With the beast dead, and unperturbed by the wolf in their midst, the guards got back to their posts and Hati strolled into the camp. Once they were behind the barricade, Berla glided down his side and landed on her one leg.

“Are you okay?” came a voice from the right. Following it, she found Grym sitting on the ground next to Riala, who appeared deep asleep, resting her head on his leg.

“Yeah,” she said, and hopped over with Hati supporting her. “More importantly, how is Riala?”

“The little one is fine,” Grym said, glancing down at her. “You should’ve sent her out earlier though. I’m told she barely made it outside before she collapsed.”

“What makes you think that she would listen to a word I’m saying?”

Berla crouched down slightly and let herself fall the rest of the way, catching herself with her arms and taking a seat opposite of Grym and Riala. Hati wordlessly and heckling followed her example, plopping himself down, exhausted from hours of fighting inside the dungeon.

“Children need discipline,” Grym chided. “The stronger they are, the more they need it, or they won’t grow old.”

“You’re very welcome to try to get her under control, but there’s only one person she really listens to, and... he’s not here,” she said, a conflicted expression on her face.

Riala had been on the brink of crossing a line earlier that day, only retreating once she didn’t have any other choice. A minute more or a slight lapse in judgment and it could’ve meant her end. Berla knew going into this fight that it would almost certainly be dangerous, but she hadn’t expected Riala to go to her absolute limits. She also admired her, however. The determination and the strength she was showing were remarkable, and without her, there would undoubtedly have been many more casualties.

“Speaking of Tomar,” Berla said, “are there any news?”

Grym shook his head. “Unfortunately not. Last time someone checked, he was still unconscious.”

“I see... ”

“I hate to admit it, but having a few more of them would make this much easier. Or a few more of his kind,” he said as his gaze wandered over to the wolf next to Berla, who was slowly dozing off while being petted lightly by her.

“Aelene is doing her part, isn’t she?” she asked.

“That woman is not fit to be a combatant,” Grym said in disappointment. “She can hold off a few beasts if you micromanage her, but with the hordes and the chaos in there, and with the men not knowing how to utilize her strengths, that approach isn’t viable. I had her withdraw for the moment.”

One more thing he was best at I guess... Berla thought. “That’s too bad. And there’s still no end in sight.”

“Actually, squad B6 found a very long, straight path that seems to lead somewhere. They appear most active in that area, but this also makes it difficult to clear.”

“Hm... Is this anything like the stories you’ve heard?” Berla asked him with a frown.

Dungeons were a myth. Recounts of them appearing existed, but until this day, it all sounded like fiction. Most people didn’t even know about them, and the details were so vague that you needed to use your imagination to recognize them.

Their appearance was described as an archway, painted in an unnaturally deep black, with beasts appearing in endless droves around them. If they were contained long enough, the gate would supposedly disappear at some point, but if a town failed to do so, it would be overrun. The one on the other side of the barricade was much more eerie looking than any story could convery, however. It wasn’t just a black archway, it was constructed of an unknown material that was hard to the touch, but wavered, and on the inside was a wall made of a gleaming, gooey-looking substance that the beasts left the dungeon through.

The guards of Alarna reacted quickly and killed whatever came out of it, but nobody knew how long it would take until they stopped, and the captain soon realized that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Instead of hoping for the best, he decided to push back.

“No, I’ve never heard of people entering them. And the beasts were described differently as well. Them picking up and using our weapons against us is pretty annoying,” he grumbled.

“It really is. Without the additional reach it wouldn’t have gotten my crutches,” Berla grumbled in turn. “And just like that, I’m completely broken again.”

“Broken? Is that how you see yourself?” Grym broke out laughing, though he tried to contain himself, so as to not wake anyone.

Berla threw him an irritated look. “What’s so funny about that? I can hardly fight, even with them.”

“If you’re broken, half of my men are babes who’ve never held a weapon in their life. So what if you need those things to stand upright?”

“I thought you would understand this,” Berla said. “Yes, I can still fight, but I’m barely scraping by. You know what it’s like to control a fight, to be the one dictating the outcome. Ever since I lost my leg, I’ve been on the receiving end of that. I’ve been lucky so far, but... Eventually...”

Berla hung her head. How was it possible that nobody understood her plight? At least a Fighter should’ve been able to sympathize. In the past, a category three would’ve been child’s play for her. At four, fights would become more challenging, but it wasn’t until category five that you would actually be in mortal danger. She couldn’t fight like that anymore though. The moderators were practically category threes, with the added caveat that their hides were difficult to penetrate. That made them hard to kill, but she should’ve been able to lead them by their nose. As she told Grym more about her issue, his face distorted more and more, into a perplexed grimace.

