The Squiggles arrived right as Charlemagne realized that making a vow had consequences.

  The rooster took a step back, already feeling the rings beginning to dissolve in his stomach. The process sent a warm glow through his body that began to build into a steady heat within his skeleton. The incredible power of his Ember Core sped up the process by orders of magnitude, allowing a change that would have taken days to occur in mere minutes. A portion of his mind followed tiny pieces of the metal as they were absorbed through his stomach lining and into his bloodstream. Once there, they almost instantly melted, allowing them to travel through the tiny vessels that supplied his bones. Once the particles reached his skeletal structure, they went to work reinforcing almost invisible weak spots in his bones, increasing their tensile strength, toughness, and elasticity. The other part of his mind focused on the problem at hand: the large and very angry armored man opposite him.

  “Bawk,” he said by way of explanation.

  “You were hungry?” the Knight Captain ground out, mana gathering within his sword’s enchantments. “You ate Lord Valdaran’s fingers because you were hungry!?”

  “Bawk,” Charlemagne answered, somewhat relieved that the armored man understood.

  “Excuse me,” Phatagin called as he inserted himself between the two. “I believe that what Ser Charlemagne meant was that he was startled by your Lord’s unnecessary invasion of his personal space and mistook his digits for edible creatures. I apologize that your Lord was inadvertently harmed, but he appears to be largely uninjured.”

  “Largely uninjured!” screamed the now eight-fingered noble. “He ATE my fingers…and my rings! I demand that you return my rings this instant, before I command Knight Captain Ronald to gut you until he finds them.”

  “Bawk,” the rooster responded, punctuating the explanation with a burp.

  “Those were priceless artifacts handed down through generations of the Valdaran lineage. To lose them to an…an…overgrown chicken is a disgrace that I shall never live down.”

  “Perhaps we can come to an arrangement,” Phatagin suggested, attempting once more to deescalate the situation. “It just so happens that we are en route to vanquish the…what was our foe’s name again, good Josephine?”

  “The Empress of the Forest,” the Attendant answered quickly, having been the only member of their group who had actually paid attention to the System’s instructions.

  “Right! Now, as I said, we are en route to handle this Empress lady, who I hear has been giving you no end of trouble. If we promise to defeat her, would you perhaps overlook this little faux pas?”

  “You want to take on the Empress of the Forest by yourselves?” Lord Valdaran barked out. His angry laugh held a touch of hysteria, likely caused by a combination of adrenaline and extreme pain

  “Someone call a healer, now!” Knight Captain Ronald ordered without taking his eyes off of Charlemagne. “A young man dressed in a dark robe and carrying a sack building with medical implements raced up almost instantly and began to administer first aid to the injured noble. A warm green glow suffused the bandages that he used to warp the man’s hands. The party watched with interest, especially Charlemagne and Phatagin, who had never before seen life-aspected mana.

  While the healer was dealing with the town’s Lord, the Knight Captain glared at Charlemagne, who stared right back at the armored human without a hint of fear. Phatagin, still between the two figures, looked with panic at the determination in the pair’s eyes as they sized each other up.

  “Now, please do not be hasty…” the pangolin began. “Let’s wait until the healer has completed his ministrations.”

  The standoff continued while the healer continued to work.

  Fascinating, the pangolin sent privately to Charlemagne. I was unable to sense exactly what the healer was doing, but it seemed like infusing the bandages with that green energy promoted regeneration of the missing parts of the hands.

  Bawk, the rooster responded, unimpressed.

  But it is quite remarkable! You may not understand this, as you can regrow your limbs, but most higher organisms, including avians and mammals, are unable to regrow missing body parts without Special Abilities. Could you tell if that healer was using mana, or was it some other type of energy?

  Bawk, Charlemagne answered.

  Ah, it was mana. I thought perhaps it was some sort of life essence that required harvesting from another living creature. But, since the Skill or Ability utilizes mana, then we should be able to learn much from this young healer. If only we had more time to spend on this floor, perhaps even I could learn how to harness a similar Skill or Ability.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Bawk.

  That was very rude. Very rude indeed, Charlemagne. I wonder sometimes why I allow myself to be treated so.

  Charlemagne glared down at the pangolin, who was still standing between his own Knight and the town’s Knight Captain.

  Ah, I remember now.

  The conversation was cut short as the younger man stepped back with a satisfied but tired smile on his face.

  “Your fingers will regrow with a few weeks, my Lord. The nubs will be very itchy, but you must not scratch if you do not want them to scar.”

  Lord Valdaran nodded thankfully to the healer.

  “My thanks to you, Geoffrey. Please head back to the infirmary: we wouldn’t want you getting caught up in this nasty business.”

  Having been dismissed, the young man hastened to escape from the gaze of the enormous chicken that apparently had a penchant for consuming human flesh. Charlemagne’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight. Lord Valdaran watched as well, but Knight Captain Ronald had eyes only for the rooster.

