Tucker stalked through the heavy vegetation, hacking back and forth with a machete he’d bought in Salvation. It was useless in combat, but it had been enchanted with the ability to cut through vegetation with relative ease. In his travels, which had taken him all across the Radiant Isles, it had served him very well. But despite its ability to slice through the thickest vines without issue, each swing of the stubby blade was powered by every point of his strength. He even grunted with the effort.

“Are you alright?” came Zeke’s concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” Tucker lied. In truth, he was more frustrated than he’d been in a long, long time. Not only did his companions not trust him, but they had also deemed him incapable of defending himself. After all, not long ago, he had been abducted by a frost giant, and the subsequent rescue attempt had nearly gotten them all killed. So, now, his evening forays into the temperate rainforest required an escort, lest he become even more of a burden on his new partners.

It was galling, especially for a man who had always prided himself on self-sufficiency. He had ranged all across the island and even into the surrounding seas, usually with only himself for company or protection. He had survived and thrived for decades, and he would continued to do so for decades more – with or without the protection of his more martially minded companions.

Besides, it wasn’t as if they would have fared any better against the frost giantess. The Jotuns were forces of nature, stronger and more durable than any single adventurer. There was no shame in being taken by one, even if she had been a runt.

But that wasn’t necessarily true, though. Zeke, for one, had proven himself a match for Brynjar. And while the Jotun warlord wasn’t the strongest among the frost giants, he was still a powerful adversary. Zeke had defeated him, and not only once. The young warrior had felled the giant twice. Talia had proven herself almost as capable as well. With her strange death-attuned skills and undead physiology, she’d ripped through multiple Jotuns with relative ease. The dire bear didn’t bear mentioning – he was a fearsome, if juvenile, beast. It was expected that he’d be able to hold his own. The only one who wasn’t abnormally powerful was the archer, and she seemed dead set on changing that.

The girl had left that very morning, heading in the direction of an unnamed mountain to the west. It was only a day or two away, but all signs pointed to the area being infested by gnolls. Apparently, she was hunting a thunderbird – the undisputed master of the skies. While she went on her quest, which had to be completed alone, that had left the rest of the group with nothing to do.

“How much further?” asked Zeke.

“I don’t know,” Tucker said, looking back at the young man. Even in the humidity, he wore his armor, carried his shield, and clutched his crude-looking mace. “It’s been almost fifteen years since I was in this part of the world. A lot has changed.”

“Let’s look for a place to rest, then,” Zeke said. As he spoke, the bear caught up, breaking through the vegetation with enviable ease. Behind Pudge came Talia, silent and looking as if she hadn’t just been trudging through some of the worst terrain in the world. “It’ll get dark soon, and I don’t want to be caught out after the sun goes down.”

Tucker agreed, and they continued along their path until they finally reached a clearing near a sizable mountain lake. Zeke summoned his house – the thing had noticeably grown in the past couple of weeks, adding a fourth story as well as a couple of balconies. In addition, the shape had become more rounded, hinting that it wanted to be a tower. Tucker hadn’t said anything about it, but he hadn’t concealed his interested either – especially concerning the attached storage space.

Tucker’s [Alchemist’s Constitution] gave him access to his own storage space, but it was limited to his potions and grenades. As far as Tucker could tell, there were no limits on Zeke’s ability. On top of that, the house – or tower, Tucker supposed – itself seemed to emit some kind of aura which drove wildlife away. In all, it was an extraordinary ability that defied everything Tucker thought he knew about such things. And Zeke took it for granted, much like his inflated stats or his cheat-like ability to heal himself via that leeching skill of his. Or the skill that let him bestow a weaker version of that same skill onto others.

After the house had settled into place, everyone went about their daily chores. Zeke dug a fire pit, Talia gathered likely fuel, and Tucker took his turn in the house’s shower. In the middle of the wilderness, it was a ridiculous luxury, having access to something as convenient as a bathroom – especially considering that the house’s most recent transformation had given them the last piece of the convenience puzzle – hot water. Tucker had no notion of how any of it worked, but according to Zeke, the entire place was lousy with runecraft.

And that was another thing about his companion. He understood runes better than anyone Tucker had ever met – and considering that he traveled in those kinds of circles with master crafters around every corner, that was saying something. Others could do things that Zeke couldn’t. They had more knowledge, earned via decades of study. However, they couldn’t have taken one look at Micayne’s handiwork and declared it “backwards.” Nor could they have, in the heat of battle, overloaded the tower’s lock. Runecraft was a tedious, time-consuming process that couldn’t be done quickly. Not by anybody but Zeke, apparently.

