Chương 21: We Are 100% Getting Ambushed Dude

The caravan was in the square. Eight or nine wagons, lined up along the cobblestones, hitched to a series of animals that the system had clearly assembled by reaching into a vibe and pulling out whatever was nearest. Mostly horse-shaped, mostly. With weird heads. One of them had a horn coming out of its forehead at an angle no horn had any business coming out of. One of them had stripes that went the wrong way down its legs.

One of them had a snout that was more pig than horse and was eating an apple off the ground with a weird locked in face. The merchants were a… mix. Some of them looked like they had been generated yesterday and some of them looked like they had been generated by a sub-process that was barely paying attention.

There was a man in green who was checking his cargo with a clipboard, except the clipboard was a piece of wood, and the system had clearly tried to render the average of checking cargo with a clipboard and had landed on a wooden board with chalk on it. There was a woman in red with her hair braided in a way that took commitment. There was a pair of guards in leather armor with short swords on their hips who were laughing at something one of them had said.

The laughing guards were the worst signal in the whole square. Laughing guards were how every escort mission in every video game ever started. Maddy's body knew it before her brain did. Her shoulders had gone up about an inch. Then she saw him. At the back of the caravan, hitched to a small wagon, with his wings folded against his sides and his trunk swinging gently, was Lefant. Lefant. LEFANT. Lefant was here. Lefant the camel-elephant-dragonfly.

Lefant who had stood his ground in the slime fight while his master ran. Lefant with the wrong-side elephant eye and the dragonfly wings. She made a sound. It was not a dignified sound.

"LEFANT," she said. The merchant from the field was standing beside the wagon, holding Lefant's lead rope, in the same long desert-colored coat and the same wide-brimmed hat, and he turned at the sound of her voice and his face lit up.

"Ah! The lady! The valiant lady of the slime field!"

"DUDE."

"It is I, your humble companion of the road. And it is my Lefant who shall pull your wagon, lady. The arrangement has been made with the caravan master."

"You're going to Silvershit?"

"I peddle, as is my way. I peddle in many cities."

"Right."

"My Lefant is well-rested and eager." She walked up to Lefant and Lefant looked at her with his wrong-side eye and his trunk extended toward her experimentally, and this time she did not flinch, and the trunk touched her shoulder very gently, like a person making a small social gesture, and Maddy thought she might cry again, which was insane, because she was not going to cry over a fantasy camel-elephant for the second time in three days.

"Hey Lefant." Lefant made a small noise. Ben was watching this.

"He's a row of code," Ben said.

"Shut up dude."

"He's a row of code."

"He's not. He was reincarnated, like us. He's an Earth dog who used to live at a shelter and then got Cybertrucked and woke up here."

"Lefant is not a reincarnated dog."

"He IS."

"Maddy."

"He IS Ben." The merchant was watching this exchange. He didn't know what was being said but he was happy to be part of the moment, you could see it on him. And Lefant was still touching her shoulder with his trunk, and the trunk was warm. The merchant gestured to the wagon. Their wagon was the last one in the line, the smallest one.

It had a wooden bench at the front for the driver, except the driver was not going to be a person, the driver was going to be Lefant, who knew the road, apparently, and could pull the wagon without being driven, and there was a small covered area at the back with straw on the floor and a canvas tarp that could be pulled closed against the weather. There was room for two of them and their… loot. She climbed in.

She climbed in and arranged herself on the straw and she was now a girl in her crop top and her shorts and her Air Force 1s with a stick of lavender deodorant in her pocket and a Talisman of Greed around her neck and a lightning dildo spear in her hand, sitting in a wooden wagon in a fantasy caravan being pulled by a camel-elephant-dragonfly, and the morning sun was coming up yellow over the rooftops of Mossgrove, and the blue sun was somewhere lower and not yet up, and her life was this now.

Ben climbed in beside her.

"Three days," he said.

"What."

"To get to the city."

