Charlemagne, still stuck inside the Bald Bull’s corpse, flew directly into the Kine Dungeon’s exit portal. This time, the transition was not instantaneous. There was a sickening, stomach dropping jolt as the rooster entered into whatever space existed in-between the entry and exit portals. For some inexplicable reason, Charlemagne smelled burnt bread as crippling pain assaulted his rear end before arcing through the rest of his body. His Ember Core reacted almost instantly, creating a protective shell of mana around his body. Immediately, the pain began to subside. The relief didn’t last for very long, however, as the magical shield was quickly stripped away by whatever malevolent force was out there, leaving his backside vulnerable again.

  More mana flared out, renewing the barrier. But the shield was worn away almost as fast as it was being formed. In almost no time at all, Charlemagne’s Ember Core was emptied out, leaving him at the mercy of the mystical elements of the in between place. His body writhed in agony as he fought to remain conscious, the incredible pain overloading his nervous system. The rooster felt like his insides were being stretched, twisted, and squished at the same time. With no mana in his core, there was little that he could do to defend himself.

  But even so, as the implacable force continued to rack his body, Charlemagne tried to take control of the foreign power, bending it to his will. It utterly refused. But the rooster was not used to taking “no” for an answer. He bent what little remained of his consciousness to bring this new energy type to heel. And yet still, he made no progress. After what felt like an eternity, the rooster’s willpower was utterly spent, and still he had made almost no progress. As the last dregs of his awareness drained away, a sudden jolt shocked him back to awareness. The rooster’s stomach dropped as the corpse of the Bald Bull slammed into the boundary of the space that he was in, and then passed through.

  Charlemagne’s stomach dropped another time, but that was because he had successfully passed through the Dungeon’s exit portal. The rooster didn’t know that, since he was still stuck inside the bull’s corpse, his rear end jammed halfway out the corpse’s throat. The Bald Bull’s body slammed into the ground, popping the now deflated Charlemagne out of the bull’s throat as the carcass slid to a stop just outside the Kine Dungeon’s entrance.

  The rooster, glad to have survived whatever ordeal had just torn up his insides, decided to take a quick nap. He felt that he had earned it. But he had just closed his eyes when a familiar voice interrupted his plans to get some rest.

  “Hey! Are you okay, boss? After you went through the portal, it turned all angry red for a bit, so I wasn’t sure that I should come after you. But then it turned back to blue again, so I thought that it would be safe to follow, and it was! That was so cool! What a great idea, to bring the Dungeon boss’ body out here. Maybe now you can cut open the skin.”

  The rooster coughed up a bit of blood and tuned out the mosquito, pulling the ambient mana into his Ember Core to replenish the energy he’d just expended trying to protect his rump. The vital energy began to flow through him, nourishing his larger-than-life physique and accelerating his impressive natural regenerative capabilities. In just a few minutes, Charlemagne no longer felt like he was about to collapse, so he went over to check out the hairless, enormous bull corpse lying on the ground. It looked even more bizarre out in the morning light than it did inside the dimly lit Dungeon.

  The rooster used a full power Strike to peck the dead beast on its flank. He made a huge dent in the bull’s corpse, but the leather itself remained in perfect condition. The rooster wondered what it would be like to have skin that strong, or, better yet, an attack that could pierce through any defense. But being too tough to hurt meant that he could fight against any enemy forever. But then again, he got stronger when he was injured, so maybe having a stronger attack would be better than a stronger defense.

  Charlemagne’s thoughts went around in a circle for a while before eventually settling on wishing that he was both invulnerable and had an ultimate attack. Yes, he decided. It was far better to have both. If only he could find an item that would could give him ultimate combat abilities and also make bread any time he wanted it, that would be ideal. Maybe he should try to ask the squiggles for something like that.

  Charlemagne was pleased that the squiggles understood his meaning so well. He immediately gave his consent to having a special item made for him. But, to his surprise, the squiggles weren’t done yet.

  Charlemagne thought his agreement enthusiastically at the squiggles. Of course he wanted that!

  Charlemagne watched with bated breath as a stunning black cylinder appeared before him. Whatever it was, the object radiated a quiet, steady power that was easily detectable to his mana sense. Like the Monocle of Refinement, it appeared to be anchored to more dimensions than actually existed, making it appear more well-defined than the world around it.

  Charlemagne studied the message from the squiggles for a long time, hoping that he was missing something important. But, unfortunately for him, the top hat did not appear to hold the secret to overwhelming strength and defense.

  “Oh hey, boss, that hat is super cool looking. It will go great with your monocle! Man, you will be the best dressed chicken in the entire world once you equip that thing.”

  The rooster bawked a short, dismissive response as he accepted the squiggles’ offer to help him with equipping the top hat. But, as he did, his monocle began to pulse with a golden light. Another message arrived.

  Charlemagne instantly felt a slight surge of strength as the Monocle of Refinement augmented every single one of his gains from both tempering and his Special Ability. It was not an insignificant amount, either. Despite having nearly died twice that morning, the rooster felt ready to take on the world.

  “Wow, boss, you are looking sharp in that top hat and monocle combo, I gotta say! But, uh, it would be rude of me to not point out that your butt is completely hanging out. You’ve got no feathers at all back there.”

  Charlemagne turned his head to the left, using his freakishly-wide field of vision to his advantage as he checked out his own rear. Bridget was telling the truth: his entire butt area was completely devoid of feathers. In fact, the skin there was still raw.

  The rooster concentrated on the area for a few minutes, intent on regrowing the lost feathers. But something inside the affected body part resisted his mana. As the power flowed into the area, it felt like a separate force of equal strength rose up to counteract his mana’s effect. Little pinpricks of pain cropped up as he pushed through the initial discomfort, but Charlemagne ignored them. It was ridiculous for his impressive and attractive plumage to be in such disarray.

  Eventually, the steady stream of mana began to overcome the foreign energy, if only due to a battle of attrition. Whatever Charlemagne had picked up in the void between the two portals apparently was not able to replenish itself, but the rooster could count on his Ember Core to constantly supply him with more mana. His feathers slowly began to regrow.

  “Oh yeah, that’s doing it,” Bridget said approvingly. “Those feathers are already coming in nicely. How are you even doing that?”

  “Bawk,” replied Charlemagne, who was feeling much better about the item that he had chosen.

  “Magic? That’s all you’re going to say? Well, keep your secrets then, I was just curious. Oh, speaking of curiosity! I got that Party Upgrade Token. I’m going to use it!”

  There was a few moments of blessed silence, and then Bridget’s voice resumed, but this time it sounded like it was originating from inside of Charlemagne’s head.

  Testing, testing. Oh, this is cool. See, we now have a mental link that we can use to talk and to coordinate. This will be great since it’s hard for me to talk over the sound of my wings, or when I’m hanging on to you for dear life, or we’re planning and ambush.

  Charlemagne despaired for a moment, wishing that there was some way to stop the mosquito’s incessant banter. He was halfway through making up his mind that it would be better to just eat her and be done with it, when the squiggles thankfully intervened.

  Bridget’s voice vanished from the rooster’s mind immediately.

  “Hey, hey boss!” the mosquito shouted once she figured out what Charlemagne had done. “What gives? Why did you turn off the mental chat feature? It’s super useful!”

  “Bawk,” the rooster responded.

  “Well that’s just rude…” Bridget muttered as she buzzed off, deciding that Charlemagne must have been unhappy with his choice of rewards. Hopefully, he would cheer up once he selected the other two.