Liz wasn’t entirely sure what to think of Natalie’s reveal. It was a lot to take in. Worse, they’d be at the dungeon entrance in less than twenty minutes—probably fighting monsters within thirty.

Almost more than Natalie sneaking out a monster core, the fact she’d dropped this on them right before the dungeon had Liz the slightest bit miffed. Because, really. A girl needed time to think all … that … over. Maybe that had even been Natalie’s intention. Maybe she had presented her misdeeds, and the odd information, specifically timed so that they didn’t have the opportunity to stew over it.

Liz didn’t think so. She knew a schemer when she saw one. Growing up, she’d known more schemers than not. Even some of her best friends were ones. Heck, even she was, on occasion. She really, really hated politics, but it wasn’t like she could get away from it all. Her last name was Beaumon. Fourteenth in line or not, monarchy more or less dissolved in everything but name or not, Liz was up to her eyeballs in conniving politicians and ingratiating sycophants.

Which was how she knew Natalie wasn’t one. Or, ninety-nine percent sure. Natalie hadn’t planned the timing. Rather, she’d just worked up the nerve then—or otherwise hadn’t had the chance to get everyone together.

Though, clearly she was capable of competently lying, since Liz hadn’t suspected a thing about her theft. But for sure, she wasn’t some grand manipulator, either.

Even Sofia and Jordan were delightfully straightforward by Liz’s standards. Growing up surrounded by the biggest names of a nation had been a major headache, and, frankly, her newest team’s lack of political goals was a big plus for why she’d wanted to join. It hadn’t just been wanting to split away from her family’s prepared squad, and all the expectations that came with that. A decision her parents would not be happy about, next time she saw them. But Liz had already made her mind up.

But Natalie’s stuff.

Her aspect. The item she’d gotten. The … vines. Which, even spared the details, painted the picture in only the broadest sense, had Liz’s cheeks flaming. Vines? Really? Maybe being given so much creative liberty to construct the scene in her mind was even worse than if Natalie had just spelled it out. What did ‘being taken care of’ mean?

And her fluster was only partly because of the pervertedness and strangeness. The fact the imagery came bundled with Natalie was distinctly one of the reasons she couldn’t fend away the blushes. Their team’s tank really had a lot going on, and Liz would have to be blind to not have noticed. For that matter, the entire team was ridiculously attractive. Even Ana, for her anti-social tendencies and total disregard for her appearance. Liz was almost mad about that. Liz didn’t think she was bland, but stacked up against all that? Her teammates were unfairly pretty, down to the woman.

Though, the less polite part of her was appreciative. A part she pointedly ignored, but it crept in nonetheless. The five of them were strictly teammates. Liz couldn’t think about stuff like that. Professionals. Delving partners, nothing more.

Ergh.

Except … maybe that sort of thing, she should be thinking about. Because from the sound of it, Natalie’s class involved … what? Lust-related skills? Whatever that meant? And even more to the point, the dungeon reacted to her class? Produced encounters like the vines—whatever ‘the vines’ meant. So maybe whether Liz found her teammates attractive mattered. Because by circumstance rather than deliberate intent, she might be ending up in scenarios she really wouldn’t have expected, starting a career in delving.

That idea probably shouldn’t have her heart skipping beats.

And she was making way too many assumptions. Natalie had seemed pretty sure that those weird encounters would be focused on her. For all Liz knew, she herself would never brush up against anything like that. And that was a good thing. It wasn’t like she was curious what it would be like for a bunch of vines to … do stuff.

Whatever stuff meant.

Such a weird class.

And group encounters. She might not get any solo action, much less the entire team getting roped into something. So, calm down, Liz.

Getting involved with her teammates was a terrible idea, too. Not only because of the possible complications on a personal level, but because a Beaumon shouldn’t be dallying with strangers. With anyone. Some of the smaller houses could afford to behave with such disregard for propriety, but certainly not the Beaumons. They had shining reputations to maintain, and regardless that Liz wasn’t in the limelight like some of her relatives, she needed to adhere to that requirement, too.

So that Liz was entertaining those fantasies was doubly ridiculous.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t shake the idea, no matter how hard she tried. At a minimum, she kept the thoughts firmly restrained the back of her head, where she didn’t acknowledge them.

Almost before Liz knew it, they’d arrived to the dungeon entrance. She realized only then that she had been setting an expeditious pace, ahead of the group, scurrying forward out of embarrassment. She sheepishly rejoined them. At least her cheeks weren’t betraying her, anymore. She’d mostly gotten herself under control. Mom’s lessons on poise had some use.

Her teammates were bundled up with supplies. It didn’t take much to prepare for a single-night expedition—maybe two nights, depending on how it went—but certainly more equipment than the light-weight packing they had needed for their earlier delves of only a few hours. Meals, sleeping bags, fire-starting supplies, and so on. Depending on the biome they dropped into, they could get away with more or less, but unfortunately, the dungeon wasn’t kind enough to announce where it would throw them beforehand.

And they could exit and re-enter the dungeon to try to get more favorable battlegrounds, but the dungeon really didn’t like when people tried to ‘game’ it. It would cause more trouble than it solved, having the dungeon upset with you. No, the widely agreed maxim was to engage with the dungeon on its own terms. Still a great chance at getting turned into monsterfood or adorning a spike trap, but not as much of one. Play fair, and the dungeon played fair back.

Well, usually.

The team looked at each other, checking silently to see if they were ready to enter, but of course they were. Would hardly have made it all the way to the dungeon entrance if not. This delve was a long time coming.

Some of the awkwardness lingered from Natalie’s reveal, but honestly, Liz thought that would clear up fast, faced with the dungeon. Confronted by snarling monsters, and having to chain together complex spells, the background noise had a tendency of fading away. One of the reasons Liz liked delving so much. Much simpler. Kill or be killed. No stupid politics—delightfully refreshing.

Natalie leading, the team sank into the glassy black obsidian of the dungeon entrance, and their first serious delve began.