As the caravan travels deeper into the Sealine Swamp, the mud gradually swallows more of the road until there is nothing but endless sludge to break through. There is no sense of direction except the sun and the occasional hints given to Lenny by Nyri, and there is infinite discomfort; Cenvin’s original arguments have aged poorly.

  Days flew by and became weeks. Weeks trudged away and finally became a month. The caravan was officially halfway through the region. To celebrate, the caravan had a grand dinner of bacon, fruits, and beer previously rationed during the journey.

  Carrying two mugs of frothy beer, Cenvin approaches Durand and Lenny, quietly sitting on a fallen log, staring into the swamps ahead. Durand is absentmindedly sharpening his knife.

  “What’s wrong? Have a drink, you guys!” He offers cheerfully.

  Durand shakes him away dismissively as Lenny lowers his head contemplatively.

  “What’s wrong?” repeats Cenvin.

  “Lenny got word from Nyri that there’s a small village ahead.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Secrecy, fool,” he stands up as he stows the knife and the whetstone. “Our mission is all about secrecy. What if they see us and tell Starmetal? That would blow our cover. We need to discuss this with Assert.”

  “Not her!”

  “She’s the most experienced and powerful out of all of us here, whether you like it or not, Cenvin. I think it’s safe to declare that she calls the shots now.”

  “Fine,” Cenvin groans as he bends over and pockets a few blades of Spectralroots.

  “We have to liquidate the village,” Assert states. “There’s no other realistic choice.”

  “There is a realistic choice: to act like actual merchants, which we are, and to trade with them peacefully and pass on through! What kind of sick psycho do you have to be to massacre an entire village?” Says Cenvin, flushed, and visibly agitated.

  “That village is quite new. Right, Cedric?”

  Cedric sheepishly steps up and nods.

  “I can confirm. It’s not there the last time I traveled through here, about nine months ago.”

  “They don’t know what is lurking in this mud, especially since they built their little settlement smack in the center. And, even if they did know by now, they can’t escape. They don’t have the resources and the power we wield. I’m giving them a mercy death here.”

  Lenny nods thoughtfully.

  “That is a good point right there, O’Merc.”

  “We’re not killing!” Cenvin yells as he shoots out of his chair onto his feet. “I don’t give a damn if they die a slow, suffocating death, I just want to get out of here as fast as possible, with little few unnecessary obstacles as possible!”

  “Will you not do a good deed!” Assert also raises her voice.

  Blue flame glints in her eyes as she locks eye contact with Cenvin. Cedric hurries forward and separates the two.

  “Now, now. Calm down here. Please don’t fight every time you two see each other.”

  Durand interrupts.

  “I don’t know how you managed to spin it so that you’re the good guy here, Assert, but I’m sticking to my own morals. We pass through, trade peacefully, and then leave.”

  “I agree,” Cenvin adds.

  “I suppose I shall too then,” Lenny says.

  Assert raises her hands in defeat and leaves the party, muttering “They reap what they sow…” as she turns right and walks out of sight.

  The townspeople are eager to socialize with the caravan. Being primarily carpenters and farmers, they happily traded wooden supplies and rations with the merchants for woolen blankets, clothes, and some longswords.

  Leaving Cedric and Assert to chat with the head Elder, the party skirts around a house to find three young boys clashing with wooden swords. Engrossed and concentrated, they even fail to notice the party’s arrival, instead their three-way conflict escalates and they simultaneously strike each other on the stomach and collapses, laughing wildly.

  “Bravo!” Lenny claps.

  The boys turn their heads, messy hair flying all about, and curiously look down at the honey badger.

  “That’s a cool pet!” One of them exclaims.

  Cenvin smiles and trots forward.

  “I like your enthusiasm, children, but your swordplay is an absolute ass. If you wish, I can teach you some tricks-”

  He stops as a cold voice appears behind him.

  “We are going.”

  “Aw, cmon, can’t we just stay for another hour-”

  “No.”

  “Just do this one favor for me-”

  “Get going. Now.”

