Once night settled like coal dust over Braskir, the seven of them left the street lamps behind and traveled east, exiting the town on one of the smaller branch roads.

  All of them carried a cheap Manalight Lantern—which the Guild actually loaned out for free for requests that had to be completed at night—except for Dain. Unfortunately, normal relics were now out of reach for him, so he carried a normal candleflame lantern instead.

  How lame.

  His Bloodlight Eye was as bright as any of their Manalight Lanterns, but he’d rather not scare off the failure four by opening it when he didn’t need to. Of course, when Yasmin questioned why he was using a normal lantern and not a relic one, he replied, “I’m just old-fashioned,” and deflected it like that. Not that Yasmin bought his explanation—she probably knew, at this point, that he breathed and dreamed of relics—but she was warming up to him, so she didn’t press it any further.

  Past a short stretch of the woods outside of town, they eventually reached the base of a small hill about ten minutes away from the eastern gates. ‘Mountain’ was maybe a bit too generous. It was more like a small lump in the earth in the middle of a clearing, with a few old tents, lanterns, and extinguished campfires surrounding the dark mine entrance.

  It was evident Mine Dermikaya was still being used up until recently when the miners abandoned it… which was why the seven of them were here now.

  Ilvaren strutted ahead first, then Kargun steady in the middle, and Sahlir in the back. The rest of them were far back, following the three into the dark mine without making much of a fuss about letting the loudmouths take the lead.

  “Don’t we need a map or something?” Anisa said, a little nervous visibly as she stuck close to Yasmin.

  “We take three lefts, then one right,” Yasmin said, unrolling the map she bought from the local cartographer. “Our cavern will be right after that.”

  Twenty more quiet minutes later, the dry and dark mines widened its throat and let the black out into a belly. Their lanternlights opened into it, warm orange glows catching on rails laid like latticework around the cart, reflecting off parked minecarts and crates and wooden pillars holding up the ceiling.

  This was one of many mining spots in Mine Dermikaya, and also where the last miners accidentally unearthed something worthy of reporting to the Guild: ores bulging all over the walls and floor that pulse blue and green in slow heartbeats.

  Pretty. Bright. But also very deadly.

  The moment they entered the cavern, Sahlir perked up and snapped his head to the left.

  “Incoming,” he said plainly. “We hide.”

  The hawkkin and the other beastkin hailing from the Akemir Continent, across the Thalassene Sea, were all blessed with incredible senses at birth. None of them doubted Sahlir. They immediately hurried behind a line of minecarts near the entrance—Ilvaren and Kargun bumping into each other and almost launching into another fist fight—but the moment they heard a clatter of hooves, they quieted and dialed down their lanternlights.

  Across the cavern, the clatter of hooves whispered out of a different tunnel and entered the space.

  They were a small herd of about twenty rockpelt sheep, all stone-gray bodies and lazy eyes.

  “Underground stonesheep that graze and feed on minerals uncovered and yet to be harvested by the miners,” Dain whispered, explaining to the wide-eyed Anisa. “Their pelt isn’t actually made of stone. They’re just called that because of the color. Fun fact, though: fabrics woven with stonesheep fur are unnaturally tough—”

  But when the herd started licking the glowing ores all over, the veins of light across the cavern pulsed in sync all at once like some living, breathing organism.

  Then dozens of blue motes snapped free from their ores, and in two breaths were no longer motes at all, but swollen, burning balls of blue fire the size of human heads. They opened their jaws, screeched a wispy screech, and each of them chomped down on the head of the closest rockpelt sheep, swallowing it whole.

  While the survivors who were lucky enough not to have been chosen bleated and stampeded out of the cavern, disappearing back into the tunnels, Anisa and Yasmin watched with a grimace as the swallowed sheep incinerated inside the balls of fire. The moment they were ‘digested’, the balls of fire shrank and returned to coat the ores again, making it seem like nothing had ever happened—and that those ores were just shiny, pretty ores waiting to be touched.

  “... Well, but they are pretty,” Dain muttered to himself. Then he grinned and looked at Anisa again. “Those are orewhisper wisps. Spirit-type monsters. Unlike normal wisps, these ones coat themselves around ores and precious metal to make them glow, and when something comes close enough, they blow up in size and devour their prey whole. The miners must’ve been blast-mining this cavern when they accidentally uncovered a whole bunch of them lying dormant for decades.”

  And then he turned to face the failure four, who were all looking at him expectantly.

