“Sanity level?” I repeat. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You have to do it,” Hans says. His expression is weary and pitying. “Whatever she’s telling you, if you don’t, it’ll only get worse.”

“What will get worse?” But even as I ask, I can feel a distant buzzing in the back of my head. An uncomfortable static tingling in my fingers.

[Sanity Level: 98%. Role Requirement: Protect the Prince.]

“I don’t even know who that is!” I cry.

But there’s that arrow in the corner of my vision. I turn my head, and it swivels around with me. It’s pointing toward a cluster of rock formations not far off.

I groan. “You have to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry, man,” he says. “But it’ll get bad if you don’t do it. With that monster thing—I was down to thirty percent. I couldn’t even think anymore. It only stopped when you killed it.”

“This is crazy,” I say. “I don’t have to do what she says!”

The mental static is getting louder, though. An uncomfortable pressure is encroaching on my mind.

[Sanity Level: 97%]

“What does she want you to do?” Hans asks.

I huff. “I’m supposed to protect some prince or something.”

“Tough break.” Hans grimaces. “How are you supposed to even find him? That’s almost worse than my ‘tame a beast’ Requirement.”

“Well.” I hesitate, tipping my head and watching the arrow move. “There is this pointer thing. I think it’s showing me where he is.”

“Oh.” Hans raises his eyebrows. “Then that makes it kind of easy, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not about it being easy,” I growl. “It’s about free will! I shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Shouldn’t,” Hans agrees. “But I don’t think either of us are really being given a choice. And at least yours seems achievable.”

[Sanity Level: 96%]

“This is stupid,” I growl, running my hands through my short shock of hair. The buzzing in my head is getting worse.

“You can say that all you want, but that’s not going to make Echo go away,” Hans says.

I glare down at him, as if that makes anything he said less true.

[Sanity Level: 95%]

“God dammit!” I spin on my heels and angrily begin stalking in the direction the arrow is indicating. This is not what I need right now. What if this dumb, mandatory quest is taking me away from my brother? It’s been one thing after another since I ended up in this world. When will I catch a freaking break?

“Stay there,” I call back to a very worried looking Hans, still sitting at the edge of the crater. Not like he can go anywhere with that injury anyway. “And pull those spines out while you wait! It will start to heal. I’ll be back whenever I’m done with… whatever this is.”

“Be careful,” he shouts.

I wave an acknowledging hand over my shoulder and angrily strike out into the desert. Now. Where is this stupid prince and why does he need protecting?

As I stomp my way over the sand, my Sanity Level ticks down another percent, and I walk a little faster. Then, I break into a jog. I can’t let myself end up like Hans, useless and indefensible. Especially if “protecting” this prince means another fight. Fear tinges my anger. How far away is this guy? What if my sanity doesn’t last that long?

And what happens when it hits zero?

I wish those were my only worries. As I hurry over the sand, I come upon a body, and I can tell it’s fresh from its smell. Not a corpse kind of smell—a tempting, rare steak kind of smell which has my stomach grumbling. I’m disgusted by the instinct, even as I really, desperately want to sate this hunger. It’s almost as uncomfortable as this mind static the Sanity metric is causing. No, actually, I think the Sanity stat is making it worse.

I struggle to keep my eyes away as I pass the body, swallowing as my mouth starts to water. It was that damn shield, I bet. Took too much of my blood, and now I’m the one left desperate for a top-off.

[Sanity Level: 92%]

I let loose a string of swears and push myself faster. The one good thing about this body is that I seem to have a lot more stamina. Unfortunately, I’m probably going to need it.

Over the next couple minutes, my sanity dips below 90%. The rate of decline slows the faster I move, but I can never get it to quite stop. The mental pressure is almost a physical sensation now, buzzing beneath my skin and threatening to fog my mind. The thirst is worse, too. God, I’m so thirsty. But I can’t think about that now. The Role Requirement arrow has started wiggling a little, meaning I must be getting closer—or maybe the prince is on the move. I really hope it’s the former. At this rate, I maybe have twenty minutes before I’m reduced to a mindless babbling child. What kind of magic does this to people?!

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

I’m so laser focused on following the arrow that I don’t notice the shadow until it’s almost on top of me.

They move from behind a nearby boulder and dart my way. Moonlight catches on a blade, and without that flicker of movement, I might have been toast. I try to skid to a halt but even with faster reflexes I can’t stop on a dime. Still, it’s enough to make the slash cut through air instead of my gut, and by the time they’re pivoting around and coming in for a second attack, I’m actually registering what’s happening.

That person just tried to kill me!

I dodge to the side and sweep my foot through theirs as they lunge for me, and they stumble, dropping to a knee. I come down on top of them, stomping my boot on their knife-hand with all my might.

[4 points of Bludgeoning damage dealt.]

They let out a cry, scrambling away from me on their hands and knees. I really wish I had remembered to pick up that rusty old sword back in the cactus crater, but I’ll just have to make do without. In fact…

“Echo, can I have that shield back now?” I ask.

“What?” the person says, drawing another knife from their belt.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” I say, only realizing how crazy that must sound after the words have left my mouth.

Now that I have half a second to take them in, I can tell they’re also a dhampyr. But unlike Hans and I, this one is dressed all in tan, loose clothes that match the desert’s color; no armor or insignias, but the cloth is wrapped around their face like a mask.

[Affirmative,] Echo says. [Remove Crimson Aegis from inventory?]

“Oh yeah,” I say. “Please.”

