“The last I saw of you,” Victor said, “I had the impression of a dirty, mangy mutt. Yet, here you are, even dirtier and mangier than our last meeting. Must be a special talent of yours.”

“Is your special talent being a thieving asshole?” John shot back, his hands balling into fists.

“Sorry, I have trouble understanding those of a subpar intellect.” Victor propped himself back and waved around his wand. “Those with an inferior upbringing tend to speak a language that’s too primitive to understand.”

“So, if I punch you enough, we’ll come to an understanding.”

Victo snorted.

I want to deck this guy on sight, he thought. But if he returns the stuff he stole, I might reconsider and give him a gut check alone.

“Where’s the stuff you took?” John grunted.

A slanted smile crossed Victor’s face. “I haven’t the faintest clue of what you’re insinuating? I didn’t take anything from you. You sure your scaly friend wasn’t fibbing? He might have a track record.”

John started to tense his legs, building up the energy that gradually led to his use [Dash Step]. It was the slowest build-up he’d attempted.

“Two new heroes!” shouted Nek, acquiring the attention of other gnoll mercenaries sitting and eating near. “Look. Look.”

“Are they going to fight?” asked another gnoll.

“Hero fight!” yelled a third.

“This mutt wouldn’t dare,” Victor said. “I have several advantages over you.”

“The name’s John,” he replied. “And I’m giving you a chance to tell me where’s my stuff or else.”

John’s legs were loaded with built-up physical energy. He didn’t understand why physical energy was different than mana, but he knew there was a distinction.

When he channeled magic, the energy passed through his head, burning it. When he channeled physical energy, such as the energy that went into [Rabid Blows], it wore him out and fatigued him. There were separate logics between the two energies. The build-up of physical energy had his legs bouncing rapidly⁠—ready to release!

The same gnome girl who had tried to rip off John came around with a tray of food and drink for Victor. She stopped a few feet short of bringing it to him. She most likely sensed the tension in the air, heard the instigation of the gnolls, and got a vibe that she shouldn’t be there.

She was a [Gnome Provisioner, Lvl 25]. A higher level than John. Maybe even Victor here. But her tag didn’t strike John as the fighter type. I’ll let her get out of the way first.

Thwack!

Something struck the back of John’s head. Whirling around, he seized Nek by his neck, his grip almost crushing.

“What was that for?” John yelled.

“It wasn’t him! It wasn’t him!” another gnoll cried. “A tray flew and struck you!”

Before John could respond, his tray and mug flipped off the bench and slammed into his face. Leftover oatmeal and juice splattered everywhere.

John released Nek and wiped at the mess to rid it from his eyes. Getting to his feet, he felt a sudden drop in stamina⁠—he overcharged his legs. The tension escaped him. The energy built-up defused somehow. The consequence left his legs super sore and his body more fatigued.

“What the hell is going on?” John asked as random objects flitted through the air and attacked him.

Rocks. Mugs. Trays. Spoons. Bowls. A wooden shield or two. At some point, John stopped blocking and started punching everything that came his way. It took a while to notice someone snickering as he got attacked by invisible phantoms throwing their junk at him.

He turned toward Victor and saw him laughing behind a hand.

“What?” Victor asked. “You can’t possibly think I’m the cause? Could be that your presence has offended the spirits in the air.”

His tray was already set on the bench. The gnome provisioner was gone from sight. As he laughed, his mug floated up to his mouth. He took a sip.

John lunged at him, quick use of [Dash Step] propelling him into a flying tackle.

Victor flicked his wand, and the air shimmered blue between him and John. With a loud thump, John slammed into the shimmering blue wall that kept him a few inches away from seizing the blond, green-eyed snake.

One punch cracked the magical wall. Another nearly shattered it, throwing up fragments that dissolved into motes of light.

“Every second you delay is going to make your ass whooping worse,” John grunted.

“Unless it isn’t me who gets their bottoms beat,” Victor said smarmily. “Right, Sasha?”

John was one punch away from breaking through Victor’s defense when he felt a dangerous presence behind him. He skipped to the side and felt something whoosh through the air where he’d been. Pivoting around, he found a big-breasted blonde girl standing a head taller than him. She held a silvery war scythe in one hand while she retracted the other that had nearly clocked the back of John’s head.

“Bro, where’s that little lizard cutie?” Sasha asked, her voice deep and sultry. She was a model-like beauty, but she had a rough and crazy attitude that bugged John. She kinda reminded him of his ex, but more tomboyish.

“One, get out of my way,” John said. “Two, I should kick your ass for hitting Xanhilt. But he told me it was a misunderstanding between you two. So, I’ll let you off with this warning or⁠—”

Another blonde walked into the middle of the brewing conflict. He was a little shorter than John, but he was nearly two to three times as wide. He was built like a mack-truck, and he carried a rectangular metal shield with him and no more. It was a tower shield, and something told John the guy knew how to use it.

