You could train for decades in the use of a sword. Hone your martial prowess and become a master duellist. Then some upstart with magical abilities sweeps the floor with you because you can’t block an explosion of ice or fire. This is why Ranks were drawn. The hard skills were still important, of course. Helped you in the day-to-day and in moving up in your Ranking, closer to the next taste of the pie. F Rank but no core skills was a short-lived Ranker. Practice doesn’t make perfect, but it got you one day closer to immortality.

It was with this in mind that I chose my two abilities. The active one - [Enrage] was a Barbarian staple, and you’d be hard-pressed to find a Ranker that didn’t pick it first. Martial prowess in a bottle for the cost of less defense. Therefore, my passive skill choice would have to be (Toughened Skin) to increase the damage I could take. Two abilities seemed like such a paltry amount to the total available to me as previously an S Rank. We didn’t even have Finishers yet.

Basil drummed his fingers on the magic book at his side as he made his selection, so I raised my eyebrows towards our Mage. She pulled a face before revealing her choices. [Fire Wall] and (Fire Resistance). The second seemed like a given, with her specialization being in fire magic. The wall had some uses and definitely wasn’t a bad choice - in truth, I had no clue what Mages actually got to select this far down in the Ranks. It had been a while.

Jakob had selected [Dual Shot] and (Increased Critical). Somewhat surprising given his natural ability was [Tracking], but if there was something Rangers did well, it was long-range kill-shots. I shuddered, remembering a time that had almost been my demise. I could still hear the shrieking noise the arrow made as it- no, that was something for a different day.

Basil eventually relented to choosing [Bless] and (Quicker Healing). With the book already granting him some magical ability, he didn’t need to waste his Rank on something like a basic [Heal]. The book had limitations, rather than being able to cast innately, sure, but the passive chosen made it less of a downgrade.

In seeing that we had all made our decisions, the elf stood straight to address us.

“Now that you are done, there is little more I can offer you. Do not squander your chance, and do not take unnecessary risks - I do not want to bury more F Rankers this month. Understood?”

We nodded in agreement.

“Then you are dismissed; make sure to get a new Quest from Clint before you leave - or before he falls asleep at the desk again.” She narrowed her eyes at the closed door as if the young man could hear her.

“Thank you,” I gave a gracious bow as we began to filter out.

Her eyes switched to me, and her expression remained of narrowed contempt. My face a grimacing smile, I backed away and shut the door behind me.

“Congrats,” Clint grinned, now looking slightly less burdened with our presence. Perhaps now we were considered kindred spirits after having to deal with his boss. “Ready to look through your next victim. Ah, target?”

He winced as though he had been chastised for his use of the v-word previously. I understood it. We were essentially state-sanctioned assassins. One of the reasons I had taken to it rather easily, I was sure.

“Yes, please, Clint,” I grinned at him. There was some excitement brimming within me - the anticipation of the trials and tribulations ahead. This was what we set out to do! I was truly alive once more.

Clint flicked through a stack of papers and withdrew three. “Got three for you guys in the local area - I mean, there’s actually more than that… but too many choices is overwhelming, right?”

“As long as it’s not just the most difficult ones,” Florence crossed her arms. “Don’t palm the harder cases off on us right off the bat.”

The young man bit his lip and looked a little flustered at being chastised by the woman. Slowly, he started putting one of the pages back.

“Nope,” I held out my hand, “that is the one we are doing, then.”

“Victor!” The mage threw up her arms in frustration. “Why, why do you have a death wish?”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Pah,” I leaned on the counter, which creaked in complaint, “how bad could it be?”

Basil rolled his eyes but took no side. Jakob had all but recoiled back into his shell, the shy and distant man from yesterday returned now that we were back in civilization.

I took the page and held it up, frowning at the picture.

Thankfully, I did not know this one - a minor blessing.

“F Rank, Peony the Corpseflower. Necromancer Botanist.” My face screwed up in a grimace as I tried to turn the page to make sense of the image. It looked like she was either half flower and half breasts, or the artist had really taken artistic liberty with her likeness.

“Let me see,” Florence grabbed it from my hand and scowled at it herself. “Who raises plants from the dead, honestly?”

“Why is this one such trouble, Master Clint?” Basil leaned past me to look at the clerk. “Seems like a Fire Mage would have no issue with this.”

