“You have a charm ability?” Hazel asked incredulously, jogging to catch up.

“I’m a succubus. Why do you sound surprised?”

“I just didn’t expect it, I guess." Though maybe she should have. “It seemed like you were charging up an offensive spell. I don’t know, a fireball or something.”

“A fireball.”

“Or the succubus equivalent.”

“What would the succubus equivalent of a fireball be?”

“Some kind of pink explosion?”

“Really?”

“It’s not that weird,” Hazel said defensively. “You don’t have anything that’s just an attack spell?”

“I do,” Mia said. “But it’s not a pink fireball.”

Hazel huffed. “Well, anyway, how long does it last?” She eyed the ruby-scaled snake with some wariness. Mia had approached and befriended the beast without a second’s hesitation. She supposed the succubus was accustomed to ensnaring dangerous creatures with her charm, so she’d outgrown any trepidation.

“Not forever,” Mia said, “but he’ll be dead before it wears off, so we’re not pressed for time.”

Hazel paused at the callous appraisal, but what? Was Hazel expecting her to actually be fond of the beast? Treat it how she might a pet? No, it was a tool to be leveraged, an ensnared monster that would die fighting for her. Hazel couldn’t forget what type of world she’d arrived to.

“Does he give experience for his kills?”

“Of course,” Mia said. “The charm also empowers him. He’s stronger than a typical level five. He’ll last us for a good portion of the Rift.”

“Must cost a lot of mana.”

“It’s not cheap,” Mia agreed.

“Can you have multiple?”

“No. Maybe at higher proficiencies. I might be getting close to medium, but that could just be hopeful thinking.”

“Huh,” Hazel said.

“Let’s keep it moving,” Mia said. She peered around; there were several cobblestone pathways out. From what Hazel could see, they led to other courtyards. Individual ‘rooms’ of the Rift, so to say?

Hazel followed Mia as they ventured to the next, and sure enough, another monster was present. This time, it wasn’t sleeping, and flung itself toward Mia the moment they stepped foot inside. Ruby likewise flung himself forward, Mia’s loyal bodyguard, and the two monsters impacted each other and started a deadly melee.

Hazel, of course, stayed back and watched, as she’d been told to.

The four-legged plant-mixed-with-dog monster fought viciously with the giant snake. Hazel watched in fascination, only mildly disturbed at the violence on display—she’d gotten used to it during her own struggles.

Mia demonstrated more of her spellcasting abilities. Small pink crystalline shards burst from her staff tip, darting forward and opening up red scrapes against the Crimson Blossom. Hazel intuited the projectiles were Mia’s standard way to deal damage. She only had been using her staff all day because it was easier and cheaper for cleaning up weak monsters. Hazel didn’t think Mia was a physical fighter, but instead that every adventurer could handle themself with their primary weapon, mage-type or not. A simple job requirement.

The fight didn’t last long. Snake struggled against dog-plant-thing, with Mia shooting out well-aimed shards when she had the opportunity, and soon, the Crimson Blossom stopped struggling. With what Hazel assumed was a mental command from Mia, Ruby extricated himself from his prey and returned to Mia’s side.

She approached the corpse, then—Hazel assumed—looted it.

“What’d you get?” Hazel asked.

“Nothing important,” Mia replied. “The real valuables come from chests. And speaking of.” She pointed with her staff across the courtyard. Hazel’s eyes followed, and sure enough, sitting there, knee-high and constructed of dark red wood, was the topic of conversation. “We got lucky. That’s an early one. Let’s hope we’ve found you a weapon.”

Hazel studied the chest in closer detail as she approached. It was rather plain, secured with two latches. Mia didn’t hesitate before crouching down and flipping the two metal locks. She flung the top open.

Light erupted, and Hazel flinched and took a surprised step back. The vibrant display rotated colors in a chaotic frenzy, flickering from one color to another. White, green, blue, purple, orange, and rainbow. The flashing lights slowed bit by bit, changes happening less frequently, before finally settling on plain white.

“Just a common,” Mia sighed. “As expected, but still.”

Had the chest cycled through rarities? Like a slot machine? It was another amusingly game-like addition to the world, though not one usually found in RPGs—at least, as far as she knew.

Having settled to white, an array of shimmering, ghostly outlines appeared in the air, displaying a set of items in several rows. Their loot? It didn’t work like looting monster corpses, it seemed. She had to take a few steps back to get a better view of it all.

“What does each color mean?” Hazel asked.

Mia sent Hazel an odd look, before pursing her lips, remembering Hazel’s circumstances. “Common, uncommon, rare, exquisite, mythic, and divine.”

“Huh,” Hazel said. “How rare’s each?”

“Depends on your level. We won’t see anything higher than rare for quite some time.”

The two of them considered the ghostly outlines of items hanging in the air.

“Well, we did get a weapon,” Mia said. “How are you with scythes?”

That had been where Hazel’s eyes had also naturally went. The shimmering outline of the scythe was the largest by far, taller than Hazel by at least a foot or two, with a giant, wicked curved blade for a head. It was a vicious looking weapon. She could vaguely make out the colors, though they were faded in the ghostly image: it had a red blade and a white shaft.

