Chapter: How I got into the first semi-class mercenary!
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The path was misty and humid from the morning rain, puddles soaking the dirt trail as Nico and Garrick bickered about travel directions—Nico insisting he smelled fresh wood smoke, Garrick arguing it was just burnt moss from Aurelia's last explosive stunt.
Meanwhile, Goldie padded beside Riven, tail swaying in slow rhythm as if reading the moment, and Hale carried the basket with a quiet, calculating look in his silver eyes.
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🌲 The Encounter in the Forest Trail
As the group pushed through the wet brush, they suddenly froze. Ahead of them, through the thin wisps of fog, stood Oliver and Fern.
Oliver wore a pale white Illusion Resistance Mask, blank and spectral, the kind sold in the Mysticoins shop under limited seasonal gear. His stance was guarded, but not aggressive. A slight breeze pushed aside his cloak, revealing a worn axe and his stone sword sheathed behind him.
Fern Juniper, druid of the woods, stood silently beside him, green-hooded and calm, her expression unreadable. Her gaze locked onto Aurelia's sword like a wolf watching for motion.
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⚔️ Tension Breaks
Aurelia, never one to wait, had already half-drawn her iron blade.
> "Name and rank. We don't play with masked creeps unless they're friendly and useful."
Oliver raised a gloved hand slowly, showing his palm with fingers open — a universal Traveler sign for "non-hostile."
Fern gave a nonchalant shrug, letting the leaves on her cloak ripple.
Before anyone else could escalate, Riven stepped forward.
> "Aurelia."
His voice was firm but smooth, and with a single hand gesture, he beckoned her to stand down.
She rolled her eyes but sheathed her sword with a smirk.
> "Fine. But if he turns out weird, I get to be the one to burn his tent."
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🤝 Riven's Proposal
Riven's usual sly grin curved across his lips as he approached Oliver.
> "You've survived the Stonebark Expanse, dodged Wraiths, Skeleton Archers, and imps in the night. You've done more with a stone sword than most do with an arsenal. That tells me one thing—you're worth investing in."
He stepped closer, extending his hand.
> "Join us. Not just as a body with a weapon, but as a Mercenary-Class Operative. Special tasks. High Mysticoins return. You'll get system upgrades and access to our potion reserves."
Oliver blinked behind the white mask. Fern leaned in, whispering something only he could hear—most likely reminding him he could always walk away later if needed.
Oliver scratched his brown hair awkwardly, then nodded.
> "Alright. Let's see what this… opportunity looks like."
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🔷 System Notification
> Class Obtained: Mercenary (Semi-Class)
Description: A versatile fighter-for-hire role, capable of combat flexibility, bounty tracking, and enhanced Mysticoins gain from solo or group objectives.
— Passive Skill Unlocked: Coin Pursuer
— Bonus: +10% Mysticoins from completed bounties or cleared threats
Fern gave the faintest smirk, only noticeable if one watched the subtle pull at the corner of her lips.
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🧭 Party Status – Expanded
Name Role/Class Notes
Riven Tactician/Leader Strategic mind, smirking constantly
Aurelia Blade Specialist Explosives expert, suspicious of everyone
Garrick Warrior Reliable tank, complains a lot
Nico Firebound Scout Fox demi-human, hates rain
Hale Architect/Engineer Systematic genius
Goldie Companion Beast Golden-furred, watches everyone quietly
Oliver Mercenary (New) Survivor from Stonebark, now officially onboard
Fern Druid Guide Stoic nature mage, deeply tied to the forest
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The trail ahead now widened—not just through the forest, but toward bigger goals.
With Oliver and Fern now part of the mix, Riven's unit had just grown stronger.
But with more power… came even closer attention from Lord Hibiscus.
And he was already watching.
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[Lord Hibiscus, our glorious king]
📜 Chapter Insert — The Silhouette of Lord Great Hibiscus
Amid a grand crimson-lit hall high above the mists of the world's edge—where glass towers pierced the clouds and airships moored on floating docks—the Sanctum of Scarlet Dominion stood quiet but alive with the hum of vast, unseen systems.
