Beyond the enormous walls of Duncaster, Kenji stared up at a clear sky toward the Spire. In the center of the city, it broke through the heavens like the leg of God stepping down, and while thousands of feet of its surface were visible, the upper portion faded into a blanket of thick, billowy clouds that weren’t anywhere else in the sky. Such mystery and wonder did not exist in Tokyo—or anywhere else in Japan. But in that place, both flowed like milk and honey.

He, Misumi, and the others had hiked out to the end of a grove, a clearing near the base of a towering cliff. Streams poured from a widespread waterfall, cascading over rocks or sometimes falling directly to the water below, always leaving a rainbow mist in the air. The river curled like a bent elbow at the clearing, bordering the cliff base, and in the woods nearby, a herd of deer wandered gradually by as they ate grass and occasionally glanced up at the group of young men and women sparring with each other. They must have been so confused by all the grunting and swordplay.

Nearby, Sapphire and Floris sat on a throw blanket beneath the shade of a large tree, and while they weren’t picnicking, they were certainly relaxed and having a good time. Thus far, Kenji and Misumi had embarrassed themselves repeatedly while trying to use daggers, longswords, bows, and even a sword and shield, and while Desmond, Grant, and Sinopa were quite skilled, their abilities wouldn’t just transfer over magically. No, it would take practice. Lots of practice.

“Dodge this!” Sinopa squeaked. Like a bouncing rabbit, she hopped back and forth around Kenji, slicing with her dagger as he narrowly managed to avoid the blade.

“Hey, watch it!” he exclaimed. “You’re gonna cut me open!”

From nearby, Desmond had both arms crossed and was shaking his head. “That’s the whole point, kiddo. An Adventurer’s life ain’t easy. It’ll be dangerous out there—or in there, assuming you wanna take on the Spire.”

Kenji’s heart pumped fast as he tried desperately to not get stabbed on his first day in the world of Izalea, and he marveled at Sinopa’s blazing speed. “Yeah, but can’t you ease me into this or something? Cut me some slack!”

“No can do!” exclaimed Sinopa, catching him off guard with a low kick that swept him to the ground. Once he had fallen to the grass, totally exhausted and aching, the little vixen stood over him and snickered with both hands on placed successfully her hips. “If we coddle you now, you won’t make it later. Plus, we can figure out your weaknesses this way. Now get up, chump! I wanna see some proper evasion techniques!”

“I don’t know any!” he insisted.

As Grant stepped in and helped Kenji to his feet, wearing the sleekest leather armor, he used his wholesome charm to quell Sinopa’s pup-like desire to fight, causing her to grump with disappointment. She tapped her foot up and down, then removed her hood for once, revealing her foxlike ears. She had messy black hair and gray ears with furry white tips, and not only that, but as Kenji stared at her, a tail stiffened from behind her underneath her cloak that was the same color.

“You’re a fox girl?” he wondered aloud while brushing himself off.

She puffed her cheeks. “No, I’m a Vixen, damn it! A Vixen, I say! Don’t you have those where you’re from?”

“Nope. Just regular old humans back home.”

Her face shrunk into a grumbling squish. “Really? You expect me to believe Japan doesn’t have Vixen’s? I’m not buyin’ it, chump.”

“Well,” Kenji responded. “We do technically have them. But they’re only in anime. Oh, and they’re usually quite hot and masterfully seductive.”

Instantaneously, Sinopa’s cheeks turned red as a tomato, and she stepped back defensively. “W-What? S-Seductive?”

“Yep, that’s what I said.”

Too embarrassed to say anything else or continue arguing with him, Sinopa steamed from her cranium until at last she changed the subject and barked, “Floris, get over here and teach Misumi somethin’! I’m done!”

Given that Kenji’s turn was over, he decided to stand back next to Grant and Desmond and watch as Misumi took over, not fighting against the Thief class. They were even more nimble than Hunters, and often used two daggers instead of one, making them twice as deadly when fights got up close and personal.

Misumi was ill-prepared for a throwdown.

“You got this,” Kenji told her as Floris stood roughly fifteen feet away, weapons drawn. “Remember, this is just training. We’re trying to find out how much we suck, so that we stop sucking in the future.”

“R-Right, got it,” worried Misumi.

