The cliffs trembled.
Chunks of gravel tumbled down from the narrow path as Crit Happens stood face to face with a creature that should have stayed buried in legend.
The Ancient Golem towered above them — easily five meters tall — forged from cracked obsidian stone and molten crystal, its body pulsing with forgotten magic. Etchings older than any human civilization glowed across its frame, each movement grinding like boulders in a storm.
Dillion crouched behind a large rock, heart pounding in his chest.
“This thing’s insane,” he muttered, peeking from cover.
Kael, already halfway up the cliffside, loosed an arrow that sparked off the Golem’s arm. “Its core’s exposed in the chest… but it’s moving too fast for something that size!”
“Fast?” Lana growled as she dove past a swinging fist that cratered the earth. “It’s a walking earthquake!”
Gorran roared, slamming his hammer into the Golem’s leg — the blow echoed like a thunderclap, but the creature barely stumbled.
“Valen!” Dillion called out, still waiting for the plan to come together. “Is this really B-Rank?!”
Valen, blade humming with wind magic, ducked under a horizontal strike and barked, “Welcome to the big leagues, Water Gun!”
Mika’s voice chimed from nearby, firm but calm. “I’ve got heals ready! Dillion — get eyes on that core. We need a clean shot!”
Dillion nodded, gripping his shield tighter. His body had changed. Stronger. Faster. And his skills? Sharper than ever.
But this was different.
This wasn’t an arena fight. It wasn’t a tournament. This was a real test. If they failed here, there’d be no cheers, no respawns — just broken bones and lost soul gems.
System Notification:
“Mission Objective: Defeat the Ancient Golem.”
“Rank Requirement: B”
“Completion Reward: Adventurer License Rank Up – Pending Approval.”
This was his shot at becoming a certified B-Rank Adventurer.
And the Golem wasn’t going down easy.
Dillion darted across the battlefield, feet barely touching the ground. Swift Boots kicked in with every step, letting him weave through debris and crumbling earth as if the chaos didn’t touch him.
“Kael, left side — flank it!” Valen shouted, deflecting a hammer-sized fist with a burst of wind from his sword.
“On it!” Kael replied, already sliding down a slope, arrows glowing with soul energy.
Dillion circled wide, not aiming to attack but to see.
That was his role.
He wasn’t the strongest. He wasn’t the fastest. But he could read a fight — pick out the cracks before they split open.
The Golem slammed both fists into the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed outward, glowing molten orange. Mika raised her staff just in time, summoning a barrier of light around Lana and Gorran.
Dillion’s eyes snapped to the Golem’s chest — the core pulsed erratically, like a heart in distress. Each time it attacked, it overcharged that core, making the glowing runes dim for just a heartbeat.
There it is. That’s the window.
“Valen!” Dillion shouted across the field. “It loses magic for a split second after those slams — the core dims. That’s your shot!”
Valen locked eyes with him. “Good. Make me an opening.”
Dillion raised a hand — Water Manipulation.
He gathered moisture from the cracks, from the mist forming along the ground — three water bullets formed, each one denser than the last. They weren’t flashy, but they were fast and precise.
He took aim — Breathe in. Find the weak point. Exhale.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Each shot struck the golem’s shoulder joint, staggering it just enough to make it lean left.
“NOW!” Dillion yelled.
Lana surged forward. Her spear flashed blue as she planted it deep into the Golem’s leg joint, locking its position.
Mika’s chant echoed, light coating everyone like armor. “Reinforcement Field!”
Gorran, teeth bared, slammed into the Golem’s other side, keeping it from shifting its weight.
And then — Valen dashed forward, sword behind him like a comet.
Dillion whispered, “Please hit…”
Valen’s blade cut straight through the core — a flash of wind and soul-light erupted in all directions as the Golem froze, its body splitting down the middle like a cracked statue.
Stone fragments rained down.
Silence followed.
Then:
System Notification:
“Mission Completed: Ancient Golem Defeated.”
“Pending Review: Adventurer Rank B Promotion.”
Dillion stood still, hands on his knees, catching his breath.
He didn’t land the final blow.
He didn’t need to.
He made it possible.
That was his strength.
Valen walked past and clapped him on the shoulder. “Told you. It’s not about who hits hardest — it’s about who sees clearest.”
Dillion smiled. “So... am I B-Rank now?”
Valen smirking. “You definitely fought like one.”
The rest of the guild had already started celebrating back at the outpost, drinks flowing and Soul Gem readings being shared like trading cards. But Valen didn’t head that way.
Instead, he nudged Dillion with a tilt of his head. “Walk with me.”
