As the sun neared the noon position, I arrived back at the village refreshed, yet distinctly worn out. It had taken a lot of energy to leap about the swamp and to wrangle the worms out of their burrows. However, with every attempt I was getting better at it. It took another hour to catch four, but it left me covered in mud and worm slime.

My first stop was to visit the blacksmith, Karl. When I explained to him my plan to kill a Golith turtle, he was more than happy to lend me a spear -- the best one he had. In addition, I ordered steel armor for myself -- to be paid with the gold I’d receive from the bug’s eyes. A helmet, gauntlets, greaves, pauldrons, bracers, and leg plates -- all custom fit.

Afterwards, I stopped by the leatherworker’s place and ordered custom wand holsters. I also wanted to order a padded vest, but unfortunately the shop owned by the seamstress was gone, along with the shoemaker’s. The two of them were rummaging through the rubble, pulling out whatever of value that wasn’t destroyed.

Darya caught up to me as I was heading back to chapel. I wanted to take a quick peek in the catacombs before heading back to the forest to gather some deadly webcaps.

She smacked her lips. “Bogworms? They’re a special treat. Amelia knows an amazing recipe with them.”

“That’s great, and maybe I can get her to cook three of them. I’ll need one of them to bait-”

“Goliath turtle? Ivy had told me about it. It’s not as simple as it sounds.”

“Why not?”

“I tried it before and wasn’t so lucky. They don’t just slump over right where they eat it, but can wander off and go underwater before the mushrooms take effect. And even if they fall asleep where you can reach them, any bit of pain and they’re right back up, mad as hell.”

“Lovely, but it’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yeah, absolut- Where’s Ivy?” Darya asked, looking around from side to side.

“Decided to keep sleeping.”

“Keep sleeping?”

I picked up the pace to the chapel. “What’s the name of this kingdom again?”

“The Kingdom of Trasal. Why?”

“Ahh, who’s the king?”

“King Montur, the third of house Krolia.”

“And the queen?”

Darya shrugged. “There was for a bit.”

“What happened to her?”

“He chopped her head off.”

I scoffed. “What? The king?”

“Yeah, did it himself. Now he’s looking for a new queen. That’s what happens when you get caught with the stable boy, but that’s just a rumor.”

“So it’s a monarchy of a sort, right?” I asked.

“That’s … right?”

“Where’s the capital?”

“The Ryton, to the west.”

“How far are we talking about?”

“A few days' ride, maybe? I haven’t been that far, you see.”

“Don’t like to travel?”

“No, I’d love to travel. Sadly, I can’t.”

“Why not, who’s stopping you?” I asked.

“I have responsibilities, you know? The orphans, the village, my father. I can’t just abandon them and go off wandering.”

“Right, right. And how many big cities are in this kingdom?”

Darya counted on her finger. “Six … seven if you count Cosford?”

“Are they at war with anyone?”

“No, well- .. they’re always itching to get into it with the bloody Renish, you know? Across the span.”

“The what?”

“The Wide Span, of course.”

“Oh yeah, that.” I had no idea.

“You got a map of the world?”

“The world? There was one at the inn, but it’s not very good. Didn’t you see it?”

“I must have missed it.” And judging by what was left of the inn, I may not see it anytime soon.

“What’s the geography like around here? I see we got the cube there, a swamp to the north of Moorhaven, some forest, hills.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Yeah, pretty much. Mountains to the north, and west. Rivers, lakes, that sort of thing.”

“How religious is everyone here? Amelia is very much into this Great Mother. What’s that about?”

“What do you mean? You don’t worship her where you’re from?”

I smiled. “No, why would I worship Amelia?”

Darya laughed. “No, the Great Mother of course.”

“Uhm, no, should I be?”

“Well, it’s really up to you, I suppose, but- … who do you worship then?”

“Good question. Let me get back to you on that. Also-”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, aren’t ya?”

“How else will I learn about this place?”

“You still haven’t said where you’re from, aside from the Gokroton, of course.”

“The wh- … nevermind. I’m from afar, and want to keep it that way.” Not that I had any choice in the matter. How would I get back to Earth now? How would I un-die? And also un-fuck my monster body too? Did I even want to go back? I left my mom back there. She probably had a funeral with a casket full of ash -- if that.

It’s been five days here, but I had a feeling that it’s been much longer since I had died on Earth. Maybe years, maybe centuries had passed -- there was no way to find out.

“Where’s Amelia?” I asked.

“Probably scrounging up whatever she can to feed the kids. The bogworms will make her happy.”

We found her in the chapel’s kitchen, and she was more than happy at the sight of what I had brought back. I set the worms on the table and told her about my plans to take down a goliath turtle, but she looked skeptical. Maybe she thought it was a waste of good food to use a worm as bait.

Darya raised up a pouch and dropped it on the table with a heavy thud. “Your share. Over two-thousand eyes worth.”

