Chương 10: The Perfect Solo Warrior Build Is Boring

The soft hum of the travel trailer's air conditioner blended with the noise of Black Hollow outside. It was nine at night. Matt sat at the small fold-down desk inside G-214 with a mug of coffee beside the laptop and six untouched Passive Points hanging at the edge of his Status. Rook was already talking.

"People call this the Perfect Solo Warrior." The heavily scarred man on-screen somehow managed to look tired of the name before he even finished saying it.

"It isn't perfect. It is a beginner build. The name survives because the internet is a mistake." Matt took a sip of coffee, decided it had cooled too far, and corrected it with Perfect Temperature. Rook brought up a simplified Passive Tree behind him.

"This build does not make you clever. It does not make you special. It makes you difficult to kill and reasonably good at hitting things." He pointed at a highlighted route.

"For your first ten levels, that's enough." Matt leaned closer.

"Difficult to argue with that." The build was deliberately generic. There was no sword, axe, or mace specialization. No shield or two-handed investment. No critical-strike package, bleed package, or stun package that assumed what weapon a new Warrior would still be carrying twenty levels later. Instead, the first six Points went into things nearly every physical Warrior could use: physical damage, Life, Armor, Evasion, Strength, melee reach, and regeneration. Rook tapped the highlighted cluster.

"You can turn this into a sword build later. Axe. Mace. Sword and shield. Two-handed. Or one of the approximately six thousand terrible ideas people will recommend in a comment section." Matt smiled.

"That sounds about right."

"The important part is that these first six Points don't force the decision." Rook leaned toward the camera.

"New Delvers love solving problems they do not have yet. You are Level Seven. You do not need your Level Eighty endgame tree." Matt looked at his six unspent Points.

"You need to survive being Level Seven."

"That feels personal." Rook, recorded at some unknown point in the past, continued attacking him anyway.

"If you change weapons next week, this still works. Find a better Skill Gem? Still works. Your Unique changes how you want to fight? Still works." Matt stopped. That one mattered. Rook obviously wasn't talking about COPY, but it was exactly why Matt had settled on a proven foundation rather than trying to build his Passive Tree around six Unique Skills and ten days of experience. COPY gave him more possible directions, not fewer. His foundation needed to survive those directions changing. Rook changed slides.

RESPEC COSTS MONEY Matt already knew. It still hurt.

"So stop trying to be original before you know what the words on your Gear mean." The actual route appeared. Six Points. Exactly six. Convenient. Matt focused on his Passive interface. Passive Points: 6 The compact panel vanished. The Tree expanded. And expanded. And kept expanding. Matt stared.

"Absolutely not." It wasn't a tree. Calling it a tree implied there was a trunk, some recognizable structure, something that grew in a direction understood by ordinary human beings. This looked more like somebody had taken a galaxy, replaced every star with a decision, then connected them all with glowing lines.

Clusters stretched outward for physical and elemental damage, Armor, Evasion, Life, Mana, critical strikes, attack speed, movement, shields, one-handed and two-handed weapons, bleeding, stun, reservation efficiency, elemental conversion, projectiles, and several things Matt either didn't understand or understood individually but had no idea why anyone would combine. Some had names that sounded like the title of a metal album. He zoomed out. More appeared. Matt slowly leaned back.

"This is a tax form pretending to be a skill tree." Thankfully, Rook had anticipated the problem. His video faded almost the entire Tree into darkness and highlighted exactly six nearby nodes.

"Do not zoom out." Matt closed everything except the immediate Warrior starting area.

"Good advice."

"First Point," Rook said.

"No creativity." The nearest highlighted node expanded. PHYSICAL ATTACK DAMAGE AND LIFE Physical Attack Damage increased by 14% Maximum Life +14 Allocate? [YES] / [NO] Matt read it twice.

"Fourteen percent damage and fourteen Life for one Point?" He'd been mentally treating Passive Points like tiny optimization bonuses. One percent here, two percent there. This was not tiny.

"This is your foundation," Rook said.

"Damage so fights end sooner. Life so mistakes matter less. If neither sounds useful, I cannot help you." Matt selected YES. The node lit. A warm sensation passed through him, not painful or dramatic, more like his physical presence had become fractionally denser. Passive Points: 6 → 5 Rook's route continued through two consecutive Physical Attack Damage nodes, each worth another twelve percent. Matt took the first without much hesitation. Passive Points: 5 → 4 The second made him pause.

