Even though it made him look suspicious, Bunty couldn’t help but repeatedly look over his shoulder. A couple of hours had passed since they started, and the sun’s caressed the oasis’s trees behind them. They were two-thirds of the way over the dunes now, and the temperature was still low. The sands had already started shifting, though. The subterranean worms had already started stirring. They were still sluggish, though, and didn’t concern the pair. Bunty’s eyes kept drifting back to the groups spilling out of the oasis.

The trio of hunters was a distant speck that occasionally appeared as they crested the dunes. Besides them, several similarly dressed parties had also emerged from the trees. Most of them travelled along the path marked in the guidebook. At the same time, the others ventured into the endless sea of sand or towards the crags. It was the latter that bothered Bunty.

The miners from before walked a path parallel to theirs but didn’t concern him as such. They laughed and talked amongst themselves, heading away from them diagonally. Unfortunately, three groups were walking behind them too. The guidebook claimed that miners and brave Climbers often braved the crag’s edges. Apparently, only the foolish and suicidal ventured deeper into the rocks and those that did rarely returned.

Climbers will travel for days to fight a creature in a valley or on the planes but will avoid the beast residing on the mountain top next to them. They’d rather die a hero’s death after a perilous journey than break a bone or sprain an ankle on unfavourable terrain. That’s why the best riches can be found off the beaten path where people are too scared or lazy to roam.

While taking it easy on Jagdish’s vessel, Bunty poured over Neer’s journal from cover to cover, looking for details regarding the twelfth floor’s Omrito. His words were still fresh on Bunty’s mind. Neer’s words hadn’t failed him yet. He’d consistently taken the road less travelled, and Gaia had rewarded him for it. Perhaps they’d get lucky and chance upon a Core to enhance Gwyneth’s spirit. Finding another elemental upgrade was unlikely, but he kept his fingers crossed for something telepathy related.

It was starting to get bright when they stepped off the sand onto solid rock. Gwyneth looked between the dune sea and the path ahead hesitantly. Bunty took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Summon your spirit and keep it high,” Bunty said. “I doubt we’ll need it so soon, but its presence and the sharpened sight will make you more comfortable.”

Before fulfilling his request, Gwyneth scanned the parties behind them once more. None of them was close enough to see the lamp, so she went ahead and summoned her spirit. Her shoulders visibly relaxed once it materialised.

“That’s better.” She sighed. “I don’t feel naked with my lamp by my side. The spear helps too.” She tapped the blunt end on the hard rock. “You’re right, by the way. I’d rather traverse across hard ground even if it requires climbing and descending than deal with the ups and downs of soft sand.”

“It’s not just that,” Bunty said, pulling out the FTF’s compass. “Without one of these, traversing through the crags will be a challenge for most.”

“That’s certainly a bonus,” Gwyneth said. She nodded at the mining party and the pair of local hunters speeding across the dunes towards the crags. “Them lot are a bit too close and keep eyeing us. Let’s get moving.”

Bunty nodded. “I’m more worried about the locals than the miners. Let’s pick up the pace as soon as we’re out of sight.” Then they entered the rocky maze.

The seventh floor either had seasons, or a river flowed through it a long time ago. Narrow passageways ran between the crags with walls marked by changing water-levels. The dense rocks overhead provided shade, so traversal didn’t turn unpleasant as the sun climbed the sky. Distant clicks of pickaxes striking rock or metal grating against stone reached Bunty’s enhanced ears. As the ground became uneven, and traversal involved several ups and downs, the sounds became more distant.

Occasionally the pair encountered steep climbs or sharp drops. The Slimeskin made covering them a breeze. The latter was easier to deal with than the former. When ascending, Bunty couldn’t always throw the tentacles all the way to the top. He’d have to slingshot himself up partway, climb bits of the rock faces, and then pull Gwyneth up.

“Perhaps your next upgrade should be for the barrel or again for the nib,” Gwyneth said. “Something that can launch the Slimeskin over a long distance will make your life a whole lot easier.”

“I’ve been thinking the same,” Bunty replied. “My spirit doesn’t include attack spells as one of the focuses thought. So, the chances of coming across such an upgrade will be low.”

“I’m sure we’ll come across something decent sooner or later. It won’t necessarily be an attack spell. The tentacles already have some degree of elasticity about them. A Core that focuses on increasing that would be ideal, don’t you think?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Once we’re not rushing through floors and taking the time to hunt, I’d like to focus on what I do best: trapping large beasts. It’s the safest way to get valuable Cores, and we can harvest materials from them without too much damage. I wouldn’t want the Slimeskin to get too stretchy for such purposes.”

“What would you like for your next Core, then?”

Bunty shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Let me take some time to get a good feel of this latest upgrade. Once I know my shortcomings, I can think of how to overcome them. When I got the first Core, there was some mention of adding special abilities to my summons. I’d like to figure out how that works, and perhaps follow such a path.”

