I just can’t understand this guy, Triss lamented inwardly.

Veles had just told him that his Class relied on light, but he had asked him about his capability to distort sound. He didn’t even understand what his Class could do properly. The weirdness of a random tambourine thrown onto the ground in a forest hadn’t escaped him, either.

“Use your head, kid. The light allows you to fool more than just sight. I mentioned that it was abstract,” Veles said.

“Your Class cannot deal any physical damage as it is, at least not directly. You’d be a Rogue-type, and silence would help you early on more than you’d think, you’re useless as a dead person. And you’re already useless as you are right now, alive. Give the book a better look, I’ve other things to prepare for. We only have time until winter for you to catch up,” Veles said and disappeared.

He had really just vanished after finishing the sentence.

Triss exchanged an awkward glance with Zekie who was a little farther away.

“Where did he go?” She asked him, speaking in Lower Dealic.

“I don’t fucking know,” Triss responded in Elvish, before saying the same thing again in their native language.

The body of the monster with the impaled sword withered at that moment and the clang of the falling sword made the situation even more awkward. Triss walked up to it and sheathed it.

“Sorry, could you pick up… that?” He asked Zekie and pointed at the fallen tambourine. He needed a free hand in case they ran into any other monsters and already had a book in hand.

Zekie muttered something beneath her breath and picked it up.

“You fought without magic until the last one,” she commented.

“New Class, I don’t know how it works,” Triss replied, not sure of the word for ‘Class’ in Lower Dealic.

“A new Class?” She asked, having understood the meaning. “You’re already so old.”

Triss gazed at her horns. “Not that old,” he muttered.

They walked away from the Dungeon without much conversation. Triss jumped over the brook while mindful of not dropping the book into the stream. Zekie relaxed quite a bit after crossing it.

“What’s your Class?” Triss asked her, now knowing the right word for it.

She stood still for a moment before walking back to the brook. She extended her free hand to the stream and the skin around her arm slowly started peeling away. Drops of blood leaked out, which expanded into a crimson mist around her palm. The blood mixed with the water beneath and the mist expanded as it collected, but the colour did not dilute.

Triss had no idea what he was watching, but that was absolutely frightening for him to look at. Personal Classes are scary, he thought, terrified at the sight.

Zekie giggled a bit seeing his expression and raised her hand, and the blood mist with it. It enveloped and coated her arm, making it look ghoulish.

Would that be called Heart magic? Blood Tempest? This classification system is terrible, Triss thought and considered asking Sarva later to learn about it a bit better.

Zekie extended her hand outward towards him. “Scared?” She asked him, a bit more comfortable with Veles gone.

Triss’ competitive nature got the better of him and he grabbed the blood-covered hand. He started to feel a bit strange as the mist enveloped his arm as well and became dizzy. He was dazed and didn’t realise his other arm was moving, and only snapped out of it when Zekie had caused him to lightly tap his own head with the book.

Triss let out a loud gasp and almost ran away, realising what happened. Zekie let her grip of him go slowly and looked a bit embarrassed.

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun,” she said.

“Why were you so scared of going in there when you can do that?” He asked, clasping his arm over his head. He was genuinely confused due to how terrifying that experience was.

Triss then saw the blood seemingly disappear from the mist as it became what looked like crystal clear water. It was letting out steam, and the skin on her hand had become normal.

“I brew rum, I don’t hunt,” she responded as if it were the most obvious answer.

The water then fell and splashed on the ground getting her legs slightly wet.

Triss realised from that experience that some questions were better off not being asked. He silently led her back out of the grove, trying to distract himself by reading the book. He couldn’t focus, though.

They soon came on the same trail and started seeing the local architecture. The houses were all wooden, but they looked sturdy. A few of the residents gave him glares but quickly turned their heads away. It wasn’t long until he could see the mansion and ships in the distance and the familiar earthen architecture native to Himmiord.

“Does everyone build houses of mud across the ocean?” Zekie asked curiously.

“No, they—” Triss said before reconsidering his words. They are made of… mud, he thought.

“They use mud, but they’re not mud houses. Earth Tempests are mostly responsible for building things,” Triss explained.

“Is that what you call mud mages?” She asked innocently.

Triss wasn’t sure whether Bran and Oakley would like to be called mud mages. He was just glad they couldn’t speak Lower Dealic.

“Something similar,” he said as they approached the compound where the rest of the Scholars’ crew was staying.

“Are you free later? I need to find my way back there,” Triss asked her at the entrance.

Zekie stretched her arms and handed over the tambourine. “Sure, I’m just supposed to guide you for all of today,” she said, “just find me here, I’m not allowed inside there.”

Triss nodded with tambourine in hand and went inside the compound.

Why do they all shake their heads for everything? Zekie wondered.

Triss returned to the spot outside the compound an hour later with Sarva and Valerica in tow. He managed to convince them to help figure out his Class by hinting at the Dungeon’s uniqueness. Plant-based monsters were quite rare and both of them took an interest in that.

