Level Four

We stood at the edge of the web-choked cavern in silence, catching our breath. The fire from Shadowheart’s last spell still glowed faintly on the stone, but there were no more threats, no skittering legs, no poison dripping from the ceiling. Just stillness.

And then, a sensation spread through my body. Not pain. Not pleasure. Something in between. Like a long-held breath finally exhaled, and with it, a surge of power settling into place. I opened my UI. There it was. Level 4.

"Well," I muttered, flexing my fingers. "That’s a good feeling."

Lae’zel was the first to react. She stepped away from the ledge and turned her blade in her hands, testing its balance, running it through an elegant arc that ended with a decisive vertical slash. "My strikes feel truer," she said simply. "More final."

Great Weapon Fighting, then. I could almost see the mathematics in motion behind her scowl. More damage output. More kills. The Githyanki way.

Karlach gave a short laugh and shook out her arms, rolling her shoulders like she was warming up for another round. "Oof! Something just clicked. I could punch through a bloody oak tree right now."

Savage Attacks. Her strikes would hit harder, dig deeper. Not subtle, but very Karlach.

Shadowheart stood quietly a few paces away, her eyes half-closed. Her lips moved silently, no sound escaping. After a long moment, the space around her shimmered slightly. A ripple of quiet. Then it vanished.

"That was new," I said.

She opened her eyes, nodding once. "I can silence a space now. No sound. No words. No magic. "

"Silence," I echoed. A powerful tool. Disruption, control, defense—all wrapped into one spell.

She smiled faintly. "And I can take a bit more of a hit now. Felt it in my core."

Resilient, then. More Constitution, better concentration. She would stay standing longer. Withstand more pain. Interesting..

As they each tested their new feats, I scrolled through my own changes. No new curses this time, but my Charisma had increased by 2 points. Spells would hit harder. My words would cut deeper or seduce smoother. The impact was quiet, but significant.

And more than that, I had something else. Another trick. Another secret. I dug through my bag and shifted aside some loose coins and a few dried rations until my fingers brushed something slick and unpleasant.

The hag hair.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Karlach was throwing jabs at the air like a boxer on her fourth coffee. Lae’zel ran through her forms. Shadowheart knelt, murmuring incantations beneath her breath. None of them were looking at me, I did not want an audience for what I was about to do.

I brought the hag hair to my lips.

It was thick and slimy. It stank of grave rot and bog water. It felt like swallowing a leech. I gagged halfway through, **** it down, and washed it with one last swallow from my waterskin.

It was the worst thing I’d ever tasted.

And then, warmth. A subtle shift. I stood straighter. My hand brushed through my hair.

+1 Charisma.

Five points in one day more than made up for my lackluster level ups. That kind of stat gain? Huge.

I turned toward the others, smiling faintly. Shadowheart looked up first, sensing me. Our eyes met. I winked.

She blushed. Not much—just a flicker of pink in her cheeks. But more than before.

Oh yeah. This was going to be fun.

I dusted off my trousers and joined them. "Alright, pack up. Let’s get the hell out of spider town."

Just before we started moving out of the Matriarchs chamber, I saw something glinted in the dust. I knelt and picked it up.

A huge purple gem, the size of a grape fruit. Faceted. Smooth.

The girls gathered around.

"That looks expensive," Karlach said, peering over my shoulder.

Shadowheart leaned closer, her lips parting. "That’s... unusual. It hums."

Lae’zel didn’t move, but her gaze stayed fixed on the stone.

I turned it in my hand, recognizing the shape. A key piece to unlock a certain book, not too far in the future.

"Might be worth something. Might be something else. Either way, it's worth bringing along" I said, slipping it into my bag.

With the the gem in the bag and no boss carcas to loot we began to make our to a path leading upwards to a hole in the cave ceiling, a few sunrays led the way like a beacon, threading through scorched webs and the twitching remains of chitin and fang.

That fight had gotten way too close for comfort. The tremble in my fingers lingered, a reminder of just how near I’d come to being spider food. Withers’ words echoed in my head—"I cannot restore you if you fall"—and once again, I took them to heart. I couldn’t afford to ride blind luck again. If I wanted to keep pulling off these stunts and stay ahead of whatever fate or madness I was tangled up in, I’d need to be sharper. Smarter. Sneakier. No more near-**** miracles. Not if I could help it.