Power is paradoxical.

  - Friedrich Durrenmatt

  ******

  "Tremble mortals! The end of your puny lives is at hand!"

  "You have till mid-afternoon." Ysold paced back and forth in front of trainees, arms crossed behind her back and a sadistic gleam in her eye. "The dungeon's already been swept clean twice and the bosses were just cleansed again. Its spirit is on the verge of dispersing and all that's left is the rabble."

  "You are all so small and insignificant before the mighty dragon!"

  "This will be the easiest dungeon you will ever enter but make no mistake!" She stopped in front of Polo. The aspiring merchant flinched. "One wrong move, one misjudgment, and you will die!"

  "Bow! Plead! Beg!"

  "You won't be alone in there, so I don't want any of you starting anything." Ysold resumed her pacing, nodding toward the members of other training Halls, most of whom had already sent their trainees into the dungeon. Leaving the chaperones to watch the small show with grins. "Rules of the Wild apply. It doesn't matter who started shit. You get killed and it's your ass that's to blame."

  "Throw yourselves to the ground and I may have pity on your wretched selves! ...Unlikely though it may be."

  "These are ratmen." Ysold finally stopped, stepping away to address them in full. "They aren't worth the time or effort it would take to fight over them. They aren't even worth the clothes on your back! If any of you die, you're paying for the weapons, and you can kiss graduating goodbye. So, what are you gonna do?"

  ""Stay alive mam!""

  "Kill them all!"

  Neron answered in time with the other trainees as he continued to ignore Jorry's monologuing.

  "You better." Ysold gave a nod of acceptance. "Now get!"

  The handful of trainees hurried past Ysold to grab their weapons from the other instructors.

  "Thank you," Neron said, taking the reinforced rod from Clarence. Only a bit shorter than him, it was a thing of solid dark wood with metal caps on each end.

  "Good luck," the instructor said simply. Then winked and whispered in a lower tone. "Take your time. Don't worry about Furu. He can deal with things here."

  Neron carefully didn't look toward the old man already cursing up a storm from the disposal area.

  Other training Halls that weren't interested in the, frankly pathetic, materials that could be gathered from ratmen. They had decided a few coins from Ysold’s Hall were worth the effort of lugging the carcasses from the warren and there was already a small hill of bodies forming.

  It was starting to stink under the mid-morning sun.

  "Useless lazy bastards. Don't know how to deal with their own bodies. Oi! Watch where yer throwing things or I'll skin ya next."

  "Sorry!" The young woman who'd accidentally toppled a half dozen ratmen corpses with her delivery scurried back into the warren as the retired adventurer waived his skinning knife threateningly at her.

  "Fucking amateurs," Furu spat to the side, yet his hands never stopped moving, dismantling the stocky rat creatures with an ease that spoke of long practice. "A good adventurer is always careful with the loot."

  Usable materials were set aside and the rest got thrown towards the gathering of mounts, hounds, and familiars that loitered around the dungeon. Civilians might not like having animals around due to the risk they posed, but traveling the wilds was often considerably easier with a beast of burden. A leonine the size of a bear caught one carcass in its massive jaws, crunching down hard enough to snap bones like twigs while smaller animals scrambled for the scraps that fell from its mouth…

  …Of course, sometimes the adventurer became lunch for said beast, but that was neither here nor there. Besides, one death was enough to separate an animal from its companion, probably forever, so only those strong, confident, or wealthy enough really kept them around.

  "I will think about it," Neron said politically as Furu cast a gimlet eye toward a trainee from another hall dragging a ratman carcass along the ground.

  It wasn't like he was particularly looking forward to helping with that mess, but at the same time navigating tight tunnels looking for a fight wasn't his idea of a good time either. Better to meet his minimum requirements as soon as possible and return to help with corpse processing. At least that way he'd be able to further solidify his reputation at the Hall.

  It was possible he was the abnormal one here, he understood, but Neron simply lacked the almost fanatical desire many players had with increasing their levels.

  "Good luck," Clarence saw him off with a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

  Neron gave the man a smile and went towards Greck who was standing by the entrance, arms crossed and a rapier hanging from the orc's waist.

  "Here." With a delicacy that belied his size, the native reached up toward the crook that formed between his shoulders and head and removed Jorry from his perch.

  "Farewell, my steed," Jorry said somberly. "May your hunt be quick and violent."

