… then turned back human and vomited all over the road. It took thirteen attempts to master changing into the Whirling Stick Devil. Another ten until he was confident he could do it during combat.

It was easy enough to transform. Staying that way was the problem. His body kept spinning apart before his Transmutation ability ejected him back into human form. His total MP would have bottomed out had the process been swift, but with all his stops and starts, it took an hour of training before he mastered the change. Along the way, he ignored a multitude of notifications saying the same thing.

The following abilities have advanced by negligible amounts:

Craven’s Transmutation

When Rin first displayed his status screen in the stick devil form, he wasn’t sure what to expect. The monster’s level was 4 times his paltry level of 6. The boost to his attributes did not disappoint.

Rin Cartwright

Level 24 Whirling Stick Devil (Wood Type) [CURSED] Level 6 Potato Farmer

Attributes:

Strength: 53 (+40)

Dexterity: 75 (+60)

Perception: 47 (+32)

Stamina: 51 (+36)

Toughness: 78 (+70)

Current HP: 780/780

Recovery: 56 HP/min (+26)

Magic: 90 (+80)

Current MP: 890/900

Absorption: 71 MP/min (+66)

Charisma: 20

Inherited Abilities:

Charge: Grade F

Bash: Grade F

Whirlwind: Grade E

My Magic got an 80 point boost!? That’s insane! And what’s this grade E whirlwind ability? Oh, I’ve got to try that!

When Rin focused on a point in the dirt road and activated Whirlwind, his spinning body accelerated into a true tornado with his myriad pieces thrashing the soil into dust. The MP cost was substantial, so much so that he doubted native Stick Devils ever used the ability in the wild. But he could see the attack being invaluable in the right situation. Pouring more mana into the ability expanded it into a formidable area attack that could affect multiple foes simultaneously.

He turned into a Stone Ratback to restore his MP as rapidly as possible before switching to human form for a short break. Then it was back to the same set of training drills, only this time as a Lesser Trundler.

Compared to the stick devil, changing into a trundler was elementary. Rin could perform full body transmutation by his second try and went on to transform another dozen times, just for practice.

Despite the trundler’s body granting an impressive 40 point boost to his stamina, the remaining attribute gains were lackluster, with the monster being only 5 class levels above Rin’s own. It possessed two abilities though, one of which was surprisingly advanced at grade E.

Inherited Abilities:

Charge: Grade F

Lope: Grade E

The Lope ability was a speedier version of the trundler’s default running skill, albeit one that consumed more stamina. Rin activated the ability repeatedly, loping several hundred yards up the road before returning out of breath and with a significant chunk of his stamina spent.

By the end of his impromptu training session, the sun had fallen behind the Steppe mountains at his back, plunging the road into shadow. When he attempted to change back into a human, something unexpected happened.

Secret ability unusable. You may not transmute while being observed.

He spun his trundler body around, desperately seeking who, or what observed him. Because of the trundler’s poor eyesight, the boost to his Perception attribute was effectively zero, leaving Rin’s weak level 6 Perception to pull the weight of observing his surroundings.

He soon despaired.

It’s wide open space out here. Someone could be watching me from miles away!

A foreign scent on the alpine breeze caught in the trundler’s nostrils. Rin spun around to face the road from Bastion. Two men approached from several hundred yards away, facing Rin as they strode up the nearest swell of the road.

He bolted for the nearby hill of Dead Man’s Barrow, plowing deep into a dense thicket of shrubs before lowering to the ground and stilling his panting breath.

My knapsack!

Rin’s belongings were dumped in the middle of the road, looking forlorn and altogether forgotten, including his most valuable possession: the dungeon map. He nearly darted back to get them but realized he was still a trundler and couldn’t transform into anything else to pick up his things.

I’ll just change into my human self and go greet them like a normal person. Maybe I can say I was … I dunno, relieving myself or something.

With a thought, he reverted to human form, covered himself in a duplicate of his clothes, and tensed his legs, ready to reveal himself.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

At the last moment, he hesitated. The two men were closer now, coming into clear view. What he saw made him shudder.

These men were dangerous. Identify agreed.

