Back at camp, the waiting begins. There’s nothing to do but kill time until the raid. I plan to do more scouting to see if I can find any monsters lurking around.

I wasn’t convinced every threat was confined to dungeons just yet. For now, I start practicing the new sword forms in the clearing while Mischief lounges in the sun.

Even with all the knowledge burned into my mind, my sword forms are clumsy and awkward. But the slow, deliberate movements are grounding, and before I know it, time melts away. It’s not until I see Mischief flick his ears and stand that I finally stop.

Pulled from my forms, I roll my shoulders and take a look around.

Has it been seven days already? That would be nice. But no, the raid isn’t starting—it’s something else.

In the trees across the clearing, a group of six people moves cautiously through my territory. All but one are armed. One, who looks no older than seventeen, has a large two-handed axe strapped to his back.

My instincts tighten. The memory of my last ‘guest’ has been on a loop in my head for three days.

"Mischief, I don’t think they’ve seen you. Let’s hope this goes better than last time. For now, stay out of sight. Ok?"

Mischief slinks off, vanishing like a shadow. His ability to disappear is terrifying.

The group continues across the clearing, and I walk out to meet them. The unarmed man raises his hands, signaling no harm. We close the distance, stopping at a comfortable range to speak.

My heart is pounding but I try to stay calm.

I force a smile, ignoring the sweat on my palms. "Hello, travelers. What brings you to my humble camp?" The second it’s out, I cringe. Hello, travelers? Really?

The older man, probably in his forties, waves back. “Hi there, my name is Jared. We ran into some trouble on the way here.” He nods toward the campground. “Saw smoke and figured it was worth checking out.”

I force myself to breathe evenly."Trouble?" My eyes flick over them, scanning for injuries. "What kind?"

Jared exhales, rubbing his neck. His shoulders sag. "It’s a bit of a story. I’m happy to share, of course, but maybe we wait for the rest of your party? Save me telling it twice."

Wait. Had they seen Mischief?

"When we entered your territory, I got a notification—this land is already claimed, and stage two has started. We've already faced a raid. If your group hasn’t yet, we’d be happy to share what we know."

I let out a breath, so they hadn’t seen him yet. “Well, I appreciate that, but I’m not really too worried about it. As for my party, it’s just me and my friend, but he’s out right now.”

"Just you and your friend?" Jared frowns, eyes narrowing. "How did you clear all the dungeons?”

I shrug. “Finding them was a pain, but they weren’t so bad. We even nailed a couple of perfect scores. Should’ve gotten all three, but I kind of bungled the last one. How about you guys?”

Jared’s frown deepens. “I’m sorry, but you’re saying that you cleared all three dungeons and the trial dungeon with just you and your friend?”

I nod. “Yeah, but like I said, it took a while to find them.”

Jared hesitates. “And… a perfect score?”

“If you clear a dungeon without taking damage, you get an extra reward. We managed two out of three. Should’ve been all three, but I forgot to cast Barrier.”

Jared’s lips part, like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes flick to his group. What is he feeling? Unease, suspicion, awe? I can’t tell. I hope it’s awe.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Oh right, sorry. My name is Layton.”

Jared nods, though his expression remains unreadable. “We have a member of our party who mentioned being able to choose a barrier spell. Her name is Elise—she’s a healer. Would I be right to assume that’s your class as well?”

“That I am,” I say unashamed.

Jared exhales slowly, rubbing his jaw. His gaze flickers over me, then back to his group. “Would you mind if we talked in private for a moment?”

I raise an eyebrow. Then just shrug. “Yeah of course.”

Instead of standing hands in my pocket, I walk back to my fire.

With my enhanced senses, I could probably listen in if I wanted to. I decide against it. Privacy is important. After a few minutes of discussion, Jared approaches me again, and I stand.

“Layton, would you briefly allow me to explain how we came to be in our predicament?” Jared asks.

I just nod, and he explains how his group was formed, how they cleared their dungeons, and how they were led by a strong and capable fighter—Matt—who was later murdered by my old friend Richard.

“What you see out there—that’s all we have left. The rest are craftsmen. We had no choice but to abandon our territory.”

He exhales, shaking his head. “The raids aren’t a joke. We barely made it through—only because of Matt.”

His voice tightens. “Even Richard was a capable fighter, and we still lost everything. We’re running low on food. Nowhere to go.”

Jared meets my gaze. “Your friend seems strong. He must be if you handled your dungeons with just the two of you. If we work together, we might have a shot. What do you say?”

