Punching rocks was painful.

  I mean, yeah, I’d tried shadow boxing at first, but after half an hour my arms barely felt tired. I didn’t feel as if I was getting anything useful out of it. I was used to having a punching bag.

  And nothing in my [Hoard] seemed to serve as one. There were rags, rocks, empty boxes and tubes from the storage room…

  No fitting punching bags.

  And so I punched a rock wall and bit my arm so hard after I broke the skin.

  The pain was sudden and sharp, then dull and throbbing. It was more painful than beating up that metal door had been. I was dealing less damage to myself with each successive blow, but it hurt.

  I tried not to let it deter me. Grabbing an old shirt from my [Hoard], I tore off strips and wrapped them around my knuckles hoping it’d do something to reduce the sting.

  I threw jab after jab into the sharp surface of the stone wall, starting light and progressively allowing myself to hit harder until I felt something crest over the edge of my already strained tolerance that made me cry out.

  I yelped as I waved my aching hand, staring at it and seeing scuffs and cuts around my knuckles and fingers.

  Nothing broken, I didn’t think, but they were definitely beginning to bruise.

  I could deal with bruises. I hadn’t gone through everything I had in the last few days to balk at the sight of bruising.

  I didn’t even consider using a health pot. I simply got back to work, figuring out my tolerance level and punching just below that, occasionally allowing myself to punch faster, or perhaps with a little more power.

  Eventually, my fists became so sore that even a light touch stung. Still I hadn’t seen a skill increase on the horizon. I had no idea how close I was.

  And so I began to throw kicks. I positioned most of my weight on my left leg and began to throw my right at the hard, unforgiving surface.

  It didn’t ache much at first; I continued kicking. I felt a dull pressure reverberate through my leg and up to my glutes, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

  Then I accidentally smashed my ankle into the wall and hopped in a circle like a maniac, swearing and shouting the whole way.

  After a time spent rubbing my ankle, I decided my right leg was deserving of a break and began to strike with the other.

  I was more careful with my form this time, preferring accurate kicks to rapid ones.

  I didn’t manage to repeat the same disaster on this leg, but I could only keep the task up for about five minutes before I needed to stop.

  I was caked in sweat. My whole body was sore from repeated impacts, plus the ache of my muscles following the intense workout.

  A Power Stone was real tempting right now. Swinging a pickaxe was one thing, but when the weapon was your own body, when you risked, no, accepted pain and damage every time you attacked your stationary opponent, a power and adrenaline boost really was a desirable thing.

  But I didn’t cave. I knew I didn’t need a Power Stone to continue.

  I went back to using my fists. Ow. I quickly gave up on that prospect.

  I switched to palms, a hard part of my body I hadn’t really used before. I struck the bastion of stone relentlessly, blood dribbling down my hand from a fresh cut as I battered and slapped the rockface until my hands, too, grew tired and spent.

  It hurt lifting my arms at this point, but between elbow and knee strikes… I didn’t trust myself to knee a stone wall and not damage something, even with my [Fortitude].

  So elbows it was. I was going into unfamiliar territory now; I’d only ever practiced punches and kicks growing up…

  Here’s hoping this did something. I couldn’t keep repeating the same strikes infinitely—I lacked the endurance. I needed to make this drill work for me, otherwise I was going to be stuck doing this for days, maybe more, and I didn’t know how I’d manage to work if I was constantly inflicting these injuries on myself.

  I might also have to face the reality that hitting a wall wasn’t going to increase my [Unarmed Combat] skill any time soon. Hitting the door hadn’t increased it before, and while I levelled my skill in a fight shortly afterwards, I had no clue whether my wailing on the steel door had contributed much to me attaining that level, or if the live combat situation had done a lot more to push me towards making that gain.

  I knew it was possible to raise [Unarmed Combat] through combat drills. I’d levelled it whilst hitting a flour sack once. But those levels had been slowgoing. Age and inexperience were likely a factor, but I had a feeling the progress would have been slower either way.

  It was possible I might have to fight someone, I considered as I pummeled my forearms into the wall, one after the other, ignoring the discomfort.

  That was a risky prospect in of itself. Almost everyone down here was likely stronger than me.

  Some might be less combat experienced though. I fancied myself being able to fight at least someone in this place.

