"Are ye' sure this is the only way Princess?" Donbar was still carrying Ophelia on his back, and as she was our only scout, his sense of caution was now at its highest.

"The Minotaur is not far off. Fortunately, the path to the tenth floor entrance is rarely guarded."

Naturally. Who would want pesky beasts disturbing their territory? I for one, would have shown no mercy to any errant trespassers.

Mei beckoned us towards a forlorn pillar. "We can rest here."

"Wait." I moved with confidence towards the stone outcropping, and with slow deliberation, felt the outlines of its shape with my fingertips, as if it were my star-crossed lover. "I think it's fine. I don't sense any traps."

"Oh! Who would have thought you were a young Rogue?" Donbar marveled at what he believed to be a [Disarm] skill.

Of course I have no such skill. I was simply prepared to lose a few fingers, even an arm if necessary, to ensure the safety of my party. I can simply regrow a lost limb, but such a skill would normally be unattainable for an adventurer of the lower ranks. My cover would be blown in an instant.

Perhaps I can rely on Mei's healing prowess?

"Haha. I'm just being careful-" I had tried to make light of the situation but Mei suddenly spun me around and drew her face uncomfortably close to mine.

"We risked our lives to save yours! So, don't ever take such foolish risks. Would you want our efforts to be in vain?"

"I-I suppose not."

Donbar, never one to be dismayed by a tense mood, pushed his way between us. He seated Ophelia upright, with her back against the pillar's smooth surface.

I unceremoniously plopped down the massive rucksack that we looted from our dearly departed hero.

Mei did no more than relax her shoulders, and began waving her hands in a meticulous fashion. Her eyes were closed and her lips trembled with fervor as she spoke in a mystic tongue. Moments later, a vivid assortment of ethereal lights began to dance from her fingertips. I could only assume she was casting buffs. Although losing one's mind was not entirely out of the question.

Insanity is an exquisite dish. It is not often that I taste it.

I heard a sharp, metallic click.

Donbar had refilled the miniature crossbow affixed to his left arm. I had seen him fire it twice already, with extreme efficacy, but perhaps two bolts was its storage limit? A serious drawback for an otherwise powerful weapon.

He noticed my appraisal and smiled with a glint in his eyes.

"Don't worry lad. The Minotaur won't prove a challenge. I nicked him once. I can do it again!"

I shared a laugh with Donbar, allowing myself to be taken in by his charming bravado.

Mei used these few moments of respite to dig through Malachi's mysterious rucksack. She had unwound the thick strings and plunged her arm inside, up to the point of her elbow before she made a loud yelp and suddenly withdrew it.

"That's one nasty trap." Donbar's ill-timed comment was met with a furious glare.

Streaks of blood, patterned the sides of her forearm like a crimson flower in bloom. It was obviously the work of magical razors.

"How about it Donbar? Would you like to try? Are you dwarf enough?" Mei seemed to hate being caught in a mistake even more then having her arm caught in a bed of razors.

"Don't mind if I do." Donbar rose to his feet, gave Ophelia's sleeping form a brief inspection before walking over to where Mei knelt just as she cast healing magic to seal her own wounds.

And without warning, Donbar plunged his hand into the bulging rucksack and began to slowly withdraw one item at a time.

"Why aren't you hurt?" Mei almost seemed disappointed.

"Magical traps rarely have enough mana to fire twice."

A few long minutes passed as Donbar ceremoniously emptied the magical bag of its contents. And with each passing moment Mei's eyes shot further and further up as the items he produced far exceeded the rucksack's physical capacity.

"Is it enchanted?"

"I doubt it. Most enchantments end within a predetermined time frame, or come to naught along with the life of the caster... perhaps it's a Mythical item?"

Mei's eyes lit up as she digested this possibility. She maintained a plastered grin as she sorted through our findings. Her immediate priority was apparently sorting money and lifestyle items in one sanctified heap, with such things as a bed roll, sheets, tooth brush and tooth paste; as well as some sort of clock that precisely displayed the time in numerical form.

