Ray was facing a familiar mild conundrum. It turned out he would have to make a choice between two great options once again. He was really getting tired of first-world problems even under something like the System.

He had taken a peek at his latest item acquisition using Presence of the Primordial.

[Presence of the Primordial]

Presence of the Primordial indicates a new accessory can interact with Mana in a unique manner.

* Silver True Mana Bracelet: Cuff worn at the wrist that can store True Mana that can be used later by the caster. Patterns of waves automatically twists and condenses ambient Mana into True Mana held in the bracelet’s material. Maximum capacity is 50 True Mana, which is generated at 5 True Mana per hour. [Tier 4]

The True Mana Bracelet was apparently a little battery. A self-charging one at that, for which Ray was thankful. He wouldn’t need to constantly feed it his own Mana to fill it up. Instead, it would automatically take it in from the environment. How convenient.

Ray did wish he’d had the option of putting his own Mana into it. If it would have allowed him to speed up the True Mana generation process, that was.

The new bonus provided for crossing the Hallow Reputation was pretty interesting too. It was a reverse of the one provided by Benevolent. Where the latter would refund him the Mana cost of a spell after a certain number of casts, Hallow would negate any costs upfront. Even better, it worked on True Mana, which had a lot higher cost than regular Mana spells.

Ray would need to figure out how to go about his upcoming encounters to make the best use of that.

It was the rewards provided by the dungeon establishing achievement that intrigued him the most, however.

Apparently, he was supposed to know where the next Tower Node would be. Well, he didn’t. Specifically, the next Tower Node would appear on its own as soon as he was close enough. But how was he supposed to get close enough?

The next reward stated that he was going to receive a tiny percentage of all rewards from the dungeon. That just led to more questions Ray wouldn’t get the answers to easily. Would those percentages essentially end up being tiny chunks of Mana fruit, or would the System wait until the percentages added up to 100 and give him a whole fruit?

Also, would those percentages come from the rewards of other people? If the latter was how he would get his reward, would it mean that some poor schmuck would magically lose his Mana fruit to Ray?

He shook his head. Only time was going to tell.

The math did add up in his favour, to an extent. 2% of dungeon rewards meant he would need the Faction members to collect at least 50 Mana fruits per day to keep Ray stockpiled with one fruit per day as well. They didn’t have 50 people in the Faction, so that wasn’t exactly going to happen, but thirty-seven wasn’t bad.

Plus, the Faction would grow. Maybe the dungeon and the amount of Mana fruits would grow too.

It would still cut down how often Ray needed to collect the fruit himself. Ray would take that little win.

Last of all, Ray finally decided to accept the Vengeful Plunder skill. Everything he had learned so far suggested there shouldn’t be any drawback along the lines of suffering unintentional interference from the Marauder just because Ray had the skill gifted by the Paragon’s Tower Node.

He needed to stop letting his worries prevent him from using what could legitimately be great for him. There was a balance of caution and risk-taking to be maintained. Ray might have veered a little too hard on caution with Vengeful Plunder.

With all that done, he had to figure out his next move. Though for now, Ray stayed with the Insurge Faction. The Sylvans’ threatening departure had left most people expecting an attack. They were on edge at all times.

Well, everyone save Gritty.

She had been rather sad that she had arrived after everything was taken care of and had sought to leave for bloodier pastures afterwards.

But Maya had asked her to stay for a bit, just as she had done with Ray. Things were still uncertain. As such, Gritty had remained at the Base, though Ray had no idea where she was in the keep. He was just glad she wasn’t barging into his chat.

It was nice in a way to spend time at the Base. Ray got a first-hand look at how Maya was running the whole place.

Her competence at it was surprisingly great. She had already separated most of the people according to their different classes and what they were competent at. Some people were crafters, some people were cooks, a couple were even farmers—they’d be the ones to take charge of the dungeon.

Everyone was coming together with their various skills to contribute to the Faction’s upkeep. People were trying to make simple clothes, cutlery, plumbing, and so on and so forth.

They really were trying to make this keep their home.

Ray wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was definitely not for him. His future lay higher up the Tower, that was for certain.

