Unlimited Isekai and Other Unfortunate Magic

"Uh, what exactly makes these jobs so dangerous? They don't sound too bad on paper... err iron plate tags," Dave said.

The Secretary's jellyfish-like tendrils swayed as she let out a deep sigh. "Take the sewers work. The catacombs are home to cultist gatorkin who worship Gorefield the Devourer, sentient slime molds, and a particularly nasty strain of flesh-eating bacteria. Last month, we lost three Iron Rank adventurers to a King sphere of sewer rats that had developed a taste for human eyes."

Dave swallowed.

"As for the courier service, it might sound simple, but you'll be delivering messages to some of the most dangerous individuals in Shandria. One wrong word, one misplaced glance, a message with bad news in it... and you could end up as the main ingredient in someone's soup."

She moved on to the herb gathering quest. "Those 'poisonous look-alikes'? They're not just poisonous. Some can paralyze you with a touch, leaving you helpless as carnivorous plants slowly digest you. Others emit spores that cause vivid hallucinations - we once had an adventurer convinced he was a butterfly for three weeks."

Dave's eyes widened, but the Secretary continued relentlessly.

"Now, the Mimic Hunter job. Mimics aren't just chairs, you know. They can be anything - doors, chests, even entire rooms. We had an adventurer who sat down for a rest and realized too late that the entire chamber was a high level mimic."

"Freaking hell," Dave brushed the back of his head.

"Uh-huh," the Secretary nodded. "The metal bugs generally don't leave people alive and skin anyone they see down to the bone..."

The Secretary continued her grim explanations, describing how the poltergeist in the haunted manor had once propelled a rusty nail with such force that it pierced an adventurer's eye and lodged in their brain. Dave winced at the viscerally vivid imagery.

"Are there any jobs that won't potentially result in my death?" Dave asked, his enthusiasm for adventuring waning.

"Life on Arxtruria is dangerous business, especially for adventurers." The Secretary shrugged nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather rather than the myriad ways adventurers met their doom.

She then proceeded to detail the perils of other quests Dave hadn't selected. The "Serpent Sitter" job, it turned out, had resulted in several adventurers being petrified into rather unflattering statues. The "Goblin Negotiator" position had a worrying tendency to end with the negotiator becoming an involuntary guest at goblin feasts - as the main course.

As the Secretary spoke describing the lack of workplace safety in other jobs, Dave's inner violin - courtesy of Sherlock - began to play a jaunty tune that sounded suspiciously like "99 Ways to Die."

"And don't even get me started on the 'Potion Taster' quest," the Secretary continued. "Last week, an adventurer grew an extra head. The week before that, someone got turned into a sentient puddle."

"I'm starting to think 'adventurer' is just a fancy word for 'professional risk-taker with a death wish,'" Dave quipped. "I was honestly hoping for something simple like rescue a kitten from a tree or something mundane like 'bricklaying'."

"Such jobs are generally reserved for professional builders and animal whisperers and not newly summoned who reek of death," the Secretary shrugged.

"Riiiiight," Dave sighed. He bid adieu to Antiqilla, heading away from her desk.

Consulting with Sherlock's violin, his best bet seemed to be work outside the city murdering metal bugs since he sort of knew how they operated thanks to Phantomancy.

Having spent another 2 copper on a simple leather waterskin, Dave stepped out of the bustling cathedral, the cacophony of the adventurers' marketplace fading behind him as he made his way through the winding streets of Shandria.

As he reached the city gates, Dave took a deep breath, steeling himself for the journey ahead. The guards gave him a cursory nod as he passed.

The Snail Cafe wasn't present so Dave went forward without stopping.

Beyond the gates, the landscape opened up into a breathtaking panorama.

Rolling hills stretched as far as the eye could see, their gentle slopes carpeted with a vibrant tapestry of wildflowers. The alien sun concealed by a mountain of clouds overhead cast a golden glow across the land, painting the clouds in hues of pink and orange.

Dave's footsteps crunched softly on the well-worn path as he made his way through the pastoral fields. The air was thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of freshly tilled soil. In the distance, he could see gargantuan beasts that looked like a fusion of crab and jellyfish. The creatures reached down to the trees and fields with their tentacles, picking fruit. In another minute he noticed a cat-like, large-eared farmer in a straw hat. The catman was perched atop a simple moon chair hanging between horns of the massive beast's front, guiding it lazily with a Kitlix.

As Dave walked on, movement caught his eye. A large group of kitten owls soared gracefully into the air, fuzzy feathers gleaming in the sunlight as they sought refuge in nearby trees.

