When Eric woke up the next morning it was to find his heart filled with giddy thoughts he knew he had absolutely no business for a girl he had known for less than three days and had met at javelin-point.

But gazing down at the strikingly beautiful girl now sleeping so peacefully with her baby in her arms, he couldn’t help but think them.

Before closing his eyes and silently promising himself that he would do everything he could to rise in power so far, so fast, that no enemy he had made so far would dare touch him, even the CSA which, as far as he was concerned, should have lost interest with him and his crew the minute their deadliest head hunters were lost in the tunnels, and there was absolutely no reason for anyone to think it had anything to do with him.

Before freezing with a hiss, eyes going wide as a certain simpering countenance flashed before his mind’s eye.

Stibbs

It had to be. There was no other explanation he could think of.

That bastard alone was the one who had enticed those head hunters or ‘recruiters’ with Morlekai and his companion’s existence, all in a gleefully treacherous attempt to get rid of them. He alone knew of the trio of recruiters sent to bring them in. And he was probably one of the very, very few who could sense that the black book Federal Reserve Bank, the repository of an impossible fortune in gold that that bastard had had every intention of profiting off of himself, had just been hit.

Not just hit, Eric thought with a dark, gleeful smile of his own, but completely cleared out.

He couldn’t help but chuckle darkly, imagining that beady-eyed little monster’s frustrated screeches, when all his carefully orchestrated schemes and machinations crumbled to dust. Then, instead of favors and glory, all he had were angry CSA associates demanding answers, assuming he was stupid enough to allow any into what should be some of the best hidden territory in the state.

Eric’s dark chuckle turned to a tired shake of his head.

Because if his hunch was correct, and the assassin he had fought hadn’t just been trying to throw him for a loop.. then that meant that Sue had never claimed the throne that would have given her automatic control of all the cannons, golems, and birthrights to the throne of that tiny, precious kingdom.

Maybe she had been afraid. Maybe the boys had been too intimidated to do anything but live their lives as discretely as possible.

Or maybe that bastard had successfully arranged for her death.

It was a thought that filled Eric with instant towering fury… before turning to gut-wrenching dread when he looked down at Rica, sleeping so peacefully with her child in a beautiful inn that wouldn’t do shit against any adventurer even half as strong as they were, forced to accept that she wasn’t safe at all.

That being with him could get her killed.

“Fuck,” he whispered, clenching his fists, and squeezing back bitter tears that stung what should have been nearly indestructible eyes.

“Eric? What’s wrong?” He winced, choking back a gasp, confronting the anxious eyes of a girl instantly awake, and far too beautiful, and deadly, for him to ever take for granted. Or underestimate.

“I think maybe…” He sighed and shook his head. “You ever over-extend yourself, trying to do the right thing, and end screwing yourself over so bad it haunts you still?”

She smirked, kissing her daughter’s head. “God knows I over-extended myself before. But I forgave my own very human mistakes long ago, and my daughter is a prize I will always cherish. I’ve always felt like I came out ahead by having her, her father be damned. So no, lover, I don’t quite get what you mean.”

Soft, powerful fingers gently clasped his own. “But I know the taste of bitter tears, and regret. And I know how much better it felt, when I could share my burdens with the people I loved.” She kissed his cheek. “So share the burdens of your heart. I want to help. And two is always stronger than one.”

Swallowing, Eric flashed a grateful smile and did just that, revealing far more of himself, and his history, than he ever had anyone before, relieved to see that she didn’t hold Sue or anything else against him, even commending him on his kills.

“Those collaring bastards are a blight to everyone, Eric. And you somehow managed to take out some of the CSA’s most elite rooks from the board? Good. Damn good.” She sighed, shaking her head and flashing him a rueful grin. “And that Mayor Stibbs asshole sounds like a real piece of work. And I think you’re right. If anyone would know the nature of your heist, if anyone would put that interface message that blared through the entire fucking territory, it would be him. He would have explained to whatever cronies he works with what it means, and I hate to say it, lover, but you might soon have an entire faction of slave-collaring humans after your gold.”

She shook her head in bemused wonder. “But you and your friends discovered a whole-bank’s worth. Tons of loot! No matter how strong you are, or how big your extra storage space is, you guys couldn’t have done more than make a dent in a Federal Reserve vault’s worth of gold. Those CSA assholes shouldn’t even miss it! Let alone be allowed any access into Elven territory, because that’s what Gilton now is, to steal it for themselves...”

