Brin smiled. “Why? What’s in there?”.

“Nothing,” said Zilly.

Internally, his head was spinning. Something to do with [Witches] or possibly the undead was inside that silo. And Zilly knew about it.

He didn’t want to suspect his friends. No, he didn’t suspect his friends. He didn’t suspect Zilly, even if she’d been kind of annoying lately. Marksi was clearly agitated about being this close to the silo, but he didn’t seem alarmed by Zilly at all.

That didn’t mean much, though. Marksi didn’t mind [Witches], just some of their workings. Marksi-sense wasn’t foolproof.

Still, he couldn’t believe that Zilly was up to something really bad. More likely, she was an unwilling dupe in whatever this was. He just needed to find out what she’d gotten herself mixed up in.

“Nothing,” she said, repeating herself. “Really nothing. Go home.”

“No way. You’re just making me want to find out more,” said Brin. The silo had wide doors for carts or animals, and a smaller door off to the side. He tried the smaller door. Locked.

“Stop it!” Zilly hissed, looking around. “What if a Lantern-man sees you?”

Brin shrugged. “They carry lanterns. You can see them coming from a mile away. Keep watch, Marksi.”

Marksi leapt off Brin’s shoulder and crawled up Zilly to perch on top of her head.

“It’s locked, and the big doors won’t budge either. Just give it up,” said Zilly.

“Tell me what’s in there and I will,” said Brin.

“Tsk.”

There was an iron keyhole, vaguely phosphorescent in a way that suggested enchantment. He grabbed the door by the knob and tried to push it back and forth, side to side. It was tight; he didn’t get a hair’s breadth of budge in any direction.

“What are you doing?” asked Zilly.

“Trying to bump the lock,” said Brin, although he’d never in his life successfully bumped a lock before. He wasn’t actually sure he knew completely what that would look like.

“It’s never going to work. You need the key.”

“And who has the key?” asked Brin.

“Only the Prefit,” said Zilly, although he noticed how her hand unconsciously went to the pocket on her waistcoat.

Brin sighed. “You really can’t tell me what’s in there?”

Zilly relaxed, sensing that he was going to drop it. “I can’t. Prefit’s orders.”

“Fine.” Brin turned back to the silo, and started to climb. The silo was built with long vertical slats, all bound together by big wooden rings around the outside. The rings were only about an inch thick, but with his Dexterity from [Warbound] and his Class it wasn’t difficult at all. He climbed the three-story-tall building, straight to the top.

He sat on the top, swinging his legs over the side. Zilly whisper-screamed at him from below, but he ignored her and just sat there, waiting.

He heard her curse, and then started to make the climb herself. Marksi jumped off her head half-way through to skitter up the side and plop down on Brin’s lap.

Zilly arrived a few seconds later. “We really can’t be up here. Let’s climb one of the other silos. They’re taller anyway.”

“Tell me why, and I will,” said Brin.

Zilly growled in irritation.

Brin leaned forward, looking out at the scenery. It really was a nice view from up here. The sky was clear, the stars were bright in the sky, and his darksight made up for the rest. The silo was just barely taller than all but the largest of the trees in the forest, but it was more than taller than the homes of Hammon’s Bog. He could see clear across the whole town to the walls on the other side. It made the town seem so small, to see it all at once like that.

He sat, ignoring Zilly’s irritation, just looking out. Finally, he said, “What’s been going on with you, Zilly? We haven’t really talked since System Day.”

“I’m fine,” said Zilly. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t fine. I just said we haven’t talked in a while. What’s it like being a [Warrior]?” asked Brin.

“It’s awesome,” said Zilly, nose scrunched in irritation.

“Really? It sounds kind of boring, honestly.”

Zilly frowned. “It’s not boring.”

“All you do is train your swordsmanship, right? I train sword forms too, but I also get to do cool stuff with glass in the mornings. Are there any [Warrior] Skills you could use to do stuff other than fight? I can think of things you could use [Iron Body] for.”

“Is that what this is? You’re just trying to sniff out what Skills I have? Ask me after I beat you in the duel.”

[Inspect] didn’t have any new insights in Zilly’s Skill, but it did tell him that she was level 14. She’d gained another level, just in the past few days. Brin wished he knew what insane training program the Prefit had prescribed to come up with this kind of result.

Brin raised his hands in surrender. “Not trying to pry. Just trying to catch up with a friend. What’s this duel about, anyway? The Prefit came to talk to me about it, by the way.”

Zilly nodded, looking out at the horizon. “I asked him to.”

“What? He told me I should do more than win, that I should really rub your nose in it,” said Brin. “You told him to say that?”

“I told him to make sure you took it seriously,” said Zilly.

“Why?”

She didn’t answer right away. Brin stayed silent, waiting. People were uncomfortable with silence. If you wanted them to say something, you could usually get them talking just by being patient and quiet enough. Still, as a full minute dragged by and then another one, he started to think he might not get an answer this time.

“Do you think you’re going to win?” Zilly finally asked.

“Yes,” said Brin, without a moment’s hesitation.

