Angela watched the instructor as he swung his sword through the glowing image of a giant spider.

  “As you can see, I’m using a horizontal swing from my weak side to my dominant side,” he explained, demonstrating the strike again. “Can anyone tell me why I’m using this specific swing and why I’m not striking a physical target?”

  A youthful voice from behind her spoke.

  “Because it’s the safest way to learn?”

  “That’s correct,” the instructor said with a smile.

  He pointed his sword at two words written on the nearby chalkboard.

  “System Reliance. Using a weapon without a specific skill is a recipe for disaster. This is because increases in System skills work with your body and mind, providing increased levels of competence with a chosen weapon.”

  He held his sword up for everyone to see, and Angela studied the weapon.

  A flared, weighted pommel framed its short grip on one end, while the other had a guard separating the grip from the blade.

  The blade itself was fairly short compared to the others that hung on the racks nearby, and didn’t taper to a point, but swelled in the middle and curved back to provide a wide cutting area.

  “This weapon is an amalgamation of different sword types from around the world, and is classified as a short cutter, and falls under the Short Blades skill.”

  The blade disappeared from his hand, then reappeared, before the instructor slashed through the target multiple times in a dizzying series of strikes.

  He turned back to the class.

  “This distinction in weapon type is extremely important, as by choosing the Short Blades skill allows the wielder to use all similar weapons with a level of expertise.”

  Holding the short cutter in his right hand, a long dagger appeared in his left, and he turned and performed a myriad of strikes, alternating between slashing and stabbing the target.

  He held the dagger up for the class to see.

  “This dagger, called a long dagger…” he grinned at the group.

  “I know. Not a brilliant name…also falls under the Short Blades skill, but has a separate specialization. While it will work with the primary skill, it will not work with the short cutter specialization. Therefore, it is extremely important that you decide on your primary weapon, then work with multiple types of weapons that fall under the skill to determine the best one for you to specialize in.”

  He looked over the class and his eyes fixed on Angela, who sat in the front row.

  “I need a volunteer. Would you come up here please and show the class how to use a short blade?”

  Jumping at the opportunity, she set her notepad aside and hurried over to the instructor.

  He held out an amulet, which glowed with a soft gold light.

  “Please put this on. It’s a training amulet that will provide you the ability to bypass System Reliance and use the weapon without unnecessary risk.”

  Angela took the amulet and draped it around her neck, then pointed at the dagger the instructor held.

  “I’m more familiar with daggers, if that’s okay?”

  He nodded and flipped the dagger over in his hand, presenting the grip to her, which she took.

  “Please strike the target a few times…slowly, please,” the instructor commanded.

  Angela stared at the spider illusion and tried to determine where best to hit it.

  Its many legs made crippling its movement problematic, so she focused on the eyes.

  A straight thrust would put her within reach of its fangs, that seemed to glisten with venom.

  Making her decision, she stepped forward, rotating her body, and reversing her grip. She stabbed out three quick times in succession, aiming at the eyes on the left side of the creature, before stepping back and holding the weapon in a reverse guard.

  The instructor chuckled.

  “Not as slow as I would’ve liked, but you demonstrated a good understanding of taking your opponent’s capabilities into account before attacking.”

  Turning back to the class, he continued.

  “I chose this spider as the target because it’s a creature that everyone here is familiar with, and frankly, I don’t like spiders.”

  He grinned at the group and gestured towards the racks of different weapons.

  “Now tell me, what weapon would you to choose to fight it?”

  Angela looked down at the knife in her hand and smiled. Maybe she could get Forge to get her a new dagger.

  The classes had been much more interesting than she’d expected, and she was kicking herself for not taking him up on his offer when he first presented it to her.

  Carefully taking the dagger by the blade, she handed the long knife, grip first to the instructor, who accepted it with a chuckle, then took back the amulet.

  “You’re a natural at this,” he said with a smile.

  Turning back to the class, he looked for a new volunteer and Angela took her seat.

  She opened her System screen and stared at it. Still grayed out, of course, but the timer showed she only had a little over two years before she reached System age.

  Flipping through her notebook, she reached a page titled Build, and began jotting down some thoughts.

  She was going to be the best Guildy they’d ever seen; she promised herself.

  ***

  Forge held up a mug and joined in the toast.

  The strong ale in the city was completely unlike the weak ale that was served back in Barda.

  At the taverns he visited in the small town, they drank the ale like water, and often, instead of it. Mostly due to not knowing the current state of the water supply.

  He’d been a little concerned that the stronger drinks here would affect his judgement, but had discovered his Burning Blood ability wiped away all traces of alcohol from his system within minutes of drinking it.

  Taking a long pull on his drink, he set it down and laughed along with his team.

  Upon the advice of Poncho, they’d gone to an unofficial Guild tavern this time.

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  The difference was night and day. Guildies sat together at their tables, chatting and laughing, and everyone was on their best behavior.