My hand waved at my Party member as I nodded in agreement.

“You’d think so,” Clint rubbed the back of his neck, “but tell that to the three that never came back.”

“What’s the distance on it, Florence?” I turned and stood up straight. If a Mage couldn’t burn dead flowers, then there was something even more insidious afoot.

“About a day… and you can call me Flo if you so wish.” She didn’t look at me, but held the page back out for me to retrieve.

“You can still call me Jakob,” the ranger added, shrinking away from the Mage’s glare.

Sometimes they reminded me of my own children from a long time ago. Now those were sad memories unwanted on a day of celebration. “You’re both old enough to drink, correct?”

They both nodded - a reaction most likely still their answer even if they weren’t.

“Then how about we celebrate at the Copper Pot before we turn in for the day? How soon were you looking to do the new Quest? I am almost raring to go right now, but I can understand if you need a little more-“

“Victor,” Basil jabbed me in the side with a finger. “You are a being a little over-excited.”

“Ah! Apologies,” I gave the pair a short bow. “The Rank upgrade has gone to my head already.” I gave the genuine beam of a wide smile.

“It’s fine,” Florence returned a degree of my smile. “I’m looking forward to trying out my new abilities too.”

“If I may,” Basil raised a hand in an attempt to calm us down, “if the location is a day's walk, and we want to get started as soon as possible - why not hire a cart?”

The Mage wrinkled up her face. “It’s uh, mostly a matter of economic availability…”

“No worries,” I waved my hand. “Perks of being old - I have some savings.” I also hated walking long distances, a marriage of two boons sending us hurtling forward to a honeymoon of bloodshed.

“Drinks are on you then, yeah?” Jakob smiled beneath his messy hair as we stepped out of the building and into the cool air of the drab day.

Light rain continued to pelt the area - not confident enough for a proper downpour, but still making a showing of making some effort. Most of the streets were clear of people, aside from the occasional body hurrying through to somewhere warmer.

“Certainly, my treat.” I smiled out to the clouds. Not the worst of days, and until something came to kick mud in my eye, I would dare say I was enjoying myself.

“I am not one for drinking,” Basil tapped at his religious symbol, “but I will join for the company.”

Of course, the real reason was that he was a living skeleton - so our decision for him to be a Cleric had merits when it came to abstinence from certain vices. I was not so unlucky, although the amount of alcohol it took to make a dent in my constitution would perhaps bankrupt the meager savings we had brought along with us.

We hailed the barkeep on our entrance to the warm glow of the inn. There always seemed to be a good number of patrons within, either for social comfort or escapism from the dreary life outside. Although my knowledge of the societal cogs of mortal life was rather rusty, it appeared odd that a lot of these working-age folk were here and not off wasting their short existence in some dead-end occupation. Harsh of me to judge, perhaps.

Basil arranged for the room for tonight and made the order for three ales. We sat beside a window so I could watch the raindrops run down the muted pane. I always had some affinity with the gloom of oppressive rainfall, even in my new life. In some weird way, it helped cool the constant pain in my chest, where the Badge had been absorbed. Once we were alone, I would need to ask Basil if he felt the same. No doubt it was something due to my heritage, fighting against the Hero's life.

“So, how old are you, Victor?” Jakob sat with his chin in his palm, also staring out into the rain.

I rolled my tongue across my teeth as Basil sat down with the mugs, and I gave him a short nod of thanks. “How old do you think I am?”

The Ranger turned his gaze toward me and brushed his messy hair from his eyes. “Forty-five?”

“Close,” I nodded. “Forty-two.” He was pretty close, just off by a factor of ten or so.

“Really?” Florence pulled her mug closer. “I would have said late thirties. Like you, uh, seem to be doing okay for your age?” She physically cringed at the wording of her compliment.

“Good genes, but thank you.” I looked back out into the grey skies to allow her freedom from any awkwardness. “Naturally, I was gifted, but I had been using my skills for a more mundane life… but you can’t avoid the call to action forever.”

“I’m nineteen, Flo is twenty - she is two weeks older than me.” Jakob jostled from his palm as the Mage pushed his shoulder. “And doesn’t like being reminded of it.”

“Ah, your birthday is soon then? At my age, the years don’t mean much, but we’ll celebrate for you both in…”

“Six days,” the Ranger nodded.

“To six more days of living then,” we raised our mugs in toast.