Cromus abruptly stopped mid-sentence, turning away from Henry and Sais. Before Sais could follow his gaze, a pink ball slammed into his face. That’s not right. It was attached to something. He followed the pink streak back to the open mouth of a massive bullfrog.

  “Cromus!” Sais shouted, aiming his crossbow at the creature. But before he could fire, a wet dodgeball-like object slammed into his right cheek. He let out a grunt as he was pushed back, then jerked in the opposite direction. His body froze, unable to respond to anything.

  He heard Henry’s voice in his mind. “CROAKERS!” Henry warned, followed by him getting wrapped in a thick net.

  “Shit, are you okay?” Sais thought to him, struggling against the paralysis.

  “I’m fine. But Sais, these things come in all shapes and sizes. Don’t let one of the colorful ones give you anything—they’re deadly poisonous!”

  Sais heard Cromus mouthing off, then a weird guttural no, followed by a loud thud.

  A croaker’s feet appeared in Sais’s field of vision. It was smaller than the one he had seen earlier—its yellow skin marked with black splotches. A wicked smile twisted across its face as it grabbed Sais by the jaw, prying it open. Without hesitation, the creature shoved a vial into his mouth. The thick, revolting liquid slid down his throat as Sais tried and failed to fight back, still frozen in place.

  The croaker yanked Sais’s head up before slamming it down onto a rock with a sickening crack. His vision exploded with alert notifications before everything faded.

  YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED!

  When Sais awoke, the sun was directly overhead. His head throbbed painfully, as if it had been split open. He groaned, sitting up and clutching his skull feeling dried blood. Then, the memories flooded back: the ambush, the poison, the Croakers.

  “Cromus! Henry!” he shouted, but his stomach churned at the sudden movement. Neither of them was in sight. His crossbow and bolts were gone too. The only thing the Croakers had left him was his clothes.

  His gaze drifted to the corner of his vision where a green skull-and-crossbones icon blinked—a reminder of the poison Henry had warned him about. His health bar was dangerously low—only 40 hit points remained. The poison had drained more than half of his total health while he was unconscious. He wondered if it would have killed him had he not woken up.

  Without hesitation, Sais spent some mana on his Heal spell, draining 60 mana to restore his health to full.

  He thought about Cromus’s reckless behavior, how he always opened his mouth when he shouldn’t. It was one of the things Sais liked about him, but also a dangerous habit. “If only he would learn that sometimes it’s better to keep quiet,” Sais muttered to himself.

  Looking around, Sais could see a trail left by the Croakers. It seemed they hadn’t seen him as a threat, dragging them away without trying to conceal their tracks. But Sais wasn’t sure how far they’d gone, so he decided to return to the campsite first.

  The journey back to the cave left him feeling sick, his health ticking down slowly with each step. After a minute or two, he realized something odd. The poison seemed to be less aggressive the less active he was. That could explain why Henry had been so concerned. If he kept moving, it would only get worse.

  When he reached the cave, he found no signs of the Croakers’ return. Instead, he spotted Cromus’s bow and arrows, along with his daggers. For a moment, Sais thought about how he should’ve chosen a different class—maybe cleric or rogue. Neither Cromus nor he had any spell to cure the poison, and he had no idea how long he could survive with this handicap.

  Sais needed to act fast. If the poison didn't kill him outright, it would only be a matter of time before it incapacitated him. He hoped Henry might know something about antidotes or potions, but until then, he would have to find a way to deal with it himself.

  Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the quiver and attached it to his belt. He slid the daggers into the waistband of his pants and took up the bow. But before he moved on, he knew he needed some practice.

  Finding a tree, Sais began to practice with the daggers, attacking in quick, focused movements. At first, his strikes were all over the place, but with each hit, they became more precise. His stamina drained, and the poison ticked higher.

  After a few minutes, he received the alert:

  You’ve Improved one-handed fighting

  You now have improved your skill with one-handed weapons. Your aim is more precise, and your attacks deal full damage. No longer suffering from penalties.

