Klein woke to his fourth morning in Tertius with an arm that still throbbed despite Brunhilde's salve and a pouch containing 360 copper—enough for nine days if he was careful, or three if he wasn't.
The baseline optimization had worked overnight. His claw wounds were sealed, fresh pink tissue visible when he changed the bandages. Still tender. Still a liability in combat. But functional.
[PHYSICAL STATE: Integrity 74% → 78% (+4% overnight recovery)]
[EMOTIONAL DAMPENING FIELD: 82% - Stable]
Klein dressed and ran the morning's mathematics. 360 copper in his pouch. Ward inspection today would earn 20 more, bringing him to 380. Minus 40 for lodging and 10 for food meant 330 remaining by tonight. Still solvent. Still surviving.
But the numbers told a darker story.
Weekly income: 60 copper from ward inspections.
Weekly expenses: 50 copper minimum (lodging + food).
Net surplus: 10 copper.
Ten copper weekly wouldn't buy better equipment. Wouldn't accelerate trait acquisition. Wouldn't build the buffer he needed before something went catastrophically wrong.
The Forest Cat hunt had been profitable—450 copper from one crystal—but Klein's analytical mind refused to let him forget the cost. He'd gotten lucky. The trap had worked. The Cat had been alone. Synel's advice had been accurate. Any one variable different and he'd be dead.
Klein couldn't count on luck. He needed competence. And competence required time and resources he didn't have.
The compound interest equation was working—each day's progress built on the previous—but the returns were diminishing. His Elf Scout observation had jumped from 9.2% to 13.1% yesterday during Synel's training. That was a 3.9% gain in one hour. Good progress. But pushing from 13% to 20% would take longer. From 20% to 50% longer still. The learning curve wasn't linear.
And he still had zero acquired traits. All observation, no actualization.
Klein strapped on his knife and grabbed his spear. The morning's ward inspection wouldn't complete itself.
The north gate guard was different today—an elf woman with a golden Hail and the kind of posture that screamed military background. She studied Klein's ward inspection token and his empty Hail space with equal suspicion.
"You're the Neutral."
"I'm the ward inspector." Klein kept his voice level. "Contract work for Marcus. Third inspection this week."
She stepped aside but kept her hand near her weapon. "Post three's degradation is accelerating. Marcus ordered a replacement crystal. Should be installed by tomorrow."
Klein nodded and moved through the gate into the misty pre-dawn gray.
The perimeter walk was becoming routine, which was dangerous. Routine bred complacency. Klein forced himself to focus on each post individually, extending his spiritual sensitivity to detect anomalies.
Post one: clean pulse.
Post two: clean pulse.
Post three: worse than yesterday. The stutter in its rhythm was pronounced now, like a heart skipping beats before failure. Maybe five days until catastrophic breakdown if they didn't replace it soon.
[Ward Magic observation: 1.6% → 2.1%]
The trait was progressing, Klein's Basic Observation Multiplier working passively. His enhanced spiritual sensitivity made the ward distortions more noticeable, more detailed. He was learning to read the rhythm, to distinguish degradation from anomaly from clean function.
Posts four through seven: clean.
Post eight.
Klein paused at the familiar position. Something about the anomalous post nagged at him—a pattern his analytical mind kept circling back to. The distortion wasn't just stable. It was precise. Too precise for natural degradation.
He'd dismissed it before as "not his problem unless it failed." But Klein's survival instincts had been sharpened by four days of threat assessment, and those instincts were screaming that dismissal had been premature.
Klein extended his spiritual sensitivity fully, pushing deeper than he had on previous inspections. The Evaluator system—upgraded with enhanced analytical capability—engaged automatically.
The wrongness crystallized immediately.
The spatial distortion wasn't knotted randomly. It was woven. Layered. Multiple modifications stacked with surgical precision that spoke of advanced magical knowledge and deliberate intent.
This wasn't degradation. This was construction.
Klein's Evaluator processed the pattern, but the results were incomplete.
