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"I need a moment," Vincent said, sitting on the grass. He wrapped his arms around the knees, every muscle in his body feeling like a wet noodle. The adrenaline was leaving him, and the backlash arrived.

"They were bad people," Irene tried to comfort him, patting Vincent's back. "You had to do it. It was them or us. I…" she choked, "am as guilty… I wanted Joe dead so badly… Oh, my God! What have I done?"

Vincent nodded, hiding his face and tears inside his elbows. The truth was he couldn't care less about killing a bunch of evil people, but agreeing with Irene was easier than explaining himself. The thought of losing Irene to a jerk who was going to sell her into slavery shoved a fist-seized knot in Vincent's throat. That was what bothered him… And most of all, He should have seen it coming… Brandi understood and pulled the girl after her, speaking in her ear.

Slowly, Vincent regained composure. Bellow him, the rest were looting the corpses. Bee had descended on the bottom of the ravine, using a rope tied around his waist, and struggled to untie a horse's saddle.

He's growing up, Vincent smiled. He wondered if any of them would have imagined themselves undressing dead bodies just six days prior. Maybe Brandi… She scolded Bee for taking too long, then pulled him back on the road and took his place. Jong was probing the carriage. Probably thinking no one was seeing them, Irene and Bee hugged. She kissed his cheek after fondling it with her hand, and he kissed the inside of her palm.

Love is beautiful, Vincent thought with a pang of sadness. He was still attracted to the girl but knew she was better off with somebody more like her.

"Ahum," someone cleared their voice not far away.

"What the heck?" Vincent blurted, turning around. The two archetypes, Kiara and Hubris, stood a few feet behind him.

"Hi," Kiara waved. She was using a real voice this time, not talking in his head.

"What's going on?" Vincent asked.

"We have a problem," she lowered her eyes. "Another Archetype got jealous of my summoning being so successful and tried to kidnap the most promising member of your group. The young man you call Bee."

"You mean some of you guys are… err… evil?" Vincent gasped.

"A few are not nice, but one of them is particularly… unhinged," Kiara wrinkled her nose. "Worse than Hubris by a mile."

"Sorry to change the topic, but how can a guy named Hubris be the Archetype of Wisdom?" Vincent asked despite his better judgment, hoping the entity would not smite him.

"Because reason is but a thin paper covering an ocean of instincts and darkness. I'm about controlling those instincts through reason."

"While the Raven is about the end justifies the means," Kiara spoke. "If he'd be your patron, he'd say things like kill your friends to farm XP."

"I see," Vincent nodded.

"Your eyes tell me you have encountered this kind of people in the past," Hubris said. "The Raven likes to corrupt minds. Joe was my protégé at first. A low-level mobster, but not too bad. Then Raven convinced him to get into the slave trade."

"Why do you allow it?" Vincent sneered.

"Allow it? You think we are puppeteers, controlling people?" Hubris raised his voice, pulling back his hood. He looked like a stern man in his early forties, weathered through challenges. "We do not. We are offering information and bespoke rewards to those we deem worthy, that's all. Our powers are limited, and each of us acts independently."

"However, I and Hubris agreed to work together on this matter," Kiara said. "We convinced the System to forbid the Raven from interfering with you, but we can't stop him from accessing notifications. We'll keep those to a bare minimum for a while."

"Is this guy the reason we were summoned?" Vincent asked.

"No," Hubris answered. "The danger is yet to be identified… The Raven fought along with us whenever there was a threat to the Realm. But his methods are barbaric and counterproductive. Best luck. It's time for us to go. Our visits are governed by many rules, and interfering with the Summoned has to be kept to a minimum for our sake and yours. If we detect any danger, we will send you a notification with three exclamation marks in it."

"What about that Mongols?" Vincent rushed to ask.

"You have nothing to worry about," Kiara said. "Their Shaman is a protégé of mine. They're doing their yearly tour, asking for protection money or food. As long as the Mayor delivers, no harm will come to you."

"One more thing," Hubris said. "Be vigilant. Beauhemia is a vassal to Hungary, and the Hungarian dynasty is devoted to the Raven. Their King is currently visiting Pragwyn."

"So he's the one behind—"

"We can't be sure. But those were Royal Knights, so…"

"Shit," Vincent sighed.

"Keep your eyes peeled until he leaves; it's a matter of days. You should be safe afterward." The last of Hubris's words faded in intensity, and then the Archetypes were gone.

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Vincent hurried to rejoin his friends. Running downward on a steep slope was nothing for him, and he could see the envy in their eyes. "I'll teach you. It's easy, you'll see," he tried to raise their morals.

"I'm OK," Jong said. "What did the fairy want from you?"

"And who was the other guy?" Bee asked.

"A friend of hers. Bad news: There are also evil Archetypes in this Realm, and one of them made one of his minions kidnap Bee because of his class and Karma skills."

"Karma skills?" Irene asked.

"The stuff I used to teleport. Bee will get an insanely powerful perk once he can afford it. Vincent slapped the youngster's shoulder, almost sending him into the ravine. "Sorry… I have to learn to control my strength."

"Vincent can fight the grown-up tiger in hand-to-hand combat," Bee praised his mentor.

For a second, Vincent noticed a glint of appreciation in Irene's eyes. He cursed at the feeling because he didn't want to care about that, but then the moment was gone. "Let's tie up and go home," he said. "What's left to take?"

"Not much," Jong said, pointing to a pile of weapons and armor wrapped in blankets and hanging on the back of the horse that pulled the cart, a Zen Mount. "We took everything that was still in decent condition. I found a small coffer with gold, too."

"Is the drone destroyed?" Vincent asked.

