The skirmishes and use of skills had died down to almost nothing as everyone settled in for an actual, normal endurance run.

“I shall return to my new-pod before they start slinging barbed questions as to my whereabouts and integrity.” Hrisps voice brought Isaac out of his pondering fugue. He was holding a contestant chip. “Don’t lose it again.”

“Crap — thanks a lot.”

That was all way too close. But now I know where he stands, I guess. He’s on my side, he just really doesn’t want to do his job.

“In the meantime,” Hrisp said, “change your shirt or something. The others still have a hard time telling humans apart just by their faces.”

He waved the merfolk goodbye as he merged into the middle of the throng like a fish back into its school. He appreciated how Hrisp and Andri both took things at face value. They didn’t worry, or if they did, they didn’t get themselves stuck into twisted knots. If he could have taken that focus and beamed it directly into his brain, he would have.

Seeing how he hadn’t spontaneously manifested telepathy, he chose to hunker down, and focused on the line between him and the finish line.

“Just gotta get to the end.”

But the first test didn’t stop at fifteen kilometers, nor by twenty. They ran on even ground, then on stony ground, slippery ground, and ground pockmarked with holes and roots designed to twist and break ankles. People dropped like flies. By kilometer twenty-five there was nobody left with a familiar they couldn’t carry. By kilometer forty, the pain in Isaac’s chest was becoming too loud to ignore.

Probably cracked a rib.

Andrew as also wheezing, though more due to exertion than injury.

<>

Isaac grunted an agreement, or nodded, or something. His mind was focused on the path, and the pain in his shoulder. Moving it helped keep it from getting too stiff, but it was like a hundred pins were poking him again and again.

<>

“I’m ok,” Isaac answered. At his gesture, he splashed the mink with the last of their water. “A break wouldn’t be bad.”

They both looked over their shoulders. The painted wooden frame of O-Bee was awfully close. They were falling behind.

“How long—” Isaac asked, swallowing a mouthful of dry spit, “How long d’you think we have left?”

If there was an answer, Isaac overheard it. The clop-clop of a certain one-horned goatman was fast approaching from the right.

Baphomet jogged past as if he was running on trampolines, his winning smile only slightly undercut by matted hair. “I can answer that, for a price.”

“I’m broke,” Isaac coughed.

“Oh. Well mister catman, want some water?” It was evil how he took that moment to liberally drench himself in one of his few remaining bottles. “It feels so good. Only seven hundred gups a bottle.”

If looks could kill, Andri would have been convicted of murder.

“He’s also broke,” Isaac said.

Baphomet shrugged. “Oh well, time to get rid of these then.”

With a tug of a holster, his backpack fell off, bottles and other knicknacks rolling all over the place. There was a strangled cry behind them as whoever was close enough and still had energy to spend entered into a frenzied scramble. Skills began flying again. Somewhere in the back, something exploded.

“You’re not escaping the demon-allegations like that,” Isaac huffed.

“Doesn’t matter to me. Time to see if I can win this and buy something expensive with those points. Do you have any idea how much an adventurer-crafted healing potion goes for? Ciao~.”

And with that, he took off at what was nearly a sprint.

“Braggart.”

<>

“Gup-rat.” He swallowed a lungful of air. “He’s actually been quite helpful.”

Andri grumbled something unintelligible.

<>

One good thing did come of this. If he was putting in this much effort, they had to be close to the end. And indeed, at the very end of the tunnel artificial light made way for the night’s darkness. It engulfed them all, and all of a sudden they were outside in a valley, thick mud squelching under their feet, and eyes adjusting for the starry night sky.

It was a bright night. The moons of Wett were all waxing, neatly clustered together to bathe everything in grayish-blue tones.

“Watch out,” O-Bee called, “it’s monsoon season.”

Indeed, they had barely run a few hundred meters when a squall of water washed through the valley, soaking them to the bone before disappearing as quick as it had come. Isaac shivered as wind whipped the palms and kudzu-overgrown fronds into a frenzied rustling match.

