Eight gold richer after turning in the red cores, Hugh made his way back to the Silver Bell for dinner and spent the rest of the evening on mundane tasks, like enchanting three small sacks and his club with [Summon Personal Item] and stitching up his ‘adventuring clothes’. Monday, if all things went well, he would purchase some leather armour and a good pair of boots in preparation for the trip to Morgan town on Second-Monday.

Laying back on the bed, he sighed and manually wove [Breeze], spending a minute in concentrated effort before flinging it at the door and enjoying the cool wind of his labour.

“So many things to do,” he thought to himself, plotting for the assault on Moggalic’s lair. “I need to leapfrog up the hierarchy I’ve put in place, so that means taking out Daemon Wyrm and his enchanted items first. And in order to do that, I need to get allies and advance my level. And to do that, I need to grind. And to do that… I need patience.” Heaving a sigh at all the time and danger required to advance his level, he dimmed the light orb and settled back in the bed to sleep.

Sissy joined him sometime in the middle of the night and he sleepily moved over to make room for her. She was curled up against him when he woke.

“I think I missed you,” He muttered into her hair, inhaling the scent that was uniquely hers.

“Think?” She said, rising and stretching. “I was only gone a day.”

“I got used to waking up next to you,” he said, crawling out of the bed after her and popping a [Clean] on everything in the room.

She flashed him a small smile as she changed her pants under her blouse and began pulling on dark leather armour. “I assume you’re going back to Golden meadow today?”

“Gotta grind if I want the XP,” he answered, tugging on his clothes. “Did you have something you needed to do?”

“Nope. Took care of it all yesterday.” She said, tilting her head to a pile of gear by the door.

Another backpack sat next to his, along with a small bow, and quiver, and two short swords. Gear that he had left her with when he abandoned her character.

“No bedroll, I see,” Hugh commented.

“I’ll share yours,” She said. “I don’t take up much room.”

Hugh grunted at that. “As pocket sized as you are, I’m a bit risk adverse right now. A spare would be a good idea.”

“I’ll grab a blanket and an oiled tarp,” she said. “That’s the backup plan.”

He shrugged, unable to argue with the logic.

After breakfast they stopped in at the temple of Markaus for coffee and dawn services. Hannah the tailor was there, along with her two daughters, and Stans Deters, the merchant Hugh and Sissy would be escorting on Second-Monday.

“Hugh, I didn’t know you followed Markaus,” Stans said, greeting the pair as they walked in the the door.

“And I didn’t expect to see you here either,” Hugh replied. “You know I asked Markaus for an opportunity and then you offered me a job, right?”

Stans laughed, “I heard, but didn’t realise that you were the so-called blessed one.”

“Well, here’s some advice,” Hugh said, leaning in close. “Visit the temple of Oxphine and tell her that Hugh sent you.”

Stans leaned back. “I have an alter dedicated to her in my brewery,” he said.

“No,” Hugh insisted, going with his gut. “Visit a consecrated temple. Trust me.”

Stans gave a hesitant nod. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Hanna and her daughters were nervous with the new experience, but Hugh showed her and her daughters around, introducing them to the members that he had met just the day prior. Sissy followed a step behind him like a lost puppy. “Or perhaps,” he thought. “Like a bodyguard.”

The sermon Proctor Siraba delivered was particularly inspired that morning, speaking of how all you had to do was say ‘yes’ to the opportunities that Markaus presented every day. It reminded Hugh of a certain classic movie he had seen years ago.

It was shortly after dawn when they walked in the doors of the adventurer’s guild, the thick stone walls of the building insulating the interior from the growing heat outside.

The young woman with the orange beret he had seen on his first night in New Arcadia was posting something on the noticeboard when they entered. As she walked back to her post, Hugh noticed a long sash trailing behind her dress like a tail.

“Hey Siss…Savanah,” he half-whispered. “Do they have beast people here?”

“They’re very rare,” Sissy answered. “Wenne’s husband Seleven is tiger-kin. He’s the only one I’ve ever seen. There’s entire cities of them across the Skyclaw mountains, I’ve heard.”

Mental note, Hugh thought to himself. Stay on this side of the Skyclaw mountains. Not that he had anything personally against furries, but they always squicked him out a bit. The designers never got the features right and they fell into the uncanny valley of never looking quite human enough to parse. The furries claimed they were perfect though. Whatever. Their brains were probably wired differently and could see a subtle display of emotions that his couldn’t.

