Gar-Khan led him through the forest on a path of flowers. Chilly was so enraptured by the diverse array of scents and colors that he missed the harsh dissonance up ahead until a penguin pointed it out to him.

“Is someone...screaming?” he asked.

Gar-Khan continued unperturbed. “The second guardian that resides here. We will be up in the treetops before we cross paths. You would be wise to avoid the Winter Guardian. She is far less subtle in her designs than her sunny counterpart.”

Chilly listened to the distant screams silently. They made their way to a particularly large tree with a crude ladder nailed to the side. Without comment, Gar-Khan indicated that Chilly should climb.

Chilly’s eyes widened as he noticed that there was a treehouse nestled between the branches of the large tree. He quickly scanned the rest of the treetops and noticed that many of the other trees had houses built on them. Dainty little rope bridges connected the various homes.

Look up, dumbass. Chilly chided himself, climbing the ladder. Gar-Khan soon ascended and the hoarse screams grew near enough that he could hear them.

[...Come back...me..]

(AN: Chilly cannot understand this)

Chilly turned to look down and saw a creeping frost eating at the path of flowers. A wake of death spread out as stalks wilted, and green faded from the land. Chilly looked at the origin of the creeping frost and beheld another beautiful maiden with two little curled horns sprouting from her temples.

Like the Spring Guardian, the Winter Guardian was wearing a summer dress, but in blues and grays instead of the warm yellows and reds that her fairer sister favored. Her level was higher as well, and it showed in her mannerism. All harsh lines and sharp edges, as if tempered by war.

Her face was contorted into a permanent grimace as she screamed bloody murder.

[Return to me sister! Another has entered our sanctuary. We must slay them. Destroy them. Freeze them into the Great Salt and throw them from our mountain!]

Chilly took a step back from the edge. He couldn’t understand what the Guardian was saying, but the unrestrained rage and hate in her tone frightened him.

A steadying hand fell on his back. “Fear not the Winter Guardian, Gregory Morhuil. She will not climb the trees. You will be safe in its boughs.”

Chilly extricated himself from Gar-Khan's hand with a grimace. “Cool beans champ. Must get annoying having her screaming her head off all the time. How do you fall asleep with all that racket.”

Gar-Khan nodded, gesturing for Chilly to follow him. “Many of our members do not sleep, though I am aware of the concept.”

Chilly’s cheeky grin froze on his face.

“Come. Most of us do not sleep, but there are still beds aplenty to rest your tired head on.”

Chilly jolted awake and slapped the hand away from his bare shoulder.

“Wake, young one. The cycle wanes.” Gar-Khan’s deep rumble intruded.

“Stop...” Chilly muttered, scooting back on the heavenly bed he had been given and clutched Starfire Aegis to his waist. “...touching me, man.”

“I am no man.” Gar-Khan stepped away. “Come, there is much to show you, and much for you to learn before the reset.”

Chilly glowered at the purple man as he left in a distinctive lopsided gait that always kept his right shoulder facing forwards.

“Maggots have an excellent protein composition.” Mr. Runaway muttered from the side.

Chilly shot the penguin a glance then sighed. He understood what the penguin was getting at. There was always a silver lining. The Yawm might be a little invasive, and presumptuous, but he was certainly capable. There was a chance that most of his disgust of the purple creature was the repulsive appearance. He needed to give the big man a chance.

In a way, this was the ultimate test of racism. Chilly had prided himself on being mostly egalitarian back on earth. Oh, sure, there were plenty of occasions where he had slipped and caught himself thinking racist thoughts, but he had worked to quell them and treat everyone equally. He wasn’t perfect, but he tried to fight against the indoctrination that he had been brought up with.

Gar-Khan had taken him in without a single mention of recompense. He had given him a bath, a bed, a meal. He had done it when they were different species. Not eastern vs. western. Not black vs. white. Different species! They could not have been more different, and everything he could have asked for had been provided without requesting a single thing in return. Gar-Khan had been considerate to the - likely - vastly different needs a human body needed compared to his own.

Based on these actions alone, Gar-Khan was a good man. No. A bloody philanthropist. Oh, he looked down on Chilly a little. Treated him like a child, but that was likely just a result of the culture here. If he leveled a little, that was likely to change.

Chilly rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stretched mightily. A half dozen subsonic clicks shivered down his back as his body uncurled for the total languor it had found itself in for the first time in weeks.

He put on a contended smile.

Chilly got up from the simple cot that had been given and put on his now clean armor. After the bath - with soap! - he had fallen naked into bed, using Starfire Aegis as a brilliantly warm blanket, but had the frame of mind to quickly clean his armor before succumbing to his bed’s fluffy embrace.

Chilly left the little hut and met Gar-Khan outside. Once again, he marveled at the architecture around him. It blended seamlessly with the surrounding trees in an elegant matrix of connecting homes. Gar-Khan gestured curtly and Chilly hurried to keep up. The village was alive with traffic. They walked passed dozens of humanoids going about their day. Warforged waved at Chilly, their armor immaculate and their steps heavy, while what looked like DnD Dragonborn stalked over the bridges, little flames leaking out of their mouths as they curtly flicked their tails in Chilly’s general direction.

