“I’ll check once more.”

“Meat, greens, fruit, ration bars…”

“Water filter, folding tent, thermal sleeping bags, cold box, med kit, night-vision draughts, gas test powder, whetstone…”

Before setting out, Alia was doing a final pass over gear and supplies.

“Alia, we’re good, right?” Gauss stood with hands on hips, a little helpless. “That’s the third pass already.”

“Let me just—hmm…” Alia squatted, pinched her chin, and let her gaze roam over the spread of items.

You couldn’t really blame her. After that first run, she had more respect—and caution—for the labyrinth. Going in well prepared was necessary. Anything can happen down there, and if you run short and have to turn back for resupply, that’s a pain.

…

They reached the west district.

This time the three traveled out with the Golden Beak Caravan—but only the three would enter the labyrinth; Golden Beak’s staff would stay outside, set up a fixed stall, buy labyrinth loot, and sell adventuring supplies.

Plenty of small houses like Golden Beak had started laying out business around the labyrinth. A labyrinth is like a rich vein—resources keep flowing, and every link in the chain can take its cut.

“Safe travels.”

As the founder’s daughter, Hailier had come to see them off. She watched the three in crisp gear—eyes lingering on Gauss—and suddenly felt a little dazed, as if she saw a version of herself from another worldline in him.

But for now, the road of the adventurer had slipped away from her. Her job was to take over the family business and, within her power, make it bigger and stronger.

Even if she couldn’t adventure anymore, she could at least keep a hand on the world’s wonder through other channels—that was a comfort.

Beside her stood a middle-aged man in indigo formalwear, wearing a kindly smile: her father, Golden Beak’s founder, Quentin. A self-made man who’d clawed up from a dockhand—his firm was a drop in Barry’s ocean, but in his own story he was a legend.

His eyes paused on the badges on their chests, finally resting on Gauss’s young face. Now he understood why his daughter had treated a former travel companion so seriously.

Maybe that headstrong “runaway” hadn’t been a bad thing: it killed an unrealistic dream and introduced her to a young talent on the rise. Could this be a chance for their family to ascend? He smelled it.

“Hailier, keep in close touch with your friend,” he said gravely as the caravan and the three dwindled in the distance.

Hailier, still waving, glanced at him oddly. “Of course.”

Odd, how fast his attitude had flipped. On the way here he’d fretted about her going out to see a male friend; now—one meeting later—he’d done a full one-eighty.

Sun spilled from the west district’s tall clocktower, slanting over the three.

Bong—

The deep bell rolled across the city.

At the head of the convoy, the three spoke quietly.

“This time our goal is to reach the third level.”

Setting a small goal before entering helped with focus. And unlike last time, they’d also taken a few labyrinth commissions. Word was the Adventurers’ Guild was building a lodge inside; before long, taking and turning in jobs would be quicker.

Gauss’s team was now a bronze two-star squad—their recent flurry of jobs had finally ticked the rank up.

In truth, their fighting strength was a bit much for two-star—especially Gauss. Even he didn’t quite know what bracket he fell into now; with every buff stacked, a Level 3 wouldn’t stand a chance—at least compared to Quake’s sword and the sorceress in Iron Arm’s crew. Level 4s? He hadn’t crossed blades with one yet.

And peer fights swing with class, skills, and counters; only real combat tells.

Clip-clop—

The caravan rolled into the surface camp. Not much time had passed since their last visit, but the grounds and facilities had changed drastically.

The roads were no longer mud—they’d been neatly paved in dressed stone. Two- and three-story brick buildings were sprouting like mushrooms after rain. The crowds—adventurers and every trade under the sun—had grown by the day.

Fortunately, the grounds had expanded several rings; rather than crowded, the place felt cleaner and more orderly. “Camp” no longer fit—it was a tidy little town.

“Quite a change.”

Gauss took it in with a soft sigh. Even back in his previous life, this build-out would have been fast.

The world’s resources were distributed… unevenly. All strength pooled wherever adventure lay; travel a little into farm country, and it was back to the past.

He stepped on close-fitted flags—so many stones, cut so tight; there had to be magic in the work. Off at the edge, a few brown-robed mages waved staves and tamped the soil firm.

“I heard they hired specialized construction mages,” Alia said, pointing to a tower rising at the perimeter. “City Hall, the Guild, and the Association are building a defense tower—to guard against monsters that might break out of the labyrinth or come in from outside.”