“What are we looking for?” Sissy asked, glancing at the noticeboard. “Anything in particular?”

“Low risk, high reward would be great,” Hugh joked, joining her. He frowned at a half-forgotten memory. “Anything that doesn’t involve getting eaten by a wolf would be a bonus.”

There were several perpetual notices posted, items that could only be found in the dungeon of Golden Meadow. Silver grass, Black-eyed Sybil, Bronze threadleaf... All useful for alchemy and impossible to grow in a garden unless you were an exceptionally talented druid. Some exotics like Corpse Bee honey and Blood Rose petals were also on the board along with Silver Wolf pelt. If he didn’t need all the experience the dungeon could provide he could collect a few extra coins by selling the pelts.

“Hey, I just had a thought,” Hugh said, nudging Sissy. “[Harvest All] works in the dungeon. That’s something from the game. Why does it work here?”

“Because they are bound by the Concord of Shadows,” Sissy said. “Dungeons are born bound to the agreement between Celeste and Krysyn, the goddess of dungeons. Every dungeon must obey the agreement, including any monsters created outside its boundaries.”

“So I can harvest Experience, Valuables, or All outside the dungeon?” He asked.

“Only with monsters,” she replied. “Everything else requires a skinning knife.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding his head. “That’s good to know.”

There was a new posting for a bounty on Cezar Tarus, a bandit that had been reported active along the road between New Arcadia and Morgan town. Hugh pointed at it.

“That’s a flag,” He said.

“Flag?” Sissy asked.

“A flag is an event that signifies that something will occur later in the story,” Hugh explained. “If this was a story from my world instead of my new life, I’d totally expect Cezar to attack us on the way to Morgan town.”

“So do you think it will happen?” She asked.

“Oh yeah,” he responded. “Most definitely. It’s a huge flag. He probably has a large bounty on his head too. Let’s get more information.”

The young woman with the orange beret greeted the pair when they approached her desk. “Hi, I’m Claudia. How can I help you today?”

“I’m Hugh Johnson,” Hugh replied, fishing his badge out from around his neck where it hung by a leather cord. “And this is Savannah Hornblower. We’d like to register for the dungeon today and ask about the bounty on Cezar Tarus.”

“Sure!” Claudia said, giving them a professional smile. “I’ll register you now,” she said pulling a thick book from under her desk and scribbling in it. “Cezar is a bandit that was reported in the area recently by a merchant yesterday. He’s originally from Houmas, and has been known to take hostages for ransom or to sell them into slavery. The bounty is 50 gold for Cezar and 1 gold for each of his gang.”

“How many bandits?” Sissy asked.

“Twenty were reported, when the merchant came in last night,” Claudia said. “The governor is sending troops to investigate, but we’ve posted the notice as a public service announcement.”

Hugh snorted. “Another flag,” he muttered under his breath. “We’ll meet the governor soon enough, watch.”

“Okay, thanks!” Sissy smiled.

“So do we party up?” Hugh asked once they reached the golden grassland, summoning his club from where he left it at the Silver Bell.

“What do you mean?” She asked. “Neat trick with the club, by the way.”

“This old trick?” He grinned, twirling the club around. “It’s useful for keeping things out of sight until you need them. So, party? Like we join together and share experience? Somehow?”

“Whoever harvests the monsters gets the experience,” Sissy replied.

“Holdup,” Hugh said, dropping the club and grabbing her shoulders. “You could powerlevel me? That’s an option?”

“What’s powerlevel?” She squeaked, stiffening under his grasp.

“That’s where you take a weaker person out, kill stuff, and they get the experience.” He said, eyes wide.

“Well, yeah. That’s how the Guard does it. The weaker person needs to make the killing blow to get all the experience, but even harvesting corpses killed by others gives some.”

“Holy. Shitsnacks,” Hugh sighed, closing his eyes. “I’ve been on the verge of a breakdown because of all the experience an Arcanist needs to advance. Would you please help me?”

“Hugh,” Sissy said, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s what I’m here for. We’re going to stop Moggalic and the others.”

Hugh gazed into her eyes and genuinely smiled for what felt like the first time in forever. It was like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe again. Moving in slowly, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Let’s do this,” he said, tightening his pack and turning towards the dungeon boundary.

“I’ll get us something to play with,” she said, darting into the tall grass.

