"I'm tired of boar meat!"

Enya's voice came over the crackling of the fires and the tweets of the surrounding birds.

The group was now traveling along the forest path. After they left Darsmouth, their sense of direction was lost. Luckily, someone was selling a compass on the marketplace for Pell to purchase with his skill. If his memory served correctly, they'd reach Eiyuria by heading east.

Enya sat on a small log, cheeks puffed, arms crossed tight across her chest. Her legs were stretched, heels on the ground.

Across from her, Pell groaned as he held the stick of cooked boar meat in his bony hand. "Stop being so spoiled. I had to kill and gut this thing myself. That's a lot of hard work you know. Draining the blood, cutting the correct pieces; it's not exactly easy to do this."

"It tastes bad!"

Pell scowled. He couldn't tell if she was saying the meat tasted bad, or if his cooking tasted bad. He wasn't a chef by any means, but it couldn't have been that terrible. It wasn't a luxury steak with fancy seasonings or garnishes, but it was edible.

Probably.

"It's food, you brat. I even cooked it medium-well for you so that you don't get sick. And newsflash, you need food to live," Pell chided. "Unless you'd rather eat some random wild berries that may or may not be poisonous."

Enya turned to face him with a frown on her face. "Boar is all I've eaten for six days! Six! Only one time did I get to eat something different—and that also tasted bad."

Pell set the stick back in the ground to continue roasting over the campfire. He looked at her, and then at the thing sitting at the opposite end of her log.

"Yeah. I could've told you that."

Enya turned to face her new summon that was currently grooming itself. It was something she wanted to raise, but her anatomical knowledge wasn't on-par with this type of creature yet.

Also, she had accidentally named it while panicking.

Name: What? I don't want to name this thing! It looks so ugly! System! Make it look better! What? No! I don't want to confirm. Level: 24 Type: Rabbit Skeleton Class: Unassigned Power Rating: 301

"Kid, that thing is an abomination."

The bony bunny-rabbit sat in front of them, mimicking self-grooming even though it didn't have a tongue. One of its oversized ears twitched—a femur jutting awkwardly from its skull. Its tiny human-like hands pressed against the wood, and worst of all, its bushy round tail was… another skull.

The thing had two skulls.

"I didn't even want to name it," Enya muttered. She had originally thought rabbits had big bones in their ears, and that their fluffy tails were just some rounded bone—so she'd placed a skull there. It was only after finishing that Pell told her that was not the case. This only happened because the bones were misplaced as they tried to cook the thing. It would have been perfect if the skeleton was intact.

"That thing's creepier than the teddy bear we got rid of. And that's saying something," Pell said flatly.

"Agreed," came a chittering voice. Elria climbed on top of a nearby log, her new crystal-spiderling body clicking as her legs dug into the wood for balance. "That thing watches me when I sleep. If I'm not careful, it might even try to eat me."

"The thing doesn't even have flesh," Pell replied. "You'd just fall through its ribcage and crawl out the other side."

"You know," Elria said, "that actually sounds extremely distressing if you think about it."

Pell's soul-flames rolled. He picked up the stick from the fire, the meat cooked to a crisp brown, and held it out toward Enya. "Eat."

"No."

"Kid."

She turned away stubbornly. "No. I want cheesecake."

Elria jumped from the log to perch on top of Enya's head, her crystal legs clicking together. "Ooh, me too! I'll take strawberry if you have any."

Pell groaned, tossing the stick back into the fire. The meat sizzled, burning to a crisp. "Do I look like a pâtissier?"

"What's a 'patsier'?" Enya asked.

"It means grumpy skeleton," Elria said quickly.

"Then yes. You are a pat-man," Enya declared.

"You two realize," Pell said, pointing at them both, "that even though I have access to the marketplace, nobody sells desserts. The only people who make that stuff are vendors in towns, and even then, it costs a fortune." He looked up at Elria. "And you—you're a spider. You can't even eat, so stop enabling her."

Elria crossed two of her front legs like folded arms. "Hmph!"

Pell sighed. "What kind of adventuring party is this…"

Enya continued to pout, clearly determined to starve until a flying cheesecake monster appeared so she could turn it into a dessert skeleton.

Then—her body twitched. She froze. Her ears perked as her senses sharpened.

Something was moving.

She turned toward the sound at the same moment Pell did, the connection between them humming through their link.

"Pell," Enya whispered.

"On it."

Not a second later, the trees split apart as a forest troll lumbered into view. It was massive—just a little shorter than Numbskull had been when he was still an ogre skeleton. But this one was bulkier, its moss-covered skin a deep, earthy green.

Pell's black, gleaming Harvester Scythe materialized in his hand. Without hesitation, he hurled it forward—end over end through the air—straight at the monster.

The troll's eyes widened, catching the flash of dark metal, but it couldn't react in time.

The scythe tore clean through its side, cutting a deep line across its stomach. It didn't cleave it in half, but it came close. The troll roared in agony, stumbling forward as its wound split from rib to gut. It crashed down hard on one knee, then toppled face-first into the dirt.

