Nero feared his father would just turn the Squiig gadgeteer into beast-folk pulp. He'd seen the big man clench his fists like that several times, and in one of them, they had to replace a wall.

"Mr. Byron, I am sure there's some explanation," Glom tittered as he pulled his monocle back in place, the damn eyepiece sliding off. "I did the checks, the Arbitrium is working as intended."

"Are you saying it is my son's fault?" He roared.

"No need to get angry, sir," The diminutive scientist replied. "All the new adventurers are level zero, their first delve is tomorrow. I'd suggest to let him do his first delve, then we can convey at my workshop after dusk where I'll make a more detailed analysis."

Every new adventurer would earn their first level and their fist Attribute Point after they killed a few monsters in the Dungeon. From then on, they'd have to use essences to level up, the amount of essence energy required increasing exponentially as they leveled. To make matters more complicated, the energy of the Essence crystal every monster dropped increased linearly with Level, then multiplied by a factor involving the Level of the adventurer as compared to the Level of the monster.

And as the straw that broke the camel's back, several adventurers would find stagnation at some point well before their level cap, hitting a sweet spot where the monsters they can hunt with low risk are profitable enough to guarantee a livelihood but not strong enough to allow them to advance in a reasonable timeframe. It all depended on their life choices like the Class and Skills they picked along the way.

These choices were permanent. One had only so many slots for Class and Skills and once those were filled, they would stay for good.

It happened to Nero's father of all people. He was way over Level 150 with a Class belonging to the fourth tier and nothing below level 120 would allow him to advance. He'd need to hunt tens of thousands of monsters at that level. And now that he had a family to provide for, he couldn't risk going after stronger monsters. His parents retired and were living off of a nest egg built over three decades.

While the adults argued, Nero looked at a chart drawn on a banner hung next to the dais with information for the novices. He knew all that by heart, but it didn't hurt to refresh his mind.

Levels, Tier, Rank, Grades. These were the four main concepts that governed an Adventurer's life.

Levels were straightforward. Every creature that could manipulate Essence, a mysterious force found in crystals monsters left behind upon their deaths, had a level. Nero now had one, apparently stuck at zero.

Tiers referred to the several Classes a person would acquire along the way. The first tier was called "novice" and allowed them to have a base Class. Then at every fiftieth level, one would reach the "next tier" and gain the ability to get an advanced class. This pattern would repeat until one hit their level cap. Nero's parents would never reach the fifth-tier.

Ranks were how they classified the Dungeon. Every rank was equivalent to roughly five levels. The Dungeon next to the village of Hom was called "The Goblin's Den" and was rank-I. it meant the monsters inside were on the range of one through five, with some outliers a bit higher. Adventurers that entered Dungeons above their own level divided by five usually didn't come back.

Finally, there were grades. Grades referred to the quality and rarity of equipment and cards. Higher grades would grant more powerful effects but were also harder to come by. The lowest grade was gray, then white, green, blue, yellow, purple, and finally the very desirable orange. In some other places, they called these grades trash, common, uncommon, rare, ultra-rare, epic, and legendary, but around where Nero lived they just used the colors.

"The day after tomorrow," Byron huffed, pushing the meeting to the next morning. "We will be at your workshop at the cry of the rooster, Glom."

"Agreed. Young Nero, take care during your delve."

"Let's go, Byron," Rhynne urged her husband with a tone that allowed no room for negotiation and then turned to address the distressed Squiig. "Master Glom, we thank you for your time."

Her diplomatic smile was even scarier. Nero's mom hid her feelings under an ever-encompassing mask of cold politeness. The [Master Elementalist] wasn't one to be trifled with. Although she had a lower cap, they were at the same level.

"By your leave, ma'am," The gadgeteer bowed and everyone went on their way.

Nero felt like he was stalking a dragon. He had equal wants to check his Arbitrium and just rip the damn piece off of his arm. It was impossible though. The device on his forearm was bound for life. Beyond that, even. As they made to leave the village square, his chest sunk another measure. Someone was waiting for him, leaning against a house in the shade.

"Hi, Altia!" He tried to grin but knew his face was a grimace. He froze as he missed a step and had to balance himself.

"Nero, hi. Mrs. Rhynne, Mr. Byron."

"Good day to you too, Altia," Rhynne replied.

Byron grunted and kept walking.

"Do you want to trade cards, Nero? I just got my deck," She tapped a rectangular pouch on her belt.

"Here, kid," The burly man tossed Nero a pouch. "Knock yourself out. You have the day off. Come, Rhyn."

The two adults went off, leaving a very embarrassed Nero with his concerned and curious friend. He clutched the leather pouch with the starter deck his father assembled for him. All the warm, fuzzy feelings of this morning disappeared. He stood there, silently brooding until the girl broke the silence.

"Nero, something is wrong," She stated. "Talk to me."

Altia was a down-to-earth person. As Nero kept his mouth shut, she reached out and touched the back of his hand. Nero kept focusing on his breathing.

"Come, let's trade cards," He deadpanned. It was the best he could do to avoid breaking down.

"Yes, let's. The tavern is empty this hour, let's grab ourselves a private room."

Without waiting for an answer, she took his elbow and pushed him toward the tavern. Soon they were in a private room at the village's only tavern's mezzanine. Altia took her deck of cards from her belt along with a handkerchief that she spread over the wooden table to protect the cards. She placed them, face down.

