A blond man appearing to be in his thirties approaches to carry Ethan by the shoulder, but he refuses with a hand motion.

  Ethan's chest and face throb with pain, but beyond that, he can walk by himself. He probes at his ribs, sensing that five of them are broken and at least two are cracked.

  The crowd disperses outside while Razak retreats to a corner of the room where he wipes away his blood with a cloth.

  "Do you want something for the pain?" the blond man asks. He speaks Eldorian with the accent and elocution of a noble. He wears the same red robe as the others, but Ethan spots a golden ring on his right index.

  "No need," Ethan refuses. Accepting drugs from strangers is inconceivable to Ethan, especially given the fact he's in a trial. He steps out of the room and notices that the doors leading to the healing bath vanished. 'That would have been too convenient.'

  "Setting up Razak's feast will take us a few hours; in the meantime, I would be happy to show you to your accommodations," the blond man says. "I'm sure you'd like to rest after your ascent and fight. If there is anything else I can procure for you, ask away."

  Ethan turns around to face the man. His tone sets alarms in Ethan's mind; he's trying to appear subservient but lacks training. His voice lowers by a few octaves every few syllables, revealing he's doctoring it to seem less authoritative. Ethan asks directly, "What do you want? Razak didn't order you to tend to me."

  Another man, with brown hair and slightly older features, smirks as he hears Ethan from the shadow of a wall. He rolls his eyes as if the blond man's gig was up.

  "I am Thaddeus Drevoss," the blond man says. He waits an instant after his introduction, searching for an inexistent sign of recognition in Ethan. His heart rate hastens slightly, reaching Ethan's ears. "As fellow noblemen, I thought you would appreciate being welcomed among us by someone akin to you."

  'At least he knows how to lie on the spot,' Ethan internally comments. He looks at the other man and asks, "And who might you be? I take it you know why he put on the nice act."

  The other man chuckles as he leaves the wall's shadow to approach. He pulls out an emblem hung by a thin chain to his neck. "I am Cedric Valmont. But by your absence of reaction, I guess you aren't from Valdoria, so those names don't mean much to you."

  'Actually, I read that name before. One of his relatives took Kingsreach after the Orcs' defeat. And I believe a descendant still holds it.' Ethan retorts, "I'm not impressed if that's what you were expecting. But I know someone in your family sits on Valdoria's throne."

  "That would be my father," Cedric specifies. "To answer your earlier question, Drevoss here wants to gain your favors before I do. Someone as strong as you would be quite the asset for either of us."

  "You are direct," Ethan comments. He looks to the side, glancing at the various Orcs and men moving furniture into an open space. They all have their own unique expressions, ways of talking, and behaviors. 'I think this realm has been using real places for all its trials. These two are acting as they would have had I been there and may not be relevant to the trial; strength is all that matters to him. But then, why not choose another time when they wouldn't be here to distract me?'

  "I'm sorry if it seemed I was trying to deceive you," Thaddeus says. His voice lowered to its natural, deeper tone. Glaring at Cedric, he continues, "I hoped we could converse without the tensions of our country's social statuses. But Cedric is honest; I need strong people like you, and so does he."

  'You pulled the noble card the moment I confronted your act,' Ethan reminds himself. He turns to the side, towards the tables being laid down, and starts walking. "I have no interest in politics. I came here to get stronger, and that's the only thing I care about."

  The open space is lined with doors leading to pantries and kitchens where pots are already boiling. A large bread oven lies in a corner, next to a series of grills Orcs are filling with coal.

  Valmont follows Ethan. He keeps a safe distance from him, slowing and accelerating as Ethan does due to his injuries. Cedric's eyes scan Ethan's clothes as if he were searching for weapons. "Where are you from, friend?"

  "We aren't friends," Ethan denies.

  "How should I address you then?" Valmont asks. He pulls back a chair and sits down. He leans on the armrest, positioning himself as if he were sitting on a throne.

  A shiver climbs along Ethan's neck, and he glances around. Everyone else is working. Those who aren't carrying furniture are setting meat on spindles, preparing vegetables, or making bread dough. Even Thaddeus started working; he carries a dozen buckets on a stick down the mountain.

  The humans working around them glance intermittently at Cedric and Ethan. They don't seem annoyed that they aren't taking part; rather, they appear to be following their interaction.

