I took a chance and asked my Hunters about moonshine production, and Rigger revealed he knew how to set up a basic still. The idea I had floated generated a greater amount of interest among them than I had thought it would.

  The idea of cheap whiskey had great appeal to them. Harrington was the only one who scoffed at the idea that he never drank the gut-rot brands. The others were more than willing to down the stuff.

  I had upset them a bit by pointing out that this would not happen immediately, as we did not have the necessary space to set up a still. In return, they pointed out that the mausoleum to the west was abandoned and unused. I conceded this to them but told them that there would be no still set up until we achieve the next level for New Midian. I had a plan in place to benefit them all if this happened. However, I would still be added in the future.

  They grumble a little but accept my decision. To reinforce my seriousness, I had Blackstone investigate the requirements to build the still and begin budgeting accordingly.

  May was upon us.

  There were some reports of troubles in some parts of China, with some more extreme anti-Western groups trying to purge the local society of their influence. The Emperor's forces quickly crush them, and things return to a more peaceful time again.

  The Boer War had been quiet for the last few months, but now it was back in the news with a new British offensive. The bridge had learned from the battles at the start of the year and had adopted several new tactics which were proven very effective. First of all, they were using far more machine guns than they had to prevent Boer cavalry raids against the columns. Light artillery pieces were used to help suppress these attacks. To help with this, several small balloons have been created and used as observation posts, carried along the column and connected to wagons on the ground. This gave the British commanders greater warning when enemy forces were near.

  The British came out on top in three major battles that month, pushing back the Boer forces on all fronts to the point that the Orange Free State collapsed as the British annexed it. The war was not over, but there was a clear shift in the British favour.

  At the end of the month, I got my next group of visitors.

  Three men were tying up the horses outside the gates. I expected all visits to end as the month did, with no one coming, but I was wrong.

  They were all Caucasian and appeared to be working-class miners. I thought pickaxes and shovels strapped to their horses, and the one donkey they had brought: treasure hunters or grave robbers. I was leaning towards treasure hunters, or they were just lost.

  The more I watch them, the more I doubt that they were lost. I watched them crossing into the graveyard from the courtyard.

  [Alert! Intruders are not recognised as Challengers.]

  I was unsurprised by this as they all carried firearms openly on their hips. They had left their horses at the gate but brought the donkey with them. It was heavily loaded with packs and tools.

  It was early in the morning, and they were already quite bright. The sky was clear, and the sun shone without obstruction.

  "Rigger, you can stay out of this one if you want."

  I sensed his gratitude. Even with his heavy coat and hat on, going out into the sunlight at any time now was painful. The other Hunters were out and moving, and I informed them of what they were facing.

  I did not organise the Hunters this time. I wanted to see what they would do on their own, independent of my instruction.

  Rodriguez found the men first, with Blackstone close behind. They took the southern route through the graveyard and were still well within the first hunting ground I had created.

  He began stalking them.

  I followed the men as they moved, listening to their conversation in the background. They were down-on-their-luck miners who were investigating the rumours about the graveyard and its hidden treasure. They decided that if there weren't any, they would do a spot of grave robbing to see if that would help turn their financial situation around. The number of high-quality tombs in the area led them to believe that the occupants might have been buried with some valuables.

  I was already planning where they would get buried when Rodriguez struck.

  They came in from behind them, moving quickly. He was so low I could have sworn he was actually running on all fours at one point. He had his Tomahawk out, ready for use. I was closing the distance between them.

  The donkey was the most aware of all of them and quickly got spooked.

  It's agitation turned one of the men to look back at it, and he caught sight of Rodriguez coming in. He called out to the others in panic, but had no more role to play as Rodriguez threw his Tomahawk, impacting the man in the head with its blade. He collapsed dead to the ground.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  The donkey bolted now free of that man's grip on its reins.

  It charged between the two men as they were trying to draw their guns, giving Rodriguez valuable seconds to close the distance. He was aiming towards one of the men. He was pulling his gun when Rodriguez jumped on him. The weight behind Rodriguez's impact took him to the ground, and my Hunter tore his throat out with his teeth.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  The third man got his gun out and fired, catching Rodriguez in the shoulder, knocking him down. Rodriguez snarled out loudly in pain, a very inhuman, almost animalistic sound. The final man was shaking badly but was bearing down on my Hunter once again with his gun.

  He did not get a second shot off as his head was introduced to Blackstone's hammer. His skull was shattered like a ripe melon, scattering brain and blood across the area.

  [A Hunter has made a Kill.]

  His body collapsed to the floor as Rodriguez turned to face my other Hunter as he stood. His face was covered in blood, and there was a wild look in his eye. The shoulders were tense, and I can still see the bloodlust driving him. Blackstone stood his ground and looked him up and down. The threat of violence between them was real.

  I summoned my avatar between them.

