Still wearing his armor, Zeke made his way through the city, drawing more than a few curious glances along the way. He did note that, as he strode down the streets, the crowds of pedestrians parted before him. They’d been conditioned to make way for those with more power, and his armor marked him as such. On top of that, he’d reached level fifteen, which wasn’t possible without a significant amount of time hunting monsters. Even the artisans weren’t free from that requirement, which made people like Luigi, who was level twenty-one, all the more impressive.

When he was halfway back to the inn, Zeke saw a man wearing a white robe trimmed in gold standing atop a box in the middle of one of the city’s squares.

“We bask in the glory of the sun goddess!” he yelled. “Shar Maelaine has granted us unimaginable power. Step forth, so you can repay some small portion of what you have been given! You! Adventurer! Do you hear the call? Will you surrender a portion of your strength so that the sun goddess may sustain this world?”

It took Zeke a moment to realize that the man was speaking to him. Of course, Zeke had heard of the sun goddess, Shar Maelaine. It was said that Lady Constance, the most powerful woman in Beacon, was her chosen emissary. Beyond that, Zeke had no notion of the Temple of the Sun’s doctrines or dogma.

“I’m good, thanks,” he said, keeping moving. The last thing he wanted was to give up power, much less to a cause he didn’t know. The man called after him, but Zeke paid him no heed, and eventually, he got out of range of the man’s shouts. Soon, he found his way back to the inn, where he found Abby sitting in the common room. Pudge followed him as he crossed the room and sat across from her. The bear cub planted himself beneath the table, doubtless hoping that he would get some scraps. Zeke could tell he wasn’t hungry, but his appetite was still insatiable.

“Nice armor,” Abby said. She’d already eaten most of her food, and there were only a few fried potatoes left on her plate. “You look like a proper warrior, now.”

“It’s a lot lighter than I expected,” Zeke acknowledged, removing his helmet and setting it aside. “I can barely even feel it. I still have no idea how to use a shield, though.”

She chuckled. “Can’t be that hard,” was her response. “Just put the shield in front of whatever’s attacking you. I’m sure you’ll get the knack. Besides, it’s not like your fighting style’s all that complicated.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, a little offended. He’d worked hard to develop his skill with the mace, and he’d been rewarded with a martial path for his efforts. If that wasn’t proof that he was on the right track, he didn’t know what was.

Abby popped a friend potato in her mouth, saying, “Oh, c’mon. You know what it means. Your battle style can be summed up with one word – carnage. There’s not a lot of finesse or technique there. But at least with that armor, you won’t get hurt quite as much.”

He sighed. She wasn’t necessarily wrong. While he’d made plenty of progress in developing his own technique, he was still a long way from mastery. His efforts were effective, but he knew that effectiveness wouldn’t last forever. One day, he’d encounter someone whose physical prowess rivaled his own, and then technique would start to matter a lot more. He could only work to make more progress before that happened.

“What did you find out?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Well, Einar is definitely wound up in whatever was happening down in the sewers,” she said.

“How do you know that?” was his next question.

“He bought that book,” she stated. “I went to visit a contact of mine, who then sent me to someone else, who in turn sent me to a book seller on the second tier. She told me that a man matching Elder Einar’s description bought that book from her.”

“So, not only is he behind all those deaths, but he also knew what he was sending me into,” Zeke reasoned, his anger returning. He’d managed to suppress it while visiting Luigi and collecting his armor, but finding out that he was right about Einar’s motives only served to fan the flames. He pushed himself up, announcing, “Well, that settles it – I’m going to kill him.”

“What? No!” Abby said, reaching out to grab his arm. “You can’t do that!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why not?” he asked.

“Because!” she said, obviously speaking before she knew how to respond. Her hand didn’t move from his wrist, though. “Just sit down, okay? We need to talk about this.”

Zeke sighed. He wasn’t so bloodthirsty that he would let his anger completely overwhelm his good sense. And besides, Abby was smarter than him. She knew the city. And she hadn’t steered him wrong so far. So, he begrudgingly retook his seat.

