The abbey needed a little bit of time to recharge after the excitement of the last few days. The kids were restless and the brothers and sisters were visibly overwhelmed.

  It was good timing for a break, since Ellesea had to go back to Horizon for her classes.

  In all the madness, Melia forgot entirely that the [Mage] was only 19, barely college age for her last world, and in the middle of learning to specialize in the arcane.

  The rest of the team always escorted her back to Horizon when they were out adventuring together, and Melia was now a part of that. Besides, she needed to stop by the bank and see if her old stash of junk was still around.

  If it was, it made a lot of her plans a whole lot easier.

  The group was planning to take a shared bus to Hammerfall and see about taking on an escort quest to Horizon in order to save on cost. Melia convinced them to let her pay for a direct shot straight to the capital instead. This way was faster and private, after the last squashed trip in public transport, Melia needed a break.

  Jessica took it upon herself to instruct Melia that, as a dragon, she was supposed to be more stingy with her wealth. Not that the group wasn’t grateful once she pointed out that a mere handful of silver for the private carriage wouldn’t break her, despite it costing more than triple what the other option would have.

  And once they were settled and comfortably embarked on the 4 hour journey, the privacy Melia bought them was put to good use.

  Melia noticed a shift in the atmosphere nearly the second the group adopted a somber, curious air.

  “So,” Jessica began as the spokesperson, “We all got titles.”

  “Congratulations!” Melia clapped excitedly. The fact that she had dozens of titles would be mind boggling to a native of this world and was most definitely not the norm. Titles were generally reminders and proof of something significant.

  Like killing a mighty foe, mastering a field or profession, or something else the system declared worthy of decree.

  “I dunno,” Jessica shook her head. “I don’t know how it was in your time, but I’ve always heard getting a title means you’ve really seen some shit. And I guess in a way, we have, but it doesn’t really feel like I’ve done anything to deserve it.”

  “On top of that, I don’t actually know what it says,” Ellesea added.

  “Really?” Melia asked. Maybe it was a perk of transmigrating into the game world, maybe it was because she was a dragon, or possibly because she read every book the game offered hidden in libraries, dungeons, and random offices or rooms, but Melia had a full catalogue of linguistic abilities. She had yet to find a word she could not read, and that included things that weren’t ever meant to be real words, such as the ancient arcane language that created spells.

  “Here, it might be easiest to show you,” Jessica sighed. Melia watched in fascination as Jessica maneuvered her fingers in the air and part of her system screen came up. Melia made a mental note to try and practice that: she hadn’t known that was possible.

  For the time being, she stared at the screen as it resolved into the familiar display, only showing the single title Jessica willed it to.

  [Diamond in the Rough]

  A cherished, untapped treasure of a terrifying beast claimed for her own. Woe be unto those who try and separate a dragon from her hoard, even death itself.

  Melia thought it was a gag or a joke until she realized that the system didn’t do pranks. It had its own sense of humor, yes, but it always meant what it said and said what it meant to say. The fact that the entire description was written in gnomish was particularly damning.

  Melia stared at the screen, a wave of melancholy guilt washing over her as she realized this was also her fault. If it weren’t for her, the young group of adventurers would never have titles like this. The system would never have labeled them as treasure if they simply never met the strange dragon, who was starting to understand that being a dragon was more than having scales and breathing fire, and she didn’t have the first clue of what it actually meant.

  “At least it can’t be bad, can it?” Y’cennia asked. “‘Diamond in the Rough’,” she repeated, looking at her own screen. “That’s a saying that means something has a lot of hidden potential, right? That’s good!”

  “But why would the system single us out as having a lot of potential?” Ellesea wondered. “Surely other groups are far better than us.”

  “It pains me to agree to that,” said Alastair, “But she’s right. Of all of us, Ellesea is the most talented, naturally gifted or otherwise. I’m not just saying that to brag about our teammate either. It’s important for adventurers to know their limits, not overestimate themselves. We have a better work ethic than some, put in more hard effort than others, but none of us, not even Ellesea, are geniuses or savants.”

  “Ah, I can explain,” Melia eventually said in a small voice, feeling exactly as small as she sounded. It felt…bad, being so powerful she effectively influenced an almighty system to potentially fundamentally alter the course of four young people’s lives simply because she got attached to them. At least she now knew why her treasure senses were going off, though the moment she thought of these fine people as “her hoard” she instantly hated herself. She never wanted to objectify anybody, especially people she called friends.

