“Maaaaan, what a lame day!" Brad shouted. He was back at the outpost an hour’s horse ride away from the battleline. He was lounging in a plush sofa, his armor off to the side, in the common room of his party’s bunker.

The outpost was an old dwarven fortress carved into the cliff face of a tall mesa. From what Brad had heard from one of the System’s lengthy exposition drops, dwarves and giants had a friendly, if not sometimes competitive, alliance. But then the fey and dragons genocided most of the giants and wiped away the nobles five centuries ago. That buried and burned a lot of dwarven assets that were invested into the giants.

The room around him was polished marble stone, leveled filaments of shiny metal inlaid in the walls to draw intricate murals of working dwarves, a copper bar-top set against one wall with pipes running upward in a uniform fashion that ended at levers and nozzles that poured dwarven ale, and lots, and lots, and lots of pillows and seats.

Brad had a pile of them under his muscular back. He had one hand swirling around a mug filled with frosty dwarven ale. Another hand was tapping his fingers against his rock-hard abs as he rested shirtless after a long day of trench fighting. It was fun being shirtless in a body like this. It was his without having to work for it if you ignored the fact that it had belonged to the former farm boy.

Well, I do work for it now, Brad thought. It would just be a lot nicer if I could gain more power easier.

“Why is it every night I come here from fixing your mistakes, I’m to be assaulted by your man-childish cries.” Nick was behind the bar, polishing mugs that Brad had probably forgotten to clean. The Brazilian was a thin figure draped in sweats and a hoodie. He started wearing it as soon as he arrived from his tutorial after learning a low-tier spell for tailoring. “What is it now, Brad? Please enlighten me with your problems so I can show you how idiotic you’re being.”

“I only leveled up once today,” Brad said with a mock pout. “I was probably close to leveling twice, but you and everyone else was hogging up the experience.”

“Is that why you led that failed charge? To get ahead of my ‘hogging of the experience?’ How droll,” replied the Lvl 24 Great Sage Prodigy. “Do note as we grow stronger, leveling will become harder. Our experience requirements seem to multiply by a nominal value that isn’t fixed. I wager the factor of x is changing every ten levels, too. When we hit the thirties, it’ll jump again. Then the forties will be even more difficult.”

“That’s crud, man,” Brad said, pouting for real now. “It was so fast in the beginning. The tutorial took me a day and gave me ten freaking levels. Now, this war thing is starting to be a drag.”

“It’s what we signed up for when we agreed to the System and the Administrator’s terms,” said a grouchy masculine voice from around the corner. Exiting the dorm room hallways, the slouched, shuffling figure of a Lvl 21 Shadow Ninja appeared drabbed in light dark-blue and brown leathers and cloth armor that covered him from head to toe. “I should’ve read the fine print better. This is some slave shift stuff, man. Ugh...”

“You’re supposed to be on a horse by now, Jerry,” Nick said, placing down a mug with a solid clunk. He picked up another to polish. “You’re our eyes during the night.”

“It’s not fair that you guys get to hang out here, and I brave it alone with some dark vision monsters.”

“Not my fault you can shadow-jutsu up some helpful clones, dude,” Brad said. “If you were smart, you could level yourself up in the deeprock tunnels and over the flats at the same time.”

Jerry mumbled something unintelligible. Probably a cuss. Then he said, “Can I have a drink before I go?”

“No,” Brad and Nick said together.

“You guys suck.”

Jerry shuffled out sluggishly, which made Brad chuckle a little. The ninja was a real loser, complaining about everything when he could be making the most out of their new slot in life.

A few minutes and sips of ale later, the room became less of a sausage fest and more of a party party for Brad. In arrived a tall blonde hottie, a Lvl 22 Holy Sniper, and then the weakest member, a Lvl 19 Harmony Priest.