I nod, absorbing his story. If anything, it just reassures me that letting Richard die was the right choice. But if I’m honest… I hadn’t known just how bad he was. That’s the part that lingers—the fact that I made a call before I had all the answers. And yet? I still don’t regret it. Maybe that’s something I should think about. Just… not right now.

I exhale. “Jared, I appreciate you telling me all this. And I’m sorry for what your people have gone through.” I pause before adding, “First thing you should know—Richard won’t be a problem anymore.”

Jared frowns. “My friend took care of him. Four days ago, Richard tried to kill him. Then he came after me. It was self-defense.”

I don’t look away. “I have no regrets.” A beat of silence. “Matt seemed like an impressive man. I’m sorry.”

Jared exhales sharply, running a hand over his face. “Richard’s dead.”

It’s not a question. More like he’s confirming it for himself. His gaze drops, jaw tightening. I can’t tell if he’s relieved or just exhausted. Probably both.

I let the truth sync in. While Jared is processing I look to his people. They seem competent. Capable, even. But this is my fight. If they hadn’t arrived it would’ve been just Mischief and myself.

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I shake my head. “As far as the raid? Thank you, but no. I’d like to handle that on my own.”

Jared is at a loss for words. “Layton, I’m certain if we combine strength, we have a great shot, especially with two healers! We have nowhere else to go—I promise we won’t be a burden.”

“Wait, hold on. You don’t have to leave,” I say, waving a hand. “It’s just that I want to try my hand at the raid with my friend first.”

Jared shakes his head. “Layton, you don’t understand what you are dealing with. Even with Matt, Richard and seven days to build up defenses we barely pulled through.”

I shrug. “I get why you’re worried. But I think it will be ok.”

Jared opens his mouth like he wants to argue but stops himself. He exhales sharply, clearly frustrated.

I wave a hand. “Look, if you’re going to stay, you should probably meet my friend first.”

Jared still looks tense. I get it—I’m not exactly rolling out the red carpet here.

He crosses his arms, thinking it over. “I suppose that would help put my mind at ease.”

I smirk. Yeah, I doubt that.

“Just don’t freak out, and know that he understands what you say but can’t speak back. Do I have your word that you’ll stay calm?”

Jared looks confused. “Is he dangerous?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. But he won’t hurt you. You have my word.” Jared takes a deep breath, then nods.

“Okay, Mischief, you heard the man, but don’t be creepy or anything. These people seem better than that last dick.”

Mischief stalks out of the trees. He’s a true unit now, pushing 300 lbs. Jared stumbles backward, tripping over a rock and landing on his ass.

“You don’t have to worry—he isn’t going to hurt you. Right, Mischief?” Mischief shrugs and gives a slow nod of his massive head.

“Your friend is a giant cougar?!” Jared stammers.

“His name is Mischief, and I can honestly say I would have died without his help.” I pat his back. “I trust Mischief with my life. If you can get on board with that and are okay with us fighting the raid, then you’re welcome to stay.”

Jared hesitates, looking back at his group. After a moment, he nods. “I’ll need to talk with my team before I can give you an answer. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

Jared jogs back to his people. I glance at Mischief. “What do you think? Do you trust this group?” Mischief gives a lazy shrug.

“Yeah, I like Jared a whole lot more than Richard. Still, no one can hold a candle to you, big guy.” I pat Mischief’s head, and he snorts before walking off to lie down.

Nearly an hour later, Jared returns. “We’re grateful you’re willing to let us stay, and we’d like to accept your offer. Under one condition: we want to prepare a contingency plan in case you can’t repel the raid. We’d like to be ready with defenses.”

“That’s fair enough,” I say, reaching out my hand.

Jared clasps my hand. It’s a firm grip, steady. But I can still see it—doubt. He doesn’t fully trust me.

And honestly? I’d be worried if he did.

-

Jared walked back to his group, mind racing.

Was this the right choice?

There was no doubt in his mind—Layton had only survived this long because of that monster. That mountain lion, that unnatural beast, could wipe out his entire group alone if it wanted. How Layton had managed to tame it, Jared had no idea. Maybe it had something to do with his healing? If they survived this raid, he’d press for more answers.

But the beast wasn’t what confused him the most. Layton was.

He was utterly unremarkable—just a guy in a torn leather jacket, battered pants, and a casual attitude that didn’t match the reality of this world. Maybe six feet tall, athletic but not exactly intimidating.

