Teleportation, Shin decided on the spot, was his least favorite form of travel. Walking was very nice, and even running could be pleasant in managed bursts. He quite enjoyed swimming, and the kobold was certain that if he was capable of flight, he’d be enamored of that as well. He’d never been flung via catapult, or perhaps by a very precise giant, but if he received reasonable assurances that his landing would be soft he’d be willing to give it a shot.

But having now experienced teleportation first hand, Shin could declare with confidence that he was not a fan. He didn’t understand any of the magic or mechanisms behind its function, but he did know how it made him feel: like every single piece of him had been pushed through a fine mesh sieve, scattered to the wind in a flurry of cacophonous madness, then smooshed back together in his desired location.

It was hard to tell exactly, but Shin was fairly certain that his body-bits had reformed before his mind-bits. Maybe a few of those mind-bits were still wafting around on the ephemeral breeze, somewhere. That would certainly explain the decapitated demon head and its helpful advice.

Shin was still in possession of his manners-bits, though, so he buckled down and made an attempt to do anything besides staring slack-jawed at the gore-dripping monstrosity that was still winking at him. “I, um, you…” Shin swallowed, his ears folded completely flat against his skull. “Head? You are one?”

Yep. There were definitely some mind-bits still tumbling through the ether.

If the horrific visage took offense at Shin’s sputterings, it had the good graces not to show it. “Oh, my bad! Let me introduce myself; I’m Regalus Vileblood, Tyrant-Lord of the Lands of Inchoate Horror.” The head reconsidered that, then amended its statement. “Well. I’m the head of Regalus Vileblood, Tyrant-Lord of the Lands of Inchoate Horror.”

Shin really had no idea what to do with this information. “Um, nice. I’m Shin.”

“Nice to meet you, Shin!” The mutilation that was Regalus chuckled, causing a fresh torrent of viscera to burst from its gaping neck-wound. “My first day out of the Lands of Inchoate Horror, and I’ve already made a new friend. Isn’t life fun?”

“Totally,” Shin agreed, perhaps a touch too quickly. “This is totally, totally fun.”

"So you're on your way to Magica City, hey Shin?" the viscera-strewn head inquired. "Bright Lights, Big City, Bigger Dreams?"

"It's...not like that. It's more of a necessity than a choice."

"Ah, got it. Business, not pleasure. Of course." Regalus's left row of eyes winked again. "I hope you do manage to make at least a little time for yourself though, right Shin?"

"Um. Right."

“Well hey, listen Shin,” Regulus lowered its (his?) voice conspiratorially, “I’m not actually supposed to do any talking until my big reveal at the throne room. So let’s just keep this between us, yeah?”

So now Shin was in a conspiracy with the still-living head of a demon. So that was cool. “Sure? I mean, okay?”

“Awesome; you’re the best, Shin. Anyways, I.” –Regalus cut himself off mid sentence, one of his three sets of ears perking up. “Aw beans, he’s coming back. Sorry, gotta go mannequin again; hope we can talk again some day, Shin!”

With that, the demon head stiffened, his eyes rolled back and his fang-filled mouths frozen in a rictus of furious agony. To all outward appearances it was completely dead, nothing more than a plain old everyday decapitated demon head. Had Shin imagined the entire conversation? Honestly, the Schemer reasoned, that would be kind of a comfort.

“I told you, I just put it down for…Oh! There!”

Shin was beyond being fazed when a girl burst around the corner, snatching up the bloody head. She was short, somewhere between four and five feet, probably not a human, and absolutely a Player; the way she crowed over the disgusting thing like it was a prize pumpkin spoke to the sort of insanity Players seemed to uniquely possess. She grinned up at Shin, utterly unconcerned by the fact that her expensive-looking armor and bright pink pigtails were getting smeared with gore. “Hey! Guess what!”

What else was Shin supposed to say? “What?”

The girl thrust out her grisly trophy, beaming with pride. “I killed the Demon King! I, Balanthora, am the Savior of Magica!” When Shin didn’t immediately respond, she furrowed her brow and shook Regalus’s head at him. “Well? You heard that, right? Demon King? Killed? Savior of Magica?”

“He’s not from the Destined Path, my guy,” Another Player, this one sporting glimmering mail and vaguely reptilian features, snarked from his position leaning against the wall. “Probably not even from the same Expansion. I doubt he’s ever even heard of the Demon King.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Oh.” Balanthora slumped at that, then straightened back up with cheeks puffed out in irritation. “Well that sucks! I’m trying to RP here, and the NPCs don’t even react right?”

