The difficulty lies not so much in developing new ideas as in escaping from old ones.

  ― John Maynard Keynes, The General Theory of Employment, Interest and Money

  ******

  Neron's musings were cut short as his ears picked up a noise other than the steady beat of his footsteps.

  No matter his thoughts on the psychology of RPGs, and the players of such, a dungeon filled with monsters was not the best time to ruminate.

  "Can you taste anything?" Neron asked Jorry sotto voce, as he tried to strain his ear.

  "It smells like ratmen," Jorry deadpanned without bothering to whisper. It seemed like he was still steamed about Neron's comments regarding their weakness. Something to address later. "Ratmen, blood, and dirt."

  Jorry's voice was inaudible to other people, certainly, but Neron had no way of knowing if other beasts or monsters could hear him, unable to test it as he was without another creature with a developed Self. He knew the average animal didn’t hear it, but monsters might be different.

  Without any help from the small snake, Neron simply kept his ears peeled to try and distinguish what had alerted him. The trail of blood and disturbed dirt from the players they had passed was still discernible in the light of his lantern, meaning they hadn't yet reached the place the pair had killed their ratman.

  More than likely, it was another player returning from even further in. If so, Neron might have already missed all ratmen in this side tunnel.

  If he had to double back again to return to the passage with the discarded corpse to find prey, Jorry would be insufferable.

  After a few seconds, Neron could distinguish the murmur of voices and was about to assume another posture of casual indifference when his conscious brain caught up to his ears.

  "Ratsmiceinvaderskillkillkillbadkillratkillbloodbadhomegonekillkill."

  "Killratkillinvadekillkillbitekillclawkillkillmicekillhomekillspawnkill."

  The sounds bounced and echoed oddly in the twisting and turning of the tunnel. It wasn't words, not really, more like the tumble of sounds one after another that might have formed words if they were slowed down. Neron couldn't parse them individually, but of a few things he could be certain.

  First, that these sounded similar to what he heard from the rats and mice he and Jorry would hunt occasionally.

  Second, that the voices were deeper, more malevolent, and getting closer.

  And finally, third, there were two of them.

  "Shit," Neron swore as he readied himself for battle. "Two ratmen coming in."

  While Neron had never entertained the notion of getting the drop on one the creatures, not with their better than human senses and his carrying around a light, he'd still hoped to be able to find one by itself.

  "Finally!" Jorry hissed with pleasure.

  Never mind that he was barely larger than one of their claws.

  Slithering his way down Neron's arm, the tiny serpent perched itself on his hand while the other gripped his reinforced staff.

  Neron placed himself in the center of the widest part of the passage to give himself more room, lowered his center of gravity, and waited. The chittering voices grew louder, soon accompanied by the clicking of clawed feet on stone.

  It was barely three seconds later that Neron finally caught sight of his would-be foes.

  Despite their humanoid frame, they skittered closer at a concerning speed on all fours. Barely coming up to his thighs, they were each a third as wide as he was. Short and stocky, they rushed at him side by side, two masses of matted fur and dense flesh. Their eyes glowed a malevolent red in the reflected light of his lantern, mouths dripping blood and saliva.

  Neron barely had time to register all these facts before they pounced on him in unison, twin cries of 'Kill' ringing from their spiritual voices.

  His staff smashed one out of the air with a meaty Thunk! catching it on the shoulder and knocking it to the ground.

  The other ratman crashed into his side, its body weight shoving him back as he struggled to keep his feet.

  If he got knocked down, he'd die for sure.

  Four pairs of claws scrabbled against the thick leather of his armor, sliding down slightly until a back leg found purchase around the joint of his knee. Less reinforced, it tore through leather, cloth and skin. Neron let out a hiss of pain as the claw scraped against the bone of his kneecap.

  Leaning with the body weight now clinging to him, Neron staggered slightly. Deciding to go with the motion, he pushed off with his other leg, attempting to smash the monster into the side of the tunnel to dislodge it.

  The ratman let out a mix between a grunt and a squeak as its spine impacted the hardened dirt and stone, its jaws loosening from trying to clamp on his waist.

  Taking the opportunity for what it was, Neron pulled away from the creature, swinging his hand down to half drop, half throw Jorry onto its back.

  "Mwahahahahahaha," the tiny snake cackled in glee as he landed on the back of the ratman's skull.

  Unable to do any real damage due to his size, Jorry slithered to one side, planting his tiny fangs in the delicate flesh of the rodent's ear and twisting with as much force as the minuscule serpent could muster.

  Which wasn't much.

  Not even enough to fully tear off the ear, but it still caused the ratman enough pain that it squealed and lowered its head so its stocky arms could rise up and attempt to reach the nuisance causing it pain.

  Jorry hurried to slide down the monster's spine, away from the natural range of motion of the creature's grasping claws.

  Judging his small companion could keep this enemy distracted for a moment, Neron turned to face the one he'd knocked away.

  Though he'd feared it would be taking advantage of his distraction, Neron found it barely recovered from his blow, only now approaching him. One of its fore legs stumbled, his blow likely having done damage to its shoulder joint and preventing it from placing too much weight on it.

  It wouldn't stop the monster, and Neron wasn't the type to let a weakness go unexploited.

