Necks bending to glimpse the mage at the center of it all, Val fought the urge to shrivel in the face of the attention. Shouts of frustration were passed forward at the halted progression and she grew thankful the rift ranked no higher than copper.

Pissing off a Novice might result in a charred hand, a blinded eye, a missing limb—maybe all of the above. But the wrath of an Adept endangered her life and there was nothing Silann could do to achieve a different outcome. The ruckus drew an adventurer from the depths of the walls, hair gelled and arms crossed.

“Entrance cannot be given. Without. A. Badge.”

“Silann’s heart is in the right place, Lieberman.” Craning his head upwards, Rick took a step forward. "We both know we can play a hand in the survival of that man. Allow us to do so. We’ll see to it that he’s healed and sent out with his group.”

The hum of conversation dispersed into an awkward lull at the proposition, eyes now directed at Lieberman.

“On the honour of our guild,” Rick added.

Struggle hitched Lieberman’s shoulders to his neck, but the moment disappeared as swiftly as it came. “Should anything adverse happen, let it be known that Age of Atera permitted this man’s entrance.” He raised a fist. “Gap the gates!”

A baritone groan shook the ground and the team of geo mages yanked the earthen barriers apart. Silann sifted through the crowd like a hot knife in butter, the feat made easier when adventurers gave her plenty of breathing room. Following at her back, they watched as she crouched next to the trio of adventurers.

“Thank you,” one said.

“Dan, was it?” Silann pointed to the wheezing ranger, half-conscious, half-a-foot in the ground. Receiving a nod for an answer, she swirled her wrists and the air came alive. His body floated on cushy drafts, dragged above the ground as the team marched past the so-called gapped gates.

Cavities perforated the insides of the barriers, and if Val squinted hard enough, she caught the metallic sheen of a spear in each hole. At Lieberman’s command, she suspected they could become human kabobs in seconds. A sigh of relief departed her as soon as she was free of the barriers’ confinement. Welcomed into the settlement behind its protection, her relief quickly transitioned to wonder.

Unwrinkled paths of pale soil formed a well-placed grid, and the rounded shapes of cob houses filled the empty spaces in the gaps. No structure surpassed five stories, despite the cavern ceiling allowing at least double the height.

Dainty trees lit the way as fuzzy particles invaded their brown leaves, shedding a warm purple on the ambling denizens. The sight was unlike anything she’d discerned. For heaven's sake, caravans trotted on by with car-sized insects at the end of their leashes.

“You two look like kids who’ve just gotten their first E-shield,” Silann chuckled, setting down the ranger on a nearby bench. A set of scrolls appeared in her hand as she knelt beside the injured man, passing a paper on to Rick.

“You can go ahead and explore,” she said over the shoulder. “All I ask is that you remember to make it back to Habour’s early enough to get a good sleep. We’ll meet you there.”

The gates reopened and a stream of adventurers passed them. Aeron plastered on a smile that screamed ‘‘nothing to see here,’ exhaling once the batch turned down the nearest corner. “Yeah, I’m not too certain about that last one.”

“Hush,” Silann answered. “Don’t mind Aeron over here, girls. You’re free to roam around.”

“You sure?” Caro asked. "This whole badge business seems kind of unsettled to me."

“Go before I change my mind.”

“On it!” In a blink, Caro’s iron-vice grip clamped on Val's forearm—the force strong enough to be felt through her soft armour—and lugged her away into the roads. Setting out at a brisk pace, their strides slowed as the excitement ebbed away to reveal a solemn undercurrent.

Don’t get her wrong, the deep-rooted rowdiness of adventuring guilds was still noticeable in every corner of the Base Camp. Shops set up tour guides, tents stole the sidewalks to sell their goods, and the distant yodel of a bard from one pub or another livened the streets.

Heck, the city square was a bowl-shaped divot in the ground, with a pair of mages engaging in an Elemental Exchange. Flashes of lights entranced the growing crowd, a few rednotes up for grabs if you gambled the odds right.

Yet, there resided a serious outline over each smile, a shadow hidden behind a bout of laughter. It was a semblance of peace. A pretense of order. A place solely to destress and unwind, because the weight of the next day would be too heavy if the baggage of the past tagged along.

Death and loss, it seemed, were familiar to many of those present.

