Peeking over Flint's shoulder, Morgana saw only two items. A canvas pouch and a mask. Reaching in, Flint pulled out the pouch first. He shook it, and metal jingled inside.

"Coins, probably," he said.

Sorting through the pouch, he identified fourteen copper and two silver—by far the biggest individual payout they'd had, when it came to raw coinage. Of course, that was only to be expected. It had been a boss. However trivial Morgana had made the fight look.

The more intriguing item followed: the mask.

***

Visage of the Owl. A level 1 mediocre piece of primary equipment. An intricate mask carved from oak wood, fashioned in the likeness of a wise old owl. Provides +4 to WISDOM and +2 to INTELLECT.

***

Vesper whistled in appreciation.

"Mediocre?" Morgana asked. "I thought a boss fight would drop something good?"

"Mediocre is higher than basic," Vesper said. "So it is pretty good. The best we've gotten. The top-tier item qualities don't show up this early in the dungeon. Besides, all equippable items are good."

"Give wisdom and intellect," Flint said. "And there's not a pointless extra effect like with the healing gloves. Morgana should probably equip them."

"I should?"

He shrugged. "Still don't think you're the one that needs to get stronger, but at the same time, it's a drop meant for you. Wisdom especially, since it gives faster mana regen."

"Oh?" Stats were one of those things she'd heard mentioned a number of times and had a general idea of, but she'd yet to discuss them in depth. Maybe it was time for that to happen. "What do each of the stats do, anyway? And how many are there?"

Flint paused, probably surprised she didn't already know. "There's the six big ones. Strength, agility, constitution, intelligence, wisdom, and resilience. They do what you'd think by the name." He paused. "Well, the magic stats are a little different. Strength, agility, and constitution are obvious, but intelligence gives spell strength, wisdom gives spell agility, and resilience gives spell constitution. They're not exact mirrors—wisdom gives mana regen, and agility doesn't give physical regen—but they're fairly close. Good way to remember it, generally speaking."

"I see." She considered his answer, then asked, "Why is it called intelligence and not spell power, then? Or something of the sort? Why intelligence?"

Flint cocked his head. "It…just is?"

"Hm. There are other stats too, right?"

"A number of them. But they're rarer. Usually they represent some specific portion of one of the primary stats, like speed. Speed is bundled into agility, but you can also get an item that gives just speed—and not the improved reactions and such that would come with agility."

"Interesting."

"There's also luck," Vesper said. "That's another cool one."

"Luck?

"Affects drop rates and other stuff. Or…that's what people think. It's one of the weirder stats."

"Huh. And there's no way to see your stats, right?"

"No." After a second, he amended. "Not that I know of." He handed the owl mask to Morgana. "The mana regen is the important part," he said. "Don't think you need extra firepower, but the passive boost in your mana pool over a long delve means more encounters we can work through."

"For a generous definition of 'we'," Vesper said wryly.

“I see," Morgana said. She examined the wooden piece of equipment. The carving was intricate and well done—an excellent piece of artwork shaped in the guise of an owl. Lightweight too; it wouldn't be too bothersome to wear. A flexible black strap was on the back to help secure it. "You know, I've been thinking about how this entire System must be designed."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Sorry?"

"You have no reason to believe me, I suppose, but I assure you this is all a magical construct. The creation of some supreme magic user, not natural phenomena. If you accept that, then it begs the question: how? Through what spell designs was this 'class system' created, and just as interestingly, 'stats?' What kinds of formulae would be needed to emulate a tiny boost in strength? Or agility? Or similar? A strength-boosting spell itself isn't so strange, but when viewed holistically, all stats and skills combining in on each other, it's much more complicated. I can only assume each of us have some extremely complicated set of formulae engraved near us at all times, governing this behavior. I wonder if he's stored these codices through some manner of spatial storage linked to us? Ah, the possibilities are just endless when speaking about someone so skilled, with such incredible means. I do wonder, though, if…"

She trailed off, seeing Vesper and Flint staring at her.

Morgana cleared her throat. "Anyway," she said. "Yes, I'll equip this mask." She tugged the wooden visage of the owl over her face. The eye slits narrowed her vision, but only slightly—not a major inconvenience.