  “Here’s the request from the Guild:” he started, “The Guild wants these wisps gone so the miners don’t get whisked away when they come back to work. All four of you have gotta pull your weight. Show me you can help us with the steelplated scorpions by—”

  “I get it, I get it,” Ilvaren said, already applying drops of anti-spirit oil onto her twin shortswords.

  “Gotcha, boss,” Kargun said, already squirting anti-spirit oil onto his steel gauntlets.

  “Okay,” Sahlir said, already pouring an entire bottle of anti-spirit oil into the sword sheath on his back.

  And it was like Dain didn’t even exist anymore, because the three idiots just bolted out from cover like released arrows.

  Dain blinked.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  Ilvaren was first to reach one of the glowing ores, naturally, because elves were nothing but fast. She whipped out her two shortswords—both silver blades catching lanternlight with a pale-blue shimmer—and then she dashed past the ore with a burst of speed so sharp she blurred. A second later, the ore split first—neatly severed chunks scattering across the cavern floor—then the wisp itself screeched, floating and lingering in the air for a moment before exploding into sticky goo.

  As an elf with naturally high mana reserves—and likely the innate ability to cast wood-related spells, considering she seemed like a woodland elf with those green-tipped ears—she certainly had the mana to activate her shortswords’ ability over and over again.

  ***

  Name: Galespitter Shortswords

  Type: Active Armament-Class Relic, Common-6

  Attribute Addition: +2 Swiftness

  Ability Description: When mana is channeled into the shortswords, the holder can draw in a speed-enhancing gale along the blade edges, significantly reducing drag and amplifying slashing speed. The cost of each activation is 2 mana.

  ***

  Kargun was next, grinning like a drunk in a fight he’d already won. He took off and tossed his two metal gauntlets into the air, and then they suddenly cracked and grew, blowing up in size until they were both twice his size.

  The massive gauntlets mirrored his movement. He swung his left hand, and the giant left gauntlet swung with him, smashing into a row of glowing ores and hammering the wisps like flies before they even realized what was going on. He swung his right hand, and the giant right gauntlet uppercutted another row of ores. Then he went back to his left, then back to his right, then over and over—and it wasn’t like he looked like he needed the gauntlets to deal the damage, either. He probably could’ve done the same thing by applying anti-spirit oil to his bare fists.

  All dwarves are said to be massive, but this guy’s even bigger than usual. What is he, twice my size?

  Contrary to popular belief, dwarves weren’t tiny, disproportionate people. The disproportionate part was true. The short part, not so much. Those would be the halflings. There was a reason why ‘dwarf’ meant ‘cause to seem small in comparison’ in most parts of the world, and that was because the average dwarf was still at least two meters tall and capable of crushing mountain stone with their bare hands.

  The gauntlets were frankly a bit overkill.

  ***

  Name: Miner’s Reaches

  Type: Passive Implement-Class Relic, Common-5

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Attribute Addition: None

  Ability Description: The holder can expand and control the enlarged mining gauntlets at will. The passive drain is 0.5 mana regeneration per hour.

  ***

  And finally came Sahlir, unsheathing his curved sword as three wisps snarled at him. These ones saw him coming. When they snapped and tried to bite his head off, though, he ducked—and his blade also bent and flexed unnaturally, curling mid-swing like a serpent to cleave through all three wisps at the same time.

  Of the many beastkin races on the Akhemir Continent in the south, the hawkkin were known as the race of the sharp-eyed. They lived in the mountains and hunted in the trees, much like the elves across the sea, and they also shared many traits with the elves: their love for nature, their need for speed, and some travelogues even mentioned their eating habits were much the same. Despite being half-hawk, half-men, most hawkkin tribes preferred tough vegetables over meat, since meat was too scarce a thing in the southern continent to eat for their daily meals.

  The main difference between the hawkkin and the elves was their lifespans. Elves could live for centuries, but hawkkin lived especially short lives—thirty years at most, like most other beastkin—so they were known for being capricious, spontaneous people in order to make the most of their lives.

  That was to say, most hawkkin were even faster than elves.

  ***

  Name: Ripple Fang

  Type: Passive Armament-Class Relic, Common-5

  Attribute Addition: +1 Swiftness

  Ability Description: The holder can undulate and bend the blade at will, but it cannot be lengthened or shortened. The passive drain is 0.2 mana regeneration per hour.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Rena—the only sane one in the lot, as far as Dain was concerned—was still at his side behind the line of minecarts, humming softly while she unfolded a little cooking set from her heavy satchels. A tripod here, a pot there, and a jar of fat opened like she was prepping for supper rather than watching three lunatics butcher their own payday…

  Dain, Anisa, and Yasmin just stared as the three warriors laughed and cackled and hacked and slashed their way through every orewhisper wisp in the cavern. By the time the last wisp exploded into goo, the cavern was already smelling faintly of burning gas and stewing meat, and then the three warriors trudged back over with smug smiles and their hands on their hips.