  Melia went on to explain the curious sensation she had the morning several days prior, when she woke up on the roof of the inn in Hammerfall because her team was feeling anxious.

  How she didn’t understand at first exactly what it meant, but her gut was focused on how something very valuable to her was…off. And it only resolved itself when she walked into the inn and saw her team.

  Emphasis on her team.

  As in possessive.

  This team, deep down subconsciously where Melia didn’t want to or couldn’t admit it, belonged to her, she wasn’t simply a part of it.

  The feeling went away almost instantly once everybody started moving forward with the day, heading to the guild, backtracking to Abbyton, and getting ready to slay the dragon.

  All of that, even the traumatic, anticlimactic ending of it all, didn’t trigger Melia’s hoard-sense.

  Until that night at the party when her teammates, her treasures, were attacked. Y’cennia had a very complicated look on her face as she seemingly connected the dots. As an [Alchemist], she had a slightly higher resistance to most poisons than the rest of her team, which allowed her to stay a bit more coherent afterwards, which gave her the beginning of the revelation that Melia knew something was wrong with them before they did.

  They sat in silence as the carriage rocked, bouncing every now and then against the uneven packed dirt road.

  “I’ll admit that’s disturbing,” Jessica said at last, frowning. “But what does that have to do with our titles?”

  Though she was the one to ask the question, Jessica herself looked like she already accepted the answer as truth. Partially at least, because she didn’t look like she wanted to believe it, giving her a pinched, sour expression.

  “Do you really want to know what your title says?” Melia asked.

  “You can read it?”

  “Yes. It's gnomish.”

  Jessica’s look turned to indignation.

  “Why is it in gnomish?! It’s my title! I don’t speak gnomish! I can’t read it!”

  “Well I can,” Melia shook her head. “It says: you are a cherished, untapped treasure of a terrifying beast who has claimed you for her own. Woe be unto those who try and separate a dragon from her hoard, even death itself.”

  Jessica’s mouth slowly fell open. She looked torn between disbelief and disgust. Ellesea and Alastair looked thoughtful, but Y’cennia, strangely, looked somewhat happy.

  “What?” she asked as the others gave her strange looks. “I am cherished,” she stared as if fact. Indeed in some ways it was, with the system telling them so. “I am an untapped treasure.”

  “Only because you’ve never had a boyfriend,” Jessica muttered, at which point Ellesea smacked her over the head with her staff. Hard.

  “So…you…,” Alastair began.

  “Are a dragon.”

  “And…we…?”

  “Are…my hoard,” Melia grimaced. It sounded extremely cringy when she said it out loud, even more than it sounded silently in her head.

  “You’re telling me that you’re responsible for the system giving us titles?” Jessica asked weakly. She, more than anybody else, seemed determined to remain unconvinced. To her credit, the system was a mysterious entity that was a part of every single living thing in the world, and it had power over things that weren’t living, too. If anything, the system affected people, not the other way around.

  Melia knew there was no convincing some people if they were determined to remain ignorant. Without reverting to her true form and risk destroying the fragile relationship they’d cultivated so far, at any rate.

  Several more miles passed under them with little conversation other than Alastair occasionally asking, “So you’re really a dragon, then?”, and Melia replying, “Uh huh.”

  The group seemed to be digesting it well. They only occasionally glanced at Melia with a tilted head, as if looking at something strange or foreign. But it was only when Jessica spoke up with conviction that Melia’s smile truly returned.

  “So what do we call ourselves?” she asked out of the blue. Alastair had gone back to reading his journal and Ellesea and Y’cennia were quietly discussing potions. Everybody turned to look at her and she let out a tremendous sigh, waving her hands resignedly at Melia.

  “We’re a team. Now with all of this…dragon stuff, that’s more obvious than ever. We never made a name for ourselves. Not that we really needed one before, but now we sure as hell do.”

  Melia nodded along easily enough, curious what they would come up with. She settled back against the cushioned seating, laughably naive in her thinking that this discussion didn’t include her.

  “I vote for Melia’s Misfits.”

  Melia spluttered as her eyes shot open. She noticed Jessica grinning and glancing at her out of the corner of her eye. She most likely brought it up to goad her.

  “No,” Melia instantly denied. “I refuse.”

  “You gotta admit that you’ve tied us all together,” she grinned down at Melia, who rolled her eyes. She could tell the girl was joking and wasn’t actually considering that as a team name, so she responded in kind.

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

  “If you’re going down that route, why not call yourselves ‘Oblivious Harem Protagonist’?”

