The group crossed an empty cavern, in no way different than any other before it. There were differences between caverns of course, like a different type of stone. Some caves were made out of stone that glittered like gold, others seemed to be sandstone or equally boring materials. In some caves there were stalagmites and stalactites, in others there were not. Some caves even were made entirely out of soil and roots. But there was not really any rhyme or reason why there were different types of caves. You could go from a soil based cave to one out of solid rock and there was barely any indication it would happen. In some ways this made navigating easier, since it was not uniform, but remembering each and every cavern was difficult. Their layout was also very varied and so the difficulty was mainly not to get lost in the myriad of options. Each cave had up to ten openings to tunnels or adjacent caves and in the dim light of the glowstones it was hard to make out anything even for Aaron's improved eyesight after a dozen or so meters. So when Roger indicated which of the dozens of openings Aaron should take, Aaron had for the first time an inkling of how difficult it would be to move through this floor without guides. It truly was a labyrinth and it was filled with monsters. But to his surprise the next cavern that followed after a long and slightly damp tunnel, had light in it, unlike any of the other caves they had moved through so far. Aaron could smell the stink of rats and when he peered into the cavern first he studied a massive rat nest.

Bones and carapaces formed nests the furry creatures housed in. The nests were clustered around a central glowing pool that looked like a very bright swimming pool with lights at the bottom to Aaron. A light pool like he had seen when first coming to this floor. In front of that pool was a monstrosity. A gigantic rat? It had some similarities to rats, like its skinny tail and the general furry appearance. But it was more then 5 meters long and 2 meters broad. Its head and a few of its limbs were deformed. Bulbous growths that looked cancerous littered its body. It had 5 arms, all tipped with sharp dirty claws and 4 stumpy legs that seemed more at home on an elephant than a rat. Its deformed head, that seemed too small for its body, had 5 beady eyes arranged around its skull haphazardly. Its jaw was massive compared to the rest of its face and consisted of rows of crooked, rotting teeth. It looked like someone or something had enlarged two rats and then spliced them together into some unholy abomination with way too many limbs. It looked more akin to a centipede and its stench made Aaron gag, even from this far away.

Aaron frowned at the thing and ducked back into the tunnel.

"I am guessing the giant freaking mutated rat is the light pools guardian?" he asked and when Roger stuck his head out to have a quick look he nodded.

"This floor has a fair few mutated or spliced together creatures. Nasty stuff. They all come with additional organs and shit like that. Hard to kill, especially if supported by a group of monsters. If you want to, we can take some of the swarming rats." Roger offered and Aaron considered it, before shaking his head.

"Let me try it by myself first. Looks like it could be a good fight."

"Suit yourself, we will be waiting here then." Roger said and positioned the glowstones so the tunnel entrance was easily visible. Aaron nodded and stepped out into the rat infested cavern.

Squeaking and alarm rose from thousands of tiny throats, but these rats were used to light and their eyes were smaller than the ones he had seen before. His presence had alerted them, not the light. Which was quite the difference to the rest of the fourth floor Aaron had visited so far.

Without missing a beat Aaron leapt forward and smashed into a group of rats, decimating them with quick precise strikes while the mass of rodents was still lethargic. He rampaged through two nests before the typical swarm of rats formed around him and they started to attack him fiercely. But these rats, like their brethren had no idea on how to fight him and they made the same mistakes as their kin had in the first fight. Whenever Aaron had his back to a group of rats they attacked, making them predictable and easy targets. Aaron spun around every few seconds, smashing the rats into bits with two fists, before moving out of the way. If this had been a normal cavern, this would have been it, he could have continued in this pattern until the rat pack had dispersed, but not in this one. The slight rumble as the guardian of the light pool stepped closer indicated this very much was a boss fight. Aaron switched to a more defensive style as he watched the giant rat abomination walk forwards. The lower part of its body was slow, cumbersome, but its arms and upper body were surprisingly agile. Its four legs stepped around rats and did not squish them into mush. Its strange head looking straight at Aaron, beady eyes glaring like dark pinpricks of malice.

