As Emil and Ozzy made their way to the dinghy every fisherman made a point of getting out of their way. Each was desperate to be anywhere but around the hunters save for one.

  “I hope you sorry excuses for hunters aren’t planning on getting any extra looting in.” Colber snarled at them, seeming to have been appraised of their plans.

  “What’s it to you Colber?” Emil asked, the steel in his voice every bit as sharp as his sword.

  “What’s it to me? What’s it to me he asks?” Colber raised the question to the wagon even though there was no one around but the hunters. “What it is to me, hunter, is that I paid you to guard my wagon. Not traipse off into the murk for an extra roq, and I’ll make sure you pay for your dereliction of duty!”

  “Are you threatening to report me to the guild?” Emil asked curtly, stepping right into Colbers personal space.

  “Absolutely, and you can make your hunt report as egregious as you’d like, it won’t matter when your license is revoked for endangering my whole crew. I’m not risking my cargo or my crew any more than I have to and you’re out here wanting to make a loot run the night after a raiding party attacks my wagon?” Colber shouted before moving to shove Emil out of his face, the big man didn’t even budge.

  “You could have died last night you know.” Emil said in a low voice. “In all of the chaos of that raid and our scramble to get out of that massacres scent radius, we might just have forgotten all about you.” Emil stabbed at him with an accusatory finger.

  “There’s all sorts of collateral damage out here in the swamp.” Emil practically whispered it into Colber’s ear and the plump man went redder and redder before stumbling off in a fit of rage.

  Nodding to Ozzy Emil continued forward as if nothing had happened. Leading him towards the dock without so much as a hint of remorse.

  For the second time since arriving in the great swamp Ozzy and Emil set off into on the green on their little dinghy. Though this time, neither of them had to row. Emil fed chunks of the hideous catfish meat they’d gotten from the root sucker into a small box on the back of little boat, turning what would otherwise a slow little rowboat into a silent speedster.

  It was a curious system, about every fifteen minutes or so they’d start slowing down and like it was the most normal thing in the world Emil would open the box and toss in a slimy chunk of fish. He’d explained that monster parts were all just mana rich organic material and that most magical circuits could use them in place of more expensive mana sources like mana crystals. Then continuing his lesson told Ozzy that if he ever did come across a mana crystal and decided to use it to power a magical dinghy motor he would beat him senseless.

  They’d decided to leave Frank on the wagon as a furry warning system, if there was any sort of trouble he would unsummon himself and Ozzy would feel the ability go on cooldown and they would rush back to the wagon. Getting back to the wagon would have been hard enough if it stayed still, but it drifted ever onward towards the city. Thankfully Emil had solved that problem long before Ozzy ever came along, he had a compass that always pointed towards its twin which up until last night had been held by Norman.

  Initially Ozzy had thought the compass was a cool device but little more than a bit of risk mitigation, they hadn’t made it five minutes out however before he realized it was probably the most valuable piece of kit Emil had. The last thing he wanted was to get lost out here. Truly there probably wasn’t a better place in this world to disappear into, and as they moved through the grasses and cypress trees Ozzy couldn’t help but stare longingly at where he thought the wagon laid.

  ***

  It wasn’t long before they ran into something waiting for them. A pack of murkrats nearly twenty strong came at them from one of the swamps many islets. Despite the initial shock and fear Ozzy felt coursing through him the Murkrats were slow swimmers. They could jump out into the swamp an impressive distance even by magical rat standards, they were still a good fifteen feet away from the dinghy however. On land he and Emil would have already been fighting for their lives, but here on the water? They were shooting rats in a barrel.

  As one by one more rats splashed into the swamp Ozzy summoned his revolver. The cold grips melded into his hand and he took aim. This wouldn’t even be a fight, this was target practice.

  Back on earth he’d been the cream of the crop when it came to shooting. He’d always been something of a fanatic when it came to firearms and he’d put in the hours to get seriously proficient with them. That was shooting paper and steel though, maybe running a few drills here and there but nothing serious.

  Shooting in combat was entirely different, things moved in ways that didn’t make sense, they dodged and fought back. It was antithesis to the casual Sunday plinking he’d come to know and love back home. Here he needed to be fast, loose, and ready for anything.