"What did you get, Nero? C'mon, show me!" She tried to cheer him up.

Nero sighed. Should he talk to Altia? He couldn't even look in her eyes and he was avoiding looking at her entirely for fear of getting caught staring at her breasts. He released the pouch on the table and rummaged in his pants pockets until he found his own handkerchief.

"Okay. Let's see what I have."

He unceremoniously dumped the cards on the table. They fell face-up, then he separated them by type. Equipment cards had a blue background. He had five [Buckler] cards, ten [Sword], fifteen [Healing Potion], three [Dagger]. All of these were gray, the lowest quality out of seven possible. He also had two white [Greatsword], quite a find for a kid his age and level.

"Too bad the white card is level one," Altia pointed out. "You'll have to wait."

Nero winced and swallowed dry. If she only knew... He dropped the card and instinctively covered the display on his Arbitrium. Altia's eyes followed his hand.

"I noticed Glom never called your level cap out loud," She broached the subject, carefully studying his reaction. "It is okay if you don't want to share. Are you going to be drafted into the Knights?"

It was almost mandatory that everyone with a level cap over 200 was drafted into the Knight order serving the King. They would have access to the best Dungeons and cards from the Order's quartermasters. The pay and honor was a dream of any village kid, really. Fully ordained Knights were considered lower Nobility.

"...ero," Nero mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Different from most beast-kin, the fur-less, tail-less ape-kins of their tribe didn't have any sense more enhanced than the average of the other races. Altia leaned and tilted her head.

"What did you say? Do you want to be a [Hero]?"

She reached across the table and touched his arm. His gaze followed up from the hand until it met her brown irises. With a sigh, Nero confessed.

"Not a [Hero], Altia. My level cap is zero."

He extended his arm and lit the display with the dial, feeling the different settings. One could show your status only to himself by using the dimmest setting as the glass display would become blank to anyone not staring straight at the glass, or brighten it up for everyone to see. Altia stared at the display, noticing the multitude of zeroes in the display.

They were interrupted by the barmaid, that entered without knocking with two mugs of light ale. Nero quickly shut off his device, muting the glyphs. The barmaid sighed, disappointed as she saw the cards sprawled on the table and the two youngsters sitting across the table. She unceremoniously dumped the mugs and left, slamming the door. Altia chuckled, then steeled herself to press with the subject.

"What did Glom say?"

"I'm to Delve tomorrow normally. See if my level will increase as it should with my first kill. Then show up at his workshop for some detailed analysis."

"Nothing to worry about. I mean, these devices are crafted with care but they can malfunction. Some kind of gear, coil, or thingamajig inside is not aligned," She waved a hand dismissively. "Cards! Cards! I see a pink one there! Let me see!"

She plucked the pink card from the mess his deck was. [Permanency I]. Items summoned inside a Dungeon would last only for that particular Delve, disappearing upon exit. Outside, just a couple hours. But equipment could be enchanted with modifier cards, the pink ones. Permanency was modified that did what was on the label. The numeral meant the range of item levels it could affect. The one in her hand could make permanent any item up to level 5.

"Save this one for a blue or better," She smiled then placed the card aside, starting a new pile.

Nero arranged his equipment cars on their own pile and browsed the rest of the deck. He also had some pink modifier cards at the bottom, all gray and 0-level. Three [Enchant +1], that would increase the power for one of his weapons and armor, and also two [Extra Damage].

"The [Greatsword] with these two weapon modifiers," Nero pointed out, laying the modifier cards under the weapon so only the titles showed above it, "Almost make it worth to use the [Permanency I]."

"Almost. But the latter is the most valuable card in your whole deck. You should hold onto it for a while to see if something nice will drop. A [Greatsword] with only two mods would be a green quality item. Not worth it. Aren't you going to show me the Class cards?"

With a yellow background and never of gray quality, the Class cards were three. [Warrior], [Mage], and [Rogue]. All of them requiring level 5 to activate. The catch was, a Class card couldn't be removed once inserted. The choice of a Class was binding.

Altia chuckled as they looked at the Class cards. "Your father... He got a green Warrior card for you."

She pointed at the card. The others had a white border, but the Warrior card was all green. Distracted as Nero was, he failed to notice. "It gives five Attribute points more than a standard one," He noticed after doing some calculations. A normal Class gave 10 Attribute points. "But you are right. That's something my father would do. Mom will be angry at him for that."

His parents had a friendly tug-of-war going on regarding the path Nero should take. The green card was a huge bait. One he wasn't willing or able to bite. With a sigh, Nero folded the cards back into his deck, taking care to not mix them. Seventy-three cards. Considering their value, the Permanency and the Green [Warrior] card were alone able to pay for his expenses for half a year. Finally, he slid the cards back on the card pouch of his bandolier.

"I'll party up with you tomorrow," Altia stated, not asked. Nero shrugged and she frowned. "It will be okay. Trust yourself, Nero. Glom will fix your Arbitrium, we'll Delve tomorrow, take control of our own lives. I'm with you, everything will be fine."

Nero saw hope, joy, and... something else he couldn't identify in Altia's eyes. He sighed and reached for the forgotten mugs. He took a big swig and on the corner of his eye, he could swear he saw her blush.