“Smoked Scorp Leg?” an Auricean asked. He carried a manpurse, stuffed with charred appendages that were swaddled in flannel wrappings. Speaking of death.

Caro gagged as she watched Val shrug and pluck one.

“You watch horror, you eat horror, what’s next?” her friend muttered, returning her sights to the makeshift Casting Circle below.

Val jiggled the crispy stick of meat. “How much?”

The man thumbed a stand to the side of the area. “Payment’s done over there.”

Making her way over, she munched on the esoteric treat in her hands. It’s halfway between fish and beef jerky. Not bad, to be honest.

“If my memory serves me right, you’re a fresh face.” A Kidraan narrowed his blue eyes at her arrival, an assortment of gear on display behind him. E-Shields, G1 scrolls, trail meals—the commodities were a wide spectrum of what most adventurers would need. Do I need anything, though?

“I go by Val.” She dropped change in the bin labeled for smoked scorpion, devouring the last of it and trashing the wrap. “You have anything worth buying?”

“Don’t worry, Oldman Uche’s got just the thing.” Wandering his shack, he dumped an age-old tome on the counter. “Illnesses, aether creatures, rift structure—this book informs you about everything you need to know about Dark Mineshaft.”

Val flipped through, easily gleaning info off the pages due to many nights up late reading enchantment-related texts. “Maybe next time,” she winced, returning the item. “Though the rift is new to me, it’s not to my teammates.”

“Fair, fair.” Something seemed to weigh down the older man, heavier than the metal plates of armour donning his leathers. “Forgive a man for trying, but I feel useless letting a greenhorn like you leave empty-handed.”

Val hummed, a hand on her chin. “I guess there is one thing you can help me with. I’d love to know where Harbour’s at.”

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

Val’s rest at Harbour's was far too short. Those beds were heavenly.

The next day slammed into her with the force of a bus. A stench of rot wafted about, immediately felt as they parted ways with the underground settlement. She couldn’t place why, yet something unnerved her, causing her to twirl Aster as a calming effort.

The tunneled path ahead forked into three ways and Rick chose the center without a moment's hesitation. Anytime Silann voiced her suspicions, the group paused and let Rick use his affinity-based antenna to sense the minerals in the vicinity. His Vice-Captain would throw him a shovel and, in a matter of minutes, he’d excavate the desired object.

Opening the duffle bag in her arms, the Bulwark placed it inside with much care and marched onwards. Val shook her head, bumbling along at his heels. She knew her old job would’ve been ten times easier if they had a geo mage, capable of ridding miners of the futile digs they sometimes engaged in.

Grabbing a quest at the guildhall, they entered the maws of the Dark Mineshaft with more in mind than reaping energy cores. There was a quota to be met, promised goods offered by the artisan branch. The weeks past proved how futile lower levels of rifts were, and Val could hardly imagine how her parents kept them afloat with that income.

They fell into a rhythm—Strikers and Hunter kept watch in front, the leaders focused on mining minerals, and the Anchor watched their rear. Four hours passed like so, tedious and yet simple.

Their work came to a screeching halt as the scuttling of a thousand feet echoed from afar. Val’s face darkened at the indication and goosebumps popped on the few areas of skin visible through Caro’s armour.

“Pentagon position: Turtle!” Rick ordered.

Aeron looted the liquids from the surrounding dirt. A barrier of yellow-green liquid bubbled behind the backline, thickening as he strung rivers into the shield.

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Rick’s charms blazed. “Geo Gates.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three thick stone slabs manifested in rapid succession, shutting out the view of the manipulation spell. The spell blocked out the sound of encroaching footfalls and the swish of water entirely. In that instance, the description from the Discipline Corridor flowed into her mind.

DISCIPLINE OF FORTIFICATION —used by Bulwarks

The Discipline of Fortification is used for defense and defense alone. The suppression of the enemy’s usage in the arcane is possible and intricate spells of defence can be cast, like interceptive shields or Runic Abjuration.

Not the time Val, she told herself. She needed a solid grip on her thoughts from here on out.

Nodding at his work, Rick surveyed his fellow adventurers. “Run.”

“What?” Silann hissed. “We’re digging ourselves into a hole if we go deeper inside.”

“The tunnel expands some distance back. It’ll give us a better chance than here. Let’s go. Now!”

