Their losses had been heavy. That much was clear long before any report had been made. The funeral pyres were going to be unfortunately large—which was yet another logistical problem that was now Ranthia’s responsibility to figure out. She truly had underestimated how much the Commander had handled. Wood supplies, casualties, duty rosters, inventories, and more were urgently pending.

  Instead, Ranthia was in the [Healer]’s tent performing first aid. She’d been assured that the thin hide strips she was wrapping the man’s leg in were “purified” but it sure didn’t look like something that should be pressed into a wound. Not that they had much choice. A day ago, they had two viable [Healers] and one old man whose mind was barely there on a good day. Now they had one, and they were trying to make the asshole old timer useful. First aid was part of the Legion training camp, but precious few legionaries had ever put those skills to use. Somehow Ranthia’s Adventurer days had left her better prepared for dressing wounds than most of the legionaries in their base.

  And so she was dressing wounds, even as runners brought a nonstop parade of issues to her.

  Xaoc knew that Ranthia would have given a lot to be able to hide in her tent for a while. She desperately needed a chance to recenter herself. To process. She had died, not actually perished, found out she was somehow immortal, and gotten cursed with something that was surely going to kill her. She had a spear in her tent that defied the rules of her mirror images as she understood them almost as severely as her own survival had. She had met a deific being that she hadn’t even believed had existed until that moment. The Commander was dead. She had no idea how many [Analysts] they had left. She had killed one shimagu twin only to be completely outmatched by the next—she couldn’t even explain why he had let her go. And she hadn’t even gotten to look over what she had gained from her class up, because her life had become an endless pile of urgent crises and—

  The man winced weakly. Sheepishly, Ranthia carefully loosened the bandage; she’d definitely pulled that too tight. Soon she had the dressing readjusted and tied it off. Another wound that would keep. She hoped.

  “Sir! The armorers insist that their request to meet with you in private is urgent and cannot wait!” A voice called from the entrance to the [Healer]’s tent.

  Ranthia just groaned in frustrated misery.

  “Fine! By every last god and goddess… Have the Subcommander and them meet me in the Subcommander’s private tent. And return with at least four more legionaries that can handle first aid!” Ranthia snapped back at the man.

  It was more than a bit mean—they’d sought people with first aid skills more than once already—but Ranthia wasn’t going to let men and women bleed out to deal with something that believed itself to be a more ‘urgent’ problem than all of the rest!

  Godsdamnit, it really was an extremely urgent problem. The dwarf that had served as their sole supply line was dead. It had been one of the ogress’ attacks on the walls.

  “He just… suddenly grabbed us and threw us out. Started kicking smithing equipment out of the tent, and then he was gone.” One of the armorers explained, pale and covered in minor abrasions.

  Ranthia felt ready to tear her own hair out. She had no idea how they were going to resolve any of this. Their arrows were conjured by the man. Her entire supply of knives too. Even the patches on the laminar vests of almost every man and woman in the base…

  And it was all going to go away in a matter of days.

  “…Three hours of mandatory rest for all retrieval squads—and everyone else willing to join them. Then we pick the battlefield clean of anything that even might be useful.” Ranthia ordered.

  Ranthia hadn’t meant for the order to apply to her as well, but one of the few surviving [Analysts]—Cotius—had strongly urged her to take a break. The man had even used the troll twin as incentive, suggesting that she was the only one that could even counter the monster if the shimagu attacked them while they scavenged.

  The sun would be up, but it was hard to argue with the legionaries wanting a protector while they struggled with piling equipment and materials up on their makeshift sleds. Even with her images, Ranthia couldn’t be everywhere at once, she couldn’t do everything at once.

  And she was wearing herself down fast, even through her vitality she felt a weary ache that seemed to stretch through her entire being—mind, body, and soul.

  And so, she found herself restless in her tent. One of the legionaries was gleefully standing guard outside her tent. The woman, Helvia, had promised to beat “all the shit” out of anyone that wanted to disturb Ranthia and collect messages.