Andri was huffing and puffing so loud Isaac half expected him to fall over right then and there.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

Two shining eyes met his, before turning back to the front.

<>

<>

<>

“Oh thank Maerdon,” Isaac said. Then he remembered how far mink could see in the dark, which meant they were still a ways away. For a brief second, one of Isaac’s legs gave out, and he felt the cold bite deeper than it should.

I’ve lost blood. Not just a little either.

But even if his arm burnt like fire and his chest felt like every breath was tearing a wound a little bit wider open, it was just half a kilometer more. He could do it. Zach had certainly felt worse.

Then came the cackle of O-Bee, wooden mouthpiece chattering away. “And for the last stretch of the adventurer-special marathon, I present: The 800 meter freestyle swimming pool sprint!”

Isaac’s face fell and he slowed down as he approached the ginormous swimming pool someone had plonked straight in the middle of the jungle. The silvery sheen reflecting off the muddy water stretched for so long and just looking at it dredged up enough terror to paralyze.

He couldn’t see the bottom, the water was dirty, how deep was it, how far again, 800? Pretty far, probably deep, they likely had an earthshaper shovel it out a few days before the exam. There weren’t any monsters in it, they couldn’t survive on mud and water, but even then he couldn’t move because it was so dark.

And dark water was really not good.

“I can’t swim,” Isaac muttered.

<>

“I… I never learned it. I can’t.”

Andri huffed.

“Just go without me. It’s…” This is as far as I go, I guess.

Isaac stopped, listening to the roar of whoops and barks of joy as everyone not blessed with sweat glands leapt into the murky depths, some even going into a full on sprint before cannonballing inside. Andri hesitated for a moment, then backed up.

<>

“Ok. Then go—”

A strong impact on his back sent him reeling forward. He plunged into the water with an unmanly scream and a splash, and then it was all around him, that dirty, all-encompassing water.

Now that he was inside it, the terror became muted like all the sound, and all that left him was the intimate knowledge that he was sinking.

I’m going to die.

Then he hit the pool’s floor. It wasn’t that deep, maybe twice as much as he was tall. Now if he could just push himself off the ground far enough…

The surface rushed past him and Isaac took a heavy gulp of air. With it came a healthy helping of mudwater, and Isaac coughed and sputtered as he flailed for his life and looked around for any sign of solid land. Andri was nowhere to be seen. Sophia was way ahead. Isaac sank, and this time he wasn’t sure if it was worth coming back up again.

I should just let the examiners sort me out. Sophia is far enough ahead. She’ll make it halfway for sure, and me… I’ll sign some delver contract and work ten years diving mud-goblin rifts.

Suddenly, a large, grasping maw came from the dark, and all of Isaac’s plans and worries seemed very silly. It grabbed him by the hip, clamping around his softest bits as it yanked him out of the water and…

A wash of warm air snorted over him. Isaac opened an eye. He was face to face with a minotaur. The grasping maw was his large furred hand.

My heart.

He inspected Isaac with an appraising gaze.

“I am Tom. Tom is a warrior. You are a warrior too, so I’ve seen. You are too good to sink.” He draped Isaac over his back, where a chest that must have weighed a hundred kilos was strapped down tight. The harsh wood was so much more comfortable than the cold, murky water. It was warm too. Did he have some sort of hot rocks in there?

“I’m not a good warrior…”

The minotaur snorted, plowing through the water with concentrated ease. “You helped the little man, and the dog. Tom likes dogs.”

“I mostly did it because I’m an idiot.” Isaac watched as Tom did large, measured breast strokes. They overtook Andri, who, after doing a double take, let out a frustrated growl and tried to speed past them.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The catman likes water more than you — yep, that’s as embarrassing as it should be. Ow.

But he was safe. From Tom’s back, Isaac got to watch as a variety of people succeeded and struggled with swimming the last stretch.

It was such a moonlit night. Pretty much everyone he could see had stripped out of their metal armor. Dozens of soaked gambesons were floating in the water, or sitting at the banks. Everything that could weigh someone down was discarded. He looked on as someone tossed a rather expensively engraved metal helmet away, letting it sink to the floor.