“If these things here weren’t so weak I wouldn’t be able to help at all. I would be useless. I mean, what kind of Fighter am I supposed to—”

“Hoh boy,” Grym interrupted. “You have a warped view of the world, girly. You should get out more.”

“Huh?”

“How would you rate the beasts in the dungeon?” he asked.

Berla was confused by the sudden question, but curious about where he was going with this. “Hm... A two I guess. Four in a large group.”

“And the beasts you fought on the other side of town two weeks ago?”

“Probably cat four, due to their defensive strength.”

“Hmhm. You can add at least one to all of those.”

Add one? What does he... she thought, needing a moment to process his words.

If you were to raise the categories by one, the moderators would be fives at least, while the new beasts would be upped to threes. If that were an accurate rating, it would change the situation considerably. Being able to handle a category three wasn’t bad at all, and one above that was considered to be very good. If it were accurate.

“You’re joking,” Berla scoffed. “There’s no way these things could be cat three. And the wolves Hati belonged to weren’t much more powerful than normal cat threes either. They were just tougher. Well. And they were more coordinated.”

“Exactly. You need to take their intelligence into consideration. These things are ambushing us, they steal our weapons, they read our movements. They are much smarter than the mindless beasts we usually deal with. And these wolves were even more intelligent, attacking on command and in formation. I don’t know what you’ve been fighting before your accident, but I assume it’s mostly been smart beasts since then?”

“I... Yes, actually,” she said, followed by, “And humans...” under her breath.

Grym nodded. “You’ve been feeling weak because you fought strong opponents, and you did so at the side of a new class of fighter that is able to obliterate entire groups in a heartbeat. I don’t doubt that you lost some of your maneuverability, and it’s unfortunate that you need tools to move around effectively, but you are very far removed from being useless.”

Berla had several years of experience as an agent, but she hadn’t actually spent a lot of that time fighting weaker beasts. On the contrary. During the couple of jobs she did out of town, she had seen more four-plus beasts than anything else, because her assignments usually led her into areas where these types were more common than those below that rank. After the loss of her leg, she assumed that the enemies she was able to hold her own against must have been weak. They hadn’t been categorized, however, and she had a few things to learn yet.

“You really think so?” she asked, full of uncertainty.

“I do.”

“But... No. Seriously. On my own, I wouldn’t stand a chance against most Fighters in this town anymore.”

“Probably not. But we’re witty enough to use your disadvantage against you. Most beasts aren’t. You went through the basic training, didn’t you? You learned to study your opponent, but did you consider the degree to which beasts of varying ranks do this with you?”

She glanced sideways at the rather intelligent ex-beast she was petting, and contemplated how he had fought inside the dungeon. It was different from the normal category threes, and thinking back, there had been differences between the moderators as well. It seemed so obvious, now that Grym had pointed it out.

“If you’re right, and I misjudged my opponents... how strong am I exactly?”

“You’ll have to figure out that one on your own. I can’t do all the work for you,” he said with a sneer, implying that he had a rather positive estimate in mind. “One thing though, you should train to fight against humans. It makes a world of a difference against the more intelligent beasts.”

As if a weight had been lifted off her heart, it started beating faster. For the first time in months, Berla felt something resembling hope in regards to her job. Grym was rough around the edges, but he was honest and had a lot more experience than her. If this was his evaluation, she wouldn’t pass it off as words that were only meant to comfort her.

“Thank you... Captain.”

“Don’t thank me for stating the obvious. And all that being said... you’re naturally dismissed for now.”

“Yeah... Nothing we can do about that until I get myself new crutches.” A smile spread across Berla’s face despite this unfortunate circumstance. “But if I can’t go back in, I can at least check on the remaining Sourcerer. Maybe I can get you another fighter.”

“That would be much appreciated. Can you make it to the back of the camp? Bren is resting right now, he can help you get there.”

“Sure, I’ll be fine,” she said as she carefully put her foot below herself and stood up on it. “Can I leave them with you? They need to rest.”

“Them? Do I need to watch him too?” he asked, exasperated. Being used as a pillow was already inconvenient enough.

“Probably not, but if he looks like he’s having a nightmare, or he starts growling in his sleep, just scratch him behind his ear, that helps. Thank you!” Berla said and started hopping away gleefully.

“Huh? Wait! I’m supposed to... And how do I do that from a distance!? Hey, girly!” he hissed.

His complaints didn’t register anymore. Dismissed, and unable to do anything even if she wanted to, she couldn’t wait to check on Tomar and Miles.