Makvreiss was nowhere in sight. He flew above their heads readied at any sign of an emergency. Vhaerla had trekked through the muddy ground with a new stock of arrows in her quiver, courtesy of the storage brought by Makvreiss. Meanwhile, Rohan was at the forefront, walking slowly as his mind linked up with the five merfolks he brought under his wing.

One of them emerged from the edge of a pond with the mark on its right shoulder. Soon, heavy splashes of water followed after, ringing high as more of them came out. “Don’t hit the merfolk with the mark,” Rohan shouted. Vhaerla heeded well and shot her arrows at those chasing after the marked one.

Rohan went past the marked merfolk and stabbed one right at the gut. It went it as if piercing through soft butter. A forward kick landed across the solar plexus of the merfolk and his estoc broke free from the creature.

[You have gained 3 Exp.]

The marked merfolk took a stand beside Rohan and fought along with its leader. His estoc wrestled the prong of a trident as his mental link barked an order. ‘Take out its leg!’ the marked merfolk followed and the rusty trident in its hand pierced through the slimy chicken leg of the enemy merfolk. A chance was opened, and Rohan slashed the creature with the dagger in his left hand.

[You have gained 3 Exp.]

“I need help here!” Vhaerla ran around through the shallow water, blasting her arrows at these simple-minded water goblins. But they were too many. Rohan and the marked merfolk joined the fray and in time, the tide turned and they won.

Ten merfolks ended up dead. Vhaerla at level four. And Rohan inching closer to breaking through level seven, while at the same time the number of merfolk allies rose to seven. His tactic of luring these creatures into the open turned out to be a good enough plan. Them being the ambusher made their job a lot easier when compared to being ambushed from out of nowhere, lowering the risk of meeting death or being inflicted heavy injuries.

“Good job, Mike,” he said to the marked merfolk. “Oh, yea. I forgot about that.” the merfolk didn't understand him. He relayed his words through the mental link, and Mike the Silu Merfolk scratched the back of its head.

“I still can’t get used to that name,” Vhaerla said. Coming closer to the mastermind of this plan.

Using the marked merfolk as bait, those merfolks chased his merfolks down like they were the betrayer of humanity. Well, in this case, it wasn’t wrong per sey.

“Well get used to it, 'cause Pam is coming,” Rohan said. His mental link blared as Pam another of his merfolk rang of her approaching presence, bringing along a few feisty companies.

The calm water broke, and the battle began yet again. Sword and arrow went fierce against the mushy flesh of these merfolks as one by one they fell. Mike and Pam lessened the burden against the many and their fight went smooth sailing. By the end of it, Rohan reached level seven.

[You have gained 3 Exp.]

[You have level up.]

[You have gained 5 points.]

[Class bonus stat distributed; +1 Arcane, +1 Charisma]

He opened his stats and distributed his points; two to perception, two to endurance, and one to dexterity.

[Rohan Prynne][Lv.7]

[Race: Human]

[Class: Slavemancer]

[HP: 86/100]

[EP: 12/20]

[MP: 24/24]

[Strength: 18]

[Endurance: 10.1]

[Defense: 8]

[Dexterity: 7]

[Arcane: 12.1]

[Willpower: 6]

[Perception: 10.1]

[Charisma: 19]

[Points available: 0]

His stats were all over the place. But he had no choice as the continuous trek and incoming enemies that came in drove, pushed him to place a few in endurance. On the other hand, perception proved to be a useful aid in dodging attacks and perceiving the enemies around him, especially when surrounded.

“Hey . . . Huff . . . I need a breather,” Vhaerla said, heaving. The lass didn’t put any of the points in endurance, ignoring his words. Most of her points were dumped in strength with a few occasional visits to dexterity. One thing was for sure, she was really obsessed with becoming stronger. But her enhanced strength did aid her in her archery. She told him pulling the bow was a lot easier as if the draw weight was as light as feather, and it made him think of something along the line of giving her a bow with the higher draw weight.