The latter was a meek mousey brunette who tended to get lost in the shuffle of battle the moment Brad looked away from her. Then when he wounded up finding her, she was almost always kneeling over a dead NPC⁠—err, denizen⁠—bawling her eyes out because she used up her mana reviving too many nobodies. While she lacked a true adventurer's attitude, like Brad, she was short, cute, and nice.

“Oh, great, just what I need, Brad being shirtless again,” Delilah said. She unshouldered her bow and set it aside. “We share this space, moron. Could you please respect that?”

“No rules against me being shirtless, just like there are no rules against you being stuck up,” Brad shot.

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Guys,” cried Glenda, her voice just as mousey as she looked. “Let’s not fight. Today’s been terrible enough. So many people died, and I couldn’t help them all.”

Delilah sighed. She shot a glare at Brad, then it softened. “The deeprock tunnels are getting nastier.”

“We’ll be down there on our rotation in a few days. Then you girls can enjoy some fresh air,” Brad said. “Right, Nick?”

“Yes, please do enjoy the daily aerial assaults and back-and-forth warring over inches.”

Besides Jerry’s special case as the night watch, the party had recently decided to partner up based on genders and switch positions every week. They had one day off to prepare themselves or recover from hard fighting. It made sense to Brad, but it also made it harder to talk to the girls more.

Brad knew they should be getting a new candidate soon. There had been delays, apparently, since the right candidate hadn’t been selected until just recently. He was excited for this one. The word got out the new candidate would be an uber-powerful female tank. The Admin assured that she was hot, and the System assured that she could make a world of difference⁠—

Someone knocked on the door. Delilah and Glenda had already moved over to the bar to have a drink with Nick. The closest to the door was Brad.

He sighed and got up to answer it. On the other side was the High Priest, a diviner that could commune with the gods⁠—Systemus and Adminastar, the High Two, as the locals called them. Brad had learned these guys were needed to talk to System and Admin after leaving the Tutorial. It lessened the interference involved, apparently.

The High Priest was an elderly, frail man, a lvl 61 as rare as that was. Higher leveled humans were normally in positions of power and influence unless they were born into it. Despite his level, the old man looked one brush of danger away from succumbing to death anyway.

Maybe I should’ve picked a non-human race, Brad thought as he waited for the High Priest to speak. He was flustered and out of breath for some reason. If humans have a hard time leveling up past 40 and beyond, I’m going to need some years to reach that sweet max rank of 121.

Glenda arrived at Brad’s side. Delilah soon joined up from behind Glenda, peeking above her head and below Brad’s arm while he held the door open.

“Sir, what’s wrong?” squeaked Glenda.

“Whatever it is, he’s been trying to catch his breath for a while,” Brad said. “How much you bet the Admin’s cracking the whip for something.”

Brad looked at Delilah, expecting a smartass retort. Sooner or later, they were going to… y’know, do it. The signs were in the air.

Delilah turned away from him. She went to the bar, filled a mug with water, and handed it to the High Priest on her return. Meanwhile, Glenda held onto the old man’s arm in case he fell over. Then Nick came up and brushed past Brad.

“Come, have a seat inside,” Nick said, his brow furrowed with concern.

The procession moved past Brad, who was befuddled. Why did all of his party members keep acting like these NPCs mattered? They lived and died in service of the game. That was it. Sure, they felt real, and they did real things very well according to their coding, such as the whores at the outpost’s official brothel knowing how to do their job to please a hero. But Brad was sure the reality they were experiencing was just a part of the game.

I bet the High Priest is going to bore us with a story that leads to a dangerous quest we’ll have to undertake, Brad said. A quest that might help me level up faster now that I think about it.

Brad shut the door and planted himself nearby, practicing a concerned look that he knew would work really well on his handsome, manly features.

The High Priest caught his breath, sipped some water, and looked up to the group. His eyes landed on Brad, who was a herculean figure compared to everyone else.

