I waited for a while. It felt like a lot, but I’m pretty sure it was just a few seconds. I massaged my neck that thankfully was still in one piece. I opened my eyes and looked at Gareth.

The man, now seated in his improvised mattress, just smiled and made a motion with his head towards my leg. As expected, they already realized. They were just waiting for me to come clean.

Awkward.

I pulled up my torn trousers, revealing the wound. Gareth examined it closely, his brow furrowed.

“That’s… nasty,” he said. “It looks infected.”

My heart sank. I had feared as much.

“Do any of you have any way to help me with this mess?” I asked, my voice low.

Gareth looked at the others, who were now starting to stir. Apparently none of them were sleeping, other than Finn and Bronwyn, that is. Because they sure weren’t faking those snores.

Elara, the woman with the staff, approached us, her expression concerned.

“Let me see,” she said, gently pushing Gareth aside. She knelt down and examined the wound, her fingers probing gently around the bite.

“It’s not too deep,” she said, looking up at me. “But it’s definitely infected. Rats always do that. It’s like their ‘gift’ or something. Slightly troublesome. We have some herbs that might help, but…”

She trailed off, her expression uncertain.

“But what?” I asked, my stomach clenching. Did I really fucked up? Will I have to turn into a crystal statue for a while to recover?

“We don’t have any proper healing magic,” Gareth said, his voice apologetic. “Elara has some knowledge of herbal remedies, but they’re not nearly as effective.”

I sighed in relief. There was a way. Or at least a chance

“We’ve heard rumors of people with powerful healing abilities,” Finn added while yawning. “But we haven’t encountered any ourselves.”

Heard rumors where? From who? I wanted to ask, but kept my mouth shut.

A wave of disappointment washed over me. But I didn’t let it show. I was still hoping for some quick fix, a magical cure or something like that. I’m sure this bullshit system had a recipe for a freaking healing potion but was holding out to avoid making things too easy. Or it would charge an exorbitant price. Most likely the second option.

Either way, it seemed I would have to rely on more mundane methods. Slow methods. Inefficient methods. But still, better than whatever I could come up with. Yep, cauterization for sure.

“The herbs will help to slow the infection and allow your body to fight it,” Elara said, rummaging through a small pouch she carried at her belt. “But you’ll need to keep it clean and bandaged.”

She pulled out a handful of dried leaves and some strips of cloth. “These are some cleansing herbs,” she explained. “And this cloth is clean, though not sterile.”

She showed me how to prepare a poultice from the herbs and how to bandage the wound. It was a rudimentary treatment, but it was better than nothing.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice sincere.

“It’s the least we can do,” Gareth said. “We’re all in this together.”

As I bandaged my leg, I thought about their words. “We’re all in this together.” It was a comforting sentiment, but I knew it wasn’t entirely true. We were all survivors, yes, but we were also individuals, each with our own goals and motivations.

That fact that I didn’t trust these people hardly mattered now. They had helped me when I needed it. That was enough. I would help them in return.

For the moment, I had a small respite, a temporary alliance with a group of strangers. And that, in itself, was a small victory. Bigger ones are bound to come. Soon.

And while I was thinking about this unlikely alliance, the pain in my leg had subsided, replaced by a cool, soothing sensation from the herbal poultice. It was a welcome relief, allowing me to focus on the more pressing matters at hand. It was time for a more direct conversation. A conversation about spirit shards. And growth.

They had mentioned that shards were relatively easy to obtain. Easy for them, perhaps. They were armed, experienced, and some of them possessed abilities granted by the System. I, on the other hand, had only a slightly dull axe, and a slowly healing bite wound.

I had dispatched two giant rats without much trouble, relying on instinct and a makeshift shield. But the second encounter had been a rude wake up call. I had been wounded, and I knew my current method, if it can even be called that, wasn’t reliable at all.

It made sense that they considered shards easy to acquire. Their methods work. But I needed to know their methods, their strategies. I needed to find a way to acquire the twenty five shards needed to rescue Mark and let us both leave that place safely. If we decided to leave, that is.

I would have to do my best to convince Mark that staying there was actually more beneficial. The time dilation effect couldn’t be denied. I can deal with the danger. Rather easily, in fact.

Mark wasn’t a close friend, not really. We were more like colleagues, bound by the experience of working in the same department. But he did help me, releasing me from whatever force had held me captive. It’s only natural that I do the same. Preferably without ending up like him.

Sure, if he still wanted to venture out of the instance like this group, that was fine. I wouldn’t. Not if I can handle the things within it by myself. All I need is to repay my debt to him and perhaps ask him some questions. Ok, maybe a lot of questions.

He might know how I ended up encased in crystal since all I saw was that the sky had shifted through an impossible spectrum of colors. And I need to recruit these people to come with me and show me the ropes, because I need shards. So, in the end, it’s all Mark’s fault.

