Opening my eyes, I shot out of bed, more scared than I’d ever been in my life. That bogus-ass Linuux and his fever-drenched visions were getting the best of me, bleeding into reality like watercolors. What I’d once hoped was a passing nightmare had become a recurring curse, and if we didn’t find those herbs to break his hold, I feared he’d grind my sanity to dust.

  Sparks was curled in the covers, breathing fast, tossing, her tiny hands clawing at something unseen. I reached to wake her, but before I could, her eyes fluttered open. The wings she usually used to hover around my head were now wrapped around her vest and shivering body.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Emotion after emotion hit me—different shapes, same current. Fear.

  She darted from the room without a word, her glow dimmer than I remembered.

  I rubbed my head, shrugged it off, and headed to the bathroom, but my shaky legs nearly gave out. Maybe Linuux’s mind games were starting to fuck with me. Still, no way in hell was I letting him stop me from finishing this mission.

  I stepped onto the cold, creaking floor and dragged myself to the bathroom, visions of that pale-skinned dragon still burning in my mind. I cupped water into my mouth, swallowing away the sulfur taste left from the dream, and let out a much-needed breath.

  “Cashius, you were telling the truth,” I muttered into the sink. “Linuux’s reach is insane.”

  Twisted lizards or not, I was a champion in this game. Chosen to annihilate. By now, all this freaky stuff was just as common as ice in a glass of water. From creatures trying to scratch my balls off to finding enchanted boomerangs under random trees, I’d learned to take whatever came my way and prosper with it.

  * * *

  I stepped out dressed head to toe in the Mystscraper outfit—blue everything except for my sneakers. Twin cats sat on the right side of my hoodie, and bone-white shoes matched the emblem on my shirt.

  Dressed like this, I was a total badass. Around my neck hung the Illicit Power Necklace, drooping against my collar and catching the dim light of the room. I tried on the claws that completed the ensemble, but wearing them without a threat nearby felt strange. Sure, the stats were good, but the long fingernails felt a little feminine to me. Maybe when it was time to fight, I’d wear them.

  For now, I had Havoc Maker, strapped to my back, its guard jutting over my shoulder. Up my sleeves, Viper and Fang, my favorite blood spillers, waited to be unleashed. At my waist, a leather string held the Gorton Staff. Its icy grip only worked when I held it, so as I walked, it knocked against my leg without sending shivers through me.

  “How do I look?” I asked Cashius, who was on the couch, eating breakfast.

  He glanced up, then back to his plate. “Alright, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I snorted. “I thought you’d have something smart to say, old man. Anyway, Sparks and I are about to deal with this Bogart situation. Don’t burn down the town while we’re gone, and try not to pass out in the process.”

  “Boy, I’ll do whatever I want while you’re gone. And you,” he pointed at Sparks, “Keep him safe.”

  I shook my head, but deep down, I already knew this one was going to get hectic.

  “Come on, Sparks. We have giants to slay.”

  She flew to me, performing her role as protector.

  Cashius stood and walked toward me. “Before you leave, I must share something with you,” he said.

  “What is it, Gramps?”

  “Don’t trust everything those simpletons told you yesterday about the Bogart. Make your own decisions and trust that fairy of yours. She knows more than she appears to.”

  I smiled and gripped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Cashius. I’ve been through some things since I came to this world, and what I’m learning is that all this shit is a game. What I have to do is not get murdered.”

  “Good luck,” he wished and turned back around. I exited the door, the sun just over the horizon. Before me was a pretty decent expanse with a bright red barn about fifty yards from where I stood. The ground felt soft beneath me while a gentle wind caressed my cheek.

  * * *

  I pulled up the map, located the big red dot, set a marker, and minimized it. A golden trail of arrows appeared on the ground, just like in games back home.

  In the bottom right corner, just below the map, it showed how far I’d have to travel to reach my destination, which was four miles.

  I walked outside of town, put two fingers to my mouth, and whistled. Back home, whistling was something I couldn’t do too well, and when I did, it came out more like a screech than a whistle. But here, I was an expert—something the game’s programmers must have coded in.

  As soon as I did it, Misty trotted to my side, bowing her head and licking my face like magic. I wiped the long trail of spit from my jaw with one hand and gave her a firm pat on the head with the other.

  I smiled, wondering if the feelings I was experiencing were real or just more code the programmers had added to make the game feel alive. Then I mounted the animal, using one of her six legs to hoist myself up, and gave her a gentle kick.

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  She made an awkward sound, and we were off.

  Sparks, who was flying around me, shot me a resentful glance filled with jealousy. That melted once I set her on the saddle and let her patrol my surroundings from atop the animal. She didn’t stay there for long, though; the best place for her to be on lookout was in the air.

  Moving while I rode, I figured it would have been hard for Sparks to keep up with her tiny size. But since we were tied to each other, her speed was relative to mine. Which kind of made sense if you understood physics. Which I did not fully, but I did pass the class in high school with a B, so I kind of knew what I was talking about.

  Like how jumping inside a moving train does not send you flying backward, or how throwing a ball inside a moving car does not make it hang in midair.

  It moved normally, just like Sparks as she flew around me.

  After riding for a bit, enjoying the view, a figure loped into sight.

  A veilwolf.

  All fur and teeth, chomping and slobbering as it ran alongside me. Then, without any warning, it bared its fangs and tried to get a hold of me. This one was much larger than the one I had killed on my way in, but just as easy to drop while mounted.

  I leaned to the side and swung my sword, tearing flesh from its hide. Blood sprayed, and the beast hit the ground with a heavy thud. Sparks cheered, pumping her fist like she was courtside at a basketball game.

