“Look, just think of it as a dungeon.” The waggon master implored.

The man had no luck, however, as what’s his name just stared at him; a look of expectation in his eyes.

“Okay…look…in this world, there are spiritual things, ghosts, animals and people that have transcended or awakened, things that defy classification. And whenever these spiritual entities grow to a certain level of power, they somehow turn inside out. When they do this, they create a sort of…safe place for themselves, a memory given form. It could be their homes, a hunting ground…something of that nature. This wouldn’t be so bad, but when they do this, the ‘realm’ that they create ‘overlaps’ the land that it’s created on.”

“By this, I mean that the records of realms that have collapsed all noted that what you get after the collapse isn’t a huge hole in the ground, but the land that was there before the realm formed. And it’s not a time stop situation either, apparently, there is growth during the overlap. Some rich guy’s house got taken over by a realm once, and what they found after they destroyed the creature, or the ‘heart of the realm’ as the locals call it, was that his lawn or garden, or whatever, was completely overgrown. So I don’t know if it’s shunted into some alternate reality, or if somehow the land and the realm occupy the same space at the same time, or some other weird magical thing’s going on, but that’s what happens.

This was all old information that anyone could have read about in the library or gotten from one of the more adventurous arrivals, the only person paying attention as the waggon master talked was the old guy from troop dum-dum, with everyone else just zoning-out. Including the old guy’s eight companions, the very people that should have been paying attention the most.

“The main problem from these realms comes from social creatures. With the effects of their realm seeking to make them comfortable, it tries to recreate others of its kind. It relies on the creator’s memory, and no one’s memory is perfect, so each creation is a little bit different, a little bit warped. But even if the creatures that are created are viable, well…then you get a lot of inbreeding, which is…another way of warping them. And even with the solitary creatures, you’ll find plenty of life from outside the realm willing to move in and take up residence and because of a whole slew of factors, they too can end up warped.”

Goodie joined the rest of the crowd in their mental vacation; the thieves meeting had reached a bit of a lull as they finished reporting whatever information that they had discovered and he could think of nothing else to do but zone-out. Something he found difficult to achieve with the suns doing its best to turn his crispy bacon. He at least had his shadow stuff to form a bit of a barrier at least, he couldn’t imagine how the others managed.

“We do have some realms near the new settlement, but most of them are minor ones. The largest one there is benign and was actually created by a tree, surprisingly enough. The realm, creating a duplicate of the land it replaced. Somewhat redundant, I know, but it is what it is. We’ve been using it as a farm due to the time effect.”

The man seemed to sense the question before it was asked.

“Oh…uh…there’s a phenomenon where the time within a realm and the time outside of it aren’t completely in sync. No, no time travel stuff. But sometimes the time in a realm is faster than on the outside, sometimes it’s slower. Not much of a problem, except for when you have a populated realm that’s faster on the inside than the outside. After a breeding season, when the population grows larger than what the realm can support, the creatures obviously go in search of food. And thus, we get a flood of abominations popping out. And at random times to boot, due to syncing problem.”

Just as Goodie was about to create his own ‘sync problem’ by mentally blanking out this whole waste of time, he was brought back to full attention as felt a notification appear.

[(MINOR) HEAT RESISTANCE] DISCOVERED

[(MINOR) HEAT RESISTANCE] LV.1 LEARNED

“Oh gods, someone kill me, please?”, he asked. A sentiment shared by some in the crowd as the conversation was further prolonged.

“What creature made the Burrows” one of the girls from the idiot brigade asked.

“Rabbits.”

You did not need to see them to know how they were going to react; people could already imagine the chorus of laughter that would come from the morons. Thankfully, the waggon master put a stop to that.

“Do not fucking laugh! More people have died in the Burrows than all the other realms combined. So shut it!” he yelled.

During the third month after his arrival, a Ukrainian woman by the name of Katerina and her team ventured into the Burrows and never returned. He was not particularly friendly with her or anything, but she was one of the few people who would actually talk to him and answer his questions. Because of that little bit of civility and her subsequent loss, he always had a bit of a sore spot for whenever that place was mentioned.