  "Wanna go together?" Greck asked Neron, not hearing the tiny serpent's words. He did, however, give Jorry a small pet with a forefinger larger than the snake.

  "You can go ahead," Neron shook his head. "I need to talk to someone."

  Greck paused. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before looking down at the small snake Neron had placed on his shoulder and deciding to open his mouth.

  "Know why they delayed us?"

  "To make it harder," Neron answered easily. He'd done plenty of research before joining and their training Hall had a bit of a reputation.

  "Need to go deeper for prey,” the native rumbled out. “Might need to fight for it."

  "We will be alright," Neron reassured the other trainee. "You should not have any trouble, and we will know before anyone else gets close." Neron gestured at Jorry with a thumb and Greck nodded, accepting his explanation. Turning, the orc entered the darkened tunnel without another word.

  It wasn't like traveling in a group was a bad idea, per se. Polo and Fallon were working together, though Ingrid had left on her own. There was safety in numbers, after all. But Greck's large frame would be more of a demerit than a benefit in such tight confines, as would Neron's. They were more than likely to get in each other's way. Neron was above average, even for a Martian, which meant that he was only slightly shorter than the orc, even if he wasn't anywhere as wide.

  "You're going the wrong way," Jorry said as Neron headed back toward the gathering of chaperones.

  "It is fine. I need to talk to someone first. And the longer we take, the less of a chance of trouble."

  "If you say so," Jorry muttered petulantly. It was clear he was excited to 'kill them all,' as he'd put it.

  Neron wanted to point out that the snake was too small to kill anything but a passing beetle but decided against it. Better the serpent be willing rather than not.

  "Neron," Calvin greeted as the pair approached with a raised hand lazily as he sat with his feet up. "Good to see you. Need something?"

  "I should be asking that," Neron pointed out with a grin. "You look like I should be bringing you a drink."

  "I wouldn't say no to one," the branch manager grinned back. "Nearest thing to a vacation I'll get for the next month. Let the kiddies deal with a bunch of stinky rodents and damp caves. I'm gonna take a nap."

  "I take it you do not need me to check up on them?"

  "Thanks for offering, but they'll be fine. Nothing really dangerous down there."

  "You sure? My Hall is half convinced there is going to be a slaughter."

  "That's because Ysold's known for dealing in troublemakers. Your batch included. Last time they participated in a dungeon clear they flooded the hive they were exploring. Every one of hers survived but most of the others didn't. I'd bet gold that every other Hall has standing orders to cut you down if you get too close."

  "Good to know," Neron nodded amiably, letting a note of worry enter his voice.

  "Keep your distance and you'll be fine," Calvin sighed, taking the bait. "And if you do run into trouble, try and find my guys. Tell them I sent you."

  "Really? I appreciate the thought, but I do not want to get you into any trouble. I hear things are pretty wild right now."

  "It's because everyone's on edge that I don't think anyone will start anything," Calvin grinned, sitting up and leaning forward on his chair. "Everyone wants to look good for the bigwigs."

  "You included," Neron grinned teasingly.

  "Not much chance in that," Calvin shrugged, leaning back again and clearly trying to change the subject before Neron started down a subject he considered dangerous. "The boss has been held up in her mansion since she arrived. Only news out of her is our new flag. Seen it?"

  "I walked by the other day," Neron nodded, wondering what his sisters were up to with their little redesign. "What is that all about?"

  "Rebranding with the new city. It wasn't supposed to happen for another few weeks, but something must've happened to push it forward. Only a few of us have the updated badges." The player gestured toward his breast where a bronze coin was fastened, part of it covered in silver grave marker with a gold crown dangling from it. "It'll be a few months before all our guys get one since we just got the design yesterday."

  "And the Banker? No news?"

  "None," Calvin shrugged casually, completely unsurprised by his leader's reclusivity.

  Neron knew from speaking to his sisters that they had used extended periods of hermitage as an excuse many times. Both to conceal the fact that they were young enough to still need to attend class and for the added mystique.

  It helped that it wasn't rare for crafting Natures, like Octavia, to retreat for extended crafting sessions measuring days, or sometimes, weeks. But they shouldn't need to do so at the moment since it was the weekend. Maybe they were just keeping up a facade to keep a bit of private free time? That couldn't last too long, could it?

  While the average person wouldn't know what they looked like thanks to the privacy setting they'd been forced to use due to being minors, the city was now flooded with high level players. Most of whom would know what they looked like. Someone was bound to have seen them out and about with Neron the last few days.