A part of him believed that to be true for most people as well. Would it really be good for humanity in general if enough of them chose to remain on the First Floor and stagnate their eventual growth?

Though, he supposed the people who wouldn’t grow the same way he did—the crafters and farmers, for instance—wouldn’t benefit as much.

In the end, the decision wasn’t really Ray’s, no matter how he felt. He of all people understood what it meant to have control over one’s own life. If people decided staying on the First Floor was what would be best for them, then so be it. That was their choice to make.

“You want to fight me?” Ray asked.

Gritty nodded. Her choppy hair was extra messy, shaking when she moved her head. She had cornered him from out of nowhere the next day, apparently quite bored.

“Show me what you’ve got, wingman,” she said. “And if I can hand you your ass, you’ll have to tell me all your secrets.”

“What do I get if I win?”

She grinned at him. “I’ll sing a song for you, how about that?”

Ray grimaced. “Sorry, I don’t want a lunatic rendition of Asking Alexandria.”

Her eyes lit up like she was a preacher and he had mentioned the Bible. “Asking Alexandria is so twenty-ten. You need to listen to real shit, my man. Like Bad Omens and I Prevail.”

Ray shook his head. They did end up sparring a bit. No skills. No spells. Gritty apparently wanted to improve her basic combat skills, so they fought bare-fisted like they were System-less idiots back on Earth.

Well, Ray called it a sparring session, but it was more like he was trying to emulate everything he knew about bare-knuckle brawling and street fighting.

He probably wasn’t doing a great job. It was mostly Gritty’s fault. She fought like a housecat with its tail on fire. Calling her feisty and ferocious was an understatement. It was like her life’s mission was to fuck up Ray in any way possible, and he was forced to call a time out when she kicked him in the balls.

“God,” he muttered. “How is hitting people in the balls helping you train?”

“I’m helping you, wingman. What if someone else hits you in the balls? Someone who wants to actually kill you?” She pantomimed his doubling over motion. “Are you going to struggle like a fish out of water and let yourself be chopped down?”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Please. If I had my spells, no one would be close enough to hit me in the balls. Plus, everything we’ve fought are either monsters who don’t have a concept of balls or strange, sword-wielding aliens who… also probably don’t have a concept of balls.”

Gritty sighed long-sufferingly like she often taught men that getting hit between the legs was going to be their downfall, but they never learned their lesson. “One day, you’ll remember what I tried to teach you, wingman.”

They took an actual break, but it did make Ray wonder about his actual fighting capabilities. When things came down to it, he wasn’t a fighter. Someone more experienced could probably drown him in criticism. He didn’t hold his arms up right, didn’t position his legs correctly, didn’t probably channel his inner Muay Thai spirit, and whatnot.

Was it worth bothering with, though? Probably yes, but better question was if he had the time.

“Where’d you learn to… fight like that?” Ray asked his sparring partner.

Her eyes squinted. “I heard that hesitation.”

Ray kept his face blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gritty rolled her eyes. “I’ve always fought like that. That’s how I beat everybody who tries to mess with me. Even now, actually. I think it’s why I got the class and Path I did. Like, this whole System business knows me, knows what I’m good at, and that’s exactly what it gifted me. It’s kind of wondrous, isn’t it?”

Ray remembered well how his entire life had been evaluated. “Magical, yeah. What do you mean how you beat everybody?”

“Exactly what you think it means. Come on, I’ll help you get better.”

“I never asked for help.”

She held up a middle finger as she walked away, then wiggled it in a come-hither gesture. Sighing, Ray stepped up once more.

Gritty was sincere about helping this time. Some of the stuff she tried to drill into him was already basics he had picked up from here and there. Holding his elbows tight and vertical, making sure he had a bend in his knees to keep himself mobile, the basic jabs and hooks.

Ray wasn’t sure how they’d help him in the battles he had faced, but at least he wasn’t making a complete fool of himself.

There were some things he didn’t know about, though.

Such as controlling his breathing. Apparently, it was better to breathe in when defending and exhale when attacking. Huh. Who’d have thought.

Knowing what sort of distance to maintain between himself and his opponent.