Soon, the cultivated fields gradually gave way to wilder terrain. The path became less defined, winding through patches of tall grass and clusters of gnarled trees. The air grew cooler, carrying the faint scent of pines.

The landscape took on a more rugged appearance. Jagged rocks jutted from the earth like the teeth of some ancient, slumbering beast. The vegetation became sparser, with hardy shrubs and twisted trees clinging tenaciously to the increasingly rocky soil.

Dave decided to pick up the pace. He took a deep breath and scanned the land for any dead souls.

Finding none, he moved all of his soul points into Agility. His muscles seemed to hum with newfound energy, and his steps became lighter, almost springy. He set off at a brisk jog, the landscape blurring past him.

As he ran, Dave marveled at the alien beauty of this world. Bizarre flora dotted the path - flowers that seemed to follow his movement, trees with perfectly triangular or hexagonal leaves. Occasionally, he'd pause to catch his breath, leaning against a tree or perching on an oddly-shaped rock.

During one such break, he muttered to himself, "You know, Sherlock, if it weren't for the constant threat of death, this place would be quite lovely."

The violin in his mind played a few wry notes in response.

After about five hours of alternating between jogging and brief rests, Dave finally arrived at the familiar sight of the waterfall. The roar of cascading water filled the air, and a fine mist cooled his sweat-drenched skin. He approached the edge of the river, his eyes scanning the area where he had found the unfortunate adventurer's remains.

"Alright, Sherlock," Dave said aloud, shifting his soul points into Wisdom. "What's our best move here?"

The violin began to play a slow, thoughtful melody. As the music washed over him, Dave pushed all of his points into Wisdom and Intelligence to recollect what he knew about the Prismatic Beetles. He felt his mind sharpening, analyzing the situation from multiple angles. From what he understood from the souls of the bugs he consumed, the bugs lacked eyes and operated entirely on a sense of "life".

Perhaps if he could coat himself entirely in mud, then he could deceive them.

Sherlock began to play a tense tune that Dave eventually recognized as the music from the Predator theme.

Dave smiled. "If it works for alien hunters, it might work for metal bugs."

Without further hesitation, Dave knelt by the river's edge and began scooping up handfuls of thick, dark mud. He slathered it over his ragged clothes, arms, legs, and torso, wincing at the cold, slimy texture.

"So gross," he grumbled, working the mud into his hair and across his face. "I hope that I am right about this, Sherlock, or I'm going to look like a complete idiot."

Sherlock replied in wry violin tones.

"A dead idiot, yes," Dave nodded.

Once he was thoroughly coated in mud, Dave gripped his bone knife tightly and began to move slowly and deliberately towards the area where he knew the bugs resided. He crouched low, using the sparse vegetation for cover.

As he crept forward, Dave's ears strained for any sound of the metallic insects. The soft whisper of wind through the grass and the distant rumble of the waterfall were soon joined by a faint, rhythmic clicking.

Dave froze, his heart pounding. He could see them now - a small cluster of prismatic beetles, their metallic carapaces gleaming in the sunlight.

A massive boar, easily twice the size of any he'd seen on Earth, lay sprawled on the ground, its hide a patchwork of gaping wounds. The prismatic beetles swarmed over the carcass, their razor-sharp mandibles tearing through flesh and bone with frightening efficiency.

"Appetizing," Dave thought, his stomach churning at the sight.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on redistributing his soul points. He pushed a significant portion into Dexterity and Agility, feeling newfound precision in his movements.

With agonizing slowness, Dave began to crawl towards the feeding frenzy. Each movement was calculated, his mud-caked body inching forward with glacial patience. The soft squelch of mud beneath him seemed deafening in his ears, but the bugs remained focused on their grisly feast.

As he neared the outskirts of the swarm, Dave closed his eyes, slid mud atop of his eyes with his left hand and tightened his grip on the bone knife in his right.

Then, he mentally activated Phantom Sight. The skill showed him the world even with his eyes shut, as a dark gray plane, bits of the dead boar painting the metal insects with colorful sparks.

In one fluid motion, Dave lunged forward, driving the blade into the nearest bug with pinpoint accuracy. The creature let out a shrill, metallic shriek as it died.

Instantly, Dave froze, his body rigid as he tried to mimic the contours of the muddy landscape. The other bugs paused in their feeding, their antennae twitching in agitation.

"Don't move, don't breathe," Dave chanted internally, his heart hammering in his chest.

