I stared out through the tent flap, watching the stars burn cold and distant while Balt’s gentle snores filled the space behind me. For the first time since Alice was taken, I was alone with my thoughts. The quiet made room for the ache I’d been holding back, and tears blurred the sky as I tried to decide my next move.

  I knew what I wanted. I wanted to tear across this world, to crush that bastard beneath my heel and make him regret ever touching her. But wanting wasn’t enough. I was weak, painfully, humiliatingly weak compared to him.

  I forced myself to breathe, falling into the exercises I’d been taught. Slow inhale. Slow exhale. Let the rage settle.

  Let the fear drain. And in the stillness that followed, the answer finally surfaced with painful clarity. I already knew the answer, it had come to me when I was almost dead, lying on the stone, before I had leveled up. I needed to level and grow stronger.

  But I couldn’t do it alone. I needed a guide. I needed the old man’s help. But how would I convince him... how would I get him to take me to dangerous places where I could fight and level?

  With those thoughts running through my head, I looked up at the stars and said a prayer.

  The first light of dawn spilled across the camp, painting the tent walls in pale gold. The air bit at my skin as I crouched beside Balt and shook his shoulder.

  “It’s time.”

  The old man stirred, muttering something halfway between a curse and a snore. His eyes cracked open, bleary but already calculating. “Time for what?”

  “Leveling.”

  Balt groaned, rubbing the sleep from his face. “Oh, you’re gung-ho and hell-bent on getting stronger, and you’ve got the class to do it. But me? I don’t, Riven. If I were a hundred years younger or a hair crazier, I’d go out there and guide you. But I’m not marching into the wild just to have some monster chew on my ass.

  Once they get a taste of this old sweet meat, they’ll tell all their friends, and then I couldn’t guide anyone anywhere without every beast in the realm lining up for a bite." He smiled at me apologetically. " No, thank you. Hard pass.”

  I paced the tent, grinning at his rant.

  “What are you grinning about, fool? You’ve gone mad?”

  My grin widened. “What if we formed a party? I handle the fighting, you gain experience, and you get first pick from one item in every chest we find.”

  Balt sat up straighter, eyes narrowing. Then he slapped his knees. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier? We’re burnin’ daylight, boy! Youngsters these days, no sense of urgency, no appreciation for real adventure.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, stepping out into the crisp morning air. The tent flap snapped in the wind behind me as Balt shuffled out, still muttering.

  I glanced over my shoulder with a smirk. “Then let’s make it official."

  Balt grinned. "Alright, partner, let’s get to it."

  The sun was firmly in the sky when Balt stopped just short of a gorge. He investigated the gloom like a man who’d needed glasses for years, then jabbed a finger toward the valley below.

  “There are several strong monsters down there that should give us some good experience."

  I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

  Balt held up his Anchor. “My class talent. It’s called Wayfinder. Gives me a rough layout of the area and the monsters in it.

  He tapped the Anchor with one bony finger, then added, Since I’m stuck on this little escort quest, thanks for that, by the way. I get a small boost from the System and get an even better sense of the terrain.”

  I nodded appreciatively. “Nifty.”

  “It’s no all-powerful slash thingy or whatever it is you shout when you lose your damn mind, but it has its uses, Balt remarked.

  He pointed again. You see those trees on the right, and the stream to the left, near the end of the draw?”

  I nodded.

  “We must be careful near there. Wayfinder’s telling me the monsters have dug into the ridge around that spot. Could be a nest or worse, an ambush point. Probably nothing higher than level 10, though.”

  I crouched beside him. “Any idea what kind of monsters?”

  “Starter mobs, mostly, said Balt. Fangrats, wolves, and maybe a Spinecrawler or two if luck kicks us in the balls. Good XP for your level to be for sure.”

  He grabbed a stick and scratched marks in the dirt. Then, with a strange faraway look, Balt drew a near-perfect replica of the gorge below.

  “Now that’s cool.”

  “Here, he said, pointing with the stick, these three areas are hot zones, here by the stream, here in the trees, and here where the path dips into the end of the gorge. Go slow, pull one mob at a time, and wear them down.”

  “Oh? Getting worried about me?"

  Balt shrugged. “You’re my retirement plan, boy. If you die, I’m back to moldy bread and saving coppers for boom-boom time with Ms. Miranda.”

  “Man, your life sounds... just awful.”

  Balt shrugged again, nonplussed.

  “Be more, Balt, I said softly, placing a hand on the old man’s shoulder. Come and grow with me. No man was meant to survive on bread alone.”