“Talk, then,” he said. “You don’t want me to kill him. Okay. What’s the alternative? I won’t stand by when someone’s trying to murder me, even if he tried to do it by proxy. And that’s not even considering what he did with those kids. Or that he’s obviously doing this for a reason, which can’t be good.”

“I know,” she said. “Just let me think for a second.”

Zeke waited patiently, drumming his gauntleted fingers on the wooden table. He looked around the common room, and he realized just how much attention he was getting. Armored adventurers weren’t that uncommon of a sight, but most people shed their armor as soon as they could. But then again, theirs probably wasn’t as light or comfortable as Luigi’s work. Nor did many possess stats comparable to Zeke’s, so wearing armor affected them a lot more.

“We can’t go to the guards,” Abby stated. “We don’t have any real evidence. The bookseller could probably identify Elder Einar, but she wouldn’t want to cross someone with his power.”

“Killing is still on the table,” Zeke reminded her. “Pretty sure it wouldn’t even be that hard.”

“Shush,” she said. “I’m thinking.”

Zeke rolled his eyes and shifted into a more comfortable position. The bench creaked under his weight. Perhaps the armor was heavier than he thought it was. As he waited for Abby to come up with some sort of brilliant idea, his mind wandered. More than anything, Zeke just wanted to get back out into the wilderness and start leveling again. Was it a call to adventure he felt? Or just the need to gain more power? He didn’t know, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really care.

It might’ve been a little different if coming to Beacon hadn’t been accompanied by all the issues that usually surrounded human civilization. Politics. Religion. Crime. Greed. The city was infested with that and much, much more. But in the wilds, all he had to worry about were monsters or bandit attacks. It was simpler, there. If something tried to kill him, he killed it back. But in a city? There were laws, even if they were skewed in favor of the strong, and if he broke them, he’d feel the weight of the city come down on him. He had a little power, but Zeke knew just how poorly he’d fair against the city’s true elites – especially if they came in numbers.

And that wasn’t even considering the living legends he’d heard so much about. Lady Constance, who could burn an entire forest to ashes. Abdul Rumas, the paladin who could take any blow and come out unscathed. The Radiant Guard, who’d never lost a battle. The list went on and on, and that was just what Zeke had heard while wandering the city. There were probably countless others who were just as strong but had never sought the limelight. He knew just how small he really was when compared to them.

“Alright, I think I have an idea,” she said. “But you’re probably not going to like it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it doesn’t involve you smashing anything with your club,” she said with a smirk.

“It’s not a club,” he muttered. “It’s a mace. And you make it sound like I’m some wild caveman who lives to murder things.”

She raised an eyebrow, saying, “Is that not the case?” With a frown, Zeke started to respond, but she cut him off with a laugh. “Oh, don’t be like that. I’m just joking. And besides, you do like beating things to death with your club. Or mace. Sorry – slip of the tongue.”

Zeke knew she was teasing him, just like always, but he couldn’t quite figure out if that was really how she saw him. He was brutal – a product of his life since being reborn into the new world. But he wasn’t a brute who killed things unnecessarily.

“Okay, so here’s the plan…”

Zeke listened as she explained what they were going to do. Surprisingly, it wasn’t an elaborate plan, but there was some elegance in its simplicity. In the end, Zeke didn’t like his chances of surviving a full-frontal assault on the guild hall, so he agreed to do things her way. But in the back of his mind, Zeke found himself preparing for the moment when everything would fail, and he’d have to resort to what he did best.

Perhaps he really was a brute.

“Did you want to do it now?” she asked. “Or did you want to wait? Get something to eat, maybe? And what about Pudge?”

There was a thud as the bear responded to hearing his name but forgot that there was a table above him. Zeke could feel his companion’s irritation and something akin to embarrassment. Could animals even feel that? Or was it a side effect of the bond? Zeke had no idea, and he didn’t expect to get answers from anyone else either; his connection with Pudge was unique, and though there were other skills associated with taming animals, he suspected that they weren’t as complete as the one he’d accidently created by modifying the rune of [Mark of Companionship].