  Catching his thoughts, Neron forcefully redirected his mind to get back on track. Even if it would take a while to break the habits he'd formed over the last few decades, he needed to remind himself that they were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

  They didn't need him looking out for them anymore.

  "I suppose we have no way of knowing what people like that are thinking," Neron said somewhat disingenuously, as if commiserating with the man. Then he returned to the reason he'd come over and let out a sigh. "I should get going. How will I recognize your team? Are they in uniform?"

  "They’re newbies," Calvin shook his head. "Too low level to get proper Bank uniform. Keep an eye out for a group of four. You'll know them by their team lead, Krill. He's the one who brought his AI partner with him."

  "...That is allowed?"

  "He dedicated his entire Nature to letting them -ehem- her in," Calvin corrected himself. "As far as anyone can tell, there are very few, if any, limits on what one's Nature can be."

  While there were still many debates on whether certain types of artificial intelligence were counted as people, most of which Neron believed to be entirely superfluous, if this one self-identified enough to have a gender, then it would fall under quite a few protection laws.

  The idea that this Krill not only had a PersonAI but managed to somehow get it to connect it to God's Nature and his own character had some... implications Neron would need to think more deeply about later.

  Still, nothing more than idle curiosity at the moment.

  More important was their potential use to Neron.

  "Thanks Calvin," Neron gave the man a smile. "I appreciate your help, though I hope I will not need it."

  "You probably won't," Calvin smiled back. Then he reached into a pouch at his hip and retrieved something that he threw at Neron. "Just in case."

  Neron examined the Corpse Tracker in his palm, looking nothing so much as a bronze coin with runes around its edges.

  "You know I do not have an account, right?"

  "I'll need it back before you leave tonight," Calvin nodded, then he shrugged with a grin. "Hope you won't need it."

  Pocketing the coin as his words were thrown back at him, Neron gave the man a final word of thanks before making his way toward the dungeon entrance.

  Set into one of the numerous hills that dotted the outskirts of Calderine, the original opening had been enlarged since its first discovery. Ratmen were shorter than the average height of the Blessed Races and the modifications others had made to the tunnel to allow for passage was apparent even to him.

  A good thing since Neron still hadn't learned Sculpt.

  "Finally," Jorry hissed out as they entered the tunnel, the mid-morning sun still providing enough illumination to see. At least for the moment. "We've wasted enough time. We should have spent it killing our prey."

  "Preparation time is never wasted," Neron denied, slowing slightly as he unfastened the fist sized lantern on his hip and holding it in front of him.

  "Preparation for what? These are rats! Bigger rats, but just rats! And they've already been killed a bunch of times!"

  Neron didn't answer right away, concentrating as he was on manipulating his Spirit and twisting it into an oblong shape along his left hand.

  It took half a minute, during which he barely advanced ten meters, but finally he had it ready and, with a mutter of 'Spark,' he severed the shape from the whole.

  A minuscule pinprick of red light glowed between his thumb and forefinger. Smaller than a candle flame, it gave off the faintest wisp of heat as Neron brought it toward the wick of the lantern, holding it in place long enough to ignite the tool.

  "Do not underestimate them." Separating his fingers to dispel the spark, Neron refastened the lantern to his side. "One of them is more than enough to kill you, or me if I am reckless. And this is their home. They will travel in packs."

  Jorry didn't really have human facial features to be able to frown but Neron had gotten a hang of his body language over the last few weeks together and could practically feel the discontent radiating from the tiny serpent.

  That was fine. Neron would just put it in terms the little snake would understand.

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  "Do you know the number one killer of dragons in stories?"

  "...Other dragons? Gods?"

  "Humans."

  "How?" The disbelief was plain to hear.

  "Because it does not matter how many humans the dragon kills. It just takes one lucky shot and that is the end of the dragon."

  "That just means they were weak enough that a human could kill them."

  "There's no such thing as a weak dragon.” By their nature as mythological figures and creatures, they automatically superseded the idea of ‘weakness.’ Society does not venerate the weak. “No, it is because they were arrogant. When the entire world is your prey, your food, you do not think of them as threats. So you are not careful... and you die. Beast, man, dragon. It does not matter. It is when you let down your guard that the blade slides between your scales and pierces your heart."

  "But they're dragons!"

  "No. They are just a lump of bloody meat. The same as everything they have ever killed."

