Clyse's cohort killed ten corsair crews and moved on to the next zone. It stood to reason they would have to kill fifteen waves, but twenty also stood to reason. Or fifty.

“This is a lot of Pirates! Also, did anyone notice that promontory is in the same place? We did move forward, right?”

“That's the third headland, Burmin. I counted.”

“'Counter Reginald gains 15% to something in addition to whatever.'”

“That sounds more suitable for Bel Felicitous Fasde, doesn't it?” Clyse asked.

Burmin analyzed the game's roster. “Bel's an accountant, Reginald inspects cargo, Wilma Greenhill is a wealthy family's steward, Zimley Boe's a math student. What's with all these numerical jobs?”

“Don't forget Beans Istemus, mob accountant. Not to mention our very own ledger-hawk Champion here.”

“What does it all mean?”

Ulrik considered the matter. “It means games are made by nerds. I figured it out. I now have a new, better question. Grinding the early waves for hours was a waste. We can all see that now. What I want to know is, why did we ever listen to Hyune Giling in the first place?”

“He pushed his glasses up, so that means he's smart, right? Lightning Sweep!”

“I begin to wonder! Flames of Dovesk!”

Fifteen waves? No. Twenty waves that by the end included four groups of six Pirates each per wave? Certainly. The arduous battle never endangered the officers' bodies, supported as they were by Vampirism and Vinnette Melban's stacking Regens, but it murdered their patience and raised a mound over it as a warning to others.

“Look! Gulfgulls!” Reginald first noticed the foes that vindicated his earlier bold claims about enemy variety. Four unconventionally named seagulls glided in and began their approach.

“Could you give us some information about how they attOH!” One of the Gulfgulls dived, smacked right into Clyse, and exploded. It climbed fast, leaving a small gap in her HP bar and a damage over time effect as a memento.

“OK, so wait, is Burn the one that does more or less damage over time? Or the same?” Burmin asked. “I've looked this up five or six times by now.”

“Determine that empirically by watching Clyse's lifebar while I eliminate these Inferno birds.” Reginald vindicated his bold claims to the detriment of the new enemies while Vinnette Melban patched up their tank.

“Checkup! Clyse . . . don't taunt . . .”

“I suppose you're right. Ah, I want to be an Eclipse so much! That gives Debuff Immunity 30%? Very handy, Vinnette.”

“Thank you . . .”

“Cleanse, Debuff Immunity, ST Regen, Party Regen, increases the Attack of allies under Regen, and gives herself Regen when she applies Regen for more Regen. An SR Skill Star tied to an R just to reach four officers per element. Is this what they call tragedy?” Ulrik's voice shook and he shed a single tear.

“I don't mind . . . if . . . as long as my numbers can get bigger . . .” All four other Rares wept for their honest and unpresuming Medic.

None of that grief influenced them in such a way as to slow their killing of Gulfgulls and, later, Gulfgulls with Pirates. Wave after wave, Gulfgulls drifted over and died without telling their cousins they should bring better gear to drop. Even Rare standards no longer permitted them to acknowledge the existence of the white Scavenger set. At least the Pirates might drop better Pirate pieces and materials for Exceed Refine. It took a lot of Mended Cloth to improve a sword, as the saying went.

All battles end, even bird battles, and Clyse's entourage overcame thirty beefy waves to reach Deinzlo on the Gulf proper. “This town looks a lot like the other one. Except for that promontory in the background,” Burmin Trivvis said.

“We still haven't escaped Brenlond after all that traveling. Of course it has the same cobbled street and stone buildings with arched doors. The same stall between buildings for the selling of unspecified wares. That dog. It stands to reason. Now let's get out of here because this place bores me so much I have to Inferno Strike!”

“You would have done that anyway, but I agree with you.” Burmin set himself to reaping as well. The officers, Pirates, and Gulfgulls carefully contained their activities to the single street so that the conflict would not inconvenience the townsfolk, of whom none were in evidence. Unless the dog counted, and why should it not? Because pets did not generally pay taxes and duties, Reginald explained.

Some local destruction might have made the battle more dramatic, but as it was, the Rares vaporized bands of enemies with their level 25 greens and their low-20s selves without feeling the exhilarating sting of danger. Dozens of bands. Dozens and dozens. So many dozens.

Despite that quantity which somehow never attained a quality of its own, the Rares broke through to the port area. A pier extended over the gulf, and in the background were warehouses waiting for the ships to come in. “Reginald. Don't wander over to those warehouses. I know they beckon, but resist the temptation.”

“Thanks, Ulrik. I think I can resist the temptation now.”

“There may be uninspected goods in there, but stay strong.”

“I'm staying strong, Ulrik. On another note, the Story battle here was something to see. The hero and his group made it to the docks, but then a bunch of pirates rode a whale up onto the beach. They killed the pirates in front of and riding on the whale, but next is the surprising part. When those all perished, the whale woke up, so then they fought that, too. It didn't have HP though. Each hit pushed it back toward the water some distance that depended on its Flinch value. Repatriating the whale to the gulf finished the chapter.”