With a leap Aaron moved out of the encirclement by the mass of rats and shot towards the rat abomination. So far he had found that going on the offensive was the best strategy against enemies that typically killed anything in their way. They did not expect it and they were typically bad at actually defending themselves. He halted his momentum as the rat sliced at him with its giant claws and when its head darted forward like the head of a snake he shot downwards, evading it barely. Damn that head was quick. Aaron landed in a group of rats, smashing them to pieces under his boots before he dove forwards again, ducking under claws and diving past its other limbs trying to punish him for dodging. Aaron slipped past its front around its side, his fists cracking into its giant stumpy legs as he moved around the creature, only occasionally swatting rats away from him. He used his speed and maneuverability to deal with this thing. Its cumbersome nature meant it had to turn slowly before its agile limbs could attack him. Aaron battered the creatures legs and it felt like hitting stone. But its knees were buckling under the weight of its horrible body and the sudden assault. Even though it did not look like Aaron did much damage, the creature roared in pain and fell to the side, crushing a whole bunch of rats underneath it. Aaron leapt into the air, landing on its hideous back and started to bash downwards with his fists.

This thing was not as sturdy as the dalkstalker and under his assault Aaron left bloody masses of torn fur and bloody flesh behind. But to Aaron's surprise the creature quickly turned its torso on the ground so that Aaron had to move or be thrown off. Aaron jumped off and landed on the creatures lower back, stomping on it to make the things legs buckle again and yet it got its arms around and started to attack him again. No normal creature could have done this. It was basically ignoring its own spine and turning its torso 180 degrees. It made Aaron's skin crawl and he moved back, smashed his fists into another leg while backing off and then he was back in the mass of rats. The rats were much more aggressive than he had expected and they died in droves. But this gave the giant rat abomination enough time to get back to its feet and attack him. Dark blood was turning the creatures fur even more ruddy and the coppery smell of battle was in the air, even eclipsing the stink of the rat nest itself.

Aaron kept up the assault, slowly meticulously he tore into the creature. When it kept attacking him with its arms, Aaron started breaking them. His body was a lot sturdier than the creature's and Aaron's quick evasive moves fueled by wind steps made him almost impervious to the mass of rats trying to hinder or trap him. After he had taken out a couple of arms, the fight got easier and he only had to look out for its maw. The concentration necessary to do this meant he was getting bit by random rats more, but he was making progress. The creature was now bleeding from many wounds. Aaron leapt into the air, baiting the head and when it attacked Aaron stopped his momentum, letting the maw pass by him, before he smashed into the creatures head with terrible force. Aaron heard bone break and felt a sharp pain run up his fists as he smashed the side of the creatures head in. But the abomination was a hardy creature and it took Aaron another ten minutes until he had finally killed it by bashing its tiny head in. The swarm of rats scarpered away when the abomination died, leaving Aaron behind on a battlefield. Rat corpses were everywhere, most of them smashed to tiny bits and the stink of dead rat was so pervasive Aaron had to gag. He was covered from head to toe in the dark blood of the abomination and although he was not physically tired, his mind was. Keeping up the concentration and slowly but surely whittling away at the beast had taken quite a bit of focus and Aaron knew this would only get worse the more dangerous his opponents got.

"Its done." he called towards the tunnel the group was still taking shelter in. Aaron stepped closer to the light pool while Roger's group moved through the battlefield. There at the bottom of the pool were glowstones glittering like small LED lights in the clear water. When the adrenaline and the tension left his body Aaron was only left with the disgusting feeling of his skin sticky with blood and of his own smell. He stank of sweat and gore so badly it was nauseating to himself. He turned to Roger who studied the dead rat abomination and asked:

"Can I take a bath in this pool? Or do we need it for water?"

