Avaris sat on his iron throne, a jagged, mechanical construct that seemed to writhe with the power of gears turning endlessly behind him. The throne, an eerie creation of metal and fire, hummed with an unnatural energy as his single cyclopean eye glared coldly.

  Kael had survived. He tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest. The game had only just begun.

  Vor, standing tall amidst his demon horde, lifted his massive orb. His twin burning eyes looked at the images shown in his orb. Kael, his strategist, fighting wave after wave of invaders.

  “Strategist smart and strong,” Vor said, filled with respect he didn’t often show.

  In the vast expanse of sand dunes, Nexi, the towering rock Master, stood alone, his gaze fixed upon his own orb.

  "That’s the guy that gave me the gold," Nexi said. “Go Kael!” Nexi shouted into the empty desert.

  Rova, the round, yellow Master, sat hunched over his orb, his small hovel feeling claustrophobic.

  “That should be me,” Rova whispered. "That should be me, winning the glory."

  Lira sat deep within her cave, the shadows around her growing long as the flickering light from her orb cast shadows across her red skinned face. Her wide eyes were fixed on the image of Kael fighting, her little wings on her back twitching absentmindedly. Each strike, each movement, made her heart tighten with concern.

  Finally, Kael, standing alone in his square, looked down at his orb, his fingers hovering above it. It glowed bright in his hand, a sign of his victory. His heart beat steady, his chest satisfied. Not only was Vor’s wallbreaker a success, he survived the Gauntlet.

  Zibbit’s voice broke through the stillness, announcing to the world what Kael already knew. The Gauntlet had been won, and with that, came the next part of the game.

  "Kael, you have survived the Gauntlet," Zibbit said, his voice echoing in Kael’s square but also in every other square. "And for that, he wins a spin on the brand new Gauntlet Wheel."

  Kael’s fingers tightened around the orb as he watched the spinning wheel. He had seen the rewards: 10,000 gold, 5 personal skill points, a rare artifact, a rare summon, and, of course, nothing. He knew it was a gamble, a test of his luck more than his skill.

  He could feel it. The sensation that it would land on nothing.

  It was just the way of things, the way fate worked in this twisted game of Masters and squares. Kael hoped it was fair, yet knowing Zibbit, it was going to be rigged.

  And yet… he hoped.

  Zibbit, the ever-present announcer, stood beside the wheel, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He was watching with the same sickening anticipation, his dangerous smile stretched wide across his face as ready to announce the prize.

  The wheel spun faster, the words blurring together.

  Then, with a sickening lurch, it slowed, inching toward nothing. Kael knew it. That was how the system worked. It gave you just enough to keep you playing, only to strip it away at the last second. He knew it but his heart still sank nonetheless.

  But just as Kael was about to sigh in resignation, the wheel stopped.

  It was no longer nothing. Instead, it had landed on something he hadn’t expected: Respin.

  Kael blinked, his eyes widening as the words flashed in his mind. Respin?

  It was both a victory and a curse, a second chance, but only at the cost of more time, more anticipation. He knew it meant another chance for a reward, but another chance for nothing.

  Zibbit appeared pleased as ever, his voice filled with excitement. He turned to the wheel with a grin that seemed too wide for his face. "Let’s see what you get, Kael,” he said, almost too gleeful for Kael’s liking.

  The Gauntlet Wheel spun again, this time slower, the clicks of its rotation echoing in Kael’s mind, like the slow tick of a countdown.

  The wheel slowed again, the tension in the air rising like a storm cloud, nearing the "Nothing" section once more. The bitterness of it threatened to pull him under. But to his shock, the wheel moved past nothing, past the options—and finally, it landed on something he had dared not hope for.

  Rare Artifact.

  This was it. The wheel had granted him something.

  Zibbit turned to the orb, eyes wide with anticipation. His voice almost crackled with excitement as he read aloud what appeared in the center of Kael’s orb:

  Core of Endless Recall.

  A crystal materialized beside Kael’s orb, shimmering in the dim light of the square. The crystal looked fragile, as though it could shatter with the slightest touch, yet it glowed with an intense power.

  Before he could even touch it, the Core of Endless Recall shimmered once again, shifting into the orb itself. The crystal vanished as though it had never existed, absorbed by the orb in a flash of light.

  Then, the words appeared on the orb, flashing brightly, etched in glowing symbols.

  Core Of Endless Recall - This orb upgrade allows you to resummon your defeated summon once per day without any gold cost.

  Kael’s lips curled into a faint smile as he read the words again. He had already been bringing back his summoned companions, using the resources he had at hand. This would help him save gold immensely.

