No magic or scientific explanation existed for the innate abilities of the races. They weren’t magic, nor otherwise associated with the Moons, they weren’t something that had been developed after generations of research, they were something that just was.

Seeing the statue’s texture change slowly reverting to living tissue gave a deep sensation of mystique. During the process Dallion had gone through a huge discussion with Nil about the benefits certain races had, coming to the conclusion that humans were the weakest of all. On the surface, there was no denying it. All races, with the exception of humans, had control of nature in some fashion. Out of these, gorgons and copyettes seemed more overpowered than anything else. Dallion was by no means surprised that the gorgons were the first race to be attacked when the copyettes tried to take over the world. According to the old echo, this was a stroke of luck, since he believed that if gorgons had attempted to conquer the world, they’d have been far more successful.

PETRIFICATION EFFECT REDUCED BY 25%

PETRIFICATION NO LONGER IN EFFECT

The party members tensed. Even Dallion summoned his armadil shield, expecting a short but intense fight. March, however, just took a step forward and slammed the minotaur on the head with her gauntlet.

DIZZINESS

MUNITAUR will remain unconscious for twenty seconds.

Dallion blinked. It wasn’t that the fight was anticlimactic; he was by far impressed how March had managed to achieve what she did. Was this a special that came at higher attack levels? If so, it was definitely worth having. Using such skill would pretty much remove the need to kill enemies.

“Tie him up,” March ordered as she took the creature’s weapons.

The weapons didn’t prove to be anything special, so they were thrown to the ground. The pouch, though, turned out to be of considerable interest. It was Vend who opened the pouch, using five instances to do so. Initially, Dallion was amused by the fact, but soon enough he saw the wisdom in such a decision—there was no guarantee that the contents of the pouch wouldn’t be harmful, or at the very least disgusting.

“Sky silver,” Vend said, revealing a few chunks of the metal. “They look like natural nuggets.” He moved it closer to get a better look. “Maybe not so natural. They’re too pure to be ore, but definitely weren’t created by it. Probably remnants of a weapon or piece of armor. No idea what could have rendered it in such a state.”

“One thing to keep in mind.”

“They’re also currency,” Dallion added.

Suspicion and curiosity flared up in everyone around, including March herself. Only Agnii seemed to be chill about his statement.

“They’re using it as currency,” Dallion continued. “That’s why it’s in a pouch. And if it’s currency, that means some sort of trade is going on.”

“Trade in a world realm?” one of the party members smirked. “That will be interesting.”

Several people laughed. Being able to unsummon something you just sold would cause problems when it came to trade.

“Only for those outside the realm,” Agnii corrected. “For those born or banished here, it’ll be the same as when we handle things in the real world. The only difference is that they don’t have realms to enter in.”

“Does that mean there are survivors further in?” someone asked.

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” March said.

There were no further questions as the minotaur was tied up. Looking at its white rectangle, there was nothing special about the creature—it seemed to be like any standard blocking creature, with few skills and an obvious weak spot.

Lux, move to March, Dallion ordered.

The blue flames jumped off the minotaur, illuminating the immediate area. The creature narrowed its eyes, adjusting to the light. Fear emanated within it, filling its entire body.

“Speak,” March said with an icy softness.

There was no response. The minotaur snorted, checking out the strength of the rope he was tied up with. That didn’t discourage March. Instead, she said something else in a language entirely unintelligible to Dallion. This time, the creature reacted in a more appropriate fashion. Its ears turned forward while the rest of it froze still.

Like a lamb to the slaughter, Dallion thought. What sort of language is that? He asked Nil.

To be honest, I’m not certain, the echo replied. It doesn’t need to have a name to be understandable, though. As long as you have the adequate level of writing skills—

Writing skills? Dallion interrupted. For language?

Do you really want to get into an argument about skill naming practices, or would you rather I translate what they’re talking about?

Given the choice there was one possible answer, and as much as Dallion wanted to go with the former just to annoy the echo, he decided that learning more about this realm took priority.

The conversation could be described in a series of short phrases between captive and captor. For the most part, it was March talking with the minotaur giving short answers for the most part. Initially, the conversation started as one might expect: March asked whether it was alone, the size of its group, and whether they had set up camp nearby. The answers were short and not particularly helpful. For the most part, the creature remained terrified of Euryale—the first and only gorgon it had seen. When it learned that March was Euryale’s superior, its attitude changed completely.

If it could be believed, the creature was from a nomad group of about a hundred or so that had started the journey “tipwards” a few generations ago. Apparently, Agnii’s fears had been founded. The destruction of cracklings in the tip of the sword had been noticed to the point that a number of local creatures, animals and sapients alike, had headed in there to take advantage. The minotaur in question usually moved about between the third temple and “the great sea.”

When asked about the chunks of sky silver, the minotaur gave no good explanation. Initially, it claimed them to be for decoration. When pressed on the topic by March, it had changed its story, explaining they were meant for barter. All the while, though, Dallion wasn’t able to determine whether it was lying or not. It seemed that his music skills weren’t omnipotent—he had to be familiar with a language to determine whether the person was lying.

