boost to that.�

That gets his attention. He peers at me, using his own Skill to read my Status information. I tell Ali to let him read it, curious to see what Feh�ral can pick up. I�m not sure he has a Legendary level Analysis Skill, but it�d be up there.

�A Grand Paladin? A prestige Class, but nothing special.�

�Not that one.�

Again, Feh�ral�s eyes narrow. He floats closer to me, his feet never moving. Those dark eyes glitter with interest as long fingers move, the only movement in his own body. #creepasslibrarian.

�I see no other Class. But you are not lying.�

�I�m not.�

�Fascinating. And your System Quest Completion Rate� amazing.� Feh�ral leans in, his face millimeters from mine. When he speaks, his breath brings with it the smell of cotton candy and caramel popcorn�a not unpleasant but disturbing smell. Especially when I involuntarily take a deeper whiff. �What is it that you have done?�

�A lot. A lot that we need speak about. But we�re going to have to trade.�

�Trade?�

�Information. And aid.�

Feh�ral freezes, then his Aura crashes down on me. I might not be a Grand Paladin in truth, but the resistances of a Junior Administrator are even better in many ways. I stay standing on my feet even as the Aura of a Legendary Classed monster pushes against me. We stand, deadlocked, millimeters from one another, struggling in silence.

Eventually, the Aura fades. �Fascinating. Come. Let us speak.� Feh�ral never shifts his gaze from me as he floats backward, away from the entrance to a hidden doorway that slides open at the back of the room. He never even looks away, knowing I will come.

And I do.

Because he�s the devil I have to use against the Council. The man I�ve been searching for, all this time.

***

We take a seat across from one another at a simple table. It�s wood of a form, green rather than brown, looking similar to jade but feeling warmer, more organic, like wood itself. I know it�s a crafting material from one of the many living forests out there, popular with the rich due to its scarcity. It even has some moderate preservation qualities, emitting a field to help safeguard against damage.

We take seats on force chairs that form for us to rest against. It�s the strangest thing, watching Feh�ral bend as if he�s hinging at his hips to sit before his knees collapse and he is seated before me, still regarding me with those iris-less eyes.

�You desire a trade, answers for answers. Why should I not rip your memories apart instead?� Feh�ral says.

�Because you want the System Quest completed, and I think you know how to do it. But I also have a piece too, I believe.�

�I have a theory. The theory seems to have received some approval from the System,� he acknowledges. �But many have claimed what you have. Why is your claim different?�

I grin. My helmet from the Hod is down, so he can easily read my face, but I�m still resting in the comfortable embrace of powered armor.

�Confident. Answer for answer then. For I am intrigued.�

�Good. But I�d rather have a different trade. My knowledge, the Skill, my Class, and that information.� I raise a finger. �For answers to what the Council really wants you for. And help.�

�Help?�

�With them.�

Silence extends between us, and the atmosphere grows chilly. Only the rasp of my breathing, the gentle expansion of cloth and metal as I breathe breaks the pindrop silence.

�A small matter, to take on the Council.� Feh�ral titters, voice high and squeaky. It�s kind of disturbing, his laughter. �Did you think I would say that?�

�No. But I�m guessing if you want to finish the Quest, you�ll need to do it anyway. And if I survive, what I learn might further aid you.�

�High regards.�

�You�ll understand why, if you agree,� I say.

�A blind request. Very well, I�ll aid you as much as your information is worth.�

�I�ll hold you to it then.�

It�s not the straight-out agreement I wanted, but it�s better than I had hoped for. Rather than delay further, I lean forward and talk. About what happened with the library in my mind, and furthermore, what happened in the throne room. The feeling I got when the Master Quest formed, and my desire to change it. Eventually, to how I changed it, borrowing from my Mana Sense, from the library�s information and sheer will. The change in the Quest and the resulting Class alteration on my side, the enforced Heroic Class.

I talk for what seems hours, as Feh�ral probes my words and story, searching for gaps in my tale, searching for knowledge. He manipulates the Skill and Class information I display to him, even as I ignore the numerous warnings that appear when I show it to him. I�m a little concerned by the warnings, but I assume he�s got a way of fixing the information flow back to the System. Or he�s just intent on leaving later.

At some point, drinks appear, glasses formed from the table itself and refilled from inventory. The drink is some weird alien beverage, effervescent with carbonated bubbles but warm and soothing, a hint of a complex sugar like honey combined with a floral taste. I provide the cookies and chocolate.

He�s dipping a chocolate chip cookie in his drink when I�m done, long fingers delicately holding the glass aloft as he regards me. I let the silence linger, chewing on my snack while he thinks.

�An Administrator Class. A hidden Class. The only truly hidden Class,� Feh�ral says finally, leaning forward. �Fascinating. I would say impossible, but evidence proves contrary. Utterly fascinating.� He leans back, his eyes going blank. I watch the drop of liquid gather on his cookie, raised halfway between cup and body, forgotten as he accesses data banks. �I wonder if Librarian Oaret was hinting� and K�sa of the Nine Gorges. He had just gained his�

�The library of Mus�

�� and the galaxy of Rexsa was destroyed�

�The Mana repercussions�

�Missing Mana flow, at the triumvirate experiment��

He mutters and whispers to himself and I�m content to wait and listen, each overheard word bringing with it, its own wave of information from the library. I wait and sip on my drink.

After I finish my drink, I cough. When that fails to get his attention, I rap the table with my knuckles. That still doesn�t get his attention. My next action is simple�I flare my Mana, churning it as if I�m starting a spell. That drags the Librarian�s attention back to me. It�s like a light switch flips on as his eyes lock onto me.

�Ah� my apologies. I was cross-referencing some previous work. This might explain a number of significant discrepancies in the records. Why, just the information about a true Hidden Class would explain the statistical anomaly detected at��

�Your System Quest,� I cut in, not willing to wait anymore.

�What?�

�What is it now?�

System Quest Completion Rate: 91.1%

�Fascinating! An increase. Finally.� The Librarian leans forward. �It would seem that my hypothesis is correct.�

�Hypothesis?�

�That to complete the Quest, further knowledge is unimportant. The final quest completion rate must be sought by action itself,� he says.

�What kind of action?�

�You know as well as I do.�

We sit in silence at that pronouncement before I bestir myself. As much as I�d like to pursue this conversation, to wonder why he is higher than me, why he�s so far ahead� why I haven�t gone up� there are lives on the line.

�Is what I have provided sufficient?�

�Sufficient.� Feh�ral falls silent, lips pursing in thought. �Maybe. The Questors must test this. We must see if we can replicate this Class. Ascertain the information with replication� I wonder what the final proximate cause of your change would be? The library? The Levels? Willpower? The timing gap between choice and action? All of it? None?�

Feh�ral mutters to himself, eyes going blank. I slap my hand flat on the table, the loud thump making glasses jump. In the small, private room, the noise echoes.

�Later. We have a Council to handle.�

�I will not�cannot�fight them,� he says. �I am a non-Combat Classer. And the Council, many of them��

�Are. I know. But you must have some idea of how to handle them. And we need the pressure on Earth to be lifted.�

�Mmm� that I can help with. There are true Questors on the Council still. What you have provided� the actions� maybe if we�� Feh�ral�s voice grows faint again, but this time, I let him fade out as he thinks.

�Am I like this?� I send to Ali. If so, this is incredibly frustrating.

�Sort of. You�re more focused when you need to be. But the library seems to muck with everyone who is connected to it,� Ali replies.

I grunt and pull more chocolates from my storage space. Feh�ral�s hands occasionally move. A portion of me, the part that allows me to Edit things, can feel him at work. I can�t read what he sends, can�t hear what he says, but I can tell he�s accessing not just the library but a communication platform, one that puts him in touch with others.

Fascinating. Perhaps with a little push, I could even access the information he�s reading, but I get the feeling that that isn�t the point of my Skill. I�m not meant to use my Class for eavesdropping.

When he comes back to me, his voice is detached again. �I have informed others. Requested their help. Questors who are partial to our cause will lend aid. I have also called a meeting, a Great Gathering and Sharing. It is within my right, as a Head Librarian.�

I blink.

�This will happen in three months. If the information gathered is sufficient��

�Well?� I ask.

�Then it is likely another purge will begin.�

I open my mouth to ask what he means, but the library beats me to it. Information floods into me, bringing tears to my eyes and rupturing blood vessels. Another section, another compartment I had not realized was hidden within my mind, within my portion of the System, breaks open. Information about the purge appears, and I break.

A galaxy, Rexsa, burns. Planets are torn asunder, moons cracked and pulverized. New asteroid fields are created, so dense with rocks and corpses that one could almost walk across the space.

Ships, so many ships that I cannot see the end of them, are marshalled, firing upon planets, solar systems. Hidden figures in shadows and bright, bold Champions march down streets, tearing Questors from their hiding spots. Challenging those who stand and fight, offering no mercy.

A child screams as its mother is killed before him with a single punch. The Heroic Class Gravitic Warrior pauses, then a voice squawks in his ears. It turns multi-faceted eyes onto the child and his fist blurs again. The scream cuts off.

Space ports spin, burning. Another implodes as gravity focuses deep within, and metal and mortal are crushed. A figure flies out, metal pulled from the wreckage reforming into machines that turn and blast at the Gravitic Imploder. He dies, but another takes his place.

Another galaxy, another solar system, another planet.

More death.

More destruction.

More endings met.

The purge plays out not in days or months or decades. It takes over a century, as Questors and those who support them are found and ended. As anyone who backed the current leadership, who might have learned something is killed.

The purge is declared necessary due to the Questors� actions. Their experiments, the sapients torn from home, sent out of the System, forced to lose Classes, to use Skills on a never-ending stage. Flames of prejudice are fanned, for the Questors do not hoard their information, the results of their tests. They steal Class information from groups that desire to keep it secret, they release Skill information for fractions of Credits, even cheaper than the System.

And the Galactic Council turns on them, burning them to the ground. Officially, a new Questor organization is formed, their quest, their search placed under the strict oversight of the Council itself. Those who escape the purges become the start of the Corrupt Questors.

In time, the oversight relaxes. Questors get on with their lives. They join together again as the desire for knowledge overrides politics.

Then the purges begin again. When the Questors go too far. More death, more destruction, more oversight. The same dance, played over and over again. Millennia apart, information about prior purges removed from the records.

Forgotten by all but the Questors themselves.

�Thousand hells,� I say. My mind throbs even as System healing puts me back together.

Feh�ral flicks his fingers and the blood on the table disappears in wisps of smoke. �The purge?�

�Yeah. Why would you put that in there?� I say. There�s no System information in it, just a long line of atrocities committed by the Council in its quest to destroy the Questors and any who might be considered their allies.

�To remember, to ensure others prepare.�

�And you think the Council will enact another?� I whisper. A feeling of dread creeps up me. There weren�t hundreds of lives lost or thousands. Entire planets were destroyed, an entire galaxy shattered. Billions would fall if another purge occurs.

�Yes. I am almost certain that part of the reason for the last was because of this information,� Feh�ral says.

�But� why? I mean, sure, it�s important, but isn�t all information for sale?�

�Not if the Council makes the cost high enough to be infinite. And with the Lady of Shadows in play��

I shudder, recalling that name. A Legendary whose ability revolves around secrets and hiding them. Yeah, I can see how a secret could be hidden, if such a person wanted it to be hidden.

But she�s not that old. I know that for certain. She�s a young Legendary�as these things go. Just a few centuries old. Nothing compared to the millennia of history the Galactic Council has. So perhaps the purge was the best they could do before.

Yet for all my dread, all my fear, I do not ask him to stop or to recall the information he sent to the Corrupt Questors. Not just because I think it�ll help us, help reduce the pressure on Earth. But because I understand him, understand the �true� Questors. Those driven, like me, to find an answer. There is nothing we will not sacrifice for the answer.

Not ourselves.

Not others.

Nothing.

***

Hours later, I walk out.

We talked. We strategized. I was given a book. We came up with new plans and destroyed them with logic and creativity. He contacted other Questors, arranged for information to be purchased, support to be sent. I was provided even more data.

Outside, the group is still waiting. Harry�s seated with his back to the wall, working on his show. Or gathering information. Never can tell with that one. Mikito, on the other hand, is meditating silently while her three fan club members are standing beside her in horse stance, sweating bullets.

I snort at the sight but choose to stay silent. Ali doesn�t, flying over and already ribbing the trio.

�About time,� Harry says. �Was he-who-shall-not-be-named in there?�

I look around rather pointedly. Harry sniffs, muttering something about paranoia. It�s not, not when they really are intending to end you.

�Now what?� Mikito asks.

Her fan club get out of horse stance, moving to flank her. She rolls her eyes a little but says nothing.

�Now, we visit someone else.� I take off, following the minimap marker that Feh�ral provided.

�Who?� Harry says.

�The person responsible for our current environment.�

There are more than a few gasps, but I ignore all other questions as we keep walking. We�ve wasted enough time. And there�s a lot more we need to get done.

Chapter 6

Stepping through the unremarkable doorway, I peer around the low-light interior. It�s mostly colored in a light spectrum that�s outside of the normal human range, making everything look pale blue and violet. Luckily, my power armor can deal with that, recoloring everything so that I can see without issue.

The first thing that meets me is a bare entrance hallway, one that stretches into the horizon. Following me, a step behind, are my friends. Or they should be. But two steps in, I turn around and see a closed door and no party members. In my party interface, they�re still there with full health. Their Mana level drops as buffs appear under their sheets. I can�t help but agree with the sentiment, throwing on a few myself.

A quick check shows that we aren�t in comm range or even party chat. We�ve been separated as easily as a carnivore from vegetables.

�What�s going on?� I say softly, listening to the echoes of my words bouncing down the hall.

�Games,� Ali replies. He�s the only one here with me, our link superseding whatever tricks were played.

I debate what to do, testing the extent of the trap. A punch to the wall has it crumple, but not give way. I should be able to cut my way through with my sword. It slides into the wall easily enough, but there doesn�t seem to be an end to the wall itself. Might be a few feet thick, might be miles. There�s also a rather obvious corridor.

Shrugging, I walk. I�m here to ask a favor, not destroy their home. I start walking and keep walking. Twenty minutes later, I�m still moving forward, my brows drawn together as Ali floats alongside me. From the map of the surroundings before we entered the room, the building itself should have been traversed within ten minutes, easily.

�This normal?�

�Spatial manipulation? For this guy?� Ali shrugs.

The entire location is locked down, so jumping forward isn�t possible, even if the very same space is twisted by the Skill. All I can do is walk and hope there�s an ending in sight.

I�m not certain how long I walk. The featureless light grey corridor, the low-light illumination, and the soft thud of my feet blending together. My feet don�t ache, but the pressure of my feet, the shift in my weight never changes. Even the smell of the corridor�when I finally decide to put away the Hod�is the same as the scentless filtered air of before. Time blends together, and even the System clock in the corner of my vision offers no help, flicking between seconds back and forth.

When the ending arrives, it does so abruptly. One step I�m in the corridor, the next I�m in the midst of a towering amphitheatre that�s open to the sky, a single table and a pair of lounging chairs in the center. Pink and yellow sand stain the ground below, reminiscent of alien beaches but without the mojitos. In one of the chairs is a figure in a white three-piece suit and a fedora.

The seated figure is humanish. Spray-bottle-tanned, unwrinkled in that over-application of Botox fashion you see in some celebrities, hair bleached unnaturally white. The eyes are the most disturbing�startingly green like a glacial lake but blank of emotions. Empty.

A push of will gets me nothing as I attempt to call information of his Status to being. I know Ali fails too.

No surprise.

I could push it, drag it forth as I did with the Librarian. But where I dared to do so with Feh�ral, I dare not with this man. For in this place, the one before me controls all.

�Honored��

�No names. No Titles. Nothing like that. Now, how do you know of me?� the speaker says, his eyes fixed on my figure. There�s no threat in the voice. It�s perfectly calm and even a little bored. He doesn�t need to threaten, for he holds all the cards here.

The more I stare at him, the more I realize that whatever he is, he�s not really human. It�s a form he drew from the ether, the Mana�a manipulation of my expectations, probably just how Ali popped up looking like he is.

Which is, in a way, a hint of what this man is. Who he is.

But I�m careful not to think that too loudly either. �I spoke with a man� alien� who is a part of a group that searches for answers. About a question��

�Of course you are.� There�s a fatalistic tone to his voice. �You couldn�t be a religious fanatic searching for another convert. Or a portal-to-portal salesman. No, you�d have to be one of them.�

�Yeah. Sorry� I had your location from, well�� I struggle to figure out what to say, how to say it, without using Feh�ral�s name or the information on the library or anything else.

�I don�t care. You people always find me, no matter how many times I shift things. I gave up a thousand years ago. Or was it ten?� The man�s eyes go blank as he considers the question. �A hundred? No, it couldn�t be a hundred. Maybe fifty� no. It was only recent, so it must have been six.�

He prattles for a while on meaningless matters while I keep hold of my temper. There�s no point trying to rush him, though there�s a little bit of fear that I might have been here for� well� years now.

�Well then, tell me. What�s your unique research project?� he finally says, focusing on me.

�Research project?�

�Study. Hypothesis that you want to prove. I�ll warn you, if it�s not unique, I�ll be very upset at being disturbed.�

I frown. �Really? Because it�s not unique enough?�

�Well, of course. So what is it? Another theory on space and time and the System Shops? Or is it a Mana-focused project? Because I�ve got running all the ones dealing with Mana densities that you people can think of.�

A hand waves, encompassing the surroundings. As if reacting to his movements, I feel Mana surge and twist, gaps opening in the ground and across the sky such that I might sense what was previously shrouded.

Locations where Mana is filled with System-marked Mana, held in stasis or moving in circles or hexagons or loops and swirls. Raw, untapped Mana at different levels, combining or interacting with System Mana. Spell forms, Skills, locked in place by enchantments. Hundreds and thousands of tests, all sealed off from one another.

The audience stands around us aren�t just for show. They mark different studies, different tests. Each location in the arena we are within, each zone of the stands indicates a different type of study, a different experiment.

As I stare at it all, the library tugs at my attention, downloading information on each study as I stare at it. More than that, I feel myself reaching out, tapping into the information displayed by each study, filling in data points for the library as I gauge and take readings from the Mana sensors and elemental runes. Another portion of my mind spins, comparing the new data to previously held information.

Information updated only a bare two years ago.

�Interesting�� The word breaks me from my reverie, and I find the speaker staring at me, tapping a lip in thought. �You�re not normal, are you?�

I grunt.

�Show me your System Quest.�

�I��

A raised eyebrow and I capitulate. I�ve not felt this powerless since I stared at a dragon sleeping. Even standing before Feh�ral or the Empress, I was never more aware of how outclassed I am.

System Quest Completion Rate: 89%

�Fascinating. How long?�

�Weeks now.�

He nods. Then, without asking, he shows me his own.

System Quest Completion Rate: 89%

�What�?� I fall silent, because for the first time in weeks, something changes for me.

System Quest: +0.1%

�Something happened.� His voice grows heated, his whole body leaning forward on his chair at an angle that isn�t human. He�s like a pointer dog having caught a scent, and unbeknownst to him, his inhumanity shows through in his eyes as they glow. �What is it?�

I wordlessly show him the update. And he laughs. Laughs and laughs, an insane edge to the cackling that makes my eyes widen and my palm itch for the comfort of my sword hilt. He laughs while I share a glance with Ali.

�Are you sure this is our only option?� I ask my friend.

�You�re the one with the plan.�

�Yeah, because we need help against the Legendarys. But he doesn�t seem very��

�Stable?Sane? Human?� Ali shrugs. �He�s not. To any of those. But what�s��

�Sanity?� the suited man says, abruptly stopping his laughter. �Just another way of saying what others consider right and proper. You aren�t even a century old, you earth-eating, plant-snacking child. Speak to me again when you�re a few millennia old about the value of sanity.�

�I�d say sure, but I doubt I�ll last that long.�

�No, not with your completion rate,� he says, leaning forward. �I have sat here, running your Questors� tasks, for millennia. Doing what they asked, testing because��

�Because?�

�Because I�m bored. And my number has risen because all you people can talk about is your Quest. And yet, for centuries now, it has not risen. And then you arrive�� I gulp, sensing the ire he radiates. Then, as suddenly, it�s gone. �So tell me. What research project will you have me do?�

�None.�

�I can� what?�

�None. I didn�t come here for the Quest,� I say.

When he frowns, I start speaking fast. Trying to explain about the situation on Earth. About Dungeon Worlds and Galactic Council ire, all before he decides he�s done and ends me. I stumble a couple of times, trying not to use titles or specific terms, but it gets smoother, easier to do as I continue to talk.

When I�m done, there�s a profound silence, a silence that pervades the amphitheatre. No wind, no chirp of birds or the hum of insects. It�s unnaturally quiet, and I swear I can almost hear a heartbeat. Mine. Because neither of the other two are truly human. Or alive.

�Fascinating. I�ve gone from lab technician to errand boy.�

A hand flicks and I fly backward, the force of the casual movement smashing me into walls. I shatter the stone slabs, imprinting my body upon the barricade and sliding down as dust and stone rain around me. I stagger to my feet, head ringing, blood dripping from a cut on my head, breathing hitched as I deal with bruised ribs. None of my defensive Skills are still active. In fact, they haven�t been active for a very long time.

�What��

�Lord of Space and Time, remember?�

�I told you not to use Titles, Spirit.� He doesn�t even move as Ali twists, scrunches down, and becomes a ball of compressed light. Then he�s gone, destroyed. The only thing left is the mental scream Ali leaves behind.

�You bastard�� I snarl.

I cut upward, projecting a Blade Strike without thought. It�s all instinct, thousands of hours in combat acting out. The attack never reaches him. Instead, I�m thrown forward, smashing into the ground as I feel my own back get torn apart as my attack reappears behind me.

�Foolish. But someone willing to defy the Council would have to be.�

I snarl, pushing myself to my feet. Rage threatens to overtake good sense�again�but I pull it back. Force myself to breathe and focus. I can�t beat him. I never could. I�m but a momentary distraction, a nuisance. And yet, for all his anger and irritation, I�m still alive. Which means�

�Fine.� I dismiss my sword and hobble over, putting it back in whatever place it goes. Somewhere in my soul, within that portion of the System that is me. �You�ve let me live, which means you�re interested. Maybe even willing to help. What do I need to do?�

The Lord smiles at me, lips widening and widening to an unnatural level. Then the grin disappears like a flame snuffed out by an errant breath. �Tell me the truth then.�

�What truth?�

Another blow, coming from above. Unseen force squashing me into the ground. This time, it takes me a few minutes to clamber to my feet because the concussion he gives me makes me throw up the first time I try to stand.

�Fine. But this might be the end of you too,� I say.

When his eyes narrow, I shrug. And tell him the rest. About why they chose to go after Earth now. About my true Class. And when he disbelieves me, I show him my Status, just as I did with Feh�ral.

He stares at it for a long time, and I let the silence linger while my body heals. Cracked bones reform, twisted spine straightens, and torn muscles reknit. I�m fully healed and even considering calling forth Ali when he speaks.

�A Class that should not be. A position that was rumored, but never confirmed.� The Lord stares at me and shakes his head. �And you think this is the reason for all this?�

�Yes.�

�What makes you think they wish not to recruit you?�

�Because if they wanted to be friendly about it, they�d have sent an invitation. Not threatened my planet,� I say. �Not killed those I cared for.�

He laughs then, shaking his head. �What makes you think this might not be a modest invitation?�

�I did talk about the death of my allies, no?�

�Yes. But these are individuals, groups, with powers greater than you can imagine. Many have lived for millennia, like me. To gain our final Class, to become what we are. Do you know what it requires normally?�

�A lot of XP.�

�You murdered an entire planet and barely rose in Levels,� the Lord says, his voice dropping. �A lot of experience, you say.�

He laughs, and something changes. I turn my head from side to side as scenes of devastation, of death appear. None of the cities, none of the planets are familiar. None repeat. But they are all the same in intent and form.

A hand plunging into a chest, piercing the heart within. I can see it, feel the flesh, the bones, the beating organ around my too-big hand.

Screams as explosions roar and winds rise. Warmth on my face as the blood of a friend, an ally, splashes on me. Death rains down from above, and I find myself clutching at the incoming death, twisting space to send it back at our attackers.

A meteorite flying through space, and on it, I fight for my life against bipedal, armored, shell creatures that rise from its hollow center. A space dungeon let loose to fly through the cosmos, raining Level 200+ monsters on unsuspecting planets. I fly through space, sending shards of twisted space to crack the meteorite, speeding up my attacks and slowing attackers as they near. Fighting on as acidic blood splashes me, as it freezes and cracks and falls away. I beat upon the dungeon until the queen arises.

A planet, cupped in the palm of my metaphorical hands. I bring my hands together, and the planet buckles. Continents shatter, oceans churn, and a molten core is revealed. I keep closing my hands as I compress the planet, twisting space. When I�m done, I pocket the planet and dismiss the notification of experience gain.

Individual battles, wars waged, dungeons cleared. The battles are unending, all the space in the ampitheatre, on the ground, under it, and in the sky are filled with images, experiences. And as though it cannot be contained, the shattered mirrors of the past bleed.

Blood drips, and the amphitheatre fills. So much blood that it covers my feet, my knees, my head in bare seconds. I try to swim, paddle, but there�s no surface. No place to go as it sucks me down, as the top rises to fill the entire location.

I struggle, twisting and bucking, lungs aching. My System doesn�t work, my inventory doesn�t open to provide me oxygen masks. Class Skills fire and are absorbed by the flood of sticky liquid. Even my reinforced Constitution is not enough in seconds, as time twists and buckles, when seconds become hours.

My mouth opens in a breathless scream and the blood floods in, filling my lungs, drowning me. All I can see is red. All I feel is the clammy wetness, the stickiness of the blood.

And I drown. Dying by inches. In all the blood he shed to reach the very apex of the System.

***

I come to on dry ground. I thrash to my feet, surprised to find myself alive. My mind is already blanking out the experience, the images, trying to save me from the screaming terror, my reborn phobia. My hands shake, my eyes are wide, and my breathing too fast. I struggle upright, my clothing clean, my lungs clear, my mind twisted.

�You melodramatic bastard�� I cough. �You could have just used your words.�

�But would you have listened as well?�

I snort and shake my head, trying to clear it. Of the images, of all the sensations, of what I saw and felt. Because among it all, I also sensed what drove him. What made him, him. His own quest, as insane as mine�or perhaps even more so.

�So you think all this was just an invitation? Their way of saying �come over for tea, we should have a chat�?�

He shrugs. �We do not interact, by choice. But there is little to be gained by setting oneself against the other.�

�Yeah, okay. I�ll take it under advisement. But I have a feeling it�s more of a question of them not liking their secret being revealed.�

�Also a possibility. A secret that has lasted millennia is one kept in blood itself. Your keeper of knowledge believes that for sure,� the Lord says, his voice lowering. �That meddlesome fool. He was always such a problem��

Again, I see glimpses. Of his interactions with Feh�ral, of long conversations and even fights. And in the corner of my mind, I note the tests that are Feh�rals, that are run for his sake.

�A dangerous secret, perhaps. And you gave it to me. Tell me, did you think to bring me to your side? What is that quaint human saying? The enemy of my enemy?�

�I warned you,� I say in my defense.

�Knowing I would not be denied. Even intrigued.� I shrug, and he laughs. �You overestimate how much I care.�

There�s truth in his words. I know it. I know his obsession and all that he has given up, all that he has sacrificed to reach as far as he has. And still, he has failed to truly master time. To step back into the past itself. And correct� something. What he intended, what drives him was missing. Unimparted by the Skill he used.

�A man must try, no?�

A chilly silence greets my words and I sigh. For all that he�s playing unfriendly, the fact that he hasn�t killed me yet�if barely�means I�m keeping him entertained. Which is good. Because the next step is the important one.

�Yeah, fine. So here�s what I was really hoping from you��

***

�Kuso!� Mikito swears as I appear right beside her. She doesn�t even manage to stop her reflexive attack and buries her naginata halfway through my blocking arm.

�Thousand hells!� I swear as she yanks it out. I clutch my arm tightly, ignoring the way Hitoshi drinks up my blood, how tendrils of blood flow from my hand to the blade before the connection is broken. My eyes widen. I sense a new strength in the weapon, a little disturbed by its new abilities.

They widen even further when I realize that Mikito looks aged. More than that, her Levels�

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden, Junior Arena Champion of Irvina, Arena Champion�Orion IV, Xumis,�; Time Slipped, True Bound Honor (Upper Samurai Level 40) (M)

HP: 4721/4721*

MP: 3567/3567*

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo, Feudal Bond, Blitzed, Future Projections

Galactic Reputation: 47

Galactic Fame: 47,864

�What the hell happened to you?� I say.

�Time.� Mikito looks aside for a second, but there�s a set to her stance, to her body that asks me to not ask further.

�A very short conversation. Then I was back here,� Harry pipes up from where he�s seated. �Mikito appeared a few minutes ago.�

In the distance, the three fan club members are running through forms, never having been invited through the door with us.

�Where�s Ali?� Mikito asks, changing the subject rather deliberately.

�Banished,� I say. �But we should get going. There�s a Shop orb a short distance away. We should make the visit. Might not get another chance.�

�And then?� Harry asks from where he�s seated.

�Then we make our way to Irvina.�

�How?�

�I�ve made arrangements.�

�Him?� Mikito says. �Did you make a deal, you baka?�

�I did. Had to,� I say. �We need him. And what he can offer.�

�At what price?� I shrug, and her lips purse. �We have yokai like that in our tales. Deals with them never turn out well.�

�No.� I fix her with a flat gaze. �But you made one too, no?�

Mikito shakes her head. �No. I didn�t. It�s why�� She trails off, shaking her head. �No promises were made. Just punishments doled out.� I bristle and she shakes her head. �Forget it, John. It was expected.�

I lean forward, looming over her only for her to glare at me, reminding me to keep my anger to myself. I�m not going to get an answer.

�Fine. Whatever.� I tramp away, even as I poke at the link that connects me to Ali. Something pushes back and I realize that for whatever reason, he�s not coming back just yet.

Well, maybe a little peace and quiet is good. For him and me. Because very soon, there won�t be a lot of either.

My motley crew trail behind, and I hope that what I learned and what I have planned is enough. But before that, there�s a secret or two that needs to be revealed.

***

It�s a simple room, one that I access with the touch of my hand, a push of my will and a request sent. It�s a place that cannot be found by the System�because of unregulated Mana, because of Skills, because he wills it�and because of that, it�s perfect for what we need.

Once more, the main team enters. Once more, the trio of fan club members are left behind. They�re not happy, but I don�t give a damn.

�Where are we?� Mikito asks, staring around the blank white plane we stand upon. The horizon is empty too, a slightly different white that offsets the unnatural paleness we stand upon.

�Nowhere.� I turn to the pair and hesitate.

�Why did you bring us here?� Harry asks.

�That�� I shake my head. �You need to make a decision. A choice. How much you want to know. About the System. About� the Council. And why they started all this.�

Harry frowns, eyes narrowing. �And there�s a price?�

�A consequence.�

�Which is?�

�Your death.�

�What?� Harry says, eyes widening.

�They�ll kill you for knowing what I�ll tell you.� My lips thin as I gesture around. �All this, it started because I learned something I wasn�t supposed to. And it�s a secret they�ve killed before to protect.�

�How do you know this?� Harry pauses, then shakes his head. �The library. It finally unraveled fully, didn�t it?�

�Not exactly,� I say. �But the library did play its part.�

�And you know they�ve killed before,� Harry states flatly.

�It�s a secret tens of thousands of years in the keeping. You don�t keep a secret like this without taking drastic measures,� I say.

Harry slowly nods and falls silent. In turn, I look at Mikito. My most trusted companion.

�Do you need me to say it?� Mikito says.

I open my mouth to reply, then realize it�s probably not necessary. She�s reaffirmed her commitment in words and action again and again. Asking her again could be considered� well, an insult.

�Fine. Then we�re just waiting��

�For me?� Harry says, shaking his head. �No need. Tell me.�

I say his name softly, wanting to dissuade him. Wanting to get him to choose otherwise.

�I understand. But I�m a reporter. Learning secrets at the risk of my life, that�s what I do,� Harry says with a tight grin. �And this sounds like a secret that I�m truly looking forward to hearing.�

I draw a deep breath, calming myself. Forcing myself to accept that they�ve made their decision. Once I�ve gotten close to that acceptance, I tell them. It�s a familiar refrain by now, even the show and tell. This time around, I feel the System shift, the Mana flare and twist as I push my true Status at my friends. As if it�s watching,

When I�m done, the pair stare at me, before Harry snorts. �That�s it?�

My jaw drops. �What do you mean, that�s it?�

�It�s a System. A program. That�s literally what it�s called. If there�s a system, there�s an administrator.� Harry shakes his head. �It doesn�t seem like much of a stretch to realize that.�

Mikito nods.

�Hell, you were a programmer,� Harry adds. �Seems like you�d have figured that out.�

�But it�s the System.� I wave my hand around, trying to explain. �It�s not an OS that you just boot in. It�s� well��

�It�s what controls everything, yes. But I think, if anything, it�s not so much the secret of your Class as wanting control of it�and its users�that caused this problem,� Harry says.

I work my jaw as he speaks, as he explains the truth of my secret. But in the end, I have to wonder if he�s right. Maybe it isn�t the fact that I came upon the Class, but that I have it.

Not that it matters. Not really. Which I point out.

�Maybe it does,� Mikito says, opening her hand. �If they just want to control you, then this might not be as bad.�

I find myself nodding. �Maybe.�

I recall what the Lord said, that maybe they just want to speak with me. And I wonder if the Lord and Harry are right. If so, what does that mean for my plans and Earth?

The silence continues for a few long breaths before Mikito breaks it. �That�s it?�

�It?�

�Yeah, it. No other deep secrets we need to know while we attempt to save our friends and our home planet?� she prods.

I grunt. �No. That�s it.� I huff. �That�s all there is.�

My big reveal, and these two treat it as if it�s just another damn secret, not a System-destroying revelation. I�m annoyed, petulant, but I shove it aside. We have more things to deal with than my hurt ego.

�What next?� Harry says, though I realize he seems to be deep in thought as he speaks.

�Now we really do go shopping. Then, finally, Irvina.�

Chapter 7

Accessing Irvina always came with two major problems. First is entering the actual solar system itself. Being located in a Restricted Zone with the start of the Forbidden Zone within a few light years, most normal teleportation methods to Irvina are extremely expensive. The System has to expend a significant amount of Mana to teleport you, so it requires a significant Credit or Mana outlay.

It�s why our first trip in, we did it via mundane technological means. Most ships can traverse the distance without issue, and even in the deepest areas of the Forbidden Zone, a properly shielded vehicle will run. Issues of Mana flooding can be handled with the right technology and channels.

Unfortunately, ease of access runs into the second major issue of entry into Irvina�the security concerns. Entering the solar system is regulated, with a variety of solar-system-wide dimensional locks and spatial sensors alerting them of incoming ships. For obvious reasons, security is a major concern.

The entire planet is under an extremely complex and robust dimensional lock, preventing direct access to the planet itself. Only a few exceptions are carved into the system, and all those involve the embassies themselves. In all other cases, you need to stop at one of the many space stations that orbit the planet as entry funnels and defensive grids.

All that said, and with the Council keeping an eye out for me, we need to sneak in. There are two ways to do that, of course: smugglers or a hidden teleportation. Smugglers into Irvina are either extremely high tiered�and thus extremely expensive and wary of the kind of cargo they grab�or are on a wink-and-nudge relationship with the bureaucracy. Unfortunately, without a ton of research, it�s impossible to know which is which. Dornalor�s contacts would normally be useful for this, but considering our position, I�m less than enthused about those options�especially since most of his suggestions are friends-of-friends-of-friends.

Even Harry can�t help, coming up short as his contacts ran and hid at the thought of going against the Council. Harry holds a strange place in our group. He�s a noncombatant and even has a series of Skills to keep him safe and ignored during a battle. Along with his membership with the Galactic Alliance of Reporters, he has a level of protection Mikito and I don�t when things get hot�so long as he doesn�t take part in the fight itself.

On the other hand, when we�re out of combat, Harry is invaluable. He has connections, a wide base of knowledge, and often can learn of information that isn�t public. The sheer volume of secrets the GAR are privy to is staggering, and many of those secrets are still kept for one reason or another. When it comes to arriving at a new location, there�s no one better to have on our side.

For all those reasons and more, Harry is frowning when we enter the secluded, private travel room. The security check to get in was discreet but extensive, with everything from our DNA to our auras verified before we even made it down the white-walled corridor.

The room itself is reminiscent of a magic-ritual room combined with a steampunk mechanic�s nightmare. Ritual circles on the floor in a configurable gear pattern allow fine-tuning of the ritual. Steam engines with exposed pipes chug away at the corner, supplying liquid Mana to the entire contraption, and wiring and exposed cables run toward a stone altar.

In the corner, the Gremlin who runs the entire damn thing is adjusting a variety of sockets with a wrench, Mana warping around him as he tugs on the stubborn machine via his Skills.

�You do know that they�ve got a Tier I, Heroic Class teleport blocker, right?� Harry says after eyeballing the location for a bit.

�No matter.� The voice that speaks rises from our feet, making Harry jump in surprise. Out from the floor, a gooish substance rises until a trembling slime-like man stands, wisps of rainbow color floating within to form fragments of memory that replay on his skin. �You are not teleporting but traveling.�

�What?� Harry exclaims, then draws a deep breath. �We�re traveling?�

�Yes, this is a matter-energy discombulator,� the slime says. �We�ll transport you through space to your location.�

�Discombulator?� the lead member of Mikito�s fan club says. �That sounds dangerous.�

�Not at all! We have a 98.4567% success rate at reforming our test subjects.� The gremlin turns around, sliding his wrench into his tool belt as he walks over, offering a wide grin. �Call me Rachet Cord.�

The slime makes a weird bubble popping sound. It then corrects the gremlin. �Customers.�

�Right, right, customers!� Rachet says, almost bouncing. �So, who�s first?�

�John�� Mikito speaks up, cutting off everyone else. I turn to see the Samurai wave me closer. �How safe is this? Really? And will it work? If it�s the speed of light��

�We have Class Skills speeding up the transportation of your bodies,� Rachet says. �Myself and Burble.�

�Burble?� Mikito says. �That�s not��

�My name. Yes. But Rachet cannot say my name.�

�Why not?� Vrasceids frowns. The green-gilled Samurai turns to look at Rachet. �It�s just�� he emits a shrill series of squeaks and bubbles, his gills fluttering as he makes the noise.

I ignore the group, speaking with Mikito and Harry, who has made his way over. �Estimated time for us to arrive should be around forty-three Galactic standard years.� The looks of consternation on their faces make me smile slightly, but I decide not to push it further. �Don�t worry. I have it handled. Through you know who.�

Mikito sighs. �Baka. Fine.� Without a further word, she walks over to the center of the ritual circle. �Shall we do this?�

�Really? That�s it!?!� Harry shouts.

Mikito shrugs. �John�s a bakayaro, but I trust him.�

She stares as the gremlin runs around, twisting dials and adjusting steam levels while the slime taps at bubbling glass measuring devices and twirls dials on the stone altar. Under Mikito�s feet, the gears spin and lock into place, settings adjusting. All through the movement, she keeps her balance with ease.

�This�� Harry purses his lips.

�You don�t have to come this way. You�re not wanted by the law,� I say softly to the reporter. �If you port in normally, you should be fine.�

�Har! With what funds?� Harry makes a face. �Did you see the prices?�

�I did.� I�d poked at the Shop and winced, since the cost was in the tens of millions of Credits. A normal hyperspace flight was cheaper, significantly, but it�d take months for Harry to arrive. He�d have to swing out wide to avoid the Forbidden Zone since most ships don�t want to deal with the creatures that exist within.

As if my question reminded Harry of something, he adds softly, �Hey, how are we paying for this?�

�All right, here we go! Engaging in three,� Rachet says. �Oh right, this might pinch a little.�

�We�re not,� I mutter to Harry. �We�re voluntary test subjects.�

Mikito glares at the gremlin as he provides the warning a little too late. The gremlin ignores her as he shouts the count for his fellow scientist. In unison, Burble and Rachet cry out the final number and a green tendril stabs down on a big yellow button.

Mikito�s eyes widen as her body warps and twists, the edges of her body compressing. The entire process is over in a fraction of a second, the woman becoming no more than a single point of light that grows smaller and smaller, grows brighter in intensity. And then, the beam of light shoots upward through the ceiling through an aperture hole so small I missed it until now.

�How�d it do?� Rachet says.

�Full integrity. No issues,� Burble says. �Told you we just needed to adjust the matter-kilo varix ratio by 0.14.�

Harry�s eyes widen further. �Where did you find these guys?�

�You don�t want to know.� Truth be told, I�ve never met them before. The Lord made the suggestion, and I�m just trusting that this will work.

�Next!� Rachet cries.

Ruvuds walks straight over to the platform. It grins and twists, adjusting as necessary while Harry stares at me, lips pursed.

�Time to choose, Harry. I could use you, but what�s going on�� I shake my head. �I can�t guarantee anything.�

�Bloody hell,� Harry says. �Blood, bloody hell.� He watches as the gremlin and slime�the Galactic Tinkerers�get to adjusting and shudders. Eventually, when they�re nearly done, he speaks. �If I get shot into a star, I�m going to come back and haunt you.�

�Fair.� My lips twist up. �But I�m pretty sure��

�Three!�

�Whoa! Don�t forget to adjust for his Levels next time!� Burble shouts out.

��if things go bad, we�ll all be haunting one another.�

Harry rolls his eyes, but sensing a story, he walks over and questions the pair as the machine recharges.

***

The process of matter-energy transmutation isn�t exactly painless, but it�s not exactly painful. It happens in a flash from the inside, as nerves are twisted and torn before they are transformed. My body is compressed then thrown to the ceiling, exploding out of the planet, the solar system, then the galaxy.

The entire journey out of the solar system takes only minutes, as Class Skills warp the speed that the packets of light that are us are traveling at. We move faster than light, at least in relation to the rest of the universe. We go faster and faster, but it�s still not fast enough. The galaxy is a large place after all.

I�m not exactly conscious, but I�m not exactly unaware of what is happening. A portion of me�that same portion that has been enhanced, upgraded, and supported by the System�is awake and paying attention. And it notes when the shift happens.

The reason, the only reason, this particular mode of transportation is viable is because of who we have in our corner. The Lord of Space and Time touches us, his Legendary Skill interacting with the world itself. And space folds, even as time itself slows down.

Twenty, fifty, a hundred thousand times as fast as the speed of light. We shift across time and space, and I catch brief glimpses of the world we cross. A rotund living ship whose hyperspace organ breathes the solar winds while forming a bubble of hyperspace is gently nudged aside as we pass it. The ship cries a greeting, a bleated note that wraps us around as we fly.

We slip by a planet, cutting so close to the edge of its atmosphere we�re flashes of light, so bright that it lights the atmosphere on fire. Below us, monsters scream and cry, our passing lights making the sky burn briefly, saving a few Adventurers in mid-fight by forcing a distraction. Others, caught and distracted, are sent spiraling to their deaths.

A sun collapsed upon itself and, incredibly dense, tears apart the fabric of the planets caught in its orbit. It pulls gas and dust to itself, and we blur through its very heart, a cluster of fast-moving light dots. The Lord�s Skill protects us, as we enter the sun and exit in a blink.

And most of all, most of all, there is the void. That deep darkness, that empty stretch of reality that is the gap between stars. We traverse it as moving dots of light, and in the infinite stretch of space, there is nothing for long hours, no souls, no matter, nothing.

Nothing but Mana.

And the System.

There�s a truth in there, a fabric of reality. We spin through the void as semi-sapient dots and enter Irvina without issue. Nothing bothers us, nothing can bother us, not as we are.

We enter Irvina�s solar system and slow down, slow again as we pass through one threshold after another. Slow and dim, becoming no more than ghosts, just another stream of light that hits the atmosphere and shifts direction, arcing to strike the bare earth.

Dots of concentrated light that plant themselves on solid earth, hovering above the ground like scattered solar seeds. We stop for a brief moment.

And blossom.

***

When the screams end, my friends are less than happy with me. It takes the trio of Samurai, with their Basic levels of pain resistance and experience, the longest to recover. But even for me, with the shielding and experience I�ve gained as a Heroic, the pain of dissolution and reconstitution which only happens as we reform is like being dipped in a sun, inside out. It took me long minutes to regain my senses, to recover.

It takes the others far longer.

�Yeesh. It�s just a matter-shift,� Ali says, shaking his head. �There�s no reason to be so dramatic.�

I resummoned the Spirit while I was waiting for the trio to recover. Mikito, rather than talk to me, had stalked off into the woods we�d been deposited within, searching for something to kill. Or a place to cry in private. Not sure which�nor am I intending to find out.

Irvina�s a mostly developed planet, the galactic equivalent of Great Britain. A place once filled with wildlife and untamed forests turned into idyllic pastures and sprawling, dense cities. Except, of course, we�re in the System, so dungeons dot the surroundings with distressing regularity.

You have entered the Opcet Forest Reserve (Level 75+ Zone)

This is a curated outdoor spawning area.

Access restricted

Spawning levels increase by 125%

Experience gains increase by 25%

Loot drops decreased by 50%

On top of your regular dungeons, there are also various options that allow one to manage Mana flow. Designated parks and reserves help focus Mana production, and because this is the System, parks are more violent and murderhobo-like.

No surprise then that when Mikito wanders back in from the purple and neon forest, her ghost armor is speckled with blood and guts. She releases the Skill a moment later, the semi-translucent armor disappearing from her form and allowing the gunk to fall aside before she reforms the armor around her.

I�ve got my own Soul Shield up, and Harry�s over in his corner, nursing a headache and delving into the neural net that surrounds the planet. He�s pulling information and getting the lay of the land for us, whilst using his Skill to avoid being targeted.

I glance at the three Samurai, still surprised they�re here. But it�s clear that however they feel about me, I�m secondary to their entire objective of getting closer to Mikito. Or worshipping her. In any case, their presence should hopefully be a boon. As it is, those three are finally standing and stretching, still looking a little green�or very green, in Vrasceid�s case�but functional.

�We ready?� I say.

�We are, but�� Harry frowns. �I thought the trip would take weeks. Or months. How are we here already? It�s not even a full day.�

I grin at Harry while the man puts things together. It�s not too hard, since he has all the pieces, but he�s still a little shocked. When he mouths the word Legendary, I nod.

�All right, so we�re here. And if I�m correct, no one knows we�re here.� I point at the three. �You all will split off. Mikito will give you further marching orders, but we need you to speak with other members of Mikito�s fan club��

�Clan, Lord,� Ruvuds corrects.

��and have them ready to help us. Any additional help you can find would be useful. Mercenaries are probably our best bet here, at least those we can count on.�

�Do you expect violence, Daimyo Lee?� Agr�us says, the tiny Grimsar grinning a little as she caresses the hilt of her katana.

�Expect?� I pause, considering. �Yes. But I�d like to avoid it.�

�What kind of mercenaries do you require, Shogun?� Vrasceids says.

�What do you mean, kind?� I frown.

�Protection? Dungeon-delving teams? Occupation forces? Burn and churn?� Vrasceids says. �There are multiple kinds of mercenaries, Shogun. We mean no offense, by correcting you.�

I blink and look at Mikito.

Luckily, she cuts in with ease. �Any kind that you can hire. We�ll be fighting�if we fight�in Irvina. So whoever you hire has to be willing to do that. Or at least take the penalties in their rating and return our deposit.�

�Deposit and standby fees, with last-minute activation terms,� Vrasceids confirms. �May I suggest double penalties, on-site residence, one-month term, autorenewal? If that pleases you, Lord Sato.�

�One month sounds about right.� If anything, everything will end faster than that, so I confirm the timing with ease. �Can you hire without��

�Letting them know the final objectives?� Vrasceids nods. �Of course, Shogun.�

Agr�us�s face scrunches up as Vrasceids continue to call me Shogun, though she doesn�t object.

�Many units�especially those we�ll be targeting�are used to unrevealed objectives and obscured targets.� I frown, and Vrasceids grins. �They aren�t the nicest groups, but they understand the risks.�

�Fine, fine.� I wave it away. I�m not going to worry about the potential issues right now, though I�m hoping that whatever we do end up using them for�and I�m imagining some violent strikes and rescue operations�they�ll manage to keep civilian casualties down. But if we�re fighting in the middle of the city, there�s no guarantee for that. �Best get going. The longer we�re together, the more exposed you guys are.�

Once Mikito confirms my orders, the trio bows and heads off at a trot. She�ll stay in contact with them, the entire �clan� having a secure communication to the Samurai, it seems. One that she has never told me about. I wonder if it�s because she never knew or was trying her best to forget. I know I�d be embarrassed to have a fan club.

I wait for a few minutes, ensuring they�re well and truly gone before I turn to my friends.

Harry beats me to the question before I can speak. �What�s your plan for us? Are we contacting Katherine?�

�I want to, but initially, I figure we�ll make our way to the outer edges of the capital. If we can lie low there, we�ll see if it�s possible to speak with her.� My lips press together slightly before I continue. �However, contacting her will be tricky.�

�She has Skills to block tracking. As do I,� Harry says.

�Yeah, but�� I open my hand. �I have a feeling the Lady of Shadows and whoever else is tracking her anyway.�

�Then�?�

I shrug, unsure. What the hell can I do?

�One thing at a time,� Mikito says. �We need to enter the capital first.�

�Fair.� I cock my head.

Ali points, offering us the direction we need to walk. There�s no other way to travel since I�ve been Dimension Locked since the moment we arrived. And even if I could punch through, we�d alert the very people we�re trying to hide from.

So. Walk, or in the case of Mikito as she calls forth her horse, ride.

***

Along the way, we take precautions. Skills or enchantments are triggered, hiding our Statuses as well as what we look like, all little goodies we picked up at the Shop just before we left or from the Erethrans. Harry�s got it easiest. A few of his Skills adjust how he looks and what kind of information people can get from him. Mikito, on the other hand, has a ring that makes her look different and a Skill that adjusts her Status information, while I have the opposite.

Once the initial Skills and enchantments are in place, I take the time to play with our Status information with the System Edit Skill. I feel my way through the data, having Mikito and Ali repeatedly call forth my Status information to get a feel of what is happening. Each time, I sense the pressure as the System bucks under my control, the flow of information and Mana wanting to escape my grasp.

It�s only when I have a grasp of the flow, a twisting braid of multi-colored streams of information that are as intricate as a Gordian knot, that I dare to Edit it. It�s a little like programming but less precise, more done by feel of flowing data points than any monitor and keyboard input. The System code is�as I�d once noted�not in any known language. Worse, the same words could mean different things depending on time, context, and individual.

It�s only now, with my new Class, that I begin to understand the intricacies of the System and the reasoning behind the shifting symbolic language. The reason why some of the code, some of the commands feel so organic, why it alters consistently. And why and where such information is stable�just not in the way we�d expect.

The code, the information that those who delve into the System see, is not the true code. It�s an encrypted form of data, one whose encryption constantly shifts and changes. The code underlying the layer of encryption, the way the System is built, on the other hand, is more like an actual program�but with some organic, almost living, leeway built into it.

By drawing forth the same commands, the same information, again and again and spying on the data flow using my Class and Skill, I begin to grasp the underlying true code. In doing so, it allows me to Edit it with greater precision and finesse.

When I�m done, we no longer have our names, Classes, Titles, or anything else showing up in our Status information. The data mingles with the Skills and enchantments that it�d take another Admin to see the difference.

Hours at a jog that would be faster than an all-out sprint back on pre-System Earth takes us through rough terrain. Monsters lunge for us, trying to block our way, and die just as fast. A cat-like creature with extra limbs jumps at me and I grab it by the neck, smashing it into a living tree thing. The tree breaks, as does the cat-monster, and I drop a firestorm spell behind me, letting it consume the pair and the forest.

The cat�s a Level 70 creature, with Strengths in the hundred or so and a couple hundred in Agility. It is multiple times stronger than any normal human being. Even an Olympic weightlifter would be easily overpowered. But me? I cathandle it like, well, a housecat.

As for the forest fire, it�s of little concern. It�s too damp here, too infused with Mana to let it get out of control. The forest will damp it out most likely�either that, or make it grow even bigger and form a fire elemental in our wake. Either works, since I�d get a small experience payment from the fire elemental if it did form.

We run, Mikito swinging her naginata in quick figure eights that catch leaping monsters and tear apart limbs as she leads the charge. Occasionally, she leans forward and takes a monster in the chest with the improvised lance, the extreme sharpness of the curved blade of her polearm and her use of Skills more than making up for its non-optimal form for lancing.

And Harry? Harry glides along on modified hoverboots, in the middle and completely ignored. Because that�s his Skill, at least while he narrates a short documentary of the wildlife. His Class is weird.

In just under an hour, we make our way to the city of Siyoan, the closest hub city. From there, getting to the capital of Irvina will be simpler and mundane. Or as mundane as you can get when we�re discussing scifi-fantasy travel.

There are a wide variety of options for travel, from the blimp with starship thrusters to hypertube capsules that are fired through the air like artillery shells and short-range teleportation portals. There are even a few biological travel methods like oliphants and trans-dimensional shades. The sheer variety is enough to make one�s head explode if you think about it.

Head-explodingly variable being a good way of describing cities on the planet itself. Siyoan�s a riot of architecture, drawn from every fevered dream of fantasy and science fiction writers and crumpled together. Crystal buildings stand beside towering trees which entwine with the silver-steel metal of living nano buildings and System-generated ultra-burnished architecture. Walkways of glass, adamantium, and wood sway between buildings while Mana lights flood the shadowed ground.

And the people. The sapient�and some sentient�members of the population are just as varied. Not only do you have the normal array of weird-ass fantasy individuals�elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings, orcs, rock elementals, beastkin in all shapes and types�but you�ve also got their companions. This far out of the capital, there seems to be a larger variety of companion Classes, with the System-enabled residents riding, walking, flying, loping, and in a few cases burrowing through the city.

We�re also just seeing the oxygen-focused side of the city. The non-oxygen (or carbon dioxide) side, domed and protected, is even wilder. We just don�t deal with them as much, and their inherent lack of representation on the Council keeps them diminished in the System.

It�s just another way the entire thing is unbalanced, how power accrues at the top and almost constrains it there. Much of it is because of the Galactic Council themselves, who have taken pains to keep such strength to themselves, to lengthen their lives and to concentrate experience, Credits, and Mana to those above.

Even if, at times, the System fights them. But it�s not a hard push. The System is more concerned about overall effects, and for all that we�re an important linchpin to the churn of Mana, to keeping System-Mana running, we�re dwarfed by the monsters and vegetation the System creates. If not for our need to continually expand, to seed planets and form space stations in the void, we might not even be anything more than a footnote in the System�s calculations.

Or at least, that�s the feeling I get sometimes when I look at the System. Certainly, that pessimistic viewpoint is one of the leading theorems about sapient-System interactions. Others are less cynical, more optimistic. Pointing out that if we were that inconsequential, the Council would never be able to change the System at all.

We enter the city on foot, slipping among the throng without a problem. We get a few glances, but Harry�s Skill�Nothing to See Here�keeps us from attracting too much attention. We�ve got enchantments altering our species too, so we don�t look like three humans wandering around.

I guide the team with false confidence, Ali feeding me directions while we stroll. More than once, we move aside as adventuring teams return from the forest, bringing with them moving pallets piled high with corpses and other loot.

We�re nearly at our destination when trouble comes a-calling in the shape of a three-foot, flapping, bulbous-nose creature and his partner, a conch shell crustacean with a head that pokes out and peers at us while slimy tentacles erupt from the end of its shell. They buzz down in front of us, and when I sidestep, they move to block our way.

�Halt, adventurer. Please display your pass,� bulb nose says.

I look up, scanning his Status.

Jusbid Orea (Level 14 -Bureau of Land Management Enforcr-) (A)

HP: 1430/1430

MP: 1172/1570

Conditions: Land Sense, Networked Connection

A flicker later, his Status changes.

Jusbid Orea (Level 14 Irvina Ranger) (A)

HP: 1430/1430

MP: 1172/1570

Conditions: Land Sense, Networked Connection

�What the hell, Ali?� I send to the Spirit over our connection.

�Figured this is a little more self-explanatory.�

�Library, remember. I actually know what he is.�

Having the entire damn library shoved in my head means I�ve got a much better idea about Classes and Skills than ever before. And, amusingly enough, the BLM official is an actual Class�one formed after centuries of bureaucratic service had solidified the hiring requirements. Now, the position itself is a Class.

