I arrive just as Ellison and Jared are wrapping up their conversation.
“Ellison, I have to admit,” Jared says, extending a hand, “I had my reservations about this. But after our talk, I can truly say I look forward to building a future with your people.”
Ellison hesitates for a mont before clasping Jared’s hand in a firm shake. “I will have to grow accustod to this. Thank you for teaching .” He gives a small nod. “And yes—I, too, look forward to working together.”
With that, we turn and make our way back toward the portal.
Jared doesn’t waste any ti filling in. “So, there are 112 Guildians here so far, and according to Ellison, more can still co through unless we set a limit.”
I try to focus, but my steps feel heavy, the mory of the young Guildian weighing down. What was it he said? 112?
That is more than I expect.
Jared continues, his tone thoughtful. “Here’s sothing else—you probably already noticed, but every single one of them is a combat class.”
I raise a brow. The news draws out of my moping. “Every single one?”
“Every last one,” Jared confirms. “Turns out, on Ulm, the powerful Guildians strip non-combatants from the general population. The ones who remain?” He scoffs and shakes his head.
“They spend all their ti working, this keeps them from progressing and becoming a threat to a faction they call the Devorites.”
My jaw clenches. I don’t like hearing about the horrible conditions. It forces to wonder about the other raiders I faced and massacred. Had it been the sa for them? I shake my head trying to clear the thoughts.
Jared goes on. “That said, there is a way to change classes—but it’s insanely expensive. Ellison says most of them never even considered it an option. Not when they could barely afford to eat.”
I exhale sharply. I thought I had it rough at the start, but at least I had a choice. I pretty much bungled that choice but at least I had it.
“We won’t force anyone into a role,” Jared adds. “If they earn enough to change classes, they can—but for now, we’re treating them as part of our faction’s fighting force.”
That makes sense. “And in the short term?”
“We’re bringing in our crafters to build them proper shelters. In return, they’ll help us expand our territory. With their numbers, we can locate the dungeons faster, complete them, and handle the upcoming raids.”
Now that got my attention. Was I ready to face more dungeons? I was still processing my feelings from earlier.
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For now? My decision was made. I was still uncovering my moral compass–that would happen over ti. Until then?
Dungeons. Raids. Growth.
My fingers instinctively twitched at the thought.
“I figured you’d like that,” Jared says with a smirk. “I know you’ve been getting restless.”
I didn’t deny it. Things had been going well—too well. No real threats, no real challenges. But that was about to change.
-
The next day, the Guildians are already proving their worth—they locate all three dungeons in the neighboring territory to theirs. So much for the weeks it took Mischief and the first ti.
Jared, our fighting team, and I don’t waste any ti and teleport over to plan our approach.
We find Ellison and a group of five other Guildians waiting near the old abandoned fort. The other Guildians were likely out scouting. They were tireless.
I close the distance with a smile. “Ellison, you guys are insane. It took and Mischief forever to find our first dungeons, and you found all three in a day?!”
Ellison gives a small smile. “Numbers help. Dungeons also tend to appear in places of interest. We can teach you how to spot the signs.” His expression turns serious. “Shall I explain what we found?”
Jared nods.
“The first dungeon is in a grove nearby. It’s level 10. The second is in a clearing to the north—level 15.” He pauses with a grimace. “The third… is where things get complicated.”
“How complicated?”
Ellison scratches the base of his antlers. “It’s evolved beyond the others. We found it in a mana-dense adow—it radiates sothing… unnatural. Level 24.”
I feel my pulse spike. Level 24? Why would this dungeon be so much higher than the others?
Jared frowns. “Ellison, do we have the firepower to clear that dungeon with zero losses?”
“No.” Ellison’s tone is absolute. “Not as we are now. And I strongly advise against attempting it before leveling up.”
I shrug. “Yeah, no. Mischief and I are doing it now.”
Both Jared and Ellison stiffen.
“Layton, that’s reckless—”
I cut him off. “Look, I get the concern, but I’m doing it. Mark it on the map or send a guide.”
Ellison’s eyes darkened. “You don’t understand. Even if you sohow survive, completing it will escalate our future raid difficulty.”
That gives pause. But it’s not enough to change my mind.
“Escalate how?” Jared asked.
Ellison’s expression was grim. “The system balances difficulty based on your strongest combatants. If we clear a level 24 dungeon, our raids will scale to match. I don’t think we’re ready.”
I consider that. He has a point. But…My mind is already made up.
“Ellison, look around you.” I gesture at the group. “You think this world isn’t getting harder? That if we wait, things will stay at our level? This dungeon exists because the world is evolving. If we don’t push forward, we will get left behind. And you of all people should understand why that’s not an option.”
Ellison’s expression hardens, but he stays silent.
I continue. “I get that this raises the stakes, and I respect your caution. So, let’s make a deal.”
I see his ears twitch slightly. He was listening.
“If Mischief and I clear this dungeon, I’ll personally pay for five of your people to switch to non-combat classes.”
Now I have his attention.
Ellison studies carefully. “And if you fail?”
“Then Jared will distribute all my wealth however you see fit. You can build, expand, protect—whatever it takes.”
Jared frowns. “Layton, you’re gambling with your life—”
“My life is what makes us strong.” I et his gaze. “And strength is what keeps us alive. This is happening, so let’s stop wasting ti.”
A flashback of the dead Guildian boy enters in my mind unbidden.
Ellison scratches his antlers slowly. “…Fine.”
We shake on it.
A few minutes later, Mischief and I arrive at the dungeon portal.
I turn to him. “What do you think, buddy? Are we crazy?”
Mischief flicks his tail and gives a look. The kind that says, Yes. Obviously.
I laugh. “Okay, maybe a little.” I stare at the portal, then crack my neck. “Alright. No more waiting.”
Mischief bares his teeth in sothing almost like a grin.
We step through the portal.
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