The swamp was alive, and not in a good way. The green fog swirled thicker than ever, as if the air itself had gone rotten, and the geyser bubbled in the distance with a gurgle that seemed to mock Renn Tork. His busted boots sank ankle-deep into the muck, the stench of sulfur and death burning his nose as he stared at the warty frog in front of him. The creature gred back with bulging eyes, its dull, bumpy skin quivering with every croak. Renn, soaked and spttered with mud, still felt the sting of the spit she'd hurled at him minutes ago. This can’t be real, he thought, wiping his chin with a grimy sleeve. The Lords in the chat summon dragons and griffins, not frogs that look like a bad joke.

  “You brought me back, you asshole!” the frog croaked, its hoarse voice slicing through the damp air like a rusty knife. “What’re you pnning to do with me, huh? Use me as bait like the st idiot?”

  Renn blinked, stepping back as the mud sloshed under his feet. “Look, I don’t know what the hell happened, but I didn’t bring you here to eat you or anything,” he said, raising his hands like that might calm her down. “I was just cleaning this damn swamp, and then you pop up.”

  The frog narrowed her eyes, a look that screamed what a waste of a Lord, and spat again, a slimy gob nding on Renn’s boot with a wet plop. “You better not, you moron! I’m pure poison—you’d rot from the inside before you could swallow me,” she growled, crossing her scrawny arms with an arrogance that didn’t match her appearance. “Spit it out, what do you want?”

  He grunted, kicking the mud to shake off the spit. “Great, my zoo’s already got a biological weapon,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. Then he looked at her, frowning. “What do I want? To survive this damn swamp, for starters. What are you, some kind of magic frog or what?”

  She let out a dry ugh, like the air had choked in her throat. “You don’t even know what you are, do you, idiot?” she said, tilting her head with a mix of mockery and pity. “You’re a Lord, you dumbass. What, didn’t they give you the handbook when that busted core of yours popped out?”

  Renn froze, the mud dripping down his legs. A Lord? he thought, touching the cracked core hanging around his neck. The Lords in the chat have cores that shine like the sun, summoning critters that torch vilges. Mine’s a piece of junk that can’t light a fire. “What am I?” he shot back, with a bitter ugh. “A garbage picker who listens to Lord gossip on a busted orb, not one of them. You don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy frog.”

  She croaked, a sound dripping with contempt. “Sure, and I’m a princess of the puddles! Keep dreaming, moron,” she said, jabbing a warty finger at him. “That portal doesn’t just show up out of nowhere—only Lords pull that off. But if you don’t know it, you’re the sorriest Lord I’ve ever seen.”

  Before Renn could snap back, the core around his neck buzzed, a vibration that prickled his skin like something alive had woken up inside it. A faint glow sparked from the mud, and suddenly, a bright screen flickered into existence before his eyes, floating in the air like a mirage. Renn stumbled back, nearly falling into the muck, as words formed in his mind:

  [System activated: Reverse Portal unlocked. Lord: Renn Tork]

  [Troops: Warty Frog (Muck, Level 1). Stats: Strength 5, Agility 10, Endurance 8, Venom 3]

  [Lord: Renn Tork. Strength 5, Agility 10, Endurance 15, Dirty Magic 8]

  [Territory Level 0: Pestilent Swamp. Resources: 50 Toxic Mud]

  “What the hell?” he muttered, blinking like he could make it vanish. The chat talks about cores and critters, but I’ve never seen stats like this. His mind fshed back to the vilge days, when kids with shiny cores went to Lord schools while he hauled dung because he stank too much to stick around. They kicked me out for smelling like death—nobody ever expined this crap. The screen stayed there, unyielding, and he growled: “Great, my life’s a joke with swampy stats now.”

  The frog croaked, hopping closer with a look that screamed I told you so. “You’re a Lord, you moron!” she said, her voice sharp as a whip. “How do you not know that? Even a goblin would’ve figured it out by now, you idiot!”

  Renn gred at her, his patience hanging by a thread. “A Lord? My core’s been busted since I was born, frog-face,” he shot back, pointing at the dull stone on his neck. “The Lords in the chat have griffins and dragons, not spitting frogs. This has to be the book.” He yanked the soggy book from his sack, flipping through its sticky pages with trembling fingers. They nded on “Pet its head,” and he read it aloud: “If this brought you here, it’s gotta work, right?”

  She let out a cackle that was pure venom. “The book, he says! You’re dumber than I thought,” she croaked, shaking her head. “Go ahead, keep petting me, moron, see what happens.”

