Arlene arrived first back to the camp—the one she had slept in with Wattyson. She expected him to be here already, but he wasn’t. Looking around was just the same Hub filled with people readying for dungeon diving.

  “Huh.” She let out. She was sure he would be back by now. Was the meeting going longer than expected? Looking up to the thick canopy above and judging by the light’s angle shining down, it was nearly midday by now.

  She reached out to the tent, swaying it flaps open to reveal the inside. He wasn’t in there. “Figure,” she chuckled to herself. “It’s not like he’s a Jack in the Box?”

  “A what?”

  His voice from behind jolted her. “Great heaven!” She quickly shut the tent’s flaps as if she was trying to hide something before turning to him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  He was just standing there. His robe dragging slightly on the ground, and the staff of course was in his hand. Arlene squinted at him. She could’ve sworn if he was walking while clicking that staff around, she would’ve heard. Years of battle-forged senses would’ve alerted her and... She had a thought.

  She raised a lazy finger. “Watty,” she pointed to the bottom of his robe. It was touching the ground yes, but the length was shorter than usual. “Watty, are you floating?”

  “Yes?”

  His answer came so naturally and nonchalantly. She already knew he would float sometimes hence why he always wore robe, but to do it here too. She thought he didn’t want to use magic too much. Mundanity triumphed everything was his philosophy. Well, she wouldn’t fault him for it. If she had a limp, she would too.

  She rested her hands on her waist. “So?” She had a smirking smile. “You’re done with your date?”

  He rolled his eyes as he nudged her away to enter the tent. He widened the flap, and sat down inside. “I guess meeting an overworked sleep-deprived bureaucratic workers is what you’d call a date then yes, I’m done.”

  “Oh? Did you… hush it out together? Work on some sort of an agreement?”

  “Yes. We did.”

  “…Will you tell me about it?”

  “No.”

  “Figures.” She stood right near the entrance of the tent. Noticing the slight shift in the corner of his lip curving downward, she decided to not push for movement, at least not yet. Perhaps he was tired.

  She wanted to tell him about what she was up to while he was gone. About how she went to check on the group, and the mock probing she did with Naciv. Her mouth opened before quickly closing back. She remembered what Wattyson had always told her, and now with Naciv too; the Supernatural are everywhere, and they could be watching and listening.

  The Hub might not be safe, especially here in the bustling area of the Hub. Should she bring him to that weapon wagon or supply wagon again? No, that wouldn’t do. It was nearing noon and people would be returning there soon.

  There was only one truly safe place in her mind at this time; the Treehouse Inn back in Toulasi—their room. Perhaps Anire too when she finally decided to tell her.

  “Arlene.”

  She quickly hummed out answering Wattyson.

  “Where do we go next?” He asked, his eyes up to hers.

  “Well,” she answered tapping her own hands. “I’m thinking to the Adventurer’s Guild first, so we can at least get compensated for our works. Then, your choice.”

  “Oh my, the Chosen One is truly humbled to grant me a choice.”

  “Shut it you. Either to Anire’s or back to our inn. Which do you prefer?”

  Wattyson didn’t replied immediately. “Hmmmm,” he drawn out as he tapped his chin. “How about you go to Anire and I take a well earn rest back at the inn? Sounds fair to me. Yes, I agree.”

  He quickly got up and floated out the tent. His shoulder was immediately grabbed by her.

  “Hold on a minute!” She spun him around. “We have to go together! We’re a unit, dear O’Grand Chaos,” she teased out with a smile. “It would be easier to explain those slime cores you gracefully lugged into my bag.”

  He gazed to her with confusion. “The… slime core?” he mouthed it out slowly. Just as quickly, he blinked realizing it, “Right. Those.” He was the one who picked those up and suggested they gave the cores to Anire. It was his attempt to get Anire to be busy with something else that wasn’t forcing him to drink more vials. He didn’t wish to be bloated no longer.

  With a reluctant sigh and his shoulders slumped, he brushed her hand off. “Alright,” he said dejectedly. “Let’s go to your guild then to Anire’s.” Without waiting for her reply, he resumed his floaty strides. It wasn’t that fast.

  She already caught up to him. Her eyebrow raised at the deliberate slowness of his pace. “You’re just trying to delay it again, aren’t you?” She had seen this coming.

  “No. I’m at max energy right now.”

  It was the usual lie. She saw him this morning with the halberdiers. She gave him a smack on the back. “Chin up, Watty. The faster you go to the Guild and Anire’s with me, the faster you get to sleep in the inn.” A bait laid out for him to stop this pointless silent protest.

  A bait he was lured to. He hummed lightly—acknowledgement. “You make a very good point.”