  “My Lord,” Ronald said once the healer was finally gone. “Perhaps we should consider this incident behind us. Despite the…misunderstanding, and the loss of your family’s rings, the knight standing before us has promised to engage the Empress of the Forest in combat. Perhaps he is rushing to his death, perhaps not. But, either way, it does not seem wise to stand in his way.”

  Lord Valdaran’s appraising eyes took in the motley group opposing him. Of the three, only the rooster registered to his Sense Threat Skill, which considered both the power of an individual and their intent. Both the miniature wingless dragon and the human woman wearing a dress far better suited for a ball than a battlefield appeared to be strong, but their intentions were not hostile.

  The giant chicken was different.

  Not only was it incredibly powerful, it also seethed with barely restrained violence. The Lord realized that he had been incredibly lucky to have only lost his heirloom rings and a few fingers…he had almost lost his life and the lives of those for whom he was responsible due to his own ego.

  He sighed.

  “Knight Captain Ronald, allow these three to pass unmolested through the Forest Gate. And send guards ahead to clear the road so that they may reach their goal expeditiously.”

  “I hate to be a bother,” Phatagin piped up as Knight Captain Ronald motioned for the Lord’s instructions to be carried out, “but we were promised sustenance in return for handling the Empress of the Forest.”

  “You dare!” demanded the Knight Captain, incensed by the request.

  “Bawk,” Charlemagne answered for the group.

  “But…but…” the pangolin complained. No one paid him any heed.

  Knight Captain Ronald managed to regain his composure, and lead the group on foot through the town. Phatagin, who had undergone sufficient genetic changes that his stomach could handle a far wider range of foods than ants and termites, found himself salivating at the smell of spiced meats, baked goods, and bubbling stews filled with a great variety of foods that resembled, but were not exact copies of, foods from Earth. He asked the Knight Captain several times for the names of foods that smelled particularly inviting, but received no answer.

  He asked Josephine, who didn’t know, since she was not even from the same universe. Finally, Phatagin broke down and asked Charlemagne, whose response was a firm, “bawk”.

  The quartet travelled through the empty streets, only catching a flicker of movement here and there as children snuck closer to catch a glimpse of the Knight Captain and his strange guests. The roads were narrow but well-maintained, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves at the edge of the city, approaching a heavy metal gate that was standing wide open. The road from the city continued through a small valley and back up again, where it was swallowed by a dark, heavily wooded forest.

  “The Forest Gate, I presume,” the pangolin stated as they drew near. The Knight Captain grunted in agreement.

  “I apologize, good sir, but I must ask you one final question. In which direction are we most likely to find the Empress of the Forest?”

  The Knight Captain laughed.

  “Now that’s a question I am happy to answer. The Empress of the Forest rules the frozen wastelands. Follow the path until the weather grows cold. Once you’ve made it deep enough into her territory, she will find you. There’s no doubt about that. And I’ll give you one last piece of advice, as a parting gift. Every single party of heroes that has ever set out to track her down has disappeared. All but one young woman who was sent back to tell us what had become of the others. She said that the Empress had frozen every single one of them solid and was slowly draining their life force away in order to fuel her own evil powers. The young lady also told us this: that the Empress of the Forest had released her because she knew that we would send a rescue party.”

  The armored man lapsed silent as he looked toward the forest in the distance.

  “And…what happened after that?” Josephine said, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Was a rescue party sent?”

  The Knight Captain sighed as he continued to stare out into the distance.

  “Not until this very moment. So please, please rescue the prisoners if you somehow defeat the Empress. I know that your vow doesn’t cover that, but I would ask you to do so out of the goodness of your hearts.”

  “We will see what can be done,” Phatagin promised, which meant absolutely nothing but seemed like the right thing to say.

  Charlemagne said nothing as the trio passed through the Forest Gate, not bothering to look back as the city gates slammed shut behind them.

  “I suppose that could have gone better,” Phatagin complained as he shook his head.

  “Yeah, but it could have gone worse,” noted Josephine. “Like, a lot worse.”

  “I simply can’t fathom why they would ask us to rescue a group of heroes on an empty stomach,” the pangolin groused. “Would it not increase our chances of victory if we were well-provisioned?”

  “I don’t think that was their main concern, oh hungry Squire,” the Attendant mocked. “I think they were probably trying to get us out the door before a particular someone ate anyone else.”

  “Bawk,” Charlemagne moaned.

  “Whatever do you mean?” Phatagin demanded. “You have the greatest appetite of anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “Bawk?”

  “No, that is not an exaggeration at all! I’ve met hippos that eat less than you.”

  “Yeah, Ser Charlemagne, why aren’t you hungry?” Josephine added. “Out of all of us, you’ve expended the most energy.”

  “Bawk bawawk,” the rooster explained.

  The Attendant shook her head in confusion.

  “In what universe do fingers and rings make a meal?”