The shoreline still smelled faintly of garlic and ozone.
Phong did not celebrate right away.
Instead, he waded into the shallow edge of the lake where the fighting had been fiercest and recovered two things himself.
The captain's trident.
The head mage's staff.
He did not keep them as trophies.
He mounted them.
The trident he drove deep into the soil just outside the chili perimeter, its prongs facing the lake.
The staff he lashed beside it with vine fiber.
A message.
Clear.
Final.
Dominic watched him finish.
"Symbolism?"
"Warning," Phong said.
Janet nodded with approval.
"You built a scarecrow for lizardmen. I have to admit, I'm impressed."
Alexandra stood beside them, silent, her eyes still scanning the lake.
When the weapons were in place, Phong stepped back.
Then he did something entirely ordinary.
He tended the garden.
He trimmed the charred Bonktato vines with care.
He removed dead chili pods.
He inspected the onion rows.
He reset and redistributed the garlic bulbs.
The Moletato network pulsed softly beneath his palms as he worked.
War might rage.
Plants still needed care.
Behind him, the gang gathered in a loose circle.
Dominic opened his status panel first.
"Twenty-eight."
He grinned.
Janet checked hers.
"Twenty-nine."
The other three spoke almost at once.
"Twenty-seven."
"Twenty-eight."
"Twenty-seven."
Alexandra hesitated before speaking.
"Almost thirty."
The words settled heavier than anyone expected.
Level 30.
The threshold.
Only a handful of divers in the world had reached Level 30. Most were controlled by governments. Others belonged to corporations with budgets rivaling small nations.
They were called A-class divers.
The line between competent and elite.
Between good and great.
At Level 30, classes evolved.
Not just stat growth.
A structural transformation.
Elite class.
And for rare classes like Mind Blade, the evolution could be terrifying.
Dominic looked at her.
"You're about to join their league."
Alexandra did not smile.
"I'm about to become visible."
That was the real weight.
Phong stood and wiped soil from his hands.
He looked at her.
"You'll cross it on your terms."
She met his gaze.
"Maybe."
Phong did not let the mood sink too deep.
Instead, he lit the fire pit.
Hotpot night.
Celebration.
Steam rose as broth began to roll.
Bug meat sliced thin.
Shiitake layered in.
Sweet potatoes cubed.
Garlic and ginger went in too, carefully measured this time for flavor rather than detonation.
Snow Lime wedges rested on a wooden plate.
Soda cans popped open in chorus.
Dominic raised his.
"To almost Level 30."
"To surviving," Janet corrected.
"To agricultural warfare," someone added.
Rico climbed onto a crate and raised an empty can.
"To culture."
They laughed.
The hotpot bubbled.
The broth thickened.
Steam carried spice and comfort through the air.
Then the mountain answered.
Heavy footsteps.
The Troll King descended again.
Not alone.
Several trolls followed him down the slope, moving slowly and deliberately.
They stopped just outside the chili perimeter.
Then they sat.
Cross-legged.
Watching.
Not aggressive.
Curious.
Dominic blinked.
"They're... attending?"
Phong nodded once.
"Ceremony."
He carried baskets of cooked Moletatoes to the boundary.
Roasted in tallow.
Skins crisp.
Insides fluffy.
The Troll King accepted them with solemn dignity.
"Ground-walkers," he rumbled in approval.
Phong also offered Bonktatoes.
The trolls sniffed them.
Then politely declined.
They preferred Moletatoes.
Rico puffed out his chest.
"Ah. Fellow creatures of culture."
The Troll King chewed slowly and looked toward Dominic.
"FIZZ-FIRE MAN."
Dominic laughed and tossed a soda can over the boundary.
The Troll King caught it cleanly.
This time he opened it carefully.
The trolls behind him watched the technique closely.
The lake stayed quiet.
For now.
Inside the perimeter, the kitten settled beside Alexandra. Its tail wrapped neatly around its paws as it ate small slices of bug meat with refined indifference.
The puppy sat almost on Dominic's boot, staring up at him like he was a hero from legend.
Dominic scratched behind its ears between bites.
Janet kept refilling bowls.
The hotpot simmered.
Soda cans clinked.
Mountain and camp shared something close to peace.
Phong stepped away from the fire.
Quietly.
He prepared one last offering.
Cooked Moletatoes.
And Bonktatoes.
He placed them on a wooden board and carried it to the shoreline.
He set the board just beyond the mounted trident and staff.
A neutral line.
A message without words.
Truce.
De-escalation.
One last chance.
Phong stepped back and pressed his palm into the soil.
The Moletato network pulsed softly.
Behind him, laughter rose from the fire.
Ahead of him, the lake shimmered faintly in the fading light.
If the lizardfolk accepted, the war might cool.
If they refused, he had already made his decision.
Mercy had been offered.
Twice.
He looked back at his people.
At the trolls sitting outside the chili perimeter like oversized guests at a strange summer camp.
At Alexandra, almost Level 30.
At Dominic and Janet.
At the puppy and kitten.
At Rico lecturing a half-empty soda.
Camp Stymphalian was no longer just a farm.
It was a coalition.
A boundary.
A line drawn between mountain and lake.
The hotpot bubbled louder as someone added more broth.
Soda cans clinked again.
And beneath the lime tree, Phong waited to see whether Lake Baratok would choose peace.