After what felt like an eternity, the bugs resumed their feast. Dave let out a silent sigh of relief and prepared for his next strike.

This dance continued for what seemed like hours.

Strike, freeze, wait for the bugs to stop freaking out, repeat. With each successful kill, Dave's confidence grew. "Maybe I'm getting the hang of this adventuring thing after all," he thought.

But his luck couldn't hold forever. As he dispatched his thirty third bug, a glob of dried mud slid from his face, revealing pale skin.

The nearest beetle let out an alarming series of clicks, and suddenly, the entire swarm was on high alert.

"Oh, shi-" Dave's curse was cut short as he frantically shoved more points into Strength.

The air filled with the sound of clanging metal as Dave fought for his life. His bone knife flashed in the sunlight, parrying mandibles and finding weak spots in the bugs' armor.

The swarm was bigger than the one he fought before and the battle was tough. The mud caked clothes helped a touch.

One by one, the bugs fell to Dave's attacks. As he impaled the last Prismatic Beetle on his knife, Dave collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving.

He knelt beside the fallen bugs, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. With a grimace, he reached out and touched the nearest carcass, activating his Phantomancy.

As he absorbed the bug's soul, a flood of information washed over him.

He moved from bug to bug, each absorption adding to his understanding. By the time he finished, Dave felt as if he was a metal bug himself for about a minute.

Then he absorbed the far bigger and brighter soul of the dead boar. Sadly, the boar was too big and rotting, covered with very questionable metallic-looking mold, so Dave decided to leave its corpse in the wild.

With a grunt, he began shoving the bug carcasses into his scruffy bag. "Good thing these things are lighter than they look," he commented to no one in particular.

As he worked, the violin in his soul commented on something. Dave pulled up his stats and found that he had extra points now.

"Well, would you look at that," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "Looks like bug murder pays off."

Without hesitation, he pushed the additional points into Vitality. "Thirty-three point four two," he mused. "Not too shabby."

His task complete, Dave made his way to the waterfall. The roar of cascading water filled his ears as he stepped into the cool spray, washing away the mud and bug ichor that caked his skin and clothes.

Feeling refreshed, Dave set off back towards Shandria, settling on a balance of Vitality and Agility.

After a few hours of jogging, a peculiar whistle cut through the air. He paused, glancing around. "Probably just some weird bird," he muttered, resuming his run.

But the whistling persisted, growing louder and more ominous with each passing moment. A chill ran down Dave's spine as he realized this was no ordinary bird call.

"Okay, time to move," he said, pushing everything into Agility. His muscles hummed with energy as he took off at a sprint.

The whistling intensified, becoming a deafening shriek. Suddenly, something slammed into his side, sending him tumbling across the ground. As he struggled to his feet, he caught sight of his attacker.

What looked like a comet made of blades unfurled before him, revealing a grotesque creature that seemed to be a nightmarish fusion of bird and lynx. Six legs, each tipped with razor-sharp talons, supported a body covered in metallic feathers that glinted like knives.

"What the shit are you?" Dave gasped, frantically shoving everything into Strength.

The creature let out a shriek and lunged. Dave met its charge head-on, his enhanced strength allowing him to grapple with the beast.

The fight was brutal and swift. Dave's bone knife connected with the creature's body, each blow jarring his bones. In return, the monster's bladed feathers and talons sliced through his skin, leaving a crisscross of cuts across his arms and torso.

With a final, desperate heave, Dave managed to stab the beast through the right eye.

As it fell lifeless to the ground, he staggered back, his vision blurring from pain and blood loss.

Pushing everything into Vitality, he closed his eyes and sat down, waiting for his body to start functioning again.

When he opened them he noted that something was flashing on his wrist.

[Affliction: The Kiss of Felislice. Malady State: Severe.]

He read the notice with a groan.

Dave stood over the fallen Felislice for a few minutes, his chest heaving with pain. Blood trickled from countless cuts across his body, staining what remained of his tattered clothes.

With a grimace, he knelt beside the bizarre creature, its metallic feathers still glinting in the fading light.

"Let's see what secrets you're hiding," he muttered, placing his hand on the beast's cooling body.

As he activated his Phantomancy, Dave felt the now-familiar rush of energy flowing into him. The Felislice's memories flooded his mind - flashes of soaring through alien skies, diving at unsuspecting prey, the thrill of the hunt. He saw through its eyes, felt the wind beneath its bladed wings, experienced the primal joy of the kill.

Dave shuddered, both from the intensity of the experience and the realization of how close he'd come to becoming this creature's meal. This monster was a killer of men, preying on the weak, low level adventurers who lacked armor, spotting the humans from the sky as they returned to Shandria.

