The numbness was worse than the pain.

  I stumbled away from the cliff edge, my legs moving without conscious thought, the severed stump of my left wrist cradled against my chest. Patrick's confession echoed in my skull like a death knell—Elane.

  I could still remember the last day I saw her. Andy insisted the party split to do two tasks simultaneously. Andy, Patrick, Heather, and Elane would follow-up on a rumor about mithril ore located at a nearby mine which could be used to forge magical weapons.

  As a Crafting Enchanter, Elane’s only job in the mission was to authenticate the value of the ore while the others fought the monsters in the mine. Meanwhile Andy directed me, Nick, and Jesse to search for the best blacksmith in the town Rocky Crossings where Andy claimed he heard the rumor.

  Even back then I knew something was off. Andy had our party split up before, but normally information hunting was strictly done by me only. I had assumed Andy thought sticking Nick and Jesse with me would hurry up the process.

  And remembering what happened afterward, all I could think now… was how unbelievably stupid I was. Andy, Patrick, and Heather came back with Patrick covered in bleeding slash marks on his body and even his face. Heather was wailing and crying, using a handkerchief to cover her face most of the time.

  Andy explained calmly, with a chilling tone, how there were goblins in the mine who dropped on them from a hole in the ceiling and instantly killed Elane. They were nearly swarmed by the green little monsters before they could retreat. They had no chance to recover her body.

  I should have noticed how off everything was. Why didn’t Heather heal Patrick before they came back? Obviously because they hoped seeing Patrick bleeding from five different places would sell the story better.

  Why have Nick and Jesse join me in searching for a blacksmith? Because it would be more believable to claim half the Heroes Party was overrun by goblins.

  It wasn’t just their acting which convinced me of Elane being killed by monsters. She always had the crappiest gear, was the lowest level, and barely had any spells to protect herself.

  I was so certain some monster would eventually get her that I didn’t even consider the idea of it being a planned murder.

  The shock hit me in waves. First the physical trauma of losing my hand, then the betrayal, and now this—the knowledge that they'd killed her too. My vision blurred, and I couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or tears.

  Move, some survival instinct screamed at me. Patrick was going to climb back up the cliff and tell everyone I was alive. I needed to hide.

  But my feet felt like lead. The green grass beneath me seemed to sway, and I wondered distantly if I was going into shock. The ocean crashed against the cliffs behind me, a rhythmic reminder of how close I'd come to going over the edge.

  “Caw! Why are you just standing there?”

  I spun around, nearly losing my balance. A bird perched on a weathered stone, its blue eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. It took me a moment to realize it was a raven. Well shaped like a raven, but with snow-white feathers instead. The bird tilted its head, studying me with unsettling intelligence.

  "A talking bird," I muttered, wondering if blood loss was making me hallucinate. "Perfect. Just what this nightmare needed."

  The bird’s feathers ruffled before it spread its wings and pointed them to the night sky.

  “Caw! Show some respect! I am the great Osirus! A eternal guardian here to protect!”

  For a bird which just barely reached up to my knee, he sure had an ego. I gave him a deadpan look before slowly lifting up my stumped arm.

  “Great protecting.”

  “My job is to protect the shrine, not your stupid arm! Caw!”

  “Protect the shrine?” I asked, tilting my head. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be running. But where would I even run to?

  “Yes! Why just last week I stopped a fellow bird from nesting at the shrine. They put up quite a fight, but I made it clear they had to find another place to lay their eggs.”

  “I see…” I said as I did a Scan of the bird.

  [Scan Results] Name: Osirus Race: Moon Raven Level: 5 Stats: Str 2, Con 3, Dex 12, Wis 18, Int 18 HP: 15/15 MP: 45/45

  I blinked at the results. A level 5 bird with the Intelligence of a scholar and the Wisdom of a high priest? That wasn't normal. Not even close.

  "Caw! Stop gawking at my magnificence!" Osirus preened his white feathers. "Though I suppose it's understandable. Not every day you meet someone of my caliber."

  "Your Intelligence stat is higher than mine," I said, still processing. "And your Wisdom..."

  "Yes, yes, I'm quite brilliant. Now then—" The raven's blue eyes narrowed as he looked past me toward the shrine. "Those other humans you came with. Bad Heroes, aren't they? The kind that murder their own."

