Hours passed as Grant scanned through every Item on the Store. One of the first things he noticed was the pricing seemed arbitrary at some times, downright bizarre at others. For the most part, the Point prices were proportional to the coin prices in Iori. Common, mundane Items like simple clothing and food seldom cost more than 1,000 Points. Uncommon Items started at 15,000, Rare ones 50,000 or higher.

  But whenever he thought he'd found a pattern to the Store, an Item would come along and break it. On the 502nd page, there was a seemingly ordinary paper fan for a staggering 30,000 Points. On the next, a high-quality silk scarf cost only 750.

  He kept his eyes moving, looking for what she'd wanted him to find. Hope dwindled with each page, and soon, he was groaning and muttering curses. During his search, he had only found two Items he could afford: a pig carcass and a ball of unprocessed cotton. It was doubtful that the woman, Goddess, or whatever she was wanted him to buy either of those.

  Grant searched without rest, eyes flitting over the words as quickly they could, but he had not even reached page 2,500. He had always prided himself on being a fast reader, but there were between 10 and 20 Items per page. It was simply too much reading with too little time. It didn’t help that if he missed the Item that could save him, he would die, and he had to return several pages when his mind began to wander.

  As the woman said, there were 15,621 pages of Items. At this rate, he wouldn’t make it to the 5000th before time was up.

  What did she want him to find? Grant wracked his brain, tapping on the top of his head like a rider snapping a crop on his horse. She must have known that he couldn't read every single page before the Campaign began, and he had no reason to believe that she had deceived him to waste his time. What would be the point? He closed his eyes, bringing her words back to memory. “There are 15,621 pages of Items alone. Have you checked all of them?”

  He blinked, then scrambled to his feet, pointing at a blank wall. “Wait! That wasn’t what she said!”

  He paced back and forward between the walls, mumbling to himself. “She said something else first. Something about the number of pages.” She had given another number before correcting herself. Why? A woman who can appear and disappear in a recruit’s room at will and Read his Point total effortlessly wouldn’t make a mistake like that, would she? Was there a hidden message in her words?

  It was in the 7000s. Of that much, at least, he was confident. Grant checked his Notifications to see how much time he had left.

  [3 hours and 18 minutes remaining until the Sixth Campaign begins.]

  It would have to be enough. He willed his Store to jump to page 7,000 of the Items and began turning from page to page, giving each only a blink of time before skipping to the next. He made sure to leave nothing unread, but wasted no time on what he couldn't afford.

  Over an hour passed as he scanned everything.

  [Introduction to Elven History, Book XVII (3,400 Points)]

  [Strand of Human Hair (600 Points)]

  [Bard’s Lute (39,000 Points)]

  [Dice of Fate (All)]

  [Bath Sponge (800 Points)]

  [Theater Mask (1,400 Points)]

  […]

  Grant squinted, focusing on the Dice of Fate. He almost missed it, but its Point cost—or rather, its lack of a Point cost—stood out from the rest.

  [Dice of Fate]

  [Rarity: N/A]

  [Limit: 1]

  [Affiliation: Soul]

  [Prerequisites: 0 Used Points]

  [Roll the Dice of Fate to select any Store Class, Spell, Skill, or Item at random. Removes all Points upon Purchase. User must not have bought any Class, Spell, Skill or Item before use. The Dice may be rolled up to three times. Upon re-roll, all previous options become unavailable. All minimum prerequisite Attribute requirements will be met upon selection of any Class, Spell, Skill, or Item.]

  “Wait, the Dice can give me anything on the Store?” His head spun with possibilities. With his Attributes, a Class like Archmage or Diviner would make him the most powerful Campaigner in history.

  But a pig carcass would make him the weakest. Which I already am, he bitterly remembered.

  He clenched his fists, taking calming breaths. It was nearly impossible. Of the hundreds of thousands of things on the Store, the overwhelming majority were Items, of which the overwhelming majority were useless. He was far more likely to get something like a flea-infested blanket or a short ladder than anything useful.

  But he had exhausted all other options. This was what the woman wanted him to find, and she must have directed him to it for a reason. Before he could change his mind, he focused on Dice of Fate and selected Purchase.

  [You have Purchased Dice of Fate!]

  [Remaining Points: 0]

  The Dice of Fate appeared in his hand, and he fumbled, nearly dropping them to the floor. They were not a single die, but six 20-sided dice. Each number on them glowed faintly, alternating between gray, brown, red, green, yellow, silver, and gold. They were cold to the touch, like a stone wall. He stared down at them.

  "Do I just throw them?"

  There was no reply. The dice continued glowing gently, casting their colors on his skin. They were oddly beautiful, in a way.

  "I guess I just throw them."