Bunty paused, helping Gwyneth down a sudden drop. The path divided into three ahead of them. He got his compass out to help decide which direction would be best. Spiderwebs filled the one they needed to take. After the first floor, Bunty refused to deal with swarming arachnids. He rejected the path and picked the one to his right. It appeared to be going upwards and would hopefully let him alter their course ahead.

Worried that Gwyneth would develop bad habits, he had her scale some bits on her own too. He guided her, of course, and had a safety line in case she slipped. Since they still had a long way to go, Bunty didn’t push her too hard. Weapons training would have to wait too. The new spear had the same length as her old one, but the Slimeskin and Spiderleg were much lighter. It wasn’t the best for improving her muscle strength and control, but that was a concern for later.

As they followed the FTF’s compass, Bunty made plans for his future climbing career. He hoped the best for Hina. She had a unique spirit, and he hoped that the Ito clan were putting it to good use. Weight alteration spells would give her a significant advantage over against large beasts. If things went well and she agreed to join his party, climbing would become a breeze. Hina had proven herself above average with a mace but would most likely serve best as ranged support.

Gwyneth was the ranged source of damage. The summons gave Bunty plenty of utility, and the Frost Blade—he hoped—made him a melee threat. If they got Hina to join, all they needed to round off the party was a decent vanguard. A fighter with the stones to stand up front and draw the opponent’s attention would be vital in the third and fourth intervals. Most parties doubled up on the vanguard or ranged attackers. If they had a well-connected or affluent sponsor, they’d occasionally have a healing spirit among them too. He had no idea where they’d score such a party member, so he didn’t get his hopes up. Perhaps he or Gwyneth would get lucky, and they’d find a Core for their hollow spirit that granted them a healing spell.

It was close to midday when it started getting warm. The sun had spent several hours heating the crags, and they were now radiating heat. “How did you know?” Gwyneth asked. Her breathing had gotten heavier, and her breathing had gotten heavier. “I mean, I’ve read about how bad things can get in arid climes, but the textbooks don’t do it justice.”

Bunty fished Neer’s journal out of his pocket. “I take everything my brother wrote seriously. He never failed to paint a colourful but accurate picture.” He decided to spare the canteen and took a sip out of the innkeeper’s waterskin. It housed sweetened peppermint tea. Bunty helped himself to a mouthful before passing it to Gwyneth. “Believe me. Things would be so much worse if we were out on the dunes with no shade.”

“I bet the worms are stirring now too,” she remarked.

“They hunt using vibrations in the sand and can grow as big as whales,” Bunty said. “That’s what the guidebook says, anyway. I’m stupid enough to challenge most threats but not something that I can’t see—” Bunty cut himself short. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Gwyneth asked, going still.

“Running water.” Bunty pressed his ear to the stone wall. It was still cool and was soothing against his skin. “It’s close.”

Gwyneth took the guidebook from Bunty and leafed through it to the area’s map. Its creator had only bothered exploring the crags exterior and not ventured far into it. As a result, they were now in the blank space. However, the map displayed several water bodies flowing through the crags. Most of them disappeared into the blank space.

“It must be one of the streams,” Bunty said.

“Or it could be their source!” Gwyneth exclaimed. “I bet you can make a tidy buck with the FTF if they can monopolise the water supply.”

Bunty didn’t reply. He disliked the idea of any one person having full control over a water supply. Everyone deserved access to freshwater. It was as vital to life as air. The nobles would happily make a profit off basic commodities, but Bunty considered it beneath him. Even though Gwyneth hated the Delawneys, he guessed after all the time together, they had rubbed off on her. He didn’t voice his thoughts, of course. Being compared to the nobles would most likely enrage Gwyneth.

They continued through the tunnels, following the sound of water. Before long, Gwyneth could hear it too. A short descent took them into a deep crevasse lit by the midday sun, and they found themselves at the entrance of a titanic cavern. Light leaked into it through several openings in the domed roof, dancing off the huge pool underneath it. The body of water bubbled and rippled like it were alive.

“It’s so clear.” Gwyneth gasped, rushing over to the water’s edge.

“A beautiful sight, isn’t it?” A female voice asked, making the pair jump.

Bunty’s right hand jumped to the axe at his waist as he spun to his left. It was the mining party from before. Most of them sat not far away with their legs dangling in the water. Only one of them had a pickaxe out now. The rest didn’t carry any obvious tools or weapons—except the one with the bone club. He stood further away from them, leaning against the cave wall and chewing a piece of jerky.

