No… just… ignore it, Veronica told herself.
She turned and resumed walking down the street.
“Haha! That’s three wins now,” someone said behind her.
She glanced back despite herself. It was the man seated on the left, leaning back in his chair with a grin as he scooped up a small stack of coins.
Veronica didn’t realize she’d stopped until a passerby brushed past her shoulder.
She clenched her jaw.
Leisure had been rare in Annesheim. Until she reached a stable enough tier, she’d been forbidden from leaving the academy without permission.
Don’t indulge. Don’t wander. Don’t do anything naughty.
The stricter the rules became, the more she wanted to break them.
So she did.
When she was around eleven, she began sneaking out at night—slipping from her dorm when no one was watching. Wrapped in oversized clothes so that no one would recognize her; she wandered the city in secret, alone.
Annesheim experienced very little crime within its walls. No one was foolish enough to commit anything serious in the King’s own city—especially one guarded by hundreds of the strongest mages in the world.
So she explored freely. She passed shops and vendors, entertainment halls and theaters, even late-night battlegrounds still echoing with noise.
It was in the southwestern quarter of the city that she met Victor.
He was just a normal, middle-aged man who spent most evenings at a bar. She’d first seen him playing games there, laughing loudly, losing and winning in equal measure. Curious, she lingered there to watch. As long as she didn’t drink or cause trouble, no one chased her out or gave her trouble. Not even the guards that patrolled the city.
Week after week, she watched the adults gamble away their hard-earned coin. Joy. Regret. Laughter. Anger.
One night, Victor noticed her—always standing there, silently, watching with fascination.
Eventually, he taught her how to play. Not with her own money—never that. He’d place a small wager, five vix or so, and let her call the plays.
“Haha! You’re a natural! That blank face of yours is perfect for playing cards!” he’d say.
It was… fun.
Different from studying. Wrong to do. And yet—she’d been happy.
Veronica exhaled slowly.
Just once won’t hurt. One hour. I already reached Tier-3 faster than expected. The world won’t end if I sit still for an hour.
Her eyes looked up.
Still plenty of daylight left.
That was the excuse she gave herself—before turning on her heel and walking back toward the table.
The dealer glanced up as she approached. The way she’d left, then returned seconds later, didn’t escape him. His smile widened.
“Care for a game, miss?”
Veronica met his eyes and took the empty seat at the center.
“How do I play?”
He smiled. “Name’s Rick. I’m the dealer here. Rules are simple.” He slid a small leather cup across the table. Veronica peered inside—two six-sided dice rested at the bottom.
“You roll two,” Rick said. He lifted his own cup and set it down, letting her see the single die inside. “I roll one. But before either of us rolls, you call Bound or Split.”
“Which means?” she asked.
“If you call bound,” Rick explained, “you add your two dice together. If the total beats mine by four, you earn one point. You also win if you roll doubles, regardless of who scored higher.”
“And if I don’t score higher?” Veronica asked.
“Then I get two points,” he said easily.
She nodded. “And split?”
Rick’s smile widened slightly. “Your dice are judged separately. Any die that beats mine earns you one point. Win with both, and you get two. Likewise, if any of mine beat yours, I get a point. I win with both, I get both points.”
Veronica’s eyes narrowed. “And if it’s a tie?”
He leaned forward a fraction. “Then we re-roll all dice that tie. If only one of your dice ties with mine, whatever outcome your other dice had still counts. So if I roll a five, and you roll a five and a six—we would both re-roll the fives, but you’d still get a point for beating me with a six.”
“And that’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” Rick said. “First to reach three points wins. One more thing—payout for this game is only fifty percent of your bet. But if you win any split round with both dice, the payout becomes one hundred percent if you win the game.”
Veronica’s gaze sharpened as she leaned back, considering it.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Bound was the safe choice. Two dice meant a range from two to twelve. Rick’s single die only went from one to six. The odds leaned heavily in her favor; however, each win earned just one point. She would need three clean victories in a row. But with those odds, it still seemed safe to bet on. Especially with the doubles rule.
Split was even riskier. Winning with both would nearly guarantee her the game. Simply calling bound for the next round—statistically, she’d be golden.
But the payout… that was the trick. At a payout of fifty percent, she would need to win two full games just to double her bet and cover her losses if she happened to win a game.
Play it safe and inch forward. Or gamble with even odds for a chance at a higher payout.
“Alright,” Veronica said after a moment. “I think I’ve got it.”
Rick nodded approvingly. “Perfect. How much would you like to wager? Minimum’s ten vix. Maximum’s two hundred.” He paused. “Or we can do a practice round first.”
Veronica shook her head. “No. I’ll wager.”
“How much?”
“Ten vix,” she replied, passing over the coin.
He accepted it with a nod and slid the cup toward her. “Call it.”
Veronica glanced at the dice, then at Rick’s cup, considering the odds she’d just worked through in her head.
“Bound,” she said.
Rick lifted his cup and rolled. The die clattered once before settling.
Four.
Veronica took her own cup and rolled in turn. The dice spilled out onto the tabletop.
Three and five.
Eight.
Rick smiled and slid a small marker toward her. “That’s four higher than mine. One point. Nice job.”
Simple and efficient. Just as she’d expected.
The woman seated to her left leaned in slightly. “Most people get nervous their first round.”
Veronica barely spared her a glance. “I don’t see why.”
Rick reset his die back into the cup. “Second round.”
Again she called bound. Again the rolls favored her. Four, and two, making six—beating his two. Another point added to her total, bringing her to two.
At that threshold, calling bound would nearly guarantee her the win. That would turn her ten vix into fifteen vix.
