The smell of toast lingered over the breakfast table, mingling with the rich aroma of the elixir of life—coffee. Mahya sat across from me, furiously scribbling on a scrap of paper. She let out an irritated huff every few minutes that made Rue’s ears flick.

“Mahya,” I ventured between bites of eggs, “Al and I are heading to clear out the caterpillar area before we look for dungeons. Want to join?”

She didn’t look up, just waved a hand dismissively. “Good idea. You two go.” Her voice was clipped, and her pen scratched more aggressively against the paper.

“Things not going well with the engines?” Al asked, his tone casual but laced with amusement.

Mahya’s head snapped up, her sharp glare enough to silence him. “No, they’re not.” She pushed back her chair abruptly, the screech of wood against the floor grating. “Some of us have work to do.” With that, she swept out of the room, muttering something about “density fluctuations” under her breath.

Rue lifted his head and gave me a long look. “Mahya angry. John fix?”

I chuckled, reaching down to scratch his ear. “Not this time, buddy.”

Al set down his mug, smirking. “Well, she’s in a mood. Let us hope the rainbow monstrosities brighten the day.”

“What about you? Coming with us?” I asked Rue.

Rue yawned dramatically, his tail thumping once. “No. Rue watch TV. Rue come for dungeon.” He promptly dropped his head back onto his paws, signaling the end of the conversation.

We arrived at the warehouse area by mid-morning, the air thick with humidity and tinged with the faint tang of something acrid. In the distance, the caterpillars wriggled sluggishly, their rainbow-striped bodies giving them an oddly festive appearance.

The one I’d used to lure out the spiders had been relatively small—about a meter long. That’s why I picked it. No point in lifting anything heavier with telekinesis. The others were much larger, some stretching up to two meters and as thick as forty or fifty centimeters.

“They look harmless,” Al said, his tone cautious as he readied his shield. “But from my experience with monsters, that’s rarely the case. We should proceed carefully.”

I shrugged, stepping closer. “Let’s find out what they can do.”

The moment the words left my mouth, the nearest caterpillar reared slightly, the red stripe on its body glowing ominously. A fireball erupted from it, hurtling straight toward us. My Protective Shield flared to life, catching the flames and dispersing them harmlessly.

Al let out a low whistle, clearly impressed.

Before I could respond, the orange stripe lit up next. A molten glob of lava arced toward us, sizzling as it hit the dirt and left a bubbling puddle. Al sidestepped effortlessly, shooting me a sideways glance. “You sure you want to take all the hits on your shield?”

“Just gathering data,” I said, reinforcing the shield as the yellow stripe glowed.

A crackling bolt of lightning shot out, slamming into my shield with a force that reverberated like a bass drum. The impact left me slightly disoriented, but the shield held. Al, meanwhile, danced nimbly out of range.

The caterpillar’s green stripe activated next, sending a glowing dart directly at me. It passed my shield like it wasn’t even there, slamming into my shoulder. A sharp, burning sensation spread down my arm.

“Damn it!” I hissed, stumbling back and clutching the wound. Gritting my teeth, I quickly cast Neutralize Poison and Healing Touch. The burning subsided, leaving me more annoyed than anything.

Al shook his head, his tone light and amused. “And that, my friend, is why I do not stand still.”

I scowled, keeping a wary eye on the caterpillar. The blue stripe lit up next, firing an icicle that shattered harmlessly against my shield in a spray of frost. Then the indigo stripe flared, launching a shadowy lance that passed through the shield. It grazed my side, leaving behind a deep, unsettling chill—not exactly cold, but something I couldn’t quite categorize. The strange sensation made me stumble momentarily, but I kept my footing.

Finally, the violet stripe pulsed, releasing a cascade of small, glowing projectiles that scattered chaotically. Most missed, but one clipped my leg, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my leg.

I straightened, taking a steadying breath. When I built the shield, I thought I was clever—covering the basic elements, darkness, and death. But these colorful buggers had more tricks up their sleeves.

“Son of a bitch,” I said, casting Healing Touch to fix the damage to my leg.

Al smirked as he dodged another lava ball with ease. “I suggest dodging next time.”

I shot into the air, narrowly dodging another fireball, followed by a molten glob of lava. The caterpillar tracked me with unnerving precision, its yellow stripe glowing ominously. I retaliated with a lightning bolt, but the creature absorbed the strike effortlessly, the yellow stripe glowing even brighter.

