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There was no time to waste. The small fleet we left behind would continue to sail towards the island and it was imperative that we gain the intel necessary for the decision, to turn back or not. As such, there was no touching farewell or hugs. Just grim nods of acknowledgement and a simple hand-wave to the backup party on the other ship. Instead of the voice of our party members, we consoled ourselves with the clanging metal of armor and weapons, blades hissing into their sheaths.

Then we set off into the Island, leaving the boat behind.

My initial thought was that the island was barren, but that wasn’t so. It was teeming with life, I just wasn’t used to the type of life that inhabited this place. Rightfully so, the trees were twisted and warped, their color like black ash and their strange white flowers smelling of sulfur. The whole island was covered in a combination of a glossy black rock that resembled glass, and what looked like ash packed together.

There was lava everywhere and I saw Borealis and Zenom –the one’s with metallic armor– struggling, sweat beading their brows and dripping from their necks. Everywhere I looked, the island’s glass-rocks reflected the red glow of the lava, making everything emanate with an angry otherworldly glow. It wasn’t the best outlook we had, hell, the steam curled and made everything into a hazy fog.

“If it wasn’t for all the lava, it’d be pretty.” Delas sniffed. “Almost.”

All of us ignored the rogue’s comment. There was no time to banter, we had to keep our eyes peeled and ready for action. We walked for hours –the island was bigger than Zenom had indicated. We could walk for over a day and not reach the other side.

No one spoke and no one gave orders. Zenom just looked around, his mind dazed from the heat that dissipated within his templar helmet. It wasn’t just the heat either, the fact that we were in an unknown place with unknown monsters that could jump out at us at unknown times; everything was mounting up and I could feel the pressure mounting up to a breaking point.

The stress reached a peaking point for Borealis first.

“I’ve seen that tree before.” Borealis said, pointing to a tree.

As one, all of us looked at it. It was gnarled and ashen. Same as every other tree.

“Cuckoo~” Delas quipped.

“Silence, Delas.” Zenom snapped.

Delas frowned. “What was that?” In an instant, the bald rogue’s expression turned from nonchalant to an ugly scowl. He stalked towards the Holy Knight, the contract between them emphasized by the long red glowing lines and shadow cast about the whole place.

I looked at the sky. It was nearly black with flakes of ash falling down.

At the same time, Borealis marched over to where Arione was. More precisely, he headed towards Arrosh, the Pathfinder of this party. The blind orc had ditched the hooded garb, though he kept the cloak. Now, everyone could see his milky eyes and the wisps of hair that remained. Then there was the fact that Arrosh wasn’t the typical orc, he was neither muscled nor tall. He had the build of a thin youth.

Borealis grabbed Arrosh by the edge of his cloak, pulling the orc in close. I saw the the lava reflected in the man’s eyes –an ugly hateful scarlet strain in his pupils. He snarled in front of the orc swordsman’s face. “Are you truly a pathfinder? I found you suspicious the moment you showed up with Arione. How do I know you’re not a fraud just like the elf over there?”

Arrosh didn’t respond and it took me a moment to see why.

The tip of a wickedly curved dagger rested on Boreals’ throat.

“Let me go, young human. For I keep the tempest at bay, but once released; the headwind will have no rest.” He said calmly.

The dagger gave Borealis pause but the Scion snarled pressing his neck in towards the dagger. For a breathtaking second, the dagger pressed in towards the Shielder’s neck, threatening to pierce skin –but it held. There was no blood and Borealis’ throat was intact.

“Whipping out a blade at the sign of first trouble?” Borealis snarled. “Tell me the truth, orc-scum. Are you truly a Pathfinder? If you are, are you truly of a grade high enough to be on this with us?”

“Calm, Borealis.” Zenom muttered but even he was glaring at Arrosh.

“Oy, I’m not done with you, pretty boy.” Delas grabbed Zenom’s shoulder-plate from behind.