I lifted the pouch and was surprised by how heavy it was. It had to be around four pounds. I peeked inside and saw the glittering flecks of gold.

“How much is in here?” I asked.

Darya smiled. “A bloody fortune. Five-hundred twenty-three gold coins worth, and that’s after the chief’s share of fifteen percent -- for village repairs. Going to need it now, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, wow.”

Instantly, I opened the status screen to check if the Drakon’s Hoard was affected by this amount. Sadly, no. The buff hadn’t moved even a single digit. Just how much more gold would I need to get? Equally important, how much gold did my guarded hoard already have?

“Just be warned though,” Darya warned. “The tax collector will arrive tomorrow. The damn vulture swoops in as soon as the Dark Night is over. He doesn’t trust the villagers.”

“Should he?”

She shrugged. “It’s not enough that half the village is destroyed, he’ll want half the gathered gold too.”

“This is for the king right? The royalty? And what does the king provide in return?”

Darya groaned. “Ugh, don’t get me started. The answer is nothing. We get nothing.”

“This is king’s land, and we live on it,” Amelia said. “It would be wise not to start a rebellion -- if you’d be so kind.”

I lifted the pouch. “Should I hide it?”

Darya shook her head. “You can try, but he has a nose for it. He’ll find out one way or another.”

“Some villager would tell him?”

“I don’t know how he does it, but sadly there’s no hiding it from him.”

“Alright. On another topic -- how do I get down to the catacombs?” I asked her.

She cringed, looking taken aback. “Catacombs?”

“To check to see if any burrowers got in.”

“Ugh, alright. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Darya fetched a lantern, and lent it to me a lantern for the trip down to the catacombs. The entrance was from the outside, and I had to remove a heavy beam from the reinforced door to open it. The door groaned and creaked as I pushed it, grime and dust fell to the ground as if this door hadn’t been opened in a long while. Cold air with a foul stench wooshed out from the darkness down the steps.

I smiled, gestured ahead. “Ladies first.”

She looked at me with a confused look. “Huh?”

Apparently it wasn’t a common phrase in this world. “Nothing. Come on.”

I moved ahead, and she followed. We descended down into the ground underneath the chapel, before coming out to an open chamber. I lifted the lantern higher and the shapes bolted for darkness. I shuddered at the sight.

“Damn cockroaches,” I said. “Hate those things.”

They were many times bigger than what I had seen on Earth. Darya stayed behind me at the stairs with her hand over her mouth. Stench of rot and damp earth hung in the air, amplified by my heightened sense of smell. I nearly gagged.

“Is it supposed to smell this bad down here?” I asked her.

“Maybe? I’m not entirely sure. I haven’t been down here in a while.”

I took a few steps from the stairwell, moving the lantern from side to side to get a look about the place. It was a ghastly sight. Bones and skulls. Tombs, carved stone coffins, enclaves in walls with skeletal remains -- some broken open, some sealed shut. In this magical world, I fully expected the skeletons to rise up and attack.

Wand in hand, I stopped and listened, trying not to breathe too deep. An anxious minute passed, but my bat-wing ears didn’t pick up any skittering of burrowers. I took another cautious step forward, and then a few more. The lantern flickered as the flames danced, casting shadows that swayed with the movement of the fire. Darya ran to catch up with me. Her eyes darted from side to side, wide open trying to see into the dim darkness.

“You could have just waited at the stairs,” I told her.

“I-I … uhm, I feel safer with you,” she said nervously, moving in close.

A bone crunched under my foot. The sudden noise caused a cockroach to dart in our direction, nearly colliding with Darya’s foot. She jumped on my back, squawking, cursing under her breath into my ear.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Uhm, just how deep are you going?”

“A quick look, nothing more. This place is giving me the creeps.”

The chamber was more of a long, wide tunnel. As we delved deeper, the stench grew worse, the air became colder and more damp. We made it almost to the end of the chamber but didn’t find anything out of place. It all looked intact -- no broken through walls, or ground. Yet, despite not being able to find intruders, I couldn’t shake the feeling of something hiding, something sinister.

I turned around to go back, only to have a trio of cockroaches dash right at us. Did they think of us as a meal? I kicked one aside, crushed another under foot, sending guts splattering across the floor. The third got the message and fled.

I wiped my foot against the floor, smearing it. “Okay, I’ve seen enough.”

We bolted back up the stairs to fresh air and sunlight. Back up top, she slid from my back, slammed the thick door shut behind us, then locked it tight with the wooden beam.

“I hate that place,” Darya shuddered as if cold. “Bloody roaches.”

“Why not seal the place completely shut?”

She sighed. “Wish we could, but there’s villagers’ ancestors entombed there.”

“Yet nobody has bothered to clear out the bugs?”

She shook her head vehemently. “Don’t look at me. It ain’t my problem.”

Smells of fried meat drifted in the air. We forgot all about the catacombs, bolting for the kitchen.