  So when the chance for a good ol fashioned training moment popped up he took it. Rather than using the weapons as intended he dropped it, holding it tightly at his side like a western action star. He’d used the pistol this way back when they’d fought the root sucker but it had been a mess. It was barely his third time ever attempting the maneuver and his accuracy and form suffered immensely under the circumstances. That wasn’t going to happen again.

  Moving smoothly and with purpose he memorized each movements he made as he tried to in a smooth action pull the trigger, slap the hammer, and let it fall without catching anything, unleashing a massive slug into the closest rat. One lousy back shot.

  He tskd.

  Repeating the same movements with all of the exactness he could muster he fired again. The rat screeched as a second slug tore its way through the creatures back. It was nearing the dinghy now, and Emil had unsheathed his blade and held it ready to skewer the monster. Ozzy only smiled, his second shot had been mere inches away from the first, he was right on the money.

  He dipped the barrel of the pistol ever so slightly downward and slapped the hammer, releasing a third slug this time straight into the roof of the muskrats skull. It was like shooting a recurve bow, his accuracy depended entirely on muscle memory, instincts, and his ability to stick to his system. In time, it would be like breathing.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The second murk rat died instantly, a bullet taking it through the eye. His next target got off by a whisker, his shot going just a few inches wide. No matter, he exhaled, adjusted his stance, and fired again. Kill shot, right into the dome.

  Back on earth he’d have never dreamed of doing something like this, it was crazy to him that these animals just kept coming. It was like they had no concept of self, and it didn’t matter that every rat in front of them had died because by the gods they were going to be the one that made it to the dinghy. Spoiler, none of them made it. Though what came next made Ozzy wish they’d been fighting on dry ground.

  Of course the whole reason they had gone out hunting was for loot, and naively Ozzy had expected that the looting circle Emil had would work on monsters floating in the water, it had after all worked on the root sucker which was in the water.

  In actuality there had been enough of the root sucker above the water for Emil to drape the circle on top of it, not quite so with the murk rats. While they were definitely big, they were only about as big as a large boar, each weighing in between 200 and four hundred pounds.

  In what had become a total manipulation and exploitation of Ozzy’s brawn, or lack thereof, Emil had neglected to teach him how to set up the loot circle. It had obviously been a calculated move to ensure that he would never end up in the position of corpse fetcher while hunting with Ozzy.

  “This is the kinda thing people get abandoned in the swamp for.” Ozzy grumbled, wading through chest high murk as he drug a massive rat along behind him.

  “What was that?” Came an infuriatingly pleased voice from up on the islet.

  “I’m gonna take the dinghy and leave you out here.” Ozzy shouted back.

  “I’m sure you’d love to, but we still got work to do. Mine much cleaner than yours of course.” He jabbed.

  “I hope one of these things is still alive and it eats you.” Ozzy shouted, spluttering as his following step found no purchase and he dipped momentarily under the surface.

  “You’ll know about it before I will.” Came the all too happy retort from Emil.

  “I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Ozzy said, this time quiet enough Emil didn’t hear.

  By the time he was finished dragging corpses onto the bank Emil had found himself a very comfortable tree to lean against. Over on the center of the islet was the circle, all prepped and ready to have giant rats dumped into it.

  “Just how long have you been sitting and relaxing there.” Ozzy asked through gritted teeth.

  “I just barely sat down after finishing. My back disagrees with me if I’m hunched over for too long. You get it right?” He dramatically stretched, making a point to squint as he stretched make believe knots out of his back.

  “Whatever man, you’re gonna help me pull them onto the circle though.” Ozzy said before trudging off, his boots squelching as he went.

  Together they made short work of the twenty rats, hauling them in batches of five into the circle. Slowly Ozzy felt his energy recharge as he watched the pile of loot grow from a pittance to something actually worth grabbing. Finally done he brought out the ol scanner, and one little light show later.

  *BEEP BEEP*

  Items identified:

  2 speed loaders of basic big iron bullets

  4 rat tooth shotgun shells

  3lbs of murk rat claws

  30 lbs of Monstrous rat meat

  5 monstrous rat pelts

  Murk rat skull

  “Man, this stuff really sucks.” In spite of what he knew were unfavorable odds the hope of an easy resolution to their problems had been keeping Ozzy’s spirits high. Now seeing the dismal pile he wasn’t convinced they shouldn’t just look for another root sucker.