Zenom whirled in furious motion, grabbing the Rogue’s wrist and twisting from his ankles, knees, hips and his back. In an impressive display of speed, the large man threw Delas over his back and into an outcropping rock which was glowing red. Delas spun in the air neatly, regaining his balance and bounced off of the boulder. He snarled and flicked his wrists, bringing out curved daggers that pointed towards the opponent instead of inwards.

The rogue spun them, their edges gleaming with bloodlust.

Meanwhile, the conflict between Borealis and Arrosh had spread to Arione as well. The Grade-2 Mage was subtly gathering mana, and by subtly I meant that the wind had picked up noticeably. Scalding ash began to gather around his feet, a whirlwind of white-blue streaks of mana tainted by rivulets of lava that steamed. Borealis said something which was drowned out by a loud ringing sound in my own ears, Arrosh giving a calm retort.

Gods, what was that ringing sound?

I hadn’t noticed but it had been building up.

Zenom drew his bastard sword and it lit up with bright light. He hefted it with one hand, pointing it towards Delas.

The ringing was so loud that it was almost painful now.

Borealis drew his shield and ran towards Arione but Arrosh lunged up, holding onto the edge of the shield and freaking drop kicked the Scion. Borealis stumbled backwards but resumed his charge, his face drawn out in a battle cry. I couldn’t hear it though –when I touched my ears, my hands came away slick with blood.

This whole expedition would end in failure. Not even a full day had passed and already, these adventurers were bickering like pitiful children. Zenom should have listened to me. A seasoned group of adventurers would have a sense of trust that they could fall back on in times like this. The fear of the unknown would be lessened by having comrades around you, whom had been with you in situations exactly like this. The man only knew how to complete missions, not free-form expeditions like this one.

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Then there was Borealis and Delas. Why the hell did they have to be so aggressive? They could have just talked it out but resorted to violence. Stupid Arione, just standing there and not saying anything. Also Arrosh didn’t have to draw his blade. If he just had the sense to tell us-

…What the hell was I doing, blaming other people? Blaming Arrosh of all people?

Oh God.

As soon as I realized it, I saw the condition of my own mind. I was not just being emotional, but irrational and any minor inconvenience became someone’s fault. That annoyance fed on itself turning into full-blown anger and rage. But that wasn’t natural, it should take more than a few hours for someone to turn into that.

We were in a Special Field. In fact, this whole island was a special field.

｢You have entered Special Field: Quick to Anger! ｣

｢Field Effect: Quick to Anger! Is now active ｣

｢Field Effect - Quick to Anger!: [Anger] increased by 50% ｣

｢Field Effect - Quick to Anger!: Characters are more likely to be aggressive & belligerent! ｣

｢Field Effect - Quick to Anger!: All [Fire] and [Lightning] based abilities and skills have 30% increase to damage! ｣

｢Field Effect - Quick to Anger: +50% to all Monster [Attack] ｣

I had been so focused on the lava that I had completely forgotten about the [Mental] stat. Of course, I had been approaching this from a purely physical perspective, looking for monsters that might be hiding or where there might be bursts of lava from the ground. But MSS wasn’t that one-dimensional, it was directly affecting our psyche.

There was another pull of anger, for me to blame myself and start slamming my fists on the floor.

I moved before it could grab ahold of me.

“Stop! All of you!” I yelled out but it was too late, the adventurers were starting to fight for real.

I had to stop them, if no one else, I had to stop Arione. A grade-2 mage letting loose here could get everyone killed. Hell, it might level half the island if it weren’t careful. Even with my immunity to magic damage from [All Mages must Die!], there were many other ways to kill me. Suffocation, being buried alive from debris, etc.

I flickered into motion, drawing the Lunar Shield.

“Arione! Over here!” I cried out, drawing the Mage’s attention.

Normally, it would be suicide. But this island was full of shadows.

Arione’s pale-green-blue eyes were rabid with unseemly rage and with a casual combination of hand seals, sent a blast of fire flying straight at me.

