With Xanhilt’s help, John came up with a plan to see them off the tower and away from danger. Firstly, they would grab up some magic stones to help them now and in the future. Then they would see what the treasure chest offered. Finally, John would have Xanhilt use his heroic power to create an opening before they jumped from the top and make a run for it.

“How’s that?” John asked after summing up his idea with Xanhilt.

“Foolhardy. Dangerous. Deranged, even.” Xanhilt flicked at the air with his tongue. “But I’m growing hungrier. I don’t want to eat from dead flesh. That’s filthy.”

John nodded slowly. “Yup, that sure is.”

They took turns bashing in shambler skulls, which led to an interesting development for John.

Ding! Ding! . . .

Since the information was rapidly uploaded into John’s head, all he had to do was look back to see what the double-dings were for. It was like scrolling through a notifications feed.

Ding! Ding! You’ve defeated a [Forest Shambler, Lvl 4]. Experience rewarded.

You’ve leveled up from Lvl 6 to Lvl 7. Congrats, John! Make sure to allocate your unspent attribute points. Every level up is an opportunity to grow stronger.

John studied the message for a few seconds. Then he scrolled back and looked at the more personified messages he had received prior. To him, it seemed the system had an automatic process that ran when John achieved specific goals. But when he first got to Urmatia, someone was obviously speaking to him through the system directly.

Crack!

Xanhilt killed another shambler before ripping the pouch from its neck. He was getting better at killing the monsters now that he was Lvl 5.

John dangled the new pouch he had taken off his last kill. He sifted through the insides, whistling. “I got one mana stone and one stamina stone here. I might have to use the mana stone to help cool my head down more.”

“That’s understandable,” Xanhilt said. “I have a vitality stone. If we string up a pouch for each stone type, it’ll be easier to differentiate them when we require a specific one.”

“You were a nerd back in your world, huh?” John asked.

“An intellectual, yes,” Xanhilt said.

“Whatever, man. It’s always good to have a nerd around.”

Xanhilt turned as if to hide his smile.

John continued to take turns bashing in shambler heads with Xanhilt. Soon enough, Xanhilt cheered out when he leveled up again from Lvl 5 to Lvl 6. Sometime later, John went from Lvl 7 to Lvl 8.

“They’ve stopped,” Xanhilt said.

“The staircase is all smashed up,” John said.

The saurian was about to say something when a loud guttural growl sounded behind them. It was unlike the raspy moans of all the shamblers John had faced so far. Moving to the edge, John looked over and saw something that chilled him deep to the bone.

It was a [Mauling Shambler, Lvl 15].

Unlike the other shamblers that were around John’s height, this one was a foot taller. It was bulky, similar to a bodybuilder, but far more disproportionate. It had a little head and one giant shoulder attached to an arm as big as Xanhilt. Maybe bigger. It wore ratty overalls, which suggested it had been a farmer. One could say this shambler was not here to reap crops but lives.

It cocked back its giant arm and punched the tower. Thud! The entire structure shook from the impact, which should be impossible. How could one monster do that? It had to be incredibly strong with attribute points allocated into [Strength] and [Resilience] mostly.

John heard the ancient stones groan in protest. The other shamblers rasped as if cheering the big one on while they all attacked together. Maybe the [Mauling Shambler] couldn’t take this place down on its own. But if they all worked on it in unison…

This place is going to fall soon, John thought.

Xanhilt peered over the edge with child-like wonder. The big shambler punched the tower again. The saurian bounced against the tower’s perimeter wall and stumbled back. John had to hold the perimeter to steady himself. He didn’t start moving again until the tower stopped shaking.

“The gods damn us,” Xanhilt hissed.

“Whoever’s damning us, we’ve got to do something about it,” John said. “Where we’re at on the stones? I lost count.”

“Between the two of us: 11 vitality stones, 7 stamina stones, 5 mana stones, and 3 essence stones in total. That’s not including all the coppers.”

Both of their rope belts were heavy with loot-bearing pouches, splitting the haul evenly unless an odd number stood out. John had tried to push Xanhilt to have more, but the saurian insisted John should have more.

In Xanhilt’s words, You’re more of a fighter than me. You’ll probably expend more energy and require more stones.

John thought over his part in this as he touched on each pouch, triple-checking just in case. Five in total. The copper pouch was the heaviest, of course. He had that positioned toward the back of his waist.

He was positioning his essence stones when another tower-trembling strike stumbled him. The structure groaned and swayed, shaking John’s heart and giving rise to fear. When all was still again, John’s thoughts on the essence stones shifted.

“I think I should use these now,” John said, pulling out the milky white stones.

“Here, take mine then,” Xanhilt offered.

John grimaced, finding it unfair to take everything for himself. But Xanhilt had an earnest look on his face that told him it was okay. In the end, Xanhilt had a point. John was the fighter. Their situation required him to be as strong as possible.