And yet…

Layton shouldn’t be alive. Not without a team. Not with a healer’s class. He should have died in the first raid, like so many others. And yet here he was—unscathed, unbothered, acting like this world hadn’t chewed up and spit out everyone else.

Jared had seen survivors before. They were hardened, haunted. But Layton? He was casual. And that was what scared him the most. For the thousandth time Jared wished Matt was still alive.

“What did he say?” Alex asked as Jared got within earshot.

“He agreed to our conditions. That means we have work to do.” Jared’s voice was firm. “I want three towers and a safety bunker built. If things go south, we need a fallback plan. We can’t afford any more losses.” He turned to Alex. “Gather the others. We’ve got just over six days to prepare.”

“Deja Vu.” Alex huffed. But the group snapped into motion.

Elise glanced at the clearing, voice hesitant. “They’re seriously going to do this? Just the two of them?”

She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Are they crazy?”

Jared exhaled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “The boy’s a healer like you. That doesn’t inspire much confidence.”

His gaze drifted back to the clearing where Layton casually practiced his sword forms while the lion lounged in the sun.

Jared clenched his jaw. “But that thing? That mountain lion? It’s a monster. I have no doubt it could kill all of us if it wanted.”

Elise swallowed hard.

Jared shook his head, turning back to the fortifications. “Either way, we’ll be ready.”

-

For six days, Jared, and his people work non-stop.

Felling trees. Erecting spike fences. Building a crude palisade. Everything to prepare for the raid. They had done this all before.

And while they all worked? Layton did nothing but train. Mischief barely acknowledged their efforts.

Jared gritted his teeth, watching Layton move through his sword drills like the world wasn’t about to collapse around him.

Was he really this naive?

His survival instincts screamed at him to confront Layton—to demand he take this seriously. On more than one occasion nearly did. He had to keep reminding himself it wasn’t his place. They would learn the hard way. If things went south they would intervene.

The day of the raid arrived. The fortifications weren’t perfect, but Jared was proud of them. They’d done everything they could. Unlike his new allies.

Then, the air shimmered. Jared’s stomach dropped. “It’s here, get into your positions!”

His archers climbed the towers, eyes locked on the clearing. Then, it came.

A rift in space, crackling with energy. Bigger than the one that had hit his own camp. Much bigger.

And then—they poured out. Jared’s breath hitched. A hundred of them.

Towering, green-skinned brutes, built like living siege weapons. Weapons of bone and rusted steel. Savage. Primitive. Brutal.

Compared to the unassuming young man these monsters were giants. Jareds nails dug into the wood on the tower he watched from. “If they go down, we move in. We can’t afford to lose this land.”

Jareds annoyance boiled as he looked down at the child and his cat. He will run, he knows better than to face these odds.

But then—Layton stepped towards the monsters…and waved?

Layton was shouting something. Jared couldn’t make the words out from his tower. Layton was waving his arms in some kind of mocking gestures.

Jared blinked. “What the hell is he—?”

The biggest of the raiders stepped forward, roaring in response.

Layton glanced at Mischief. The massive feline shook its head.

And then—Layton’s shoulders dropped. The grin faded. His fingers tightened around the sword.

Jared felt the air shift. The hairs on his neck stood.

Layton vanished.

One second, he was standing still. The next—the world exploded.

A shockwave ripped through the battlefield, dust and debris spiraling outward. The first rank of raiders never even got the chance to react.

Layton’s sword cut through the orcs in a single, devastating arc—Fifteen bodies collapsed, bisected.

Jared froze. Breath catching. What the hell was he watching? Layton was a blur swiping cleaving, moving through the orcs like a storm.

The battle should’ve started—instead, it was already over. Layton and Mischief carved through the horde like reapers.

A flurry of motion. A dance of slaughter. Layton moved too fast. Each swing precision and brutality.

The orcs never even had a chance. One of the ranged raiders fired an arrow—a perfect shot.

Jared flinched. Layton wasn’t even looking—It didn’t hit. Didn’t deflect. It just stopped.

He gripped the edge of his tower. This isn’t possible.

His own people fought tooth and nail for survival. Even Matt had struggled.

Matt.

Matt, who they’d believed was their best hope.

Matt, who they’d thought no one could replace.

But this wasn’t hope. This was certainty. Layton wasn’t a healer. He wasn’t just strong.

He was something else entirely. He was a damn monster.

Jared’s hands trembled as he watched Layton rip through the final orc, standing untouched amid the carnage. The unassuming boy was gone.

It was in this moment, where the world stood still, he knew. Jared was staring at a giant.