Vur groaned and stretched his arms out to the side, all four of them. He cracked his neck and sat up, the blanket covering him sliding down to reveal his chest. He yawned and wiped his eyes with his top two hands and used one of his free hands to grab a glass of water on the bedside table.

“I think it’s going to take me a very long time to get used to this,” Tafel said and stared at her husband, her cheek resting on a pillow. Vur used his last hand to stroke Tafel’s hair, pushing strands of it off her face and behind her ear. “Yep. A long, long time.” She sighed and extended her bent legs, arching her back while stretching. “You know Mary walked in on us, right?”

Vur shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“If you say so,” Tafel said and rolled over onto her back. She gathered up the blanket and pulled it up, covering her chin while making herself comfortable. “Say, what do you want to do next? We came to the palace because I promised to attend Mary’s banquet, but we got caught up in something ridiculous. At least it’s over. Do you want to go back to that dungeon we were exploring earlier?”

Vur scratched his nose. “Not really. It was boring there.”

“That’s because you’re too strong,” Tafel said and pouted. “Any dungeon crawl is going to be boring for you.”

Vur nodded. “Then let’s stop dungeon crawling.”

“We can’t!” Tafel turned her head to meet Vur’s eyes. “Dungeon crawling is the best part of an adventurer’s life!”

Vur tilted his head. “The best part of an adventurer’s life is boring? Why are we adventurers?”

A wrinkle appeared on Tafel’s forehead. “Let me rephrase that,” she said. “Getting loot from dungeon crawling is the best part of an adventurer’s life. We get new equipment, learn new skills, gain new techniques, and visit places that haven’t been visited before when we dungeon crawl. It’s not boring.”

Vur blinked. “If you want new equipment, I can make the dwarves forge some for you. They’re very good at that,” he said and nodded. “I’m the dwarf king, remember?” His brow furrowed. “I think? I let Auntie rule the dwarves, but I don’t think she took my title away, so I’m still king.” He nodded again. “What kind of equipment do you want?”

“We can’t do that,” Tafel said and shook her head. “It’s the same concept as you not being allowed to give me Grimmy’s stuff. It’s cheating. We have to find our equipment on our own.”

Vur pointed off to the side at Tafel’s armor which was made of leviathan scales. “Didn’t the fishmen make that for us?”

Tafel coughed. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is, alright?”

Vur shook his head. “Because it’s made of fish? If I gave the dwarves a bunch of fish and they made equipment out of it, is that okay?”

“It’s not because it’s made out of a fish!” Tafel sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Vur. There’s joy in slowly becoming stronger. You have to start out as a weakling, then slowly progress through the gear treadmill. A newbie adventurer starts off with a wooden sword. Then he gets some leather armor. Maybe he’ll kill a goblin and get an iron dagger. Slowly, ever so slowly, that dagger becomes a sword, then the armor improves, then the sword is made of a better metal that can be enchanted. It’s a fun process to see yourself become stronger. You can’t skip to endgame equipment by talking to dwarves or borrowing stuff from dragons.”

Vur furrowed his brow. “Why not? Wouldn’t it be more fun to have the best things right away? Then you can do whatever you want.”

“Then you become too reliant on your equipment,” Tafel said. “You have to use equipment that matches your personal skill. Only those skilled enough are allowed to wield weapons made by dwarves. And only those who are good enough to not get hit can wear dwarven-made armor.”

Vur lay back down and pulled the blanket up. “That doesn’t make sense. Wouldn’t clumsier people want better armor?”

“Well, if the armor’s too heavy, then it’d be hard for them to move around,” Tafel said after a short pause. “They don’t have the necessary proficiency with wearing that kind of armor to use it effectively.”

“Then the dwarves can add an enchantment to make the armor lighter and easier to use,” Vur said.

“That’s cheating.” Tafel pouted. Her eyes lit up. “Oh! Okay, I know how to explain it now.”

“Go on.”

“So, adventurers start off in easier dungeons to get stronger because they’d die if they tried harder dungeons right away, right?”

“Okay.”

Tafel rolled over onto her side and rested her arm on Vur’s chest, which was covered by the blanket. “And easy dungeons are easy because the creatures inside of them are weaker and less intelligent than those inside harder dungeons.”

“Right.”

“So, if a new adventurer wears armor way above his league, then he’ll be able to clear the easy dungeons without breaking a sweat. He won’t be forced into dangerous situations, and the experience he’ll receive will be way less. When he gets to a hard dungeon that’s on par with his armor’s league, he’s going to die from lack of experience. Partaking in combat where your life is at risk and partaking in sparring are two totally different things. Someone who’s been through many life-or-death situations is going to be way stronger than someone who’s only sparred even if their equipment are the same.”

Vur blinked. “But I think you’re strong enough to use dwarven-made equipment?”

Tafel shook her head. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?”

“No, and it’ll be a long while before I am.”

Vur rubbed his chin again. “Is this just another way of saying you want to go back to the dungeon?”

Tafel’s face flushed. “I mean, it’d be nice if we finished what we started, right? If the chimera queen was just a mini-boss, imagine what the boss of that dungeon would be like.”

Vur inched closer to Tafel, wrapping one arm over her shoulder. “Isn’t me being there the same thing as having overpowered equipment? There’s no life-or-death situation if I’m there. Wouldn’t you get less experience?”

“That’s different,” Tafel said.

“Really,” Vur said, his voice flat.

“It really is! There’s a difference between having armor that can block an attack that rightfully should’ve killed you and having someone watching over you to make sure you don’t die.”

“If you say so.”

“Vur! I’m telling the truth! It really is different.” Tafel pouted.

Vur smiled and crept closer, placing his lips on hers. He drew back and stroked her head, his fingers playing with her hair. “If you want to finish the dungeon, then let’s go finish the dungeon.”

Tafel gave Vur a slight nod, her face bright red. “Okay,” she said in a small voice. “Let’s do that.”