Not because the bonus looked bad. Because somewhere behind the glowing button sat a theoretical five-hundred-dollar undo fee. Then he remembered why he was watching the video. He selected it. Passive Points: 4 → 3 Three Points spent. Thirty-eight percent increased Physical Attack Damage already. Matt stared at the highlighted route.

"That escalated quickly."

"Yes," Rook said with suspiciously good timing.

"That is why you stop saving Points for your imaginary Level Eighty masterpiece and spend them now to survive Level Seven." Matt felt slightly attacked. Again. The next pair of nodes sat on the defensive side. ARMOR, EVASION AND LIFE Armor increased by 6% Evasion increased by 6% Maximum Life increased by 4% Two identical nodes. Matt frowned.

"Armor and Evasion?"

"Yes, both," Rook said. Matt looked suspiciously at the screen.

"No, neither number is enormous. Yes, that's intentional. You're Level Seven. Stop trying to become immortal." Matt spent the next two Points. Passive Points: 3 → 1 Together, the pair gave him twelve percent more Armor, twelve percent more Evasion, and eight percent increased Maximum Life. Rook brought up footage of two beginner Warriors.

"This is not a pure Armor build, and it is not a pure Evasion build. It's baseline protection for somebody who hasn't decided what they'll be wearing six months from now." He dismissed the clips.

"Build Armor later? Good. These still help. Build Evasion? Good. Find a Unique chest piece next week that changes the whole plan? These still aren't dead." Matt nodded. That was the theme. Nothing clever. Nothing explosive. Just things that continued working. One Passive Point remained. The final highlighted node was larger than the others. Matt opened it. MASTER OF THE ARENA Regenerate 1% of Maximum Life per Second Melee Physical Damage increased by 10% Melee Strike Distance +0. 3 m Strength +20 Matt stopped.

He read it again.

"…That's one Point?"

"Yes," Rook said.

"Okay."

"No, it isn't secretly bad."

"Okay."

"Take it."

"I'm taking it." Matt selected YES. Passive Points: 1 → 0 The node ignited. This time, the physical sensation was immediate. His shoulders shifted and his back straightened almost involuntarily. The coffee mug beside the laptop suddenly looked strangely light—not visually, but in the amount of effort Matt's brain expected picking it up to require. His muscles hadn't doubled or visibly bulged. Strength wasn't ordinary muscle. The System was adding something supernatural on top of the body already there. Matt stood.

His chair slid backward farther than intended. He caught it.

"…Right." He picked up the longsword from beside the bed. At STR 23, the weapon had already become comfortably manageable. Now he lifted it one-handed, turned his wrist, arrested the blade's movement, then changed direction with far less effort than before.

"Oh." Matt made one careful horizontal practice swing. The sword accelerated much faster than expected. He stopped immediately. The inside of a twenty-foot travel trailer was not the correct place to discover the upper limits of his new Strength. Matt put the weapon down and reviewed what six Points had actually bought him. His Strength had risen from 23 to 43. Maximum Life had climbed to 137. He now regenerated 1.

37 Life per second, had twelve percent more Armor and Evasion, a little extra melee reach, and nearly fifty percent increased physical melee damage between the generic and melee-specific bonuses.

"For six Points." Something clicked. The Passive Tree wasn't a decorative layer sitting on top of his character. It was part of the character. Matt had spent ten days fighting with a major part of his build sitting unused. Then a thought occurred. Probably an irresponsible one. Matt opened COPY and swapped Perfect Temperature out for Overmuscle. The C-rank Skill settled into the active slot. He activated it. STR: 43 → 63 Matt's breath caught.

The sensation was much stronger than the first time he'd tested Overmuscle. The Skill hadn't changed. The foundation underneath it had. His grip tightened instinctively against the edge of the desk. Wood creaked. Matt released it immediately.

"…Okay." Nothing had broken. Good. He deactivated Overmuscle. STR: 63 → 43 A completely ordinary beginner Warrior following one of the most common public builds on the internet could reach 43 Strength at Level Seven. Matt could turn that into 63 whenever he devoted one COPY slot to Overmuscle. And Overmuscle was one C-rank Skill.

"That's going to become stupid eventually." He closed COPY. Not tonight. Trying to solve every implication of COPY at Level Seven would be exactly the kind of beginner mistake Rook had spent the video insulting. Matt resumed playback. Rook was wrapping up.

"Congratulations." His voice contained no evidence that congratulations were intended.

"You now have the same first six Passives as tens of thousands of other Warriors." Matt nodded.

"Inspirational."

"That is a feature. Not a bug." Rook held up a finger.

"Do not refund these tomorrow because somebody uploads a thumbnail promising twelve percent more damage." A second finger.

