The flickering lantern light cast long, dancing shadows across the rough barn walls. Jacob sat on an overturned wooden crate and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"For our first official delve," Jacob began, locking eyes with each party member in the circle, "we're only going to the first floor. We're not pushing for the boss room until we're comfortable fighting in a group. This initial run is about practicing our combat formations and developing muscle memory as a cohesive unit."
Oren uncrossed his arms and nodded in agreement. The swordsman shifted his weight on the hay bale he took as his seating place, stepping naturally into his role as the tactical coordinator. "We need to establish a solid frontline to keep the monsters away from our backliners. Sera and Jacob will anchor the rear. Thomas and I will hold the vanguard."
Oren paused, glancing between the mage and the rogue. "However, the first floor is swarming with some annoying ankle biters, from what I've heard. They love to flank the main fight. Jacob, you and Mira will need to handle the defensive flex positions to protect Sera from any ambushers slipping past the front."
Mira gave a single, silent nod from her shadowed corner. While Oren voiced his agreement with Oren's assessment of the first floor monsters.
Jacob turned his attention toward the heavy tool bench. "That leaves you, Bran. What exactly does a Tinkerer bring to an active combat formation?"
Bran let out a booming laugh that rattled the nearby hanging tools. He leaned proudly against his workbench. "Jacob and I are currently building a combat golem. I'll control it safely from the backline using a mana tether."
Bran picked up a heavy iron gear, turning it over excitedly in his calloused hands. "It won't be a true vanguard shouter right away. It lacks the advanced runic materials required to actively hold monster aggro. But Jacob and I can definitely elevate its raw combat potential to a very high level once we secure better parts."
Thomas raised an eyebrow, looking highly skeptical regarding a wooden puppet fighting real monsters.
Sensing the unspoken doubt, Bran decided to clear any doubt about his place on the team, "For now, I possess a decent level of mace-mastery. I can smash any skull that gets too close to our healer and support the front line until the golem is fully operational."
Oren assessed the tinkerer, who seemed to have a build similar to a blacksmith, considering how that would translate into damage in the dungeon, "That works perfectly. Any heavy physical damage is good help."
With the tactical positions settled, Jacob shifted the conversation toward their immediate physical preparations. "We need to discuss gear enchantments. However, we have a slight supply issue. I only have a few earth and water cores left for defensive enchantments. That supply must last until we can trade for more or harvest them inside the dungeon."
Thomas immediately reached for the heavy leather sack resting at his boots. The thick material clinked loudly as he rummaged inside. He pulled his fist out and opened his palm, revealing three cloudy, brown-hued monster cores. They pulsed with a faint yet magical light.
"I have three earth cores mixed into my dungeon spoils," Tomas showed Jacob, "So I can supply the cores for my own enchantments."
Jacob smiled, glad to have one set of enchanted materials accounted for already. "That's great, Thomas. What specific gear do you need enchanted the most?"
Thomas looked down at his bruised, heavily wrapped hands. "I need lightweight, defensive hardened leather scale armor. Something tough but flexible enough to let me weave strikes, I'll see what the blacksmith has in my size tomorrow. Besides that, my first weapons could use some reinforcement, maybe something that makes them harder and tougher. The leather leg armor I currently wear will be sufficient for the first floor if you can harden them and increase their durability as well."
A soft thud echoed across the circle.
Mira stepped partially into the light. She tossed a small velvet pouch onto the hay bale next to Jacob. The bag spilled open, revealing several of the brown, gleaming monster cores.
"I have the cores required for my own gear," Mira stated flatly. She tapped the leather hilt of the blade resting on her thigh. "I need my daggers inscribed to be much tougher and sharper. I also need my light leather gloves imbued with raw strength so I can adequately support the group."
Oren leaned forward, resting a calloused hand on his knee. "I'm going to take the heaviest hits alongside Thomas. I could definitely use a defensive enchantment for my leather trousers to keep my legs protected while I hold the line. My curiass is already an amazing defensive item, so a little boost to the trousers will help prevent any damage from the ankle biters."
Jacob mentally tallied the requests, visualizing the required rune paths and inscription layouts. He turned his gaze toward the quietest member of the group. "What about you, Sera? Do you need your robes or a weapon enchanted with any defensive effects or something else that would help in the dungeon?"
