A flash of wind tore leaves from their branches, entirely clearing the smaller plants, shrubs and mosses surrounding my body.

  Before the wave of power moved further, I reined it in, down to a couple hundred stats.

  If Dena felt that, she wouldn’t hold back. In fact, my whole strategy to beat her was probably already ruined.

  Somehow, that didn’t feel like such a bad thing.

  Space distorted in a line, cleaving the trunks of trees down the middle with cuts so effortlessly clean they produced no sound whatsoever.

  Her scythe was beside my head, pointed into my neck.

  And I had stopped the blade with my bare hands.

  Dena dropped her scythe in shock, staggering backward.

  Because I planted both palms on the sides of the blade, and not on its edge, I hadn’t been cut. Since I hadn’t been cut, I hadn’t died. Simple.

  Dena cast an ability, returning the scythe to her hand.

  She was obviously taking this seriously, right from the start.

  But the more I thought about it, the more I really wondered how dangerous “taking it seriously” actually was.

  Sure, additional stats, abilities, and levels offer advantages beyond the area cap, but to what point? Surely, in my current state, with abilities that had no place in the tutorial area, I stood a chance, didn’t I?

  Shouldn’t I?

  She flicked her blade across the forest, cleaving everything before her. But the attack that had seemed instantaneous was now a cloud of energy. Fast, yes, but dodgeable.

  Instead, I was due for a change of tactics.

  Why pretend to be weak?

  My eyes snapped open, and the forest shook. The trees swayed against the wind as I squeezed every last drop of power and focus into my body.

  My body had adjusted to the increased pressure of the second area. Only after leaving it could I properly feel the difference. Everything felt like paper. At the slightest touch it would blow apart.

  Dena flickered around with a teleportation ability, buying time to charge up another, faster attack. The raw mana distorted the air, matching the first attack she’d used. I simply followed the movement of her mana.

  Dena looked up. Right as I drove my knee into her forehead.

  {Dena (-1131320) 1000 Hp}

  There was nothing around us.

  Trees, plants, animals, rock and earth were laid bare in a half-mile radius of crackling energy and scorched earth.

  The pain of my blow broke through her defenses, though just for a moment, and I grabbed her scythe. Four quick, effortless cuts later and I’d earned myself another stack of bonuses.

  One hundred and thirteen.

  I left ground zero and sat down, allowing myself a moment of peace.

  The pressure in my mind tightened up into knots, followed by a rush of emotion.

  {Notice}

  [You have suffered (436) instances of [Shock]]

  [Once you have reached a stabilized mental and emotional position, [Shock] will be automatically processed.]

  [Until [Shock] is processed, there may be mild emotional and behavioral inconsistencies]

  From there, things went on as usual, with some blood and corpses, bright flashing lights and a headache afterward that’d last for at least a day.

  Nothing I hadn’t dealt with before.

  I took a breath in, then out.

  Finally, my mind relaxed, and I could think like a rational human being again.

  I hesitated.

  “What just happened?”

  After a bit of searching, I found the notification, stating the damage I’d dealt to Dena.

  {Dena (-1131320) 1000 Hp}

  That was one million, one hundred thirty-one thousand, three hundred twenty. Ten times more than I was supposed to deal. Something similar had happened in the second area, hadn’t it?

  When? Why?

  I dropped my strength to ten and squashed a little winged bug.

  {Gnat}

  [(-10) -9 Hp]

  Ten damage. As expected.

  Did I seriously do more damage when I was traumatized? That can’t seriously be a thing, right? Right? This game’s pretty bad about dealing with trauma, but it couldn’t be so bad as to make shock a battle mechanic.

  Of course not. Meaning this power has another source. I’d best guess something to do with the second area.

  If not, I took a mental note to test it out the next time I got traumatized.

  Now, I had places to go and people to free. The rest could wait.

  Asiel met me outside the crater, glancing at my stats while I explained what happened to Dena. As before, she gave me an odd look, before nodding and moving on.

  Before she went, I remembered something.

  “Asiel?” I asked. “How do you break a slave collar?”

  “Slave collars?” Asiel scoffed. “Easy. Just use a little will and elbow grease, that’s all.” She started turning to leave, before something flickered through her expression, and she clarified. “Do not try anything unless you’re mentally prepared, okay? Do not. Those collars are built to kill both victim and helper if you can’t stem the willbinder’s enchantment.”

