You have entered the Cesspool. Your level is too high for any quests.

  Oh well, that was a bummer. He wasn’t really here for quests, though. He was here to keep himself occupied. There was also the chance that the shadows would hit another one of the dungeons. He needed to get rid of them, but truthfully, he also had questions for them.

  He stood up after sliding down and started to dig around in his soul pouch looking for a torch. He wondered if he would need to activate his night vision power. Then he realized he should open the pouch Mischief was in.

  A second later, the mouse’s head popped up, and he started screeching at Tim. “What was that about? Give a guy a bit more warning next time.”

  Tim was too distracted to respond as a new notification had just popped open.

  Do you wish to utilize your familiar senses? So long as he remains within 40’ per level, you may use his senses in your own body.

  That was a no-brainer. Tim immediately clicked yes. Suddenly, the colors faded, but he could see much better in the dark. But, ughh… The smells hit him. He had thought this place smelled like a toilet before, but now it was all he could do not to wretch. Turned out Frank probably did him a favor by interrupting his dinner.

  His hearing had also gotten better. Other than the weird way of seeing colors, his senses were as good as they had been when he was a beastial. It was then that he heard a screech and saw a three-foot-long rat rushing at him.

  Tim instantly summoned his sword from his soul pouch and sliced the rat in half before it impacted him. There hadn’t been enough time to Assess it—not that it could be very powerful given how easily it had died. With the way this place stunk, the sooner they could move forward the better.

  He looked down and decided to leave his icy part of the entrance and head over to the nearest island. There was a channel of the dark water running between where he was and the island. Fortunately, a portion of it was frozen by his spell. So, Tim stepped onto the ice, moving quickly to the adjacent island of trash.

  Beneath his feet, the ice began to crack, and some of the greenish fluid leaked up through the ice. It got on his boots, but he just took the final bounding step to reach the semi-solid ground of the island. He reached down to wipe the liquid off his boots. Wet feet would just make him miserable.

  As soon as he touched the liquid, his fingers began to burn, and he got a notification.

  You have resisted Cess Poison.

  Oh, just beautiful. Not only was he going to have to fight his way through the islands of trash and overgrown rodents, but he was also going to have to deal with streams of poison. Tim had to laugh. This was only an E rank dungeon. Thankfully, the poison was likely too weak to affect him. This same setup could have been deadly if it was more potent.

  CHAPTER 40

  CLEANING UP THIS MESS

  Tim looked around. The mounds upon the little island that he had jumped to were refuse, shredded clothing, etc. It was disgusting but nothing for him to worry about. He simply wanted to find and clear the monsters. He saw rats moving around the other islands. They were so thick it was like roaches crawling over spilled ice cream. Time for some magic. Hacking them to pieces one at a time was going to take too long.

  He assessed one of the rats. They all seemed similar—about three feet long with mangy fur.

  Waste Rats

  Level: 2

  Nest Creatures

  HP: 20

  “Hey, I thought you were gonna let me kill some of the rats.”

  Tim looked down at Mischief. His first thought was to say no—he wasn’t sure what the mouse could actually handle—but it was unlikely they would face many lower-level threats. So now was the best time. “Okay, you can fight beside me.”

  Tim knew there was no way that the island he was on had no rats on it. They must just be hiding. Hopefully, an Ice Blast would flush them out. He raised his hand and fired the ice blast so it struck a dozen feet from him. The mushy ground exploded up from the force of the impact, and then shards of ice pelted the rest. With that one blast he killed seventeen of the rats, but more came running out.

  In a flash, Mischief was upon one of them. His smaller frame allowed him to get on the back of a rat. He bit down, and the rat bucked in the throes of pain, trying to shake the familiar off him. Bite after bite cut into the larger creature’s back until the spine was severed, and the rat fell.

  While Tim didn’t get any XP from killing 17 of the monsters, Mischief got a great amount from killing a monster a level above him. Tim kept slicing away at them until only three remained. Tim said, “You handle those three. Call if you need help.” Then he fired an Ice Blast off at the next closest trash island.

  With his mana regen at 35, he regained the 20 mana required to cast an Ice Blast in just over thirty seconds. When he wasn’t firing off a spell, he kept watch on Mischief. He didn’t need to worry, though. The mouse sprang from one rat to the next, and they barely landed a hit on Mischief. Even when they did hit him, the protective bubble absorbed the damage.

  Tim had time to look at his notifications between casting spells. It looked like Mischief was hitting for 4-6 damage each bite or 12 with a crit. In less than a minute, he had finished off his fourth rat. He was strutting his stuff as he had now reached 200 XP.

  Looking down at his familiar, Tim said, “I take it you like XP.”

  “Such a rush. It's even worth tasting those nasty rats. You know they taste like—”

  Tim cut him off. “I don’t need to know what they taste like. I’ll leave that to you.”

  “Oh no, we need to share and share alike. We’re partners, remember. I’ve only been sharing my sight, hearing, and sense of smell. But maybe you’d like to know what the inside of my mouth tastes like.”

