The fresh air hit me like a hammer. Not that there was anything wrong with the air in the dungeon, it was probably purified really well. It was the impurities that made this air precious. The smell of moisture and fresh rain, decaying leaves and other scents of the forest, and the sweet smell of freedom. The light filtering through the tree canopy was brighter than I remembered. The dungeon had a certain ambient amount of light that just came from everywhere. This was sunlight, pure and harsh. I found a sizable ray that made it through the canopy and stood within it. It was a glorious feeling, and my new senses were reveling in it. It was an all-encompassing, glorious feeling. It was also distracting, so distracting that I didn't even notice the collar going on to my neck until it slapped closed.

  The metallic locking sound brought me back to my reality as I felt my senses begin to lock down. I looked behind as the Minotaur stepped away with a self-satisfied look on his face and a curious stick in his hand.

  “Ahh…..curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!” I went for sardonic, and I hoped I got it. I only had one shot at delivering that line. I knew it was coming, but after it didn't happen in the dungeon, I figured the fuckers would have the decency of letting me enjoy a little freedom.

  “So it knows what it is?” Shy spoke up, seemingly undisturbed by the events. Shocking. Speaking of shocking, I could see Graygorn fiddling with the stick in his hand and staring down at it, confused. I was of the same state of mind until I noticed a weak buzz coming from what I was assuming was a slave collar. He must have been trying to shock me.

  “Ahhhh……..the hurts…..stop…um….please?” I was honestly appalled by my poor acting, but the cow’s face made me believe I had at least one fan as he walked over, waving his little stick around.

  “With this, you will listen to me.” He waved the thing around. It was about the size of a TV remote and had a few separate buttons. He pressed one, and the weak-ass shock returned. I was anticipating it this time and reacted appropriately, I hope.

  “Gorn, stop that at once.” The cat-girl was sticking up for me?

  “You don’t want to damage the merchandise.” Ahh….yep..fuck her.

  “Ok…Fine….You win. Let’s just get going so you can make whatever profit you can from me, and I can be rid of you.”

  “Ohh…. It’s feisty. Not like you wouldn’t do the same.” Wow! Also, fuck the fox.

  “But I didn’t. I literally held one of your hearts in my hand. You even left me a dagger while you all slept in a room that messes with you in your sleep. How long do you think you slept? An hour or two? It was more like a solid half-day. Did you know that while you are recovering, it puts you in a trance? I could have slit your throats one by one, and you would have never known. It wouldn’t matter how much you screamed. A bomb could go off in there, and you wouldn't wake anyone. I had every opportunity, and I didn’t take it. So no, I wouldn’t do the same.”

  I was a little exasperated at the end of my chastisement that I didn’t notice the buzz of the collar. I did collapse and writhe in pain once I did, though. One must play the part. Speaking of parts, the wolf was deathly silent through all of this. Once the buzzing stopped, I tried to make eye contact. He looked away, the shame clearly present on his face.

  I was expecting a death march to the gallows, but instead got a pleasant walk through the woods. The cat-girl, which I had pegged as a scout or ranger, ranged ahead of us in the forest. I would occasionally catch glimpses of her on the path ahead or at intersections when she directed us the correct way. We stayed along sizable game trails the entire way. They were wide enough for us to walk single file without snagging on trees and scrub, but I wouldn't want to try a horse down them.

  We were quiet for the most part; the only noise was the occasional stick breaking or a light grunt from one of us. I had a thousand questions. If you discounted the ones that started with ‘What the fuck?’, I still had several hundred, at least. I took the silence as an opportunity both to study my captors and the albatross around my neck. I could only see the rhinos’ backside and hear the walking side of beef behind me. I tried to look back once and received a shock for my efforts.

  The contraption on my neck was interesting to say the least. The first thing I noticed was that it was definitely not made for me. It was designed for a humanoid, of course, but was nowhere near powerful enough for someone ascended. If it wasn't for the sound the shock made, I wouldn't be able to really notice it. It tingled a bit, but no worse than licking a battery. It did seem to try to drain mana and stamina, but even out here, my regeneration was enough to keep me topped up. I was pretty sure it didn’t suppress abilities either. It did have a very minor weakening effect and a slight dulling of senses. For a mortal, this would be horrible. For me, though, it just pissed me off. It was the first real challenge I faced that wasn't a fight with Mord, so it got a great deal of my interest.

  My first investigation was how to get it off. Looking at it with my aura and giving it a slight focus I got way more information than I expected.

  Item: Common Slave Capture Collar. This iron band provides minor suppression. When activated, it also provides tracking and minor corrective measures—reduced effectiveness on creatures of E Tier or higher.

  Correct on both counts, slave collar and too weak for me. I doubted that it would even interfere with my abilities enough to hamper my fighting style. I felt Ink stir at my increasing rage, but I took a second and calmed us both down. It would not do well to leave bodies yet. I’d rather not have to scour the countryside for who knows how long to find civilization, especially given my captors’ attitude, a civilization that was likely to be hostile.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Murderous rage abated, I focused on the collar. It had magical abilities, and those abilities likely meant runes. I focused on the item with my magical senses while my mundane ones kept me walking. This worked much to my ruses’ benefit as it made me stumble and fall a few times, much to Gorn’s pleasure. He never failed in righting me, though. I attributed that to the fact that he got to do it with a cloven hoof to the ass, without a talking to from Shy.

