[Congratulations, Ruler! You have Completed the Rats Nest Dungeon]
[Congratulations, Ruler! You have Recieved The Explorer's Cloak]
[The Explorer's Cloak-Uncommon]
Repairable
Effect: +5% Effect of Sneak
Effect: +2 Dexterity
[Congratulations, Ruler! You have Unlocked the Solid Foundation Skill]
[Solid Foundation] (Uncommon - Combat)
- Level 1 -
Ah, the old immovable object vs. unstoppable force debate. Who would triumph in a pure test of strength? Well, you won't find out. This is just an Uncommon skill, you're not a God…yet. A Solid Foundation is important in every fighter's repertoire, providing its users with unshakable balance. You wouldn't make a fierce foe if you fell over every time you got punched. This is a [Specialization] of the [Footwork] Skill.
Rain whispered through the pines as Buck fastened the obsidian clasp on his new cloak. Three days. The notification hovered like an accusation. He'd only experienced two, maybe three hours in that hellish [Dungeon]. Time moved differently under the Root's rules, and the cognitive dissonance made his temples throb.
But the spoils..
[The Explorer's Cloak] draped over his shoulders like liquid shadow, its velvet-lined leather repelling the downpour. The 5% [Sneak] bonus was practical, but Buck mostly appreciated not freezing his ass off in those damned jorts anymore. Flint stood beside him, an equally imposing figure in his own cloak. No more bedraggled vagrants— they looked like proper adventurers now, the kind townsfolk might actually trust.
Albeit, if they didn't look absolutely frightening in other ways.
Buck frowned at his interface. "Flint, did you receive the same [Title] as me?" He projected the text.
[Congratulations, Ruler! You have Recieved the Title of Dungeon Explorer]
[Dungeon Explorer]
You have completed a memory within the Eidolon! That was fun, wasn't it? Crazy how the Root always messes those things up a little bit. I love how it twists the memories to be so much more… interesting. Guess I coulda told you that. Oh well. Complete more [Dungeons] to Upgrade this [Title].
Reward: You Gain +1 All Attributes
"I did."
"Wait—" Buck's pulse spiked—" did you get the First Reward variant?" If another jackalope had beaten them here…
Flint adjusted his collar with a clawed paw. "Yes. Perhaps you'll let me do my job next time instead of diving under monsters' feet."
Buck waved him off, though the tightness in his chest eased. Bev's Titles were brutally literal. Flint had technically exited first after Buck's near-death slide.
As for [Solid Foundation], Buck flexed his toes inside his armored sandals. The Skill's description promised "unshakable balance," whatever that meant. Like everything with the Root, he'd learn by falling flat on his face.
Literally, probably.
That being said, it reminded him to glance at his other gains.
[Name] Blackwood
[Race] Human (Basic)
[Class] The Pugilist (Basic)
[Level] 25
[Strength] 24
[Dexterity]28
[Endurance] 22
[Intelligence] 0
[Charisma] 24
[Luck] 16
[Titles] Amphibian - Buckets of Blood - Explorer -Race to the Top - Lucky - Massive Cheater - Attribute Hoarder - Ruler - Command - Attuned - Murderer - Dungeon Explorer
[Skills] Spelunking 16 - Sneak 25 - Walking 19 - Breathing 20 - Gathering 15 - Grappling 10 - Writing 16 - Hand to Hand 20 - Hunting 14 - Bushcraft 4 - Reading 10 - Running 16 - Cartography 9 - Tracking 16 - Compulsion 22 - Scouting 18 - Footwork 12 - Necromancy 1 - One-Handed Weapons 18 - Natural Weapons 12 - Cooking 7 -Trapping 12 - Solid Foundation 1
Unable to access his interface within the [Rats Nest], Buck couldn't hide his anticipation. He'd finally leveled one of his [Skills] to 25. A sweet new [Ability] and [Specialization] awaited him on his return.
"Cmon Flint," Buck said, a smile spreading across his face. "Let's see what our live-in Necrohamster has been up to."
Buck's excitement curdled the moment the Nexus shimmered into view.
The graveyard lay in ruins. Not just damaged— erased. Dozens of excavated graves gaped like open mouths, their contents carefully removed. The Apothecary walls bore intricate claw-marked sigils. Most chilling of all, the coyote corpses were gone. Not torn apart, but collected, with surgical precision.
And everywhere… pawprints. Dozens. Hundreds. A congress of jackalope tribes united under a single purpose. There were so many of them. So many more than he had expected.
"What happened—"
Flint's tomahawk cleared its sheath before Buck could process the scale of devastation. The jackalope stepped forward, his new cloak flaring as he positioned himself between Buck and the Apothecary's gaping maw.
Then… light.
Soft. Blue. Familiar.
