The two tailors were far more agreeable once they saw the monster’s corpse. Mikka practically dropped to her knees, begging Rin’s forgiveness.

“It’s double the size of when it first attacked us!” she exclaimed. “It must have grown to well over level 20 when you finished it off.”

One of Rin’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t think monsters could do that. They don’t usually raise their level during a fight … do they?”

If this was true, Rin might have to adjust his combat style, taking monsters down early with overwhelming attacks and avoiding long, drawn-out fights wherever possible.

“It’s the sticks,” said Horace. “Wood-type devils use them as fuel to grow larger.” He gestured at the wall of trees on all sides. “And the source of sticks here in the forest is, well, it may as well be unlimited.” The stout man slapped Rin genially on the shoulder. “It’s a common trait of wood monsters. They like to grow. Good thing you took it down when you did.”

Rin suddenly found it difficult to swallow. Perhaps that fight had been much closer than he’d thought. “If that’s the case, what stops them from growing to be truly massive and swallowing the entire forest?”

“Mana,” said Mikka. “They run out long before that happens. They typically hoard their MP for when they truly need it. This one only had a couple minutes left, I reckon.”

Rin caught the greedy expression on Mikka’s face. It was the perfect time to close the deal. “Well? Do we have an agreement?”

The two tailors shared a look, then Horace raised his chin, his eyes twinkling. “We’ll happily share our food and shelter. We’ll also tell you about our trade and some special tricks unique to our particular styles. But we will not be sharing the secrets passed down by my father’s father. Those are for family alone, our inheritance to be passed on to our kin.”

“I agree to those terms,” said Rin. “But if I kill any more stick devils, I want to renegotiate. I’m not handing over another corpse for free.”

“Fair enough,” said Mikka, nodding to her husband who shook Rin’s hand.

The deal done, the tailors busied themselves looting the dead monster. Meanwhile, Rin brought up his status and scrolled down to the Available Creatures. There, at the very bottom was a brand new entry.

Available Creatures:

Level 4 Ratback (Stone Type)

Level 4 Lesser Cave Wriggler (Stone Type)

…

Level 24 Whirling Stick Devil (Wood Type)

Holy asscheeks of the gods—level 24! No wonder it was a challenge. I wonder what it’ll be like transmuting into a spinning bundle of sticks? I’ll have to practice before I use it in a fight. I won’t know which way is up.

The two tailors soon collected as much blood as they could from the monster, bottling it into a dozen glass vials. Horace gestured over a ring on his hand, and the items disappeared.

“You have a storage ring!”

The man shrugged. “Necessary tool of the trade.” He caught the hungry glint in Rin’s eye. “Don’t go expecting to get one of these from us. They’re bloody expensive.”

The boy’s shoulders slumped. “More expensive than your life?” he asked quietly. But Rin didn’t push the issue. The artifacts were costly. He knew that. And no matter how rude the tailors had been, he didn’t feel comfortable taking something of theirs that permanently stunted their livelihood.

Back at the clearing, Rin helped them wrench their cart right side up. It was a strange-looking thing, with four ridiculously oversized wheels, each eight feet in diameter. The wheels were also over a foot thick, with a curious track running along the insides of their rims. The cart bed was so short in comparison that it appeared almost laughable.

The thing weighed a ton, too. It was only because of an ingenious jacking mechanism Horace carried that they got the thing flipped over.

With the cart righted, they collected the tailors’ wares thrown about the clearing. Most items were bulky things of low value: bolts of cloth, piles of folded clothes, and sacks of strange tree nuts Rin couldn’t identify. It didn’t make sense to put these in their storage rings.

Rin paused, confused. “Where’s your horse?”

“Took you long enough,” said Mikka, hiding a grin. “The cart is trundler-powered. They’re all the rage in Borta.” At Rin’s confounded look, she jerked her chin westward, as if that explained everything. “Beyond the Salt Plains.”

“I know where Borta is,” said Rin defensively. “Well, I mean, kinda. But what’s a trundler?”

“Here,” said Horace. “Take a look.”

The man approached one of the wheels and rapped his knuckles on a square wooden crate nestled along its inside track. He withdrew wooden slats from either end of the box, reducing it to a wooden tunnel that arched over the track.

A monster tumbled out.

Rin blinked. His parents had educated him on many exotic animals and monsters, but he’d never seen anything like this. It resembled a miniature warthog about the size of a puppy, except instead of four legs, it had six, and its skin was covered in thick green moss.

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Level 11 Lesser Trundler (Water Type)

Horace leaned down and scratched at the folds at the nape of its neck. The little monster yawned, then took some tree nuts from his hand, chomping agreeably, before bouncing forward into a happy trot along the inside track of the wheel. It ran up the track until it couldn’t go any farther without slipping back down, slowing to a purposeful halt.

“What’s he waiting for?” asked Rin.

“The others. They’re all highly trained and know how to work as a team. Intelligent for their size, too. Poor eyesight, but they’ll run for miles and miles.”

Rin’s head tilted to the side. “Huh. I never would have guessed it’s a water type.”

“Aye, they drink like a fish. Fortunately, we just forded the stream back yonder, so they should be sated for a few hours if we’re lucky.”

He passed Rin a handful of nuts. “Here, you unlatch the trundler from the other wheel on this side. Feed it these while I take care of the two on the other side.”

Rin copied the man’s actions, knocking on the box before removing the slats. He even went so far as to copy the scratches on the back of its neck and discovered the green moss was actually the monster’s fur, thick and matted along its flanks, sodden with moisture. The monster munched greedily at the nuts in his hand, crooning at him and begging for more.