[EVALUATOR ANALYSIS: Ward Post #8 Anomaly]
STATUS: Stable
ANALYSIS: Intentional Magical Weave detected. Origin Signature: Non-Standard.
CONFIDENCE: 65%
PROJECTED FUNCTION: Unknown. Structure does not match known degradation or standard ward patterns.
Klein froze.
Someone had modified Thornhaven's wards. Intentionally.
The realization settled with uncomfortable weight. Not degradation. Not experimental maintenance. Deliberate construction by someone with advanced magical knowledge.
But why? What was the purpose?
The Evaluator couldn't tell him. The confidence was too low, the data insufficient. Klein only knew that the weave was there, that it was intentional, and that it didn't match anything he'd observed in the other posts.
Klein forced himself to breathe steadily, maintaining external composure while his mind raced through implications. The Dampening compressed his spiking heart rate into manageable structure.
*[EMOTIONAL DAMPENING FIELD: 82% → 85% - managing acute threat response]*
Klein pulled back from post eight and forced himself to continue the inspection. Posts nine through twelve barely registered as he moved through them with mechanical precision, his mind already composing the report to Marcus.
Forty-five minutes total. But Klein covered the last half in fifteen minutes of forced focus.
He walked back through the gate faster than usual.
The elf guard noticed. "Problem?"
"Need to report to Marcus immediately."
She studied him for three seconds, reading his body language with trained precision. Whatever she saw made her step aside without further questions.
"Go."
Marcus was already at his desk despite the early hour, crimson Hail casting warm light across ledgers and maps. He looked up when Klein entered and immediately set down his quill. Klein's expression must have communicated urgency.
"What happened?"
"Post three is five days from failure. Maybe less." Klein kept his voice level through sheer force of will. "The replacement crystal needs installation as soon as possible."
Marcus made a note. "It arrives tonight. We'll handle it tomorrow morning." He started counting copper coins. "That's your twentieth—"
"Post eight has been modified."
The word hung in the air between them.
Marcus's hand stopped mid-count. His crimson Hail pulsed once, sharply. The administrative mask shifted into something more focused.
"Explain. Precisely."
Klein laid out the findings with clinical detail. The intentional weave structure. The non-standard origin signature. The Evaluator's analysis showing deliberate construction rather than natural degradation. He was careful to note the limitations—65% confidence, unknown function, insufficient data for complete analysis.
"My system analyzed it as deliberate modification," Klein finished. "The weave pattern is too precise to be accidental degradation. Someone with advanced magical knowledge constructed this. But I can't determine its purpose yet."
Marcus was quiet for ten seconds. His expression had shifted from administrative focus to something more calculating.
"You're certain it's intentional construction."
"Sixty-five percent confidence from the Evaluator. The weave pattern doesn't match any natural degradation signature I've observed across the other posts. It matches deliberate engineering."
"And you can identify this because…?"
"Because I purchased an Evaluator upgrade specifically for enhanced analytical capability," Klein said. "And because I've been studying every ward post for four days. The pattern at post eight is fundamentally different."
Marcus stood and walked to his window, looking out at Thornhaven's perimeter. When he spoke, his voice was carefully controlled.
"We don't have test nodes. Every ward post in this settlement uses standard First Wave configuration." He turned back to Klein. "Whatever you found at post eight—it wasn't placed there by anyone from Thornhaven."
The implication settled like lead weight.
"Someone infiltrated our defenses," Marcus continued, his tone measured but serious. "Someone with advanced magical knowledge. They've been inside our perimeter long enough to modify critical infrastructure." He paused. "But you say it's stable?"
"Yes. No signs of degradation or imminent failure. Just... different. Intentional."
Marcus returned to his desk and pulled out a sealed ledger, writing quickly. "How many people know about this?"
"Just us."
"Keep it that way." Marcus's crimson Hail pulsed with controlled intensity. "If word spreads that our defenses have been tampered with, we'll have panic. Possibly desertion. Half the settlement would flee into the forest before nightfall."
