He awoke the next morning to find the Merc gone, a small patch of congealed blood the only evidence of what happened the night before.
‘Let’s have a look at my Vitality and levels.’ He thought while summoning the Card.
The vitality gauge was red and 90% full. Exill snorted in disagreement. If he had to assign a numeric value to his overall health it would have been closer to 70%. He hadn’t tried putting weight on the leg yet, but was sure it would still hurt.
Scrolling just a bit further down the Card, he found the Speed stat gauge was two thirds full and coloured yellow. ‘That makes sense, I’m hobbled and can barely walk, let alone run.’
His eyes soon reached the bloated section listing his seven active jobs, grimacing as he struggled to recollect what level they had been previously.
‘Was [Crafter] lvl 5 or lvl 6 before I entered the Labyrinth yesterday?’ he wondered, before continuing his train of thought. ‘I think I rose one to two levels across the board. The fact that [Blacksmith] is stuck at lvl 20 confirms the progressive increase in required EXP.
Job Level Warrior 9+1 Hunter 1+2 Herbalist 3+1 Crafter 5+1 Blacksmith 20 Expert Blacksmith 2+1 Planeswalker 1+2
Exill had two more hypotheses to test regarding experience gain, but he wasn’t entirely sure what would be the best way to experiment. Common wisdom dictated that proficiency of primary jobs increased faster than secondary jobs. He had heard anecdotes on this many, many times. However, the data in front of him was conflicted, both supporting and disproving what common people took to be the truth.
[Hunter] and [Planeswalker] were placed on the second and seventh job slot respectively, yet both increasing from level 1 to level 3 suggesting the experience gain was shared equally despite the wide gap in placement.
At the same time, [Warrior] had increased to lvl 10 faster than expected. He had attained lvl 9 three months ago after defeating the plague rat and hadn’t trained it since. Exill needed to place [Warrior] in the seventh job slot to test his new hypothesis, swapping places with [Planeswalker]. If [Planeswalker] and [Hunter] continued to level up in lockstep, it would support the theory that primary and secondary jobs had no discernible meaning.
Satisfied with this, Exill started counting the Denars in his coin pouch. There were two large copper coins and two smaller pieces, 22 Denars in total.
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‘I need to write down my levels if I want to continue to experiment.’
There were thirteen jobs unlocked as of yet and it would only continue to grow, making it difficult to keep track of their levels. As a famous scientist once said, ‘the only difference between screwing around and science was writing it down’. He glanced at his squished ruck sack, visualising Verill’s letters and writing over them with his notes.
He swiftly dismissed the thought. ‘I’ll find something else, besides, I need to stock up on some more bandages and milk root for the coagulant. I guess I’ll go out shopping, rest, and reflect on my performance yesterday.’
With that, Exill groaned and got out of bed.
***
“Five Denars” the vendor held up five fingers to avoid any confusion.
Exill had been on his way to Ark’s Central Market, the largest of its kind in the whole Kingdom. It was a long way to walk considering his injured leg. He was having second thoughts when just around the corner, a small square off the main road, populated with a few stalls came into view. One of them, as luck would have it, sold household goods.
He inspected the plainly framed plank the size of a book. It was moderately heavy as it held a caked layer of fine clay. [Price Range] indicated the simple clay tablet was around three to five Denars. Theoretically, he could craft his own but didn’t have the tools or materials at hand.
“Three Denars.”
“You might find that price in Outer City if you’re lucky, friend… here, five Denar is very good price.”
“Four Denars, final offer.”
The vendor moaned and wrung his hand, complaining how he was stealing the bread out of his family’s mouth. Similarly Exill was groaning inside as he didn’t want to pay any more than three copper coins.
The merchant eventually accepted Exill’s large copper coin and returned six small ones as change. Grumbling at the state of his reduced funds, Exill scouted the small square, eyes on the lookout for a stall selling herbal ingredients.
He spotted a toothless old woman sitting on the ground in front of an alleyway with a small selection of herbs laid out on a wooden plank. Exill crouched down to inspect the goods, wincing as his thigh flared up in pain. He picked up a pale white root the size of two fingers.
“How much for this Grandma?” the old lady opened her toothless mouth as if to speak before holding up just two fingers. It was a fair price; he could probably refine this into three small portions.
“I’ll take it, do you happen to sell a small pestle and mortar or know anywhere that sells one?” the old woman cupped her ear, straining to hear Exill’s words over the market hubbub. Exill had to repeat himself twice before she finally nodded and started rummaging in the pack next to her. She took out a small shallow stone bowl the size of his palm and a short lumpy pestle. Both looked worn and old, heavy with use. She held up five fingers this time.
“Thank you, I’ll take it.” Exill placed seven denars on her palm and winced in pain as he stood back up. He was now going to head back, have a meal and rest.
***
The next day, Exill was enjoying his Wheyr tail soup for his midday meal. Unlike before, he took his time to enjoy the rich broth and potatoes that melted in the mouth. ‘Two Denars left... I’ll grab some bread tomorrow and head to the Merc guild.’
The leg hadn’t healed yet, but he was confident he would be able to hold his own in the Labyrinth tomorrow as long as it wasn’t strained. The shared room cost seven Denars a night and meals cost three. The ruthless fact was that Exill couldn’t afford to sit out and fully heal. He needed to be bringing in at least ten Denars a day.
He thought back to his first foray into the Labyrinth. A few conclusions had been made after reflecting on the events of that day. ‘It’s ridiculously easy to make money there. I was stupid and shouldn’t have fought four mudflies simultaneously. Things could have gone a lot worse’ he pursed his lips.
The key conclusion was that Iris was right. It was dangerous to go alone. If he had just one more person behind him that day, preferably with a spear, that last mudfly wouldn’t have slipped underneath and crippled him. Exill sighed, but it couldn’t be helped. “Splitting my earnings mean less for me, and more monsters to kill…”
He just hoped his partner wouldn’t leave him to die in the Labyrinth.