  It took various lengths of time for the girls to parse Melia’s words, each of them reacting slightly differently, but mostly growing a little pink.

  “What?” Melia tried acting dumb. “You’ve got Alastair,” who alone of the group looked like he really didn’t understand why the name was suggested at all. “He’s the only guy in a group of 4 ladies. Each one with a different, sometimes exotic-“

  “Okay, okay!” Jessica laughed, clamping her hand over Melia’s mouth as Ellesea looked like she was about to boil. Alastair himself looked shocked, as if this was the first time he ever realized he was alone with an entire group of women. “We get it. It’s a good thing Al’s a [Paladin]. Denied. Next?”

  It quickly became obvious that the party name had been left undecided for so long for good reason.

  None of them were good at naming things.

  Jessica’s suggestions were either crass or some sort of inside joke.

  Alastair’s were all pithy and heroic and made Melia feel like she gained 10 pounds from how heavy they all felt.

  Ellesea’s, suitably, all sounded academic. One of them was this world’s equivalent of ancient Latin for Remembering Priorities. While Vexus Hesitatia did have a certain ring to it, nobody but sweaty nerds or Melia would understand what it meant, and most people would probably think the party was trying to cast a spell on them.

  Y’cennia’s first suggestion fell flat too. Melia’s gifted scale had obviously impacted the girl, but she didn’t realize it was so fully consuming. Obsidian Shield did have a nice ring to it…if not for the fact that only Alastair used a shield, which was made of iron and painted white and blue, not black, making the name rather detached.

  The naming game did serve as an adequate distraction to the heavy mood inside the carriage, the gloom from earlier entirely dispelled. Jessica and Y’cennia laughed openly at many suggestions while Ellesea and Alastair tried particularly hard to take it seriously. Over an hour passed and they were no closer to settling on a name than they were for the few years prior, so discussion slowly died down as suggestions got thrown out less and less. Eventually silence returned, but the air was peaceful and smiles were worn all around.

  Melia’s restlessness eventually got the better of her. She noticed Alastair staring blankly out the window and decided to ask a question that had been on her mind for a while now.

  “Aren’t you guys a little high level for this area?” Melia asked. “I would have thought you’d have moved on by now.”

  Melia’s assumption, as with most things, was based on a comparison to the game world. The Gold Coast zone in the game was good for beginning players up until they reached about level 20, at which point all the quests and monsters would be too low level and either stop giving good xp, or else the rewards simply wouldn’t be worth it. There was a dungeon to the south, in a small town called Sickledrop. It butted up against some hills at the edge of the zone and bordered the coast, next to a lighthouse. In the game, it wasn’t anything special, just a few more houses, farms, and other generic buildings, and Melia was curious to see how it translated over into real life.

  How did this world treat dungeons? Would it be a huge, thriving town centered on a dungeon economy? Would it be more like a stronghold keeping things in? Or out? Monsters couldn’t leave dungeons in the game, but Melia didn’t know if they worked the same way in real life.

  Also, the dungeon was still high enough level that it would be worth running for this group. Meant for levels 18-22, even Ellesea might benefit from a few drops, depending on her current gear. Melia had subtly inspected it several times, and it was decent, quality stuff, but nothing outstanding. The staff from the dungeon in particular was best in slot for low level casters for quite a little while, at least until the mid 30s. If they weren’t lucky with drops, didn’t know a crafter, or couldn’t afford to buy something off the auction house, it wasn’t uncommon to see magic users carry that staff all the way to 40, where the next major upgrade could be farmed from a different dungeon.

  “There’s reasons to stick around,” Alastair answered, causing Melia to jolt. She almost forgot that she asked a question. Alastair, as ever, was patient. “But you’re right. It’s probably past time that we moved to Lakeridge.”

  Melia nodded along, silently noting that the progression to Lakeridge was the same she would have taken in the game. The zone was, perhaps obviously, centered around a massive lake. It filled the majority of a valley between two mountain ranges, cutting off the Ashlands to the north and parts of the arid, desert-like region to the south that eventually led to the beastkin lands. In game, Lakeridge was a town built partially onto the water, where lore stated they would be safe in the case of dragon attacks, since they could be easily doused in water and it would be much harder for a dragon to land.

  Personally, Melia thought that if she was attacking a town in the lake, she might as well just land in the lake itself and swim or wade up to the town; sit on the town and destroy it; or else just keep breathing fire until the water they soaked it with evaporated and turned to steam. Though she did admit those might not be options for the average dragon. She didn’t even know if they knew how to swim.

