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

Mishki stared in horror at the prompt.

New quest available!
Risk your life to protect the last dragon egg from unspeakable danger at the base of the Abyss!
Reward: Unknown
Accept? YES/NO

A… quest? And a terrifying one at that! Quests were reserved for those called to action and greatness! Not a goble of his ranking! Before he could reject the absurd quest asking him to put his life on the line for an unknown reward, a second one popped up.

New quest available!
Overthrow the warlock and save the Aerudine!
Reward: Unknown
Accept? YES/NO

Mishki almost fainted. His mind raced to process the gravity of the tandem offers, and for a moment he wondered if he should check himself into the infirmary for hallucinations.

New quest available!
Deliver the last dragon egg to the warlock! Your actions will secure the unleashing of calamity on all inhabitants within the System and obliterate it from existence.
Reward: Access to the dessert table for one week.
Accept? YES/NO

This time, Mishki did faint.

Mishki awoke to a cacophony of movement around him. Gobles scurried back and forth, chittering with excitement. Through the haze of returning consciousness, he registered the rhythmic shuffle of feet and the occasional triumphant exclamation.

"Intelligence score?" came a voice, detached but firm.

"14."

"Hmph. To the left. Next! … Intelligence score?"

As Mishki rubbed his aching head, the monotonous refrain continued, with each acknowledgment from the interrogator sounding just as disappointed as the last.

Mishki groaned as he righted himself from his position half behind a crate. He blinked at the line of gobles waiting for their turn to volunteer their Intelligence stat.

Without thinking, he checked the blinking notifications in the corner of his eye and he cursed. The quest prompts appeared again. They had been real.

He scrambled out from behind the crates, heart pounding, and slunk toward the exit, muttering under his breath. "It's a mistake. Some horrible misunderstanding. I'm just a goble finding my place in the hive. A small, insignificant goble."

As he crept away from the queue, he overheard excited chatter from a cluster of gobles huddled near a stack of crates beside a massive stone pillar.

"I heard the reavers set it in the abyss themselves."

"Don't be stupid! Why would they place something so valuable in the middle of nowhere just to send someone to get it?"

Something valuable? Could it be the egg?

"The reavers aren't sending anyone. They don't even know about it. Didn't you hear them say to keep this hive-only business?"

"Didn't the reavers tell the warlock to tell them if he found anything unusual for the region?"

Soft murmurs broke out, and even Mishki flinched. The speaker had better hope the warlock never heard she was questioning things. But he hugged tighter to the pillar and feigned checking supplies, eager to understand what he had missed.

"Either way," said the goble, sounding unbothered, "I'm going to volunteer."

"I'm not! If it's so important, why isn't the warlock sending one of the elites? Imagine the danger!"

"Please, it's not dangerous. The warlock's probably just too busy and needs them here. Haven't you noticed he isn't using the furnace as often?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just that his plans are probably close to completion. And anyone can see the elites' stress levels have risen. I wouldn't want to be caught in their paths right now. Just look at that one."

Mishki looked up from his idle shifting of trinkets to see the elite in question storming down the aisle. She wore dark armor and a hollowed beast skull that clattered as she stomped. Mishki was directly in her path, and the furrow in her brow was deep enough to make Mishki's spine tingle.

In his haste to scamper away, Mishki tripped over his own feet and landed at her feet.

She snarled at him and drew a rod, from the end of which sprung an electric blue blade that sizzled with sheer energy.

"Apologies mistress, I—"

Mishki's rushed pleading did nothing to slow her weapon's plunge, but a large rat scurried out from the stack of crates and bashed into her ankle.

The same rat Mishki scattered crumbs for after every meal.

That seemed to catch her attention, and she altered her weapon's descent to target the rat. It hid before she skewered it.

"Out of my way," she said in frustration, and Mishki crawled to the side the fastest he ever had in his life.

Bemused, Mishki glanced at the crates. From the shadows, two beady eyes blinked at him.

Critter Taming is level 23!

"Thank you," Mishki whispered, and his rat savior vanished into inky darkness.

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Mishki ought to do the same. He tried to shoo the quest notifications, but they persisted. Why couldn't he just dismiss them like any other notification? Did he really have to answer Yes or No to make them go away?

He put more distance between the large queue of gobles and himself. Twice he had to double back on his path as he encountered elites. There was a larger number of them roaming the halls. Perhaps the people he had overheard were right about the warlock being near to his plan's completion.

He turned a sharp corner and was halfway down the small stretch of a corridor before skidding to a halt.

The only path this led to was the cramped stairwell to the furnace where the aerudine, Avalyn, still lay bound.

Footsteps approached, and Mishki glanced behind him to see two silhouettes flicker in the torchlight as an elite addressed a lesser goble.

"You! All able-bodied grunts are now required to present themselves. Why do none of your kind invest in the Intelligence stat?"

"Er, yes mast—"

"Go! Now!"

With nowhere else to hide, Mishki darted down the too-familiar stairwell before the nearby elite caught sight of him slinking in the corridor.

He waited in the foyer at the base, not wanting to intrude in the furnace area itself. But he should have known better. Proximity had never stopped the aerudine from finding her way into his mind.

And right now, that proximity was small enough that apparently the majestic being didn't need to rely on telepathy.

"Come, little friend."

Mishki took a deep breath and sauntered into the chamber holding the prisoner.

Even chained, she loomed, graceful, with expansive wings folded tightly against her back.

Avalyn watched him with calm, knowing eyes.

"You see them, don't you?"

Mishki swallowed. "The… quests?" He started sweating. "You can see them?"