  His eyes pivoted over to a young Guildy dressed in a tight black shirt, wearing a sash, proclaiming himself to be Guild security.

  Yeah, nobody was going to cause a problem here; he thought.

  While Lioness and Gideon argued about the finer points of swordsmanship, Falcon leaned over to him.

  “I talked with scheduling and got us a Tier One dungeon next week.”

  Forge raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.

  Falcon looked up, then over at Gideon and Lioness, before her gaze returned to Forge.

  “I know we thought we couldn’t get another dungeon on such short notice, but I had a chat with them, and they told me one was available.”

  “Seems fortuitous that they had something available so quickly,” Forge replied, watching the ranger closely.

  She returned his stare and shrugged. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t mention you, the guildmaster, or anyone else. I simply asked, and they offered it.”

  She sat back in her chair and grinned at him.

  “I also found out that there are tons of requests from people trying to reach you.”

  Taken aback, Forge wondered what ‘tons’ meant in this context.

  “Job offers?” he asked.

  Shaking her head and grinning wider, she downed the rest of her ale.

  “Marriage proposals. Dining requests. Offers to avail yourself of their hospitality. You know, famous-guy stuff,”

  Forge reached over, taking her mug and placing it out of her reach.

  “Last I checked, I’m a Rank One Guildy on a team that hasn’t completed a job. What would they want with me?”

  Falcon snorted, then reached over and grabbed Lioness’s mug, and took a long sip.

  Forge glanced at the cleric, but she was only paying attention to her argument with Gideon.

  “Are they planning on marrying me, then getting the benefits from the Guild when I die?”

  Falcon’s face sobered, and she leaned back in.

  “I know what people say about paladins, and you can forget that stuff. We’re a team, and providing you don’t go running off without us, it will always be us verse everyone else.”

  “See, Cinder. I told you our team was the best,” he sent the sleeping dragon.

  Falcon’s smile returned. “Everyone knows that when a paladin shows up, big things happen. You’re like magnets affecting probability.”

  She gestured at her and the others at the table.

  “We all walk the Path of Magic. An entire team! Do you know how rare that is?”

  About to respond, a scream from behind him drew his attention.

  Forge leaped to his feet and stared at the man being held back by Dirk.

  Nothing stood out about the struggling man in the ranger’s grip, but the loud crack of a bone breaking and something hitting the floor drew his attention downward.

  A blade lay on the ground, dropped from nerveless fingers.

  With a thought, Forge’s armor covered him, and he touched the dagger with a gauntleted hand, storing the blade safely in his ring.

  Gideon’s face had gone red as he glared at the man, hand resting on his sword.

  The attack had happened so fast, people sitting around them were just now taking notice of the situation.

  Three men in the black shirts of security stepped in close, and with their backs to the party, told everyone to give them some space.

  “Still think marrying me is a good idea for some civilian looking to be famous?” Forge asked Falcon.

  The ranger, who was eyeing the crowd, looking for anyone that seemed out of place, spoke over her shoulder.

  “Yes. But I like weddings.”

  Summoning his mace to his hand, Forge studied the man. Then it clicked. He’d seen him before.

  Holding the mace at his side, Forge placed his mirrored face directly in front of the Guildy.

  “I’ve seen you in the Guild cafeteria. Why would a member of the Guild try to stab me?”

  The man’s panicked eyes roamed the room.

  “Your party already left. My team picked them up at the door and are taking them in for questioning,” Dirk said, one arm around the man’s neck, and the other gripping the attacker’s broken wrist.

  The man closed his eyes and visibly calmed down, then tried to smile.

  “It was just a little hazing. They have a cleric, after all. It’s not like he was going to die.”

  “Truth,” Forge said.

  Dirk’s thumb touched the side of the man’s neck, and he went limp. The ranger tossed the man over his shoulder and made his way out the door, and Forge and his party followed.

  Outside, three others kneeled on the ground with their hands behind their heads, as four men in dark leather armor watched over them.

  Forge heard the door close behind him, separating him from his team.

  He turned back to see Dirk drop the man he was carrying to the ground before gesturing to the armored men.

  “What did they have to say?”

  One turned and gave Dirk a formal Guild salute.

  “Apparently, this little group likes to haze the Rank Ones and setup a pecking order.”

  Dirk nodded his head and scowled at the three young Guildies.

  “It looks like Jackal’s been asleep at the wheel, if these are the sort of adventurers he’s accepting.”

  The largest of the prisoners looked up at Dirk and grinned.

  “This isn’t the temple. We only need the strongest in the Guild, and we make sure that anyone not cut out for the life knows it.”

  Dirk looked at the man, his smoked lensed glasses making him look like some kind of demon. He turned to the other two.

  “And you two? Do you agree with your teammates?”

  The man laughed, and the two Guildies shook their heads.

  “We hate it, but we’re stuck with them,” one said, and the other agreed.

  “Truth,” Forge said.

