Charlemagne’s vision returned to normal as warmth flooded through his body. His Veins of Lava had channeled enormous amounts of heat during its futile struggle against the wave forty Boss’s Endless Blizzard attack. Now that he was back in a more temperate climate, waves of hot air roiled out from him, startling a few creatures that happened to be nearby. Before he could get himself into trouble with the Squiggles, which would certainly take a dim view of the rooster roasting other contestants, Charlemagne pulled the heat back into himself, using his Ember Core to transform most of the energy back into mana.

  Speaking of the Squiggles, they were waiting impatiently to deliver a number of messages. The rooster was more than happy to oblige.

  After taking some time to absorb the messages from the Squiggles, Charlemagne happily gave his consent to the merger. He felt tingly inside for a moment as the newly combined Skill suffused his body, affecting everything from the way he breathed to how he planted his feet on the ground. Muscles he had never consciously noticed either relaxed or tensed as needed. Even his posture straightened a bit as his bones clicked into place just so. The rooster felt in control of his body in a way that was almost overwhelming. Thankfully, the Skill did much of the heavy lifting, seeming to read his intentions and supporting from behind the scenes.

  The rooster noted the low number with distrust for a moment before realizing that it was actually a good sign. It meant that the Skill would quickly grow even more powerful. He took a step forward, noting how smoothly his body moved. There was no wasted movement, no excess energy produced or distributed. Each cell received exactly what it needed to do its job, and no more.

  As he examined his body, the rooster received another welcome surprise. His vest, the Prophet’s Vestments, was back in its rightful place. This relieved Charlemagne to no end, not just for the comfort it provided but also for its ability to aid in Skill growth. With a new spring in his step, he headed back to stand in line to try his luck against the waves again, blissfully ignorant of where his Party was and what they were doing.

  “On your left!” Ndiogou cried out as he ducked underneath a barnacle-encrusted cutlass. Sirius looked to her left just in time turn an attack from a rusty saber into a glancing blow. A thin line of blood welled up from the cut on her flank before quickly coagulating: the canine Champion’s high Durability and defensive skills making her difficult to exsanguinate. The Party, minus Charlemagne, had given up on finding the rooster and decided to practice fighting as a group. After clearing the first nine waves without much difficulty, they figured that the boss would be a cake walk. They were wrong.

  The first Boss was either an octopus or close enough to one that none of the Party could tell the difference. However, this was no ordinary cephalopod. It was wearing a pirate captain’s hat and wielding a variety of sharp implements in its eight tentacles. It could also shoot out clouds of ink that obscured its opponents’ eyesight. But perhaps the most unsettling thing about it was that the Boss could fly.

  “I can’t get close to it!” Sirius complained as the three allies regrouped in one of the corners of the enormous white simulation space, which was identical in appearance to but about four times larger than the individual simulation’s arena. “Phatagin, can you pin down its arms long enough for me to slip inside its reach?”

  “Well, that is conceivable, yes,” the lazy pangolin agreed as he floated between the canine and the human. “I believe I can immobilize one side of the beast, but I do believe I should warn you that the other arms will likely be able to reach you. This creature’s biology makes conventional combat difficult.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “If you can keep it from moving,” Ndiogou suggested, “then it will be a sitting duck for a spear throw. Why can’t I throw my spear?”

  “Because you’re useless without it!” growled the Red Fang. “Grow some natural weapons and we’ll let you disarm yourself as often as you’d like.”

  “But I’m useless with it too!” Ndiogou yelled.

  “The human does raise a good point,” Phatagin noted, scooting backward to avoid a tentative swipe from the Boss. “We lose nothing from the attempt: our opponent already possesses one weapon per appendage.”

  “Fine,” Sirius agreed. “But I’m going to be very upset if we all die.”

  “We’ll just try again,” Ndiogou said encouragingly.

  “I, for one, have no wish to be cut into pieces. Not once, not more than once,” the pangolin objected. “Let’s use all our resources to emerge victorious and then forfeit. Defeating the first Boss in a format meant for up to five Party members with only three individuals is likely a significant victory.”

  “All right, I’ve already agreed, windbag,” the canine huffed. “Just go.”

  Emptying every last shred of power from his Momentum Core, the pangolin strained against the Boss’s immense strength, pinning it in place for just a moment. Ndiogou, seeing that the enormous octopus could no longer properly dodge, readied himself to throw. His powerful arm cocked back into the proper position, before his whole body lunged forward and tensed, transferring power from his feet into his hips and finally up to his superhuman shoulder. The spear, which was not really suited to being thrown, nonetheless performed its job admirably. The Boss managed to get a tentacle up in time, putting the appendage between the incoming projectile and its enormous eye, which the human correctly identified as the enormous beast’s weakest point. But Phatagin’s efforts had not been in vain. The weapon that the cephalopod planned to use to deflect the spear off course arrived too late. Ndiogou’s weapon passed straight through the sucker-covered arm and into the Boss’s body, burying itself deep into vulnerable flesh.