"Do not buy a new weapon solely because a streamer killed an F-rank Boss three seconds faster than you." A third.

"Do not decide your build is ruined because somebody in a comment section says Evasion is fake." Matt smiled. Rook lowered his hand.

"And if this build feels boring—good." He leaned toward the camera.

"Boring survives." The video ended. Matt sat quietly for a few seconds.

"Okay." He picked up the sword again.

"Let's go hit something." Then he looked at the clock. 9: 47 PM. Matt looked toward the dark window, then back at the weapon.

"… Tomorrow." He had officially been a Delver long enough to recognize that testing unfamiliar combat bonuses alone in a Dungeon at ten at night purely because a video had made him excited was how cautionary stories began. Matt locked the sword away, finished his perfectly warm coffee, and went to bed. ◆ The next morning, Black Hollow looked exactly the same. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. That felt appropriate. Matt had changed.

The Camp hadn't. He ate breakfast alone at The Last Flask. The booth across from him remained empty. No Ethan arguing that fries counted as breakfast potatoes. No Chloe quietly judging both of them. Matt checked the Black Hollow Group while waiting for his food. BLACK HOLLOW GROUP Ethan: Pennsylvania has worse coffee Chloe: You ordered coffee at a gas station. Ethan: coffee is coffee Matt typed. Matt: incorrect Three dots appeared immediately. Ethan: traitor Matt smiled and put the phone away.

After breakfast, he returned to G-214, equipped his normal Dungeon Gear, checked his supplies, and swapped COPY back into a combat loadout. Today would be his final Black Hollow run. He wasn't hunting a Boss, Treasure Chest, or party. He wanted a controlled test. What did those six Points actually change underground? Thirty minutes later, Matt stood before the Gate terminal. He ignored the Group Board, although the instinct to check it was surprisingly strong after a week of starting every run with Ethan and Chloe.

Not today. A fresh Instance appeared. Boss Alive. Matt skipped it immediately.

"Nope." He was not turning a build test into another Boss race. The next option looked much better. Instance 112 — 41/64 — Boss Defeated Standard population. Boss already gone. Perfect. Matt selected it. The blue Gate swallowed him. The familiar pressure washed across his body before Black Hollow formed around him: damp stone beneath his boots, blue crystal light, timber supports, distant dripping water, and the occasional echo of combat farther down the tunnels. Forty other Delvers were somewhere in the Instance.

Immediately around Matt, there was nobody. No shield scraping against armor. No Chloe checking the route. No Ethan saying something stupid. Matt drew his longsword.

"…Right." He rolled his shoulders.

"Solo." The first Cave Rat appeared less than two minutes later. Its glowing eyes emerged from between the rocks before the rest of its body. It scuttled into the tunnel, saw Matt, and lowered itself to charge. A week ago, that posture had meant distance, angle, timing, sword position. Today Matt simply kept walking. The rat lunged. Matt swung. No Cleave. No copied combat Unique. Just a normal attack. The longsword crossed the creature's body. The Cave Rat vanished into ash before it touched the floor.

Cave Rat Defeated Matt stopped. Looked at the empty space. Then at his sword.

"…Huh." There had been almost no resistance. He hadn't made an especially good swing or committed much of his body. He had simply attacked. And the fight had ended. Matt looked farther down the tunnel.

"Again." The next monster was a Goblin Miner. It turned from the wall, raised its battered pickaxe, and charged. Matt waited until it crossed into range. One diagonal cut. Ash. Another Goblin appeared around the next bend. Matt deliberately let it approach, then struck before the pickaxe could descend. Ash.

"… Okay." Goblin Miners had never been Boss monsters, but during Matt's first few days every fight had demanded some amount of attention. Now they felt fragile. The monsters hadn't changed. His sword hadn't changed. He had. A low-grade Mana Stone rolled across the tunnel. Matt picked it up. Still money. He wasn't so strong that he'd become stupid. Several more low-level monsters died just as easily, so Matt started looking for something slightly tougher. A Stone Beetle.

Black Hollow's normal monsters were all beginner enemies, but the Beetles were at least more durable. He found one beside an exposed crystal seam. The armored body turned. Its legs scraped against the stone. Matt stood in the center of the tunnel. The Beetle charged. A week ago, he might have used Anchored Step if he couldn't avoid the impact. Today he simply stepped aside. DEX 23 had not changed overnight. His experience had. The Beetle thundered past. Matt rotated and brought the sword down into its flank. Crack.

The shell split. The monster vanished. One hit. Matt was still in his follow-through. He stared at the empty floor.

"Oh." A smile slowly appeared.