With their window to escape closing, John smashed all three essence stones under his boot heel. White sparkly magic swirled around his body. Checking his interface, he saw three unspent attribute points were waiting for his allocation.

“I’m going to invest in [Strength] for this. The faster I can kill them, the better.”

“Sounds appropriate,” Xanhilt said, “Although grisly.”

Yeah, this game is getting me to adapt fast, John thought. But I rather adapt fast than die fast.

Since their pouches for essence stones were empty, they filled those with coppers to distribute the weight on each side of their waists. John almost wanted to throw away the coppers to lighten the load. But he figured the currency might help later when they eventually reached civilization.

If we reach civilization.

Another punch shook the tower. It continued to stay up for the meanwhile.

John turned his attention to the [Treasure Chest, Good]. It was brown wood and black bands of metal. It looked like something straight out of a game. From where John stood, he couldn’t find a lock on it. He had a hard time believing it was going to help them. So far, every part of John’s day had seen him face bad situations.

“We could avoid it if you think it’ll do us harm,” Xanhilt said. “I am a little familiar with how games work, but I was mostly into books.”

Another mauling punch. The tower trembled. Blocks of stone clattered somewhere below. The tower groaned for a few seconds too long for John, stretching his nerves thin. He sighed deeply.

He threw a random rock at the treasure chest.

“Loot is fun, man,” Reggie said through the game’s voice-call system.

“It’s alright.” John made his warrior character run around to collect valuables from the dead monsters they had slain. “It’s just picking up random stuff. Nothing much to it.”

“It’s not random, though,” Reggie said passionately. “It’s all tailored for what you might need now or in the future. That’s what makes games cool, you know? They got a structure to it that makes sense.”

“Until you get caught by a monster treasure chest,” John said. “Which is kinda stupid. How do you fall for that?”

“It can happen if you’re not careful,” Reggie said. “You’re lucky you got me to give you tips. Or you would’ve fallen for that trap like a noob and get eaten.”

“Please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me, please don’t eat me,” John repeated, observing the treasure chest carefully.

Xanhilt looked from the treasure chest to John and back. He furrowed his scaly brow in silent contemplation, keeping his thoughts to himself.

They waited at the top of the rickety tower as the shamblers attacked the walls. More stone blocks crumbled somewhere below. The tower groaned louder and louder. The floor under their heels started to sag a bit. The support structure was nearing its limits.

Still, John waited to see if the treasure chest would show its true colors. Seconds passed. The tension inside of him grew. The shamblers kept attacking the tower. Xanhilt fidgeted about. Their safe position from the horde shifted closer and closer to critical failure.

Still, nothing happened.

“It’s safe, I believe.” Xanhilt moved toward the treasure chest.

The treasure chest grew an arm and reached for Xanhilt.

The hand was almost large enough to wrap around Xanhilt’s torso completely. But John got to the saurian first. He yanked him away from the long bony fingers that ended with needle-like nails.

Failing to grab its prey, the treasure monster raked its nails across John’s side. His clothing did nothing to defend him. Scarlet droplets splashed over the stone roof. John cried from the fiery lines of pain running across his side.

“I fucking knew it!” John shouted. As he stumbled back with Xanhilt in tow, the [Treasure Chest, Good] changed into a [Low Mimic, Lvl 13].

It sprouted two spindly legs and another arm. When its trunk body swung open, the mimic revealed razor-sharp teeth slick with saliva. A long tongue lolled out as the creature emitted a burst of horrific laughter. The mimic’s voice made John think of laughing demons from the deepest depths of hell.

“Hit it with magic, Xanhilt!” John yelled, taking out a vitality stone as Xanhilt came forward with his palm out.

While they had been taking turns bashing in shambler heads earlier, Xanhilt told John his magic cores. One of Xanhilt’s cores had a nifty use for times like this.

“[Gale Stream]!” Xanhilt yelled, propelling the air in front of him to twist into a thin vortex. It was as thick as Xanhilt’s arm and blasted the mimic’s face with the power of a fire hose.

The saurian’s magic forced the mimic to stumble back toward the edge.

John crushed the vitality stone under his heel. The red magic stopped the bleeding on his side. He still felt off from having to endure such a surprise attack. He smashed another vitality stone just in case.

The tower shook harder than ever before, stumbling everyone on top of it. Xanhilt lost his concentration and cut off his magic. The mimic caught its balance before it fell off the edge.

The tower stopped shaking. It stayed upright.

John dashed forward and charged the mimic.

It slashed at him before he got close, abusing its long reach.

John ducked low and out of the way, a clean dodge. The sweeping attack whipped the air above his back as he darted into the mimic’s body. It hesitated for a moment, giving John all the time he needed to ram his shoulder against its center and knock it off the tower.

“Hah! That’s what you get!” John cheered.

The mimic’s long fingers snatched his arm.

“Aw, crap!” John cried.

He was forced to follow the mimic down, a prisoner to the monster’s grab before it slammed into the earth. As John followed suit, [Ratel Rookie] came to the forefront of his mind.