  I blinked. “Willbinder?”

  “Enchantment stuff,” Asiel said, waving the thought away, like smoke from a fire. “The point is you need to have a strong will, and decent control. Which you clearly don’t have.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  I thought back to my testing with the union. “You…sure? I just need it for a first area enchantment.”

  Asiel rolled her eyes. “There is no such thing as a first area enchantment. The second area would be weakest, and even that is beyond you.” She motioned toward herself. “Give me a command.”

  “What?”

  “Did I stutter?” Asiel snapped. “Order my hair to turn purple or something.”

  “...turn purple?”

  She sighed. “Commands, rookie. Try a little harder.”

  Asiel seemed serious, so I focused. “Turn purple.”

  There was nothing.

  Suddenly, a will crashed up against mine, more like a glacier than a landslide. It was slow, but so immense that I was physically flung backward, cracking against a tree.

  Asiel clutched her knees, crying and laughing.

  “What was that?” She cackled. “You’ve got no training, do you? Why bother trying?!”

  The raid captain swiftly regained composure, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Work on that. Stay safe, Rookie.”

  She walked off, trailing her black and red cape over the dirt path.

  “Gee thanks…” I groaned, cradling my head in my hands.

  …

  “RupterShroom!” The merchant cheered, turning the mushroom over and over in disbelief. “You must be quite a lucky fellow.”

  “In a manner of speaking,” I said, dumping the other thirty-nine on his table.

  The merchant made strangled little gasping noises.

  As for the other ten shrooms, I kept those in my inventory. Each did fifty damage and ten might make a difference, assuming they even worked in the second area.

  …

  “Sir?” Madelaid said, struggling to keep pace. “Sir?”

  I weaved through cages and bins, beelining to a familiar area, where a pair of empty chains hung, thankfully unattended.

  Madelaid appeared beside me, breathless—though she still managed a shallow bow before continuing. “Sir, Master Slave Lord Urgot is in his office.”

  She cleared her throat.

  “If I may be so bold, you could order a servant to come and buy from my master, rather than to go through the trouble yourself. I can’t feel it appropriate to have a man of your station troubling himself with us…”

  I gave her a soft, tender smile. “Thank you for your concern.”

  She startled, then bowed deeply again. “Thank you Sir.”

  Around us, other slaves strained against their cages, reaching toward Madelaid. The ones without muzzles or collars shouted or if they were close, spat on her.

  A thought came to mind.

  “Madelaid,” I asked. “I don’t suppose you’re for sale?”

  In the shadows, it was hard to tell which expression she made, but if I had to guess, she seemed flustered. “Sir, I’m Urgot’s personal assistant. I find it unlikely that he would…ever…sell me…sir. But we have plenty of other wares!” Madelaid chirped, gesturing around. I couldn’t help but notice her subtly motioning toward the boys who spat on her, and the girl who still hadn’t stopped screaming.

  Interesting.

  As before, there was something going on here. Something which I’d yet have the time to look into. Sern came first.

  I walked toward the office, only to realize Madelaid was walking behind me, her head down.

  “You can stay here,” I said. “Our meeting will only be a minute.”

  She hesitated. “I’m supposed to introduce you to Urgot, and—”

  “Stay.” I ordered, and she froze. I put on a smile. “Urgot and I need to have a private conversation. Take care.”

  Madelaid snapped back to reality, frazzled, but no longer following. It was for the best. If she cared for him, she shouldn't have seen him die.

  The whole building shook, walls wrenching inside out as Urgot’s body came to a stop, smearing across the length of the Bestiary, flung through a number of walls.

  Deafening silence followed.

  I stepped out of the smoking hole.

  “You’re free.”

  Our “fight” had taken mere moments. This time, I hit him twice, fast, before shattering the potion in his hands. Without that, he died quick.

  Madelaid covered her mouth with one hand, dropping to her knees in shock.

  I walked to one of the largest cages where a familiar boy was kept. He smirked, lounging in the back of his cell. “And who are you?”

  “Nobody in particular.”

  I tore the roof from his cage. This movement also punched a hole in the roof of the main building.