That wasn’t even considering the hints that he had altered a skill rune which had resulted in his curious bond with the dire bear. At first, Tucker hadn’t believed it, instead chalking it up to the braggadocious nature of young men everywhere, but the more he saw, the more convinced he had become. And that was terrifying. Unraveling curses and overloading runic locks was one thing; altering skills was something else altogether.

It was one of the reasons Tucker had chosen to attach himself to the group. They were going places, and he thought they could help him along on his quest for more alchemical knowledge. At the very least, he would have the opportunity to gather newer and rarer components for his experiments.

But if he was honest with himself – and he always tried to do so – the majority of his reasons sprang from gratitude. They could have easily left him, abandoned him to the Jotuns’ ministrations. He had expected it. Instead, they’d risked their lives to save him. That wasn’t something he could easily discount or forget.

Tucker finished in the shower, got dressed in clean clothes, then went downstairs to find that Zeke had laid out the ingredients for their nightly meal. Tucker couldn’t identify the meat; it came from some exotic monster, no doubt. But it tasted a lot like chicken, which was all Tucker really cared about. In addition, Zeke had retrieved a smattering of vegetables from his storage, which would make the meal that much more complete. No travel rations for them. No – even so far from civilization, they could have proper meals. And Tucker had agreed to prepare them.

He seasoned the “chicken,” thinking that it wasn’t so different from alchemy. It was all about measurements and proper ingredients. But there was also an element of instinct to it. Of feel. Without it, his concoctions – or the meal, as it were – would be soulless and less effective. It was one of the reasons he liked cooking and had volunteered for the task. After all the ingredients were prepared, Tucker speared everything with skewers, then took the results to the fire Zeke had gotten going in the interim.

The moment he stepped out of the tower, the familiar sound of Zeke sparring with Talia assaulted his ears. The pair of them were insatiable, taking every spare opportunity to improve their martial prowess. It was commendable, considering just how dangerous the tasks before them were. For most people, gradually gaining power was an option. It was how Tucker had done it, and the strategy had served him well. However, for Zeke, Talia, and Abby, doing that just wasn’t in the cards. They needed to get stronger, and fast, or they’d die in their quest. Even Tucker, who had a few levels on them, didn’t really like his chances. But if they managed success…

Well, the potential reward was enough to push him forward.

Over the next twenty minutes, Tucker roasted the skewered “chicken” and vegetables over the open fire, idly considering the path he’d chosen. The quest itself was dangerous, and it would see them confronting a series of truly terrifying opponents. However, if they somehow managed victory, they would boldly stride into previously unknown territory. Who knew what evolving to the F-Tier of their races would entail? There weren’t even any rumors to go on.

After an hour, Talia and Zeke finished their first sparring session and joined him by the fire. In seconds, they were ripping into their respective meals with a gusto any cook would enjoy seeing. Finally, when their appetites were sated, Tucker asked the question he’d wanted to ask since they’d left Abby to fend for herself that morning.

“Do you really think we did the right thing, leaving her all alone?” he asked. “She’s only level seventeen.”

Zeke winced a little, answering, “No. I don’t. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. She said she had to do it alone. If we helped, she wouldn’t get the Framework quest, and whatever it is she’s doing up there would be pointless.”

“She took your potions with her,” Talia pointed out, sounding almost human. “She will be fine.”

Tucker shook his head. It wasn’t as if he really cared about the girl. No – he didn’t. Abby had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t like him very much, and the feeling was mostly mutual. Or it would’ve been if she hadn’t risked her life to save him. Regardless of whether or not she’d done so of her own volition – Tucker suspected that the group had pushed her into it – was irrelevant. She’d shown up, and that was what mattered.

Which made his dislike all the more problematic for him.

“What happens when she runs out, though?” Tucker asked. “There are gnolls around that mountain. Do you have any idea how vicious those monsters can be? I think we should –”

“Do you think I like this?” growled Zeke, uncharacteristically angry. The young man didn’t lose his temper often, as far as Tucker could tell. “I don’t. I hate it. I can see a thousand ways it can go wrong. But Abby needs to do this.”

“Why?” Tucker asked.

“Because she needs to feel strong enough to matter,” Talia supplied. “You’ve seen it. You know that she’s weaker than the rest of us. She does, too, and she wants to change that. I’ve spent most of my life like that, and I would’ve done just about anything to get stronger. I felt useless before. I’m sure she feels the same way.”

“But she’s not,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “I’ve told her a hundred times, but she just…”

“It doesn’t have to be rational, Zeke,” Talia stated. “Abby is proud. She’s capable. There’s no way we could’ve gotten into Hvitgard to rescue Tucker without her. But all she sees is that her arrows weren’t much use against the giants.”