Markus “The Cutter” Shaw

Level 28 Assassin

Jaxon James

Level 29 Assassin

Each possessed a certain presence, although for entirely different reasons. The first was tall, with greasy, slicked-back hair and darting eyes, striding with the undeniable swagger of arrogance. He wore a fashionable white button-down shirt with bold triangular lapels that lay flat against each shoulder. Strapped diagonally across his chest was a leather baldric boasting an impressive arsenal of daggers and darts, aligned at the perfect height for his hands to make quick use of them.

The second assassin was squat and thick like a singular dense muscle squashed into a stump and made human. His face was pitted and scarred, and when he moved the effect was ponderous, as if his weighty momentum was so great it took considerable effort to alter its course. A warhammer with a head the size of an anvil peeked over his shoulder, its handle braced securely in the dented iron cuirass that armored the man’s torso.

As Rin studied them from a distance, he recognized they were a team, each with complementary builds that shored up each other’s weaknesses. The tall man focused on speed, the short, strength. He doubted their pairing was mere happenstance.

They’ve probably trained together as a team, too. A deadly duo. I wonder if they’re famous. Or infamous, I should say.

When the assassins spotted his abandoned travel sack, they picked up their pace, with the taller one pointing.

Rin transformed into a bat, knowing it granted the greatest boost to Perception. Huddling within the shrubs’ shadowy recesses, he strained his ears in their direction. Their voices were at the outermost edge of his range, but their words became clearer as they walked closer.

“—tellin’ ya, it’s his! Look at tha walkin’ staff. Itsa perfec’ match.”

The shorter man, Jaxon, arrived at Rin’s knapsack and emptied its contents onto the road while the other peered about, his head on a swivel.

“Why would he leave his bag in the middle of the road, though?” asked Markus. “Is he truly that stupid? And look at these tracks here. Looks like an entire herd of wild boar came through here recently.” Markus stroked his hand along one of the sharp divots Rin had made when practicing the Whirlwind ability. “Gods above, these are stick devil markings. Several, by my estimate. And big bastards, too. Just look at the radius! I’ve never seen so many markings in one place. What the hell happened here?”

Jaxon shrugged and nodded at one of Rin’s footprints. “No matta. ‘is tracks end there, plain as day. Monstas got ‘im, and there’s nuthin’ we can do abaht it.”

“But there’s no blood. You heard Lord Easton as well as I did.” Markus gave a rueful laugh, then leaned aside and spat a thick wad of phlegm at the ground. “The self-righteous noble arse. We get nothing if we return without the boy and only half if he’s dead.”

Jaxon ignored Rin’s sword and swatch book but pocketed the boy’s money pouch before rising to his feet. His boot shot out, kicking the leather sack across the road and spilling Rin’s spare clothes everywhere. “An I’m tellin’ you, dares no body ta be found! E’s bleedin’ monsta feed by nows. Never even ‘ad time ta draw ‘is blade.” As the man eyed Rin’s sword, he reconsidered taking it, swiping it into a storage ring with a mere gesture.

“Stupid kid was never supposed to leave Bastion in the first place. What was he doing out here?” A stiletto dagger appeared in Markus’ grasp as if from thin air. He spun it between the fingers of his right hand as he deliberated. Once the blade completed several revolutions, the man sighed. “Let’s go find what’s left of him.”

A buffet of wind rolled the coiled dungeon map across the road. Markus darted with shocking speed to pluck it from the ground. He let out a keen whistle as the parchment unfurled in his hands. “An elvish dungeon map, runes and all. This might be worth something. How’d our boy get his hands on this?”

“Tha’ bleedin’ tinker, no doubt.”

Markus handed the map to Jaxon and it disappeared into his storage ring. The two assassins resumed their course along the road, bickering like an old married couple. They acted like nothing extraordinary had occurred.

But Rin’s world was upside down.

That Lord Easton … he sent them for me?

The assassins passed beyond the range of Rin’s enhanced bat hearing. He continued to wait for several minutes, still as a mouse. Then he leaped into the sky and confirmed they were well and truly gone, making their way west in the same direction as the tailors.