Her eyes roamed the grounds; as a Level 2 druid she felt how unnatural the place was—too much magic force poured into the ground, like dumping fertilizer on barren soil. And all these outsiders brought not just prosperity, but disorder.

She spotted big men with gang badges prowling alleys. Ordinary thugs wouldn’t dare touch formal professionals; their pressure fell on porters, laborers, the low paid.

Gauss lowered his gaze and sighed inwardly. That, too, was everywhere.

“Come on—time to go in.”

As a 3+2+2 lineup, the three didn’t look shabby walking the “camp-town.” People stepped out of their way without thinking.

Near the entrance, the number of professionals grew. Down the stairs, the first level’s entry hall had changed as much as the surface: shops everywhere—baths, food, beds—prices far above the city’s. Given the risk and cost—a single shift below could wipe them out—markups made sense.

Gauss opened his map. Last time’s progress was still marked—but the labyrinth changed constantly, was still “growing,” and the stairs down kept moving, so the map was reference at best.

“Let’s spend a day on the first level,” he said, scanning the room.

They had come to reach the third level, but he wasn’t rushing the stairs. He wanted a day on the safe floor—for three reasons: personally, his kills sat at 1,935—just a few dozen shy of another bump—and he needed to bed in the White Wand.

Second, Alia had only just hit Level 2; she needed hands-on time. Third, team cohesion. first level fodder made perfect warmups—and there were plenty of his favorites: goblins. The second level had fewer, in his experience.

Neither Alia nor Serandur objected; they’d already agreed before coming in.

“Master Gauss!”

As they were about to take a turn around the hall and head out, a few young voices called from behind. Gauss turned.

“Remember us?” the broad-shouldered shieldman blurted. “You saved us the other day.”

“Oh—it’s you.” Gauss nodded, eyes flicking to the man’s legs—healed now. “Heading back in?”

He’d liked this crew well enough. From a god’s-eye view he’d been right there; but at the time they hadn’t known he was watching. In that emergency, the three could have ditched their wounded shield and escaped. They hadn’t. They’d huddled him, keeping him safe.

“Yeah—but we’re staying close to the hall this time. We’ll gather plants, animals, insects—some shops hire for that,” their captain said. “The pay’s not much—but it’s something.”

“Smart,” Gauss nodded. If you don’t have the strength, working the margins for steady coin is a good line.

“Good luck, then.”

They parted, and the three set out.

…

“Caw—gob, gob!”

Echo the raven wheeled back, croaking the same clipped syllables. Since Alia’s rise to Level 2, Ulfen and Echo had both improved: Ulfen’s body was tougher; Echo a shade smarter—smart enough to mimic a few human sounds.

“Gob” meant he’d found goblins—enough that even Gauss, without druidic speech, could get the intel.

At the word “goblin,” Gauss’s face lit despite himself. “Lead on, Echo.”

Alia and Serandur exchanged a glance. They didn’t say it, but Gauss’s enthusiasm for goblins baffled them. It wasn’t hatred; it felt more like… a hobby.

Odd as that sounded, that’s how it felt. The shared realization warmed the two of them to each other.

Soon Echo led them to a ruin: a dozen goblins sat by a fire, roasting beetle-things the size of a sink—slow bugs with many legs; bottom-tier food for many monsters.

Gauss had killed them before; they hadn’t added an entry.

Serandur blessed Gauss—and Gauss charged. Against a dozen goblins, no more prep was needed; a token blessing was already giving the team too much face.

Zip!

Gauss closed; the goblins saw him, grabbed weapons, scrambled up. He raised the White Wand.

“Magic Missile!”

Five cerulean orbs slid into a ring before him.

Boom!!

They locked on in an instant and lashed out together.

Thud!

Missiles punched through soft bodies; before the goblins knew it, half were gone. Alia, at a distance, blinked.

Gauss had mentioned the wand—but seeing was believing. She’d thought she would be the one with the big change. Not quite; Gauss was still pulling ahead.

Two rounds later, two goblins were left, running. Gauss drew his steel longsword and flashed past; bright edges whispered. Two backs split scarlet; they fell without pain.

“Total Monsters Kill: 1,947.”

One step closer.

Alia and Serandur came up.

“So this is the White Wand? It’s gorgeous,” Alia said. “Can I hold it?”

Everyone loves something pretty—even Alia. “Sorry.”

She blinked, then looked a touch crestfallen.

“Not because I won’t—it won’t,” Gauss smiled wryly.

She followed his gaze to the wand. “The wand won’t?”

“Yes.” The White Wand simply wouldn’t let others touch it; an unseen force pushed their hands away before they could grip it.