A third Player, a lithe human woman with a shield strapped to her back, snickered. “You think Mundi’s gonna update the lore for the whole world every time they introduce a new Big Bad? Nah. They’ll just do what they always do.” She lifted her hands, adopting a spooky voice. “‘You may have defeated me, heroes, but know this! I was merely trying to stave off an even greater evil! The true enemy is yet to’–”

“La-la-la I can’t hear your spoilers la-la-la~!” The dwarvish girl stopped babbling and covering her ears as soon as it seemed like her companion had finished, shooting the other woman a venomous glare. “You know, I didn’t pay you guys for this carry to get made fun of.”

“Really?” The lizan quirked his fin-like ears. “Why did you pay for it, then?”

“I paid for it to…hmph!” The girl stuffed Regalus’s head into a comically undersized bag, the enormous thing somehow vanishing into its depths. “Whatever, dude. The Port Master was super impressed with me, you know. I’m gonna be his special guest at dinner tonight! You know, since I’m The Savior of Magica and all.”

“Oh really?” The woman raised her eyebrows, sharing a look with her lizan compatriot. “That’s so weird. He told us the same thing, too. You know, since we’re,” They both reached into their own bags, pulling out completely identical decapitated heads of Regalus Vileblood, Tyrant-Lord of the Lands of Inchoate Horror and intoning in unison, “The Saviors of Magica.”

Balanthora immediately stormed off in a huff, her pastel pigtails flouncing as furiously as bright pink pigtails could manage. The lizan stuffed his own trophy back into his bag, following his tantrum-throwing employer. The woman, however, lingered long enough to twist a not-entirely friendly smile at Shin. “Welcome to the Destined Path, doggo.” She cocked a finger at the kobold, then pulled it back in a firing motion. “Pew.”

And then she, too, was gone. Shin had met four people since teleporting into Anyport, and by far the most pleasant among them had been a still-living demonic head. Not the best sign.

Speaking of Anyport.

Having finally gotten through his post-teleport, post-demon head, post-Player stupefaction, Shin could take full account of his surroundings. Anyport seemed to be an artificial island of sorts, created by the hulls of countless ships wedged into a series of spiky rock formations bursting out of the ocean. And there was no question that that was precisely where they were: the middle of the ocean. A vast expanse of endless blue expanded in every direction, broken up only by the steady trickle of ships coming and going from Anyport’s harbors. Gero and Momo were making good use of that endless expanse of blue at the moment, the former holding the latter over the side of the pier so she might continue heaving her guts into the otherwise pristine waters.

It seemed like Shin wasn’t the only one who’d found teleportation to be a bad time. Luckily, he’d received some advice on the matter. “You should curl your toes,” he called out to the still-spewing Priestess. “Being here in the moment can help.”

Momo groaned out a response that may or may not have been confirmation. Maybe the advice was more compelling when delivered by a Demon King.

“I caught the end of that, you know.” Shin glanced over to find Bittercup at his side, the elven woman looking a bit drained of color but otherwise unharmed by the magical travel. “You need to be careful, Shin.”

The kobold tilted his head. “About the Players? I know, we’ve got to–”

“Yeah, you don’t know shit.” Bittercup raised the hood of her cloak, peering cautiously in the direction the three Players left. “This isn’t Shinki Itten. Okay? This is the Destined Path. This entire world exists solely for their amusement, you know.”

Shin frowned. “And how is that any different from everywhere else?”

“Oh, it’s different.” The elf shook her head, shuddering slightly. “You’ll see.”

“Would you mind letting me know when you see how it’s different?” Mimasu piped up. “I want to make sure I memorialize your thoughts!”

Shin’s ears shot up in surprise. “Mimi? What? Why are you here?”

The little scribe blinked, tilting his own head in confusion. “Wasn’t I supposed to come?”

“I mean,” Shin scratched at his head. “I guess there was no reason you couldn’t, but I’d thought you were going to stay home?”

“Oh, I couldn’t! What if I missed anything particularly thought-provoking? Like this!” Mimasu eagerly flipped back a page in his notes. “Your advice about toe-curling! Ingenious! Ground-breaking!” The scribe winced as his praise was interrupted by his own groaning stomach. “Though, um, maybe not one hundred percent effective? Would you hold these, please?”

With that the little kobold carefully handed Shin his scrolls and quill, and then rushed to the railing to join Momo in a chorus of retching. So this was Anyport, was it? Talking demon heads, dangerous Players, and a bunch of vomiting kobolds.

Maybe Feldspar and the obvious trap it represented wouldn’t have been such a bad choice after all.