  Well, it wasn’t like she was going to sleep, so Ranthia decided to deal with a couple of the myriads of things that weighed on her. First, it was time to learn what [Blessed With Chaos] truly was. …It was time to check her notifications since the moment she had woken up.

  [*ding!* Congratulations! You have upgraded your third class – [Blessed With Chaos – Magic Metal]!]

  [Blessed With Chaos]. Chaos has touched your life again and again. You have beheld Xaoc in all of His glory, as few have dared. You have brought chaos to Pallos, within your own beliefs. Now venture forth and spread the blessings of chaos further than ever. +3 Free Stats, +8 Strength, +97 Dexterity, +101 Vitality, +95 Speed, +9 Mana, +57 Mana Regeneration, +54 Magic Power, +15 Magic Control.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Magic Metal Authority]!]

  [Magic Metal Authority]: In His service, you have attained Authority over your element. Make use of this second tier of affinity while you spread chaos.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Adamantium Manipulation]!]

  [Adamantium Manipulation]: You may attempt to pit your will against that which refuses to bend or break. Your efforts improve with level.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Unbreakable]!]

  [Unbreakable]: Adamantium that is under your control becomes even more resilient and less likely to be destroyed or broken. The amount of your vitality that applies to adamantium increases with level. -8888 Mana Regen Rate while adamantium is on your person.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Mine!]!]

  [Mine!]: Adamantium that you seize becomes attuned to you and is affected by your skills more readily. Improved mana efficiency per level.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Adamantium Symbiosis]!]

  [Adamantium Symbiosis]: Spend time with the adamantium that you control and gradually merge your power with the metal. Adamantium affected by this skill becomes significantly more responsive to all other skills you possess. The total volume of adamantium you can affect with this skill increases with level. Note: You may not unattune adamantium that is affected by this Skill.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Adamant Force]!]

  [Adamant Force]: Your will can apply physical force to or against the momentum of adamantium, without requiring your touch. The amount of force applicable is equal to 0.005% of your current strength per level.

  [*ding!* You have unlocked the Class Skill [Sense Adamantium]!]

  [Sense Adamantium]: Once you get in range of adamantium, you will unerringly sense exactly what direction it is in and how far away from you it is. Now go take it! Range increases with level. -3941 Mana Regen Rate.

  [*ding!* [Echoes Reflected] has leveled from 227 to level 230!]

  [*ding!* [Reflections of Reality] has leveled from 187 to level 212!]

  [*ding!* Congratulations! [She who Dances with Chaos] has leveled up to level 521! +100 Strength, +100 Dexterity, +100 Vitality, +100 Speed, +8 Mana, +8 Mana Regeneration, +5 Magic Power, +5 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +2 Mana from your element.]

  [*ding!* [Void Affinity], [Rhythmic Grace], [Void Edge], [Flowing Momentum], [Vision of the Void], [Echoes of Devastation], [Divine-Touched Identify], [Ranger’s Lore], [Submind], and [Combat Awareness] have reached level 521!]

  [*ding!* [True Grace] has leveled from 236 to 250!]

  [*ding!* Congratulations! [Blessed With Chaos] has leveled up from 8 to level 29! Per level: +3 Free Stats, +8 Strength, +97 Dexterity, +101 Vitality, +95 Speed, +9 Mana, +57 Mana Regeneration, +54 Magic Power, +15 Magic Control from your class, +1 free stat for being human, +1 Strength and +1 Magic Power from your element.]

  [*ding!* [Magic Metal Authority], [Adamantium Manipulation], [Unbreakable], and [Mine!] have leveled from 1 to level 29!]

  [*ding!* [Ranthia’s Covenant with Xaoc] has leveled from 104 to level 119!]

  [*ding!* [Fast Learner] has leveled from 276 to level 290!]

  Ranthia twitched as she went through everything. So much to unpack, but she supposed that it was best to start at the beginning.

  [Blessed With Chaos] was a bizarre class in several ways. The most obvious way was the fact that the class had basically assaulted her and forced her to take it, which barely (and only technically) saved her life. Mere heartbeats later and she would have died in the world within without ever knowing what had happened.