The captive nodded, and Mishki's knees weakened as he involuntarily glanced behind himself. Who else could see it? The elites? The mere fact he had received these quests against his own kin felt like a betrayal to him; how would others judge him?

"Be not afraid, brave goble. No others know. The paragon I serve has shared this information with me, and in truth it is for this moment I have come here. To give this to you."

That word… paragon. The reavers served one too. Surely they didn't serve the same one as her. For beings this powerful to serve others… Mishki quailed at the implications of what he was getting himself into.

The aerudine's taloned hand moved at her waist and reached into the depths of her plumage. Then she produced a small, flat crest that shimmered with pearly light.

Name: Crest of Dreams
Type: Consumable
Lore: A gift of the gods, this crest imparts the Dream Affinity upon its consumer. May not be used if another affinity is present.

Mishki recoiled. "But I'm not a warlock!" He didn't accept the gift, and instead paced at the prison chamber's entryway.

Avalyn remained composed, unshaken by his panic. "You can choose to deliver the egg to your warlock, if you prefer," she said, her voice as calm as ever, despite the heavy chains around her limbs. "Either way, this is my gift to you. A token of gratitude, for the aid you have given me when I needed it."

Mishki's throat tightened. He had only meant to slip the captive a few stolen sips of water now and then, nothing more. A tiny kindness, barely worth mentioning. Certainly not worth some divine-infused reward.

But the aerudine's gaze lingered on him.

Hidden objective uncovered: Accept the Crest of Dreams, but turn it over to the warlock.

Updated quest reward: A week of dessert AND a dinner with the warlock.

"Dinner with the warlock sounds like a punishment, not a reward," he muttered.

Mishki turned his attention from the new objective to stare at the crest, its pearlescent surface shimmering like liquid moonlight. He had the distinct feeling that refusing it wasn't truly an option.

With a sharp breath, he gingerly took the crest, his fingers curling around its delicate edges. The instant his skin made contact, a jolt of warmth surged up his arm. It wasn't painful, but it was deep, as if something unseen had stirred awake inside him.

Item of Power detected!
Would you like to consume it and attain the Dream affinity?
YES/NO

With a contemptuous glare at the System prompt, Mishki nodded.

Dream affinity assumed!

After the tingle subsided, the quiet was notably awkward. The aerudine's smile was at odds with Mishki's jittery nerves, so he fidgeted and rubbed his elbow. "What now?"

"I believe that is for you to decide, brave goble. I cannot choose your quests for you." Chains clinked as the prisoner leaned slightly toward him. "But you shouldn't stay here." Sadness etched into the avian's face. "Their summoning is almost complete, and soon a monstrosity will wake from its slumber."

Mishki said aloud the name tied to one of those uncalled for quests. "The Devouring Coil?"

The captive nodded, not meeting Mishki's eyes. Having seen her weather so much else without shying away, her look of concern made Mishki lightheaded. But he shook himself out of it.

Mishki stammered out a farewell, and then bolted once more, this time up the stairs.

The tunnels twisted around him, the air thick with the damp scent of the lower levels. He ducked past crumbling stone archways, nearly collided with a goble carrying a bucket of murky water, and forced himself into side passages wherever he could.

But it wasn't enough.

The elites were everywhere.

They weren't looking for him specifically, but the increased presence meant usually empty halls were rife with activity. He weaved through them as best he could, hugging the shadows, shrinking his profile against walls, pressing himself into alcoves when the sounds of boots grew too near.

He glanced backwards as he left the shelter of one such alcove, only to bump into the bulkiest elite yet.

"You," the elite said, by fortune unbothered by Mishki's carelessness. "Have you been assessed?"

"No, master, I am on my way there now."

"Good. But it's the other way. I'm heading there now, so I'll escort you."

"Oh! That really isn't necessary." Why hadn't he just said he had already been assessed?

The elite didn't acknowledge him. He just grabbed Mishki's dirty tunic and dragged him through all the hallways Mishki had just slipped through unseen, right back to the room he had started in.

"There," said the elite, practically hurling Mishki into the line.

Another goble grunt smashed up against Mishki's back as others watched the line with keen eyes. There was no getting out of this one.

"Next!" barked the official at the head of the line.

Mishki looked up. The scroll-clutching goble on duty barely spared him a glance before repeating the dreaded question.

"What is your Intelligence score?"

Mishki's mouth moved before his brain could catch up. "O-one hundred and one."

Silence.

The official's brow twitched. A murmur rippled through the gobles behind him in line and clustered around, a few shooting him incredulous glances.

"I'm talking about your score on this side of the Boundary."

At that, Mishki flushed. His Intelligence was his pride. Nearly every stat had gone into it! Many scoffed at him, but his heritage boon helped the score scale, and he had the hive to keep him safe from danger.

"Yes," he said simply.

After a lengthy pause, the official gave a slow nod. "Approved. Proceed." He gestured to a door on the right.

A pair of gobles seized him by the arms and ushered him forward. He quickly gathered his wits and kept stride with their pace so his feet didn't drag against the stone. At the doorway, they released him, and he entered, accompanied by a separate goble who rushed ahead of him.

The room opened into a massive chamber lit only by torchlight. At the far end, the warlock sat atop a throne.

The goble who preceded Mishki scurried quickly, hardly stopping even as he bowed. He leaned in and whispered something to the warlock.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Shimki," said his colony's leader.

Mishki flinched at the mispronunciation of his name, but that barely registered.

The warlock's dark eyes gleamed with interest, his posture deceptively relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world to watch Mishki squirm.

"I have an opportunity for you to serve the glory of our family. You shall even have first pick of desserts all week, after me. Here are the details…"

Mishki was doomed.