John stared at the piles of valuables they sorted out in the middle of the guest quarters. It was a lot to take in, especially the sight of gold. Five gold coins sat in a small pile next to a gathering of nearly 70 silvers and another pile of 2000 or so coppers. Noname grabbed a gold coin and rolled it across her knuckles.

“John’s a rich boy now,” Noname said.

“We don’t know that,” John said. “Besides, some of this stuff is yours and Xanhilt’s.”

“You can have my stuff,” Noname said. “You’re going to share with me, anyway.”

Damn, she’s confident, John thought, chuckling to himself.

“And we definitely do know how well off you are,” Xanhilt said. “Well, I know. One of the questions I asked last night was to illuminate the state of the economy here. While these coins belong to Celcia, a fallen nation overtaken by the Monster God, the monetary units are nearly one-to-one in ratio with other currencies across Urmatia. In fact, in certain places, this is considered even stronger.”

“Alright, smartypants, what does copper, silver, and gold mean toward each other?” John asked.

“Smartypants?” Xanhilt hesitated for a second. “Oh! A human phrase highlighting my intelligence. Ah, thank you, John.” The saurian barked raspily, which was the equivalent of a human laugh. “As for your question, twenty coppers equals one silver, ten silvers equal one gold, and five gold equal one platinum.”

John scratched his head. He was thankful that [Intellect] helped speed up his mental processing. Otherwise, he would’ve lost track of all this knowledge Xanhilt was dropping on him.

“So, we have more than four platinum coins,” Noname said.

“Yup,” Xanhilt confirmed. “As for real-world application, if you consider the cost of a loaf of bread that more herbivore-minded creatures find appetizing… for some strange reason… a copper can buy you five loaves here.”

“So, nobody can sell one loaf of bread here?” John asked carefully.

“We’re in a primitive world where bartering and trading of goods with physical representations is a primary part of transactions,” Xanhilt said. “I can imagine the peasantry here would struggle to even acquire coppers if they’re under a feudalistic ruling. In other words, the battle yesterday was very profitable for everyone involved.”

“Hero biz pays,” Noname said, glancing across the loot they picked up the past week. “Hero biz with John pays even more.”

In another pile were three magic cores. [Astral Projection], [Air Walk], and a new one that came from last night’s treasure trunk, [Spirit Ember]. They couldn’t identify them any further than that, leaving what these cores could do a mystery.

Xanhilt scratched at his chin. “I haven’t learned of what we can do with these yet. But I will soon. Or we all will. In the next few days, Betsy will hold classes for us.”

“You sound way too excited for that,” John grumbled.

Xanhilt grinned toothily.

“Never gone to school before,” Noname said. “I wonder what it’s like.”

John and Xanhilt shared a look of concern. John had to remind himself that the girl with no name’s background was far different from his.

“This is going to be fun,” Noname said, lifting the [Spirit Ember] to her face. Most of the color was black except for a flickering white flame that danced in the center of the magic core. The girl assassin’s face lit up with subtle glee.

“We have more good quality magic stones here,” Xanhilt said, pointing toward the side. “Then we have a mixture of poor quality stones taken from the battlefield. Lots of those, see?” He pointed at the large pile of poor stones. “I’m curious if there’s a way to convert these stones into something else or a stronger strain of recovery magic. I believe Betsy mentioned much of what’s found can become ingredients, or regents, for the creation of spells or magical items.”

“Man, you’re going deep into this,” John said, a little overwhelmed.

“If this is my new life, I’ll like to learn as much as possible,” Xanhilt said.

I’ll try to keep up, John thought, glancing over the pile of [Flesh-Eating Mushrooms], the [Berserker’s Heart], and the [Fractured Lance of the Rider].

He didn’t know what to do with any of those items right now. Xanhilt’s point that they could be used as ingredients might come up as something integral later. They didn’t absorb his curiosity as much compared to the [Warmonger’s Cestuses, Great].

Your rank does not meet weapon requirements. Item won’t equip properly.

“I can’t make use of the new cestuses,” John said. “I can wear them, but it wouldn’t be proper.”

“You’re one level away from being able to, possibly, which reminds me,” Noname said. “Me. You. My weapon art.”

“I didn’t forget our date,” John said with an easy-going smile.

Noname glanced away from him bashfully.

I wonder if she’ll drop the shy girl face when it’s just the two of us, John thought.

Pushing past that, he gave the new cestuses a look. They were darker in color, almost black. The portion that would cover his knuckles looked like knuckle-dusters. The leather material was thicker around the forearms, offering way more protection.

“Should I wear them anyway?” John asked, pulling them onto his lap.

“Will you be able to use your Weapon Art Skills?” Xanhilt asked.

“Nope,” John said.

“Leave them for now. Maybe Betsy will have some cestuses?”

“We’ll see,” John said, leaning back onto his hands. “So, the gear’s all sorted. And it looks like we’re pretty well-off here. Maybe after we’re done working with Betsy today with hit-up town?”

“Maybe we can visit the other ships, too,” Noname suggested.

“Sounds like fun.” John smiled.

“Perhaps,” Xanhilt said, less enthusiastic. “But while we still have time here, let us go over what will open up the world of magic to us.”

“How?” John asked.

“By first sensing magic,” Xanhilt said with a smile.

***

It took up the rest of their time for Xanhilt to explain the basics. Before John could give it a try, goblins arrived with their gear.

Metal plates and leather straps specifically tailored to each wearer⁠—[Novice Adventurer Set, Good]. The design was so fitted John didn’t even need to break in the boots. The belt wrapped around his waist comfortably. The dull gray greaves covering his shin and the pauldrons made him feel closer to a knight. The set even came with a snug helmet that covered his lower face, but uncovered the eyes. Without anyone having to measure him, the gear wrapped around him perfectly. He figured that was the work of magic yet again.

With the addition of their [Redstone Ring of Small Health], the entire outfit granted each wearer a whopping + 45 [Resilience]!

“If we had this at the start,” Xanhilt started saying before falling quiet.

John understood what he was saying without him finishing. They would’ve been walking terminators if they had this stuff from the start.

Man, magic makes everything way more convenient, John thought. Looking over at his loot, he realized how much he would lose if he tried to purchase this stuff. It would probably cost him a lot. But + 45 freaking [Resilience]!

“We’re all wearing the same gear,” Noname said, twisting back and forth. Her hair was tied into a ponytail that dangled down her leather-strapped backside. “The fit is nice on the front, too.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think we should look different,” John said. “At least from what I remember in past games that had classes.”

“Xanhilt would be a wizard with a wizard’s hat,” Noname said. “I’ll be a half-naked rogue. That’s what I know from watching other people play games.”

Xanhilt squinted out of his open visor. “I don’t understand why a wizard must have a hat. It is practical to wear armor just like everyone else while using magic to decimate enemies from afar.”

“Until I make pajamas that make us indestructible,” Noname said. “Then we’ll all dress like wizards.”

“Well, until that day, let’s go see what’s up topside,” John said, fitting his belt with pouches carrying magic stones and some coins.

They threw a blanket over the loot, trusting Betsy’s crew were well-behaved like she’d said. They locked the door behind them on their way out just in case.

On the top deck, John paused to take in the ship’s masts that stretch high above him. The sails bulged under the power of the wind it was catching. The riggings stretched taut, holding everything together.

The top deck was a hive of activity with goblins running back and forth. John nearly tripped over them a couple of times when he failed to pay attention.

They worked together as minor teams, hoisting barrels one way and equipment the other way. He watched as a gaggle prepped actual cannons against the sides of the ships. He saw containers filled with bolts and extra crossbows with wrench mechanisms. A few goblins had their own station near the front of the ship, where they worked metal or leather into weapons and tools.

Betsy was over there in her armor. Under the sunny day, the superior-quality armor and weaponry she had gleamed brightly. As John approached, he decided to attempt the magic sense lesson Xanhilt had given him. He had already spread his Unspent AP into [Intellect] and [Perception], boosting them both to 30 each. They were equally valuable to help him give this magic sense thing a try.

Here it goes, John thought, coming to a stop and closing his eyes. Following Xanhilt’s advice, he shut out his vision since that was the sense people rely on the most. Then he ignored the roaring wind, the stretching sails, the blacksmith hammering, goblin chittering, and dozens of other noises circling around him. He ignored the smells, the sensation of a flying ship under his feet, and the lingering taste of this morning’s breakfast.

He shut out the five senses, which was a struggle to do. Those senses wouldn’t shut down completely. But he tried to anyway. He reached beyond those ordinary senses for something deeper. Something intangible. He went in search of the sixth sense, the mysterious perception of one’s intuition. John had no idea what it could truly do. Could it sense without sensing through the other five? Was it connected to his mind somehow? All he knew was what Xanhilt had told him. Try to reach out to something he thought was magical without sensing it with the big five. Sense it with the sixth. Let the mind shape it for you.

