We were still waiting for Marco to finish getting patched up when the quiet crept back in.

  Not the good kind. The kind that leaves room for thoughts.

  I stood a little apart from the others, fingers laced too tightly together, eyes drifting back to the trampled ground where the fight had happened. Blood darkened the leaves. Broken branches marked where the bodies had fallen. Evidence of violence. Of competence.

  Of things I hadn’t done.

  I swallowed; my throat tightened.

  I hated this feeling.

  Yes, I had helped. Technically. A resilience ritual, a bit of preparation, a whisper of power handed to others who actually did something with it. But when the gorgs charged, when the stones started flying, when people could have died, I had stayed in the back.

  Protected.

  Useless.

  I loved ritual magic. I truly did. There was something beautiful about it, about shaping intent, about the versatile power and careful design. But loving something didn’t make this gnawing sense of impotence go away. I didn’t want to just support power anymore.

  I wanted to have it.

  My gaze drifted, unbidden, towards Elias.

  He was standing calmly, posture loose but eyes sharp, like the fight had barely taxed him. Probably it didn’t at all. I had seen him earlier that morning too, in the camp, dismantling gorges like they were nothing. He hadn’t just defeated them. He had used them as target practice.

  Dominated them.

  It wasn’t even a close fight.

  I don’t know if the others truly understood how much he had changed since the beginning. How terrifyingly fast he had grown. And yes, part of that was the Baron leader he killed. That achievement alone had warped the early curve for him.

  But that wasn’t the whole truth.

  His most dangerous weapon wasn’t his magic.

  It was his mind.

  He took risks, but never blind ones. Potions, cursed items, experimental fights, pushing past comfort. Everything was calculated, weighed, and tested. He was hungry. Desperately so.

  For power, maybe.

  But I didn’t think that was all.

  He was searching for something. I could feel it every time he looked past the horizon, every time his attention lingered on the system messages longer than necessary.

  And then the thought hit me, sharp and obvious in hindsight.

  How did he even afford all that in the beginning?

  I frowned.

  He had bought so much. He had likely acquired skills, items, and knowledge in addition to these. Even if cursed items were cheaper, they were still expensive. Too expensive for someone just starting out.

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  Now that I thought about it with a clearer mind…

  I could just ask him.

  The idea made my stomach flutter, nerves sparking for no good reason. Still, I squared my shoulders and walked over before I could lose my nerve.

  “Elias,” I said softly.

  He turned immediately, giving me his full attention. That alone eased something in my chest.

  “I was thinking about the fight,” I began, then hesitated. “About… my part in it.”

  He didn’t interrupt. Just waited.

  “I don’t want to stay in the back,” I admitted. “I know my rituals helped, but it’s not enough. I don’t want to be protected. I want to matter when things go wrong.”

  He studied me for a moment, then smiled. Not indulgent or dismissive. Understanding.

  “I expected that,” he said simply. “I didn’t bring you along thinking you’d stay where you are.”

  That surprised me. “You didn’t?”

  “No,” he replied. “I brought you because I’m sure your ritual magic scales in ways we don’t understand yet. You just haven’t found your lever.”

  My heart thumped a little faster.

  “I was also wondering,” I said, pushing on while I had the courage, “about achievements. About points. You grew so fast. I was trying to understand how.”

  He hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, that is an easier question to answer. I sold my clothes, a really expensive watch and a bottle of rum when we started. As I told you, I was a lawyer, and I was following a case that was aired on TV, so that day I wore my best suit; it cost me nearly eighteen grand, you know? So when I sold it together with everything else, I got around six thousand points to work with.”

  I stared at him. What the hell? He had so much; that’s how he managed all those potions and items…

  Quinn interrupted my thoughts. “What the fuck, man! You could have shared a bit; that’s pay to win if I ever saw one!”

  ”Should I have shared my points with every stranger in the room? I didn’t know anyone except Sara, and she’s a neighbour I barely talk to. So I got the thing that I thought could help me the most, even if I regret not buying more skills honestly, but I will be able to rectify that mistake at the next safe zone. “Anyway,” he said, looking back at me. “To answer your other question, the baron achievement won’t be accessible for you right now. We don’t even know where to find another one. And even if we did… the strength gap would be more than dangerous.”

  I nodded, disappointment flickering.

  “But”, he continued, eyes drifting briefly towards the forest, “that doesn’t mean you can’t get something comparable.”

  He looked back at me, focus sharpening. “Didn’t you kill the gorgs with the ritual before?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly. “But I didn’t gain any level; it was a ritual for healing, and I think the system didn’t recognise me as the one who killed them. I got no experience from it.”

  A glint of excitement showed on its face. “Then, could you modify it?” he asked. “Or make several rituals. Use the hearts again, maybe, or something. We could gather reagents, and you could create so many rituals to overwhelm even one of those wendigo-like monsters Quinn talked about.”

  My breath caught.

  I hadn’t thought that far. But now that he said it…

  “I… maybe,” I murmured. “I don’t have much left. And I spent all my points on rituals and fundamentals. I have no offensive skills at all.”

  He waved that aside. “You don’t need them.”

  I felt my thoughts start racing. Could I really do it? Hearts as anchors. Multiple lesser circles instead of one major ritual. Harmonisation and layered intent. Traps instead of direct confrontation. Maybe, it could work.

  I must have gone quiet because suddenly his hand waved in front of my face.

  “Still with us?” he asked, amused.

  “Yes!” I blurted. “Sorry. I was thinking. I think I can create something. Maybe.”

  “Good,” he said. “What level are you?”

  I hesitated, cheeks warming. “Still… level one.”

  I braced for surprise. Or pity.

  Instead, he just smiled.

  A dangerous smile.

  Stormy eyes glinting with something that made my pulse jump.

  “That’s perfect,” he said.

  Perfect?

  “Harvest the hearts,” he continued. “Modify the ritual. We’ll find the right spot to set a trap. After I deal with a couple of these monsters, I’ll know if what I’m thinking is viable.”

  He leant in slightly. “And if it works, Rhea, we’ll get you an achievement big enough to push your class forward properly.”

  He winked.

  My head spun.

  A monster that made Quinn flee. Me. A ritual strong enough to trap or kill something like that.

  Fear flickered. Sharp and real.

  But underneath it… excitement bloomed.

  Wild, dangerous excitement.

  “What if it’s not enough?” I asked quietly.

  “Then we intervene,” he replied without hesitation. “You won’t be alone.”

  I nodded, heart hammering.

  What if it worked?

  What if I succeeded?

  The rituals I could build after that. The doors would open. The way my magic could finally bite back.

  I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face.

  “Alright,” I said. “I’ll start preparing.”

  Elias chuckled. “Those hearts won’t harvest themselves.”

  So I got to harvest the hearts.

  It was disgusting. Bloody, ugly work.

  But as my hands sank into warm, viscous flesh and I pulled free the first heart, I didn’t feel sick.

  I felt in control.

  20 chapters ahead!