Tucker snorted. “Most attacks are like that,” he said. “Giants are –”

“Insanely durable,” Talia interjected. “I know. Remember, I grew up in the Temple of the Sun. I spent whole weeks at the Menagerie. That a level seventeen could even do anything against a Jotun is an accomplishment.” Her eyes flicked to Zeke, and she added, “Present company excluded.”

Indeed, Zeke was so abnormal that he didn’t bear mentioning in the same breath as other people his level. The same could be said for Talia, now, though the undead girl was only just beginning to realize her own potential. If the pair were allowed to reach the pinnacle, few would be able to stand up to them. Not for the first time, Tucker wondered if he was seeing the birth of a pair of legends.

“So, we’re just supposed to ignore the danger she’s in?” Tucker asked.

“We have to trust her,” Zeke said quietly.

Tucker had no idea what their relationship was really like, but he knew just how difficult of a time Zeke was having with the whole set of circumstances. He didn’t know Zeke that well, but he knew enough to recognize that the young man deeply cared about the safety of his friends. That included Tucker, now, but he had no doubts about which member of their group ranked the highest. So, trusting Abby to take care of herself was probably an incredibly difficult thing for the warrior.

“Fine,” Tucker said. “We’ve been over it already, and it doesn’t seem like things have changed. I think it’s a bad idea, but I recognize that she needs to do it anyway. Let’s talk about what we should expect going forward.”

“Myconids,” Talia said.

Tucker felt a shiver climb up his back. “Right,” he said. “They’re a subterranean race of nature spirits. Most of them are comprised of an amalgamation of local fungi, but some have incorporated the hardier plants native to the area.”

“Are they mushroom people?” Zeke asked, tearing a chunk of “chicken” from one of the skewers and popping it into his mouth. “And I want to go on record as saying that I hate the fact that you want to send us down into a cave. I hate caves.”

Ignoring the second comment, Tucker answered, “They’re not really mushroom people. Think more like mushroom monsters. They’re sometimes in the shape of bipedal creatures, but they’re just as likely to take the shape of other monsters. It all depends on what kind of body they’ve coopted.”

“Wait, what?” Zeke asked.

“Oh – didn’t I mention it?” Tucker asked. “That’s how they work. They infect a host body, take over the brain, and drive the corpse. Think of them like fungus zombies. Only smarter. And they’re a hive mind. They’re strong, too.”

“Fantastic,” muttered Zeke.

“Don’t worry – you’ll have a potion that makes you immune to their spores,” Tucker said. He’d spent the past few days brewing a sizable stock of the stuff, which would last them for weeks if necessary. Hopefully, they’d be in and out before they had to worry about running out.

“And what is it that you need from these things again?” Talia asked.

“There’s a heart at the center of the colony,” Tucker stated. “Or at least there should be. Nobody’s ever found it, but experts have theorized –”

“What’s it for?” Zeke asked, interrupting. They’d had the conversation before, and he’d clearly lost patience for explanations.

“Potions,” Tucker said. “If I can get a few more ingredients, I can create a series of potions that can permanently enhance everyone’s stats. I think. But that’s not the main purpose.”

“So? What is the main purpose?”

“You want to fight a wurm,” Tucker said. “Doing so is suicide.”

“And? I’ve done a lot of things people would label as suicide,” he stated. “How is this any different?”

Tucker sighed. “Fine. I’ve told you before how different a wurm is, but my point is that this heart will allow me to create a poison that will significantly weaken even a wurm,” Tucker stated. “Then, when the time comes, we’ll have a chance.”

“How difficult do we think this is going to be? On a scale of frost giants to goblins,” Talia said.

“Somewhere in between,” Tucker stated, shrugging. “It would be far higher if you didn’t have the potions to protect against the spores.”

Zeke ran his hand through his hair. “Suppose it’s as good of a distraction as any,” he said. “Come on, Talia. I want to spar some more.”

“Very well,” Talia said, rising.

The pair went off to the side of the tower, where they almost immediately started fighting against one another. That left Tucker to his own devices; as always, he retreated into his new laboratory and started brewing potions. His stores were much lower than they had been at Micayne’s estate, but he’d picked up a lot of ingredients over the past few days. None were particularly rare, but they were good enough to replace some of his more common grenades. Specifically, he could brew [Fungicide Grenades], which would be particularly effective against the myconids.

He set to work, not even noticing when Talia and Zeke finished sparring and retreated to their separate rooms.