The force in his demand prompted the team forward, leaving nothing to do except trust his choice. Breaking out into a sprint, they dashed ahead as a unit—as one. A mob in a tight space suggested little more than a grim death.

She sent a prayer to the saints for Rick’s choice to be one led by a straight compass. For once, they seemed to grant Val her wish. Thirty seconds in, or however long her mind chopped it up to be, the narrow tunnel bloated to an expanse similar to that of an EC-room in space.

Seldom a moment to breathe, she found herself next to Caro, out of position by a mile. She scrambled to reach the other end of the Bulwark to balance the presence of a Striker on each side. A mind-numbing sensation occupied the air and her muscles malfunctioned, her arms falling limp at her hips.

The six witnessed a skeletal worm scurry inside, a countless number of boney phalanges at its bottom. No reinforcements followed behind, its gait to blame for the simulation of an army. Cavities lounged in its face, staring at the humans as an endless standstill stretched.

Out of fear, instinct, or the desire to break out the attenuation effects of its aura, Val initiated first. “Metal Spike!”

A coldsteel thorn sailed towards the chimera. Squealing, it swerved to the side in one fluid motion and spat a torrent of gooey substance. Val lunged away, glancing to her right to find a floor-to-ceiling wall of slime.

It encased the entire length of the subterranean space, separating the squad from its Strikers. Drawing the trusty dagger strapped to her thigh, she stabbed at the grey material.

The blade eroded.

“Caro.” Val unsheathed her sword, stomach lodged within her throat. “I think we’re by ourselves here.”

"You gotta be kidding me." Caro unfastened her greataxe, readying for a fight unaccompanied by the help of their teammates. Wish I was.

Val searched for the calm she procured steps before the separator veil. Focusing on her inner self, she weaved the most frames she’d done in live action. From form, to stretch, to multiply, she hoped the spell that came alive resembled the one practiced behind closed doors. “Metal Spike Quartet!”

Four coldsteel spikes poked out of the ground, slinking through the gaps of the chimera. In the face of insufficient energy, pangs of acute discomfort struck her core. Quick to snatch a tonic from her coat, she threw the aether potion to the back of her mouth. Clamped between her molars, the capsule crushed into bits and flavourless liquid raced down her tongue.

“Metallic Reformation!”

Signature to the metal mage, she weaved invocation into the conjured spell. The prongs took on a curved end, hooking the being’s bones in place and terminating its ability to move. For a worm twice the width of her bedroom, it travelled fast, as if its many feet surfed on the ground.

Thin layers of frost raced up its skeleton and the chimera somehow squealed in pain. With the little amount of flesh hanging off its frame rotting beforehand, Val had not a clue if any of her attacks—heat conductivity, included—would affect its capabilities.

Caro swung at the incapacitated chimera, the edge of the curved weapon coated in inscribed light. It looked more like she smacked a rock. The weapon ricocheted off the chimera’s boney exterior leaving a single scratch, its fleshless face chittering with ease.

One of the metal spikes snapped and Caro hurried to retrace her steps. The next three of the quartet followed its sibling, and the magma mage let out a flood of expletives.

Val threw another potion in her throat and forced down the liquid energy. Trading positions with her friend, her empty AV refilled itself in the meantime. The act felt artificial, like an IV drip.

Grains on the floor converged into limbs at Caro’s command, relocking the chimera to the ground. As Val rounded its body to strike at its sides, the being twisted out of its sand chains to take a bite out of her.

“Metal Spike!”

Val grunted and lodged a coldsteel rod in between its gaping jaws, a wave of decay washing over her. She couldn’t stop her heart from hammering against her poor ribcage. Almost lost a limb there.

| A foe capable of terminating Wielder detected.

| Overriding Code 292…

| Activating Wielder-Bound Encyclopedia and low-level advice to ensure survival.

Lines of script bombarded Val, causing her to backpedal as she attempted to rid herself of the distraction. Low-level advice? What’s this now?

Refocusing on the enemy in sight brought a storm of notifications, as if she were a character inside one of Caro’s games.

| [ {Chimera} Lifemonger - Tier One]

* | Susceptible to heat-focused positive elements.

* | No need for sustenance to survive; easy to scare into retreat

| You’ve got it together—great job Wielder!