  “Of course, I do. Come on. Get to it.” She began to speed up her pace, checking if he would actually concede fully. He did. At this speed, they would get to the Guild by an hour and a half.

  Through the Hub, then the forest of Tu’ei and into Toulasi they went. The route back was much calmer than before even though the scenery was the same old green. The smell of wet soils and leaves remained throughout before the gate of Toulasi even though there wasn’t any rain yesterday, nor did they pass any streams.

  Along the way, Arlene could hear him grumping to himself; ‘Why didn’t we bring Horse?’ It was a valid complaint. Why didn’t Arlene?

  She just didn’t want to. The distance between the city and the Hub wasn’t that far—enough to warrant a mount. Besides, she wouldn’t know what dangers may lurk near the Hub. She didn’t want to risk it.

  To stop him muttering complaints, she voiced to him her reasons. To seal it shut, she lightly jabbed at his shoulder—just enough to sting slightly.

  Coming to the gate, Arlene thanked herself once again she managed to make him get an Adventurer’s Guild ID. They were let in easily.

  It was the middle of the afternoon now. The blue sky was clear with the shining star brightly burning in the distance. The people of Toulasi continued their works, all waving and bowing slightly in the presence of Arlene, again, as show of appreciation. Arlene, still, waved politely and had a forced smile on. She was still not used to this.

  Wattyson spoke in a voice loud enough only for her to hear amidst all the chattering from passers-by and workers. “When will you ever get used to it?”

  She shot him an eye and hissed at him. “It’s not that easy!” Her eyes narrowed at the sight of his face—a subtle change at his lip; He was smirking.

  “Do you want to try on one of my robe?” He said as he fluttered the sleeves of his robe slightly to not make a scene.

  “Baggy clothes won’t save me, Watty.” She retorted still having one eye on him circling his arms around to flutter them more.

  “No. It would.” He slid his hand to the back of his neck and lifted up the hood of his robe. “See?” He turned to her fully, showing his fully cloaked head. “Harder to recognize from all sides,” he waved his hand at his eye’s level, “half so from the front too.”

  It made her ponder how she would look like in robe. That long frilly robe with long soft sleeves along her arms. How the fabric would just go below her knees…? It wasn’t robe she was imagining; it was a dress.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “I wore mines as a symbol as much as it is practical. I’m not you. I still need to play my part in this post-Dark Lord world… even if I’m reduced to a figurehead somewhat.”

  The real world never left her. She was fully aware of what she was now, even if she didn’t want this new status and fame. It would’ve been easy just to disappear into the woods somewhere or villages and lived out her life, but her good natures and conscious didn’t allow it. This adventurer, the request from her mentor and her other goals in uncovering the prophecy if slaying the Dark Lord was all there was to it. They were all important but in the end distraction—a detour.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Her strides were full of confidence still. Head held high as she walked. Hand was rested on the pommel of that trusty longsword on her waist. Her free hand continued to wave at the passers-by and those who were looking up to her. The same smile played.

  They were the small things that helped. Just a figurehead, though a powerful one, to bring peace to the people.

  Wattyson stepped closer to her, to match her pace. Though admittedly, she noticed the way he moved was smooth. He really just floated closer to her.

  His tone was mellow out—more quiet. “Sounds rough.” He bluntly said. “Do you… never think what happen if you just don’t play your part?”

  Her head shook. “No. I just… couldn’t see myself otherwise.” She elbowed him on the side—with the strength of small child. “Come on. Just walk with me to the Guild.”

  The message came across to him; she didn’t’ want to speak on this. He didn’t push and abided her wish. Just a walk or float to the guild—to report accomplishment of the dungeon.

  In the Adventurer’s Guild, there were barely any inside. It was in the middle of the afternoon—people were out on their quests already. This clear open and quiet space was perfect. Wattyson didn’t show it, but Arlene imagined him to be pumping his fist inside that robe of his.

  She stopped just past the entrance to glance to him over her shoulder. “Will you come with me this time to the reception hall?” She didn’t finish properly, and he was already shaking his head.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you not want to increase your adventurer’s rank?”

  “I don’t care about those, Arlene. You know that.”

  “I do, but wouldn’t it be nice? Being at the same rank as me,” she flourished her hair to flow with the winds—imaginative winds, “an SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Rank.”

  “You added more S.”

  “That’s just how immaculate I am.”

  He just stared at her. “I’m not sure that’s not how the word ‘immaculate’ work.”

  “Doesn’t matter!” She pulled him aside so they would stand clear from the entrance in case others were using it. “Are you coming or not?”

  “No.”

  “Ughh. Give me your card then. At least I’ll get them to update your ranking and credentials.”

  The words landed on him, and it didn’t register right. “…You can just tell them increase my rank?” It sounded like that to him.

