The trek back to the Room of Beginnings was easy compared to everything that happened. Perhaps that was for the best, too. Our entire group was getting used to the feeling of tangible energy running through our bodies, and Wayland had directed us back to the entrance.

On the way back, I paid specific attention to the tunnels, hoping that there was some tell or sign, other than the literal signs, that showed the way back. And iIt was moments of silence like these that put into perspective how out of our league we were compared to others who had lived in the Dungeon for a while. We had effectively passed through multiple forks in the cavern to get to our destination, and the whole path made me think we were going in circles rather than straight.

Still, where I had no hope of deciphering the pathways without the help of the actual signs, everyone else was pretty much in the same boat. Well, that was if Julio’s conversation with Diane was to be taken at face value.

The man was pretty hopeless in all aspects. I had thought that Wayland’s previous remarks about him were rather uncalled for, but the man was constantly testing everyone’s limits with everything he did. He had even directly asked Wayland which energies he should choose, however he had chosen both even when he had been told that he wasn’t suitable for it. Honestly, I was beginning to think that Marcus’ friend simply wanted to think himself some sort of protagonist in a novel as he went on about different magic he thought he could finally do.

Luckily, it was Diane that got the worst of his grandstanding, and because of that I was left to moderate silence while we walked.

That calm was finally interrupted when we made it to the entrance, and I suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Cool air rushed into my lungs as I stared off at the green pastures that surrounded the mismatched town at the end of the long, dirt road. Idly, I stepped onto the path, and felt like my legs became a bit like jelly. After all, this was a road that many had walked on, yet there were an uncountable number that had never come back.

“I will take my leave here,” Wayland said, turning to me and nodding. “I wish you the best of luck.”

Just like that the elf left us, his footsteps trailing leading back to the middle of the town. Julio and Diane let out sharp breaths as they saw our watcher finally leave, and I found Marcus smiling bitterly as Julio hung off of his shoulder for support.

“I’ll take Julio and Diane back to their places so they can rest.” Marcus paused and searched his pocket with his free hand, taking out a broken beak and a couple of feathers. “Here. It’s thanks for helping me out.”

A bit of guilt filled the back of my throat. “I- I can’t take this. It’s yours, and I didn’t really do much. You killed them, after all.”

“Which is why I’m taking some for myself. Don’t worry, I didn’t spend my entire two months here just sleeping, eating and training. People are pretty lenient on Newbies for about a month or two; enough time for me to learn a bit.” Marcus explained with a smile.

“I guess that makes sense…” I reluctantly took what was given to me. It was odd that everyone kept thinking I knew what I was doing when I was panicking. “Thank you.”

Marcus smiled again, and I felt that he had quite a nice one. The type of smile that looked at the world and only saw the best in it. “No problem! And, if you’re in need of a party to go into the Dungeon, my friends and I won’t mind making space for you. Don’t feel too pressured to accept, though; I understand that you might have different thoughts.”

“I’ll think about it… I guess.”

I knew my answer was wishy-washy at best, and from the apologetic smile Marcus offered, I could tell he lost confidence in my recruitment. However, there weren't any hard feelings as we separated to go our own ways.

In fact, the Dungeon had a weird way of making sure everyone stayed focused on it instead of pointless infighting. It was a fact that almost everyone noticed when we first arrived. Almost everyone seemed like they were made to either get along well or simply ignore the problems of others to the point that they dismissed quarreling entirely.

I would like to say I was an outlier on the account that I don’t want to be associated with people constantly seeking their own death for something I consider pointless, but I had to accept that fact that I still got up and followed everyone else. Whether it was the orders of our trainer or the expectations of the people who came before us, I simply choose to listen and follow.

Something good will happen if I just listened and followed, after all.

My thoughts were a blur of self gratification and meaningless attempts at stroking my resolve when I arrived at the building to turn in my spoils of my first Dungeon delve. The place wasn't as odd as most buildings around the town; being built in a similar style to most medieval, european establishments that I remembered reading about once upon a time.

Its walls were stones that seemed to be cut into large blocks, stacking together inside a frame of deep, brown wood. Clear, clean windows lined the outer walls at even intervals, and I could make out the fact that there were two floors to the whole thing. Slowly, I walked up to the wooden double doors of the place, taking a moment to rein the boiling anxiety that festered in my gut as I got closer.

It was a momentary flash, barely even registering before I got over it. Saying a mantra of ‘I’m supposed to be here’ I quietly stepped through the doors, finding myself face to face with the terrifying eyes of our previous trainer.