There are entire studies based off which Classes have formed in Irvina due to the ossification of its bureaucracy. Furthermore, there are even notes of the Questors going out of their way to create niche jobs within the bureaucracy just to test how the System creates Classes.

Which is why there�s a Class called Galactic Stimulant, Sedative, and Psychotic Tester and Supplier with attendant Skills and progressions. Their sole job, for centuries, was the dispensation of the Galactic equivalent of coffee. On a department level.

�Pass!� clicks the other creature.

I look at its name and its Class�similar to our friend�and decide to just call it Shelly. There�s no way I�m trying to pronounce the click-hiss-burble mess that is its name.

�Careful! We can�t get another bad evaluation,� Jusbid buzzes to his partner.

�Pass!�

I�d laugh, but I�m not even sure what they mean. Luckily, Harry slides forward into the gap my silence creates.

�I�m sorry, we don�t understand. What pass?� Harry says.

�Forest Reserve pass!�

�Ah�� Harry scratches his head, dialing up the charm all the way. He pushes out his official press pass. I didn�t even need to adjust it, since the press pass automatically shifts to keep track of Harry�s current name and face. Says something about the Galactic Press that it�s coded to do that. �I�m sorry, it seems we did not acquire one. We were just filming a small documentary��

�Then you need a media pass and an adventuring pass,� Jusbid says. He floats over to Harry, eyeing him. �How did you make it past the forest wardens?�

�Uhh� we didn�t see any?� I say.

�None? Impossible!� Shelly clicks, tentacles waving furiously.

�Not at all, since my friend speaks the truth,� Harry says.

They�ve got Skills running, making sure they can tell if we�re telling the truth. Or close enough, I�m sure.

�Impossible!� Shelly trembles, its whole conch shivering. �Invalid entrance! Slacking duty! Destruction of COLONY!�

�Easy there, partner, easy!� Jusbid floats down to Shelly, patting his hand on the shell. �Remember what Therapist Dofse said. Focus on yourself and the now.�

We trade glances between one another as Shelly slowly stops trembling. When Jusbid turns to us, I raise an inquiring eyebrow, hoping it translates.

�Don�t mind my partner, he�s just getting over a small incident last month.� Jusbid opens his hands and legs wide, displaying parts I didn�t need to see. Not that it�s arousing or anything, just� weird. The lack of pants is just wrong, but different species, different needs. �I hope it didn�t inconvenience you too much.�

�Not at all,� Harry says smoothly. �But we really didn�t know better. And we only taped a little before we came back.�

�Well, that�s not good. Illegal entry into the Forest Reserve is a crime,� Jusbid says.

I find myself tensing mentally, wondering if we�re going to have to kill them. Unfortunately, there�s such a wide array of surveillance devices around us and people, many of whom are flowing around the small diversion we�ve created, that any combat will attract attention. I bite my tongue, wondering if all we�ve done is going to end because of a stupid pass�

�Well, I�m sure it�s a problem. But is there something we can do�?� Harry says, his voice growing wheedling.

�Bribe! Wrong! Corruption!� Shelly twitches again.

Jusbid�s eyes narrow too.

Ali floats over, waving his upper limbs. Even the Spirit has changed how he looks, going for a cubic representation of himself, with four limbs but no real face. �No, no, no. No bribe. None of us would dare bribe a Bureau of Land Management official.� Ali shoots Harry a glare while he continues. �But isn�t this just a fine? Or something lesser we can plead to?�

�Fine! Imprisonment! CLEANSING!�

Surprisingly, Ali�s eyes lock onto Shelly. �Cleansing?�

�Community work,� Jusbid says. �In this case, there�s a parasitic mold that has invaded the lower sewer system that needs to be cleansed.�

�CLEANSED!�

�I assume it�s affecting your friend?� I nod to Shelly, whose back to trembling.

�It�s� well, a delicate matter. But if you are willing to�� Jusbid eyes our Levels�mine and Mikito�s in particular. I swapped out our Classes for Advanced ones, leaving us high leveled but not startling. �We could make use of you. It�s a burgeoning lair, and we�ll eventually get it sorted. But if we can save the department some money in hiring Adventurers��

�This parasite, it�s new? Unique?� Harry says, rubbing his chin. When he gets a nod from Jusbid, Harry grins. �Then we�ll do it. Fine us, then assign us to this. So long as I get broadcast rights.�

Jusbid hesitates, but at the clicks and chirps Shelly makes, he relents. A moment later, we�ve got a new map waypoint and a hundred thousand Credit fine each that we can work off.

Only when they�ve left us, heading for another group of scofflaws�aided by Class Skills and the omnipresent surveillance system of the city�do we dare to chat. In party chat, that is.

�That was nerve-racking. But why�d you agree to the Cleansing and not just pay the fine?� I send.

�Selling the story,� Harry says. �Better to let them think I�m a press-hungry reporter with a couple of hires than� well��

�Yeah. Better than that.�

Still, I can�t help but look back at the hidden forms of the enforcers and hope. Because if our cover is already blown, things are going to get a lot worse.

Chapter 8

�Get it off me!� Harry howls, twisting and scratching.

The living-mold thing crawls over Harry, its pink, furred, and mossy body shifting higher and higher toward his face, even as it grows from the ambient Mana in the sewer system.

�Oh, relax. We got this.� I chant another spell, sending lightning�unenhanced but guided with my Elemental Affinity�roaring through the air, jumping to strike Harry and the moss before moving onward.

The pink �flesh� crisps, the moss burning away before it flops to the ground, shocked. Flame washes over it as Mikito, wielding a flamethrower backpack that we picked up just for this, finishes off the monster.

We�ve been down here for four hours, working deeper and deeper into the sewer system. The sewer system that also doubles as a creche for Shelly�s race�and a few others. It seems the slime has taken over a few spots, destroying thousands of children.

It�s kind of fascinating, the way the city has managed to use their sewer system to create a biodiverse environment for some species as well as a highly regulated and ideal environment for spawning. Well, regulated until things go wrong, as Mana is wont to make happen.

Harry�s having the time of his life, narrating his research, giving me a glimpse of alien life that I have no desire to learn about. I might be more open-minded if the place didn�t stink to high heaven and its environment wasn�t caustic to our very existence. If not for System-aided regeneration, we�d be piles of bones right now. Unfortunately, I only realized after we were in that I couldn�t take out my Hod like I would normally without giving the game away.

�Damn it, that�s my fourth suit!� Harry says as he clambers to his feet, his outfit burnt through, exposing his skin to the flesh-eating atmosphere.

�Eh, told you to stop changing,� I say.

�Not all of us bought enchanted underwear. Or are exhibitionists,� Mikito says as she walks up to me, playing the flamethrower across the walls.

She�s on her second suit, being one to buy better quality than Harry. There are gaps in her clothing though, which might be interesting if I�d ever thought of Mikito that way. But really, it�d be like thinking of your sister in a sexual manner�weird and wrong.

Of course, to keep our cover, we�re also keeping our better pieces of equipment hidden. Along with the majority of our distinctive Skills. Otherwise, we�d be done already.

Really, playing as an Advanced Class is annoying.

�Hey, it was on offer! I�m surprised they had this set up, but I really can�t complain.� I grin and pull up the information about my clothing, even as slime drips and burns into my skin and the flesh underneath before it heals. It would be painful, if not for the significant amount of pain resistance my Class offers�well, that, and my resistance to acid damage.

Bainoff Enchanted Shocksilk Intimates (Tier I)

�Bainoff�s so good, we�re banned in 2,385 Countries!�

Chosen the world over by socialites and Adventurers, Bainoff�s Enchanted Shocksilk Intimates guarantee both the most comfortable, self-repairing, and cleansed undergarments and come with lifetime access and connection to our fashion database.

Effects: +42 Defense, +240% Resistance to physical, acid, fire, and energy damage. Self-Cleanse, Self-Mend, Self-Tailor, Autofit Enchantments.

Attribute Bonus: +213 Charisma (when seen), Status Effect: Swagger and Well-Endowed

Amusingly, among the many benefits of having entire departments devoted to handling the Paladins was a sponsorship center that had managed to get Bainoff to provide all the Paladins with underclothes free-of-charge. And I�ll admit, as I strut forward, there�s something to be said about how comfortable it is. Almost makes one forget they�re half-naked in a pile of goo. Of course, after all my attribute increases and the genetic wash, I�ve been known to take a few moments to admire myself in the mirror.

�Exhibitionist,� Ali sniffs. �But don�t worry, I got all this recorded, Mikito. For the future.�

�Can�t blackmail the shameless,� I pipe up.

�Har! We�ll see.�

Mikito looks between Ali and me, then at Harry, who is struggling to get dressed, his open, burning wounds healing over, and shakes her head.

�Bakayaro.� When that�s not enough to relieve her feelings, she adds, �Men!�

***

Hours later, we�re done. The last little bit, we�d had to pull out some bigger guns�literally�when we made it to the pulsing heart of the mutated moss lair. It burned and chokeed us, and even visibly mutated as we assaulted it, the mother moss attempting to shed its vulnerability to fire, then acid, then lightning. But it was outmatched and, in the end, succumbed to a gravitic mine.

There�s almost no useful loot. Even the mutated mother spore drops nothing more interesting than some Credits�surprisingly�and a container of body parts that Ali tells me we can sell for a few thousand Credits as research material.

�No wonder no one was doing this,� I grumble as we wait for the elevator doors to open. Thankfully, cleansing ourselves of the remainder of the spores was a simple matter of spells.

�Typical of living fungi. They�re either gold mines of usable resources or a complete waste of time,� Ali says.

�Cheap labor,� Mikito grumbles. �And lousy experience too.�

I nod. �I think we spent more on the actual gear than we earned.�

�Well, if you hadn�t thrown the gravitic mine at the end, we might have been up,� Mikito points out as she walks into the elevator.

I chuckle, joining her. �Too true, M.�

I laugh as she makes a face. Rather than go with remembering everyone�s new made-up name, I�ve taken to using their initials, which I didn�t change. Perfectly understandable, on all sides.

�At least you�re dressed now.�

�Hey, if you�ve got it, flaunt it.� I say, taking a bodybuilding pose and flexing.

Harry and Mikito goggle at me, and I admit, I can�t help but play the fool a little more while we walk out of the elevators. We keep joking while we make our way to the nearest network connection to fill out our report and buy our berths to Irvina.

Travel to Irvina is cheap(ish). We take a mid-grade option, one that lets us get to the city fast�a matter of hours instead of days, considering the size of the planet�but not startlingly so. Again, perfectly in tune with the kind of Advanced Classers we�re trying to impersonate.

The blimp we board is grey-and-white for its body, with a dark green highlight along the metal struts that hold the airbags together. The struts and lighting strips run along the inflated body to the starship engines, where Mechanics and Airship Crew work on the craft.

We follow the System-map to our private cabin. After disabling the couple of listening devices in the cabin, as well as paying for additional privacy restrictions, we relax.

Not that anything we do could truly be hidden if anyone is looking at us specifically, but it�s like finding information on the internet in the old ages. If you knew the website you were looking for, had its IP address or domain name, you could find it. But what if it was never linked? Never indexed? Then finding it requires you to know exactly the kind of questions to ask.

And we�re just floating pages, one of trillions of individuals. Even if they knew to look for us initially, our journey through the artificial Forbidden Zone and our secret entrance makes us the equivalent of a website that changed its domain name and swapped out IP addresses without leaving an auto-forward.

Can we be found? Maybe. It�d take a lot of effort, but eventually, if they swept everything, they�d find us. For now though, so long as we don�t pop up on any major security alerts, we should be invisible.

And that anonymity will be our weapon.

�Thousand hells, that was tiring,� I say, flopping down on a nearby couch. It conforms to me, leaving me staring at my friends as they make their own ways to their seats.

�Acting like a fool?� Ali asks.

�Funny.�

Mikito smiles slightly, before she grows serious, Hitoshi appearing in her hands. She strokes the shaft of her weapon. It�s an unconscious motion, a comforting one for her. �What do we do now?�

�We get to Irvina. We find a place to rest. Then, carefully, we look for a way to contact Katherine,� I say.

�How?� Mikito says.

I turn to look at Harry, curious if he has any suggestions. The Brit snorts when he spots me looking at him but then falls silent as he contemplates my question.

�Exactly,� Mikito says, her voice growing heavy. �I�m not sure what we�re doing, John. Or what even we can do. This isn�t a bunch of hopped up corporations or an Empire. This is the Galactic Council��

�Scared?� I say, a little surprised.

�Not for us.� She waves between her and me.

�Hey!� Ali says, realizing he�s not being included.

�But they�re targeting Earth too. They�re trying to take away its seat. They�re attacking our friends. And we�ve got a plan you say, but it�s not enough. Because it only solves the short-term problem. And it doesn�t deal with�� Mikito waves at me, over my head.

I�m surprised to see Mikito say this out loud. She�s often silent about her doubts, and it�s rare to see her vulnerable. Then again, it�s one thing to risk your life. It takes a different kind of courage�or a painful lack of empathy�to risk the lives of others.

�Truthfully, I�m not sure.� I frown, leaning back. �Not in the long term. Not yet.� I exhale, harshly, forcing myself to breathe. To circulate oxygen that I don�t need because I have to. �Maybe I do need to talk to the Administrators. But if so, it�s obvious the discussion has to be somewhere�� I trail off, unsure of what to say. Somewhere secure probably. That they control. Or I do. Problem is, they could have just contacted me if they wanted to talk.

Unless there�s a reason they didn�t. And if so, I don�t know what it is. No matter what I do, no matter how much I test the Skill, the Class, or push at the library, there�s nothing.

�But we need to sort this issue about Earth�s seat first. After that�� I sigh. �After that, we�ll have to get them to focus on us.�

I pause.

�Me.�

The pair nod. Knowing my secret, they realize what I�m trying to imply. That I�ll have to chat with the Council eventually, somehow. Figure out a way to have a discussion without being caught or locked down. If it is a discussion they want, which I doubt. Their actions are impetuous, weird. If they just wanted to speak, a simple message would have sufficed. If they wanted me dead, they could have acted immediately and ended me. Used assassins.

This� this makes no sense.

Unless they�re conflicted about their response. Or have other restraints I don�t know of. Or maybe they�re just trying to deal with more than one issue at a time. And this gives them a convenient excuse to finish off Earth.

Harry nods. �So firstly, contact Katherine silently. Work out who she needs. Then try to convince them to help. Or dissuade our detractors.�

I pull out a piece of chocolate, this one gold-foil-wrapped, and chew. I dismiss the minor mental buff it gives, instead enjoying the warm gooeyness and the thickness as it lies on my tongue. When I clear my throat, the pair stare at me.

�I think we might want to look at it the other way. Instead of bribing or cajoling people, we play the other side of the coin. We try to dissuade those who are going after Earth from voting. Maybe have them abstain�� There are a few raised eyebrows, but I hold up my hand. �Listen. We got the Erethrans. And I�ll speak with Duchess. But otherwise, what do we have?�

�Have?� Mikito says.

�Boy-o means leverage, right?� At my nod, Ali continues. �Political, social, economic leverage. Not Earth, just us.�

Silence is all that greets his words. For all that we might be high-Leveled or dangerous on an individual basis, we�re also, in many ways, unremarkable. Like most Adventurers, we pour most of our Credits into building ourselves up rather than building an economic engine.

We have little true political power. Sure, I helped the Erethrans and there�s some leverage there, but it�s leverage I�ve already tapped. Pushing further is probably a bad idea. The current Empress is less predisposed to like me than the Empress Apparent.

Socially, we have some strength individually. Harry has his fans and subscribers, his sources and contacts. Mikito has her fan club. But compared to the social strength of a single planet? Laughable.

�We have you.� Mikito says, her eyes floating above my head. To where my Heroic status sits.

No Title, no accomplishment from the System for it, but a Heroic Class, even one that�s broken like me, is still a power.

�Yeah� exactly.�

A threat. Using me as a rogue element, just as we did before. Someone who can go out of his way to find, hunt, and kill those who would act against us. But if we can do that, so can our enemies. And taking that step might be one too far.

With that dour thought, we fall silent.

***

Of course, we don�t sit there in silence, mulling over our lack of options. Harry does as he promised and researches Earth�s opponents, working with Ali to get a detailed analysis of the problem. Ali�s also�carefully�accessing information about Earth and Katherine�s status, looking for public data about her. We know where she and the surviving embassy personnel are living but figuring out a way to contact her is the tricky part. Thankfully, details about her aren�t particularly hard to find.

�You sure this is accurate?� I raise an eyebrow, staring at the garish newspaper that fills my vision. It�s displayed via my Neural Link, and one of a dozen different tabloids that Ali made me download. The one I�m regarding has a photo of Katherine on the arm of a rather robust gentleman who looks like a cross between a warthog and an anime character. In the Galactic equivalent of a suit, which involves lots of flowing tails and a hovering set of cloth-like wings.

�One hundred percent. Ms. Ward and the Grazish Heir are an item,� Ali confirms.

�And they�re going out.�

�Yup.�

�In public,� I verify.

�And canoodling.�

�Canoodling?�

�PDA. Getting handsy. Making the little spirit pay respects to the mother spirit.�

�That�� I shake my head, refusing to be distracted. �Is it safe?�

�Why shouldn�t it be?� Ali retorts.

�Because they killed Phil.�

�He�s not her,� Ali says. �Officially killing the actual delegate is a major no-no. Unofficially, they might go after her, but you heard what Bolo said about anarchy. It might also stop you, boy-o, from coming to Irvina. Anyway, no one�s taking potshots and potentially hitting the Grazish Heir.�

�And why�s that?� I say, only to catch Mikito muttering baka in my direction before returning to her research.

I glance over, but she�s focused on her own notification, so I leave her be. She�s got the job of working out potential vulnerabilities between our enemies�specifically, looking at those who voted against us before. If she can find a few we can convince to not vote against us, even if it means being neutral, that�s as good as a vote for us. After all, while I might think of it as a specific vote, it�s more a dedication of resources. So they�re all already inclined to not paying the System Mana to make any particular vote workable since they�d then be less able to influence the next vote.

In fact, a few planets have been known to not vote at all, abstaining but holding the possibility of using their entire accumulated System-voting Mana at one time as a way to get what they want. Of course, it�s a dangerous game to play since once it�s all used up, their bullet is wasted. And there�s always the danger of conquest� but some still dare.

�Because he�s the Heir,� Ali says slowly and clearly.

�You keep saying that��

Ali throws up his hand. �Listen to me carefully. Grazish. Heir.�

I open my mouth to scold Ali, but that�s when the damn library in my head kicks off. I don�t fade out, I don�t lose sense of my surroundings. But I still get the download.

Heirs. A special Class within the System. Not always guaranteed to be given, not always available. And it is, in many cases, a crappy Class. It doesn�t give you Skills for combat or even Artisan-type Skills. It is, however, extremely useful for survivability. The three pillars of the Heir Class revolve around survival Skills: increases in attributes, increases in resistances and immunities to poison and the like; networking Skills including Aura Skill�s and Reputation bonus upgrades; and retribution Skills.

Like the penultimate Skill of the Basic Class under the retribution side for the Grazish Heir.

No Insult Unpaid (Level 1)

A Grazish does not condone insults. He does not allow those who have stained his honor or offered harm to him or his personnel to escape without retribution. Only proper recompense will see the ending of the feud with the Grazish. Mana Regeneration decreased by 5 permanently.

Effect: An Insult Marker is applied to each individual who insults or otherwise provokes the Grazish Heir. Each Insult Marker decreases cost of tracking spells, information purchases, and retributive Skills by 20%. Mark may only be dismissed by the Heir or those of higher Status than the Grazish Heir.

�And the Grazish are�?�

�Old money, as you humans might say,� Ali says. �Powerful private corporation with its own Guild, security force, and Leveling teams. They keep things in-house for the most part, leveling the heirs�capital H or not�in safety, then they switch over Classes when they�ve hit the required Level.� Ali shrugs. �At least, some of them. Some take a more active part in their own Leveling.�

I see the threat this can create. Getting rid of a Marker like this must be difficult, and if they�re old enough money, they�re just as likely to kill those who insult them as listen to excuses. Scorched earth tactics are a favorite of the old families, especially against contractors. It helps keep things civilized.

I frown. �Why is she dating him?�

�Nice thighs?� Ali offers.

�Butt,� Mikito corrects. Then tilts her head as she considers the picture. �Thighs are pretty good too.�

�Seriously.�

Ali drops the humor, flicking his fingers. A picture of Earth shows up, then it shifts. Small flags appear all across the globe as he continues. �Those cities have all special sponsored links from the Grazish corporation to the default Shop. As well as sponsored ads and sales prices for direct System-bought items.�

�They can lower the cost via sponsorship?� I say, surprised.

Another flicker of Ali�s fingers, and this time, small containers appear across the globe. Not as many by far, but some are in the middle of the ocean, surprisingly enough.

�Teleport and storage locations. If you get them close enough and provide the right kind of tech, you can lower teleport cost from the System.�

�Smart,� I praise.

Ali nods. �The Grazish corporation was the one that came up with the idea and exploited it, building out their teleport platforms near the start of the System. Since then, they�ve kept their first mover advantage.�

�So you think he�s helping her? Letting her meet who she needs in public while ostensibly �dating� her?�

Ali nods.

I consider the possibilities. If they�re in public, there�ll be more eyes on them. At the same time, the Heir is rich enough that their social schedule will likely be extra secure. That�s the thing about the capital�everyone�s so used to clandestine meetings, most upscale locations have their own safe rooms. Never mind the more downscale ones I�ve used before.

And it might be safer to meet them in public than try to do so at their residence. That�s definitely going to be watched.

�Find out their social schedule. We�ll try to do a meetup that way,� I say.

In the meantime, while the others work on the problem for Earth, I focus my attention on the Council. The inner Council of the Galactic Council, the nine (or so) permanent seats that make up the ruling council. They run everything on a day-to-day basis and they�re the ones most likely to view me as a problem.

Nine individuals. Of the major political factions in the System, only the Galactic Edge and Artisans have seats as a faction. The Truinnar sit for the Galactic Edge�the expansionist group�while an old Nang Mai sits for the Artisans. The tree-like humanoid creature is one of the longest-serving members of the Council, and probably could hold his position by sheer virtue of strength and reputation alone if he sought it.

Neither the Traditionalists nor the Fist hold position on the council as a faction. You could say it�s a weakness of their own philosophies. Or just an argument about how long they�ve been around as factions, requiring them not to have a grouped �bloc� to give them strength.

On top of that, we�ve got the Erethran and Movana representatives who are just that�representatives.

Of the remaining five, they sit on the council as independents, powers in themselves or for the planets they rule.

The Weaver is one. His body is bloated in the picture I�ve got, but his eyes�seven eyes on his face, another two that rise on tentacles from his forehead�draw attention. Fingers, long and nimble, twist and twitch, spasm in never-ending movement. Rumors are that he weaves fates in his fingers constantly, altering destines of peasants and Legendarys with as much disregard.

The Lady of Shadows, she who few dare name, is another. Their intelligence asset, their Legendary spymaster. There are too many stories about her, many conflicting. Even her gender is in dispute, for information on one whose entire Class is focused upon cloaking and information dispersal cannot be trusted. Not even in the smallest detail.

The Dragon. Oldest of its kind, supposedly. It rarely shows up at meetings, rarely chooses to involve itself. It flies between stars, deep within the Forbidden Zone. As large as Jupiter itself, a monstrous creature whose Level is known to have breached at least five hundred. Maybe more.

Ares. Yes, that Ares�the one who runs the largest arms manufacturing company in the Galaxy, ruler of multiple manufacturing planets, the merchant of death. He�s just as bad as the Dragon, always in the Forbidden Zone. Though he turns up for meetings more often. When he�s not around, his daughter Nanaya sits in his place. Like him, she�s a Legendary, though she�s less direct warfare, a creature of deadly beauty and duels.

And finally, there�s the Emperor. If you�re unkind and feeling particularly secure, the Emperor of Nothing or Emperor of Ruins. For his empire is gone, his people scattered. He rules over nothing and no one, for the System has taken it all from him. And yet, he still lives. Wizened, ancient, he looks like an angel if your vision of an angel includes four wings, a pair of eyes on the end of his hands, and a blank, featureless face.

Nine individuals. Sometimes there are more, sometimes less. You get your seat by strength of arms, by influence, by acknowledgement. Any who desire a seat on the inner Council may do so. And if they chose wrongly, they die. Some last a few years, others a few centuries.

These are the people who would have started the problems with Earth. Except, something tells me it�s not all of them. The secret of my Class, of being an Administrator, isn�t something so easily bandied about. There have been hints, both in passing and in the library, that there is another circle, another group that rules. Made up of Legendarys and, I must assume, Administrators. I need to figure out those names, but since I have only the main Council to go from, I start there.

I kick off the Erethran and Movana representatives from consideration. They don�t matter. The Nang Mai might know about us Administrators, but he�s well-known to not dabble too greatly in politics. A neutral party looking out for Artisans. Maybe an ally in that sense, but probably not.

That leaves pretty much the named individuals. The Lady of Shadows and Lies is the obvious first choice. Hiding a secret means she�s part of it. The others are harder to tell. I�d guess Ares is out. He�s a known meathead and this seems above his paygrade. On the other hand, he�s a Legendary. It�s hard to get that far by being a complete idiot. And he has a daughter who is smarter than he is.

The Dragon might be part of whatever inner circle there is that knows the secret. And the Emperor. Both are old enough that if they were searching for secrets�or through blind luck�they might have stumbled onto this knowledge.

The rest though� the Weaver is a Questor. Or at least, partial to us. Or was. Or maybe just out for the highest bidder. I don�t know, it�s hard to say with his history. He is what I would consider a moderate ally on the Council, if I have one. I doubt he�s in the inner-inner circle though, or he wouldn�t be a Questor anymore.

Then again, like my Society�s Web Skill, his own Skills and Class might give him a head start on such secrets. When you�re looking at the threads of society or fate, some secrets reveal themselves to you inadvertently.

But those are all guesses. The problem with a secret organization is that it�s secret. And guessing might be a problem if I try to contact the wrong person.

As I dig into stories about each council member, trying to find a clue, a detail that might interact with what I know, what the library might contain, a loud beep startles us all. Hours have passed without us realizing it.

And we�re finally here. In Irvina once again.

We stand and walk toward the exit, ready to enter our enemies� lair. And if we�re flies heading in to see the spider, I just hope we�re mutated flies. Or else this will end badly.

Chapter 9

Finding a place to lay low is easy enough. Hundreds of residences have been set up to handle the floating population of Adventurers, businessmen, and Artisans. So many Adventurers only come to Irvina for a short while to run a few specific dungeons before moving on.

Irvina itself has not changed much, being made of multiple ring districts. The first ring is where the Galactic Council holds its meetings, and the core of the city is within. Each ring from there grows in size and decreases in security.

This time around, we end up in the sixth ring. Far enough away that we�re out of sight, and a little on the lower end for Advanced Adventurers but not uncommon. It�s also only a short flight into the second or third ring if we want to meet with Katherine and the socialites.

Travel through the towering skyscrapers and myriad building designs of the city is as eclectic as the System. Some people fly on their own power. Others take the flying vehicles or creatures that ply the air, while transit options in terms of vacuum-filled bullet trains take the masses. For the most part, the plan is to take automated vehicles since Harry and I have had bad experiences with mass transportation.

The residence we rent is the Galactic equivalent of a four-bedroom condominium, the last bedroom adjusted to be a sparring ring. We pay a slight premium for such a residence, but again, nothing too surprising. Once we�re in, we sweep the place for bugs, plant our own, and boost the security of the residence with a variety of pre-purchased items. Everything from talismans on walls to increase their durability and shielding spells to prevent spying as well as a few discreet nano-formed energy turrets.

Once we�re settled, Harry makes his way out to meet with some of his contacts. For the reporter, many of his sources will only speak with him in person.

Which leaves Mikito and myself to get in contact with Katherine. And thankfully, Ali�s found a decent option tonight. Even if it�s not what I�d expect.

�A gallery opening?� I mutter, staring at the brochure and pair of tickets the Spirit has managed to score for us.

�Not just any gallery opening. It�s Moyo Jin�s gallery opening!� Ali snaps. When I shrug, he rolls his eyes. �Philistine. Moyo Jin hasn�t had a showing in three decades.�

I shrug again.

�There was an old work of his in my latest arena title defense. Meditating before it for a half hour gave me a bonus to my attributes and an additional passive defense Skill,� Mikito says. �One with Air.�

One with Air (Level 1) (B)

Legend has it that the first wind sylphs taught Evasoo, the martial warrior of air and void, this Skill directly before the advent of the System. When his planet was integrated, Evasoo gained his unique Class and this Skill, allowing him to float between the attacks of the monsters that dared to populate his planet. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5 permanently.

Effect: Increases dodge skill by 20, increases environmental perception by 50, and allows one use of Peerless Dodge every ten minutes.

Peerless Dodge Effect: Increases dodge ability by 200 for one attack

I note the lack of a capital S on the skills, meaning that the increases are all effectively making someone better at dodging and perceiving the world rather than actively manipulating reality. It�s a fine distinction, and there�s an argument for Skills that affect skills. After all, for someone like Mikito, who relies on mundane skill to cross the threshold of raw power, the boost could make a big difference. Then again, raw power has a quality of its own.

A face-smashing quality.

�Do you lose Mana regeneration because of the bestowed Skill?� I ask. It�s the first I�ve heard of an artifact from an Artisan providing not just regeneration or attribute buffs but a passive Skill buff.

�No,� Mikito says. �But the buff is often short term. In this case, only twenty minutes.�

More than long enough for an arena battle. Not so much if you were crafting. Though I guess if you were crafting, you might be able to put his artwork in front of you and get the boost anyway.

Huh.

�What level of work was it?� I ask.

�Heroic.�

�Of course it is.� I rub my chin, considering. I mean, I do have an Altered Storage space. If I could slip one of the works into it and stare at it before a fight, an extra Skill would be nice. Even if it is a Basic Skill. �All right, so we do the gallery opening. We find a place to talk to Katherine in the gallery and hopefully, find out who we can target. Sounds simple enough.�

�You had to say that, didn�t you?� Ali says, and I wince.

Oops.

***

Getting into the third ring requires a little work on my side, an adjustment on the pass restrictions that we received upon arriving in Irvina. The ones we originally received allow us to the fourth ring at most, and that with an additional payment. A minor push with the System Edit Skill changes them so that we can enter the third ring without issue and the second with a permit request.

The actual editing of our passes takes a bit. Partly because whoever designed the System for verification is paranoid. There are multiple safeguards in place, including a check against a central database, none of which I�d have known except for the fact that we had our previous permits. Using that as the basis for our amended permits, I was able to do the System-equivalent of hack the various databases.

Wielding the System Edit Skill is painful, as it floods my body with System Mana. Each time I try to read anything, try to Edit anything, I need to call that particular piece of code into my very body before I can begin the process.

It�s painful and drains me of Mana at an astounding rate, but I get the job done. Once I�m finished, I verify that I�m not being logged before I move on. Thankfully, whoever decided to create Admin positions as Classes didn�t also include a logging function. At least, not for our actual use of Skills.

It�s an interesting factor, meaning that once you change something, unless you keep track of the changes yourself, it�s never possible to go backward. Of course, I�ve got so many restrictions on what I can see or edit that this might only be for non-essential areas.

As I continue to play with my Skill, I learn the extent of my influence, and unsurprisingly, it�s nowhere as large or wide as I�d like. I do wonder how much of that is because I�m a Junior Administrator and how much is because I�ve only got access to a single Skill thus far.

Questions, questions, questions.

�Wake up, boy-o,� Ali sends.

I look up in time for the private bubble car to slide to a halt beside the building. I resolutely don�t look down since the floor is transparent and there are thousands of meters beneath my feet. The gallery we�re visiting is expensive, which means it�s located high up in Galactic society parlance.

In short order, we step out and join the small line of visitors. Wind catches and tugs at our clothing, threatening to blow us off the long balcony leading to the entrance proper with each gust. The constant hum and hiss of arriving flying cars floats down from the roof, where the rich and powerful arrive, and mixes with the whirr of constant video recordings. Muffled words, shouts, arrive in broken sentences, before another twist of the wind carries the words away.

Along with the noise and the cold of the altitude, there�s the smell. It�s floral with a hint of salt and thyme, piped into the open-air bay we stand in, along with a touch of heat to keep the place from being completely inhospitable.

Most of those who stand here don�t seem bothered. I let my gaze flick across the numerous well-dressed individuals�and let me tell you, what is considered well-dressed in Galactic society is jaw-droppingly varied due to the mixture of cultures�and pick out the varied methods used to deal with the cold and winds.

Enchantments, glowing to provide strength and warmth. Deceptively light cloth or fur, taken from creatures in cold dungeons, that negate thermal penalties. Spells wrapped around auras. And in a very few cases, like the pair of us, just incredibly high Constitutions.

In fact, lack of clothing and protection seems to be as much a statement as the expensive materials some people wear. And while most of the clothing is civilian in form, in function, it could easily work as combat ware. Bonuses to Constitution, Strength, Agility are all in play, as well as the softer attributes. The most expensive pieces of equipment even boost Aura skills.

�Does no one understand subltety?� Mikito mutters.

Standing in line, we�re buffeted by multiple Auras, pheromone- and scent-based attacks, and Charisma-based enchantments.

I grunt in reply, handing our pair of tickets to the crocodile-like humanoid attendant. Ali, even when pressed, refused to admit how he got those tickets on such short notice. I am somewhat concerned, but considering we�ve been here before, I take it on good faith they didn�t come with too many strings attached.

�Flaunting your power is important,� Ali says in a not-so-quiet whisper. �Especially since you can�t do it inside.�

�Why not?� I say, surprised as I take the tickets back. I step forward, only to halt as the crocodile speaks.

His voice grates and hisses, but it�s also surprisingly well-enunciated. �Aura Skills would affect the artwork. Especially in large numbers.�

�Ah!� I nod. �Thank you.� And then, on a whim, I offer him a hand and send over a Credit tip when he takes it.

The crocodile-man grins and leans down, whispering, �If you speak to Trez on the third landing, let him know Idz says you�re good people and to let you in.�

I blink, but nod in thanks before moving away from the crocodile. Staying too long would make too big a scene. As it is, our clothing is close enough to being high quality, but I have a feeling close isn�t exactly sufficient.

As we head in, I can�t help but ask Ali for clarification.

�Private viewing. There�s the kind of place you get in if you�re invited. They�ll have the better pieces in there. Or the stuff that has been pre-sold but the buyers still want to show off,� Ali says.

I crane my neck upward as we wander into the gallery proper. The entire thing takes up three stories, with a central open-air area and wide winding ramps that snake around the periphery. Along the walls and sometimes smack dab in the middle of the ramps themselves are the art pieces.

�Now what?� Mikito says as we stare at the central piece, joining the audience.

The central piece reminds me of modern art, if modern art was sculpted in light and sound, in taste and Mana. It�s impossible to see it fully without Mana sense, and even then, the more you stare, the more is revealed as the sculpture shifts and changes. Eventually though, there�s a pattern to the movement. A story perhaps, or just guided fluctuations in Mana.

�We look around. And maybe buy something,� I say to Mikito as we continue to stare at the artwork.

More than a few sapients stop and regard the work. Some take to the sky, floating above us. After a few minutes of regard, I get the buff that increases my Perception by tens of points and even gives me a passive Skill effect for the next hour that extends my physical senses and my concentration levels. Nothing more than a Basic Skill, but I could see a corporation purchasing something like this and leaving it in their lobby to give their employees a boost.

Idly, I look at the price of the piece and choke.

�You could buy a damn warship with that!� I splutter.

My outraged utterance gets more than a few disdainful looks and one fart noise from a ball-like creature. Mikito rolls her eyes while Ali is clutching his sides, rolling around in the air as I finally realize how expensive this work really is.

�You knew,� I state flatly to Ali, dropping my voice as we head away.

�Oh yeah, boy-o.� Ali sniffs. �This is artwork made by a Heroic Class artist! Of course it�s expensive.�

I can�t help but shake my head as we make our way up one of the ramps. My minor outburst is thankfully soon forgotten. As we regard more of the pieces, I realize they�re not all that expensive. Still stupidly so�the cheapest and smallest piece is still in the tens of millions of Credits�but not warship-level expensive.

Still out of my price range anyway.

As we walk along, Mikito and I do our best to blend in. Unsurprisingly, Mikito does better than I do. She�s a little more socially savvy than me. She knows how to blend in, become part of the crowd.

I�ve rarely had the chance to do so. Not in these kinds of circles at least. It�s a novel sensation, being relatively unknown. I actually don�t mind it. It�s a little reminder of my forgotten humanity, of a time when I was your basic geeky programmer. Infamy was never something I cared about, except as a tool.

There�s also something weird about wandering through an art gallery when you�re public enemy number one. Knowing that if you�re caught, chances are it�s the end of it all. Thankfully, nervousness from being an outlaw and nervousness at being in a social situation is all the same.

The artwork is varied. Mostly sculptures of one form or another, but in detail, it�s different. The artist is working in multiple dimensions, not just within simple sight, but sound, smell, Mana, time, and sometimes even pure chaos.

Something made of stone twists and turns, rising up in the sky before swooping down, a never-ending spiral whose lines makes you fall with your eyes into a blank hole in its center that becomes something. An exhibit so hidden that you�re not entirely sure what it is you�re seeing. You smell it, leaning forward, then it�s gone.

Another notification, another boost.

Mikito moves differently than I do. I stop, regarding each work for a bit, watching the various visitors dart about the gallery, paying attention to the works until I get a bonus, then I move on. Mikito, on the other hand, brushes past the vast majority of the work, only pausing once in a while to fall into deep thought before a piece. She�s specific in her taste, whereas I�m dabbling.

And in the midst of all of this, attendants move with drinks, snacks, and notepads. Waiters feed us while salespeople try to talk up each particular work. After the first one I decline, they leave me alone. In fact, they hover around Mikito, almost as if they can sense that she�s more of an opportunity than myself.

I have to admit, after staring at the prices, I�ve lost any interest. Frankly speaking, I�d rather pay for premade foods from Master Classers to give me a boost than run around with artwork. Consumables are still expensive, but overall cheaper. Not that I bother too often. Alchemists can generally generate the same effects with potions at a lower cost. Though if you really want to min-max, you could consume both since they�re often separate stacking bonuses.

I know some of the more focused individuals do that, and while I�m not opposed to bonuses, the issue is cost, supply, and reliance. Grow too reliant on something that costs too much and when you don�t have it, your entire performance level drops.

It�s kind of like doping in the pre-System world. Sure, you can dope and you can do well�even better than your competitors. But what if you get caught? Or have to stop? The withdrawals and the lack of ability afterward is significant as you retrain.

In either case, we make our way up the art gallery until we arrive at the doors of the VIP section. Ali�s been paying attention to the guests, but thus far, Katherine and her date have yet to make an appearance. We�ve been delaying our movements as long as possible, hoping she�ll come out and see the rest of the exhibition. But it seems they�ve chosen to hang out with the VIPs, leaving us to wait.

It�s frustrating, but luck is with us since we have a way in. A little more Credits, a smile, and a good word gets us in where we weren�t meant to be. Though I assume, to some extent, there are exceptions already built in socially for cases like this. I can�t help but wonder how much of our entrance is because of Luck or Charisma, how the System gently nudges things when it needs.

�Oh, this is much more like it!� Ali crows and darts over to the VIP buffet table.

I look it over and wince, since this is a Galactic event. The offerings are wide ranging, from meats of identifiable�read, with bodies and heads attached�and unidentifiable variety, as well as other forms of consumables. There are crystalline rods filled with raw Mana, electricity, and radioactive material. There are swirling globes of smoke that can be broken open and sniffed, and glass flutes of liquid nourishment.

While I�m pretty open about food I�m willing to eat, I do draw the line at sapient creatures. Which, in a few cases, are displayed on the buffet table. There are even a few living creatures, pain receptors neutered via Skills and technology, that are ready to be consumed.

Ali sweeps in, grabbing hold of one of the crystalline rods. He proceeds to open his mouth wide, swallowing the rod and the sparkling energy within in a sword-swallowing act that would win awards. For a moment, his tiny form shifts colors, growing more solid and opaque before he stabilizes.

�Whoa! Good stuff.�

I snort and almost miss the waiter who replaces the energy flute. There�s enough food on the hovering multi-tiered tables to feed every single visitor in the gallery three times over. But the gods forfend that it look as if they might run out.

�Gallery,� Mikito says, elbowing me in the side.

I bring my attention back to the gathering and blink when I realize more than a few eyes are fixed upon us. More than one gaze is filled with disdain, and for the bodyguards, professional suspicion.

I wave, offering them a weak grin. �Hi?�

***

Thankfully, my smile and greeting seems to diffuse the situation. Not so much because it�s what is expected but because they automatically label us as hicks and proceed to ignore us. Of course, that doesn�t let us off entirely. A quartet of uniformed security personnel sweep in, their fixed stares daring us to try to run.

�Oy! Find Katherine. Fast!� I send to Ali while sweating mental bullets.

The Spirit does a little bob and freezes in place, flicking through sensor data.

There�s no real danger in getting my ass kicked, but any altercation will lead to our identities being revealed. And that, more than anything else, is what I intend to avoid.

�Evening, gentlepeople,� I say when they close. Of course, gentlepeople isn�t the exact word I use in Galactic�the closer translation is something like �worthy and honored sapients,� but gentlepeople is much nicer.

The four that close in on us are made up of three Hakarta�two men and a woman�and a single crystalline figure. It moves with a grace that belies its appearance, more liquid rock than sharp-edged body.

It�s the living crystal that speaks. �Passes please.�

I give them a smile and extract our tickets, handing over the two slips.

Crystal takes one look at them and hands them back to me, its voice still pleasant. �These are for the general viewing floor.�

�There�s more than one kind of floor?� I give them big eyes. �I didn�t know. But the works here look so much nicer��

�How did you acquire these tickets?� Crystal says, not at all affected by my poor attempt at charming them.

Mikito steps up next to me and places an arm around mine, almost leaning into me, and giving them a cool smile at the same time. �My husband�s Spirit took care of it. We don�t really bother with such trivial things.�

�And what do you bother with?� Crystal says, its gaze sweeping over us and our clothing. Thankfully, with so many individuals, high culture for clothing isn�t so much a specific type of style and more to do with cut and expense. Still, I�m getting the feeling that our attempt at fitting in is insufficient.

�And why would that matter?� Mikito says archly. �We�re here to view Moyo Jin�s work, not answer to impertinent questions.�

�Found her! And contacting��

Crystal glowers at her words. �Below, it might not matter. But this portion of the event is exclusive. Reserved for those who have the right Levels. Or connections.�

I wonder then if perhaps we had been found out from the very beginning. Did I insult the man below, offer too little a bribe? Did I make a misstep then? Or was it now when Ali acted like a bore? Or myself when I said hi? Should I have just strutted in as if I owned this place?

Perhaps.

Spending years, nearly a decade, killing monsters, fighting Master Class and higher enemies has done little to aid my social acumen. I was never a socialite, but a simple programmer. And not even that successful a one. Parties like this, where I start out of my element just means I sink faster.

�Well, I�ve never been so insulted�� Mikito tilts her chin higher, staring down her nose at Crystal, who seems unperturbed by her actions.

But I also note Crystal and its people don�t seem worried either. They�re treating us like party crashers, not true threats.

�You may complain to my manager if you wish,� Crystal says as he steps forward, a glittering, clawed hand sweeping to point at the door behind us.

�Ali!�

�Katherine says go. And wait.�

When Mikito opens her mouth to protest further, I tug on her arm gently and step back. She turns and glares at me while I lower my voice. Low enough to be a whisper, even if I know anyone here would hear it if they bothered. Damn Perception increases.

�Let�s not cause a scene, dear. We couldn�t afford the pieces in here anyway,� I say.

�That�s not the point!� Mikito says.

�The point will be them tossing us out physically, if we don�t move.�

Mikito sniffs again and detaches herself from my arm. She stalks out the door, and I turn to the group, offering them an open-handed and sheepish shrug. I can�t read Crystal, but I catch a flicker of amusement among the Hakarta guards.

Outside, the pair of us move away from the doorway, down to a mostly empty landing where a twisted sculpture, when viewed, gives a bonus to Intelligence�specifically, mental arithmetic calculations. It also is made up of some annoyingly high-pitched auditory passages. It�s one of the least popular showings because of that.

�So, that went well,� I say, leaning in to speak with Mikito.

�It did not!� she replies, her voice still heated. �You always embarrass me like that.�

�Oh, I do, do I?� I say. �As if I wanted to come to these things.�

�Keep your voice down. They�re still watching us!� Mikito says.

�And why should I care?�

Mikito growls and turns away, breaking off eye contact with me and looking instead ostensibly at the big center piece. I sniff, staring at her back, and turn to view a smaller piece, watching as Ali floats down to me. He�s been ejected from the room too, though he took his time leaving.

�Nicely done. People are looking away for the most part,� Ali confirms.

�You think we�re good?�

�Mostly. Katherine�s on her way. So just play the stricken lovers for a little more.�

�We still need a place to meet, in private,� I point out.

�Yeah, yeah. We�ll figure it out.�

I snort, then rub my ears. Hopefully the woman arrives soon. Because there�s only so long I want to listen to this buzzing.

Chapter 10

Rather than meet us directly, Katherine sends a waiter who directs us to the top of the gallery. We cross by the stone-faced guard of the VIP room, who refuses to look at us, and end up in a smaller room, one whose doors slide open and shut behind us, leaving behind the waiter who escorted us.

Lights flicker on, and I find myself regarding a miniature city that dominates the room. I frown, walking forward and cocking my head, struck by the incongruity of the piece.

�What the hell is this?� I mutter.

There are even tiny figures, barely half an inch tall, who I could almost swear are alive, so lifelike are their motions. If not for the lack of any differentiation in the Mana flows through them, I would never have guessed them to be tiny golems.

�The next showing,� Katherine�s voice cuts in.

I turn, spotting her emerging from another doorway, and take a moment to assess the woman. She�s looking good for her age, not seeming to have aged a day since I first met her nine years ago. Her hair might be a little paler and greyer, the eyes a little harder, but she�s still the middle-aged secretary who�d introduced herself to me when I took over Vancouver.

�A miniature city, one that depicts life as it could be, or should be. There are a few more such cities, each revolving around another race, another political system. If you watch them long enough, you can see them play out day-to-day lives, revolutions and wars and social unrest. And then peace again. Or never-ending war,� Katherine says.

�So, a real work of art, not a toy for Skills,� Mikito says, walking over to Katherine.

Mikito hesitates for a second when she gets close, but Katherine doesn�t, throwing her hands around Mikito and giving her a hug that the little Japanese woman returns.

Into her neck, Mikito mutters, �It�s good to see you.�

�And you. I�ve been watching your fights.�

�You have?�

�Of course. You�ve got quite a following on Earth too, you know,� Katherine says, making Mikito blush. She hangs her head, while Katherine lets her go and smiles. �You�ve done well.�

Mikito steps back, shifting back to her impenetrable mien. To everyone but me, it�d be easy to miss the flush of happiness she is doing her best to hide.

�And you�ve made trouble,� Katherine says, her voice growing colder as she faces me.

�I� didn�t mean to this time?� I say, offering as explanation.

Katherine snorts, taking the couple of steps needed to close in on me and give me a hug. �Whatever, you idiot.�

I hug her back, but I don�t take my eyes off the fourth person in the room. Not that the hug is as long or as personal as the one she gave Mikito. Unlike Lana and Mikito, I barely spent any time with Katherine before I was thrown into the Forbidden Zone.

It�s a good thing the hug�s over quickly, since our silent watcher is hanging back and looking grumpy. Hiding in the shadows, as if he could hide. Considering he�s neither human nor expected, the Grazish Heir is like a six-foot-tall man in a children�s ballet class.

Like the picture I saw, he�s dressed in a mixed-robe and ribbon outfit, with tails that float behind him, wings and ribbons twisting in a non-existent wind. The colors of his clothes and ribbons are myriad, shifting through the colors of the rainbow and yet coordinating with one another. Still, the warthog humanoid is distinctly inhuman as dark eyes stare at me, its pupils almost lost in the shadows of its overhanging eyebrows.

Reqm Harsem, Thirty-Eighth Heir of the Grazish Clan, Warden of the Eleventh Ward of Esuma, Lasard Mo-ki of the Rawce Clan, Corporate Raider, � (Grazish Heir Level 19) (M)

HP: 2380/2380

MP: 2210/2210

Conditions: Linked Health, Second Chance: Rise, Shielded, Aura of Wealth

�You okay?� I say as I detach from her.

�Better, now that you�re here. And you can relax, Reqm is on our side.� Katherine beckons and Reqm walks forward, offering us a weird snapping salute with his left hand in greeting.

�You sure?� I say.

�You can rest assured, I would not betray my Gasjen,� Reqm says.

�Gasjen?A gas generator?�

�Funny. No. Uhh�� Ali falls silent, accessing information while I watch as Katherine steps away from me and returns to Reqm�s side. Closer now, they twine fingers together. �Oh, wow. Yeah, that�s��

�Girlfriend?� I supply.

�Betrothed. First among his betrothed.�

�Wait.� I hold up a hand and stare at Ali before looking at Katherine. �You guys are an item?�

�Yes,� Katherine answers.

�Of course,� Reqm says.

�It�s not just a cover?�

�Why would I do that?� Reqm looks honestly puzzled. �Do humans do that� oh wait. Yes. Of course. She is not my beard.�

�That�s not�� I splutter.

Katherine whisper something into Reqm�s ear while he continues to regard me.

When he replies to her, his voice isn�t as low. �He�s not really that impressive. Are you sure it�s him they want?�

�Oy. Pumbaa. Enough for now. This is a private talk,� I say. �While this place might be private, I�m not sure I�d call it discreet. Or safe.�

Katherine gives me a half-smile and holds up a single finger. A moment later, a notification appears before me.

Diplomatic Silence (Level 4)

Every form of government requires a way to keep secrets and negotiate in private. Using this Skill, the Diplomat ensures that what is said within the radius of the discussion is safeguarded. This Skill works in tandem with the government System-purchased buff National Secrets for additional effects. Mana regeneration reduced by 20 permanently.

Effect: Increases cost of information and other surveillance Skills by a factor of 4. Receives an additional 54% of National Secrets government buff.

�Fine,� I grumble good-naturedly. �And I assume that�s running all the time?�

�Of course,� Katherine says. �Reqm has a similar Skill. His grandfather also has a constant counter-espionage Skill running on his family, as does Earth.�

�Wait, counter-espionage Skill?� I say.

�It informs us if someone is purchasing information or attempting surveillance,� Reqm says.

�Ah�� I nod. That makes sense. Still� �It�s the Lady of Shadows��

Katherine shakes her head. �There�s a lot of misinformation about her. She�s not infallible. She�s just a Legendary.�

�Just.�

Ali snorts, but he nods at Katherine. �She�s not wrong. Even a Legendary�s power is limited.�

�Do we even know what the limits might be?� Mikito asks.

�Her Skill details are hidden. But others?� Ali shakes his head. �If we took John�s Class to the max, he�d have three choices from his Skill Tree. Each of which would be a penultimate for the Grand Master Paladin. Following the theme, they�d be able to boost any of the Paladins they command or even raise an individual to the Class or a tier, temporarily or permanently; he�d be able to use the Weight of Duty to shatter a planet; and the Skill the Might of Justice allows him to borrow any Skill, any System-recorded memory, any piece of currently owned equipment from those he served.�

�Served?�

Ali nods and I pause. I recall that the Empress had a couple of Heroic-level pieces of equipment. Maybe even some Legendary ones.

�Actual borrow, as in teleportation or�?�

Ali shrugs. �Uncertain. I could verify at a Shop but��

�It doesn�t mater,� Mikito butts in. �You�re saying that a Legendary Skill can influence things on a planet or across an Empire, but with some degree of restrictions.�

There are nods, and I frown, remembering what happened at Prax. The Lady of Shadows had taken steps to hide the movement of the fleet coming for us, making it so that we never knew it was arriving until it was too late. Hiding things at that level was powerful, but if you considered that she probably had to look at influencing multiple individuals at a time, instead of altering actual reality, it wasn�t impossible. Or she might have just adjusted information flow for everything coming in and out of the space station.

�So we�re looking at a limited number of individuals she can affect,� I say.

Katherine nods. �And we know for certain that her Skills have been in use in a variety of other locations, including the current trade war between the Stadin and Maties Groups.�

Req�m adds, �Ares has also requested her aid in dealing with a Mana outbreak along the Restricted Zone nearby the Fraskee Borders. There�s a flood of Behemoth Crawlers and a living planet that has pushed outward, carrying with it a flood of Mana.�

�Fraskee?�

�Nautical creatures. Sort of like your mermaids, but not exactly,� Ali supplies.

�Why would they care?� Mikito asks.

�Because one of the lies the Council tells is that the growth of the Forbidden and Restricted Zones are regular and controlled. Not contained, but controlled,� Reqm says, his lips twisting in a snarl, his tiny tusks glowing with his displeasure. �They lie to us about the deaths that occur, the planets that are destroyed. And when they fail, they make sure no one knows.�

�If no one knows, how do you?� Mikito says.

�Because the Galactic System is old, and no secret is truly secret,� Reqm says.

I could beg to differ, but I keep my mouth shut. I don�t know him, no matter how much Katherine trusts him.

�And such secrets are whispered among those of us in power,� Reqm says. �It is only those without power who know not the lies they are told. Though many think they do.�

I frown. �Yet you�ve got a whole planet experiencing things right now. What happens to them? Are they killed?�

�Or moved to another location. Their minds wiped, their memories altered, their histories changed,� Reqm says. �If they fail. If they succeed in containing it, the incident is covered up, lies are woven such that no one knows better. Information is edited for many years, using individual Spies and Propagandists. The very nature of the attack is made a lie. Until the truth is no longer understandable.�

�They do this so that more people stay. Wait. Holding still in their doomed planets because they think they�re safe. Or at least, as safe as living in a Restricted Zone can be.� I think over what I know of Restricted and Forbidden Zones and come to the final conclusion. �They need people to stay, don�t they? Because without sapients, the borders would grow faster. Without individuals serving the Adventurers who move in to gain what resources they can, monsters won�t be killed. Mana won�t be churned.�

�Yes.�

Vicious but effective. It�s not something I would do, not something I can even condone doing. But it�s effective and it keeps things stable, which I am realizing, for most governments, is more important than what is good or right or moral. Practicality over morality.

Mikito drags the conversation back on topic, to the reason we�re here, as she clears her throat. �We�re safe from being spotted, at least we hope so. Unless she turns her attention on us, because we�re a lot smaller than a planet��

�Though you have your planet and my merchant empire backing you up.�

Mikito continues, ignoring the interruption. �But we still shouldn�t take too long. What can we do to help you, Katherine? You and Earth.�

Katherine pauses, visibly recalling what she needs to say, then launches into what must be a rehearsed speech.

***

We leave the art gallery an hour later, with a lot less enthusiasm than we arrived. It�s no real surprise, not with the information related to us. We�re weighed down by the knowledge we�ve gained and what we must do. Being the organized woman she is, Katherine had much of the information ready to go in an information pack, so what we spoke about were the high-level aspects. The rest we�ll read later.

As suspected, Katherine has been building alliances over the last four plus years she has been in Irvina. Even so, it has been difficult for the lady to build any true alliances due to concerns about longevity. While groups like the Erethrans or the Truinnar might want a Dungeon World under their control, making it happen is much more difficult than just wishing.

Like Earth when I returned years ago, many groups have formed their own enclaves, their areas of control. And unlike Earth, many such places in established Dungeon Worlds have significant resources poured into them. Even the lowest Level Dungeon World would still require a couple of Master Classes to conquer a lightly defended settlement. In higher Leveled, more established Dungeon Worlds, you�d require a full armed assault to have a hope of winning.

On top of that, you�ve got internal politics�who gets control of the Dungeon World? Which faction is in charge? What kinds of benefits would each faction gain? After all, if they won�t get any benefits from those in charge, would it not be better to make a deal with those on the Dungeon Worlds already and get something from them for opposing the Dungeon World sole-government?

As I said, it�s complicated. Even when Katherine made headway, managing to get a few allies on our side�various governments, races, merchant groups and guilds�the direct opposition by the Council has driven many of them away. Suddenly, the benefits no longer outweigh the cost.

When we suggested my plan of physically dissuading voting groups, Katherine was quite adamant that it�s a horrible idea. Reqm threw his weight behind her, pointing out that any action we take on the vote will reflect badly on Earth.

