"So—and correct me if I'm wrong here—you are deliberately going to cut your arm off, and want me to be around to stop you from bleeding to death when it all goes horribly wrong?"

"Well, I'm not going to cut it off. It's a skill. And it's 'if' it goes horribly wrong, not 'when'."

Raymond was sitting with his face resting in his hand, in a sort of resigned depression. He looked very much like I imagined myself looking back when I was trying to explain to Darren why sticking your arm into a fire wasn't a great idea. "The way you describe it makes the wound sound cleaner than any blade. There will be no damage to your arteries at all. They'll all be wide open and spurting, for optimal blood loss."

"Umm..." said Cluma, fidgeting. "This is sounding like less and less of a good idea."

"It's fine. Delvers survive sudden, unplanned limb loss all the time," I pointed out. "This is neither sudden nor unexpected. Besides, I have almost two hundred health and a pile of regeneration boosts."

"Fine. I give up. You can do this any time from tomorrow? I won't be available for a few days, but if you want to do it tomorrow, I'll send Carys to the institute at fifth bell. She finds amusement in the strange conditions you turn up here with, and I'm sure she'd love the opportunity to watch you inflicting a new one on yourself first-hand. She'll be good enough to keep you stable and drag your sorry arse back here to regrow whatever ends up needing regrowing."

Wasn't she just an apprentice mage the last time I'd checked? Then again, I hadn't had my appraisal skills available when I was here last, suffering from a dislocated soul, so it had been years since I'd appraised her. She'd probably ranked up by now. Kari had higher stats and had long since completed her [Life Mage] class, but an extra healer was an extra healer, and Carys was less likely to get distracted by the science than Kari.

"Thanks," I replied. "Hopefully, I won't see you tomorrow."

"As long as that's because you're not in need of my services, rather than because you're unconscious," he replied with a smirk. How little faith he had in me.

"Thanks for looking after him," said Cluma, hugging Raymond goodbye. Apparently, she had no more faith in me than Raymond, if she thought I needed looking after.

"Well, now what?" I asked as we left the hospital, dropping in a small donation as I passed the box as thanks for Carys' time. "Want to do another floor of the dungeon?"

"We could do, or... umm..."

"Hmm? Or what? I'm not playing dress-up again right now, even if I am the unwilling owner of enchanted panties."

"No!" countered Cluma, quickly. "Not that. Didn't you want to look for a home here? Now seems like a good time. We aren't dressed for the dungeon, and it's not worth going home to change just for one boring floor."

"Oh. I'd kind of put that out of mind once we started at the dungeon. Sounds good to me, but do you have any idea how to buy a house?"

"Nope. Haven't a clue."

Back in the village, houses weren't really bought. They were sort of collectively assigned, or built as needed. The town was different. "Nor me. Merchants' guild, perhaps? Buying a house really isn't like buying food or a new set of armour, and needs some preplanning. I suggest we have a chat with your mum beforehand, given that she bought her house here fairly recently."

It had to be the merchants' guild, because I knew every street in Dawnhold now, and there wasn't an estate agent on any of them. That didn't change the fact that I wasn't sure what I was looking for. How much space did we want? Did we want a garden? Budget wasn't an issue; short of Lord Reid's mansion, I'd bet I could buy any property in Dawnhold. That didn't automatically mean buying the biggest place available, though.

"Fine. We'll do the boring dungeon then. But tomorrow, you're talking to my mum with me."

I peered. Why was she suddenly being so enthusiastic and pushy about it? Well, some of my questions could be discussed while traipsing through the dungeon.

Floor seven turned out to be much like floor six in terms of monster composition, with emerald cobras and pythons. They were nothing more than mildly enhanced versions of what we'd already faced.

"Hmm, these cores are starting to smell. Not appetising, but... I dunno. If I was starving, I could probably bite one."

"Give it a few more floors," I commented, tossing the cores we'd just harvested into my [Item Box]

"Mmm."

"Anyway, what sort of house do you want?"

"As many bedrooms as possible, so we can have guests. At least two bathrooms, unless you've got quicker at washing yourself since I last lived with you."

Hah. Straight in there. No 'why are you asking me?' or 'I don't know.' She was already considering it as much her house as mine.

"What about a garden? And practically no houses in Dawnhold have multiple bathrooms." Not that I'd been in many, but [Mana Sight] had given me an idea of the usual layouts, even if I hadn't been actively trying to spy on people.

"Then we'll have to convert a spare bedroom. I don't really care about a garden. I suppose your [Basic Crafting] would let you make use of one, if you wanted."

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I pondered that while disembowelling a python that tried to drop on my head. I'd never done any farming or gardening for my own sake. I'd only ever helped out at the village. To be fair, I doubted I'd make good use of a garden. Besides, I could just pick a patch of wilderness somewhere uninhabited outside the town, set a teleport beacon there, and teleport whenever.

"So, just somewhere for lots of people to stay. Probably needs a big kitchen, then."

"Oh, yeah, definitely," Cluma agreed, casually stabbing a completely oblivious cobra through the head.

"I wonder if the inn's for sale?" I pondered, being half serious. It would certainly meet Cluma's requirements, and few houses in Dawnhold had more than three bedrooms.

Cluma's reply was drowned out by a lightning strike from above.

"Oh, great, another rainstorm," I muttered.

"Come on, we might as well get to the exit. We'll never get to the interesting floors if I procrastinate too much."