Roger looked at him, gave him a once over and nodded.

"Go ahead, there are enough springs around here to get fresh water."

Aaron got out of his disgusting clothes, except his underwear and dove into the pool. He washed himself thoroughly with soap and ignored Shia staring at his almost naked body. He cursed silently as he washed gore out of his hair and although he knew this was a pointless exercise, that he would be just as dirty and disgusting after the next battle. Aaron was still glad for it. Once he was done cleaning himself, he turned to his clothes and cursed as he cleaned his shirt with clumsy hands, trying not to tear the fabric in two in frustration. Shia chuckled and took his shirt from him.

"Let me do that. And no, not because I am a woman." she stated with a roll of her eyes. Aaron raised his eyebrows.

"Go ahead if you can do better." he said.

"As a matter of fact, I can." she said with a smirk and pulled out a small flask from a pouch at her belt.

"This little potion is what you want." she said and gently applied a few drops on the stained fabric. The dark shirt was made out of spider silk, Aaron knew and its dark color made it quite resistant to stains, but not impervious. After Shia had applied the potion she dunked it into the water and Aaron watched with surprise as the dirt, dried blood and gore just washed off in an instant.

"Woah, that is useful." Aaron said, knelt down next to her and studied the now almost pristine shirt. Shia handed it to him with a blush at his proximity, before she took his pants and repeated the whole procedure.

"It's an alchemical solution most female climbers buy. Its very useful if you don't want to ruin every single piece of clothing you own."

"Hey, not just women use that, you know." Robin said in protest.

"Yeah? Look at yourself and tell me that again." Shia responded and raised her eyebrows at Robin. Robin looked down at himself and shrugged.

"This is fine. That stuff is not free you know. I can go another few days without laundry."

"See, that is what I mean."

Aaron got his pants back and got dressed, ignoring the wet fabric clinging to his limbs.

"Thanks." he said to Shia who gave him a smirk.

"It would be a shame to hide that pretty body of yours under a layer of filth." she said with a wink.

Aaron smiled as an answer and felt much better like this. It would be a good thing too, because without stinking to high heaven he would be far sneakier. And unless he had many fights to wade through, his next target were people. Although it was difficult even to his enhanced senses to tell if he really stank less. The rat nest still stank diabolically, but at least he had done his best to clean up. Aaron made sure his supplies were set as he stowed his belt, dagger and potions again. Then he turned to Roger who was studying his map in the light of the light pool. Mortimer was fishing out new glowstones from the pool, while he dropped their own glowstones into the water.

"So, where to next?" Aaron asked and Roger looked up.

"There should be a decent camp site a few caverns this way." He pointed to his left. "We set up camp, then I will tell you exactly where you should find our targets from there."

It took them another hour until they reached the camp site Roger had in mind. It was a cavern like any other, but it had a small dead end that was elevated and out of sight of the way through the cavern. It was a big enough spot for a few tents, a camp fire and there even were roots around for firewood. Aaron did not trust the roots after what they had done at the dark drop, but Roger told him he was overthinking it. The cave they set up camp in was empty, only a small stream flowed down a narrow tunnel in one direction giving them a source of water. Even Aaron could not see the light of the camp site when he walked further into the cave. Two sharp bends of the cave to reach the camp site ensured that. The only caveat was that it was a known camp site. Used before by groups and marked on maps.

"Its fine, there are hundreds of decent camp sites on the fourth floor and you rarely meet another group here. There is just too much space, too many paths through this floor and we are very much in the middle of nowhere." Roger said. Aaron shrugged. He would hear anyone coming for them either way. Or smell them if they had fought their way here. Once everything was set up Roger told him exactly where to find the group from the 52nd floor.

"So, can you remember all that?" He asked when he finished.

"Yeah, should not be a problem. Although it will be more difficult in the absolute dark."

"You plan to move in the darkness?" Roger asked a bit surprised.

