[POV: Rachel]
Being Rank S should mean glory and power, but lately we haven't been on good terms, thanks to the "incident" with that F-rank guy.
"Did you learn to cook from the internet, Saulo?" Somel's shrill voice echoed off the cave walls.
The Demonologist pointed her staff at the bowl of stew as if to cast a curse on the dish.
"I'd rather eat dirt than this crap you made!"
Saulo, the Prophet, didn't even look away from the makeshift fire. He kept that passive-aggressive smile that bothered Somel.
"Oh, really?" With his voice laden with sarcasm, he flashed a huge smile at Somel. "How about you come here and cook in my place? Oh, I forgot... the only one who knew how to cook was kicked out of the group for being Rank F, wasn't he?"
"Shut up! You idiot, did you want him to die?" Somel hissed, her face turning red.
"He didn't have to participate in the fights, just make the food, you fool."
I ignored their argument, focusing on what was in front of me.
Gor, our leader, our Templar class Tank, was crouching in front of a simple wooden chest, worn from use.
"It's his, isn't it?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. My voice came out hoarser than I intended.
Gor nodded with a grim expression.
"The seal on the side has his initials. Alaric must have forgotten it in the wagon before..." He hesitated.
I stared at the object.
Honestly, I don't like Alaric, he was too weak. Gor is around 30, I'm 25, and Alaric is about 18, but everyone calls him a boy, as if he were a child, and he doesn't even fight to assert himself and prove his masculinity. I've been a brute Berserker since I was born, weak men irritate me... But I feel like we were too harsh with his expulsion. The silence Alaric left behind and that look of defeat irritated me a lot at the time, but now I feel very sorry for him. Damn it!
And now there are also these useless discussions and household chores that none of us, "the legends," know how to do.
"Let's just open it," I said impatiently, trying to shake off my discomfort. "He's Rank F, Gor. There's probably just rags in there. We'll never see him again anyway."
Gor hesitated, his gloved hand hovering over the wooden lock.
"Muniz and Saulo will raise hell if they find out we touched his stuff. They still act like we kicked a puppy off a cliff."
"Muniz is on guard duty and Saulo is busy," I retorted, curious to know what that weakling had in there. "Open it up, leader."
Gor sighed and forced the lock.
Inside, carefully organized, were butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies that still looked fresh, some colorful candies, and a wrapped sandwich.
I let out a laugh.
Gor's eyes widened.
"Seriously?" I teased, shaking my head. "A stockpile of snacks? Did the guy think we were going on a picnic?"
Gor let out an audible sigh, his shoulders relaxing, and a smile of relief spread across his face.
"By the gods... for a moment there, I thought we'd find an orphan's diary or his family's last savings. If it's just food, then we don't need to go after him to return it.
"You were going to return it?" I took the chest from his hands.
"Relax, Gor. You did him a favor. A guy who carries sweets into a Rank S dungeon wouldn't last two minutes on a real adventure. He'd end up in a coffin."
As I spoke, I took one of the cookies. I put it in my mouth, ready to chew and finally eat some sweets after so long without seeing any.
"Is there more?" I started to say, my mouth full. "When we kill the Demon Lord, we can give him and his family about 100,000 gold coins as a gift, since we're heroes... we're... he... rois..."
The words died in my throat.
The feeling was scary.
There's something about Titans that no one knows exactly how it works. We have complete control over our physical attributes.
[Titan Body - Rank S]
[Can reallocate
And I can sense exactly how much strength, agility, and stamina my targets have.
[Titan's Senses - Rank S]
[Ability to estimate the attributes of
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
I needed to see it with my own eyes.
"Open Status!"
My forehead creased so hard it hurt. I stared at the piece of biscuit in my hand as if it were a cursed artifact.
"Rachel?" Gor's voice sounded distant. "What is it? Did the boy try to poison us?"
He reached out to touch my shoulder, a gesture of concern from a leader. The moment his fingers touched my shoulder, something inside me snapped.
"Don't touch me!" I growled, slapping his hand away violently. The sound echoed through the cave.
Before he could react, or before the pain of surprise could pass across his face, I clutched the chest to my chest and fired.
My feet, heavy with Titan strength, cracked the ground with each step as I ran into the darkness of one of the side tunnels, fleeing the light of the bonfire.
My expression was locked in a confusion of confusion and a dread I couldn't explain.
"What's wrong with her?" I heard Somel's voice, stopping his argument with Saul mid-way.
"Raquel!" Gor truly cried, but I didn't stop.
I went away, returned to the dungeon entrance, stopped there and checked if anyone had occurred to me.
"Open status!"
I wanted to see it again.
The mistake I made.
I ran away because I knew Gor would comfort me; I know this guy, and all I want now is to correct my mistake.
The guy ranks F… What is he? I need to find him, he needs to get back with the group.
[NAME] Rachel Tirana
[CLASS] Titan
[LEVEL] Rank S → Rank SS (temporary)
[STRENGTH] Rank S → Rank SS (temporary)
[ENDURANCE] Rank A → Rank S (temporary)
[AGILITY] Rank A → Rank S (temporary)
[MAGIC] Rank D → Rank B (temporary)
[SPELL] Rank E → Rank C (temporary)