  The second way was just as blindingly obvious: she got a Magic Metal-aspected class that required and revolved around a metal she had been wholly unaware of right after she seized some of it for herself. Then again, that might be what the System required for the class to be offered—presumably someone that had never beheld flame couldn’t get a Fire-aspected class. Still, it wasn’t something she had personally experienced before, so it stood out as weird.

  The third way was just that the class itself was bizarre. [Adamantium Manipulation] suggested that it was a [Mage] class, though why was it Adamantium while the Authority—which skipped straight past Affinity—was for Magic Metal? In contrast, [Adamant Force] was based off of her strength and felt like a [Warrior] class skill. And why was there no [Magic Metal Conjuration] or even just [Adamantium Conjuration]? Each of her seven—er, eight—Skills seemed to be focused strangely, honestly. …Wait, how many Skills did she immediately unlock again? There were no blank slots, so it had to be eight. So why had she counted seven? She must have been more tired than she thought. Not that she was used to getting all of her Skills unlocked from the moment she took a class. Third classes worked a bit differently from the first two, apparently.

  The fourth was that the class was proving to be strangely slow to level. It was just the level 8 class up! The therizinosaurus she killed alone should have been enough to get it to level 32, let alone the handful of other shimagu she ended and her brief… whatever that had been with the troll twin! She was outside of the dead zone and in a war zone, anything that low should have leveled rapidly. …Unless the third class leveled significantly slower than the first two? Hunting’s [Artisan] third class had always barely had anything in it. Night’s third class had been a bit low too, though not as severely.

  She needed more information.

  On the Skills themselves, she was mostly pleased. [Magic Metal Authority] was a nice head start—though that probably had more to do with the fact that it was a blue class than anything. [Adamantium Manipulation]’s description suggested she was in for an uphill battle when it came to manipulating the metal to do anything, but she supposed that was what the other Skills were for. [Unbreakable] probably helped to explain how the spear had shrugged off contact with a Void-infused weapon—which was amazing if their armorers could turn the metal into knives! [Mine!]—cringeworthy name aside—probably explained how the spear had shifted with her? Maybe? It was still weird, but the Skill provided some explanation, at least. [Adamantium Symbiosis] was the most interesting Skill though, and she was eager to play with it in the future when she had more time—nothing about the Skill suggested that it was swift or conducive to how much she wanted to work through. [Adamant Force] would let her throw her future adamantium knives more effectively and, if she was lucky, might even let her retrieve them, which meant that it was exciting but not immediately practical. Same with [Sense Adamantium].

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  Her other gains—with three blatant exceptions—were fairly minimal, but aside from the farcical match that she couldn’t in good faith call a duel, she hadn’t really done much since she classed up. She killed one dinosaur while it was distracted and a handful of shimagu civilian pawns, but otherwise let herself get distracted by an opponent that never made a serious attack.

  [Echoes Reflected] got a few levels from her sloppy group battle cry. She had gotten bad about neglecting the Skill—she hadn’t actually even known she could ‘speak’ through multiple images at once, she had just kind of done it on impulse—but it was a bit embarrassing that she hadn’t really gotten much benefit out of saving it. That had been less shock and awe and more about venting her own emotional overload.

  [Reflections of Reality], her Skill that was so obstinate about leveling that it had fallen well below half the level of its class despite heavy use, had jumped twenty-five levels since her original body had been destroyed. Twenty-five! That seemed to confirm that she had been badly misusing the Skill, as far as it was concerned. She would get further into that soon, but it was interesting. Maybe the Skill would start to level more readily from there.

  A single level for [She who Dances with Chaos] and her capped Skills. Huzzah.

  [True Grace]’s jump of fourteen levels paled in comparison to [Reflections of Reality]’s gains, but those fourteen levels also strongly suggested that her Skills disliked how she had favored a single body until now. …That or [True Grace] liked her instinctive adaption of her dance to accommodate a spear. She supposed either explanation could work. Less palatable was the thought that it might have surged from her ‘dance’ with White Dove—that was not a feat she wanted to match.

