Hours later, Rin awoke in darkness with a wet sensation seeping into his shirt.
“You’re awake!” said Trixie, her ethereal body illuminating their surroundings. If her substantial glow was any indication, she’d been busy consuming more souls. Her level was now 26.
“Ugh, I feel like I’ve been hit by a boar. What happened?”
“You’ve been out for two days. The short assassin whacked you with a special hammer that has a magical ability. It was supposed to knock you out for a specific amount of time. They argued about it all the way back.” She rolled her eyes. “The tall one was angry because the short one set the time limit for too long. We arrived here yesterday, and they dumped you in this cell with no food, water, or anything. I guess they knew when you would wake up, so they didn’t bother.”
As if to emphasize the point, Rin’s stomach gurgled. “Oof, I’m hungry. Thirsty, too.”
“Care for a slime?” Trixie grinned at him with the ghostly body of a cuboid-shaped monster in her hands. It disappeared into mist while he watched. “Its body is still over there in the corner.”
The boy grimaced. “Gross. How can you possibly eat stuff like that?”
She gave an indifferent shrug. “It makes a huge difference when you don’t have to put it in your mouth. It all absorbs just the same.”
Rin shook his head, then activated Partial Transmutation, changing his eyes and ears into those of the quad bat to better see his surroundings. The stone walls were cold and unyielding, glistening with an ever-present moisture that stank of rotting hay and human feces. The room’s only exit was a thick door of solid oak reinforced by iron bands.
Looking down, he took stock of his body, finding everything in order except that his right side was soaked by the damp floor where he’d been lying. The only remaining possession the assassins hadn’t snatched was Craven’s ring, still resting serenely on his finger like an old friend. His Monster Pack and swatch book were nowhere to be seen. A quick check of his MP told him the pack was still in existence, but he had no idea where it was currently located. He couldn’t fathom the assassins having any use for it. It was likely still back at the summit of Dead Man’s Barrow, where he’d been captured.
At least my conjured clothes didn’t disappear. That would’ve been embarrassing.
He decided not to dismiss the Monster Pack for now, as it could be the only thing protecting his swatch book from the elements, wherever it was. The portion of mana it reserved from his total pool was so small it barely mattered anyway. More important to his current predicament was his soaked side, which was easily solved by dismissing his shirt and reconjuring it anew.
Next, he imagined his sleeve warping into the shape of a cup made from the Rainmaker’s Friend material. After pumping mana into the fabric, he chugged freely of its fresh water.
Rising shakily to his feet, he ambled to the door and studied a series of runes along its surface. According to his parents’ teachings, the door employed a weak-grade magical ward that would repel low-level magical attacks, but nothing more. His captors had clearly underestimated his level 6 status.
Time to get physical.
Rin turned to his ghost companion. “Let’s get out of here. Shall we?”
It took a single slam from the level 35 Dirt Stomper to wreck the door from its hinges. Rin waited to see if anyone would investigate the noise. No one came, so he turned human and stalked forward with Trixie hovering by his side. Outside his cell was a long underground corridor with walls of natural stone. It reminded him of the beginner dungeon.
“How deep underground are we?” he asked.
“Oh, not very deep at all. We’re practically at the surface.”
He absently remembered who he was talking to. “Let me rephrase. How many flights of stairs are there to the surface?”
“Flights? Maybe a dozen or so.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
A dozen flights? That’s … a lot.
“Are we truly in Strathburn?”
“That’s what they called it. Oh, and a posh-looking man visited you. He came up as Lord Easton when I used Identify, and he was in a terrible mood. Said you were very late, whatever that means.”
Great.
“That means it’s definitely time to leave. Try to keep up.”
Rin changed into the level 22 Bog Squirrel and bolted along the underground corridor past dozens of cells. For a fleeting moment, he entertained the idea of freeing other prisoners, but he didn’t know anything about them. He wouldn’t be able to trust them, plus their presence alone would prevent him from transmuting again.
His squirrel body jetted up several flights of stairs and came upon a room with three guards playing cards at a table. He didn’t slow for a moment, instead rocketing up to traverse the room’s ceiling and down the other side, whipping the soldiers’ hair with the breeze created by his wake.
More stairs. Another room. More guards, some of them shouting as he flew over tables and tipped over chairs. During the chaos, he snatched up a bread roll with his teeth before blazing away. More stairs. A final locked gate with a guard standing sentinel. He squeezed through the gate’s bars and was outside in the glorious sunshine, running up the wall of the building and bursting through boughs of ivy.
Rin rested on the roof, four stories up, tucking into the bread with his dainty squirrel fingers and filling his meager stomach quickly. He had to change into human form to finish it. Fully clothed, of course.
He was perched on the tallest building for miles around. Houses and warehouses sprawled in every direction, divided into sections by streets and alleyways. There were more buildings than he could ever imagine, the city being several times the size of Bastion. The city’s architecture was also different, with wood structures more prevalent than the stone exteriors he was used to.
The sun was setting, painting the clouds with brilliant swaths of pink and orange, while the humid haze over the city turned a more sickly yellow. From Rin’s vantage point, he could see where the city’s edge abutted the swamplands, explaining the lingering smell of dead fish tainting the air. He much preferred the fresh mountain breeze he’d grown up with, no matter how unforgiving it could be in the winter.
Here, the mountains were still present, looming from a distance of a dozen miles or so. Yet their presence was weaker and diminished. There was certainly no fresh mountain breeze to speak of.
He looked down, studying his whereabouts in the middle of the mass of people.
This must be a government building. A city hall or a type of garrison.
The momentary commotion of his exit below had subsided. After all, the guards had witnessed nothing more than a lost squirrel finding its way to the surface. It made him proud of his escape. It had been a trivial matter to evade the army of guards, a testament to the power of his main ability. He hadn’t incurred a single scratch or raised suspicion. Yet his previous confrontation with the two assassins still bothered him.
I should have been able to take them down. What went wrong?
His Transmutation ability was heavily overpowered, but it had a glaring weakness. If the ability failed to activate, especially when fighting against people, he was in deep trouble. His fledgling wardrobe ability couldn’t make up the difference. Human opponents were much more dangerous than the thoughtless monsters he was used to. For one, they could use items, a thought he’d never considered before.
“What now?” asked Trixie, interrupting his thoughts as she appeared beside him.
Rin huffed. “I want my map back. And the gold. And the swatch book.”
Trixie laughed aloud, either from disbelief or excitement; Rin wasn’t sure which. When she spoke, it was with a mischievous grin curled on her lips. “I might be able to help with that.” She seemed exceedingly pleased with herself.
“Well?”
“I was bored watching you sleep all day, so I explored. It didn’t take me long to find the assassin’s guild, and now I know precisely where those two idiots are staying.” She raised her chin, beaming. “Impressed?”
“Huh.” Rin scratched his cheek as he pondered.
“So I’ll ask again. What now?”
“I’m not sure—ow! That hurt!” Rin slapped his neck, squashing a mosquito flat.
He stared at the bug splayed on his palm. Mosquitos were rare in the mountains. The ones they had certainly didn’t look like this. The thing was huge, with a proboscis as long as his thumbnail.
Trixie leaned over, peering at it. “While I followed the assassins, I eavesdropped on a few conversations. The insects here are a hot topic. Something to do with the swamps nearby.” She crossed her ankles and lazed back with her hands behind her head. “I don’t see what the fuss is about. They don’t bother me at all.”
Her goading didn’t affect Rin because he was barely paying attention. His gaze was still fixed on his palm.
Level 1 Swamp Mosquito (Stealth Type)
“I have an idea. It might be a little crazy.”