  But that person might be group affiliated. They might attempt a reprisal. Some form of revenge.

  Could I pay someone down here to spar with me? I had a lot of gold…

  And reveal that I had gold to pay them with? That was a stupid idea.

  In all of my ponderence, lost in consideration, I barely noticed the notification flash up in the corner of my vision.

  I blinked, heart pumping as I read the gold text.

  It… wasn’t what I’d been expecting.

  [Pain Tolerance: Level 1 Attained!]

  Pain… tolerance?

  I reread the name a couple of times, then decided to give it a test.

  I punched the stone wall with my still-sore fist.

  …nope. Still hurt like hell. Maybe a tiny, miniscule amount less than before?

  Or maybe it was just a bit more bearable?

  Guess one point didn’t make much difference. Still, it was something. Plus another skill I could eventually combine.

  I went back to elbows, but eventually grew tired of the routine. My arms ached. My legs ached. My shoulders ached.

  While I’d managed to gain a new skill, I couldn’t yet see much use in it, and I felt somewhat frustrated that I hadn’t managed to raise [Unarmed Combat] to ten. I really wanted to combine it with something.

  I suppose I’d expected the growth to be easier. I’d gotten so used to rapid skill acquisition that the prospect of not being able to do something all at once was bothering me.

  Realistically, most of my level five skills had been reached years ago, and the soft-cap had only just been removed. That plus the extreme situations I was putting myself in was probably more responsible for my rapid skill increases than anything.

  Expecting to go up a full level in an hour was silly. My body couldn’t improve half as fast against a stationary target as it could against a live opponent.

  But it could improve. I was sure of that. I’d continue doing this until it did.

  It might take one more session, or two, or five, but so long as I continued to apply everything I knew and worked hard at it, I was sure I’d see that notification sooner rather than later.

  For now, back to the camp. I had no idea what the time was, but I knew I needed a couple hours’ rest before the day started in earnest.

  My legs clamped up during the walk back, but I managed to deal with it.

  When I arrived, Toar was the only one that seemed to be awake. Everyone else was either missing or crashed out.

  I tried not to let his presence bother me. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure whether I was more scared of him or angry, but I decided not to let either feeling win out.

  I’d made my case strongly. As far as I was concerned, short of going to another group and praying they didn’t exploit me harder, this was my bed.

  Time to lie in it.

  “You look like shit,” Toar commented as I stepped right past the fire and took a seat opposite him.

  I was attempting to keep my distance without seeming skittish; whether he saw that or not, it made no difference.

  “Where’d you get off to?” he demanded.

  “Why?” I asked him. “Trying to get me somewhere quiet so you can shut me up?”

  “Not at all,” Toar said, shaking his head. “Listen.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as Jackal stirred. “I know the situation we’re in. You tell them what I did, it looks terrible on me. You go missing all of a sudden, it looks even worse. I’m not planning to kill you.”

  “Oh, joy,” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible. “What a weight off my shoulders.”

  “It should be,” Toar commented. “I could do it real easy.”

  “So how do you wanna progress from here?” I asked, trying my best to cut through the bullshit, not gracing his veiled threat with an answer. “Figure something needs to happen now.”

  “I think you made it pretty clear where you stand,” Toar said. He scratched the back of his head, mane tussling. “I figure I should be honest with you.”

  “That’d be a first, wouldn’t it?”

  “Look,” he said, his expression soft. “I didn’t want to do that shit to you, but it’s happened now. You can think what you want about me.”

  “You knew about my signing bonus,” I pressed, considering ‘honesty’ was on the table. “How?”

  “Overheard two staff talking about your contract,” Toar explained. “It sounded juicy. Main reason I picked you up despite your complete lack of skills.”

  He doubled back. “Well, I shouldn’t say that. Lack of a class. You obviously have skills. How the hell did you survive down there, anyways? That shit’s impressive.”

  “Not the point,” I replied, shooting that conversation down before it started. “What I wanna know is how long you were planning to rip me off.”

  “From the start,” Toar admitted. He shrugged. “It’s hard down here. This group ain’t exactly top quality, providing for these guys is a constant pain in my ass.

  “I figured with a couple of those superior health pots and some bribe money, I could set things up to take down another group leader. Improve all of our positions a little. Make it so we didn’t have to live off scraps anymore.”

