“If I looked liked that, I'd jump face-first into a pit of acid!” I yelled, launching my first self-made insult. And it worked! The closest kobold fell, done in by the power of banter, while his partners initiated a coordinated pincer movement.

Acting on the adage that the best defense is a good offense, I screamed and struck the first kobold squarely on the head with my broken staff. The forceful blow diminished half of his life. Out of the corner of my eye, I detected a sudden movement, then felt something pricking my lower back. Swiveling, I saw the second kobold standing before me, wielding a tiny sword no larger than an oversized toothpick. His massive eyes looked at his sword in disbelief.

I traced my hand over the spot he had stabbed me, only to find unbroken skin. Breathing a sigh of relief, I was thankful that I hadn't woken up in the delicate skin of a halfling, or, heavens forbid, a flimsy human.

I struck out thrice more, and in seconds, the trio of kobolds lay lifeless at my feet among the grime of the cavern floor. My vision remained colorless, so I decided to hold off on the healing potions.

Then, just as suddenly as the battle had escalated, the kobold bodies vanished, leaving behind a gratifying sight – loot. In the heat of the moment, I'd almost forgotten about that best part of any RPG. Each kobold had been generous enough to leave behind a small pile of coins. And coins could only mean one thing: there had to be a vendor somewhere. And where there's vendors, there's bound to be cool stuff.

I swiftly picked up the scattered loot, a mix of coins, rough scraps of leather, and a small satchel containing what smelled suspiciously like a healing potion. The pièce de résistance was the helmet that one of them had dropped. With a mix of apprehension and hope, I tried it on, and to my surprise and delight, it fit perfectly. Giving an affirmative nod to myself, I delved deeper into the dank dungeon.

The next foe I encountered stood in solitude within the mineshaft, his attention devoted to a pickaxe rhythmically striking a bronze vein in the cavern wall. Thanks to the element of surprise, he didn't register my presence before he had evaporated into nothingness. The highlight of this encounter was pair of cobber daggers he left behind. They emitted a modest grey shimmer, a clear sign of their pedestrian rank - common tier, yet they were a substantial upgrade from the piece of wood I'd been using to play whack-a-kobold. With their sharp edges, I carved a path through the next half dozen kobolds I encountered as I journeyed further into the cavern, my confidence soaring with each evaporated kobold.

The endpoint of the rustic mine/dungeon-hybrid was marked by a cozy fireplace, and just beyond that, a tantalizing chest. This was the grand prize I was seeking! The only hiccup was the kobold on steroids that paced back and forth in front of the fireplace like a bouncer at a seedy nightclub. I assumed what I thought was an intimidating attack stance, a pose that probably didn’t have any real benefit, other than looking cool, well, at least it felt like the stance looked cool.

“You're about as intimidating as a bunny with a toothache!” I hollered, watching the massive kobold's body shudder in response. There was no one-shot, or in this case, one-shout, for this heavyweight. However, I had managed to carve out a solid half of his health. He was much bulkier than the wolf, and I had only anticipated scraping away a tiny bit of his health bar with my insult. Unless... did my insults level up as I used them?

The kobold closed the gap before I could take my 25th breath, forcing me to engage in melee combat. I was hit only once, and for the first time, my world was awash in a sea of yellow. But I remained unfazed. The shivs had proven their mettle, and I fell the boss Kobold with two swift jabs.

With the adrenaline slowly seeping out of my system, I strolled over to the chest. Excitement sparked at the prospect of looting my first chest, yet a tinge of melancholy hung over the moment. The skirmish was over, and I'd genuinely relished the feeling of being overpowered. I had a nagging feeling that I wouldn't feel like that again.

The chest contained three items: A sleek rapier with a green shimmer, just as promised by Merlin, a pouch heavy with coins, and a ring. The ring was a snug fit for my bulky fingers, but I pocketed it nonetheless, intending to present it to Merlin. Who knew, maybe it was worth a some copper.

As I made my way back to Merlin, another grey wolf crossed my path. Deciding to test my theory, I let loose a roaring insult. True to my hypothesis, the wolf keeled over on the spot. My spell had indeed grown more potent! I was on top of the world, or at least, on top of the nearest hill, when I spotted Merlin waiting by the cart.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Walking up to him, I felt like the tallest dwarf that ever lived.

“Mr. Tim, you have returned! And with the rapier, I see. Well done!” Merlin said, waving his hands in his normal grandiose matter.

“Thanks! I feel much more powerful now than when I went in. And my spell, it does double the damage. Why's that?” I asked, unable to hide my excitement.

“Everything is amplified by your items. When you ventured into the dungeon, you were armed only with two halves of a stick, a broken weapon. Now, you wield an uncommon tier rapier and even a fine helmet. The higher the quality of your gear, the stronger your spells and attacks become,” Merlin explained with a smile.

