It was a cloudless night, almost full moon. Nero had no idea where he was going, but he needed to move. He needed to exercise. He needed to run away from all that. Deep in his being, self-loathing, anger, and envy boiled. The city at night was quiet but not dead. Here and there cloaked figures moved with intent, trying to draw the least attention to themselves as they went from one place or another. Harlots offered their bodies, drunkards loitered. Very few to no guards.

He walked without minding his surroundings and soon he found himself in a dead-end alley. he punched the wooden wall that separated the alley from someone's backyard. The wood creaked but didn't give. He hadn't put all his strength either. Turning around to walk back to the streets, he found the alley blocked by a bunch of big someones.

"Well, well. Look who we got here, it's the rich boy!" One of them mocked with a voice full of grunts. In the shade, he couldn't see well but it was probably an orc.

"What do you want, let me go," Nero replied. "I have no business with you."

"Oh, but we have. You see, we know someone is going up and down the town, spending tens of thousands of Essence and buying all sorts of cards. We want those."

'So, that was it,' Nero thought. 'I'm being mugged. Worse yet, I left my sword at the inn.' He was unarmed and unarmored although he could try to use a card. And there were three of them, all of them equally large. He focused and studied them in the shadows, they had Arbitrii. 'Because my luck wouldn't allow me to be mugged by normal thugs.'

"The cards are not here with me. I left them at the inn," he lied.

"Nice try. We are still emptying your pockets. Come on, show everything to us," the thug replied.

The one to the left drew a weapon, he saw the shine of metal against the moonlight. A dagger.

"Okay, okay. I'm getting my cards," Nero moved to his bandolier and opened a card pocket. With fast movements, he drew a card and slotted it.

"Gut him!" The orc shouted.

The device activated and a [Sword] appeared in his right hand. The dagger thug came and Nero could see who he was. A Rhyno-kin, with a sawed horn and full of scars on his tough hide. There was little chance he could wound him through that thick leather without getting to a vital spot. And the huge man wouldn't give him a chance.

"[Quick Stab]" He shouted his Skill.

It wasn't necessary to but common enough people didn't even remember they could activate it silently. The custom existed to warn your party members of what you were doing.

The dagger blurred and Nero tried to dodge and parry a half-dozen stabs. He wasn't successful and got three wounds. They weren't deep as the Skill carried a damage penalty but three wounds were three wounds. Nero's riposte bounced harmlessly against the rhino-kin.

The orc and the other one, with a deep whiny voice, were laughing. Nero thought about his options and decided to try a gamble. He gave ground until his back was to the wooden wall.

"Hey, big guy, I heard once that a rhino-kin without a horn is impotent and can't have sex, is that true?" Nero taunted.

The raucous laughter of the two thugs blocking the alley increased.

"I'm going to show you. Hope you cleaned your ass, dumb ape."

Blinded by rage, the big beastkin charged. Nero dodged at the last moment, sending him crashing through the flimsy wood. Nero jumped after him and kicked the back of his knee, causing the massive person to tumble forward. Nero ran through what seemed a communal backyard for the block of houses. He went around the well and clotheslines, trying to put as many obstacles between his assailants and him.

He could feel the effects of his raised Attributes. He was moving faster, he could think faster and concentrate better. He was not winded as well, having unlocked the Stamina resource.

The three big thugs were crashing into the backyard, and in some houses, lights were coming alive. If Nero could stall the fight but he had to get out of there. He saw a pile of crates against another of those wooden walls and climbed them, reaching the top of the wall and kicking the topmost crate down. Then he jumped down and ran down the alley and back into a street.

He felt a burn on his right shoulder and reached up with his left hand. A crossbow bolt was sticking out. Nero looked around but the street was deserted.

"Guards!" He shouted.

"Go away, ruffian!" Someone shouted from behind window shutters.

People were watching him. He was going to bleed to death in that street and nobody would help. He saw another crossbow bolt coming and dove down, springing back on his feet right after. He then decided to run. Without any way to orient himself, he just picked a direction and ran, shouting for the guards.

Heavy steps came from behind. The three thugs were gaining ground on him and he heard the crossbow fire again. Nero jumped to his right and the bolt grazed his arm. He touched his bandolier and summoned a [Healing Potion]. He bit off the top, holding the glass neck and cork in his mouth while the fluid drained into his mouth. He spat the piece and tossed the vial down. The bolt stuck to his shoulder was painfully pushed away by the regrowing flesh.

He heard the swishing of the knives flying but he dodged too late, the itchy feeling of the potion numbing his senses. They hit his legs and Nero fell forward, sliding and grinding against the cobblestones. His legs were not responding.

"End of the line, brat. Say goodbye to your life," The orc gloated.

Nero felt powerless. He tried to stand up but a heavy foot almost crushed his spine. He screamed in pain as his ribs bore the brunt of the weight.

"Easy, Hesper. I want to kill him myself."

A sword was drawn. A wooshing sound and some impact. Nero was bracing himself for the stab but instead, he felt a spray of hot liquid on his back. Then the sky cracked and he felt the tingle of lightning giving him a slight shock.

