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The streets of Old Town were dimly illuminated by the warm glow of oil lamps, their flickering light casting long shadows against the uneven cobblestone roads. Young boys darted between posts, long sticks in hand, lighting each lamp with practiced efficiency. Their laughter and hurried footsteps echoed in the night air.
John watched them for a moment, shaking his head. “That job’s gonna disappear the second someone invents electricity.”
Kaia gave him a quizzical look. “Electricity?”
“Yeah,” John said, gesturing as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We figured out how to harness lightning, store it, and use it to power just about everything. Lights, machines, communication. Maybe one day, this place will have TVs.”
Kaia’s brow furrowed. “We have magic, you know.”
“Sure,” John said with a shrug. “But imagine a box that shows moving pictures, lets you hear voices from miles away, or even lets people talk to each other instantly.”
Thorin snorted. “Sounds like sorcery.”
John smirked. “Yeah, well, where I’m from, we replaced magic with science. Give it a few hundred years, and maybe this place will have neon signs and drive-thrus.”
Kaia rolled her eyes. “I think I prefer the lamplighters.”
John looked over at the lamplighters and smiled. "Yeah it's certainly more peaceful"
As they walked, the conversation shifted to the events of the day. The streets were quieter now, with only a few late-night stragglers moving about, their cloaks pulled tight against the evening chill.
John ran a hand through his hair, still processing everything. “Alright, let’s put it all together. We know there’s a thieves’ den somewhere in Old Town.”
Thorin nodded. “And their new leader is not the kind of man you cross.”
“Right,” John agreed. “And he’s got some kind of poison skill book for his top guys. I want that.”
Kaia frowned. “John…”
He held up a hand. “I am a rogue, I should be using poison. Poison’s just another tool and I'm going to need every advantage to win that tournament and go home. You know how many ways you can use it besides killing someone? Disabling, distracting, or just making them really wish they’d made better life choices?”
Kaia sighed. “I suppose.”
John tapped his chin. “But the thing that bothers me the most is that trader—Garrik. The guy who told us about the tournament. He was murdered in a way that wasn’t just a robbery.”
Thorin grunted. “Nothing was taken. But the way he was killed shows some serious strength.”
John exhaled sharply. “Yeah. Either someone really wanted to send a message, or…” He paused. “Or They didn't want Garrik to say anything else again.”
Kaia’s expression darkened. “You think it was because he talked to us?”
“Not ruling it out,” John admitted. “Could be connected to him giving us information about the tournament.”
Thorin cracked his knuckles. “So what’s the plan?”
John grinned. “We test the exploit and get stronger. As it is now we're too weak to deal with any of the mysteries.”
The flickering lamps illuminated their determined faces as they neared the blacksmith’s shop, the night air thick with the scent of cooling metal and burning coal.
Something told John that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.
***
As they step into the blacksmith’s shop, the warm glow of the forge casts flickering shadows across the stone walls. The rhythmic clang of hammer on metal fills the air, blending with the scent of burning coal and oiled steel. John takes in the scene, smirking as he leans toward Kaia and Thorin.
“This looks like the opening to Conan the Barbarian,” he mutters, watching the blacksmith, now covered with soot-streaked arms, continue working.
The smith eventually sets down his tools and approaches the counter, wiping his hands on a thick leather apron. “Back for your weapons, eh?”
John nods. “Yep, hoping to see some fine craftsmanship.”
The blacksmith grins and disappears into the back, returning moments later with their weapons. One by one, he lays them out on the counter. John picks up his knife and inspects it, his eyes widening slightly. The edge gleams under the forge light, keener than it had ever been.
“This is sharper than it’s ever been,” he says, testing the balance in his grip.
The blacksmith folds his arms over his chest, clearly pleased. “That blade was a pleasure to work on. Never seen one quite like it. Gained a level in sharpening just from working on it.”
John chuckles. “Not bad for something that started its life on Amazon.”
The smith frowns. “Amazon?”
Thorin sighs, shaking his head. “Just get used to it.”
***
The trio returns to their inn, the warmth of the tavern offering a welcome respite from the cool evening air. The hum of conversation, clinking mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter create a lively atmosphere. They settle into a table near the hearth, where the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread fills the air.
John glances over the menu before ordering what amounts to fried fish and potatoes. When the plate arrives, he takes a bite and grins. “Well, that settles it. I’ve officially had fish and chips everywhere. Even in alternate universes.”
"My wife says I always order the same things. I just know what I like. "
Kaia rolls her eyes, but Thorin chuckles, digging into his own meal with enthusiasm.
As they eat, John leans forward, his impatience clear. “So, can we finally go fight tomorrow? I need to see if this loophole actually works.”