Burmin threw a Pirate at the water and watched him skip. “Only two? Aw. What do we get to fight, then?”

“Just a regular whale.” The gulf waters ran up the coast and drenched the fighters in water and salt before withdrawing when they had deposited their load as efficiently as a Rare who wanted to be somewhere else, doing anything besides carrying a table or piano for a UR. A light gray sperm whale with big cartoon eyes and a pirate hat remained on the pier to menace the Deinzlo port facilities.

“Why is it Storm? Oh well.” The halberd of Burmin Trivvis took away chunks of the Pirate Whale's admirable health bar, and Ulrik's scimitar did the same. Clyse had a great time, too.

“I'm displeased with this boss fight,” Reginald announced.

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“It would be absurd for me to consider you anything abut a comrade after all our struggles together. I may even say that your displeasure is my displeasure. So I thought of a way for you to contribute. In you go!” Ulrik seized Reginald by his baggy shirt and pants and tossed him into the whale's mouth. “Try to find its heart and punch it! I believe in your courage and resourcefulness!”

“Hey, this thing's almost dead.” Burmin, a sheltered Rare inexperienced in the ways of the world, took off the last pixels of the boss's bar. “Hey, this thing's still alive! What's going on?”

With its first health bar depleted, the Pirate Whale began the fight. Its eyes closed, its head lifted a bit, and its ship-swallowing mouth spit out a chain of tornadoes. “Don't wait for me!” Reginald shouted from inside one of them as it took him away.

They did not. “What's our strategy?” Clyse asked.

“One! Don't stand in front of it. Two! Throw us on top of it. You. Right now.”

“But Ulrik, why me?”

“As a Quake, as a Champion, you have the responsibility! And that attack barely hurt you. You're at 95% HP right now.”

“Good enough not to argue with. Grab hold of one another, you three.” Clyse examined the trio of obedient huggers, observed Burmin was the tallest, and yanked him up by the ankles. “Having all this Attack really opens up your options, doesn't it?” She started her spin slowly, then picked it up as Vinnette and Ulrik left the ground, and let loose when the time was right.

“Hold on tight, Princess Melban! Let go any time, Burmin! I swear I want what's best for you!”

The three underequipped paratroopers landed on the whale, bounced off the moist, rubbery skin a couple times, and went to work. Striking downward was not their accustomed technique, and perhaps they ought to have invited Ebulan Prav to give a seminar on the subject, but even the clumsiest blows bit into the whale's HP. They depleted the second bar easily enough, which prompted the boss to attempt its second fiendish maneuver: rolling over.

The sand accepted the four Rares and gave them rest from their worries. Whale worries. Ulrik got up first with Inferno urgency and flipped the others out with his scimitar.

“Pizza Chef Ulrik. They can add my Class Evolution to the first non-Valentine's cooking event. What are you doing there, Clyse?”

“I was climbing up the side of it when, ah, the incident occurred, and now I'm feeling like a diet is uncalled for. What now?”

“Hit it . . . when it attacks . . . dive in our holes . . .”

“Good plan, doing it now. Inferno Strike!”

They assailed the whale's face till they perceived the same motions that preceded the tornado attack, and then took up prone positions in their own imprints as Vinnette had suggested.

“I succeeded in making my way back. You haven't killed it yet? Why are you playing in the sand? Oh noooooooo!”

“Reginald left again? I didn't take him for that much of a slacker,” Burmin said when he emerged from his custom Burmin-hole and reasserted his offensive presence.

Ulrik shook his head and resumed slicing. “I told him to stay away from those warehouses. The appeal of inspection is too strong.”

“I guess it's OK as long as he's doing what he loves! Sign of Loyalty!” A bolt of golden lightning struck Burmin Trivvis and infused him with terrible might. The great shining figure swung his effulgent halberd and finished off the next health bar. “How many of these things does it have? Starting to feel like an Automatic Adventures boss here.”

Whatever the answer turned out to be, the number of big attacks the boss had in its repertoire capped out at two. Emptying the third bar did not reveal a third secret move, but did encourage the boss to use its lesser attack more often, which consisted of kind of bumping into an officer a little bit. Visually it lacked impact, but the victims nevertheless needed Vinnette Melban to do something about it.

Reginald returned during the age of the fourth bar, and helpful comrades greeted him by seizing him and grinding him ever deeper into the yielding sand. “What did I do wrong? Cut it out!”

“This is a flawless defensive technique. Do you want to be a Strategist or not? A Medic figured this out!” When Reginald's sand angel had been completed, Ulrik demonstrated the procedure of diving into the impression.

