(Book 1 Complete!) Side Quest [Isekai / LitRPG]

Logan swiped his hand through the air, testing his rudimentary weapon. Crafting the clawed gauntlet had been a grisly ordeal, but the result? Worth it. Especially given his Measured Touch trait.

He had salvaged three severed paws—two front and one hind—for a total of fourteen razor-sharp claws. Ten were destined for his weapon, and the other four would serve as tools to create it.

Starting with the severed paws, Logan used one claw to dig out the talons from another. The process was messy, leaving his hands slick with cat blood and his grip unreliable. He slipped more than once, cutting himself on the jagged points.

"Well, at least I know these things still work," he muttered, wincing as fresh scratches marred his hands. Whenever the cuts piled up, he paused to Meditate, speeding along his recovery.

Meditate is level 5!
…
Meditate is level 8!

Once he freed the ten sharpest claws, he moved on to collecting materials. Thorned vines from nearby trees would serve as his rope. Removing the thorns was tedious, like opening a hundred soda cans with stubborn tabs, and by the time he finished, his fingers were raw.

Using one claw as an auger, he bored anchor holes into the bases of the talons. The effort left his arms aching, but the claws weren't the only things needing customization. He hollowed out ten drakla pits to act as settings, carefully carving depressions to fit each talon snugly against his knuckles.

Finally, he threaded the thornless vines through the anchor holes and wound them tightly around his hands, securing each claw in place. Logan tied the knots with practiced precision, the skills from his Boy Scout days finally paying off. He may never have earned enough merit badges to impress his father or finished his Eagle Scout project, but his past experiences helped him cope now.

"Mr. Simmons, I know I hated you for making me earn that Pioneering Badge," Logan said with a smirk, "but you were right. These are true survival skills." He tipped his head in acknowledgment and tightened the last knot.

With his masterpiece complete, Logan flexed his hand. The claws snapped forward with a satisfying snick. Only one knuckle wobbled, but he nudged it into place. A practice swipe shredded a nearby tree's bark to splinters.

Releasing his fist let the claws hang limp against the backs of his hands, safely out of the way.

It's like I'm Wolverine. He grinned, remembering how often people drew the connection between the superhero and his name, especially around Halloween. If I get my hands on more Gray Cave Moss, I'll even have his regeneration powers. I guess the yellow bodysuit can wait, though.

With a flick of his wrist, the claws sliced through the air, whistling sharply.

"Perfect," Logan said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

He didn't stop there, though. The gauntlet would make use of his Measured Touch trait, which gave him a 5% damage boost with manual combat, but he wanted to have a ranged backup.

He climbed a nearby tree and snapped off a long narrow branch from a healthy tree. The gauntlet made the climb simple, sinking into the bark without dulling.

Climbing is level 9!

Back on the ground, he took his time whittling out the inside pith of the branch. The hollowing of the branch released a fresh, earthy musk, which was welcome over the stink of the surrounding blighted region. He blew the shavings out from the center, and then held it to his eye, making sure the passageway was free and clear of bumps or snags.

He picked up one of the loose thorns he had stripped off a vine and put into the empty chamber. He held the stick's end to his mouth and used his new, crude pea shooter to launch a thorn. It whistled as it flew and vanished somewhere in the thicket.

Last, he used excess vine rope from his gauntlet crafting to fashion a small satchel from the panther's fur and slung it around his waist. It looked like a child's arts and craft project, with holes punched through fabric and a cinching cord to act as a simple drawsting. The satchel wasn't perfect, with the untanned leather still wet and reeking of blood, but it worked for now.

Inside, he stored all the loosened thorns he had collected. "Waste not, want not, right?" He appreciated the ingenuity of using every part of the animals and plants, like the Native Americans he had learned about in school.

Satchel stocked, Logan practiced a few more shots. He aimed at the panther's hide, and while the thorn sank in, it wasn't deep. Not that he planned on using the pea shooter to take down panthers.

He spent some time measuring its range. Between ten and twenty feet proved most effective. Anything closer was overkill, and anything farther barely stuck. The biggest drawback was reaching into the satchel for fresh thorns. The thorns pricked his fingers every time, and the satchel's wet, fleshy interior made his stomach quiver. Still, it was functional, and that was what mattered.

By the time he finished, the sun passed its zenith. He checked his status, not for the first time in the last couple hours, and beamed with pride. In the process of crafting his tools and weapons, he unlocked a new skill, which had come with a +4 to Dexterity.

Crafting (Uncommon), Level 3
Through patience and ingenuity, you've unlocked the foundation of creation itself. Try not to hurt yourself.

