I flopped down on my bed in Grey’s tower with a groan.

It had been several days now since we had arrived in Hollow Hill, and nothing interesting had been happening. Most of the time, I had been following around Grey as his now official apprentice. During that time, I’d pretty much just been a hanger-on. I didn’t have much to input on meetings about administration, or military management. When I’d pointed that out to Grey, he’d just raised an eyebrow at me and said I had to learn somehow.

Which, yeah. That was fair. I just wasn’t enjoying feeling even more out of my depth.

I should have followed Azarus and Sylvia’s lead and bailed. Azarus had excused himself early on to go keep himself busy in the city forges, which no one had complained about. While Sylvia had just vanished into the wind. I had no idea what she was doing. I’d only seen them over the last few days when we all met up for dinner in the tower.

I’d just gotten out of a meeting where Grey had been briefed on the logistical state of the Uprising. From what I’d gathered? Not very good.

Without the support of the noble families that had their children and heirs kidnapped, the Uprising was having trouble supplying their troops. Food and gear were thin on the ground without the support. Apparently, the Uprising only had a handful of months' worth of operational capacity before they were essentially extinct as a viable combat force.

In other words, ‘will you please get a move on and free those hostages’ had been the undertone of the meeting.

Incidentally, that was likely going to happen tomorrow. Grey had told me privately that the excuse of gathering supplies for the trip was ‘poppycock’. He could have gotten the necessary supplies for our run on the prison in hours, with how desperate the Uprising commanders were. Instead, he’d wanted a few more days for his strength to recover, as apparently, he was nearing a breakthrough in that regard. He’d given me a wink at that, which, you know, I hadn’t understood.

Grey being Grey, I suppose.

Still, we were ready now. I should be going to sleep early for the trip, but…

I just wasn’t tired.

Sitting back up with a groan, I decided to try a little experiment. I’d been putting something off for a while, and with how bored I was, that boredom was outweighing my apprehension. You see, I had a skill that I hadn’t figured out yet.

For freeing Grey from his slave brand, I’d gotten a title from the System. However, what was important about the title, was what it gave me. The general skill Synergy.

I had no idea what it did.

I’d played around with it after our escape from Addersfield and during the trip to Hollow Hill, but had gotten nowhere with it. When I tried to activate it on its own, I received the mental equivalent of an error message. The damn thing just didn’t want to work.

That had pretty much made me decide to put it off until later, and later was now.

I was already a little frustrated from the endless meetings, why not add to that frustration by beating my head against a figurative brick wall?

Let’s give it another try.

Synergy.

There it was again. The ‘error message’ that I essentially received on trying to activate the skill. It was like the skill didn’t have everything that it needed to activate. I gave it a few more tries after that, in different ways. I tried to delay the activation like I could with Hidden Amidist the Spheres. I tried to force more mental energy into the activation. Hell, I even tried to speak the skill out loud.

Nothing.

I fell back down on the bed, frustrated. Ugh, whatever.

Still, I’d thought of something else. Remembering Hidden Amidst the Spheres reminded me of what had happened after killing Magnus.

I still hadn’t said a word about that to anyone.

I shivered, remembering the feeling of Magnus’s fucking skill infiltrating my Status. Raising a hand, I called it up.

Poisonfang Fist.

My hand erupted in green and black smoke, roiling over my fingers. I eyed it with a disgruntled eye.

I’d discovered that this skill was not only a reminder of a person I deeply hated, but it was worthless for me. It was incompatible with my fighting style. I fought with weapons, while this piece of shit didn’t affect them. It only worked on bare hands. Hell, even then, I doubted this skill was better than Scintillant Blade. That at least worked on bladed weapons.

Idly, I tried to call up Synergy again, only to jolt upright. Something had just clicked into place with the skill. At the same time, the visible effect of Poisonfang Fist disappeared, but the skill didn’t completely cancel.

Somehow, both Synergy and Poisonfang Fist were active, but idle at the same time. It was as if they were waiting for something.

Wait.

Was that it?

I think…that Synergy had something to do with skills…

With a surge of adrenaline, I decided to call up another skill. Let’s go with Observe. Just as an experiment, I tried to Observe the flickering candle on my bedside table. For the first time though, Observe failed on me. It was as if the skill was being blocked by something. At the same time though, I felt an almost sense of rejection coming from Synergy. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to call up another skill.

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This time, I decided to go with one of my least used ones, Thorn Shot. I didn’t get much use out of it these days, with how closely I tended to fight things. Either with my spear, or my dagger. I didn’t think Synergy would hurt me in any way, but that was no reason to get reckless. I didn’t want to risk my only other two active skills that I used much more than Thorn Shot. Thorn Cloak and Thorn Grapple were just too valuable.

I gave it a, ah, shot.

Thorn Shot.

Momentarily, a familiar blood-red thorn the size of my palm materialized over my outstretched finger before winking away. At the same time, I felt a sense of acceptance from Synergy.

I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

I felt it as, within my Status, both Poisonfang Fist and Thorn Shot somehow…detached themselves from their position within my soul. Simultaneously, I felt Synergy begin to almost open up and draw both skills into itself. Once both skills had been taken in, I felt it as Synergy truly activated for the first time.

It began to draw in ambient Aether from my surroundings. Just like I’d felt when I drew Poisonfang Fist from Magnus…

The ambient Aether began to concentrate within the skill, growing denser. It was strange though. From what I could feel, it actually wasn’t drawing in that much Aether. After a few minutes of this, whatever it was that Synergy was doing, it finished. With an almost popping noise, the bubble that Synergy had created to hold the two skills dissipated.

Only one thing emerged from the bubble. Slowly, it drifted down into my soul and settled in.