  Advancing at an angle to place himself closer to the wounded side, the ratman tried to lunge at his ankles with its wide-open jaws.

  Planting his staff in the dirt, Neron blocked the blow. The jaws snapped shut around the reinforced weapon hard enough to splinter the wood and dent the metal and, with a wrenching motion, the creature attempted to wrench the weapon from Neron's grip.

  A mistake.

  With a grunt, Neron pushed almost all his body weight onto the top of his staff to hold it in place. Maintaining his balance with his injured leg, he raised his other and slammed it down on the head of the creature.

  Once. Twice. Thrice, Neron stomped on the creature’s skull, the heel of his boot digging into flesh and bone, gouging one its eyes as it attempted to release the staff and retreat.

  Unfortunately, the monster's attempt to flee had led Neron to needing to tilt his body weight, placing more on his injured knee and forcing him to cease his blows lest he fall over.

  It didn't matter to the ratman though, as it lay on the ground with a broken jaw, gurgling in pain and fear.

  Without missing a beat, Neron turned to face the other monster.

  Jorry had, thankfully, managed to remain undamaged, slithering this way and that around the creature’s elongated skull and upper body. One misjudgment would have killed the small creature but its size was working to its advantage as it kept the beast distracted.

  Still, it wouldn't be long before the ratman realized it could do as Neron had done and use the wall or floor to get the annoyance off its body.

  Neron didn't give it the chance.

  Taking advantage of its distraction, Neron grasped his staff with both hands and slammed it down at the base of the ratman's spine.

  With a squeal of pain, its hind legs gave out.

  Jorry, with a laugh of triumph, lunged forward. His tiny fangs sunk into the creature’s delicate eyelid, drawing another, higher pitch, squeal from the monster. Its still functioning forelimbs scrabbled to claw at the snake.

  Neron's staff smashed the base of its skull before it had the chance and it twitched involuntarily.

  One light blow at the right angle could paralyze or kill even the strongest creature due to the bundle of nerves and bone there, but Neron was not so skilled to be able to get that perfect hit. It took two more strikes before the spine broke, leaving the monster limp.

  For a heartbeat there were no sounds as the fight ended. Then the ratman with Neron had left behind let out one last gurgling breath and died.

  "Wooooh!" Jorry cheered, releasing the eyelid and wiggling in joy. "Yeah! That's it! This is what happens when you challenge a dragon!"

  Neron let out a deep breath through his nose, trying to get his adrenaline under control as his companion celebrated. He’d towered over these creatures, was much better armed and armored and had the wherewithal to plan and coordinate.

  And his body cared for none of it.

  His heart was beating furiously, his blood pumped a cacophonous beat through his skull, his hands shook against his staff, his eyes were filled with spots and his legs were in the process of turning liquid. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug and this fight, this tiny, insignificant fight, had shot more through his system than at any other point of his life.

  Ysold’s Hall had done its job, giving him the tools he needed in this fight when his blood was up and threats were near, yet no matter how scary that wooden puppet of a bear was, it was still something dedicated to training. Neron always knew, at the back of his mind, that there was no maliciousness or desire to kill him in their actions.

  Ratmen were small and weak compared to him, but they had still been trying to kill him and his body knew it. Logic did not matter much in the face of hundreds of millions of years of evolution.

  So yes, it did take a few long moments for Neron to regain his composure.

  Once he'd done so, he drew his skinning knife from its sheath and knelt beside the still living ratman. Its eyes watched him, filled with pain, hate, and fear. Neron plunged the knife into that eye, carefully angling it so it wouldn't hit the creature's skull and damage the blade.

  It took two more seconds for the monster to die.

  "Hey," Jorry called. "Cut me a piece. I want to eat it."

  "Give me a minute," Neron grunted as he sat down, back to the tunnel wall and leg stretched out before him.

  A good part of that minute was spent concentrating in silence. The first attempt failed due to the stinging in his leg distracting him and the still rapid beat of his heart, but Neron managed to cast Scab on the second.

  Holding it over his bleeding knee, Neron watched as the blood slowed to a trickle. Pouring a bit of the alcohol he carried for just such occasions over the wound to clean it, Neron let out a hiss as the stinging got worse for a moment. Then blessed relief as the blood coagulated and tears in his flesh started to scab over.

  "We were lucky," Neron eventually said, keeping his glowing hand over the wound to help the process along.

  "We won," Jorry corrected, and Neron tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point. Even if it was partly due to luck, they had still won in the end.

  "See the blood around their mouths? They killed something recently," Neron pointed out before gesturing to the ratmen whose skull he'd caved in. "Whatever it was, it put up enough of a fight to injure that one."

  Only now that he wasn't fighting for his life did Neron notice a few wounds around the hind legs of the creature, hidden as they were in the dimness of the tunnel and the matting of its fur.

  Neron's initial blow had dealt some damage, sure, but it had not been enough to slow it down as much as it had been. Rather than stand on its hind legs and harass Neron with its claws, it had been forced to remain on all fours and use its jaws. Still deadly, but easier to manage.

  "They killed someone. Do you honestly care?"

  "No," Neron answered easily as the glow of his spell died. Looking over the wound, he judged it to be in decent enough shape that he could move without risking it tearing open. "We just need to be aware that it could have been much harder."

