I claimed Anomaly's first official victory at a steep cost. Halfway up the hill, the adrenaline waned, and I realized how badly the gargoyle had gored my ankle. Flesh had been scraped from bone, and the ugly bastard's teeth left marks up its ridge.

  I dragged my foot up the hill. Thankfully, no immediate quest appeared that urged me to clear the dungeon.

  Breathing room?

  Nah, it couldn't be. I bet if I sat back and kicked up my feet, a fucking fault line would split open and swallow my recliner.

  I winced as my nerve endings reminded me of every sustained blow. Making matters worse, Duskblade and company met me with giddy eyes and too many words loaded on their tongues.

  "Cyprus, are you OK? Why don't you sit down?" Duskblade asked.

  "That was unreal..." Skurt said, voice trailing off.

  Deadly Talon's praise came at me in a chaotic tangle of voices, all talking over each other. I pointed to my bloodied ears, and they shut up. Besides a high frequency ring underscoring their words, I could hear enough.

  I reached into my satchel, finding damp leather and broken glass.

  There goes the health potions.

  Duskblade stood in my way, holding up four fingers.

  "Four," I said.

  He nodded, and I stepped past him, wondering how long I could get away with pretending I couldn't hear a damn thing.

  "Look at his foot! How's he still walking?" Skurt asked.

  "Shh!" Duskblade said.

  I savored the silence until we crested the top of the hill, where Jaxen sat on one of Deadly Talon's horses.

  Duskblade produced a trauma kit from a saddlebag. He handed it over and I plopped down on a mossy rock. As I bandaged my shredded ankle, I noticed the wound had already staunched the bleeding.

  I found a medicinal, adhesive bandage tucked between disposable parchment. Duskblade offered a hand, but I brushed the assistance aside and slapped the hemapatch over my gouged shoulder. By the time I stood back up, I could feel my third Recovery stat point working overtime.

  "Sorry to be a bother, but when you left me to watch the horses I tripped and sprained my ankles." Jaxen winced, clenching his teeth together. "At my age I'll never survive the trek back. Please excuse my error and afford me your generosity."

  "Yes, of course—what's your name?" Duskblade asked.

  Jaxen started to say his name, then broke into a coughing fit. "My sincerest apologies," he said in a withered, 102 year old's death bed voice. "The fall has devastated me."

  "That's my damn horse," Skurt said.

  "Bear no worry. Cyprus can take my horse too, and we'll hike back together."

  "Lack of company is not my concern. We're over 20 miles from Ingcaster," Skurt said.

  Jaxen doubled down on his obscene coughing fit, complexion turning bleach white.

  Is he really sick?

  "Skud is right... We have no right to your mounts." Jaxen motioned like he was about to dismount only to stop, staring Duskblade in his eyes. "I suppose one can't complain of dying in the sweeping beauty of the Okapi Woodlands."

  "Spare me such nonsense." Duskblade bowed, and motioned me toward his horse. "May Galdir bless your swift return to Ingcaster."

  Before Skurt could object, his three juniors dismounted and joined the weird bowfest, waiting to raise their heads until I climbed onto a horse.

  Deadly Talon's archer squeezed Skurt's shoulder. "We shall walk with you in solidarity."

  "You have my eternal gratitude," Jaxen said as he sat upright, whipped the reins, and took off.

  I followed his lead, parting ways with a simple wave of the hand. I was pleasantly surprised by my speechless escape. We pushed our steeds hard for the first two miles, then transitioned into a consistent trot.

  "Seems we're both liars." Jaxen said with a skeptical gaze. "I've raided with the world's strongest warriors. Kael the Lethal Bulwark, Ronan the Insurmountable, the Second Immortal, Denny Danny Durburger the Golden Noble, Sindart—the toughest bastards this side of Gadika. Not one of them would be stupid enough to throw themselves at a group of stone sentinels without proper support. And for good reason, they'd die.