  The system had tried to manipulate him, Kael thought, his eyes darkening as he reflected on the pattern.

  The Gauntlet, the rules, the constant changes—they were all set up to test him, to try to make him falter. But in the end, all it had done was make him stronger. The more the system pushed back, the more he grew in power. He had found a way to adapt, to outwit the challenges thrown at him. And now, the system’s efforts to weaken him had only made him more resilient, more dangerous.

  Kael lay on the damp grass, the coolness of the earth sinking into his back as he stared up at the sky. The day had been long. The battle with the invaders from the Gauntlet had taken a toll on his body and his mind was drained from his mercenary consultant work for Vor.

  He closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day settle into his bones. Vor would be happy with the kills and Kael would get rewarded. When he got his payout, he would finally be able to start his conclave. For the first time in a while, Kael could breathe without the constant pressure of survival or tactics pressing against his mind.

  Then the blue walls flickered.

  Kael’s eyes shot open, his body tensing immediately. The red hue that briefly flashed across the barrier made Kael’s pulse quicken.

  Invaders.

  He was still lying on the ground, but Kael knew better than to remain there.

  It could be Introductory-level invaders, or worse, bronze-level. His companions were enough to defend him—he could feel their presence, their readiness. He didn’t need to worry, not with Jello, Gerry, Xal and the others ready to hold the line.

  But still, he couldn’t just lie here. The Master of the Square didn’t lie on the ground like some defeated invader. He had a reputation to uphold.

  So, Kael quickly pushed himself up, his muscles protesting slightly from the strain of the day's work, but there was no time for hesitation. No time for rest.

  His gaze flicked toward the red walls. No sign of a full-scale attack. Yet.

  Then, he heard the creaking of a cart. And he saw him.

  A cart slowly creaked its way toward the square. The man in front of it was ever so flamboyant. Myke Keys.

  Even from a distance, Kael could see the wide grin that spread across Myke’s face, that self-satisfied smile that only someone like him could pull off.

  The cart rolled forward, the two mules pulling it steadily, with Myke perched atop the driver’s seat, grinning widely. Kael noticed something new in his smile, a golden tooth glinting like he was a king. Or a fool.

  Kael sighed inwardly, already feeling the dull ache in his skull that came whenever Myke was around. Myke was a useful ally but the constant showmanship had grated on Kael’s drawn out mind. Especially on a day as tiring as this. Still, Kael learnt to tolerate his presence. If only for the magical artifacts and rare resources.

  “Are you redecorating the place?” Myke asked, his voice as loud as ever. He pointed at the giant holes scattered across the ground, remnants of the Ardurans’ arrows from the Gauntlet.

  “Thinking about it,” Kael said.

  Myke, ever the observant merchant, spotted the Arcane Anvil and the pile of ore beside it, and his eyes lit up, a broad grin stretching across his face.

  “Wow,” he said, “those golems of yours are working really hard.”

  Kael nodded. “Yes, but I also haven’t been crafting,” he admitted

  “Why not?” Myke asked, as though it were the most natural question in the world.

  “Being a Master isn’t all free time.”

  “Why, of course. How insensitive of me,” Myke replied, bowing. “Although I must say your wares are much in demand, Master Kael. I would be happy to peddle them for you when you have them ready.”

  Kael looked at Myke’s bowing form. It always amused Kael how Myke could switch from mock humility to extravagant self-interest so effortlessly.

  “Speaking of wares, what did you bring for me today?” Kael asked.

  Myke looked at him with wide eyes, as though he had just been waiting for the question. He practically glowed with excitement. “I have the rarest and finest foods across the land!” he declared.

  “Food?” Kael blinked in disbelief.

  “Yes! Food, Kael! You wouldn't have any access to real food in a square, would you?”

  “Where are the powerful magic artifacts?”

  “You asked for rare and unique things, Master Kael. And I got you rare and unique foods.”

  “I meant weapons, Myke. Artifacts, recipes, spells. Not food.”

  “Ahh… Then tell me. What do you even eat anyways?”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “Moss.”

  “Moss?”

  Without missing a beat, Kael reached down into the grass beside him, his hand brushing the damp blades, and grabbed a clump of moss. He held it up between his fingers like a prize, dangling it in front of Myke’s face. The moss was dark green, its edges curling slightly as it absorbed the moisture of the earth beneath it.

  “Good, sustaining moss,” Kael said calmly. “Perfectly edible, nutritious, and plentiful.”

  Myke recoiled, his face a mask of exaggerated horror. He stepped back dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock disbelief.

  “You’ve only eaten moss your whole life?” Myke asked.

