Everyone gaped as John led the Rank 6 Hero by the hand to the front of the conflict. Xanhilt looked at him with a mixture of wonder and fear. He was the reason for this drama, and John could see it was a lot for the saurian to deal with. He’d wanted to come here the most, but it turned out to be a hostile decision.

But what hadn’t been hostile to them since landing in Urmatia?

Once John released Betsy, he took his spot next to Noname and in front of Xanhilt. Everyone regarded Betsy with care.

“I killed a lot of your kind.” The Rank 6 Hero pointed at Xanhilt. “And a good amount of my friends got killed by your kind, too. A bunch of y’all are still younglings. This is your first major battle. First major campaign. First taste of real glory. But I’ve been doing this for forty years. I’ve never seen a hero saurian.”

“So, in his incompetence, John brought the enemy among us,” Victor said.

John stiffened.

“Can’t say if he did.” Betsy removed her straw from her mouth. “I haven’t gotten any news of this development. But it wouldn’t surprise me if things are happening above that I’m not privy to. Could be that the saurian here is the first of his kind to meet hero requirements.”

“What would it take to prove that he’s a villain?” the princess said spitefully. “One who’ll grow to terrorize the UUA.”

“I know a way that can prove he’s a hero,” Betsy said. “I didn’t say much cause watching y’all bicker about was a bit entertaining for me. Taught me a lot about where everyone stood, too.”

John now knew that gnolls were definitely his friends, so he could see the logic there. But he wanted this beef squashed quickly. His [Soul] could only endure so much, and the weight of the slump was almost too much. With a look, he urged Betsy to solve their problem here.

The Rank 6 Hero in the cowboy hat glared at Xanhilt.

The saurian gulped.

“If you can’t do this, I’m going to have you destroyed,” she said. “You ready for the test? It’ll be the end of you if you don’t pass it.”

John opened his mouth to say something, but an incredible pressure shut him up. A ripple of invisible power pulsed from Betsy’s petite body and forced him into a stagger. It made Noname stumble back, too. The power staggered everyone.

Xanhilt was shaking so hard he might fall apart. He said, “Yes,” like a deadman preparing himself for the end.

“Use your [Brightlight Orb] magic core,” Betsy demanded.

Xanhilt quirked his head to the side.

John blinked. That’s it?

Xanhilt did as commanded, summoning a small orb of light.

“Welp, that’s good enough for me,” Betsy said. “He’s a Rank 2, so he’s unable to switch cores yet. We’ll probably have to commit further tests, but I think we can settle things here for now.”

“You can’t be serious,” Victor said. “Why does that pass the test?”

“[Brightlight Orbs] are magic cores that heroes are given to navigate the mist,” the elf princess said. “Villains are known to have [Skin Snatcher] magic cores to hide among us and cause ruin. Rank 2 heroes and villains can’t switch out their cores.”

“Yup, and I guess this is as good as a time as any to let you all know to keep a lookout,” Betsy said. “I don’t fear the saurian that’s out in the open much as the one that can be hiding around you right now. With our success here, the evil side is going to try something over the next couple of months for sure.”

“So… we don’t behead that saurian,” an orc asked.

“No, this saurian is a good saurian,” Nek said.

“Eh,” Betsy said when John shot her look. Yeah, she was way more powerful than him, but he felt like he garnered some of her respect. And it turned out his suspicions were right. She didn’t speak on whatever she was thinking.

“Bah, now I’m back to feeling bad,” said the orc.

“I don’t even have the energy to loot,” said a tauren.

“The goblins are going to come here overnight and snatch up everything,” said a gnome.

“Damn goblins,” muttered another gnome.

With all their anger snuffed out, the dispirited mood returned. John felt it like a stack of bricks falling on him. He didn’t even have it in him to hound Victor for his thieving, false-villain-accusing assholery.

John found his seat on a pile of shamblers and dropped into it with a tired sigh. Noname and Xanhilt joined him. The saurian stayed at John’s side like his life depended on it. Even passing Betsy’s test didn’t seem to settle down his fear.

“The gods truly do hate me,” Xanhilt muttered. “They made me an anomaly of this world. One who is mistrusted by one side and shares blood with another side.”

“Sounds complicated,” Noname said. “Well, it looks like if you die, we’ll die with you.”