  Of course, Dain just kept staring at them. His right eye stung like hell from overusing his title ability in quick succession, but he managed to keep his face stern.

  “... What the fuck did all of you just do?”

  The three exchanged befuddled glances.

  “We beat up the wisps,” Ilvaren said, shooting him a thumbs up.

  “Ye said tae clear ‘em. Cleared ‘em, we did,” Kargun said.

  “Kill,” Sahlir said.

  Dain clicked his tongue sharply. “No, you idiots. You didn’t let me finish.” He went over to the satchels Rena, Anisa, and Yasmin had put down next to the cooking pot, yanking the cords off to reveal about ten rows of glass vials gleaming inside. “We were supposed to capture them alive. The Guild requires at least twenty living wisps to prove we actually did our job, so why the fuck did you just go out and do that?”

  The three warriors blinked, almost in unison, then made identical noises of dawning realization.

  “Ohhh.”

  Dain resisted the urge to bash his own lantern against the wall, while Rena, utterly unconcerned, just hummed happily and sprinkled something aromatic into her pot.

  “... Fine. If this is how you operate, then tell me what roles each of you even serve in a party,” he grumbled, looking at Ilvaren sternly first. “What are you, an archer? You’ve got a bow stashed away somewhere, right?”

  Ilvaren tossed her hair back, smiling proudly. “I’m a warrior. And before you ask, human, I don’t know how to cast woodland spells. Never bothered learning.”

  “And you’re a vanguard, aren’t you?” he said, looking at Kargun.

  Kargun pumped his giant floating metal gauntlets. “I’m a warrior.”

  “And you’re a scout, right? Hawkkin have good eyes and ears, right?” he said, looking at Sahlir.

  Sahlir blinked. “Warrior.”

  Silence hung over them, heavier than the carts they were standing behind.

  Once again, Dain slowly turned his gaze to Rena, who beamed warmly at him as if none of this nonsense was even touching her.

  “I don’t fight,” she said cheerfully. “I cook, tend the camp, fix what breaks, and haul whatever you need me to. Think of me as your handy porter-chef-handler.”

  For another long moment, Dain just stared at all four of them.

  Then he sighed, long and loud.

  Three warriors and one porter.

  No wonder they’re dysfunctional.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose for exactly one more heartbeat, then let his hand fall and his voice turn brisk.

  “Alright,” he said slowly. “Round two, and this time, do it properly. There’s gotta be more wisps in the other tunnels, so capture them this time. If you bottle them up in these anti-spirit vials before they expand in size, they won’t be able to escape.”

  Dain let the pause breathe for a moment, then flicked a look at Rena. “You’re shortlisted for the scorpions. A porter-chef-handler is worth her weight in curons, but I don’t need three warriors for one job.” He pointed, not unkindly, at the trio. “Whichever of you captures the most wisps by dawn gets a spot on the scorpion request, so go beat each other up now.”

  As if the words ‘beat each other up’ were a trigger, each of the three warriors lunged for a satchel full of glass vials, and in three more breaths they were already back in motion, each peeling off towards a different tunnel.

  The last thing he heard of them was Ilvaren shouting curses at Kargun to stay away from her.

  As Rena continued humming while cooking, Anisa laughed softly into her glove, sending a teasing smile at Rena.

  “Will they be alright, you think?”

  “Oh, they’ll be just fine, miss,” Rena said, steady as ladle-strokes. “They’re fools—well, Ilvaren and Kargun are. Sahlir’s a weird fool, but they’re strong. The worst things tonight are their own habits.”

  Yasmin’s mouth thinned. “I’m not sure that comforts me.”