Chilly was offered a dozen greetings, and as many names, but in the blur of early morning, they all went into one ear and out the other.

Eventually, Gar-Khan paused before a particularly large house, gesturing for Chilly to enter. Chilly obliged, and ducked into the home. It was a small space, but far more spacious than the home that he had slept in. Inside, a wizened old Warforged in scarred armor held a stick of chalk while standing in front of a slate chalkboard. In seats arrayed before him were three smaller Warforged, two Dragonborn, and a single creature made out of...paper.

They were all between levels five and seven. The paper kid identified as a Lightning Ritrum, while the Dragonborn were Young Draelle. All the Warforged were Skirmishers like Chaeli.

Gar-Khan pushed into the room. “Morning, Kincaid. We found a new one in the dungeon yesterday. Gregory Morhuil. He will be joining your class.”

Kincaid, the wizened Warforged, paused his instruction, “Ah, welcome Gregory Morhuil. Come take a seat. Any seat you’d like. Class, welcome our newest student, a level fourteen...human. Hmm, a rare race. Remember your etiquette. Joey, don’t burn his face unless he asks, and make sure you ask before you touch him, Canton.”

Chilly let himself be led to one of the open log seats among the - what he now recognized as - children. One of the Dragonborn and the paper person both ducked their heads in embarrassment, presumably Joey and Canton.

The class greeted Chilly with a robotic monotony of the extremely bored. Despite the rote reception, a bead of excitement welled up inside of him. This was a school! He would finally be able to get a proper education in this world. Skills, items, crafting. He had needed to figure it out all on his own. Now he would be taught the right ways. He wouldn’t need to reinvent the wheel.

He couldn’t help a smile bloom.

They would teach him how to fight. How to dodge. How to take a hit.

If being treated like a child for a bit was the cost, then it was well worth it. Besides, it was easily remedied. All he needed was one more level, and he would become an ‘adult’ in their eyes. That was as trivial as a simple foray into the Frozen Wastes and hunting a couple of level fourteen Wendigos. He had spotted many of them the other day but had avoided them for fear of creating another Named Wendigo.

“Alright, where was I,” Kincaid considered the slate board, as Gar-Khan left. Chilly’s heart sank as he saw a series of incomprehensible symbols written on the board.

“Thanks for the chapter! I don't like that Yawm, but you should tell him about the Wendigo before someone gets hurt!” the new penguin hopped up.

“Ah shit,” Chilly muttered.

“What was that?” Kincaid turned to him. The wizened old Warforged had heard him.

“Nothing, I forgot to tell Gar-Khan something.”

Kincaid hummed thoughtfully. “The Mayor is quite busy managing the village. Perhaps you can ask me and I can try helping you out.”

“Well, I ran into a Named Wendigo in the Frozen Wastes and—”

The rest of the children gasped, their eyes growing wide.

Kincaid chuckled. “There is no need to boast with such prevarication, Gregory Morhuil. This is an open community, we heavily value veracity, and I urge you not to waste the Mayor’s time with this.”

Chilly frowned darkly but held his tongue.

“Now, as I was sa—”

“But, sir!” the young red-scaled dragonkin to his side interjected in a high-pitched voice. “Is it true that Named beings can level like us?”

“I heard, that they don’t despawn.” one of the Warforged said with wide eyes. “Like...ever!”

“And they can—”

“Enough!” Kincaid roared. “The realm of myth and legend is the subject of Mially’s lecture two days hence. Until then, focus on the kmiatics!”

Chilly crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair as Kincaid resumed the lesson. His mood had fallen significantly since the morning. There was nothing more degrading than being ignored, but Chilly had long learned that it would take much more than mere words to convince people like Kincaid of his...veracity.

So he sat and listened, but was summarily disappointed. It took him barely fifteen confused minutes to realize that this...kmiatics was just a fancy term for pre-algebra. Decimals, percents, and multiplication. The symbols were different, and there was something fishy going on with the numbering system, but as a basic premise, it was math. Kincaid was teaching the children to interpret their skills and augments.

There was surprisingly little actual computation, likely because the system did all the heavy lifting, but there was a strong emphasis on ‘more’ being better than ‘increased’ but neither was powerful without a lot of ‘added’ stats. Breakpoints were discussed and how reaching 100%, 200%, or some other multiple was generally a good idea. Both things that Chilly had realized within a day of spawning in this godforsaken dungeon.

So naturally, he pulled the oldest trick in the book.

“Teacher?”

“Yes, Gregory Morhuil?”

“May I go to the bathroom?”

“Of course. Do return promptly.”

Chilly rolled his shoulders and looked across the treetops. There were fewer people around, but a couple still moved across the rope bridges, carrying objects or simply strolling around.

“Ridiculous,” Chilly muttered.

“Everyone needs dakka.” the penguin berated Chilly.

“I know, Mr. Daka. Still a little silly. I’m not going to be learning a whole new lettering and numbering system when the one I have works perfectly fine.”

“It's great for staggering enemies and/or forcing them closer.”