He shook his head, saying, “No – it’s fine. Let’s get this over with. I have a feeling that things aren’t going to go well, and we’re going to end up having to leave in a hurry. So, make sure you have anything you want to take with you.”

“It’s not going to come to that, Zeke,” she said. “There are good people in the guild.”

He shrugged, but he didn’t say anything to refute her claim. However, he couldn’t help but question the judgment of anyone who would put someone like Einar in charge of anything, much less admissions into the guild. Likely, they were all just as corrupt as he was.

Even though Abby seemed certain that everything would work out, she still went upstairs and retrieved her satchel. Other than that, she had nothing else to gather. Everything else was safely secured in Zeke’s storage space. So, the pair, with Pudge dutifully following behind, were soon on their way to the guild hall. On the way, Zeke mentioned the screaming preacher he’d encountered before.

“Priests of the sun goddess,” Abby said. “They don’t preach a lot here, mostly because they’ve already got most of the population under their heel. But if you spend much time in Sanctuary or one of the waystations, you’ll see them plenty.”

“But what was he talking about when he wanted me to surrender my strength or whatever?” Zeke asked, glancing toward her as they walked through the streets. It had started to rain, so many of the pedestrians had disappeared into the shelter of the buildings. Having grown up in the deep south, Zeke didn’t mind a little rain, though.

“You didn’t do it, did you?” she asked.

“No.”

“Good,” Abby said with a sigh. “They put a curse on you that permanently drains a few stat points. Supposedly, it’s supposed to go to the sun goddess, but I think it just goes to someone like Lady Constance or someone high up in the clergy.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Zeke asked.

Abby shrugged. “Who knows why people do what they do?” she mused. “But the official line is that the sun goddess, Shar Maelaine, granted Lady Constance her power so she could be the protector this island needed. They also claim that the protective aura that surrounds Beacon is powered by those curses. Apparently, the clergy have an even stronger one put on them when they join the Temple. They call it a power tithe.”

“I’d like to study one of those curses,” Zeke said, which prompted a shake of Abby’s head. She didn’t understand his fascination with runes, and he couldn’t adequately explain why he found them so interesting. To her, they were little more than the mysterious pathways to power, but to him, they represented a puzzle that, if he could just solve it, would shed light on everything.

But as far as the purpose of the tithe curse went, if the Temple of the Sun was telling the truth about what they did, it was a practice Zeke could get behind. He wouldn’t willingly give up any of his own power, but for those who lived in the city and were incapable of protecting themselves, the loss of a few stat points was a small price to pay for security.

Finally, they reached the guild hall, and after only a little hesitation from the guards – mostly due to whether or not they wanted to allow a dire bear into the building – they were allowed inside. However, instead of heading toward Einar’s office, they instead made their way in the opposite direction. After traversing a labyrinth of hallways and a couple of checkpoints manned by surly looking guards, Abby led them down into the bowels of the guild hall. They eventually reached their destination, which was a small room abutting a giant vault.

Zeke marveled at the vault’s door, which looked like it would’ve been at home in a bank. However, through his artisan’s path, he could also see the collection of runes etched into the steel itself. More than a slab of metal protected the guild’s wealth, and Zeke pitied anyone who tried to force entry into the treasure room.

“Abby?” said a man sitting at a desk. He was average sized, middle-aged, and had black hair with only a tinge of grey at the temples. “What are you doing here? And who have you brought with you?”

Reflexively, Zeke used [Inspection] on him:

Dirk Givens – Level 25

Zeke had never seen anyone that high of a level. Both the drachnid champion and the queen had been, but he knew enough to know that monster levels didn’t really compare to that of human beings. He wasn’t sure exactly how strong this innocuous looking man was, but he could feel enough of his aura to know precisely how bad of an idea it would be to tangle with him.

“I’m Zeke,” Zeke said, stepping forward. “And one of your guild elders tried to kill me.”