The lunch bell rang, and the way Nole rolled his backpack towards the table of usual suspects was like a runaway train teetering off the rails. He slapped his belongings atop the table, fiending to fill his buddies in on everything that'd happened in Enix the night before.

  “I’m dying over here, guys,” Nole joked as he shook his head at Hurley and Finn.

  "Ya havin' a heart attack there, chubs?" Finn replied. "You were moving awfully fast for a big guy such as yourself.”

  Hurley choked on his food a little bit.

  "Shut up," Nole laughed. "I mean, I'm dying to get home and log in again."

  "Sounds like someone's addicted," said Finn.

  Hurley shook his head, smiling and letting them duke out.

  "And you're not?" Nole contended. "Mister, I'm level 14! I don’t want your newbie scent on me.”

  “Correction, it's 15 now,” Finn argued. “But yeah. I’m addicted, too.”

  Hurley noticed Nole’s untouched lunch.

  “Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

  Nole finally acknowledged the brown bag before him. It might as well have been invisible. His appetite sat buried under thoughts of Enix, even to the point where he'd also forgotten to eat dinner last night.

  “Oh, right,” Nole replied, blinking at it.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Finn teased. “It’d probably be good for you to skip a meal. Or ten.”

  "Dude, kiss my ass," Nole protested. "You're barely any thinner than I am."

  “Ah, but I am thinner than you," Finn pointed out. "Which makes you the fat one, here, fat boy."

  "Douchebag," Nole smiled, shaking his head.

  “Skinny douchebag,” Finn clarified.

  Hurley laughed. Their banter was nothing new. If anything, how they roasted each other and stayed standing brought them closer in a weird way.

  "So, are you logging on later or what?" Nole asked.

  "No, but I know you will be," Finn replied.

  “Fine, be like that,” Nole smirked. "That gives me a chance to catch up, anyways."

  "Fingers crossed," Finn told him. "This ain't babysitting. I can't wait around for your newbie ass forever."

  "You don't even wait for me now," Nole argued.

  "Exactly," Finn replied. "So, you'd better hurry up. Chop chop."

  "Don't worry," Nold told him. “Enjoy your day off. Next time you log in, I'll have passed you."

  "Oh, I don't doubt it," Finn snarked. "Unlike you, I have a life. I can't dedicate every waking minute to Enix like you can."

  “Sucks to be you,” Nole laughed.

  Finn groaned.

  “Honestly, yeah,” he admitted. “I just wanna go home and play, too. I think I’m starting to second guess having a girlfriend."

  "Just have Briana start playing Enix with you," Hurley pointed out.

  "Pfft," Finn scoffed. "As if. You think I want Briana to know about Enix? She wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole if she found out I play this. Girls hate video games. She’d be more likely to make out with me if I got sprayed in the mouth by a skunk than if she knew about Enix.”

  "I see plenty of girls on Enix," Nole argued.

  "Yeah, and they're all dudes," Finn informed him. "Every girl you see is just another dude like me playing a girl character. There's no such thing as girls on the internet."

  The trio of friends bantered on until Nole was whisked away in daydreams again. By the time they left for the blacktop, his lunch was just as full as when he took it out in the first place. He stuffed it inside his backpack and made his way out into the yard.

  Everything blurred together. Nole's thoughts were pleasantly elsewhere. When class resumed, his history teacher sounded like she was speaking underwater. Compared to Enix, it all seemed like gibberish.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  After History came physical education, and Nole barely remembered that hour of soccer. But he marched straight home from the field the second it was over.

  He’d never gone home so fast. For as long as he could remember, the best part of the day was the final bell because he stuck around looking for a friend to go home with after school. If he found someone to hang out with for the day or even the night, that was the biggest win he could ask for.

  But not today. Today, Nole had battle plans. For the first time in as long as he could remember, there was a fire growing inside of him. All he could think about was picking up where he left off within Enix.

  "Here he comes!" laughed the crossing guard as he jogged out to meet Nole in the intersection.

  "Thank you!" Nole blurted.

  He was moving so fast he had to pin his hoodie to his head with both hands so it wouldn’t fly off. It defeated the entire purpose of his silly little invention. His backpack spun around him like a tin can tied to a getaway car, holding on for dear life.

  “Hellooo!” Nole called out, arriving home. He swung his backpack by the door and released himself from his sweatshirt.

  The house was empty. Nole could barely contain himself. Hours of undisturbed gameplay awaited, and excitement bubbled up like a shaken soda bottle.

  Within minutes, he was in. Lionshire greeted him with the open arms of mandolins and Celtic tunes in the background. Chat filled the logs from players and computers alike.

  Behind him, the inn roared rambunctiously. Glasses of ale clinked together to cheers of laughter. It was a puree of warmth, like a fireplace inviting you in.

  Sparks flew from the open walls of the blacksmith house. Makes of metal lined the walls as hammers met anvils. The assortment of armor and weapons ran as vast as the influx of players moving in and out of their establishment.