  Ethan answers, "Viktor. My last name is of no importance."

  "I take it you are not a noble then, or that we are enemies," Cedric quips. "If that's the case, you should know Razak forbids us from bringing our conflicts here. If Drevoss and I were to resolve our dispute in his domain, there would be severe consequences, and it would be the same for you."

  Razak appears from a small building, carrying three barrels above his shoulder. The Orc is humming to himself as he places them down alongside the table. Approaching, he says, "Go make yourself useful, lordling. Ghurlz spotted a wyvern last night; go with him and bring it back so we can feast on real meat."

  "I welcome the exercise," Cedric says as he stands up. He stretches his neck and motions for one of the Orcs, one covered with scars, to join him.

  The men who were checking on Cedric and Ethan's conversation try to watch Ethan as discreetly as they can. But, having noticed them before, it is easy for Ethan to spot their glances.

  "Don't take part in their useless politics; it's not what this place is about," Razak comments. He punches the lid of a barrel with a flick of his wrist, breaking it. The red wine inside releases a strong smell like fresh-cut grass and a waft of Ether. "Let it breathe; it needs a few hours."

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  "Anything I can do in the meantime?" Ethan asks, wanting an excuse to move around. 'I'm starting to have a feeling this trial isn't entirely about improving my martial arts.'

  "I thought I had hurt you more than that," Razak says with a growling laugh. He points at a door leading into the mountain. "I store herbs beyond these doors that will help restore our bodies. It's the door decorated with engraved plants. There is an herbarium if you need help. But mind my bond; she doesn't like thieves."

  "I can go with him," one of the suspicious men says. He approaches, and Razak turns his head to look at him. "He lost a lot of blood. We wouldn't want him to collapse somewhere we won't find him until it's too late, would we?"

  'Too obvious,' Ethan thinks. He glances at the other suspicious men who are watching the interaction. 'Amateurs.' Ethan shrugs his shoulders, keeping a straight, unemotional expression. "I wouldn't mind."

  "That will be a lot of arms for a few plants," Razak says, unaware of the people watching. He picks off bits of lid floating on the wine's surface to drop them onto the ground. "But if you're going, you should bring our new member to the altar. If his soul is as strong as his body, he'll be done by the time we are ready."

  "I'll try," Ethan comments, unsure of what's awaiting him.

  "Don't try," Razak cuts. "Do it."

  Ethan nods at the doors, and the man starts walking towards them. Alone with Razak, he asks, "Anything I should know about the lordling? Or Thaddeus? I'm not interested in their games, and I wouldn't want them to hinder my training here."

  "Then don't interact with them," Razak answers. "I know your kind colludes with one another like sheep, but I sense you aren't like that. Quite the opposite, in fact."

  Ethan puffs at the comment and walks towards the doors.

  They enter a long corridor made of old carved stone. Doors lie every dozen meters on each side. Engravings depicting weapons, armors, chests, and more decorate some of them. These carvings are more recent than the corridor itself, showing a brighter color than the rest.

  "There aren't many of us here. How did you find your way to an Orc's domain?" Ethan asks. Triggering predator's sight, he listens to the man's heart.

  "You know how it is; a story about a sanctuary where real warriors are made led me to ask a few questions. And a year later I'm on a boat to Dunharel." His heart races as he recites his lie. "What about you?"

  "You could say I'm on a pilgrimage; I'm traveling to places that offer opportunities to better my skills," Ethan replies.

  "Ho," the man startles. "Where have you been?"

  "Before coming here, I traveled Aldoria's wilds. There are a lot of places invaded by monsters we are yet to reclaim," Ethan lies. He has a disturbing ease recalling Aldoria's history book's contents, to the exact wording.

  "My grandparents' home is like that. It's not that far from Kingsreach, two weeks or so, but they already got a platoon killed trying to take it back." The man's heart beats steadily; he may be trying to induce sympathy, but he's being honest.

  "Sorry to hear that," Ethan fakes.

  Two hearts appear in Ethan's sight, beating languidly on the other side of a wall. Their owner sleeps curled into a ball, casting a large round figure in Ethan's sight.

  "Thank you. It's kind of the same here; we have monsters running rampant all around," the man says.