Well, not really face to face; more like, the man was a little bit to my right, sitting behind a countertop. Honestly, if it wasn’t for the fact that I had a door I could escape from immediately, and that the massive beastman wasn’t even looking at me, I probably would have made a louder squeak than I did.

No, not squeak. It was a manly yell that might have been a higher pitch than normal.

“Not so loud, Newbie,” he sighed, and the furry ears at the top of his head twitched. “Really now, how can you go into the Dungeon without screaming at every little thing if you’re scared of me?”

“Sorry…”

The beastman just tapped the counter with his massive hands, and I became painfully aware of the claws that extended from where his fingernails should be. “Don’t be sorry, just don’t do it again. Anyways, you’re one of the last groups to get back, so where’s the rest of your sorry lot? They all didn’t get crippled, right?”

“N- no, sir,” I managed to say, swallowing a bit of saliva that was beginning to build up along with my anxiety. “And, they went to rest first. A c- couple were injured, and needed to get off their feet.”

“That so? You didn’t need to rest either?” I shivered as I felt his gaze trail up and down my body. It was almost like a predator sizing up his next meal.

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“N- no, sir. I wanted to turn these in.”

I hid a sigh of relief as his gaze turned to the Featherkin items I pulled out. There was a bit of warmth that built up on my cheeks as he hummed in what I thought was approval. Of course, it was a mistake if he judged me highly, but it felt nice to have some of my efforts appreciated by someone much stronger than me.

“Not bad for the first time.” He nodded, looking back up. “Who was assigned to you; your protector, I mean. Also, lose the ‘sir’, it gets annoying after a while.”

“Yes, si- I mean, right. And, it was Wayland.” I paused as the beastman frowned, and I felt a little apprehensive at the change in expression. “I- is that a problem? He didn’t seem too bad, but I heard he was called the ‘Butcher’ of something, I think.”

“Oh, little Way told you his nickname?”

I nearly laughed at the childish name the beastman had given the abnormally serious and quite frankly terrifying elf. “No, I heard it from someone else, and he… seemed to live up to that name quite well.”

My back went vertical as I heard what sounded like a growl coming from the beastman in front of me. “Really now?” he spoke slowly, emphasizing his teeth in the action. “I guess I need to tell that idiot not to spook the Newbies next time I see him, huh…” his frown returned as he looked over me again. “You picked ‘potential,’ didn’t you?”

If I wasn’t so confused at how he figured it out, I probably wouldn’t have been more terrified at his frown. “Yeah, our protector told me to, and he seemed like he knew what he was doing. D- did I make a mistake?”

“Chances are, yes. You made one hell of a stupid decision.” I flinched at the declaration as he continued ranting into the air. “That idiot… its one thing to regret, but pushing something onto this guy? He’s not that stupid… no, he’s a nuthead with more talent than reason.”

I found myself slightly intrigued by how many things the beastman had to say about Wayland. Most of them were in the form of curses, but there wasn’t much information to go off. All I could gather was that something happened to Wayland that caused him to want both energies. However, whether that meant he was projecting his past self onto me was besides the point, and figuring out what had happened to the elf was also out of the equation as it seemed personal.

In the first place, I needed to ask the important question. “Um, excuse me, did I do something wrong?”

The beastman sighed. “Yeah, sorry about that pointy eared idiot. He was a genius that everyone agreed should have chosen potential instead, and he blames everything on his decision to the point where he’s considered pretty unreasonable.” He looked over at me, sighing again to himself. “It seemed that he thought you might regret it if you didn’t pick what he failed to pick.”

“That seems,” I swallowed the fear that was building up as the conversation progressed. “A little overbearing, right. Can’t I go change it? I’m not too sure on this inner and outer energy stuff, but wouldn’t it be simple to just go back. There didn’t seem to be that many enemies to get to the ro-”

“First off, shut up, boy.” I shut up immediately. “I’m gonna run this by you real quick, so listen well. What the Dungeon does when it gives you your energy paths is something no one has been able to figure out, and when I say no one I mean every single person for the last millennia or so since we started recording the history here. It’s basically optimizing your body to either one or both. There’s a trade off eventually, but once you make your decision, you can’t erase your Trait.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off , stealing the question and answer. “You might ask yourself, ‘why can’t I get the inner paths then the outer paths by going there a second time?’ I’ll tell you that the Traits don’t mix well; its one of those ones where instant death is involved. Your body will be unable to handle getting optimized for the singular mastery of both energies, and will, without fail, blow up. Trust me, I’ve cleaned enough idiots off the walls to know its a bad idea to try what you’re thinking.”