  “So you ripping me off was meant to be noble?” I inquired, barely resisting a loud scoff.

  “It was meant to be simple,” Toar said. He sighed. “I thought you’d just shit yourself and do it. Didn’t expect you to go all Hellwalker on me and take off like that.”

  “Hellwalker?”

  “You’ve never heard of her?” Toar inquired, looking genuinely shocked. “Not the point.” He shook his head. “Look. Think what you want about me. Truth is, I am trying to do this for everyone, but I’ve also got a lot of pressure to succeed. My family—”

  “I don’t care about your family,” I interrupted, anger overcoming fear. “Enough of the buddy shit. Tell me what you want.”

  “I would’ve paid you back for those potions,” Toar insisted. “You might not believe me, but that’s true. For any of your gold I had to spend, too. You would’ve been compensated later. I pay what I owe.”

  “Yeah. Because you’re so friendly and nice.”

  Toar ignored that. “That’s still on the table. If you want it.”

  “If I want what?”

  “Hand your signing bonus over,” Toar said, like it was the simplest thing in the world, his tone light and jovial. “I’ll pay you back when I can. I’ll keep you safe from other groups, make sure you earn well, and we’ll both end up better for it down the line.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still trying this.”

  “I’m trying the diplomatic approach,” Toar said. “It’s what I should have done in the first place. I’m sorry about how I approached things at first. I know that you have no good reason to trust me.

  “But I’m telling you—”

  His tone darkened. A growl seeped in.

  It was subtle. But it communicated everything.

  “—if you say no to this, you’re just gonna make things harder on yourself. I don’t have to kill you to get what I want.”

  I nodded. Allowed his words to marinate for a moment.

  Eventually, I opened my mouth:

  “Okay. You done?”

  Toar said nothing. He didn’t seem sure how to respond to that.

  “While we’re being honest,” I started, “let me say a couple of things too.

  “First off, I’m not scared of you,” I continued, half a brazen lie and half the godshonest truth.

  “And second, after what you did to me, you’d be lucky if I gave you a drop of that potion. You could have your legs chewed off and I’d still have to think twice.”

  Toar didn’t react with the anger I’d been expecting. Instead, he grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

  “Well, I’m glad we both know where we stand.”

  He patted the log he was sitting on twice. “Get some rest. Maybe ask Maisie to fix your bruises—gods know what you do out there.”

  He rose to his feet. “You’re starting early tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready to work hard.”

  With that, Toar took his leave.

  ***

  I slept surprisingly well for the next couple of hours. I’d thought I’d be plagued by worries, but honestly, I felt I’d come away from the conversation the winner.

  Toar could make whatever threats he wanted, but if hard work was the best threat he could come up with, then he clearly didn’t know me.

  I wanted to get stronger. The more work on my plate, the faster I’d get there.

  Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t somewhat wary.

  Toar had already proven he wasn’t stupid. He’d shown me multiple faces in only a couple short days. I knew what he was capable of.

  I needed a plan to get him off my back. I’d already begun formulating one. The details were going to take some time to iron out, but they were there.

  Either this was going to be something I could weather, or I was going to do something drastic. Those were the only two paths that laid ahead. I was not going to be pushed around anymore.

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  “Rise and shine, asshole.”

  I felt a rough hand smacking me on the side of the head, messing up my already messed up hair.

  “Morning to you too,” I groaned to Jackal, opening my eyes to be graced by too-bright light and a collection of miners all gathered around me.

  “He up? Good.”

  Toar pointed at me. “We’re splitting up today. I’ve gotta go talk with Cerrick, but I’ve scouted out some mining spots for each of you, and I want all of you meeting quota today. Got it?”

  There was a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘yes boss’ with varying levels of enthusiasm. It was easy to denote who was a morning person.

  “I’ll be leading you all out in twenty. Eat something in the meantime.”

  With that, Toar fucked off, and I released a breath. Jackal kept staring at me.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” he asked, pointing a finger. “I thought Maisie healed you up last night.”

  “I got busy,” I answered as cryptically as possible.

  “Hey, Maisie! This dumb fuck went and hurt himself again!”