"Right," Dave sighed as he slotted the points from the bird-cat's soul into Vitality. "When I get some cash for selling your blade ass I'll... definitely invest in some armor."

With the addition of the Felislice, his Vitality now sat at:

Vitality:

0 + [34.4832]

[Phantomancy level 4 reached]

His bracelet suddenly notified him.

"Hooray," Dave exhaled. "Numbers going up. Just wish that getting stronger wasn't so effin' painful."

With a groan, Dave began the arduous task of stuffing the Felislice's corpse into his bag. The metallic feathers clinked against each other, creating an eerie melody as he worked. "You'd better be worth something," he grunted, straining to fit the last of the creature into the overstuffed sack.

Finally, with his bag bulging and considerably heavier, Dave began his slow journey back to Shandria.

Each step sent waves of pain through his body, the numerous cuts stinging with every movement. He hoped that the extra Vitality would accelerate his healing, but the wounds seemed stubbornly resistant.

The landscape that had seemed so vibrant on his outward journey now felt oppressive and threatening. Every rustle in the underbrush made him flinch, every distant cry sent his heart racing.

Hours crawled by as Dave limped onward. The weight of his bag grew more burdensome with each passing minute, the metal bugs and Felislice corpse an anchor dragging at his already depleted strength.

Sweat mingled with blood, creating rivulets that traced paths down his dust-covered skin.

When Dave came within view of Shandria, his body was screaming in protest with every step.

As he stumbled forward, the world seemed to tilt and spin around him, his vision blurring at the edges.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, a familiar sight caught his eye - the Cambria Snail Cafe.

Its whimsical shell-shaped structure stood out against the cloudy sky, a beacon of... well, if not safety, at least familiarity.

Feeling his legs threatening to give out, Dave lurched towards the nearest empty table. He collapsed into a folding wooden chair, gripping the edge of the table to keep from sliding to the ground. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he could feel warm blood seeping through his tattered clothes.

As he sat there, teetering on the edge of consciousness, a familiar voice cut through the fog in his mind.

"Well, well, well. Look what the fates dragged in," a familiar playful tone resounded.

Dave lifted his head with considerable effort, meeting the foxgirl's ocean-blue eyes.

"Wowza, you look like you've been through a meat grinder," Cedez commented, settling down on the chair across from Dave. "What happened?"

"Went to kill some bugs... ended up cuddling a Felislice," Dave tried to joke, feeling slightly better now that he was sitting.

"Aw, you went out early in the morning," Cedez commented. "I totally missed you leaving Shandria."

He closed his eyes for a bit trying to relax.

When Dave opened his eyes he saw that a steaming latte materialized in front of him, courtesy of Cedez's lightning-fast service.

Dave winced as he shifted in his seat. The aroma of the freshly brewed latte wafted up to him. He stared at the cup.

"You know, I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in the dragon's lair." Cedez said as her eyes studied Dave. "So, tell me about your Felislice battle. I'm dying to hear how you managed to survive an encounter with one of those nasty buggers without armor."

"It wasn't exactly a planned encounter," he said, his voice hoarse. "I was on my way back from Prismatic bug hunting when this... damn thing... came shrieking out of nowhere. Looked like someone had crossbred a lynx with a flying food processor."

Cedez's ears perked up, "And you're still in one piece? Most folks who tangle with a Felislice end up as chopped up food."

"Believe me, it was a close call," Dave grimaced, reflexively touching one of the deeper gashes on his arm. "I got lucky. Managed to stab it through the eye with my bone knife."

The foxgirl whistled. "Not bad at all for a freshly-summoned tater!"

"Thanks," Dave exhaled.

"Now, tell me, brave razor-hugger," she said, her voice taking on a playful, almost conspiratorial tone, "how did your dragon quest go? Did you serenade the scaly beast? Woo her with your manly charms? Or did you perhaps try the old 'trip and fall into her arms' routine?"

Dave stared up at the dark foxgirl. "I... what? No, I didn't... There was no wooing!"

Cedez's face fell dramatically. "No wooing? Not even a little flirting? Don't tell me you chickened out!"

"I didn't chicken out," Dave protested. "We just... talked. Sort of. Remicra... was grumpy. I gave her bugs for free and got bandages in exchange."

"Grumpy?" Cedez commented, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ooh, playing hard to get, was she? How deliciously cliché!"

