The road to Riverbend was basically a war crime disguised as transportation. Every pothole felt like a personal attack, and the Trailbinder lurched through washouts like it was actively trying to kill us. Rain hammered the cart's roof while we bounced around like dice in a cup.

  By the time we reached Riverbend's gates, my entire skeleton felt rearranged.

  Half a dozen Vildar scurried out to greet us, practically vibrating with excitement.

  "My ass is ," I groaned, dismounting like an old man. "Mana or no mana, that was torture."

  Cass hopped off the opposite side—straight into a mud puddle that swallowed her boot. The splash was magnificent. "Fuck!" she bellowed, going down hard into the muck while rain poured over her like cosmic punishment.

  Red bounded over, tail wagging like this was the best entertainment he'd seen all day. Cass hauled herself upright, glaring at the mud coating her armor.

  "At least it's still raining," she muttered, trying to scrape off the worst of it.

  An Albinus Vildar broke from the pack at the front of the village, rushing toward us with squeaky enthusiasm. "Oh, Hunters! Are you here for the Lumifrax problem?"

  "We are," Cass replied, snapping into business mode.

  The Vildar practically glowed with relief. "Lady Cassandra! I'm so happy to have you. Where's Chas?"

  "No Chas today, Lou," Cass said, jerking her thumb at me. "This is Breaker Ben Crawford, Acolyte. He's got the job bill. And that's his familiar, Red. He's a dog."

  Red tilted his head and panted like he was confirming his species. For good measure, he gave what could only be described as a dignified nod.

  "Uh, hi," I said, feeling spectacularly lame.

  "The Breaker!" Lou nearly tripped over himself. "Please come into town! You must be exhausted. Let's get you comfortable chairs and tea—"

  Cass and I exchanged horrified looks. More sitting? After that cart ride from hell?

  "No thanks," Cass cut him off. "We need to scout the Lumifrax location. Point us in the right direction?"

  Lou blinked but nodded eagerly. "About six spans that way." He gestured toward a distant valley. "They've holed up there, but be warned—the landscape's evolving into swamp. The smell is... ."

  We set off down the hill, boots squelching in mud. The steady rain filled the silence until I finally cracked.

  "So now that I've found Valor," I said carefully, "does that mean I'm going to Sylvarus?"

  Cass snorted. "Gaia's tits, no. Finding a Seal candidate is the easy part. Actually binding it to your soul? That's a nightmare. Felix and Chas always say with enough time and mana, you can find all sorts of them. But aligning your soul with it?" She shot me a side-eye. "That takes forever. Well, for you? Who knows? Asshole."

  I laughed. "Good. I didn't want that conversation when we got back. You and I are working together on this—that was the deal."

  "You bet your scrawny ass it was." She pointed ahead. "Oh hey, look!"

  The hill leveled out, revealing ruins of intricately carved stone. Moss and grime covered everything except the immaculate statue at the center—a naked woman with hair flowing like liquid stone, framing wide hips and a dramatically exaggerated bust.

  "It's Gaia!" Cass said reverently. "Just look at those tits."

  I snickered, then reality hit me like a brick. Gods were real in the Multiverse. This was an actual deity.

  "There's no way," I shook my head. "Look, we have gods and beliefs on Earth too. The name Gaia isn't new. But that?" I pointed. "Goddess or not, she's... cartoonishly top-heavy."

  "Cartoonish?" Cass raised an eyebrow.

  "Like someone drew her with exaggerated features for entertainment."

  Cass shrugged, walking closer and placing her hand on the statue's base. "This statue's been here longer than the city. There are dozens worldwide, according to Nana. Gaia is our people's namesake—she created us in her image. At least, the first ones. We're descended from them."

  The grass gave way to mud as we continued, then thick muck as the incline steepened.

  "Who were the first ones?" I asked.

  "They made Ark, I think. The statues around the farm are of them—looked like Gaians, or I guess even Terrans, too. But they're long gone. Died off with the Gods, if Chas and Nana are right. More to add to the research list."

  I processed that bombshell. "Wait. Nobody thought to mention the Gods are dead? I just found out they were real, and now I find out they're gone. Fantastic."