“We are already in dark times, my ladies and lords,” said the priest raspily. The High Priest shivered, his old body like a bunch of rattling sticks dressed in billowing white and blue robes of the Order of Systemus and Adminastar. “Still, they’ve only become darker yet. The High Two has informed me of grave news.”

Here it goes, a desperate quest that’ll put the fate of a prolonged war on the line. Brad hardened his concerned look.

“The sixth divine candidate to aid you on your quest of restoring peace to Mythokos has gone astray.”

Huh?

“High Priest, can you elaborate further?” asked Nick.

The priest nodded shakily. “The sixth has gone astray, my ladies and lords. The sixth went mad with the illness of the mind and is growing into a rampaging monster of anger, bloodlust, and hunger.”

“Hunger?” Glenda startled. Delilah moved to hug the little priestess to her side.

“Yes, my lady, hunger. A terrible hunger that will never be satisfied by mere food,” the priest said. “A hunger that seeks flesh. Any flesh. Please forgive me for saying this, but she may even want the human flesh.”

Brad felt his stomach wobble. All around him were pale faces. Even Nick’s face had lost its brownish luster.

“What sort of woman did we get as a sixth?” Brad asked.

“Not a mere woman, but a giantess, I’m afraid,” the priest replied. “A Noble Giantess Progeny who has turned against the order set by our Gods and shown an illness that can’t be cure without high-level magic.”

“Psychopathy,” Nick said.

“I don’t think I can handle this anymore,” Delilah said, shaking her head. “We’re already swamped by this freaking war. Now you’re telling me our sixth, the tank, is a giant psycho cannibal?”

“Why did she get a giant’s body?” Brad asked. “Why not me?” That would’ve helped so much with the damn Fomorians.

“Seriously, Brad?” shot Delilah. “Can you be any more self-absorbed?”

“If it were me, I wouldn’t go crazy cannibal.”

“What do the gods want us to do about it?” Nick asked, steering the conversation back on course.

You’re a stick in the mud, Nick, but at least you’re competent, Brad thought, eager to hear more.

“The Gods are divided.” The High Priest held his head. “Systemus wants you to see the war done, then deal with the mad sixth. Adminastar wants you to deal with the sixth now and then return to the war. I cannot give consul here, for this is troubling news.”

“C-c-can we talk to her?” Glenda asked both hands clutched against her chest. "Can we speak with her and perhaps convince her to stop being the Dark Candidate. Maybe if she knows there are others from Earth just like her, it might help her."

The High Priest shook his head. “It will do you no good, my lady. The sixth candidate, the siege weapon against the fey—the tide turner—is deemed by the Gods as a new bringer of doom. My diviners and I can assist you in scrying the possible future and finding where she'll most likely be located at a given time. From there it is up to you all to decide how to proceed forward as the Five Heroic Candidates. You all share the burden of saving this realm from the fey threat and the rampage of The Dark Candidate.”

A somber silence filled the room. Nick stared angrily at a corner. Delilah hugged herself. Glenda started crying. Brad let the others soak in the dispiriting moment while he did his best to contain his bundling joy.

Then he burst out with a trumpeting shout and an upward pumping fist. “Sounds like the perfect job for a Golden Knight! Solo mission, here I come!”

It didn’t matter what anyone said afterward to Brad because he knew the obvious answer was split-pushing, especially if the Admin wanted this quest done now. Brad considered the Admin a real bro and wouldn’t mind winning more of that God’s favor and receive some rare boons or extra XP.

Brad could fly solo, level-up aggressively during the journey with his pet griffin, and track down the evil sixth with the help of some decent NPC’s and diviner magic. The other candidates could continue the war front without him until he came back stronger from defeating the green ranger⁠—lol!

Then he could end the war mostly by himself, have Delilah treat him for being such a hot badass, and maybe make a waifu out of Glenda.

Hells yes.

Epikos

First time using this. Just wanted to let you guys know we're returning to Rhonda's POV next chapter and for the foreseeable future.