  Mischief wiggled his pink nose, and suddenly, the most awful taste he had ever experienced filled Tim’s mouth. He was instantly gagging followed by forceful vomiting. Between the waves of his turning stomach, Tim said, “Turn it off.”

  Mischief was rolling around in the trash and mud making a peculiar sound. As Tim focused, he realized it was mouse laughter. Oh, he wanted to think about glue boards and giant mouse traps but couldn’t focus on anything other than the nastiness in his mouth.

  Then as quickly as it had appeared, it dropped away. He even noticed that his sense of smell dulled back to normal human levels. He pulled out a waterskin from his soul pouch and was downing it along with some jerky. Anything to remove the remnants of that taste.

  “That wasn’t funny!” Tim snapped at his familiar.

  “That depends on your perspective. Just remember, I don’t have the luxury of turning my taste buds off. It only seems fair. If I have to obey your orders, the balance to it is that I can lick my own butt and then make you taste it, so think twice about ordering me around,” Mischief said.

  Tim only nodded.

  Mischief leapt in a single bound to his shoulder. “Okay, my faithful steed, take me to the next trash island. There are more rats to kill.”

  Tim wasn’t exactly keen on being considered a mount, but there was no point in arguing now, so he cast an Ice Slick. Then once he was sure that it was stable, he headed across the stream of poison that was now partially frozen. Ahead of him, he sent another Ice Blast flying out. It did its job, killing two dozen rats, but more importantly, it stirred up the rest.

  Soon Tim and Mischief were up to their ears—well, at least up to the level of mouse ears—in rats. Tim swung his sword around, and each blow and even the backslash was sufficient to kill a rat. If they were close enough, he managed to kill more than one at a time.

  Long before they cleared this island, Tim got another notification, but he ignored it until they were the only living things on their current mound of refuse. This dungeon really was disgusting, but there were only seven more of these trash islands in view. It wouldn’t take more than another ten minutes to clear it—less if he was willing to expend more of his mana.

  While waiting for his mana to finish regenerating, he checked out the notification.

  Your familiar, Mischief, has gained a level. He has one free stat point for you to assign.

  As a secondary benefit, his length has increased by 20% and his weight by 70%. This is known as Battle Mode. He may revert to Scout Mode at any time either he or you chooses.

  Tim said, “Looks like I get to assign your stat point. Oh, congrats on dinging a level.”

  “Dinging?” the mouse asked before wrinkling his ears and then suddenly saying, “Oh, like from one of your video games. Gotcha. So you are gonna let me choose my own stats, right?”

  “Yes, I’m going to let you choose your stats, but you talk so fast you didn’t even give me the chance to offer it to you first. Do you want to talk about it or just keep killing these things? You seem to be doing well, and your shield still has enough HP.”

  “I’m in murder hobo mode, so let’s just keep going.” The now larger mouse bared his teeth. He was still tiny, relatively speaking, compared to Tim or even the rats. The effect wasn’t exactly intimidating, but Tim wasn’t about to say that to Mischief. The familiar had already proven quite ready to live up to his name.

  Tim didn’t bother saying anything more. Another Ice Slick was followed by another Ice Blast, and within two minutes another island was empty. They repeated the process until Mischief hit level three. After that, his XP per rat killed was reduced down to 12.5. Mischief was growing bored, so Tim finished the last two islands entirely with Ice Blasts.

  Then they sat down on a patch of ice. It was cold but better than the trash. Mischief’s battle size had increased by another 50%.

  Tim said, “I think we should put the points into Acuity. It will help your mind and perception so you can act as a scout. I could also see an argument for Hardiness, as enough of it will boost your HP. But I will leave it up to you.”

  For once the mouse was actually quiet. “Would it be okay if we split the points between Acuity and Hardiness?”

  “Yes, it is your body. I may make the decision for you, but we are also partners.”

  “Yeah, that and you don’t want to taste rat butts either,” Mischief snickered.

  Tim just ignored him. He still felt silly arguing with a mouse. Anyone else there would have just heard his familiar squeaking. That or they would have thought him crazy for speaking to a mouse. Of course, they might just chalk it up to him being 1st gen.

  Tim thought about pointing out the advantages of specializing, but he just went with it. There were still many more levels to go, and he could bring it up later. Now he assigned one point to each of the designated stats. Then Mischief did something that was both convenient and alarming at the same time.

  He ran around leaping from island to island or crossing the ice slicks where they were still stable enough to do so. Each rat corpse he ran by, he looted. The treasures—and Tim used that word very sarcastically—were deposited directly into his soul pouch. Apparently, he now had to deal with the fact that a talking rodent had access to that.

  He decided not to worry about it as stacks of rotted rat hides and rat meat appeared in his inventory. Instead, he focused on finding where they were supposed to go. There was no notification that the dungeon had been cleared, so he figured there was more to do. His heightened senses finally found it. In the back, behind the last of the islands, where they were now sitting, there was a crevice in the wall.

  Tim walked over and examined it. The flow of air suggested that it wasn’t a dead end. Tim figured this was a perfect time to have a familiar. “Can you scout the other side for me?”

