Armed with two common quality saber knives made of costly consecrated silver, and a ton of mana potions, Carl swiftly picked up the Exorcising skill for one Gold Crown, while the rest of the team stacked up on empty ampules.

[Exorcising] (activable)

Arcane skill, grade 0 (base), entry level.

Effects: Provides a basic chance of retrieving the residue of a defeated ghost.

“Huh, I've wasted less than 1 gold to get Skinning by trial and error … what did I do right? It couldn't have been luck, so was it … my mentality?”

As an expert in finding exploits through experimentation and improvisation, Carl understood the implications full well. Machine learning was wholly based on organic algorithm optimization, not unlike biological evolution. As such, there was a natural, instinctual harmony in AI-developed procedures, and a keen mind could begin to discern patterns as it delved deep into them.

“I'll need all the perception I can get!”

This attribute was the most magical one, as it directly influenced the brain. Supersoldiers with brain implants had long been a thing – they had just insanely enhanced senses, so much so that they could take on whole squads of enemies like in action movies.

Now, there were downsides to this as well – overtaxation. It wasn't feasible to run those processes non-stop, there had to be ample rest, otherwise the senses could become impaired. Carl could only wonder how Cybercore tackled this issue. Would there be more system aid with higher perception values? After all, he was already getting some from merely buffing to 25, and his base perception of 20 felt just like in real life, meaning Cybercore raised the bar to allow themselves more wiggle room for accommodating inhuman boosts, while dulling the senses of anyone who had less than that.

Either way, this was fascinating. The rush he got from drinking the potion was so potent, he was even tempted to down another one for no good reason. This could easily spark an addiction … which Cybercore would never allow, for obvious legal repercussions. Though they pushed the envelope in many regards, they also held no indecision when suspending troublesome accounts, as everyone who wished to play Immortal Frontier had to accept stringent terms of service, basically giving the company a free reign.

Rejoining Weaving Fate, Melting Heart, Attractive Ion, Psionic Voidspawn and Rygur Hellfire, another entropic mage, Carl got his share of ampules to carry and went over to a terminal to pick up his tutorial quests.

“Hmm, what is this?”

(Tutorial Quest)

Retrieve written clues documenting the fate of the abandoned outpost Camp Redmont. Rewards depend on the amount of information:

Note – 10 Silver Sterlings;

Diary – 1 Gold Crown;

Ledger – 10 Gold Crowns.

“Fate, I think I have a new quest here, Camp Redmont, does that ring a bell?”

“Yes, you unlocked it by conquering the black wolves' den. The vice guild leader already checked it out, says it's not worth it. There's wolves of all species roaming the map or hiding in the buildings, often dire wolves. It would be a great place for newbies to try their luck if it was available to them, but for us it's very disadvantageous. I know 10 gold for a ledger sounds very tempting, but think of how large the dungeons are, brother Lionheart.” The enchantress smiled wistfully. “Probably only you could move through them freely, but how many ledgers could you find on your own?”

“Hmm, what about the dungeon rank? Is it 5 or 6?”

“No telling at this point. If it's 6, then even you might get in trouble if you try using a Scroll of Danger.”

“Multiple horrid wolves?” Carl smirked with anticipation. “That wold be interesting.”

“Haha!” The woman chuckled awkwardly. “Please, don't even joke around with this idea.”

Committing this quest to his memory, Carl took the two relevant ones.

[Active Quests] (4)

…

(Tutorial Quest)

Retrieve the spectral dust of ghosts found in the instanced dungeons. Rewards depend on the ghost variety:

Ghost (common, grade 0) – 4 Silver Sterlings;

Ghost (wretched, grade 0) – 6 Silver Sterlings;

Ghost (crazed, grade 0) – 8 Silver Sterlings;

Wraith (common, grade 0) – 10 Silver Sterlings;

Wraith (wretched, grade 0) – 15 Silver Sterlings;

Wraith (crazed, grade 0) – 20 Silver Sterlings;

Penitent (common, grade 0) – 30 Silver Sterlings;

Penitent (wretched, grade 0) – 45 Silver Sterlings;

Penitent (crazed, grade 0) – 60 Silver Sterlings;

Spectral Decanus (grade 0) – 20 Silver Sterlings;

Spectral Tesserarius (grade 0) – 30 Silver Sterlings;

Spectral Optio (grade 0) – 40 Silver Sterlings;

Spectral Centurion (grade 1) – 5 Gold Crowns.

