INTO THE FIRE

©2022 A.J. Nadir

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CONTENTS

ALSO IN SERIES

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

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CHAPTER ONE

Arek waited until an hour after brunch to tell his friends about the doomsday clock that had etched itself back onto his claws. After all, there was no point ruining a perfectly good meal with a problem as mundane as imminent destruction.

Once everyone but Ming had finished eating, Arek drew their attention to himself. He ignored the pit growing deeper at the bottom of his stomach and held his hands out so the others could get a better look as they spoke. The gentle, pulsing green glow of the runes backed his words up, leaving no doubt that his magic had returned.

“That’s kind of cool,” Ming said, finishing off the last piece of apple pie and licking her lips clean. “Not the uncontrollable insanity part, but... at least you’re strong again. Magic is fun.”

“I have an enchanted dagger,” Belmont said. Arek noticed that the man had a hand wrapped around the hilt of his bright pink staff, no doubt prepared to summon a shield if Arek went insane. The thought was oddly comforting. “We could etch the runes off again. Or do you believe that you’ve already lost control? Actually, if you had, would you even know?”

“Relax, Belmont,” Malissa said. “If Arek had already lost control, he’d be slinging magic everywhere. Judging by the fact that he’s just sitting here, I suspect that he’s fine for the time being. That being said, we should probably contact Magus.”

“That would be a good idea,” Arek agreed. “I’m certainly feeling the desire to use magic again, but I don’t believe it’s enforced by anything other than my longing to, well, use magic. It doesn’t seem to be influenced by an external force, which is somehow more concerning. As for the dagger, it’s worth giving it a shot.”

“I’ll go find Magus,” Ming said, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet.

“Don’t channel a huge amount of pure magic in the middle of the city!” Malissa called after Ming as the small mage darted away.

Ming cackled in response, running out the door and disappearing into the morning crowd.

“Well, that’s not good,” Malissa said. “How did things go so wrong so quickly?”

“Sorry,” Arek said.

“It’s okay. We’ll deal with it. We’ve gotten this far, so don’t you think for a moment that we’re going to get brought down by a bunch of fancy green lines.”

“Less talk, more stabbing runes,” Belmont said, sliding a dagger across the table to Arek.

The blade shimmered with a faint blue light. It would have been impossible to notice if the orc wasn’t intentionally looking for it.

Arek lifted the dagger and pressed the tip into his claw. He drew a deep breath and gritted his teeth against the pain. The orc increased the pressure, ignoring the pain that shot through his hand as the blade bit deeper into his hand. He dragged it along a claw, carving a thin line through dozens of miniscule runes.

“Well, that seems to have worked,” Malissa said.

The runes lit up. Before any of them could react, the furrow Arek had carved into himself lit up with the same color as the runes. When the light faded a moment later, the cut was gone.

“You ruined it,” Belmont grumbled. “You are a bad luck charm. First you walk next to the river and get yanked in, and now this.”

Arek peered at his claw. His brow furrowed and his lips thinned. “It never did this before. That arch did something to the runes. They’re different.”

Belmont stood up and made his way over to stand beside Arek. He kept a good bit of space between them and kept his staff clutched tightly in one hand.

“Let me take a look,” Belmont said. “I might recognize some of them.”

Arek offered him his hand. Belmont took it and raised it to eye level, examining the runes with a frown. Several adventurers sent a glance in their direction, and one of them let out a cheerful whistle.

“Nothing I recall,” Belmont sighed. “They’re strange. The style seems similar to the rune on the arch, but more modern. It’s like a mixture of the two types. I’m sure Magus will be of more help.”

“You’re quite friendly with Magus,” Malissa said, tilting her head slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you compliment someone so seriously or without looking like you sat on an anthill. What happened between you two?”

“Absolutely nothing. He’s just a very capable mage.” Belmont crossed his arms. “He might have also given me a book or two, but that’s a topic for later. We need to make sure our chef doesn’t explode.”

Just as the last word came out of Belmont’s mouth, a dull thrum ripped through the guild. It was just a noise, but it passed with enough force to make Arek feel like his bones were shaking.

Belmont leapt to his feet, raising the staff and preparing to summon a shield before the group. The other adventurers in the tavern reacted similarly, although they were slightly slower to the draw than Belmont.

Ming strode back into the tavern with a sheepish smile on her face. Magus stormed in behind her. A cute nightcap sat askew on his head and he wore a long, flowing bathrobe. It might have looked regal, had it not been bright pink.

“What is it with you lot and summoning me by mimicking an explosion in the city?” Magus snarled, pausing to break down coughing for several moments before resuming his tirade. “Have you never heard of a message spell? You don’t have to use enough magic to blow up a dungeon!”

“I don’t know a message spell,” Ming said meekly.

“I’ve got a bubble and a healing spell,” Belmont said.

“Some basic summoning magic for my daggers, but that’s it,” Malissa added with an embarrassed grin.

“I know one, but I don’t think it would be wise for me to be using any magic at the moment,” Arek said.

“You know one?” Magus asked, his eyes narrowing. “And you still let this little goblin call me with a pillar of pure magic in the middle of the city? What is your prob—wait. You know a spell?” The mage flicked his hand, summoning a dome of energy around the group to block out the watching adventurers.

“That’s why I called you,” Ming said. “It’s a little urgent. Arek is gonna blow up.”

“I don’t know where you all got the idea that I’ve become explosive,” Arek said. He turned to Magus and raised his hand. “However, there is still a cause for worry. It appears the dungeon changed more than Ming’s eyes.”

“Explain,” Magus ordered. He coughed into his sleeve, but his inquisitive eyes didn’t leave Arek for a second.

It took a few moments for Arek to go over the history of his runes. Magus’ eyes narrowed once the orc had finished speaking. The pale mage shook his head with a disbelieving chuckle.

“You played me. When I asked if you were magical, you said not inherently. I suppose an external enchantment wouldn’t count. Very clever. Makes me even more curious about your past.”

“My past is not the immediate concern,” Arek said. “Can you look at the runes? We have already attempted to destroy them with an enchanted dagger, but they repaired themselves.”

Magus walked around the side of the table and peered closer at Arek’s claws. A thoughtful frown crossed his face as he scanned them.

“Interesting. Very interesting,” Magus said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t recognize these at all. They’re just like the runes in Ming’s eyes. However, if you’ve had problems controlling yourself in the past due to the runes, we can’t afford to delay like we can with Ming. Arek, you’ve got a Truesight Artifact, right? Use it, please. Is anything off?”

Arek shrugged and pulled the eyepiece out, examining himself.

Vaugh-Arek

Male Orc, Age 29

Magical affinity: Runes

Magical power: 89th Percentile

Magical energy: 55th Percentile

Physical power: 82nd Percentile

Karma: -3,802: C-Rank Adventurer

Guild: None

“Nothing is different,” Arek said, putting it away.

“What should we do?” Belmont asked. “If we get a stronger weapon, we might end up chopping Arek’s fingers off. Besides, what if the runes are controlling him? If we don’t understand what they do, he could be under someone’s influence!”

“I don’t think someone else could have cooked like that,” Malissa pointed out. “I highly doubt whoever made the arches in the dungeon was also a professional chef.”

“That’s… a fair point, actually,” Belmont admitted. “That doesn’t mean they couldn’t somehow influence Arek in the future, though.”

“Belmont is correct,” Magus said. “However, I’m not aware of any method to remove the runes without completely chopping your hands off. We have no idea what they’ll do if faced with a powerful magical attack.”

“I find the removal of my hands to be a mild inconvenience,” Arek said.

Magus sighed and rubbed his forehead, as if Arek’s answer had itself greatly inconvenienced him.

“Very well. The first order of business is to run a field test. We need to find out if you are going to lose control of your abilities in a controlled environment.”

Magus raised his hands upwards. The air crackled and the group vanished, leaving behind nothing but the smell of ozone.

They snapped back into existence in a wide-open field. Everyone other than Magus and Ming promptly fell to the ground as their chairs vanished from beneath them.

“Give us warning before you do that!” Malissa snapped.

“Sorry,” Magus said, but he didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “Now, Arek, test your magic. Fear not, I will subdue you if you find yourself unable to control your abilities. We’re far enough away from the city, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arek slowly rose to his feet. He glanced down at his travel bag, which had somehow teleported along with them. The flap was still slightly askew. He could make out the red patch within the small gap. The damn thing felt like it wanted to be seen.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Arek asked. “What if the desire to overuse my magic comes back the moment I cast a spell?”

“You claim to be a chef, but you’re still an adventurer,” Magus replied. His tone darkened and the air around him crackled with faint blue energy. “For the moment, it looks like the runes will be a part of you for the near future. When you inevitably get into trouble and your team needs your help, you’re going to use the runes. Now, what happens if you hold off now and go insane then? You become a liability to your own team. An uncontrolled weapon is no better than an enemy.”

“Hold on now,” Malissa said. “We contacted you for help, but you’re not going to be ordering anyone other than Ming around. Arek could go insane from using the runes! You have no place making that decision for him.”

“Logically, Magus is correct,” Belmont said slowly. He ignored the glare Malissa sent his way as Magus gave him an approving nod. “However… I believe I am going to side with Malissa. We’re talking about Arek’s life, not the outcome of a dice game.”

Magus rolled his eyes and turned to Ming. “Have you also decided to become a philosopher?”

“Nah, I’ll just go with whatever Arek wants,” Ming said with a shrug. “I trust him.”

Arek felt a bead of sweat trail down the back of his neck. He swallowed and clenched his hands, setting his brow in stone and giving Magus a firm nod. “Thank you, everyone. However, I think Magus is correct. I cannot progress without making sure I am not a threat to the party.”

A grin started to cross Magus’ face.

“I’m well aware that half the reason you want me to do this is because you want to see an orc use magic,” Arek said, wiping Magus’ smile straight off. “It just happens to be the best course of action.”

“I am a scholar first and foremost,” Magus said with an unapologetic shrug. “Do not fear. If you lose control, I will subdue you without serious harm. These runes might be dangerous, but they will not permit you to stand against me.”

The man’s words were a mere statement of fact, not an insult. There was surely no doubt in Magus’ mind that he could stop Arek if worse came to worst.

“Best get your shields ready, Belmont,” Arek said, drawing a deep breath and walking several strides away from the party. “You might need them.”

CHAPTER TWO

It was a strange feeling, yearning to call upon the magic within the runes while simultaneously wishing they had never returned. Unfortunately, when the lives of his companions were on the line, Arek’s trepidation took backseat. The orc cracked his neck.

Years had passed since Arek had last attempted to draw upon the full power of the runes. The occasional spell he’d cast to help with cooking had drawn so little power from the already-damaged runes that the orc hoped he’d forgotten how to properly access them in the first place. There was no such luck.

The moment Arek’s mind drifted to casting a spell, he felt power start to thrum within his hands. He swallowed and narrowed his eyes. There was no backing away.

“Get ready,” Arek warned. He shoved old memories to the side as he dredged up a spell he hadn’t cast in ten years. He mentally brushed the spiderwebs away, bringing the knowledge to the forefront of his mind.

Within the span of a second, brilliant green lines etched themselves into his claws as individual runes lit up. The air around Arek’s claws crackled. Energy exploded forth, stretching outwards and expanding like an elastic bolt of lightning.

The green light grew darker, forming into a thick pillar about the width of a fist and a half. One end expanded, forming into a large, wicked blade. It had a slight curve that sharpened at the tip. Details continued to slowly appear from within the light. The forms of furious warriors and furious beasts decorated the entire shaft. Arek reached out and grabbed the construct. It hummed in response to his touch.

The light dimmed further before stopping at just a few shades lighter than jade. The blade of the weapon seemed to hum slightly, and the light at its edge was significantly brighter than the rest of the weapon.

Arek kept his hand as far away from his body as he could. He held the staff gingerly, as if it were about to explode.

“That’s an interesting spell,” Magus observed. He watched Arek closely, his inquisitive eyes drinking in every detail. “That’s a guandao, if I’m not mistaken. Not many mages bother summoning weapons. It’s much more effective to fight someone from far away.”

“I am not a mage,” Arek said curtly. His voice was so tense that it could have cut a steak.

“I’m not here to argue semantics,” Magus said. “Feeling any urges to go on a killing spree?”

“You can’t just ask him that!” Ming whispered. “You have to be more polite.”

“And how would you do that?” Magus asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Ming cleared her throat and turned to Arek. “Ah…are we looking any tastier than normal? Like we’d go well atop a bed of spinach, drizzled with a lemon vinaigrette?” Ming paused. Then she licked her lips. “Actually, that sounds kind of good….”

“I’m afraid not,” Arek said. “And, for the record, meat tends to pair well with a salad that has more of a bite. Arugula might be the better option, if you were so inclined.”

“You’re both psychopaths,” Malissa grumbled, doing her best to take the situation seriously. She failed miserably at keeping the grin from her face as Ming nodded thoughtfully in response to Arek’s words.

“Just for educational purposes, do you think a person would taste good?” Ming asked. “And, while we’re talking about knowledge at that stuff, would they be best medium or medium-rare?”

“Do not answer that,” Belmont warned. “She was already an inch away from eating a fishman. We do not need to encourage this further.”

Arek’s mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat. As far as the orc could tell, not a single trace of unnatural desire towards the magic had appeared. A miniscule amount of the tension left his shoulders.

“Of course. It was just meant to be a joke to lighten the situation.” Arek waited for a few moments until Belmont glanced in Magus’ direction. Then he mouthed “medium-rare” at Ming and gave her a wink.

Belmont didn’t see Arek, but he spotted the gleeful grin on Ming’s face and immediately glared at Arek.

The orc shrugged, then dismissed the spell. The guandao shattered into thousands of little motes of light that shimmered and launched back into his claws. The runes faded back to gray.

“I’m not feeling anything yet,” Arek said before any of them could ask. “It’s almost concerning, actually. There’s no way my runes were repaired and improved for free. There has to be a drawback, and I’d much rather know it than be in the dark.”

“Indeed,” Magus agreed, pursing his lips. “I recommend you all stay within the city for the next few days. I have already started scouring the libraries for any information relating to Ming’s eyes. I will add your runes to the list, Arek. However, it does not appear as if there are any immediate consequences to your magic. I don’t believe you are a danger to yourself or the public, so you are free to do as you please.”

“Well, that’s reassuring. The guild has been very effective at solving our other problems,” Malissa said, frowning.

“We’re doing the best we can,” Magus said with a frown of his own. He coughed into his sleeve. “It is impossible to believe how deeply rooted that woman’s organization is. I don’t know why she was foolish enough to challenge Belmont in the middle of the guild, but this is churning up to be quite the conspiracy. It might be one of the biggest scandals that the guild has ever had. So, for your own safety, I strongly recommend against speaking of it further. Rest assured, we are working to reach a satisfactory result.”

“Was that a threat?” Belmont asked, tilting his head slightly.

“A warning,” Magus said. “Do not misunderstand my words. You have nothing to fear from me. However, there are many in the adventurer’s guild that would kill to keep the news of such a scandal quiet. Politics are a very dangerous game, and you’ve inadvertently stumbled into what may very well be the largest match of the decade.”

“That’s not dramatic at all,” Arek said dryly. Magus, whose chest had puffed out slightly in pride during his speech, seemed to deflate as his epic moment was ruined. “The adventurer’s guild loves getting into pissing matches with people. This wouldn’t be the first time one of their enemies has infiltrated them, and it won’t be the last. I think we’re a little more concerned as to why Belmont has been dragged into it.”

“That being said, we’ll be playing it safer than usual,” Belmont said. “The circumstances are irrelevant. We can’t take any risks for the foreseeable future, or at least until we know who we’re dealing with.”

“That is probably a wise decision,” Magus said. “I promise we’ll do our best to bring more information to light soon.”

Their conversation petered off into an uneasy silence, with the four of them awkwardly watching Magus. The blue-veined mage coughed into his sleeve and cleared his throat loudly.

“Well, I think we’ve done what we needed to. Arek, I recommend you avoid using your magic for the time being. I’ll contact you the moment I find any useful information. With that being said, unless anyone has any reason to stay here further, I’ll be taking us back to Riverfall.”

“Can I have a new spell to learn?” Ming said, doing her best puppy-dog eyes in the older mage’s direction. “I figured out the first one, and it’s kind of boring.”

Magus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. A faint blue light lit up at the tip of his finger and he traced a line through the air. The line split open into a tiny portal and he reached inside, hunting around for something. He found it after a few moments and pulled out a tiny white book that wasn’t much larger than his hand.

“There are several spells at your level within this book. It’s quite rare, so please—”

Ming snatched it from his hand and eagerly started flipping through the pages, practically salivating at being able to cast more than one pure magic spell.

“—be careful with it,” Magus finished. He let out a weary sigh and turned to Belmont as he pulled another, much thinner book from his bag. This one was a pale beige, with dozens of dark runes inscribed on the front.

“And this one is for you,” Magus said, handing it to Belmont.

The armored man produced a thin black cloth from within his travel pouch and wrapped it around his gauntleted hand before taking the book. “What’s this?”

“You need a mentor or an incredible amount of money to learn new spells,” Magus said, rubbing the back of his head. “You didn’t get one during your exam, so I felt that it was my duty to step in. Temporarily, of course. Just until you find a new mentor. The other two books are just the basics. This one is more appropriate for a healer.”

“I see. Thank you,” Belmont said, wrapping the book in the black cloth and putting it into his travel bag.

“Well, then, it’s time to get back,” Magus said. “I have quite a lot of work to do. A good bit of it will be explaining to the guild that the giant spike of energy was due to an overeager apprentice rather than a powerful magical artifact. So, is everyone ready?” He let out a racking cough and grimaced, then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Before any of them could respond, pure magic arced out of his hands and enveloped the group. Bright blue light lit up the clearing. When it faded, they were all gone.

The Happy Sunflowers appeared in the bottom floor of the adventurer’s guild, several feet away from the table they’d been sitting at before Magus had arrived. The mage hadn’t come along with them, and their arrival drew the attention of several adventurers.

“Well, that was…something,” Malissa said, letting out a weary sigh. “I suppose we got mostly good news, though.”

Ming grunted in what might have been agreement. Her nose was buried in the book Magus had given her, and the small mage didn’t seem particularly interested in tearing her gaze away from it.

“It’s still concerning,” Arek said. “Not to sound like Belmont, but we need to be on our guard. If Ming and I were both affected by that portal, it’s possible you and Belmont were as well. If even Magus doesn’t recognize what the green runes are, we have to assume that they’re dangerous.”

“You’re right, but is there really anything we can do about it?” Malissa asked. “Magus is already checking the library. If we sit around constantly worrying, all we’ll do is make it harder on ourselves.”

“It is better to be overprepared than the alternative,” Belmont said. “If we don’t know what your runes do, we should prepare for the worst. We could barricade ourselves within our rooms and wait until Magus finds further information.”

Malissa crossed her arms and shook her head firmly. “No. Being careful is one thing, but we shouldn’t live in fear of something that we don’t know. As long as we’re in the city, Magus can show up and help if things go really badly.”

“What are you suggesting?” Belmont asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, we’ve got a good number of people watching us at the moment,” Malissa said, lowering her voice. “Regardless of what we do, I think it’s time to get a move on. We’ve got some time to kill, and we just finished a dungeon. I think we should pay a visit to the auction house.”

“I certainly wouldn’t mind that,” Arek said, nodding. “But not yet. I like to cook when I’m stressed, and I think my runes reactivating is sufficient cause for stress. I know we just ate, so I’ll keep the portion small.”

“None of us are going to object to that. I know magic can drain your energy, and we’re all quite active now that you force us to get up before the sun.” Malissa gave the orc a smile. “I don’t think a little extra food is going to hurt any of us.”

Ming was less subtle. She tore her gaze away from the book and threw her hands into the air with a cheer. Several people in the crowd glanced in their direction, but many of them were regulars at the tavern.

The Happy Sunflowers’ antics had started to become something of an expectation rather than a surprise, and the novelty had quickly worn off. Almost everyone returned to their meal after rolling their eyes or scoffing in Ming’s direction.

“What are you making?” Ming asked, clutching her new book. She licked her lips like a predator.

“Nothing too complicated this time,” Arek said. “We don’t want to spend all day cooking. If Voulier will let me use his kitchen, I think I know exactly what we need. Malissa, are you going to be helping?”

“If you’ll let me,” the tall woman said, nodding. “I’ve been having a lot of fun learning so far.”

“Good,” Arek said. “That’s how it should be. Now we just have to hope Voulier doesn’t mind us bothering him again.”

Ming and Belmont claimed a table while the other two made for the kitchen door. It swung open before they were halfway there, revealing a rather irate-looking Voulier. The man angrily stroked his moustache and adjusted his hat.

“You’re late,” he said irritably.

“How did you know we’d be coming?” Arek asked as the two stepped inside and Voulier shut the door behind them.

“There was a ruckus in the dining room. Everyone other than you is always polite and silent.”

“That’s fair enough, actually,” Malissa said as she bit back a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” Arek said. “This won’t take too long. I’m just going to be making some fried rice.” The disguised orc paused for a moment, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, could I buy some rice off you?”

“If it’ll get you two out of my kitchen faster, you can have it,” Voulier snapped. “Chop chop. Get to your spot and cook. Unlike you adventurers, the rest of us have a real job to do.”

The other cooks, who were all watching Voulier’s exchange with the Happy Sunflower members, quickly turned back to their stations and pretended to be busy.

Voulier stormed over to a cupboard and started rooting around in it while Arek and Malissa walked over to their station. The tall woman grabbed the apron from the hook on the wall on the way. The orc couldn’t help but notice that while the wok had already been placed on the stove, there were no signs of the station being in use by one of the other cooks.

Arek set his travel pack aside and started placing some of the spice jars from his bandolier on the table. Voulier shuffled by them, practically tossing the sack of rice onto the countertop before vanishing behind the island in the center of the room.

“Malissa, could you start by washing the rice? It’s important to get rid of the starch so it doesn’t stick together. Just pour it into a bowl and fill it with water. Swish it around a bit and then pour it out. Do that two or three times.”

Malissa nodded. She finished tying her apron on and got to work. The bag of rice was rather small, so she dumped the entire thing into a clean bowl on the counter and stuck it under the faucet.

While Malissa worked, Arek placed two small vials and a bigger canister on the counter. He turned to locate Voulier. The small chef was already striding towards him, half a dozen ingredients cradled in his arms. Voulier placed them on the countertop and crossed his arms.

“Anyone can make fried rice, but few can make it well. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Very well,” Arek said, a smile crossing his features. He let go of the gold piece in his pocket, which he’d planned to pay the other chef with, and assessed what he had to work with.

Voulier had procured several eggs, three thin red peppers, a few green onions, a small pile of shrimp, and a healthy amount of garlic.

“I’ve got the rest of what I need,” Arek said before Voulier could dart back to get more ingredients.

“Why are you telling me that?” the shorter chef said. “I don’t care. Any chef worth his salt will be carrying the other ingredients.” He huffed and crossed his arms, hiding a bottle of soy sauce behind his back.

Arek turned so that Voulier couldn’t see his smile. Malissa had already finished washing the rice, so Arek commandeered the sink to wash his hands. He then washed the produce and set it aside to dry.

“Do you know how to cook rice?” Arek asked.

“I do, actually,” Malissa said. Her inner brow raised and she pressed her lips together. “My mother taught me—before the kobolds.”

“I’m sorry,” Arek said, setting the bowl down and turning to face the woman. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s fine,” Malissa said. She blinked quickly and turned away. Taking a pot from the wall, she poured the rice into it before adding water and setting it over the stove. “I’m replacing the bad memories with good ones.”

Arek couldn’t find an appropriate response, so he settled for taking his cleaver and finely mincing several cloves of garlic before tossing them into a bowl.

While Malissa cooked the rice, Arek got another bowl and cracked the eggs into it. He used the spoon to whisk them together and set that bowl aside as well.

“The rice is done,” Malissa announced. Her voice had returned to normal.

“Great timing,” Arek said. “For fried rice, we actually want to have day-old rice. It fries much better. Since I don’t think we want to wait that long…”

He set the wok over the stove and turned the heat on. The orc raised a hand over the pot of rice, preparing to use magic. Then he paused. A slight frown crossed his face and his hand lowered a few inches.

“Is it safe for me to cast my magic? What if it gets corrupted by my runes?”

“Did you have trouble controlling your magic when you tested it out in the field with Magus?” Malissa asked.

“Well, no,” Arek said.

“Then it’s probably fine. You can’t live in fear, Arek. That’s Belmont’s shtick, and I think even he’s getting tired of it. We’ll deal with life as it comes.”

The orc swallowed. He nodded and raised his hand back over the rice. One slow breath later, gold light enveloped the rice. Several minutes later, Arek lowered his hand. He let out a relieved sigh and shook his head.

“It’s funny. I should have been the one giving you the comforting words, but it somehow turned out the other way around.”

“It happens,” Malissa said with a slight smile. “That’s what friends are for.”

Arek stopped to look at Malissa for a moment. A complex expression flashed over his face. Then he nodded, his lips curling up in the barest hint of a grin.

CHAPTER THREE

The orc got back to work, taking the thin red peppers and cutting them into tiny discs. He then poured a healthy glug of oil into the wok and tossed the garlic in.

“Could you chop the green onions?” Arek asked. He offered his cleaver to Malissa, who took it reverently. She stared down at the knife for a few moments before getting to work.

Several seconds later, the fragrant aroma of frying garlic started to rise from the wok. Arek scooped up the chopped peppers and added them into the pot. The oil crackled and hissed as the new ingredients touched it. Malissa finished cutting the green onions, so Arek added them in as well.

“Garlic cooks very quickly, so we don’t need to give it long on its own,” Arek explained as he stirred everything together with a wooden spoon. “Peppers take a few minutes. We want to really fry them, not just warm them up. Frying will help bring a lot of their natural flavor out.”

Once the orc was satisfied, he removed a thin disc of pepper to show Malissa. It had browned along the edges, but it wasn’t burnt. Arek removed all of the vegetables from the wok, placing them into a bowl.

He picked up the bowl of beaten eggs and poured it into the wok. The orc added in a sprinkle of salt as well. He let everything sit for a few seconds before he started mixing it together.

“We just want the eggs to be barely cooked,” Arek instructed. “If we let them completely finish, they’ll be dry when the dish is done. At the same time, we don’t want them to be wet and undercooked. Nobody wants their fried rice to be goopy. Take a look and let me know when you think the eggs are about ready.”

Malissa nodded and stepped forward to get a better look at the eggs. Arek handed her the spoon and allowed the woman to stir everything together.

“I think it’s ready,” Malissa announced a few moments later. She handed the spoon back to Arek, who gave her an approving nod.

“Just about right,” he agreed, scooping the eggs out of the wok and putting them into a bowl. “They could use a few more moments, but we’re taking that time talking anyways.”

Arek took the shrimp and put them into the wok, flipping each one when they turned opaque after just a few seconds. As soon as they did, he removed them from the hot metal and set them aside.

Arek grabbed the pot of rice and dumped it back into the wok. He let it heat, breaking up a few clumps that had formed, then followed it up with all of the other ingredients. He stirred everything together as quickly as possible to make sure the eggs, peppers, and onions were well distributed throughout the rice. As he stirred, he added a healthy glug of both sesame oil and soy sauce.

He picked up the two vials he’d set on the counter earlier and popped the tops off. He shook a healthy amount of each one into the dish, stirring constantly as the rice started to crackle and pop.

“Any idea what I’m adding now?” Arek asked.

“Salt, maybe?” Malissa asked. “Although I don’t know why you’d add it twice. I would have guessed pepper, but both of those are white.”

“You’re quite close, actually,” Arek said. “One of these vials has white pepper. It’s much lighter than black pepper, and works well for a milder dish such as fried rice. We don’t want to overpower the flavor of the rice or the eggs.”

“What’s the other one have, then?”

“White gold,” Voulier said, appearing behind Malissa. She bit back a surprised curse and turned to look down at the chef.

“What’s that?”

“One of the keys to amazing fried rice,” Voulier said, giving Arek a begrudging nod. “It comes from Red Mount, and it’s a type of salt. It’s absolutely incredible at boosting the flavor in just about every savory dish. It works well in fried rice.”

“And there you have it,” Arek said, more than slightly smug. “Fried rice.”

Voulier snatched a spoon and took a heaping spoon to taste. He popped it into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with Arek the entire time. He chewed slowly and then swallowed. Then he gave the orc a single nod.

“It’s okay,” Voulier said. “Well done.”

“Thank you,” Arek said, inclining his head respectfully as he started cleaning up the workspace. “We’ll be out of your hair now. I appreciate you letting us use your kitchen.”

“It’s no pro—ah, don’t get used to it,” Voulier said, stuttering over his words. “If word gets out that I’m running a charity case, the guild will be overrun with entitled fools. I’ve only allowed you to cook here because of your extraneous circumstances.”

“Whatever the reason, we still appreciate it,” Malissa said, smiling at the mustached chef.

Arek finished up washing the bowls and set everything out to dry. He slung his pack over his shoulder and picked up the bowl of rice. Malissa grabbed several bowls and utensils. As the two of them started towards the door, Voulier cleared his throat.

They paused when Voulier shuffled over to them and thrust a paper package into Malissa’s hands.

“It was lying around the kitchen, picking up dust,” Voulier said gruffly. “I would have just thrown it out, but maybe you can make some use out of it.”

“Thank you,” Malissa said, surprised.

“Now get out!” Voulier snapped. “You are distracting my cooks.”

He waved a hand threateningly as the two scurried out the door while hiding their grins.

The other two Happy Sunflowers members were still at the same table. Both of them had their noses buried in the books that Magus had given them. As they approached, Belmont’s stern gaze snapped up to meet them.

He relaxed slightly when he realized who was walking over to the table, setting his book down and wrapping it back up in a black cloth. Ming was oblivious to their presence until they were within sniffing distance.

Her nose twitched and she glanced up, casting a predatory grin in the direction of the bowl of fried rice.

“What did you make?” Ming asked.

“Manners, Ming,” Belmont reminded. “It’s ‘thank you for cooking for us.’ You’re going to anger someone important if you keep that up.”

“Thank you for cooking for us,” Ming said, making a face at Belmont. “What did you make?”

“Fried rice,” Arek said. He set the bowl down on the table.

Belmont grabbed Ming’s shoulder before she could dive forward. “No hands in the bowl. I don’t want to get sick, and I know all too well where those grubby little hands of yours have been. Use a utensil. Even Arek uses a utensil, and he was raised in the wild. I think.”

“You’d be correct,” Arek said. “Although the first thing I was taught how to do was use a utensil. It was quite important in my tribe.”

“Really?” Malissa asked. It wasn’t often that Arek talked about his past, but the orc had lived quite the interesting life, so every scrap he dropped was like buried gold.

“Yep,” Arek said. He lifted his meat cleaver a few inches out of his travel pack and smirked at the party. “They taught us how to use a knife pretty early on. I’ll admit we didn’t get around to spoons and forks, though.”

“Oh, get stuffed,” Malissa said. She rolled her eyes and set the bowls out. She served everyone a portion and then sat down, setting the package Voulier had given her on the table.

Arek chuckled. He noticed a flicker of a smile cross Belmont’s face, but it vanished before it took hold. The armored man wouldn’t be caught dead laughing at a joke.

Ming brought her bowl closer. She curled her lip up at the spoon and glanced at Malissa. The tall woman was looking down at her bowl of rice. Ming’s eyes gleamed as she snatched her bowl and tipped it back into her mouth, devouring the entire portion in three rapid bites.

“This is really good! Thanks, guys!” Ming mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Arek used the comically small spoon in his hand to get a taste of the rice himself. He was tempted to take a page out of Ming’s book, but after seeing the look Malissa was shooting the small mage, he decided against it.

The fried rice was as good as he remembered it. The grains were just crisp enough to give the bite texture, while the egg was soft and flavorful. The dish had a smoky flavor with just a hint of salt that was like a command in his mind to take another bite.

He obliged, this time getting a shrimp in the spoonful as well. It was flavorful and slightly charred, just enough to add a bit of a crunch. The rice wasn’t oily, but it still coated the inside of his mouth.

“It turned out quite well,” Arek agreed. “I’ll admit that I’ve had better, but I think we’ve done a pretty good job.”

“It’s amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever had rice with this much flavor,” Malissa said after swallowing. “I’ve had fried rice before, but it’s never tasted like this. What did you do that was so different? I saw you cooking, and it didn’t seem like you changed that much.”

“What do you think it was?” Arek challenged her. “You’re right, fried rice is a very common recipe. Nearly every recipe has the same basic ingredients. The toppings can be changed however you desire, though.”

“The toppings? No. That’s not the difference I’m tasting.” Malissa started out slowly, but her words grew more confident as she continued. “The toppings would absolutely affect the dish, but not like this. It’s like everything just has more… flavor. The meat tastes meatier, and the dish seems more like a single conglomerate of flavor rather than a bunch of different ingredients that ended up in the same location.”

“So what do you think it is?” Arek pressed.

Malissa’s lips thinned and she crossed her arms, thinking. “Everything,” she said after several moments. “I don’t know much about cooking fried rice, but I think it was the combination of how you cooked each ingredient individually so that they wouldn’t burn or undercook. I’m sure the white gold did something too, since I’ve never heard of it.”

“Very good,” Arek said with a wide grin. “You’re right on the money. I’m no expert on fried rice, but as far as I know, you’re correct.”

Malissa nodded slowly, taking the information to heart as everyone continued to eat. She was the first to finish. She pushed her bowl away and pulled the package Voulier had given her closer.

She carefully tore open the packaging. White cloth peeked out at her from underneath it. Malissa pulled it out of the package, revealing a pure white apron. It had several pockets on the front and was completely unmarred.

“Collecting dust, huh?” Arek asked with a chuckle. “That looks like quite a nice apron.”

“I can tell,” Malissa said, running a hand along the smooth fabric. “I should thank him.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate it if you walked in there and said, ‘thank you,’” Arek replied. “I think we know enough about Voulier to understand that. You’re much better off showing him his gift went to good use. Make a dish that you’re proud of and let him taste it.”

Malissa nodded slowly. She folded the apron up and carefully placed it in her extradimensional bag, sending a glance at the kitchen before turning back to the table.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

“So long as we don’t have to pay both of you for cooking,” Belmont said, his lip curling in what might have been a small smile.

“There’s no ‘we!’ I’m paying all of Arek’s salary,” Ming grumbled, stuffing some more fried rice into her mouth. “You’re just a moocher.”

Belmont shrugged, not denying it. “You made the deal, not me, though I’m more than happy to profit off it. It’s not like ten gold is going to break anyone’s bank, though. Especially not anymore. We can earn a respectable amount of money in the F-rank dungeons.”

“Speaking of money, why don’t we check out the auction house?” Malissa said. “Now that we’ve eaten, I don’t think anything is holding us back.”

Ming glanced up from her bowl the moment Malissa said the word “auction.” “I second that. I like wasting money, and the guild still owes us money from Greenridge. There’s no point letting it burn a hole in our pockets.”

“That could be a good idea,” Arek conceded. “I’ll admit that I have no desire to remain cooped up any longer. I would very much like to check out what rare ingredients the auction has.”

Belmont crossed his arms and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Don’t forget about the strange magic on Ming and Arek, though. We’ll have to keep a very close eye on both of them. Until we know what happened, we must be wary of everything. For that matter, Malissa, both of us need to be aware as well. We could be compromised and not even know it. There’s no reason for the energy to only have affected Arek and Ming.”

“We’ll be careful,” Malissa promised. “We’ll still be inside the city, so it’s not like we’ll be far from help if we really need it.”

With their course decided, the Happy Sunflowers left the adventurer’s guild.

Arek’s Fried Rice

2 cups of jasmine rice

1 and ½ cups water

3 tablespoons flavorless oil

2 eggs

As much peeled and deveined shrimp as you can handle. (12 ounces is a good start)

1-2 green onions: Pinch of salt

Pinch of white pepper

2-3 tablespoons soy sauce

1-2 tablespoons sesame oil (to taste)

4-5 serrano peppers or 1 bell pepper (diced or chopped, respectively)

Pinch of MSG (optional): Thoroughly wash the rice and cook it per instructions.

If possible, refrigerate overnight. If hungry, forge onwards. It’ll still taste good.

1. Heat wok over medium-high and add a dash of oil. Crack 2 eggs into a bowl and mix them together before adding into the wok. Keep them moving until they are just a tad undercooked, then remove from wok.

2. Add the shrimp to the wok and cook just until it turns opaque, then remove it as well.

3. Add the peppers and fry until they start to show a bit of color. Then, in an unexpected twist, remove those too.

4. Add rice back into the pan and cook until it is warm. Add in the eggs, then the shrimp and peppers. Pour in soy and sesame oil and sprinkle MSG, white pepper, and a pinch of salt.

Taste the rice and add seasonings if needed. Enjoy while sending smug looks at any watching haughty chefs.

CHAPTER FOUR

It had been several years since the Happy Sunflowers visited the auction house. Luckily, the city had a vested interest in leading travelers to it. Riverfall taxed every item sold in the auction, so there was no shortage of signs pointing the group in the right direction.

They traveled towards the north side of the city, passing through the endless rows of identical buildings for several minutes. The road was quite well traveled and lined with a multitude of shops hoping to draw the attention of adventurers headed to or from the auction house.

The road expanded as it merged with several other paths. Beautiful green shrubbery and multicolored flowers of all sorts lined the path. The farther they got, the more extravagant the greenery grew.

At the end of the path was the auction house. However, it was anything but a simple house. Huge would have been inadequate to describe it. The massive gray building easily stood six stories high. It strongly resembled a colosseum. There were large, open windows on the bottom three levels, while the top three were closed off.

There was a single massive doorway with the doors swung wide open. Huge marble carvings flanked it. A large crowd had gathered before two heavily armored guards who were blocking the entrance.

“Is something going on?” Malissa wondered as they joined the crowd of waiting people. “I don’t remember them regulating if people could enter.”

A bald man with a curly beard glanced in their direction.

“They announced that a rare weapon was going to be sold today,” the man said. “When big stuff like that goes for sale, it draws a lot of people to the auction. That brings out more sellers, so it’s a self-feeding loop. If you guys haven’t been to a big auction before, you’re in for quite the treat. Us small fry have no chance at getting the rarest stuff, but who knows? We might be able to get our hands on a cool little knickknack.”

Malissa thanked him. The crowd seemed to be growing rowdier by the second. People pushed and shoved against each other, each vying for a better view of the auction house entrance. One person bumped into Arek, and his illusion flickered for an instant before snapping back into place. Luckily, everyone was so busy trying to see into the colosseum that nobody noticed it.

“I hope the crowd starts moving soon,” Arek said to Malissa, leaning close so he wouldn’t have to yell over the din. “My illusion isn’t going to hold up to dozens of people constantly bumping into me.”

“We’ll leave if it doesn’t,” Malissa promised. “Unless you think we should leave immediately?”

The crowd surged forward abruptly. The unstoppable tide of flesh picked the Happy Sunflowers up and forced them towards the auction house.

“It’ll be fine!” Arek yelled.

There was no way to communicate quietly at this point. The only person who had any space around him was Belmont, and that was only because anyone foolish enough to press against him got impaled on his spiny armor.

“What’ll be okay?” Belmont called.

Someone bumped into Arek and the illusion flickered again.

Belmont’s brow lowered and his lips thinned. “Ah. That.”

The armored man stepped in front of Arek, forcing the crowds back with a pink shield. Several people shot nasty looks in their direction, but they quickly diverted their gazes when they met Malissa or Belmont’s eyes.

“Is it really wise to irritate people like this?” Arek asked, breathing slightly easier now that there weren’t people squishing against him from every direction.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ming piped up. She’d stuck behind Belmont the entire time, completely avoiding the mulling crowd. That was probably for the best, as the first person to run into her would have probably squished the small mage.

“Ming is right,” Malissa said. “The heavy hitters are already in the auction house. Only the small fry like us have to wade through the crowd to get inside. Besides, it’s not like we’re intentionally antagonizing people. They’re the ones trying to push into us.”

“Fair enough,” Arek agreed.

They huddled around Belmont and his protective shields, slowly making their way through the crowd towards the entrance. It took nearly ten minutes just to reach the doors. The guards were allowing a stream of people in at a constant rate.

A thin man watching from the sidelines dashed forward, muscling past the crowd. He darted behind the guard and tried to leap through the doors. An invisible force knocked him out of the air. He shot backwards several feet, crumpling to the ground with a cry of pain. Nobody seemed particularly sympathetic towards him. A few people even jeered.

“I see they take their security quite seriously,” Arek observed.

“They wouldn’t be able to sell anything of value if they didn’t,” Belmont said.

“I bet they’ve got a bunch of really tasty food,” Ming said dreamily.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Malissa said, glaring at the small mage. “You’re welcome to bid with your share of money, but if you don’t win, we’re not getting into another fight, you hear me?”

Ming waved her hand dismissively. Malissa frowned, but they’d reached the front of the crowd. Even with Belmont’s shields keeping people at a distance, holding the horde of people back would be a death sentence.

The four of them approached the doors. Arek could feel the eyes of the guards boring into him. Somehow, he knew for a fact that the two men had completely seen past the disguise. For an uncomfortably long second, the guards turned to watch the Happy Sunflowers enter the auction house.

Then the crowd surged forward once again. The guards turned back, and the Happy Sunflowers slipped away into the much more peaceful innards of the colosseum.

The room sloped sharply downwards like a sinkhole. Thousands of wooden chairs arranged in neat circular rows surrounded a huge, extravagant stage. Statues of golden dragons twirled around the edges of the stage, prostrating them before it.

Four large braziers floated above the stage, lighting it with a warm glow. The rest of the room was dimly lit with faint torches that made it difficult to see the surroundings. For some reason, not a single speck of light from outside had seeped in past the doorway. The ceiling was far above them, shrouded in so much darkness that Arek couldn’t even make it out. There were at least two floors above them that the orc could spot, and he suspected there were even more beyond that.

“Follow me, please,” a man with a smarmy voice whispered in Arek’s ear. He spun, barely keeping himself from smacking the shadowy figure standing beside him. “I am here to guide you to your seats. Please move quickly.”

Unable to even exchange a glance in the syrupy blackness surrounding them, the Happy Sunflowers opted to trail behind the employee. They were led away from the crowd and the little remaining light coming from the doors. The man led them down several flights of stairs and into a row before gesturing to a group of empty seats.

“You may sit here for the duration of your stay at the Dragon’s Dance Auction House,” the man said, inclining his head in what might have been a bow. “Have you attended an auction with us before?”

“Once,” Malissa said. “It was a long time ago, though.”

“It is a pleasure to have you back. I presume you do not have an account with us, then?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“No problem at all. However, I will need to verify the amount of gold you have on you. We need to ensure that you can afford to back up your bids. If you set up an account, this process can be expedited in the future.”

Arek didn’t have to see Belmont to know the man was frowning. He hid a chuckle and pulled his sack of coins out of his travel pack. He handed it to the employee.

“I know how much I’ve got in there,” Arek warned.

“Of course, sir. I wouldn’t think of it,” the man said.

Arek’s gaze narrowed and he watched the employee like a hawk as the man shuffled through his bag. Once he finished, Arek took the bag back and counted through it himself. It was practically impossible to tell what the coins actually were, but it weighed about the same. Arek resolved to count his money before he entered the auction house in the future.

The employee scanned through all of the money the group offered him. When he got to Belmont, the man woodenly placed a single coin in the employee’s hand.

“Is one gold all you’ve got today? I’m afraid you won’t be able to buy anything with a single gold,” the employee said with mock disappointment.

Belmont wordlessly took his coin back from the man, placed it on the armrest of the chair beside him, and placed a second coin in the man’s hand.

“You can’t be serious,” the shadow-cloaked man said. “Do you really think I’d be foolish enough to steal from a customer in the middle of the auction house?”

“Yes,” Belmont said, removing the coin and placing yet another one in his hand. “That’s three, by the way. Just in case you lost count.”

He repeated the process until he’d gone through fifty coins. The man huffed and complained the entire time, but Arek noticed he didn’t actually leave. Once Belmont had finished, the man threw up his hands and made a disgusted gesture towards their chairs.

“Just sit here and wait for the auction to start. It should be about half an hour,” he said before storming back towards the door.

Belmont swept his coins back into his bag and sat down on a chair. He sent an uncomfortable glance over his shoulder and placed his hand on his travel pouch.

“I do not like this new darkness spell they’re using,” Belmont said. “It makes it far too easy for a thief to make away with our belongings. Keep a close eye on your bags, everyone.”

“For once, I don’t think you’re being paranoid,” Malissa agreed. “This wasn’t here the last time we visited. They’ve clearly made a few upgrades, if we can call it that.”

Ming harrumphed and crossed her arms. “They better have something worth eating,” the small mage grumbled. “How did that guy even know how much money we had? I can barely tell the difference between a silver and a gold with this light.”

“He was probably using some sort of spell that let him see in the dark,” Arek suggested. “Maybe an enchanted item. Who knows? Maybe the auction house is selling dark vision pendants and is trying to show how useful they’d be by making it impossible for everyone to see anything.”

They chuckled as they sat down. At the very least, nobody would be looking too closely at Arek’s illusion. The orc hugged his travel pack to his chest and turned to peer back at the entrance. He could still see the crowd pouring into the building, but it was difficult to track where they were going. The moment they stepped away from the door, they seemed to blend in with the rest of the room.

He turned back and sat normally, trying to get comfortable on the hard wooden chair. There was a strange box poking out of the armrest that made it difficult to rest his hands properly. Arek frowned and leaned down so he could get a better look at it.

“It’s the bidding button,” Malissa said, noticing Arek’s interest. “It doesn’t work yet, but when you see something you want to bid on, you press that button and say how much gold you’re willing to spend.”

“Are you telling me that every chair in this room is an enchanted item?” the orc asked, his eyebrows raising in shock. Even in his travels on the other side of the kingdom, a show of wealth in this proportion was ridiculous.

“I—huh. I guess I am,” Malissa said with a frown. “How do they have so much money?”

“Probably from mugging stupid tourists who let their employees shuffle through their money in the dark,” Belmont grumbled.

Arek wasn’t exactly sure how long they sat in the darkness. The stream of people from the crowd slowly dropped to a trickle. Somehow, not a single seat near the Happy Sunflowers had been taken. Arek could just barely see a few dark forms shifting around near the stage and at the other end of the room.

“I wonder how many people are actually here,” Arek said quietly. Something about the atmosphere made him want to remain silent. Maybe that was the point. “It’s so hard to see who else is in the crowd that if you told me we were alone, I might have believed you.”

“The room is about half full,” Ming said.

The four of them turned to her in surprise.

“You can see?” Belmont asked.

“A bit. There are faint outlines around people. Some are easier to see than others, though.”

“An effect of whatever was done to your eyes, perhaps?” Belmont asked. He shifted in his chair, moving so he could keep an eye on Ming. “Are you noticing any strange feelings or other nonstandard reactions?”

Ming scratched her chin and tilted her head. “Well, I’m a little hungry.”

“We should contact Magus,” Belmont said, crossing his arms. “Something might be trying to take over Ming’s body.”

“Belmont, if something was really trying to control Ming, I doubt it would give her night vision first,” Malissa said. “I agree that this is a side effect of that spell, but I don’t think it’s dangerous—unless Ming feels uncomfortable?”

Ming shook her head. When she realized that they could barely make out the motion, she repeated it aloud.

“Then there we go,” Malissa said. “So far, all that spell has done is helped us. That doesn’t mean I trust it, but I don’t think we should drop everything and panic at something like this. Magus is already looking into things. If something was seriously dangerous, he’d find us.”

Belmont drew a breath, then let it out and shook his head. “I suppose you’re right. But the moment something feels off, we’re finding Magus immediately.”

A low rumble filled the auction house. The Happy Sunflowers turned to see the massive doors grinding shut behind them. The last traces of daylight winked out, although that didn’t really affect the dark building. The torches around the stage dimmed. Then fire erupted out from them, reaching several feet into the sky. The flames lowered to a more reasonable level, revealing a tall man standing in the center of the stage.

He wore a tall purple top hat with a matching suit. Gold buttons traced down his lapel, and his cuffs were trimmed with shimmering dragons that resembled the ones surrounding the stage. He dropped into a bow so low that his nose nearly touched the ground.

“Good adventurers!” the announcer called. “Welcome to the Dancing Dragon. For those of you that do not know me, my name is Alfons. I will be your host for tonight. Now, before we begin, I would like to draw your attention to a few ground rules. First, please locate the large wooden button on your right-hand side and press it.” His voice was impossibly loud and incredibly slimy. Arek had absolutely no doubt the man could sell a pair of wings to an angel.

Arek reached out and followed Alfons’ instructions, pressing gently on the wooden box. It slid into the chair with an audible click before raising back up to its original position. Alfons waited for a few moments to allow everyone to test out the button before he continued.

“That is how you will bid. Simply state the amount of money you are putting up after you press the button. So long as you don’t scream, nobody else will be able to hear you speaking. However, I will announce the current highest price. You may also notice that, if you are on the first floor, it is impossible to see your fellow adventurers. That is a privilege reserved for the higher floors. This is to ensure your safety and stop would-be robbers from liberating the winners of the auction from their prizes.”

“So the robbers just have to get to one of the higher floors,” Belmont scoffed. “Let me guess—we need to pay to get on the higher floors.”

“I’m sure many of you are wondering how to get on the higher floors,” Alfons continued. “You may reach the second floor by proving you have a sufficient amount of money. We will also run a very basic background check on you. For the floors above that, they are reserved for C-rank and higher adventurers. Our special guests and royalty are also entitled to sit upon our highest floor.”

Alfons paused for a moment, as if he were waiting for a response from the crowd. When none came, he just lifted his hat slightly and spread his arms out wide before him.

“Fantastic! You all understand. Now, some of you might also have some goods to put up for auction. If you do, press that big button on your chair now. A small portal will appear in front of you. Simply place your items within the hole. Our associates will review them and, if they are approved, add them to the auction. They will also be identified, free of charge. If they are not up to standard, they will be returned. Please keep in mind that you will not receive the full profit from any sale. We will take a cut, as will the city of Riverfall.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Alfons waited as everyone shuffled around for whatever goods they wanted to sell.

“Do you think we should sell the metal bars we found from the chests at the end of the dungeon?” Ming asked.

“Probably not yet,” Malissa said after thinking for several moments. “We don’t know what they do. They could end up being useful. We should get them identified first.”

“What about the jagged sword from the River Crypt?” Arek asked.

“I think so,” Malissa said. “It’s worth more to us as gold. Unless Belmont feels any attachment to it, nobody else here uses a sword.”

“I don’t,” Belmont said. “I would have to put it through rigorous testing to ensure it wouldn’t break in me in the middle of combat. I don’t trust any weapon I haven’t made myself.”

“Wait,” Arek said as he pressed the button at the side of his chair, “you smithed your own sword?”

A small portal churned to life in front of Arek. It was about the size of a man’s head. The only reason the orc could even see it in the darkness was the flecks of white light shimmering within it like the starry night sky.

“Of course I did,” Belmont scoffed. “A different smith might have intentionally left a flaw. I could not trust someone other than myself for something that important.”

“I am somehow both shocked and unsurprised at the same time,” Arek said, chuckling. “Only you would learn the art of blacksmithing exclusively to make your own sword.”

Arek tossed the jagged sword they’d gotten from the boss of the River Crypt into the portal. It vanished with a pop. A similar portal appeared in front of Malissa. The tall woman pulled the large axe they’d taken from Greenridge Dungeon out of her extradimensional bag and stuffed it into the portal. She tossed several other smaller items that Arek couldn’t make out into it as well.

A few moments later, the portals vanished. Alfons clapped his hands and the braziers flickered in response. He waited a few moments to ensure everyone was paying attention before starting again.

“And with that, we shall begin the auction! As always, we shall start with the lower-cost items and slowly make our way upwards. As we wait for any items that were submitted today to be appraised, I’d like to bring your attention to a very special shield!”

Alfons raised his hands theatrically. The pillar shimmered as if it had been enveloped in a heat wave. The air above it twisted and warped. A large metal buckler slid into being upon the pedestal. At the same time, a large image of the buckler flickered to life in the air above Alfons.

“This shield was found in a D-rank dungeon. It is made of sturdy metal and offers some basic protection against fire-based attacks. We shall be starting the bidding at one gold.”

There were several moments of silence.

“That doesn’t sound particularly interesting,” Arek whispered as he leaned over to Malissa. “Doesn’t all metal have at least a little protection against fire?”

“He did say we’d start with the cheaper items,” Malissa said.

Almost reluctantly, a single ding rang out through the darkness. Alfons almost looked surprised, but he quickly lifted his hat into the air.

“And we have our first bid! One gold, going once…”

He trailed off, hoping for someone else to join in. Nobody did. With a shrug, Alfons finished the count.

“And that’s it, folks! One shield, sold. When you are ready to leave, simply stand up and a portal to your new belongings will appear in front of you.”

The boisterous announcer snapped his fingers as the shield vanished and a polished metal helmet took its place. Arek watched on silently as a slew of relatively uninteresting items went up for bidding. A few, such as a strangely shaped axe with some rather beautiful carvings, sold for several gold.

However, none of it caught his eye. The base price slowly rose from one gold to five. By the time it hit ten, the crowd’s interest had increased marginally. Bidders started to spar over items, although nobody seemed eager to spend much money early on.

“Now, this next item is something quite interesting,” Alfons called out. “It’s quite the useful item for enchanters. All sorts of household items need this to power them. You can even use it for some basic weapon enchantments. This is, of course, a Moonrune! We’ve checked to ensure that it’s received the proper amount of moonlight, so fear not. It’ll be starting at fifteen gold.”

Two dings instantly echoed through the hall. A third followed as Arek pressed the button and whispered “twenty.”

“The lead bid is currently twenty gold! Is anyone else interested?”

A fourth ding rang out. However, this one seemed to be slightly deeper than previous ones had been.

“What a move! The Moonrune is now forty gold!”

“That was one of the upper floors—maybe two levels above us,” Malissa said. “If they bid on something, it’s probably not worth bothering with. Most of the people up there are C-rank adventurers or nobles. We can’t contest their funding.”

Arek’s jaw clenched and his lips thinned, but he sighed and shook his head, not bidding again. Alfons announced the winner, and the orc watched the Moonrune disappear with a reluctant frown.

“That’s annoying,” Arek grumbled.

“That’s why it’s so much easier to wait until we figured out who won what, and then just—”

“Ming!” Belmont interrupted. “No talking about robbery in public.”

“Right, sorry,” Ming muttered. “Not like we can see anyone anyways. The stupid darkness sucks.”

“And now I see why they implemented it,” Arek said, his bad mood breaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

As the auction continued, a pattern started to emerge. Any of the mildly interesting items were quickly bid on by people in the higher tiers. They often bid twice or even three times as much as the next highest bidder, effectively ensuring their win.

“This is just plain ridiculous,” Arek muttered as an enchanted sword sold for nearly sixty gold. “Are they trying to prove a point?”

“There isn’t much we can do about it,” Malissa said. Her words were calm, but the anger behind them was clear. “They haven’t broken any rules. But what’s the point of spending so much money like this? It’s not like anything that’s sold so far has been particularly important.”

A large battleaxe inscribed with jagged red runes sold for just under twenty gold. Arek rubbed his chin as the weapon vanished from the pedestal and a hammer took its place.

“Honestly, it just seems stupid,” Arek said. “Wasn’t there supposed to be some fancy item sold? Surely they’ll need most of their money to afford that, so why spend so much on useless trash?”

“Well, if everything sells at this price, all we can do is hope that they’re stupid enough to spend a bunch of gold on the things we put up for auction,” Belmont said. “But you’re right. This is quite strange. There’s no point in demonstrating their wealth like this—it doesn’t prove anything. All it does is bring trouble.”

The item on the pedestal changed once more. The newest object for sale was a wooden box about the size of Arek’s palm.

“Listen close, folks!” Alfons called. “This item is special. It doesn’t offer any magical powers or make you stronger in combat. In fact, to most people, it’s completely useless.”

Alfons paused, clearly enjoying the tension building within the shadowy crowd.

“This is a recipe from the Red House written by Uri herself. She said that, when made correctly, it tastes just as good—if not better—than anything else she’s made. Fortunately for us, Uri decided that the dish wasn’t appropriate to the theme of her restaurant, so she has elected to pass it on to another hopeful chef today. Bidding will start at ten gold.”

Arek’s hand pressed the button in the armrest before he could stop to think. He wasn’t about to let such a recipe fall into the hands of the person buying everything. If they got it, he suspected that nobody would ever get a chance to taste the dish.

“Thirty-five gold.”

Two dings followed afterwards.

“The current highest price is thirty-five gold!” Alfons called out.

Another ding rang out.

“Ah, it seems like someone really wants this recipe,” Alfons said. He almost looked nervous. “But… is it really worth it? The highest price is now forty gold!”

“Fifty gold,” Arek said as he pressed the button again.

“Things are really heating up. It looks like two chefs have both set their eyes on the recipe! Unfortunately, only one of them is going to get it.” Alfons actually did a good job of looking disappointed. A thin sheen of sweat had started to trickle down his forehead.

There was a long pause. Alfons started to count down. Before he could reach zero, one more ding echoed through the room. The announcer’s eyes widened slightly. He cleared his throat and readjusted the top hat on his head.

“Would you look at that? The price has just been raised to seventy-five gold.”

“Couldn’t you just ask Uri to teach it to you?” Ming whispered.

“If she wanted to teach me, she would have told me,” Arek replied. “She’s a busy woman, and you don’t just give out recipes for free.”

“You do,” Ming pointed out.

“Well, that’s different. Raud was serving garbage. It was my duty to set him back on the right track.”

The orc pressed the button again. His eyes were steely and determined, and his lips were pulled back in a challenge. “One hundred.”

Alfons nearly choked. He masked it by coughing into his sleeve and dropping into a ridiculously out-of-place bow. A trickle of sweat ran down his face, but the man wiped it away before anyone could notice.

“Now even I’m curious. The first chef has raised his or her bid to one hundred gold! I knew Uri was a brilliant cook, but I had no idea people would value her recipe this much.”

Alfons started to count down once again. He paused for several extra tense seconds at one, but finally reached zero when nobody attempted to contest Arek again.

“Sold!” the announcer called. His voice was considerably less enthusiastic than before, and he had a slight grimace. The box vanished from the table, replaced by a large metal breastplate.

Arek crossed his arms and sat back with a satisfied smirk.

“Did you just pay one hundred gold for a recipe?” Malissa asked him.

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that… a little excessive? I didn’t realize you even had that much money.”

“It’s from the money I earned cooking,” Arek said. “I couldn’t let something like this waste away in some rich moron’s basement.”

“Fair point,” Malissa conceded, sitting back with a laugh.

“Did anybody else notice that Alfons seemed unhappy that Arek won?” Belmont asked. “That seems concerning. Shouldn’t he be happy that he made a lot of money?”

“I thought he was just holding in a fart,” Ming said. “He kind of had that expression. Or maybe he failed to hold it in, but it was actually—"

She trailed off. Malissa’s disapproving gaze bore into the smaller mage, even through the shadows.

“Never mind,” Ming said meekly.

Belmont didn’t take notice of the exchange. His hand rested on the comforting hilt of his sword as he chewed his lower lip. Something was askew, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Could it be some sort of power play?” Belmont suggested. “Maybe a guild is trying to demonstrate their strength by buying every single thing at the auction today.”

Another sword sold for a ludicrous price. Arek nodded. Belmont’s theory made sense, even if it wasn’t the smartest move a guild could make. There were plenty of better ways to demonstrate strength, but the orc had to admit that buying every item at an auction would certainly make anyone the talk of the town.

“Only one way to find out,” Arek said, a wicked grin crossing his face. “Is it just me, or do you guys also suddenly want that sword back?”

It only took a moment for understanding to cross Malissa’s face. She laughed, the sound muted by the strange spell surrounding them, and rubbed her chin with a thoughtful frown that only she knew existed.

“I do, actually. The axe as well. Unfortunately, we can’t just take them back out of the portal.”

“In that case, I’m afraid that we have no choice,” Belmont said with a predatory smile. “Those weapons simply just have too much sentimental value. We’re going to have to bid for them.”

CHAPTER SIX

They waited patiently for several minutes. There was no guarantee that their items would be chosen to get featured in the auction, but half of the other things that had gone up for sale weren’t even enchanted, so Arek wasn’t particularly worried.

“Quick question,” Malissa whispered. “Not that I object or anything, but is there a reason we’re messing with whoever this is? If we’re right and this is a guild, they’re not going to be very pleased about getting messed with.”

There were several moments of silence.

“I’m not too pleased with them pumping up the price of my recipe,” Arek finally answered. “This is a good way to make some money back. If they were willing to go up to seventy-five gold for this, who knows what they’ll pay for enchanted weapons? Think of what we could get with a thousand gold.”

“I will say that I doubt this darkness protects us much against the people on the floors above us,” Belmont said. “There’s a good chance they’ve been given a way to see through it, especially those on the highest floors. We’re certainly inviting trouble our way by doing this.”

“And you’re okay with it?” Malissa asked, shocked. “Am I hearing this correctly? Belmont, the most paranoid and cautious person I’ve ever met, is willing to take a risk that he doesn’t need to?”

“Well…” Belmont trailed off. He cleared his throat. “Look, that’s a lot of money. Besides, we aren’t doing anything illegal. You saw what happened to the Starpiercers. The guild might get mad, but we don’t have any plans of joining one anyways.”

“It’s also fun,” Ming giggled. “And money means more food.”

“At least one of us hasn’t changed,” Malissa said, rolling her eyes even though nobody could see her.

The group quieted down once again, watching Alfons as the price of the items for sale steadily increased to hundreds of gold. Of course, they were still selling for several times what they were worth.

A sword with a sharpening enchantment that Arek wouldn’t have used for a toothpick sold for a hundred and fifty gold. The orc fought to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head. Even as a practicing C-ranked adventurer, that amount of gold hadn’t been trivial.

He didn’t get to consider the ramifications of a guild able to spend that amount of gold. As the sword vanished from the pedestal, a familiar-looking axe appeared upon the pedestal. Arek had to peer closer to make sure.

The orc’s initial thought was right. It was the weapon they’d taken from the dungeon in Greenridge Den. Arek heard the other Happy Sunflowers also lean forward in anticipation as Alfons started his sales pitch.

“This weapon took us a little while to identify! It’s come all the way from Greenridge Den,” Alfons said, pausing to let the crowd absorb his words. “And I know what you’re all thinking. Yes, this weapon was actually looted during the strange infestation that killed several adventuring teams.”

Arek’s eyes narrowed. Alfons spoke of the deaths of the adventurers like it was a selling point rather than a tragedy.

“True to what you would expect, when our mage identified the axe, we found that it has an enchantment that allows you to cover the blade with poison. The poison appears to severely weaken lower-level monsters. It’s not as effective against very powerful ones or bosses, but we believe it will slow them down at the least. As you can imagine, this is quite the useful tool. Imagine how much easier a dungeon would be if the boss’s speed was halved!”

“He just said he didn’t think it would affect powerful monsters as much,” Belmont grumbled. “Filthy salesman.”

Arek grunted in agreement, but he couldn’t deny that Alfons was effective. Within moments, half a dozen dings rang up from the crowd. The orc was relatively confident he heard some come from two floors above them, which was the highest they’d ever originated.

“You’re all smart folks!” Alfons said. “It’s easy to see the value of this axe. But the question was never how smart you were—only a fool would pass up on this weapon. The question is how much money you have! The current high price is one hundred and eighty gold!”

“Holy shit,” Ming said. “Do we even have that much?”

“I do,” Belmont said. “But I don’t have it. It’s hidden in a dozen hideaway houses I’ve got in case we need to escape.”

“That’s hardly useful, then, is it?” Ming griped. “Imagine if we could have pushed it up higher! I could have lived out of a restaurant for the next few months.”

“Just to let you know, we’re not spending all our gold on food,” Malissa said. “For the gods’ sake, we have a chef that can do just as good or better than most of the restaurants here. And don’t forget you owe him ten gold for this week.”

“You went from ‘we’ to ‘you’ pretty fast,” Ming grumbled, sinking into her seat a few inches.

Before they could continue their argument, another ding echoed out. Two more followed it. Alfons cleared his throat and adjusted the hat on his head.

“We’ve got another intense battle going on!” Alfons called. “The price is now two hundred and fifteen gold!”

Arek blew out a surprised breath. Alfons started to count down, but no more dings came. Once again, the same person who had been bidding on everything won the axe. They were even willing to bid more than the people on the higher floors.

“We can use the money we just won to push the price of the jagged sword up,” Malissa said. “If they put it up for auction, that is.”

“Are you sure? What if nobody else bids on it?” Belmont asked, frowning. “We’ve already gotten quite a bit of money...”

“No backing out now, Belmont,” Malissa said. “You were the one who said it, not me. There’s a lot to earn from this. If we could push the price of the sword up to a few hundred gold, we’re going to be quite wealthy. Don’t forget the guild still owes us a reward as well.”

Belmont clenched his jaw and nodded. They returned their attention to Alfons as the auctioneer brought up the next item: a large wooden staff with ribbons of metal intertwined like a rainbow within it.

“We’re getting to the fancy stuff now, folks!” Alfons called. “This staff was found in a C-rank dungeon. It amplifies the power of the mage using it, just like all other staves. However, this one has a particular affinity with earth. We believe it can nearly double the power of an earth spell!”

The magical silence enveloping the room wasn’t enough to completely control the murmurs that rose up from the crowd. Arek didn’t have to see anyone to feel the tension in the room suddenly raise.

“It’s too bad it doesn’t help pure magic,” Ming said wistfully. “It’s pretty.”

“If it had anything to do with pure magic, Magus probably would have confiscated it,” Belmont said. “Maybe you should ask him for one.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Ming said happily.