  You’ve Improved Dual weapon fighting

  You have improved your skill with Dual weapon fighting. Your coordination, and timing may be mediocre, but as you improve this skill will be a deadly one in your arsenal.

  His heart raced, and the poison surged, but Sais pushed through the discomfort, putting the daggers away and spending 30 mana to heal himself.

  Next, he focused on the bow. He had already lost some health, but now he needed to hone his aim. He knocked an arrow, took careful aim, and let it fly. The shot went wide, landing far off to the right.

  “Well, that sucked,” he thought, sighing. “I knew I wouldn’t be great at it, but I figured a bit of my crossbow skill would transfer.” He readied another arrow, this time slowing his breathing and focusing on what he'd read about proper technique.

  His next shot was better, landing a foot below the X he’d marked with the dagger. Sais couldn’t help but grin as he looked at the alert.

  You’ve Improved Archery!

  Your archery skills have greatly improved! With better form and a more refined draw, you've unlocked the ability to engage in combat from a distance. While some prefer to face their enemies head-on, others choose to strike from the shadows, ending a battle before it even begins.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Yes!” he cheered, but the poison continued to eat at him. The improvement in his archery felt good, but he wanted more practice.

  He spent the next few hours alternating between healing himself and refining his aim. When an unexpected alert popped up:

  CONGRATULATIONS!!!

  You have begun the Poison Body enhancement. Through your battle with the Croaker poison coursing through your veins, you've developed a remarkable resistance to this toxic threat—no small feat without a substantial health pool or a healer at your side. However, your journey is far from over. To complete this process, you must defeat four more powerful poisons in a similar manner. Once you succeed, you will unlock the Poison Body enhancement, making poisons significantly less harmful—or even entirely ineffective.

  Be warned, though: this is a perilous path. Many have failed in their pursuit of this goal.

  “Interesting,” Sais muttered, watching the poison icon disappear from his vision. “If there's a Poison Body, there must be others for different elements or statuses. Maybe I can make up for my low health with resistance.”

  Now, with a bit of clarity and a new goal in mind, Sais felt more confident. He picked up the remaining salvageable arrows from the ground, now down to twenty-five. With the Croakers’ numbers unknown, every shot would count.

  As he began tracking their trail, he considered how confident the Croakers were in his death. They hadn’t bothered to hide their tracks, almost certain the poison would finish him off. But Sais wasn’t going to let them underestimate him.

  About an hour later, he heard Henry’s voice again in his mind.

  “Master!”

  “Henry, are you okay? Do you know where Cromus is?”

  “I’m fine, and Cromus is in a cage on the other side of the cave. He’s still unconscious.”

  Sais crouched behind a tree, careful not to make a sound. “How many Croakers are there?”

  “Eight so far, with scouts on the outside. They’re mostly the poisonous ones, but there are a few bullfrog types for muscle. They seem to be a slave group, which is why they took Cromus and me, but left you behind.”

  Sais frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Half-breeds like Cromus are highly sought after. They’re considered impure beings,” Henry explained.

  “Damn bigotry,” Sais muttered, clenching his fists. “Cromus isn’t any less of a person for what he is.”

  “Most half-breeds are dismissed, unless they have elf or dwarf blood. Those with elf or dwarf ancestry are treated better.”

  Sais’s brow furrowed. “So the elves and dwarves rigged things to keep other races beneath them?”

  “Typically, yes. Elves and dwarves live longer, but in worlds with high mana, power goes to whoever controls it. After a certain point, lifespans don’t matter.”

  Sais thought about this. “So this is a low-mana world?”

  “It seems so,” Henry confirmed.

  “We’ll deal with that later. Can you stir Cromus awake?”

  “Not yet. The Croakers would notice.”

  “Alright. I’ll get closer and try to wait for the right moment. Stay safe.”