(Tutorial Quest)

Help exorcise ghosts in instanced dungeons. Rewards depend on the ghost variety:

Ghost (grade 0) – 1 Silver Sterling;

Wraith (grade 0) – 2 Silver Sterlings;

Penitent (grade 0) – 1 Silver Sterling;

Specter (grade 0) – 5 Silver Sterlings;

Specter (grade 1) – 1 Gold Crown.

“Oh, so they're symmetrical?” Carl noticed.

“Yes, including the hidden benefits. While hunting living creatures drives your reputation with the Expedition Association and gets you better terms from NPC henchmen, exorcising ghosts earns you merit for temple services. Unfortunately, you can't check how much you've gained until you ask for a discount,” Weaving Fate informed.

“Is it a one-time deal?”

“Of course, don't be silly, brother Lionheart.” She laughed genially. “How amazing would it be to receive a permanent discount? The prices there are so unfair!”

Smiling internally, Carl addressed a glaring discrepancy.

“What if I take NPCs to the haunted dungeons? Will I earn double benefits?”

“No-no. They won't go there no matter how hard you entice them. This seems to be the only asymmetry.”

“Really? Interesting …”

Stepping through the portal, Carl was engulfed in an embrace once more – but this time, it wasn't pleasant at all. It was a cold, empty void, that led him into a desolate land with stifling air and a dark, wicked ambience. A huge, bright moon illuminated the deathly still night, and the eerie silence was a bad omen – it meant there was no life in this place. The ground was barren, the sparsely standing trees dried up, the bushes withered, and the distant black shapes morphed upon close inspection, threatening to be some … thing – or someone.

“This isn't a good place for grinding.” Carl shook his head solemnly. “Are all the haunted dungeons like this?”

“Haha! Scared yet?” The elven warlock grinned mischievously, seeing his serious expression.

“What do you mean, brother Lionheart?” Weaving Fate investigated, aware of some underlying reasoning. In their – and everyone else's – opinion, haunted dungeons were absolutely the best for grinding proficiencies. Ghosts didn't flee, they weren't fast, and were subject to herding, so that they could be then taken out with concentrated fire. With proper strategy and technique, they could also be wiped out efficiently enough to pay for all the mana potions and bombs. Experience gain was many times faster here than anywhere else, so how wasn't it a good place?

“You are what you eat,” Carl explained simply, wearing a scowl. “It would be fine to temper oneself here deliberately, but if you treat it as a job, then it will take a toll on you eventually. All this is mental oppression, which you have to continuously combat in order to resist corruption. It would take advantage of every opportunity, of every moment of weakness, to slowly creep up on you and change you without being immediately apparent. Is your character resilient enough that you're confident in staying true to yourself when confronting your demons while exhausted?”

“What kind of nonsense are you talking about?” Psionic Voidspawn asked derisively, amused by the warning.

“Just sharing my concerns. You don't have to listen if you don't want to, but I recommend going to relaxing places whenever you feel too tired for comfort. Personally, I find the midday forest to be ideal for grinding,” Carl advised candidly.

“Pfft, okay, whatever,” the warlock snorted. “Just read the scroll.”

“Very well.”

“Spirits of the fallen, I challenge you on this battlefield!”

This time, Carl felt it. Maybe it was the dreary ambience, or maybe the effects were that much more potent. Maybe both. Something within him shuddered – not quite his mana, but some similar construct nonetheless. An extra sense that Cybercore neatly implemented into the wide array of biological receptors, likely as a mix of different signals to mask its ordinary nature.