  "Well... They will get revenge. And be more careful next time, right?"

  "What can be killed once, can be killed again. And again. And again."

  Jorry went quiet then, no doubt thinking of his own experience with the hawk.

  Time for the finishing blow.

  "A mighty dragon, reduced to prey to be forever hunted in an eternal cycle of rebirth and murder."

  The only sound was Neron's footsteps in the narrow confines of the tunnel as the flickering light of the lantern.

  It did not last.

  They heard the shuffling of feet, the clanging of metal and the low murmur of voices.

  The light of day was long gone by the time they reached one of the main rooms of the dungeon, their tight tunnel giving way to a large chamber carved into the rock and dirt illuminated by the lights of other delvers as they navigated to and from the various apertures in the walls, leading to more tunnels.

  The room itself bore the clear marks of being expanded by past delvers, using the Sculpt spell to increase its height, but it was already long and wide, dotted here and there by scars of past combat. Splotches of blood in the dirt. Holes carved by weapons along the walls and ceiling. A few pieces of flesh or fur pushed to the wall to not get in the way.

  Dismissing his Knowledge pop-up was easy and Neron sent his eyes flitting from one group to another, categorizing those present. There were only a handful of groups, and the rare solo delver, but there was already a discernible pattern.

  Those, like Neron, who carried lanterns and other sources of physical illumination were dressed in cheaper armor, if any, and moved with hesitant steps, peering cautiously into tunnels before entering. They also maintained as much distance between themselves and the other delvers as possible. This group contained most solo delvers.

  A step above were those whose hands radiated the light of a Shine spell. These were only slightly better armed and armored but they moved with a greater surety than the first group and did not hesitate to enter a new tunnel once they returned to the chamber.

  The final category was made up of one party alone, set up near the center of the chamber with a small pile of ratmen corpses.

  Well-armed and armored, it was clear that their equipment was a step above everyone else. As was their confidence as they seemed perfectly relaxed even amidst hostile territory. They were the major source of illumination in the room, each one of them with a floating ball of light hovering above their head or shoulders.

  It was a degree of control of the Shine spell that really shouldn't be present in such a low-level dungeon, filled as it was with new players and natives getting their first taste of combat. Nobody looked like they were complaining, even if the small party of three was given a wide berth, simply appreciating being able to see again without straining their eyes too much.

  Which was the point, Neron realized as he watched a fourth member of the party emerge from one of the tunnels dragging two corpses behind her. She lugged them toward her comrades, and dumped them on the pile. She exchanged a few words with the others and a different party member split off to enter a tunnel on the far side, leaving the other three behind.

  They were making a statement as much as they were actually participating in this dungeon clearing. One of both power and benevolence.

  Putting a slightly nervous smile on his face, rounding his shoulders, and shuffling his feet, Neron approached one of the men in the central group.

  "Krill?"

  He let a touch of uncertainty enter his voice as the group looked him over. They didn’t get tense, but it was clear his approach had taken them by surprise. They weren't the only ones, as a few other people looked his way as he broke the unspoken boundary that separated the Bank's players from everyone else.

  "Yes?" Krill asked curiously, furrowing his brow slightly as he looked Neron over in the light cast by his and his teammates' spells.

  It was clear he was trying to place Neron, wondering if they had met before and he had forgotten.

  Thankfully the floating screen that hovered over his left shoulder, opposite his Shine spell, came to his aid.

  "Greetings," the woman on the screen said simply. "You are one of the trainees at Ysold's Hall, are you not? What can we help you with?"

  Letting his smile turn a bit sheepish, Neron shrugged.

  "Sorry for interrupting if you are busy. My name is Neron. Calvin told me to seek you out." That got their attention, as he figured it would. Krill stood up straighter, and his colleagues approached closer. "I am sorry I did not get everyone's names though."

  "Oh, we're not busy at all." The woman who'd just returned answered with a friendly smile. "I'm Eclair."

  No doubt they weren’t. Even if they were low leveled enough to gain something from this dungeon, their mastery of one of the basic spells spoke of an experience in God’s Nature that was well beyond anything this place could throw at them. There was no way a ratmen dungeon would keep them engaged enough to ignore an opportunity to please one of the Bank’s branch managers.

  "Tinder." The stocky fellow in robes answered in kind with a nod.

  "You know I'm Krill and this is my wife Karn. You just missed Milli, our other party member, but they'll be back soon," Krill introduced, holding his hand out for Neron to shake, his eyes flitting over to Jorry before returning to Neron's. "Did Calvin call for us?"

