As predicted, Bessie was delighted. My oldest friend in the city of Wilton, again meaning little more than a year, was a talented spellsword with boundless enthusiasm to match her bouncy brunette curls, sparkling blue eyes, and good-natured grin. "We would love to go into a dark, dangerous, possibly anomalous dungeon with you! Isn't that right, fellows?"

I looked to her team, half-hoping for a more sensible reaction. However, none of them even felt concerned. "The new dungeon?" Tom said. He shrugged, muscles rippling on his massive frame, all the fat seemingly trimmed away from when I'd first seen him. "We were planning to pay a visit anyway."

"Of course we'll help, Rena!" Hannah said, smiling, her girl-next-door appearance in her demure forging dress at odds with her brawny arms from hammering arrowheads. "Don't worry, we may have been a motley team just a few months ago, but we've really come together since."

Even reliably sharp-tongued, self-preserving Blake said, "We can outrun rats."

Maybe because I was accompanying them for the first time on one of their adventures, but I suddenly remembered each of them as they once were. Tom Stonewall appeared to have shed an unhealthy dose of world-weary cynicism along with his paunch. Hannah Smith was practically unrecognizable from the sullen, scowling woman Bessie had introduced as a dual archer-blacksmith.

But the biggest change was Blake. When I had first met him, he wasn't someone I would carelessly cross on the street, skulking in his frayed, too-big cloak with one skeletally thin hand conspicuously fingering something metallic inside, and always tensed like he was preparing to leap any moment. Now he carried a deceptively relaxed air, his movements smooth as he flowed through shadows in a nondescript rogue cloak and openly twirled his knives between dexterous fingers, which didn't even warrant a glance from anybody familiar with adventurers. He was still somewhat thin, but no longer unhealthily so, like a ragged alley cat turned sleek miniature panther.

I was impressed. The difference in the team between then and now was like night and day, well, except for Bessie Bridgett, who was pretty much exactly the same and clearly had been a good influence. I had the passing thought that maybe she could be that for me if I'd let her, just as she said, "Can we? Rats are rather fast."

Tom said, "Think he means one of us gets the VIP out while the rest stall."

"Oh, is this a VIP mission?" Hannah said, perking up. "I've heard of those!" Pause. "Usually with a whole lot of griping and whining."

Before they could derail into their usual banter, I interrupted, "Shouldn't you be more concerned about my lack of self-defense Skills?"

"Absolutely," Bessie agreed amicably, "Does this mean you're finally willing to invest the time into them?"

I winced at the thought of all those wasted, repetitive hours for what could be months before admitting, "No, but I'm surprised you're all right with that."

"The situation's not great, but I'm more worried if we give you extra time to prepare you'll chicken out. No offense. So first thing tomorrow it is!"

I had to remind myself that just because everybody close to me thought it was a fantastic idea to risk my life, and the sooner the better, it didn’t mean they cared any less or conspired to be rid of me.

The next morning, I was back at the dungeon. I'd thought long and hard before, with great reluctance and regret, leaving my book behind; I just didn't think the dungeon was a safe place for it. Since I'd arrived earlier than agreed, I was surprised to find I was not the first to arrive. Bessie was preoccupied with a knightly looking fellow in shining armor from the neck down, revealing golden hair and, as I drew nearer, strikingly handsome features, possibly in his early to mid-twenties. Even I, not the most socially inclined on the best of days, could tell from her body language she was flirting, even before I felt Bessie's admiration and good-humored wistfulness. Interestingly enough, he felt muddled, which sometimes happened from a Skill interaction, more often with the much more powerful.

"Ah, Rena! This is Derrick Berger, Gold-Ranker and Captain in Grimmark's armed forces. Derrick, may I introduce my dear friend Rowena Loress."

He smiled at me, so dazzlingly I had to wonder if a Skill was involved. "You didn't mention you had a new teammate."

Bessie laughed girlishly. "Oh, you. He's just joking, he knows exactly who you are." I gave her an odd look for how she said it, and she clarified, "I had to clear our little adventure beforehand. Promise we're all loyal citizens of Grimmark in good standing, who have absolutely no criminal designs on this poor little dungeon."

"It's already been declared a national asset," Derrick explained. "We're not really supposed to let anybody through without a load of paperwork, not even adventurers and Scholars, but I know Bessie has a good head on her shoulders and she's mentioned you before."

"Nice to meet you," I said, slanting her a glance. "And uh, she has?"

The sudden pressure made me think a monster had just burst from the dungeon, flooding the area with its intense mana. I stumbled and shrunk back instinctively, even when I realized the weight came from him. Just as abruptly the terrible power disappeared, and I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Yes, you're exactly as described. I do hope your little adventure will do you good."

