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"Lock, wake up."

…

"Lock? Lock Slaveborn, wake up."

…

"Lock, please. Wake up."

…n…

"Lock…"

The speaker trailed off and sighed.

My ears picked up the constant dripping of water. A single droplet falling from stalactite and falling into a puddle. It echoed. But such a small sound in the first place, that only those with enhanced [Hearing] stats could pick it up.

I heard the rustling of clothes. Robes? The person next to me shuffled. I heard the dull clatter of things being strewn out on the floor. Cavern floor? Beach sand? No. Rock. Cavern.

No, not a cavern. The sound of waves hitting rocks in the background.

A cavern mouth.

The person began to speak to himself. "Staff… good. My cloak is damaged."

His voice sounded familiar. But my head hurt so much that I couldn't figure out who it was.

Assess the situation. Figure out what the things I can do are. Figure out which one is the best course of action.

And do them.

A solid plan that kept me alive so far.

Which meant retracing my steps?

What was the last thing I remembered?

The gray clouds swirling overhead with the occasional flashes of lightning. Monsters swirling up in droves, screaming and spitting.

Arione Popindale. Our duel.

Fire. Wind. Magic.

Monsters. Shadow. Aura.

Elven Mage.

Human Adventurer Knight.

Then seeing it. The deathblow. The way to end the duel.

Like that moment in a boss-fight, when they're so close to dying. And they repeat the pattern which you've countered hundreds, no, thousands, no, tens of thousands of times before. Parry. Dodge. Counter. Strike. Whatever the method was, I saw it –the way to victory.

And putting an end to this blood feud.

But no.

Someone grabbing my ankle. Someone…

The orc priestess.

She had grabbed my ankle and stopped me from killing Arione.

But why? Why would she–

Then I remembered.

I fell. I had fallen into the ocean. A death sentence. The Imugi's were raging, the monsters were stampeding. Without a way to brave the waters…

Or perhaps not.

Perhaps I lived because the ocean was raging. The bigger the storm, the larger the eye. And falling right beneath where the Imugi had been was…

Was lucky.

What else did I remember?

Swirling lights being absorbed into me. A sphere, made of pure mana. White scales on one side, black scales on the other; each scale easily the size of my hand.

No doubt about it.

The Core of an Imugi. Grade-2.

So did the priestess help me? Or did she work against me?

Which was better?

Killing Arione? Or grabbing the Core?

Now I would never know. Because I never got to make that choice for myself.

The orc priestess made it for me.

I coughed.

"Lock? Lock!"

I slowly opened my eyes.

Kyrian Tricilan. The Mage whom I recruited. Or rather, who had recruited himself into my party back in Samak Desert. His face hovered before mine, looking worried.

"Oh, thank the light. You're awake."

"Not light. Luck." That's what I wanted to say. Instead what came out was, 'Nnnnnnnn'.

"You don't need to talk." Kyrian grimaced. "Just listen."

It hurt to have my eyes open. So I tried to nod and closed them.

"You have questions."

Yes. I had a lot of questions.

"That's going to have to wait."

I could agree with that. We needed to figure out where we were. Formulate a plan.

Find the others. Regroup.

Figure out how to get to Claw's Nest. Beat the [Player's Guild], to the [Autarch's Key]. And then–

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"This is Claw's Nest."

I stopped thinking.

"...A part of it at least." Kyrian's voice shifted, my [Hearing] picking up even the miniscule of change in his voice. He was looking out of the cave's mouth, into the ocean.

"Your throat was crushed. I barely got it to work with a healing potion. I think… I think a monster bit you in the neck."

Luck. Luck, luck, luck.

"I'm waiting for the wound to fully close. I don't know why, but it's taking awhile."

Probably the after-effects of Arione's poison. Not only did he use [Burn], but he had used [Poison]. It delayed healing, naturally. He hadn't spent his time unwisely. The elven mage had been preparing counters, ways to kill me. Getting around my build.

He had succeeded. Somewhat. His counters worked.

But he failed to account for my item: [Neung-uh's Ocarina].

