Travelling through the ground had not been the best experience Mongrel had. It was dark, tight, cold and he didn’t have a body that stayed comfortable in such conditions. He thought the earth traversing mage was being biassed with his service as Unnamed was as comfortable as he was above ground.

At least they provided him with a crystal ball that he stuffed into his mouth. It took some conscious effort to breathe from a ball in his mouth instead of through his nose.

They stopped moving and surfaced every six hours for a break.

“Boy, go find us dinner.”

Mongrel had been so used to eating dry rations that he forgot it was normal to hunt for meals. He thought he knew all the nearby forests but he didn’t recognise the one they were in. He didn’t argue and got down onto his two limbs before bursting into the shadows. Using foliage as cover was almost as easy as breathing to him.

Dashing around like a panther and flinging his body from branch to branch like an ape was close to second nature. He found it scary that he adapted to this body better than his healthy body. His spine was far more flexible than it used to be

A cursory glance told him that he was in an abundant forest. There were a lot of wild vegetables so there might not be many weak animals or monsters around. The lack of monster tracks meant that it was more likely to be the territory of a stronger but less numerous species.

He ran from shadow to shadow with every gallop. A passing shadow alerted him. He pushed his feet harder and freed his hand from the ground to grab the knife strapped near his chest with a shoulder belt and sliced forward without slowing down. He sheathed his knife and grabbed the cape that hid his body to bundle the body up as his body lurched forward.

A small bird joined their dinner plate.

His ears pricked up and his next gallop sent him up into the trees. Eyes darting around, he zoomed in on his next prey. A metre tall wolf he had not encountered before.

[Ferric Fur Dane Lvl 230]

‘Huh? Wild wolves at such a high level? Where are we?’ Mongrel snapped out of his hunting stupor. Wolves were pack creatures. To his knowledge, there were no such wolves anywhere near Plainston or the borders. Even the Cities further and around Cielfast didn’t have this species of wolves.

Wild wolves were mostly wiped out. They were a danger if left to propagate. Especially at these levels. They might be left alone if they were around the 100s since they were a source of food and training for Journeymen.

No matter how much he scouted, Mongrel didn’t see another wolf.

‘Perhaps a rare case of wolf species that move in small numbers or alone.’ He made more sense of the situation. If it was such a species then it wasn’t a threat to towns.

‘Is it worth the effort…’ Mongrel pondered no longer and struck out from above.

The canine rotated its head and bit his sword in a hurry.

A heavy double-edged axe dropped from under his cape and slashed out at the canine’s belly. Catching the wolf off guard, the attack landed. The rope connecting the axe to his waist straightened in alert as Mongrel kicked back and created distance.

His ‘tail’ emulated scorpions like those Arrowtails in Ordina. The rope manipulation was an attempt at copying how Dina manipulated her wires. The rope was his most expensive equipment as it was flexible and stretched in response to mana. It wouldn’t have been possible to obtain it if Mark hadn’t introduced him to some potioneers and alchemists.

The attentive man saw him with a lousy rope and suggested making it more adept at movement. Although not to the extent of another limb, Mongrel found his ‘tail’ to be increasingly natural.

At first, it was just a sidearm and also a shield for his back. The rope made it possible for him to sweep using centrifugal force when he did sharp spins. Now, it was practically his strongest weapon and form of attack when his arm and leg were busy.

‘Not even a scratch?’ Mongrel backed off into the shade of a large tree because his ambush skidded off the wolf's fur. He didn’t hold back and already used Silent Frenzy for a power and speed buff!

His fingers dug into the soil and his body sprang forward with a sword stabbing at the wolf's eye from the side but the wolf had reaction speed that made his ambush look cute. It leaned back and countered with its claws. Mongrel’s tail from overhead smashed the body of the wolf away just in time.

The wolf’s body was light and flung back a few trees away. The lack of blood on his axe bothered him a little. Mongrel’s shaggy hair stood up as he went deeper into frenzy.

Mongrel read the Ferric Fur Dane’s movements like a book. It felt like his own moves. The deeper he fell into ‘frenzy’ the less aware of his surroundings. His eyes were focused on his target and target only.

He hopped on his single foot back after fifteen minutes. His breastplate had three claw marks imprinted on his chest. His leather armour was something he bought off the shelf and wasn’t exactly made to last.

‘I can’t believe I struggled with one wolf below my level.’ Mongrel tied the wolf and hung it on his shoulders and hopped with great balance. He was already covered in blood and cared not for the trail of blood that followed them.

“Welcome back, I’ll get a fire started.” Unnamed clapped his knees and stood up from a log.

“Ha, look at him. You really think he’s going to take this kid in as a disciple?” The earth mage scorned his dirty appearance.

“Oh, you bet. I believe he’s the type the old man had been looking for.”

They pulled out a pot out of their bags that made him envy their riches. He would’ve found a stick and roasted monsters and vegetables over a fire. Sometimes, eating raw meat. Having a bag with expanded space seemed like such a luxury.

