I wiped my baselard clean even before I washed myself. I had no idea what that blood would do to my blade, and it had unquestionably saved my skin there. My smaller knives wouldn’t have been anywhere near enough to take down the beast.

Draconewt (deceased)

The corpse of a draconewt. Inedible.

Contents: Draconewt bones, draconewt meat, draconewt offal (modified), draconewt scales, draconewt teeth.

Holy shit. It was some kind of little dragon. I immediately dismantled the corpse and further dismantled the offal. The heart was destroyed, and my inventory discarded it, but I gained the liver.

Dismantling from within my metasystem with my skills wasn’t perfect. Parts were lost. If I could have properly butchered the corpse myself, I could have saved the ruined heart, even with the stabwounds and whatever other damage it had. No doubt the heart of a dragon, even a small dragon like this draconewt, had tremendous value, but it was too late for regrets now. At least the mental load was lighter, so I could move more easily. Between the weight of the gold and everything else I was carrying, an entire mini-dragon was almost too much.

Even still, I had gained many treasures. I pulled out the scales, ignoring the sting of acid and hot blood on my skin, and looked them over. They were magnificent. Once I’m fully grown, I definitely need to commission new armor made out of these.

The battle had been way, way too close. I had been torn apart before, but that was the first time I was ever, well, eaten. If the draconewt had been evolved and properly magical, which it didn’t seem to be as it lacked a magic crystal, I doubted I would have survived at all. I had no idea what the internal organs of a magical creature would do to me. Healing might not have worked from within. I didn’t really know how my inventory worked, and it might not have opened within the confines of a creature with stronger magic.

I laughed a bit at the idea of dying so soon after acquiring so much gold. Would the gold disappear forever in my inventory if I died? I had no idea.

Buda was squealing and grunting at me while prodding me with his nose, worried out of his mind. I patted him to no avail, and ultimately cast a calm spell over him to get him to relax.

After washing myself and my gear off, I pulled out some of the blade oil I got with my purchase from Mo, and wiped it over the blade. I would sharpen it tonight to make sure it kept its tip in full stabbing form.

Calmed, Buda would only walk back northwest towards Mirut. I sighed, casting a haste spell on him, and hoped the calming spell would wear off soon so we could pick up the pace and get home before dark.

* * *

I did not get home before dark and got properly yelled at by my parents, quite possibly for the first time in my second life. I had to make up a lie, of course, and told them that I had fallen asleep on the beach.

After a long lecture on safety, with regards to all of sleeping in public, stranger danger, ocean tides, and even–somewhat ironically–the risk of beast attack, my parents’ fury was sated and I went to my room to sleep.

Treepo and Gregory were surprised at how late I returned to the beach, and shocked at the state of my clothing, much of which had been burned away. Fortunately, I always kept a spare set of clothes in my inventory. My stingknight armor was pretty wrecked, and since I had wanted to avoid Mo for a while after buying the blades, I wouldn’t easily be able to replace it.

Of course, stingknight chitin was simply not a strong enough material if I was going to be fighting enemies like the draconewt. It had to have been rank C, at the very least. I had gained an absolute ridiculous amount of experience for the kill, skipping level 15 entirely and propelling all the way to mid-level 16. That meant I had 31 SP to work with now, which I could hardly wrap my head around.

I wasn’t in a rush to face another rank C beast if it required getting eaten. I would have to use my skill points wisely to gain enough strength to face powerful monsters like that from the outside of their bellies, where I belonged. Especially if I was dealing with a rank C dungeon, where the corrupted beasts would be even stronger. I would never be willing to risk getting eaten by a beast in a dungeon.

Was magic the better option to focus on with this glut of skill points, or was combat? Should I be looking for new skills entirely? Would I benefit from purchasing even more gear, better items which would help like the baselard had? I felt overwhelmed and unclear of what the best path forward was.

My racing thoughts started to slow as the exhaustion of the day set in and the comfort of my bed overwhelmed me. I let myself be taken by sleep, hoping I wouldn’t dream about the beast’s insides.