She furrowed her brow. “Unless they’re willing to risk all out war… And just how much gold did you manage to lift?”

Eric held her gaze for long moments.

Her eyes widened. “No. Fucking. Way.”

He nodded. “Yup. And though I certainly saw no signs of any CSA activity on the surface… there was this one assassin who tried to set me up, using orcs for cover inside the city, in addition to that orc mercenary band we took out at the outskirts of the forest.”

“Wait, orc mercenary band? That wasn’t just a group of stragglers from the city?”

Eric solemnly shook his head. “They fought better, for one thing. And they all clearly had classes. Fighting them was much more of a challenge, and I almost got put in my place for half a second, until you came to my rescue.”

His heart warmed at her dimpled grin. “Damn right I did.”

He nodded. “And you’ll note that there wasn’t one musketeer among them.”

She whistled thoughtfully. “Shit, you’re right! It’s only the Classers that disdain gunpowder, because it prevents them from getting anything out of their kills.” Her bemused smile turned to a worried frown. “But if they were a mercenary band...”

Eric clenched his jaw and nodded, forcing himself to look her way. “Between old enemies and a System that damns the unconnected just as thoroughly as it rewards all of us savage killers, I can totally understand why...” He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and looked away. “Why you might want to...”

“Eric?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” she whispered with a kiss, soft brown eyes all but glaring into his own. “You put your ass on the line saving my daughter. Saving me. When you could have just...” She shook her head, suddenly too choked up to speak.

Eric swallowed the lump in his own throat, holding her tight while she held him close.

“Do you really think I’m going to just walk away, just because there are complications?”

Eric kissed her glossy dark hair, breathing deep of a scent that was spicy, musky, and distinctly her own. “I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. You… or anyone else you love.”

“Like I wasn’t fighting for my life every day before you met me,” she said with a soft chuckle, before tilting up to gaze into his eyes with a bright smile. “But… point taken, lover. Let’s go check out this so called Blue Quarter’s top-of-the-line suites. If it gives us a good vibe? We stay and find a bank we can deposit your fucking fortune into. If not? We get the hell out of Freetown, and go wherever the wind takes us.”

Eric felt a flush coming upon his cheeks. He couldn’t help but flash a teasing smile. “So, you’re willing to give it all up and run away with me?”

She chuckled throatily. “With eight million credits of my own secured nice and tight, and my boyfriend carrying a whole fucking bank? You’re damn right I am.” Her kiss was sweet and passionate, and was everything he ever wanted at that moment. “Come on, hero,” she said with her bedroom eyes, after making sure her little one was sleeping snug and sound. “I do believe there’s a piping hot bath waiting for the suite guests in our own private steam room. Let’s you and I grab it, before Nelly and Morgan.”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Is she really...” Rica’s fingers gently brushed his lips. “None of your business, or mine. But if they can find happiness… there are worse forms of redemption than remaking yourself into the man, or woman, your chosen can love.”

Eric swallowed and nodded, in complete agreement. And with the softest of knocks on her grandmother’s door, she grabbed his hand as they darted through the suite, enjoying the best bath of his life, even if the water was cold by the time they were dressed in their Sunday best, ready to go face the world.

Though she did give him an arch look. “Your Sunday best is your armor?”

Eric grinned at the girl dressed rather smartly in an interview suit that looked both professional and classy, showing off her tapered waist, powerful shoulders, and sensual curves to stunning effect.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have a chance to leave with more than basic survival gear and a backpack full of gold.”

She frowned at that. “But what about...”

He quickly held up his hand, giving a hard shake of his head. There was only so much he wanted to convey about the odd nature of a potential, a possibility, a quest reward in an odd state of flux somehow in perfect sine wave rhythm with a Perk that itself only spawned when he dared claim his fortune.

And he sure as hell didn’t dare withdrawal any of that until he had a secure place to plop down god knew how many tons of...what he refused to think about too deeply. Because sure as shit, it wasn’t ever going to fit in there again, no matter how much he leveled up his ES Space. Because there was so-called unlimited storage space… and outright laughing in the face of even magical physics absurd.

She paled at something she saw in his apologetic grimace. “That bad, huh?”

