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"And…. One… hund… dred… Gah…"

Heaving, Irene collapsed on her face. Her arms ached, but at least she had reached twenty in Body. Collecting herself from the floor, she took out her phone. The screen saver displayed a photo of her and the group, taken by the drone in the Corvinus castle during their heist. She caressed Vincent's image with her thumb.

"Please, be safe…"

Her eyes became watery, and she tried to encourage herself by thinking about Kiara's personal message after the fight:

Vincent Velasco has been transported to his original planet, after winning the duel with Ludwing, the king of Hungary, and slaying the Raven.

That was all the message, enigmatic and vexing. All tickets Irene tried to lodge had returned with the same tag: Restricted Information.

Feeling sweaty after all the exercise, she took a shower. A cold one. It was part of her new goal and training curricula. Becoming a true fighter, no more a liability. Making Vincent proud of her when he returned. Because she was sure he would, refusing any other option; otherwise, she would be overwhelmed with sorrow…

Dressing in her new armor, a combination of leather, steel, and carbon fiber—all enchanted, Irene went to the cantina for a coffee and a croissant, a frugal breakfast, one she considered spartan enough for the warrior a table in the back. The first was drunk, with an empty vodka bottle lying on the floor and a half-empty one on the table. "What do you think you’re doing?" Irene grabbed the liquor and threw it into the garbage bin. "He's alive. He will come back to us."

"You can have him… prff…" Raya pulled her tongue out at Irene, her eyes crossing themselves under the influence of the alcohol, eyelids dropping. "I don't caaaaaaare for him," she yawned. "I came back only to kill him. Strangle him and spank his cute little ass while we make love. I'll never let him touch me again," Rayaa added without much logic. Then, she fell forward, head banging on the table, and began snoring.

"She's upset Vincent promised her a glorious hero death, then cheated, treating her like a weak woman in need of protection," Lila tried to explain. The young dancer had deep black circles under her eyes, a sign she didn't sleep much either.

"We had a romp for two days, and he treats me like the love of his life? This is humiliating. Exacerbating. Fuckerating. In one word: wrong and perverse," Raya mumbled, her eyes closed.

If the woman was speaking in her sleep or the alcohol talked through her, Irene couldn't know. "I don't care what she thinks. Raya must get herself back together. We have a lot of work on our hands, and she's temporarily the second in command. I count on you," Irene looked Lila directly in the eyes, "to take care of that. Understood?"

"Y-yes…" Lila stuttered, lowering her gaze.

"We’re in this together," Irene said, fondling her shoulder. "What's up?"

"I'm afraid he'll leave me…" she sighed. "He told me too often I'm better without him… and now he’s in love with you…"

"Who said he isn’t with you too? He just didn’t have the time to tell you before he got... I don’t even know how to call this thing… De-Isekaied?"

"I barged into his life… I—"

"A good man is hard to find; you were right to do so," Irene insisted. "Praytell, what would you do if I weren't so… open-minded and we'd be… concurrence?"

"Fight you tooth and nail for him!" Lila sneered.

"That's the spirit," Irene patted Lila’s back, turning on her heels and leaving the room to return to her quarters, the stables. Cupcake, the tiger cub, was sleeping when Irene picked her up and growled, but the woman disregarded the protest. "We're visiting your folks, then I have some business to do on my own. They can babysit you for a while."

After leaving the city, Irene put the pet down. Walking a mile wouldn't hurt the little one; Cupcakes had become a bit plump. "Meoooow!" the cub complained, sitting on his derriere, silently affirming: 'I won't budge if you're not carrying me.'

Irene walked on. A minute later, a torrent of hisses and snorts announced the tiger was running to catch up. "That’s my baby. See, you're a good girl when you want," she patted the cub's head. "Let's go to the clearing."

Strolling through the woods cleared Irene's head, chasing away some of her tiredness. It was late August, and for whatever reason, the sun was warmer in color compared to July. The green leaves and the grass had a slight yellowish hue, like in the old family photos of her father… A jolt of emptiness went through her heart. She missed her parents, Vincents… and some friends from college… shallow girls, maybe, but good gossippers… How much she wanted to rant and rant on about Vincent… her hero…

The tiger family was at the edge of the clearing, but other people were also there. Two caravans, pulled by heavy horses, with a man and a woman on the benches, and Hari, the Spriggan.

"Hello," she saluted.

"A fortunate coincidence. Irene's our Guild Deputy," Hari presented her.

"Glad to meet you," the woman said. "Masha, leader of the Beauhemian Bohemians' Circus."

