The audience in the crowd dissipated into a fine mist shortly thereafter, leaving a sea of possessions behind.

Nobody but Huay paid it any mind. Jordan was unconscious, Beale was writhing in pain, and Salein was already busy treating their wounds.

“They’ll live,” Salein said, her voice quivering, “They have to…”

Huay clenched her fist. She was uninjured and, looking at the others, a stomach-churning level of guilt came over her. Huay had known that the dungeon would be dangerous, but the thought that the situation might come to this never occurred. She had been too preoccupied with her own misfortune to worry about anyone else.

Salein spoke softly. “Why did you lie about your level? You’re going to get all of us killed...”

“I… It was…” Huay struggled to answer. It was all her fault. She knew that. “I’m sorry...”

Salein took a moment to collect herself, then glared firmly at Huay. “I asked you to tell me why you lied. An apology isn’t enough.”

Huay stared down at her feet. “I would have died either way… I was… stranded at the dungeon… And I… I needed money. People kept telling me that I'd... burn to death if I stayed out in the open.”

“So go with the fucking kids then! You’re around their level, right? Don’t drag all of us into it.”

“Well… You’re the one who accepted me into the group in the first place! Shouldn’t you have done a better job with vetting me?!”

“You’re blaming me for your lie? How did you even get an Ability? You’re pathetic.”

“I don’t fucking know! I got fucking shot, you prick! Next thing I know I wake up in this fucking hellhole of a desert hearing a fucking voice in my head and seeing the level of every fucking grain of sand around me! What the hell do you want from me?! I didn’t even know what ‘levels’ were until yesterday, okay?!”

“You’re insane. Okay? You’re actually insane,” Salein said. “Just shut the fuck up. My friends are dying because of you.”

Huay had nothing more to say. She immediately regretted the outburst, but it was too late to take anything back. All she could do was stand alone, away from the others. She turned her back to Salein and burst into tears of self-pity mixed with self-hatred.

Salein was holding back tears herself. She was much better at it than Huay—a result of her career as a soldier—but even someone like her couldn’t stay composed looking at the state her comrades were in.

Jorlaan’s entire face was charred with serious burns. But those were treatable. Some Buhayra Water would at the very least make the pain more manageable, and at level 18 he’d recover faster than the average person. The real injury was not immediately obvious. With a glance into Jorlaan’s mouth, Salein could tell it was his entire respiratory system that had seen the worst of it. His throat was black from burns and she could only imagine what the damage in his lungs looked like. It was a miracle that he could breathe at all.

Beale was doing much better. There were several dislocations, multiple broken bones, and a torso now almost entirely purplish and swollen with bruises. She would be able to walk, but not much beyond that.

Salein glanced over and saw that Huay was unharmed. “What level are you?”

Huay wiped away her tears. “Level 9… I was level 7 before this fight.”

“You gained two levels from a single fight?”

“That’s what the voice said.”

“And is there something else you’re hiding?”

“What do you mean?”

“That kind of growth is abnormal. It can take several months to a year to gain a level. Not even someone using XP Boosting items against a much stronger opponent could accomplish that kind of effect.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t know what levels were until yesterday and I still don’t really understand...”

“What does your statsheet say?”

“Statsheet?”

“Yes. What does it say?”

“What is a statsheet?”

Salein sighed. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. Just think about your statsheet. It should pop up in your mind.”

“Okay…” Huay was unsure as to what Salein was asking. Even still, she closed her eyes and tried to bring forth whatever strange entity she was talking about.

Name: Huay Celashen

Level: 9

Type: Human

Titles: N/A

Abilities:

- N/A

Effects:

- Accumulation: Grants the ability to see levels & Augments all status developments.

Certifications:

- Heat Resistance [Basic]

- Hawkeye [Novice]

- Sound Detection [Novice]

- Hiking [Novice]

- Investigation [Novice]

- Burglary [Novice]

- Bartering [Novice]

“What am I looking at?”

“Your statsheet, I pray. What does it say?”

“There’s a lot of stuff.”

“Check your Effects tab. Anything there?”

“Uh, yeah. It says… Accumulation?"

“Never heard of it. How'd you obtain it?"