  Kael thought back to his first moments in the square, waking up confused and lost. Moss had been his only source of sustenance. And while the taste was alright, it kept him alive

  “Yes.”

  Myke looked at him as though he’d just revealed he had been living off dirt all this time. Which incidentally, Kael felt was not too bad either.

  “Have you ever tried food? Like proper food?”

  “Moss is proper food.”

  The look on Myke’s face could have rivaled the shock of someone learning their very foundation had been built on lies. He stared at Kael, mouth slightly agape, then sighed dramatically.

  Kael watched as Myke turned back toward his cart, clearly eager to fix the situation. The cart creaked as Myke rummaged through the various goods he’d brought, digging around with purpose. He pulled out a loaf of bread, its crust a deep brown

  Why would anyone eat something brown? Kael thought. He had seen humans do stranger things, but this?

  Yet, he took the piece. The first bite was crunchy, the exterior firm and crisp. As he chewed, something unexpected happened. The interior of the bread was soft, warm, and it melted effortlessly in his mouth, a subtle sweetness present.

  This—this was amazing.

  “This is amazing,” Kael said. He had expected something disappointing. He had underestimated food.

  “This is just my lunch. But what I really have is amazing. Now, that’s what you should try.”

  Myke chuckled to himself, his grin widening as he pulled out a heavy sack from the back of his cart.

  “That’s a lot of food for me.”

  “It’s for sharing,” Myke said. “Sharing is what makes the best things worth having, right?

  Kael opened his mouth to respond but paused.

  “There isn’t a Mrs Master of the Square?” Myke asked.

  Kael froze for a moment. His mind immediately flickered to Lira who had shared his struggles in ways no one else had. The thought of her made something tighten in his chest, something he couldn’t quite place.

  Myke’s grin widened as he caught the shift in Kael’s expression. His eyes darted down to Kael’s hand, where the Ring of Link gleamed on his finger.

  “You’re speaking to another Master, aren’t you?” Myke asked. “Unless you are cheating on me with another merchant.”

  For a moment, Kael said nothing, his thoughts spinning wildly. How did he know about Lira? Was he spying on us? Or was it simply that the connection between him and Lira was so obvious?

  Kael’s mouth went dry. But then, just as his thoughts were spiralling, Myke casually dropped the revelation, his tone teasing but thoughtful.

  “Maybe when you get to the level where you can bring down the walls of your square,” Myke said, “you and your Mrs should go on a picnic instead of waging war. There’s more to life than kills and conquest, you know.”

  The words hit Kael like a slap. Myke, with all his pompous and silliness, had an uncanny way of cutting through the walls Kael had built. For a moment, Kael was silent, unsure whether to laugh or feel something far more uncomfortable.

  "Maybe," Kael said finally. “Maybe.”

  Kael’s mind had drifted elsewhere but Myke, as always, had no sense of restraint. Too eager to showcase his latest wares to notice. The first of his goods was the tea, as Myke swirled the hot water in a small pot.

  “Twilight Blossom Tea,” Myke announced with his usual air of exaggerated importance, as though the tea were the elixir of life. “From the Great Highlands. You know, the flowers only bloom at dusk.”

  Kael watched the dark liquid pour out into two mugs, the pale darkness of it reminding him of something he couldn’t quite place. He hesitated for a moment, his mind drifting briefly back to the Golden City. To his plan to poison the water.

  “Xal.”

  There was a slight rustling sound, and then the small lizard demon appeared, his red scales flickering in the dim light as he looked up at Kael with those yellow eyes. Kael poured the tea into Xal’s mouth, watching the demon’s reaction.

  The little creature seemed to relish it, his eyes closing momentarily as he swallowed the liquid, a low rumbling sound of approval coming from deep in his throat.

  Kael’s gaze flickered to Myke. He took a sip of his own tea, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

  “Smart,” Myke said. “Can’t be too careful.”

  Kael couldn’t help but let out a small breath of relief. The tea had no effect on Xal, and Kael felt a flicker of satisfaction at the precaution he had taken. But Myke was already moving on, pulling out more food.

  First, he pulled out a Honeywine Cake, the rich purplish tart gleaming under the weak sunlight. “From the fae,” Myke said.

  The origin of the cake must be part of the allure. But Kael wondered if the fae crushed by Jello had enjoyed this treat too.

  Then, a Giant Cacti Pie appeared, and Kael raised an eyebrow. Myke looked at him proudly. “Giant Cacti Pie. Spicy, sharp, and rich. The best from the Isseri Desert, my friend. You won't find anything like it in these parts.”