That Dexterity bonus had to be helpful for a weapon like this, so he was grateful for the bumps. He had also raised Climbing and Running both to level 10, but they stalled out there. He was confident level 10 was his new "easy" climb in a skill, and only Analyze had crossed that point.

With a satisfied grin, he tucked the pea shooter into his vine belt and surveyed his handiwork. For the first time since arriving in this bizarre, hostile world, Logan felt equipped to face it head-on.

Logan wanted to level up again. To survive, he needed every precious stat bump he could get, and that comprehensive boost from his other level up made him soar.

As he stalked through the woods, he caught no further sign of the apex predators and instead found only squirrels. The flicktails's levels appeared to be decreasing, and the squirrels finally seemed to respect him, keeping their distance, with only a couple lobbing a drakla pit at him before retreating at his feints.

Every once in a while, he paused for a dramatic slash at an imaginary prowler, adding whooshing sound effects just for the heck of it. But he was procrastinating, and he knew why.

If he had to kill something to get experience and level up again, these squirrels were probably his best bet. He felt conflicted by that, though, because he had nothing against them. They were trying to survive, just like him. But since the levels were decreasing, he couldn't keep waiting.

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He crept lower and quieter, creeping between trees.Troubled as he was over hurting those cute little critters, he came upon a group of three. One was Level 11, and the other two were 6 and 7. He slowed and observed, wanting to find the best opening.

The largest of the three squirrels gnashed his buckteeth at the two smaller ones, who cowered from him. Then the big one batted them away with his bushy tail while proceeding to pick up the remnants of half-eaten drakla rinds as the two smaller ones' heads sagged and tails dipped.

Dang. That must be an alpha. Even squirrels have bullies. Well, he wouldn't feel bad about taking that big one down.

Logan calmed his breathing and carefully planted each step, mindful of twigs and leaves. Unlike the wilted decayed foliage deeper behind him, the forest debris here was crisp.

Stealth is level 5!

When one little squirrel approached the brute, eyes big as it stretched for the last bite of its rind, the mean one chucked a drakla pit at it with such force the tiny guy buckled backward.

Logan took his opportunity.

He sprang over a moss-covered log and landed on the Level 11 flicktail squirrel. He stomped one foot on its tail and swiped at it. The shrill cry hurt his ear, but he had sliced clean through the tailbone.

Unfortunately, that also meant he lost his pinning grip on the squirrel. It threw two successive pits at Logan, who almost went to block his face with his fists before remembering his gauntlets. Instead, he swiped at the incoming missiles, which fractured as they met his handiwork.

Level 11 moved to leap to the nearest tree, but it fell face first. Logan had noticed the squirrels used their tails to propel themselves off the ground, and he had intentionally sheared this one's bushy extremity. Before it could get up, Logan drove his prowler claws straight through its spine. Its feet twitched for a few seconds before it stilled.

You have killed a level 11 flicktail squirrel! Experience gained!

Congratulations! You have learned a new skill!
Gauntlet Mastery (Rare), Level 1.
+6 DEX, +3 AGL
You can now deliver blows and wave dramatically without injuring yourself. True elegance. (That bit about not injuring yourself? No guarantees.)

Gauntlet Mastery is level 2!
Gauntlet Mastery is level 3!

Logan was panting from the primal thrill. It made him uneasy, and he stood up, needing to slide the dead critter off the talons. The other two squirrels had retreated to safety on an upper limb. They stared quietly at the slain squirrel, and even though Logan wanted to level, he didn't have the heart to attack them too. He kicked the remains of their scavenged fruit toward them and held his hands up in a display of nonviolence as he walked away in reverse.

He swished his lips from side to side as he continued trudging through the forest. His blood still pumped, and he sometimes let out another wild yowl at any rustles in nearby bushes, but mostly he kept silent. "It's not a big deal. I already established I have to kill or get killed, didn't I?"

When he made a cat-like hiss outside one rustling bush, he paused as the foraging stilled. Whatever was inside that bush was brushing limbs aside to come face him, not retreat. Logan settled into a lower stance in case he had finally encountered another prowler, but then his eyes drifted to a gear pack lying on the ground. His heart froze.

What if this was that Level 19 dragon lady?

Logan tightened his fist in a show of intimidation when a human hand broke through the foliage and thrust it to the side.

A girl emerged, a few inches shorter than him, right around five foot six. She looked about his age.

Name: Unknown Adventurer
Race: Human
Type: Person
Level: 12
Lore: Humans are the most adaptable and resourceful of all System-aligned species. While physically and magically average, humans make up for their shortcomings with unmatched versatility and vast numbers.
Strength: Inventive
Weakness: Harsh climates

Not the dragon lady, then, but could she be with her?

