Of Tiny, Crinis and Invidia, it’s easily the third one who I have the most faith in when it comes to battle. Tiny is the strongest by a long way, that’s not a question. The bat-faced gorilla has the utility of a stepless ladder, but when it comes to fighting, he is an absolute powerhouse. When he evolves to tier eight, he might even be stronger in a straight up fight than I am.

But he has all the subtlety and creativity of a brick being smashed into its own face.

If we actually fought, I’d win, because I have ways to mitigate his strengths and cover my weaknesses. Tiny’s only option when he comes up against hardship is to punch harder but with lightning. If he ever runs into an opponent that is lightning resistant and can’t be punched to bits, then he’s straight up out of luck.

Crinis is much weaker than Tiny, especially against tough, individual monsters, but she can always escape if things get too dangerous. She can slip into the shadow realm, blind her opponent, delay them or even just ball herself up and hide. There’s options there, and she certainly has the cunning and sneakiness to pull it off.

Invidia, on the other hand, is just smart. He won’t put himself into a situation he can’t get out of. He’s slow and can’t hide at all, but he knows that just as well as I do. With his powerful senses, he would have carefully weighed the odds against his opponent and only engaged if he believed he was going to win.

When I sense his return, slowly floating along on a platform of Force Magic that he’s manipulating with his mind, I’m unsurprised that he survived the encounter. Still diligently practising in my chamber, I wait until he finishes out his shift and returns to report before asking him any questions.

When he finally floats in, I realise that he’s actually taken a bit of damage. There are slight cuts in the flesh of his eyelid and one of his wings is shredded, which explains why he’s not trying to fly.

[Holy moly, Invidia! Was it that rough?]

[It wasssss, enjoyable,] he purrs back to me, his eye gleaming in the light.

[Oooookay. Well… that’s good then, I suppose. Glad you got something out of it.]

[It wasss delicious.]

[Uh… the Biomass? Or… the sense of triumph from defeating a worthy foe?]

[Yessssss.]

Right then. Well, he might have changed in many ways, but Invidia is still a weird one.

[I’ve been meaning to ask this, but do you have something you’re cooking up other than Explosion Magic to help you fight? You may need something else to fall back on in the future.]

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He blinks his one eye.

[I will thinkssss about it,] he replies.

Well, since he’s reliable, I can probably trust him to do just that. Unlike Tiny, who won’t do any thinking at all if he can help it. I bet he’s been trying to find a way around my command to maintain his intelligence, just like Crinis went behind my back. I’ll have to remember to make that order a bit more strict before he evolves. Who knows what tricks he might have cooked up?

It doesn’t seem like Invidia wants to keep talking, so I let him wander off to wherever it is that he goes when he isn’t on the platform. He spends a bit of time here with me, naturally, but of all of us he seems to be by far the busiest. I should probably ask him about it a bit more.

After a few more days pass and, right before I go terminally insane from practising the same drills over and over again, I get a pleasant distraction when the Templars drop in to say hello.

“Hey there, gang! Nice to see you again!”

Jern, tall and hulking with his axe thrown over one broad shoulder, light-coloured hair and plain face, doesn’t really look like the fighting demon I know he can be.

Alis, with her fiery temper and nervous energy, stands next to him, as if drawn to his side with invisible magnets. With her hair cut short at the shoulders, she looks serious and businesslike, an impression that is lightly spoiled by her freckled nose and timid expression.

She always gets nervous around me. Why?

Bertran Gerond is there, a warm smile on his weathered face. Once a travelling tinker, he’s now the grandfather of the group. Tanned, balding and thin as a rake, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person to be out fighting battles on behalf of anyone, but the man has taken to his new role with a can-do attitude, applying his startling variety of skills to warfare with aplomb.

And then there’s the three children.

Allison, Trean and Emilia. Honestly, the only time I ever see them with an expression on their faces is when they look sullen and plot to get around the restrictions placed on them due to their age. Right now, their faces are blank to the point that I can’t see if there is a single thought going on in their heads at all.

Not through their faces anyway, but thanks to the Vestibule and Nave, I have other ways of getting a sense of what they’re thinking.

“Yes,” I tell them, “I think we received a shipment of cake not that long ago, so there should be some available at the mess.”

All three of them narrow their eyes, then flick sharp glances to each other.

“No, I can’t read your thoughts, not exactly, and no you don’t need special training to be able to avoid it. Sheesh, why does it always come back to special training with you three?!”

Probably because of the upbringing they received from the Nameless. That can’t be a healthy environment for young minds.

“Jern, Alis, Bertran. Nice to see you all again. Have you been well?”

“Well as can be, Great One,” Jern shrugs as he grounds his axe and leans on it. “I’ve gotten a bit tired of fighting the slimy things in the fifth to be honest. Looking forward to going into the sixth for a change of pace.”

“When are you going there?” I ask, confused, ignoring his use of the term ‘Great One.’

“When you do,” he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. The three children nod emphatically.

I stare at them.

“That is not happening!”

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