[Scout Level 2!]

[Skill - Basic Fire Craft obtained!]

[Skill - Surge obtained!]

Ryan woke up feeling like shit, but a level up was always nice. Well, usually nice. This time wasn’t an exception. He still felt like he was being kicked while he was down. He was so bad at making a fire, he needed a guidance Skill to help him along? Nice.

He groaned as he shifted upright into a stretch and winced at all the little pains that came from a night sleeping in a cave. His bruised leg especially. He couldn’t check, but he was pretty sure it had gotten worse. Without Micah’s salve to put on, he would have to suck it up.

Micah looked over from the moss wall and greeted him with a tired smile. An ambush by a mixed group of rats had punctured half a dozen holes in it during the night, so they could sit against the wall to keep watch. A kernel of good in it all.

“Good morning.”

Good was relative, but it was morning. It was almost light out. What time was it, then? The chasm caught light earlier from the East, but the angle still played a part. Around nine, then? Ten?

Ryan wished he owned a watch or gotten [Internal Clock]. It would make things so much easier. “Morning,” he greeted back. It was his first morning in the Tower. He didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Excited?

“And?” Micah asked.

He hesitated, but he’d known his fire affinity would change things so he admitted, “Level two. I got [Basic Fire Craft] and [Surge].”

“[Surge]?” Micah asked. “Oh, that’s the temporary physical boost thingie, right? Congrats!” He smiled, but paused and asked, “Wait, [Basic Fire Craft]?”

“Uh, yeah?”

Ryan could practically see the cogs turning in his head before he blurted out, “Hey, if you’re a [Fighter] who learns fire spells, you could become a Fire-[Figher]! Fire— Get it? [Firefighter]?”

He took a deep breath and groaned his lungs out, wishing he could go back to sleep, pretend he had never heard that. “Remember how you wanted me to tell you when you do something awkward?”

“Yeah?”

“Puns. Definitely puns. Especially first thing in the morning.”

He hung his head a little. “Yeah. I kind of knew before I’d even said it.”

“Everything quiet?” Ryan asked to switch topics. He turned away as he got up and stretched with a few good yawns. Sleeping in one to two-hour shifts didn’t much good for rest either, especially with those bats’ cries, false, and one real alarm waking him up every other time he closed his eyes.

“A toad settled in the room outside,” Micah said in a conversational tone, “and some rats ran through a while ago but didn’t stay. I think they could sense the toad, somehow. Not sure how.”

“A toad?” Ryan turned around, awake.

“Yeah, it slowly crawled in from the ceiling, still concealed. And I mean slowly. Like, sluggish. Now it’s waiting in a corner near the opening. You can see it if you press up against the moss.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

He shrugged. “It happened a bit ago and it was getting brighter. It didn’t attack, so I thought I’d let you sleep in.”

“But if something had attacked us, we would have had to worry about the toad ambushing us from the corner.”

“Yeah, but—” Micah said and froze. “I actually didn’t think of that. Sorry.”

He rubbed his eye a little, clearly tired himself, so Ryan asked, “Do you want to take care of it and then get another hour or two of sleep? It’d be better if you got the rest before we head out.”

“Not much rest to be had, here,” he said. “It’s still cold. Morning chill, I guess.”

Ryan could notice the cold himself, but he didn’t mind unless it was windy. “I could restart the fire, afterward,” he offered, “put my new Skills to use.”

Micah considered and nodded. “Please?” He pressed his ear to the moss to get a good look at the corner.

Ryan mimicked him near the left exit of their little hideout. A moment later, a lime green shape showed up like a figure slipping on a shirt and blinked. “Got it,” he told him before he dashed out.

The moment the toad shot its tongue at him, Ryan thought, [Strike Down], and bashed the flesh aside. Then, to try it out, he mumbled under his breath, “[Surge].”

He knew about the Skill, vaguely. Gardener had once compared it to [Adrenaline Rush] and [Second Wind] for him, though there were others. It was supposed to simultaneously be the most agile and most rigid of the three, and now he knew why.