  My blood ran cold. "How do you—"

  "Caw! I see everything that happens at my shrine. That flame-sword fellow has darkness in his heart. Very unbecoming of a Hero." Osirus hopped down from his perch, his talons clicking against the stone. "You need somewhere to hide, yes? I can hear the big one grabbing onto the cliff wall from the ocean waters. He won’t be staying down there for long."

  My mind raced. Patrick was already climbing. The others would know soon. I had minutes, maybe less.

  "Yes," I gasped, the word coming out before I could think. "Please."

  "Follow me then! Quickly!" Osirus took flight, his white form ghostly in the moonlight.

  [Skill activated: Darken Stealth]

  The familiar sensation washed over me as shadows bent around my form. My footsteps went silent, and the darkness seemed to reach out and embrace me. The MP drain started immediately—5 points every five minutes—but I had enough to last.

  Osirus led me away from the shrine, toward the steep mountain face. My Nightvision ability instantly took over, eyesight seeing layers of gray. My legs trembled with each step, the blood loss making me lightheaded. The raven flew low, occasionally glancing back to ensure I followed.

  I mentally grabbed a healing potion from my Inventory Box, chugging the heal potion as I moved before sending the empty bottle back to my pocket dimension. Best not to leave evidence of where I was going.

  "Here! Through here!" Osirus landed on a rocky outcrop, gesturing with one wing at what appeared to be solid stone.

  I reached out with my good hand, expecting to touch granite. Instead, my fingers passed through empty air. An illusion. Without hesitation, I stepped through.

  The cave was small but dry, extending back into darkness. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I collapsed against the wall, my legs finally giving out. I now felt a lot less pain and blood was no longer dripping from the seared wound.

  The disguise flickered and died, I couldn't maintain it any longer.

  I stared outside from the edge of the mountain cave. Osirus quickly joined me inside, feathers puffing up as he sat on a rock across from me. Those high stats must have made him perceptive because he seemed to know I had no interest in talking.

  Now something worse than running was to come. The waiting… Waiting to see what Patrick would do. Waiting to see if they’d use all those incredible Hero powers to try to find me here. All I could do was wait.

  With my remaining hand shaking, I mentally accessed my Inventory Box. The familiar interface appeared, and I pulled out my leather-bound journal and feathered ink pen. One of the few luxuries I purchased for myself was a magical feathered pen which never ran out of ink.

  It was well worth the investment.

  There were no therapists in this world, the closest one could come to seeing a therapist were those priests. And I didn’t feel comfortable talking about my problems to someone who literally hero worshipped me.

  Back on Earth I was seeing a therapist behind my parents’ back, my guidance counselor helped me make contact. And one of the ways they suggested I cope was writing down my problems. I always kept the journal at the school, there was never anywhere safe at home to keep it.

  On instinct I went to hold the journal with my missing hand, which led to the book tumbling to the floor. I glanced at Osirus and luckily he didn’t say anything. The raven stared outside, ignoring what I was doing. Something I was thankful for almost as much as for the hiding spot.

  With one hand, I placed the journal open on a flatter rock. Then I took my pen to write. It was probably a stupid thing to do, but writing my thoughts on paper always helped me. And I needed all the help I could get to accept what had happened.

  ***

  The cold water hit Patrick like a sledgehammer, driving the air from his lungs. His plate mail armor, which had protected him through countless battles, now threatened to drag him to the ocean floor. With practiced efficiency, he mentally accessed his Inventory Box and stashed the armor piece by piece, the weight disappearing as each component vanished into that otherworldly storage space.

  Now wearing only his underclothes, Patrick treaded water, gasping as waves crashed over his head. The cliff face loomed above him, a sheer wall of rock illuminated by moonlight. He reached for his Inventory Box again, pulling out two magical javelins—spoils from a dungeon raid months ago. Their enchanted tips would pierce stone as easily as flesh.

  He drove the first javelin into the cliff face with a grunt. The metal bit deep, holding firm. Then the second, higher up. Hand over hand, javelin over javelin, Patrick began his ascent.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The rhythm was almost meditative. Thrust, climb, pull free, thrust again. His muscles burned, but years of training had prepared him for worse. As he climbed, his mind wandered back to that terrible moment on the cliff's edge.