  “No, stupid. It’s…” She said with her mouth hung open. She never actually thought about it. How did they track it? “How about you come with me and find out?” She quickly added to save face.

  “I… Fine. Here’s my card.” He reached to the leather bag hung at her side and pulled out that shiny adventurer’s card of his. “I shall bestow upon you, my card.”

  “Much oblige, O’ Grand Chaos.” She took the card and jabbed at him. “Go sit somewhere. I’ll come to you when I’m done.” She said, offering him the freedom to find a sit while very clearly pointing to the one right near the window—the brightly lid one. He very much obliged.

  Arlene made her way to the reception hall, taking light steps as if it was she was using her indoor voice. At that desk ahead, Veia was there dozing off. It was a slow day in the city, and here too Arlene supposed.

  She didn’t call to her immediately. She stopped right at the desk, leaning forward to sneak a peek over the desk. There wasn’t much paperwork on her desk, at least not like before when that dungeon was still a problem. Maybe the successful kill yesterday eased a lot of people’s burden? If so, the guild moved fast.

  Without further ado, she faked a cough.

  “Mm?” Veia lazily lifted her head up. Eyes were barely opened. “What is it? If you need a quest,” she said mid-yawning, “you can find one on the board in the far left.”

  Veia stretched and rubbed her eyes. “Mmm… you’re still her—Oh! Miss Chosen One! It’s you!” She yelped. Her posture straightened and hands folded in front. “How may I help you?” There was a faint pink coloring her cheeks.

  “Oh,” Arlene waved her lazily—suggesting her to ease down. “I’m just here to report on the dungeon. Me, Watty and three others had successfully slain the monster in Floor Forty. The dungeon should be safe to explore and dive, though I would advise caution.”

  She tilted herself slightly to glance behind Veia’s. There were less stacks of paper than before. “I assume words have reached this guild higher-up?”

  Veia nodded. “Oh yes. Last night... well just past midnight, a courier came demanding to see the Guildmaster. Important news and of course, it is about the dungeon.” She crouched down before returning, lifting up a large bag. Dropping it echoed out a clanking sounds.

  “He took this out of the treasury as a quest reward for you, Miss Chosen One.” She added. “Would you like to count it at the rune scale?”

  Arlene shook. “No need.” She took the offered bags of coin and carefully shoved it into her leather bag. It was quite heavy and didn’t quite fit. “Actually, can you umm… Hold on.” She dropped the bag back onto the table between them, and took out enough coins to survive a quarter of a year for two people. She looked to Veia, “The rest can you put them into my adventurer’s card?”

  The question didn’t come as a surprise to Veia. It was a large sum of money. “Of course. However, I should inform you even with all of these coins, it’ll be hard to withdraw from other branch. Are you sure?”

  “I am sure. I’ll just be taking small amounts each time.”

  “Very well. I’ll make the proper process.” She took the bag back and gently put it under her desk. “Would you kindly give me your card?”

  “Yes of course. Also, can you update Wattyson’s card too? I would like the previous dungeon experience to reflect on his card too.” Arlene handed her two cards.

  “Of course.”

  Veia brought out another device. Another magical item in the form of a circular globe. It could very well be related to astrology. She inserted Arlene’s card into the device first. The entire rings orbiting around the device began to spin fast enough Arlene could feel winds blowing in her direction—just a faint breeze. It shined in golden light always. The rings spun still, calibrating what she did in the dungeon to reflect on her card.

  While waiting, Arlene remembered the question Wattyson asked, so she decided to parrot it over to Veia. She was curious too after all.

  “Say,” she began leaning onto the desk and tapping along the wooden surface. “How do the guild know anyway during calibration? Like for rank update such as how much their strength is ranked or magic ability and whatnot? I don’t think it’s through more physical exams or test right? I didn’t do any of that.”

  A small pause from her before quickly adding, “At least from what I’ve remembered.”

  Veia stared at her—really stared at her. Here was the Chosen One asking such question. A slow blink followed by another. “I-I thought you knew?” She finally let out. “It was in the paperwork signed by adventurers upon registering. Did… you not read it?”

  Arlene scoffed. “No, no. I definitely read it, but… you know how it is. I sometimes forget you know. I think it would be great to know again now that I’m just an adventurer most of the time. Who knows? Maybe a lot of people sign up to be adventurers because of me. I ought to tell them the whole procedures and regulations right?”

  “Hmm… that does sounds good for spreading the words—in other word, free marketing.” Veia said as she gazed to nowhere. “Alright. It should help with the hassle of explaining everything at the desk I surmise.”

