Hearing the clamor of people rushing around, Damian stirred in a medical cot.

  Sunlight was pouring in from somewhere on his left, denying him rest and forcing him to face reality.

  5 more minutes.

  He could tone out the sounds of people, but not the light.

  Bringing his left arm up to block the light, he only felt a little pat on the side of his cheek; the light continued to incessantly disturb his rest.

  Opening his eyes, Damian was met with his stub of an arm. Everything below the elbow was gone, just newly healed skin covering a rounded end. It didn't look pleasant. How was he supposed to impress Frey now by flexing his arms? Her eyes would always gravitate to the stub...

  Shit. Just couldn't be a bad dream, could it? Oh, how wonderful it would have been if it were all a fever dream caused after joining the Dungeon High Club.

  Thinking darkly, Damian pondered. Alex's Dungeon High Club probably saved us all. If we only took a short rest... we probably wouldn't have made it nine more rooms to another teleport circle.

  There was no way they would have been able to run away from Hans for several more rooms. Even less of a chance to get past him and to the next teleport point.

  I'll have to thank Alex for that...

  Ok, enough procrastination. Time to check on everyone.

  Dreading the worst, Damian sat up in his cot and took a look around. Healers and medical staff rushed around the open healing hall, bouncing from person to person.

  There were several rows of medical cots lined up. Over half were filled, and there weren't enough healers around to meet everyone's needs.

  Damian watched as a man nearby jerked his leg up. But instead of a whole leg, it was a bleeding stump. Blood spewed up high toward the vaulted ceiling and arched through the air. It came crashing down onto the back of a muscular man who was carting away a body covered in a bloodstained cloth.

  Medical staffers were wrapping his leg in bandages to stem the bleeding. They were panicking and calling for a healer.

  Damn, so Hans didn't just get to our party. But that thought wouldn't have explained the number of injured and dead he was witnessing.

  A thought struck Damian. What the hell happened to the rest of Hans's party? Did they all turn into undead at once and spread down the different channels of the dungeon?

  Every 10th floor of the dungeon, you would find a large teleportation bay where all paths led. From there, groups that had reached that floor could return and take various paths to continue up the dungeon.

  All the paths had the same number of rooms and the same types of monsters. A simple solution to prevent overcrowding.

  Some adventurers even left marked notes at the beginning of a path to notify that they'd be staying in a particular room of the dungeon. They'd be fighting the same monsters over and over to make a profit. Those groups were the settling type and more often than not, didn't break their level caps.

  What the hell happened?! How?

  Scanning the room, Damian noticed Fergus sitting at the bedside of Alex. The hulking woman had her eyes closed, resting peacefully. It was strange not seeing her causing a stir.

  Slowly getting off his cot, Damian made his way to them, sliding between rushing healers like a breeze of wind.

  He thought he looked cool, but instead he was turning sideways and crouching under outstretched arms. He didn't cause much of a disturbance to the healers. He just looked like he was doing a poor dance while crossing the room.

  Fergus looked up with his slit-like eyes and got straight to the point. "Alex just hit her head; she'll be fine. Frey is with Donna right now... Isaac... Isaac didn't make it."

  "... ..."

  Fuck, FUCK! It was going so fucking well! Isaac and Donna finally... Shit!

  Damian was clenching his fist and grinding his teeth. If his arm hadn't been healed, blood would have been flowing from it in uncontrolled pulses.

  In a poor attempt to cool his head and find some answers, Damian asked gruffly, "Did anyone tell you what happened? Is... is whatever went on in that dungeon still going on? Is it happening outside?"

  "There's been no official statement, but I overheard from some of the staff that two Valkyries are in the dungeon. Whatever happened must have been pretty big."

  Shit! A bloody Valkyrie, one of the Goddess of Light's own soldiers.

  Feeling too much blood going to his head, Damian took a partial seat on Alex's bed.

  Fuck, what next? Ok, make a list of priorities. Make it simple. Stay busy. Don't think about it.

  - Check on Frey and Donna.