Chilly blinked, trying to interpret the odd turn of phrase. “Your saying...I should show them what I know, and they will ‘stagger’ and grow closer to me as a result? It’s not a terrible idea. I know nothing about this culture. Do you think I should hit level fifteen before I do that, or is it fine to do it now?”

Mr. Daka shrugged.

“I need more information. Let’s find Chaeli. At least she’ll take me seriously.

The faint sound of music started up again, and Chilly turned to follow the source. He crossed bridges and nodded at the other residents. They all seemed surprised to see him, but he supposed that was normal for a small village. Although the architecture of the village was extremely spread out, there couldn’t be more than a hundred or so people living here.

The music led him directly to a humongous building supported by four separate trees that groaned under the weight. The building had glass windows and looked like a bar from the scattering of tables and a long bar, framed by a wall of tapped kegs. Several patrons sat about the room, either unconscious or on the way to it.

Behind the bar, a miserable Chaeli was despondently polishing a wooden mug.

Chilly shoved the door open, and the penguins’ music made a little jingle before falling silent. Several penguins cheered and immediately glommed onto Chaeli’s face.

“Chaeli!” Chilly couldn’t help but grin at the penguins’ antics. “Long time no see. I thought you said we’d meet two cycles ago?”

Chaeli flinched so hard that the mug in her hand slipped her grasp. Her eyes widened and her hand blurred to catch the fallen glass.

Oh, clever. She used her movement skill on just her hand for extra speed, Chilly thought as he reveled in Chaeli’s reaction.

“I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” Chaeli stuttered, furiously polishing the sparkling mug.

Chilly sauntered forward and leaned against the bar. “Really? I distinctly remember you being super excited to help me with my little problem.”

Chaeli gulped. “I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I’ve never m-met you before in my l-life.”

What? Chilly frowned.

“Cold Resistance is just applied fire! Wreathe yourself and hold fast.” the penguin chirped.

Ahh. This was Chaeli, she was just being cold as ice for some reason. Chilly gave Mr. Season a wink.

The penguin smiled back, “Thanks for the chapter!”

“Right!” Chilly slapped the bar, making Chaeli squeak and drop her mug again. “Stop this nonsense. We met a couple of days ago. You know me. And! You promised that you would come out and help me.”

Without her armor, she was already diminutive, but with each word, she shrank down further.

“I...” Chaeli started, looking away.

Chilly narrowed his eyes and shot a glance at Mr. Season. He grasped the edge of his cape, thoughtfully. Something didn’t add up. From what he knew of Chaeli she would do anything to get out of working in a bar.

“Aren’t you bored out of your mind in here? I bet you can’t use any of your abilities in here, and you sure as hell can’t run free. Come with me. It's bound to be more fun than whatever you’re doing here. More lucrative too, by the looks of it.” Chilly shot a meaningful glance at the till which was partially empty with only a few magic essences.

“I can’t...” Chaeli whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

Chilly’s gaze softened. “Come on Chaeli, talk to me. Why did you miss our date with ol’ grumpy? What’s wrong?”

“I’m...” Chaeli said something too low to hear.

“What was that?”

“I’m grounded!” Chaeli shouted, tears flying from her eyes. “I can’t go out and fight monsters for a whole month! It’s all your fault!”

Then she blurred, vanishing from his sight as her stealth ability activated. A moment later the door on the far side of the room leading deeper into the bar slammed open, then slowly creaked shut.

Chilly froze. Ideas crystallized as he finally understood what had been smacking him in the face ever since he had met Chaeli. He had understood intellectually that she was a kid. Or...underage was likely the better word. The thing was, she looked like a mature woman. Small, but in her armor, she easily gained four inches. She spoke intelligently and knew boatloads about the dungeon. She had a sense of calm and poise that could only be gained through long experience.

He had understood that she was young, but it never really registered. It explained why she was so willing to come help him fight a dangerous boss. Why she had been so excited to see him level. Why she hadn’t wanted to lead Chilly to Teluria first. Why, when she had eventually caved to make a quick trip she hadn’t returned.

Chilly settled onto a bar stool.

It would be really wrong to bring her with him to fight the Hellbringer, wouldn’t it? What if something went wrong? Could he bear the responsibility?

On the other hand, Chaeli was skilled. She was mature. Relatively. At least compared to human standards. She had been cautious, refusing to enter situations where she risked her life. She was also level fourteen, and Chilly knew personally how big of an achievement that was. In addition, she had done it the long way; fighting hundreds of Leviathans and who knew what other monsters to reach the point where she was today.

Was this a case of Gar-Khan being overprotective of his charge, or was the big purple lug right? Was Chaeli not ready?

Chilly knew that it wouldn’t be hard to convince Chaeli to come with him. She was practically dying of boredom here. All it would take was a single alluring word, and they would sneak out with none the wiser. But...

Did he have the right to do that to her?

The thing was...if she didn’t help him, how in the world was he going to fight the Hellbringer and free Sooty? He could try fighting the boss alone, but ironically his build had become significantly less focused since then. Something warned him that if he tried to 1v1 the Hellbringer, he wouldn’t live to tell the tale.