The description wasn’t what she expected. No ‘plus five to strength’ or durability and attack power ratings. Instead, two simple effects: the ability to gain health from killing others and a boost to blood magic. The latter would obviously be useless on her. Unless, she supposed, she used Skill Workshop to build a spell that focused on blood magic. Which wasn’t exactly the path she’d imagined for herself—though she guessed she wouldn’t be against it as a matter of principle. Blood magic, while somewhat evil sounding, seemed interested. Frankly, every branch of magic seemed interesting.

“How does this work? Do we get all of it? Or pick?” Hazel asked.

“We get one from each row. Besides the bottom—all of those are up for grabs.”

“Huh. But the scythe is in its own.”

“You don’t always get choices,” Mia agreed. “So the scythe we get no matter what. As for the armor selection, I’d suggest you pick the chainmail. The larger pieces give the best bonuses, and since you have nothing right now, it’s the obvious choice.”

Hazel considered the chainmail vest Mia had pointed out. There were two other pieces of loot in the same row: boots and a helmet.

“How does armor work?”

“Pardon?”

“Like, how many items can you have equipped? What if I wear three sets of robes on top of each other?”

“You get one major piece, three minors, and five accessories.”

“What’s that mean? Major and minor?”

“A major piece would be, say, a robe or a chestplate.” Mia tugged idly at her revealing outfit. “This is my major piece. Minors would be items like gloves, helmets, boots, and so on. Accessories are accessories.”

“Necklaces and rings?”

“Indeed.”

“You have all eight pieces equipped, then?”

“Of course. There’s no reason not to. Most give simple bonuses, unlike that scythe, but you’d be foolish not to have a full set of gear. Unless you’re starting off and can’t afford it.”

“What’s your three minors?”

Mia paused, and her cheeks colored. “My boots. My crown, which I’ve set to hidden, and … something else.”

She could hide pieces of equipment? Hazel tucked that piece of information away—she was more interested in the second part. “Something else?” she prompted.

Mia’s cheeks colored further. “A piece of clothing best not spoken of in polite company. Let’s leave it at that.”

Hazel looked at her, confused, before understanding dawned. “No way. Your panties?”

Mia glared, crossing her arms. “Please focus on the matter at hand.” She gestured at the ghostly outlines of loot arrayed above the chest.

“You have magic panties?” Hazel was inordinately delighted by the discovery. That the topic made Mia blush was just a plus. “What do they do?”

“The loot, please.”

The mention of magic panties reminded her of something else. She scanned the available items. “You said loot customize to your class. I don’t see anything like that here, though. For you or me.”

“Not always,” Mia said. “And if it does, it happens after equipping the item.” She gestured at her boots. “These started as plate boots.” She tugged at her outfit. “And this, as mage’s robes.”

“What’d your panties start as, then?”

“Please drop it.”

“Well, I’m just curious. It’s interesting how it works.”

Mia glared, and Hazel laughed and chose to stop teasing her. The swishing of her heart-shaped tail was getting a little frantic, and Hazel was pretty sure it was embarrassment and not real agitation, but still.

“How do level requirements work?” Hazel asked. “Could I still use the scythe if I wanted to, even though I’m too low?”

“Yes. The effects would be diminished appropriate to the level gap. Disproportionately so, even. Only a few levels beneath it and effectiveness can be as much as halved. But it’s still usable.”

“I see. So I can have it? And the chainmail too?” That seemed to have been what Mia had implied.

“You can borrow it,” Mia clarified. “I’m not a charity.”

That was fair. Mia was a higher-rank adventurer going out of her way to teach Hazel and even help her escape the dungeon, so she was going far and above what Hazel would expect from a stranger. Mia giving away the loot she earned from her fights—which Hazel wasn’t capable of contributing to meaningfully, this being a much harder zone—would be excessive charity. Hazel already appreciated it greatly, and wasn’t put off at all by being told these items would be on loan, not a freebie.

“Okay. Thank you,” Hazel said. “How do I take an item?”

“Focus on it. Will it to happen.” Mia shrugged as if she couldn’t explain it better.

That was how several aspects of this system worked, so it made sense. Hazel turned her attention to the scythe and willed it to become hers.

She assented, and the scythe materialized in front of her, taking physical form. The ghostly outline above the chest vanished at the same instant. She reached and grabbed the weapon before it fell to the ground, gravity suddenly taking hold of it.

The scythe was even more intimidating in person. Red metal gleamed, a vicious arc of a blade two or three feet long. The shaft was seven or eight tall, looming over Hazel.

“It’s not the weapon I expected for you,” Mia said amusedly. “A slime with a war scythe. Hmph. And its unwieldy. A skilled weapon. I expect you have no training? Regardless, it’s better than a rock.”

“Better than a rock,” Hazel agreed—though she appreciated her trusty original weapon’s help throughout the early levels. “It didn’t customize to me?”

“Have you equipped it?”

“Oh. Right.”

With another prompt and acceptance, she did so. But the blade still didn’t change.

“Like I said, they don’t always,” Mia said. “Weapons especially change less frequently than armor. Try out the chainmail. I suspect that will. And, admittedly, I’m curious how armor will morph to a slime.”