I took the blast of superheated air head on. When things get hot enough, all sorts of things happen and not all of them are just burns. There was a clap of thunder as the heat spiked to a peak and packed all the air into a dense wall –a shockwave. I dug into my heels as the shockwave threatened to throw me back, while an instant later I was engulfed in a raging inferno of fiery fury.

My boots became clad in shadowy tendrils and I dipped inside my own shadow, appearing behind Arione.

I grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. Hard. At this point in the game, Mages were nothing to me. Especially in a situation where speed was all that mattered. Now, give Arione some time to prepare with the clarity of mind and he might have a chance, but with the Named Shadow Wolf’s Core beating inside my soul; it wasn’t farfetched to call me a specialized Anti-Mage Knight.

Arione choked. Typical of the fragile mage’s body and tried to move his hands into seals. There was a second where I thought about squeezing the life out of him, but it would only be temporary. Who knows how many artifacts and relics the Grade-2 Mage put on his body, even if he was affected by the Special Field, it wouldn’t be easy to kill him. Mages were the ones who knew best about their own body after all.

Besides, we still needed him. Atleast, according to Clover.

Still, this was a chance to make the mage suffer.

I used Arione’s body like a cover, heading towards Borealis and Arrosh. The two had drawn their blades –the elderly orc with the cane-sword and Borealis his gladius, matched in a sparring match. Neither of them had used a particularly flashy Core ability yet and I came in the middle just in time.

Borealis gladius whistled as if threatened to create a new hole in my lungs but I brought Arione to the front like the shield. The elven mage yelped and created a translucent shield made of blue –a Mana Shield. The gladius bounced off of it and Borealis doubled down, leaping over the shield and attempting to stab through the slender mage.

I threw Arione to the side –conveniently towards Arrosh– and saw Borealis’ surprised expression as I stabbed upwards with my own sword.

Thankfully, my sword was still sheathed. Because if it weren’t I wouldn’t have just slammed it into Borealis’ balls, but created a clear dissection between the two.

The shielder’s face turned red as he fell to the floor, foaming at the mouth. I don’t care how good of a shielder you are, if you’re a guy, that move should work every time. Too bad it didn’t exist in the game.

Subconsciously naming the skill [Egg Breaker], I backpedaled and spun to find Arrosh raining blow after blow on the panicked Elf’s shield. I saw the beginning of black lightning flicker over Arrosh’s sword and moved decisively, sneaking up behind him kicking his ankles out from beneath him. But the orc reacted with the reflex of a cockroach-rodent, using the falling momentum to try and cut my wrist clean off.

Grabbing Borealis, I threw the shielder to Arrosh and used the distraction to pin him [Ryker’s Manacles] from my Dimension Ring.

Then I spinning in one neat movement, I threw the Lunar Shield, infusing it with Aura

It sailed smackdab in between Delas and Zenom, halting their battle for the faintest of an instant.

It was enough.

“I said stop! All of you!” My voice cracked like a whip and sounded especially loud in the ensuing silence.

Zenom’s sword had been radiating with white-yellow light and he turned to me, the full might of a Holy Knight brought to bear. “You dare use your Heretic Aura against me? A Holy Knight of the Church? Ordained by the-”

I quickly stepped forward until our faces were only inches apart.

“Shut your mouth, Zenom, and control yourself.” I muttered, staring straight into his eyes. “Because right now, this whole situation is your fault.”

“Or is the so-called Discipline of the Holy Knights nothing but words?” In the game, the Holy Knight had been praised for their self-control and discipline. It wasn’t empty praise, they had a whole wardrobe of self-buffs for the [Mental] stat.

The taunt worked and Zenom took a step back. He brought a closed fist to his heart, a yellow glow being absorbed into the breastplate. He closed his eyes, murmuring to himself. Or a prayer to his god.

“And Delas, if you take another step closer; we’re going to have a problem.” I finished.

Delas was creeping up behind me. Figures a rogue would do that. Still, it spoke volumes about how badly this place affected our decision-making, he wasn’t even using any active stealth skills.