“Interesting,” I mused. “I also found this ring, but it's too small for me.”

“Hmm, peculiar. Allow me to inspect this ring for a moment, there's something familiar about it. Meanwhile, here's your quest reward,” Merlin handed me a new parcel, and grabbed the ring eagerly

Congratulations! You've triumphed in your quest and aquired TWO new levels. You are now a level four Bard of the Highland Clan.

Your accomplishment has been rewarded with an upgraded Vicious Mockery - Level Two, along with TWO new spells – Light, and Ward. You now possess the capacity to cast spells that harness the ancient energy of mana. Light: This spell illuminates the vicinity around the caster and can be conjured with the word - "Light". Ward: This creates a protective barrier that shields the caster from all physical damage for a brief period. It can be summoned with the word "ward" and has a 50-breath cooldown. Like with Vicious Mockery, it won’t use up any mana.

Two levels! And the duel cherries on top were the new spells I’ve got.

“Light!” As the word slipped out of my mouth, a radiant light sprang to life above my head, brightening the area encompassing both Merlin and me. A blue aura filled my vision as I cast the spell.

“Ward!” I bellowed. While there was no visible change, I could feel an intangible shield enveloping me, an aura of potent protection. I smiled at Merlin, who was still engrossed in examining the ring, a frown creasing his brow. As the light dimmed, I tried to recast it, but this time vision was a more subdued hue of blue, and the light only flickered for a couple of seconds.

“How much mana do I have?”

Merlin glanced up from the ring, a puzzled expression on his face. “Hmm? What was that, Mr. Tim?”

“I asked about my mana.”

“Ah, yes, of course. I apologize. I was so fascinated by this ring you handed me that I lost sight of our conversation. Can you forgive my distraction?”

“Uhm, yes?”

“Ah, I appreciate your understanding, Mr. Tim. Mana is intrinsically linked to your soul and unlike health, skills, and power, it's not influenced by items or external factors. It grows as you grow, but as a bard, your true power lies with the cantrips, and you must carefully manage your mana usage. It will replenish over time but at a slow pace.”

That was a handy piece of advice. Note to self: Don’t spam light.

“Ward!” I shouted once more, causing Merlin to jump.

“There's no need to yell, Mr. Tim,” Merlin said. “You can even mentally command 'ward' since it's a personal effect. However, Vicious Mockery needs to be audible to its target.”

We shared a quiet moment, Merlin and I, each observing the other.

“Alright. What's next?” I asked when the awkwardness of the silence became too much to handle.

“Ah, yes. The next quest,” Merlin mused, absentmindedly twirling the ring in his fingers. “Your next mission is to journey to the town of Duckville and seek out the bard trainer. He'll guide you on your path to becoming a formidable bard. While you're there, I wonder if you could assist me with a small task?”

I nodded, my mind momentarily sidetracked by the peculiar name. Duckville? Was I somehow trapped in a Donald Duck cartoon?

“Excellent. I'd like you to take this ring and inquire around town if anyone might recognize its owner. But be wary, Duckville has its fair share of thieves. If you directly ask them who the ring belongs to, they may lie to get their hands on it. It's extremely valuable.”

“Alright, but why do you think the ring's owner is in Duckville?” I asked, intrigued by Merlin's obsession with the ring.

“Because the signet on this ring is something I've come across before. Plus, it's clearly designed for a human, you can tell by its size. See, it nearly fits me. I suspect it belongs to a nobleman or woman of high status. Do inquire on my behalf, and if you find something out, you can get in touch with me using this.” Merlin handed me a sapphire stone.

“Just rub it three times while uttering my name, and I'll appear within the hour. But remember, it only works once, so use it only if you determine to whom the ring belongs.”

“You're not accompanying me?” I asked, surprised.

“No, my work here is done. Flurin Bhunnel will guide you further.”

“Flour who?”

“Flurin. He's Duckville's resident bard trainer. You'll recognize him by his exquisite music. Just follow the harmonious strains.”

“Duckville, Bard-guy, Frodo's ring, and an Aladdin's lamp, got it! Which way do I go?”

“Sometimes I fail to comprehend you, Mr. Tim, but I do have faith in you. Follow this path for half a day and you will reach Duckville. I wish you the very best in your journey and remember, always keep a well-stocked satchel, sufficient mana, and your best weapon at hand. You will face numerous challenges along the way, but with diligence and determination, you have what it takes. Believe in yourself.” Merlin hoisted his cart and began to amble in the opposite direction.

“I bet you tell everyone that!” I hollered after him, and thought I saw the old wizard's ears perk up at my words.