  Renn scowled, but his hand moved almost on its own, brushing the warty frog’s head. “Don’t poison me, got it?” he said, half-serious. She croaked, a shrill, annoyed sound: “It itches, you idiot! Stop it!” The geyser bubbled louder, a jet of green gas hitting the nearby mud, and suddenly, the frog’s dull skin began to shimmer, a rough but glossy green spreading across her body. Her legs stretched a bit longer, and the screen fshed: [Warty Frog ascended to Shadowtoad (Puddle, Level 2)].

  “Shit!” Renn yelped, stumbling back as the mud spshed. “The book works, what the hell!” The frog gred at him, her new shine making her slightly less ugly but no less pissed. “It’s not the book, you jackass!” she croaked, lunging at him. “It’s you, you stupid Lord!” Her body smmed into him, knocking him into the muck with a wet spt. “Don’t you dare wash me again—I smell better than you!”

  Renn hauled himself up, spitting mud, and growled: “What do you know, you croaking lunatic? The chat never mentioned books, but this one gave me something.” He flipped through the soggy pages to “Bathe in warm water,” and without thinking too hard, spshed dirty water from a nearby puddle toward the geyser. The liquid glowed as it hit the gas, but the frog leaped out of reach, croaking: “Don’t touch me with that filth, you moron!” He ughed, bitterly: “If the book says bathe you, I’m bathing you—it’s my zoo now!”

  The swamp didn’t wait for them to finish bickering. A crack echoed through the vines, and the ground shook beneath their feet. Renn spun just in time to see a giant rat bursting from the mud, twice his size, with dagger-like fangs and red eyes glowing in the dark. Its fur was matted with green slime, and the stench it gave off was like the whole swamp had rotted in its breath. The screen blinked: [Mission: Kill the Giant Rat. Reward: 20 Toxic Mud].

  “Damn it!” Renn shouted, staggering back as the rat snarled, mud flying with each step. This swamp’s the biggest, nastiest hole I’ve ever seen, he thought, heart pounding. No cleaner would touch it—said it was a death trap. I only came for the lousy pay, and now this. The rat charged, and he flung a stream of dirty water from his hands, barely slowing it. “Attack, frog, swallow it!” he yelled, voice cracking with panic.

  The frog shot him a look, her bulging eyes narrowing in a gre that screamed If I stick with this Lord, I’m done for. “Fight it yourself, you idiot!” she croaked, crossing her arms with absurd defiance as the rat roared. “I’m not helping—go die alone!” Her words hit like a sp, and Renn felt the rat’s cws rake his leg, tearing a yelp from his throat. The screen fshed: [HP: 85/100].

  “Son of a bitch!” he growled, staggering as mud soaked his clothes. The rat reared for another strike, and he raised his hands, desperation cwing at him. “The book summoned you, you should help me!” he shouted, voice hoarse. “If you don’t fight, who’s gonna feed you in this hellhole swamp?” The frog gred, her expression shifting from scorn to grudging doubt. The rat lunged again, and with a croak that sounded like a curse, she spat a stream of venom that hit the beast’s leg, sizzling through its fur with a sharp ssss. The rat screeched, stumbling, and Renn seized the chance, drowning it in a puddle of filthy water until it stopped twitching.

  Renn gasped, colpsing to his knees in the mud, the screen flickering: [Mission completed: 20 Toxic Mud added]. The frog hopped beside him, eyeing him with a mix of disgust and resignation. “You brought me back—for what?” she croaked, her voice cutting like a bde. Renn looked up, still panting, wiping sweat and mud from his face. “I don’t know, frog-face,” he said, catching his breath. “But if this swamp kills us, we’re both screwed.”

  She spat again, a venomous gob that grazed his cheek, burning like weak acid. “I don’t trust Lords—I was cannon fodder for one!” she snarled, her eyes fring with rage. Renn hauled himself up, wobbling, and pointed at the geyser. “Help me survive, and I won’t betray you, damn it!” he said, spshing dirty water near the geyser without thinking. The gas collided with it, and the frog croaked: “It itches, you jackass!” A short, finned tail sprouted from her body, her skin glowing brighter. She stared at him, stunned, then narrowed her eyes. “I’ll follow you for now,” she croaked, her tone dripping with menace, “but if you screw me over, I’ll poison you ‘til you shit green.”

  The screen fshed: [Initial Loyalty formed]. Renn slumped into the mud, gasping as the swamp hummed around him. This is insane, he thought, gncing at the frog with a mix of relief and wariness. But it’s all I’ve got. She hopped closer, her voice sharp: “You’re a dumbass Lord, but I’ll fight… until I get sick of your face.” Before he could reply, the screen glowed again: [Remaining Summons: 4. Next: ?].

  Renn ran a hand over his face, mud dripping between his fingers. “What the hell’s waiting for me now,” he muttered, as the geyser bubbled like it was ughing at him.