“I’m guessing you’re Dimitri,” John said, surveying the three. Why are they all blonds? “You jacked my stuff.”

Dimitri’s brown eyes locked with John. The brother was nearly as expressionless as Noname and way more silent. He looked from John to his sister as if disregarding the brawler.

“Get out of the way, bro,” Sasha whined. “This is getting exciting.”

Dimitri shook his head.

John could tell Dimitri would serve as a wall of defense. Sasha looked like the type that devoted to strength and used her weapon art like a fancy club. The two of them together would make his style of fighting hell. One could absorb the hits. The other could return the hits hard.

I gotta get around them and make my shot count before they jump me for real, John thought.

“As pleasing as it is to watch you thrash a raggedy ruffian,” Victor said, “we do need to get back to ensuring the safety of the elven princess. She’s been out there for a long while.”

“No, we need to get back to planting my fist in your face, Vic,” John spat.

“Unlike you, I have bigger plans in motion,” Victor said, rising to his feet. “And I wouldn’t get in my way if I were you. I’m not sure where you’ve left your friends, but one of them is not who they say they are. You might wish to concern yourself with your own house.”

As Victor talked, John charged up [Dash Step] again. This time, he had a specific goal in mind, disregarding anything that was in his way. Nek started to come over as if to pull John away from the three thieves. By the time he neared his hand for John’s shoulder, he was zipping straight at Dimitri.

The hog-like guy reacted too slowly, giving John a chance to dig his heels into the dirt in front of him. By the time Dimitri tried to bash him with his shield, John had skipped to the side and landed in front of Sasha, his legs charging [Dash Step] again.

The wild girl responded right away, throwing a haymaker, which was predictable as hell. The looping punch shifted her from out of place in front of Victor. John saw the opening. Victor saw the opening. The bastard with the wand erected another one of those shimmering barriers.

But this time, John didn’t run straight into it. He’d already noticed how it only protected one side of Victor.

In his anger, he tried to force his way through the last time. This time, he maneuvered around Sasha. He maneuvered around the barrier. He used super short bursts of [Dash Step] and came flying at Victor’s flank. The douche’s smugness dropped, and pure fear took over.

John’s fist. Victor’s nose.

It was the weakest punch he could muster, but it made Victor’s face burst with a spray of blood coming from his nose. John might’ve broken it. That was good and dandy, but another reason why John held back from flooring Victor was to land more than one punch.

The second came rushing out right after the first. The sister-brother pair were responding too slow to do anything about it. Victor was nearly punch drunk from one little strike. The second one was going to floor him and⁠—

Someone’s hand blocked John’s punch. It belonged to a lithe girl wearing a cowboy hat. She shouldn’t have been able to stop John easily. But the⁠—suddenly appearing⁠—cowgirl managed to do so, blocking John’s knuckles from messing up Victor’s face some more.

“Whoa, there, partner,” she said. “I love a bit of roughhousing like the next hero, but this isn’t the time. You lower ranks need to farm up XP on the double and win the battle here.”

John blinked at the cowgirl. He tried to punch Victor again.

The cowgirl got in the way once more, using her palm. Every attempt to hit Victor’s face was met with a block, like hitting an immovable wall.

Sasha roared with laughter. “Hahaha! How are you losing to a tiny thing like her?”

“Why don’t you give it a try?” John yelled.

To his surprise, Sasha actually took his suggestion earnestly. She shoved the disorientated Victor out of the way and punched at the cowgirl.

The cowgirl grabbed Sasha’s wrist mid-punch and flipped her up and over.

It was bizarre for John to watch. It shouldn’t be possible. The cowgirl was a tiny thing. Just a few inches taller than a dwarf. Far thinner, too. But she hoisted Sasha up with one arm and swung her down for a full body slam that smashed apart a bench.

Dimitri charged in next, the front of his shield lined with the cowgirl. His target cocked back her fist and punched the middle of his shield. Dimitri’s weapon splintered to pieces. He flew backward as a result. Far backward. His back hit a weapon stall, smashing it apart and hurling down various armaments.

“Ah, dang it. Went too hard on that one.” The cowgirl kicked at the dirt like an annoyed child. “Good thing he’s got some resilience to ‘im. Might’ve killed ‘im otherwise.”

Victor trembled at the spot, raising both hands as a sign of peace, his nose and lower face dripping red. “They didn’t know who you were. They weren’t at the meeting last night. Please forgive us.”

The cowgirl shrugged.