Sera smiled gently, smoothing the fabric of her simple skirt. "I'm already fully covered, Jacob. My current gear is sufficient for keeping you all healed and your spirits high. The enchantments you left me before you ran off for training will be enough for the backline."
Jacob nodded and continued addressing the group, "Before we actually step foot inside the dungeon, we need to understand how everyone moves. We need to work out a time we can gather to spar."
Oren nodded enthusiastically. He leaned forward on his hay bale. "Sparring in the dirt is fine, but practical targets are better. The woods are still hiding straggler goblins from the last dungeon break. They're significantly weaker outside the dungeon because they lack the concentrated dungeon miasma. Hunting them together would serve as the perfect live-fire exercise for our new formations."
"That's actually a great idea," Jacob agreed. "But we need a consistent schedule. What time works best for everyone?"
The simple question immediately sparked a loud, chaotic argument inside the dim barn.
Bran crossed his thick arms, shaking his head stubbornly. "I have wagon duties all morning and early afternoon. My father will absolutely skin me if I abandon the work orders before the midday heat breaks."
"Well, if we could do afternoons, I think that would be best for my schedule," Oren argued.
"I've honestly got to hit the dungeons in the late morning," Thomas agreed somewhat with Bran. "My father isn't making enough to support us at the moment since he tends to skip his morning shifts at the lumber mill. I'm usually done around mid-afternoon since I have to be careful."
"I also require the late-morning hours to forage for medicinal herbs, so early morning or late afternoon would be best for me," Sera added softly. Her gentle voice barely cut through the overlapping complaints of the heavier boys.
Mira remained completely silent. She simply leaned back into her dark corner, clearly refusing to compromise her personal, hidden schedule, only contributing with a terse, "No mornings."
Jacob rubbed his temples, listening to the overlapping voices echoing off the high wooden rafters. He raised both hands, signaling for quiet. The arguing slowly died down.
"Alright," Jacob compromised. He looked around the circle. "Mornings and early afternoons are impossible. We'll settle on the late afternoon or early evening. Two hours before dinner, every single night. We meet at the yard next to my house to start with sparring and organizing our hunting formations, then we can move on to hunting goblins in the forests. We need to learn each other's pacing, and then we can return here to eat when we're done. Does that work for everyone?"
Thomas gave a stiff nod. Bran grunted his approval. Oren smiled and slapped his knee. Sera offered a quiet, pleased hum. Mira simply blinked her dark eyes once in the shadows, providing her silent version of agreement.
With their schedule finalized, the tension in the barn evaporated. The group slowly dispersed. Bran and Oren clapped Tomas on the shoulder before heading out into the cool night air. Sera bid Jacob a warm goodnight, following Mira out the barn's side door.
Jacob extinguished the brass lantern, plunging the barn into complete darkness, and stepped out into the serene, starlit yard.
Crickets chirped loudly in the tall grass. A chilly night breeze swept away the residual heat of the day, reminding him that they were in the final weeks of mid-fall, and the frosts would soon freeze the land.
He walked up the dirt path toward the farmhouse. Soft, yellow light spilled from the kitchen windows, cutting through the nighttime shadows. He pushed the front door open, stepping onto the polished wooden floorboards.
Inside, the kitchen was nice and warm. The sweet scent of baked apples still lingered faintly in the air.
Arthur and May sat together at the sturdy oak table. Two empty ceramic mugs sat between them. Arthur was speaking in a low, animated voice, gesturing toward the brick fireplace.
May rested her chin on her hand, looking incredibly exhausted but fighting a fond smile as she listened to her husband.
Hearing the door latch click, Arthur stopped mid-sentence. He turned his head and smiled broadly at his son.
"Perfect timing," Arthur said cheerfully. He stood up from his wooden chair, stretching his back with a loud groan. He placed a gentle, calloused hand on May's shoulder. "I kept her awake with stories about the old southern fields. She's entirely yours now."
May let out a soft, melodic laugh. She playfully swatted her husband's hand away. "You were rambling on purpose, Arthur Hemlock. You knew the boy wanted to talk."
