Talia’s claws scraped against Zeke’s shield, digging deep furrows in the hard chitin. At one point, Zeke had thought that The Bulwark of the Drachnid Champion, as well as the rest of the armor that Luigi had made for him, was nigh on indestructible. The fight with the zombie horde, and then the confrontation with its master had proven otherwise. And though the damage had mostly been repaired over the past two weeks that they’d spent traversing the mountains, the shield and the most heavily damaged armor pieces had yet to complete the gradual process. Not for the first time, he found himself grateful for the armorsmith’s skill that had bestowed the minor repair enchantment on each of the pieces. He’d spent more than a few hours studying the underlying runes, hoping to gain some level of understanding.

The undead girl followed up her latest attack with a lightning fast kick that Zeke barely managed to dodge, then another claw strike aimed at his neck. He intercepted the blow with his unshielded forearm, Talia’s claws making a mess of his bracer. She rebounded on the balls of her feet, her open hands held in front of her face. Zeke’s eyes found her claws, and he winced a little; he knew just how deadly they could be. Driven by her increased strength, she could rip through his armor with only a couple of strikes. Given half a chance, she could tear his flesh to ribbons.

When they’d first started sparring, Zeke had taken it easy on the girl. That was a mistake, because she was far better trained than he could ever hope to be. Later, he would find out that her childhood was a mirror for his own, though in her case, she’d focused on martial arts instead of a sport like baseball. And though Zeke had managed to apply many of the lessons he’d learned as an aspiring professional athlete to his new life, Talia’s own training had been tailor-made for a world where combat was more than a mere possibility.

Before, her abilities had been hampered by her mother’s manipulation; she’d been forced into a role that not only didn’t suit her, but one she’d come to resent. Now, though, her body and skills matched up with her desires, coming together to present a truly terrifying fighter. If Zeke’s own stats weren’t so far beyond Talia’s, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the young, undead woman.

All of that made her a perfect sparring partner, especially when he confined his own efforts to defense. Directly after the battle at the tower, Zeke had spent quite a lot of time thinking about his own development. Despite the viability of his runic rocks – especially if he took the time to develop them – he knew he didn’t have the temperament to become a ranged fighter like Abby. The moment battle was joined, his every instinct screamed at him to get close and engage the enemy. And that strategy had proven to work quite well so far, so there were few reasons to change. However, acknowledging that he would always be in the thick of any fighting came with the realization that he was woefully undertrained. His technique was laughably crude, and the moment he faced off against anyone who could actually think or strategize, he would be at a massive disadvantage.

Thus, he had asked his group for assistance. Predictably, Tucker professed an inability to help; he was a scientist at heart, and despite the effectiveness of his magical grenades, he had very little to offer inasmuch as martial training. For her part, Abby had eagerly offered to shoot him full of arrows, and he’d taken her up on it a couple of times. It was challenging to even track the projectiles, much less intercept them with his shield.

Pudge had been a little better. The adolescent bear had continued to grow, and with that growth came increased strength that had begun to rival even Zeke’s. But, as powerful and unique as Pudge was, he was, at his core, still an animal. A ridiculously intelligent one, sure, but his battle instincts remained that of a dire bear. So, while wrestling with Pudge was fun and useful, Zeke had determined that it would do little to improve upon his glaring weaknesses.

That had left Talia, who had flatly refused, at first. It was only after the third day, when she saw him in action, that she’d relented. Apparently, her refusal had been rooted in her fear of hurting him – a concern that had proved unnecessary in the wake of his decimation of a small hunting party of frost goblins. The little, white-furred creatures had attacked with spears made of ice, but even though they’d been mostly level nineteen, Zeke had torn through them without much difficulty. For Talia, that had been proof enough of Zeke’s durability, and she’d agree to work with him that very night.

It didn’t take long for Zeke to figure out that it might have been a mistake. Because of her newly undead body – and the evolution that had come with it – her stats were impressive enough that Zeke couldn’t just coast through their sparring sessions. But she also had some sort of skill that greatly increased her agility and dexterity as well, which made the entire exercise a nightmare for someone like Zeke, who was used to overpowering his opponents with pure physicality. Though his stats still outstripped Talia’s – even when she activated that skill – they were close enough that the difference in technique had proven very nearly insurmountable – at least at first. But now, after two weeks of daily sparring, Zeke’s constant practice had begun to bear fruit.

