The morning came gray and still, the ash-thick sky casting a pale gloom over the crumbling city. There was no sun to rise, only a slow brightening that hinted at the passage of time. But it was enough to mark that the day had come.

  I ducked into the tent, nudging Balt with the flat of my boot. The mage groaned, rolled, and eventually sat up with bleary eyes and hair that looked like it had declared independence overnight. I cleaned up as best I could with the water from my flask and a handful of rags Balt had kept in storage, before stepping out into the cold morning light of day.

  Lawson was there, surprisingly, sitting cross-legged beside the fire, idly turning a stick in his fingers. His eyes flicked up as we approached. “Good morning, you two. Please take a seat, and we can begin.”

  ”Begin?” I asked. Lawson then gestured to a couple of spots next to the fire, and me and Balt sat down.

  “Yesterday I spent time observing you both and your Talents. I gave you some instruction’ when I felt it necessary out in the field. But from time to time in the mornings apart from this morning, we will discuss the previous day’s battles in more detail and talk about what you two can improve on.”

  That actually sounded great to me. “In my world, we had something similar called after-action reports, and they were very helpful.”

  “I see,” replied Lawson.

  Balt chimed in then. “If were not discussing the battles yesterday, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Before we can get into that, I would like to hear both of your stories. They don’t have to contain every detail or anything like that. Just a quick synopsis of how your classes were obtained and what your motivation was for taking on this challenge.”

  I looked at. "You want to go first?" Balt just shrugged, seemingly nonplussed and proceeded to tell his story. After a short time, I told mine. The military, the bracer, the new world, the Elite.

  My sister being taken hostage, and my need to save her and my niece. Lawson just listened, asking a few clarifying questions here and there.

  Lawson then asked us to explain what we knew of stats and Talents. We did so. It was a sadly a very short explanation.

  Lawson was nodding his head as I finished. “Okay, this is a unique situation to be sure, but I have a much better feel for what we need to discuss first now.

  To answer your question from earlier, Balt. I want to fill in the holes in your knowledge on Talent builds and help you understand how to tackle Dungeon floors.”

  “When you were scanned in the chamber before coming here. You had some odd but powerful abilities. I observed those Talents yesterday and before you both get started for the day, we should have a discussion on the basics of your class and how the Talents you selected will affect your Soul Tree and your future combat style.”

  “Soul Tree?” Asked Balt.

  Lawson waved his hand dismissively. Talent Tree sits in your soul realm, so I use that term interchangeably."

  Lawon leaned forward, the dying campfire light catching the sharp lines of his face. “I need you to understand where you’re at, so you know where you’re going. You’re not just a soldier anymore, Riven. You’re something else. Something...more. And Balt if you're going to walk and grow with him. We need for you to know as much as him so you can become an Elite in your own right.”

  I shifted, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “I didn’t exactly get a manual when I landed here.”

  Lawson’s expression softened. He traced a finger through the air, and a semi-transparent projection of Riven’s Soul Tree flickered to life between them. Branches pulsed with power. “No one does,” he said. “But most people don’t imprint half a dozen Talents into their Soul Tree Roots like a grandmother puts patches on a quilt.” “You’ve got raw combat instincts, sure but your Talent spread screams hybrid build. A path not many champions I know of went down.”

  The projection snapped off. Silence settled over the camp, broken only by the crackle of embers as I stared at my Talent Tree used to be. "Ashbourne, and some of my Talents like Limit Break and Limit Breaker Slash just appeared when I was in the middle of a fight.

  That made Lawson pause in what he was about to say. After a few seconds, he continued. “You must have a Legacy Class that should have been apparent to me from your soul weapon. That talent set of your class Limit Breaker may be what you have to lean into for you to maximize your growth. I will do some more thinking on that subject for now. But I will tell you this, for you to be this early in your journey and to have those Talents appear in your time of need is un-heard of, even for a System champion.”

  Balt snorted. “So, he’s a legacy-class Outlier with spontaneous Talent generation? Great. I’m in a party with a myth.”

  I just laughed a little. “If only, Balt, if only.”

  "But seriously, can’t I just level up my Talents and Class quickly by using the extra Points I always get?”

  “Outliers do get extra Talent points,” Lawson replied. “But don’t dump them all in now. Train, fight, learn your abilities first, you’ll need that knowledge when it matters."

  “In fact, the most powerful Outliers I ever came across were heavily specialized and leaned into their classes. They had spent years on their talents honing them to a fine edge. The System would either upgrade their Talents automatically for them, or when they felt ready to use their banked points, they had a more powerful upgrade available at that point."