Shaken, I couldn't look directly at him, and despite his charming looks, I knew I'd forever see him as a dangerous beast. He had given me a deliberate glimpse of his innermost self, but with my high mana sensitivity and refined perception, I had probably seen more than he had meant to show me. Blood soaked his aura down to the soul. With that level of saturation, he must have in a relatively recent and short period slaughtered hundreds, maybe thousands, and some significant proportion were other sapients. That he'd probably done so under orders from king and country didn't dilute the thickness of the ocean of blood he'd shed.

Bessie, I noticed, had balled her hands into fists but stood her ground. "You didn't have to do that," she said, giving me an apologetic look, and then mercifully the rest of the team arrived.

We'd barely entered the dungeon and made some distance before I took advantage of its sound-muffling properties to hiss, "You've been talking about me?" To that monster in human flesh?

"All good things!" Bessie said, as the rest of the team uncharacteristically gave us space. "Well, also that you're a little timid, no offense. But mostly about how you're super talented with magic!"

"Again, I am not joining your team."

"Not with that attitude you're not. Look, I needed a reason for bringing you without revealing the possible anomaly, and you know you always have to assume they're using truth stones or Skills, so I said you're a chronic conflict avoider hiding in your book-cave and I'm trying to build your confidence to possibly recruit you for our team, which is a truth." As I digested this wordy revelation, she added brightly, "You couldn't have sold my story more convincingly if we'd planned it!"

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I couldn't help protesting, "You shouldn't talk about avoiding conflict like it's wrong, abnormal, or illogical."

"Not the illogic," Tom quipped, apparently sensing the tension had eased.

That was when I discovered they'd been successfully distracting me from a well-deserved case of nerves, as I was quickly reminded of said nerves by an attack of hog-sized rodents. It was not my finest hour. I froze in shock, staring dumbly as Bessie threw a [Fireball] into their midst and began hacking the nearest one with her sword, and Hannah fired arrow after arrow, and then as though I'd suddenly snapped back into my body I belatedly began to scream.

Thankfully Tom slapped a hand over my mouth before I could call every monster on the floor to us. He stayed next to me, shield in one hand, and only had to use the mace in the other once, unless dropping it to muffle me counted. I didn't see Blake until the end, when he picked his way back from some far-flung bodies.

"Anyway, I know Derrick can be scary," Bessie cheerily continued our conversation as though nothing had happened, "But doesn't that in a way make him even more attractive? I swear he gets dreamier every time I see him!"

"No good," Tom said. "Only way to distract Rena is with Scholar stuff."

"Maybe I was just distracting myself." She sniffed. "With thoughts of Derrick's awesomeness. I want to grow up to be like him..."

"That's disturbing when you also want to date him."

"I don't get it," I interjected. "You know other Gold-Rankers, what's so special about him?" Other than his mass-murdering proclivities.

"Ah, how little you know, young Scholar," Bessie said in a lofty voice. "Listen and learn. Though officially all Silver-Rankers for example share the same rank, unofficially most of us are solid Silver. Low Silver typically means someone with Bronze abilities pulled up by a competent team, or someone who just made the cut and is still finding their footing, whereas high refers to someone like Derrick on the cusp of the next tier. Not only that, he doesn't have a team. He's high Gold on his own, just a lucky breakthrough from Platinum, and at his age!"

I shuddered, remembering his killing aura...

"Also, there’s his looks," Hannah said dryly.

...but I was mostly fascinated and successfully distracted by these unwritten subclassifications. I'd never even seen a mention of them in any book!

"Are you suggesting if he looked like a troll I wouldn't be drooling over him?" Bessie said in an offended tone. "Do you think our one-sided infatuation so shallow?"

"What about your team?" I asked. "Do you have unofficial ranks?"

They exchanged glances, before Blake huffed. "We aren't supposed to measure ourselves."

"It's fine," Hannah said, "We know where we stand. I'm low Silver myself, despite your guidance, Rena, but everyone else is solid." Right... I resolutely did not look at Blake.

"False," Bessie said. "You may not have the usual range of archery Skills or any Intermediate ones yet, but you can still land a [Piercing Shot] with your personally crafted and reinforced arrows at the right place and time. Remember the hippogriff?"

"Or the giant ooze," Blake said.

"My favorite was the mutant alligator," Tom said.

"I have my moments," Hannah agreed, her expression and emotions suggesting she'd expected her team to rise to her defense but was still a little touched.

"Every member of our team plays a critical role," Bessie said. "Now if only we had a damage-dealing caster to round us out..."