  Dirk turned to him. “What do you think? Think these two can be salvaged?”

  Forge looked at the two Guildies. Obviously scared, but still maintaining the inner strength that drove adventurers.

  “I do,” he said.

  Dirk stared at him for a long moment, then grinned.

  “Good. Me too.”

  He turned back to the two adventurers. “Please pay attention.”

  A ring of glowing skeleton keys appeared in Dirk’s hand, and he shuffled through them until he found the one he wanted.

  He turned the unconscious man on the ground over and touched a key to his forehead.

  “I, Guildmaster Dirk, find you guilty of breaking your oath to the Guild.”

  A flash of green light sparked from the glowing key, then a red symbol appeared on the man’s head before disappearing.

  He moved towards the large man, whose eyes had gone wide.

  “What are you doing!? You can’t kick me out of the Guild for this!” he yelled as he attempted to get to his feet.

  Two of the guards easily restrained him, and Dirk performed the same ritual.

  As the red symbol faded away from the man’s forehead, the man glared at Dirk.

  “What was that!? What did you do!?”

  The ring of keys disappeared from Dirk’s hand, and he watched the man as he struggled against the two guards.

  “I see you’ve already opened a mana-gate, but I’m afraid your days of cultivation are over. I’ve locked down your mana-gates, and you’ll no longer be able to open them.”

  Dirk turned to Forge.

  “Before the oath, those that broke the rules of the Guild were exiled or just killed outright.”

  He shrugged.

  “A barbaric practice to be sure, since exiling someone from the Guild meant they couldn’t even enter a city or town that had a Guildhall.”

  Turning back to the Guildy, he waved the two guards away from him.

  “Now he has a choice. He can perform penance and prove himself worthy once again, or just live with it,” Dirk said.

  Forge watched the man, who still glared at Dirk, but was listening intently.

  “What sort of penance?” Forge asked.

  Dirk shrugged. “Who am I to judge that justice has been done? We leave that decision to others.”

  Forge turned to the rogue.

  “The Temple of Honos?”

  Dirk’s expression was serious as he stared at the angry, now ex-Guildy.

  “No. It takes a monster to judge another monster.”

  The man at Dirk’s feet began to wake, and Forge bent down and touched him, using his magic healing to fix the broken wrist.

  It slammed back into place, and the man came fully awake, gripping his now healed hand.

  He stared at it, then up at Forge.

  “Thanks…” His voice trailed off as he read his System messages.

  The man paled and turned to his team.

  He saw the angry face of his large teammate, and the pity on the faces of the other two.

  “How do I fix this? How do I rejoin and become whole?”

  Dirk crouched by the man, but spoke loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Go south to the city of Alvin. Tell them you seek penance, and they will guide you.”

  The man’s eyed widened even further, but he nodded his head in understanding.

  However, the large man snorted his disdain.

  “Going south is suicide. And no monster is judging me.”

  He took a threatening step towards Dirk, who remained crouched, watching the man.

  Stopping. He sneered at his two ex-teammates, then turned to leave.

  Forge sighed. “How often does this happen?”

  Dirk’s face remained impassive as he stood.

  “Less than you’d think, but more than I’d like. There are always those that get a little strength and think that entitles them to hurt those weaker than themselves.”

  Forge nodded. “I’ve seen it in the Kingdom Guard.”

  The man at their feet watched as the other ousted Guildy walked down the street, muttering under his breath.

  He stood and made to give a salute, but Dirk stopped him.

  “That’s not appropriate anymore.”

  “I’m…” the man started, but was again stopped by the rogue.

  “I don’t want to know your name.”

  The man turned to the other two members of his team, but their hard expressions told him their thoughts on the matter.

  “Go to the south. Prove yourself worthy of a name I’d be willing to remember,” Dirk said softly.

  The man turned and walked in the opposite direction of his teammate, and Dirk shook his head.

  “That one may do it.”

  “What will happen to him if he goes south?” Forge asked.

  The rogue shrugged. “He’ll either die or be reborn.”

  Dirk tilted his head as if listening to something only he could hear.

  “It looks like our large friend found the town guard,” he laughed.

  “How are you tracking him?” Forge asked.

  Dirk waved the question away and focused on the two remaining Guildies.

  “Shouldn’t you two be heading to the Guild to have your status updated and a new team assigned?”

  The pair of adventurers had been standing nearby and listening intently, but at Dirk’s words, they quickly saluted and jogged away back towards the Guild.

  Dirk nodded at the four men, who quickly disappeared between the buildings, then walked over to the door and removed a runic plate.

  After a moment, the door opened, and the rest of Forge’s party joined them.

  “I’ll leave you to it then,” Dirk said as he crouched and moved slowly away.

  Forge watched in confusion for a moment, then remembered his mask could see through whatever illusion the rogue had used to hide his escape.

  His friends looked at him with various expressions ranging from angry to curious, and he sighed.

  “This is going to require more drinks,” he muttered.