  - Wait on Alex to heal up.

  - ... ...

  - Recover Isaac's body after his rite has been completed.

  - Return his body to his family.

  - Find out what happened. Check the Adventurers Guild?

  - Sell our loot.

  - Pay back the bastards who cause this? How? This is too big for us. Isn't it?

  - See about having my arm restored... too expensive.

  Righting himself, Damian asked, "Where can I find Frey and Donna?"

  Pausing for a moment, he followed up, "Also, is there anything I can do for you and Alex right now?"

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  With a weak smile, Fergus responded, "You can find them off to the side of the infirmary. There's a small park there. I'm sure Frey will be relieved to see that you're... mostly intact. Also, we don't need anything for now. Thanks for asking."

  Thinking for a moment, he added, "Don't do anything reckless. There's nothing we can do right now..."

  With a quick thanks, Damian turned away. "Ah, wait!" Damian halted at Fergus's shout. "You might want to check your level. I actually broke into Tier 4 after, well, all that. If you did too, maybe the new power could be something useful for, well, all this. I just figured that you wouldn't have noticed since you were unconscious."

  "Oh, did you get anything good?"

  "Yes, I did, but it isn't something that would help us out right now. I'll tell you about it later."

  "Thanks for the heads up, Fergus."

  Damian strolled on while pulling up his stat sheet in his mind. A multitiered dial-like symbol appeared in his mind. His very own unique symbol, assigned by the goddesses themselves, or at least their system.

  Right below it, two numbers appeared: his tier and level. And beneath that was a listing of his skills.

  Well, I'll be damned.

  He was now Tier 4 Level 1, the official mark of a veteran adventurer. An honorable achievement that would mark you as accomplished by anyone's standards.

  Most people hovered around tier 3. If you lived long enough, you were bound to reach the 4th tier eventually, just by existing. But by then, you'd likely be ready to retire or have a foot in the grave.

  The last crossroad was tier 3 level 30, and his next would be when he reaches tier 4 level 40. That wouldn't be for a long time.

  Only by pushing yourself to your limit and beyond could you level up and break tiers quickly. The more danger you put yourself in, the faster you can level. Although actively pursuing great danger would be a fast track to an early grave.

  He had heard rumours of a solo adventurer who started from tier 2 and made it all the way to tier 5 in a single year. Apparently, they never slowed down and met an early death.

  Damian and his friends weren't the fastest of levelers, but they weren't the slowest either. They spent plenty of time simply enjoying themselves, seeing all that a town had to offer. But when it came to working in a dungeon, they were serious about their work... well, mostly serious.

  If you take any of the classes the Adventurers Guild has to offer, they usually push for slower levelling and more focus on honing your skills. Basics, basics, and more basics. Not that most people listen. Gaining a new skill is too tempting. It's like letting a group of orphans go wild in a candy shop.

  Damian and his party were only in their early twenties. By all accounts, this was above average. But of course, the dark truth wormed its way back into Damian's mind. Isaac... The loss of an ally spoiled any sense of accomplishment.

  Looking down his skills, he read:

  ...Dammit!

  If... if I only had this before, then Isaac... Shit!

  That was just how power bestowal worked. A power that you either greatly desired or greatly needed around the time of tiering up was, more often than not, granted to you.

  Some say that it's the manifestation of your soul, while others claim that it is a direct gift from the goddesses.

  Of course, there were limits. One of Frey's abilities is actually the power of flight. But it doesn't work as one would hope. Currently, it's more of a slow hover, and she can't be holding much weight either.

  In a fight, she'd be the perfect target for enemies to fling spikes and javelins at. Not only that, she'd be too high up for Isaac to shield her...

  Shit! His mind kept drifting to dark thoughts.

  Stepping outside, Damian kicked up some dust in frustration.

  Outside, he was immediately greeted with the sight of the Earthen Spire. The dark brown tower stood tall in the middle of a large courtyard. No buildings stood by its side. It was isolated from everything else. Many stone paths ran through the grass and converged toward it.

