Gilgamesh concentrated with great strain as he struggled to hold the concept of Virtue within his soul. Even though the presence his soul emitted was dull and feeble, he managed to finally carve the last rune.

  [ You have completed the quest given by [ All-Father ]. Rewarded 1 Attribute Point. ]

  [ You have completed the quest given by [ Old Man of the Woods ]. Rewarded 1 Attribute Point. ]

  [ You have completed the quest given by [ Serpent of False Mysteries ]. Rewarded 10 Attribute Points. ]

  Gilgamesh lingered on the Rune of Good he had just carved, which bore a resemblance to the symbol of Omega. It had taken him 37 attempts, the most of any of the runes by far.

  Compatibility with the various runes was not something he had imagined would be relevant, but it had become increasingly apparent these past two days. Some came far more easily to him than others, but none as easily as the Rune of Power. Though the Rune of Evil was not far behind.

  Between the 14 Runes, the number of actual attempts he made was not that high, given the time he had. The strain on his soul was a burden, certainly, but it was something he could endure without much issue. The mana cost, however, was what truly limited him.

  He had no choice but to rest regularly to recover mana. Passive Meditator helped, but its level was still low. As it was now at level 1, it only increased the rate by 10%.

  Most of the time spent over the past few days was on recovering. It would not have been so bad if he could have spent that time studying runes, but no such books were available to him. Lox was prohibited from lending him anything, so he could only wait until he obtained enough money to purchase them. And jade was the one thing Gilgamesh lacked even more than mana.

  Gilgamesh contemplated for a few moments, and made a bold decision.

  [ Control: 11 -> 29 ]

  Mana capacity was an issue, but this was largely due to the number of failed attempts he had to make, and larger still the amount of time it took him to carve a single rune. Higher control would increase his rate of success and the speed which he would master runes. Not to mention, it would allow him to wield his Traits more easily.

  [ Gilgamesh - Hero (Iron Rank) ]

  Attributes:

  Strength - 2

  Agility - 7

  Vitality - 10

  Perception - 7

  Force - 3

  Spirit - 26

  Control - 29

  Willpower - 14

  Traits:

  Incomplete Stigmata (???), Master Golem Core lvl. 2 (silver), Passive Meditator lvl. 1 (bronze), Golem Peerer lvl. 1 (bronze)

  Material: Clay (inferior)

  Mana Capacity: 260/260

  Unalloted Attribute Points: 0

  Space suddenly warped around him and he was pushed back out onto the streets in front of the store.

  “Come back once ya get more money.” Lox said.

  Gilgamesh headed off without a word, and walked straight past the Laborers Guild table without so much as a glance. “Labor is far too slow. I’ll run out of time at this rate. Killing is against the rules, so it’s safe to assume stealing is as well. How can I make money quickly…?”

  Gilgamesh scoured the bazaar for ideas, anything he could use. As he did, he caught sight of someone he recognized. A brown-skinned dark-haired beauty in a luxurious green dress and excessive jewelry.

  Kubera stood in the streets with her arms gracefully crossed, surrounded by several dozen people who appeared to be other members of her clan. And by Gilgamesh’s estimation, she held the highest position among them.

  A man appeared from a nearby labor table and walked straight over to the Pandava, and handed over the shard he had just earned. One of the Pandavas wrote something down on paper, said a few words, and the laborer walked away with an expression of moderate relief and optimism. That shard was then immediately handed over to Kubera.

  It wasn’t just one or two either. Hundreds of common-looking heroes handed over the fruits of their hard labor one after the other for seemingly nothing in return.

  “Threats wouldn’t cause this. The Trial doesn’t allow it.” Gilgamesh sank into contemplation. “An offer? What could they possibly offer in this situation? Hypnotism? Is that not against the rules?”

  Gilgamesh watched a moment more, then confronted one of the laborers. “Why are you giving your money to the Pandava?”

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  The sudden question startled the man a little. “Huh? Oh. You haven’t heard? Everyone who gives them money is promised a place in their clan after the Trials. You see, the whole world is going to change! No more governments, just powerful families and kingdoms. And the Pandava will be one of them, so it’s best to get in good with them now and secure your future. The more you give, the better your position.”

  Gilgamesh listened as the man happily parroted what the Pandava must have convinced him with. “They’re making cheap promises to fools like this who won’t even survive to the end. The number of obligations they’ll have to fulfill will be nothing compared to what they gain, if they even choose to honor them…”

  Gilgamesh just walked off without acknowledging the hapless pawn’s existence any further. He hadn’t conceived of a scheme such as that, though mainly because it wasn’t something he could replicate. He had no clan behind him to put up that front.

  As Gilgamesh walked further, he came to a strange part of the bazaar he hadn’t seen before, one absent of the prosperity behind him. There were no stores to be found, only abandoned and dilapidated buildings. And the streets were more dirt than paved stone. Rather than a bazaar, it seemed more like a slum.

  Activity within caught his attention and he walked to the small crowd centered around a wall making a ruckus. One man rolled a pair of dice against the wall as Gilgamesh neared, and cursed at the resulting 2 and 5.

