To be the smart relatable anti-hero that was never caught off-guard was always Alan’s idea of who he wanted to be if he was in a world of superheroes. To him, the human mind was a simple machine driven by self-interest and greed, with the rare exceptions of some people who were sadly too good for the world. Everyone eventually betrayed everyone, and all help was conditional. He was a cynic and an asshole.

Therapy had certainly helped him realize that most of his trauma and ways stemmed from his parents and siblings, and not everyone was an asshole.

He had learned to judge by actions, not by words or appearance. For example, if an alien closely resembled a human in some way, that didn’t automatically mean they would be a vile piece of deceiving shit.

Thankfully, Ig-Thun had once again shown more grace and wisdom than one would expect from an alien four-eyed half of a person who could squeeze a human head with one hand until it popped like a grape.

“Done wallowing in self-pity, skinny legs?” the demon sassed. It had become even harder to listen to considering everything.

“Fuck off.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you believe that freak? Look at him! He will use you and throw you away, and me for that matter. How about finding some speck of sense in that thick skull of yours and trying to ensure our survival?”

Alan sighed. To say he was not worried and confused would be a lie. “We will be fine, as long as the things that Ig is expecting are weak enough.”

“For fuck’s sake, man. You are killing us. KILL-“

The sound of iron leaving deep grooves into stone shut Xil’Garoth up. Alan turned around from polishing his new dagger and greeted Ig-Thun, throwing an annoyed glance toward the demon cube that sat next to him.

“Hey, Ig. What’s up?”

Ig-Thun smiled and threw a bunch of stuff on the ground in front of Alan. He recognized some of the things from the big bundle the man had brought in earlier. The weapons were polished, and the cloth was clean.

“This for me?” Alan asked.

“Yes, your pinkskin is soft. Your limbs skinny. Need good armor, good weapons.” He turned and waved with one giant hand, making one of the homunculi approach and give Alan the magical monocle that showed him the names of things.

“Why not use them yourself?”

“I prefer hammer. And I have to chant. Spent years learning the chant, yes, yes.” Ig-Thun replied and left without another word. As soon as that happened Xil was back and Alan thought about severing the connection for a moment.

“Huh. He is giving us the tools for his own downfall. Dumb freak.”

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“No. I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to listen to me! Have I ever let you down?!”

“YES, AND WE JUST MET.”

“Hey, come on, that’s hurtful. I know you are stupid but you shouldn’t treat your friends like this. You promised we would do it my way.”

Alan felt his blood race faster. “We are most certainly not friends and I have not promised… wait, are you gaslighting me?”

“I am not lighting any gasses, what the fuck are you on about. All I am saying is, you should-”

[Mind Jab] slipped out without any difficulties and made the demon scream in annoyance.

“Shut up. Now. I need to focus.” Alan hissed.

“Fuck you,” Xil replied, but nevertheless became silent. “And just for the record, you have now decided to assist the freak in an unknown ritual just because he gave you a potion. Does THAT sound smart?”

“Look, all I know is Ig helped me. I need to kill stuff to level and get stronger and not die, and if the ritual goes as he is saying, I will get to do just that. Understand? Now please, shut up, or I will start leveling with you.”

Alan picked up the monocle and arranged the items in a row in front of him. There were even pants and a shirt from thick dark material that somehow looked both soft and sturdy. He didn’t want to know where Ig-Thun had gotten them from, but they were certainly not from Earth, even if they were human-shaped.

He went for the clothes first, as his pants were pretty fucked, torn to shreds by the rats he had fought.

Reinforced Pants

Reinforced Shirt

Next came the few pieces of leather armor.

Simple Leather Torso

Simple Leather Bracers

Simple Leather Boots

Nothing interesting there. Alan had hoped for some magical stuff that would finally help him break the game. The weapons were ordinary too, including a simple sword, a bow, a short spear, and a pair of daggers. He took the sword, the armor, and clothes and exchanged the crude kobold daggers for the better ones that were in the pile.