"Oh absolutely. If I meet a darkstalker I know I can kill it now. But you told me they are rare."

"They are, but there are also different types of darkstalkers. So be careful." Roger hesitated for a moment and then asked.

"Whats your plan?"

Aaron shrugged.

"First, I will scout their camp, see if they really are where you say they are and then I will plan how to isolate and abduct them. I have done this kind of work before, just not in a dark cave filled with monsters."

"Scouting is a good idea. We will be set up to hold a group of 8 once you return. Gotta see what we can do with the supplies we have. You will take their spirits though, right?"

Aaron nodded and Roger hmmed and looked at the cave lit up by glowstones, before he pointed up to the ceiling.

"We could string them up there on ropes. But if they are just normal people, then a simple rope hammered at the back of the cave might be enough."

"I am sure you figure something out." Aaron said and turned towards the camps exit.

"Good luck." Shia called after him, still struggling with her tent, before Mortimer gave her a hand with a sigh. They all waved and Aaron left the camp behind him and vanished into the darkness. Roger looked after him for a long moment, before he turned to Stab.

"What would you do?"

The old man shrugged.

"I would not go in the dark, but scouting, isolating and capturing is the right idea." he finally said.

Rogger nodded to himself and went to set up a makeshift prison at the end of the camp.

Myria Skelos concentrated as her blade cut through the air. The movement of her longsword was aided by her skills, but like her instructors had always told her, true mastery can't be learned through a skill. It had to be perfected through arduous training over years. At first when she had started with a blade it had seemed like such a waste of time, learning to fight without being a Vessel. But now that she actually was a vessel she understood why their instructors had put such an emphasis on mastering their weapons first. If you already had the perfect form, had trained and fought in such form, the skills that aided you did not just improve your form. They improved your speed, your accuracy and your strength instead. All things she could not get enough of as a warrior, especially if it could be gained through training. Many vessels stopped training and relied upon the fact that their skills would ensure their form was perfect, their stance correct and their strikes fluid. But they would never stand a chance against someone who never stopped training the basics, against someone who had fought a hundred battles nay a thousand battles.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Back in the academy they had a guest master, who was a champion. Someone who had climbed all the way to the 50th floor on their own strength. Anyone who managed to cross the gap without being part of an expedition was called a champion and they deserved their title. She had seen the man fight against the instructors of the academy. Vessels with higher levels and higher stats, with better and more optimized builds had fought against the Champion. They had all been defeated and it had not been close.

Myria admired champions and when she had been young she had wished for nothing more than become one herself. But when she had actually met a champion the man had dispelled any illusions she had. She could still hear the man's word ring in her ears as he talked to her class.

"I am a champion." the man had said with a sad chuckle. "I have fought my way up to the 50th floor, but I have not done it on my own. We were 50 when we set out from Climbers Rest, which is on the 20th floor. We were seven when we reached the 50th floor. My friends, my comrades. They all died. We made it in the end. We made it, but more than 40 of my friends died. They were in no way weaker than I am, they were not less determined or equipped. They were just unlucky. The only thing I did was being lucky enough to survive." the man had stared at them with that stare that made you question everything in your life. He looked through them, looked past them all into his own past. Then he looked Myria in the eyes.

"So learn how to beat the Tower, don't be a fool like me and bet your lives on luck."

And Myria did just that. She learned how to beat the Tower. She was eight years old when she joined the Climbing Course of the Academy. Her parents had tried to dissuade her, tried to tell her it was too dangerous. Told her she was being selfish. How would they feel if she died? But Myria had good reasons to do this. She had not only seen champions who were the strongest Climbers, she had also seen and felt the wrath of Vessels who had gotten their power through other means. Her father was a printer. He made books, printed them with tiny metal stamps on paper. Myria remembered it like it was yesterday. Sitting in his workshop and putting the little letters into the big machine, helping him set everything up. She had loved that workshop, the smell of paper and ink and they had made good money printing books.