  Looking up, the Spire reached far into the clouds, no end in sight. If anything, it was more of a monolith, not a single window to be found.

  The infirmary was located right next to the tower for obvious reasons. The whole city was designed around the Spire after all. It gives limitless resources for all who would dare enter it.

  The lower floors had easily dispatched monsters such as horned rabbits, tusked boars, and other more animal-like monsters. Even the poorest peasants or orphans could gather their own food at some risk.

  And my oh my, what a great meal it would be. I'm sure they'd be eating a meal more delicious than nobles do in an area without the blessing of a dungeon.

  Going a bit further up the Spire, you'd be greeted with tree-like monsters that made for an excellent source of wood. Its unique black color could be seen all throughout the city. It made up the majority of the buildings that never rose beyond 4 stories.

  Many of these buildings tried to cover the pitch-black wood with paint, but the darkness almost always bled through. They didn't bother with the more expensive options that could dye the wood to its core.

  The buildings varied a bit in the amount of stone they used. If memory serves correctly, several rooms on the 40th floor housed golem monsters that were perfect for laying a foundation, though they were also black.

  Everything that came from dungeon monsters was black. A common saying stemmed from this fact: You can have any color as long as it's black. This was a nod to how inexpensive the dark wood and stone were.

  Everything had a use in the tower, for the tower provides. Unfortunately, not all dungeons are as helpful as the Earthen Spire. Some of the more dangerous ones were designed to kill curious adventurers. And if no adventurers would dare enter, the dungeon would eventually come to you.

  Looking north up the hill, Damian could see that the more affluent members of society had their buildings made of standard wood and cut stone, or other, less accessible materials.

  At the peak of the hill stood the royal castle of the country of Duco. Creamy white stone made up the giant building with countless towers surrounding its exterior. It was a veritable fortress that looked like it should have housed giants. Its entirety was a stark contrast to the surrounding city.

  Shaking his head, Damian headed to the side of the infirmary to meet with Frey and Donna. It didn't take much searching. After rounding the corner, he could see them sitting on a bench. Donna was curled up into Frey's arms, shaking every once in a while...

  Is there something that I could say? Nothing spoken could remedy the situation. What was I thinking coming out here?

  Frey looked up and noticed Damian right away. With a wry smile, he gave a wave... with the wrong arm. Damn, guess I have to go over now.

  With soft steps, Damian made his way across the gravel walkway, barely making a sound. Standing there, he didn't know what to do. Looking at Frey, he could see relief in her eyes. She motioned with her eyes and nodded toward the bench.

  Following orders, Damian took a seat; the bench creaked under his weight, startling Donna and making her jump a bit. She stayed buried in Frey's embrace. Unsure what to do, Damian placed his hand on her back and lightly rubbed it.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Donna continued to sob, but the intermissions in between the fits of crying grew longer over time. Maybe she didn't have any more tears to give.

  Maybe if I did things differently, we wouldn't be here like this. Could we have ducked into the safe area and hid in one of the rooms? No, the doors may be indestructible and soundproof, but they don't lock. We wouldn't have been able to overpower Hans.

  Did I need to shoot those spikes at Hans? If I just let them shoot out toward the teleporter, then Hans wouldn't have been able to throw that volley, and Isaac wouldn't have had to jump in front of me...

  But those spikes were definitely weaker than Hans' javelins. A single javelin tore through my shield and arm; it tore a perfect hole through that monster. What would it have done against Isaac's shield? Did my actions get Isaac killed, or did I save more of us from dying? Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck!

  With a look of concern on her face, Frey spoke. "Isaac, save all of us today. Let's not dwell on 'what ifs'."

  Damn that woman. Am I that easy to see through? Does she know me that well? Maybe she's tier 4 and can read minds now?

  'sigh'

  They stayed there for some time, spending time together. Not a word was spoken. Watching the front of the infirmary, a couple more adventurer parties were being brought in, but not nearly as many were walking out...

  At least there was a heavy guard presence. Numerous guards were stationed around the building, especially around the back.

  That's probably where the rites take place...