“Nineteen,” Vincent said. “Outside of a monster surge. No one's counted the size of the swarms during a surge, but dozens of them.”

“Using environmental and numerical advantages,” Humphrey said, “trap weavers are responsible for more iron-rank adventurer deaths than any other monster in the Greenstone region. There is a standing advisory that they should be dealt with in groups, during daylight.”

“Very comprehensive, Mr Geller,” Vincent said.

“I’m not done, sir,” Humphrey said. “Instructor Trenslow has asked us to decide for ourselves which of us will deal with the trap weavers. I strongly recommend we choose no one. Fighting these creatures, especially now, is a danger I don’t feel to be appropriate. There is a strong likelihood of some of us dying too quickly for Instructor Trenslow to intervene.”

“I didn't ask for that, Mr Geller.”

“With respect, Instructor Trenslow,” Humphrey shot back, “you instructed us to decide for ourselves who will participate. This is my contribution to that discussion.”

Vincent looked at Humphrey, his expression unreadable.

“What about you, Mr Asano?” Vincent asked.

Jason gave Vincent a long, assessing look before amusement crossed his face.

“Probably best I don’t say anything either way,” he said.

Humphrey looked at Jason, about to speak, but stopped at a slight shake of the head from Jason. Confusion crossed Humphrey’s face, but he stayed silent.

The other candidates who had already passed the assessment joined Humphrey in declining, leaving Mobley and the young woman who, like Jason, was yet to pass or fail. They looked at each other and also declined. Humphrey turned to Vincent.

“There’s our group,” Humphrey told him. “We choose no one.”

“Very well,” Vincent said, his face betraying nothing. “then I guess you should all get back in the wagon.”

* * *

As promised, the town at which the group rested for the night had a large building for adventurers, with a common room, dining hall, and bedrooms enough for a dozen people. It was situated on the edge of a pond, with a covered terrace. They didn’t arrive until after dark, and most of the group were gathered in the common room.

Jason explored the sizeable kitchen, but the cupboards and cooler box had no food, only crockery and cutlery. Jason made a salad with ingredients from the market towns they had passed through. He left a stack of bowls and forks next to the big salad bowl, filling two and taking a fork for each.

He made his way through the common room, where the other candidates were discussing the day’s events. In the end, Jason had killed both monsters, aside from the trap weavers they had left alone. He had no interest in the circle of unwelcome looks, instead making his way out to the terrace. The night was lit by a bright pair of moons, shining high over the surrounding wetlands.