Cromus walked over to Athas, shaking his head. "Alright, buddy, we gotta go, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you out here alone."

  He bent down, gripping the overstuffed Asalisk. Athas let out a small, content huff but made no effort to move. Definitely heavier than before, but not unmanageable.

  With a grunt, Cromus flipped him upright. Athas wiggled his legs in protest, tail flicking weakly as if to argue. But before he could get too fussy, Cromus tucked him under his arm like a basketball, locking him in place.

  Athas went completely still. Then, with a soft wheeze, he accepted his fate.

  Loose Tooth chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, you definitely make things weird, Biggin. but at least it's not boring."

  "Well, if you’d told me in the past that I’d be wandering the woods with a reptile the size of my chest, bloated like it swallowed a boulder, all while a goblin calls me weird—I’d probably laugh too," Cromus said with a chuckle.

  Loose Tooth smirked. "Yeah, well… at least it’s not boring, Biggin."

  They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments before Loose Tooth tilted his head.

  "Cromus… how did you end up out here?"

  Cromus slowed his pace slightly. "That’s… a long story." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess we’ve got time while we search for stuff. But fair warning—you’re gonna need an open mind."

  Loose Tooth grinned, puffing out his chest. "I’m the most open-minded goblin you know, Cromus."

  Cromus chuckled. "Alright. Keep your Nature’s Awareness up."

  Loose Tooth nodded. "Of course. Now quit stalling and spill it."

  Cromus took a deep breath before continuing. "Well… first off, Sais and I? We’re not from here. Not just this part of the world—I mean this entire planet. I wasn’t a Half-Orc until a few days ago, and Sais wasn’t a Moon Elf. Back where we come from, we were both humans."

  Loose Tooth burst out laughing. "HUMAN?! Ain’t no way, Biggin. If you was human, one of us would be dead—most likely me. Humans hate goblins." His expression was skeptical, almost insulted at the idea.

  "I’m being completely honest, Loose." Cromus kept his voice calm, though he expected this reaction. "Where I come from, there’s no magic, no other races that I know of—just humans. Goblins? Your kind didn’t exist—at least, not in real life. You were in books, games, stories… nothing more than imagination."

  Loose Tooth stopped laughing. He didn’t say anything right away, but his eyes searched Cromus’s face, looking for the joke.

  There wasn’t one.

  "So…" Loose Tooth’s voice was quieter now, more serious. "What was it like? That world?"

  Cromus let out a long breath. "It was… mindless. Soul-crushing. We had access to so much, yet somehow, it felt like we had nothing. Everything was about survival, but not in the way it is here. Here, you fight to live. There? You work yourself to death just to exist."

  Loose Tooth frowned. "Work? Like hunting and gathering?"

  "Not even close." Cromus shook his head. "We didn’t hunt for food. We had to buy it. But to get money, you had to work—every single day, doing something you probably didn’t even like. And even if you worked, it didn’t mean you’d have enough. Some nights, people starved. Others, they lost their homes. It was a system where if you were born poor, you stayed poor. If you were rich, you stayed rich. And no one cared if you drowned in it."

  Loose Tooth’s face twisted in confusion. "Wait… so if you wanted to go hunt food, you had to pay?"

  "Yep."

  "That’s stupid."

  "Mhm."

  "No, seriously. That’s REALLY stupid. Why?" Loose Tooth’s ears flattened slightly, as if offended on behalf of a whole world he didn’t even know.

  "Because the people in charge wanted it that way," Cromus said with a shrug. "Everything had a price. Even having a place to sleep. If you wanted a roof over your head, you had to pay. And if you wanted to build your own house? You had to pay someone just to get permission to do it."

  Loose Tooth stopped walking entirely. His nose scrunched in disgust. "Pay… for permission?!"

  "Yep. Your face is exactly how I felt about it, too."

  Loose Tooth muttered something under his breath in Goblin. Probably an insult toward humans.

