I woke up late, tangled in my sheets back in the Freelancer Guild dorm, my body sore from too much standing, too much dancing, and far too little sleep. I groaned softly and rolled onto my back, staring up at the ceiling beams of my room.

  The ball had run late. Obscenely late.

  I squinted toward the window, where pale blue morning light filtered in. Waterday. Early Waterday, judging by the angle of the sun. I had spent most of Fireday half dead trying to sleep it off, and even now my head felt thick, as if the echoes of music and laughter were still lodged somewhere between my ears.

  Clearly, nobles did not work for a living if they could afford to party until sunrise.

  With a resigned sigh, I pushed myself upright and swung my legs out of bed. My muscles protested immediately, especially my calves and lower back.

  I gathered a change of clothes and headed down the corridor toward the public baths.

  The guild baths were already busy. Steam hung thick in the air, scented with herbs and mineral salts. I greeted the alchemist soap maker with a tired smile, trading a few coins for a bar of citrus-scented soap and a small vial of restorative oil. I also restocked a few beauty products I had grown fond of, oils that made managing my hair almost effortless.

  Honestly, the ease of it still felt like cheating.

  I hesitated only a moment before adding one more item to my basket. A small potion, sealed with pale wax. The kind that suppressed the effects of my monthly cycle. Kuru had been the one to tell me it existed, though I had not tried it yet.

  If it actually worked, it would be worth its weight in gold back on Earth, I thought with a faint smile.

  I stripped, placing my clothes into one of the empty baskets, and stepped into the baths. I greeted a few women I knew by name as they passed. Sergeant Lanka was already there, half-submerged and clearly suffering from a hangover. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her posture stiff.

  “Are you all right?” I asked lightly, remembering how enthusiastically she had indulged in the open bar.

  Lanka groaned in response and sank lower into the water. For a fearless soldier with as much muscle as the Hulk, she could surprisingly act cute.

  I smiled and moved farther down the pool, fully submerging myself and letting out a slow breath as the heat soaked into my bones. The memory of the ball faded another notch, replaced by murmured conversations and the gentle slosh of water.

  That was when I spotted Lera, a former Misfit, soaking quietly nearby. The dark-skinned woman looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped, and her eyes unfocused as she stared at the water.

  “Lera, you look rough,” I said gently. “Drink too much last night?”

  She snorted. “If only I were that lucky.”

  I studied her for a moment. “Rough day, then?”

  “You could say that,” Lera muttered. “Spent half the day diggin’ for moles out in the outer fields.”

  I blinked. “Moles?”

  “Ya. Big buggers,” she said. “Keep chewin’ through the grain fields. Farmers toss a few coins our way if we clear ’em out.”

  “That sounds hard,” I said.

  “It is.” Lera leaned her head back against the stone. “Without Yon leadin’ us, former Misfits only get the work no one else wants. Ain’t strong enough for the real contracts. Ain’t stupid enough to make trouble either.”

  She hesitated, then added more quietly, “Not stupid like Vals was…”

  She trailed off, guilt flickering across her face.

  I shifted the topic gently. “Why did you join the freelancer guild instead of becoming a messenger? I remember you being quick on your feet.”

  Lera scoffed. “Need a sponsor for that. Messenger Guild doesn’t take just anyone. Couriers are worse. Too many people already in line.” She shrugged. “Freelancers’ll take anyone who can still hold a spear.”

  That made sense. Safe and reliable jobs would always have more barriers to entry.

  I nodded slowly, filing the thought away. I could already think of at least one clever merchant who might need fast, reliable runner work once certain business plans moved forward. Pizza delivery, specifically. But I would need to talk to Je’e first before saying anything.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmured.

  Lera glanced at me, curious, but too tired to ask what I meant.

  I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the water lap against my shoulders. Thoughts of business, politics, and magical research flickered through my mind, but I did not linger on them. Instead, I focused on what came next.

  Yesterday, I had agreed to meet with Raik and Kan to discuss his challenge.

  I opened my eyes, finished cleaning myself fast, then pushed myself up out of the bath and reached for my towel.

  Time to get to work.