  Jackal seemed like a morning person. In fact, he always sounded as if he had energy, whether he was a beacon of positivity or not.

  Maisie, from her groan and lumbering gait, was decidedly not a morning person.

  …or an any time of day person, considering her sleeping patterns.

  “You,” Maisie demanded. “What the hell did you do to yourself.”

  “Got busy.”

  I felt a slap land on my arm. It wasn’t hard, and thankfully wasn’t somewhere I’d bruised, but it was still enough to shock me.

  “Real answer,” Maisie insisted. “It’s my mana you’re spending to heal yourself, so I’d appreciate the truth.” She squinted at him. “Why are you covered in bruises, Adam?”

  Maybe she was worried Toar had done something to me. I wasn’t sure. If it alienated the group from him more, I didn’t exactly mind them thinking that.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to lie to her. I wasn’t sure if it was some magical compulsion or just the demanding look on her face, but I caved.

  “I was punching walls,” I mumbled more than said.

  “...punching walls.”

  Maisie had a face like I’d just told her the sky was green.

  Which, come to think of it, it was here.

  …either way, she didn’t look very impressed.

  “What, you never punched a wall before?”

  Maisie looked doubly not impressed at my attempt at humour.

  In fact, I think if I was a wall, she’d be one more annoying comment away from giving it a try.

  “Why were you punching walls, Adam?”

  Something about how she spoke had the simultaneous effect of making me feel immature, selfish, and stupid.

  I tried to ignore that.

  “Well…”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Ceri commented from over by the fire, where she was tossing a pan filled with meat and eggs. “He was probably training, or something. Why else do you think someone would punch walls?”

  That was actually on the mark. Point to Ceri. I wasn’t sure if it was obvious.

  “Why would anyone train like that?” Maisie wondered aloud.

  “Yeah… that sounds like a weirdly fucked up way to train,” Jackal concurred.

  “I think it sounds cool,” Finn muffle-spoke through a mouthful of sausage, walking past the fire.

  “Don’t encourage this,” Maisie said, batting at his arm as he passed.

  “He don’t need encouraging. Look at him,” Jackal said. He whistled as I stood.

  “Jeez. Your legs too. You were kicking that shit?”

  “Punching. Kicking. Elbowing. I even tried palm strikes.”

  “Iskala warriors perform similar training,” Ceri said, flipping the contents of the pan as she spoke. “My uncle used to headbutt stone blocks and regularly punched holes in trees.”

  “Yeah, cause that sounds sane,” Jackal mocked. “What’d he do for fun, eat glass?”

  “Nah, mainly live mammals,” Ceri shrugged, flipping the pan one more time before pulling the contents from the flames.

  “Remind me never to visit your family,” Jackal said.

  “They wouldn’t like you anyways,” Ceri said. “Way too gamey.”

  With that, she thrust the pan down, the contents still smoldering inside.

  “There you go. Eat up.”

  “Yeah. ‘Cause I’m fucking starving after that conversation.”

  “Your loss.”

  I tuned out their bickering as Maisie started to tend to my wounds.

  “I’m only doing the biggest ones,” Maisie said. “Just tell me what hurts most and I’ll fix it. Healing all of this would take too long. Plus, you’re an idiot.”

  I regarded her with a shake of my head. “It’s fine,” I said. “I can move around just fine.”

  To prove my point, I pulled myself to my feet, groaning as I did so.

  Okay, it wasn’t fine, but I didn’t wanna leech too much of Maisie’s mana. I hadn’t realised this would take that heavy of a toll on her energy, and I couldn’t exactly go ahead and tell her I had a healing potion either.

  In the end, I lied and said I only had a couple of bruises that really hurt and let her heal my knuckles as well as my swollen ankle.

  Once again, the strange feeling of mana suffusing my body washed over me. It seemed a bit more recognisable now, somehow. As if ever since I’d consumed my first Spirit Stone, I was able to more accurately sense the intrusion of foreign mana into my body, rather than just feel things out based on discomfort or relief.

  Nonetheless, she dealt with the worst issues, and while I still ached and had some bruises I’d rather be without, she’d made things far more bearable. I thanked her, and she simply admonished me. Next time I went around punching walls, she wasn’t healing me.

  Well, shit. So much for free recovery. I’d have to be careful how far I pushed myself next time.