  Isseri Desert, home of dangerous wild creatures and harsher weather. Kael wondered if Nexi’s square was located there.

  Myke didn’t stop.

  “Now, this is a Wyldebeast Sandwich,” Myke said with excitement in his voice, handing Kael a long piece of bread stuffed with meaty filling. “From the Beast Kingdoms. Quite the delicacy.”

  Kael took the sandwich, inspecting it briefly. It smelled rich, hearty, like something an invader could sink his teeth into after a long day’s fight. Was a sandwich like this waiting for those Beastfolk?

  Finally, Myke pulled out something else, something that caught Kael’s attention more than the rest. He unwrapped the last item carefully, revealing a small bowl. Inside was a scoop of white ice, glistening like frost under the dimming sun. Myke held it up like a precious treasure, his grin as wide as ever.

  “Everfrost,” he said. “This is something truly special.”

  Kael stared at it for a moment, impressed.

  “I won’t be able to finish all this before it spoils,” Kael said.

  Myke gave an exaggerated shrug. “I thought you might say that,” he said.

  He grabbed a small chest from the back of the cart. The chest was heavy and Myke dropped it onto the ground with a thud, then opened it, revealing an interior that made Kael’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

  “A Chest of Freezing, Master Kael,” Myke declared, “The best from the Golden City. Just toss your food in, and it'll keep fresh.”

  Kael stepped forward, his curiosity piqued. The cold inside the chest was immediate, though lacking the bitter chill from Mush’s aura.

  “How much?” Kael asked, his gaze sweeping across the spread of food once again.

  Myke’s grin widened. “Haven’t you been practicing estimating prices for your Trial of Exchange?” Myke asked. “I would have thought you would have gotten better at it by now.”

  He glanced down at the food once again, estimating the value in his mind. The price was always about perception. It wasn’t just about ingredients or labor, it was about how much value was placed on what was being offered.

  “The food... 1 gold,” Kael said. “The chest? 3 gold.”

  “What about this?” Myke asked, holding out the small pot he used to make tea. “This is a Pot of Heating—perfect for the cold nights ahead. One of my most useful items, if you ask me.”

  Kael glanced at the pot, eyeing the simple craftsmanship, the way the small runic symbols danced along the edges. It was functional, certainly, but it wasn’t anything extraordinary.

  “1 gold,” Kael said without even thinking.

  Myke sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You’re good at this,” Myke said. “I can’t even charge you more for the lot, can I?”

  Kael raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It wasn’t about the money. It was about trust, a relationship, the connection.

  “It’s fine,” Kael said, handing Myke 10 gold. “Here.”

  For a brief moment, Kael thought he saw Myke’s smile falter, his eyes widening in surprise.

  “For your troubles,” Kael said. “And honesty…”

  “A pleasure doing business with you, Master Kael,” Myke said.

  That deal done, Kael’s mind started wandering back to the discrepancy between the prices of things for Masters and for Outside Races. He saw it in action at the Master’s Marketplace.

  What was considered rare and valuable for Masters was often trivial, almost commonplace. A Dragon’s Egg for the Masters was treated as another summon. Yet, for the Outside Races, the idea of a Dragon's Egg was something close to mythical, something priceless.

  Kael, however, wasn’t foolish enough to reveal that information to Myke. No, Myke would make it into another one of his deals. Another way to make gold. And Kael wasn’t about to hand over the reins of his strategy so easily.

  Instead, Kael leaned forward slightly, testing Myke on his knowledge of rare commodities.

  “Myke, in your travels and all your expertise,” Kael said, trying his best salesman’s voice, “have you ever come across dragon eggs?”

  "Dragons' eggs?" Myke echoed. He laughed nervously, though it wasn’t the kind of laugh that matched his usual bravado. "That’s really rare… You thinking of getting a dragon, Master Kael?"

  “Well, how much would one be?” Kael asked.

  “Probably… millions of gold.” The words spilled out like an instinctive guess, but Kael could sense the hesitation beneath them.

  Kael had already anticipated this price. For the Outside Races or humans at least, dragon eggs were rare, a legend, a myth. Yet, for Masters, they were piled up by Tyrannix’s feet in the dozens.

  “If I could get a dragon’s egg,” Kael asked, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Would you be able to find a buyer?”

  Myke looked at him, stunned. "A buyer?" he repeated, his eyes wide, almost panicked.

  His eyes locked with Myke’s in a way that made the merchant pause. This wasn’t idle curiosity. Kael was serious.

  Myke hesitated before speaking again. “I could probably find someone, but it’s not a product that can be sold quickly. Maybe King Kaden from Golden City might be interested.”