"So this is why everyone keeps talking about builds." Yesterday, he had been a Level Seven Warrior with six theoretical decisions waiting for him. Today, he was a Level Seven Warrior with a build. The difference was enormous. Matt continued deeper. Four Cave Rats spilled into the next passage. His body automatically fell into the habits Ethan and Chloe had drilled into him. Position. Wait. Let the pack compress. Don't waste Mana on two targets when four will enter the arc. The first rat entered range.

Then the second. Third. Matt shifted slightly to catch the fourth. Then stopped. Did he actually need to? Three were already in front of him. Cleave. Mana: 53 → 49 The red arc flashed. Three rats vanished. The fourth rushed forward. Matt turned and killed it with one normal swing.

"That's considerably easier." The lessons from the previous week still mattered. Better positioning still produced more efficient attacks. But the consequences of imperfect execution had changed. Missing one rat from Cleave's arc no longer created a problem. It created one extra sword swing. Power didn't eliminate skill. It created margin. That might be even more valuable. A party of four passed him farther down the tunnel—two Warriors, a Rogue, and someone carrying a short staff.

One Warrior glanced at Matt's sword.

"Boss is dead."

"Yeah. Testing a build." The man nodded as though that explained everything.

"Good luck."

"Thanks." They continued in opposite directions. Matt smiled slightly. On his first day, he would have had a dozen questions for them. Now he was just another Delver in a tunnel. The next pack was larger: three Goblin Miners, two Cave Rats, and a Stone Beetle behind them. Matt considered Overmuscle. Then decided against it. That would defeat the purpose. He wanted to test the public build. No SSS advantage. No copied combat Skill. Just Warrior. The first rat came quickly. Matt killed it. A Goblin followed. Cleave.

Two Goblins and the second rat vanished. The Stone Beetle charged. Matt stepped around it. The final Goblin's pickaxe came from his blind side. He saw it too late. Impact. His Life protection absorbed the strike. Life: 129 / 137 Matt stepped away, killed the Goblin with one attack, then finished the Beetle. Silence returned. He crouched to collect two Mana Stones. While he did, his Life climbed steadily back to full. 129 → 132 → 135 → 137 Matt watched the final point return.

"…Oh." No beam of light. No dramatic healing effect. Eight points of incidental damage had simply disappeared while he collected loot.

"That's really nice." At 1. 37 Life per second, Master of the Arena wouldn't replace a Life Flask after a serious hit. But small mistakes no longer had to accumulate forever. Matt continued walking with full Life.

"That might be my favorite part." He thought about the twenty additional Strength. Then the damage bonuses.

"No." He reconsidered.

"Second favorite." The next test was stranger. Melee Strike Distance +0. 3 m Thirty centimeters. On a Status sheet, it looked almost trivial. After hundreds of swings over the previous week, though, Matt knew the physical reach of his sword without needing to think about it. He found a lone Goblin Miner and stopped slightly outside that familiar distance. The Goblin moved forward. Matt swung. His brain expected the blade to miss. The attack connected. The Goblin vanished. Matt stared.

"…That's weird." He found a Cave Rat next and repeated the experiment from just beyond the distance where the physical blade should comfortably reach. Matt swung. The System recognized the melee strike. The rat turned to ash before entering biting range. There was no glowing extension or visible distortion. The sword had not become longer. The attack simply reached farther because the rules governing his melee strike now said it did.

"That is extremely weird." And extremely useful. Thirty centimeters looked small in a Passive description. In a fight, it could mean attacking without taking one more step into an enemy's reach. Matt kept testing. Rats and Goblins died in single normal attacks. Stone Beetles did too. Small groups disappeared to Cleave followed by, at most, one cleanup swing. The deeper he went, the more obvious the difference became. Not because Matt had suddenly become some unstoppable high-rank Delver.

This was still Black Hollow. F-rank. Beginner territory. But that was exactly why the comparison worked. He knew these monsters. He remembered how much effort they used to require. A Stone Beetle emerged from behind an abandoned mine cart. Matt struck before it finished charging. Ash. He laughed. Actually laughed. The sound echoed down the tunnel.

"Everything dies in one hit." Matt rested the longsword against his shoulder.

"That's strong." He still checked corners, watched his Mana, collected loot, avoided unnecessarily large groups, and ignored the dead Boss. But Black Hollow felt different now. Easy. Eventually Matt found a dry section of tunnel and sat on a rock beside an old wooden support. He swapped Perfect Temperature in long enough to cool a warm bottle of water and drank. His Life and Mana were full. His armor had taken no meaningful damage, and his Life Flasks were untouched. Matt looked into the blue-lit tunnel.