  The VIP lounge was already lively when I arrived, filled with the low hum of conversation and the clatter of plates. I spotted our table immediately. Raik, Kan, Katar, and Ja’a were already seated.

  I ordered a tall glass of milk, a heavily caffeinated drink, and a plate of muffin-looking pastries that smelled rich with sugar. Ja’a had somehow acquired a small mountain of candied nuts and was methodically working her way through them. Kan and Raik both had tea, steam curling lazily from their cups.

  Katar, for reasons known only to him, was eating a steak. For breakfast.

  I slid into my seat and eyed his plate. “I am fairly sure that would be considered a crime in many places.”

  Katar snorted. “Meat builds strength.”

  Raik hid a smile behind his cup.

  The humor lasted all of thirty seconds before I opened the subject.

  “So,” I said, wrapping my hands around my drink. “Thirty missions and one month.”

  A month in the Contested Realm was six weeks of six days each, with every day lasting forty-two hours. Closer to two Earth months, really. The challenge sounded harder than it actually was.

  Raik nodded once. “Haro does not make idle challenges.”

  “No,” Kan agreed. “But he also did not make it impossible.”

  Ja’a leaned back in her chair, sweets forgotten for the moment. “It is still extreme. Even if we clear one mission a day, that leaves barely any room for delays, injuries, or complications.”

  Kan tapped a finger lightly against the table. “Which is why this is not a strength problem. It is an endurance and logistics problem.”

  She looked at me as if expecting agreement. I nodded.

  “I know,” Raik said. “We cannot afford to travel for single contracts. We take multiple missions per trip. Cluster them. Comb through the surrounding villages instead of returning to Hano every time.”

  “That works if they are extermination jobs,” Katar said confidently, slicing into his steak. “Beasts, pests, and bandits. We can handle all of that.”

  Raik nodded. “Extermination missions would be ideal. More predictable.”

  Ja’a frowned. “Predictable until they are not. Taking something dangerous just because it is convenient is how people get killed. Burnout is also a risk. Thirty-six days without rest is a good way to make mistakes.”

  The table went quiet for a moment.

  I took a sip of my drink, feeling the caffeine hit almost immediately. “Which is why we cannot do this with just the five of us.”

  All eyes turned to me.

  “Ja’a is not exactly frontline material,” I continued, “and I am not much better. We need more people.”

  “Aren’t you selling yourself short?” Ja’a asked. “Your soul strength is higher than Kan’s. Twelve SB to her ten.”

  Raik blinked. “What is this SB you are talking about?”

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  “Oh!” Ja’a said brightly. “Didn’t I tell you? Alice and I figured out that all babies start with roughly the same soul strength, so we use the soul of a baby as a standard unit. Soul Baby, SB for short.”

  “It is still just a theory,” I corrected. “It needs more confirmation.”

  “And soul strength does not always mean combat strength,” Katar added calmly.

  “You only say that because you have the weakest soul here, Mister Five SB,” Ja’a said, sticking out her tongue at him, completely ignoring me.

  Katar glared at her.

  Kan sighed. “I actually agree with Katar. If he is only five times the soul of a babe and Alice is twelve, that alone proves soul strength does not directly translate to combat ability. He killed a spider matriarch that the two of us together could not hurt.”

  “It affects stamina, Soulbook powers, cooldowns, and mana pools,” Ja’a argued. “It is useful. Katar is just a combat freak.”

  Raik leaned forward, interested. “How much do I have, by your measurement?”

  “Eighteen SB.”

  “Nice,” he grinned.

  “Back to the topic,” I said firmly. “We need more people. A frontline, a support, and a scout.”

  Kan nodded slowly. “Agreed.”

  “I can scout,” Ja’a added. “My Soulseer ability works well at long range, at least for detecting monsters.”

  Katar frowned. “More people will slow things down.”

  “Only if they are the wrong people,” I replied.

  Ja’a tilted her head. “And where do you suggest we find them on such short notice?”

  “I already have a few people in mind,” I said, smiling.

  I rested my elbows on the table. “Vena. Calr. And Yon.”

  Raik interrupted immediately. “Yon is already a sergeant.”

  I blinked. “And?”