  They'd both made more than a few mistakes in that fight, short as it was. They could have died just the same as that nameless dungeon delver if they'd been a bit unluckier or hadn't prepared a game plan of battle.

  "We need to get stronger," Jorry pressed. "Get more practice. Kill more monsters. I got a level from that. Did you?"

  Neron had, placing him at level eight, but he didn't say so. Instead, he diverted the conversation.

  "I think that is it for us today," he said as he stood. "Do not want to risk any more damage to my knee."

  Retrieving his knife, he set about cutting a tiny chunk of flesh from the injured calf of the ratman with the caved in skull.

  "Fine," Jorry reluctantly agreed, slithering over. Neron placed the bloody chunk in front of the small snake and Jorry unhinged his jaw to try and swallow it. "'e 'ore 'eferu 'xt eem."

  "Do not talk with your mouth full," Neron chastised gently, wondering not for the first time how his skill worked. Jorry wasn't speaking with his mouth at all, yet it was still muffled by the food.

  And he'd been able to understand the ratmen, despite them being clearly classified as 'monsters' instead of 'beasts.'

  Resolving to talk to Medea more on the subject, Neron set about prepping his kills for transport while Jorry focused on fitting the piece of meat past his gullet.

  There was no way he'd be able to carry both of them, even if he wasn’t concerned about his knee. They were simply too bulky. Without anything in the tunnel that could be used to make a littler or platform, Neron debated internally whether he should just leave one behind. Unlike the other trainees at his Hall, he just needed to bring back one to have it count as having passed.

  Eventually deciding against it, Neron figured bringing them both was possible with a bit of improvisation. Mostly in the form of tying their sinuous tails together in a knot that left him with a pseudo hand grip.

  By the time he'd done so, Jorry had managed to swallow his food. Placing the tiny snake, now with a distended bulge below his skull, in his favorite perch on Neron's shoulder, the pair started the journey back to the entrance of the dungeon.

  Neron had a bit of trouble dragging the two bodies behind him but not enough to stop him. It took half again as long as it did before, but eventually the pair and their bloody trophies had returned to the first intersection.

  As they were passing through the tunnel that would eventually lead to a nest, however, Neron paused.

  Faintly, rebounding through the tunnel and jumbled by the distance, Neron could hear voices.

  He would have taken it to be other delvers based on the swearing and curses but mixed among them were the high-speed chittering calls of 'Killratkillinvaders' from ratmen.

  A lot of them.

  "We should go," Neron said with a grunt, picking up speed as best as he could while still dragging two carcasses behind him.

  Thankfully they made it back to the main cavern without issue, even as Neron could swear the noises of battle and the chittering of humanoid vermin grew louder behind him.

  Catching sight of Krill and his team, Neron chose to visibly perk up as he approached, noting as he did that their pile of corpses had grown much larger since he'd left. Tinder was also missing. He'd been replaced by the member he'd noticed entering a tunnel when he'd first arrived, a woman in similarly styled armor as the rest but with a pair of short swords that looked more like daggers on her large frame.

  "Hey!" Neron greeted, inflecting his voice with a tone of nervous excitement as he stepped around the pile of corpses. "I did it!"

  "That you did," Krill said with a grin. "And two of them, on top of it. Congratulations."

  "It is thanks to you guys," Neron grinned. "I just wanted to say thanks once more."

  "No problem Big Guy," Eclair sidled up to him once more, her smile a touch more genuine than before. "But you shouldn't sell yourself short. You're the one that did all the work."

  "Still, I wanted to repay the favor, at least a little," Neron added, ducking his eyes in an approximation of shyness.

  "Oh?" Krill asked, before noticing the confused look on his party member's face. "Ah, Neron, this is Pearl. Pearl, this is Neron. A friend of Calvin. We gave him some directions while you were gone."

  "Gotcha," the woman nodded and held out a hand to Neron. He responded and grasped her forearm as she did the same. "Nice to meet you. And the pipsqueak is right, taking two of them on at once is something to be proud of without armor. New to the game?"

  "Only eleven weeks," Neron nodded as he gave a shake at an angle, thumb and pinky splayed. Another Martian then. And one that didn't put on airs despite being from a well to do background. He responded the same but was careful to put less strength in his than hers. She probably had a higher Body stat than him, so it didn't matter too much, but it'd help sell the idea of a clueless newbie in over his head. "Here with Ysold's Hall. First dungeon."

  "A good haul then."

  "Thank you," Neron smiled before hoisting the bundled rat tails and looking at Krill once more. "I just wanted to give you guys a warning. My Nature, it lets me understand animals to a degree." Neron tilted his head Jorry's way by explanation, the snake watching the conversation with fascination now that he wasn't itching for a fight. "On my way back, I heard a lot of fighting. I think someone messed with the nest you warned me about and could not handle it. They were getting closer."

  "Thanks for the heads up," Krill seemed completely unconcerned but nodded in gratitude none-the-less.

  "Well..." Neron paused, feigning a bit of awkwardness as if not sure how to handle his blase response to his attempt to help. "I suppose I should be bringing these back."

  "Don't be a stranger Big Guy," Eclair waved him farewell as the others also wished him well.

