On our way to the Gate, I took out the wooden ring I’d gotten from the dungeon and slipped it on my finger. I checked my profile but didn’t see any ge.

  “The ring’s description says +2% stitution, but I don’t see anything different in my profile,” I mentioo Lis, gng over at him.

  He turo me with an assessing look. “What is your stitution at?”

  “Forty-six.”

  “Two pert of that is 0.9,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. “It won’t appear on your personal information until it rounds up to a full point.”

  “Well, that doesn’t seem like much of a dungeon reward,” I said, frowning at the ring.

  “It isn’t,” he admitted with a nod. “As I mentioned earlier, it was a very young dungeon. The rewards improve as the dungeon matures.”

  “What ts as a good reward?”

  “A signifit amount of gold or valuable magical items.”

  “Such as?” I pressed.

  “Jewelry with rge ste capacities, ented ons, uions, affinity stones, advanced spell scrolls, Magitech schematics—practical and powerful things.”

  “Now, that does sound nice,” I agreed.

  “It is,” he said with a faint smile of his own. “If you e across a dungeon like that, don’t colpse it right away. Let it regee and run it as often as possible without prematurely taking the core or resources. When you’ve reached the maximum number of runs, they it. And only take the core if you absolutely . Sometimes, selling the location is far more profitable.”

  “Maximum number of runs?” I asked.

  “There’s a limit to how many times a specifigeon be run,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with the weariness of a seasoeacher repeating a well-known fact. “The number varies, and no one knows why. It could be as few as three or as many as a hundred—or even more.”

  “So, what should I do with this ring?”

  “Sell it to a front-line fighter,” he advised. “Their primary trait is stitution, so they’ll find it far more valuable than you will.”

  “Thanks,” I said, tug the ring away.

  He nodded, and we tio the Gate. Oher side, we checked the time and saw that twenty days had passed, so the five-day jump was sistent.

  We called Lyura to pick us up and waited by the road. She arrived and took us to the four-bedroom apartment she’d found in the ter of Rovaniemi. We stayed there for a week to rest, and because I was voluntold to cook a lot of the bear and snake meat.

  After that week, we took a train from Rovao Lule? in Swedeoured the city a bit before taking arain to G?llivare. After a quick look around G?llivare, we rented a car and drove three hours to the Gate.

  Travelers Gate #54816825Destination: AsgardStatus: IedMana level: 76Threat level: Lethal

  When I touched the gate, I couldn’t help but excim, “Seriously?! It’s real?!”

  The three of them turo me at the exaent, like synized swimmers in a pool of fusion, their faces all with the same baffled expression.

  “There are legends and movies about this pce,” I expined, waving a hand toward the Gate.

  Lis houghtfully. “It makes sense.”

  I frowilting my head. “How exactly does it make any sense? How did they know about it?”

  Lis, Mahya, and Lyura exged a gnce before answering in unison, “Portals.”

  I turo Lyura, narrowing my eyes. “Those two are a, but how do you know about them?”

  Lyura shrugged. “My mom told me.”

  “We all grew up with Traveler parents,” Lis said. “They taught us a lot. We didn’t learhing on our own.”

  Lyura’s expression darkened as she tinued, “Actually, my mother aught me anything my whole life.” She ched her fists, her voice hardening. “One day, she just told me I’d be w as a nanny for a noble family and took me to a Gate. It wasn’t until my mana awakehat she bothered to tell me anything. I still want to kill her for that.”

  Lis winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ouch.”

  Lyura’s eyes fshed a deeper e–almost red, her jaw tight and nostrils fring. The air around her felt hot, like her anger was heating it. She ched her fists so hard that her knuckles turned white, and they trembled at her sides as if she were barely holding herself together. There was a deep hurt in her expression, her lips pressed into a thin lihat quivered just enough to give her away. Her shoulders rose with every sharp breath, and for a sed, I thought she might just stomp off to her mother and finally let all that pain and fury loose.

  We exged uneasy looks, unsure what to do with the raw iy rolling off her. None of us said a word, but we all got the message—wait it out. So we stood awkward and unsure, giving her space to pull herself together. The moments dragged, her breath hitg as she wrestled for trol. Finally, after what felt like forever, she took a deep breath. As she let it out slowly, her shoulders sagged, the tension draining away. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she g us, then quickly looked doologetic expression on her face.

  Mahya stepped forward and hugged her. “It’s okay,” she said gently. “All of us have things we’re mad about. o be embarrassed.”

  She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbled, “Thanks.”

  We became invisible and popped in and out of the Gate. As we did, a thought struck me, and I turo Lis. “When we cross a Gate, it’s instantaneous, but when I was waiting for you in Shimoor, I felt the Gate activate for ten minutes or more before you crossed over. Why?”

  “I was reading the world’s information.”

  I blinked.. “Huh. I hought about that.”

  Later, during our train ride to Sto, I couldn’t help bringing up my subcss. “The description says it’s weaker, but it doesn’t feel that way—it’s actually awesome.”