  "When you ignored my pleas to retreat, I thought you were dead. I was certain every blow they landed would be your end. I'm not sure when it occurred, but at some point they were the ones on losing ground. Maybe they always had been. I never thought I'd see a dungeon guardian and its minions hesitate."

  I wasn't sure what to say in response. So, I remained silent. Personally, I considered my overall performance sloppy. Underestimating their raw defenses and the gargoyle's speed resulted in more pain than I had bargained for. Although, working toward another stat point in Resilience wasn't the worst outcome.

  Jaxen's brow tightened, jaw shifting like he was chewing on gravel. "The more I think about what I saw, the more I'm bothered. You smashed that colossus's face with a bare knuckle punch. Yet, you struggled with the flying sentinels."

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "It was a secret martial technique. One I cannot use twice in close succession. I am a skilled fighter. One who has spent most of his training in solitude. I had no contact with the outside world nor do I recognize a single name you've spoken of. My master forbade it."

  "Who was your master?"

  "He never told me his name. This is part of the reason I'm seeking guidance. As you saw, I have the potential to lead a squad like your Crownless Raiders to the top."

  The mention of his former group cast us into a lasting silence. We rode north for another few miles, leaving the thickets behind for open plains and the faint, well-worn trails of passing travelers.

  Finally, I broke the silence. "I'm guessing you lost the book."

  Jaxen produced his leadership book from the saddlebag with a smirk. "Don't underestimate me."

  "So, you'll take the role as my mentor?"

  A warm breeze swept the valley, lifting the citrus perfume of flowers in bloom.

  "Yes. If it's paid, and you agree to guard yourself from the agendas of others. Be wary of those with influence and the nobles who will undoubtedly court your power."

  Is that why he lives in such a modest dwelling? Because he's not a sellout?

  "And avoid leverage in the futures market at all costs. I was leveraged 50 gold for every silver the horse market traded at. At the time, horses and cattle were on a once in a lifetime bull run. Then Sentinel came out with a potent potion that doubled their reproductive cycles and greatly boosted fertility rates. The entire market crashed overnight and I lost everything."

  Holy shit. He's just a degenerate gambler.

  "It ended one famine and began another," he finished. "Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  I didn't.

  "Then you know where to find me. Maybe next time you'll tell me how you knew that dungeon would appear."

  ***

  We arrived back in Ingcaster at the Gilded Boar's stables by sunset. Jaxen Crowe had dismounted and left his horse with me, insisting I drop them both off and let the stable master know they belonged to Duskblade. When I told him I had no plans of going to the Gilded Boar, he flipped his lid, filling me in on certain adventuring related laws and protocols.

  Apparently, the law in Aclana required any newly discovered dungeon be reported to an adventurer’s guild or Royal Guard at first notice. Another protocol dictated that the dungeon key had to be surrendered to the Gilded Boar or the nearest adventurer's guild so a dungeon appraiser could assess its risk. After the assessment, the rights holder could sell the key or present their own raid plan, which then needed the guild's approval.

  There were another dozen or so bylaws, but they had gone in one ear and out the other.

  I dropped off the horses with the stable master, and told them they belonged to Deadly Talon. From there, I headed into the Gilded Boar and stood in line, torn hood pulled down. As I waited my turn, I heard mumbling through the tether.

  I closed my eyes and the voices sharpened, recognizing the voices were coming from the tether in Daven's mansion.

  "Help me set this madness in order, Norman. Where were you when elite guard squads one and two vanished along with Owen and Lord Murpharion?" a dry voice asked.

  "I was in the medical supply closet, treating an injury I sustained on the job."

  "This is what we've ascertained from last night. Kelfloss's emporium was hit again by the phantom. He is now missing and his warehouse is filled with bodies, including Toom's crew, the Herald of Chains, and several of our personal militia and contracted gangs. That's not counting over 50 of our elite forces who have gone missing. We know the Fated Twins abandoned their post with 20 percent of the staff. Of the 25 missing carriages, 13 have been recovered. There have been no sightings of the Fated Twins since they left the Regal District."

