Nikolai stared at the translucent screen in front of him, surprised by a few things—though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. He had felt the runes rank up, or at least guessed that was what the sensation meant. That wasn’t the surprising part. It was the stats.

  Sure, he felt a little stronger, a bit more fit, and able to cast more spells in succession than before, but seeing a numerical value attached to that growth was still pretty awesome.

  He deactivated the ring as someone knocked on his door. Simi stepped inside. Of all the people who could have walked through, she was not the one he would have chosen—especially not with that sour expression.

  She looked at him sitting on the bed, back against the wall, wearing a calm expression that only seemed to annoy her further.

  “So, you survived then,” she said curtly.

  Nikolai nodded. “I did.”

  An awkward pause hung between them before she closed the door and looked away from his eyes.

  “So, the expedition. Maybe you shouldn’t join this time around—you know, because of the traumatic experience and all.”

  Simi was trying really hard to make her empathy sound convincing, and fooling absolutely no one.

  Nikolai smiled. “Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine. I won’t get anywhere sitting around here.”

  Simi visibly suppressed her annoyance and met his eyes. “You should rest, Nikolai. You were hurt, and I know from experience that killing someone for the first time changes you. So yeah—you should stay back this time.”

  Her tone was a bit more genuine now, but Nikolai wasn’t going to be dissuaded. She wasn’t wrong—he did feel like crap—but that didn’t change anything. His goal was the same. His ambition hadn’t weakened; if anything, it had grown firmer. He needed power—more, and quickly. The dungeon was an opportunity he wouldn’t give up easily.

  “I’m going, Simi. I’m fine,” he said, firmer this time.

  She gnashed her teeth, then turned and opened the door. “Stubborn idiot. I was trying to be nice here, but fine—go die in the fucking dungeon.”

  Nikolai wasn’t going to stay down. The brothel incident had been horrifying and traumatizing—hell yes—but he refused to let it hold him back.

  Over the next few weeks, he threw himself into work and training like a demon, barely stopping to rest. He pushed himself to his absolute limit each day, and even that bastard Pavel gave him grudging approval.

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  He poured every bit of frustration, pain, and whatever other emotion fought for his attention into his training. He didn’t rush his patients, but he took no breaks between treatments. If he wasn’t working, he was training—with Pavel or alone.

  At night, he worked on his control. Lazgrim’s command over the Soothe spell had surprised him. Until now, Nikolai had simply cast his spells, never bothering to truly manipulate them. He learned he could change the shape and size of Mana Barrier, and he had a dozen ideas about how it might be useful.

  Soothe, however, was the key. It had allowed him to act resolutely—with no hesitation—when he needed to. And he suspected he might need to do so again. Bottling everything up and ending up crippled for hours or days afterward was not good, though. Slowly—night after night—he badgered Lazgrim for instruction until he finally began to understand how to control it himself. He even learned to cancel the effect.

  Lazgrim used it almost like a passive aura—during difficult operations, rituals, or when he needed to keep his emotions in check. Nikolai wasn’t quite there yet, but he could at least cast it on himself at lower intensity.

  The improvement translated to all his other spells as well. Each rune felt different, each required slightly altered methods, but the general principles were the same.

  Then there was affinity. Light mana was calm and obedient to his call, while dark mana was more aggressive and sinister. He had noticed it back in that cold room: his affinities seemed to react to his emotions. When he was angry, dark mana boiled within him, close at hand. Meanwhile, light mana was more difficult to use when he was angry, but flowed like water when he was calm.

  When asked about it, Lazgrim said many people believed their affinity changed them. A fire affinity might make someone brash and reckless; a water affinity, flexible and fluid. But Lazgrim dismissed the idea.

  “I have the light affinity, lad, and I’ve done more than my share of work with the axe—killed in anger, fought for vengeance. No lad, you make your affinity work for you, not the other way around!”

  Eventually, training ended and departure day arrived.

  Nikolai donned his newly bought leather armor in the early hours of the morning. He wore a thick gambeson beneath it, and a white robe belted around the waist over it. Pavel had helped him pick a decent sword—balanced and suited for him. Nothing special, but he had to admit it felt pretty damn cool hanging from his hip.

  Lazgrim had packed his backpack for him. The old dwarf had done his share of adventuring, and the pack included everything Nikolai might need: supplies, bandages, cooking utensils, spare clothing, and more. It was the same enchanted pack he had received from Vitzer and Moulin, able to hold far more than normal.

  There was no ceremony as Simi and Nikolai left the hospitarium. It was early, the streets nearly empty, and only Lazgrim and a couple of nurses were there to see them off. Simi didn’t say much—just waved and walked ahead. Nikolai smiled apologetically and jogged after her. They headed briskly toward the western gate.

  Long minutes passed with no conversation, only the echo of their boots breaking the silence. The guards let them through with a few nods, and once outside, they turned immediately toward the distant mountains.

  The enormous forest where Nikolai had first arrived—and nearly died—stretched before them. Simi set a brisk pace, and despite her shorter legs, Nikolai had to work hard to keep up. A few times he slowed, only for her to shoot him an annoyed look.

  Eventually she spun around, frustration snapping.

  “Alright, look! If you can’t keep up, then fucking go back!”

  Nikolai scowled. “You know, Simi, I am just about done with your shitty attitude. I didn’t ask for any of this bullshit, but I’m here—trying to keep up, holding on by a fucking thread. So maybe, just maybe, you could calm the fuck down and give me a bit of wiggle room!”

  Her eyes flashed. “You’re here because my stupid parents want you here. No one else does, okay? You’re a fucking liability—you’re weak, slow, and so green it’s surprising grass doesn’t grow out of your stupid-looking ears! Either keep up, or I swear I’ll find a nice dark corner of the dungeon and leave you there!”

  She spun and stormed off even faster. Nikolai growled a curse under his breath and ran to keep up.

  The forest was full of sounds, but Simi’s fury seemed to radiate such a thick aura of danger that nothing dared approach them. He was pretty sure he spotted a pigbird fleeing between the trees, but nothing bothered them.

  He had assumed that being a Gravling meant Simi would move gracefully through the forest—like it was her natural habitat. That was not the case. At all. Twice she blasted trees with lightning simply because they stood in her exact path. Her anger probably played a part, but she’d never admit it.

  By the time the noise of the forest reached a zenith and began to quiet, Nikolai was exhausted. His feet had blistered several times, but a quick thread of healing magic fixed that right up each time. He absolutely adored magic.

  Eventually, the trees thinned and the terrain grew rocky. They found an ancient, overgrown road—calling it a road was generous—that wound steeply between boulders and ravines, eventually leveling out as they neared a sheer cliff wall.

  That was when he noticed the smell of food in the air, and the sound of distant voices. Simi, who hadn’t spoken since morning, sighed in relief and jogged ahead. Nikolai let her go; he was in no mood for jogging.

  When he crested the last hill, he saw the entrance to the dungeon—and it did not disappoint. It looked like something out of a movie: a massive rectangular opening carved into the mountainside, flanked by huge murals and equally huge doors standing ajar. The entrance was at least four men tall stacked atop each other, and wide enough for two buses to drive through.

  He stood there for half a minute, stunned.

  A large camp sprawled before the entrance. Dozens of tents, easily fifty people moving about—probably more hidden among the canvas. Everyone carried weapons, armor, staves, or robes. The robed individuals were few; steel-armored men and women dominated.

  Nikolai slowly walked into the camp, no idea where Simi had gone—until a large hand landed on his shoulder.