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Greater Chaos Transformation Star x1

Inventing an Unknown Trap

Greater Chaos Mark x3

Greater Universal Chaos Attribute Embodiment x1

Greater Standard Chaos Talent Mark x2

Greater Personal State Embodiment, Measure of Order x1

Superior Standard Universal State x2

Greater Standard Attribute Mark x2

Greater Essence of Artificers x1

You may now name your Unknown Trap

All I read was the first line. Then, I noticed the length of the message. Only one thing could explain so much text.

We had done it! “Beko, stop!” I yelled at my companion, who was still fleeing.

He turned and moved towards me, clearly intending to pull me out of the swamp and carry me, though that would clearly reduce his already poor chances at escape.

When he saw my stupid smile, though, Beko slowed down. Then, he stopped, and his eyes lost their focus.

He saw the message.

The ORDER would be awarding him prizes, too. Natives had long ago calculated that the rewards earned from the ORDER depended, among other things, on the difference in Degrees of Enlightenment (or Chaos Power) between the victor and the opponent. If you were a 5th Degree character, for example, and you defeated an enemy that was 20th Degree, you were entitled to quadruple the loot.

What level had the rukh been? I was too exhausted to bother checking. But Beko was at least a few times lower in level than the monster.

I didn’t count, of course. I was a level 0, and you can’t divide by zero. Well, you could, actually—as long as you didn’t mind getting infinity, every single time. The ORDER could hardly follow such math, since my killing a single kote would fill the entire world with loot then—whatever universe this world was in. Still, it did give me drops that one-of-a-kind warriors who had pumped their Measure of Order a dozen levels higher couldn’t dream of.

You have named your unknown trap “Sticks-n-Shit

You have named a new trap

Greater Standard Chaos Talent Mark x3

Greater Primal Essence x1

Greater Chaos Refill x1

I didn’t care much for the name. It just described what the trap was made out of. But I was not in any state to think of a more eloquent moniker for my invention. Other thoughts filled my head.

It was time to get a look at the beast who had made us run twice as fast as we had ever run before.

* * *

When the shape in the pit became visible through the fog, Beko started fleeing again. I almost followed him.

It was terrifying.

We couldn’t even see the pit. Only the trail of mud that dripped as we had carried it in indicated where the trap was. The entire excavation area was covered with the carcass of the rukh. I had never seen anything like it before—not even on the old pictures my mother used to draw for me on sheets of rice paper. It had something like a flattened spider body, with two rows of elongated legs. They were reminiscent of the stilts the wisps used to walk around on and to sense vibrations. In enormous dimensions, of course. Three times my height in length, and as thick as a grown man’s thigh. The beast’s eyes also looked something like those of the wisps. Similar shape, but not a similar arrangement: They were present on all sides, rather than only on one.

Even though the beast’s body was flattened in shape, the spikes had been unable to pierce it all the way through. The description from the Chaos encyclopedia had been entirely correct. The creature had launched itself from a point positioned exactly above the center of the pit. It had slammed down with all of its weight. That alone may not have killed the rukh, but it had been unable to get out quickly enough to survive. Perhaps it was confused, or in shock, or even stuck on the spikes that pierced its body. In the end, either its wounds or the water did it in. It lay with its paws pointing in all directions, like the death dance of a disgusting, demonic daisy.

Wisps had gathered around. There were some seven dozen of them, at least. They formed a tight ring and stood, their thin legs stuck in the red soil. They did not buzz, move, or otherwise react to our presence. Not even my shout to the fleeing Beko caused a response.

The ghoul came back, albeit reluctantly, and joined me in staring at the pit. “What’s wrong with the wisps?”

“Their master is dead. Without him, they too will die.”

“But they’re still alive. Seems like, anyway.”

“For now. They will die later. Wait—no we have to kill them now! Otherwise we won’t get a reward from the ORDER for them.”

At these words, Beko pressed his hand to his chest with a triumphant frown. “I got my rewards already. And they’re mine. Mine! I ain’t giving them to nobody!”

“Yes, yes, they’re yours,” I sighed, “but you’ll get even more for the wisps.”

I threw a knife into the clump of bugs. One took the hit, deflated, and fell. “See, Beko? They don’t even react. Let’s go!”

The ghoul took a step back and shook his head.

“What are you doing?” I blinked. “They’re just target practice now.”

“I understand. I’m not scared of them. But you should be the one to kill them. You’ll get a lot of rewards for that, but I’ll get next to nothing. You get rich. Not me. You’re the one who needs to kill them.”

I nodded. He was right, after all. I moved towards the wisps, regretting my decision to leave my spear on the raft. Its long-handled stab would have come in quite handy here. Now, I needed to attack with the ax, getting myself sprayed from head to toe with bug innards.

Not to mention that, despite their newfound complete apathy, I didn’t want to

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