A thought appeared. Could he do an E-rank now? He didn't dismiss it immediately. Black Hollow's normal monsters were no longer challenging him. E-rank was only the next step. For the first time, entering one didn't feel impossible. Matt pulled out his phone and changed the Dungeon Search Database filter. Rank: E A new set of nearby markers appeared. Matt stared at them. This was dangerous. Not physically. Psychologically. The numbers looked achievable.

One listing had a recommended Level range only somewhat above his own. Another review mentioned experienced parties bringing lower-level members. Then a video thumbnail appeared. WHY F-RANK IS A WASTE OF TIME AFTER YOUR FIRST REAL BUILD Matt stared.

"No." He scrolled past. The next guide was more useful. WHEN SHOULD YOU MOVE TO E-RANK? Its answer was less exciting. There was no universal rule. Party composition, build, Gear, Unique Skills, and Dungeon type all mattered. Aggressive groups or specialized Delvers could move early, but solo beginners were generally advised to keep a safety margin.

One common conservative benchmark was roughly five Levels beyond the upper end of a Dungeon's recommended beginner range before treating the next rank as routine solo content. Black Hollow was recommended for Levels 1–10. Matt was Level Seven. He wasn't even at ten. Let alone fifteen. He could ignore the recommendation. Plenty of people did. But that wasn't really the question. Rook's voice returned to him. Boring survives. Matt locked the phone.

"Could I?" He looked down the tunnel.

"Probably." A pause.

"Should I?" Another pause.

"No." That answer felt even better. Matt wasn't racing anybody. There was no leaderboard, deadline, or employer demanding faster progression. He had become a Delver because driving around the country, exploring Dungeons, finding loot, and building a character sounded fun. There were dozens of F-rank Dungeons he'd never seen. Why skip them? Matt stood.

"I bought a truck." That settled it. The E-rank filter disappeared. F-rank returned.

"Let's use it." He pulled out a Portal Scroll. The mine vanished. ◆ Matt sold his final Black Hollow haul shortly before noon. A few Mana Stones, some low-value crafting materials, and one Magic item he would never use. Nothing spectacular. Matt didn't care. The real payout had already happened. He knew the build worked. He also knew Black Hollow was no longer where he wanted to spend his time. Back at G-214, Matt changed out of his Dungeon Gear, made lunch, and reopened the national map.

Yesterday's bookmarks remained. EMBERGLASS QUARRY — F Fire / Stone FROSTPINE BURROW — F Cold / Beast RED CREEK RUINS — F Undead / Ruins HOLLOW LAKE — F Water / Beast Pennsylvania sat to the north. The Academy had gone that direction. There was absolutely no reason Matt couldn't follow. Ethan and Chloe wouldn't care. They might not even be at the same Dungeon. Pennsylvania was an entire state. Matt hovered over a marker. Then moved the cursor away.

"No." He thought about it.

"I just said goodbye to them." Following their general route less than twenty-four hours later felt— Matt searched for the right word.

"Needy." He dragged the map west. Ohio. More F-rank markers appeared. Some were only a few hours away, while others would require most of a day with the trailer. Matt started opening them. IRONBARK GROVE Rank: F Theme: Forest / Construct Camp Facilities: Basic Hookups Beginner Rating: 4. 1 / 5 Matt checked the reviews. ★★★☆☆ Good dungeon. Bad camp showers. Another: ★★☆☆☆ Power hookup died twice in one week. Matt closed the tab.

"No." Dungeon Drifting did not require voluntarily choosing bad plumbing. Next. MIRROR CREEK Rank: F Theme: Water / Illusion Camp Facilities: Full Hookups Beginner Rating: 4. 3 / 5 Interesting. Then Matt read the description. Large portions of the Instance required wading through knee-deep water. He looked down at his boots.

"No." Eventually. Not immediately after ten days in a dry mine. Next. BURNT MILL Rank: F Theme: Fire / Construct Camp Facilities: Limited Beginner Rating: 3. 9 / 5 A formerly popular beginner Dungeon with a small Camp, heavy Boss competition, and reviews complaining about cramped main routes. Matt closed it. He had spent ten days in tunnels. He wanted space. Next. ASHFIELD ORCHARD Location: Ohio Rank: F Recommended Level: 4–10 Theme: Fire / Plant / Open Field Camp Facilities: Full Hookups Beginner Rating: 4.

5 / 5 Matt stopped.