“So does Prefit Elmon. There’s no doubt in his mind. When I first floated the idea of a duel, he told me you’d win. He stated it like it was a fact. I shouldn’t bother, because you would win. He was so certain, like it’s already happened,” said Zilly.

“It’s nothing against you. I’m sure you’ve been working hard. I just have advantages you don’t,” said Brin.

“That’s what I should be saying to you! I’m the Rare Class. You’re just a Commoner.”

“I’m not just anything. I got–”

“That’s not what I meant!” said Zilly. “I meant, like… I think you’re going to win, too. But why, though? Even if you have some Achievements, which I’m sure you do, why don’t I at least have a chance? You can tell me the reasons all day, but that’s not the same as actually experiencing it. If I’m going to lose, then I want to lose. I want to know. I don’t want to have to wonder any more.”

“Then why didn’t you challenge Davi?”

Zilly counted out on her fingers. “One, because he’d never go for it. Two, because I already know why I would never beat Davi. He’s too strong. The Prefit always says ‘One pound of muscle is worth ten pounds of skill’ and Davi’s skilled, too. Three, and this is the important one, because Davi would never go for it.”

“I have muscles, too,” said Brin.

“Not like Davi.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

Strangely, this conversation was making him feel even worse about the duel. Zilly wasn’t coming at this arrogantly like he’d first assumed. She wasn’t some cocky blowhard that needed to be taken down a peg. She knew she needed a reality check, and welcomed it if it would make her stronger. Beating her up wasn’t going to be fun. And whatever she thought, she wasn’t going to enjoy it either. Things would be different after this.

Maybe in his old world, he’d just tell her he didn’t want to do it, and that would be that. In his old world, it was fine to let your friends languish in mediocrity, because the difference between good and excellent wasn’t the difference between life and death. You’d never sacrifice your relationship for something like this, because obviously the relationship was more important than marginal gains in a career or hobby.

This world was not as kind. If Zilly ended up dead because Brin didn’t show her what survival required, he’d always regret it.

Brin scooted over a bit closer to Zilly. He leaned over… and snatched the key from her jacket pocket.

“Hey!” Zilly jumped on him, knocking him over and pinning his arms to the roof. There was a terrifying moment where the sharp angle of the silo roof almost caused both of them to roll off the end, but Zilly managed to stabilize herself.

“Take it, Marksi! Take it and run!”

Marksi grabbed the key in his mouth, and then ran down the side of the silo as if gravity didn’t exist for him.

“Stop!” Zilly stood and without hesitation, jumped off the side of the silo. Brin peered over the edge just in time to see her land in a perfect shoulder roll. She tried to hem Marksi in, but he quickly shot off to the side. She chased him.

Could Brin do that, too? He knew he was stronger and tougher than a human should be, but he’d never tested out his limits with things like this. No time like the present. He jumped off.

The ground hit harder than he expected. A shock went through his legs and knocked the air out of his lungs, and he immediately pitched onto his face, landing hard.

He stood shakily, but nothing was broken. He’d need to practice that. He needed to get used to the new rules he was playing by. He was strong, and he’d only get stronger.

Brin whistled. “Here, Marksi!”

Marksi shot from around the silo, key still in his mouth. Zilly was behind him, but Marksi was much faster and had bought a bit of time. He curled up Brin’s body, cheeping in good humor. Brin laughed as a slightly slimy key was deposited into his open palm.

Brin took the key, and jammed it in the door before Zilly could stop him. It didn’t turn, but the magic inside released the lock with a click.

“Please, don’t!” Zilly begged.

He opened the door.

The smile fell off his face.

His eyes struggled to take in all the madness he was seeing, but at the same time, his stomach sank. This definitely wasn’t an innocent little secret. This was [Witch] madness.

Red light poured through the open door from strange and exotic sigils scrawled on the floor. Brin knew enough of the Language to know that wasn’t it, this was something else, but no less magical. This was the Wyrd. He could feel its wrongness.

A table sat near the far wall, covered in bottles, diagrams, and strange iron tools. It was disturbingly tidy and organized.

The floor was otherwise barren except for dark, black splotches that Brin wished he didn’t immediately recognize as old dried blood. The smell was unforgettable.

Cages hung from ropes, some of them rocking back and forth. They were made of wood, and some of bone, and looked bizarrely flimsy to contain the monstrous shadowy shapes inside. Some were huge and hulking, some small and lithe, but none were human. He saw flashes of scales, patchy fur, bat wings, eyes that reflected the glowing red light from below.

Brin took a step back, reeling. Marksi hissed and darted away.

“N–No! It wasn’t like that. That’s not– that’s not what was in there,” said Zilly.

Brin felt his voice going cold. “What exactly isn’t supposed to be in there?”

“Those symbols. They aren’t visible in the daylight.”

“That’s your problem with this picture? It’s not the demented [Witch] monster laboratory?”

“[Farmers]... he said–”

“Who? Who did this?” Brin demanded.

Before Zilly could answer, a loud cracking sound came from higher in the silo, and splinters of wood rained down onto the ground. One of the cages had broken.

Zilly shoulder-checked him to the ground just as something huge wriggled through the door.