“Can’t you tell whatever their name is to stall for a while . . . Huff . . . I’m dying over here,” Vhaerla complained, sweating on her forehead. She chugged a mouthful from her waterskin.

He scoffed. “Next time try to put some points in endurance,” he reminded her. The young lord turned to his estoc and wiped off the blue blood and mucus with a piece of cloth. Doing his maintenance, he wondered whether he could get a skill just from repetitive actions. From his questionable knowledge of isekai-trope, he hoped it was possible since having a passive that involved the sword would definitely make it easier for him to cut down his enemies. And who wouldn’t want new skills? In the coming new world like this, more skills equated more firepower.

The relaxed face he had turned to the south side. An incoming call from Jim warned him of another new batch of enemies. At the same time, Dwight also rang a call in the mental link, reporting the same thing.

“Well that’s going to be a problem,” he said. His brows furrowed, focusing on what was about to come. Determining the numbers wasn’t possible as the merfolks had no clue on how to count, the only way they could convey was either many or not many.

“Heads up, princess. More are coming,” he warned.

Rather than cursing, her face twitched with a frown. Yet the light behind her eyes showed she was readied for anything that would come in her way. She stood up and nocked an arrow on her bow as the taste of getting stronger was sweeter than honey to her. Throughout her life, being weak was all she knew, and if it wasn’t for Makvreiss she doubted she would survive the harsh continent of Valeria.

They fought and they bled. Cries of violence rang at this side of the swampland as Rohan and Vhaerla bathed in the blue blood of their enemies. The young lord was calmer in his approach, far from the nervous lad that fought against the goblin-variant. While Vhaerla savored the taste of close combat with the bow in her right and the dagger in her left. The strength she had was enough to overwhelm any of these merfolks in a one-on-one fight. Even two at the same time weren’t going to be a problem and quite frankly Rohan was impressed by her adaptability in close-quarter combat.

But in a big battle, casualties were hard to avoid.

[The Mark has returned. The Master has inherited a sliver of its random stat; Perception +0.1]

He stared at the sight of Mike dead on the muddy ground. Jim, Pam, and Dwight mourned around Mike as even with the littlest time they had together, they still bonded as kin as well as merfolks who lost their memories.

Rohan watched with cold eyes as the marked merfolks carried Mike on their shoulders and laid the dead corpse in the water. They stood on the shallow water as they watched Mike vanish to the depth of the murky water.

“Hey,” her voice made him turn. “It's war, Rohan, and it’s not your fault.” For once she warmly smiled at him and her beauty was still radiant even when smothered in blue blood. “Let’s move. I think it's better if our base covers a lot of ground,” she said.

“Yea,” he replied. Trailing Vhaerla from behind, and yet for the last time, he glanced back at the water where Mike rested in peace.

A few scuffles here and there, but they handled with ease with their advantage in numbers. Most of the time, a group of four or five would come and attack, but with them having eight all together, they made quick work out of those bunches. Soon the sky turned to dusk, and they found their place where the ground was more solid, far away from any body of water. They made camp. And a fire was made, warming their bodies. The wyvern from above came down, resting for the first time in a while. It snuggled close to his mother as the two of them had never been this apart for that long. Usually, they would stick together beside the occasional trips Vhaerla made to the town. With Makvreiss’ aid, the wyvern dragged those deadfalls and made them into a makeshift tent following Vhaerla’s instructions.

By the time they finished, night had come. Sitting around the campfire, Rohan munched on the jerkies provided by Vhaerla. He stared at the flames lost in his thought. Then a stone hit him at the knee. He looked at Vhaerla as if asking what was that for?

She nodded her head at the marked merfolks who huddled far away from their base camp. “What’s wrong with them? Didn’t you tell them Makvreiss won’t bite?”

He glanced at them. They were far from the light and the warmth of the fire as he figured that it must be due to their physical nature. Something that lived in the water wouldn’t like the heat that could dry them out.

“You have any extra of those?” Rohan asked for more jerkies. She threw him a pouch and he caught it effortlessly. He left the comfort of the flame and met with those six silu merfolks. His links with them were still intact, as they cheered after noticing Rohan’s approach.