“It is,” Gwyneth replied. It was too late for her to hide her face. She maintained a casual grip on her weapon while her spirit floated close by her side. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s a poorly kept secret among people foolish enough to delve into the crags,” the woman replied. She was the only female in the party. Bunty realised that her clothing didn’t fit a miner or a regular Climber’s on closer inspection. She wore a long cheongsam—a traditional Chinese dress—with a long slit running up the side. “It’s the heart. All the streams and paths eventually lead here. Unfortunately, most people turn back before they make it this far.”

“Gaia hides her beauties from cowards,” the club-wielding man said.

“That’s right, Oss,” the woman replied, waving towards the expanse of flat stone they had claimed. It wasn’t just the woman that wasn’t dressed for mining. One of them wore skin-tight clothing, showing off a petite but muscled figure. “Why don’t you come to join us?”

“Well, enjoy your rest,” Bunty said, smiling. He clutched Gwyn’s hand behind his back and gave it a squeeze. They had made a mistake writing them off as miners. He suspected the pickaxe wielder had replicated his tool to fool them. “We best be moving on.”

“I’m afraid we can’t allow that,” the woman said, smiling. “This picturesque spot will have to become your grave, Bunty Sen.” Bunty’s back stiffened when she spoke his name. “There’s a bounty on your head, and we’re here to collect.”

“Thank you for the melodrama,” Bunty smirked, summoning the fountain pen and a pair of gauntlets. They manifested over his forearms as he and Gwyneth backpedalled towards the tunnel they had just exited. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to jump me after you got my guard down?”

“No.” The woman sighed. “That’s what I suggested initially, but you’ve pissed the client off. He wants you humiliated and beaten before we kill you.” She flicked her wrists, and claws sprung forth from her dainty hands. Her pickaxe carrying companion groaned, climbing onto his feet behind her. The other two jumped into offensive positions, too, while the club-wielder remained passive. “Miss Frie, on the other hand, we’d appreciate it if you stand down. You’re meant to be a gift and would be best left unharmed.”

“You’re as stupid as Edgar,” Bunty said, peeking over his shoulder. He recalled the tunnel being a lot closer. It would take them at least five seconds to reach its safety. “If you’re expecting prey, at least set up a trap for them.” Then he turned, grabbing Gwyneth’s arm in his left hand. “Run!” He exclaimed, pulling her away from the water.

The woman laughed, and the stones slid closed in front of them, cutting off their access to the tunnel. “It’s nothing personal, of course,” she told them before waving to her companions. “It’s a bad idea to anger the rich unless you can afford to fend off their wrath.”

“Close your eyes!” Gwyneth hissed into his ear, and Bunty obeyed. He saw the bright flash of light despite his closed eyelids, and their opponents screamed a moment later.

Bunty and Gwyneth ran along the path, circling the water, heading towards higher ground. Bunty peeked over his shoulder as their blinded foes recovered, measuring the threat. The woman had to be a beast spirit user. Looking at her lithe body, green-yellow eyes, and clawed fingers, it was obvious she used augmentation to turn her body into a weapon. Bunty was sure the pickaxe wielder had a tool-type. The spirit in his hands was glowing for several moments after the rocks wobbled like jelly.

One of the other two coming after they had jumped into the water after the flash. Bunty wasn’t sure what he could do, but the other had already summoned their plant spirit: a tangle of dark-brown brambles. Meanwhile, the club-wielder appeared unphased. He hadn’t given chase, though. Instead, the man whipped his free hand towards them and seconds later, a trio of white spikes flew past Bunty’s head. They struck the stone wall and shattered before falling into several bits of broken bone.

When the pair reached another exit, the sound of a pickaxe striking stone reached Bunty’s ears. The stone around the tunnel entrance wobbled once again before shifting to block off the exit. The pair didn’t let it slow them down. They were rushing up an uphill stretch when Gwyneth stepped on a clump of loosing gravel. She fell on her front, and air left her lungs loudly.

“Separate them!” The attacking party’s leader screamed.

Bunty turned around just in time to see the bramble-spirit user launch thorny spheres at them. Dodging wasn’t an option since it would result in Gwyn getting hurt. He crossed his arms in front of him. “Stiffen,” he whispered, focusing on both gauntlets and his coat. The Slimeskin hardened just in time, protecting him from the thorns, but the force sent him staggering backwards. Gwyneth caught him, saving Bunty from stumbling over her.

“Relax,” Bunty whispered, regaining his mobility.

The augmented woman leapt off the ground onto the wall and launched herself off it at the pair. A skin-coloured tail extended through one of the slits in her dress. Bunty called forth his newest summon while releasing Slimeskin through the pen in his left hand. He first used the tentacle to pull himself and Gwyneth away from her landing spot. By the time the Spiderleg-lined net had manifested, she was preparing for another attack. Bunty waited until she leapt once more and then threw it at her.

The woman’s eyes widened as she realised her mistake, but it was too late. She screamed as the net wrapped around her body, and the blades found flesh to cut. Bunty would’ve liked to run in and put her down. They had come after him with murder on their minds. As a result, they didn’t deserve mercy. However, four others were coming for him now.