Before I could react, the caterpillar fired the lightning back at me, the crackling energy now doubled in intensity. I twisted mid-air, narrowly dodging the brunt of the attack, though the edges licked at my arm with a sharp sting. The current fizzled through me harmlessly, thanks to my affinity, but the tingling annoyance lingered as I steadied myself in the air.

Below, Al tilted his head with a smirk. “Shall we keep testing, or are you ready to quit while you are behind?”

I dropped lower, hovering above the ground, and scowled at him. “I didn’t see you do anything,” I shot back, irritated.

He casually brushed some dirt off his sleeve, his smirk widening. “I do not need to. I gathered all the data I needed.”

I folded my arms and glared. “And what exactly did you gather?”

Al gestured lazily toward the caterpillar, who was charging another attack. “That magic won’t work. They absorb it. We need to use guns or crossbows.”

I let out a long, resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. Damn it, he was right. My lightning attack had only fueled the bugger, making its counterstrike stronger. “Fine,” I muttered. “Guns it is.”

Al gave a mock bow, his tone as smug as the grin on his face. “Glad we are on the same page.”

Before I could respond, the caterpillar’s blue stripe flared, and a volley of sharp icicles shot toward us, glinting in the sunlight. The icy projectiles slammed into the ground where I’d just been, splintering into a spray of jagged shards.

Al ducked and rolled, coming up smoothly with his shield raised. He dusted off his sleeve as if nothing had happened. “And here I thought we were done testing.”

I used the blue crossbow I got from the dungeon with the traps while Al chose a rifle.

“Go for the head?” Al asked, narrowing his eyes at the target.

“Seems logical,” I replied, releasing the first bolt. It struck just below the head, embedding itself deep, but the caterpillar only twitched and let out an angry hiss. The blue stripe on its body flared, and an icicle shot toward us. We both ducked, narrowly avoiding the sharp projectile.

“Guess not,” Al said, shooting at the creature’s torso. His bullet struck the orange stripe, and to our surprise, the glow dimmed, leaving the stripe dull and inert.

“Wait—did that...?” I trailed off, aiming for the red stripe. My bolt hit dead center, and the fiery glow flickered out, leaving the stripe dark.

Al glanced at me, realization dawning. “We have to neutralize each stripe first.”

“Great,” I said, adjusting my aim to the yellow stripe. “Because one glowing target wasn’t enough.”

We fired at the remaining stripes one by one, each hit causing its corresponding magic to fizzle out. As the last indigo stripe dimmed, the caterpillar stopped thrashing, leaving only its head still glowing faintly.

“Headshot now?” Al asked, already lining up his rifle.

“Looks like it,” I said, loosing another bolt just as Al’s rifle cracked. The combined shots hit true, and the caterpillar froze.

We approached the remains cautiously. I turned it into a crystal. I bent to retrieve my bolts, but when I touched the green-struck one, it crumbled into a molten smear.

“Fantastic,” I grumbled, inspecting another bolt that had struck the indigo stripe. It disintegrated into dust between my fingers. “Green melts them, indigo crumbles them. Stupid caterpillars.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Al gave me a sidelong glance, his rifle slung over his shoulder. “At least we know how to deal with them now.”

“Yeah,” I said, reloading the crossbow. “But they’re still annoying.”

After clearing the caterpillars outside, the wind showed me the location of two dungeons. With a quick tug on my connection to Rue, he came barreling toward us like an overexcited puppy—if puppies were the size of horses and telepathic.

The first dungeon wasn’t the caterpillars. It was something much weirder. The clearing opened onto a vast grassland dotted with enormous creatures that looked like the lovechild of a hippopotamus and a tapir, with hooves and bat-like ears that flopped comically as they moved.

“Spirits,” I said, squinting at them. “They look like someone lost a bet.”

Al raised an eyebrow, his tone dry. “I assume you are not referring to their aesthetic charm.”

Before I could respond, one of them noticed us. Then another. And another. The entire herd froze for a heartbeat, their ears twitching in unison, and then the ground trembled.

“They’re stampeding,” I said, a little dumbfounded.

“Brilliant observation,” Al deadpanned as the herd thundered toward us.

Rue and I shot into the air without hesitation. On the other hand, Al waited until the last second before leaping clear of the charging beasts, landing neatly to the side. I started calling out to him, but the herd veered toward me.

“Oh, come on!” I yelled, zigzagging higher. The monsters swerved, their ears flapping like uncoordinated flags.

Al jumped again, landing a safe distance away. The monsters swerved toward him. He jumped again. They swerved. He landed on the back of one beast, and for a moment, everything went still. The creature blinked, clearly confused, and then began running in erratic circles while the rest of the herd thundered past.

