“What are you doing?” asked Abby, cutting through Zeke’s concentration. She leaned against the wall of the cottage, her forearms on her knees. Pudge lay beside her, his paws draped over her hip. For Zeke’s part, he sat near the center of the cottage, a pile of discarded rocks beside him.

He looked up from the rock in his hand, saying, “Experimenting.”

“It looks a lot like you’re just staring at rocks,” said the woman. It was nearly morning, and neither of them had gotten much sleep that night. Unlike Zeke, Abby hadn’t even really tried, instead trusting to her constitution to keep her alert. That was one of the many benefits of the new world; sleep wasn’t nearly as necessary as it had been before. They needed a little – Abby more than Zeke, due to the differences in their stats – but in a pinch, they could push through that necessity with few repercussions.

Zeke said, “I’m putting runes on the rocks. If they work like they’re supposed to, they’ll explode when they hit something with a decent amount of force.”

Abby eyed the pile of rocks beside Zeke; he had hundreds more in his spatial storage. Once they had a plan for dealing with the drachnids, they’d had nothing left to do except prepare. So, they’d spent most of the day before gathering ammunition for Zeke. He’d been toying with those rocks all night.

“Wait, what?” she asked. “What kind of runes? You’re a crafter?”

Zeke shrugged. “Sort of? I have an artisan path for runes,” he answered. “It gives me some understanding of what different runes do. One of the guys who were hunting you had some interesting arrows on him. They were kind of weak, but there were these runes etched onto the arrowheads that when they hit, they caused this wave of…force.”

“Concussion arrows,” Abby said. She’d seen them before, but even though archery was her primary focus, she’d always discounted them. They were weak, only really useful against lower-level enemies.

“If that’s what they’re called,” he went on. “I beefed up the rune a little, but it still wasn’t very strong. Maybe it would stun a drachnid for a second, but it was still too weak.”

“Yeah,” Abby said. “That’s the problem with trick arrows like that. They’re an interesting concept, but they’re not all that useful.”

“Right,” Zeke said, discarding his rock into the pile. “That’s exactly what I thought. Until I found Julio’s sword. Did you know it had the ability to catch fire?”

Abby rolled her eyes. “A party trick,” she said. “He’d use it to impress women. He’d go into a bar and wave around his flaming sword, and inevitably, there’d be some naïve girl who thought he was something special. By the time she’d realize he was a creep, it was too late. Or at least that’s what I heard.”

“Right,” Zeke said, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. He was incredibly innocent at times, especially when the subject of women came up. Not that Abby blamed him; when she was his age, she hadn’t been terribly confident around men, either. It was one of the reasons she’d ended up with her husband. In any case, Julio’s antics had been mostly benign, if it wasn’t for the fact that, on those occasions when he didn’t manage to pick up some idiot girl, he would resort to other, less savory methods of satisfying his urges. Even when his victims survived – and that was rare enough, according to rumor – they were broken women. But Julio had been a powerful member of the guild, and as such, he’d been untouchable.

Until Zeke came along.

“Anyway, I decided to combine the two runes,” Zeke said, drawing Abby away from her thoughts. “It’s kind of cobbled together, and it won’t last more than a day or two before it becomes too unstable. I think the problem is that rocks just aren’t good for this kind of thing.”

Abby eyed the pile of rocks. There were probably a hundred or so fist-sized stones there. “You’re saying that that entire pile is…what? Magic grenades or something?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he said. “But they’re safe for now. You have to power them up before they’ll work.”

“But there aren’t any markings on them,” she said, fighting the urge to inspect the rocks more closely. If what Zeke claimed was true, then he’d just done something that nobody else could do. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. She’d heard about an alchemist in Salvation who specialized in magical bombs, but even if he was real and not just some story, all of his skills probably revolved around it. For Zeke, though, it was almost an afterthought.

“Not really necessary,” he said. “For temporary items like this? An external rune would be overkill. Besides, I don’t really have any tools for that kind of thing.”

Abby just shook her head. She’d known that he had some understanding of runes, but it seemed that his knowledge extended much deeper than she expected. It shouldn’t be all that surprising, given that he’d already demonstrated the ability to unravel a curse. Also, she knew from experience how much help a martial path could give an adventurer. Her own archery path hadn’t just given her attacks more power; it had been a veritable injection of knowledge that had fine-tuned her entire approach to archery. Apparently, an artisan path was no different, albeit with a non-combat focus.

But then again, Zeke had already incorporated his knowledge of runes into combat, hadn’t he? Abby wasn’t certain, but he’d hinted that he could unravel curses while fighting. Without a skill, that was completely unheard-of, and it made her wonder how many truths that she had so far taken for granted weren’t as ironclad as she’d been led to believe.

“So, they explode?” she asked, pushing those esoteric thoughts to the side. They were hours away from assaulting the drachnids, and she couldn’t afford the distraction.