Or force him to harvest something far more permanent.
Janet raised the topic the next morning while reheating leftover broth.
"We need to talk about Level 30."
Dominic did not look up from polishing his shield.
"We are."
"Seriously," she said.
Alexandra sat across from her, a slice of Snow Lime floating untouched in her cup.
Janet folded her arms.
"You're a hair away."
"I know."
"Once you cross it, you evolve."
Alexandra nodded.
"Mind Blade becomes Elite."
"And that paints a target," Janet finished.
Silence settled between them.
Nearby, the other three members of the team, Jake, Jack, and Joanne, reorganized equipment while pretending not to listen.
Janet continued calmly.
"If you hit A-class before the rest of us, our clearing speed jumps again."
"And we don't want that," Alexandra said.
"No."
Jake spoke hesitantly.
"Floor Two is already rough without you going all out."
Jack added, "You're our heaviest hitter."
Joanne nodded.
"It'll slow us down."
Janet shrugged.
"That's not entirely bad."
They looked at her.
"If we want to stay off the radar," she explained, "slower progression helps."
Dominic finally looked up.
"She goes third."
Janet nodded.
"After us."
She pointed between herself and Dominic.
"Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. We reach thirty first."
Alexandra thought for a moment.
"Third in the party."
"Third," Janet confirmed.
Not first.
Not leader.
Not the face.
Strategic.
Controlled.
Alexandra leaned back slightly.
"Fine."
Not reluctance.
Calculation.
"So I stay here for a while," she said.
"Yes," Janet replied.
Dominic grinned.
"Welcome to agricultural boot camp."
Alexandra smirked.
"I'll survive."
Phong stood nearby, pretending to sort mushroom logs while he listened.
He overheard Jake, Jack, and Joanne whispering.
"It's going to be brutal without her on the frontline," Jake said.
Jack nodded.
"Floor Two doesn't scale down for our feelings."
Joanne shrugged.
"Janet's right though. Less spotlight."
Phong blinked.
Jake.
Jack.
Joanne.
Janet.
All J.
He stared at them.
Dominic noticed.
He walked over and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Why do you look like a bird just did something to your head?"
Phong blinked again.
"All your names start with J."
Dominic stared at him.
Then burst out laughing.
"You just noticed?"
"What?"
"They were called the Four Js before I joined."
Jake raised a hand proudly.
"Brand identity."
Jack added, "We even talked about merch."
Joanne said flatly, "Dominic ruined the symmetry."
Dominic puffed out his chest.
"I'm diversity."
Phong slowly shook his head.
War.
Diplomacy.
Level 30 thresholds.
And he had just now noticed alphabetical patterns.
The world remained absurd.
That night was quieter.
No lizardfolk surfaced.
The offering at the shore remained untouched.
The trolls had returned to the mountain after their ceremony.
Camp Stymphalian breathed steadily.
Under the lime tree, the fire burned low.
Dominic and the Js went to sleep early.
Janet double-checked supplies.
Rico lectured the puppy about discipline.
The kitten vanished into the shadows like it had more important matters to manage.
Phong stood by the shoreline for a while.
Then he turned back.
Alexandra sat near the ruin wall with her knees drawn slightly toward her chest, watching the lime tree sway.
He walked over.
Sat beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The air felt cool.
The lake stayed still.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yes."
Pause.
"Does staying here bother you?"
She shook her head.
"It makes sense."
Another pause.
He swallowed.
"There's something I wanted to ask."
She looked at him steadily.
"Has there… been anything between us?"
She did not dodge the question.
"Yes."
The answer was simple.
Honest.
His chest felt lighter and heavier at the same time.
"Do you want to explore it?"
He was not eloquent.
He never had been.
She studied his face for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
No fireworks.
No dramatic music.
Just clarity.
Later, after the others settled down, she followed him toward his tent.
He paused at the entrance.
Not from fear.
From intention.
Inside, the tent was modest.
Better insulated now.
Blankets folded neatly.
A small generator hummed softly in the background.
He looked at her.
"I don't want you to think I'm just…"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Just what?"
He gestured awkwardly.
"Trying to get laid."
She stared at him for half a second.
Then smiled.
Soft.
Amused.
"Phong."
He flushed slightly.
"I don't want it to be about that."
Her expression softened.
"That's very you."
He was not sure if that was praise.
But she took his hand.
Stepped closer.
They lay down fully clothed.
No urgency.
No hunger.
Just warmth.
Her head rested against his chest.
His arm wrapped carefully around her shoulders, as if he feared holding her too tightly.
Outside, the lime tree rustled.
The lake remained still.
The mountain stood quiet.
Inside the tent, their breathing fell into the same rhythm.
She tilted her head slightly.
"You're naïve."
He blinked.
"…Sorry."
She laughed softly.
"I didn't say it was bad."
She moved a little closer.
"Just stop overthinking everything."
He exhaled slowly.
For a year he had barricaded himself behind anger.
Then he spent months building walls out of soil and roots.
This felt different.
He was not trying to conquer anything.
Not optimizing.
Not chasing a quest.
He was choosing.
She was choosing.
And that mattered.
They did not rush.
They did not need to.
They simply held each other.
Outside, Camp Stymphalian stood between mountain and lake.
Inside the tent, for the first time in a long while, Phong was not thinking about war.
He was thinking about tomorrow.
And she was still there beside him.