  "Oh no no," Neron hurried to shake his head, as if nervousness from the question, and the attention. "He just told me to ask you for help if I needed it. And... Well..." Neron hesitated, as if unsure if he should speak.

  "Go on," Eclair grinned up at him playfully. "We don't bite... much."

  Neron did not have such a convenient ability as to flush on command, but he could fake it well enough by looking down and to the side.

  "Don't worry," Krill reassured, shooting a look at his companion in warning. Her grin turned into an innocent smile as if to say 'Who? Me?' "We'll be happy to help however we can."

  "I do not want to be a bother," Neron said softly, then drew a deep breath to give the impression he was steeling himself for something difficult. "It is just... I have never done this and... And I just wanted to ask how I should go about it? I mean, I think I can fight one ratman but..." Neron cast a nervous glance at the pile of bodies they were standing beside. "I do not think I can fight that many. I was just hoping that you could, you know... Point me in the right direction?"

  "Oh, we couldn't either," Krill grinned, reassuring the taller man that he wasn't inconveniencing them at all. "These are just stragglers we've picked off. If you just want directions though, that's not a problem at all. Karn?"

  "Should you proceed down the third tunnel to your left, you will reach an intersection in under five minutes. If you take the left path, you will reach a nest which contained three dozen ratmen during the last cycle. Take a right at the intersection and you will be in a passage that only connects to other tunnels. Stragglers are likely to wander those in packs of ones and twos. Only three people have headed that way so far, for fear of the nest."

  "Really?" Neron asked, letting his shoulders sag in apparent relief. "I was worried I had missed my chance."

  "Nah," Eclair pat Neron in the middle of his back, the highest she could reach without stretching her hands over her head. He pretended he didn't notice the way her hand lingered. "Since the boss got killed they're all operating on instinct. Some of them group up, others go a-wandering. Looking for food or a fight. The dungeon's barely holding them in. Once we kill 'em this time, they'll re-spawn miles away."

  If her height wasn't a clear sign of her being an earthling, her use of the anachronistic unit of measurement was proof enough. Neron doubted his sisters would even recognize the word... Though that might be untrue, seeing as they were running a business with thousands of employees from both planets.

  They didn't need him to explain things to them anymore.

  "If you'd like, you can join one of us?" Krill suggested. "We've been taking turns hunting to get some practice before we tackle the nests."

  While Neron was certain that was true, he was also clear that said delay also let them advertise for the Bank while also gaining experience from smaller ratmen groups without appearing to hog the experience, safe in the knowledge that they were one of the few groups who could safely tackle the nest rooms. The dungeon had already been looted during its first clearing, any missed valuables picked up during the second, and the boss having been killed to start this final purge. There was no reason to rush now.

  Whether this was a plot this group of initiates had come up with or a plan from their superiors was largely immaterial as far as Neron was concerned. It at least showed that some of the lower ranks of the Bank had some competence, which was a good thing as far as he was concerned.

  "I would hate to be a bother," Neron shook his head and when, as expected, Krill went to argue that he wouldn't be, Neron continued. "No. I need to learn to do things on my own." Then, as if realizing he'd been rude, Neron gave the most genuine smile he could fake. Which was a pretty good one, if he said so himself. "Still... Thank you. I really appreciate the directions and the offer."

  "...It's no trouble," Eclair muttered softly, looking away as she took a step back.

  "Maybe not to you, but to me it means a lot." Neron held his gaze on the woman long enough for their eyes to meet again and she quickly looked away. His gaze returned to Krill's, holding his hand out to shake. "Really. Hopefully I can pay you back someday."

  "Any friend of Calvin is a friend of ours," Krill answered with an easy smile, shaking hands.

  "Good luck," Tinder said with a simple nod, which Neron returned.

  Jorry waited exactly ten seconds after they had entered the designated tunnel before he could contain himself no more.

  "What was that?!" The tiny serpent demanded. For a moment, Neron was reminded of his run in with the Viscount Hardinee and Medea’s response.

  Then the snake smacked his tail into Neron's neck to emphasize his displeasure.

  "What do you mean?" Neron asked, long having let the smile fall and straightening his shoulders. "You have seen me do that before."

