Ethan wrapped his arms around Lucantele. Warmth spread through his body as the Great Spirit allowed the Caller to hug him. Targe and Twist tied off Tulip on a fallen pillar, rushing over to see the spirit. They both bowed.

Ethan pulled away. “Not sure why I missed you so much.”

“You have my Symbol,” Luca said.

“It’s not the same.”

“That’s true. It’s nice to meet your companions. Much better than seeing them during an upgrade ritual.”

“Too bad they can’t understand you,” Ethan said with a chuckle. “Guys, this is Lucantele. The Great Spirit of Hope. He’s a cool guy.”

“Hello,” Targe said, waving awkwardly.

“May I hug him as well?” Twist asked.

“He may,” Luca said with a nod.

Twist strode over, awkwardly crouching to hug the Great Spirit. “He is very warm.”

“Yeah. Anything changed while I was gone? Are you holding up well?” Ethan asked.

Luca didn’t respond. He spun on the spot and led the group into the temple. It was just as ruined as Ethan remembered. Perhaps more than before, actually. A few more pillars had fallen down, more steles cracked and shattered on the ground. None of that ruined the good mood the Great Spirit brought, though.

“Parabaxis,” Luca said without prompting. “She’s elusive. A fairy-style spirit that refuses to ascend to a Great Spirit.”

Ethan shuffled his feet awkwardly. The little guy was getting straight to business. “Do you know where she is?”

“Wreaking havoc south of the Fangstone Mountains.”

“Wait, really?”

“Really.”

“Well, damn. Feels like that could have been a letter or something. If you just knew where she was.” Ethan wasn’t mad at Luca. He was mad at the circumstances.

“Telbarantis can extend Void’s life for years, Ethan,” Luca said. “With the power of the [Dungeon Core] you gave him, he can hold her core together with the power of his will.”

Targe tapped Ethan on the shoulder. “Mind translating?”

“Parabaxis is south of the orcs. Void should live for a while, though. At least a year.”

“Well, then I have another question. How do I earn the favor of a Lesser Spirit?”

“A wise question to ask,” Lucantele said. “Would you hate me if I asked you for a favor? A favor that would rob you of money. A favor that only I would see the benefit of?”

Ethan shrugged. He’d already lost a dungeon’s treasure to Telbarantis’ over-eager jaws. Why not do it again? “Sure. No problem.”

“I’m not as cruel as Telbarantis. But I need an intact [Dungeon Core]. Part of the reason I’ve been whispering into Sven’s dreams.” Luca bound over to an opening in the temple, nodding at the beetle. “You’ll need that to transport it down from the mountains.”

Ethan tried not to laugh. He really did. But as he burst out, quickly coming to tears, his companions looked on with concern.

“What?” Targe asked.

Ethan was on the ground by now, trying to catch his breath. He tried to tell his friend a few times, but only after the fit of giggles subsided did he get the words out. “Luca tricked you into buying the beetle. So that we could haul a [Dungeon Core] down from the orcs.”

Targe folded his arms. “I don’t know whether to be offended or impressed.”

“I’m impressed,” Twist said.

Ethan wiped the tears from his eyes. “Alright, Luca. Where’s the nearest dungeon? Also, before you answer that. Are you going to eat the [Dungeon Core] to get stronger?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Cool, cool. Where’s the nearest one?”

“Half a day south of here. At the foot of the Fangstone mountains. Your friends are welcome to stay in my temple.”

Ethan read the subtext of that. He was always welcome to stay in the temple, whereas his friends were not. The quest to gather information on Parabaxis’ location ended too soon. The Caller was left with a feeling of aimlessness that was snuffed out. Luca gave him a new quest and they could start clearing out the orc dungeons. Win-win, right?

“Thanks. We appreciate it.”

“I can tip the scales of the dungeon within my sphere of influence,” Luca said, padding through the temple without aim. “Increase your rewards.”