Pell dispelled the scythe before it could finish its arc, rematerializing it back into his grip. He threw it again immediately. This time, the blade struck true. The curved edge buried itself deep into the troll's skull, driving down into the earth and pinning the creature in place.

A sharp ping echoed in Enya's head.

Name: Enya Empyria Current Level: 24

System Notification: You have landed a killing blow on the following creatures: Forest Troll (Level 20). You have received 868 EXP. Experience Remaining Until Next Level: 4701/9814

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Pell willed the Harvester away. The weapon dissolved into mist as the troll's gurgling breath finally went still.

"So many damn monsters in this place," he muttered. "I don't remember it being this infested."

"You don't even have a brain," Elria said from Enya's shoulder, voice laced with mock curiosity. "I'm honestly impressed you remember anything at all."

Pell turned his head, sockets narrowing. "Says the one who's literally a bug. And even if you did have a brain, I'm sure it'd be smaller than the one in that spider body of yours."

Elria hissed, her crystal fangs clicking against her own carapace.

"Pell?" Enya cut in, ignoring them. "How often should I be using my skill points?"

Pell froze. "Skill points? Wait—you haven't been using them?"

She shook her head, nearly sending Elria tumbling off her head.

"Hey! Watch it!" Elria snapped, gripping Enya's hair for balance.

"Sorry," Enya said sheepishly. "And no, I haven't. I just don't really know what to use them on. You said before they're important and I should use them… uh, sparingly?"

"What's a skill point?" Elria asked, genuinely curious.

"It's something only the purest of souls get," Pell said with mock pride. "Like me and her."

Elria hissed again. "Please. I'm probably the purest one here. The girl literally murdered an innocent rabbit because it looked cute. And you—" she pointed a sharp leg at him "—I don't even need to examine your soul to know it's blacker than tar."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Pell said flatly. He turned back to Enya. "Anyway—yeah, you should save them for important skills. Stuff that's hard to level through practice or that gives you a big boost when you need it. Some people hoard them until the right moment."

He lifted his hand, summoning his spatial inventory. The air shimmered and fractured, light distorting as a black rift opened before him.

Skill: Inventory [Active] [B-] Description: Open a medium-sized personal subspace to store any item. Non-living items can only be stored for 24 hours on entry. [Mana cost: 0 MP]

"My inventory skill leveled up quite a bit after putting all those rare trinkets and artifacts inside it," Pell explained. "I used two of my eleven remaining skill points to expand the space so I could fit everything Felicity gave us. Didn't expect that on the second upgrade, it'd level up by itself. Now it doesn't cost any mana, and I can even store living things inside it."

Enya hummed thoughtfully and opened her own status screen.

Name: Enya Empyria Health: 100/100 Mana: 30/30 Soul-Energy: 509/800 Level: 24/8 Class: Necrosmith Innate Class: Visionary Skills: Bonecarver's Quill [D], Transfiguration of Soul, The Grim Pullet, Absolute Focus, Visions Past, Recast, Mana Detection [D+], Mana Control [D+], Perception [C+], Sage's Insight [B] Spells: Summon Construct [A], Summon Skeleton [C-], Bone Spear, Bone Shift [F-] Titles: High-Noble, Realm Hopper, Apprentice of Terran, Limited Holder

Quite a few things had changed over the past week and a half. Her levels had risen for both her Necrosmith and Visionary classes. She'd gained three levels for her innate class since exiting the painting. Maybe it was because she'd learned the truth about her origins from Nekron—or because she finally understood who Lia really was.

A Visionary saw the truth, after all. It made sense.

Aside from that, several of her skills had improved as well. Her Perception passive was now C+, and her Summon Skeleton spell had risen to C-. She'd also gained a new spell: Summon Construct, her own signature bone-creation magic. It was useful too; her standard Bone Spear had started losing its bite, especially since it wasn't a skill that could evolve.

She currently had six skill points waiting to be spent.

Anything she gained directly from her class could be upgraded by a single tier: skills, spells, and passives. External ones, like Summon Skeleton, which she learned from Sable's books, didn't count. With one point, she could raise Bonecarver's Quill from D to D+. With all six, she could boost it straight to B-. The problem was… she didn't know what benefits that would bring.

"You're still young," Pell said, watching her expression. "You'll get plenty more skills and spells later, especially with your class. If you don't have a use for the points now, you'll find one eventually. But if you ask me, putting some points into your core class skills might be a good idea."

Enya closed her status screen and looked up at him. "How many points do you have? Isn't your Merchant class the same level as mine?"

"Yeah. My main class is level 24—same as yours. That's mostly because I get full experience from monster kills now. My Farmer class, though, that's level 33." He crossed his arms. "I've completed a bunch of class quests, too. Right now, I've got about nine skill points saved up after using two on my inventory."

"Wow…" Enya said, impressed. "Hm… class quests, right? I'm almost done with one."

She flicked her hand, opening a small quest window.

Quest: Use insight on 100 unique targets. Progress: 89/100 Knowledge, truth, and understanding are the essence of a Visionary. To acclimate to your role, use Insight on 100 different (unique) targets.