The only good news Katherine had to offer is that to make a major change in the Galactic Constitution requires a significant Mana flow. It�s the equivalent of 80% of the Mana generated by the System-planets in a month, making it a big ask.

Because of the cost involved, Katherine�s actually found a number of people who are willing to vote against or abstain entirely. In some cases, only for a single vote. But a single vote of abstinence from each party is what we need now. Which is where the list and information she gave us comes into play.

As for future votes, we�ll have to get past this one before worrying about it.

In truth, the Galactic Council have tried to take away Earth�s seat before�by contesting its legitimacy in courts, its standing in the Council as a Dungeon World, and even the legitimacy of the actual vote. In the end, all of that failed, leaving the Galactic Council with this final maneuver�striking off all rights of Dungeon Worlds to hold a seat on the Council and marking them as contested territories for now and forevermore.

The stakes have never been higher, and the problem is more insurmountable than ever, it seems. Thankfully, we�ve got a few options. And once we return to our residence and emplace our defenses, we go over those options, combining the knowledge Katherine has provided us with our own research.

�This is a very long list,� Harry says. The reporter managed to make his way back halfway through the next day, adding his own findings to what we were given.

We�ve been mostly reading, taking in details of political games that we have no idea about. Even as fast as we consume information, we can only take in an overview, since there are so many players involved.

Still, the information we garner is enough for us to do our job and, when things go south, hopefully not mess it up too much by improvising.

�Katherine�s highlighted one hundred sixteen different groups that might be open to convincing,� I say in confirmation. �We�ve got less than a month to convince as many of them as we can. Maybe as little as two weeks, if Katherine can�t stall the vote further.�

�One hundred eight,� Ali corrects, flicking over the new list. �I just finished the info dump Harry brought back. If he�s right, those eight are no-gos.�

I grunt and accept the correction. One hundred sixteen or one hundred eight, it�s too many for me to tackle anyway.

�Either way, too many. We have to split this up if we have any hope of doing any good,� Mikito says.

�Just like before, triage.�

I poke the information, sorting it out by number of seats. At the same time, the spreadsheet keeps the details of what kind of needs they have pre-sorted. At least, what they�ve told Katherine what they need. Reading over the list, I can�t help but shake my head.

Title: Master Duelist (Beat a Heroic Class in a formal duel)

Title: Galactic Gourmet (Consume 2,500 different kinds of monster meat within a year)

Class: Breaker of Chains (Advanced Prestige. Must break a Master Class Binding Skill)

Class: Paen of Pain (Advanced Prestige. Receive over 1,000,000 points of damage)

Class: Inheritor of Secrets (Master Class. Be given a dozen Tier I secrets)

�

�What happened to sex, power, and money?� I mutter. �Isn�t that what most people want?�

�You want the sex ones?� Ali says, raising an eyebrow. His fingers flick and my jaw drops as he sorts the information.

�Not doing that. Or that. Maybe that�� My gaze moves down the list, making Mikito pause and look at me.

�There are some of those you�d do?� she says, sounding surprised.

�It�s just sex.� I pause. �Well, that one was just sex. If I have to, I�ll put a bag over their head.� As the group stares at me, I face their incredulous gazes and open my hands wide. �It�s my fault, people. Taking one�okay, six�for the team isn�t that bad.

�Though I might need a bath or two.� I scratch my chin and add, �Also, have you noticed how, if you�ve not had sex for a bit, it�s fine. You can deal with it. But once you get used to being� ummm� regular, then the next few months or so is rather difficult?�

Mikito blushes slightly, muttering curses under her breath at me. I grin at her, though I must admit, I�m blathering on a little to cover up my own embarrassment. Sometimes, the only way through it is to head in deep.

Harry snorts, the Brit�who, come to think of it, I know indulges with his fans and other races regularly�ignoring my segue. �Perhaps we should consider selling your body last. Many of the more carnal desires are more tentative, as Katherine has noted. People in the positions of power like that often have access to such��

�Conveniences?� I offer.

�Dalliances?� Ali says.

�Fetishes?� Mikito supplies.

�Opportunities,� Harry says with finality. �It�s more a case of finding the right timing for them.�

�So what you�re saying is that they might not be willing to offer their vote for boy-o�s sweet, sweet body,� Ali says.

�Exactly. Whereas providing access to Titles and Classes�� Harry shrugs. �Those can be more difficult. Especially these��

Class: Jesuit Priest

Class: Hair Metal Drummer

Class: Babalawo

Class: Micro-Expression Interrogator

Title: Neither Rain nor Shine

Title: Virtual Killer

Title: Triad Leader

�

�Restricted Classes and Titles,� I say, sighing. �I guess that�s a form of power, isn�t it?�

�Especially when it�s unexpected,� Ali says. �The System might not like to balance each Class against another, but with the variety out there, there�s always a balance to be found against another. Or an exploit.�

I nod. While most types of Skills come down to the System-equivalent of punching someone in the head until they fall, when it comes to non-Combat Classes, there�s a lot more variety. And sometimes, certain Classes and Skills just slip under the radar of other Skills.

Being the new kids on the block, we�ve got a bunch of new Classes waiting for exploits. Add in interesting Titles that might provide either prestige or stackable bonuses, and I can see these Titles being desired. Still, there�s no way to know for sure without actually gaining a Class or Title and testing it to see if they can be exploited. I�m sure the vast majority of them won�t be anything particularly new or interesting, but as any good fighter knows�it only takes one lucky shot to end a fight.

Except that�s not really true with the System. Health Points give us an unnatural level of resilience, such that even a cheap shot or one that lands perfectly cleanly won�t necessarily take out someone with high health. The tyranny of Levels can keep those below chained to the bottom.

Or it would, if not for the fact that Mana and health regeneration is finite. That�s where the System�s ability to provide information is a leveler. Knowing how much you need to hammer someone means that, if necessary, you can work out what you need to do to end them. And in a few cases, the best revenge hasn�t even been direct attacks but the wide release of an individual�s build. For those at the highest Levels, most have gotten where they are by stepping on a few necks along the way.

A borrowed knife slits a throat just as cleanly.

�I�m assuming Credits aren�t high on the list because we don�t have enough?� I say.

One of the interesting aspects of Katherine�s list is the focus on the individual rather than the government. She�s got that covered. What she wants us to exploit are the people who do the actual voting�the man on the ground, if you will.

�Actually, it�s mostly because the people on the list are paid an extremely high salary to ensure they aren�t bribable.� Harry says. �At least with Credits, that is.�

I chuckle a bit. It�s the Singapore method of public service. If you pay your government servants the same as any CEO, not only do you get good government servants, but the need for bribery decreases. Not that the high salaries get rid of bribery entirely�as we�re going to exploit�but it does reduce it.

�Well, at least there aren�t any white elephants,� I say.

�Elephants?� Harry asks.

�Just something I read about. How some gifts are white elephants that stroke the ego more than anything else,� I say.

�Oh, like these?� Ali says.

A moment later, I�m reading a rather long list of materials, none of which I�ve heard about and most of which I have trouble even pronouncing.

�Gah!� I throw up my hands. �What would you need the marrow of a twelve-headed hydra for?�

�Alchemical compound. Useful for a variety of regenerative effects,� Ali replies.

�So, a health potion?�

�Affliction removal. Or regeneration from old age in particular.�

�Right.�

When he mentions the one thing the System will not remove, even if it slows it, I eye the materials with renewed interest. Once I poke at the details, what seems like a bewildering array of gifts become a series of weird, specific Master or Heroic crafted items and a bunch of materials for longevity potions.

�Great. So how are we doing this?� I prod the sheet. As fascinating as all this might be, it doesn�t solve the problem of how we�re dividing the work.

�I can do the gifts,� Harry says. �Between my contacts and whatever Dornalor might dig up, I might be able to locate some of these things.�

Unspoken is the added caveat of locate and acquire. One of the issues with much of the material is that even when their location is known, they aren�t being sold. Dornalor might not be here, but his contacts could be useful�not to forget any criminal contacts Harry might have made on Prax.

�Classes and Titles for us,� Mikito says, pointing between her and me. �We can teach or train them. Some might be more difficult. And there are the obvious ones John has to do.�

�Like the Heroic requirement kind.� I nod. Annoying, but those who require specific kinds of Skills can be dealt with. So long as they�re willing to subject themselves to the abuse, which requires trust. Which is often the sticking point.

�You also have one other thing to do�� warns Mikito.

I sigh. Truth. For all this, we still need to figure out what to do about the inner Council. And�

�The Duchess.�

I make a face again as the pair of humans voice their agreement. If there�s one person who can aid us in all this, it�d be her. The question is, of course, what she wants.

Time to find out what�s taking her so long to contact me.

Chapter 11

Of course, like most of my existence these last few months, it isn�t as easy as asking Roxley what the hell is going on. He didn�t even deign to meet with me, instead sending back a note that the Duchess will see me when she�s ready to do so.

That issue resolved, the team splits up to begin the process of getting votes. Luckily, the vast majority of the time, we have easy methods of contacting our targets, supplied to us by Katherine.

One of the things about working in such a big, political city is that those in the know all set up multiple methods of communication. Not just the official channels and the unofficial official channels, but unofficial secret channels and secret secret channels of communication. All of it is broken out into multiple levels, given out to various acquaintances and allies and even enemies as needed, depending on what you think is required.

After all, you might not want the government to know what you�re saying. Or you might not want to officially be speaking to certain people, even if unofficially, your government agrees with your action. And so on, so forth.

What we were given are the semi-public secret channels, with the requisite notations on how to let them know their information isn�t burned, just passed along properly. Which is a whole different level of secrecy.

�And why does Katherine have all this?� I mutter, staring at the Galactic equivalent of a burner phone. �Isn�t there a spy head or something?�

�Contingency planning of course. Also, pretty sure Earth�s spy head is dead,� Ali sends back.

�How�d you know that?� I reply.

I let my gaze roam over the park we�re waiting in, mentally grumbling about the idiocy of having a secret meeting in public. But since this is the initial contact, they didn�t want to be in a hidden place, so here we are.

This park isn�t that big, just over a few hundred meters, but with multiple dips and rises so that direct lines of sight are cut off. This is aided by the local fauna, many of which grow to twice or thrice the height of the sapients ambling along. Other than the occasional giant, of course�a pair of which ducked behind a convenient wall of shrubbery and masonry to canoodle.

�Do they really think they�re hidden?� I send to Ali, watching the trembling foliage.

�Sometimes, it�s more the illusion of privacy than the reality, boy-o.�

�Fine. But the spy master?�

I keep scanning while we wait, searching for our contact. I hope he isn�t too late. I�ve booked another meeting in another public location�a bullet train transit station�in an hour. And then another after that. And the burner phone is for the next set of calls I need to make, while I�m scrambling from one location to the next.

Even peering around, I see nothing. There are flying creatures, insects, winged angels, half-beast or monster equivalents, even a few elemental-bodied fellows. And on the ground, you get the usual plethora of humanoids walking, rolling, and jumping along. But not my next meet.

�Mikito actually told me about it. According to her, he was targeted during the attack,� Ali explains. When I send back a wordless grunt, he shrugs. �We�ve been digging a little into the actual attack. She knew who he was before because she�d been in contact with Katherine and Lana. And we reviewed the attack, just in case.�

�Just in case what?�

�They use the same teams.�

Before I can ask for details, a voice speaks up behind me. I don�t start, even if I want to. Because whoever it is has taken the seat on the opposite side of the park bench, facing away from me on the circular bench-cum-table-cum-elevated rise, without me knowing.

�You�re not human.�

�No. But I can get you the individual.�

�Really? Because we�ve yet to get one to agree to leave Earth,� the creature says.

I glance over, spotting the creature as it inhales. It�s a short, stubby alien whose grey skin and flat features are dominated by the trio of large nostrils situated around its body. Small flaps open and close, allowing the creature to block off potential smells and attacks, while even more fleshy flaps and strings of flesh deeper within strain out other gaseous particles.

�I can. My word on it,� I say. �But you know what we want in return.�

�Expensive.�

�But for your Clan, this would be quite the win, would it not? After all, bringing a new scent-based Class to the Kinanti��

�We�ll need a serf contract for seven years. System-registered.�

�No,� I flat-out refuse. �Work contract for five years. System-registered, based off you fulfilling your bargain. In turn, we�ll provide a System-registered proof of Class.�

�Ten years.�

�Agreed.�

�Transport costs?� the Kinanti asks, its voice low and husky.

I note it snuffling more, as if trying to ascertain my identity via smell. Good luck with that. I have a spell and an enchantment both killing my scent for just this reason.

�We can handle it,� I say. �But you�ll pay going rates for their work. And take care of their accommodations and safety. Along with their family.�

�Of course. Standard contract for Artisans. But this is an Advanced, yes?�

�Yes. By the time the vote is completed, you�ll get your Advanced Class Perfumer.�

The creature lets out a trill, a snort, then stands. �Don�t contact me again until the documents are ready.�

I don�t look at him as he stalks off, but I do borrow Ali�s field of vision to note his bouncing step. It�s only when he�s gone, when I�ve finished reading the threads from Society�s Web and the changes in his demeanor, that I speak.

�What do you think?�

�He�ll do it. Now, come on. Next!�

I groan but stand, heading out. We�ll have to contact Lana to get this done, but thankfully, we know a Basic Classer who will jump at the chance. All we have to do is boost him through his Levels, which means VIP access to our dungeons and a Leveling team.

A small price to pay for an abstentation.

Now, if only the rest of our deals are this easy.

***

Underground. This is the galactic equivalent of a sewer line, but it�s a lot cleaner and less smelly since everything is actually contained within sealed effluent lines. The maintenance room we stand in is in a confluence of such maintenance shafts, giving us more room to work within. Even if it is big, the presence of a half dozen bodyguards crowds out the room. Especially when a pair of them are sapient trolls.

�Explain again this Skill of yours,� the older Movana standing before me mutters.

He�s not the target, of course. It�s the young Movana girl behind him, all of twenty-three. She�s already two-thirds of the way through her Basic Class thanks to her banked experience and being dragged through dungeons. But that won�t get her a good Class, especially since she lacks any good Titles.

Thus, this meeting.

�I can layer the Skill multiple times, depending on wording and intent,� I say. I know this to be true, in a way that even knowledge and use of the Skill wouldn�t have offered without significantly more experimenting, thanks to my new Class. �But it�ll do damage.�

�How much?�

I grunt, running the math in my head and inform him.

He winces and shakes his head. �Very high.�

�Yes. But that also means it�ll increase her chance of getting the Prestige Class, right? The harder it is to break, the more damage she takes, the better the Class.�

�Expensive to get them the right enchantments,� her overseer says, crossing his arms. �And you still haven�t mentioned the name of the Skill. We need to ascertain it doesn�t overlap with others.�

�It won�t.�

�How do you know?�

I point over the girl�s head while she ducks her head and pouts. There�s a sullenness to her actions, to the way she stands that makes my heart ache. I understand her standing, her importance to the family is guiding the actions here. Favors for favors. She has no choice in this, in the oaths and the bindings and, yes, the pain required to break those bindings.

But as much as I want to help her, I know I can�t. Because I can�t fix every problem I come across, and because she has the tools to fix it herself. All she has to do is walk away. From a life of comfort and security.

This isn�t my fight. And my help would probably be less than desired.

�Conditions. I can see them. Nothing special,� I say. �And no conflicts. You barely have a half dozen running on her right now, and only one other Master Class.�

�I broke the rest,� she snaps, crossing her arms. �And I can break yours. I�ve done worst. It�s just damage.� Her voice drips with derision.

I make note to perhaps find something particularly inventive as my binding. �Now, about our payment��

The overseer smiles, turning to me as I brightly begin the negotiations.

***

�Trap?�

�Trap,� Ali confirms.

I almost sigh and give away the game as we follow the man into the courtyard. The building is reinforced, the sky a false projection�even if it does go up at least five stories. The entire courtyard in a building thing is very Irvina, what with the need for space and yet the illusion of control. When one has money, alterations to the internal portions of a building are simple enough. And our current guest has money. The courtyard is another example of them showing it off.

It also creates a good killing ground, but we don�t talk about such things.

�I�m surprised you contacted us. Our interactions with Ambassador Ward and Earth have been less than pleasant before,� the speaker says, furry hands crossed behind his back. The Zarrie�gnoll-like creatures�smiles widely. �In fact, there are a number of blood promises bound around some of your people�s heroes.�

�Representatives,� I say. �And not my people. The humans.�

�Of course, of course,� the Zarrie says, bobbing his head. �I�m grateful you were willing to meet us here. Few would be so trusting.�

�It�s hard to be, when betrayal seems to be a common coin in the realm,� I say. �But I�ve always felt it better to give trust when you can.�

�Oh, for certain. It�s a very honorable viewpoint,� the speaker says. He turns around now, having put us in the middle of the courtyard.

In my minimap, Ali floods the information screen with dots. Lots of dots, many of them Advanced Classers. I don�t see many Master Classers, though I�m not surprised. Not only are Master Classers rarer, they�re also expensive to hire and not something you expect to throw together in a few hours.

�I�ve always felt that. And when someone does betray you, you just have to make sure they don�t do it again.� I wonder if the warning will help, but I doubt it.

�There is no true betrayal though, when one is enemies already,� the speaker replies, smiling wide. �Don�t you think so, Redeemer?�

I keep smiling even as he uses my Title. �I have no idea what you�re speaking of.�

�That enchantment you�re using is very good. We can�t pierce it, not at all. But there is no one else we can think of who would dare contact us. Not so blatantly, not so soon. And with such an obvious companion.� He nods to where Ali hangs over my shoulder.

Ali�s shifted his form again, looking like a floating tree trunk, and is supposed to be invisible since he�s only partially dimensionally shifted in.

I raise an eyebrow, still trying to play it cool. But I sense the Mana fluctuations above me as the ambushers buff themselves and charge up their attacks. �Again, no idea what you�re talking about.�

Ali flies upward and to the side, tiny hands shifting as he gets ready to layer Skills and his ability to protect me. A quick flash of information over our communication channel indicates that he�s being tracked by a couple of our ambushers, putting to rest the question of the viability of his invisibility. They definitely can track him.

�Now, I came here with an offer. You wanted some Titles that weren�t available otherwise, all human-centric. I know how to get them for you.� I open my hands sideways, smiling. �But it�ll cost you.�

�Yes. A vote�� The Zarrie shakes his head. �We are not interested. What was taken, we will have back. And the blood debt will be repaid.�

His final words are the signal and his friends open fire. I throw myself forward�not at him, but sideways past him, then change directions again, putting myself behind the speaker�s back. The movement isn�t fast enough to dodge all the shots of course, but Soul Shield provides enough protection when combined with Ali�s twisting of their attacks.

Even as I move, I trigger Judgment of All. One good thing about working for the Erethrans is they�ve been blocking purchases of their Class Skills since forever. And while the Zarrie�s main government probably has details, this is but a branch of a branch. Their budget has nothing on what the Erethrans have paid to keep Skills like Judgment for All hidden.

And while they might be able to buy my Status Sheet, if they even bothered, it wouldn�t necessarily tell them what the Skill does. Not until I use it. Like now.

Light flares as Ali and I spin around in opposite circles. We use my Skill, both of us, pouring damage onto our attackers. With Penetration�s ability in play, they don�t stand a chance.

I watch damage pile on, the support Classers falling first. One of them has a retributive Aura Skill, reflecting a portion of their attacks onto me. Another attacker drops a cloying plasma attack that refuses to stop burning. A series of beacon darts dig into my body and draw fire from other attacks while overlapping fields of debuffs slow me down and drain Mana.

There�s more, a lot more.

The very air around me burns. The poor Speaker�s ability to avoid the attacks�similar to Harry�s�is subverted by the sheer volume of fire. He dies as collateral damage, rather than my Skill, which he manages to avoid triggering.

My dodging works at shedding some of the damage, but my attackers shift to area effect attacks that combine with the defenses implanted in the building. Then things get a lot more difficult to avoid. I leave my sword uncalled, instead smashing apart the emplaced weaponry with spells and well-placed body slams, my Soul Shield replenished continuously by Ali.

A short and hectic minute later, as Judgment of All finishes its job, the Spirit is buzzing through open windows, looting bodies and dumping them in my Altered Space. I do the same with the Speaker�s body, both of us more than cognizant that we have to be gone within minutes.

�Up here. Teleport circle. It�s locked to the users here but��

�Got it.� I bounce upward, using my hoverboots to slide through the balcony and into the room. A hand on the console and I�m accessing the System-controlled lock-outs.

System Edit flashes, and I feel another tiny tick of experience slide into the Administrator Class as I adjust the settings. I slip in a small program that�ll delete my access, the logs, and itself after a set amount of time after I finish editing access levels, then we get on the platform.

The encompassing Dimension Lock disappears as I stand on the teleport circle and grin. Then we�re gone, leaving behind nothing but a burnt and shattered building.

Moments later, the gravity bomb I left in the center of the building implodes, taking the building and what evidence there might be with it.

***

I push against the bottom of the pool, shooting out of the water and breaking into fresh air. My breathing is slightly ragged, more than it should be considering how little I truly need oxygen these days, but following the selkie through the water has been quite the workout. I swim until we reach the small island in the middle of the giant water playground�large enough to be a lake�they consider a swimming pool and rest against the warm sand.

The selkie shivers and twists, bones popping and cracking as it transforms before it climbs onto the sandy beach. It turns around, the smooth, slightly dimpled nature of its lower body a weird sight even as the transformation completes, hiding its fur� somewhere.

�Satisfied?� I say.

The selkie tilts its head from side to side, the whiskers of its seal body one of the features not having disappeared. They twitch in the breeze as it spies on its own people, before it turns back to me. �Yes.�

�Good. So do we have a deal?� I say.

�No.�

I frown, but the selkie doesn�t elaborate, forcing me to ask why.

�Details,� it says.

�Well, yes. I guess.� I bite my lip, remembering what I�ve been warned about. �Details are required. But we can work that out in someplace drier, no?�

�Sample.�

�You want a sample? A demonstration?� I consider. �That can be arranged.�

�Good.� Then the selkie walks away, leaving me slack-jawed.

�What the hell?�

�They don�t like talking much to dry-landers,� Ali supplies. �By the way, make sure that sample is sufficiently sized.�

�Sufficient for what?�

�Both of you to consume.�

�Both of us!?!� I frown and sense Ali�s amusement. �Why?�

�Don�t you guys have a food culture too? It�s the same thing. You can�t trust people you don�t eat beside. It�s why Rob hasn�t managed to make a deal.�

�But Katherine�s here. As was her trade representative.�

�Politics. They only work with those with sufficient influence. And that�s Rob. Or, well, you.�

I frown, triggering my Flight spell as I head back to dry land now that I�m certain the Selkie won�t speak further.

�Don�t send that disapproval. You wouldn�t even count if you hadn�t gotten your Heroic Class. It�s why I had you alter that for him.�

I shake my head, shedding water as I fly and getting a few shouted imprecations from those below my flight path. I ignore them as I land at the entrance, already conjuring a Cleansing spell.

There�s more work to do and even more people to meet. Thus far, we�ve been tackling the easy jobs. It�s just going to get harder as we go down the list.

I expect I�ll trigger Extra Hands after today. I�d have done it today, but I wanted an idea of the kind of thing we were going to be dealing with, the kind of people and problems. I won�t send them�myself�into this blind.

But as I�m finding out, the more people we contact, the more we meet, the higher the chance there is that we�ll be located. The fight with the Zarrie was bad enough, but at least they�re assholes who have a long, long list of enemies. Eventually though, we�ll be found out.

Which is another reason to consider how to contact the damn Galactic Council before things go to hell in a handcart.

Chapter 12

�Are you sure this is a good idea?� Ali says.

He hovers over my outstretched hand, making me pause as I reach for the Shop orb. We�re not in Irvina anymore, having made the trip in the early hours of the morning to a sleepy holiday town to use their Shop orb. The population is high enough they�ve got multiple such orbs in play, each linked to the main settlement orb but rarely used. Especially at this time of the night.

�No. But we don�t seem to be getting anywhere, do we?� I say.

Ali gives me a half-hearted shrug, the pair of us alone in the sealed-off room that offers the orb and its users privacy.

We�ve been running around for the last week and a half, doing the best we can to get votes against or abstentations. At first, it was easy. Or it seemed that way at least.

But soon enough, the low-hanging fruit of votes are gone, leaving us to deal with people who want things that are harder to source, harder to convince we can fulfill when no one else can.

I�ve been beaten black and blue three times, and still the System has yet to register the Heroic �duel win.� The kid who does it to me packs one heck of a wallop, since they�ve geared his entire build to single-hit knockouts, and still, the System doesn�t consider it a win. We�ve tried multiple ways now�from direct fights to a registered dueling ring�and nothing. I keep holding back too much, such that the poor fellow can�t convince the System he�s winning properly.

We�ve run into other problems, like the Babalawo Class, which requires us to not only find living practitioners of Santeira on Earth, but also to convince them to transfer a number of their prayers, loa, and their blessings to an individual they�ve never met. Lana and Rob are finding that impossible. As far as the practitioners are concerned, what we�re asking them to do is the worst kind of cultural appropriation. I don�t blame them, but it doesn�t help our case.

The Virtual Killer title should be simple to acquire, but there�s a piece missing no matter how many games of Doom, COD, and tower defense battles the Title Hunter plays. I�ve promised to dig into it further, and Rob�s looking into the backgrounds of everyone on Earth with the Title, but no luck thus far. I might have to dig into it myself, with my Skill. But we�re beginning to wonder if it�s a pre-System-only Title.

There are a bunch of Titles like that, things that are only available for people who weren�t in the System when they started it.

There�s also the negotiation for an exclusive on coffee production from Brazil that the Fifteen Spire Guild is demanding. Specifically, a certain enhanced bean and the individuals producing it. We have to play go-between, even arranging for a strike team from Erethra to drop in to destroy a bunch of dungeons to even make the producers consider the offer. If we get the coffee for the Guild, they�ll use their influence to get us a couple of votes.

And there�s more. So much more. Assassination requests that we either have to undertake ourselves or contract out. Of course, there are no guarantees in those cases, just nicely worded assurances that don�t read as anything more than platitudes since both sides don�t want to say what they want outright, leaving themselves a certain level of deniability.

I�ll admit, in a few cases where the attacks are close enough to make it worthwhile and the individuals morally bankrupt enough that it doesn�t impact my twisted morality, I�ve agreed to it. And then promptly arranged for one of my Extra Hands to deal with it.

Amazing what a doppelganger with no care about his life is able to do. That�s the problem when you�re playing security�if the other person really doesn�t care about surviving, their options open up vastly.

Of course, I�m also very careful about how often I send my Extra Hands on assassinations. Too many sudden deaths would be another sign we�re around. So the targets are people who are obvious, who make sense. And I do my best to ensure, when I can, that the deaths aren�t traceable to me.

It doesn�t always work, but that�s fine.

Artifact retrievals and dungeon clearings, both of which would take more time than we can afford. We make promises, guarantees of retrievals and clearing backed by the System, but there�s reluctance. From Earth, to commit to travel�or Portal cost�and from those who might benefit. If Mikito and I could leave Irvina entirely, it�d be easy. But we neither have the ability to run off and return without alerting others nor the time to clear or do retrievals.

We�re stymied by the time frame, by the needs of our targets. And even if we do manage to make the current vote go our way, it doesn�t solve the other issue. It doesn�t deal with the Council.

At some point, I need to talk to them, to ascertain what they want. After numerous attempts at cudgeling my brain for a way, I�ve come up with this idea. It�s borne from my constant testing of the System, the gentle prod of my System Edit Skill.

�All right, but if the Mana floods�� Ali says warningly.

�You told me so.� I punctuate my sentence by placing my hand on the Shop orb.

As it prompts me to see if I want to teleport to my usual Shop, I delve right into the information flow with my System Edit Skill, bypassing the main interface to access the admin section.

The Shop itself is both one of the most complicated pieces of programming in the System and incredibly simple. At its base, the Shop is just a listing of information, each piece of information drawing from a database. But considering the sheer volume of information required, there are numerous subroutines and programs set up to reduce the load whenever an individual accesses the Shop.

Among some of the most prominent are the personalization routines that are hooked directly into an individual�s Status. In this way, certain options are automatically suppressed while others are brought forward. While it looks�and in some ways, acts�like a method of helping users optimize their development, it also benefits the System.

As the most basic example, there�s no need for humans to buy �oxygen breathing� Skills, genetic alterations, or enchantments. It�s pretty much guaranteed humanity can breathe oxygen. Same with regrowth options for limbs�unless you�ve recently lost one. At which point, the System would likely move those options up on the display.

There are numerous little formulas and subroutines running, each of them balancing out one another and the use of the System just so that the Shop itself can be more efficiently managed. Add the fact that some truly complex programs are linked to the Shop�teleportation, Credit-Mana cost-benefit analysis, and the time distortion windows, among others�and you get a System that should be monitored pretty closely.

And when there�s a System that�s monitored closely, there�s development notes and bug reports.

As I swim through the data fields of Mana�because that�s what the System codes in, Mana�I grasp at tiny bits of information, staring at runic configurations that alter in meaning as I stare at them before discarding the programs for more. I feel myself burning up as I struggle to cope with the flood of information, the processing of raw Mana until I locate what I need.

Then I go deeper.

Because I don�t want the specific directory for this Shop location, but the generic administrative notes and bug reports for the entire Shop subroutine. Once I get there, I take the time to verify that administrative notes are logged by individual but not location and grin.

Gotcha.

As I get ready to do what I need to next, I feel my body jar, bones creaking and my neck whiplashing around. My hand, clutching the Shop orb, breaks free and I stagger to the side. Purely by instinct, my sword appears in my hand and swings. It bites into skin and flesh, and a portion of my attacker flops away.

�Aaaaargh! You goddamn Gremlin-feces-loving son-of-the-abyss!� Ali shouts, dodging backward even as he reforms his leg.

�What the hell!�

�Teaches me to save your ass!� Ali snarls, his wound sealed, the stub of his leg reforming. As a creature of thought and energy more than actual mass, damage to Ali is more conceptual than biological.

�What do you� mean.�

I take into account my body and health. I feel wretched�much more than getting body-slammed by the rapidly shrinking Spirit would entail. As the pain finally makes itself known, I find myself sagging to my knees as every single nerve, muscle, and cell within my body screams.

Mana Sense is tingling, overloaded by the sheer amount of System Mana my body contains now. I�m overclocked on Mana itself and my body is doing its best to purge itself of the excess amount. For a moment, I try to trigger a spell, a simple Light spell to help bleed off the excess Mana.

I only do it for a second before curling up on the floor, choking off screams as betrayed nerves inform me that attempting to cast or utilize Skills at this moment is the worst idea I could have.

Long minutes, maybe hours, pass as my body washes the System Mana from my body. When I finally stagger back to my feet, I find Ali hovering beside me, biting his lip in anxiousness.

�Well, that was new,� Ali says sardonically, the trace of concern disappearing under his usual nonchalant expression.

I can only offer him a half-smile before I push my way to the exit. As much as I want to finish what I started, we need to leave before someone finds us hogging the Shop sphere.

It�s only pure luck and some planning that has allowed us to get this far.

***

Waves lap at my feet as I sit beside the water, small carnivorous fish and cephalopods attempting to rip through my reinforced skin. They fail, their Levels too low to breach my innate defenses. I ignore them, for they�re too low-Leveled to bother killing either.

Not when I have bigger�metaphorical�fish to fry. In my mind�s eye, deep within, I exist in a painless void that lets me tap into the only Skill I have available right now�System Edit. And using that Skill, I review my body, the data stream of my Status Screen and log files to find out what happened.

Beside me, spinning in slow circles, Ali watches the world pass by. He�s in a diamond-shaped Spirit form, invisible to most eyes and keeping track of potential dangers while I work.

Long minutes pass before I finally surface, more knowledgeable than ever of my own Skills and the System. If no wiser.

�So?�

I look around and wonder if it�s smart to discuss it here. But there�s no one watching, and once again, our best defense is anonymity. Pushing aside the never-ending paranoia that living in the System engenders, I answer my friend. �In summary�I was overloaded with Mana.�

�No shit, Gremlin-breath. What I want to know is why now?�

�That�s more interesting. I�ve always been flooded with System Mana when I access the information. The first time I got burnt was when I got the Class, but we just thought it was a case of the Class change. It�s not. It�s a� feature, not a bug of the Class.�

�Why?�

�The System itself is coded in Mana. System Mana, to be specific. So when I access it, I�m actually drawing in System Mana. The more I do, the more I drain. However, as a Heroic Class, I also churn through the Mana much faster, so it�s never been a major thing. But the Shop has a lot more that I can deal with, and��

�You got burnt.�

�Exactly.� I fall silent for a bit, rubbing my chin. �I wonder if people do stumble onto this Class earlier. But the moment they try to access the System in any way, they burn out. I mean, I�m tougher than your usual Heroic Class in many ways. Certainly more than any Artisan Heroic. The sheer amount of Mana being sent when accessing even a small program would likely kill a Basic Classer.�

�So you think that�s why you don�t hear of the Class, because they die too fast?� Ali sends back.

�That, and the Council probably covers it up. But if a Heroic Class can barely handle poking at the basic information structures��

�The Shop isn�t that basic.�

I ignore the mental interruption. ��of the System, even accessing low level information would probably kill a Basic Class. Heck, it�d probably damage an Advanced pretty fast, and a Master Class might only be able to handle it in very controlled doses.�

�But why would the Council set it up in such a way? It seems like a bad idea for your Junior Administrators to form from such a small pool.�

I chew on my lip a little while I think over Ali�s question before I offer the only answer that makes sense to me. �Maybe they didn�t choose to do so.� I turn over the idea in my mind further. �What if the current Council is just, I don�t know, interlopers? Or the third or fourth iteration of the programmers? And they�re stuck with whatever the idiots who first created it did. The gods know, I�ve had to clean up messy programming before.�

�You know, not everyone is as sloppy at finishing their work as you, boy-o.�

�Maybe they didn�t have a choice. The Shop, Classes, Spells, and Skills. They�re both super simple and super complicated at the same time. Anything and everything�s written in Mana. So anytime you want to edit, code anything, it�s a huge burden. It�s all part of the System after all.�

�Right, but why even bother with Classes, Skills, Levels? We know the System�s churning unaspected Mana into itself, through living things, but why make it so complicated? Why not just� I don�t know, force you meatbags into becoming giant slug things that grow, die, and consume Mana?�

�Take away free will and options?� I rub my chin. That would make sense in a sense. Though� �We consume more Mana the more we Level. And our choices to build Levels are predicated�generally�upon who we are. But there�s no reason it might not make more sense to make us just Leveling machines, or the equivalent.�

The library brings to mind images of planets warped by the System into giant, living blobs of flesh or greenery, growing without end and merging to become a living mass that just consumes Mana, and I shudder. Even the Forbidden Planets aren�t as insane as that, though monsters might run rampant and behemoths walk the land.

Yet Classes, Skills, and Leveling seem like an inefficient manner of using Mana. Unless�

�Does Mana need to be used? Not just to grow but used for� things. The System, us.� I wave at the lake, the greenery, and the marine life that continues to try to eat me. �Maybe it needs sapient life to give Mana form, otherwise it��

I shrug. I�m not sure what it does. Grow unceasingly? Destroy life?

Knowledge, once more from the library. This time, ancillary reports from Technocrats who stay on the edge of System space, testing and learning the limits of this world.

Old recordings of worlds caught up in the Mana expansion. Worlds without the guidance of the System, or with only the barest. Mutations, change. Warped cultures, dimensional rifts. Creatures with powers that defy reasoning, ruling over worlds until they abruptly lose their powers or die to its overuse.

Skills and Classes, without form, run rampant. Monsters the size of a fingernail that destroy entire continents and titans that grow so big they are unable to move anymore.

Mana, without the constraints of the System, gives life. Gives magic, but without constraints or logic. Like a kindergarten classroom given a pile of paint and let loose. Free to make or do anything they want. With all the resulting sense and chaos.

�John?� Ali asks softly, bringing me back.

�I get it,� I say softly, wondering if I should speak the words. �I get why the System needs form. Because Mana needs structure. Without it, it�s chaos. Untamed possibility.The System rebuilds Mana into a structure, forces it to form and flow in constraints. It�s why Spells are so much more flexible, because they tap into Mana direct. But they�re also more prone to destruction, to blowing up. And are weaker��

�Because we have to control all aspects of it at the same time, including the actual Mana flow.� Ali nods.

That�s not new spell theory. It�s spellcasting 101 really�at least for spell researchers like Aiden. People like me, who buy their spells from the Store, kind of skip the theory and just use the spells like plug-and-play rituals, no different than Skills.

But just because I use magic that way doesn�t mean I don�t understand that it can be used much more flexibly. I just never had the time or desire to learn. And, as mentioned, for the equivalent Mana cost, your spells are weaker and slower.

I�m not even surprised when the System Quest updates. This time it�s a full 1%. That puts me at 90% now. Just under the trigger point for when they went after Feh�ral.

And a part of me�a reckless, insane part that cares not for the current troubles we are in, that demands I find out�wonders what it would take to trigger that last 0.1%

***

The very next day, after running around and trying to sort out Titles and Classes and committing grand larceny in one case, we found another small Shop to complete the plan. This time around, I knew exactly where I needed to go.

While waiting and transiting between our meetings, I spent the hours in-between creating the System Mana equivalent of pre-packaged viruses and code. It was a strange thing to build such code in twists of System Mana that�s connected to me and my personal Status Sheet. Each program I formed and stored was loaded into a separate location on my sheet, hidden from normal viewing and access and yet, there in my new Skill Edit sense.

Just as interestingly, the act of creation and storage of such programs gave me experience in my Class. Not a lot, not nearly as much as actually processing and interacting with the System outside of myself did�not like the flood of experience I gained from touching the Shop for example�but it did give experience.

And in so doing, made me wonder if I was wrong. If that was the way you�d Level the Class. By creating programs and viruses in one own�s Status Sheet, not exploring anything beyond that.

Except of course, the flood of System Mana was still significant. Perhaps not enough to bother me as a Heroic, but for a Basic? Certainly too much. But perhaps a Master Class.

I�m not certain, like so many other things, so I can only prepare myself. Prepare such that when I access the Shop, I breach the defenses, clear the logs, and slide in to deposit my note, it happens in one continuous surge of energy and concentration.

And then, I exit, long before the Mana accumulation is sufficient to injure me. It helps that this particular program-cum-note is simple. Left in the administrative section of the Shop�s interface, where a cursory check would find it.

A simple program with an eye-catching title��Hey Assholes!��where a single program repeatedly forms a single sentence and appends it into the end of the note. A single sentence repeated over and over. Taking up more and more resources, the way a virus would. A single, direct sentence.

Let�s talk.

Chapter 13

They find me as we travel through the air. Rather than deal with the delays and waits while using public transportation, I�ve rented an aircar. Being able to head straight for the location I want is so much more convenient, even if you have to provide your route beforehand.

In this case, we�re headed out of the city again. It�s late at night, which doesn�t mean as much as you�d think with people with high Constitutions, an overcrowded metropolis, and nocturnal inhabitants. But it is quieter, and since I�m looking for another Shop access to check on my messages, I�m moving through less savory parts.

What that translates to in terms of the environment are shorter buildings�only twenty stories tall or so�with a lot less air traffic. And what air traffic there is, it�s in vehicles like mine. Solo flying permits are just too expensive for those here.

My first clue is Ali, who is watching a reality TV show about hot men and women vying for attention on a deserted island. I�m not sure which one it is, and really, I don�t care. I do care when he stops spinning in place and stills, head tilting.

�We have multiple Class Skill lock-ons.� Even as Ali speaks, he�s drawing upon my Skills and tossing a Soul Shield on me.

I trigger a secondary shield option on one of the rings I wear, a cheap ablative Shield meant for an Advanced Classer.

Not a moment too soon, as the aircar shatters around me. A glowing comet slams into the body of the car, the glow from the dropping orbital cutting through the thick, durasteel armoring of the aircar moments before the impact arrives. Durasteel melts and tears apart, whereupon the heat and illumination of the comet fills the inside of the car. Overheated air expands, tearing the car apart as kinetic energy imparts through the still falling attack.

I am smashed aside by the approaching shockwave, then burnt from the contact heat. Leather seats smolder and crisp, my shields fall, and even a hasty addition to my Soul Shield barely lasts as I�m thrown aside.

On instinct, I conjure my sword and throw out a Blade Strike, realizing only too late what I�ve done. My attack tears at the comet as it begins its return journey, turning about in space at an unnatural angle. For a moment, the glow around the comet parts and I get to see within. As flames disperse, I see the wide-eyed visage of a golden-haired, masked female with ram horns before the flames close again and the cut I�ve made is sealed by heat and flame.

As I tumble through the air, the second attack arrives soon after the first. This time around, it�s a giant green hand that swats me out of the sky, the green energy clinging to me as I spin through the air in another trajectory. In a corner of my eyes, a notification flashes as I attempt to locate my attackers.

Lantern of Decay Resisted

�Got him. Keep being a good punching bag, will you? I�ll find the others soon,� Ali sends to me, highlighting my second attacker.

I tumble through the air, dealing with the now multifarious green hands that bat me away from the edges of buildings and keep me in the center of the open space I�ve been forced into. I get to casting, ignoring the burning, cloying green energy of decay that wraps around my shields, around me.

First comes Fates Thread, anchoring the comet to me. Then I toss Toothy Knives, a couple embedded with Cleave. The melee attack slams into the poor bastard, distracting her from me reeling her in. Which means she�s striking the green flames too, burning up with the energy of decay.

Instinct has me block the next attack, the crossbow bolt deflecting off my sword. It doesn�t help though, as the bolt implodes. Instead of falling, I�m drawn into the miniature gravity well. My hand, holding the sword, reaches it first and I feel bones twist and warp as skin and tendons are crushed and shrunk. My sword actually lasts longer than my flesh and bone, but not much.

Another crossbow bolt, targeted at my foot, is dodged but implodes as well. I�m suddenly drawn in two different directions as gravitic wells tear me apart. My chest and groin strain, and I fight back with the full Strength of the System.

�And got him too!� Ali crows.

Another light blinks on my minimap as my body goes through intense pain. Health regenerates at the same time as tendons and muscles tear.

The green hands, no longer needing to keep me busy, wrap my body in their flaming fingers while Cometgirl hovers close by, peppering me with flame-imbued Mana attacks that tear off her flame body to crash against me.

Blood pours as constrained flesh and bone rip open and holes appear in my body as the concentrated flames punch through strained flesh. My shields are gone and I�m wide open to attack, which means my health is dropping. Pain tugs at my consciousness as the decay energy finally latches on, breaching my resistances. Surprisingly, it doesn�t damage me directly, but instead retards my regeneration.

Normally, I�d Blink Step away, but with multiple Dimension Locks in place, options like Blink Step are much less viable. I�ve not had time to switch to my Hod either, so I�m hampered in terms of other options. Never mind how distinctive the Master Class work is.

�That way!� Ali gestures to the side, and I see them. They�ve split into three compass points, each at nearly a 90-degree angle to the other. Which means�

�One more?�

�Probably waiting.�

Unable to get away and hoping against hope that my presence is still hidden, I stop playing punching bag and get to work. A mental yank pulls on Fates Thread. It drags the comet closer, and she blazes higher in an attempt to burn me away.

I�m not done though. The paired gravitic imploders hold me still, forcing me to be passive in this fight. I turn within, to the Strength within my body and Status Sheet, and flex. This time, with my System Edit Skill, I can see how that changes, how the shift works and the aid that the System provides.

Rather than let it just happen via will and a slight sense of the past, I guide the shift in my Strength attribute via the System Edit Skill. Instead of a forty or fifty percent shift, I crank it all the way up to eighty.

I scream as my hand, closest to the actual gravity well, comes apart. I leave bone and skin behind as I physically yank my arm away. Then, using the freed stump, I punch Cometgirl in her face even as I fall, my body pulled toward the other gravity well. Skin sears closed, blood boils away even as blood vessels curl up from the flame. Bones crunch, her nose shatters, and she flies backward.

Then, shifting Fates Thread, I yank on her again, spinning the thread around my arm so that she twists like an oversized yo-yo. Into my gravity well near my feet.

She screams, twisting and trying to fly away. But there�s nowhere to fly, and the actual well is so powerful that I had to leave my own hand behind to escape it. I�m still trapped, my foot caught, my body curling in toward the second gravity well, held aloft only by the flames and the other well�s effects, but I figure�

�Thanks!� I shout when they do what I expect.

It takes a certain kind of person to leave your friends to die in your own attacks. And everything I�ve seen�the way the attacks coordinate, the way even now the decayed hands try to block my sight, try to stop my movement, the way more bolts fly toward me, intent on tearing me apart�shows that they�re a good team. A long-standing one.

�Not this time!� Ali flies in the direction of the bolts. He twists his hands sideways, and I feel him pulling and twisting at the air via electromagnetic force. The air flow turns erratic and the bolts are thrown off course, some veering to strike nearby buildings.

Unwary and slow flying vehicles get caught in Ali�s manipulation of reality, some of them crashing into the buildings and falling. Security systems kick in, many buildings closing down, others forming sanctuary shields to protect themselves. Bolts are buffeted, some missing only by inches as they�re diverted by the flowing air. But a little is all that�s needed when you�re shooting from kilometers away. And this time, he isn�t using gravity bolts.

It�s a smart play, leaving only a single player close on hand to keep me trapped. And if Cometgirl had been able to keep her distance, been able to keep flying back and forth to attack me, it would have worked.

Now that I�m freed, I can see her properly. I stare at her Status Screen, drinking in the details, grabbing at what�s important. Grateful that Ali has dropped the Titles.

Cometgirl (Level 13 Enervating Orbital) (M)

HP: 1421/3413*

MP: 843/1818*

Conditions: Lantern of Decay*, Mana Fount, Orbital Flames, Atmospheric Conditions, Anchored Trust, Birth of the Stars

As the gravity wells disappear, as we fall together, I can�t help but smirk. I�ve fought speedsters before, and Fates Thread is perfect for dealing with speedy asses like her. It keeps her close and that�s more than enough, for I�ve realized that they don�t have a friend-and-foe option for their own attacks. That�s the thing about fighting in teams, of being friends like these guys.

It can make you weak, if your enemy knows how to exploit it.

Sia La (Level 4 Lantern of Third Square) (M)

HP: 1230/1230

MP: 2753/4210

Conditions: Sworn to NML, Lord of Decay, Times to Twist, Flame Heart, Mana Manipulation, Reforms

Crossbowperson (Level 11 Weight of One) (M)

HP: 1743/2380

MP: 1347/2530

Conditions: Elemental Affinity: Gravity, Delayed Choice, Focused Point, One Point to Return, Till the Last.

We drop, the gravity well gone, and normal gravity reasserts itself. I pull Cometgirl close with Fates Thread, plunging my undamaged hand into her chest. I squeeze, crushing skin and organ�including a rather weird pulpy thing that twists and throbs like a heart. It might even be her heart, but alien. It might be her stomach for all I know.

�Master Class team?� I�m surprised, I admit. I�ve fought Master Classers before, been ambushed by them, once a long time ago. And knowing that, I don�t understand why they sent such low-powered Master Classes if they truly know who I am.

�Unless the Heroic�s hidden.� Ali sounds busy, his hands weaving together as he dodges the grasping flames, his presence now spotted. He�s channeling a light-based spell, using focused energy attacks to hammer at the spot where the Lantern is hanging out.

Holding onto Cometgirl, her flames eating at my skin even as I twist Soul Shield to protect me, I pull her around to take more of the attacks from the grasping green flames. She twitches and screams as she burns, the decay decreasing her regeneration, her total health and Mana. I feel it too, tearing at me, but my own Skills, my own Classes protect me at a greater level than Cometgirl�s. I wait, picking my time.

�You picked these other guys out easily enough,� I send back, snarling. I�m still holding back, worried about the last member of their team. �Can�t you find him?�

�If it�s a Heroic, no. I�ve got the Levels to deal with Master Classers now but not Heroics.� Ali is technically a Master Class, as far as the System is concerned. �If there�s a fourth, they�re hiding too well.�

My health hits half, Mana still high. I throw a Healing Spell, casting it so that it stays channeled even as I wrap the stump of my hand in the Frozen Blade spell and punch Cometgirl.

I�m pushing the team, pushing to see how far they�re willing to let me beat on their friends. Our fall has halted, Cometgirl�s powers keeping us aloft. For the most part. Each time I punch her, each time I coat her with my spell and slow her down further, we fall.

Meters from the ground, our speed arrested, I sense the threat before Ali speaks. The pair of long-range attackers have focused their attacks, forcing him to pay extra attention to help alleviate some of the incoming damage. Some, since Bolt Boy has shifted tactics and is using more energized light bolts that are less affected by Ali�s trick with air.

�Let my bondmate go!� She slams into me with a spike shoulder, tearing my arm out of Cometgirl�s chest. Along the way, I take the organ too.

I skip across the ground and off the nearby building shields, bouncing around with so much energy that I feel as if I�m playing Pong with my body. I dig in my feet, tearing up the ground, shifting my Strength to stabilize the ground and bleed off energy. As she clutches her coughing, heavily injured bondmate, I snarl at the tiny, two-foot-tall furry rabbitlike creature.

Cunwoz (Obliterating Vector Level 34) (M)

HP: 4478/4480

MP: 3210/3210

Condition: Hasted, Blurred Lines, Two Step, Between the Raindrops, Physics�what physics?

�Enough!� I snarl as I recall Ali closer. I throw up another Soul Shield, feeling my body fight the energy of decay pushing at me. �If you keep pushing, I�m going to stop playing nice.�

Cunwoz�s eyes narrow, then she tilts her head up. Long ears, which I realize have multiple eyes on them, twist about, staring around. Taking in the damage we�ve done�the flames that eat into residential shields, the blood that has rained upon the ground, the twisted wreckage of flying vehicles that smoke. The air is filled with the stink of death and decay, the flames somehow throwing off that smell even further, causing those too poor or too unlucky to choke on the poison.

And then Cunwoz stares at Ali and me. She takes in my health, the flames that still lick at my body and my missing hand where red blood drips to the ground. I watch it do the math, debating if it can win. A part of me worries that I might not. But only a small part.

I give it a grin, and the little rabbit tilts its head. �Enough.�

Silence greets the rabbit as it picks up its friend. Tiny hands expand, gripping the woman, and it takes a careful step back. I watch as blood�slower now�pumps out of Cometgirl�s body, spilling to the ground. But the green flames around her wounded body have died, peeling off to surround me. The rabbit takes another step back, still watching.

And I speak. �Wait.� Tension ratchets up, the flames stilling before bursting into further, angry motion. I can almost sense the targeting carats of the archer, but I keep talking. �We�re going to talk first. Before you leave. All of us.�

�And if we refuse?�

�Then she dies.� I nod toward the one in her arms. The tiny rabbit vibrates, but I keep talking. �Then you do. And I�ve got a lock on the other two. Maybe they can run, but they certainly can�t hide.�

�You think you can finish us.�

�I think you think I can.� I nod at the twitching Cometgirl. �And I�m certain you know she won�t live.�

Silence.

Cunwoz�s ears twitch, shifting. The body in its arms glows as healing spells layer over the heavily injured body, trying to fix the damage done by the flames. A pair of flaming hands detach from the swarm, landing on Cometgirl, changing color to yellow and flowing up and down the body.

�They�re chatting. Lousy op-sec. I could break in if you want.�

I�m curious, but I decline Ali�s offer. I split part of my attention, shifting my own Constitution around, adjusting the way I handle damage. The damage from the decay attack stops accumulating and starts dispersing as the System aids me. Of course, I help it along with a tiny Edit, but mostly, I watch.

Eventually, Cunwoz looks up, long lashes on overly large eyes meeting mine. �We talk. But not here.�

I can�t help but grin, waving her to lead the way. She moves and I follow, running to catch up. Luckily, the rabbit�s burdened by her friend, so she�s a little slower than normal.

Now, time to find out who the hell set them on me.

***

I watch with interest as we run for our lives. The team is smart, and once Cometgirl recovers, she drops behind us a series of tech and magical tools to make things difficult for our trackers. They range from the mundane, like gaseous cannisters of mixed smells, to high-tech nanite cleaners and magical Mana burst devices to destroy our Mana signatures. On top of that, a trio of localized chaos mines are added to the mix, leaking the raw energies of the chaos dimension into normal reality. It�s the most thorough cleansing I�ve ever seen, and I�ve participated in more than my fair share.

�What about the security cameras?� I say as we run.

We�ve ducked underground by this point, running through the maintenance tunnels that link the vast majority of the city, allowing easy access for droids and automated robots to ensure the city ticks over as normal.

�Diverted and turned off,� Cunwoz says, bouncing beside me. She�s eyeing me warily, but considering I�ve never let her or Cometgirl out of my sight, she�s playing it nice for now. The way she looks at me makes me think she�s getting the idea that my threat to end them all was no idle pronouncement.

And it wasn�t. The Skills I�ve gained as a Heroic have given me the ability to end them. Heck, if I got them right, Judgment of All would end things by itself, especially if I went all out with my other Skills.

That�s the difference between a Heroic and a low-level Master Class. Those final Skills as a Master Class adds another level of insanity. But violence isn�t going to win the war, even if I might win the battle here.

�Good. How long now?� I ask.

Ali, floating beside me and invisible once more, has been tracking the other two Master Classers, straining to stay focused on them and no one else.

In the meantime, I keep an eye out for trouble with my Greater Detection, low level as it is. Then again, I�m not expecting the local security forces to arrive under cover but large and loud, cocksure in their certainty of righteousness.

�Soon.�

She�s true enough to her word. We pass through a series of glowing, enchanted walls that strip us of any contaminants and also help block any scrying. When we get to the secure room, it�s hidden behind a non-descript maintenance office. Within, the break room has a small table suitable for eating or doing notes, a wall full of decontamination suits, and a map of the surrounding tunnels.

The place has a mild antiseptic smell that combines with the taint of rusted metal and stuffy clothing and makes me wrinkle my nose. More interestingly, a light hum in the air makes the hair on my skin stand up. My overworked Mana Sense tells me it�s a badly tuned active enchantment, one that covers up the other, subtler enchantments beneath its ostensible air purification. A mental pull at my Status Conditions shows a wide series of anti-scrying, anti-viewing spells in play.

Along with the furniture, I catch sight of my other attackers. Sia La and the Crossbowperson aren�t exactly what I expected. Sia La is a four-foot-tall, six-legged salamander-like creature that uses its flames to move around. And the Crossbowperson is a weird snail-monster hybrid whose back actually houses the crossbow. I realize that part of the musty, stuffed clothing smell is originating from the Crossbowperson itself.

�Well, we�re here,� I say, taking control of the meeting.

�Cunwoz, he�s yours.� I tilt my head as Cometgirl walks right over to the fridge as she speaks, yanks it open, and scoops out armfuls of food. Even as she walks, the individual containers turn on and heat up their foodstuff.

Cunwoz glares at me, then hops up on the table so that she�s closer to my eye-level. �What do you want? Assurance we�ve given up the job?�

�The name of your employer.�

�No,� Cunwoz, Crossbow, and Sia La say at the same time.

�You know, I can find out pretty easily,� I say.

�Our cutouts, certainly.� Cunwoz�s ears twitch. �But not our real employer.�

�True. But you do know who that is,� I say softly.

�I didn�t say that!� Cunwoz says while Crossbow curses in realization.

I smirk. �You guys aren�t used to intrigue, are you?�

�We aren�t used to talking to our targets!� Cometgirl snaps at me as she continues to stuff her face. She�s got half of the containers open, dipping the Galactic equivalent of a spork into the dishes and spooning-cum-spearing the food out. �They�re normally dead.�

�Well, obviously that didn�t happen.�

�Because our information on you was wrong,� Sia La says, his flames burning brighter with agitation. �You�re no Master Class. No matter what your Status says.�

I grin, opening my hands. �Sure, but I want to know who it was who set the kill order on me. I mean, you can understand my curiosity, right?�

�Understand, but it�s not our problem,� Cunwoz says. �If that�s it��

�Don�t push it, boy-o. Merc honor and all that,� Ali sends.

I hesitate, wanting to push the matter. Learning who sent them after me is important. I need to know if my cover is blown. Then again, the fact that they were going after a Master Class is clue enough, perhaps.

I wonder if our fight was too much. Maybe� but I did hold off on using any Heroic Class Skills.

