The following morning, Percy treated Rin to a hearty breakfast of grilled sausages and eggs. By the time they ventured to the bustling town gate, the sun was peeking its face over the distant plains, painting the sky gold.
“Take care of yourself, scamp,” said the tinker, locking forearms with the boy. “You’re welcome back anytime, as I hope you know.”
“I hope I’m not leaving you in a mess with the sergeant. Here’s the ten percent fee I owe.” Rin went to press some coins into Percy’s hand, but the tinker waved him off.
“Oh, I never told you? He waived the fee. It was a moment of weakness when he saw you bounding back into the dungeon to practice.” The man slapped Rin on the back. “Now get off with you, already! I can’t be getting misty-eyed at this hour of the morning. I’ve honest negotiating to get done.”
Rin gave him a fierce hug, then spun away, striding purposefully from the town gate and melding into the early morning crowd of laborers headed out for the day.
He adjusted his leather knapsack slung around one shoulder, settling in for a long walk. Once his blood started pumping, his pace picked up and his gaze lifted to the horizon, an unseen burden lifting from his shoulders.
He loved Percy dearly, but something about being under his roof resembled living with his parents, as if he hadn’t properly grown up yet. But out here alone, he felt an unfamiliar surge of freedom that was addictive.
A fork in the road presented itself, with the common farm traffic peeling off to the left, headed for a broad stretch of farmland. Rin’s destination lay to the right and west, skirting the foothills of the mountains. The road then devolved from gravel to firm compacted dirt, with the nearest visible travelers—a group of two, riding a cart—as much as a mile ahead, rising and falling with the rolling swells of grassland.
The landscape continued that theme for much of the morning, a brisk mountain breeze with hints of pine and wild mint buffeting his face, flushing his cheeks, and teasing at his cloak. The chill in the air was a constant refreshment, chasing the sweat from his back as he pounded away the miles.
The verdant hills eventually gave way to a lesser quality soil, littered with split boulders and hardy shrubs. Around midmorning, the road forded a chuckling stream bedecked with smooth pebbles of bright colors before winding into a towering blockade of alpine forest.
Here, Rin stopped for a drink and to methodically chew the jerky that was becoming his regular diet. He didn’t linger, eager to press on into the forest while the going was good. The dirt road wended through a host of switchbacks to avoid the immovable trees. The breeze here fell to a whisper and the air beneath the shadowed canopies was stifling and close. His steps became more measured, alighting silently on the evergreen needles carpeting the floor. Part of him didn’t want to spoil the tranquility of the forest. Another part was mindful of the increased danger of such a quiet place. Each crunching footfall felt like a trumpet announcing his presence.
I could transform into a bat and skip this forest altogether. But how would I carry all my stuff?
He didn’t possess much: a sword, some dried rations, and a money pouch. Strapped to the outside of his travel sack were the dungeon map and a hefty waterskin, newly refilled, while his walking staff fitted firmly in his grasp. A single change of clothes was stashed at the very bottom of his sack, but they were the only items his new wardrobe ability could replace. His possessions were meager, yet they were still enough to limit his Transmutation, and that was a problem worth solving.
I could really use a storage ring.
He strode onward, admiring the lances of light penetrating the forest canopy. The pervasive bouquet of evergreens and ancient soil filled the air. The unadulterated bliss of nature calmed his mind.
Until he heard the screams.
At first, they were distant, dulled by the thick trees crowding in on either side. But as he bounded forward, the cries became more defined, punctuated by crashes of splintering wood.
Rin’s senses were on high alert. His accelerated pace brought him to a wide clearing. Two people hid beneath an upturned cart, wailing.
Hovering above the cart was a jumbled ball of wooden sticks, several feet wide and spinning madly. It was a wood-type monster, a strange stick tornado surrounded by a throbbing red glow that meant it was enraged.