This should have been an easy quest to do. The problem was, remembering to actually use it. Between fighting for her life, or being bombarded with new information like her origins, remembering the quest wasn't easy. If she was getting surrounded by hundreds of wraiths trying to kill her, why bother trying to use insight? A completed quest meant nothing if she died.

Though, that was her own excuse for forgetting. She forgot that she had the bone shift skill, or that she had mana barrier gloves most of the time, too. She had just simply been too caught up with her minions, that everything else was simply noise.

"You get skills or spells from each quest, right?" Enya asked.

Pell shook his head. "Not always. Sometimes you'll get new abilities, sure—but other times it's buffs, evolutions, or straight-up skill points. Depends on what the quest's tied to."

Elria's crystalline legs clicked together as she adjusted her perch atop Enya's head, the spiderling's gleaming body catching the firelight.

"How fascinating," she said, voice laced with mock admiration. "Being spoon-fed power like that. Quests, rewards, convenient little upgrades—all so effortless."

Pell poked at the fire with his stick, the flames crackling back at him. "You could've had the same thing if you hadn't rejected the system. Didn't you witches all turn your noses up at it? Why?"

Elria tilted her spiderling body, the crystalline plates along her back glimmering faintly. "Because relying on the system means relying on the gods," she said. "And gods—" she lifted a leg like a finger wag "—are not to be trusted."

Enya stiffened at that.

So Elria knows about the gods too?

She crossed two of her legs over the others, like arms folded in disdain. "Rejecting the system frees us from them. No divine contracts. No influence. No little invisible strings telling us what we are or what we're worth. No destined path or goal to be pushed toward. The moment you accept the system, you accept their mark on your soul."

Pell tilted his skull. "Gods? As in, plural?"

"Yes," she said simply. "The system is powered by multiple gods. Each governs different aspects—paths, classes, destinies. You mortals take that power in without question, never realizing that every skill, every blessing ties you closer to its source."

She flicked one leg dismissively. "The more of their power you draw on, the more you start to resemble them, both mind and soul. Your will fades, replaced by something theirs."

Pell gave a low grunt. "So, you believe in class assimilation, too, huh?"

Enya's head perked up immediately. "That's what Celeste talked about! When she… um, kidnapped me."

"That crazed bitch? Hm… she did have a hatred toward necromancers like you. Probably everything that seems evil. If it was because she believed in class assimilation, then I understand why she kidnapped you then," Pell replied."

"Kidnapped?" Elria asked.

"A woman kidnapped me because she thought I would become evil and start killing people," Enya said, eyes trying to look up."

A moment of silence passed.

Elria turned her compound eyes over to Pell. "I think her concerns were warranted."

Pell rolled his soul-flames.

"But anyway," Elria continued.

"Yes. You mortals at least have a name for it. Class assimilation is what happens when divine influence goes too deep. The system changes your body, your thoughts, your instincts; it happens subtly, then permanently. A whisper that ends with you becoming nothing more than a vessel for the god you've tied yourself to."

Pell frowned. "So… what, everyone who levels up too much ends up as some kind of puppet?"

"Not everyone," Elria said. "Most people don't have enough affinity or strength to matter. Their connection fades before it becomes dangerous. But the powerful ones—the prodigies, the blessed, the… 'acolytes'?" She made sure to say that last word very slowly and carefully. "They're the ones who will break first."

She turned her gaze to the fire. "Godsworns are people that worship the gods and try to seek out the chosen. They try to capture them, nurture them, and make them become vessels for the Gods to descend. We witches have seen this happen many times. Witchcraft was actually created in order to use magic without relying on the gods. That's all witchcraft is. Natural magic."

Godsworn… Elria knows a lot. Maybe she even knows about Nekron or Velkyr… Enya thought.

"We witches are simply mages that refuse to be controlled. That's all we are," Elria stated.

"Sounds like a bunch of baloney to me," Pell said flatly. "You're just being paranoid. There are plenty of people out there who are strong as hell and not corrupted or whatever. All the Obsidian-tier War Paragons? Strongest people alive. Don't recall any of them turning into divine puppets. There's even that old paladin on the Third Layer—guy's as normal as they come, far as I know."

Elria's many eyes blinked slowly. "Paranoid? Perhaps." Her back leg tapped lightly against the top of Enya's head, a sharp clack, clack, clack echoing through the quiet. "But paranoia comes from the fear of something real."

Her tone cooled. "There are even groups out there dedicated to eliminating the Godsworn, or killing anyone who gets too close to them. People who hold onto Pyra's flame without ever letting go."

Enya's head tilted. Pyra. She remembered that name. It was something Custodian had mentioned, and that Pell had explained to her. An old story about the woman who climbed a mountain to claim a flame that promised eternal happiness. But the flame had burned through her spell, then through her flesh, consuming her completely.

"You know that folktale too?" Pell asked, his skull tilting in curiosity. "How long were you stuck in that prison?"

"Folktale?" Elria gave a sharp, scraping laugh that rattled through her crystal body. "You underestimate me, merchant. Pyra wasn't some story to read by the bedside to children. She was real."

Her voice softened slightly, almost reverent. "She was one of Felicity's closest friends."

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