  “Where’s Marcois?” I asked as Maisie went over my ankle a second time, her arms quivering a little as she wove a thread of mana and tried to reduce the last of the bruising.

  “Apparently, he wasn’t feeling so great after what happened with you guys yesterday, so he’s taking a day off,” Finn explained.

  “Good thing, too,” Jackal snickered as he picked at a bit of meat. “This whole pan would’ve been gone already, metal and all.”

  Ceri snickered.

  “You’re lucky he’s so friendly,” Finn noted, tying his shoes as he spoke. “He could snap you like a twig if he wanted.”

  “If he sat on me, sure.”

  Ceri laughed.

  Before long, I’d eaten some breakfast and the lot of us were heading out.

  Ceri was a pretty good cook, all things considered. The food wasn’t terrible either.

  Or maybe I was just far too accustomed to gruel.

  Our group walked as a unit, pulling carts behind us, trekking five minutes from our encampment before Toar pointed at a cavern off to the left, complete with a set of scaffolding that led to a higher level.

  “Maisie, Finn, you two can tackle this area. The usual. Prioritise shimmerstone, but grab any blue or red ores you find. sixty pounds minimum, or I’m gonna assume you were sleeping on the job. That means you, Maisie.”

  The two of them headed off pretty quickly, seeming to know the way. I was assuming they’d mined there before.

  “Where next?” Jackal asked.

  “Not far.”

  Less than ten minutes later, we arrived at another spot. This time, it was a smaller tunnel that I couldn’t see the end of.

  “Jackal, Ceri, you’re in this one. You’re looking for anything golden and glowing. No brown ores. They’re basically untouched, so clearly no one wants ‘em. Twenty pounds. Make sure it’s not trash, either.”

  “Just us?” Jackal asked as the two of them stepped ahead, wheeling a cart behind him.

  “Just you two,” Toar nodded. “Rat gets his own spot.”

  “Damn, get you,” Jackal snarked. “Have fun getting rich, I guess.”

  “He’s not getting rich,” Toar chided. “Just something more suited to his experience.”

  “Oh, so he just gets easy work instead. Got it.”

  “Careful.”

  “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

  With that, the two of them walked on and I was left alone with Toar.

  Great.

  “What’s the trick this time?” I asked.

  “No trick. I have three spots that need mining. Yours isn’t far.”

  We didn’t walk much longer. Honestly, if he’d tried to send me anywhere that looked remotely sketchy or off the beaten path I’d have fought back or ran a mile, but the area he’d picked out looked just as mundane as everywhere else in the vicinity.

  It was a small tunnel with a dead-end, around which there were plenty of glowing ore deposits and a few crystals, though those were up high and completely out of my reach. An empty cart sat nearby.

  “See the red stone?” Toar asked, pointing.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “That’s ariline. I need eighty pounds of it.”

  I gave him a long look.

  “That’s it?”

  “Huh?” He looked at me suddenly, as if he was zoned out. “Oh. Yeah. You could grab some of the silvery ore, too. Some of it’s valuable. Some isn’t. Focus on the ariline first.

  “Eighty pounds. If you’re not sure if you’ve got enough, shoot for more.”

  With that, he left me and my cart behind.

  I pulled my cart over to the mining area, unsure what to say.

  I was surprised at how small the demand was.

  Sure, he’d asked for a higher volume from me than he had from either of the pairs that he’d sent off to work together, but I’d still expected a more ridiculous request. Something in the hundreds.

  Maybe I was underestimating how long mining eighty pounds of ariline would take. Maybe I was in for a pretty rough ride here.

  It was also steadily occurring to me that I needed to check in on my new spider minion and see if it’d stuck around, or if the massive thing had decided to go missing again.

  A creature like that seemed useful, and more than anything, it was a good means for me to test the uses and limitations of Control Stones. I made a mental note to look for the creature before the end of the day.

  That decided, I placed down my cart and started grabbing my tools, gearing up for the task ahead.

  This area had been mined before, but was nowhere near picked clean. Same could be said for a lot of this cave. While there were clearly some rooms that had been ground down and stripped of everything desirable, there were plenty of pockets like this that had worthwhile bits of metal, and some were even within walking distance of our encampment.

