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After grinding their way through the next three floors, they reached the eleventh and found it empty, as Victoria said. It was a sea resort, with villas near the sea, umbrellas, and chaise lounges on the beach. A small tourist town with old houses giving a Mediterranean vibe. The only strange building was a stone wall at the end of the Main Square. It had a closed gate, built to imitate a Medieval castle’s door, with heavy beams, chains, and lock pads locking it up.

“I think this is the portal, and it’s a puzzle, ” Victoria said. “The Joint doesn’t work on it.”

“You think we have to pick the locks?” Cora asked, touching a lock pad. She had barely brushed it with her fingers when a paper appeared on the gate, and it stayed there despite her attempt to take it off. They took turns to read the note.

‘Tis a night of recollection, a time to heal,

A time to reflect, and let the heart reveal.

The lessons learned, and the strength gained,

‘Thy challenges, in the ‘morrow attain.

I, The Warlord

“This is b-bad… This is so b-bad…” Fenrri shivered.

“How bad?” Rowan asked.

“A god messing with our lives bad, so I’d say as bad as it gets.”

“He’s no god,” Hubert interjected.

“True, he’s a divine,” Cora said. “It’s different.”

“It means we have to spend the night here, right?” Rowan said. “It's for the better, we need some rest anyway. Whatever the challenges, we’ll prevail.”

“What hour is it?” Isla asked. “Is time the same in dungeons?”

“Time stays the same,” Cora said. “Dungeons sync with the local hour, if you see the sunset here, it’s evening out there as well.”

“Then it’s settled. Raid, disband. Army… do whatever Fenrri tells you to do. See ya in the morning,” Rowan shouted.

“We camp here, put out the tents, normal patrol and guard order,” the Ogre yelled.

"This is yours," Rowan said, extracting a Bourbon bottle from the inventory and offering it to one of Hubert's comrades. "The lost bet."

"C'mon, man, one bottle? Are you a cheapskate or something?" the warrior snorted.

"Fine…," Rowan sighed, offering a second bottle. "And cheapskate counts for the Swear Jar, just so you know."

"What's going on," Papa Allinder whispered to Cora. He had instinctively lowered his head, then had to raise on his toes, as the Nekojin was in her armor, and thus, taller.

[Cora to Papa Allinder]: Rowan thinks he has a good memory and took a System-reinforced bet, a while ago. He's supposed to remember every high-tier Awakened in town by name or pay them a drink. One of his PR stunts.

[Papa Allinder to Cora]: Oh, my God! He'll go bankrupt! Trust me, Robunny is everything but a brainiac.

[Cora to Papa Allinder]: Rowbunny? That's so sweeeeeeet!

[Papa Allinder to Cora]: Don't tell him I told you.

[Cora to Papa Allinder]: Anyway, don't worry about the drinks, he covers the costs from the Swear Jar.

[Papa Allinder to Cora]: The what?

[Cora to Papa Allinder]: Rowan made a law: every time somebody says something bad about him in public, like ' the fucking Count' or so, ten Mana cents are deducted from their bank account and transferred to us. It's… a fast-growing account.

[Papa Allinder to Cora]: Go figure.

Meanwhile, the discussion about the note and the gate had subsided, and almost everyone finished reading it. There were some bets placed here or there, about what was about to follow, mostly among the goblinoids.

“I’ll go find myself a hotel room,” Bree said.

"Son, what if—"

“No!” Rowan waved his index in a stopping gesture, both at his father and Hubert. “No father-son time, no confessions or life stories. Go stalk someone else, both of you. You know what? Stalk each other, for what I care.”

“Fine,” Papa Allinder sulked, crossing his arms. The priest just shrugged and walked away.

“What if we watch the sunset together?” Rowan asked Cora and Isla.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“What if you take me out of the dungeon, so I could check Thomas’s homework? And then we sleep at my home and I reward you?” Isla grinned.

“It’ll take forever to crawl back…”

“If you go back, he’d lose two stacks of his best perk,” Cora pleaded. “Let’s play it smart.”

“Fine,” Isla surrendered.

Their negotiations concluded, and they found their way to the beach. They were not the only ones, Victoria was also there, lying on a chaise lounge, in a one-piece swimming suit, and smoking a normal cigarette.

“The water is lovely,” Victoria said.

“Thanks. I’ll go for a swim,” Isla said. “I love swimming…”

The blonde took off her clothes, keeping her underwear on, a sports bra and bikini, and ran into the sea, splashing water. She turned for a second, to throw water at the two, but her attempt fell short, so she pulled her tongue at Rowan and Cora, and dived into the next wave.

“How many of those cigarettes do you still have? I mean Joints,” Rowan asked.

Victoria extracted an opened pack and counted the cigarettes inside. “Eighteen. They’re hard to get out there, impossible here… You’re lucky."

The Vampire threw the cigarette butt in the sand and left. After waiting for the blonde to disappear, Cora jumped and picked the butt, throwing it in a bin.

“Bloody criminals,” she hissed. “Never tidy.”

Rowan shrugged. "Doesn't the dungeon absorb the trash? By the way, why do some bodies remain behind in the dungeon? Hubert, when he was killed by the shark on the beach, or that Goblin?”

Cora patted his cheek, explaining with calm and patience, like for a child: “Bodies remaining behind are the norm. Low-tier people are not dissolving into Mana. On top of that, the ones you saw staying behind had a chance of being resurrected, and the System knew.”