  Her [Covenant]’s gains were both amazing and absolutely not surprising. Her life had been a nonstop series of extreme chaos ever since she started her class up. Xaoc’s direct intervention, White Dove in a battlefield—she was kind of dreading trying to sort through everything.

  Her thoughts on [Fast Learner] largely mirrored those on her [Covenant], so she supposed she was done with reviewing her level gains. Which meant she needed to either force herself to rest—she was plainly very tired—or confront how her life had changed.

  She was immortal. Gods and goddesses, she was immortal. She could live forever—not a likely prospect at that moment—unageing if she so chose. The war had given her grim optimism at reaching the level 768 class up. And with a few words White Dove had torn her limits away from her. The other class ups were potentially within reach: 1024, 1536, 2048, 2560, 3072, 3584… 4096.

  Fuck, no—she couldn’t go down that train of thought. She had no aspirations to become a goddess. Not that it mattered, she had no chance of living long enough for it to be a problem.

  That curse though… That was a real problem. Ranthia wasn’t entirely sure what some of White Dove’s words meant, but the key phrase was unmistakable. “When darkness falls and there are no moons to light up the night’s sky, so too shall your own sight be absent.” The moonless nights were going to render her blind. In a war zone. Her optimism at reaching level 768 had always been overshadowed by the likelihood of her death, but it seemed that—quite ironically—becoming immortal had somehow rendered her far more likely to die!

  She wanted to scream and rage about it. How had she even gotten into the situation?! [Reflections of Reality] didn’t say it was an immortality Skill! The Skill’s description appeared in her inward perception at her frustrated demand.

  [Reflections of Reality]: A Mirror image of your choice becomes your real body, while your former body becomes a mere Mirror image left where and as you were. All items on your person will be transferred, to an extent. This swap is permanent and will not be automatically reverted. Swaps become faster and range increases with level.

  Okay, fine, she was the one who made the assumption that her true body had meaning. The Skill’s description outright contradicted it, now that she read it free of her prior assumptions. It became a “mere Mirror image.” The swap was “permanent.” Her own beliefs had shackled her since she was a godsdamned child—fine.

  But how did that make her immortal?!

  Ranthia rolled around in her blankets in silent frustration—so much for trying to sleep—for a time until she finally calmed down enough for a rational thought to assert itself in her mind:

  It didn’t.

  [Reflections of Reality] wasn’t an immortality skill. She had created something interesting without meaning to. The Mirror class of her dreams had always been tremendously flawed as a concept. Shifting was so costly that she couldn’t have done it without her [Covenant]. [Mirror Spirit] was a far more absurd requirement than her chaotic knowledge had led her to believe, and she still had no idea how—beyond Xaoc’s thumb on the scale—she had achieved it. The fact that she still had [Void Affinity], the lowest tier, even with the horrific experience that shaped how she understood the concept of her own Void, spoke volumes. She had dreamt up something that she, quite likely, still shouldn’t have been able to achieve and single-mindedly pursued it without compromise. Her chaos-granted knowledge hadn’t given her enough information to realize how outlandish it was. Whether the System acknowledged her na?ve determination or Xaoc had tipped the scales, she couldn’t honestly say—though it was likely both. But ultimately, there were numerous problems she had never expected until she confronted them.

  Hunting had always been pretty clear that he thought she was misusing [Distorted Likeness]. He believed—contrary to her own efforts—that she should have known herself well enough to create images of herself without [Image Recall] or the convoluted studies that she required to build a base for her images. And if he was right… That would mean none of her Skills were an immortality Skill.

  But for her fundamental failing and misuse of what [Distorted Likeness] truly required of her. But for how it affected [Scattered Reflections]. And, finally, but for how those images were used by [Reflections of Reality]…

  …Had she become immortal completely by accident!?

  As Ranthia and the retrieval squads—plus more than a few volunteers—emerged from their more-or-less resecured base, they expected the shimagu to answer them with their own sortie. The troll twin couldn’t—gods and goddesses, she hoped that was still true—come at them while the sun was up, but the shimagu had always had a massive advantage in numbers. The grand battle that had broken out hadn’t changed that.