I shake my head, dismissing those thoughts as the group grows impatient and Cometgirl finishes another container. �One other thing. You�ve seen some of what I can do. So I�m going to want to make sure you don�t discuss that.�

My words raise the tension in the room, with Sia La�s flames concentrating and brightening while the Crossbowperson shifts so that the bolt it carries in its frame is pointed directly at me. Even Cometgirl stops eating for a second before going back to shoveling food.

�What is it with her?�

�Regeneration Skill. She�s rebuilding overhealth reserves. It�s the reason she didn�t die when you tore out her heart and she kept losing health and blood.�

�And how do you intend to do that?� Cunwoz says.

�A Skill. It�ll force you to not disclose anything about our fight or allow you to attack me or my allies again.�

�Your allies?�

�You know who I�m speaking about.�

�Earth,� Cometgirl interrupts, food falling out of her mouth. Still now, the flames from her Class Skill are gone. �If we disagree?�

I meet her gaze flatly. She returns my stare for a bit before she turns away and goes back to eating. I turn to each of the others slowly, facing them down. Sia La growls, his flames flashing and intensifying but eventually, dimming. The Crossbowperson I fail at staring down, what with it lacking eyes that are easy to spot, but I get a squishy, squirmy bob. And last but not least is Cunwoz.

�Get it over with.�

So I do. Of course, after my first cast of the Shackles of Eternity on Cunwoz, she can�t help but speak up.

�You�re really him, aren�t you? The one they warned us about.�

�They had a warning?� I say, raising an eyebrow.

�A half dozen individuals, moving around to help Earth. One of them could be the Redeemer of the Dead, the Grand Paladin himself. A Heroic Class opponent.�

Cunwoz hesitates, and in the gap, Sia La interjects with his high-pitched voice. �You�re on a non-contact, inform-once-sighted list. Someone wants you found. And they�re paying a lot.�

�That�s nice,� I say, watching my Mana climb. I left enough to trigger Judgment of All if necessary. In this crowded area, I have the advantage over this ranged attack team. I�d prefer not to kill them, but you never know. �You wouldn�t be trying to contact them, would you?�

Cunwoz makes a little trilling sound that is so high-pitched, my ears hurt. �No. But you�ve got some major enemies. There�s not just a flat bounty on you Earthers. There�s a Galactic bounty on you specifically. Hush-hush, but it�s there.�

�Why not public?� I send to Ali, curious about that discrepancy.

�No idea. Maybe they don�t trust your average citizen not to try for somethingmore?�

�You wouldn�t happen to know who�s after me, would you?� At their silence, I sigh.

�But we got the contact information for the bounty. We could give it to you,� Sia La speaks up, buzzing closer to me. �For a price.�

�How about I not kill you? That work as a price?�

�You won�t be able to kill me before I get word out. And I�m pretty sure you don�t want that to happen. Because all you�ve been doing is to stay hidden, isn�t it?� Sia La says.

I consider taking him up on the offer. Ending him. He doesn�t know all that I can do, including Grand Cross. But� �What do you want?�

�Credits. You cost us a job. Figure you should pay for it.�

My lips twist into a snarl. �Fine. Escrow account. We�ll get you paid.�

�Get?�

�Don�t push it.� I let a little of the rage that I keep contained, that is part of me, leak. I don�t bother with an Aura. I just do it with body language and my eyes. The simple, clear knowledge that if he pushes me, I�ll end him, his friends, and then watch the rest of the city burn down.

�Fine� escrow,� Sai La says.

I offer him a tight smile. �Good. So, to summarize. You won�t tell me who hired you, you want me to pay you for the contact information on the bounty on my head and the failed hit, and we just need to finish chaining you all. That about right?�

The susurration of resigned acceptance makes me half-smile. It�s not the best option there is, but what is, is.

Chapter 14

Meeting up with the team and informing them of my recent altercation happened hours later. I verified I was safe before I made my way over, but it was clear, anonymity was no longer a guarantee. Relating the fight took only a few minutes, but the conversation itself required more time.

�I don�t get it,� Mikito says, shaking her head. �You could have finished them off. Why meet? And bind them all?�

�Information,� I say.

�But they didn�t tell you anything.�

�Actually, they did,� Harry corrects Mikito, rubbing his chin. �And I have to say, John, you�ve gotten quite sly.�

I sketch a bow. �Thank you.�

�What am I missing?� Mikito says.

�Subtlety, obviously,� Ali teases. When Mikito hefts Hitoshi in warning, Ali ducks away with a laugh. �We know whoever hired them suspects John is here but isn�t certain. If they knew, they�d never have used a bunch of Master Classers as a first strike. So it�s not the Council.�

�Exactly,� I say. �They probably think we�re hired guns, people that maybe I contacted.�

�And not ourselves.� Mikito shakes her head, short hair twisting in the motion. She runs a hand through her hair, eyeing the red in it, the thicker, almost dread-like nature the spells and enchantments made of it. �But why would the Council not be watching for us? Why are they not the ones acting?�

�Ah, that�d be Feh�ral and the Corrupted Librarians� fault.� I open my hand sideways. �One of the reasons I met with him was to get his help, and theirs. They�re used to hiding�and making a mess when they need to. Having them slide lies about our location into the System is actually easy enough, with the right Skills.�

�And that�s enough to deal with the Lady?� Harry says. �Or are you counting on her lack of attention?�

�A little of both,� I say. �Feh�ral might also be making himself a little bit of a target.�

�Why?�

�Because it doesn�t cost him much,� I say. �And because I might have a chance of learning something he could use for the Quest.�

Both of my friends roll their eyes. The fact that it�s the truth, that the possibility of solving the Quest is what drives us Questors, well, that�s just what we are. Fanatics perhaps, but reliable fanatics.

It�s also how we got the rest of the Corrupted Questors on our side, risking their lives. A promise of knowledge, of an answer is enough to drive them to action. At least, in a limited fashion.

We�re still waiting for the final verdict, for the testing to be done on the knowledge I�ve passed on to them. Until that happens, they�re willing to extend some help, but not all that they can offer.

�Fine. So they have guesses on why we�ve not come to Earth�s help directly. Which is why you delayed us going in, because running straight in would leave us trapped.� Mikito ticks off on her fingers as she speaks. �You�ve got the Questors creating distractions as us. You�ve got Feh�ral being a distraction. And you snuck us in with the Lord�s help.

�But that still leaves us being attacked by people who don�t want Earth to keep its seat. And they�re still looking for us�or what they think are us. The more fights we get into, the more likelihood our cover will be blown.�

I nod. �Aye. Good news is that we�ve only got to survive a few more days.�

There are quite a few relieved nods at that, and I grin slightly.

I pause, my head snapping to the side. Something happens in the far distance, in the fifth ring, outside of the scope of my immediate awareness. I feel a connection snap, a portion of me disappear, and I blink. �Oh.�

Mikito tenses, seeing my face, then her eyes glaze over a little as she scans for trouble around us. But there�s no immediate danger, as Ali informs them.

�We just lost one of John�s doppelgangers.�

I�m silent as data streams in. I pull at the memories, System-formed and provided to me in a block. It�s kind of like the library, the way the data is parsed. Strange, since it�s not really my memories.

�What happened?� Harry says, his voice filled with concern.

�Not sure yet. I�m still trying to understand what happened. I just know he�s dead now.� I cock my head, giving Ali a look.

The Spirit rolls his eyes, but his fingers twitch as he looks into public broadcasts.

�And your other one?� Harry says.

�Doing his job,� I say. When Harry raises an eyebrow, I shrug. �He�s disposable, and we need to keep moving. He�s on-planet right now anyway.�

�That�s� not very nice,� Mikito points out.

�Mana construct.�

�You know, that sounds a lot like slavery,� Harry says. �And sacrificing what we don�t like.�

�Except he�s not real. No soul. Just a program. A very, very complex program, but a program.� I shake my head. �Trust me, I know.�

�How?� Mikito asks.

�My Skill,� I say.

It had been rather fascinating, using the Skill while triggering Extra Hands. I�d been able to view the process the System used to create my Mana doppelganger, watched how his body was formed. Even his physical body was, for all intents and purposes, non-existent, a replica constructed of Mana itself. That Mana could duplicate the entire process of life so easily was fascinating, especially since it almost seemed as if it hungered to do so. The body was biologically sound, as far as I knew�though how far that went, I wasn�t certain.

The memories I get, they�re edited. Portions. Not real. More like bullet points or flashes of insight.

�We�re getting off track here. We can discuss John�s lack of ethics with regard to his doppelgangers later,� Harry says. �I�m more curious about what we�re going to do about the information we�ve acquired.�

�That�s why we�re here to discuss it, no?� I open my hands. �It seems they�ve got multiple attack units out. Some high-Level Advanced Class teams, some Master Class teams too I�d bet. And whatever it was that took out my doppelganger.�

�Not whatever. Who,� Ali speaks up.

We turn to the Spirit, who is looking troubled. He shifts his hands and security footage blooms. The video comes from multiple angles, providing full details.

It�s a good thing too, since the fight itself is over in seconds. My doppelganger is moving down the street, Soul Shield active, Greater Detection in play. It doesn�t matter though, because his assailant doesn�t try to hide. Instead, he walks right out into the middle of the street, throwing his cloak back and striking a wide-legged pose. Gold edging on his armor glints and sparkles in the streetlamps, showing off his pink skin and small tusks.

Memory stirs, a flash of emotion from the doppelganger�s memory. Arrogance. Towering arrogance.

�Halt! In the name of the Galactic Council, you are ordered to stop your activities and come back with me,� Kasva, the Champion of the Council, says.

Irvina residents are scrambling, leaving as fast as they can as a sixth sense tells them to get the hell out. I don�t blame them. I wouldn�t want to be around when a pair of Heroics fight either.

�Yeah, no. Why don�t you just fuck off?� my doppelganger snaps.

�Well, I tried.� Kasva shrugs.

And then he moves. One second, Kasva�s hundreds of meters away from my Hand. The next, he�s right next to him and swinging. Kasva calls forth a double-bladed sword, one with blades jutting out from both sides and each blade as thick as a good-sized tree. It�s what I�d call an anime weapon�too large and weighty to be practical for anyone who didn�t have the boosted stats of a Combat Classer in the Advanced stages.

My doppelganger brings out his own weapon, a simple sword that�s unenchanted but of good make. Standard wear for your average Erethran soldier when they don�t have a Soulbound weapon. It doesn�t even last a second as Kasva�s blade cuts right through the weapon, the Soul Shield, then halfway down my Hand�s body. A savage yank rips out the blade, detaching my Hand�s arm in the process.

A part of me wanders about all the lost limbs I keep getting. Involuntarily, I look at my regrown hand and flex it, a phantom pain briefly making an appearance before the System and my higher stats push them aside.

Of course, my Hand is like me. Pain isn�t something that stops us�not after all this time, not with the sheer number of defenses the System has built into our minds against it. The remaining hand pushes forward, a Chaos mine aiming to attach itself to Kasva�s body.

It fails, because Kasva isn�t there. He�s moving fast, faster than almost any other fighter I�ve dealt with that isn�t a pure Speedster. He�s also smart, having already started shifting the moment his attack was finished.

Another cut, another dodge that misses. The mine goes off, raw Chaos energy spilling into the environment and tearing at the pair of bodies. It forms into ropes of intestines that sizzle upon contact with ground and flesh. It doesn�t kill, it damages, but it doesn�t end there. Another sword is conjured by my doppelganger, cutting at Kasva, but again, it�s dodged.

And another cut, this one bisecting my Hand�s head. It flops to the ground, rolling away. The body stays for a second before it disperses, bloody bits breaking up as Mana is taken back by the System.

�Disappointing. But at least we learned something new.� Then Kasva looks up, right at where one of the security cameras is recording. He�s smiling but there�s a blankness to his eyes, a cold finality that reminds me of large predators, the kind that lie waiting rather than stalking you. �You�re going to have to do better if you want to beat me. You�ll need to stop holding back, Redeemer.�

Then the recording cuts off, leaving us in silence.

�Welp, I don�t need to change my pants. Not at all,� Harry says into the silence. �Now, if you�ll just excuse me for a second��

***

Harry returns to us discussing what we saw of Kasva and his abilities. Perhaps most prominent of all was one simple fact.

�He wasn�t using any major Skills.� Mikito frowns. �You sure that�s all you have on his Skill use?� That question is to Ali, who nods. �Then I�m leaning toward a passive build.�

�Like Bolo?� I say.

�Yes. With maybe a couple of Heroic Class Skills held as trumps.�

�Can we find out what they might be?� I ask.

�Already tried, boy-o. Not possible. The Council clamped down on that real hard.�

I�m not particularly surprised. What we�ve seen of his Skills speak to a lot of passives. Not just in terms of damage dealt or speed, but also in high attributes. Higher than normal for certain�or else he�s learned to adjust the flow and guidance of his attributes to just speed. Which might be possible, but I consider it unlikely. After all, we still have to leave some level of control to the System to stabilize the physical world around us. Or else we�d burst into flame, shatter the ground, or heck, slip and fall on our faces.

�There�s something strange about the way he moves,� Mikito says softly, shifting the fight again. She replays the part where I�my Hand�tried to clamp the Chaos Mine onto Kasva�s body and lets it repeat.

�He�s smart enough to know to not be there when I�m going to attack.� I shrug. �Means he�s trained.�

�No.� Mikito shakes his head. �Look at his momentum, the way he shifts. If he really thought you�d attack that line, he wouldn�t have put all his weight down. He actually has to force himself into a new line to dodge�� Mikito looks at me, a half-smile forming. �You�ve actually gotten pretty good at that.�

�That?�

�Anticipating movements and momentum,� Mikito says. �See how he shifts there? It�s like he suddenly realizes what you�re going to do and shifts to adjust. Rather than planning for the shift beforehand.�

�You can plan for that?� I say.

�I can,� Mikito replies confidently. �I do.� She lets the rest of the short fight play out. �He doesn�t. I think he�s got a future forecasting Skill.�

I frown. �You sure? That doesn�t look like his kind of build��

�Bought. Or maybe it�s part of the Council Champion. Might make thematic sense,� Ali points out.

�I thought those Skills aren�t very useful?� Harry cuts into the conversation. �At least, that�s what most fighters tell me.�

�They aren�t,� I say. �Normally.�

�It�s the problem of attributes. You need both a high Perception ability to �see� properly and a high Intelligence attribute to understand what you�re seeing without going insane,� Ali says. �In normal circumstances, people like the Oracles and the like either get cryptic prophecies that are provided to them as a whole, or they see the prophecies as visions and end up trying to explain them as either bad poetry or too straightforward words. Since they can�t �see� fully, often those kinds of prophecies are hard to understand. Or trust. On top of that, of course, it�s all a matter of guesstimation off current known events. It�s not �true� future seeing.�

�I know that,� Harry says. �But if you�re seeing only a few seconds ahead, isn�t that easier?�

�Is it easier to see the cells on a leaf or the tree itself?� Mikito says. �Stare too close, and potential actions explode in number.�

�Too far into the future though and you can�t even see the tree anymore,� I add.

�So seeing into the future isn�t possible because there are too many options to judge normally? And requires too many attributes?� Harry says to confirm.

�Exactly. But he�s moving like a bullet and dodging ahead of time. And that Strength�� I shake my head, pointing at the attacks. �It�s not a momentum-based Skill that adds to damage either. It�s raw Strength.�

�So how is he doing this?� Harry says.

I share a look with Mikito and Ali before the three of us give Harry a shrug. Without more to go on, we can only guess. And we�d already offered that�a series of Passive Skill builds. Whatever the answer is, it�s certain that he�s a very dangerous opponent.

�Do we continue then?� Mikito says, making another window appear.

I look at the numbers Mikito shows, frowning. Even our best estimates show that we�ve convinced only two-thirds of the people we need to get a null vote.

�Do we have a choice?� Harry says unhappily.

�Can we even make it?� I say softly, tapping the screen and tossing out another screen. This one has a list of those we still have to contact. �We�ve got what, sixty-four still on the list? And of those, the majority were in our �well, maybe it�d work� list or we suspect they�re stringing us along?�

There are nods from the group, and I flick my hand, pulling up another list. The pair peer at it, having never seen this list before. It doesn�t take them long to realize what it is.

�This is a kill list.� Harry sounds disapproving.

�Yes,� I say. �Everyone whose asked us to end someone else for their votes which I haven�t accepted or who we think might be worthwhile ending anyway.�

�And you want to agree to it?� Harry shakes his head. �You�re good, John, but some of these guys have Master Class bodyguards. And without the ability to teleport from location to location��

�Or verify security procedures, backup plans, doppelgangers, Skills, or set-up times,� Mikito says. �Never mind automatic reprisal plans. This is a bad idea.�

�I know.� I shake my head. �There�s no way for us to finish all of this. Not even with my Extra Hands.�

�Then?�

I nod to Harry, smiling widely. �We just need to screw up the votes, right? And there�s never any guarantee that they�d vote for us. So let�s overturn the apple cart.�

�You want me to publicize this list?�

�And the recordings of the requests we have,� I say, confirming his guess.

�I�� Harry shakes his head. �This isn�t a good idea. Many of these might be our friends, or at least are moderately inclined to help us.�

�Inclined but not going to. We�re already fucked, so we might as well finish this,� I say, lowering my voice as I try to wheedle him into doing what I want.

�I�� Harry straightens himself and shakes his head. �No. I won�t do this. Not without speaking with Katherine.�

�That�s��

�Not a good idea?� Harry crosses his arms. �Because she�s going to say no?� He harumphs. �Exactly. And you�re not going to do it either, not without getting Earth�s agreement.�

I raise an eyebrow at his tone, the way he�s so certain I�ll agree. He glares at me and I return his gaze, the pair of us facing one another down. Seeing who will break first.

Into the silent contest of wills, Mikito arrives with a smack on the back of my head.

�Owww!� I say, looking at her. I touch my head where the bloody wound is already healing. �That hurt.�

�Of course it did, you baka tank!� Mikito says. �You think I could get your attention with a love tap?� She wrinkles her nose. �I�m not Roxley.�

�Or Lana,� Ali says.

�Lana would step between him and Harry and lean forward,� Mikito says.

�True. She had great� ass-ets,� Ali finishes with a waggle of his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. �We were in the middle of something here.�

�A measuring contest. Yes, we know.� She points at Ali. �He�s the biggest, because he isn�t human. Get over it.� She glares at me. �You�re asking Earth�s permission before you burn all their bridges.� When I open my mouth to protest, Mikito steps closer and drops her voice. �It�s not your life you�re gambling with here. And you don�t have to do it all by yourself.�

I shake my head. As if I didn�t know it isn�t just my life. Does she think I take these kinds of risks, accept this kind of insanity when it comes to just my life? This is a new level of chaos. If we had any other choice�

But I can�t think of one.

�Fine,� I say, throwing up my hands. �We�ll ask them. We�ll see what other ideas, what else Katherine has chosen to do.�

�And if she says no?� Harry says.

�Then�� I�m uncertain of what else to say.

In the end, I shrug. We have only a few days left, and I�m out of ideas. Perhaps I�ll think of something at the last minute, but what it is, I have no idea. We need to make sure that vote doesn�t pass.

***

Meeting up with Katherine is no easy matter. We have to be careful about how we contact her. And even more careful of when and where we set up the meet. In the end, it�s two days later, two long days where we lay low and send out my Extra Hands to do what they can and we�quietly�remeet with some of our failed targets.

The only good news we receive is that the vote has been delayed again. There�s a big flare-up of trouble as a dungeon outbreak occurs between the border of the Truinnar and Movana empires. It�s quickly revealed that the Movana set off the outbreak, which then devolves into a giant squabble between the parties.

Emergency resolutions after emergency resolutions are thrown around, with no end in sight. The entire thing might resolve tomorrow or a month later, according to Harry.

Now that we�re finally able to meet up with Katherine, that�s, of course, when I get the message. It�s a simple text message, but it�s one I can�t turn down.

14:45pm at the System Helix Shrine.

� Duchess Kangana

�Thousand hells,� I swear. �I got to do this.�

�Perfect timing�� Mikito mutters, making a face. She stares at the notification for a long time before she nods to me. �Go.�

�You guys��

�Will be fine. Just go.�

I nod and accept her word. I switch directions, heading for a bullet train that�ll get me to the second ring and in the direction of the Shrine rather than into the fifth ring like the team. Hopefully their meeting goes well, but I�ll have to get briefed later. I�ve been waiting to speak with the Duchess forever.

The ride to the second ring is quiet, if a little tense. The security procedures in the third ring are much tighter than anywhere else, but the Shrine is one of the few places anyone can travel to�if they can afford the cost. There are even special conveyances that go directly to the Shrine and nowhere else.

Of course, calling the multi-hectare, fifty-story tall structure a Shrine is kind of like calling the Hagia Sophia a little roadside chapel. The entire Shrine is made of crystallized Mana, solidified Mana in which data, knowledge, is embedded. Each person who pays a visit to the Shrine of the System leaves a small Mana crystal at each visit, a gift of their best knowledge, their best craft. Something that may be gifted outward to another, as the priests and bishops of the System deem fit.

Over the centuries, the Shrine has grown from a small, single-room building into this towering edifice. Often, the Shrine is the last chance for an individual to make a difference as they beg for a new Class, a new Skill, knowledge on how to gain a Title that will change their life.

And all too often, they fail. But we don�t talk about that part.

Thousands of supplicants walk into the building, streaming through the numerous doors to journey within. I step to the side, watching as sapients walk, hop, glide, and lope forward. Some walk with confidence. Others shrink and slide within, scared of their own shadows. But the glowing blue building swallows them all without hesitation, accepting their worship without judgment.

�First time?� The voice catches me by surprise. Not by the speaker�s presence but that they chose to speak to me at all.

�Yes.� I turn to the speaker, blinking a little at the masked, android-like face. I stare, realizing a bit late that he breathes like a living organism. Whoever, whatever it was, it�s now more machine than organic.

�I see you�re one of the blessed.� It inclines its head toward Ali in his glowing, crystal form.

�You can see him?� I raise an eyebrow. An unusual ability, but not uncommon.

�The System has gifted me such sight.� A spark, a flood of Mana that does nothing as the creature speaks. �But I�m rude. I am Ote, the Six Hundred Eighteenth version of its line.�

I want to ask but suppress my curiosity. I have other things to do. �Nice to meet you, Ote.�

If Ote seems perturbed by my lack of introduction, it doesn�t show it. �It is a small thing, to ask the System for its guidance. Just walk the halls. When you feel it is right, offer your gift. And if you think it appropriate, you may ask it for guidance. If the System wills it, it will answer.�

�How long a walk?� I�m wondering how I�m going to find the Duchess in the building, because she sure as hell hasn�t told me.

Ali�s busy looking for her, but with the sheer amount of Mana the Shrine represents, both of our abilities to scan the surroundings have fallen to meters.

�That is a matter of contention.� Ote opens his arms. �Some walk the halls for decades, making their plea. Others say that the System is all-knowing, all-giving when it wants. And as such, a single brief sojourn is all that is needed.�

�And the bigger the Gift, the better chance you�ll get an answer?� I say wryly, even as I tell Ali to keep looking.

�Not at all. The System does not care for what you gift. It is, after all, already known to it. It is the act itself, rather than the contents, that matter.� Ote drops his buzzy voice and leans in. �Or so the priests say. Me, I try to give the best I can.�

I snort but watch as Ote wanders off. Practical and religious. �Interesting guy.�

�More than you know.� Ali updates my minimap with a map of the entire building. Along with it, there�s a pathway that�s marked out and an x with a timer on it. �A little gift.�

�Sneaky.� I eye the time and distance, then the crowd. I sigh and walk. Not much time if I want to make it there as scheduled.

We walk through the crystal hallways in silence, the air within chilly, lower than human comfortable. Occasionally it�s warmed by a passing sapient creature, one burning with the flames of its own body like the salamander-man or a living lava ball. Each passing sapient Systemer adds to the mixed aroma of the building, creating a unique stench that has me breathing through my mouth while I attempt to forget about the stink. It�s the least pleasant parts of a skunk�s tail, an uncared for barnyard, and a compost pile mixed together and amplified.

Most penitents move in silence, which makes the few who chant, sing, or orate all the more stark in appearance. Passages of Systemer-creed are spoken, sung, or otherwise announced, while others beg for salvation and help from the crystal walls. Occasionally, stifled sobs break the silence, only to be ignored by the uncaring public.

As I turn the umpteenth passageway, Ali breaks our internal silence. �I�m a little surprised how few of you humans have taken up the Systemer creed.�

�Why?� I send back.

�Just seems like you humans liked your religion.�

�We�re rather a stubborn bunch.� I briefly wonder what it�s like for those who still hold onto the old religions. But it�s not something I�ve ever bothered to look into.

Having edged his way into the conversation, Ali drops his next statement. �Surprised you didn�t take it up either.�

�Was never religious.�

�Why?�

My answering silence is met by a rather impatient hmmm across the mental network. When Ali continues to send the same hmmm, I give in. If nothing else, it�ll cover the rather boring walk.

�I don�t trust people. Not really. And all those religions, they�re touched by humanity. Religious text copied over and over again by self-serving, short-sighted, careless, and dumb humans. I�ve seen code a year old messed up beyond all recognition. How am I supposed to trust books hundreds of years old?�

�So you don�t believe in god? A higher power?� Ali asks.

�Didn�t say that. Just that I�m not sure that anyone has ever gotten it right. It doesn�t matter anyway.�

�Why not?�

�If there�s a god worthy of following, then he�s worth following if I believe in him or not. And to paraphrase a wise man, if he isn�t, then to hell with him.�

The look Ali gives me makes it hard to keep my face straight. While I�m not lying, I�ve never really thought much about gods before the System. And afterward, for a long time, I was too busy trying to stay alive to worry about what came after. Even now, with all the evidence of the System being something artificial, I haven�t been convinced either way. The problem with religion is it requires a leap of faith. To ignore the logic of science and good sense, the contradictions that arise, and just believe. I�ve never been able to do that.

As for the Systemers themselves, in many ways, they�re the complete opposite of Questors like me. They take the System to be a god, to be something all-powerful. And I admit, by factual evidence and effect on everyday life, the System has meddled much more than any remote god. But Questors like me believe there�s a reason, a truth to what the System really is. And Systemers just believe.

At least for the main religion. There are obviously offshoots, heresies, and individuals who combine the insanity and the obstinance of both parties, focused on both worshiping and understanding the System itself. Many of those have become Corrupt Questors, known for their unbending pursuit of the truth without care or morality.

I have way too many memories of those people in my library.

We walk together, traveling the hallways of Mana, passing supplicants as we follow the map. Subconsciously, I adjust the speed of our passage as we move to ensure that I arrive on time.

The longer I walk, the more I realize that this is an ingenious method of meeting. We�re all walking through the shrine, and only through chance or planning would one meet another within.

We get to the passageway just a little early, and somehow, I�m not surprised to see a familiar figure. Hondo Ehrish, Weaponmaster for Clan Kangana, makes his appearance, walking ahead of who I expect is the Duchess. He looks well, like himself. Big, strong, slightly scarred. Grumpy.

So many years have passed since our first meeting. And he is no longer an Advanced Class, but a Master Class now. A low-Level Master Class, since his duties keep him away from the dungeons and the planets where he could Level. It�s strange, to me, to think that I have passed Hondo in personal strength, when years ago, he was such a fearsome opponent.

But it�s part of the problem of serving another. When you subsume your own needs for others, you also reduce the speed of your Leveling. Certainly safer, certainly more likely to survive, and as a Master Class, he probably has a very comfortable life ahead of him. Not one filled with pain and suffering, danger and tragedy around each corner like we have lived for so many years now.

And the reward for all my emotional toll, for all the risk-taking, is in the widening of his eyes, the twist in his lips as he begins to sneer then stops himself. When he realizes the vast difference between myself and him now. Because even if I have adjusted my Levels and hidden my Heroic Class, he knows the truth. As does his mistress.

She sweeps into the room, proceeded only seconds ahead by her Aura. The Aura of the Frozen Winter Queen pings off my resistances, reminding me of who she is. Like her servant, the Duchess Kangana is not a Heroic, just a late Master Class. Though she might gain experience from doing her duties, from ruling, such experience gain is much slower and less plentiful, if steadier than throwing oneself into the middle of a Forbidden Planet.

As interesting as her Class is, so are her looks. The Duchess is gorgeous. And I�m talking gorgeous in relation to other Master Class level Charisma-influenced individuals. She�s tall, nearly six and a half feet tall, with the dark skin of the Truinnar and the striking, bright eyes that come with her kind. Her hair is long and lustrous, swaying just above the swell of her behind in a tightly wound, compact braid. Legs for days, and a shapely figure like a model underneath a sharp, angular face.

As for her dress, it�s a flowing, multi-layered cloth piece that reminds me of a saree�the more risqu� kinds that reveal as much as they hide. She draws more than one hungry gaze, but I know it�s from the Aura she uses as much as her beauty.

Snorting, I turn from her with a visible yank, moving away from the woman. How the hell we�re supposed to meet without people noticing, I have no idea.

After half a dozen steps, my pace slightly slower than hers, a slight touch on my arm startles me. I turn my head even as I drop a Toothy Knife into my palm.

Beside me is a young lady, another Truinnar. Plain-looking, just about as tall as me, dressed in Adventurer chic. She bobs her head, and I feel a slight shift in the Mana around us. A Skill kicks on, but it�s so subtle you wouldn�t realize it was there if you didn�t pay attention. A new condition appears in my Status display.

Condition: Secret Liaisons

Sometimes, midnight assignations have to be done during the day. Secret Liaisons allows a lady to speak and interact with her lover in public without drawing attention. A combination of magical, psychic, emotional, and System influence makes others ignore the interactions within the field of the Skill.

�A pleasure meeting you, Redeemer.� The greeting is whispered, a simple low, throaty growl that makes me shiver and pings my Mental Resistances.

My eyes narrow as I read the Skill notification, the Resistance notification, then her Status. Which, surprisingly, is filled with question marks. Even for her name.

�Duchess,� I say in conclusion.

�Good. Graxan did say you were smarter than your actions would lead many to believe,� the Duchess-in-disguise says. She steps forward, making sure we keep walking, pulling away from the fake-Duchess but still within proximity.

�Smart. Doppelganger and Skills to take away attraction. Add in the Shrine�s natural abilities to hide scrying and a routine for coming in, and I�m surprised more people don�t use the Shrine for their meetings,� Ali says.

I can only send a mental shrug to him while I speak with the Duchess. �I�m sure you�ve had time to consider my request.�

�So direct�� The Duchess smiles and nods. �I have. I have spoken with your Earthen representative too. He has offered much, but all of it dependent upon successfully seeing off this challenge to the World�s sovereignty.�

I grunt a little in surprise that she talked to Rob. When she sees my surprise, the Duchess sniffs.

�Did you think I would deal with a middleman in such matters? I am loath to waste my time.�

�Then why are you talking to me at all?�

�Maybe not as smart.�

I growl in response to her taunt.

�You have something they do not have, of course.�

�My Class.�

�Insignificant.� The Duchess shakes her head. �I can acquire one of your stature if necessary. Credits do have their own strength. As do favors.�

My eyes narrow as she falls silent. I walk with her, crossing one hallway after the other, eyeing the various supplicants. I see one golem-like creature made of sand pushing its fist into the wall, the Mana crystal dissolving to take his arm. When he pulls back, the wall hardens, leaving his hand within, where it slowly transforms into crystal too.

Eventually, the Duchess speaks, naming what she wants. �Answers. You have answers to why the Council acts with such impertinence. They have upset centuries of political norms, attacking diplomatic locations, making their wishes known.�

�It�s a dangerous secret,� I say.

�All secrets worth having are dangerous.�

And once more, we walk in silence as I mull over my options. �Fine. I�ll let you know what they want to keep hidden, what this is all about.� The start of the lady�s smile is squashed as I continue. �After the vote.�

�You�d have me waste political resources for a promise?�

�Or for me to provide a secret on one?� I counter.

She turns her head, and I meet her gaze too. Violet eyes bore into mine, an unyielding will pressing against me. But I find it easy to dismiss the pressure she exerts. I�ve faced down an Empress before. A mere Duchess is nothing�even if she controls as large a volume of space as the Empress does.

�You could use your Skill,� she offers.

�As you said, Credits have their own power. Be a simple matter for you to break it, with the right kind of hire. Or using the System.� I shake my head. �This secret stays with me until you vote. But whatever the result, I promise you this. I�ll tell you the truth.�

The Duchess turns away, staring at the walls as we walk. Behind us, a loud thump, then a body comes flying past me. Hondo strides after the body, but the walls of the Shrine act first, picking up the plastic-creature that dared to approach the fake-Duchess and absorbing it.

As I reel with surprise at the actions, Ali slides into my mind. �Relax. It�s just depositing him in another corridor. No killing.�

I nod dumbly, relaxing. Only to tense as the Duchess speaks. �Very well. I shall take your word. I expect you will make arrangements that such information passes on, no matter what happens to you?�

�As best as I can.�

The Duchess nods and, without bidding me farewell, takes an off-shoot passage. Leaving me to stroll on alone. Hondo and the fake-Duchess make their way over to her passageway. And just like that, our meeting is over.

�She never did say how much help she�d bring,� Ali muses.

�Nope. Also, another important question,� I send.

�What?�

I stare down the featureless blue crystal walls, the passageway that splits and splits again as it leads me through the multi-hectare, multi-story building. Packed with sapients, praying, chanting, singing, and exuding pheromones.

�How the hell do we get out?�

Chapter 15

If this was a Hollywood story, when I finally deposited my little nugget of information, my crystallized warp of Mana and information into the Shrine, it would have bestowed upon me some great Skill, some nugget of information that would have solved all my problems. Sadly, even when I left the Shrine with my most closely guarded secret, it offered me nothing.

Not even a feeling of pleasant exchange.

Forced to join the exiting throng of disillusioned supplicants, I move in the crowd of hopping, floating, walking sapients. Two transits and one long walk to verify I�m not being followed later, I�m relaxed enough to check on the status of the team. Since they aren�t home yet, I divert myself to a nearby Shop sphere, accessing a private room and using Extra Hands to form another copy.

While my doppelganger picks up various equipment to resculpt his face and make himself not so human-looking, I take the time to review my own Status Screen and consider my next steps. My Credit pool is sadly bereft, though only by the standards of a Heroic. I still have more than enough to pay for daily events and even pick up a couple of lower-end Class Skills, but� what�s the point?

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Junior System Admin (Grand Paladin)

Race

Human (Male)

Level

3 (12)

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter, Corrupt Questor, (Living Repository), (Class Lock)

Health

6000

Stamina

6000

Mana

5740

Mana Regeneration

474 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

422

Agility

495

Constitution

600

Perception

403

Intelligence

593

Willpower

574

Charisma

225

Luck

256

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield*

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Shackles of Eternity*

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force*

Domain

Judgment of All

(Grand Cross)

(2)

(Extra Hands)

(3)

System Edit

External Class Skills

Instantaneous Inventory

Frenzy

Cleave

Tech Link

Elemental Strike

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps

Analyze

Harden

Quantum Lock

Elastic Skin

Disengage Safeties

Temporary Forced Link

Hyperspace Nitro Boost

On the Edge

Fates Thread

Peasant�s Fury

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Enhanced Particle Ray

Variable Gravitic Sphere

Zone of Denial

I�d made a few changes on my Status Screen, spending a ton of the free attribute points I�d saved to test how it affected my ability to handle the Mana code. Unfortunately, even adding points to each of my attributes slowly, one after the other, and running the tests, it seemed that attributes had only a marginal affect on my ability to handle System Mana. Constitution, Intelligence, and weirdly, Luck all gave me a little more time. Perception let me handle and understand the flow faster, but it didn�t increase the amount of time I had before I started taking serious damage.

No, the biggest determinant of how long I could stay within the System and edit things? My Level. And interestingly enough, this is one case where my Junior System Administrator Level counts as much as my �fake� Levels.

Sadly, even when I Leveled up my Administrator Class, I didn�t double dip and gain additional attributes. I found it strange that I received attribute points when I leveled my other Class, but didn�t want to look a gift horse in the mouth. But when it didn�t double dip and give me those attribute points for the Administrator Class for which the actual attributes should have been linked to, then I was real curious.

Of course, it�s not as if I can actually ask the System why it�s doing what it is. Nor do I have anyone else to experiment or compare with. The only thing I can think of is that the System has to give me those attribute points immediately�otherwise, my fake Class would be a poor fake.

On top of that, I�ve got the adjustments to my Class Skills, including the unhappy experience of learning how to upgrade my Skill Edit ability. Specifically, when I was meant to get a new Class Skill point at Level 3, the free point I hadn�t used beforehand had been taken and used immediately to level it.

Now, I have a second point in Skill Edit and no free Class Skill point to use in case I need it for something else. The good news is that the upgraded System Edit Skill allows me to adjust code easier. I even get the feeling that with a few upgrades, I could edit certain types of code I�ve been locked out of thus far. But�

It doesn�t help with my ability to kick ass. And the fact that Kasva is running around makes me feel the lack of ass-kicking Skills even more than normal. It�s kind of amusing how I keep fluctuating between feeling like a goddamn demigod and feeling useless and underpowered.

Sure, having a total of three doppelgangers that I can use might be useful�if it didn�t drain nearly my entire Mana pool to conjure a single Extra Hand. And even though Grand Cross�s second Level is powerful, adding even more damage to what is already a ridiculous Skill, I still feel underpowered.

Grand Cross (Level 2)

The burden of existence weighs heavily on the Paladin. This Skill allows the Paladin to allow another to share in the burden. Under the light of and benediction of the Grand Paladin, under the weight of true understanding, wayward children may be brought back to the fold.

Effect: Damage done equals to (Willpower * 22) per square meter over radius of (1/10th of Perception2) meters. Damage may be increased by reducing radius of the Grand Cross. Does additional (Willpower) points of damage per second for 11 seconds.

Cost: 2000 MP

Now, that doesn�t seem like a lot of damage for a single point attack. After all, my Advanced Class Skill already does over fifteen thousand points of damage. If you don�t include resistances, armor, and the like, even I�d fall to one of my own Advanced Class attacks. And I�m a �tank.�

So when you look at it that way, doing roughly fourteen thousand points of damage is nothing. And sure, there�s a damage-over-time effect, but most Paladins would have the Judgement of All for a much better damage-over-time effect.

That is, until you get to the part where I�m able to increase damage by concentrating the attack. And since it is very rare I need to use it at the full size of seventeen kilometers radius, the ability to concentrate damage stacks. And it stacks at an incredible rate when you consider how fast my attributes are increasing.

Of course, the issue with a Skill like this�much like Sanctum�is the need to control size and placement. It�s not like Beacon of the Angels, where I point and activate, letting it do its things. Beacon might take longer to charge up, but the attack doesn�t require much in the way of concentration once I use it.

Whereas with Grand Cross or Sanctum, I have to pre-fill in the details before activating or else it defaults to its base setting. In Grand Cross, that�s smacking down everyone at maximum size. With Sanctum, it�s forming itself around me at maximum size, enveloping everything.

Both are powerful but have to be used carefully. I�ve also noticed, upon inspecting Sanctum with my Skill, that the �all� portion of the Skill description is a little misleading. In its entirety in System Script, it�s actually a formula calculation�much like I�m seeing for my newer Skills�that indicates the amount of damage it can absorb per second before it falls apart.

In fact, upon inspecting most �absolute� statements from the System, there�s often more detail. Sometimes it�s just a matter of translation. Sometimes I can see the workings of a System Admin in there, adjusting descriptions to something that�s a little more user-friendly.

Reviewing my Status Screen is really my way of procrastinating. I can�t buy much in terms of new Skills, and with my penniless nature, I don�t have the funds to buy anything really cool. Never mind the fact that I�m filled to the brim between the System Edit and Class Skills. In fact, my Grand Paladin Class Skills are all side-loaded, meaning they�re even slower to activate than I�d like.

No, I�m just wasting time reviewing my Status Screen because there�s something else I have to do. Drawing a deep breath of the stale, recycled air of the Shop anteroom, I place my hands on the Sphere and slip into the System layer. Repeated tests have shown it�s relatively safe for me to access the admin level of the Shop, thus far. I could almost swear the System is built so that finding other Administrators is hard, the way it naturally obscures logging functions. And makes it even easier to obscure your own further.

Still, I don�t have a lot of time to go over such details, not with the need to layer my protections and ensure I�m hidden before I slip within and look for a message. And this time, I�m surprised to note there is one.

It�s pretty simple, though I do have to disable a nasty little locator virus before I open the file.

Meet at 198.55.xmu.$@90.55

There�s a date afterward, but the moment I see the address, it feels as if it�s branded into me. I reel backward out of the System, cutting the feed and the Mana draw, shutting down any tracing as I stagger back.

My doppelganger stares at me and sniffs. Which is just weird when his face is mine�if I was in full V-lizard face makeup. You wouldn�t realize it was me if you didn�t know what to look for, but because it�s my face, I do.

�Idiot. You should be more careful. And wipe your nose,� the Hand says. The voice is mine, but grouchier, lower.

I blink, touching my nose and feeling blood running down it. I wipe it away, grateful that I�m not bleeding further as System regeneration fixes the damage.

�What was it?� the Hand asks.

�An address.�

�System address? You should be careful. That Skill is dangerous,� the Hand says.

�No shit.� I�d love to have the doppelgangers use it, but funnily enough, they don�t have it. While they might replicate my attributes at a lower percentage, they don�t have the System Edit Skill. Which is, in itself, fascinating. �Now, please stop talking to me. It�s really weird listening to me talk.�

Doppelganger John rolls his eyes but does shut up. One good thing about the System making it based off me, it seems to accept that I really don�t want to talk to myself. And makes the doppelgangers respect my wishes�the same way I would my own.

No, that sentence doesn�t make much sense. But it�s not a very sensible world.

�Well, if that�s it. I�m off.� The doppelganger waves goodbye off-handedly before walking out of the room, silver doors sliding open.

I nod absently, watching him leave and feeling a weird sense of d�j� vu. I hurry after him a moment later, not wanting to stay at the Shop any longer than necessary, especially after what happened.

It�s when we�re well away, moving in a random but trained pattern to pick out potential shadows, that Ali asks the obvious question.

�What the hell happened?�

�The Council�or the Administrator side of the Council, or the Inner Council, or whoever it is�gave me an address.�

�And it made you bleed?�

�Yes. I�m pretty sure it�s not just any address.�

�Then what is it, boy-o? I�m not here to play twenty questions, you know.�

I work my jaw, getting some saliva back into my mouth. Even thinking it dried my mouth, and I�m not particularly happy with the idea of thinking it out loud. And yes, it�s weird to want to be able to say the words, even when you�re thinking it. And I could suppress such actions, but why bother? It�s small things like that that help me stay human.

I hope.

�If I�m not wrong, it�s a System programming station.�

There�s a long, long silence after that as Ali works through the implications. It�s particularly concerning, since even though we�ve had a hint of them before, we�ve never seen hide nor hair of them. Not even when we�ve gone poking among the planets we helped reconquer.

�Well, that�s not worrying at all.�

***

Meeting with the rest of the group at our residence comes soon after. The group finds me eating, having ordered a large meal to assuage my hunger and my restlessness. The overly large dining room is filled with takeout boxes, each of them individually heated to keep the meats, pastas, vegetables, roasts, and other forms of sustenance warm. There�s even a gooey sludge that looks like slime and tastes like liquid sunshine.

I�m wrangling a drumstick whose bone is made of crystals and metals, the meat tearing off in strips with each bite, when they walk in. I take one look at Harry�s more expressive face and kick out a chair.

�Didn�t go well, eh?� I say.

�It could have gone better,� Harry admits, catching the chair�s back. He spins it around and sits, flopping down to stare at the food.

Mikito snorts as she takes her own seat, pulling the Galactic equivalent of fried rice over to her side of the table, along with a shallow and large bowl. She ladles in the carbs while she explains.

�Katherine ran the numbers. Has been running the numbers. Even with the Duchess�s help, she doesn�t think we have enough to stop the vote.� Mikito side-eyes Harry before she adds, �She thinks at least half of those we have done work for aren�t going to come through with their side.�

�Even with the System contracts?� I snarl.

�Even with,� Mikito says.

�Goblin shit,� Ali says. He�s in his full-size mode and visible since he�s helping himself to food that he doesn�t need to eat. But he likes the taste and who am I to say no? �Is there no more honor among politicians?�

�You�re not serious, are you?� Harry sighs. �Fun fact. It seems that for high-Level Politicians, Diplomats, and the like, they have Skills that mitigate the effect of broken System contracts and oaths.�

�What!?!� I say.

�Yeah, surprised us too.� Harry shook his head. �Katherine forgot to tell us because she�s gotten used to it. Wouldn�t matter anyway. It isn�t as if we know who�s going to break their word until, well��

�They do.�

�Exactly.� Mikito spears a shrimp, chewing the deep-fried, battered goodness.

We fall silent for a bit, each of us following her example and eating a little more.

�So, you�ve heard about what the Duchess did?� I ask.

�Yes. Which is why her wanting to meet you was surprising,� Harry says. �She�s extracted quite her pound of flesh from Earth.�

I grunt, not surprised. It�s not as if they all don�t have us over the barrel. But� �She wanted to know why they�re after us. Me.�

�Told you,� Mikito says to Harry.

He shrugs. �I was just offering other options. But I did say that was most likely.�

�So?� Mikito says to me.

�So what?�

�Did you tell her?�

�Not immediately,� I say. �I promised I would if she came through on her end.�

�Big promise,� Harry says. �You think it�s a smart thing to let her in on it?�

I shrug. There�s the obvious conclusion that if the Council really doesn�t like what�s going on, they�ll end her, my friends, and anyone they even think I provided the information to. But� �She�s a big girl.�

Harry shrugs, seeming sufficiently settled. I guess he�s used to seeing adults throw themselves into seemingly dumb situations. Taking risks that others would decline because that�s just the way it goes. At a certain point, you have to accept that risk is part and parcel of the job description and stop worrying about it.

�You didn�t tell us what they thought of John�s brilliant plan,� Ali says, sipping on a drink-cum-meal via a bendy straw that injects a portion of the meal�s taste as it passes through.

�Katherine wasn�t thrilled,� Mikito says. �But she�ll take it to Rob.�

�And he�ll release the information?� When they look up, I clarify, �If he decides to do it.�

Mikito shrugs.

I frown. �He shouldn�t. He should be using� well, a patsy.�

�Us, you mean,� Harry says.

�Well, you.� I grin at the reporter and he rolls his eyes. But I�m surprised to note there�s a level of uncertainty in there too. �Problem?�

�This isn�t breaking just any story. This isn�t even news reporting, not really. It�s weaponized information,� Harry says. The man has a very large slab of meat, still raw and bloody, sitting on his plate, being delicately sliced with knife and fork. Next to it, carefully set aside, is a small, colorful handful of greens�well, yellows and purples. �I�m not comfortable with the idea of using the news like that.�

Huh. I would have thought it was the target being painted on his back. Then again, Harry�s always been a little more moral than smart. �Fair enough. Doesn�t sound like he�s going to use us anyway.�

�He probably has others,� Ali says.

When we look at him, the Spirit shrugs, having traded for another soupy dish which he uses a tureen spoon on. Small, floating chunks of meat that still squirm and reach can be seen in the soup as he pops the entire, so-cold-it�s-smoking ladle into his mouth.

We aren�t the only players in the Galactic scene these days. And as a World Ruler, Rob has his own contacts. Maybe he uses a group that does things like this, or maybe he uses another human team. Or maybe, just maybe, I�m overthinking things.

But for now, there�s not a lot we can do but wait. Which, I�m finding, is an extremely uncomfortable place to be in.

We sit, we eat, and we do that in silence. When the meal is nearly done, when we�ve cleared the majority of the plates and another of my doppelgangers has died, Ali speaks up.

�You going to tell them?�

I glare at the Spirit, angry he�s pushed me to speak when I would prefer to be silent. At least for a little while more. But the threads of the doppelgangers in my mind, the missing one weighs upon me. Telling me that what we�re outnumbered, outplayed, and no matter how much we hide, what we�ve done, all our efforts are worthless. They know we�re here.

�The Council. Or the Administrators at least. They�ve left me a message,� I said. �An address.�

My words cause a stir, one that has Harry and Mikito shifting uncomfortably and offering me suspicious looks. I can only offer a half-shrug in apology for the length of time I�ve taken to speak.

�You going?� Mikito says.

I nod.

�When?�

�You�re not coming,� I say.

�I�m not letting you go alone, you bakayaro!�

I shake my head again. �It�s not your call. Where I�m going� you can�t enter.�

She frowns before shifting tactics. �Then I�ll go as far as I can.�

�Mikito��

She crosses her arms, daring me to push it further. I meet her stubborn gaze, and I find myself at another crossroads. One of trust. Because I could sneak out, but loyalty, trust, belief� it�s a double-edged weapon. What is given must be returned, or one day, the well will run dry.

�Fine.� I turn to Harry, who snorts.

�I�d love to, but I think I�ll get this news later.� Harry chuckles ruefully at my incredulous look. �The juicy bit is in the room, and if I can�t get in, I don�t think it matters if I get the news five minutes or five hours later. And you�re probably also going to want me on the outside as insurance, no?�

I half-shrug. In truth, I�d considered it, but I wasn�t going to presume. Asking him to release what I know, to cover my bases, to let the galaxy know, it�s more than presumptuous.

�I thought so,� Harry says. �How many days do I have to set up the news release?�

�Eleven hours, four minutes, and thirteen seconds.�

�Well, isn�t that accurate,� Harry drawls, but I see the worry in his eyes.

And I get it. Because the countdown in my vision, the one that has refused to disappear ever since I received the address and invitation, continues to tick ever so slowly.

Down.

Chapter 16

An empty alleyway, shrouded in the shadows of the buildings that loom above it and bereft of light even from the main streets. In the middle of the night, the dark passageway offers no illumination but for the single, hovering light spell I sent ahead of us. Unlike a pre-System human alleyway, there�s no detritus on the ground, no broken asphalt or concrete or scrawled graffiti from neglect. In this place, there�s not enough traffic for sapients to lay their mark upon the alley before the System cleanses it.

We�re in the third ring, close enough to the center that there are actual dead spaces like this. In the outer rings, empty alleyways like this would be impossible, as every scrap of land is used, even by the homeless.

�This it?� Mikito sounds doubtful, even though she�s seen the overhead imagery from the drone we deployed ahead of us and its conjured map.

�Yeah.�

I tilt my head, watching the Mana flows, the way it interacts with the environment. Something weird is going on, but I can�t figure it out. In the end, I dismiss the matter. Not because I don�t want to know, but because if I tried to work out every strangeness in Mana flows I encountered, I�d never take more than a dozen steps.

Mana moves as it will, and sometimes, System Mana and unaspected Mana conflict, almost as if they�re fighting one another. Other times, they flow past one another without an issue, mingling. And sometimes, one or the other just subsumes the other entirely. There are even a few studies�2,413�that have delved into the matter with the leading theory�

�Boy-o�� Ali coughs.

I blink, shake my head, and pull my mind back to the present. I�m less prone to side-thoughts now that the damn library is being processed by my new Class, but it still happens, especially when I�m a little nervous.

�Sorry.� I shake my head. �Now, remember, just watch. Stay hidden, if you can. If things go to hell��

Mikito snorts.

I chuckle ruefully but step into the alleyway, then stop. I turn to her and touch the side of my bracelet, pushing the Skill over us to hide our conversation as I continue. �About the three stooges��

�Musketeers,� Mikito says.

�That make you D�Artagnan?� I raise an eyebrow. Mikito shrugs, and I push past the irrelevant question. �Any word?�

�Yes. They�re good. They are on it,� Mikito murmurs. She looks around and shakes her head. �I�m still a little uncomfortable with using them.�

�It�s safer than being with us,� I point out.

Mikito nods, smoothing out her face and shoving me in the shoulder to get me moving. I sketch a bow, dropping the topic, and walk away. I watch the little dot on my minimap grow closer, the dot located almost two-thirds of the way down the empty alley.

Each step I take seems to take forever. There�s a slow building discomfort that scratches at the back of my throat, clenches my guts. I cough, clear my throat, clench and unclench my fist as I walk. Ali beside me keeps flipping between his TV channels, going from reality TV show to reality TV show, before finding a musical.

�Something�� I frown. I poke at my resistances mentally, testing the borders of the System-generated defenses. I find nothing, but my footsteps have begun to drag, each movement slower than the other. �Something�s wrong.�

Ali frowns, then he slowly stops spinning. He opens his mouth then shuts it, notification windows appearing then disappearing, flicking on and off. He struggles, then suddenly, just up and disappears.

Banished.

My sword appears in my hand and I turn around slowly, searching for the threat. For what banished him. Long minutes pass, where I have to fend off a worried ping from Mikito and the growing dread. But nothing happens.

And I find myself growing angry. Angry at whatever it is that�s affecting me, that�s slipping past the defenses the System has put in place. That has buffered my will and driven me on.

That has made me, me.

I�m angry, and because I�m me, instead of turning away, instead of running, I turn back. I walk farther in, shoving my anger at the damn feeling, at the cloying tendrils of fear that wrap around my heart and guts that try to push me away. Anger unleashed, the dread and fear, the need to depart, shrivels before me.

Step after step, I make my way inward, the empty alleyway a void of dark thoughts and darker threats. I push forward with each step before the tension snaps like a rubber band at my latest step.

I stagger as the weight, the pressure disappears. Only to find myself nearly where the location given to me should be. The place where I am to meet the Council. Or whoever it is I�m to meet.

�A thousand and one demons,� I snarl, realization arriving belatedly.

Of course this feeling bypassed the System. The gods damned Administrators are in play here. The weirdness in Mana, the Skills not working. It�s their way of hiding themselves. Which means�

I eye the empty space before me, the innocuous piece of land that marks the meeting spot. There�s nothing there, nothing I can see, nothing I can sense even when I push my Mana Sense forward. It�s empty.

Utterly empty.

�Well, let�s just hope I�m not a frog looking up the well.� Two quick steps, and I�m there.

Then.

Light.

***

When my sight resolves again, I�ve taken three steps to the side, crouched low with my sword held before me and trying to activate Soul Shield. Surprisingly, it doesn�t activate, which has me worried. Almost as much as my blindness.

But System healing is powerful, and the teleportation�and it was a teleportation�wasn�t meant to blind me, just shift me. To this place. A simple room filled with hanging notification windows with System script scrolling across, multiple bar and line graphs, and what my many years as an IT worker can tell immediately is a ticketing board with colored priority task lists.

My stomach falls, my breathing hitches, and I push�and fail to activate�Blade Strike. Just for a second, before I get hold of myself. Flashbacks are bad, and it�s surprising that my short period working at an IT help desk can be more scarring than getting eaten by a giant monster.

�So. You really are on Irvina,� a voice cuts through my subsiding panic, dragging my attention to it.

I turn my head from side to side, taking in the room and the simple steel-grey mezzanine floor without a railing, the glowing blue notification windows that dominate the walls before turning to the only figure within.

He stands before me, a humanoid corvid creature with black feathers, a long beak, and large, pupil-filled eyes that focus upon every motion of mine. Wings jut from his back, a contrast to the taloned fingers that he keeps crossed before me. As for clothing, he�s dressed in belts, and a loin cloth and nothing more.

My eyes narrow further when I see his Status.

Sefan ared Lebek�jjas (Senior Administrator Level 14)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

Conditions: ???

�Who are you?� I push once more at my identification Skill and find it doesn�t activate further. Another push and System Edit kicks in, showing me that my entire series of Skill uses are being blocked. An Administrative block.

What the hell?

�If you read your location notification, you�ll understand,� Sefan says.

I realize I swore out loud, but while keeping an eye on him, I call forth the System location notification as he suggested.

You have entered Administrative Center 194-8-15 (Security Access Level 3)

Warning! No violence may be initiated in Administrative Centers. All Skills (outside of Administrative Skills) and System-assisted Spells are blocked. This includes all enchanted items and System-registered technological aids.

Effects: +2 Skill Ranks in System Edit Skills, +200% increase in Mana Sense skill, access to Level 3+ System Administrator Quests, access to Administrator Network (temporary)

Congratulations Junior Administrator!

You have accessed an Administrative Center for the first time! You have gained access to the System Administrator Quest notice board and the Administrator Network (temporary localized basis)

Level Up! +1 Junior Administrator Level

I stare at the notifications before coming back to myself. I realize that Sefan�s still making no move to bother me. In fact, his eyes are no longer even focused on me, darting from side to side as he reads notification windows, talons twitching in small motions as he controls the data.

Thus far, if this was a trap, they�ve missed multiple opportunities to close the jaws of it. And really, I can only hope it�s not a trap. If it is, I walked in here knowing it could be. Without answers, I�m not leaving. And this is my first chance for true answers.