From a standstill, it felt like he had crossed the finish line on a hundred meter sprint, like he needed a few steps to get rid of his momentum. His body shouted at him to move forward, and he did.

The first step was involuntary. Two more built up momentum. He had to make a decision. On a whim, Ryan tossed his spear up into an overhand grip and added a fourth to reach back and sink it in the toad a few meters off.

The blade held fast and almost stuck straight out of the flesh. Ryan drew his knife from his shield, ready to finish it off once the amphibian fell, but, that didn’t happen. He needed another step to come to a halt and frowned. It was stuck there. He had pinned it through the thin of its elbow to the wall.

Temporary agility and strength boost. He was definitely feeling the latter. What did he do now? He felt restless and almost wanted to scale up that corner to finish the job, to get this over with so he could move on to the next thing.

Restlessness, he remembered. One of the side effects. And that involuntary first step. He had to be mindful when using the Skill. Not being able to retreat for a single moment could be fatal.

He paced around while he waited for the toad burst into smoke. His spear had impaled it to the hilt. It should happen sooner rather than later. Ryan could catch it afterward then.

But the beast cried out as it tried to wiggle free and of course, that brought the pests. Rats. Innumerable tiny rodents squeaking in the distance and the walls. By the louder splashes in the distance, at least one of the larger kind had decided to follow.

“Packs and one big one,” he told Micah when the other guy stepped out. “They’ll be here right about … now.”

They poured out of cracks and around the edge of the tunnel, soaked from the water and matted with dirt, and ran to surge up their legs. Ryan stomped, stepping back to give himself some room, and kicked a few more. He wanted his spear, but it wouldn’t have done much good here.

Micah had an easier time batting them aside with wide swipes that took two or three in one go.

When the larger rat entered the room, Ryan saw an opportunity to do something useful and jumped on it. He charged through the river of fur and blocked the beast’s lunge with a kick to the throat.

It twisted around his leg and still tried to sink its teeth into him, so Ryan batted its head aside with his shield. Stunned, he lifted it up to reveal its chest and stabbed it in the area where its heart should have been. Instead of light, blood oozed out. Another fully-formed. The larger rats tended to be.

It struggled for a moment, but it was effectively done for. Ryan pushed the rat away and went back to taking care of the little ones that were swarming them. The bat was still a little unwieldy in Micah’s hands, especially with the rats swarming him, his downward swipes, and exhaustion. Ryan was going to suggest switching when the guy stumbled and a heavy swipe went wild.

The wood struck the wall and left a smooth dent there, and Micah froze despite the rats crawling all over him. With wide eyes, he mumbled, “Woah.”

Ryan put his knife away and tackled him to swipe all the rodents off his legs. “Dammit, Micah.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

They stomped and a chased a handful that fled before catching their breath, stomachs rumbling. It was like their bodies were warning them that they would go on strike if they kept this up without payment.

Ryan glanced at the wall Micah had hit in confusion. It was dented like dough or soft clay, stone smooth and mass spilling out over the edges. Definitely not just stone skin, then. There were weapons that could do things like that, treat stone like clay. Wasn’t that stone shaping? How did the skin factor in? Separately? The added weight was a third effect. Four, if he counted the increased durability.

He gave the bat in Micah’s hands an appreciative look and said, “That’s a damn good weapon.”

“‘Damn good’?” Micah asked with a smile.

Ryan made a face. It was the type of thing Gardener said. “I mean, three effects in one weapon? Or two to four, depending how you split them. It’s valuable.”

Micah nodded looked down. “Kind of makes me want to sell it. We could split it two ways. Or three, even, I guess. But there’s more value in keeping it, right? You don’t find weapons like these every day”

“No. You don’t. Or rather, we don’t. But on the sixth floor?”

Higher risk, higher reward. Ryan hoped he would have a full set of equipment like that one day. Micah too, of course. And Lisa … Lisa was probably going to weave herself a chain mail armor out of mana rings or something. She wouldn’t have been the first to try.

