Tyler followed Calix through the gates of the town, Seshka close behind him, her hand still resting on the haft of her spear. Jason, the bull man, stepped in beside Calix while Magda looked at them with what Tyler interpreted as disgust before growling quietly and storming off in the other direction.

  The wooden gate slid shut behind them with a dull thud, the soft noise making Tyler glance back. No one was there to close it. Was it some sort of mechanism, rope and counterweight maybe? For some reason it felt off to Tyler, but he couldn’t quite explain why.

  Inside, the town felt calm — almost lazy, like it hadn’t woken up yet, or it was an early Sunday morning and most people were still in bed. There were some people about, but they moved unhurriedly, almost lazily, like they were daydreaming.

  A woman with bark-like skin was sanding the edge of a wooden beam with what looked like a glowing sponge. Sharp splinters of wood flew into the air and turned to dust. A tall, thin figure with long silver hair knelt beside a small patch of herbs. She was carefully tending each leaf, delicately, as if it might bruise under rough handling.

  No one had any weapons, Tyler thought as he looked about. No blades at hips. No bows slung over shoulders. No armour. Even Jason, who looked like he could break a tree in half with his hands, carried nothing but a thick leather apron tied around his waist.

  “This,” Calix said proudly, spinning slightly as she walked backwards in front of them, “is Pilton Hays. Profession village, neutral ground, no aggression, no duels, no nonsense. A little slice of heaven, you might say.”

  Jason snorted quietly but said nothing. The gesture made Tyler think who would need weapons if you had his build. He was about five feet tall, two white horns on his head, an elongated face with a protruding nose that had a large metal ring through it. His muscles seemed off, though — large and bulging under thick, dark skin, but not normal. Well, not for a human anyway. They grew in different patterns, more square in places too.

  They walked toward the large building in the centre. It stood taller than the rest, its wood darker, reinforced with thicker beams and etched with faint geometric carvings that Tyler didn’t recognise at all. They could be decoration, religion, or any number of things. He should ask when he got a chance.

  “What kind of professions?” Tyler asked instead, wanting to know what this place had to offer. How advanced were these professions? Did the system give some sort of advantage like it did with classes?

  “All kinds,” Calix replied brightly. “Alchemy, governance, cultivation, architecture, inscription, culinary paths. You can see Hipson over there — she’s just progressed to level eight and is now going to upgrade the buildings in this place. You know, I think when she’s finished people won’t want to leave at all. Anyway, you’d be surprised how far someone can progress without ever swinging a weapon.”

  “And the system allows that?” Seshka asked sharply. “Sounds a lot like mana chasers to me.”

  Calix tilted her head. “The system rewards all progress along a path. It never said that path had to come from blood. It might take a little longer, but everyone’s path progresses here. Don’t tar us with the same badge as those who get stuck.”

  Seshka’s jaw tightened. She looked like she was going to respond but instead looked away at nothing in particular.

  Stepping into the large building, Tyler instantly noted that the air was cooler. His first thought was because it was shaded, but no — he felt a breeze. Something was chilling the air inside, like air conditioning. He revelled in the relief for a moment, until his wet clothes started biting into him. He should have at least changed his top.

  A long central table ran through the middle of the room, covered in parchment, small glass vials, wooden tokens, and neatly stacked ledgers. On one wall hung a large wooden board carved with names and numbers beside them. He recognised several names. He guessed the numbers might be their levels?

  Tyler stepped closer to get a better look. “Levels?” he asked.

  “Profession levels,” Calix corrected gently. “Not combat.”

  He scanned a few.

  Magda – Scientist – 7

  Hipson – Carpenter – 8

  Calix – Governance – 9

  Helna – Alchemist – 7

  Tyler felt something flicker in his chest. He thought back to him ambushing that spider, nearly killing it. He reached for the wound in his arm. It had almost completely healed, but he could still feel the shame in the small scar that remained.

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  “You can level without killing,” he said quietly. It was more to himself, but the others heard.

  Jason folded his arms. “Most here don’t even have combat classes.”

  “Because they are stuck,” Seshka said flatly. She turned to Tyler and gave him a stern look, as if to say these people are lying to themselves. But Tyler wasn’t so sure.

  The room was quiet for a moment, until Calix smiled, walked up to Seshka, and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t say stuck,” she said softly, “but I would say safe.”

  She nodded at Tyler, and he found himself nodding back in agreement. Why would you go out and fight, risk your life, for gains you could get safely just by working?

  Calix moved around the other side of the table, resting her fingers lightly on the edge and addressing everyone there.