The rotating mass smashed down on the cart’s floorboards, blasting them into splinters that joined the monster’s central mass. It was eating the cart. Violently.
Level 17 Whirling Stick Devil (Wood Type)
Before Rin knew what he was doing, he hollered at the monster, waving to get its attention.
Will my charm effect even work if it’s enraged?
Answering his question, the spinning ball launched at him with shocking speed.
Before the boy could register surprise, he activated his Transmutation ability.
Secret ability unusable. You may not transmute while being observed.
Dammit!
Rin sprinted for the trees. The monster crashed behind him. He rolled down a woody ravine, sliding from view. The tornado pursued.
He retried his ability and became a level 7 Stone Lemur.
Rin leaped into the trees, swinging between branches with the monster close behind. It chased him up a tree, chewing up its trunk. Rin swung left and it crashed beside him.
He leaped high onto a neighboring treetrunk, then another, and another. The ball of sticks lagged, but continued, spinning its way up the next tree.
How can I kill a ball of sticks? I need a fireball.
He narrowly missed another smash. Dropping to the forest floor, he ran full-pelt into the shadows. He zig-zagged among the trunks, using his monkey arms to swing into sharp turns.
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The monster ball tore steadily behind him, whirling dirt and tearing bark in a raging storm.
Rin blinked.
It’s bigger.
He lured it down the ravine, pausing on a stone outcropping that formed a ledge. He waited until it was barreling down on him before turning into a bat and shooting straight up.
The monster jumped in place, angrily trying to levitate higher, unable to surpass a dozen feet.
Rin furiously beat his wings. He reached a hundred feet high and turned human, twisting mid-air to aim at the ground and the monster eagerly awaiting him.
His body accelerated. His stomach lurched into his throat. He plummeted down facefirst, aimed squarely at the monster.
Twenty feet from the ground, he conjured a massive steel hat on his head, thirty feet wide and two feet thick.
He became a bat, swooping sharply to let the hat tumble away.
There was a satisfying crunch as the sticks were pulverized.
Enemy defeated
The following abilities have advanced by negligible amounts:
Craven’s Infinite Wardrobe
Craven’s Transmutation
Rin landed beside the corpse and turned human. His lungs gasped and the heady thrill of battle pounded in his veins.
That. Was. Awesome!
It was the first legitimate battle test of his new abilities and he couldn’t be happier. It had taken some quick thinking, but the strength of his new powers was undeniable. After some unavoidable jumping and running, he’d one-shotted the monster when it was in the perfect location for his attack to land.
I’m surprised that attack worked. I thought the clothes would disappear when they lost contact with my body.
The boy conjured a clean set of clothes onto his body and examined his status sheet. The continued existence of the massive steel hat decreased the size of his total mana pool by 5 points. Dismissing the thing brought his total MP back to the expected level.
Interesting. I don’t have to be in physical contact with the clothes I create, but they do have an ongoing cost. I wonder if there’s a limit to how far away I can be before the clothes disappear? Something to test later, I guess.
Bright green sap oozed from the monster’s corpse which had become a tangled mash of broken twigs. The usual trails of mana essence hung about in the air, lingering with nowhere to go.
Rin collected his things, then froze when he saw Craven’s Ring still on his index finger, the symbol on its face glinting a bright bronze in the sunlight.
All my other clothes are discarded when I transform. But not the ring. Strange.
The boy flashed into the form of a cave wriggler and back. The ring disappeared entirely in monster form, only to reappear back on his finger the moment he returned to human form. The boy shrugged, chalking it up as another quirk of Craven’s magic. Both the ring and the Transmutation ability were the god’s own design, after all. It stood to reason that a kind of natural parity existed between them.
He finished packing up his physical clothes, dumping them in his bag and deciding to leave his conjured clothes equipped. He had a feeling he would be using Transmutation again soon. It didn’t make sense to be constantly reclothing when it was the main reason for acquiring his wardrobe ability in the first place.