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Kaia sighs, setting down her fork. “Yes, we can. There are still mysteries to figure out—like who killed that merchant and what’s going on with the thieves’ guild—but getting stronger takes priority. If this exploit works, we’ll be in a much better position to deal with everything.”
Thorin nods. “And we need to get into that dungeon. If we’re going to find the first Seal of Ascension, we need to be ready.”
John grins. “Alright then. Tomorrow, we break the system.”
***
The next morning, Thorin and Kaia step into the inn’s common room to find John already at a table, grinning like a kid on his birthday. In front of him sits a steaming pot of wake-root tea and three plates piled high with what looks like circular flat rolls smothered in a chunky white gravy.
Kaia raises an eyebrow as they take their seats. “You’re up early. And… what exactly is this?”
John leans back, looking immensely pleased with himself. “Couldn’t sleep. Too excited to get to hunting, so I got up early and started talking to the cook. Turns out this world doesn’t have biscuits and gravy. A tragic oversight. So, I made some and taught him how to do it properly.”
Thorin, always the first to try new food, digs in without hesitation. His eyes widen, and he lets out a satisfied grunt. “By the gods, this is amazing.” He shovels another bite into his mouth.
Kaia eyes her plate suspiciously, then takes a cautious bite. Her expression shifts from skepticism to delight. “Okay… this is actually delicious.”
John grins triumphantly as the cook passes by, nodding in approval. “It’s going on the menu,” the man says. “Best thing I’ve tasted in years.”
Kaia barely finishes her last bite before John, who’s been practically vibrating in his seat, bursts out, “Alright, enough eating—let’s go kill some monsters!”
As they push back from the table, John smirks. “If they ever make a movie about this, now’s the time to cue an epic ‘80s song.”
***
As they move through the underbrush, John suddenly halts, raising a hand to signal the others. A lone wolf stands ahead, its hackles raised, teeth bared in a low, menacing growl. It’s tense, poised to strike.
Before the beast can lunge, John pulls out his knife and, without hesitation, slices his own palm. Blood wells up instantly, dripping onto the forest floor. “Do the same,” he orders, glancing at Thorin and Kaia. “This is part of the test.”
Thorin grunts but follows suit, dragging his blade across his palm. Kaia hesitates, frowning, but with a resigned sigh, she does the same.
“Alright,” John says, tightening his grip on his dagger. “Let’s do this.”
The three of them spring into action, closing the distance in a blur. The wolf snarls and lunges, but they’re ready. Thorin slams into it first, knocking it off balance, while John drives his dagger into its side.
Kaia dives out of the way barely missing getting gutted by the deer antlers.
The animal is staggering now and Thorin brings his axe down on the creature finishing it.
As the dust settles, John wipes his blade on his pants and checks his interface. A notification blinks into view:
Defense increased. Dagger skill increased.
He exhales sharply. “Okay… that definitely did something.”
Kaia flexes her fingers. “Yeah, I felt it too. It’s subtle, but there’s definitely some growth.”
Thorin nods. “Not enough to trigger a level, but it’s working.” He cracks his knuckles. “Let’s keep going.”
John grins, already scanning the woods for their next target. “Now we’re talking.”
***
The boar was massive, its thick hide bristling with scars from past battles. Its black eyes gleamed with fury as it pawed the earth, snorting in challenge. John tightened his grip on his dagger, glancing at Kaia and Thorin. They were up to seven attacks now, each battle pushing them further. Time to see if this really was the sweet spot.
“Alright,” John muttered, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s dance.”
With a guttural roar, the boar charged. Thorin stepped forward, planting his feet like a stone wall, his shield raised. The impact was thunderous, the force driving him back several steps, but he held firm.
“NOW!” John barked.
The boar let out an enraged snort, pawing at the ground before charging. Thorin sidestepped at the last second, slashing his blade across its thick hide. The beast barely flinched, its beady eyes filled with fury.
John, grinning, turned to Kaia and Thorin. “Alright, let’s get to work.” Without hesitation, he swung his dagger—not at the boar, but at Thorin’s arm, leaving a shallow cut.
Thorin grunted. “You hit like a damn rabbit.” He retaliated with a heavy punch to John's ribs, making him stumble.
Kaia sighed. “You two are ridiculous,” she said before jabbing her ornate dagger into John’s thigh, just deep enough to sting.
John winced. “Okay, now we’re talking!” He returned the favor with a quick cut to Kaia’s shoulder.
The boar roared, steam rising from its nostrils as it watched the bizarre spectacle unfold. Every time it tried to attack, Thorin stepped in, blocking its path and slashing at its legs to keep it unbalanced. Meanwhile, John and Kaia continued their brutal exchange, each attack met with Kaia’s swift healing magic.