The uninvited guest was the hulking Luminary following them a few paces behind. Shaw stated that it was necessary to fulfil the Scholars’ obligation of protecting their crew but it just seemed like a punishment for Randall. He had recovered physically but twenty cold nights frozen aboard the ship’s deck had weakened his mental fortitude considerably. He had ironically ended up becoming the Scholars’ dog over the voyage.

Triss just tried to pretend that Randall didn’t exist. He left it to Sarva to manage the brute and looked around for Zekie. He found her munching on a mango, with a basket full of them in the other hand.

She finished it and took out another and offered it to him with the same hand that she had used her blood mist with. Triss begrudgingly accepted it, realising he hadn’t eaten the whole day. He also made sure to recover some stamina with the bracelet, bringing down its capacity to about two-thirds. Zekie smiled playfully until she noticed his High Human companions.

“This your new friend?” Sarva asked. “Hey, I’m Sarva,” he introduced himself.

Triss stood dazed for a short second, having forgotten to have introduced himself to Zekie. Courtesies like that were still a relatively new thing for him.

Zekie nodded her head awkwardly, trying to imitate the gesture. “Zekie,” she replied, “Elvish n-not good.”

“Do you speak Lower Dealic, then?” Sarva asked fluently in the same language he mentioned.

She stood wide eyed before answering. “We call it Deshic.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected,” Sarva murmured.

“You speak it, too?” Triss asked Sarva.

“You speak it, too?” Sarva asked back with eyes of interest.

“I don’t know what anyone’s saying but can I try that?” Valerica asked, glaring at the mangoes in Zekie’s basket.

“She wants one of the fruits,” Triss translated.

Zekie nodded again and handed one over. Sarva got his hands on one soon after.

The group walked away from the settlement without being relatively quiet. Sarva kept questioning Zekie about the local culture, economy, and way of life. He kept laughing whenever she mentioned mud mages or other mistranslations. Triss quietly skulked back with a slight envy for most of the trip because of Sarva’s fluency with the language until they reached the grove before the dungeon.

Triss walked over to the side and found the first runaway that he had killed. Sarva and Valerica followed him and inspected the creature.

Valerica dipped a finger into the creature’s wound and, with magic, brought out a few drops of its blood that hovered next to her finger. She then proceeded to lick it.

“Kind of sweet,” she mused. “Reminds me of Wafa trees.”

“I think they are made of Wafa trees. Look at the bark,” Sarva said and broke off a piece of the creature’s skin. He surveyed the trees nearby and they both confirmed the suspicion.

“Can we cook it?” Valerica asked.

“We ought to try for sure,” Sarva said.

“What’s a Wafa tree?” Triss asked from the side.

“They’re a type of tree that’s only found in—that was previously thought to be only found in North Deas. Flames with it are used to grill meat, the evaporating sap adds a ridiculously good flavour. Finding meat and the sap mixed together is a stupid lucky find for a Dungeon. They’re usually quite expensive too…” Sarva said with eyes of glee.

“Don’t tell anyone. Not even the Scholars, got it?” Sarva told the group.

Zekie barely understood anything besides ‘cook’ since the conversation was in Elvish.

Valerica agreed instantly. “No way I’m telling those pricks about this. I’m getting off here after the expedition.”

The best things that Triss had eaten were white bread and the mango from half an hour back so he accepted it without thinking much about it.

They moved onward to start discussing Triss’ Class and the contents of the book.

“Attacking Wills directly? That’s crazy,” Sarva said after Triss recounted Veles’ explanation. “Why are things always so crazy with you?”

“...Do you know what it could mean for light to fool sound?” Triss asked.

“You don’t get Classes that abstract unless you awaken someone at birth. But even then, it’s never that strong,” Valerica commented.

“Is it really that strong?” Triss asked. “Veles said it couldn’t damage enemies physically.”

“Do you understand how stupid it is to attack a Will? You could cripple them from the other side of the island if their magic was present near you,” Sarva responded. None of them knew enough about the Class to understand that this wasn’t the case, and they merely parrotted Veles’ words.

“And maybe attack the Threat directly, too,” Triss brought up the possibility.

“Fuck,” Sarva muttered at the realisation. “No fucking wonder this was so big.”

“Agreed,” Valerica added. “That’s one weird Class.”

“You should see what her Class is like if you want to see weird,” Triss responded with a snide at Zekie, who was unaware of the contents of the conversation.

They were talking next to the Dungeon’s boundary near the stream of water, and Triss was hoping someone else would share in his horror of the sight. They also made sure to notify Randall in the back to prevent any overreactions.

He soon got his wish after convincing her to demonstrate again. Sarva and Valerica had their mouths open wide seeing the blood mist cover her hand. When she demonstrated her puppeteering ability with Sarva, he ended up screaming. Randall rushed forward at the sound, despite the warning.

“You’re right, Triss. This is so much weirder,” he said. “Sorry for the confusion, Zekie,” he told the girl before she calmed down.

“What happened to you?” Valerica asked him as Randall walked away after inspecting the situation.

“Mind control. Or something. I don’t know, it wasn’t any sort of Mind magic that I’ve seen,” Sarva said.

“She uses that to brew rum,” Triss added, “apparently.”

“Are you sure you want to get off on this island, Val?” Sarva asked her somewhat sarcastically.

“No, not that,” Zekie interjected as the blood mist turned into steaming clear water. “This,” she said.

“Can I touch that?” Sarva asked.

“It’s boiling,” she replied.

“Distillery Tempest, wow,” Sarva exclaimed.

“Do you call that a Blood Tempest or a Heart mage, back on Himmiord?” Triss asked.

“I… Uh. I’m not sure. You know, Heart mages get the name from Khea, yea? With your two hearts and stuff. Like people with control over life in some form. Tempests refer to mages who have a control over a force of nature. I’ve never seen, erm, both,” Sarva remarked.

The water splashed on the ground as he said that. Triss had achieved his goal of sharing his misfortune, so they changed the topic back to his Class.

“This book is absurd. I wish I had something like that,” Valerica mentioned after flipping through a few pages.

“There’s like a dozen progress paths and possible skills that take advantage of your Class’ magic, based on what you want to focus on,” she added.

“I don’t think he has any skills yet,” Sarva mentioned. “Should start with a simple one.”

Triss learnt a bit more about skills following that. He was aware of the concept in general but had no idea about the ‘optimisation challenge’, or so they had called it. A highly specific skill was powerful and had a relatively cheap cost in mana but came with limited utility, while the reverse was true for more generalised skills. And the stronger the Class became, there came the capacity for Triss to condense more skills to call on with instinct.

The group looked for something that seemed easy and well-suited to Triss and found something called the ‘Melancholic Lightsword’. It was similar in effect to the move Triss used earlier in the day and involved projecting a beam of light that could double as a sword. Triss would have to infuse the light with a painful sensation, which would be magnified and transmitted to anyone cut by the sword. It seemed like the perfect combination with his dagger.

He experimented with forming any sort of light in the first place. That much was easy enough, but it took him half an hour to infuse any sort of emotion or sensation with it. The one feeling he would always think of was the agony he felt when he had awakened the Class, and it was suitable to weaponise. He condensed a head-sized orb of the light with the reminiscent feeling of agony, and Sarva volunteered to test it out.

He reached out his hand to the pink light and collapsed without a sound after touching it. The startled group checked up on him and found him fine but recovering on the ground.

“You said you hadn't started training your Class until today? Fucking liar,” Sarva remarked.

“What did you have to go through to project something like that?” Sarva asked while coughing.

“The awakening?” Triss asked. Did everyone not have to deal with that?

“You lost all your damn senses but pain, huh? No wonder you looked like death that day,” Sarva murmured. “Melancholic Lightsword is too good of a name for something like that, call it sword-up-your-ass.”

“The original name is terrible, too,” Valerica mentioned.

“Exactly,” Sarva agreed. “Honestly, do you even need other skills when you have something like that?” Sarva asked after turning his attention back to Triss.

The light changed form to resemble a sword the next moment. Triss placed the illusory figure within his hand and grabbed it as if it were a real sword. It weighed nothing, but the light moved along with his hand’s motions.

“Oh, sorry, greatsword-up-your-ass,” Sarva corrected the name he had suggested after seeing the size of the lightsword. It was about as long as Triss was tall.

Triss practiced swinging the sword for another ten minutes or so before it dissipated and he collapsed on the ground. Something had clicked within him around a minute prior, and he knew he had succeeded. He was satisfied, he reckoned he could keep it going a lot longer at the same strength if he used the dagger.

“Out of mana, huh? At least there’s a weakness somewhere,” Sarva commented.

“How’s that a weakness?” Triss asked. He thought he had it going for a really long time.

“The average person can work up to four hours in most cases before running out, Triss. Unless they have skills that bring down buildings or something. Something seemingly so simple shouldn’t empty out so quickly,” Sarva explained.

“It attacks the Will, I think it’s the same vein as bringing down buildings,” Valerica retorted.

“I know, I know. Not that crazy. Yay,” Sarva exclaimed sarcastically. “What else looks good for him?”

“I saw something called ‘Wraith of the Verdant Nightmare’, long range moving illusions. Same concept as the sword, but more sinister and more crazy,” she added.

“Veles really needs to get better at the whole naming thing,” Sarva commented.

“Wraiths-up-your-ass?” Triss asked, trying to get involved in the conversation.

Valerica erupted in laughter as Sarva sighed. Triss smiled a little.

“How are the defensive skills like?” Triss asked for their opinions.

“I don’t think you’re ready enough for any of them,” Sarva replied. “They’re too complicated, especially compared to this. I reckon you’d need to get good with the theory and grow your Class more before you can even think about those. Just look at this one called ‘Resplendent Inversion’ or ‘Passing of Snow’. I don’t even understand what the former does, and the latter lets you imprint the effect of real-world phenomena, which is… so abstract it could mean anything. Your mana pool won’t even last a minute with stuff like that,” he suggested.

“I didn’t understand any of that either, I’ll work on the wraiths next,” Triss said.

They decided to move into the Dungeon and see the sword skill in action. Triss couldn’t count deaths like Veles could, but he could feel the surge of the monsters’ records. He decided that the tambourine could wait.