"Billy!" Buck's voice cracked as he surged forward, sandals kicking up ashes where his vegetable garden once grew. The spectral gunslinger materialized in the doorway, his hat tilted at that same rakish angle, but something in his eyes—
Something had changed.
Those dead eyes turned towards the duo. "Young pup—"
William's translucent features softened as Buck crashed into him. The ghost's laughter rumbled like distant thunder as he returned the embrace, his spectral arms passing slightly through Buck's shoulders in a chill that had nothing to do with the air.
"My my, young pup," William chuckled, his voice thick with the honeyed drawl of the frontier, "you done caught me in a right pickle this time."
Buck pulled back just enough to search the ruins again. "Evander…?"
The cowboy's smile faded. He removed his hat with a slow, mournful gesture. Buck had only seen him use it at gravesites. "Ain't my tale to tell," he murmured, gesturing toward the Apothecary's shattered door. "But mind your step, place ‘s got more holes than a poker table after payday."
The note on the workbench looked like it had been written during an earthquake; ink splattered, letters jagged. Buck's fingers trembled as he reached for it, the paper whispering against the stone like a last breath.
Buffon,
Don't let that sentimental spector convince you I did this for you. As if I'd let a horde of flea-bitten jackalopes ransack my life's work without consequence. They'll learn why the Gilded Vein called me "The Alchemist's Wrath" soon enough.
That said. You will come retrieve me. I've left markers, even your underdeveloped [Tracking] Skills can follow.
P.S. I've…left something behind for you. If you weep over it like some tavern drunkard, I'll permanently revoke your access to my elixirs.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
P.P.S When you encounter the Burned Queen's forces, do try not to die. It would be inconvenient.
The note slapped against the table with a sickening wetness, like fresh meat hitting a butcher's block. Buck's fingers left moist streaks on the cold stone as he braced himself. They'd strolled into his home. Taken him. Taken his friend.
"Why?" His knuckles turned white against the slab. "They could've burned the Nexus to the ground. Could've won. Why play games?"
William materialized beside him, the ghost's breath frosting the air in unnatural rhythms.. "Ain't about conquest, young pup." His spectral hand hovered above Buck's shoulder. "This here's a declaration. You ain't just prey no more, you're the Whisper. They tell stories bout you 'round cookfires to scare their young. Whoever's leadin' these jack's needs to make your death a spectacle."
"Why!" The roar shook dust from the rafters. "All because I killed something that was trying to kill me? This is ridiculous! Am I destined to become some ferocious beast, killing everything in my path?" Small cracks spread across the embalming table. "I kill, they want blood! I spare lives, they come back twice as strong! I ignore them, and they take…" His knees hit the floor with a crack. "I never wanted to be their monster."
William settled beside him, the chill presence cutting through Buck's feverish tremors. "Script was written 'fore you took your first breath," the ghost murmured. "But standin' still while the curtain rises?" His ghostly eyes hardened. "That's when folks really get hurt."
"I won't be what they want me to be," Buck whispered, the words tasting like blood in his throat.
"Master!" Flint gasped, voice cutting through the gloom. The jackalope stood rigid, something glinting between his claws.
William's spectral form shimmered as he straightened. "Reckon Evander's been burnin' the midnight oil on your account, young pup."
Buck forced himself upright. Every movement felt like wading through molasses, his bones filled with lead, his muscles with wet sand. The temptation to collapse was overwhelming; to shut his eyes and will this nightmare away.
Clink-clink
The sound of metal on metal snapped his focus. There, dangling from Flint's fingers, hung a delicate silver chain. No, not just a chain. A pendant.
Buck's heart hammered against his ribs as he crossed the room in three strides. He snatched the necklace, the cool metal biting into his palm. The golden ring spun slowly, catching the dim light as he turned it to read the inscription:
Till Death
The words hit him like a sucker punch. His head whipped toward William. "How did he—?
The ghost just stood there, a look of pride and sorrow on his wrinkled face. "That stubborn hamster dug through more coyote guts than a vulture surgeon. Said somethin' 'bout alchemical bonding agents…" The ghost shuddered. "Maybe best not to know."
The metal felt foreign against Buck's palm, cooler than he remembered, its surface too smooth where teeth had scored it. But the weight… the weight was the same. He slipped the chain over his head, the ring settling against his sternum like a second heartbeat.
"Flint," Buck said, his voice now steady and resolute. "Gather your things, we're leaving."
The jackalope's claws flexed, already mentally cataloging his weapons.
"Woe there," William said, stepping into Buck's path. "Now don't go on killin' yourself. Evander knew what he was doin."
"Billy." Buck met the ghost's gaze without flinching. "I'm done reacting. If we're saving Evander, we need to know exactly what we're fighting." His fingers brushed the ring through his shirt. "Starting with whatever has been hiding on the other side of the river."