“I haven’t tested them yet, but I think so,” he said. “If I’d had another couple of days, I would’ve gone back a few miles and done some test runs. But I have a feeling we need to get this done as soon as possible, or we’re going to get overrun.”

That much was probably true. They’d only been in their current location for two days, and already, the drachnids had swarmed almost a half-mile closer. It was as if they were reproducing at a rapid pace so they could replace the drachnids they’d already lost. Which was ridiculous. More likely, there was a warren of caves near the end of the canyon where the majority of the monsters lived.

“You’re probably right,” she agreed.

As dawn continued to creep closer, Zeke continued creating his runic rocks while Abby began her mental preparations. If the need arose, she could be combat ready in an instant. However, when time permitted, she liked to put herself in the right frame of mind for wholesale slaughter. It was a combination of focus and putting distance between her active mind and whatever part of her felt empathy for all living creatures. The drachnids were monsters who had murdered hundreds of people. She had seen the evidence. But that didn’t mean she would enjoy killing them. At best, she would feel a sense of accomplishment for the success of the mission. At worst, she would dwell on thoughts of the sort of world where it was necessary to slaughter an entire community of semi-sentient creatures.

Not that Abby would let it affect her. She was well past that. Any hesitation to do what was necessary had been scoured clean the moment she’d seen a monster kill an ally or butcher an innocent bystander. She had lost too many people. But she could never enjoy killing, even if she acknowledged its necessity.

Finally, the sun rose. Pudge roused himself. And Zeke announced, “It’s time. Are you ready?”

Abby nodded, gathering her bow. She stood, stretching sore muscles before saying, “Let’s do it.”

Zeke quickly sent the pile of rocks to his spatial storage before the trio – man, woman, and bear – exited the cottage. Abby smothered her fire, ending her [Makeshift Camp] skill while Zeke dismissed the cottage. She would never get used to that, regardless of how many times she saw the small house poof into thin air. It was one more casual display of strength that Abby still hadn’t grown accustomed to.

After making sure the campsite was clear, she, Zeke and his companion began the mile-and-a-half long walk to where they would begin their assault. The plan was simplicity in itself. At first, they would focus on ranged attacks, with Zeke taking the brunt of the attention. Once the drachnids swarmed, he would wade in and do his thing while she peppered them with arrows. In short, it was the same plan that they’d used countless times before, except that Zeke would begin the fight by throwing his runic rocks as opposed to simply charging in like some crazed berserker.

Abby wished they’d have had more options. If they’d had more people, they could’ve set up a more complicated plan of attack. But they were just two adventurers, and thus, their options were limited. Three, if she counted Pudge, which she didn’t. The bear cub was powerful for his level, but he was still only level seven. He couldn’t take a single drachnid on his own, much less survive within a horde of the monsters. He wasn’t useless – often, he finished off the monsters Zeke left maimed – but he wasn’t self-sufficient yet, either. That was only a matter of time, though. Abby suspected that, eventually, the bear cub would grow to be just as powerful as any adventurer.

Eventually, they made their way to the rise where she would be positioned. The small hill sloped down into a basin within the canyon. In the center of that depression was a huge pillar of rock, probably thirty feet wide and at least a hundred feet tall. It was covered in webs and pockmarked with tiny holes; Abby could see the small, furry forms of spiders scurrying along its façade.

“Do you wonder why all the drachnids are gathered up like this?” asked Zeke. “They’ve been like this for two days. Probably longer.”

“I think they’re massing for a strike,” she said. “There’s a pretty sizable village about forty miles away. San’gin, I think it’s called. Maybe they’re tired of hitting caravans.”

It was a horrifying prospect, and it only cemented Abby’s resolve. If there was one thing about her new life that she had no doubts about, it was her resolution to protect people who couldn’t protect themselves. Certainly, there was a part of her that looked down on these people who refused to fight, but the rational part of her brain told her that not everyone was built for the life of an adventurer. The vast majority of people only wanted to live their lives in safety and comfort. Just because Abby could never be happy like that – she’d tasted that kind of life before, and it hadn’t worked out well – didn’t mean that nobody could.

“Then that’s it, then,” Zeke said. “We can’t call this off now, even if we wanted to.”

If they had nothing else in common, she and Zeke shared a need to do what was right, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. And failing that, to avenge them. It was one of the reasons they were so comfortable together.

“Alright – I’m getting into position,” he said. “Keep Pudge safe.”

Then, he took off at a jog, careful to remain concealed from the horde of drachnids as he cut across the canyon floor. The plan, as simple as it was, required them to attack from different directions. If everything went the way they hoped, the majority of the monsters would swarm Zeke, who was tailor made to survive that kind of situation. Meanwhile, she would rain arrows down upon them from afar. Pudge would remain with her because Zeke didn’t think he could guarantee his companion’s safety. Abby suspected that he’d convinced the bear to stay with her by asking the cub to protect her.

