We recovered incredible loot from the dead rankers.

Aside from the items they had stolen from the Primal Rock Lurker, the enemy party carried a load of potions, monster cores, gear, and beddings among themselves.

Paz kept the Greater monster core but abandoned the Rock Heart, which I promptly offered to Nicola. The rest we split among ourselves, especially the potions, which would have cost me an arm and a leg to purchase on my lonesome.

Paz kept to himself for the most part, stewing in silence. We’d need to sit at some point and settle our differences, but he had my gratitude for sticking with the team.

I couldn’t afford to lose a teammate less than one week after forming the party. Forget about invading the Labyrinth, I’d die of humiliation if Byron ever found out.

The dead Rangers both wore boiled leather armor, nothing special by the looks of it, but still better than anything I owned. Their bows, however, were the pick of the lot. Common tier, according to [Identify], so I bundled them together with their armor even though none of us could shoot for shit.

Nicola grabbed a staff that Paz had emptied out of the Warlock. “Woah. This is ranker-grade.”

I inspected it from over her shoulder.

Staff of the Novice Mage [Common].

A special item made from deridum wood.

Adds 5 damage to magical attacks.

Requirement: [2].

“Not bad,” I said, after relaying the contents of the infobox.

Nicola beamed. “An extra five damage can mean a world of difference between death and survival. Anything that offers more power is sure to help.”

“Sucks that we can't use these though." I gestured at the bows. "They should fetch you some coin, at the very least. You better take them.”

Nicola pursed her lips. “Damien—”

“Did any of you gain levels from all of the fighting?” I asked before she could turn down the offer.

Nicola nodded slowly. “I’m level eighteen. Between killing two primals and a bunch of rankers, the [System] would probably offer great technique choices to me at level twenty. You?”

“Level seventeen. Not quite what I wanted. But, I’ll take whatever we get.”

Paz didn’t join the discussion. But, [Identify] put his new level at a whooping level 15 . . . which ultimately meant nothing, considering the enemies we needed to deal with.

Nicola gathered all the money we had collected into a single pouch. “Sixty silver and change. I guess we’ll split this three-way?”

“You can take my share,” I offered.

Her new staff landed on my head with a bonk. “No, Damien. And, don’t bring that up ever again.”

“But, I don’t need it.”

“You would. Dungeon runs require extensive preparations.” She glanced at Paz who didn't bother returning her gaze. “We could also use the money to shop as a collective. Potions are first on the list, but food and gear are equally important.” She tossed the coin pouch into her inventory. “I can't stress the former point hard enough. The last thing you’d want to do is run out of potions in the Labyrinth.”

“What about armor?” I interjected. “Ranker-grade. That could help boost our chances.”

“We don’t have nearly enough money. And, we'll find better items in the Labyrinth anyway.”

“Regular armor, then. For you and Paz.” I squinted at her. “Casters can use armor, right?”

“Everyone can use anything that doesn't come with requirements, which is the one feature that differentiates ranker-grade items from run-of-the-mill gear." She spun her new staff, testing its girth. "I personally don't care much for protection—"

"Ha ha."

Nicola bonked me again on the head. "Seriously, Damien. Dungeon runs are grueling exercises, making stamina a precious resource. Casters already struggle to keep up with other classes in that regard. No point worsening the handicap.'”

I rubbed my head. “That leaves you in charge of purchases, then.”

"I'll make a list. Now, come on. We need to leave. If a second party followed the sounds of fighting, things could quickly get ugly for the three of us."

That spurred us into action. We legged it back to camp with Paz bringing up the rear.

Yeah, we definitely needed to talk. Me and that redheaded oaf.

I found him the next morning meditating near the spawning ground of the Primal Rock Lurker.

The defeat of the primal had put a halt to the continuous presence of its lesser cousins. A fact I appreciated, seeing as I’d since grown tired of beating on rocks.

Paz frowned as I approached. “You’re not as stealthy as you think, Damien.”

“And, you’re not meditating,” I countered. “Or else, you wouldn’t have noticed.”

I stopped a respectful distance away, to avoid invading his personal space, and leaned against a boulder after double-checking to ensure it didn’t hide teeth. [Meditation] sometimes caused old memories to rise to the surface. Was that Paz’s aim? To relive a long-forgotten event?

Paz kept his back to me. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping to talk to you.”

“If this is about yesterday—”

“Screw yesterday. I have bigger questions than that.”

That elicited a reaction.

“Who are you, Paz?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean exactly what I said.”

"And, this is important because?"

“Because I'm curious. Your level says fifteen, yet your confidence says one hundred and fifty. Not to mention, for a homeless bum, you know more about the [System] than people like Nicola.”

“I had great teachers.”

“You are nobility.”

Paz did more than stiffen this time. He turned around.

I did my best to restrain a smirk and effected a shrug. “Hey, don’t look at me that way. It’s evident in your outlook on life.”

“I didn’t say you were right.”

“Well, yeah. It’s the only explanation that fits. You talk a big game for someone who tries his utmost to come across as a lout.” I raised my fingers as I listed my points. “You speak about topics like purpose, destiny, and respect with a hint of personal experience.

