~How stupid was I to assume that they will gather a strong, prepared party to fight a mosquito in a beginner dungeon. It doesn’t make sense… It isn’t worth it. Even if the assassin informed any guild or organization they would assume that he killed his comrades for personal gain and now he didn’t have any better idea to come up with than a magical mosquito as the dungeon master.~ The truth was that the assassin didn’t tell anyone about it. He knew they wouldn’t believe him one bit, so he changed the city, his name and profession. He didn’t even hesitate to leave his wife and kid. He would be hanged by now anyway. When Michael came out of the dungeon his evolutions and achievements remained. The [Dungeon Master] skill became dormant, and because of that - he lost half of his stats.

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[Dungeon Master]

Description: Your time have come

Effect: +100% to every stat while in your domain | absolute command over monsters spawned in your domain |

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- - - -

The reason why his “absolute command” didn’t work, is that he couldn’t even command them in any way, because of his inability to speak. Michael was flying along the dirt road. He could fly only 24km/h and double that with the water trail. He didn’t use it constantly to reserve mana for the possible encounters with different animals. Dragonfly from the dungeon could easily kill him now when his stats got back to normal. After a full day of flying he found himself back at his spawn point. The infamous puddle. He made his prayers and moved on. He could try to search for a mate to breed and that could be a really interesting experience as a mosquito. Judging from the weird achievements and skills he got so far as [Sucker] or [Death Seeker] he could probably get some kind of [Fucker]. However Michael knew that his drive to explore and conquer would plummet after mating like in all other male animals. So he moved on without giving much thought to that topic. On the way attacked him a swallow. He dodged, used [Stick] on its feathers. For a while tried to break through them with his proboscis. Then he bit and killed it.. Didn’t get any skills from suck. Just +1 agility. The rest of the way was peaceful. He passed three crossroads and had a medieval city ahead of him.

-Bzzzz- Michael couldn’t go past the gate watchmen unnoticed.

-Damnnn, that was a big ass mosquito, did you see that?- The first watchman stated.

-Probably a female. - His sentry duty partner shrugged it off. It was another day in Daion. The capital city of Boremon Kingdom. Why did Michael fly through the gate and not above the city walls? There were a lot of swallows flying above the city. He didn’t really want to deal with them because that could get him a lot of negative attention. The closer he stayed to the ground. The less chances a swallow had to hunt him. The first thing Michael decided that he had to do after going into the city, was to get a human he could communicate with. As a mosquito it was a really daunting task. The only people that would ever listen or try to communicate with a mosquito were druids - That didn’t visit cities and lived in a forest. Or a small percentage of drunkards wandering through the city at night. The former was more ideal but Michael didn’t have a choice now. He found a market plaza first. The loudest place within a city during the day with every merchant screaming their lungs out trying to sell “The best products at the best price” There were a few alleys going from the plaza, and there was an adventurer’s alley. Michael didn’t know the name of this alley but it was clearly meant for adventurers. Few taverns, blacksmith’s shops, and other shops with signs that clearly stated the owner’s profession. Alchemy, witchcraft, wand-tinkering, spell scrolls, potions and others with the signs not so obvious. At the end, there was the biggest building of the alley, made from a weird purple slates. Michael assumed that it was an adventurers guild. He back-tracked to the taverns. There was a dragon tavern, red bear bar, black wolf tavern and two others with a text above the entrance. He couldn’t figure out the text's contents but the typical illiterate drunkards probably also didn’t, so there was a really low chance of them stepping foot on these establishments. Michael flew to the tavern with the best appearance - the dragon tavern. Doors were wide open so he didn’t have any problem entering it. Everything except a fireplace in the middle was made out of dark reddish wood. There was a nicely dressed bartender at the counter. Two 4 person tables were occupied and three seats at the counter. Michael landed on the ceiling and waited for somebody to get drunk. He listened to all the conversations and tried to comprehend a new language. After the sunset, the tavern was filled with people. Some got drunk then Michael followed. All of them wanted to get rid of the mosquito following them. For a week Michael followed random drunkards trying to communicate with them. First three days at the dragon. Next three at the black wolf. Then the seventh day he waited at red bear.