Meanwhile, Floris was in the process of shifting to different poses, stances, and would hold one dagger out while the other was over her head. She’d aim them both forward, or even in completely ridiculous postures, and every time she changed her stance, she generally just looked…stupid.

“Are you ready for this?” Floris asked. Her blood-red hair was bright in the sunlight, glistening like an ocean at midday. “I won’t go easy on you!”

Misumi gulped. “I’m ready.”

“Then don’t say I didn’t warn you! Here I go!”

Like a charging herd of buffalo, Floris kicked up dirt as her right foot dug into the soil and propelled her forward, and she launched at full speed toward her unarmed opponent. It was like a one-sided race she couldn’t possibly lose. However, there was one aspect of her capabilities that even she didn’t account for in that moment: clumsiness. And as one of her feet misstepped, her confident expression morphed into dismay, and she went tumbling to the ground hard, falling flat on her face like a wooden board.

Desmond smacked a hand over his face. “Geez…”

“At least she’s trying, right?” smiled Grant with a positive tone.

However, Sinopa wasn’t half as gracious, and she burst into a fit of uproarious cackles, clutching her stomach and just about falling over too. “You’re an idiot!” she squeaked, gray tail wagging like a dog. “No wonder we can’t get past Floor 1—we’re all stupid as crap!”

The laughter continued as Floris’ cheeks flushed red, but even so, she swiftly climbed to her feet and acted like nothing happened, sheathing both daggers in the process. Meanwhile, everyone snickered, even Misumi, and Kenji also couldn’t help himself from seeing the humor in the situation. She blushed even more, like Sinopa had at the thought of seductiveness.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today!” Floris insisted.

She crossed both arms and pouted as her brother, Grant, began pulling bits of grass out of her hair and brushing off her clothes.

“It’s time to go shopping instead!”

And the deer, which peacefully snacked on grass in the forest, brought their heads up and stared at the group, chewing all the while.

 

******

 

When it came time to pick out basic clothing, the guys and girls split up and scoured the shops at Dreamer’s Square, a large plaza used by merchants and adventurers alike in front of the Spire. There were bakeries filled with delicious breads, armorers smithing new types of gear, taverns bustling with life, and in multiple rows were dozens upon dozens of stalls, each of which sold countless items like weapons, potions, spell books, magic items, alchemical ingredients, and of course, clothing. By noon, Misumi was in a group with Floris, Sinopa, and a begrudged Sapphire, checking out the goods at nearly every shop they found. Buying much was out of the question; however, they did offer to pay for a set of clothes for Misumi, which was far more than she could ask for. At least she could look natural in that world.

“So let me know if I’m gettin’ this right,” Sinopa grumped, holding up a fancy cloak that cost more than every possession she owned. She tossed it away, then picked up another from the stall’s table, struggling to find one her size and that cost a reasonable price. “People don’t use magic in Japan? For real? Every party needs at least one healer in it.”

Amidst the havoc of Dreamer’s Square, Misumi constantly darted her eyes to the passersby. She answered, “Well, there aren’t parties. We don’t live the same way as you.”

“Then what do you do?”

“We go to school. And work. And buy houses and cars…”

“Cars?” Floris asked, tilting her head to the side, mouth open. “What’s a car?”

“Oh, its…well…it’s like a cart, expect it’s not pulled by a horse or anything.”

At first, Floris laughed and leaned against the stall’s table, but when Misumi didn’t say anything, her face turned serious and she asked, “Wait. You’re just yanking my chain, right? A horseless cart? And without magic? That’s crazy talk.”

Being asked so many questions started to make Misumi nervous, since she was terrible at giving answers, but then she thought of Kenji and how he must have been asked the same things. If he could make it on his own, so could she.

“To be honest,” she said. “Magic was crazy to me before I came here. Everything is so different…”

Suddenly, Sinopa held a shirt against Misumi’s torso, then tossed it at her face. “Here ya go—it’s a perfect fit. Now we just gotta find you a skirt or something.” She began digging through a barrel of clothes. “Want frills?”

“Oh, no. Definitely not.” Misumi shook her head. “I’m not a frills girl.”

Sinopa yapped, “Ha! You are if I say ya are!”

During all this, Sapphire was standing nearby and listening, and she would occasionally glance at Misumi, wearing scornful eyes that could send a chill up a fire demon’s spine. In fact, after they crossed stares on multiple occasions accidentally, Misumi asked another question to bring about more conversation.

