“Substitution.” Lock blurted out, gaining a confused half glance from Grandfather, a glance that quickly turned into an understanding one.

“I got no experience from that kill,” Grandfather remarked, “well, as much as one would normally get from a sheep. Go back into hiding Lock.” He reminded gently before walking back to the centre of the room and picking up his shield.

Lock nodded and retreated.

“What are your thoughts?” Grandfather asked curiously, standing before the entrance into the cave in a defensive posture.

“The whole situation depends on how the substitution effect works.” Lock said quickly, his middle finger finding its way to his mouth for him to bite at the nail. “Did the sheep die in place of the cyclops, or did the cyclops save himself by sacrificing a sheep in his place, or to reverse the termination and location of the body, are we even talking about death reversal here, or is it time reversal, because if it's time reversal then the cyclops might have travelled so far back that he doesn't remember being attacked by us yet, is the cyclops even alive anymore, or was the substitution of the experience you would have gained being replaced by the sheep a kind of last fuck you skill, a manner of you won't profi-” Lock babbled out at a blistering pace, the stream of consciousness bursting forth like a waterfall, only to be interrupted by grandfather raising a hand.

They waited for a bit like that, before grandfather started to speak.

“I know it's not the easiest thing to do, but try to remain calm. Also try to keep your thoughts pertinent to the situation.” Grandfather said and stilled for a few seconds before continuing. “While the manner in which the skill works is important, what's most important is how the skill affects our situation.”

“Don't waste energy on non-time intensive matters, got it.” Lock said.

He waited a few seconds to get his thoughts in order before he spoke again, “there are three things that can happen now, if we are to assume that the cyclops is alive and that this wasn't a ‘last fuck you skill’, where he dies, but denies us the experience.” He extended a finger to help with mental representation, “one, the cyclops has been returned back to his position in the cave without the knowledge of how he died, a time reversal so to say.” He extended a second finger, “two, the cyclops is awake, knows everything, and is rushing here right now to get another swing at us to pre-empt any attempt at killing the sheep in case he can use the same skill again.” Last finger, “Three, he did not return back to the cave that you found him in, then we don't know where he might be, and we should just loot the place and leave.” Lock finished.

“Well, you're not wrong, but still a bit wordy.” Grandfather said musingly. “It can be condensed into one sentence really.”

Lock kinda doubted that, so he raised a challenging eyebrow, receiving a small smile in return.

“It's either going to come running back here to attack us, or hole up in its cave and try to take up a defensive position.” Grandfather said.

“But that's not condensing what I said though, what if the cyclops is somewhere else, or doesn't remember the fight.” Lock said petulantly. Sure those were rather unlikely possibilities, now that he thought about all the information they had.

“I have experience, I know how skills work, and time reversal and a displacement to somewhere else are unlikely, even if the skill grips the closest sheep, those would still be the ones in its cave.” Said grandfather simply, and that was that really. Lock knew when he'd lost an argument, he hadn't considered Occam's razor being important in the adventuring business because surely paranoia paid off there right? But when taking all possibilities into account meant not focusing on the most likely possibilities first, well that was the point where you should really re-evaluate your thought patterns.

The conversation was done, the lesson taught, so they just kind of stood there for a few minutes. It was becoming obvious that the cyclops was not going to come running at them out of the tunnels anytime soon, so Lock scrounged up a piece of jerky from one of the small pockets present in his adventuring boots and started tearing at it.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The space was usually meant for small blades and such, or string, but a man's gotta eat. His grandfather gave him a reproachful look, upon which he pulled out a second piece of jerky and threw it at the old man.

He wondered if they would try to attack the cyclops again, outsmarting the monster and drowning in booty afterwards, or if they would just leave, it not being worth attacking a forewarned enemy.

Considering that the way grandfather had handled his profession of adventuring in a manner that let him actually grow old they would probably leave.

“The poison you gave me,” grandfather started saying, “how strong was it?”

“Strong enough to completely paralyse a civilian several times over.” Lock answered, grandfather nodding and thoughtfully scratching his chin.

“I managed to stick the cyclops in the gut with the poisoned dagger, could it be that the reason why it's not coming is simply because the poison finally incapacitated him?” He asked.