  Cass shrugged. "I don't know much. Felix would rant about it right now. Or ask Nana—she knows more than anyone."

  "Noted," I said, running my hand along Red's head as we walked. Perfect petting height, ears twitching. "I've got questions for her. And for Chas."

  "If he ever fucking comes back," Cass muttered.

  We walked in comfortable silence. Lou said six spans—roughly three kilometers. Rain slowed, the clouds thinning enough to reveal the sun's position. The terrain grew softer, the scent of damp earth and decay intensifying.

  A smell hit like a physical wall—thick, sour, choking. Pure rot, like everything had decayed simultaneously. I gagged, pulling my shirt over my nose.

  "Is that the swamp? Ugh." I squinted through the trees, seeing nothing. Even Cass's face twisted in disgust.

  Then, suddenly, the smell vanished.

  I glanced at Red, who stood panting innocently, tongue hanging out, like nothing had happened. Wide-eyed, tail-wagging enthusiasm that screamed either innocence or guilt.

  "Red, was that you?" I asked. "What the hell did you eat?"

  Cass laughed so hard she had to stop walking. "That was rancid, Red. Even I smelled it."

  Red looked proud. Tail wagging harder. I shook my head, moving upwind. If this dog could produce smells like that, I was staying clear.

  The real swamp came into view soon enough.

  The stench returned—a faint warning of what lay ahead, but lingering this time. Trees twisted unnaturally, trunks gnarled and slick with grime. The ground became muddy, then shallow standing water. Rainforest sounds gave way to something different—a strange, high-pitched warble like crickets, but wrong.

  "This place sucks," I muttered, scanning the area. Bravery dropped to five meters in the armor—barely enough to feel safe. Instincts screamed to push for Valor, extend my senses, but the mana cost wasn't worth it. Not yet.

  "Monsters warp the land around them," Cass whispered. "Enough in one place, they leave impressions. That's why we hunt them—to keep things from spiraling out of control. Stop here."

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  Red's paws were submerged now, fur bristling as he growled low.

  Twenty meters ahead, a basketball-sized frog sat on a rotting log, dark skin shimmering with glowing blue patches. Deep blue eyes locked onto us, unblinking.

  "Oh... shit," Cass whispered as more frogs appeared. They glowed faintly, perched on trees, logs, and in water all around us, and a canopy blocking out the sun.

  The warbling stopped.

  The sudden silence was deafening. Only the soft rain pattering on the canopy above remained. My chest tightened, Bravery flaring warning just as something shot toward me—a whip-like tongue from above, wrapping around my arm before I could react.

  Cass didn't miss a beat. Her swords flashed, cutting through the thick tongue in one fluid motion. Purple ooze sprayed everywhere. A massive frog fell from the branch above, thrashing in the water as she finished it with brutal efficiency.

  The dead frog stench was dizzying—thick, hanging in humid air. Cass was a whirlwind, slicing through monsters with swift, deliberate movements, but I noticed she was missing a glove, with only one sword remaining.

  Red had retreated, visible in the distance. My brief glance cost me mana as Bravery flared a warning. Two attacks came simultaneously, forcing awkward dodges.

  These Class-F Lumifrax were proving as dangerous as the Carapax I'd faced. Surrounded, even with armor, I couldn't react fast enough. With movements sluggish, every spear swing heavier. I was struggling.

  Despair flickered at the edge of my mind. For the first time, Bravery faltered. Focus broke. I tripped dodging a tongue that snapped past my head, crashing into shallow, murky water, rolling and scrambling to get up.

  The stumble was enough. Tongues lashed out—one around my arm, another coiling tight around my leg. Gritting my teeth, I impaled a leaping frog with my spear. Its body jerked violently before going limp.

  "Shit," I hissed, twisting to deal with the Lumifrax on my leg. Mana-infused punch to its head. The creature exploded with a wet, nauseating pop, spraying purple goo across my face. I gagged but kept moving.

  Cass darted across the battlefield, feet skimming the water's surface as she danced between monsters. For every one she cut down, two more replaced it, glowing forms closing in. Fast—faster than I'd ever seen her—but even she was being pushed to her limits.

