Monica and the group walked deeper into the corridors of Viscera’s second floor, wary of the constant threat posed by Corrupted Molten Wasps.

  Monica took point, her senses razor-sharp thanks to Mana Sense. She was the unspoken lynchpin of the group: the most experienced in fighting these Wasps, the one who had trekked this infernal level alone. Now, with her companions in tow, she tried to keep them coordinated—yet something within her felt off.

  Earlier that day, they had already clashed with a patrol of Soldier Wasps and wiped them out more cleanly than ever before. Their new equipment, painstakingly crafted under Dworsul’s watchful eye, proved invaluable: Sir Tristan’s shield drew the attention of the largest Soldiers and blocked resin sprays, Heidi’s staff amplified her spells to searing effect, and Dotty had capitalized on Tristan’s taunt to finish each pinned Wasp with ruthless agility.

  However, in the final moments of that fight, Ted’s Bardic song—his new Battle Conductor Skill—had misaligned strangely with Monica’s pulse. Instead of their energies flowing together in perfect harmony, Monica felt jagged bursts of frustration prickle across her limbs. She had found herself overshooting a leap, nearly slamming into the ground so hard she would have broken a leg if not for her agility.

  When yet anothert Wasp fell, leaving the party splattered in sizzling gore, Ted’s chords died away, and the Bard approached Monica with a worried frown.

  “Dude, what’s up with you? You feel weird.”

  Monica looked at her Obsidian Flame's levels.

  *Ding*

  Offensive Skill – Obsidian Flame Lv. 97

  The Obsidian Flame had kept rising at a staggering pace as they had been killing more and more Wasps. And now…

  *Ding*

  The Obsidian Flame is currently twenty levels higher than the Golden Flame, creating an imbalance in your body.

  Your mind is angrier and you behave more aggressively.

  Current Unbalance: Large.

  “I’m feeling a bit off,” she admitted softly, though her voice shook with tightly reined emotion. A flicker of black flame danced across her knuckles before vanishing. “The Obsidian Flame is now higher leveled than the Golden Flame. I had to rely on it too much down here—both for forging and fighting—and it’s creating a…an internal clash. It’s making me edgy.”

  Ted’s grip tightened on the neck of his mandolin. “Edgy?” he echoed, concern deepening in his hazel eyes.

  Monica nodded, chewing her bottom lip. The truth was that she felt more than edgy—she felt coiled like a viper, ready to snap for any reason at all. It reminded her of the day she had tapped heavily into the Obsidian Flame’s vitality-burning synergy and nearly lost herself in its destructive rush. Needles in the skin, she thought grimly, gooseflesh prickling her arms. Everything in me wants to lash out, to tear something apart.

  I need to level up the Golden Flame more, but I can't just take damage. The Golden Flame is too high-leveled now and it's not enough. I need to do something with it, but now that I can burn Vitality to empower Skills through the Obsidian Flame... how is the gap not going to get bigger and bigger?

  It was a legitimate question, and a hard one to answer.

  Her only hope to maintain her sanity was to push the Golden Flame's Skill Efficiency to 10%, thus making it so that it would reach Bronze Rank.

  "So, don't we need to make a push to retrieve the fragments of the spear of Dhoznil?" Sir Tristan asked.

  "Do you happen to know where they are?" Dworsul asked, raising an eyebrow.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Everyone turned toward Monica, who recited the same words that she had heard in her vision.

  "One is behind wards in the Blacksmith District. One in the Deep Furnace. One in your forge, Dworsul," Monica said.

  The legendary Blacksmith frowned when Monica mentioned his own forge, but he didn't say anything.

  "The Deep Furnace is in the Great Forge, where the Boss of these filthy parasites resides. The Avatar has already seen it and assessed its power. Your lot needs to be much stronger than this to entertain a fight with the entire nest."

  "Isn't there something we can use?" Heidi asked. "Gromorlig had Dotty activate the traps on the first floor. Are there any traps here?"

  Dworsul shook his head.