  “He outranks this challenge,” Raik continued. “If he participates, Haro would invalidate the entire thing.”

  That was… annoying, but fair.

  “Then not Yon,” I said after a beat. “But one of the former Misfits. Shingo.”

  Raik raised an eyebrow. “You are thinking of the half-giant boy.”

  “Yes. He is reliable,” I said. “Not as strong as Yon, but steady and disciplined. And the Misfits have been disbanded, so you should not have trouble recruiting from them.”

  Kan nodded. “Shingo would be good for defense and endurance. I have worked with him; he always follows orders without complaint.”

  Katar crossed his arms. “That covers the frontline. What about Calr?” He frowned. “He is weak.”

  I met his gaze without flinching. “Well. He won’t be on the front line, that’s for sure.”

  “That does not make him less weak,” Katar said flatly.

  “It makes him ranged damage and tactical support,” I replied, feeling obligated to defend my suggestion. “Yon used him as a lookout more than once because he notices things other people miss.”

  Ja’a chimed in, nodding. “He is smarter than he looks. I spent a whole day with him while studying children’s souls. He is remarkably perceptive.”

  Katar sighed. “Fine. But if Calr gets himself killed, that is on you.”

  “I will personally test him before I agree to take him with us,” Raik said.

  “Agreed,” I nodded.

  Katar grunted but did not argue further.

  “And Vena,” I continued. “No one is going to object to her, right?”

  On that, there was no disagreement.

  “Cleric support would be a major advantage,” Raik said. “Healing would make everything less dangerous.”

  Ja’a smiled. “She would be a boon. If she agrees to join us, a healer like her is never short on choice. She could probably tag along with the Twenty-man Army team and never be short on work.”

  I smiled to myself. I already knew how to convince her.

  The shape of the team was starting to form.

  We found Shingo and Calr in one of the outer training yards, far from the noise of the main guild halls. The space was mostly dirt and worn stone, scarred by years of use. Someone had rigged a small tree log to a pull-up bar using thick ropes. Calr stood to one side, bracing his feet as he dragged the log back by hand, then released it so it swung hard toward Shingo.

  Shingo met the impact head-on, parrying the swinging log with a shield nearly as tall as I was.

  Calr was already breathing hard just from hauling the weight back and forth. Sweat ran down his temple, his arms trembling with effort. Shingo, by contrast, looked almost bored, as if he would have preferred the log to be heavier.

  Shingo noticed us first. He straightened immediately, resting the shield against his shoulder.

  “Shingo,” I said, raising a hand in greeting.

  He nodded once in return.

  I turned to Calr. “He does not talk much, does he?”

  Calr blinked, then hesitated, either unsure how to answer or just catching his breath. “He is mute,” he explained, still breathing hard.

  “Oh. I did not know that,” I said quickly. “I am sorry.”

  Shingo smiled faintly and shrugged.

  “Can you read lips?” I asked, unsure.

  Both of them blinked. Then Calr burst out laughing.

  “He is not deaf,” Calr said, wiping his face, his red hair sticking to his forehead. “Just mute. You can talk to him normally.”

  “And if you want answers,” he added, “it is best to frame questions so he can answer yes or no.”

  “That is good to know,” I said, flushing slightly as I glanced back at Shingo. He did not seem offended in the slightest.

  Raik stepped forward then, greeting both of them, and began explaining the challenge. Katar wandered off to examine the swinging log apparatus with interest, while Kan and Ja’a stood back, talking quietly.

  Shingo listened intently, eyes never leaving Raik’s face.

  “If you join us,” Raik said, “you will serve as the frontline. You will face monsters directly.”

  He paused. “Do you want in?”

  Shingo did not hesitate. He nodded once, firmly.

  “Good,” I said, relieved.

  Calr shifted beside him. “I would like to join as well.”

  “That depends,” Raik said calmly. “Can you actually fight?”

  “I have a short sword,” Calr replied. “And I am good with throwing knives.”

  “Then spar with me,” Raik said. “Show me.”

  It was not pretty.

  Raik did not even bother using his fire or heat magic. Despite Calr’s thrown knives, Raik closed the distance with ease and disarmed him by striking the inside of his elbow with a palm strike. Calr’s sword clattered to the ground.