"Understood."
"I need to bring this to Aldric. And Corvus—if anyone can understand the nature of an intentional weave, it's him. Between the three of us, we'll determine next steps." Marcus met Klein's eyes. "But for now, we watch and gather data. Continue your inspections. Monitor post eight closely. Report any change, no matter how small. Any deviation from stable—any at all—comes directly to me."
Klein absorbed the instruction. He'd just become essential to an ongoing investigation. That made him both protected and exposed.
"Twenty copper for today's inspection," Marcus said, counting coins with controlled precision. "And a bonus of thirty for the intelligence. Your analytical capability continues to prove its value."
Klein pocketed fifty copper. The financial position updated automatically: 410 copper. But the comfort of increased funds was offset by the new variable in his survival calculation.
Someone powerful enough to modify Thornhaven's wards was out there. And Klein had just painted himself as the person who could detect their work.
"Continue your inspections as normal," Marcus said. "If you notice any other anomalies—any at all—report directly to me. We need to know if there are more compromised posts."
Klein nodded.
"Dismissed. And Klein—" Marcus paused. "This may turn out to be nothing. An old experiment someone forgot to document. But if it's not..." He didn't finish the thought. "Keep your eyes open."
Klein left carrying the weight of information that could either make him essential or get him killed.
Probably both.
Klein made it three steps outside Marcus's office before someone grabbed his shoulder.
"You're the one who killed Rajesh."
The voice was male, angry, accented with the kind of performative rage that came from an audience. Klein turned slowly.
A human man stood there—mid-twenties, athletic build, crimson Hail pulsing with barely controlled aggression. His face was twisted with anger that looked practiced. Behind him, a small crowd had gathered in the common area.
Klein's right hand moved to his knife—not drawing it, just positioning for access.
"I testified at a verification," Klein said. His voice was level despite the Dampening working overtime to compress his spiking heart rate. "Captain Aldric made the decision."
"Bullshit." The man leaned closer. His Hail flared brighter. "You gave him the excuse he needed. Rajesh was innocent and you condemned him for copper."
Klein met his gaze. Analyzed the threat. The man was angry, but it felt performative—making a point rather than starting a genuine fight. His stance was aggressive but not committed. His hand wasn't near a weapon.
Theater. Not actual violence. Yet.
"You're right," Klein said quietly. "Rajesh was probably innocent. And I testified anyway. Because I was calculating my own survival odds, and I made the choice that kept me alive."
The honesty seemed to surprise the man. His anger flickered, confusion bleeding through.
"You're admitting it?"
"I'm acknowledging reality." Klein's Dampening held his voice steady. "Aldric couldn't verify Rajesh. Marcus needed the cell space. I had information they wanted. The mathematics were simple."
"You're a fucking monster."
"Maybe." Klein picked up his spear from where he'd leaned it against the wall. "But I'm a living monster. Rajesh is dead. Those are the only facts that matter."
The man stared at him, something like disgust warring with reluctant respect in his expression. Finally he stepped back.
"You belong in the Demonic Kingdom," he said. "You'd fit right in with the rest of the self-interested sociopaths."
He walked away, leaving Klein alone with renewed weight of reputation.
The common room's conversations resumed, but Klein felt eyes on him. Judging. Calculating. Wondering what kind of soul murders strangers for copper and admits it without shame.
Klein left the building and found breakfast—five copper for porridge that tasted like nothing but filled the gap anyway.
405 copper remaining.
He ate alone, processing the morning's discoveries while the Dampening compressed his anxiety into manageable structure.
Thornhaven's wards had been modified. Someone with advanced magical knowledge had infiltrated their defenses. Klein was now monitoring the anomaly for Marcus. And somewhere in the settlement or beyond, whoever had created that weave was still out there.
The compound interest equation had just acquired new variables. Potentially dangerous ones.
Klein found Synel in the training yard, moving through forms with the same liquid grace that had fascinated Klein since their first meeting.
