I was right. Folly was not happy.

  He didn’t snap or pace like Cari or I might, but it was still obvious. Just… quieter. Controlled. The kind of anger that didn’t explode, but made you feel judged enough to regret your life choices anyway.

  Thankfully a Guild investigator with the right skills was able to clear me of any blame, even mangled as the bodies were. That particular Class type is...odd. Stranger even than Entertainer Classes.

  Like all Classes and Skills, investigator types are varied. Some just have skills that can sniff out falsehoods, while others might have abilities similar to a gods damned oracle. It just depends.

  The one who cleared me was the more mundane sort, but reliable and trustworthy enough to convince the Guildmaster of the truth in my words.

  Folly still gives me narrow-eyed looks, like he thinks I might still have had something to do with their deaths.

  I mean, I know he doesn’t actually blame me or hold it against me, but he’s clearly very unhappy about losing one of our best fighters, regardless of circumstances.

  To be fair, I probably could have saved Darius. I chose not to. While I wouldn’t have done it any differently even if given the option, I am glad that I’m not in any real trouble for it.

  Besides, they started it.

  It also helps that we have bigger things to worry about. With the statues being smart enough to use ambush tactics, we have to make some changes.

  Watches are bolstered, doubling the number of high level members on each patrol. We even add a few lower leveled members to each group to make sure they can delay long enough for backup to arrive.

  The camp is condensed, each tent only a breath away from the next, with many Delvers deciding to sleep in the same tent as a friend or party member for added security.

  Worst of all, though, is the reduced resting periods. Eight hours of rest became six, and even the most stoic of Delvers are starting to get snippy.

  “Oh, stop whining, Emi. You’ll live. You even have a skill that reduces how much sleep you need,” Cari says, waving my complaints off.

  I wasn’t stoic, nor was I prideful enough to pretend I didn’t care just to look tough.

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t need sleep! I’m tiiiired. Cari, carry me,” I whine.

  I make sure to fold my ears pitiably and let my tail flop with each step. I’d been practicing using my Charisma without really leaning on it these past few days, and it's been going pretty well.

  I think.

  Instead of just following its guidance like usual, I’d do what feels right in the moment—then check to see if Charisma agrees with the action.

  More often than not, I’m close. Still a long way to go, but… baby steps. Next, after extensive and thorough testing, was to actually try doing it with anyone other than Cari.

  I just hadn’t quite built up the courage yet. I would, though. Eventually.

  “No,” she hisses, pushing my outstretched arms away. “And are you seriously giving me that look while making a pun with my name? Just how shameless are you?”

  “Is it shameless if it works?” I ask innocently.

  “It’s not working,” she says flatly, but I can see a hint of amusement in her eyes.

  “Yet,” I correct her.

  She barks out a laugh, somehow still batting away my grabby hands.

  “Incoming!” someone shouts from the front, their voice echoing off the cavernous walls around us.

  I groan.

  We’ve been dealing with these things attacking almost every hour since their first ambush, and it's starting to get old. Like clockwork, Cari and I, and a few other C and B rankers assigned to the back, close ranks with the rest of the expedition.

  We likely won’t even be needed, but the damned things were clever. They didn’t actively adapt their strategies, but they were smart enough to try to sneak past the front line to wreak havoc in the center of our gathering.

  They’d almost pulled it off during the second ambush, and kept trying every time after. Even when it never worked again.

  I did learn something though. Most people can't sense or see mana the same way that I can, which didn't come as much of a surprise given that it's part of my new Race's natural abilities. But what I see has started to make a little more sense.

  Ambient mana is bright blue and wispy, blinking in and out of existence all over the place, seemingly as random as it gets. My own mana is a similar hue of blue, albeit a bit brighter.

  But whenever I see someone else use mana... it's red. Not blood red or anything ominous—just red. Almost like the color of the text for the World Notices or System warnings.