Idly, Abby reached down and scratched Pudge’s neck, just where he seemed to like it. Otherwise, she remained still, watching the horde for any indication that she had been discovered.

None came. For long minutes, she watched diligently until, at last, Zeke began his assault.

The explosion was powerful enough that Abby felt the vibrations, even hundreds of yards away. Zeke had lobbed the rock right into the middle of the horde, and where it had hit, a four-foot crater had suddenly appeared. Blood, gore, and pieces of drachnid geysered into the sky before raining down on the army of monsters. Only a second later, another rock sailed into their midst, exploding with impressive fervor. The effect was almost like a grenade had gone off, except instead of sending out deadly shards of metal that rode the concussive force of the blast, the rock was vaporized by the explosive combination of runes Zeke had etched upon them. More rocks fell among the monsters, each one taking a drachnid or two with it.

Instantly, Abby saw the issue with the rocks. They were effective, so long as they hit a monster directly. However, if Zeke’s aim was even a little off, the blast radius was too small to truly injure the creatures. Luckily, Zeke’s claims of baseball prowess hadn’t been mere boasts, and his skill quickly became apparent.

The only problem was that there were so damned many of the monsters that even firing the rocks as quickly as he could, his efforts made little difference. Soon, the monsters homed in on his location, and all at once, they surged toward him.

That was Abby’s cue.

She rose, smoothly summoning a silvery arrow and firing. Her aim, guided by the instinctive understanding of archery granted by her path, her [Gust of Wind] skill, and over seven years of experience, was unerring. Each conjured arrow slammed into a vital spot, felling a drachnid. With her concentrated fire along with Zeke’s bombardment, they drachnids died in droves.

But it wasn’t enough.

Soon, Zeke’s bombardment petered out, and Abby knew that the drachnids had finally reached him. They’d paid a terrible price – dozens of the monsters lay dead, their pieces scattered across the basin. But there were so many that the horde seemed unfazed.

A contingent of drachnids broke free, angling toward her. Abby smoothly shifted her focus, peppering them with arrows. But she could only fire so quickly, and the skittering monsters could cover ground in a hurry. Moments later, they were upon her.

Abby darted to the side, firing arrows as quickly as she could pull her bowstring. It was an impressive display of skill that she could hit anything at all, but her aim still suffered. Standing still, she had no trouble hitting vital spots, but those shots became far less fatal if they were even an inch off. The result was that the charging Drachnids became pincushions for her conjured arrows, but they were merely wounded.

Luckily, that’s where Pudge came in.

For all that both Abby and Zeke worried about the bear cub’s safety, when push came to shove, he could become a vicious, little killer. However, given his size, he fought more like an enraged wolverine than a traditional bear. His claws were razor sharp, and they cut through the drachnid’s thick, armor-like chitin with ease. And when he launched himself at their relatively unprotected faces, his vice-like jaws went to work. The drachnids gave as good as they got, but Pudge had [Leech Strike] active, and he quickly healed from whatever wounds he took. If she’d had time to think, Abby would’ve once again mused at how overpowered that skill really was.

Meanwhile, Abby continued firing, one arrow after another until, finally, the first monster reached her. It swiped at her with its talon-like fingers, narrowly missing her stomach. If it had connected, it would’ve disemboweled her, right then and there. And the last thing she wanted was to try to fight with her intestines hanging out. She’d been there before, and she never wanted to revisit that situation again.

Slipping her bow over her shoulder, Abby drew her hatchet. She didn’t have any skills pertaining to the weapon. Nor did she have a path. But she did have skill and superhuman attributes. So, when the monsters closed within melee range, she went to work.

Abby excelled in agility and dexterity, but because the power of her primary skill, [Gust of Wind] was based on intelligence and used mana, she’d been forced to make some hard choices when it came to the allocation of stats. So, she had eschewed strength in favor of more intelligence and wisdom. That meant that, when it came to melee, she had adopted an acrobatic fighting style that utilized her greatest assets. It required immense skill and concentration, but it had been effective enough to see her through. She wasn’t Zeke, but she could more than hold her own.

Ducking under another slash, she swung the small hand-axe in a horizontal slash. It ripped into the carapace that covered most of the drachnid’s torso, but it didn’t get deep enough to do any damage. However, the next three strikes, all in quick succession, reduced the hard chitin to a pulpy, bloody mess. And the fifth strike disemboweled the creature.

It screamed in pain, trying to bring its own claws into the battle. But it was too slow, its natural weapons finding only air. Abby leapt, using her momentum to add force to an overhand blow that quickly found the drachnid’s forehead. It split open like a melon, the monster dying in an instant.

Abby was already moving, though. There were more drachnids bearing down on her, and she couldn’t stop for even a second.