> For defeating level 38 Redscale Basilisk, you gained 5,142 Experience Points.

> You gained two levels. You are now level 22.

> Excess Experience points discarded.

> Dude, just stop. Run away. Don't go over your head or you will lose it. I repeat. One day, you will get killed. In a world where people can and do live for tens of thousands of years? This is your last warning.

> You have to distribute 10 Attribute points to each of your bonds now.

In my addled state of mind, I put all ten on Endurance. For both of them. And then, because obviously, I should triple down on a bad decision, I spent all thirty of mine on Endurance too.

Only when it was all said and done did I notice how stupid it was.

I could literally scout Goblin tribes for the rest of my life and never want for Endurance.

Meh. Levels came and never went away. Unless I died. And it wouldn't matter anyway.

I dragged myself to where I left Sleepy in his crate. Checking my Status, I noticed that both my bonds had advanced two levels as well. Great. We needed all the points we could get.

I earned almost all the ten points back. I really had to find another two bonds with good rarity. If I had another two Sleepys… no. The bond wouldn't have double the benefits. No sense in getting greedy. I had to befriend the monster before we bonded.

Reaching them, I examined both, starting with William. Ordinary goats regrew their horns and the Tityron was no exception. They would grow back in a few months. I checked his ribs, legs, and neck. No signs of any wound or discomfort through our link. I met those eerie square eyes.

"You were awesome, William."

The Tityron bleated happily.

I sat next to the crate and checked inside. Sleepy was awake but lying down, feeling hurt physically and emotionally.

I checked him without taking the little guy out. Sleepy was wounded but would surely make a full recovery. It would take time.

"Who wants to eat the flesh of our enemy?" I asked. "The first one to answer gets the heart." William looked at the crate. "Very magnanimous of you."

I went slow as I carried Sleepy's crate to where the Basilisk's corpse was. Butchering a creature this big would take a whole day at least. Better get started

*

*

We ended up spending the remainder of the day and the entirety of the next one on the island.

I collected everything I could. A huge roll of scaled hide was occupying a slot in the Armament Quiver because, of course, you could beat someone with a roll of raw scaled hide. A pouch of fangs and claws, a jar with the remaining eye, a literal metric ton of tail meat wrapped in an oiled tarp, and the long bones and the flat ones.

The leg, belly, and rib meat were all consumed on the spot. Neither of my bonds refused and they ate as much as they wanted. I was sure Sleepy had gained at least another two kilograms.

But one thing surprised me. Next to the Basilisk's heart, I found a crystal sphere roughly the size of an acorn. It was a monster core and it brimmed with power. Damn. A monster at this low level and rarity shouldn't have a Core. They usually appeared around level fifty.

It begged one question. Why was the Redscale Basilisk here? What drew this monster from Gods Know Where to here?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I was ready to go but decided to remain on the island for another day. I wanted to find what attracted the Basilisk. I had to report it to the Guild.

It was a male so it wasn't a nest with Basilisk eggs. It ate river fish so it wasn't food. It could eat river fish anywhere up or down the river.

So, I went to turn the whole island upside down. We started with the Basilisk path. Obviously, if something it wanted on the island existed, it would have found it or moved on. After I followed the monster's tracks everywhere, we spent hours crisscrossing everywhere. I found nothing and felt like I had wasted a day.

If I was by myself or wasn't a Beast Tamer, I would have missed the answer. William seemed to like a particular spot. I couldn't tell why but he kept tugging me to go back there. I indulged him and we circled around to get there.

The first clue was that the Redscale Basilisk also came here. The first time, I ignored William's pleas. No more. The second clue was that Sleepy also liked this spot a lot once I took him out of the crate.

William sat down and Sleepy leaned next to the black ball of wool. Then, they did nothing. Just stayed there, enjoying some decompression time. I also sat down and thought.

With my eyes closed, I let my mind drift. After the Basilisk died, birds started to return to the island. I heard the birds sing, the wind rustling the trees, the river gurgling as the water sped by, the rumbling of an underground cave, the river fish splashing, the trees creaking, footsteps echoing in the distance…

Wait a second.

Two of these things did not match with the others. What was I missing? I looked down. The Basilisk could go anywhere on the river and have the time of its life. It had gills hidden under the scales and lungs so it could breathe anywhere above or below the water. Its digits had webbing to swim.

If nothing on the island was worthy of its attention, then the only answer was below. Something was below the island. Something that attracted monsters. Luring them with mana to then devour them and add their species to its repertoire.

Bloody hells. It was a Dungeon. I had just found a wild Dungeon.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

On one hand, the Dungeon was on land owned by a Noble. It belonged to the Noble. On the other hand, nobody knew of it.

