I wanted to train more with mana, but time was growing short. The werewolves could already be on the hunt for me. I also needed to train with my other spells too and really internalize my new class spells and my abilities.

  The best way to train all that was to hunt. So I called Switchblade and we jumped on. I spent a few minutes gliding through the forest, brushing my hands against leaves to make sure my scent was easily found.

  Then we turned west, exited the forest, and sped across the rolling hills of the open grasslands that rose into the first foothills of the western mountain steps. Nigel sat tall in front of me, shaggy fur whipping behind, calling for me to go ever faster.

  So I did. Pushing Switchblade to the max, we rocketed across the grassland, shooting high into the air off hilltops. Nigel roared and whooped the entire way, ignoring the fierce wind. Maybe I’d get him a little pair of goggles.

  I angled farther north and headed for a different canyon rising higher into the mountains between a couple of steeper foothills. Fewer trees filled the canyon, allowing us to easily weave between them. I kept a close eye on the map display, but saw no obvious threats.

  After a couple miles, Nigel suddenly perked up and twisted to focus on a narrow slot canyon cutting into the cliff to our right. I cut power and banked that way.

  “What is it?”

  “Monster. Very evil. We should kill it.”

  “What kind of monster?”

  “The worst kind.” Nigel’s hair along his spine poofed up in his fury and he growled at the crack in the cliff. “Dog.”

  “Ah. Yeah, dogs are the worst,” I said as I scratched his neck and behind his ears.

  “They are vile.”

  Typical cat, but he had a point. We needed to fight monsters. Besides the werewolves, I hadn’t seen many doglike monsters. Back on Earth, I liked dogs. Not that I would ever say that to Nigel.

  Switchblade couldn’t navigate the narrow slot canyon, so I banished it. Nigel led the way, scampering along the twisting route ahead of me.

  “Stay close,” I hissed. He might hate dogs, but despite the huge powerup he’d gotten by bonding to me, he was still just a kitten. I didn’t want him getting hurt.

  Similar to some slot canyons I’d explored back on Earth, this one wound back and forth like a stress fracture through solid cliffs, so narrow I had to twist sideways to squeeze through some spots. Boulders occasionally blocked the sandy floor, forcing me to scramble or simply jump over.

  The cliff walls rose over 100 feet on either side, barely showing a glimpse of the darkening night sky high above. The layered striations running through the walls rising above twisting stone passage transformed it from looking like the closing gullet of a giant monster to the beautiful closing gullet of a giant monster. If not for Wolf Sight, I would have needed my flashlight to navigate the channel.

  A distant rumbling suggested maybe a waterfall ahead. That could be bad. Flash floods in slot canyons could kill. Still, I pushed ahead, following Nigel, every sense alert. Fighting in the tight confines of the slot canyon would be tough. Hopefully the dog monster he smelled would wait until we emerged into a larger space before attacking.

  After about 50 yards winding back into the mountain, the slot canyon ended in a hidden valley, completely ringed by steep cliffs, with taller peaks piercing the sky behind. A waterfall did indeed thunder down nearby, plunging off the cliff and into a hole in the rock, before disappearing into the depths beneath the mountain.

  The lovely little valley was maybe a quarter mile long, shaped like a teardrop, with the pointy end where we’d entered next to the waterfall. Short grasses covered the rocky soil, which was dotted with large boulders, no doubt fallen from the heights all around. The still air smelled like grass and running water and something faint, but very pleasant.

  In the center of the valley stood a solitary giant oak tree, if oak leaves glowed silver. The tree’s glow filled the tiny space with a warm, peaceful light. I started toward it, my gaze locked on the glowing leaves. Identify kicked in after a couple steps.

  “Silverveil Oak. Rare. Nourished by moonlight, the Silverveil Oak gathers knowledge like drops of dew from eternity. Those lucky enough to find a fallen leaf receive a boon that may take the form of an ability or spell upgrade, an insight to progress on your journey, or even a class evolution. Those foolish enough to try picking a leaf still attached never leave the valley alive. And don’t forget about the guardian.”

  “Guardian?” I blinked away the subtle trance that had settled over me and realized I’d crossed a third of the valley. Only then did I spot a huge shape loping toward me from behind the tree. It looked like a giant bulldog, with a thick body, short legs, and endless rolls of skin and jowls. The thing stood nearly as tall as me.