"Open field." That alone sounded appealing. The public overview described large outdoor Instance zones patterned after an endless orchard landscape, with rows of trees, low stone walls, farm structures, broad paths, and an artificial sky. Black Hollow had ceilings. Ashfield apparently had horizons. Matt kept reading. Primary Damage Types: Physical / Fire His thirty-one percent Fire Resistance would finally matter.

Public drop tendencies included fire-associated materials, plant materials, physical equipment, and a broad mix of beginner Skill Gems. Good enough. Then the reviews. ★★★★★ Fantastic second or third beginner dungeon. Bring fire resistance. Open terrain makes it easier to see trouble coming. That sounded ideal. Another: ★★★★☆ Beautiful dungeon. Good camp. Birds are annoying. Matt frowned.

"Birds?" Another review: ★★★★☆ Great for learning ranged enemy awareness. Birds. Matt leaned closer.

"Why is everyone talking about birds?" He scrolled farther. ★★☆☆☆ Something stole an apple out of my bag. UPDATE: It was not an apple. Matt stared.

"… Helpful." One final review simply read: ★★★★★ If you hear wings, move. Matt stopped scrolling. That was enough internet for now. Ashfield was an appropriate Level for him, had genuinely different terrain and enemy behavior, would finally test his elemental defenses, offered full hookups, and sat only a few hours away. Matt opened the route planner. Approximately 4 hours, 15 minutes with normal traffic from Black Hollow. Long enough to feel like travel.

Short enough that towing the trailer wouldn't consume the whole day. Matt had never been to Ohio. That seemed like as good a reason as any.

"Ohio." He thought for another second.

"Sure." Ashfield Orchard Delver Camp was smaller than Black Hollow but had everything Matt actually needed: full hookups, a store, Mana Stone buyer, clinic, food vendors, showers, and laundry. Nothing luxurious. Enough. Matt reserved a site for one month. RESERVATION CONFIRMED Ashfield Orchard Delver Camp Ohio A small thrill ran through him. Not because the website itself was exciting. It looked like every RV reservation system ever designed by somebody who hated aesthetics. But the confirmation meant something.

Black Hollow had always been temporary. Now Matt was actually moving the trailer to the next Dungeon. He stared at the screen.

"The road trip starts tomorrow." His phone buzzed. Black Hollow Group. Matt didn't tell them yet. He'd do it once he was actually moving. For now, he looked around G-214. The trailer suddenly contained an astonishing number of objects that had to not fly through the air tomorrow.

"Right." Packing. ◆ Black Hollow's management office opened early. Matt arrived the next morning with coffee in one hand and his site information on his phone. The older man behind the counter pulled up G-214.

"Hayes."

"That's me." He checked Matt's arrival date and Level.

"Leaving already?"

"Level Seven." The manager nodded without surprise.

"Moving on or going home?"

"Moving on."

"Where?"

"Ohio." That got slightly more interest.

"Which one?"

"Ashfield Orchard." The man chuckled.

"Good luck with the birds." Matt stared.

"…You too?"

"What?"

"Nothing." The departure procedure was remarkably ordinary. The utility meter, departure date, Camp access, site authorization, deliveries, auction status, and service charges were all checked and closed out. Matt had paid for a month and used far less. The short-term contract wasn't generous about unused days. That was fine. The $950 site fee had never been the expensive part of becoming a Delver. The manager printed a receipt.

"Site needs to be empty before you leave."

"Obviously."

"You say that." The man looked up.

"Anything still attached to Camp property when you pull away becomes expensive." Matt waited. There was clearly a story. The manager sighed.

"Water hoses. Power cables. Sewer lines. One guy managed to leave with a leveling block still under one side." Matt considered the logistics.

"How?"

"We asked him that."

"Did he have an answer?"

"No." Matt accepted the receipt.

"I'll use a checklist." The man's expression brightened.

"My favorite kind of customer." Matt headed back toward G-214. The Camp was already awake, with Delvers heading toward the Gate, somebody jogging in training clothes, a breakfast truck serving customers, and two people beside a pickup arguing over whether an enormous shield would fit in the bed. He passed The Last Flask. Then Gear & Gem. The blue-streaked clerk was unlocking an exterior display. She noticed the paperwork in his hand.

"Leaving?"

"Ohio."

"Ashfield?" Matt stopped.

"How does everyone know?" She smiled.

"Watch the birds." Matt pointed at her.

"Stop doing that." She laughed. Matt continued toward G-214. The site looked exactly as it had yesterday. And completely different. For the first time, it looked temporary. He unlocked the trailer. Packing had started the previous afternoon, but Matt had left himself a final checklist for the morning. Laptop and electronics secured. Dishes and bathroom storage locked down. Cabinet and refrigerator latches checked. Longsword and armor secured. Life Flasks stored somewhere they couldn't become glass projectiles.

