“Hello Eleonor, how have you been?” I ask while sending fourteen of my natural weapons darting at her.

Omorth moves to our forefront as per our usual tactics – he’s an able shielder, so letting him take the tank role just makes sense. Meanwhile, Pips begins casting a spell.

My old classmate deftly parries each of my missiles one by one, but not in time to prevent me from Blinking behind her to lash a leg toward one of Markus’ ankles. Which he blocks with a flickering blue barrier, to no one’s surprise.

Turning to face me Eleonor answers, “Oh, you know. Patron gods making people heroes and sending them off to do their bidding, am I right? It happens all the time.”

She flurries her shortsword surprisingly quickly at me, but not quickly enough as I dodge every attack. “Are you sure you should be focusing on me?”

Eleonor furrows her brow without pausing her assault, until she suddenly slows down just before a ball of sludge envelops her up to her ankles from the ground. Pips has spectacular timing.

And then with a hollow howl, Omorth slams into her from behind with the flat of himself, knocking the ilmesori hero face-down on the ground.

As if on cue, a sudden burst of force launches me into the air and across the room, but I agilely reorient myself in flight to catch against the wall with my feet before Blinking toward the…

Where is the rogue?

***

Ah, there it is. The nostalgic feeling of a knife in my back. But before I can even react, the offending party is already strung up, held by wrists and throat from behind with a silver trident at their throat.

“Disqualified. Get the hells out of my dungeon.”

Without another word, the rogue disappears in a flash of light, Rose depositing them outside the entrance.

…

Apparently that was enough to make the actors in my little show all pause in confusion.

“What? They went off script. You fight each other, I watch, possibly applaud. When I’ve seen enough I stop you, and my retainers offer you feedback. Not difficult, is it? Why is it so difficult for some humans?”

The mage glares at me. “What did you do to her?”

“Hm?” I tilt my head. “Sent back to the dungeon entrance, like I said. Disqualification is failure. Be glad that I didn’t send you back with them… her.”

It doesn’t look like that was enough though. They’re all still just looking at each other.

I sigh. “Well whatever I guess. Izzy, Pearl, Omorth, what do you think?”

“Weak,” Omorth rumbles. “Too weak for their levels. No attention to surroundings, no team strategy. These two do work well together, but not well enough. Reactive fighting is party death.”

My wife nods. “I’d say about the same. You’re still not used to this Class, are you Eleonor?”

The hero shakes her head and grins awkwardly.

“You need to use offensive spells if you even have any. You’re a force mage, aren’t you?” Pearl snaps derisively in Markus’ direction.

“Ehm. Yes, I am,” he confirms.

“I knew it. My advice is to pick a more useful Class unless you enjoy getting your ass kicked. Maybe something that actually works well with your hero’s build? Or try begging some god for a special Class, maybe. As much as this idiot sucks like a collapsed star, this Class is strong, stronger than what I’ve seen in the books and definitely stronger than yours.”

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…I’m just going to choose to let that insult go. That said… really, who ever heard of a Skill called ‘Sludge Magic’? It might be unique to her, the Record’s first sludge mage.

“So then. Pass or fail?”

“Fail,” my sword knight immediately answers.

“Yeah, no. Not remotely good enough,” Pearl says while twirling a few tentacles from her sleeves idly.

Izzy… is quiet for a moment before saying, “Sorry Elly. My party did better against stronger retainers when I was only level 400. You have to do better than this.”

I nod. “And that’s that. Although…”

(Although what?) Nyx asks in my head.

“Do you have a plan for getting stronger?”

Markus and Eleonor look at each other for a moment before the latter answers, “Well… not really. I thought I was already plenty strong.”

A chuckle escapes me. “Simply being a hero isn’t enough, nor is having a hero Class. You need to learn how to use the weapons you have. I’ll let you in on another secret… since we’re once-classmates.”

With bravado, I stand from my throne and spread my arms. “You weren’t sent here to kill me, regardless what you think.”

Two confused faces are my reply, but I continue. “No, you’re here to put on a show. The other gods are bored, you see? Good versus evil, hero versus demon lord – it’s high-level entertainment for my peers!”

“So…” the hero half-mumbles, “what exactly are you saying then?”

“What I’m saying is that, while we do need to fight at some point… there’s no need for it to be fatal for either of us as long as it’s entertaining for them. Arguably, we could just find some interesting way to coexist and leave it at that. As long as enough of the other gods are entertained, they’ll just leave us alone and be content watching everything we do.”

“Then, what exactly are you suggesting?” Markus asks, nearly parroting Eleonor’s.

And I smile.

***

“How are you adjusting?” I ask, seeing Eleonor leaving her new quarters within the castle.

“Well Izzy, it’s definitely… a change,” my old friend says, eyeing the gorgon maid demurely following her. “Do they just follow you everywhere?”

I nod. “My wife insists on it for a few reasons, but part of it is simply defense of those she considers guests in her home. She’s very particular about that for some reason, probably part of her other ego, or one of them…”

That gets me a strange look so I quickly reverse the subject. “Sisuca, would you allow her to Identify you?”

The maid curtseys lightly and says through a fanged smile, “It is my pleasure to serve.”

Turning back toward Eleonor, I gesture pointedly. And after her eyes flash a telltale gray, her scales blanch white as she gasps.

“Yeah, I know. Nemesis created them. They’re literally dungeon bosses. It feels strange for someone so much stronger than I am to just, follow me around and wait on me hand and foot. I’m sure you feel the same, don’t you? And that’s not even taking into account that there are nine of them, or that the head maid Nula is even stronger still.”

She nods back, still visibly destabilized.

Which, she probably should be.

Not even a second later, Markus’ door opens as well, which is excellent timing. They’re due for their morning training, with instructors Vivianne, Omorth, and myself presiding.

…I’d had no idea that the centipede knight was an accomplished battle mage as well, although with her multiple sets of mandibles she’s capable of burst incantations that most mortal mages can only fantasize about.

Markus did indeed take note of Pips’ words, harsh as they might have been… but he hasn’t yet found a Class that better appeals to him. His options are all very similar to what he’s had.

Maybe he really should just ask my wife for one, although that would probably make him some level of… what, devout or worshipper or something? I don’t know how it works. Maybe they can just offer him one?

That rogue never did show herself again. I’m not sure if it was due to fear or humiliation, but either way it doesn’t matter. I’d skewer her myself if I ever see her again. NOBODY hurts my wife without retribution.

“Almost time to see them eat dirt again?”

“Good morning, Pips. Were you going to join us again?” I ask the mage gliding silently and goopily across the fine carpet, mysteriously not leaving a snail trail.

“Yep.”

“You don’t have anything else you want to do? You don’t need to just stand around and watch me work.”

…

She’s just silent for a moment…

Until she finally says, “Yes I do.”

What?

“No you don’t. You can do whatever you want,” I say back.

Pips lets out a frustrated sigh. “No, I DO. You don’t understand. I know you don’t understand, and I don’t know how to make you understand. I have to. I have to follow you. I have to be around you. I have to be with you.”

I furrow my brow.

And she offers me a weak smile in return. “You’re everything. EVERYTHING. You’re why I exist. Be happy you still have that choice because I sure don’t. I literally belong to you. You. Are. EVERYTHING.”

“Oh. I… I had no idea.”

“Yeah, oh,” she mutters dejectedly. “I’m not surprised to be honest.”

“Wait,” my hero friend interjects, “I don’t get it. What’s going on?”

“It’s simple, Eleonor,” Markus says. “It’s a compulsion.”

I…

Really need to talk to Nemesis about this.