‘Master…’ they said. Their mental voices overlapping saying the same word over and over again in a jolly tone. They surrounded Rohan and craned their fish necks towards the human they dubbed Master.

‘You guys hungry? I brought some jerkies,’ he smiled. One by one he handed them the dried meat and within seconds they devoured them all until nothing was left.

‘Master is good…’ they said. Swearing he heard a giggle in between those lines, and for some reason, they were really happy about it. Yet more surprises came.

[ +40 Likeness to Pam]

[Pam’s Relationship: 90(Loyal)]

[ +40 Likeness to Jim]

[Jim’s Relationship: 90(Loyal)]

[ +40 Likeness to Dwight]

[Dwight’s Relationship: 90(Loyal)]

…

All of them were the same thing besides the different names. He was shocked it was this easy in gaining those likenesses as these merfolks were much simpler creatures than he thought.

‘More Master?’ Pam asked. Holding her webbed palm forward like a kid asking for candy. If he ignored the ugly fish head, the merfolk might be cute in a way.

‘I will if you call me Boss and not Master,’ he said.

Even to a monster, the word Master didn’t feel right to him. Pam held the meat jerky up high and shouted in her merfolk’s language. The rest gathered around Rohan as he heard within the mental link, repeating ‘Boss’ over and over again. Soon, the pouch was empty. The merfolks danced around him with jerkies in their hands and mouths as if celebrating a festive season like it was the end of harvest day.

Smiling, he felt happy over these aquatic humanoids. Despite the marks he gave them, all of them seemed free, unlike the others who seemed to be driven by an unending rage that could never be quenched.

[ +10 Likeness to Pam]

[Pam’s Relationship: 100(Unto Death)]

[ +10 Likeness to Jim]

[Jim’s Relationship: 100(Unto Death)]

…

The messages didn’t end there as something he did not expect reached his eyes.

[Congratulation, Pam(Silu Merfolk) reached a 100 in likeness. Class Hidden Trait activated. Skill Inheritance commenced.]

[You have inherited one of Pam’s(Silu Merfolk) skills. You have learned Low-light Vision.]

[Congratulation, Jim(Silu Merfolk) reached a 100 in likeness. Class Hidden Trait activated. Skill Inheritance commenced]

[You have inherited one of Jim’s(Silu Merfolk) skills. You have learned Enhanced Swimming.]

[Congratulation, Dwight(Silu Merfolk) reached a 100 in likeness. Class Hidden Trait activated. Skill Inheritance commenced.]

[You have inherited one of Dwight’s(Silu Merfolk) skills. You have learned Silu-Merfolk’s Language.]

…

The other three merfolks showed the same thing. Overlapping with the previous skill gain, they weren't wasted as they added up to the skill’s level. Low-light Vision rose to level three, while Enhanced Swimming raised to level two.

“This is…” Rohan was lost for words as he had never expected such a thing. Although the skills didn’t seem much, the possibility of this hidden trait could bring was endless. Hope bloomed in him as his trust in random luck might not be that bad after all.

The sounds of dead trees breaking echoed from his back. He turned as he saw Makvreiss spreading its wings wide and making a mess out of the camp they made. The almost sleeping Vhaerla turned frantic, trying to calm the wyvern down. Yet the creature wouldn’t listen. It glared in a direction and let out its thundering roar. Before Rohan could even turn in that direction, something ripped the air apart, like a missile passing through.

A wailing roar sprang out from the jaws of Makvreiss, howling to the sky. Blood spurted from the top of his shoulder, bathing the ground with its crimson blood. “Makvreiss!” Vhaerla shouted. She was stunned.

The glimmer at his peripheral vision turned his head at the area behind the wyvern. Immediately, his Low-light Vision came into play, and he saw what it was, and he was shaken. A metal trident jutting from the ground like it was Excalibur stuck on the stone.

“It’s here . . . The dungeon boss is here.”