  Staring at Assert’s back, he sighs in frustration as he bends over and picks up a handful of shiny red herbs.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Bye, misters!” A boy shouts behind the departing party.

  A few days after leaving the village, Cenvin finally gathers enough courage to face Assert again.

  “What do you want now?”

  “I suppose the swamp’s quite safe, as nothing bad has happened yet. Your point has been disproven. Ha!”

  “You mean that little debate we had? Trust me, Cenvin, don’t drop your guard.”

  A roar erupts from the side of the caravan as a giant frog leaps out from the mud. Fungus seems to grow from it, but the nearby merchants don’t notice.

  Assert draws a flaming icicle from the ground, but as she charges toward the commotion she peeks back at the flabbergasted Cenvin and chuckles lightly.

  “Point proven.”

  The frog opens its mouth to release a cloud of spores towards the party, immediately countered by Durand who forms a thin air veil around the group. Cenvin draws the Shimmerim and charges headfirst into battle, dodging between the frog’s legs and leaping up behind for a damaging stab to the frog’s back. Lenny draws Rikki Tikki Tavi and casts a quick Barkskin on himself for additional defense. Then, he similarly lashes at the frog—a miss.

  As the backline, Assert splits her icicle into many small blazing arrows, 42 to be exact, and they all surge at the frog in an organized volley. The monstrous frog twitches and shakes the icicles off. The largest stem of the fungus inside it seems to shrivel up, which does not escape Assert’s gaze.

  “It’s likely weak to Gifteds’ abilities, like many other Otherworld creatures! Use your abilities! Not you, Cenvin!”

  The frog’s tongue darts out and smashes Assert into the ground. A cloud of dust rises, obscuring vision, making Assert’s fate uncertain.

  Durand heads in, shortswords spinning, shouting at Lenny, “Use your Glow!”

  Lenny closes his eyes in concentration and conjures three shining orbs. He flies them into the frog’s gaping mouth and detonates them in concert. The frog, throat smoking, quivers in pain, and it falls over. Hastily climbing on top, Cenvin fatally plunges the Shimmerim into the frog’s heart.

  The frog shrieks and writhes and shakes Cenvin off. He lands painfully with a grunt. Oscillating like gelatin, the frog explodes into massive, greasy chunks of rotten flesh, Otherworldly fungus, and bloody gore. The party is drenched with these remains. Durand hurriedly goes to check on Assert, who turns out to have protected herself with a shield of ice.

  Weary from the fight, they head back to rest for the remainder of the day.

  “Could've done better,” Assert simply states.

  They’re once again huddling around a campfire under the rising moon. Each has a sausage impaled to a stick, sizzling them over the fire. Upon hearing this, Cenvin turns as red as the sausage he’s roasting.

  “What do you mean? We were quite efficient if I do say so myself. I did land the finishing blow. You, on the other hand, got completely obliterated by that frog.”

  “It chose to go for me since I posed the most threat. Fortunately, Lenny was there to grab the victory.”

  “Why can’t you just… be nice to me? Why am I getting treated worse than everyone else?”

  “Hmm. Would you like me to be blunt?”

  “Please do!”

  “You’re the weakest, the most worthless, and the most idiotic out of the entire party. I expected you to be better than this. I am constantly disappointed.”

  “How dare you.”

  Throwing his sausage into the fire, Cenvin gets up and retreats, visibly fuming. He bumps Cedric as he leaps into an alchemy wagon, presumably for snacks.

  Taking his place at the fire, Cedric laughs goodheartedly and rejects a sausage Durand offers.

  “I’ve already eaten, no thanks. Oh! I insist! Haha. Anyway, your friend over there seems to not be in an optimal mood for travelin’.”

  “He does what he wants,” sighs Durand. “I apologize. Our conflicts must seem confusing to you.”

  “Right so! All I know of Starmetal is that they bad people.”

  Assert says, “I believe Cedric can be trusted enough with our mission.”

  “I agree with the Merc,” Lenny also advocates.

  “Very well. Cedric, what I’m about to tell you is all true. You might not believe it because you haven’t seen it with your own eyes, but hear me…”

  Under the moonshine, behind a lifeless wagon, a silent shadow carefully extracts various magical and Otherworldly herbs from its pockets. It mutters as it gingerly grinds the herbage into a small bowl indignantly.

  “Fankelts and Divine Herbicide… mix them and then put in a few leaves of Crimflower… A handful of Spectralroots to tone down fatality and then… a few seeds of Bredmead. Finally, sprinkle some Nuldust to erase the taste… Pour water and then blend under Otherworld-blanketed moonlight.”

  Finally, the scandalous mixture is completed and the shadow pours it into three flasks. It chuckles hatefully to itself as it returns to the distant campfire.

  “Assert… you’re going to get your comeuppance… just you damn wait…”

  Far away amongst a tree, a glowing kitty watches it leave.

  “Welcome back, Cenvin the Dishonest!” Lenny greets him back into the group around the fire, shuffling to the side to make room for him.

  Cenvin seems to have found a drink for himself while he was gone. He takes a generous gulp and sits down between Lenny and Cedric, who he pats on the shoulder.

  “Hey man, you look like you’ve just heard hell. What happened?”

  “Existential crisis,” Assert responds humorously. “Durand told him about the Otherworld, Starmetal Valley, and all the hidden dangers and creatures that may be around us.”

  “I see. Why the hell did you tell him that?” Disinterestedly, he replies as he drinks again.

  Curiously, Durand snatches the flask from him despite his protests.

  “What’s this you’re drinking? Some kind of elixir you stole from a merchant?”

  “No! No! I, uh, fine. You got me. I stole it from Krin the Brewsman,” he leans over to whisper to Durand and Lenny, “But I heard it gives you a level-up.”

  “Lemme have a taste of this.”

  “I got you all a flask! Look at how considerate I am!”

  Cedric smiles awkwardly and rises to leave. The rest of the party, including Assert are handed a flask. Durand briefly brings it to his lips and tastes it. He smacks his lips.

  “Not bad! I need to give Krin something for this masterfully-brewed potion. This is amazing.”

  He puts the flask on his belt and returns to sharpening his knife.

  “I agree,” Assert adds as she takes off her mask to drink concisely. “Rich in a variety of flavors with an aftersmell of unlawfulness.”

  Cenvin returns with an emotionless stare and gets up for bed.

  Lenny is the last to leave, as it’s his turn to clean up the fire today, so he waits until everyone is gone to begin his chores. Behind him, Nyri silently slithers into the small clearing. By this time, the moonshine is at its brightest, casting an ethereal glow over everything and enhancing Nyri’s luminosity.

  I have a warning for you this time.

  “Quite unnatural for you to begin our talk with such an unpleasant conversation opener. How is Sinner getting along? I hope he’s living well in the swamp?”

  You underestimate him. Here he comes to warn you personally. It’s of the highest priority that you heed our foresight.

  In a manner just like Nyri, Sinner seems to materialize before Lenny’s eyes. His alien, wrinkled face tears and writhes into something of a human smile. He also uses telepathy, but his thoughts feel like sandpaper compared to Nyri’s grace.

  Cenvin, the rogue, has spiked your drink with a coma-inducing poison. Do not drink from that flask again. You must be wary of another attempt on Assert’s life tonight. Throughout the journey, we have observed him gathering various herbs to prepare a grim concoction.

  It’s true! I put details of Cenvin gathering stuff throughout the previous chapters!

  Dungeon Master, let me speak.

  Sorry.

  If Cenvin is to be successful, you may not be escaping this swamp alive. I hope you understand the consequences.

  “I do, O’ Wandering,” he responds calmly. “I will inform the others of this immediately.”

  As he turns to go after Durand, he collapses into the dirt, comatose. The potion has taken its effect.

  With an understandably exasperated sigh, Sinner and Nyri vaporize into thin wafts of mist and soar away from the caravan.