"Can I have that?" I wanted to examine this strange device more closely.

"You can add it to your cut. I'm sure Ophelia won't mind."

I found myself blinking in wonderment.

Are we seriously looting the remains of a renowned hero? Are all adventurers merely licensed thieves?

Donbar had taken note of my dismay. "The dead have no qualms. Besides, it's common sense to loot what you can when you can. Challenging a dungeon is a fool's errand. But arming ourselves with the tools of our fallen comrades makes us a little less foolish."

But doesn't that mean we are still fools?

Mei held out a wooden box. "This is yours. Add it to your stash."

My cut had just turned into a full blown stash.

I guess I'm really an adventurer now. Or a grave robber. Whatever. Both is fine.

I took the strange contraption into my hand and pressed my fingers to its sides. A tiny incisor popped out. Beckoned by curiosity, I pricked a solitary finger against it. The blood that oozed forth swirled in the air above it for a few moments before turning into a black mist.

The mist quickly dissipated, along with my enthusiasm.

"Mei. I think this thing is brok- woaaaah!"

The graverob- I mean the adventurers laughed at my unexpected outburst.

A swirl of letters and numbers had appeared before me. At first they emerged in a form of writing I was not familiar with, before transfiguring into an alphabet I knew to be that of the Common Tongue. A language that the human and demihuman races are naturally gifted at birth.

KOBO (LAZARUS)

Class : None (Unique Monster)

Sub-Class : None (None) Title : The Fleet Foot (The Undying One, The Gilded Tower's 80th Floor Master, The Gilded Tower's 15th Floor Master)

Level : 7 (348) HP : 21 / 21 (4640 / 4640)

MP : 36 / 36 (0 / 0)

Strength : 14 (712)

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Agility : 45 (1600)

Stamina : 19 (1045)

Fortitude : 8 (9999)

Wisdom : 6 (30)

Fortune : 10 (0)

Alignment : Neutral (Malevolent)

Skills : Lunge Lvl. 3, Dash Lvl. 2, Side Swipe Lvl. 1 (Immortal, Pain Immunity, Shape Shifter, Incubus) Status : Normal (Transformed Lvl. 10, Dungeon Bound Lvl. 10)

How can such magic exist? And what does it all mean!?

"Is this your first time checking your own status?" Mei continued to rifle through the trinkets and weapons that the mythical bag had produced while Donbar gently tossed a pair of swords whose origins were unknown, into the air, in order to measure their weight.

"I prefer Status Stones, but I hear most humans have little or no magic to call their own. So, Blood Stones infused with [Status] magic are the norm among human adventurers. Is that not right Princess?"

"That's exactly right Donbar." Mei looked up from her work, only to giggle at my wide-mouthed perplexity before continuing her itemized analysis.

How can there be no malicious inquiries from my teammates? Is my [Status] screen only visible to me? Why have they not yet engaged in interrogation?

Could these adventurers have cast this magic from afar? If such item enchantments are common place among humans then it may be safe to assume that a ranged version of this spell likely exists.

Alas, I see no subtle way to ask this.

"Donbar. Please tell me. Did you or one of your teammates cast [Status] on me earlier?"

"Huh?" Donbar halted his examination of a small, foldable shield. He compared it to his own joints which are as thick as an average human's thighs. He appeared to seriously consider wearing it as an elbow pad.

"Can [Status] be cast from a distance?" I pressed onward, unsure if I truly wanted my question answered.

"Umm. Yeah. Malachi was famous fer' doing it at a fairly high level. Although the skill is called [Appraisal]. It's common among Hunter, Tamer and Rogue classes."

Shit.

I wrestled with a hundred thoughts before throwing them all away in pursuit of my singular purpose: to remain hidden at all costs.

"And... what about Ophelia? Does a Scout normally possess such a handy skill?"