  It's nothing crazy, like being able to determine who's who just from their mana alone, but it's still useful. A quick test with Cari proved that trying to interact with the red mana is significantly harder than ambient mana, which itself is still harder to interact with than my own mana.

  I'm not sure if it'll help me any, but I'll at least be more prepared to put forth extra effort if I ever want to attempt to mess with someone else's magic with my second Intelligence Milestone.

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  Despite the constant and increasingly regular harassment, we’ve made steady progress. It was slowing the closer we got to the fourth layer though, and Folly was starting to actually look a little concerned.

  We hadn’t lost anyone else yet, but there were some close calls, and even the toughest Delvers were showing signs of fatigue. Mana was running thin all across the expedition, and tempers even thinner.

  The sounds of fighting from up ahead end fairly quickly, and an echoing “All clear!” signals us to start moving again.

  “We’re not going to be able to keep this up,” Cari whispers to me after a few minutes.

  I can see the calculations practically flitting through her eyes. When she looks at me next, I know she’s got something.

  “I have an idea,” she says. “And you’re probably not going to like it. Hells, even I don’t like it. But I’m not sure if we have a choice anymore.”

  I narrow my eyes at her.

  “I’ll tell you later. After we set up camp at the bottom,” she says, waving off my glare.

  “Fine, fine,” I grumble.

  It takes another hour to get to the bottom of the stairs, and we’re constantly interrupted by the statues the entire way down. But eventually, we manage to set up camp at the base of the stairway and the Mage-types get wards and alarms set up all around us.

  Out of habit, I watch a few as they work, each carving runes into the ground or walls, and one even somehow melting the stone with magic to make the strange symbols. It takes me nearly five minutes to realize what I’m doing.

  I’m so accustomed to trying to figure out how to fix myself that I nearly forgot it’d already happened.

  So I turn away with a smile, and freeze when I see Cari still there, smirking at me.

  “Now that you’re done unraveling the mysteries of the universe…” she says, the glint of amusement in her eyes transforming into one of determination, “… mind coming with me to have a talk with the Guildmaster about my idea?”

  I laugh. “After watching you glare him down when I first got back, there’s no way I’m going to miss this.”

  It takes a few minutes to get through the cramped spaces between the tents set up in front of the stairway. While we’d split from the majority of those who came along, there were still easily over fifty people. Combined with the forced proximity for safety, it doesn’t feel like we’d left anyone behind at all.

  At least the command tent is easy to find given its size. Before we enter, I can hear the murmurs of conversation from within, my ears swiveling to listen without even trying. It’s honestly surprising, because I know if Folly wanted to keep quiet, he’d abuse the wind or whatever weird magic he uses to just... make it so.

  The fact that he doesn’t isn’t a good sign.

  “… leave three Tier One teams to guard the stairs and advance with the rest of the expedition as planned. I don’t like it, but it’s the only way to guarantee the safety of the upper levels,” Folly says, sounding weary.

  “It won’t work, though. We’d bleed to death before we even reach the fifth layer. We can’t afford to leave three of our eight teams behind,” another man argues, but I don’t recognize their voice.

  “Then what do you propose we do, Arlo? I need alternatives, not doom and gloom,” Folly hisses.

  Cari and I finally reach the entrance, and she pauses to take a shaky breath before resolving herself. She opens the flap, stepping inside with a stern look on her face, and I follow.

  Inside are eight people. Guildmaster Folly, a bald man with a red beard that he’s arguing with that I can only assume is Arlo, and six others I’ve only ever seen in passing.

  Each and every one of them look stressed. Especially Folly. There's a hint of newly forming dark bags under his eyes, and his features are newly wrinkled with worry.

  When his eyes snap to us, I scan the rest of the people in the room to avoid his darkened gaze.

  They’re all Tier One, and even though I don’t know them personally, I know each of them is a party leader of one of the Tier One parties in the expedition. Everyone is seated around a surprisingly large circular table, leaving me to wonder how someone managed to carry it along for days.