Actually being defensive and slow at the start of the fight, drawing out the opponent’s aggression if need be, just so he could get a better understanding.

Things like that would help Ray in his fights going forward. Things like that he could definitely get behind. He would just need some practice and active application to make sure he remembered to use them when the time came.

Kredevel: Ray? Are you able to see this?

“Holy sh—” Ray bit down on his curse as he pushed away the blue screen in front of his face only to get socked in the jaw by Gritty.

“What?” Gritty asked. “Does my fist taste that good?”

Ray rubbed the spot where he’d been hit. “Stop being weird for a sec. I got a message I need to check.”

Leaving a curious Gritty behind, he pulled up the chat window again.

Ray: Kredevel? I’m here. What’s going on? Are you alright?

Kredevel: Ah, your concern does you credit. But yes, I am fine. Better than fine, truth be told. Do you wish to know why?

Ray: Uh, sure.

Kredevel: I have been told, in no uncertain terms, that I must find your charred pieces and bring them to the Floor Lord.

Ray: …

Kredevel: But worry not, there is much more that I learned. I will not be endangering your life any further. My days of following Olgolair are over. I am now a free Sylvan, and I have decided that I will rise to the Second Floor.

Ray: Woah, that’s a big step. I’m guessing you confirmed that your Floor Lord is the one who sent that flying spear to kill everyone in your general vicinity.

Kredevel: You don’t have to mince your words, Ray. The fact of the matter is that the Floor Lord was using me to get to you. If I died along the way, it mattered not, so long as you were dead as well.

Ray: That fucking sucks.

Kredevel: By your tone, I will take expression to be something awful. Which it is.

The messages weren’t surprising. Ray had suspected that the Floor Lord had indeed used Kredevel to target his location and then attempt to kill him, regardless of whether Kredevel was caught in the same blast or not. In other words, this Olgolair really didn’t care what happened to his own subordinates.

But to see Kredevel being almost cavalier about it troubled Ray a bit. He had a feeling his Sylvan friend was not taking it well, and this was his way of showing it.

Ray: What are you going to do next, Kredevel? Head straight for the Second Floor?

Kredevel: I could. Although, with how tightly things are monitored at the moment, it would be difficult. Instead, once I take care of some further business here, I think I might take up the Floor Lord’s directive to find you. But not to kill you, mind.

Ray: LOL. I could use some help with certain things.

Kredevel: LOL?

Ray: I‘ll teach you what that means when we meet. Right now, I need to decide what I’m going to do, and I think I need your advice to make that decision.

Kredevel: How can I help?

Ray: I need to grow stronger. That’s the main thing. If you have suggestions on how I can do that quickly, I’m all ears. But I do have my own plans too, mostly revolving around the dungeons and monsters on the First Floor. That’s where you could help.

Kredevel: Ah, yes. You wish to access my knowledge of the First Floor.

Ray: Yeah, exactly. You knew about my Tier 7 tutorial zone. That means you probably know a lot about the entire Floor’s layout. So, can you tell me the strongest places I can go? The most powerful beings I can fight?

Kredevel was quite forthcoming about everything, as far as he was aware of them, at least. He didn’t know everything, but what he was able to tell Ray was more than enough to be going on with.

Apparently, there was one Tier 10 dungeon on the First Floor. That was at the very centre of the Floor—the spire he and every other Denizen could see rising high in the distance. The Sylvans’ headquarters was located atop the strongest dungeon on the Floor in Sector 1.

There were two Tier 8 dungeons in Sectors 19 and 5, and even a Tier 7 dungeon at Sector 33, which wasn’t too far from Ray’s location at Sector 59.

No Tier 9 dungeons, strangely. Ray wondered why that was, or if it was just by random chance.

Kredevel also knew a good deal about the powerful monsters on the Floor. Ray recognized a couple of them. The Irebolts and Windbanes were both familiar. As soon as the Sylvan had mentioned them, Ray had taken a peek at his Floor Objectives. Right, there they were. He would need to defeat them anyway.

Ray also learned about other monsters. There was the Guardian, an old and powerful Everair creature that was still alive and roaming the lands.

