Rook nodded, sipping at the water. “I guess it’s a free training day then.”

  “I’ll grab a voucher,” Reina said, walking over to the board and tearing a piece from the dome schedule. The motion was linked to the booth in front of the dome, effectively reserving a slot for the mid-afternoon in the training grounds.

  “We should meet with Jinxor. It’s been a while, and I need some answers,” Rook said.

  “Sure, we have time.”

  After giving Brianna two Silver, Rook stood up and killed the last of his water mug. Better to stay as hydrated as possible. Exiting out of the Stumbling Ogre, the sounds and smells of Ollar City hit. They made their way through a throng of Maldoon tourists, inspecting the wares of a small ice cream cart.

  “It never fails,” Rook said.

  “What?”

  “Commerce, if you have nice things, people will come from all over to visit,” he continued, weaving through two Maldoon men, dressed for battle in the layered samurai-style armor.

  “Very true, my father told me that even through the times of war, Ollar City has always bustled like this,” Reina said.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the mimic-style building. It may have been the style of the building or Jinxor’s nature, but Rook hardly ever saw more than a few patrons come out of the shop at any given time. They walked into the eccentric store.

  “Ah, Reina and Rook,” Jinxor said, stepping from behind the counter and dropping the illusion of the tall crooked man. “I’ve been waiting for you both to come back.”

  “We wanted to speak about a few things, Jinxor.” Rook held up the journal. “This journal wasn’t anything special. It was just the raw emotions of a goblin’s fall from the chief’s grace.”

  Jinxor’s face was a mask of calm. He stroked the bald circle on his head and sighed. “So, did anything happen after duck walking?”

  “Other than it setting fire to my muscles? Yes, something weird happened with my sneak skill,” Rook said.

  You’re a conjured then?”

  Reina shot Rook a nervous glance. “N-no, he’s,” she began.

  “Reina, my girl, please don’t lie to me. Frankly, you can’t.” Jinxor puffed out a breath of air. “Please continue, Rook.”

  “Right. I maxed my stealth out with the exploit that you told me,” Rook said, smiling at the old gnome. “How could you possibly know about reading a book and sneaking, to raise the skill? Hell. Every few minutes, I got a notification, it seemed.”

  Jinxor shook his head and smiled. “You should be glad, it wasn’t a folk tale. It worked. I found it in the gnomish archives after the siege of Numeriksden. My father kept the secret alive, learning it from his father, and so on. And so on.”

  “It worked, but how?” Rook asked.

  “You sneak near enemies to level up your skill based upon how much focus you use and how close to the enemy you normally are. Conjured seem to get different skills, or modifications, such as a Psyomancer that can not only read minds, but will others to do their bidding. Terramancers who can raise mountains. You seem to have a skill that allows you to level at an increased rate for whatever reason, lucky fool.” Jinxor began making a gesture with his hands. “As you know, the maker’s system recognizes certain actions and, in turn, will raise the corresponding skill. Sneak is a little different; you increase the skill by crouch walking near an enemy. The closer you get, the more your skill will rise. The system recognizes an enemy item as the enemy.” He placed two small pebbles down on the wooden table. “You cannot get any closer than holding your enemy while focusing on reading. All of these confuse the system, and you level up.” He stacked the two pebbles and moved them back and forth.

  “So in other words, holding an enemy’s item while using intense focus creates the exploit.” His mouth gaped, thinking about he training pits and using the strange orcish mace with the runes on it. Rook gave a low whistle. “That’s why I was able to, huh. Probably why my skills work the way they do, too.”

  I’m about to Min-Max this world. The possibilities… His mind trailed, thoughts of grinding skills flooded into him until the door to the shop opened up, breaking his concentration. Rook turned to face two gnomes.

  “We’ll finish this another time. I have much I’d like to talk to you both about, if you need anything, just take it and leave the money on the counter, I trust you..” Jinxor put on a smile and moved over to greet the gnomes before stopping. “Oh, and good luck on your Sentinel trials, you’ll need it.”

  Rook bought a few more potions, holding ten mana and health potions in his inventory. They began their walk to the arena, taking the same back alleyways until they reached the place.

  Upon arrival, Rook gazed upon the crowd and the line stretching back into the street. Never a dull day here.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Reina, you ever want to just come back here and watch a few fights?” Rook asked, eyeing a group of grey-skinned men and women.

  “Sure, it’d be good to see how others with similar fighting styles use their skills,” she responded.

  They cut the lines and gave the voucher to the man in the booth. “Alright, have a good time,” the man said, accepting the vouchers and pointing to the left.

  Once they were back in the training grounds, Rook rolled his sleeves up, ready for whatever opponent would be put in front of him. He smiled as Astrid made her way over.

  “Rook, I was hoping you’d show up again to see me,” she said with a gentle smile. “I oiled up, in case you tried to take me down again.” Her words purred out.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Rook replied.

  Reina leveled him with a scowl.

  “Astrid.” Reina crossed her arms, putting a scowl on her.

  “Jax,” she crossed her arms and regarded her solemnly. “Surprised Daddy isn’t here to do your training for you.”

  “And I’m surprised you took a break from whoring to be here.”

  Rook felt the electricity in the air. The tension was similar to when he walked into a room after a relationship-ending argument had happened between his parents.

