Sid POV

  Sid looked at his companions bathed in the dull, diffused light from Rohan’s Mana Web. The fog had grown thicker as night fell, swallowing the edges of their hideout. Sound, not sight, was the better ally now. His Echo Sense would alert him to any movement in the immediate vicinity, even if the mist hid it from view.

  “We scouted the area around the cave,” Sid said. “Varun from above in the trees and me on the ground. It looked like the goblin army we saw earlier.”

  Sid kept his expression blank. He refused to show his hand to Rohan, not when he was already one foot out the door. It was a matter of operational security rather than trust. He glanced at Pallavi, then away. She deserved to know, but she would have to wait until the room was empty.

  Rohan struggled to clear his parched throat. “Are you sure it’s the same group?” The words came out brittle, splintering at the edges. “And not some other wandering goblins?”

  “Yes,” Sid said. “There were boar riders and spider riders like before. Their numbers were low, though. And we saw the shaman in the golden headdress.”

  “Did they follow us here? What do we do?” Fear cracked Rohan’s voice. Sid could hear the desperation rising. He had clung to the camp for safety, only to realize that trouble had found him all the same.

  “Should we run?” Pallavi asked. “There might be other camps nearby.”

  Sid knew her faith in the camp was dead. She agreed to take down George solely for Sid and Rohan, and to satisfy her own need for payback. She made no secret of it.

  “No,” Sid kept his rhythm steady, refusing to let Rohan’s panic spread. “That wasn’t an army ready to fight. It was one recovering from defeat. Their leader was bedridden, and their shaman tethered to the leader’s side.”

  “They could just heal him, right?” Pallavi said. “So why is he still bedridden?” Her tone was curious, not fearful.

  “We know little about this world. There might be injuries which a simple ‘heal’ couldn’t fix. Perhaps an injury to the soul or mind.” Varun repeated Sid’s earlier response verbatim, the one he received when he asked Sid the same question.

  Rohan turned back to Sid. “So what do you think we should do?”

  Varun filled the silence before Sid could. “We hunt them. Guerrilla tactics. Start by blinding them—let’s take out their scouts.” The words hit Rohan like a physical blow, his posture locking up in silent protest.

  Varun saw the flinch and pressed harder, replacing logic with raw guilt. “The camp is defenseless. If we let the enemy heal, everyone back there is dead. Is that what you want?”

  Sid almost facepalmed.

  He had already shot this down. Varun seemed convinced Sid could conjure a perfect strategy on demand. Sid had spent the entire return journey crushing that optimism. Infiltrating a guarded cave to execute a boss in under forty seconds wasn’t a plan; it was suicide. Worse, the plan hinged on a skill they did not fully understand.

  Even if they reached the target, Sid doubted they had the power to finish the job. The goblin general appeared weakened, but the signs were deceptive. His breathing was steady; his prone posture controlled. He had survived the Silkenfang Matriarch, a creature of mind magic, which suggested his exhaustion was psychic rather than physical. His vitality was likely untouched.

  Besides, they had no intel on his abilities. If the General possessed a defensive counter like Mana Shield, he could weather the initial strike. The delay would draw the guards, cutting off their retreat and ending the mission in a massacre. No matter how Sid calculated it, the risk eclipsed the gain.

  “Too risky, Varun. And we’ll be stuck here for days.” Pallavi’s gaze sharpened, her resolve clear. “Why not call in the camp? Let them handle the common goblins while we deal with the shaman and the elites.”

  Like Varun, Pallavi bristled at the thought of handing over the crystals. She likely assumed Sid planned to give away Rohan’s stash, mostly because they hadn’t discussed the specifics yet. The only thing they had explicitly agreed on was that Bunty and George needed to die. She would rather use those crystals as leverage—a necessary expense to buy manpower and minimize the danger—than give those away in charity.

  “Sid,” Rohan said, leaning in. “I don’t think we should start a fight now. It’s always better to be a defender than an aggressor.” His expression was tight, and the tension in his shoulders made it clear he wasn’t happy with the direction the conversation was heading.

  Sid understood Rohan’s frustration. He was dealing with people raised in comfort, where danger was digital, not physical. They hadn’t been hardened by the Third World War. They didn’t understand an era ruled by superpowered delvers, where the slightest hesitation was a death sentence.

  Convincing them to launch a preemptive strike was a lost cause. The odds were grim; half of them wouldn’t make it back. Most of the camp would react just like Rohan. They clung to the illusion of safety, always choosing the slower, safer path.

  From a tactical perspective, defending against an assault made sense. It gave them time to strengthen themselves, coordinate better, and take advantage of fortified positions. Letting the enemy attack first often shifted the odds in favor of the defender.

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  However, that approach might take weeks.

  Weeks Sid didn’t want to waste in this low-level area, waiting for the goblin army to recover and make their move while stronger opportunities slipped away.

