The conversation kept flowing, shifting from dungeons to local gossip to stories about their adventures. At some point, the ale started hitting Jorik harder than I think any of us expected.

  "And then—and then Henrik said, 'Boy, if you're gonna climb that tree, at least have the decency not to fall on my vegetables,'" Jorik slurred, laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair.

  Marcus caught him with practiced ease. "Easy there, buddy."

  "I'm fine, I'm fine." Jorik waved him off, but his words were definitely starting to blend together. "Just... just a little tired, you know?"

  I'd stuck to water the whole night. The ale smelled decent enough, but after everything that had happened, I didn't trust myself to lose even a little bit of control. So I'd nursed the same cup of water through the entire dinner, refilling it whenever the server came by.

  Marcus shot me an apologetic look. "Sorry about this.”

  "It's okay," I said quietly. "He's been through a lot."

  "Yeah." Marcus's expression darkened for a moment before he shook it off. "Alright, come on, you." He hauled Jorik to his feet, slinging his friend's arm over his shoulder. "Let's get you home before you pass out on the table."

  Jorik mumbled something incoherent, his head lolling against Marcus's shoulder.

  I stood up too, gathering my things. The night had stretched longer than I'd expected, and exhaustion was starting to creep in at the edges.

  "You need help getting back?" Marcus asked, adjusting his grip on Jorik. "I can walk you to your inn after I drop him off."

  I shook my head. "I'll be fine. It's not far."

  "You sure? It's getting pretty late."

  "I'm sure." I forced a small smile. "Besides, you've got your hands full already."

  Marcus glanced at Jorik, who was now humming some off-key tune, and laughed. "Yeah, I guess I do." He hesitated for a moment. "Thanks for coming tonight, Vera. It... it meant a lot.”

  My chest tightened. "Of course."

  "Take care of yourself, alright?"

  "You too."

  I watched them leave, Marcus half-dragging, half-carrying Jorik out the door while the drunk man rambled about something that sounded like chickens. The tavern felt quieter once they were gone, the noise around me suddenly more noticeable.

  The streets of Oakenford were quieter at this hour. A few late-night stragglers wandered past, mostly drunk adventurers stumbling back to their lodgings. Lamplight flickered from windows here and there, casting long shadows across the street.

  I pulled my cloak tighter around myself and started walking.

  But I didn't head back to the inn.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  My feet carried me through the quiet streets without any real destination in mind.

  Past closed shops and darkened windows. Past the occasional drunk stumbling home. Past alleys that probably weren't safe, though I didn't really care at the moment.

  The cool night air felt nice. Better than being cooped up inside.

  I ended up near the edge of town, where the buildings thinned out and gave way to open fields. A low stone wall separated the road from farmland beyond, and I found myself sitting on it, legs dangling over the side.

  The moon was bright tonight. Pretty, actually.

  I kicked my feet a little, watching the shadows shift. It was peaceful out here. Peaceful in a way that didn't feel suffocating.

  My mind kept circling back to everything Marcus had told me tonight.

  Dungeons. The Great Labyrinth. Kingdoms.

  Marcus had opened my eyes to just how massive this world really was.

  And how little I actually knew.

  I laughed.

  I'd been so focused on surviving, on getting through each day, that I hadn't really stopped to think about what came next. Where I was going. What I wanted to do.

  What do I actually want?

  The question felt heavier than it should've been.

  Back home, I'd wanted... what? To escape my boring life? To have adventures like in the stories I read? To be someone important instead of just another nobody sitting behind a computer screen?

  Well, I got that. Sort of.

  I was in a fantasy world with magic and monsters and dungeons. I had powers that would make most people jealous. I could literally create life from nothing.

  But now that I was here... now that it was real...

  What do I want?

  To survive, obviously. That was the bare minimum. But beyond that?

  I had no idea…

  And there was still the problem of my monsters. Of people noticing. Of eventually having to explain how I kept acquiring more and more creatures.

  About what I could create.

  Right now, I had two monsters with me. Two D-rank creatures that people already found impressive. "Genius tamer," they'd called me. Like having multiple monsters was some kind of miracle.

  But that wasn't even close to my limit.

  With enough time, I could create an army. Dragons, hydras, whatever I wanted. The Monster Maker skill didn't have a cap on how many creatures I could bond with.

  Just a limit on how much wild power I could store at once.

  Twenty days' worth. That was my maximum. But once I used it? I could start accumulating again. Make more monsters. Keep building my forces.

  What happens when I have ten monsters? Twenty? A hundred?

  The thought should've excited me. Power like that was... it was insane. The kind of thing protagonists in those isekai stories I used to read would kill for.

  But instead, I felt uneasy.

  Because people were already noticing. Already asking questions. How did I bond with multiple D-rank monsters? Where did I learn to tame creatures that supposedly couldn't be tamed?

  I'd given them a story about my isolated hometown, about natural talent. They'd bought it for now.

  But what happens when I show up with a third monster? A fourth? When I start creating creatures that are C-rank, B-rank, higher?

  At some point, someone's going to realize I'm not normal. Not even by this world's standards.

  The Crown Guild. The kingdoms. Hell, maybe even that Sanctum of Light.

  Someone's going to want to control me. Or worse, eliminate me as a threat.

  Every new creature I made was another question I'd have to answer. Another lie I'd have to maintain.

  And if people found out the truth? That I wasn't just bonding with monsters, but creating them from nothing?

  I didn't even want to think about what would happen then.

  I didn't have an answer.

  I just sat there, staring out at the fields, trying to wrap my head about my future.

  And I had no idea what it was.