Eric smirked. “When you shake up a can of soda hard enough...”

She winced. “Don’t go exploding on me. Okay, lover? Let’s go find ourselves a bank we can trust.”

Eric nodded. “And a place to stay just as tough as the bank I robbed.” he winced at her arch expression. “I probably should have said tougher, huh?”

She smirked. “You think?”

He laughed. “Okay. A place to stay that doesn’t have any 30 plus story buildings adjoining it from which someone could drop, say 12 tons worth of cast-iron longbore cannons.”

Rica looked at him for long moments. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “I even got a Lesser Title Basher, to celebrate the brute force feat, along with the Master Criminal title, which yes, is absurd. But fuck if I’m going to do anything but nod at the System titles and happily enjoy every one of the stat boosts they give me.”

She gave him an arch look. “Just how many points did those two titles give you, lover?”

He coughed, feeling his cheeks blaze, for some odd reason. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

She gave a rueful shake of her head. “Never mind. And here I am, feeling pretty badass with my Primal Hunter class, while you’re pulling cannons out your ass. Literal cannons.” She glared at his grin. “And no, don’t even say it, white boy. Or is that… elf boy?

He winced. “Ouch.”

Graceful fingers caressed his lobes. He shivered and smiled. “If you do that much longer, we won’t be going anywhere this morning.”

She smirked. “Pretty round, for an elf.”

“I know, right? That’s what I tell myself every time I look at my Arcane Potential stat.”

Rica turned around, catching her grandmother’s sleepy smile, before she waved them off and retreated to the master suite where Ria was presently fast asleep.

“Alright, my angel is in good hands. Shall we?”

Eric nodded, though he didn’t hesitate to keep his saber at his hip and the one bardiche that survived the journey in his hands, paying no attention his gear gave him as they made their way down to the ground floor and the smiling innkeep. “I do hope you all had a pleasant night’s sleep. And that the meal, and copper baths, met with your approval?”

Rica nodded enthusiastically. “It’s all been wonderful. Thank you so much, innkeeper,” she said with a warm smile, earning a chuckle.

“Well I’m glad.” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “I’d tell you to call me Johnny, but since everyone calls me Innkeeper, and that’s my Professional class… his eyes all but twinkled as he gazed at Eric’s weapon. “Bardiche, right? I used to practice with that very weapon in HEMA, even when everyone else was into longswords.”

Eric grinned. “I knew you were a man of excellent taste when I met you,” he said to the portly man who, now that Eric took a second look, did have some definite shoulder muscle underneath his padding. “Any tips on it’s use?”

The innkeeper looked surprise, then positively beamed. “As a matter of fact… come in the back yard. Maybe I can show you a thing or two.”

Eric and Rica exchanged bemused smiles, but Eric was more than happy to watch the man hold with pride a bardiche very much like the ones John Smith fabricated with such exquisite skill, and for all Eric knew, had indeed been made by him, any number of the sought-after polearms no doubt having found their way to silver-laden pockets before Eric’s realm enhancements sealed Junk Town away from hostile outside forces for good.

The innkeeper, now gazing at them from across a modest grass yard that had obviously used as a practice area of sorts, went through a series of forms very much like the ones Drake and Louie favored, tight underhanded moulinets followed by arcing sweeps and vicious overhand circular swings. The man was panting by the end, but had kept his weapon flowing from form to form without pause, mimicking the advantages and necessity of continuous movement with a weapon that was similar to the greatsword, at least in terms of constant flowing movement versus the feints and teasing, jerking motions of quicker, lighter weapons. Because what worked for the rapier sure as hell didn’t for the bardiche. And that was fine, Eric thought, more convinced than ever that this Innkeeper was far more than a professional Innkeeper.

But when the man gave a soft chuckle and said, “Well, there you go,” Eric didn’t hesitate to bow his head in respect and show the man his own forms, doing it slowly, methodically, as the point was to learn what the man had to teach and maybe teach something in turn, not overwhelm him with his massive stat pool. Because if he swung a bardiche that was now light enough to whip about like a fencing blade so fast that the older man couldn’t even follow, Eric would be trading a rare opportunity to learn something new for the cheap thrill of showing off.

“Not bad, kid,” the man said with a slow nod. “There’s one point, however, when your switching underhanded for overhanded moulinets where you’re leaving yourself wide open.”