The shield abruptly blinks into existence right in front of me, causing my attacker to retreat another couple of startled steps.

The Crimson Aegis emits a spike of surprise as it takes in its new surroundings. What’s going on? How did it get here? What was that dark place it had just been in?

It quickly lashes its magic back around my arm again, as if afraid I’d leave it behind. And honestly, I might; my feelings on this shield are still undetermined.

Its surprise shifts to indignation. It hat been in the middle of explaining something, and I interrupted it! How disrespectful. Now, where had it been? Oh, right.

—Worlds! Bane of the gods! It is so powerful, it once—

“Can we not do this now?” I say. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

The shield finally notices the person before us, who warily raises their knife.

Who is this, the shield wonders. An enemy? We should defeat them! Then it can drink some of their blood. It really would like more blood!

Well, that didn’t take long. “Hey,” I say, calling around the shield. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m in a bit of a hurry. Now, this shield would love to duke it out, but I’d rather not fight if I can help it. Like I said; a bit of a time crunch.”

“Who are you?” the stranger demands, not moving from their defensive stance. “How did you find us?”

“I didn’t find anything!” I object. “I’m just, uh, headed in this direction.” Yeah, super convincing. “Looking for someone. Now will you let me go?”

[Sanity Level: 87%]

I wince.

The stranger’s eyes narrow. “Looking for who? Where are you headed?”

Ugh, I don’t have time for this. I hoist the shield out of the sand and take a careful step to the side. “A prince. It doesn’t matter. Look, I’m just going to head this way, and forget that you just attacked me, and then we can both just—”

“Traitor!” the person cries, their arm a flicker of motion.

I duck and the knife pings off the shield. The Aegis swells with indignation. Attacked us? How dare they. Pathetic! We will destroy them!

I sigh. I guess we’re actually doing this.

I activate Endure, and red magic washes over the shield’s surface. Then I run straight at my attacker.

To their merit, they don’t just stand there and take it. Probably most people would take one look at a glowing, red, demon-styled, person-sized shield and try to get right the fuck out of its way. But they’d already been running in my direction, and only have a moment to pivot and try to dodge.

I run over them like a bowling ball. I don’t even feel it. The magic ripples on the backside of the shield where their body impacts, and then they’re flung to the side like a ragdoll. They pinwheel through the air, hit the sand face-first, and don’t get up.

[35 points of Bludgeoning damage dealt.]

Well that was easy. I turn off Endure; the whole fight lasted all of seven seconds and cost me one point of mana. I grin. Sweet.

[Sanity Level: 86%]

Less sweet.

Victory! the shield declares in my mind. They were a fool to think they could stand against us. Nothing can defeat the Crimson Aegis. Now, all I have to do is let it consume their blood.

“Echo, add the Aegis back to my inventory,” I say.

No, wait! Don’t do that, not ag—

[Crimson Aegis added to inventory.]

I’m starting to think I can make this relationship work.

I take a quick moment to check my unconscious attacker, despite the ever-growing discomfort in my mind. Even as I’m digging through their clothes, wondering who the heck this person was, Echo pipes up to add her own commentary.

[Check: Zetya, level 21 dhampyr shadow rogue. Member of the Umbral Blades, a radical organization from the Moonfall Dynasty.]

Neat, but doesn’t really tell me much of anything useful. I finish digging through their clothes, but besides the blades, I don’t find anything on them. Nothing that will help me, at any rate. I grab the two knives, and then keep running.

The Role Requirement arrow takes me into the sandstone formations. The pillars and walls of rock rise up in a labyrinth around me; I hope I’ll be able to find my way out again. The effects of my rapidly depleting Sanity now tingle through my whole body, like ants beneath my skin and sand shifting through my bones. I’m getting antsy. Thirsty. I desperately need to find that prince. It’s getting hard to focus on anything else.

[Sanity Level: 84%]

The sand around this area is stirred up, like people have come through here; then again, an entire battle is taking place not far off, so that doesn’t tell me if the footprints are relevant to my task. The arrow swivels more now when I cut around rock formations. I think that means he’s close.

A minute later, my hope is confirmed as faint voices drift between the rocks. I briefly slow down, trying to step more softly, but then my Sanity Level drops another point—82% now—and I start hurrying again. What do you think the chances are that these guys are more interested in talking than Zetya back there?

At least I’ve got the advantage of stealth. I’m not sure what I’ll do, exactly, but hopefully how I can “Protect the Prince” will become visibly apparent once I scope out the scene. The voices grow louder—and my Sanity Level drops another point—as I sneak around a rocky outcrop.

“...back by now. Something’s wrong,” a feminine voice says.

“It doesn’t matter,” a masculine voice responds. “Getting him to Moonfall territory is our top priority. They can catch up with us later.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen,” the first voice grumbles.

“This is bigger than any one of us,” a third voice says. I slowly edge my head around the corner, trying to get a look at the scene. “Sacrifices will have to be made. This is war. But his capture might at least blow the dunes in our favor.”

There’s a group of four people, all dressed like Zetya in light desert-colored clothes, and armed with small weapons. Two are dhampyr, I think, but two more look human. Even as I scan them, Echo pipes up with a brief description.

[Members of the Umbral Blades.]

Looks like I found Zetya’s buddies, then. The group is arrayed around a captive, whose wrists are tied and mouth is bound. I’ve never seen the man before in my life, but I instantly know who he is: my arrow is pointing right at him.

[Prince identified,] Echo helpfully adds.