  Cromus let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah… if you ask me, it was just slavery with extra steps. The only difference was that you were allowed to pretend you had a choice. And if you ever tried to fight against it, someone would just make things worse for you. At least here, I can sleep when I want. Eat when I want. Go where I want. It’s freeing, even though things want to eat me."

  Loose Tooth tilted his head. "But you see them as food too, right?"

  Cromus grinned. "Damn right." Then his expression softened. "But, if I’m being honest… I do miss one thing."

  Loose Tooth’s ears perked up. "What’s that?"

  "Good food."

  Loose Tooth frowned. "But we’ve been eating good food since I met you, Biggin."

  Cromus looked at him with something that almost resembled pity. "No, Loose… you haven’t. Not really. We’ve been eating survival food. Meat cooked over a fire, sure, but it’s missing something. Food needs salt, pepper, herbs, spices. They bring out the real flavors. The food we’ve been eating is bland. Some burnt bits help, but it only goes so far."

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Loose Tooth narrowed his eyes. "So you’re saying… we’ve been eating bad food this whole time?"

  Cromus smirked. "You don’t know what you’re missing, so you don’t know what’s bad. But trust me, once you have real seasoning, you’ll never want to eat plain meat again."

  Loose Tooth crossed his arms. "Sounds like we need to find some of this ‘salt’ and ‘pepper’ of yours then," he said, sending out another pulse of Nature’s Awareness.

  Loose Tooth sent out another pulse of Nature’s Awareness, scanning the area for anything useful. His eyes narrowed as something faint pinged back—a mineral deposit nearby. He tilted his head, studying the sensation.

  "Eh, just more rock," he muttered, dismissing it. "Nothing useful."

  Cromus, still half-listening, was more focused on scanning for herbs or pepper, hoping to find something to season their food properly. He sent out his own pulse a moment later, feeling his awareness stretch outward.

  That’s when he felt it.

  Something faint. Different.

  His eyes flicked toward the source—a spot just ahead, near a craggy section of rock. He frowned and pulsed again. The signal was stronger this time.

  "Wait…" Cromus took a step forward, eyes locked on the rocky outcrop. His voice grew eager. "Loose, I think this is actually salt."

  Loose Tooth blinked. "Wait, for real?"

  Cromus nodded. "Yeah. And not just a tiny bit—there's more beneath." His gaze followed the contours of the terrain, his mind piecing it together. "This whole section might be a buried cave entrance."

  Excitement surged through him as he hurried forward—only to skid to a stop.

  The entrance was heavily obstructed, tangled in overgrown roots, loose rocks, and thick underbrush, as if nature itself had tried to bury it. If they hadn’t been looking, they never would have spotted it.

  Cromus exhaled, shaking his head. "Damn. We almost walked right past it."

  Loose Tooth stepped up beside him, peering at the blocked entrance. "You sure this is it?"

  Cromus grinned. "Only one way to find out."

  Rolling up his sleeves, he dug his hands into the mess of roots and debris, starting to clear a path. Loose Tooth joined in, using his smaller frame to wriggle between the tangled growth, cutting away vines and prying loose stubborn stones.

  It was slow work, but with every handful of dirt and snapped root, the opening widened bit by bit. A damp, mineral scent drifted from the darkness beyond.

  Cromus wiped the sweat from his brow, looking deeper inside. The ground sloped downward, vanishing into shadows. His grin widened.

  "Alright, Loose," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let’s go see just how much salt we’re talking about."

  Loose Tooth peered into the cave, an excited glint in his eyes. "Hope it's worth the effort."

  With that, the two of them stepped inside, descending into the unknown.

  The deeper they walked, the more the cave changed. At first, the ground was still packed dirt, but with each step downward, it became cooler, the walls rougher. Soon, the dirt faded into stone, the path narrowing slightly as jagged formations jutted from the sides. The air grew thicker, not just with dust but with something… else.