Xanhilt jolted at those words. “You can’t.”

“Not me. It’s John.”

John shrugged.

Xanhilt’s slitted eyes regarded. “How can I ever repay you for your kindness?”

“I don’t know if it’s kindness, man,” John said. “I just can’t settle when bullies are trying to hurt people. That and I really want to punch that Victor guy in the face, again. But I don’t really have the energy in me now.”

“I can end him,” Noname said.

John paused for a second and actually thought about.

“Nah,” John said.

"You sure?"

John nodded. "We'll pay him back in another way."

Xanhilt made a worried hiss as the Skullhead Landing defenders started to slowly separate. It was a morose scene to watch. It didn’t look any better to John as Victor’s party watched them. John watched them back until Victor, and his cronies turned away to leave with the princess.

It ain’t over between us, Victor, John thought, leaving it at that.

John looked over to Betsy.

“You got any Rank 6 Hero tricks?” John asked. “I know what we’re suffering is part of everything having a cost, but you gotta admit this sucks. I mean, we accomplished something major, right? But it doesn’t feel like it.”

Betsy gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re asking an awful lot from me.”

“Well, squeaky wheels get the oil, my mom would say,” John replied. “You can suffer in silence, or you can embrace someone’s else help and alleviate the pain. I’m not ashamed to ask for help if you care to give it, Betsy. And so far, you come across to me as someone who cares.”

Betsy looked at John hard. Then a smile crossed her face. “Damn, I know I just met you, but you’re growing fast on me. Alright, John. I’ll oil your wheels with something a little extra. How about a Rank 7 spell from the Divine School?”

“How many ranks are there?” Xanhilt asked quietly.

“Nine in total,” Betsy replied. “Rank 9 belongs to the highest of gods, and everything else below that are mortals and immortals trying to climb to the top. The spell I have in mind will request support from those Rank 9 gods that have us mixed up in this mess in the first place.”

“I can’t tell you if I understand everything you’re saying completely, but if it can liven things up here, I’ll take it. Please.” The strongest rank John had was his [Advance Boxing, Rank 3]. It helped John out a lot when he had to fight from inconvenient positions. So hearing of an ability with a higher rank made John wonder how many levels it took to get to Rank 9?

Xanhilt had a look of curiosity that seemed to express what John was thinking. Noname seemed indifferent.

They didn’t get the chance to ask whatever they had in mind when Betsy removed her hat from her head. She held it like a bowl and dipped the end of her straw into it. When she pulled her straw out, the end was slick with a gold oily substance like colored ink. [The Tower Crasher] used her straw like a stylus and wrote strange runic symbols into the air.

At that point, John’s eyes were wide open as Betsy engraved something mystical into the air around her. She completed the circle of runes with a slight flourish of her hand. The runes pulsated brightly like a beating heart. It emitted a flash of raw magic that made John’s skin tingle, and his heart beat faster. The air whipped around them as a vortex of energy focused around Betsy. This was similar to what John saw from other spellcasters, but they had to engrave these intricate runes into the ground. Apparently, the Rank 6 Hero could use the air as her canvas.

The senior hero flicked off excess ink off her straw and stuck the end back in her mouth. She dug around her hat as the mystical energies continued to whirl around them. As she searched for whatever she contained in the hat, the nearest of Skullhead Landing’s defenders noticed the activity. It didn’t take long for word to travel and draw mostly everyone back, their curiosity overcoming their slump.

“There it is,” Betsy said, pulling out an assortment of items. “Spiritfire phoenix feather. A small vial from the eternal spring of youth. A fang of the hopeless ouroboros infant. And a fragment of a grand lich’s phylactery.” As she mentioned them, she pulled out each item. When John tried to identify them, they each came up as [???]. His identify talent wasn’t a high enough rank for these items, probably.

“All this will serve as regents for our spell. The glyph is our guide. And now we need your tribute for the request since I’m not sacrificing nothing of mine.” Betsy clapped her hands together. All of the items she had pulled from her hat burst into motes of light. They swirled around the spell circle. “Remember y’all, everything has a cost. So, we’re going to have to pay up a little. How about three-fourth of the loot and monster parts here for this whopper of a spell?”