  Rena shrugged. Of course, Dain didn’t say it out loud, but he agreed with Rena as well. If the three’s Tags were anything to go off of…

  ***

  Name: Ilvaren Shashitra

  Grade: Common-7

  Title: None

  Title Abilities: None

  Acquired Skills: Quickstep, Windbreath

  Might: 19

  Swiftness: 22 (+4)

  Resilience: 15

  Clarity: 24

  Mana: 672/794 (+4.4/hr)

  Relics: Galespitter Shortswords (Common-6), Amulet of the Wind (Common-3), Manalight Lantern (Common-2), Spirit Cleansing Oil (Common-1)

  ***

  Name: Kargun Flintvein

  Grade: Common-8

  Title: None

  Title Abilities: None

  Acquired Skills: Earthpoise

  Might: 45

  Swiftness: 11

  Resilience: 43 (+2)

  Clarity: 12

  Mana: 46/54 (+0.4/hr)

  Relics: Miner’s Reach (Common-5), Amulet of Resilience (Common-2), Manalight Lantern (Common-2), Spirit Cleansing Oil (Common-1)

  ***

  Name: Sahlir

  Grade: Common-6

  Title: None

  Title Abilities: None

  Acquired Abilities: None

  Might: 18

  Swiftness: 24 (+1)

  Resilience: 16

  Clarity: 26

  Mana: 19/19 (+0.2/hr)

  Relics: Ripple Fang (Common-5), Manalight Lantern (Common-2), Spirit Cleansing Oil (Common-1)

  ***

  … Ow, ow, ow.

  He winced, scratching and closing his right eye. If the pain was anything to go by, he really, really shouldn’t be overusing his title ability in quick succession anymore, but… at least now he confirmed the three of them had rather high attribute levels. That much was a given, he supposed. None of them were human. Dwarves had naturally high base might and resilience, elves had incredibly high base mana capacities, while hawkkin had high base swiftness and clarity. Even without many relics at all, they were more than strong enough to keep up with him.

  If only they could follow instructions this time.

  Rena’s humming barely broke stride as she ladled stew into waiting bowls. “You three want to sit and eat while it’s hot?”

  The smell of marrow and millet spread through the cavern, rich enough to make even stone feel homely, so Anisa perked like a noble presented with sweets. “Local Braskir stew, down here? I absolutely must.” She glanced at Dain, a teasing little tilt to her smile. “Permission to indulge, boss?”

  He sighed. “Granted. Then you two can help the three idiots sweep the tunnels and bottle whatever wisps they run past. I wanna… take a look around.”

  Yasmin looked at him as she helped Anisa get her bowl. “Should I follow you?”

  Dain shook his head, already starting towards one of the side tunnels. lantern swinging. “Nah. Just a quick walk. I’ll be back before you’ve had seconds.” He winked at her, but her stare stayed sharp as iron nails.

  Maybe she’s not warming up to me?

  Even still, he left the three ladies to their stew and slipped away deeper into the mines. It didn’t take him long at all wandering through the narrow mineshafts before he found what he was looking for: thin, glimmering metal threads sprawled across the floor.

  He crouched and traced one with the back of his finger. It was cold. Gritty. Webbing.

  Perfect.

  He followed the threads as they thickened, strands twining into ropes that vanished deeper into darker tunnels. Eventually, a warning board nailed across a shaft read ‘NO ENTRY’ in blunt Orbic script. Dain simply tore it down and continued forward, entering the restricted area.

  There were two reasons why he picked this request to test the failure four. One, he just wanted to get a taste of Braskir’s underground mines, seeing as the steelplated scorpions would most certainly keep them underground for at least an entire week straight.

  But two—and he recalled this fact from The Tales of Seeker Orland—there was a specific type of beast that could only be found in Obric’s underground mines. When slain, it’d produce a particular organ that could be used as a main offering for storage-type relics… and seeing as he now possessed the ability to open a portal to Belara whenever he wanted, the ability to carry around tons of materials was vital.

  I don’t remember the name of the cloak the Witch had that let her store a near-endless number of items, but something like that would be cool.

  A simple satchel wasn’t going to cut it anymore. It needed an upgrade.

  Eventually, the metal threads opened into another vast chamber crisscrossed by mineral webs. This was an older, completely harvested cavern that the miners evidently abandoned years ago—because the rails were cracked, the minecarts were toppled over, and most of the wooden pillars supporting the ceiling were bent and crooked. Still, if there was one other reason why this cavern was abandoned and sealed off…

  He snuffed out his candleflame lantern, opened his Bloodlight Eye, and raised the reddish-purple glow into the ceiling.

  Above him, dozens and hundreds of items hung cocooned in metal webs: horns, hooves, ores, and even a few old human clothes and boots suspended like chandeliers.

  The beast that webbed them there was, of course, the giant black spider clung upside down on the ceiling, its body plated in hexagonal ores like wild growth.

  Dain’s heart skipped a beat as the orehoarder spider blinked down at him.

  There you are.

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