  The Boss let out a ghastly shriek as a cloud of jet black ink filled the air.

  “I should get myself a couple of javelins, or perhaps some pilum,” Ndiogou mused as he backed away from what appeared to be the Boss’s death throws. “Throwing a spear is problematic for a number of reasons.”

  “Yes, the spear is not meant for throwing,” Phatagin agreed. “Perhaps you should look into some throwing axes, chakrams, or shuriken. You could acquire a poisoning Skill and throw poisoned shuriken just like a shinobi.”

  “I think you should go the stealth archery route,” Sirius suggested, easily moving out of the way of a half-hearted strike that came from high above. “You know, you’re a great tracker, got the Blind Hunter title, but what you really need is to be able to sneak up on something and kill it before it knows you’re there. Humans are just so…squishy.”

  “Hmm, that really could work,” Phatagin agreed. “Even if he continues to improve his ability to attack in melee, there is utility in using a bow to pick off weaker opponents or wound stronger ones before the battle is properly joined. What if Ndiogou focuses on a path that will enable him to make magic arrows and fire them while both using a stealth Skill and invisibility?”

  “Is invisibility even possible?” Sirius asked dubiously, slowly advancing through the rapidly fading ink cloud to check on the Boss’s condition. “Stealth Skills I get, but how could you turn invisible? Any anyways, it wouldn’t matter to me, I’d still smell him.”

  “All right, all right, maybe invisibility is unnecessary,” Phatagin admitted. “But you have to admit that we are on to something with the stealth archer approach.”

  “It does seem rather strong,” Sirius agreed.

  “Guys, I am literally right here,” Ndiogou broke in, unable to stay quiet any longer. “I am willing to discuss the pros and cons of different ranged weapons, but you don’t get to map out all my Skills for me like I’m an idiot. And humans are NOT squishy!”

  “Says the squishy human,” the canine mocked as she prodded the Boss with a paw, eliciting a faint but noticeable reaction. A moment later her fangs had torn a deep gash in the giant cephalopod, causing it to finally expire.

  The System notified them that they had completed the wave.

  “Why is it exactly five point five three four six minutes?” Sirius griped. “And yes, System, we want the break, but we also want to forfeit and exit the battle simulation.”

  There was no response from the System.

  “That’s odd,” Phatagin said after a long moment. “Although it is possible that you have confused it.”

  “What do you mean?” Sirius asked.

  “It means that you asked for the break first, and then asked to forfeit. I’ve found that the System is very literal. We’ll probably get booted out after the five minute break.”

  “Five point five three four six,” growled the canine. “Makes no sense at all.”

  “Sure it does,” Ndiogou argued. “Explain how long a minute is?”

  “It’s sixty seconds, every sentient knows that,” Sirius snapped back.

  “Ah, I think I see our comrade’s point,” Phatagin added, but uncharacteristically lapsed into silence without further comment.

  “I don’t!” the canine barked.

  “Well, how long is a second? Why did it get defined as such?”

  “I…I have no idea. Is it tied to something natural?” Sirius asked.

  The human smiled.

  “I looked it up once. I don’t remember it word for word, but its official definition is something like so many cycles of something involving a cesium atom. It’s not even a round number of that either, so humans just made up the length of a second. It’s meaningless. And let’s say that it was something natural: like the length of a day. That’s one rotation of the Earth, right? But that only works on Earth, one day on Mars is very different. And now imagine that we’re dealing with different universes that might have their own laws of nature that don’t exactly mesh with ours. It’s too crazy to think about.”

  “I believe you have summed it up quite well,” the pangolin said after a moment. “It is too crazy to think about.”

  “So the reason the number of minutes for the break appears to be random is because it’s being measured by someone else’s time scale rather than our own. Does that mean that the System came from a universe that is different than ours? Was it created do you think, or did it evolve naturally?”

  “That’s a good question,” Ndiogou responded after a moment. “That’s a really good question. The implications are mind-boggling, and I don’t particularly want my mind to be boggled any more right now. Maybe I’ll sleep on that one.”

  “A nap would be delightful,” the pangolin agreed.

  “Well, in about five minutes we’re going to find out if the System will let us quit like it said we could, or if we need to try again once wave eleven starts. But yes, I vote we get a good rest after this and then figure out a way to corral our fearless leader. I bet he’ll be proud of us for beating a Boss wave,” Ndiogou said.

  “Five point five three four six,” Sirius corrected. “Five point five three four six.”