  "Razak ordered the lordling to go hunt a wyvern," Ethan says. He purposely disrespects Cedric to gauge the man's reaction. It doesn't miss as Ethan senses a twitch in the man's face muscles. "Any other monster I should know about?"

  "Many. You can ask Ghurlz about it; he's the Orc with the three huge claw scars over his chest. And a lot of smaller ones all over his body." The man stops and turns to face a pair of large stone doors. Engravings depicting leaves, flowers, berries, and more ornate them. "Here we are. Lend me a hand."

  Ethan places a hand on the left door and opens it with little effort. The doors grind open, revealing a storage room filled with plants hanging on drying racks, vials, pots, and overflowing baskets.

  'Too bad they will vanish into smoke. Some of those are on Miy?'s list,' Ethan thinks. Keeping an eye on the man, he walks towards the end of the room where lies a book on a pedestal.

  "Don't bother with that; it's written in Orcish," the man says.

  "Do you know which ones to take?" Ethan asks. He opens the book and flips its pages. The drawings are masterful, but the text is incomprehensible.

  "I know the ones that come from Aldoria," the man answers. He moves along the drying racks, pointing with his index as he searches through them.

  The heartbeats of Razak's bond grow stronger as Ethan senses it jumping to a higher level. It approaches their location, prowling in near silence to place itself above the herbarium. Its sinewy frame is that of a large feline whose head bears curved fangs from which drip drops of liquid. Twin tails extend from its lower back, coiling and lashing at the air like whips.

  Russ growls in Ethan's mind.

  'Leave it,' Ethan commands, not wanting Russ to go after Razak's bond. He watches as the man selects strands of a wheat-like plant with small red flowers instead of grains. "Who taught you about plants?"

  The man hesitates, searching too long for an answer for it to not be a lie. "My sister is an Alchemist. She has her own shop in Kingsreach; it's in the lower city, but it's quite the place."

  "What's the name?" Ethan asks. He already knows the man learned herbalism for an illegal reason, or that it's linked to Cedric. The question's goal is to destabilize the man some more, hoping he will mess up another answer.

  "Hum," the man stammers. He looks to the side as he stashes the strands he chose, before lying. "I don't remember. I'm a poor brother, am I not?" He fakes a guilty chuckle. His eyes find a set of dried flowers on the drying racks, and he forcefully looks away.

  "I couldn't say; I'm an only child." Ethan places a finger on a plant and triggers Identification. Faking reading it, he keeps his focus on the man, giving him a window to take something he shouldn't.

  Without pause the man reaches for the dried flowers he was eyeing and hides them in his tunic, tucked under his belt.

  The beast above doesn't react. It lay down in a sphinx posture, listening to them in silence.

  As the man selects other plants, Ethan identifies as many of them as he can.

  Dragon's kiss

  This plume of red flowers growing from shrubs consumes those who eat it from the inside like fire.

  Veilbane leaf

  The sap of this leaf dispels illusions infecting the mind through respiratory pathways. Overdosing causes permanent cecity.

  Evernight berry

  This blue berry induces drowsiness and rapid sleep upon consumption. Overdosing causes respiratory paralysis.

  …

  'A treasure trove of poisons. I wonder what the flowers he took do,' Ethan thinks.

  "That should be enough," the man says, showing a full basket. It holds three varieties of plants. "They all have some healing benefits and counteract each other's side effects. Plus, you can mix them with food."

  "I guess that's everything we needed," Ethan comments.

  "I'll show you the altar Razak talked about," the man says. He exits the room into the corridor, giving Ethan the occasion to snatch one of the flowers. Waiting at the door, he says, "Razak won't forget to tell this himself. You don't talk about the place I'm about to show you, not to your lord, not to your wife or children. There are people who would come here with armies to secure it, and Razak doesn't want to be bothered by them."

  "I'm not in the habit of sharing secrets," Ethan confirms. Depending on the usefulness of the place, it might be interesting to find where exactly the mountain range lies. "Why is that?"

  The man puffs and starts walking further down the corridor, leaving Ethan to close the stone doors. He guides him to the end of the building, where lies a staircase leading up to iron doors. Armored figures are molded onto them, the same as on the Abyssal Keep's doors.