The first was lean, young, and over-equipped: sword, axe, knives, bow, full quiver, and perfectly fitted leather armour. The second was quieter, hands resting on a rune-etched staff that pulsed faintly with magic.
Rock slowed, amused.
“We saw your fight,” the first one said, grinning wide. “Want to join our team?”
James, older than both by a comfortable margin, glanced at Rock.
Rock shrugged. “Your call.”
“Maybe,” James said, noncommittal. “Let’s start with introductions.”
“I’m Edward, this is Ken,” the younger man said, all enthusiastic confidence and zero brakes. “No team name yet. We should have a team name!”
Ken smiled faintly.
“I’m the warrior, Ken does spells, so… Edward’s Fighting Team!”
James raised an eyebrow. “How about you show me what you can do?” he said.
Edward’s hand drifted toward his sword, but Rock cut in. “Not here. Arena or guild yard.”
That shut it down fast.
They turned toward the Guild. James peeled off into the commons, warm light spilling through, the clatter of mugs, the low hum of morning hangovers. Apparently, his gold payment still covered the week.
The quest board was crowded, adventurers jostling for space, but one notice snagged James’ eye:
Bounty: Alpha Wolf (Uncommon) – Death-Marked Card. Bonus for all wolf tokens.
Reward: Guild reputation ×500. 100 gold.
He plucked the notice off the board just as Edward and Ken leaned in over his shoulder.
Edward nodded, undeterred. “Tough one, but with you, we can do it.”
“No,” James said. “Already done. Just handing it in.”
Surprise flickered across Edward’s face, gone a heartbeat later.
James stepped past him and handed the bounty notice, the card, and the tokens to the clerk.
A quiet chime sounded as his name lit up on the Rising Stars board.
James Cooper – Commander – 500 reputation.
Not first, but just ahead of Edward Grant – Warrior – 340 reputation.
Right on cue, the notification he’d been waiting for slid into view.
Card Commander Level 3 – Upgrade Available.
The Greyfang Alpha-Wolf
Edward caught the shift in his expression. “You just leveled up, didn’t you?”
James just grinned. Couldn't help it.
“We’ve got a tradition here when that happens,” Edward said, already turning to the clerk. “Especially if you just handed in a quest.”
The clerk didn’t need more. He grabbed the brass bell and rang it. Loud.
“LEVEL UP!
A chorus of cheers rolled across the commons, followed by the heavy of mugs hitting tabletops in unison.
James blinked, caught between startled and smug.
“You owe the commons a round of drinks!” Edward called, grinning.
James sighed, the good kind. Fine. Rituals were rituals.
He made his way to the bar and slapped down enough silver to cover a round for everyone, himself included. Though instead of ale, he ordered bourbon. Just in case gluten was still the enemy.
What followed was an hour of low-stakes day drinking and better-than-expected banter. Someone broke out a flute. Someone else juggled coasters with minor telekinesis. No one got stabbed.
A rare miracle.
Rock stuck around just long enough for most of the first round to disappear, then shouted the second himself. A wave, a muttered “Back to work,” and he was gone.
The commons didn’t even blink. Apparently, that was just Rock being Rock, the kind of guy who bought the second round and never the first. Which, weirdly, might be why they liked him.
James stuck around for lunch. Edward and Ken stayed glued to his side like burrs, friendly, overeager, and slightly too loud. A little presumptuous, maybe, but they weren’t the only ones.
Others drifted by: faces from the arena, or just people who’d heard. A clap on the shoulder, a raised glass, a grin tossed his way like they'd always known him.
A few lingered at the table longer than the usual congrats required. Friendly enough, but clearly waiting for something.
It took James a minute. Then it clicked.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
He opened the interface and sent one, and immediately got flooded. Secret messages. Group invites. Duel challenges.
James waved off another toast, got to his feet, and headed for the bar.
“I’ll need a standard room key,” he said.
Turns out, he didn’t need one.
“There’s a private chamber for leveling up,” the bartender said, sliding a polished wooden token across the counter. “Free for ten minutes. Runes on the door cut off sound, chat, even scrying.”
James turned it over. Faint glyphs shimmered at the edges.
“No interruptions?”
“None,” the man confirmed.
Perfect.
James slipped into the Commander’s Space.
Time ran at normal speed, and for once, he didn’t mind. This was his first real chance to explore the space, no threat breathing down his neck. The small amount of white noise quickly faded into the background.
The place bent easily to thought, like VR dialled up to eleven. Too easily.
He remembered Bob’s warning and pulled up the settings, swapping out direct mental control for gesture and voice.
The change was instant. The world snapped into sharper focus: textures thickened, weight returned, edges defined. Less thought-soup, more Ready Player One.
“Better,” he muttered, flexing his hands.
One wall lit up with an oversized projection of his remaining Death-Marked cards.
Across the chamber, something new pulsed quietly: a sealed pack, gold trim catching the light. His Level 3 upgrade.
James shrank it to hand-size, ran a thumb along the seam, and decided to do it the old-fashioned way.
He tore it open.
The fresh-pack smell hit him: ink, varnish, crisp cardboard. He grinned. Truly immersive.