I flew closer, Rue beside me, watching Al’s increasingly absurd rodeo performance. “Need a lift?” I called.

Al waved me off with a broad grin. “No need! This is excellent!”

With one hand, he grabbed one of the floppy ears for balance. In the other, he drew his giant sword, which he’d earned from our first dungeon. He plunged it into the creature’s neck with dramatic flair. The beast collapsed in a slide that would’ve made a baseball player jealous. Al hopped off, turned the monster into the crystal, and leaped clear just as the next wave of monsters barreled past.

It didn’t stop there. Two jumps later, he was on another monster’s back, sword at the ready. Then another. And another. Each time, the unlucky creature he landed on broke from the herd, running in confused circles until it met its shiny, crystalline fate.

Rue and I hovered above, watching the chaos unfold. At one point, I descended, thinking I should probably help. Al spotted me immediately and barked, “Stay there! I am handling this!”

“Sure looks like it,” I said, crossing my arms as Rue huffed beside me.

Al’s grin only grew with each leap. The crazy bastard was having the time of his life. By the fiftieth monster, his acrobatics had become downright ridiculous. He flipped, spun, and managed a mid-air flourish before plunging the sword down.

“Judging by that smile,” I said, shaking my head, “he’s having way too much fun.”

Rue snorted in agreement. “Al happy. Al silly.”

“I’d say he’s more than silly.” I sighed, watching him leap onto yet another confused monster. “But hey, at least he’s thorough.”

The final guardian was smaller than the other monsters but had bat-like wings, giving it an unsettling look. As soon as we entered its cave, the creature rose into the air with a screech, flapping madly before diving straight at us like a cannonball with teeth.

It didn’t go as planned—for the monster.

Al sprang to the side with practiced ease, his movements fluid and controlled. Rue, hovering in the air beside me, twisted his bulky form mid-flight with an agility that seemed impossible for something his size. I took the straightforward approach, firing a bolt of lightning that hit the creature square in the chest. The monster spasmed mid-air with a noise somewhere between a wheeze and a squeak, then dropped like a sack of bricks.

Al didn’t waste a second. He darted forward, his massive sword already drawn, and with one clean swing, he lopped off the creature’s head.

I lowered my hands, the residual crackle of electricity fading as I surveyed the scene. “Well,” I said, turning it into a crystal, “at least I did something in this dungeon.”

Al gave me a faint smirk, wiping the blade clean. “Do not sell yourself short. It was an excellent shot.”

Rue, still hovering beside me, snorted. “John help. A little.”

“Thanks, buddy,” I said dryly, patting him on the head as we turned toward the core.

It glowed faintly, nestled in a small alcove at the back of the cave. I touched in and received the strangest knife I’d ever seen. It had a curved, half-moon blade made of some unrecognizable metal that reflected light in odd ways. The handle was smooth, polished bone, its creamy surface marbled with faint natural striations. The whole thing looked functional, but something about it made you think it wasn’t just your average knife. It looked bizarrely impractical.

I held it up, frowning. “Do you have any idea what this is?” I asked, turning to Al.

He nodded immediately, his expression unreadable.

I blinked. “How do you have any idea what this is?”

“Use Identify.”

“Ah.” I cleared my throat. “Good idea.”

Focusing on the strange weapon, I activated the Identify spell. The words materialized before me:

Leather Trimming Round Head Knife

“Huh?!” I stared at the blade, then back at Al. I still had the leather crafting skill I’d picked up from the workshop on Earth, but I had no idea how to use this thing. With a shrug, I stored the strange knife and the core. Moments later, the dungeon spit us out into the open air.

Judging by the sun, it was afternoon. “Should we tackle the next one or leave it for tomorrow?” I asked Al, stretching my shoulders.

“We know how to handle the caterpillars now,” Al replied, already walking toward the next one. “Let’s do it today.”

“John promise Rue a dungeon,” Rue whined, his voice loud in my head. “Rue couldn’t do potato rocks, and Al take the fast bigs.” He stomped a massive paw, shaking the ground slightly. “Next dungeon is Rue’s!”

Al and I exchanged a wince. His lips twitched, clearly fighting a smirk. I rubbed the back of my neck, trying for a calm tone. “You see, buddy, the next dungeon is... uh, magic-spitting caterpillars. They absorb magic, so we must handle them with guns.”

Rue’s head drooped dramatically. He turned to me, his massive eyes somehow growing even bigger, the saddest puppy-dog expression I’d ever seen on his face. Then, with a deep sigh, he turned and padded away toward home without another word, his tail and ears drooping.