John dodged a swipe from the boar’s tusks, then drove his knife into its side. “Almost there,” he called out, feeling the rush of battle and the growing sensation of strength building within him.
Thorin, laughing, delivered a final heavy blow to John’s gut before turning his focus back to the boar. “Let’s end this.”
With a coordinated strike, the three of them lunged. John’s dagger found the beast’s throat, Thorin’s sword plunged into its side, and Kaia, with surprising ferocity, stabbed her small blade into its eye. The boar let out one last pained squeal before collapsing in a heap.
As silence settled, John’s vision filled with flashing notifications. His grin widened. “Oh yeah… that did something.”
For a brief second, there was only silence. Then, the flood of notifications hit.
Level up!
Defense increased!
Dagger skill increased!
Endurance increased!
Strength increased!
Healing resistance increased!
Combat instincts improved!
John staggered back, staring at the glowing messages. “Oh yeah,” he panted, grinning as he wiped sweat from his brow. “Seven is definitely the sweet spot.”
***
As they trudged back to town, the adrenaline from battle slowly ebbed, leaving only exhaustion and the satisfying weight of progress. John stretched his arms, feeling lighter, faster—different. He opened his status screen and grinned. Level 5. Not bad. Even better, he’d gained Uncanny Dodge—a skill that would let him instinctively evade incoming attacks.
“Nice,” John muttered, flexing his fingers. “Would be real nice to actually know what level we all are, though.”
As if responding to his thoughts, a faint blinking icon caught his eye. He focused on it, and a new tab appeared—Party. Curious, he mentally selected it. Instantly, a list appeared in his vision:
Thorin – Human Fighter – Level 7
Kaia – Human White Mage – Level 6
John’s eyes widened. “Oh, hell yes. I can see your levels!”
Kaia and Thorin both stopped, turning toward him. “What?” Kaia asked.
John read the information aloud, and Thorin stroked his beard. “Huh. So I’m stronger than you,” he said with a teasing smirk.
Kaia frowned slightly. “It’s interesting to know, but without a frame of reference, it doesn’t mean much. We’ve fought six or seven times, so have we just… gotten stronger that many times?”
John scratched his chin. “I don’t know exactly how this world works, but I can make some educated guesses. Typically, in games, every five levels is a milestone. You get something significant—new skills, better stats, maybe even new class features. If that pattern holds, then level 10 should be a big deal.”
Kaia nodded slowly. “So, we should push to reach it before we attempt the dungeon?”
“Exactly.” John grinned. “We work our asses off, hit level 10, stock up on supplies, and then go find this dungeon. Sound like a plan?”
Thorin clapped a hand on John’s back. “Aye. Let’s get to it.”
***
The tavern buzzed with the usual evening crowd, a mixture of locals and travelers sharing stories over tankards of ale. In a dimly lit corner, a man in a dark cloak sat alone, his hood drawn low over his face. His gaze followed John, Thorin, and Kaia as they stood, stretching after their meal, and made their way toward the door. His eyes lingered on John’s brightly patterned Hawaiian shirt, standing out like a beacon in the otherwise muted tones of the tavern.
As the trio exited, a barmaid wandered over, collecting empty plates from the table they’d left behind. The cloaked man leaned forward slightly. “That man dresses… boldly,” he murmured.
The woman chuckled. “Aye, that’s John. He’s new in town, been sticking with Thorin and Kaia. Made quite the impression already.”
The man tilted his head. “Oh?”
She nodded, balancing a tray on her hip. “Saved a boy from some bandits, been clearing out the woods of trouble, and even helped the chef come up with a new dish. Seems like a decent sort.”
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Where’s he from?”
The barmaid pursed her lips. “Not sure. Heard him say he’s from the South, but never mentioned a specific land.”
The man flipped a coin across the table. She caught it easily, flashing a knowing smile, before bustling off to another table.
Standing, the cloaked man strode toward the door, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor. Outside, his massive black steed awaited him, steam curling from its nostrils in the cool night air. He mounted with practiced ease, his expression hidden in shadow.
“Interesting,” he muttered to himself. “He might just be useful.”
With a tug on the reins, he turned his horse and rode out of town, vanishing into the darkness.
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Back in his small room at the inn, John closed the door behind him, letting out a breath. A familiar, creeping sensation settled in his gut—danger.
He scanned the room, checking the window, the closet, even beneath the bed. Nothing seemed amiss, but the feeling remained.
Frowning, he ran a hand through his hair. “Probably just nerves,” he muttered.
Still, he kept his knife within reach as he lay down, forcing himself to relax. Tomorrow was a big day. They had monsters to hunt and levels to gain. Whatever was lurking out there—he’d deal with it when the time came.
Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless.