Bruce was staring at the Thaumic Gate, peering inside, moving around to look in the other direction—disappearing behind the watery image of the Thaumic Strata. He was on the other side, engrossed in some aspect of the strange realm when Chris came within easy talking range—closer than expected due to the background babble of noises coming from the portal.

Chris was about to greet him, when a clod of dirt and grass sailed through the shimmering mirage. He ducked to the side, letting the dirt miss him.

“Careful!”

Bruce’s head poked from around the side of the Thaumic Gate. “Oh, hi Chris, you’re back, Sarah said—” Bruce paused. “What happened to your arm?”

Chris waved with his one remaining hand. “I punched a tree.”

Bruce gaped for a moment, then walked forward, rummaging through a bag at his side. “Doesn’t that hurt?” He held out a potion.

Chris waved the offered potion away, it was probably too weak and he could still feel the faint discombobulation of potion toxicity. “Nah, all Slime. Only have nerves in the arm when I need them. I’ll top up back in the settlement. Why are you here?”

Bruce put his potion back. “Well, everyone saw the massive plant, so we sort of assumed you were going full Jackass and the Beanstalk. What was that by the way? They told me to ask.”

“It’s a tower vine, has a tower at the top of it where you can get Class Skills. It’s useful once you reach Level 20.”

“Were there any giant waifus up there?”

“Why? Just why?” Not that he should have expected anything different, just straight to the waifus after the necessary social pleasantries.

“It’s a beanstalk in a fantasy world, I would never forgive myself if there were giant waifus up there and I didn’t ask.”

“Uh-huh.” Chris began walking back toward the gate of Kingscastle, Bruce quickly followed, jogging up next to him.

“So, why do you have a magic Stargate and— oh god, what’s that smell?” Bruce fell back, still following but keeping his distance.

Chris paused, wondering what Bruce meant. Then he remembered about his run in with the cat. He coughed uncomfortably, suddenly made aware once again that he needed to get cleaned up—the urgency of the fight against Varok has previously scoured everything but survival from his mind. He met Bruce’s eyes. “Catgirls, man. Ten out of ten would not recommend.”

Bruce’s face fell and his steps slowed even more. Chris chuckled.

“So, what’s with the Stargate?” Bruce asked.

Stargate? What was that? Ah, Bruce was referring to the Thaumic Gate. Chris glanced back at the structure which seemed to emit sounds of constant birdsong and rushing water. At its base were small hair-like chasms of cracked earth filled with purple light. Chris stared at the purple fractures surrounding it, wondering if they had spread, then dismissed his concerns. “That’s a Thaumic Gate. It leads to a weird dimension that steals mana from you.”

“Cool.”

“So, what’s going on in Hartshire?” Chris asked.

“It’s crazy. Everyone leveled up insane amounts against the Beast Horde, we just finished dealing with it actually. I got to Level 16, but it was hard to get past there. There have got to be crazy penalties for fighting things weaker than you. Oh, and some people have gotten titles. I got three: Living Landslide, Meteoric, and Prime Animaphage.”

“Congrats. Is everyone retrieving the Beast Soul Gems before selling the corpses?” Chris wondered if he heard Bruce correctly on the last title, it sounded like he got one of the first in cohort skills.

“Yeah. It was tricky to begin with, since we didn’t know where they were, but they seem to show up in one of several places—once you know where to find them, it’s much quicker. Philip bought a Skill Vendor as well, couple of people got Treasure Sight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s this skill that lets you notice valuable things. I think more people started picking up the skill when they saw those who had it cutting off random claws and teeth from the Gnolls. Powerful materials, I think.”

Chris nodded. “Makes sense. What did you get?”

“Five skills: Sprint, Leap, Appetite, Density, and Bodily Refinement. I can run faster, jump farther, eat more, weigh more, and my body gets permanently stronger when I eat monster meat. I already got five strength, and dexterity.”

Chris frowned, that last one sounded ridiculous, and ridiculously expensive. “Why didn’t I see that in the Skill Vendor?”

“I got it from the Prime Animaphage title.”

“How?”

Bruce looked down at his feet. “I tried swallowing a couple of the Soul Gems, like in some of those novels. Then I got a title and skill for it.”

“Aren’t the Gems a little too big to swallow?”

“Yeah, but they can somehow be swallowed despite that.”

Chris nodded, lost in thought. He wondered how many humans had found Beast Soul Gems by this point. Probably a lot—given that every human settlement would have been subjected to a Beast Horde. However, Bruce was the Prime Animaphage; that meant he was the first one to do it. The fact that swallowing a Gem seemed physiologically impossible would ward off a lot of people, but it was still the eighth day in the tutorial. Someone would have done it, someone should have done it.

“Did you tell anyone about the title?”

“Not yet.”

“What does the text say?”

“The first in your cohort to successfully consume a Soul Gem. +10 Luck. Bodily Refinement Skill.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A little bit, like a stomach ache.”

Chris frowned. What would happen if someone unsuccessfully consumed a Soul Gem? Somehow, he doubted it would just pass out the other side. And there was a luck boost associated with doing so. That seemed suspicious as well.

“Maybe you should hold off on telling people about the title from eating Gems, at least until we know it’s safe.”

Bruce hummed in agreement from nehind him

Bruce hummed in agreement from behind him, but they were at the gates of Kingscastle now, so Chris neglected to continue the conversation.

The gates swung open, revealing empty streets. Chris was surprised. He would have expected to see at least one of the new five humans between the walls and the roads, but there was no one.

Oh well, it gave him some time to recover, at least.

He encountered no one between the gates and the Slime Pitfall. He already knew that he could absorb mass from the Slimes inside, so he simply walked over, hooked the half-ruined grapple to the side and lowered himself in. The surface rippled below him, then held firm, as if he were lounging in thick custard.

Cool, green jelly flowed around him, easing into the cracks in his armor and conforming to his arm. Chris closed his eyes and let himself relax. It felt like aloe vera on his skin, a soothing tingle that spread along and outward as his arm reformed in real time. He cracked his eyes open for a quick glance. Bone was restored first. Chris tested his skeletal hand. It was odd to see the fingers flex, only to be followed by the first cords of muscle moments later. Sinew wrapped around the reddish cords before being perforated by blood vessels, wrapped in a thin layer of fat, and sealed with skin.

“That’s so cool, that was like something out of Terminator!” Chris blinked his eyes open, seeing Bruce leaning over with a delighted grin plastered across his cheeks.

Chris closed his eyes again as more and more Slime flowed over him and he felt the dirt and grime that coated him drifting and lifting away.

He let himself float there for a moment more, enjoying the impromptu Slime bath, then reached up for the rope and pulled himself back up.

He gave his restored arm a flex, feeling thankful that it was always the right one that ended up getting blasted away. He wasn’t happy losing an arm so often—this was the fourth time in eight days—but at least the arm was replaceable.

He looked over at Bruce. “I might soon be exploring the Slime forest with the people here. Do you want to join?”

Bruce nodded and grinned. “I wanted to test out my abilities properly.”

“You and me both.” Chris began checking houses, trying to find his missing citizens as the sky darkened. He reached the last house, hearing voices and laughter inside.

There they were.

He pushed open the door, seeing six people inside. Six—five familiar, one not. The man had a dark complexion, brown eyes, and a bright smile—unlike the others, he was dressed in green, knobbly armor that looked like it had been stripped from a giant lizard. A gleaming scimitar hung at his side. As Chris entered, he stood and held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Amir.”