He sincerely hoped that the idiot brigade would do the world…both worlds…and the gene pool a favour by going dungeon-diving when they passed by the place and get lost in the process. Harsh, but if you’re going to be an idiot, at least have the decency to not burden others with your stupidity.

He was not given time to dwell on the matter, however, as someone took to the floor of the thieves’ government. A woman, a tall ginger from what he could tell; translating Her majesty’s sensory information could be such a headache; not quite snake, not quite human, with a bit of something else entirely added in the mix, to say nothing of the physical feelings she was sending his way. It was disgusting enough to step in something, imagine having to slither your entire body through it.

The woman began talking, her words seemingly significant, though for all that Goodie could decipher, she may have well been preaching about the benefits of an all-vegan diet.

If there was one thing to be thankful for being transferred to another world, it was leaving all that bullshit behind, he thought

The only reason he was paying attention to what she said at all, being due to how often she was mentioning his name.

Meanwhile, the waggon master in front of him raised his voice, his tone indicating that what he said was important, or at least the man believed it to be. What others would find important, however, was that he was finally moving on with the briefing.

“It’ll be around the fourth month that we’ll get near the swampland territories. We will not be going into them as they’re a major source for giant, disease-carrying bugs and a number of other monstrosities like the Gator-dogs. The Gator-dog being a one-point-eight-metres long, one point two-meter-high, dog-like gator creature that is not only fast, but also possesses an incredibly strong bite that can easily sever a limb if they get hold of you. And unlike games, these creatures aren’t balanced, their hide is thick and tough and anything less than a magical weapon isn’t going to do shit to them; if you want to prepare for them, however, think about buying a mace or hammer to break their bones.”

Goodie had heard all this before, so he turned his attention back to what he was getting through his link.

The woman in front of the thieves was still talking, but she was constantly being interrupted by Mr. Mayor’s thug, the thieves’ conversation quickly descending into a full-blown argument. Goodie was getting a migraine from switching his focus between here and there.

“They do not usually stray from the swamp…” he heard the waggon master continue. “…but if we do encounter them, do not approach them. They’re extremely territorial and will not stop hunting you if you invade their land. We will have kill squads organised to take care of any threats like this, so leave it to them,” he cautioned before continuing. “Also, if you get it in hour heads to go out to hunt these things yourselves, do not bring them back to us, we kill them and then we will kill you,” looking straight at the group of idiots as he said it. “That being said, if you would like to sign up for one of the waggon’s defence squads. Please come see me afterwards, we would really appreciate it.”

Goodie missed that last part as the argument amongst the thieves was heating up.

Mr. Mayor’s thug…Mr. Thug, Goodie decided to call him… began ranting and raving at the woman whom Goodie assumed was either another leader or Mr. Thugs second in command, his tone and body language increasing in aggression with every passing moment. He had no doubt in his mind that Mr. Thug was seconds away from drawing his weapon with the intent of killing her.

His prediction coming true as he saw the man do just that.

He unsheathed and swung his sword with a speed that even Her Majesty found difficult to follow. The woman managed to dodge the attack, but not entirely unscathed. Goodie…or Her Majesty, rather, could not see where the woman had been cut from where the shadow demon lay hidden; only sensing the scent of blood entering the air.

The Thug lunged at her, the woman again diving to the side; she turned, finally managing to draw her weapon, an extremely small sword or large dagger, Goodie could not tell; she prepared to counter-attack only to see Mr. Thug dive face-first into the floor as Her Majesty’s bite finally kicked in.

That’s what Goodie hated most about that effect, despite its usefulness of being able to make anyone instantly drunk, you never knew exactly how their bodies would react. Aside from those with exceptionally strong constitution, anyone bitten by her would eventually fall unconscious. Eventually being the problem, as those few seconds where they remained active were where anything could happen. Most people would begin to slur, then become tired and uncoordinated, while some he had seen would become angry and aggressive, some would even begin vomiting.

He hated not knowing what was going to happen. Especially when he considered the possibility of someone’s class being focused on becoming drunk. What would happen if he encountered someone like that was anyone’s guess, but he doubted it would end well.

