Larry spun on his haunches, feathers puffed. A Velk-hound charged at his flank, and he let it come close—too close—before whipping his body sideways and slamming his weight into the beast’s side. The hound tumbled, yelping, but Larry didn’t give it a chance to recover. He stomped down hard, the crunch of bone loud even from above, then hooked his beak into its shoulder and tossed the limp body aside with a jerking snap.
To his left, another hound darted in low. Larry jumped—actually jumped, light on his feet despite his size—and landed with both talons on the creature’s back, pinning it down in a spray of gravel. His beak darted forward, pecking with short, brutal jabs.
Tessa scanned the edge of the ruins. One hound lingered at the far edge, pacing for an opening. She raised her hand crossbow, exhaled slow, and fired. The bolt struck just above the hound’s hip. It snarled, twisting violently, and staggered toward the others—bleeding now, its gait uneven. Larry noticed.
He surged across the courtyard, covering the distance in seconds. Just before reaching the wounded hound, he flared his stubby wings and used the momentum to spin, tailing into a vicious side-kick with one leg that caught the creature in the ribs. The hound flew sideways into a crumbling wall and didn’t get back up. A soft shimmer flickered in Tessa’s vision.
[+932 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
[+1022 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
[+1003 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
[+892 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
She blinked, half-smiling. “Well. That’s something.”
Another hound lunged toward Larry’s front. He ducked low, faked left, and then sprang forward, beak first, smashing into the hound’s face. It tried to bite, but Larry was already beneath it, claws raking its underbelly in a slicing arc. It collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs.
[+1146 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
Larry didn’t pause. He turned to face the last sound—the trapped hound inside the building Tessa had escaped from earlier. Larry didn’t wait.
He bolted toward the structure, feathers slick with blood, his claws gouging shallow lines into the stone as he picked up speed. He didn’t aim for the broken door at ground level. He was aiming higher.
Tessa’s eyes widened in disbelief as he leapt toward a narrow windowsill, wings flaring for balance. His claws found purchase against the stone fa?ade, and he clambered upward like it was nothing, powerful legs scaling the uneven wall with the awkward efficiency of something too determined to be stopped.
“Larry, no—!” she shouted, leaning out over the roofline. He didn’t hear. Or didn’t care. Larry hooked one claw into the sill, the other into the stone just above the window, and thrust himself through the gap with force—squeezing, twisting, forcing his bulk into a space too small for his frame.
The wall around the window didn’t stand a chance. With a splintering crack, the weakened masonry gave way under the pressure. Stones split and tumbled inward, and part of the outer frame collapsed entirely. Larry vanished with a burst of feathers and dust, followed by the muffled chaos of claws, screeches, and snapping wood inside.
A second later—boom.
The floor beneath him collapsed with a thunderous roar. The entire corner of the building sank, stone groaning it gave out under Larry’s weight and fury. Dust billowed outward in thick clouds. Roof tiles slid down, clattering to the ground. A hollow echo followed—deeper than the crash suggested.
[+1260 XP Gained - Combat Contribution Detected]
Then silence. Tessa stumbled back, coughing, hand raised to shield her eyes from the dust. She stared at the ruined building, heart in her throat.
“Larry?” she called out, voice hoarse.
No answer. She didn’t wait. She scrambled down from the rooftop, boots scraping tile and stone, then dropped the last few into the now destroyed room. Dust still hung in the air like fog.
“Larry!” she shouted, coughing as she pushed through the debris-strewn doorway.
Standing on top of the staircase she could see the floor was gone. Stone and wood had collapsed into a ragged hole that yawned wide in the center of the room below. Through the dust, she caught the outline of feathers and movement—Larry, tangled in rubble and fallen beams, but very much alive. She didn’t jump in right away. Instead, she focused and brought up her Beast Panel window.
[Juvenile Cliffstrider – Larry]
Level: 29
Health: 323 / 812
Tessa blinked.
“Wait—twenty-nine?” she said out loud, eyes wide. His max health had also increased. Seven levels in one fight. She grinned, relief flooding through her so fast she nearly forgot about the pain in her shoulder. “You crazy bird. Look at you.” Larry chirped from below, muffled but strong. A fresh flicker caught her eye.
Your Patchwork Crafter has leveled up to Level 17
You have 15 unspent Stat points
Her smile widened. She couldn’t help it. Three levels in one day. Not bad. Her heart was still pounding, her hands scraped and sore, but this—this was what she worked for.