"Only shaken. I need to recalibrate the camera, that's all."

"Fantastic. I'll be back in a second."

Teleporting up to his previous position, Vincent searched carefully for his bullet cases. He didn’t want to leave too many traces and, most of all, hints about new technologies. Once Vincent found what he searched for, he returned to his friends on foot.

"Touch me," he said.

Magic defied logic yet had common sense, he realized. Now, when out of combat, going to the town felt easier. He imagined the place, bringing it before his mind's eyes, concentrated, and then, with a soft plop, they reappeared a hundred yards before the East gate, behind a bend in the road, to avoid curious eyes.

The sun was rising, and Vincent's morale with it. On the way to the inn, in front of the police station, they met with Thomas and the mayor, shouting at each other.

"What's going on?" Irene asked.

"The tribute was stolen," the mayor yelled.

"What tribute?" Vincent asked.

"For the Mongols. We must pay them in food or gold to leave us alone. This dummkopf was supposed to guard it but got drunk!"

"I was drugged!" Thomas yelled. "I can't get drunk from a mere gallon of beer, two bottles of whiskey, and dessert wine!"

Wow! was the only word Vincent could think of.

Fortunately, Irene connected more dots than him. "Was by any chance the tribute in a wooden chest?" She put down the tiger—making Cupcake meowl in protest—and pulled the blanket to reveal the trunk found in the carriage.

"Yes! Come to Papa," the mayor rushed to hug the chest. "Where did you find it?"

"Joe stole the tribute and kidnapped me and Bee," she explained. " Vincent rescued us…" Irene glanced gratefully at the young man.

"I told you I was drugged!" Thomas growled. "We drank together… then I remember nothing…"

"Where is he?" the mayor asked.

"Dead," Jong said deadpanned.

"It was self-defense," Vincent rushed to say, just in case the law was tough on shooting an unarmed criminal.

"Who cares," the mayor spat on the ground. "You saved us the pain of quartering him."

"When does the payment take place?" Vincent asked.

"In about two hours," the mayor looked up toward the townhouse's horologe.

"And how is it done?"

"We draw straws, and the one who loses goes and delivers the tribute. Sometimes, they eat the messenger," the mayor whispered, covering one side of his mouth with his palm to make sure the few passersby didn’t hear.

"Straws are unnecessary. I'll do it," Vincent said.

"Much appreciated, son, much appreciated!" the mayor exclaimed. "Thomas, come to help me count the money. We want to be sure all is there… No offense, but some coins could have fallen on the way," he said to the group.

"Brandi, why don't you help the mayor count it? Vincent said. There was a chance the official pocketed some of the gold. The night had taught him trust was not to be given lightly.

"The coffer contains one thousand and two hundred thirty-two cold coins, considering the volume of the money," Bee said. "I have an eye for this kind of stuff…"

"But the tribute was supposed to be a thousand," Thomas said.

"Maybe Joe put his money in the trunk as well," Bee said.

"If so, the difference is yours, son," the mayor said.

Leaving Brandi with the sergeant and the mayor, the rest returned to the inn. Everything appeared normal. The freshly baked bread smelled good; everyone took a whole loaf, with or without butter.

"What level are you now?" Vincent asked.

"Thirteen," Bee said. “Before they tied me, I fought against those goons and got two levels.”

"Same," Irene said.

Vincent nodded. Maybe because they stalled until the tiger gave the alarm. "Good. Take a break, then exercise in your rooms or the courtyard until you increase your Body by at least one point. It's an order."

"Sure, boss," Bee said enthusiastically while Irene sulked. She wanted to sleep, most likely, but Vincent knew better. Sleep was hard to come for those who had just been through a traumatic event. Physical exercise was going to help them relax.

"I reached level fifteen," Jorge said. "Plus four levels."

"This is the way," Vincent said. "Could you repair that drone and keep the fight scene under surveillance?"

"In case the ones behind the kidnapping wonder why Joe is not back and send someone to see what happened?"

"Exactly. Follow them, and tell us if they're coming here.

"I hear and obey, my liege," Jorge executed a deep reverence, flourishing his right arm.

Vincent replied with a middle finger gesture, looking at Jong. "Level?"

"I'm twenty-eight," Jong said. "Doubled my levels in that fight."

"If you unlock any Karma skill, take it."

"Err… I don't see anything like that," Jong said. "But the notification for the leveling is idiotic. Quote: You did stuff and reached level twenty-eight."

"It's because of that evil Archetype, the Raven," Vincent said. "He can’t see us anymore but has access to notifications, so those were reduced to a minimum."

"Makes sense," Bee said. "Archetypes are parts of the System… But if there's infighting…. That's worrying."

"The Raven?" Jorge asked. "That's the evil we're supposed to fight?"

"No, he's only a bad player."

"Wait! I just remembered. You told us his protégé was the Hungarian king?" Jong yelled, making everyone in the room look at him.

"Yes, the one who built that famous castle. I heard Budapest is lovely this time of the year," Vincent said loudly to create a diversion.

"Not this Budapest," Jong hissed. "It's considered the most bleak city in Europe. The king rules with an iron fist, and he's notoriously dangerous! But it makes sense. The dynasty is called Corvinus—"

"It means Raven, in Latin," Irene said.

"The present king is Ludwing the First. He murdered his father and brothers to take the throne. He's like three hundred years old."

"Really?"

"Everything is in the memo we gave you," Irene said.

Vincent vaguely recalled a sheet of paper he had forgotten unread on the nightstand. Promising himself to be more professional in the future, he took the last piece of bread in a napkin and rose. "It's time to check my skills and stats if you don't mind…"