Ethan rubbed his hands together. “Now you have my attention.”

Luca chuckled. “Rest here for the night. Bring your beetle within my temple. Raiding parties still pass through here.”

Without saying another word, the spirit vanished. Targe and Twist were left standing there with looks of confusion. Ethan explained the situation to them, and they didn’t seem hostile to the idea.

“You’re sure Void will last?” Targe asked.

“I’m not even certain I can form a pact with Parabaxis. Let alone get her to heal Void.” Ethan swung his pack to set it on the ground. “Since we have time, we should get gear and levels. It only makes sense.”

Twist scratched his chin underneath his mask. “Bit of a trip down south. Past the mountains. Not much of a road going that way.”

“There was a road through the mountain.” Targe removed his pack as well. “If we could blast through a few thousand orcs, we’d make it.”

“Not likely,” Twist said.

If Ethan was honest about his motives, he’d say gear was top on his priorities. Luca was offering to swing the pendulum in their favor. The Great Spirit had never lied to him. He was the reason the Caller even came to this world, so there was a debt there. Both Ethan’s life and his core were owed to the Great Spirit of Hope. Denying that would be like claiming he was dry, standing neck-deep in a lake.

The notion of debt would seem stupid to some. But he had a leg-up with a powerful spirit. He wouldn’t make more Great Spirit friends if he acted like a selfish child.

Ethan gave a brief tour of the temple, finding his old bed in one of the second-floor rooms. The leaves had long since wilted, and Targe had a laugh at the rudimentary arrangements. Twist held an expression as though he understood what it took to survive in hard conditions. The dark elf complimented the Caller for his resolve.

“Hard living is nothing to laugh at.” A darkness washed over Twist as he looked on. “Lingering doubts. Like the question laid bare here.”

“What happened to the temple,” Ethan said, stating the question. “Luca hasn’t told me. Not directly. He said it went into disrepair, but…”

“There’s more than just neglect here.” Targe was eager to finish that sentiment. “Both of you need to look more.”

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“I look plenty good,” Ethan said.

Targe pulled him by the arm, leading the pair downstairs. They planned to set up camp on the first floor this time and set watches. But the Fighter was eager to show them something outside of the pyramid-like temple. When they were outside, he gestured at the exterior. It was mostly overgrown, but sections of the stone were visible. When neither Twist nor Ethan saw what he was talking about, the man cleared away a section of vines.

“Interesting to see that you’re still blind,” Targe said, approaching the stone. He ran his fingers along the surface, where the individual stones were connected with mortar. Then he traced another path, cross-crossing each stone. The lines dug over the sections where the blocks connected.

“Tool marks?” Ethan asked, stooping low to inspect.

“Claws. Talons. Giant swords—who knows?” Targe gestured to the higher parts of the structure. “All over the building. Lucantele’s temple wasn’t neglected. It was attacked.”

“By what?” Twist asked, his voice dripping with doubt.

“I wouldn’t want to guess.” Targe said. His face held a grim expression. “Not within the realm of the spirit. If he wants to hold that information back, he has a good reason.”

“Bells isn’t ready. Yet,” Twist said.

There was one entrance large enough for the group to pull Tulip through. She was reluctant to do so at first, but with some encouragement from Targe she came through. Twist ran around the exterior of the building, deciding which doorways to guard during their nighttime vigil. Once everything was settled, the Rogue went south to do some scouting.

While there were hills directly to the south, the Fangstone mountains weren’t an immediate thing. Those mountains hardly poked up over the sprawl of the canopy, and there were no orcs in the immediate area. But there were plenty of [Dig Deer]. Ethan left Targe to fawn over his beetle. While his main cores couldn’t get experience by slaying the deer, Telbarantis could.

Spotting a deer in the distance, Ethan called forth the spirit. When he ordered his summon to attack, he lurched forward. The initial burst of speed was all the Symbol could manage, falling into an awkward lope. Unlike Luca, Tel was built for sturdy power. Not agility. What he lacked in speed was made up for in raw strength, though. Instead of taking shots at the deer errantly, he rushed in and grabbed the scoop-faced creature by the leg.