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-Yo brats didn’t live enough- Clearly a drunk musclehead with white beard from old age started nagging at the neighbors on his left that were complaining about the maidenless life of an adventurer. -When you take only dirty unsocial jobs like clearing the dungeon it’s no wonder that you didn’t have any maidens in your life.- Alcohol clearly got to his head. -You shouldn’t lose your life clearing the dungeons, if you don’t have a one in a thousands talent to grow. Go for jobs like guarding a merchant’s caravan or helping elves in the forest.- Then he emptied the whole beer mug in one go and smashed it at the counter. The drunkard clearly did not read the mood because one guy was clearly going through the heart break. -Even if you go out there searching for a sponge to pollen, if you don’t understand their language you won’t pollinate. And let me tell you, it’s not Halish.- Halish was the language of this region. -Three silvers- Bartender demanded while looking at the old guy with a red nose. -Whoops- Old man was surprised. Didn’t he order just ten beers? Or maybe more… He lost count. For all he knew he only had one silver. -Haimer - began the drunkard. -As a regular customer at this magnificent establishment. Can I get a discount?-

-No.- Firmly stated bartender. -Hmmm…- Drunkard thought for a while. He put his hand in a pocket. ~Oh… No silver?!~ Even the silver he thought that he had, disappeared. -HMMM…- sweat could be clearly seen on that red intoxicated forehead. Then he pulled out a sword from his waist. Clearly scaring the bartender. -*Hic* What about paying with weapons?- Because he was drunk, holding the sword instead of putting it on the counter and the fact that he didn’t form his sentence clearly. Made the neighbor that he was just lecturing on maidens uppercut him in the jaw. Drunkard passed out immediately. He was stripped of his inventory as a payment and thrown out on the street by the guards. Michael got a new target now.

It was just a little before the sunrise when the old man woke up with a hangover. He rubbed his face with a big palm and then scratched his beard. -Ughm… Water- From the few days of staying in the bars and comprehending halish, Michael knew what the old man was mumbling about. He made a small stream of water midair at the man’s arm’s length. -Woah.- His aching head rolled like a helicopter, but he saw water. Yet he couldn’t make it. He just lied on the floor with an open mouth. The water stream moved right above his mouth. Bum started drinking. Because of his lying position he choked on water and started coughing. He sat up and with his face turned to the sky with an open mouth. The stream started watering him again. When he had enough he wiped his wet beard. -Water Magic.- The stream wasn’t an anomaly for an old man, he assumed it was a mage. -What do you want?- he asked with a hoarse throat. But he didn’t get an answer. He looked around. But there wasn’t anyone in his proximity. His attention grabbed a water stream. It circled around the ground a few times. His irises focused. Inside the circling stream stood a mosquito. -What the?- He had never seen something like that, and he was in his sixties already. He reached out his hand with an open palm. -Can you sit on my hand?- Michael understood, and did as the old man asked. -Woah!- Then he pointed at his shoulder -Now can you sit on my shoulder?- Michael agreed and sat on the shoulder. Old man pointed at his open mouth and said -Now water.- The old man started annoying Michael. He was older than him anyway, the old man’s tone wasn’t polite and he didn’t say please. Why should he lower himself so much to do a drunkard’s bidding? Michael splashed fifteen liters on the old man to sober him up. Old man gasped because of the cold. His mind cleared a little. Now not only was he stripped of his equipment. He was soaked wet because of the mosquito. -Not nice…- He looked at Michael sitting on his shoulder and started screaming at him pointing his finger at the shoulder -YOU CLEARLY KNEW HOW MUCH WATER I MEANT!- The few morning passer-bys looked at him with a “he’s clearly out of his mind” look. Resigned. Old man went to his apartment a few streets from the adventurer’s alley. Grabbed bread and milk he bought yesterday and started eating. He also poured milk into the small plate for his new companion. -It’s for you.- Michael landed on that plate and started sipping. Too bad he didn’t have any taste buds. -So…- Old man started. -Are you a demon?- Drunkard could only justify the magical abilities of a mosquito by him being a demonic being. Michael didn’t have any means of communication to answer that, but it was nice that he started trying to communicate with him. -Hmmm…- Old man thought for a while. -So you are a lesser demon, that’s why you can’t talk…- He answered the question himself. Michael felt offended for a second, but regained his composure and splashed the drunkard's head with water to communicate his disagreement. Old man had already changed into new dry clothes when he came back. Now not only was his clothes wet. Even the bread he had was soaked not only in milk but also in water. He sat there for a little while and sighed in resignation. Fresh water refreshed his mind but also enraged him a little. -So do I take it as no?- Michael this time also didn’t have any positive response in his sleeves so he didn’t reply in any way.. -We have to have other easier means to communicate…- Old man was getting tired of the water splashes and wanted to prevent them in the future. After a minute of thinking he continued. -When the response is yes, or positive, you will sit on my right shoulder. When it’s no, or negative, you will sit on my left. What about it? Do you agree?- Michael flew to his right shoulder. Old man smiled. then continued his breakfast. -So, are some kind of spirit?- Michael didn’t understand. He didn’t encounter the “spirit” word while listening in the taverns. So he sat on his head. -You don’t know?- Michael flew to the right shoulder. Old man finished his breakfast. Changed the clothes again and went to the exit. It was a small one room apartment. -Do you want to help me in my adventuring job?- Michael flew from the milk plate back on his right shoulder. Finally, Michael could go on the true adventuring with a companion like in the DnD.