Cyrus punched through a goblin with his spear. Sparks began to arise from its disintegrating body: as the greenskin's corpse turned into ash, the fire burning it away rose up into a spiral of golden shards that floated in the air. They were a gift of the purest mana.

  Already Cyrus was stepping back to avoid the mana-gift. But he should have been watching his back. Dexter tripped him from behind, swiping his leg into the back of Cyrus's calf and knocking him down. At the same time his shield-bearer, Cameron, jumped out of the way. The golden shards shot straight into Cyrus's chest, infusing him with a feeling like pleasant flame burning and refining and strengthening everything that was him.

  It was an incredible feeling. One that Cyrus had learned to associate with incredible pain.

  – Skill Crystallization Beginning –

  Horror flooded through his body and mind. Nobody wanted to crystallize a Skill. That was because Skills manifested as crystalline shards growing from the organs. And the Skill-Grinder’s job wasn't to accumulate skills for themselves, but to grow them for harvesting, serving as living planters and contributing the crop to their ‘superiors’. As for Cyrus? He was nineteen and an ‘old horse’. His organs simply couldn't take another extraction.

  “You piece of shit!” Cyrus exploded forward, grabbing Cameron by the collar. But it was too late…

  The shield bearer smirked openly, grinning like a fool. Why wouldn’t he? His ‘clever’ trick had just saved him a painful surgery. “Accidents happen, Cyrus. It’s just bad luck…”

  “Yeah yeah, lay off him. Don’t blame your bad luck on us! Everyone's got to take their turn.” Dexter had drawn his gun. It was a spirit-forged revolver made of meteoric iron, the black metal infused with thousands of shimmering strands of star-silver. He aimed it casually towards Cyrus. “No violence on the job now…”

  Cyrus glared acid death at him, willing that the Earth would open up and devouring this smirking prick. For three years he'd been a shield-bearer and suffered every burden with complaint. Not only had he stood first in line against the monsters that spewed forth from the Gravelclaw Rift, he had been the one to absorb their mana, hosting the growing Skill-crystals in his body. That was the job of the most junior member of the team, and he’d done it to keep a roof over his family’s head, even as doctor’s visit after doctor’s visit told him his organs were deteriorating rapidly.

  At various points in his life, Cyrus’ body had been worth… maybe a million Cosm overall. In that time his total salary had been a hundred Cosm a month.

  After three years he had advanced to spear-bearer, and should have become a lancer in charge of a unit soon after, but Dexter – sniveling suck-up that he was – had married a foreman's daughter. The foreman might hate his useless son-in-law, and treat Dexter like the scum of the earth…

  But the scum of the Earth is still a step above us. Cyrus thought furiously. In this era, ‘civilian’ had become a privileged class: more than being born rich, you had been born safe.

  If you worked a normal job – like construction worker, teacher, or cop – you would be outfitted with Skills grown in the Rifts. As for the Riftborn they were second-class citizens. They had been born here, and if all went according to plan they would die here too.

  A shield-bearer was lower than a spear-bearer. A lancer outranked both. But how stupid, how short-sighted did you have to be, to lord a slightly higher position on a pile of trash over your fellow rats?

  Even with the gun pointed at him, Cyrus hauled back and slugged Cameron across the face, breaking his nose with a messy crunch.

  “Hey! I’m warning you here…” Dexter snapped. His teeth were grinding in cold fury that Cyrus had ignored him. The gun was pointed right at his head, but Cyrus looked back with contempt and not fear.

  Fear is just an instinct that gets you killed… so is anger I guess, but if you can't afford even a single lousy emotion once in a while... then you're already a dead man.

  “You need me.” Cyrus pointed out, his voice held steady like iron. “I’m already growing this thing… You’re not going to waste good crystal.” He spat at Dexter's feet.

  Dexter gestured with the gun and pointed deeper into the Dungeon. “I guess not… it would be a shame if we didn't get some glue out of the old horse.” He chuckled. “Come on, keep moving!”

  Waving the gun at both of them now, Dexter forced them deeper into the Rift.

  – Skill Crystallization Initiated –

  – Initial Value: Silver –

  – 60 minutes remaining –

  The bright cool voice of the menu chimed in his head.

  From here on out they had precisely 30 minutes to gather as much energy as possible... every goblin, slime, and orc he managed to bring down would feed the skill’s crystal growth. And not only would the skill form stronger the more mana Cyrus was able to absorb, but there were secondary benefits as well.

  Skill-crystallization made you stronger and faster and tougher over time. It was the only reason the job was even survivable, with all the extractions you went through.

  Survivable... that's a joke. The Skill-Grinder is just as expendable as the monsters in the rift. And people seem to hate us more…

  They fell back into formation. Despite how much he hated everyone he worked with, Cyrus had to admit they were the tightest crew he'd run with in years. Dexter's gun lit up targets with his Mana-Shot ability – the lancer on a crew was allowed a firearm and a single skill - igniting them with blue flame. For the next minute, their supernatural toughness was massively reduced and their resistance to magic likewise plummeted, assuming the first shot didn't kill them outright. Cameron was a creep and a toadie, but he was also sharp-eyed, with enough native mana-sense to tell when the Rift was about to spit up a new wave of monsters.