  Barely had Neron turned the corner into the tunnel leading back to the entrance then Jorry spoke up.

  "And now you've gotten rid of your debt without actually doing anything."

  Neron waited a bit to make sure they were further away before answering.

  "You are getting the idea now. I did not actually help them, so I have not lost my reason for approaching in the future if I want but I did just enough that they will be hesitant to actually ask me for something."

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  "Did you plan this?"

  "No, just an opportunity that came up," Neron answered easily, seeing the light of day at the end of the tunnel. "And it only worked because the way they helped me was so minor they probably did not even consider it a real favor. Reciprocity. That is the key to relationships. People will resent you if they feel like they are giving more than they get."

  "But you didn't give anything?" Jorry asked, confused.

  "That is irrelevant. What matters is they feel like they got something. A chance to make themself look good to their boss is one thing, they would still have come out ahead in their minds. But if I had not tried to respond to their 'benevolence' then they would not have left with a good impression of me."

  "People are complicated," Jorry grumbled, laying his head on Neron's shoulder.

  "Individuals are complicated," Neron denied, pausing to blow out his lantern now that they were approaching daylight again. "People are simple."

  Barely had he left the dim light of the dungeon, not even enough time to give his eyes time to adjust to the midday light, then he heard a cantankerous voice call out his name.

  "Don't just stand there blinking stupidly. Get yer ass over here boy!"

  Without letting out the sigh of exasperation he felt, Neron nodded and began to drag his two victims in the vague direction of Furu's voice and where he remembered the old man had set up his disassembly outpost. He moved slowly enough that he wouldn't risk running into anyone while his eyesight adjusted.

  "Took yer sweet time," the former adventurer grumbled as he ceased to be a messy blur in Neron's vision. "Next time look into yer light, close one eye then leave. A good adventurer never loses their senses."

  Neron simply nodded, dropping his victims on the pile and grabbing the apron from a hook on the improvised disassembly station. As he did, he caught sight of Clarence giving him a helpless smile as he reached to take the reinforced staff. Ysold looked over the ratmen he'd brought for a moment before meeting his gaze.

  "Good job, trainee."

  "Don't coddle him," Furu chastised his daughter. "It's barely acceptable at best. An hour? For two ratmen?" Furu spat to the side even as he grabbed one of them and laid it out on the table in front of him, slicing the tail with contemptuous ease. "At least you didn't ruin them, like some of these idiots."

  "Thank you," Neron nodded to both the Hall Leader and the old man. That was as close to a compliment as he'd likely ever receive from the man. Grabbing the other ratman, he looked at Jorry. "You want to go explore?"

  "Nah," the tiny serpent refused. "I'm going to take a nap."

  Putting his words into practice, Jorry slithered from Neron's arm to the table, then the ground where he found an out-of-the-way rock in the sun. Curling up, it took only a few moments for the serpent to fall asleep, still digesting the noticeable bulge of food in its gullet.

  Neron, meanwhile, got to work.

  Laying out the ratman on the table, he set about stripping it of anything valuable. He'd done it a dozen times before and his hand was steady, but he wasn't so practiced that he could let his focus completely wander unless he wanted to incur Furu's ire.

  The old man managed to skin and dismember four in the time it took Neron to do one but, excepting a disgruntled look at Neron's work, he didn't say anything.

  Falling into a steady rhythm, Neron let his mind wander slightly as he kept his ears to the ground in case anything of interest came up. Most of the chaperones kept themselves occupied by relaxing in the warm autumn sun, chatting quietly, and a few had set up various games of dice. Occasionally, a delver would return every few minutes with a corpse in tow and Neron would notice the exchange of coins amidst grumbles and grins.

  Eventually that slowed to a stop within the hour as fewer and fewer trainees emerged. Neron hadn't given it much thought at first, simply believing they needed to go deeper into the dungeon to find prey, but as the minutes ticked by it became apparent that something had unsettled the chaperones.

  It eventually came to a head when twenty minutes went by without anyone emerging.

  "Think a Rogue wandered in?" Neron didn't know the woman who asked it, but it was easy to guess she was from one of the higher-class Halls by the way others seemed to defer to her.

  "Too close to the city," Ysold denied easily, but her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was frowning.

  "Cave in?" Another asked and received denials from more than one trainer.

  "I checked the integrity earlier this morning," answered a man rolling a dagger across his knuckles. "The first sweep did a good job with Sculpt. Nothing below the third Step can do enough damage."

  A few more threw out theories on the abnormality and were shot down in turn.

  This was, by everyone's reckoning, a simple ratman dungeon. One that would appear every few years. The only item of note was that it was relatively close to the city. As far as these things went, at least.

  There also wasn't anything odd with the cleansing itself, as some of the people here had taken part in the two initial sweeps to destabilize the dungeon's Spirit. All that was left were for the low level ratmen to be killed one final time and it would dissipate, scattering them to the wind and away from the city.

  "If nobody comes out in ten minutes, I'll check it out," Calvin eventually said, stopping the discussion for the moment. He, of the chaperones, was the most relaxed but even he looked a bit curious.