Cards spilled into his hands, solid and weighty. He fanned through them slowly, savouring the texture, the slight stick of fresh-cut edges, the whisper of cardstock sliding against cardstock. Some repeats. Some new.
And one silver-bordered card practically screamed look at me.
A gold-trimmed upgrade card shimmered into view beside it, already inscribed with new data.
Level Up – Card Commander (Level 3)
- Might:
- Agility:
- Endurance:
- Mind:
- Perception:
- Will:
- Presence: +1
- Agility:
Looking at the stat boost made James tingle with anticipation.
Below that, three sections fanned out in glowing script: UtilityEnhancementTriggers
Utility
Slot Options – Choose One:
The same two original options were there:
Summoning Awareness
Card Info
Two new cards hovered before him: Bond NurseryJail Wing
His first instinct was Jail Wing
Was he really about to build a private prison?
And if he did… What would that say about him? About the kind of Commander he was becoming?
He imagined that type of prison in the hands of his enemies. He would judge anyone for having it.
“No,” James muttered. “Not me.”
He conjured a little waste bin and flicked Jail Wing
He didn’t need it. But damn, it felt good to throw it away.
Bond Nursery
That felt right.
He exhaled. A weight lifted off his chest.
Beer. That was the next order of business.
James shaped a mug, filled it with the foamy amber brew Bob had once mocked up, and drank deep. Cold. Bitter. Far from perfect. He would need to practice.
“Alright,” he said, setting it aside. “One down.”
Enhancement
Slot Options – Choose One:
The silver-bordered card floated closer, smug in its inevitability.
Command Self
Apply one of your active card enhancements to yourself for one hour.
James grimaced. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. No other choice, but still gotta pick it. Come on, system.”
He tapped it anyway. The card flared and fused with the gold frame.
Two down.
Trigger
Slot Options – Choose One:
He flipped through the options:
One caught his eye: .
He smiled. Auto-buffs at the start of a fight? Walk in already juiced. Awesome.
“Yeah,” James confirmed aloud. “That one.”
The choice burned itself onto the ornate card.
All three slots now glowed, complete. The gold frame pulsed, waiting.
James looked at it for a long moment.
Then he pressed his palm to the surface.
“Lock it in.”
The ornate frame dissolved into light, soaking into his skin like warm water.
Level Up – Card Commander (Level 3)
Agility: +1
Endurance: +1
Mind: +1
Perception: +1
Will: +1
Presence: +1
Trait Bonus Applied – Focused Enhancement (Basic)
Summons gain +1.5 to all stats (0.5 × Level)
Inventory Slots:12 total
Maximum Death-Marked Deck Slots:9 total
Maximum Bond Slots:3 total
Maximum Active Cards:3 total
Trigger: Utility: Enhancement:
James sagged back into the chair, a goofy grin spreading across his face.
That’s when the stats hit.
Oh yeah. the stuff.
James’ ten minutes were nearly up, so he dropped out of the Commander’s Space.
Now that he had a private sanctum for Squire, a cardless haven where she could rest and grow, it was time.
Time to let her meet the world.
He reached into the pouch.
Tiny teeth immediately sank into the pad of his thumb.
“Okay, yeah. I deserved that.”
He winced, but didn’t pull away. She gave one more disgruntled before scrambling into his palm, fur warm and slightly rumpled from nap-mode.
“Alright, alright,” James murmured. “You’re not a secret anymore. Let’s go.”
He stepped out of the levelling room and back into the commons.
Everyone was still there.
Edward. Ken. A third face he half-recognized from the Arena, a human, sleek build, eyes full of playful danger, like she might laugh or set the room on fire just to see what happened. A dwarf who looked like he wrestled trees for fun. And an elf, tall, silver-braided, sipping something pink and fizzy from a stemmed glass.
All of them turned when he appeared.
And… they smiled.
Not polite smiles. Not tavern-nod smiles.
It hit him sideways.
These people, people who barely knew him, looked at him like he was already something.
A commander, maybe. A leader.
Then Squire peeked over his fingers.
The elf’s expression transformed. “Is that… oh, look at her!” she exclaimed.
A ripple of joy passed around the table.
Another round of drinks followed.
Someone pulled up a stool. Someone else slid a piece of dried meat across the table.
Squire sniffed it delicately, then pounced, her tail flicking as she claimed her prize.
The next hour was all scraps and laughter.
Squire prowled the tabletop like it belonged to her, investigating cups, stealing crumbs, climbing a dwarf’s arm like a tree trunk. When someone whistled, she darted across three shoulders to investigate. When someone else snapped, she ignored it completely.
But she always came back to James.
She’d leap down into his lap like returning to base, curl for a few seconds, then bound off again.
Magic, maybe. Or maybe animals were just different here.
Back home, a squirrel like her would’ve bolted first chance she got, scaled the nearest post, and vanished into the rafters.
But this one?
She stayed. . With him.
Squire had loosened something tight in his chest. Not all the way. Just enough to breathe.
And that, more than the drinks, more than the respect, made James sit a little straighter in his seat.
He missed the assessing looks circling the table.
More soon!
??? System Update: Squire has attempted to eat the silver-bordered card.
It was not food. This is now a known issue.