  Veia nudged the device to the side, still calibrating. Crouching down once more then back up, she brought forth an old tome. It had a symbol on the cover Arlene immediately recognized—eights wands with stars each at the tip forming a circle. It was her mentor’s—Vilvane’s insignia.

  The book dropped onto the desk, landing with smokes of small stars dusting off the entire book. “Let’s see here,” said Veia opening the tome. “According to the Great Sage, the card is imbued with a mana circuit designed to run a magic spell in a loop. It uses mana from the surrounding environment. You can think of it like how mana-lantern can still operate for a long, long while. Just a tiny speck can make it run for years. It says here it just take mana from anyone or anything touching it. Even clothes carry residual of mana.”

  It was a siphoning spell in a way. The ability to absorb mana from anything touching it was alarming to Arlene. It was something her mentor once rambled about. That siphoning technique in mana could kill, yet this information came from the tome with his insignia. She had to wonder if that rambling came from experience, and whether this was intentional from his part to keep the siphoning on a miniscule level.

  On other ends, it raised another question. How did it siphon something from someone with nothing the card desire? Wattyson was devoid of mana. From Anire’s explanation, his body acted as a vacuum sucking all the mana in whenever he wanted to use magic. Wouldn’t his clothes be void of it too?

  Then that thinking came crashing down. That card of his was in her bag, not on him. She rolled her eyes at herself. She nodded to Veia. “How does the card keep track of adventurer’s ability then?”

  Veia flipped a few pages—few relative to the tome that could mean hundreds. It made Arlene wonder did her mentor really wrote this thick of a tome? It might as well be a religious scripture.

  “According to this passage,” Veia began. “the card is able to… shoot out its mana to the sky then back onto the surface?” Her expression was bewildered. “Apparently, it shoots out data to the sky and the moon then back onto the surface, recalibrating what is real and what is not?”

  “Huh?”

  “It says that right here.”

  “What does that even mean?!”

  “My apologies, Miss Chosen One. Even I do not know… let me flip through a few more pages. Ah. Here we go.” Veia faked a cough as if to start over. “It says here the card is imbued with divine magic that actively scan your activities and your capabilities. It measures the two and give an estimate amount which we use as ranking.”

  “Right… all activities?”

  Veia shook fast. “No. Activities here listed are things relating to monsters, dungeons or floras. The card can detect by sending out mana in a wide burst then listen in to what kind of mana responding back.”

  Arlene tried her best to listen in, but the more she did the more it felt like the card was a tool use to spy on people, and this was divine magic? “Veia, which god is that divine magic from?”

  “The divine magic that Vilvane managed to water it down for us to use is from,” she dragged out as she skimmed through the page. “The Laughing God, Khahetra.”

  “I will never visit that god’s shrine again.”

  The rings stopped spinning around the globe device. It let out a satisfying ding. Veia took the card out and handed it back to Arlene. “Your card has finished calibrating and adding funds to your account. May you please hand over Wattyson’s card so I may begin?”

  Arlene took the card, but offered nothing in return. “Actually… I think he’s fine staying in C rank. I think if he wants his stats to be calibrated, he would come here himself.”

  Veia tilted her head. “Are you sure?” She asked genuinely. “Adventurers would never pass up the opportunity to report on their success and calibrate after that. He’ll be missing out on better quest options and events in the future.”

  “I’m aware,” Arlene answered. “I don’t think he minds. Don’t worry. I’ll explain to him more on those…”

  “Okay. If you confirm it so, Miss Chosen One. Please inform him just because he didn’t calibrate his card after the dungeon doesn’t mean it will go away. Information is saved forever until calibration. It may take longer if he went on more quests before calibration as everything needs to be scanned.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Veia bowed. “Thank you, Miss Chosen One, and thank you again for the dungeon. The guild in Toulasi offered our deepest gratitude to you.”

  Arlene quickly turned away with red cheeks. “You don’t have to. I’m just doing my duty as the Chosen One. I can’t leave a problem behind.”

  “Of course, Miss Chosen One, and yet again, we would like to thank you for it. It was you who solved it when everyone at the Guild couldn’t.”

  Arlene didn’t say anything back and raced back to Wattyson. He was there at that bright seat, dozing off to the warm sunlight. She didn’t want to say anything until she was near.

  “You’re done already?” He said with his eyes closed. “So? What’s my new rank?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She stood still and somehow his head still turned directly to her. That eyes still shut.

  “Oh, still C rank. Unfortunate.” She said in a teasing remark.

  “Really? Eh. I don’t really care.” He stood up or rather floated up—hidden by that robe of his. “Now,” he opened his eyes finally as he picked up his staff. “We’ll be going to Anire’s right?”

  “Yes.” Her answer came quiet before increasing. “Yes. We will. Come on Watty.” She didn’t wait for him as she was already walking toward the exit.