"Pasha, chief of the Bouncing Tigers Circus." The man, in his early thirties, jumped down from the caravan and offered a handshake. He kept Irene's hand in his for two long seconds, then kissed it and looked her in the eyes.

Irene wished she had the power to kill with her mind. The individual was good-looking and, on any other day, worth mentioning to her normal besties on Earth… but here? How dare he flirt with her while her heart was aching after her true love?

"I'm sorry, I couldn’t help myself… You're dazzling," the man excused himself, reading the vibe.

White Roar roared.

"He wants to get to the subject," Masha said.

"What's going on?" Irene asked.

"I was going to bond with the beast when those two appeared," Hari started.

"Allow me," Masha raised her hand. "The male cat was part of our circus. Bonded to me, his Tamer and trainer. We treated him well… Yet, a few months ago—"

"He ran away with the star of my show, Brilliantine," Pasha gestured toward the female tiger. "Both our circuses were in Bayreuth. They need tamed monsters every year for the ride of the Valkyries. The opera by Rudolf Wagnore."

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"You mean they fell in love? So romantic!" Irene melted, kneading her hands and looking heavenward, eyes gleaming. Everything even remotely connected to romance made her cry lately.

"It took months to track them. We were debating who would keep them," Masha said. "We don't want to separate a family, but technically, they're our property, and neither of us wants to renounce their rights."

"And I was telling them that slavery is forbidden in Beauhemia and Krivoburg's Guildchy," Hari interjected. “They're smart enough to be sentients, thus—”

“They’re a domestic breed and have difficulty leveling on their own. They need a master… call it companion if you must,” Mahsa said.

"What the heck is a guchy?" Pasha snorted at the same time.

"Vincent invented the term. A Guildchy is like a duchy, only run by a guild,” Irene explained. “Our guild. Everything west of Prague… I mean, Pragwyn is our domain now. We’re in our right to free the tigers. Yet," she raised her hand to stop the man's protest, "I won't do you injustice. Let's consider they are artists in breach of contract. How much to… settle things?"

A dialogue of eyes briefly jumped from Pasha to Masha. There were many things said there, silently. A sliver of a wink from the woman meant: 'We can milk these suckers dry.' A slight smirking, Pasha's upper lip showing his white teeth, and arms slightly bending, biceps growing, said: 'We can overpower them and take the tigers.' That also implied they had a way to control the animals, as White Roar was not a beast to be trifled with.

Irene was on the point of calling for reinforcement when Hari leaned casually on a tree, speaking in a soft voice. "Our Guild Master is very fond of them… They're like his pets now… You might have heard of him. Vincent Valaška. The Summoned who slayed the Archetype? It was all over the newspapers."

Irene could literally see the shiver passing through both the Circus folks. Their attitude became relaxed… no… resigned.

"How much?" Masha asked.

"What about a hundred gold for each…" Irene slowed because the woman's eyes showed disappointment. The tigers were worth more. They were bringing constant money, like an investment. "Cubs included. So, two hundred fifty gold for each of you… and maybe you can borrow them once a year for that Nibelungen thing? And, of course, you would be welcome to perform in any city in our Guildchy without paying taxes… for five years."

The last offer changed the woman's attitude from sad to greedy. "What towns, more precisely?"

"Krivoburg, Plzeň, Karlovy Vary, Egercheb, and every small town from the northern to the southern border, west of Pragwyn," Hari said.

"Deal!" Masha descended from the bench, spitting in her palm and forwarding it. Pasha repeated the gesture. Irene discreetly wiped her palm on her jacket after the handshakes.

"I'll miss you," Masha went and fondled the White Roar’s head. He licked her face, looking sad. "But I understand… Love does that to people too…"

Meanwhile, Irene sent an SMS to Nina, the treasurer of the Guild, warning her about the fees to be paid. "Our seat is in the inn in the Main Square… You can't miss it. I… magically sent instructions for you to be paid."

Minutes later, the caravans slowly left, heading east on the road Vincent had cleared after their arrival. That made Irene miss him even more. "I suppose you were bonding with them to bring them into town?" she asked Hari.

"Yes, deputy. They would be a great help for—"

"I'm sure they will," she interjected. "Cupcake, stay with them. Hari, the inn's stables are… will be free…" I have to move to a normal room, she thought.

She had choices, fortunately. The inn was growing into a giant tree house. They had bought the building and planted the Dungeon seed underneath. The town and the surroundings also expanded, stretching out a few yards a day.

Hari turned toward the tiger family, gesturing and mumbling something. It was a dialogue, Irene realized, the tigers nodding very clearly, but one in which she wasn’t interested. It was time to move on. Irene walked away and put some speed in her steps. It was finally time for her secret plan. Hunt some beasts to train in real combat—without Brandi’s knowledge, or the bodyguard would have objected—and, hopefully, gain a level or two.