"Normally, yes. But Ophelia is actually an Archer, her sub-class is Scout. You can get a sub-class when ye' reach Level 50 and meet certain stringent requirements but if yer' born with yer' main class, then ye' can get a sub-class at Level 10."

Why the fuck is this so complicated!?

"So... does Ophelia have appraisal?"

I made a conspicuous movement that brought my hidden dagger to hand. But neither Mei nor Donbar reacted. They were too engrossed in their item inspections to notice my odd behavior. Even as we held a conversation, Donbar refused to pry his eyes away from an azure colored crystal that he grasped between a pair of meaty fingers.

"Not yet. She has to level up some before Scout skills appear."

I relaxed. And restored the dagger to the sheath that lay above my left calf.

At least my secret is safe... for now.

And even though I had just held a dagger out in my hand, I didn't actually have any sort of plan.

Wait. If Malachi could see my [Status] it would surely have set off alarm bells in his mind from the moment, we first met. Why did he choose to forestall his suspicions?

In the end, despite Malachi's extreme caution, he had lost his life. Not to a Monster, but to a trio of foolhardy adventurers.

I will not make the same mistake. I must understand and acquire the ability to appraise others.

"Let me ask you one more thing Donbar, how effective is appraisal? Can it fail?"

"That depends on its wielder. Any skill can fail. The Skill Level of the caster, the Strength of the target, the degree of concentration applied and whether or not sufficient Mana is available. By contrast abilities will always succeed as they are inherit to one's existence." Donbar now held a mysterious, sealed vial, with an ominous, green liquid bubbling within. Just when it seemed he would uncork it, he shook his head instead and tucked it into his padded jacket.

Could the abilities I was born with be inherit? Being an Incubus is surely not a skill. I can't wield my stomach.

But was I really even born? I don't recall a childhood. All I can remember is waking to the confines of this so-called dungeon. To me, the Gilded Tower is my home.

And these adventurers are my food.

A squeal from Mei interrupted my thoughts as she regretted biting into a lumpy, dark brown substance that bore the texture of hardened bread.

"Oi, Princess. Do you have to stick every little thing in your mouth?

I found myself chuckling at his imprudent remark.

"D-Donbar! Don't say things like that."

"Hmm? Is there a better way to describe your strange habits?"

"I have to taste whatever is edible. Our rations won't last long. And I'm the only one with poison resistance..."

I allowed the argument over Donbar's mannerisms to continue while I mused over the revelation of my [Status].

When did these skills appear?

[Lunge], [Dash], [Sideswipe] seemed to be an unusual combination of skills that may well suit a Rogue class adventurer. But a fundamental problem arose with the emergence of these skills... I have no mana. And skill usage relies partly on mana.

So, how can I activate a skill without mana?

I thought back to the many times I appeared before adventurers having transformed into one of their fallen comrades. In spite of taking on the exact shape and disposition of the intended target, no skills or special abilities appeared. Even innate abilities could not be manifested.

A gargoyle that couldn't fly. A wyvern that couldn't breathe fire. A medusa that couldn't see through the eyes of her snaked hair. I've been all those things and so much more. Every one a failure.

I deliberated to the point of intense frustration before the obvious truth dawned on me.

I'm a shape shifter!

I can only take on the appearance of other creatures. I will always be precluded from obtaining their skills and racial traits. But my [Status] is also a part of my facade. It surely reflects the abilities that others believe I have.

By that logic, my stats are a reflection of that perception.

Still, I wondered what would happen in the event that I yielded more strength than my outer appearance suggested.

To test my hypothesis, I decided to access my hidden stats.

10% should be near the limit of my current form. Any more and a physical distortion might emerge.

I knew that a power up would be risky. For while Donbar was a curious fellow, no explanation, however well-reasoned, would allay Mei's suspicions if I were to have a sudden growth spurt.