  “Better luck next time.” Another man lightly mocked. He had a more dangerous air about him, and slightly better gear than more of the crowd.

  Gilgamesh noticed there were five other such men who gave off the same feeling, and there was a clear divide between them and those clamoring for their turn to throw the dice.

  “Peasants and bandits.” Gilgamesh determined of the two groups.

  Someone finally stepped up, egged on by the others along with his own hopes. He nervously rolled a pair of 3s and roared out a cheer. One of the thugs handed the man 2 shards, which seemed to be the source of his jubilation.

  “How does this work?” Gilgamesh asked the short-haired man with a psychotic smile.

  “First time playing dice?” He replied with erratic mockery.

  Gilgamesh said nothing. He merely stared back in silence, as he waited for an answer. The thug blew air out of his nose and glanced to the side, as though he found something amusing. Then he looked back at Gilgamesh directly.

  “It’s called Doubles. You roll the same of any number, you get back double what you put up.”

  “And if you lose?” Gilgamesh asked.

  The man snorted. “Then you get nothing. So you want a turn or what?”

  Heightened clamor pulled Gilgamesh’s attention to an argument that had broken out. It seemed the same man who just won two shards and lost it all the second time.

  The man pulled out a dagger and held it out desperately. “G-give it back or I’ll cut you!”

  No sooner had he said the words, than the burly man opposite him cracked open his skull with a hammer. Gilgamesh glanced back to the bazaar but there was no sign of the Puppet Guards.

  “You can kill in the slums?” That was of great interest to Gilgamesh.

  The short-haired thug broke into laughter and jittered to his feet as the burly man grabbed the dead gambler by the leg and hurled the corpse away over the wall.

  “That’s why you follow the rules, ahahahaha! What are you waiting for? Get back to it, get back to it.” He told the other thugs and the now nervous gamblers.

  “Hey, how ‘bout that turn?” The crazy thug asked him after he finished laughing.

  But Gilgamesh merely walked back to the bazaar without a word. The thug joked and mocked his perceived cowardice to the others, but Gilgamesh did not even spare them a sliver of attention.

  “Only a 1 in 6 chance of losing money. Double the return means 4 shards profit for every 6 gamblers. The only cost is time and each game takes just a few moments. It can be expanded with ease. Setting up along the boundary of the bazaar will encourage more people to take the risk of the slums. There must still be millions upon millions of people left within the Trials. I could make all I need…”

  This was what he had been searching for, but Gilgamesh was not so naive that he believed he could do it alone. “Such a veritable gold mine will attract many rivals. Attacks and assassinations will be constant. I need suitable pawns.”

  Gilgamesh searched through the Bazaar for a while but found no one who fit his criteria. He wanted people who would submit to his rule for the promise of gain, but lacked the spine to betray him. What he wanted were signs of despair, submissiveness, and cowardice in those who had not quite given up. He looked for desire and limited ambition.

  He spotted a man with hopeless body language, but his eyes were shifty and spiteful. One woman seemed malleable but had too fully resigned herself to her fate. An old man returned from a day of labor with little to show for it, but his expression was too honest. No one was suitable.

  “I can’t lower my standards. Worthless pawns are not enough. I need someone I can rely on to be my guard…”

  As he walked past an alley of the slums, something caught the corner of his eye. A woman leaned against a wall in the slums, with a demeanor of a most unusual nature.

  She seemed roughly his own age. Taller than the average woman, though still half a head shorter than himself. Fair-skinned with long ashen hair, a bit too rugged and unkempt to be called curly. Her eyes were a timid yellow with three black rings swirling around the irises.

  Pale scars covered most of her face and neck, including a still raw cut on her cheek that seemed recent. Remnants of a terrible burn crept out of the right side of her woolen shirt collar to nearly reached her ear.

  Her armor was a patchwork of various make and materials that fit together well enough for decent protection. Most notably, she wore a Viking round shield on her left arm and held a mace in her right. She even had a pair of worn-out warrior's boots and tattered leather knightly gloves. Clearly, she had spent ample time in her scrapyard of the Second Trial.

  More pertinently to Gilgamesh's needs, she seemed desperate but not in despair. There was a danger and anxiety about her that Gilgamesh felt drawn to. He activated one of his Forest Hands and commanded it to latch onto his back as he walked into the slums.

  “She isn’t unwilling to work, nor that she thinks herself above it. Is something preventing her? Fear? No, caution…” Gilgamesh assesses. “She might be a good candidate.”

  Some random scum with a sleazy look approached her just before he could. “Hey, girl. How about you and me-”

  She shattered the man’s head with her mace instantly, without even skipping a beat in her anxious demeanor. There was no hesitation in her actions nor guilt thereafter.

  Gilgamesh glanced at the dead man’s corpse as it fell, completely unfazed. When he looked back at her, he found her gaze already turned up towards him, assessing him wearily.

  By any measure, she looked pathetic. But there was a strange firmness to her. A smoldering, tenacious resolve that refused to die. Within her eyes, there was a craze that he had not seen from any other he had encountered in the Trials thus far, or even before the Tower, for that matter.

  Gilgamesh stared straight into her eyes with his own infallible gaze. “I think we can help each other.”