  Neron, who had run out of bodies to process, took the opportunity to join Jorry on his rock and drink from his water skin. Seeing the serpent's look, he poured a bit into a divot on the stone.

  "Hey," the snake started as his tongue flickered in and out on the water. "Just realized something."

  "Yes?"

  "You could hear those ratmen."

  "I could."

  "Did you understand them?"

  "I did," Neron answered, wondering where the questions were leading. "They did not say anything of substance. The same as the mice or rats we've hunted before. If any of them had a Self, it was gone because of the cleansing."

  "But they're not the same," Jorry denied. "They're monsters."

  Neron paused, waterskin halfway to his lips as he remembered the idle thoughts he had before.

  That's right. His skill, The Nest, let him speak to 'Beasts' specifically. Monsters were not animals, at least how this world classified them. They were creatures whose Spirits let them use magic, either consciously or unconsciously. He'd been able to hear his sister's skill because it was a separate creature in the shape of a beast, even if it lacked a physical body.

  No. That was simply the assumption they'd made, unable to test it on a different summoning skill at the time.

  That was the trick, wasn't it? His assumption. His beliefs.

  …That's why there existed a Step 0 before one gained their first Nature skill.

  Really, he knew very little about his skill. It was still level one, despite it being weeks. Medea had assured him that while most skills reached level ten relatively easily, others had more specific conditions.

  He'd assumed it was due to his not getting used to his new tongue but that couldn't be it. He didn't even notice the change anymore, having learned to contort it in such a way that he enunciated without even a lisp.

  ...Or it couldn't be the only reason, but maybe it was part of the reason. Maybe he needed to use it like an actual snake.

  The entire reason snakes flickered their tongue was because they had an organ in their mouth, the Jacobson organ, that translated the particles they gathered from the air into information their brains could parse. It was a superior version of taste and smell combined that let snakes gather an enormous amount of information from the air or anything they lick. Enough to supplement their average eyesight.

  Neron had been waiting till he could gain the Jacobson organ before he started flickering his tongue regularly, as there was no point otherwise and would only serve to alienate him. Most cultures had certain preconceived notions of snakes and that translated to a certain level of discrimination, conscious or not, about people who exhibited 'snake-like' behavior.

  Concentrating, he stuck out his tongue.

  It reached well beyond the limits of his nose and he could see the forked prongs at the end. Attempting to flicker it in the air, Neron couldn't help compare his movement to that of a baby trying to move its arms, flailing about ungracefully.

  "What are you doing?" Jorry asked, his befuddlement clear. He'd asked a simple question and now this human was doing unspeakable acts with his tongue.

  "Apologies," Neron said, retracting his tongue. This was not the place to experiment. "I had an idea about my skill. To answer your question, I believe my skill, which is based on my Nature, uses my personal biases about what constitutes a 'Beast.' When I first created this character, I had no idea of the distinction of beast and monster that this world employs. I simply considered all sentient beings, animal or humanoid, as beasts."

  "Humans are beasts?" Jorry asked, perplexed by the idea. "They have that Job system, right? They don't evolve."

  "Certainly," Neron agreed, understanding the confusion of a being who wasn't familiar with actual evolutionary theory and was limited to God’s Nature. That was a very long conversation to have, so Neron simplified it. "Fundamentally, humans and other so-called 'Blessed races' that revive at Sanctuaries like players are systematically different, but that does not mean they are qualitatively different. Nothing humans do is unique to them, from physiological traits such as bipedal-ism and thumbs, to intellectual capabilities or anything spiritual. Elephants mourn their dead. Whales have a language to communicate. Corvids have educational knowledge. The only reason humans are dominant is because we developed a combination of those traits before others."

  Jorry just flicked his tongue, looking lost.

  “What… What are those animals?”

  "Corvids are another name for crows, ravens and the like. An elephant is the largest land animal in my world. Whales come in many shapes and sizes but are also large mammals that swim in the ocean. Blue Whales were the largest animals ever to exist, before they went extinct.”

  Jorry continued to look lost.

  “It does not matter at the moment. What is, is the fact that humans and other Blessed, are not special. Basically, humans are just a type of beast that is more successful than others." Neron paused, rethought that statement, and added an amendment. "Currently, at least. It is possible a sufficiently dramatic change in our environment in a short enough time frame will make our advantages detrimental instead and different beasts will become dominant."

  Current human society had protections against such a possibility, but there was every chance something would happen humanity couldn't handle. From there, who knew what manner of lifeforms would eventually appear.

  "Sooo," Jorry dragged out the word, clearly trying to find ground he was familiar with. "You can understand anyone or anything?"

  "Anything with a Spirit," Neron hypothesized. That seemed to be how this game determined sentience. Time would tell if he could communicate with plant-based monsters but if the game truly based his skill and Nature's effect off his own beliefs and assumptions then it would stand to reason he would be able to communicate with anything that could think. "Likely unbound by language either."

  He knew from his reading that certain monsters had developed their own language structures and if his skill was as absolute as he expected it, it wouldn't prevent him from communicating with said proto-civilizations.

  What a waste.

  While the ability to talk to animals and monsters could prove useful, as it had already, the ability to bypass language requirements that came with it was entirely superfluous. All players had translation software built into their characters, as well as the written language of their initial spawn location. The Nest almost certainly wouldn't even give him the ability to read other languages, real or in-game.

