Gravity wrestled Rohan out from the saddle, but he held on. Gritting his teeth, he felt the inside of his stomach churn as Makvreiss pulled off these ridiculous aerial movements.

“Roll!” Vhaerla shouted and the wyvern did as told. The winged lizard rolled in the air as a trident ripped through the air below them. Whatever that was throwing at them these tridents were definitely chasing them from behind.

“Up! We need to go up!” Rohan shouted through the strong draft.

“I know!” Vhaerla sounded back. She knew well how to dodge persistent enemies, and up the clouds was where she sought. “Up, Makvreiss!”

The wyvern growled and his wings raced for the clouds. He swerved left and right, zig-zagging his path as tridents rained from below. Whoever down there really wanted them dead, and Rohan bet his life that they just encountered the boss of this dungeon.

Reaching the clouds, the wyvern vanished from sight. The moment they did, a loud screech pierced the skies as if venting its frustration over the fleeing enemy. They didn’t see it with their eyes, but they knew they just stirred the hornet’s nest.

“The hell is that, Rohan?” Vhaerla asked, frowning.

“Close to death experience,” he smirked.

“Ow, that hurts,” he rubbed his left chest as Vhaerla sent a harmless fist at him.

“It’s not funny, Rohan, we almost fucking die,” Vhaerla said. “Die from a strange-looking man that can throw a spear as if it’s a freaking ballista.”

“Wait, you saw who it was?” the identity of the unknown assailant drew his curiosity.

“Just a glance. It sort of look like that merfolk you killed, but more human in a sense,” she explained.

“I guess now we know who we need to kill,” Rohan said.

“What do you mean?” she narrowed her eyes. From what this was leading to it was not a good sign to her.

“Oh, yea. I forget the part where we need to kill the leader of this dungeon to get out of here,” Rohan said.

“You WHAT?!” her fist rose in the air, and yet it hovered at the same spot. Vhaerla restrained her anger as her nostrils flared.

“We’re not going to fight it,” Vhaerla said. Changing her mind after witnessing such ridiculous strength that could even threaten her supremacy in the sky. “We can just fly our way out of here.”

“Well the problem is you can’t,” Rohan had to say it. “This whole place is a separate dimension from our world. So wherever we’re flying, we’re not going to get back home.”

She winced over that fact. It seemed she underestimated the thing that Rohan got her into. Looking at Rohan, she found him quite odd as he was pretty much lax about all of this.

“Did you give up? Or do you have a plan?” she asked.

“It’s a no-brainer actually, all we need to do is level up,” Rohan said the obvious. But for Vhaerla she didn’t get a clue on what it meant to increase one’s level.

Her distrusting gaze prompted Rohan to smile. “Just trust me on this, you’ll know when you get a feel of it,” Rohan said. “But first thing first, we need to hide Mcvey.”

“Why?”

“Those merfolks are scared of him. We can’t really find our enemies if they don’t want to show up,” he said.

“You want me to leave Makvreiss?” she asked with a frown.

“Who said anything about leaving?” Rohan replied. “Just tell Mcvey to patrol high enough in the air so those merfolks won’t see him. So if we’re in a pinch, you can just whistle him down.”

She agreed. In time, the wyvern brought them down close to where they started. The mushy feeling returned underneath Rohan’s boots, but his worries laid elsewhere. He just prayed that the merfolk boss stopped pursuing them.

“Go,” she said to Makvreiss. “I’ll call you when I need you.” They said their farewells and the wyvern took flight, turning smaller as he ascended through the skies.

With only the two of them, Rohan led the pack. They trod carefully through the murky waters, avoiding possible slip to the deep end. In this kind of place, one misstep and you would fall into a dark creek.

“You’ve been to a marshland?” Vhaerla filled the void of silence.

“Never,” he replied. His eyes were on the ground and then at a distance. Caution was his priority.

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“Then why is it you look good at this as if you’ve been here,” she said, curious.

“Books,” he answered. The vaguest of answers could easily annoy people and Vhaerla felt that annoyance.

“I call bullshit . . . If books are that good in teaching, then there should be a hundred thousand knights fully mastered of the Art of Sword,” she replied. The Art of Sword was the commonest book about wielding a sword that you could find literally anywhere. The value behind it was because of the famous author that wrote it, a renowned knight that was the last known wielder of Dawn Bringer, a legendary sword that was forged from a Sun Stone, the author was none other than Arthur Hale.

“Shh,” he shushed Vhaerla as he saw something glimmer in that body of water a few feet away from them. His eyes stared at the calm surface of the bog, hoping to catch that glimmer again.

The short woman responded well and was quick to aim her bow at where ever Rohan was looking. “I see it,” the moment she said those words, her arrow went flying. The tip of the arrow pierced through the surface of the creek, sending ripples on the surface. Yet the arrow didn’t sink into the depth as something else emerged on the surface.

“You killed it,” Rohan said. He was surprised by the floating corpse of dead merfolk with an arrow in between its eyes.

“Hey, the thing you said about level up, I just got it,” Vhaerla said.