“Damn,” Ethan said, watching as Tel savaged the deer.

Once the deer broke free from the spirit’s grasp, it fell back and readied its scoop. Ethan ordered Tel to use [Bulwark], rooting him to the ground. The [Dig Deer] came in with its scoop-like antlers and tried to launch the Symbol. But Tel didn’t budge. Instead, he broke out of the ability and latched onto the deer’s neck, shaking until the monster hit the ground. When the deer tried to rise, he moved in again to finish the job.

“Why didn’t I start with you as my first summon?” Ethan asked. But he knew the answer to his question. “Yeah, I enjoy being a support summoner.”

Luca’s Symbol wasn’t meant to be a powerhouse in combat. If Tel faced off against an enemy stronger than him, he’d have to fall back on the [Bulwark] ability. Luca could avoid attacks easily, dodging around them, jumping into the air to get behind enemies, and other feats of agility that Tel just couldn’t manage. Ethan ran around the forest, murdering monsters to test the limits of his summon’s abilities.

The thing he learned was that his initial read was right. Tel was tanky as hell, and couldn’t be rooted from the spot without great effort. He came up with a strategy, using his experience in the [Corrupted Ant Dungeon] as reference.

Before, Ethan would send Luca to gain the attention of a monster in the rear. That monster would get pulled off, unable to interfere with the battle. The key was tight spaces and the need for agility. Hopping over the monsters would be impossible for Tel. Where the more tanky spirit came into play was situations where they already had control over the battle.

Ethan dismissed Tel and waited for his mana to regenerate before searching for another deer. This time, he cast [Summon Lucantele]. Giving orders only to attack the monster to get its attention, not to kill it, the Caller sent his summon in to a low-level [Dig Deer]. The deer followed the spirit, peeling away from the place he imagined his group. He saw Targe fighting a group of 3 other deer, Twist weaving around them. After a few moments, he dismissed Luca and cast [Summon Telbarantis].

In this scenario, Luca would have cast [Barrier of Hope] on Targe before heading off to distract the enemy. Ethan watched as the deer came for him, Tel springing from the ground in time to intercept the monster. He’d practice this with his group, making sure no one attacked his target while he made the swap. The Symbol tore into the deer, latching onto its leg and preventing it from moving.

So, Luca would have either died at the end of the hall or been dismissed. The ideal scenario would be one where he died. That would activate [Caller’s Resilience], giving Ethan 30 seconds of full [Mana Regen]. During that time, the monster would run back down the tunnel toward him. The Caller thought of this as juggling. He could repeat the process with another monster, sending them off to chase Luca and gaining his [Mana Regen] effect after the summon died.

This was only part of his grand strategy, though. The first step to something bigger. As Ethan expanded his access to Great Spirits, he’d expand his arsenal. Each spirit could bring a different supportive effect to the table. He envisioned changing summons during the battle to gain varied effects. The ideal support summoner.

“Practicing?”

Ethan spun around, finding Twist emerging from the underbrush. The Caller clutched at his chest, his heart rate spiking. He took a breath, then cleared his throat. “Working on strategy.”

“Back to the temple.”

Ethan finished up with his deer, following Twist through the forest. It felt like being home, under those expansive boughs. The light that filtered through dappled the forest’s floor with spots of bright green, illuminated browns. Skittering creatures, bugs, and birds made a chorus of peace that he’d missed. He couldn’t decide if it was this place of power, the seat of Lucantele’s power, or the wooded area itself that brought such peace. Likely both. While Oudsted was nice, it came with streets seething with humanity.