"A father has to support his son," Arthur chuckled heartily. He gave Jacob a knowing wink before walking past him toward the hallway. "Don't keep her up until dawn, Jacob. We have early chores tomorrow."
Jacob smiled, pulling out a chair opposite his mother. May folded her hands on the polished table, her tired eyes suddenly sharpening with the focused, serious gleam of an experienced adventurer. She gave him her undivided attention.
"Alright, Jacob," May said softly, gesturing for him to sit. "Your father stalled long enough, though he has mentioned a time or two that you might come seeking some advice from my past life. Ask me your questions."
Jacob rested his hands on the smooth oak wood. The kitchen was quiet, save for the faint crackle of the dying hearth fire.
May gave him her undivided attention, the maternal warmth in her eyes shifting into the hard, practical focus of a veteran dungeon delver.
"I have a lot of questions," Jacob admitted, keeping his voice low so he would not wake Lila.
"I figured you would," May smiled gently. "Where do you want to start?"
"The System," Jacob said. "What does Questing Level actually change? I know it improves the quality of quests and the rewards, but is there a catch?"
May folded her hands together. "There's always a catch, Jacob. The System pushes harder as your level increases. It offers more dangerous quests and tempts people into overreaching. It'll dangle a massive reward right at the edge of your capabilities just to see if you go for it. I think, sometimes, it's a trick to weed out the weak-willed for some reason. But it might also be a call for self-improvement. I'm not sure."
"So I shouldn't complete every quest it gives me?" Jacob asked, "Are some of them bait?"
"They can be," May nodded. "The System seems to offer opportunity, but not much wisdom. A quest can be incredibly profitable and still be quite a stupid thing to attempt. You have to evaluate the survival odds yourself. And if you still want to go through with it, bring some friends who can support you. Don't let a shiny reward blind you to an obvious trap. Sometimes the system wants to encourage teamwork even if that means splitting a reward."
Jacob nodded, absorbing the warning and advice. "Should I tell the party about every quest I receive? And how much should I reveal about my hidden class?"
"Keep your secrets," May advised, with a serious tone. "Tell the party exactly what they need to survive the delve. You're working with friends now, but that won't always be the case as a delver. Don't hand strangers your weaknesses or your hidden advantages. Maintaining your privacy will keep you safe out there."
Folding her hands over each other, she continued, "Caleb already told you about some common etiquette regarding quests, and that applies to your own party as well. You share the tactical truth, but you protect your core. That goes for rewards as well; you don't have to share the details every time unless it's critical to the advancement of the group."
Jacob processed the boundary advice, shifting his thoughts toward the group dynamics. "Does the System reward party members evenly, or does it judge individual contribution? How does Combat XP actually work in a group? I'm building a party with very uneven power."
May leaned back, tapping a finger against her ceramic mug. "It heavily judges contribution, and it knows who is in a group or party. The last hit isn't everything, even for a rare-monster fight. The System calculates the level difference, the inherent danger of the monster, and your active participation. Holding the frontline, successfully mitigating damage, and general support of the group all factor into the distribution for group quests."
"What about Sera?" Jacob asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. "Can she gain combat experience without killing monsters herself?"
A warm, knowing smile spread across May's face. She sat up a little straighter. "I was a healer, Jacob. I promise you, the System respects the backline. Healing critical wounds, cleansing poison, providing buffs, and mitigating direct damage count heavily toward experience and rewards. She'll grow just as fast as Oren or Thomas, provided she's actively keeping them alive during combat."
"Speaking of combat," Jacob said, thinking of tomorrow's schedule. "What's different about fighting monsters inside the dungeon compared to the stragglers hiding out in the woods?"
"The miasma," May stated plainly. "Outdoor monsters are decent practice, but they're starved. That doesn't mean they aren't a danger, as their combat levels will reflect their actual ability. However, dungeon monsters hit much harder and recover much faster. They utilize the enclosed terrain better, and they fight aggressively under miasma conditions. You'll feel a heavy, suffocating pressure down there that doesn't exist in the open woods."
Jacob thought back to the pressure he felt in the F-rank dungeon, realizing that his abundant mana must have already been offsetting the oppressiveness his mother was describing, even without reaching tier-1 yet.