As Veronica’s hand touched the top of the cup, her thoughts drifted back to when she was younger in Annesheim.
“Listen, Vee. Some of us—we don’t play for the money. Plenty of them do, yeah. But not all of us. Some—we’re just in for the thrill. That feel-good feeling, alright? Make sure you go in with what you’d be fine losing. More often than not—you will be.”
“But… you’re losing money. Don’t you work for your money?” she’d asked.
Victor had laughed then. A hearty, genuine laugh. It took him a while to calm down before answering.
“You got a good head on your shoulders, Vee. But don’t think we’re playin’ without knowing. What good is money if you can’t enjoy it? Some of those noble folk hoard the stuff, but they ain’t never spent it. They buy themselves fancy meals and spend the rest just to make more money. Piles and piles ‘a vix, yet never a genuine laugh from their throats. Sad, really.”
He’d lay another card down and keep talking—life lessons about the common folk.
“Sometimes, you gotta live in the moment. No one knows if you’ll kick the bucket tomorrow. Savings are good and all—but not if they make you miserable. We work, and we play. That’s all there is to it.”
Veronica’s eyes refocused on the table in front of her. The small box containing Rick’s vix pieces held her gaze for several moments.
“Split,” she said.
The woman beside her made a quiet sound of a whistle. “There it is. That’s what we like to see.”
Rick smiled and rolled first.
Two.
Low enough that Veronica’s chances jumped sharply. She rolled, letting the dice tumble freely.
Four. Six.
A murmur passed through the onlookers, some clapping and congratulating her on her first game. Rick laughed softly and slid twenty vix to her. “That’s three. You won the game with split, so here’s double of your bet. Well played.”
Veronica gathered the coins, weighing them briefly in her palm. Then, without quite deciding to do it, she slid them back across.
“Again,” she said, smiling.
Rick’s expression shifted—subtle, yet approving. “Very well.”
The rounds blurred together after that.
Sometimes she played it safe, choosing bound and taking slow, steady points. Other times she risked split, chasing faster gains. She won some. Lost others. Coins changed hands. Players rotated in and out. At some point, the crowd grew thicker, drawn by the tension and the ease with which she seemed to read the table.
She could have had Sage give her the most optimal plays in each round. But that's not why she was here.
That wasn't the feel-good feeling Victor had talked about.
Soon, Veronica stopped tracking time altogether.
She just played, and played.
[Veronica. You have spent one hour and twenty seven minutes here. The one hour limit you set on yourself has been breached. This is your fourth reminder.]
Veronica sighed. It was like Viya’s voice echoing in her head. And this wasn’t even Sage’s first warning.
Veronica, you need to stop.
Stop gambling! You’re going to lose all your money!
I don’t care you won four times!
Is it Victor again? Where is he?!
You traded away Artemis in a betting match?!
Viya had come back to haunt her in the form of sage.
She coughed into her hand. “I think I’ll call it here. I have… other places to go.”
The crowd groaned as she stood. She’d been there long enough that people had started watching—enjoying the rise and fall, the near misses. Rick’s face fell slightly. “Very well. It was a pleasure playing with you, Veronica.”
He slid over 100 Vix to her for winning a double split round. She currently had three points, and she had bet 50 Vix. That meant doubling her bet.
She waved, bidding Rick goodbye as she turned on her heel, walking away with glee. It seemed like Lady Luck had blessed this day. The pouch she had of vix was slightly larger now. Originally two thousand vix—she now had two thousand four hundred.
No one knows if you’ll kick the bucket tomorrow.
Victor’s voice rose unbidden in her thoughts.
He had been right about that. The demon invasion had come so suddenly that many died without warning—no time for goodbyes, no time for questions. Just… gone.
Sometimes that was a mercy.
Other times, it was the cruelest ending of all.
For her, Victor’s death had been the latter. He’d perished somewhere out there without her knowing, like so many others. And yet… she couldn’t picture him afraid. If anything, she could imagine him laughing, cards in hand, chasing that “feel-good” thrill he’d always preached about.
He had lived the way he wanted.
A bittersweet smile touched Veronica’s lips.
The present crept back in as the street noise swelled around her; people went about their regular lives. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her map, resuming her journey.
After a few minutes, the adventurer’s guild came into view—a broad, two-story structure of dark oak and gray stone. Its sign hung from thick chains, carved with the guild’s emblem: a crossed sword and quill. The building looked like it had once been a tavern; its front had been remodeled into something sturdier and cleaner, but still kept the smell of ale and wood-smoke.
Inside, the atmosphere was familiar but livelier than Greystone’s smaller taverns. People sat around tables, while other groups were up at bulletin boards, reading and looking at notices.
Three clerks worked behind a long wooden counter, while groups of adventurers sat around heavy tables, discussing contracts or polishing weapons. A stairway to the right led to an upper floor where the guild’s record rooms likely sat.
Veronica paused near the entrance for a moment, taking it all in. She had only stepped into an adventurer’s guild a handful of times before—mostly out of curiosity. Registration had never been a priority for her back then. By the time she reached the Ninth Tier, she’d been granted honorary S-rank status automatically. She’d never even taken the test.
But that had been another life.
She walked toward the counter, quiet confidence in her stride. The clerk in the middle—a young woman with chestnut hair tied neatly back—looked up from her ledger and offered a professional smile. Veronica noticed her pointed ears.
An elf.
“Welcome to the Ronswick Adventurer’s Guild,” she greeted. “My name is Melinda. How may I help you today?”
Don't gamble kids.
Path of Combination Bonus: Today is Path of Frailty and Path of Tempests
All in: Red or Black
