Some Fire Snakes belched fire at the three while some tried to slither in and sink their fangs into their flesh. The three cousins minded their distance and used the rocky terrain inside the sinkhole to their advantage.

  Clay zipped around the boulders, pelting the snakes with pebbles. Each cast of the spell took many lives, though most were non-Fae. His sympathetic mana artifact, the Onyx Shot, mingled into the shower of stones from time to time and terminated the biggest threats. It crushed the snakes’ skulls and minced their brains. The only issue it had was what Clay had grumbled about. Once he launched it, he had to pick it back up mid-battle.

  When he ran low on mana, Quin became the vanguard, and Clay took a breather at the back. However, his brutal heavy attacks only cleaved the earth today. The snakes had long slithered away when his battle-axe fell. Even when the swing of his axe caught a Fire Snake, its pliant body countered the brute force. He only chopped them in pieces when he cornered them against the ground by chance.

  The soft counter enraged him, and the boulders and the rocks suffered his wrath. The snakes swam around him, taking free bites on his flesh. The amount of heat poison they’d injected into him had already scalded his skin. Soon his sweat steamed.

  “Go back,” Thorin said and yanked him back by his shirt before he suffered any fatal damage. He’d only supported his brothers with his

  spell so far, but he had to take the front stage now. Clay was still recovering, so he had to buy some time as well.

  Yet, contrary to his expectation, his style of combat countered the snakes. As his ‘chained’ blades unfurled, the snakes died with each swing. The blades danced with the wires and broke the snakes’ softness. Thorin flicked them around, and the blades looked for their targets. While the chained blades created a gap around Thorin, his

  spell launched paper blades to support his offense.

  Deathbolt!

  The dark globe shot away and the strongest Fire Snake that remained ate it whole. Before it could even hiss and create a spark for the belch of fire, the black mist exploded in its mouth. Its flesh withered away. The rot on its skin spread to its bones. After the final sway of its hood, it slumped on the charred grass.

  Because Clay recovered enough mana and joined him, Thorin had sent out his final attack that emptied his core. Together, the two decimated this nest of Fire Snakes after the their strongest fell. Most of the Faes died, whereas the rest retreated into the deeper caves with the remaining population. They were all young Fire Snakes that the three brothers had avoided. Well, two of them had; Quin couldn’t do much.

  Nonetheless, Thorin’s dazzling performance exacted its price. As he governed the wires, they carved back, digging into him. The snakes never came close to him, yet he still bled. He kneeled in his own pool of blood and prayed for the dead.

  “Death washes away the hatred.” He joined his hands. “It concludes all conflicts. I will carry your end with me and live beyond time. So, I hope you rest in peace.”

  “We need to change that weapon of yours,” Clay said, peeling off the wire from his wounds that had bit his flesh.

  “This is what I’m good at,” Thorin said in a hoarse voice.

  “Then we’ll look for a better variation that won't bite you back,” Clay said. “Whose idea was it anyway to make it with wires?”

  “Ask Quin,” Thorin said. “He said it would be lighter and faster this way. Though this just looks worse than it is. None of the wounds reached my bones.”

  “Stop chatting already!” Quin yelled from behind, collapsing by the boulder. “It’s getting hot! Come save me! I’m dying!”

  “Stop exaggerating,” Thorin said. “At best, the heat will fry your brain. You don’t use it anyway, you’re fine.”

  Icetouch!

  He cast the spell and cooled Quin’s head when he recovered enough mana. Despite how many times the poison came for his head, Thorin’s spell kept it at bay. After several casts that repeated the cycle of recovery for his mana, the potency of the heat poison in Quin’s blood waned. Soon he was up on his two feet, helping Clay bandage Thorin’s wounds.

  “How about the spells?” Clay asked.

  “I got several prompts,” Thorin said, and let the Archive’s messages flood in.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Papercut -: Pathfinder Level 5/5]

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Deathbolt -: Neophyte Level 2/5]

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

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

  [Icetouch -: Pathfinder Level 2/5]

  The growth of his other spells aside, the advancement of his

  spell widened his grin the most. For it had reached the end of the pathfinder level, and the next step for it was the adept level. The stage that met the minimum requirement for the rite of any class. Once it reached that level, Thorin would be one step closer to becoming an Arcanist.