  “How about you try not to get us killed first? Combat class or not, dead’s still dead, and combat classes die just like the rest of us.”

  “Noted.”

  A short trek later, they were down at the bottom of the gorge. Balt came to a stop. Hearing a growl. “It’s your show now, kid.”

  I scanned the terrain. The ground was flat, bordered by sheer rock walls that were difficult to climb. The air smelled of damp stone and decay. Sparse brush grew from cracks, and distant growls echoed nearby.

  Okay, deep breath. First fight since Carson. You must get stronger. Alice is counting on you.

  My boots crunched against the dry gravel. The growl came again—closer now. I felt something watching me.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  I rolled his shoulders, summoned Ashbourne, and whispered: “Let’s dance.”

  I grinned. Mentally thanking the old man. This was exactly what I needed. Time to learn this weapon system. The moment has arrived to adapt and overcome.

  I started walking through the gorge. Balt was far behind me. Giving me more space than I needed. A rustle in the thicket. Then another.

  I saw something dart low to the ground. Quick. I turned to the thicket, sword raised. It sprang through the undergrowth at me.

  I dodged on instinct, but the creature still clipped my leg, claws raking against me. I rolled with the impact, heart beating fast.

  “Shit,” I growled, scrambling to my feet. It hissed at me from the shadows. I focused on the creature, making my Identify go off.

  The Fangrat was the size of a large dog and hissed continually. Gleaming red eyes, scabbed gray fur, jagged fangs wet with saliva.

  Ashbourne felt heavy in my grip. The blade was too long. Too unbalanced. My stance felt wrong holding it awkwardly.

  Okay… okay. Reset. I widened my stance and pointed the blade forward.

  The Fangrat lunged again.

  I slashed but missed wide. The blade bit nothing but air as the monster ducked low, darting past my guard to rake claws across my shin this time.

  I mentally dismissed the box. I didn’t need a notification to tell me I was bleeding; I felt it. Come on, you’re a soldier. You’ve fought worse battles than this. Focus.

  I loosened my grip; I had been white-knuckling the weapon without realizing it. Taking a steady breath, I activated Limit Break.

  This time when it pounced, I didn’t try for a wide slash. I was ready, and my body moved with incredible speed thanks to the Talent. I jabbed the blade forward. Awkward, but fast.

  Ashbourne’s edge drove into the thing’s chest, stopping it mid-air with a shriek. Monster blood sprayed over my arm as the rat skidded back, convulsed, and stilled.

  The Fangrat gave one last twitch, then went still.

  For a heartbeat, the gorge was silent. My own breathing sounded too loud in my ears, ragged and uneven.

  A single drop of blood slid down Ashbourne’s edge and fell to the gravel with a soft pat. The metallic tang of it mixed with the damp, stony air.

  My arms trembled from the effort, the weight of the sword suddenly heavier now that the adrenaline was ebbing.

  Somewhere above, a loose pebble clicked down the rock wall and skittered away into the quiet.

  Then, clap… clap… clap—Balt’s slow applause broke the stillness.

  "Good fight, but why didn’t you try that new fancy armor talent you got?"

  "Uh... well, you see… my shoulders sagged. "I completely brain-dumped that."

  "I figured," said the old man. "The important thing is that you’re aware of it now.

  Despite what you may think. Talent points are rare things and take many repetitions to integrate their abilities into everyday life."

  I backed off from the Fangrat corpse.

  I began to review the fight in my head, my footwork was sloppy, balance was off, and Ashbourne felt like I was swinging a brick tied to a pipe.

  "What weapon did you use in your world?" asked the guide.

  "These things called guns."

  “What’s a gun?”

  "The best way I can explain is… well, imagine a super-powered bow and arrow that you can fire a lot of arrows quickly." Balts’ eyebrows rose noticeably.

  "That would be nice," said Balt.

  "Yeah, but we don’t have magic or skills, and I have a feeling that guns would not do much to the elites here."

  Elites are really something that is a fact, said Balt. "You want to keep going?"

  “Yes," I whispered, voice tight. "Let’s go again.” I raised my sword and walked with my guard up. Balt stopped and picked up the loot the creature left for us.

  I kept walking, Balt close behind. I heard Balt whisper. “You sure you don’t want to patch those legs up first? I’ve got some bandages stored."

  “Not much use, I have a feeling I am going to get bloody again soon." My eyes were scanning ahead. Pain teaches you fastest.

  We moved deeper into the gorge, shadows and trees thickening as the canopy overhead closed in. The air grew musty, wet fur, rot, and something sour that made my stomach churn.