  Will's corpse had grabbed him. Screamed at him. Accused him of murdering Elane.

  But corpses didn't scream. Corpses didn't move.

  Patrick paused, hanging from one javelin while he caught his breath. The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. The way Will had stepped back just as Andy's sword fell. The too-perfect appearance of the wound. The fact that Will's most powerful ability was creating illusionary disguises.

  "He's alive," Patrick whispered to himself, the words lost in the ocean wind.

  Will was alive, and he knew about Elane.

  Patrick resumed climbing with renewed urgency. He had to tell Andy. Had to warn him that Will had escaped, that their secret was compromised. His hands moved faster, the javelins biting into stone with desperate force.

  But as the cliff's edge came into view, Patrick's movements slowed. A memory surfaced—Andy's face after they'd killed Elane, cold and satisfied. The way he'd promised Patrick wouldn't have to do it again.

  "I'll handle Will myself," Andy had said. "You've done enough."

  Patrick hauled himself over the edge, collapsing onto solid ground. His chest heaved as he stared at the grass, remembering how Will had looked at him. Not with the vacant eyes of a corpse, but with horror and betrayal.

  Will had been his friend. The others were friends as well, but Will had never demanded anything from him. He never made Patrick feel small or stupid.

  He remembered the first time he found out Jesse was cheating on him. Andy had just told him to get over it. Nick wasn’t interested in his heartbreak. It was Will who helped him back to his bedroom after he got himself thoroughly drunk.

  The cheating happened more than once, of course Jesse could always convince him to forgive her. But it felt raw and painful each time. And each time Will was there to let him rant, eat and drink with him, and make sure he didn’t do something stupid.

  And now Andy would make him hunt Will down. Would probably order him to finish what that flaming sword had started.

  Patrick pushed himself to his feet, his decision made. He wouldn't tell the others Will was alive. Will was smart, he wouldn’t let anyone know he’s alive since it would mean the Heroes Party would hunt him down to finish the job.

  And even if the others find out Will is alive, he could just pretend to be fooled as much as everyone else. Not hard to do considering he was fooled right up until he reached the cliff’s edge. With a plan in his mind now formed and decided on, he headed back to the shrine.

  Andy rested the tip of his sword against the marble floor, flames flickering in the air. Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since Patrick had left with Will's corpse, and the idiot still hadn't returned. The glowing orb beneath his boot was giving him a damn migraine with its glaring light.

  "Where the hell is he?" Heather muttered, examining her nails with feigned indifference. But Andy caught the way her eyes kept darting to the archway, the tension in her shoulders.

  "Probably got lost," Jesse said, her hood casting shadows across her face. "You know Patrick. Can barely find his way out of a paper bag without someone holding his hand."

  Nick paced near the statues, his enchanted chainmail catching the light from the shrine's crystals. "This is taking too long. Something's wrong."

  "Nothing's wrong," Andy snapped, rolling his boot against The Wish. The orb's glow intensified, sending dancing shadows across the ancient stone faces surrounding them. "Patrick's just being his usual incompetent self."

  "Maybe we should—" Nick began, but stopped as footsteps echoed from the entrance.

  Patrick appeared in the archway, his armor missing, wearing only his underclothes. His hair was plastered to his head, and water dripped from his body onto the white marble floor.

  "Finally!" Andy's voice cracked like a whip. "What took you so damn long? Did you decide to take a swim while you were at it?"

  Patrick's face flushed. "I... I fell."

  "You fell?" Andy's laugh was sharp and mocking. "Of course you did. Can't even dispose of a corpse without screwing it up. Did you at least manage to throw him over, or do I need to send someone competent to finish the job?"

  "He's gone," Patrick said quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I wrapped him in my cloak first. Said a prayer. Thought... thought he deserved that much."

  "A prayer?" Andy's voice rose to a near-shriek. "You wasted time saying a prayer for that pathetic waste of space? He was holding us back, Patrick. He was nothing but dead weight, and you're standing there dripping on my shrine floor because you wanted to play priest?"

  Patrick's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

  "Unbelievable." Andy shook his head in disgust. "This is exactly why you'll never amount to anything more than a glorified pack mule. No vision, no understanding of what needs to be done. Just stumbling through life, following orders like a trained dog."