Plus, there were the Scalesails. Large, aquatic monsters that could move between bodies of water, provided they were big enough. If Ray was being honest, their ability to appear in any body of water, given it was sizable enough to bear them, sounded rather horrifying.

Kredevel: You should also know—I saw some of your kind in Sector 1 as well.

Ray: Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s people who already found a way to complete this crazy challenge and get to the Second Floor.

Kredevel: It isn’t just that. There were those who were working with us.

Ray: What do you mean?

Ray’s frown grew as he read Kredevel’s description of the people who had gone on to meet the Floor Lord. A gang with red cloth tied like armbands. Ah, crap. What in the world were the Wild Tides doing with the Sylvans of all people?

Kredevel didn’t know. He was aware that the Sylvan accompanying them was the second-in-command of all Sylvans on the First Floor.

That didn’t bode well.

Ray: One more thing. Do you know about… other kinds of Mana?

Kredevel: Ah, you seek to understand the various kinds of Mana available to Denizens.

Ray: Yeah.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he ought to reveal that he had access to True Mana now. Well, to an extent. But ah, what the hell.

Kredevel was literally betraying his entire race and Ray couldn’t detect any insincerity from him. The Sylvan wasn’t the type to be sneaky or lie. If he wanted to kill Ray, he would be upfront about it, which would was also rather respectful in its own way.

Kredevel: Hmm, let me see what I remember of my old boyhood classes. There are various kinds of Mana that empower and allow abilities that dig deeper than what is normally available to the beginner classes for most Denizens. They are often the pathways that integrate closely with Ascension Class Evolutions.

They were still communicating via just a chat window, but Ray could somehow glean that Kredevel now had a nerdy air about him. It was kind of funny to think of him that way. Tall, fancy alien with thick nerdy glasses and a polite school uniform.

Ray: LMAO.

Kredevel: What?

Ray: Sorry. I got distracted. That’s another acronym I’ll explain later. Anyway, what you said makes sense. I suppose I’ll need to evolve my class to properly use True Mana.

Kredevel: You have access to True Mana already? Quite impressive.

Ray: What other kinds are there? I have no way to tell how “impressive” it’s supposed to be.

That wasn’t really true. That dungeon he had met the Paragon in had confirmed that True Mana was supposedly the greatest variant of Mana. Of course, it could just have been hyping it up in a biased way. Something the Everair said to motivate their novitiates. So, best to make sure.

Kredevel: There are many kinds and explaining them all is beyond me, I’m afraid. Many Sylvans use Growth Mana, which allows growth abilities. The military of the long-gone Everair often used Flight Mana. Each of these kinds specialise in what they offer.

Ray: What does Growth Mana do?

Kredevel: Anything you can think of that you can attribute to “growth”, Growth Mana can do that. The same goes for all kinds of Mana.

Hmm. That made Ray wonder about his True Mana. “Growth” and “Flight” were clearly defined, more or less. But “Truth” was a lot vaguer.

Kredevel: I must go now. And prepare. Simply leaving will not do, so I will need to… act accordingly.

Ray: Ah. Well, take care. Hope I’ll see you soon.

Kredevel: Thank you, and you too. Do you know what you’re going to be doing next?

Ray: Yes. With everything you just said, I’ve got a decent plan of action. So thanks.

Kredevel: Of course. Farewell.

Ray returned the goodbye and closed the window. That had been an interesting talk, all around. He was left wondering what in the world Kredevel was going to have to do to leave. The Sylvan was capable, though, so he didn’t worry that he’d get caught in trouble.

“Had fun talking with your alien buddy?” Gritty was stretching and exercising by herself, like she was preparing for a thousand-mile marathon.

“More or less,” Ray said. “Thanks for the exercise, Gritty. It’s going to help.”

She grinned at him. “Cool, that means you owe me.”

Ray stared. “I owe you?”

“Yep.” She walked up to him. “And I’m here to collect on the debt, especially now that you have exactly what I need.”

“Now I do?”

“Yes, now that you’re in touch with your Sylvan friend. You, sir, are going to tell me exactly where the Sylvans and anyone else related to them are.”