Traversing back up the wooded ravine took far longer than expected, and he was a sweaty mess when he reached the top. Stumbling over to the upturned cart, he was surprised to find no one around.
“Is it gone?” asked a woman from the distance. “The monster? Did you trick it or something?”
At the edge of the clearing, two heads peeped from within the prickly boughs of a blue spruce.
“It’s dead. I killed it.”
Two people scrambled out and hurried over. They appeared to be husband and wife, middle-aged merchants of some kind but not so well off as to hire a traveling guard. Their clothes were practical and without embellishment but well-made and of indisputable quality. The man was rotund and rosy-cheeked, sporting a thick beard that contrasted with his bald head. The woman was more slender, with angular cheekbones and a pointed nose that gave her face a severe look. An impressive braid of auburn hair snuck from an aged leather hat, trailing down her back.
Identify filled in the details.
Mikka Sonnig
Level 34 Tailor
Co-owner of Sonnig’s Magical Clothiers
Horace Sonnig
Level 35 Seamstress
Co-owner of Sonnig’s Magical Clothiers
Huh. Their levels are much higher than I expected, yet they cowered from that monster. Maybe because they have non-combat classes?
“Don’t lie to me boy,” said the woman, marching over. “You’re Cursed and only level six. You couldn’t have killed it.”
The muscles in Rin’s jaw sprang tight as he gripped his sword, the blade ringing out a dissonant note as it slid free of the scabbard.
The clearing fell silent, every bird stilled.
“Care to try me?” The edge of his vision was red. His blood boiled. “I saved your lives and this is the thanks I get? I should have left you to die!”
The man hastily stepped forward with his hands raised. “Now, now, it’s a simple misunderstanding, that’s all. Isn’t it, Mikka? We’re very thankful to the keen young lad, aren’t we?”
Mikka closed her astonished jaw and regained her composure. Rin didn’t see a hint of fear in her eyes, but his outburst had earned him a shred of begrudging respect from the woman. She took a step back and bobbed her head. “Aye, a misunderstanding. My apologies. No need for violence and all that, gods above.”
The red faded from Rin’s vision, and he sheathed his sword with the grace of an expert, the couple’s gaze catching every nuance of the movement.
Patience was one of Rin’s strong suits, or so he thought. But even he had his limits. He was tired of being judged solely on his level and his Cursed class, as if he was a lesser person than others. He realized this was only the beginning. As he traveled far and wide across the kingdom, all sorts of fools would throw shade at him. But he drew the line when it was someone whose life he’d just saved. He was furious. And rightly so!
With a supreme effort of will, he calmed his pounding pulse, forcing his fists to unclench. He exhaled forcefully and heaved his shoulders.
They’re lucky I didn’t lay into them. I was teetering on the brink there for a second.
Mikka shuffled her feet, eyeing him warily. “I don’t suppose you’d let us see the corpse?”
The husband rushed to interrupt before Rin’s anger could resurface. “It’s the blood, see? It’s a powerful dye for people in our trade.”
Dammit, I forgot to loot the monster! But it was just a stupid bundle of sticks ...
Rin paused, thinking back to the way the stick devil had died. “Hmph. I thought it was sap. Bright green?”
“You did kill it!” exclaimed Mikka. Her eyes were wide as saucers.
Rin folded his arms and lifted his chin. “How about a trade? I’ve already saved your lives. I’ll also give you the entire monster corpse, blood and all. And if we’re headed in the same direction, I’ll provide you some protection along the way.”
The man looked uneasy. This was beginning to sound expensive. “What do you want in return?”
“Food and shelter while we travel. But most of all, knowledge. I want to learn all about clothes. The more exotic, the better.”
Mikka’s face looked like she’d just swallowed a fly. “Knowledge? About clothes?” She cocked her head at him, suddenly suspicious. “How much do you want to know?”
Rin’s eyes narrowed. “I want it all.”