[Elf Scout observation: 13.1% → 13.4%]
Just watching generated progress. Klein's observation trait was always working now, cataloging movement patterns, analyzing efficiency.
Synel completed his form and turned. "You survived the Forest Cat hunt."
"Barely." Klein gestured at his bandaged arm. "And only because your advice was accurate."
"Advice is cheap. Survival is execution." Synel studied Klein's posture. "You look tense. More than usual."
Klein considered how much to reveal. The ward modification was supposed to stay contained. But Synel had been nothing but helpful, and Klein's analytical mind flagged the value of having an ally who understood real threats.
"Long morning," Klein said carefully. "Ward inspection revealed complications."
Synel's golden Hail pulsed with interest, but he didn't press. "Marcus mentioned you're interested in continued training."
"Two copper per session. Daily if possible."
"That's expensive for a fresh spawn."
"Dying is more expensive."
Synel's expression shifted—something that might have been approval. "Fair calculation." He gestured to the practice spears. "Pick one. We'll work on footwork today—you move like you've never been in a real fight."
"I haven't."
"Obviously." Synel selected his own practice spear. "Most Divine souls spend years training before their first real combat. Most Demonic souls rely on raw aggression and figure it out through violence. You're Neutral, which means you get neither tradition."
He moved into a guard stance. "So we'll build from zero. Footwork first. If you can't move efficiently, everything else is pointless."
They trained for two hours. Klein's body protested—healing wounds pulling, muscles burning, feet aching from precise positioning drills. But the Dampening compressed the discomfort, and his observation trait cataloged every correction.
[Elf Scout observation: 13.4% → 15.9%]
The progress was significant. 2.5% gain in two hours. But Klein also noticed the trend—yesterday's hour of training had netted 3.9%. Today's two hours only gave 2.5%. The learning curve was flattening. Each percentage point was getting harder to acquire.
Diminishing returns.
"You're processing faster than most," Synel said during a water break. "Your ability to learn and replicate is working overtime."
Klein tested his footwork—the refined stance, the weight distribution, the positioning that Synel had drilled into him. His body knew it now. Not gracefully, but functionally.
"It's accelerated learning," Klein confirmed. "But the gains are slowing. I'm hitting diminishing returns on observation alone. I need acquired traits for actual capability."
"How close are you?"
Klein checked his status mentally. "Stalker's at 21%. Forest Cat at 8%. Elf Scout at 16%. All observation, zero acquisition."
"That's weeks away at minimum," Synel said. "The threshold for trait acquisition gets harder the closer you get. You're looking at a month, maybe more, before you acquire your first trait. That's a long time to stay vulnerable."
Klein knew. The mathematics were brutal. Even with accelerated observation, even with daily training and hunting exposure, he was looking at weeks before acquiring actual capabilities. Weeks of baseline vulnerability in a world with 83% Metamorphor mortality rates.
He was surviving on luck and preparation. Neither was sustainable long-term.
"I need to hunt more frequently," Klein said. "Build observation faster. Maybe push Stalker if I can find isolated individuals."
"That's suicide mathematics."
"It's survival mathematics. Ward inspections generate 60 copper weekly. I need 50 just to stay fed and housed. That leaves 10 copper surplus—not enough for equipment, not enough for emergencies, not enough for anything except slow starvation."
Klein met Synel's eyes. "I need trait acquisition before something kills me. That means hunting. The question is whether I hunt smart or hunt desperate."
Synel was quiet for a moment, considering. His golden Hail pulsed thoughtfully.
"Be careful, Klein. Desperation makes people take risks they can't calculate properly. And you strike me as someone who survives by calculating everything."
They finished training. Klein paid two copper, reducing his pouch to 403.
The investment felt necessary. But Klein was acutely aware of the cost—two copper daily meant 14 weekly, which consumed his entire surplus from ward work.
He was treading water financially. Making just enough to stay alive, not enough to get ahead.
