While Mira was undergoing training, her village and army—two key aspects of her power—were developing, expanding, and changing. Tyler liked the first two aspects. He didn’t like the third. Not everyone was happy in Wraithwood village, and strange power dynamics were popping up everywhere. There was a full-blown pecking order in the military with a man named Ikala Papan as the leader, a third-evolution soldier imported from the Second Domain.

  Despite looking like a middle-aged version of Kratos from God of War, a bodybuilder with short balding hair and a long beard, he didn’t flaunt his strength or prestige. But Tyler could tell by people’s expressions that he was important, and when people spoke to him, they whispered to him as though he were a godfather.

  Those close to him claimed that it was because the strong respect the strong, and Ikala was the undisputed champion of those from the Second Domain. But the lurvine knew Ikala was involved in something. No, everyone knew—the lurvine were certain.

  Despite that, the one person who could put an end to any conspiracies was Malo, and he was holed up around his own personal campfire, back against a tree as usual, holding a mug of beer he had only drunk a fourth of. That meant that it was a decent day. If it were an extra depressing day, he wouldn’t’ve drunk any at all. He would’ve just stared into dead space and breathed.

  That depression bothered Tyler deeply. Malo was his mentor, teacher, and friend. He even voluntarily trained Tyler. Like Kalas, Malo only taught him direct combat, but he didn’t mind that because he let Tyler test his spells. It was the first time since Mira had bought Tyler the Fundamentals of Battle Magic skill that he had been able to use it, and it helped him to retain his sanity. Tyler was grateful to Malo; he respected him and viewed him as a friend. That’s why it was so difficult to watch the man suffer—but there was nothing anyone could do about it. And so, despite that nagging voice that says that you can make the difference and “fix” any given person, Tyler learned to accept Malo’s depression as a core aspect of his personality instead of something “fixable.”

  That said, there were times—like the present—where that depression was a liability. The army was getting rowdy, and strange things were happening with Ikala and his group, and Malo was just sitting around instead of demanding that General Ikina instill Mira’s will into the military.

  That wasn’t acceptable.

  Tyler strode through the military grounds, weaving between curling cookfires that added hazy hues to the twilight sky. Work was over, and the troops were playing cards, or carving statues from firewood while they chatted about whatever they wanted to chat about—usually women, power, or bitterness. Sometimes all. Always aggressively.

  The soldiers saw Tyler and stopped their games and conversations to stare and sneer and silently slit his throat.

  Tyler only gained validation from that as he strode up to Malo, and said, quite indignantly and with a pompous attitude, “You see what’s happening right?”

  The whole area fell silent to listen.

  “Are you trying to earn enemies?” Malo asked, not even looking up.

  “No, I’m doing my job. Mira left Wraithwood in our care, and right now, shit’s getting out of hand and no one’s doing anything about it.”

  “Oh, so it’s about Wraithwood? It has nothing to do with Sarah?”

  Tyler shut down, disregarding the overall picture and being dragged into the reason he was angry about the military. That was only natural. Sarah was Tyler’s girlfriend, and she was getting approached by a soldier who wouldn’t take no for an answer. That had nothing to do with the military directly, but it had everything to do with it, too, for reasons he found difficult to articulate. But it all came down to the military’s culture—the habits, laws, and beliefs. They were different in Dronami, so people were ignoring behavior that was illegal or taboo in modern America—and Wraithwood was modeled after his world’s customs.

  That was only one of the problems, but the way that Malo cornered him made him double down on his weakest argument—and he immediately faltered.

  “Yeah, it does,” Tyler said. “But that’s a symptom of the problem.”

  “And what’s the problem?” Malo asked.

  “You know,” Tyler said nervously, “harassment.”

  “So are you saying that hundreds of people are… harassing people?”

  Tyler flushed when he felt the eyes of troops burrowing into him from all angles.

  “No. But the military isn’t doing anything to combat harassment. Rickland has approached Sarah three times this week, twelve times since she said she wasn’t interested.”

  “And what has he been doing?” Malo asked.

  Tyler looked around in exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what he was doing! It doesn’t matter if he brought her cupcakes and wanted to wish her well on a trip. It’s about comfort. There’s a line where approaching people after they indicate they’re not interested is harassment!”