I tried to move my fingers. They refused to budge. Actually, I felt nothing.

That was bad. And it scared me.

"After the wound fully closes, we can have you drink the potion. I had to pour it directly on the wound." He sounded apologetic.

Of course. Healing potions hurt like hell. It doesn't mater how many Cores you have. That's a universal rule of MSS. There are adventurers who quit after a single expedition because of how painful it is. If you're an adventurer, healing potions become a part of your life.

Having a good [Mental] stat helps though.

Apparently, that was all the thinking that my brain could do for the day. Even though my eyes were closed, they felt heavy. I felt my mind float out of my brain's grasp.

As I drifted off into unconsciousness, I heard Kyrian's last words.

"Don't worry, Lock. I'll keep watch."

I slept.

***

When I awoke, it was night.

Darkness had fallen over the ocean, submerging the world in a shade of blue like the ocean's deep.

But stars shone in the sky with foreign constellations. Constellations brighter and larger than that of earths, with much more colors. Not just a shining white light in the sky. Blue, red, green gemstone-like apparitions floated above us. Yet, the moon was the same. And tonight was a full-moon.

I sat up, absorbing everything inside the cavern's mouth.

As I suspected, it was a small alcove rather than a full-on cavern. Black rocks lined our feet and boulders protected us from the splashing waves. Still, the occasional sea bream managed to get through. Being night, the waves were stronger –slamming themselves against the timeless stones again and again.

Kyrian sat by the fire, drying our clothes. Without a word, I sat diagonal to him.

"How long have we been here?" I asked without preamble.

"Two days now. This is the second night."

I grunted. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

"Are you wounded?"

"No. I'm mostly fine."

I sighed. "And the others?"

He grimaced. "I do not know."

"Ok. I think I'm ready now. Tell me your part of the story."

He nodded, poking at the fire with the driftwood. "Not much to tell. After you went chasing off after Arione, the ship righted itself. I was working with the ship-mages, pouring mana to get the enchantments working. The moment the ship righted itself, Delas and his party returned to the fray. If it wasn't for Zenom and Skaris, all of us would have died."

"I'm guessing people died nonetheless."

"...The cultists started self-destructing, Lock."

I let out a breath. "Gods."

"I'd never seen anything like it." He kept staring into the fire, the embers flickering in his blue eyes. "I mean, I was a mercenary mage for the Akka Xaluds. I thought I'd seen some horrible things. But… these Cultists. They just… I didn't even know there was a Core for that."

"Kyrian."

"After Delas realized he wasn't getting to Fluporuin, he ordered all the cultists to self-destruct. At once."

I didn't say anything.

"I'd never seen a man blowing himself up, while smiling before."

I thought back to earth. "I haven't either."

"One of the mages shielded me."

"...Why?"

"Because I had more mana. Because I'd save more lives." He closed his eyes. "He said that before he died. He lived for quite a bit. But half his body had been burnt off. I'd… I'd seen burnt adventurers before. But adventurers always heal. This man was a mage. From a nameless Mage Tower. Not even Babel."

He was absorbed with guilt. Survivor's Guilt, I believe that's what they called it. Or maybe it's not that. I'm not a psychiatrist.

Regardless, the young Mage was haunted. He just prodded the fire, delivering everything in a calm, deadened tone.

"The ship couldn't handle all the explosions and splintered off into pieces. In the wreckage, I washed ashore on this little piece of land and found you."

"Thank you." I said.

A ghost of a smile flashed on his face. "We're comrades."

"Yes, we are."

He nodded, as if that word alone was enough to root him in the presence. Whatever happened after this island, dealing with the scenes of that boat would be his own weight to bear. Aurora, Stole, and Skaris as well.

It bothered me that I wasn't as bothered by him by it.

…Maybe I'm more of a [Player] than I thought.

I changed topics. "How do you know this is Claw's Island?"

"I can't be sure. But the descriptions match. Rocky outcroppings, a mountain made of black stone. Tiny alcoves and other land formations surrounding it." He pointed with the tip of the smoldering stick, "Look in that direction."