  …Or maybe it would on an individual level? What about physical languages like sign language? Or theoretical languages that did not have vocal components and only communicated through writing?

  "So anything, then," Jorry stated with finality, tearing Neron from his hypothesizing. "You could-"

  The serpent was cut off by one of the chaperones near the entrance alerting everyone that someone was approaching.

  Neron didn't rise as some of the others did, but he did turn his attention to the dungeon's entrance with everyone else. It was only a half minute wait before the pair of dungeon delvers emerged, blinking the light of the sun from their eyes.

  It was Fallon and Polo, the latter leaning heavily on the former.

  Now mildly curious, Neron looked over his fellow trainees in more detail, noticing that the would-be merchant was no longer carrying his spear even though his shield remained fastened to his arm.

  One of his legs had been savagely mauled, blood stains still fresh on his torn pants. The wound had been closed enough to no longer bleed, probably thanks to a judicial application of Scab, but something that large and deep wouldn't be healed by the basic spell.

  Fallon, in contrast, was in better shape. He still held one of his hatchets, its edge dripping with fresh crimson, and the other was looped into his belt while he half carried Polo.

  "What happened," Ysold asked, pushing her way through the other trainers. They let her without much fuss given they were her trainees but there were still looks exchanged behind her back.

  "Something riled them up." Fallon grunted out an answer as he handed Polo to Clarence with a grateful look. "Every ratman in the place rushed toward the staging area."

  "They’re working together? Coordinated?"

  "We don't think so," Fallon answered another of the trainers as he sat down, pouring water onto his face to wipe away the sweat and blood. "Closest we can tell is something set them off. The closest nest reached the chamber first, then the second and so on. If they were coordinating they would have come all at once and we'd have all died."

  "They're still operating by instinct, so the boss didn't re-spawn. And if they came from different tunnels then it's not a Rogue," Calvin concluded, crossing his arms as he came to a decision. "Probably some instinct left over from the boss's initial evolution. Let the trainees deal with it then."

  "Yeah."

  "Probably for the best."

  "Should teach them a thing or two."

  "I got twenty copper on half dying."

  "I'll take that action."

  "Thirty on only a quarter making it back."

  "Nah, if they're all rushing toward the entrance then those in tunnels beyond the nests will be fine. I bet only a third will die."

  With their concerns assuaged, the various chaperones relaxed and went back to loitering around, exchanging jokes or returning to their activities.

  "They don't care at all, do they?" Jorry asked. It didn't sound like he particularly cared about the trainees either, but was curious about the incongruous behavior of the chaperones. "What if everyone dies?"

  "Then they will just finish the purge of the remaining ratmen themselves," Neron answered, getting to his feet and wiping the dirt from his butt. "It is not that they do not care what happens at all, just that certain outcomes are acceptable and others are not. A Rogue monster could be dangerous to any of them, depending on how strong it is. Or if a boss was missed they would need to cleanse the dungeon at least one more time, maybe two if they are slow in killing it and it stabilizes the dungeon's Spirit. Since they were hired to destroy the dungeon, that would look bad for them. And to them, that potential danger to themselves or their optics is a concern. The lives of low-level trainees are not."

  "Shouldn't they be taking advantage of the chaos?"

  It took a moment for Neron to understand what exactly Jorry wasn't understanding.

  He probably thought the trainers were wasting an opportunity to put the trainees in their debt and increase their reputation with the other chaperones.

  Should Neron be proud the snake had seen the chaos as opportunity while others were worried?

  "Most people are not like me," Neron corrected, feeling like he'd accidentally given the tiny serpent a warped view of people. "They are perfectly happy just living their life without schemes or deeper plans.”

  “But how will they grow stronger if they don’t take all opportunities?”

  “It is not like I take every one I think of either,” Neron pointed out blandly. Indeed, if he truly wanted to maximize… everything, really, he’d be using his sister’s wealth and Medea’s expertise to get a leg up on the competition. It wasn’t needed, so he didn’t. “Theirs is a perfectly valid way of living life. Besides, their goals for this expedition are different from ours, as is their standing."

  "Standing?"

  "Think of them standing on a hill, while we are at the bottom," Neron explained. "We only see the hill, but they can see beyond. Our goal is to get to the top of the hill, theirs is to get to a bigger hill in the distance."

  "So they're better than us?" Jorry's tongue flickered and his tone radiated displeasure.

  "No," Neron answered easily. "They might be stronger, see farther, or even know more than us, but nothing is ever qualitatively better than anything else, least of all people. Being at the top of the hill might increase their range of vision, but they miss the details we see from the valley. You saw an opportunity they missed or ignored. This is why, whether you are at the bottom of the hill, the top, or flying over it, you need to think about what other people see. Only then can you understand them."

  Jorry didn't say anything more and Neron let him remunerate on his words as his fellow trainees finished answering questions from various chaperones.

  "Are you guys going to be alright?" Neron asked once they were left alone.

  "I'm fine," Fallon grunted, taking another gulp of his water-skin.

  "I will be as soon as someone heals me," Polo griped, looking at Clarence, who'd also approached when Ysold backed off.

