Gabriel took out his underwear and boots from the pile of things he had left behind and put them on.

The leather suit, he put in his bag after freeing a little space by drinking an Energy potion and gulping down a Spirit balm.

The bag, still the one Com had given him, did not close anymore, but at least it contained everything he needed.

He counted 4 Mana potions left, 5 Spirit balms, and 5 Energy potions, but he needed something else. His throat demanded water just as his stomach asked for food.

Shaking his head, Gabriel focused on something else.

The newly created Meridians felt empty. They demanded Energy. He knew it would be wise to allocate Energy in them, but he couldn't merely empty his Energy pool. It was not smart. So slowly, he decided to fill his Meridians with it.

The process was relatively intuitive, the Perk having cleared the 'passage' and made it as easy as possible.

He felt what he could finally define his core, the place where the weird liquid fire which had to be his Soul was located, 'pour' Energy inside of those minuscule pathways that were his Meridians.

Gabriel infused just 5 points worth of Energy, and after a few seconds in which the Energy moved about, permeating his newly forged pathways, he could already feel that he had access to a vast amount of power, as if he could punch through rock if he so wished. Not that he would try, his remaining hand was very dear to him. At least he would wait for the other to grow back.

Let's not forget the pain of punching a rock. What if it breaks my hand? What then? Yeah, no reason to uselessly test it… right, Liz?

Liz, of course, disdained that type of thinking. She was a creature of pride… partly. So, she shook her head.

Giving her the tongue, Gabriel decided to venture forth. Almost fully naked, his right arm a pulsing stump, and an open backpack hanging from his shoulders, but greatly thankful for his lizard friend's return, he ventured forth among spirits and spiritual constructs.

***

Dustille witnessed Sigmund wake up while they carried him over the plains. The forest behind them had partially caught on fire, and they had to get as far away from that place and as fast as possible as well.

"What…" Sigmund said, meekly, shaking from on top of Terry's shoulder.

"Sig, don't move too much. We did not apply any Life potion to you. Your state is critical."

"How…" he tried to ask.

"You. You saved us. I don't know what you did, but you suddenly grew much stronger than I could ever imagine and blew up the already damaged Tyrant with one of your attacks."

"Dikez…" But Dustille did not answer this time. Her voice broke, remembering Charlene. And her scorched corpse.

"Dikez died, Vairstrazz. I'm sorry, and so did our Charlene and Greencliff." Terry added that last part with a low growl.

Dustille distinctly heard Sigmund cry softly. Her eyes once again wetted as she tried to exert power over her own pain, to make it subside as long as they still treaded in dangerous lands.

"At least..." tried to say, Sigmund, "at least you're fine... uncle Marcle won't have to despair today."

Marcle... all Dustille wanted right now was to be in his arms and not think about anything else.

They were close to one of the exits when they saw another party… Dustille quickly counted them. There were eight of them. Two parties waiting by an exit? Why are they standing there?

"Dustille!" Came a voice. It was Carla's.

She could perceive Sigmund's hiccup and stop crying.

The group ahead turned to regard them. Some raised their weapons up, only to lower them down once they realized that they were sentients; the tension was palpable.

"What happened?" She shouted, going toward them. "Where are the others?"

At this point, Dustille and the others reached the group.

Terry lowered Sigmund on the ground, the giant boy wobbling on his legs, fell forward only to be taken in Carla's arms.

Olive was there, waiting immobile, white as a ghost, her expression was terrified.

"They are dead…" Sigmund said. Carla shook, then tightened her embrace on Sigmund while a giant, by the looks of his clothes and weaponry, a healer, guessed Dustille, rushed forward to help Sigmund. He snatched him from Carla's iron embrace and made him sit down.

Dustille saw movement. She looked at Olive once again; something had broken in the girl.

She thinks her mate has died. I need to clarify it.

"Olivia," she called, closing in on her, "We don't know what happened to Gabriel. He acted weird… but I can't say why last we saw him he was alive, flying away from us… after healing the monster, though." That last part, Dustille said with spite, because when she really thought about it, the group might have killed the Tyrant without any loss if the hummie hadn't healed it back up to full.

I almost feel like… like it's all his fault.