Val would’ve snorted at the last message had the circumstances been vastly different. Ideas churning in her head, she retreated a few paces to put the pieces into place. “Hey Caro, remember how you had our last guest running with their tails between their legs?”

A short “Ha!” burst from Caro’s lips as her arms strained against the chimera, a physical interpretation of the mental battle at hand. “I don’t… think my cooking… will have the same effect.”

“Yeah.” Val dodged another one of its advances by casting a spike beneath its head, a scream shattering out of its hollow throat. “But magma will.”

She could hear the gears turning in Caro’s head at her next question. “How long… do you think… that E-shield of yours will last?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Get over here.”

Backpedaling for a moment, she swiveled on her heels and darted to Caro’s side.

Planting the shaft of the E-shield as firmly as her strength allowed, she spilled her remaining energy into the device. It sparked alive and a rush of water tided to cover their front. She tweaked the knob visible on the shaft, and it diverged into omnipresent-mode. A liquid barrier surged around them in a dome, safeguarding every angle.

Caro muttered her spell under her breath as the last of her sand restraints snapped. Through the translucent cover, she witnessed the horrific sight of a skeletal worm advancing for them and braced herself.

The Lifemonger shrieked and rammed its boney head at the forefront of the E-shield. Val’s arms trembled as she struggled to buffer the magitech, ensuring it was secured and rooted. Stance broadening, steady breaths continued leaving and going as timed. The chimera deviated, lashing its tail at the back.

Val lurched forward, but she stood her ground. The creature tried a different tactic. It encircled the dome with its long body, skittering around, its face never departing its prey.

Then, it squeezed. Hard.

The shaft in her grasp short-circuited. The device's simple enchanted wiring likely didn’t have this tactic in its books. Val left her fate to the Elemental Saints, praying that it withstood it for a little more.

White-hot sparks lashed her palms and she grunted, ignoring the bubblings in her hands. The shaft veered this way and that, absorbing the brunt of the attack.

“Magma Flood!”

Caro casted a spell that put Val's entire spell cache to shame. Using the near-unlimited aether within brought forth an immediate reaction. The ground, except for the circle saved by the E-shield, morphed into molten red magma.

A shrill cry left the Lifemonger’s hollow windpipes. Circling their safe bubble a couple of times, it slipped through the gooey barrier, shutting the door on the way out.

“Finally,” Caro got out, collapsing to the floor like a tipped-over statue.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Val’s hands reacted a second late, and her friend crashed without a hint of support.

“Cee, wake up!” she yelled. “This is not the time for a rebound!”

Rising to her feet, Val hung by her side as fret mauled her insides. Despite the two throwing their all into the fight, they hardly dented the creature’s facial hair. How would her team fare on the other side? It’s up to our ace, Sila—

A javelin of unknown material wedged itself inside her torso, blowing her away in a blast. A soundless cry came out as she slammed against a wall. The javelin sank deeper inside, piercing her entire set of armour, and attaching her to the stone enclosure.

Heavens. Through clenched eyelids, she watched as a scorpion the size of a wolf prowled in Caro’s direction, mandibles clicking in delight.

For the first time, she missed her aether emanation predicament of the early year. Had she possessed it, she’d seen the attack coming from a mile away. Damn it.

Fire coursed through her body as she moved for her pockets, detaching a healing scroll and withholding the tears viciously trying to break through. At once, she pulled at the rod.

It didn’t budge.

She attempted again, a shallow groan leaving her. Nothing.

The scorpion started on Caro’s leg. Val’s blood ran cold.

“Heavens above, Valory,” she muttered in a breathless wheeze. “You’re not losing Caro.”

One.

Val took a breath that wracked a fiery pain. It invaded her lungs, her insides, her mind. Her thoughts flowed about as well as molasses.

Two.

She exhaled in a shuddering manner. Here she went.

Three.

Val screamed and tugged at the rod, heedless of the lines of salty liquid streaking her cheeks. Surging forward, the rod clanked to the stone floor. Val didn’t question the what or the how.

She pressed the G3 healing scroll to her abdomen, flooding the required energy into its runes. The inscription lit up and her skin mended together, worth every rednote she spared.

Shaking off a verdant itch, she raced towards her limp friend with vengeance in mind.