“Level 50 is a huge milestone, one that almost nobody reaches,” Torwin said. “And to do it at your age… Frankly, it’s insane the number of times you’ve risked your life and are still breathing. Were you always this reckless or have you gotten worse since I met you?”

They were sitting in a camp about a hundred miles northwest of the Verdant Belt, hopefully far enough away to avoid any trouble with the local soldiers who might come looking for the three missing bounty hunters when they didn’t report back in. If they were lucky, the trio had been working completely independently and no one would be following up with them, but neither felt like trusting their safety to that possibility.

Velik shrugged. “I don’t think I’m leveling that fast.”

“Well, yes and no. You know how most people don’t make it past level 15 or 20 because their class is their job and that’s as strong as they need to be to sew clothes or bake bread? And combat-oriented classes level far faster anyway, but you’ve basically gone through what hunters call the Silver Bump, which is when new hunters suddenly shoot up in levels because they’ve moved on from whatever weak monsters lived around their homes to actively seeking out stronger monsters.”

“We went over that when I was in the guild,” Velik said. “The instructors said it was a common phenomenon, and that we should be careful not to overestimate ourselves because it coincided with the highest mortality rate in the guild by far.”

“It’s one of the big reasons the guild forces bronzes and silvers to work in groups. They’d rather it take you five years to get to silver in a group than six months on your own, because people who go out on their own don’t tend to live long enough.”

Velik had plenty of memories of his own experience going through that level bracket, except he’d done it at age twelve with no support and only a spear he’d purchased using precious decarmas he’d scrounged up over years of careful monster hunting. Somehow, against all odds, he’d survived that crucible, a feat he attributed mostly to his too-powerful unique class.

These days, he regularly punched up ten levels or more, especially if the monster wasn’t an elite, but back then, it had been all he could do to fight monsters that were equal to his own level. There’d been a lot of close calls, and prior to gaining [True Form] and its incredibly powerful regeneration last year, he’d had plenty of scars from all the fights that hadn’t gone well.

“I remember when I was a fresh bronze,” Torwin said. “Gold seemed like an impossible goal. Hell, I think I was older than you are now by the time I hit level 20. I probably never would have even gotten that far if a horde hadn’t overrun my hometown.”

He trailed off toward the end of that, obviously lost in memories. Velik let him stew for a few minutes, not knowing what he was supposed to say, or even if he should say anything at all. He didn’t know the story, but it wasn’t hard to guess. When a monster horde got going, it either killed everyone in its way or it broke against someone strong enough to kill it.

In Torwin’s case, Velik was betting his town was in the first category. He was probably one of the few survivors, and had lost his entire family. It would certainly explain what had motivated the man to become a hunter in the first place. Relatively few people wanted a job with such a low life expectancy, even if it did pay quite well. Those who were in it for the money almost invariably quit or took an administrative role in the guild within a few years, assuming they lived that long.

“Anyway,” Torwin said. “Level 50. Congratulations. You’re probably in the top thousand strongest people alive right now just going by level, maybe the top hundred when you consider your unique class and racial subtype.”

“Thanks,” Velik said, but he was impatient to move the conversation forward. “Actually, I wanted your advice on something. I was considering another mana sensing skill, but—”

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“No!” Torwin said. “That’s a bad idea. I know [Mana Sight] has made it harder for you to function, not easier. Don’t add another layer of difficulty to that.”

“But you have to get multiple senses covered to combine them into [Mana Sense],” Velik pointed out.

“Yes, but you don’t want to do that while you’re actively traveling and fighting for your life against monsters. That’s something you do when you’re comfortable and safe, not on the road. Don’t even consider picking up another mana sensory skill until you’ve completely mastered [Mana Sight] or it’s folded into something else and the effect has been sufficiently diminished.”

That wasn’t terrible advice. Having experienced [Mana Sight] in a dungeon that messed with space, Velik could attest to how disorienting the experience it had been. On the other hand, the skill had provided him with the answer to cutting through the cage the dungeon had tried to leave him in. He might have eventually ripped it apart accidentally, but it wouldn’t have been a quick or an easy process.

“What about a touch or scent skill?” Velik asked. “That wouldn’t be too distracting, and I’m sure I could merge it with [Mana Sight].”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, but hell, kid, you made it this far without my advice. You know yourself. If you think you can handle it, then do what you want. Maybe wait until we’re back over the mountains first.”

That was a fair compromise. He could sit on an open skill slot for a week or so, then work on mana sensing later. He was already convinced that getting the actual [Mana Sense] skill was well worth the effort. Even just being able to see mana had given him incredible insight into what monsters—or people, for that matter—were doing, letting him dodge or stop deadly attacks far more easily.

There was another option, though. A new skill had appeared on his class list when he’d hit level 50. It was called [Blood Decay], and it appeared to be some sort of magical poison that greatly weakened whatever he struck with it. It was an active skill, but he’d spent his free points in mystic for the last fifteen levels or so. The stat was impressively robust now, even if it was nowhere near physical.

Much like how [Burden of the Beast] only worked against a specific type of monster, [Blood Decay] would be limited to monsters that actually had blood, and would probably be countered by things like flesh beasts with high regeneration, but it was still undoubtedly a powerful skill. The real question was whether it was redundant with his dagger already being heavily enchanted to do something similar.

He shared the skill with Torwin, who contemplated it silently for a few seconds before saying, “It’s a fine skill, but I don’t think I would take it unless you plan on continuing to increase your level. That’s something you’d need if you’re taking down extremely powerful monsters that require whole groups at our level, and those only show up once a decade at most. You’d want it if you were going to tie yourself to the throne and be on retainer as a first line of defense against catastrophic monsters.”

“You don’t think it would be worth it for fighting on my own?” Velik asked, surprised.

“Skills like this usually take time to become effective. How long do most of your fights last? A minute? Two at most? Almost every single monster you’re ever going to encounter for the rest of your life is going to be something you can kill in a single hit unless you go looking for something stronger, like up in the mountains.”

Velik couldn’t disagree with that logic, but there was one thing Torwin hadn’t accounted for. “I still have the quest to find the source of the corruption and destroy it. I can’t imagine the monsters are going to get weaker as we get closer to that.”

The old [Ranger] nodded. “That’s why I said ‘unless you keep leveling.’ You’re eighteen. You’ve probably got another sixty or seventy years of life in you if you’re careful. And, honestly, you’re not that careful, Velik. If you don’t go looking for trouble, you’ll probably never need [Blood Decay]. But you’re planning on following this quest to the end, so maybe you’re right and you should take it.

“On the other hand, you’re level 50. You’re probably not getting another skill slot after this one. Even if you do, that’ll likely be the last one. I don’t think there have been more than three people in recorded history to reach level 70. I’m not judging you for your build choices. You did what you needed to do in order to survive, but as I understand it now, you’ve got five skills that you’ve got no clue how to merge together.

“I suggest you think very, very carefully about your future build before you impulsively take whatever seems like the best choice right now. This could be the last empty skill slot you ever see without spending a lot of decarmas to erase one, and trust me, that’s not a pleasant experience to live through.”

“That’s… true.” Velik frowned and thought about it. “Thank you for the advice.”

“No problem,” Torwin told him. “Now, I believe we’re safe enough to afford a real break. How about you pull a cask out of that storage space for me?”