One too many feelings passed in front of Olivia's face, relief, anger, sadness, surprise, maybe even expectancy… not that Dustille could recognize what that sense of expectancy was tied to, but her Sixth Sense gave her help in interpreting it as weird. Anyway, those feelings were washed away by the next thing she discovered from the group.

The Dungeon had sealed that entrance/exit. Which meant that the Dungeon war had effectively started.

We are stuck. Mighty Odin…

***

"What do you mean it's blocked? I've booked a dungeon permit for today," Darte said.

Nastia's group with Darte in tow was standing on a giant bird with a wingspan of forty feet waiting in mid-air by one of the Dungeon's gates.

The bird did not need to move or breathe. It stood immobile with its outstretched wings on which the party stood.

"Blocked means that something is obstructed, difficult, or impossible to move, small humans. Did they not teach you so at your big trees' school?" Answered the dungeon guard.

Dungeon guards were usually elites among the giant. The one barring their road was surely a Tier 4, at least. Darte could see it from the way he carried himself. He was definitely strong; just by looking at the giant Darte felt a battle thrill. Yet, the situation was probably not ideal for him to challenge anybody or utterly try to kill anybody in that situation.

"You mean the Dungeon is closed for today? Waiting for it to regenerate?" He asked, even calmer than before.

"No, small human, it has sealed its entrances. A Dungeon war or something similar might have started. Didn't you see the envoys running to inform the city? Didn't you see all the other groups heading back down? Yet you are still asking for passage. I didn't think humans could be this rude. Larry was right," the guard said with a smirk.

"My mistake then. I didn't think it would be this kind of problem. Where we come from, Dungeon wars are extremely rare occurrences," Nastia said, interjecting.

"That's your ignorance speaking, halfling. Dungeon wars are not rare where you come from. It's just that you die too fast to notice their passage. If you lived longer, you would notice that the pace is usually the same," answered the guard.

Contrarily to Darte, Nastia was not one to hold back after being insulted.

Sighing, Darte, once again, had to remind the girl to behave, "Stop there, Nastia. Your face looks like you've just got a broom up your butt. The dungeon guard is right on all fronts. Let's just get back and relax, let's drink something." Darte nodded at the chuckling guard, saluting him. The guard saluted back, slightly bowing and tipping his helmet with his spear.

"You're too young to drink, Darte," Fred said.

"But, I'm not too young to kick your ass at shoji," he answered.

"Hey, I just started playing the other day!" Fred answered.

"Well, if it makes you feel good, you will still play like that a year from now," said Sato, "you haven't got the patience for it."

"There they go again…" it was Greta.

"Isn't anybody worried about the state of the Dungeon? What if the Herald dies in the middle of all that chaos?" Asked Prisha.

Nastia was still munching on her teeth. She did not even care about her mission when she was like that.

"Can't do much about it. Without a Champion, there's no way we can get in there. And I'm not going to call on my dad. The Herald's not worth that much for me," Darte said with a grin.

"What about you?" Greta asked, "Can't you do anything about it?"

"Yeah, like what? The Rankings are useless. Like we would have a semblance of choice about who gets to be Champion," he answered.

Nastia threw in her snarky comment, "Are you saying that because of an inferiority complex? Jealous about your sister's climbing?"

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous? I'm in fifth place. She's like three thousand or something," he answered back.

"She's actually around the nine-hundredth place, last I was told," she corrected him.

"Oh! I see someone's really interested in my sister, that must be love! Or maybe, the foolish hope of someone not ever having even made it into the rankings hers-" Darte had been interrupted as the part of the wing of the immense griffon on which he stood, flickered out of existence, and he fell through the sky.

"Better luck next time," Darte said, reappearing behind her.

"The next time, I'll simply kill you for real," Nastia answered.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, clapping her shoulder, "Now, who's up for a giant's burger? I know I am!"

"I am," Fred answered.

"Same!" Prisha added.

Nastia just sighed.

***

Gabriel wandered aimlessly.

It seemed that walking got him nowhere. The walls were of no help at all, just and he couldn't touch the spirit construct or interact with them.