The words Wayland told me about some Traits not working well with others rang in the back of mind. However, I was busy understanding how much I might have been screwed over by my protector to present a reasonable thought. “B- but, maybe it’ll work out, right? If I just work hard enough, then I can- well, Wayland said hard work can help, right?”

The frown on the beastman’s face was damning. “A genius’ hard work is different from ours.” I found his eyes losing their sharpness, and the danger I felt from him became a soft mewl in the background. “Look, I’ve seen and trained quite a bit of humans. Getting optimized for both energies effectively reduces their potency by half in most cases, and the only positive is only if you can live long enough to bring that to fruition.”

I found myself finally looking up to the beastman’s face. Whatever was making me see him as the most dangerous predator in the room had faded with the mood, and I realized that he looked old. Liver spots and wrinkles cut grooves of age into his features. There was a sort of juxtaposition as his body looked like it was built for war while his face seemed like it had lived through the worst of it.

“I- thank you,” I finally said. It wasn’t like he was the reason for what happened, and seeing him so shaken for me was something that broke my heart a little. “I’ll uh, try to survive anyways. I mean, you said there was a positive eventually, right?”

My heart was only half into my words, but the old man seemed to perk up anyways. “Like a fresh kid like you would survive long enough till then. You’re talking at least until you get to the third floor, boy.” Though his words were harsh, there seemed to be a smile on his face. “But, let me find you a team that’s looking for Newbies to train up. Normally, they look for those smart enough to seek out veteran teams for support, but everyone here owes me a favor.”

“You don’t have to if its too much trouble! I’m fine with trying to find my own way.”

“No can do, boy,” he grinned, emphasizing the last word. “Think of it as an investment. The Dungeon and I say you barely got a couple weeks till you die somewhere, but prove me wrong. I’ll even throw in an incentive: you survive for two months, and I’ll show you how to throw a punch.”

“I already know how to throw a punch.” I said.

“Right, but its not an Art.”

I blinked at his declaration. It was almost like I heard the capitalization in how he said ‘art.’ Part of me was almost sure of it, and I didn’t know if it was a good thing or bad thing. No, I was being too optimistic about this whole thing. In the first place, the whole deal seemed to be too skewed in my favor for some reason.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “I don’t think I did anything special.”

“No, you’re perfectly normal. In fact, you’re so normal that I’d say you’re irregular to the type of people we normally get.”

“Thank you?” I asked again. This had to be an insult, right?

My confusion seemed to be more apparent as the old man laughed. “Let me tell you this: the Dungeon only selects those that have the willpower or idiocracy to continue the Dungeon despite the danger. Those criteria are the only things it looks for. In that case, you are an outlier.”

Now, I was sure he was insulting me. He had implied that I had no willpower to continue the Dungeon on my own. I’d like to think he was wrong, but I knew my willpower was pretty damn abysmal for some reason. Of course, he also said that I wasn’t stupid enough to forgo the dangers of the Dungeon. However, I felt I had to be indignant for Julio’s sake.

Still, it was a little odd for him to say that the Dungeon selects people, but it asks why I was selected on my own status.

“Perhaps I just wanted to be the old and powerful trainer to a future legend.” The beastman began again, his smile showing more teeth than anything. “Its either that, or you’ll end up dying and no one will know. Though perhaps, maybe I just want to welcome you to the Dungeon. After all, hospitality isn’t this place’s strong suit.”

While his words were a rollercoaster to my self esteem, it was maybe the warmest welcome I would get to the Dungeon in the first place. In any case, I smiled at the sentiment.

“Then, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me till you at least have a couple achievements on your belt, boy.” He grinned, putting his meaty fist out to me. “By the way, the name’s Gilcrest Thunderclaw, the last of the Thunderclaw clan. Most people call me old man Thunderclaw.”

My mind blanked as I recognized that name. Gilcrest seemed like quite a celebrity, and for some reason I had attracted his attention. I didn’t know whether I was lucky in this situation or unlucky to even be put in the situation in the first place.

In the end, I just accepted everything. It certainly wasn’t my choice, but sometimes it wasn’t so bad.

The knuckles on my fist met his as I smiled, feeling butterflies in my stomach. “Glen Deis.”