“I feel as if I accomplished not a single, solitary thing for a week.”

“Sure you needed those first four words?”

“Good question. Do you need those four fingers?”

“Yes, or else I might miss with my crossbow as bad as you just did with your sword.”

“I miss having two full teams,” Burmin said, draining all the pep out of Dennet and Ulrik before they really got going.

“It's the unpredictability that gets me,” Dennet complained. “Who knows what Reginald and Clyse are doing, and Tramda could walk in any second, or not. How can we plan around that?”

“Plan around what? Another zany scheme?” Tramda Olex asked as she entered and navigated the Rare closet's hazards on her tiptoes.

“Planning is fiiiiiiiiiiine, but you can just go when you can go, right? Tramda's here, and that means?”

“It means we have seven people.”

“And seven minus five equals?”

“Not enough people.”

“Enough to grind Pirates while the rest of us go through Chapter 6. Unless you want to sit around all day. I guess some officers are into that.” Against all expectations, the force of Sindze's speech did not strike Leaznalo and cause his chair to turn over, sending him rolling across the room right through a new, Leaznalo-shaped hole in the wall. No demonstration would ever offer clearer proof that the Rares needed more Attack.

The aspirationals made arrangements to send Tramda Olex and Burmin Trivvis to a low-stress coastal environment while Quille Treten, Ulrik, Sindze U. Radalo, Dennet, and Vinnette Melban ventured into the country of Dovesk, land of impatient guys with scimitars and crossbows.

“Hmph. Rain.” Quille tried to tuck his beard behind his tabard to spare it the wetness.

“It'll never not be raining,” Dennet said.

“Oho. Thunder.”

“Same for that. Come on, get going.”

“Is every Doveskan, er, like you two?”

“No. Some of us are maids. Move.”

The rains made seeing anything difficult, but not finding a fight. A step forward and Doveskan Fighters jumped out, Storms with swords and Quakes with crossbows in contradiction of everything the Rares thought they knew about that aggressive and downright rude people. The Doveskans did want to tussle, though. That checked out.

“There have been rumors, and I'm not saying I believe them, that you priceless little sweethearts have been amusing yourselves in battle at the cost of efficiency. We can all agree to treat this outing with the utmost seriousness, right? Of course we can.”

“Toss me another, Dennet. Sorry, Sindze. What is that you were saying about embracing the colorless life?” Ulrik incorporated the fifth scimitar into his juggling showcase while Vinnette clapped and Sindze did not.

He brought his performance to a close by throwing ten scimitars at ten Fighters and bowing, which failed to win Sindze over to his perspective. Nevertheless the killing continued, some of it especially vicious, and Quille's party advanced through Chapter 6 without suffering serious reverses.

“This is kinda dull. At least Reginald could have told us about the story.”

“Ugh, really, Dennet? Who needs that? It's another typical fantasy story, right? You can tell just by looking that something's going on like Dovesk is a poor country that's been unable to resist Perandra Regna's influence even though Perandra Imperia collapsed centuries ago or whatever. So now the Perandran king's been overthrown, and his nephew's here, or his cousin, who cares. And they don't like Alben, but they also resent the royal family, and like, if they could push Dovesk around so much, why are they so weak? There's some anger in that line of thought. That's why Cadmos had to persuade them and stuff, because he's the hero. Isn't Eten from here? He's probably a boss and you have to fight him to earn his respect.”

“I came to the same conclusion,” Quille Treten assured them.

“That doesn't look much like Eten, but we haven't talked much,” Dennet said, pointing at a green column of unnatural winds ceaselessly swirling called Spirit Tornado.

“Hey Eten! Looking good! Finishing Strike!” A Spirit Tornado was as good as an Eten when it came to losing HP despite not having a body, and the Rares set about facilitating that process in order to realize its ultimate consequence.

The Spirit Tornado resisted by running over them and flinging their helpless bodies high overhead, not quite high enough to high-five the sun the Infernos loved so much, but sufficient for the Storms to request the autograph of Lusin, goddess of the winds.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hard to do damage up here!” Quille shouted.

“OK, come up with a plan! I'll see you at the bottom!” Dennet yelled.

The first idea veterans had, which was cheating off Vinnette Melban's homework, was made impractical by the refusal of Dovesk to be made out of sand.

“We can tie ourselves together to increase our weight,” Dennet suggested. Seconds later, the five Rares soared through the air, but at least loneliness no longer afflicted them.

“Confuse the thing, that's the trick,” Quille said. “Do a handstand when it comes for you. You'll be thrown downward.” That plan worked perfectly, except for the bit where physics opted not to throw them downward.

“Does this even matter? We're still winning. Big deal if maybe there's some way to skip the flight.”

“Sindze is right. The only way is to rotate in the opposite direction and negate the tornado's effects.”

“That isn't what I said at all, was it, Ulrik?”

“No time for regrets! Spin!” Sadly, Sindze's plan failed, leaving them in the air and with no choice but to kill the boss without discovering a fancy workaround. In the end, they stood triumphant yet not unashamed, except for Sindze.

“That's Chapter 6 over with,” said Quille.

“It doesn't look all that over. Look, red Scorptures,” a more observant local caravan guard with a crossbow said.

“Yeah, some chapters might have midbosses as they get longer, right? Oh, you should get one of those for your beard!”

“Can't argue with that. Who is the chapter boss, then?”