  “Have you hit up the dungeon yet?” Melia asked absently, again turning to Ellesea. She cast [Identify] and once again looked over the green quality piece of wood.

  [Adept’s Staff of Intelligence]

  Level: 275

  Quality: 4 stars

  Intelligence: 48

  Wisdom: 12

  Made by: Roark Verner

  All things considered, it was a decent staff, but the [Gemlock Staff] from [Astoria Boondocks] would be so much better. First off, it was a blue, a whole tier of rarity better, and it had the stats to match. Despite being a level 18 weapon, it had more than double what Ellesea’s current stick had, if Melia remembered correctly. Though that was when the world was a game. Now it would be level 180, wouldn’t it?

  “Dungeon?”

  “Hmm?” Melia asked. She spaced out again, thinking. She noticed everybody in the carriage was looking at her intently.

  “I said, what dungeon?” Alastair patiently repeated. “There’s no dungeon in Hammerfall. Plenty of quests to remove monsters from the Gold Coast mines, which we recently took a few weeks before the Fire Festival. It’s part of the reason we’ve been here so long, and also why we had the coin to stay at a nice inn. Sometimes it’s nice to splurge.”

  “What good is coin if you don’t use it, right?” Jessica asked, but Ellesea looked conflicted. As a noble, her sensibilities were different from commoners.

  “[Astoria Boondocks],” Melia simply started. It was famous in the game, being the first dungeon most human players entered. She didn’t think she needed to elaborate.

  The group shared a look and it soon became apparent she was wrong.

  “It’s in the south?” Melia added. “By the coast?”

  She was met mostly with confusion and blank looks. Jessica was the one to explain.

  “Melia, there’s no dungeon in Gold Coast.”

  “Well, the entrance was actually inside of Sickledrop,” Melia quickly added. “At least it used to be. Is Sickledrop still around?”

  “That sleepy little town?” Jessica asked, raising an eyebrow. “Girl, if they had a dungeon there, I think they’d have more things passing through than tumbleweeds.”

  “Oh,” Melia slumped. “So I guess you haven’t been there yet.”

  “What was it called?” Ellesea asked. She had an academic interest in dungeons, though she had never set foot into one. She had spent more than her fair share of time researching them for her team’s inevitable foray into the depths. The closest dungeons to Horizon she knew of were scattered around the Ashlands, ranging from level 450 to 600. Far above their means.

  “[Astoria Boondocks],” Melia repeated.

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Ellesea said. She’d have to go digging a little deeper into the library, perhaps it was known by a different name? Or else maybe it closed down somehow, though she could only think of a handful of cases where the gods closed a dungeon, and they were all very famous.

  “That’s because it doesn’t exist,” Jessica snorted, peering out the window.

  “Just like I’m not a dragon?” Melia asked.

  Jessica opened her mouth…but paused. She turned away from the window, staring at the gnome, and the argument died on her lips. Eventually she shut her mouth silently. It was possible, just possible, the overpowered tiny gnome might be telling the truth and she might actually be a dragon. A slim one, yes, but it was there. Could there be a dungeon? In Sickledrop?

  Somehow it seemed more plausible than a dragon masquerading as a gnome.

  “What’s it like?” Alastair asked.

  “Oh, it’s a good one,” Melia visibly brightened. Not just her, but most players had a very good opinion of the “first” dungeon (even though there were technically two lower level dungeons across the map). “It has a good mix of traps, enemies, and ambiance. Really gives you a feeling of adventure. The entrance was actually hidden in this old abandoned restaurant or schoolhouse or something in like the basement? Which was hidden under a fireplace? Which led into this tunnel system under the town, which was partially an abandoned mineshaft, but it also had some of the town’s sewer, and also a wishing well, and there were puzzles, and riddles, and old piratey maps, and like it was really cool. After a few mazes, where dead ends were maybe a bit literal, with crushing traps and pitfall traps, there was this big old oak door you had to blast with a cannon or use a [Rogue] to lock pick, which led to an underground lagoon of undead pirates haunting their ancient looking ship, which had somehow remained moored there, and there was boss fights and treasure, and all sorts of cool stuff!”

  Melia breathlessly ran herself out of words and the others…blinked.

  “…we’re talking about a dungeon, yeah?” Jessica asked, looking genuinely perplexed. “Not a storybook for kids?”