  Calr exhaled slowly. “I guess that is a no, then.”

  “Wait,” I said quickly, stepping in before Raik could speak. “Answer a few questions first.”

  Calr looked at me, surprised. I met his gaze with intent.

  “Sky elemental,” I said. “How do you kill one?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Answer,” I said. “And do not hold back.”

  He nodded. “Ground it. Weighted chains with spikes. Keep the chains in contact. That should negate its lightning attacks.”

  “A nightmare beast,” I pressed.

  “Raik sets fires in four directions,” Calr replied immediately. “Remove the shadows. It dies like a horse.”

  “Trolls,” Katar said.

  “Fire,” Calr answered. “Continuous fire.”

  “A phoenix?” Raik asked.

  “Drown it,” Calr said. “Or suffocate it in a sealed space.”

  Kan hesitated, then spoke. “Agro the Nullifier.”

  That was a hard one. I had seen that name among the impossible bounties, alongside absurd monsters like the Colossus.

  Calr did not answer right away. His eyes unfocused, his attention turning inward. The silence stretched long enough that I worried we had pushed too far.

  Then he exhaled slowly. “You do not fight Agro with soul strength, bloodline powers, or miracles,” he said. “You fight him with skill. Twenty people. Fighters like Katar. Those who value weapon mastery. Rotate them until you exhaust him. Never let him isolate anyone.”

  The yard went quiet.

  Even Katar looked impressed.

  Raik studied Calr for a long moment.

  “Okey, show me your throws again. On the dummies this time.”

  Calr swallowed and nodded. He took position, his fingers tightening around a knife. One by one, he struck the targets. Every throw hit, clean and accurate… But shallow.

  Raik frowned. “Good aim. But, not enough penetration.”

  The farthest knife barely stuck in the wood.

  “I know,” Calr muttered.

  “You need a crossbow,” Raik said.

  “I cannot afford one.”

  “I can,” Raik replied without hesitation. “And I will.”

  Calr blinked. “You do not have to…”

  “I will,” Raik repeated. “If you are going to be on my team, I am investing in you.”

  That ended the discussion. I was glad Calr was going to be part of the team; I enjoyed working with him during the rat-hunting mission.

  As we walked toward the Holy Temple, the conversation shifted to money.

  “Are you willing to spend gold to make this work?” I asked Raik directly.

  “Yes.” He nodded once.

  “Smart,” I said, smiling. “Good gear is a force multiplier.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I can commit at least ten gold coins.”

  “You know that thirty missions will barely pay you back one gold coin, maybe two.”

  He grinned. “Unless we kill a dragon.”

  “We are not killing a dragon,” Ja’a and I said at the same time.

  Ja’a added, “If you need more money, I can lend you another ten. Do not get anyone killed for gold.”

  I smiled. The most money-hungry merchant I knew still valued lives more than coin.

  The Temple steps came into view soon after.

  We found Vena inside, speaking quietly with a young woman near the side hall. She excused herself as soon as she saw us.

  “Alice?” she asked. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” I said. “But something big is happening.”

  I explained the challenge, the timeline, and the team we were putting together. I did not sugarcoat the risks or the pace. When I finished, she did not hesitate.

  “I will join,” she said. “On one condition.”

  Raik inclined his head. “Name it.”

  “I will not be a backline healer,” Vena said firmly. “I need to fight. I need to face danger. I need bravery if I want to ascend to Paladin.”

  Raik shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

  That was precisely why I had been sure she would come.

  Ever since joining the guild, Vena had been treated like she was made of glass. Kept in the back. Shielded from danger. Yon and Nakera had been especially guilty of that, well-meaning but suffocating in their protectiveness.

  Raik would not care.

  He kept bringing Ja’a along, despite the girl being nearly helpless in a fight. If anything, he respected willingness more than capability.

  Relief flickered across Vena’s face, quickly replaced by determination.

  She clasped her hands together briefly, then looked at me. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  I shook my head. “You do not need to thank me. We are the ones that going to be thanking you before we are done.”

  She smiled, just a little.

  The team was coming together.

  Next step: preparation.