Not even a prick wound remained after Lux’s treatment of Skiv. If anything, the missing trouser leg was the only lasting damage. The man stood up and walked around just to make sure. Everything was in perfect order.

The firebird chick—which had never gotten so much attention until now—cheerfully zipped from person to person at speeds that made it almost seem like it was teleporting. Each time, it would get a few pats on the head, or as close as one could achieve when attempting to bat a flame, before chirping to its next victim. Dallion’s initial attempts to get the familiar to behave fell on deaf ears, to the point that even the lieutenant sympathized with the situation.

Finally, after Dallion raised his voice mentally, the firebird poofed into his awakening realm, where it got a meowy scolding from Nox.

I really have to find him his own domain, Dallion thought. And preferably soon.

“Ready?” the lieutenant asked.

“Which one do we go for?” Alera asked.

“We start with the closest, then see how things go from there.”

Without complaint, the party started moving. It didn’t take long to get to the edge of the bog. The experience was unlike anything Dallion had seen. As they walked, the brick ground became soft, then outright soggy with the consistency of wet clay—or as the more experienced guild members called it “wet land.”

At this point, Alera took the lead, setting the path for the rest to follow. As much as Dallion focused, neither his current perception nor his music skills helped him see any difference in the surrounding terrain. However, he was pretty certain it would be a bad idea to venture off the invisible path set by the others.

Suddenly, Nox let out a low hiss in his realm.

“Cracklings,” Dallion said instinctively.

“You sure?” the old man who was in front of him asked.

“My familiar can feel them,” Dallion said without going into detail which familiar he was talking about. “They are either near or they are big.”

“Alera?” the lieutenant asked. “See anything?”

“Nope, but that isn’t a guarantee.” The woman replied. “Center’s a few miles off. They can be hiding somewhere.”

“Cracklings in a rust drain. Been a while since we’ve seen that,” Spike commented. “Sounds like fun.”

“You don’t know what the word means,” the second woman said with a sigh. Her voice was unusually high for her body, giving the impression that she could shatter glass just by laughing. “I think we have a burrower.”

“What’s a burrower?” Dallion asked.

“A burrower is a nasty symbiosis of stench and corrosion,” the lieutenant explained. “Cracklings do the damage and prepare the ground, then the stinkers move in. They know not to mess with each other, but if something like us appears, they are sure to react, sometimes even join forces. We’re very lucky that the creatures in the house remained wild. Otherwise we might be looking at a few weeks of cleaning.”

Weeks? That was far longer than Dallion had ever been in a realm, although if Veil and Gloria hadn’t appeared to help him, it might well have taken him that long.

As the party explained some of the details, Dallion got to know a new side of area realms. Often, especially with abandoned areas, the destructive creatures tended to evolve. Given enough time they didn’t stop at villages, but created small towns, potentially even cities. Destroying old rot at times was the equivalent of sieging, infiltrating, or otherwise sabotaging a fortified castle with the specific goal of destroying the main source of damage or corruption.

From a certain aspect, the awakened took the role of horsemen of the apocalypse, bent on destroying everything there is and purging the realm of all existence. Dallion knew very little about crackling society, as did most people he’d asked, including Nil, but it still somehow felt as if the awakened ones were the evil ones here. True, they were helping the area guardians from being destroyed, but did that make it right? Surely there had to be another way—it was through that way that Dallion had made Nox his familiar. Back in the well, nothing stopped him from killing the small cub there and then. Showing a bit of kindness had proved a far better approach for everyone, including the Well guardian.

I told you that things were complicated, dear boy, Nil said. Scholars didn’t come up with the hypothesis that the races might be evolved cracklings out of nowhere. There are still many things we don’t know about the world and the realms, and far twice as much that we know wrong.

After another few hundred feet, Nox let out a loud warning meow, making Dallion stop in his tracks.

“It’s close,” Dallion said.

Music. He looked around. There were too many strands of emotions in the bog to make anything out. However, in one area, he thought he saw a new set of emotions shining through. Having the ability to see different colors and not just shades of blue would have been quite useful right about now.

“There.” He pointed to the area in question. “Deep underneath.”

“Are you sure?” Spike asked.

“No, but I see more emotions in that spot, none of them positive.”

“We’re still way off the center,” Alera said. “Maybe a group has clustered off?”

“Or maybe the place is large enough to have several burrowers,” the lieutenant mused. “June, are you up for a go?” he turned to the woman clad in armor. She was the only one who had re-summoned her equipment since the tick encounter. Most of the rest had only bothered to get better boots and foot guards.

“We’ll be tipping our hand if we’re wrong. Dal, how certain are you?”

“Ninety percent,” Dal said, although in his mind he was thinking fifty-fifty.

“You better be right about this.” The woman narrowed her eyes. Her emotions screamed that she would be very upset at him if he messed this up. “Ale, any good spots?”

“Yeah, give me a moment.” Alera took a few steps to the side. A set of green markers appeared around her. “Should be safe here.”

