Tars found the child amusing and intended to chat further, but the boy turned and bolted as soon as he finished speaking.

  Left alone in the courtyard, Tars stood in pensive silence. He glanced at Karyu's closed door. Although he had been told not to disturb him, Tars suddenly realized he was flat broke. The storage bags he'd looted from the wild wizards back in the Maze City were either destroyed or had been sent flying under some dancer's skirt by Bahunt's blade. Karyu hadn't exactly given him time to go window-shopping for lost luggage.

  He sighed and knocked on the door. I can't just ask for a handout, he thought. I'll trade him some mana stones for local currency.

  The realization hit him: he was a textbook "wild wizard"—the kind who stumbled into the supernatural realm by picking up someone else's discarded junk. Without the half-man (now Karyu), he'd likely be exactly what Karyu had described at the tavern: a low-level caster scraping by in some third-rate mercenary group, clutching a single Firebolt spell like a lifeline.

  Then again, that wouldn't be so bad, Tars chuckled to himself. A full stomach and a roof over my head is a life, too.

  Knock, knock, knock!

  No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. Under the pressure of his hand, the door creaked open a crack.

  He pushed it wider. The room was "solid"—constructed from heavy slabs of the local stone. He scanned the main room, then walked into the sleeping quarters. He scratched his head. Things were deviating from the script.

  Karyu was gone.

  Recalling their first meeting, Tars tried to extend his mental perception to sense his companion. After a long moment of searching, he found nothing.

  Is he dead? Did he turn to ash? Tars's mind raced with wild theories. Suddenly finding himself starting his true "wild wizard" life in such a bizarre fashion left him with a feeling between laughter and tears.

  He shook it off. No point overthinking it. He shut the door and returned to his own room, collapsing onto a bed made partially of stone. Apparently, the burrow-worms had traumatized the Abyssal people into sleeping on rock. After his routine meditation, he fell into a deep sleep.

  Strange as it was, he felt a wave of relief. The half-man was too mysterious, too unpredictable. No matter what happened, Tars had to move forward. This was a day to relax—Karyu had brought him to the human world and given him access to supernatural power. That was enough. Besides, he was stronger than the average wild wizard; he even had a Demon Dice.

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  A blood-curdling scream jolted him awake.

  He bolted into the courtyard to find a stranger collapsed in a pool of blood. One of the man's legs was missing, and a fresh hole had appeared in the center of the yard.

  Burrow-worm?

  The man had already fainted from the pain. Tars frowned. How did one handle this in the Abyss? Just toss him out?

  "Hey, big guy!"

  The child ran over, standing in his usual spot atop the wall. "You guys were definitely targeted. You don't look like you're from the Abyss, so word got out. He was probably here to steal something. Give me some food, and I'll deal with him for you."

  "I think I'm alright. I can handle it myself."

  Tars cast Bull's Strength. He hoisted the man out of the blood and wound up for a throw. Since becoming a Dragon-blood kobold, he hadn't tested his full strength. The courtyard was near the edge of town; he was confident he could launch the thief clear out of the settlement. The man felt lighter than expected—a scrawny fellow.

  As Tars spun twice to build momentum:

  "Stop! Stop, stop, stop!" the man in his grip suddenly shrieked. "I was wrong! Mighty sir, I was wrong! I just wanted some food! It was him! He said you'd be easy to trick!"

  The thief pointed a trembling finger at the child behind the wall. Tars laughed and walked toward the wall, still dangling the man.

  "And your leg? Is it hidden behind your back?" Tars asked.

  "Uh, no, sir. A burrow-worm bit it off when I was a kid," the man stammered with a forced grin.

  Tars gave a gentle shove, dropping the thief next to the boy. It was the first time he'd seen the child's face clearly: a dirty little face covered in scars. He looked barely ten years old, staring up at Tars with wide, terrified eyes.

  "I only have this," Tars said, producing a fat meat-worm. He took a massive bite out of it right in front of them. "If you want to eat, take it. Just don't wake me up again."

  He tossed the half-eaten worm over the wall. The boy scrambled to catch it, then pulled the one-legged man into a deep bow.

  Tars didn't look back. He checked Karyu's room one last time—still empty, no clues. Giving up on sleep, he straightened his robes, pulled up his hood, and wandered toward the town center.

  "Sir! Sir!" the boy chased after him. "You're strong and scary-looking! I can introduce you to a really good mercenary group!"

  Tars didn't slow down. He gave a dismissive wave behind his back and kept walking. He needed to integrate, solve his money problem, and find other supernaturalists—specifically wizards. Wild wizards surely had their own ways of communicating and trading.

  A crowd gathering ahead caught his attention. He pushed his way through. A group was preparing for an expedition and was recruiting temporary members with surprisingly high pay. They had already hired an adventure party and a mercenary band; now, they were calling for "mysterious casters," specifically "wizards." (He knew "wizard" was just a respectful local term for an apprentice).

  The onlookers whispered in excitement. Tars rubbed his chin, feeling intrigued.