"Thomas mentioned the monsters respawn unpredictably." Jacob stated, "How does that actually work? How do we avoid getting ambushed?"
"You learn to read the environment," May explained, her eyes narrowing as she recalled old memories. "Watch for quiet sections and pay attention to sudden miasma shifts, a change in the cavern smell, or a sudden drop in temperature. If you see undisturbed dust ahead but hear an unnatural silence behind you, the floor is resetting. You should never fully trust an empty room."
Jacob mentally added environmental tracking to his growing list of responsibilities. "What mistakes get new delving parties killed on the first floor?"
May didn't hesitate. "Overconfidence. It's never the boss fights or the giant monsters that wipe rookies. It's poor retreat discipline, bad spatial awareness, overusing abilities, and ignoring hidden flankers or ankle-biters, as some call them. They let their stamina drain completely dry, assuming the first floor is safe simply because it's the first. They die from exhaustion, and small cuts after the healer has drained their mana."
Jacob thought for a moment, "Then how do we know exactly when to retreat?"
"You need to set hard limits before you enter," May instructed, pointing a firm finger at him. "You retreat when the healer drops below half mana or when frontline injuries start stacking up. If your formation breaks apart, if your mapper gets disoriented, or if someone starts hiding their pain to look tough, don't wait for a disaster. You have to leave before the disaster arrives."
"How do I protect Sera without making her helpless?" Jacob asked, picturing the chaotic goblin fights.
"Don't smother her," May warned softly. "A healer who never learns independent battlefield movement becomes a massive liability. Let her learn how to dodge under the pressure of combat. Keep the lethal strikes away from her, but you cannot be her permanent shield wall. And make sure she learns some weapon mastery; it's a good last line of defense even if it's just a shield."
Jacob nodded slowly. "What should our first delve actually accomplish? We decided not to push deep."
"You decided correctly," May praised him. "Your first delve is a stress test. You're there to test your tactical formations, retreat signals, and your group communication. You need to practice light discipline and observe how everyone responds to sudden attacks. If you walk out with zero loot but a perfect understanding of your party dynamics, the delve was a complete success."
"Oren is the tactical coordinator, and Thomas wants me leading," Jacob noted. "How do we choose who actually leads inside the dungeon?"
"Leadership cannot be ego-based down there," May replied smoothly. "You need to split the burden amongst your individual strengths. While you lead the party's overall goals and diplomatic decisions, Oren calls the immediate combat formations. Mira should be calling the scouting hazards and trap warnings. But Sera holds the ultimate authority to call for a medical retreat."
With a smile, she continued, "You need to trust their expertise in their specific roles. While it won't be much at first, they'll grow into it and learn from their mistakes. And you've got to let them make those mistakes. That's where real growth will happen. Just don't let anyone get too hurt in those cases. The first level in our dungeon is perfect for making mistakes, as your party can handle them."
Jacob felt a massive weight lift off his shoulders. The divided leadership structure made perfect sense. He looked down at his empty hands, running through his mental checklist. "One last thing on dungeons. What physical gear should the party carry that young adventurers always forget?"
May offered a dry, knowing chuckle. "Swords and potions are obvious. Rookies always forget the mundane lifesavers. Bring thick chalk to mark your cleared turns in enclosed places. Pack heavy twine, extra clean cloth, and a spare waterskin dedicated only to washing wounds. Bring bitterroot to chew for miasma nausea and clover to help clotting while you or Sera need to recover mana. Pack extra bandages, a backup hunting knife, heavy oilcloth, strong rope, and a bone needle with sinew. And most importantly, bring emergency lighting and hard food that doesn't crumble in your pack."
With an exhale, she mentioned, "You're not going to be in there too long since you want to stay on the first floor, but it's important that you start bringing a pack with all the essentials from the beginning. It's possible that a missed trap could bring your party deeper into the dungeon than you want to go, and the extra supplies will be a lifesaver in those situations."
Jacob committed the entire list to memory. The sheer volume of practical knowledge his mother possessed was staggering. He felt more prepared for the dark tunnels ahead after the insightful explanations his mother gave him from her experience.