I watched him go, guilt knotting in my chest. “I’m going to have to make it up to him,” I said.

Al clapped me on the shoulder. “Good luck with that.”

The dungeon with the caterpillars was mostly a walk in the park—if your idea of a park involved massive boulders and rainbow-colored monsters hiding between them. Unlike the other creatures we’d faced, these caterpillars didn’t attack on sight. Instead, they ducked behind the rocks, forcing us to search them out like some twisted game of hide-and-seek. It wasn’t hard, but it was tedious, slowing us down more than I liked.

Al leaped effortlessly from rock to rock, dodging the occasional burst of magic like it was a casual warm-up. He picked off the caterpillars from his perch with his rifle, his movements quick and fluid. I hovered above, blasting away with my crossbow, when I caught a glimpse of one of the colorful buggers peeking out.

At one point, I couldn’t hold back my curiosity. “What’s your Jump level? You’re too good at it.”

He fired another shot before answering, his tone amused. “Before the last dungeon, it was level eight. Now it is eleven. My riding skill also went from eighteen to twenty-one.”

I raised an eyebrow. “No wonder you smiled so much during the last dungeon.”

He shook his head. “No. I only discovered the level-ups after we left. I smiled because it was fun.”

I shrugged. “To each his own.”

The final guardian was where the real challenge began. It was a caterpillar—just like the others—only three times the size and three times as irritating. Instead of firing magic in predictable single-color bursts, this one shot three-color combinations at once, the spells firing randomly with no discernible pattern. Dodging its attacks required more than just quick reflexes. It was a mix of acrobatics on Al’s part and some serious mid-air maneuvering from me.

The “three-times” theme didn’t stop with its attacks. Each color stripe needed to be hit three times to deactivate, and we quickly learned that taking too long between hits would reset the color entirely. That particular discovery came with an icy surprise—an ice shard lodged in Al’s bicep after the blue stripe reactivated mid-fight.

“You good?” I asked, hovering above as he yanked the shard free and drank a potion.

“Perfectly fine,” he said, his voice tight with irritation. “Just finish it off before it gets creative.”

After that, we adjusted. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of dodging, firing, and carefully timing our shots. Once we found the rhythm, it wasn’t too difficult, and the oversized bugger finally collapsed. In less than ten minutes, the fight was over.

We stood over the crystalized remains, catching our breath. “Three times the size, three times the effort,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sensing a theme.”

“Three times the reward, I hope,” Al said.

Well, it wasn’t three times, but still worth it. Both of us received a scroll.

Fusion Script: Duality’s Forge

Grants the user the knowledge and runic formula necessary to combine two existing spells into a new, unique spell. The resulting spell properties depend on the synergy between the fused spells.

When I opened the scroll, I expected to see a schematic, intricate diagram with runes and lines detailing the magical fusion process. Instead, the inside was blank, save for the exact description Identify gave me. Curious, I poured mana into the scroll.

Words materialized across the parchment in glowing letters:

Which two spells do you want to combine?

I froze, caught off guard. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Honestly, I’d just poured mana into it to see what would happen, not expecting the scroll to demand an immediate answer. My hesitation was brief—I didn’t want to waste this opportunity.

Pulling up my profile, I scanned through my list of spells. Two caught my eye: Verdant Grasp and Bramble Shield. They had similarities—both manipulated plant life, one summoning roots to grab and restrain targets, the other creating thorny barriers for defense.

“Let’s see how well they work together,” I said, selecting the two spells.

The scroll shimmered, the glowing letters dissolving and reforming into runes and diagrams. Sadly, it was too brief. I caught only one rune I knew, and the scroll crumbled into dust.

New Spell: Thornbind Barrier

School: Nature

Type: Hybrid Control and Defense

Description:

This spell weaves the restraining power of Verdant Grasp with the protective strength of Bramble Shield. Thick, thorn-laden roots burst from the ground, encircling a targeted area or individual. The roots both entangle enemies, immobilizing them, and form a dense, spiked barrier, preventing external threats from penetrating.

Effects:

• Primary Effect: Enemies within the radius are restrained by thorny roots, reducing their mobility and causing minor damage over time.

• Secondary Effect: A defensive barrier of brambles forms around the area, shielding allies and absorbing incoming attacks.

• Duration: 10 seconds, with an increased effect based on mana input.

• Limitations: The barrier is stationary, and the spell requires solid ground to take root.

As the spell’s name appeared on my profile, I grinned. I already learned that a longer description meant stronger or better. Not bad for something I chose on a whim. I couldn’t wait to test it out.