Talia dipped low, then raked her claws across his thigh before continuing her momentum with a spinning kick that connected with his jaw, sending him staggering back. She was on him in an instant, her claws and feet a whirlwind of motion. Zeke managed to block, dodge, or redirect most of the attacks, but a fair few managed to sneak through. Eventually, he backed away, saying, “Enough. That’s enough for tonight, Talia.”

For a brief instant, Talia looked like she wanted to continue. No breath came from between her lips. She didn’t blink. If it weren’t for the trembling tension of her barely restrained killing intent, she might as well have been an alabaster statue. Her green veins stood in stark contrast to her pale skin, shining slightly in the flickering light cast by the nearby fire.

“You’re still vulnerable below the waist,” she said, her voice taking a slightly unearthly tone. “You need to practice bending.”

Zeke nodded. She wasn’t wrong. It was very easy for him to forget to protect his legs, and as such, anytime she chose that route of attack, he found himself on the proverbial back foot.

But that wasn’t his concern, right now.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She and Abby had been spending a couple of hours each night together, talking her through various coping mechanisms for what had been done to her. Not only did she have to deal with the trauma of becoming an entirely new species – a monster, according to most – but she also had to cope with her torturous time in the abyss. And on top of all of that, she’d learned that her mother had sent her to Micayne as a sacrifice, that her entire life up until this point had been an outright lie. Any of those issues alone would have been enough to lay anyone low, from a psychological standpoint. But together? It was a miracle the girl was even remotely normal.

“It’s hard to stop,” she said. “When we’re fighting, there’s this cold rage inside of me. I know it’s just a spar. I know how those are supposed to go. But there’s a part of me that wants me to scratch and claw and bite until I have your heart in my hands.”

The statement wasn’t the revelation Talia obviously thought it would be. She’d admitted the same to Abby, who in turn had told Zeke. Normally, she wouldn’t have done that, but she wanted Zeke to understand how close to the edge Talia really was. If they continued sparring, there was every possibility that she would lose control altogether.

Zeke couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do in such a situation. If he had to, if Talia went entirely feral, could he end the threat? Could he put her down? After traveling with the girl for two weeks, they’d only had a handful of conversations, but even that was enough to ensure that he saw her as a person, as opposed to the monster she so clearly considered herself. As such, could he really kill a girl whose only crime was that she’d been born to the wrong parent? Talia was sick. She wasn’t malicious. She didn’t want to be a monster.

But she still might turn into one, he thought with a mental shudder.

“It’ll get better,” he said. “You’ve only had a couple of weeks to get used to it.”

“What if I never do?”

“You will,” he said, forcibly keeping a tremor from infecting his voice. “You’re strong, and I’m not talking about your stats. I don’t know exactly what you went through, but I know enough that I’m sure most people wouldn’t have made it out of that alive, much less sane.”

“I’m not sure if I’m either of those things anymore,” she said, shaking her head. Running a clawed finger through her black hair, she added, “But thanks. It helps having you and Abby on my side.”

At that moment, Pudge decided to interject himself into the conversation, thrusting his nose into her hand. She laughed – a wholly disturbing sound that was laced with unearthly reverberations – then scratched the bear’s ear. “You too, Pudge,” she said. “You, too.”

For all his animalistic instincts, Pudge had been the first to really break through Talia’s walls. Abby had likened it to therapy animals back on Earth, and Zeke had been forced to agree. When Pudge was around, Talia seemed better, at least to his untrained eye.

Good boy, Zeke thought at his companion. Pudge responded with an inarticulate, though infinitely smug sensation – as if to say he knew exactly what he was doing, and that he would appreciate it if his ignorant human companion would just let him do what was necessary.

After an awkward couple of seconds, the trio – armored man, undead woman, and dire bear – went back to the cottage, which had once again grown. Now, it included a third story, which held another couple of rooms. They’d been claimed by the new members of the party. In addition, the spare room that had remained unused since Zeke and Abby had begun sharing a bed had been converted to a laboratory for Tucker.

“I’ve never seen anything like this house,” Talia said as they approached. “My mother…she had a spatial storage ring, but…this is different.”

“So I’ve been told,” Zeke stated. He hadn’t yet revealed how he summoned the cottage. Nor had he unveiled the breadth of its traits; they knew it was somehow tied to his spatial storage, but neither Tucker nor Talia knew anything about the cellar, which had remained concealed.

“You two get your fill?” asked Abby, who was sitting in her rocking chair on the porch, her legs tucked under her as she cradled a clay mug of steaming coffee between two hands. “Or do you want me to shoot some more arrows at you?”