  Emil chuckled. “Now this is normal, up until now the loot you’ve seen’s been better than the best I’ve seen working solo. I still can’t really believe you got a core from that little pack of rats the other day. I’ve been doing this for years and I can say with a certainty that you are the luckiest bastard I’ve ever met.” He paused for a moment thinking about what he’d just said. “Alright maybe just when it comes to loot, but my point stands. You’ve seen more wealth here in these last few days than I’ve seen all year.”

  “I was kind of wondering about that. It seemed liked everything just kind of lined up perfectly for me. I even got a power that boosts looting and finds me ammo for my guns.” He grabbed a shotgun shell and tossed it at Emil. “That’s what this is. It goes in the bigger of my two guns.”

  “Now that’s a power worth having.” Emil said, nodding appreciatively.

  “Speaking of powers.” Ozzy let the statement hang for a moment, gauging Emil’s reaction, when he didn’t react he continued. “Have you thought anymore about the shard of claws?”

  Sighing loudly Emil stood up, tossing the shotgun shell back to Ozzy. “I have.”

  “And?” Ozzy asked.

  “I’m still thinking about it. If we run into something and I need, it I’ll use it. Chances are that we’re just going to run into more rats though, anything big enough to push us around will have gone for all of those cultists we killed.”

  “First of all that is a horrible thing to say, if you jinx it and something big does come after us I’m letting it get you first. Second off, did you just call them cultists?”

  With a groan, Emil face palmed. “Yes, I’ll have to remind myself that you’ve got less sense than a fish willing to listen to Norman when it comes to magic.”

  “Hey that’s your fault not mine.” Ozzy pined, grabbing loot up in a bundle and tossing it into the dinghy.

  In response Emil crouched, scooped up a handful of mud and chucked it at Ozzy. The slimy missile landed with a wet slap, clinging to Ozzy’s already soaked jacket. Had Emil made his attack prior to Ozzy pulling all of the rats out of the swamp he might have been upset, but in his current state the muddy splotch was simply one of many.

  “As I was saying, you have no bearing on what’s normal here. The only thing unique about last night was the fact that there were so many of them, not that they attacked us. Whenever we come out on an expedition we run into at least one raiding party, if not more. That was our third spat with that group this trip alone.” Emil said.

  Together they pushed the dinghy off of the islet, setting back off into the bayou.

  “They aren’t just after the fish though. Every time you absorb a core you attach it to your soul. You’re attuning yourself to whatever concept governs your core, in the same vein you’re attaching yourself to a God. Each concept is governed by its nature made manifest into a God or prime concept. So when you go absorbing cores willy nilly you’re making decisions that will influence you for the rest of your life.” He said, glaring pointedly at Ozzy.

  “Point taken.” Ozzy said, his hands raised in surrender.

  “Granted I don’t know anything about a gun core and I barely know anything about rat cores. I’ll warn you anyways though, stay away from gods, they’re always fighting one another, and they’re always recruiting. The dregs we killed last night are the result of the promised rewards and blessing of a god, and not one of the good ones.” He leaned over the side of the dinghy and spat into the water. “I doubt you’ll get the chance anytime soon, but if a god ever gives you anything, guidance, a shard, a core, say thanks but no thanks and get the hell out of there.”

  “What if they’re offering you a blessing?” Ozzy asked trepidatiously, feeling like the world’s favorite idiot.

  “You run. A blessing’s as binding as it gets. Most people can get away with a gift or piece of advice from a god. Once you’re blessed though?” He whistled. “You’re leashed to em like a dog. It’s like making a contract. You get immediate power in return for a favor down the line. Or you have to play errand boy.” Emil said with a shake of his head.

  Running a hand through his hair Ozzy groaned out loud. Wishing that for once in this stupid world he could get a break.

  “What?” Emil asked.

  “You know how I got ammo for my gun after we looted the rats?” Ozzy asked.

  “Yeah, and? What about it?” Emil prompted, concern etching its way across his face.

  “It didn’t come from one of my shard or core abilities.” He paused, dread clinging to him like swamp mud. “It comes from a blessing.”