They slipped into one of the side rooms — quieter, stone-walled and sparsely lit. The muffled sounds of laughter echoed faintly through the walls. Dillion stood, still riding the adrenaline high of the fight, but something about Valen’s expression sobered him.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
Valen didn’t speak at first. He walked to the edge of the room, resting one hand against the wall as if collecting his thoughts. Then he turned.
“You’re B-Rank now,” he said. “You earned it.”
Dillion nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going. “Thanks.”
Valen stepped forward, arms crossed. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
He paused. Long enough for Dillion to feel it — the weight of whatever was coming.
“I’ve been watching you,” Valen said. “Since the tournament, the Minotauras… hell, even when you got flung across the ruins by the Aqueduct King.”
Dillion winced. “Oof. Thanks for the reminder.”
Valen smirked briefly, but it faded fast.
“You’ve grown,” he said, voice firm. “And not just in level. You fight smarter. You care about the team. You push yourself even when no one’s watching. You remind me of why I built this guild in the first place.”
Then he let the silence stretch again.
Valen looked Dillion in the eye. Serious. Grounded.
“I want you to officially join Crit Happens.”
He held the words there — like a sword halfway unsheathed.
“But—”
Valen didn’t finish the sentence.
Not yet.
Valen looked Dillion dead in the eyes. His words slow. Clear.
“But I want something first.”
Dillion blinked. “Something?”
Valen nodded. “The Aqueduct King.”
The name hit like a stone.
“You’ve been at it for a while now,” Valen continued. “You’ve fought him what—five? Six times? Maybe more.”
“Seven,” Dillion admitted quietly. “Eight if you count the time I didn’t even make it past his tail.”
Valen didn’t smile. Didn’t tease.
“That’s exactly why I’m saying this now. You’re close. I know you’ve been working on something. A new skill. A move you think can finish him.”
Dillion stayed quiet, but his hands curled into fists at his sides. He had been working on something. A risky technique that was still half theory and half instinct — but it felt like it was getting close.
“I’ll help you refine it,” Valen said, voice steadier now. “I’ll train with you. I’ll get the others on board too if you need them.”
He stepped closer.
“But this is the line. The trial. When you beat him — when you really beat him — that’s when you’ll get it.”
Dillion tilted his head slightly. “Get what?”
Valen smiled. Not joking. Not mocking. Just… proud.
“Your place. Your crest. Your name etched into the wall next to ours. That’s when you’ll officially be one of us.”
Silence stretched again, but this time it carried weight. Not pressure — promise.
Dillion took a slow breath, his heart pounding in his chest.
He nodded once.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll take him down.”
Valen clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good. Because Crit Happens doesn’t hand out memberships.”
He grinned.
“We forge them.”
The training floor was littered with cracked tiles and faded afterimages of spells. A thin haze of dust hung in the air, caught in golden light pouring through the Arena’s high windows.
Dillion lay flat on his back, chest heaving, sweat soaking through his shirt. His shield rested by his side, and a small puddle of water slowly evaporated beneath him. He was smiling — not from victory, but from exhaustion, pride, and maybe a little disbelief.
Valen sat down beside him with a groan, shaking his head. His own shirt was half torn, a clean slice burned into the sleeve from Dillion’s last hit.
“I can’t believe that was the big secret move you were working on,” Valen said, chuckling between breaths. “All this mystery, all this buildup — and you hit me with a water balloon that exploded into fog and then punched me in the ribs.”
Dillion laughed too, coughing once. “Technically, it was a pressurized mist strike into a Fogstep feint with a follow-up Shield Bash… but yeah. Basically, water balloon and punch.”
They both cracked up, their laughter echoing across the empty training room.
Valen wiped his face with a towel and tossed it over his shoulder. “You’re insane, you know that? But it works. It works.”
He looked down at Dillion, serious now — just for a moment.
“I think you’re ready.”
Dillion exhaled slowly, smile fading into something calmer. More focused.
“Not yet,” he said, sitting up. “There’s one more thing I need to do first.”
Valen raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Dillion stood, picking up his shield and brushing himself off.
“I need to visit someone.”
Earth – Late Afternoon
The hum of the Eden pod faded, and Dillion opened his eyes to the soft lighting of the familiar chamber. His body ached — not with pain, but that deep soreness that came from weeks of pushing past limits.
He sat up slowly, wiped the sweat from his brow, and exhaled.
“Alright,” he muttered, grabbing his phone. A text from May was already waiting.
[May ??]
“You better not ghost me again, Water Gun. Meet me at Fox Bean Café in 20, or I’m sending an angry selfie every 30 seconds.”
Dillion chuckled, stretched out his shoulders, and changed into clean clothes. Something about seeing May after so much time — both in Sora and out — felt oddly important. He had been gone for what felt like months, but here on Earth it had barely been weeks.