He smirked at Eric’s look of surprised consternation. “Now I’m not stupid. I can tell you’re holding back something fierce, doing me the courtesy of letting me see your form for what it is, flaws and all, and I appreciate that. And maybe you can dart away in the blink of an eye. But then you’re compensating for flaws in your technique. And that’s not perfecting your technique.”

Eric bowed his head. “I’d be grateful any pointers you’d care to share.”

The man flashed a pleased smile. “Alright, when you’re shifting grips to go from high to low you want to drop your shoulders and pivot your hips just before you switch techniques, like I’m doing right now. Stand right beside me, and try to mirror my movements.”

Eric nodded, game to try it, surprised to find that it actually took a bit to get a handle on the technique, and he could feel the loss of power with the first alternate swing.

The innkeeper turned around, eyeing him intently. “Alright, do it one more time from the top. This time, a bit slower.”

Eric grimaced but readily complied.

“You’re dropping your shoulders just a bit too much. Here. Position your arms like this… how does that feel?”

Eric had to carefully modulate his strength so the man could shift his arms without feeling like he was budging immovable stone, though he earned a few raised eyebrows despite his best efforts.

“Damn, you are holding back. Alright, try it again. Nice and slow, then speed up.”

Eric nodded gamely enough, slowly speeding up his form, feeling his look of bemused consternation turn to genuine surprise when he felt his bardiche flowing in his hands smoother than ever before. His eyes widened when he finally understood what he had been doing wrong all this time, the weapon now flowing with a speed and grace that was undeniable, and the tiny vulnerable window he had always sensed when he switched techniques and had just accepted as something he had to compensate for the moments before he struck… was suddenly gone.

Now, his weapon flowed as easily through the motions as a dream, Eric slowly speeding up his technique, making sure the shift in stance and positioning felt right even when weaving his weapon through the air at full combat speed.

He paused either a few minutes or a few hours later, giving a very pleased nod at the notification in his mind’s eye.

Congratulations! Hidden flaws have been revealed under the eyes of a fellow Journeyman!

Bardiche is now Rank 19!

Eric flashed the man a grateful smile. “Thank you! I was wondering why my growth had tapered off so much. But with that lesson… Wow. All I can say is thanks. And I definitely owe you one.”

But the man was just staring at Eric, open mouthed, as was Rica.

“Jeez, kid. What level are you?”

Eric winked. “A gentleman never tells.”

The innkeeper snorted while Rica laughed.

“Shit, lover. It’s one thing to hear you talk about your stats… but to see you at full speed?” She flashed a teasing smile. “You’re teaching me everything you know. This Primal Hunter isn’t going to limit herself to flint-tipped spears alone.”

Eric chuckled gamely. “You’re on, beautiful.” he tapped the saber at his hip. “But since you’re hands are already full with shield and spear, maybe saber would be the perfect close range backup weapon? The 1821 light cavalry blades are almost backswords, and work just as well with a shield, maybe better, than they do without.” He frowned thoughtfully. “But then again, double edged arming swords are a great choice if you’re fighting other shieldmen, so you can weave and twist your weapon around their defenses, tearing up their backs and necks with the false edge of your blade.”

The Innkeeper nodded. “Both are solid choices, and your spear, my lady, is an excellent all around weapon.”

Rica grinned. “I know. And one we’ve been using for a million plus years.” Her gazed hardened at the man’s bemused smile. “Literally.”

“It’s true,” Eric said. “She was an archaeology major.”

“Anthropology, but I dabbled in both,” she said with a smile, before bowing to the innkeeper looking so oddly at both of them. “Thank you for showing my Jack the flaws in his technique.” She peered thoughtfully at him. “Are you looking for an adventuring party?”

The man’s eyes widened, then he flushed. “You’re the first person to ask in months,” he said with a sigh. “But after I came so close to dying, along with my entire party, I swore to my wife I wouldn’t leave her a widow or our children beggars on the streets.” He sighed and shook his head. “And with the windfall I felt almost ashamed collecting with that first-clear, and the Profession the System granted me? Innkeeper was an obvious choice.”

He grinned self-consciously down at his own paunch. “Even if I know that my body would immediately snap into its ideal shape with a single level… I feel as strong as I ever did as a level 16 Warrior, and I made my wife a promise I intend to keep.” His eyes grew haunted. “Too many people are counting on me now. And my inn does well enough, even after employing the widows my friends left behind.”

