Cleaning up the main inn hall after Flameforge’s celebration was the easiest job Dallion had done in this world. The guild captain had made everyone mend everything in sight under the pretense that it was part of their training. More likely, she was displeased that a member of her guild had lost a duel and wanted to teach everyone else a lesson. That was alright with Dallion, especially since his hunch had proven to be true—skills could be combined in interesting ways. Now, more than ever, he was relieved that he had managed to get his forging skills.

That’s one solid door, Dallion thought, looking at it with his awakened skills. As it turned out, music and forging allowed him to see the structure—which included structural weaknesses—of most metal objects. Dallion had used the same trick to find some pans and pots that needed mending in while serving food during the night. He had ventured into their realms to confirm his suspicion and found it to be correct. The pots appeared perfectly fine on the outside, but their labyrinths revealed a few hidden flaws. Mending had felt satisfying, although didn’t grant him any achievements or skill increases. For that he would have to rely on missions and standard item improvements again.

You did well, Nil said as Dallion lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Of course, you know you have made yourself a target now. Guild conflicts are a big thing, and they don’t always follow the rules. Word will spread and more people will try to pick a fight with you.

“I know. It was bound to happen sooner or later. After a week it won’t matter, anyway.” After a week and change, Dallion was going to have his individual selection test. Succeed or fail, everyone was going to talk about it, just like they had after his fight with March. “This way I know there’s no turning back.”

An extreme method of training, although it has its benefits. Personally, I still think that you need to spend more time reading. You’re starting to get a good base, but it’s still shaky. You won’t be able to rely on your ingenuity forever.

“Maybe.”

While Dallion agreed, in his mind there remained a voice whispering that it was all about the stats. In his brief experience as an awakened, Dallion had faced a fair number of enemies. In most cases, the reason he had won was because his opponents were evenly matched. If Dherma’s village chief hadn’t been limited by the armor echo, there was no way Dallion could have won against him. If he hadn’t received the dartbow, he might not have defeated the Sandstorm Dragon. Did it really make such a big difference that he was a double digit now? Vend and Eury could take him out without breaking a sweat, not to mention common furies got the better of him.

“What level is considered a good level?” he asked.

What do you mean? The echo wondered.

“At what point do I stop being one of the weak ones?”

You’ve already stopped being a “weak” one. You know the hierarchy: semi, full, double digit. Most people don’t want to hear that, but about three quarters of all awakened end up here. Unless you have access to a large awakening shrine, getting to level twenty is a feat that requires persistence, dedication, and destroying all impurities within you.

“Impurities.” Dallion let out a chuckle.

It’s a scientific term. Sounds better than cracks.

“Okay, though I would have used flaws.”

Flaws are different. They are part of your behavior paradigm and require personal and long-term work to be removed. Impurities are what you could remove in a day using shortcuts. If it wasn’t like that, I would have gotten rid of my gambling problem ages ago, the echo let out a sad laugh. Drinking, gambling, stealing, all these are part of the person. As nice as it would be to get rid of them by slashing a creature of the awakened realm, we can’t.

“I see your point.” That made Dallion feel a bit better. “So, I’ve reached the average threshold?”

If you want to be pedantic, the average range is between thirteen and seventeen. Most people can’t progress after that. You will, though.

Here it came again. Dallion was getting tired of hearing of his mythical potential. Initially, he had hoped that the echo would reveal some grand secret after Dallion had reached level eleven. Nothing of the sort had happened. The mystical potential was nothing more than a gut feeling the high levels had based on their experience. Personally, Dallion suspected that it had more to do with his creativity and ingenuity in battle.

“So, one quarter are better…”

Who told you a stupid thing like that? The vast majority of that quarter is composed of awakened that haven’t passed their awakening trials. You’ve grown up in a village, you know what it’s like. In many of these small places, a person is considered special if they get to level five. Why do you think so many flock to the cities? And even after that, there are a lot who prefer to remain at single digit and take advantage of the security. All the minor craftsmen, apprentices and assistants especially, prefer to lead a quiet life and make do with the skills they have. If you want to go by the numbers, I’d say four in a hundred reach the next awakening gate.

Four percent. That wasn’t much at all. That explained why Dallion’s grandfather had jumped at the opportunity to join the army. If Aspion’s memories were to be believed, all volunteers had been offered free access to an awakening shrine. If it was a level twenty shrine, that means that a person had the potential to become stronger than ninety-six percent of the awakened out there. Quite tempting, indeed.

As long as you maintain your rhythm, don’t become complacent, and think a bit more before you jump, you’ll do fine, Nil said. Everything else is details.

“I guess so.” Dallion turned to the side. “Night, Nil. Night, all.”

Good night and enjoy your dreams, the dryad shield chimed in. Just don’t overdo it.