He judged that all those spirits structures were just farming related equipment of the more internally located village, a weird village midway between rural and technologic. A huge statue of some sort of reptile stood at its center.

Spirits, which he now understood, acted in a cycle, repeating their actions every few hours, seemed to live their daily life, until an event took place. Far in the distance, he could see huge dust clouds and other physical phenomena producing one after the other.

Something happened, far in the distance, and he had to reach the place to actually see what was happening, but the chamber was just too big for him to reach the place of interest.

The spirit's reaction to the event was always the same. They all reacted strongly, he could see looks of dread on their faces, and he imagined he would hear screams of terror if he had chosen Spirit Perception over Spirit Sight.

I wonder if one should have all three of those Perks to beat the challenge… if something like that would even be possible. One thing is clear though, one of those Perks was necessary to at least understand what we were dealing with.

"Do you imagine if we could only hear the sounds and smells they made? We might have lost our minds here. I bet those explosions are rather loud. It would have scared the crap out of me," he admitted to a lizard running around aimlessly.

Like he had done before but had gotten tired of, she was gauging her new and improved body and power, adapting to it.

It took them a while to adjust. It felt like a different reality at first, especially walking. With his improved Power and Alacrity, he felt out of place as if gravity was not enough to hold him in place.

The lizard did not care to answer. She instead looked at him then launched backward and up, activating Built to Fly and Burst Attack; she jumped toward the closest wall. There was much power to her jump.

"Is that a challenge!?" Gabriel screamed at her.

Then he did something he finally wanted to try.

He harvested some of the Energy pumping through his Meridians. It took him a few seconds to redirect it only toward his legs, then he did the same as her.

Gabriel burst forth with a scream. He immediately reached a speed he could not imagine, and without being able to stop, he smashed against the wall, fainting briefly. The only thing saving him from a gruesome death by falling from what looked like the height of a forty stories building was his Built to Fly Skill, thankfully retaining its effect.

"Ow, ow, ow…this- this doesn't count!" He said to a laughing-yapping lizard.

Without using any Skill, he kicked the walls, angulating toward the ground. He reached it in just a few seconds.

He had taken a few Life points damage, setting him back to 4; however, his arm had regenerated up to his elbow. Regeneration would slow down for the moment as it acclimatized with his new amount of Life, but it would soon heal his arm completely.

It was a cheat, definitely cheating the 'system', Gabriel recognized, with a smile.

Gabriel continued forth.

He decided that the only thing he could do was reach the place in which the explosions took place. He thought that being on the part of the weird spirit village was the only way to gain insight into solving the challenge.

As he moved toward them, he noticed that contrary to Alter, in that village, or city, given its size and complexity, what was really noticeable was the absence of diversity.

Only one species of sentient was present... The fur-men.

So what did the spirits represent? What was the challenge even about? It was so complex, so detailed, like a reconstruction of an event.

He had never seen something of the like, not even in movies. Their weird rural looking technology, if it wasn't for the clear effects that magic had, like the mill he was looking at currently. He could not see any river, but he was sure that it was there and a spirit, a fur-woman, recognizable by their chest and their much shorter build, made pushing movements toward its wheel-like movements similar to those he had seen Olive do.

There was a certain grace to them. It was different from the Katas he had been taught…

Like in a trance, he stopped there, by the fur-woman, reenacting the Katas three forms.

The first was the Kata of the Tide. It relied on gentle movements, which grew slowly in intensity. It was used to adapt to every kind type of threat. Its forms relied mostly on suppressing aggression, adapting to them, and throwing the enemy out of balance utilizing their own strength and form.

Of course, he was barely a novice to it, there was no way he could be able to utilize it in a battle, but it was worth recalling it and turning its practice into art, especially now that he was stuck in a martial world.

He practiced the Kata of the Tide for an hour. Fighting his anger and thirst. Liz standing by his side, following his movements, adapting them with her shape. As much as she tried to stand for a long time on her hind legs, she had to take breaks and once again go on four legs.

Gabriel thought about rehearsing the other two Katas. The Kata of the Foam, the second one, was the one he had to use the most. A Kata of defense that Olive had him use to defend from her assaults, it focused on breaking the enemy attacks by dispersing their strength with extreme effects but entirely focused on defense, with next to no way of hitting back. Then, there was the Kata of the Surge. A Kata which used overwhelming power to suppress the enemy with one mighty concentrated and continuous series of strikes.

