“On three,” Heath whispered. “One, two, three!”

  Everything happened at once. A [Surge] of mana flooded from Emerald into Copperfield, who didn’t waste the opportunity.

  He leapt forward, extra Power and the augmentation abilities of the mech letting him cross the small clearing far faster than any monsterthey had seen thus far. At the same time, a fireball launched forward, while Heath and Jenny Mae opened fire. It was a mirror of their first encounter, except this time their best attack was Copperfield himself.

  Their timing held, and everything reached the bear at once. The fire splashed against the fur, doing absolutely nothing. Heath’s shot had about as much effect. The plasma slug bounced off impenetrable fur and sizzled against the dead leaves at its feet. Jenny Mae had more success. Their resident sharpshooter had taken a position on one knee, using the stability to line up a shot that would have been impossible for Heath, nailing the beast in one of its eight eyes.

  The roar shook the surrounding trees and Heath thought for a moment they might have won. But the bear was angry more than injured. It reared onto its hind legs to swipe at Copperfield. Suddenly mech armor didn’t look that sturdy at all.

  There was no hesitation in Copperfield’s gait. Sabre extended, he slashed across the bear’s stomach while dodging to the side as the monster landed back on four limbs.

  Heath caught sight of a thin line of black blood, but not enough.

  “Phase two!” The time for whispers was dead and gone.

  To the side, Ekaterina began prepping her strongest force spell, muttering as the crystal on her staff darkened to black.

  They had expected their attacks would be ineffective. The guide – not a waste of money or cowardly – had let them know guardians like this popped up on occasion. Whittling them down was generally the only way for a team to beat them.

  While the Wizard prepared, Jenny Mae kept focused, calmly lining up one shot after another. She hit one more eye, and sent a bullet down the thrashing bear’s throat. A shot that would probably have downed any threat on a hippobream ranch, but not in a dungeon. The bear shook it off.

  It would have likely charged, and flattened the Administrator like a pancake, but Copperfield managed to keep it busy. Dancing from side to side, he got slashes in when he could, opening lines on the tough hide with the mana-honed blade. It mostly seemed to annoy the bear.

  Emerald was leaning against a tree. They hadn’t been thrilled with using the handicapped Skill, but agreed to the plan when it was laid out. With whatever remained of their mana, they reached out, using [Mage Hand] to cause the bear to stagger.

  Heath watched. Not a good enough shot to make a difference, and there was no point in getting close with only a pipe to defend himself. He wasn’t looking to die here. It galled him, the time stretching to eternity, though it was only a half a minute at most.

  Ekaterina stepped forward. Mana swirled around the head of her staff, so dense he could practically see the energy coalescing. A dramatic thrust, that might have been necessary or might have been flourish, and an opaque bolt lanced towards the bear.

  The impact was not something he could describe. Not something he even wanted to remember as bile rose in his throat. An implosion of viscera, along with a gaping hole appeared in the side of the monster. It staggered, the momentum of the blast pushing it off balance, just in time for Copperfield to take advantage.

  Or maybe [Lucky Bastard] came into play. Either way, the sword plunged into the opening in the bear’s hide, coming out covered in black blood.

  For a heartstopping moment, it seemed the bear would continue. True malice gleamed in its five remaining eyes.

  It stumbled, then collapsed.

  “Yes!” Jenny Mae launched up, pumping her fist in the air.

  “No argo!” Emerald shouted.

  Heath realized a moment too late that they were right. With its last breath, the beast looked up, locking eyes on Ekaterina, and her fading staff, where she panted at the side of the clearing. Its maw opened. This had been in the guide as well. Marked as a rare variation.

  A beam of red light, coalesced and lanced out, towards the spent Wizard.

  Heath didn’t think, there wasn’t any time. Every point of mana he had went into [Shield]. A white-blue dome flickered into place, only to be consumed with red light.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He watched in horror as Ekaterina was obscured from view.

  The light cut out, courtesy of Copperfield’s saber through the beast’s neck.

  Heath was frantic. If Ekaterina had died here, he would never forgive himself. There was no way he would be able to enter another dungeon. If the Althalas clan even let him live long enough to try it.

  When the smoke from skill dissolution and mana beam cleared, there she was. Singed at the edges, but ultimately fine, Ekaterina rose from her crouch.

  Heath slumped over in relief. His eyes began to water as his head swam. His limbs shook as he slid down the side of a tree. He could just sleep here for a few minutes.

  A slap across his cheek brought him back to reality.

  “Mana exhaustion,” Emerald grunted. “Don’t zero out next time.”

  Ah, maybe it wasn’t the relief making him light-headed. He forced himself back to his feet and towards the bear. The carcass was dissolving, motes of argo flowing into all of them, and shifting into something else entirely.

  When it was over, the best and worst sight possible greeted them all. A lump of crystalized argo, at least five grams. And it would have to be split six ways. More since there was no way the guild was going to let them keep it in exchange for some feathers.

  Flashing distracted him and he realized they were down to the last hour. The planning and the fight having eaten more time than he realized.

  “We need to move.”

  Jenny Mae picked up their prize, the others forming up to retreat out of the forest.

  “Quick on the way back.”

  It would have been better if they had managed a jog in formation. Or at all. Instead they did their best to stumble towards the entrance. Brute force and the bear’s aura let them get back to the main path with only a few dodged attacks. But then they really had to hurry.