  ” Take your armor skill and movement skill, for example. Most people, champions included, focus on the first one they were guided toward by their mentor, shaping it into their signature fighting style for long periods of time. If the person is going to have high strength and stamina and armor, that person functions as the tank and damage dealer. What’s the point of a tank that won’t stand its ground and take the hits?”

  “Being able to take a hit and avoid one, that versatility, is a far better approach than just standing there like a punching bag,” I said.

  Lawson nodded. “It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure. Your instincts told you to be versatile, most people don’t think that way. I guess that’s part of following your own path.”

  ”But I get why you did what you did, selecting the armor talent and then your movement talent so close to one another. You only have you and Balt currently, and from what your Dungeon planet sounds like. These factions are currently not too keen on aiding you with elite party members.”

  Lawson held up three fingers. “There are three reasons why your current Talent choices could turn out okay.” He ticked off his fingers as he talked.

  “One you lucked the hell out; by passing the Gate Trials and gaining an overseer…me. I will help you with your progression, so you will have a strong base of knowledge to grow from.”

  Lawson tapped his second finger. “Two, your Soul Tree has not stabilized yet on any set growth path. You’re only a few days into this thing. You’re still in the growing roots stage. That’s rare. Most Outliers get hard-coded into a class and their kits by their predecessors before they ever talk to one of my kind. Lawson’s eyes shown with what I thought could have been excitement as he said. “But yours is still fluid, meaning you can be flexible in your growth, and we can experiment some.” "If you train smartly, lean into synergy, and avoid spreading yourself all over the place anymore, you might be able to shape your class into something truly special. A battlefield monster with damage, defense and speed. Lawson then stage whispered… “if we can fix your longevity in battle, that is.”

  “Three, you got me.” “Wasn’t that number one?” I asked. “Exactly,” said Lawson with a smile.

  “I hope you stub your toe on a very hard stone,” quipped Balt.

  They moved in formation now.

  I took point, Ashbourne in hand, my boots crunching softly over shattered stone and building debris. Balt followed close, staff in a low guard, eyes sharp behind the smudges of soot on my face from all the dirty and dusty building me and Balt had been clearing. Lawson brought up the rear. Not disappearing this time, like yesterday. He was their watchful observer as we cleared the area.

  We cleared blocks of ruined buildings, room by room, until the city’s bones were swept clean. Lawson stopped me several time to demonstrate how to use my sword properly. With his help my strikes sharpened.

  He had pulled Balt inside and was moving his hands around excitedly explaining something to him.

  Balt’s spells started to snap off faster as well. I felt like I was no longer just surviving. I was easily clearing the ruins and improving my abilities.

  Even Lawson, aloof as he was, began giving less instruction and more space.

  “Left flank!” Balt shouted as they entered a collapsed chapel, his voice cutting clean through the dusty air. I pivoted, bisecting a skittering horror before it could leap on top of me. Its body twitched once, then stilled in a hiss of steam.

  They kept it up for hours.

  Room by room. Building after building. No grand monsters, no new surprises, just attrition.

  I am doing it. I am pushing forward.

  By midday, we had swept through four full blocks. Balt had found a strange, humming crystal that he immediately pocketed with an excited, “Mine now.”

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  We both had gained another level through clearing the current building we were in. I was now level 10, and several system messages had popped up from that milestone. I had another system notification pop up earlier as well while I was using Limit Strike on a remnant dark hound. I had not got the opportunity to see to my progression yet and I was getting anxious to see the upgrades.

  We had just cleared the building below us making it to the rooftop overlooking what must have been the city’s old market square. They both just looked at Lawson with anticipation, and he waved his hand for them to begin.

  Not wasting any time, I dove into his anchor to view my system messages and status.

  I had already checked with Lawson and knew I had to continue to put my available stat points into Spirit. I did so, bringing it up to 24. I checked Limit Break description, and the cooldown time had gone down by almost a full 3 minutes after the stat adds. Awesome, now just need another 100 levels or so to activate it without having to incur a cooldown. No problem there at all.

  I went back to the world and told Lawson about the Talent Point I had received. The man thought for a moment before giving his two cents.

  “I think you should upgrade your weapon. The other skills you can upgrade with training and everyday use. Your soul weapon is crazy compatible with you. So, there is little chance you will ever use anything else. Also, there is no other way to upgrade it without using a Talent Point in the environment we’re currently in.”

  I turned the Talent Point over in my mind, feeling its potential thrum just beneath the surface of my thoughts. Then I reached for Ashbourne.