I groaned while the others laughed. Then I had to clap my hands over my own mouth when I nearly shrieked a second time, as the monsters finally noticed us, again. This time Tom had to take a more active role guarding me while I helped by keeping up my [Mana Shield]. Thankfully, a good number of would-be attackers were distracted by Bessie casting different low-tiered spells left, right, and center. I couldn't help pride from swelling in my chest as I watched her, remembering how she'd barely known any a year ago. And though the hard work was all hers, I'd guided her through the early stages of learning each new Skill.

Of course, she still had no idea how any of her spells really worked, beyond the use of them, but nobody was perfect.

When we saw the Core at last, the whole group, including me, cheered. Once more I could feel the dungeon stir awake, but this time I sensed much more of the process and more clearly. Unlike when humans awoke, either all at once or with drowsy gradations, the dungeon seemed to become alert in segmented stages, spreading from the area around the Core to each room in succession to the entrance, and then, when its awareness was total in its territory, snapping its attention back to us.

Oh, it did not like us, and it definitely wasn't a normal Starting Core. , , , , , ... wait.

With a shock of my own, I realized the dungeon could recognize me. It remembered my last visit and not fondly. That shouldn't even be possible for a Developing Core! Did that prove it was at least Mature, or could it maybe still be anomalous? From its wounded hostility, it blamed me for its bindings and was still hurting.

It was empathetic instinct that made me reach out for it -- "Rena!" Bessie cried -- not just physically but mentally, and again something reached back. Unlike last time, I didn't feel like I was caught up in the overwhelming flow, swimming against the current before suddenly breaking through. Instead, I felt like a puzzle piece might when clicking into place. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. I took these once-foreign feelings because I already knew them, and I shared that knowledge in turn.

And [Universal Translation] became [Intermediate Universal Translation].

I stumbled, more astonished by the notification than by my strange new connection, as illogical as that was. Or maybe not. I knew I had a gap in my knowledge of dungeons, but I had thought I was something of an expert on existing Skills, and most especially of this one. I had been sure until this moment [Universal Translation] was a single-tier Skill. Surely I couldn't be the first person in history to unlock the upgrade! Unless, could this be more restricted information?

"Rowena Loress!"

I came back to myself when someone shook me, blinking around to find I was in nearly the exact same situation as a day ago, even with Hannah as the archer supporting me. Though since these were my friends, there was a lot more alarm and concern. Reminding myself they were in fact my friends, and not Gold-Rankers I'd just met, I told them. Well, actually, I may have babbled a little: "It's hard to describe what I sense from it? Maybe like an empathic or telepathic connection. I have to talk to my mentor, I had no idea [Intermediate Universal Translation] was even a Skill!"

After a beat of stunned silence, the reactions came pouring in. "Congratulations!" Bessie declared.

"Is that safe?" Hannah inquired. "Can the dungeon influence you through your connection?"

"Does that mean you're communing with the dungeon right now?" Blake wanted to know, uncharacteristically keen.

"But... I thought you already could translate everything," Tom said. "Isn't that what 'Universal' means?"

This gave everyone pause, truth be told including me. Bessie answered first, "Guess now she can talk to monsters better."

"That's good, I guess?"

"What is it saying?" Blake demanded.

In fact, the dungeon's initial mirroring interest had quickly tapered off into irritation, exhaustion, and one clearly projected desire. "It wants to sleep," I admitted.

After another pause, there were nods all around. "Makes sense," Tom summarized the general feeling, and then by some unspoken agreement we started heading back. I sent our intention to leave, along with apologies for disturbing, but received no response.

"Hey, do you think all dungeons attack us because they're just trying to sleep?" Bessie said.

"And eat, right," Tom said.

"Can you imagine, it must be so annoying with everybody and their familiar traipsing through them all the time. Maybe they want to tell us they're just not morning dungeon-people."

"But we are quite tasty."

Behind us, the dungeon was already asleep again. I thought I could sense it from farther away than before.

"What are you thinking?" Hannah asked me.

"I wonder if the Intermediate Skill means I can talk to all dungeons now," I said, "Or if this one is special somehow. Coming here didn't really answer my original question, though it's certainly raised more."

I suddenly worried they'd think I was ungrateful or complaining, which I wasn't; I was one happy Scholar. But Bessie said, "Then isn't it obvious what we'll do next?"

"No, what?" I asked, frowning.

"Test if your Skill works the same. What was it again you said, empire-something..."

I just stared at her, feeling suddenly less happy. "Test empirically," Hannah said knowledgeably.

"That's it!"

Tom contributed helpfully, "And how will we do that?"

Clapping her hands together, Bessie exclaimed with as much delight as when this started, "Why, by making the acquaintance of more than one dungeon, of course!"