The interrogation continued focusing on the layout of the land up to the sea. A deal was struck—March had assured the minotaur that it would be set free, provided it helped her chart a map of the areas beyond. At first, the creature was reluctant, but given it had little choice, it accepted the terms.

Unfortunately for Dallion, he was not invited for the next part. March requested that he lend her Lux for a while, then moved away from the main camp, leaving him and the rest of the party behind.

Most of the party didn’t seem to mind, but that didn’t sit well with Dallion, and from what could sense using his music skill, it wasn’t particularly appreciated by Vend either.

“It’ll be fine,” Vend said, despite himself. “The info combined with Eury’s scouting will give us a pretty good idea what lies ahead. Until this sea, that is.”

“By the sound of it, there must be more than one,” Dallion could only say.

“Who knows? Distances are different in realms. If it weren’t for the creatures, we’d probably be able to travel from one part of the world to the other in less than a month.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Things will start to get interesting pretty soon. In the meantime, let’s continue where we left off.”

“Huh?”

“Your training.” Vend narrowed his eyes. “You’ll need a lot more if you’re to make it further ahead.”

Quite a surprising move that came at the worst possible time. Somehow, Dallion suspected that was the point.

“Sure,” he said. “What’s the focus on this time? More combat splitting?”

“Split breaking,” Vend replied. “Guardians can split more than you here, so you’ll need to have a way to counter that… to some degree. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Dallion didn’t want to argue that they were in a spot that was quite quiet—with March away, the rest of the party had gone to do their own thing, mostly resting. With a nod, he followed Vend a short distance away from camp. The further they got, the more Dallion suspected that the conversation they were going to have had nothing to do with training.

The light of several moons shone on the grass. Interestingly enough, the dominant color was that of the Green Moon. Finally, Vend reached a spot he deemed acceptable.

“Alright.” The elite stopped. “let’s go for it.“

If he’ll try something it’ll be now, Gen warned Dallion.

“What’s your split number?” Vend asked, looking Dallion straight in the eye.

“About five,” Dallion lied. In reality, he was comfortable with seven. “A bit more now and again.”

“At some point, you’ll need to get in the double digits. Until then, here’s a trick when facing more skilled enemies. Try attacking.”

“What’s the point? You can split five times more than me.”

“I’ll only split once.”

The suggestion intrigued Dallion. Taking a deep breath, he concentrated, then split into five instances of himself. Each of the attacks used a different combination of skills: an acrobatic jump followed by a dartbow shot, a direct dash and thrust, a spin and arc slash, a zig-zag attack approach, and a leap combined with a dagger throw. However, before the attacks managed to achieve a thing, Vend threw a small pebble at Dallion’s head. Dallion’s concentration collapsed instantly. All he could do was watch his instances fade away, never having been performed.

“What was that?” Dallion asked, unsure what had just happened. He was certain he had managed to split, at the same time he hadn’t. It was as if Vend had somehow gone back in time and undone all of Dallion’s combat splitting. “I’m sure I—"

“Want to try again?” Vend asked.

Dallion nodded. This time he knew what Vend was about to do, so he delayed the actions of his instances slightly. By the time the last instance started, the first was moments away from striking Vend in the chest with the armadil shield. Just then, all instances collapsed once more, and Dallion found himself a step away with a sharp pain on the forehead.

“Another go?” Vend asked, tossing a few pebbles in his hand.

Dallion rubbed his forehead. If this was the way Vend wanted it, he was going to think out of the box. Splitting in two instances, he intended to say both yes and no to see the difference. Before his mouth could open in any, another pebble had hit him in the forehead again.

“Damn it!” Dallion hissed. “How are you doing it?!”

“It feels like your instances are going back in time, right?” Vend asked. “As if I’m rewinding them somehow. I’m not. That’s just a trick of the mind.” He stepped closer. “The only thing I’m doing is interrupting you at the precise moment of the split.”

“You can do that?”

“It’s the same as splitting after a split. The only difference is timing. Since you’ve already started, there isn’t much you can do. The result is me breaking your split every time.”

“That’s…”

“It’s tricky to achieve, though. Your timing has to be spot on. And there’s never a guarantee, but once you succeed it makes all the difference. For one thing, it’ll level the playing field, for another it’ll confuse your opponent long enough for you to counterattack.”

“You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“I know. You’re the second person I’ve shown it to outside of battle. I know it won’t be easy, but you’ll need to master it. The sooner the better. And above all, keep it secret.”

“How did you learn it?”

“Luck.” Vend shrugged. “Chance. It just happened. From here on it all depends on you.” He turned around and started walking away.

“Wait.” Dallion caught up to him. “Won’t we be training more tonight?”

“You will. I need to be there when March has a map ready.”

“How am I supposed to train on my own?”

“You can make echoes now. Use them. Just don’t let anyone see you.”