  "I swear I heard nothing. After drinking a health potion, I returned to my post and everyone was gone.”

  "Don't repeat yourself again. I've already made a note. Is this where the omen took place?"

  "The Fated Twins called it an omen. Lord Murpharion said the mage who imbued the lights made an error. I only saw the lights flicker."

  "I see."

  Suddenly, I had vision of Daven's dining room, spotting Norman the knife swallower, and two others I didn't recognize.

  Target: Jungu

  Level: 10

  Karma: -8,500

  Additional Data: Ex-R.I.G.I.D. Special Investigator. Released dishonorably for selling intelligence to rival nations. A rare battle mage, specializing in both magic and close quarters combat.

  Jungu loomed over Norman, his legs unnaturally long, nearly the length of his whole torso. His beady gaze pinned Norman in place, purposefully leaning into his personal space.

  "I swear to Galdir! That's all I know."

  "I believe you. But it will make Lord Eryndorf Murpharion feel better to have a pincushion."

  Jungu clapped his hands and a group of hired blades came bursting through the door and took Norman away as he screamed.

  "Very unpleasant," Jungu said.

  He retrieved a small comb from his breast pocket and straightened his hair, keeping every strand in line. He wore tailored trousers and a fitted coat with a crisp shirt underneath.

  "You're quite silent. What do you think?" Jungu asked, as I scanned the second target.

  Target: Gojuck

  Level: 11

  Karma: -4755

  Additional Data: N/A

  Not available?

  Besides the occasional monster, Xodoven was the only human that I'd seen the additional data blocked.

  "I wasn't certain until this moment. We are being watched. My null-scry ward just triggered," he said.

  Shit.

  "You jest. A remote soul scry? I don't sense any strange mana signatures nearby. Are you suggesting the mage is outside our range?" Jungu crouched and pressed a finger to his temple and closed his eyes. "Nope, I sense nothing. Soul scrying is a complex art, even when cast at arm’s length with an incantation.”

  "Cyprus? Are you sleepwalking?" Kora asked.

  "Meditation is the key to longevity," I said automatically.

  I opened my eyes and I was back at the Gilded Boar standing before Kora in front of the counter.

  Did my body move with the line on auto-pilot?

  Mind racing with questions of Void Seer's true capabilities, and wanting to tap back into the tether, I quickly presented the dungeon key and the redhead gasped.

  "Where's the dungeon located? Next time cut the line!"

  "Uh... I think the Okapi Woodlands?"

  "You think? The Okapi Woodlands, the Koapi Wilderness, or the Opiko Expanse? The accuracy of this information could mean the difference between life or death."

  "The dense forests southwest of Ingcaster," I said.

  "That's the Okapi Woodlands." Kora picked up a form and began filling it out. "Are you aware of when the dungeon appeared?"

  "Earlier today. I defeated the guardian shortly after."

  "By yourself?"

  "Duskblade and Deadly Talon witnessed it."

  "You should familiarize yourself with your geography,” she said as she filled out the form.

  "It's on my to-do list." I tapped my foot, anxious for her to wrap it up.

  She pointed at the bottom of the paper where there were two boxes. One for selling the key’s rights, and the other for the intention of submitting a raid plan.

  "I'm not selling the key."

  "Sign here, and here. Come back in three days and we'll have the appraiser's assessment. Cyprus, you should know every raid plan requires a minimum of three participants. If the dungeon is B grade or higher, you'll need five raiders." Kora stole a glance over her shoulder, then leaned over the counter and whispered. "Unless you want Eamon saddling you with his raid plan, you should start Anomaly's recruitment efforts."

  The voices in my head overlapped, activity coming from Kelfoss's warehouse, the cabal's base of operations, and Daven's mansion, all at once.

  "OK."

  "If you like, I could post a flier on the community board."

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, temple throbbing. "Great. Put on it that Anomaly will hold open interviews here tomorrow morning."