* * *

The next morning brought a powerful bout of self-admonishment.

Sure, I had survived the draconewt encounter. What if I had encountered that years ago, when I first made my way outside of town and into the jungle? I would have been a tiny snack, my life a mere blip, immediately forgotten with nothing accomplished.

The outside world required a real champion. Someone incredibly powerful, like Horg. I bet that’s how he got so strong, I thought to myself in a moment of clarity. He probably fought tons of beasts. Probably a full grown dragon!

I made my way to the wall and greeted Timur. “Hello Tim!”

“Hullo Pilus. What brings you out this way today?”

I leaned in, and he leaned in to match. “Do the guards ever fight draconewts out in the jungle?”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Timur leaned back and laughed.

“I sure hope not. I would have apprenticed as anything else other than a guard if they did!”

My father wandered over from nearby, patting me on the head, the previous night’s parental anger dissipated in the light of a fresh day. “What are you boys laughing about?”

Timur straightened up and saluted, but I just shook my head. “I was wondering if you’ve slain a draconewt,” I asked my father.

Horg grinned. “You think your pa’s a hero, slaying draconic beasts?” he said with a grin, flexing his biceps.

Ah. So they are considered dragons, after a fashion, I thought to myself.

“As happy as that makes me, no, I can’t truthfully say that I am as such. We’ve fought off many griffators and other scary beasts at the wall, but fortunately, we aren’t ever besieged by those of a draconic nature.”

“So there are no draconewts in the jungle?” I asked.

Horg thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Can’t say that they don’t exist, but if so, they don’t trouble us and we don’t trouble them. We would have to go deep into the jungle to find trouble like that. Someone telling tall tales in town?”

He didn’t seem to be lying, which was irritating. I was sure I had solved the secret of his strength. If that were the case, I could just keep on down this same path, but since it wasn’t the case, I would have to keep picking away at my father’s secrets. I shook my head at his question, mulling things over.

With my new skill points, I decided I should get a bit stronger the natural way. I wandered over to the training area and picked up a wooden sword, looking back at the guards.

“Anyone up for some sparring?”

* * *

After training long and hard enough to naturally assign one of my skill points to my one-armed skill, I wandered back through town towards the port. I was wandering up and down the piers, deep in thought, when I encountered a familiar face. “Forn!”

The big sailor looked around, confused, then looked down at me. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, and I realized it had been quite a while since I had seen the man. Some random kid probably meant less to him than he meant to me, but I dismissed my disappointment, understanding his situation.

Forn had inadvertently taught me how to tame, which had shaped so much of the last couple of years. I realized we hadn’t seen each other since before I had even evolved Treepo.

“Pilus,” I reminded him, pointing to myself.

“Right! Hullo lad,” he said jovially.

I looked around for his familiar. “Where’s Totter?”

Forn whistled, and the little gremline scurried down the pier and up onto Forn’s shoulder. I appraised Forn and saw that while he hadn’t grown much since the last time I had seen him, Totter the gremline was listed as level 10 in his stats. I wondered if he was early level 10 or if he had maxed out.

“You had a… treehopper familiar, right?” he asked.

“I did, and still do. Kind of,” I said, with a sly grin. I dropped the invisibility around Treepo and Gregory, who had positioned themselves out of sight of the sailor so as to not surprise him. I motioned them forward and they circled around the big man and sat at my feet.

Forn looked down at the two beasts, then back up to me. I could practically see the bulb light up over his head. Last we spoke, we had been discussing different forms of stronger beasts, and he told me about an evolved oxalire his grandfather had known. He crouched to look me eye-to-eye and started to whisper.

“You figured it out,” he asked, more a statement than a question.

“I did,” I whispered back, reaching down and picking up Treepo. “Treepo evolved from a treehopper to a high treehopper. And this is Gregory,” I said, switching to the sleepy blue boy. I glanced at Totter who was eyeing him hungrily. “He was a nodmouse and evolved into a flying nodmouse.”