Rica gave the innkeeper an impulsive, heartfelt hug. “You’re a good man,” she said. “I’m glad we spent the night under your roof.”

“So am I,” he grinned. “How long do you kids think you’ll be staying?”

She smirked. “I’m hardly a kid, with a kid of my own, but thank you. A girl likes to look young.” she gazed thoughtfully at the man. “Actually, we were originally intending on spending the night in the Blue Quarter, but your homey inn caught our eye. And with a beautiful view of the lake, I’m glad it did.”

The inkeeper nodded. “The Blue Quarter is definitely the nicest, most well developed part of the entire city, and completely out of the goblin’s jurisdiction.” He said the last softly, eyes instinctively glancing around, as if fearing eyes and ears listening in, which told Eric all he needed to know about the goblins.

The man then cleared his throat with a smile. “Not that they’re likely to trouble the average adventurer just making his way… especially with a quality guild at their back. But still… if you’re looking for the most elite accommodations in the city, Blue Quarter is your best bet.” He flashed a rueful smile. “But they aren’t cheap, kids. I’ll tell you that. You can easily spend a thousand credits a night, and that’s without renting an entire floor,” he said with a bemused grin, having rented out just that for what amounted to 400 credits.

“And if you’re looking to buy a condominium in the Blue Quarter...”

Eric’s eyebrows rose. “Wait… they have condos?”

The man nodded. “And sleek, futuristic-looking high-rise flats, complete with training rooms, luxury accommodations, high end eateries, even automated sparring facilities, because they know damn well who they’re catering to. Hell, the most exclusive gym and training center is located in the Blue Pavilion. They even have boutiques catering to high end customers with a selection of the best gear the edicts allow fledgling worlds, and best of all… not a damn goblin in sight. But if you think buying a condo is at all something you’re likely to be able to afford before hitting level 30, or higher… think again.”

Rica tilted her head curiously. “Just how expensive are these condos?”

The Innkeeper held her gaze for long moments. “A cool million credits. And the top floors? Even more. Don’t ask me how much more. My wife laughed so hard when I talked to her about investment opportunities there, that I knew I’d best cut my losses while I could.” He sighed. “Besides, the thought of taking out a loan from a goblin-owned bank? Worse than BoA, back before the world ended.”

Eric snorted. “That’s harsh. Bank of Assholes was definitely in a league all its own when it came to fucking people over. Or at least, that’s what my mom’s employees always said.”

The innkeeper nodded solemnly. “Considering that running afoul of Golden Goblin can get you sold off in the slave markets… best steer clear. Though as adventurers your prospects for clawing out of a usurious debt trap are a hell of a lot better than most.”

Eric winced. “If they’re that bad, how the hell does any business around here work, without stable lines of credit?”

The man winced, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “That’s a conversation best left alone until you’re ready to start your own business. Then we’ll talk,” the man said with a furtive smile, and Eric immediately understood. He wasn’t sure if it was his Negotiator Social Perception perk, or the savvy of countless heists and cons somehow tucked in the back of his subconscious, thanks to his Master Criminal perk. Either way, it was pretty obvious that the local businesses had devised their own strictly off the official books lending system, and Eric could only hope it wasn’t ruled by loan sharks half as bad as the goblins themselves.

All of which he deduced with a smile and a wink, nodding his understanding, and respect. John the Innkeeper was doing the best he could with the hand he had been dealt, and to Eric’s way of thinking, he was doing a damn fine job of it at that.

“And I’ll bet when all’s said and done, you’re making more money than you did as an adventurer, and you never have to worry about coming home to your family in one piece.”

This earned a quiet chuckle. “You got it on one, son.” He gazed pointedly at them both. “And seeing as how you two already have a beautiful little girl of your own, you might want an exit plan, one you make sure you stick to, once you reach a certain level, or get enough credits saved to start your own business, whatever that might be. Because no matter how strong you think you are...”

“There’s always someone stronger, and all it takes is one mistake in a delve to never come home at all,” Eric said with a nod, feeling no need to correct the man, already knowing that he’d come to love Ria as his own, if the feelings welling up within his heart for the beautiful woman by his side continued to blossom. But as for slowing down and retiring?

Hell no.

His rise to power had only just begun.