Meanwhile, while all this was happening on the other side of the village, the waggon master talked about the weather.

“Now, the weather, this is where we are going to have a real problem as there’s actually very little, we can do about it. Normally the train reaches New Home around the beginning of autumn, but with all the delays we’ve got going on, there’s a possibility that winter might set in before we can get there, ‘if’ we get delayed any further. If that does happen, we’re going to have to settle in and ride it out. The winters aren’t as harsh near these areas as they would be near the mountains, but they will stop us from being able to move.”

“But don’t worry.” The man continued. “If we get near this point, we’ll have plenty of game and lumber in the area to stock up our supplies, so this isn’t going to end up a Donner party situation.”

The man may have been trying to make a joke, but only two or three people from the crowd bothered to respond with a light chuckle. The waggon master went on.

“The real delay will come from the summer showers. With the possibility of the nobs’ little war, diverting us from the roads we’ve already laid down, the train runs the risk of getting stuck in the mud. It may not sound serious, but having to get even one waggon out of the mud without a high-level wizard about, is a whole mission, let alone over a hundred. Thankfully, we have a group of elementalists with us to help with such events.”

Elementalists! Goodie thought, he had yet to speak with Germain Gail, head of the construction crew…or whatever it is they did, his meeting with the man being interrupted by Mr. Mayor and his bullshit.

He pulled himself away from such thoughts to focus on his link.

The thieves, meanwhile, had gotten over their shock of what had happened and were looking to each other. Most likely wondering who had done whatever it is that was done to their leader.

The woman bent over to examine the thug, two fingers heading towards his neck in a move that looked to Goodie like she was about to check for a pulse. Surprising, as he did not think that they would have that level of knowledge.

Before she could touch him, however, she yanked her back as Her Majesty appeared upon the fallen man’s back; the shadow demon hissing at the woman.

The room did not go into a panic as Goodie had assumed, instead, the thieves within stood absolutely still and as quiet as the dead or at least more silent than who had begun snoring.

Her majesty dove back into wherever it was that [SHADOW RUN] took her. He had her hide in the corner of the room again to observe the thieves and their reaction.

He knew that messing around with these people would be a gamble, but he had already made a fool of the thug when he had knocked him out in Mr. Mayor’s office. He could only imagine that the argument with the woman was about Mr. Thug wanting some sort of revenge.

Goodie hoped that he had read the situation correctly. If the woman was not a dissenting voice, but a loyal minion arguing ‘for’ revenge and Mr. Thug, in fact, being the level-headed leader cautioning against any rash actions, he might have just screwed himself.

Goodie was pulled away from his link with Her Majesty, his attention brought to his immediate surroundings as someone approached him. Distracted by the events elsewhere, he had completely missed the end of the briefing. With the meeting wrapped up, the people around him heading began to leave. Goodie sensed, however, that he would still be here for a while longer as the man heading towards him was the waggon master himself.

His instincts urging him to run as the waggon master came closer, but he felt that urge whenever someone focused on him, a reward from a lifetime of being bullied.

“Excuse me, Goodie is it?” the man asked him

Goodie just nodded, not wanting to encourage further conversation by replying.

“I’ve been told that you rely on shadow summoning, I was wondering if you would be open to joining the waggon train’s defence squads? For scouting purposes only, of course, not to fight.”

Goodie was about to respond when he was distracted by two things. First being what he saw in the corner of his eye; off in the distance, he saw captain brain-dead and his band of half-wits eyeing him, their body language suggesting that they were once again going to treat him like an idiot and ask him to join them. He had expected it, just not so soon.

The second feeling was something that was completely unexpected. More notices from the system. The feeling of them being more than recognisable, they felt like the ones he got whenever he killed rats. Only bigger.

He opened his [MENU]

[YOU HAVE ASSISTED IN SLAYING (GOEWEL OF THE CARRIERS WHO WERE BORN IN THE VILLAGE ON THE HILL THAT PRODUCES CORN)]

[XP] +275

[YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL] 1