  Minutes later, more red dots appeared on the mini-map. This time, it was a whole pack of wolves, and riding on the back of one was a leprechaun. And believe me, this wasn’t the cheerful little guy smiling on a box of cereal.

  No.

  This leprechaun was about six feet tall, his frame taut with muscle. He wore a sharp, tight green suit with matching hat and buckled shoes, the kind that might’ve appeared silly on anyone else—but on him, they were part of the menace.

  His face flashed a devilish grin.

  I pulled up its description, curious to see if the system had anything to say about this peculiar individual.

  Leprechaun — Level 26

  Resistant to magic-based attacks.

  I kicked Misty in the side, and she bolted, putting distance between the pack and me. The leprechaun moved his hand in a circular motion, then planted his other hand on his waist.

  A rainbow-colored lightning bolt shot from his fingers.

  How he managed to stay atop the galloping wolf was a mystery. Maybe that was just how the programmers coded it.

  With my head tucked, I watched a beam of multicolored light rip past my ear.

  The bolt sailed overhead in slow motion before wedging itself into a tree.

  Shards of wood exploded.

  I bit my lip.

  Sparks sent a burst of emotion, followed by her own missiles. Her face was pure hatred, brows drawn low, hand hurling her own magic.

  Six missiles whizzed by, leaving considerable damage in their wake. The Leprechaun screamed as its wolf took a hit, toppling end over end before finding its footing again.

  [-784]

  “Shit,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

  Beside me, a veilwolf growled and lunged, slamming its head into Misty. She howled in pain but kept running. After the jolt, I swung and connected, slicing the head from the wolf’s body, then snapped my focus back to the leprechaun.

  [Critical Hit]

  Another rainbow bolt came right at me, but Sparks deflected it with a blast of her own. I locked my gaze on her, and her stats appeared.

  Battle Fairy Sparks — Level 25

  HP: 1507/1800

  Oh, shit. She could take damage as well. I made a mental note and pushed through the pack, angling straight for the leprechaun.

  Speaking of the pack, only three veilwolves remained, including the one the leprechaun was riding. Sparks fired a projectile at the leprechaun, but it bounced off harmlessly.

  “Deal with the wolves,” I said. “I’ll handle the leprechaun.”

  Taking heed, she redirected her assault and hit one between the shoulder blades, sending it barreling into a clump of bushes. When she saw the hit land, she glanced at me and nodded.

  [-999]

  [Valiant Kill]

  Now it was just the wolf on my left and the leprechaun on my right, both running neck and neck with me. The lone wolf snapped, aiming for Misty’s legs. The leprechaun was preparing another rainbow-colored missile.

  He raised his arm, and the air sizzled with an unnatural energy.

  I pulled hard on the reins, bringing Misty to a dead stop. The wolves skidded to a halt, too, but the suddenness of it all sent the leprechaun flying forward.

  As for me, I placed my hands on the saddle, spread my legs wide, and came down brandishing my Arctic Staff. Its frost-covered surface crystallized against my palm, and for a second, I felt like Sub-Zero from Mortal Kombat.

  I planted my feet, braced myself, and unleashed a relentless wintry blast of ice and snow at the wolves, freezing them in place.

  Sparks seized the opportunity, hammering them with her magic missiles and shattering them into chunks.

  I stalked the leprechaun and found him sprawled a few yards ahead, his leg twisted and broken in several places, spurting blood in weak, stuttering bursts.

  He screamed in agony, begging for his life. “Don’t kill me, mister. It was all a game, I swear. The wolves and I were just trying to intimidate you. Nothing more.”

  I sneered and raised my staff.

  At that moment, his mount charged from behind and clamped its teeth into my calf with a savage bite.

  [-457]

  Screaming in pain, I spun and summoned Havoc Maker to my hand, slicing the filthy mutt across the jugular.

  [Lethal Blow]

  With uncanny speed, I turned back to the leprechaun, who was inching away and reaching for something I couldn’t make out. The stench of singed magic was heavy. In one motion, I brought the blade down into his chest with a wet crack, severing his connection to life.

  His eyes widened in horror as I twisted the blade, feeling his bones crack and splinter. Seconds later, his body went limp.

  I turned to check the damage.

  The gear had taken the worst of it, but the muscle beneath throbbed.

  Opening the menu, I took a potion, its berry-like flavor coating my mouth before working its way into my body. The pain from the bite faded as relief washed over me.

  Next, I checked his corpse and found two HP potions. Because of my generous use of the Gorton Staff, I took one of the MP potions. That, along with the substantial amount of gold he carried, made me a couple of thousand dollars richer.

  After finishing that bit of nasty work, I let out a short whistle, and my steed rushed to my side. Sparks started humming again, this time a tune that stirred somber memories of my family.

  As I rode toward the Bogart battle, thoughts of my mom and sister crept in. I wondered what they were doing, what day it was back home, and what they might be having for dinner.

  Strange thoughts to have, I guess. Who thinks about their folks when they’re on their way to fight a giant wearing a mind-controlling helmet? Absurd, right?

  Here I was, a savage warrior with enough weapons to open a shop, in a realm far from home, still thinking about my mom’s homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes. But if I wanted to take this enemy down, I had to push those thoughts aside and focus. Because if I didn’t, the Bogart might serve me up on a plate, carved from the scraps of my own forgotten memories.

  I gave the beast two sharp kicks to the ribs and plunged forward at a deadly pace, following the glowing trail on my map. I hoped this quest would yield rewards and enough experience to level up, and I was already eager to tell Cashius every bloody detail when I got back.