Sword out, Zilly gave it a flurry of furious slashes while backing away. Her sword rang against a wide crab shell she was hitting stone.

It struck back at Zilly with two crab pincers the size of ale kegs. The back half of its body, a giant snake tail, curled and then propelled it forward

She dodged nimbly and cut back where she could, but the monstrosity was fast enough to keep her from getting a good hit in.

She did better than she should’ve, though. Her sword seemed to have a supernatural bent to it. It pushed the air around it, and when she struck the monster's pincers, there was a noticeable weight that pushed them back.

Brin needed to help, but he didn’t have a weapon, just his glass knife. He looked around, and found a spear sticking out of the ground nearby. That hadn’t been there before.

He wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He picked it up, and felt a familiar pull from the spearhead. It was made of glass. Definitely not a coincidence then; someone had left it for him.

He charged forward. Nothing fancy, just the ordinary spearman’s thrust, focusing on using his entire body to put as much power into the strike as possible. He’d only get one shot at this while the monster’s full attention was on Zilly.

He stabbed and buried the spear deep.

The expected shriek of pain didn’t come; crabs didn’t yell. It silently turned its attention to Brin. He was already moving back, but still caught the whipping tail straight on the chest.

It slammed him back. He tumbled end over end until finally came to a stop. He rose shakily to his feet, trying to breathe, panicking when his injured chest wouldn’t take in air.

The monster darted towards him, but then dodged to the side at the last second to avoid a slash from Zilly. It snapped at her with its claws, revealing that she’d overextended. She barely managed to block two stabs, but the second knocked her off-balance.

Marksi leapt from behind her, landing on the crab-snake’s head, flashing his colors in a dizzying kaleidoscope. The monster hesitated long enough for Zilly to recover her balance, but then when it realized Marksi wasn’t actually hurting it, ignored him and charged Zilly again.

She rolled out of the way and delivered another furious series of strikes against the beast, hitting the joints of the monster's arm.

Brin’s spear was still inside the beast, and it was bleeding freely. He’d injured it. He might’ve already killed it, but it didn’t know that yet. There would be some time before it bled out.

He dashed forward, then stopped as the snake tail swiped through the area where he would’ve entered. “Get its attention, Marksi!”

Marksi bit the creature’s eye, a little black ball peering out from under the shell. The monster didn’t like that. It slapped its pincer at its face, missing Marksi but cracking its own shell.

Brin dashed forward, grabbed the spear, and pushed it in deeper, twisting it and trying to swirl it around and hit all the soft fleshy things inside.

The monster bucked him off and slapped his defensive arms with his tail in the air. He saw stars when he hit the ground and lost all his breath again, but when he climbed to his feet, the beast was already slowing.

Zilly charged in, moving around the crab-snake’s last awkward swings like they didn’t matter at all. She stabbed, and again her sword seemed to have a weight to it. The sword hissed as it entered into the crab’s injured eye socket. She buried it to the hilt, then pulled it out.

The crab tried one last slow and painful stab at her. She caught it, and pushed it away. The monster collapsed.

Alert! You have defeated: Chimera [7] Experience will be split between members of your party.

Level up! Level 17 -> 18 +2 Strength, +2 Dexterity, +2 Vitality, +2 Mental Control, +1 Will, +2 free attributes. You still have 1 free general Skill.

He saw that Zilly got a level as well.

They didn’t speak for a moment. Brin stood, gasping, checking for broken bones, and mentally replaying the fight in his mind. Zilly had really held her own. This was the power of a Dexterity-based [Warrior], he realized. Nobody was strong enough to overpower beasts ten times their size, even if they were higher level. The strongest man on earth was a weakling compared to the average silverback gorilla.

Should he change his approach? Most of his hardest fights would be against enemies that were a lot stronger than him. Since he already knew that was the case, maybe it would be smart to follow Zilly’s example and focus on speed and skill. That was also what Hogg had done. He’d built up a pretty good amount of free points, and he’d been leaning towards Magic, but maybe he should put them in Dexterity. The best argument was that Zilly had come out of that unscathed, while Brin had gotten hit twice.

Granted, neither tail-slap had even torn his clothes.

They stood side-by-side, looking down at the slain monster. The fight had been mostly silent, and now he realized how grateful he was that that was the case. He didn’t want anyone here to see him with a big dead monster.

No. Wait. He actually hadn’t done anything wrong this time. It was Zilly who had some explaining to do.

“What in Solia’s name was that, Zilly?” Brin asked.

“Best not answer that here,” said Hogg from behind them.

Zilly literally jumped like a startled cat, but Brin had been halfway expecting that. The spear had come from somewhere.

The shadows congealed on the ground, and then hands of darkness grabbed the chimera, dragging it back inside the silo. They locked the door, and then deposited the key into Hogg’s hand before shifting back into oblivion.

Hogg was getting really good at using [Hard Light] to mimic shadow powers. That had looked downright diabolical.

He wasn’t done hamming it up, either. His features were hard like a black granite countertop when he spoke. “Why don’t you two come with me? It’s time we had a chat.”

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