Altia knew Nero. She knew his pride was deeply hurt by his Level cap. And he was stubbornly clinging to the last dregs of said pride. She felt guilty because she was advancing and gaining cards with great stats. Maybe her Class wasn't that great but it was like she got free points here and there. And she was double guilty because Nero's parents were splurging on her. She felt that every Essence crystal spent on her was a crystal they didn't spend trying to give Nero more power. That she was parasitizing them.

She had to carry her own weight. The blue Skill card she gained felt like an arrow wound on her heart. And Rhynne gave it to her with a motherly smile. One she never had, because her mother died in labor. The girl went to the window and opened it, staring at the dimly lit city below. The streets were mostly empty, just one or other drunk or prostitute out there. And Nero, somewhere. She wished to go after him but it was not proper for a lady to go out during the night.

Altia got bored of looking at the city lights and turned. She saw Nero's sword resting against the bedpost. And her heart sunk. Nero was out there, unarmed. Her intuition was screaming. He was in danger. Nero didn't have a Class, he had no Skills. He was as weak as a toddler against anyone with a device in this city. That was the wrong way to think but her guilt at her own Status clouded her judgment. Or something else.

She took the sword and ran, throwing her door open and banging on the one across the corridor. Rhynne, in her robes, answered.

"What is it, Altia?" She looked at the girl's face and the sword she was clutching. "Is Nero in trouble?"

She could only nod.

They ran through the streets, Byron shouting, calling his name. Altia was impressed with how fast they got ready, Byron and Rhynne using cards to summon armor and weapons, the man with an impressive and equally massive ornate double ax as tall as she was. She could barely keep up with them, their speed enhanced by their stats.

"There!" Rhynne shouted. "I heard Nero that way."

Altia didn't hear a thing. "Are you sure?"

"Even with the weakened effect of Attributes outside a Dungeon," Rhynne explained on the run, "I have plus fifty of Perception! And a mother recognizes her child's voice anywhere."

They took a corner and found a commotion on a street. Someone was running from three massive people, probably some enormous races like ogres or trolls. Altia couldn't tell. But that didn't stop the high-leveled Adventurers.

Byron swung his ax. "[Hammer Throw]!" He shouted and the weapon flew, claiming one head and carving a gash in the cobblestones.

Probably the same thing as her [Double Tap], it didn't need to be a hammer. Altia ran past Rhynne, that stopped to cast a spell.

"[Forked Lightning]" The [Magus] chanted. A bolt of lightning fell from the sky and fried the last two thugs.

Altia reached Nero and saw he was covered in blood. She could only hope he was still alive and didn't hesitate.

"Nero!" He could swear he heard his mother shouting.

"[Potion Toss]" And Altia too.

Something else washed over him. It wasn't liquid as much as it was a cool breeze. The knives stuck to his legs were pushed out, his body itched and his tiredness faded. He didn't move, frozen in fear. The monsters of the Dungeon were predictable, wild, and vile. This? Fighting against people? It was something else. But his device cared not. It lit up faintly, a notification for him. He didn't look.

A strong hand lifted him. "Son, talk to me." His father. Nero felt like he was five years old again, stuck on a tree he climbed but couldn't get down. He saw the worried faces of his fiancé and mother. The fear washed away and with it went his pride.

Nero cried.

They went to a guard station, Nero was barely aware of everything. He felt small, weak. Unworthy. The thugs had bounties on their heads, paid to his parents. The cards they had were also handed over to them. Altia was by his side but he couldn't even look at her.

"I told you some harsh things, I'm sorry," She said, between small sobs.

"No. You told me the truth. I was just too weak to accept it."

"Let's go home. This city has nothing else for us."

Nero didn't answer.

He returned to the inn in silence and then changed out of his bloody clothes after a bath. He pretended to sleep still in silence, Altia caressing his chest notwithstanding. Nero kept thinking. Accolades and Anima crystals. His path to power was a tortuous one but there was no fast way. He'd have to put in twice, ten times, more even, the effort of anyone else.

"Altia," He spoke, feeling his throat dry and rasp.

"Yes, Nero," She whispered, the sadness in her voice wounded him deeper than the thugs' crossbow.

"First, I am terribly sorry for running away like an idiot. You have the right to be angry at me."

"I am," She replied. "But I am more worried than angry. If you shut myself out of your heart, I am going to die."

"Never," He swore then corrected himself. "Or not anymore. If you are with me, I'll be grateful, my [Chemist]. But my path will be a hard one. I need accolades and Anima to grow stronger. Those are hard to come by, as you well know. My delves will be long, the fights, frequent. I will work myself to near-death every day in that Dungeon, and maybe I can follow you when you move forward. Maybe not.

"I don't want to feel afraid or weak anymore. I don't want to run away, to be looked down on because of my level cap. And most of all, I don't want to be alone."

She jumped over him and kissed his lips. This time it was not a chaste kiss like all others before, but one full of passion.

"Together. We'll fight. We'll grow. Our path will be the longest, but the most rewarding," She vowed. "Because I'll be with you."