  Yet there was no sign. The legionaries warily began to salvage what they could. Strips of hide, a broken club, a segment from a crude iron sword, laminar and leather scavenged from one of their own deceased—gruesome things like that. A battlefield was a wondrous trove of valuable salvage, especially with their supplies cut off, but it was also a terrible reminder of the loss that accompanied every conflict.

  They piled hostile corpses that they picked over, trying to minimize the mana costs of the [Mages] that were tasked with reducing them to ash. Former allies—friends they had known for years—were reverently… piled, for the team that brought them home for their final funeral pyre. Men and women that had been so full of life so recently…

  Ranthia hated it all, but she stood with her spear and a belt filled with knives, ready to confront the inevitable shimagu aggression.

  “Sir, we have the final casualty reports.”

  The shimagu continued to ignore them. They hadn’t even gone far—their camp was just a bit further to the west. But there was no sign of them mustering. No one truly relaxed their guard, but those that needed to inevitably focused on their tasks.

  And plainly the Subcommander had decided it was safe enough to venture out himself.

  “Read it to me, I don’t want to take my eyes off the horizon.” Ranthia requested, unable to keep the note of fatigue out of her tone.

  “We have 134 survivors. The ogress twin that you slew took out eighteen [Archers] and [Mages] when she attacked our walls. Every unit suffered losses.” The Subcommander began, not bothering to unroll the scroll in his hand.

  One hundred and thirty-four… there had been just a few less than two hundred of them before the attack. The losses were—for their diminished scale—staggering.

  “With the loss of the Command Tent, we lost the Commander, four [Analysts], and one of our top [Healers]. This also destroyed our only maps of the region and irreplaceable records and information stores.”

  Along with her true body, but, yes, the loss of records was the important thing.

  “With the loss of the Blacksmithing Station, we lost the dwarven outcast, eight suits of legionary armor in varying states of repair, and about half of the equipment.”

  There was so much lost with that “dwarven outcast” that it defied their ability to even describe the impact it would have. There was a reason they were trying to scavenge the shimagu’s terrible arrows, not that those fared well after hitting stone. The arrows that were in the best condition came out of bodies.

  Past that was a litany of minor losses—tents that had been too near walls, mostly—and matching the losses to the unit, duty station, or role that they typically served. Useful information, but not anything she could do anything about at the moment. The [Analysts]—the few they had left—could come up with recommendations on how to reshuffle personnel.

  But for the moment…

  “I want a 9x9 formation ready next time we sortie. Noncombatants need to be ready to use the spear or the shield for the formation, only [Mages] wholly unsuited to formation combat are exempt, but we need to keep minimal base personnel and wall defense, of course. We’ll discuss better options once we have an opportunity. For now, head back to the base and prioritize getting some of our people rested—we’re all wearing down.” Ranthia ordered. It was impulsive, but it seemed like the best option.

  She had always hated the formations, but the legionaries needed something familiar while they recovered. She could always shake things up later—after giving it actual thought.

  Ranthia was shocked that she didn’t get awoken by another crisis when she finally slept. The shimagu continued to ignore their existence, it seemed.

  Not that they had dared to try to scavenge the tower the ogress had used. It was dangerously close to the shimagu camp, but sooner or later they needed to make an attempt. Even the stone was useful material, let alone those massive wooden wheels, the chains, and whatever gear might be around it. There was even a chance that the tower itself was stuffed with supplies—not that Ranthia had ever seen an entrance.

  But that was for another time. Ranthia was overseeing a different project.

  The gargantuan rock that had crushed the command tent was a familiar rock formation that Ranthia had seen countless times while scouting. The troll had, somehow, picked it up and thrown it into their base with precision accuracy. Even with their walls reinforced ahead of the twin’s arrival, the rock formation was a good bit taller.

  One of the legionaries had jokingly said they should make it a watchtower. Ranthia overheard and was making it a reality.

  Solid ideas were solid, even when made in jest.