  Letting out a groan, Cromus slowly sat up, his head pounding. "My head..." he muttered, instinctively reaching for his throbbing temple, only to realize his hands were cuffed behind his back. It was hard to keep his eyes open at first, but as things began to come into focus, he found himself in a wooden cage. The memory of the Croakers attacking his group came rushing back. He looked around, searching for Sais. Instead, he spotted a goblin, also caged, with his arms cuffed behind his back.

  "It's okay, biggin," the goblin said, his voice high-pitched and nasally.

  Cromus blinked, confused. "What did you call me?"

  "Biggin," the goblin repeated, flashing a toothy grin. "You’re big, ain’t ya? Big 'n strong, like them orc folk."

  Cromus frowned. "You mean my orc half?"

  The goblin nodded eagerly, his head bobbing like a puppet. "Yup! That’s what I said! Orc blood makes ya big and tough. You’re lucky. I’m just small 'n quick."

  Cromus shook his head, trying to focus. "Where are we?"

  "In a cage," the goblin said, his tone matter-of-fact. "They caught us. Probably gonna sell us."

  "Sell us?" Cromus repeated, stunned. "As slaves?"

  The goblin gave a lazy shrug. "Yup. That’s what they do. Croakers don’t care 'bout nothin’ but makin’ gold."

  Cromus tested his cuffs, but they were too sturdy. He scowled.

  The goblin snorted. "Don’t bother, biggin. You’ll just make 'em mad. They might tongue ya again."

  Cromus froze. "Tongue me?"

  "Yup," the goblin said, sticking his tongue out dramatically. "They whap ya with their gross, slimy tongue. Makes ya all floppy."

  "Don’t say it like that," Cromus muttered, his face scrunching in disgust.

  "Why not? It’s what happens!" the goblin replied, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

  Cromus sighed, changing the subject. "How long have you been here?"

  The goblin scratched his head, looking up at the ceiling. "Hmm... Three days. Maybe seven? I sleep a lot."

  "How do you not know if it’s three or seven?" Cromus asked, incredulous.

  The goblin shrugged again. "Ain’t no sun in here. How’m I s’posed to tell?"

  Cromus sighed. "Fair point."

  The goblin's eyes darted around nervously. "Point? At what?"

  "No, I mean I get it," Cromus said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "You get it?" The goblin's voice rose in alarm. "You can see what I’m thinkin’? That’s spooky, biggin!"

  "No!" Cromus groaned. "I mean you’re right. Forget it."

  The goblin grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Oh. Yeah, I usually am."

  Cromus decided to shift the conversation. "What’s your name?"

  "Loose Tooth," the goblin replied proudly.

  Cromus raised an eyebrow. "Loose Tooth? That’s your name?"

  "Yup! Had a wobbly one when I was a kid. Never fell out. Still loose!" He wiggled a tooth with his tongue for emphasis.

  Cromus couldn’t help but chuckle. "Well, Loose Tooth, I’m Cromus."

  Loose Tooth cocked his head. "You’re weird, biggin."

  Cromus blinked. "Weird? How?"

  "Most biggins don’t talk to goblins. They just hit us or yell. You’re the first to ask my name."

  Cromus leaned back against the cage. "I guess I am weird. I was raised to treat others how I’d like to be treated."

  Loose Tooth snorted. "Yeah, that’s weird. Round here, the strong live, the weak die, and the smart ones shut up 'n listen."

  "That’s how most places are," Cromus admitted. "But I don’t think it has to be that way. Everyone has something to offer. Like you—being small probably makes you harder to catch, right?"

  Loose Tooth grinned. "Oh, yeah! Watch this!" With surprising agility, he tucked his legs up, pulled his cuffs in front of him, and wiggled his fingers. Then he slipped them back behind his back.

  "Impressive," Cromus said, nodding. "Listen, I’ve got a plan. You want out of here, right?"

  "Well, duh," Loose Tooth said, rolling his eyes. "Don’t wanna be no slave."

  Cromus smirked. "Good. Here’s what we’re going to do..."