We ran on through the rain, getting utterly soaked by the time we reached the portal to the next floor. Or, rather, we were utterly soaked within ten seconds of the rain starting. By the time we got to the portal, it wouldn't have been completely inaccurate to describe us as drowned.

"Ahhh, it's inside my armour! How is my tail wet! My fur isn't this sodden after a bath!" complained Cluma.

"Want to visit the village? You could ask Darren to dry you off."

"No thanks, just get me out of here!"

With a giggle, I sent Cluma back to Dawnhold. I was less lucky, needing to lie down to teleport myself. I sent myself back to the encampment outside the dungeon, on account of being the only outdoor teleport point I had, and not wanting to get mud everywhere. We'd built up a few days' worth of cores to sell, and it was a good idea to check in every now and again to reassure people I hadn't gone missing. Teleporting out of the dungeon each night was not exactly normal.

The next day started off with more adulting than I'd ever had to do before, but at least I ended up learning how the housing market worked. Not only in Dawnhold, but Camus—who still seemed strangely happy with me—chipped in with his experience in the Emerald Nest, having been responsible for arranging their restaurant and his own home.

Actually, never mind Camus, Clana kept giving me smug looks too. Why were they... Oh, right. It was probably a smell thing. Dammit! I needed to get rid of that damn trait. Or perhaps find an accessory enchanted with odour suppression of my own. That way, Cluma wouldn't need to worry about deactivating hers, although she'd no doubt still want to keep it around for the purposes of improving her [Stealth].

Owning my own home wouldn't magically make me more mature, but it would certainly make me feel more of an adult. But actually following through was something for another day. Today's plans involved science, with just a touch of self-mutilation.

"Are you sure you want to watch?" I asked Cluma, who was tagging along behind me, scowling.

"Don't you remember what you told me back in the ark?"

Hmm? I'd just asked her out, hadn't I? Was there anything else?

"Apparently not," she sighed, when faced with my silence. "You told me it would be my job to talk you out of doing anything stupid, but it doesn't work when you don't listen to me! At the least, I need to keep an eye on you."

"This isn't stupid. We've got carefully laid plans, a supervising adult who isn't Kari, and a healer on standby."

"Stupidity doesn't cease to be stupid just because you carefully preplanned it!"

I stopped walking; I owed it to her to at least consider her opinion. It was true that this could go wrong, but any of the known ways it could fail would do no worse than leave me in hospital for a few days. There was still the chance it could go wrong in an unknown way, a fact which me and Cluma both knew first-hand, but there was no way to predict the results of that. So, they were the risks.

What of the rewards? I would, effectively, get a localised physical boost to my arm. It would increase our understanding of the [Superimpose] skill, but unless someone else had taken the class in the past few years, I was the only [Eldritch Mage] on the planet. I couldn't imagine this working well enough to cause other people to take the class. The rewards of this experiment, even if it worked perfectly, were basically just a power boost for me, with the possibility of more later, when we did other limbs or used better materials. Alas, with my current link limit, I'd have to start removing teleport points to go any further.

The only other benefit was the satisfaction of raw curiosity. That was something that could earn me a couple of soul points through [Researcher], but at the point I was at now, two points were a drop in the ocean.

Was the reward of a power boost of unknown size worth the risk? It had been a long time since I'd felt the need to boost my power as rapidly as possible, regardless of risk. Why would I want to do so now?

"Jealousy..." I muttered, coming to a realisation.

"Pardon?"

No, it wasn't necessarily jealousy. Perhaps competitiveness would be a better description. Cluma was strong, and she wasn't even trying to be. It was a simple side effect of her far more peaceful goals. And now I'd given her another massive boost, completely by accident. She was going to overtake me, or perhaps she already had. I could probably hit her with my lightning glove, if we fought seriously and I could get a shot off before she used [Darken Senses]. In a duel with practice weapons, I no longer had any confidence of victory. She could blind my sight and my [Mana Sight], even without her extra enchantments. I would need to rely on [Soul Perception] to even have a hope, but that wouldn't show me her weapons.

I didn't necessarily want to be stronger than her. I didn't need to always be the elder, superior delver. I just didn't want to be left behind or become a burden. I wanted to walk alongside.

I started sniggering, realising how completely our positions had reversed from back when Cluma had gained her [Acrobatic] trait.

"Now what?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned.

I had never got rid of my [Self-Destructive] title, and I had to admit to myself that I never would. But relying on other people, and carefully considering risks and rewards, was worth something, right?

"I do appreciate your input, honestly, and you've poked me into thinking things through far more carefully than I otherwise would have, but I'm still going to try it."

Cluma sighed as we resumed our walk and entered Grover's workshop. "Grover, Carys, Kari, Vargalas." I greeted in turn. There were a couple there I hadn't expected, but no reason to throw them out.

Kari was hanging back, carefully keeping herself angled so her tail wasn't visible to Cluma, her ears hidden under a hat. Vargalas had his trademark frown, but did at least give a polite nod as we walked in.

"Hi again!" said Carys, now wearing the robe of a full-fledged healer, instead of the apprentice robes I'd seen her in last time. She gave a small bob, twisting her robe in a way that [Basic Etiquette] interpreted as a polite greeting. I unthinkingly gave the appropriate response.

Skill [Basic Etiquette] advanced to level 4

She looked surprised briefly before smiling. Sneaking in a quick [Analysis] revealed that she had the skill too. Whatever for? As best as I could tell from the times it had pushed me into doing things, the information it provided was outdated by one entire civilization. No-one without the skill did any of the gestures it had downloaded.

"Right then," said Grover. "Now that everyone's here, let's get started."