  I took to a particularly large piece of stone with my chisel, stabbing down and attempting to embed it, then striking at the area with a hammer.

  I was half-expecting the rock in this area to be really tough, too much so for me to break through.

  It was dense, but nothing I was in any way unprepared for. The rock fell away fairly easily. My pick struck true. It took time and it took effort, but over the course of almost thirty minutes, I was able to unearth my first deposit of ariline ore, sparkling and glistening like ruby in the light.

  It was beautiful, honestly. It shimmered brilliantly in my hands as I moved it around, catching the light at all different angles and casting a rainbow prism around me.

  I’d never seen colours move quite like that. It took me a minute to stop marvelling at it beneath my light crystal and place it into my [Hoard].

  Once I did, I got a description.

  [Ariline Ore, surrounded by Cestar Slate. Medium purity. Used to artificially reinforce precious gems and increase their durability. Occasionally used as a magical conductor. Purity denotes effectiveness of use. Weight of slab, 4.7lbs. Approximate value between 15-75 silver per pound (depending on yield).]

  That was interesting… I removed the ore and placed it down into the cart, noting a slight increase in my [Hoard]’s progress bar as I did so.

  I was still pretty far from advancing my [Hoard] to level three, but it was good to see it go up. I’d make sure to put every slab I harvested inside before I left this place.

  That being said, that slab had weighed less than five pounds. I was meant to gather eighty before I left.

  That meant I needed fifteen similar pieces, and that had taken me thirty minutes…

  I decided to go for a bigger slab this time.

  Larger pieces were more difficult to get out. I also wasn’t certain about the structural integrity of this wall, so I didn’t attempt anything crazy. There was a massive slab to the right of me that looked incredibly tempting, one which I imagined at the very least weighed twenty-five pounds, but I worried that attempting to remove it might leave me buried under rocks.

  I’d learned in my recent experience that removing big pieces of wall could trigger more to tumble down. I took my time and carved out areas that seemed to jut out as much as possible, rather than going deep and picking at places that might hold the wall aloft.

  It was slow work, and often, the ore I worked on was stubborn. My arms still ached from my recent training, and it didn’t take long for the burn in my muscles to veer towards unpleasant, but that didn’t deter me from the task at hand.

  It took another half hour for me to pull out a second stone… 8.3 pounds. That brought the total to thirteen.

  The next slab of ore came faster, though I could scarcely tell the difference, my arms turning numb as I swung the pickaxe side-on, not willing to raise it fully, finding it easier to swing underarm at this angle.

  Thankfully, picking away the ore around it seemed to make this part come out easier, and even better, it wound up being the largest piece yet. Another eleven pounds were added to my cart, bringing the total harvest to twenty-four.

  Not bad in just over an hour… if I could maintain this pace, I’d be finished in under four.

  But maintaining this level of effort wasn’t realistic. I chose to take a five minute break, knowing that pacing myself was best. I drank from a waterskin. I fanned myself to cool down. I slowly stretched and twisted my body to try and get the existing kinks out…

  I got back to work. Incorporating the hammer more this time. Trying to break up dodgy chunks and make it easier to get in with the pick.

  At one point, I had to jump back sharply to avoid a gang of falling rocks. I was glad I’d chosen to take breaks. If I was as sluggish now as when I’d been training my [Pickaxe Mastery], I’d have come away from that with a concussion.

  That said, even the rockslide turned out to be a benefit. Two new chunks of ore had fallen neatly down with the rest of the rocks, giving me 3.4 and 4.2 pound slabs to add to my total.

  It took forty-five minutes to dig out the next piece. I was being more wary now, understanding that mistakes equalled accidents—even in spite of that, the work was tolerable. I could handle the effort of repetitive swings assuming I gave myself enough breaks. I could deal with the ache in my shoulders if I let myself be loose enough.

  I didn’t feel remotely as exhausted as I did yesterday. Food in my belly likely made a difference, as did proper sleep and breaks, but I wondered if my new [Pain Tolerance] skill was paying a minor part too.

  I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that two and a half hours into my work, I’d seen a notification pop up.

  [Pickaxe Mastery: 4 > 5.]