“You know, I think I might have just made a mistake,” Belmont said after a moment. “You’ve already got so much energy to work with—I don’t even want to imagine the havoc you’ll cause with a good staff. I suppose it’s too late for you to pretend I never said that?”

Ming gave a cheerful whistle as dings rang out through the room. Belmont sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“The current price for the staff is one hundred gold!” Alfons called.

Five more dings shot off in rapid succession. Two came from the floors above them, and one seemed to be deeper than any of the previous noises.

“That might have been the third or fourth floor,” Malissa said.

“And just like that, the price is now three hundred gold!” Alfons called, raising his hat and letting out a slow whistle. “But is that really all this staff is worth? Imagine missing out on an opportunity to double your power. You’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

Three more dings came. One was the deep noise from the higher floors, while the other two were both on the first floor.

“Someone doesn’t want to share,” Alfons said with a barking laugh. “The price is now four hundred and fifty gold!”

“Who won it?” Malissa asked, frowning. “Was it the same people on the first floor? Or was it the person on the higher one?”

“There’s no way for us to know,” Belmont replied. “The staff was quite impressive, but don’t forget that everyone came here for some mysterious weapon that will probably go up at the end of the auction. If they want to win, spending four hundred and fifty gold on a staff isn’t exactly going to help.”

“So the people winning everything aren’t going to try for the big weapon at the end?” Ming asked.

“I hope not,” Belmont said. “I dread to think what sort of terrifying entity would have the financial power to spend so much money in such an insignificant auction. Riverfall’s auction house is nice, but it’s by no means the biggest one in the Bludon Empire. I just can’t see what they stand to gain from this, and that worries me.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Malissa said. “It’s just some guild doing a power play. They’re not going to care at all about a group of F-rank adventurers.”

“We are about to annoy them,” Arek pointed out. “They might care a little.”

“And? You saw what happened to the Starpiercers when they tried something inside the city.”

“Fair enough,” Arek said. “But I’m going to hesitantly take Belmont’s side on this. We should probably make for the road as soon as Magus lets us. Riverfall has been fun, but we’ve got no shortage of enemies here.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Several other weapons came and went, but none of them reached as high as the staff did. Arek was just about to lose hope of their weapon appearing in the auction when the weapon in question shimmered into existence on the pedestal.

“We need to immediately raise the bid as high as possible,” Arek said urgently. “Most of the other stuff has sold for no more than a few hundred gold. If we put all our money down at the front, we might scare the guild into paying more.”

“We won two hundred and fifteen gold from the axe, and I’ve got about ninety on me,” Malissa said. “Should we bid a flat three hundred gold?”

“That’s our best bet,” Arek said. The nervous excitement within his chest started to grow. Arek found himself thankful that the strange runes had cured his control issues—otherwise, he might have lost it then and there.

“…now, this jagged sword was removed from River Crypt. The more savvy adventurers in the audience know that this is actually the boss’s sword. This particular iteration of the River Crypt boss had quite the interesting weapon, even if it’s a bit gruesome. We’ve discovered that any cuts made with this sword cannot be healed magically. That could be quite useful for any dungeons containing monsters with healing properties, so this is quite the find!”

Malissa pressed the button on her chair and whispered her bid. As the ding echoed out, Arek watched Alfons’ expression closely. The very magic that made the stage easier to see worked against the auctioneer.

For an instant, the man’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled down in anger. The expression vanished a moment later, but Arek was confident this time. He wasn’t happy that they’d bid.

Six more dings of varying intensities followed Malissa’s. The auctioneer adjusted his hat.

“Three hundred gold off the start!” he called out, adding a slow whistle. “Now that’s a determined bidder. But is that really all—”

Two more dings cut him off mid-sentence. The Happy Sunflowers collectively heaved a sigh of relief, and it looked like Alfons might have done the same.

“Six hundred and forty gold! What a jump!” Alfons cheerfully cried.

No more dings followed.

Alfons didn’t bother with delaying the count this time. He rattled it off and the sword sold for six hundred and forty gold. Ming let out a cheer, and Arek found himself tempted to join her.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this much money before—he’d earned more in a single hour when he was a C-ranked adventurer. The difference was the method he used to earn the money.

In his past, holding the gold he’d earned formed a dense knot in his stomach. It felt rancid and wrong, stained by the actions he’d taken to get it. But now, Arek found himself excited, even if he didn’t know what they’d use the money for.

Once the sword had vanished from the pedestal, a chest plate to rival Belmont’s took its place. It was made of a dark metal and completely covered with barbs and spikes. The shoulder pads twisted upwards in an almost regal fashion.

Dim gray light flickered around the armor. It was difficult to see with all the lighting on the stage, but it was still apparent.

“That armor is enchanted with something strong,” Belmont said, leaning forwards.

“Looking for an upgrade?” Arek asked.

“Just taking inspiration. I’m not buying armor that somebody else made.”

“I’m not going to ask where you found the time to learn how to blacksmith,” Malissa grumbled. “We haven’t been apart for more than a week in the past ten years.”

Alfons announced that the armor had an enchantment that allowed it to change shape and control its spikes. The price quickly launched to five hundred gold. Belmont grunted. Despite his words, Arek suspected the man had been quite interested in the armor.

“Is there anything in particular we want to use our money for?” Malissa asked as the armor started to edge its way into the six hundreds. “Normally the auction is the best place to find unique goods, but it looks like everything is going to be incredibly overpriced this time.”

“Aside from Arek, I don’t think any of us have any particular things we want,” Belmont said. “We’ve all got stuff we’d happily impulse buy, but that’s not as important. We should figure out what our next goal is.”

“I know what I want!” Ming protested. “Food isn’t an impulse buy. It’s an investment to let me continue using a lot of magic.”

“If it was really just an investment, you’d eat plain but filling food,” Belmont pointed out. “That would save you hundreds of gold.”

Ming harrumphed and didn’t grace him with a response. The set of armor hit eight hundred and fifty gold, but the dings didn’t show any signs of slowing down. It had gathered the attention of quite a few people, and they weren’t content to sit around and let the strange guild win this as well.

“I think we should try to get more powerful,” Malissa said. “It’s never been a priority to me before, but I think I’d like to become a powerful adventurer. I mean, look at Magus. He just does whatever he wants, and he’s only a B rank! Imagine what we could do if we got that strong.”

“Becoming powerful would be a great way to become safer,” Belmont agreed. “Although it’s likely to bring us enemies as well. You don’t grow to B or even A rank without drawing ire from people, especially if we aren’t in a guild.”

“We’ve already got a good amount of enemies,” Arek said, chuckling. “We might as well get stronger. I’m surprised to see myself saying this, but I think I’d also like to get stronger. I’ve been scared of my power for years. If whatever that arch did to me really fixed it, I’d like to do some good in the world. Besides, all of the rarest ingredients are deep within the more dangerous dungeons.”

“Stronger means more food,” Ming said. “I’m with you guys.”

The armor finally sold for just under a thousand gold. Another sword took its place, but the Happy Sunflowers weren’t particularly interested in new weapons at the moment.

“Well, this is fantastic,” Belmont said. “We’ve come to the same conclusion that every other adventuring team figured out on their first day.”

“Better late than never,” Arek said. “But now we have to figure out how we’ll actually get stronger. Training is one thing, but it won’t take us past C rank.”

“Belmont and I need to study the books Magus gave us,” Ming said. “And if you’re going to be using magic, you might need to try to get your hands on some magic books as well. Although I don’t think you tested in as a mage, so I’m not sure if you can get one easily. Also, don’t you need to pick out a school of magic?”

“No. I don’t have any magic inherently. The runes aren’t actually a part of my body, so I can’t change what they do.” Arek grimaced. He didn’t say it aloud, but there was a way to improve the runes. It just meant finding someone he had no desire to see again. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find a way to get stronger, even if it’s just through physical strength. Not all the high-ranking adventurers are mages.”

A wave of murmurs broke through the magically induced silence. The party paused their conversation and looked down at the stage. The pedestal was empty. Alfons spread his arms wide and remained silent for a few more moments to build tension.

“That’s the last item of the normal auction! It’s just about time for our main event! But first, a message from our sponsor. The magically induced darkness protecting our identities today has been brought to us by the Shadowwalk guild. They work quickly and efficiently, and as you all saw today, they’re quite effective. If you’re interested, contact them and speak the keyword ‘Dancing Dragon’ for a fifteen percent discount on your first purchase!”

The magical silence wasn’t enough to suppress the groan that rose up from the crowd.

Once the complaints had vanished under the blanket of silence, Alfons struck a dramatic pose that would have looked ridiculous had the braziers surrounding him not erupted with fire.

Four molten pillars arced through the air, twisting together above Alfons and forming into the shape of a flaming dragon. The dragon reared back and let out a roar. A wall of wind buffeted Arek, forcing the orc to grab his hat before it blew off his head.

Ming was slower to the punch. Her pie hat was lifted off her head, but Belmont snatched it out of the air and plopped it back onto the mage’s head.

The dragon leapt through the air, darting over the crowd and leaving tiny, glowing motes of orange light in its wake. It made a full circle before charging straight towards Alfons. The announcer made no move to block it. The fire slammed into him and an enormous explosion rocked the room.

The fire faded away, revealing Alfons. He’d been wreathed in flames, but his expression was anything but panicked. The auctioneer dropped into a low bow, tipping his burning hat as the pedestal beside him started to shine.

A flash filled the room for an instant, obscuring the stage. When Arek’s sight returned to him, a crystal ball in a beautiful metal basket rimmed with blue velvet had appeared upon the pedestal.

“I’d like to preface this with a warning,” Alfons called. “This crystal ball can be used by any mage, but they must be at least B ranked or stronger to avoid burning themselves to death. It draws too much energy for anyone else to handle. Now… look closely. This might be the rarest item many of you will ever see.”

Alfons gestured and the ball rose several feet into the air. The large projection mimicked its motion.

“This item is called a Grave Eye. It is a one-time-use item. When a mage activates it, they will open a portal to any of the Higher or Lower Reaches. The caster can then focus on any willing soul residing within them and…” Alfons trailed off, turning as if to make eye contact with everyone in the audience. “Bring them back to life. A complete resurrection. No zombies or timers—it will be as if they never died. While age still applies, if you bring back anyone with enough magical power, it’s unlikely they’ll die of natural causes.”

The murmurs that rose up from the crowd were the loudest they’d ever been. Arek could practically feel the spell straining to keep everyone hidden. Alfons held a hand up and the chattering slowly quieted.

“This item will start bidding at two hundred thousand gold. I’m sure this seems expensive to some of our esteemed purveyors on the first floor, but let me assure you: this price is incredibly low. Remind yourselves that this orb can bring the dead back to life.”

If anyone thought that the insanely high gold value would slow down the bids, they were sorely mistaken. There were no individual dings—it was more of a cacophony. Every single one of the upper floors erupted in noise.

Alfons stood there, listening to the orchestra with a slight smile. It died out over the next few seconds as everyone got their initial bid in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“That portable house with a full-sized kitchen was only one hundred thousand gold,” Arek said. “I could have gotten two of them for this price.”

“It brings someone back to life!” Malissa said. “That’s way more valuable than a house!”

“A house with a kitchen,” Arek stressed. “Big difference. Besides, it only brings back a willing soul. What if your friend doesn’t want to come back to the normal world? I probably wouldn’t. I’d imagine they’re enjoying heaven a lot more. Although, I suppose if I was in the Lower Reaches, I would be quite amicable to getting brought back.”

“Why would you be in the Lower Reaches?” Ming asked, laughing. “That’s for evil people. We’d be in the Higher Reaches. The bar isn’t exactly high, and most of the gods don’t even care as long as you’re half-decent. But… I’m not sure the food up there is any good. Could I even eat if I’m a soul?”

Arek let out a noncommittal grunt. The robe of darkness enveloping all of them obscured his expression, but he turned back to the stage to hide his face anyways.

“The gods haven’t lived for millennia without developing a way to enjoy life,” Arek said. “I’m sure they’ve figured something out. Life without food would just be torture.”

“I could see the benefits of having such an item,” Belmont said, speaking up for the first time in a while. “I don’t fancy the idea of the Higher or Lower Reaches. We have no way of verifying anything about them.”

“Belmont, we literally saw a god visit the capital when we were kids,” Malissa said. “You looked him in the eyes.”

“I recall,” Belmont said. “I also said they were shifty and beady, like a cat who is about to steal the food off my plate.”

“You’ll get a chance to verify the existence of the Higher Reaches eventually,” Malissa said with a laugh. “Just pray it’s later rather than sooner.”

“If it’s all the same, I’ll just try to get my hands on one of those Grave Eye things.”

“You can’t use it after you’re dead. Someone has to do it for you,” Ming said.

“I know. I’d just give it to one of you three,” Belmont said. They all stopped talking. Belmont blinked. “What?”

“It’s nothing,” Malissa said. Arek grunted in agreement. If they pointed out that Belmont actually trusted them, the man would probably booby trap his entire room for the next month.

Throughout their entire conversation, Alfons had been announcing the price of the Grave Eye. It had steadily risen to over a million gold, and it showed no signs of slowing down.

“One million and five hundred thousand!” Alfons called out.

Another ding echoed out before he’d even finished speaking. Alfons’ eyes bugged out as the man did his best imitation of a frog getting squished.

The ding hadn’t come from the top floors. It hadn’t even come from the second floor. It was from the same location as every other winning bid.

“Ah, I’m afraid we’re going to have to verify that you can afford this amount,” Alfons said. “My apologies, everyone. This will only take a few moments.”

“Don’t they check how much money you have before you can bid?” Arek asked. “Why do they need to check again?”

“Don’t ask me,” Malissa said. “Either they’re getting special treatment or there’s something we don’t know. Either way, they must have bid quite a bit of money for that auctioneer to look like that.”

“It’s got to be a large guild making a move to push their way into the city,” Belmont said. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t like much of anything,” Malissa said. Belmont gave an apologetic shrug, but they could barely see the motion in the darkness.

Arek kept his gaze trained on Alfons. He still had a sneaking suspicion the man was hiding something. The auctioneer’s reaction when Arek had won the bid was completely abnormal.

Now that Alfons was bending the rules to help the mysterious person or group of people that had bought out nearly the entire auction, Arek’s suspicions had risen even higher. He was starting to feel like Belmont.

A few minutes later, Alfons raised a hand and cleared his throat to gather the crowd’s attention once again.

“It has been investigated! This bidder does indeed have the gold required to make this bid. The new highest bid is now three million gold!”

Chatters rippled across the auction house. Arek heard several people yell as the magical silence spell faltered under the sudden onslaught of noise. Alfons made a placating motion, desperately trying to calm the crowd down.

“Simmer down, everyone! Some talking is fine, but if you refuse to speak at a reasonable tone, we have the right to remove you by force! Act like adults.”

The muted yelling shifted to grumbling, which was eventually swallowed back up by the spell. Despite that, Arek’s hair was standing on end. He’d been in enough dangerous situations to recognize the signs his body was showing him.

“The crowd is really riled up,” Arek said, keeping his voice low. “This isn’t good. If they could see each other, I feel like it might have turned into a mob.”

“We need to get out of here,” Belmont agreed, starting to rise from his seat. “We’ve got our money. It’s time to go.”

“We can’t,” Malissa said. “They don’t pay us until after the auction is finished. We have to stay until the orb gets sold.”

Belmont swore and sat back down, drumming his fingers impatiently on his armrest.

“We’re leaving at the first sign of a fight,” Belmont said. “We can come back and get our money later. If they try to scam us, we get a mage with a truth spell involved.”

“That works,” Malissa said. Her voice was tense as well.

Arek grunted in agreement. Of the four of them, Ming seemed to be the only one actually enjoying the show.

Alfons started the countdown. This time, there were no dings. Three million gold was clearly more than most people were willing to pay, even for something as rare as this.

Before the auctioneer could finish, a single deep tone rang through the house. Everyone other than Arek glanced upwards involuntarily. It had definitely come from one of the highest floors.

While everyone else was distracted, Arek kept his eyes firmly on Alfons’ expression. It was fast, but the orc was expecting it. A flicker of fear mixed with anger passed over the auctioneer’s expression before he got it back under control.

“Now, why would an auctioneer be angry if someone raises a bid?” Arek mused silently to himself.

“What?” Malissa asked.

Not looking away from the still-flaming Alfons, Arek said, “The auctioneer is acting strange. I’m trying to figure out why that might be.”

“The bid has been raised to four million gold,” Alfons called out, enunciating each word like they left a bitter taste in his mouth. Before he’d even finished speaking, another ding rang out from the first floor. “And the bid is up once again! It is now at five million and five hundred thousand gold!”

There it was—a note of relief in his voice that Arek would have missed had he not been watching for it. The orc’s eyes narrowed. Malissa also seemed to note the man’s tone, as a small frown appeared on her face.

Murmurs echoed through the crowd again, but the shock was wearing off. Everyone apparently had the same thought at once: two rich tycoons were battling in a show of dominance and wealth. Whoever was in the top floor seemed to have been cowed by the massive bid.

Alfons started the countdown again, this time reaching zero without issue. He bowed as the Grave Eye disappeared from the pedestal. The braziers started to dim around him.

“Sold! I thank you all for coming to the Dancing Dragon Auction House, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the show. We will be resuming our normal auctions in several days, so keep your eyes peeled. You may now press the button at your armrest to retrieve any won goods, money, or unsold items!”

Arek clicked the button. The small portal opened before him once again. He reached inside and pulled out a sack of coins. It was hard to tell for sure, but the weight seemed to be about right. He also found the wooden box with Uri’s recipe inside it. He placed the box within his travel pack.

Malissa pulled out her own spoils and put them in her extradimensional bag. Arek handed her his bag so she could store it as well.

“Time to go,” Belmont said. “Now.”

They rose, moving quickly towards the exit. The huge doors had already started to swing open. Arek spotted several other dark forms moving in the exit’s direction as well. The thought suddenly struck him that people didn’t know who the bids had come from, but they did know where they’d originated.

“Shit,” Arek muttered. “If they see us, they’re going to know who we are. I can see the other people moving, so they can see me.”

“Too late to worry about that now,” Belmont replied as the four made a beeline for the doors. “Something tells me that the magical darkness was less effective the higher up you were in the auction house. The anonymity was just there to protect the big fish.”

The guards at the doors didn’t pay the group much attention as they scurried outside. Belmont immediately took command of the group, pushing them towards an alleyway and out of sight of the main road.

They walked at a brisk pace but tried to look as natural as possible. People were less likely to remember their passing if they didn’t stand out.

Belmont led them down the twisting side paths and shadowed streets of Riverfall, not pausing for even an instant. As they got deeper into a part of the city that Arek hadn’t seen before, the walls started to show signs of age.

The streets grew dirtier and people’s clothing lowered in quality. Wary eyes tracked their movement and hands clutched their belongings tighter as the Happy Sunflowers passed.

“Is the slums really the best place to go to lose a possible tail?” Malissa whispered.

“Yes,” Belmont replied. “If they show up here, we’ll know for a fact that we were tailed. If they don’t, this will throw people off our trail and make it harder for them to know where we’re staying. Speaking of which, we can’t go back to the adventurer’s guild. We’re too well known there.”

“They’re not going to try something in the city, are they?” Malissa asked. “We saw what happened to the Starpiercers.”

“I have no idea. But we can’t know for sure, and that means we need to plan for it. Besides, nothing stops them from tailing us until we leave the city and then attacking. We need to be cautious. We’re up against someone with an insane amount of money that is very likely holding a grudge against us for stealing an item out from under their noses.”

“How do we know we’re being trailed? Maybe they don’t care,” Ming said.

“Better safe than sorry,” Belmont said as they turned a corner.

A foul smell coming from a pile of trash in the corner of the street assaulted their noses. The four of them covered their noses with a grimace and increased their pace.

“There’s another, possibly more important, problem,” Arek said once they’d passed the trash. “There are several, actually. But they all stem from the same thing. Did anybody else notice that the auctioneer looked angry or unhappy whenever someone other than that rich person won something?”

“Huh?” Ming asked.

“I did,” Belmont said, and Malissa nodded as well.

“I didn’t see it until you pointed it out, but I caught him doing it at the end of the auction,” Malissa said.

A man stepped out from behind a building in front of them, moving as if to walk by the party. He didn’t look in their direction. Belmont moved to stand in between him and the others, then pierced him with a cold glare.

The man inclined his head slightly and adjusted his course, keeping a good distance between himself and Belmont.

“He’s just a pickpocket,” Belmont said. “Don’t worry about them. Arek, do you have any thoughts as to why the auctioneer acted the way he did? I’ve got my own suspicions, but I’d like to hear what you were thinking.”

“I do,” Arek said, “but they’re not very confident. To be honest, I can’t think of many reasons for why someone running an auction house wouldn’t want the price of the sold items to be lower. Not unless he was somehow working with whoever was bidding those high prices.”

“I agree,” Belmont said. “But that just poses a new question. Why would he do that? He might have been bribed, I suppose. It would have to have been quite a large bribe, though. I imagine that auction houses pay well.”

“And that still doesn’t make much sense,” Malissa put in. She raised her hands palm-up and gave them a shrug. “What’s the point of bribing someone to win an auction? They still have to pay or the auctioneer’s boss would have him thrown in jail or worse. If they have the money to bribe him, shouldn’t they have the money to win the auction normally?”

The four of them turned down another alley. As they walked under a building’s shadow, Belmont caught Arek’s eye. Almost imperceptibly, the armored man jerked his chin in the direction from which they’d come.

Arek’s eyes narrowed. He gave a miniscule nod, not breaking from his normal stride. “I don’t think he was bribed, though. They might have been threatening him, but his reactions looked more like an accomplice than a victim. I think he was working with whoever that rich person was. He might not have broken any real rules of the auction house, but I suspect he had an interest in them winning the bids.”

“So why didn’t they throw a few thousand gold to win your box?” Malissa asked. She also gave a miniscule nod as Belmont repeated what he had done with Arek. “If they’ve got the money, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”

They turned another corner. Belmont sped up slightly after catching Ming’s eye as well. The other Happy Sunflowers did the same. Ming shifted to a light jog to keep up with them.

“I suspect it might be because they want to make an example of us,” Belmont said.

They reached a larger area that might have once been a courtyard. The passing of time had taken its toll on the square, reducing fine stone walls to rubble that had been picked apart further by scavengers.

Trash was littered across the floor, mostly along the edges of the courtyard. Of the four entrances that led into it, one had been buried in a pile of stone from a collapsed building. They made their way into the middle of the square, where Belmont stopped, turned around, and drew his pink staff.

Everyone other than Arek also drew their weapons. The orc just stood there, his arms crossed, watching the street that they’d come down.

CHAPTER NINE

Three men emerged from the alleyway and made their way into the square. Each of them wore a set of well-polished leather armor with a hood that obscured their features. The man at their lead had a small green insignia of a demon’s face on his lapel.

“Can we help you?” Arek asked.

“You can drop the games,” the lead man said. “Haven’t you heard it’s rude to talk about people behind their back?” His voice was robust and powerful. It was more akin to a king’s voice than that of someone stalking others through the slums.

“I can’t imagine it’s much worse than tailing people you don’t know with malicious intent,” Arek said.

The same man shrugged. The others didn’t seem particularly keen on saying anything, so Arek suspected that he was the leader.

“Did you just come here to talk? We have places to be,” Malissa said.

“You’re welcome to go,” the leader said. “Just leave that box you won behind. It belongs to us.”

“That’s not how auctions work,” Ming said, selecting a staff and pulling it out of the bundle on her back. “You’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?”

He didn’t respond. The two men at his side stepped forward and drew swords. He held a hand up to stop them from going farther.

“I have no desire to cause needless bloodshed,” the leader said. “It’s just a stupid recipe. Is it really worth throwing your lives away? Just give it to us.”

“And who would ‘us’ be?” Arek asked, his eyes narrowing.

“That’s none of your concern. Let it suffice to know that we have more powerful backing than you could ever imagine. Going against us is a fatal mistake, and one you won’t get to make twice.”

Arek glanced at the rest of the Happy Sunflowers. Malissa and Belmont shook their heads no, while Ming pointed her staff in their stalkers’ direction.

“You do realize you’re outnumbered?” Arek asked.

“A group of F-rank adventurers pose no threat to a group of C ranks, even if you have one more member.”

He knew who they were. Arek heard Belmont curse under his breath. Not only was it likely that the auction house had revealed who they were, but they’d given away information about their team. Arek pulled out his Truesight Artifact and examined the lead man.

Leo Red

Male Human, Age 38

Magical affinity: Body Control

Magical power: 91st Percentile

Magical energy: 61st Percentile

Physical power: 55th Percentile

Karma: -2,108: C-Rank Adventurer

Guild: None

“You might find us harder to deal with than you expect,” Arek warned, cracking his neck. The man was strong, but not unstoppable. “I’ll return your offer to you. We don’t want any bloodshed either. If you leave, we can pretend this never happened.”

“A threat with no teeth,” Leo said.

Arek shrugged. Part one of negotiations had failed. Now it was time for part two. It was a shame, but it wasn’t the first time he’d killed someone, and the orc doubted it would be his last.

“We can’t hold back,” Arek warned. “We’ll worry about the consequences later. Playing it safe will only get us killed.”

He flexed his hand. The runes along his claws lit up, green light spilling out as his guandao materialized beside him.

Leo paused, then let out a booming laugh. He threw his hood back, revealing the battle-hardened face of a warrior. He was bald, with a short salt-and-pepper beard and a scar that ran across his forehead.

“A Blessed One! It truly is my lucky day,” he said, pulling his sleeves back and revealing dozens of miniature runes tattooed into his forearms. Green light flared around him as runes materialized, lifting off his body and forming spinning rings of energy in the air.

“You as well?” Arek asked, faltering. “Wait, Blessed One? Do you know what the green runes are?”

The man let out a booming laugh. “You don’t even know what you have? You must have stumbled across it in a dungeon. Amusing, truly amusing. I’d have loved to chat for longer, but I’m afraid we’re on a schedule. I can’t stop myself any longer, regardless. I’m looking forward to tasting your power.”

The three men started towards the Happy Sunflowers. Arek tossed his bag to the ground.

“I’ll handle the big guy,” Arek growled.

“I’ve got the one on the left,” Malissa added.

Ming wordlessly turned the tip of her weapon to point at the remaining man.

A thought struck Arek, and a grin ran across his face. He tensed the muscles in his legs and charged towards the talkative leader. His target bared his teeth and dashed to meet him.

Arek reached up and ripped the mask off his face. In an instant, his skin turned green and fangs grew from his mouth as he returned to his natural appearance. The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t falter. Arek’s guandao whistled through the air and slammed into the man’s rune-covered arm with a shower of green sparks.

The strike knocked the man’s arm to the side. Arek continued with the attack’s momentum, twisting the weapon and slashing at the man’s other side.

He ducked under the attack and stepped forward, thrusting a hand toward Arek’s chest. The orc whipped the shaft of his weapon into the man’s arm and sent his blow astray.

“What are you?” Leo snarled, all traces of civility gone. Green light flared behind his eyes as the man lunged, striking at Arek’s head.

“I don’t like to speak with dead men,” Arek replied, dodging the attack and thrusting the guandao towards the man’s chest.

Leo cartwheeled backwards, forming and landing on a floating rune circle that launched him at Arek like a human missile. The orc leapt out of the way to avoid getting his chest caved in.

Something told him that he had to avoid contact with the runes spinning around the man’s hands at any cost. A pained cry rose up from behind them, but neither Arek nor his opponent had the luxury to spare a glance back.

Green energy flared again as the runes circling the man’s hands twisted, traveling down his body and stopping at his ankles.

Arek raised an eyebrow. “Your power is flying jewelry?”

“I thought you didn’t talk with dead men,” the man replied. He launched himself towards Arek. The ground cracked under the force of the sudden movement.

Arek barely brought his guandao around to block a vicious kick aimed for his head. It was the orc’s turn to feel a tremor run down his arms as the force of the strike threatened to make him drop the weapon.

“You aren’t fast enough,” Leo laughed, zipping behind Arek and sweeping the orc’s legs out from under him.

Arek rolled as soon as he hit the ground, avoiding the stomp that crashed through the space where his head had been. He lunged at his opponent, but the man flickered, avoiding the strike and appearing several feet to the orc’s side.

“Too slow!” he mocked.

Arek growled. He brought his weapon in closer and waited for the man to make the next move. He didn’t see the brutal strike that slammed into his back, sending him staggering forward. Arek cried out in pain.

The strange man appeared before him, a wicked grin on his face. The runes shifted back to his arms and he lunged forward, driving a fist into Arek’s stomach. The force of the blow lifted the orc into the air and sent him tumbling backwards.

Arek slammed into a wall, which crumbled to dust around him. He forced his aching body to rise before his opponent could follow up on the injury.

“It’s unfortunate you have no idea how to use your powers!” Leo called with a mocking laugh. “For you, that is. For me, this is more fortunate than you could imagine. I suppose you’re lucky that you’ll never have to feel the curse’s command, since this is clearly your first fight.”

Arek didn’t get a chance to wonder about the meaning of his opponent’s words. The man shimmered, reappearing before Arek once again. The runes had shifted back to his feet, but they were already returning to his hands. Arek gritted his teeth and braced himself as a fist drove into his stomach.

Pain erupted throughout Arek’s body, and he nearly doubled over. Sheer force of will was the only thing that kept him from keeling over. He wrapped his left arm around the man, pulling him into a tight hug.

“This will just make things worse for you, fool!” Leo snapped.

Another violent blow slammed into his stomach. Arek muted the pain as his body screamed in protest. With a bloody grin, the orc reversed his grip on the guandao and thrust it through the man’s back with all of his strength.

The weapon punched through Arek’s opponent and continued onwards, piercing the orc and erupting from his back.

“You forgot one thing,” Arek snarled. “I’ve got a healer.”

Leo tried to say something, but the blood filling his mouth made his words come out in an incomprehensible gargle. While the blade had gone through Leo’s heart, Arek was much taller than him, so it had only pierced the orc’s stomach.

Life poured from the man’s body and his struggles ceased. Then he went limp, hanging from the shaft of the weapon like a dead fish.

The guandao dissipated, leaving a large, bloody hole in both men’s chests. Arek grabbed the man by his hair and tossed him to the side. A wave of weakness rippled through his body.

CHAPTER TEN

Arek turned to check on Malissa and Ming, but his hands suddenly lit up with pain like they were on fire. The runes on his claws glowed a pale green even though he wasn’t using them. The light grew stronger and stronger until it was so bright that he couldn’t even look at them.

At the same time, the runes on Arek’s dead opponent lit up as well. Light enveloped the square and a blast of energy rippled through the air. A pillar of energy launched into the sky, and what felt like a barrage of electricity pumped into Arek through his hands. When it finally started to fade, a blanket of bliss enveloped Arek, muting the outside world. He wasn’t sure how long it lasted. When it finally left, and he could think normally again, the fight was over.

The two men that had gone after the rest of the Happy Sunflowers lay dead on the street. One had a smoking hole the size of a dinner plate in his chest, and the other lay in a growing pool of his own blood, daggers jutting out of his stomach and neck.

Belmont rushed to Arek’s side, raising his staff to heal him. He reached the orc, but he didn’t move to use his powers.

“Arek, where did your wound go?” Belmont asked, his voice flat.

“What do you mean?” Arek asked as he looked down at his chest. There was a large hole in his shirt and a small nick in the leather of his bandolier where the guandao had gone through his chest, but his skin was completely unblemished.

“Do you know any healing spells, Arek?” Malissa asked, ripping her daggers free of her fallen opponent and wiping them clean on his clothes.

“I do not,” Arek said. Then, noticing the dangerous expression on Belmont’s face, he rapped on the ground several times, doing the secret knock that the healer had taught him.

Belmont’s features loosened and he let out a sigh, lowering the staff. “Good thinking. I wasn’t sure if you’d been swapped with a mimic of some sort during that flash of light.”

“Where would they have gotten a mimic?” Malissa asked.

“Where did they get the giant pillar of green light?” Belmont replied.

“I think that might have been my fault,” Arek said. He raised his hand so that the rest of the party could see it.

There as a new line of runes circling around his claws. Belmont examined them and let out a grunt. “I don’t recognize most of them, but I see one that I do know. It’s the number one.”

“It’s from killing whoever that man was,” Arek said, nodding in the corpse’s direction. “I’m pretty sure my runes just got stronger, and it happened when I killed him. He mentioned something about being a Blessed One and a curse. I think we might have found out what happened to us when we walked through that portal.”

“The green pillar was a signal,” Belmont said, dropping to his knees beside the man Arek had killed. He flipped him over and started to ruffle through his pockets. “We need to move. Now. That pillar was likely meant to draw more of these Blessed Ones to you.”

“But why?” Malissa asked. “That seems like an incredibly powerful spell without much of a purpose.”

“We could ask Magus,” Ming suggested. “With the amount of pure magic I used to kill that dude, I think he might have noticed.”

No more than a second after Ming had finished speaking, Arek’s ears popped as the air pressure changed. Magus appeared in the center of the square, a large black staff in his hand. He wore the heavy black robes that he’d worn the first time they met him outside of Riverfall.

“You insufferable apprentice,” Magus thundered, pure magic crackling and whipping around him. “Do you have no respect for my time? An enormous pillar of light just launched out of Riverfall, but I had to come check up on this in case it was someone using a dangerous artifact…”

Magus trailed off as he spotted the trio of corpses scattered around the alley. His eyes flicked to the glowing runes on Arek’s hands. “Ah. I see.”

“We were attacked by these people as soon as we left the auction house, demanding what we bought,” Malissa said, nodding at the corpse beside her. “They gave us no choice.”

Magus used the butt of his staff to turn over the man Arek had killed. The blue veins coursing over his body flared as he saw the insignia of the demon’s face on his lapel.

“I see,” Magus said again, his voice cold. He coughed into his sleeve and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You need to get out of the city.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Belmont said, nodding firmly. “Do you know who these people were?”

“Members of the Howler guild, if I had to guess. They’ve been making a move on Riverfall,” Magus replied, speaking quickly. It was clear that the mage wanted to search for the source of the green light, unaware that the cause was standing right before him. “I’d heard that they monopolized the auction house, and I believe they’re making a move on the city.”

“They’re going to start a war?” Malissa asked, distraught. “The adventurer’s guild can’t allow that!”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Magus said. “There will be few casualties. The Howlers plan to assert themselves through gold, not blood. They’ve already swamped the markets with goods at a steep discount to undercut the merchants within the city. They’ll kill a few people to make a point, of course. Unfortunately, they’ll likely be very good at covering up their steps. If the guild catches them in the act of killing inside the city, they’ll be done for.”

“Does this not count?” Arek asked. “You identified them, no?”

“It was an educated guess,” Magus admitted. “Malissa said they were after what you won, and the Howlers were able to buy just about everything in the auction. It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to. If you inspected their bodies, you’d find absolutely nothing to tie them to the guild. They’ll just look like street thugs.”

“We can’t stay in Riverfall any longer, then,” Belmont said. “If we try to get the Howlers in court, we’ll end up disappearing. We aren’t important enough for the guild to put all-day protection on.”

“I’m afraid you’re correct,” Magus said, grimacing. “I’d do it myself, but I don’t have the ability to remain awake all day. You would be much wiser to depart from Riverfall.”

“You should know there’s also a chance that the auction house was working with the Howlers,” Arek said. “Every time someone won a bid that wasn’t the Howlers, the auctioneer got angry. He didn’t even hide it very well.”

Magus frowned and pointed his staff at one of the corpses. A beam of white fire so bright that Arek could barely stand to look at it burst forth, enveloping the man and incinerating him completely. Not even ash remained.

“You four get into more trouble in one week than most people get into their entire life. I will do my best to cover for you. If anyone discovers you’ve killed the Howler guild members, you will be in grave danger. You must leave this city at once. I will say that I gave you a second-class promotion quest based off surprising skill advancement. That’s the only way anyone would believe I sent my apprentice away for a long period of time.”

“We’re getting to rank up again?” Ming asked, eyes widening.

“I have no idea how that’s what you got out of this,” Magus said, rubbing his forehead. “I suppose I should be jealous of your optimism. To answer your question, yes. If you manage to survive this journey, you’ll likely be more than ready to rank up once more. I am sending you all to Red Mount. The guilds have little influence there, so even they would have trouble tracking you that far.”

The name sounded familiar to Arek, but the orc pushed the thought to the back of his mind. It was unimportant, and he could worry about it later.

“Magus, have you heard of something called a ‘Blessed One’? The leader of this group had green runes similar to the ones on my hands and Ming’s eyes. He called me it, and when I killed him, I believe my runes grew more powerful. That was also probably that pillar of green light you saw.”

Magus was standing before Arek in a blink. The mage grabbed the orc’s hand with his surprisingly powerful grip and pulled it up to take a closer look.

“The additional runes are of a different make than your previous ones,” Magus said. “This is incredibly concerning. I know nothing of this ‘Blessed One’ term, but I will look into it. I’ll find a way to keep in contact once you’re in Red Mount.”

“Are you going to teleport us to Red Mount?” Ming asked. “Also, the guild still owes us money for helping them in Greenridge Den.”

Magus rolled his eyes. The air beside him crackled with pure magic and split open, revealing a small rift in reality. He reached inside it and pulled out a bulging leather bag.

“Here. This will be more than what the guild owes you. Just don’t let me catch you trying to accept the reward again at a later date. I will not be teleporting you to Red Mount. There are powerful runes that protect the city and the area around it from teleportation. It’s how the city has remained independent of any guild.”

“So we walk there on foot?” Malissa asked. “I don’t even know where it is. We need to buy a map, get supplies—”

“No time,” Magus snapped, pointing his staff at another body and incinerating it. “The guild has a lot of mages who are adept at investigating crime scenes, and you can be certain the Howler guild put pressure on them to figure out what happened here. I will teleport you to a hamlet a few weeks away from Red Mount. You can get what you need there.”

“I feel like every time we leave Riverfall, it’s at the point of a sword,” Arek grumbled. He reached down and grabbed his mask from the ground. He glanced at it, then tossed it into his travel pack. “I’ve got everything I need on me, though.”

“As do the rest of us,” Belmont said. Malissa and Ming nodded as well, although the tall woman looked reluctant.

“Best of luck, then,” Magus said, incinerating the final body and turning back to face them with a grim expression. “Be cautious. We will meet again soon.”

The mage didn’t give them a chance to respond. A crackle of blue magic wrapped around them and they vanished, leaving Riverfall and Magus behind.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

With a loud pop, the Happy Sunflowers were ejected on a grassy field atop a small hilltop. A short walk away from them, over the top of the next hill, rose a small column of smoke. Arek grimaced and shook his head, shaking off the vestiges of confusion left over from the abrupt teleportation.

“You know, for once, it would be nice to leave the city without being on the run,” Arek complained. “Reminds me a bit too much of my old team.”

“Did they get kicked out of places a lot too?” Ming asked, climbing to her feet and offering Belmont a somewhat useless hand.

The healer took it with a bemused grin, then stood up on his own strength to avoid pulling Ming back to the ground.

“We did,” Arek said, his brow furrowing. “Can’t say we didn’t deserve it, though. Several of our members were pretty bad news for any town—myself included. If you’re interested, I can tell you more about them on the road.”

“That would be fun, if you’re comfortable with it,” Malissa said, doing her best to look apathetic towards the idea but completely failing. “And I agree with your earlier sentiment. It feels like we’re criminals, not adventurers.”

“No point complaining,” Belmont said, shrugging. “We’re alive and we have all our stuff. We’re also quite wealthy, and we’ve got a good chance of getting another rank up. Granted, Ming and Arek have some strange curse on them, so not everything is good. However, Magus is working on it. All things considered, we’ve been in worse spots before.”

“You’re both right,” Arek agreed, standing up and cracking his neck with a sigh. “I’d like to take things a little slower. I feel like I’ve been slingshotting all over the past few weeks. It would be enjoyable to actually stay in one spot for more than a few days.”

The Happy Sunflowers finished getting back to their feet and started down the hill towards the column of smoke.

“Magus is quite the interesting mage,” Malissa said as they walked. “When we first met him, he nearly killed us. Now he’s putting himself at a lot of risk to cover up for us.”

“He’s a man very dedicated to his duty, even if the rest of the guild isn’t,” Belmont said, a note of admiration in his voice. “And I think he’s learned to loosen up a little bit from Ming.”

“It’s hard not to,” Arek said, chuckling. Ming stuck her tongue out at him. “I agree, though. We owe him a lot. He’s doing more than the bare minimum required to be Ming’s mentor.”

The four adventurers crested the next hill and got their first look at the town that Magus had sent them to. The entire thing was visible from atop the hill. It was a good bit smaller than Greenridge Den. Many of the houses were built from a mixture of gray stone and wood, while a single one near the edge was built entirely from stone.

There was no wall, but a ring of spiked logs had been arranged in a rough barricade around the town. It was small enough that only three men were needed to patrol the city. The guards wore strange armor that Arek hadn’t seen before. It seemed to be strips of wood and metal, tied together tightly with some sort of cord. The armor looked light and durable, but it left several spots open on their bodies.

They were nearly upon the town when the first guard spotted them. He did a double-take, almost dropping the long spear he was using as a walking stick before scrambling to plaster an intimidating look on his face. It looked more like he was constipated.

The Happy Sunflowers waited patiently for a few moments as the guard gathered his wits.

“What brings you to East Village?” the guard finally asked. “We don’t get many visitors.”

“We’re just traveling through on the way to Red Mount,” Malissa said. “We were hoping to buy some supplies and a map, if that would be possible.”

“Ah, Red Mount.” The guard lowered the spear and gave them an embarrassed grin. “I suppose I should have guessed. It’s been so long since I saw a strange face that I panicked a bit there. You’re about two weeks of travel away from Red Mount. I’m afraid we don’t have any horses or lizards to ride, but we can probably assist with your supplies problem. You’ll be wanting the general store. Jobben runs it out of the first floor of his house. There’s a sign.”

The guard’s eyes flicked to Arek, who still hadn’t said anything. He cleared his throat as the orc raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, is that an orc?” the guard asked.

“He is,” Ming replied, emphasizing the first word. “He won’t cause any trouble unless someone annoys him.”

“And what does that involve?” the guard asked nervously. He adjusted his grip on the spear and wiped his palms off on his pants. “I can’t let a dangerous creature into the town. We don’t have any trained guards inside it.”

Arek stared mutely at him.

“He’s just pretending to be mute,” Malissa said, sighing. “The orc’s name is Arek, and he enjoys messing with people he hasn’t met—guards in particular. He’s just as intelligent as you or me and he can talk in common.”

The guard glanced from Malissa to Arek. The orc said nothing. Then he scratched his armpit and sniffed his hand.

“Right,” the guard said.

“Arek!” Malissa snapped. “Stop that!”

Arek sent her a dead-eyed gaze. Ming suppressed a laugh, and a small smirk threatened to take root on Belmont’s stern face before he wiped it away.

“We’ll take full responsibility for our big companion,” Belmont said. “I assure you, he’s harmless so long as you don’t try to feed him bad food.”

“Fine,” the guard said, realizing the adventurers outnumbered him four to one. The rust on his armor and the dull-looking spear tip didn’t make a great case for his training either. “And in that case, you’d best keep him away from Maggie’s Tavern. I doubt he’d like what she’s got to offer.”

“Noted,” Malissa said.

The guard stepped aside, still watching Arek warily, and the four of them slipped past the barricade of spiked wood to step into the town.

Even though it was in the middle of the day, not many people were out. Arek caught one or two glances directed their way from behind windows or within buildings, but nobody stepped in front of their path. He had no problem with that—a town as small as this was unlikely to have anything of particular interest to him anyways.

The town was small enough that finding the general store didn’t prove to be a hard task. There was indeed a sign, but it had been so worn down by time and the elements that it was really no more than a blank wooden plaque leaning up against an old wall.

There were metal studs where it had once hung from a rotted signpost above the door, but the rings were long gone. Ming happily ran up to the front of the party and pushed the door open.

A rush of stale air greeted the Happy Sunflowers as they stepped inside the shop. There were half a dozen shelves against the walls and lined up unevenly at the center of the room. Everything from quills to old swords rested on the shelves. At the back of the store, beside a ladder that led to the floor above, was a small counter piled high with wooden crates.

“Hello?” Ming called. “We’ve come for your meat!”

“In the form of jerky!” Malissa quickly added, shooting a glare at Ming. “Supplies, really.”

A wizened man’s face popped out from the hole in the ceiling. Long white hair hung down around him, and he had to push it to the side to get a look at them.

“For my meat, you say?” the man asked.

The head disappeared. A moment later, a short man clambered down the ladder. Arek realized that what he’d seen wasn’t hair as much as a long white beard. In fact, the man was completely bald. The man’s gaze paused on Arek, but it didn’t linger.

“Supplies,” Belmont corrected. “And a map to Red Mount, if you’ve got one.”

“Adventurers, are you?” the man asked. “Well, I’ve got what you want. It’s no fancy feasting, but it’ll cut it until you make it to Red Mount. As for a map, I’ve got ‘em. Ten silver for the lot.”

“Seven,” Belmont said.

“Nine and five copper,” the man instantly replied, stroking his beard.

“Seven and five copper,” Belmont countered.

“Nine silver!” Ming exclaimed.

“Deal,” the man said quickly, darting over and shaking Ming’s hand. “I’ll have it out to you lickety-split. Don’t go anywhere.”

He darted back up the ladder as Belmont let out a heavy sigh. “Really, Ming?”

“He needs the money more than we do, Belmont,” Ming said, rolling her eyes. “Why do we need to haggle over something this cheap?”

She reached into her extradimensional bag and pulled out a familiar-looking straw hat. She donned it and proudly proclaimed the activation phrase, summoning a piece of steaming pie atop her head.

She sat it on the counter, oblivious to the shocked stares her companions were sending her. When she turned around, she raised her hands in the air. “What? I thought he might like some pie.”

“Ming,” Arek said carefully, “did you have that hat while we were in the River Crypt?”

“Yeah. I put it in my bag so it wouldn’t get messed up,” Ming said. “Why?”

Belmont’s eye twitched. “We ate stale jerky and cheese for days on end, and you had access to a gods-forsaken pie hat!” he said furiously. “Did the thought never occur to you that it might be a welcome change of pace?”

“Oh. I kind of forgot I had it,” Ming said, scratching the back of her head.

Even Malissa looked like she wanted to throttle the small mage. She massaged her forehead and closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath to calm herself. “Ming, how do you forget about a hat that’s nearly as long as you are tall?”

“I got hungry. It’s hard to remember things when I’m hungry.”

Arek put a hand on Malissa’s shoulder. The tall woman rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I’d do unspeakable things to figure out what goes on in your head,” Malissa said.

“It’s mostly food,” Ming said.

Arek noticed she glanced away from Malissa as she spoke. A pensive frown flickered across the orc’s face, but he wiped it away as the old man reappeared from the upper floor, a large bag slung over his shoulder.

He handed the bag to Ming, who counted out nine silver and placed it in his palm. Ming took some of the food and put it into her extradimensional bag before Malissa took the bag and stored the rest of it.

“Was the map in the bag?” Malissa asked.

“Give me a second, young lady,” the old shopkeep said, slowly making his way across the store to one of the shelves and starting to shuffle through it. After a few minutes, he pulled a curled piece of parchment from the shelf with a victorious grunt.

He strode back over to the group and handed it to Ming. Ming took it and immediately passed it off to Malissa, who unfurled it. Belmont and Arek peered over her shoulder. It was basic and only depicted Red Mount and the surrounding areas.

The village they were currently in was at the bottom left of the map, marked with a red circle. There were a few landmarks sketched onto the map, and it had a basic legend.

“Was this map made here?” Belmont asked.

“It was,” the old man responded.

“Was the cartographer reliable? If this map is wrong, we could get lost and die.”

“If you don’t want the map, you don’t have to buy it,” the shopkeep responded, crossing his arms. “The map has gotten me to Red Mount a good number of times, so I’d say it’s perfectly fine. To be honest, once you get close to Red Mount, you can’t miss it. It’s a massive mountain in the middle of nowhere. Just get to the top.”

“I think the map will be more than sufficient,” Malissa said, shooting Belmont a warning glare. “Could we also buy some water? I don’t see many rivers on this map, and I’d rather not get stuck without anything to drink.”

Arek’s face turned several shades lighter, and he swore under his breath.

“I’ll be right back,” Arek said urgently, reaching inside his travel bag and vanishing before anyone could say anything.

He appeared within the world of his portable garden and instantly let out a sigh of relief. His crops had grown significantly since he’d last checked on it. They were all lush and green, and none of them appeared dead.

Arek strode over to the water tank and knelt to get a better look at the meter. The arrow was just beginning to touch the red zone. The orc sighed and mentally slapped himself on the wrist.

He considered trying to use his magic to create water, but discarded the thought. He’d run out of power before he even filled a tenth of the tank.

“No more forgetting to get water,” Arek said aloud. “I am going to be a grumpy orc if all my plants die.”

He reached for the medallion to return to the real world, but a flash of green caught his attention. Arek turned towards it, his eyes widening in shock. He made his way through the rows of crops, making sure not to step on anything, and arrived at the small row he’d designated for the cuttings that Farmer Lewis had given them.

What had been plain sticks just a few weeks ago had transformed into miniature trees. They weren’t as dense as they should have been, and many of the leaves looked on the small side, but they were trees nonetheless.

Unfortunately, not all of the cuttings had made it. Only four had branched out with leaves, while the rest had shriveled and grown thin. The orc nudged one of the shriveled sticks. It felt dry.

“When do I get the fruit?” Arek asked the living trees.

Predictably, they didn’t respond. The orc grunted and let a slow grin spread across his face. He hadn’t put in a lot of work, but he still felt a little proud of the four measly little sticks that had leafed out.

He reactivated the medallion and popped back beside the rest of the Happy Sunflowers.

“Forgot to check on your plants?” Malissa guessed.

“Yep,” Arek said. “Nothing to worry about, luckily. I just barely had enough water to keep them alive. I’m going to need more.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

The shopkeep, who was in the middle of climbing back onto the second floor, paused and glanced back at Arek, cocking an eyebrow.

“Two barrels, please,” Arek said, pulling two gold out and placing the money on the counter.

The old man flashed him a toothy grin and nodded, then disappeared back into the upper floor.

“The second floor doesn’t seem like a great place to store water barrels,” Ming said. “How do you think he’s going to get them down?”

“I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” Belmont said. “It’s not like he’d just throw them down. Maybe he’s got a pulley system.”

They didn’t have to wait long to get the answer to their question. The ceiling creaked loudly and the shopkeep grunted. He leapt down from the hole in the roof in a blur, landing with a heavy thud on the ground.

Arek’s eyes widened. The man had three large barrels. He had one on each shoulder, and the third was balanced on his head.

“Are those empty?” Malissa asked.

“What do you take me for?” the old man asked, frowning. He set the barrels on the ground and gestured for Arek to pick them up. “The third one is free. A thank you for being such kind young kids.”

Arek strode over and picked one up. It was definitely full.

“How did you jump with all this weight?” Arek asked, impressed. “I think I’d have had trouble doing that myself.”

“You aren’t the only adventurers in this building, kids,” the old man said, laughing at the looks on their faces. “In fact, most people in the Red Mount area have been adventurers at some point. Not everyone is a ranked team, mind you. But it just happens to run in the blood.”

“Were you ranked?” Ming asked, her eyes widening.

“D rank,” the man said proudly. “Had some fun, but I got too old for it. Now, was there anything else you wanted?”

“That’s it,” Arek said. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

He set one of the barrels down, pulled his amulet out, and vanished. He repeated the process two more times.

“All watered,” Arek said happily, setting the last of the now empty barrels down on the ground.

“Thanks for your help,” Malissa said, smiling at the shopkeep. “We’ve got quite a ways to go to Red Mount, and we’re on a bit of a schedule.”

“Of course,” the old man said. “Don’t let me keep you. Enjoy yourselves!”

They left the shop. Belmont studied the map as they walked, his face pensive. The sun wasn’t too low in the sky yet, so there was no point staying in the small town any longer. Now armed with supplies, the Happy Sunflowers set off once again.

While they walked, Arek reached into his bag and pulled out the wooden box he’d won at the auction. He popped it open, revealing a small slip of folded paper. Arek read through it, a pensive expression on his face.

“That’s Uri’s recipe, right?” Ming asked. “Are you going to cook it?”

“No,” Arek replied, shaking his head and closing the box, “I don’t think I am. I’m going to find someone worth giving it to and let them have it instead. I’ve already got my own recipe for this. I want a lot of people to enjoy eating this.”

He ignored their confused glances and returned the box to his bag. They continued walking in silence.

“Are you going to tell us about your old group?” Ming asked a few minutes later.

“It’s probably for the best that I do,” Arek replied.

To his surprise, the orc found that he wasn’t as reluctant to share as he’d expected. With every passing day, his past seemed to have less of a hold on him. It was becoming more of an old wound rather than a seeping gash.

“I’ll begin at the start, I suppose,” Arek said, cracking his neck and taking a sip of water from a flask to wet his throat. “I met Vell when I was no older than Ming…”

* * *

The young orc’s breath came out as small white puffs in the night air. He adjusted his grip on the jagged sword in his hands and bared his teeth. The desire to let loose a war cry surged through him, but the gaze of the Leader was upon him.

The Leader let out a series of low grunts before nodding in the direction of the small campfire burning in the clearing below them. The grunts meant the same thing they always did—kill quickly, show no mercy, and honor goes to the victor.

A large part of the young orc yearned to spit on the Leader’s face and take leadership of the small raiding party. The Leader was old; his green skin was wrinkled and yellowing. His eyes had lost some of the luster that they’d once had. It was time for new leadership.

One glance at the Leader’s cold eyes put an end—or at least a pause—to the young orc’s thoughts. He gave a jerky nod of agreement. The Leader bared his fangs in understanding.

The raiding party started to creep towards the camp. It was small, with only four tents and a campfire that wouldn’t have seated more than a few people. The humans had left a single sentry to keep watch, but the fool had fallen asleep at the edge of camp.

If the Leader had bothered to bring more orcs, there would have been no need for this nighttime secrecy. They could have charged the camp like true warriors instead of sneaking through the night shadows like a filthy human. Of course, the young orc didn’t voice such thoughts. Old the Leader might have been, but deaf he was not.

They grew closer to the camp. The smell of ash and burnt meat from the humans’ last meal filled the young orc’s nostrils. He repressed a grimace at the thought of putting food over the fire. It completely ruined the flavor of the blood.

The Leader took the head of the small, ten-orc raiding party. It was a great honor to be at the front of the raid. The young orc hoped the Leader didn’t die. It would be harder to take control of the party if he couldn’t challenge the Leader honorably.

As they reached the tent line, the stray thoughts left his mind. His hair stood on end as the battle grew imminent. The battle rage started to course through his veins, but still he waited. The young orc turned to the Leader, waiting for the signal.

Then the sentry shifted. The orcs snapped to look at the sentry as he rose. A straw hat pulled over his head hid the man’s face from view, but he was turned right towards them. With a single sharp movement, the human reached up and removed his hat.

There was no hair. There was no skin. There wasn’t even a face. There was just a smooth, expressionless wooden oval. It took another shuddering step towards them. The young orc realized it wasn’t just the sentry’s face—the entire thing was wooden.

The Leader let out a war cry and hoisted his axe into the air before charging towards the wooden sentry. The ruse was up, and the young orc was happier for it. He let out his own cry and bounded behind the Leader, eager to feel the blood of his enemies on his sword after they dealt with the strange wooden construct.

The construct caught the Leader’s strike on its arm. It slid backwards through the dirt as the sword buried itself deep into the wood. The young orc stepped past the Leader and thrust his sword into their opponent’s stomach.

His strike only bit in a few inches before grinding to a halt. The construct moved forward with blinding speed, grabbing the Leader by the neck. The Leader was nearly two heads taller than the sentry.

It didn’t matter. The wooden construct hoisted the struggling orc into the air, not budging an inch. Then it slammed the Leader into the young orc like a fleshy club, sending him tumbling to the ground and tearing the sword from his grip. The young orc snarled and rolled over, preparing to lunge upwards and grab his sword once more.

Hot blood splashed across his face. The young orc froze. Did wood bleed? He wiped his eyes clean. They widened.

The Leader hung lifelessly in the air, held aloft by one of the wooden creature’s hands. The other hand protruded from the Leader’s back, the orc’s heart clutched within it. A flower of blood had bloomed from the Leader’s back, coloring the young orc and the ground beside him a deep red.

The orc stared in disbelief. He’d known death in combat was the inevitable end for every orc. He’d seen orcs die before, but never like this. There was no competition. There was no fight. It was just an execution.

Unfortunately, time didn’t slow down and the battle didn’t stop. The wooden construct tossed the Leader’s corpse to the side. Another orc in the raiding party—the young orc couldn’t tell who—charged towards the sentry with a scream.

A fist erupted through the orc’s head, silencing him with a sickening squelch. The young orc scrambled backwards, his hands slipping and searching for purchase on the blood-soaked ground. His breath came in heavy gasps.

He turned over and staggered to his feet to see another orc crumple beneath the puppet’s bloody hands. Out of the corner of his eye, the young orc spotted a large, armored man step out from within a tent.

There were no signs of sleep on his face. This had been an ambush, all right—but the victim was the orc raiding party, not the humans. They’d been ready for the attack. Two more men emerged from the tent beside the first one.

“You were right, Vell,” the armored man said. “Well done.”

The second-largest man inclined his head, apparently uninterested in the slaughter that was unfolding before him.

“I usually am,” Vell said. “Make sure you don’t kill one of them. I’ve got research to do.”

“They’re orcs, Vell,” the third man said. His face was covered by a heavy hood that concealed his features, but his voice was raspy and wizened. “What could a mage possibly have to learn from them?”

“This is why I am the mage, and you are not,” Vell replied. He turned back to the field, watching impassively as the construct bounded across the soaked dirt and thrust its arm into the back of an orc. Then his gaze flicked to the side, landing on the young orc. “Keep that one.”

The man in the hood vanished. The young orc turned and ran, fleeing the campsite of blood and slaughter. If he could reach the main army, there was a chance—

A boot slammed into his back. The young orc tumbled forward with a snarling cry, twisting as he fell to land on his back. He pushed against the ground and thrust his legs upwards into the hooded man’s stomach.

The human let out a grunt of pain and staggered back. The young orc leapt to his feet and dashed away again. The thoughts of honorable combat had long since left his mind. There was no honorable combat with that… creature.

A force slammed into the young orc and sent him tumbling back to the ground. Something popped in his foot and he let out a cry of pain. Spears of white-hot pain tore up from his ankle.

“Why’d he have to choose the feisty one?” the rough-voiced man snarled, grabbing the young orc by the scruff of his neck and raising him into the air.

For an instant, the orc caught a glimpse of two sky-blue eyes within the man’s hood. Then something slammed into his head, and the world went dark.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When the orc awoke once more, he found himself pressed against something flat. Hard metal restraints had been wrapped around just about every part of his torso, rendering him completely immobile. There was even a band over his forehead to keep him from turning.

The young orc snarled and struggled with all his might. He ignored the metal biting into his flesh and bared his fangs in fury, but to no avail. He wasn’t sure how long he struggled, but it must have been at least an hour.

As the energy started to leave his body, the young orc slowly came to realize that the smell of blood and fire was still low in the air. He couldn’t see anything but the dark sky above him, though hints of pale light had started to creep into the horizon.

“Finally all tired out?” the man that the orc recognized as Vell asked.

The orc snarled, slamming against his restraints. Of course, nothing happened. Vell let out a chuckle and stepped into view above the orc.

“That orc battle rage is nothing to joke about,” Vell said. “I wonder… can you understand me?”

The young orc glared up at him. “Tribes rip you up.” His words came out muddy and garbled, both from the bruise forming on his head and his lack of familiarity with the common tongue.

“Ah! You speak the human language! Fascinating. Let’s have a look at your information.”

He pulled out a thin bronze disc with a glass plane in the center and held it to his eye. Vell pressed a button at the side, projecting information onto the table.

Orc

Male Orc, Age 8

Magical affinity: None

Magical power: 1st Percentile

Magical energy: 1st Percentile

Physical power: 23rd Percentile

Karma: -12: Monster

Guild: None

The orc howled, thrashing against his restraints again. When that didn’t work, he spat up at Vell’s face. The mage flinched backwards and grimaced, wiping the spittle away and ignoring the orc’s smug grin. He waved his hand to dismiss the information.

“Don’t you worry—we’ll have that rage taken care of soon enough,” Vell said. “And maybe we’ll make you a bit more polite while we’re at it.”

The restraints shuddered once more as the young orc tensed his muscles and fought against them.

Vell watched him with an impassive expression. “Tired yet?”

The orc’s response was to spit at him again. It fell short. Vell cocked an eyebrow and the orc snarled at him, desperately drawing on the dwindling reserves of his strength. However, no matter what he tried, the restraints held firm.

“Looks like it,” Vell said, rubbing his hands together. He reached into his belt and pulled out a small metal implement. It was thin, with a tiny, pointed tip and a long neck. Vell tapped it on the orc’s chest. “If you could stop moving, that would make my job a lot easier. This is important research, you know.”

The young orc wanted nothing more than to rip the smug man’s throat out with his teeth. Vell observed him for a few moments, then nodded. The strange metal implement lit up with a pale gray light.

Vell lowered it out of sight. Then the orc felt something press against a claw on his left hand. White-hot pain erupted as every muscle in the orc’s body tensed up. He let out a scream of pain.

The young orc wasn’t sure how long Vell worked on him. His world was consumed by what felt like hell itself, rising up beneath his skin and boiling his blood. The orc’s voice went hoarse from screaming, but Vell’s work never slowed.

When sanity started to creep back into his mind, he could tell that something was profoundly wrong. Fuzz had filled his mind, making it difficult to form a thought. Strangely, he was calm. There was no more anger or fury. There was just acceptance.

He blinked, groaning. Vell’s face appeared in the sky again.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Vell said. “Good. You’ve got to be conscious for this last part. After all, we’re deciding your name.”

The orc tried to say something, but all that came out was a garbled grunt.

“No speaking yet,” Vell said. “The runes are not complete. They must be whole to function properly. Luckily, I have decided on a name. You shall be named in the old tongue. From this day forth, your name is Vaugh-Arek.”

There was no pain this time. Instead, a wave of freezing air erupted from Vaugh-Arek’s claws, traveling down his arms and spreading through every inch of his body. He drew in a ragged, choking gasp.

“Can you understand me?” Vell asked.

“I… I can,” Vaugh-Arek said, blinking.

The human tongue, which he’d only known a few words of before, now came as naturally to him as breathing. More surprising was that he felt no disgust in speaking it.

“Brilliant!” Vell exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “In that case, I should tell you the meaning of your name. Vaugh means warrior or killer, while Arek means passionate.”

“Warrior Passionate?” Vaugh-Arek asked, still trying to shake the fog from his mind.

The man speaking to him seemed quite reasonable. All memories of the raid he’d participated in the previous night seemed tarnished and twisted. Why had they attacked the humans, anyways? They’d just been passing through the fields. The party hadn’t done anything to deserve being killed.

“In the literal sense,” Vell said, nodding. “The old runes put the noun before the verb. In modern common, it would be Passionate Warrior.”

“I see,” Vaugh-Arek said slowly. “It does feel fitting. But… what have you done to me? I am not even sure if I’m the same orc I was last night. I feel empty. Hollow.”

“I have simply freed you from the grips of the orc battle rage with rune magic”—Vell paused—“and then some. But your personality and thoughts are your own. You are the same orc from last night—I have simply calmed you.”

“Why? You killed my tribe without a second thought.” There was anger and bitterness behind his words. Evidently, Vell hadn’t taken away all of his natural emotions. Vaugh-Arek found this somewhat reassuring, even as the deaths of his friends lingered in his memory.

“They were trying to kill us,” Vell replied, shrugging. “It was self-defense. You were spared because I sought to practice my skills.”

Vaugh-Arek instinctively knew that Vell was right. The humans had been defending themselves. Somehow, the death of his friends was already starting to fade within his mind.

Vell seemingly spotted the pained expression on the orc’s face. “You might find that you’re unable to properly mourn your companions. I apologize. You likely feel anger due to their deaths, and my runes have suppressed that. As you age, the power of the runes will acclimate to your mind, and your emotions will become your own again.”

“I see. You speak of getting older. Does this mean you don’t plan to kill me?”

“Why would I do something like that?” Vell asked, affronted. “I spent hours creating y—the runes on you. Killing you would waste all my hard work.”

Vaugh-Arek tried to sit up, but the restraints were still on him. “Then what will you be doing with me?”

Vell frowned. He scratched his chin. “I don’t suppose you’d want to go back to your tribe like this.”

Vaugh-Arek considered his words for a few moments. To his surprise, he realized that Vell was right. He didn’t want to go back. Not yet, at least. The thought of rushing into another pointless honorable battle just to die… It was no longer something he desired.

“Would you like to travel with us?” Vell asked. “We’re what humans call adventurers. We clear out dungeons and protect villages from monster swarms. We could use a fourth member.”

A flicker of phantom pain shot through Vaugh-Arek’s claws, bringing up the recent memory of Vell’s concentrated face as he carved the runes into the orc’s claws.

“It’s just more fighting,” Vaugh-Arek said, frowning.

“It’s fighting for a purpose. To make the lives of others better,” Vell said, raising his hands. “The greatest calling any man can take. Adventurers protect the normal people of the world from, well, monsters. We let everyone live in peace at the cost of our own.”

Vaugh-Arek mulled over the man’s words. Then his head moved in the smallest nod that the restraints would allow him to make. “Very well. I will join you.”

“Brilliant!” Vell exclaimed.

A series of pops rang out as the restraints holding Arek down popped open. The orc slowly sat up. His head still spun slightly with every motion, but it improved with every second that went by.

“Remain seated—I will go get the rest of the party to properly introduce them,” Vell said, smiling at Vaugh-Arek before heading out the door.

