Golden light twisted across the smooth stone of the cave, cast by pulsing veins running through the walls and stretching up like fingers to crawl across the ceiling far overhead. The shifting light almost resembled a clear seabed under the noon sun. Shadows danced across the ground and a chittering roar intertwined with yelled orders and the delicate song of a harp. Arwin’s fingers twitched at his sides. He’d been through more dungeons in his life than he could count, but he’d never just intentionally stood back and done absolutely nothing while people he cared about went up against a boss monster at a higher tier than their own. The ground bucked beneath Arwin as a huge pincer-like appendage slammed into the ground. Another scream ripped through the cave, echoing against the walls and rolling against his ears like crashing waves. Two ivory eyestalks topped with molten red orbs swept over the room as the Adept 4 Armored Ripfish spun. It was covered with thick, red plates of pitted chitinous material and stood on ten legs, five on each side of its lobster-like body. It had a laughably tiny mouth with two far less amusing claws. One was about ten feet wide, while the other was nearly twice that and definitely far too large for the monster’s body. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to have told the Ripfish that. It swung both of its huge claws like wrecking balls, not even bothering trying to pinch anything with them. The monster really didn’t live up much to the second half of its name. It did, however, smell strongly of the ocean and rotted seafood. The stench rolling from the monster was enough to count as an extra attack. It wormed into Arwin’s throat and stabbed at his brain like a physical blow. Another crash shook the room as the Ripfish swung a claw at Elias and narrowly missed smashing the ground and sending fragments of rock flying everywhere. The bandaged man ran to the side, then hopped back as the Ripfish charged forward, thin legs driving into the ground and piercing into the stone where he’d been moments before. “Shift aggression!” Olive yelled, running past Elias and bounding into the air, Maeve’s magic wrapping around her body and trailing through the air behind her like a shimmering white stream. Hazel lunged forward and drove her foot down, slamming the man’s face into the bloodied dirt. She ground her heel against his cheek, baring her teeth in amusement. He’s still just a normal man. A non-adventurer can never compete with someone that has access to the Mesh. “You’re a squirmy fucker, you know that? Someone like you belongs in the dirt, not standing among people with talent. Keep that in mind for your next life. ” Hazel said, flipping her sword around in her hand so it was point down. There was a blur, and Hazel’s mind had an instant to recognize that the vagrant had somehow thrust his entire body up, not even trying to move his head from beneath her foot as he contorted in what should have been an impossible way to kick her in the stomach. The air drove from her lungs and she staggered back with a wheeze. The man rose to his feet, his fist snapping out and slamming into Hazel’s chin. It rocked her head back but did little more than make her stumble a step back. “Tell me where the healer is,” the man said. “Eat shit,” Hazel replied. “Joe, Joe — kill this idiot. It’s three on one.” “Don’t play with him next time,” one of the Joes said angrily. He and his brother both lurched forward — The man spun. He grabbed both Joes by the head and slammed them into each other with a loud crack. Even though he didn’t have nearly enough strength to kill them with that strike alone, he scooped the club from one of their hands before they could react. Hazel lunged and thrust her sword for his back. The vagrant didn’t even look at her. His foot snapped up and collided with her chin, knocking her from her course and sending her stumbling. By the time she turned back to him, a loud crunch rang out. Three more followed in rapid succession. One of the Joes crumpled to the ground, his skull caved in. The other screamed in rage and loss, only for the club to connect with his temple an instant later. Despite his best efforts to catch the vagrant, the ratty man dodged out of the way of several grabs and swung his club twice more. The second Joe crumpled beside his brother. Blood plipped against the wet ground. The Vagrant turned to Hazel. The dirt that had caked the bottom of her shoe was still on the side of his face. He wiped it from his cheek, then adjusted his grip on the club. “The healer,” the vagrant said. “Where is he?” The vagrant lunged. Hazel whipped her sword up, thrusting it for his chest and leaving him no time to dodge. But the vagrant didn’t try to dodge. He twisted his club, letting Hazel’s sword drive straight through it. As soon as it lodged, he thrust the weapon to the side and carried the blade away from his heart. He grabbed Hazel’s neck with his other hand, pulling her so close that their lips nearly touched. Then an elbow slammed into Hazel’s skull. Weak or not, the blow was enough to send stars flying before her vision. He struck her again. She staggered, dropping to one knee. Her vision blurred and his face shifted, overlaying over itself. “Kien?” Hazel rasped, horror wrapping around her neck like a noose. “Kien of the Twin Blades? A hero came to kill bandits?” “The healer,” Kien repeated, jerking Hazel to her feet and slamming his forehead into her nose. It broke with a crunch, sending blood spilling across her face. “Where is he?” “Mi-ben!” Hazel said-sobbed. “He’s in Mibben!” “Yes! Let me go, please! I’ll stop being a bandit, I swear!” A spark of hope lit in Hazel’s pained chest.