“They’re waving us in over there,” Fenrir tells Oleander.

“I’ll bring her close so that they can pull us in. It’s pretty crowded here,” Oleander says.

“Yeah. As busy and as huge as the city was, there was always plenty of space unless literally every boat was out at once.”

They didn’t see any boats out and about while they were coming into the city’s harbor, and now they can tell why. They’re all docked. The docks are absolutely full of vessels of various sizes and shapes, and it looks like a miracle that there is even a single slip open with enough space for The Shoebill.

“Got a real beaut there!” the man standing on the dock with rope in his hands shouts over to The Shoebill’s crew.

Serra positions herself behind Fenrir as he shouts back, “Thanks!”

“You talk to new people so easily,” Serra mumbles from behind Fenrir.

“You know, you didn’t seem too shy back when we were in the city. In real life or in-game.”

“It’s easy when there’s a bunch of other people because I don’t stick out.”

“How am I supposed to show off my shortest girlfriend if she’s hiding behind me?”

Serra pouts and Fenrir feels her small hands smacking against his lower back.

While right now definitely isn’t the appropriate time to be thinking about this, Fenrir regrets not making himself just a few inches taller in-game. If he did, Serra would be at the perfect height whenever they are both standing up. Her head would be at the same height of his crotch.

Though, what he’s imagining is still possible thanks to the increased size that he gave himself in the necessary department.

“Where’re you from?” the man on the dock asks as he tosses the rope over to Fenrir.

Fenrir secures the rope on his end and answers with, “Nowhere in particular, really.”

“Just roaming around then? Exploring?”

“You could say that. But, we’re going to settle down over here, hopefully.”

“You mean in the town here? Sorry, but we’re kind of limited here. It’d be hard to find an open plot.”

“Actually, we’re thinking of setting up our own town south from here.”

“That so? That’d be great! We could always use some more business partners.”

“Are there any other towns around?”

“We’ve got one up north some more and one to the east on an island, but that’s it. There were some more, but they’ve been abandoned already. Not everybody can handle the weather here.”

“Hurricanes?”

“Close! It’s what comes with the storms that scare everybody off,” the man explains.

“What do you mean by that?” Fenrir asks.

“I take it the folk to the west don’t know about it yet?”

“Well, we’re kind of new still, but we’ve never heard anything about this place other than that it was basically abandoned by the larger factions.”

“Right, right. They always like to leave out the bits about the raging storms and the creatures that come in with them. You see these walls? They’re for more than the wind and surge.”

“So vague,” Oleander says with a cutesy pout.

“Ah, apologies. Don’t mean to be. Anyways—”

“Oi!” another man shouts as he walks up toward The Shoebill. “That flying guy with you lot by any chance?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Fenrir answers.

“Figured as much. It ain’t often we see new folk around here, especially not in the same day. Tried waving him down to greet him, but he just flew away.”

“Sorry about that. He didn’t mean to be rude or anything. We just sent him flying up here to see if he could find any towns.”

“Gotcha. Where’s he at now? Ain’t often we see flying mounts!”

“Back with our friends south of here,” Fenrir says despite Oleander trying to signal Fenrir not to say anything. While Fenrir may trust the men here, Oleander doesn’t yet.

Oleander would rather not give away all of their information for nothing in exchange, especially when that information is letting them know that they don’t have all of their force with them. The weaker they appear, the more danger that they might be in.

“So, what brings you all here?” the second man asks.

“They want to build a new town south of here!” the first man asks.

“That so? Have you told them about the storms?”

“Yup. Doesn’t seem to be bothering them too much, though.”

Fenrir’s tail would be wagging if it wasn’t for Serra standing behind him with her hands gripping the back of his clothes, blocking his tail in and causing it to constantly brush up against her face. While she wasn’t planning on trapping his tail like this, she doesn’t regret it. Having something as soft, fluffy, and large as his tail brushing against her face just makes her feel happy and relaxed.

She’s starting to understand why her boyfriend is so obsessed with staying fluffy and clean all the time. Fluff looks nice, it feels nice, it makes her feel relaxed.

Fluff is good for the soul.

While Serra practically melts where she stands all thanks to the supreme fluff of Fenrir’s wagging tail against her, Corwin stands next to Fenrir to join in on the conversation.

“What makes you want to build a town over here?” the second man asks.

“I want it to be a safe haven for AIs away from all the bullshit going on with all the faction-run cities, and I figured that it’d be nice to be away from the factions in the first place. I don’t have any interest in all that war stuff and political drama,” Fenrir explains.

Oleander has to look away and try not to laugh from just how much of a lie that is. Or rather, it might not be a lie, but he knows that Fenrir loves those things when they actually pop up. He just likes to say that he doesn’t love them now.

“You came to the right place then!” the first man says. “No politics, no drama, and the only fighting that happens with us three towns is against the weather. Well, and anything that comes down from the mountains. Never know when a dragon is going to get cranky or want to go fishing.”

Did Fenrir hear that correctly? Dragons fishing?

Wait, his favorite serpent might be in trouble if a dragon goes fishing.

But, as much as he’s worried for the serpent, he’s really excited to potentially get to see dragons.

What if there are dragon monster girls?

What if he can get one of his girlfriends, or all of them, to turn into dragon monster girls? With horns, wings, sharp fangs, maybe some scales here and there – though, when he thinks about it, he can’t imagine any of them as dragon girls. When Fenrir thinks of a dragon monster girl, he thinks tall, muscular, violent, fire-breathing, tomboyish, and spiky.

None of his girlfriends really match those. Cassiel would be the closest to it since she used to be violent in her tsundere moments, but she’s calmed down and wants to continue improving herself to be less violent.

“You alright there?” the first man asks Fenrir.

Fenrir doesn’t know it, but he’s been standing in place, totally silent, for about a minute as he’s been trying to picture his girlfriends as different types of monster girls the entire time. The only one who would probably even want to become like a dragon is Azalabulia, and – wait, she’s not even his girlfriend! Yet. He thinks. He isn’t sure, actually. With how suddenly she woke from virtual reality earlier, he has no idea what their current standing with one another is.

“Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought. You guys said dragons?” Fenrir asks.

“Aye. You see those mountains?” the second man asks, pointing beyond the town to the towering, snow-capped mountains in the distance. “Everything beyond those peaks may as well be considered one massive, end-game raiding zone. You aren’t going to find stronger monsters anywhere else except for the four, great serpents. Sometimes, they get bored of hanging around the mountains and come down here. They don’t usually care about the towns, thankfully, so you shouldn’t have to worry about your future town. Just gotta worry about the storms and what they bring.”

“Taming a giant dragon sounds fun,” Oleander says with his hands on the back of his head. “It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to fly a dragon in a game.”

“They’d probably try to eat you whole just for thinking about that, little deer.”

Oleander’s eyes go wide before he turns to look up at Corwin. “Cor! I want you to call me that sometimes! It sounds super cute!”

“Al-alright, little deer,” Corwin says, earning a happy hug from Oleander.

“Anyways, uh, think it’d be possible for us to maybe buy some horses, crops, and other tools and materials we might need? We’ve got the coin to trade,” Fenrir says.

“Sure, but not with coin,” the first man answers. “We don’t trade with coin around here.”

“How do you do business between towns then?”

“We trade with items, food, materials – you know. For example, if you want a new shirt, you might go and trade a nice, big marlin for it.”

“So… fish can basically be used as money here?”

“You’ve got it.”

Fenrir now truly believes that this is Heaven.

He has even more reasons to fish now.