“You hide a degree of sophistication beneath a thin veneer of social indecency.” I gave his naked torso a pointed look. “Why does such a large disparity exist between your character and personal power?”

“And, what about you?” Paz rebutted, letting go of his pose. “Why does one of the dulië have less knowledge about the [System] than dumb human children?”

Oi.

“You speak about forming a party,” Paz said, “for reasons best known to you. You sometimes use strange terms that I have trouble understanding. No one else in recent memory can boast of a fraction of your gifts. How do I reconcile these facts with the image you present of a young, unassuming elf?”

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

“I promise you: the ‘young, unassuming’ part is not a ruse.”

Paz regarded me with hungry eyes. “I haven’t earned the right to be privy to your secrets, Damien. And, neither have you earned the same from me. Let’s not pretend to be more transparent with each other than we are.”

“So, about the fight from yesterday . . .”

“I thought we agreed not to speak on that.”

“We never did,” I said with a winning smile. “I can respect the fact that you feel strongly about some issues—no matter how inane I consider them to be. What I cannot tolerate is your near assault on Nicola. That slip-up cannot go unaddressed.”

Paz waved his hand in disinterest. “I won’t apologize for who I am, Damien. The only way to prevent a recurrence is to issue my death.”

“And, I would, should this ever reoccur.”

“You think you can kill me?” Paz snapped.

“You have a free resurrect to fuck around. And, find out.”

We held each other’s gaze.

“You actually mean it,” Paz said with awe in his voice. “You wouldn't succeed, of course, but that's not a big deterrent. You care enough about the woman to try.”

“I care enough about the both of you,” I said, jutting my chin. “The least I ask from you in return is some reciprocity. You have demons that you need to deal with, but so does everyone else. Keep that in mind, okay?” I allowed my words to sink in. “And, who knows, if you earn my trust, I might just reveal my secrets sooner than you think.”

Paz narrowed his eyes.

“Spar?” I asked because he would rather lose his fingers than concede my point.

Paz nodded slowly.

We spent the rest of the day hitting each other a little harder than necessary. Paz started smiling again at some point, mostly because I took the larger share of hits.

He had a simple outlook on life: a belief that differences could be settled with the exchange of fists.

A nagging thought plagued me, regardless.

If I struggled this hard to deal with two clashing personalities, how the hell was I supposed to handle a party of ten?

A problem for another day, surely. But, social interactions posed a bigger hurdle to an inept like me than any apocalypse . . .

We returned to Skeelie on the morning of the seventh day. Our levels weren’t anywhere close to the numbers we desired, but they would need to suffice.

The Skeelien Labyrinth opened five hours before midnight, leaving us with barely enough time to shop, shower, and rest.

Skeelie had morphed in the time we’d been gone. Ribbons and people in fine livery brightened the streets, matching the pavilions set up in honor of the event. The number of street traders had also doubled in the interim. Everyone with a goose or pot to sell filled all corners of the streets.

A three-day carnival had roared in our absence, with canopies extending beyond the city walls. Armored guards patrolled within and around the city—an exercise in futility, considering the high volume of traffic.

I glanced at the huge spire in the distance and then at my teammates who followed at a sedate pace. We looked downright haggard in comparison to the merry-goers and managed to draw a few disgusted looks—though most of that was because of me.

I wasn’t about to retire yet despite smelling like a swamp. Aside from the chore I’d drawn, I also had a matter that needed addressing at the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Meet up near twilight at The Naked Bard?” I offered.

Nicola nodded. She had been put in charge of purchasing potions, an endeavor she had pegged at fifty pieces of silver. Paz had volunteered to secure food items with our leftover coin, leaving me with the job of selling loot or trading them for armor.

Nicola gave Paz the evil eye. “I better not see a lick of alcohol among your purchases.”

“You won’t see a lick then,” Paz rebutted. “I’ll buy out the bar.”

“Why you—”

“How much can you eat in a week anyway? But, no need to nag. I'll stick to your list.”

That was another thing I’d learned. The Labyrinth opened for one hour at twilight and wouldn't open again until three hours had passed.

It meant that the final event of the Skeelien Festival lasted a total of five hours with one small problem: Time flowed differently within the Labyrinth. From the moment of the closing of the dungeon to its re-opening, all rankers would have been trapped inside for an entire week.

Neither Paz nor Nicola understood the exact mechanics. But, a week in the dungeon equaled three hours in real-time.

Just accept it, Paz had said with a small chuckle.

But, wasn't that some kind of [System] exploit? If grinding for one week in the Labyrinth cost no more than three hours on the clock, then the dungeons of Vizhima held the key to preparing for the apocalypse.

It had to be an intentional gift on the [System]’s part. But, as with all things, future problems were best reserved for later. I needed to survive my jaunt in the Labyrinth first.

Only then would I decide my next few moves.

We separated soon after.

I strode down the winding streets and alleys of Skeelie until I located the general goods store—the same one that had welcomed me on my first day in the city.

Liliana grinned at me from behind the counter, dressed again in a sleeveless shirt that showed off her biceps. “You! How is it that you always arrive here looking as tattered as possible? I’m not into that kink.”