The compound interest equation required capital. And Klein was running dangerously low on both money and time.
And now there was a saboteur. Or an experimenter. Or something else entirely.
The variables kept multiplying.
Lunch was five copper—mutton stew that tasted like regret.
398 copper remaining.
Klein returned to his room and spread his resources on the table:
398 copper (9 days minimum survival)
Iron spear (adequate quality)
Basic knife (backup weapon)
Rope (50 feet, partially used for trap)
Bandages and medical supplies
Ward inspection contract (60 copper weekly + investigation bonus)
Training with Synel (2 copper per session)
0 Potential Points remaining
Knowledge of ward modification (value: unknown, danger: uncertain)
He stared at the numbers and felt the weight of insufficient progress compounded by new complications.
Four days in Tertius. Still zero acquired traits. Still baseline vulnerable. Still surviving on preparation and luck rather than actual capability.
But now Klein also knew Thornhaven's defenses had been modified. Knew someone with advanced magical knowledge had access to the settlement. Knew that Marcus was watching the situation but not in crisis mode yet.
The Stalker pack had almost killed him on day one. The Forest Cat hunt had wounded him despite optimal trap placement. And Klein was acutely aware that he'd been lucky—lucky Synel found him, lucky the trap worked, lucky the Cat hadn't brought friends.
Luck wasn't a strategy.
Klein needed traits. Needed actual capabilities. Needed to stop being a baseline Metamorphor whose only advantages were analytical thinking and emotional compression.
But trait acquisition required observation. Observation required exposure. Exposure meant risk. Risk meant potentially dying before the compound interest mattered.
The equation had no clean solution. And now it included variables like "modified ward posts" and "settlement investigation" that Klein couldn't properly calculate.
Hunt solo: higher risk, faster trait progression if he survived.
Stay in Thornhaven: minimal risk, minimal progression, slow financial suffocation while living atop tampered defenses.
Klein thought about his mother. Her faith that he'd take care of everything. The money he'd never sent. The debt he'd never pay.
I'd failed her.
I wouldn't fail my own survival.
Klein made the decision.
Tomorrow: hunt solo. One more Forest Cat. Push the observation trait toward 15-20% if possible. Acquire the crystal, build financial buffer, accelerate progression.
Thornhaven's crisis—if it became one—wasn't his to solve. Marcus and Aldric would handle the investigation. Klein's job was to survive long enough to matter. To acquire traits. To become something more than baseline vulnerable.
Risk calculated. Preparation adequate. Survival probability... uncertain.
But better than the alternative.
Klein checked his status one more time:
[CURRENT STATUS]
Copper: 398
Integrity: 78% (healing)
Traits: Elf Scout 15.9%, Stalker 21.3%, Forest Cat 8%, Demonic Mage 8.9%, Others progressing
Balance: 46% Divine / 54% Demonic
PP: 0
Next milestones: Trait acquisition at 80% observation, financial stability, survival past week one
New variables: Ward modification (stable but concerning), settlement investigation ongoing
The numbers were insufficient.
But they were all Klein had.
He lay down on his bed as twilight approached. His fourth night in a world designed to kill Metamorphs before they became threats.
The Dampening held his anxiety at 85%—elevated from the morning's discoveries, but still functional. Compressing the weight of insufficient progress and new uncertainties into manageable structure.
Tomorrow he'd complete his ward inspection. Earn his copper. Check post eight for changes. Then return to the forest and gamble everything on a hunt that might kill him or might finally give him the trait progression he desperately needed.
Survival first. Everything else after.
Even if "everything else" included becoming something capable of more than just surviving.
Even if the settlement around him had mysteries in its foundations that someone else would need to unravel.
Klein closed his eyes and let exhaustion drag him toward sleep.
The ledger kept growing. The compound interest kept building. The variables kept multiplying.
And Klein kept calculating the mathematics of a life where every choice cost more than he could afford to pay.
[EMOTIONAL DAMPENING FIELD: 85% - Managing elevated threat awareness]