  The Gravelclaw Dungeon was an immense pit mine. Spiraling packed-earth ramps led down the walls of the massive cylindrical pit, and numerous mine shafts led off into side tunnels where monsters constantly grew. A system of colored symbols spray painted on the walls indicated which shafts were assigned to which crews that day.

  They found their sign on Shaft 21b and cleared out the first side-passage without any real resistance. The goblin Wartpack within were amassed around a filthy cyst, defending it – it was the closest thing they had to a mother, a sack of pustules with multiple bulging green glands rooted to the earth by trailing black veins.

  Goblins were the product of corrupted mana. When a Dungeon Node failed to form properly, it would collapse into a Mana-Cyst instead.

  Dexter opened fire by blowing the cyst apart, half-formed goblins crawling from the wreckage as his shot streaked through the air like a blue-white comet. The Wartpack screamed, Butchers rushing forward with rusty cleavers in hand. With goblins… the spear-bearer did most of the work. The most important thing was to keep from being swarmed.

  Cyrus stabbed left and right, his reinforced Emberflame, Boar-Hunting Spear lighting up as the volcanic glass as the point flared with fire under each impact. The first strike turned a goblin’s chest to an ashen, cinder-scarred crater. The next moment he swiped low and incinerated two of them from the neck up.

  – Goblin Butcher (Low-Stone) Killed x3 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 21% –

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Dexter finally fired again – the weakness of his Mana-Shot was the long recharge, and he hated to waste bullets on normal shots – annihilating a Shaman wearing a chest-piece of layered white bones held together by red leather. Even as it died, the Shaman unleashed a curse, dark energy trailing from its fingers like smoke and erupting into the shape of a skeletal wraith that charged for Dexter.

  Instantly, Cameron dove into the way. His shield flared with energy, radiating out a golden pulse as the spirit slammed into the metal, kite-shaped surface. The spirit hung on for a moment, bony claws lashing out at the shield as Cameron hunkered down behind it.

  Cyrus wasn’t too concerned with saving him – funny how that worked. Instead he was fighting almost off-hand, skewering the Butchers as they tried to circle around him. His footwork was fast and his spear was faster, never letting them encircle him. But his eyes were watching the walls.

  A patch of darkness moved on the ceiling above. Cyrus was already expecting it. Goblin Creeps had spiderlegs on their back that let them crawl up walls, and shadow-mana that hid them from sight until they attacked. But as this one dropped from above, bone-dagger held in a reverse-grip and plunging for Cyrus’ back –

  He spun and stabbed upwards, skewering the descending goblin by its own weight. Without pausing he continued the motion, whipping his spear in a full circle and flinging the shishkabob’d corpse off the spear-point to slam into an oncoming trio of Butchers.

  Two of them went down in a tumble and Cyrus killed the third with a lunging spear-strike as it faltered, trying to retreat, suddenly alone and not-so-brave. Before the other two could rise, his spear had finished them off.

  – Goblin Butcher (Low-Stone) Killed x5 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 54% –

  – Goblin Creep (Low-Stone) Killed x1 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 61% –

  – Goblin Shaman (Mid-Stone) Killed x1 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 75% –

  It was brief, brutal, and in the end? Just another day’s work.

  It’s forming in my heart… Cyrus thought as they swept the room for loot, picking up the scraps: stone-grade spirit obols, Stardust, and black pearls of filth-mana. He could feel the center of the accumulating energy, and it was right on the source of his pulse. Extraction? No. It will be an execution…

  If I don’t fight back I’m going to die here. But they don’t realize how dangerous that makes me. I have nothing left to lose, and everything to gain…

  He had kept his mouth shut, and Dexter had been too smug to bother asking, but the Skill slowly crystallizing within him was Silver: the highest rank that spawned within the Gravelclaw Dungeon. The safeguards to keep someone from escaping with a Skill were tight…

  But if he managed to get out intact, it was a Skill that could make him a respectable member of society.

  — — —

  – Goblin Butcher (Low-Stone) Killed x11 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 100! –

  – Skill Upgrade (1) Earned –

  – All Boons gain 0.1 Genesis Luck –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 47% –

  – Goblin Creep (Low-Stone) Killed x6 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 89% –

  Goblin Wartlord (Mid-Stonel) Killed x1

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 99% –

  – Goblin Shaman (Mid-Stone) Killed x1 –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 100! –

  – Skill Upgrade (2) Earned –

  – All Boons gain 0.2 Genesis Luck –

  – Skill Upgrade Progress at 9% –

  They cleared two more Goblin Wartpacks on their way down the pit. Cyrus could feel the mana-burn as the Skill condensed, forming in his heart. Why did it have to be the heart…?