Blinking open my eyes, I emerged from the impromptu trance I’d fallen into, tracing what had just happened.

Huh.

Pulling up my Status, I decided to see if my suspicions were correct about what had just happened.

You have learned the Class Skill, Poisonthorn Shot! You have lost Class Skill, Thorn Shot

You have lost the Class Skill, Poisonfang Fist

Yup.

So that’s what Synergy did. It combined skills…

But…

What could I actually combine? Did it need to involve skills that I stole from other people like I had with Magnus? Did it only work with Class Skills? It seemed like it had rejected Observe when I tried to throw that into the mix.

I tried out my new skill.

Poisonthorn Shot.

Materializing over my palm was a far different thorn that I was used to seeing. Where before the thorn that Thorn Shot made was blood red in color, this one was both red and green. The same shade of green from the smoke that Poisonfang Fist had used. Speaking of smoke, that was still present as well. Black, ethereal smoke idly drifted around the form of the thorn floating over my finger. The shape of the thorn was altered, as well. Where before it had been both long and thick, this one was noticeably thinner, ending in a wicked-looking barb.

Fascinated, I shot the thorn at the wooden paneled wall of my room before I realized what I was doing. Only when the thorn was in mid-flight trailing smoke did I remember how destructive Poisonfang Fist had been. Not only that, but I was being lent this room by Grey…

I watched as the thorn embedded itself into the wood and immediately start to eat through it. In fact, the ‘poison’ of the thorn began to rapidly eat through all of the wood surrounding it. Hurriedly, I raced over to the wall and yanked the thorn out of the wall before it could eat through the stone of the tower beneath. Holding the thorn in my bare hand, unconcerned about my own skill, I watched as the wood of the wall rotted away from the impact spot.

When the sizzling of the poison was finished, there was a hole the size of my torso in the wooden paneling. Leaning closer to the hole and waving off the fumes, I saw that the poison had actually touched the stonework beneath. There was a portion of the stone that looked as if it had been scoured by acid.

Glancing down at the thorn in my hand, I watched as it dissipated.

Huh.

You know, I could use that.

But, uh. I had to do something about this hole, first.

……………………………………..

I had just finished moving a nearby bookcase over the hole in the wall when I was startled by a knock on my door. Jumping, I hit my head on the top shelf of the bookcase with a curse. Clutching my head, I turned around just in time to watch as Azarus opened my door and poked his through.

“Oi, Nate. Ya wanna-” He paused, catching sight of me clutching my head in front of the bookcase. “The hells are ya doing’?”

“Oh, uh, nothing,” I said, lowering my head and plastering a smile on my face. “Just…looking at the…books?”

Judging by the flat stare I received from Azarus, he didn’t really believe me. He snorted. “Whatever. Like I was saying, do ya wanna come with me to the tavern? I don’t know about you, but I’m feelin’ restless. I’m thinking some ale will calm me nerves. Maybe get some food, too.”

“Uh, sure,” I said to him. “That sounds good, actually. I couldn’t sleep either. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

Azarus grunted in assent before moving to close the door. He paused though, taking a test sniff of the air and scrunching up his large dwarven nose. He gave me a strange look, before shaking his head. He left after that.

Taking a sniff myself, I scrunched up my own nose.

It smelled like I had been smoking something…recreational in here.

Oh, whatever.

I got dressed in my own clothes for once, and not the clothes I’d been given by Sylvia. When I was done, I left my room.

……………………………………..

Several hours later, I was drunk. In fact, I was so drunk that I was having a fucking great time. Turns out, this tavern had a bard on hand, and the locals had been teaching me and Azarus some of the local songs.

“-b on the end!” I bellowed along with the locals to the sound of the bard's lyre. Me and about four other guys were standing next to each other in a line, our arms thrown over each other’s shoulders and singing at the top of our lungs. I was on one end of the line, while Azarus was on the other. You’d think being a dwarf he couldn’t reach our shoulders, but Azarus was tall for a dwarf. He was getting along just fine, and might be singing the loudest of us. Hell, Azarus was enjoying himself more than I’d ever seen him, ruddy-faced and wild-eyed.

As our group finished our latest song, the rest of the tavern burst into cheers and whoops. Laughing, our entire line bowed with our hands still over each other's shoulders before breaking apart. Our entire group retreated back to a table, where more ale and our likely cold food awaited us.

When we reached the table, Azarus picked up his mug and slammed the entire thing back in one draw. “MORE!” He bellowed, waving his empty mug to catch the barmaid's attention. As for myself, I picked up my dinner, some kind of local meat on a stick. It was good, so I didn’t care that I had no idea what animal it was from. One of our new local friends clapped me on my back as I was chewing, nearly causing me to choke if not for a swig of ale.

The local, a guy named Rudy, laughed at me. “Careful now!” He said, ignoring that it was him that nearly caused me to choke. “Wouldn’t want ye to cark it afore yer big day!”

His words caused another of the locals to laugh drunkenly, this time a guy named Finnick. He picked up his own mug and downed it as well, leaning back on the bench. In fact, he leaned so far back that he fell off and hit the ground. Leaning over the table, I saw that Finnick was out cold, snoring. I laughed drunkenly at him, along with the rest of the table.

The man’s brother, a man that went by Eirick, stood up on wobbly legs. “I’m thinkin’ that’s that, lads.” He slurred. “I gotta get this ‘ere fool back to his missus or she’ll have me ‘ead.” Eirick picked up his brother easily and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman carry. I retained just barely enough piece of mind to wonder if they called it that here, before shaking it off.

Leaning over and catching the attention of the last guy at our table, a local simply called CJ, I grinned at him. “Now, what’s this you were telling me about a mysterious door under the hill?”