In the center, enthroned on a Crimson Ruby Chair, sat the elusive and controversial Lord Great Hibiscus.
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👑 Description of Lord Hibiscus
His hair flowed like red wildfire, bold and untamed with streaks of brilliant golden threads running through it—an ostentatious display of power and status.
Hidden within his locks were black patches that resembled inked burn marks, as if scorched into existence by ancient flames.
His attire was a regal mesh of silken tunics, hardened arcmetal plates, and prismatic robes, embroidered with forgotten runes from the Traveler Codex.
In his hand was a goblet of Sparkling Shimmer Water—a rare, multicolored fluid that changed flavor with every sip: lemon-honey, mint-grape, fireberry-citrus. One of the most expensive drinks in the Architect class.
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As the multicolored glint of his beverage swirled in his glass, his eyes half-lidded, clearly uninterested.
Two tall messengers in black and gold robes entered.
> "Lord Hibiscus," one began respectfully. "We've intercepted plans. **Riven's faction is mobilizing. They've recruited a new Traveler from Stonebark Expanse. Gained potion infrastructure. Possibly intending to raid your outer vaults—"
Hibiscus raised a single ringed hand, the sound of metal brushing silk as he waved the concern away.
> "Let them scheme," he said with a smooth, bemused voice. "Let them sweat, let them crawl. Struggle makes their inevitable defeat… theatrical."
He leaned back deeper into his ruby throne, tilting the shimmer-glass to his lips again.
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🦅 Overhead in the Beams
Unnoticed, tucked within the vaulted rafters, sat Demetrius, the janitor with falcon eyes—half-man, half-bird. With a broom in one hand and feathered ears perked up sharply, he listened to every word.
His yellow eyes blinked.
> So, he's not moving yet, Demetrius thought. But he's watching. Always watching...
He slowly retreated into the shadows, sweeping silently as if nothing happened.
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🟥 Closing Beat
Lord Hibiscus crossed one leg over the other, staring down at a floating holo-map of the regions below.
> "Let the children play. I'll enjoy it more… when their hope runs dry."
........
[Lava chicken!!]
As Riven led everyone within the Dwarven Village the same Village Oliver and Fern were in, Chickens clucking, Riven askes everyone a fun question what happens if you mixed Hot Lava and Raw Chicken, as no one answer, Riven presses the button and a wet chicken body appeared and real life lava pour within the chicken sizzling, Oliver flinched thinking the chicken was ash or nothingness right now.
As the sizzle of lava faded into the crackling warmth of stone and flame, the roasted scent of something… absurdly delicious hung in the Dwarven Village air. A small crowd of dwarves paused what they were doing—some setting down hammers, others holding up bushels of herbs or iron plates—as they turned toward Riven's impromptu culinary experiment.
The chicken.
The lava-cooked, crisp-skinned, golden-browned bird lay steaming on the blackened platform. And Riven, with his signature sideways grin, coolly tore off a leg and tasted it.
> "Toasty," he said simply, letting the steam rise from his lips.
Then, as casually as tossing away a snack wrapper, he flung the leg to the side.
A beat passed.
And then—cluck cluck cluck—the chickens gathered.
Dozens of them.
They pecked at the meat. At first curious, then voracious.
Chickens. Eating chicken.
Oliver stared. His illusion resistance mask couldn't hide the sheer horrified intrigue in his wide eyes.
> "Is… is that normal?" he muttered to Fern quietly.
Fern, ever the stoic, didn't answer. She just blinked slowly.
Then turned her head and jotted a single note in her herb-bound journal:
> Note: Chickens are terrifying.
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Garrick looked mildly disturbed.
Aurelia giggled with a "Ahahahaha that's quite messed up." shrug.
Nico just mumbled, "Why is everything on fire or food with you, Riven?"
Riven? He clapped his hands together and nodded approvingly.
> "Science. That's what happens when you ask the right questions."
And with that, the party continued walking into the heart of the Dwarven Village… leaving behind a bunch of cannibalistic poultry now clucking with unnerving satisfaction.