The pickaxe wielder had closed in behind the augmenter. Once he caught up to his companion, he raised his tool spirit high above his head before bringing it down hard on the stony ground. The rocks rippled around the point of impact before a wave of stone rushed towards him. Bunty used a Slimeskin tentacle to dodge again. The surge followed him a short distance before exploding. Spikes as tall as Bunty burst from the ground. They would’ve skewered him for sure.

Gwyneth jumped into action when one of the attackers burst out of the water next to them. There weren’t any apparent augmentations or summons at play, displaying what she had used to launch herself at them. Bunty assumed she was an augmenter. Despite his martial combat skill, he didn’t fancy testing himself against a probably twice-upgraded beast-type at melee range. So, he was relieved when Gwyneth unleashed her attack spell.

In most instances, the lightning spell was a pain to aim. It rarely travelled in a straight line on the way to its target and tended to hit off the mark. The added time needed to cast the spell added further challenges. However, the woman was soaked from her time underwater and was flying at them, brandishing a pair of iron daggers. The spell arced mid-air to find her.

It was the first time Bunty had seen the lightning bolt strike someone at close-range. The woman didn’t scream. Instead, she hung in the air for a moment, connected to Gwyneth by the string of energy. Then she dropped back into the water limp and smoking. Not long after, the smell of burnt hair and skin reached Bunty’s nose, turning his stomach.

The bramble-spirit user screamed, charging past the pickaxe-wielder. Thorny spheres emerged from within her sleeve and glowed a bright green. Instead of continuing the retreat, Bunty charged in to meet her. He clutched the axe in his right hand and cast the Frost Blade spell. Following his mental image, the Slimeskin forming his gauntlet’s guard parted, letting the fountain pen’s nib and barrel poke out. Then the oddly shaped blade manifested. Its cold aura came as a comfort to Bunty’s sweaty body, but he didn’t have the time to enjoy it.

A swing of the axe knocked one thorny sphere out of the air, but another struck Bunty’s shoulder. The thick Slimeskin padding wobbled, absorbing the force, but several spikes bit through, piercing Bunty’s shoulder. The wounds weren’t deep, so he had no trouble ignoring them. Bunty staggered, compensating for the attacks force but didn’t fall. Instead, he turned the imbalanced footstep into a spin and chopped at the woman with his axe.

Bunty didn’t expect his attack to go through. The woman had thrown up a wall of woody brambles to block his attack. His swing bit into it but got tangled before making it all the way through. He let go of his weapon, fell into a crouch, and thrust the Frost Blade forward. The brambles were less spread out close to the ground, and his attack shot through the gap. The Frost Blade bit into the woman’s calf.

If the following scream didn’t make Bunty hesitate, he would’ve finished her, but it made his ears hurt and chest tighten. The pickaxe struck stone once more, and a mass of rock grew out of the wall and into Bunty. The force wasn’t sufficient to hurt him as the spikes would’ve, but it pushed both him and the woman off their feet. Her companion caught her, but Bunty came dangerously close to stumbling into the water. He tried to grab onto the brambles, but they turned brittle when the Frost Blade touched them. The wood cracked and crumbled in Bunty’s grip. It was Baba’s lessons that helped him fix his footing and regain balance.

Bunty thanked Gaia. If their foe hadn’t underestimated them, he’d be dead, and Gwyneth captured. Before he could celebrate, the fifth member of the enemy party descended on Bunty, capitalising on his compromised position. If not for his enhanced hearing, Bunty would’ve missed the whoosh of air that followed the giant bone club. Bunty leaned backwards, and the weapon just about missed the tip of his nose. He fell on his back and kicked his feet, scrambling away from the giant man. Up close, he didn’t appear particularly large, but the bone-club was massive. Bunty couldn’t make heads or tails of how a man with dimensions similar to his could wield it.

A wave of exhaustion hit Bunty as he dispelled the Frost Blade and called forth a tentacle. The club-wielder refused to give him a chance to get back up. Gwyneth launched an attack spell at the man, but he blocked it with the bone-club. It singed the weapon but did no real damage. Bunty used the opportunity to lash the wall behind him and then retract the tentacle to pull himself away. He dispelled the gauntlet around his left hand, reclaiming the ink, and summoned another net. Bunty waited until the man charged at him once again before throwing it. He didn’t miss.

Gwyneth helped Bunty onto his feet. She turned to face the attackers once more, but Bunty grabbed her hand and shook his head. Two of them were tangled in nets. One lay on the ground clutching their leg, and another’s motionless body floated in the giant pool. Only the pick-axe wielder remained upright and was staring at them with hesitant eyes.

“Conserve your energy,” Bunty said. He pointed at a nearby tunnel.

Gwyneth nodded, and they ran.