Now that he could sit, the orc took advantage of his time alone to look around. He’d been set up on a thick plank of wood. The restraints were pieces of metal covered with runes. He could see the tents around him, and the ground was still muddy. Vaugh-Arek sniffed slightly. The metallic smell of iron and feces filled the air.

It couldn’t have been long since the battle if the ground was still wet with blood. He sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the board. Vaugh-Arek stood up slowly, half-expecting his legs to give out from under him.

The orc stumbled, but he managed to catch himself on the board. He glanced down at his hand. His claws were covered with what must have been thousands of drawings that were likely the runes Vell had spoken of.

He gradually moved his weight onto his feet. This time, the ground was steady beneath him. Vaugh-Arek took a deep breath and let it out.

The orc didn’t get any more time to himself. Vell returned with his two team members in tow. The large man gave Vaugh-Arek a suspicious frown, while the man that had caught Vaugh-Arek still wore the hood low over his face. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

“What have you done, Vell?” the big man asked.

“This is Vaugh-Arek,” Vell said proudly. “I have removed his orc battle rage and numbed his emotions until he can adjust to his new life.”

“His new life being…?” the hooded man queried.

“Our new party member,” Vell said. “He’s a perfect fit. He’s already a powerful fighter, and I’ve given him magic through the runes on his claws. He can become the perfect killing machine. Think about it! The might of a warrior and the powers of a mage. Isn’t it fantastic?”

“I’m right here, you know,” Vaugh-Arek said.

“Forgive me,” Vell said. “I get carried away sometimes. I am very passionate about my research. The big man beside me is Holt, and the cloaked one goes by Flint.”

“It’s nice to meet you on better terms,” Vaugh-Arek said, searching for the proper words. “I think Vell has helped me greatly, even if I didn’t appreciate it when he was working.”

Holt grunted, then gave Vaugh-Arek a small nod. “Welcome to the team,” he finally said. “If you haven’t noticed, Vell is our leader. We’ve been looking for a fourth person for a while, so it’s good to have you.”

“You’ll have to make him something that lets him pass normally in cities,” Flint said, crossing his arms. “If you don’t, he’ll get killed by another adventuring team before we can stop them.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Vell said, waving his hand with a careless grin. “I can do that in a few hours.”

“Good,” Flint said. “I hope there’s no hard feelings from last night, Vaugh-Arek. Is there anything you’d like us to do with the bodies of your comrades?”

“They died in combat,” Vaugh-Arek said, shaking his head. “That’s what they would have wanted. Leave them for the scavengers or my tribe. They’ll be coming through here within a few days.”

“Very well,” Flint said. “Welcome to the team, Vaugh-Arek.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“That’s terrible,” Malissa said, shaking her head in disbelief. “It sounds like Vell tortured you!”

“Vell never cared about anything other than his research,” Arek replied. “It just took us all some time to realize that. He did whatever he could to achieve it, and the feelings of others were of no value to him. However, I suppose I must thank him. No matter his methods, I do appreciate what he did for me. I just don’t appreciate what I became after it.”

“What do you mean?” Ming asked.

“At a later date,” Arek said, shaking his head. “It is a dark topic, and I do not wish to speak of it right now. The time I spent with Vell’s team started off wonderful, but it rapidly descended into darkness. I do not feel like sullying today any further.”

“That’s fine,” Malissa quickly said. “You’ve said a lot already. It was already very kind of you to share this much.”

Ming nodded in agreement, and they lapsed into silence. The group had been walking for several hours now, and the sun was starting to set in the sky. Belmont hadn’t said a word since Arek had started speaking. The armored healer chewed his lip as they walked, clearly lost in thought.

The map the shopkeeper had given them wasn’t particularly accurate, but they soon learned why it didn’t need to be.

Far in the distance, at the edge of the horizon, an enormous mountain reached up through the clouds. It was so big that it looked more like a wall that stretched as far as the eye could see.

“That’s huge,” Ming breathed in awe. “Red Mount is on top of that?”

“That’s what the map says,” Belmont said, finally breaking his silence. “And we should probably set up camp.”

“Why? I can already see the mountain!”

“It’s massive, Ming,” Malissa said. “It’s going to take us easily a week just to get up to the base of the mountain, much less find a way up it.”

“Does that mean we have to eat stale jerky and cheese the whole way over?” Ming asked, groaning.

“Don’t worry,” Arek said, grinning at her tantrum. “I’ll see if I can find some ingredients to make something with in the coming days. I think the map said there was a forest at the base of the mountain, so I’m sure we can find something there.”

“Okay!” Ming said, her mood completely shifting. “Should we set up camp now?”

Belmont looked out at the sprawling hills surrounding them. Then he shrugged. “We might as well. It’s not like this hill is going to be any different from the next one, and the sun is already getting low. It would be best to be fully set up before we have to use firelight to see.”

They stopped their trek and started to set up camp on the top of the rather large hill. It was flat enough that setting the tents up wasn’t too much of a problem. Arek’s was significantly more wrinkly than everyone else’s, as he’d had it stuffed into his bag instead of an extradimensional space.

Once they’d all set their tents up, Belmont pulled a bundle of kindling from his extradimensional bag and set it up on the ground. They tore up the grass surrounding it and Arek summoned a tiny flame upon it. The fire spread through the wood as the campfire crackled to life.

The shopkeeper had included some jerky that, while not as good as Arek’s, was still decent. It was dry, but it still had some flavor. Some dried pepper had been rubbed on the outside of the meat, which helped greatly in breaking up the monotonous meal. Unfortunately, the cheese was significantly less palatable.

“This tastes like an armpit,” Ming said, gagging. “Arek, can’t you make some cheese?”

“I don’t know a recipe for cheese. And no, I still don’t have any good ingredients. Unless you’d like some fresh herbs to season your meal with?”

“I’m not that desperate yet,” Ming said with a dramatic sigh.

Belmont and Malissa were uncharacteristically silent. Both of them seemed to be lost in their own worlds. The group finished their meal silently and headed to bed a short while later, with Arek taking the first watch.

Several hours later, Arek handed off the watch to Belmont, who looked as pensive as he had during dinner. The man was clearly thinking something over, but he shook his head when Arek sent him an inquisitive glance. The orc didn’t press and headed to his tent, lying down in his bedroll and falling asleep.

Arek awoke before the sun had risen. He rose from his sleep, quickly stuffing the thin bedroll into his bag before stepping outside.

He was unsurprised to find Malissa already awake and doing push-ups. Arek joined her without a word. They exercised until the sun had risen, alternating between push-ups, jogging around the camp, and crunches.

By the time they finished, both of them were breathing heavily. Malissa looked to be a bit worse for the wear, but it wasn’t by as much as it once had been. She wiped the sweat from her brow and pulled out her water flask. She splashed some of it over her face.

“How did you decide you wanted to become a chef?” she asked, breaking the still morning.

Arek didn’t respond immediately. He considered her question for several moments before he opened his mouth. “It wasn’t a single moment. I first considered it when my adventuring group was traveling through a small hamlet. An old man whose name I never learned was cooking food for the people that were passing through.”

“And it was so good that it made you want to become a chef?” Malissa guessed.

“Not at all,” Arek replied. “It was average. Maybe even below average.”

Malissa gave Arek a confused frown. “So why did it make you want to become a chef?”

“He served the food for free, with no desire for payment or anything in return,” Arek said, a small smile on his face. “He drew great joy in nothing but giving his labor to others. It wasn’t the food that resonated with me. It was him. I was in a dark place at the time, and that was the first taste of kindness I’d felt in years.”

“If it was just the kindness, why become a chef? There are a lot of ways to help people. Besides, you don’t cook for free.” Malissa sat down on the ground and Arek joined her.

“That was just the first part,” Arek said. “It wasn’t until a year later that I met a roaming chef. I’d already left my adventuring party by then, and I was roaming the other end of the Bludon Empire as a warrior for hire. The chef invited me to his camp and made me a meal.”

Arek trailed off, his eyes glazing over as his mind drifted to the past.

“And what a meal it was,” the orc said with a dreamy sigh. “That was the first time I tasted heaven. It made me happy. I couldn’t describe the feeling, since I haven’t had it since then, but it was the greatest one in the world.”

“And then you became a chef? Did you apprentice with him?”

“Yes and no,” Arek replied, giving her a half-shrug. “I decided I wanted to learn how to cook. I asked him to teach me a few recipes, which he agreed to. He gave me a book of recipes and told me to experiment. I spent the next ten years roaming the edges of the Empire, learning everything I could. I never truly decided to become a chef. I just realized it had happened once it was already over.”

“Oh,” Malissa said, looking at the ground with a disappointed frown. “I was hoping there was some sort of epiphany.”

“That would make it easier, wouldn’t it? But I’m afraid there wasn’t for me. I’m sure it happens to some people, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“So how do you know if you’re on the right path?” Malissa asked, her voice low and pained. “Life shouldn’t feel like I’m a leaf in the river! I want to have the passion you have for cooking, or the love that Ming has for food. Hells, I’d even take Belmont’s paranoia over… this. I don’t know what I am, Arek. I wake up every morning to train and become a better adventurer, but I don’t even know if I want to be an adventurer!”

“You’re asking the orc that was literally made, not born,” Arek said, a smile flickering across his mouth. “I never had a name in my orc tribe. Vaugh-Arek was given to me by Vell, along with the basis of my personality. I didn’t originally choose this life.”

“Oh. I didn’t—”

“But,” Arek continued, “I chose what came after that. It just took me a few years to get around to it. There’s no way to know if you’re on the right path, Malissa. Not as far as I know, anyways. However, whatever you do should bring you joy, in one way or another. If you awake in the morning with no desire to see the rest of the day, then you have already died.”

Malissa let out a heavy sigh. She shook her head and raised her shoulders. “What if you’re on the wrong path, though?”

Arek looked at her, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“No. I don’t think so,” Malissa said, shaking her head. “But I’m not sure.”

“You won’t be sure until long after you needed to be,” Arek said. “Just do your best.”

They sat silently for several minutes, watching the sun as it slowly rose above the horizon.

Belmont was the first to emerge from his tent. He spotted Malissa and Arek and walked over to sit beside them. The man seemed to mull something over for a few minutes before he finally looked up at Arek.

“I know who you are,” Belmont said.

Arek’s blood ran cold. It wasn’t that he was surprised. It had been only a matter of time until someone figured it out, and telling them about Vell had been a dead giveaway, especially for someone as paranoid as Belmont.

“What do you mean?” Malissa asked. “He already told us that his name was originally Vaugh-Arek.”

“Not that name,” Belmont said. Arek noticed that his sword wasn’t at his side like it normally was. “Arek’s adventuring name. I’d been trying to figure it out for a while. Vell’s name was the last piece I needed.”

“You know Vell?” Malissa asked, confused. “How?”

“I know of him,” Belmont corrected. “It’s the name of a rather famous B-ranking adventurer. His most popular name is the King of Dolls. He’s one of the kingdom’s enforcers, and a ruthless one at that.”

Malissa drew in a sharp breath. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry, Arek. I don’t know how I didn’t make the connection. I don’t know as much about other adventurers as Belmont does, but even I’ve heard the stories about him.” Her hands tightened into fists at her sides. “It must have been horrible traveling with him. I can see why you didn’t want to be an adventurer anymore. Hells, and I’ve been trying to get you to convince me to stay an adventurer…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Arek said, ignoring the dense pit forming in his stomach. “I could have left long before I did. Vell never forced me to stay with the group.”

“You were still a victim,” Malissa said, shaking her head.

“No,” Belmont said, “he wasn’t.”

“Belmont!” Malissa snapped. “How could you?”

“He’s right,” Arek said quietly.

Malissa looked from Arek to Belmont. Her eyes narrowed and she pounded her hand against the dirt. “What’s going on? I feel like the two of you are dancing around me. Out with it, already!”

“Arek wasn’t some nameless member of Vell’s party,” Belmont said. “Think about it. He had trouble dealing with temptation and flew into a blood rage during fights. Despite that, he could still control his target perfectly. Does that not ring a bell?”

Malissa’s brow furrowed. Then the blood drained from her face. Arek winced. He could pinpoint the exact moment when understanding flickered across her features.

“That’s not possible,” Malissa said, not believing her own words. “Arek is an orc.”

“There are ways to change your appearance,” Belmont replied. “Arek, please correct me if I’m wrong. I believe you were Warchief, the C-rank adventurer who singlehandedly culled the uprising against the adventurer’s guild around eleven years ago.”

Arek drew a deep breath. In a way, it almost felt good to have it out in the air again. The secrets had been wearing down on his soul for so long now that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be unburdened by lies. He’d revealed himself in the court case against the Starpiercers, of course, but that hadn’t felt quite the same.

“I am,” Arek said. “I apologize for deceiving you.”

He took the Truesight Artifact out of his bag and held it up, pressing a button on the side and projecting his information into the air.

Vaugh-Arek (Warchief)

Male Orc, Age 29

Magical affinity: Runes

Magical power: 89th Percentile

Magical energy: 55th Percentile

Physical power: 83rd Percentile

Karma: -3,720: C-Rank Adventurer

Guild: None

“But… Warchief was a murderer!” Malissa exclaimed in disbelief as Arek put the artifact away. “He slaughtered entire camps, sparing nobody! Warchief was a soulless killing machine, not a food-loving orc!”

Arek reached inside his bag. His hand closed around the red patch. It was waiting for him, just as it had been ever since Vell had returned it to him. The orc rose to his feet and pressed it to his skin. His body shimmered and started to morph.

Unlike when he used Magus’ mask, Arek’s body physically changed. He grew leaner and his fangs receded, pulling back into his lips. Green was replaced by ash gray, and a myriad of crisscrossing scars carved themselves across his body. Blood-red war paint formed intricate designs of screaming demons and beasts all across his face and chest.

“I’m afraid I am both,” Arek said, his words heavy. Even his voice had shifted. The orc’s words had become gruff and scratchy, without a hint of the jovial sarcasm that permeated Arek’s normal tone.

Belmont watched him silently, his analytical eyes absorbing Arek’s reaction carefully.

“I don’t understand…” Malissa muttered.

“You don’t have to,” Belmont replied.

Arek winced, but he’d seen that coming. Crimes written in blood could not be washed away by time. He knew that better than anyone. It was somewhat ironic that Arek had been chased from towns for years because he was an orc, and now that he’d retaken his human form, all he desired was to return to what he’d once been.

“I recognize that weapon your magic made,” Belmont said. “You killed hundreds of innocents with it. You wanted to be discovered, didn’t you?”

“I suppose I did, to some degree,” Arek agreed. “I knew our adventure would end the moment the truth came out, but I enjoyed it too much to reveal it myself.”

“But he was being used by Vell, right?” Malissa asked desperately. “Right, Arek?”

“In the beginning, yes,” Arek replied, “but not after that. He may have crafted me, but I held the blade. I chose to work with him. My hands are thoroughly stained red with the blood of better people.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Belmont said, looking Arek in the eyes.

Arek blinked. “What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Belmont said again. “The past is a part of who we are, but it doesn’t make the present or the future. It’s history, and nothing more. You’ll have to atone for your actions, make no mistake. But the Arek I have come to know is no bloodthirsty killer. We aren’t kicking you out of the party.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The words were so uncharacteristic for Belmont that, for a moment, Arek thought the man might have been replaced by some sort of mimic or impostor.

“We’ve traveled together for a good while now,” Belmont continued. “I was not pleased to have you join the team at first, but you have proven both your personality and your abilities. You clearly regret the mistakes you made, and I am confident that you will work to rectify them if you haven’t already done so. However, if you think we will banish you from the group because of who you once were, you are mistaken. You are one of us. Your name is not Warchief. It is Arek.”

Arek found himself unable to find words to respond. He stood, unmoving, as his brain tried and failed to process the healer’s words. Malissa rose to her feet as well. The shock faded from her face as confidence replaced it and she crossed her arms.

“Belmont is right,” Malissa said. “Forgive me for my reaction. I was taken completely by surprise—and that should only serve to show that you are nothing like the man you once were. You’re part of the Happy Sunflowers, Arek. It doesn’t matter what or who you used to be.”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” Arek said gruffly, turning away from them. “You don’t know what I’ve done. Who I’ve killed. What I’ve seen and done nothing about.”

“And we don’t care,” Malissa said, putting a hand on Arek’s arm. “Belmont, surprisingly, said it right. We know you’ll make good on your past mistakes, and we’ll be there to help you do it. You’ve done nothing but help us and other people since we’ve known you. You aren’t evil.”

“I—but…”

“This conversation is over,” Belmont said, turning away from them. “It is a waste of time to continue. In fact, you can’t leave, even if you wanted to.”

“My contract is only with Ming,” Arek pointed out, his voice unsteady. He took advantage of his height to look into the sky and conceal his watering eyes.

“The gold part is, but you’ve got a share of the party’s loot as well,” Belmont said, looking over his shoulder and giving the disguised orc a small grin. “Adventurers with a share in a party cannot leave until their objective is complete or the rest of the group votes them out. It’s in the adventurer’s guild handbook.”

“Wha—you can’t possibly use that against me!” Arek exclaimed. “Nobody reads that!”

“I did,” Belmont said, smirking. “Besides, we’ve got yet another guild out for our blood. You’re stuck with us, so don’t think about running off and hiding.”

The healer turned away and strode back into his tent, closing the flap behind him.

Arek blinked quickly and drew a shaky breath. “I—I think I need to go for a run. I’ll be back.” He didn’t wait for Malissa’s response before setting off with long, loping strides that left no way for her to keep up with him if she’d followed.

* * *

Malissa watched him for a few moments before averting her eyes to give the orc the privacy he was clearly seeking. She headed back to the tents and walked over to Ming’s, pushing the flap open and clearing her throat.

The mage glanced up from the book that Magus had given her and gave Malissa a small wave. “Hi, Malissa. Is it time for breakfast?”

“No, not quite,” Malissa said slowly. “Ah… did you hear our conversation?”

“Nope. I was reading,” Ming said, proudly lifting the book and showing it to Malissa. It was upside down.

“I see,” Malissa said, pursing her lips and drumming her fingers on her thigh. Then she sighed. “Ming, Arek just told Belmont and I his old adventuring name. He used to be known as Warchief.”

“Oh, that,” Ming said, waving her hand dismissively. “I already knew that. Magus told me while I was eating soup before you guys finished your promotion exams. He figured it out ages ago. I just didn’t think it was very important.”

Malissa’s mouth worked open and closed like a beached fish. Then her eye twitched slightly. “You… already knew? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I forgot,” Ming said, shrugging. “It didn’t really matter. Arek is Arek. He’s nice and cooks great food for us. What else matters?”

“Nothing, I suppose,” Malissa said, shaking her head as a wry grin crossed her lips. “You know, I don’t why I was ever worried about this. I’ve been pretty foolish today.”

“It happens. To other people. I’d say I’m personally pretty perfect. Say, while you’re here, is Arek going to make breakfast?”

“Not yet,” Malissa said, rolling her eyes. “Arek needed some time to himself. He probably isn’t going to be in the mood to make food today, so we’ll be eating the jerky.”

“Oh,” Ming said. She let out a heavy sigh, then nodded. “Okay.”

Malissa’s eyes narrowed.

Ming gave her an innocent look and cocked her head to the side. “What is it?”

“You little rat goblin—you’ve got some food in your bag, don’t you?”

“I certainly do not!” Ming exclaimed, putting a hand over her heart. “Why would you claim that? If I had food that wasn’t disgusting, slimy cheese or sad, dry jerky, I’d share it with my best friends!”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Ming agreed.

Malissa yanked the extradimensional bag off Ming’s belt, ignoring the yelp of protest that the mage let out. She shuffled around inside it and, with a victorious grin, pulled out a loaf of white bread.

“Hey! That’s my… uh, snack!” Ming protested weakly. “I need it so I don’t starve.”

“What else do you have?” Malissa asked, handing the food and the bag back to Ming with a laugh. “You know that bread would probably taste better if it was part of a dish. You don’t want stale bread, do you?”

Ming’s nose twitched. She glanced from the bread in her hand to Malissa, then reluctantly nodded.

“You’re right,” Ming admitted. “I have some mayonnaise. The spicy kind, with chili peppers. I also have some eggs. I’ve also got some packages of crackers, a few oranges, and some peapods.”

“Are you carrying around a whole kitchen? Where are you finding space to store all of that?” Malissa asked, her mouth agape. “And how have you kept the eggs and mayonnaise from spoiling?”

“With ice,” Ming said, rolling her eyes. “And it’s not that bad. My bag still has some room left in it for extra snacks.”

“Ming,” Malissa said, struggling to keep the smile from her face, “are you carrying anything other than food?”

“Of course I am,” Ming said with an affronted scoff. “I’ve also got my tent and my pie hat.”

“First aid kit? Healing potions? Money?”

“Gave it to Belmont, gave it to Belmont, used it all on food.”

“You know what? I’m not even surprised.” Malissa shook her head. “Look, let me use the eggs, mayonnaise, and bread. I’m going to make breakfast.”

“Arek already taught you a breakfast recipe?” Ming asked, her eyes widening as she jumped to her feet and tossed the book to her bedroll.

“Well, not really,” Malissa admitted. “But we talked about a lot of things these past few days. I’ve been feeling overwhelmed and out of place, and I think I know what I need to do to fix it.”

“Out of place? Why?” Ming asked, frowning. “You’re a great adventurer! Belmont would have a mental breakdown and I’d get arrested inside a restaurant if you weren’t around. You’re the best leader we could ask for.”

“Thank you,” Malissa said, a small smile flickering across her lips. Ming’s blunt honesty was simultaneously the greatest and worst trait of the young mage. “I can’t explain it, Ming. I know we’ve been doing better recently than we ever have before, but logic just isn’t a part of this.”

“Oh,” Ming said, scrunching her nose up. Then she reached into her extradimensional bag and pulled out a jar of orangish mayonnaise and a large cloth bundle that barely fit through the opening. She handed them to Malissa. “You’re not out of place with us, Malissa. You’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Malissa said, laughing as she took the food from Ming. “Thank you, though.”

Ming nodded sagely. They didn’t speak for a few moments. Then the mage cleared her throat. “So, when’s breakfast?”

“Whenever I finish what I’m making,” Malissa replied. “If you light the campfire for me, it’ll be faster.”

Ming was out of the tent before the other woman could finish, the bundle of staves tucked under her arm. Malissa shook her head and followed her party member out.

“Belmont?” Malissa called.

The man’s head poked out of the flaps of his tent. “What?”

“Do you have a frying pan?”

“Why would I have a frying pan?” Belmont asked. “Arek’s the chef.”

“You used to be the chef. That was only a few weeks ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you throw away something heavy or metal.”

“It’s been repurposed.”

“Well, un-repurpose it,” Malissa said. “I need it, and something tells me you’re just using it as part of a trap.”

“What? How did you know? Did you somehow see inside my tent?” Belmont exclaimed, his head disappearing back within his tent as he searched for a possible breach in his defenses. He emerged a second later, his brow furrowed. “There aren’t any holes in the tarp.”

“It was just a guess, Belmont. Look, just give me the pan. You’ll survive without your trap. What are you using it for? A weight to drop on someone’s head if they walk in uninvited?”

“There is a breach!” Belmont breathed. He swore and grabbed something above his head, striding outside and unwrapping a rope from the handle of a heavy cast-iron pan. “How did you figure it out? If my sanctum has been penetrated, I need to know.”

Malissa took it from him and massaged her forehead. Dealing with her own problems was issue enough. However, in some perverse manner, it was almost relaxing to deal with Belmont’s paranoia. It was reassuring.

“Belmont, nobody can see inside your tent. It was just kind of… obvious. You had the pan, and you make traps out of everything you can. It’s not much of a jump to assume you attempted to weaponize our pan.”

“I’m becoming predictable,” Belmont murmured. He raised his fist to pound it into his palm, but reconsidered it—he was still wearing his heavy armor. “I must rectify this.”

He disappeared back into his tent, muttering under his breath.

“Rectify it after you give me our oil as well,” Malissa called. “I know we had nearly a full bottle, so you better not have used it all lubricating the ground or something equally stupid.”

Belmont let out a tortured groan. “Stop yelling out all my traps! Someone might hear you.” His hand emerged from the tent holding a half-full bottle of oil. Malissa took it from him and he disappeared back inside.

“What happened to Belmont?” Ming asked, placing her staff back into the bundle of sticks. A small campfire crackled behind her.

“I think I might have accidentally figured out his traps,” Malissa said. “He’s not very happy about it.”

“You only just figured them out? He’s got five main ones. He puts something heavy over the door, slicks the ground in front of it, rigs a knife—”

Malissa quickly put her hand over Ming’s mouth, muffling her words. “Maybe don’t list them out. We’ve already got two people having mental breakdowns today. We don’t need to add Belmont to the list.”

“Oops,” Ming said after Malissa had released her. “That’s probably a good idea. We’ll wait until after you and Arek finish having breakdowns and then tell him. It’ll be funny.”

Malissa tilted her head, then suppressed a smirk. It wasn’t hard to picture what Belmont’s reaction would be to that, and she had to agree that it would have been slightly amusing.

“We’ll see,” Malissa said noncommittally. She set the pan down over the campfire and drummed her fingers on her thigh. Malissa was dimly aware of Ming heading back into her tent behind her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

After a few more minutes of thinking, Malissa nodded to herself. She reached into her extradimensional bag and pulled out an old set of metal utensils and a bowl. She hadn’t used them in a while, as Arek had always provided what they needed.

She moved the pan to the side and brushed the top of the rock off as best as she could. It didn’t look too dirty, so she set the loaf of bread on it. A dagger appeared in the woman’s hand and she cut the bread into eight slices and two end pieces, which she set aside.

Malissa took the pan from the fire and poured just enough oil onto it to coat the bottom surface. Then she took two slices of bread and placed them in the pan before replacing the entire thing on the fire.

The oil popped and sizzled against the bread. A flicker of worry crossed Malissa’s mind. She’d never cooked entirely on her own before. If she waited for Arek to get back, the orc would guarantee a successful meal.

Unless Ming had stashed more food away, this was the last of their good supplies. Her lips pursed and she forced the intrusive thoughts from her mind. Arek didn’t worry about his meals failing, so neither would she.

Malissa used her dagger to lift the bread slightly from the pan. The fire was hot, so it had already started to turn crisp and a light golden brown. She used her knife like a spatula, lifting the first piece of bread and setting it on the stone. She picked up the second using the same method, but fumbled while she was moving it.

She dropped the knife and her hand blurred through the air. She snatched the bread from the sky, tossed it onto the stone, and caught the hilt of the knife before her improvised spatula could hit the ground.

It was over before she could even think about what had happened. Malissa glanced from the bread on the stone to her hand, then turned to see if anyone else had noticed it. Unfortunately, the camp was empty.

Malissa sighed and added a dash more oil to the pan before adding two more slices of bread and setting it back over the fire. She repeated the process until all the remaining slices of bread had been cooked.

It wasn’t perfect by any means. Some of the slices were a little crispier than others, and there was one that was bordering on burnt, but they still smelled good.

Malissa removed the pan from the fire and set it on another stone while she retrieved the cloth package that contained the eggs. She used another dagger to carefully cut it open. It was densely packed, which was probably a good way to ensure the eggs survived the trip.

When it came to keeping food, Malissa was confident that Ming wouldn’t have taken any shortcuts. She wasn’t sure how the mage had planned to cook the raw eggs without the rest of the camp noticing, but she suspected it might have something to do with the miniature fires that had been constantly popping up near their campsites before Arek had met them.

Sure enough, the eggs were in perfect condition. The ice had been packed around several layers of soft towels, which in turn cradled the eggs. There were a dozen eggs in total. Malissa took one and sucked in a breath.

She lightly tapped it against the edge of the pan. Nothing happened. She tapped it a little harder and a miniscule crack appeared in the shell. Malissa grimaced and tapped it again. This time, the egg let out a loud crack. She raised it above the pan and pulled the eggshell apart.

The egg slipped into the pan and started to pop and crackle. Even though it wasn’t on the fire, it had retained a lot of the heat. Malissa grabbed the pan’s handle and set it back over the flame before picking up another egg.

She smacked it on the side of the pan more confidently than the previous time. The egg crunched and a small amount of the egg white fell into the fire, sending a puff of dark smoke up into Malissa’s face.

Luckily, the rest of the egg slipped into the pan. Gagging, Malissa waved the smoke out of her face. She picked out a few pieces of eggshell from the pan and sat back, watching it like a hawk.

It took surprisingly little time for the egg whites to start to harden. Malissa used her dagger to make sure the eggs didn’t merge. Then she pulled her sleeves back as far as she could.

“I probably should have worn my apron,” Malissa grumbled. “Damn spur-of-the-moment ideas.”

She stuck the dagger under the first egg and flipped it as quickly as she could. It was a long blade, but it wasn’t the best spatula. She managed to get about three-quarters of the egg to fold over.

The bottom of the egg was a tad crispier than she’d hoped for, but it wasn’t black. Malissa prodded and pried the last piece of egg out from underneath itself and into the proper position. Then she flipped the second egg. This one seemed eager to help and fell perfectly into place.

Malissa let out a relieved sigh. Then she cursed and grabbed Ming’s spicy mayonnaise, spinning the top of the jar off. With yet another knife, she dug some of it out of the jar and slathered it all over the toasted faces of the bread.

She grabbed the pan, practically throwing the eggs onto the toast before they could burn. She wiped her forehead, which had somehow become slick with sweat. Her heart was beating as fast as it did when they were in the middle of a fight inside a dungeon.

A sandwich rested before her. One piece of bread rested at an angle and some of the mayonnaise was leaking out, but it was still a sandwich. A proud grin stretched across Malissa’s face and she got back to work.

Several stressful minutes later, Malissa removed the pan from the fire and let out a relieved sigh. Eight sandwiches rested on the stone before her. The eggs had been fried to varying degrees of darkness, and some of the bread was crisper than it should have been. Despite that, the food didn’t look bad.

Malissa’s body ached a little from having to hunch over the campfire. She rose to her feet and stretched her hands into the air, groaning in relief as her back popped. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Arek heading back towards the camp. He had become an orc once again.

The orc’s nose twitched as he approached the campfire. His gaze moved from Malissa to the sandwiches, and a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. He picked up his bag, which still lay on the ground, and stuffed the red patch inside it.

“You made us breakfast?” he asked. His face was hard to read, but the hopeless tone from when he’d transformed into Warchief had faded. “I didn’t realize we had any food to work with.”

“Ming had some stashed away,” Malissa said, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you to come back. I wanted to try my hand at cooking on my own.”

“And how did you like it?” Arek asked, setting his pack aside and sitting down on the ground.

“It was harder than I expected,” Malissa said. “I thought eggs would have been easy to cook.”

Arek chuckled at that. “Easy to cook, hard to cook correctly. Thank you for making breakfast.” He paused for a moment. “And for everything else.”

“There’s nothing else to thank me for, Arek,” Malissa replied. “We better get Belmont and Ming before the food gets cold. You had good timing on getting back.”

“I smelled it. We’re surrounded by grass, so the aroma of fried eggs and bread is quite strong.”

“Huh. I don’t think I would have noticed much if I were far away,” Malissa said, standing up and making her way over to Ming’s tent. “I suppose that’s just your superior sense of orc smell.”

Before she could step inside, Ming’s head popped out. “I smell food. Give it to me.”

“That’s what it’s for,” Malissa said, rolling her eyes. “You get two pieces. No more.”

Ming made a beeline towards the campfire as Malissa approached Belmont’s tent. She cleared her throat. “Belmont? The food is ready.”

“Is it trapped?”

“Why would the food be trapped?” Malissa asked. “And if it were, why would I give it to you?”

Belmont let out a weary sigh. He emerged from his tent with Magus’ book tucked under one arm, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed.

“I am attempting to think of unorthodox traps,” Belmont explained. “If my current ones are so obvious that you can just guess them, then our numerous enemies can too. Therefore, I am seeking to challenge my mind by discovering new varieties of defenses. I meant no offence towards your cooking.”

“I see,” Malissa said as they walked back over to the campfire and sat down beside Arek and Ming. “How would trapped food even work? You poison some cookies and then leave them by your windowsill in hopes that whoever is attacking us gets the munchies midway through and stops for a snack?”

“Brilliant!” Belmont exclaimed, his face lighting up. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It would probably work on me,” Ming said, grabbing a sandwich and pushing the entire thing into her mouth in one bite. She gave Malissa a chipmunk grin.

Malissa rolled her eyes. The Happy Sunflowers all grabbed their food before Ming could start getting any ideas.

* * *

Arek took a large bite out of the sandwich. The egg was just bordering on crispy, with a yolk that was just barely runny. The mayonnaise had just enough heat to it to make his mouth water for more, while the bread was well toasted on the outside and velvety on the inside. He finished the sandwich off in one more bite before grabbing the second one and devouring it as well.

The bread on the second sandwich was slightly too toasted, but it still tasted delicious. Arek licked his lips and gave Malissa a wide grin. She finished chewing and glanced at Arek for approval.

“What do you think?” she asked nervously.

“You did very well,” Arek said, smiling. “Was this a recipe?”

“No,” Malissa said, shaking her head. “I just made it up.”

“Then you did even better. This was delicious. Thank you. It was hearty and warming. The eggs were rather well done, although you could have cooked them on a slightly lower heat by setting the pan higher over the fire. If we had butter, that would have been a better seasoning than oil. I quite enjoyed the mayonnaise in conjunction with the eggs—it’s not something I’ve tried before, but I believe I’ll keep the combination in mind from now on.”

“Thank you,” Malissa said with a proud smile.

“You should write this down. It’s your first recipe, so it’s important. In addition, include what you can improve on it. The next time you make this, it will be even better!”

“Food is good,” Ming said, sending a pointed glance at Belmont, who still hadn’t finished his second sandwich.

“Eyes off my food, you goblin,” Belmont snapped. “Just because I don’t inhale my meals like the rest of you doesn’t mean I’m sharing them.”

“What else do you think I could have improved?” Malissa asked Arek, laughing as Ming started to scoot towards Belmont.

“You tell me,” Arek replied. “You’re the chef this morning, not me. I suppose I should be giving you part of my weekly pay.”

“Don’t act as if you’ve been collecting your pay,” Malissa scoffed. “Ming still owes you most of it. You’ve only asked for your money once, and Ming will keep spending everything on more food if you don’t get the rest of it. As for improving the recipe… maybe some garlic? Garlic seems to go good on everything.”

“I agree,” Arek said. “Although you don’t want too much—garlic can overpower other flavors. However, some grated garlic fried in the pan would go well as a topping. What else?”

Malissa drummed her fingers on her chin. “It was a little on the light side. Some meat would probably improve it as well. Maybe some bacon?”

“I like it,” Arek said, his grin growing wider. “You could also cook the bacon first, then use the fat to fry the eggs and bread.”

“You can do that?” Malissa asked, her eyes lighting up. “Now that sounds really good.”

Arek chuckled as Malissa jumped up and dashed off to her tent to start writing down ideas before she forgot them. Meanwhile, Belmont held Ming off with one hand while he chowed down on his sandwich with the other.

Ming let out a defeated groan once the food disappeared down the healer’s gullet. She backed off, shooting him a sullen look.

Belmont finished chewing and sent the mage a superior look. He wiped his hands off thoroughly on the grass and picked up his book.

“It’s good to have you acting normal again,” Belmont told Arek as he rose to his feet. “The moody attitude doesn’t fit you. You’ve had it ever since your magic came back. It’s best you leave the worrying to me. I’m much better at it.”

The healer gave Arek a nod and strode back to his tent, flipping his book open and scanning through it while he walked. Ming bid the orc farewell and headed off to study her own magic, leaving Arek sitting at the campfire.

Malissa’s Egg Sandwiches

2 slices of white bread per sandwich

Spicy mayonnaise*

1 egg per sandwich

Oil**

Bring a pan to medium-high heat and add oil. Toast two slices of bread in it, then remove and set aside.

Add eggs to the pan. Meanwhile, spread the mayonnaise over the faces of the bread.

Remove eggs and set them on the mayo-bread. Put the other slice on top and enjoy.

Arek’s Notes:

*Spicy Mayonnaise can be made by combining 1 cup of mayonnaise with a spoon of hot sauce, a pinch of cayenne pepper and sweet paprika, and a spritz of lime.

**Replace oil with butter for more decadent eggs.

Alternatively, begin the recipe by frying bacon in the pan. Pour out excess oil, but leave some behind and fry both the bread and the eggs in the bacon fat.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Arek drew a deep breath. His mind felt restless after the barrage of emotions he’d gone through. For the first time in years, he felt like he was truly free of the shackles that had bound him for the majority of his adult life.

He rose to his feet, unable to sit around any longer. Arek looked down at his claws. He found that he had no desire to run any more laps around the camp, nor did he want to do push-ups until his arms gave out.

The runes crackled to life. Arek watched them shimmer for a few moments. Something told him that whatever this so-called Blessed One business was about, it would end up in people coming after him and Ming.

They’d barely won the last fight, and Arek had no intentions of going into the next round similarly unprepared. His hands clenched into fists as he drew on the magic stored within the runes.

Green energy sparked out, charging the air around him. It melted together and formed the glowing guandao above his hands. He grabbed it, unsettled by how comforting the weapon’s hilt felt nestled in his palms.

Arek forced his fears back. The magic was there, waiting for his call like a loyal hound. Just like it once had been. This time, though, things were different. He was in control. The magic was just a tool.

The orc pulled his lips back in a snarl. The runes sparked and shifted according to his will. Lines of green energy erupted out of his hands and twisted upwards along his right arm, melding together and forming into glowing plate mail. It ended in a large, curved spike at his shoulder that would have made Belmont jealous.

A faint buzzing filled Arek’s mind and his field of vision expanded. The smell of the campfire grew more pronounced as the world seemed to slow down. He stopped drawing on the magic instantly. It had been many years since he’d last felt the sensation, but it was unmistakable. Battle rage.

Not the false rage that Vell’s runes had given him, but true orc battle rage. It was not the loss of sanity, but an increase in killing intent. And Arek had forgotten how good it felt. He drew a deep breath and wiped a trail of drool away from his chin. He was in control. Not the magic. Not the battle rage. Him.

Arek examined the armor covering his arm. It was much duller than his weapon, but it rang out like real metal when he rapped a fist on it. Arek gave his guandao an experimental swing, but it felt like he wasn’t wearing anything at all.

“I suppose you just don’t forget some things,” Arek said, rolling his shoulders. He cast his gaze around the camp, wishing there was something he could test his powers out on. “It’s been too long…”

“What’s all that grunting?” Belmont asked, stepping out of his tent with his nose buried in his book. He glanced up and froze, his mouth dropping open in awe. “Gods above.”

“I decided it was time that I trained to my fullest potential as well,” Arek said, shifting uncomfortably. “Since you all knew who I was, I didn’t think I needed to continue hiding my magic. Unless you think it’s unsafe for me to use it?”

“It’s not that,” Belmont said, shaking his head and closing the book. “Because of this Blessed One garbage, you need to be as strong as possible. We’ve yet to see any side effects from your magic, so you need to train with it. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“So what’s the problem?” Arek asked, tilting his head with a small frown.

Belmont cleared his throat. “Ah, I was just impressed by your armor. I’m somewhat partial to spikes, but I wasn’t able to get anything that large on mine. The metal kept breaking. How did you do it?”

“Magic, I’m afraid,” Arek said, laughing at Belmont’s crestfallen expression. “Perhaps we could find a large, horned creature and you could use that?”

“That could work,” Belmont said, nodding. “But now I have another question. Do you only have a single arm of armor because you’re limiting your magic usage?”

Arek nodded. “I am. I don’t want to use too much at once. I’m going to work my way back to where I used to be so I don’t stumble into something dangerous.”

“Good,” Belmont said. “I was about to suggest you do the same. In fact, it might be best if you only use magic while someone else is there to observe you, just to be safe. We’ve considered that it could be dangerous to the rest of the party, but it could also somehow harm you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arek said. “It’s a fair point.”

“I know,” Belmont said. “Regardless, are you planning on practicing with your magic? You can’t expect to avoid using it in combat until a fight, or you’ll never get stronger.”

Arek spun the guandao and chuckled. “I suppose so. It’s just… strange to be using part of my full power again. It feels wrong.”

“You’re using it for good this time,” Belmont said. “You aren’t Warchief anymore. There’s no better way to make up for past mistakes than with present actions.”

“That sounds like you’ve thought it over a lot.”

“I have.” Belmont turned away and walked over to Malissa’s tent. He pulled the flap aside and peered in. “Arek is going to train with his magic. If you’re done writing stuff down, do you want to help?”

“Yeah!” Malissa said enthusiastically. “Just give me a second to finish writing this down.”

A few moments later, the two of them emerged from the tent. Malissa raised her eyebrows at Arek’s new armor.

“Fancy-looking. I bet Belmont was jealous of the spike,” Malissa said.

“I didn’t even notice it,” Belmont replied, crossing his arms. Malissa glanced at Arek, but the orc just gave her a wry smile.

Malissa shrugged and the three of them walked a short distance away from their camp so as to avoid ruining the tents while they trained. Malissa’s knives were already in her hands by the time they stopped.

“So, how’s this going to work?” Malissa asked, stretching her arms and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“The same as the first time we sparred,” Arek said. “But I believe we’ve both grown stronger since then. We’ll begin slow and then gradually increase the pace without getting too serious. Belmont will attempt to shield you from all of my attacks.”

“Works for me,” Malissa said. She spun a knife and lowered into a fighting stance. “I’m ready when you are.”

“As am I,” Belmont said.

“Then let us begin,” Arek said.

He stepped forward, swinging the large polearm in a wide attack at Malissa’s side. A pink shield flickered up just in time to block it. It shattered on impact, buying Malissa enough time to dodge out of the way of the strike.

She ducked under Arek’s arms and thrust a dagger at his chest. The orc spun the hilt of the guandao in a circle, knocking her blade to the side. Malissa rolled with the strike, popping up with a new knife already in hand.

“You might need to make your shields stronger,” Arek advised Belmont.

“Understood,” Belmont said.

Arek thrust his weapon towards Malissa, forcing her to dance to the side. The blade flickered through the air, following after her. A thicker shield intercepted the strike, this time stopping its momentum entirely.

Before Malissa could follow up on it, Arek swept the blade before him, forcing her to keep her distance, and took a step backwards. He changed his stance, raising the weapon until it was nearly at his head level, then pointed the blade in Malissa’s direction.

“Get ready,” Arek warned.

Malissa’s response was a dagger that sailed past Arek’s head, narrowly grazing his brow and drawing a thin line of blood. The orc grinned and inclined his head, ceding the point to her, and then stepped forward.

His blow seemed almost sluggish. The strike went wide, and Malissa easily stepped past it. A shield appeared behind her, narrowly blocking the violent follow-up attack that Arek unleashed.

“Gods above, that was fast!” Malissa cursed.

Arek simply grinned, swinging the blade at her neck. Malissa ducked under the attack and dashed forwards, allowing Belmont to catch Arek’s next strike with his shields. She thrust a dagger towards the orc’s stomach.

The blunt end of the guandao slammed into her stomach, breaking through a shield with just enough force to knock the breath out of her. Malissa rolled to the side as Arek’s blade blurred through the air where she’d been standing.

Arek advanced on Malissa, unleashing a baffling barrage of slow and lightning-fast attacks. She was able to land several small attacks on the orc, but nothing that would have put him down if it was a real fight.

The orc leapt backwards to avoid a dagger slash, then lowered his head and charged towards Malissa like a bull.

“Oh, shit,” Malissa cursed, throwing herself to the side as his horned armor nearly impaled her. She rolled to her feet and raised her daggers in an X shape, catching the guandao above her head with a grunt.

The force of the strike traveled through her arms and down to her feet, shaking her body like a gong.

The guandao spun in Arek’s hand, almost of its own volition, and the orc brought it slashing down at Malissa’s side. She gritted her teeth and spun, a whirlwind of daggers appearing at the edges of her robes.

Arek pulled the strike and hopped backwards. Malissa leapt towards him and thrust her daggers upwards towards his chest.

The orc twisted his body, catching both of the blades on his dull green armor. He continued the motion, using his momentum to build up a powerful swing. It slammed into Belmont’s shield, shattering it and causing Malissa to stumble backwards several feet.

Malissa recovered and shot back towards Arek again. She raised her hand, preparing to stab the orc in the side with a dagger, but the attack never came. Instead, she leapt into the air and brought her knee up into the orc’s jaw.

His head snapped up and he let out a grunt. Arek returned the blow by thrusting the blunt end of the guandao into her stomach again, forcing Malissa away from him.

“Good one,” Arek admitted, rubbing his chin. “My turn.”

He changed his stance once again. This time, he transferred the guandao to his right hand and raised his left towards Malissa, palm first. His claws flared with green light as he blurred forward.

Before any of them could react, his blade was resting against Malissa’s neck.

“I win,” Arek said, grinning.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The orc lowered his weapon. Belmont and Malissa gaped at him.

“What was that? How did you move so quickly?” Malissa asked, shaking her head to clear the shock away.

“My runes,” Arek said, somewhat unhelpfully. “The majority of them enhance my fighting abilities.”

“That’s fair enough,” Malissa said, her daggers vanishing from her hands. “But you definitely changed the way you were fighting at least twice. What was that about?”

“I learned several different forms of fighting throughout my years adventuring, and the different styles go well with different runes. I’m a little out of practice, and I don’t want to use too many of the runes yet, so I’ll be sticking to the two you saw for now.”

“Why not test out all of them?” Belmont asked. “You might need them in a more dangerous fight.”

Arek scratched his chin. “I noticed that I was feeling a little bit of orc battle rage. Not the artificial one that Vell accidentally gave me, but the real one. I want to take things slowly to keep an eye on it.”

“Should we be concerned?” Belmont asked.

“I don’t think so,” Arek said, shaking his head. “Not yet, at least. It’s a natural part of me, but I think being overly cautious is best.”

Belmont and Malissa nodded.

“Probably for the bes—” Belmont started.

The sky lit up with pale blue light. A loud crack ripped through the air, releasing a shockwave of air that buffeted Arek’s hair back.

The three of them spun towards the source of the noise. Ming looked back at them sheepishly through the smoking hole in her tent. She lowered the gnarled wood staff in her hand and cleared her throat.

“I figured out a new spell!”

“Blast it,” Belmont cursed. “She’s gotten ahead of me! Arek, Malissa, please excuse me. I have to get back to reading.”

He dashed back to his tent, closing the flap behind him while the other three watched. Ming stepped through the new entrance to her living enclosure, taking care not to touch the molten material surrounding it.

She sniffed the air and licked her lips. “I smell something smoking. Are you cooking again?”

“That would be your tent,” Malissa said, lowering her weapons once it was apparent that there was no new threat to the party.

“Oh,” Ming said, her face falling.

Arek chuckled and allowed his weapon and armor to fade away into particles of light. He rolled his shoulders and yawned even though the sun was still high in the sky.

“I think that’s enough excitement for today,” Arek decided. “Let’s rest for another hour or two before we head off again. We don’t want to be camping here for too long. Don’t forget there’s a guild chasing after us.”

“Why not leave now?” Ming asked before turning and blowing on the side of her tent, trying to cool down the molten fabric.

“I don’t think Belmont would appreciate that very much,” Arek said. “He wanted to study his book since you figured out a new spell. And speaking of spells, what did you do?”

“It’s called a pure magic chain reaction,” Ming said proudly. “It’s similar to a lightning bolt, but the book says that a lot of other spells build off of it. It’s one of the most important pure magic spells beyond just being able to use a bolt.”

“That’s amazing, then!” Arek said. “Although it might be wise to do it outside in the future. I don’t think your tent was meant to have that much extra ventilation in it.”

“I think you might be right,” Ming agreed. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it, it will,” Malissa said, shaking her head. “If we aren’t going to leave quite yet, I’m going to relax in my tent until we do. I’ll start packing up in about an hour, if that’s okay.”

“Works for me,” Arek said. “I’m going to check on my plants. Ming, please try not to blow the camp up while we’re gone.”

“No promises,” Ming said, looking very serious. “I’ll do my best, though.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.” Arek hid his smirk and pulled out the gold medallion. He pressed the inlaid button at its center and popped out of existence.

The orc was greeted by a swathe of greenery. Even after the period of time where he’d forgotten to water them for a while, the plants had come back strong. They’d more than doubled their original size.

Arek wasn’t sure if he could be proud, as the only thing he’d done was bring barrels of water. Luckily, he owned the garden, so there wasn’t anyone around to argue with him.

He walked down the rows of crops, pausing to sniff the basil and marvel at how large plants had gotten. He plucked a leaf from a large, purple-hued basil plant and popped it into his mouth.

The orc grimaced. It tasted more like cinnamon than basil.

“I’m sure there’s some use for you,” he informed the plant before turning towards what Lewis had referred to as cuttings.

They’d grown even further. They didn’t quite resemble full miniature trees yet, but they were working on it. Several of the leaves on the cuttings were larger than his hands. The wood seemed to have thickened slightly as well.

Several of the cuttings had miniscule green bumps sticking out from between the branches. Arek frowned, peering closer at them. The bumps were rather bulbous and the same color as the leaves.

They seemed to be part of the plant, but they were different from the buds that the leaves came out of. Arek sniffed one of the bulbs, but it smelled no different from the rest of the plant.

He contemplated pulling them off, but since the plant seemed to be thriving, he decided it would be best to leave it alone. Perhaps someone in Red Mount would know something about cuttings.

Satisfied, Arek blinked back into the real world. He brushed some of the dirt off his pants and headed into his tent to absorb everything that had happened today.

The time passed quickly. True to their word, the group packed up their tents and put the campfire out before setting back off down the road towards Red Mount. Belmont wasn’t particularly happy about it, as he was yet to learn a new spell. They moved at a brisk pace and traveled until the sun had already started to set beneath the horizon.

Without any animals to hunt in the area, the group ate a somewhat disappointing meal of jerky and cheese. Ming received more than a few hopeful glances from all three of the other members, but she just shook her head sadly.

Once dinner had finished, the Happy Sunflowers set up camp and slept the night away. When Arek awoke the following morning, he joined Malissa in a jog around the camp followed by an hour of combat training with Belmont.

The moment they finished, Belmont whipped his book out and read like his life depended on it. Ming spent the majority of her own time within her tent, although it didn’t do much to conceal her anymore. On the bright side, she had a great reading light.

They set off earlier than they had the previous day, this time leaving right after yet another sad meal of jerky. Days blended together and boredom set in quickly. Ming nearly set fire to the plains several times with her new spells, and Belmont had grown so absorbed within his own book that he didn’t even bother scolding her.

By the time they’d been traveling for just over a week, the huge mountain was no longer at the horizon. It was the horizon. The massive peak stretched into the sky, blotting out the sun for nearly half the day.

There was no clear path up the mountain, which was completely encased in a dense forest that was impossible to see into. They’d only been traveling for a few hours that day when they stopped at the edge of the forest.

“Well, this isn’t ominous,” Arek said, peering into the darkness beneath the canopy. The forest was dark and still. It was eerily silent, as if it were completely empty.

“Do you think there are any animals in there to eat?” Ming asked, stepping up to the tree line and peering past a trunk as if a fat boar were waiting right behind it. “I’ve been looking forward to some real food for the entire trip.”

Belmont looked away from his book, closing it with a snap and tucking it under his arm as he looked from the forest to the map. “There are a lot of spots to ambush someone in a forest. But it’s also quite difficult to track someone within it using nonmagical means. It’s unlikely we’ll have to deal with any human threats, since the Howler guild shouldn’t have figured out where we went yet.”

“It’s disturbingly silent, though,” Malissa said, spinning a dagger in her hand. “I’m not sure why, but that makes me very uncomfortable.”

“Noise tends to mean that prey animals aren’t scared,” Belmont observed. “I find it hard to believe that a forest is devoid of life, so that likely means that there are dangerous predators within these woods.”

“We can eat those,” Ming said eagerly. “Meat is meat.”

“She’s got a point,” Arek agreed. “And it’s unlikely the forest would have anything truly dangerous. Powerful monsters almost always take up residence within a dungeon.”

“Not all of them,” Belmont said, wrapping his book up and placing it within his bag. He sent a nervous glance into the darkness before lowering his voice. “The most powerful ones can roam untamed zones of wilderness.”

“There’s a city at the top of the mountain,” Arek said. “I doubt Red Mount is untamed.”

“And Magus wouldn’t have sent us into a dangerous situation, would he?” Malissa asked, although she didn’t sound particularly sure of herself.

“He totally would,” Ming said. “He’d probably think it was funny.”

“He doesn’t have a sense of humor,” Belmont replied, “but I wouldn’t be particularly surprised if the forest were dangerous. However, I doubt he would have sent us to our deaths.”

“It’s decided, then,” Arek said. “Not that I think we even have another option. If the map is correct, it’ll take us a few days of travel to get through the forest. We should move as quickly as possible.”

“Quickly but carefully,” Belmont said, pulling his pink staff from its place at his side. “Escaping from the Howler guild just to get eaten by a monster would be a very disappointing fate.”

With their course of action decided, the Happy Sunflowers entered the forest. It was humid, but not overly so. A few stray rays of sunshine broke through the thick canopy, but they were few and far between. No more than a few paces into the forest, the majority of the daylight had almost completely vanished.

A small ball of light blue energy formed beside Ming, dimly illuminating the party and the surrounding trees. The trunks weren’t packed tightly together, which made travel a lot easier.

“Thank you,” Malissa whispered.

“No problem,” Ming replied, also in a whisper.

They crept through the woods, watching their surroundings warily. The dark shadows cast by the trees danced at the edges of their vision like shadowy devils, darting away the moment anyone glanced in their direction.

“How are we supposed to tell where we’re going?” Ming whispered, no more than a few minutes after they’d entered the forest. “All the trees look the same to me.”

“Just make sure we’re moving upwards,” Arek replied. “Red Mount is at the top of the mountain, so as long as we head up it, we’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” Ming replied. “That makes sense.”

She spun as something seemed to flicker past the edge of the light, but it had already vanished. Ming frowned and pulled her staff from the bundle on her back, clutching it to her chest tightly.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Wind rustled through the trees in an uneasy, whistling song that set them all even more on edge. The ground had a noticeable slant upwards that pointed them towards the top of the mountain.

It was covered with dried leaves and foliage that crunched under their feet as they walked. Arek shivered even though the forest wasn’t much colder than the plains behind it.

“I don’t like this forest,” Malissa whispered. “It feels wrong.”

They all nodded. It felt as if they shouldn’t even speak within the dark woods. The Happy Sunflowers trudged onwards, pushing through the foliage as it grew denser. The forest remained utterly silent around them.

Arek’s nose twitched as a prickling sensation ran down his spine. He licked his lips involuntarily. The scent of something that could only be described as good wafted into his nose. It felt like warm, buttery bread and rich stew.

It had been years since Arek had last noticed a scent like this. His hair stood on end as he scanned the surroundings, but he found nothing more than leaves and trunks.

“We might have a problem,” Arek whispered. “I think we’re near a very powerful dungeon.”

“How can you tell?” Malissa replied in the same hushed tones. “I thought you said that you couldn’t notice them after Vell gave you the runes.”

“I can’t,” Arek replied, “but I remember this scent. It’s too powerful to mistake. I also felt the orc battle rage recently, so perhaps this green energy is undoing some of the negative effects of the runes. Regardless, I am confident that we are near a dungeon.”

“Red Mount does have a dungeon near it,” Belmont said, sliding up beside them. “When you say there’s a powerful dungeon, how strong are you speaking? Red Mount should have a D-rank dungeon near the top of the peak.”

“C rank at the lowest,” Arek said. “Maybe even bordering B rank. I can’t be certain, but it’s dangerous.”

The shadows shifted over the foliage and Ming jerked her staff to point at it, her hand trembling.

“Did you see something?” Belmont asked, grabbing his staff.

“No,” Ming muttered, lowering her staff when nothing emerged from the darkness. “Just the shadows. I don’t like the dark.”

“Don’t worry,” Malissa said as she put a hand on Ming’s shoulder. “Red Mount should be well patrolled, even if the adventurer’s guild doesn’t have a presence here. It’s still within the Bludon Empire, so all of the strong dungeons are strongly regulated.”

Ming nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. It was the most worried that Arek had ever seen the carefree mage, and that made him feel even more on edge.

They continued onwards, even more warily than before. Arek clenched his hands as they walked, half-hoping that something would just jump out of the shadows at them and break the uneasy tension.

The leaves rustled. A bolt of pure magic ripped out of Ming’s staff, screaming through the air and slamming into where the noise had come from. Malissa’s dagger hurtled after it, disappearing into the brush. A moment later, Belmont’s sword spun twice through the air before slamming into something.

Arek blinked, then reached into his bag and pulled out his cleaver. The four of them exchanged a glance and slowly crept towards the foliage. Arek pushed it aside with his foot, revealing a rather large and thoroughly scorched rabbit with a dagger and a sword sticking out of it.

Arek pulled the sword out of the small creature and handed it to Belmont, who wiped it off on the leaves and returned it to his sheath.

“That’s… unfortunate,” Arek said.

“I’m sorry, bunny,” Ming told it. “I thought you were going to kill us.”

“At least we have dinner,” Arek said, shrugging. “And it’s good to see that there’s something else living in this forest.”

“Was something else living,” Malissa corrected, a small smirk flickering across her face.

Arek let out a chuckle. He picked up the rabbit, removing the dagger and returning it to Malissa. He glanced up through the foliage, but it was impossible to see out of the forest.

“Do you think it’s about time that we should stop to rest?” he asked.

“That would probably be fine,” Belmont said. “But how can we cook it? I do not think starting a fire would be a good idea. This faint light already brings attention to us. We shouldn’t draw more, especially if we’re in a dangerous area.”

Arek frowned, drumming his fingers on his chin. Then he pursed his lips and shrugged helplessly.

“That’s a fair point,” Arek sighed. “We also just made some commotion, so it might be best to keep moving for a short while longer before we stop.”

“So we can’t even eat the rabbit?” Ming asked, looking longingly at it.

“I don’t think your attack fried it nearly enough to make it edible,” Malissa said. “And Belmont is right. There’s something wrong with this forest. We should avoid making a campfire.”

Ming sighed, then nodded. “I think you’re right.”

If anything, that only made them all more worried. Anything scary enough to tame Ming’s appetite, even for a moment, was a dire situation indeed. Arek pushed some leaves to the side and placed the rabbit beneath them. He pushed them back over the creature, covering it as best as he could.

The Happy Sunflowers left the scene of the murder behind quickly and quietly. It was hard to tell exactly how much longer they traveled, but it was around an hour. The ground had gotten steeper, but it still wasn’t much more than a gentle slope.

“This is as good a spot as any,” Belmont said, stopping beside a rather large tree. “No tents. They wouldn’t fit, anyways. I’ll take first watch.”

The others nodded. The forest was slightly humid and the wind had given way to a mildly uncomfortable heat, so there was no need for blankets. They huddled up against the base of the tree and set their backs against it before falling into a shallow sleep.

Cold, wispy fog heralded in the following morning. It swept across the ground with creeping tendrils, further obscuring the forest. Arek’s clothes were thoroughly damp by the time he was thinking coherent thought. Ming, who had taken the last watch, was amusing herself by sending a ball of pure magic darting in and out of the white wall.

The orc swiped at some of the fog near his face, but he only succeeded in pushing it around. Arek grumbled and rose to his feet, rolling his neck to get rid of some of the stiffness.

He nodded to Ming, then stepped a few feet away from the party to take care of morning business on top of some bushes. Malissa and Belmont had both awoken by the time he returned.

“It appears to be normal fog,” Belmont reported, shooing it away from himself like it was a dog. “A very dense fog. It’ll be even harder to see where we’re going now.”

“We could wait until it fades,” Malissa offered, wringing out her thin silken clothing with a small frown.

“That might not be a good idea,” Ming said. “The forest is creepy. I think something was watching us last night.”

They all turned towards her.

“What?” Belmont asked, lowering his voice.

“There were a few times that I felt like we were being watched,” Ming repeated. “I could have been imagining it, though. It happened after I got a snack from my pie hat.”

“A hungry animal, perhaps?” Arek offered.

“We haven’t seen much in the way of wildlife aside from that rabbit,” Belmont said, rubbing his chin. “Gah. Not being able to set up defenses unnerves me. We need to get back to a city.”

“Agreed,” Malissa muttered, giving up on getting the water out of her clothes and letting out a sigh. “There’s no point waiting around to see if Ming saw something or not. We’ll assume she did, and that we’re being watched. Be on your guard.”

The others nodded. Ming maneuvered the orb of light so that it was closer to them and they set back off into the foggy forest, trudging up the mountain step by weary step.

They traveled for several hours before Arek’s back started to tingle. The orc looked over his shoulder and found nothing but fog, which shouldn’t have surprised him. He grimaced and turned back.

The feeling came and went as they continued onwards. Whenever Arek thought he might be imagining it, the feeling returned once again. He was used to being the hunter, not the prey, and he didn’t like this new change of roles.

Several times, the fog seemed to shift at the edges of his vision. However, by the time he turned to look at it, there was nothing. There was no point telling the others, of course. Arek could tell that they saw the same movements he did. The question wasn’t if they were being stalked—it was when they were going to be attacked.

“Is there a way you could get rid of this fog?” Arek whispered to Ming.

“It would be best if I avoided it,” Ming replied. “As I use more pure magic, I can feel my mastery over the other basic magic I knew fading. It would take a lot of power to use enough wind magic to push the fog away.”

“And you can’t do anything with pure magic?” Malissa asked.

“Not yet,” Ming grumbled. “I’ve only learned two spells. I’m working on the third, which might be a bit more useful for situations like this, but I don’t have anywhere near enough understanding to cast it.”

They all looked at Belmont, who pressed his lips thin and shook his head.

“Nothing new here—not yet,” Belmont sighed, slowly moving his head back and forth to watch for anything in the fog. “I’m getting close, but it’s not there. And it’s a healing spell, so it wouldn’t be of any help here.”

“I have something that might help, but it’s a last resort,” Arek said. “It would involve me using a lot more magic than I’ve channeled recently, and I’m not a fan of trying new things in the field.”

“It would be best to avoid that,” Belmont agreed quietly.

As the group ascended the sloping mountain, the fog started to let up a little. It was still dense and dark, but Ming’s light started to illuminate more and more of their surroundings. Whatever was following them seemed to realize it at about the same time the party did.

The leaves to their left rustled. Arek extended his arm, green light flowing out of his runes and forming into the guandao and partial armor over his arm. Malissa’s daggers appeared in her hands, and Belmont tightened his grip on the pink staff.

“On the off chance you’re an intelligent creature, this is when you leave,” Arek called out. “We’re only traveling through, and we want no trouble. However, if you insist on fighting, you’ll not find us an easy snack.”

The response was a low, clicking growl that echoed through the woods around them. Arek shifted his stance, transferring the guandao to his armored hand and raising the other one before him.

“I don’t think it’s friendly,” Ming said.

“Really? What gave that away?” Belmont asked, his eyes now focused on the party rather than their surroundings. He put his back against a tree.

A flicker of gray appeared at the edge of the fog. Arek bounded forward and swung the guandao horizontally. The weapon flared with green light, carving clean through a tree. The weapon slammed into something dense with a resounding clang.

The fog vanished as a loud roar and a blast of wind erupted from whatever Arek had struck. For the first time, the Happy Sunflowers laid eyes on the creature that had been following them all day.

It was reptilian and about the size of a large horse, with pale gray scales and large, curled horns. The creature’s tongue flicked out of its mouth as it hissed, bearing rows of jagged fangs.

“Wyrm,” Arek called out, hopping back as the wyrm’s barbed tail pierced the air and narrowly missed his head. He adjusted his grip on the guandao and gave the creature a savage grin as battle rage started to thrum in his ears and eyes. “I’ve always wondered what one of you would taste like.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

The wyrm let out a grating cry. It lunged forward, its long neck extending as it snapped at Arek with jagged teeth.

The orc dodged to the side, twisting and bringing his large weapon crashing down on the creature’s neck. A loud chime ran through the forest. A tremor ran down Arek’s hands as the force of the strike nearly shook the guandao out of his grip.

He hopped back, adjusting his stance to hold the weapon above his head with both hands and lowering his center of mass.

“The wyrm’s armor is incredibly hard,” Arek warned. “We’ll need to aim for weak spots.”

“Understood,” Malissa said, dashing past him and sending a dagger spinning for the creature’s eye.

The wyrm jerked its head back and swiped at the woman with a large, clawed hand. She leapt over the strike, Belmont’s shield flickering into being for an instant in case the attack had hit her, and thrust her weapon towards its head.

Arek stepped forward as well, swinging the guandao in a slow strike at the wyrm’s flank to split its attention. It hissed, stepping forward unexpectedly and whipping its scaled head against Malissa like a club. Arek’s own attack slammed against the wyrm’s armor, forcing the creature to stagger but failing to break through its scales.

Belmont’s shield absorbed most of the impact, but Malissa was still sent flying back to the ground. She put the momentum into a roll, hopping back to her feet as a bolt of pure magic sailed past their heads and struck the creature in its chest.

The energy crackled and sparked, leaving a small, blackened patch on the monster’s scales. The wyrm let out a hissing laugh. It lashed out at Malissa with its tail, forcing the woman to hop back again.

Arek raised his guandao into the air and brought it down in a violent overhead strike on top of the creature’s back. It tried to tear him apart with a claw, but the long shaft of Arek’s weapon gave him an advantage in range.

The wyrm screeched as the attack thundered into it. The blow failed to pierce its scales once more, but the blunt force was enough to ignite a spark of anger in the monster’s eyes.

“Get down!” Ming yelled.

Arek and Malissa didn’t hesitate. They both threw themselves to the side as a series of glowing blue pinpricks flashed across the forest, making a starry trail between Ming’s staff and the wyrm.

An instant later, a series of violent explosions tore through the air. A brilliant flash of light lit up the forest as the wyrm let out a screech of pain and slammed against a tree.