Finally, he decided to inspect the dagger with the feline skull pommel he had stolen.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Ritual Dagger [True Edge]

Now that was interesting. Was [True Edge] an ability, an enchantment? If so, what did it do and why did Ig-Thun not say anything about it?

Alan tried channeling mana into the dagger. His skills did that on their own, but an item was apparently different. It took a few tries but he managed to do it and felt light-headed as an enormous amount of energy left his body and rushed into the strange dagger. The hollow eyes of the feline skull started glowing with a soft blue light. Other than that, nothing happened. He tried to cut a piece of cloth and managed to do it, but not better than any old kitchen knife would. Another mystery to add to the long list of bullshit he had to deal with.

A minute later the feline eyes stopped glowing and Alan sheathed the dagger, leaving it with his other weapons. There were more important things to do before he had to fight for his life again.

His clothes were barely rags at this point and he didn’t know where his body began and where the tunic ended, as everything was stuck together by dried blood and rat remains, and even some of his own scabbed wounds.

He bunched up all the clean clothes and carrying them approached Ig-Thun, who was examining the work on the bronze dais.

“Hey, Ig, sorry to bother you, is there anywhere I could wash up? You know? A stream or something?”

Ig-Thun’s four eyes rose with a snap and he let out some clicking sounds very similar to the ones he used when he commanded the homunculi.

“They lead you. It’s good to be clean. You smell.” Ig-Thun said with a serious face, then returned to examining the lines, removing an invisible speck of dust from one of them.

Alan decided to leave the dagger for later as the two familiar homunculi approached and chattered at him. One of them left a candlestone at his feet.

They are kind of cute come to think of it.

One of them pulled at his leg, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

Twenty minutes later Alan was fighting against the cold stream of water that slowly threatened to freeze his soul. Being clean was more important than being warm though, so he forced through hoping the dried filth would come off before he got hypothermia.

They had marched down one of the tunnels that had led them on a descending spiral to another small cave. A small stream cut through the cave and disappeared into a dark hole in the rock wall. There were other tunnels that led out of the cave and Alan was thankful he had guides. He didn’t want to learn what lived in this place considering the residents he had met. Well, Ig-Thun was nice.

It was cold and it took a lot of effort. He used his old clothes and a bunch of cloth he had brought from the hall to scrub himself as clean as possible.

It also felt amazing once he got out of the stream, dried himself, and put on the ‘fresh’ clothes. Donning the leather armor pieces was the most challenging task as he had no idea what he was doing, but after some struggle and what he assumed was chattering laughter from the two homunculi he did it. The clothes were big and baggy on him and he felt a pleasant breeze each step he took. He had to stuff his boots with some scraps to make them more comfortable and fit, but the result was satisfactory.

The trek back took a bit longer as the steep incline made him wheeze, reminding him of his poor stamina. Ashlyn would probably eat the distance in a quarter of the time he needed. He wondered how she was doing, how the rest of them were doing. There was less than a day left on the quest. Time had really slipped by.

QUEST

Reach level 25 and pick a class before the tutorial period is over.

Time Left: 21 hours 14 minutes

Reward: Enchanted item

He was probably going to be dead by then. Hopefully, Ig-Thun knew what he was doing and whatever he was contacting would be as friendly and well-meaning as the man himself.

Alan took his weapons out of his corner, using a long leather strap as a belt. After some consideration, he took one of the new daggers, the sword, the feline dagger, and his spear. This was plenty, and there was no need to over-encumber himself when he would probably have to run into the darkness. He also took a few candlestones and put them into his pack, which he left at the entrance of the tunnel he had first come from. The field healing liquid vials were also there and he took it and tucked it into his belt. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to use it.

Vikings got high before a battle, didn’t they? Or am I thinking of my uncle? Prison really changed him.