“Alright, alright,” she muttered to herself, heading for the edge of the hole. “Let’s see what you landed on.”
She dropped carefully down onto a lower beam, testing her weight before climbing the rest of the way into the cellar. The dust hadn’t fully settled, and the air in the cellar was dry and gritty, thick with the scent of old stone and iron. She dropped down from the last support beam, landing in a half-crouch beside Larry.
He stood amid the rubble, breathing hard, sides rising and falling in slow, heavy heaves. Blood—some his, most not—matted the feathers around his shoulders and chest, and one of his legs trembled slightly under his weight. But he was standing. And when she reached out, he tilted his head into her hand with a familiar chirring hum.
Stolen novel; please report.
“You’re going to give me heart failure,” Tessa muttered, brushing sweat-damp hair off her forehead. “You don’t even look sorry.”
Larry blinked slowly at her, entirely unrepentant. She gave him a slow, methodical once-over, fingers running lightly across the base of his wings and his sides, checking for deep wounds or broken bones. A few shallow cuts, bruises, and one nasty scrape along his flank—but nothing looked fatal. His leg might need wrapping, but he could walk.
“All superficial,” she muttered aloud. “Not bad, considering you body-slammed a hound through the floor.”
Larry let out a proud little warble. Tessa chuckled softly, then paused—her gaze drifting past him. The beam of light from the broken ceiling caught something across the chamber. Something sitting neatly on what looked like the edge of a collapsed pedestal. Metal. Copper-toned.
And not just a scrap. It was shaped, about the size of a dice, but clearly mechanical. A perfect cube, its surfaces etched with lines and grooves like rotating layers. Tessa straightened slowly and stepped past Larry, brushing dust off her arms as she approached.
She crouched in front of the object, eyebrows furrowing. It didn’t glow. Didn’t hum. Just sat there—quiet and heavy-looking, as if it had been waiting. She reached out and tapped a finger lightly against one face.
“Let’s see what you are,” she murmured. She focused her intent and used her Inspect skill. The system shimmered in her vision.
[Amplification Fragment – Copper Series]
Quality: Unique
Description: Enhances arcane output when properly slotted into compatible systems. Tuned to boost energy flow in underperforming environments. Known to cause minor anomalies, major intrigue, and occasional job offers.
Tessa frowned. Then frowned harder.
“What?”
She read the description again, slower this time. Enhances arcane output. Energy flow. Minor anomalies. Job offers?
It sounded… made-up. Not fake, but like someone had gamed the system into giving it a name that meant nothing—and everything. She’d seen plenty of items with system-generated names and descriptions before, and she knew how they worked: when something was crafted, the system interpreted the creator’s intent and gave it a name, a quality, and a use case. She’d even played with it herself—focus on durability, you might get the word “Reinforced" somewhere. Put in a rare material and you’d bump the quality. Simple. But this?
This was... twisted. Not just vague—curated. Someone had made this with other people using Inspect on it in mind. Someone had created this description like they were trying to hide the real description behind a shrug and a smirk.
And the worst part? It worked. Tessa stared down at the cube again, a sliver of unease crawling up her spine. Who writes a system entry that ends in "occasional job offers"?
It felt like a joke. Except it didn’t. Not really. She rolled the cube in her hands, and it made no sound—just the quiet shifting weight of metal. She didn’t know what it was for, and the system clearly wasn’t going to help.
But it was unique. And heavy. And shaped like a secret. And she'd be damned if she left it behind. She tucked it into her satchel with more care than she wanted to admit and gave it one last look as the flap closed over it.
But even as she turned, the weight of the Cube in her satchel pulled at her thoughts more than her shoulder. It was probably Imperial property. The outpost belonged to the Empire, and by extension, everything in it. Even if it was half collapsed. Even if no one had set foot in this cellar in years.
Still theirs. Still not hers. Tessa bit the inside of her cheek as she picked her way through the rubble, Larry padding behind her, leaving bloody clawprints in the dirt. The Cube hadn’t been marked. No seal, no emblem, not even a “Property of the Crown” scratched into the metal. Just copper. Just weight. She told herself it didn’t matter. That it was salvage. Abandoned.
That’s not stealing, she told herself firmly. It absolutely was. But no one was here to stop her. No soldiers. No patrols. No angry commanders demanding she hand it over. Just a half-silent ruin and a bird who’d body-slammed his way into a mystery.