“Shut up, shield,” Dallion whispered with a smile. Had he become so transparent? He liked to think not, although he kept on thinking about Eury. At one point the thinking passed into dreaming.

Dallion could see himself in the wilderness again. He was riding a wagon to somewhere. He had no idea where, just that it was very important he arrived on time.

“Nice gear,” Fatun said. The merchant hadn’t changed from the last time Dallion had seen him. Only this time, the wagon was full of weapons and ammunition.

“Thanks. My girlfriend made it for me.”

The other man whistled, impressed.

“I know, I’m a lucky guy.” Dallion laughed. “I just hope I reach her on time.”

“I’m going the best I could,” Fatun grumbled. “It’s bad enough we took this shortcut. The death rate along here is thirty percent.”

“It’ll be fine.” Dallion tapped the hilt of his harpsisword.

“I’m counting on that. What’s the good in earning a huge profit if I’m not there to enjoy it?”

“I hear you.”

So far, they had been extremely lucky. There hadn’t been a single star spawn creature the entire trip. If things continued like this, they would be at their destination in half a day, safe and sound. And then Dallion would finally see Euryale again.

“Keep on driving. I’ll check the cargo.”

“Right. I’ll yell if something pops up.”

Carefully, Dallion moved to the back of the wagon. Wooden crates were everywhere, each with a mark of a waxing blue moon. Dallion opened one. Rows of orange crossbow bolts lined the crates. They looked normal to the naked eye, yet Dallion knew that they weren’t just bolts—they were rockets…

The dream ended abruptly. The next thing he knew, Dallion was back in his bed, and it was already morning. The first thing he did was to enter his guild ring to check for missions. To his surprise, a number of jobs had come up during the night, all relating to sphere items. Apparently, a client had come with a sackful during the night and wanted all of them explored and leveled up. The timing was perfect for Dallion, who needed as many opportunities as possible to level up.

In less than a minute he was washed, dressed, and ready to go.

Hannah was also up to no one’s surprise. Last night she had made a killing, earning well more than expected. Of course, a lot of the profits had immediately gone for food supplies. A large part of the rest had gone to Aspan, who had also demanded a day off—not that Dallion had ever seen him leave the kitchen, let alone the inn.

“I’m skipping breakfast,” Dallion said as he ran past. ”See you at noon.”

“And remember to be on time for once!” Hannah shouted behind him. Despite her rough voice, Dallion saw that she was happy for him.

Twenty minutes later, another standard day at the guild began. The job he had been assigned was a four-level artifact that looked like an abacus. Dallion had no idea why anyone would want something like that improved, but at the end of the day that wasn’t his concern. The item belonged to the client. What they did with it and their money was entirely their decision. All the guild was responsible for was fulfilling its destiny.

The siblings were also assigned to him on this mission. Both were happy to see him and proceeded to dump all their weapons on him the moment they entered the awakened realm. Dallion didn’t mind much. As he had seen, success in such missions was shared, so it didn’t matter who did the final kill.

Watching the Janna and Kallan fight remained a pleasure. Although Dallion had gotten to know the repertoire quite well, their execution remained flawless. Also, his present level of perception allowed him to notice things he couldn’t before. There was a certain rhythm they were following with precision gained through decades of practice. Another interesting thing was that they always focused on the weak spots.

That made them extremely efficient against creatures they had faced, and also explained the hesitancy when they came upon something unknown.

After the third guardian, Dallion asked if he could pitch in. Neither of the siblings had any problems, as long as it was only when fighting the guardian. It was an extremely nice gesture, especially after the lieutenant’s attitude towards Dallion during the big dark exploration interview. Also, it showed Dallion how much he had improved. While forging didn’t grant him any advantage, the ability to combine skills freely, along with Nox’s constant support, allowed Dallion to dispatch a level four guardian almost on his own. The performance was impressive, to the point that the siblings asked him to try and fight the final guardian on his own. They would be there only for support if needed.

The guardian, funny enough, turned out to be a firebird. And thanks to Dallion’s expertise it took less than a minute to defeat. In typical style, though, Dallion didn’t use combat to achieve the win, but slowly chipped away at the guardian’s desire to fight until it agreed to surrender. Lately this was starting to become the preferred outcome for Dallion. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something satisfying in knowing that a guardian just agreed to not fight. It remained unclear if that changed anything in the grand scheme of things. Even Nil wasn’t sure on that subject, but there was definitely less pain involved. At the same time using music to achieve victory was just as difficult as using standard attacks… especially when Dallion had to resort to singing and playing the harpsisword at the same time—a feat he wasn’t eager to repeat anytime soon, since it had brought back the headaches he hadn’t experienced since the selection trial.

One thing at a time, Dallion thought. The important thing was that he had seen double music use to be possible. From here on, it was all a matter of practice.