  "The environment here is so hostile that only those who learn Fire Breathing can survive. We didn't need traps to keep anyone out of here. In fact, no one had ever wanted to breach this level in the first place."

  "So," Monicas shrugged, "the plan seems pretty simple. We kill as many Wasps as we can as they roam the tunnels. We forge more equipment. We retrieve the first fragment in the Blacksmith District, and then we go for the Great Forge as soon as we have enough levels. Is that all?"

  "For now, yes," Dworsul nodded. "Remember, Avatar, I am the only one who can tell you how to retrieve the fragments and how to put them back together. If you want the Spear of Dhoznil, the Great Forge must survive at all costs."

  "I know, I know," Monica nodded.

  Dworsul had been dead set on maintaining the heritage of Dwarves and Monica was pretty sure that he wasn't kidding. If they didn't manage to give him the Great Forge back as it was meant to be, the legendary Blacksmith might very well never tell her what she needed to do to put the Spear of Dhoznil together.

  In fact, Monica still didn't understand how she herself could possibly put it together.

  Now that she had an understanding of forging, she knew just how hard it was and what an incredible feat it would be to repair the Spear of Dhoznil, a Divine Weapon that would be capable of slaying Machina.

  And it was important—it was supremely important to Monica that they succeed.

  The reason why it was so important was that Machina had said she could give her back her kids. That her kids, Peggy and Bobby, would be back in her embrace if she won, if she killed the Old Goddess.

  * * *

  They kept fighting all the Soldier Wasps they encountered, with Monica trying to pull back as much as she could, leaving most of the kills to the others. Thanks to the equipment that Dworsul had her forge, however, no one had taken any real damage so far. Sir Tristan had a few scratches from the impact with the Wasps, but other than that, the Wasps hadn't even gotten close to the squishy members of the group, much less hurt Sir Tristan or Monica in any significant way.

  After the latest engagement—eight Soldier Wasps, each incinerated or left in broken heaps—Monica found her interface awash in messages about minor level gains for her allies. A glimmer of satisfaction shone in her eyes. At least they’re getting stronger—maybe they’ll be able to help kill the Queen before she spawns an endless horde.

  Now that Monica had Sir Tristan on her side, who could easily pull the spitters toward the ground for Dotty to slay, she could focus on the Soldiers. Empowered by Ted's music and with Heidi's support fire, Monica was virtually untouchable in battle.

  But that, sadly, was the problem.

  *Ding*

  Offensive Skill – Obsidian Flame Lv. 99

  The Golden Flame had somehow stopped leveling up and it was just Level 25.

  *Ding*

  The Obsidian Flame is currently twenty-five levels higher than the Golden Flame, creating an imbalance in your body.

  Your mind is obfuscated by anger and your behavior grows reckless.

  Current Unbalance: Great.

  The Obsidian Flame was now twenty-five full levels above the Golden Flame. Already, she’d felt her patience slipping, tension building behind her left temple like a pulsating headache. Now, the effect intensified. Black veins briefly flickered across her wrists, and she nearly hissed through her teeth at the sharp needling under her skin.

  No one else seemed to notice—except Ted. He angled closer to her, mandolin tucked under one arm, as the others poked around a partially collapsed dwarven workshop.

  “Dude,” Ted said, voice hushed, “are you sure you’re okay?”

  "It's the Obsidian Flame," Monica said. "I don't have anything to use the Golden Flame for." Her voice came raspy and throaty.

  "Look," Ted said hesitantly, "I actually think I've kinda got a solution."

  "Ted," Monica quipped, "not even helping you guys with the Fire Breathing did nothing to the Golden Flame. I tried getting more damage and healing it, but it's not enough."

  "I know," Ted cleared his voice. "Listen, I have not mastered this Skill, so it's a bit dangerous to use with the others. But... if you trusted me, I think this could maybe help us both."

  Monica looked at Ted, not understanding what the Bard was telling her.

  "I have a new Skill," he told her. "Just... let's get some privacy."