—--
A raucous roar of triumph trumpeted from just beyond the Pillar of Voices as wave upon wave of Untested flooded the grounds around the Warchief's tent. Alice had never seen them like this, gleeful, almost giddy. No drills, no grumbling about "that dastardly Whisper." Just pure, unfiltered chaos.
It was… exhausting.
Within seconds, the field was a sea of tawny-brown, dirty gray, and deep-red fur. Dust swirled in the air, half-obscuring the frenzy as even the guards beside Alice's cage swayed on their feet, their grins betraying their itch to join the mob.
"Hey! Bunny-guy." Alice jabbed her finger at the nearest guard. "What's the celebration for? Finally gonna admit you're all terrible at hopscotch?"
The jackalope slammed the butt of his tomahawk against the bars, rattling the cage. Alice flinched back.
"Quiet, human!"
She brushed dirt off her dress with exaggerated dignity. "When I get out of here, you'll be the first."
That got his attention. He turned, ears twitching. "First, what, little girl? First to cry to your mama?" He muzzle wrinkled in a snear, an odd look on a face half-covered in fur. "Sit down before I show you why jackalopes don't fight children." He paused. "Twice."
Typical Burrowborn. All those ridiculous spiral horns and fragile egos. Alice opened her mouth to retort—
—when a sudden hush smothered the crowd.
The silence was instant and absolute. Alice knew even before the crowd split that the Warchief had arrived.
Aeris moved like a blade through silk, each step precise, each glance slicing the air. When she lifted a hand, the Untested dropped to their knees in unison. All except one, who fumbled with a lumpy bundle strapped to their back.
"Show me," the Warchief commanded, voice as hard as a garrote wire. "Have you succeeded where so many failed? Did you complete the [Quest]?"
In answer, the Untested swung her cargo forward, holding it at arm's length like a dead rat. Her snout wrinkled in disgust.
To Alice's shock, the furry mass spoke.
"Ah, finally." It sounded bored. "Perhaps you'll prove more interesting than the imbeciles you sent after us. Really, you must excellerate your literacy programs at this little camp of yours. These 'Untested' are dreadfully dull."
Aeris smacked it like a misbehaving pinata. "Quiet." Then, to the Untested: "My children, you've earned your Awakening." She gestured to a hulking Burrowborn. "Briar… lead them to the Nexus." Her eyes flicked to another. "Cedar. Take the Necrohamster."
The guard who'd accosted Alice stepped forward, pushing himself through the dispersing crowd. Each step bringing him closer to…
"Wait…did she say hamster?"
Alice scrambled to her feet, Boo-Boo clutched tight in her fist. She hadn't cared before, but now? Bunny-people were one thing. A screaming, self-important hamster was another. Maybe the Cracked Kingdoms wouldn't be so boring after all.
"Unhand me, you filthy rabbit!" The hamster's voice boomed absurdly from its tiny body. "Know that by placing your hands upon the Great Evander don Valerias, Defier of Death, Master of the Mighty Zombie Hordes of Althros, Keeper of the—"
"Yeah, yeah," Cedar muttered, grabbing the furry despot by the scruff.
"—you invoke the wrath of the omnipotent Whisper of Death! He will flay your soul! Turn your bones to dust! Wear your pelt as—THWUMP—”
Cedar's fist buried itself in the hamster's stomach, cutting off the tirade mid-threat. The little tyrant's eyes bulged comically as all the air left his body in one squeak wheeze.
"I believe that is the goal." Cedar nodded to Alice. "Back up." Jerking his chin toward the cell's rear, he waited for her to move. The hamster dangling like a deflated whoopee cushion in his claw.
Alice obeyed, pressing herself against the rusted bars. Behind her back, her fingers tightened around Boo-Boo. A trickle of Source whispered through her veins, hot and eager.
The scrape of wood against wood filled the cell as the bar lifted. The honeycomb shield flickered once, twice, then dissolved into golden motes.
"Now don't do anything stu——"
CRUNCH
Boo-Boo became a blur of iron spikes and vengeance, slamming into Cedar's chest with the first of a cannonball. The jackalope's eyes widened, just for a second, before he crumpled, the bear-shaped hole in his torso oozing crimson. His face froze mid-snarl, caught between shock and the beginning of a scream.
Alice lunged for her weapon.
She made it one step.
Then… thunder.
Not the sound. The feeling. It slammed into her like a god's divine fist, driving the air from her lungs. The world bent under the pressure, the dirt cracking beneath her knees.
When she managed to lift her head, Aeris stood before her.
Flames wreathed the Warchiefs' fur, not the wild of a bonfire, but the eerie, deliberate dance of fireflies in a midnight forest. She hadn't run. She'd simply appeared, as if reality itself had stepped aside to let her pass.
