For once, I didn’t need to actually take part in the fight. I had five Scarthralls raring to go, so there wasn’t any need for me to step in.

  Sure, the stub-horned Rakshasa was a more seasoned adventurer with a lot more experience than my new fellow cultists had accumulated in total. He even proved it by slamming into them, bull-rushing them down so hard that Lujean went crashing backwards while Sigrouen was smacked down.

  But one thing I had trained the Scarthralls on was making sure to take advantage of teamwork when they were together. All those times I had them sparring against me at the same time really paid off.

  Even as the first two Scarthralls were beaten back, the remaining trio were a lot more successful. Atholaine was able to make the Rakshasa trip before Jalais’s tackle made him fall properly. Then Vandre and Atholaine began stomping on the bastard with zero mercy, refusing to let him get up, an act that was aided as Lujean and Sigrouen returned to join the fray.

  I stepped back while keeping one eye on proceedings. “Adashe, right?” The Scalekin bartender looked more surprised that I remembered his name than at the brawl taking place before him. I raised my voice after he nodded. “A round of drinks on me! To celebrate kicking out the trash!”

  When the fight had begun, everyone who wasn’t directly involved just yet had grown tremendously tense. I had seen how they were on the knife-edge of joining the scuffle.

  But then my loud announcement rang over the entire room.

  Ugnash and Khagnio burst the dam. They rushed up to the bartender and immediately demanded their drinks, and Adashe was forced to serve them quickly.

  Seeing those two, several more started arriving at the bar, grabbing their drinks and soon overwhelming the poor Scalekin with a tidal wave of orders for this and that. More and more started arriving, and I made space for them, nearly everybody ignoring the beatdown less than a dozen feet away. It was almost hilarious, especially with the context of how commonplace this was here.

  Well, the brawl was commonplace. Less so getting a round of free drinks.

  Despite me stating it was a single round, Ugnash had two mugs brimming with frothing liquid in each of his hands, grinning widely. Then Lujean was quickly nabbing his own drink through the mess, gasping loudly as he took a sip, fight completely forgotten in the midst of grabbing a free bit of… what was it, ale? I wasn’t sure.

  “To taking out the trash!” Lujean said, slamming his mug against Ugnash and Kahgnio’s ones, frothy liquid splattering the ground around as they laughed and enjoyed their booze.

  “To taking out the trash!” the other two echoed.

  It was surprising but nice seeing them get along already. I supposed alcohol was an extremely potent social facilitator.

  The brute shouted out wildly.

  “You bastards!” he screamed. “You’re all going to pay!”

  Apparently, Lujean leaving the fight wasn’t the best option because the Rakshasa got just enough of an opening to use his Aspect. It was probably an Aspect of Wind, considering the sudden gust that slammed out from him, sending the Scarthralls beating him down staggering backwards.

  “Oops, I better get back,” Lujean said, thrusting his mug at me before rushing to the Rakshasa.

  Who promptly performed a rather powerful, Wind-empowered uppercut as soon as Lujean was close. Honestly, the blow had come in so fast, I didn’t even blame the Scarthrall for not reacting in time. The Rakshasa was mad.

  Lujean was struck so hard that he went sailing straight up. I only caught his bloodied teeth flying out of his mouth before the rest of my attention was stuck on how he rocketed into a chandelier above us. Then said chandelier crashed down, crushing and impaling Lujean through several spots on his body, blood splattering and pooling around his body.

  Several people had cursed and jumped away. Everyone else had gone silent. I could only stare for a moment, mutely wondering how often violence in the guildhall went this far.

  “Ha! See—see what you get?” The Rakshasa’s voice stuttered like even he had been taken aback by the mess he had caused. “That’s what you deserve after—”

  His voice ended in a squeak as Lujean groaned. Then the Scarthrall began to rise.

  “Ow!” He pulled himself free from where a curling end of the broken chandelier had pierced through his stomach. “Of all the things to try and kill me with, why’d it have to be a chandelier?”

  Everyone in the guildhall stared as Lujean basically recovered to the state he was in before getting hit by the Rakshasa. He was dirtied and covered in blood, of course, and his clothes were ruined. But his grin and his bearing proved that he wasn’t harmed in the slightest.

  Apparently all those regeneration training sessions were coming in handy,

  “Now, where were we?” Lujean asked.

  “You—you—”

  The Rakshasa was so startled by Lujean’s rapid recovery that he forgot to pay attention to the other Scarthralls present. Who promptly chose to remind him about not losing one’s awareness in a fight.

  Atholaine clobbered him from behind, and he failed to turn and counter in time, especially when Vandre added a dash of his acidic blood spray to the mix. Sigrouen, Jalais, and Lujean all rammed into the battle too. I took a sip of my not-ale, then frowned. Too tangy.