  "I could," the trainer said with a grin. "But if I do, you'll have failed, you know?"

  "We finished before the whole thing started," Polo protested, untying a pouch from his belt and tossing it at the trainer. Clarence opened it with ease and poured out the tips of four large rat tails. "Now get to the healing. This fucking stings."

  "Players," Fallon sighed out the word like it was a curse as he rolled his eyes.

  "Do you know what set them off?" Neron asked the Native as Clarence started casting a more powerful healing spell. "Things were fine when I was there."

  Actually, now that he thought of it, perhaps that wasn't true. Perhaps the scuffle he'd used as an opportunity to repay Krill and the rest had been a precursor. Even if it wasn't, Neron could use it as such to magnify said warning's importance retroactively, if he wished.

  "Like I told everyone else, we have no fucking clue," Fallon grunted in displeasure. "Not that it stopped half the idiots in the dungeon thinking it was something we did. If Greck and Invild weren't holding a nest back themselves they'd have stabbed us in the back at the first opportunity."

  "Between last time's flood, the fire the time before that, and the cave in the time before that one," Clarence chuckled as he cast his spell, much to Polo's relief. "I am honestly shocked nobody's gotten into a fight this time." Looking at all three of them in turn, he made his point perfectly clear. "Every other Hall plays up our reputation. Know why?"

  "Because they want us to fight," Neron answered easily. "'Law of the Wild,' right? Practice for real dungeon runs."

  "There's always one group," Clarence nodded. "They tell their trainees not to start anything then remind them to be wary of this or that Hall because they have a reputation as thugs. Or they are unlucky. Or they try to pull something. Grayl's Hall had a reputation as thieves before us. And Kadieux's were a bunch of berserkers."

  "But why try and start fights?" Polo asked, hesitantly testing his leg for any remaining pain. "Dungeons are dangerous. If the explorers don't work together then everyone might die."

  "Who do you think goes into wild dungeons?"

  "Players?" Polo answered the trainer's question hesitantly.

  "Explorers," Fallon answered more confidently.

  Clarence looked to Neron to see if he had a different answer.

  "People who want something," Neron said simply. "And will use violence to get it."

  "Closer," Clarence explained. "It's more specific than that. It's people who want power. Levels. Experience. And what gives the most experience?"

  "The boss," Polo sighed. "So they fight over who gets to kill it? Same as every other game."

  "No," Neron denied, having studied this subject recently. "It is not just the boss. It is any being with a developed Self. The boss, any elite, Rogue monsters, and other people. They all give more experience than any comparable monster or beast."

  "The most efficient way to increase one's level is to kill other people," Clarence stated grimly. "In the city we have guards, training Halls, and guilds. Out there? There's none of that."

  "But what's to stop me from reporting someone for killing me once I respawn?"

  "Use your brain," Fallon sighed at Polo's ignorance. "How will the guards know you didn't start things? Or that you didn't just die cause you're a moron and are blaming someone else?"

  "You're right that we need to work together," Clarence soothed Polo's pride slightly. "If we don't the Sanctuaries will be destroyed and we'll be exterminated. Civilization, laws, give us that. Killing, theft, violence, it's all illegal in cities and towns. But we cannot enforce laws where we cannot go."

  Neron could understand Polo's struggle with what the Natives considered common sense. It wasn't even that he was ignorant of human's danger to other humans. Or the 'Blessed races' in this case.

  It was simply the fact that Polo was trying to apply real world logic to a game world. Their world was one without monsters and magic. Humans were everywhere, the undisputed dominant species of their solar system.

  But here? You just needed to look around a bit to realize the Blessed weren’t dominant. Ruins and traces of civilizations past were everywhere. Some still bore marks of their fall. And most of those marks were not from humanoid hands.

  It didn't matter that ancient civilizations once dominated the continent, they certainly didn't any more. Something had destroyed that civilization. The people of this world were very aware of how fragile their civilization was.

  Some of the longer lived species were only a few generations removed from the Woe.

  "Better you get used to the Law of the Wild now. A death now is just embarrassing instead of crippling," Clarence said, wiping his hands of Polo's dried blood.

  "I don't know," Claudia teased as she poked her head over the trainer's shoulder. "The only thing more embarrassing than dying to a ratman would be dying to a literal rat."

  While both Fallon and Polo were startled at her sudden appearance, and Neron remained unfazed by his sister's minor prank as he'd heard the screams getting closer, it was Clarence whose reaction was the most dramatic.

  He practically fell over himself in his hurry to stumble away and turn around.

  "Clclclcl- Claudia," Clarence stuttered out, going very pale. "Welcome. What, ah, what brings you here?"

  "Oh?" The blue skinned woman grinned as the trainer took a few steps back. "Do I need a reason to be anywhere?"

  "No!" Clarence squeaked out a touch too loud, drawing the attention of the other trainers but his eyes were just for the recent arrival. "No. I don't mean anything like that. Just... Ysold is over there. If, if you're looking for her."

  "I know," Claudia's grin was positively shark-like as she stepped closer to the trembling man. The cute squirrel spirit on her shoulder chittered soundlessly in excitement with its masters. Well, to everyone else. Its wails of agony were a constant to Neron. A touch annoying, if he were honest. "Octavia's with her. I'm not here for her though."