  "Andy," Heather said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "We have The Wish. That's what matters."

  Andy took a deep breath, composing himself. She was right. With Will gone and The Wish in his possession, everything was falling into place. He sheathed his sword, this time with no flourish.

  "Right." Andy bent down and scooped up the glowing orb, finally free of the damned thing pressing against his boot. His fingers closed around the smooth surface, expecting the thrum of power, the weight of destiny.

  Instead, he felt wood.

  [Toy Ball- This is a common item. A toy ball for children or pets. Spell Affect on item- Superior Light]

  His blood turned to ice. The glow wasn't emanating from within the orb—it was a simple light enchantment, the kind any wizard could cast for a silver coin. As his eyes adjusted to holding it directly, he could see the surface of the wood beneath the spell's radiance.

  A fake. Will had given them a fake.

  His mind raced, replaying every moment since they'd left the inn. Will's insistence on doing a side visit alone. The way he'd kept the real Wish hidden in his Inventory Box until the very last moment. The son of a bitch had planned this.

  "Well?" Nick stepped forward, hand extended. "You promised. Give it to me so I can go home."

  Andy's grip tightened on the worthless wooden ball. If the others discovered he'd been fooled—that he'd murdered Will for nothing more than a glowing trinket—his authority would crumble. Heather would see him as weak. Jesse would mock him. Even Patrick might grow a spine.

  "Actually," Andy said, his voice carefully controlled, "I've been thinking."

  Nick's expression darkened. "Thinking about what? We had a deal."

  "The deal's changed," Andy said, tucking the fake orb into his own Inventory Box, "You want to go home so badly? Fine. But first, you're going to do a few things for me."

  "Are you serious right now?" Nick's voice was dangerously quiet.

  "Completely." Andy crossed his arms, projecting confidence he didn't feel. "You'll help us clear that dungeon in Zephyria. Then you'll help promote my image to the masses—"

  "No."

  The word hung in the air like a blade. Nick's hand moved to his sword hilt, the enchanted weapon humming with barely contained power.

  "Excuse me?" Andy's hand found Fire-Friend's grip.

  "I said no." Nick drew his blade in one fluid motion, the blue glow of its runes casting eerie shadows across his face. "I'm done with your games, Andy. Done with your ego, your manipulation, all of IT!"

  Lightning erupted from Nick's sword tip with a deafening crack of thunder. The bolt of electricity headed straight for Andy.

  ***

  I felt a bitter grin creep onto my lips as I heard the thunder clap of Nick’s signature spell Lightning Bolt. Technically the Arcane Knight class was a fighter class. But out of all the choices under the fighter class branch, Arcane Knight allowed for learning of some serious damage dealing spells.

  Not as many or as often as for a wizard, but it supplied some good options if a sword wasn’t going to work in a fight. Based on Nick’s use of an attack, it appeared the fake Wish was discovered.

  I was lucky it wasn’t discovered before I escaped. The Scan ability was technically an ability exclusive to only Heroes which we received even before picking our class. Letting us see all sorts of details on items, monsters, and animals. Natives of this world could do the same with skills like Appraisal, Analyze and so forth. There were even spells which did the same.

  But for us Heroes the Scan ability required nothing more than to look at the item and pull a mental trigger. Thank God Andy was slow about it.

  I put the pen down and pulled out The Wish which had been residing in my Inventory Box the whole time.

  “Clever move, but not clever enough to save my hand,” I muttered, glancing at the stump. Some ridiculous part of me had been hoping the heal potion I took would cause my hand to magically regrow.

  I stared at the stump where my left hand used to be, and for the first time since Andy's sword had severed it, I really looked at the wound.

  The healing potion had done its work with ruthless efficiency. Where there should have been exposed bone and torn muscle, there was only smooth, pink skin stretched taut over the rounded end of my wrist. The flesh had knitted together perfectly, sealing off blood vessels and nerve endings as if my body had simply decided that this was where my arm was supposed to end.

  It was disturbing how clean it looked. How final.

  I suddenly found myself wanting to look at anything else so my eyes latched onto The Wish. The forgery hadn’t been perfect. The Wish pulsed with light, not just gave a steady bright glow. Also The Wish was slightly larger than the toy ball I found.