  “Tempest Mastiff. Rare. Level 55 Guardian. The mighty guardian of the Silverveil Oak, the Tempest Mastiff’s only purpose is to protect the tree from all harm. Sure, it might fulfill that duty a bit aggressively, but that only makes it perfect for its job. This is one dog whose bark is actually as bad as its bite.”

  Why name it a Mastiff when it looked more like a bulldog? It trotted closer, its breath like an industrial bellows. Next to me, Nigel hissed and expanded to full-sized lion. His cute hiss transformed into a menacing growl.

  “Wait!” I jumped in front of Nigel, but still facing the Mastiff.

  Nigel nuzzled my back and growled, “We must slaughter this vile creature.” The sound reverberated through me like one of those massage guns set on overdrive.

  “Not yet. I need to try something.”

  Hatred for the foul dog radiated off of Nigel, but he did not leap over me to attack. The Mastiff was still running toward us, giant ears flopping with every step.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  I focused on the feel of him. Ever since meeting Nigel, I’d enjoyed a heightened sense for animal-based monsters, but life had been too crazy to test out any of the other perks of my Beast Master title. This peaceful clearing with only one big dog in it felt different.

  So I took a slow step, extending one hand toward the fast-approaching hound, and said in my best soothing tone, “Easy boy.”

  He was a boy, right? If not, I’d just wrecked my chance.

  A connection snapped into place between me and the hound. Barely a whisper compared to what I shared with Nigel, but definitely real. I sensed the huge dog’s curiosity and eagerness to attack if we proved hostile toward him or his precious tree.

  “We won’t hurt you.”

  “What?” Nigel exclaimed, an undeniable sense of betrayal in his voice.

  I couldn’t risk looking back and breaking eye contact with the giant dog. He had slowed, tongue lolling out of his heavy jaws, big black eyes locked on mine.

  “Some monsters we don’t have to kill.”

  “But he’s a dog!”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but please trust me. I think I can get better loot if we don’t kill him yet.”

  “Yet?” Nigel asked, tone hopeful again.

  “Maybe not at all.”

  “I hate this valley.”

  “Please. I think the loot could be important.”

  Besides, as much as I needed the experience, I really didn’t want to kill a monster that looked so much like an Earth dog.

  The Mastiff barked, a deep and somehow hopeful sound. It made me grin and I took another slow step forward. “See. We don’t want to fight you.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Nigel growled, and the dog growled in turn. For a second, he’d seemed on the verge of turning friendly, but as soon as he focused on Nigel, his hackles rose and his entire posture shifted.

  Crap. I really wanted to make this Beast Master title ability work. Yes, we needed experience, but I also needed to explore every aspect of all of my abilities.

  “You cannot trust a dog!” Nigel snarled and bounded right over me. He was going for the dog and then the fight would be on.

  I jumped up, snatched him out of the air, and pulled him down. Nigel squirmed in my grasp, his torso longer than mine, his head rearing above mine, powerful limbs scrabbling against me to free himself from my grip. Thankfully, he remembered to keep his claws retracted.

  “Calm down,” I urged Nigel as the Mastiff barked a few more times, bounding forward again. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to play or fight or just chase Nigel around the clearing.

  Nigel snapped back to his small kitten size and tried to jump out of my arms. I held him tight, his little furry body quivering against me, his gaze locked onto the approaching dog.

  “Hey, look at me,” I urged gently. When he did, I asked, “Will you do me a favor and wait back by the waterfall?”

  “And leave you alone with a dog?”

  “It’ll be all right.”

  “I’d rather roll in tar.”

  The pathetic image of little Nigel covered in sticky tar, trying vainly to lick his fur clean popped into my head. I almost caved then. Better to kill the dog than alienate Nigel.

  The dog slowed, mouth open, tongue lolling. It looked intrigued to see the murder kitty so small.

  “Nigel, how about I send you back to my castle to see if Ruby is there? Tell her you’ve earned 5 minutes of bonus scratching.”

  He sighed like I’d asked him to go on a 1-month steak fast. “Make it 10, and don’t do anything you will regret.”

  “Done. I’ll see you shortly.”

  With a bit of focused will, I triggered the special ability on his Familiar Collar for the first time. Nigel disappeared with a tiny pop and the Mastiff’s ears perked up. He bounded to the side to get a better view behind me, searching for the cat.

  “He’s gone. It’s okay boy.”

  I took a slow step forward, hands spread, willing a sense of peace down the tenuous link I felt with him. The Mastiff barked, creating a wind that rushed past me, ruffling my clothing but doing no harm.