  "Let's clean this up, shall we?"

  My voice was like ice water on a fire, and both took a step back from violence very quickly.

  "Now, has anyone seen which way the donkey went?"

  June came, and that meant summer.

  Life surrounded New Median, and there was a fair amount in the graveyard, too. Wildlife wandered through the forest, birds flew overhead, and insects buzzed everywhere.

  My flower beds were in full bloom, and I felt all was right in the world.

  Many of my Hunters were out stalking the forest at night, looking for game, more pursuing their own agendas. Many times, they returned with trophies from their kills. Rigger was one of the most active during these excursions.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Different birds, rabbits and occasionally deer were brought back from their hunting trips. I allowed them these excursions, as they kept them happy and their skills sharp. But they all knew not to interfere with anyone out in the world and to avoid all contact with them.

  Harrington pestered me for part of the month to buy several books for him, but unfortunately, our financial resources were somewhat limited at the moment, so I had to turn him down. At one point, he hinted that we might use my gold or silver to pay for more resources, to which I replied that we could easily sell a few of his books to cover the cost of new ones. He fell silent after that.

  Out in the world, the British offensive against the Boers was progressing: Pretoria had fallen, and the Boers were being forced to retreat on all fronts. I remembered that Germany had supported them during my timeline. Here, it appears that the lack of German support was having a profound effect, as they were suffering from shortages of weapons and ammunition.

  The German Reichstag voted on the second series of German naval laws, which oversaw funding for the Imperial German Navy. They were bound by treaty with Britain about the size of their fleet, and this new law reflected that. The Pacific squadrons received reinforcements in the form of several new cruisers. Several older ships were to be decommissioned and replaced with new models, while nearly two dozen others would undergo refurbishment and modernisation.

  The British press reported it as a sound and logical law that worked within the treaty established between the two powers and represented a serious improvement in German naval power without enlarging the fleet. The British also reported that they were undergoing refurbishment and decommissioning many ships, replacing older models with newer ones.

  The month ended with a massive fire at the Hoboken Docks in New Jersey that claimed several hundred lives and caused the destruction of several ships. The fire was blamed on poor working conditions, and the more socialist elements of the Republican Party used it as a platform for greater owner responsibility for their workers' safety.

  The Democrats, of course, denied such calls.

  The days ticked past, and July arrived.

  "Who might you be then?"

  I asked myself as I spotted the rider through the trees. It was late in the day, and the sun was beginning its descent toward the mountains in the west. I shifted down to the gates to get a better look at who had just arrived.

  I recognised who it was and was most surprised by their return.

  Alexander Rochester. The fifth person to have survived the trial of New Median.

  What was he now, 20 or 21 years old? Recently married, according to the reports I had read in the paper. Herbert indicated that he had been away for a few years, attending college on the East Coast.

  But here he was again approaching my gates.

  Had he come back to try again?

  There was nothing in the rule that said a challenger could come back and try again after winning. As far as I'm aware, they could come back as many times as they wanted, and as long as it was victorious, they would gain more. Of course, death would be the result of a failed attempt.

  His approach was slow and deliberate as he guided his horse from the saddle. He approached the gates closely and then dismounted, walking the short distance to stand just on the edge of the threshold.

  He was a bit different from the last time I saw him. A bit taller and broader, he has also filled out a bit more. His expression was unreadable to me. I caught flashes of concern and the echo of painful memories, but overall, I did not know what he was thinking.

  He stood there in the late afternoon sun, quietly looking into the graveyard. There's only been a gentle breeze all day, but right now it is still. Everything around us was peaceful, yet I sensed the tension from him.

  "I know you're watching me." He said, suddenly breaking the silence. "I felt your attention since I left the tree line."

  He had! Well, that was something new.

  "I had to come back. I still dream of this place. It is… It is like it's calling to me." He continued speaking. "My father says he has the same dreams."

  They do? I am learning some new things today!

  "The dreams tell me to come back and try again. To repeat the journey and fight the monsters again. If I emerge victorious, I will gain yet more. They are in some ways more intense than the first ones that brought me here."

  I listened, saying or doing nothing.

  "After I got out, my father took me home. He eventually stopped yelling at me, and we talked. My mother, brothers, and sisters did not understand. He did. He confessed to me that he, too, had come here and survived."

  He fell silent, thinking for a few moments.

  "That made sense to me. He knew too much when I first spoke about my dreams. We talked about what we saw in there. It seemed he fought fewer monsters than I did. He was quite concerned about the increased numbers."

  He went silent again before returning to his story.

  "We talked about rallying the townsfolk and coming back and burning this place to the ground. We came close, but we stopped when we realised the cost. How many people had already died beyond those walls? How many more will die if we take a mob in? But then, how many will die if we do not in the long run?"

  Took out a canteen and drank from it.