John sensed that she was mostly talking to herself and not expecting anyone to answer. He doubted anyone would say no if they wanted to answer. He did notice a couple of gnomes open their mouths to say something, but not a word came out in respect toward the Rank 6 Hero. If she wanted to take all of the loot, she probably could. But what she needed was for something big, he imagined.

“There. Everything’s synced up. Been a while since I’ve done this. The gods might be busy, but they won’t be able to put this off,” Betsy said, aiming a finger toward the sky. “[Divine Request: Soul Mending Bomb]!”

The floating rune marks and the dust particles buzzed with increased vigor. The dust particles circled in helix formations while the spell rotated so fast it became a band of light. The spell circle slammed into the ground. The dust particles twisted up into the air faster than John could track. A divine torrent of mystical energy roared up from the ground and through the spiral of dust particles like a geyser.

Betsy stood in the middle of it with a big smile on her face as waves of power lashed out. The waves were so strong they nearly knocked people off their feet. John almost fell over, but Xanhilt and Noname helped him stay seated.

The roaring light show lasted for a long minute before it vanished. John blinked quickly to rid them of spots. He noticed the field was sparse of corpses and loot. Whatever Betsy did took not only the pouches the monsters had but the monster bodies, too.

Ding! Hey everyone, this is your favorite goddess, Dolala!

“Blessed high tide, the goddess of cheer speaks to us!” an orc shouted in amazement.

Everyone gawked up in the air as if this was their first time having a god speak to them. John, however, wanted to call out Dolala for being a ding-dong, but he kept his mouth shut.

Ding! Please forgive us for the delays. Rewards will be out… tonight! But in the meantime, we’ve received your request, Betsy. Just give us a minute. Yoven is in one of his moods. He has to audit the tribute first.

“I don’t give a leaping hog about Yoven’s moods!” shouted Betsy, her voice like thunder. “I get in my moods every month, and I still go out and do my job! Now fulfill the request, dangit!”

Ding! Eeek! Gosh, Betsy, you’re so tough. I’m getting Yoven up right now. Please don’t be mad at me.

“Yeah, yeah,” Betsy said.

“The way she talks to the gods reminds me of you, John,” Xanhilt said.

“Yeah, yeah,” John said.

“Meh,” Noname said.

Ding! This is Yoven. *YAWN*

“It’s the god of value, treasures, and loot!” said a gnome. They were quite excited about Yoven’s arrival even though he seemed worse than Dolala to John. That was saying a lot.

Ding! Mm. The tribute satisfies the request. Now leave me alone. You have no clue how busy I am.

“That’s crud, Yoven, but thanks!” shouted Betsy. The urmatians looked at her like she was crazy for yelling at a god with disrespect. John looked at her like she was the epitome of awesome.

Ding! This is Dolala! I got an order of one [Soul Mending Bomb] in three… two… and… one! Enjoy.

From out of the blue, a meteorite hurtled toward them. Shards of light, clouds of angelic feathers, and scintillating beads of water streaked behind it. John’s first thought was to get out of the way since it fell right on top of them. But seeing Betsy stand as calm as an autumn morning made him wait.

Boom.

The [Soul Mending Bomb] landed. An explosion of magical particles washed over them, spreading across the field like a wave. It even reached past the walls. Glowing feathers and shiny water droplets rained. John watched in amazement along with everyone else as the bomb encapsulated them in its divine aura.

John noticed a new sensation inside of him. It was something similar to relief. Before he could truly understand it, the sensation changed. It became a glimmer of joy. It changed further, transforming into pure gaiety. The weight of the slump disappeared, and with it, John could genuinely study the entirety of himself after being part of such a large battle.

John got to his feet as an uproar of cheers sounded from the defenders. He looked around as taurens bleated merrily, entwining arm to arm with the orcs. The elves made up with their gnoll counterparts, the princess and gnoll leaders at the center. The little gnomes dashed around the battlefield quickly to pick up loot. The dwarves continued to drink, but now their drinking became more joyful. Everyone transitioned into a soulful mood despite losing most of their loot to accomplish such a game-changer of a spell.

When a female dwarf came around with a mane of braided hair intricately woven, John asked for one of her flasks. It was bizarrely forward of him, but he was feeling the greatest he’d ever felt. He felt like he could do anything. The dwarf lady happily handed him a flask.

John untwisted the top and took a swig. It hit like a truck. It burned down his throat. It was his first time drinking something harder than a beer.