  That’d been a fair bit faster than the last time. Considering that each skill level seemed to take longer than the last, I took that as a sign that working in better conditions really was doing wonders for me. That, and I was beginning to assume my theory about the efficacy of my actions really was legitimate. If I’d been mining worthless slate, I might have been progressing more slowly.

  Despite my misgivings about how long it’d take me to complete my task, I was able to get up to the eighty pound total within what I’d estimate was less than five hours.

  I… probably should’ve spread it out to like, six or seven. Then I might have ached less.

  But… looking out at my freshly filled cart made me feel satisfied.

  If this was meant to be a test of what I could withstand, I’d passed it with flying colours.

  I thought about going ten or twenty pounds over the total, just as a victory lap… but I was already pushing it. As it was, I was pretty sure I could get through these aches without asking Maisie for another heal. I didn’t wanna go further and abuse that goodwill if I could help it, especially seeing as I might need it in future.

  So, feeling satisfied with my work and with my haul, I grabbed my cart by the end and started to do the intense job of pulling it back to my camp.

  I made it about fifty feet before I was stopped.

  “Who the fuck are you, kid?”

  “What are you doing in this area?”

  “This is our territory.”

  Oh.

  Oh, fuck.

  Three miners were walking up to me, none of whom I recognised. All human, all angry.

  It took me a few addled moments to realise what might be happening. I could only hope not.

  “I’m with Toar’s group. I was told to mine in this area, I thought—”

  “Halfshade?” one of the miners spat, as if it were a curse. “That pussycat?”

  The other miners looked between one another as if they’d heard a bad joke. None of them looked impressed.

  “Toar doesn’t have territory here. He doesn’t have territory anywhere.”

  “Well, maybe there’s been a mix-up,” I tried, not having to feign ignorance. “I could have him talk to your leader and—”

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence. Mainly because a punch had landed in my gut.

  Okay. Guess we’re doing it like that.

  I swung for the guy in the middle immediately. He was bigger than me—they all were—but he hadn’t been expecting me to come flying at him in response to his attack.

  He crumpled like a sack of shit, clutching his jaw as he hit the floor.

  The other two looked surprised, but they didn’t give me a chance to capitalise.

  I was punched in the jaw. Once, then twice.

  I managed to dodge a strike and smack one of them with the back of my fist. The middle kid got up as I drove my palm into another’s face. I caught a kick to the back of the leg and hit the floor, turtling and putting my hands over my face.

  I felt myself being kicked from all sides. Existing wounds were worsened. New ones quickly formed.

  I grabbed at one of their legs, desperate, and yanked as hard as I could.

  He tumbled, and I clambered up to try and get a good shot at his face, but I was dragged away by the other two before I could land a decisive blow.

  “Arrogant little bastard,” the leader snarled, kicking me two or three more times for good measure.

  I gasped as I felt my ribs quake under the force of his strikes. I was winded. It was difficult to breathe.

  Still I attempted to stand.

  “Stay down.”

  I took a moment to catch my breath. The beating had stopped.

  The leader grabbed me by the lapels of my jumpsuit.

  “Tell your beastkin master that the next time he sends one of his dogs down here we’ll fucking—”

  The mouthy asshole didn’t get to finish his sentence. Mainly because I headbutted him.

  “I’ll tell him,” I wheezed, taking solace in the high-pitched wail as the older boy clutched his nose.

  I earned a few more kicks for that. Maybe more than a few. I was left there feeling more like roadkill than a person.

  Then again, I also earned something else:

  [Unarmed Combat: 9 >> 10. Hardcap reached.]

  Hard to call it a silver lining, right now. Too angry for that.

  It took a laboured sip of my superior health pot—the last dregs of the first—for me to get back on my feet.

  It didn’t heal everything. There were only a couple drops left. It was enough for me to feel human, at least.

  I didn’t use it lightly. I couldn’t stand otherwise. I was so dizzy I wanted to vomit.

  As soon as my mind started to clear, as soon as I noticed the missing cart, I felt an ironclad desire burn its way into my mind.

  It was ugly. It was profane.

  It was necessary.

  Toar had orchestrated all of this. He’d shown just what he was willing to do to me if I didn’t comply with his demands.

  That was fine. If he wanted to play that game, then we’d fucking play it.

  And I’d win.

  you can read six weeks ahead on my Patreon!