“Cute little fella, aren’t you?”

You have charmed a Level 11 Lesser Trundler (Water Type)

Duration: 10 minutes

That was easy. I forgot my Charisma is at 20 now. They don’t stand a chance against my charms!

The boy glanced at his status sheet, confirming the trundler was now listed under his Available Creatures. He remembered the description for Transmutation specifically mentioned charmed monsters would be added to the list, but this was the first ever monster he’d defeated by Charming alone. It was a relief to find the ability worked as advertised. Rin had no doubt he’d encounter monsters so powerful he’d never defeat them in battle. In those scenarios, Charming was his sole tool for success. The thought of such a formidable monster in his list quickened his pulse.

I can’t wait to get there.

Once all four trundlers were freed and waiting in position at the front of the wheels, their combined weight rocked the cart forward. In unison, the monsters trotted in place, pounding along the track and propelling the cart forward at the pace of a brisk walk.

“And we’re off,” said Mikka from a bench atop the cart. She grasped a cantilevered steering rod that attached to the front axle.

Horace swung up beside her and jerked his chin at Rin. “Come on up, lad. It’s a long walk out of the Quiet Woods.”

“Oh, is that where we are?”

The man’s eyebrow rose. “You don’t know? Gods, boy, just where are you headed?”

Rin clambered up and showed them his dungeon map, pointing at an X symbol.

“To the level 15 earth dungeon, on the other side of someplace called Malan Village. Or at least that’s what it says here.”

Horace shook his head. “Never heard of it. But here’s the Quiet Woods,” he said, stabbing his forefinger on the document. “Only the map uses its olden name, Briar Tree Woods. Nobody calls it that anymore.”

“I … see.”

The dungeon map was beginning to show its age. Now that Rin thought of it, he had no idea what that age was. He hadn’t thought to ask Percy, but now that he depended so heavily on the map, it seemed a critical piece of information. The scroll had self-preserving runes along its edge, maintaining its integrity. Theoretically, it could be hundreds or even thousands of years old, and Rin would be none the wiser.

The boy’s finger followed the trail on the map through an area of green shading that denoted the forest. As his finger progressed, it rounded an imposing hill of some prominence, then passed through a rock chasm titled “The Narrows” before arriving at the village called “Malan.”

“Do you know of any villages in this location?”

“No one’s been up that way in years, to my knowledge. I doubt that village exists anymore. Not for years and years, at least. There’s certainly no dungeon there.” Horace pointed at the depiction of the imposing hill. “That’s Dead Man’s Barrow. That much is obvious. We’ll be there later this afternoon, where the main road forks off to the west. I’m afraid that’s where we’ll have to part ways unless you change your mind about your destination. If you’re deadset on that old trail heading north …” The man paused to suck wind between his teeth. “Beware. They say Dead Man’s Barrow is haunted. You’d best avoid it altogether. Why don’t you join us on the journey west to Strathburn instead? It’s a fairly large city with plentiful opportunities. It’s where our shop is located, Sonnig’s Magical Clothiers.”

The boy didn’t respond, locked in silent contemplation with a distant gaze. Horace’s warning about Dead Man’s Barrow was suspicious. It was the kind of place Percy had encouraged him to investigate. But the casual dismissal of the earth dungeon’s existence was a surprise.

How can there be no dungeon there? A dungeon can’t simply disappear? Can it?

Horace peered closer at the document. “Where’d you find this thing, anyway?”

“It was a dungeon reward. I wish I knew how old it is.”

“Oh, I can tell you that. It’s right there, written in Elvish on the top right. See, it says, ‘Map of the Public Dungeons of the Kingdom of Hask, Year of Emperor Lystrellen, 395.’ That’s, uhh, let me think,” the man’s eyes darted up and to the left as he did the math, “460 years ago.”

Rin was stunned into silence. A lot can change in 500 years, but enough to make a dungeon disappear? That seemed unlikely. He shook the thought away as another presented itself.

“You know elvish?”

Horace nodded. “Elves are our best-paying clients. I’ll let you in on this secret for free. It pays to know their language. Literally. They have the wealth of ages at their fingertips and aren’t afraid to spend it. Not for the kind of luxury clothing we make. Our Upper Line, we call it.” He raised his chin with evident pride.

“He’s right,” said Mikka. “And elves won’t even bother with you if you don’t know their tongue.”

“They don’t even have copper coins in their currency,” said Horace. He held out a few coppers in his palm and shook them, clinking them together to emphasize his point. “It’s worth nothing to them.”

“And they only pay in gold and silver,” said Mikka. “If you try to haggle over bronze, it’s an outright offense. They walk away in disgust!”

Horace pocketed the loose change and Rin directed the man’s attention back to the map.

“You said there’s no dungeon up that way, yet the map clearly shows an earth-type one right there. Dungeons don’t just disappear. People would notice.”

Horace shrugged. “Could still be there. Maybe it fell out of favor over time. Maybe it was great for leveling once upon a time but didn’t yield much treasure, so no one bothers anymore. It happens.”

If one fact thrilled Rin more than any other, it was the promise of treasure. And if the beginner dungeon in Bastion had taught him one thing, it was that dungeons had secrets.

Lots of them.

So when someone claimed a dungeon didn’t have any treasure, it was the first thing he wanted to test for himself. The dungeon likely had plenty of treasure, all cleverly hidden within secrets no one else had discovered.

He now wished to find this dungeon more than ever. His heart skipped at the thought, and all his previous ambitions condensed into a single overarching goal.

I’m going to find every dungeon in Hask.

And conquer it.