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

Chapter 14



Logan followed the road, taking a left up the incline where Liorna had instructed. He peeled his eyes for the strange house description she gave him. Mostly, he saw more cottages.

As he crested the low hill, though, the house popped into sight atop the next hill, just as she had described. It was perfectly cylindrical and made predominantly of dried clay, with colorful glass windows that shone with a faint light, casting ruby, emerald, and sapphire glows in the suspended dust haze. A crooked chimney rose from the conical top, branching like inverted lightning and ending in three separate stacks.

In the depression between the two gentle slopes sat the Adventurers' Guild, also true to Liorna's word. The building itself was grand in its lengthy sprawl and ornate trim, but otherwise plain and rectangular with a flat roof. It reminded Logan of a modernized elementary school with greco-roman influence. Fresh and pristine, it showed no sign of dirt.

A wide field extended behind the Adventurers' Guild, covered in splotchy grass left by extensive foot traffic. Structures populated the flat stretch at various intervals, making it look like a boot camp obstacle course. Some were familiar, including cargo nets, wall climbs, low crawls, and hurdles. Others mystified him, like the floating hoops, a big empty arch, and a chess-like grid with runes inscribed on each square.

His current vantage provided a decent view of the campus behind the Adventurers' Guild, and he ran a casual scan for loose chickens.

When his eye caught movement, though, it wasn't on the ground. No, it was on the flat roof. He pulled up his quest tracker again for the details.

Quest: Retrieve the chickens. (0/8)
Reward: 10 copper coins per chicken.

The high number of feathered escapees had shocked him, at which Liorna had looked abashed. She had explained he didn't need to find them all, and she would still pay per bird.

He considered the lone chicken on the roof, wondering if it was worth the hassle.

The bird at the village's entrance would be easier to scoop up, and the reward for a single returned bird would already repay Senna's loan. But he was sure he was going to need additional money to pay for an inn, which beat sleeping in a tree.

The real question was whether the chicken would still be on the roof when he finished meeting with the gnome. He recalled seeing a chicken hitching a ride on the hay stack carriage and decided these little plumed escape artists might not stay put for long.

After a slight hesitation, Logan veered off the main path and started winding around the back side of the Adventurers' Guild. Maybe he could ask someone for roof access.

He rounded the corner of the building. "Hello?"

Nobody was there.

Half of the fifteen-foot tall building's back side doubled as an archery range with targets painted on a corkboard veneer, symmetrically center-aligned along the building's length. Whittled arrow shafts of various thicknesses stuck out at sporadic places. At the near and far ends without the cork, tall windows dotted the stucco structure.

Who puts windows on either side of an archery range?

Logan approached the first bank of windows and knocked on it, pressing his forehead to a cupped hand to peek in. Still, nobody.

He tramped across the packed dirt in front of the range and repeated his investigation on the far side, but it was just as fruitless.

No crates or barrels lied around for him to stack and climb on, but arrows jutted out in thicker clusters where targets were painted on the cork facade. He pulled on one, testing how much weight it could hold. It snapped in his hand.

He winced. "Whoops… I'll just set you down right here," he said, patting the broken shaft gently where corkwall met dirt.

The prowler claws clattered with the motion. Logan squinted at them, then back at the wall, and smiled. He had earned that climbing skill, hadn't he? And if his claws worked on tree bark, wouldn't cork be even easier? He gave the cork a test stab, and his gauntlet sank in.

That might work for hand grips, but the trees' bark and branches had provided natural footholds too. This cork exterior was completely flat, except for the embedded arrows.

Maybe that was enough, though. Sure, the arrows couldn't hold his full weight, but if he relied on his claw gauntlets to sustain most of his mass, the arrows might provide reliable footholds. Besides, it was only fifteen feet high.

He had taken one rock climbing class before deciding it wasn't for him. So many people in that class had experience, and he had felt like an odd one out. When Janie found out he had wasted money on the class, she threw her hands up in the air.

"You're wasting money at this point. Rock climbing? Logan, how long did you actually think you'd keep this up? You can't even focus long enough to set up a stupid Ikea table."

It's not like Logan had used her money for it.

He sighed and looked down at his pudge. That awkward class had been the last time he had visited the gym, too. Part of that might have been from the embarrassment of how often the instructor had to correct him on the difference between griphold names. What kind of maniac was responsible for naming crimps and pinches? Those were basically synonyms.

"I guess it's a good thing I can just make my own holds with these." He tightened his fist and his claws snapped to attention. He fixed the wobbly one.

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As he made the adjustment, he tilted his head and noticed he could tie his pajama pants a little tighter. Maybe all the climbing and running in the forest was helping him trim. He didn't need an instructor. He had reached level 10 on his own. Maybe he could reach the more difficult level 11.

On his tiptoes, Logan sank his left claws into the cork. It held firm.

With his right hand, he pierced the soft wall a little higher and then tried hoisting himself up. His biceps ached with the strain as his belly rubbed against the cork, adding friction. The lowest arrow wasn't near enough to the ground for him to reach with his one searching foot.

Red-faced, he retracted his claws and reconsidered. To his right, the lowest arrow was a little higher than where he first tried, but the shafts above it formed a relatively straight line.

With his claws, he dug out three shallow trenches (or were they pockets? jugs?) in the cork to cover the distance as footholds until he could reach an arrow. Then he tried again, and resting a foot on those little lips proved just enough. Still, the strictly vertical, flat grade challenged him more than curved trunks with ample natural grooves, and his shoulders ached as he pulled himself up.

The moment of truth came when he left his third cork-made foothold and stepped on an arrow. He smirked when it supported him. It creaked slightly, but he pressed most of his weight into his hands and used that belly friction in his favor to ease strain on the arrow. He continued, pausing every few rungs to catch his breath.

