Once Murr and the Guild Master had finished ironing out the terms, we left the building.
“We’re level 7 now. It’s time we get ourselves some new clothes and celebrate,” the rogue said.
I shook my head. “I’d rather save my money for better armor.”
Kron raised his hand. “And I have medical and alchemy books to buy.”
The catfolk scowled at us. “We have to look our best if we’re going to party. Come on, Sam. Are you planning to wear that lame green jacket everywhere?”
I rolled my eyes. “My clothes are fine. And I thought you would reconsider this whole thing after dealing with the Guild Master.”
He shook his head. “We’re going! And we’ll flaunt our success with style! My family owns a fashionable clothing store nearby.”
Kron’s glowing eyes narrow at the pink haired teen. “Are you trying to stick it to them again, for not bankrolling us?”
Murr stood on his toes to wrap his arm around the golem’s shoulders. “Kron, my friend, my healer. You know me so well already.” He pointed down the street. “Let's go break my parents’ wallets!”
“Fine,” I said. “But this is the only time we’re buying something this superfluous.”
“Look at our tank. Bringing out the big words.”
Dude... I was college educated! “Don’t look down on me. I know more spells than you. I could have been a mage.”
“Considering that you’re a tank,” Kron said, “probably a terrible one.”
Damn it. He got me.
***
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/949515587766329405/1044796015179464806/SPOILER_Group6.jpg]
By the time we’d dressed to the nines and stood in front of the inn courtesy of the Quince family’s carriage, it was already dark. The noise from the bustling common room reverberated out on the street.
“Why are we doing this again?” I asked.
“Murr’s petty revenge,” Kron said. “Also, because we want to celebrate.”
I gestured to our clothes… that admittedly, made us look good… if we were going to a fancy party and not one at the inn I was staying at. “We’re overdressed. We’ll look dumb.”
“Dumb level 7s,” Murr said with a grin.
“As impressive as it is, I’m pretty sure our leveling speed only makes that impression worse.” At least, that’s what it seemed like, considering the Guild Master’s reaction.
Kron held out his strange coat-cape combo. “Why did we have to wear matching colors again?”
Murr’s ears flattened. “We’re a team. We should dress like it.”
We looked at the rogue like he was crazy. Then he scowled at me. “I can’t believe you took off your vest.”
“It was uncomfortable. Too tight around the waist.”
“That’s what’s fashionable these days.”
“We’re destined to be combat classes, not socialite classes,” I pointed out.
“That’s not a thing,” Kron said.
Murr scowled and stood in front of us. “You think when we’re high level adventurers we won’t have to dress up and socialize?”
I shrugged.
He sighed. “Sam, only half of what level 300s and up do is go around to SS Rank dungeons and fight monsters. The other half — I’m sorry to break it to you — is socializing with other high rankers and fae nobles who’ve been around for centuries. Basically, politics.”
Was that really the case? Considering how my father ended up, it seemed like it.
“I hate this.”
Murr patted my shoulder. “Think about it this way: once you reach 300, you’ll be immortal. To stay that way, you’ll have to make sure the other immortals aren’t out to get you. And to do that, you socialize.” He waved his hands like he was creating a rainbow.
“I really hate this.”
“You’ll hate it worse if you go through four years of hell to end up dying by fae hands a few weeks later.”
“Fuck... Those nobles are going to eat us alive, aren’t they?”
“So,” Murr said, “think of this as practice and put your damn vest back on. It’s better we mess up in front of people who can’t chop our heads off because of an unconscious slight.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“There are laws preventing that, you know.”
“Then do you also want to become a frontier lord and retire early?” Murr said.
He must have put two and two together and figured out what happened with my parents. I scowled, but used my inventory to equip the vest without taking off my jacket.
The catfolk sighed. “I’m so jealous of that.”
Kron pulled his cape and my shoe tugged toward him. “Hey, Sam. Do you mind?”
I jumped off the cloth that dragged on the floor. “Why did you get something so damn long, anyway?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s mage fashion.”
“Alright, are we ready to do this?”
I nodded.
Murr opened the door and stepped inside.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/949515587766329405/1044796015552774205/SPOILER_Party_copy.jpg]
The inn was filled with familiar and strange faces. The heat from the bodies blasted into my face as we walked in. It smelled like perfume, sweat, and wine. At one table, my old friends held their drinks aloft and cheered each other. Someone came over and clinked their glasses, congratulating them on leveling.
Murr jumped onto a nearby table that had empty plates from people who’d just finished eating. He held his hands up and grinned like a crazy grifter. “Everyone! I have an announcement to make!”