  Then I mentally slap myself. Folly is a Guildmaster. He’s probably got at least a couple storage items.

  “Cari? Emilia? What are you two doing here?” Folly asks, his glare stabbing into us without mercy.

  “I have a way for us to clear the dungeon without risking the expedition,” Cari says bluntly.

  Everyone looks at her then, their gazes equally intense. Even I give her an expectant look, my own curiosity plain on my face.

  While I would back her up no matter what she wanted, I still want to know what I'm actually supporting here.

  “We send a small group. Two of our strongest parties and our best solos. Without the need to protect the expedition or Carriers, they can get there in days and will be able to handle the statues that attack them,” she says, her confidence never wavering.

  Several pairs of eyes light up at the idea.

  “Wait, that might actually work!" Arlo says. "We can leave the rest of the expedition here to guard the entrance until the ones sent out return."

  “And if they clear the dungeon," a woman interjects, "we won’t have to worry about the statues constantly replenishing their numbers."

  “Then we’ll be able to slowly but surely clear the fourth and fifth floors,” Cari finishes.

  Folly is grinning now, his eyes filled with newfound vigor.

  “That might actually work,” he says, turning to one of the party leaders. “We have, what, two months of supplies left? That’s plenty. Zorin, Carol, how much stronger can we make the wards?”

  A man nearly as burly as Scruffy and an older woman give each other a look, and the woman gives him a nod and a wicked grin.

  “We can turn this place into a fortress,” he says, a grin of his own dimpling his cheeks.

  “Good, get started. We’ll need this place safe for a longer term encampment.” Folly rubs his chin thoughtfully as he looks between me and Cari. “Arlo, I’m going to leave you in charge. Cari, will you be his second?”

  That seems to shake Cari’s confidence, but she recovers quickly after giving me a nervous glance.

  “Y-yes. I can do that,” she says.

  When Folly turns his intense gaze on me, I wave him off and sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go.”

  His gaze softens then, his delight clear. “Good! Thank you, Emilia.”

  “I’m sorry, but why would we send a Tier Zero? That’s the exact opposite of the plan,” says one of the other female party leaders, giving Folly a confused look.

  The rest of the party leaders smirk at her, only making her more confused.

  I flush at that. The recognition from the strongest delvers in the city feels... nice... but also a bit embarassing.

  “Well, you see—” Folly starts, only to be interrupted by Arlo.

  “She whooped Darius’ ass at level 20, that’s why,” he says, laughing.

  Folly releases an exasperated sigh before continuing as if nothing happened, “And if the reports are true, she played a key role in the elimination of the gangs, and—”

  He’s interrupted once more, this time by another of the women on the opposite side of the table.

  “She’s a healer, too! I watched Darius run her through a couple times and she just shrugged it off,” she chatters, her high, sweet voice touched with a melodic accent that turns every word into a cheerful chant. “Did you know she was in Agora’s party for the original expedition? Apparently Agora chose her herself!”

  I can’t help but stare at the woman in utter confusion. That voice and body do not match up. She looks like she could throw me across the room with one arm—muscles rippling beneath purple swirling paint and skin she proudly shows off. Even her hair is dyed purple.

  When my eyes meet this new woman's gaze, I see a hint of fanaticism and quickly look away. I didn’t want her trying to attach herself to me somehow. We’d gone days without interacting, and I was going to do my level best to keep it that way.

  Still, the look reminds me of Agora, and a pang of regret fills my belly at the thought.

  I hope I get to see her again. I owe her a few apologies.

  Folly just rubs at his face with a look of frustration. Meanwhile, the woman who questioned me in the first place looks at me with clear curiosity.

  “Right. Anyways, that’s why. Now then, lets get the group organized and spread the word about the changes,” Folly says, giving Cari and me a serious look. “Grab a seat, you two. It’s going to be a long night.”

  I shoot Cari a pleading look, silently begging her to save me.

  She just grabs my hand with a shit-eating grin and drags me toward a pair of empty chairs.