A large patch of scales at its side had been seriously blackened. Arek leapt back to his feet and charged the monster, thrusting the point of his guandao towards the area that Ming’s attack had hit.

The wyrm lowered its head and met the orc’s charge, hoping to impale him on its horns. An instant before they connected, Arek dropped his weapon and grabbed the monster’s horns with both of his hands.

He jerked downwards with all of his strength. The unexpected motion was enough to force the wyrm’s head to the ground.

Malissa slipped past Arek and leapt onto the creature’s back before bringing a dagger into the blackened scales with both of her hands. She and the wyrm let out a cry as the scales shattered and the blade pierced its shoulder.

She leapt free and tumbled to the side, avoiding the monster as it shook Arek free and threw its body against a tree in an attempt to dislodge Malissa.

Arek kicked his guandao off the ground and into his hands before thrusting it towards the creature’s mouth, which was opening to let out another cry.

The wyrm realized its mistake too late. The blade went through its teeth and bit deep into the back of its throat. Arek twisted the blade, stepping forward to keep it from escaping.

Malissa vaulted over Arek’s back, twisted midair, and brought two daggers down into each of the wyrm’s eyes before she’d even landed on its back.

The wyrm snapped its mouth shut and threw its body into a roll, trying to crush Malissa beneath it and disarm Arek. Belmont summoned a shield around Malissa moments before she was slammed into a tree.

Another bolt of pure magic screamed through the air and blasted into the wyrm’s already-injured shoulder. With Arek’s weapon in its throat, the creature couldn’t even scream. Malissa leapt back onto it, grabbing the daggers that were already lodged within its eyes and forcing them deeper into its brain.

The wyrm shuddered, one last huff of air escaping its scaled nostrils before it collapsed, motionless. The Happy Sunflowers watched it warily for several moments, but it did not move again.

Arek’s weapon and armor faded away as the battle rage left him. Malissa jumped off the wyrm’s back and gave the others a nod.

“Good job, everyone,” Malissa said.

“My new spell is awesome!” Ming said happily. “I have to be a bit careful, though. I don’t want to blow you guys up on accident.”

“I do prefer myself un-blown up,” Belmont said, failing to hide his pleased grin. Not a single blow had gotten through his shields throughout the entire fight.

Arek knelt beside the dead wyrm. He removed Malissa’s daggers and handed them back to her.

“Like Malissa said, good job all,” Arek said, but lines of worry creased his face. “I haven’t seen a wyrm in a long time. They’re rather nasty creatures, and they absolutely adore magic. Normally, they’d be inside a dungeon. If it’s roaming around here…”

“The dungeon might not be getting cleared,” Belmont said with a grim frown. “We need to get to Red Mount.”

“I agree,” Arek said, pulling his cleaver free from his bag. “But we need to be prepared. Wyrm scales are quite tough and will make good armor. We shouldn’t leave them behind.”

He wedged the weapon into the monster’s shoulder, where Ming had blasted it with pure magic, and started prying the scales free.

“Don’t just stand around and watch me,” Arek griped. “Time is of the essence, remember?”

It quickly became apparent that they weren’t going to be able to skin the beast in a reasonable amount of time. After hacking at it for just over an hour, the group had collected just under half of the scales. Arek had also managed to lop off and store the creature’s large horns, which now protruded from the mouth of his travel pack.

Arek used his cleaver to carve away a large, heavy chunk of the beast’s flesh. He raised it with a small frown before shrugging and summoning his guandao. He used it to impale the large piece of meat and then slung it over his shoulder.

“Let’s get moving,” he said. “We don’t want to stick around after all the noise we just made.”

“Are you going to cook that?” Ming asked, licking her lips as the Happy Sunflowers started back up the mountain.

“I was planning on it.”

“I’m not sure a campfire is a good idea,” Belmont warned. “I doubt that wyrm was what was making the forest feel so unsettling. I feel a little better after killing it, but something still feels off. I think we should avoid drawing attention to ourselves.”

Arek’s face fell. “Damn. You’re probably right. I’m sorry, Ming. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Maybe I could keep it in my Bag of Colding?” Malissa offered. “It’ll be a tight fit, but there’s a chance I can stuff it in there.”

Arek swung the chunk of meat over to Malissa, who pulled it off his guandao with a slight grimace before prying her white bag open as far as it would go and stuffing the meat into it.

The bag’s mouth was just barely able to stretch around the large cut, and it was with no little effort that Malissa forced it inside. She let out a sigh and wiped her hands off on a nearby tree.

“Thank you,” Arek said. “It would have been a shame to waste even more food.”

“I agree,” Ming said, watching Malissa’s bag as if she wanted to eat the meat raw—which wouldn’t have been entirely out of character. “All food should be transported directly to my stomach to avoid spoilage.”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Belmont said. “It’s fine to waste food if it means we get out of the unsettling forest sooner. You are not going back to the wyrm’s corpse to get any more meat from it.”

Ming’s face fell and she let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. We better get to Red Mount soon, then. I want to eat something tasty.”

The Happy Sunflowers fell back into silence. The fog continued to fade until it had completely vanished, but the forest was still dark. Time started to become an abstract concept. Without a view of the sky, the group chose to break for “night” whenever they started to feel tired.

Time wore on slowly and maddeningly. They were attacked several more times—once by another wyrm, and the others by a group of rather large leopards. The Happy Sunflowers fended their opponents off each time, but the heavy atmosphere of the forest and the long journey made each one harder than the last.

The higher up the mountain they climbed, the harder it seemed to draw breaths. However, as they continued their trek, the trees started to thin out. The tall, dense foliage grew lighter and shorter. The trunks grew farther apart and, finally, daylight started to peek through the tiny gaps between the leaves.

Once they spotted the light, the Happy Sunflowers redoubled their efforts to leave the forest. Their pace increased until they were all practically jogging by the time the seemingly endless wall of trees suddenly came to an end.

The party burst forth from the tree line and onto the top of a large plateau. There, silhouetted against the mountains by the setting sun, was an enormous city. A tall, ornate wall rose up around it.

Curving buildings of red and brown towered above the walls, looking over the rest of the city. Four massive braziers burned at each of Red Mount’s corners. They were each easily the size of several houses. Enormous pillars of smoke rose up into the sky from the braziers, forming a heavy, overcast cloud of smog far above the city.

Aside from the path before them that led up to the city, Red Mount was surrounded by sheer cliffs. They were so high up that the clouds were actually below them.

“Wow,” Belmont breathed, unable to form any further words.

“It’s beautiful, in a strange way,” Arek said. “Although, to be honest, it could have been the ugliest city I’ve ever seen and I’d still love it. Anything to get out of that damn forest.”

“Agreed,” Malissa said, shuddering. “I smell bad enough to knock out the next wyrm we fight. I need a bath and a bed.”

“Food,” Ming said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

They started towards Red Mount, the weight of their travels bearing down on them. Luckily, the city was only a short walk away from the edge of the forest. As the group grew closer, several guards at the gate glanced in their direction. They wore red-and-brown uniforms, with armor made of wood strips belted together with chain.

Despite the sound of their armor, it was in good shape and polished with something that almost gave it a metallic sheen. The men stood in prepared stances, watching the Happy Sunflowers approach cautiously.

Arek saw a myriad of emotions pass across the guards’ faces, ranging from shock to fear. All too late, the orc realized that he’d forgotten to wear his mask. He sighed. It was too late for that now.

“Halt,” one of the guards ordered. “What brings you to Red Mount, and what is your affiliation?”

“Travel,” Malissa said. “And we’re just an adventuring party.”

“That walked through the forest instead of flying in?” another guard asked.

“We’re only F rank,” Belmont said. “We can’t fly.”

The guards exchanged a glance.

“F-rank adventurers survived the forest?” one said. “Not likely.”

“We might be due for a promotion soon,” Arek said. To their credit, the guards handled his speech well. Their eyes widened, but not a single one of them flinched.

“What’s your group name?” the first guard asked.

“The Happy Sunflowers,” Ming said, blinking at the guards with wide, innocent eyes. “Look, I’m really hungry and everything is starting to look like food. Please let me in.”

“If they survived the forest, they might be able to help,” one of the guards whispered to the other. Arek’s ear twitched, but he did his best to pretend that he hadn’t overheard them.

The guard just grunted. “Will you consent to an examination under a Truesight Artifact?”

“No,” Arek replied. “I have secrets to keep, as do many of us.”

“Very well. Red Mount is a neutral zone. Guilds are not permitted to settle here, and we have our own laws, independent from the adventurer’s guild.”

“That’s fine,” Malissa said with a weary yawn. “We’ll behave.”

“Then welcome to Red Mount. You’ll find an inn down the main road on your right. Just remember that breaking our laws is punishable by imprisonment or death, depending on the severity of the crime. As for you, orc, we have no issue with monsters within our walls. However, if you fail to control yourself, you will be killed.”

“I think I can handle my primal urges to dropkick children, but thanks for the warning,” Arek said, wearily inclining his head in the guard’s direction.

The exhausted group trudged into Red Mount. With Malissa at their lead, the four of them managed to follow the instructions they’d been given to find the inn.

The building was several stories tall, with each floor growing smaller. It looked like a tower of reddish-brown blocks with a sloping roof separating each floor. The door was made of a light, ribbed wood that swung open easily when Malissa touched it.

The dining room was rather quaint. Although it was large, the tables were all plain and unadorned. The floor was made of the same wood as the door, and tall stools had taken the place of traditional chairs.

There were a few people scattered about at the tables, eating from wooden bowls and plates. They were all quite silent, and none of them looked in the Happy Sunflowers’ direction when they entered.

A thin woman with long black hair and a flowing white robe stood behind a counter, examining a sheet of paper. As they walked over to her, she looked up and set the paper down, giving them a slight smile. The woman didn’t seem particularly perturbed by Arek’s presence.

“Welcome to the Red Flower,” she said, inclining her head in a small bow. “I assume you four would like a few rooms?”

“Two, please,” Malissa said.

“Of course,” the woman replied, smiling at them. “That’ll be four silver.”

Malissa reached into her bag and handed the requested money to the woman. It disappeared within the folds of her robes and she inclined her head once again, pulling out two keys and handing them to Malissa.

“Would you like food as well?”

“Yes!” Ming said.

“No,” everyone else said. They all turned to look at Ming. She shrugged.

“How can you still have the energy to eat?” Malissa asked. “I haven’t had a good night’s rest in a week.”

“Food is good for sleep,” Ming said confidently.

“I don’t think it is, actually,” Arek grumbled. “Maybe bring her the food after the rest of us get to our rooms?”

“Of course,” the woman said, hiding a grin at their antics. “You’ll be in rooms 2F and 2G. Your stay includes one meal, so if you don’t feel like dinner today, you’re welcome to come down for breakfast.”

They nodded and Malissa handed one of the keys to Belmont. The woman directed them up a thin staircase at the corner of the room. Ming flopped down at a table while everyone else headed up to find their rooms.

“Are we sure it’s wise to leave Ming on her own?” Arek asked with a small frown. “I don’t want to get run out of town.”

“She’s got to be just as tired as we are,” Malissa said. “She’ll probably fall asleep right after getting her food. She’s broke and I don’t think the staff would let someone rob her. And, tired or not, I pity anyone that tries to attack Ming.”

Arek couldn’t disagree with that, and he was too tired to put much more thought into the subject. They reached the second floor and stepped out of the curling staircase. The floor creaked with each step as they walked along the rows of rooms until they reached 2F and G, which were right next to each other.

The doors were the same flimsy-looking wood, which didn’t reassure Arek much. He was pretty sure he could knock it over with a sneeze.

Malissa’s key worked on the first door they tried, so Belmont stuck his key into the other one. It swung open with a click.

“See you guys tomorrow,” Malissa said, offering them a slight grin. “Don’t stay up too late setting traps, Belmont.”

“Sleep well,” Arek said.

Belmont echoed the sentiments as he and Arek walked into their room. There were two beds, one on either side of the room. They had thin, dainty sheets that Arek could practically see through. The pillows looked incredibly soft as well.

A small desk and a stool sat beside each bed, and there was a small window in the center of the outwards-facing wall. Belmont locked the door behind them, then knelt to examine the lock.

Arek dragged himself over to the bed and yawned, peeling the thin sheets back carefully with two fingers in hopes that there was something heavier under them. There was no such luck.

He let out a sigh and removed the sheets entirely, tossing them onto the ground lest he accidentally rip them apart in his sleep. Arek climbed onto his bed, setting his travel pack down beside it and removing his bandolier before lying down.

The pillow was about half the size of his head, but when he got it perfectly centered, it actually felt quite nice. Unfortunately, his feet didn’t quite fit in the bed. They hung over the end. Arek wiggled his toes, letting out an annoyed grumble before curling his legs to properly fit on the bed.

He let out a loud yawn, blinking wearily as he settled down. Something made a click. Arek’s eye twitched. A few more moments passed in silence, and he started to doze off. There was another click.

The orc’s eyes snapped open and he rolled over. Belmont was fiddling with the lock. As Arek watched, it let out another click.

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the lock so they can’t pick it,” Belmont said. It clicked again.

“How?”

“Gumming it up with glue,” Belmont said with smug satisfaction, rising to his feet and nodding in approval.

Arek sighed. “Well, I guess we won’t be disturbed. I’d be worried about getting trapped in here if that door wasn’t so damn flimsy-looking.”

Arek realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. Belmont’s eyes widened and he let out a curse.

“You’re right,” Belmont said. “This isn’t enough protection.”

He reached into his extradimensional bag and pulled out the pan that he’d evidently reclaimed from Malissa. He raised his hands to start setting it up over the door. Then he paused, his brow furrowing.

“Too predictable,” Belmont muttered. “I have to think outside the box.”

He scratched his chin, oblivious to Arek’s annoyed glare as he thought. Belmont’s eyes lit up and he reached into his bag, pulling out the oil. He turned the pan over, coated the bottom of it with a generous layer, and carefully set the pan in front of the door.

“If they step inside, they’ll step on the pan and slip,” Belmont said, pleased with his own brilliance. “They’ll be expecting a pan to hit them in the face when they enter, so this will be unpredictable.”

“I don’t think anyone expects to get hit in the face when walking into a room,” Arek grumbled. “I think we’re pretty safe now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Not in the slightest,” Belmont said. He rose to his feet and clanked across the room over to the window. He inspected it with a frown, then reached into his bag and searched around for something.

Arek rolled his eyes and turned over, trying to muffle the sounds. It wasn’t particularly effective.

After several minutes, Belmont finally let out a noise of approval. He wandered back over to his bed and reached into his bag, pulling out what appeared to be a thick, wooly tarp. He laid it out over his sheets and climbed on top of it. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t take off his armor.

Arek hid a relieved sigh. Allowed silence at last, he started to drift off to sleep.

“Do you think someone could enter through the ceiling above us?” Belmont whispered.

“Go to sleep!” Arek snapped. “At this point, I’d rather someone dropped down and stabbed me.”

Belmont muttered a few complaints, but he said nothing more. Arek let a small grin cross his face as he finally, blissfully allowed the darkness to take him.

The following morning greeted Arek with a warm, comforting beam of sunlight directly concentrated into his eyes.

The orc groaned, rolling over to get out of the light. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. Arek swore under his breath as he pushed himself upright. The room was dark.

Sunlight had managed to poke through the window and illuminate only a single spot out of everywhere in the room—and it was Arek’s bed. The orc rubbed the weariness out of his eyes and stood up.

Belmont was still asleep. The sun evidently only had it out for one of them. Arek reached down and grabbed his travel pack, slinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the door.

His foot landed on something slippery and he pinwheeled his arms, barely catching his balance as the oil all over the ground nearly sent him crashing down.

Arek pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes. He carefully stepped over the patch of oil and grabbed the door handle. He noticed something was awry just as the handle turned. A dark blur at the corner of his vision was all the warning Arek got.

He ducked as a pan swung through the air, clanging against the door with a loud bang. Belmont leapt from his bed with a startled sputter, his hand reaching for his sword.

“We’re under attack!” Belmont yelled.

“By you!” Arek snapped back.

Belmont blinked and looked around, realizing that nobody else was in their room. He frowned and sent Arek a confused look. “Why did my trap go off if nobody else is in here?”

“Maybe because you rigged it to the door?” Arek suggested, unable to stop a small laugh from slipping through his lips. The pan had been tied to the ceiling bars with some sort of thin thread, although Arek wasn’t certain how Belmont had managed to keep it there.

“But why did you set it off?”

“Because I didn’t notice it,” Arek grumbled. “You had the pan on the floor last night! How did it get to the ceiling?”

“I moved it, of course,” Belmont said, clicking his tongue. “What if someone was listening in on us? I had to modify our defenses to make sure they’d be unprepared for them.”

“Well, I suppose it worked,” Arek said. “Just on me instead of an intruder. It seems a bit pointless to trap a room against ourselves.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t set our own traps off,” Belmont said. “They’re meant for the intruders, after all.”

“How am I supposed to do that when you change them overnight?” Arek asked. “Actually, don’t answer that. Can I open this door safely?”

“Watch out for the glue on the handle,” Belmont said. “And the caltrops I’ve got next to the window, in case you need to climb through it.”

“I don’t think I’d fit through that window,” Arek said, sighing. He carefully opened the door again and glanced back. “Are you coming down?”

“Right after I set up the traps again. We don’t want someone to hide inside our room while we’re gone and then get the jump on us.”

“Right. That sounds like a good idea. I think I’ll just use our special knock if I get back before you come down.”

“A good idea,” Belmont said with an approving nod.

Arek just massaged his forehead as he closed the door, taking care not to use the handle. The orc wandered over to Malissa and Ming’s room, rapping once on the door. There was no response, so he headed down the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, Arek found Malissa and Ming sitting at a table. A large stack of bowls had piled up beside Ming, who was in the process of shoveling soup into her mouth with a large spoon.

Arek wandered over and sat down.

“Good morning, Arek,” Malissa said.

“Morning,” Arek said. “Ming hasn’t been down here this whole time, has she?”

“Just a few hours,” Ming said. “Their soup is good. Sorry for cheating on your cooking.”

Arek chuckled. “I suspect I’ll live, as heartbroken as I am.”

He peered at Ming’s unfinished bowl, sniffing. The soup actually smelled quite good. It was rich and earthy, with hints of soy sauce and a warm, pleasant note. Arek licked his lips and glanced around for a waitress.

It didn’t take long to spot one. The woman from the previous night swept over to their table, her eyebrows only raising slightly at the sight of Ming still eating.

“Could I get what she’s having?” Arek asked, nodding to the growing mountain of bowls.

“Of course,” the waitress replied, smiling and heading into a door behind the counter.

Arek made himself comfortable on the slightly too-small stool and set his bag down on the ground beside himself.

“Where’s Belmont?” Malissa asked.

“Trapping the room,” the orc replied with a sigh. “He nearly took me out with your pan this morning.”

“I was wondering what happened to it,” Malissa said. “When did he even get a chance to sneak it out of my bag? If that man devoted half the effort he spent on traps to anything else, he’d be a real force to be reckoned with.”

Ming mumbled her agreement through a mouthful of soup.

“So, what are the plans now?” Arek asked, leaning in a little. “Magus is meant to contact us, right? Do you know how he’ll do that, Ming?”

“Probably not with magic,” Ming said, pausing with the spoon a few inches away from her mouth. “Red Mount has a field of energy that blocks magic cast from outside of it. He must have some other way to get word to us.”

“The post, perhaps?” Malissa suggested.

“How would a courier get up here?” Arek asked. “I doubt Red Mount is in the normal route they take.”

“Maybe they’ve got a special agreement. I don’t know,” Malissa said with a shrug. “Doesn’t hurt to check, though.”

“Fair enough,” Arek agreed. “We can do that after Belmont comes down and gets some food.”

Ming started eating faster at the thought of having to abandon her meal station. A short while later, the waitress emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of soup. She expertly shifted it to one hand, picking up a pile of bowls to make space on the table before setting Arek’s food down in front of him.

“Thank you,” Arek said, inclining his head.

The soup had long strips of something tan mixed in with what he recognized as strips of beef, black mushrooms, and possibly chicken. All of it floated within a rich brown broth. The orc licked his lips and dipped his spoon into the broth, tasting it without any of the floating ingredients.

It was rich and smoky, with the slightest tinge of heat and soy. There was a kick of something acidic as well. The broth had enough saltiness to make Arek eagerly lower his spoon to get another taste, but not so much that he was instantly thirsty.

“This is quite good,” Arek said after several more spoonfuls. “Better than most of the other soups I’ve had, actually. It’s so complex!”

“I agree,” Malissa said. “I can’t quite eat like Ming, but I managed to stuff down two bowls. I’m not sure how this is made, but it’s amazing. Do you think we can get the recipe?”

“I’d love to try,” Arek said. “We might have to trade something for it if we can even get the chef to part with it. This kind of dish is something that has been worked on for years to reach the flavor balance that we’re experiencing.”

Ming nodded empathetically, pausing to glance at the stairwell as Belmont wandered down it. The heavily armored man scanned the room before making his way over to their table.

“Are you going to get something to eat?” Malissa asked when Belmont made no moves to sit down.

“Not yet,” he replied, his voice low. “I need to investigate this tavern to make sure they don’t hold a grudge against us or have possible reasons to try to take our life. Do not worry—I have some jerky left.”

“Your loss,” Arek said, tipping the remains of the soup into his mouth in one large gulp. He smacked his lips and grinned, setting the bowl down.

“We’re planning on checking the post to see if any couriers come through Red Mount,” Malissa informed Belmont. “Maybe Magus sent something through them.”

“A good idea,” Belmont agreed. “We should find out some information about the dungeon afterwards. Whatever was going on in that forest wasn’t normal.”

Arek and Malissa nodded in agreement. They all turned to look at Ming, who glared at them and shoveled the last of her soup into her mouth. She let out a contented sigh and patted her stomach.

“I guess I’m ready too,” Ming said.

They rose from the table as the waitress made her way over to them.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal,” she said. “Will you be returning later today, or would you like to pay your tab now?”

“We’ll be back tonight,” Malissa promised.

“Wonderful. Please enjoy your time in Red Mount,” the waitress replied, picking up a large stack of bowls and heading back toward the kitchen.

“Actually, could I speak to the chef?” Arek asked.

She stopped and glanced back, raising an eyebrow. “Chef Brod? Why?”

“I like picking up recipes whenever I travel to new places,” Arek said. “If he’s willing, I’d like to see what he’s making. I can offer a recipe of my own in exchange.”

The waitress blinked, then shrugged. “I don’t see why not. He’s always going on about people not being interested in cuisine.”

Arek grinned. He followed her through the door and into the kitchen, where a portly man with tanned skin stood before a large bamboo steamer, setting it up over a magical stove.

“Who’s this?” the man asked, turning towards the waitress.

“A fellow chef interested in learning something,” she replied. “You too busy for him right now?”

“Never too busy for anyone that shares a common passion,” Brod said, dusting his flour-covered hands off on his clothes and extending a hand to Arek.

The orc shook it, taking care not to accidentally hurt the man with his claws. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Brod said happily. “I’m just about to make my specialty: steamed buns.”

“Steamed buns?” Arek asked, cocking his head. “You steam the dough?”

“You’ve never had them?” Brod said, clicking his tongue. “That must change. You’ve arrived at the perfect time.”

He led Arek over to a counter where half a dozen wooden bowls had been set out. All but the largest bowl had ingredients portioned out into them.

“It’s really quite simple,” Brod explained, picking up a bowl of flour. “You only need flour, sugar, oil, salt, yeast, and milk. The difficulty is in the ratios.”

He poured the flour into the large bowl, then grabbed another bowl of what Arek was pretty sure was still flour.

Brod poured it in, then gave Arek a wry grin. “You are thinking, ‘Brod, why do you add flour twice?’, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Arek admitted.

“They are not the same,” Brod said. “One flour is normal, the one you usually use. The other is special. It is finer and has less strength so that my dough will be fluffier and lighter. You can buy it in the markets here and in many other cities.”

“Interesting,” Arek said. “How do you know how much to add?”

“Experience. Take equal parts of both flours and then add liquids until the dough comes together. It must be stretchy and strong at the end.”

He picked up a tiny bowl full of a brownish powder and dumped it into a bowl of milk.

“Yeast?” Arek guessed. “But why milk?”

“Because milk makes the bread taste better than water,” Brod said. “And I like milk. Easy.”

Arek chuckled at the man’s easygoing grin. Brod poured a dash of oil into the main bowl, then followed it up with some sugar. He poured the yeast-and-milk mixture in last, then whistled. Ghostly hands formed above the dough and started to mix it together.

“The kneading is the hardest part,” Brod said. “You must knead this dough for at least fifteen minutes to get the proper texture. And if that doesn’t happen—start over. The buns must be light and fluffy, or they are not buns at all.”

Arek nodded, watching the bowl with rapt attention. As the minutes passed, the dough slowly came together. Arek was initially confident that it was going to end up flaky and rough, but it incorporated far better than he’d expected.

Before long, the dough was silky and smooth. Brod dismissed the hands and tested it, pinching and tugging the dough. Satisfied, he split the dough into several smaller balls. “Aha. You see? Stretchy.

“Now I make the filling.” Brod pushed the dough to the side and brought Arek over to the stove. He set out a pan and pulled out a bowl full of chopped bananas covered in sugar. Brod dumped them into the pan.

“You’re caramelizing the bananas?” Arek asked. “That’s the filling?”

“My favorite little twist,” Brod said, rubbing his hands together. “Not typical, but that’s the beauty of steamed buns. Put anything you want in them. Bananas, meat, vegetables, even pickles!” Brod paused, then winked at Arek. “Maybe not pickles.”

Arek couldn’t help but laugh again. Brod flipped the bananas in the pan, revealing the caramelized backsides, then put them in yet another bowl after a few more minutes.

He took one of the dough balls and flattened it out in his hand, expertly shaping it into a flattened disc with a slightly raised portion in the center. He spooned some of the banana filling into the center, then pulled the sides of the disc up around them, pinching it shut. The entire process only took a few seconds.

“You want to try?” Brod asked.

“I’d love to,” Arek said.

He took a dough ball and tried to mimic Brod’s actions. The ball stubbornly refused to flatten into a perfect circle, and when he managed to get it flat, he realized that there was no bump in the center.

“What’s the little bump you left in yours for?” Arek asked, trying and failing to close the bun without squeezing all the ingredients out.

“It will keep the dough from getting stained or leaking since that portion will be below the filling,” Brod said, reaching over and helping Arek pinch the bun shut. “A good first attempt.”

Arek helped him fill the rest of the buns. Once they’d finished, Brod set them out on the counter. He waved his hands over them, casting the acceleration spell that Arek favored. The buns immediately nearly doubled in size. Brod set the risen buns out in his already-boiling steamer, then covered them.

“Now we wait for a few minutes,” Brod said. “They cook quickly.”

Arek watched the steamer curiously. A short while later, Brod took the top off the steamer and removed the buns. They’d remained pure white, almost like freshly fallen snow.

“Try one,” Brod insisted, picking a bun up and handing it to Arek. The dough almost felt bouncy in Arek’s grip. He tore it in half to get a better look at the bun’s crumb.

“That’s fascinating,” Arek said. “It’s like a little cloud.”

He took a bite out of the bun and chewed thoughtfully. The bun itself was fluffy and soft, just how Brod had proclaimed it would be. The filling was sweet and honestly a little strange, but Arek could see where Brod was going with it.

Arek thanked the man for his time and offered up a recipe of his own, but Brod refused and stuffed several more buns into Arek’s hands before sending him back to rejoin his team.

Brod’s Steamed Buns

180 grams of all-purpose flour

180 grams cake flour

1 packet active dry yeast

60 grams sugar

1 tablespoon oil

Pinch of salt

150g cold milk

1. Mix yeast with milk and set aside

2. Pour all dry ingredients into a bowl. Add in wet ingredients and milk/yeast mixture. If you have a mixer, run it on the lowest setting with a dough hook. Add more milk if needed to bring everything together.

3. Knead until dough is smooth and stretchy: Break dough off into 10-12 small balls. If you are not making a filling, skip to step 6.

4. Flatten the balls into discs, leaving small bumps in the center. Place filling in the center of the disc and fold the sides upwards, pulling and twisting to seal it around the filling.

5. Leave them to rise for 1 hour in a warm place.

6. Place in a steamer and steam for 8 minutes. (Only for fillings that are already cooked.)

7. Turn off the heat and let the steamer sit for a few minutes, then remove buns and enjoy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Happy Sunflowers headed out of the inn once Arek returned and got their first look at Red Mount in the daylight. One thing was for certain: it wasn’t hard to tell where the city got its name. The reddish stone that had been used to make much of the city shone a deep crimson in the light.

The buildings were beautiful. Each one seemed to have been built in a slightly different method. Some had longer, sloping roofs, while others had murals painted across the stone with shimmering paints.

However, Arek quickly decided that his favorite part of the city were the signposts at every street corner.

They were large wooden poles pierced with dozens of arrows, each one with a word engraved into them.

Instead of having to hunt around for the post, it only took a few minutes for the group to spot the appropriate name and set off down the street that its arrow pointed towards. A short walk later, the four adventurers came to a stop before a small building with a wooden sign denoting it as the post.

It was only two floors, and the stone looked a little more worn down than the other buildings in the area. The doors swung open with a loud creak as the Happy Sunflowers entered. The smell hit Arek instantly; it wasn’t bad as much as earthy.

A portly man sat in the center of the room, surrounded by around a dozen plump birds with bulbous eyes and tiny beaks. He glanced in their direction and scrambled to his feet.

“Can I help you?” he asked, brushing some dirt from his clothes. Then he blinked, squinting closer at Arek. “Wait, an orc?”

“Indeed,” Arek said, hiding a grimace as the Happy Sunflowers tensed.

“What a coincidence. I’ve got mail for you,” the postman said, gently moving some of the birds out of the way as he headed across the dirty floor to a countertop at the side of the room. He started shuffling through papers, then paused. “You are the Happy Sunflowers, right?”

“We are,” Malissa confirmed, eagerly stepping forward. “Who was the mail from?”

“No clue,” the postman replied, shrugging. “The sender used bird mail. It was just signed with an M, although it’s been paid for.”

He located an envelope and pulled it free of the pile. He scanned over it one more time and then nodded before heading back over to them and handing the letter to Malissa. Arek’s nose twitched as the man grew closer—he smelled like, well, a birdhouse. It wasn’t a good smell.

“We don’t get much mail nowadays, so I was pretty shocked when this came in,” the postman said, reaching down to pluck a particularly loud bird from the ground. He ran a hand down its head, soothing the creature instantly.

“Why don’t you get mail?” Belmont asked while Malissa carefully opened the letter. Ming stood on her tiptoes to try to read what Magus had written in it. “Is it because Red Mount is so hard to reach?”

“It isn’t all that hard to reach for the birds, usually,” the post man said, wringing his hands. He glanced at the door behind them. “But not as of late. You’re actually quite lucky that the bird carrying your message arrived. The sender put some sort of protective shield around the bird, and that was probably the only reason she made it.”

“What changed?” Arek asked. “I’ll admit that the forest was quite intimidating when we passed through it, but the birds shouldn’t have to enter. Are there flying creatures hunting them as well?”

“Wyverns,” the postman said with a heavy sigh. His brow creased and his hands clenched. “They’ve taken a dozen of my beauties already.”

“Why are wyverns flying around here?” Ming asked, giving up on reading the letter until Malissa was done with it. “They’re mid-D-class monsters!”

“Ming is right,” Belmont said. “Wyverns shouldn’t be leaving their dungeons. According to the Adventurer’s Handbook, they like very high concentrations of magic, which wouldn’t be present outside a dungeon unless…”

Belmont trailed off, his face paling.

“When’s the last time the Red Mount dungeon was cleared?” Arek asked, goosebumps raising on his skin.

The postman swallowed. “It’s been a few months.”

“What?” Malissa exclaimed, nearly dropping the letter. “Months? You need to get an adventuring team here immediately! If the dungeon is overflowing this badly already, a horde could come out at any moment. Red Mount is in serious danger!”

“We know,” the postman muttered. He gave them a helpless shrug. “There’s nothing we can do unless we invite the guild here, and the council has no plans of doing that.”

“Surely you’ve got your own adventurers?” Arek asked.

“We do, and I think we’ve sent a few of them into the dungeon already, but I don’t know what happened to them.”

“Considering that there are still wyverns flying around, I’d say they failed,” Belmont said, his hands clenched at his sides. “We need to find this council immediately. If they don’t get the dungeon cleared soon, we’re all going to be in grave danger.”

“Are you high-rank adventurers?” the postman asked hopefully.

“We’ll be whatever we need to be to stop the dungeon,” Belmont replied as they rushed out the door.

Malissa slipped the note into her bag as they strode towards a signpost to locate the council.

“How high level is the dungeon at Red Mount?” Arek asked.

“Somewhere in the D- or E-rank area,” Malissa said. “Magus mentioned it in his letter.”

“Why? And did he say anything else useful?”

“He said we should think about trying to challenge it, but he also warned that we shouldn’t try for a few months, and that we needed to get stronger before giving it a shot.”

“A few months?” Ming asked. “How long are we supposed to stay here?”

Arek caught the uneasy look in Malissa’s eyes. “What else did Magus say?” he asked, a pit forming in his gut.

“Not in public,” Malissa said with a firm shake of her head. “We’re going to want to be alone for this.”

“Wonderful,” Belmont said, gritting his teeth. “More bad news.”

They reached a signpost and scanned through it. The arrow pointing to the council was trimmed in metal, which made it stand out from the others. It directed them straight towards the center of the town, so they set off at a hurried pace once again.

The council building was a little more ornate than most of the other structures in Red Mount. It was only a single floor, but it was huge, almost like a covered marketplace. A short staircase led up to a large, open-fronted room with three people—two women and one man—sitting in elevated chairs. They wore simple yet high-quality matching clothing, and each of them had a small red cap.

Murals had been painted over all the walls, and the tiles on the floor were painted with a beautiful depiction of a mountain peeking through the clouds. There were a few people milling about within the room, but there was no line in front of what Arek suspected to be the council.

They climbed the stairs and stepped under the shade of the tall roof. They approached the council members, who were each flanked by an intimating-looking guard wielding a jagged spear.

“Greetings. Travelers?” the man asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. “You might be the first ones in quite some while.”

“It wasn’t an easy trek,” Belmont said, skipping right over the pleasantries. “The forest had monsters in it.”

“We apologize for any difficulties you might have faced while getting here,” the woman on the left said, inclining her head ever so slightly.

“There’s no time for this,” Belmont said irritably. “When is the last time the local dungeon was cleared?”

The council members exchanged a quick glance, their brows lowering in anger.

“Young man, watch your tone,” the woman on the right said. “We may be an open council, but we will not tolerate disrespect.”

“He means no ill,” Malissa said, putting a hand on Belmont’s shoulder. “But he’s right—this is an urgent matter. We overheard that the dungeon hasn’t been cleared in months. If this is true, surely you realize that we’re in danger!”

“Why, I—” the council member on the left started.

“Enough, Lucille,” the man in the middle said, massaging his forehead with a wrinkled hand. “They’re clearly adventurer’s guild members.”

“And we saw what happened the last time one of their groups came through here, Rovin,” the woman on the right said irritably.

“We don’t have time to hold grudges,” Rovin said, narrowing his eyes. He looked back to the Happy Sunflowers. “I’m afraid you’ve come to Red Mount at a bad time. It has indeed been several months since we last cleared the dungeon.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Malissa asked. “Red Mount should have at least a few C-rank adventurers, right?”

“We’ve already sent groups,” Lucille said, drumming her fingers on her leg. “They did not return. The few we have remaining cannot be spared.”

“So send more!” Belmont said, his brow furrowed in anger. “It’s our job as adventurers. You can’t let the dungeon overflow. The city could be destroyed!”

“We’re well aware,” Rovin said. The man pressed his lips together. “But two C-rank teams have already attempted and failed to clear the dungeon. We’ve already sent for an independent B-ranked adventuring team, and they’re on their way here as we speak.”

“Oh,” Belmont said, relaxing slightly. “That’s better. When will they be here? Today? Tomorrow?”

Rovin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “One week.”

“What?” Belmont exclaimed. “A week? The town might be gone by then! Get them here faster! Drop the anti-magic surrounding the city so they can teleport in.”

“We can’t,” the woman on the right said. “The guilds would destroy us just as quickly as the monsters would. We have put more thought into this than you. This is our city, after all. There are simply no further actions we can take but to wait. Our remaining adventuring teams are posted near the wall, preparing to fend off a swarm if the B-ranked team doesn’t arrive soon enough.”

“How many adventuring teams do you have?” Arek asked.

“I fail to see how—”

“Ten,” Rovin said, ignoring the glare the woman to his side gave him. “They’re trapped with us, Valea. They deserve to know. Half of them are C rank, and the remainder are E or F.”

“That isn’t going to be enough to repel a full swarm,” Belmont said, pacing back and forth. “We need to do something. Thin the horde out, at least.”

“Are you offering?” Valea asked, raising a graying eyebrow. “What rank team are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Belmont snapped. “You hardly have the manpower to deal with things as they are. You need every body you can get, and we were strong enough to get up the mountain without help.”

“We could help defend the city if it’s sieged,” Arek offered.

“That would be helpful,” Rovin said, giving them a tight grin. “And… much of the city is aware that we are in danger, but our people are doing their best to avoid panic. Please avoid spreading rumors of the situation.”

“Do they realize how close the dungeon is to overflowing?” Ming asked.

“They are aware of the situation,” Lucille said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Arek grimaced. The fact that the council was actually talking to them instead of having the guards toss them out proved that the situation was dire.

“How long has the dungeon been overflowing?” Belmont asked, his brows knit together in thought.

“Around a week,” Rovin said. “Why? Do you have experience with them?”

“Yes,” Belmont replied, not elaborating further. “I don’t think your team is going to make it. I’ve researched monster hordes extensively, and the dungeons can only handle overflow for a week or so at max. We’re unlikely to have more than a few days before a horde forms.”

The council members nodded grimly.

“We’re aware,” Rovin said. “All the adventuring teams have been informed and they’ve been doing what preparations they can. All we can do is hold until the B-rank team arrives.”

“How much food do you have?” Belmont pressed. “Do you need teams to try and get supplies so we can withstand a siege?”

“We have enough food,” Rovin said. “It would be wiser to remain within the city walls. If you’re unlucky when venturing outside, you might get swarmed by monsters.”

“Good. The best way to survive a monster horde is to route them rather than completely stop them. Have you thought about freeing up areas of the city to surrender after they breach the walls?”

“Not a bad suggestion,” Lucille murmured. “To distract and route them into specific areas to limit civilian and adventurer deaths?”

“Exactly,” Belmont said. “They’ll lose some of their numbers advantage in tight spaces as well.”

“You seem knowledgeable about monster hordes,” Rovin observed. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I had a guard examine you with a Truesight Artifact while we spoke. He’s telepathically informed me that your strength is somewhere around a mid-D-ranking team. How do you know all of this?”

“I’ve lived through a monster horde and seen what it did to a town,” Belmont said. “I’ve been thinking of ways to protect a city from a horde ever since.”

“His suggestions do make sense,” Rovin said, holding up a hand. “What else would you suggest?”

“Traps,” Belmont said. A grim smile stretched across the man’s face, but there was no joy within it. There was only determination and the slightest trace of fear. “Lots of traps.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“And how do you plan to do that?” Lucille asked. “Do you want to turn the streets of Red Mount into a warzone?”

“Yes,” Belmont said. “Better the streets than your homes. A city can be rebuilt, but people cannot.”

The council exchanged glances. Lucille raised her hand and a shimmering blue dome formed over them, blocking the Happy Sunflowers from hearing what they were talking about.

After several minutes of what appeared to be intense debate, Lucille allowed the dome to fade. She didn’t look happy, but the other council members were determined.

“We aren’t in a position to refuse help, no matter who is offering it,” Lucille said. “However, we need some degree of proof of your competence. Do you even know how to fight against these monsters? Or are you simply seeking fame without the ability to back it up?”

“I think we can answer that,” Arek said, glancing at Malissa.

She gave him a grim smile and pulled out the large chunk of meat that they’d carved from the wyrm. Arek nodded at the monster’s horns, which were still sticking out of the corners of his bag.

“We fought them on our way up,” Arek said. “It was annoying, but we didn’t have any serious difficulties. I don’t think we’d have much of a chance in a head-to-head fight against the boss monster, but we should be able to at least stem some of the rabble.”

Rovin rose from his chair, ignoring the protests of the guards as he walked over to the party. He inspected their prizes for a few moments, then gave a curt nod.

“This is a wyrm,” he agreed. “They’re one of the more troublesome monsters in the dungeon, although the wyverns are worse. If you can help us handle these, we’ll have a better chance of holding off until the B-ranked team gets here. We’ve already got teams that’ll fight the monsters, so you can be in charge of these traps.”

“Then we have no time to waste,” Belmont said.

“You’re likely right,” Rovin said as he glanced back at the other council members. “We need to bring all the food towards the center of the city and begin setting up a perimeter to defend. The other teams have already been dispatched, but we’ll need to inform the citizens that they are no longer safe outside our defenses.”

“The food has already been handled,” Valea said. “The city stores its grain in an underground silo directly, and there are runes that can make a barrier around the center of town. It’s not going to hold against a horde, though.”

“That’s good, at least,” Belmont said, rubbing his chin. “Do you have a way to get everyone to the center of the city without causing a stampede? Will the barrier protect everyone?”

“It’s rather large,” Rovin said. “It was meant to withstand a siege from a guild for a few days, and everyone can fit in it. It won’t be comfortable, but we’ll fit.”

“That’ll buy us time, but it won’t last forever,” Valea warned. “Our soldiers posted on the walls will pick off any monsters they can from afar, but they’ve been ordered to avoid engaging in melee combat. We can’t afford to lose any lives at this stage, and the adventuring groups are far more capable than my men are against this kind of threat.”

“It’ll be a death trap outside of the barrier,” Rovin said, pressing his lips together. “The adventuring groups will get overwhelmed by the horde, even with you implementing these new traps.”

“We need to hold off for a week, right?” Arek asked. “Can your barrier hold that long if we all hide inside it?”

Rovin grimaced. “Four days, maybe. Probably not even that.”

“Then we have no choice,” Belmont said, receiving grim nods from the council.

“We thank you for aiding us, even though this isn’t your city,” Rovin said, giving a final nod. “If we survive, your names will join those of the other brave adventurers, adorning our walls for all history.”

“Please remain here for the time being,” Valea said before any of them could move. “The citizens will go into a panic if they realize how bad the situation is. We’ll send out some orders and streamline everything to avoid that.”

“Just make it quick,” Belmont said as the four of them sat down a short distance away from the council.

Rovin started barking out orders to the guards as the other two members headed outside, presumably to start rallying the citizens.

Arek let out a chuckle. “It seems like we really can’t avoid getting into trouble no matter where we go.”

“Except this time, we can’t afford to run away,” Belmont said, his hands clenched.

“Don’t worry, Belmont,” Ming said. “We’ll help save the town. Their soup is too tasty for them to die.”

Belmont nodded absentmindedly. Arek wasn’t certain he’d even heard the words that Ming had said.

“While we wait, maybe you could tell us what Magus’ letter said?” Arek offered, trying to lighten the mood. When he saw Malissa’s grimace, he realized he’d made the wrong call.

Belmont nodded before Arek could retract his statement. “That’s a good idea. Perhaps he’s discovered something about that Howler guild.”

“It really isn’t good news.” Malissa sighed and pulled out the letter. “Magus has been ordered to drop the investigation against the woman that attacked you.”

“What?” Belmont exclaimed. “Why?”

“Let me finish,” Malissa grumbled. She lowered her voice. “He said that he ignored the orders and continued the investigation anyways. Her first name is Lynn, and she works for the Howler guild. The Howlers have apparently taken over the majority of Riverfall with almost no bloodshed. They bought out every merchant in the city, but the adventurer’s guild doesn’t care since they pay their taxes and it’s not technically illegal to buy everything.”

“Shit,” Belmont swore. “So the Howlers have influence on the adventurer’s guild. But what did they want with my magic?”

“Magus answered that, actually,” Malissa said, scanning through the letter and putting her finger on a line of text. “Your shield spell is unique. It blocks both magical and physical attacks, which is apparently atypical. Most shield spells can only block one or the other.”

“That’s good to know,” Belmont said, frowning. “But that hardly seems like a reason to cause such a scene. We’re missing something.”

“Magus said something along the same lines,” Malissa admitted, handing Belmont the letter. “But he doesn’t know what it is yet.”

Belmont grunted, his eyes flickering as he read through the message. “Well, at least there’s some good news.”

“What is it?” Arek asked.

“Magus figured out some more information on the Blessed One business. It’s some sort of curse or blessing—Magus says it can be both—that enhances its owner’s powers. However, anyone that has it is drawn to fight other people with it. The winner of the fights gets a portion of the loser’s powers.”

“So we’ll have people tracking us,” Arek said, massaging his forehead. “But at least we know what it is. Did Magus mention if this Blessed One status is malicious? What’s its purpose?”

“He doesn’t know,” Belmont said after a few more moments of reading. “He said he only found it in an old book, and it barely had any information. Maybe we should try to apprehend the next person that comes after you and Ming instead of killing them.”

“It might be worth a shot,” Arek agreed. “Is there anything else of worth in the letter?”

Belmont shrugged, handing it to Arek. The orc scanned it, but just about everything Magus wrote had already been covered. Arek offered it to Ming, who shook her head. Malissa took it and placed the letter in her extradimensional bag.

“Assuming we manage to fend off the horde, what do we do next?” Arek asked. “It’s not like we can go back to Riverfall anytime soon, especially not with the Howlers hunting us.”

“If we survive, we should head to a nearby city immediately,” Belmont said. “We’d be more than due for another promotion. After that….” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s too far in the future. Our own demise seems a little more imminent.”

“Fair enough,” Arek agreed. The orc didn’t seem particularly bothered by the oncoming monster horde. “I’ve dealt with these things a few too many times. After you survive a few calamitous events, they start to get old.”

“I hope we’ll get to see that for ourselves,” Malissa said, pressing her lips together. “Belmont, you’ve put the most thought into this out of all of us. What kind of traps should we be setting up?”

“Explosives,” Belmont replied. “Anything that slows the monsters should work well, but explosions will be the most effective. Most monsters don’t have enough innate defense to completely withstand flying rock, especially when it’s right next to them. We don’t actually need to kill all the monsters—we just have to slow their initial swarm down.”

“We’re putting a lot of weight on this B-ranked team,” Arek observed. “Are we sure that they’re actually as capable as we think? This isn’t an F-ranked dungeon, after all. A horde of wyrms and wyverns might be too much for them.”

“I suppose we should probably find that out,” Malissa said. Her words were calm, but the stress locked up behind her face was starting to show. “But will that really help? If they’re too weak to stop the horde, we’re all just dead.”

“Information is always useful,” Arek said. “If you can control your emotions, it can only help you. The more we know about the situation, the better we can react to it.”

As they spoke, Valea broke away from the other two council members to approach them.

“You should be able to start your work in a little less than an hour,” she said. “The outer city won’t be completely vacated, but it should be enough to begin. Is there anything you’ll need?”

“There is,” Belmont said. “Do you have a detailed map of the city? Preferably one with all the roads?”

“We can get one,” Valea said, giving the armored man a curt nod.

“Good,” Belmont said. “As soon as my group has that, we’ll get to work. You can’t spare any guards to help us, can you?”

Valea grimaced. “Not if you can do without them. Many of the guards are already outside the walls, trying to thin out the monsters’ ranks together with the other adventurers before they can attack in full. The remainder are stationed on the walls. If we don’t have anyone there, we won’t be able to properly route the horde’s initial attack.”

“That’s fine,” Belmont said after several moments of thought. “We only really have to trap one side of the city, since the other side has a cliff behind it. We can use the tight roads to try and pick off more monsters, although we can’t do much against wyverns or anything that can fly.”

“Whatever you can do will be helpful,” Valea said, her wrinkled skin pallid.

Arek could practically smell the fear wafting off the woman, but she didn’t let the brave face slide for an instant.

“I’ve also got a quick question,” Arek said. “Who’s the B-ranked team coming to help us? Are they going to be able to break a siege?”

“Almost certainly,” Valea replied. “If they arrive, we’ll be saved. The group is one of the top-rated B-rank teams in the kingdom: Avenguard.”

Arek’s eyebrows twitched upwards. He’d heard of them years ago; they had been a competitor to Vell’s group. Evidently, they’d grown. “Do you know who’s on the team?”

“I can get you a list of their names as well, if you think it would help.”

“It would,” Arek said, inclining his head slightly.

“Then I’ll set off to get your map and the list,” Valea said, clenching her hands. “Anything to keep from sitting still. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the anticipation is the worst part.”

She darted away as quickly as her aging body could carry her, leaving the Happy Sunflowers behind with a somber silence.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Malissa broke the silence with a heavy sigh. “Belmont, what are the chances we actually make it through this?”

Belmont didn’t respond immediately. He drummed his gauntleted fingers on his thigh, sending up a series of clinks. “It depends. If the B-ranked team makes it early enough, they might be able to divert a large portion of the attack. All we can do is delay it. If we delay long enough, we’re likely to survive. If we don’t…”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. They only had a few minutes to think over his solemn words. Valea returned shortly after, several papers clutched in her bony hands.

She handed them to Arek, who spread them out on the ground before them. He had to unfold the first paper, which turned out to be a large map of the city. It wasn’t the most detailed, but it gave information about all the roads and the general shape of the city’s layout.

The city seemed to twist as it grew closer to the center, with the buildings nearest to the wall the most spaced out, while those at the center were densely packed together. Belmont leaned over the map, examining it closely while the others inspected the other papers that Valea had given them.

There were four of them, each with a picture of an adventurer’s face on them. There were two women and two men. The two women looked strikingly similar, with the only difference being their hairstyles. Arek recognized all of them aside from one of the men. They were the same people that had competed with him and Vell all those years ago.

“This is their leader, Ox,” Valea said, kneeling and pointing to the first man. His face looked stocky, with a coarse beard and a square face. “He’s an earth mage. The two women are twins—they go by Ash and Ice. Ash uses fire magic, and Ice uses water magic.”

“Creative,” Malissa muttered.

“Who’s this guy?” Arek asked, pointing to the last remaining adventurer. He was pale and thin, with a large wizard’s hat that covered the upper half of his face. Arek was pretty sure that defeated the purpose of a portrait, but high-ranked adventuring teams tended to get what they wanted.

Ming picked his picture up and squinted at the man, the corners of her mouth curling down in a frown.

“It’s Null,” Valea said. “He’s a new member on the team, but it’s very possible that he’ll get promoted to A rank. He’s a very powerful mage.”

“Do you know his real name?” Ming asked, an uncharacteristically grim expression on her face.

“I’m afraid not,” Valea said. “Why? Does it matter?”

“No,” Ming replied, pressing her lips together and putting the paper back down. “I guess not. If they’re this strong, they can probably defend the city once they get here, right?”

“Most likely,” Belmont said, tearing his eyes away from the map. “I recognize several of these adventurers. I didn’t know they were on the same group, but Ox and the twins are strong. They should be able to rout a D- or C-ranked monster horde—we just have to keep the city in one piece until they get here.”

“Then we don’t have any time to waste,” Malissa said. She gathered everything other than the map and offered it back to Valea.

The council member shook her head. “Keep them. We’ve got more than enough.”

“I’ll take them,” Ming said, plucking the papers from Malissa’s grasp and tucking them into her extradimensional bag.

The Happy Sunflowers rose to their feet.

Belmont held the map out in front of him and pointed at a spot near the edge of the wall. “We need to make sure they attack a certain spot. If the walls all go down at once, there won’t be a way for us to stop the horde. If we intentionally weaken part of the wall, it’ll break first. The monsters will funnel through it and we’ll be able to corral them better that way.”

“You want to break our walls?” Valea asked in disbelief.

“They won’t last long anyways, will they?” Belmont replied. “If they aren’t enchanted, the wyrms will destroy them in hours. If we can force everything through a choke point, we can take away their momentum and bait them into thin alleys where they can’t move as well.”

Valea pressed her lips together. “I need to consult with the other council members. Start setting up those traps you talked about in the area where you want to destroy the wall. If Rovin or Lucille accept your proposal, we’ll send guards to help you.”

“Think quickly,” Belmont said. “Time is not on our side. Do you have any enchanters in Red Mount? If so, we’ll need their help to make more traps.”

“I’ll send for them,” Valea said. “They’ll meet you at the wall.”

She turned and walked off towards Rovin and Lucille. The Happy Sunflowers exchanged a glance, then headed out of the council building and made their way towards the wall.

It took them a few minutes to reach it. Several guards stood atop the wall, pacing back and forth nervously. A man armored in the traditional Red Mount style with a short plume on his shoulder spotted them.

He approached them, his eyes cold. “You the adventuring group working with the council? The ones that want to blow up the wall?”

“Yes,” Belmont said. “Is everything ready, and do you have any bombs?”

“As much as things can be,” the guard replied. “We’ve got some enchanted explosives, but they’re not meant for combat. They’re precision charges for mining, so they aren’t meant to fight monsters, but they’re better than nothing.”

Belmont nodded. He pulled out the map that Valea had given them and unfurled it on the ground between them. He knelt, pointing at several spots along the roads near them. “We need to make sure that the monsters come into the tight alleyways. They can’t be too tight, though. If the wyrms can’t fit, they’ll try to find another way. They’ve got to just be big enough for the monsters to fit, but not enough for them have room to maneuver.”

The guard rubbed his chin, examining the map with Belmont. “I suppose that makes sense. But how do we force them to enter the right alleyways? We’re not going to have enough explosives to cover the entire side of the wall. They’ll just end up going around a lot of our traps.”

“That’s what destroying part of the wall would solve,” Belmont replied. “But we can also destroy some buildings to make rubble that can block some of the larger alleys. We don’t want them coming down the Main Street. That’ll be incredibly difficult to defend. We’re around as strong as the wyrms in a one-on-one fight, but we’ll be crushed if there’s a swarm.”

“Hm. I see what you’re getting at,” the man said. He examined the map for a short while longer. Then his face set in stone and he stood up, examining Belmont carefully for a few moments. “I can give you the explosives to set up while my guards and the adventuring teams demolish some structures to block larger streets. Once they’re finished, they’ll head over to defend the small alleyways or retreat to the barrier. Which locations will your team cover?”

“These,” Belmont said, tapping several locations near the edge of the wall.

The guard’s eyebrows rose. “Right next to the wall? Are you sure, son? The horde will hit that the hardest.”

“They’ll hit everywhere hard,” Malissa said, stepping up to stand beside Belmont. “We’ll hold our spots as long as we can.”

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Arek said, nodding. “Not much worse, but worse.”

Ming gave a halfhearted agreement, but she seemed distracted. Her hands were clenched tightly at her sides. If they’d had more time, Arek would have pressed the issue. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

The captain gave them a grim smile. “I pray we’ll all be able to say the same in the future.”

Belmont gave him a curt nod. He folded the map back up and stood. The two men exchanged a glance.

The captain gave Belmont a small nod. “If we make it through this, we’ll need to have a chat. I’d love to know why you’ve put so much thought into withstanding a monster horde. My name is Captain Riggs.”

“Belmont. I’m with the Happy Sunflowers.”

Riggs grabbed a pouch from his waist and tossed it to Belmont. “Extradimensional bag. Bombs are inside it, and I expect it back if we don’t get overrun.”

The captain gave them a curt nod and headed back towards the walls, barking orders at the guards. Belmont returned to the group and reached inside the bag, pulling out a small red ball about the size of his fist. Runes had been carved all along it, and there was a large black dot at the top.

“It’s hard to tell when the dungeon horde will escape,” Belmont said, handing the ball to Malissa and pulling another identical one out. “As I told Riggs, we’ll need to split up. We’ve got to set up these explosives, then get to our designated defense points and hold off the horde as long as possible. I’d ask if we’re all up to it, but…”

“There’s no choice,” Arek finished. “It’s fine, Belmont. We’re not going to let the city fall without a fight. None of us are running away. Just tell us what to do.”

Belmont distributed the rest of the bombs. In the end, each of them got four of the small explosives.

“The explosion will follow the direction of the dot on the top of the ball,” Belmont said, making eye contact with each of them. He turned the ball in his hands over, revealing a small string pasted to the bottom. “Detach the string to arm it. One end will stay connected to the ball. When you pull on the string, it’ll explode. It’s only very lightly connected, so don’t worry about moving the direction of the detonation.”

“Understood,” Arek said. “If we’re arming the other locations, should we just unstick the strings and leave the bombs like that for a guard to find them?”

“That should work,” Belmont said. “Just get them in the right position. The explosives will be helpful, but the most important thing is to funnel the horde into this part of the city and slow them with the alleys. If it gets too thick, back off.”

The other members of the party nodded. Belmont drew a deep breath, then swore. He unfurled the map again.

“Arek, take these four spots,” Belmont said, tapping four locations on the map. “And defend the one closest to the wall.”

Arek quickly memorized the locations Belmont pointed at. Then he tossed the bombs into his travel pack and gave the rest of the group a nod.

“Good luck, everyone,” Arek said. “Don’t die. We’re sure to get a rank up out of this, and it’ll ruin it if one of us doesn’t make it.”

He turned and dashed towards the first of his locations while Belmont told Malissa and Ming where they should go.

The first location that Belmont had indicated was only a few minutes away from where they’d been standing. It was a small side street between two shops that ended in a dead end against the city walls. Arek stepped inside it, pulling one of the bombs free from his bag.

He carefully pulled the string back from the seal, then set the bomb against some rocks a few feet into the alley, pointing the small dot upwards. He nestled the rocks around it to keep the weapon from rolling away, then set off at a brisk pace towards the next location, which was slightly more towards the center of the city.

Arek encountered few other people as he walked. An occasional guard glanced in his direction, but the council had done a fantastic job at evacuating civilians from the danger zone without putting them in harm’s way.

While he walked, he was accompanied by crashes and small explosions from the guards working to destroy the main pathways through the city.

It took a little longer for Arek to find the next location. His memory was decent, but the city wasn’t perfectly linear and there were still two other locations he had to remember. He eventually spotted the alley off a larger street connected to the town square. Arek quickly set up the bomb in a similar manner to the first time.

He moved along once again, setting up both of the remaining bombs as quickly as he could. The more time that passed, the more unease he felt. His skin prickled and his hair stood on end as an invisible, electrified current started to charge the air.

Arek increased his pace as he headed back towards the station that Belmont had told him to protect. Before he could reach it, a loud explosion ripped through the air. Arek’s eyes widened, but no sounds of battle followed it.

“I wonder if that was the guards going with Belmont’s plan, or them just destroying the larger pathways,” Arek wondered aloud to himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

In the short time that he’d been gone, the guards had done good work. The roads had been scattered with giant pieces of debris and houses had been toppled to block off any large paths. Luckily, Arek was small enough to traverse them without much difficulty. It would be a different story for the wyrms. He reached his position and swallowed, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to get his blood flowing. With no enemies to fight, even his battle rage was helpless. He stood beside the unfurled length of string connected to the explosive, his knuckles white.

Arek sat his travel pack down against a building, then leaned back and stared up at the wall. There was nothing left to do but wait.

Time passed by slowly. Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to an hour. Arek was starting to wish that the monsters would just get over it and attack already when the first muted thud rang out through the sky.

It was followed by a cacophony of roars. A wyvern’s scaly form sailed through the sky overhead, propelling itself across the city with its large, bloodshot wings. At the same time, a thrum rippled through the air behind Arek at the center of the city.

A large blue dome melted into existence, shielding the inner city where all the civilians were housed.

“Looks like it’s time,” Arek said, his hands unclenching as the edges of his vision flickered pink at the sight of an enemy.

Something slammed against the city walls. Then it slammed again. And again. A series of thuds like the world’s largest rainstorm thundered against the wall. Arek waited impatiently as the sounds of fighting grew closer to him.

The walls let out a pained groan. The strikes grew more frequent. Arek’s claws started to tingle as the magic felt his anxiety and rose up, begging him to use it.

A thunderous crash tore through the city. A cloud of dust and rubble rose into the air as a part of the wall gave way. Even from where Arek stood, he could hear the thunder of the horde as it rushed into the city. All he could do was hope that the part of the wall that had fallen was the one that Belmont had ordered to be destroyed.

Regardless of where the wall had fallen, Arek could hear the creatures growing closer by the second. He bared his teeth, drawing on the magic within his runes. They lit up, their glow filling the darkening alley as armor crept up Arek’s arm and his guandao formed in his hand.

“Come on then,” Arek growled. “Let’s get this started.”

The horde was eager to oblige them. Like a tide of scales and claws, nearly a dozen of the monsters thundered down the street. Corralled by the destruction that the guards had caused, their beady black eyes locked directly on Arek.

The orc stepped on the explosive and cracked his neck, raising his weapon and pointing it at them.

“Come!” he thundered.

They came. The sea of wyrms leapt into the alley, their teeth gnashing as they all tried to force themselves in at once. The buildings cracked under the weight of their sheer numbers. As enveloped by the battle rage as Arek was, even he felt a moment of fear at their seemingly unstoppable might.

Then the feelings faded, and all that remained was the desire to fight. One of the creatures wiggled forward, dashing past the rest of the pack, and the others charged in after it. Arek pressed his foot into the string and pulled backwards, ripping it free of the bomb and detonating it with a loud bang.

A small pillar of fire rose up as parts of the lead wyrm were thrown into the air from the force of the explosion.

Arek didn’t wait for the horde to recover. With the force of the wyverns’ bodies pressing in on them from behind, the orc stepped forward and thrust his guandao into the smoking pile of flesh, ensuring that the wyvern was dead. He felt his weapon strike hard scales and skirt to the side before finding purchase and sinking deep into the creature’s body.

He ripped it free, then continued pressing his advantage and thrusting it back out before him. A wyrm let out a scream of pain, but the wall of scale and flesh was slowly pressing towards him. Arek’s blade flashed as he struck out at their eyes and mouths. In the enclosed quarters of the alley, the monsters put up much less of a fight than he’d expected.

With no way to easily dodge to the side or backwards, Arek’s guandao found purchase more often than it didn’t. Blood and green light flashed around him as he kept them at arm’s length, slowly backing down the alley and keeping out of range of the creature’s claws.

The world blurred as Arek lost himself in the thrum of the fight. The smell of coppery blood filled the air as he slaughtered them, but still he was pushed back. The dead end grew closer and closer to his back. Meanwhile, the wyrms simply squeezed themselves over the bodies of their fallen brothers, closing in on Arek with every passing second.

A quick glance over his shoulder almost cost Arek an arm as one of the wyrms lashed out and nearly took a huge bite out of him. He gritted his teeth. The end of the alley was getting close. Sweat trickled down Arek’s forehead as he slammed a wyrm’s face with the flat of his blade, then thrust it through the creature’s eye.

The runes on his claws tingled. The creatures grew closer. Arek’s breathing grew heavier. He could hear his heart, could feel each individual pump like a drum in his ears. His blade took the lives of dozens of the creatures, but the horde simply piled higher and higher.

Despite the heat of the day and the sweat pouring down his skin, Arek shivered. There were only a few more minutes before the wyrms would have his back to the wall, and then the end was inevitable. He couldn’t even spare a thought for his teammates and how they might be faring.

All throughout the city, explosions and cries rang out amid the cacophony of roars. Arek’s vision flared, a familiar rage kindling at the bottom of his heart. He resisted it for a moment, but then, almost reluctantly, allowed it to come forth.

The magic in his claws flared. Curls of energy wrapped up his other arm and traveled down his chest. They twisted around his legs and head, growing denser and denser as the magic enveloped him. Thick green plates of armor formed over his body. A helmet slammed shut over his face, blocking out all but his eyes, which had started to glow with dull red light.

Sparks of green lightning crackled down Arek’s guandao as he fully released his magic for the first time since he’d been known as Warchief. However, it didn’t stop. Designs carved themselves into his armor, all glowing with the same red light that filled his eyes.

A wave of force ripped out from Arek, rebutting the horde momentarily. For the merest flicker of an instant, a new emotion passed through the wyrms’ eyes. It was not the rage or hunger that typically characterized them—it was fear.

Unfortunately, the horde pressed forward regardless of the desires of the creatures at the front. Like a tidal wave of silvery flesh, it pressed down on Arek. And he pressed back.

His guandao carved a shimmering path of green light through the air as he swept it in a wide swing that sliced through two wyrms in a single blow. Their scales, previously almost entirely resistant to his power, shattered under the strength of his strike.

Arek didn’t pause to wonder at his new strength. He rushed forward, spinning the weapon into a circle of destruction, and started to take ground back from the wyrms.

If he’d been killing them before, he was slaughtering them now. Blood turned into a fine mist around the orc as he burrowed into their ranks, tearing through anything that stood in his way. A ragged laugh escaped his throat at the bloodlust enveloping him like a protective cloak.

Inch by inch, Arek started to press back on them. He regained a step. Then another. And another. Even as the monsters pressed down on him, he pressed back. He was gaining ground.

The building to his side cracked. A moment later, the crack grew larger. Arek threw himself backwards just in time to avoid the wyrm that burst through the wall, crashing against the other side of the alley with a snarl of fury.

Wyrms pressed through the new entrance to the alley, filling it faster than Arek could kill them. Even with his new strength, he was no longer fighting a one-on-one battle.

Their strikes started to land against his armor with scrapes of teeth and claws on crackling metal. Arek was pressed back faster than ever before as he shifted to a defensive stance, trying to keep the monsters back as best as he could.

It was fruitless. Within moments, his back was pressed against the end of the alley. Arek gritted his teeth as he thrust his guandao into the nearest wyrm, wounding it in the shoulder. A draconic head came over its shoulders, slamming against his chest violently. The wyrms had started to climb on top of each other to reach him.