Then one day the guard came by and confiscated everything they owned. On suspicion of conspiracy with the 51st floor, because father had printed poems a noble had written 300 years ago. It was all bullshit, but the guards were all Vessels and none of her family were. They were the law and in the eyes of the law normal people were worth very little. Myria had heard her father fight with mother about paying them for protection, but in the end they could not afford it and ended up with nothing. Myria luckily had already enrolled in the academy at the time and had learned from that day that unless you were a Vessel, you were worth nothing in the Republic.

So she trained to become a Climber, learned about the tower, was tested for aptitude and became a warrior candidate. She was good with a blade, very good. When she was finally tested for aptitude to become a Vessel when she was 10 years old she found out she had talent. A day later she had joined the real Climbers lessons. She, unlike many others, lived the dream any young boy or girl in the Republic of the 52nd floor had. To become a Vessel. That fact had changed her families entire fortune, had allowed them to regain their workshop, to open another business. She knew her parents hated that she would have to risk her life, but they were also grateful for the status it gave them.

When they had finally started their journey at 15 and had appeared on the first floor they had all known what to do. Myria was their leader, she had command and they had to obey. It was because she had the best grades, had been able to convince her team to work together even though they came from very different backgrounds and ways of life. But it was difficult. They all knew each other for years, had trained for this for years and now when they had to do this, it was harder than they had ever imagined.

She thought she had done a good job, but after what had happened with the group from the 51st floor… Orlean had gone crazy. Had attacked them with a grenade. She knew why, she had heard he had lost his mother to the nobles. But attacking people while climbing was akin to a declaration of war. She had strict orders not to do that. On pain of death. Luckily Orlean had missed with the grenade but the explosion had attracted a whole swarm of monsters to the 51st groups position. It had given her time to drag Orlean back and flee to the fourth floor. The ensuing fight she had with Orlean had been terrible. He had called her a coward, a noble sympathizer, a traitor for holding him back. She had threatened to kill him if he ever did anything like that again. If he ever disobeyed a direct order ever again. Not that she would actually do that to him and maybe Orlean knew that. Still she was sure she would be punished for his lapse in judgment once they were back home. Dammit, she was friends with Orlean and the boy could be great fun, even if he was an entitled little shit, who still acted like he was the richest and most influential person in the tower.

So her training was stiff, her thoughts occupied and their schedule, their tightly planned and perfect plan, interrupted because they needed that grenade Orlean had wasted and now they were scrambling to fix his mistake.

Myria sighed exasperated and wiped the sweat off her brows when Trisk, a small boy with his signature crossbow strapped to his back came over to her. He looked sheepish and she gave him an annoyed look.

"What's up Trisk?"

"Heyyy, Myria, my bestie." he started and she gave him a death glare.

"What did you do?"

"Me? Why me? No, I did good. Here look." he pulled a round metallic casing out of the pouch on his belt and showed it to her.

"I finished crafting the shells yesterday evening. Even managed to make one more since...you know." Trisk gave her a small smile. Myria ground her teeth at the memory, but that had not been Trisks fault. So she frowned and asked:

"Then what is the problem?"

"Thing is, Ketris is also finished with the igniters, but he did not get Orlean's powder yet to finish the grenades. Sooo...we thought you could go ask him for it, oh glorious captain of ours?"

Myria groaned and Trisk chuckled embarrassed.

"Fuck I don't want to. Orlean will just say no and then I will have to beg or threaten him." Myria complained.

"You are very good at both."

Myria glared at him.

"Good at threatening, not begging, totally not begging." Trisk quickly corrected himself. Myria sighed.

"Fine, I'll do it. That is what I get for taking the job. Managing stupid idiots like Orlean Kresin."