  “They’ve proven themselves, don’t you think, Guildmaster? I said.

  She was nursing a drink just like everyone else too. Apparently, being a rich Guildmaster of a highly successful and popular guild didn’t prevent her from taking advantage of free stuff. My estimation of her honestly rose at that.

  “They are certainly, uh, impervious to most damage,” she said. She smacked her lips, somehow enjoying the taste. “Adashe, what do you think?”

  The Scalekin grumbled as he was busy serving more and more adventurers. He was handing out a drink in between every word he got out. “I—think—they’re—adventurer—material.” He glared at me, huffing lightly as he got a little bit of breathing room. “Rough around the edges, objectively speaking, but clearly capable and possess a lot of potential.”

  We all stared as a cheer went up in the middle of the room. The Rakshasa had finally been hammered down so hard that he wasn’t getting up. Well, he was, but that was because the Scarthralls had chosen to lift him up over their heads even as he faintly struggled, bloodied and bruised and clearly beaten.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Then they rushed towards the nearest window with a chorus of battle cries before promptly sending their stub-horned burden crashing through the windowpanes.

  “That’s going to cost you,” Adashe said.

  I sighed. “Put it on my tab.”

  “Do you even have anything left to pay your tab with?” the Guildmaster asked.

  Ah, so she was keeping track of the sales of the Greater Brillwyrm meat and any other payments that the Adventurer’s Guild were sending me. I was, apparently, a figure of interest to even Guildmaster Kudva.

  I just raised my glass at her like a toast. “Maybe you could forgive the window if I offered up some information in exchange?”

  Her eyes squinted. “Depends on the information.”

  I knew her enough to know that I could trust her. “The Blight Swarm is coming.”

  The Guildmaster’s eyes sharpened at that. I had kept my voice low so that no one else would overhear, but I wasn’t sure if there was a point to that. The people of Ring Four already knew, and so did the city guards, which meant word must have spread through various channels even if no official communication had come from Zairgon Council yet.

  In other words, Guildmaster Kudva wasn’t surprised in the least. “I’m aware.”

  “Are you aware of the people who brought the news, though?”

  “The Anymphea? What about them?”

  “So you know their situation, then. Well, I happen to know an important Anymphea personally, and provided you help facilitate guild matters for us, Guildmaster, I could recommend the Adventurer’s Guild as a place where the Anymphea could take care of some of their outstanding business. Things that adventurers can help with.”

  The Guildmaster took a moment to consider that. Beyond us, the Scarthralls were returning to the bar with triumphant grins, a mug of the same drink in all of their hands. They were beaten and bruised, but they were all pretty happy.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “If you can get the Anymphea in touch with the Adventurer’s Guild, I’ll waive all the… mess you’ve caused around here.”

  “Thanks, Guildmaster. I appreciate that.”

  I really needed to thank Ugnash and Khagnio sincerely. Not just flash them a smile like I was doing now. It was a little hard to believe our scuffed plan had worked. The best way to get everyone to stop thinking of the Scarthralls as enemies, as I kept believing, was by getting people to see them as beneficial members of society.

  Yes, beating up a potential spy with flimsy excuses counted. These people were inclined towards violence, especially the entertaining variety. I had noted that when I had beaten up the Ogre who had rudely interrupted my last meeting with the Guildmaster.

  It was stupid, but it worked. In some places, the best remedy was a show of strength. Or, as Ugnash had said, it showed the Scarthralls were not to be messed with.

  And it also helped that everyone had gotten a free drink out of the whole thing too. So now, there was nothing holding back my companions from taking full advantage of being members of the Adventurer’s Guild.

  Guildmaster Kudva soon left afterwards to take care of business, and I managed to slip in a thanks for coming to the guild. She was quite the contrast to the Mage Guild’s Guildmaster, whom I hadn’t even seen yet. Unlike him, she seemed to think much better of taking a direct hand in running her guild.

  “Thanks,” I said, with no small amount of relief, to my good old adventuring buddies. I didn’t elaborate why I was thanking them because we were still in public. “For the assist.”

  Ugnash smiled. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. This was a completely surprising development that we hadn’t at all prepared for.”

  His tone was teasing, but I heard the subtle warning to not discuss it openly. Especially when Khagnio jabbed with a pointy elbow.

  “Khagnio told me all about how you two went adventuring in the undercity,” Ugnash said at one point after we had been drinking for some time. Or at least, I had been pretending to drink. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to Sacrifice that swill.

  “You should have seen him, you big oaf,” Khagnio said. “Mageling can fly like a Pits-dweller now!”