I’m not this full of schadenfreude, usually.

He was probably just pissed because of the poison, and the wolf. And Andri, though what he was feeling there was considerably more complicated. Betrayal, yes, but he hadn’t told Andri how he handled water. Thankfulness, also, though the catman could have never predicted this outcome. Maybe he didn’t believe that an islander and son of a merfolk couldn’t swim. Maybe he just wanted to win so hard that he would have drowned Isaac in a bucket if it came down to it.

Either way, the pool had evened the playing field. The examiner’s could have probably forbidden all kinds of gear beforehand, but the lesson that whatever you brought with you wasn’t going to help felt a lot more personal when you had to discard all the gear you had dragged all the way here.

He leaned back, sprawling over Tom’s assorted gear. He was carrying easily as much as Isaac weighed and then some, and still he had the energy to help someone else. Baphomet hadn’t mentioned him specifically, but Isaac was certain that if anyone deserved to win at this point, it was Tom. Did he run the entire forty-plus kilometer distance with this on his back?

“Nice chest.”

“Tom eat beans, works out.”

“I meant the… chest.”

“She is good chest. Friendly. Very buoyant.”

Isaac swore he heard the chest giggle, but he was too tired to do anything space out.

Andri finally passed them, taking to the water like a tiger rather than a housecat. A few other people did as well. The long-knight came and went by, swimming full tilt in a front crawl, notably still wearing her full plate, while a smaller night laughed every time she jumped out of the water like a torpedo. If they could wear that much gear and still swim, they probably deserved to keep it.

And there’s the finish line.

They arrived somewhere in the bottom ten. Andri was on the shore, hacking his lungs out, and looking like a wet mop that had been stuck in a washing machine on 120 RPM.

<> He texted with a weak growl.

“And I hate water probably just as much.” Isaac sighed. “Thanks. But please never do that again.”

The catman gave him a side-eye. Lying in the mud didn’t look to comfy, but he was clearly more than a bit tuckered out.

“Tom? You saved my ass. Is there any way I can repay you.”

“Hmm.” The minotaur opened his backpack and took out the largest book Isaac had ever seen. After leafing through a few pages, he came to a conclusion. “No. It is a warrior’s duty to pick up his fellows.”

“Tom. I mean it. I’d have flunked out without you. I want to pay you back.”

“Is not a problem,” Tom said, waving him off as he thunked the chest on the ground. “If you help me in another test, then you do you. If not, then it is no hair off my back.”

“That’s… probably the best I’ll get. Thanks again. Look, they’re announcing the winners of this exam.” He nodded over to where the fluffy-haired woman was standing on a discarded crate. “Probably not going to be either of us.”

“...First place,” her voice echoed through a microphone. “Vivienne Van de Von, thirty extra points…”

“That’s a lot of points.” Isaac swallowed. “Hey, do you know how much ten points are worth?”

Tom shook his head as he opened a can of beans and gobbled them whole just like that. “It is the first time for me. I am a farmer, and I wish to be a warrior.”

“...second place, Baphomet Mahadi, twenty extra points…”

“I’m Isaac. I’m an orphan.”

Tom furrowed his brows. “That is a weird profession.”

I dunno man, you’re the one lugging around a giant mahogany chest, Isaac thought as he listened to the announcement and just let the fatigue wash out of him.

“...third place, Sophia Wist, ten extra points. In addition, making it to the finish line nets everyone ten points. Make them count. Our kiosks are open in between tests only.”

Isaac blinked, then let out a laugh.

Everyone was so busy murking each other, they didn’t have the time or thought it worth the investment to dunk on a skill-less Tier 1. Sophia was unassuming and not exactly slow. Isaac overtook her on their ten kilometer runs because he had longer legs and more muscle, but when it came to endurance, she had a lot less weight to carry around. People must have overlooked her, or seen her and rightfully assumed that she was not a threat to them, or to anybody.

Such a good boon and bane combo.

If there was such a thing as collective sibling pride, Isaac was feeling all of it, and he was happier for it. Andri approached, shaking the wetness from his fur. Sophia came right after. She looked so mad.