And, yes, this whole talk is just to make me willing to ask for more help while blaming it on Mark.

I cleared my throat, drawing the attention of the group. They were still gathered around the fire, no one had gone back to sleep. Some sharpening their weapons, others cleaning their gear.

“You mentioned that spirit shards are relatively easy to come by,” I began, choosing my words carefully. “I’m interested in learning more about that.”

Gareth looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “It depends on what you’re willing to do,” he said, his voice cautious.

“I usually adapt fast to deal with problems,” I replied, my voice firm. “I need to acquire some shards. I have someone I need to get out of there.” I gesture to the instance behind me.

“We understand,” Elara said, her expression sympathetic. “It’s a common goal.”

“There are several ways to acquire shards,” Gareth explained. “The most common is by defeating Hostile Entities. Monsters, basically.”

“I did some of that,” I said, putting a hand over my wound and thinking of the giant rats. “But I’m not exactly trained for combat.”

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“That’s where dungeons come in,” Finn said, his eyes lighting up. “They’re teeming with monsters that can’t get out. You go in, give your best, and if it gets too tough, you get out. And those monsters have a chance to drop shards, some even multiple shards, depending on its strength, which means you can improve, even if slowly.”

“But dungeons also require an entry fee,” I pointed out. “Which I currently don’t have.”

“Not all dungeons,” Gareth corrected. “Some are… open. They don’t require a fee to enter. But they’re usually more dangerous, with stronger monsters.”

“And then there are the instances themselves,” Bronwyn added. “Sometimes, you can find shards within instances, scattered around the environment or on the bodies of dead creatures.”

“So, what’s the fastest way to get the shards I need?” I asked, cutting to the chase. “I need twenty five of them, at least.”

Gareth considered my question for a moment. “The fastest way would be to tackle a dungeon,” he said. “But you said you’re not experienced in combat.”

“But I like to think of myself as a quick learner,” I replied, my voice firm.

“Even so,” Gareth said, shaking his head. “Going into a dungeon alone, especially one with giant rats that might attack in big packs, is suicide. You won't last long.”

“Noted.” I said, frustrated. “But there has to be another way,”

“There is,” Rhys said while slowly sheathing his daggers, his voice quiet but firm. “And you already took the first step. You come with us.”

I looked at him, surprised.

“We’re planning on tackling a dungeon in a few days,” Gareth explained. “A relatively low-level one. We could always use more help. And you seem to have potential.”

“And in return,” Elara added, “we’ll share the loot. Including the spirit shards.”

The offer was tempting. Joining their group would give me access to resources, protection, and valuable experience. And it would allow me to acquire the spirit shards I needed much faster.

But I still hesitated. Joining their group meant giving up some of my independence. Not that it meant much, no point in having freedom if the only thing you can do with that is fail.

“What kind of dungeon?” I asked, stalling for time.

“A goblin cave,” Gareth replied with a glint in his eyes. “It’s supposed to be relatively easy, but it’s still a good source of shards.”

“And how many shards are we talking about?” I asked.

“It varies,” Gareth said. “But we usually come out with at least twenty or thirty shards each.”

Twenty or thirty shards each. A minimum of one hundred shards. Over fifteen shards if it gets split six ways. Two delves and I would have more than enough to rescue Mark.

I considered the offer carefully. It was a risk, but it was a risk worth taking. I needed those shards, and I needed to get stronger. And joining this group seemed like the best way to achieve both.

“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll go.” I can always come back for the rats and crocs later.

A smile spread across Gareth’s face. “Welcome to the group, Vincent,” he said.

With the agreement made, a sense of uneasy alliance settled over me. Now that I was officially part of their expedition, I felt entitled to more information. Not anything related to the prior topics. What I needed was to understand the risks we were about to face.

“So,” I began, turning to Gareth. “Tell me about this goblin cave.”

Gareth leaned back against a rock, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s a relatively small dungeon,” he said. “A network of caves and tunnels about a dozen kilometers from here. The goblins are… well, goblins. Small, green, and generally unpleasant.”

“What do they do?” I asked.

“Mostly raiding and trapping,” Elara answered. “They’re not particularly strong individually, but they’re cunning and they rely on numbers.”

My stomach tightened. Raiding and trapping. Neither of those sounded good. Traps meant hidden dangers, unexpected hazards. And raiding meant they were capable of fighting, especially in groups. And if they lived in a dungeon, a confined space, they would almost certainly be fighting in groups as the traps did their job at the same time, most likely.

“Trapping?” I asked, my voice laced with concern. “What kind of traps?”

“All sorts,” Finn said, shrugging. “Pit traps, snares, tripwires… anything they can think of to catch prey.”