Hugh cast [Arcane Shroud], which gave him an armour bonus for the next hour. It also had the additional benefit of protecting against magical attacks, unlike [Mage Shield].

She returned several minutes later with two wolves in tow, both bleeding from nasty slashes along their side. Hugh cast [Air Slash] at one, slicing deeply into its hide and sending it to the dirt. The other hesitated once it spotted him and he stepped up with his club, connecting with its ribs as it dodged. Snarling, it whirled on him only to be met with a thrust to the head followed by another smash from the club. He harvested the corpses while Sissy ran off to grab more.

Fifteen minutes later she came back with four Axe Beaks, a monster resembling a cross between an Emu and a hatchet. One was bleeding profusely from its side where she had stabbed it.

“The dungeon is scaling up,” she shouted, kiting the monsters around him. “We’re too close together.”

Hugh nodded and cast [Arc Bolt] as she passed by, dragging the monsters behind her in a train. Electricity gathered in his palm, a crackling ball of energy that he directed towards two of the beasts running side by side. Lightning enveloped one of the creatures, causing it to shriek in pain and drop before the spell exploded in a static shockwave causing the one next to it to stumble swerve away.

Grabbing the weave in his hand, he released [Ice Spike] and a stalagmite of ice erupted from the ground, impaling the other monster. Red motes fluttered around the corpses, indicating they were dead.

He turned his attention back to Sissy who was facing off against the animal she had wounded earlier and another who was flanking her. He gathered [Arcane bolt] in his fingers, waiting for an opportunity. Sissy melted into the ground and a shadow raced under the wounded creature then erupted in a flurry of black hair and dark blades behind it. Shrieking in surprise, it tumbled to the ground.

The other Axe Beak slashed at her, causing her to dodge with an unnatural grace. Hugh took advantage of the opening and released his spell. An arrow shaped bolt of force streaked from his fingers narrowly missing the monster. Sissy whirled around, slamming one blade into the bony beak of the beast and thrusting the other deep into its ribs. It slashed at her with its feet, five inch claws missing her by a hairsbreadth. Dancing back she drew it to the side, giving Hugh another opening. He twisted [Air Slash] in his fingers and released it with a swift motion of his hand. The sharp blade of magically reinforced air sliced deep into the long neck of the monster, nearly decapitating it. Its head fell sideways in a spray of blood, the body following a moment later.

Sissy glanced around the area while making her way to Hugh’s side, breathing heavy.

“Good work!” She gushed. “I was worried all day yesterday for nothing.”

Hugh grinned. “I punch above my weight, but take longer to advance. No one wants to grind out levels forever, that’s why an Arcanist sucks so bad.”

They made their way back to the demarcation between the dungeon and the world outside its domain. It would reset in a half hour instead of tossing ever more challenging encounters at them.

The morning passed with them advancing into the grassland and retreating after a couple of encounters. Hugh had remembered to ask Annik for packed lunches before they left, so they took a break when the sun had passed its zenith. Weaving a [Breeze] to keep them cool in the stifling summer heat, they ate meat and cheese sandwiches, washing them down with warm water from their flasks.

“Why didn’t you do that with [Mending]?,” Sissy asked after he had manually cast the cooling cantrip.

“Because it’s not in my slotted spells,” he answered. “If I mess it up, I could end up with shredded clothing.”

She shook her head and pointed at the amateur sewing he had done the night before. “Not like it’ll make a difference.”

“Hey,” he replied with mock indignation. “I think I did a decent job for someone without any sewing skills.”

He kicked back in the green grass beside the road, watching clouds lazily crawl across the sky. The heat and drone of insects hidden in the grass lulled him to a state of near sleep.

“Let’s get back to it,” Sissy said, poking him in the ribs. “Daylight’s burning.”

Groaning, Hugh rose and stretched muscles unused to such exertion, then followed her back into the yellow stalks.

“Behind you!” Hugh yelled as a fourth cockatrice appeared from the grass. As the day drew to a close after several more successful encounters, they had mistimed the reset and the hungry dungeon caught them.

Sissy whirled and dodged to the side, her black hair flaring around her head as she narrowly avoided the attack. Hugh cast [Boreal Strike], covering his club with a rainbow aura and struck at the beast before him, smashing it in the head. It hissed as hoarfrost spread from the wound. He was low on mana and his cantrips were on cool down, so he stepped in to finish off the slowed creature. A targeted swing impacted the monster in the side, sending it flying into the grass.