I dive into the notifications, pulling up the System Administrator Quest board. And then I have to quell my rising panic when I realize it�s the very same task list I spotted on arrival.

�Cut me apart and boil me in the thousand hells. You have got to be fucking joking with me.� When the corvid stares at me, I growl. �The damn System Administrator Quest board is an IT help desk!�

�Well, yes. We are System Administrators.� Sefan�s voice is slightly musical, a little clicky�as if the top of his tongue keeps hitting the roof of his mouth at the most inopportune time. That his tongue is sharp and angular and perhaps not used to Galactic might be the reason for that. �We fix the System, when necessary.�

I twitch. The first ticket I try to touch�one that�s glowing green�sends a painful jolt back at me. I stagger, feeling my nerves burn as the ticket rejects my choice.

�Why would you choose one you are barred from?� Sefan says.

�It�s green. Green is go!�

�No. Green is barred. You are black.� Sefan shakes his head. �Everyone civilized knows that.�

I hear the unsaid �barbarian,� but I leave it alone. Even if, I know, there�s no such information in any of the Galactic civilization packs I�ve purchased.

I�m a little hesitant to touch the ticketing board again, but I have to know. So, mentally reaching out, I touch a black ticket. And get a notification.

There�s Something Wrong in Tumiaaq (Status Level 3)

Experience and Mana exchange is imbalanced in Tumiaaq. Conflict caused by inclusion of dungeon 132.8, revision 511581251267844.881.52, and the presence of the Skills Experience Tap for the Lazy and 5,565 Minutes Used Properly.

Do you wish to take this quest? (Y/N)

I hit the No, skipping out of the mental notification, and check a few more. They�re all the same, all coding issues where Mana, experience, Levels, Skills, or attributes are messed up. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. A dungeon spawning too fast. A building not fixing itself, instead spewing out System Mana as it attempts to handle a persistent enchanted item. A warp engine with a design error that churns through unaffiliated Mana while also draining System Mana at the same time.

Error after error after error. I watch as some of the notifications disappear and others pop up, replacing them. The ones that don�t change, the ones that sit there, are the ones coded green. They just sit, unmoving.

Untouched?

I purse my lips, but noise from the corvid makes me glance at the unspeaking Administrator. I shift my sight away from him and check the Administrator Network. Only to find myself less than impressed.

�I�m blocked from everything but the local node,� I say.

Silence greets my words. I start to speak but notice his clawed fingers flicking in routine. I shut my mouth, watching silently as I test the edges of this Administrative block with my System Edit Skill. It doesn�t take me long to feel how hard, how rigid it is.

If it can be bypassed, it won�t be by me.

�You are blocked because you are but a Junior Administrator,� Sefan says finally, his fingers stilling. At the same time, I see a green ticket disappear. �An unauthorized Junior Administrator.�

�And here we get to it. So will it be door T or B?�

�What?� Sefan says.

�Threats or bribery?�

Sefan lets out a little screeching noise. The grip on my sword tightens and the tip bobs up and down under my grip. I try for Ali, hoping I can get an ally, and find the very same block in place. Not that it matters to the corvid who ignores my caution as it continues to screech. It takes me a bit to realize he�s laughing.

�You are blunt as a warhammer to the beak.� Sefan cackles. �Do you humans not know subtlety? Grace?�

�I�m North American. Our version of subtlety is checking if you�re fine after we kick your ass,� I say.

�And you think you can �kick my ass�?� Sefan cocks his head. Down, down, down until he reaches his shoulder, his head tilted until it goes past the edge of his shoulders. My neck hurts just looking at him.

�I�ll give it the good old college try.� And hope that the question marks are due to our location and not the fact that he�s a Legendary. Because otherwise, this will be an incredibly fast fight. And not in a good way.

�College. How quaint,� Sefan says. �But you have gained knowledge you should not. Endangered an order you should not. You and those Corrupt Questors continue to be a pain in our order.�

�Then why not just kill us all?�

�Because we occasionally get something useful.� This voice is high-pitched, female. It�s accent is unnatural and stilted, a Latin American one of some sort. I never did visit before the apocalypse.

I jump, looking up at where the voice comes from and get a spideresque nightmare. It�s a reminder of Xev, my old mechanic. The creature is similar to her in the vaguest sense that a house spider compares to an invisible tarantula. Because this one, above, is invisible except for the barest outlines. It�s not even a Skill, just its natural ability to play chameleon.

Wex (Senior Administrator Level 17)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

Conditions: ???

�Who the hell are you?� I back away, only to stop when I realize that Wex is moving too, making sure to hover right above me. I growl, but if my displeasure makes any difference to the spider, there�s absolutely no indication.

�You may call me Wex. Senior Administrator.� The bulbous head, with its multi-faceted eyes, turns slowly. Then, disturbingly enough, it conjures a bundle wrapped in spider-silk and sinks its jaw into it. A little of the liquiefied remains drips out from where its fangs pierce the bundle, missing me by a foot or so.

I keep my face neutral at the display, just letting my lip curl up a little. Intimidation. Petty intimidation.

I turn over its words, seeking understanding. If there�s an argument about how useful I can be, that explains why I�m not dead. I wonder how often Administrators are made, what the usual methods are of creating such individuals. It�s a Hidden Class, but is it one you could get from just knowing that you can alter the System? Certainly a level of mastery over Mana Sense is required. But is there more? I would guess so, or else there�d be a lot more and it would be a less well-kept secret.

If there is more, if it�s hard to make Administrators, maybe I have more leverage than I think I do.

�Something useful, you say.� Yeah, fine. I�m as blunt as a virgin asking for his first kiss.

�But I fear there�s nothing useful in this one,� Sefan says. �He�s a bog-standard Administrator. One with problematic connections and an even more problematic attitude.�

I bite my lip on my instant retort, keeping an eye on Wex above. I�m getting the idea that these two are the representatives of opposing viewpoints. And Sefan is never going to warm up to me. So�

The spider makes the bundle disappear back into its inventory before it answers. That the bundle is half the size, I try not to note. �We�ve yet to see what he can do. Or why the System chose him.�

�The System?� I say, only to see Wex nod a little.

So. That�s interesting. A notification window blooms before me, the ticketing system appearing before my eyes.

�Enough talk. Let us see then. Or be done with this,� Sefan says.

I could ask what they want to see, but I�m not that dumb. And since what they want from me is what my own curiosity is killing me to explore, I take to it with gusto.

First, I plant my feet apart, making sure I�m well balanced. Then I shift the window to the main focus area before I pop out tickets. I toss them to the side of me, leaving them hanging in mid-air without accepting, without closing them.

I do that for a half dozen before I stop, then I probe the connection between the ticketing window and me. I look for more information, more details that can be brought forth. To little surprise, there�s more information that could be added to each ticket.

The stream of information, the flow of Mana it denotes, was hidden by default. I delve into the view, looking for details, looking for what I need. Previous administrator comments�added. Number of times tickets have been accessed�added. Security access requirements�added. Time in queue�added.

I customize my interface, pulling more information and discarding others. I automatically filter away anything I don�t have access to. Then I filter out anything that requires significant access to multiple databases. I filter by previous comments by administrators, putting those at the bottom of the list. And then filter for new tickets that haven�t been accessed.

All of it to find work that I�m more likely to do well. I can�t guarantee that it�ll work, but it�s better than accessing tickets where previous Administrators with more experience have started and left unfinished.

Maybe it�s not what they�re looking for. Maybe they want someone brilliant and gifted, who�ll tackle the hardest jobs and somehow, miraculously, do what others can�t. But those kinds of individuals only exist in movies and TV shows. And sometimes, rarely, in really life. For the rest of us mere mortals, who have to wade through mud when it pours, who have to learn to dance by taking classes or put on pants one leg at a time, we�ve got to start easy.

And work our way up.

The tickets I�ve opened help with that. I pull data from them, digging into details before I accept anything. I get more information, more columns to show me what I need. The System can show more than I could begin to guess. Number of databases accessed. Number of Classes involved. Number of individuals involved. Sphere of effect. Amount of Mana involved or stored within the Class, or Skills, or enchantments, or whatever else is being affected.

I sort and adjust, filtering again and again. All the while, the pair of Senior Administrators watch me, saying nothing and letting me do what I want. The tickets before me change, adjusting constantly as they update with new information.

And at some point, I�m done. There�s no more delaying. Nothing else to stop me from picking something. I draw a deep breath and I find my hands trembling.

Suppressed fear or excitement? I�m not sure. But it doesn�t matter, because it�s�

Time.

***

Damage Calculation for Class Skill Open Ocean is Incorrect

Calculations when interacting with the Skills River Flows and the Greater Depths as well as during formula calculation of resistances to fire and elemental ice damage; damage calculations are providing x83-variance in Mana.

The first ticket seems simple. It�s an edge case, happened twice in all the time it�s been in play. It�s a relatively urgent ticket though, because an individual is running this particular underwater ice dungeon. Once he leaves, it probably won�t matter ever again.

But it still needs fixing.

System Mana is bleeding from the bad calculations as the System compensates for the bad data with raw power. System Mana fixes issues, paves over the problems so that those affected don�t see what�s happening, don�t realize there�s a problem�for the most part. But it costs. Costs more than it�s worth for the System to keep the Skill and individuals alive.

So we fix it.

Administrators, that is. The information flows through me, into me, an answer to a question I didn�t know I was asking. I fix the calculations, working by instinct, using Intelligence attributes in ways I never knew it could be used, Wisdom and intuition when raw processing power is insufficient. I twist the Mana strings, encode the new formula, the exceptions, and send back the results.

There�s a hum, almost a feeling of gratitude when the answer is accepted. I feel experience trickle into my body, going straight to my System Administrator role. The ticket closes.

And I grab another.

Regeneration of monsters in Class XIVI dungeons, at the Hamton and Brasmith dungeons compromised.

A simple matter of adjusting Mana flows around Mana lines that the System laid down due to damage from a recent Master Class fight. Stupid Geomancers, with their alteration of the Mana and physical environment. I adjust the flow, increasing it for the normal monsters, reducing it for the Alpha, and put the bleed-off into the nearby river. That�ll make the water slightly more Mana-rich, maybe mutate a few more things in the future. Make an alchemist or two happy.

Another prompt, another agreement. Another rush of experience.

Next ticket.

Attempted access to time displacement technology (5.7s) by the Varia White Institute on Yuhupe Satellite IV.

I dig into the information. It�s interesting�the notification isn�t because the System doesn�t want them to try to go back in time. It doesn�t care. There�s almost a smug sense of guarantee that it won�t work.

No, it�s not that the System doesn�t want them to try. It�s because the attempt itself is the problem, because the drain on System Mana and the subsequent destruction of the materials makes the experiment cost vastly more than what Skill, technological processing, and regeneration the individuals involved�even peripherally�have put into the System.

It�s inefficient.

I get the database, the full cost and variables. And I have to balance it all out. It�s part accounting, part manufacturing process management, and part Administrative Skill adjustment as I dig into all of the data. I make adjustments on the backend, not on the System itself. But there are so many variables that we never see�especially when creating�that it�s not easy to balance it all.

It�s not an easy ticket, because I can�t just make the artifacts they create more expensive. Otherwise, they�d get around it by creating something similar. And I can�t penalize their entire Skill because then it�d penalize everyone else. Nor can I do it on an individual level or else our adjustments would be noted.

My work slows down then as the library, the Questors� library, assaults me. It floods me with information about times when an Administrator, or perhaps even the System, did a bad job. It gives me information, guesses, formulas that the Questors have used to understand what is going on.

Information.

I admit, I crib from the notes. I make alterations, twist the strings of Mana that are the program codes that tell the world how to work. I get to fixing, smoothing out the data, applying an older solution with some minor adjustments.

Next ticket.

Ares Gravitic Grenade v183.9 interaction with Mana-infused Dragon Silver�Overdrawn

Formula. Math. Calculation. Adjustment.

Next ticket.

Rhapsody of the Siren current degradation too slow

Just over two dozen individuals, all of them having found this once abandoned Class. Now they�re back and creating a� cult? Groupie group? I�m not even sure. It�s a problem, especially with the way they�re exploiting the Rhapsody. I dig into it, and once again the library comes to my aid. Research studies, Skill lists, details about mental and musical Skills.

All of it at my fingertips.

I adjust the degradation, add details of how and why and when, make it easy to explain away why it wasn�t noticed before. I give users a built-in resistance. And maybe I overweigh it a little bit so that they get a mental resistance for everything too.

The System rejects and fixes that overplayed hand. Sends back a feeling of� wrongness. The experience I get is less. The final ticket is adjusted by the System before the ticket itself disappears.

And I�m on to the next ticket.

Star 489151x199967y889987z-1 has begun to dim. Mana uptake is at 87% of expectations.

I falter a little when this one comes up. The System deals with suns? Not surprisingly, the library has something to say about that too.

I hesitate at adjusting this, wondering at a System where fixing a star is considered a trivial, low-level Administrative task. But the Senior Administrators are waiting, watching. I feel the weight of their regard even as I unconsciously note that they�re at work too. Coding.

I dive right in, forcing aside doubts.

For what is an enormous project, the code itself is simple. A simple comparison is all that�s required before I see the problem. The Mana equivalent of copy and paste fixes the issue, then I send it over.

Assessment, agreement, and experience.

Next ticket.

There�s always another ticket.

***

�Enough.�

Sefan�s voice pulls me from the fugue I�ve fallen into, grabbing tickets, fixing the problem, and moving on. An unknown period of time has passed, my abnormal Constitution, buoyed by the intense focus my attributes have provided, allowing me to work without interruption.

Multiple tickets are open before me, each of them in the process of being completed. I�ve gone from one ticket to three, search processes and databases open for each of them. At some point, the Administrative equivalent of their data repository was made available and I�ve got multiple windows into that open, allowing me to review and assess code. Adding remarks of my own, like the one I finish leaving as Stefan�s sentence recalls me to the present.

The next time you leave a code recommendation, make sure you check it over first. Otherwise you�ll cause a cascading failure in the third tier of the System database archives. References attached.

Code revision attached.

I finish the updates with a grunt and drop back into reality. I put bookmarks on the tickets, leaving links for reference when I get to them again. But a part of me burns with rage at being interrupted. Do they know how long it takes to get back into the right frame of mind for coding?

Actually, as I eye the pair of Senior Administrators, I realize they probably do. They deal with the System code much like I do. And while the System code is as much poetry and biology as hard programmed lines, the mindset required is the same.

�Seen enough?� I say. When in doubt, go on the offensive.

�You have some skill,� Sefan admits, looking to the side.

I follow his gaze and realize I can see the window he�s looking at. On it are a list of tickets I�ve tackled and a timer beneath it.

258 Class 3 tickets. 4 Class 2 tickets (misclassified).

97.8% code fidelity. Loss of 1.8764k SMU.

Security rating upgraded to Class 2 (Provisional, within Administrative centers only. Pending approval).

14 hours, 38 minutes Administrator Time

�Fourteen hours!� I yelp a little. �Wait. What�s Administrator time?�

�Time within this zone is compressed. Only an hour and a half will have passed when you exit,� Wex says. �A decent number for a first-time delve.�

�Decent?� I raise an eyebrow.

�Decent. I cleared two hundred seventy-five,� Wex says.

�Three hundred fifteen,� Sefan says smugly.

Beyond the radiating pride from Sefan, I don�t see any indication they�re lying. Which makes me a little annoyed. Even if I know I�m not a gifted coder, it�s never nice to have it rubbed in your face. Especially since I was in the flow when they interrupted me.

It�s possible that was for the best though. Even if the flow, the damage, from interacting with this much System Mana is reduced in the Administrative Center, my body burns, aches from being damaged and regenerated continuously.

�However, the System seems pleased with your work,� Wex says. �Few Junior Administrators do as much. Or as cleanly.�

�As cleanly for sure.� Sefan stares at me, as if by just looking, he could dig out my secrets. Maybe outside of the Administrative Center he could, using Skills and psychic abilities, but in here, there�s just my smiling mien.

�Then did I pass?� I smile grimly. �Will you end your actions against Earth?�

�Earth?� Sefan looks puzzled before recollection sparks. He caws again, in shortened amusement. �That matter is already resolved. The vote will be done and another problem dealt with.�

�I don�t see a ticket for it, so it ain�t an Administrator problem,� I say, flicking my hand and refreshing the ticket. �Doesn�t seem to be a problem to me.�

�Not everything is dealt with via the Administrative Center,� Wex says. �Managing the Galactic System requires more than the ability to resolve tickets. Though that is not a matter that Junior Administrators should trouble themselves with.�

�Then again, I�m not your normal inductee, am I?� I say, turning from one to the other. �And that�s the point of why I�m here.�

�Yes.� Sefan�s wings rustle, opening and closing as he stares at me. In the end, he shakes his head to Wex. �He has talent. Whatever he did to get him the Class, it makes him a good technician. But he is too much of a risk. Even now, he taunts us. He will not bow. He will not bend. My vote stands.�

�The Weaver will be unhappy,� Wex states calmly, clicking its mandibles together. But it lowers itself on a thread, getting closer to me.

�Hey now, no need to be hasty. You could try asking before making pronouncements,� I say, edging away.

To my utter lack of surprise, the damn spider-creature has invisible threads strung above, letting it shift sideways too. It just reattaches as necessary. I eye the surroundings, taking in the mezzanine floor, the walls. There�s no exit that I can see. I cast around discreetly for a way out as the corvid stalks toward me. Sefan�s feet click with each step, even as the spider above me moves, watching my every motion.

�We are not hasty.� Sefan�s wings open and a breeze arises.

�We are deliberate.� Wex twitches, and the notification windows collapse, shrouding me in darkness.

�We are inevitable.� Energy talons extend from Sefan�s fingers.

�We are what makes the System work.� Wex rears back, bunching legs as he readies himself.

Together, they finish their creepy villain dialogue. �And you are a bug.�

Chapter 17

I throw myself out of the way well before they finish their words. Sefan is already darting forward, the wings on his back beating as he flies low toward me. Wex above on its invisible threads, barely discernible with its camouflaged skin, spurts out new thread, hoping to catch me.

Skin tears, blood staining the white floor of the Administrative Center. The energy talons Sefan uses don�t burn, leaving my torso wound to dribble red blood, nanowoven battlemesh coming apart as easily as Christmas wrapping paper. As Sefan twists in mid-air, I smell the musky stink of his feathers, hints of heavy spices and clean wind.

A raised sword catches the thread as it splashes around me, allowing me to tear myself away from Wex�s attack. The sudden jerk and change in momentum forces me into a roll, small strands of the spider thread catching at my clothing and tearing free. My sword I dismiss, leaving its thread to flop around uselessly before I recall the clean weapon to hand.

Soulbound seems to mean something more than just plain Skills. That�s good, because I�m at a disadvantage here.

I hunt for an exit, pushing at the System, searching. After a second, a notification flares into my vision, ever so briefly. A door flickers then disappears, forced away by the Senior Administrators.

Distracted, I don�t see Sefan bearing down on me until it�s too late. A sword catches one talon, my free hand grasping his shoulder as he bowls me backward. I fly back under the mezzanine I�ve been angling toward, feeling his talons sink into my body. At least we�re briefly hidden from Wex above.

Taloned claws clench in my stomach, tearing at intestines, slippery innards sliced apart and turned into Silly Putty as the Senior Administrator easily overpowers me. I struggle, but he�s stronger, much, much stronger. Even adjusting the Strength attribute, throwing everything into pure strength does nothing to his grip.

If they had Skills, if I had Skills, this fight would go differently. But we have nothing but our attributes, our skills, and whatever innate abilities we might have given our bodies.

Sefan�s mouth opens in a long screech that makes my ears hurt, my arm tremble. I shift the direction of his other attack, letting his arm slip over my shoulder even as I crash into the wall behind me. My teeth slam shut, blood fills my mouth, and my bones creak in dismay. The wall itself does not give way, Mana construct that it is, but his talon is briefly captured.

I drop down, feeling more of my body tear, rip. But the overly sharp nature of his claws plays against Sefan now, the skin in my torso opened wide. I rip free, screaming in agony. His now-free hand swings down. A sword in the way cuts into his arm a little, stopping the attack as I�m flattened on the floor.

Out of the corner of my eyes, beneath the mezzanine roof, I see Wex creeping over. Its body can barely be seen but for flickers of motion. It�s taking its time, placing its feet carefully as multi-faceted eyes watch as I struggle.

And struggle I am, for Sefan keeps lashing out. I have a single sword that allows me to block his attacks somewhat. But each blow throws me around, crumpling my defense and leaving me bleeding.

Seconds pass, enough time for Wex, with its increased attributes, to near. A kick�a new addition to Sefan�s arsenal�throws me back into the unyielding wall when I attempt to escape. I crack my head again and see stars. My health is halfway down, my torso a gaping wound that attempts to reconstruct itself, but a part of me, the part that is connected to the System, buzzes.

It�s angry, upset over the breaking of its rules. I almost swear I sense a touch of frustration in the connection, but I can�t focus on it. Just my impending doom, as Sefan raises his hand to strike me down.

Time slows as I taste iron, as stars resound and his screech of victory pierces my eardrums. I watch talons, glowing yellow and red with shafts of energy, rise and fall, both oh-so-fast and glacially slow at the same time. I feel my hand, bereft of my sword, rise up to block it. I know it�s wasted effort.

Time slows, and for a few infinite seconds, I have time to think.

Energy.

Force.

Affinity.

Lightning bursts from my raised hand, channeled through it. Electrons are excited, released from their bonds, resistances lowered. The world changes and brightens as my attack strikes Sefan and arcs through his body, grounding in the floor, in the mezzanine roof, in Wex.

I tap into my Elemental Affinity, the connection strong and powerful and not at all gifted by the System. There is no block on it, for it�s not something offered to me by the System but via my connection to Ali at first, then by time and training.

Sefan staggers back, surprised. As is Wex. The attack doesn�t kill. It barely even damages. But it gives me an opening, and with that and with the aid of the System, I push against the block they�ve set up. The door appears, open, against the wall I lean on. Behind me.

I fall through it, still unleashing uncontrolled energy. When Sefan and Wex move to follow, I take away their grip, the friction between them and the floor. It bothers them for a second as they fail to find purchase on the floor, the ceiling. They slip, fall, and reassert their own control of reality through the System.

Then I�m through, the door slamming shut as I let their block reassert itself.

I tumble to the ground in the same alleyway, bleeding, bruised, broken. Blood pools around my torso, ropes of torn intestine falling out, shredded clothing by my side. I have multiple broken bones, a shattered collarbone.

I�m hurt and in pain. But I�m alive.

I stagger to my feet, feeling my Skills reassert themselves. As Mikito rushes to aid me, I grin predatorily at the empty spot.

�Inevitable, my ass.�

***

My moment of arrogant challenge dissipates as fast as the blood escaping from wounds. I pull myself together, using healing potions to aid the System that struggles to heal me. I drop a bunch of mines, shield barriers, and other friendly greetings in front of the door as I stagger toward Mikito. She�s stopped, a deep frown on her face as she deals with the Administrative injunction to enter the alleyway.

�Sloppy code�� I mutter, watching as Mikito grows more and more frustrated. She struggles forward, pushing against the enchantment even through the lack of notifications. �Don�t. I�m coming.�

She jerks a nod, relief evident on her face. Rather than worry about the state I�m in, she conjures a beam rifle and points it behind me in support while I stumble to her. Injuries that should cripple me seem to be healing faster than normal. I could poke at it but getting away is more important.

Yet, nothing happens. Not when I get to Mikito. Not when we retreat, while I plaster myself with healing spells and wrap a cloak around my torn clothing. Not even when we get on a nearby private aircar to be chauffeured away.

Long, tense minutes pass as we evade pursuit. We change cars and transportation methods, even going so far as to pay for a short-range teleport out of the city.

Once we�re away from civilization�or the closest Irvina equivalent�we conduct short-range hops. I push past the Dimension Locks on the planet, overriding it with my System Edit Skill.

We run and keep running until we�re in the middle of an ocean, floating in the middle of the air. Alone, with the ability to see potential problems coming from every angle. Paranoia wanes, and I find my hands trembling uncontrollably while the sour taste of acid floats in the back of my mouth.

�What happened?� Mikito says, eyeing me with caution.

�Trap.� When she grunts, I continue. �A pair of Administrators were within.� I shudder, remembering their visages, the power they wielded. �They had to be high Heroics. Maybe Legendarys.�

�How are you alive?� Mikito asks.

I don�t answer the insulting question, not immediately. I call forth Ali, who pops into being, arms crossed. He spins around, taking in the world, then relaxes. Only to tense again when he sees my face. I�m clean now, all the blood gone, but the shredded remnants of my clothing are still on me.

�What the hell happened?� Ali says.

�Trap,� Mikito replies.

�Duh! But why�s boy-o looking like he�s been told he�s got a kid? And what are all these notifi�� Ali shuts up as his eyes glaze over, data streaming before him. He reads and ignores us, catching up in a more direct manner.

�They didn�t have access to Skills. None of us did.� I touch my side where I can still feel the sensations of my body being torn apart. �And they weren�t taking it seriously. Didn�t think I could do anything.�

Mikito purses her lips. �Learn anything useful?�

�A lot. But most importantly�� I draw a deep breath and let it out. �They�ve made up their minds. I don�t think they�re going to hold off hunting for us. Not anymore.�

Mikito�s eyes widen and I nod. She shivers, but I smile. A hand is raised and a book recalled. I weigh it in my hands, feeling the power within as I let the book fall open. A Skill, harnessed within, waits to be unleashed. And I let it.

The book rushes into my mind, seeking information, knowledge. I offer it what I can, everything I just learned about Skills, Administrators and Administrative Centers. How the System works, how its encoded.

With a snap, the book closes. I hold it for a second more, Mikito side-eying me and the leather-bound, parchment-based weapon of mass destruction and knowledge. Then I open my hand, letting the book free. Light swallows the book as it shrinks, twisting in on itself before it disappears.

Returned.

�John?� Mikito asks quietly, and I smile grimly.

�Time to pull out all the guns.� I draw a deep breath. �Tell Katherine, Rob. They�re not going to stop pushing Earth, no matter what we do. Best to be ready.�

She nods jerkily, and the wind picks up over the open ocean, splashing us with water. As dark storm clouds roll in, we get to work.

If chaos, if death and destruction are all they�re searching for, then we�ll give it to them. In spades.

***

The Questors get moving. Corrupt Questors or orthodox, this information gets disseminated. Not the actual information about my Class�not yet. But that there might be more to the System, to the Quest? Definitely. The new information, hints and real data are thrown into void space to chum the waters.

Long dormant conversations about the kind of world we live in, the nature of the System and our reality rise once more. News articles appear, reporters and investigative journalists having long-held questions answered. Reports about the movements of the Council, the things they�ve done in the past�and are doing now�are published all across the galaxy.

Secrets are revealed. From the residence of Legendarys who value their privacy to share holdings in private companies, forcing runs on shares and the sudden questioning of certain contracts. Other companies and guilds, who have long alluded to powerful backers, are revealed as frauds, their share prices dropping. Guilds are destroyed, headquarters gutted.

Civil order becomes discivil. Races whose worlds were stolen, their lands taken, question the validity of the actions taken against them, their place in society. The line between what the System�an uncaring, unfeeling, remote program�and the Galactic Council�supposedly a body to serve all sapients�is questioned once more.

Libraries of hidden knowledge, of Classes and Titles that the Questors have accumulated suddenly appear in public forums. Secret Skills, used to control and hamper competitors, other individuals, other groups, become known.

Assassins and bounty hunters, searching for their targets, for weaknesses to exploit, find that once closely held information is now freely available. Vengeance seekers looking for those to blame, looking for a path forward find their ways illuminated.

The Questors make their move, and the galaxy is thrown into chaos. Because while the Questors might not be able to wield a sword, the weapon they hold�the trove of knowledge they have access to�is as dangerous, if not more, to the society they live within. They but lacked the will to use it. Now, they act. A truth dangled before them, a hint whispering through the halls.

That there are not one but two individuals who have reached ninety percent in the Quest. That the Quest is possible to complete, perhaps. That information, that final step, if asked for carefully, if desired, might be available. For those who dare.

Questors act, and the Head Librarians meet. And what they might make of my little book, I know not. Because I�ve got my own problems.

***

They find us a day later. Mikito, Ali, and me. The attack tears the sky apart, boiling water, cooking the jelly-like monster we�ve been attempting to reel in and creating gale force winds that toss us aside. Servos whine in the Hod, my power armor struggling to keep me aloft. Engines shriek and scream as I stabilize myself, as the sky lights up again.

Blink Step takes me out of the way while Mikito tanks another blast, her conjured horse riding out of the beam of light with her on it. Ghostly armor forms as she rides through the stabbing beams of light, joining me as we run. Ali reforms beside me, attaching himself to the Hod as he floats on his back, staring at the sky. As we keep running, he bends light itself, making the next strike miss us by miles.

�Where is he?� I snarl, searching my minimap for our attacker and finding nothing.

�Out of sight. This is a Heroic artillery Skill,� Ali says. �Untargeted�sort of�but wide ranging. Keep running, we�ll get out of range soon enough.�

I cast Soul Shield on myself and Mikito before I reach out to my doppelgangers, hoping they�re doing okay. I could call another now, but I get the feeling I�m going to need all my Mana. Anyway, their job hasn�t changed. Keep trying to get us more seats, and failing that, try not to get killed and waste my Mana.

The air heats up around us, waterspouts attempting to form from the overheated air and failing as even more beams crash down. Occasionally, I see the edges of the holes that the attacks create, deep abysses of boiled water and injured aquatic creatures before the ocean rushes back in.

�Underwater?� I send to Mikito over party chat.

Rather than answer me, she dives. Maybe it�ll help, maybe it won�t, but we don�t have a lot of options, so we go down. Deep into the water, feeling the liquid press upon us, slowing us as we kick forward.

Until I reach outward with my affinity and take away the friction. We speed up, faster than ever before, angling deeper and away. The beams continue to attack us, but they�re less coordinated, the water and Ali bending them, the lack of direct sight disallowing direct adjustments. It�s easy to tell when Artillery boy switches methods to watch us, since more of the attacks land.

Damaging or not, the Hod and my Soul Shield hold up, aided by the dispersed level of the attacks. We run, and we keep running, health and Mana see-sawing as the artillery attacks keep landing.

As we escape the edge of the Skill, the next attack comes. The Sea Serpent rises from the depth, swallowing Mikito on her horse entirely, rows of teeth chomping down and masticating the woman and her ride. Dark green-blue scales swirl, its swimming form smacking me in the side and sending me away as I catch sight of its Status.

Ancient Sea Serpent (Level 283)

HP: 28155/28387*

MP: 1253/1253*

Conditions: Controlled, Heroic Passive Pet Buffs (Partial)�increased Mana regeneration, Health regeneration, damage resistance and damage penetration. Water Mana Damage.

�Mikito!� I throw a couple of Blade Strikes, holding off on my other Skills, uncertain of where exactly the Samurai is. I know she�s alive�her health still stands. But my Skills would damage her too if I miss, and the kilometer-long body obscures her location. �I hate water!�

It was the right option to go down, to fight where we believed they�d have fewer options, fewer civilians to harm. But less is not nothing�

The Sea Serpent turns toward me, mouth opening. I expect it to swim toward me, and it does. But deep within its mouth, a glow forms, an attack beginning.

A hand shifts and I toss out grenades. Absolute-zero cold grenades and mines trigger as they float away, forming shards of ice between us. The mini-glacier is created within seconds, even as I boost back and aside.

The Serpent�s attacks tear away my protection, tossing me around as it shatters the Hod�s security shield and strains my own. I snarl, relayering Soul Shield, but I�m surprised as the blast continues to veer away. The Serpent struggles, twisting and curling in paroxysms of pain.

Then from its belly, a third of the way down, a shining light. A curved, illuminated blade pokes out, blood flowing into the edge of the weapon as it tears a way out for its wielder. Samurai and horse exit before turning around and driving downward. Hitoshi�s blade end plunges into the body, unzipping the Serpent.

Before I can exult, the artillery beams from before reappear. I�m tossed aside as the waters boil.

�Time to go!� I shout as I regain control.

Mikito pulls away, the Serpent left to fall to the ground, dying or dead.

And we�re running.

Running and wondering when the big boys will arrive.

***

One day. They take an entire day to harass and attack us. It�s not just the Heroic artillery attacker and the Beast King in play but a trio of Master Class mages who lob attacks at us, well outside of our range. Using ritual spells, Skills, and beast pests to keep Mikito and I running, they never get close enough that I can hurt them. We cross the ocean, flying, fighting, and dodging, transiting between air and water from moment to moment.

We get a short break when I contact the Questors, who manage to pull the Heroic artillery attacker away by dropping a bomb on his location. It won�t do much to the actual Heroic himself, but it does destroy his connection to the satellites above Mikito and me. A series of sabotages sent the remainder satellites spinning away at the same time, repositioned or destroyed.

And while he went chasing off after the Corrupt Questors and System Watchers who are busy playing hide and seek, their respective Skills and enchantments making them perfect to play saboteurs, the rest of the Irvina military takes over the job.

We get swarmed a couple of times by Galactic military personnel, the equivalent of planetary security. They don�t last long, not when I can throw Judgment of All at the group. I was tempted to use my System Edit to kill the Heroic artillery and Beast King, but I held off, concern about potential feedback affects, about who they have waiting in the wings, holding back my ire.

Twice, the Council�s army try swarming us. Twice, I rack up kills without our enemies doing much to us.

After that, it�s summoned monsters, drones, and long-range attacks over the horizon. We�re harassed and attacked constantly, the damage accumulating to the point that I give up on the Hod, storing it away so that it can regenerate while I tank the damage.

Mikito suffers the worst from it, and I add Two for One at opportune moments to share her pain. Luckily, her Ghost Armor and higher mobility keeps her from taking the brunt of the attacks. But it doesn�t stop all of it, and she lacks the sheer number of resistances I have. She gets thrown around a lot, and toward the latter half of the day, we split up more since their main target is me. It gives her a break, even if it makes her grumpy.

But unlike the movies, she�s not stubbornly opiniated, willing to risk her life for no good reason but pride. She�s practical enough to understand that she can�t do any protecting if she�s dead.

One day, and by the time they finally decide to act, we�ve landed on one of the semi-abandoned islands that dot the ocean. The entire place was initially swarming with monsters, but the constant bombardment while we ran around has thinned the herd, even as more continue to emerge from the overflowing dungeon.

�Why the hell would they let a dungeon break happen?� I snarl, feeling the pulse, the open wound of Mana that is the dungeon and its overflowing monsters like a needle in my System senses.

�Level management, if I had to guess. Let it break, let the monsters kill and Level up outside, then when the place is packed, let a Heroic or some senior Master Classers go to town and farm the XP.� Ali looks harried, exhausted like Mikito and me. He�s reverted to his normal form rather than the floating crystal he was, but he�s hazy, broken at the edges. It�s one of the ways I know he�s struggling. As a creature of energy and concept, what he looks like is more a matter of choice and will than physical truth.

As Mikito rides up to me, blood dripping off the edge of her naginata and the edges of her translucent armor, I look around. It�s silent for the first time in a while, though in the corner of my vision, I see a pair of dots moving toward us unhurriedly.

The vivid colors of the planet�s vegetation are marred, crisped by flames and overwrought energy, stained with dark purple and red blood. Corpses of monsters that attempted to attack us or were caught in the crossfire litter the ground, lustrous scaled skin and peacock feathers crisped. Once upon a time, I�d have picked up the high-Level waste, used every inch of their hides to earn a few Credits.

Now, I just wonder if they�d work as cover.

�Decided to stop running?� Kasva says. The Champion is bedecked in his gold-edged plate armor that sparkles in the sunlight, pink skin and small tusks perfectly burnished. He looks as if he just walked off a magazine shoot, his hair billowing in the wind.

�Decided to come out to play at last?� I reply, conjuring my swords. They form around me, hanging in mid-air, and I smile grimly. Level 38 to my own Level 14�quite a big difference. Especially since Kasva�s got a bunch of additional Class Skills.

Beside him, a short whiplike creature slithers forward on his tail. He hisses and shifts, staring at Mikito. A crystal diadem floats above his earless head, yellow scales glinting in reflected light. Ali provides his Status, making me wince a little.

Buidoi Samaaoi, Winner of the 219th Koopash Tournament, Banned of the Casinos, Marked Gambler, Marked from Birth, Mind Flayer, Outcast, Slayer of Goblins, Movana, Truinnar, Hakarta, Erethran, Grimsar, � (Psychic Master Level 42) (M)

HP: 2140/2140

MP: 4230/4230

Conditions: Psychic Storm, the Waves of the Soul, Mana Fount, Empathic Senses, Mind to Body

�I was held back,� Kasva says. He looks as unhappy as I am as he walks forward and plants his feet before me. His cloak catches the wind, fluttering behind him. I spot a half dozen small drones, barely larger than a fly, floating before him. Recording him. �By those who feel you are worthy of being taken seriously.�

�Bomb me to bits first then.� I shake my head. �But then you take the time to let my Health and Mana regenerate.�

�Killing you was never the expectation. Though it would have been convenient,� Kasva says. �Your companion perhaps. But even that was not within the range of forecast outcomes. Wearing you down, mentally, was.�

�Some people might point out that lowering my intelligence might be the opposite of good,� I say, idly twirling my sword. �I�m more an instinctual fighter.�

�Some might. Few who have truly studied you, Redeemer.� Kasva�s eyes narrow as he regards me. �You might fight instinctually, but you win your fights with your mind.� He pauses, then adds, �And with unexpected help at times.�

I grin.

�Those Questors. What did you tell them?� Kasva says.

Before I can answer, pressure pushes at my mind like a building headache. It�s annoying, and there�s an understanding that if I push, I could make it disappear. I almost do, before I pause and consider the pain, the pressure. I test it with my System sense, feel the edges of the attack with my System Edit Skill.

And watch as a flood of notifications arrive.

Mental Intrusion Detected

Skill: Secrets of the Mind and Soul in use.

Modified Skill Detected

System Edit (Level 2) Used to Edit Skill.

Would you like to see edits?

A mental assent is all I need before details on the Edited Skill arrive in a tangle of Mana.

Mental Resistances Lowered

Mental Manipulation Detection Opportunities Lowered

System Resistances Altered

Intelligence Attribute�Compromised

Each of those are summaries, high level headlines for what is a much more complex bundle of information. I absorb it all within fractions of a second as the Mana threads flow within me. Armed with new knowledge, I push back, slamming shut the mental intrusion.

Mental Influence Resisted

�Nice try,� I say while Buidoi cocks his head.

I wonder how much Kasva knows, how much he suspects. He is the Champion, but in the conversation, there were hints. Hints that the Council and the Administrators are not the same. That there might be another council, another group behind them.

�Will you answer the question?� Kasva says. �You could save a lot of lives. Already we are forced to undertake drastic actions. The terrorist attack on the military base containing Guard DeeArz was highly inflammatory.�

�Who?�

�The individual striking at you from above.� Kasva gestures above and I nod. Artillery boy. �Many were killed in aiding you. Men, women, slugs. Ordinary guards who were just doing their jobs. Killed by the bomb that did nothing to injure Guard DeeArz himself.�

I make a little face at that. I�m not thrilled to hear of the deaths.

As if sensing my hesitation, Kasva continues. �If you provide us details, information about your friends, we can end the deaths early. Lower the body count, the numbers that must die.�

�No offer of mercy for myself?� I tilt my head toward Mikito, who is silent, watching the pair on her horse. �Or my companions.�

�Too late for you or your companions. But not for the civilians, for the innocent Questors you have dragged down with you.� Kasva gestures again, his movements expansive. I note the little cameras moving. �No need to drag others down.�

I find myself staring at Kasva and Buidoi for a long moment. It�s a tempting offer, one geared to tug at my heartstrings, at the remnants of my conscience. My eyes narrow in thought, and perhaps I�d have continued talking.

As always, I�m saved by my friends. By those who have aided me.

�Six assault teams are surrounding you, cutting off all escape. He�s just buying time!� The voice is familiar, but one I�d forgotten mostly. It�s Vrasceids, the Middle Samurai�s voice crackling over my helmet�s communicator. He says something else, but it comes across garbled as the Council shuts down his hack. But the map download he sends expands my minimap.

It shows the truth of the attackers coming for us. And suddenly, that moment of peace ends as the silence becomes edged with dread and the upcoming threat.

�Ah� too bad.� Kasva smirks and gestures for the drones to move aside. The next motion he makes is to explode forward, legs fountaining dirt behind him as he charges us.

***

He�s fast. Faster than I realized, watching the recordings. I get the feeling he was holding back for this reason. He bats aside two of my floating swords, the one I wield, and my blocking arm, and hits me in the chest with his fist. No weapon, just a fist.

Cold, penetrating cold, tears away my breath and locks my muscles from the attack. It digs deep into my chest even as I fly backward, the attack bypassing my Soul Shield, Hod�s armor, and my resistances. He doesn�t stop, launching a second, third, and fourth strike.

I manage to block two of the others, take a glancing blow on the fourth. The cold radiates from the top of my shoulder from the fourth strike, slowing me down further. I trigger Penetration�s Evolved form, hitting back as hard as I can to make the Skill shield work. Somehow, his attacks punch right through my Soul Shield without destroying it entirely, though I can sense its integrity has dropped.

�What the hell is going on?� I get the thought off even as I do my best to deploy the rest of my Skills.

Aura of Chivalry turns on, its effects slowing my opponent by fractions of a millisecond. But it costs me nothing, so I let it run. Vanguard of the Apocalypse gives me speed and strength, boosting me, as does the Haste spell I�ve already laced myself with. Vanguard drains my Stamina, which will take a beating under the stress of fighting. For more speed, I use Unstoppable Force as well, boosting my damage output and attributes even further.

Domain engages after that. It takes a while to fully trigger as the System extends who and what I am over the space I�m in. The Champion slows down noticeably when Domain does kick in, and my Penetration Shield glows and firms up, shards of ice and frost noticeable along its shell. The damage per second effect hammers him and the few monsters we pass, flames erupting from trees and plants while reinforcing my Penetration Shield.

The sky spins and blurs around me as we battle. I keep blocking, conjuring and dispersing my swords as I block his attacks, forcing him to dodge or take the cuts. Pink and purple vegetation burns, trees shatter, and we keep adding Skills.

Disengage Safeties triggers next, overriding the Hod�s output regulators. It gives me greater strength, speed, reaction times. When I swing and attack, cutting at the Champion, he�s forced back now, with all the accumulated boosts I have. I�m stronger, faster than him�briefly.

Then he triggers his own Skills. Passive effects that build upon his strength, that grow stronger the longer we fight, Skills that have limited durations. My advantage disappears. We�re equal to one another for now, even as Kasva takes damage from my Domain.

Our fight takes us farther away from Mikito and the psychic. We move at such speed that hills are destroyed, trees and vegetation flattened. Everywhere we pass, monsters are hurt, injured, and killed. I attempt to guide the fight to the edges of the island, to where his people attempt to surround us, to deal damage to them as well. Kasva blocks my attempts, punching me down, throwing me aside and guiding the fight with contemptuous ease.

We�re equal in attributes, but not in skill. Or Skills. He has decades of combat experience over me, training by the finest masters in the Galaxy, and an unimaginably large Credit pool to draw from. His strength builds with each moment, his attributes increasing the longer we fight. The gap between the two of us constantly increases.

Funnily enough, neither of us are bothering to Zone or Dimension Lock another. Even the planetary lock is of little use, bypassed on a short-range basis by myself and removed for the Champion. But neither of us is bothering to run.

I need to finish this fast before all the on-going Skill use drains my Mana and Stamina pools. With so many Skills turned on and with the use of my damage-eliciting Skills, my Mana Pool is draining at an alarming rate. I�m losing nearly three hundred Mana per minute just for my current Skill use, never mind Stamina drain or damage to myself.

Worse, he�s wielding an affinity. One he has a Greater Affinity for. It�s cold, or frost, or something along those lines. It�s making me slower, freezing muscles and tendons, locking up my limbs and organs and forcing me to injure myself with each movement. Unstoppable Force bleeds the edge off his attacks a little, but not enough. Each time he hits, he�s slipping past my Evolved Penetration Shielding and hurting me. Not much, but enough that his affinity takes hold as it slips past even the physical containment of the Hod.

Perhaps I could fight it back, use my own affinity on it. But I don�t have time to experiment, not in the middle of the fight. Even as I block another attack, he�s shoving his arm right through my blades, shedding blood and skin in an attempt to grab me.

I pull back, dropping my sword and snatching it as it reappears in my other hand, shifting angles so that he�s forced to impale himself on it. Kasva does, the blade bending around his reinforced armor a little even as blood drips.

A surge of power shoots a Blade Strike out from the tip of the blade, firing from the point of the weapon into his open wound. It burns Kasva, crisping his flesh and muscle before tearing a new orifice in his body.

Then Kasva hits me, his hand wrapping around the edge of the Hod�s armor. Grey metal groans and tears as he twists, throwing me through the air before I impact the edge of a hill. The angle is sufficient that I tear a deep furrow before skipping off into the sky, legs aching and numb. As I crest above the hill, Kasva is chasing me on foot, already at the top, ready to punch me again.

Abyssal Chains trigger, forming from around the hill and reaching upward. He flinches a little, thinking the black chains are meant for him. But they�re too low-powered to slow him. Instead, I wrap myself in the chains, change the arc of my flight, and dodge him even as I conjure and layer the air between us with weapons.

Kasva turns, searching for me, scaled armor sparking as it batters aside my swords. Blade Strikes tear into his back as I angle myself over his body, and as I land and spin around, Beacon of the Angels strikes down on his charging form.

Another moment to focus as I trigger another Skill. I have him held, for a brief moment, as he hunkers down around the blast of Beacon of the Angels. It�s enough time for more swords to form, for me to use Army of One.

I swing my hand down, the enhanced Intelligence and my control of the System making the once-elongated process of casting faster than ever. I admit, I�m surprised to find that true, but only in a very small corner of my mind.

Army of One hammers into the Champion. He blocks it on his arm, expending one of his enchanted items to form a spherical green shield of energy to tank the attack. It�s insufficient, given the amount of damage I can do, especially with Penetration.

Bright cracks form, then the energy dome shatters. White light pierces his shield, catching him on the arms, mutilating skin and muscle. Bones the color of brick are revealed as my attack breaches his defenses.

Kasva lands in a heap farther away from me, body smoking, the air shrieking as overheated air forms around us. As he stands, I can literally see flesh and muscle forming around his flesh. Healbot nanites, Skills, and enchantments all work in tandem to keep him on his feet. But he�s dazed, recovering.

Another time, I might have said something. Taunted him. Here, now, I just call upon my next Skill�Grand Cross. I spin the Skill, the formula together without thought, taking the brief moment to finish it.

A bright light, a column of energy. Small, no larger than the man I target. It crashes down, gravity and electromagnetic force and Mana. So much System Mana, focused on one small area.

It glows, growing brighter with each second. The flapping cloak, the emerald chest plate burn and melt beneath my attack. Kasva collapses onto his knees, forced down by the attack. The ground compresses in a circle around him, showing orange clay beneath. Light grows even brighter, cauterizing and crushing at the same moment.

So bright I can no longer see him.

Wind rushes outward, kicking at the Hod, threatening to knock me off my feet. The few remaining trees are knocked over as the kinetic energy of the attack disperses. The ground itself heaves and tosses, disturbing my balance.

And then, no more light. No more sound. The Skill ends.

When it�s gone, it leaves a crater centered around the Champion, eight feet deep, orange clay edging the crater. The wind moans, but there are no screams, no howls of anger.

And Kasva, still standing, still alive, grins at me as he floats out of the crater, burnt and damaged but alive.

�That all?�

***

I drop the majority of my Mana-intensive Skills, letting my Mana regeneration pick back up. Using all my Mana-intensive Skills means I�m close to tapped out, having spent over half my pool on my last three attacks.

I need the Mana now, need to refill the tank. Potions are slammed into my body, hypodermic needles flooding my body with Stamina and Mana potions. The cold tries to slow down the regeneration, slow my healing. I fight it back, but my body is trembling involuntarily as muscles clench and release.

Kasva doesn�t care as I ready myself. He stalks forward, his grin cracking wide. Metal, twisted and melted, regenerates around him, puddles of broken liquid flowing upward and connecting to the breastplate as it reforms. His cloak restitches itself before my eyes, flesh reforming and bones shifting back into the right position.

Above his head, his Status flashes, Mana and health climbing at an alarming rate. It�s not regeneration, because this is at least ten times the rate should be increasing from what I recall from the last little bit of our fight. Worse, he still has a quarter of his life yet.

I toss out a few Blade Strikes, but instinctual recognition of the glow around him is proven true. The attacks deflect off an invisible shield that flashes to life briefly. My eyes narrow as I read the System data that flows to me, the library filling me in on the rest.

Second Chance (Level 1) (H)

Champions do not fall that easily. There�s always another chance, another opportunity to keep going. How could a hero, a champion of the people, fall that easily, when the world believes in him? Second Chance makes that concept a universal truth.

Effect 1: Second Chance automatically activates when user has less than <1% of Health.

Effect 2: Skill User regains Health, Mana, and Stamina to maximum upon use of the Skill over the period of one (1) minute. All equipped equipment is restored to full durability. A portable second chance shield that grants invulnerability to damage is in effect during that restoration period. All Skills are reset.

Uses: 1

Recharge rate: Variable ($_championrepxhealthxManaregenxqualificationxlevelx�)

Annoying. Unlike the other second life Skill I�ve run into, this one regenerates the individual�s lifeforce. And something in the way the System information is coming to me says that the Champion has dumped multiple points in this, giving him more than one use.

I shake my head, pushing aside the idle thought of what an Evolved Skill like this would be like. As it stands, I�m pretty sure whatever he�s using to pierce my Shields is an evolved Skill, a damage multiplier effect or an evolved piercing attack or something. It combines to be a real cheat as he drives his Affinity into me.

Kasva strolls up, his body, his clothing, his weapons almost fully regenerated. He grins, cracking his knuckles, his neck. He even bounces a little on his feet as we wait for the shield to drop.

�Round two.�

The words are barely out of his mouth when he shoots forward, right at me. I drop low, pushing down hard on my Elemental Affinity, letting him hit me as I crouch. The bubble of my Penetration Skill bulges, flexes even as I adjust the angle of his strike and his momentum, the friction between himself and the world. I stabilize the ground beneath me, lock myself down with Immovable Object and heave.

He flies, arcing through the air, and even my head rings from the collision. I turn to track his flight, only to see him disappear from my sight.

Kasva reappears briefly to hit me as I twist around. I�m flying through the air, my Immovable Object Skill�s threshold exceeded. The belated feel of impact on my back arrives with a burst of pain and cold. I tumble through mid-air, spotting Kasva grinning at me. Before he disappears again.

Impact.

Cold.

Pain.

I try to block, try to defend myself with my swords. But he�s faster now, faster than ever. Another Skill, a passive that builds the longer he�s in a fight. He�s also using his equivalent of Blink Step, except his doesn�t confer momentum. So he�s teleporting, striking, and following up whenever I manage to reposition myself.

Even Blink Stepping myself�shoving past the weakened planetary Dimensional Lock around the island�is insufficient. I just damage myself porting through the sky before he is on me, smashing me around.

Fate�s Thread breaks the moment I latch it onto him, shorn apart by another Skill.

Impact.

Cold.

Pain.

The only advantage I have is that he�s taking less care around my weapons now, accumulating injuries. He�s healing around them, but each portion of damage adds to my Penetration Skill Shield. It holds, for now, as the Champion hammers at me.

But I�m realizing he doesn�t care about my shield. It�s his affinity that is doing the real damage here. My body is slowing, and no matter what I do to churn my Mana, to push against it, I feel myself freezing over. Slowing down.

Which lets him hit me more.

Which freezes me further.

Which lets him hit me more.

A vicious circle of pain as I am blasted around the island. Even Immovable Object doesn�t help, its parameters unable to stop the physical dislocation of myself or the ground I stand upon.

Trees tear, hills and cliff faces are destroyed. Sky and ground intermix in my view, nausea threatening to overtake my guts. He pummels me through the edge of a waterfall so hard that I collapse the cave behind it, crashing through the edges of an incipient dungeon, collapsing the mountain on the lair as I�m blasted out.

Blood dribbles from my chin and fills my mouth. Ribs grate, and I no longer tremble as my body stops fighting back against the encroaching cold affinity.

�Ali!� I scream for my friend, looking for help. But he�s nowhere to be found, hasn�t been anywhere since the start. I wonder what happened, a little, before I�m struck again.

My head throbs, blood leaking from my nose, my eyes. Vomit spills from my mouth. I struggle through the pain, searching for a way out. I reach for my Elemental Affinity, trying to excite my cells, to push against what he�s using. Instead, I end up injuring myself as I tear apart my very own cells.

Blood fountains from my arm as I block another attack and bones tear free of my muscle and skin. I fall down on my side, still partly protected by my shield. He�s still striking me with short, repeated jabs, hooks, and cut kicks.

Another blow and I bounce over to where one of the groups ringing us stands. My eyes widen when I notice they�ve got manacles, enchanted to capture and suppress my Mana regeneration. I push against the cold, triggering the start of Judgment for All. It starts slowly, even the Mana within me seeming to move slowly.

�No,� Kasva says and slams his hand down on the remnants of my shield.

The core of cold pierces me, and something flickers into my vision.

Mana Spike�Skill Disruption Attempted

Skill Interrupted Successful�Judgment of All

The Mana I gathered disperses and Kasva grins. �Take his shield down. I�ll make sure he doesn�t use anything.�

Another quick strike, and his affinity continues to burrow deeper into me.

I struggle.

I fail.

The cold takes me, darkness pulling at my consciousness.

And then, warmth.

Heat.

Flames everywhere. The cold affinity breaks, replaced by the heat, the warmth, the raging inferno of flame.

I scream, for it burns me. And the darkness that was approaching takes me.

Even as the world burns.

Chapter 18

I wake up, which is a surprise. I�m healed, which is less of a surprise, considering it�s the System. But as I struggle to wakefulness, as my arms shift to take me up, I find myself free of restraints. Another surprise.

Eyes crack open and I stare at the smooth white ceiling of a vessel of some form. I hear the engine running quietly in the distance, the slight shudder that is suppressed to all but the most delicate of Perceptions.

The fur blanket covering me trembles, shivering with each motion, the heated warmth of the fur bringing back flashes of my dream of rolling around in the depths of a canyon, fighting, struggling against a swarm of furred creatures that bite, chew, and claw.

I push away the nightmare, the relived memory, and breathe deeply. I swing my feet off the bed, leaving the soft, almost sensuous comfort of the mattress. The blanket rolls itself back up, fur parting a little, and I frown at the enchanted stitching it shows off. Expensive. Decadent. And wasteful.

�What the hell is going on?� I wonder.

I admit, I�m hoping someone will answer me, but the room is empty. In features, the room is much the same as the blanket and bed. Over-the-top luxury but understated in form. Nanite-based furnishings that form with a thought, restrictive arrays all around to ensure privacy and increase Mana density within. Soft lighting that is perfectly suited for human normal levels of sight. There�s even the faintest hint of vanilla, lavendar, and chocolate in the air, meant to calm.

�Awake finally?� Ali says, drifting out of the wall.

�What the hell happened to you?� I say, feeling a flash of irrational anger. Where was he? Where was Mikito when I was being beaten? Humiliated.

�Getting my ass handed to me,� Ali replies. �The Psychic had a Spirit of his own. Trapped me almost as soon as the fight started. I couldn�t get out.�

I frown, not recalling the enemy Spirit. Then again, that doesn�t mean much. Unlike me, who can make do with buying Skills and the like, Ali is constrained to some extent by the System. His strength is directly proportional to my true Level�so about one entire grade down. He�s the equivalent of a Master Class Level 14 Linked Spirit, which means if the other Spirit was Linked, Ali would be at a major disadvantage.

Still�

�I guess you�re not as good as you think,� I say. Ali glowers while I wave at him. �Mikito?�

�She�s fine. A little banged up and nursing the mother of all headaches, but she�s good. Being linked to you means she�s got more defenses than most against Psychics, but it wasn�t an easy fight.�

�What was?� I mutter rhetorically. I then ask the most important question. �Now, where the hell are we?�

I barely notice the wall open, falling apart as the nanites act upon the unspoken command of the one who enters. She�s tall, beautiful, regal, and scary at the same time. Golden hair tumbling down behind her back, pointy ears that suit the angular, heart-shaped face, and piercing blue eyes that strike a chord deep in my soul.

