The water hit the ground with an earth-shattering roar.

  The Goblin Riders and I bore the full brunt of the attack, losing our footing in two seconds flat. The cascade struck with the force of battering rams—hundred, no, two hundred strong.

  Darkness followed a loss of consciousness as I plunged into the deep. The icy water numbed my senses, forcing me into a weird state of limbo. I saw and heard nothing for what felt like an eternity. And then, I awoke to the sensation of water filling my lungs.

  My spirit returned to my body to find it swept in a shrieking tangle of goblins and Dread Tigers. The torrent pulled us apart and surged toward the rest of the battle.

  I flailed around for something to hold, but the raging water that poured from the rift showed no signs of stopping. It only increased.

  Thankfully, the rift couldn’t be forced open any wider. The incoming water squeezed through the aperture, which reduced the volume that came through each second but worsened the force.

  What the hell had the Goblin Sorcerers done? Opened a rift to the bottom of a river? How much more devastating would the spell have been if I didn’t interrupt their casting?

  The only answer I got was in the form of drowning. A struggle that ended when I crashed into a tree. The tree groaned with the strain and toppled backward, joining a few others that did so in rapid succession.

  The initial water damage had also knocked me out of [Impostor], placing me back into the body of old Cyran Irithiel. That body was not going to drown today if I had any say in the matter. The Chains of the Combat Ape appeared in my hands.

  But, where was The Blackreach Dagger? I’d been holding onto it seconds before the freaking rift opened.

  Crap.

  I summoned two regular-grade knives instead and formed Chain Nails out of the combination. And then, using all of my strength, I latched onto the next tree I passed. The Chain Nails fused with its trunk.

  That tree groaned too and grew cracks across its surface, threatening to fall. I abandoned it in search of another and finally attached myself to the largest I could find.

  The water kept pouring.

  Everyone had gone missing now, including my teammates and the goblins they had been fighting. Our heavy wagon bobbed in the distance and vanished beneath the surface. It boggled my mind to think that the Goblin Riders had planned to do this all along: kill us alongside their minions.

  Was there some path for recourse that the goblin scouts could pursue? Surely, the HR equivalent of the goblin horde would not tolerate this flagrant abuse of power.

  One large deridum tree swept past my position, bearing a crucified Wood Elf on its trunk. My chest tightened at the desecration of the corpses, but I took succor in the fact that they no longer served the goblins’ nefarious purposes. The water served as a cleanser in that regard to wash away the hideous atrocity.

  I lost sense of time as I clung to the tree, sopping wet and soaked to the bone. The rift eventually closed after a while, bringing an end to the artificial flood.

  It left a wretched scene of flooding and devastation, with one humanoid—a Dark Elf—glued to one of the few safeholds that remained. The water would spread in due time or seep into the ground. Or it might not. I had no idea how any of this worked.

  For now, I simply floated in the water, conscious of the fact that I couldn’t swim.

  It turned out that having a high Dexterity stat was all one needed to traverse water in a semi-manageable way.

  I had lost most of my HP during the flood, but I didn’t take a health potion, not until I was certain that the battle was done. The Night Scout Armor weighed heavily on me as I swam, but it was nothing that Common Strength couldn’t bear.

  Out on the horizon, the sun descended in announcement of the imminence of night. My most prized possession—The Blackreach Dagger—had gone missing in the fiasco. Paz and the others were nowhere to be found. And, oh god . . . this was like the teleportation tiles in the Labyrinth all over again.

  I swam around some more, alternating between trees for handholds, until I reached a point where the water tapered off into muddy ground. I flopped in the mud and reached for a stamina potion to restore my perilously low green meter.

  The fading sunlight shone on my face. Water sloshed around in my lungs. I wheezed and retched at intervals, hating everything about Vizhima. This was so pathetic.

  A few minutes later, I’d regained enough fortitude to return to my feet. A collection of [System] messages awaited me, but despite the number of kills, I didn’t manage a single level-up. More importantly, I didn’t kill any of my companions.

  I had no way of knowing if my interference with the sorcerers’ spellcasting counted as a valid means of contribution. Whatever the case, I was thankful that I didn’t get XP for any tragedies.

  Paz would survive based on [Sanguine Return] alone. And, Medekeine’s Shifter class did wonders for his resilience. Kajal didn’t seem the type to go down easily, but the same couldn’t be said about Logain and his heavy armor. I'd like to think that he survived alongside the others. However, a search and rescue would help allay the worst of my fears.

  The exercise took me alongside the edge of the lake to the feet of a trapped Dread Tiger. A tree had fallen over its thigh, pinning it to the ground. I freed it from the chains of life and was just about to loot its corpse when a figure wandered out of the water.

  “Div?!”

  The young girl blinked up at me. Without saying a word, she tugged our wagon out of the drink and toppled heaving to the ground.

  The wagon must have been made out of ranker-grade wood because it remained upright, despite a few areas of damage. A couple of the rock oil containers had sailed off in the chaos. What remained could still do wonders for the elves.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “You didn’t have to,” I said, watching the little girl. “What if you’d drowned?”

  “Master gave me an order,” she said, “to protect the cargo with my life.”

  A quick look at her health meter showed she had taken that order literally. It blinked empty with recent damage from her voyage underwater.

  “Hold on.” I ruffled around my inventory. “Let’s get you a health potion.”

  Div shook her head. She raised her hand and muttered a word. “[Heal].”

  Golden light surrounded her, infusing her with magic. Her health meter rose, and she repeated the spell two more times to fill it to the brim.

  “That’s . . .” I stuttered. “That’s an affinity. Which is it?”

  “Love.” She glanced casually at me. “Do you need healing?”

  “I guess?”