“So, are there other guilds around here?”

That spurred an ‘Are you serious?’ look from all three of the other girls, though it was Floris who gave a real answer.

“Of course!” she said in a chipper voice. “There’s Pipe Grinder, Wet Slug, Stanky Meat, Deuce Bucket, Crimson Ooze—Rat’s Ass, of course—and like a bajillion others! And that’s just in Duncaster! Guilds are all over the world!”

Misumi cringed in a godawful way. “That’s a joke, right? They can’t really be named those things…”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because those names are so…dirty.”

“Dirty?” Floris looked confused. “But that’s just the way we name guilds here.”

Before she could question the terrible names any further, Sinopa found another clothing item from the barrel—a skirt—and she chucked it at Misumi’s face with Mach 4 velocity. Afterward, she yipped like any normal fox in the woods and looked proud of herself:

“There you go, newbie! A fresh taste of my power! Now please—tremble in fear before me!”

 

******

 

After snagging the first decent set of clothes they could find, Kenji, Desmond, and Grant hit up the food stalls, lured in by the mouthwatering aromas that called out like sirens on the wind. They ate to their hearts’ content, stuffing their faces with whatever they could find, and then, once Kenji had thoroughly sampled the local cuisine, they retired to a café to sit back, relax, and talk as the girls were out doing their own thing.

Despite the décor being rustic like a mixture between medieval and Victorian design, the café was surprisingly modern in function. They served light meals and warm drinks, replacing the ale and spirits of nearby taverns with things like tea, hot cocoa, and coffee, and Kenji sat at the bar next to Grant. All three of them ordered hot cocoa, which Desmond offered to pay for.

“So what do you think?” asked Grant.

Kenji glanced at him. “About what?”

“About joining the guild. I can’t be sure, but you look like a Rogue to me. Of course, it’s up to you to choose a subclass.” He sipped the hot cocoa, pulling away as it almost burned his lip. He set the mug down and blew on it. “The Cathedral can bless you with a class when you’re ready, so take your time—it’s a big decision, after all.”

“Well, how many classes are there?”

“Six,” answered Desmond. He had already finished his cocoa and was starting a second. “Warrior, Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, Bard, and Priest. The real variety comes from the subclasses, though. They’re what gives parties some necessary distinction.”

Kenji paused. “How’s that?”

Replying, Grant picked up the conversation again, “Think of it like this. Say there’s a job offering that requires diving into a dungeon full of undead. Well, guess what? You need a Cleric or Necromancer for that, and unfortunately those subclasses can’t survive on their own—they need a team around them to function properly.” He tried sipping the cocoa again, this time able to tolerate its temperature. “Or as another example, let’s say we’ve got minotaurs prowling the forest, and our team needs to plot a way around them instead of getting into a battle. In that case, we need a hunter—they move silently in wilderness environments and have virtually no scent, which is key. Minotaurs have a keen sense of smell, you see.”

As a team of adventurers entered the café, Kenji glanced over his shoulder and noticed their weapons. One carried a sword. Another had a bow. The third had a white staff. He listened further as Desmond added:

“And for those who want to conquer the Spire, variety is what keeps them alive. The monsters in there aren’t push-overs, kiddo. Believe me. It takes every skill in the book just to spend a single night in there. Some parties mass together—it’s a strength in number thing, you know?” He gulped his second cup of hot cocoa and respired, rubbing his stomach. “But all the struggle is worth it. Everyone wants to reach the top.”

“Why is that so important to the adventurers here?” Kenji asked.

“’Cause. Legend has it that if you reach the tenth floor, you can have any single wish granted. And yes, I do mean any wish. You could wish for the whole world to burn and it would happen—or so the legend says.”

Suddenly, Kenji’s mind went straight to Misumi, wondering if she had been told the same thing by the girls. Did the Spire really have that kind of power? Could it really grant someone’s wishes? Though he had only been there two days, he felt an energy burning in him like never before to start over and build a new life for himself, but if Kenji reached the top floor of the Spire…could he wish for his old life back? Would he? Would Misumi?

Gazing vacantly into the full mug of cocoa between his palms, he wondered just how unlikely that was to happen, but still, the possibility lingered on.

“Any wish I want, huh?” he asked. Like Desmond he chugged the hot cocoa in one sitting, then placed the mug back on the bar. “Interesting.”