  Mischief gave him an expression that said, “Whatcha talking about?” It was bizarre to Tim that he could literally read facial expressions on a mouse now. Then again he was the guy who had been in four different bodies within the last two weeks. So this really shouldn’t be shocking.

  It took a second for Mischief to shrink back down to his smaller size, but then he was off running through the crevice. Tim refreshed his buff before sending him through. He even added Bark Skin to it as well. It was a relief that the two buffs stacked. Between them, Mischief should be darn near unstoppable by the monsters in this dungeon.

  While he waited, Tim cast another copy of Barkskin on himself. Then he settled in to wait. Surprisingly, he found that for the first time in his life he really didn’t mind waiting. This circle of the oak thing came with a real attitude change. He noticed as he looked at Mischief’s status sheet that while in Battle Form his pet gained a 50% bonus to HP. It would take more exploring to determine if there were other differences, but he was in no rush.

  CHAPTER 41

  FROM THE CESSPOOL TO THE CRYPT

  After five minutes, the mouse came running back out. “It’s a bunch of stone coffins and crypts. It looks like the dungeon has recently expanded. It has burrowed through the earth and created a second floor. I am still learning but I think the tombs there must be for some old nobles from long ago.”

  Tim grinned. An expanded dungeon was a bad thing. On the other hand, fighting undead was a classic RPG experience. He found he was actually excited about it. “Did you find any monsters?”

  “They were there, but they kept moving back out of my sight. I heard quite a few of them, but they seemed too small to be like the skeletons or zombies you are thinking of. I will say that it smells better than here.”

  Tim checked his mana and found that it was full again, so other than the two mana per minute drain he was spending for buffs, he was fully ready. He had to walk sideways and squeeze to make it through the crevice. It was unlikely he could have made it through in his beastial form, which was a reason to be happy about the loss of his favorite form.

  As he reached the other side, he got a notification.

  You are the first adventurer to enter the new expanded Cesspool: Floor 2 of 3. Special rewards exist if you can clear all the monsters on this floor.

  New Quest: Bring out the Dead.

  Objective: Kill all 22 monsters on the 2nd floor without leaving the floor.

  Reward: +200 XP, First access to the tombs of a now-forgotten noble house.

  That brought a smile to Tim’s face. Now, he just had to find what kind of monsters were down here. Mischief switched into battle form, and Tim walked forward with his sword drawn. There were two large crypt-like small buildings with metal doors on their fronts, and they were located at the end of a rectangular room. As far as Tim could tell, this room was about a hundred feet long by twenty feet wide, with a ceiling about ten feet up.

  There were twenty stone coffins in two rows between him and the crypts, most of which were in various states of disrepair. Some were simply worn, while at least half a dozen were cracked with their covers split. Strangely, he still hadn’t seen any monsters. Undead were rarely known for their craftiness or stealth—other than vampires or liches.

  That thought gave Tim a moment of pause. He wasn’t worried about any number of skeletons, but more intelligent undead could present him with problems. The choice was removed from him as a pale creature suddenly peeled away from the wall near the ceiling to his right.

  It leapt at him, flying through the air. At first, it seemed like an albino, flying squirrel. Tim didn’t hesitate and fired off an ice blast that sent it flying in the opposite direction. When it slammed into the wall, ice spread all along, but the monster wasn’t dead. Damaged for sure, but it was still moving feebly.

  That gave him a chance to cast Master Assess.

  Leech Rats

  Level: 4

  Undead

  HP: 7/40

  Both Tim and Mischief groaned at the same time, “Great, more rats.”

  That appeared to be a signal of sorts. Suddenly, they could see at least a dozen pairs of red eyes all over the walls. These rats seemed to have some type of camouflage ability. He would have to pay attention. At least, the quest told him there were only twenty-two monsters.

  Mischief leapt into action and finished off the wounded one. Ice was clearly not the attack to use. Simple math told him they had 50% resistance to it. So while he could still eventually kill them with it, his sword would probably be a better choice.

  He shouted and ran at the closest rat. Three of them leapt at him while the other nine moved for Mischief. Apparently, the mouse wasn’t the only one who felt the rivalry between the two rodent types. Tim’s first sword blow was a crit and ended the rat. His belt enhanced his attack speed enough that he was able to spin and send a second slash into another of his assailants.

  This blow wasn’t a crit, but it still managed to slice the undead rat almost in half. The third one got through and latched onto his leg, but Bark Skin helped prevent much of the damage. He could barely feel the rat as it wrapped itself around his leg rather than trying to bite down.

  Tim stomped down on the head of the wounded rat and crushed its skull, taking the rest of its HP. Just as he was focusing on cutting the one off his leg, he got a shock. Not a literal shock but a blast of necrotic energy into his body. It burned cold if that was possible—like both hot and cold at the same time as it ripped deep into him. Tim imagined this must be what Life Tap was like.

  The notification said that he took (27) damage from the attack. That was a staggering amount from a level four creature and more than a little frightening, but the calm of the oak took over, and he brought his blade down in a stroke so close to his skin that he could have practically shaved. Back on Earth, he would have as likely cut his own leg off with a move like that, but a grandmaster swordsman had no trouble slicing the creature in half.