He noticed the dead rat and his blood-spattered glove and got to cleaning up. They collected the few marbles and crystals, shifted the dead rat away, and he cut out its crystal after a few wrong guesses.

The toad had burst sometime during the fight, too, and his spear lay forgotten on the floor. Ryan kicked himself for that before he slipped into the treasure room, where Micah was topping off his water bottles with his spell. He handed the guy his one glove and bloody crystal to go clean them elsewhere. Until then, Ryan got to stacking tinder and kindling and work on a fire.

Now. How was he supposed to do this?

His [Basic Fire Craft] was giving him a few hints, and he was mildly surprised that it worked with spells at all. More importantly, he was a little freaked out by the thoughts in his head that weren’t his own. He guessed that was normal. Most people had a guidance Skill or two.

He also knew a little from the manual Micah had bought. There were a few different ways to create fire, some more simple than others.

Ryan focused on his ungloved hand and built a layer of mana in his thumb, like pushing mana into an item but barely keeping it from leaving. He drew from the well of his [Lesser Fire Affinity], though it surrounded him more like a shell rather than a well. This was almost pre-tainted mana. Almost enough to create a fire on its own if he just pushed it out his body.

With his thumb filled to the brim, he pushed a little bit out and snapped to give it friction.

Nothing happened. He frowned. He was pretty sure he had read about this working. What was he missing? He had fire mana and something— Oh, the snap would create physical friction, but not friction mana could work with.

Okay, Ryan knew the solution. He topped the fire mana in his thumb off and focused. Friction. He needed something like the side of a matchbox. With his thumb almost “full,” he focused on keeping what was there there, then devoted the rest of his attention to pushing mana into his middle finger. Pure mana, instead of fire this time. A second material to work with.

It was hard to do, but he didn’t have to hold it for long. Ryan pushed mana out, snapped his fingers, and created a spark. A plume of tiny red motes shot up and dissipated in the air. He stared.

“First try?” Micah asked, standing halfway in the room.

“Second, actually …”

“Oh, cool.”

It was. He had just … created fire. Just like that. But how was he supposed to use that? Did he hold a bushel of tinder near the spell when he cast it and hope of catching a spark?

He bet he could, but Ryan wouldn’t be satisfied with that. For one thing, it would be embarrassingly weak. He wouldn’t even be able to light a cigar or candle, like other people did. And besides, he had told Micah he would be responsible. His fire spells needed to be more refined. Controlled.

How could he create something closer to a match or lighter flame? Something closer to [Candle]?

Ryan thought it over. He went with pushing fire mana into the air half a second beforehand and then snapped to create a spark. The sparked flared higher this time, almost into a proper flame, and he yanked his hand away in reflex. The flame had burst right over his hand. He shook it a little to get rid of the heat, noticed Micah staring on the other side of the pit, and panicked.

“Shit,” Ryan said a little too loudly and put on an easy look of embarrassment. “You, uh, remember our deal?”

“Huh?” Micah asked, still looking half panicked himself before he lunged for the opportunity. “Oh, yeah. Don’t burn yourself on your own fire spell, Ryan. That would be awkward.”

“Ha-ha. I won’t.”

That had almost been better. Ryan couldn’t pull away. He tried again a fourth time and this time, he kept on pushing fire mana out to fuel the flame. It flared again, smaller, and condensed into a single point like a match or lighter that burned the mana right as it left his body.

Ryan would have cheered, but he was busy focusing on not letting the spell die. And he had to focus on pushing it out quickly enough, or the flame would catch up to his skin. As it was, it burned about a centimeter over his thumb.

“Wow,” Micah said and looked a little … almost melancholic. “It looks almost like [Candle].”

“It does?” His concentration slipped and Ryan dropped the flame with a quick shake of his thumb.

“Oh, sorry,” Micah said. “But yeah. Almost.”