  Another growl came from the thicket ahead. This one was deeper than the last. From the underbrush, three shapes burst forth, fangs gleaming, eyes burning red.

  My boots slid on the loose gravel as I brought up Ashbourne to parry the first, just barely catching it in time. The impact jolted my arms. This time, I remembered to activate my new armor.

  The Limit Breaker Armor manifested on me, enveloping me in silver, transparent armor. Reinforced spectral plating snapped into place like puzzle pieces locking together.

  The second rat slammed into my side, claws scraping across where my ribs would have been. But the claws found no purchase on my body.

  "Nice!"

  The next Fangrat lunged as well. This time, its claws scraped the armor but didn’t go deep.

  I was not just standing still, I countered, driving a newly armored boot into the rat’s gut and slamming Ashbourne down.

  The sword struck hard, though my form still lacked any fluidity. Brute force and desperation would have to be enough.

  Blood sprayed again. The rat shrieked and dropped, twitching.

  The last and biggest Fangrat was already on him. It moved differently from the others. Slower. More purposeful.

  I swung, and the creature met my blade with its diseased teeth. It bit down on Ashbourne’s edge and held it, black saliva oozing from its jaws. Its body had tumors all over it, and one eye was white and glazed over.

  I yanked the sword free with a roar and swept low but over-committed. My balance slipped, and he fell hard onto one knee. The Diseased Fangrat surged toward my throat. I shouted and raised my gauntlet just in time. The armor took the hit instead of my flesh.

  I felt the weight of the monster. The fury. The wrongness of the creature. Then instinct took over. I activated Limit Breaker Slash. Ashbourne flared with ghostly silver fire as I lunged upward, bisecting the rat in a single savage strike. Everything went still around me.

  I stood there gasping, smoke rising from my mana armor. Ashbourne trembled in my grip. My armor flickered away as my mana tanked. Damn, I used my ultimate move on the last monster. My lack of discipline was the only reason... I didn't need to waste that move on that weak of a creature.

  Balt approached slowly again. "Now that was better. Still sloppy, but you used your kit better."

  I was breathing hard. “I nearly died again.”

  “Yup," said Balt. "Welcome to the warriors’ grind. And people wonder why I have been a guide and not a combatant all these years. Shit is dangerous out here."

  “This sword," I held up Ashbourne to show him. "Still feels unnatural in battle to me.”

  “Learn the best you can; you are just getting started. We’ve got a gorge to clear, and there are plenty more monsters where that came from.”

  I nodded my agreement. I took out the flask of water and held it outside of my mouth and poured it down my throat, looking over to Balt, making sure he saw me demonstrating how to drink out of it.

  When he nodded back to me and I thought he understood how I wanted him to drink out of our shared water supply. I handed it to him. The old man took it with a quick “thanks” and stuck his lips all over the mouth of the flask and started sucking on it like his life depended on it. "Hey, you don’t have to suck that thing like your Ms. Miranda's tits, old man."

  "What are you talking about? That's how I have always drunk from these things."

  "We don’t have to put our mouths on that part; I pointed to the end of the flask. It causes germs and when I drink from it now, your spit is going in my mouth."

  "Germs What’s that?"

  I was at a loss for words. I just shook my head and stored the flask. "Never mind, let’s keep going through this monster-infested bullshit."

  We moved deeper until the walls narrowed; the sky above was reduced to a jagged orange. Vines hung low from the cliffs, and the ground turned slick with moss. The air felt heavier here to me.

  I stepped over a shattered skeleton, its bones gnawed clean. My fingers tightened on Ashbourne.

  Balt walked next to me now. "Remember, the monsters will get stronger the deeper we go."

  I nodded. I felt it in my bones that we were about to be in the shit. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.

  Then a low growl. Not from a rat. This one had weight. Depth. Something larger. The smell of rot was suddenly in the air.

  "Oh shit," I heard Balt say. I slowed to a stop, lowering into a ready stance. My breath steadied. Ashbourne rested against my shoulder.

  I could feel slight vibrations from the ground.

  “You ready?” Balt asked quietly, voice serious now. I didn’t answer immediately. Then, finally, with a flicker of grim humor, I smirked. “Nope.”

  A shadow moved in the mist ahead, broad, hunched, and snarling with huge hairy legs that were sharply pointed at the ends.

  The creature made a clicking sound when it walked. I rolled my neck, the last of my fatigue from the last battle leaving me as adrenaline took over. “Let’s see if I survive this one.”