In a moment, a ball of invisible fire rose within my chest. And from my chest, tendrils of heat spread throughout my body. My muscles swelled just as hypertension made my blood thicken. Profuse sweat soon lined my skin.

Caught up in a rush of excitement, I carelessly pricked my thumb against the blood stone's incisor, cutting much deeper than intended. The wound healed instantly, and with it, a trail of heat caused the air to shimmer before me.

That was different from restoring my body by shape shifting. It seems that raising my stats brings forth a natural ability to quickly heal, or at least, raising my stats in my present form has such an effect.

The figures displayed in my [Status] had turned into a counter. The values shot up crazily, as the roguish form I possessed struggled to contain the absurd power that spilled forth.

"D-Donbar! K-Kobo! I-I t-think it's c-coming!" Mei was practically whimpering. I momentarily loosened my focus to address her concern as I felt a numbing fear seep into the air.

Mei held her short sword in one hand, while the other was clasped so tightly that blood dripped from her palm. She frantically glanced in every direction, and began to swiftly trace circles around our perimeter.

Donbar was madly stuffing our loot into Malachi's bag.

What could have caused this sudden pandemonium?

Having imbued my current form with just 5% of my overall stats, despite the pressure on my body I felt unbidden curiosity. I couldn't resist the powerful urge to test the limits of my present physique.

I immediately upped my stats to 10%, and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

"Mei!" Donbar dashed forward and caught Mei in his arms before her unconscious figure could hit the ground.

"What just happened?" I heard myself ask out loud. "What caused her to suddenly lose consciousness?"

I swiftly concluded that she had sensed my latent ability.

Could [Fear] be an ability that I had just unlocked with my boosted stats?

Donbar looked at me with pleading eyes. "What should we do?"

"Umm... I don't know. But I have a feeling Mei will soon recover. Maybe we should just hold our position until she comes round?"

Aside from deep agitation, which is to be expected given the situation, Donbar seemed to be fine. So, perhaps he is incapable of detecting any changes in my persona?

I need to be wary of adventurers that can detect a dangerous presence.

While Mei was unable to pinpoint the source of her terror, other, keener adventurers may immediately identify me as the source of the disturbance. And the degree of fear inducement may be proportional to their strength. In other words a particularly strong adventurer may not be swayed by an unexpected display of strength.

In conclusion, powering up in the face of a strong adventurer would mean instant exposure.

From now on, I'll power up only as a last resort.

Donbar noticed my resolve and bowed his head deeply. "You need not say it. I know what must be done." He then proceeded to strip Mei of her armor and clothing.

When she was left with little more than her undergarments, he proceeded to do the same for Ophelia.

"W-what are you doing?" I realized that I was in shock.

Is this typical among males? Does the threat of death serve as some sort of aphrodisiac?

"D-Donbar I-I don't think this is the right time for that..." I struggled to find the words to describe the foolishness of such a decision.

"What is it lad? Aren't ye' prepared to face the Minotaur?" Donbar absent-mindedly replied as he tossed their armor and excess articles of clothing into the magical rucksack.

I finally understood his intent when he shrugged off his shield and squeezed it into Malachi's bag, which appeared to swallow it whole with ease.

I grinned at my own silliness and helped him tuck a longsword and felling axe into the rucksack, only to be met with surprise when he abruptly handed the magical item over to me.

"You want me to carry it?"

"Aye. I'm sure ye' can manage this much. While I'll carry them on me aft & fore."

True to his word, Donbar finished his preparations by awkwardly wrapping Ophelia's lanky frame on his back, while bracing Mei in a princess carry.

"So what's the plan?"

I've never been much of strategist.

"I thought ye' had one."

I face palmed. And then sighed. And then groaned.

"Can ye' come up with something quick?" Donbar could never take a hint. "Whatever killed the Yali might be hot on our trail. We cannot afford to tarry any longer."

I turned my back to him and jogged forward.

I'm sure I'll think of something to defeat the Minotaur and still maintain my cover.

Hopefully.