“That stupid goat overtook me while running backwards!”

+++

People crashed hard after the first test. Few of them cared that they were sitting down on mud. Even the ones with fancy under-armor looked at the dirt caking just about everyone and everything, before gingerly lowering themselves down on a grassy spot. The light drizzle of rain that came down the eastern hillside was almost welcome.

Isaac was having a hard time ignoring the pain in his arm and chest. A wound like on his arm had to be disinfected and likely stitched unless he wanted it to fester. His cracked rib would take a few weeks to months to heal, and that was even with his Tier 2 body.

If they’d hit Sophia with that, she could have died.

The examiners would have jumped in to prevent it, but still. It was a sobering thought, and it made her third place all the more impressive. If only he loved anything as much as she loved running, maybe he could have focused on that, perfected it, and added it to his lacking number of strengths.

All he did was get in peoples way and get hurt as a reward, which was about fifty percent of the Interraptor’s purpose. He chuckled to himself. It was such a stupid build idea.

A shadow fell over his face.

“Yo Isaac,” Sophia said, poking his face with her boot. “Look at me. I’m bling as fuck.”

Isaac peeked out from under his arm. She was right, with the extra points she’d gotten, Sophia had bought herself a snazzy looking diamond-shaped chestplate, a helmet, and boots.

“Are those all enchanted?”

“Only the boots. The helmet has extra padding to protect against concussions, the chestplate weighs practically nothing, and the boots can leave a trail so we’ll never get lost no matter where we go.” Even someone as disinclined to delving as Sophia could only grin in the face of big loot. “And guess what: we get to keep this stuff after the exam’s over.

Now that was some great news. “Looks good on you.”

“‘Course it does. Now get up and get some gear for yourself. Or are you in one of your mopy phases again?”

“I’m not mopy,” Isaac sighed. “I did something stupid again. I didn’t even swim the last part of the test. I deserve to feel pain.”

Sophia promptly kicked him in his tingly arm, eliciting a deep groan. “If you can be that dramatic, you can go get yourself some first aid. Come on, the kiosks are about to close. They’re selling healing potions and other magic stuff at killer prices.”

Isaac didn’t move for another minute. But eventually, the desire to not be even more of a burden than he already was overtook whatever ennui had wormed itself into his mind. He approached the kiosk, and was seconds away from just ordering all the healing potions and sandwiches they had when he stopped to stare at the person sitting behind the register.

“Torwig?”

“Nope.” The awfully Torwig-looking person gave him an unimpressive stare. “T-series, model number H231455/G. Call me Hartwig if you have to. Now, you buying?”

“I, but…” He looked the spitting image of the old man from Seagull island, down to the way he stared at you as if visiting his establishment was somehow an annoyance instead of a blessing.

“I need…” Isaac needed a lot. “How much does a chest piece cost?”

“Ten points. We’re all sold out though. For eight points, I can get you vambraces and greaves, both made from Tier 2 Gintaxian biters, light and sturdy.”

“That cheap?” he could buy himself an entire set of items, if there wasn’t the small issue of his injuries.

“It’s apprentice-ware, too shit to sell on the Numa, and the enchantments wear down over time. You sound like shit too, by the by. Hurt your lungs?”

“Ribs.” Isaac cleared his lungs. “Only cracked though.”

“‘Only’,” Hartwig said with a dismissive snort, turning around in his two by two meter wooden kiosk before placing three tiny bottles on the counter. “Gum-rubber paste will close that wound and disinfect it. A marrow pill will speed up your blood cell production. And Boneturn(TM) will twist that rib into place and seal it for now. I am legally obligated to inform you that Boneturn(TM) is not a substitute for magical healing, and that you should seek a licensed magician’s counsel after every use.”

“Oh.” Isaac didn’t know that there were so many different little pills and tinctures for specific wounds out there. “How much for the three?”