“I guess I still have a lot to learn.”

Cora nodded, stretching herself. The sun was almost gone and Isla returned to the beach to enjoy the last rays. Her wet hair was flowing over her breasts, and she looked like a siren.

"Goodness, Isla… you're beautiful," Cora exclaimed.

"Yeah, you wouldn't say she's so tough," Rowan nodded. "I have a question, baby. You told me to invest my points at the last moment, but I need more Mana, and that means increasing my Charisma to the third threshold.”

“Considering the Warlord’s toying with us, I say go for it. Can you share your stats first?”

“With me too,” Isla said. “Just curious.”

“By the way, I never saw your stats,” Rowan said.

Isla’s stare threw back a dagger. “You saw my ass, and that’s enough. A woman’s stats are private.”

“If you say so,” Rowan rolled his eyes, sharing his Character Stats.

Name: Rowan Allinder. Lvl. 73. Main class: Indomitable (Legendary). Secondary Class: Primeval Magus (Mythical)

58 APs available

Str. 55 / Dex. 55 / Con. 55 / Int. 77/ Wil. 81 / Cha. 55

“Looks good,” Cora said. “Even without supplementary APs, you can reach the third threshold in every stat, and throw some extra points here and there for more Mana or whatever. Perfect. Put APs in Charisma and tell me the perks.”

“Err… what’s a secondary class?” Isla asked.

“Fuck!” Rowan facepalmed. “I forgot she doesn’t know…”

“Pfff…”

“Guys! Don’t you dare lie to me! What’s a secondary class?”

Cora looked around to see if there was anyone around, then leaned toward Isla, speaking in a low voice. “A handful of people can unlock secondary classes through powerful experiences. It practically doubles the number of your perks. That’s why Rowan is so powerful. But it carries a risk. If you find out about them too soon, your mind tries to fill the void and you can get something trivial. Grace was the first to get a secondary class but I made her keep the secret because Rowan risked getting something like Forklift Operator at that time.”

“Ha ha ha,” Isla threw her head back in laughter. “Sorry…” she patted Rowan’s hand.

“I’m sure you’ll get something like Ticket Obsessed, or Sexy Police Brutality,” Rowan sneered.

“I got the Cavity Search class…”

“W-what?”

“Gotcha, dummy. I’m still a simple Enforcer.”

“And it’s not a given you’ll get a secondary class,” Cora continued. “The ratio of people getting it is infinitesimally small.”

“Whatever. I’m fine anyway. I’ll let you two talk your nerdish and head back to town. There’s some barbecue smell in the air and I’m hungry.”

Picking her clothes from the sand, dusting them, and dressing back, Isla walked away, with Rowan looking longingly after her.

“C’mon, get your head together," Cora snapped her fingers near his ear. "Charisma?”

“Moment… Oh… that’s so nice.”

Charisma Perk, Threshold 3 (Main Class: Indomitable): Cost Reduction. Simple, yet efficient. -25% Mana cost for all spells and perks.

Charisma Perk, Threshold 3 (Secondary Class: Primeval Magus): Hurtful. Gretchen’s Question, Svartálfar’s Stare, Sonar, and Insight can deliver CC effects to enemies. The effect is increased for lower-tier targets, applying damage as well.

“You lucky bastard…”

“It's because of you, Cora. Your advice helped a lot."

"Whatever. I'm sleepy, I'm going back to town."

Rowan caught her by the hand before she raised up. "What if we sleep here? The beach is lovely.”

“Fine… but let’s join the chairs, I want to cuddle… Rowbunny.”

----------------------------------------

Rowan was having quite a nightmare. All his three wives scolded him for some wrong he did, screaming at him, loudly… He woke up in a sweat. In real life, the yelling was done by Fenrri.

“Come, we have big problems.”

“Is Cora safe,” he rushed to ask, seeing she was not there.

“She’s in the square. Come.”

Probably because she thought him too slow, Fenrri grabbed and threw Rowan over her right shoulder. He felt like one of those heavy sacks or crates he had to lift in the Bourbon factories he had worked in. In the Square, everybody was gathered around the Triumphal Arch.

“What’s going on?” Rowan asked.

“Take a look,” Fenrri said, letting him down.

On the wooden gate was a new note, a piece of parchment with handwriting. Red letters, of course.

I, The Walord, have compressed Levels 12-19 into this gate and transformed it into a Challenge.

Four champions have been selected to enter the gate and confront the test, having guessed the answer to my riddle:

A time to reflect, and let the heart reveal.

The lessons learned, and the strength gained,

and invested APs before dawn, reaching at least one threshold.

The challengers will enter the gate in this order: Papa Allinder, Hubert the Paladin, Rowan Allinder, and Isla Culloden. Refusing the test = roll of dice with a 50% chance of Insta Perma Death.

Rewards: 1 Level. 1 AP. Information. Life-changing experience. Access to the Boss’s Lair.

“Told you, this is bad,” Fenrri said.

“I didn’t guess anything, it was just happenstance,” Rowan complained. “Did any of you?” Every champion shook their head in denial.

“I’ll take the test,” Papa Allinder said. “I’m old, so… at least I spent my last days happy, having fun with my son.”

“I’ll go for it too,” Isla said with a heavy tone.

Hubert nodded, and Rowan shrugged. He was going for the challenge anyway The text on the paper changed.

Papa Allinder is asked to touch the Gate.