  “Tyler, sometimes it takes dozens of rejections to get someone to give you a shot,” Malo said. “That’s normal. Are you implying that we should make that illegal?”

  “Of course not! There’s a difference between friendly disinterest and obvious discomfort.”

  “So… are you implying we should make discomfort illegal?”

  “No! You know what I’m talking about.”

  “I don’t.” Malo looked at him with his empty blue eyes. “Honestly.”

  Tyler stared at him speechlessly. “What?”

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Malo continued, “what do litigators in your world do to people approaching people involuntarily, albeit with good intention and no criminal actions?”

  Nothing, Tyler thought. And that was the part that made him frustrated.

  “I’d assume they’d do nothing,” Malo guessed. “Because if you made approaching women a criminal offense, populations would collapse, the jails would be full, society would cave in, and you’d experience political revolts. You’ve been saying that the military is getting out of control. But what do you think would happen if you told these soldiers they weren’t welcome into their own city, and that they couldn’t find love there?”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  A crushing wave of gravity covered Tyler’s shoulders like a lead coat, and his lower neck beaded with cold sweat.

  “Tyler, you’re a leader now. And as a leader, you have more power, but you’re held to a higher standard. Because in your position, you can enact laws to deal with the things that personally aggrieved you, or punish people who aggrieve you without a law. In both cases, you are barrelling down the path toward nepotism—and that’s the exact thing that your sister wants to avoid.”

  Tyler’s shoulders slumped when he was publicly outed as the villain he was hunting for. He was also disheartened by the outcome.

  “Then… what?” Tyler whispered. “Because it’s not against the law, I should just let someone harass my partner until they snap and commit a crime?”

  “Of course not,” Malo said. “In personal problems regarding soldiers, you must solve them like a soldier—which is to say through fighting. So if you want to protect Sarah, you need to do it with your own strength.”

  Tyler laughed. “My strength? I’m unevolved, Malo. He’s at the second evolution!”

  “So? Your sister was killing third evolution beasts in her first evolution.”

  “I’m not my sister!”

  Malo snapped his eyes on him. “Yes, you are.” Then, he returned his gaze to his beer. “You’ve inhaled priceless treasures daily for years. You’ve gotten the best training. If you’re not willing to square up with your peers, the soldiers have a right to hate you.”

  Troops laughed and drank and sent snide sneers, the kind that express grim hilarity in a villain getting slapped down for their unreasonableness. Tyler hated that.

  “Even though he’s a soldier?” Tyler asked.

  “If you trained with the troops, you’d know that answer,” Malo said. “Is there anything else?”

  Tyler felt the worst thing he could do would be to try to vindicate himself, but he was still confused. So he pressed on with a whisper, “Yeah… You do think the military is… weird, right? That’s actually what I came to you about. I mean, I’m worried about Sarah, but that got me looking, and…” He nudged his head in a certain direction.

  Malo’s lifeless gaze sharpened, and he sent Tyler a sidelong glance. “That’s another question entirely.” He looked through the camp, studying Ikala beside his cookfire. “Once the thirds get their power back, it’s gonna be a problem.”

  Ikala was one of the fifty third-evolution soldiers who crossed the Second Domain to answer Mira’s call. While he was ambitious and had intentionally come here to pursue strength and freedom, knowing full well what he was getting himself into, most didn’t. Half didn’t even know that the curse shaved excess mana and aura off their cores. So while their cores retained their unique functionality of their evolution, absorption, amplification, expansion, and the like, the Domain shaved off their power. So while Kyro’s Mana core was capable of “gravitation,” the ability to attract mana to magical objects, a skill that granted them unlimited Mana, while also enabling them to turn humble floating ice spears into ballistic missiles, the curse was so extreme that it prevented him from absorbing mana at all. In the Fifth Ring, he was able to absorb mana, but the curse blocked key functionalities. By the Sixth Ring, he would be able to hold a mana core the size of a second evolution being, but he could use all the attributes without limitation. And finally, once he returned to the Seventh Ring, which allowed for Demigods, he would regain his full functionality. But even then, he wouldn’t “unlock” what he once had. He would need to rebuild his cores through incremental threading over years, decades, or even centuries. Such was the overwhelming disincentive to enter lower domains.