I rolled my eyes at the redhead. “I’m here to browse your wares. And, maybe sell some stuff if you are interested?”

“I’m not a pawn shop. Neither do I serve any longer as a fence for the Thieves. My goods are all legitimate.”

“Wait. What thieves?”

Liliana simply winked.

Ugh. I did not have time for this. “Can you give a rough estimate of the worth of these items?” I dropped the bows onto the counter.

Liliana studied them, then peered at my face. “These are ranker-grade.”

“Both Common tier, yes.”

“You kill any of our people for these?”

“Uh . . . What if I said I found them in the wild?”

Liliana snorted. “Right. Ranker-grade items are always in demand, though I don’t care enough to dabble in the trade. I can introduce you to a cousin who deals in armaments—”

“Where is he located?”

“And, you best prepare your fine behind to spend the whole day haggling, because people with the Merchant class never pass up the chance to finagle a profit.”

I didn’t have a choice. “I’ll take my chances.”

Liliana paused to regard me. She crossed her arms and leaned over the counter. “You’re challenging the Labyrinth, aren’t you? That’s the reason you visited Skeelie?”

“Not really . . . but, yes. I intend to participate.”

“You know that half of the adventurers who go in there don’t make it back alive?”

“You might have mentioned that the last time we spoke, yes.”

“So, why do it?”

Because of the numbers. Because of a friend. Because the apocalypse was but one year away, and I was going to put that bastard Byron in his place if it was the last thing I did.

Liliana’s eyes widened. “It’s you, isn’t it? You are the elf that got the adventurers in a tizzy. The one who smacked that idiot, Byron.”

Eh?

“Word travels fast in the city, especially among us merchants.” She clapped her hands. “Tell you what, Mr. Dark Elf—”

“Damien.”

“Very well, Damien. I’m going to take a gamble on you. Enter the Labyrinth. And, if you make it back alive, I’d buy everything you find.”

“I thought you claimed you were no longer a fence.”

“Hey, nothing wrong with doing business. And, good business is business that brings all the right profits." She tapped the counter. "I’ll be charging a small commission on the sales and placing real money on the dark horse everyone else overlooks. If you manage to knock down one of those ranker snobs in the process, I’d consider it a win.”

I mused over her words. Complex relationships were not my forte, thanks to my former life as a loner, yet even I could tell that she hid her true desire. What was it about the city’s adventurers that bothered her so?

Well, whatever. The other shopkeepers in the city simply slammed doors in my face. “Deal. But, I still need to sell these bows. Or turn them in for fair pieces of armor.”

“My dear Damien,” Liliana said and puffed strands of red hair out of her face. “If there’s anything this shopkeeper is known for, it’s that her business is almost always fair. Tell me what you’re looking for. And, I will try to arrange a trade, no problem.”

I sighed and plucked Nicola’s list out of my inventory.

I returned to the inn for a shower and a nap. This time they had no free rooms, considering the volume of guests. However, the innkeeper was kind enough to rent me a bath stall and a small mattress in the cellar for a few hours.

I awoke after midday and changed into my stolen leather armor. Then, striking out into the city, I made for The Naked Bard tavern.

The large traffic from earlier emptied out of the streets, flowing toward the spire down south for the night’s main event. It left The Naked Bard devoid of patrons, save for my party and a single drunk snoring in the corner.

The Adventurer’s Guild was also barred at this hour, though if that was a result of the time or the day’s festivities, I couldn’t tell. It had been open when I’d stopped by earlier to visit.

Paz and Nicola looked up as I entered. They’d both cleaned up and changed their clothes, though, in Paz’s case, a wardrobe change meant a new pair of pants and rundown wooden sandals. No shirt, whatsoever. He tended to discard them anyway.

Nicola sat in her most risqué outfit yet: a see-through robe that revealed the suction cups she’d placed over her unmentionables.

She noticed my bulging eyes and turned away. “Sorry. I’m going to need all the Eros I can get.”

“It’s alright,” I said and waved at a barmaid. “I procured a cuirass and gauntlets for you with the sizes you ordered. Simple medium armor too for Paz.” I glanced at his footwear. "And, boots."

“It’s all useless,” Paz moaned. “We’re better off showing up naked. We’ll find better gear in the Labyrinth.”

“Well, until then, we shouldn’t risk our lives. Your sorry ass also needed a polearm, so take this as a treat. You can thank me later.”

Paz eyed the poleaxe that I presented him with disdain. “Regular iron? This will shatter after the first few strikes on ranker-grade armor.”

“Still more expensive than anything you could afford.”

The barmaid rushed over with three tankards of beer.

“So, one week in hell,” I said, grabbing a drink. “We have three goals: Emerge alive, secure the dungeon egg, and ensure Byron never bothers us again . . . or anyone for that matter.”

“I propose a fourth goal,” Paz said, reaching for his tankard. “We do all that while ensuring to have as much fun as possible.”

I ignored him.

“To a week in hell,” Nicola said in an almost whisper.

“To a week in hell,” we repeated, making a toast.

I downed the bittersweet drink and wiped the froth from my lips.

Then, exchanging grim nods, Damien’s Protection Party marched out of the tavern.