Forn fussed over the creatures, and I smiled. It was nice to have a kindred spirit.

Born to farmers, Forn learned to tame when he was young, but left the farm for greener pastures–or rather, bluer oceans. After answering the call of the sea, he found and tamed his gremline Totter, which was a beast similar to a cat-monkey hybrid, which kept the ship free of rodents. I knew that, like me, Forn saw the beast as something of a pet instead of just a tamed beast with a function. I could see it in the way he held and interacted with him.

I could see him wanting to ask, but something stopped him. Maybe pride, since I was just a child, or maybe concern about what I would ask in return for the knowledge, but I just outright told him.

“The familiar needs to be sufficiently strong and trained enough to change forms,” I offered. “Once they’re strong enough, it’s actually fairly trivial.” I pulled out a magic crystal and handed it to the man.

“A beast crystal,” he muttered, turning it over in his hands. “Makes sense, I guess.”

He looked back up at me, a slight wince on his face, and handed the crystal back to me.

“I can’t afford this,” he said, dejectedly.

I frowned. It was worth, at best, a single silver. What were this guy’s finances like? I waved it away. “Consider it a gift,” I said. “That is, if Totter wants it.”

Totter was leaning in over Forn’s shoulder, staring greedily at the crystal. Beasts must instinctively know when they would benefit from crystalized magic, and Totter was clearly ready.

I held up a hand. “We have no idea what he might change into,” I warned. “And it might not be suitable for the ship.”

Forn looked at the crystal, and back to his partner, who was reaching for it. He sighed and smiled.

“Yeah, but I kind of have to now, don’t I?”

We watched as Totter snatched the crystal, leapt to the ground, and shoved it into his mouth.

Several sailors stopped when the small beast started to glow with the light of evolution. I heard a gasp and a few whispers, but I didn’t take my eyes off Totter.

He doubled in size quickly, and I was worried he would grow unreasonably large, but he slowed down before growing much larger than two and a half times his original size. He should still be able to slink around the ship at that size and get after the polerats which got into the shipped goods.

The gremline started off the size of a large housecat or a spider monkey, with features from both animals. He had large cat eyes and a simian nose, with ears that were vaguely like the ears of a deer, huge compared to the rest of his head. He had hands like a monkey, though they still contained retracted claws like a cat, and–different from both Earth animals I most compared this beast to–he only had a small nub of a tail. He was covered in soft, brown fur.

As the glow faded, I saw that he was still clearly a beast capable of killing polerats, and sighed in relief. Though he was now larger, which caused him to lean forward more and use his arms to support himself, the hands and face weren’t hugely changed. The larger head grew into the ears, making it appear more balanced overall. The fur had lost its brown hue and was a silken gray now, although it had some splashes of color in the tufted fur growing from his ears and out of his slightly bushier tail, which were a bright orange.

I checked Forn’s stats and read the new name of the familiar. “Ashen gremline,” I stated.

Forn didn’t question how I knew what it was called, and was too busy beaming and trying to hide a tear in his eye. He scooped Totter up and flipped the beast on his back to carry him like a baby, and rubbed his belly. “Good job, Totter,” he said with emotion in his voice.

“He’ll be a bit heavy on your shoulder now, but he looks great!” I said with a smile. In truth, I was the tiniest bit concerned about the name and obvious fire motif. I still didn’t understand when or how a beast learned magic, if at all, but I was worried about the possibility of fire on board a sea vessel… but I trusted Forn to take care of his familiar and keep him in line.

A few sailors patted Forn on the back as they wandered away, confused at what they had seen but happy for the man who was obviously displaying so much excitement. I was actually a bit surprised at how invested Forn appeared to be in the whole thing. Perhaps there was more to his history as a tamer than I knew.

“Thank you, Pilus,” Forn said after a moment. “You’re a strange kid, but I owe you for this.”

I shook my head and looked at the man and his beast. “Just nice to help out a fellow tamer,” I said with a smile.