  Lis looked at me with a smile. “That’s because you trained into it and got it for free at full strength.”

  I hesitated. “Uh… no, I didn’t. I paid five points for it.”

  His smile disappeared. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You didn’t ask,” I replied, shrugging slightly. “Look, I sidered it,” I tirying to expin. “I got Healer and Wizard for free because they are my thing. Actually, I got the Wizard for free because I didn’t want more unanswered questions when it was offered for points. Anyway, they’re csses I know I’ll rely on long-term. But I needed enough skill to defend myself in bat if things went sideways. I’m not pnning to bee a warrior or spend my time fighting unless absolutely necessary. So, I figured spending the points was worth it for the security. Better to have bat ow than wait to earn it for free, especially given how dangerous these worlds be and us Gate hopping all over the p.”

  Lis sighed, ping the bridge of his nose. “I uand your reasoning, but it still matters. With a paid css, you only retain the abilities you already had. You don’t gain anything neart from trait points as you level. A full-strength css grants you three abilities upfront and another every five levels. A mid-strength css gives you one upfront and another every ten levels.”

  “Oh.” My earlier fidence fizzled out as his words hit home. “That’s… a bigger trade-off than I thought.”

  Lis let out a slow breath, his tone softening. “It’s not the end of the world. You’ve already got the css, so we’ll train to upgrade it. But ime, ask before making decisions like that. There’s almost always more to it than what’s on the surface.”

  “Got it.” I nodded, determined not to screw up like this again. More fht and a few questions could’ve saved me from this mess.

  When we arrived in Sto, Lis suggested renting an apartment instead of staying at a hotel. After a quick sear Airbnb, we found a four-bedroom p the heart of the Old Town, with cobblestoreets and charming old buildings surrounding us. It felt like we’d stepped ba time. Two days ter, Lis found a closed gym for rent and told me with a determined glint in his eye that I’d start training the very day.

  The following m, he took me to the gym. The space was dusty and dimly lit, the air thick with the st of old sweat and worher. Without much ceremony, Lis took out two wooden swords and handed me one of them. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “Begin.”

  Not wanting to disappoint him, I lunged forward, trying to attack with the sword. But before I could eveer what was happening, he made a circur motion with his hand. The sword flew out of my grip as if yanked by an invisible force. My hand jerked to the side, and in an instant, he had the tip of his sword pressed firmly against my throat.

  “Hey!” I protested, more surprised than hurt. “That’s not fair! You’re older and more experiehan me. You’re supposed to teach me, not trash me in a sed.”

  “I am teag you.”

  I blinked, still trying to process how quickly he’d disarmed me. “What am I supposed to learn from this?”

  “taeorohan you,” he said, l the sword but still holding my gaze. “Or if you’re unsure of your oppo’s strength. Fight defensively and look for openings.”

  “Oh,” I muttered.

  The six months were pure torture. Lis trained me for sixteen hours a day, pushing me past my limits. No healing mid-training—he made sure every muscle ache stayed with me until the end of the day. “Pain is the best teacher,” he’d say, like a mantra, while I fought to keep up.

  It wasn’t just sword drills, though there were plenty of those. Lis had me revisiting teiques I thought I’d mastered and then added new nightmares: dual-wielding with a long and short sword, bang precision and speed. Then came a sword-and-knife bo, which looked easier than it was, and “normal” swords of equal length, where fatigue turned every swing into agony. He capped it off with exotic bdes—curved obsidian swords, bone-handled monstrosities, and translut gss-like daggers that seemed ready to snap in half. Eae came with its ow of challenges, and Lis wouldn’t let up until I adapted.

  By the time we moved to Romania, I thought I’d earned a break. No such luck. Lis found araining hall, where he decided my staff skills needed work. I’d traio level ten oh and used it in Shimoor, but Lis still tore my teique apart, pushing for speed, precision, and trol. Bruises piled up faster than lessons sank in.

  Then came martial arts. My Krav Maga training gave me fidence—for about five minutes. Lis’s uability had me hitting the mat more times than I care to admit. Just as I started catg on, he brought Mahya into the mix. Now, I was fending off two relentless oppos, trying to keep up with their coorditacks.

  The worst of it, though, was the paintball bow. I thought my level ten skills and perfect aim would impress them. Instead, Mahya turned into some gravity-defying nightmare, sprinting up cliffs, leapiweeops, and dodging my shots like they were moving in slow motion. Meanwhile, her arrows hit me every time. By the end, I aint-covered disaster, barely able to move.

  After months of training, it felt like I’d gone backward. But despite the bruises, exhaustion, and shattered fidence, I couldn’t deny it—Lis and Mahya were f me to bee something sharper, stronger. And as much as I hated every sed, it was w.

  Finally, after ay of humiliation, they deemed me “passable.” Being too exhausted, I could only feel relief. Lis and Mahya decided it was time to find a suitable Gate where I could “demonstrate my abilities in the physical world.”

  Refleg on the months of pain and frustration, I realized it was all my big mouth’s fault. Determined not to make the same mistake again, I took a vow of silence from that moment on.