It was fantastic.

“I love this,” John said to his friends. “I think I honestly love this new life. I don’t like the horror. I don’t like the pain, blood, and death. I can never like any of that. But this right here. Overcoming a challenge I’ll never face in the old world… this… this is amazing.”

It was like a game, but not like a game. He had powers that were beyond the scope of his imagination in the old world. He was surrounded by magical creatures that had only existed in fantasy. He could imagine there was a lot more to see around the world of Urmatia, and he was in a position that had the privilege to go see it and make a difference in the world. And there was a reason for him to fight bigger than himself and true to himself. There was a reason to grow stronger, to get better, to fight harder. There were monsters for him to punch while being a hero for it.

Xanhilt looked up at him, exasperated. “Perhaps this is fitting for you, but this doesn’t seem fitting for me.”

John’s high dropped a bit. He lowered the flasks. “Sorry, man. It’s just… yeah.”

There was an awkward pause that made John wonder if he should’ve kept his feelings to himself. Then Xanhilt let out a tired hum. He got to his feet and grasped John’s arm.

“Don’t let me ruin this moment for you, John,” he said. “You are a true warrior. This is meant for you. Also, it seems to me that the gnolls that stood beside us wish to celebrate with you.”

John looked to the side and saw Nek and Szi beckoning for him with a wave of their hands. He hesitated. He’d separated once from his friends already. He didn’t want to do that again so soon.

“You should go,” Xanhilt said. “We weren’t here to fight with you. This is your moment.”

Noname said nothing.

John thought about it. He went over to the gnolls and talked to them for a bit. Then he returned to his friends.

Xanhilt looked shocked.

Noname quirked an eyebrow.

“I told them I want to spend a night hanging out with you guys,” John said. “We’ve been running and gunning for a week to get to civilization. Can’t we see what Skullhead’s got for us together?”

“Doesn’t look like it has much,” Xanhilt said.

“You can do a lot with a little,” Noname said. “But… I’m glad you decided to stick with us.”

John smiled. “What? Don’t tell me you were silently hoping for me to stay. You can’t exploit me if you don’t say anything.”

Noname turned away from him. “Yeah, sure.”

John laughed and held himself back from teasing her further. Despite the differences in receptions, even Xanhilt looked happier. It made John glad that he was sticking with the ones who have been supporting him to get here.

“As sweet as this is, I’ll have to intrude,” Betsy said.

“Oh no,” Noname said. “She’s a party blocker.”

Betsy looked annoyed at the accusation. “It’s the case with your saurian friend.”

“Xanhilt,” John said sternly.

“Xanhilt,” she repeated, glancing at the saurian. “Even with him passing a decent test, people won’t take to him kindly on the first night. Maybe not for a while. And what I said about villainous agents acting against us is a problem we’ll deal with sooner or later. Don’t want to get your friend… Xanhilt… caught up in that, would you?”

“So, what are you suggesting, miss?” Xanhilt asked carefully.

Betsy looked at him as if she was still unsure of the saurian. “Y’all wanna crash on my ship? I got a cabin stocked with drinks. My personal chef could whip you up something nice. Also, it’s got a magic bathroom and wardrobes of spare clothes, male and female.”

“If I knew you better, I would kiss you,” John said.

“Well, I’ll be… my mama told me to be a lady always and to turn away from advances like that,” Betsy said. “But you are making some strong cases against that advice, little puncher.”

John had a sizzling line on his tongue in response to the ‘little’ comment. But he clenched his jaw and focused on more important stuff than flirting. He looked at Xanhilt and Noname. Then he looked back at the veteran hero.

“We’ll be glad to be guests at your ship. This is… really nice. Thank you, Betsy.”

“Sometimes, your seniors can be a mean sort. Crabby. Salty. Dark, even. But I always like to spice things up and treat the younglings who have promise with some hospitality.”

“I like the sound of that, honestly,” John said.

“Me too. We should do it. After we pick up John’s share of the loot,” Noname added.

“If we can also link up with Daniel and Samantha, who hold some of our loot as well, then I’ll find all of this agreeable,” Xanhilt said.

John grinned. It was nice to have friends who tracked all the important details that led to your success. It gave John room to keep track of what he could do for his friends. And for himself. Even if that meant he had to fight for whatever they needed.