Alan walked around inspecting the various shelves of dusty jars and vials, garbage, pieces of unknown tools, and finally, books. Most were heavy, leather-bound tomes with thick pages. All sorts of strange markings covered them. Tentatively he picked one of the ones that looked more preserved and opened it, expecting his trait to kick in and help him decipher the contents. Unfortunately, he was met with a wall of strange letters and symbols that were more alien than anything he had ever seen on Earth.

It was a pity. There were only about a dozen books here, but the amount of otherworldly information they most likely contained made him drool. The biggest, strangest, and most interesting book was currently next to Ig-Thun, who was consulting it every step of his inspection.

With disappointment, Alan continued his inspection of the place. He hadn’t noticed before but the bare walls seemed to reflect the shimmering candle stone lights at places. Tiny cracks, or more like just spots where the dirt had fallen off, revealed something metallic. There were no signs of corrosion, although the metal was oddly coarse.

As he neared the rat alcove Xil’s voice entered his mind, “If you are not going to try and kill him, at least take me and run.”

“You’re a demon Xil, not a pussy.”

“You are the stupidest, most selfish, most arrogant creature I have had the misfortune to meet. And I was born in a realm where such qualities are praised!”

“I’m glad you understand I am special.” Alan chuckled, “While we are at it, do you happen to know what [True Edge] is?”

“Yes. But I won’t tell you.”

Pity. With nothing else to do, Alan sat on the edge of the hall and observed Ig-Thun’s work. He briefly considered trying to work on [Mind Jab] again, but incapacitating himself right before a supposed fight didn’t sound like a good time.

Alan wondered why he was doing all this. He could try refusing, Ig-Thun didn’t seem like the type to rip his head off just for that. It would be ungrateful, considering all the help the man had given him, but was it okay to save someone’s life only to ask them to risk it for you? There was so much he hadn’t thought about in his cozy office job. He had been busy raging against society, being annoyed by loud children, talkative coworkers, and reality shows. Compared to being eaten by a nightmarish horror snake-human-slug hybrid those things seemed so small and meaningless. Except maybe the reality shows, they had to go… and there were some REALLY loud children out there.

Life was supposed to be simple now. He got a status menu and got a straight path forward. Kill stuff to level. Kill more stuff to level more. Instead, he was busy having moral dilemmas, making wrong choices, and worrying if his only friend in this place was dead or alive, and how she took his disappearance.

He thought about Florence. They had been another object of annoyance in the workplace. Maybe Florence not so much, as the girl was always kind and ready to help and seemingly an expert at avoiding small talk, a detail Alan had missed for a long time. Now she was scarier than some of the monstrous beasts in the forest with her overpowered skillset and lack of remorse. And she had done what he had asked of her, and he didn’t know how to feel about that. What was wrong with him?

It would be good if the group had stuck together. He wished them the best. Emerson especially had surprised him. The man had grown more shut in as time had passed, he spoke less and was happy helping around and staying safe.

He hoped all of them were alright. Mostly those he was close with, including Salla. The nice lady would probably have a tough time adapting to the constant danger and changes. And something was changing, Alan did not know what the end of the tutorial signified, but it wouldn’t be good.

A grating noise assaulted his ears and Alan looked up, startled. Ig-Thun was laughing, his long arms spread to the sides in triumph. The horde or homunculi had silently gathered in a circle all around the hall, chattering along.

“It is done!” Ig-Thun half yelled, “It is finally done! So long… so long. Ha-ha-ha!”

Alan stood up and clutched his spear tight. A ball of nerves was forming in his stomach but there was something else there too – the still foreign, but not unfamiliar excitement he had felt fighting for his life and slaying his enemies.

“What now?” he asked.

Ig-Thun turned to him with his wide menacing smile, “Now,” he said, “Now, we sacrifice.”

Alan watched Ig-Thun drag himself away, and took a deep breath, “Oh, goody.”

The demon didn’t shy away this time, afraid to miss his chance to join in, “Fucking told you. Have fun dying you little shit.”