Portal Scrolls in their container. Matt opened one cabinet. A coffee mug sat loose inside. He stared.

"That would have been annoying." He packed it. Then started the check again from the front. Logistics had taught him something important. The easiest way to miss something was to assume you remembered checking it. Satisfied, Matt went outside. He retracted the awning, disconnected and stored the electrical cable and freshwater line, then moved on to the sewer connection. Matt put on gloves.

"This is the least magical part of Dungeon Delving." Nobody answered. Good. Some experiences did not require an audience. Once everything was disconnected, capped, stored, and washed down, Matt raised the stabilizer jacks and walked around the trailer checking tires, exterior compartments, and windows. Then came the hitch. Matt climbed into the pickup and looked into the mirror. He still hated this part. His first attempt to park the trailer at Black Hollow had become a public performance.

He had learned since then. Not enough. Matt shifted into reverse. Slowly. Mirror. Correction. Reverse. Stop. He got out. Four inches off. Matt stared at the hitch.

"So close." Back into the truck. One correction. Reverse again. Better. One final adjustment. The coupler settled onto the hitch ball. Matt exhaled.

"Still hate this." But three attempts was considerably better than his arrival. Progress. Matt locked the coupler, crossed the safety chains, attached the breakaway cable and electrical connector, verified the lights, removed the wheel chocks, and ran the departure checklist one final time. Hitch locked — checked. Chains secured — checked. Breakaway cable — checked. Electrical — checked. Jacks up — checked. Chocks removed — checked. Compartments locked — checked. Door locked — checked. Matt nodded.

"Good." A voice came from a nearby site.

"Moving out?" Matt turned. The older Delver two spaces over stood beside his RV with a mug in hand. They'd exchanged maybe five conversations in eleven days—mostly about hookups, once about weather, and once about a guy who had tried to tow a trailer without retracting the stairs.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"Ohio." The man nodded as though Matt had said he was going to the grocery store.

"Have fun."

"That's the plan."

"Don't get comfortable." Matt raised an eyebrow.

"With what?"

"Moving." The man took a drink.

"First few times feel like an event. After a while, that's just Tuesday." Matt looked at the rig. He wasn't sure whether that sounded good or bad. Probably good.

"Thanks." The man lifted his mug. Matt climbed into the pickup, released the parking brake, shifted into drive, and slowly pulled forward. The trailer followed. No cable ripped out. No water hose snapped. No horrible grinding sound. Matt smiled.

"Success." He drove out of G-214. In the mirror, the site became an empty rectangle of gravel. Eleven days. Long enough for G-214 to start feeling like home. Short enough that leaving it still felt strange. Matt looked back once.

"Not bad." Then he drove on. The route through Camp felt strangely ceremonial even though nobody else treated it that way. He passed The Last Flask, Gear & Gem, the Mana Stone Exchange, and finally the Gate. A group of new Delvers stood near the entrance wearing obviously fresh beginner equipment. One held a sword almost exactly like Matt's first one. He looked nervous. Matt remembered that feeling. The blue Gate had seemed impossible. Now Black Hollow was the Dungeon where ordinary monsters died in one hit.

A man in dented armor walking beside the road raised a hand. Matt returned the gesture with two fingers from the wheel. Then the Camp buildings thinned. Gravel became pavement. The guard shack approached. His Camp Pass registered automatically for the final time. The barrier lifted. Matt drove through. Black Hollow disappeared behind him. The GPS chimed. Routing to: Ashfield Orchard — Ohio Estimated Travel Time: 4 Hours, 15 Minutes Matt adjusted his mirrors. Trailer stable. Traffic light. Weather good.

"All right." He turned on the radio. Then immediately turned it down. The pickup accelerated onto the main road and the trailer settled into a steady pull behind it. West Virginia rolled past the windows in green hills, wooded slopes, and long roads folded between them. The drive to Black Hollow had been dominated by nerves. Every vibration had sounded expensive. Every turn had made Matt wonder what he had forgotten. Today was different.

He knew how the trailer felt behind him, how much extra distance he needed to stop, and why the mirrors mattered more than whatever impatient driver happened to be behind him. He wasn't an expert. But he was no longer terrified. At a long straight section, Matt swapped Perfect Temperature in, corrected the coffee in his travel mug, took a sip, then returned to his normal setup. Exactly right. Perfect Temperature might never be the strongest Unique Skill in his Archive.