  "You're nice to people. Too nice sometimes," Jorry agreed with a reluctant grumble but didn't let it distract him. "But you get something out of it, so it’s fine. But that? What was the point of acting so pathetic? And you put yourself in their debt for nothing!"

  "Is that what you think just happened?" Neron asked, amused.

  "And," Jorry continued, having built up a head of steam and not letting it go. "What happens when they talk to that Calvin guy? You act completely differently with him! They’ll catch on!"

  "Not particularly," Neron answered casually. "I first approached him in the same manner then relaxed the tension and nervousness. Most people do not act the same way with people they just met as with people they consider close to. This way, when I start joking and teasing, it makes them feel like I am treating them like a friend. Makes them feel closer to me."

  He'd initially approached Calvin like that because he'd noticed that the man oversaw the recruitment center the Bank kept open at the Grand Sanctuary. Why waste time being one of countless faceless recruits or clients when you can start interacting with the boss right away? By not actually setting up an account he'd kept Calvin on the hook long enough to strike a rapport.

  It had even paid off in an unexpected way once he'd deduced his sisters' position in the organization, allowing him to get a finger on the pulse of what they were thought of from the ground level. It was why he hadn't revealed his relation to them.

  Nobody was going to tell him the truth when they were afraid he’d report it to their boss’s boss.

  "Still! That was just pathetic!"

  Neron thought of how best to explain his actions to the prideful snake for a moment before settling on a path.

  "You have to understand that humans are not creatures of logic. Nothing is, really, but humans are more vulnerable to their emotions precisely because they think they are different from other animals. I am not an exception to this, of course, but I know how to draw certain reactions out of people by making them think they are acting in their own interest."

  "But you didn't need to," Jorry stressed. "You could have just told them their boss told them to help us. Or! Get your sisters to tell them to give you whatever you want!"

  "I could do that," Neron admitted easily. "The end result might even be the same: we get help finding our target and have backup in case something happens. But first impressions count for a lot. By acting as I did, I flattered them without using flattery. By lowering my position in relation to them, I was treating them as my 'superiors,' which makes them feel good about me. Later I can reverse that relationship if I need to, but this first good impression will hold for a long time."

  Neron had been more worried about having back up than setting up a relationship. He wasn't afraid of one ratman, but Ysold had been clear that the Rule of the Wild applied to this dungeon.

  But when he'd seen the group and their situation, he'd taken the opportunity presented.

  In a dungeon there was no law to protect him and no punishment for those who'd do him harm. Taking precautions was just good sense.

  "But what about next time?"

  "Next time?" The unexpected suggestion drew Jorry up short.

  "When you want to use something, a tool or a person, you need to decide whether you need to use it once or multiple times. Shortsighted idiots will throw away something once they have used it once, or it breaks, irrespective of future use. The indecisive will try and hoard everything in case it is useful. So, I set things up so that I can do either."

  "What do you mean?" Jorry asked, calming down slightly.

  "Right now, I have the strongest party in this dungeon looking out for me, and everybody in that cavern saw it. In the future, I can approach any one of them on the excuse of 'repaying the favor.' If they do not have anything for me to repay them with, then it is just a way to get closer."

  "But what if they do?"

  "Remember," Neron responded as they reached the mentioned intersection and took a right. "It should be a favor proportional to giving me directions, which is so minor it will not be a problem. If they try and get something greater out of me, which is unlikely because they are aware of my relationship with their boss, then I can either use my new player status as a reason I can not accomplish it or cut ties with them."

  "So, by acting weak and asking for a favor you've given up nothing and gotten what you wanted from them?"

  "Exactly," Neron nodded. "We can-"

  Neron paused as he saw light further down the tunnel. Judging by the whiteness of the light and its steadiness, it was someone with the Shine spell rather than a fire like him. It was getting brighter and there was no way they wouldn't meet in the tunnel.

  Neron made a split-second decision. Turning, he leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms as he rested his reinforced staff against his shoulder.

  When the delvers were in view, a male elf and dwarven woman dragging a ratman carcass with one hand, each with a glowing palm, they saw Neron leaning against the wall with careful apathy, serpent tongue flickering in and out to cast shadows in the twisting light of his lantern.

  Nobody said anything as the pair approached, and Neron did not make a move as they drew closer. The dwarf's short-sword remained holstered, but the elf's war-axe was kept ready as the pair stepped closer.