  The public chat was as lively as ever.

  "A guy carrying a slab of asphalt walks into a bar," said Dapple. "The man says to the bartender, I'll have a beer and one for the road!"

  "Ba dum tsh," replied Chocolate.

  "I can't tell if these are getting better or worse," said a thief named Sorry.

  Nole made his way from Lionshire to Wood’s Edge, an outpost between lower Goldwynn and the higher Western farmlands. At level 9, the quests most suitable to his level lay towards the region's outskirts. With no Findrinde around, that was where he could grind out some solo progress before they reunited.

  Soon, Nole arrived at the farmstead and began a new quest chain.

  "Our neighbors, the Beckets, have a prize-winning pig named Slop," declared Mama Weaver.

  Her husband behind her, Papa Weaver, nodded silently with crossed arms, vouching for every word.

  “Slop is huge," Mama Weaver explained. "But the only reason she's so big is because she sneaks over to our plot to eat all our pumpkins!"

  Papa Weaver played more charades behind her, pretending to carry an enormous pig in his arms, his knees trembling from the weight. He brushed the sweat away from his brow, really selling it.

  "I need you to dispose of Slop," she proposed.

  Papa Weaver ran his finger across his neck, hanging his tongue out the side of his mouth. Finally, his wife turned around and scolded him.

  "Will you cut it out?" she demanded.

  Mama Weaver turned back to Nole with her hands on her hips.

  "Bring me Slop's collar as proof of the deed,” she said. “And I'll reward you handsomely."

  Nole accepted and went south towards the Weaver's pumpkin patch. A shoddy white-picket fence sat in the distance around a large plot of soil. That had to be it.

  "If I was a Slop, where would I be?" he mused, gazing around.

  Half-chewed pumpkins were everywhere, upturned and on their sides. Everything seemed to have already felt the wrath of Slop, except for one giant pumpkin remaining in the plot’s center next to the scarecrow.

  "I guess they weren't kidding," Nole remarked as he approached the final survivor. "This pig really is a terror."

  Something capable of this much damage should’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, which was odd because there were no signs of the pig. Nole scratched his head as he examined the scarecrow. It simply shrugged back at him.

  Suddenly, the ground shook. The remaining pumpkin rolled over onto its side now that Nole was within range. Tusks and a big pink snout emerged from beneath it. It wasn't a pumpkin. It was Slop arising from her post-meal nap.

  The swine glanced at Nole and kicked up dust in his direction. She was hostile, attacking anything that came close, leaving him no choice but to fight now.

  Slop charged Nole, stunning him as two feisty piglets emerged from half-eaten pumpkins to join in. Three on one already. The odds were against him.

  He blasted the first piglet with a Moonbolt and struck it down quickly with a lucky critical hit from his staff. One swine down.

  But Slop and her mini fired back, battering him with their tusks, chopping away precious chunks of his health bar. They hit hard, and he needed to even the score as soon as possible.

  Nole focused on the piglet, trading blow for blow as the pigs pummeled him. This one lasted longer, but eventually, he struck it down with his staff and restored his health with a nature spell. It was just him and Slop, but he’d already taken a beating.

  Moonbolt hit hard but fried his mana pool. At this rate, he'd burn out long before Slop would, so a change of plans was in order.

  Nole shifted gears, putting his trust in his melee capabilities. His leather tunic was squishy compared to Slop’s thick hide, but Druids were adaptable. The long game seemed his only chance, so he fought with his staff and saved his mana for healing.

  They traded blows. Tit for tat, Nole's health rose and fell like a rollercoaster while Slop’s steadily declined over time.

  Eventually, Nole's mana dried up, and it was neck and neck, down to the buzzer. They were both low, and every shot counted. It could go either way.

  Slop landed a critical hit, leaving his health in tatters. He swung back, but it seemed too little too late. He was on his last leg.

  The pig missed. Nole landed another crucial blow, but it wasn’t enough for hope to trickle back in.

  Slop missed again! Nole couldn't believe his eyes. He landed, but it still wasn’t enough. The pig’s next hit would end him, and he braced for defeat.

  But he parried! Two misses and a parry. Somehow, he was still in the fight, watching his character in disbelief like an out-of-body experience. It was beyond luck at this point.

  Nole delivered the final blow, and Slop collapsed. He looted her neck collar. The pig’s reign of terror had ended, and he returned to the Weavers to claim his prize.

  Mama Weaver just about fainted as Papa Weaver swung his hat above his head in circles, cheering. They granted Nole a hearty boost of experience points for his trouble and their everlasting hospitality should he ever pass through again.

  Nole’s body glistened. Gold light shone around him. The number beneath his name grew from 9 to 10, and the road West to the Farmlands of Sentry Hill called his name.

  It was a hard-won milestone that came not without luck. At these higher levels, even enemies the same as him were hitting harder than he could manage alone. Findrinde was still out of the picture today, but going solo wouldn't cut it much longer.