He offered it to Alia anyway; as it neared her palms, it sprang up and drifted back to him. She tried again; the force shunted her hand aside.

It was true.

Rebuffed by a wand—and yet she was oddly pleased. Gauss hadn’t lied.

“Is this what they call a ‘spirit-bound’ weapon?” she murmured, chin rubbing. Lore said only high-grade magic gear ever birthed such souls—and only those recognized could wield them.

“I don’t know,” Gauss said. The wand resisted strangers, yes—but it hadn’t ever spoken to him; it behaved like a strong tool.

“Then don’t let anyone find out,” Alia said, eyes flicking—uneasy—toward Serandur. He was good—but… She trusted herself not to betray Gauss. With a third, she wasn’t sure.

Serandur felt her gaze and sighed inwardly. He’d wanted to divert the topic before she asked; after all, he and Gauss had already learned this in testing.

The fewer who knew, the better—even veteran teammates weren’t that close. He’d seen too much back-stabbing among humans; even blood brothers turned on treasure.

“Alright, let’s bag the loot! Don’t tell me the captain’s doing all the work?” Gauss called, already crouched.

“Coming.”

“This is money,” Gauss said, looking at the goblin spread.

Unlike their first dive, the Barry Guild had posted limited bounties on all labyrinth monsters. Each had its required bits; goblins paid fifty coppers.

Not as rich as a specific extermination, but the quantities—and anytime access—meant a tidy sum.

They stripped the field and moved on. Echo, warded in with Omni-Armor, scouted nonstop. If some adventurer mistook him for a labyrinth mob and struck, the ward held—and Echo used the time to flee.

Beyond Gauss’s wand-work, Alia, now Level 2, was testing a newly gained cornerstone—Wildshape.

She could take on the form of beasts she’d seen for hours at a time—wolf, dog, horse, bird, fish, pangolin… For now they were basic animals; as she leveled, she’d grow into stronger shapes.

She chose a wolf—a sleek silver one, a meter long—her most familiar animal and thus the easiest.

Unfortunately, wolf-Alia was weaker than Ulfen; and since she couldn’t cast while shifted (yet), her combat power actually dipped.

But Wildshape wasn’t about fighting; it was about adaptability: fly, burrow, run, swim, climb—choose the right tool for the scene.

“Blegh, blegh!” The silver wolf bit a slime’s core and spat, then paused. “Actually… it’s not that bad,” she said in human speech—then, realizing, muttered, “Right—this is a nature-energy form, not a real body…”

She padded to Gauss and tipped her head up.

“Gauss—you’ve gotten really tall.” He smiled and said nothing. Seeing a friend as an animal was odd—especially one that talked.

“Forget it—next time I’ll be a raven,” she said. Craning her neck up was too much; looking down from the air sounded better.

They practiced and culled. Gauss’s numbers ticked up.

“Total Monsters Kill: 1,970.”

“Total Monsters Kill: 1,985.”

…

“Total Monsters Kill: 1,999.”

“Total Monsters Kill: 2,000.”

With the last gray ooze falling to his sword, the compendium hit the long-awaited 2,000.

He finished off the rest—and finally took in the flurry of text.

[Total Monsters Kill: 2,000]

[Reward Unlocked: Level 2 Spell – Shaping Magic: Clay]

[Reward Unlocked: +1 Strength]

[Current Strength: 9]

[Next Milestone: 4,000 Total Monsters Kill]

Familiar heat flooded him. He shut his eyes for two seconds; muscle across his body strengthened at speed.

On the surface, little changed; under the skin, fibers packed tighter, longer, tougher.

Even spots where people don’t usually pack muscle got some. Bones drank the heat too—hardening in a few breaths to near steel.

…

When it finished, Gauss let out a breath.

What thrilled him more was the other reward—the Level 2 spell.

At the sight alone his heart picked up. He was still only Level 2; his highest spells were Level 1.

Level 2s learning a Level 2 spell was nearly impossible—and without selling gear he didn’t have the coin to buy one.

At his pace, even hitting Level 3 and being able to learn one didn’t guarantee he’d saved enough—the speed of his growth put constant pressure on funds.

Now the Monster Index dropped a Level 2 Spell in his lap—just when needed. And system spells came learned—with practice, they just worked.

With Shaping Magic: Clay in hand, the gap to a Level 3 pro was smaller than ever: the biggest edge a Level 3 caster had over a Level 2 was Level 2 spell access. Feeling out the new model, Gauss suddenly remembered another find from before.