  "They're swarming! We need to run!" she yelled, voice cutting through the chaos. Wind and water whipped around her as she sliced another frog in two.

  I stumbled toward her, a frantic idea forming. Digging into my earring, I searched among her clothes. Fingers closed on it—a red mana coin.

  Slamming the coin into one of the silvery disc traps from Rainhaven, I brought it out, the device humming to life in my gauntleted hand. Almost immediately, a thick tongue latched onto it, flying into a frog's mouth.

  Cass's eyes went wide. "Oh, fuck!" she screamed, grabbing my hand as the frog started glowing with ominous white light.

  The world twisted violently as vertigo slammed into me. In the haze, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Cass's Swiftness rune glowing brightly. Next thing I knew, we were crashing onto the muddy hill we'd descended earlier.

  A shockwave of white-hot energy erupted from the swamp. The blast lit up the morning sky, roaring through the air, deafening and blinding. My ears rang as I tried to process what had happened.

  I turned to Cass, sprawled beside me in the mud.

  "Wash kit," she demanded, holding out her hand without looking. I fumbled in my earring, retrieved it, and handed it over. With a quick gesture—the purple slime coating her disintegrated into vapor, then inexplicably drifted toward me, clinging to my clothes. I waved uselessly as she tossed the spent kit onto my chest.

  "I'm a slime magnet," I muttered.

  Cass ignored me. "What happened back there? Yesterday, you probably could've taken Erik in a fight. Where was Valor?"

  There was a moment of hesitation. "I think I was... scared," I admitted, realization hitting as I said it. "I haven't felt real fear in a while. But Bravery and fear clearly don't mix. And Valor? It actively resists when I try to use it."

  Cass mulled that over. "Maybe that's on me. After seeing you yesterday, I thought you were on Erik's level, but neither of us are. That was your first time using Valor, right? Even Felix couldn't channel his Seal perfectly at first. We should've been more careful."

  I sat up, picking up the wash kit, inspecting it with mana sight. Completely spent. With a sigh, I slotted in one of my few remaining blue coins, watching the pink bar slowly regenerate.

  "Those mana traps are fucking awesome," I sighed.

  Cass laughed, sitting up. "They're designed to incapacitate Class-E monsters. Smart move, but those Lumifrax? There's going to be mana pearls in there. We'll want to collect them before anything else eats them."

  "Think it got them all?"

  "Probably the nearby ones. We still need to be careful going back."

  I turned, wincing at the dull ache in my arm, catching sight of Red. He stood nearby, tail wagging furiously, in front of a neat pile of glowing mana pearls, a chewed-up glove, and Cass’s sword.

  "Uh, Cass?" I nodded toward him.

  "Huh. That's a useful familiar," she grinned. "Let's head back to Riverbend. Your arm looks like shit. What a disaster of a scouting trip!"

  Once the wash kit recharged, I cleaned off and got to my feet, arm throbbing but functional. Walking to Red, I patted him, scratched behind his ears, stored the pearl pile in my earring, and Cass recovered her things.

  "Good boy," I said, pulling out bread. He beamed up, tail wagging. "I need to find you better food."

  As we started back, Cass broke the silence. "You said Valor resisted you?"

  "Not Valor itself. Bravery doesn't like it when I try mixing it with Compassion."

  Cass stopped dead, staring like I'd announced I could fly. "Wait. You're trying to change a rune while it's bound? Ben, you don't tweak them—you bind the spell as it is. Have you tried turning off Bravery? How long have you been using it?"

  I winced at her incredulous tone. "Pretty much constantly?"

  Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. "How the fuck do you have mana for that?"

  "It doesn't use mana unless I'm reacting to something," I shrugged.

  "That's impossible," she said flatly. "Magic isn't free. If it didn't cost something, people would fly around shooting fireballs for fun."

  It honestly didn't feel like it used anything, but Diana had mentioned side effects. I shrugged again.

  "At least it doesn't drain mana. Diana told me how to turn it off, but it switches back on after a while."