  No one noticed though and I really thought I was in the clear. I made the forgery because I thought they might try to steal it from me and maybe even use it to force me to go home. The very same fear Patrick apparently claimed they had which was why they tried to kill me.

  I figured the worst which could happen would be Andy taking it, realized it’s a fake, and us negotiating while I kept the real Wish hostage in my Inventory Box. Nothing though turned out the way I planned.

  I always assumed I was jaded enough to expect the worst in people… looks like Andy proved me wrong.

  “Caw! You have The Wish! Great prize for slaying the Demon King!”

  “Um yeah, do you know what it does?” I asked as I held The Wish up with my good hand. Osirus became a fluffier ball of feathers.

  “Not allowed to say, against the rules.”

  “What rules?”

  “Stop asking! Caw!”

  “Okay, okay,” I said with a sigh, no way was I going to tick off the one person-err animal helping me stay alive. I glanced down at the crystal, an unnatural warmth seeping into my hand.

  [The Wish- This is a UNIQUE item. Powers of this item can only be activated at the Shrine of Heroes.]

  It looked like being close to the shrine wasn’t good enough to get more details from it. I’d probably have to be standing right at the altar like before.

  I tucked The Wish back into my Inventory Box, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over me. The cave was deeper than I'd first realized, extending back into shadow. My eyes traced the rough stone walls, noting how they seemed too uniform to be natural.

  "Hey Osirus," I called to the white raven. "What is this place? Doesn't look like a normal cave."

  "Caw! Of course it's not normal! This used to be a dungeon entrance!" Osirus puffed up proudly. "Before the core was destroyed, adventurers would come here seeking treasure and glory."

  "Core?" I frowned, pushing myself to my feet with my good hand. "What do you mean by core?"

  "The heart of the dungeon! The source of its power! Caw!" Osirus tilted his head at me like I was an idiot. "Don't they teach Heroes anything these days?"

  I ignored his condescension and walked deeper into the cave, my Nightvision sharpening my sight as everything got darker. As I moved further back, I could see what Osirus meant—the cave ended in a massive pile of rubble, huge stone blocks that had clearly collapsed from above.

  "So when the core was destroyed, the whole dungeon just... collapsed?"

  "Most of it! The entrance survived because of my magnificent protection!" Osirus preened. "Though some treasures were left behind in the rubble. I am so spectacular, I have no need for such treasures."

  Something glinted in the debris. I crouched down, carefully moving aside smaller stones with my remaining hand. There, wedged between two larger blocks, was a silver chain. I pulled gently, and a pendant emerged—a stylized sun symbol with rays extending outward, crafted from what looked like pure platinum.

  The moment my fingers touched it, text blazed across my vision:

  [Holy Symbol of Liora - LEGENDARY ITEM Description: A blessed symbol of the Goddess of Light and Healing, lost during the Great Dungeon Purge. This artifact resonates with divine power. Effect: +4 Wisdom Requirements: None Note: Bound on pickup]

  The chain was surprisingly warm as I lifted it over my head, settling the symbol against my chest.

  I had never invested any stat points in my Wisdom before, I assumed it would be just like with Intelligence where my mind would feel clearer and process things faster.

  Instead I felt… less lonely? Of course I wasn’t alone right now, Osirus was here. But I felt like I was being watched by someone else and even more ridiculous, I didn’t feel alarmed by the sensation. In fact, it felt soothing and reassuring.

  I tried to ignore the feelings creeping into my mind, staring at the sun symbol pendant. Heather also wore a Holy Symbol of Liora pendant, but it was made of gold and definitely was not Legendary quality. If memory served, Legendary items weren’t unique but fewer than ten of them existed in the world.

  "Not bad for a first find," I muttered, making my way back toward the cave entrance. The symbol's weight was comforting against my chest, hidden beneath my leather armor.

  I reached the illusory wall and peered out carefully. The shrine stood silent in the moonlight, but I could see movement near the entrance. My former party was leaving, their forms distinct even at this distance. Andy led the way, his stride confident despite whatever had happened with Nick's lightning bolt. Heather walked beside him, her hand on his shoulder.

  I felt the hairs on my neck rise up as Heather suddenly turned her head towards us. No… not just towards us, she was staring straight at the cave entrance.