  I dropped Urgot’s ring of keys into his hand. “Free everybody. And don’t lay a hand on Madelaid,” I said. “She’s a family friend.”

  He smirked. “You expect me to listen to a thing you say?”

  “No, but it would be appreciated.” I said. “She’s not in the right mind at the moment.”

  “She never is,” The boy scoffed.

  “Kill Urgot for me, would you?” I asked, tossing him ten gold rings. “Don’t die.”

  …

  Rose squeezed her brother’s hand, staring down into the cup of tea. Both the cups, teapot, and tea itself had all previously belonged to Urgot.

  “Axxxxxeeelllll,” Axel hissed, sipping his cup through his shifting metallic jaws.

  “You can’t taste a thing?” Junior asked, obviously to his sister’s concern. “If the metal jaw makes everything taste like metal, just take it off.”

  Axel made a chuckling sound, taking another drink from his cup.

  “One of these days we’re going to get you a real mouth,” Junior said. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he turned to me, hands bracing himself against the table. “Hey, Master, you don’t have any magic powers that could do that, do you?”

  “I’m not your ‘Master’” I said, for what had to be the fifteenth time. “Just call me Grind.”

  Rose shuddered, inching a little ways away from Sern. “Sorry, uh…Mister…but we can’t be so informal. We hardly know you.”

  The rest of my party nodded, except for Sern, who was asleep. You can’t nod when you’re asleep.

  “Are you scared of me?” I asked.

  Rose shot back. “Yes! No?” She sank back. “Do you want us to be?”

  “No,” I sighed. “I’m trying to take your four somewhere safe. There’s some nature preserves in the second area that I think you’ll like. Once you get there, nobody can touch you.”

  “It sounds nice,” Rose stated. “Why take us?”

  “Because I want to,” I answered.

  She squinted.

  Junior frowned. “That’s a stupid reason.”

  Rose jabbed him in the side. “Shut it. He’s being polite, see?”

  “What was that for?!” Junior snapped. “I’m just saying that doesn’t explain anything. You took one step toward our cage and our names changed,” he pointed to the name tag over his head. “I mean, I don’t mind ‘Better Grind.’ It’s a little presumptuous, sure. But come on, Rose? That’s the most generic girl name I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Stop complaining,” Rose hissed. After a moment, she glanced up to her name and her face flushed. “I don’t mind.”

  “You three picked out those names the last time you met,” I stated. “And once you were near a player who called you that, they automatically changed.”

  “Yeah and that’s the other thing,” Junior grumbled. “I don’t know you.”

  Rose jabbed him.

  “Come on sis,’ aren’t you the least bit curious? I think I would remember a shovel-bearing combat mage with a fabulous eye for young talent.”

  “Aaaaaxxxxeelllll,” Axel groaned, tapping his empty teacup against the table.

  I frowned. “Our meeting was brief, yes, but long enough for your four to make an impression. I promised myself to help you, and I’m not going to stop until that’s done.”

  “Sounds to me like you’ve got a failure complex and you seem to evaluate your worth on your ability to control the safety of the people around you,” Junior muttered.

  Rose snorted. “Fancy words don’t make you actually smart, brother.”

  “One thing to read, sis!” Junior snapped. “Advanced Principles of Psychology. I read the whole thing back to front, over and over! Urgot was all smug about it, saying ‘oh you’ll make a fine servant one day, boy.’ If he’d ever read a book in his life he’d recognize the irony!”

  Rose jolted, glancing around us.

  “Urgot isn’t here,” Junior said. “We can insult him as much as we like, Sis. In fact, I think I know a few ‘fancy words’ that’d suit him just fine.”

  “You can read?” I asked.

  Junior puffed out his chest. “Yes.”

  “Axel,” Axel said.

  Junior hesitated. “What, that’s a good point, but when I say reading I don’t necessarily imply an understanding of the text, though that can be gleaned through diligent attention to conversations around oneself.”

  Rose turned toward me in disbelief. “Sir…are you…laughing?”

  I stood up, wiping a big stupid grin off my face. “It’s just good to have you back, that’s all.”

  I pointed over a shoulder before they got further confused. “Let’s go shopping.”

  // {Notice} //

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