She slowed, if it had been clearly military—gear, weapons, banners—she would’ve left it. Maybe. Probably. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t anything. Which was the problem. Her hand tightened on the strap of her satchel.
“Okay,” she said aloud, mostly to herself. “Yes, it’s stealing. But maybe it is just a paperweight.”
Larry fluffed his feathers and chirped again, unconvinced.
“Don’t judge me. You crashed through a building. I’m pretty sure that’s more illegal.”
She turned her back on the ruined cellar and started toward the sunlight bleeding in through the fractured stone. She paused, frowning up at the broken slope above. She scanned the walls for another way up, but there was nothing. No stairs, no ladders, no handholds.
“Great,” she muttered. “We fell in. Now we get to figure out how to fall up.”
Behind her, Larry shifted his weight and gave a soft grunt. When she turned, she found him crouched low near the base of the collapsed hole he’d come through. His head tilted toward her. Expectant.
“You want me to—oh.” She blinked.
He chirped again and flexed his front talons in the dust. It wasn’t a command. It was an offer. Tessa let out a breath, shaking her head with a dry smile. “Alright. Fine.”
She swung one leg over his back and gripped the saddle. Larry rose the moment her weight settled, adjusting beneath her with the practiced, instinctive balance of something made to climb cliffs. Then, with a powerful hop, he leapt onto a slab of broken stone and began to scramble up the incline.
Talons hooked into cracks, feathers flattening close to his body as he squeezed through the same broken arch he’d burst in from. His claws kicked loose gravel behind them as he climbed, his movements were sure—forceful and steady. Within moments, they broke back into the upper level of the ruined building.
Light and stale air greeted them. The scent of blood and dust still lingered, but the tension had drained from the stones, leaving only silence in its place. Once back on solid ground, she adjusted her grip on the saddle, keeping her seat as Larry straightened and shook out his feathers. He was breathing hard, but steady.
“Still terrifying,” she muttered under her breath. “But thanks.”
Larry made a low, gruff sound—something between a grunt and a huff—and turned slightly, preening at a sore spot with one quick jab of his beak.
“Keep going,” she told him softly, nudging him with her heel. “Let’s head back home.”
He obeyed without protest, limping only slightly as he picked his way through the rubble-strewn courtyard. The worst, at least for now, felt like it had passed.
She reached into her satchel as they exited the broken structure, her fingers curling around the cool weight of the Cube. She pulled it free, holding it in one hand as Larry walked, the rhythmic motion of his steps steady beneath her.
The Cube sat heavy and silent in her palm. She turned, thumb brushing along one of the etched seams. To her surprise, one of the rows shifted with a soft, deliberate click. A face rotated—smooth, mechanical, like a part of some perfectly tuned lock. Tessa blinked.
“Huh.”
She tested another side—nothing. Then pressed gently on the segment she’d moved.
Click.
Only that row turned. Nothing else budged. But it had moved. Not frozen. Not purely ornamental she thought, narrowing her eyes.
She tested another face, trying to press a different edge the same way, but it didn’t budge. A few of the lines were shallower than others, too fine to grip. She braced the Cube against her thigh and pushed into one of the ridged edges with more intent, fingers steady despite the motion of Larry’s gait.
Another click. A different row shifted with the same satisfying smoothness. She exhaled slowly through her nose and rotated one of the previously moved sections back the way it came.
A fourth echoed faintly from within.
And then the system pinged.
[Dungeon Completed: ███████ ]
You have successfully conquered the Dungeon.
Her head snapped up. The cube froze in her hands as her mind raced to catch up with what she was seeing. The Dungeon had been closed. She blinked, then let out a quiet breath. “Already?”
Larry didn’t react, still trotting forward, feathers shifting with each step. The outpost behind them looked the same. She shook her head slowly, still staring at the notification. The squad must’ve been fast. Maybe they’d gotten lucky. Or maybe Halric had found a way to rush the boss and take it down with minimal resistance. Whatever it was, they’d done it.
Tessa smiled faintly, brushing her thumb across the Cube’s surface again. “Guess they found the boss. Hope they’re alright.”
Her gaze drifted down to the object in her hand. She rotated the Cube in her hand one last time, then carefully slid it back into her satchel. The leather flap closed over it with a quiet snap, and she kept her hand there a moment longer, fingers resting against the top as if to ground herself.
Probably just coincidence. She didn’t believe in fate, and she wasn’t arrogant enough to assume she had anything to do with it.
Still. Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down the road ahead. The timing was strange.