Rohan gave a simple description of how the attributes worked and the usage of the available points. She was skeptical at first. But after putting all of her points to strength, she demonstrated her newfound power by lifting a small piece of deadfall with ease.

“This is incredible,” she said. Disbelief in what she could do since throughout her whole life, being this short made her incapable of doing such feat.

On the other, Rohan gave her a sidelong glance as it was a waste of five points. His advice was left unheard. He thought of helping her achieve her highest potential as an archer by min-maxing her stats, but he guessed that kinda went down the drain with Vhaerla yearning of having some meager strength in lifting stuff. It was not like he didn’t understand the sentiment, but it would have been better if she focus on the important stats as an archer.

“We’ve got company,” Rohan said. Leaving those unnecessary displeasures as his eyes found merfolks emerging from underneath the calm surface of the water.

He could sense their anger as he noticed some of the merfolks approaching the dead one. An arrow struck one of them out of the blues as Vhaerla was quick on the assault. Her hands swiftly move from one arrow to another, aiming down sight. Some hit while some missed as these merfolks scrambled on their webbed feet, charging at them on the wetland. Rohan swore he heard their battle cries like numerous bubbles being popped in a row. He thought it was funny as he almost broke into a laugh, but one of the merfolk had reached his range. The glint in his eyes changed, and his estoc pounced. The tip pierced the merfolk right between its ribcage as its momentum made it even easier for the blade to pierce through. Rohan kicked it away and at the same time pulling his estoc out readied for another enemy.

A trident came for his face and his estoc parried it without a hitch. His strength prevailed over the weaker merfolk and soon the tip found its way through the merfolk's black eye.

[You have gained 3 Exp.]

[You have gained 3 Exp.]

Another one sprang into action, sweeping its trident at Rohan’s leg. The young lord leaped, but before he could deliver his counter, an arrow struck it by the temple. The creature went down dead. He glanced at Vhaerla as she finished her side of the enemy quite quickly with her bow and arrow. Yet seeing her pulled another arrow, his eyes found the last remaining merfolk.

“Stop!” he shouted.

“I’m not an idiot, Rohan, I knew well that these exps have something to do in making me being strong,” she was quick in the uptake. But that wasn’t the reason for him stopping her.

“Just let me have this one,” Rohan said. “I’ve something to try out.”

“Fine,” Vhaerla said.

Rohan approached the merfolk as the creature was more or less the same as the goblin in their reaction towards them.

It ran towards them, not caring about the bloodshed around it. The trident in its hand stabbed forward, but the human casually repelled it to the side.

Rohan kicked it down and it fell flat on the wetland. Before it could even stand to fight another second, the sole of a boot pushed it down, chaining it to the ground. It flailed around water splashing. Then a hand grabbed it by its slimy head.

The young lord frowned over the mucus, but he had to try this out. “Mark of Thraldom,” he cast his words then the mark appeared. Contrary to how Giotto reacted, the mark burned the merfolk as it cried out in its popping noises. A few seconds later, it went limp, heavily breathing.

[Silu Merfolk is now Master Rohan Prynne’s slave.]

He let it go and put some distance between them. Rohan wanted to see whether it would attack him even after the branding.

“What kind of devilish trick did you do to it?” Vhaerla approached Rohan’s side after halting her arrow looting.

“Well, now we’re about to find out,” he kept his eyes at the merfolk. Waiting for it to catch its breath. Slowly, the merfolk stood up on its two feet and stared at both Rohan and Vhaerla at the distance. It ran towards them with its bubble-popping battle cry. It seemed the mark didn’t have any effect on changing its behavior. But what came next terrified the young lord.

“Do not attack,” he uttered. Then out of sudden, the merfolk dropped on its knees as it writhed in pain. He noticed the mark on the merfolk’s forehead glowing in subtle orange light as if it was a sign that the merfolk was fighting against Rohan’s command. It lasted well over a minute and he could see the fatigue all over the heaving merfolk.

‘That doesn’t feel right,’ he thought. Right at that moment, he realized how heinous this class was. Inflicting pain with just a command made him feel so evil even towards a monster. What made it worse for him, that this skill of his only worked at humanoids and that realization dawned on him that these merfolks had a mind of their own, unlike beasts that roamed the land through their instincts.

The merfolk didn’t seem like it would stop. It dragged its webbed feet, drawing closer towards Rohan to avenge its slew brethren.

But a voice made it stop. Yet this time it was different, a voice unlike its own rang inside its mind.

‘Please don’t,’ Rohan said through his mind. Connecting his own mind with the merfolk through the aid of his skill Mental-Link. The look of confusion plastered across the fish head. It didn’t understand what was going on.

‘Who is this? Why is your voice inside my head?’ the sound of a normal human echoed back in the Mental-Link. Catching Rohan by surprise as he didn’t think that the skill could even act as an automatic translator.

Taking his steps forward, Rohan said this in his mind. ‘The sound is from me, the human right in front of you . . . I am Rohan Prynne, young lord of Brightfort, it’s a pleasure to meet you’