  Most of these soldiers didn’t realize that. They expected to be suppressed for two days and then enter a ring that would unlock their power. So they were obviously bitter when they learned that they had been reduced to a first evolution entity. The only consolation was that expensive cores were plentiful in Areswood, so they could build their power quickly. Unfortunately, they couldn’t even leave the campsite without dying, so they were building power off what Mira provided, and they were exceptionally bitter about the low supply.

  That’s why they were rowdy.

  That’s why people like Ikala gained traction to act as the voice for the collective discord. Both were inevitable. But that’s also why it was suspicious that no opposition leader had sparked up. It was suspicious that soldiers weren’t explicitly voicing their concerns or taking action. That indicated that there was shadow leadership—and that pointed to Ikala. How? No one seemed to know. Most things with him happened behind closed doors.

  It was sneaky. Hidden. Concerning.

  And it was a serious problem because Mira’s idealistic beliefs prevented her from making a soul pact that prevented them from mutinying against her or throwing a coup. Trigan and Ferna warned them about it. Now, six months later, the prospect threatened to become a real possibility.

  “Is it bad?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah,” Malo whispered. “It’s bad. But it’s a problem that’s hard to fix without making it worse, so keep your head down, evolve, and listen to your elders. Never forget: this is a military problem. It does not concern you. Do you understand?”

  Tyler nodded solemnly. “I understand. Thanks, Malo.” His mentor gave him a nod, and then Tyler left, branded with the shame of public chastisement, suffering the soldiers’ stares as they scoffed and spat at his feet.

  It sucked—but he deserved it. So instead of becoming bitter, he determined that he would learn and grow from it. As for Rickland Loklan, he wouldn’t let the man keep harassing Sarah. Mira was returning, and she would protect Sarah and help him evolve. Once he did, he’d fight the man publicly, rebuild his reputation, and become a leader.

  It sounded great and logical, but that was for the future—and the problems were occurring now.

  The more he thought about Malo’s confirmation about Ikala, the more worried he became for Sarah’s safety—in general. So after he returned home, made her soul steaks, and showed her his loving resolve in bed, his anxiety took root. He looked at his sleeping partner in fear and trepidation, and then accessed his guide, searching for short-term solutions. Yet no matter where he looked, he realized that had only one that he had practiced. It read:

  —----

  Reward: Poison Sense

  Grade: Diamond

  Description: Surviving Areswood Forest may feel frustratingly easy when compared to your sister’s achievements, but it’s a legendary goal hundreds of thousands have tried and failed to accomplish. For that reason, you and every other founding Wraith received a Poison Sense reward. It’s not the mythical highlighting Mira, Felio, and Aiden have, as you don’t have a forest-related class, but this is the spell she and Kline rely upon. Once you master it, you’ll have a huge head start on those bitter third evs, and the rambunctious seconds. So keep your chin up, love. You’re on your way.”

  —----

  That was his only advantage—he could flee into the forest. The winter was over, the blighted snow had almost melted, they could survive out there. So they could run. That was his trump card.

  How pathetic.

  Tyler’s mind looped after that, and he started worrying about the worst-case scenarios—riots, mutinies, and general desperation. Desperation was the most terrifying of all. It leads the best of people to make impulsive decisions—it makes the worst of people do evil things.

  Tyler needed to get out of his thoughts, so he left his home, locked the door, and checked it to make sure Sarah was relatively safe, and then went to Aiden’s house. Unfortunately, Aiden was busy. There was a woman inside, saying off comments that implied she was playing with his pets. It seemed innocent, but it still felt… strange.

  That’s new, he thought. Mira “dumped” Aiden’s ass three months ago when she unloaded raw power onto Kai like a crazy girlfriend claiming she had cancer, hoping pity or duty would keep them tied together. What she did was positive—but it had the same vibe, and good or not, it toasted her potential relationship with Aiden. Tyler thought that was for the best, but it still felt… off that Aiden, funny and charming as he was becoming, moved on from his sister a meager three months later. It almost felt like cheating.

  Tyler walked away, chuckling, wondering why he felt aggrieved, and then sighed once the novelty of Aiden moving on was replaced with his current situation.

  So he tried to push it out, thinking of Mira and her new interest—Kai.

  The moment Tyler thought of Kai, he remembered that he liked him. Kai always treated him like an adult, and he was cool, too. With that in mind, he went to his home, hoping he’d be up and willing to talk—unsuspecting of what he was walking into.