Landing beside his trashed belongings, Rin reverted to his human form, wearing a long cloak mottled with the same colors and patterns as his surroundings. He swept up his things and stalked silently back to his hiding spot in the thicket of shrubs. He imagined the camouflaged cloak wrapping around the outside of his knapsack, walking staff and all. It formed a more flexible sack around his things that he could control with his wardrobe ability, complete with straps around his shoulders and waist. He transformed into trundler form, then tested the weight on his shoulders, adjusting the dimensions of his new backpack until it was a perfect fit for his monster body.

For a few precious seconds, Rin forced more and more mana into the Lope ability before finally unleashing it in a burst of speed.

The monster boy erupted from the thicket, fleeing up the steep rise of Dead Man’s Barrow without looking back. Whether it was from fear or wisdom, Rin couldn’t say, but he shot up the earthen mound as if his life depended on it. He figured it would be an excellent strategic location where he could see the assassins approaching from miles away.

As his trundler legs pumped, his bottled emotions came roaring back. His blood boiled at the memory of Lord Easton’s condescending glare.

It wasn’t enough that he lopped off my leg. It wasn’t enough that he forced me to take a Cursed class. Now he has assassins after me, too? And they stole my map!

The thought poured fresh fuel on his anger, nearly eclipsing his fear. The thought of the assassins in pursuit still hung over him as a cloud of existential dread, but the anger helped him to breathe. To focus.

I will get stronger. Then I won’t have to be afraid anymore. If Lord Easton comes calling, he’ll never know what hit him!

He crested the summit of Dead Man’s Barrow and the sudden intensity of wind blasting his face forced his murderous thoughts to take a back seat. The top of the mound was a hundred feet across, a broad plateau whose edge created a blind spot in every direction. He could spot enemies easily from a distance, but once they arrived at the base of the hill, they’d be out of sight unless he walked to its edge and deliberately peered over.

At least there was plenty of cover, with the same coarse shrubs carpeting the hilltop, interspersed by springy beds of purple heather that vibrated excitedly in the wind. Without warning, a rumble of thunder announced an imminent storm, and Rin earnestly searched for shelter.

In the center of the hilltop was a prominent rock formation, with its surface so weather-beaten that no heather grew on its bald face. The formation was capped with a flat wedge of granite hanging over a dark opening, and Rin hurried into its depths with the pitter-patter of rain chasing at his back. Inside was a shadowy stone hollow, no larger than five feet square, with natural walls on all sides and a floor of sandy grit.

The boy transformed into human form, put his back against the wall, and slumped to the ground, exhausted. His stamina was spent, his nerves raw, and his dungeon map lost. Surprisingly, he was unconcerned with the loss of his sword. Few of his Available Creatures could wield it, and he’d already experimented using his clothes as weapons, which he could conjure no matter what form his body took. The stolen money pouch didn’t even enter his mind.

Still, losing anything was a significant setback, having so little to lose in the first place. Worst of all, the dread of two assassins in pursuit gnawed at his stomach.

The wind outside picked up, vacillating between a howl and a haunting moan as it threaded through shrubs on the exposed hillside.

Maybe that’s why they say this mound is haunted.

Rin was undeterred, having encountered these fast-forming summer storms countless times before. A shred of jerky found its way to his mouth. He sat there, spent, contemplating his options and his recent choices. When his foot absently scraped across the gritty ground, it exposed an unusually smooth slab of slate that caught his attention.

He dusted off the stone with his hand and was shocked to find it was a perfect square, two feet wide and long, cut to size and placed in a chiseled insetting flush with the ground. Most alarming of all was a foreboding symbol etched in its very center. At first, Rin couldn’t make heads or tails of the symbol; its definition eroded into little more than a swirling depression in the stone. Then, he repositioned himself to get a better look in the weak light. When a flash of lightning lit up the hollow, it became clear.

A skull. The universal symbol for danger.

Rin sat there, stunned, staring at the square slab and allowing the storm’s racket to dull his senses.

He knew not to tamper with the thing. The warning was there for a reason. But like a child told not to touch wet paint, he couldn’t stop himself.

When he could stand it no longer, he wedged his walking stick beneath one edge of the stone plate and carefully applied his weight. After a brief moment of resistance, the stone lifted free, exposing a compartment carved directly into the ground. The stone box possessed a single artifact that twinkled with magic.

A dungeon flower.