  Cass shook her head in disbelief. "When was the last time you meditated?"

  "With you and Ferris in the tower?"

  She groaned. "Ben, no wonder it's messed up. You need to meditate regularly to stay balanced."

  The Gaia statue came into view, her serene figure an odd contrast to the lingering swamp stench.

  "Yeah, yeah," I waved her off. "I'll get to it."

  "You'd better," she shot back firmly but not unkindly. "Because next time? I'm not dragging your ass out. That speed burst took almost everything I had. If my path had been wrong, I could've shattered my leg."

  Her words hit harder than expected, stopping me mid-stride. Why was I being so casual? We'd just been in legitimate danger, mostly because of my negligence and bravado. Guilt washed over me as I took a deep breath, focusing inward. Easier with armor—Bravery's aura seemed dampened. I let it flicker out entirely.

  The world shifted back into dull focus, like I had just put on sunglasses.

  No heightened senses, no warning pulses. Just me, standing in the rain, feeling everything as it was. I opened my eyes to see Cass staring, expression softening as uneasiness settled in my chest.

  "I'm sorry, Cass," I sighed. "I have no idea what I'm doing. Meditating when we get back sounds like a great idea."

  Her face shifted to something genuine, usual sharpness giving way to warmth. "Wow. It's like a physical change. You turned it off, didn't you?"

  I nodded. Red pressed against my leg, sensing my discomfort. His steady presence was grounding as we continued up the hill.

  Riverbend gave us a small hall, and Cass insisted I meditate immediately.

  It was raining in my soul. I couldn’t escape it.

  "Kid. Hey, kid?" Ted's voice cut through the downpour as we stood in the courtyard, staring at massive doors. He held what looked like a martini glass filled with swirling neon-blue liquid, topped with a tiny paper umbrella and fruit wedge.

  "Sorry, Ted. Weird day," I said, shaking off distraction. "Bravery is messing with my soul, isn't it?"

  "Wouldn't say messin' with it. More like you're diggin' for somethin'." Ted climbed onto a railing, leveling his gaze with mine. Behind him stretched the endless ocean. He sipped his absurd drink, somehow managing to look thoughtful. "Bindin' the Seal to the door is step one."

  "But it doesn't use mana," I pointed out. "Magic isn't supposed to be free."

  "Ha!" Ted laughed sharply, gesturing with the glass. "Kid, Bravery ain't about mana—it's spirit magic. Spirit magic doesn’t need mana; it needs a soul. And guess what? You got one, so..." He made a vague gesture and whistled like that explained everything.

  "Spirit magic is different?"

  "Oh, believe you me, kid," Ted said dryly. "Valor? You picked yourself a doozy. Radiance, Courage, Compassion? Infinite multiverse of possibilities, and that's the cocktail you went with. And that one loves mana. Like a lot." He held up his drink for emphasis, the neon liquid swirling ominously. "Can't say I'm surprised."

  "You don't agree? You're supposed to be my spirit guide."

  "Guide, not boss. I ain't here to tell you what to do," Ted replied, hopping off the railing toward the doors. Another sip, smacking his lips. "I'm here to help you open that door. You just made it really tough on your old pal Ted."

  "I've known you exist for less than a week," I muttered.

  Ted scoffed. "I don’t even know what a week is, but look here." He pointed to two undulating runes on the door, glowing faintly on each side where doorknobs would be.

  "These showed up when you bound Valor the first time. Not just holdin' it—when you really got it. Binding Valor properly. Right now they look like unreadable garbage."

  The runes seemed familiar, meanings just out of reach, like words on the tip of my tongue. They didn't form recognizable language but gave the impression of a palace, symbols representing its name. The connection tugged frustratingly at my mind.

  "Alright," Ted said, glancing at the now starry sky. "It's gettin' late. Here's your homework. Ready?"

  I nodded, still staring at the runes.

  "Think about Valor. Think about who you are. What do they come together as? Give it a name, give it purpose. That's step one in finding your path. Just remember you ain't cool enough to be Gandalf." He tipped back the rest of his drink, sighing contentedly. "Oh, and practice more with a staff, for fuck's sake."