“One point each.” He grabbed Isaac’s hand as he went to grab it. “Let me be absolutely clear: This doesn’t fix your medical problems, it softens their impact on your performance. You won’t feel your rib, and you won’t continue bleeding all over the place. But you will need to heal eventually, naturally, or through some magical means if you’re not past your healing cap. You’re still growing, so ease up on the healing magic unless you want to stunt yourself.”

“Oh.” Isaac paused. “How much for a healing potion?”

“They never listen.” Hartwig let out a puff of air from his nostrils. “A healing potion costs five points. You only need to spend three to patch yourself up. I was making you an offer.”

That seemed… awfully sensible. Maybe all Torwig look-alikes were as passive aggressive as they were helpful. Maybe it ran in the blood, er, in the series.

Something to ponder later.

“I’ll take the three bottles, the greaves, vambraces, and a potion as well.” He looked around as Hartwig popped the gear as well as a potion on the counter. Did he just have a mini fridge filled to the brim under there? Actually, there was no space, where did he keep all his inventory?

Someone behind Isaac cleared their throat. He was taking too much time.

So eight plus three plus five, minus that off from twenty gives…

“Anything useful I can buy with four points?”

“We sell emotional support plushies of famous adventurers.”

“Huh.” Those plushies did look very soft and squishable. Probably collectors items. But Isaac’s gaze roamed about, falling on something that was gathering dust far in the back. “Is that a rock sling?”

“This is a self-tightening bola.” Hartwig put a cross of rope on the table, each end ending in a round weight. “You push a sliver of mana here. That is a signal for the bola’s rope to expand. You throw it at someone to wrap around, then the mana lingers for five seconds, then the rope contracts again. Useful if you want to bind someone up at range.”

“Is that rope Tier 2?”

“It’s strong enough to stop Tier 2 rift monsters, and slow down a Tier 3. You gotta know how to throw it though.” he stared at Isaac. “You don’t seem to me like the kind who knows how to—”

“I’ll buy it.”

He forked over two more plastic chips, leaving him with two points leftover for after the next test.

Aren’t I being optimistic there, thinking I’ll make it that far.

If he were judging it by the first test, the second one was going to be just as hard, if not moreso.

He didn’t have to wait long to confirm his fears. As people milled about, a silence fell over the impromptu camp of adventurer-wannabes. A familiar old lady walked up to the improvised crate-podium and cleared her voice straight into the microphone.

“Hello dearies. Welcome to the adventurer exam’s second test. I see many people here, but the first test seems to have done its work. An adventurer must always know how to adapt to situations that bring them to the brink of their ability. Every skill has its place somewhere. Whether you win or lose, work together or alone, I’m sure you will all make excellent, educated people in the future.”

Her words made everyone straighten up. Isaac felt it as well, as something touched him and the smallest inkling of his fatigue and muscle pains disappeared.

“My predecessors likely haven’t emphasized it enough, but I do think it’s amazing that you have all made it so far. For people of your caliber, the next one is going to be a trifling, I’m sure of it. You must all be so very hungry, right? Well, you have until sundown to catch some dinner. I am thinking… yes, today we will be eating the invasive Pachycephalolepus.”

She looked into the assembled people and by her look of disappointment, she must have seen way too many blank faces.

“Those critters are everywhere ever since someone decided to breed them for the pet market. You’ll find that most planets have lost a large portion of their natural fauna and flora due to such invasive species. We as adventurers don’t exist purely for hunting criminals and putting out wildfires. We make sure that the systems on the planets of our empire work, removing wrenches and unwanted elements like a gardener snipping away at roses. Biodiversity creates a robust ecosystem, and prevents tragedies such as the Orlean Plague, The Fall of Ankhor, or Flying Cow Disease, as you all have no doubt read in your history books.”

Isaac nodded along. He had absolutely read about those. Maybe. At least one.

“Catch one such critter. You are required to move out in groups of four at minimum, and be finished by noon. The jungles of wet are still yet untamed and dangerous, that is, to you. I seem to have rambled quite a bit. I am Madame Alis, and the second exam starts now. Remember dearies, catch them alive as they spoil very quickly. And one last thing: Watch out for spider palms. With that, I bid you adieu, and good hunting.”