  Grant stood up straight and cracked his neck. He rolled his shoulders as he had seen dice players do in Iori’s alleys. He'd never been a gambler, not only because he never really had any money to gamble with. In the street games, losing meant you lost your money, winning meant you risked getting stabbed.

  And then you lost all your money.

  He gripped them tightly and wound up, releasing them in an underhand throw.

  They rolled across the floor and collided with the far wall. Each number pulsed lightly and then hovered in the air in a dull bronze.

  9–14–5–14–20–2

  Grant received a Notification.

  [Class: Aquatic Legionnaire (50,000 Points)]

  [Rarity: Uncommon]

  [Affiliation: Physical, Water]

  [Prerequisites: 16 Base Agility, 16 Base Strength]

  [Skills: Trident Mastery, Echolocation]

  [Passive Abilities: Underwater Breathing, Underwater Agility, Underwater Strength]

  [The Aquatic Legionnaire specializes in underwater combat. Provides 1,000 percent increased swim speed, heightened senses, enhanced Agility and Strength, and new Skills while submerged.]

  [Would you like to accept Aquatic Legionnaire? Note: The Dice of Fate cannot be re-rolled after selecting this option.]

  Grant took a racking breath and read over the Class again, tears of relief welling. It was extremely situational, and he would basically be powerless outside of aquatic environments. But it was an Uncommon Class. It was something he could use to earn more Points, and eventually he could buy himself a Spell. He briefly fantasized about finding a ship Col worked on and capsizing it like a giant whale.

  There was the small matter of him not knowing how to swim, of course, but he’d have plenty of time to learn without fear of drowning.

  The cost of the Class and its rarity suggested it was powerful, too. 50,000 was well over-average for starting Points. And while Mr. Nerelot warned him against choosing a Class, Mr. Nerelot probably hadn’t imagined he’d be starting with 487 Points.

  He moved to choose Yes, but hesitated.

  It wasn’t right.

  Grant plopped down onto the floor and crossed his legs.

  What if he were placed in a desert? Then he might as well not have bought anything at all. Also, the prerequisites signified it was an Agility- and Strength-based Class. Those Attributes would be provided to him, but they would still be among his lowest, and therefore the slowest to increase. Where would he be in a year with it, as his Perception and Wisdom grew faster, and his Agility and Strength stood nearly stagnant?

  The more thought he gave it, the less sense the choice made. It was a strong Class. It was worth every Point it normally cost. It would have been perfect for someone like Roland, Ayers, or Col, he begrudgingly admitted. It just wasn’t for him.

  “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

  With a heavy heart, he directed his attention to No, and he selected it.

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  [You have rejected Aquatic Legionnaire!]

  The dice were back in his hand the next moment.

  [Two rolls remaining.]

  Grant shook them again, but this time, he added another step to his routine: he blew on them. Many gamblers seemed to believe that it added luck, and he would take as much as he could get. He whispered a plea to the Goddess and threw the dice.

  They rolled across the floor, then collided with the far-side wall.

  2–2–1–11–17–6

  The numbers hovered a pale gray.

  [Item: Fresh Bream (500 Points)]

  [Rarity: Common]

  [A common fish found in the Ithian Sea of Lyria. Main ingredient of a stew considered a delicacy in the region.]

  [Would you like to accept Fresh Bream? Note: The Dice of Fate cannot be re-rolled after selecting this option.]

  A string of curse words so vile that it would get Grant ejected from even the most rundown tavern in Iori flowed from his mouth. Sailors and mercenaries in his vicinity would press trembling hands to their ears, mothers and fathers would abandon their children to save themselves, and priests and priestesses would collapse to their knees to pray for his soul.

  He clutched his chest, forcing slow breaths. He had made his ribs ache again. For the first time in his life, Grant understood what drove gamblers to madness. It would take him another hundred rolls of the dice to get an outcome as good as the first, but he had thrown it away.

  Stupid.

  He selected No.

  [You have rejected Fresh Bream!]

  As before, the dice returned to his hand

  [One roll remaining.]

  The words lingered ominously.

  Needless to say, Grant did not blow on the dice, nor did he pray to the Goddess. As he wound up for his throw, something came over him—something he seldom wanted to think about. He tilted his head back.

  “Dad, I could really use some help right now.”

  His hand opened, and the dice tumbled out.

  ***

  Meira

  Meira watched, mouth hanging and eyebrows high, as the young man cursed in a way she had not heard in hundreds of years.

  I suppose that means he won’t be taking the fish, she thought to herself.

  He had chosen not to take his first option either. He was correct not to. It was an Uncommon Class, but it would have been inconsistent and unreliable.

  Before his final roll, he spoke some words for luck—a short prayer to his father. She knew little about the young man, but she did know that his father could help him no more than the Goddess.