It was still getting one of the highest usage rates. The road opened ahead. For the first time since quitting his job, Matt had nowhere he was supposed to be except somewhere he had personally chosen. No office, management schedule, morning meeting, or logistics emergency caused by somebody ordering something three weeks late and asking whether it could arrive tomorrow. Just Ohio. A Dungeon. And whatever happened after that. ◆ Matt's phone buzzed in its mount. He ignored it until reaching a rest area.

The trailer required an oversized space, but Matt found one easily. A surprising number of the vehicles around him were Delver rigs: pickups with trailers, converted vans, a large Class A motorhome with weapon-storage decals, and a battered SUV pulling a tiny camping trailer. One vehicle made him stop. A luxury pickup. Normal dimensions outside. The rear door opened. A man stepped out carrying a towel. Matt remembered the video. Spatial Expansion Pickup. An apartment wearing a truck.

For one irrational second, he wanted it again. Then he remembered the price.

"No." Someday. Maybe. His ordinary trailer was doing fine. Matt checked his phone. BLACK HOLLOW GROUP Matt: Left Black Hollow. Ethan: finally Chloe: Where? Matt: Ohio. Ethan: coward Matt stared. Then typed. Matt: how is Ohio cowardice Ethan: idk Chloe: Ignore him. Chloe: Which dungeon? Matt: Ashfield Orchard. There was a pause. Chloe answered first. Chloe: Good beginner dungeon. Then Ethan. Ethan: birds Matt: what about them Ethan: you'll see Matt stared at the screen.

"… I don't like that." Chloe typed. Chloe: Fire resistance. Matt: 31% Chloe: You'll be fine. Ethan: BIRDS Chloe: Please stop. Matt put the phone away. He used the restroom, walked around the trailer to check the hitch and tires, then bought a sandwich and ate outside at a picnic table. A week ago, he would have thought of this as downtime. Now it felt like part of the trip. He wasn't trying to get through the travel portion so the interesting part could begin.

The travel portion was one of the reasons he was doing this. Matt looked at the pickup, trailer, and road beyond the parking lot.

"This was a good idea." He laughed quietly. A few weeks ago, his workday had been spreadsheets, emails, delivery windows, warehouse problems, and explaining to people that two objects could not occupy the same truck space no matter how urgently both customers believed their shipment needed to arrive. Now his home was attached to his bumper. He was driving to a magical orchard to hit monsters with a sword. Yes. Definitely better. Matt returned to the pickup. The road continued. Traffic grew heavier in places.

A semi passed him, shifting the trailer slightly in its wake. Matt corrected without panic. Later he stopped for fuel at a station with enough space to pull through without backing. Matt appreciated that on a spiritual level. While the tank filled, he confirmed that Ashfield's reservation and route were still good. Everything fit. Then another pickup pulled into the neighboring lane. Its bed contained two sheathed polearms and a locked equipment box. The driver noticed Matt's trailer.

"Dungeon?" Matt nodded.

"Ashfield." The man laughed.

"Birds." Matt closed his eyes.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" The stranger grinned.

"You'll see." He walked into the store. Matt stared after him.

"This is becoming harassment." He got back into the truck. Ohio was getting closer. The terrain changed gradually rather than dramatically. Mountain roads eased, longer views opened between the hills, and farm fields became more common. The GPS counted down. One hour. Forty minutes. Twenty. Then the road approached a broad bridge. Water stretched beneath it. The Ohio River. Matt glanced toward the passenger-side view. The state line was somewhere across that water.

The trailer followed steadily as the pickup climbed the bridge. A green roadside sign appeared ahead. WELCOME TO OHIO Matt smiled.

"West Virginia done." Then he thought about it. He had not, in fact, completed West Virginia. There were probably dozens of Dungeons in the state he'd never visited, and Black Hollow had been his starting point rather than a destination he had traveled into. He reconsidered.

"Okay." The sign passed.

"First state line." That worked. The GPS updated. Ashfield Orchard still lay ahead. Black Hollow had taught Matt enough that he no longer felt helpless. Ohio would test whether any of that transferred. This would be a different Dungeon, a different Camp, and different enemies—with no Ethan holding the front and no Chloe controlling the pace. Just Matt, his build, his Gear, and COPY. That was the test he actually wanted. Could he do this alone? Not merely survive. Live this way.

Move from Dungeon to Dungeon, learn each one, get stronger, find loot, pack up, and drive again. Matt's phone buzzed in the mount. He waited until traffic settled before glancing at the lock-screen preview. Ethan: seriously watch the birds Matt stared.

"…What the hell is wrong with the birds?"