“Make a circle,” the lieutenant ordered. “June, do your thing.”

Pieces of armor and other gear appeared on the party members as they got into position. As before, Dallion was left in the center, safely surrounded by his teammates.

“Need any support?” he asked, holding his harpsisword. “I can boost as well.”

“No,” the lieutenant replied instead of June. “Save it for the cracklings. If they appear, I want you to slow them down. If it’s something else, make them dizzy.”

“Got it.” So those were the two status effects that were most efficient… good to know.

June slowly made her way to the suspected spot of cracklings. At every step, she sank a few inches. Soon, the bog was to her waist, and still she kept on walking as if nothing had happened. Whatever her body level was, it had to be impressive.

Reaching into the air, the woman summoned a set of large curved daggers the likes of which Dallion had never seen before. The closest thing he could compare them to were scythe heads, only twisted around their axis.

Art fighter, Nil said helpfully. Difficult to achieve, but once you get there, it’s rather deadly. With enough practice and anatomy knowledge, you’ll be able to slice through the anatomy of an opponent, rendering them useless. For mending purposes she can slice a packed creature into smaller parts by cutting between the invisible connections that help it merge.

Now that was useful. Dallion’s first thought was whether he could learn arts as well. His second was that Eury had that set of skills as well. Combined with her perception and other skills that made her far stronger than she had let on. No wonder she had managed to scare off a whole tavern or mirror pool members. The question was, how strong was she really? Considering that high-ranking officers of the city guard went to her for advice, her skills had to be significant.

COMBAT INITIATED

The red rectangle appeared, letting everyone know that Dallion was right. Part of the swamp surged forward, giving birth to a snakelike creature that rose ten meters into the air. It was the second tallest crackling Dallion had seen so far, and definitely the most disgusting. Rows of teeth extended along its body all the way from the creature’s top to the area still submerged beneath the surface.

“Sluggy,” Spike said with the cheerful intonation of someone who had returned home to his pet dog. “This really is a treat.”

“It’s a leech.” Alara turned to Dallion. “The crackling is a leech. Normally they are harmless, but when they get this big they get complicated.”

“Shouldn’t we help her?” Dallion asked.

“She’s fine,” Spike said dismissively. “It’s a small one. We’re here if something else shows up during the fight or after it.”

On her part, June didn’t wait. Gripping both daggers, she dashed up along the body of the cracking via a series of leaps. It was obvious that she was combining athletics and acrobatics, and that was just the beginning. Several jumps in, the knives cut into the creature’s body, ripping it up like a knife through a sheet of paper. Cutting through teeth and flesh, June made her way to the very head of the crackling, avoiding all of its “mouths” and emerging tendrils.

Eyes popped open all over the creature’s body in an attempt to better target the woman, but to no avail. Reaching the top, June did a somersault, then—falling down the other side—stuck the daggers in the crackling again, using them to rip what was left of it in two.

In his mind, Dallion could almost hear the ripping sound.

“Steady,” the lieutenant whispered. “If there's a counter it will be now.”

As June landed back in the bog, half of the serpent-like crackling slid off of it like the peel off a banana. The woman didn’t stop there, though, now slicing at the base of what was left with a series of arc attacks. The speed was so great that Dallion could barely follow.

What level if she? he thought, asking Nil.

June? Late twenties. It’s difficult to keep track. Most of our elites are overachieves, which makes the guild an interesting place.

Most of them? Dallion swallowed. And he thought he was making good progress. At this moment in time, it seemed like he would never catch up. Reaching level twenty alone would require exploring his realm six more times—which, unlike before, was not a task he thought he could easily achieve. Passing trials in an awakening shrine seemed so simplistic in comparison; it was more than a shortcut, more than a cheat, it was a free ticket to strength. Of course, it also came at a price. All the suppressed fears, flaws, and doubts remained in the person, still waiting to be addressed.

If Dallion had faced the echo of his grandfather at level twenty-one, it was almost certain he would have never won. In fact, he doubted he could win against his own echo at that level.

And the other guilds are the same? Dallion asked.

Yes and no. They have strong members, of course, but it’s more a numbers game there. The strong apply to strong guilds. People of good standing, such of noble families, and so on. We’re different. We pick everyone up, even those who’ve come here to get away from it all, or—especially—those who had something to prove.

Icepickers… Dallion thought.

Precisely. And that’s why I keep telling you not to worry so much. Despite what everyone says, you’re been accepted as one of us. From here on, it’s all about learning how to maximize your potential.

The second half of the crackling splashed into the bog, bursting into a shoal of fishlike entities as it did. The “hard” part of the battle was over. From here on, it was only a matter of picking them one after the other. And this was precisely the moment at which the lieutenant’s prediction came true.

As the cracklings started fleeing, a whole area of the swamp rose up, transforming into a series of black mosquito-like insects. The effect was so sudden, that for a second the brick ground beneath the bog became visible, before quickly being filled in.

“That’s our cue.” Spike summoned his weapons.

Right, Dallion thought and started playing a melody of dizziness.