After we finished eating lunch, I stood, let out a furious belch, then walked deeper into the forest to get my grind on.

  In the meantime, Cashius would have to fend for himself, with his grouchy ass.

  If something came crashing out of the forest to attack him, I’d hear it because of the alarms he rigged. Plus, with his high health bar, I doubted anything around here would seriously harm him.

  Also, I needed a moment to reflect on everything I’d been through in the last couple of days, particularly how the whole Vaelthar situation had played out.

  That damned elf had made me relive trauma I thought I had buried, like the incident with my dad's being killed. How it felt to hear the news the first time, the funeral, and all the shit that came with it. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I missed my moms and my sister.

  But to get back to my dad’s passing. Losing a parent at the tender age of seventeen hit different for a young man getting ready to go out into the world. Imagine having to deal with that right before prom and getting advice and sympathy from people all the time when all you wanted to do was forget about it.

  Shit like that would drive anybody insane. And then, when things couldn’t get any worse, your girlfriend ups and leaves you because, as she put it, you were way too depressing for her.

  All she wanted to do was party and look cute walking down the halls.

  But as they used to say in the 90s, it’s all good.

  Maybe this adventure would lead to me meeting someone nice who liked me and my moods. Someone who would be there when times were hard. I don’t know, it could happen, right?

  Strangely, another thing on my mind was doing chores around the house.

  For the last two years, with my dad gone, I had taken pride in keeping the house in the best shape I could. Even if it meant relying on YouTube tutorials to learn how to snake out a clogged drainage pipe or clean out the gutters. Hell, I even missed doing those stupid gig jobs and making deliveries.

  When I thought about it further, I was downright homesick. Missing Earth and everything about it, even the crummy parts.

  And you know what? Maybe whacking a few monsters on the head might make me feel better and focus on this impossible task. Get my mind off of all that shit. I don’t know. Gaining more XP wouldn’t hurt either.

  With a sigh, I flicked to the character screen and skimmed through my stats. Just a quick scan, mostly to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything major.

  My magic ability had ticked up thanks to the staff, but all my other stats were pretty much frozen. As hard as the battle had been, the enemies weren’t all that leveled up.

  Cashius said that the farther we walked from this area, the stronger the enemies would get. With a cautious tone, he reminded me not to stray too far, or I might end up lost and in over my head. Telling me that I had to be extra careful out alone, which was bullshit because he couldn’t help in a fight anyway.

  Shouting and calling me boneheaded was his specialty, not killing monsters anymore.

  Me being alone wasn’t the issue; him being alone was what bothered him.

  Underneath all the bravado was an old man who could not protect himself the way he once had. The creases in his face showed fear, too, making him look less brave than I remembered him being.

  It was a real shame the game had done that to him, making him a guide instead of the barbarian he had once been. Then it forced him to play again on a harder difficulty, without even being able to lift a finger.

  His only help was a kid suffering from depression.

  Shit, if I were him, I’d be scared too.

  But oh well. What I learned early in life was that fairness didn’t mean much. Live your life being careful all the time, and you could die from a simple infection. The best bet was to play along and hope for the best. God would handle the rest.

  Twelve minutes and three snapped twigs later, the forest’s mood shifted.

  It went from a laid-back afternoon vibe to the sense that something might crawl out of the shadows and bite the shit out of you, very quickly. The towering trees surrounding me, and the clouds of tiny insects buzzing only heightened it.

  With my free hand, I swatted a fat insect and smeared its blood on a tree. Harmless according to my HUD, but with this many of them around, you never could be too cautious.

  As I walked deeper into the trees, time slowed to a crawl, and before long, I was actually enjoying my time in the forest.

  No Cashius.

  No mission to think about.

  No stress.

  Just me, my sword, and nature.

  What more could you ask for?

  The only thing I needed now was to relax.

  Too bad the rustling leaves I heard nearby reminded me where I was and what was at stake.

  My ears pricked as the rustling stopped, and my senses lit up.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  I scanned the area, bending low and peering into the bushes, when another noise crackled deeper in the leaves. An erratic, irregular clatter that made me lift the sword and shift into a fighting stance.

  “Come on out,” I shouted. “You’ll help me get my mind off home.”

  I sniffed the air and caught a wet, musty scent, something like a dog that had rolled in swamp water.

  I tightened my grip on the sword’s handle and waited. Seconds passed. Nothing. My guard dipped as disappointment crept in.

  That was when it happened.

  A fast slap of movement against the moist ground.

  I turned and saw them.

  A whole cluster of small creatures, longer than they were tall, ferret-shaped with long-reaching tails. Each one was gray, about the size of a house cat, and feral to the bone.

  Seven of them appeared in a blur, claws out, and looking at me like I was the main course.

  I caught one with an awkward slice while backing into a tree. The little fucker took the hit, curled into a ball, then sprang at me again, snapping along with its brothers and sisters.

  Their teeth were tiny and pointy, like toothpicks carved from bone.

  One bit me.

  [-400]

  “Shit,” I spat. I had let these bastards herd me into the trees.

  I narrowed my eyes and pulled their info while swatting them away.

  Zbio – Level 14

  Killing the leader sounded straightforward, but every time I thought I had a read on it, another one bit me right on the ass.

  I swung, knocking one back, but the strike did not register.