Zeke winced. Dodging arrows wasn’t as difficult as defending against Talia, but even so, Abby could shoot them quickly enough that a few would inevitably get through. The last thing he wanted was to end up as her pincushion again.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said, sitting next to her. “Where’s Tucker?”

Abby jerked her had toward the cottage, saying, “Where do you think? I’m not even sure if he’s sleeping.”

Indeed, ever since commandeering the vacant room, Tucker had spent every spare moment in his new laboratory. When he was asked about what he was doing, he’d only muttered something about being “close to a breakthrough,” whatever that meant. Zeke didn’t care, so long as the man didn’t slow them down. Unlike Talia, Abby would have zero issues with leaving Tucker behind. Or taking care of the problem more forcefully. Regardless of Zeke’s assertion that the man deserved the benefit of the doubt, Abby still didn’t completely trust him. That distrust had only gotten worse as she saw the effects of Talia’s ordeal. Tucker had contributed that. Willingly or not, he was still partially responsible for the girl’s pain. And Abby had more than a little difficulty forgetting that fact.

“He can take care of himself,” Zeke said.

Talia sat on the extra rocking chair, asking, “Are we really going after the Jotuns? That seems like suicide.”

Zeke answered, “We have a quest.”

“And? You don’t have to do everything the Framework tells you to do,” the undead girl said. “Just because you have a quest doesn’t mean you have to run headlong into a situation that’s probably going to get you killed.”

“Such optimism,” muttered Abby. “And faith in our abilities. It just gives me the warm and fuzzies. What about you, Zeke?”

Before Zeke could answer, Talia said, “I don’t mean to sound fatalistic. I really don’t. It’s just that I’ve heard stories about the frost giants. They’re not just monsters. They have an entire society up here in the mountains. And they don’t abide intruders into their domain.”

“Are they sapient?” Zeke asked.

“Probably,” Abby answered.

Talia said, “Definitely. One of my tutors was held captive in their city.”

“Wait, they have a city?” Zeke asked. In truth, he’d expected something akin to what he’d found against the trolls or the drachnids. But hearing that they had established an actual city? Was he really okay with hunting creatures capable of that?

“Don’t get your bleeding heart in a twist,” Abby said. “They’re monsters, through and through. They attack unaffiliated settlements in the Red Wastes all the time.”

“Attack might be a misnomer,” Talia stated. “If the Sentries see the giants on the move, they relay the warning back to the towns. By the time the Jotuns get to civilization, the population has usually been evacuated into warmer areas where the frost giants won’t follow. The giants then destroy everything they can find before heading back up into the mountains. It’s actually kind of…I don’t know…mundane. People there just accept that it’s part of life.”

“That’s horrible,” Zeke said.

She shrugged. “Better than fighting,” Talia responded. “Most of the people in those towns are miners, not fighters. The last time a town tried to fight, three-quarters of the population was slaughtered. It was a town called Daniston, led by a level twenty-three mage. She died, and so did most of the idiots who followed her.”

For a moment, doubt clouded Zeke’s mind. Were they ready for something like that? But then again, he hadn’t been ready for the trolls, either. Nor had he been prepared for the drachnid champion or the queen. He hadn’t been ready for the elemental in the sewers, either. He had still come out on top, though.

“It’s not like we plan to assault the city,” he said. “We’ve just got to kill one or two of them, then we’re gone.”

“I think we all know it’s going to end up a lot more complicated than that,” Abby said. “But none of this changes anything. This is the path we’ve chosen, and nothing I’ve seen indicates we can’t make it work. Now, that doesn’t mean we’ll just waltz up to the Jotun city and –”

“Hvitgard,” Talia interjected. “That’s the name of the city. It’s mostly inside of a mountain.”

“Why can’t anything be aboveground?” Zeke groaned, memories of the troll caves, the sewers, and the lair of the drachnid queen coming to mind.

“Anyway,” Abby said. “My point is that we’re not going for a direct assault here. We’ll just pick one off and be on our way. And we’ll scout it out before we even do that much. If it seems too dangerous, we’ll…adjust our plans.”

“Still a bad idea,” Talia said. “But I’m already dead, right? How much worse can it get?”

“That’s the spirit,” Zeke deadpanned.

“Go team,” Abby added.

Pudge only grunted, but Zeke chose to interpret that as his agreement that they were on the right track – a thought that was met with the bear’s mental eyeroll.