Throwing pebbles was significantly easier than throwing stony walls or floors. Oddly, the glowing crystals counted as well, Vel magically tossing a small, broken piece of glowing blue gem forwards and backwards through the dark underground ravine. The stone flew forward, clearing the path for them, then she tossed it back to her hand, watching the level in her vision rise again.

  [Rock Throw level 36]

  Sigurd held his own handful of stones, lighting their immediate area.

  “What am I supposed to find us to eat?” Vel asked.

  “This deep in? A snake or a rat.”

  “You want to eat a rat?”

  “It’s tasty; practically like chicken.”

  “That’s what you said about the hornets!”

  “I never said the hornets tasted like chicken, though they are close.”

  “No, the other thing. Called them a ‘delicacy’.” Vel rolled her eyes, now tossing the stone in her hand without magic. She was feeling a growing soreness in her legs with each use of the spell now, almost like she was compensating for throwing the rock so much. That, or her shoes really couldn’t handle much more. She did not envy walking through this place barefoot if it came to that.

  “What are you whining about?” Sigurd asked. “We didn’t even get to eat the hornets.”

  “Thank the gods.”

  “Really? Except now you’re starving.”

  “And you’re not helping. Want to catch a rat with me?” Vel asked, looking up at his dimly lit face. He shifted his hazel eyes to look at her.

  “No.”

  “You must really like that word,” Vel narrowed her eyes.

  “No.”

  Now he was just doing it on purpose.

  “Aren’t you the [hunter]? Isn’t catching things to eat sort of your thing?”

  “Yes, but if I did the work for you, what skills would you gain?”

  Vel opened her mouth to protest, then clamped it shut. He probably could shoot a rat dead with one arrow, which would rob her of a potential skill gain. “Fine. How about I gain a skill, and then you kill it? I’ve already seen enough of my own blood for a whole lifetime.”

  “So dramatic,” Sigurd said, then sighed. “Very well. I suppose that works. I’ll step in to help after you’ve gained a skill, and at least level another skill.”

  “Hey! That wasn’t━” Something ahead skittered through the darkness, Vel freezing as she stared towards it.

  “You should toss your stone forward again,” Sigurd said, his voice low.

  Nodding, Vel used [rock throw], flinging her glowing stone in front of them. At the sight of red eyes against a black, rodent-like body, she recoiled, stepping back. Its tail moved at unnatural angles behind it, and it chattered its teeth, stepping towards them threateningly.

  “Maybe I should help you with this one,” Sigurd whispered, slowly pulling his hunting dagger from its sheath.

  “What is it?” Vel asked, and just as she did, the rat sunk into the ground, almost as if a hole hid within the shadows. A screech sounded to Vel’s right, and Sigurd shoved her aside, the air knocked from her as she landed on the stony earth.

  Wide-eyed, she watched as Sigurd reacted to the beast launching straight out of the wall, like it had teleported there. He stabbed at it, his weapon hitting air when it twisted unnaturally through the air. Jaw unhinged, it bore down on the hunter, but before it could bite him, his fist collided with its face, and it flung towards Vel.

  Feet scrambling, she pushed herself aside, barely getting out of the way as it landed beside her. Its open maw, lined with sharp teeth, stretching out towards her had Vel reacting, pulling her little dagger out and chucking it. She heard the dagger chink against stone before she even realized the beast dodged, then smacked right into her.

  [Dagger Throw level 31]

  [Skill gained: Rapid Dodge]

  [0.5 Dexterity added]

  [Tough Hide level 6]

  Knocked against the ground, Vel sucked in a sharp breath, and shivered at the feel of the animal’s grimy fur. It jumped from atop her, dodging Sigurd’s dagger slash, and disappeared back into the ground again. Just as Vel was scrambling to get up, she heard a shriek behind her, then felt a leathery cord wrap around her neck.

  Panic shot through her body like lightning as she desperately fought against the rat’s tail, grabbing at it with her fingertips, even sinking her claws into it. She writhed, mouth open, trying to suck in air that just wasn’t coming.

  [Skill gained: Constrict]

  [0.5 Strength added]

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  [Tough Hide level 7]

  [Metal Claw level 9]

  Nothing was working! She pulled and pulled, quivering from the lack of air. She dropped a hand, searching for Sigurd’s foot or leg when he moved out of sight. Anything!

  Holy Retribution! she thought, eyes wide, staring up into darkness with a desperate plea. She reached a hand up, searching for the other end of the tail, even yanking, scraping her nails down it.

  [Poison Sting level 2]

  [Metal Claw level 10]

  Sigurd! Vel yelled internally, closing her eyes. Please!

  At long last, hearing a pained screech from the rat, the tail loosened. Velmira sucked in a sharp breath, then coughed repeatedly, ripping the limp tail from her neck as she rolled to her knees. The severed tail fell to the ground in front of her, its blood barely a visible stain. Enough of one that she gasped, scrambling up to her feet, then stumbling back until she was pressed against the cavern’s uneven wall.

  Ahead, the rat was gone, but Sigurd stood there, watching, waiting, all while holding a spot on his arm, dagger now in his other hand. A grimace was splayed across his face, and he pulled his hand from the bloodied bite on his arm, grabbing Vel’s shoulder and yanking her away from the wall as the shade rat emerged just above her head.

  She scampered to the other side of the hunter, barely staying upright, and twisted. Sigurd, holding a fistful of the rat’s fur stabbed its underside, then ripped his dagger free to stab again. With each stab, the rat screamed, its shrill shriek echoing through the ravine, forcing Vel to shield her ears from its cry.

  The hunter ripped the rat free from its shadowy hold in the wall, then dug his dagger deep into the animal’s skull, hearing it relinquish one last cry until it fell limp in his hands. He yanked the dagger free from the dead animal, then dropped it to the ground. Even Sigurd released a few labored breaths.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, turning to Vel, who stared at the dead rat for a long moment, then nodded.