John was unsure if he would succeed. He was half-expecting himself to look foolish, standing there like a statue with his eyes closed. But he kept trying earnestly to sense with the sixth and⁠—there. It was in his mind. A sensation of something that couldn’t be described through the five. It was like pressure. Not exactly a weight. It had no weight. But the more he perceived through intuition, the greater the pressure felt. Suddenly, John’s mind conjured an idea of something having layers. The first layer was vastly more powerful than him and had the shape of a wall and a bubble. It was something akin to [Resilience]. Maybe even [Poise].

The armor? Is that the superior-armor I’m sensing?

Then when he went further, it was a struggle to do so. He almost wanted to stop when the first layer peeled away suddenly. The magic surrounding the superior armor was held to the side like someone was sliding a door for him and granting him entry. He decided to press forward, getting what felt like an inch pass the layers of [Resilience] and [Poise]. Soon as he touched whatever was on the other side, the pressure inside of John’s mind increased to unfathomable heights. It felt like he was about to get crushed. But John tried to push through anyway.

“Stop.” Betsy’s voice snapped him awake. The veteran hero was right in front of him, looking up through her visor. She reached up and clasped his pauldron under her clawed gauntlets. “Don’t push too hard, okay? I could’ve hurt you if I didn’t know what I was doing.”

John removed his helmet and swiped at the sweat beading his face. “What was that?”

“My mana,” Betsy said. “I figured you would try to poke around on your own once I let the cat out of the bag with Xanhilt, but I didn’t think you would take a big ol’ swing at me right away.”

She patted him on the arm, chuckling.

“Yeah, well, your mana is definitely a heavyweight,” John said, shaking his head. “That was intense. I didn’t think intuition was a thing like that.”

“Intuition and the other parts of [Perception] got some unique properties to them when used all together,” Betsy said. “And it looks like some of us can make good use of that attribute pretty fast.”

She pointed across the deck where Noname was walking around with her eyes closed. She stopped, sidestepped, and spun around the goblin crew. When Asmod, the gargoyle, came stomping by, Noname effortlessly danced around the large creature. When she came to a stop next to John, she opened her eyes and looked up at him brightly.

John whistled. “Someone’s got a handle on [Perception].”

“Some heroes gravitate toward certain attributes and know how to work ‘em better,” Betsy said. “I’ve always been into [Strength], really, and another one that’s my bread and butter.”

Huh, I wonder what that other attribute is, John thought. Before he could ask, Xanhilt came rushing from below deck. He nearly collided with a crew of goblins swapping the deck. His footing slipped and tumbled head-over-heels, getting a laugh out of the crew. The saurian ignored them as he got to his feet and ran over to John and the others.

“Look!” Xanhilt shouted, opening a book for them to see.

“I know I said I struggle in the studying department, but we don’t have to rush things,” John said jokingly.

Xanhilt pulled the book to his chest and removed his helmet. “This isn’t about studying. This is… it’s….”

The saurian stared down at the book as if it was going to sprout wings and fly.

“What is it?” John asked.

“This might be a long shot,” Betsy said. “But did you find a spirit of your Weapon Art in that book?”

“The passages here were talking about magic sense,” Xanhilt said quietly. “And as I flipped through the pages, consuming the words as quickly as I could, I received a notification.”

“No way,” John said.

“It is certainly a way,” Xanhilt replied, holding up this book. “My Weapon Art is the Book Art. And… uh… I said yes.”

John paused for a moment. It was a bizarre idea for a weapon art, but it made sense in a way for Xanhilt.

“Captain!” called a goblin from the rear of the ship. “We’re in position. Do we land now?”

“Land!” Betsy ordered. “Mages, cast [Brightcolored Flares] now. I want them up in the air every thirty minutes.”

“Yes, milady!” shouted the goblins.

“You three,” Betsy called, turning to them sharply. “No horsing around here since we’re on the job now. A compass stone is already set for y’all to find your way back to ship if you feel for it. The smiths over there got a new pair of cestuses made for you, John. Pick out a weapon you can use for yourself, Noname. When y’all are ready, we’ll link up telepathically and get going from there.”

“Yes, ma’am,” John and Xanhilt said together.

“Woo, it’s hero time,” Noname said dryly.

Magical flares zipped upward and exploded with sharp cracks and pops, drizzling bright reds and greens that would be visible from miles away. A volley of them lit up the blue sky like daytime fireworks.

John placed his helmet back on, smiling. This was a serious job to get tasked with. He didn’t get as much R-and-R as he thought he would now that he and his friends were a part of civilization again.

But something about having an important role to play in helping others got his blood pumping. Maybe things would even go smoothly this time around since the Monster God’s mist had departed.

John doubted it. And that was okay. He was more than prepared to unleash his fist-fighting abilities if something attacked him. If it comes down to it, I wonder what it’ll be like to fight a fantasy beast?

Maybe he would find out soon.