With a curse, Arek leapt as high as he could, narrowly avoiding another attack and grasping the ledge of a house. He pulled himself onto the sloped roof and ran, searching for a more defensible position as the cries of the horde followed after him.

Arek bounded across the rooftops, crackles of green energy hissing and popping in a trail behind him. The streets below him were a disturbing sight. Teeming masses of wyrms filled every bit of open space. Many were dead, but an uncountable amount of them still lived.

All across the city, small explosions and magical blasts flashed in the sky. The sun had started to set beneath a thick bank of clouds, casting the day in purple and orange hues. Wyverns dotted the sky, occasionally swooping down towards a larger pocket of resistance.

The smell of ash and fire mixed with blood filled Arek’s nostrils. If they city managed to survive, it would have a lot of rebuilding in front of it.

Arek idly thrust his guandao down into the head of a wyrm that tried to snap up at him, killing it. The blow didn’t even interrupt his momentum. A wyrm wheeled in the sky above him. The orc’s eyes narrowed and he scanned the city, locating a larger building with a flat roof that had probably been a market of sorts.

He bounded over to it, barely avoiding a wyrm that snapped up at his legs. Arek pounded his chest and pointed the guandao up at the monster in a clear challenge. Wyverns weren’t as intelligent as many other monsters, but it was smart enough to recognize the motion.

The beast tucked its wings in and swooped down at him with a loud screech. Arek braced himself, then thrust his weapon towards the creature as it grew close. It pulled away at the last second and lashed out at Arek with a claw.

Arek took the strike on his shoulder, where it slammed into an armored plate but failed to penetrate it. He stepped forward, driving the guandao into the wyvern’s side. It let out a roar and threw its body into him, knocking him back and forcing him to lose his grip on the shaft of his weapon.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Arek asked, breathing heavily.

His claws shimmered and he raised his hand. The guandao ripped free of the wyvern’s hide in a spray of blood. It tumbled through the air and slammed into his palm. He spun it and lowered back into a fighting stance.

The wyvern turned and bounded towards the edge of the building, its wings unfurling as it tried to take flight.

“I don’t think so,” Arek snarled, rearing back and hurling the weapon at its back.

The tip of the blade punched through the back of the wyvern’s head, killing it in a single blow. His claws crackled again and the weapon ripped itself free, flying through the air and back into his hands as the wyvern’s corpse tumbled off the edge of the building and into the crowd of monsters below it.

Nothing new emerged to attack him. Arek took the moment of reprieve to glance at his weapon, a hint of worry breaking through the battle rage. He’d never been able to control his weapon like that before. The magic crackling through his veins felt like liquid lava, and the new designs on his armor concerned him.

Arek shook his head. He didn’t have time to think about the future consequences of using this much magic. Worry was a luxury that nobody in Red Mount was able to afford.

The crowd of monsters a short distance from Arek’s side erupted in a blast of green energy. The orc spun, his eyes narrowing as a large man leapt out from the center of the horde. He slammed into the roof of a nearby building, coils of slippery-looking magic twisting around him like snakes.

He wore light, silken clothing that looked traditional to Red Mount. His tanned skin was covered with blood and gore, but the man’s eyes were locked with Arek’s.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Another Blessed One,” Arek growled, his chest tightening. He licked his lips. Something seemed to take control of his battle rage, twisting and redirecting it against his will. The green energy surrounding him sizzled eagerly. It took all of Arek’s strength to keep himself from leaping at the man. “If you don’t want to fight, you should leave. I can’t control myself in this state. We need to defeat the monster horde—there’s no time for this.”

“Hm. I have no particular care for Red Mount,” the man said. His voice was elegant and contained notes of confidence that only came from great power or wealth, but it was tinged with the same strain that Arek felt. “There’s been an uptick of new Blessed. I can’t very well pass up on so much free power. The horde can wait—not that we’ve got a choice.”

“You’re a fool,” Arek forced out, but the thrum of the battle rage was ringing louder and louder in his ears.

His will gave way. The red light emitting from his eyes grew brighter. The stone roof under Arek’s feet cracked as he leapt forwards, bounding forward and leaping over the horde of wyrms.

He slammed into the building the other Blessed One stood on, obliterating the wall and stumbling inside a small dining room. Arek spun, bringing his guandao up as the man walked into the room.

The energy around his arms expanded, turning into a long, thin sword. The man took hold of it and lowered into a fighting stance, gesturing for Arek to make the first move with his other hand.

Arek hurled the guandao at him. The man slipped to the side and it passed over his shoulder, disappearing through the hole in the wall and into the crowd of wyrms below them.

“Foolish. You shouldn’t throw your weap—”

The hilt of the guandao slammed into the man’s shoulder, spinning him in a circle as it flew back into Arek’s hands. The man caught his balance and raised his sword just before Arek swung at him again. A loud clang rang out as the two weapons connected. The man skidded back a foot.

Whoever the man was, he was strong. He’d blocked Arek’s strike with a sword held in a single hand.

“Who are you? What do you know about becoming Blessed?” Arek growled, pressing back against the battle rage to force the words out.

“You may call me Vint,” he replied, thrusting his sword towards Arek’s chest.

The orc knocked the strike away with the hilt of his guandao. Vint hopped back to avoid the brutal swing that Arek retaliated with. The heavy weapon thundered into the floor, putting a large hole through the wood.

The two of them circled around each other, their weapons at the ready. Arek adjusted his grip on the guandao, shifting it to one hand and raising the other before him. With his other hand, he pulled his Truesight Artifact out and examined the man. He doubted Vint was about to complain to the law if he didn’t ask for permission first.

Vint

Male Human, Age 31

Magical affinity: Energy Manipulation

Magical power: 95th Percentile

Magical energy: 30th Percentile

Physical power: 72nd Percentile: Karma: 1,302

C-Rank Adventurer

Guild: None

“What do you have to gain from this?” Arek asked. “Why are you at Red Mount? You don’t seem like an indiscriminate killer.”

“Food and sightseeing,” Vint replied. “Finding you was a pleasant surprise. I only kill when something worthwhile is at stake.”

Arek paused. Vint took that moment to slash his sword through the air. An arc of energy ripped free from the weapon, carving through the space between them. It clashed with Arek’s armor with a loud hiss.

The energy created a large crack in his chest plate, but it dissipated before it could do any damage to the orc. Arek bared his teeth behind his faceplate. His foot crashed into the ground and he blurred forward, striking Vint with his open palm.

When Vint staggered back, Arek brought the hilt of the guandao upwards, driving it straight between the man’s legs. His eyes widened and he doubled over, but he turned the motion into a roll. Instead of striking his head, the blade of the weapon cut a thin line across Vint’s arm. The air rang with the sound of metal on metal. Instead of blood, green light shimmered beneath Vint’s skin. It looked like some sort of armor.

“This is stupid,” Arek growled. “We don’t have time to fight each other. The city is being destroyed at our feet.”

“Walk away first, then,” Vint hissed. “I’d like to see you try. Such is the price of our power.”

He was right. Despite his words, Arek’s battle rage had a target, and it had no plans of releasing him. The desire to drive his blade through Vint’s chest thrummed through Arek’s body like an irresistible command. It was all he could do just to talk. There was no way he could turn around and leave. Whatever the green energy was, it had both of them firmly in their grip.

“Then we’ll need to finish this quickly,” Arek said, adjusting his stance to hold the guandao with both hands. One-handed blows clearly wouldn’t be strong enough to break through whatever Vint had beneath his skin. “The city needs at least one of us. I assume you’ll do your part to protect it if you win?”

“I’ll kill any monsters in my way,” Vint replied. The hilt of his sword expanded, and he shifted his own stance, grabbing the weapon with both hands.

They leapt at each other. A shockwave of green energy rang out when their weapons connected, tossing both of them backwards several steps. Arek reared back and hurled the guandao towards Vint. The man’s sword flicked up, knocking it to the side.

Arek yanked the weapon back. Vint leapt at him at the same time. The orc raised an arm, catching the sword strike on his armored shoulder while he grabbed the guandao with his other hand. He twisted, tossing Vint to the side and swinging his weapon at the other Blessed.

Vint spun midair, ripping his weapon free of Arek’s shoulder just in time to block the heavy weapon. The force of the strike sent him flying into the dining table. Arek glanced at his shoulder, but it didn’t look like Vint’s attack had penetrated his defenses.

A loud screech split the air. Arek turned just as a wyvern crashed through the hole he’d made in the house’s walls with a spray of debris. It lashed out, snapping at Arek. The orc leapt back, then slammed a fist into the creature’s nose as hard as he could.

It let out an aggravated hiss and pulled back, but the beast was so large that it took up half of the room. There weren’t many places it could retreat to.

Vint rolled to his feet, his sword flashing as it carved through the wyvern’s extended wing. It let out a scream of pain and turned to look at him. Arek brought his guandao down across the monster’s long neck, severing its head.

It crumpled to the floor. The two of them turned, raising their weapons and eyeing each other now that the distraction had been removed.

Arek stomped the ground as hard as he could. The wood crumbled beneath the force of the strike and he fell to the floor below, directly on top of a wyrm that had forced its way into the house. He offed the monster with a strike from his glowing weapon, then jumped out of the way as Vint’s sword flickered past him.

Vint dropped down an instant later, pulling his weapon free of the ground before taking several hops back to put distance between himself and Arek.

“You threw your weapon,” Arek observed.

Vint just grunted. He flicked his sword, sending an arc of glowing energy flying at Arek. The orc threw himself to the side as the green blade sliced through the wall of the house and into the wyrms behind it.

Several of the creatures burst through the wall, salivating at the sight of the two targets before them.

“Get out of my way,” Vint snarled.

He dashed forwards, his sword turning one of them into mincemeat. Arek drove the tip of his guandao through the front of another’s chest, puncturing its heart before ripping it free in a spray of blood.

“Not the ideal location to try to kill each other,” Arek said, a chuckle escaping the grip of his battle rage.

The wall shuddered as the horde pressed in on them. Vint grunted in agreement.

The walls of the house shuddered again. Cracks spiderwebbed through them and dust rained down from the ceiling. Arek coughed as some of it got into his lungs. He waved his hand in the air to try to clear it.

Luckily, Vint had gotten the same treatment. A wyrm burst through the wall, but Arek killed the creature before it could even snap at him. The house rumbled again. The dust had started to fall in such thick sheets that it was nearly a smokescreen.

The green light enveloping Arek flickered, dimming slightly. He blinked as the strange rage that had been controlling him for the past few minutes faded back into his normal anger.

“It’s based on sight!” Arek exclaimed. “Vint, stay in the dust! We don’t have to fight as long as we can’t see each other!”

“I’ve gathered. Don’t get me wrong. We will be fighting. I have no plans of giving up an increase in power, but now isn’t the time. I’m heading eastward. Don’t follow me.”

There was another crash as something destroyed the wall on the other side of the room. The house let out a groan. Arek turned and sprinted the other way, putting yet another hole in the poor wall as he slammed through it and into the horde of wyrms.

Behind him, the house finally lost its struggle. It collapsed to the ground in a cloud of dust and smoke, burying several of the overly eager wyrms that had tried to get inside.

Arek leapt off the back of one of the silver-scaled monsters, stabbing it in the back of the neck as he used it to jump onto another roof and pull himself up. He dashed along the rooftops towards the large glowing dome at the center of the city, the screams and roars of the horde hot at his tail.

As he grew closer to the rest of the resistance, the horde seemed to thin out. Monsters were still everywhere, but there were more corpses than living enemies. Among the dead creatures, Arek spotted several guards and more than a few adventurers. He tried not to look too closely as he ran.

Of course, he doubted victory would be this easy. The monsters had gotten bogged down in the outskirts of the city and were busy fighting both the guards and each other, but they’d eventually press forward as they ran out of things to attack.

A shadow in the corner of Arek’s eye was the only warning he got as a wyvern swooped down above him. Its claws raked against his armor, tearing through it and leaving several weeping wounds on the orc’s back.

The force of the blow threw Arek forward, tossing him off the building. He lost his grip on the guandao and hit the ground in a roll, rising back up to his feet and spinning with a snarl on his face. The wyvern let out a victorious screech from the air above him and circled around to make another dive.

Arek’s weapon leapt back into his hand as the monster dropped towards him. Its eyes widened and it extended its wings, trying to pull away, but it was moving too fast. Arek’s muscles bunched as he reared back and hurled the guandao through the air like a javelin.

It punched through the wyvern’s shoulder and buried itself deep into the creature’s chest. Arek dodged to the side as it slammed into the ground, its piteous cry ending abruptly on impact. The guandao ripped itself free of the creature’s chest and flew back into Arek’s hands.

He grimaced at the hot lines of pain in his back, then broke back into a jog. Waiting around alone was a good way to get swarmed by the wyrms. A man screamed from somewhere to Arek’s right. The orc paused, then turned and ran towards the sound, raising his weapon.

A large semicircle of wyrms, several monsters thick, had formed around a group of adventurers that had been backed against a dead end. Three of them stood defensively over a fourth, who had been propped up against the wall. The guard sat in a pool of blood, their arms hanging limply at their side.

Several of the creatures lay dead at their feet, and more had been piled up in an alley beside them. The guards had clearly been doing well until they got surrounded.

One of the wyrms snaked forward, snapping at the nearest guard. He slammed his sword into the creature’s head, forcing it back but failing to break its armor.

Arek’s guandao rectified the situation as it sprouted from the creature’s head. The wyrm collapsed to the ground as the weapon flew back to the orc, who let out a loud roar and charged towards the monsters.

Several of them turned towards him, but the rest were too focused on what looked to be an easy meal before them. It didn’t make any real difference, but it certainly made everything a little easier for Arek.

He adjusted his grip on the guandao, holding it by the lower part of the hilt with both of his hands and swinging it in wide arcs like he was cutting weeds. The crackling blade tore through the wyrms like nothing was there.

Arek spun the weapon in a deadly dance of blood and magic as he carved through the monsters. His armor crackled and sparked when a few of the wyrms managed to land strikes on him, but he was like an unstoppable wall of fury and death.

The blood pumped in Arek’s ears with every strike, a war march that only he could hear. Within minutes, the ring of monsters lay dead at his feet.

“Come on,” Arek growled, ignoring their shocked expressions. “They’re coming. We can’t stand around. Can your friend move?”

One of the men knelt beside their wounded comrade. The man shook his head weakly.

“Lost too much blood,” he wheezed. “Just go.”

Arek’s consciousness pressed against the battle rage, forcing it down. The red light in his eyes faded slightly.

“We won’t be having that,” Arek said, his voice less gruff than it had been a moment ago. He strode forward and lifted the wounded man over his shoulder. “We don’t have bodies to spare. Let’s get moving.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The men obediently fell in behind Arek as he led the charge out of the alley, cutting down any stray wyrms that headed in their direction. The orc batted a beast out of the way with his shoulder and thrust his guandao into its chest. He could feel his movements start to slow down as weariness set in. He had to keep the wounded guard out of harm’s way while fighting any of the beasts that grew close.

“We need to find the rest of the guards outside the circle,” Arek said. “If we’re alone for much longer, the wyrms will overrun us.”

“There should be a larger group to the east,” one of the guards said in between gasps of air. “The guard captain was gathering people there. He sent us out to find Tev, the man you’re carrying.”

Arek glanced in the direction that the other man had indicated. There were wyrms in the street, but not as many as other locations in the city. The orc adjusted his grip on the guandao, holding it in his right hand while keeping the bleeding guard steady with his left.

“Then east we shall go,” Arek said. “Do not fall behind.”

He charged down the street, weaving past broken buildings and debris. Wyrms turned as they grew closer, baring their teeth. Arek used his body as a shield, catching their blows on his armor while returning strikes with his guandao. His armor gathered new scars as more and more of the wyrms’ attacks got through his defenses and cut into his skin.

Arek didn’t slow for a second. His weapon let out a dull hum as it spun through the air, dissecting any monsters foolish enough to get within his reach. The men took up positions alongside Arek, keeping the wyrms from flanking them as they pressed through the thinning horde towards what Arek hoped would be safety.

“Down this alley!” one of them yelled. “I think I can see barricades!”

Arek turned, finishing off the wyrm before him. The alley was small, not even large enough to fit a single wyrm. A hastily constructed barricade made of parts of houses and city signs had been erected at the far side.

The wyrms had gathered from all the violence and were starting to press towards them en masse.

“Go!” Arek ordered, passing the wounded man to the guards. “I’ll finish this group off and join you.”

They didn’t have time to argue. The adventurers ran down the alley as fast as they could while Arek transferred his weapon to both hands and shifted his stance. If the wyrms all rushed the alley at once, they might break the surrounding buildings, which would weaken the barricade.

Arek hurled the guandao. It punched through a monster’s head, pinning it against another one’s side. It ripped free and Arek charged towards them, grabbing the shaft midair and killing the second wyrm before it could even scream.

The rest of the wyrms surged towards Arek. He spun, his guandao flashing in the fading light as it carved through flesh and scale. Blood splattered his helm and made the ground beneath him slippery. His breath was getting harder and harder to catch.

Arek narrowly avoided a claw that would have gone clean through his chest. He slashed at the wyrm’s face. It recoiled with a hiss of pain and Arek thrust the guandao through its chest. The remaining wyrms watched him warily, their primitive minds finally registering the smell of blood and death that had thoroughly soaked into the orc.

“What, is that it?” Arek growled, keeping the pain from his numerous wounds out of his voice. He didn’t even want to think what kind of diseases he could get from the wyrm blood mixing with his own.

The wyrms didn’t move forward. Their numbers had been slightly reduced, but it wouldn’t be long until new ones arrived. Arek turned and dashed down the alley towards the barricade. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran.

Some of the wyrms were watching him leave, but the rest had just started cannibalizing the ones he’d already slain. Arek’s lip curled in disgust.

Arek slipped through the gaps in the defenses, his chest still rising and falling heavily. The barricade had been erected around the town square, several blocks away from the beginning of the blue shield. Several dozen guards paced their makeshift walls, their weapons drawn and expressions tight.

The group of adventurers that Arek had escorted stood in the center of the square around the wounded man. Belmont knelt beside him, a pink glow emanating from his staff and flowing over the guard.

Arek let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face. He walked towards them, his armor clanking and squelching against the ground.

Belmont glanced up and narrowed his eyes. He rose to his feet and pointed the staff at Arek. “Arek?”

“It’s me,” Arek growled. His voice was still gravelly from the battle rage, but exhaustion and his wounds had started to drain it. Now that there were no enemies in sight, the red had turned to a faint pink.

“You’ve never used full armor before. You look like Warch—oh. You’ve used the full extent of your magic, have you?”

Arek replied with a curt nod.

“Are you still in full control?” Belmont asked carefully.

“I believe so,” Arek replied. He cut his connection to the magic, allowing it to fade. The armor melted away and his weapon exploded into motes of light that flew back into his claws. Arek staggered as the weight of his wounds seemed to double.

Belmont took a step forward, his staff lighting up when he touched it to Arek’s chest. The orc let out a sigh of relief as his wounds stitched themselves shut. The heavy weariness that had settled over him showed no signs of fading, but at least he wasn’t aerating his guts anymore.

“Thank you,” Arek said, wiping the blood away from his face in disgust. “What’s the situation?”

“Not good,” Belmont said, slowly lowering his staff. “But it could be worse. I’ll fill you in.”

Belmont was right. The situation was bad. Ming and Malissa were still missing, as were over half of the city’s guards and several of the adventuring teams. The monster horde had been slowed by the defenses, but by no means had it been stopped. The outer ring of the city had been completely overwhelmed, and the walls were slowly falling. Luckily, Belmont’s strategy and the bravery of the men still fighting on the frontlines had stemmed the flow of intruders into the city.

They’d killed hundreds of the creatures within the first few minutes and, according to the surviving guards, dozens more had fallen in the city streets. The horde had slowed its advance as it demolished the outer edges of the city. As far as the guards could tell, the wyrms stopped to devour any of their fallen brethren and any edible matter in the area before pressing forward.

At the current rate, Belmont estimated that they’d be able to keep the horde away from the city’s shield for two days. The council had mentioned the shield would last between three and four days, which meant they’d come up short of the B-ranked team by one or two days. Once Belmont had finished, Arek filled the man in about his meeting with the other Blessed One, and how he’d discovered that the magic only forced them to fight if they could see each other.

The air was so tense that Arek could have cut it with his cleaver. It had taken Belmont a few minutes to bring him completely up to speed. He’d caught his breath, but a heavy blanket of weariness still hung over him like a weighted cloak.

“What about Captain Riggs?” Arek asked, breaking the short moment of silence.

“He went out with a group of ten guards to find any guards that survived the initial onslaught,” Belmont said. “He used to be a C-ranked adventurer, so he should be better off than some.”

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Arek agreed, “as will Malissa and Ming. If anything, we just need to make sure Ming has enough food to eat.”

A tiny grin flickered across Belmont’s face before fading. “I was hoping you could take care of that. That armor of yours looked pretty intimidating. At your full strength, how do you match up to the horde?”

“Pretty well,” Arek admitted. “The wyrms aren’t much of a match for me. The wyverns are a little troublesome, but I can handle them as well. That’s just one on one, though. If there are enough wyrms or multiple wyverns, I would have to run.”

Belmont drummed his fingers on his thigh in a series of clinks. “Then you’ve got a better chance against the horde than most of the guards. Most of them struggle to hold off a single wyrm. Arek, can you go look for Ming and Malissa? I’d go with you, but—”

“You’re needed here,” Arek finished, nodding. “Especially without the captain, you’re the only one who’s got any experience against a horde. The city can’t afford you spending time hunting for your teammates.”

“I can’t let another city fall to a horde,” Belmont said.

His armor scraped against itself as his fists clenched. For an instant, his façade cracked and Arek saw the fear and worry in the man’s eyes. Then his face went blank again.

“I’ll find them,” Arek promised. He shrugged his travel pack off his shoulders and tossed it onto the ground before Belmont. “Take care of this. I don’t want to lose it in the fight.”

Belmont gave Arek a grim nod. “Thank you, Arek. And… if one of them is dea—” His voice caught in his throat. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “Just… don’t tell me until the fight is over. I can’t afford to lose my composure.”

“They’ll be fine,” Arek said. “Don’t forget who we’re talking about.”

“Right,” Belmont said, blinking furiously. He pulled his map out and unfurled it. It had gotten stained with droplets of blood and several spots were torn, but it was still readable. Belmont tapped two locations that were relatively close to the wall. “This is where Malissa and Ming should have been. There’s no way they’re still there now—the horde’s overrun that area. But that’s the direction you’ll want to start with.”

“Understood,” Arek said.

“Good luck, Arek.”

“And to you as well.” He gave Belmont a single nod and headed towards the barricade. His runes shimmered as he drew on his magic once again, channeling it up through his arms and across his body.

Glowing armor reformed around Arek, once again green and untarnished by blood. His faceplate slammed shut and his eyes lit with a red glow as the energy started to crackle. Arek extended his hand, and the guandao melted into being within his fist.

He strode down the alley, his steps growing longer until he was running. The blood pumped in his ears and his vision turned red as a few straggling wyrms came into view at the far end of the small street. Arek crossed the distance between himself and the closest monster in two steps, thrusting the shimmering green weapon straight through it and into the wall.

The wyvern slumped as Arek ripped his guandao free. He stepped onto its back and pulled himself onto a roof, ignoring the other monsters making their way towards him.

He mentally reviewed the map that Belmont had given him. Malissa should have been a little closer than Ming. He set off in a dash across the thin roofing, knowing every second that passed could be someone’s last.

As Arek approached the city’s fallen walls, the horde grew so thick beneath him that it looked like a silver ocean. Surprisingly, there seemed to be fewer wyverns in the sky than before. He didn’t think that the guards had managed to finish the creatures off yet, so he dreaded to think what they might be up to.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have the attention span to try to spot the creatures. Wyrms surrounded him in every direction, tearing into and demolishing buildings left and right. Arek caught glimpses of what might had been guards at one point, but they were all long gone. And, for better or for worse, there was still no trace of Malissa or Ming.

A screech tore through the sky overhead. Arek looked up as a wyvern dropped down towards him, its claws outstretched and mouth wide open. He launched the guandao through the air and leapt to a nearby roof, crashing through the wooden wall. The weapon pierced the monster’s chest right before it slammed into the ground, burying the weapon deeper within itself.

Arek extended his hand, but the guandao didn’t fly back into it. It was buried beneath the wyvern’s body. His eyes narrowed and the runes on his claws flared brighter. The guandao erupted from the wyvern’s back in a flower of blood and bone. It slammed back into his hand and the orc spun, setting off at a sprint before the horde could start swarming his location.

He ran for several more minutes, systematically covering as much of the city as he could while avoiding the horde. He slew several more wyrms that grew too close as he ran, but he did his best to avoid the sea of silver. If they managed to pile over him, his armor wouldn’t be much help.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

A series of explosions echoed through an alley several streets away from the crumbling house that Arek currently stood on. He spun. It was hard to be certain, but they sounded similar to Ming’s new spell.

Wood cracked under Arek’s feet as he abruptly changed course, bounding towards the sound of the noise. Even if it wasn’t Ming, fighting meant more guards that needed his help.

In the end, it wasn’t the noise that led him to the resistance but the horde itself. Dozens of wyrms from the endless river of snarling monsters branched off down a smaller path. The scent of blood seemed stronger down the path.

The buildings along the path had been completely wrecked, although they were so full of large debris that they were still largely impassable for the horde. Unfortunately, that also meant that Arek had fewer roofs to run across.

“Might as well start somewhere,” Arek growled to himself, his battle rage flaring brighter. His eyes lit with a red glow once again and he hurled himself forwards, over the majority of the swarm and into the alley.

The orc landed on a wyrm’s back with enough momentum to force it to the ground. He brought his weapon down through its skull before the creature could respond, then leapt to the next creature’s back.

He couldn’t afford to spend any time fighting in one spot or the monsters would swarm over him. Instead, he dashed from one to the next, occasionally throwing his spear out and killing the creatures that tried to snap at him.

Arek was vividly aware that adrenaline would only take him so far. Even though Belmont had healed his wounds, he’d done nothing for the exhaustion. There was only so much fighting he could do in a day. And, unlike Ming, he couldn’t just refuel by eating.

Another explosion tore through the sky. A blast of crackling blue energy tore out from the window of a shop at the far end of the alley. Arek dashed across the backs of the wyrms towards it. He leapt onto the roof instead of walking in the front door to avoid getting blasted.

Arek threw himself through the wall, tearing the wood like paper. He momentarily found himself thankful that the wyrms were too stupid to just demolish the buildings by trampling them, then stomped the ground.

The wood cracked and he fell through, crushing a table beneath him. To Arek’s delight, Ming stood several feet before him, facing the door. She had the smoldering carcass of a wyrm propped against the entrance, blocking it from the rest of the horde. A huge bag sat by her side, and her bundle of staves was open on the ground behind her.

“Arek?” Ming asked, pulling the bone from a chicken leg out of her mouth and tossing it to the side.

She reached inside the bag and pulled out a fistful of what had likely once been a sandwich. She stuffed it into her mouth with one hand while pointing her staff through the gap between the wyrm corpse and the door with her other.

Pure magic gathered at the tip of the weapon. A dozen motes of blue light launched out from it, detonating in rapid succession. The shockwave was so strong that Arek felt it from where he stood.

“You don’t look too worried,” Arek observed, repressing his battle rage and lifting the visor of his helmet. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I raided all the restaurants I could while I was setting up.” Ming nodded at the sack at her feet. Despite her words, Ming’s brow was knit and her knuckles were white around her staff.

Arek couldn’t recall her being this concerned, even when they’d been trapped inside the fish man dungeon with no apparent way of escape. His eyes narrowed.

“Who did you recognize in that B-ranked team?” Arek asked.

Ming jerked her head to the side to stare at him. “What?”

“You saw something that’s seriously bothering you,” Arek said. “And I don’t think it’s the monster horde. I’ve never seen you this worried about a fight.”

Ming pointed her staff again, launching a blast of pure magic with enough force to nearly knock the weapon from her hands.

“If there’s something dangerous, you can tell us,” Arek said, stepping towards her. “We’re a group, Ming.”

“I know,” Ming said, her words terse. “It’s not dangerous. Not to you, anyways.”

“But it is to you?”

“Not really,” Ming said. “But… I think I recognized one of the people in the team.”

“Which one?” Arek asked. “I know most of them, at least on a superficial level. They should be able to save the city. They’re no heroes, but they’re strong adventurers.”

“It’s not that,” Ming said, shaking her head. She wiped her free hand off on her clothing and then reached into her bag, pulling out a paper and handing it to Arek.

“Null? The new member?” Arek asked.

“Yeah,” Ming replied, her tone ice cold. “He’s my brother.”

“Your brother?” Arek asked, his battle rage almost fading from the surprise. “The one that joined the guild and…”

“Abandoned me after I left my house to take care of him,” Ming finished, her eyes unreadable. “Yes, that one.”

“Ah,” Arek said intelligently. A wyrm roared from outside and thrust its head through the small gap. Arek decapitated it with his guandao, still frowning. “How bad of terms are you on with him? Do we need to prepare a quick escape after the siege is over? B-ranked mages are powerful, but they’re still human.”

“I don’t want to kill him,” Ming said, a smile cracking her sullen expression. “At least, not myself. And that extends to you guys too. He’s a traitorous asshole, but we’ve all already got enough to deal with. We don’t need to add an extra sin to our plates. Especially you, Arek.”

“Some sins are worth it. But I’ve got no desire to kill anyone either. Frankly, I’ve just never seen you this unhappy. I don’t think the horde is what’s bothering you, so this asshole is clearly the issue.”

Ming cocked her head slightly to the side, watching Arek. Then she extended her staff out the door, sending a series of explosions through the air as pure magic crashed through the monster horde. The force of the spell was much stronger than the one she’d cast the first time they’d fought a wyrm. Instead of charring skin, the explosions snapped bones and sent flesh flying.

The small mage grabbed a pie from the bag and took a large bite out of it, ignoring the juice that dripped down her chin and onto her clothing.

“You really mean that, don’t you?” Ming asked, blinking. “You’d kill someone just because he made me unhappy?”

“I’ve done worse,” Arek replied, shrugging. “And I’d do the same for any of you. Anyone that caused you that much pain is probably a detriment to society anyways.”

Ming giggled through a mouthful of food, which was an impressive achievement on its own. “Thanks, Arek. It means a lot to know you and the others have my back. I’ve wanted to confront him for a while now, but now that the opportunity is here… I’m not sure I want to see him at all.”

“Well, it’s something we can figure out later,” Arek said. “There’s still a week before he arrives, and who knows if we’ll still be alive by then.”

The snarls of the wyrms outside the building punctuated Arek’s words.

Ming gave him a small nod. “Is everyone else okay so far?”

“Belmont is. Malissa is still missing,” Arek said, his words turning grim. The walls shuddered as a wyrm slammed against them. Dust rained from the ceiling and Arek pulled his visor back down over his face. “Belmont actually sent me to find the two of you. I don’t think we’ve got much more time to talk.”

“Right,” Ming said, grabbing her bundle of staves and wrapping up all but the one she currently had. She slung it over her back. “What’s the plan?”

“Get onto my back,” Arek said. “I’m a lot faster than you. I’m going to head over to where Malissa was and we’ll figure things out from there. The wyrms have pretty much covered the outer thirty percent of the city, so things aren’t looking great.”

Ming nodded. She pushed the rest of her pie into her mouth and wiped her hands off on her cloak before grabbing her sack of food and running over to Arek. She hopped onto his back, holding the sack between her body and him as tightly as possible. Luckily, it was squishy and not heavy enough to throw the orc’s balance off.

“Hold on,” Arek warned her. “I’m going to move fast, and if the wyrms swarm over you, there won’t be much anyone can do.”

“I won’t let go,” Ming promised.

“Good,” Arek said, shifting his stance and spinning the guandao in his hand. “Here we go.”

Green energy thrummed around Arek as he drew on his magic. He had a lot more to draw from than he’d had before. As tired as his muscles and body were, the rune magic showed no signs of running out. Arek didn’t have time to wonder about the phenomenon at the moment.

The ground beneath his armored feet cracked as light flared around him. The wyrm corpse blocking the door was too big for him to squeeze past. He let out a slow breath and his eyes lit a brighter shade of red. Arek bounded forward, crashing clean through the wall.

Before the wyrms could react, he vaulted upwards with his guandao and slammed his feet onto one of the creature’s backs. Bones crunched under the force of his landing, but Arek didn’t stay to admire his handiwork. He leapt forward, bounding across the monsters’ backs. He reached a house and jumped onto the roof, nearly crushing it beneath his weight as he landed.

Arek staggered forward and managed to keep his balance, shifting into a lighter stride and dashing away from the horde before they could snap up at him.

“You okay?” Arek asked.

“I might have lost a pie or two, but I’m fine,” Ming yelled from behind him.

Arek mentally recreated a map of the city in his mind, plotting out where Malissa should have been and changing his course to head towards her.

Rooftops sped by in a blur as the strange duo shot through the city, ripples of green energy trailing from every step Arek made. Within minutes, Arek drew near the area where Malissa should have been. It was a small street that led into what had once been a miniature shopping square. It was littered with the corpses of wyrms and guards alike. For some reason, the horde was thinner here than it should have been.

Aside from Arek and Ming, the only other things in the area were several wyrms eating their own brethren along the edge of the square. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of Malissa, but there were none.

“You don’t happen to have any magic that could help us find Malissa, do you?” Arek asked.

“Not really,” Ming said with a frown. “Mostly just blowing stuff up, actually.”

“Keep your eyes peeled, then.” Arek bounded to the next roof to avoid a straggling wyrm that had started to eye him. His lips were pressed thin and his knuckles whitened over the hilt of the guandao. “There was a big fight here, but I don’t see her body. I don’t think she would have gone down like this.”

“I’m watching,” Ming promised.

Arek brought them closer to the center of the square. The smell of dead flesh had already started to take hold here. It mixed in with the blood, gore, and piss, filling the air with the rancid stench of war.

Ming’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Arek just scanned the area from their vantage point, his eyes like two small searchlights. The longer it took them to find Malissa, the worse things could be. He refused to even consider the fact that she’d been killed and eaten by the horde.

“Malissa!” Ming yelled, cupping a hand around her mouth. “Are you here?”

Arek flinched at the yell, then gave Ming a glance out of the corner of his eye. After a moment, the orc shrugged.

“Malissa!” he boomed, his voice echoing through the square like a thunderclap.

Several wyrms turned to look at them. A particularly bold one started to slink towards them. Arek growled and hurled the guandao at it. The blade punched into the creature’s shoulder in a spray of blood.

“Damn it,” Arek cursed.

The weapon flew back into his hand and he hurled it again, this time piercing the creature’s chest and killing it on the spot. The guandao tumbled back through the air and landed in his open grip.

“That’s new,” Ming observed.

Arek grunted in agreement, not taking his eyes away from the square. Several seconds passed. The pair called out for Malissa again, but there was no response.

“Look over there,” Ming said, pointing her staff at one of the alleyways.

A rough barricade had been erected in front of it, and wyrms were scattered around it. However, the barricades were fresh. There was no blood covering them.

“Someone set them up recently,” Arek realized. “Good catch, Ming.”

The small mage didn’t get a chance to respond. Arek leapt forward, sailing through the air and landing on the ground before the barricades with a loud crash. He pushed past them and started down the small alley, his weapon held defensively before him.

CHAPTER THIRTY

The street was made up of several dozen shops. Their doors had been barred and walled off. Large scrapes covered the walls and splatters of blood painted the ground.

“Someone fought here,” Arek said, “but there aren’t any bodies. Be on your guard, Ming. I don’t have time to explain everything, but I ran into another Blessed One in the city. We fought, but I found out that the curse doesn’t work if we can’t see each other. I was able to escape, but he’s likely hostile.”

“Gotcha,” Ming said. “I’ll fry anyone that comes at us.”

“Just don’t blow a guard up on accident,” Arek muttered as they continued forward. There were still no signs of whoever had been fighting, but a door on the left of the alley caught his attention.

Unlike the other ones, it hung slightly ajar. Beyond it, there was no more blood along the alley. Arek nodded towards the door. Ming nodded, leveling her staff at it from over the orc’s shoulder.

Arek carefully swung it open with his foot. The door creaked as it swung, revealing a dimly lit restaurant behind it. The tables were scattered and plates of cold food rested on the counter. A trail of blood led across the floor and through a door at the back.

He moved through the restaurant, grimacing as the wood creaked under his weight. The door was unlocked, so the orc pushed it open without lowering his weapon. Behind it was a dark storage room full of crates and barrels that likely contained ingredients.

It was harder to tell in the darkness, but the blood led up to a trapdoor in the corner of the room. Arek approached it and Ming hopped off his back, landing lightly on her feet and pointing her staff at the ground. Faint amounts of light trickled out from its edges.

Arek walked behind the trapdoor and glanced up at Ming, holding up three fingers. She nodded and he counted down, ripping it open when he hit zero.

Firelight spilled into the room, but all Arek could see was a hallway beneath him.

“Is anyone there?” Arek called, his patience wearing thin. His voice echoed down the corridor.

“Stay back!” Vint’s voice replied.

Arek swore under his breath. “What are you doing here?” he snapped. He glanced at Ming, mouthing “Blessed One” to her. Ming drew a finger across her throat and cocked her head at the orc, but he shook his head.

“I got waylaid,” Vint replied, his voice tense. “Just go somewhere else. I can’t afford to fight you right now.”

“Nor can I,” Arek replied. “I’ll be happy to get out of your hair, but first—have you seen a woman in silk clothing? She should have been in this area.”

There was a long pause. “Why?”

A growl tore out of Arek’s throat. “Answer the question if you don’t want me to come down there and end things one way or another. She’s part of my adventuring group, and you know something.”

“She’s with me,” Vint said after several moments. “I was leaving the city and got swarmed by a bunch of the wyrms near the wall. The stupid woman dove into the fight and saved my life because she thought I was a guard.”

It took an extreme force of will for Arek to keep himself from dropping through the trapdoor. “Is she alive?”

“I’ve done what I can for her wounds,” Vint replied. “She’s badly injured, though. If I leave, she’ll be dead shortly.”

Arek let out a low growl. His grip tightened around the guandao and his vision flashed red, but he didn’t move from where he stood.

“There’s a healer in my party that can save her,” Arek said.

“Are they with you?”

“No. They’re several minutes away, with a large group of guards. But it doesn’t look like you can do much to heal her either—you’re just keeping Malissa steady.”

“And so we’re at an impasse,” Vint called up to them. “I don’t feel inclined to kill this woman after she saved my life, but if you come down, the curse will give me no choice. She won’t survive our fight.”

“What if you’re blindfolded?” Ming called out. “It only activates if you can see each other, right? We can make blindfolds for both you and Arek.”

“Why would I let myself be blindfolded? There’s another Blessed One right next to me. He’ll kill me in an instant.” Vint showed no surprise at the sound of Ming’s voice.

“Then my companion will die,” Arek said. “I have no desire for your power. I just want my friend to live.”

Vint didn’t reply immediately. “And what of after we reach your healer? Nothing stops you from running me through once she’s safe.”

Arek’s lips pressed so tightly together that they started to go white. “I give you my word. There is nothing else I can say that would convince you. I do not know why Malissa chose to save you. However, if she dies, I can promise you that, as much as it pains me, I will undo her last act. Either both of you survive today—or neither of you do.”

Vint let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Fine. I don’t think there’s much of a choice. I’ll haunt you if you kill me while I’m blindfolded.”

Arek held back a sigh of relief and glanced at Ming expectantly. She pulled two shirts out from her extradimensional bag and tossed one into the cellar beneath them. Arek took the other from her.

“How will we escape once we’re both blindfolded?” Vint asked.

“I can carry everyone on my back,” Arek said after a moment of thought. “If I can’t see you, the curse shouldn’t take effect. If you and my companion both hold onto Malissa, I can get us to safety.”

“We’re all going to die,” Vint said. Arek heard him spit on the ground. “Get away from the trapdoor. I’m getting the blindfold.”

Arek forced himself to step back, but Ming did no such thing. She watched carefully for a few moments, then gave Arek a small nod.

“There,” Vint said. “I did it. Malissa is with me. Have your short friend help me bring her up. And make sure you’ve got your own blindfold on.”

“I’m right here,” Ming said irritably.

Arek wrapped the shirt around his head and turned away from the trapdoor, tossing his guandao from hand to hand anxiously as he heard Ming help Vint transport Malissa out from within the cellar. A few moments later, the dull thud of the man’s shoes on a ladder echoed through the room.

“Move a little to your right,” Ming instructed him, her voice wavering slightly. “And Arek? Don’t look at Malissa.”

Arek nearly ripped the blindfold off at that exact moment, but he restrained himself with the last ounce of his will.

“It might have been better if you didn’t say that,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just get moving before the wyrms kill us all.”

They shuffled around for a short while. Then Ming’s light footsteps approached him.

“We’re going to get on,” Ming said. “Hold still.”

Arek nodded. He felt someone jump onto his back. A moment later, a much lighter body hopped onto him. They shuffled around for a few moments before settling down.

“Okay,” Ming said. Her voice was tense. “We’re ready.”

Vint grunted in agreement. Arek reached up and removed the shirt, handing it back to Ming without turning around. His passengers were unwieldy, but the magical armor provided enough extra balance that he could still move.

His movements weren’t as smooth as normal and his center of gravity was completely askew, but there was no time to figure out another solution. Arek dropped the guandao, which burst into motes of green light and flew back into his claws.

“I’m not going to be able to fight any monsters like this,” Arek said, adjusting his stance. “I’m focusing on getting to safety as fast as possible. Don’t let go.”

He strode forward, peeking out the door of the shop. The smell of war assaulted him as soon as he stepped outside, and his vision started to turn red. There were still no wyrms in the alley, so he squeezed out and started towards the small square.

The orc’s walk turned into a jog and then a sprint. His footsteps fell heavier and heavier as he accelerated, lowering his body and barreling into the center of the square like a rampaging bull.

The wyrms had pushed deeper. Several had already reached the area that Arek was heading through. They let out snarls as Arek approached, but their beady eyes widened in fear and they dashed away.

Arek stormed past them, not even giving the creatures a second glance. His eyes were focused on the two-story building before him. When he grew close enough, the muscles in his legs bunched up and he launched himself upwards with enough force to break the stone beneath him.

He crashed through the walls on the second story of the house, but they didn’t even slow him. The armor absorbed the brunt of the attack and the orc continued forward, bursting through the other side of the house and flying across the rooftops.

“Everyone still on?” Arek half-asked, half-growled as he landed on a roof and thundered forwards.

“Barely,” Ming said with a strained grunt. “I squished my bag of food.”

Vint let out a grunt that Arek took as agreement. The man didn’t sound particularly happy about his situation, but the orc didn’t care. All that mattered was that Malissa survived the day.

He launched forward again, bounding from rooftop to rooftop like the world’s largest, strangest green bunny. As he ran, he could practically feel the gaze of the horde latch onto him. His breathing was already ragged and his muscles groaned in protest with every move. He couldn’t afford to fight them with three passengers.

As Arek pulled away from the small town square, the horde grew thicker. If anything, there were even more of the wyrms than there had been before. They were practically stacked on each other’s shoulders.

The sounds of battle still rang out throughout the city, but it had dimmed considerably. Arek wasn’t sure if that was because the guards had been massacred or the wyrms had been temporarily delayed by all the fresh food and corpses littering the outer ring of the city.

He didn’t stop to ponder his questions. Arek continued forward, pushing his body to the very limit. Monsters snapped up at him as he passed overhead, but none managed to land a strike.

When he was a little over halfway back to the guard outpost and Belmont, a shadow passed overhead. Arek threw himself and his passengers forward with a burst of energy, barely landing on his feet as the roof behind them exploded in a shower of splinters.

Arek stumbled, nearly falling over before righting himself and continuing onwards without even chancing a glance behind himself.

“What’s going on?” Vint yelled.

“Wyvern!” Arek called back, hopping from roof to roof in what he desperately hoped was a zigzag pattern. Hot breath washed over his back through the cracks in his armor as the wyvern let out a furious roar.

Arek felt Ming let go with one hand. The roar turned to a sputtering cough. He felt her bag of food flutter, and the load on his back lightened slightly.

“Bullseye,” Ming said, once again pulling herself close to Arek’s back. “That maneuver cost me a turkey leg. I’m not sure if it was worth it.”

“Is it dead?” Vint asked. “I’ll not be taken low by some worthless—”

The wyrm let out a roar.

“I don’t think it’s dead,” Ming said helpfully.

Arek didn’t have time to respond. He leapt to the side, barely avoiding the wyvern’s claws as they raked through the building behind him.

“I don’t think you’re going to outrun this,” Ming said, pointing her staff back at the wyvern and firing off a bolt of pure magic. The monster let out a screech of pain from a short distance behind them.

“I can’t fight it without losing control of the magic keeping your friend alive,” Vint said. “But don’t think I’ll go around dying to save her.”

“Shut up,” Arek growled. “Get off my back, both of you. Ming, keep the wyrms on the ground from getting up to you. Vint… hide on the other side of the wall or something. We’re not going to be able to escape before I take care of our scaly friend.”

Ming leapt to the ground. Vint dropped a moment later. Arek nearly turned to check on them, but he stopped at the last moment. If he even caught a glimpse of Vint, it could all be over.

“Follow me! And help me carry Malissa,” Ming said, grabbing Vint and dragging him away. The guandao shimmered to life in Arek’s hands.

He waited as long as he could for the two of them to leave his field of view. A rush of air buffeting against him was the only warning he received before the wyrm was upon him. He spun, raising his guandao just in time to catch both of the creature’s front paws—one on each end of the weapon.

The force of the strike pushed Arek back through the roof, tearing apart shingles and sending them cascading down onto the sea of wyrms below them. The wyvern was larger than the ones he’d seen previously. The creature had dull red lines going down its body, and its scales were bronze and gold rather than the dull grayish silver that Arek had come to expect. The beast’s wings were also bigger than he’d expected. The strange wyvern let out a roar and snaked its head forward.

Arek released the guandao with one hand and threw his body into a powerful punch directed at the scaled monster’s nose. It connected with a satisfying thud and the wyvern let out a cry of pain.

“You’re a loud bastard, aren’t you?” Arek snarled, his battle rage taking the reins of his battered body. He lunged forward, thrusting the guandao towards the monster’s chest.

It flapped back, avoiding the strike, then lashed out with its tail. The strike caught Arek in the shoulder and threw him through a wall, shattering the glowing armor instantly. The orc tumbled through someone’s kitchen table and rolled to his feet, his left arm hanging limply at his side.

This monster was significantly stronger than the other wyverns he’d fought. Well, either that or he was just getting weaker. Both were equally likely. Arek gritted his teeth and forced down the pain coursing through his body.

It turned into a dull thrum that blended in with the drum of the blood rage in his ears. He let out a wordless roar, grabbing the guandao with his other hand and charging towards the wyvern.

It flapped back into the air once again. Arek reared back and launched the guandao through the air. The wyvern’s wings buffeted him as it tried to dodge the strike.

The polearm pierced the creature’s side, drawing another cry of rage. Arek extended his hand and the weapon flew back into it.

“You make too much noise. Just shut up!”

Arek hurled the guandao again. This time, the wyvern ducked out of the way, hate filling its dark eyes as it avoided the flying weapon and made a beeline towards the orc.

He hopped back, his guandao flying back into his grasp instants before the wyvern was upon him. Arek didn’t have time to try and block the strike, so he rolled forward between the creature’s arms.

Its claws tore through the roof behind Arek. He came up, driving the guandao into the beast’s side as he rose. It let out a screech and lashed out with its hind leg. The blow caught Arek on his side and tore through the armor like paper, leaving four deep, red gashes.

Arek stumbled, then thrust his weapon deeper into the creature’s body. Its wings flapped as it leapt back, wobbling unsteadily in the sky with the guandao still lodged in its side.

He pressed a hand against the burning wound in his own side. It came away soaked red. Arek gritted his teeth. His already-weakened body was losing blood too fast. When he stretched his hand out, the guandao ripped itself free of the wyvern and flew back to him.

Arek staggered across the roof, making his way towards where Ming and Vint were hiding. The wyvern, bleeding heavily from the wound that the orc had inflicted, flapped back and landed on a rooftop a short distance away from them.

“Can’t keep fighting,” Arek gasped once he got to the corner. “We need to go. Get back on.”

He turned around without waiting for their response. A moment later, he felt Ming and Vint hop on, along with an extra weight that was probably Malissa. He no longer felt Ming’s sack of food against his back.

“We’re on!” Ming said. “Go!”

Arek didn’t have the energy to question her. He tipped forward and drew on the last dregs of his strength, charging across the rooftops while pressing his bleeding side with his hand.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“Are you going to be able to make it in this condition?” Vint yelled over the clamor of the wyrms below them in the streets. “You’re losing a lot of blood.”

“Can you do anything about it?” Arek called back.

“Not without letting the woman die.”

“Then shut up.”

“Arek, the wyvern is following us!” Ming warned them. He felt her adjust on his back as she pointed her staff back at the flying monster. A bolt of pure magic shot out and the wyvern released a hiss.

“Your magic needs more power behind it,” Vint told Ming. “You’re just tickling it. I can tell from the amount of energy coming out of you that those are just energy bolts. Don’t you have a stronger spell?”

“Shut up,” Ming said, mirroring Arek’s words. “Just keep Malissa alive.”

Vint let out an annoyed huff but went silent. The thunder of the blood rage rang in Arek’s ears, droning out any further words that Ming might have said. His body was in pure survival mode now.

The only thing in his head was the rhythmic thud of his feet on the roofing and the quickly fading map of the city he’d built within his mind. The wyvern followed after them, and Ming continued to send blast after blast of pure magic at the creature whenever it grew too close to them.

As they neared the guard outpost, Arek’s vision started to fade. His head felt light and his limbs buzzed like they’d fallen asleep. His side was full of knots, and even the blood rage had started to fade.

The wyvern let out a shriek behind them. Arek got the feeling that it could tell he was weakening, and the wretched creature was just waiting for him to collapse before it finished the rest of them off.

The air crackled behind Arek. Ming let out a slow breath and the sky rumbled as a series of pure magic explosions detonated in a line. The wyvern let out a cry of pain, and Arek heard something crunch.

He couldn’t afford to look back to see what it was. The orc caught sight of the square in the distance before him. His consciousness sputtered. All he could focus on was one final train of thought: Left. Right. Left. Right.

Ming channeled energy into her staff again, but Arek staggered. She let it fade, settling for a bolt of pure magic instead. The wyvern let out a pained screech. It was doing better than Arek, but not by much.

Its face was scorched and blackened. The wound in its side bled profusely, and its scales were cracked from where Ming’s magic had torn through its defenses. The monster’s beady eyes flicked from Arek to the guard outpost, and it let out a rattling hiss of frustration.

Slowly, it turned in the air and flapped away. Arek took one final leap across the rooftops. He crashed to the ground several feet away from one of the barricaded sides of the square, barely managing to stay upright.

Two stunned guards watched him with disbelief in their eyes. Belmont leapt past them, his staff already in his hand. His eyes widened, but Arek’s dimming thoughts couldn’t make out what the man was looking at.

“What happened?” Belmont asked in horror, raising the staff and sending a cascade of pink light over Arek. “Who’s this person, and why is he blindfolded?”

The wounds in his side started to stitch closed, but he was so exhausted that he could barely even feel the relief.

“She was wounded,” Vint said as he and Ming hopped down from Arek’s back. “I stabilized her. If you’ve got talent as a healer, she’ll live.”

“She was wounded saving you,” Ming said, her tone accusatory.

“And I returned the favor,” Vint said coolly. “My debt to her is already paid.”

Belmont’s eyes narrowed. He stepped back and moved his staff to point at Malissa. The man’s face turned slightly pale, but he swallowed and tightened his grip on the shaft of the pink weapon as he started to heal the woman.

Arek let out a relieved breath. Then his consciousness blinked out, and he knew nothing more.

When Arek awoke, he was lying in something soft. He blinked, the haze of sleep already sloughing off him. He slowly sat up, licking his dry lips to bring some moisture back into them.

He was outside, sitting on a large pile of assorted tablecloths and clothing. A room had been made out of large wooden crates around him, although there was no roof. Arek carefully rose to his feet, inspecting his body for wounds. There was nothing.

“Arek!” Ming yelled.

The orc turned as the small mage darted out from behind a crate and skidded to a stop before him. “Is Malissa okay?”

Ming nodded. “Yeah. Belmont healed her right after you passed out. She’s with Belmont right now.”

“I see,” Arek said, his shoulders relaxing as the tension left them. He looked up into the sky. Pillars of smoke rose from the edges of the city and formed dark clouds in the air over them. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“A day,” Ming said. “Belmont said he spent more energy healing your muscles than he did healing the wounds the wyvern caused you. Are you feeling okay?”

“As good as I could expect for the situation.” Arek rolled his stiff shoulders and forced back a yawn. “How are things looking with the horde?”

“Belmont can probably say more than I can,” Ming said, “but they could be worse. We’re holding on.”

Ming led Arek out of the room. He recognized the town square immediately, but there had been some significant changes. The barricades had been stacked higher with the corpses of wyrms.

Wounded guards and adventurers lay in the center of the square. Belmont walked amongst them, healing magic pouring out of his staff. The man had dark bags under his eyes. He had his arm slung over Malissa, who was practically dragging him.

Belmont paused as he saw Arek and Ming approaching. A small smile crossed his weary face. “Arek! I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

“And I’m glad to be awake,” Arek said. “That was a good job you did with the healing. I can’t even tell I was leaking my guts out. How’s Malissa doing?”

“Better than the rest of you, if I had to guess,” Malissa said, giving Arek a small grin. “I heard that you and Ming saved me after I nearly got buried by wyrms.”

“We had some help,” Arek said, a frown flickering across his face. “Speaking of which….”

“He left,” Ming said, guessing Arek’s question. “He waited until Malissa got healed and then walked back into the horde.”

“Probably for the best,” Arek said.

“I agree,” Belmont said. “We don’t want to deal with another Blessed One in the camp right now. Our hands are already full.”

“How bad are things?”

“We’ve managed to keep the wyrms from pushing deeper into the city. Captain Riggs set up an outpost a few blocks away from us. We’ve been using dead wyrms as barricades to slow the horde down, and it seems to be working. It’s become a war of attrition. The city is ransacked and, from our best guesses, almost half the guards have died. Most of the C-rank teams are still kicking, but we’re missing about half of the lower-ranking ones. The fighting has turned into skirmishes as the wyrms slowly push forward, but they haven’t been able to break our defenses so far.”

“I see,” Arek said. “So… what’s the plan?”

“We wait,” Belmont replied with a grim smile. “We hold the lines and wait.”

Arek rolled his shoulders. They were stiff, and his stomach growled. “What food do we have?”

“I hope you like wyvern and wyrm,” Belmont said, giving Arek a halfhearted smile.

Arek grunted. “Maybe I can make something with it. I need to eat before I get back to fighting, and I’m sure the people resting here need energy as well.”

“Good idea,” Malissa said. She gave Arek an approving nod as he headed out of his makeshift room, grabbing his bag on the way.

He made his way past the guards and up to the barricade of monster corpses. Using his cleaver, he sliced the back of one open and carved a chunk of its flesh out, sniffing at it cautiously.

It certainly wasn’t the best-smelling meat he’d ever found, but it wasn’t rank. Arek chewed his lower lip and gestured to a nearby guard that was watching him curiously.

“What ingredients do you have?” Arek asked. “Anything, really.”

“We’ve got hardtack,” the guard replied, curling his lip in distaste. “And some juice. Not much, though.”

“What kind of juice?”

“Orange,” the guard replied. “Why?

Arek rubbed his chin, mentally going through his supplies. “I can make something decent to eat if you give me the juice.”

The guard blinked, his eyes going down to Arek’s cleaver. “You’re a chef? Actually, I don’t care. It can’t possibly be worse than anything else I’ve had to eat recently.”

He darted off, disappearing into a shoddy tent before reemerging with a metal jug that he thrust into Arek’s arms. The orc thanked him and sat down near a large piece of rubble. He chopped the meat into thin strips and set it aside. Then he minced a small piece of ginger root and crushed a clove of garlic.

Arek pulled a bowl from his pack and set it on the stone before retrieving several vials from his bandolier. He poured a few glugs of soy sauce into the bowl, adding a splash of sesame oil and a healthy amount of sugar into the mix as well.

Orange juice followed the garlic and ginger he’d minced. Arek finished it off by removing a small vial full of bright orange liquid and shaking a few drops into the bowl. He mixed everything together, then added the meat to the mix.

Once everything had thoroughly soaked, Arek held his hands over the bowl and drew a deep breath. Golden-yellow light enveloped his hands and washed over the food. The meat started to dry and the liquid level shrank.

He remained there for no more than a minute before removing the now darkened meat from its marinade and setting it on the stone. Arek’s hands lit once more, and the meat continued to dry until it was a dark orange-red.

“Not my best work since I had to rush some things,” Arek said, rocking back and wiping the sweat from his brow. Vell’s runes were optimized for war, not cooking. The small additions he’d made were pitifully inefficient, but they got the job done.

The guard he’d spoken to grabbed one of the pieces of jerky from the ground and examined it critically before taking a bite. His eyes widened and the rest of the piece vanished into his gullet.

“Beats hardtack every single day of the week,” the guard exclaimed. “I never knew wyrm tasted good.”

Arek took a piece for himself. The jerky wasn’t exactly smoky, but it had a zing from the orange that mixed well with the powerful flavor of the wyrm. He finished his meal and took one more strip for himself.

“I’m going to go distribute this and then make some more,” Arek said, handing half the food to the guard. “Hand some of this out yourself, if you can.”

The guard nodded eagerly, darting off to follow Arek’s request.

The next few days were a blur. A blood-filled, painful blur. Arek lost count of the number of wyrms that he killed and the jerky that he made. Their posts were slowly forced back until they held the lines only a short distance away from the protective shield that housed the citizens of Red Mount.

No matter how many of the beasts they slew, there were more to take their place. By the time the fourth day started to draw to a close, exhaustion ran rampant in the camps. Arek had earned some new scars that Belmont lacked the magic to fully heal, and he wasn’t alone.

Ming sported a thin line across the side of her face from where a wyvern had nearly ripped her open with a claw, and a long, ropey line ran across Malissa’s stomach from a particularly brutal stab wound.

The only thing that kept the guards and the adventurers going were the citizens behind them. It started with Rovin standing on the other side of the wall, his hands pressed together. Then the other council members joined him, and a large portion of the city’s populace followed shortly after.

No sound could pass through the shimmering blue shield, but Arek could see the hope in their faces. When his body was exhausted and his muscles burnt out, they were what kept him going.

Arek’s “Wyrm” Jerky

1 pound salmon

½ cup soy sauce

¼ cup sugar

¼ teaspoon ginger

1-2 garlic cloves

¼ cup orange juice

1 teaspoon orange oil

Dash of honey (optional): Mince garlic and crush garlic cloves.

1. Add everything other than the meat to a bowl and mix thoroughly.

2. Slice meat into ¼ inch-thin strips.

3. Soak the meat in the marinade for 4 hours. (Unless you have dehydration or acceleration magic like Arek. Then do it for 1 minute.)

4. Place meat in a dehydrator and run for 9.5 hours at 145 degrees F.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

When the fourth day finally drew to a close and the fifth started, the shield behind them flickered. A small hole appeared within it, allowing Rovin to step through.

“There are only a few days until the B-rank team arrives!” he exclaimed. “You’ve done it! Quickly, get behind the shield. There’s no need for further loss. It will hold until the B-rankers get here. The other council members are gathering the remaining groups of guards.”

Arek could barely comprehend the man’s words. He numbly followed along with everyone else as they staggered into the shield, covered in sweat and blood. The people of Red Mount watched them, hopeful expressions on their faces. If the shield held and the B-ranked team arrived, they would be saved. The nightmare was nearly over.

The shield closed behind the exhausted defenders once they’d all gotten within its boundaries. Arek flopped to the ground, using his travel pack as a pillow as he finally gave in to the exhaustion.

With the guards gone, it only took the wyrms an hour to push forwards and start investigating the glimmering blue walls. More and more of the creatures came as nothing rose to slay them. By the time the sun had started to set, the streets were covered in snarling silver.

The monsters slammed themselves against the barrier, tearing at it with their claws and sending ripples across the shield. The mass of wyrms stretched as far as the eye could see, but more and more turned their attention to the blue shield as the rest of the city ran out of resources.

Arek slept through the night. He awoke the following morning to a loud bang. He jerked upright, drawing in a sharp breath as a huge ripple passed through the shield in the air far above him.

A large wyvern let out a screech of fury and wheeled about in the air, flying away before coming back for another pass. The shield rippled once more, but it showed no signs of fading.

Arek let out a sigh. He shook his head and rose to his feet. Someone had put a thin blanket over him. He folded it up and set it on the ground before standing.

“Good to see you’re okay,” Rovin said from behind Arek.

The orc turned and gave him a weary smile. “As am I. It was very close.”

“Indeed,” the councilman said, letting out a weary sigh. He winced as a wyvern slammed against the shield again. “The horde is not happy. However, you and your fellow adventurers held the lines better than I ever could have hoped. I’m reluctant to even say it out loud, but if the B-ranked team arrives on time, we should make it.”

“Do you know how long it will be until they get here?”

“It should only be two days, but there’s no point worrying ourselves over that now. The shield will hold for two days—either they arrive, or they don’t. It’s out of our hands. Now, come. I will take you to your companions.”

Arek followed Rovin through a thin crowd of people who watched the rippling shield with a mixture of hope and fear. The two of them wove through packed streets until they reached the true center of Red Mount: the council building.

Malissa and Ming sat on the building’s steps. Rovin trailed behind Arek as the orc made his way over to his companions. They glanced at him, grins crossing their faces.

“I thought you were going to sleep through everything else,” Ming said.

A new tarp bag sat at her side. Before Arek could ask what it was, the mage reached into it and pulled out a skewer of some sort of meat. It was a golden-brown color and had traces of some dark sauce on it, although Arek couldn’t tell if it was part of the dish or an unwanted tagalong from something else.

“I would have liked to,” Arek grumbled, “but it was hard with all the damn racket going on outside. Where’s Belmont?”

“He’s at the healing tent,” Ming said. “There are a lot of injured guards, and he’s helping heal them. He’s been working all morning.”

Arek let out a heavy sigh. “Those B-rankers better show up on time. It’s going to be a real pain in my ass if we put all this work into surviving and end up just getting swarmed because they showed up late.”

He sat down on the steps beside them. Malissa opened her mouth, then closed it and shook her head. And so, with nothing left to say, they took the only option left: they waited.

Time passed infuriatingly slow. For most of them, there was little to do but watch. Belmont busied himself healing the wounded guards with every waking moment. The man’s eyes had developed dark bags and he could barely stand in his armor, but he refused all attempts to get him to stop.

The shield grew fainter as time trickled between their fingers. The ripples from the monster’s attacks traveled further and the roars of the horde grew louder, but still the shield held. On the dawn of the next day, the shield was closer to translucent than blue. The Happy Sunflowers joined the rest of Red Mount at the edge of the shield as they watched the sky with bated breath.

“Do you think they’ll arrive on time?” Malissa asked.

Arek shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

Belmont leaned heavily on his staff. He yawned and shook his head. “If they don’t, I’ll haunt the bastards. We’ve survived this long. We can’t just die in the final stretch.”

They fell silent once again. Hours passed by slowly, the shield growing weaker with every passing second. Small hairline cracks started to trace their way through the magical energy, crawling towards the top of the dome.

“Look!” someone yelled, pointing up towards the skyline.

Arek followed their finger to see a small, dark dot contrasted against the midday sun.

“Another wyvern?” he wondered, but he knew that wasn’t the case almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

Purple energy crackled through the sky like a miniature lightning storm. The dot rapidly grew in size and slammed into the city’s outer wall with a loud explosion that sent dirt and debris flying through the air.

The earth rumbled faintly beneath Arek’s feet. Dozens of smoke plumes curled into the air as fires erupted along the edges of the city. Jagged pillars of stone the size of four-story buildings erupted from the ground, launching wyrms into the sky.

Cheers erupted as the crackling purple form rose back into the air. Hundreds of furious roars tore out as wyverns flapped up from around the city, flying towards the mage. There were easily several hundred of the deadly creatures.

They closed in on the figure at a rapid pace, nearly blotting out the sky around him within moments. The purple emanating from around the mage flickered and faded as they became obscured from view by the wyverns.

The cheers abruptly stopped. Everyone watched in tense silence, but no boom of powerful magic or explosion of deadly energy rang out. For a few instants, there was only silence.

It started to rain. Blood splattered down on the town as dissected chunks of wyvern fell from the sky, painting the city red. They fell until only a single form remained in the sky—and purple energy crackled victoriously to life around it once more.

The rest of the monsters didn’t last long. Everyone gathered at the edge of the flickering dome to watch the massacre. It took a grand total of one hour for the B-ranked team to tear through the city, slaughtering wyrms and any straggling wyverns with every movement. They made the guards’ efforts look pathetic.

Wreathed in crackling purple energy, the figure floated towards the shield in front of them, touching down as the magic around him faded. He wore light leather armor that had been stained a dark, grayish black. A large wizard’s hat covered his face, concealing everything but his mouth from view.

Ming tensed beside Arek. The orc put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at the orc and gave him a small nod.

“We’ve dealt with the horde,” Null said. His voice was much more youthful than Arek expected; he couldn’t have been much older than twenty, but the power he wielded was terrifying.

The ground beside Null rippled like it had turned to water. A burly man rose out from within it, stone and dirt sloughing off him. He gave the citizens a wide grin and a thumbs-up as he brushed out his heavy beard with the other hand.

“Avenguard has taken care of all the hostiles,” the man Arek presumed to be Ox said in a gravelly tone. “How bad are the casualties? We don’t have any healers, and we rushed straight here, so we didn’t have time to get one.”