  Every time you filled up the progress, you earned another Boon: a small boost to the skill’s end potential. Stacking them up also increased the chance of every Boon being a worthwhile prize, instead of a bonus level or an insignificant modifier. Once a Skill-Grinder began crystallizing, it was a rush to earn as much mana as possible. When every payday shaved years off your life you aimed big or went home in a coffin.

  All the while Cyrus was waiting, watching, calculating his shot.

  Dexter had the gun, but he could be killed with one good hit. Cameron had the shield, but he wasn’t allowed a weapon, precisely because he was supposed to be the Skill’s host, and they didn’t want hosts in the position Cyrus was:

  Waiting. Waiting for something to go wrong, and his chance for escape to appear.

  They were halfway down to the base of the pit when a faint shiver crept up Cyrus’ spine. “Heads up. Realm-Shift coming on…” Cameron said suddenly, sniffing the air. And Cameron’s mana-sense was almost never wrong when it came to bad news.

  Dexter hesitated for a moment, then looked back up. They had a long way to go to get back to the Safe Zone at the top of the mining pit. But a Skill-crystallization was his payday too… and every one knew Dexter had gambling debts that ran deep. Deeper than any normal Skill-Grinder would be allowed to rack up. “What’s your progress at?” He snapped.

  Cyrus saw the opportunity. “About seventy-percent…” He lied through his teeth.

  Dexter scowled again, his lip riding up to show teeth. “Fine then. One more clear.”

  You're gambling with more than just my life... Cyrus thought and suppressed a grin as he made his way down towards the next marked shaft. A Realm-Shift was the moment when new subrifts opened to suck in mana rapidly, while the main rift at the bottom of the Dungeon spat out a new wave of roaming monsters. At the end of the process the subrifts would either collapse into a Mana-Cyst or grow into a new Node to be farmed. Either way, every Realm-Shift was a moment of chaos for the Dungeon work crews.

  Skill-Grinders weren't even qualified to survive in the rush of beasts that would pour out of the newly opened subrifts. That was when their superiors, the Sweepers, would come on down to clean up.

  And in that confusion, I make my escape… Nobody but these two clowns know I started absorbing a skill, so the first step is, get rid of them. Cyrus’ looked from Cameron in front of him – who was chewing on a candy bar as he walked – to Dexter bringing up the rear. Dexter was definitely more alert. It was probably just the Realm-Shift that had him on edge, but he hadn't put the gun away once. Dexter would be more difficult than Cameron.

  All together they descended down a creaking elevator lift to the next tier of ramparts running along the edge of the pit.

  Halfway down the klaxon alarms started ringing and red lights flared from the walls. A tinned, growling voice crackled from speakers. “Five minutes ‘till Realm-Shift! Evacuate all Skill-Grinders. Repeat, evacuate all Skill-Grinders!”

  Dexter cursed and struck the wall with his fist as the world was bathed in red light.

  Cameron just turned back and shrugged, candybar hanging from his mouth. “Hey boss, we uh, we really gotta head back. And hey, it's not like either of us is going to be meeting the surgeon…” He grinned a nasty grin. At the end of the day his broken nose had been a price worth paying to escape the extraction. There was a reason shield-bearers were hated, even by other Skill-Grinders… of course, you hated your lancer too.

  Down here? You hate everybody. Cyrus thought. The job was set up that way. It kept everyone at each other’s throats. You hated your subordinates because you expected them to betray you, hoping you would die and open up a spot for promotion. And you hated your superiors because, well, you were waiting for them to die and open up a spot for promotion.

  They keep the food at starvation level so the rats eat each other…

  And right now? The rats were hungry.

  Cameron had crossed a line by questioning his lancer, and Dexter snarled, “Yeah?”

  Before Cameron could even realize his mistake Dexter had stepped forward and smashed the butt of his pistol into the man's broken nose. Cameron screamed, and Dexter whipped at him again across the face. “You idiot! Who put you in charge, huh?! What, is your worn out little girlfriend going to think you're a big man, coming home with a few dozen Cosm in your pocket!? Some of us have a lifestyle to maintain! Fuckin’ move it!”

  His eyes were red. Drugs, Cyrus thought. He came to work high…

  Dexter waved his gun towards the nearest empty shaft entrance. “This one will do!” Poaching other Skill-Grinder’s territory wasn't unheard of… but... Cyrus couldn't have been more delighted with the choice. The shaft wasn’t marked with any group’s sign. It was marked with a mutation symbol. The Mana-Cyst within hadn't just evolved goblins to defend. It had a mutagenic cocoon that would hatch an advanced enemy. There was no way of knowing if what would come out was a goblin or an orc, but it would always be nasty.

  Go on. Pick a fight you can’t win…

  I’m happy to see how the two of you survive without my help.

  And if the monsters don’t get you…

  I will.