  Melia tilted her head. Now that she thought about it, she felt a little silly. To her, dungeons were fun romps through mini-storylines, designed to give the player a fun, immersive challenge that made them feel like part of the world.

  For people already a part of the world, dungeons must represent something else entirely, struggling for their lives against formidable, powerful foes.

  And to top it off, [Astoria Boondocks] was very clear where the devs took inspiration from. It was in the name. Astoria was a town in Oregon where a very popular classic movie had been filmed, and the lighthearted, low stakes adventure theme was present throughout the dungeon. For the first three quarters of the dungeon, the only dangers were giant rats, spiders, and bats. Hard hitting for their level but with few skills and a basic intelligence. More could be said about the traps and pitfalls in the dungeon than the early enemies. Specifically, [AB] was designed to introduce players to the idea of dungeons. It was meant to be challenging, but not a challenge. First time players could expect to die one or two times as they learned the ropes, got used to harder, more difficult elite enemies, but never got hard enough to give up or despair. An experienced player only a level or two above the suggested range could clear most of it solo.

  In this world? Melia guessed nobody would willingly solo a dungeon, not even high level people, because the risk would not be worth the minimal reward.

  “Yes, it is a dungeon,” Melia eventually said. “Though I must admit I probably have a very different idea of what a dungeon is than you do.” She paused. “How do dungeons work?”

  “Seriously?” Jessica scoffed. “Haven’t you run them?”

  “Yes, but that was a very long time ago. I never thought about them like that at the time.”

  “Are we talking academically?” Ellesea asked. “Or more functionally?”

  “I guess functionally?” Melia shrugged. “Do you still need to be in a party together to enter the same instance?”

  “Ah,” Ellesea nodded, “Yes, you do.”

  “What about if you die while inside?”

  The group stirred, growing a touch paler.

  “Have you…not been inside a dungeon?”

  “Not yet,” Alastair admitted. “We didn’t think it was wise with only four members, one of which isn’t a combat class.”

  “Makes sense,” Melia agreed.

  “But to answer the question…if the goddess Chaos is willing, you will revive at the nearest chapel,” was all Alastair had to say about that.

  Melia could understand the reluctance to delve too deeply into a place where real danger lurked, leading to real pain, real injury, and the very real chance of death. And with how uncertain Alastair sounded about getting revived? It was a wonder that anybody ever ran dungeons at all.

  “And we’re just talking hypothetically,” Jessica reminded them. “It’s not like this mythical dungeon even exists.”

  Melia was about to open her mouth and say that the dungeon only had normal and heroic difficulties, but she realized that wasn’t what Jessica was saying. Instead, she dug through her inventory, looking through all the junk she saved, once more wondering why she had all of this but didn’t have her normal [Warrior] gear. Eventually she found her [Gemlock Staff] and pulled it out.

  “It exists,” she said simply. “Look.”

  All eyes pinned to the staff, the magic in the air resolving into four separate cases of [Identify].

  [Gemlock Staff]

  Level: 180

  Rarity: Rare

  Intelligence: 80

  Wisdom: 40

  Spirit: 40

  Soulbound

  Melia could see her team’s minds change in real time. Most, like Jessica, from pessimism to growing excitement at the possibility of tackling an undiscovered dungeon. Ellesea had a look of undisguised envy and longing.

  “Those stats are twice as high as mine,” she nearly whimpered, “And almost a hundred levels lower. Think of what I could have done if I had that when I was a hundred eighty….”

  “You can still get it,” Melia smiled. “Well, if it drops, that is.”

  “I think I’ve got the perfect name for us,” Y’cennia finally said after a long time of quiet contemplation. Everyone turned from staring at Melia’s staff to see that the catkin had only partially been paying attention. She had been lost in thought for so long, the others thought she simply checked out.

  “Sunrise Armada,” Y’cennia declared. “All this talk about old parties of heroes and ancient dungeons made me think of Daybreakers. I’m not saying we match up to them, but Melia said they were a bunch of friends at the start, and that’s what we are too, right?”

  “Drop the ‘Armada’ and I’m on board,” Jessica grinned. “Sunrise. I can live with that. And hey, we’re young, it’s still the start of our careers, the sunrise, if you will, so it fits.”

  “But Melia is actually a hundred-“ Alastair started to calmly state.

  “We’re ALL young,” Jessica repeated loudly, though she was smiling. “It. Fits.”

  “It fits,” Alastair agreed with a laugh. “To Sunrise. May the Light always shine down on us.”

  “And have our backs,” Jessica grinned.

  ““To Sunrise!””