  “What,” she croaked out, twitching at the sound of her own raspy voice, “was that?”

  “Shade rat,” Sigurd said. “I didn’t think we’d find one in here, but I guess the monsters here are much stronger than the last time I passed through this way.” A worried look came over the hunter’s face, and he looked out towards the rest of the ravine ahead of them, not that there was much to look at in the darkness. “I might have made a mistake taking you this way, Velmira.”

  “We can’t turn back now,” Vel said, her voice already improving. She pulled a hand up to her neck. While the flesh was tender, it wasn’t as bad as she thought it’d be, likely due to her constitution skill [tough hide]. Thank the gods she had to fight stupid chickens!

  “No, we can’t. We’d likely double our travel time if we did, and we’re already short on time.” Sigurd, pulling a dirtied cloth out, briefly wiped his dagger down, then sheathed it. He bent over, retrieving Vel’s dagger, and offered it to her.

  She took the weapon, putting it back in its place. “We’re already running out of time, whatever of it we had to begin with,” she said, furrowing her brow. They should have been in Lamone already, which meant that the church was there━Oma was there.

  “She’d kill Edard, wouldn’t she?” Vel asked, “The high priestess?”

  “No,” Sigurd said, shaking his head. He bent over, cringing as he pulled the rat up. “She has no leverage on you if she kills him.”

  Vel followed after as he started walking again, glancing back at the rat’s tail on the ground behind them. While what the hunter said gave her hope for rescuing Edard, she knew that she was far from even being strong enough to do it. “I need to get stronger, and quickly,” she said.

  “Why do you think I’m always making you fight things?” Sigurd asked.

  “I knew that . . .” Vel sighed out, and looked up to the hunter. “Thank you, Sigurd, for helping me.”

  The hunter glanced back at her, then gave a nod. He looked unsure of how to respond, and ultimately didn’t, at least not to gratitude. “We’ll use the coal I collected earlier━make a rat stew.”

  Ick.

  “At least we can replenish some of our strength by filling our bellies,” he said. “After we get out of this ravine. If there’s one shade rat, then there’s bound to be more.”

  “How much further is this dungeon?” Vel asked.

  “It’s hard to say. The distance from here isn’t far, but whatever may lie between us and the dungeon’s exit might make it further than it actually is. One more night’s rest and a bit more walking, then we should be in Lamone.”

  Vel nodded. “If they have Edard, then they’ll use him against me, which means I have to fight people that have been leveling their whole lives,” she said.

  “Only since they were twelve,” Sigurd reminded. “But yeah, pretty much, if they could find you. It’s more likely they’d stage it to bring you to them though, a public execution or something.”

  “So I’m doomed then?”

  “If they have him,” Sigurd said, then sighed. He stopped, turning to Vel, giving her an annoyed look. “You can’t spend all this time worrying. Loverboy’s not dumb, he’d have fled the moment they arrived in Lamone, most likely.”

  “Where to?”

  The hunter turned back around, continuing through the dark ravine, stones held up to light the way. “If I were trying to escape the church, I’d continue west,” he said. “There’s a country across the sea, one the Church of Retribution hasn’t been able to touch, not since the War of Sacrifice ended nearly thirty-five years ago.”

  Part of Vel wanted to ask why she hadn’t heard of such a war, but her education had always been lacking, and by this point, she knew the church had deliberately hid things from her. So, she asked the next best question, “What was the War of Sacrifice?”

  “The queen of Ymril had nine sons and one daughter, the war━”

  “Nine sons?” Vel interjected, jaw dropped. “Ten children! Can women really have so many babies!”

  He looked back at her, blinking. “Velmira, women normally bear at least half as many children, unless they have an issue of infertility.”

  “Do you think I could━”

  “Would you like to know the rest of the history, or not?” Sigurd asked, words hastily spilling from his mouth.

  Vel, cheeks a tad warm, nodded. “Yes, please continue.”

  “Ymril is a matriarchal country. Women have more political weight there than men, so ideally, the kingdom would pass to the firstborn daughter,” Sigurd said. “The queen’s one and only daughter was born as the [sacrifice]. War broke out between state and church, and the church was driven out. Been that way since. Only problem was that the church had already gotten their hands on the Ymrillian princess.”

  “Hold up,” Vel said, raising a finger. “I was a princess in a past life?”

  “Past life?” Sigurd asked, Vel looking up towards his deeply shaded features, hidden by an ever growing beard.

  “I’m the same girl,” she said. “Just reborn. My [boon of renewal] allows me to be reborn everytime I’m killed. Only I can’t remember any of my past lives.”

  Sigurd stared at her for a long moment, or rather, more particularly her hair. It was long enough that Vel reached her hands up, trying to correct whatever was wrong with it. Well, what wasn’t wrong with it? Her hair was a horribly frizzy mess, and her braid was barely intact after everything so far. She pulled the cord out of it, beginning to rebraid it over again.

  “Do you keep traits from your past life, maybe?”

  “How do you mean?” Vel asked, pausing. Her hair. She’d never seen anyone else with hair that was such a color. Closest there was was ginger.

  “Ymrillians have blue, purple, or black hair colors. Nothing light like yours, but mixed with a blond or red hair color from Alnonors, this strange light purple could happen,” Sigurd said.

  “Strange?” Vel scrutinized.

  “You and your hair.” She swore she saw his eyes roll in the dim lighting. “Look, if he fled further west, maybe we should set our sights on Ymril.”

  Tying her braid off, Vel sighed, flipping it back over her shoulder. “Only if we find out that that’s where he’s going. I can’t abandon him here.”

  “I know.”