  Gerald walked up, breaking the tension. “You three to the ring. We’re a full house today, so you’ll be

  sharing it.”

  A wicked grin crossed Astrid’s face. “This is gonna be good.”

  “I go first,” Reina said, surprising him. She walked to the left side of the ring.

  The enhancer squared up, unarmed with Astrid, while Gerald crossed his arms, watching next to Rook. Reina eased forward, staying low in her stance. Astrid, on the other hand, strolled forward, like she was walking through a mall. Astrid went low, shooting into a double leg takedown. Reina went up and Reina went down.

  His friend coughed and groaned, rolling slightly and spitting the gritty sand out. Astrid reached down and pulled Reina up by her collar. There was a strange look of focus on her face. No way, she did it on purpose? Astrid hefted the enhancer up a few inches off the ground. Then a look of worry struck her face. She tried again, but she couldn’t lift her. It looked as if the strength was bleeding out of her body. Smiling, Reina broke the grip on her collar and slapped Astrid’s weak hands aside. Instead, Reina dropped her stance, trapped one of Astrid’s arms, and hip tossed her.

  Reina’s breath heaved out of her mouth. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her grimy face. “Do you yield?” She asked Astrid, who lay unresponsive on the ground.

  Gerald gave a hearty laugh like a proud father. “By the Maker’s braided beard.” He clapped his hands. “So much for applying oil to yourself.” There was a tense moment before Gerald took a step forward. “Lass?” He walked up and, with a pained expression, took a knee next to the downed trainer. “What did you do?” He asked Reina with a serious expression.

  “Just taught her a new hip toss technique.” Rook nodded to Reina, and realization hit her. She leaned down, placing a hand on Astrid’s forehead. The trainer’s dumb expression of slack exhaustion slowly faded into her original expression of focus.

  “Jax. You took my stamina bar down.” She regarded her with a slight tremble. “How in the Maker’s hell did you do that?” She slowly sat up with the help of Gerald. “I’ve never heard of affecting a person’s stats like that.”

  “Just a hip toss, eh?”

  Rook shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

  Reina took a moment to explain what Sap did. She gave several apologies to Astrid as she explained. Who waved a dismissive hand.

  “Maybe I misjudged. You’re probably not going to die in your first dungeon, Jax.”

  Her lip trembled, and Rook placed a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe.” Reina stiffened with new determination in her eyes.

  “Yes, I’ve been training.”

  Astrid frowned at the hand and up to Rook. “So, that’s how it is?”

  “What?”

  “I’m ready to go again,” Astrid said, getting up and heading over towards her pack, which was lying on the side of the ring. She picked up a purple potion and downed the contents. Wiping her mouth, she glanced his way one more time before tossing the bottle aside like a discarded towel.

  “I don’t know what you did, but she downed a strength potion,” Reina said.

  Rook walked over towards the barrels of training clubs and fished for the orcish mace. He turned towards the trainer and immediately brought the club up in a defensive stance. Astrid charged towards him, William Wallace style, with what had to be an overhead strike.

  She chopped down, relentlessly attacking high and low. Had it not been for his quick reaction training and experience with combative subjects on PCP, it would’ve been over much quicker. She spun around low for a sweep, quick. Too quick for him to dodge, it felt like the world was pulled from beneath him. His vision went from Astrid’s blasting face to the sky. His back collided hard with the ground, forcing the air from his lungs, and he felt like he had to puke.

  “Good, protect yourself at all costs. Sometimes your opponent will have more energy or more power,” Astrid said, holding a purple vial to her lips and drinking half the bottle. “Let’s see how you face a much stronger opponent.”

  Blunt and block skill raised

  Blunt 140 of 250

  Block 40 of 250

  120 experience gained

  270 experience of 750 until level 13

  He grabbed his club and readied himself. The trainer came at him once again, like a woman possessed by fury. She did the unexpected by throwing the club at him and then charging. He batted aside the club, but was quickly seized by the woman. Her strength potion was making it extremely difficult to break free.

  Rough hands grabbed his shirt; he felt the fabric pulling as she grappled him. He heard ripping as the front of his linen tore open. She wound a hand back, intending to hit him again with a palm strike, but he closed his eyes and headbutted her face. The cartilage in her nose bent with the impact, and her grip weakened, so he did it again. Crying out, she released her grip.

  His brain was firing on all cylinders as the commanding presence kept him calm. As his breathing returned to somewhat normal levels, he feigned a stumble. She surged forward for another series of overhead strikes, leaving the right side of her body exposed. He spun around, letting the club whip like a dragon’s tail, catching her in the ribs with an audible thud.

  Her eyes went momentarily wide with shock, realizing her ribs must be hurt. To her credit, she was a warrior and continued fighting. She charged another barrage of powerful strikes, over and over, until the training club bowed and splintered, breaking at the middle portion. His wrists were tingling, painful from the impacts. Shit, she’s not stopping. He held his broken club up in a southpaw stance, taking blow after blow with the magically induced strength. They continued like this for a long time, trading blows and blocking. His fatigue was long since maxed out; now pure will kept him upright. It was worth it, though. He didn’t know if there were any other enemy clubs he could bust and exploit the system with.