  "You're-You're not?"

  Neron watched the little by-play with curiosity. While he'd known his youngest sister had something of a reputation, he'd never seen a hint of this... sadism before. She looked like she was genuinely enjoying the fear she inspired.

  Interesting.

  Claudia must have caught his look out of the corner of her eye. From one moment to the next her entire body language shifted, going from predatory to a casual passivity in an eye blink.

  "I'm just here to say hi," she said with a gentle smile that wasn't fooling anyone. Then she turned to Neron with that same smile. "Octavia finished that project you gave her and we need to drop it off before we log off for a while."

  "That was much faster than I expected," Neron admitted honestly.

  "Magic~" Claudia grinned, wiggling her fingers mischievously.

  "You... know each other?" It was hard to describe the look on Clarence's face with words that weren't synonymous with fear, confusion, or maybe constipation.

  "Yeah," Neron decided it was best to play this off as casually as possible. "Fallon, Polo, this is my sister Claudia. You clearly know Clarence but these are my fellow trainees."

  For an instant, and only noticeable because he was familiar with her, Neron saw a look come over Claudia's face. One he couldn't quite name. But it was gone in an instant and her usual smile was back.

  "A pleasure," she said, dipping her head in acknowledgement.

  "Um," Polo cleared his throat lightly, eyeing his nervous trainer, Neron and the strange woman in turn. "You too?"

  "Don't mind him," Fallon said, stepping forward with a smile. "I'm Fallon, a friend of your brothers."

  "A... friend?"

  Neron almost smiled at his sister's minute hiccup between words. Fallon saw a pretty girl and an opportunity. He decided not to waste it. Neron could almost appreciate such a mentality with his recent discussion with Jorry.

  It was just the opportunity he saw was a trap.

  Neron was friendly with pretty much anyone. It was easier to attract flies with honey than vinegar, so there was no reason not to be.

  Fallon probably did consider them friends, even if only tangentially, and was just using a minor exaggeration to get closer to the beautiful woman. The beautiful woman who knew how many friends her brother had.

  Exactly one.

  And only because she'd been with him since he was young, dumb, and full of cum. Much like Fallon.

  Poor bastard. His hormones had clearly taken over his brain. This is why nobody should be considered an adult till twenty five.

  It wasn’t that he wasn’t smart or his brain wasn’t developed, but rather the impulse control wasn’t there and that came with a corresponding tendency to overlook details. Otherwise he'd have recognized that Neron had introduced them as 'fellow trainees' rather than friends.

  Then again, perhaps it wasn’t an age factor at all. Neron often underestimated how oblivious some people could be.

  Especially when confronted with an attractive member of their desired sex.

  "Yeah," Fallon nodded, completely oblivious to Claudia's and Neron's amusement, or Clarence's poorly concealed nervousness. "He's really shaped up, you know. Couldn't throw a punch when he first joined. Now he's even managed to tussle with me in hand to hand. Still has work to do, ya know, but he's getting better. Even went into the dungeon by himself. He could use some work with weapons, but he's not bad. For a Player. But, like I said, he's getting there. I'm planning on going to a higher level Hall and I think he should to. Talent, that's what it is. I think we should stick together and go far, ya know? Maybe Olon's. Or..."

  Oh Void. It wasn't stopping.

  Neron's initial sense of approval at Fallon's method of attack, complimenting something your target is favorable toward, slowly transformed into a morbid curiosity as he continued to speak before it turned to horror as he realized Fallon was just rambling.

  Despite being in his early twenties, looking and talking like a thug, Fallon was nervous talking to a pretty girl. If he'd ever done more than lightly kiss or had a partner that lasted more than a week, Neron would eat his shirt.

  And yet the surprising thing was that Claudia was just letting it happen.

  Even if she wasn't as blunt as her sister, she'd never failed in shutting down unwanted advances in the past. Neron also knew Fallon wasn't really her type due to how little care the other students had about talking around the maintenance staff.

  That begged the question, why was she just standing there letting him ramble awkwardly at her?

  It was only because he was watching her instead of the ongoing shipwreck that he caught the flicker in her eyes.

  Ah.

  That...

  Hmm. This would need to be handled delicately.

  "...So the tunnels were too tight for us to go together, but I think with the right formation all of us might have-!"

  Thankfully for everyone's sake, particularly Fallon's, Clarence had had enough second hand embarrassment. Or he'd managed to overcome his fear.

  One of the two.

  "Look!" The trainer interrupted, pointing toward the dungeon's entrance. "Others are coming out. Might be Greck or Ingrid. Fallon, Polo, you two come with me and we'll let these two catch up."

  "Wha-?"

  "While there you can tell me how your fights went." The normally cordial man put a hand on Fallon's shoulder and squeezed. Hard. "And we can have a discussion on threat assessment. Okay?"

  Not giving his trainee the chance to talk more, Clarence half dragged the trainee away. Polo followed with an awkward wave and a 'nice meeting you.'

  There was a beat of silence as the sister squirmed under her brother’s gaze.

  "Let's take a walk." Neron eventually said. “We need to talk.”

  The look of fear in her eyes wasn’t what he wanted to see, but that too they needed to talk about.

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