"Yeah, there was no romance, no conquest. Just a very annoyed dragon smith and a very confused me," Dave said.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Cedez shook her head, her ears drooping in mock disappointment. "This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Fess up, where did you screw up?"

"I screwed up by being reincarnated in this bloody ridiculous place!" Dave snapped.

"Come now," Cedez said. "Surely you didn't expect a fantasy world to be all rainbows and unicorns? Although, we do have those too. They're just, you know, slightly more stabby than Earth storybooks suggest."

"How exactly do you know so much about Earth?" he asked, his voice filled with suspicion.

"Oh, that?" she said with a casual wave of her hand. "I dated a summoned in another life. You pick up all sorts of interesting tidbits when you're romantically entangled with someone from Earth who can't keep his mouth shut about cars, skyscrapers, Star Wars and aeroplanes."

The casual way Cedez dropped such a bombshell only added to Dave's growing unease about the foxgirl. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more to Cedez than met the eye.

"Another life?" Dave pressed. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cedez leaned back in her chair, her dark tail swishing lazily behind her. "Now, now," she chided playfully, "a lady must keep some mysteries, mustn't she? Also, why aren't you drinking your latte? I've made it with love and tears."

Dave eyed the latte suspiciously, as if it might suddenly sprout wings and fly away. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm so broke right now, I couldn't afford to pay attention, let alone a fancy coffee."

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to find the strength to leave. It just wasn't there. His legs were done, refused to cooperate.

Cedez rolled her eyes dramatically. "The latte is on the house, you adorable disaster. Consider it fuel for your next misadventure." With a flick of her wrist, a slice of cake materialized in front of Dave.

"Did you just teleport that cake from a mystical bakery dimension?" Dave asked.

"Nah," Cedez said. "Fetched it when you closed your eyes. You're pretty injured and not paying attention."

Dave couldn't help but notice that Cedez was completely ignoring the growing line of customers, her blue eyes fixed on him with an intensity that made him wonder if she was trying to read his mind or set him on fire. Possibly both.

"You had one job, Dave," Cedez said with a twinge of annoyance. "One simple, straightforward quest. Slay the dragon, free the princess. It's practically Adventure 101. How did you manage to mess that up?"

Dave stared at Cedez, his mind reeling from the whiplash of her jokes. He felt like he'd stumbled into a particularly confusing episode of a sitcom where he didn't know the script.

"I... what?" he managed. "Are you still on about that? There was no princess to free. Just a very angry Remicra who I'm pretty sure would have turned me into a Dave-kebab if I'd tried anything remotely romantic."

"Oh?" Cedez leaned forward, tail swishing. "Details, darling. Where did you spend the night?"

"At the pits," Dave sighed, accepting his fate and chewing his cake.

"You slept in those dreadful pits when you could have stayed at the cozy lighthouse? For shame!"

"Cozy?" Dave sputtered. "That place was about as cozy as a furnace! And I'd rather not have my wrists broken, thank you very much."

"Just think of all the juicy romantic tension you missed out on!" Cedez insisted.

"What?" Dave nearly choked on his latte.

"This isn't rocket science Dave," Cedez said. "Go back to the lighthouse and slay the dragon with your dashing smile. Where'd your radiant Charisma go, hrmmmmmmm?"

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering if it was too late to go back to the bone city. At least there, the only thing trying to kill him was everything, not an overly enthusiastic, prying foxgirl obsessed with dragon-matchmaking.

"Look," he said, trying to inject some sanity into the conversation, "I'm just trying to survive here. Romancing blacksmith dragons is pretty low on my list of priorities, somewhere between 'learn to juggle fireballs' and 'become best friends with a mimic'."

Cedez's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Now there's an idea... a mimic dating show! The experience is even better than a dragon, some say! Sixty-nine tongue-tentacle-thumbs up."

"No!" Dave interjected quickly. "That's not an idea. That's the opposite of an idea. That's an un-idea."

"You're funny," Cedez giggled. "I like you. I think I'm going to keep you... Forever."

"Forever?" Dave repeated, his heartbeat intensifying at the odd choice of words.

"Oh yes," Cedez leaned towards Dave, her voice dropping down to a whisper. "Necromancers are exceptionally hard to find these days, on the account of how illegal you are."

"What?" Dave actually choked on his latte this time around, coughing and sputtering.

"Gotta keep your friends close and your enemies closer," Cedez said with a deviously wide smile. "Don't you know this saying by Sun Tzu, my darling Earth-man?"

A dark ring akin to an inverted angel's halo wreathed from a dark wisp of smoke came into existence above her head.