“Awesome. Follow me,” the contemptuous elf directed blithely.

“Hmm? Can he track the ghosts?” Carl asked of the others.

“Sure, we can all see magical signatures with Arcane Vision, a peak grade 0 skill,” Attractive Ion confirmed. “He has the highest level, though. He's playing on the 2nd realism setting, like the vice guild leader.”

The team traveled the rugged terrain swiftly. Despite a lack of features, the rocky hills and steep ravines made it impossible to see very far. Many old scars mired the monotonous landscape, remnants of ancient war, long eroded and almost indistinguishable.

Having nothing better to do, Carl checked his stats.

Charles Lionheart, human, male:

Health: 101 (0/s)

Mana: 201 (6.5/s)

Strength: 10

Vitality: 10.1

Agility: 5.2

Intelligence: 20.1

Willpower: 21.7

Perception: 20

“Heh, my Champion's Conviction is so pathetic right now that it barely registers …”

The display didn't show decimals for health and mana pool, only for their regeneration. Carl adjusted the buff according to the formula so it would consume as much as his current mana recovery, receiving some 0.135 of vitality boost. But this would drop below 0.1 after his mental enhancement run out, meaning it wouldn't even provide 1 health point any more. Of course, this was merely the entry level, so it was bound to be pitiful.

What thrilled him, however, was the discovery of an intelligence hack, if it could be called as such – just learn high quality skills! This would be incredibly costly, but as a side effect it would also expand his arsenal. A thought to reset his account and restart with maxed out physical constitution alongside 5 in intelligence and willpower came over him, but he decided against it. For one, it would take time and investment to recover his mental prowess, but more importantly, he was in too deep with the Skyborne Lions and with his quest for the NPC wannabes. Luckily, this was a tutorial, and he now had a killer plan for the full version.

[Pain Freak] (passive, requirements: 25 willpower, exposure to pain 261 847/1 000 000)

“Mhm, very good. The willpower gains are slowing down, but should be on course for 25. Shame my body can't handle much more pain, or I would easily be there already.”

It had been 10 minutes, and it seemed the scroll had worked, as they hadn't seen any ghosts on their way. It was time to get ready.

“So guys, what's the battle plan? Just shell them as they converge on us?”

“No-no, absolutely not.” Melting Heart chuckled. “We'll be kiting them. First, we will tag the one most distant from the rest, which will alert the whole group, then we'll retreat a bit, as we are faster than the wraiths while sprinting, and they'll turn into a mob train, as their speeds are different depending on their rank. Ideally, we want the centurion to take the lead, because it commands the rest and buffs them with charge, so we need to bomb it into oblivion within a couple volleys. Then, we will alternately burst them down with spells and pull back, allowing our mana to fully regenerate in between. We have it drilled to perfection, no worries,” she assured.

“Oh boy, I hope my agility won't trip me up in a key moment … that would be so embarrassing …”

“Just don't get overrun by them, or they'll reduce your stamina to the point where you won't be able to keep up with us any more,” Psionic Voidspawn added bluntly. “Honestly, you shouldn't even think about engaging them, just throw the grenades and leave the rest to us. You won't help, and you can only bring disaster upon us all. Now heads-up, they must be behind that hill. Get your energy drinks and focus.”

And there they were – a quarter thousand of them, as predicted by Carl's experience in the gray wolves' den.

“What in the …”

“Why are they so huddled up together?!”

“The centurion noticed us …”

“Abort! They're too concentrated!”

“Run!”

Carl knew it was over. The spectral centurion had all the wraiths under its influence … and they were charging. Retreat was pointless – they'd get caught and picked apart within a few hundred meters.

“Brother Lionheart, run!” Weaving Fate pleaded desperately.

But Carl stood unmoving …

“No.”

His mind was set.

“You run.”

He dropped his backpack and drew the ornate silver saber knives.

“This is my fight.”