�Perhaps I can answer that.� The speaker�s voice is low, throaty, sensual. The kind of voice some women get naturally and others via a pack-a-day habit.

My loins stir involuntarily as a flood of notifications roll by my eyes. Most are beaten down, but the charms she wields leave their mark upon my mind, my body, and my emotions. I find myself turning, disregarding my lack of proper clothing as I face her.

That I conjure�successfully�my sword into hand only elicits a small, mysterious smile from her. �Who are you?�

She arches an eyebrow and tilts her head upward. I flush, realizing what she means, and look up to stare at her Status.

And find my jaw dropping.

The Lady of Shadows and Lies, ???? (??? Level ???) (L)

HP: ???/???

MP: ???/???

Conditions: ~Emotional, Mental and Physical Skill Manipulators~ (Put some pants on, boy-o!), ???

�Thousand hells.�

***

After she crooks a finger at me, I find myself following the swaying, green-dressed, form-fitting figure down the corridor. Out of portholes, I catch the occasional glimpse of surf and deep water, blinking creatures with way too many teeth and not enough points in Charisma. I watch it and her, all the while conjuring myself some clothing.

Because.

We don�t walk long before I enter an oval dining room. I manage to make it three steps before my eyes land on the figure dominating the room. And I find myself sinking to my knees, my legs giving way beneath me. If the Lady of Shadows is regal and queenly, a dream of a goddess of beauty given life, the one who sits, lounging with his feet on the table, is her opposite.

But more so.

The pressure he exudes, the dominance of the room crushes me, like being forced to give a speech before millions of disdainful mortals. Like the first time I tried to ask Angela out on a date in tenth grade, as her friends cut me down with their eyes. Except this time, the eyes can truly cut, the contempt crushing my will and bones. My heart hitches, pausing between beats.

No notifications, no indications the effects are driven by the System. Even my new System-enhanced senses are quiet. This is not a Skill or an Aura. This is the man�s sheer presence, the legacy of what he, who he is.

He�s a stake driven into reality, a reminder of who I am, what I am. How little I truly matter.

My head bows, my eyes close, and I find myself biting my lower lip. Anger roiling and thrashing deep within me smolders, catching fire. Reminders of past failures compress around my sense of self, and it doesn�t extinguish my ego but gives it fuel.

�This trick again,� I growl the words out. Or try to. It comes out slurred, mangled. But it doesn�t matter. I don�t say it for them.

Just for me.

I push, shoving back against the pressure, against the metaphorical chains that attempt to bind me. Fingers clench into a fist that pounds the floor once, then again. Pain flares down broken knuckles, but it�s pain I can use.

I use it to stand, to meet the man�s eyes. Meet and realize they�re reptilian in nature. Golden, with slitted pupils and a fire burning deep within. Meet and note he�s smiling.

It�s smiling.

So I smile back, though mine is more a snarl. I shove back as hard as I can and my heart speeds up, having restarted at some point. It beats fast, but it beats. My breathing evens out, even if it�s deep. The pressure, that was at first too heavy to bear, becomes manageable. Like most tragedies, time and will make it bearable. If painful.

�The Dragon,� I state, naming him.

My eyes travel to the side, blink as I spot another anomaly. Floating above a chair is a single twisted eye clad in a robe. The eye looks, feels familiar, bloated with fat and power. The library aids me, offering details.

�The Weaver.� I incline my head toward the eye.

It blinks but offers no other indication.

�You might as well let her up too,� the Lady cuts in. I follow the small gesture, the way she turns her body, and finally notice Mikito.

She�s kneeling, one hand gripping Hitoshi, the other on her knee. She is grimacing in pain and determination as she struggles to stay upright. Something in her eyes, something in the way she holds herself makes me wonder if she is trying her hardest.

Or waiting for the opportunity to thrust that polearm through the oh-so-tantalizingly-close dragon.

The pressure releases like a pop and Mikito draws a deep, unhindered breath, as do I. I offer her a half-smile before regarding the trio, making one more quick sweep for others. None that I can see. Which means almost nothing among this company.

�So. You saved us,� I say. �Why?�

�Not even a thank you?� the Dragon asks. Like the Lady, his Status is empty of any useful information.

�If you did it from the kindness of your hearts, without agenda or expectation of return, sure. Thank you.� I let the silence drag out a little. �But that�s not why you did it.�

The Lady slides into a chair, leaning back in it ever so slightly. The chair reforms to make itself more comfortable and, conversely, also emphasize her figure. Not that she needs any help.

The Weaver blinks. Once.

�No, it�s not,� the Lady says. A slight movement and a drink appears, forming above the table and allowing her to snag it. The pale, amber drink within the dainty fluted glass with a handle reminds me of whisky or tea.

I stay silent while she sips her tea and the Dragon stares at me as I stand there, waiting. Mikito shifts slightly, putting herself directly behind the most obvious threat. The silence drags on until such time as the Lady conjures a wooden, tiered display of snacks reminiscent of a snooty high tea restaurant.

�Am I supposed to call you the Lady, the Weaver, and the Dragon?� I change tactics, striding over to the table and taking a seat. I ignore the Dragon�s predatory gaze by dint of sheer willpower, letting the anger still smoldering within me be my shield.

�It will do as well as any moniker you might use,� the Dragon rumbles.

�Shiny.� I gesture and pull out snacks of my own, conjuring them from my own inventory. It�s nowhere as smooth, the plates and containers making noise as they drop onto the metal table. I snatch up a chocolate cake, pulling it to me as I spear the entire thing with a fork.

Yes, the entire cake. It�s been a long day.

Ali floats over my shoulder, making little motions with his hand to float one of the Lady�s snacks over to him. Mikito stays standing, watching in silence.

Chocolate cake, carafe of coffee, and a chaser of Mana-imbued water. I eat, ignoring the trio while I wait for them to answer my question. I�m amused to see the Dragon taste-test everything I dropped, while the Lady keeps to her own food. The Weaver just watches, rarely blinking. I�m half-done with the cake before she speaks.

�Few would dare to act like you.� The Lady gestures at me, and I flash her a tight-lipped grin. Mikito makes a wiping motion on her face and I find a napkin to clean up the mess around my lips. �Do you not fear what we might do?�

�To what? Me? Mikito?� I say. �Seems to me if you wanted to torture us, you�d have done it already. If you wanted me dead, you�d have waited a couple of seconds. Which means whatever you seek, it�s not something that force will aid you in achieving. And if I had to guess, you have the same question we�ve all been trying to answer all this time.�

�I care naught for your System Quest,� the Dragon rumbles. Golden eyes sparkle with flame, and the fork in my hand trembles a little as he showcases his displeasure. �It is enough to exist. Seeking the why is a fool�s errand.�

I feel a minor flash of irritation�more because of his casual dismissal than because he doesn�t care. I�ve known for a long time I�m on a fool�s errand, that I�m tilting at windmills of my own making. But stopping has never been something I�m good at. �Foolish or not, you saved me. So you want something.�

�What any good dragon wants.� He grins wide, showing me all his teeth. I�m reminded that he�s a predator as I note the pointed, sharp edge of the majority of them. �I desire power. And you Administrators, with your secrets and hidden agendas, are in the way of that.�

My mind spins, putting together numbers. Nine Inner Council members. Here are three members of the Inner Council in their own secret club.

The two Administrators I met aren�t part of the Inner Council numbers, which confirms there�s another, hidden power set. But there�s no way the Administrators would leave the Inner Council untouched. Which means they�d need at least four, if not more, members to outvote these three.

Six potential suspects.

�Emperor, Nang Mai, the Truinnar representative�their King�� It makes sense he�d be an Administrator. It�d give them power and it�d be an easy way to shape things. �Ares? Or his daughter.�

The Dragon inclines his head a little, marking my guess.

�Four against your three. The Erethrans are out�they�re barely holding on and I�d have been caught. The Movana? Maybe, but dangerous to use a faction,� I say.

Memory from the library comes back, filling me in on details about the seat, the number of seat changes for the faction. Surprisingly stable, with the Movana mostly holding the seat. But occasionally it changes. I run the numbers, gauge the politics, and decide they�re likely not controlled.

Not directly.

�Go on,� the Lady of Shadows says softly. Her eyes lower as she regards me as if I�m an intriguing bug. Or a dancing bear.

I keep talking out loud. �Four against three. But there are more, hidden Administrators who can join the Council if they wish. They probably tilt it in their direction, when they want, through bribes. But that doesn�t work, not all the time.� I sweep my gaze over the three. �And I bet you don�t always work together either. Too obvious. And probably too many conflicting agendas.� I remember Prax, fixing my gaze on the Lady, and frown. �In fact� you vote for them too at times, don�t you?�

She inclines her head.

I turn to the Dragon, somewhat certain of my conclusions. �You want me to distract, kill some of them, don�t you? Maybe help adjust the seats, make some of them lose power. Give you an opportunity to gain further control.�

�That is sufficiently correct for our purposes,� the Dragon says. �Your survival and the aggravation of your existence keeps them distracted. If you are able to end them or create opportunities for such an attack�� His grin reappears, feral and predatory. �My investment will have paid out.�

�But why act yourself, honored lord dragon?� Mikito says, her voice soft and demure.

He turns his head toward Mikito, head twisting all the way around like an owl�s. He looks puzzled for a second. As if he�d forgotten she was even here.

Before he can speak, the Lady cuts in. �Because the Lord Dragon does not countenance the use of others. He feels it is demeaning to his honor to deal regularly with those beneath him. As for myself��the Lady places a hand on her chest��I am required to hide you and him.�

That last makes sense. She�s who we were the most worried about all the time. And her presence here explains why the Council hadn�t found us too quickly, if she was working at cross-purposes the entire time. It does amuse me a little that the Dragon doesn�t have minions, but looking at the lounging, confident man, I can see it.

�Honor is important.� Mikito bobs her head in agreement.

I smile slightly as she butters up the Dragon while standing right behind him, ready to cut him apart with her polearm. Of course, I�m not sure it matters since he�s already turned from her at this point. But it�s useful to have at least one of us trying to be polite.

�So he wants Power. And you, the Quest?� I say to the Lady.

�Yes.�

�Why?�

�I�m the Lady of Shadows and Lies.Keeper of Secrets. Mistress of the Obscure,� The Lady drawls, her voice filled with sarcasm as she names her various unofficial titles. Then she becomes serious. �But there is one secret I do not have. Do you know how irritating that is?�

I open my mouth and, deciding against a direct answer, stuff it with chocolate. While the chewy, chocolatey gooeyness melts in my mouth and the ship we�re on cuts through the water silently, I consider my next questions.

To buy time, I swallow and look at the Weaver. �And you?�

Silence greets my question, which isn�t surprising. It is a floating eyeball after all.

�What do you think? Do we trust them?� I send to Ali, who shifts, staring between the group.

�Do we have a choice? Also, throne room.�

I pick uip the water, washing down my latest mouthful at Ali�s warning about our silent conversations being not so hidden. I slide my tongue along my teeth, picking up crumbs as I turn from the trio. They don�t seem particularly in a hurry to push this conversation along. But a part of me, the part that�s still agitated by the damn Dragon and his power plays, with having my ass handed to me by Kasva, can�t help but push things.

�Then let�s stop playing footsie. What exactly do you want?� I say as I lay down my fork and fix them with a flat stare.

***

�You had to say that, didn�t you?� Mikito says, hands on her hip as we watch the Lady�s vessel submerge itself and motor away. We�re standing on the shore of the beach off a peninsula a good thousand-plus kilometers from where we started.

A breeze kicks up as I contemplate her question and the last two hours. I draw a deep breath, smelling the salt in the breeze. I note the barest tinge of sulphur and rotten meat in it and wrinkle my nose at the smells, even as I answer my friend. �I doubt anything I said was going to change what they did.�

�Probably not.� Mikito shakes her head. �You do seem to attract hyper-focused individuals.�

�You know, I wonder if the fact that we have actual Levels and Skills kind of removes the need to posture as much. At least, when you hit the Levels those guys have,� I muse. �It�s not as if they don�t have a very clear understanding of how powerful they are.�

�You mean planet-swallowing levels of strength?� Ali says. �And instead of giving him a planet to eat, you offered him chocolate?�

�Hey, he liked it. And I only gave him the name of the chocolatier.�

�Which he�s now bought.�

�What!?!�

Ali gestures and a notification flashes up in front of me.

News Alert�Savoy & Sons, Her Majesty�s Chocolatiers, have now been purchased and renamed Savoy & Sons, His Dragon�s Chocolatiers.

�Thousand hells. He works fast.�

�Best remember that.� Ali taps his wrist. �And you should get moving too. That cloak she put on you won�t last forever.�

I nod, turning inland and beginning the hike. We head as fast as we can for the peak of the small mountain range ahead of us. Knowing where we�re headed, Mikito takes point, safeguarding me while I consider our most recent encounter.

For all my glib conversation with the Legendarys, in the last two fights I was involved in, I had my ass handed to me. The very last fight, I was as good as dead if not for the Dragon�s intervention. Sadly, while he had intervened, he�d left Kasva alive, citing security concerns with killing him.

Personally, I think he just likes to see me squirm.

While I might have help in beating the Administrators, if I meet them again, I do need to work out how to deal with Kasva. That Affinity of his was nasty, and figuring out what it was and how to beat it will top my list of things to do.

Fortunately, I�ll have more than sufficient time to work that out. Katherine and Rob have, from what the Lady tells me, taken my suggestion and run with it. There�s quite a bit of a ruckus growing right now, but even so, there�s no guarantee anything we do will be enough for the vote. Estimates�and these are the Lady�s estimates�put us too close to call. There are too many variables since a particularly annoyed planet could throw all of its backing into making the vote work.

But the advantage of the chaos we�ve caused is that many are now hesitant, concerned about being backstabbed. Or using their resources to lash out. It�s delayed the vote again, giving us time.

For now, me staying hidden is for the best. The idea of a Galactic Bounty Hunter�Silver Class running around and lashing out against our enemies is useful. So long as I�m alive, I can spawn my doppelgangers to kill and wreak havoc.

With the Lady�s help, I expect my doppelgangers will do even more damage than normal, potentially tipping the scales. And though Harry has been captured, imprisoned under the orders of the Council, his interrogation is currently on hold. A power play going on between the Administrators who wish to learn how much I�ve told him and the Lady, who insists on being in the questioning, as is her right as the Secret Keeper of the Council.

That her insistence on regulations is but a threadbare fig for her naked curiosity, it is a curiosity and interest that is well-known. And as such, unremarkable. In this way, my friend is safe.

For now.

In the meantime, while my doppelgangers are busy playing hardball and Katherine and Rob are trying to convince everyone else to keep to their promises, we�re here. Holding up our end of the deal with the Legendarys.

Doing the one thing they cannot.

We�ve traded knowledge, information on the Administrators that we�ve met for information too. The Dragon was more than happy to gain confirmation of members of the shadow council. Together, the Lady and Weaver will use that information to track down more of the Administrators, figure out who is and isn�t part of the shadow council. Confirm�or not�their pawns on the Inner Council. It�s a good trade.

All things they can do that I can�t. But out here, this place, this exploration of information, this is ours to do.

Our feet grind into the ground as we turn around the switchback, pushing past the hanging foliage on the deer�har, probably something a lot less innocuous than a deer�trail we follow and find ourselves before our goal. Amusingly enough, for all the alien architecture I�ve seen, for all the soaring skyscrapers, living trees, crystalline temples, this structure is all too familiar. A dome with a single, deep slit sits upon a cylindrical base. An observatory, meant for viewing the stars.

An innocuous-looking structure.

Which hides the Administrative Center we�re about to break into.

Chapter 19

We stand on the small, flat outcropping, shattered granite sand beneath our feet as we stare at the observatory. To all external senses, it�s abandoned, empty of sapient personnel. A light wind blows, catching at our clothing, bringing with it the taste of the sea.

We stare at our objective until Mikito shrugs and walks forward. She does so hesitantly, back tense, bracing for an attack that never comes. A few more steps and she turns around, frowning at me.

�What?� I say.

�No attack. None of�� She waves as if trying to explain the mental, emotional pressure the last Administrative Center had forced upon us.

I stride over, head cocked as if I�m listening for the attack. As she said, nothing. I turn around, sensing something unusual. Over my right shoulder, where I�m used to a floating presence, I find nothing.

�I�ll just be back here, if you don�t mind. Getting banished sucked,� Ali is quick to say when I spot him, still a distance back and floating farther away with each passing second.

�Traitor!� I shake my hand at him before turning back to the looming observatory. Mikito has not waited for me, continuing to close on the silent structure. I hurry to catch up with her and turn my head as I pass her. �You know, I�m the Administrator here.�

�Junior.� Mikito speeds up, pushing ahead of me. �Also, bodyguard.�

�Better resistances.� I speed up again.

�Faster.� She overtakes me once more.

�Soul Shield.�

�Ghost armor.�

In this manner, we race toward the observatory. We�re sprinting in a silly attempt to outpace one another. But for all our joking, neither of us is really going all out, and we�re keeping an eye out for problems.

Of which there are exactly none.

Standing before the closed door, a hand on the entrance plate, I glance at Mikito one last time. Upon her nod, I send the surge of Mana it waits for, opening the damn thing.

To find the inside empty too.

�Well, that�s a little disappointing,� Ali says, making the pair of us jump as he appears behind us.

***

We walk the empty halls, chatting quietly, heads turning from side to side as we manually search for problems. There are no sapients within, though there are numerous dumb machines and semi-sentient droids taking care of the place, jotting down notes, cleaning the mirrors, and repairing issues. There�s even a single security droid that attempts to chase us out. The insides are busy, if empty of living creatures.

�Makes sense with their tech to automate everything,� I say. �No point in being here when you can just get the readings sent over.�

�And the overall Level is low enough that the security droid and the exterior walls keep things secure,� Mikito says.

�Needing space and clear skies to run the observatory makes sense,� Ali adds. �Along with the Mana-sensing equipment.�

�But that doesn�t explain why we can�t find the Center.� Once more, I look around the building as we keep climbing.

We make it to the top of the building, to where they house the telescope and other Mana-sensing equipment, only to find nothing. No sense, no indication of an Administrative Center.

�You sure there�s one here?� Mikito finally voices the question we�ve all been asking.

�The Lady believes so,� I say. It�s not as if I have a better clue. The only time I found one was when they told me the exact coordinates.

�There�s no� mind messing,� Mikito says.

�I know.�

I stomp around the perimeter, poking idly at the equipment and walls and triggering nothing. I end up back where Mikito is standing, watching me while Ali floats around, his notification windows beside him. Searching in his own way.

�But this is our best lead,� I say.

�Then maybe you are looking at this the wrong way,� she says.

Her words force a reluctant nod of acknowledgement from me. I draw a breath then another, slowly cycling out irritation and impatience before I tap into my Skill. Skill Edit blooms and I reach out with it, using the additional System Edit sense it gives me for� something.

The results come so fast, I could kick myself for not doing this earlier. The Administrative Center�s entrance is like a blazing beacon in my mind, one that screams for attention. Half-cognizant of what I�m doing, I walk down the stairs, away from the main rooms, into a familiar office.

The door slides open, revealing a boring-ass manager�s office. But it�s not the desk that I see, nor the single, strangely shaped chair with its extra-long seat and sloped back. My attention is fixed on the empty exterior wall that should lead to the outdoors. I�m nearly there, nearly touching it when a hand drops on my shoulder.

�You�re taking me with you this time, yes,� Mikito says. The sentence might be phrased like a question, but it�s clear she really isn�t asking one.

�I don�t think I can,� I say. My head turns, facing Ali. �I don�t think even he can come.�

�Don�t think or do you know?� Mikito says.

I consider the information pressing on my mind. Glyphs, runes, whatever you want to call them, each with further information encoded in each rune, their meanings manifold. Details about exceptions, regulations, methods of creating exceptions, security considerations, minimum thresholds, data and more data.

I try processing it consciously, fail, and give up, letting my subconscious mind take care of the information flowing within. It�s the only way to deal with the System, only way to understand� everything.

�Know. Sorry.� I tilt my head upward, considering. �But I think, yes. I should be able to augment and alter the security protocols. Keep you hidden, just like the Lady did.�

�You sure?� Mikito says, frowning. �You know, I could go with her��

�And be beholden to that witch further?� I shake my head. �We already owe her for Harry. And your club.�

Mikito makes a face. �We don�t know if she�s lying.�

�No, we don�t. But do you think they�d leave even that stone unturned?�

Mikito shakes her head.

�Right. So we trust that she�s protecting them as best she can. By making them less of a threat than they might be.�

�I�.� Mikito bites her lips, shaking her head. �Do you think they know what they�re truly getting into?�

I hesitate, thinking of her question. Thinking of all those we�ve burnt, will burn. All those who�ve been sacrificed on the altar of my Quest. Who will be sacrificed. I see Lana�s face, Roxley�s dark skin, the pictures of Kyle�s and Sarah�s kids. I remember an old friend, a tired First Nation lady and a vibrant one, now dead.

Harry.

Richard.

Bolo.

Even Catrin, perhaps.

So many lives at risk or lost already. And for what?

For what?

�Boy-o?� Ali calls.

I shake my head, seeing Mikito�s face, brows scrunched, lips tight with worry. I offer her a half-smile, then tell her the truth.

�I don�t know. Probably not. But did any of us?� I say. �I don�t know if there�s anything that could ever make us truly prepared. But we�ve made choices, and those choices have brought us here. And there might be more prices to pay, more lives lost. But if we stop moving forward now, everything we�ve done will have been for nothing.�

Mikito nods, then meets my eyes. She says the next words slowly. �Then you best get moving, baka.�

With those compassionate words ringing in my ears, I touch the wall.

***

The inside of the Administrative Center is similar to the last one I was in. Same white d�cor, same large windows of notifications giving details about the local System code and tickets. Same mezzanine. Good news though�what�s not the same is the lack of homicidal Senior Administrators.

Once I confirm my life isn�t at risk, I turn my attention to the buzzing notifications. I flip through them quickly, ignoring the welcome messages, searching for new information. A surprise is the small experience notifications I get when I find a pair of the tickets I was working on having been completed. I get partial experience and credit for that.

I almost pull up the tickets to see what they�ve done to my code. To see what kind of obtuse solution they entered for what would likely be a simple solution. Then I smack myself mentally. For not trusting others and for the fact that I�m not here to code.

At least, not immediately.

Instead, I dig through the notifications for more information. I�m still puzzled about why the Senior Administrators didn�t exit after me. Nor do I think that just trying to kill me is all they could do if they were blocked from exiting.

Unsurprisingly, I find my answer in my notifications.

Senior Administrators ared Lebek�jjas and Wex have been penalized for violating Administrative Center protocols.

No information about what kind of penalties, but I�m assuming it involved being unable to follow me. Potentially being put in a time-out. I can only hope it�s a long time-out. Still, that�s one mystery solved. Not that it was a big mystery, but I�ll take the wins where I can find them. I haven�t been getting a lot of them recently.

Senior Administrator ared Lebek�jjas has input a demerit for Junior Administrator Lee and instituted a decrease in his security clearance.

Those Gremlin-shit eaters. Wait. Am I hanging out with Ali too much? I�m beginning to curse like him.

Security Clearance for Junior Administrator Lee is now at Level 5.

Root Administrator has reviewed security clearance decrease for Junior Administrator Lee.

Root Administrator has rescinded security clearance decrease.

Security Clearance for Junior Administrator Lee has been adjusted by Root Administrator to Level 1*.

The last three notifications scroll past without comment as I find myself too stunned to move. I stare at the last notification that slowly disappears, my jaw hanging open, my mouth and throat drier than the underside of a vacuum cleaner in the Sahara Desert.

Administrative Center maps have become available for Junior Administrator Lee. Please access Administrative Center consoles for further details.

Root Administrator.

There�s a Root Administrator.

I find myself on the floor, shivering. Emotions, long pushed aside or subsumed under that most useful of cloaks�rage�erupt and resolve. My hands are shaking, and I find my eyes wet with unshed tears.

Because if there�s a Root Administrator, and one that rules against the Senior Administrator, then that means there�s someone out there who might be able to help us. Someone who, with their knowledge, might be able to answer my questions. Someone who can stand against the Council in its entirety. Stand against even my so-called allies.

It means there�s hope.

Of salvation.

And an answer to the Quest.

As though the System reads my mind, my System Quest has another update waiting for me, one that appeared when I read the other notifications. A simple update, a small rollover of numbers.

System Quest Completion Rate: 90.1%

�Gods above and below�� I breathe the words, staggering to my feet as I prod at the notification. But there�s no further data to be had, just a simple notification. No more useful than a plain piece of paper.

Just a series of numbers.

Which change everything.

�I knew it.� My grin grows savage as I look around the Administrative Center, my smile widening. Gloating at my success. At the hope I can now grasp, which I thought lost. Lost, even though I dared not say so to Mikito. Or anyone else.

And then my face falls, for the library reminds me that my success, the knowledge I�ve extracted, is not unique. Other Questors have reached these heights. Others must have gotten this close. And to keep their secret, to protect their powers, the knowledge I�ve gleaned, the Administrators have enacted purges. Billions have perished to cover up this secret.

�How far will you go?� I repeat Mikito�s question out loud.

And for once, I have no answer. For my resolution is shaken.

***

I walk upstairs in the echoing silence of the Administrative Center, ignoring the unanswered question I leave behind, headed for the mezzanine. There�s nowhere else I�ve not seen, and rather importantly, I�m looking for information on the map. Tapping the details in the notification had not provided me further details, so I�m leaning toward the mezzanine having the answers.

The mezzanine, when I finally make it upstairs, is empty of everything but a gleaming silver console. I walk over to the console and frown, for it�s empty of buttons or markings.

I prod it with a finger, only to watch notifications bloom before me. But my eyes are glazed over, for I�m busy focusing on the Mana stream, the System information being displayed to me via my Skill.

Information about the facility, about the people who have used it, about the settings for the facility surrounding the Administrative Center. A slight touch of power extends the zone of exclusion. Another ensures that Ali and Mikito are allowed to work within that zone. I set a timer on this, before letting it revert to its previous settings.

My friends� safety assured, I pull up further information. I find details on the zones in close proximity, information on monster Levels and aggression settings. Details about spawn rates, habitats, Mana flow to each of the species, unmarked Mana and System Mana inflow and outflow.

My lips twist in amusement as I make a few adjustments. The lure I deploy ensures Mikito will have something to do while I�m busy, the System-enforced shielding around the building giving her a safe place to rest when necessary.

Another focus of will, and I drop a note for her to read over Party Chat. It requires more effort to do so as I�m forced to bypass some of the safeguards in the Center, but being at the console, I�m finding I have more options. And one of them is a way to �spoof� my location to some extent. The manipulation wouldn�t hide itself from other Administrators, but it does make things like explaining what I�m doing to mundanes easier.

More importantly, as I stare at the console, I�m brought to focus on another aspect of my time in the previous center. I�d done a ton of work, gained a bunch of Levels, yet when I came out, it seemed only a few hours had passed. Like the Shop, the Administrative Centers each have time dilation effects, but the level varies and is, in general, significantly more powerful than most Shop time dilation effects.

Of course, I immediately try to adjust it. More time to train, more time to think, would be an advantage to me. But I hit a hard wall in the code as the System refuses to budge that number. Not for a simple Level 3 Administrative Center.

If I want a higher time dilation, I need to find an Administrative Center with a higher Security Rating. Which brings me to the last notification waiting for me.

I touch it, and information blazes into me. I crumple to the floor as nerves burn from Mana flooding into me along with the information. It�s as if the System is literally carving the information into my body with liquid fire.

Fingers clench and tremble, and I let out little whimpers as I spasm on the floor. I�m really beginning to hate being a System Administrator. Even if I�ve learnt to ignore the pain, the damage, it�s not fun. As pain finally recedes, I touch the imprinted information tentatively. And realize why the damn process hurt so badly.

The System Galaxy blooms in my mind in its entirety. Not just the planets, but the space in between too. There are even Administrative Centers in the deep reaches of space, places where swarms of space wraiths and leviathans float, asteroid-laden phantom stalkers and electric stingrays float on solar winds.

The empty vastness of space is not so empty, not with creatures such as those. And other, smaller, almost impossible-to-notice things. Clouds of creatures, as fine as dust, who exist upon Mana itself. These clouds float in the vastness of space, churning through unaffiliated Mana and creating System Mana.

I knew all this. Even fought some of these creatures in my time in the Galaxy. Now, with the galaxy map forming in my mind, I see the galaxy as the System sees it, and with it, the spaces that we, as Administrators, must care for.

In this map, I have the location of every Administrative Center I may journey to. And there are so many, so many for those with security clearances of three or lower. A single thought will show me any single spot, any single world, with full directions and a map of where to go.

�Couldn�t have just given me a damn paper map, could you?� I grumble, struggling to my feet.

I stare down my body, at the wet patch on the floor, and cast a Cleanse. Watching as blood and other unmentionables disappear. And I grin grimly.

For among all the information burned into me, there�s a single dot that glows. That burns, calling to me. A dot, an anomalous security clearance and a notification.

Administrative Center 14-1-1 (Security Access Level 1*)

A single place, the only one that I can access that is higher ranked than three. The asterisk in my Security Clearance. Located in the deepest regions of the Forbidden Zone, in the center of the System galaxy. Where planets should be overrun, destroyed by the pressure of unaffiliated Mana.

A lure. A goal. An objective.

On a planet full of dragons.

***

Once I�ve regained my bearings, I explore the security console further. There are more functionalities in the console, but for the most part, its aspects hold little interest to me. It does give me a deeper understanding of the System, of how it controls the flow of Mana. And it reinforces my belief, my understanding that the entire System is nothing more than a sieve.

Unaspected Mana goes in, aspected Mana comes out. Living creatures, matter, it all acts as a sieve. But creatures, living creatures, are better sieves than most, while sapients are the best. And the higher the Level, the better.

Titles, Levels, Classes, all of it are just a method for the System to push sapients to advance, grow, and become stronger to handle more Mana. There�s an aspect of sapient creatures�call it the soul, call it Mana saturation�that changes when people Level. When people push themselves. And in so doing, expand what they can hold.

It�s this aspect that the System wants to expand upon. And so Titles, Levels, Skills, spells. All of it, available to give everyone as much opportunity as possible. Experience is just a way for the System to judge growth and force it. The entire system is the most laisez faire capitalist system in the galaxy.

More than that, it�s also corrupted. For I can see the fingerprints of the Administrators all over it. Adjustments made by Senior and Junior Administrators to benefit one Class, one Skill, one person over another. Minor adjustments that pass the System�s verification. Galactic Council edicts that twist the�relatively minor�levers the System offers them to their benefit.

It�s not a good System. The more I dig into it, the more I notice the slipshodness, the haste with which it seems to have been implemented. There are errors, but the errors are covered by expenditures of Mana such that no one notices them in the moment. Until an Administrator or the System itself puts in a more permanent patch. Sometimes causing even more trouble further down the line.

It�s not a fair System. But I don�t think it cares to be fair. Or just. There�s no overarching edict, no rules or conditions.

Yet for all the information I glean, for all my new understanding, even when muttered out loud, I gain no change in my System Quest. That Quest, that question lies unanswered.

What is the System?

I know what it is in terms of Mana, in terms of function. I can see the code. But I don�t know the why. And the deeper secrets of what it is, what the System truly means. Or so the System judges.

Perhaps just as important, what is Mana? And why does the System go through so much effort to integrate it, control it? Why can it do what it does, change the very fabric of reality?

�And why does it keep increasing?� I say softly.

Because it�s very, very clear, looking at the information provided to me here, that the Mana keeps increasing. Every second, every moment, the numbers climb. And it�s been going on for thousands, hundreds of thousands of years. Eventually, at some point, like the heat death of the universe, Mana itself will fill the world and kill us all.

If there is an answer, it�s not one that I can find here. Once more, my gaze drifts to the simple map notification.

Administrative Center 14-1-1 (Security Access Level 1*)

If there�s an answer, it�s there. An end to the road. Just a hop, skip, and jump away. Past the yellow brick road, at the end of the rainbow. Over the eastern sea where the immortals live.

All I have to do is get there�

�And be willing to sacrifice everyone else along the way.�

Because that�s what it would mean. I can see it now, the Administrators beginning their purge. Sending armies to destroy Earth. Bounty Hunters and assassins after the Questors. The Galactic Council�s army, their guards searching down everyone connected to my quest.

�But I�d have my answer.�

For why they have to die. For why a world had to be twisted. For all the death and destruction. Why, after all this time, I�m still standing. Still here, where so many others who should be alive are dead. Individuals more deserving, more virtuous.

An answer.

An ending.

I close my eyes, searching for my anger, my conviction. And finding it missing, banked. Anger has no answer for me here, rage no solution. Desperate action can only take you so far before it sputters to an end, leaving you standing empty and hollow. Gutted of dreams and hopes, lost in the blaze of energy and action, washed away in streams of weeping blood and unshed tears.

In the desert of my soul, I search for something to hold on to, some compass to give me an answer. Resolution or benediction.

Time passes, and in that hollow space, I find it. The simple truth of my own existence.

My eyes snap open. And I laugh softly at the simple answer I have found. Because there was never really a choice. Not and be who I am, what I have forged myself into after all these years.

�What is, is. And it�s time to make that clear too.�

I look up at the softly glowing, blank ceiling. I crane my head, searching for a sign of the Root Administrator that might be watching.

I find nothing, but still, I speak. �Fair warning given then. I�m coming for you and for my answers.

�And if I have to, I�ll let your Council burn to get it.�

Chapter 20

Of course, it�s not that simple. Time dilation means I have time to kill. To learn and Level. Prepare and plan. I make full use of it. Because there�s more to be done to ensure I�ll be able to do what I need, to reach where I have to go.

First things first, I use the communication hack I have to coordinate with Mikito and those I need to work with. Katherine�s initial list, of those who oppose us and those who might be swayed, becomes my guide as I make calls.

There aren�t many, just a few here and there. People who have what I need, who might be open to gaining a lead over their opponents by betting right, by having some information provided to them earlier.

I ask them to do certain things, to open up gaps in security cordons, to provide aid. When we get down to the brass tacks, I tap into my Skills. Forced Link with System Edit and Shackles of Eternity to cross the gap between them and me, riding along the communication and control lines of the Administrative Center. It�s a pain and I do it only a few times, but it�s sufficient to lock down the help. They might be able to break my Skills, but there�s so little time that it doesn�t matter. I don�t bet on any single person anyway.

All of that is ancillary, things that are done while I work on the truly important aspect of my plan�leveling my Junior Administrator Class. I spend hours Leveling via the ticketing board. I pick my tickets with more care now, finding ones that might have something to teach me. That are more than just simple patches. The ones that give the most experience.

I find tickets to help create programs to fix minor tickets, to build processes to sort and fix regular issues. I spend interminable hours building the programs, debugging its code, and spitting blood when I overdraw System Mana. Eventually, I release the program as a completed solution.

Even more hours are spent debugging the program as it runs into more unforeseen issues and interactions. I untangle the snarl of error codes and new tickets when my program runs into other automated solutions, recode priority signals, trim down my program in its scope, and save the hacked code for future use. I delete other programs and incorporate their functions into mine.

Hours, interminable hours, when I eat on the move, pacing, lounging in the air, then snapping to attention as a solution comes to me. Reworking strings of Mana, watching my hands tremble, bleed, and crisp as my vision doubles or triples while Mana ravages my body and code refuses to function as I wish.

Never-ending hours working base tickets to understand what I did wrong, what I needed to learn. Gaining experience, fixing problems, and finishing ticket after ticket.

Levels fly past me, as do days, and when I release the program, I receive another surge of experience. A surge of gratitude as it goes to work with minimal errors. Immediately, the program begins the process of cleaning up snarled processes, conflicting Skills, and more.

My Level as a Junior Administrator climbs again, overtaking my Level as a Grand Paladin. It jumps as I�m gifted experience for the final program, but not for the tickets it solves. Annoying, but understandable.

As I Level, additional Skill points arrive, only to be allocated just as quickly. There�s a bare moment of anger at the loss, at the lack of options given. Then I shove it aside, for I know now which is the greater Skill.

When my body cannot take anymore, when even my will and drive is insufficient to push me further into the jaws of System Mana as it shreds my body and soul repeatedly, I sit and meditate. I find my center, and I contemplate the fight. I investigate the dregs of Kasva�s Affinity, query my feelings and the System for what it logged. I pull at my own Affinity and pit it against my memory of the battle, searching for a solution.

Then I experiment on my own body.

I bleed. I tear. I burn. I scream and roll across the floor in pain. But I inch toward a solution, an understanding of a counter. In the near-timeless space of the Administrative Center, in the safety of Leveling, coding, and experimentation, I find what could be a solution.

And when I�m healed, when the Mana overflow is cleansed and my mind restored, I get back to coding. I throw myself back into the flood of Mana and swim, doing the best I can to make my way to the source, to an answer.

Endless days before the timer I set finally goes off. Weeks, maybe months within the unchanging world of the Administrative Center before Mikito contacts me, letting me know its time. The chaos we created in the outer world has died down and the vote is finally going to go through. No longer can I hide. No longer can we wait.

I clean myself up using Cleanse, setting the System to wash away the grime and the clues of my residence within the Center. I have the System help me with that, cleansing log and data sets. Then I change, dressing in my armor, my weapons.

As I leave, I glance at my Status Screen, grinning maniacally at what I see there. Because there have been a few changes, some of which I�m sure the System and the other Administrators would be less than impressed with.

Status Screen

Name

John Lee

Class

Junior System Admin (Grand Paladin)

Race

Human (Male)

Level

16 (12)

Titles

Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter, Corrupt Questor, (Living Repository), (Class Lock)

Health

6300

Stamina

6300

Mana

6350

Mana Regeneration

479 (+5) / minute

Attributes

Strength

448

Agility

521

Constitution

630

Perception

435

Intelligence

635

Willpower

574

Charisma

225

Luck

296

Class Skills

Mana Imbue

Blade Strike*

Thousand Steps

Altered Space

Two are One

The Body�s Resolve

Greater Detection

A Thousand Blades*

Soul Shield*

Blink Step

Portal*

Army of One

Sanctum

Penetration

Aura of Chivalry

Eyes of Insight

Beacon of the Angels

Eye of the Storm

Vanguard of the Apocalypse

Society�s Web

Shackles of Eternity*

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force*

Domain

Judgment of All

(Grand Cross)

(2)

(Extra Hands)

(3)

System Edit

External Class Skills

Instantaneous Inventory

Frenzy

Cleave

Tech Link

Elemental Strike

1 (Ice)

Shrunken Footsteps

Analyze

Harden

Quantum Lock

Elastic Skin

Disengage Safeties

Temporary Forced Link

Hyperspace Nitro Boost

On the Edge

Fates Thread

Combat Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Greater Regeneration (II)

Greater Healing (II)

Mana Drip (II)

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Enhanced Lightning Strike (III)

Firestorm

Polar Zone

Freezing Blade

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

Elemental Walls (Fire, Ice, Earth, etc.)

Ice Blast

Icestorm

Improved Invisibility

Improved Mana Cage

Improved Flight

Haste

Enhanced Particle Ray

Variable Gravitic Sphere

Zone of Denial

But that�s their problem.

***

To my surprise, I don�t find Mikito waiting for me outside. Only Ali stands there, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor, rotund belly pushing against his orange jumpsuit. I idly note that it seems to have shifted slightly, looking more like a onesie than a jumpsuit. Seeing my attention, Ali growls and wills it back to its normal configuration.

�Miss me?� I say, walking forward. That he stands at his full height, dwarfing me, makes me kind of amused.

�Who�d miss a Goblin-loving, toad-warming Mana-crystal waste like you?� Ali says. He waits for me to pass by before he floats, shrinking as he does so such that he finds his place at my shoulder once more.

�Perhaps a socially inept Spirit?� I say. �Did you get what I asked for done?�

�I contacted them. Still waiting to hear back from the Dragon Lord, but the other arrangements, well�� A flash of uncertainty crosses his bearded face. �You sure?�

�I am.� Whatever doubts I have, I�ve let them die. It�s the best solution I can find, even if it�s one that no one will be happy with. Not even me.

We make our way out of the building and see the sky filled with puffy pink-shaded clouds for the first time in ages. I spot Mikito, standing at ease out there.

�The arrangements?� I ask.

�Completed,� Mikito says. �If you want this to work though, you�re going to need to start producing your Hands. We lost all of them days ago.�

I nod, calling forth my Skill. Mana pulses through me, rippling outward to touch the space beside me. What pops out is a replica of myself. A few short words, and he�s off to keep an eye on our next guests while I turn to Mikito.

�Thank you. Did you have fun out here?� I say, gesturing around.

In the distance, I see the mounds of flies, the shifting corpses of monsters that Mikito has killed. Small�and not so small�scavengers tear at the corpses, eating their fill. Thankfully, the System wipes the smell well before it reaches us.

�It was productive,� she says.

I grin, eyeing her Status.

Mikito Sato, Spear of Humanity, Blood Warden, Junior Arena Champion of Irvina, Arena Champion�Orion IV, Xumis,�; Time Slipped, True Bound Honor (Upper Samurai Level 42) (M)

HP: 4818/4818*

MP: 3657/3657*

Conditions: Isoide, Jin, Rei, Meiyo, Ishiki, Ryoyo, Feudal Bond, Blitzed, Future Projections

Galactic Reputation: 84

Galactic Fame: 38,983

�So it seems.� A pair of Levels might not seem much, but at the amount of XP she needs to Level, it�s considerable.

�Oh, the second Level was when you walked out.� Mikito�s eyes glint with amusement. �I think there�s a bug between the Bond and your dual Classes.�

That would make sense. I could even check and fix it. But in this case, I�m just going to leave well enough alone. We need every advantage we can get, and her leeching experience from both of my Classes whenever I get experience works. I just have to hope no one fixes the issue.

I could take the ticket and mark it as being worked upon. But considering I�m persona non grata to the rest of the Administrators, that might make the issue even more obvious and highlight it for others. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

�John?� Mikito draws my attention back. �Are you sure about this?�

I meet her concerned gaze and consider what I told her. What she now knows and what I haven�t mentioned. In the end, I can�t help but nod.

�Yes. I have to do this,� I say softy. �And we�ll need all their help. Just� make sure they�re ready to run.�

My words are punctuated by the whine of an engine and the gusts of blowing wind as a plane, with giant rotating motors encased within oval shields, arrives. Four swirling propellers on each corner, on top of a sleek vehicle and jet engines at the back land the plane straight down, landing struts deploying just before they touch the ground. A door rolls open and a familiar trio waves to us from within the vehicle. Other unfamiliar faces peer from behind, all of them looking to spot their idol.

�Then it�s best we get going,� Mikito says, walking over and waving back to her fan club, closely followed by myself. My doppelganger is already in the vehicle, scanning for trouble, mask down to hide his features. �We�ve got a friend to rescue. And a vote to gatecrash.�

***

They keep Harry in a secret prison, one off the books. They want to interrogate him, pull out information about where I am. And, probably, set it up as a lure for when I come to rescue him like the fool I am. Considering he�s a Galactic Reporter, his capture is currently a closely held secret, one they don�t want getting out. He has protections in his role that they�re ignoring, for now.

Which is an advantage for us. Because the problem with secret bases is that you can only put so many people within and still keep it innocuous. Of course, teleportation pads and quick scramble units alleviate some of those issues, but it means on-site, the number of personnel�enemy combatants�are low.

Relatively speaking.

Then again, there�s also the additional problem of Levels. A single Legendary could make our lives truly miserable, which is where having an inside man�or in this case, Dragon�helps.

We�re two-thirds of the way to the prison, joining the air traffic that dominates the skies above Irvina, when we get the call.

�The meeting is called,� the Lady says. It�s a video call, though it is of little use since her background is shrouded in shadow, leaving only her breathtaking beauty to be seen. For a lady known for being the most secretive, she really does like to preen. �Our mutual friend will handle the Council. Now, about the information��

�I set up a message drop. Don�t worry, it won�t ever not release. It comes through my specific skill set.� I�m not exactly certain I want to speak about my special Class in public. There�s not a lot of privacy in this ship. �It�ll arrive after the vote. So long as you do your part.�

�Very well. Everything you�ve asked for, so long as you complete your objectives, will be in play.� The Lady shares a small smile with me. It�s a cute smile, almost endearing, as if she�s a little child with a secret that she cannot wait to share. �You know, such confrontations, they�re rarely my thing.�

I open my hands sideways. �It�s always nice to change things up, isn�t it?�

As she smiles in approval, I flick my hands and dismiss the communications channel. I turn to Mikito, eyeing the swarm of fan club members around her. It�s a surprising number, but the three have been hard at work, pooling the locals�in terms of a solar system�into Irvina. Just over two and a half dozen individuals, most of them in the late Basic to mid-Advanced Class stages. No Master Classes though, not yet.

There are more fans, from what Mikito and Ali tell me. But being a new fan club, it�s still building. Most of those who follow her, at the level of adoration given like these guys, are at the lowest Levels. Give her another decade or two and if she continues winning, the numbers and Levels might be quite different.

That being said, I turn to the group and grin. �All right, you guys. When we get there, leave the big boys to us.�

A small gesture from Ali and a slew of notification windows appear for everyone. Among other things, the Lady has dropped off information about who exactly is on guard, as well as their backup plans and reinforcements. Using that information, we adjust our plans to remove some of those distractions, which is why we need my doppelgangers.

�Your job is dealing with the regular administrative and security personnel and intercepting any additional security that arrives. There are also at least two other prisoners. One of them, we want to free. If you can, get it out.�

I think of the information about the first prisoner. Political rather than criminal, the picture Ali displays is of a bright bug-like creature who�s another sapient from a nearby galaxy. He was reported disappeared by the powers-in-charge of his planet just over half a year ago. As a contender for planetary governorship, his disappearance meant that his opponent achieved reelection with minimal fuss.

Hopefully his release and escape will engender a level of gratitude that will help the fan club, as well as add to the chaos. Of course, I�m not betting on it, but it�s a nice side benefit.

�And the second?� a voice calls from the back of the crowd.

�Kill him.�

There is a susurration of whispered words at my blunt statement. But it�s cut off when Agr�us gets to the personnel file of the second prisoner.

His exclamation silences the craft. �That�s the Flayer of F�fauheok.�

�Impossible. I heard he was in the Rusanox sector.� Another voice, among the crowd.

�No, he�s dead,� Ruvuds says, his tone doubtful.

�You�re wrong. The Leontine Gris caught him, tore his arm off. But he escaped using the Skill Blast Off. After that, he had it regenerated��

I listen to the hubbub, the conversations as they argue about one of the galaxy�s most notorious mass killers. The Flayer was a homicidal maniac crossed with the Joker and a Friday night horror flick, all squished into one insane package. The fact that he gained strength not only from the atrocities he committed, but from the fame he gained, drove him to higher stages of violence.

It was kind of worrying, the way the Council had him locked away. I�m sure there are a load of reasons why. Whole conspiracy theories, ready to be born out of that single fact. If it was any other time, I might even try spinning some of them myself. I�m sure Harry will, when we free him. But for now, the more important aspect is�

�Oy! I said kill him, not become his fan club.�

You would think I�d shot their dog, the way I spoke. They glare at me, though some are chagrined. It�s amusing, the way they interact with me. Mikito, they adore and listen to without thought. Me, I�m either considered her Lord or her abuser, depending on who you ask.

At the glares, I�m tempted to continue insulting them, just to get a rise. To pick a fight I know I can. It�s the part of me that isn�t particularly nice, which I try not to indulge. Too much.

Before things can devolve further, Mikito elbows me in the side and I force an apologetic grin around the wince.

�Best make another Hand, boy-o,� Ali reminds me as we dip out of the clouds nearby a new building.

My first Hand has already moved to stand by, readying himself to leave.

The first part of a plan is getting prepped right now. And as always, with any of my plans, it involves a healthy dose of violence.

***

Step one is dropping off the pair of doppelgangers. They know what I plan to do, mostly because I told the System�and Mikito�the breakout plan already. The doppelgangers know they�re headed off to die�which, by the way, elicited a few nasty looks from them to me. I�m beginning to wonder about the moral implications of all this, even though I know they�re not really real. Still, a part of me doesn�t feel great about this.

But needs must, and right now, the gates of hell have been thrown open and the hungry ghosts are coming. Better to get moving and to stay out of the water rather than concern myself if this is perfect.

As my last Hand walks away, blending into the crowd around the rooftop parking spot, the plane takes off again and we jet over to the prison. We can�t land too close, but there�s a useful training center in a nearby skyscraper�one geared toward newbies. They had been more than happy to receive a last-minute group booking to learn the art of survival scavenging.

�Welcome to Mioga Dosa Training Center.� The snake monster greeter slithers up to us, iridescent purple and green scales glistening as it hisses its greeting. Its lips widen as it arcs up, thin arms held open and wide. �If you�ll come this way, we have the virtual training room��

�Thanks� Chad.� I blink as I read the Trainer�s name. I feel a weird sense of vertigo at the name before pushing it aside. �But we�ve got other plans. Just let us park the ship here for the moment and we�ll be out of your hair.�

Chad blinks�vertical eyelids snapping shut and open�as it takes in the team streaming out. Clad in full combat gear, weapons out, they head to their assigned locations, streaming to elevators, stairs, and in a few cases, shooting locations.

�I�m sorry. Your booking doesn�t include a terrorist incident,� Chad says, drawing himself up. �If you don�t vacate our premises, I will be forced to contact the authorities.�

�As if you haven�t tried,� Ali says, floating up and wagging his fingers at Chad. �Good thing I blocked you. And your friends.� He shakes his head. �We�ve deployed a communication router. Also, if you haven�t realized it, take a good, close look at boy-o over here.�

Chad stares at me then looks up, spotting my revealed Status. He rears back, mouth dropping open as he hisses, fangs dropping in surprise. His hands drop next as he readies himself to attack or defend.

Mikito appears next to Chad, moving so fast she�s almost teleporting. She hits him with a series of short, quick jabs and elbow strikes that chain together, taking his health down and putting him in a stunned Status. Another series of blows and a Skill use and he drops, unable to do anything.

�I thought we were trying this without violence,� I complain even as fan club members drag Chad�s body aside.

�We did. You failed.� Mikito points at the floor and the floors below. �Now come on, we�re on a schedule.�

Shaking my head, I follow Mikito as she leads the alpha strike team. It�s kind of different, having her take charge, but this is her fan club and her plan. I just gave her the overall objectives and passed on information. The details of the execution are hers.

By the time we hit the skybridge that connects to our target�a series of condos set in the middle of the skyscraper opposite us�the first part of the plan has kicked off. We get to watch it all, since Ali has a news feed playing next to him, set to display for the team.

� a familiar figure, striding across the ballroom floor. A hand rises and clenches, and people going for him fall. Bodyguards scream and curl up, private security shields flare and crash as Judgment for All takes effect. The diplomat, one of the ones known to be against Earth and a prime instigator due to his ties with the Zarry Cartel, starts bleeding. Even as the alarms go off, emergency personnel punch through the cheap dimension lock that the dimension stabilizer the Hand carries emits. Weapons are drawn and fired, but the Hand isn�t staying still, moving through the group with his swords, cutting and dicing.

Another screen, another video of destruction.

This time, it�s the Beacon of the Angels striking the living tree that houses this target. Shields gleam and glimmer as they fight off the attack, even as the Hand continues to cast Beacons and strike with his sword. Automated defenses open fire upon the Hand, but the evolved Penetration Skill shield holds up easily, giving the Hand more than enough time to dish out damage.

More guards, more emergency personnel scramble. And fall right into his trap, as the Hand triggers Judgment for All, killing them and adding to his shield. He stops for a bit, just using his sword and striking the shield with it as he regenerates his own Mana, tossing out the occasional nanoswarm grenade to reduce the shield regeneration rate.

The Hands draw emergency security personnel with their brazen attacks. Sadly, they only manage to draw away one of the six teams that ring our target. The rest of the reinforcements come from other locations. Still, it�s better than our expectations of none, though nowhere as good as what we hoped.

The interception teams slide into place around the buildings as we arrive at the skybridge joining the two buildings.

One of the fan club members, dressed like a cyberpunk-ninja with wires and glowing dots along her head and arms, finishes the hack of the security systems just in time, killing the forward alerts. That doesn�t do much for the physical sentries who spot us and attempt to raise their friends.

The scouts who are part of the vanguard are already across the bridge, having either walked across innocuously or invisibly. They launch their backstabs as the guards scramble, even while those of us in the main group keep strolling forward. The scouts and guards enter into a short, bloody brawl. Made even shorter when the rest of the vanguard arrives and adds their burst attacks.

As for me? I�m stuck in the middle of the group, watching as the fan club sweeps ahead like a well-practiced special forces team. Even Ali�s busier than I am, doing his best to block off System notifications and communication channels, aiding the comm team. Mikito, the three musketeers, and a number of other fan club members are all around me, blocking my way.

My fingers twitch. I�m eager to step in and do something. I feel the System notifications, the buzzing of System Mana flowing all around me. I could reach out, Edit the information and Skills, kill notifications and reduce Mana regeneration rates. I could help.

But I hold back, because this is not the time.

�Relax, we have this,� Mikito murmurs. �And try to look a little more confident.�

�I am relaxed,� I bite out.

�Really?� Mikito looks downward, where I�m white-knuckling my sword. I make it disappear, feeling guilty, while explosions and screams echo toward us. �They really do have this.�

�A bunch of Basic and Advance Classers?� I raise an eyebrow. �You know the guards are mostly Advanced Classers, right?�

�Yes. But we have numbers, surprise, and skill on our side,� Vrasceids says, joining the conversation from where he walks beside me. �The only way to gain our Samurai Class was to reset ourselves. We are all, significantly, more experienced than our Levels would indicate.�

Each step takes us deeper into the rising skyrise, its defenses broken. Smoking bodies, struggling figures are all around us, appearing and disappearing as we walk past them. The alpha team, my group, peels off at intervals, joining fights as necessary.

�Levels aren�t the only gauge of strength,� Mikito says sniffily. �As you should know.�

�Skill, not Skill, eh?� It�s true enough that she has kept up with me through all this by displaying more skill than Levels. Still, Levels are an absolute unit of strength that is hard to overcome. Almost impossible at the highest tiers.

�Also�� Mikito grins, shifting her stance slightly. Hitoshi appears in her hand even as her Haste Skill triggers and wraps itself over her body, shrouding her in a cloak of Mana. Then, Blitzed. She leaves behind a garbled message as she blinks away, leaving me alone. �Theyhaveme.�

I watch her leave before I turn to the remnants of the alpha team who have been left behind to guard our retreat. It�s only Vrasceids and the cyber-samurai now, the other pair of musketeers in charge of their own strike teams.

�You not going?� I ask.

�We have other orders,� Vrasceids says, his pale-green-and-black gills flaring open and closed as he tastes the air.

My eyes narrow even as the continuing screams, the shouts, and the addition of a high-pitched whine as Hitoshi comes out to play echo through the building. Explosions, the telltale shattering of tiles as people lose control of their Strength, the smashing of walls and the pop-hiss of failed shields all tell a story of combat around us.

�Hells doors. You�re babysitting me, aren�t you?�

We pass through the entrance foyer, blasted and torn, and turn toward the fighting in a marked corridor. Upstairs, more fighting occurs, the battles more contained as the beta strike teams slide in from above to deal with the office and off-duty personnel who reside there.

Vrasceids�s face is smooth, calm at my irritation. �I would not describe our duties like that.�

�Maybe not, but that�s what it is.� I close my eyes and touch upon Society�s Web. I follow the threads that reach out from me, watching the way certain threads hidden from normal sight appear under my System Edit Skill. Threads that I know lead to certain high-ranking members of the Galactic Council.

But one thread isn�t shadowed. It shifts and strikes at another, a more personal thread. My Hand disappears, and I watch as the green-and-red thread that leads toward Kasva shifts, intent on dealing with the next Hand.

�We better get moving,� I say, opening my eyes again. �We just lost one of my Hands.�

Vrasceids�s eyes flick up, noting something, then he nods. �Yes, Shogun. Lord Mikito has been informed.�

I snort, but we both shut up and hurry forward. To join the fight or free the prisoners. Whichever comes first.

***

�Harry. You�ve looked better,� I say, grinning at the reporter.

I cast a Cleanse to punctuate the point, wiping the dirt, blood, and snot from his body. The dark-skinned British reporter is gaunt, seeming to have lost thirty pounds in the two weeks we�ve been gone. He�s clad in prison garb�yellow clothing with stripes of green and grey�meant to restrict his Mana regeneration and leave him in a low Mana state.