Rovin pushed through the crowd to get up to the edge of the shield. He raised a hand and the barrier flickered. Starting from the top of the dome, it paled and faded away until nothing remained.

“Our casualties are minimal for the scenario,” Rovin said. “The adventuring teams in the city paid in blood to save us. We’ve got some injuries, but due to a healer in one of the teams, nothing immediately life-threatening. One group also had experience with monster hordes, which I believe proved invaluable.”

“Experience with a monster horde?” Null asked, cocking his head. The motion looked strikingly similar to Ming’s. “That’s exceedingly uncommon. Was there another high-ranked team amongst you?”

“No,” Rovin said, glancing back through the crowd in Belmont’s direction. “They’re an F-ranked team, actually.”

“F ranked? How could an F-ranked team possibly have any experience with a horde of this size?” Null pressed.

“Not now, Null,” Ox said, his ruddy features tightening. “There will be time to talk later. Are there any citizens that are still trapped within the city?”

“It’s possible but highly unlikely,” Rovin replied. “We evacuated a good while before the horde hit. However, there might be stranded guards or adventurers that got trapped behind the lines of the horde. Many are unaccounted for.”

“If anyone’s there, Ash and Ice will find them,” Ox said. “Could we gather all the adventuring teams licensed by the guild? If possible, I’d like a rundown on the situation. I understand that Red Mount is independent of the guilds, but monster hordes cannot be allowed to happen.”

“We’ll get who we can, but many are asleep right now and I don’t wish to bother them more. You can quiz them later.” Rovin gave a heavy sigh. “Their casualties were not insignificant. There’s an F-ranked team—the one that knew about the monster horde—that’s currently all present.”

Ox shook his head. “It’s a miracle you survived. This is all the more reason for a status report, though. We’ll need to clear this dungeon out, but it shouldn’t be as bad now that the horde has been thinned. My team will take care of it tomorrow. Have the F-rankers ready to meet tonight. The others can come tomorrow. We’ll focus on making sure the city is safe and recovering any bodies we can until then.”

Rovin nodded wearily. Ox gave him a small smile and clapped the exhausted councilman on the shoulder. “It’s over now, Rovin. Red Mount will pull through this. The outer city is ransacked, but most of your people are safe. Walls and houses can be rebuilt.”

He stepped back, and the stone rose up around him and Null. They sank down and vanished underground. A few moments of silence passed. The fight for survival was over, but nobody felt like cheering.

“Come,” Arek said. “The city needs us.”

“What do you mean?” Malissa asked. “Avenguard is here.”

“We aren’t going to be fighting any more monsters,” Arek said. “The people need healing. Let the B-rankers handle the rest of the fighting. There’s something far more important that we need to do.”

“And what’s that?” Ming asked, her hands still clenched tightly at her sides.

Arek nodded down at the sack at her feet. “Food. We can’t do anything for those who have already passed, but we can make life a little better for the ones that haven’t. Healing doesn’t have to be magic. For me, it started with a single meal. Now it is our turn to do the same for others.”

“I guess so,” Ming said. “But why do you need me? Malissa’s your student.”

“I need you because you look like you’re trying to strangle your staff,” Arek said, nodding down at her clenched fist. “And I’m not going to leave a friend alone in a time like this.”

“I can’t just wander around,” Ming muttered. “Null might see me.”

Arek reached into his bag and pulled out his mask. He tossed it to Ming, who grabbed it out of the air. She glanced from Arek to it, then slowly put it on.

Her features shimmered. Her hair turned from black to brown and her skin tone grew lighter. The girl’s nose elongated slightly and her eyes thinned. Ming examined her illusionary body. Then she sighed and looked back up.

“What are we going to make?” she asked. “We’ve got an entire city to feed. Are we going to recruit all the vendors in the area? Even if we do, most of the city’s food supply got destroyed by the monsters. There’s nothing to cook.”

A small grin crossed Arek’s lips. “The very monsters that took our food supply have kindly offered themselves up to us. Many of them died today, and their meat is still good. There’s more than enough food for everyone—we just have to gather it and start cooking.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

“If you’re sure,” Ming said, frowning slightly. “What do we do, then?”

“We’ll set up a station,” Arek said, rubbing his chin. “I’ll start cooking in the center of town so people can find the food. Meanwhile, I need the two of you to get as much wyrm and wyvern meat as possible. Actually, there are enough of them that we can be picky. Focus on their breasts and thighs. The other parts of their bodies are too muscly to taste good.”

“Okay,” Malissa said, nodding. “We can do that. We’ll grab swords from some of the guards to cut the wyrms. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” Arek said. “Be on the lookout for cooking oil of any sort when you go through the houses. Flour as well. I’ve got enough to make a good number of portions, but I can’t feed the city with what I’ve got now. Luckily, I doubt wyrms would have gone for raw ingredients, so a lot of them should have been left alone. Just check stores, houses, and restaurants.”

“Understood,” Ming said, her frown starting to fade slightly as a goal came into sight.

Malissa gave Arek an appreciative nod as the two of them pushed through the crowd and headed into the ruined city around them.

Arek didn’t stay to watch them go. He turned and walked towards a nearby tavern. It looked like it had seen better days. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Aside from a weary-looking man in a stained apron, it was completely empty. The man glanced up at Arek as he entered.

“Can I borrow this?” Arek asked, nodding to a wrecked table in the corner of the tavern.

“I suppose so,” the man said, raising an eyebrow slightly. “It’s not like I’m going to be able to fill my tavern anytime soon. Why do you need it?”

“I’m cooking,” Arek replied, grabbing the table and lifting it without much difficulty. It took some effort to maneuver it through the door, but it just barely managed to fit.

Arek carried the table out through the crowd and set it down in front of the council building. He set his travel pack down beside it on the stone. He returned to the tavern and grabbed another table. The man gave him a baffled stare but said nothing as Arek liberated it.

The orc brought the damaged table over to sit beside his first one. Then he reared back and struck it with his palm. The wood crunched and shattered from the force of his strike. Arek repeated the process a few more times, then gathered everything into a small pile.

He wiped them off on a leg of his pants. He then took his wok out and set it beside the pile. A large bowl followed after it, along with a leather bag of flour and a flask of water. Arek used some of it to wash his hands.

He pointed a finger at the destroyed table. A weak flame sprouted on the wood. It expanded quickly, travelling across it until the entire pile was engulfed in fire. Arek set his wok down in the center of the pile, ignoring the heat completely.

The orc then dumped all the flour he had into his mixing bowl, nearly filling it. He grabbed the salt from his bandolier and added a healthy amount. An equal amount of rising powder followed it.

Arek stirred the dry ingredients together with his claws. Once they were incorporated, the orc made a well in the center of the flour. He poured in the water and several healthy glugs of oil. Then he started to mix everything together.

A few people broke away from the crowd to watch as Arek cooked. He gave them a small grin but didn’t take his attention away from the ball of shaggy dough slowly forming beneath his hands.

He kneaded it until the dough turned smooth and slightly supple. The resulting ball was slightly bigger than his head. He slapped it onto the table and broke a small piece off it, flattening it into a disc as best as he could and setting it to the side. Arek’s hands moved faster and faster as he repeated the process. Within minutes, several dozen discs of dough had been stacked out across the table.

The crowd forming around him had grown to five people, three of whom were children and their mother. Arek tried to give them a comforting smile, but they flinched back. The mom kept her hands on the kids’ shoulders, stopping them from running away.

“Hungry?” Arek asked.

The woman examined Arek. Her eyes were hardened by pain or experience. Slowly, she nodded. “You should not cook in the open like that. Not many have eaten a good meal in the last week, and almost all our restaurants have been ransacked. People will be jealous.”

“Of what?” Arek asked, smirking. “Do you think I’m cooking all of this for myself?”

She didn’t get a chance to respond. Ming and Malissa pressed through the crowd, both holding large, bloody hunks of meat in the air before them. Dozens of gazes followed the women as they walked up to Arek.

“Where should we put this?” Malissa asked.

“Hold on,” Arek replied. “Let me get another table.”

The owner of the small tavern brought out several other tables—some broken and some mostly undamaged—and set them beside Arek. He gave the orc a small nod.

Ming and Malissa plopped the large chunks of meat onto one of the functional tables.

“Thank you. Did you find anything else yet?” Arek asked.

“Not yet,” Malissa replied. “We were going to get the meat first, then try to scavenge after.”

“That’s fine,” Arek said. “It’ll take me a little time to get the meat prepared. Could you focus on trying to find some citrus fruits? I’ve got everything else I need for the first batch.”

They nodded and slipped back into the crowd as Arek returned to the table of meat. He pulled his cleaver free from his travel back, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of the smooth wood in his hand. Then he got to work.

Arek examined the cuts of meat for a few moments, poking and prodding them with his claws. He’d cooked wyrm meat before, but dehydrating it was a bit easier than actually cooking it.

One of the pieces had a long bone jutting out of it. Arek carved it free with his cleaver and tossed it to the ground. He chopped the steak into several large strips, then repeated it with the other slice of meat.

The orc raised his hand over the food and concentrated for a moment. A shimmer of golden light emerged from his hands and the blood evaporated from the meat as it dried slightly.

“Arek!” Ming called out.

The orc glanced up just in time to see a lime flying towards his face. He grabbed it out of the air. Another one followed it, but Arek managed to snatch it as well. He missed the third, which bounced off his forehead.

“Sorry!” Ming yelled from the other side of the crowd. She turned and jogged back off into the city.

“It’s fine,” Arek called back, ignoring the glances people gave him. He picked the lime up and set it on the table along with the other two.

He pulled another mixing bowl from his bag and squeezed the limes into it, crushing them to make sure every last drop of juice came out. Then he carefully laid the cuts of meat down inside the juice.

Arek used his cleaver to scrape some zest off the limes, then tossed it into a smaller mixing bowl. He grabbed several small vials from his bandolier, shaking the spices within them into the bowl and mixing everything together with the tip of his cleaver.

He sat back and fought off a yawn. He couldn’t afford to get tired right now. The crowd watching him had grown slightly. Arek said nothing for several minutes as he allowed the steak to soak in the lime juice.

After some time had passed, Arek took the steaks out from the juice, leaving what remained in the bowl. He patted the spice mixture he’d made onto the steak, massaging it in to make sure it didn’t fall off while it cooked. He repeated the process with each piece of steak and set the prepared cuts on the table.

Arek then grabbed the canister of oil from his bandolier and tipped some of it into his wok. He swirled it around, then tossed several of the strips in. They crackled as they hit the hot metal. Smoke curled up and rose into the air as the smell of lime, paprika, and charring meat instantly filled the air.

The crowd watching him grew even larger, forming into a tight circle of hungry faces. Arek gave them a small nod but didn’t turn away from the food. After five minutes, he flipped the cuts of wyrm steak.

A smile crossed the orc’s face. They’d turned perfectly brown, with a beautiful black char that pressed back against his touch. Wyrm meat cooked just like any other.

Arek took the meat out after another five minutes and set it on a clean part of the table. He tossed the remaining food into the pan and repeated the process, flipping it once after five minutes. Once it was done, he set the meat on the table.

“Don’t touch anything yet,” Arek warned everyone. “I’m not done yet, and my food will not be eaten improperly.”

“You’re sharing?” a large man asked from the crowd.

“It’s the chef that cooked for the guards,” another voice called. “He made the jerky!”

Arek just flashed him a grin. He reached into his travel pack and pulled out the gold medallion. He pressed the indent and vanished. A few minutes later, he popped back into existence with a bundle of cilantro in his hands.

His cleaver blurred, chopping it into tiny pieces. He pushed it into a small pile, then grabbed several of the tortillas and tossed them into his wok. He quickly turned them over, making sure they were warm before removing them.

Arek grabbed his cleaver once again, this time cutting the steak into dozens of tiny little slices. He assembled the meat on the tortilla, then topped it with a nice sprinkle of cilantro. His eyes swept over the crowd, and he pointed at one of the children who had been standing beside their mother.

“Are you hungry?”

The mom glanced at Arek, then nudged her child forward encouragingly. The small boy hesitantly walked up to Arek. The orc smiled without showing his teeth to avoid scaring the kid. He set the tortilla down in the boy’s hands.

The boy grabbed it and dashed back to his mother before turning around and watching Arek warily. The orc just returned his attention to the food, making several more tortillas. He heard the kid take a bite of the food and let out a small gasp.

“Anyone else hungry?” Arek asked, nodding down at the tortillas forming a pile before him. “One per person, for now.”

The mom and her other kid walked forward first, each grabbing one.

She gave Arek a small nod. “Thank you.”

Arek just shrugged. The rest of the crowd, realizing that the food was disappearing in front of them, surged forward. However, they didn’t swarm the table.

The men and women of Red Mount formed a line without a word, all waiting their turn to get a hot meal. Arek raised an eyebrow but was happy to oblige them. It only took a few minutes for him to burn through all the meat he’d prepared. There were still a good number of tortillas remaining.

Everyone who had gotten food was eating, looks of wonder and relief crossing their faces. The man standing in line was unable to hide his disappointed frown as he realized that Arek had run out of meat.

“It’s okay,” the man sighed, spotting Arek watching him. “You did a lot already. There’s no way you can feed everyone. Everything helps, and we’ve lived through the horde already. It won’t kill me to wait a bit longer.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it falls on deaf ears,” Arek said, nodding towards the crowd.

Everyone turned as Malissa emerged, carrying several huge pieces of meat in her arms.

“I hope you’re all hungry,” Arek said, his lips curling up in a grin.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Arek’s cleaver flashed, slicing the huge chunks of meat faster than the eye could follow. He transferred them into the bowl of lime juice to allow them to marinate as soon as he finished. People watched eagerly as the minutes ticked by.

When they were ready, Arek took them out of the juice, which had almost been completely soaked up. He held his hands over the meat, drawing the moisture out with another gentle yellow glow, and then tossed them into the spice mixture in another mixing bowl. He rubbed it in thoroughly and put the meat into his roaring wok once he was done.

Someone cleared their throat behind Arek. The orc turned to see the large man that had loaned him his tables. The man had a small cloth sack in his hands. He glanced at the roaring fire, then pointedly looked away from it and handed Arek the bag.

Arek took it and peered inside. It was full of red onions. The orc blinked and the man gave him a small grin.

“I don’t have much left, but nobody wants to eat raw onion on its own. I think you can put this to better use.”

“Thank you,” Arek said, a smile crossing his lips. “This will help a lot.”

The man just nodded. He took a step back and joined the crowd. Arek glanced at his cleaver, which was still covered in blood from the wyrm meat. A small frown crossed his face and he reached into his bag.

Arek shuffled around for a few moments before pulling out a knife. It hadn’t been used recently, but it was better than using a bloody cleaver. He set the onions on the table and diced them into tiny chunks, pausing to turn the steak over midway through.

Once the meat had finished cooking, Arek warmed another two dozen tortillas in the wok. He chopped the steak into bite-sized pieces and laid it within the tortillas. He then topped them with cilantro and red onions before handing them out to the crowd.

If anything, the line growing in front of Arek grew longer as the smell of delicious food stretched further into the surrounding city—along with word of what he was doing. The small crowd had broken the double digits and was pushing on one hundred with no signs of stopping.

Ming and Malissa emerged from the outer city, both carrying large piles of carved meat in their hands. The two women set it down on the table that Arek indicated. Ming reached into the pouch at her side, revealing several limes and an orange.

“Do you need help cooking?” Malissa asked, glancing out at the huge crowd. “It might be growing faster than you can cook.”

“We need more meat,” Arek said, shaking his head, “and flour as well. I’m almost out of tortillas. If we can’t get more flour, the dish won’t be complete. Of course, we can still feed people with just the meat, but it would be better if we had the whole thing. We want to take them away from the present, and a reminder that we can’t find the proper ingredients would weaken that fantasy.”

“We’re on it,” Ming said, darting off.

Malissa gave Arek a small nod and followed after her. The orc returned his attention to the new meat, repeating the preparation process and placing as much as he could within the bowl of lime juice. He carved a few of the new citrus fruits that Ming had brought and squeezed them into the bowl, refilling it.

Arek heard a thunk off to the left of his fire. The man from the bar had brought out another table and set it on the other side of Arek’s cooking station. He returned to his tavern and came back out a few minutes later with several mixing bowls and a large knife.

The man wordlessly took one of the unprepared cuts of meat off Arek’s table and brought it over to his own. With five powerful slices, he cut it into strips. The man picked up one of the mixing bowls and looked over at Arek. A smile crossed the orc’s face. He tossed the man the remaining two limes.

“Thanks,” Arek said.

“No, thank you,” he replied, pulling out a new knife and slicing the limes in half before squeezing them into his bowl. He put the cuts of meat in as well and turned to Arek. “What’s your name?”

“Arek. Yours?”

“Vinny. Arek, am I right in assuming that those women will be bringing more wyrm meat?”

“Absolutely,” Arek replied. “And flour as well. They’ll find some.”

“Then please give me a moment. I’ll return shortly.” The large man slipped off into the crowd before Arek could respond.

The orc shrugged. A few minutes passed and he took the meat out of the marinade, drying it with magic again before rubbing the spice mixture in and tossing it into the wok. Just as he was about to flip it, murmurs rose from the crowd.

Vinny appeared, followed by eight other men and women. All of them carried large pans or woks. They gathered around Arek, taking the unused broken tables and pulling them a short distance away.

The group smashed several of them, forming three new piles of firewood. Then they quickly grabbed what meat remained on Arek’s table and brought it to their own to begin preparing it.

Several of them revealed ingredients from extradimensional bags. Within moments, they had enough oil and citrus to begin the preparation.

“I don’t suppose you mind making more of your spice mixture?” Vinny asked, giving Arek a coy smile.

“No, I don’t think I would,” Arek said, reaching into his bandolier and grabbing several vials. A line of strength appeared in Arek’s weary posture as he demonstrated the ratios of the spice mix, using up almost all his spices to put some in everyone’s bowls.

With the new posse of chefs, the rate that the food came out multiplied. Ming and Malissa were barely able to keep up with the speed that they could cook. Everyone worked throughout the day as the lines before them only grew longer and longer.

They were all still cooking by the time that the sun had dipped below the horizon. Some people had come back for seconds, but the distraught and lost expressions that had been present all over the townsfolk had started to fade.

Arek had used up the last of his spices several hours ago. Ming had managed to find some replacements in a desecrated tavern, but those had run out as well. He rocked back, his arms aching and his back sore.

The crowd around them was massive, but the line for food had finally shrunk into the single digits. He wearily handed off the last taco and the other chefs finished up what remained on their tables as well.

Several moments of silence passed through the crowd. Ming and Malissa hadn’t left after their last trip, seeing that they’d finally gotten enough food to feed everyone. Ming had personally eaten ten of the tacos, and Malissa had scarfed down a few herself.

They’d found Belmont in the healers’ tent and forced the man to pause from his work long enough to eat two. They finally managed to drag him out of the tent once he’d spent so much of his power that he could barely stand on his own. He stood beside Malissa, his arm looped over her shoulder and his eyelids heavy.

Arek set about wiping his wok and cleaver down with a rag, a weary smile on his face.

“You’ve done a good thing today,” Vinny said, clapping Arek on the shoulder. “And you put what remained of my tables to good use.”

“It was a team effort,” Arek replied with a weary smile.

Ming looked sadly at the dying campfires and licked her lips. Malissa patted her on the shoulder and the small mage let out a grumble. Rovin stepped out from within the crowd, a small smile on his aged face.

He’d had a taco himself, but he and the rest of the council had waited until everyone had gotten at least one serving before allowing themselves to partake. In fact, the only people that hadn’t eaten anything were from Avenguard.

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Rovin said, looking at each of the Happy Sunflowers in turn. “I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that your actions have saved Red Mount in more ways than one. You’ve gone far beyond the call of duty for a group of your level. We may not allow the adventurer’s guild within the city, but we will report your actions. I’m certain they’ll reward you sufficiently, as they will to every brave group that fought tooth and nail to keep the people of Red Mount alive.”

“We’re glad we could help,” Malissa said. “I take it that Avenguard was able to clean everything else up?”

“Indeed,” Rovin said. “They just returned from clearing out the dungeon. If you’ve still got the energy, they’d like to meet with you.”

Everyone glanced at Ming, who was still in her disguise. Her hands clenched at her side. Rovin’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing. After a moment, Ming’s body relaxed and she gave a jerky nod.

“We’ll come,” Arek said, putting the rag and his cookware away. He grabbed his travel pack and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ve just got to help put away what remains of these tables.”

“It’s fine,” Vinny said. “We’ll take care of it, Arek.”

The human chef extended his hand. Arek smiled and shook it once. He exchanged nods of mutual respect with the other chefs. The four of them then followed Rovin across the square and into the council building.

A large wooden table had been set up at the back of the room, behind the chairs the council normally sat in. All four members of Avenguard sat on one side of the table beside two of the other council members.

Arek sat down in the middle, with Malissa on his left. Ming and Belmont sat down to his right, and Rovin took his place at the head of the table. The two groups watched each other silently for a moment.

“The Happy Sunflowers,” Ox said, curiosity in his voice. “F-ranked team. And yet, from everything we can gather, you were useful in stopping a monster horde.”

“That’s us,” Arek said, nodding slightly. “We’re just glad that the losses were limited to what they were, although I wish they were less. Is there anything in particular you’d like us to explain?”

“Rovin has already gone over a lot of it. I’d just like to know how you were able to avert a horde. The strategy you used—breaking the wall to ensure that they entered from a specific spot… I never would have thought of it. Do you have a tactician amongst you?”

“Belmont has experience fighting against monster hordes,” Malissa said. “We just followed his suggestions.”

Ash leaned over and whispered something into Ox’s ear. The man’s eyebrows rose and his gaze flicked to Arek. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. The man leaned forward over the table, resting his chin in his hands.

“Interesting. You know, it’s been quite difficult to get information on the four of you,” Ox said in a conversational tone. “We sent word to Riverfall, but Magus blocked our inquiry. I wonder why that could be.”

“I don’t think that’s relevant to the situation,” Malissa said carefully.

“Ah, but I think it is,” Ox said.

Ash and Ice bristled on either side of him. However, Null didn’t even glance up from beneath his hat. As far as Arek could tell, the man was asleep.

“Please behave yourselves,” Rovin said, a frown crossing his face. “You all just saved our town. I would appreciate it if you didn’t kill each other immediately after.”

“Each other?” Ash asked, snorting. “It wouldn’t take long at all.”

Ox held a hand up, and her mouth snapped shut. He pierced all of them with his cold glare, spending the most time on Arek.

“Excuse my teammate. She’s easily excited, and today has been very high adrenaline. You are not in trouble by any means. In fact, you made our job a lot easier. It would have been crushing to arrive and discover that Red Mount had already fallen. Would you accompany us back to Riverfall on the morrow? We would like to escort you to the adventurer’s guild there. We believe a promotion is more than in order. This will be offered to all the participating groups, of course.”

“Thank you for your generous offer,” Arek said. “However, I’m afraid we’ve got other plans. I think we’ll have to refuse.”

Ox’s gaze narrowed. “Why would you do that? What could be more important than receiving a promotion? It is a great honor. Especially for a team as misclassed as yours. From what Rovin has said, almost every team below C rank was severely injured or killed—yet you played a significant role in saving the city.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we didn’t hold anything off on our own,” Belmont said. “We just helped the others. Our own role was minimal, aside from planning.”

“That’s not what we heard from the town,” Ash said. “There are numerous reports of a man clad in glowing green armor bounding across the rooftops, slaughtering monsters with every stroke of his massive blade. In addition, a lone woman matching your appearance lured a group of nearly one hundred wyrms away from a group of people. She was buried under them, and yet here you stand, uninjured. Need I continue?”

“We just did what anyone would have,” Arek said. “Forgive me, but I don’t understand your line of questioning. Are you accusing us of something?”

Ox let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want to be. You’ve done a service for the city. However, there have been situations where adventuring groups intentionally create issues to swoop in and fix them so they can get an easy rank up. Will you consent to examination under a Truesight Artifact, then?”

“No,” Arek said flatly. “And I will pursue action against anyone who uses one against me without permission. I’ve got a contact with a judge, so I can assure you any case brought up will be handled quickly.”

“Relax,” Ox said, holding his hands up. He shot a sharp look at Ash, who pressed her lips together and gave him a small nod of understanding. “We won’t be breaking any laws.”

“Hold on. You think we caused a monster horde?” Belmont asked, his voice going cold. “That we killed dozens, if not hundreds of guards to get a… rank?”

“People have done it before,” Ox replied. “Although, unless you’re all fantastic liars, I doubt that’s the case.”

Ash shot Ox a surprised glance, but the large man just shook his head. “Look at them, Ash. There’s no guilt or fear on their faces. These adventurers did not set off the dungeon.”

“Set off the dungeon?” Belmont parroted. “What does that mean?”

Ox reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green stone. It was smooth and shiny like a marble. Arek’s stomach knotted and he drew a sharp breath, doubling over as his vision flared with green light. When the feeling faded to a dull pressure on his chest, Arek straightened, a grimace still present on his face. Ming didn’t look like she was doing much better.

“What is that?” Arek asked, his hands tightening on his armrests.

“I was hoping you might recognize it,” Ox said, his eyes narrow. “We found it in the boss room of the dungeon. It was driving the wyverns insane and putting off so much magical energy that they were practically multiplying in front of us.”

“I have a suspicion it’s got something to do with being a Blessed One,” Arek said. “Please put that away. I don’t know what it is, but it makes me incredibly uncomfortable.”

Ox returned it to his pouch and the pressure vanished. Arek and Ming both sat up straighter.

“Blessed One?” Ox asked. “Please elaborate.”

Arek didn’t see a reason not to answer the question, especially when avoiding it would have put even more suspicion on the group. He spent a few minutes bringing Avenguard up to speed on the curse.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“So… being a Blessed One, is it rare?” Rovin asked worriedly. “I don’t want my city to descend into further chaos from insane mages duking it out in the streets.”

“I don’t know. I’ve only encountered two others with the curse. The first…” Arek cleared his throat and gave a small shrug. “And the second was in this city. He went by the name of Vint.”

“And what happened to Vint?” Ox queried.

“He ran off after Arek saved Malissa,” Belmont said. “There are dozens of guards that can verify that.”

“That is concerning,” Ox said. “I do believe that your group had nothing to do with the incident, but this stone clearly has something to do with your curse. However… I have one more question. You claim that you’re forced to fight other ones that have been cursed, correct?”

Arek nodded.

“Well, your companion is also cursed, is she not?” Ox asked, nodding at Ming. “Yet your story says that she looked straight at Vint and never attacked him. How is that possible?”

Arek’s mouth opened. Then he froze, scanning through his memories. Ox was right—she’d looked at Vint multiple times yet hadn’t attacked him once. Had his battle rage somehow influenced the curse to make it worse?

“I… don’t know,” Arek said, clenching his hands. “In the heat of battle it slipped my mind. She’s never fought another Blessed One. Maybe it has to be activated? I didn’t feel the draw at the beginning either, but it got much stronger after I killed the first Blessed One.”

“That’s possible,” Ox allowed. “Regardless, it’s something for you to consider. I don’t believe it has anything to do with the stone. However, this Vint character certainly might. I take it you fought him?”

“I did. He was strong. When I first saw him, he was tearing through the horde without any trouble at all. He actually might have been holding back when we fought.”

Arek briefly described the man’s appearance.

“Concerning,” Ox said. “We’ll keep an eye out for him. I suppose it does seem that you did nothing but assist the town. Are you certain you don’t want to accompany us back to Riverfall for your promotion?”

“We’ll pass,” Arek said. “Thanks for the offer.”

Ox sighed and shook his head. “Suit yourselves. Regardless, I promise to ensure that your group receives appropriate reward for your actions. Despite our harsh accusations, we really do want the best for the kingdom. I wish you all the best in the future, and I hope that you can become a B-ranked team. It will be interesting to see how far you can go.”

Ox stood up. Ash and Ice rose alongside him, both glaring at the Happy Sunflowers. Belmont glowered back at them. The council members rose as well. Rovin bid them farewell as the three headed back into the city.

Ox gave Arek a weary smile and prodded Null in the back.

“Wake up,” Ox said. “We’re leaving.”

Null jerked upright with a snort. He shook his head, then frowned. “Sorry. I was scrying the area. It’s clear.”

The thin mage rose to his feet as well. Then he paused, his gaze flicking to Ming. The man’s head tilted to the side. The small mage’s form flickered as the mask’s magic quailed and sputtered under the man’s inquisitive eyes.

Then it gave out. There was a moment of stunned silence as Ming and Null made eye contact.

“Ming?” Null asked, his hat tilted far enough back that Arek could see the man’s dark eyes widen in surprise.

Ming’s hands clenched at her sides. “Raun—although I suppose you go by Null now.”

Ox glanced from Ming to Null, befuddled. “Null, do you know this girl?”

“I do,” Null replied, shaking the surprise away. “This is my big sister, Ming. We haven’t spoken in years. I didn’t know what happened to her.”

“That’s because you abandoned me on the streets after I left the house to take care of you, you asshole,” Ming snapped.

Null glanced at Ox and made a sharp gesture with his hand.

“Ah,” Ox said. He gestured for the Happy Sunflowers to stand. “It looks like we should give these two some time alone to catch up. Come.”

“No,” Belmont replied, “I don’t think we will. I’m quite comfortable where I am.”

“As are we,” Arek said, nodding to Malissa.

Ox’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not our place to interfere. Null wishes to speak to his sister. This is a personal discussion that we are not privy to.”

“My group is welcome to hear anything that you have to say to me,” Ming said curtly. “There’s nothing you can say that has any value to me anyways.”

“Don’t say that,” Null said, taking his hat off and setting it on the table with a frown. “Anyone would have done what I did, Ming! We were starving to death. The Sunflare guild offered me a once-in-a-lifetime chance to master my powers and actually make something of myself. How can you blame me for that?”

“I abandoned my guild training to take care of you,” Ming snarled. “You left in the night and left me a note. I sacrificed everything I had to help you, and you didn’t even bother to say goodbye in person.”

“Look, I made a mistake, okay?” Null said. “I’ve got a high rank in the guild now. There aren’t many B-rank mages, after all. I can get you a position in the Sunflare. I’ve been looking for you for the last five years. I’m allowed to invite a single person to the guild. You’ll never have to work again.”

“And abandon my friends like you abandoned me?” Ming asked, her eyes narrow. “I’ll pass, Null. You’ve already made it clear what matters to you. My friends are worth more than your money and power ever will be.”

“Think about it, Ming! Your talent is wasted on an F-ranked group. If you wanted, I could get you that training that you lost. You could become a B-rank mage, just like me!”

“I don’t want to be anything like you,” Ming replied. “I’m done here, Null. Ox said you were leaving, so get on with it.”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” Null said, his brow darkening. “I’m your brother!”

“I don’t have a brother.”

Belmont rose behind Ming, his staff held protectively at his side. “You’ve said enough,” he told Null. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. We’ll be leaving.”

“Be silent,” Null snapped. “Ming is my sister. You weak fools are holding her back. She’d be better off without the lot of you.”

The air around Ming crackled with blue light. Her hair shifted and started to float as fury contorted the small girl’s features. “Don’t threaten my team.”

“And now you throw a temper tantrum,” Null said, throwing his hands up into the air. “You’re emotionally unstable, Ming. I’m sorry for leaving you, but now is when I can repay you. You deserve better than this. I mean, look at your companions. You’re traveling with an orc!”

“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Malissa said. She stepped around Arek and put a hand on Ming’s shoulder.

“I disagree,” Null said. Purple lightening crackled to life around him. “I think I need to teach some upstart adventurers what it means to get involved with family business.”

“Null, that’s enough,” Ox said, his brow darkening. “It’s understandable that you feel strongly about this, but I can’t have you attacking random people. Release your magic.”

The thin mage gritted his teeth. The magic around him slowly faded, and he sent the Happy Sunflowers a hateful look.

“Fine,” Null snapped, “waste your life with these worthless idiots. You don’t know what you’re passing up on, Ming. If you insist on associating with these… creatures, then so be it. Just don’t come crying to me when you regret your decision.”

Null strode past them. Arek met his hateful glare and bared his teeth slightly, allowing a trickle of his battle lust to escape. The mage turned away quickly and stormed past Ox.

After one final glance at the Happy Sunflowers, Ox turned and followed him. The twin sisters trailed after the man.

“That went well,” Arek said dryly.

“Could have gone worse,” Malissa pointed out. “Nobody blew each other up. I think we can count that as a win.”

“I’ll have to look more into them,” Belmont said, a frown crossing his weary face. “Prepare traps appropriate for their abilities. We can’t take them on a fair playing field.”

“What makes you so certain we’re going to fight them?” Arek asked. “They did just leave, you know.”

“You can never be too prepared,” Belmont replied through a yawn. He glanced at Ming, who was still staring at where Null had been standing with her hands clenched.

Malissa put a hand on Ming’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Ming. If you need to talk, we’re here.”

“Thanks,” Ming said, reaching up and taking the mask off her face. She handed it to Arek, who returned it to his travel bag. “I just can’t believe how aggravating he is. How can he abandon me and then expect me to do the same thing to you guys? It’s like he doesn’t care about anyone at all.”

“You can’t fix everyone,” Arek said, shrugging. “Sometimes people aren’t who we want them to be. It’s out of your control. But that doesn’t mean you have to tolerate them. There’s nothing wrong with cutting people like that out of your life. You already know we’ll support you with whatever you choose.”

Belmont and Malissa nodded.

Ming gave them a small smile. “Thanks guys. I think I’m totally spent.”

“As am I,” Belmont said. “We should get some rest. I don’t know how much more we can reasonably do for Red Mount, but we can find out tomorrow.”

The four of them made their way out of the council building, ignoring the inquisitive gazes of the council members and their guards as they left. None of them were particularly eager to venture too far out into the ruined city, so they set up their tents in a small square next to several dozen other people who had the same idea.

Arek undressed and lay back in his tent. He stared up at the dark canvas above him, thoughts running amok through his mind. Red Mount had brought more questions than he’d thought possible. Vint, Ming’s status as a Blessed One, Null, and even his own magic.

The orc let out a weary sigh. He rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind.

“With some luck, this’ll count for one of the many good deeds I have to get around to doing this year,” Arek grumbled to himself. A few minutes later, he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

The following morning came faster than any of them would have preferred. Sunlight had warmed the inside of Arek’s tent, making the call of sleep all the more enticing. He yawned and rolled to his feet, pulling his bandoliers on and donning his travel pack.

He spent several minutes taking the tent down, then shoved it into his travel pack. He sat down by the side of a small building as he waited for the rest of the Happy Sunflowers to wake. Vint’s face flashed through the orc’s mind and his eyes narrowed.

The man had put Arek on edge. His strange difference in combat ability, paired with his unique abilities, was unsettling. Arek wasn’t certain if the man had any relation to the disaster that had befallen Red Mount, but it clearly had some association with the Blessed One curse.

Arek massaged his forehead. When had life suddenly gotten so complicated? Opening a restaurant was starting to seem like more and more of a distant dream.

Ming’s tent rustled and the small mage emerged from within it. She quickly packed her belongings up into her extradimensional bag and wandered over to sit down beside Arek. They didn’t say anything for several moments.

“Do you need to talk about—”

“Am I a terrible person?” Ming asked.

Arek blinked. “What?”

“People are supposed to love their family, aren’t they?” Ming asked, looking down at her hands. “I’m abandoning him again.”

“You’re far from terrible, Ming,” Arek said. “It’s more like he’s abandoning you than anything else. If you love someone, you don’t try to tear their world apart and force them to do what you want. Even if we pretend that Null is in the right—which he isn’t—it doesn’t matter. You’re a person, not a possession. You said that you wanted to stay with your team, but he completely ignored your own desires in favor of his own.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” Ming asked.

“Whatever you want. We’re here to help you, but this is your decision to make. To be honest, I’m not well qualified to speak on the subject. I’ve never had siblings, and orc society had a very different method of raising children. I never knew my birth parents. All children are treated equally and raised by the entire tribe. In a way, everyone I knew was my sibling.”

“And then Vell killed them,” Ming said, her face falling. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Arek said. “It was a long time ago. However, there is one piece of advice that I can offer: blood does not make a family.”

Ming mulled over Arek’s words for several minutes. The rest of the Happy Sunflowers awoke, with Malissa packing her tent up and joining them a short while before Belmont did the same.

“So… what now?” Ming asked, rubbing her hands together and standing up. “Breakfast?”

“We can offer, but there might be other things the city needs help with more,” Arek said. “We should probably find Rovin and see if there’s anything else we can do to help.”

“That’s as good an idea as any,” Malissa agreed.

Belmont nodded in agreement, so the group set off towards the council building once again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

They found the three council members in their seats, avidly discussing something over a small crystal. Rovin glanced up as they approached. The man’s eyes had deep bags under them, and he looked a hair’s breadth away from falling asleep.

“Ah. I’m sorry about that meeting,” Rovin said wearily, rubbing his forehead. “I had no idea that your groups had history with each other.”

“It’s fine,” Malissa said, shrugging. “You had no way to, and no serious harm came of it. We came to find out if there’s anything else we can do for you.”

“You’ve already done much,” Lucille said. She didn’t look to be in much better shape than Rovin. “And the Avenguard have cleared out all the monsters in the surrounding area. Anything that does remain is weak enough for the guards to take care of it.”

“So Red Mount will be okay?” Belmont asked.

“We’ve got some problems we need to sort out,” Rovin said, waggling a hand. “It isn’t smooth sailing, but with all things considered, we’re in a rather good spot. We’ve been going through the food supplies that the wyrms haven’t ruined. We’ve got enough to last us for a week as long as everyone is conservative. We’ve already sent teams to the local villages requesting aid, and our supply lines should be working again soon. So, in short, we should be fine thanks to everyone’s efforts.”

The Happy Sunflowers exchanged a glance. A small smile passed across Rovin’s face. “I suppose it’s time for the four of you to move on, isn’t it? Most of the other teams are heading back with Ox.”

“We were meant to lay low,” Arek said, scratching the back of his head. “We’ve got some enemies that we’re trying to avoid. The Avenguard is going to report on what happened here, and that means our location is going to be public knowledge.”

“I see,” Rovin said. “In that case, we will be limited with any of the information that we pass on to those that come seeking your name. I fear I will not be able to silence the entire city, but I believe many of our citizens will be more than happy to avoid mentioning when you left or where you headed.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Belmont said. “There aren’t any more seriously injured people, are there?”

“Thankfully not,” Rovin said, laughing. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I implore you to return to Red Mount once we’ve rebuilt. Ah… before you leave, let me get you something. It would be a shame to send you away without some sort of assistance. If you are seeking to hide…”

Rovin glanced at Valea. She raised an eyebrow but nodded. The graying woman pushed herself out of her chair and walked to the back of the council building. A guard opened a heavy door and she stepped inside.

A few minutes later, she reemerged holding a palm-sized tube. It was intricately decorated with red and gold designs of dragons and great beasts. A thick layer of dust covered the tube. Valea brushed it off, grimacing as dust flew around her, and handed it to Rovin.

“This will give you safe passage into the Floating Cities,” Rovin said in a hushed tone. He discreetly passed it to Arek. “If you wish to hide away from prying eyes, there are few places better to do it. And it doesn’t hurt that the Floating Cities are one of the greatest vacation spots in the entire kingdom.”

The tube was heavier than the orc had expected. He raised his eyebrows and slipped it into his pack.

“We will tell nobody that you have passage to the cities,” Valea said in a hushed tone. “Whether you go or not is up to you. There are several entrances, but the closest one is at the base of Vorgt Mountain. I can mark it for you if you have a map.”

Arek glanced at the other members of his team. They shrugged, so he pulled the map out and handed it to the woman. She scanned over it, then pulled out one of her hairpins. She popped the top off, revealing a small point dripping with ink. She quickly pressed it to the base of an unmarked mountain on the map and capped it again.

“You never know when you’ve got to sign something quickly,” Valea said, putting the pin back into her hair with a slight smile.

Arek blew on the map and folded it back up. “Thank you for this gift. I don’t know where we’ll go next, but we shall be sure to visit both this location and Red Mount in the future, once it has rebuilt.”

“Before you go, let us give you some basic supplies,” Rovin said, beckoning over a guard. “We can spare enough for a few people.”

He muttered something into the man’s ear. The guard nodded and jogged out of the building. They waited silently for a few minutes until the man returned, carrying a small bag of food. The guard handed it to Malissa, then returned to his station.

“Some of that needs to be kept chilled, but I believe you have a Bag of Colding,” Rovin said.

“We do,” Malissa said. “Thank you very much for this gift. Are you sure you don’t need the food?”

“We’ll be fine,” Rovin promised. “We did not give you much. Just enough to replace some of the supplies you all spent cooking for us.”

Malissa nodded and peered into the bag, pulling out all the cold ingredients and placing them into her bag before they could spoil.

“This is farewell for now, then,” Rovin said as Malissa sorted the food.

He extended a hand to Arek, who shook it carefully so as to not crush the man’s wrinkled hand. Rovin did the same with all the other Happy Sunflowers, waiting until Malissa had finished putting the food away to bid her farewell.

The other council members gave them low nods that might have been construed as bows had they been standing. The Happy Sunflowers returned the gesture, then headed out of the council building and into the dawn light.

Captain Riggs was standing at the entrance of the city when they got there. He gave them a small nod as they drew up alongside him.

“I got the feeling that you four might be heading out,” Riggs said. “I’m sure that the council has already thanked you, but I wanted to do so personally as well. I’ve done some rounds to see the damage to the city—and your plan worked, Belmont. The wyrms followed the paths we made perfectly. You saved more lives than I can count.”

Belmont blinked, seemingly at a loss for words for once. The armored man’s hands twitched at his sides, and he gave the captain a slight nod. “I am glad to have been of service.”

“You were more than that. All of you were. I apologize for my doubt in the beginning of the plan. The rest of the guards wanted to bid you all farewell too, but I ordered them to remain behind. We don’t need to tell the whole city you’re leaving, after all.”

“That’s appreciated,” Arek said with a small grin. “Please let them know we were pleased to fulfill our duty as adventurers, and we hope that such an event never befalls Red Mount again.”

“I will pass your words along,” Riggs promised. “Travel safe, friends of Red Mount. You will always have sanctuary here, even if the city is little more than rubble now.”

Riggs gave them a firm nod and walked back into the city. The Happy Sunflowers watched him go, then turned and headed back into the forest surrounding them.

No further monsters emerged from the shadows on their way back down. Vorgt Mountain was on the opposite side of Red Mount. According to the map, the forest on this side of the mountain extended significantly farther than it did on the other side.

The fog that had hounded them on the way up to Red Mount was gone. Without it, the forest was significantly easier to traverse. Small gaps in the trees allowed faint beams of light through, illuminating the damp floor.

The chirp of crickets rose up to greet them at night, and Arek spotted several small animals fleeing their approach. The unsettling amounts of mana had faded as well. Malissa managed to catch several rabbits, and she helped Arek cook them over a small campfire that night.

Their trek through the forest lasted nearly two weeks. However, their rations were practically untouched by the time that the forest started thinning out. In fact, Arek guessed they had enough fresh meat stored in Malissa’s Bag of Colding to last them a week.

The forest came to an abrupt end in a rocky, windswept field. It marked the halfway point between Red Mount and the Vorgt Mountain. Faint sunlight peeked down at them through the dense gray clouds overhead.

Arek sat down on a large rock and drew in a deep breath. “It’s good to be out of the forest. Orcs aren’t meant to be in such tight spaces.”

“Neither are humans,” Belmont grumbled, pulling a leaf off one of his armor spikes. “But now we encounter a new dilemma. Where do we go? We could take Rovin up on his offer and go to the Floating Cities. It’s unlikely the Howler guild will expect us to find a way into the Floating Cities, and who knows if they even have any influence there.”

“Well, what’s the alternative?” Malissa asked. “We can hardly return to Riverfall right now. It’s just asking for trouble at this point.”

“We should go wherever we can get good food,” Ming suggested. “And maybe somewhere that my brother won’t find me.”

“I know little of the Floating Cities,” Arek said, rubbing the back of his head, “but they do sound interesting. I wouldn’t be opposed to going there. I highly doubt Rovin is going to sell us out after everything we’ve done for him.”

“They’re likely no more unsafe than any of our alternatives,” Belmont mused. “I believe we can trust Rovin.”

“I agree with that, although I never expected Belmont to be the one who said it,” Malissa said. “I’m also for going to the Floating Cities. I’ve heard they’re a beautiful vacation spot, and I think we could all do with a nice change of pace. It’s not like we don’t have some money to spend anyways.”

Ming and Belmont’s eyes both lit up at the same time.

“I can eat flying food!” Ming exclaimed.

“All food is flying if you throw it,” Arek pointed out.

Ming tilted her head, considering the orc’s words for a few moments.

Malissa shot her a pointed look. “Don’t even think about it. We’re not going to waste food throwing it around.”

“But what if that makes it taste better?” Ming asked. “Flying is cool.”

“I don’t think lobbing something really hard is going to make it taste better,” Arek said. “But that doesn’t mean that the Floating Cities don’t have really good food. Malissa is right. We need a change of scenery. A big one.”

Ming let out a sigh and gave them a nod. “Fine. But if there’s any flying food, I get first dibs on it.”

They set back off across the rocky plains, following the map as best as they could. There weren’t many significant landmarks to reference aside from the massive mountains surrounding them.

Another week passed uneventfully. From what they could tell, the rocky plains were almost completely barren. The extra food from the forest was first to go, and they were chewing on jerky by the time Vorgt Mountain grew close enough for them to see the base.

The marking that Valea had put on the map directed them to a small outcropping near the edge of the mountain. It wasn’t hard to spot. A ring of stones the size of massive houses jutted out in all angles a short distance from the mountain.

At the center of the ring was a large, flat circle that had a massive rune carved into it. The Happy Sunflowers exchanged glances as they approached it.

“I’m pretty sure I could have found this without the help,” Arek muttered, craning his head back to look up at the top of one of the stones. As far as he could tell, there was no trace of any floating city.

The four of them walked up through some of the gaps between the massive stones and on top of the rune within them.

Arek squinted up at the sky, then shrugged. “Anyone see a city?”

“Maybe you need the thing Rovin gave us,” Belmont suggested. “It could be a key of some sort.”

Arek took the metal tube out from his travel pack. He held it aloft, then spun in a slow circle. When nothing happened, the orc tapped it on the rune on the ground beneath them. He frowned and stood back up, giving the party a shrug.

“Let me try,” Malissa said. Arek handed the tube to her, and she waved it around for a few minutes to similar results.

“Does it open?” Belmont asked.

Malissa peered at it. She twisted the top in both directions, gritting her teeth and narrowing her eyes in concentration as she tried to unscrew it. The tube didn’t budge.

“I don’t think so,” Malissa said. “And if it does, I don’t think I’m strong enough to get it open.”

Ming pulled out a strip of jerky and sat down on her bundle of staves, chewing thoughtfully as the rest of her team gathered around the tube.

“This is probably something we should have asked about before we got here,” Arek said, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Maybe it needs magic to activate?”

He peered closer at the intricate golden designs covering the tube. Two intertwined dragons twisted up the sides, curls of swirling fire streaming off their mouths and claws. He ran his finger along the embossed surface.

The golden caps on either end of the tube had thin seams at the bottom. However, when Arek tried to twist them, they showed no signs of giving way. The orc stopped before he broke something and drummed his fingers on his chin.

“Is it some sort of puzzle?” he wondered aloud. “That seems like a lot of work just to get entrance to a city. I thought this tube was supposed to take care of it, not just give us more problems.”

Ming polished off her jerky and stood back up. She wandered over to them and reached up for the tube. Arek shrugged and handed it to her. The small mage turned it over in her hand, leaving some grease from her food on the cap.

“What if it needs some magic?” Ming asked. A small blue orb of pure magic formed in her free hand. Before anyone could say anything, she brought it close to the tube. The metal started to rattle slightly.

“Huh,” Arek said. “That actually looks like it’s doing something.”

Ming brought the orb of pure energy closer. The dragons on the side of the red metal twitched. Then they abruptly shifted, twirling around the tube faster and faster until they became a blur of light. A beam of brilliant gold energy erupted up from Ming, launching into the sky and piercing through the clouds.

Belmont summoned a shield around Ming, but it did nothing to stop the gold light. Ming let go of the tube, but it stayed suspended in the air before them. The rune on the ground beneath them started to rumble. Air crackled and sparked as molten gold energy filled the cracks in the ground beneath them. A loud droning noise filled the air, making it almost impossible to think.

“Is this supposed to happen?” Malissa yelled over the din.

“I don’t know!” Ming yelled back. “But I think I’m getting lighter!”

Ming’s bundle of staves twitched. It started to slowly rise into the air, spinning and turning as it went. Ming’s eyes widened and she lunged for it, but they danced right past her hands and into the sky.

“My toys are getting abducted!”

Ming tensed her legs and leapt into the air. She sailed past the rest of the group, slamming into the cloth bundle and letting out a triumphant cheer. And then she kept going, rising further and further into the air.

“Ming! Get back down here!” Belmont yelled. “You’re flying away!”

“I don’t think she’s doing it,” Malissa said.

Her own feet were starting to float off the ground as well. She made to say something else, but Arek never got to hear it. The silk-laden woman launched into the sky, her words vanishing into the howling wind.

Arek and Belmont started to rise a few moments later. Arek reached out and snagged the metal tube, but it was no longer frozen in place. Wind rushed past his face and forced his mouth open as he launched into the sky.

The orc’s chef hat started to slip off his head. His hand shot out and grabbed it right before it took flight without him, but that was the extent of what he could do. Arek squinted to protect himself from the slicing winds and let the spell carry him off.

They rose higher and higher into the air, the golden light shimmering around them not fading in the slightest. Arek punched a hole through a cloud and sputtered as his clothes grew damp and soggy.

It was all he could do to hold onto both the tube and his hat. The orc caught a glimpse of Belmont tumbling past him, and a flash of what might have been Ming reclining on her back with her hands behind her head in the air above them. Arek squeezed his eyes shut, trying to fight off the encroaching dizziness.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Arek’s stomach rose up into his throat, and he nearly threw up at all the tumbling and tossing he was going through. Then, abruptly, he slowed. Arek cracked one eye open. He hung in the gentle blue sky, vast clouds floating beneath him.

Great mountaintops poked through the white fluff beneath him, scoring thin lines through it. In the distance, Arek could vaguely make out Red Mount and the massive forest that surrounded it.

Ming floated past him, chewing on a strip of jerky. Arek blinked, finally opening both eyes. It was much colder than he’d expected it to be this high in the air. He wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered.

A heavy shadow fell over them, decreasing the temperature even further as the sun’s warm glow vanished. Arek frowned and looked up, but his complaints died on his lips. Five massive islands, each easily the size of Red Mount, floated behind them.

Gold-and-white walls rose up over the edge of the islands, and towering spires reached farther still into the heavens. Glints of shimmering blue gemstones glittered all along the base of the islands.

A small brown blur swung over the edge of the nearest island, unravelling until it came to a stop directly before Arek. It was a thick rope with a large bronze bar connected to the end. Three more blurs sailed down after it, each one landing before a Happy Sunflower.

“You think these are the Floating Cities?” Belmont asked, eyeing the rope suspiciously.

“Frankly, I don’t care,” Arek replied, grabbing the bronze handle. “Anything to get me out of the air. I don’t fancy falling to my death.”

“You’ll still be on the air,” Ming pointed out, grabbing one of the bars with one hand as she dug through her bag for another strip of jerky with her other. “Just on an island as well.”

“I suppose it would be strange for there to be two different Floating Cities,” Belmont admitted, pulling himself close to his own rope. Malissa did the same.

After a few moments, Arek felt the rope grow taut. It started to coil back up, dragging him towards the top of the islands. The orc kept his hands tightly wrapped around the handle just in case the spell failed.

It took several minutes for the ropes to fully pull the group all the way up. The small blue twinkles that Arek had spotted were actually massive gems the size of his head. It was difficult to comprehend exactly how such a large piece of land could remain in the air indefinitely.

The rope pulled Arek over the edge of the rock and onto soft grass. Arek crawled several feet forward across the ground before rolling over and letting out a relieved sigh. The other members of the party quickly moved away from the edge of the island as well, albeit slightly less dramatically.

“Orcs are not meant to fly,” Arek declared.

“Then why visit the Floating Cities?” a pleasant male voice asked, humor lightening his tone. “That’s kind of our main attraction.”

Belmont’s hand shot to his staff, but after a moment, he slowly lowered it with a look of sheer concentration on his face. He swallowed and pressed his lips together so hard that they went white. With stiff and jerky movements, Belmont turned away from whoever had spoken and walked up to Arek.

The man extended a gauntleted hand and helped Arek to his feet. They then both turned to face the voice again.

A young man with tanned skin and short, dark hair stood before them wearing a yellow toga. Behind him were the towering white-and-gold walls of a huge city. It glimmered as the sunlight reflected off the polished marble. Blue mosaic patterns danced throughout the stone, almost as if an ocean had been trapped within it. The tallest of the city’s spires rose so far up into the sky that Arek couldn’t even see the top.

The man standing before them gave them a relaxing smile and raised his hand in greeting. “Welcome to the Floating Cities, esteemed travelers. I take it that this is your first visit here?”

“It is,” Arek said, vainly attempting to brush some of the grass stains off himself. The orc gave up and pulled his hat back onto his head before holding out the metal tube that Rovin had given them. “We didn’t exactly know how to use this thing.”

“You twist the top and the bottom at the same time in opposite directions,” the man said, laughing. “Although whatever you did clearly worked as well. Either way, you’ve arrived now. That’s what matters.”

“Can we get food? Or ingredients so Arek can make food?” Ming asked, hiding a piece of half-eaten jerky behind her back.

“You’re welcome to explore the islands shortly,” the man replied. “There are just a few ground rules that I have to go over first. Before we get started, my name is Trevor. I’ll be your assigned guide for your stay on the islands. Could I ask for the name of your group? It’s only for our own purposes and will not be shared with anyone else.”

“We’re the Happy Sunflowers,” Malissa said. “F-ranked adventuring team.”

“And you got passage to the islands?” Trevor’s eyebrows rose. “You must be either very influential or very successful. I think you might be the lowest-ranked team to ever set foot in the Floating Cities.”

“Thanks,” Arek said dryly.

“Of course,” Trevor replied with an award-winning grin. “Now, for the rules. First—fighting is strictly prohibited. We don’t care what the reason is or who you are. If you engage in combat of any sort, you will be forcefully removed from the islands. Second, you must not throw anything off the edge of the islands. It can hit people far below us, killing them. And third, the Floating Cities are composed of five different cities. Each have their own laws, although they’re nothing that should bother you. You may find them in the town squares. These laws must all be followed. Would anyone like clarification on those rules?”

“I think we’re good,” Belmont said slowly. “You said we can find them in the town square?”

“I’d be happy to lead you there,” Trevor said. “It’s on the way that I’ll be going anyways. Come along and prepare to be entertained. I just hope you brought some cash with you. You’re going to want it.”

Trevor gestured for them to follow him and set off towards the massive walls before them. The Happy Sunflowers brushed the last of the dirt off themselves and followed after the man.

A massive moat stretched around the base of the wall. It was full of glittering blue water that looked fresh enough to drink. A beautiful stone drawbridge stretched across it, leading to the open gates of the city.

“How do you raise the drawbridge?” Belmont asked as Trevor led them across it.

“We don’t,” Trevor replied. “It’s mostly for aesthetics. The First City hasn’t been in a war in many, many years. If someone was foolish enough to attack—well, we’ve got a fair number of agreements with powerful cities and adventuring parties. Let’s just say that it would go very badly for the aggressor.”

There were no guards at the gate as they crossed through it. The inside of the city was just as beautiful as the walls. Ornate houses that could have passed as works of art lined the great street that led straight into the city’s heart.

Thick marble pillars held aloft carved roofs that glistened in the sun. Rows of well-trimmed plants lined the street, all lined with succulent yellow fruits the size of Arek’s palm. A sweet scent reminiscent of honey permeated the air.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Trevor asked, pausing for a moment before setting back off down the road. Even the stone beneath their feet looked like it had been polished.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Arek said. “What are the fruit trees?”

“Mangos,” Trevor replied. “You’re welcome to try one, but don’t eat too many. We want to leave some for everyone, after all.”

“Are they free?” Belmont asked, eyeing one of the succulent fruits.

“Absolutely. It’s covered in the package,” Trevor replied, nodding at the metal tube in Arek’s hand.

“Package?” Malissa asked.

“Of course. That metal key entitles you all to a one-week stay within the Floating Cities,” Trevor said. “It’s not cheap to get one, so I imagine it was gifted to you. A princely gift, if I do say so myself. Much of what you’ll find in the city will be complimentary, although all the shops and the auction house are not.”

The Happy Sunflowers stiffened slightly at the last sentence. Trevor plucked a mango from one of the trees and offered it to Arek, raising an eyebrow at their strange reaction. Arek took it from him with a wry grin.

“Thank you. We’ve had some less-than-ideal experiences with an auction house before,” Arek said.

“Well, I can assure you that nothing of the sort will happen here,” Trevor promised. “The Floating Cities take the auction house very seriously. Everyone here knows that any attempts to interfere with the sanctity of the process will result in a lifetime ban.”

“Maybe we’ll check it out,” Malissa said noncommittally. Trevor plucked another mango from a tree and tossed it towards Malissa.

Ming blurred through the air and grabbed it before the tall warrior could catch it. Her green eyes sparkled in excitement and she let out a victorious laugh as she darted behind Arek with her prize.

“How do we eat this?” Arek asked, examining the firm skin of the fruit in his hands. It was supple but slightly leathery.

“Like this,” Trevor replied, drawing a thin knife from his belt. He took Arek’s mango and started demonstrating how to peel it.

Ming curled her nose up at the display. She raised the mango to her mouth and took a huge bite. Her eyes lit up and she chewed as quickly as she could to make more room in her mouth before taking another bite.

Trevor’s speech paused as they all watched Ming devour the fruit, cleaning off every single bit aside from the large pit at the center. Not a scrap of edible flesh remained.

“Well, most people generally peel it, but I suppose that works as well,” Trevor said.

Ming eyed another mango but managed to control herself. Trevor finished peeling Arek’s mango and handed it back to him. It was more slippery than the orc had expected. After nearly dropping it, he lifted the fruit to his mouth and took a large bite.

An explosion of flavor flooded his mouth. The sweet, sugary fruit was difficult to describe. If anything, the closest word for it would have been tropical. There were faint hints of honey that explained the scent in the air along with pure, unadulterated freshness.

Arek polished it off in moments, licking his lips and fingers to get the last of the juice off them. The rest of the group grabbed some fruit for themselves.

“Good, aren’t they?” Trevor asked. “We have dedicated earth mages that spend most of their time ensuring that the mangos are as ripe as possible. These trees have been growing for almost twenty years.”

“They’re older than I am,” Ming grumbled.

“And they make fruit too,” Malissa teased. “Are you going to learn how to do that soon?”

“Do you think I can?” Ming wondered aloud. “Pure magic fruit. They sound tasty…”

“We can save that for later,” Belmont said. “We don’t need you practicing with pure magic while we’re here. I think the islands look fine in the sky where they are. No need to blow them up.”

Trevor chuckled. The group drew up to a large town square, where Trevor stopped before a gushing fountain twice his height. Dozens of people milled about, talking and laughing. Many of them had all sorts of street food in their hands. Massive stores lined the street around them, all displaying expensive fineries that ranged from weapons to dresses. A stone disc sat on top of a marble pedestal in front of the fountain. Trevor brought them up to it.

“This has the rules for the First City,” Trevor said. “They apply anywhere within its walls. Passage to the other cities is located at the walls. When you decide to retire for the night, head to the Singing Swan. There will be a room prepared for you. Please enjoy your stay!”

Their guide gave them a small bow and smiled. A thrum of faint magic rippled out from the man, and he vanished in a small burst of yellow light.

Belmont was the first to approach the pedestal. He examined the stone for a few moments, then shrugged. “They’re pretty basic rules. Nothing too special. Don’t rob, don’t kill, that kind of thing. I’m not sure what they’re gunning for, but this place really does seem like some sort of floating vacation city.”

“That sounds too good to be true,” Malissa muttered. “It’s probably controlled by the Howlers or something. Maybe we should leave.”

“The food is free,” Ming said. “That means they can’t be too bad.”

“That is wrong in more ways than one,” Belmont said. “But… would it really hurt to relax? That doesn’t mean we should let our guard down, but this is a rare opportunity to just enjoy ourselves. The rules of this city were very strict on fighting, so we should just be able to destress.”

Everyone blinked. They turned to stare at Belmont. He reddened and shrugged his shoulders. “What?”

“I never expected you to be the one to say that,” Malissa said. “Are you sure you didn’t get hit on the head during the fight?”

“I’m fine,” Belmont grumbled. “Just because the world is out to get me doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when we get a chance to let our hair down.”

“Your hair is too short to let down,” Ming said, frowning. “All you can do is take off your helmet.”

“It’s a figure of speech,” Belmont sighed. “Look, I think we can trust Rovin, and he gave us the passage to the city. If Malissa is getting as paranoid as I am, there’s a serious problem. It’s my job to worry about the party, not hers.”

“I think he might have a point,” Arek said, adjusting his hat. “I think this will be good for all of us. That being said… we can keep an eye out. It does seem strange that this place is so idyllic.”

“Does that mean you’re going to get ingredients and make us something to eat?” Ming asked eagerly. “Or are we going to eat at a restaurant?”

“We could drop by the Singing Swan,” Arek offered. “I’d like to see what their chefs can do. If their food is free, we might as well try it. After that, I’d love to get some ingredients and make something. Is that good with everyone else?”

“Fine with me,” Malissa said, and Belmont nodded in agreement.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Their path decided, the four set out in search of the Singing Swan. They wandered through the town, marveling at the beautiful sights and keeping one eye on Ming so that she didn’t rescue any more mangos.

It took them a short while to locate the tavern in question. It was a four-story building topped by a giant marble statue of a bird with its wings extended. They probably could have found it a lot faster had they not been so enamored with their surroundings.

Windows covered the first floor of the building, providing easy sight into the main room of the inn. Dozens of large wooden tables had been set up throughout the room. A fair number of people sat at the tables, eating and laughing. Waitresses and waiters danced between the tables, delivering dishes and occasionally stopping to chat with the patrons.

Ming impatiently tugged on Arek’s shirt. “Come on! Food is for eating, not for looking at.”

Arek chuckled and pushed the door open. The four of them stepped inside the building. The smell of freshly cooked bread and cinnamon hit Arek instantly.

A waitress darted towards them, a smile on her round face. “Welcome to the Singing Swan! Do you already have a room with us?”

“I don’t think so,” Arek said. “We just arrived and were told to come here when we were ready.”

“Of course,” the waitress said. “I’ll talk to the manager and get you all situated. I don’t think we’ve quite got your rooms ready yet, but the food is complimentary. Please sit down wherever you’d like and another waitress will be with you shortly.”

She shot off towards the left side of the room. The Happy Sunflowers exchanged a glance. All of the tables had at least one person sitting at them. After a few moments of silent debate, Ming settled the issue for them.

The small mage darted over to a table near the center of the room and hopped onto a chair beside a hulking man in platinum armor. The helm covered much of his face, casting everything but his scarred mouth in shadow. A huge bowl of stew sat on the table before him, mostly finished aside from the remains of a bread loaf.

“Hello!” Ming said cheerfully.

The man slowly turned to look down at Ming.

Belmont sighed and moved a hand to the staff at his side. “Do you think we’re about to set a record for the fastest group booted off the islands?”

“Hello yourself,” the man rumbled. “Do I know you?”

“Nope,” Ming replied. “I’m just here to eat food.”

“There are a lot of seats,” he pointed out. “Why right next to me?”

“I’d have to be next to someone. Why not you?” Ming countered. Her face scrunched up in worry. “You aren’t going to eat my food, are you?”

The man burst into laughter. “No, I’m not planning on it.”

“Ah. Then it’s fine, then,” Ming said, relaxing. She glanced over at the rest of the Happy Sunflowers and squinted at them. “What are you guys waiting for?”

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to get a table,” Arek said, chuckling as they made their way over to the table and sat down.

The armored man looked up, meeting Belmont’s gaze for a brief instant. Arek caught a flash of blood-red eyes before shadows obscured the man’s face again.

“An adventuring group, are you?” the man asked.

“We’re the Happy Sunflowers,” Ming said proudly.

“And something tells me you came up with that name.”

“Nope!” Ming said, pointing at Belmont. “Belmont did.”

Belmont flushed as the man looked back over at him. Then the man let out a chuckle. “I see. I apologize for assuming. I’ll admit that my social skills are a little rusty. It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to anyone other than the waiters and waitresses.”

“Why?” Ming asked. “You should give people food. That would make them more willing to speak with you.”

“Ming,” Malissa said, shooting her a glare.

Ming stuck her tongue out at the taller woman.

“Sage advice,” the man said. “I’ll keep it in mind. What brings the four of you to the Floating Cities?”

“Relaxation, mostly,” Malissa said. “We’re hoping to kick our feet up for a little. Have you been here long?”

“You could say that,” the man said, chuckling. “I’m Argus, by the way. I’ve already caught two of your names…”

“I’m Arek,” Arek said. He then nodded towards Malissa. “And this is Malissa.”

“A pleasure,” Argus said, but he glanced at Arek a second longer than he needed to before speaking. “If relaxation is what you’re looking for, I’m sure you’ll find it. The Floating Cities are one of the top vacation spots in the kingdom for a reason.”

“So we’ve started to gather,” Malissa said. “We’ve got a week. Any recommendations?”

“Depends on how much coin you have,” Argus said. He paused as a waitress stepped through the crowd bearing a platter stacked high with plates practically bursting with food. The woman swept around the table, setting the plates down gently before the group, then disappeared back into the crowd. “I can give some suggestions after you all eat.”