Halfway up, and as he removed one hand to plunge it at a higher point, an arrow snapped under his right foot and he wobbled until he reinserted his gauntlet. He glanced down and grimaced at the revised distance he needed to cover to secure his right foot.

Worse, his downward check revealed just how pathetic his vertical gain looked. He could jump down from here without getting hurt. Heck, he could jump from the roof without pain, which was ironic considering the pain his shoulders endured holding him up. Why not hop down and just find another chicken later?

Just then, a cluck overhead snagged his attention. The ignorant chicken bobbed its head twice, bokked again, then ambled away.

Logan grumbled. "That's it, I'm getting this chicken, one way or another." He hoisted himself and, in a last-ditch effort, hauled himself over the top eave.

On the roof, he rolled over flat on his back and flopped his weary arms haphazardly.

Climbing is level 11!

"Yeah, what about chicken herding?"

The System apparently did not grant any such skill.

With his breath recovered, Logan stood and approached the chicken. It fluttered away each time he took a step.

Time to put my next skill to use.

Once the chicken looked away, he entered stealth mode. To his surprise, it actually worked, despite being on a flat roof with no cover to hide behind. He didn't gain any levels, but as long as the chicken faced away, he remained undetectable. Perhaps his Stealth's skill level crossed some hidden threshhold of the chicken's Perception.

Name: Chicken
Type: Bird
Level: 1
Lore: A common farm bird, known for its eggs and meat and surprisingly quick reflexes. Often found roaming for food or shelter.

When he crouched two feet behind the chicken, though, the air hummed. A purple glow gathered in front of the bird, causing it to squawk and bolt to the right just as Logan lunged for it. He tried to split his focus between the runaway chicken and the coalescing light, but the purple glow quickly grabbed his full attention. In front of him, the thickening darkness swirled into a silhouette.

"Yeah, that's definitely not normal." He distanced himself from the anomaly.

The final wisp of deep purple vapor condensed into a bizarre creature. It stood on four legs with a broad forehead that curved and angled downward directly into a snout, like a doberman. Unlike a doberman, its body was almost nonexistent, with its stubby hind legs situated two inches from its front legs, as if somebody had surgically removed the stomach and slapped the front and back ends together. Jagged teeth revealed themselves from the snarling lips.

Name: Ripper
Level: 10
Type: Monster
Lore: Rippers are predatory creatures with serrated teeth and impaling fangs that tear through armor and flesh alike. Their unnerving, silent movements and unmatched speed make them deadly ambush predators.

Agog, Logan still paced backward when the heel of his rear foot met no resistance at the roof's edge.

The ripper growled, then pounced, and Logan ducked. The menacing monster sailed over his head, landing without harm. Logan snapped back from the roof edge and clamped his hands over his ears as a booming gong blared. From where, he couldn't say.

A shimmering pool of silver energy gathered at the Ripper's feet, and despite its stubby legs, suddenly it launched upwards, angled directly for Logan. Logan clenched his fist and met the Ripper midair with his clawed gauntlet.

Residual energy at the Ripper's feet flared, and it drifted slightly higher, evading the bulk of Logan's attack, but not completely.

Logan swiped its side, and purple gasses hissed out, but the Ripper's jagged fang raked his forearm, leaving a gnarled cut. Gritting his teeth, Logan crouched low, his right arm still extended from the strike. His left arm swept out in a wide arc, claws glinting as they slashed toward the Ripper.

His stance resembled a weightlifter mid-snatch, both arms spread wide in opposing directions. Though the blunt curve of his gauntlet claws failed to carve into the monster, the force of the backslash sent it staggering, tumbling to the ground with a guttural snarl.

Silver coalesced at its feet again, and Logan didn't wait to see if it would leap. He slammed his left fist down, impaling the Ripper's leg to the ground. More gaseous fumes seeped out of it, but nothing prevented it from craning its stout neck and sinking its teeth into his arm.

Logan winced through the pain and, with his other hand, slashed at the Ripper's face. His claws landed a sickening thud as the Ripper's skull crushed under his force. Its body went limp, but Logan had to pry its fangs from the inch-deep wound it gouged into his arm.

He was panting heavily when he finally removed the fangs, and the alarm gongs still bombarded his eardrums. The gasses from the monster released at a greater rate, and then finally the creature shriveled away. A glowing silver orb with a deep purple sheen hovered and bobbed in its place.

You have killed a level 10 ripper! Experience gained!

Gauntlet Mastery is level 4!
Gauntlet Mastery is level 5!

Congratulations! You have gained a title!
Monster Slayer I
+4 END, DEX, INT
What do you get when you cross a corporeal manifestation of a magical anomaly with someone insane enough to confront it? You! This path doesn't offer the greatest life expectancy, but it can be fun! Unless you die.

You are now level 5!
+1 END, +1 DEX, +3 INT, +3 PER, +2 WIL!
You have 4 free stat points.

Frantic footsteps drew Logan's attention down, where a short, thin, uniformed child ran into the open field behind the Adventurers' Guild.

No, not a child. Something labeled a wood elf. He wore gold-framed glasses that vanished into his pulled-back blond pony tail and made his eyes look too buggy for his pinched face.

"You! Up there! What are you doing? What have you done?"

Worried shouts rose from bystanders dotting the hilltop. The word monster carried through more than one panicked cry.

"Huh? I didn't... I..." Logan stammered before finally turning a bewildered look at the floating purple orb. "I don't know." His confusion melted into a broad smile as he muttered to himself. "Actually, I do."

Nearby, the chicken lay prone on the roof, stunned by the encounter. He scooped it up and tucked it under one arm before turning to face the elf below him.

"I just saved a chicken."


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