"Also glory and the eternal gratitude of the whole Republic." Trisk added and Myria scoffed, but she had to smile. Trisk was always there for her, with a joke, or a snide comment. But he never meant any harm. He was just objectively funny most of the time, even if it was at her expense. So Myria straightened, sheathed her blade and wiped her face down, before she walked over in Orlean's direction.

"Good luck." Trisk called after her and Myria grunted annoyed in response. When she got to Orlean's tent it was empty, that he had a tent for himself in the first place was because he was the groups only alchemist and had told them that he "needed the space" for his craft. In the end it had been easier to carry one more tent, than to have Orlean bitch every 5 minutes. It was also much easier on whoever was supposed to bunk with him. Myria straightened and stepped around the tent and spotted Orlean instantly. She expected him to concoct some strange things in his mortar and pestle, but he was not working. Of course not, it wasn't like all of this was his damn fault. But she did not want to fight with him him or threaten him, not yet at least. So she put a smile on her face and puffed out her bust a bit before she stepped closer to him.

"Kresin, are the explosives done yet?" she said in her sweetest voice.

Orlean was lounging on a rock like it was a cushion. The entitled little shit that knew nothing of the consequences of his actions idled his time away like a young noble himself. Not that she would say that to him unless he really pissed her off. Honestly Myria was close to that, but she held back. She wanted to work with him, not fight with him she reminded herself. Orlean barely deigned her with a look and then took a long slow sip out of a canteen, pointedly ignoring her. Myria's hand twitched and she had to force herself not to slap him silly for the disrespect, the gall to do that to her. She had to remind herself that this boy was her friend and that he had lost his mother and his family most of their wealth to the 51st floor. They were still leagues better off than her family. But that was just her own envy talking. Honestly she understood the hatred of the 51st floor. She had seen her own share of people that had been hurt by their raids. But they were on a timer here. Her group was expected in Climber's Rest in less than a year. So she had to make this work. The silence stretched between them and Myria gave in and continued talking, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Orlean, come on, you won't let us wait any longer, right?" she said much more cheerful and upbeat than she felt.

"One could get the impression you failed crafting…" she said putting him on the spot. If there was anything that Orlean hated more than the 51st floor than it was to be seen as a failure. Orlean stiffened and stared at her like she had just cursed his family.

"Of course I did not fail. How could I? I am the most talented alchemist the house Kresin has seen in many generations." he said pompously.

Myria raised her eyebrows and looked back unafraid. He could bluster all he wanted, but he needed to get his work done. She hated this, hated to fight with her teammates and reflected that if she had not been their friend, had not grown up with them, she might have earned their respect. Maybe they would obey more her if she acted more like a Captain. But they were her friends. They obeyed her when it counted, in combat. Or they had at least, until Orlean had gone rogue. And by the looks of it he was not sorry. He was acting as if they had not fought at all, as if he had done nothing wrong and that annoyed her, a lot. Although she supposed her friendly tone had probably lead to him ignoring their fight. Damned if you do and damned if you don't, she thought to herself.

"The red dawn bombs will be ready in a few hours, do not worry. We will keep to the schedule." He said after Myria kept staring at him.

"Great, I knew I could count on you." Myria said with a false smile. He had even given the simple grenades he manufactured only a third of the ingredients for a silly name. They had gotten the templates for the grenades a year before they had left and Orlean had made the alchemical explosive before he had even gotten his alchemist class. She knew that. That he was dragging his feet now was pure stubborn pride at best and malicious sabotage at worst.

"We will do the first run in a few hours, Trisk and Ketris have finished their parts already, so please hurry up." she could not help but say, her annoyance bleeding through.

Orlean sat up and glared at her balefully.

"The bombs. Will. be. Ready." he said slowly and with clenched teeth, spitting out each word like a curse.

"Is that how you talk to your captain, Kresin?" Myria said back hotly. Her temper rising.

"Captain? Captain?! A fine Captain you are. Running away from the enemy, letting them live after we had them at our mercy." Orlean growled in anger.