Then he was on the right track? He tried again, but flunked on using the different types of mana. His sixth try worked and he had a tiny fire hovering over his thumb. Now, he could hold tinder to it and start a fire. But …

It still wasn’t very effective. It wasn’t something he could use as a weapon and his thumb didn’t have the reach of his other fingers. Micah was still huddling up a little against the morning chill, so Ryan got a fire started to warm him before he went back to practicing.

Trying to control mana in three different fingers at once was too difficult without practice, but he managed to switch the flame over to his index finger by pushing fire mana out after he had started the flame and passing the torch.

His best attempt was to create pseudo-match stick for extra range on the flame was switching to pure mana halfway through and “pushing” it away. It would even taint the pure mana a little and burn, but not for long. Ryan had no way of resupplying it with fire mana afterward, so it burned out quicker than a match would.

He started experimenting with “condensing” fire mana into a ball like match head, in the hopes of creating a longer flame, when he noticed Micah was watching him with all the fascination of a child watching a flame, but none of the eagerness to join in and play with fire.

Micah noticed him staring and said, “You picked that up pretty quickly.”

“I, uh—” Ryan frowned, unsure of what he was supposed to say. What was on Micah’s mind? “I do have an affinity spell and a guidance Skill. So, you know, I have an unfair advantage?”

Micah frowned. “They work together?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Ryan thought about it for another moment and went with levity and a smile. “Why? Are you feeling jealous?”

Micah scoffed. “No.”

“Sure.”

“More like envious …” he mumbled.

That caught Ryan by surprise. “Really? About—”

“Not the fire, just the spell affinity,” the other guy clarified. “Though, yeah. I do wish I had [Candle] back. It could come in handy.” He shifted a little where he sat, rubbing his shoulders to keep warm.

Ryan saw that but didn’t say anything. “Well, I mean, I still don’t want to show any of this to Lisa. She’ll probably point out two dozen things I’m doing wrong in a second, and half of them will have been obvious.”

Micah smiled at that, but it turned into a scowl. “Or she might not, and wait for you to figure it out on your own. But she once said my spellcrafting looked like a toddler in a pottery lesson.”

Ryan imagined that, his “match” looking like a deformed twig. It was a sobering thought.

His stomach growled again and Micah looked a little worse for wear himself, though he didn’t seem to care. They still had the fruit from the treasure chest, but Ryan didn’t really trust the dead slime. And it wasn’t like fruit was all that satisfying anyway. He wished he could eat one of the school’s pizza breads right about now.

He glanced down at the fire and had a thought.

He was distracting Micah anyway with his fire spells, so Ryan ducked out of the hideout and looked over to the dead rat he had dragged to the side of the right entrance, out of the way.

He had seen Lisa and Micah do this half a dozen times and done it a few times with normal animals himself during the scouting trip. How hard could it be? Ryan sat down and checked left and right to make sure the coast was clear before he got out his knife and grabbed the rat by the pelt. He started skinning it and held his breath to avoid the smell of blood.

When he ducked back in, he had a few slices of meat with him and found Micah warming his hands by the fire.

Ryan didn’t say anything. He stared for a moment. It wasn’t something he had ever thought he would see, especially after their fight yesterday. Why was...?

He’s so stubborn.

He almost smiled in annoyance. The more somebody pushed Micah to do something he didn’t want to do, the more stubbornly he would refuse. But maybe, … maybe it was good that he pushed. Someone had to.

Either way, Ryan wanted to burn it into his memory. He might be able to add it to a painting, someday. Sit Micah a little closer to the fire with everyone else … or maybe not everyone.

He stepped inside. “I brought food. For breakfast?”

Micah looked up hungrily, but it switched to confusion, then betrayal when he saw what Ryan meant. They were a little squeamish about eating skewered rat meat, but fireside-roasted and unspiced, it was too bland to make an opinion on anyway.

Micah got the net with the fruit out and cut a slice into the goo, then grabbed both sides to squeeze the fruit out. They washed the fruit first a little, just to be sure. The “shell” went into a jar.