“I don't know, ask Reginald. Probably some loser with a dumb Doveskan name like Glits or something, not that idle mode would ever condescend to let us fight a real character.”

“Very well. Onward!”

Dennet and Ulrik would have obeyed Quille's command if not for the understandable circumstance that they had been killing Inferno Scorptures during that entire conversation while Vinnette provided Regen. All the palette-swapping and increased stats in the world failed to make the new Scorptures more intimidating than the Gulfgulls from long ago, which exploded for less damage but more impact and visual splendor.

Quille's troupe fought across Dovesk, presumably. All the rain made it hard to tell if they were going anywhere. “I bet players were glad to see the back of this chapter,” Dennet said. “There isn't even a new gear set.”

“Huh. That might have been saved for the Trials shop. 'Spend Dovesk Coins for gear!' You just have to beat up the Trial boss like a thousand times, that's all. Treskel, or Trickle, or Treacle. Something like that.”

“Right, right. I keep forgetting about the Trials. Wish we could do those.”

“Hmmmmm? Interested in buying some Trial sets? Or . . . your own, personal Minsie S. Triddel, perhaps?”

“What? No!”

“Oh, you wanted a Coremel then? I had no idea! Too bad they're all sold out. Maybe if you're a good little Dennet, Santa will refresh the shop for Christmas.”

“That's absurd, Sindze. Dennet will never be good. He's a Rare. Hahaha!”

“Santa that up a bit.”

“Sound advice, Ulrik, very sound. Ho ho ho!”

As important as belittling Dennet may have been, the party did not pause its combat endeavors to accomplish it. The officers scuppered Doveskans and destroyed Scorptures for wave after wave, and then another wave after that, and a fourth? What a surprise! No matter how many came, the overleveled and average-equipped Rares slaughtered them all.

“I want better equipment. I want to Exceed Refine! Flames of Dovesk!”

“This country's landlocked so there're no materials for Pirate gear! Desperate Defense!”

“So now material drops make sense? Barbed Arrow!”

“Next chapter . . . Public Examination!”

“Is that true, Princess Melban? Inferno Strike!”

“'Exceed Refine Monthly' said so . . .”

“Excitement doubles my power! Intimidating Strike!”

“Isn't that Enid Rosebouquet's thing? I don't think you have that, Ulrik.”

“What else does my Skill Star lack, Dennet? I want to hear every single relevant effect.”

“No Defense Down, Inferno Intensification or Inferno Vulnerability, Flood Fortification, Mimicry of any element, Masochism . . .”

“Yeah that's great, don't let me stop you from piling on, but that dragon's probably the substitute boss, don't you think? I mean it might be the Story boss, for all I know.”

Flashes of lightning highlighted terrible red eyes, a sinewy neck, and a tan, scaled body. A Quake Dragon! Its roar drowned out the thunder, and the very clouds dried up in its presence. Dovesk's ferocious weather retreated and left the field to an enemy fiercer yet.

“OK, now tie up Sindze, and when it accepts the sacrifice, we strike.” Dennet's proposal aroused some early interest, but Sindze U. Radalo offered an alternative.

“Or we could just hit it, like I'm already doing. Distracting Arrow!”

“Yeah, but the thing is, the elemental effects are getting pretty major. That active did less than Ulrik's normals.”

“So hit him more!”

Ulrik spoke, compelled by admiration. “Sindze! That's Reaper talk. Do you want to be a Reaper? I permit you to read my Reaper Monthly back issues.”

“Isn't that just a bunch of pictures of Havamal with hearts drawn on them?”

“Dennet! You subscribe too?”

“The articles on swords . . . are nice . . .”

“I never felt closer to you all than I do today.”

“Oh . . .”

All the Quake Dragon's fury and might meant nothing against the power of the bonds formed by the Rares and also an overleveled Inferno Reaper. More so that second part. Even so, its raking claws and earth-shaking point blank area of effect attack meant something against Sindze's health bar. Furthermore, the bonds of friendship that transcended space and time suffered a blow when Quille asserted that Reaper Monthly was a “worthless rag” that relied on “sensationalism and commendable photography instead of facts.”

The fight degenerated into both the Quake Dragon and Vinnette chasing after Sindze U. Radalo, if for different reasons, while Ulrik and Quille chopped up the boss's tail. Dennet stood still, launching bolts and yelling at Sindze to run in a circle around him for his convenience.

Archer tanking proved its value that day. The Quake Dragon's various HP bars fell while Sindze's single one stayed Vinnette-steady at around 24,000 of her 30,480 total. Quille Treten gave the gift of not taking the dragon's attention, and therefore the spotlight, away in appreciation for all of Sindze's good work and encouraging words.

Two bars, six bars, eight bars, twelve, and the Quake Dragon dissolved into the ether, its place taken by the resumed rains. “Another chapter down,” Quille Treten announced. “In such a fashion that I don't fear the next.”

“Yeah, but we wouldn't be able to finish it. Maybe we can make it to 40 if we stay here the rest of the day, not that it means anything.”

“I agree with Dennet except where he adopts nihilism as his philosophy. I believe in life. Floods are incapable of understanding Inferno vitality and optimism.”

“I meant 40 isn't much of a landmark, not like 90 or 100.”

“Uh huh.” Everybody except Dennet winked and waggled eyebrows at one another until he swore to put them in the S tier on his tier list of big jerks.