  Heath, Ekaterina, and Emerald had all recovered enough by that point to pick up the pace. But it was a panting, ragged bunch that stumbled out of the dungeon entrance with five minutes left on the timer.

  Waiting outside was a new guild member, with more decorations on the uniform, little knots lining one of the sleeves. Overnight shift was unsurprisingly covered by the lowest-ranking members. Now that it was morning, they would have to deal with the people who had some clout, and some pride to defend.

  The whole group was ushered, sweating and smoking, in Copperfield’s case, to a side room, with a table set up with several scales.

  “What do you have to declare?” The guild member said.

  Copperfield started removing the armor, back into the dolly that had been left for them, while the others emptied bags and pockets. A grin tried to split Heath’s face but he fought it back. They’d done better than he realized in the moment. Topped with their argo, it was an impressive pile of goods for a day’s work.

  The guild member was less impressed. He went through, sorting out a few of the more crumpled feathers, and claws that had been chipped when they tried to remove them from an oversized mouse carcass. For a few of the items, he used one of the dozen different scales spread across the table. When he got to the argo, he pulled out a special version, gleaming in plated gold. Heath couldn’t help himself and leaned over to watch the numbers flash. 5.68 grams. That could go far on a ship as basic as the Loon was right now.

  “Official guild policy is to value everything in credits. Then we get first right of refusal for our 15%. You don’t like it, feel free to walk out and make it 100. This pile isn’t sellable, so it won’t be counted. Keep it or toss it, I don’t care.”

  He tapped a few buttons and passed over a pad. Heath hissed, the air escaping between his teeth. There was no way the valuation was right. He looked up just to see the vacant expression on the guilder’s face.

  “Are these numbers –”

  “All valuations standard and final. You signed the contract before going in.”

  Convenient for the guild that there was no way to gain entry to the dungeon without signing. There was no choice at all. Heath scoffed. He supposed they were supposed to be grateful the guild didn’t press them for more than 15 percent. Didn’t mean he would be happy about it. He pressed his thumb onto the pad and let a unit of mana seep out unformed, signing the document.

  “We have a member standing by for stuff like this. Wait here.”

  With no other comments, the guild member took the argo and left. Copperfield let out a noise that could generously be described as a whine when he watched the guilder abscond with the loot.

  “What in every hell was that?!”

  “First right of refusal.” Heath could feel the sneer as it warped his own face. “They’re taking most of it out of the argo, because why wouldn’t they?.”

  “If it’s sold at a standard price, why bother?” Jenny Mae was less incensed than the rest of them, peering at the different scales and poking the one designated for plant matter.

  “Only sold at a standard in systems with enough.”

  When it became clear that Emerald wasn’t going to elaborate, Heath stepped in. “It’s one of the things they can’t teach at the academy. The solid argo supply is always unpredictable. At least out here,” he added, seeing Ekaterina ready to correct him for being a peasant or whatever. “Which means you can sell it for a markup most of the time. The bank we went to was lucky to have any at all. Their local dungeons must be ridiculously profitable. It’s one of the main reasons ships have delving teams. An even cut of the profits is worth it for a chance to harvest argo directly.”

  “There’s an easier answer. Look around.” Copperfield cut in and gestured to the structure itself. “The grav locking on a station like this would have cost a fortune. I’m sure every gram of argo they can squeeze out of delvers goes right back into expanding this place. I bet if we come back when the system is fully colonized, they’ll have enough hydroponics to support a small city up here.”

  “And fuck anyone who might want to sell them the other drops to make up the cut.”

  Heath did his best to let go of the bitterness. It was proving difficult. Even expecting to get gouged by the guild didn’t make the actual moment hurt any less.

  It was worse because Heath knew how most dungeon management worked. Stories of his uncle’s delving career had been perpetual favorites of his. Five percent. That was the standard fee in the Core for a dungeon maintenance company, whether that was a mercenary group, a guild, or something else.

  The Forest Path Association was charging triple the norm. And it only worked because they were based around a rank one dungeon. Higher leveled classers wouldn’t accept it, and didn’t need to, anyone above level 50 would have enough time, money, or skills to get to a different dungeon that would undercut a group like the FPA.

  Not the rank ones. Low levels with few options, they would take what they could get. That Heath had a ship of his own at that stage was a miracle unto itself. He wondered if guild members were forced into the same cut. And how many stayed once they outleveled the dungeon it was all based on.

  His musings were interrupted when the guilder walked back in. The man tossed the remaining argo at Heath, who almost fumbled, having been unprepared for such a maneuver.

  “All set. It’s this and two of the claws for the cut.”

  “Let’s see that scale.” No way was he walking out of here without confirming the amount.

  The guilder raised an eye but gestured vaguely to the specialized equipment. Heath ignored it all except the gold-plated scale. He was sure if he asked, Jenny Mae or Ekaterina could tell him why the metal was inert to leaching argo when so few other materials were. He would have to be very careful to avoid asking and getting lectured.

  Placing the remaining chunk on the scale, he waited for the result. 4.12 grams. It was still more than he could earn in a day doing anything else, but that didn’t make it sting any less. At least the guild wasn’t lying about what they took.

  Heath confirmed it was correct, signed one more time, and then the five of them left the guild, and returned to the Loon. Everyone held it together until they made it to the bridge.