  [Mages] were in the process of carefully drawing the rock deeper into the ground to keep it stable, even as other legionaries prepared rope netting to serve as ladders. The Commander might have perished with the strange metal tube that granted a longer range of vision on her person, but plenty of legionaries had exceptional eyesight.

  Plus, she had plans for the opposite side of the stone. She had already mastered how to etch the stone without it crumbling—though she declined to take [Stonecarver] when it was offered—and was painting images in her mind of what she wanted to do. How much space she needed.

  An assembly was to be held shortly.

  “You all know me. I served as an A-Ranked Adventurer—I killed monsters, I saved lives. Two rounds as a Ranger—I killed monsters, I saved lives. And then I became a War Ranger and was told that everything was going to change. But you know what? Here I stand, killing monsters and saving lives!”

  No, she had not rehearsed anything. She was speaking from the heart to the men and women that had gathered. She didn’t have a Sound classer to make her heard, but those who were stuck on the walls could learn the gist from those in attendance.

  “The shimagu are just another monster—it doesn’t matter that they stole the bodies of men! Every human, ogre, or other beast or being we free from them is a life freed from the tyranny of the monsters! Every legionary here is a veteran monster slayer just as worthy as any I have ever met! Which is why I’m proud to stand here before you.

  “Ranger Academy groomed me for command. Ranger Team 6 put me to the test. And I know each and every one of you—it’s simple to scale up! Every man and woman in this base has seen horror and faced it head on! You have overcome trials the likes of which put anything that the Ranger Academy might throw at you to shame! I declare here and now—you are no longer mere legionaries! You are among the true elite of Remus! Ranger, War Ranger, Sentinel—all of them are mere titles, and you are more than a pretty word or two! We are that which cannot be broken! The shimagu may try and try all they please, but we will endure and slay monsters!

  “I will carve the name of each of our losses into this watchtower the twin provided us. It is a monument to those we have lost—and a reminder that for every last name I carve, countless monsters have been slain! We are not losing, not to these beasts! Everyone here is equal, and every name I am forced to carve is equal—from the Commander to the lowest ranked legionary! Each of them is a hero, a slayer of monsters, and someone who fights to end a scourge!”

  Ranthia turned to the stone monument and led, not with a name, but with the symbol of the five gods.

  She knelt after doing so and heard the sounds of numerous others following suit.

  Prayer had always been something private to her. Something she never shared or discussed with anyone else. And yet, for the first time in her life, she found it appropriate to do more. After all, Xaoc wasn’t just an existence for her benefit or veneration, He had a hand in the shaping of Pallos. They were all His disciples.

  “To Xaoc, the great god of chaos. To the rest of the five great gods, and to every divine being below them. I offer this prayer. With your gazes upon us we are never alone, not truly. We are monster slayers, those who fight for life and for survival. Continue to watch us. See the chaos we wreak upon the shimagu and all else that would deny the gifts of life to others. Mere monsters that can never hope to overcome who we are, what we stand for.

  “I venerate you and carry you in my heart. You have guided me, helped me, and intervened on my behalf countless times. Every life lived is touched by chaos—among other things—and is enriched by the experiences that life grants them. I pledge to do all that I can to never require your intervention again—I and those behind me shall provide our own strength. We will make our own mark on Pallos.

  “We will not give in. For nothing is truly inevitable!”

  If anyone balked at the prayer being devoted to Xaoc primarily, with the other gods summarized so simply, no one voiced their concern. Lips moved and murmurs flowed along with Ranthia’s own, just a bit out of step from one another. Words altered. It was discordant. It was perfect.

  Something bloomed in Ranthia’s heart and mind while she led the prayer.

  The military’s order could never save them from here on. Legion dogma would only get people killed. Thus far, she had just adapted the same dogma to their situation.

  It was time to abolish it.

  These men and women had allowed her to seize command. And if she was going to command them, they wouldn’t—couldn’t—simply be another orderly Legion. They needed to evolve and become something more. The one hundred and thirty-four men and women of her base were survivors—hardened and powerful.

  Together, they would embrace chaos and use it to tear their enemies apart.

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  Nozomi Matsuoka.

  Sarah "Neila" Elkins.