John looked the cowgirl up and down. She was wearing clothing that looked way too modern. Cowboy boots. Jean shorts⁠—with pockets. Orange tank-top. When John tried to identify the clothing, what he got back was [???]. Either they had an enchantment that blocked his identifying talent, or her stuff was way out of his league.

“Wait… wait a minute!” Victor snapped, becoming enraged. “I thought you weren’t here to interfere. I could’ve handled this primitive caveman myself.”

“Please, do try to handle me yourself,” John goaded, getting a rise out of Victor. He’s prideful, good to know.

“I’m not interfering,” huffed the cowgirl. “I’m not striking the monsters here. I’m knocking around a bunch of idiot heroes who lost their marbles.”

“You’re a hero like us?” John asked.

“Yup,” she answered, magicking a single strand of straw from thin air. She stuck it in the corner of her mouth and hooked her thumbs into her pockets. “If you want to be official about it, my title is [Tower Crasher], top hero of SA 1300 Class at Queen Comika’s Astro Twin Towers. That was our starting point forty years back when Urmatia’s annual isekai season came around for us.”

John blinked. She’s old enough to be my grandma. What the hell?

“The 1300 Hero Class, [The Bane of Queen Comika],” an elf wizard said in amazement. “The greatest class of heroes Urmatia has seen in the past two centuries!”

“And it’s the [Tower Crasher] herself who is among us!” a gnoll mercenary shouted for all to hear. “We are blessed, we are blessed. Our fight is overseen by a Rank 6 hero!”

The crowd that had already gathered at the start of the brawl grew larger.

John looked around, feeling like a fish out of water. He had no proper knowledge of any of this stuff. The best he could grasp was that it was currently the year SA 1340 in Urmatia. He was part of a class of super junior heroes compared to this girl’s class. Her name as the [Tower Crasher] sounded impressive. That and her being a Rank 6 hero must be a big deal, even if he was unsure what the rankings meant.

Did that make her super powerful? She seemed powerful.

The cowgirl superstar ignored the crowd’s adorations. “Or if none of that hogwash means anything to you, you can just call me Betsy. I’m pretty chillaxed even if I’m your senior and all.”

“John,” he introduced plainly enough.

“A detestable fool,” Victor muttered.

Betsy gave Victor a side-eye glance. “I can let the fool get in another punch if you don’t shut it.”

“Please, Victor, call me ignoramus one more time.” John smiled fiercely.

Victor clenched his jaw shut.

Betsy reached out to John. They shook hands, which he found remarkable since her handshake was dainty and soft. She didn’t even have calluses. Maybe she made it a habit to hold herself back under normal circumstances, which John was thankful for. It would be hurtful to his pride if he got his hand crushed by a little brunette wearing a white cowboy’s hat and a pair of daisy dukes.

“John’s a good and simple name. I like it.” She flashed him a smile. “Sorry I got into the mix that was between y’all. Seemed like there’s some personal business that could’ve gone ugly. That’ll have to wait since it needs someone to officiate to make sure nothing regrettable is done.”

John grimaced.

Betsy pointed at the battle.

“You got limited time to farm and loot. On top of that, our side is starting to thin. If you baby heroes don’t quit your lollygagging and take out the mini-boss monsters, the swarm might overwhelm this place. If that happens, we’ll lose ground and lose more newbie heroes.”

John flinched. “What? Really?”

“Yes, really. Set your dispute aside and focus on what’s important. Growing stronger and saving lives. If you can take out those three mini-boss monsters, that’ll help the defenders here a whole lot. If this place stays defended, the leaders can stage an expedition going forward, help other newbie heroes lost out there, and drive the evil side back some.”

“I barely understand any of this,” John said. “It’s a lot to ask of someone to do this work without telling them upfront. And I gotta set things straight with that asshole.”

Betsy looked John up and down with hard, judgmental eyes, making him stand taller.

“You got spirit, hombre,” she said. “You remind me of a friend we lost a month ago. He had the same type of gung-ho spirit. He was a golden glove from the old world and a cestus art user like you.”

John flinched, his heart pulsing. Knowing that someone else had his skill set and paved the way forward here was shocking and comforting.

“If he was here,” Betsy said. “He’ll say, ‘Keep workin’ your techniques. Don’t take shortcuts.’ That’s him. Can’t really tell you what’s all that about. Was a crazy fella, that one. As strong as I am, I would rather take my axe to a big nasty monster than fight them with my mitts.”

Betsy nodded her head toward Victor. “Honestly, you magic-focused folks got it way better. But whoever can dish out the works with their hands alone deserves some respect. So, what problems you two got, it’ll have to be squared up later. After you beat down monster scum and show up the evil side. Especially you, John, since I’m taking a liking to ya already. Now that’s enough of my yakking. All of you have been lounging long enough. Get back to work!”