Harry Prince, the Unfiltered Eye, Galactic Investigative Reporter�Barium Level, the Unvarnished Truth, Heroic Survivor, Friend of the Erethran Empire,� (Galactic Correspondent Level 19) (M)

HP: 174/780

MP: 21/2740

Conditions: Reporter�s Luck, Nose for Trouble, Just a Bystander, Information Locus, Network News�Barium Grade, Mana Withdrawal (Severe)

�Let�s get you changed, shall we?� I touch his arm, ignoring the protests from Vrasceids and Harry.

The man flinches away from me, and I try not to take it personally. But I keep a tight grip on Harry�s arm as I access the prison garb�s Status, bypassing the automated pain deployment, shutting down its alarm system, and deactivating the suit via my System Edit Skill.

�You shouldn�t be doing that,� Ali says disapprovingly. He can�t see me using my System Edit Skill, it�s locked from him, but he can sense the changes in my body.

Even as the Spirit speaks, Harry is breathing deeply as Mana floods back into him for the first time in a long while. His health climbs once more, as does his Mana regeneration.

�Am I� am I really free?� he says, his voice cracking.

�Yes.�

I�m not even done speaking when Harry is peeling at the clothing, ripping it off his body and leaving furrows in his own skin. He hisses as he tears it off, portions of his skin coming free as embedded nanospikes tear open wounds, but he doesn�t stop. Not even when he is bathed by healing spells that Vrasceids throws on him, forcing wounds to close just so that the reporter doesn�t inadvertently kill himself.

It�s only when he�s down to his skivvies that Harry stops, holding the tattered remnants of the prison garb before him to ask hesitantly, �You didn�t bring any clothing for me, did you?�

�Just grab it from your inventory,� I say.

Harry winces, muttering. I only barely catch it. �They took it from me. Everything I ever stored.�

My fists clench as I realize I didn�t plan ahead for that. Thankfully, someone did. Vrasceids hands over an armored jumpsuit sized for the reporter. In short order, the rest of us exit the small cell to offer Harry some privacy as he gets dressed.

We step out in time for us to watch the political prisoner�s swishing behind leave. And for Mikito to step out of another cell, holding the head of the Flayer. Behind her, one of her clan members stumbles out, clutching a missing third arm stump.

�Harry?� she asks, looking toward the cell. Her Blitz is gone, since most of the fighting is over, though she�s still Hasted. She breaks into a wide smile as Harry walks out.

I turn just in time to see the reporter�s jaw drop as he spots the head Mikito holds.

�Is that�?� Harry says, focused.

�Yes.� She walks over and hands him the head, which he takes automatically. A moment later, she�s put away Hitoshi to give Harry a hard hug. �Sorry.�

�For what?� Harry says awkwardly as he juggles being hugged and holding a severed head. Luckily, Mikito doesn�t care about being splashed with the blood. �And what am I supposed to do with this?�

�Whatever you want,� I say. �But we should move. That�s two.�

My pronouncement robs Mikito of the momentary joy of reunion, as it does the fan club. They offer muttered assurances to Harry, and the minimap dots move in hurried but controlled haste. We all hustle, dragging Harry along after he rechristens his empty inventory with the severed head.

Somehow, this has gone much better than expected thus far. Which means things will go to hell some time soon. For now though, we have Harry and are on the way to the second part of our plan.

As we run, I cast Extra Hands again, drawing forth another friend to leave for Kasva to play with when he arrives.

Held in Vrasceid�s arms, Harry wails as we drag him out of his prison. �Two what!?!�

Chapter 21

The slap cracks across my face, not budging my face but making Katherine shake her hand in pain after the strike. A moment later, she�s nearly screaming into my face. �What the hell are you doing?�

�Getting Harry back. And tilting the odds,� I reply calmly.

We�re in the lower edges of the sewers, a hidden meeting area offered to us by the Lady of Shadows that she guarantees none will be watching. Except perhaps her. But I don�t call her out on that.

See? I can learn when not to annoy my allies.

�Are you insane? Your Hands are causing widespread destruction throughout the city. You might have killed a couple of diplomats, but you�ve just earmarked Earth and humanity as deranged killers who have no respect for diplomatic norms!� Katherine shouts, utterly furious. �Why didn�t you check with me or Rob?�

�I didn�t have time. And I also knew you woudn�t agree to this,� I say. �But this is necessary.�

�Rob was right. You really are a loose cannon.� Katherine shakes her head with disgust. �Even if we win this vote, we won�t win the next one. Did you consider that?�

A part of me wants to quail under the disgust she exhibits. I push it aside, reminding myself of my goals. The point of what I intended to do today. �I did. And we don�t have a lot of time before the vote. So I�m going to be blunt.�

Katherine braces herself, casting her gaze toward Mikito, who stands guard a short distance away, and Harry, who is being brought up to speed by Ruvuds in the corner.

I flick my fingers, bringing Katherine�s attention back to me. �I need you to give me your proxy.�

�What!?!�

�Your voting proxy,� I say. �Give it to me.�

�No! Why would I do that?�

�Because if you don�t, you�ll die?� I say, cocking an eyebrow. �As you said, you�re persona non grata. Earth and humanity. If you try to show up, they�ll kill you.�

�I�m protected.�

�I�m pretty sure they don�t care anymore.� I gesture around, taking in the world around and all the hell that has gone on. �Or do you think it�s worth the risk?�

�How about you? You�re even more wanted than me,� Katherine says. �Wait, were you planning to force my hand?�

�No.� Then, reluctantly, I add. �Not exactly. I have other reasons for what I did, but forcing you to give me the proxy is a lucky coincidence of sorts. More like a� conjunction of interest?�

My search for the right terms makes Katherine hiss again before she stalks away. I watch as she strides around in a circle, windmilling her hands. Her lips move, uttering breathless imprecations as she forces herself to calm.

Eventually, she returns to me. We do need to try to adjust the vote, no matter what she thinks. �How do you intend to survive going to the chambers?�

�Can�t say.� When Katherine�s eyes narrow, I point upward. �They might be listening. But trust me, they might try to end me. But you might have realized, I�m really hard to kill.�

�He�ll be there.�

�Kasva?� I nod. �Maybe. I can take him.� The look she gives me is full of doubt, making me chuckle darkly. �Don�t worry. I have a plan.�

�Like the last one? Do you know how much chaos our information release caused on the Galactic scene? They don�t know, but many suspect it was us who released that information.� Katherine�s eyes go distant, dark as a cloud of grief shadows her face. �The number of deaths among the powers that be have increased fourfold. A half dozen wars started in the last week alone. When they finally learn who caused this, there will be hell to pay.�

�But it improved our odds, no?� Her silence is answer enough for me. �It has to be done. And trust me, I have a plan. Now, the proxy, Katherine. I need it.�

�And if I say no?� she says.

�Don�t.�

�And if I say no?�

I meet her stubborn gaze, wondering what it is with damn obstinate, bull-headed women in my life. I look over my shoulder at Mikito, who gives me a small nod, acknowledging I�ve tried.

I clench my fist and whisper, �Don�t make me take it.�

�You can�t�� She stares at my eyes and breathes out slowly. �You can, can�t you?�

I nod.

�What have you done?�

�Just found a few answers,� I say. �The proxy?�

Katherine searches my eyes. I let her, curious what it is that she�s looking for. Or if what she seeks is still there. The man who left Earth with her was many years and even more lives shed ago. Sometimes, I�m not sure there�s much of that man left.

�Promise me something,� she says.

�What?�

�That you�ll not harm Earth. Whatever you do with the proxy, make sure it�s for the best for Earth.�

I offer her a nod, and when it�s not enough, I speak the promise out loud. I know she�s using a Skill, verifying the truth of what I say. Just another Diplomat Skill.

When she�s assured of my intentions, Katherine presses an arm upon my chest. Light glows for a second, and a new notification appears.

Earth Voting Proxy given to John Lee, Redeemer of the Dead (Galactic Paladin Level 12)

�Thank you,� I say, bowing my head. I know how much that cost Katherine, and there�s a look in her eyes, a pained look of broken trust that tells me I might have burnt my bridges here. �And I�m sorry.�

I look at Mikito, who�s sneaked up behind Katherine. The Diplomat�s eyes widen, just briefly, before Mikito hits her, striking so fast and hard it bypasses her safeguards and knocks her out.

�How long?� I say, laying down the unconscious woman I caught.

�Long enough.�

Harry, who just watched us knock out our friend, raises his voice, his voice shaking between outrage and fear. �What the hell is going on?�

***

We explain the plan to Harry as we hurry off, leaving Katherine to sleep off the attack. At least, enough that he stops hyperventilating and agrees to carry out his part. He�s kind of important. Not linchpin, but close enough that if he disagrees, it�d make our job more difficult.

Maintenance tunnels carry us deep into the first circle of Irvina. Security clearances provided to us by the Lady of Shadows help get us through the security checkpoints. I leave just enough of a trail with System Edit that when people come and look later, it�ll seem I Edited my way through.

We keep moving, the original trio of fan club members the only ones left with Harry, Mikito, and me. The others have dispersed, headed out of the city, off the planet, and preferably out of the sector. Many have plans to go to Earth, offered refugee status and a chance to Level and soak up Japanese culture.

I�m a little annoyed that Mikito�s got all the fans, but I can see which one of us is a better ambassador for humanity�s culture. Not to say Harry or Katherine don�t have their own fans, but in a world filled with violence like this, it�s no surprise that the ass-kickers are the major draws.

There are others of course, individuals who have made it out to the Galactic universe. Some of them have taken on public personas, promoting themselves and Earth. The singer who brings our pop culture to the galaxy. Matisse Bien, who vacillates between taking part in virtual movies and joining teams as a pinch-hitter, acting out his role when necessary. Of course, it�s not as good as having an actual healer or ranged attack or crowd control member, but method acting gives him close enough approximation of Skills and abilities that teams desperately in need of a specific role make do.

There�s the XI Legion, who�d been camped in the middle of France during the initiation, reenacting their little Roman wars. Clad in full combat armor, they�d been one of the more powerful group forces in Western Europe for a time. Of course, they also hired themselves out to the Movana, but we won�t discuss that portion of their betrayal. In the end, they shipped off Earth long before I did, taking part in clan wars and dungeon clearances where a Legion of Adventurers were required.

There were others: the Hoodoo Doctor, the Operator, the Gurkha. Individuals who�ve gained notoriety on the Galactic circuit, just like us, and so have gained fans both at home and in the wider Galactic sphere. Still more humans move through Galactic society without creating a major ripple, affecting only individuals.

Just as most galactics do in the end.

That�s the thing about celebrity, about fame. It strikes once and you might burn bright for a time, but it�ll fade just as easily in a series of accusations, of bad decisions. It eludes those who desire it and is gifted to those who seek it not.

Knowing that, I realize there�s no real point in being jealous of Mikito. It is what it is, and I�ve got bigger fish to fry.

�Is this route going to bring us to the Galactic Council building?� Harry asks as he cranes his head around, staring at the underground tunnels. �I thought the main entrance is above ground.�

Ali answers, floating over to Harry. �No. The Council building has multiple entrances set up just for cases like us.�

�Us?�

�Individuals who are in trouble with multiple groups.� Ali smirks. �The right to vote is quite sacrosanct among them all.�

�Doesn�t that mean that they�re probably waiting for us here?� Harry says, frowning. It�s the obvious conclusion after all.

�Probably,� Ali says, making Harry blanch.

In the corner of the minimap, I see we�re getting somewhat close to the building. In a couple hundred meters, give or take a few crossings and turns, our particular path will intercept the main routes. Idly, I wonder how many other diplomats are making use of the underground tunnels today.

�Well!?!� Harry says, waving his hands around. �We�re just going to walk straight into a trap?�

�Not exactly.� Mikito looks at me and I shrug, so she continues. �We all have enchantments to make us look different. Security clearances should also get us past the automated sentries.�

�And their Skills?� Harry says.

�We�ve got that covered too,� I say.

Or at least I think so. Of course, the reporter isn�t letting it lie just like that, but it�s not as if I�m that interested in answering his questions, so we keep walking. Mikito and Ali are happy to do their best to reassure Harry, providing him the various pieces of enchanted equipment we�ve acquired for this. It mollifies him a bit, but not all the way. More importantly, we keep him guessing and irritated, drip-feeding him information.

It�s not that we want to torture him, but we can all sense Harry�s a little on the fragile side, the torture and interrogation having driven him past what should normally be his breaking point. He�s still holding it together, but only by sheer willpower.

Making him irritated, making him angry, gives him something to focus on while we forge ahead. And more importantly, if he knew the plan, I�m not sure he�d agree to it. Even though it�s mostly safe. I feel a little guilt at what I�m doing, but there�s no time to placate him, make him see the reasoning. The need. So I�m going with trickery.

As we finally reach the end of the corridor, we take the first left at the T-branch. Ahead, voices can be heard�grumbling voices and one rather annoyingly high-pitched one. The group turns and stares at me. The kid who we�ve been trying to get an Advanced Class for stands in the middle.

�Redeemer.� His father, the Cafire Representative, is the one who speaks, his voice low. �Are you sure this will work?�

The Cafire�s group are similar in looks, creatures that look like the devils of Earth�s Christian mythology. Red skin, black horns, a long, pointed tail. The full works. Unlike the other one we once met, they don�t speak in iambic pentameter.

�Of course.� I walk forward while Ali grows in size, tugging Hary along behind.

�You said that the last time,� Yorera, the father, says.

�That�s right. You keep saying you�ll get it, but you keep failing,� Xirera, the kid, says. �And we can�t fight in here. Not without drawing attention.�

�You don�t need to.� I reach sideways, extracting a set of manacles from my inventory. These came from the Weaver, delivered to Mikito while I was trapped. Runic engravings cover the manacles, and even to my Mana sense, which I�ve tuned down, they glow in the shielded passageway. �Just put these on us.�

�John�� Harry raises his voice, eyes widening. Fear erupts from his voice, panic threatening to take him.

�You best start with him,� I say, gesturing to Harry.

�No!� Harry struggles, trying to pull away from Ali.

Before Harry can make off, Agr�us casts a spell, one that he�s been prepping for a bit. Harry ceases struggling, entering a dazed status.

�Trouble with your friends?� Yorera says.

�Nothing you have to worry about,� I say coldly. �Just get it done. Him first, then the rest of us.�

The kid with his scrawny appearance and flushed red skin takes the manacles off my hands and starts with Harry as requested. By the time Harry is able to pay attention, he�s manacled and his Mana is suppressed. Unlike the previous time though, he has a full Mana bar. He just isn�t able to activate any Skills.

�I can�t do this, John. Please don�t make me do this,� Harry says, his voice pleading now.

�It�s okay.� Mikito bumps him with her shoulder, offering him a half-smile. She has her hands out, waiting to be cuffed too. �We got this.�

�No, you don�t get it. We can�t, we don�t have any Skills. They�ll hurt us. Hurt me�� Harry�s beginning to hyperventilate.

I shoot a glance at Agr�us. He hits Harry with another spell, this one meant to calm his emotions rather than put him in a dazed Status. Harry stabilizes a bit, and while he�s stabilizing, Agr�us offers him a ring.

�What?� Harry says.

�Ring of Calm Emotions,� I say. �It�ll help. It only suppresses what you�re feeling, but it�ll help you get through this.�

It�s not the best option. In fact, there�s quite a bit of literature that shows things like that ring end up doing more damage in the long run than they help in the short term. But in specific circumstances, their use has been recommended. And in our case, we need it.

Manacles slide over wrists, one after the other. Each time, the kid hesitates as he waits for a notification, then he moves on, not getting one. By the time he gets to me, he�s looking less than enthused. When the heavy clunk of metal closing on my wrists echoes through the chambers, I reach into the System.

And find the notification that blossoms, telling me of my captured nature. I follow the Mana strand back, finding the node it arrived from, then down the strands that reach the kid. The manacles might block others, might stop most my other Skills, but System Edit isn�t blocked. We tested it, verified it before committing to this.

The child�s lips are turning down into a frown, disappointment crossing his flushed face, those glowing black and red eyes. He�s turning to complain to his father.

In the stretched moment that contains us both and the System Mana flooding into me, connecting us, I find the information that marks his actions, the collaring, and the multiple strands of information that verify his actions against Title acquisitions. I find the Title requirements, the little tick and check mark it searches for for the one we�re looking to get.

In that frozen moment, I make a few quick edits to his Status and the Title data. The System bucks as I manipulate it, hating what I do. It floods me back with error notifications, tickets and protests. In turn, I make adjustments further down the line, altering the kid�s fate a little to appease the System.

And then, I�m done.

I take a few extra seconds to make sure the alteration to the Title is locked to the kid, that it doesn�t cascade through the System, before pulling back. As time resumes its normal flow, the kid freezes. His eyes widen with surprise.

�Redeemer. Your promises are�� Yorera�s already gesturing for his guards to grab us, his tail lashing in anger.

Xirera cuts him off with a whoop. �I got it! I got it!�

�You did?� Yorera�s jaw drops, but he doesn�t stop the guards from gripping us as he pulls his son around. �Show me!�

The kid does, adjusting his notifications so his father can see it. None of us get to see it of course, but I don�t need to. I amended it myself, so I know what it says.

Title: Killer of Achilles

You�ve done what many would consider impossible. You�ve fought and beaten a Heroic while in your Basic Class. Such an act of heroism, fortitude, and foolhardiness will forever be marked upon your Status.

Effect 1: Access to certain Rare Classes. Increase in Reputation among certain factions. Decrease in Reputation among others.

Effect 2: +25% damage against those one Rank higher than you. +15% damage to those two Ranks higher than you. +10% damage to those three Ranks higher than you. +5 damage to those four Ranks higher than you.

Effect 3: +20% damage resistance

�The System�s beneficence. This is better than we expected,� Yorera says, reading the notification in detail. �You�ll definitely get a good Class now.�

Xirera can only bob his body in acknowledgement, vibrating with excitement. I keep silent, knowing his future, knowing the kind of Classes he�ll get. The ones I trimmed out so that I could make this work. A small part of me feels guilty, but I push it away knowing that he�s still bought one heck of an advantage. Just not the kind he thinks.

�Well, I guess I should make sure to carry out my side,� Yorera says, grinning and clapping me on the shoulder. And if there�s a little malice, a little greed in his eyes, well, it�s to be expected.

After all, he�s an Ambassador too.

�Come. We do not want to miss your vote.�

With those words and a few gestures, Yorera has his guards drag us to the Council building. Behind us, we leave Xirera, who is still vibrating with excitement and rereading his new Title, almost glowing with happiness.

***

We�re frog-marched through the corridors, our presence gaining more than a few raised eyebrows. There are questions asked, but we�ve put away our permits, passing by under Yorera�s security clearance now. He doesn�t stop, answering shouted questions with pleasant but useless nonsensical answers that give away nothing.

At our first major security checkpoint, we�re pulled aside and scanned for weaponry. The few that we carry outside of our inventory have already been taken by Yorera�s guards, held in their own inventory as a matter of course. The Council security check�s our faces and Statuses, pursing their lips as they find nothing in their database.

Which is by design. The enchantments that change our looks are boosted by the Lady to ensure we�re hidden. Of course, the lack of data engenders another round of questioning, but we stay silent while Yorera deflects the questions under the guise of Diplomatic Immunity.

As for the guards, they spend more time checking our manacles, only to mutter pleasant surprise when they read their details. I completely understand why, considering their quality.

Enchanted Manacles of Imprisonment (Master Class)

The problem of System-enabled individuals have long been considered and solved with the development of the Manacles of Imprisonment. Each set of manacles is as unique as its crafter, but they all suppress the usage of Skills while worn. Mana flow is inhibited, while Mana regeneration is directed into empowering the manacles themselves.

Effects: Skill Suppression, Spell: Powerful Suggestions, Spell: Lightning Grasp (Inactive), Spell: Sleep (Inactive)

Durability: 2300/2300

Satisfied that we�re well secured as prisoners, we�re passed through the security cordons with minimal fuss. As we journey deeper through the silver-covered hallways, they grow wider and wider as more diplomats and their bodyguards join the main thoroughfare.

Even if the session has already started�for quite a while now�being fashionably late and skipping out on the early morning, unimportant discussions is a time-honored tradition. But now, the Diplomats and Ambassadors are arriving for the afternoon session where actual bills of import are voted upon. And while only a portion of them might be coming in via the underground passages, when you�re looking at a portion of the over ten thousand plus worlds, it�s still a large number.

Of course, the actual Galactic Council isn�t just made up of ten thousand planets. There are a lot more. Between the hegemons, empires, and serf contracts, many planets either have no seat on the Council itself or have permanently handed over their voting rights. Leaving us with this mixture of planets that have their own seats by being independent, stubborn, vassal planets that refuse to give up their presence�even if they vote as directed�and multiple minor and major empires.

All in all, it�s a mess of a government system. Made more of a mess when the vast majority of the bills and other matters that are voted upon are ignored by non-signatories. It�s kind of like the UN, but with a lot less bite if you can imagine that.

Except when the Inner Council acts, of course. That�s when matters escalate, as the entire force of the Council and its bureaucracy take action. And for all its inadequacies, the empowerment of the System ensures that the occasional System-wide pronouncement and bill that do manage to pass can cause true havoc.

Like the creation of a Dungeon World.

As we pass and get side-eyed by the crowd, Harry grows increasingly paranoid and twitchy. Even the ring�a simple Advanced Class enchantment�is being overwhelmed by his growing panic.

I drop back, bumping him with my shoulder as I lower my voice. �Hold it together, old man.�

�We�re being frog-marched to our deaths as prisoners!� Harry hisses back.

�Well, at least there won�t be any more torture,� I say glibly. When humor doesn�t calm the reporter, I murmur, �It�s fine. I�ve got a plan.�

�Really? Does it take into account the fact that he�s going to betray us?� Harry says softly.

I grin at the reporter and he rolls his eyes. I don�t even mind the fact that Yorera looks back at us, his eyes narrowing. My grin is as much a warning for him as it is to assure Harry. That neither side seem reassured does make me a little sad, but it is what it is.

�You see, Harry, the problem is when someone is a devious, backstabbing bastard all the time, it becomes very predictable. Then it�s just a matter of figuring how you�re about to get backstabbed when you deal with them.� I pitch my voice relatively high, letting the guards around us hear me.

The really smart ones, the ones who are tasked with containing us if things go bad, look worried. Some of the guards shoot Yorera concerned glances, searching for a reaction from him. The alien continues to stride along confidently, playing as if he�s not heard a single word I said.

Truth be told, there are two major ways this could go. The first�if he keeps his promise�makes things a lot simpler. The second�if he does betray us�will make things much more complicated.

The first time this might happen is when we enter the main building, when security intensifies once more. Where there were a half dozen semi-bored guards going through the procedures at the other post, here there are over two score, each of them glaring at Diplomats and Ambassadors without a care. There�s even a change in their Classes.

Mook 1 (Loyal Council Guard Level 17) (A)

Mook 2 (Loyal Council Investigator Level 24) (A)

�

Mook 33 (Dedicated Council Lieutenant Level 27) (M)

Unsurprisingly, more than a dozen of the guards surround us the moment we make an appearance.

�Halt, Diplomat Yorera.� Mook 33 holds his hands down by his sides and up and sideways, barring the way. He can do that, what with having ten limbs�four legs and six hands, all crystalline outgrowth from his sea-foam-green and pink cystal body. �You have unauthorized prisoners with you. Judgment of Galactic Criminals are on the sixth configuration of the moons. It is only the twenty-third configuration currently.�

I feel Mana twitch as Skills trigger, putting us and the nearby guards under a privacy dome. It�s a powerful one that also blocks most access to the System. At least for us.

�These are special prisoners. The Council will be grateful to see them,� Yorera says. �I am invoking my right as a Diplomat under Treaty Clause 2567-891-53-c(ii).�

Mook 33�s eyes glaze over a little as he accesses the relevant section, before his lips press in disdain. �A once-a-decade option? Unusual.�

�These are unusual times,� Yorera says.

Before Mook 33 can say anything further, a guard�a shivering blob of pink and green slime�glops closer and burbles at the lieutenant. �They are under powerful disguise enchantments.�

The Skills the Slime-Mook uses cut through our physical disguises with ease. I�m not super surprised. They wouldn�t be guards here if they couldn�t do that much.

�Of course they are,� Yorera says, not even missing a beat. �Do you think I want my surprise spoiled?� He glares at the Slime-Mook, his voice lowering. �If not for the privacy screen, I would have your head for your indiscretion!�

�These people, they seem familiar,� Slime-Mook says.

A few of the other guards nod, and the lieutenant�s crystal body trembles. He cocks his head, waiting for one of his subordinates to say something.

Harry�s breathing speeds up, sweat dotting his skin, glistening like diamonds on obsidian sand. Mikito looks around as if she�s entirely unafraid, but I see the way she�s lowered her weight, angled her body ever so slightly. As for me? I just glare at everyone. And hope.

Famous as we might be, the Lady�s Skills are in play. She warps memory, databases, and the eleven senses of sapient creatures. Yes, eleven�because we�re talking about aliens and everything from tremor-sense, sonar, psychic, and aura senses come into play. And while most Skills affect some�but not all�of these senses, this is the Galactic Council�s headquarters. And guards with the full complement of sensing abilities and Skills are in play.

Without her, there�d be no way to sneak in. No way to get past them. Once more, we gamble everything on her Legendary Skill. And come out the winner. Because it is a Legendary Skill. And pointed in one direction, against a single planet? There�s nothing that can be done.

�Restricted,� Slime Mook finally speaks up.

The other guards nod, making the lieutenant�s eyes narrow. He gestures and the group close in on us. Yorera tries to protest, but it doesn�t matter, as the Cystalline Mook Lieutenant drags us all in the privacy bubble to a secure room.

Once we�re within, the Council Mooks move to the corners of the room, keeping an eye on us. Yorera�s guards stay in closer, hands on their weapons, smirking at us. Harry�s literally hyperventilating now, while Mikito is standing utterly still, waiting for her chance. The three musketeers keep themselves next to Harry. Their job is to keep him safe.

As for me, I watch Yorera, who has a calculating look in his eyes. Our chance of sneaking in has been broken by an obstinate guard, so I�m curious what Yorera will do.

The Crystal Lieutenant speaks first, eyes fixed upon Yorera. �I am invoking Council Security Protocol 158, section 83. All information in this room will be locked and safeguarded under Council Secrecy Protocols and will not be revealed for a thousand years. Now. Speak.�

Yorera shoots a look at me, visibly considering. Red skin flushes darker, turning almost deep scarlet red as his tail waves. Then he shrugs. �My apologies, Redeemer. This is not going to work.�

I watch as the Mooks freeze, surprise showing on their faces. Yorera�s guards are less surprised, instead pulling out weapons as the Samurai shift in position.

�You are saying this is the Redeemer of the Dead? The human we have been tasked at locating?� Crystal Mook grates out, his voice ever so careful. He waves one of his many hands, gesturing for the guards to close in on us.

Slime-Mook and the others close, weapons pulled.

�Yes.� Yorera glares at me. �This was not my plan. I wanted to be deeper within, where my people are waiting. But this will do. This is the Redeemer of the Dead. The human you are searching for.� His grin widens, sharp carnivore teeth flashing pearly white as he gloats. �Did you think I would risk my life, my child�s life for a simple Title? You are facing the Council itself! And the rewards offered. Why, what I'll get��

I never hear what he was going to get.

The Lieutenant Mook moves first. He thrusts his hand through Yorera�s neck, catching him in the back of the spine, his crystal arm erupting from Yorera�s neck then growing, engulfing his head in crystal. Yorera struggles, his guards moving to help him. The Slime-Mook rears up, engulfing a trio of guards near it�both Yorera�s devils and another Council guard.

Beam attacks fire while Mikito kicks and beats another while her hands are still chained. The three musketeers bear down another pair of guards while Harry falls flat onto the ground, covering his head as best as he can.

As for me? I slip out of the manacles, my Skill Edit making the damn manacles fall away. Then I trigger Judgment of All on the enemies within. And there are more of them than I�d like. It seems only the Slime and the Crystal Lieutenant are on our side as they battle valiantly.

Unfortunate for our enemies, Judgment of All doesn�t care where they are so long as I can sense them, see them. The spell erupts, tearing at them through their connection to the System, raw Mana flooding their bodies. Their screams, their struggles are brief. But not without cost.

We find the Slime a bubbled mess, his body eaten away by the poisons, the necrotic attacks used by Yorera�s guards. The feedback attack from Yorera himself, as an Ambassador, has shattered the crystal light within the Mook Lieutenant. He lies dying, his body cracked. Even healing spells do little for him.

�Never mind me, Redeemer. My crystal is shattered. But the formation will grow,� the Crystal Mook speaks, it�s body twisting and shuddering one last time before it collapses in on itself.

In the silence, I look around. The musketeers did well, keeping Harry alive. Agr�us is the most injured, hair of his beard burnt off, clutching at the stump of his arm. The remainder of his arm is lying a short distance away, bubbling as poison eats it.

�Lord Sato, are you well?� Ruvuuds is by Mikito, looking her over with his cat-eyes.

Mikito grimaces as the poisons threaten to eat away her leg. A brief foray over and a System Edit fixes the issue, allowing her to heal.

Harry is on the floor, trying to recover his bearings, his state of mind. Vrasceids is helping him, speaking softly as he strokes the reporter�s back, offering comfort by presence and touch.

I don�t have time for that. Instead, I move quickly, picking up the bodies of the guards and moving them into my Altered Storage before cleansing the space.

After that, we pull out the Lady�s security clearances once more before I hack our way out of the security room. This time around, we use a secondary exit, one that leads us directly into the council building itself, bypassing other security stations.

As we move, I can�t help but think we got off light.

***

Of course, eventually, Harry recovers enough to ask the questions. �Why�d they help us? Were they more of your Questors?�

I answer him, using the Party Chat, keeping our answers to the silence of the System. I lock it down with System Edit, though I know it isn�t perfect. But if anyone is looking that close, we�re screwed anyway.

�No. It was a trade,� I say. �Those attacks that Katherine was complaining about? They were distractions, but also payments. To certain factions with the Fist, kingdoms who wanted revenge. In turn, they�d help us out here.�

�Dangerous. They�re defying the Council directly,� Harry says. �Don�t they fear retaliation?�

�Of course they do. Which is why the help will be limited. The moment Crystal and Slime-Mook helped us out, they were dead. Cutouts that can�t offer further information.�

Even if someone pulled information backward, searched for how they were told, I�m sure it was hidden. Coded words, additional cutous. Ways of saying things without saying it.

�He has a name, you know.�

�I do.� But I carry enough names, enough grief with me already. His death, his sacrifice, is not one I take on. Even though I fear both are indelibly stuck in my memory anyway, that he�ll come to me in the middle of the night like so many others. Accusing me, berating me.

The help I�ve acquired, the people I paid off and locked with my System Edit Skill are numerous. But my plans, my options are wide too. And so in each spot, our potential help is thin. And there�s only so far they�re willing to aid us. Getting us into the Council chambers to create havoc? Sure.

Directly killing others? No.

As with so many things, we�re on our own for the majority. We hurry through the security corridors, our changed clothing and the firm stride we move with allowing us to pass without issue. Safeguarded by the Legendary�s Skill and the knowledge that we can�t be here.

In these safe, secure corridors of their security personnel.

Chapter 22

The journey to the Council chambers takes forever. Each diplomatic retinue has its own specific location within the building, one that�s protected by the same rules and regulations of diplomatic immunity that pervade the building itself. The Galactic Council building is not owned or controlled by any single individual, instead guarded by the Council and their guards.

Within each diplomatic sector are the institutions that own their voting boxes, their own safe zones. Of course, there are limits to that self-governance within the building itself, but it does offer some level of security once we arrive.

Soon enough, we pass the external security perimeter. Inside the building itself, security is looser. We pop out then, stepping into the main thoroughfares. A simple privacy bubble created by a Skill from Harry keeps the majority of people from speaking with us.

Even those diplomats and guards who see through the bubble only glance at our group before turning away. Custom and manners means that the vast majority do not attempt to interact with us.

That is, until we�re stopped by a familiar coral-eared, pale-skinned set of figures. The Erethrans that stop our team are not people I recognize automatically, even though I�ve seen images of the Vice-Ambassador that stands before us. Hands crossed behind his back, clad in the latest fashion, which in this case seems to include very little clothing�I wonder when that changed�the Erethran Ambassador shifts when we do.

I find myself coming to a stop and letting him enter the privacy bubble. I growl a little, annoyance in my voice. �Vice Ambassador Ramanner, what is the meaning of this?�

�Just a small thing. We�re hoping to speak with you before the upcoming vote,� the Vice Ambassador says. �If you don�t mind, we will escort you the rest of the way to your demesne.�

�And if I say no?� I ask, fist flexing.

�Why, I�d accept your request with good grace. And then go on to my next one, with the Movana.� His grin widens even as his eyes stay cold.

I do my best to keep my face unmoving, giving away nothing. Unfortunately, people like Harry�who is off his game�and the three musketeers do. The Erethran Ambassador grins, deliberately shifting his gaze to those who gave up the goose before turning back to me. Revealing our presence, our location to our enemies would be bad. Really bad.

�Shall we continue your walk? I wouldn�t want to hold you up too long.� Rammaner steps aside slightly, letting us move forward if we wish.

I growl but accept the fact he�s got us cornered. I can�t afford to start a fight here, and his threat�while subtle�is clear enough.

We walk, the Ambassador and his companions content to stroll alongside me in silence. I take a few moments to call up their Status information as I consider what they want. The two other Erethrans are boring, an Assistant and a Bodyguard, or the Erethran equivalent with fancy titles to denote their Advanced Class Status. The Bodyguard is right on the border of crossing into Master Class, and a quick dip into the System shows he�s stuck, unable to progress as he hasn�t chosen to fulfill his Class Quest.

The Ambassador, on the other hand, is much more interesting. I stare at his Status screen and poke at it mentally, seeing what I can call forth.

Zimalin Ramanner, Platinum Tongued, Famed Courtier, Beloved of the System, Master of Ceremonies at the 5S0-8, Slayer of Goblins, Manticores, Sphinxes, � (Senior Erethran Ambassador Level 3) (M)

HP: 2130/2130

MP: 2130/2130

Conditions: Diplomatic Immunity, Two are One, Secured Shield, State Secrets, Aura of the Empire�s Voice, State Security Protocols

�That name�� I frown. �I should know that name, right? It�s not Catrin�s, right?�

�Seriously. How did you ever keep a girl? You had a multi-month relationship. And her name was right above her head the entire time!� Ali sends back.

�I remember her name, just you know, not her last name. I didn�t need to remember it, and it was always right there,� I mentally rebut Ali. �It�s like remembering phone numbers. You don�t need to, because your smartphone always has it. Or birthdays. Or the name of your Skills.�

�Separating molecules, you humans are so lazy.� Ali sends an image of himself rolling his eyes.

I snigger, but I�m grateful that since the latest Level-up, his banishment doesn�t mean he can�t communicate with me. At least, so long as it�s a voluntary one. We haven�t tested an involuntary banishment as yet.

�Ramanner. The ex-Chief of Staff. The one you Shackled.�

�Right! He never mentioned he was related to the Vice Ambassador.� I frown. His presence here, the lack of information. I smell a conspiracy. On the other hand, he is the Vice Ambassador, the guy second in charge. Maybe Ramanner didn�t think it was necessary?

Ali�s dire chuckle makes me grimace, only to see Mikito interrogating me again with an eyebrow. This time, I can only offer a shrug.

We march on, the Erethran Vice Ambassador breaking the silence to chat about inconsequential things. The latest play, the places to eat. He fills the silence with practiced ease, and his presence makes the other guards and the other diplomats glance at us and away.

Each step, each sideways glance by a diplomat, a courier or assistant as we walk makes me tense internally even as I offer monosyllabic replies to Rammaner. My stomach clenches, my fingers press together under the cuffs of my sleeves, and I find myself wishing I had some chocolate to eat.

Harry doesn�t do much better, his fears warring against the enchantments on him and winning out. I see the occasional flashes of panic, of concern that run through him. I hate it. I hate pushing him so hard. But I don�t have a choice, I don�t think.

Mikito handles the walk the best, keeping an eye out for problems without looking more suspicious than any security guard would. It�s still not perfect, it�s still not great, and I can tell that the liquid grace she moves across the floor with is her fighting stance. Her body, her awareness is ramped up to its peak level.

All this tension, all this wariness will force a crash that�ll really suck later. Until then, we watch, we breathe, and we function.

Finally, finally, we reach the hallway that leads to humanity�s secure room. Our secure location, the one that only members of humanity can enter. Guards watch us as we move through the hallways, but none dare stop us. Not with the Erethran with us. And since the hallways lead to many places, they only glance at us before letting their eyes move on.

I�m just glad that traditions�and Council paranoia�dictate that security personnel are pulled back and out of hallways. You can�t stay standing in a hallway for too long, no matter what. Which means there are, of course, roving groups of security and paid diplomatic couriers, but no stationary guards. In this way, with a little bit of luck and planning, you can slip into a rival�s room, make a deal, and leave with no one the wiser.

�And here we come, to the end at last. Really, coming here is dangerous. One might almost call it insane. No one in their right-thinking mind, when pursued by the full power of the Council, would think to come to the very heart of their power,� Ramanner says. �Which is why we knew you�d be here.�

�We?� I say.

�The Empress Apparent sends her greetings.� Ramanner gives a small salute, hand to his chest before he continues. �Also, and these are her words, �Tell that fool this is the most I can do and that, if he survives, he should visit.��

I blink while behind me, Mikito lets out a muffled snort of amusement.

�And what, exactly, did you do? Or is she offering?� Harry says. Something in his voice makes me turn around, slowing down our pace. His hands are clenched around one another. His fingers are pale, almost white around the edges.

The Ambassador sweeps his gaze up and down Harry, his lips tightening in disapproval. He hesitates before giving his head the slightest shake and turning away from the reporter.

�I do want to know the answer to that question too,� I mutter to the Vice Ambassador.

�Ah. A simple matter of extraction.� Ramanner shifts and holds out four stylized pins.

I frown, picking one up from his hand and scanning it to see what the System has to say.

Stylized Pin

Material: Gold

Of course, that�s not enough for me. I dig in, checking the information provided, and my lips curl up. Because it might be a simple pin according to the description, but the bundle of Mana it�s wrapped around is dense. I push, sliding past the data bundle, and find myself staring at another, more honest notification.

Manop Galactic Positioning System Pin (M)

When you absolutely must keep track of something, Manop�s GPS Pins are guaranteed to work or your Credits back three times over! That�s right, our lifetime triple warranty has never failed, even against Heroic Level Class Skills.

Effects: Provides your location to holder of the master-piece to this slaved pin. May be used in conjunction with master-piece to target spells and Skills.

�Really. You expect us to wear this?� I say.

Ramanner smiles. �I am hoping you do not.� At the incredulous look, I give him, he shrugs. �I follow orders, but I must also express my displeasure at her actions. The Empress Apparent is placing the Empire in danger with the aid she offers you. So no, I would prefer if you didn�t use this.�

I turn the pin over in my hand before speaking slowly. �You know that kind of statement could almost be seen a rather direct method of manipulation.�

Ramanner�s smile widens as if he�s enjoying me squirm. My fist clenches around the pin. If it was just a �simple pin,� it�d be crushed.

�What I want to know is why there are only four pins,� Mikito says softly, plucking a pair from Ramanner as she walks past us on her way to Harry.

When both of them put the pins on, I frown even more. �You trust him?�

�He could have had us thrown into jail already,� she says. �And I trust Catrin.�

While I mull the trust my friend puts in my ex-lover, she raises an eyebrow.

He shrugs, gesturing vaguely at the three musketeers. �We had not planned for them. I�d recommend they leave. Before� well. You know.�

I frown, considering his words. They were useful to get us in. Most alerts will be looking for two or three people, which is why a group of six helps with camouflage. But Ramanner has a point. We don�t need them here, and they�d slow us down when we run.

�Go,� I say to the three.

Of course, they look at Mikito, who speaks directly to the Vice Ambassador. �Will you see them out?�

Ramanner frowns, then looks at me then at the three. Eventually, he nods, gesturing to the Bodyguard. �They will be shown out.� Mikito opens her mouth to protest and is overridden by Ramanner immediately. �Do not push my largesse.�

She shuts her mouth, chastised. At the door, I look between the group as she steps toward the three, whispering to them. I hear words of thanks and further, coded orders before they step away.

�Good eve to you. And I hope that whatever you choose to do, the fallout will be minimal,� Ramanner says, his voice cold. �Or at least contained.�

I can only offer him a grin, still turning the pin over in my hand. He glances at it, then at the ones on both Mikito and Harry before gesturing, bringing the three members of Mikito�s fan club with him. They offer me respectful nods, then bows to Mikito before we finally turn to the door.

Humanity�s abode. The only place where we can be safe for the short period that we need before the rest of the plan is put into play. I smile, placing my hand on the plate and willing it open. The System recognizes me, recognizes my authority, and slides the door open. I cast one last glance back to where the Erethrans and the three musketeers leave.

A part of me wonders how much danger I�ve put them in. How likely retribution will be for him, for Catrin, for the Empire and the fan club. In the end, I dismiss my concern for them. There�s a point where care and concern for others becomes nothing more than a self-mutilating burden, when you have to accept that others are adults and able to accept the risks they take upon themselves.

There�s a point where you have to let go and let them fall. And hope that you�ve held them up long enough that they�ve grown their wings enough to fly.

***

I step into the quarters, idly noting the security systems Katherine has bought. As I walk forward, further notifications bloom with information about Earth�s embassy within the Council building.

The complex itself is relatively small, nothing bigger than a penthouse condo in size with floor-to-ceiling two-story tall windows straight ahead of us overlooking the voting chambers. There�s a small floating orb in front of the windows where we will be able to cast our vote. And to our right, a staircase leads to a second floor where the offices lie. The main floor is fully open for simple gatherings and parties.

You Have Entered the Embassy of the Galactic Planet�Earth. This is a subsidiary Diplomatic Zone of Earth.

All laws, regulations, and planet-wide effects are in place. Current domain effects include:

Planetary Dimension Locked (Disruptive Interference Tier I)

Sensor Net

Past Mistakes Teach Best (+0.04% XP Gain)

Dodgy Accounting (+4.2% Voting Mana Regeneration)

� (more)

I push outward and tap into the Sensor Net. Sense nothing, see nothing. The expected welcoming party is missing. No Kasva, which is somewhat of a surprise. I expected him to be here. To meet him at the end, to fight a drawn-out battle.

But maybe Ramanner was right. Only the insane would expect us to be here, to dare them in the lions� den.

This Diplomatic Space currently includes:

2 Secure Meetings

3 Secure Office Spaces (1 Reinforced)

1 Refreshment & Dining Room with integrated Kitchen

Voting Sphere�Main & slaved voting sphere (in Reinforced Secure Office)

Tier II Security System

I barely pay attention to this notification since there�s another one right after it.

You are the Earth Proxy.

Would you like to modify the current Diplomatic Space?

I assent to the request and make a quick purchase�a small study with a library within. Another purchase of a series of books fills the library. Hardcover editions of a series of readings, all useful, all important. It�s a little gift for Katherine. Though she�Earth�is the one paying for it. I�d pay for it, but that�s not the way the System works.

We spread out, Mikito moving with Harry to one of the nearby lounging chairs to relax. Now that we�re in a safe spot, we need to do so. Since we�ll be doing something else, something a lot more dangerous soon enough.

Alone, I flex my will, calling forth Ali. He takes a few seconds to form, passing through the membrane between worlds, his body pulling together much like the Mana doppelgangers. I give him a second to finish up before I walk the rest of the way in.

Something, something pushes at the edges of my senses. Maybe it�s my Luck, maybe it�s my augmented Perception. Maybe it�s just because I�ve seen him before, saw how he camouflaged his body. I look up.

He�s invisible, almost entirely blended into the ceiling. As I stare at him, I see his Status information is once again blank. The damn ghost spider-creature offers nothing. But luckily for me, the Lady had happily provided that information, at least as she knew it. Ali combines it all together for me, giving me his rather interesting Status.

Wex (Anasi Martial Glutton Level 38/ Senior Administrator Level 17) (H/?)

HP: 2430/2430

MP: 4380/4380

Conditions: Webbed Intuition, Threads of the Nest, Stored Reserves, You Are What You Eat, Body of the Dead

�Senior Administrator Wex. I have to admit, I�m surprised you�re here,� I say, calling to him.

�Expecting someone else?�

�Yes. Your champion.� I watch as my friend scrambles, weapons coming out as she stares at the spot in the ceiling I look at. Harry doesn't notice Wex, but Mikito does. She has Hitoshi out, the Legacy weapon glowing scarlet as she points at the spider. �I actually prepared for him.�

�I had a bet. I believed that you would dare this. You're always presumptuous, foolhardy in your decisions. Choosing to attack rather than retreat. What is your plan? To stare down at the Ambassadors and Diplomats below and use your Skill? Kill them all?� Wex asks, shifting a little.

Harry gasps, spotting him at last. Now that Wex is moving, I realize its not just sitting there talking to me but holds another bundle in its hand, a spider-thread-wrapped bundle that it�d been snacking upon. Martial Glutton indeed.

�That would solve some of our problems, wouldn�t it?� I say, offering it a wide grin.

Harry shoots me a horrified look while Mikito begins the process of buffing herself.

�So you guessed right,� I say. �But why�s your buddy not here?�

�We are verifying multiple angles.� Wex clicks, making the bundle disappear. �Unlike you, we do not like to gamble upon a single winning outcome.�

I growl, even if he is somewhat correct in his assumptions. All too often, I�ve been forced to take one risk after the other without backup plans. Or few enough backup plans to matter. Calling forth a dragon, choosing the Heir I wanted, even the vote for the planetary governance.

�Maybe, but I�m not the idiot standing before a group of very enthusiastic killers by itself.� Once more, I eye its Status, grateful for the information I have now. The understanding that came about after spending so much time Leveling in the Administrative Center.

Wex isn�t a Legendary. It�s a much weaker than normal Heroic�at least in terms of its �fake� Class. That was confirmed both by the Lady and my own experiences Leveling up. Even as a late-stage Heroic, it doesn't have the same level of Skills, the kind of ability to do damage that a real Heroic would. That�s because most of its Skill Points have been dedicated toward the System Edit Skill�just like my last few ones.

Of course, it�s made up by the fact that it can buy Heroic Skills, just as I would have to if I had progressed normally. Add the fact that we need to Level up both Classes at the same time, because we�re forced to gain experience in two different formats, and its Combat Class just isn�t that powerful.

Oh sure, it could go out and fight to level its fake Class, but without Class Skill points to dedicate toward combat Skills, Wex must rely on its purchased Skills to make up the difference and hide its lack of Skills. And with our responsibilities and the need to split our time, I bet it was not as easy as just jaunting off.

In the end, that probably means that an Administrator is weak in a direct confrontation like this. Or at least, theoretically. If you discount the use of the System Edit Skill in combat itself.

I have a feeling I�m going to get a lesson on its uses in a second�

�Maybe.� Wex cleans its front legs again, rubbing them together.

For a second, I look into the fractured kaleidoscope of its eyes, the fractured vision of its almost invisible body.

And then we dance.

Chapter 23

It�s not me who starts the fight but Mikito. She uses Makoto, her long-range strike, swinging Hitoshi in a short, chopping motion that makes the explosion of energy from the tip of the legacy weapon arc out in an ever-growing curve of energy.

Wex throws itself out of the way, swinging on an invisible thread attached to the ceiling and dodging the strike. It avoids Mikito�s initial attack with ease, but as it lands on invisible threads, Wex doesn�t take into account the living-flames Hitoshi provides.

They catch onto its threads, jumping from connection to connection, burning their way to Wex as they destroy its delicate web. The flames are hungry, seeking blood and flesh, and the spider lets out a squeaky exclamation of surprise as it slashes and parts its own web, forcing it to fall away.

In the distraction, I act.

First step, I throw up my Penetration Evolved Skill. It�ll keep me alive longer than not. Domain and my Aura switch on, followed by Eye of the Storm as I figure my team could use the boost and distraction. Then I trigger the rest of the defenses in the building itself. Weapon turrets drop from the ceiling only to get stuck, caught in webs. Drones attempt to roll out of their resting spots, only to burst apart as explosive threads ignite, sending molten shrapnel into space. The defenses that Katherine paid for are rendered useless just like that.

�Fine,� I snarl and raise my fist, clenching it.

Judgment of All doesn�t require me to hit the Administrator, just for me to see it. And Wex might be mildly camouflaged, but it is moving too much. There are too many flames above it now to hide it completely.

Judgment of All starts up, and Mana floods out of me. And keeps flooding. My eyes widen as I sense Wex tearing at my Skill using its System Edit Skill. I try to block it, but I�m too late.

Notifications arrive, telling me what it was doing, all too late.

Judgment of All Activate

Administrative Override: Mana Cost Tripled

Duration Reduced: 6.5 seconds

Even so, my plunge into my Skill is enough to make the damn Administrator stop. Its mental intrusion scurries off just before it nerfs my damage too.

I feel, more than sense, the rush of Mana that hammers into the floating point of its body. To meet an obstruction. The Mana burns, tearing away at Wex�but not. I frown, digging into the discrepancy with my System Edit Skill even as I conjure swords and throw them at the damn spider, letting my floating weapons create problems for the scurrying spider.

Stored Reserves (Level 10) (Administrator Modified)

The Anasi Martial Glutton�s premier Skill, it allows the Anasi to consume health and Mana stores from its victims and store them for later use. Stored reserves replenish health and Mana of the user at an increased rate.

Effect 1: Store up to 11,000 HP and Mana from consumed victims at a ratio of 1:100

Effect 2: Increased Regeneration of Health and Mana of user at need by 11%. Each addition unit regenerated decreases stored HP and Mana respectively.

Administration Modification: Stored reserves of HP and Mana take damage first. User resistances are still in effect.

�Son of a bitch! It�s got a reserve for health,� I shout to the group even as it bounces away from one of Mikito�s attacks.

She�s on her ghost horse now, riding on air as she charges it. Wex is fast, but she�s good and the ever-changing size of the energy blade on Hitoshi keeps it guessing.

�I know,� the Samurai snaps at me. Another cut, this one bouncing off the sudden silvery body of the spider. A second later, it�s back to normal as the Administrator swaps around the traits of its physical body with Body of the Dead. �Stop standing around and help!�

�I am doing something. Didn�t you see that� I guess you didn�t�� I mutter.

Of course she wouldn�t. Judgment of All, even now finished ticking down, never had an external effect because it soaked all that damage up in its health bank. Even nastier, its Resistances�including its Administrator Resistances�soaked up much of that damage. Which wouldn�t have been that high otherwise, it being pure Mana damage.

�I got it!� Ali shouts.

The Spirit flies straight up, the conjured ball of plasma in his hand about to be lobbed at the Administrator. Only for Ali to suddenly stop as he hits a series of invisible threads. Even with my higher Perception, I can barely sense the way they shifted to catch it, forcing Ali to hold. A second later, they burn the caught Spirit, attacking him on the immaterial plane as well as the material plane.

The Spirit holds it together long enough to release the plasma containment in the general direction of Wex, catching the Administrator in the backblast. It isn�t a direct hit, but it does destroy even more of its threads. Threads which keep growing back.

I debate flying up, but I�m not Mikito. I lack her Skills to avoid and dodge the damn web. And getting caught is a bad idea. Instead, I fall back on an old standby�using Blade Strike to cut at the spider above.

While I do that, while I let my physical instincts take over, I step into the other side of the fight, extending my System Edit Skill. For I can see how it�s tearing at Mikito�s Skills, knocking them down, aborting their start, increasing cost and otherwise hampering her.

Blitzed is put on cooldown. Isoide�her haste�increases in cost by ten times. Shatter is lowered in percentage, making it almost useless. Even Gi, her unblockable, undodgable attack, is nerfed as she�s forced to expend multiple times her Mana to make use of it.

It�s going after me too, but only occasionally. Domain only barely reaches them as they dart around the inside of the building. Eye of the Storm taunt effects aren�t affecting it at all, its mental resistances more than sufficient. The damage effect is nice, since it adds to my Skills, but it isn�t burning the threads as I hoped. And my Aura doesn�t affect it directly. As for my Blade Strikes, it�s easier to dodge or tank than to actually bother Editing.

I dive in, fighting Wex with my System Edit Skill. I cancel its Skills, block further Skill uses, attempt to delve into its Status Screen. We�re fighting on a half dozen fronts virtually, and in a short period, I go entirely on the defensive.

It�s many times more experienced than I am, multiple times stronger and smarter. I can barely keep up with the changes it makes on Mikito�s Skills, and I barely pay attention to when it nerfs my own, destroying Penetration�s duration, reducing the damage done on my own Blade Strikes.

But it�s also hampered. Firstly, by the System itself. Like when I changed the Title for Yorera�s son, the System doesn�t like us making localized alterations like this. It fights back, wanting to revert to normal. On top of that, it�s also hampered by the penalty the System placed upon it when it attacked me the first time we met. I sense the hitch in its Skill uses, the way it has to expand Mana in a surge each time it switches to a new line of attack.

And all the while, while we fight in the virtual, Mikito takes it on in the physical. She�s cutting at it, bleeding its body even as she dodges around combat drones, slips past threads of flame and electricity, and avoids the occasional swing of Skill-powered blows.

Ali breaks free and, angry at its entrapment, fights back against the Anasi�s threads. He�s burning them, detaching them from the walls with his affinity, sending arcs of electricity down others to shock the spider.

And occasionally, occasionally, one of my Blade Strikes hits, cutting into the damn spider. It still looks pristine, undamaged, but I know its health bank is dropping, draining with each strike.

And we�re fine. Mostly.

�Keep at it! We�re winning,� Ali crows. �Useless Administrator!�

Of course, that�s when Wex stops playing with us.

***

The first thing it does is release a cloud of gas. I don�t even need the green and purple nature of it to tell me it�s a bad idea to be anywhere near the cloud�especially when it expels it from its behind. Mikito, maneuvering around its back, receives the full blast of it.

Of course, her ghost armor has a protection against direct breath attacks. But such poison Skills bypass the sensibility of pure breathing, using aura and physical contact to push its effects upon its victims. Mikito reels back, forced to pull away for a moment as she�s assaulted by the poison.

Below, I pull out the Hod and trigger its dressing aspect, cursing myself for paying too much attention to its System Edit Skill and not taking the time to armor myself. �Ugh��

My pity party is cut short when I look to the side and spot a forgotten member of the party. Harry, curled up on the floor, is thrashing as the damn area effect poison hits him. I snarl, and rather than risk it, I use Sanctum. It forms faster than ever, covering the reporter. I can only hope he�s able to survive. Too late, the Hod finishes closing in around me. I feel the Status effects from the poison flare to life as the poison seeps into me.

You have been poisoned by an Anasi Internal Brewed Poison Cloud (Modified)

Effects partially resisted

Health and Mana Regeneration reduced by 38%

You are (mildly) intoxicated. Negative Perception and Agility bonuses applied.

You are receiving 14 HP damage per minute

The damage-over-time effect is negligible for me with my regeneration in play. The Health and Mana regeneration effects are more concerning, especially since this is after my resistances.

But Wex isn�t done just yet.

�Look out!�

Ali�s shout makes me look up to see a rain of white packages falling down around me. Some fall straight, some arc through the air, and many, many of them bounce off invisible spider threads, their final destination impossible to gauge.

Still, I try to dodge, especially when a few hit the razor thread and part. The damn corpses explode when they fall, engulfing the very air in flames and burning poison. My aura trembles, the Hod hissing as acid-coated rain and poisonous flames assault it. Soul Shield and the Hod�s defensive shields sparkle, light chasing across the edges of the protection as I search for a safe place on the ground.

And realize there is nothing.

I take to the air, throwing Blade Strikes ahead of me, calling back my sword as I begin another spell. Beacon of the Angels, targeted to start within the demesne itself.

I swear when my Skill is cut short, the Administrator sliding in and brute-forcing the attack. My body shudders a little as the Mana that was meant to power the Skill flows back into me with nowhere to go. But I climb out of the explosion of body parts and flames, of poison and toxins below into the�relatively�clear air of the second floor. I cut again and again, letting my swords swing in preset patterns, destroying the threads that threaten to take me.

The remnant flames from the explosions pop the Hod�s shield. Poison air eats away at my Soul Shield, but I ignore it, searching.

I spot Mikito first. Her horse is treading on bare air, its armored mane ragged, its ghostly body rotting. Its rider is lolling on the back, head hanging over the edge of the horse�s neck, Hitoshi pointed at the ground. At least the Legacy weapon seems to be doing well, as a small whirlpool forms around its head as it absorbs the poisons.