  She watched the dice tumble, wincing before they stopped. They would not land on something that could save him. She waved her hand before her eyes, and a single thread split into hundreds, thousands, and then millions more possibilities.

  Most Gods took for granted the degree to which a breath of time, a foot of space, or a single word could change one’s fate. But it was her domain to see such possibilities, and in the seconds the dice rolled across the white floor, she saw a thousand lifetimes. In many of them, Grant Leeman died seconds after walking through the Portal. In others, he survived for months, others yet for years.

  She looked around herself one more time. She couldn’t be too obvious, as it would draw the attention of the others.

  But a gentle tug on a single string wouldn’t. They were guilty of far more.

  With one last pull, she changed a four to a five, completely altering the trajectory of Grant Leeman’s life.

  ***

  Grant held his breath.

  Magic! I don’t care what type—Wind, Water, Fire, Earth.

  17–12–3–8–11–…

  The last die teetered on a corner. Grant stared with his hands clenched and his mouth gaping, waiting for it to topple over. The last number could be the difference between another fish and a Rare Spell.

  5

  The numbers floated up and hovered, this time in a shade of gold bright enough to make a Queen’s eyes sparkle.

  [Skill: Perfect Invisibility (750,000 Points)]

  [Rarity: Legendary]

  [Affiliation: Physical, Soul, Illusion, Mind]

  [Prerequisites: 24 Base Agility, 22 Base Perception]

  [Cooldown: 15 seconds between uses, one-day recharge]

  [Allows the user to enter a state of Invisibility for up to 10 minutes a day. While Invisible, the user will make no sound, emit no smell, and be undetectable by Skills, Spells, and Items. Attacking breaks Invisibility. All Items worn or carried by the user gain Invisibility while active.]

  Grant stammered, reading the Skill description again and again. Shock overcame him, and a half-laugh, half-cry sound spluttered from his lips. The dice disappeared, and the Skill was automatically selected for him.

  His hands shook as the golden numbers dissolved into a powder, flowing into his skin. 750,000 Points was something that would take months—no, years to save, even for an Anomaly, and by the time they had it, the Spells, Skills, and Classes section of the Store would be closed. Had any Campaigner ever had that many Points at one time? When he saw the million-Point Classes and Items, he wondered why they even existed, as it was nearly impossible to save enough Points to buy one. Were they there solely to be acquired through Dice of Fate?

  Grant read its description again. The Skill was unlike anything else he had seen or heard of from the Store. In certain situations, it was so obscenely strong that he couldn’t even understand how it was allowed to exist. If its description were accurate, he could walk into Athemore’s throne room and begin screaming into the Emperor’s ear without notice.

  He read it for what must have been the tenth time, this time more slowly. His eyes stopped on the first line, and he sagged as it began to make more sense. 10 minutes a day was a terribly short time. Assuming that time where he was being sent passed as it did on Lyria, that would leave 23 hours and 50 minutes where he was just regular old Grant. Nothing would protect him from an elemental Spell, a spear thrust, an arrow, or a Mind or Soul attack.

  Then the realization crashed into Grant like a bull’s charge. Rott’s words came flooding back. If it gets out that you’re sitting on a bunch of Points, you’ll start notice a lot more friendly arrows narrowly missing your neck.

  Grant possessed a 750,000-Point Skill.

  When word got out, the strongest Campaigners of all races would tear the world apart looking for him. He was now the most wanted person in Campaign history, and nobody knew about it.

  Yet.

  “Goddess…”

  He curled his fingers tight around his thumbs. This was bad. All it would take was someone who knew the Skill seeing him use it, and they would put two and two together. Rogue-like Classes could conceal themselves in the shadows, but to instantly disappear from sight, making not so much as a whisper of sound? Even by Campaign standards, it was a terrifying ability to possess.

  He became lightheaded at the implication. Grant couldn’t join a party or a raid, and if he did, he could never use the Skill in front of others. The only people he trusted on this world were Ayers, Roland, and Lira.

  He paused. Can I trust them? Of course I can.

  Grant hummed, tapping his finger on his knee. There was one more aspect of the Skill that he had yet to confirm. The Dice of Fate said that his Attributes would be raised to meet all the prerequisites of what he selected.

  Display Attributes.

  [Displaying Attributes…]

  Name: Grant Leeman

  Strength: 12

  Vitality: 12

  Dexterity: 16 + 2

  Agility: 24

  Intelligence: 17

  Wisdom: 18+2

  Perception: 22

  The Skill did as it said it would, but Grant still couldn’t believe it. His Agility had jumped from 13 to 24. When he raised it naturally in the yard, he found that both combat maneuvers and everyday tasks became far easier. Ayers even taught him an advanced acrobatics technique where he could cartwheel by pushing the butt of his spear into the ground, although the first fifty times he tried it, he’d ended up face-down in the dirt, Captain Alaric glaring at him. Just what was he capable of with 24 in the Attribute?