Myria wanted to break his little neck. She wanted to rage, she wanted to smack him around a bit. She took a step closer and was directly in front of him, towering over him. Myria was a full head taller than the boy and she knew that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

"I have let your disobedience and bullshit go, because we were scrambling to make up for your mistake."

"My mistake?!" he shouted and stood up to glare up at her. Standing did not make the height difference much better.

"Your mistake. The grenade was needed. We have spent the last two weeks trying to create another one with resources we do not have and can't get on the fourth floor."

"Oh fuck off, the grenade again? There are dozens of materials from which you can make better explosives on the fourth floor, but you would know that if you were an actual captain and not a whore who slept her way to captain and is now way over her head!"

"What did you just call me?" Myria said very quietly and Orlean paused in his furious rant.

"First of all, we have made another type of grenade exactly because you wasted that one. A type of grenade we should not use until the third run, as you very well fucking know." Myria said quietly and only to the end she let her voice and her anger go as she screamed at him.

"And if you ever call me a whore again, I will cut your…"

"Woah, woah there captain." Trisk stumbled into her arms, pushing her hand away from her blade. Behind him stood the rest of their team. Clothilde looked as always amused and perfectly groomed even in this cave stinking of sulfur. Next to her stood their combat medic Miran, with his gentle eyes and a disapproving look. He did not like it when anyone fought in the group. Even Ketris in his ink stained robe was looking out of his tent at the commotion. Myria flushed in embarrassment and straightened, while she pushed Trisk off her. Kintres stepped next to Orlean with a glower, his warhammer on his belt. Orlean looked pale and swallowed hard when he realized how badly he had fucked up.

"Myria, Orlean is an idiot." Trisk started and Orlean made a noise of protest that died in his throat when Kintres grabbed his shoulder hard enough to make the boy wince.

"He went too far, he knows that. Lets all calm down. I am sure there is no reason for violence."

Myria took a deep breath and nodded. She had gotten carried away. This did not help anything. What was done was done. She turned to Orlean, but she talked to the entire group.

"I know we have been busy. There were mistakes that we needed to have solutions for. But what is done, is done. We have to look to the future. We can still make it, we can follow our route. We know how to, we just need to do it." Myria said and then looked Orlean in the eyes.

"Once we are back home Orlean I won't be your captain anymore. Do you know why?" Orlean shook his head.

"Because they will demote me for what you have done. Attacking someone from the 51st floor is a capital offense and if you had killed anyone with that grenade they would not just strip me of my rank, they would execute me and you and then they would publicly shame both of our families so that they would be social pariahs for decades to come."

Orlean looked sick now, actually sick and he swallowed hard.

"You...you can't know that."

"Yes I can, you know that too. We both know the army regulations by heart." Myria said harshly.

"I thought you would realize your mistake, thought you would make up for it and not blame anyone but yourself."

"But…"

"No buts! Do you think I like the 51st floor?! Don't you think I want to kill them just as much as you do? I have seen what they do during raids. But I am a soldier. An officer of the Republic and it is my duty to bring all of you to the 20th floor. So I will forget what you called me and I will try to make up for your mistakes. We all will. Because we are a team."

Myaria turned around and looked at the assembled group.

"We can do this. I know we can. Tomorrow after a good nights rest we will detonate the bombs and then move on to the next step. We have time and I know you can do this, together."

"Well said Captain." Trisk said, but there were nods from all around. Only Kintres was whispering something to Orlean, after which the boy looked even worse. But he stayed quiet.

"And besides if anyone gets the blame for any mishaps on our climb it will be me." Clothilde said with a smirk.

"My last name means I am the source of all evil."