“This is so dumb,” I whispered to Kron.
“More dumb than defeating a boss by getting hit in the balls?” Kron asked.
Touché. He’s won this second round.
Once the crowd quieted, Murr continued. “Everyone, I am pleased to announce that my team and I have defeated a wandering boss in a bunny dungeon and reached level 7.”
Most everyone gasped in shock.
Bradvin, Kimmi, Dos and Rava all stood up. They may have tried to come over to yell at us, but the crowd surged forward, surrounding us first.
“How?!” a catfolk girl in a silver dress asked.
“How what?”
“Did you defeat the boss?” a human girl cut in.
I began answering their questions as best as I could without going too deep into it. If I could avoid getting known as the dick-punch-and-level-guy, I would get through today happy.
***
After I answered more questions than I assumed anyone would think to ask, Kimmi finally made her way up to me, looking half furious and a fraction concerned.
“Samalrune! What the hell?”
I grinned at her. “Hi, Kimmi.”
“When we left you, you were level 4,” she hissed.
I nodded. “Isn’t it amazing what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it?”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then turned on her heel as if she couldn’t deal with me anymore.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me? I’m pretty sure I broke a record or something.”
She stopped, but didn’t turn back.
“Possibly even a record that was just made.”
She sent me a glare, then pushed through the groups of people that had grown as more folks arrived. Had they possibly heard about our record-breaking leveling speed?
I had to admit, considering how my old friends left me high and dry, being petty felt a tiny-bit good. Just a little.
A little while later, Dos made his way through. Since he was a massive guy, even for a golem, the crowd was quick to part for him. He loomed above me and crossed his arms. With the frown on his face, he would have intimidated me, except… “The boss we fought was ten times your size. I’m also two levels higher than you.”
“I can still wipe the floor with you, little Samalrune,” Dos said. “You didn’t have to upset Kimmi like that. She was just worried about you.”
“Considering how you three planned to abandon me, I really have to wonder if you actually care at all.”
He sighed. “We were going to help you find a more suitable team.”
“I’m not a puppy. I don’t need you to find me a new home because you can’t take care of me. All I did to Kimmi was point out my own success. If she took it like I was being mean, then that’s her problem, not mine.”
“You think that now you’re level 7, you can walk all over your friends?”
“When did I ever say that?”
He gestured to me, Kron and Murr, who obviously looked out of place. I knew that dressing up was a bad idea.
“That’s—”
“—obvious by the way you flashily arrived here and disturbed our party,” he interrupted.
I scowled. “I’m staying at this inn, too. It’s not like you rented out the whole common room.”
“But you came here knowing that we were celebrating our success.”
“That was...” Damn it, Murr. I searched for him in the crowd. He just finished talking to a small group, then he noticed my gaze and gave me two thumbs up for encouragement.
“I spoke up for you,” Dos said, "but you don’t even look remorseful for upsetting her.”
What was he going on about?
He glared down at me. “I challenge you to a Tank Off.”
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/949515587766329405/1044796014764245074/SPOILER_Dos.jpg]
A what? Was that a thing?
Silence fell over the crowd. It was so quiet that when someone dropped a coin, everyone turned to stare at the man, who awkwardly bent to pick up his coin and pay for his drinks.
Apparently, it was?
“What—“
Murr squeezed through the crush of people to grab my sleeve. He whispered, “Accept! This is a great opportunity to earn some reputation.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I whispered back.
“It’s where you two attack each other while defending an unarmed party member. Whoever gives up, has their party member take damage, or passes out, loses.”
“That sounds idiotic.”
“Welcome to being a tank.” Then he said loudly, “I volunteer as party member if Rava volunteers for you.”
“I’ll do it,” the amber eyed rogue said, then glared at the pink haired catfolk.
Murr leaned in and whispered, “Aim for her left shoulder.”
I ignored him.
“What’s the point of this?” I asked Dos. “If you win, you’ll gain satisfaction and I’ll be embarrassed? But if I win, I gain nothing?”
“You’ll keep your honor.”
“My honor is my own, my friend. No one can take it from me. However, if we’re talking about being dishonorable, then those who were my friends since childhood, who traveled with me for two months to reach here, only to reject me to find better team members… they need to have theirs questioned.”
A low “oooooo” sounded from the crowd.
“I challenge you to a Tank Off,” I said.
“Nice one!” Murr gave me a thumbs up.
“Oi, Ron!” The dwarven inn owner said, “Clear out the hole, we got a Tank Off!”
The cheers practically deafened me.