Wex I miss until it�s too late. It rises up from below me, using threads that I was certain were cut. Hopping through the sky for its fangs to close in on me from below. Dark energies, gravity, and other forms of magic are embedded in its fangs and along the edges of its mouth. Its jaw closes with a snap, popping my Soul Shield without issue. I struggle, attempting to escape and fail.

Rather than fight a losing battle, I trigger Blink Step. I sense it moving to shut it down, and I use my own Skill to block it. But it�s sort of like a teenager trying to stop a professional linebacker. The sheer volume of Mana it can wield compared to me is an entire tier apart. The backlash of the direct conflict causes more damage than the grinding, necrotic bite itself.

I shudder, coughing as Blink Step is forcibly shut down and put on cooldown. Its Mana invades my Status, my body, and the essence of what I am within the System, changing, altering things. It hits my escape and defense Skills first, tearing its way through Portal, through Soul Shield and Sanctum. It even turns off Domain, which is hurting it more than Eye of the Storm.

That�s okay though, since I�m leaning toward bringing the pain rather than worrying about damage. I force Mana into the System, activating Judgment of All and feeling it snap off. I don�t try to stop it though, because I�ve already got Grand Cross rolling. It slams it shut, but I see the constant Mana use, the way System Edit is burning it up.

Of course, I�m not doing well. Penetration�s Shield is powerful, but it requires me to do damage. And it�s stopping me from doing it all too often, shutting down whatever it wants with impunity. It�s not even trying to edit around restrictions, slamming full stops on me. The System is punishing it, fighting it, but it�s taking it to finish this fight. And without damage, my Penetration Shielding is falling, the necrotic, toxic, and elemental damage on its fangs burning through the shield.

I have to finish fast. Good thing I still remember the lesson from our first fight. While it�s busy dealing with the System, I conjure lightning. It�s easy. There�s so much energy being shed�from disrupted Mana, from my shield�s sparking, from the escaped radiation and electrons of its energy attacks. I just borrow it, lowering resistances, increasing attraction. Making lightning itself come alive all around us.

It bounces from it to me, to the threads around us, and back again. Lightning, jumping and arcing, connected to one another. The System registers the damage, but it doesn�t give it to my shielding, ignoring my Elemental Affinity as it stands outside of the System.

Wex tries to shut it down, of course, but it�s an Affinity. There�s no System finagling here. It records, it displays, but it doesn�t control. But it can mitigate. The damn spider pulls me close, holding me tight with its legs, mouth still clamped onto me, as it absorbs the damage. Its body shimmers, shifting to something darker, something more rubbery. My grasp on its body, on the connection to it, slip as it adjusts to my attack.

�Idiot boy-o.� Ali shoots over to me, having freed himself.

He slams a container of plasma into Wex�s back, burrowing in as deep as he can before releasing the containment. Electricity tries to jump to the Spirit, but he�s mostly immaterial. Beyond charring the Spirit a little at the edges�disrupting Ali�s material plane connection�he�s fine.

So�s Wex, to my horror. The damn creature�s resistances and bank of life is taking Ali�s attack with aplomb. Things go from bad to worse as I reel from another System Edit assault that floods my body with Mana, turning my Judgment of All Skill on me. I batter the Edit attack aside, shoving will and my own Skill against it, but not before my Penetration Skill pops and my life plummets.

My body is on fire, the Hod is smoking and screaming as the power armor is melted, and my flesh decays as necrotic energy invades me. I liquify and burn, and my tender grasp on the lightning falls aside.

A last ditch maneuever. I haven�t tried it before, but theoretically, if I let the bonds between my molecules slip far enough, I can fall. Right through its grip. I try for it, feeling myself and the Hod shudder.

And stop, for electromagnetic force is only one of the prime forces in the universe. And the damn Administrator is wielding gravity spheres in its mouth, pulling me toward its fangs.

�Wake up, Mikito!� Ali shouts. Its olive face is scrunched up in concentration as it pours plasma into Wex�s torso, trying to push it through the body to hit something important. It must hurt, but the Administrator doesn�t care.

A snap, a tear, and the Hod�s outer armor around an arm falls away as the damage from the elements, from the lightning, from the fires that burn below and the toxins that drip take its toll. It falls�and so does the arm beneath it, as liquified and crisped skin offers no grip. The armor falls for only a second before swinging up, smacking Wex in the face as gravity spheres pull it up.

I�m held in place not by its mouth but the gravity it wields, attacked on all sides. The lightning is gone, only occasional sparks still bursting into life as excess energy keeps firing. I�m semi-immaterial, floating in space, smoke and toxins entering and mixing within my body, leaving a burnt, rotten smell in my throat, in my lungs.

Blood drips and falls, and even my defensive Skills fail. Peasant�s Fury is working overtime to increase regeneration, but I�m taking more damage than it can keep up with. Elastic Skin and Harden help, as do my resistances, but poisons and toxins bypass a lot of the defenses. Wex�s abilities are perfect for dealing with me.

The gravity spheres hold on to me and my mind spins, time and Intelligence stretching out for a few brief seconds. Gravity spheres work in one of two ways. It compresses and increases the mass in a location�making it denser and thus increasing the force of attraction. Or it increases G�the gravitational force itself. My Affinity doesn�t change my mass, and releasing it leaves me still hanging in space. The Administrator isn�t strong enough, physically, to handle an increase in mass, so the spell must increase the gravitational force itself.

Which means�

I trigger a Skill and pull at my sword. It lets me, not caring about the extra swords I conjure. They can cut, but they aren�t that powerful, not with me thrashing in mid-air. But I release my soulbound weapon, letting it fall. And it shoots upward, just like my arm.

To strike Wex in the face. It plunges deep, point first. And then, behind it, the conjured weapons it let me have follow, just as they�re scripted to. The attack isn�t enough to kill it, but having multiple blades plunged into one�s body from below and attempt to come out one�s face is distracting as all hell. Never mind the plasma torch Ali wields.

Wex�s concentration falters for a second, the gravitic spheres blinking off. Anger takes over the Administrator and it twists the spell with its System Edit. Rather than drawing, it repulses. Ali, the swords, myself are launched away at speed.

The floor rushes up to me, shattering my newly renewed Penetration shield. The mixed-metal and stone floor cracks beneath my body, webs of kinetic energy dispersed. Flames from burning corpses gutter, as dust and air billow out from the impact point, before reasserting themselves with vigor.

My head rings, my body shattered. I feel bones grind, a lung pierced, organs ruptured. Frenzy threatens to activate, before it is slapped down by the Administrator. It holds itself in the air, Ali and Mikito caught in its webs as it lowers itself toward me.

I wonder when it caught Ali. Maybe in the half-second when I fell, when it turned its full attention on the Spirit.

A glance at its Health bank, as my Skill tells me we did well. We took out nearly all of it. Just a little more and we would be tearing into its real health. We could win.

I just have to move.

But I can�t. The Hod is broken, my body not much better.

Wex lowers itself, thread spooling from its behind as it speaks. �A good attempt, but futile��

Wex begins to monologue.

And it freezes when I grin.

***

The golden book comes slamming down at an angle, which is a good thing. I�m too broken to dodge, even if I wanted to. And if I did move beforehand, it�d give Wex time to dodge. As it stands, the damn Administrator manages to get a bunch of threads in the way and its body scurrying to the side.

But the book is huge and it�s moving as fast as a bullet. The amount of time Wex has to dodge is counted in milliseconds. The book keeps moving, crushing the spider into the wall and pushing, turning the Administrator into so much paste. I spot a single leg, uncovered at the side of the wall, twitching. Before the flood of blood and guts push out from the edges of the book itself.

�Squish,� I breathe and let my head flop backward.

Pain, pain that threatened to take me, floods over my consciousness. I ride it out, floating in the sea of agony as the System battles the poisons and toxins still in my body, as it deals with the flames. A refreshing wave of energy flows over me, healing some of the damage. Another wave and my body bubbles and twists, toxins and poisons exploding from my skin. A noxious green, yellow, and black paste bubbles from my body, mixing with the red of my blood.

Above, screams resound from Mikito as the same happens to the Samurai. She�s shocked awake by the cleansing, dropping to the ground a moment later when she releases her steed. The normally calm and unshakeable Samurai blanches when she spots the state I�m in. Not that she looks much better. Her hair�s almost all fallen out and patches of flesh peek out from the damaged clothing she wears, raw and open as the System keeps healing it.

�I� I failed,� Mikito whispers, bowing to me.

�Pish-tosh,� Ali says, floating down. �It caught you unawares with that sleepy poison. Overrode any of the defenses you had by cheating.�

�I should have anticipated. Planned better,� Mikito says, shaking her head. �I could have bought other Skills.�

�Which the Administrator would have likely rendered useless.� The voice that cuts in is thick Glaswegian, barely understandable. Totally at odds with the thin black tie, charcoal-grey-suited figure that floats over to us. Except, you know, the extra long limbs and fingers and the grey and pallid skin with oversized eyes on a famine-shaped body. �It was only when it felt secure that we were assured of its death.�

�Pride before fall. And then, squish.� I lever myself up, laughing a little in pain and sardonic humor. It might be a little hysterical, as my mind and the System try to compartmentalize the memories of burning and rotting alive. Simultaneously.

�Yes. I received your message,� Feh�ral says. His eyes flicker sideways, up to the library and the books I purchased. The signal to it, the locator beacon that allowed it to step across time and space to our side. With a little help. �The Lord is less than pleased with us both. I do not think he will help us further. But he is delighted that the Council is no longer probing his defenses.�

�Wasn�t his entire schtick being left alone?� Ali says. �The entire false Forbidden Zone and everything.�

�He might exaggerate the level of his neutrality,� Feh�ral says, fingers back in front of his body and tented. He turns, his entire body floating around to stare at his golden book. A moment later, the book shrinks and flies back into his hand. �If he did not, did you think I would have sent you to him? The Lord has always had conflicts with both the Council and what we now know to be the Administrators.�

�Why�? Oh. The Forbidden Zones.� I nod. �They have no control in there, do they?�

Feh�ral inclines his head and I snort, pushing myself the rest of the way to my feet. I idly tap a few things and send off the Hod, watching as it pulls itself into a shattered cube before blipping away, sent off for fixing. I just hope they can get it sorted before I need it again.

Who am I kidding? They won�t.

�Is Harry okay?� Mikito asks, looking at the still-present bubble of the Sanctum.

I turn my head to follow her gaze, then glance at the party interface. �He�s alive.�

�But silent.�

I have nothing to add to that. I hope he�s fine, but the silence is less than promising. It�s possible that he�s unconscious as well, but his status effects don�t show that. Which might mean he�s catatonic in an entirely, non-System way.

Unable to do anything about that for now, I turn to Feh�ral. �I'm glad to see you.�

As my body continues to patch itself together, I breathe slowly, wishing I had the Mana to cast a Cleanse. I reek of the toxins and poisons from the corpses and Wex�s bile, all mixed with the remnants of my flesh and organs.

Non-combat Class or not, the gods damned Administrator really showed me what the System Edit Skill could do in a fight. I need to learn how to do the things he did�and how to protect myself and my friends.

Thankfully, the vast majority of the things he Edited are being fixed by the System as it reverts me to its baselines stats, dealing with the problematic issues the Administrator created. Anything the System doesn�t get around to, I�ll handle. Once I stop hurting.

�I take it that the Questors have voted,� I say when Feh�ral doesn�t answer. �It�s good to have you guys on board.�

�No,� Feh�ral says.

�What?� I shout.

Feh�ral inclines his head, as if my expression of emotion is something wrong. �The Questors have decided that your information is good. They commend you. They offer you this��

Congratulations! Title Granted: Innovative Questor

You have contributed a significant piece of information to the Questor library. You have been hereby granted a new Title. Your word and research data will be given more weight during the System Quest studies.

Effect: Reputation increased with all Questors. Reputation decreased with other factions.

I scroll through the notification quickly, then dismiss it with an angry wave. �I don't want a consolation prize. I want to know why you all aren�t helping.�

�The information was good, but insufficient. The information provided increased a number of Quest completion rates. But it was insufficient to provide a marked and universal increase.� Feh�ral�s hands open wide, as if to say what can you do. �The information has been banked. It will be dispersed. It will not be lost. The sacrifice has been noted.�

I find myself shouting, �That's it? That�s all you�re going to do? Because you guys didn't get enough of a completion rate, you just pat us on the head and let my world, let us, die? Just because you can�t fulfill enough of your damn Quest?� I�m angry, and if my chest, my body burns with anger�and lingering damage�it also helps me avoid the thought that I have done much the same before. Chosen the Quest over others, over the individual good.

Feh�ral nods impassively.

�If that�s the case, what the hell are you doing here?� I snap.

Mikito watches us calmly, though I note her hand has dropped low, in the position she uses for calling forth her weapon. The motion which would allow to swing it up and bisect Feh�ral if needed. Ali, on the other hand, is looking� well, conflicted. Between being amused at my reaction and horror at the implications.

Feh�ral grins, and I find myself shivering. That damn #creepylibrarian still makes me shudder. �I disagreed with the majority. As did a few others. We believe you can lead us to more, to the completion of our most sought-after desire. And, I believe, where you go is where I must too.�

I growl, ignoring the rather obvious conversational bait. �So you're here by yourself.�

I shut my eyes, forcing some calm over myself. A hand presses something into my hands and I look at it, spotting a chunk of chocolate. Ali gives me one of his shit-eating grins even as I debate throwing the hunk of liquid sunshine at him.

�Hey, at least we got a Legendary on our side,� Ali says.

I let out another groan but decide against the blasphemy and pop the chocolate into my mouth. He is right. We do have a new dangerous and creepy ally. It�s not what I wanted, but he came when we needed him. When we would have fallen.

As I stare around the shattered, broken domain, I shake my head. In the distance, the windows�thankfully one-way�showcase the voting hall. All of this, all this fighting, and we�re not done yet.

For there�s still what we came here to do. The final piece of my plan. And after that� well.

Perhaps the Questors are right to abandon us.

Chapter 24

We walk forward as the System strains to clean and put the domain back into place. Thankfully, System-chicanery means that no one noticed the fight within. Or if they did, they ignored it.

It�s still weird, shifting from a life-and-death struggle to just silence, to boredom and a moment of relaxation. Or as relaxed as you can get, knowing that you might have enemy fighters running in at any time to end you. It�s a weird mixture of boredom and tension, of breathless waiting and shuddering, tension-escaping moments.

The calm after a hurricane hits, after the earthquake has come and gone, while you�re waiting to see if there are aftershocks. When you have to get on with life, but you�re unsure if your world is about to come apart once more.

Before the windows, I come to a stop. For the first time, I can look properly at the chamber for the Galactic Council. The center of power for the System supposedly, the place where the galaxy revolves. Except we know that for the lie it is.

Seats abound, all facing a giant stage. The council chamber looks too big and too small at the same time. Too small to contain the entire galaxy�s places of power and too big, for it extends on and on, the farthest windows no larger than half the size of my hand. On the sloping ground, along a trio of open air mezzanine locations, are benches and tables for those with less power or who desire to be closer to the action.

From speaking with Katherine, I know each chamber�s windows shift, optimizing the view of occupied locations. Unoccupied chambers are shifted back by more System chicanery.

The whole room is shaded steel grey, illuminated by purple and blue lighting, with minor variations in lighting depending on the section. I absently note small force bubbles in certain areas, set up so that individuals with noncarbon-based, nonoxygen-breathing genetics are able to interact and exist. Some of those bubbles contain water, liquid nitrogen, liquid carbon, magma, and in one case�well separated from everyone else�plasma. The wide variety of aliens that make up the System can be seen in both the kinds of environments they require and the caution taken by others interacting with them.

And interact they do, speaking, gambling, and in a few cases, even fighting. But the poor spike of vegetation on the stage, wobbling and trembling while speaking in Galactic with all its heart�if it has a heart�no one�s truly paying attention to. It only takes me a few minutes to grasp what it�s asking for�a plea for help as they are being invaded and conquered by another opposing nation. I, like everyone else, dismiss it from my mind. As much as I might feel for them, I have my own problems.

And isn�t that the condemnation and a pure example of the living condition? We all have our own problems, our own burdens, all of it pressing down upon us. And for us, no matter how big, no matter how terrible another�s problems might be�objectively and subjectively�ours will always matter more. It takes courage, bravery, and empathy to step outside of our own minds, our own hearts and concerns to aid another. Especially when that aid has no ulterior motives, when there is no hope of gratitude or payment. When it is done because it�s the right thing to do.

There are some, people who martyr themselves on the altar of charity, sacrificing their own lives, their own self or well-being for others. Too many of them, we find out later, aren�t as self-sacrifical or pure as we think. Mother Theresa let people writhe in pain, denying them painkillers and medicine, in some crazy belief about the cleansing power of pain. JFK was a womanizing, charming son of a bitch whose record might have been indelibly stained by the Bay of Pigs if he had not performed well once during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

At the end of the day, charity when you can afford it, when you yourself are stable, is the most real-life form. And yet� and yet, how sad is it that we should only offer help, that we will only offer help, when it�s convenient for us?

What a world we live in. Sadly, knowing all that, I still tune out the Kapre-variant and focus on the council. So many, thousands of them, all of them negotiating and socializing, each of them ready to sell out the other for an advantage for their civilization. Some nothing more than vassal states, others stubbornly independent, and still others wholly controlled by the big empires.

Turning on Society�s Web, I spot the cluster that makes up the Movana and the Truinnar, the main Ambassadors gone but their second-in-commands holding court. They stand in the central flow of the group, standing where others may watch them cluster, while their sycophants surround them in vassal groups.

Those planets sucking up for protection hover at the edges. Sometimes, one or another planetary ambassador breaks off to chat to these orbiting ambassadors as another deal, another agreement is worked out. But the center of these empires hold still as the worlds revolves around them.

The Erethrans have their own section, though it�s smaller, quieter. They�re standing and sitting around, focused and watching, their guard up. None of them bother to interact much, and the few who approach are rebuffed. Even in terms of volume, the Erethrans are smaller, but unlike the Movana or Truinnar, the Erethran Empire is more homogenous. Fewer planets need to have a seat here, passing their votes up the chain. Of course, the standoff nature of the Empire is getting more than a few side-eyes.

Especially by their ostentatious allies like the Fist or the Expansionists, all of whom have their own loose clumps. The political factions, unlike the Empires and Kingdom-based powers, are less clustered, more organic in their movements. But under Society�s Web, their secrets, their alliances, the flow of power is all an open book to me.

In the end, the vote is called for the poor vegetable-creature. A sphere, a giant shimmering globe, appears. Not that it ever left, just hidden from sight until now so as not to distract others.

The globe shifts in size, shrinking as the request is small, just a motion to restrict trade. He barely needs a tenth of the people to vote for his request to pass. If his request passes, it has to be paid for somehow, and the System enforces such payment on the planets and governments of the Council itself. To make a change, there has to be sacrifice. In this case, of System Mana to empower the choices that are being made.

It�s an interesting system, one that favors Dungeon Worlds like ours with our overabundance of Mana and thus an overabundance of weight to our potential actions. Of course, on a galactic scale, a single Dungeon Planet is worth only a few dozen other planets�less if one is lacking in System infrastructure, as is Earth. But it can still matter, especially if one is able to gain a significant number of Dungeon Worlds.

The voting sphere fills with pure System Mana in bursts and dribbles, as those who decide to support its cause pour in their efforts. Unfortunately, another aspect of the voting is that a vote, once cast�once System is dedicated�can never be taken back. A failed vote is just a waste, like the one below.

The Kapre-varient trundles off in failure, another speaker soon taking his place. The globe disappears, the Mana gone.

I watch, taking it all in, tracing the votes, the reactions of those below, their deals. With Ali�s help, I mark the votes, the voters, and the expected results of our own vote, tapping into my Neural Link to do the math, display the graphs. Watch as the numbers flow and bump, adding or subtracting as I mentally adjust the calculated percentages.

Trying to decide how close we are to succeeding. Trying to work out if we can hope to win.

***

Behind me, Harry comes out of the Sanctum. He looks� worse for wear. He�s holding on by the tips of his fingers to some form of sanity, some form of calm. He stumbles over to a chair near the windows and sits, staring at the assemblage below, his hands shaking. I jerk my head to Ali and the little Spirit floats over to have a quiet chat with the reporter, soon followed by Mikito.

Feh�ral stands, watching beside me. His eyes dart strangely at first, before I realize he�s reading unseen notification screens. Taking in information, though he declines to explain what kind when I ask. In fact, he seems disinclined to speak at all, even when I probe him for further information on the Questors.

The silence from within the domain stretches while the buzz of conversations and votes being made below permeate the room. Occasionally, I notice that the system puts in a vote for Earth, obviously a preset voting system. I leave it alone, choosing not to interfere.

Watching the votes pass by me, I can�t help but shake my head at many of them.

Condemnation of the destruction of the Dawn Will Guild

Registration of the boundary lines between the Kingdom of Ius and the Republic of Qx13

Application for Galactic Quest (localized) for destruction of the Tier II dungeons in PK-space

Budget Approval for the 248,815th Expedition to non-System space

Deployment request for Galactic Troops to the xv-138 region to reduce planetary dungeon overflows

And on and on. The hours grind past, and even when it seems there�s supposed to be an order to the votes, somehow, other motions, other bills and clauses and requests sneak their way in. It�s a bewildering array of bureaucratic magic, where planets trade voting rights or hand over speaking opportunities or offer to bring up a slate of previous issues, all to get their own areas voted upon.

A couple of times, sapients get a little too aggressive. Someone calls forth a rock, crushing an opponent. He in turn gets impaled on a rock spike and has to extract his mangled body from it by himself. Another pair, screaming at one another, find themselves suddenly unable to speak, the flesh of their mouths sealed shut, stitched over. Someone tries to interrupt for a third time when it�s not their turn. They�re teleported out of the Council chamber entirely and a penalty added to their planet�s Mana total, deducted immediately.

All of that is overseen by a wizened, twisted knot of string and hair. The Secretariat of the Council runs the Galactic Council with complete impartiality, holding to only one thing and that is the laws of the Council. Nothing, and no one, tells him how to run the hall.

Not even the Inner Council.

Of course, that he�s actually the puppet of the Weaver is a not-so-hidden secret. One that the powers that be�people like the Erethrans and, thus, me�know and the smaller players don�t. It�s why no one in the Inner Council objects when he runs roughshod over their own powerplays. So long as they play within the stated rules, they know he won�t interfere.

In a corner of my mind, I watch it all, absently noting that every single one of my Hands have now expired. I make sure to call them up, now that we�re here. Now that we have time. One wanders off to cook and eat, another to the study to read, and the last sits in a corner, brooding. I�d protest at the caricatures of my behavior if it wasn�t so damn accurate.

In time, I ignore them. I watch the proceedings below with interest in the beginning, before boredom takes me and I turn away. Harry watches and records, muttering explanations to himself and his viewers�eventual viewers�doing his best to provide commentary. He throws himself into his work, though I note the way his foot never stops bouncing, the occasional stuttered pause.

More than once, I note Harry cursing or muttering in bewilderment as a political maneuver catches him by surprise. A lot of the time, he mutters things about needing more research.

I leave him to it, glad that work has the reporter absorbed, and walk over to find Mikito seated in lotus position, hands clasped before her, and meditating. I sit across from her, only for the Samurai to crack an eye open.

�You should try it. It�ll calm your mind and center you.�

�Calm might not be the best option. They�ve killed all my doppelgangers. They must be wondering where we are by now.� I drop my voice lower, leaning in and adding, �And I don�t know how long the others will stay distracted.�

Mikito sighs, exhaling roughly before she fixes me with both eyes. �Will worrying change things?�

�No.�

�Then as you like to say, what is, is. There is nothing more that we can do. So eat some chocolate, meditate, and stop bothering me.�

She shuts her eyes and I find myself alone once more. Forced to stew in my own thoughts. With nothing better to do, I focus within, playing with not the System but my Elemental Affinity, gently sensing the flow of bonds, the force of attraction and repulsion that makes up the Affinity. I consider the weakness shown, my lack of ability. And I explore new concepts, new ways of interacting with the system�gently.

Time passes slowly, inching forward as votes and new clauses and constitutions are put into play. We�re forced to wait, until finally, finally, Harry speaks.

�It�s time,� Harry says, gesturing down below.

�You sure?� I say.

�Yes. This bill needs to be voted upon. Afterward, it will be yours, with no others set to speak.�

I look at Ali, who shrugs and nods at the same time, as if to say he�s as sure as he can be.

When I dither for a second more, Feh�ral speaks up. �Go.�

I stand, looking around at the group. A part of me wonders if this is the right thing to do. The right course of action. But I�ve gone this far. Sacrificed too much.

I close my eyes, then nod. �Fine. Let�s go save Earth.�

Chapter 25

The votes go as expected. The numbers climb fast then slow down, as those who hesitate, who are compromised by Earth or me hover between opposing or abstaining. The simple sphere fills with liquid blue Mana for each positive vote, sloshing around the sphere as some hesitate. The sphere itself is large, many times larger than the Kapre-variant�s and most other votes�. This is a long-term vote, one meant to enforce itself across the entire Galactic System, and is subsequently large.

The votes come, and while I wait for those who hesitate, I look upon the notification that hangs above the sphere. The one that holds all the hopes of Earth.

Motion to restrict Dungeon Planets from the Galactic Council

Requires 2398Q Unites of System Mana.

Effect: Strips Dungeon Planets of the Planetary System Network, foregoing voting rights on the Galactic Council and all System-enabled Planetary Upgrades.

Prior purchased System-enabled planetary networks will be refunded and/or modified to suit new restricted framework.

Eventually, the Mana stops entering, leaving a clear amount of space for liquid to enter. There�s a small demarcation line and the liquid filled is below that by a few hundred thousand Mana points. I�m surprised that we made it that far. That the abstainers have held out for so long, that the pressure and horse trading has done so well that the liquid sloshes near the edge of completion but does not cross it.

Yet.

The Erethrans, the Duchess, a few of our other allies hold the line. Refusing to throw their votes for the motion. Direct vassal states follow their lead in most cases, though I note a few quick glances, a couple of surprises that are revealed. Ramanner, amongst his people, gestures more than once to a few hard-eyed compatriots who look with glinting malice upon the ones who have betrayed them.

The liquid trembles on the edge of crossing. I watch as those who abstained are turned on or toward. The vultures and the grifters, the deal makers and the Negotiators arrive, ready to sway. I know some hold off for the better deal.

I wonder if I�ll make more enemies by what I do next. Cutting their deals short, making all their hard work and plans just so much wastepaper.

Then I grin. Because it doesn�t matter. I never gave a damn anyway.

***

My voice cuts through the hubbub, and the aliens� attention is drawn to my figure on the stage. The hair-and-string-ball of the Secretariat allowed the speech as per my right as one of the affected parties. The only affected party with a seat. It�s a little unusual to speak while the voting is happening, but not impossible.

As the Council stares at my figure, my words keep coming. Keeps pouring out, as if a dam is unleashed.

�I invoke my right, as proxy holder for the Dungeon Planet Earth, to speak about the motion.�

The Secretariat of the Council spins tendrils of hair and flesh together then pulls it apart creating a minor thunderclap. It silences the hall, the entire Council no longer able to make themselves heard to one another. A simple Skill.

�Thank you.�

The Secretariat doesn�t care, impassive eyes shifting to the timer that has appeared, indicating how much time I have to speak. Fifteen minutes. More than sufficient.

�You know, a decade or so ago, I was a barbarian with a stick in the middle of nowhere, watching the sunset on a beautiful lake. A nobody to the great and powerful personages before me. And then, you and your System came along. Rather than give us a chance to integrate peacefully, normally, you made us a Dungeon World.�

In the pause, in the silence, the aliens shift. I feel the information flow, the data passing and bouncing between Ambassadors and Diplomats and Bodyguards, as my presence is located. As they get ready to take me down when my time is up. Favors are called in and confirmed, bounties marked as pending collection. All this information flows, and attached to all that data streaming out of the Galactic Council, I sense the familiar touch of a friend�s Skill.

�You killed us. Billions of us humans. Transformed even more animals, some who might have become something more in a few tens of thousands of years. Altered the path of our destiny.� Exhale. Wry tone, almost amused. �Some of the survivors these days, some of them are grateful. Because when you made us a Dungeon World, you gave some of us strength. Power. Perks.

�You gave us a leg up, and some of us have taken it all the way to the stars. We�ve got Heroics now, and soon, we�ll have some of them in truth. Not a cheaty bastard like me, but people who earned it the hard way, wading through streets filled with blood, tearing through dungeons, and making it all the way through.�

I can see the speech is losing them. Some of them are shifting, turning away, getting bored. They�re wondering when I�ll get to the point, and I get it. I wonder about that too.

�We even did things you didn�t expect. United a Dungeon World before you realized it was possible. Made it our own and took our seat here. And then�� I gesture upward. �You try to take it away. Because we got too uppity, because we threatened your local cliques.�

A pause. A dramatic pause. Then, laughter, harsh and filled with bitter humor. It catches their wandering attention, brings their focus back to that small figure on the stage. The one taunting them, lecturing them.

�At least that was what you were told. Fed little lies, as if you were children, and satisfied with those little lies, thinking you were adults, you ran around with the sharp scissors of vindication and tore into us. Thinking that what you learnt is the truth.�

The Secretariat shifts, hair and tendrils twitching. But it makes no move to stop me. And so long as he doesn�t, no one else can, even if there are guards pounding at the shield surrounding the stage, trying to get in. Covert and not-so-covert attempts at breaching the shield are blocked with lazy ease. Some of the too obvious ones even die for their presumption.

�But it was easy to feed you those lies. Because all of you, coming light years across the galaxy to fight for scraps of power, for a chance to get ahead of everyone else, are too blind to see. You, who are meant to serve those who voted you in or those who you rule could not find the monster from the forest when you were too busy looking out for your own desires.

�And all the while, out there, people cry and die, struggling for some form of normalcy. Entire solar systems, billions of lives lost because you are all looking out for number one. Forget peace or social responsibility or justice.

�You people disgust me.�

I watch as the Counselors try to shout me down and fail. They�re all muted, but the looks I�m given tell me that my grandstanding is less than loved. I don�t care.

�Justice shouldn�t just be for those who can pay for it. For those who can spend the time and expertise to get it. You shouldn�t have to be willing to sacrifice everything to find it. It certainly shouldn�t be coming at the hands of an unhinged lunatic without any safeguards behind it.�

A slight dig there at myself. At Classes and Levels and the entire concept of might is right. Because sadly, that seems to be the only way the System works. At least, not without deep sacrifice.

�Justice is meant to be for everyone, at any place. And if the universe doesn�t work that way, well, what�s new? It�s never worked that way. But that�s your job in this chamber. To fix the wrongs an uncaring System creates, to offer a vestige of fairness that the slavering jaws of monsters do not.

�That�s what you chose to do. To make the galaxy a little fairer, a little brighter. A little more just. And you all failed. Because you�re so damn desperate for power.�

Voice, lower. The next words are said almost at a whisper. �But that�s all right. If you want power, if you want to know the truth, I�ll give it to you.�

More people are moving, some trying to approach the platform only to be rebuffed by the Secretariat�s shield. Others are leaving, as if they sense the danger of what is to come. More send out messages while others have never stopped recording what I�m saying, alerting their people, the guards.

�But first, let�s get this over with.�

I will my answer to the System and watch as the sphere hanging above the chamber darkens. As my vote for Earth floods in. Liquid System Mana pours into the globe, pushing the vote over the edge. There are gasps, shouts. More than a few of my allies look shocked as I finish what my enemies started.

I betray Katherine and Rob and Earth before the Council itself, taking away Earth�s seat.

In the shocked silence, I find myself grinning savagely. I watch as the galactic ensemble scrambles, as they work out the implications of what I�ve done. A small notification appears in the corner of my eyes, informing me that we no longer have the room, the embassies within seven days.

My allies are shocked. Some are barking orders to others, all of them closing ranks as they wonder what is happening.

�You think this matters? It doesn�t. You think Earth is that easy to take? Then try it. But you won�t find me there. You all seem to think it matters to me, so I figured I�d show you. Remind you.

�There are further secrets to be found. More power to acquire. Truths more important than some stupid, useless planet of uplifted apes.�

Above my all-too-cocky body, the timer shifts and reduces while the sphere pulses. Some others throw in their votes now, fulfilling vows and promises. Many others hold off, confusion warring with avarice.

And still, my voice drones on. �Real power. Not this sham.� A hand waves over the surrounding seats, taking them all in. �Because you�ve been lied to all your life. For millennia, you�ve been spoon-fed a lie, as if your broken, warped seats matter.

�But this is the truth.�

I push my Status Screen outward. Fighting the Title, making it turn off. There�s a block, a System Administrator-level block against what I�m trying to do. I pitch myself against it, feel the security responses from the administrative block flood into my body, tearing at it. I burn, body twisting and nerves flooding with Mana. My knees give way, my nose bleeds, my eyes squeeze shut. Pain racks my body as the Administrators� security systems attempt to stop what I�m doing.

I pitch myself against their defenses and find myself failing. Failing�until something deeper, something hard-coded into the very bonds of the System itself takes action. It comes like a tsunami wave of System Mana that takes no prisoners, that cares not for the swimmers on the beach. My health drops precipitously again as it �helps.�

My body glows blue, green, white as directed System Mana floods into me from outside, healing my body. My friends aid my efforts, keeping me alive as the System and I battle the Administrators, changing the code.

Finally, the barrier, the permissions that were blocking me from showing this to the vast public give way.

John Lee, Redeemer of the Dead, Monster�s Bane, Redeemer of the Dead, Duelist, Explorer, Apprentice Questor, Galactic Silver Bounty Hunter,�, (Junior System Administrator Level l6)

HP: 4138/6300

MP: 8674/6350

My voice, speaking to them all. I�m being carried away, hands gripping me, pulling me aside as regeneration kicks in, patching me together even as the overabundance of System Mana slowly flows away, slowly breaks down.

�A lie. Because you are but pawns in a world you�ve never seen and yet still insist is real. If you want answers, ask your Inner Council. Ask them why they�ve hidden this secret from you. Ask them about the shadows behind the throne, the ones who manipulate everything you believe in, that change the very fabric of the System. Ask them why the System is theirs to manipulate�and not yours.�

Voices rise, shouting, screaming, asking questions and demanding answers. The voices are as diverse as the audience, and fights have begun. So much so that even the shield around the stage is failing as the massed volume of the Council take action.

�Ask them how many lies they�ve really told and how many Classes they�ve rendered useless. What they�ve hidden from you by hiding away this Class.� A pause. �And what it means that the System itself fights them.�

A small timer in the corner of my eyes ticks over.

Time�s up.

Explosions of Mana. Skills and spells thrown at one another, at the stage. An assault and retaliation, and the council chambers devolve into pure chaos. Some, the more opportunistic, lash out at rivals. The Secretariat disappears, leaving the Council to deal with itself.

Spells and Skills wash over the figure on the stage, taking down its Soul Shield within seconds, consuming its health. That it laughs, as though the destruction is but a small matter. I feel the snap of the doppelganger�s death, the flood of knowledge as information returns to me.

Information, long suppressed, breaks free. And like any dark truth, any secret long held close, its revelation leaves chaos and hurt behind. There are some secrets, some knowledge that can only ever bring pain and tragedy.

And I�ve just revealed the galactic-sized version of one.

###

THE END

John and his team are on the run, from former friends and new enemies. There�s only one place of safety for them now. Only one option. To finish the System Quest in the Forbidden Zone (Book 11 of the System Apocalypse).

Epilogue

We run.

After dropping the bombshell and setting the entire Council chamber alight with speculation and recrimination, we run.

There�s no going back for us now, no home to return to. I�ve betrayed not just the Council and the Administrators, but Earth too. It�s all for a good cause�to take the target off Earth�s back and place it firmly on mine. The betrayal probably stings just as much even if they realize that truth.

I�ve completed my commitments, even if it�s not the way they expected it. Perhaps the Duchess and the Lady are happy. Most likely not.

In either case, there�s no turning back now. We have to find the answer or die.

So we run. Attempting to escape the death trap that is the Council Hall and Irvina itself. To locate a single Administrative Center in the middle of the Forbidden Zone, where perhaps�

Perhaps there are answers.

We run, with the hounds baying at our feet, ritual glyphs forming over our heads and Skills flying. Toward hope, toward danger, toward an end.

Finally.

Author�s Note

Broken Council starts the final arc of the System Apocalypse series. Having drawn the ire of the Galactic Council, and revealed one of their greatest secrets, there is nowhere left for him to run. John�s only hope, only goal now is the System Quest. In finding the answer, he might find a solution.

This book was rather complex to write. I had to fit multiple plot threads in, close off some and work in some character arcs that I�ve wanted to do in a while. Trying to make sure it all made sense while giving a satisfying conclusion was tough, especially figuring out where the end of this book was meant to be.

As always, I�m grateful for everyone who has followed me on this long journey. I�ve received more support for this little story in my head than I could ever expect. I truly do hope that you�ve enjoyed the journey thus far.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please do leave a review and rating. Reviews are the lifeblood of authors and help others choose to continue with the series or not.

In addition, please check out my other series, the Adventures on Brad (a more traditional young adult LitRPG fantasy), Hidden WishesHidden Wishes(https://readerlinks.com/l/971659)

(an urban fantasy GameLit series), and A Thousand LiA Thousand Li(https://readerlinks.com/l/971660)

(a cultivation series inspired by Chinese xianxia novels).

To support me directly, please go to my Patreon account:

https://www.patreon.com/taowonghttps://www.patreon.com/taowong(https://www.patreon.com/taowong)

For more great information about LitRPG series, check out the Facebook groups:

- GameLit SocietyGameLit Society(https://www.facebook.com/groups/LitRPGsociety/)

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About the Author

For updates on the series and other books written by Tao Wong (and special one-shot stories), please visit the author�s website:

http://www.mylifemytao.comhttp://www.mylifemytao.com(http://www.mylifemytao.com)

Or visit his Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/(https://www.facebook.com/taowongauthor/)

About the Publisher

For more information Starlit Publishing, visit our websiteStarlit Publishing, visit our website(https://www.starlitpublishing.com) !

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Books in the

System Apocalypse Universe

Main Storyline

Life in the North

Redeemer of the Dead

The Cost of Survival

Cities in Chains

Coast on Fire

World Unbound

Stars Awoken

Rebel Star

Stars Asunder

Broken Council

Forbidden Zone

System Finale

Anthologies

System Apocalypse Short Story Anthology Volume 1

Comic Series

The System Apocalypse Comics (On-going)

Glossary

Erethran Honor Guard Skill Tree

John�s Erethran Honor Guard Skills

Mana Imbue (Level 5)

Blade Strike (Level 5)

By projecting additional Mana and stamina into a strike, the Erethran Honor Guard�s Soulbound weapon may project a strike up to 50 feet away.

Cost: 50 Stamina + 50 Mana

Thousand Steps (Level 1)

Movement speed for the Honor Guard and allies are increased by 5% while skill is active. This ability is stackable with other movement-related skills.

Cost: 20 Stamina + 20 Mana per minute

Altered Space (Level 2)

Two are One (Level 1)

Effect: Transfer 10% of all damage from Target to Self

Cost: 5 Mana per second

The Body�s Resolve (Level 3)

Greater Detection (Level 1)

Effect: User may now detect System creatures up to 1 kilometer away. General information about strength level is provided on detection. Stealth skills, Class skills, and ambient Mana density will influence the effectiveness of this skill. Mana regeneration reduced by 5 Mana per minute permanently.

A Thousand Blades (Level 4)

Soul Shield (Level 8)

Effect: Creates a manipulable shield to cover the caster�s or target�s body. Shield has 2,750 Hit Points.

Cost: 250 Mana

Blink Step (Level 2)

Effect: Instantaneous teleportation via line-of-sight. May include Spirit�s line of sight. Maximum range�500 meters.

Cost: 100 Mana

Portal (Level 5)

Effect: Creates a 5-meter by 5-meter portal which can connect to a previously traveled location by user. May be used by others. Maximum distance range of portals is 10,000 kilometers.

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute (minimum cost 350 Mana)

Army of One (Level 4)

Cost: 750 Mana

Sanctum (Level 2)

Dimensions: Maximum 15 cubic meters.

Cost: 1,000 Mana

Duration: 2 minute and 7 seconds

Paladin of Erethra Skill Tree

John�s Paladin of Erethra Skills

Penetration (Level 9�Evolved)

Few can face the judgment of a Paladin in direct combat, their ability to bypass even the toughest of defenses a frightening prospect. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 45 permanently.

Effect: Ignore all armor and defensive Skills and spells by 90%. Increases damage done to shields and structural supports by 175%.

Secondary Effect: Damage that is resisted by spells, armor, Skills and Resistances is transferred to an Evolved Skill shield at a ratio of 1 to 1.

Duration: 85 minutes

Aura of Chivalry (Level 1)

Note: Aura may be activated or left-off at will.

Beacon of the Angels (Level 2)

Effect: 1000 Mana Damage done to all enemies, structures and vehicles within the maximum 25-meter column of attack

Mana Cost: 500 Mana

Eyes of Insight (Level 1)

Under the eyes of a Paladin, all untruth and deceptions fall away. Only when the Paladin can see with clarity may he be able to judge effectively. Reduces Mana Regeneration by 5.

Eye of the Storm (Level 1)

Cost: 500 Mana + 20 Mana per second

Vanguard of the Apocalypse (Level 2)

Effect: +45 to all Physical attributes, increases speed by 55% and recovery rates by 35%. This Skill is stackable on top of other attribute and speed boosting Skills or spells.

Cost: 500 Mana + 10 Stamina per second

Society�s Web (Level 1)

Effect: Upon activation, the Paladin will see all threads that tie each individual to one another and automatically understand the details of each thread when focused upon.

Cost: 400 Mana + 200 Mana per minute

Immovable Object / Unstoppable Force (Level 1)

Effect 1 (Immovable Object): Constitution, Health and Damage Resistance (All) increased by 200% of User�s current total. All knockback effects are mitigated (including environmental knockback effects).

Effect 2 (Unstoppable Force): Agility, Movement Speed, Momentum and Damage Calculations based off Momentum increased by 200% of User�s current total. Damage from other attacks increased by 100%. Only active while user is moving.

Cost: 5 Mana per second

Domain (Level 1)

Effect 1: All enemy combatants receive -10% attribute decreases, a +10% increase in Mana cost and lose 25 HP per second while within range of the Domain.

Effect 2: All allies receive a +10% increase in health regeneration, a 10% increase in attributes, and a reduction of -10% in Mana cost (semi-stackable).

Range: 10 Meters

Cost: 500 Mana + 5 Mana per Second

Judgment of All (Level 6)

An Emperor might sit in judgment of those that defy them, but a Paladin sits in judgment of all who fall before his gaze. Desire bends and debases itself. Duty shatters under the weight of ever greater burdens. Morality shifts under the winds of circumstance. In the eyes of those he serves, a Paladin�s judgment must be impeccable. Under his gaze, those underserving will fall. So long as his honor holds true, judgment will follow.

Effect: Skill inflicts (Erethran Reputation*$HonSysCal*1.5 = 442) points of on-going Mana damage to all judged unworthy within perception range of user.

Duration: 65 seconds

Cost: 1000 MP

Grand Paladin Skills

Grand Cross (Level 2)

Effect: Damage done equals to (Willpower * 2.2) per square meter over radius of (1/10th of Perception2) meters. Damage may be increased by reducing radius of the Grand Cross. Does additional (Willpower) points of damage per second for 11 seconds.

Cost: 2000 MP

Extra Hands (Level 1)

A Paladin can never be everywhere he needs to be. But with this Skill, the Grand Paladin can certainly be in more places. Mana Regeneration reduced by 5 permanently.

Cost: 5000 Mana per duplicate.

Upkeep cost: 5000 Mana per day per duplicate. Must be paid by original Skill user.

Effect: Creates maximum two duplicates of the user. Duplicates have 90% of all (unboosted) Attributes, gain no effects from Titles and may not equip Soulbound weapons but has access to all (non-purchased) Skills of user. Each duplicate has their own Mana pool but regenerate at 50% of normal regeneration levels. Mana levels take the place of health points for duplicates.

Original Skill user has a telepathic connection to duplicates at all times and will receive a download of duplicate memories upon their destruction or cessation of upkeep costs.

Note: This Skill cannot be used by duplicates

Junior Administrator Skills

System Edit

A core Skill for System Administrators.

Effect: Make trivial to minor amendments to System processes

Cost: Variable (HP & MP)

Other Class Skills

Frenzy (Level 1)

Effect: When activated, pain is reduced by 80%, damage increased by 30%, stamina regeneration rate increased by 20%. Mana regeneration rate decreased by 10%

Frenzy will not deactivate until all enemies have been slain. User may not retreat while Frenzy is active.

Cleave (Level 2)

Effect: Physical attacks deal 60% more base damage. Effect may be combined with other Class Skills.

Cost: 25 Mana

Elemental Strike (Level 1�Ice)

Effect: Used to imbue a weapon with freezing damage. Adds +5 Base Damage to attacks and a 10% chance of reducing speed by 5% upon contact. Lasts for 30 seconds.

Cost: 50 Mana

Instantaneous Inventory (Maxed)

Allows user to place or remove any System-recognized item from Inventory if space allows. Includes the automatic arrangement of space in the inventory. User must be touching item.

Cost: 5 Mana per item

Shrunken Footsteps (Level 1)

Tech Link (Level 2)

Designated Technological Items: Neural Link, Hodo�s Triple Forged Armor

Analyze (Level 2)

Harden (Level 2)

Effect: Reduces penetrative effects of attacks by 30% on targeted defense.

Cost: 3 Mana per second

Quantum Lock (Level 3)

Requirements: 200 Willpower, 200 Intelligence

Area of Effect: 100 meter radius around user

Cost: 250 + 50 Mana per Minute

Elastic Skin (Level 3)

Disengage Safeties (Level 2)

Effects: Increase power output from 2.5-25% depending on the weapon and its level of sophistication. Increase durability losses from use by 25-250%.

Cost: 200 Mana + 25 Mana per minute

Temporary Forced Link (Level 1)

Effect: Skill and Skill effects are forcibly combined. Final effect results will vary depending on level of compatibility of Skills.

Cost: 250 Mana + 10 Mana per minute (plus original Skill cost)

Hyperspace Nitro Boost (Level 1)

Effect: 15% increase in hyperspace engine efficiency + variable % increase in efficiency at 1% per surplus Mana. Each additional 1% over base raises chance of catastrophic engine failure by 0.01%

Cost: 250 Mana + (surplus variable amount; minimum 200 Mana increments) per minute

On the Edge (Level 1)

Effect: +10% boost in ship handling and maneuverability. +10% passive increase in all piloting skills. +1% increase per increment of surplus Mana

Cost: 100 Mana per level + (surplus variable amount; minimum 100 Mana increments) per minute

Fate�s Thread (Level 2)

Effect: Fate Thread allows the user to bind individuals together by making what is already there apparent. Thread is made physical and may be used to pull, tie and bind.

Duration: 2 minutes

Cost: 60 Mana

Peasant�s Fury (Level 1)

No one knows loss more than the powerless. The Downtrodden Peasant has taken the fury of the powerless and made it his own, gifting them the strength to go on so long as they Manage to make others feel the same loss that they did. -5 Mana Regeneration per Second

Effect: User receives a 0.1% regeneration effect of damage dealt for each 1% of health loss.

Spells

Improved Minor Healing (IV)

Effect: Heals 40 Health per casting. Target must be in contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 20 Mana

Improved Mana Missile (IV)

Effect: Creates four missiles out of pure Mana, which can be directed to damage a target. Each dart does 30 damage. Cooldown 10 seconds

Cost: 35 Mana

Enhanced Lightning Strike

Lightning Strike may be continuously channeled to increase damage for 10 additional damage per second.

Cost: 75 Mana.

Continuous cast cost: 5 Mana / second

Lightning Strike may be enhanced by using the Elemental Affinity of Electromagnetic Force. Damage increased by 20% per level of affinity

Greater Regeneration (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Firestorm

Effect: Create a firestorm with a radius of 5 meters. Deals 250 points of fire damage to those caught within. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Polar Zone

Effect: Create a thirty-meter diameter blizzard that freezes all targets within one. Does 10 points of freezing damage per minute plus reduces effected individuals speed by 5%. Cooldown 60 seconds.

Cost: 200 Mana

Greater Healing (II)

Effect: Heals 100 Health per casting. Target does not require contact during healing. Cooldown 60 seconds per target.

Cost: 75 Mana

Mana Drip (II)

Effect: Increases natural health regeneration of target by 6%. Only single use of spell effective on a target at a time.

Duration: 10 minutes

Cost: 100 Mana

Freezing Blade

Effect: Enchants weapon with a slowing effect. A 5% slowing effect is applied on a successful strike. This effect is cumulative and lasts for 1 minute. Cooldown 3 minutes

Spell Duration: 1 minute.

Cost: 150 Mana

Improved Inferno Strike (II)

A beam of heat raised to the levels of an inferno, able to melt steel and earth on contact! The perfect spell for those looking to do a lot of damage in a short period of time.

Effect: Does 200 Points of Heat Damage

Cost: 150 Mana

MudWalls

Unlike its more common counterpart Earthen Walls, Mud Walls focus is more on dealing slow, suffocating damage and restricting movement on the battlefield.

Effect: Does 20 Points of Suffocating Damage. -30% Movement Speed

Duration: 2 Minutes

Cost: 75 Mana

Create Water

Pulls water from the elemental plane of water. Water is pure and the highest form of water available. Conjures 1 liter of water. Cooldown: 1 minute

Cost: 50 Mana

Scry

Cost: 25 Mana per minute.

Scrying Ward

Blocks scrying spells and their equivalent within 5 meters of caster. Higher level spells may not be blocked, but caster may be alerted about scrying attempts. Cooldown: 10 minutes

Cost: 50 Mana per minute

Improved Invisibility

Hides target�s System information, aura, scent, and visual appearance. Effectiveness of spell is dependent upon Intelligence of caster and any Skills or Spells in conflict with the target.

Cost: 100 + 50 Mana per minute

Improved Mana Cage

Cost: 200 Mana + 75 Mana per minute

Improved Flight

Cost: 250 Mana + 100 Mana per minute

Equipment

Hod�s Triple Fused Armor

Core: Class I Hallow Physics Mana Engine

CPU: Class B Wote Core CPU

Armor Rating: Tier I (Enhanced)

Hard Points: 9 (6 Used�Jungian Flight System, Talpidae Abyssal Horns, Luione Hard Light Projectors, Diarus Poison Stingers, Ares Type I Shield Generator, Greater Troll Cell Injectors)

Soft Points 4 (3 Used�Neural Link, Ynir HUD Imaging, Airmed Body Monitor)

Battery Capacity: 380/380

Active Skills: Abyssal Chains, Mirror Shade, Poison Grip

Attribute Bonuses: +93 Strength, +78 Agility, +51 Constitution, +44 Perception, +287 Stamina and Health Regeneration per minute

Note: Hod�s Triple Fused Armor is currently under limited warranty. Armor may be teleported to Hod�s workshop for repairs once a week. All cost of repairs will be deducted from user�s account.

Skills in Hod�s Armor:

Abyssal Chains

Calling upon the material connection to the shadow plane, chains from the abyss erupt, binding a target in place.

Effect: Target is bound by shadow chains. Chains deal 10 points of damage per second. To break free, target must win a contested Strength test. Abyssal Chains have a Strength of 120.

Uses: 3/3

Recharge rate: 1 per hour

Mirror Shade

Mirror Shade creates a semi-solid doppelganger using hard light technology and Mana.

Effect: Mirror Shade create a semi-solid doppelganger of the user for a period of ten minutes. Maximum range of doppelganger from user is fifty meters. Doppelganger has 18% physical fidelity.

Use: 1/1

Recharge Rate: 1 per 4 hours

Silversmith Jeupa VII Anti-Personnel Cannon (Modified & Upgraded)

Base Damage: 787 per barrel

Battery Capacity: 4 per barrel (16 total)

Recharge Rate: 0.25 per hour per GMU

Ares Platinum Class Tier II Armored Jumpsuit

Effect: +218 Defense, +14% Resistance to Kinetic and Energy Attacks. +19% Resistance against Temperature changes. Self-Cleanse, Self-Mend, Autofit Enchantments also included.

Silversmith Mark VIII Beam Pistol (Upgradeable)

Base Damage: 88

Battery Capacity: 13/13

Recharge Rate: 3 per hour per GMU

Tier IV Neural Link

Neural link may support up to 5 connections.

Current connections: Hod�s Triple Fused Armor

Software Installed: Rich�lki Firewall Class IV, Omnitron III Class IV Controller

Ferlix Type I Twinned-Beam Rifle (Modified)

Base Damage: 39

Battery Capacity: 41/41

Recharge rate: 1 per hour per GMU

Tier II Sword (Soulbound Personal Weapon of an Erethran Honor Guard)

Base Damage: 397

Durability: N/A (Personal Weapon)

Special Abilities: +20 Mana Damage, Blade Strike

Kryl Ring of Regeneration

Often used as betrothal bands, Kyrl rings are highly sought after and must be ordered months in advance.

Health Regeneration: +30

Stamina Regeneration: +15

Mana Regeneration: +5

Tier III Bracer of Mana Storage

A custom work by an unknown maker, this bracer acts a storage battery for personal Mana. Useful for Mages and other Classes that rely on Mana. Mana storage ratio is 50 to 1.

Mana Capacity: 350/350

Fey-steel Dagger

Base Damage: 28

Durability: 110/100

Special Abilities: None

Enchanted, Reinforced Toothy Throwing Knives (5)

Base Damage: 238

Enchantments: Return, Mana Blade (+28 Damage), Pierce (-7% defense)

Brumwell Necklace of Shadow Intent

Ring of Greater Shielding

Max Duration: 7 Minutes

Charges: 1

Simalax Hover Boots (Tier II)

Duration: 1.98 SI Hours.

F�Merc Nanoswarm Mana Grenades (Tier II)

The F�Merc Nanoswarm Grenades are guaranteed to disrupt the collection of Mana in a battlefield, reducing Mana Regeneration rates for those caught in the swarm. Recommended by the I�um military, the Torra Special Forces and the No.1 Most Popular Mana Grenade as voted by the public on Boom, Boom, Boom! Magazine.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates and spell formation in affected area by 37% ((higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 10m x 10m

Daghtree�s Legendary Ring of Deception (Tier I)

Effect: Creates a powerful disguise that covers the wearer. The ring comes with six pre-loaded disguises and additional disguises may be added through expansion of charges

Duration: 1 day per charge

Charges: 3

Recharge via ambient Mana: 1 charge per Galactic Standard Unit per week

F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal Grenades (Tier I)

The F�Merc Ghostlight Mana Dispersal Grenades not only disperse Mana in the battlefield, the Ghostlight Dispersal Grenades degrade all Mana Skills and spells within its field of effectiveness. Used by Krolash the Destroyer, the Erethran Champion Isma (prior version) and Anblanca Special Forces. Five times Winner of the Most Annoying Utility Item on the Battlefield.

Effect: Reduces Mana Regeneration rates, Skill and spell formation use in affected area by 67% ((higher effects in enclosed areas)

Radius: 15m3

Evernight Darkness Orbs

When the world goes light, the Evernight Darkness Orbs will bring back blessed darkness. If you need darkness, you need Evernight!

Effect: Removes al visible light and mute infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths by 30%

Radius: 50m3

Seven Heavenly Spire Wards

Effect: Set�s up a 30� by 30� defensive ward; protects against both magical and technological attacks and entry

Fumikara Mobile Teleport Circles

These one-off use mobile teleport circles allow connection to existing and open teleport networks.

Effect: Connect to open teleport networks within a 5,000 kim radius of the teleport circles. Allows teleportation of individuals to the networked teleport centers

PoenJoe Goleminised-Mana Generator Mark 18

Effect: It�s a Power Generator. Guaranteed to provide up to 98 x 10*99 Standard Galactic Mana Units

*Not actually guaranteed. In fact, we�re 100% certain that containment failure will occur.

Payload (Level 2) (Embedded in Anklet of Dispersed Damage)

Sometimes, you need to get your Skills inside a location. Payload allows you to imbue an individual or item with a Skill at a reduced strength.

Effect: 71% effectiveness of Skill imbued.

Secondary Effect: Skill may be now triggered on a timed basis (max 2:07 minutes)

Uses: 22

Recharge: 10.7 charges per day in SGE