I squinted my eyes, trying to drown out the ambient light of the fire. I had [Darkvision], yes. An enhanced version of it, in fact. But it didn't work like the videogame. In real life, it took time. Especially when sitting next to a bonfire which cast an orange glow on everything.

But in time, my eyes activated with gentle urging from my mind.

Across the body of the ocean, I saw a tall island. Built like a mountain that jutted straight from the ocean. My [Vision] stat was good enough to see hundreds of tiny holes there too. Man-sized holes, monster-sized holes, ship-sized holes.

Claw's Nest wasn't just an island. It was a dungeon.

"...Two hours."

"Two hours?"

"If we swim." I estimated the distance between us and Claw's Nest.

"I don't know how to swim."

"Two and a half, if I carry you on my back."

Kyrian nodded. "Chance of a monster attack?"

"Not none."

I got a chuckle out of him. Keeping up morale was part of my job after all.

"By the way, I didn't get to ask." Kyrian said, "Arione. Did you kill him?"

I shook my head. "No." And I explained what happened. Everything, even the Orc Priestess part. Kyrian deserves it. He's my comrade.

He was quiet for a long time. I thought I disappointed him by being unable to kill Arione, but when he spoke, it was for a different matter.

"Lock, are you sure she's a healer?"

"Hmmm. Almost certain." I frowned, "Why?"

"Nothing. Just…" Kyrian shrugged. "Jared Akka Xalud was different than many of the War Princes. You know, if martial ability was all it took to keep the Uleum Hordes at bay, than any other War Prince could have done it."

"I'm listening."

"Rumors. It's just rumors."

"What is it?"

"That Jared Akka Xalud was never one to go on the battlefield. He preferred to break down his enemies, piece by piece. Spies. Intelligence. Sabotage. Those sorts of things. That his tactics were considered dishonorable by many of the other houses, especially the Vetilius House, which values honor above all else."

"You're afraid that the priestess is a spy?"

"Yes." Kyrian let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not an Elf. So it's not as good but… her mana. It's not… how should I say… there's a certain feel of mana that most healers give off. Especially Priestesses and Priests. Those blessed by their gods. Especially someone like Clover or Cecilia, who practically radiates it."

"Go on…"

"The orc priestess… I feel… nothing. Almost nothing. But sometimes… I think I did feel something. And it definitely wasn't a healer's mana."

"What was it then?"

"An adventurer's mana. I think." Then he added, "Take it with a grain of salt. Elves are specialized for this sort of thing. Most mages can do it to some extent, but it's more of an art than a science really."

I thought about it for a moment longer, trying to put the puzzle pieces before me.

"...Whatever she is, she could have killed me."

"Maybe she tried."

I nodded, "True. It could be seen that way. But I know when someone wants to kill me. She… she was doing something else. I think… I think she wanted me to take the Imugi Core. She didn't care about Arione, it wasn't about him at all."

"Regardless of what her intentions are, I'm only pointing out the possibility that she might not be all that she seems to be."

"She's definitely not what she seems to be." Another thing to worry about. "But she's not an enemy. Not yet, atleast."

"Agreed. It doesn't sound like Jared Akka Xalud had any negative feelings towards us."

"I called him a coward and challenged his second in command."

"Which he probably manipulated into doing." Kyrian shrugged, "You're not hard to predict, Lock."

I snorted. "I can keep watch now. You should go to sleep."

"Got it." He laid down a long strip of cloth, his ruined cloak, and proceeded to use it as a bedroll. "And Lock?"

"Yes?"

"...We'll find them. They're alive. Skaris, Aurora, Stole. Arrosh. Zenom, Doror. All of them."

So many nams. So many people.

What were the chance that everyone survived the shipwreck?

Pretty good… being a strong adventurer meant having higher chances of survival. That was a rule of MSS.

But another question popped up.

What were the chances we'd all be alive at the end of this?

"Wake me up in four hours."

"Good night, Kyrian."

"Good night, Lock."

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