The three Katas were used to shape Water element Magic.

Like Olive had taught him, Soft Magic relied on inputs from rituals, forms, chants, and the like, it was not direct like Hard Magic, and thus the Katas were used to recreate its effect.

The Kata of Tide was used for healing, and utility magic other than standard combat, the Kata of Foam was rarely used, but it was used for passive defense, very effective in enhancing direct stance of defense, or walls, or shields. And finally, the Kata of the Surge was used for direct attacks of overwhelming force.

Gabriel, with a grumbling stomach, decided to go forth. His Mana had yet to be restored to the full, but he activated Built to Fly every once and again, receiving 1% experience for each activation.

While Epiphany still escaped him. As much as he wished to activate the Skill, it had no effects whatsoever, no Mana was consumed, and no experience registered.

Shrugging, he continued forth, lizard in tow.

There was a long road ahead of him, and instead of running toward it or shooting through the air, he decided that it was wiser to go slow and take in as many details as the village as he could.

After another two hours, for the fourth time, the cycle reset.

The series of explosions grew more and more violent and luminous, producing after effects visible even where he stood, which at this point was at roughly a mile of distance from it.

He counted the shocks, fourteen. The final one being almost as strong as a nuclear explosion, which after a flash of light, reaching almost every corner of the city-village, reset the cycle.

An outside attack? Was this some war zone? War zone… Dungeon war. So weird.

He got closer, and after half an hour, he had almost reached the place.

It was a palace. Weirdly so, the roads around the palace appeared in all their glory. They had been made with majestic grace, and all in all, everything was more… beaming. Now that he thought about it, the more he got closer to the palace, at the center of the rural city, the more the structures started looking closer to the real thing as if they had been made with more… passion.

"Monarchy?" He asked Liz.

"Could it be related to a coup d'etat of sorts, maybe?" He asked Liz, without expecting a proper response, if not, as always, a shrug.

The thing made him wonder why she had chosen for him to take Spirit Sight. With Spirit Perception, he might have heard talk, maybe.

Focusing back on his priorities, Gabriel walked around the palace, studying it from the outside before entering.

The guards, spears in hand, or equipped with swords and shields, were not on edge. They were relaxed.

He judged that nobody expected the chaos that was about to unfold.

It was another half an hour since he decided to enter the place that something happened.

A dozen sentients of weird proportions, each hidden by cloaks, covering them almost entirely, appeared. They flew in from the sky, one after the other. And they immediately started slaughtering the guards with practiced finesse.

The assaulters were terrifying.

Their techniques and probably Skills tore through the air, devastating bodies, and structures.

Such oppressive was their power that the guards were rendered entirely powerless. He witnessed one of them remove the head of one of the uselessly struggling guards with one hand, then kicking him in the stern that made it explode in a burst of wind, his insides disappearing in a flowering explosion.

Gabriel gulped, and Liz did the same.

It was a little more than an hour in now, but in a couple of minutes, the aggressors had dispatched all the guards. They broke in the palace, Gabriel in tow.

Inside the palace, Gabriel witnessed another fight.

A few dozen Royal guards, their heavy armor tickling something in his memory, something he could not properly place, stood in defense of the throne room.

The assaulters took the fight to them, which for a few long minutes, felt definitely more balanced.

The attackers right away showed knowledge of the Royal guards' tactics. They started a series of brutal coordinated attacks on certain members of the guards.

As more and more focused assaults punched through their defensive formation and magic circles, the guards' back rear started dying, magic casters' death quickly brought down their defenses. When four, then six of the thirty Royal guards started falling, the battle quickly ticked in favor of the aggressors.

The caped assaulters had yet to receive an instance of major damage. They were superior in all aspects, from personal strength to coordination. Only a dozen or so Royal guards remained, the favor of the battle changed. Then suddenly bursting from the throne room, a huge monster came forth, putting his gigantic fist through the thorax of one of the caped men.

It was an Armored Tyrant glowing in green light.