The group chuckled at that. Clothide de Hagr was a descendant from nobles who had ruled the 52nd floor and had sided with the Republican Rebels when they liberated the floor from the nobility. It should have made her family heroes and officially they were. But in reality her last name meant she faced the strictest scrutiny and would be blamed for anything going wrong if she was just in the vicinity. The Republic did not like nobles getting powers, no matter on which side they had stood before. There was always the silent accusation that they had concealed knowledge from the Republic. That they knew of classes the nobility traditionally had kept to themselves. Myria was pretty sure Clothilde would be fine, but there was a chance she would suffer for this just like she would. That comment made Orlean look even more miserable and he looked like he was about to cry.

"Lets finish our tasks and then set off the bombs after breakfast." Myria said and the group dispersed. Orlean quickly vanished in his tent and it did not even take a minute until she could smell the acrid scent of alchemicals waft out of there. Myria looked around and caught Kintres as he walked past her.

"Did you see Koris?"

Kintres shook his head and looked around, before he said.

"Its his guard shift, I came over to have a look what the shouting was about."

Myria stiffened.

"Sorry about that."

"Nah, you were right. Orlean is an ass. But I can understand it. The thing he called you...it will not happen again, Captain." Kentris assured him.

"Right, just don't beat him up anything. He needs to craft a lot of explosives in the next few weeks."

Kintress chuckled at that.

"No worries, he will be fine. If he keeps his mouth shut."

"Thanks Kintres, but I can take care of myself."

"I know that, you beat me in sparring every time. If I did not have [Iron Skin] I would look like some sort of toad, all black and blue." He said grinning. "But it bothered me more than it bothered you probably. So don't worry about it."

Myria nodded to him and walked back to her tent to review the plan. She, like them all, had memorized the exact locations they had to use the grenades on and in the exact time. But it made her feel better to review it. She settled down on her sleeping roll and got a small book out of the filling of warm feathers inside of her pillow. In the book were dates and single words that acted as a sort of anchor for her memory. Nothing this important could be written down entirely. But she could make herself this calendar to remember things. It was the first thing she had done when she had come down here to the bottom of the tower. She was just double checking her notes, when Kintres came into her tent almost in a run.

"Myria. Koris is gone." he said out of breath and Myria felt her heart sink. She stood up and grabbed her sword belt with a single movement, before she stepped out of the tent.

"What do you mean by, gone?"

"His lamp is smashed and there is no trace of him." Kintres said with obvious distress. Myria closed the sword belt around her hips and together they hurried out of their camp towards the spot they had chosen to guard the cave they had set up in. It was a high spot overlooking the only narrow entrance into the cave. Behind them in the distance the cave glowed in a deep crimson from the lava pit. Glowstones were spread out over a narrow ledge that overlooked the entrance dozens of feet below them. Each of them on guard duty carried also a glowstone lamp that could be regulated to the desired light output. When they got to the guard post Kentris knelt down and showed her the lamp.

The lamp was smashed by something and glowstones had rolled down the cliff towards the nearby cave entrance and the tunnel shrouded in darkness. It was quiet and Myria looked around with a deep frown.

"Koris?" She called into the silence and got no answer. Kentris checked the vicinity, his warhammer in hand and Myria had her hand on her blade. She could not help but feel something was looking at her in the darkness of the tunnel. But that was unlikely. She knew this floor. Knew its secrets. Knew how to deal with darkstalkers. Maybe Koris had just taken a leak while Kentirs was looking for the source of the yelling? No, that was not like the spearmaster at all. Kentris knelt down at the ledge and peered over it. He let out a sound of surprise and Myria stepped forward.

"What is it?"

"Look, that is Koris halberd, isn't it?" Kentris said and pointed to a dimly lit glittering shape in the twilight underneath them.

Myria narrowed her eyes and then saw it as well. She drew her blade silently and stared into the darkness.

"Lets go back to the others and arm ourselves, then we will search for him." Myria ordered and Kentris fell in next to her like they had trained for hundreds of times. Soon the whole camp was in uproar, they formed up as a group in their full battle regalia and then moved out to the halberd.

But no matter how they searched, Koris was gone.

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