***

Would you like to bind [Visage of the Owl]?

***

"It's asking me to bind it," Morgana said. "I should, yes?"

"Yep," Vesper said.

She mentally acquiesced. A strange tickling sensation went through her, subtle but very much present. Had that been the bonuses of wisdom and intelligence applying themselves? She wondered again why those were the names—they didn't actually make her smarter or wiser. Just affected her casting abilities, somehow.

"There we go," Morgana said, letting her hands fall from the mask's edge. It rested on her face somewhat comfortably—if perhaps not the most pleasant thing to wear. Armor rarely was, however strange this so-called armor was in nature. "How do I look?"

"Properly mysterious," Vesper said, smirking at her. "Just need to get you a wizard's hat and some flowing robes, and you'll be the perfect image of a mage."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "That was everything from the chest, right?"

"Yes," Flint answered, though he peeked into the container to make sure. "Only one piece of gear might be less than usual, I wouldn't know, but the copper ore is probably going to sell for a lot. The shell will make something good too. I'd call it a success."

"More than a success," Vesper snorted. "Took us all of a minute to earn several silver worth of profits. That's insane."

Flint grunted in acknowledgment.

"Now the real question," Vesper said. "Do we head down to the next floor?"

"Oh?" Morgana asked. "Wait, I do remember you saying boss chambers usually have pathways leading deeper. Did we see one?"

"Not yet," Vesper said. "But we haven't finished looking. Stopped when we saw the chest. Even if there isn't one, though, soon as you beat a boss, the dungeon will start spawning stairs down to deeper floors. So that option's available to us now."

Both of their attentions turned naturally toward Flint, who had consistently been the most reserved of them—though that wasn't to say Morgana had ever necessarily disagreed with his cautious nature.

Except, in a continuing trend, it seemed their success so far was making his resolve waver. Flint glanced at the pouch of silver and copper in his hand, as if the coins themselves were trying to convince him.

"We aren't invulnerable," he said slowly. "The traps will be worse. We're weak against swarms, because Morgana only has single-target spells—and we can only defend her so well. More than that, all of our firepower lies in someone even less trained than us. She doesn't know how to fight in the slightest."

Vesper bristled at that, but Morgana spoke up before she could reply.

"No, he's right," Morgana said, waving a hand to dismiss the insult Vesper had taken Flint's words as. While the boy was sometimes overly blunt, perhaps not the most affable of people, he was a rational thinker and a cool head—something Morgana appreciated greatly, as an academic. Especially down in a place where their lives were on the line. "I don't know how to fight. I've said repeatedly I'm not trained in warmagic." Nor did she take any pride or shame in being a good fighter. "More importantly, I've never been in a combat scenario until yesterday. I don't trust how effectively I could act in an unstable situation."

"Exactly," Flint said. "An unstable situation. That's what I mean. Normal encounters are fine because she can kill them in a few hits, if not a single. But as soon as shit goes wrong, an ambush or whatever else, it'll go really wrong. We've only been down here two days. We're not adventurers, however easily we're clearing this dungeon. And what's a second-floor swarming encounter gonna be like? Because one will show up."

"Probably not fun. But it wouldn't kill us," Vesper said. "And swarm types are rare. It's worth the extra experience and loot, in my opinion. Probably leave with some bruises and cuts, but it's the dungeon; that's what we're here for. Besides, it's just the second floor. That's not deep enough for things to get really dicey."

"Maybe not," Flint said. "But still."

"I get you want to play it safe, but I don't want to play it that safe. We'll be fine."

The two siblings frowned at each other. Morgana didn't interject; she honestly didn't know who was right. She knew too little about this world…and both had good points. Like Vesper, she also wanted faster experience and better loot—she had goals to work toward. But neither did she want to lose an arm…or her head. Dying was a possibility, enormous firepower or not. In her current state, she was a total glass cannon. Their party in general was.

"I'll accept heading to the second floor," Flint finally said. "But absolutely no bosses. And if things get sketchy, we leave."

"Deal," Vesper said. She glanced at Morgana. "You good with that?"

Morgana pursed her lips.

"I suppose," she said.