  I laughed. “It’s still not where I actually want to be with it, but we’re getting there.” A handy reminder that I needed to work on Threaded Reinforcement some more. “Actually, the dungeon delve should help with that.”

  That had me telling them about my plans to use our little expedition to awaken my mana core. Ugnash and Khagnio were both interested to learn about the specifics of my core threatening to explode, which was why I needed to awaken it in a more secluded area, like somewhere deep within the dungeon.

  “Ah, I see now,” Ugnash said, rubbing the horn goatee on his chin. “So that’s part of why Master Kostis wanted us to go to Eversight Dungeon. It’s the deepest dungeon we’ve got near Zairgon. That far down, the only things that’ll be affected by any sort of detonation is the dungeon itself.”

  “And anyone else caught inside,” Khagnio said.

  “And whatever secret the dungeon is storing, according to Master Kostis,” I added.

  Ugnash nodded. “We’ll need to discuss the specifics more when Cerea gets here.”

  “Yeah, where is Cerea?” I asked. “She’s late now, isn’t she?”

  Khagnio and Ugnash exchanged concerned looks. Turned out they weren’t sure either. Of course, we shouldn’t be too worried. Cerea was a seasoned adventurer. She could take care of herself.

  But thoughts of the Blight Swarm weren’t far behind.

  We chatted a bit more after that, during which time the Scarthralls made sure to thank Khagnio and Ugnash for their support, subtle though it might have been. I was glad the duo weren’t judgmental of the new cultists.

  “Two badges in one day!” Vandre was holding out his Mage and Adventurer’s Guild badges in his hands. “I feel rich.”

  Lujean shoved him amicably. “Brag when you’re on your own, you jerk.”

  “I’m not bragging! I’m giving you all an impetus to keep up.”

  “I’ll show you keeping up!” Atholaine snarled with a smile.

  She proceeded to grab him by the head and ruffle his hair roughly. Vandre playacted trying to resist her.

  I smiled. It made me realize I didn’t really know what they had been like before they had become Scarthralls. What their ages were, if they had known each other while still human—looked like it, the way they got along so well so quickly—and so on. I wasn’t sure if that mattered, though.

  They were Scarthralls now, but they were taking advantage of it rather than fighting against it.

  As we were walking, I received a little notification.

  [ Rank Up!

  Your Fervour Attribute has risen by one Rank.

  Your Path of the Archon Apostle has risen by one Rank.

  Fervour: Silver VI

  Path of the Archon Apostle: Silver V ]

  I took some time to relax when I got back to the temple. It had been one of those days where I decided skimping on sleep via Sacrifice was not going to be to my benefit.

  “You were talking about going on an adventure today, Cultist Ross,” Vandre said before leaving the temple that evening. “With your adventurer friends, Ugnash and Khagnio. I don’t mean to intrude on your established party, of course, but do you think you could accompany us on an adventure after you’re done?”

  “I’d be happy to,” I said, glad that despite his obvious eagerness to get to actually adventuring, he wasn’t so eager as to insert himself into every opportunity he could find. “Once I get back, let’s talk about it more, alright?”

  “Sounds good. Thanks a lot again!”

  I was going to head to bed myself, but I met a somewhat sullen Sreketh on the way.

  “When can I go to the Adventurer’s Guild, Ross?”

  I tried for a kindly smile. “We talked about this, Sreketh. You’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can. Worry about things like making money when you’re old enough and you need to be responsible.”

  “You know it’s not money I care about, Ross. I’m almost halfway to Silver! And you yourself said the best way to grow is by pushing yourself to the limit. I can’t do that at the temple all the time.”

  I sighed. “I know. Believe me, I’m not trying to be overbearing or patronizing, even though I know I’m coming off that way.”

  She wasn’t short, but I knelt in front of her anyway, wondering how best to explain myself. I didn’t know much about raising kids. Before my current position, I had assumed Elder Escinca would be able to guide her with his elderly wisdom and vast experience and all that.

  Now, with him gone, I had to step up. The whole cult was doing so, but as the leader, I needed to figure out what was needed of me even if I didn’t have a clue at first. I didn’t want to stifle Sreketh for obvious reasons. But at the same time, being reckless about her age wouldn’t be responsible.

  We had to find the right balance of opportunities for growth and safety and wellbeing.

  “Think about it this way,” I said. “There’s no need to rush. Everything you want to do will be there when you’re ready. And it’s not just a matter of whether your Path is strong enough or you’ve trained hard enough.” I tapped the side of my head. “You’re still growing here. And that’s important.”

  Sreketh looked glum again but didn’t argue any further. She was smart. A good kid. And it made me feel a little awful for making her sad.

  I paused for a second as something new occurred to me. “Tell me this, though, Sreketh. Have you ever thought about going to a magic academy?”