  “Some of us have seen what happens when the system pushes too hard. Relentless advancement. Endless competition. Trial after trial until only the most adaptable survive. Why should others not have just as much right to live and grow?”

  “This is nonsense. I have never seen anyone with just a profession base above level ten in the entire empire,” Seshka said, almost pleading with every word.

  “And what empire is that? Where are you from?” Calix asked.

  Seshka never responded. She just kept looking at Tyler, her eyes seemingly growing wider by the second.

  “I am from a place called Virellan,” Calix said casually. “Integration happened long before I was born, and it nearly wiped my race from the multiverse. It was only by looking within ourselves that we realised we are better than the system. We can be more.

  “My home world is in a sector that spans at least fourteen galaxies, and there is no war, no fighting, no killing. I have not seen a person with a combat skill above level two.”

  Calix walked around the table, gently grabbing Seshka’s arm and turning her to face her.

  “The multiverse is a large place,” she added. “You can’t know every corner of it. Just because you haven’t heard of profession-only paths doesn’t mean they aren’t common.”

  Seshka frowned. “In my sect, if you stop advancing, you die.” Her bottom lip quivered slightly at the words.

  “In ours,” Calix replied calmly, “if you advance without wisdom, you die faster.”

  Silence followed for a long while, Calix still holding Seshka’s arm, until Seshka’s gaze lowered to the floor. Calix smiled and walked back round the desk, slowly and deliberately, as if she’d just won an epic battle.

  Tyler felt a little sorry for Seshka. What if all she’d ever known was war, fighting? What if she’d never had the chance to do something else? He walked towards the board again, wanting to take the focus off her.

  “I see you have a perimeter fence and gate. I don’t see anyone with weapons either. Why the wall then? Are you expecting trouble?” It was the first thing he could think of, the thing that had played on his mind since he walked into this place.

  Calix’s smile didn’t falter. “We don’t invite violence.”

  “That doesn’t answer the question,” Tyler said, feeling a little put off by the reply. He hated it when people weren’t direct and skirted around a question.

  Jason’s nostrils flared slightly, a faint puff of smoke curling upward.

  “We defend when necessary,” he said simply.

  Calix clapped her hands once, the sound muffled by fur, and walked to Jason, placing her hands on his large shoulders.

  “But that’s enough heavy talk for now! You’ve only just arrived. There’ll be plenty of time for more serious debates, I’m sure.” Her hands started waving about, as if wafting the conversation away.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small token, handing it to Tyler, the large smile still on her face.

  “Temporary residence. It’s a small house on the west side. It does have two rooms, so you should both be fine there. Anyone the system shows this path to is welcome to stay. Please, observe, explore. If you need anything, just ask. I am sure after a day or two you will have a better idea what this place is and how it can help. Just press the token to the door, it will do the rest”

  “And if we don’t like what we see?” Seshka asked.

  “Then you leave,” Calix replied immediately. “No one is forced to remain. I would never knowingly harm anyone’s path. It would go against my own doing so.”

  Tyler caught something there. He wasn’t quite sure what, but the phrase no one is forced to remain didn’t sit right with him. It bothered him more than it should.

  Jason stepped aside, clearing the path to the door, rubbing his big hands on his leather apron as he did.

  “Food’s distributed at dusk,” he said gruffly. “Common hall.”

  Calix brightened again, her smile seemingly bigger every time Tyler looked.

  “You’ll meet others. I’m sure you’ll find something that suits you. Especially you,” she said, looking at Tyler.

  Tyler just smiled, feeling a little awkward at being singled out. Then again, he doubted very much Calix would say that to Seshka. She’d bark back in her face if she did.

  They stepped outside. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows between the wooden buildings. Calix pointed toward a modest house near the edge of town.

  “That’s the house there. The token you have should open the door. Do let me know if there is anything you need. Oh, and make yourselves at home. We can catch up later.”

  With that, she walked away, still smiling. Jason stamped after her after realising he was standing by himself.

  The house was simple but sturdy. Inside, there was one main room with a table and chairs, and two small rooms on either side with beds already made up. A single window pointed toward the centre of town that, strangely, let enough light in to illuminate the whole place.

  Tyler stepped inside first. It felt comfortable to him, almost like a sense of normality was coming back. He turned to look at Seshka as she walked through the door. He thought she might feel that same sense of normalisation returning.

  That’s not what he saw.

  She had a face of thunder, her eyebrows pointed down as her eyes pierced him. She breathed heavily through her nose, and Tyler swore he could see a little bit of white foam at the corner of her mouth.

  “What the hell was that?" She said through clenched teeth. "We need to leave right now!”