  Div gestured for me to crouch without rising from where she lay. I did as she asked and allowed her to pat my head.

  Okay . . . this was odd. Wasn’t she supposed to be some malevolent creature?

  “[Heal].”

  Soft light bathed me. It evoked the sensation of a hug, as though from a lover or a worried parent. I almost caught a fleeting glimpse of my birth mother in that light.

  The affinity of Love, huh? Monsters sometimes possessed affinities, but the only ones I could think of were goblins and now, Divs. Was there some correlation between sapience and access to the [System]?

  “That’s a pretty nifty ability you’ve got there,” I said. “Why did Medekeine say nothing about it?”

  “Because I’m only allowed to use my abilities at his discretion,” she answered with a shrug. “In the event of his absence, I will use them to further his goals.”

  “And, you’re fine with this? With being a slave?”

  Div sighed. “Can you free me, sir?”

  “Well, I don’t even know where to begin . . .”

  “It’s the cage. Master has it. Whoever holds my cage commands my obedience.”

  “And, what would happen should he perish with this cage in his possession?”

  “I’d also die.”

  Well, that was morbid. I skirted around her request. “Since you aren’t dead yet. It’s safe to assume that the angry dwarf lives. Is it possible for you to locate him?”

  “. . . No.”

  I pretended to ignore her hesitation. “You’re alone now in either case. Why not run away?”

  Div adopted a forlorn look. “I can’t.”

  Right. Obedience seals. Not to mention, I had no idea how collars and other magic contracts worked. “How did you end up a slave, anyway?”

  She didn’t reply.

  Too sensitive? I’d always wanted to talk with her out of earshot of the others. I couldn’t tolerate the ownership of slaves: humans and monsters alike. But, until I learned more, everyone else acted like slavery was perfectly normal for Divs.

  “You don’t need to answer that,” I said.

  Div accepted the offer. “I won’t.”

  We sat around in silence a little while longer. No matter how I looked at it, she still acted like a child. How could anyone treat her with such hatred?

  “Can I have your name?” I asked.

  Div opened her mouth, paused, and considered her words. “I don’t have a name.”

  “You’ve never been called anything in your life?”

  “. . . Everyone just calls me Div.”

  “That’s like saying I should be fine with being addressed as Elf. You need a proper name.”

  Div sat up slowly and stared out over the makeshift lake which ebbed with flotsam and jetsam. “You can call me whatever you want, sir. I will accept it if that is your desire. But, I don’t think that Master would be pleased.”

  “The short fiend doesn’t need to know. And, can you stop referring to me that way? My name is Damien.”

  “Damien . . .”

  “And, yours will be . . .” I frowned.

  A name was an important gift. The only one that a person received at birth and took to their graves. It could even be described as the ultimate possession.

  Possession, huh?

  Div’s eyes narrowed at the look on my face. “Is something wrong, Damien?”

  I replied with a chuckle. “That was pretty devious of you. Making it seem like it was my idea.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You get stronger the more possessions you amass. What could be more valuable than a name?”

  The div’s expression changed. A black look crossed her face, of unbridled rage so carefully repressed. She schooled her features the next second, but the damage had been done.

  I placed my fingers inside my inventory. Just in case.

  “Apologies then, sir,” she said. “I won’t take any more of your time. We need to find your companions.”

  “Aye.” What was that just now? Had Logain and the others been right about her, after all?

  Div rose from the mud and grabbed the wagon. A glint caught my eye.

  “Down!” I said and tackled her to the ground.

  A knife raked past my cheek, dropping my health.

  The wielder landed with a thud and kicked me in the face. Div and I went skidding through the mud.

  A large goblin, large for them anyway, stood near the wagon, wearing a sneer. He brandished a dagger and fixed his baleful, yellow eyes squarely on me. His broad, muscular physique looked unusual among goblins. Hold on—

  “You!” the goblin hissed. “You did this to us. You fucking shit!”

  Ah, yes. The Goblin Captain Level 34.

  I rose to my feet. “I’m in no mood for this, dude. You should have just gone quietly into the forest and continued on your way.”

  “I’ll gut you where you stand!”

  Really? Couldn’t he see that he was outnumbered? Div might not have much by way of combat skills, but she was freakishly strong and a healer to boot.

  “Stay back, div,” I said. “Heal me when needed. I presume you can do so without the need for touch?”

  No answer came.

  “Div?” I glanced down at my side.

  No one occupied the area. Not the girl or her shadow or any being whatsoever. Div had somehow disappeared over the last few seconds. The fuck?

  “What’s this?” The Goblin Captain grinned. “Your friend got cold feet? Doesn’t matter. You’re the one I want.”

  Div couldn’t teleport. Not that I knew of. But, again, I knew scant little of her abilities. Had she somehow returned to Medekeine’s side? Surely, she wouldn’t abandon me out of spite.

  The goblin spun his dagger: a rather intriguing weapon with a dark hilt and long, steel blade. It shared a similar design to one I had seen before. Oi . . .

  “That’s mine,” I snarled, “you little thief. Give it back!”

  “Finders keepers, eh?” The goblin said. “This belongs to me now. If you want it, I can place it in your skull!”

  “You talk a lot of smack for someone who lost an entire platoon.”

  “And, you’re the numbskull who managed to kill his allies!”

  “A numbskull is much better than a filthy milkskin.”

  “I am no milkskin!” He pointed the dagger at me.

  A tremendous weight slammed onto my shoulders, trapping my feet in the mud. It restricted my movements, enough to prevent me from lifting my head. The invisible force depressed the ground in a circle around the goblin.

  Ah. This was one of those monsters, huh? The kind who possessed an affinity.

  The goblin came running for me.