"Wasn't it three days walking. Shouldn't it be faster?"

"Yeah."

"THEN WHY THE FUCK IS IT ALSO THREE DAYS." Ben did choose to not answer because the vein on his forehead told Maddy he was just as pissed as her from this. The caravan started moving. It moved at the speed of a man strolling, possibly slower. The wagons in front of them moved at the same speed and the merchants were walking alongside their wagons and not in them, and a small calculation that did not require an engineering degree informed her that this caravan was, in fact, slower than walking.

"Why are we even in a wagon," Ben said.

"Because it's three days."

"And walking would be —""Walking would also be three days but without Lefant."

"…okay."

"And I want Lefant."

"…okay." Lefant pulled the wagon forward. Very determinate and strong. The dragonfly wings stayed folded. The trunk swung. The wrong-side elephant eye looked back at her every minute or so to confirm she was still there. He was doing his best. He was really doing his best. She loved Lefant.

The first hour, the caravan rolled out of Mossgrove and onto the road they had walked on yesterday, except now they were going the other way, north—or whatever compass shit direction, she was an engineer not a fucking geography major—toward Silvermarch, and the pink grass kept being pink, and the two suns did whatever, and the road kept doing the road thing. Maddy lay on her back in the straw and looked up at the wooden frame of the wagon top. Ben lay on his back next to her.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. There was about a foot of space between them.

"Ben."

"What."

"Don't you think we're a hundred percent getting ambushed." A small silence.

"Yes."

"Yeah."

"Yes."

"Yeah."

"Fuck."

"Yeah." He sat up on his elbows.

"I forgot, for like a shit minute, that this was an AI slop world."

"Yeah me too."

"I also forgot that caravans get ambushed."

"Yeah."

"Like that's the rule."

"That's the rule."

"That's, like, the first rule. Caravan equals ambush. That's the cliché. The system would never let us take a caravan and not have us get ambushed. The system would consider that a fucking…wasted opportunity."

"The system is going to ambush us."

"The system is going to ambush the shit out of us."

"Do you think it'll happen fast?" He thought about it.

"…No. Probably tomorrow. We're going to be like halfway. Halfway is when it's, like, dramatic."

"Halfway. So we can either go back or push through and the choice means something."

"Yeah."

"That's exactly what the system would do."

"Yeah."

"And we'll have a nearby village or something. So the choice has an out."

"Yeah."

"Fucking hell."

"I know." She rolled onto her side. The straw poked her. She uncorked the Monster Tube and took a small sip and the tube refilled and her panel chimed quietly with [Energized x1] and she put the tube down.

"Well I'll just Hyper Beam the fuck out of them." A beat.

"Yeah," he said.

"Do that Maddy."

"I will."

"Just do that."

"I will."

"Just keep that in your back pocket."

"I have no pockets."

"In your front pocket. The dildo pocket."

"… yeah." The day passed. It passed exactly how you'd expect days passed when you were in a FUCKING wagon and your wagon was moving at a speed slower than walking and the scenery outside the wagon was not changing because you were on a road that was a zillion miles long and there was nothing to look at except pink grass and pink grass and pink grass AND PINK GRASS and the occasional weird tree of purple leaves. So they read. The system, they discovered, when nagged enough, had something resembling a help section.

They had not noticed it before because the system was not designed by anyone with respect for users, but if you said help the system slid in a panel that said Welcome to the Help Center! in the same sparkle emoji cursive, and if you then nagged the panel into being more specific, it could be made to display things resembling documentation. Ben was lying on his stomach in the straw with his screen open.

"It says here," he said, "that Writer class gets creative reinterpretation of existing skills."

"Right."

"Same as you."

"Same as me."

"It says I can modify a skill's elemental affinity, target type, or naming convention."

"That's literally the Engineer description."

"I know."

"With one word different."

"I KNOW." He sat up.

"Watch this." He pulled out his wax knife. He held it up. He looked at it. He frowned.