Arek looked down at the plate of stew that had been placed before him. The broth was creamy and rich, with generous chunks of juicy meat floating within it. He licked his lips and picked up the large wooden spoon, raising it to his lips and tipping it back.

The savory broth coated his throat as flavor danced across his tastebuds. The broth had been perfectly imbued with fatty meat and aromatic vegetables. It had so much flavor in it that Arek could hardly believe this was still just stew. It was like the meat within it was from an alien that didn’t exist upon the mortal plane.

“What is this?” Arek asked, his eyes widening as he took another spoonful and inspected it. “It’s positively decadent.”

“Aged wyvern steak,” Argus replied.

“No way,” Malissa said. “We had wyvern recently, and it tasted nothing like this. Granted, it was good—but nothing like whatever this meat is.”

“Ah,” Argus said, chuckling, “I assume you mean wild wyvern. The Floating Cities raise their own. They employ a special technique to ensure that the meat is marbled perfectly and the monsters don’t get too much exercise. This ensures the perfect cut of meat.”

“That’s… very impressive,” Arek said, taking another spoonful of the flavorful soup. “How do you know about this? And is it possible to buy this meat?”

“They offer tours,” Argus replied. “And you can buy it, but it isn’t cheap. A single cut often goes for several gold.”

Ming polished her soup off and smacked her lips, pushing the bowl back and scanning the room for the waitress to get another serving.

“I’m suddenly very glad this is complimentary,” Malissa said. “I’m not sure we could afford Ming sitting in this restaurant if we had to pay.”

“Indeed,” Arek said, but his words were halfhearted. He was completely concentrated on the dish before him. Arek examined the broth again, his brow furrowing in concentration. “The only special technique is the meat?”

“As far as I’m aware,” Argus said.

“But the flavor difference is so significant,” Arek muttered. “I know that there are differing qualities of steak, but this is on a different plane. I can’t even imagine what this would taste like if it was a normal steak. My own recipe wouldn’t even hold a candle to it. Can the quality of the meat really make that much of a difference?”

“Ah. I was wondering why you wore a chef hat,” Argus said. “You’re a cook?”

“I am,” Arek confirmed before taking another taste of the meal, trying to piece together what was in it. He could make out the individual vegetables and flavors in the broth, but not all of them. The decadent, rich base that pulled everything together eluded him.

“You might enjoy some of the events the city has,” Argus said. “All of our chefs guard their recipes closely, but they’re willing to share.”

“Oh?” Arek asked, tearing his gaze away from the meal and looking up at Argus with raised eyebrows.

“Every chef in the First City accepts challenges,” Argus said. “If you can put on a good showing, many chefs will share their secrets with you. You aren’t expected to beat them, of course. In fact, it wouldn’t even be possible to beat several of our chefs. But if you’re good, you have a chance at impressing them.”

“You’ve got my attention,” Arek said, licking his lips. “How do I find these chefs?”

“They prefer to take challenges in the morning, before the crowds really rush in. They don’t get challenged much anymore, so I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed to see another opportunity to show off.”

“Why don’t they get challenged?” Belmont asked, politely finishing his meal and setting his spoon down.

“Some people are just sore losers,” Argus replied with a dismissive shrug. “I wouldn’t worry about it. If you’re confident in your abilities to cook, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll have to look into it,” Arek said. “Thank you for letting me know. If all the chefs here are like this, I fear I am direly outclassed. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to learn from masters that can cook like this.”

Argus just nodded politely.

“You said you’ve been here a long time,” Ming said, glancing up at Argus. “What do you do here?”

“I’m something of a temporary employee,” Argus replied. “I help manage the Arena. We have sanctioned combat nightly, and there are some fantastic prizes for winning.”

“Interesting,” Malissa said, wiping her mouth with a napkin and setting it aside. “A temporary gig here sounds like quite the blessing. I can’t imagine living like this every day.”

“It has its perks,” Argus said with a low chuckle. He rose to his feet and inclined his head politely to the group. “I hope you’ll excuse me. I have duties to attend to. Please drop by the Arena at some point during your stay. I’ll ensure you get front-row seats.”

The large man raised his hand and strode out of the tavern, leaving the Happy Sunflowers watching his back.

“Interesting guy,” Malissa said. “Anyone else get the feeling he was hiding something?”

“You beat me to it,” Belmont said, curling his nose. “Let’s get a better understanding of the city before we start dropping by any arenas. One step at a time.”

The waitress approached the three and gave them a wide smile as she collected the finished plates from their table. “Is there anything else I can get you four?”

“I think we’re quite satisfied—that food was fantastic,” Arek said. “I would love to meet the chef. I didn’t think it was possible to make meat sing like that. The flavor was like nothing I’ve ever tasted or made before.”

“Ah,” she said, laughing. “It’s been a long time since Gernon has had a challenger. I can tell by the look in your eyes that his dry streak will end, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’ll be sure to let him know so that he can get hyped up for it, though.”

“Please do so,” Arek said eagerly. “The chance to match recipes against him would be a great honor. I must ask—do I need to provide my own ingredients? If so, could you direct me to a supplier? I’m a little low on just about everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the waitress replied, waving her hand. “It’s covered as part of the expenses for entertainment. But if you want to restock, there are several supply shops in the Market District. They’re probably closing up for the night, though.”

“That’s no problem. I’ll drop by tomorrow. Thank you for your help!”

“Of course,” she said. “Would the four of you like to retire to your rooms now? Or would you prefer to explore the night life of the Floating Cities first?”

“I think we’re good for today,” Malissa said. “We’re all pretty beat. Some beds would be fantastic. Are they really complimentary?”

“Absolutely. Please follow me and I’ll take you up to your rooms.”

The woman spun and slipped back through the tables. Arek and the others rose from their seats and followed after her. She led them up a large staircase and down well-kept hallways, stopping before a dark wooden door with the number fifteen above it.

She inserted a key into the lock and pushed the door open before pulling the key back out and handing it to Arek. “Try not to lose that. Replacement keys will cost you three silver.”

“Understood,” Arek said. The waitress stepped to the side and beckoned for them to walk inside. Arek peered inside the room and couldn’t restrain himself from letting out a small whistle.

It was very spacious. The room had four beds, one at each corner. Each had a huge mattress and was piled high with soft sheets. There were nearly a dozen paces between each bed, and all of them were accompanied by a desk.

A large window across the back wall of the room looked over one of the city streets, which was turning dark as the sun started to set. Beside it was a large wooden dresser with metal knobs and hangers for clothes. There were also two smaller wooden doors off to either side of the room, between the beds.

“There are bathrooms behind the doors,” the waitress said. “They have hot, running water. Feel free to utilize it as much as you’d like. There’s a limit, but I highly doubt four people could reach it within a week. Breakfast is also complimentary, should you choose to take it.”

She nodded at a small rope near the entrance. “Just pull this and an aide will come up to your room. It works at all hours of the day.”

“I feel like you’ve confused us for royalty,” Arek said.

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” Ming added, darting past him and throwing herself into one of the beds. “Everywhere should treat us like this. It’s nice.”

The waitress laughed. “Being humble means nothing. Have a nice night, and please enjoy your stay here!”

She stepped back, closing the door softly behind them. Belmont waited a few moments, then tried the handle. It swung open. He shrugged and closed it again, locking it.

“I’m wondering more and more just how much this thing is worth,” Arek said, pulling the metal tube out of his pack. “What exactly does this entitle us to?”

“Might be worth finding out tomorrow,” Malissa suggested, claiming the bed across from Ming’s. “After your challenge, that is. I think we might want to do that first.”

“Agreed,” Arek said, setting his pack to the side of the bed closest to the door on the other side of the room.

He yawned and made a beeline towards the bathroom. It was just as nicely decorated as the rest of the building, with tile floors and a large marble tub in the center of the room. A bar of pink soap sat on a small platform beside it.

A spout protruded from the edge of the tub, made from sort of white metal. A small knob stuck out of its side. There was a hook a short distance away from the tub with a towel hanging on it, and a small shelf with several other towels stacked within it. Arek closed the door behind him and approached the tub, examining the knob before turning it carefully.

Water poured out from it, quickly starting to fill the tub. Arek stuck his finger into the water and his eyebrows rose. It was warm. The orc took his clothes off as the tub filled and slipped into it, letting out a relieved sigh when the water soothed his aching body.

He was pretty sure that the last time he’d gotten a good bath had been in Riverfall, and that hadn’t ended very well. At least this tub was large enough that he wouldn’t get stuck in it.

Arek soaked in the water for a few minutes before scrubbing himself down with the pink soap, which happened to smell like fruit and a flower that he couldn’t place. Once he’d finished, he rinsed and dried himself off before pulling his clothes back on and stepping back outside.

Belmont stood by the window, stringing towels up in front of it. Ming had two other towels in her hands and a strip of jerky sticking out of her mouth.

“Trapping the room?” Arek guessed.

“Only a little,” Belmont muttered. “I’m still working on new designs. But this giant window was unsettling me. I don’t want people watching me when I sleep.”

“I think I might agree with you a little,” Arek said, sitting down on his bed.

The window was so large that he could easily see out of it from across the room. Belmont and Ming finished hanging up the towels and stepped back, nodding approvingly at their work.

Belmont finished a few minutes later and Ming hopped into her bed. After one final sweep of the room, Belmont took out a pad from his extradimensional bag and laid it out over his bed before lying down on top of it, leaving his armor on.

The Happy Sunflowers drifted off into sleep, peaceful and relaxed for the first time in weeks.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The following morning peeked under the towels that Belmont and Ming had hung. Faint rays of sunshine slipped through the cracks and illuminated the room in a warm glow. They all arose at about the same time, climbing out of bed and yawning.

“Was that really a full night of rest?” Malissa asked. “I feel like it wasn’t.”

“We’re up in the clouds,” Belmont said. “It’s very possible that we’re seeing the sun earlier than when we would have on the ground, since there are no mountains or buildings blocking it.”

“Wonderful,” Malissa said. “Should we find a place to train?”

“I think we’ve had enough training recently,” Arek said. “We shouldn’t slack for too long, but we can afford to take a few days off.”

“You just want to challenge that chef,” Ming said. “And I want you to as well. I’m hungry.”

“It would be a good way to get some more insight into the city,” Belmont said. “If you’re anything to go by, chefs wake up very early. Maybe he’s ready for you. Everyone here is so relaxed, but exciting events are great ways to see people’s true feelings. This is a useful opportunity.”

“Hey, you don’t have to convince me,” Arek said, laughing. “I’d try to learn from this chef even if half of the city was trying to shish kebab me while I was doing it.”

“Shish kebab?” Ming asked. “That sounds like food.”

“It’s spiced meat on a skewer.”

“Tasty.”

“Not if you’re the meat.”

They chuckled at Ming’s forlorn expression. After a few more minutes of tidying up and visiting the restrooms to prepare for the day, the Happy Sunflowers headed back down into the tavern.

About five dozen gazes tracked the four of them as they stepped out of the stairwell. The tables had been pushed to the side to make room for the huge crowd that had piled into the center of the tavern.

“We’ve been waiting for you to come down!” the waitress from the previous night exclaimed cheerfully, pushing through the crowd and waving to them. “I hope you all slept well!”

“We did,” Arek said, taken aback. “Why are there so many people here?”

“Not many people try to challenge Chef Gernon! It’s been a while since we’ve had a chef come through the Floating Cities. Naturally, I sent out some feelers to let people know there would be a challenge today.”

“I see,” Arek said. “Well, I’m ready to compete, so long as you’re providing the ingredients.”

“Your party can join the crowd,” the waitress said. “Gernon is waiting for you outside.”

People parted like a sea of flesh, allowing her to lead Arek through.

“I’m Betsy, by the way,” the waitress said, opening the door and steeping through it.

Arek followed after her. His eyes widened. The street was covered with people. Rope barriers had been erected in a wide ring around two huge tables in the center of the street.

A large man in plain white robes stood behind it, his heavily muscled arms crossed before him. His head was clean shaven and shimmered faintly in the sunlight. Arek slowly approached the table beside the man, taking in the crowd as he walked.

The tables were laden with several tools. A large, circular stone sat atop the center, crisscrossing metal forming a basket shape above it. A dial at its bottom gave away that it was powered by a Moonrune.

A flash of red and black slipped through the corner of Arek’s vision. He spun to look for it, but the crowd was too dense, and whatever he’d seen had already vanished. His brow furrowed but he mentally shrugged, striding over to his table.

“Welcome, challenger!” the man who could have only been Gernon boomed, uncrossing his arms and giving Arek a wide smile. “It’s been too long. I’ve been worried that my skills have been getting rusty. I hope you’re up to the task.”

“I highly doubt your skills being anything but polished,” Arek replied, taking his pack off his shoulders and setting it down on the ground beside the table.

Another flash of black and red caught his eye off to the left of the crowd. This time, Arek was able to make out the vague form of a cloak before it disappeared back into the sea of people.

“You speak too highly of me,” Gernon chuckled. “Before we begin, I must request that you introduce yourself. It is tradition, and the Floating Cities follow tradition very closely.”

“Uh…” Arek said, his mind blanking out. He cleared his throat. “I am Arek. Roaming chef with the Happy Sunflowers adventuring group.”

“Well met, Arek of the Happy Sunflowers!” Gernon boomed. “I am Gernon, Fourth Chef of the Floating Cities! My specialty is meat. I’ve yet to face off against an orc, but I have high hopes for you, Arek. Are you ready?”

“I am,” Arek said. “What will we be cooking?”

“The staple of all meats—the commoner’s meal, but brought to new heights,” Gernon said, theatrically throwing his hands out and spinning to look at the crowd before returning his attention to Arek. “Today, we’ll be making chicken.”

Betsy stepped forward, reaching into a bag at her waist. She pulled out a whole chicken and placed it on the table before Arek. Several huge bell peppers followed it. Then came tomatoes, onions, dozens of spices, and a massive mountain of ingredients ranging from milk to bread to bacon.

She then repeated the process at Gernon’s table before giving them both a bow and taking several steps back.

“I have to use all of this?” Arek asked, doubtfully examining the precarious pile on the table in front of him. He scanned the crowd out of the corner of his eyes, but the cloaked figure was gone again.

“Of course not,” Gernon said, laughing. “These are simply options. You may use as much or as little as you would like. Your goal here is simply to make the best chicken dish possible.”

“There are a few rules, though,” Betsy said, raising a finger. “First, you can only cook with the ingredients on the table. You may not add anything else.”

She paused, then raised a second finger. “The best meal will be decided by myself and four randomly selected people from the audience. They’ve already been chosen and are eagerly awaiting both of your meals.”

The crowd behind Betsy parted as two men and two women hurried up behind her, each carrying a tall wooden stool. They set them down on the ground and sat down behind her, watching the chefs attentively.

“Third,” Betsy said, raising yet another finger. “Challenger, you only get a single attempt to challenge Gernon. This is true for all of the chefs in the Floating Cities. You are not expected to be able to defeat him in pure cooking ability. As long as you can get two out of the five judges to agree that your dish is near Gernon’s in quality, you will win.”

“What happens if I lose?” Arek asked curiously.

“Not much, but you’ll never be permitted to challenge Gernon again. You may still attempt to take on the other chefs in the Floating Cities.”

“I see,” Arek said. “Any reason for that?”

“Tradition,” Betsy and Gernon chorused at the same time.

“And to save my sanity,” Gernon added. “We don’t want to deal with a dozen repeat challenges from amateur chefs, so this makes sure they’re confident when they step up to the plate.”

“Makes sense,” Arek said. He tilted his head. “How many other chefs are there? The way you said that makes it seem like they’re in a club.”

“We are,” Gernon said, laughing. “In a way, at least. There are twelve Great Chefs in the Floating Cities. In fact, there are many masters of the arts here. But, if you challenge all of us, there may be a reward depending on how well you did.”

“You’ve got my attention,” Arek said, rubbing his hands together. “Has everyone ever defeated all of you?”

“It’s happened a few times,” Gernon said, cracking his knuckles. “It isn’t common. You think you’ve got a shot?”

“I suppose we’ll see,” Arek replied, rolling his neck. “How long do we have?”

“One hour,” Betsy said. “It sounds like you’re ready?”

Arek examined the pile of food for a few moments, mentally sifting through recipes before he settled on one. Then he nodded. Gernon did the same.

“Then… begin!” Betsy called. The crowd roared in approval as the two chefs dove into the piles of food, grabbing the ingredients that they wanted.

Arek pulled the cleaver from his travel bag. With two heavy, precise chops, he removed the chicken’s legs. The orc moved them in front of himself, then cut firmly through the joint to separate the thighs from the drumsticks.

He pulled the left wing of the chicken to the side, cutting through the joint and splitting it from the body with another clean strike. He repeated the process on the other side, setting the cuts of meat with the others.

Arek flipped the remaining chicken breast on its back and made two powerful cuts, severing the meat from the chicken’s backbone. He set the bone to the side and piled the meat together.

He spent a minute quickly carving off any excess fat or bloody veins before nodding to himself. He wiped his hands off and approached the pile of food, scanning through it. He’d already settled on a relatively basic recipe that he’d been taught a long time ago, largely since the ingredients were so simple.

Arek found a large brick of butter relatively easily. His next target, soy sauce, took a moment longer. There were several flasks with dark liquid, but he found it on the second try and set it beside the butter.

The garlic and black pepper were nestled in a small group of spices near the bottom of the pile. The orc added them to his own, much smaller, pile. He then grabbed some parsley, mildly disappointed that he couldn’t use his own.

Meanwhile, Gernon had been busy. The man had not only cut his chicken but had also skinned it and was well into seasoning with a healthy amount of orange and yellow spices. Flickers of magic danced around the man, although Arek couldn’t tell what it was being used for.

Arek twisted the knob on the plate before him. It hummed to life, blue light surrounding it as a small screen flickered to life before him. Several options flashed on the screen, depicting different methods of applying heat. There was an oven, a broiler, a hot plate, and several others that Arek didn’t recognize.

He tapped the broiler. The bars at the top of the plate shifted, forming a cage. Blue magic stretched between them, covering the bars as if they’d never been there and forming a small blue box.

Red lines burned to life at the top of the box, and the air within it started to heat up quickly. Arek’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t marvel at the oven. He went back to his chicken, removing the skin with the tip of his cleaver.

Arek grabbed a bowl from his bag, tossing it onto the table and taking three large spoonfuls of the butter. He dumped them into the bowl and held a hand over them, channeling energy through the runes on his claws.

A faint golden glow illuminated the butter and it started to melt rapidly, turning liquid within seconds. Arek lowered his hand and took several cloves of garlic from his pile, cracking it open with the flat of his blade and removing the skin before mincing it finely.

He tossed the garlic into the bowl and followed it up with several healthy glugs of soy sauce. The orc mixed everything together, then threw in a dash of parsley and black pepper. He dipped a finger into the sauce and gave it a quick taste before nodding to himself.

There were several cooking utensils at the side of the table. Arek moved a skewer system and a baking tray out of the way, grabbing a wide-brimmed dish with high walls. He set it down beside his workspace, then carefully arranged the chicken within it. He gave the sauce a quick stir, then poured it over the meat, making sure it was evenly coated.

Arek pulled the broiler open and was rewarded with a blast of hot air straight to his face. His nostrils flared and he squinted slightly, putting his meal into the oven and closing the door behind it.

His preparation done, Arek sat down on the edge of the desk to watch Gernon cook. The other chef’s hands were a blur as he danced around the table, finely chopping and dicing vegetables.

The chicken crackled in a pan over the fire, oil sizzling and popping around it. If Gernon saw Arek watching him, he gave no signs of it. Even from where Arek stood, he could smell the powerful spices twisting and melding together like an orchestra.

Ever since the two of them had started cooking, the crowd’s volume had lowered to a low roar. It was impossible for a group of that size to be completely quiet, but they looked to be doing their best.

It didn’t take a genius to see that Gernon’s dish was significantly more complicated than Arek’s. The orc wouldn’t have been surprised if the spices the man was using cost more than his entire meal. However, unlike the steak cook-off that Arek had done in Greenridge, Gernon was highly unlikely to mindlessly believe that the quality of his food would carry its flavor.

Minutes ticked by, and Arek drew in every detail of how the other chef wove his meal like a tapestry, not wasting a single minute. He seemed to instinctively know when the chicken needed to be flipped on the pan or how much spice had to be added to the mix to get the flavor perfect.

Arek glanced through the door of his oven. The top of his chicken had started to darken, but it was yet to show any real color. The pleasant scent of butter and garlic wafted into his nostrils, but it was overpowered by the intense spices that Gernon was using.

Meanwhile, Gernon had added his spice mixture to his pan, turning the chicken bright orange. A dense sauce bubbled tantalizingly around it like a miniature volcano.

More time passed, and soon nearly half of their allotted time had run out. The chicken in Arek’s oven finally started to gain a faint golden-brown crust. The edges darkened and the meat glistened in the red light of the broiler. Arek pulled it open and reached inside, grabbing the large baking tray with both hands.

He set it down on the table, then closed the oven and flicked the dial to the off position. It collapsed down back to its strange basket shape. Gernon looked over at Arek for the first time since they’d started cooking. He gave the orc a small nod.

A few minutes later, Gernon removed a lid from his pan and poured the orange dish onto a large plate. He spent a moment cleaning the edge from a stray sauce splatter, then walked over to the halfway point between their cooking stations. Arek mirrored the motion.

“Have you finished your dish?” Gernon asked.

“I have,” Arek said.

“As have I,” Gernon declared. He turned to Betsy, who quickly pranced up before them.

“What a shocking event, folks!” Betsy called out. “Neither contestant has used their entire allotted time. In a twist of events, the challenger actually finished before Gernon! But does this mean that he’s more skilled, or does it mean that he’s careless? Let’s find out!”

Betsy reached for both of the dishes, but Arek caught her hand. She glanced up at him in surprise.

“The dish is hot,” Arek said. “You’ll burn your hands.”

Betsy’s eyes widened. “That would have been embarrassing. I haven’t done this in too long. Thanks for the warning.”

She grabbed a pair of tongs from Gernon’s table. Then she revealed ten plates seemingly out of midair through some spell that Arek didn’t recognize. She laid them out in the air, where they floated as the woman filled half of them with Arek’s dish and the other half with the one that Gernon had made.

Betsy flicked her hand, walking towards the judges. Silverware formed out of the air and landed gently upon the plates, which slowly floated after her. They lowered themselves before the judges, the final one drifting gently into her hands.

“We’re going to start the judging process!” Betsy called out. “If you’re getting hungry, don’t forget you can pick up some meals in the tavern! Gernon’s assistant chefs have been hard at work cooking, and their food is almost as good as his!”

Several people broke away from the crowd and headed into the tavern at that announcement, but the majority of them didn’t budge an inch. Everyone watched the judges with rapt attention.

CHAPTER FORTY

“So, how are you feeling?” Gernon asked Arek, examining the orc’s dish. Both chefs had several slices of their meals left over.

“As good as I can be, I suppose,” Arek replied with a chuckle. “Chick has never been my forte. I tended to trade for the majority of my meat, and the merchants I worked with usually stocked red meat.”

“Nothing wrong with having a specialty,” Gernon said. “You finished pretty quickly. You must have been confident in your recipe.”

“I’m confident in everything I cook,” Arek said. “I’m not sure if it’ll match up to anything of your caliber, though.”

“Care to find out?” Gernon asked, nodding at one of the remaining slices of meat on his plate.

“I was hoping you’d offer,” Arek said, a grin stretching across his face. He grabbed a serving fork and plate from his table, carefully sliding a piece of chicken onto it. Arek tipped the plate, pouring a little extra sauce over it before claiming his prize. “You’re welcome to taste my meal as well, if you’d like.”

“Don’t see why not,” Gernon said, nodding appreciatively.

While he served himself a portion of Arek’s food, the orc examined the bright orange chicken before him. The sauce was rich and creamy, dotted with dozens of spices.

When he pressed down on the chicken with his fork, it broke apart almost instantly. Arek poked a small piece with a single prong of his fork and brought it to his mouth.

The meat practically melted. A burst of flavor unfurled in his mouth like an exotic flower. The chicken was, unsurprisingly, perfect. It had the faintest crust on the outside, but it was packed chockfull of flavor from the sauce.

The flavor itself was difficult to summarize. It was a myriad of hot spices that Arek had never tasted before. There were hints of smokiness and what could almost be described as different flavors of heat. Everything was tied together by a creamy undertone that kept the dish from becoming overpowering.

It was the perfect combination to draw Arek back in for another bite. He devoured the entire meal within minutes, carefully wiping the last of the sauce up from the plate and barely keeping himself from licking it clean.

“That was amazing,” Arek said, thoroughly taken aback. “I thought I’d be able to recognize more, but half of the things in this meal were completely foreign to me. Where did you get these spices?”

“You can find many of them in the Market District of the Floating Cities,” Gernon said after swallowing a bite of Arek’s chicken. “But the original recipe comes from the Burning Plateau. I traveled there many years ago to learn from their master chefs.”

“It worked,” Arek said. Both chefs chuckled.

Gernon finished off the last bite of Arek’s meal, using the chicken like a sponge to gather the last of the sauce from the plate. He let out a thoughtful grunt.

“A very simple dish,” Gernon said, “but this was not a contest of difficulty. It was of flavor. The choice of soy sauce was intelligent—it pairs surprisingly well with butter to give the meat a smoky flavor. Your skill shines through in the preparation of the chicken and your timing. If this had been in the oven for even a few more seconds, it would become slightly overcooked.”

“That’s a lot of words to say you liked it,” Arek said.

“I’m an old-fashioned man,” Gernon replied. “We like blathering. As for the drawbacks—I think you could use a bit more complexity in this meal. It is good, but the flavor profile is not as developed as it could be. Something to challenge the tastebuds or diversify the flavor more would be beneficial.”

Arek nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps a side dish would go well. Something crunchy?”

“That would be wise,” Gernon agreed. “My own dish is often served atop rice, but I wanted to focus exclusively on the chicken in this contest. Speaking of which, it seems like the judges are almost finished.”

They both turned towards Betsy and the other four men and women, who were in the process of finishing off the last morsels of food on the plates before them. Not a single piece of chicken or sauce had been left behind.

A napkin materialized in Betsy’s hand, which she used to wipe her mouth delicately. She snapped her fingers and the plates vanished. The waitress rose to her feet and shook her head in disbelief.

“What a fantastic showing from both contestants!” Betsy called. “I’m sure it takes none of you by surprise that Gernon’s meal was positively divine, but this challenger came in swinging. His chicken was buttery and rich, with just enough garlic to give it a little kick. Meanwhile, Gernon created a storm of spice and flavor that I can still feel in my mouth!”

The crowd cheered. It might have been the most animated Arek had ever seen people for the results of a cooking contest.

“Before we get into the official judging, I’d like to honor tradition by asking you all one question: do any of you believe that the challenger’s meal was actually better than Gernon’s?”

The crowd fell silent. The first three judges slowly shook their heads. A gasp rose up as the final judge, a pudgy man with a bushy mustache and a receding hairline, slowly raised his hand.

“I did,” he said meekly. “I’m afraid I don’t like spicy food very much.”

“And there you have it, folks! This challenger has a judge in his court! But the true test isn’t if he can beat Gernon—it’s if he can stand up to it! So, without further ado, let’s get into the real judging!”

The crowd cheered at her words. She let them go for a moment, then raised a hand. Almost instantly, everyone grew quiet. Arek couldn’t help but be impressed at her control over the crowd. It almost felt like magic.

“We will be rating food on a scale from one to ten, where ten is as close as a normal chef can get to Gernon’s food, and a one is… well, I think we all know that,” Betsy said. “In order to win, your average score must be an eight or higher. Our first category will be the texture!”

The judges leaned in and chatted amongst themselves as another murmur ran through the crowd. After a minute, they broke back up and turned back to Betsy.

“We’ve come to a decision,” the pudgy man said. “With Gernon’s food as a comparison, we believe the challenger’s meal is a seven in texture. It was incredibly soft and buttery, but there wasn’t quite enough variation in it.”

Arek nodded to himself. Their words matched what Gernon had said, so they didn’t surprise him.

“I agree with your assessment,” Betsy said, nodding. “A seven! Not a bad start for the challenger. A seven is a respectable number indeed, but it won’t get you a win. Let’s see if our contestant can pull things back with the next category: the execution of the meal!”

This discussion was considerably shorter than the last. After only a few words, the same man cleared his throat. “We believe this is a ten. There was no discernable difference between Gernon and the challenger’s technique execution. It was not over or undercooked, and it is clear that this dish turned out exactly how the chef wanted it to.”

Excited chattering started up in the crowd as Arek’s average rose above eight. The buzz of the crowd started to get to Arek as well. It was difficult to remain calm with so many people watching his every move, although he couldn’t tell if they were cheering with or against him.

“The next category is appearance,” Betsy declared. “While it might not be the most important category, something visually appealing can greatly enhance your eating experience. Let’s see what the judges think of our challenger’s meal!”

This decision took the judges far longer. Arek pressed his lips together. He didn’t need the judges to know that Gernon had completely outclassed him in appearance. The brilliant, speckled orange of the other chef’s sauce was incomparable to Arek’s meal.

“We’ve come to a conclusion. I don’t think it surprises anyone that Gernon’s meal was incredibly visually stunning. The sauce was, for lack of a better term, beautiful. The challenger’s meal, however, was not bad in looks. The chicken was beautifully browned, and the butter made it glisten in a very appetizing manner. For that manner, we actually believe that this meal is a seven.”

The chattering grew even louder. Arek couldn’t keep the surprised expression from his face. He’d expected a six at best, which would have meant that winning the competition would likely be borderline impossible. But with a seven, he still had a chance.

Arek spotted someone at the back of the crowd waving at him aggressively. He squinted, a laugh reaching his lips as he spotted Ming standing on Belmont’s shoulders, flailing her arms around in the air to catch his attention. When Ming realized that she had the orc’s attention, she gave him two thumbs up.

“There’s only one section left, folks!” Betsy called, bringing everyone’s attention back to her. She paused to let some excitement build up, then threw her arms into the air theatrically. “It’s time for the final, and most important, category! How does the flavor of the challenger’s meal compare to Gernon’s?”

This time, even Betsy couldn’t keep the noise of the crowd down. The judges muttered back and forth, their conversation growing heated as they started to enunciate their points with aggressive hand motions.

It was the longest that they’d taken to come to a conclusion yet. Betsy stepped over and joined them, quickly getting drawn into what was clearly becoming a heated argument. It took nearly ten minutes before Betsy raised a hand.

The crowd took a moment to quiet. She lowered her hand and turned in a slow circle, looking everyone she could in the eye to build tension. “This has been the first cook-off that Gernon has fought in a long time. I think we can all agree that it was a hard-fought battle, can we not?”

People roared in response.

“But, as all things, a conclusion must be reached! This last rating will determine if our challenger’s meal is worthy to stand up to Gernon’s. His current average score is eight, which means he needs a score of eight or higher to win.”

“Just tell us the score already!” someone yelled.

Betsy smirked. “Don’t be so impatient. Maybe I’ll just keep them to myself.”

People yelled at her in annoyance and Gernon let out a booming laugh. “I’m antsy myself, Betsy. Tell us the score.”

“Fine,” Betsy said, pouting. She turned to Arek, her expression growing serious. “The judges have decided that your dish was rather simple. Its flavor profile was limited. However, the flavors that you did attempt went very well. When compared to Gernon’s dish… the challenger’s gets the rating of eight!”

The crowd let out a deafening cheer and Gernon grabbed Arek’s hand, thrusting it into the air. He slapped Arek on the back with his other hand, giving the orc a wide grin. “Congratulations!”

Arek nearly staggered from the blow. He adjusted his chef’s hat, slightly in disbelief. From the way Betsy had been describing the meal, he’d been certain that Gernon had defeated him. “Thank you. So, do I get to learn that dish you made?”

“Straight to business with you, huh?” Gernon asked, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Enjoy the moment. You’re young. You don’t get to live things like this out every day.”

“You can’t be much older than I am,” Arek yelled over the roar of the crowd.

Gernon just quirked an eyebrow and shrugged in response. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, clearly not particularly bothered by his loss. “Go enjoy your day. I’ll give you your prize later tonight. You should spend today relaxing and having fun, not thinking about a new recipe.”

Before Arek could respond, Ming’s small form blurred through the crowd. She skidded to a stop in front of Arek and Gernon, eyeing the remaining food in their plates. “I knew you’d win! Did you make any extra for me?”

Gernon raised an eyebrow at the small mage. “A friend of yours?”

“My party’s resident food storage unit,” Arek replied, offering Ming the plate with a wink.

She snatched the remaining chicken within it and shoved the entire piece into her mouth like a hamster.

Ming chewed several times and swallowed. For a moment, the orc thought she would choke. He should have known better—there was no food that Ming couldn’t defeat.

She smacked her lips and gave Arek an appreciative nod. “Tasty. Should have made more, though.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

Ming gave Arek a sage nod. Her eyes slowly moved to the remains of Gernon’s meal. She edged towards it, piercing the chicken with a gaze sharp enough to cut flesh. The large chef burst into laughter and lowered the plate to Ming. She eagerly grabbed the serving fork and speared a piece of chicken.

She pushed it into her mouth, smearing her cheeks with bright orange sauce. She chewed once, then polished off the piece and went on to clean the rest of the plate. Gernon’s eyebrows steadily rose on his forehead as she devoured everything in sight.

“Fascinating. Can she even taste anything when she eats at that speed?”

“Ask her, not me,” Arek replied.

Ming let out a loud burp. She flushed and wiped her mouth off with a napkin. When it became clear that there was no more food to be eaten, she curled her nose. “Thanks for the meal!”

“Of course, small one,” Gernon said. “Which dish did you enjoy more?”

“They were both food,” Ming said. “Tasty food. Arek, let’s go to the market! I’m still hungry.”

She shot back off through the crowd, pushing past the amused spectators to find the rest of the Happy Sunflowers. The two chefs watched her go with bemused expressions.

Gernon let out a thoughtful grunt. “I think we could all have something to learn from that girl.”

“So long as it isn’t her eating habits,” Arek agreed. He wiped down his cooking utensils and started to put his belongings away. “I’ll take you up on your offer, I suppose. I must admit that I’m quite interested to see what your Market District has to offer.”

“I’m confident you’ll find it fascinating,” Gernon said, smiling. “Off with you, and great job on your win.”

Arek nodded, raising a hand in farewell and setting off after Ming. The crowd parted before him. People called out praises and congratulations as the orc passed them. Arek tried to keep his face impassive, but he couldn’t help a grin from crossing his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Ming had cheered for his cooking like this.

The rest of the Happy Sunflowers were standing a short distance from the rapidly dispersing crowd. Belmont didn’t look particularly pleased about all the attention they were getting, but even he had managed to keep a tight grin on his face.

“Great job, Arek!” Malissa exclaimed. “We couldn’t see all of it, but that was awesome!”

“You did very well,” Belmont agreed. He drew a deep breath. “The crowd loved you. A little too much. All the people staring are making me a little nervous. Someone is going to recognize us.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Malissa said, flicking Belmont in the forehead. “We’re on a floating island in the sky. We aren’t going to meet anybody we know here.”

Arek caught a flash of black and red in the crowd out of the corner of his eye. Without stopping to think, he spun and bounded towards it, crossing the distance in the blink of an eye. His hand shot out and grabbed the shoulder of a thin, blonde man before he could escape.

The man yelped as Arek grabbed him. Several people stepped back in shock, but the orc ignored them. He pushed the man’s robes to the side with his claw, revealing a Starpiercer guild insignia.

“No fighting inside the city! You’ll get in trouble!” someone yelled.

“No, it’s okay!” the Starpiercer member called out. Arek blinked in surprise, his grip on the man’s clothing loosening. “We’re old friends. This is just how we greet each other. I’m sorry for any fear it might have caused—we just haven’t met in a long time. Come, friend. Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

The Starpiercer member shot Arek a pointed look. The orc released him, mostly out of complete confusion.

“What are you playing at?” Arek asked in a low tone. “You’ve been watching me all day.”

“What are you scared of, orc?” the man asked. “You outnumber me four to one. We need to talk. Away from the crowd.”

“Fine,” Arek said, forcing a grin onto his face. “Come with us. And don’t make any flashy moves.”

Arek’s Garlic Butter Chicken

¼ cup butter

1.5 tablespoons minced garlic

1.5 tablespoons soy sauce

1 teaspoon parsley

6 boneless chicken thighs

1. Melt the butter in a saucepan or microwave.

2. Mix all ingredients other than the chicken together in a bowl.

3. Lay chicken out in a baking dish and pour sauce over it, ensuring a good coating.

4. Broil for 15-20 minutes, flipping halfway through.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

The man nodded and led the way back over to the rest of the Happy Sunflowers. Belmont slowly slipped his staff out from its place at his side and Malissa’s hands clenched.

“He’s peaceful,” Arek said. “Wants to talk in private. We can’t cause a scene here.”

“An alley works,” Belmont said. “Easy disposal if things go wrong.”

“Thank you,” the Starpiercer member said. “I’m right here, you know.”

“I don’t care,” Belmont replied. “Start walking.”

The man shrugged and the five of them headed away from the baffled crowd. They traveled down side street after side street until they’d put a good amount of distance between themselves and anyone who might have been watching.

After they turned down a small alley, Belmont stopped and turned to face the man with a cold expression. “This will work. Start talking.”

“As you might have gathered, I’m part of what remains of the Starpiercer guild,” the man said. “You can call me Axon, and I need your help.”

“Why would we ever help you?” Arek asked, baring his teeth. “Your guild and I caused more damage than many wars ever could have. The Starpiercers deserve to fade away and die.”

“That might be the case,” Axon said, giving a halfhearted shrug. “But we have a common enemy: the Howler guild.”

“What do you have to do with them? Is this because they’re taking over Riverfall?” Malissa asked. “And what makes you so sure that the Howlers are our enemies?”

Axon just raised an eyebrow. “We can skip this portion of the chat. You’ll deny knowing anything about them and I’ll point out that they’ve been chasing you for weeks. Let’s treat each other like adults, okay?”

“You’re awful confident when you’re outnumbered,” Belmont said, drumming his fingers on the staff shaft. “And none of us are particularly well disposed towards you.”

“Kill me and your stay on the islands ends. The entire crowd saw the orc grab me. Everyone will know what happened.”

“So?” Arek asked. “The islands are nice, but I find equal enjoyment from stomping out scum.”

Axon blinked. “You’d throw away your pass on the islands just to kill me? Are you insane? You must have paid hundreds of thousands of gold for that entrance pass. Why would you waste it on me?”

“It was a gift, actually. A free one,” Ming said. “So really, we could bonk you and drop you in a ditch at no real cost to ourselves.”

Axon’s eyes bulged. “A gift?”

“How about we get back on track,” Arek suggested. “I’ll admit that I’d rather stay on the island if possible, but you certainly aren’t making things easier on yourself. The more you talk, the more I want to see if my karma goes up or down for offing you.”

“Fine,” Axon said, adjusting his robes with a huff. Despite their threats, the man didn’t look particularly concerned. “My guild still has a strong hold on several cities through channels that I don’t care to get into. However, the Howlers falsely believe to smell blood in the water. They’re pushing into our territory and trying to crush any support that we have.”

“I don’t see why we should care about this,” Arek said.

“I’m getting to it. See, I’m one of the intelligence officers for the Starpiercers. Consider this a sign of my good faith.”

Axon reached into a pocket, wincing as Malissa’s daggers sprang to her hands. He very carefully pulled out a folded slip of paper with two fingers and handed it to Arek. The orc opened it, keeping one eye on the man the entire time. The paper was smudged and much of the writing was lost, but Arek was still able to make out a good amount of it.

Targets participated in defending Red Mount from Event 12-A. Their attempts were partially successful, and the city was not destroyed. … Operative was killed … One escaped, killing fifteen of our men.

Operation was not a complete loss. Extensive data collected, fatalities were … Agent reported targets were gifted something of great value. Item unknown. … will proceed with termination at …

Arek’s eyes narrowed as he read through the paper. “How do I know this is legitimate? And from the Howler guild, for that matter?”

“Are we really going to do this?” Axon asked. “Why would I have sought you out to give you fake information?”

“I can think of a dozen reasons off the top of my head,” Arek replied, handing the paper to Belmont so he could take a look at it. “If you don’t have anything that’s actually of value, we’re going to be on our way.”

“Bah. Slow down,” Axon said. “That was the token of goodwill. I don’t care if you believe it or not; it isn’t relevant to what we need you for. Look, we need the expertise of your group. The orc in particular.”

“Cooking,” Arek guessed. “You need a chef? Your answer to that better be yes, because if I find out that you’ve come seeking me to slaughter more innocents, I’m starting with you.”

“We need a chef,” Axon agreed quickly. “It’s not well known, but we have a decently sized property on the Floating Cities. The Howlers want to take it from us, so they challenged our best chef to a cook-off for ownership of the building.”

“Couldn’t he have just said no?” Ming asked. “He sounds dumb.”

“You can’t say no to a cook-off on the Floating Cities,” Axon said, rolling his eyes. “Just like you can’t refuse any contest of skill for island-owned property. That’s why everything here is so high quality. Only the best of the best can stay.”

“I suppose that does explain a lot,” Arek said. “But this is wrapping back to the exact same issue. Why should I care? If this is your best chef, he or she should be more than talented enough to handle this. If they aren’t, you don’t deserve to remain on the island.”

“You do realize that the Howlers are trying to kill you, right?” Axon asked, pressing his lips together. “They’re hunting your group!”

“So did you,” Arek pointed out.

“Bah. All in the past. Let’s forget that for a moment. The Howlers cheated. Our chef is missing.”

“Maybe he bailed out?” Ming offered.

“He wouldn’t have done that,” Axon said angrily. “He loved cooking just as much as your orc does. He’s been kidnapped or killed. As have the majority of our talented chefs. The Howlers want this restaurant very badly.”

“Again, I’m still failing to see why we should care,” Arek said. “And I’m starting to feel like you’re wasting my time. You’ve got one more sentence to tell me why I should give the smallest shit about you. If you don’t, I’m going to sit on the sidelines and watch the Howlers kick your sorry guild off the island with a smile.”

“Two reasons,” Axon said. “The first is that our sources reported that your group has some form of relation to Null. We believe he’s the one that attacked our chefs. The second is this.”

The bald man reached into his pocket and pulled out a dull green shard. It looked like half of a broken jade sphere.

Arek squinted at it, a frown crossing his face. “Is that…?”

“Part of an item that would have caused another monster horde,” Axon confirmed. “It was placed at a dungeon near one of our hideouts. If our high-rank members hadn’t cleared the dungeon when they noticed something was strange with the ambient energy, the town would have been destroyed. The Howlers are the ones planting these.”

“How do you know?” Malissa asked. “That’s definitely an orb, but nothing proves that the Starpiercers aren’t the ones hiding them.”

“I can’t prove it,” Axon said irritably. “Unfortunately, I’ve got no irrefutable evidence. But think about it for a moment—why would I seek you out and deliver myself into your hands if we were really doing that? It would be pointless.”

“He actually has a point,” Belmont said, grimacing as if it hurt him to say the words. “The Howlers have already proven that they don’t have any morals, and it would be incredibly stupid for the Starpiercers to seek us out if they were planting these. It’s not like our group is large enough to make a significant difference in a fight.”

“But how does that play into a cooking competition?” Arek asked. “This just seems like an arbitrary fight.”

“Not at all,” Axon said, shaking his head. “You heard about the reward for defeating all twelve chefs in the Floating Cities, right? It’s rumored to be a boon from the mayor of the cities. Something like that could sway the tide of an entire war. The mayor is a high A-ranked adventurer. You can get the boon by defeating any group of the Great Talents that reside within the islands, but we’ve already got people working on those. However, it looks like the Howlers are focusing on the chefs, so we can’t allow them to progress unhindered.”

“So you want me to take your place in the competition so they get kicked off the island?” Arek asked. “Even if I assume you’ve told us the truth, why should I help? We could just report that the Howlers are starting monster hordes and let the adventurer’s guild take care of this.”

“The adventurer’s guild won’t interfere in a guild conflict,” Axon said irritably. “Not as long as we keep the towns out of it. You saw how much they cared about what happened in Riverfall. We’ve heard that the four of you were chased out after winning an auction.”

Arek’s brow lowered. The man was right, but that didn’t make the orc like him any more. He just shrugged. “That may be the case, but we’ve looped back to the first problem. I don’t like the Howlers. I don’t like you. Why should we help?”

“Because if you do, we’ll use this opportunity to push the Howlers back,” Axon said. “We’ll put pressure on them and force them out of Riverfall.”

“I don’t want the Starpiercers in Riverfall either,” Arek said, crossing his arms.

“Then we’ll leave as well,” Axon said. “We’ll remove the Howlers and leave a vacuum for another guild to move in. How does that sound?”

Arek blinked. “Do you have the authority to say that?”

“Yes. So long as you assist us in winning this competition, we will push the Howlers out of Riverfall and then leave the city ourselves. I swear this on the name of the Starpiercer guild.”

Arek considered the man. Then he let out a sigh and glanced at the rest of the Happy Sunflowers. “What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Malissa said. “You’re the one that has to compete in the competition. I don’t think we can lose anything from it other than revealing our location to the Howlers, though. So long as the Starpiercers actually hold up their end of the deal, it might be a good idea.”

“With any luck, maybe the Howlers and Starpiercers will tear each other to shreds so we don’t have to deal with either of them,” Belmont said. “I don’t think it’s wise to let the Howlers know that we’re on the Floating Cities, but I get the feeling that it’s too late for that. After that competition, I wouldn’t be surprised if half of the island knows there’s an orc chef here, and there aren’t too many of those.”

“More food is also good,” Ming added. “Make them buy your supplies.”

“Not a bad idea,” Arek said, turning to Axon. “Buy my supplies as well. If I win this competition, I don’t get any real reward from it other than two of my enemies entering a fight that they would have had without my help.”

“Fine,” Axon said, pressing his lips together. “We will cover your cooking supplies if you fight with us. But what do we get if you lose?”

“Nothing,” Arek replied. “You don’t have the bargaining chips here, Starpiercer. You need me, but I couldn’t care less about you. If you don’t like that, you’re welcome to find another chef.”

Axon spat on the ground. “Very well. We’ll cover your expenses, but only for cooking supplies. The fight is tomorrow morning, two hours after the sun has risen. We know you’re staying at the Singing Swan. We’ll lead you to the competition then. How much gold do you need for your supplies?”

A slow, predatory grin stretched across Arek’s face. “How about you just open a tab for us instead? That might make things a bit easier.”

Axon bared his teeth. Then he nodded, reaching into his pocket and flipping Arek a metal card. “Fine. Keep it within reason. Be ready tomorrow.”

With that, the Starpiercer member swept past them, nearly bowling Ming over as he strode into the alleys and disappeared into the city. The Happy Sunflowers watched him leave before crowding around Arek.

“What did he give you?” Ming asked, peering up at the orc’s hands.

“An identity card,” Arek said. “I guess they took the whole tab thing seriously—not that I can complain. I’m running low on just about everything, so this is a great way to replenish my supplies.”

“And you’re really okay with working with them?” Malissa confirmed. “You know, given the history…”

“It’s fine,” Arek said, nodding once. “The Starpiercers are scum, but it’s better to let the scum deal with each other rather than have to face both one at a time. I don’t think he was lying about the Howlers trying to find us, either. I just don’t know what their obsession is. All we did was win an auction.”

“We’ll keep our eyes and ears open for any information,” Belmont said. “For now, I don’t think we should let this impact our vacation. The cook-off is tomorrow, so we might as well enjoy the city for the rest of today.”

“That’s a good idea,” Malissa agreed. “I’ve been wanting to go shopping for a while now, especially since we’ve finally got the money to use. I lost more daggers than I’d care to count in the fight on Red Mount, and it’s about time I got some fancier ones anyways.”

“I’ve got some stuff I need to get taken care of as well,” Belmont said. “And I’m sure Ming is going to do her best to eat all the food any of the vendors in the area have to offer.”

“Perhaps we should split up while we shop?” Arek suggested. “I think the city should be safe enough, especially with their rules on fighting. No matter how much the Howlers dislike us, I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to risk their position on the Floating Cities.”

Belmont frowned. He opened his mouth, then closed it slowly, just giving Arek a small nod. “You might be right. It’s safe here. Probably. Right?”

“Let’s just put a time limit on how long we’re gone,” Malissa said. “We can meet back at the inn in three hours. If anyone is gone longer than that, we go looking for them.”

They all turned to look at Ming, who didn’t even have the good grace to look embarrassed. “I’ll be there. Unless the food is really good.”

That was about the best they were going to get from her, so they started off towards the Market District. It took them a few minutes to figure out where they were, but after that, the clean layout of the city made it a trivial task.

“Could you give me the wyrm horns you’ve been holding onto?” Belmont asked Arek as they reached the edge of the district.

The orc nodded and handed them to him with a grin. “Finally getting some new bling on your armor?”

“They look cool,” Belmont said meekly. Everyone else laughed and, after a moment, Belmont joined in.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

The market was massive. Neat rows of wooden wagons with tarp covers lined the streets. It looked like there were rough themes to every section of the market, but it was hard to tell from where they stood.

Dozens of pillars of smoke rose up into the sky from several streets over, carrying the smell of succulent meat and sweets in the wind. Ming’s stomach rumbled.

Before they headed off in their separate ways, Ming reached into her extradimensional bag and pulled out a bag of coins. She counted out ten gold, then handed the rest of the bag to Malissa, who wordlessly put it away.

“Just to make sure I don’t spend all of my money at once,” Ming said, grinning at Arek. “Otherwise I’ll buy all the food and won’t have anything left over.”

She darted off in the direction of the smoke. Belmont was the second to go, heading down the alleyways and towards the rows of buildings at the far end of the market. Malissa and Arek split ways as well—Malissa headed after Belmont, and Arek wandered aimlessly down the center of the street, examining the shops as he passed them by.

His initial suspicion of the market being arranged into categories proved to be correct. Every single merchant on the road beside him was selling cloth or rugs. Several of the men called out to him, but once they realized he had no interest in their wares, the rest of the street quickly lost interest in him.

Arek made his way into the next street, which was slightly more promising. Merchants had all sorts of utensils and household supplies on display. Several ornate spoons caught the orc’s eye, but not enough for him to buy anything.

There was only one thing the orc was interested in buying, and that was food. Well, that and water for his garden, which he suspected was likely getting low on supplies. He strode confidently, sliding past the people milling about in the road as he followed his nose.

It took him down two more streets before stopping in a large roundabout. A grin crossed Arek’s face, and he slowed to a stop to take in the sight. There were several dozen carts with all sorts of ingredients on display.

One had several large boxes of ice before it, keeping large fish chilled. There were fresh shrimps, fruits, vegetables, and mounds of spice piled atop tables that were nearly two heads tall. Arek nearly felt himself become giddy.

He drew a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. Before he could start going crazy and buying everything he saw, the first order of business was replenishing his basic supplies. The orc scanned the crowd for a few moments, then settled on one of the larger carts that looked to be selling general supplies.

Arek made his way over towards it. The merchant wore a low cowl that covered their face, but he could still see wisps of grayish-white hair peeking out from beneath it. They were rather large, and it wasn’t muscle that made up their body.

“Hello,” Arek said, adjusting his chef’s hat. “I’d like to replenish some of my basic supplies.”

“Of course,” the merchant said, their warbly voice identifying them as an old woman. “I believe I should be able to help you there. What do you need?”

“Flour, cooking oil, soy sauce, yeast, orange oil, paprika, cayenne, and just about any green dried seasoning you’ve got,” Arek said, ticking the ingredients off on his fingers as he stated each one. “And really, anything else that might have a common-use application. I’m basically entirely out.”

The woman’s hands shot out, grabbing items and putting them down on the counter before Arek with each word he spoke. By the time he’d finished talking, the merchant had already gathered a small pile of goods for him to examine.

Arek blinked in surprise. “That was fast.”

“It’s my job, sweet cheeks,” the merchant said with a laugh. “I’ve gathered everything you requested, along with basil, oregano, thyme, and a few other spices that I think you should have. I assume you’ve got no need for salt or pepper?”

“I’m good there,” Arek agreed, squinting. The woman’s voice sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. “Could I get some more flour, though? I use a lot of it, and I’d hate to run out.”

The merchant wordlessly pulled out another sack and set it down beside the pile.

Arek grinned. “Perfect. How much will this be?”

“Three gold, dearest,” she said. Arek handed her the Starpiercer card. She glanced down at it, her posture growing tight as she recognized the symbol on the metal.

“Don’t worry,” Arek said quickly. “I’m not part of the guild by any means. They owed me a favor, and I’m fleecing them for every coin I can.”

The merchant paused, then let out a laugh. She pressed her thumb against a small indent in the center of the card, then handed it back to him. “In that case, I’m more than happy to help you out. Any enemy of them is a friend of the people.”

Arek cocked his head. The more the woman spoke, the more confident he was that he knew her. His eyes widened as he finally managed to place the woman’s voice. “Grandma Bella? Is that you?”

The merchant let out a giggle. “Ah, I was wondering if you’d notice! How did your special dish turn out?”

“Quite well,” Arek said, smiling. “It wasn’t quite as good as the one I was trying to emulate, but it’s difficult to beat a master at their own game. I learned a lot while making it, and I believe I’ve got a better idea on how to improve it in the future as well. You were very helpful.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Grandma Bella said, pulling her cowl back and giving Arek a warm smile. “It’s always a blessing to assist young chefs. It’s why I enjoy visiting the lower cities so much.”

“You don’t live in Riverfall?” Arek asked, but her explanation made sense. She’d vanished the second day he’d gone looking for her, so it was unlikely the woman had a permanent residence there.

“I live in the Floating Cities, but they get stale after you’ve been here enough,” Bella said. “Sometimes, I like a breath of fresh air and talent. Not many manage to get to the Floating Cities, and much talent would be lost if I sat here waiting for people to show up at my wagon.”

“Well, I’m grateful for your help,” Arek said. He paused as a thought struck him and a small frown crossed his face. “Ah, have you been to Red Mount recently?”

“I have not,” Bella said, her face creasing with worry at Arek’s expression. “I was going to head down in a month or two to buy some ingredients. Why do you ask?”

“Red Mount was recently attacked by a monster horde,” Arek said. “My party and I were there during the attack. We managed to fend off the monsters with the help of the guards and a B-ranked team. Most of the civilians survived, but the city was ransacked.”

“My goodness,” Grandma Bella said, raising a hand to her mouth in horror. “That’s terrible. Terrible indeed. Whyever would a monster horde form near Red Mount? That dungeon is commonly frequented!”

“I’m not sure if I can say,” Arek said, frowning. “But let’s just say it wasn’t unintentional.”

The old merchant pressed her lips together in anger. “Thank you for telling me this. I will have to push my trip down to Red Mount up in the schedule. It sounds like they’ll be in dire need of supplies, and I’d like to help rebuild in any way that I can.”

“Please wish them the best from me,” Arek said. “Particularly Rovin and the guard captain. They’re the ones who helped us get to the Floating Cities.”

“Ah. That would explain how such a young and meek one as yourself arrived here,” Bella said, laughing. “It is interesting how the world works. I will be sure to send them your kind words.”

“I’m not sure I’d call myself meek,” Arek said, chuckling at the irony of someone using that term for Warchief. “But I appreciate your assistance nonetheless.”

“Have a wonderful stay on the islands,” Bella said. “I’d heard that a new challenger had emerged to take on the Twelve Great Chefs. It’s a noble goal, but I would be wary. Nothing is free on these islands.”

“That’s ominous,” Arek said, lowering his brows. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t going to say anything more on it?”

“Because you’re a clever young lad,” Bella said with a kind smile. “You’ll work things out, Arek. Take care of yourself.”

“Thanks for the kind words,” Arek said, opening his travel pack and stuffing his new supplies into it.

Grandma Bella watched him with a bemused expression. “I hate to leave so quickly, but I’d like to head to Red Mount and get there in time for dinner. We’ll meet again soon, young chef.”

“Of course,” Arek said. “But how are you going to get to Red Mount quickly?”

Grandma Bella winked at him. “I’ve got my ways, sweetie. Take care of yourself and remember to keep putting your heart and soul into your work. No meal tastes proper without the passion behind it.”

Bella whistled. The wagon contorted around her, twisting and warping inwards like it had turned to paper and been sucked into a whirlwind. It spiraled into a stream and flew into a pouch at her side.

The old woman shimmered with red light. She gave one final wave to Arek, then vanished with a pop. The orc blinked, staring at where she’d been standing. After a moment, he shook his head and glanced around.

There weren’t many other customers in this area of the district at the moment, and none of the other merchants seemed particularly surprised by the old woman’s actions. A few of them cast looks in Arek’s direction, but for the most part they were preoccupied with their own carts.

Arek shrugged and slung his pack back over his shoulder. Now that the core ingredients were taken care of, it was time to work on fleecing the Starpiercers for every coin they’d give him. Before he got started, he pulled out his gold medallion.

It had been a while since he’d checked on the garden, but he’d filled the water storage to the max the last time he’d visited, so everything should have been watered. He pressed the indent in the metal and the world shifted around him.

A sea of green sprouted around Arek’s feet as he appeared within the garden. His tidy rows of herbs had multiplied a dozen times, becoming nearly knee high. The orc let out a gleeful laugh and knelt beside a particularly large basil plant, running his fingers across its fragrant leaves and smelling them.

The fruity, floral smell of the herb only served to widen his grin. He did a quick lap around the garden, and everything still seemed to be in good shape. The water supplies had, however, dipped into the red.

Arek glanced over at the section of dirt where he’d planted his cuttings. His eyes widened in surprise. The last time he checked, they’d had leaves and a few strange bulbs. In the time that had passed, the cuttings had turned into miniature trees.

Each of them had a dozen large leaves bigger than his palm. Nestled above the nodes of the leaves were medium-sized, juicy-looking fruits. Most were green, with splotches of purple at their base. One of them was almost entirely purple.

Arek approached the cuttings carefully and prodded one of the greenish fruits with his finger. It was firm and resisted his touch. He grunted and did the same with the purple-looking fruit.

To his horror, the fruit popped off the tree and fell to the ground. Arek yanked his hand back, staring at the fig at his feet. He picked it up, brushing off some of the dirt, and sniffed it. The fig was sweet and floral, like an earthy perfume.

He raised it to his mouth and took a small nibble. The grin returned to his face as the sweet fruit dissolved on his tongue. It was like a mixture of berries and honey. He hadn’t done all that much to keep the trees alive, but he couldn’t help but feel proud.

The orc tossed the rest of the fig into his mouth, chewing happily as he reactivated the medallion and popped back into the Market District. He set off at a brisk pace, searching for a merchant that he could buy water from.

It only took him a few minutes to find what he was looking for. After handing the Starpiercer card over, Arek spent a minute delivering several large barrels of water to the garden and filling it until the meter had returned to the green section.

Once he’d finished, Arek set off in search of any exotic spices. However, he quickly discovered that it wasn’t a matter of finding them but figuring out which ones he wanted to carry with him.

Each merchant in the area had at least half a dozen things that Arek had never heard of before. There was a ridiculously expensive red grass called saffron, more orange spices from the Burning Plateau, and an assortment of strange plants and herbs.

Eventually, Arek ended up buying just about one jar of everything he saw. By the time he got to the saffron, the Starpiercer guild’s card was declined. The merchant sent him an apologetic glance, but Arek just shrugged. He’d run the bill up for several hundred gold at the minimum, so he was more than happy with the damage he’d done to their coffers.

There was still at least an hour left before he had to meet with the rest of the group, so Arek wandered deeper into the market, checking out what other goodies the merchants had to offer him.

He passed by several rows of merchants selling books and one particularly aggressive man trying to convince everyone that passed him to upgrade their travel packs before arriving at a cart covered by a long black tarp.

An older man with a salt-and-pepper beard sat at the front, whittling something out of a small piece of wood in his hands. The man glanced up as Arek approached. “Looking for bits of this and that? I’ve got all sorts of souvenirs and assorted items.”

“Like what?” Arek asked, intrigued by the fact that he couldn’t see a single bit of what the man was supposedly selling.

A wide grin split the man’s face and he reached back, pulling out a tied cloth bag. “Care to find out?”

“That’s not ominous in the slightest,” Arek said, eyeing the bag carefully. “What do you have in there? A cat?”

“It’s a surprise bag,” the merchant said, shaking it under the orc’s nose. “Could be anything.”

“That just sounds like an excuse to put garbage in a sack and sell it for more than what it’s worth. How much is it?”

“Ten silver.”

Arek’s lip curled in distaste. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Thanks for the offer, though.”

The merchant shrugged, turning away from Arek to find a new target as the orc wandered deeper into the market. There was no shortage of fascinating items scattered throughout it, but none of them managed to catch the orc’s attention.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Time passed quickly. Arek headed back to their rendezvous point after one last sweep of the market. Belmont had beat him to it, and the man had clearly been liberal with his use of money.

The horns from the wyrm they’d killed had been shortened, then carved with runes and embedded on the shoulders of his armor. He looked like the warrior for some dark lord rather than a healer that used pink bubbles to protect his team. It would have been significantly more intimidating had Arek not known Belmont personally.

“I see you’ve been active,” Arek said, stopping beside Belmont. “What did you get on the horns?”

“Channeling foci,” Belmont replied, “to help me multicast magic. It’s basically like having two extra staves on my shoulders, and it should let me shield everyone at the same time if I need to. I could do that before, but this makes it much easier.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that it looks cool.”

“No,” Belmont agreed, “it doesn’t. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Ran the Starpiercer card dry. There was some interesting stuff in the market, but a lot of it honestly seemed like touristy garbage more than anything useful. Someone tried to sell me a surprise bag. He wouldn’t say what was in it, but it cost ten silver! What a waste of money.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Belmont agreed, shaking his head. “A waste indeed.”

“What’s a waste?” Malissa asked, emerging from the thin crowd to join them. She held two new daggers in her hands. They didn’t look particularly fancy, but Arek could tell that they were of good make.

“Hello, Malissa,” Arek said. “We were talking about a merchant trying to sell mystery bags for ten silver.”

“Sounds like someone’s just caching in on all the rich folk that come through the island,” Malissa said with a shrug. “Has anyone seen Ming?”

No sooner had she said the small mage’s name did Ming pop out of the crowd, lugging a small tarp sack behind her. She scurried over to the team and skidded to a stop beside them, her cheeks completely stuffed full of food.

She swallowed, then waved. “Find anything cool?”

“Just what we came here for,” Arek said, shrugging. “Nothing too interesting, although Belmont did go through a makeover. What about you? Anything other than food?”

“Mostly food,” Ming said, peering into her bag and shuffling around it. “It was good, but I think yours is better. So is the chef at the tavern we’re staying at.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, could someone help me with this? I can’t get it open.”

Ming presented the small tarp bag that looked strikingly similar to the one that the shady merchant had tried to sell Arek. They all looked down at the bag, then up at Ming’s hopeful face.

“What’s this?” Arek asked carefully.

“It’s a surprise!” Ming exclaimed. “It’s soft, but I can’t get the ropes open. I was going to just blast it with magic, but I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

Malissa reached out and lifted the bag from Ming’s hands and tried to open it. The rope at the top had been knotted so tight that it was impossible to get a good purchase on it. With an exasperated huff, Malissa grabbed the side of the bag and gave it a sharp tug.

The cloth ripped slightly, leaving a small opening. Malissa handed it back to Ming, who eagerly peered inside it. She raised an eyebrow and reached inside, pulling out a pair of palm-sized wooden discs connected by a cylinder with a thick length of string wrapped around it.

“What’s this?”

“I think it’s a toy,” Malissa said, taking it from Ming and looping her finger around the end of the string. She flicked it down and the disc descended, spinning rapidly. She flicked her hand up and the disc shot back into it. “They’re called yo-yos.”

Ming took it back from Malissa and examined it before trying to copy her movements. The yo-yo clattered to the ground. She picked it up, wrapping the string around it and pursing her lips. “It doesn’t like me very much.”

“It’s just practice,” Malissa said, holding back a laugh. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it if you try a little more. Where’d you get the yo-yo, anyways?”

“A sketchy guy sold it to me for ten silver,” Ming replied, eyeing the yo-yo before slipping it into her bag.

Arek made it a point not to slap his forehead. The group burst into laughter and Ming gave them a confused look. Nobody explained anything and she didn’t ask, too preoccupied with the yo-yo.

The sun had started to edge its way downwards, so after a few more words, they all headed back towards the Singing Swan.

They all sat down at a table and waited for Betsy, who swept over to them after delivering the food to another table.

“How did your first full day on the Floating Cities go?” Betsy asked, smiling. “Was the Market District enjoyable? I can see that at least some of you have made use of it.”

“It was very diverse,” Arek said. “There were more spices than I’ve seen anywhere else. If I’d bought them all, I don’t think they would have fit into my bag.”

“Your blacksmiths are very talented,” Belmont said, sending an appreciative glance at the new additions to his armor. “Pricy, but talented.”

“Who did you commission?” Betsy asked.

“Voogel,” Belmont replied. “He was the only one that wanted to carve horns.”

“Ah, that explains the craftsmanship,” Betsy said. “Voogel is one of the Twelve Great Smiths. He’s one of the more approachable ones, but you’re still lucky he took you up on a job. He’s quite picky.”

“A few hundred gold seems to be a great motivator,” Belmont observed dryly. “And just how many ‘greats’ are there? Twelve Great Chefs, smiths, who else?”

“Warriors, artists, and mages,” Betsy said. “Right now, at least. There used to be more, but some people eventually decide to leave the Floating Cities and we’ve had to disband a few of our sects. There have been new rules since then, though, so that doesn’t happen much anymore.”

“Fascinating,” Arek said. “Has anyone ever defeated all of them?”