  We walked for almost a full day before we found any hint of civilization. Leyla was waiting for us outside the ruins of a few buildings, almost fully reclaimed by the forest. I wasn’t sure if the trees were much different here than back home. They smelled and looked like a mix of pine and oak. This entire area could have been inhabited when Mord became a dungeon. The forest was mature, but a great deal of the growth, especially in the city, was younger. By their heights, they could have been as young as fifty years, well, less than the fifty cycles Mord had been aware of himself as a dungeon. It was Leyla who finally broke the silence.

  “It looks like Melka waited at least two days after we said we would return before he left with the horses, most likely yesterday or the day before. No signs of any struggles or intruders.” She kept her voice down, talking in the hoarse whisper you saw in military tv shows.

  “Can you catch him?” Shy didn't seem too concerned with the red-headed ranger's abilities.

  “If I push it, I should be able to.” She looked up at the sky, not concerned but calculating.

  “About four hours of light left. He would be going slowly, trying to keep the horses quiet. He might make the main road and hitch them off at the last village post we crossed. They had a guild associate, right?” She was smart and calculating out a plan as she spoke.

  “There indeed was. You will have to take my signet as you are still provisional. Do you have enough coin to cover the cost of horses?”

  “I can cover the carriage note, yes, but only long enough to get back here and to the post.”

  “Here, take some extra. We will need to return to Avonsil to sell the dungeon loot and claim the reward for the heart. We will settle up after that.”

  The Cat nodded her head and started out of the city. In a curiously betraying move, the fox pulled out a stick from one of her bags and pointed it at the now-fleeing cat-girl. Shy muttered a few words below my level of hearing, and a bolt of yellow light shot towards Leyla’s back. I would have shouted something, but I was surprised at her betrayal. The boys seemed unbothered by this and didn’t even look up to see the cat get hit.

  Leyla, to her credit, didn’t fall. She merely stumbled a little and turned back to look at her assailant. I saw why the boys were unfazed as Leyla gave a thumbs-up and took back off, this time at a much higher rate of speed. A wand of haste, perhaps?

  Shy made a familiar gesture, indicating we should all rise from where we were resting and follow her. We walked only a short while across what I was now seeing as the ruins of a small medieval village. She led us to a courtyard of one of the two-ish dozen buildings, though it was only foundations that survived.

  “Petior, if you will.”

  The wolf moved to the rough center of the area and set a stone the size of a hockey puck on the ground. I couldn’t see it in depth from my angle, but I could tell it was magical. He pulled out a long pole from his side pack. The pole was intricately carved and decorated with what appeared to be runes and an animal motif. When he brought the pole to the stone on the ground, it began to hover upright. Despite living with magic for years at this point, it was still a sight to see. Pete continued to perform what looked like a shamanistic ritual around what I would probably incorrectly call a totem pole. As his voice built to a crescendo, I could feel the magic build. Finally, a gentle film bubble began to cascade out from the top of the pole, creating a dome. The dome was at least thirty feet in diameter and half again as high. I felt a warm feeling of safety and comfort roll over me.

  Rogan, the Pachy, wasted no time and started unpacking his fire pit. Graygorn, however, had other plans. I saw the kick coming but chose only to dodge it enough to have it not actually hurt.

  “Stupid, worthless human. Where did you learn to walk? From a fucking duck? You are lucky nothing lives in the forsaken forest, or we would have fed you to it by now!” he emphasized his statement by slamming down on the shock button. I thrashed appropriately.

  “Gorn! What did I say about damaging it?”

  “Meh. That’s what you are for.”

  That last bit pushed the healer too far.

  “What I am for? What I am for? I am an Ascendant and a healer blessed by the feral goddess of life, her fucking horned self. It is beneath me to be even parting with you. You are a barely awakened brute with only half your loci aspected. You are barely better than it. I will not waste my power on a mortal. If it gets damaged, you will pay for its healing or give it one of your potions. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Whoa…easiy there tails….I was…” He didn’t get to finish as she rushed over and pulled him down by the horns, staring him eye to eye.”

  “Listen, you fucking cow. You are just a damage dealer, a copper a dozen. I’m a healer, my rate is gold. I’m the one who decides if you live or die. Understand?”

  “Yes…” The bull looked abashed correctly.

  “The three of you listen. If you ever want to ascend, you are going to have to work your asses off. Except for Pete, your aspected potential is not rare, but neither are people willing to pay for it. If I ever see or hear of any of you disrespecting a healer, losing guild sponsorship will be the least of my worries.” Thank you, Foxy, for confirming my theories. I had to agree with her take on healers, though. I dated one that I met online for the better part of a year. She was always in demand, and my DPS-ass only got invited because we were an item. Always respect your healer.

  I was very aware of my station in all this and seriously debating going full murderhobo on the rest of the party as their antics were wearing on me. I wanted to learn as much as possible first, even if that meant playing the slave. Slaves were not people but objects in the eyes of their owners. At best, they were pets. I was counting on that trope because pets and objects blend into the background, everyone forgetting that they were there. If my readings were any guide, slaves were privy to all the secrets. It wasn’t like I couldn’t escape at any time. I wanted to see the dark underbelly of this world. I wanted to see who and what was worth saving, and what was only an obstacle in my way.

  The party settled down as Rogan began to make what looked like a stew. I didn’t expect any, nor did I receive. Pete was kind enough to toss me a waterskin, but that was the extent of their charity.

  I settled in away from the fire, wondering how cold the coming night was going to be, and resigned myself to suffering through it. I laid my head down and curled into the fetal position. It was uncomfortable, but it gave me privacy. I had a dive to do.

  Late into the night, I finally cracked the code of the collar.

  Runes Learned!

  Rune: Minor Suppression

  Rune: Induce Pain

  Rune: Lock