“And they’re good at it,” Bronwyn added grimly. “We heard of groups losing a few good men to goblin traps.”

Hear from who? Other groups? There are bands of survivors playing adventurers? Ok, not asking it yet. Focus on the job.

My apprehension grew. This “easy” dungeon was starting to sound less and less appealing. If the traps alone were dangerous enough to kill experienced adventurers, what chance did I have?

“And what about their weapons?” I asked. “Do they use ranged weapons?”

Gareth nodded. “Some of them do,” he said. “Mostly crude bows and slings. But they also use darts and blowguns, sometimes tipped with poison.”

Poison. That was even worse. A single well-placed dart could incapacitate a person, leaving them vulnerable to the goblins’ attacks. If not killing them later on. I was about to ask about antidotes and things like that, but never managed to.

“They also have a shaman,” Rhys added, his voice low. “He’s the one who usually directs the raids and sets up the more elaborate traps.”

A shaman. That implied some form of magic, or ritualistic shenanigans, at least some understanding of rudimentary alchemy, hence poison. It didn’t bode well.

My mind raced, trying to assess the situation. Small, green, unpleasant, cunning, numerous, trapping, raiding, ranged weapons, poison, a shaman… This didn’t sound easy at all. It sounded incredibly dangerous.

“What makes this an ‘easy’ dungeon?” I asked, my voice laced with skepticism. “It sounds like there’s a lot that can go wrong.”

Gareth smiled then shrugged. “It’s low-level,” he said. “The goblins themselves aren’t particularly strong. And the dungeon isn’t very large. We’ve cleared it before.”

“You’ve cleared it before,” I repeated, my voice flat. “That makes a difference.”

“We have some experience dealing with goblins,” Elara said, trying to reassure me. “We know their tactics.”

“Do you have any… abilities that help with these kinds of situations?” I asked, carefully phrasing my question. I was trying to determine if they had some hidden advantage, some “gift” from the System that made these encounters easier for them.

They exchanged glances, a brief flicker of hesitation passing between them.

“We have some… minor enhancements,” Gareth said finally. “Nothing too powerful.”

“But no healing or cleansing or purification or anything like that?” I asked, cutting to the chase.

Gareth shook his head. “No,” he said. “We haven’t found anyone with such abilities yet.”

That confirmed my suspicions. They were really considering going into this dungeon, or going back if they already been there, without any dedicated healing. That made the risks even greater. Maybe not for them, but definitely for me.

A handful of well-placed shots with poisonous projectiles, be it darts or arrows, not to mention throwing spears or javelins, and it’s all over. And keep in mind that such creatures must have them since they are not only cowardly but have a shaman as their leader.

And they were calling it easy?

Was I missing something? Or were they simply downplaying the dangers? Or they could deal with the poisonous projectiles? Are they setting me up as cannon fodder?

I was already starting to have serious doubts about this expedition. Or this group. Maybe both?

It wasn't just because it didn’t seem as easy as they were saying. I am quite sure that if they did clear it before they knew they could handle it.

It’s because of me. It’s because it seems way too fucking dangerous for me.

I think I am already missing the rats and lizards… I thought with a crooked smile.

Then I realized. This is all bullshit. I rather deal with the rats. Sure, it will take time and lots of grates to funnel their path and block their advances, but I could certainly poke them to death from behind steel cover and there’s nothing the rodents could do to me. My shield worked, no reason a cage wouldn’t. Traps were still a safe way to deal with all of them.

Hell, I caught four big ass lizards and left them to die using a trap. What are some oversized rodents compared to that? Wait, the crocs… They should be way better than the goblins as prey, right?

Fine. You guys forced my hand. Time for the ‘you don’t recruit me, I recruit you’ master move.

So, I spilled the beans. I talked about what I truly thought about this whole ‘goblin’ mess. And even give them an alternative route, my route.

I expected anger or maybe someone to call me delusional. But, their reactions were… diverse.

Gareth and Bronwyn were doing a joint act. Both were slack jawed with shoulders slumped down, like they came home only to see their house on fire. The most normal reaction among them, one that I considered a possibility, if a little bit exaggerated.

Finn was laughing out loud while slapping his thighs. Truly laughing, not smiling. Quite rude.

Rhys was doing his best to hold his laugh, and failing. Looking away with a hand over his face while still glancing at me between his fingers and sending me a thumbs up. Also rather rude, but equally confusing, to say the least.

But Elare took the crown.

Elara was frozen in a loop with her left hand over her mouth and holding her staff with even whiter knuckles. She just kept looking at all of us, one at a time, over and over, and nodding while doing so. Very weird. I think she sort of broke.

I sighed and looked up, turned around and started to walk to the instance. My instance, now.

That’s when the five all pretty much screamed at the same time for me to wait. A very creepy coordinated act. I am sort of afraid to turn around now.