They clicked their tongues at the brutal beatings his prey had received.

“AH! You popped its stomach!” The earth mages fussed.

“This is gonna stink…” Unnamed attached a water ore to his bracelet and shot out a stream of water to wash their dinner.

Mongrel handed over the bird he caught. That would make a better meal but it wouldn’t be enough to share amongst three adult men.

He couldn’t exactly cook well after losing one of his arms so he didn’t do much to help other than finding branches to burn.

Having a salted and flavourful soup in the middle of nowhere kinda struck him.

‘How long has it been since I’ve had soup in the wild…’ Without a carriage carrying all his luggage or party members to help him cook, Mongrel hadn’t had proper food in the wilds for a long time. He felt warm.

“Alright time to move.” They cleaned up by spraying water and tossing the wet dishes into their bags.

“We’re not going to camp?” Mongrel questioned.

“Why the ell would we camp here?”

“We don’t got time for that.”

Mongrel continued to be dragged around and chauffeured underground. He learned that these Grandmasters didn’t need to sleep as often and travelled through the night without any hint of exhaustion. The earth mage could move at unknown speeds for an extended duration without rest.

‘Don’t mages have trouble with mental stamina? Is this as easy as running to him?’

They rested every other day but they didn’t trust him enough to take guard. It allowed him to sleep more than either of them.

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In less than ten days, they resurfaced and he saw the imposing walls that stretched on forever in both directions. He could barely spot the top of the walls.

“Where are we?”

“The Capital.”

“This is Tidal…” Mongrel the country bumpkin couldn’t imagine how big the capital was.

He couldn’t see the end of the walls and he felt heavy just standing before the City. He was still an hour's dash away from the City walls!

They walked over to what Unnamed called the seventh west gate. Mongrel didn’t know any other city with so many gates.

He fumbled his clothes for his Quester Crystal as his bracelet broke and he hadn’t gotten a replacement. It was a waste of his mana but he didn’t regenerate much to begin with. After gaining entry to the most prosperous city on the continent, Mongrel had to say it was more than he imagined.

He didn’t think a different city could feel so different. The city walls were so thick they had to walk for some time before they entered the city. The very roads and buildings were different. It was as if the stone road and buildings were exuding pressure on him.

The moment he stepped in, he felt energised. The small cuts and bruises under his shirt from the regular hunts felt as if they got caressed by some warm energy. Rumours weren’t as believable as experiencing it himself. Even his knob of arm and leg felt warm but he hated that.

Thankfully, he didn’t regrow his limbs. He wanted them to stay that way. It was not a reminder.

It was a price he paid.

A lesson.

In any case, they felt better than ever before and it continued to comfort his battered body as they walked through the busy streets.

Mongrel had never seen so many people in one place. With the exception of the soldiers during his fight at Fourth Tide.

Stories that the very floor was made of higher quality stone and rock than the town walls of old Plainston was no exaggeration. Of course, that changed after Plainston turned into a city but even then the road's material was superior.

The hired stone mages were good but those folks had nothing on the architects or stone mages here. Mongrel couldn’t even tell if the stone was natural or a product of a mage’s compression. There was no way the Empire had enough stone mages to conjure enough of this for the whole Capital within just mere decades.

Mongrel’s eye twitched as he reached for his weapon and concentrated on the axe on his back. The market lady selling fruits was higher level than him! Why was her vitality so overwhelming?

The next person that bumped into him made him trip but he bounced on his feet and stayed standing. The bump made him feel the effects of overflowing vitality almost like that of a Troll.

“Ah, apologies kid. Ya alright?” The muscular beastmen were about to scream but the look of pity didn’t escape Mongrel’s eyes.

“Ye-yeah, no problem.”

‘What in the world…’ Fortunately for his state of mind, it was a Grandmaster blacksmith and not some random Master.

He questioned himself as to why a blacksmith would have high vitality but just squashed that thought thinking the Grandmaster just had high stats in general.

“Keep up boy!” Unnamed and his compatriot pushed through the sea of people. He wondered why bother coming to a market but didn’t ask.

They pulled him into a side street and a busy tavern. No one batted an eye at his physical state here. Neither did they care about the dirt and smell all three of them carried.

“A round of sour ale!”

They took a convenient counter seat that opened up after they entered.

“A house blend.” Mongrel learned to ask for a house blend from a certain lizardman. He heard that every tavern in big cities made their brew and it became a habit to try them all.

The bald bartender was a short old man. Mongrel guessed he was a half Dwarf half Human from his frame. Halves were relatively rare but not something new. He was glad he didn’t see a random bartender as a Grandmaster but the old man was still maxed out at 300.

That number wasn’t commonplace in his hometown but from the gate to this tavern he already saw hundreds of people stuck at that level. Every turn of his head allowed him to spot a Grandmaster. Although they were mostly slightly older craftsmen and support classes he was still at the edges of the Capital City.