"Kneel"
Alice fell.
Actually, fell is the wrong word. The air turned to lead. To liquid stone. It crushed her down, flattening her against the earth like a bug under a boot. Her ribs screamed. Her vision blurred. Her bones creaked under the weight of the air around her. Somewhere, distantly, she heard the hamster cackle.
And then, worst of all, Aeris smiled.
Just as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole, the pressure vanished. Alice gasped like a drowning girl breaching the surface, her lungs burning as they reinflated.
She didn't even have time to savor the breath before a vise-like hand seized her neck and—
THUD.
The cell wall cracked behind her. Something soft bounced against her chest—the hamster's limp form, struggling to right itself.
"A valiant attempt," Aeris mused, voice dripping with amusement. She held the iron teddy aloft by one leg. "I'll have words about discipline with that elf of yours. Until then…"
The snick of twine tightening around Boo-Boo's neck echoed obscenely loud. Alice's vision cleared just in time to see Aeris loop the cord around her belt, the bear's remaining glass eye staring blankly from its new perch at her hip.
Rage, real rage, the kind that turns blood to napalm, erupted in Alice's chest.
That bunny-eared bitch just made her last mistake.
[Slam Spell Failed: Please select a non-animate object]
Alice looked down. Crushed between her bone-white fingers wasn't a cell bar or weapon, but the Necrohamster. Evander don Valerias's beady eyes bulged dangerously, his furry cheeks puffing like an overinflated balloon.
She relaxed her grip.
"By the Gods," Evander gasped, scrambling back with all the dignity of a half-squashed grape. "It seems Bev has spawned yet another violent protege! If you could direct that homicidal temperament toward our actual foes, we might become fast friends."
Alice ignored him, her gaze locked on Aeris' retreating form. The Warchief moved toward the Pillar of Voices, Boo-Boo swinging tauntingly from her belt. The massive pine cast jagged shadows across the camp, long, twisted fingers that seemed to point accusingly at Alice.
"Fascinating," Evander muttered, brushing dust off his miniature cape. "They've pitched camp right against the border. What could compel such recklessness?" He turned, whiskers twitching. "And you, why haven't you escaped this pathetic cage? Surely someone of your… temperament—oh!"
His tiny paws traced the wooden bars. "This is your Nexus? Ingenious." The hamster's voice dripped with sudden interest. "Though how did they trick you into claiming it? Oh, what we could have accomplished if I wasn't tied to that buffoon of a—"
"A Necrohamster?" Nabu's ethereal voice sliced through Evander's monologue like a silver knife.
Alice whirled, her smoldering glare tracking the jackalopes dragging Cedar's corpse away. "Hey! Pointy-Ears!" She kicked the bars, making the entire cage rattle. "Get my teddy back or I'll never read another damn word!"
"A Cayn Elf," Evander muttered, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "Of all the races of the Cracked Kingdoms to get stuck with in this godsforsaken Kingdom. If you think—"
THWACK!
A pebble exploded against the wall beside him, embedding itself halfway into the wood. Evander's fur stood on end as dust rained down.
"MY! TEDDY! NOW!" Alice's scream left blood in her throat.
Nabu sighed, his pale skin almost translucent in the light. "I cannot, Queen Chesire. Your… methods were…” His gaze drifted to the bloodstained dirt where Cedar had fallen. "The Warchief has ordered your discipline."
Alice wasn't listening. She scoured the cell like a feral animal, fingers clawing at the dirt, until her eyes locked onto the foul-smelling hole in the corner.
"Oh, please don't—" Nabu recoiled.
Evander's laughter rang out, sharp as broken glass. "Leave it to a bookworm to try teaching a hurricane!" He bowed dramatically. "Come, Queen Chesire! I shall school you in true combat!"
"Don't listen to this abomination!" Nabu's eyes flared with rage. "He's perverted Mutational Evolution for—"
"Me?" Evander's teeth gleamed unaturally white. "Look at your fangs, scholar! Those could gut a man, yet you waste them gnawing scrolls! Gods, if you would just remove your giant head out of you pompous ass you could really stake a claim in this Kingdom." He turned to Alice, eyes alight. "Together, we'll burn this Kingdom to—"
"ENOUGH!"
The shout left Alice's lips raw. Silence fell.
She pointed at Nabur. "You. Get Boo-Boo back. Or I'll peel those ears off your head like…like an ear of corn!"
"I can't—"
She swung to Evander. "You. Get me out."
The hamster's whiskers quivered with something distrubingly close to pride. "An alliance, then. But we'll need… external assistance."
Alice's gaze snapped back to Nabu.
"Don't look at me," the elf said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "These beasts won't hesitate to slaughter me if they see me opening this cell."
Evander's grin widened, revealing too many teeth. "Oh, I wasn't talking about you."