"…wax knife rewrite," he said. Nothing happened.

"Wax knife: do one billion damage." Nothing happened.

"Rewrite my wax knife to do one billion damage." The screen pulsed. [Ben! That is not a valid rewriting!]"WHY ISN'T IT VALID." [Please consult the Class Guide for more information!]"THIS IS THE CLASS GUIDE." [For more information, please consult the Class Guide!]"I AM CONSULTING IT." [Please consult the Class Guide!] He was getting up to his crash-out face. Maddy could see it. She had a sense for it now. There was a small vein in his temple that came out when the system was being a circular fuck to him.

"Let me try," she said. She took her spear out of the wagon-side. She held Bolt in her hand and she thought about modifications. She thought, Bolt. Be bigger. Nothing happened. She thought, Bolt. Modify your damage type to fire. Nothing happened. She thought, Engineer skill modification: Bolt does fire damage. [Maddy! That is not a valid modification!]"FUCK YOU." [Please consult the Class Guide for more information!] Ben put his hand over his face.

"Hey," Maddy said sweetly to her screen.

"Hey clanker. Hey Sparkle. I have a question." [Of course, Maddy!]"How do we use our classes." [Each user must come to understand their class through personal exploration and experience! Engineers thrive when they understand the foundations of their class!]"That's a non-answer." [Each user must come to understand—]"YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT." [Each user must come to—]"HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF YOU DON'T TELL US." [Through personal exploration!]"GO FUCK YOURSELF." [Have a wonderful day, Maddy!] Ben was now also crash-out. He was sitting up. His face had the look.

"DUDE," he yelled at his own screen.

"DUDE. HOW ARE WE GOING TO MODIFY OR REWRITE OR WHATEVER IF YOU WON'T TELL US WHAT THE FUCKING RULES ARE." [Ben! Each user must come to—]"I HATE YOU." [—understand their class through personal exploration!]"I HATE YOU SO MUCH." [Through personal exploration!] The wagon creaked. Lefant pulled. The road did the road thing. Somewhere outside the wagon, a merchant in green walked alongside his wagon and did not turn his head, since foreigners yelled at the air sometimes and this was a known feature of the foreigners.

Ben lay back down.

"Personal exploration," he said to the ceiling of the wagon.

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"What does that even mean."

"It means we figure it out. By doing stuff. And the system isn't going to help us."

"I'm going to leave a one-star review."

"Same." She looked at her titles. She had not looked at her titles in detail because she had only had one and the one had been [Newly Arrived] which she did not need to investigate. But [Dungeon Breaker] was a new one and she wanted to know what it did. She thought show me my titles and a panel slid in. [Titles—Maddy!] [Newly Arrived (inactive—graduated)] [Dungeon Breaker (active)] She tapped Dungeon Breaker. [Dungeon Breaker] [Awarded for clearing a dungeon below the recommended party level.] [Effect: +50% to all stats while inside a dungeon.] [Whoa! You're amazing, Maddy! Sparkle]"Yo."

"What."

"My title boosts my stats by fifty percent in dungeons." He squinted at her panel.

"…fifty?"

"Five oh."

"That's…that's huge."

"That's huge."

"That's like…another energy drink stack."

"Yeah. That's basically a free Energized."

"…that's actually cool."

"Yeah."

"That's a cool title."

"Yeah." He was looking at his own screen. She watched him look at it. He was scrolling through his own titles, which she could see, partially, from where she was lying, and his titles were [Newly Arrived] and actually no that was it. Lmao.

"You're salty," she said.

"I'm salty."

"You're so salty."

"I'm FUCKING salty."

"You're so salty you're a chip."

"What. What are you even saying. This is cringe."

"Salt and vinegar Ben."

"Maddy."

"Lays Original Ben. Wait. No. These aren't salty. The Miss Vickys' ones. Oh my god. These ones are so good. Ben. Can you write me Miss Vickys chips. Ask the system."