  Sid met Rohan’s gaze before moving it across the rest of the team. “I don’t think the people at the camp will prepare for war just because we say so. They’ll need more proof and clearer information. We can warn them about the danger and recommend attacking while the goblins are still recovering from their defeat. But in the end, it has to be their decision how they want to proceed.”

  The knot in Rohan’s jaw loosened and his shoulders sagged, as if a heavy weight had vanished. His breath steadied. The frantic need to find an exit faded from his eyes for the first time since the scouting report.

  Varun’s brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. “What if they just want us to keep scouting? Watching the goblin army, tracking their movements. Not attacking. Are you really going to spend weeks doing that?”

  Sid hadn’t told Varun he wanted to hunt in higher-level areas, but he suspected Varun already felt the stagnation. Grinding the same weak monsters day after day dulled their edge. In Sid’s future memories, Varun and Pallavi left the camp around this time; maybe they felt the stagnation then too.

  “No,” Sid said, his voice firm. “I don’t think we’ll stay long at the camp, no matter what happens with the goblin threat.”

  The camp could handle the stragglers, provided Naga had bolstered the defense. While the General and the Shaman were dangerous, they lacked the numbers for a frontal attack. Ironically, their presence might become a boon. The lingering threat would force the camp residents to get stronger.

  Sid cared about Rohan, but he would not shelter him forever. Protecting someone from every hardship only stole their chance to grow stronger. Struggle was part of survival in this world.

  The Third World War, fought inside dungeons, had been brutal in ways no one had expected. With satellites useless and air support impossible, skills and abilities decided battles far more than guns ever had. Delvers learned enemies would exploit every weakness, even targeting families who were under heavy protection.

  Many first-wave delvers had grown powerful to shield their loved ones, taking every risk themselves. But by doing so, they kept those same loved ones weak and dependent, unable to defend themselves when danger eventually reached them.

  Rohan’s eyes dimmed, his lips parting as if he wanted to argue before closing again. The relief from moments earlier faded into quiet disappointment.

  Pallavi noticed the shift and stepped in. “Let’s discuss skill allocation?”

  “We’ve got five skills to assign: Mana Shield, Enhanced Endurance, Fog Sprint, Dark Vision, and Keen Eyes.” Sid pulled the glowing crystals from his pack and placed them carefully in the center, naming each one as it touched the ground.

  “Pallavi and I can’t absorb any more crystals. So it’s between you and Varun,” Rohan said. His tone wasn’t bitter or disappointed. It sounded as if he were stating a fact, as if he had already accepted the limitation and moved past it.

  Pallavi’s lips tightened in irritation. “Actually, Enhanced Endurance complements my strength. After chitin reinforcement, I’ve had an easier time carrying the backpack. It’ll help with synergy during evolution.”

  Sid smiled, genuinely impressed by her foresight. “I was thinking the same thing. If we snag Enhanced Agility or Enhanced Vitality before your evolution, you’re looking at a massive power spike. On par with Varun.”

  But Sid knew it went beyond that. She was inadvertently building toward a Physique skill, the ultimate asset for melee fighters.

  Pallavi lifted her chin, a small, proud spark flashing across her face before she tempered it with realism. “That’s still far off. We don’t even know the level cap for uncommon skills yet.”

  Varun shifted, pointing at the glowing crystals arranged between them. “So what should I take then?”

  “You already have very high agility,” Sid said. “The next logical step is improving perception so you can actually use that speed effectively.” He nudged two dimmer crystals toward Varun. “Take Dark Vision and Keen Eyes. If you combine and evolve them, it’ll cover one of our biggest weaknesses.”

  Rohan straightened slightly. “What weakness?”

  “I can’t see in the dark,” Sid admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “My perception drops badly at night.”

  Varun scooped up the two crystals and slipped them into his pocket without another word, already convinced.

  Sid gestured for the crystal bag. Pallavi handed it over, and he quickly sorted the stash, pushing a large pile toward Varun. “Take all the Keen Eyes and Dark Vision crystals. Just try to level them up manually before absorbing the crystals. Progress slows down later, so don’t waste the boost early. I learned that the hard way.”

  Rohan looked between them before turning to Sid, concern creeping into his eyes as he rubbed his palms together. “What about you, Sid?”

  Sid picked up the Fog Sprint crystal. “I’ll hold on to this for now. But I’m keeping one slot open for a healing skill whenever we find one.”

  Originally, Sid planned to merge Fog Sprint and Mist Blend. The uncommon rarity of Fog Sprint meant the resulting skill would favor Agility over Willpower. It was a solid plan for a normal fight, but that was before he met Tony. The crushing pressure of the Tyrant’s Aura forced him to rethink the entire build.

  Against the Tyrant’s Aura, speed meant nothing. Willpower was the only shield; without enough of it, the aura crushed all resistance.

  Sid hoped Tony would drop the grudge. He knew the man wasn’t evil; in fact, he was destined to become a national hero. If friendship was out of reach, Sid would settle for a cold truce or even just being ignored.

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