  Cromus didn’t notice it at first. His mind was on salt—his mouth practically watering at the thought. But Loose Tooth did.

  The further they went, the more sound changed. The forest noises—chirping insects, rustling leaves, the distant cry of a bird—all faded into silence, replaced by a low hum of echoes. Their own footsteps bounced off the walls, sometimes distorting in ways that made it sound like something else was moving alongside them.

  A single drop of water fell from above, landing on Cromus’s shoulder. He paused, glancing up, only to find the ceiling vanished into darkness. He hadn’t realized how deep the cave stretched.

  Then he saw it.

  A crystallized salt formation, standing taller than him, its jagged edges catching the dim light that trickled through unseen cracks above. Smaller salt veins ran along the cave walls, glimmering faintly.

  Cromus stepped forward, brushing his fingers against it. He expected coarse, flaky grains, but instead, the surface was smooth, hardened over time. His excitement faltered.

  "This… isn’t exactly what I wanted," he admitted. "It’s salt, yeah, but not the kind we can just grind up."

  He sent out another pulse of Nature’s Awareness and moved deeper.

  Behind him, Loose Tooth lingered a moment, eyeing the base of the salt formation. There were scrapes along the lower half—not claws, not tools, but something wider. He frowned, tilting his head, a small prickle of unease settling in his gut. But Cromus was already moving ahead, so he quickly followed.

  They walked for several minutes before Cromus suddenly broke into a sprint.

  The sound of water echoed through the tunnel.

  Loose Tooth blinked, then ran after him. His legs worked double-time to keep pace, but he still fell behind.

  “Loose, hurry!” Cromus’s voice echoed ahead.

  The goblin picked up speed, his breath coming in short bursts. When he rounded the bend, he stopped in his tracks.

  A large underground spring stretched out before them, its water unnaturally still beneath the faint glow of mineral-rich rock. The air carried a sharper tang, a dryness that tickled the back of his throat.

  Cromus was already at the edge, grinning like a madman.

  “Hurry, bring me your satchel!” he demanded.

  Loose Tooth jogged up, still catching his breath, and handed over the bag.

  Cromus dumped out what little jerky was left, then scooped up a handful of coarse white grains from the edges of the spring. Salt. The kind they could actually use.

  "Hey!" Loose protested.

  "I’m sorry, Loose, but trust me—this is worth it," Cromus said, his eyes gleaming as he lifted a handful of the mineral, letting it spill between his fingers. "Oooooh, trust me when I say—tonight’s meat is gonna taste especially good."

  His hands worked quickly, shoveling more salt into the satchel, a hungry gleam in his eyes.

  “Here, just try a little. Not too much—it’ll make you thirsty,” Cromus said as he finished filling the satchel.

  Loose Tooth hesitated before placing a small bit on his tongue. He smacked his lips, his face scrunching slightly.

  “Don’t like it?” Cromus asked.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it… it’s just different. I don’t see how this will make food better.”

  Cromus chuckled. “Trust me, Loose. You’ll thank me later.”

  The goblin bent down, picking up the remaining bits of jerky from the stone floor before tossing them into his mouth. “If you say so.”

  Cromus stared at him, struggling to believe that someone could doubt salt but eat floor meat without hesitation.

  “What?” Loose Tooth asked, raising a brow.

  Cromus shook his head, laughing. “It’s nothing.”

  Athas, meanwhile, was awkwardly shuffling behind a stalagmite, trying his best to stay hidden despite his bloated form.

  Then the cave changed.

  A sound. Footsteps.

  Many.

  Cromus and Loose Tooth went dead silent.

  The echoes bounced off the cavern walls, making it impossible to count how many. They weren’t fast or aggressive—just steady. Purposeful.

  They slowly crept behind the stalagmite with Athas, pressing themselves against the stone as the sound grew closer.

  Then, across the spring, they saw them.

  White shapes. Moving. Watching.