Irene was a Sorcerer, level forty now, but all her experience had been owed to others—whenever combat had been involved—or organizing the guild… She needed to better herself. It didn't bother her that she was only a Rare tier compared to Vincent's Mythical and the many Elites or Legendaries around. Sorcerers were Jacks of all trades, well-rounded, and their Mana pool was the highest of all magical classes, thrice the level plus Spirit numbers.

She opened her menu, stopping under a tree. The numbers were round because he had invested a few tokens to raise them.

Name: Irene Altenschloss. Age: 22. Class: Sorcerer. Level: 40 Species: Nekojin

Body: 20 / Mind: 50 / Spirit: 50

Stamina: 600 / Concentration: 900 / Mana: 2700

Available Tokens: 10

She decided against spending her remaining Tokens yet. Time would tell if she needed more Mana or skills. She felt her abilities were well-rounded, and she had invested wisely. Irene had not bought any Language proficiency, counting on the Common tongue knowledge she already had. And the phone now had a translating app. Likewise, no lightning or fire damage. The first was covered by Raya and a few Wizards in the guild. The latter could do collateral damage and was dangerous. Finesse, that was what Irene was looking for.

For now, she had the Magic Missile—the better variant of a Mana Bolt— and Psychic Spear for damage and CC; Mage Armor, Mind Castle, Enhance Skill, Retreat, Mage Armor, Mirror Image for defense or escaping, as well as Stealth, at which she sucked but was dead set to practice fervently. Her Rare skills were neat and self-explaining, costing just two tokens to acquire.

Breathing Under Water, Dark Vision, Mend, and Blunt Weapons Proficiency covered more niche needs but made her feel whole. And two of those had cost her only one token. One.

The cherry on the cake was Charm. A passive or active skill working in or out of combat on monsters or people and synergizing with Nekojins. Twice the effect, half the cost.

Waving between the trees, she hiked for half an hour up a hill with a cave on the other side. The lair of a Crazed Bear of the same tier and level as her. Irene felt confident she could hold her weight against the beast. Those low in levels had cautiously let the bear be, and the higher ones, the Amazons, didn't bother chasing a pest half their worth.

Approaching the lair in stealth, Irene prepared her staff—a weapon borrowed from the town’s priest—clutching it in her hands, a bit apprehensive. Sniffing the air, its head raised, the bear exited the cave, growling. It was level forty-two… A bit higher than expected, but not by much.

From twenty yards, Irene pointed the staff and focused a Charm. A moment later, the bear froze, then relaxed, sitting on his hind legs. She unleashed two Magic Missiles in quick succession, aiming for the chest.

The next second, the bear was on Irene. She ducked at the last second. The monster’s paw swiped above her head, tearing a sapling into pieces, the shrapnel going all over her face, leaving countless small cuts.

Warning: Attacking a Charmed animal and failing to kill it from the first hit enraged the monster. It will score double the physical damage for a minute.

"Fuck," Irene blurted, activating Mage Armor and Retreat. She retreated by flying in the air because another hit got her square in the back. Her body ached everywhere, but luckily, the double layer of magical and physical armor resisted.

"Let me be!" she screamed in panic, hitting the monster's snout with her staff. That made it hesitate for a moment, enough for her to run. Retreat was doubling her speed as long she was channeling Mana into it. Ashamed of herself, she started running in a circle, shooting Magic Missiles. The staff helped her with the spells' speed, adding ten percent in power.

The bear came at her again, and she plunged into a copse, the dense saplings offering her a moment of respite until the beast started to mow them down, breaking a few at each swipe of his claws. A fate that was about to be hers, too.

"Psychic Spear," she yelled. The words were unnecessary, but desperation didn't care about protocol.

The spell paralyzed the monster in place. Forgetting fairness, Irene snatched Brandi's rifle from her back—an item 'borrowed' without the owner's consent—and discharged both barrels in the bear's mouth, point blank. It collapsed backward, dead, and she fell on her knees, crying, head into her hands, letting the rifle fall down.

You have slain Crazed Bear, level 42. You have leveled x1.

"How is he doing this?" she wailed, thinking of Vincent. There were bear brains and blood all over her. And that was the good news. The bear could have had pieces of Irene on his snout as easily if she’d hesitated for one more second. Irene imagined being eaten while still alive and puked. Slowly, she gathered back her wits. Five minutes later, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and got up… She had to learn from her mistakes and become stronger. If fighting hundreds of level ten forest mice was what it took to learn how to fight, Irene was ready to do it.