Fox Bean Café – 4:42 PM
The café’s warm scent of roasted beans and cinnamon hit him before he even opened the door. It was quiet, tucked between a bookstore and a boutique. A few students typed away on laptops while lo-fi music buzzed from the speakers.
May was already there — curled up in a window booth, a caramel latte in front of her and a sly smile tugging at her lips.
She looked up as he walked in and immediately smirked.
“Well well well… look what the dungeon dragged in,” she teased. “Didn’t expect to see you outside your fantasy bubble, Mr. B-Rank Adventurer.”
Dillion laughed, sliding into the seat across from her. “Took a break from nearly dying for this.”
May sipped her latte. “So, what’s the occasion? Feeling nostalgic? Or did you actually miss me?”
He looked at her for a moment. Then smiled.
“Little bit of both.”
May tilted her head, sipping from her drink with a slow smile.
“You’ve changed,” she said. “I don’t just mean the muscles. You carry yourself differently now. Like… you belong somewhere.”
Dillion gave a small laugh. “I guess I’ve been spending a lot of time somewhere that made me feel that way.”
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Sora?”
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s strange. In there… I’ve done things I never thought I could. I’ve stood next to people I admire. Fought things I can’t explain. And… I helped save someone.”
May tilted her head. “Mika?”
Dillion blinked. “You heard about that?”
She smirked. “Everyone’s heard about it. Water Gun — the rookie who blocked a Named Beast’s hammer to protect his teammate? The clip’s everywhere.”
Dillion scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “I just did what anyone would’ve done.”
May’s smile softened. “That’s the thing. Not everyone would’ve. But you did.”
He looked at her then — really looked — and saw not just the playful grin, but the pride behind it. She believed in him, even before Sora. Even before he believed in himself.
“I’m glad you pushed me,” he said.
“To log in?”
He nodded. “You telling me about the Silas Crow event… it was the push I needed. That tiny moment changed everything.”
May’s voice dropped just above a whisper. “You’ve gone so far in such a short time. I mean… when you left the bookstore, I thought you were being reckless. But now? It’s like I’m watching you become the person you were always supposed to be.”
He looked away, a little overwhelmed by the sincerity in her voice.
Then she leaned back in her seat, grinning again. “Still can’t believe your nickname is Water Gun, though.”
He groaned. “Please don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m never letting that go.”
They laughed together, their shoulders relaxing, the city noise humming around them. But under the laughter was something unspoken — a thread pulling tighter between them.
Then May stood up and tossed her cup. “Walk me home?”
Dillion got to his feet with a small nod. “Yeah… of course.”
As they walked side by side through the glowing streetlights, Dillion couldn’t help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t just a part of his past anymore.
She was part of his why.
As they turned down the quiet street toward May’s house, the energy between them shifted. The teasing faded. The laughter quieted. Dillion's steps slowed slightly, hands tucked into his hoodie pockets.
“I’ve been training every day,” he said, voice lower now. “Eating better, working out, fighting non-stop in Sora... but there’s still one thing I can’t beat.”
May looked at him, her brows knitting gently. “The Aqueduct King?”
He nodded, eyes fixed on the pavement ahead. “I’ve tried over and over again. I’ve come close, but he’s... brutal. Smart. Fast. Every time I think I’ve got him figured out, he adapts. And no matter how hard I train, there’s always this voice in the back of my head that says I’m just not good enough.”
May didn’t answer right away. They walked another few steps under the golden glow of a streetlamp.
Then she said, “You know what I remember about you? Back when people used to pick on you for reading too much or being too quiet — you never snapped. You just… kept being you. And now look at you. You went into another world, Dillion. You saved someone. You got stronger — not just in your body, but in here.” She placed a hand lightly on his chest.
“You’re scared?” she continued. “Good. That means it matters. But don’t let that fear lie to you. You can beat him. Not because you're perfect — but because you don't quit.”
Dillion swallowed the lump in his throat as they stopped at the walkway to her front door. He looked at her, really looked, as if her words had settled something deep inside of him.
May smirked, suddenly back to her usual energy.
“Besides… if you can survive a nickname like Water Gun, you can survive anything.”
He laughed — and she stepped closer, surprising him with a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Now go beat that oversized salamander, Dilly,” she said with a wink.
And before he could say anything else, she turned and dashed up the path to her door, waving over her shoulder.
Dillion stood there for a moment, hand drifting to his cheek. Then he looked up at the night sky — stars clear, air still.
Her voice echoed in his mind.
"You don't quit."
He smiled.
“Alright,” he whispered to himself. “One more time.”