On one hand, delving into an unknown Dungeon was suicide. On the other hand, if I reached the Core and broke it, I would gain a second main Class. It was the same as doubling my everything. Double the Attributes, double the Perks, and more.

I could be mistaken. A blue box proved me wrong.

> For scouting the location of a wild Dungeon, you gained 2,000 Experience Points.

I couldn't even breathe. Half a level? Fuck. It was time to leg it.

I stored the crate in my quiver and scooped Sleepy. Nobody wanted a Wild Dungeon that could spawn Wolfertingers. No. It was a lie. People would love a Dungeon that spawned Legendary monsters. I wouldn't.

Now that I think of it, Alice sold four intact Wolfertinger corpses to undisclosed parties. One of them could have already fed the monster species to a Dungeon.

"William, heel!" I snapped like a Drill Sergeant.

We went to the other side of the island, its upriver tip. Fuck. If the Redscale Basilisk went inside the Dungeon…

I had half a mind to use another of Alice's signal arrows. But I wasn't in immediate danger.

The suns were setting. I decided to sleep here and hike back to town in the early morning.

On the next sunrise, I broke camp and went back to the sand bank upriver to signal for the boat. We could swim across but no, thank you.

When the boat didn't come, I had Sleepy wear my Guild tabard and sent him to the plantation manor with a letter.

Sleepy flew away. I waited for two hours and sensed him returning. He brought the boat, two knights on horseback, and a small group of farmhands.

In another hour, we were back to the plantation. I said nothing to the knights, only that I killed the beast. They asked for proof and I showed the eye in a jar.

If you killed a wild monster, the spoils were yours, regardless of where you killed it. So long you weren't trespassing, of course.

A liveried servant on a fast horse intercepted us. It wasn't hard. My escort of two knights stopped when they saw the servant coming. He addressed me.

"Our Lord, Baron Montmour, wishes to talk to you before you go."

It was the kind of invitation I couldn't refuse.

*

*

I was at the parlor with the Baron himself. Sleepy and William were rearing at the stables.

"Scout George," Baron Montmour said, "I am sorry your splendid tame monsters got injured. Despite the odds, your team proved your valor! A Redscale Basilisk, a Very Rare monster! Cheers."

We toasted. I had to drink the scotch the Baron offered me and felt a little less bad for spending thirty points in Endurance.

"Your Lordship flatters us."

"Think nothing of it. I just say things as I see them. I wish to buy a trophy from the Basilisk from you. And also reward your efforts in clearing my lands of such a dangerous creature."

That was bad. I intended to use the Basilisk's hide to make armor for William and me. The scales proved nigh impenetrable and the bright red would…

Wait. Why did I want to show off in bright red scale armor?

"The monster's head was damaged during the fight. I harvested the hide. It is bright red like rubies, and it would match one of your House colors."

The Baron laughed. "You have a merchant's soul, my dear George. Where is the hide? I could make a wall decoration out of it. Reptiles really don't make good rugs."

We laughed. Though I was just faking it.

Fuck. I wasn't ready to tell him I had a storage item. But the cat was kind of out of the bag. I doubted the good baron would do anything to harm me. In public and out in the open.

"The hide is raw and I would hate myself if I soiled the parlor."

"Oh, right," the Baron said without batting an eyelid. "Let's move to the butcher."

He raised some livestock on his estate. Getting there, I removed the roll of hide from my quiver.

"Impressive." He said as he examined the quiver and then my amulet. "I didn't think you would have a storage medallion. Good trick making it seem like it's the quiver, though."

"Well, I have here thirty square meters of scaled Basilisk hide. Could I suggest you take the middle section of its back with the spine ridge, which would look good on your wall and give a sense of the creature's proportions? I also have its skull and jaw, though defanged. A good Taxidermist could even combine the bones and some hide to recreate its head. I wished to keep the remainder of the hide so I could commission armor from it."

"Nonsense. Why would a Scout want to wear bright red armor?"

"It's not for me. I wanted to have the armor enchanted with resizing among other enchantments and then put to auction."

"Ah, if I had half of your business acumen when I was your age, George. But all I wanted was to chase after skirts in my day. Let me offer you a partnership. I will fund this business of yours. I'll pay the Leatherworker, the Armorer, the Enchanter, and the auction fees. After I recoup my expenses, we split the profits into equal shares. Before you think this is a bad deal, remember that I will use my connections to drive a better price. I can even guarantee a minimum."

It was a good offer. The Baron would take all the risk off of me. Sure, I might end up with less money but it would be free money.

The reason he was being so generous was obvious. I was someone on the rising and the offer was an investment in my future. I could become a good ally to have.

I almost felt bad for not telling the Baron about the Dungeon.