Ah, Lock thought to himself, he'd completely forgotten about that, he'd noted the dagger sticking out of the cyclops gut as it came running after grandfather, but had forgotten all about it during the excitement of the fight. It must have fallen out sometime before the staring match, or he would have surely noticed it again.

He looked around, looking for the glint of steel somewhere on the ground, while idly answering grandfather's question, “poison takes a while to spread through the body, it's a common misconception that an afflicted person drops the second it is applied. The combat probably quickened the spread through the bloodstream and I can imagine that the cyclops is feeling some of its effects by now, but it shouldn't be paralysed enough to not move, unless it's particularly weak against poisons.” He couldn't spot the dagger. He furrowed his brows, and walked to the spike pit that they'd dug, and that had proven to be largely useless. Looking inside he spotted the damn thing, it must have fallen out of the cyclops as it made the jump.

“The cyclops showed itself to be quite intelligent for its species, it wouldn't really come out to fight again if it was weakened by poison would it?”

Lock froze for a moment, letting the thought roll through his head, well, well, well, maybe they wouldn't be leaving after all. He still needed to play devil's advocate though.

“Maybe the substitution thing cured it, and it's simply waiting out the cooldown so it can use it again before coming after us.” As expected he received a shake of the head for that statement.

“I can believe the part that it's waiting for the cooldown, but not that that its cured. You know what, I'll go check.” Grandfather said, and gaining a shrewd look in his eyes continued, “also, I think that the cyclops still does not know of your existence, think on how we can use that.”

Lock watched grandfather slink away to his aforementioned task, while putting away the dagger he'd pulled from the pit, being extra careful not to nick himself with it. Incapacitating himself with his own poison would be pretty embarrassing. There was also cyclops blood on the thing, who knew what diseases it carried now. He needed to remember to bring a piece of cloth to wipe down weapons with next time, he couldn't very well use his clothes.

His mind wandered back to the prompt grandfather had given. The cyclops not knowing about his existence was an interesting tidbit of knowledge that rested on the assumption that the cyclops hadn't just ignored him, but that was unlikely. It had been fairly obvious that the cyclops could only sense Grandfather if he moved, Lock hadn't moved, ergo, the cyclops didn't know he was there.

What could be done with this information? Lock could potentially stand still somewhere in the cavern and throw stuff at it as a distraction. He scratched his head, he needed to think about it a bit differently. What was the biggest advantage the cyclops had? Definitely its earth sense, without it it would be entirely blind and be left completely at their mercy. Could Lock do anything about that? No, he couldn't imagine how.

The second biggest advantage? Definitely the substitution skill. Could Lock do anything about it? Potentially, he could kill the sheep that the skill seemed to revolve around. If grandfather could lure the cyclops out of its cave again, Lock could hide inside one of the off branching tunnels, and once the cyclops had passed him, sneak into his cave and slaughter the sheep. All this predicated on the cyclops willingly leaving his cave though, it hadn't turned out that well for it the last time, so it might not want to.

Adventuring was hard, hopefully it would become easier with practice, the entire situation stank. Oh wait, that was the dead sheep, Lock stepped away from it and freed himself from the stench. That was also the moment when Grandfather came back from his scouting mission, being curious Lock immediately asked, “so, what's the situation?”

“The cyclops is in his cave, I only went far enough to check on his presence so he wouldn't sense me through the earth, so I don't know if he's poisoned or not. Have you managed to come up with a plan?” Grandfather asked, at which nodded his head.

“Yes, I could stay behind in one of the off-branching tunnels right before the cyclops cave and slaughter the sheep if you manage to lure the hulking beast out again.” Lock said, gaining an approving nod.

“Good plan, we just need to be careful about the tunnel we choose, it can't be too close to the last room, the cyclops might sense you taking position otherwise.” Grandfather said, and that was it basically.

They discussed some more finer details as they carefully made their way to the chosen tunnel, one approximately in the middle of the main path between entrance and boss room. Grandfather checked the cavern beyond once again, making sure there weren't any surprises there, before leaving, his footsteps echoing slightly. Lock then picked a spot and stood there, moving as little as possible, he had a minute or two before he had to start moving so he simply gazed around slowly, as if the quick shifting of his head would lead to his discovery.

This move on his part was the one that let him see a quick flash of movement out of the corner of his eyes, ripping his attention from the stalagmite he was gazing at, to the entrance of another off-branching tunnel that he could see from his own position.