  “I could get it in a week,” Kael said.

  Myke blinked. The sheer confidence in Kael’s words made him pause, and for a moment, Myke didn’t know whether to be impressed or scared. He knew that Kael was not one to make empty promises.

  “I’ll ask around. See what I can do for you,” he said.

  Myke turned toward his cart, clearly ready to leave. He paused at the edge of the cart, turning back toward Kael.

  Myke stopped and extended his hand toward him with a wide grin plastered on his face.

  Kael looked at it for a moment, a slight flicker of confusion in his eyes. What was this? Another game?

  “A handshake. This is what humans do when they complete a deal,” Myke said, his tone the most serious Kael had heard.

  Without a word, Kael reached forward, his fingers grabbing Myke’s. The contact was brief, but meaningful.

  “Until next time, Master Kael!” Myke called, his voice fading as his cart rolled away, disappearing into the forest.

  Kael stood motionless, the words that Myke had spoken repeating themselves. Dragon eggs, handshakes, a picnic.

  He reached for the Ring of Link, feeling the cool metal pulse against his skin. He had been so preoccupied with Vor and the Gauntlet, so wrapped up in Myke’s distractions and the endless challenges of the system.

  Now, he noticed how he hadn't spoken to her. How he hadn’t helped her with Ascension. How much he’d had missed her.

  “Lira,” he thought, his mind reaching toward her. “I’m so sorry. I’ve been busy with Vor, the Gauntlet... and I... I lost track of everything else.”

  The response came almost immediately. Soft, gentle, and understanding.

  “It’s okay, Kael,” her voice echoed through his mind. “I’ve been preparing my square using your plans. I’m still preparing, but I’m almost done.”

  Kael felt a flicker of relief. She was progressing. “That’s good. Can’t be too prepared.”

  “Yes,” Lira agreed, but her tone had shifted slightly, sighing. And then came the words that cut through him, soft yet devastating.

  “There’s a chance I won’t win,” Lira’s voice trembled. “A chance I won’t… Survive.”

  He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared himself for the weight of her doubt.

  “Last Sunday could have been the last time I saw you, Kael.”

  The words hit him with the force of a blow. It wasn’t just a statement, but the truth of Lira’s heart that Kael had somehow missed in his haste to move forward, to plan.

  He didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to reach out, to say something that would ease her fears, but his mind couldn’t figure out the words.

  “It’s so cruel,” Lira continued, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I can hear you... but not see you… Kael, I…”

  There was a pause. Paused for a heart beat too long.

  “I have to get ready. I’ll reach out again when I’m ready.”

  And with that, the connection was severed. Kael could no longer feel her presence.

  The sun rose in the distance, morning had come. Kael lay back, staring at the sky as the soft grass rustled beneath him, the fatigue creeping into his muscles. But he couldn’t sleep.

  He had been so sure, so confident about his Trial—no, about everything. The Gauntlet, challenging Zibbit, going into a demonic realm. He had never considered that he might fail, that there would be consequences to his actions. Not like Lira.

  He hadn’t thought about the costs. There were no resets in this world, no second chances. There was no loading back to a safe point, no way to try again if things went wrong.

  The Outside Races, the ones who had entered the Gauntlet, treated it like just that—a game. When they died, they simply reincarnated. Respawned. They didn’t fear the game because they knew it wasn’t final. They could always retry, always come back, sacrifice themselves for the opportunity to try again.

  But for Kael and for Lira, there was no respawn. There was no retry.

  The thought hit him like a cold wind. The Square, the endless fights, the strategies, all of it. The stakes were far higher than he had ever allowed himself to believe. He had been so wrapped up in winning, in the plan, that he had ignored the consequences.

  And now, the full weight of it crashed over him. The thought of never seeing her again pressed against his chest.

  Then, like a voice breaking through the fog of his thoughts, Lira’s presence touched his mind, gentle yet certain.

  “Kael,” her voice came. “I’m ready.”

  Kael watched through Twinkle’s eyes, her square was prepared for the trial. Her spiders moved in unison, their legs clicking together. There were ropes made of web, tied together for extra durability. Zombies, wearing leather armors and armed with swords stood at the ready.

  “It all looks ready,” Kael said telepathically.

  “Kael,” she began. “Yesterday, I was scared. I’m still scared. Scared to lose... scared to die.”

  “But I’m ready,” she finished.

  “You can do it, Lira. I know you can.”

  Lira’s eyes flicked to her orb, her clawed hand gently holding the orb.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Kael stood there, alone in his square. He could no longer feel her presence.

  ******