“I just… woke up and it was there? That’s all I can say…”

Salein sighed. “And what does it do?”

“It umm… Well, it says here that it Grants the ability to see levels & Augments all status developments.”

“That seems too good to be true. Is that really what it says?”

“Yes.”

“All that and you’re not even level 10… You said that my hand had a level earlier. Does that apply to other things?”

“Uh… This colosseum is level 28 and the air here is level 7. Seems like everything has a level.”

“Hmm… If that’s the case, why don’t you use your power to check for "high-level" items in the stands? Anything is better than standing here and talking.”

Huay rose to her feet. The arena had changed somewhat since the death of the miniboss. The most obvious change was the absence of the crowd, but there were other things too. The red door had reappeared at the center of the area and a series of bridges and ladders hung from the walls at regular intervals.

“So I just climb the ladder, right?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“Sorry.” Huay was glad to have an assignment. She hoped that maybe Salein’s opinion of her would rise if she did well and, with her ability, Huay felt reasonably confident.

She noticed that her body felt lighter than usual as she climbed the ladder. Her breathing was less strained as well. Did the level-ups do that? Huay felt a little guilty about having benefited from the fight, but the feeling of having magically “cheated” her way to better health was undeniably pleasant.

Once atop the ladder, the search began. Anything below level 10 was junk: bloodstained clothes, rusty swords, and torn-up shoes averaged about level five. The worst items hovered in the 2 to 3 range, things like spoiled booze or maggot-infested meats.

Higher-level items were nicer. Anything above level 15 showed clear signs of quality craftsmanship: steel-bladed weapons, exotic liquors, and pristine wool bedrolls. The designs were minimalistic and exuded simple functionality.

But it was only the objects above level 20 that struck her as worthy of collecting. Her power allowed her to scan hundreds of objects per second and, as such, it did not take long to pick out a few diamonds in the rough.

There wasn’t much thought in it. She racked up a solid collection of rings and necklaces and other trinkets without much trouble. Any other accessories above level 20 tended to have at least one or two jewels inside and she imagined those would fetch a decent price.

Huay also took the looting as a chance to get some much-needed equipment. She didn’t know exactly what the group needed versus what they already had, but she grabbed anything that looked like medicine if it was high-level enough, stuffing it into her pockets to go with the jewelry.

She even debated taking stuff for herself. There was no shortage of weapons or armor in the stands, and some of it was high-level. Huay found a spear, for instance, that was level 23. She thought about gifting it to Beale as an upgrade from the one she’d been using. She hoped that it could serve as an apology for everything that had happened up to then.

A huge longbow at level 23 particularly caught her eye, and she shouted to Salein asking if it’d be a good pick for herself.

“Have you ever used a bow before?” Salein called back.

“No, but I thought I could use it to kill things from a distance.”

“Look for a single-edged sword. You can’t use a bow.”

Huay sighed. “Do you want it? It’s level 23! That’s 7 above the one you have right now.”

“A bow that size would be unwieldy in the tunnels. I’ll pass.”

Huay dropped the weapon, feeling slightly deflated. “What about this spear? It’s better than the one Beale is using.”

“That’s a pike. Beale uses a ranseur.”

Huay didn’t know what either of those words meant but dropped the pike regardless. She wasn’t in a position to argue.

The search continued. There was no shortage of swords and so the task became finding the best one available. Her ability only gave her the levels and so she had to check every item above her arbitrary target of 25 to see if it had a single-edged blade. She found a lot more jewelry during this process and tossed it down from up top whenever her pockets got full.

Huay detected a remarkably high-level item while looking for her weapon, and she couldn’t help feeling a little excited when she first noticed it. Level 32.

The object was some distance away, up several flights of stairs, but when she got there, Huay was surprised to see that it was an inconspicuous silver ring. Picking it up for a closer look, she saw that there was a tiny insignia printed on the inside. It was the same one that had been emblazoned onto the robes of the Baranzaars. Did it belong to some guy from their family? Maybe I should keep it safe so I can return it to them if I survive. If I tell the others, they’ll just claim it for themselves.

She picked up the ring and, out of curiosity for what could justify such a high level, slid it onto her index finger.