"Uh, are you all right?" Her cocked brow drifted down to his fist, and she lifted her hands as she backed up two steps.

"Yes. I'm perfectly fine."

Still wary, the girl squinted at him. "What was with all those weird sounds?"

Ugh, she heard my cat hiss. "What sounds? I wasn't making sounds." Logan loosened his grip, and the claws dangled down harmlessly. This girl didn't seem like a threat. "I think you might have just heard one of those prowlers. I thought I heard one a moment ago, too, in fact."

Her already arched brows arched even higher. "Okaaaaaay." She glanced at his hand. "What's that supposed to be?"

After an awkward pause, Logan clenched his fist, and the claws straightened. He had to adjust the wobbly one, but the effect otherwise satisfied him.

The corners of the girl's lips drew down and her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she regarded it. "Interesting." She poked the one claw that had wiggled. To Logan's greater annoyance, she did it unannounced.

He pulled his weapon back. "You should be careful," he said. "It's sharp." He pressed his lips into a frown. "Shouldn't you be concerned, meeting somebody with a weapon like this out in the wilderness?" Intimidation had, after all, been part of the value of his weapon.

Her chuckle grated on his nerves. "Why? You're just completing a contract, aren't you?"

"A contract?"

She nodded absently, still looking at his gauntlet, before finally meeting his eyes. "Yeah. For the Adventurers' Guild. They only just set up the Gnashridge branch, but it's drawn a lot of attention. Mine included. Well, mine and my team."

"Team?"

"They're still back in the village. I just dipped into the forest to forage for some mavenberry."

"Mavenberry?"

"What are you, some kind of parrot? And look, would you put those things away? I wasn't worried, but maybe I should be. If you're an adventurer, there's the code."

Logan licked his lips in the ensuing silence.

As it grew more prolonged, her eyebrows lifted in a slow rise. Without pulling her brows down, her eyes narrowed, and she smirked. "Go on. Ask it."

Logan swallowed. "The code?"

She shook her head and laughed. "Unbelievable. You're not from around here, are you? Don't even know how the Adventurers' Guild works, but heard it pays well?"

Logan kept tight-lipped. He still hadn't decided on his cover story. He was still between amnesiatic trauma survivor and reclusive hermit.

After peering at him, she shrugged. "Okay. Cautious quiet type. Fair enough. Look, if you're trying to level up out here, you really should join the guild first and make some money at the same time. Contracts give experience, too, without having to dirty your hands like that. You can get set up in Gnashridge Heights. It's not far. I can take you there, but just give me a minute." She turned back to whatever she was doing in the little bush.

Logan Analyzed the bush, but saw nothing about mavenberries. Then she parted a cluster of leaves to the side and revealed a dark red fruit with a silver sheen that looked like three cherries melted into one.

Name: Mavenberry
Type: Ingredient
Lore: Mavenberry is a small, pitted fruit. When concentrated, its juices provide an antidote to lesser poisons.

Analyze is level 13!

She muttered her next words to herself, despite addressing Logan. "I can't believe you came to get inducted, and you didn't even do your research or try to study the code. They literally only ask you two questions before admitting anybody into the Adventurers' Guild. Can you recite the code and do you swear to live by it?"

She shook her head and plucked another few berries. "My name is Senna," she said, making small talk. "You?"

"Logan." I wonder if I should have given a fake name.

"Well, Logan, hold this back for me." She waved a branch and Logan pulled it so she could forage another handful of mavenberries. "Oh, perfect. Another moonbloom nodule too." She pried the wooded knuckle off the bark, keeping it intact. Logan should have thought of that.

"All right," she said, clapping her hands and handing a fistful of mavenberries and one unbroken moonbloom pod to Logan. "That should be enough."

Logan held the assortment for her, waiting for her to produce whatever pack she intended to put them in, but she started walking. Then she looked over her shoulder. "Well, are you coming?"

They walked together in silence for a while. Eventually, she broke it. "So, you're not a crafter, I take it?"

Logan didn't know what a crafter was, but he wasn't about to ask another question. "No."

She grunted as if that had been the obvious answer. "Still, it's impressive what you achieved with that," she said, pointing to his gauntlet. "Interesting choice, only using natural items. Those prowler claws look high-quality though. When we get back, I can fix up that loose one for you." Then she winked at him. "I'm a crafter."

"I'm good, thanks." She hadn't sounded like she meant any insult, but all he could hear was his father's snide remarks. Screw him. He had done a fine job.

She snickered. "Suit yourself. If you're gonna join the Adventurers' Guild, though, at least let me teach you the code."