  He bounded forward, barking, and for a second I tensed, fearing I’d failed and would have to fight him anyway. Then I got an announcement.

  “Congratulations, Lucas! Through your Beast Master title, you have influenced the Tempest Mastiff, changing his status to Friendly.”

  The enormous dog skidded to a halt right in front of me and his giant tongue whipped out to drag up my body and face, leaving a coating of slobbery drool all over me. It stank like dead fish.

  Why did all dogs have such foul breath? Oddly, I found the stench more welcome than revolting. Nasty dog breath triggered a flash of nostalgia and I leaned against the dog’s heavy flanks, rubbing behind his ears and grinning.

  “Who’s a good boy?” I asked in that goofy tone everyone seemed to use around dogs.

  The Mastiff quivered with pleasure, nuzzling me with jaws that could snap bones, his loud breathing filling the clearing. I spent a few minutes vigorously petting and scratching him, and for a moment I forgot about battle and monsters and quests and the insanity of the death battle world.

  Finally I broke away and headed for the tree, the Mastiff bounding all around me, barking excitedly. I pulled a big elephant steak from my inventory and tossed it to him. He gobbled it up in a single bite.

  Beneath the expanse of the Silverveil Oak, the fresh air felt invigorating. A sense of peace infused the area and I took a deep breath, letting my tension fade. A whispered thought urged me to lie down and take a nap.

  Not so fast. I’d read too many stories where a seemingly peaceful tree lured travelers to rest only to feed on them. I made a slow circuit of the tree, splitting my attention between the softly glowing leaves high above and the ground. It sounded like finding a fallen leaf was rare, but I had to try.

  What if I threw a rock from the far end of the clearing and accidentally knocked a leaf down? The description suggested harvesting a leaf would end badly, but how far did the tree’s powers extend?

  It took only a moment to confirm my luck had failed me. The soft, loamy ground was bare. No leaves. I glanced at the Mastiff and shrugged. “What do you think?”

  The Mastiff huffed once, then tipped his huge head up and barked. This time the sound was like a thunderclap, his breath like a whirlwind. It shook the entire tree, branches thrashing, leaves whipping in every direction, resulting in a dizzying display of reflected silver beams of light dancing all around us. It was like a silvery disco ball gone wild.

  Then with a little tinkling sound like a brass bell, a single leaf snapped free and fell. It tumbled and twisted, blown by invisible currents that wrapped it around every limb on a convoluted journey toward the ground.

  “He did it,” I said loudly, pointing at the dog, who used the excuse to rush over and lick me again, nearly bowling me over in the process.

  “Thanks, bud,” I laughed, giving the dog another thorough scratching before I snatched the leaf out of the air. Instantly, a notification popped up.

  “Silverveil Leaf. Rare. Crush it in your hand to unlock a random upgrade.”

  “Here goes nothing.” Hopefully I wouldn’t upgrade something useless, like one of my secondary abilities. That nearly endless list included just about everything I’d ever tried. Getting an epic upgrade to shoelace tying or something would be a total waste.

  The crushed leaf dissolved into my gloved hand and a feeling of warmth spread up my arm and through my torso.

  “Your class ability Mimic is upgraded to level 5.”

  “Mimic. Class Ability. Rare. Gain a 20% chance for each level of this ability to cast any spell you’ve been struck with in the last 15 seconds as if it was a temporary spell you control.”

  “Upgraded to include: Choose a single Mimicked spell at a time to linger as a temporary spell until you use it.”

  “Yes!” Level 5 gave me a 100% chance to capture and re-cast spells I got hit with, as long as monsters didn’t have some kind of ability to mess with the numbers. It was like a real-time Harvest now.

  That gave me a thought. “Hey, does that mean when I trigger the upgraded feature, does the affected spell becomes a regular temporary spell with a single use?”

  “It does,” Cyrus said. “That was a lucky upgrade.”

  “My class gives 3 additional uses to any temporary spell. Does that mean a spell I pick up using Mimic will have 4 uses?”

  That stumped him for a second. Finally Cyrus answered, “Another great question. You’ve got a knack for finding gaps in the system, Lucas. This upgrade was intended to only give a single longer-term use of a mimicked spell, but you’re right. Your class bonus works on it.”

  “Sweet!” Mimic hadn’t been super helpful yet, but it had so much potential. Now that potential was exponentially higher. Taking the chance to befriend the dog instead of just killing it had really paid off.