“Aha! Now I understand. In point of fact, since I'm a Warper, I'll stay in here forever.” Reginald was as good as his disgraceful word, lying in the sand on his back and firing off water-themed psychic blasts at the big boy above.

Every bit helped, even cowardly bits from cowards, and the Rares whittled down the fourth bar, then the fifth, and then . . . how many bars did it have? Eight. Eight health bars. “I thought people said Part 1 was easy,” Burmin said as they watched the Pirate Whale's eyes turn into Xs before its entire body dissolved.

“Wasn't it? We never came close to dying, thanks to Vinnette. It just took some time.” Clyse shrugged and holstered her shears.

“It didn't take as long in Story Mode. Maybe that's what people meant. Or it might be harder in Vigilant Patrol. I think you're the first ones to do it there. Congratulations, guys.”

The Rares whirled and lost their monocles if they had any, and even Reginald sat up from his refuge, so startling was that voice.

“Cadmos! What are you doing here? Nobody likes you.”

“Hi, Ulrik. I like to practice my lines out here. It's quiet, and the breeze is nice. So again, congratulations! And on your improved class bonuses too, which is great. I wonder why they make you kill the whale in Suppression and the new mode. It seems cruel.”

“Any player doing those surely wants more action and blood, and it just makes sense to give it to them. Thank you for your congratulations, Cadmos. Where are we off to next?”

“Well, Clyse.” Cadmos swung up from his position on the edge of the pier with his legs dangling over the gulf, and stood where he could point the right way. “You'll first be visiting East Beruvia, the kingdom of Aerywe Beruvo, elder of the twin queens. Their father split up Beruvia between his daughters. The older one was bequeathed the eastern, richer half, while Gaelvry was stuck with the poorer part. She rules it earnestly, and the personal attention she pays to her realm and subjects has made her popular. After that comes Dovesk. The quicker pace of the next couple chapters might be a relief after how long you've spent in Brenlond by now.”

“Especially for how little went on there,” Reginald said. “Then in Chapter 5, the hero learned about the growing tensions between East and West Beruvia, discovered the activities of Alben's agents and how they were intercepting diplomatic messages and attacking travelers, defeated the agents, and got the queens to reconcile. All in one chapter! Plus the twin queens both fell in love with you.”

Cadmos laughed. “That's just in the story, of course.”

“Half-right.”

“What do you mean, Ulrik?”

“I mean I can't stand your boredom aura anymore. To Beruvia, you Rares who love chaos!” The aforementioned Rares followed Ulrik backwards, waving and, in Vinnette Melban's case, curtsying.

“That dog's still there, but this city has a river,” Burmin noted. And what a river it was. The wide blue band of the Beruvia River covered the background from just past the wooden houses and the stall with the decorative dog almost to the horizon where tiny houses could be seen. The tiny stalls and dogs had to be imagined.

“And new enemies. Intimidating Strike!” Ulrik reaped a chariot carrying two soldiers, all of the Quake persuasion to his secret delight. It might have been more secret if his grin were less wide. “I don't mind fighting the law, but it raises an ugly truth: Cadmos left all his crimes out of the story summary.”

“It's because, Routine Inspection! It's because Aerywe Beruvo received a report that the hero was an agent of a foreign power, so she ordered his arrest. She didn't realize her head of intelligence had been secretly replaced by one of Alben's spies.”

“I always thought Aerywe was supposed to be the smart one. Death of Knights!”

“Alben had holograms and that kind of thing. Just look at Freegate. Beruvians could never build something like that.”

“Yes, it's far too ugly. Even the stall has cute little citrine flowers painted on it. Do you think the base will be moved somewhere nicer in Part 3?”

“I dunno, Clyse. The way things are going, I'd say the next stronghold will be some kind of demon fortress with tortured souls flying around and lakes of flaming tar.”

“I'm afraid you're right. Those two look happy, though.”

Ulrik and Reginald did have smiles on their faces and springs in their steps. Whether their condition resulted from Burmin's description or from making it out of Brenlond could not be discerned, at least till they said which it was.

“That concept is unbelievably cooler than Freegate.”

“The tar pools should detonate sometimes. The walls should be spiked!”

The Beruvian Patrols had no chance to survive such jubilant slaughter, even with their Critical Chance reduction debuffs. The masterful charioteers managed to swerve and tip over in a satisfying display when they died, which none would deny was worthy of praise, and the Quake Lions that tumbled out proved their feats to be all the more impressive. What other country's charioteers dared doing their jobs with lions in the back seat while wearing terrible armor?

“Debuff Augment. Maybe we should be glad we spent all that time with the Pirates after all. I don't even have any debuffs.”

Clyse picked up a Beruvian Helm. “You're right, Burmin. These are only good for selling. I'll keep my Pirate greens, thank you very much, and let's hurry through this section.”

“We don't have time to hurry today.” Reginald pointed up at the dimming sky, and the Rares returned to Freegate.