  Ashbourne’s weight shifted in my hand, responding as if it sensed the fight ahead. Its blade caught the dim blue light, whispering along my palm like it was alive.

  My grip tightened around the leather-bound hilt, knuckles whitening.

  Alright let’s see what you can really do.

  I used the Talent Point. The air thickened. My tree leaves began to wave as my soul wind moved them. The hanging sword on my branch grew and began to change from bluish silver to just silver.

  From my hands I felt the guard change, silver flame ignited—thin at first, like threads of molten moonlight weaving along the fuller of the blade. They pulsed with a rhythm that matched my heartbeat, running up and down the metal in restless patterns. The flames weren’t hot; they were something purer, colder, like the burn of biting air on mountaintops, or the sear of lightning just before it strikes.

  Power hummed through the grip and into my arm. Every joint and tendon felt reinforced, an invisible lattice tightening his stance. The silver light intensified until the entire sword was wreathed in shifting, liquid fire, each lick of it leaving a faint ripple in the air.

  Then, just as quickly, the flames sank inward, folding into the blade until it gleamed with a subtle silver sheen. The weight was gone, replaced by a balance so perfect it felt like an extension of my arm.

  A faint chime rang in my mind.

  Nice. I had one more notification to check.

  I came back to myself and looked at my new weapon. Silver fire trailed Ashbourne’s every movement now, leaving afterimages that hummed in the air, and I could feel the sword vibrating in tune with my pulse I activated Limit Slash and gave it a testing swing. I was able to produce a powerful strike, but he no longer felt I was holding up a truck on my shoulders.

  I swung again, testing the new edge, every strike felt lighter, faster, like my muscles had remembered a forgotten rhythm.

  Lawson watched, expression unreadable.

  Balt let out a low whistle. “Well remind me never to be on the other end of that.”

  “Let’s get back to it,” I said with a satisfied smile.

  I dropped from the roof, the height no problem with my increased stats. My boots hitting the cracked flagstones with muted thud. As I moved away from the city, fog began to form, making it hard to see ten feet in front of me.

  A movement in the fog resolved into a corrupted hound, its body warped and ridged with shadow. It lunged, silent, fast.

  I stepped forward without thinking. Ashbourne slid through the air in a smooth, perfect arc, silver fire trailing like a comet’s tail. The blade met the creature mid-leap; there was no clash, no struggle just a flare of argent light as the hound split cleanly in two, the halves dissolving into motes before they even struck the ground.

  The silver flames shimmered along the cut’s path for a heartbeat longer, then sank back into the steel. I didn’t even have to break stride.

  Balt exhaled a low, impressed sound. “Yeah,” he muttered, “I've got to get myself one of those.”

  Lawson only glanced at the blade, unreadable as ever, and kept walking toward the looming gates. They walked in silence, guard up. The fog gave way to reveal a huge structure in the distance. A castle.

  Lawson nodded once. “Good, we’re here. The reason I wanted you to clear this area out is for what comes next. You needed all the extra levels you could get.”

  Balt groaned. “Can we have one moment without the ominous foreshadowing?” But even as he joked, the mage’s fingers stayed close to his staff.

  “Dungeons don’t offer peace freely. You had to carve it out, inch by inch, breath by breath. Up ahead there is the floor’s former safe zone castle where the area boss now resides. Prepare both of you”

  I kept walking until the fog thinned to a gauzy veil, enough for the castle’s true scale to press against my senses. Its Blackstone walls loomed like the spine of a sleeping giant, towers jutting jagged into the sky, pennants long since rotted away. The air here was heavier, humming with the distant thrum of something old and aware.

  The gates stood half-open, chains torn loose, the wood scarred with claw marks deep enough to fit a man’s hand. From beyond drifted a sound, slow, deliberate, like stone grinding on stone.

  Lawson stepped past them, his voice low but firm. “From this point on, you are in the Bosses’ territory. Stay vigilant.”

  I crossed the threshold, boots crunching on frost-laced gravel. The temperature dropped with each step until my breath plumed white. Shadows pooled in the courtyard, too dense, too still.

  Somewhere above, in the black mouth of a shattered tower window, two points of molten-gold light blinked into existence. Watching. Measuring.

  "Well, that didn't take long," remarked Lawson.

  The air grew taut. A lightning strike hit the courtyard cobblestones with a huge BOOM echoing out! Where the lightning strike had hit a humanoid shape began to take shape, it turned to them, a glowing spear in its hand. Speaking in a lilting crazed tone. "Welcome...Welcome to my humble home, it's been so long since I had guests."