“So it’s like a preservation sleeve?” Ryan asked, chewing with half a mouthful of apple and meat. The fruits were good. They seemed perfectly ripe.

“Yeah.” Micah smiled, animated by the breakfast. “Not sure how long they last, though. Longer than the fruit, obviously, but beyond that? I really wish I could experiment with them.”

“So do it,” Ryan said. “We still have a little time before we have to head out. And … it’d be cool if you could figure out how to make some kind of healing potion beforehand? Even low-grade would be nice.”

Micah noddd, but didn’t look sure. Ryan had guessed as much.

He tried cutting a goo shell himself and dragged the knife all the way around to pluck off the two hemispheres when the squeezing didn’t work. A tangerine. Ryan was too lazy to peel it right now so he offered it to Micah instead, who was peering into his basket of plants.

“What’s that?”

“A tangerine.”

A frown. “Is it good?”

“Have you … never had a tangerine before?” Ryan asked. They offered them in the cafeteria. It had been three weeks and he still wasn’t eating normal city food?

“Nope.” He took the orange ball and inspected it, then noticed the smell. “Smells good.”

“Tastes good, too. You need to peel it first. Here, let me show you.” Ryan took it back and made an indent to peel away the skin in large patches. He stacked them near the fire and enjoyed the smell himself.

They both smelled like sweat, dried mud, and smoke. And not the good kind of sweat. The smoke was the best of the three options, which said a lot. He offed Micah a slice and took one for himself. “It’s like orange.”

The guy shrugged, but took it. “Never had orange either.” He ate it and chewed with a thoughtful look, but didn’t grimace. “Hairy.”

“You can peel off the veins if you prefer. It makes for a nice pastime when reading or studying, too.”

He drank some water to wash it down and Micah made a noise like he had remembered something. He leaned over to snatch Ryan’s bag and brought the clay jug out, sealed and stopped.

“I was thinking this might be a beverage?” Micah said, showing it. “Because you usually find potions in bottles, we learned in class. So this could be something else. It could even be hot soup.”

Ryan smiled at Micah offering the information for once. “But do you want to open it? We could sell it if we keep it sealed.”

“Yeah, but if it’s a beverage it won’t sell for much, right? Like, who wants to buy day-old hot soup from the Tower?”

Ryan was guessing Micah was in the mood for soup, right now. “Unless it’s an expensive beer or wine.”

His eyes narrowed at that.

“In which case, we aren’t drinking it,” Ryan added.

“Aw. But can’t we at least check? Even if it means we might not be able to sell it so well?”

“Micah …” Ryan started and chose his words carefully. “We need—”

“Money,” Micah cut him off. “But I was actually thinking about that. There’s something else we can sell.” His eyes wandered over to the baseball bat. “And I’m not thinking of selling it.”

Huh? Ryan needed a moment to catch on, but then he remembered the dent outside. Oh. Oh.

That was a convincing argument. So in case it was hot soup, he gave the okay on the jug.

Micah perked up and cut open the seal, then forced out the cork. They poured a little bit of the contents into a jar and found a greenish brown, almost see-through liquid. Not hot soup. Ryan smelled and said, “It’s green tea.”

“Aw, what? Are you sure?”

“From the smell alone, yeah. Can you see anything?”

Micah inspected it from all angles and shook his head.

“Then it’s probably good to drink.”

He took the first sip, just in case, and immediately handed it over to Micah. The guy drank the rest and his face settled into a frown. His back straightened a little and his eyelids didn’t look quite as tired as before.

Even his voice was more awake when he asked, “What is that?”

“Stamina potion,” Ryan said with a smile. “Or at least, a weaker version of it. I recognize the feeling of it.”

“Wow.”

Micah went to pour another sip and Ryan warned him, “Don’t waste it.”

It was definitely something they could have sold if they had kept the bottle sealed, but Ryan didn’t feel bad. He ate the rest of his breakfast while Micah inspected his plants and used the fruit peels to make some perfume-ish water to wash up with. Then they packed their things and grabbed the baseball bat.

It was time to earn some money.