  “I gained nothing,” Quin grumbled. “Yet I got bit the most.”

  “Snakes just aren’t a good match for you,” Thorin said, chuckling.

  “Next time we hunt a Fae, let’s pick a bear or something,” Quin said. “I can hack it in two.”

  “Enough dilly dallying,” Clay said. “Let’s collect the corpses and move, lest we get an uninvited guest.”

  “Too late,” Thorin said, wielding his wired blades again and facing the top of the sinkhole. Someone’s presence there had stirred the Ghosts. “We already got some.”

  A man with two short swords came out of the bushes and looked down at the three, leaves stuck in his hazel hair. His team had two girls standing by him, all carrying traces of the foliage around.

  “Care to share the fortune?” the man asked.

  “It’s the fortune we shed our blood for though,” Thorin said with a smile. “It’ll be quite heartless of you to ask for a share. And it’ll be quite impossible for us to give it away.”

  “I hate him,” Quin said, gritting his teeth. “Why does he get to have two girls in his team while I’m stuck with you fuckers?”

  “They’re one of the groups from that mountain,” Clay whispered, reminding Thorin and Quin. “They’re probably carrying a diary for the task as well.”

  “You should’ve recognized us,” Thorin said to the man. “If we kill each other and hinder the completion of our tasks, it’ll only enrage that Magus lord. Neither of us want that, right? Our fight might even benefit a third party, let’s avoid that if we can. So, we’ll take all the loot here that we fought for, and you walk away to find your own prey. What do you say to that?”

  “Now, that’s not a fair proposition for us, is it?” the man said.

  “Well, that’s the proposition you’ll get,” Thorin said. “Worst case scenario for you if we fight; Clay and I can keep you occupied, and our beast of a man Quin here will beat the shit out of your girls. Do you really want to see that?”

  “Try it if you can!” one of the girls shouted, growling.

  Thorin’s smile disappeared, and his eyes glinted. “Do you really want to see that?” he asked again in a frosty tone, dropping the pretense of politeness.

  “What’s your name?” the man asked. “I’m Lanthern. This is Astrid, and Aura.”

  “Thorin,” he said.

  “Clay,” Clay said. Quin named himself as well, albeit grumblingly.

  “Well, Thorin, we’re both on the same boat with the tasks here,” Lanthern said. “How about we cooperate on things related to it?”

  “What did you have in mind?” Thorin asked.

  “Nothing for now,” Lanthern said. “But whoever survived the encounter with those Shepherds are already in the Greysnow street market. And there are some groups among them who are hunting for other task’s diaries. Let’s deal with them together if we have to.”

  “Alright,” Thorin said. “We can do that.”

  “I’ll also look for other like-minded groups from our batch and have a get together,” Lanthern said. “This problem concerns us all.”

  “Be mindful of who you pull in,” Clay said. “If you bring in the wrong group, you’ll just serve them what they want on a platter.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” Aura said with a harrumph.

  Clay shrugged, and Lanthern’s group walked away with his nod. “Hurry up and gather the loot before someone else pops up,” Clay said, and the three got to work.

  …..

  The day was still young, and Thorin’s inventory still had some space. So, the trio looked for another prey. The depth of the forest they’d penetrated already pushed the limits of the premise that was safe for their level. Any further would put them against the deadly packs of Direwolves, so they retreated towards the street market while checking for signs of any Fae.

  Finally, in a valley that saw an unending swarm of bees, they found what Quin yearned for. A Brown Bear that was of the Beast Arcana. Since its level was low and it was a beast, the only growth it had gone through from the arcana was in its physique. It was strong. And so, Quin unleashed his strength against it.

  The axe and the claws collided, and the boulders cracked from the parried attacks. The thundering clangs scared the bees away, and the fluttering birds joined their ranks as well. Thorin and Clay fell back to a supporting role for Quin. Clay backed his offense while Thorin hindered the bear.

  Before long, as Quin roared, his axe split the bear’s head in half. Its last whimper became its dying breath.

  At the same time, the battle also became the final push for Thorin’s spell.

  [Spell mastery level-up.]

  [Papercut -: Adept Level 1/5]

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