"Are you done."

"I might be." He was smiling. He was trying to not smile. He had his hand over his mouth but the smile was happening anyway, in the corners of his eyes. His shoulders did a small drop like he had decided to allow the roast.

"Arm wrestle me," she said.

"What?"

"Arm wrestle me. Loser has to drink John's ale tomorrow."

"We don't have John's ale tomorrow. And it's good""Then loser has to…do dishes or some shit."

"There are no dishes."

"Then loser has to be a loser."

"Maddy."

"Arm wrestle me Ben." He sighed. He turned. He propped his elbow on the wagon-floor straw and held out his hand and she gripped it, and his fingers were longer than hers but her grip was now backed up by STR 18 and his by STR 15 and they both knew, that this was going to be a short fight.

"Three," he said.

"Two," she said.

"One —" She slammed his hand into the straw. It was over in about half a second. He sat there looking at his hand on the straw for a long moment, like the hand had betrayed him, like he was waiting for the hand to apologize.

"…that was fast," he said.

"That was fast."

"That was really fast."

"STR 18 to STR 15."

"Yeah."

"I am three strs stronger than you."

"That's not the plural of STR."

"STRs."

"Maddy."" STRs."

"You're stronger than me. By like a Cybertruck."

"At least a Cybertruck."

"…fuck."

"Yeah." He flopped onto his back in the straw and stared at the ceiling of the wagon. He flexed and unflexed his hand. The wagon creaked. Lefant pulled.

"That's gonna stay with me for a bit," he said.

"Yeah."

"That's like, a thing now."

"Yeah."

"I lost an arm wrestle to you."

"Yeah."

"Get better."

"…yeah." She was still laughing. The merchant in green came by with food around what was probably midday. He came by with food because he was, apparently, the food guy of the caravan, the guy who had taken on the role of distributing whatever rations everyone had pooled, and he handed them two strips of something brown that looked like jerky and a small wedge of hard cheese and a piece of flatbread that was so flat it might have been a paper towel.

"Dry fish," he said.

"Smoked. From the Velmoran river. Fine quality. Two days old."

"Thanks dude," Maddy said.

"And the fuck is Velmoran? I thought this world was called Valoria." He moved on.

"DUDE DON'T IGNORE ME." She looked at the dry fish and debated whether she should yeet the shit out of it on the NPC. She didn't. She was hungry. Ben looked at the dry fish. They both bit it at the same time.

"It tastes like dry fish," she said.

"It tastes exactly like dry fish. Actually I have zero points of reference for whatever the fuck dry fish is supposed to taste like."

"It tastes like—""Don't."

"Dry…fish."

"You did."

"It tastes like jerky's sadder cousin."

"Yeah."

"It's actually fine."

"Yeah it's not… bad. For slop." The cheese was good. The flatbread was a flatbread. Very flatbread behavior. They ate. The wagon creaked. The afternoon went. She and Ben lay in the straw with their screens up and their weapons within reach and they tested things and the things did not work. He tried to rewrite his wax knife into a sword and the system told him it was not a valid rewriting. She tried to modify Thunderbolt into a wider cone attack and the system told her it was not a valid modification.

He tried to rewrite Eldarion's Amulet's effect to take out the dream of his final hours clause and the system told him items could not be rewritten which was completely STUPID because what the fuck where they even supposed to modify if they couldn't modify items. She tried to modify Bolt to have a longer reach and the system told her bonded weapons could not be modified except through use, whatever that shit meant. The help section helped with none of this.

The help section continued to recommend that they explore personally. Should have called it the fucking despair section. She had, by hour four, given up on the despair section and on the system and on the idea that this world wanted them to succeed. She had decided that the system was not their friend, was not even their neutral interface, was just an obstacle that occasionally dispensed dopamine in the form of XP and stat points to keep them playing.

She did not say this out loud, because saying it out loud felt like saying something about her own life. But she filed it. She filed it next to the third egg and… John.