But that wasn’t the right word, was it? There were more than just humans in this world. Sapient things with a consciousness all their own. A community knit together by the need to survive against the monsters. That wouldn’t have worked back on Earth. Where cultures should have made thick patches in the fabric of humanity, they seemed to drive a spike. That, or Ethan was feeling homesick. Some mental gymnastics meant to drive his own spike between his old life and his new one.

“Ever miss your home?” Ethan asked.

“It is only natural,” Twist responded. “Even as it was.”

“Right? That’s what I was thinking.”

“Thoughts loud enough to stir the forest.”

The pair trudged down a gentle rise, spotting the temple shortly after.

“How was the scouting?” Ethan asked.

Twist waved the thought away with one hand, the other resting on a knife. “Nothing to speak of. The orcs remain south.”

“What’s the strategy with them?”

“For Targe to decide. Come.”

Tulip had settled in on the stone floor, Targe scrubbing at her shell. He seemed intent on keeping her clean no matter what. The beetle chewed on a length of meat, previously a [Dig Deer]. Ethan shivered, finding a spot away from the pair to settle down. Sleeping in the open section of the temple wasn’t something the Caller would do on his own. But if his companions, more experienced in adventuring, thought it was a good idea he wouldn’t complain. Unwilling to set out as dusk threatened, the group settled down to prepare meals and discuss strategy.

The orcs weren’t mindless things, but they were still creatures generated by the system. Classified as monsters, they followed a set of instructions. Twist explained what he knew from his brief scouting journey, only making it part-way down the valley that separated the temple and the Fangstone mountains to the south. The Fangstone Orcs had set up scouting camps close enough to the temple to threaten their safety.

Advanced planning like camps and perceived supply chains represented an intelligence that the monsters shouldn’t have had.

“They are driven, then,” Twist started, adding dried black tea leaves to his kettle. “Beyond what is normal for monsters.”

Targe let out a heavy sigh. “But we knew that, didn’t we? When we saved Bells.”

Twist offered a weak shrug in response.

The endgame was to completely wipe out the orcs. All their dungeons and whatever monsters were left on the surface. Ethan wasn’t certain they could accomplish that. He doubted their ability to kill every last orc, even if they were equal-rank. Even with the duke’s contract, he couldn’t see it happening.

“What tactic could we use to clear the orcs out? How long is this going to take?”

“This isn’t something you finish in a day,” Targe said. “But, there are standard procedures for scenarios like this. Push the monsters back, destroy their dungeon cores, repeat.”

“Sounds difficult.”

Targe rummaged through their supplies, sorting out vegetables, meats, and butter for their dinner. “But we only need to take out one dungeon. Luca wouldn’t send us to a Rank 2 dungeon… would he?”

“I don’t think so,” Ethan said. “Are we expecting Rank 2 orcs?”

“A scatter. They can show up even around a Rank 1 area. I’d imagine the center of the mountain would be at least Rank 3.” Targe watched Twist make the tea. The moment the kettle left the flame, he scooted the magical device over and placed a wide frypan on top. The butter went in first, then a scatter of herbs and salt. The Fighter held out his hand, casting a knowing look at Twist.

“You should use a knife appropriate for the task,” Twist said.

“Yours are sharper.”

Twist reluctantly handed over one of his two blades, his one eye narrowing.

Targe cut strips of meat off, letting them fall into the pan. The temple was filled with the scent of cooking game meat and browning butter. The Fighter jiggled the pan on the fire, flipping the lengths of meat before they could burn to the bottom. Next, he cut the vegetables. Carrots, a fatter version of Earth’s celery, and thin snake-like sprouts. Bean sprouts, maybe. The mixture sizzled for only a moment before he added watered wine from his wineskin. It sizzled louder for a moment, then reduced to a fierce boil. Then a simmer.

“Why is food so much better on the road?” Ethan asked, inhaling the mingling scents.

This was a dish that Targe was skilled at making. They had it over noodles, if they had fresh noodles, or hard bread. Either way, the result was a delicious mixture that always helped Ethan sleep.

“Because there’s no people,” Twist said.