Her voice resonated loud and far. Everyone in the camp roared, grabbing their weapons and charging into the battlefield. Sasha helped Dimitri get to his feet. They crushed vitality stones to heal. Sasha stole some looks of Betsy as if she was both jealous and amazed with the cowgirl.

John looked over Betsy’s head and at Victor.

Victor crushed a vitality stone and glared back.

“Next time,” John said. “After this mess is over. After I get things cleared up. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”

“Unless you meet an unfortunate end,” Victor said. “You heard what she said. Heroes like you aren’t meant to be.”

John shook his fist at him casually as he started back toward the battlefield. “Maybe we aren’t. But I saw the look on your face when I got you. You’re a little punk who can’t take a hit, and we all know it.”

Victor pressed his lips into a thin line.

Despite all the crap John’s been through, seeing that reaction from Victor plus getting a punch in was a nice victory. He didn’t let it get to his head, though. He was about to reenter a brutal fight. Before he did, he grabbed a gnoll he recognized.

Whipping him around, John held the gnoll by both arms in a way that was familiar and trusting. He looked up into Nek Necktaker’s eyes with a serious gaze.

“Nek,” John said, “can you freaking tell me the basics of what’s going on? I can’t keep doing this while I have no idea what’s what.”

Nek erupted into laughter. “It’s simple, hero. The Monster God spreads his mist around Urmatia. Some join the Monster God and become one with the mist, building dungeons, towers, and fortresses. The bases of evil holding bosses and cores that produce monsters. Others do nothing and raise their walls or hide away from the Monster God. Then there’s us.”

“Us?” John repeated.

“Us!” Nek roared, spreading his arms toward the elves, dwarves, gnomes, gnolls, and other oddities who once had been mere fantasies of John’s old world. “Us! The Urmatian United Alliance! We fight to keep the Monster God’s mist from swallowing all of Urmatia. You, humans, are from another world. You are our heroes, blessed with many powers that can beat back the creations of the Monster God! With your help, Urmatia continues to exist. Without your help, Urmatia is doomed.”

John released the gnoll, feeling a little stunned. That was… a surprisingly decent explanation that summed up what was happening.

So, there was a big bad in this world. It was a deity that was spreading the strange mist John encountered since he’d woken up here. To fight that, John assumed Dolala and the other gods summoned people who died in one world to help save this one for some reason. With one life already lost, this was a hero’s second chance to make a difference elsewhere.

“Why couldn’t the gods tell me that from the get-go?” John asked.

Nek shrugged. “Tribe elder told me the good gods and the evil gods are in a match with lots of rules. Rules that hurt the good side. And everything has a cost.”

John frowned.

He hated that cliche line.

Everything has a cost.

Seriously, it was not fair. Did that mean all the bullshit Dolala had made John and his friends go through was because the Monster God’s side was breathing down her neck? He still wanted to blame her for certain things, but now he was starting to see the reasons behind her actions. Still… he didn’t like it.

She still had a derpy ding-dong attitude in John’s mind.

As he looked over at the battlefield, he saw the fighting was costing lives. The mist continued to spew shamblers that were running at an incredible speed. They moved beyond their levels and the state of their decomposed bodies.

More Skullhead defenders were being carried off on stretchers. They were hurt or weary. Some were unable to continue even when they got vitality stones and stamina stones to help them recover⁠—[Soul] slump got a deep hold of them. They needed time to rest. Time they might not have since the shamblers were pressing hard against the defenders.

“Help!” shouted a wounded elf warrior running back from the fighting. “Someone, help! Princess Siofra and her retinue have been cut off and surrounded!”

“She sounds important,” John said.

Nek grunted in affirmation. “She’s one of the council leaders. Her family funds the mercenaries. Many from my tribe are here because of her.”

“Can’t we get Betsy to help?”

“We can’t have the direct assistance of [The Tower Crasher]. It is said she’s four hundred levels above a Rank 2! A true Rank 6 hero.”

“And?”

“This is a Rank 2 campaign. For anyone Lvl 29 and below at the start.”

“I’m guessing that means she can’t interfere or else it’ll cost the good guys something big.”

Nek nodded, raising his axe. “I must help the princess!”

John sighed. “I got your back, buddy.”

“R-really? A hero will protect my back?” Nek looked at him with something akin to puppy-dog eyes.

John wanted to say it was payback for the meal Nek had paid for, but that didn’t feel right. Something fuzzy bloomed in John’s chest. It wasn’t a purely happy sensation. Nor was it a proud one. It was a feeling of warmth that made him feel needed. Like he was doing something important even if he didn’t understand the full details. Like a call to duty. Something his dad would say.

“Come on, Nek Necktaker,” John said. “Let’s go save an elf princess.”