“Effect added. Baranzaar Pocket Gauntlet: The hand on which this ring resides takes on the properties of a heavy metal gauntlet when attacking or defending.”

Nothing felt any different. The description said it only applied while attacking or defending, though. She decided to try it out. Clenching her hand into a fist didn’t seem to do anything special.

Huay decided to tap the ground and heard the sound of metal clinking against concrete when she made contact. I see. So just wearing this ring can give me magical powers? She punched the backside of a seat. A loud thud resounded throughout the area but her hand itself was uninjured. She was just about to throw an even harder punch when Salein interrupted.

“What happened?” she yelled.

“Nothing! Just looking around.”

Salein scoffed and turned away.

Huay hid the ring in her pocket and continued her search for a proper sword. She decided that the ring would serve her well until she was out of the dungeon.

The colosseum was a large, sprawling place. She walked around for another ten minutes or so, picking up various trinkets along the way to add to the collection. There was nothing else quite as high level as the ring, but a few things came close: a level 26 goblet mostly comprised of solid gold, a gigantic level 24 shield too big to bring, and a few other oddities. The hard part was determining what could fit in the group’s knapsack.

As the search went on she stumbled upon a few promising-looking weapons. Most of the swords were either too long, too heavy, or too gimmicky. Some of them were right out of a video game: a sword with a thin, seven-foot blade that looked like she could snap it over her knee, a fencing sword that gave her a small electric shock whenever she touched it, and a few other eccentric creations that made her understand why their owners had died.

Eventually, she found what she was looking for: a lightweight, single-edged sword that came in at a whopping level 29. Huay was able to recognize the tool as a scimitar, its curved blade making that clear even to her. The artistry was immaculate, with fanciful gilded patterns running down the handle and back of the blade. On the front side, there was an inscription in bold letters.

“SANDIVER II. Smithed by Razaan Jinthraa for the use of Gradle Charria.”

There was no matching scabbard for the blade and so Huay walked around until she found one that fit well enough to use. Huay secured the holder around her waist and inserted the blade. It would be a reliable weapon, she thought—so long as she could figure out how to use it.

Huay looked down at Salein and the others. Both Beale and Jorlaan were conscious by then. Beale had even managed to stand up and check the pile of loot Huay had collected. She seemed somewhat pleased by the treasure but remained distraught. Her wounds were serious, and she had to limp around to walk. Jorlaan was still immobile, and his breathing was irregular.

Now with the ring and a weapon to use, Huay decided that she had found enough. Jorlaan and Beale were too weakened to be shouldering fully loaded bags. She started walking down the stairs and eventually descended the ladder to the arena.

Beale greeted her with a solemn expression. “You did a good job with the looting. I don’t think we could have found this much even with a few days of work. And the medicine you found will help Jorlaan’s recovery.”

“Thanks,” said Huay. “I’m… sorry, by the way. This is all my fault...”

“It’s… fine,” she stared off into the distance. “Just do better going forward. I heard you leveled up. And that you didn’t know what levels were until yesterday?”

“Yeah. It’s all new to me. I’m sorry. I should have spoken up sooner.”

“That’s true. But again, too late now,” Beale said. “I talked a bit with Salein, and we’re going to be staying here for the night. We’d stay longer, for Jorlaan to recover, but our rations are limited. So, why don’t you get in some practice with the sword? It looks like you found a good one. Mind if I take a look?”

“Uh, yeah. Please.” Huay approached and gave her the blade in its sheath.

Beale took it out and examined the edge. “So I was right… Sandiver 2, huh? It’s a Razaan.”

“Is that the maker’s name?”

“Yes. He’s quite famous. I’m going to commission a spear from him someday, once I can afford it.” She ran her finger down the back. “This is one of his earlier works. It probably dates back fifty years or so. He’s up to the fifth Sandiver by now, Oosmir owns that one.”

“Oosmir?”

“You seriously don’t know? Oosmir is the Chief of Clan Charria and Governor of Misrafal. But we can talk about this after we clear the dungeon. For now, though, you ought to train.” Beale put the sword back in its sheath and handed it back to Huay. “Give it a swing. I want to see your form.”