Betsy laughed. “Once, actually. I wasn’t around to see it, as this apparently happened over five thousand years ago. A man arrived on the city without an invitation and challenged every single one of the Greats, defeating them handily. He was powerful beyond belief, but apparently incredibly strange. A lot of people believe he was a World Walker, but there’s no way to prove or deny that.”

“The guys that can travel between dimensions?” Ming asked doubtfully. “Those exist?”

“Don’t ask me,” Betsy replied, shrugging. “There are a few people that could probably give you more information, but that won’t be free. In fact, aside from the first night, there’s very little that’s truly free in the Floating Cities. Consider this advice a gift.”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that,” Arek said, noting the shift in the woman’s tone. “You’re making me curious. If we were interested in such information, where could we find it? And also, could I get a plate of whatever Gernon is making along with a mug of beer?”

Betsy clicked her tongue. “The food I can do, but the information isn’t free, Arek.”

“The beer wasn’t for me.”

The waitress burst into laughter. “Ah, clever. I haven’t been paid with alcohol before, and I am a little parched. After your competition tomorrow morning with the Howler guild, go talk to Terrence at the Great Library. He’ll be able to fill you in for the right price. Now, what can I get the rest of you?”

“I think we’d all like the same as what Arek chose, without the beer,” Malissa said.

“I want some milk too,” Ming added.

“Coming right up,” Betsy said, vanishing back into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she emerged with several plates bearing tall stacks of pancakes lathered in syrup, cream, and berries.

She slid them down on the table before them. “Salt and pepper, anyone?”

“On pancakes?” Arek asked, raising an eyebrow. “And pancakes for dinner?”

“I figured I’d ask. You never know,” Betsy said with a giggle. “And you’re on the Floating Cities. Live a little. Pancakes are good at any time of day. Especially Gernon’s. It’s a family recipe, and even though it isn’t chicken, it’s stood up to the test of time.”

Arek picked up his utensils and cut a large chunk of one of the fluffy pancakes, getting a little of everything on his fork. He popped it into his mouth, closing his eyes as the sugary syrup mixed with the whipped cream and fresh berries in a rainbow of sweet flavor.

“I don’t think I’d mind eating this for dinner every day,” Arek said, licking his lips.

He opened his eyes to see Ming stretch her mouth as wide as she could and practically faceplant into the pancakes. She took a huge bite out of them, somehow coming up completely clean.

Her eyes sparkled with glee as she chewed and swallowed in an instant before shoveling the rest of the food into her mouth at an unbelievable rate. Betsy watched in awe as the girl made the entire stack, which was larger than her head, vanish in under a minute.

Arek slowly took another bite of his own food, enjoying the free entertainment. However, both Malissa and Belmont cringed.

“Maybe you shouldn’t get that much sugar, Ming?” Malissa suggested as Ming licked her plate clean.

“Come on, Malissa,” Ming whined. “It’s been years since that happened. I’ve got control of my magic now. I won’t blow the tavern up.”

A heavyset man at the table beside them cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to intrude, but that was fascinating. Are you a professional speed eater?”

“I could be,” Ming said, eyeing him hungrily. “Why?”

“Well, there’s a competition coming up in two days,” he said, straightening his jacket. “I’ve got a ticket to enter, but compared to you, I don’t think I have the right to even attempt it. If you’re willing to split the reward with me, I’ll give you the ticket.”

“Deal!” Ming exclaimed.

“What’s the split?” Belmont asked, peering over her shoulder with an expression that wasn’t quite cold, but just threatening enough to be a warning.

“Seventy-thirty,” the man replied quickly. “In her favor.”

“Don’t be mean, Belmont,” Ming said, prodding him through a gap in his armor. “It’s free food. Speaking of which, are there more pancakes?”

“No more sugar for you,” Malissa said. “You’re already bouncing around. We don’t need to get kicked off the Floating Cities before you can do a speed-eating contest, do we?”

“Oh,” Ming said, frowning, “that’s a good point. I want more free food. But I’m hungry now… Arek, can you make something?”

“Well, I believe Gernon owes me a recipe of some sort,” Arek replied. “If he teaches me how to cook it tonight, I’d imagine there will be a demonstration. I’ll bring you some of that.”

Ming cheered and everyone glanced in their direction, but she didn’t seem to care. The Happy Sunflowers returned to their meals and Belmont slipped a pancake off his stack to add to Ming’s empty plate when he didn’t think anyone was watching.

They waited out the rest of the night, laughing and eating. Once the crowd had finally started to thin out, Betsy approached their table with a small smile on her face.

“Gernon is ready to see you now,” Betsy said. “Would you like to meet with him?”

“Absolutely,” Arek said, pushing his stool back and rising to his feet. “Please excuse me, all. I will return shortly.”

The other Happy Sunflowers waved to Arek as he followed the waitress through the room and into the kitchen. To his surprise, it was quite plain. There was one large counter with several cabinets below it where Gernon had set out numerous bowls full of ingredients.

A door at the back led to what Arek guessed to be an ice room, and there was a large oven and a stove on the other side. Gernon was in the process of cleaning pancake batter off a large wooden spoon in the sink.

He gave Arek a massive grin and nodded to Betsy, who slipped back out the door and closed it behind her.

“Did you enjoy your first full day on the Floating Cities?”

“It was fascinating,” Arek said. “The food side of the Market District was amazing, but the rest did seem to be a bit more focused on tourism.”

“The drawbacks of being a vacation spot,” Gernon said with a small sigh. “You need to know where to look. We’re on the First Island right now, and it’s the most common one for tourists to visit. If you get the chance to visit any of the other islands, they’ll likely have some more interesting stuff. However, you’re not here to talk about that.”

Gernon wiped his hands clean and grabbed a large pan, setting it down on the stove. “You’ve come to claim your reward.”

“That would be nice,” Arek agreed. “I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”

“Then I hope it pleases you. As you might have guessed, I will be teaching you a recipe. However, the thing you should truly pay attention to is my motions. The true mark of a chef is not to follow a recipe, but to be able to create one on their own. However, in addition to the recipe, I also have a piece of advice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Arek said, nodding. “And Betsy has let us know that little comes for free on the Floating Cities, so I’ll gladly accept any advice that you offer for free.”

Gernon let out a booming laugh. “A fast learner you are. Good, good. Yes, this is a piece of free advice. I have heard that you’re challenging the Howler guild tomorrow.”

“Does news travel that quickly up here?” Arek asked, shaking his head. “I only confirmed that earlier today.”

“You’d be surprised how many people have already heard about it. Lips are loose when coin lubricates them.”

“I see. So, what about my challenge? Do you think I shouldn’t do it?”

“On the contrary,” Gernon replied. “I am not a fan of the Howler guild. They are nosy and self-righteous, but all that live on the Floating Cities are strictly bound to the rules. It’s what keeps them so peaceful, so I’m afraid we can’t do much about the Howlers’ presence. However, many would appreciate them getting shoved out legally.”

“The Starpiercers aren’t much better,” Arek said, shrugging. “Trust me, I know them personally. The only reason I’m helping them is because I currently have more trouble with the Howlers than the Starpiercers.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard,” Gernon said. “Which is why I have advice to give you. You need to be wary of the Howlers. The prize they seek is great, and they will not look kindly on you for wresting it from their grasp. You are a Blessed One, correct?”

Arek sighed. Evidently, no piece of his personal life was going to be secret from the chef—or anyone else who had money. “Yes.”

“Then you should expect another Blessed One to be present. The Howlers will attempt to sabotage you in any way they can, even if it means disrupting the peace. If you fight, you will be removed from the island.”

Arek’s brow darkened. “Damn. I didn’t even think of that. If I see another Blessed One, I’ll be forced to attack them.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Gernon said, clapping Arek on the shoulder. “Now, enough of this. The advice has been given, and it is now time for the reward.”

Gernon disappeared into the room at the back of the kitchen, emerging with two large chicken breasts. He pulled out a cutting board and set the chicken on top of it.

“I will be teaching you the recipe that you were able to defeat in our cook-off,” Gernon said. “It appears fancy, but is truly quite simple. To begin, prepare your sauce.”

He carved the chicken into small cubes, then pushed them to the side. Gernon turned to his pan, flicking the heat on and waiting a few moments before pouring in a healthy amount of oil.

Gernon grabbed an onion from a bowl on the counter. He quickly peeled off the outer layer of skin and chopped it in half. He diced both halves, then tossed them into the pan. While it cooked, he mixed half a dozen spices in a bowl.

When the onion started to brown, Gernon tossed the spice mixture into the oil along with some diced garlic and ginger. He diced several tomatoes and added them into the pan as well, following it up with a splash of chicken broth.

“This will be our sauce,” Gernon explained, speaking for the first time since he’d started cooking. “Once this reduces, we’ll cook the chicken in it to ensure that the flavor seeps in and the chicken is juicy.”

“What spices did you use in the mixture?” Arek asked. “I recognized most of them, but I think a few were foreign.”

“The only ones you might not know are fennel and turmeric,” Gernon said, pulling two vials out for Arek to look at. The orc took a quick whiff of each, then memorized them.

Gernon added the diced chicken to the pan a few minutes later. He stirred it, then put a lid over the pan.

“So, when did you first start to cook?” Gernon asked. “Forgive me for being presumptuous, but I don’t think you went to a school. You’re either self-taught or trained by someone who was.”

“You’re not wrong,” Arek admitted. “I was trained by a hermit, and only for a short time. I’ve been cooking for ten years, but almost all of it has been learned from observing others or experiments.”

“Then I commend you even more,” Gernon said. “Your techniques are not bad for one who learned largely on their own. You have the core of the art down, and there is little I can truly teach you that practice cannot. Perhaps I can speed up the process, but not change it. In the end, we are different men. Our art shall too be different.”

“You’re teaching me a recipe,” Arek pointed out.

“And it will serve you well,” Gernon replied, adding in a shake of salt and pepper to the mixture. “Perhaps it will inspire further dishes from you. In truth, the main thing we seek to teach is a mindset. It would have been what I would have imparted on you tonight, had I believed you needed it. However, I can tell from your actions that it would not be of much use.”

“What does that mean?”

“Many who come to the Floating Cities are lost,” Gernon said, his voice serious. The sauce in the pan rose to a simmer and he stirred it once before placing the lid over it, trapping the delectable aroma within. “You are not. Fleeing, perhaps. But not lost. You already know your path. Recipe or not, you will follow it. As such, there is little that I can do to redirect you.”

“I see,” Arek said. “You’re not wrong, but I still don’t know what that really means for me. Are you saying I need to change my path?”

“Of course not. There are many paths to success. Some are easier than others, but only one is yours. You carry the aura of a man who has made their fate for themselves. Your path will lead you to where you want to go, so long as you can continue to walk it.”

Arek pondered the man’s words as he watched the dish bubble in the pan. The chef’s demeanor had shifted significantly from when they’d first met. He seemed calmer, more pensive. Something told the orc that he was speaking to the true Gernon, and there was something about the man that unnerved Arek. It wasn’t necessarily bad—simply alien.

After a few minutes, Gernon lifted the lid from the pan. The flowery, spicy aroma stretched forth, filling the room almost instantly. Arek pushed his thoughts to the side, drawing a deep breath and letting it out in a contented sigh.

“That smells amazing.”

“Indeed,” Gernon said with a small smile. He took a metal pitcher from the counter and poured a thin stream of white liquid into the dish. “And before you ask—this is cream.”

“Thank you,” Arek said as Gernon stirred everything together. He grabbed a closed pot over a very low flame from another burner, opening it to reveal a large serving of rice.

Gernon piled the rice onto a large serving plate meant to feed an entire table, carefully wiping any excess grains off the edge before pouring the dish over the top. He topped it with a sprinkle of cilantro.

“And it is done,” Gernon said. “Simple, yet filling. Much like life.”

Gernon’s “Simple” Chicken

1 teaspoon ground coriander

½ teaspoon turmeric

1 teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon crushed fennel seeds

¼ teaspoon cloves

½ teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon black pepper: 1 cup of chopped onion (white or yellow)

4-5 minced garlic cloves

1 tablespoon minced ginger

1 cup chicken broth

1 cup of peeled and deseeded tomatoes

1 and ½ pounds of boneless skinless chicken breast

1/3 cup of heavy cream

1. Mix coriander, turmeric, cumin, fennel seeds, cloves, cinnamon, and black pepper together in a bowl and set aside.

2. Heat a pan over medium heat and add olive oil. Once hot, add in chopped onion and cook until it starts to caramelize.

3. Add garlic, ginger, and the spices prepared in step 1 into the pan.

4. Add in chicken broth and the tomatoes. Reduce the heat slightly and mix to incorporate everything.

5. Add in chicken, stir, and add salt, pepper, paprika, or cayenne to taste.

6. Cover and keep at a low simmer for 10-12 minutes.

7. Turn off heat and add the heavy cream. Serve immediately.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“And yet I’m not sure I would consider it simple,” Arek said. “Both life and your dish, that is. The combination of spices you used had to be perfect. Too much of any of these and you would overpower the flavors, ruining the dish.”

Gernon simply smiled.

“I have a question,” Arek said. “How old are you, Gernon?”

The chef’s smile grew wider. “Nothing is free in the Floating Cities, Arek, but I think you’ve earned an indirect answer. I give you permission to use a Truesight Artifact on me.”

Arek’s eyebrows raised and he pulled the artifact out, peering at Gernon through it.

Gernon Ashbough

Male Human, Age 334

Magical affinity: Runes

Magical power: 4th Percentile

Magical energy: 9th Percentile

Physical power: 16th Percentile

Karma: 4,022: Great Chef

Guild: None

“Go share your meal with your group,” Gernon said once Arek put the eyepiece away. “If you challenge the other Great Chefs, I’ll be there to watch.”

Arek took the dismissal graciously, inclining his head to the large chef and grabbing the plate. He headed back out to rejoin the group, somehow more confused than when he’d entered the kitchen.

Ming was elated at the sight of Arek’s reemergence. The orc distributed the food amongst everyone, claiming a small portion for himself. It was delicious, but Arek found himself unable to fully enjoy it. Gernon’s words echoed through his head incessantly.

After they’d finished eating, the Happy Sunflowers headed to bed. Long after everyone else had fallen asleep, Arek remained sitting on his bed. He ran the events of the day back through his head.

The Howlers were a serious problem. The Starpiercers had been heavily disgraced, but the guild was far from dead. The fact that they were so brazen as to kidnap or kill their opponents’ chefs put the orc on edge.

Whatever everyone was fighting for on the Floating Cities, something told him that it was very important. Furthermore, the fact that he was a chef put him—and the rest of the Happy Sunflowers—at an ever greater risk.

Showing himself tomorrow to defeat the Howlers would almost certainly bring them down on top of him. Even if the Starpiercer guild managed to keep them occupied, the group was unlikely to just forgive and forget.

Arek sighed. The thoughts weren’t doing anything other than stressing him out. He lay back, closing his eyes and forcing his mind to clear. Consequences or not, his path for tomorrow had already been decided. Whatever it was that the guilds were fighting over, Arek was going to take it for himself.

He drifted off into a dreamless sleep, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. The night passed quickly. The morning sun rose up through the windows, trickling faint golden light into the room.

The Happy Sunflowers rose, with Arek and Malissa being the first to get out of bed.

“Are you ready for the competition?” Malissa asked as Belmont did his best to pretend that he’d been awake the entire night.

“As ready as I’m going to get,” Arek replied. “But there’s actually something I want to ask you.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“I think the Howlers might try some funny business. I doubt they’ll do anything like attack us in the middle of the city, but I strongly suspect that this cook-off will not be straightforward.”

“That’s not good, but how can I help?”

“I want you to come with me.”

Malissa’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You know enough cooking to assist me. I don’t know what they’ll throw at us, but a backup chef can’t hurt.”

“But I barely know how to cook!” Malissa exclaimed.

“You know more than most. You might not have mastered the craft, but much of cooking is simply following a recipe. Besides, it’ll be good practice,” Arek said.

Malissa swallowed nervously. “I suppose. But I’ve never done anything like a challenge before…”

“Don’t worry. With any luck, you won’t have to do much more than sit around and watch,” Arek said, laughing. “You’ll have a front-row seat. I’m sure a lot of people would pay for that. They might not even let you participate. I just want a backup plan.”

“Ming and I will be at the sidelines right behind you,” Belmont said. “We’ll be keeping an eye out for any nefarious tricks. One person steps out of line…”

“And I’ll zap ‘em!” Ming exclaimed, her head popping out from within the sheets.

“Maybe just stun them,” Belmont suggested. “We don’t want to get kicked out of the city—unless you need to. Then fry them to a crisp. The Howlers have already proven that they don’t care much for following local laws.”

Ming clambered out of bed, clearly excited by the prospects of frying someone. She donned her pie hat, adjusting it on her head before giving them a pleased nod. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“I suppose the rest of us are as well,” Arek said. “Let’s go meet Axon.”

As it turned out, the Starpiercer guild member had been true to his word. The man was waiting for them on the bottom floor of the inn, leaning against the wall near the door. He cocked an eyebrow as they approached.

“You ran the card dry. I hope you’ve got the ingredients you need?”

“We’ll see,” Arek said noncommittally. “I’ll be bringing a backup chef as well. Is that an issue?”

“No,” Axon said after a moment of thought. “There were no rules as to the number of chefs that can watch. Let’s go. The competition is quite soon.”

The Happy Sunflowers followed after the man as he led them into the streets of the Floating Cities. Early morning light illuminated them with a faint warm glow that made Arek’s skin prickle.

Axon led them through the town square and towards a big street near several large buildings with signs that identified them as restaurants. A large crowd had already started to gather in the street.

The Starpiercer guild member shoved through the crowd, muttering angrily as they failed to instantly vacate the path before them. After a few minutes of wading, they finally reached a large clearing.

Betsy stood in the center, two large cooking stations set up beside her. Arek raised an eyebrow as the waitress lifted a hand in greeting.

“Betsy, what are you doing here?” Arek asked.

“I’m one of the officiators for cook-offs,” Betsy replied. “When I heard that you were going to be competing for the Starpiercers against the Howler guild, I volunteered to take the job. You’d best be on your best game today.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Arek said, cracking his neck. “And where is my opponent? Running late?”

“It’s more that you’re early. The battle doesn’t start for another few minutes. And, before you ask, I can’t tell you anything about them. Not without some form of payment, anyways.”

“Nothing’s free, huh?” Arek asked, chuckling. “That’s fine. I don’t need to know who they are. All that matters is my cooking.”

“A good stance to have,” Betsy said, gesturing for Arek and Malissa to stand at the leftmost cooking station.

Like the stations from the battle against Gernon, they were equipped with just about everything Arek could have needed. There was the strange contraption that turned into all sorts of baking and broiling appliances, a stovetop, and a large drawer at the bottom that Arek suspected was a refrigerator.

Several minutes passed with no sign of the Howlers. The crowd started to murmur in displeasure. However, just as people were starting to get louder, the crowd began to part.

Five men dressed in heavy armor walked up, escorting three figures. The first was a thin, rakish chef. He wore a pristine apron and chef hat. At his side was a large, beautifully carved wooden case that Arek suspected was full of cooking tools.

The other two men looked nothing like chefs. One wore long black robes with the Howler guild logo embossed on them. His slick black hair looked so greasy that Arek suspected he’d turn into a torch in moments if the man got within ten feet of an open fire.

Beside the greasy-looking man was… well, something. It was impossible to tell the gender or really anything about the person. They wore baggy clothing with a hood pulled low over their face.

The armored men stopped at the edge of the crowd while the other three made their way over to the table.

“You’re late,” Betsy said, her tone clipped.

“Apologies, Miss,” the walking torch-to-be said. “We were momentarily delayed. Proper compensation can be arranged in apology.”

“I don’t want your apologies. Just get on with the tournament. The people are here for a cook-off, and I expect you to provide them with one.”

“Of course, good Miss. We are ready to begin.”

“Good.” Betsy’s dark expression faded and she raised her hands, silencing the crowd instantly. “Chefs, please introduce yourselves! Let’s begin with the challengers, representing the Howler guild!”

“I am Chef Recardin,” the thin chef said in a haughty tone. “I have been cooking for the Howler guild for the past thirty years and have won eighteen awards throughout the cities below.”

“I’m Arek. I cook for people that want to eat food. This is my party member, Malissa. She stabs ugly things, so don’t get too close.”

A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.

Recardin’s face tightened with anger and he turned his nose up. “Please begin the competition, overseer.”

“I’ll begin it when I feel like it,” Betsy said curtly. “You’ve yet to introduce your companions.”

“I won’t be staying,” the slimy guild member said, giving Betsy a shit-eating grin as he turned to slip back into the crowd. “And our masked friend goes by Tig.”

“Very well,” Betsy said. “Are both chefs ready?”

Arek and Recardin both nodded.

“Very good. As many of you know, Arek was recently in a competition with Gernon, which he won. I have received many requests for this competition to also feature poultry, as many are curious to see what Gernon has taught Arek.”

The crowd roared their agreement. Recardin’s expression grew uncertain for a mere instant before the man got it back under control.

He sneered at Arek and shrugged. “I’m better than a mere orc in any field of cookery. Choose what you want.”

Arek snorted. “You don’t look like you’d know if pepper or vooxor is more expensive.”

“I most certainly do,” Recardin snapped.

“Then that’s quite impressive, as vooxor isn’t a real thing,” Arek said, raising an eyebrow. “I just made it up.”

Recardin’s face flushed as he was caught in his lie. Another wave of laughter rippled through the crowd.

He snarled, pounding a fist on the table. “Is this a competition of childish insults or cookery? Start the damn competition!”

“Well, if you insist,” Betsy said, smirking. “The chosen topic will be poultry once again! Contestants, you will each have one hour to make the tastiest dish you can. Since this is not sponsored by the city, we will only be providing the meat. You will have to provide all other ingredients on your own. Are you both ready?”

Arek and Recardin nodded, glaring at each other. Betsy gestured and two men stepped out from the crowd, each carrying a whole, plucked chicken. They put the meat down on both of the chefs’ tables before disappearing back into the crowd.

“Then you may begin!” Betsy yelled.

Arek set his travel pack down on the ground and started pulling out ingredients.

“Do you know what we’re going to make?” Malissa asked, glancing from Arek to their opponent and his strange, silent companion.

“Yes. I’ve been thinking on it ever since we lost to Gernon. I could make the dish he taught me, but I’m not going to.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better than anything this moron can do?”

“Perhaps,” Arek said, taking several vials of spices out of his bandolier and setting them on the table, “but it isn’t mine. Not yet. To make a recipe truly well requires you to know it like the back of your hand. You can’t pour emotion into your cooking if all the movements are mechanical.”

“So, what are you making?”

“We,” Arek said, stressing the word, “are making lemon-butter chicken, with a few modifications.”

He finished gathering ingredients and gestured to Malissa. “You’ve got some butter in your Bag of Colding, right?”

Malissa nodded. She took out the butter and handed it to Arek, who set it on the table. He gestured for her to watch closer and started carving up the chicken. He made each cut deliberate, making sure she’d seen how he did it before moving on to the next.

“Is now the best time to be teaching me?” Malissa asked worriedly. “We’re on a time limit!”

“And yet we’ll have more than enough time to finish. Better for you to learn something along the way.”

“I guess,” Malissa said doubtfully. She frowned as Recardin glared furiously at Arek’s laid-back attitude.

The other chef stormed over to the hooded figure and whispered something angrily in the man’s ear.

Arek continued carving the chicken, setting the gristle and unwanted parts aside. He shuffled around their station, unaware of the Howler guild members. The orc pulled out a large black pan and set it on the table.

He sprinkled the chicken with paprika, salt, and pepper, then glanced over at Malissa, who was eyeing their opponents warily.

“Malissa,” Arek said, “don’t worry about them. This is a competition of cooking. Watching them won’t help us. Just try to learn.”

“I don’t know, Arek,” Malissa said, frowning. “Something about them unsettles me.”

Arek grunted. “Doesn’t surprise me. They’re scumbags, but we can’t let that bother us. The food won’t cook itself, and cooking requires your utmost attention.”

He set the black skillet on the campfire and flicked it on, adding a large chunk of butter to the center. Then Arek looked down at the pile of spices before him, shuffling through the vials. As he worked, Recardin didn’t seem particularly concerned with starting his own dish at all.

Instead, the Howler chef whispered something else into the hooded man’s ear. The man nodded and reached up, pulling his hood back. Malissa’s eyes widened. The hooded man had no eyes.

There were two empty sockets, scarred and scabbed over from a jagged scar that ran across the top half of the man’s clean-shaven face. Glimmering green runes ran down his face like glowing tears, disappearing down his neck and underneath his clothing.

Malissa cursed. Arek started to rise, turning his head towards her. Her hands shot forward and clapped around Arek’s eyes before he could finish the motion.

“Malissa?” Arek asked, shocked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“The hooded man was a Blessed One!” Malissa hissed. “He’s got no eyes, so he can’t see you. But if you see him…”

“I’ll be forced to attack him,” Arek said, cursing as he suddenly realized what was going on. “Those bastards. Where is he?”

“Standing right in front of us, but something tells me he’ll move to wherever you’re looking. You can’t open your eyes.”

Arek’s fists clenched. “Blindfold me.”

“What? But how will you cook?”

“Just blindfold me.”

Malissa nodded, pulling a thick, silken scarf out of her bag and wrapping it around Arek’s head multiple times until she was certain that it was impossible for him to see. “Okay, I did it. But… what now? You can’t cook blind!”

“No, I can’t,” Arek agreed. “But I know the recipe. All I need is a pair of hands.”

Malissa paled. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. We’re not out of this yet, Malissa. Are you really going to let them beat us with cheap tactics like this?”

“Well, I don’t want to!” Malissa exclaimed. “But I’m barely even an amateur chef! How am I supposed to compete with a professional?”

“You’re not competing with a professional. You’re competing with a pompous ass. Now get the chicken and put it into the pan, skin side down. There’s no time for another solution, Malissa. We’re running out of time. It’s not like you’re doing this on your own. I’ll be right here, guiding you along.”

Malissa swallowed and nodded. She grabbed her apron from her bag and put it on. “Right. Let’s do it.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Arek stepped to the side and Malissa took his place, carefully grabbing the pieces of chicken and putting them into the buttered pan. Murmurs rose up from the crowd as they realized that the orc had swapped spots with his assistant, who was now taking over the challenge.

“Now what?” Malissa asked.

“We wait for about two minutes,” Arek replied. “We just want to add some nice color to the outside of the chicken. This will also help trap the juices inside it when it cooks, so we’ll be able to pack more flavor inside it.”

“Okay,” Malissa said, eyeing the food like it might jump out of the pan at any second.

“Don’t look so stressed,” Arek said.

Malissa blinked. “What? Can you see me?”

“No, but it wasn’t a hard guess,” Arek said, chuckling. “Relax. Cooking should be fun. Just enjoy it and try to learn. Don’t concern yourself with what other people do. Either we win or we don’t.”

“Right,” Malissa said. “Relax. I can do that.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re doing it.”

“You’re not helping,” Malissa grumbled, letting out a heavy sigh.

The chicken in the pan started to crackle louder. Malissa peered at it, peeling the chicken back slightly with a spatula that had been on the table. It came away from the pan easily. The bottom of it was a golden brown. “And I think the chicken’s ready.”

“Then flip it,” Arek said. “It’s a bit firm?”

Malissa flipped the pieces and quickly touched one with the back of her hand. “Yeah. The skin is crispy.”

“Good,” Arek said. “Now we wait once more.”

Once the time had passed, Malissa prodded Arek. “What now?”

“Pour out the excess butter into another bowl,” Arek instructed. As Malissa followed his instructions, he drummed his fingers on his leg. “Get some more butter—about one large spoonful. We also need some garlic and—wait. Hmm.”

Arek paused for a moment. Malissa gave him an urgent look. “And what?”

“Just the garlic and butter for now,” Arek said. “Take the chicken out of the pan and set it aside before putting the garlic and butter in, then let that cook for about two minutes.”

While Malissa worked, Arek drew a deep breath into his lungs. “Ming! I need chicken broth and heavy cream! Buy it from the market and I’ll let you eat some of this!”

Arek’s booming shout echoed through the crowd, startling Recardin and nearly making the man drop the chicken he was holding. He glared at Arek, but the orc couldn’t even see him.

Malissa flinched as well, but she luckily wasn’t holding anything of importance. She shook her head, grabbing a few cloves of garlic from the pile of spices. Similar to how Arek had demonstrated back in Voulier’s kitchen, Malissa cracked them open with the flat of the knife and peeled off the skin.

She diced everything to the best of her ability and tossed it into the crackling pan. It wasn’t as nice as Arek’s work, but it wasn’t horrible either.

“Are you sure Ming is going to be able to make it in time?” Malissa asked. “The Market District isn’t that close. The run there and back would probably take a few minutes, let alone actually finding what you need.”

“Are you really doubting Ming’s ability to locate food?” Arek asked. “I doubt it’ll take her more than five minutes to sniff something out.”

Malissa couldn’t argue with that, and as it turned out, it actually took Ming four minutes to burst out of the crowd at max speed. She shoved the food into Malissa’s hands before darting off once again, keeping the pie hat from flying off her head with one hand.

“How did she even find this so quickly?” Malissa asked, baffled as she stared at two glass mason jars Ming had given her.

“You’re welcome to ask after the competition,” Arek said. “For now, focus. Add half a cup of the cream and a whole cup of the broth.”

Malissa did as he said, then stirred it together with the spatula. “What else? It needs something to make it have more flavors, right?”

“Correct,” Arek said, sounding pleased. “The flavor profile. What do you think would go well in this dish?”

“Now isn’t the time! Just tell me!”

“Now is a perfect time,” Arek said. “Relax. Think.”

Malissa drew a deep breath. “Thyme, maybe? It goes good on chicken, doesn’t it?”

Arek wordlessly pointed in the direction of the table, where he’d already set out some thyme. Malissa grabbed several branches and tossed them into the mixture. “What else?”

“You tell me.”

“Well, you said it’s lemon chicken. We haven’t added the lemon yet, and this is the sauce… so, lemon?”

“Lemon juice,” Arek agreed. “Good. One lemon should be enough.”

Malissa picked up a lemon and cut it in two with Arek’s cleaver, squeezing the juice out of it and into the pan. She dropped a seed into it and cursed, fishing it out with the end of the cleaver and flicking it onto the table.

She scanned the remaining ingredients on the table. Her eyes landed on a block of crumbly parmesan cheese. “This goes in too now, right?”

“What does?” Arek asked, amused. “I can’t see.”

“The cheese,” Malissa said, but she was already carving off a sizable chunk of it as Arek answered.

“It does. Go with about a quarter of what we have and chop it as finely as possible.”

It took her a few minutes to turn the cheese into what almost resembled powder. It was much chunkier than what Arek could have done, but she couldn’t help but be proud of it. Malissa scooped it up and dumped it into the pan, mixing everything together.

“It’s mixed together, Arek,” Malissa reported. “What now?”

“Turn up the heat and let everything mix together. Get it bubbling. Once it is, you can add the chicken back in for a few minutes before putting it into the oven for the rest of the time.”

That left Malissa with nothing left to do but stir and wait. She glanced up at Recardin and smirked at the man’s furious expression. She blew him a kiss, much to the crowd’s amusement. The other chef snarled and turned his back to her, furiously mixing something in a bowl.

The eyeless man just stood there awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. He’d clearly expected something to happen, but now that everyone was ignoring him, there wasn’t much else to do.

“Hey, you there,” Arek called. Malissa glanced at him, but the scarf still covered his eyes. He waved. “Malissa, can the Howlers’ Blessed One see me?”

“No,” Malissa said. “He’s got no eyes.”

“That’s unfortunate. He’s got ears, though. You’ve got the food covered, right?”

“Yeah,” Malissa said, surprised to find that she believed her words, “I do. Why?”

“No reason,” Arek replied, cracking his neck. He stood up, using his hands to feel the table as he slowly made his way around it. He wandered forward, somehow managing to head roughly in the direction of the other Blessed One with his hands stretched out before him.

The orc moved forward until his hands bumped against the eyeless man’s shoulders. He jumped, but Arek tightened his grip around the man before he could run. “Ah, there you are. Tell me, what brought you here? Why are you working with the Howlers, and how did they know I’d be at this cook-off?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” the man said, his voice tense. “Release me.”

Arek snorted. “They sent you to here to die. You know that, right?”

“What?”

“Do you know who I am?” Arek asked.

“A Blessed One,” the eyeless man replied, his brow tightening.

“I’m more than that,” Arek said, baring his fangs. “I used to be known as Warchief. I might no longer be that same person, but you’d be remiss to believe that I’ve grown that much weaker. Do you really think that, with the Blessed One curse forcing me to attack you, you could have survived long enough for them to pull me off?”

The man swallowed as the magnitude of Arek’s words sank in. Judging by the long pause, he knew exactly who Warchief was and was suddenly finding himself incredibly uncomfortable being so close to the orc.

“Now I’ll ask you again,” Arek said. “How did they know I’d be here?”

“A spy in the Starpiercer guild,” the other man murmured, so low that he could barely hear him. “Please don’t kill me.”

Arek snorted. “Like I’d waste my opportunity on something like that. You might want to rethink your choice of employer. Blind or not, I was under the impression that a Blessed One should be able to hold their own in a fight. Do you really need them?”

The blind man didn’t respond. Arek shrugged and turned away, walking back in the general direction of their table.

“A bit to the left,” Malissa called, glancing up from the pan to direct the orc.

Arek changed paths and made his way back over to her, feeling the edge of the table and working his way around it.

“Did it work?” Arek asked.

“Can’t say,” Malissa replied. “He’s still standing there, though.”

Arek grunted. His nose twitched as the rich, lemony smell of the cooking meat mixed with the decadent sauce rose up into his nostrils. “How’s the chicken?”

“I think it’s doing pretty well. I’m going to put it into the oven in a few minutes, but how do I know if it’s ready?”

“Does it look ready?”

“What’s that supposed to mean? It looks like chicken.”

“The crust has formed?”

“Yeah, it’s browned on the top,” Malissa confirmed. “And the sauce is bubbling.”

“That means we’re infusing the flavors from the sauce into the meat,” Arek replied. “It’s not completely seared, as that would form a barrier that stopped the sauce. Once we put it into the oven, it’ll seal everything up and finish up the cooking.”

“So that’s why we cook the chicken with the sauce instead of finalizing the chicken and then putting the sauce on afterwards?”

“Partially,” Arek said. “The other part is that keeping the chicken coated in a thick sauce like this will help keep it moist in the oven. It can dry out if you’re not careful, but the sauce will make that less likely.”

Malissa swallowed and nodded. She reached over to the oven contraption and pressed the buttons to activate it. “How hot should it be?”

“A bit over the medium setting.”

Malissa turned another knob and stood back, examining her work. Recardin glanced up from his own stand, glowering in their direction. The crowd had picked up on the intense distaste between the two parties, but the difference in their responses had sided much of the crowd against the Howlers.

“Just over half of the time remains,” Betsy called out. “I hope you two are putting the best into it! I have to ask, Arek—why aren’t you cooking yourself? Who is this mystery woman?”

She was clearly playing it out for the crowd, but Arek saw no reason not to humor her. He opened his mouth, but someone in the crowd called out before he could release the words.

“He doesn’t think Recardin is talented enough! He’s making her challenge his disciple first!”

“Hold on,” Arek said, his brows furrowing. “Let’s not disparage—”

It was too late. Mutters rushed through the crowd like wildfire. Recardin’s face turned as red as a tomato as the crowd’s words reached his ears.

“How novel!” Betsy proclaimed. “Never before has something like this happened. The challenger is so talented that he refuses to take on challenges without getting proof of his opponent’s talent! It’s like he’s one of the Twelve Great Chefs!”

“He’s better!” Ming yelled from somewhere in the crowd.

“That remains to be seen,” Betsy replied, somehow hearing the girl through the din. “But, for now, let’s turn our attention to the main contestants! We’ve heard from the Starpiercers’ side, but now let’s see what the Howlers have to say! Recardin, how’s your dish coming along?”

“Good. Very good. Brilliant,” Recardin spat. “And I am focused.”

“Honestly, I think he’s quite impressive,” Arek said.

“You do?” Betsy asked.

“You don’t have to act so shocked,” Arek replied, crossing his arms and smirking. “It’s honestly impressive that a man with a stick that far up his ass can still walk around without looking bow-legged. He must have a lot of practice.”

The crowd burst into laughter, and Betsy was unable to keep a snicker from escaping her lips. Recardin snarled, nearly throwing a spoon to the ground before he stopped himself.

“Enjoy your haughty words while you can, orc,” Recardin spat. “I’ll feed them back to you.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think I want to eat anything you make,” Arek replied. “Only the gods know where you’ve put your hands.”

Recardin spun, turning his back on them and returning to his own meal. Meanwhile, Malissa wrapped a towel around the handle of the pan and transferred it to the oven. She stepped back, dusting off her hands with a proud grin.

“Okay, I think I did it.”

“Think?”

“I did it,” Malissa amended. “Now we just have to wait.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

And that was what they did. Time ticked by. Betsy called out the time as the end of the contest drew closer and closer. Malissa kept a close eye on the chicken, checking in on it every thirty seconds.

“You can relax, you know,” Arek said. “Trust the process. It will take time to cook, and constantly checking on it before the time arrives will do nothing but keep you nervous.”

“I still don’t understand how you can be relaxed when there’s so much at stake,” Malissa said.

“It’s about relativity,” Arek said with a shrug. “What’s at stake?”

“Your reputation!”

“Which means nothing,” Arek pointed out. “I was Warchief. The only thing I want to do now is help people. And I’ll be honest—the results of this contest will not help anyone other than our egos.”

Malissa blinked. “But… what if we lose?”

“Then we lose. Why does it matter?” Arek asked, laughing. “We’re cooking. Enjoy it. Who cares the reason? If you put your all into everything you cook, then everything is the same. There is no difference between a cook-off and a midnight snack other than the number of people watching you make it.”

Malissa crossed her arms. “Logically you’re not wrong, but that still doesn’t help that much.”

“Then perhaps checking on the chicken will. It should be about done.”

Malissa cursed and darted over to the oven. She peered at it, then pulled the door open and wrapped her hand to take the meal out. She set it down on the stove.

Arek’s nose twitched as he sniffed the aroma rising up from the food. A slow grin crossed his face as he gave Malissa an approving nod. “Smells good.”

“But how do we know if it tastes good?”

“We wait,” Arek replied, shrugging. “And hopefully not for long. I’m hungry.”

As it turned out, it didn’t take long at all. Recardin, snarling all the while, finished his dish and slammed it down on the counter. It was a whole stuffed chicken, with a glistening golden-brown crust. He sent Arek and Malissa a victorious sneer and crossed his arms.

“I’m finished,” the chef declared.

“I know,” Arek said. “You never stood a chance against Malissa, but I appreciate your honesty.”

Several people chuckled and Recardin’s face started to turn red. “Enough banter, orc. Let’s see what your protégé made, although I suppose you can’t see at all. Too scared to look at me, are you?”

“You know as well as I do that if I take this blindfold off, I’m going to beat the absolute shit out of your eyeless friend and then go for you right after,” Arek said, crossing his arms. “And the more you talk, the more you tempt me to do just that. Speaking of which, you’re acting awful smug. I fully intend to report your attempts at cheating to the Floating Cities’ officials.”

“Cheating?” Betsy asked, stepping in between them.

“Indeed,” Arek said. “I am afflicted with a curse that forces me to attack other people with the same curse. The Howler guild intentionally brought a blinded man with the curse so that I would attack him and get myself thrown out of the Floating Cities.”

“Blatant lies,” Recardin spat.

“We’ll see,” Betsy said. “Nothing has happened, so I can’t determine if a law has been broken, but I will report this to my superiors. However, there are a lot of people waiting to eat some good food. Nobody is interested in your petty squabbles, so let’s get this contest underway!”

The crowd cheered as four judges stepped forward bearing plates and utensils. They set the plates down before Arek and Recardin before stepping back. Malissa carefully portioned out her meal, ladling a healthy amount of sauce over each piece of chicken.

Recardin carved his own meal up and distributed it amongst his plates before sitting back down and crossing his arms. Malissa shot him a glance out of the side of her eyes before picking her dishes up and delivering them to the chefs.

Betsy caught her eye as the two women passed each other, then gave her a slight nod. The announcer grabbed Recardin’s plates off the table and delivered them to the judges.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Betsy called, spinning and prancing in a circle as she riled the crowd up again. “The time you’ve been waiting for is here! Let’s see how Recardin matches up against Arek in a cook-off!”

Arek cleared his throat. Betsy, who had been about to say something, paused and glanced at him.

“Recardin versus Malissa,” Arek corrected. “She was the one who cooked.”

Betsy tilted her head to the side, then let out a laugh. “Right you are. My apologies, Malissa. In that case, let’s see how Malissa stands against Recardin!”

The crowd roared in approval as the judges each sliced off pieces of both meals and tried them. People quickly grew silent as they watched the four men and women eat.

After sufficient time had passed and the judges finished discussing the meals, Betsy clapped her hands. “It’s time to begin, starting with the category of texture! What did you think, judges?”

“Recardin’s meal was quite good in terms of texture,” one of the female judges said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “It was soft, with a well-crisped skin. We’ve all agreed that this meal scores an eight out of ten. There could have been more texture on the side, and the accompanying vegetables felt a little too soft.”

“An admirable score!” Betsy called as the crowd cheered. “And what of Ar—Malissa’s dish?”

“Her dish was similar in texture to Recardin’s,” another judge said. “The chicken was delicate and soft, while the skin was crunchy and perfectly seared. The sauce fit right in with everything, but there weren’t any vegetables that could affect the score one way or another. We have opted to give Malissa’s dish an eight as well.”

“A tie!” Betsy announced, clapping her hands to her face with exaggerated shock—much to the glee of the crowd. “Then the next category, good judges! Please, how would you rate the appearance of the dishes?”

The judges spoke for a few more moments before coming to a decision.

“Recardin’s dish had a beautiful appearance,” the same female judge said, giving him a small nod. “There were no visible imperfections on it. While it could have been fancier, we believe that, given the ingredients he used, it was close to ideal. We give it a nine out of ten.”

Murmurs rushed through the crowd as Betsy held up a hand to silence them. “And Malissa’s dish?”

“It was good,” a new judge said, choosing his words carefully, “but there were imperfections. There could have been more grace applied to how the sauce was added instead of a simple spooning over the top. In addition, there was a lack of diversity in color. We give it a seven out of ten.”

The murmurs that ran through the crowd grew louder, and it wasn’t hard to tell why. A two-point lead would be difficult for Malissa to make up, especially against a professional chef. Arek could feel Malissa tense beside him. He let out a low chuckle.

“What are you worried about?” Arek asked. “Who cares what it looks like? Your food tastes better than Recardin’s.”

“How do you know?” Malissa hissed.

“Because I’ve tasted your cooking. And you have passion. He does not. No man who cheats himself out of a competition with someone ever could.”

“It’s time, folks!” Betsy called out. The crowd went silent. “Judges, for the final and most important category, how did the flavors of the meals compare?”

“Both meals were well made,” one of the judges said, stroking his beard with a low hum. “The talent of both chefs was apparent. However, there was a clear difference between them.”

Recardin sent a smug glance towards them. Arek ignored him, largely because he couldn’t actually see.

“Chef Recardin’s dish was well made and artistic,” the judge continued. “It tasted good and the seasonings were perfectly applied. Meanwhile, Malissa’s dish was juicy and full of flavor. The ratios weren’t perfect, and there were some minor errors in measurement and cook time.”

“There was one more key difference,” the second judge said, holding her hand up. “One of these meals had soul. It burned with the passion of a true chef, and the bursting flavor within it set it apart. We give Malissa’s dish nine points and Recardin’s dish six.”

“What? Impossible!” Recardin yelled, storming out from behind his desk and towards them. “You are telling me that this… untrained woman’s dish was better than mine? Mine? You conspire! This is simply inconceivable. Have you paid her off, woman?”

He made his way towards Malissa, continuing his tirade and growing redder and redder in the cheeks with every passing second.

“Are you accusing the Floating Cities of being unjust judges?” Betsy asked, all traces of cheer gone from her voice. “That’s a serious accusation. While I may personally like one group more than the other, our judges are completely impartial.”

“You are a liar and a cheat,” Recardin spat, ignoring Betsy as he came to a stop before Malissa. “This little girl is no chef. The Howler guild will not accept this. The sheer gall of trying to lie to me, Recardin, is preposterous!”

“Could you step back?” Malissa asked, cocking her head to the side. “Your breath smells bad.”

Recardin snarled. “Your cheating is a disgrace to the cooking world, girl. Anyone that claims an untalented and untrained chef like you could beat me is complicit, and therefore a fraud and a cheat as well.”

“Step back, Recardin,” Betsy said, crossing her arms. The angry murmurs of the crowd punctuated her words. “Your actions have been unsportsmanlike and have no place in the Floating Cities. Accept your defeat gracefully.”

Recardin snarled and snapped his fingers. Behind him, the blinded Blessed One jerked his head to look in their direction. Green energy crackled around his body and two glowing orbs formed in his eye sockets.

He dashed towards them, magic springing to his fingertips. Malissa’s hand flicked, and a dagger shot through the air, flipping once before striking him hard in the forehead with its hilt. The man crumpled mid-step, falling to the ground before he even reached Recardin’s side.

Malissa continued the motion, another dagger springing to her hand. She held it to Recardin’s neck. The man’s eyes bulged, but he didn’t dare budge from his spot.

“You can’t use that,” he stammered. “You’ll get kicked off the Floating Cities for fighting.”

“Seriously?” Malissa asked, glancing around at the crowd. “I’m pretty sure everyone saw you signal your lackey to make the first move.”

“You’ve overstepped your bounds,” Betsy said, clenching her fists. “Disrupting a cook-off is not permitted, and your attempt to start a fight, as pathetic as it was, has been noted. You have three hours to leave the Floating Cities. A guard will accompany you to retrieve any belongings you may still have.”

Malissa stepped back, her blade disappearing as Recardin turned and, with a final, hateful glance at all of them, darted into the crowd. The other Howlers stepped forward to grab the limp Blessed One, then hurried after the chef.

“Well, that was eventful,” Arek said with a chuckle. “Are they gone?”

“They’re gone,” Betsy said. “I must apologize for that. It’s been so long since someone acted up that I honestly didn’t think you’d be attacked, no matter how bold the Howler guild was. I’ll be reporting all of this. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure none of you are bothered again.”

Ming and Belmont walked out from the crowd as Betsy stepped back and started cleaning up Recardin’s workspace. Axon trailed along behind them.

“Aww,” Ming complained, crossing her arms. “They left already! I was really hoping I could blast that guy.”

“Probably for the best that you didn’t,” Arek said, taking his blindfold off and blinking as his eyes readjusted to the light.

Ming pouted for a moment, then glanced at the unfinished meals sitting on the judges’ tables. She darted off towards them with a gleeful giggle.

“You did well,” Axon said, inclining his head to Malissa. “The Starpiercer guild will follow the terms you set down.”

“They’d best,” Arek rumbled. “And, for what it’s worth, I hope we don’t meet again. I’ve had my fill of you lot.”

“I’ll do my utmost to ensure that I can oblige your wishes,” Axon said with a dry smile. “We’ll be staying under the radar for the near future anyways. The ones you should be worried about are the Howlers. You’ve really proven to be a thorn in their side now. Especially given their involvement with the monster hordes, I would be wary.”

“Your warning is appreciated,” Malissa said. “Now, if there’s nothing left that you need of us…”

“I won’t hold you,” Axon said with a laugh. “But, if you’ll permit me one more question—are you going to be challenging the Twelve Great Chefs? You’ve already beaten one.”

Arek cocked his head, considering the question for a moment. Gernon’s words echoed back through his head.

“Nothing is free on the Floating Cities,” Arek said. “And yet, challenging the Great Chefs costs no money.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Axon asked with a scoff.

“Nothing is free,” Arek repeated, shaking his head with a small smile. “Not even that. Good luck with the restaurant, Axon.”

He headed away, Belmont and Malissa falling in behind him. Ming glanced over her shoulder, her mouth stuffed full of food. Her eyes widened and she swallowed, tipping the rest of the plate into her mouth before darting after them.

Arek & Malissa’s Lemon Butter Chicken

4-6 skin-on chicken breasts (or enough to fit in a cast-iron pan without getting too tight)

A pinch of black pepper and salt

3 tablespoons of butter: 3 cloves of minced garlic

1 tablespoon paprika

1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 teaspoon lemon pepper

1 cup chicken broth

½ cup heavy whipping cream

¼ cup grated parmesan: 1 lemon, juiced

Pinch of thyme, fresh or dry

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F or 205 C

2. Season chicken thighs on both sides with salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne pepper, and lemon pepper.

3. In a cast-iron pan, melt 2 tablespoons of butter over medium-high heat. Sear both sides of the chicken for 2-3 minutes each. Remove chicken and pour out the fat, but do not clean the pan.

4. Add the remaining tablespoon of butter into the pan, then add garlic and try to scrape up the fond from the bottom of the pan, mixing together and frying for about 2 minutes. Add in heavy cream, parmesan, chicken broth, and lemon juice.

5. Bring the mixture to a boil for 3-5 minutes. Once thickened, add the chicken back into the pan.

6. Cook for 25-30 minutes and remove with an oven mitt. Season with thyme and serve.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

The crowd offered them congratulations as the four made their way back through the streets and towards the Singing Swan. After a short walk, once the party had gotten back to their room, they all sat down.

“You look troubled,” Belmont observed, pulling Ming over beside him and rooting through her pack. He pulled out a package of crackers and stole one from her, much to the small mage’s annoyance.

“It’s something that Gernon told me,” Arek admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Don’t the Floating Cities seem a little too perfect to you?”

“Well, aside from the Howlers being here, yes,” Belmont admitted. “Do you think there’s malice hidden behind a veil of fun?”

“I don’t think malice is the right word,” Arek said. “Maybe danger might be more accurate. Betsy and Gernon have both repeatedly mentioned that nothing comes for free. And yet, a lot of what we’ve gotten has been free.”

“Free in terms of coin,” Malissa realized. “You think they’re somehow taking something else?”

“Betsy seems nice,” Ming said, frowning. “Do you really think she’s evil?”

“No,” Arek said, “I think both Betsy and Gernon are good people. But when I spoke to Gernon, I think he might have been trying to warn me off challenging the Twelve Great Chefs. Not because they were dangerous, but because my path lies in a different direction. And, furthermore, I suspect Gernon is incredibly old.”

“Magically stopped aging?” Malissa asked. “How is that a bad thing?”

“No, hold on,” Belmont said, putting his hands on his knees with a muted clang of metal on metal. “If you remember what Betsy said about all the ‘Twelve Greats’ wandering around… some of them left, but they changed the rules and now they can’t. I thought it just meant they were more enticing, but…”

“You think the people that win anything like land or a title on the Floating Cities are required to stay here?” Malissa asked.

“That was the conclusion I came to as well,” Arek said. “That’s how the islands are constantly the best at everything. The people running it have been doing it for hundreds of years. They’ve mastered the craft perfectly. The Floating Cities aren’t just a paradise; they’re also the blessing and curse of immortality, all rolled into one.”

“That’s… deeply concerning,” Malissa said with a frown. “Are you sure?”

“Well, no. It’s a guess, but it makes a certain amount of sense, doesn’t it? It might be worth asking. They may not answer us, but sometimes silence speaks just as loud as words do.”

“And it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Belmont agreed. “However, nobody seemed all that unhappy to be here. If they’re cursed with immortality and stuck on the island, most of the people don’t seem that torn up about it.”

“It might not be a bad deal,” Arek allowed. “Immortal life and some of the highest standards of living that the world can offer. I can see why people would like that.”

“It sounds a bit boring,” Ming said. “It would be fun at first, but I wouldn’t want to be stuck on a few islands forever.”

“Which is why we should be careful from here on out,” Arek said.

“Does that mean I shouldn’t do my eating competition? It was tomorrow.” Ming frowned and rubbed her stomach. “And now I’m getting hungry.”

“Maybe we can find Betsy,” Belmont suggested. “She seemed amiable enough.”

“Might as well,” Arek agreed.

Their course decided, they headed back down towards the first floor of the tavern. After waiting around for a little, Malissa spotted Betsy as the woman emerged from the kitchen and waved her over.

“Oh, hello again!” Betsy said, giving them all a huge smile. “Can I get you something to eat? You must be famished after that competition.”

“Yes!” Ming exclaimed.

“We also had a question,” Arek said, raising a finger before the waitress could leave.

She turned, raising an eyebrow.

“How old are you?” Belmont asked.

Betsy blinked. She cocked her head to the side, a small grin tugging at the edge of her lips. “Asking a woman her age? That’s hardly appropriate. And you’d best have something to offer in exchange for that information.”

“I don’t suppose another beer will cover it?” Arek asked.

“I’m afraid that one’s worn its novelty off,” Betsy said. “You’re going to need something more worthwhile. It’s not that I don’t want to share, but there are rules.”

“Gold?” Arek asked, gauging the woman’s expression. She didn’t seem particularly interested, so the orc tried a different approach. “You care a lot about cooking, right?”

Betsy raised an eyebrow. “I do. But, as good as you did against Gernon, I don’t think there’s really anything you can teach me that he can’t.”

“That’s fine,” Arek said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small wooden box—the very same one that had started the Howler guild’s feud with them. “I’ve got a recipe here by one of the best chefs in Riverfall. Hundreds of people line up to dine at her location every day. If you can guarantee that you’ll make sure many people get to taste it, I’ll consider putting this up for offer.”

“The Red House?” Betsy asked, excitement flashing in her eyes. “You know Uri?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of her?” Arek asked. “I didn’t realize her fame was this far spread. But yes, this has a recipe that she made. I’ve tried it myself, and it’s delicious.”

“Okay, now you’ve got my interest,” Betsy admitted. She called one of the other waitresses over and whispered something into the woman’s ear before sitting down beside them. “What do you want to know? Make sure the terms are explicit.”

“Two things. First, I want to know if these islands have some sort of curse or the like that makes people remain here. And second, if such a curse exists, I want to know if it is something that we have to voluntarily take on or not.”

Betsy pressed her lips together. “Good questions. You’ve gotten enough in there to show that you’ve already figured a few things out, so I think I can accept that trade.”

Arek handed her the box. She accepted it and placed it within a pocket on her dress before letting out a short breath. White energy sparkled around them and the sounds of the tavern grew muted.

“This is just a basic silence spell,” Betsy said. “Nobody can listen to us while we’re within it.”

“So… the questions?” Belmont pressed.

“I wouldn’t call it a curse,” Betsy said. “More like a deal. The Floating Cities’ purpose is to bring the greatest masters of every craft together. Normal people can only visit here for a short period of time by paying a very high price. Any true resident of the cities is a master of the craft. In exchange for their residence, the island will keep those who live here from aging. It’s a powerful spell from the mage who made the islands many years ago.”

Several moments of silence went by as everyone took in her words. It was one thing to suspect things, but it was another to hear that the islands were full of people who might have been hundreds of years old.

“So is everyone trapped here?” Arek finally asked.

“No. You can leave at any time, but then all the effects of the anti-aging spell will be reversed. So, for those who have been here long enough, leaving the islands is the same as death.”

“I see,” Arek said, narrowing his eyes. “Let me clarify that. Is anyone trapped here? You say that I can leave, but what if circumstances changed?”

Betsy’s eyes twinkled. “Good question. Anyone who defeats all twelve of any set of Greats is required to sign a contract agreeing to remain on the island for one hundred years. There are no other ways to be forced to remain on the island. Also, that’s all you’re getting out of me for a recipe.”

“That’s more than enough,” Arek said with a slow nod. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Betsy replied. “Thanks for the recipe. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay on the Floating Islands.”

She let the spell fall and hopped up, darting back into the kitchen.

“Do you think she remembered to get me food?” Ming asked, watching the waitress with sad eyes.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

After they’d all eaten, the Happy Sunflowers returned to their room.

“So, what are your thoughts?” Malissa asked. “It looks like you were right about the immortality bit.”

“Although it does seem like you can’t stumble into it by accident,” Arek said, rubbing his chin. “And if that’s the case, I don’t think it’s dangerous for us to spend some more time here. With the Howlers out of the way, we might as well finish our vacation.”

“I’m actually inclined to agree,” Belmont said, nodding slowly. “We need to relax. A mind that is always on edge will lose its sheen. I think that the Floating Cities are about as safe as we’re going to get, so long as we don’t go challenging any more of the Great Chefs or signing contracts.”

Ming eyed Belmont with a hungry glint in her eyes. “Does this mean I can still participate in the speed-eating contest tomorrow?”

“I don’t see why not,” Arek said with a chuckle. “Really, we should all just have fun for these last few days that we’re on the island. The Starpiercers aren’t going to bother us here or they’ll lose their hard-earned restaurant, and the Howlers are currently floating down to the earth. We don’t get an opportunity like this every day.”

“Then it’s decided,” Malissa said, giving them all a firm nod. “We’ll stay in the Floating Cities for the rest of the duration that the pass entitles us to. Ming, if you win the speed-eating contest, make sure you don’t sign anything.”

“Do you think they’re going around collecting the best speed eaters?” Belmont asked, his mouth quirking up in a grin. “Doesn’t seem like something particularly valuable.”

“You take that back,” Ming said, glaring at Belmont.

The armored main raised his hands in surrender, turning to hide his laugh. The easygoing gesture seemed strange on Belmont, but Arek was glad to see it. The man needed the relaxation more than any of them.

They all slowly dispersed back to bed as the day came to a close, and Arek soon found himself fast asleep.

The following morning, Arek awoke to a knock on the door. Ming threw herself out of bed at record speed, darting over and swinging the door open to reveal the heavyset man that had asked Ming to participate in the eating competition.

“Is it time to eat?” Ming asked, bouncing from foot to foot.

Belmont launched to his feet as if electrified. He squinted at the large man, a small frown on his face. “How did you know our room?”

“Ming told me,” the man said, nodding down at the small mage. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but the competition is pretty soon. It’s better to get there early to avoid the crowds.”

The rest of the Happy Sunflowers rose as well, quickly getting ready as Belmont continued to examine the man who shifted uncomfortably under his sharp gaze.

“Belmont,” Ming whined.

“Right, sorry,” Belmont said, waving his hand. “Seventy-thirty split in favor of Ming, correct?”

“That’s right,” the large man said. He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t have a chance of winning this myself, so thirty percent is more than I would get otherwise.”

“Let’s go, then,” Arek said with a yawn. He slung his travel pack over his shoulder. “We have to be there to watch Ming win.”

They piled out after the man, who was looking slightly overwhelmed. He led them through out of the tavern, where Betsy wished Ming good luck, and into the streets.

“Are there any secrets in this place?” Belmont asked irritably once they were outside. “How does Betsy know everything that happens without fail? I swear she could tell me the last time I used the restroom.”

“Three and a half hours ago!” Betsy called from within the tavern. Belmont curled his nose in distaste.

“I can think of at least one secret,” Arek said with a chuckle. “It’s fine. Betsy is clearly more than just a barmaid, so it’s not that strange for her to know about all these contests.”

“That’s true,” Belmont allowed. “I do want to know how she got past my traps, though. I made them nonlethal, but they still should have woken me up.”

Their conversation trailed off as the group arrived at a large town square. A long table had been set up in the center, and a good number of very large people already sat there. One man was over ten feet tall and took nearly three spots himself.

“You’re in seat eleven,” the large man told Ming. He handed her a red slip of paper. “I’m Borog, by the way. Here’s my ticket so they know you’re representing me.”

Ming nodded, grabbing the ticket and darting over to the seat while everyone else sat at the front of the growing crowd to watch.

“Borog looks like he might have some giant in his blood,” Malissa observed. “That might actually give Ming a challenge. Even her stomach has to have an end somewhere.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Belmont muttered.

Arek had to agree. Even if there had been a dragon seated at the table, he probably still would have put money on Ming. A bit less money, but money nonetheless.

The crowd grew steadily as more competitors arrived and sat down. Ming looked positively out of place. She was less than half of the size of the next smallest person at the table, but that quickly established her as the crowd favorite.

Eventually, a dozen men and women made their way out from within the crowd. They wore clean black suits and each bore an empty platter. Beside them, a huge grin plastered on her face, was Betsy.

“Welcome, everyone!” Betsy called. “I hope you’re all excited for this cooking competition!”

The crowd roared in approval.

“The rules are simple,” Betsy continued. “Eat! As much as you can. A new course will be added to the table every thirty seconds. If you haven’t finished the previous one by then, you’re eliminated. Last one standing wins!”

“Give me the food already!” Ming yelled.

The crowd burst into laughter as several of her competitors banged the table in agreement.

“Please,” Ming added, much to the crowd’s amusement, as she caught Belmont glaring at her out of the corner of her eye.

“You heard her,” Betsy said with a good-natured smile. “Let’s have some fun! Let the speed-eating competition begin!”

Food popped into existence on the waiters’ plates. They all moved to stand behind one of the competitors and placed the first course—a single croissant—onto the table before them at the same time.

Of course, nobody was knocked out that round. A grin crossed Arek’s face as he settled in and watched Ming inhale dish after dish without any signs of stopping. She was really a sight to behold, and he was genuinely curious to see just how far the girl could go.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Arek turned, blinking as he came face to face with a man wearing hulking platinum armor. His blood-red eyes sparkled in the early morning sun.

“Argus?” Arek asked, blinking. “What brings you here? Is it a slow day at the arena?”

“Something like that,” Argus allowed. “Although the Arena is much more active at night anyways. I’m here on a favor from a friend.”

“Who?”

Argus nodded towards the back of the crowd. “Can you walk with me?”

Arek gave him a surprised blink, then nodded. He told Belmont and Malissa that he’d be right back, then followed the large man towards the back of the crowd.

“Don’t worry,” Argus said once they reached the back. “This won’t take long, and you can go back to supporting Ming right after.”

“You’re being awful secretive,” Arek said, crossing his arms. “A little suspicious, really.”

“I was asked to ensure this message was passed with discretion,” Argus replied. “I bear it on behalf of our mutual friend, Magus.”

He hadn’t been expecting that one. Arek cocked his head to the side, lowering his guard slightly. “Magus? You know, I just realized that your names are pretty similar. I don’t suppose…”

“It doesn’t look it, but we’re brothers,” Argus said with a low chuckle. “We keep in regular communication, so it was quite the shock to realize his protégé was visiting me.”

“Small world,” Arek said. “So, what did he want to pass on?”

“Much, but I believe you’ve figured out a good amount of it already. Betsy told me about your conversation.”

“She really does know everyone and everything,” Arek muttered.

“She’s invaluable. However, there is still some novel news. It’s both good and bad.”

“Of course it is,” Arek said with a heavy sigh. “What is it?”

“Magus has discovered the source of the Blessed One curse.”

Arek’s eyes widened. “Truly? Where is it? And does he know how to break it?”

“He was able to trace it back to the Howler guild,” Argus explained. “They’ve been fiddling with dungeons all over. Some, like Red Mount, had an orb that riled up the local monsters and empowered them, causing hordes. In others, they were able to reactivate the Blessed One shrines. Magus found one of them and was able to trace it to the oceanside city, Spire.”

“Seriously?” Arek asked, his eyes narrowing. “But why would they do that?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that,” Argus replied with a shrug. “But that’s not all. Magus is almost certain that Null is involved with the creation of both the gates and the orbs.”

A prickle ran down Arek’s spine. “Shit. Ming isn’t going to be happy to hear that.”

“Indeed,” Argus said, a note of sympathy in his voice. “Magus wanted me to tell you that he’d fight the Howlers directly, but they’re tying him down with bureaucracy. His only proof is his word against theirs, so he can’t do anything else until he finds more evidence.”

“Can’t he prove it with a truth spell?”

“The Howlers would never let him get them into court in the first place to use the truth spell against them,” Argus said, shaking his head. “And the adventurer’s guild is too scared to make any moves on their own. They’ll break the balance and the other guilds might rebel.”

“So we’re on our own again,” Arek said with a sigh.

“I’m afraid so,” Argus said.

“Well, it’s still progress,” Arek decided. “I trust Magus, so now we know who’s causing both the hordes and this curse. All that remains is to go stop them.”

“You’ll be leaving, then?”

Arek glanced over his shoulder, where more than half of the competitors at the table had been eliminated. Ming, of course, was still going strong.

“Not yet,” Arek said, a grin stretching across his face. “We’ve earned a break, and we’re going to use the damn thing. The Howlers can wait until we’re done.”

Argus chuckled. “You’re an interesting orc, Arek. It’s a shame that something tells me you won’t be visiting the arena.”

“Afraid not,” Arek said.

“Then I wish you the best. I look forward to hearing of your future achievements.” Argus nodded before heading down the street.

Arek watched him go, then walked back to rejoin Malissa and Belmont.

Of the competitors at the table, only Ming and the huge man remained.

“And would you look at that!” Betsy screamed, excitement flashing in her eyes. “Ming has polished off her thirty-fourth meal and is ready for number thirty-five! Will Hugh keep up with her?”

“What was that all about?” Belmont asked Arek over the din.

“Something we can worry about later,” Arek replied, not looking away from the competition.

The giant reached for the slice of pie on the table and slowly lifted it to his mouth. He glanced at Ming, who had already started on the next course, and let out an explosive sigh.

Hugh lowered his hand, setting the slice back on the table and admitting defeat. The crowd went wild as Ming shoveled the rest of her meal into her mouth. Betsy raised a hand over Ming’s head.

“Ming wins!” Betsy yelled.

“Can I still have the next course?” Ming asked once the crowd started to quiet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

A laugh slipped out of Arek’s mouth. Any remaining thoughts of the Howlers and the Blessed One curse were pushed to the back of his mind as he brought himself back into the moment. Some things just never changed, and that was just how he liked it.

THANK YOU FOR READING INTO THE FIRE

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The humans call me Nemon Fargus. They call me wizard, and [Elementalist] and [Enchanter]. They call me teacher. They call me adventurer.
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