  [Null]

  Great.

  The little motherfuckers were immune until I figured out how to deal damage.

  One launched straight at my crotch, claws swiping for the family jewels, while another clung to my leg, chewing through my furry pants and tearing into flesh.

  More health drained from the gauge in the corner of my vision.

  “Enough of this bullshit,” I muttered, cocked back my fist, and slammed one with a punch I was sure would kill it.

  Even with the Illicit Power Necklace

  If I wanted to survive, I needed to think fast.

  Each bite sent hot spikes of pain through my nerves, blooming like flowers in spring before gathering into pulsing red numerals.

  I checked my health.

  3,500 / 6,250

  A few more hits and I would drop below twenty-five hundred, more than half gone.

  I pulled a potion from my inventory, but one of the Zbios scratched my hand, knocking it free.

  The red-filled vial hit the forest floor, and watching it fall sent a wave of panic through me.

  To make things worse, they moved too erratically for me to track the leader.

  What I did catch was their pattern. They attacked in groups of three while the others stayed back. As soon as I dealt with one set, another trio rushed in like clockwork, each one trying to flay me alive.

  I slashed down with my sword, swiped with my free hand, and stomped on the one chewing my ankle. It did not matter. They would curl into balls, roll away, and a new batch would show up swinging, aiming for another impromptu vasectomy.

  “Fuck this shit, I’m out of here,” I shouted.

  But the second I turned to run, they warped in front of me in a computer-glitch kind of way, all flashes of light, flickering shapes, and sudden materialization.

  What now?

  How would I defeat these little furballs?

  Then it hit me.

  Maybe I could freeze them like I did those damned Razormaws

  They were beaten back as best I could manage while the others gathered for a fresh rush. I switched to the Gorton Staff, the icy metal clinging to my skin. The tendrils of frost racing up my arm, chilling me.

  With precision, I aimed the staff, and an arctic blast burst from the tip, so cold it frosted my arm hairs.

  Before me, the Zbios’

  Without warning, the four in the rear rushed at me, but it was too late. Ice fanned out, stopping them mid-sprint.

  With them frozen in place, I finally spotted the one with the striped tail. I shattered the little bastard, and the rest let out a godawful scream before crumbling to pieces in unison.

  Orbs and a few pieces of gold dropped to the forest floor, then rushed into me, flooding my body like running through a snowstorm naked.

  So, with the icy staff in hand, I walked around the forest, making sure not to venture too deep into the trees, and hunted Zbios. After I learned how to call them out, it was easy as hell.

  Before I knew it, I had gained another level as a quiet pulse shook my body. I looked at the lower half of my display and checked my stats:

  Level 22

  HP: 6,750

  MP: 1000

  Strength: 29 (+18)

  Vitality: 22

  Magic: 24

  Defense: 28 (+17)

  Perception: 27

  Speed: 25

  Wisdom: 23

  Knowledge: 26

  I thought. Already, I was up two levels. The boost to my base stats caused my arms to grow more defined. As for Speed

  Anyway, now it was time to return to Cashius and finally set up that camping kit I had been looking forward to using.

  Part of the reason was that the shopkeeper who sold it to me mentioned it came with a couple of perks. One, it would make me feel fully rested. Two, once the latch was locked, no monsters or enemies could enter from the outside.

  That alone convinced me to buy it.

  By the time I trudged back to camp, Cashius was sitting right where I left him, this time with a cigar in hand and a serious look on his face. Both sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and his red trench coat lay curled in a ball beside him.

  His arms were covered in huge scars, and when I glanced at his chest—which I could see because he had unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt—it took everything in me not to react.

  “What are you gawking at, boy?” he said, blowing out a cloud of white smoke. “Never seen scars before?”

  “Like that? Hell no.” I sat down beside him.

  “Well, they’re easy enough to explain,” he said, sticking out the arm closest to me and slowly rotating it.

  “When you’re a champion, the rules aren’t the same,” he said. “See those potions that replenish your health? They knit your flesh back together, but only if you drink them in time. Take too long, and something in the magic causes scars like these. Like when those Razormaws

  “So I wouldn’t have bled out?”

  “No. Being a champion has its perks; here you keep going, and if you’re lucky, you get more health from a potion or something—or you level up,” he blew out a cloud. “That’s what happens here.”

  “Interesting,” I muttered, lifting my sleeve to examine the spot where the dogs had pulled flesh from bone.

  Under intense inspection, I saw it.

  A tiny pinprick of discolored skin marked the spot where the injury had been. It was smaller than a bug bite.

  “Wow,” I said. “So I could be halfway dead, like if someone impaled me with a sword, and I’d still survive?”

  “The pain is the same, but yes. You will survive if you’re a champion.”

  “Well then, why does my HP dip when I don’t eat in time?”

  “That’s a different matter. If you don’t eat at all, you will die. I guess it’s a safeguard for when a champion is left wounded on the battlefield. If he doesn’t die right away, hunger will eventually take him out.”

  “Makes sense for game logic.”

  “Oh, and I see you leveled up to 22. On the 25th, there’s a surprise waiting for you. An introduction, so to speak.”

  I nodded slowly, my left brow twitching.

  He grunted and stood. “It’ll all become clear. Until then, let’s set up the camping kit you bought, and I’ll show you a couple of tricks that might come in handy later.”