“Retreat to the border!” Sissy yelled at him, fending off the two monsters in front of her.

Another cockatrice came in from the side and Hugh dodged, only to have the claws rip into the fabric of his trousers and snag. Thrown off balance, he fell to the dirt and felt the beak of the creature pierce his thigh. Numbness spread from the wound, the venom burning like acid as his leg stiffened and refused to move.

“I’m stung!” He yelped, wrapping his hands around the neck of the creature and grappling with it. It thrashed against him, claws shredding his trousers as he held it with one hand and grabbed at the weave with the other.

Sissy flowed around one of the beasts, her short sword carving deep into its leg, crippling it. Skipping back she lured the other away from its injured companion. It flapped towards her, yellow eyes mad with fury. Opening her arms wide, she allowed it to attack, spinning around at the last second to bring her blades across its neck. It tumbled to the ground in a fog of red motes.

Weaving mana between his fingers, Hugh formed an [Air Slash] and released it at point blank range, bisecting the struggling cockatrice. Rolling over, he took aim at the remaining monster harassing Sissy and let fly a [Arcane Bolt], grazing the beast. Sissy flitted in during that moment of distraction, burying both blades in the creature, ending it.

Hugh struggled to rise but the venom from the cockatrice had paralysed his leg, rendering it hard as stone. He shrugged off his backpack and began rummaging through it for the spider balm and bandages.

“Let me help,” Sissy said, squatting beside him and pulling a small dagger from somewhere. She sliced open his trousers, revealing a deep puncture wound oozing blood. Grabbing the spider balm from him, she smeared a fingerfull in the wound, causing the blood to thicken and clot almost instantly.

“I’m going to turn to stone, aren’t I?” Hugh whispered, the reality of his situation sinking in. His leg was locked in place, hard as a rock. He could feel the poison moving like liquid fire into his pelvis, locking his hips into place.

Sissy snorted. “Can you feel this?” She said, slapping his leg.

“Argh! Yeah. What’s up with that?” He groaned.

“The venom locks up your muscles, making them hard as stone for a few hours. I think you’ll be alright.” She said, furrowing her brow. “The venom shouldn’t travel much further.”

“What happens if it does?” He said, laying back as she applied the balm to the other gashes on his legs and torso.

“You’ll suffocate if it paralyses your lungs,” she said, lips drawn in a tight line. “You’re pretty lucky though. Four inches higher and something else would have been hit.”

“I swear to the gods that’s not a normal reaction to excruciating pain,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Harvest the valuables” she said, dragging a corpse over to him. “Cockatrice venom is used for making certain expensive balms that are prized by old men.”

Hugh touched each corpse she dragged over, harvesting it, absorbing the red motes and reducing each monster to just the bits valuable for trade.

Summoning one of the sacks from his room at the Silver Bell, he stuffed it with items from his backpack until he judged it weighed five pounds, then dismissed it back to the room. Repeating the process with the two other sacks, he reduced the weight of his backpack by half.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said when everything was done, rolling over and starting an army crawl towards the boundary. “The dungeon will pop another encounter quicker now that I’m injured.”

“I know,” she said, stepping in front of him. “Give me your arms. I’ll drag you out.”

Hugh rolled over on his back and lifted his arms, not arguing.

“Ulno’s balls, you’re fscking heavy,” she panted a few minutes later, dragging his dead weight through the tall grass. “How much …shit… do you have in that backpack?”

“Half of what I own,” he said apologetically. “Except my club. I can summon that later.”

Sissy stumbled onwards, bent nearly double under his weight. They were nearly to the edge of the dungeon when the sound of swishing grass reached their ears.

Hugh bit his lip, icy fear spasming through guts that burned with the paralytic poison. “Something’s behind us,” he whispered in.

Grunting, she staggered onwards, bursting through the edge of the domain less than a minute later. Dragging him another dozen yards, she dropped him and whirled around pulling her blades with trembling arms.

Five pair of hateful yellow eyes glared at them from the amber stalks, then vanished back into the dungeon’s territory.

The paralysis had crept up to his navel, leaving his lower half in a state of rigour mortis. Hugh groaned in agony, clenching his fists as his guts spasmed.

“We’re so damn lucky,” Sissy whispered, dropping beside him on shaking limbs. “I’ve seen them come out farther than this.”

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