  "He had been changed by surviving. I had been changed by surviving even more; it took a few days for us to realise how, but we did fully in the end. That's when we realised what this place is really about—testing people. If they survive, they gain. And if they do not well…"

  He trailed off and drank more from the canteen.

  "This was a conversation over many weeks that we had. It was at the end, when we decided not to interfere with this place, that he told me about his sister's final days and what had happened. He told me about you closing the gates. It was then that we realised that someone or something was running this place."

  He put the lid back on the canteen and placed it on his belt.

  "I thought about that for quite some time. More now that I've come back and realise that when my brothers are dreaming about this place. My father is doing his best to dissuade them from coming. He fears that his daughters will one day start dreaming as well. So I've made a decision and come here today. Whatever is running this place, I would like to speak with you. Come fourth if you can, it is time to speak."

  Nothing was stopping me from speaking to him. I thought about it for a few seconds and decided to humour him. I would have to be careful in this conversation and not reveal too much, as he did.

  Mentally, I collected myself and summoned my avatar.

  He wasn't shocked or horrified by my appearance; he just watched me passively. We stood there looking at each other for a few seconds before I decided to speak.

  "Alexander Rochester. You should be careful of what you call upon around here; we have a habit of answering."

  "You are the one who runs this place?" He asked in a tone not changing from the one-sided conversation he had just had.

  "I am."

  "Are we right then? Does this place exist to torture or to test?" He asked.

  "A bit of both, to be honest."

  He fell silent at my words and regarded me… no, he was evaluating me.

  "What will happen if my brothers and sisters come here?" He said, almost demanding.

  "You already know the answer to that question."

  He let out a deep breath that was more akin to a sigh. Yes, he knew, he knew far too well. He still carried the mental and physical scars.

  "If I ask, will you stop them from coming?" Now that was a question I didn't expect.

  "No. If they step through these gates of their own free will, I will take no action for or against them."

  He sagged slightly at my words as if he expected them. This was an odd conversation, but I felt strangely like we both needed to have it.

  "Will my children dream of this place? Will they be drawn here like I was?"

  "Yes."

  That seemed to take something more out of him, but he stayed on course.

  "My wife is pregnant with our first child. I fear for their future, and I have cursed our family more by what I did." He rubbed his eyes with his hands, and I could see that fear for what he had done now was being transferred to his unborn child.

  "Cursed? No."

  My words caused him to look at me sharply.

  "Those who are capable of facing the challenge within this place are always called to their dreams. What your child will inherit from you is the legacy of your victory, as you inherited yours from your father. When you achieved your victory here, you did something unexpected."

  "What do you mean?" He demanded.

  "As the firstborn son of the first person to succeed the trial here. Your victory caused a change in the world. It was subtle in some ways and not in others. You, Alexander Rochester, are more than any man in this world."

  He shifted uncomfortably at my words, and I knew that he understood some of what I was saying. I continued.

  "Starting with your father and now with you, you have established a bloodline. Your family is different from your children, who will be different from theirs. In time, they will probably revert to normal people, but if they keep coming back and challenging New Midian, the differences will be reinforced through victory."

  "New Midian? That is the name of this place?" He asked.

  "Yes."

  We fell silent again as he thought about my words. I can see him working through both the positives and the negatives of his family's current situation.

  "What changes did I bring?" He asked suddenly. "You said I made changes through my victory, what were they?"

  "You already know some of the changes. You are more than you were when you came. You know this better than I."

  He shifted uncomfortably in my words, but he knew I was speaking truthfully.

  "The other change you made was because the flow of magical energy in the world increased slightly."

  He snorted. "Magic?"

  His tone was dismissive and even a bit mocking.

  "Yes, Alexander Rochester. Magic is very real."

  That caused him to fall silent. He was a man of his time who believed in science over superstition. Being told that magic was real and was a force to be reckoned with, shaking him in some ways more than the truth bombs I'd already dropped on him.

  "What do I do then?" I heard a slight tone of desperation and despair in his voice now.

  "Train your brothers and sisters. Train your children if any ask for it. If they ask about their dreams, tell them the truth. If they do not want to pass these gates and face what's within, there will be no ill effects. As I told you, if they come of their own free will, only then will I pay attention to them."

  He looked at me for a long moment, and I could sense anger and hostility mixed with fear radiating from him. Could he attack me? Possibly, but I did not fear him.

  He stood there for a few long moments and then, with that nod, turned and walked back to his horse. He mounted it and turned it back to the path. He rode off and didn't look back.

  I wanted to ask more and learn more, but I didn't want to push him.

  He had already revealed a great deal to me, and there was a good chance I would see more of the Rochester family over the next few decades.

  I remembered the births recorded by the Crossway Chronicle. He had two brothers and two sisters, all younger than him. Now it seems he was also going to have his own child, with the possibility of more to come.

  Yes, I definitely suspected that I would see more of the Rochester family in the future.