“Twenty-fourth hour.” The bartender placed their drinks in front of them and muttered. It was so soft he thought he misheard it in the bustling tavern. The old man retreated to prepare other drinks.

“Looks like we have half a day to spare. You’re free to explore. Come back here by the twenty-third hour.” The older man who brought him chugged their ale and slammed their mugs noisily. The entire tavern seemed to do the same as if they were testing the mug and tables.

‘They're using the sound to mask conversation?’ Mongrel figured out the pattern in the loud sounds in the tavern.

“Wait, take this. Spray this on yourself before you come. Stay at least 5 gors away before you spray that on. Go.” The earth mage put something under his coat with earth magic. The man had both hands above the counter but another hand moved to give it to him.

Mongrel hopped out and found a dim alley to hide and get on twos. He leapt away above roofs but something felt off when he did that. He was either followed or watched and he couldn’t tell which.

He leapt a few blocks away before casually joining a busy street again.

‘Haaa. Ma, the big cities are really different.’ After Chris had died, Mongrel didn't meet his old family. To them, he was dead and he kept it that way.

Mongrel asked around for the Quest Hall and was dismayed to find out it was so far away that it might take a few hours by a fast carriage. He had no plans of spending on a carriage so he leapt onto the main road and got to leaping from the shadows of one carriage to the next.

He knew that many people could see him act like a madman but he didn’t care. It was practice. His eyes darted around to trace how many eyes were on him. He treated them as the monsters that preyed on him and got better at stealth.

Mongrel was out of breath by the time he turned and got off the main road. The Runners here were crazy!

He could barely keep up with the speed limits of the road and this speed limit increased on wider roads. The central district apparently had different traffic laws and speed limits were higher.

Entering the open doors of the towering Quest Hall, he was stunned. The Quest Hall was too big. The layout was the same as all Quest Halls but how many help counters are there? Hundreds? Thousands?

‘Can this place fit millions?’

Mongrel read a directory and found the counter for the duelling grounds. The reception counter he needed was on the third floor.

‘Where are the stairs? Oh, I see.’ He looked lost before he saw mages flying up and warriors jumping before leaping over the ledge of the second floor.

There were probably stairs somewhere in the building but it was a waste of time to look. He leapt and dug his fingers into the walls before reaching the third floor. Friction alone was enough, he didn’t damage the walls. A single touch was enough to tell him he couldn’t damage it even if he tried.

Although there were dozens of counters with clerks handling the flood of people he still had to line up for fifteen minutes before he could rent a training room.

“It’s free!?” Mongrel yelled out. He cleared his throat when he saw the poor girl behind the counter shudder from his loud voice “so-sorry.”

The Journeyman Clerk got her calm back and issued him a ticket and even gave directions to the entrance. “The shaft down is right behind the counter on the first floor.

‘Shaft?’ Mongrel wasn’t willing to show off his ignorance anymore and kept silent after thanking her.

He found out that the method to get down to the duelling grounds and training rooms was just to climb or jump down a hole big enough to fit a few houses side by side. He skipped the spiral stairs with no railings and leapt down from ledge to ledge.

‘Oh my goodness…how deep does this go?’ Mongrel couldn’t even see the bottom and the place was well lit.

Another clerk pointed him towards the training rooms and his ticket numbered eight thousand.

He started running down the corridor, passing by the open arenas and duelling grounds.

It took him another ten minutes at full speed just to get to his allocated room. As he prepared himself, the room was more than twice as big as a standard single-person training room that other cities provide.

Mongrel hid in the corner of the room after closing the door and warped himself in his cape.

He fell asleep after setting a mental alarm to wake himself up in an hour.

He woke up slightly more refreshed and stayed under his cape to check what he was given.

It was a glass bottle with a pink fluid within.

‘Perfume? I can’t cast Identify on it…’

Mongrel guessed from the bottle that he could just apply it like perfume that women used. He saw plenty of fluid within and sprayed some on the back of his gloves to give it a whiff.

‘Doesn’t smell like anything…’

Mongrel shook his head and got to training. He latched onto the corners of the walls and went from one shadow to another. His grip was more like an insect than a human as he could hold onto walls and carry his weight with just a three-finger pinch.

Despite being well-lit, the sharp corners of the cuboid room cast shadows for him to utilise.

He vanished from the room as if he had never been in there and made his way out of the labyrinth known as the Quest Hall before using the roofs of buildings again. It was much faster than going through a busy road.

The feeling of being watched under the night sky was still present but Mongrel supposed the sensation was just because he was under the perception range of many mages or rogues.

His eyes darted back to look at the clock situated near the top of the Quest Hall.

He had already come so far, no reason not to meet those sanctioned criminals. He sprayed the perfume all over him and allowed the wind to bathe him in it as he closed in on the tavern.