  Neron gave the pair a casual nod of acknowledgement, but Jorry kept his gaze on the dwarf as she passed by, close enough to brush Neron's legs due to the tight confines of the tunnel. The elf returned the nod but kept watch out of the side of his eye as he passed, hands tight along his weapon's haft.

  The pair's speed picked up as soon as they passed.

  Once the light of their spells had disappeared once more, Neron restarted his journey deeper into the dungeon.

  "First impressions, right?" Jorry's tone made it clear he wasn't really asking.

  "Yes," Neron answered as they came to another split. The fresh blood in the dirt made it clear which way the pair from before had come from and they took the other path. "I acted strong because we are weak-"

  "No, we're not."

  "We are," Neron answered plainly to the snake's protestation. "You are not a dragon yet and I am just a guy who understands people. I have some practice fighting thanks to the training Hall, but that is all the fighting experience I have. A few weeks of training does not make me good in a fight."

  Neron slowed his steps as his lantern picked up a shadow on the ground. When it didn't move in response to their approach, he drew closer.

  It was another corpse of a ratman, this one left to rot in the tunnel. Giving it a light kick, Neron grimaced as it rolled over. Its arms were heavily lacerated, as was its chest. Judging by the lack of blood flow and matting, it had been dead for a while.

  Pursing his lips, Neron turned around.

  While the wounds inflicted indicated an amateurish ability in combat, unsurprising considering this was probably the first dungeon for most people here, the fact that it was left meant that whoever had killed it had decided to move deeper rather than bring the body back. Probably somebody impatient to get as much experience as possible, which meant they were probably further down the tunnels, searching for more prey.

  Neron had a better chance of finding suitable prey down the tunnel the pair they'd passed had vacated. Pointing this out to Jorry, he built on what he'd been explaining before.

  "We are weak enough that we have to choose our battles carefully, even against being like ratmen." Neron could tell his words were rubbing the tiny serpent's scales the wrong way but there was nothing he could do about it.

  Facts were facts and didn't change just because you didn't like them.

  "Then we should focus on getting stronger!"

  "We are," Neron answered bluntly. "But until we are the strong, we must fight like the weak. And the weak fight through information, cooperation, and trickery. We avoid the strong while we can and pull them down to our level when we can not."

  Time and time again in history, it was not the strongest nation or mightiest peoples that ended up on top.

  It was the ones who survived the longest, who made the most of their alliances and advantages, that became the strongest.

  Rome and Carthage. The Jin Dynasty instead of Shu, Wei, or Wu. The Russo-Japanese war. Napoleon. The Greco-Persian campaigns.

  Even if one ignored wars specifically and just focused on the survival of a people and culture, then there were plenty of examples as well. Long after Latin had become a dead language and Rome little more than a tourist trap, Gaelic was still an active language because the Gaelic people survived.

  "So long as we are getting stronger," Jorry grumbled in resignation. "I won't evolve into a dragon if you keep trying to wiggle your way out of every challenge."

  It was a curious thing, Neron noted, this mentality of 'getting stronger' or 'advancement'. Maybe it was one of those 'gamer' things he didn't fully understand.

  It seemed like that all people cared about was their next level, Step, or evolution. A by-product of a world with levels and experience, most likely. Guilds were formed to monopolize opportunities for advancement. Cooperation for the purpose of growth. Not in numbers, or in material wealth, but in personal ability. Yet, by its very nature, this notion of ‘level-up’ was self-defeating.

  You die to get stronger so you don’t die. But, once you are stronger, you search out stronger foes to get stronger yet again, dying more and more in a never-ending loop.

  And at the end? Either the number keeps going up infinitely, in which case there is no point.

  Or, worse, there is a cap. A limit of personal strength, just like in the real world. If there was such a ‘level-cap,’ then others will also reach it and your comparative strength will have hardly changed.

  If, after Neron was long gone, Jorry fulfilled his wish, all he’d be is ‘another’ dragon.

  If everyone was special, everyone the ‘strongest,’ then nobody was.

  It was folly. Pointless madness from any objective point of view.

  …Then again, life had never been anything but mad scrambling in the dark.

  Maybe God’s Nature had just codified and quantified the madness.

  The Bank's entire business model would fall apart if people stopped throwing their lives away in the hope of growing stronger. But that would never happen because death was not final.

  An incestuous orgy of killing and dying.

  Pain was transient. Death was cheap.

  Power was a currency bought in bodies and suffering.

  And everybody wanted to be rich.

  …In the end, it was no different from the world outside the game.

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