  “Only one way to find out,” Grant said. In spite of the circumstances, a smile crossed his face. He had always wondered what it was like to be athletic. He planted his right foot onto the floor behind himself, dragging his right arm back with it, and sucked in a slow breath. With a burst of power, he sprang across the room, boots squeaking on the floor.

  He crossed the space faster than he had thought possible. With no way to stop, panic rose in his chest, but his reflexes took over. He leaped with his left foot and met the wall with his right, pushing off and flipping backwards, landing gently in the room’s center.

  Grant’s shoulders heaved as he panted. “I was just two yards in the air.” He laughed. He’d never felt so exhilarated and alive as that moment. “I was just two yards in the air!” He performed a celebratory backflip with ease.

  Wait a second, he thought.

  Most of his power had gone into the wall. Just how high could he jump now?

  And why didn’t his ribs hurt anymore? Had taking the Skill healed him?

  Grant shrugged, and from his crouched position, leaping as high as he could, raising his left hand in the air. His fingers brushed the ceiling. He let out a cheer when he landed.

  It was easily five yards above the floor. Grant had once seen an acrobatics performance from a troupe in Iori’s town square. They jumped, tumbled, cartwheeled, and flipped to the awe of the townsfolk, but not a single one of them could do half of what he could now, and he’d never practiced a day in his life. His friends would lose their minds if they saw him.

  In a world where a Mage could reduce a small town to rubble with an earthquake, being able to run high and jump fast didn’t seem all that impressive, but Grant would like to see one of those noblemen or noblewomen try to cast a Spell with a dagger in their neck.

  There was only one more thing to do. Taking a moment to prepare himself, he focused on Perfect Invisibility. The knowledge of how to activate the Skill flooded his mind. He was surprised at how straightforward it was; all it would take was willing himself to turn Invisible. With a quick mental command that took no more effort than blinking, his skin glowed a translucent white.

  Grant cocked his head, checking his body. He could still see himself. Did this mean he was only invisible to others? It made sense, he supposed. Being invisible to himself would be incredibly inconvenient—he couldn’t check for injury or shield his eyes from the sunlight.

  A timer appeared in the top right corner of his field of vision. It was locked at 10:00. Skills could be used without cooldown in this room, which was something he would make the most of.

  He grinned. What were his new limits?

  ***

  Grant sat leaning against a wall, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. He rested with the familiar warmth of the dagger firm in his hand, waiting for the Campaign to begin.

  He had only practiced his new Agility for two hours, but an observer would think he had possessed the physical abilities it provided for years. It was an odd sensation; before he rolled the Dice of Fate, he always naturally knew what his body was capable of. With a short inspection of a ledge, he could tell whether he could jump high enough to grab onto it, and whether he was strong enough to pull himself up. It admittedly did help that the answer was almost always no, but he had a natural sense for it.

  Nothing had changed there, but he recognized far more things within his grasp now. The boost to his Agility had not only instilled in him superhuman acrobatic skills, but an understanding of his own limits.

  He could perform double backflips and double front flips. He could run horizontally across a wall for several steps, or scale it by bounding up a corner. He could run the length of the room in under two seconds. He could perform more advanced versions of the acrobatic movements he had seen from the troupe easily, and he didn’t even know the words for them. And he could do all of it with his dagger in hand.

  An uncomfortable chill went up his spine as he looked at the blade. Everything that happened to Grant in the past month had led to this. As he was now, he could sneak up and gouge the bowels out of Belal Genus, who would only feel crippling pain before bleeding to death in seconds. Spellcasters were dangerous because they could fry an unsuspecting person’s organs from a field away. They seldom expected anyone to close the distance.

  He stroked the dull side of his dagger. Back in Iori, there were rumors of an Assassin’s Guild with branches spread across the entire Evenon Empire. When an important man wanted another important man dead, legends said he could call on them—if he could afford their rates, at least.

  With Perfect Invisibility and 24 Agility, he could put them out of business.

  Not that he would, of course.

  [One minute remaining until the Sixth Campaign begins. The Second Floor Portal will open once the Four Commanders on the First have been purged from the realm. Auctions will become available upon entry.]

  “Four Commanders…?” he murmured. He had been told that all Campaign levels involved an objective for advancement, but all surviving Campaigners could advance to the next floor once they were completed, regardless of whether they had anything to do with their completion.

  Well, it won’t be me dealing with the Commanders, Grant thought idly. It was best to leave such matters to others. The high races—the Elves, Orcs, Gnomes and Dwarves generally handled such, while Humans focused more on staying alive.

  [10 seconds remaining until the Sixth Campaign begins.]

  He counted down the timer. At one, the room faded to nothingness, and the next moment he was outside.