“Oh yeah, what’re you going to-” Of course, the Rogue taunted before acting.

For me, it was the opposite. My hand whipped behind me and without even looking, I knew that the tip of my sword struck into his lower abdomen, knocking the breath out of him and causing a sharp pain that traveled up to his neck.

I could practically see Delas sneering after catching his breath. “Took out the Scion and Mage the same way, did you? You an expert on anatomy or something?”

I didn’t answer. But I wanted to tell him, that I knew so much only because Coum’s teachings were still fresh in my mind.

Sensing Delas had stopped moving, I spoke again. “This whole place is a Special Field.” Then I lowered the blade.

“No shit,” Delas quipped. But when I turned to face him, his daggers were gone. He looked left and right, judging the distance between him and Zenom and Borealis. “It’s full of lava. You think that’s just the decor?”

“He’s talking about our minds.” Borealis whispered, breathless. He was sprawled out on the floor and there was a fist-sized crater near his head. Actually, there were a good number of them. The Scion had slammed his fist to the ground in pain. “It’s not a Special field that affects our body, but is aimed at our minds.”

Arrosh and Borealis had taken Ryker’s Manacles off of themselves, both of them looking at me wearily. Well, Borealis did anyways.

“Anger rains from clouds in this place.” Arrosh agreed.

“And you were immune from this?” Zenom joined us, looking much calmer than before.

I shook my head. “No. But seeing you guys helped and realizing that this place might be a Special Field broke me out of it.”

“It’s a strong one.” Arione had his eyes closed, his palm on the ground. “At least by a half-fold. It’ll affect decision making, anger; any slight annoyance might turn into full-blown rage.”

“And you only thought now to look at it?” Delas said scornfully, turning to Zenom. “This is the Grade-2 Mage you chose? The Mage in my own party would’ve-”

Zenom fixed Delas with a look.

“Enough! You’re doing it again!” I got between the two, and with no light effort, pushed the heavily armored Zenom away. “It doesn’t matter that Arione is checking it just now, what matters is that we know about it. Don’t focus on what went wrong, focus on what we can do to fix it moving forward.”

Zenom shook his head wearily after a moment. “...Slaveborn was right. I should have been wary of this. I apologize.”

“It’s not your fault, Sir Zenom.” Borealis muttered.

“No, it is.” Delas said at once.

Arione nodded too.

Borealis frowned but didn’t deny it.

You see, the party leader is in a unique position. You call the shots, you make the decisions. You’re the boss. But with that privilege comes a heavy responsibility: Your choices determine the fate of your party members. And as our party leader, Zenom had not only just put us all at risk, but did so even before seeing a single monster.

And everyone knew it.

I didn’t plan this. But I recognized an opportunity when I saw one.

“Zenom, I’ll be taking over now.” I said without any preamble.

The Holy Knight’s eyes flashed with anger, facing me. “What did you say, Slave?”

I didn’t flinch. “I know more about monsters. I know more about expeditions. If we meet the Bada Orcs here, I can parlay with them; because barring Arrosh, I’m the one who knows about Orc Cultures best. You’re too used to being given a singular goal. What we need right now isn’t a Knight on a mission, but an Adventurer who can make decisions based on an assortment of things he finds that he wasn’t looking for. Do you get the difference?”

Zenom didn’t answer.

“Call it, Zenom.” I said quietly.

“Do you truly think you can lead better than me?” Zenom growled but his heart wasn’t in it.

“You know the answer to that.” I turned to the others. “They know it too.”

I said it on purpose, to grate on people’s nerves. To feed the anger that the Special Field was already fanning into a bonfire –for them to recognize that anger. Once again, they’d be reminded that I was the one who cleaned up Zenom’s mess.

Delas and Arione agreed first. Borealis looked away instead of answering.

But really, it was Zenom’s decision that mattered.

“Fine, Slaveborn. I will follow your lead, for now.”

Good.

This was my party now.