The Gate Traveler-Chapter 3B6 - : Smooshicorns

We flew over the ruined city in the morning to get an idea of what we had to work with. Surprisingly, there was only one type of monster, and not that many of them. Every few streets, we spotted another one lumbering along. From the air, they looked ursine, with broad bodies, but each had a long, straight horn in the middle of its forehead, like a unicorn.

“I don’t think we should use scrolls,” I said, eyeing the scattered monsters below. “There aren’t many of them, and they’re spaced far enough apart that we don’t have to worry about one coming to another’s aid.”

Mahya tilted her head. “So you’ll join us in fighting them?”

“Yeah, I’ll help clear the city, at least. Still not sure about the dungeons. I don’t feel like fighting, but I don’t want to get rusty either, so we’ll see.”

She studied my face for a second, then gave a small nod.

Al squeezed my shoulder in silent acknowledgment. I wasn’t sure what that was about, but I didn’t ask. At least he’d stopped sulking about the ants.

“Rue will protect John!” Rue promised, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. Waves of happiness rolled off him through our bond, almost overwhelming in their intensity. Yeah, I hadn’t gone into dungeons with them for a long time—no wonder my boy missed fighting alongside me. I’d have to make it up to him.

Mahya landed the balloon, stored it, and we continued on foot. Two streets in, we spotted the first monster.

From above, I had thought it was some kind of bear derivative, but seeing it up close proved me wrong. It had the broad body of a bear, but that was where the similarities ended. Its legs were powerful and built for speed, like a big cat’s, similar to a cheetah or a puma. The strangest part was its face.

Round, with big googly eyes and a pig-like snout, the whole thing was smooshed in, almost like a pug. Not that it looked canine, just the flat, scrunched-up shape of it. A long, straight horn jutted out proudly in the middle of that bizarre creation. Up close, it was even longer than it seemed from the air, nearly a meter long. The base was thick, about ten centimeters across, tapering to a wickedly sharp point, with circular ridges running along its length every few centimeters.

The smooshicorn was busy digging through a pile of rubble with its paw, allowing us to observe it undisturbed. Suddenly, it lifted its head, locking onto us with its big, googly eyes. A strange sound, somewhere between a trumpet and a snort, echoed from it, reminding me of an elephant. Then it charged, horn leading the way.

When it was a few meters away, I zapped it, and Mahya leaped onto its back, slicing through its neck in one clean motion. The body hit the ground, and I turned into a crystal.

"Huh! Easier than I thought," Mahya said, cleaning her blade with a satisfied nod.

The next three smooshicorns went down the same way. Mahya and Al took turns jumping onto them and decapitating them. I really needed to work on my Jump skill. Mahya could clear treetops, no matter how tall they were. Al had recently managed jumps of four or five meters. I was still stuck at barely a meter off the ground, and that was primarily thanks to the rise in my Strength and Agility traits rather than the skill.

With the fifth smooshicorn, we discovered something new. As Al moved in to decapitate it, the creature suddenly threw its head up. Al adjusted mid-swing and cut off the horn instead, avoiding a nasty impalement. I turned the body into a crystal, but the horn remained on the ground.

We stood around it, watching and waiting, but it didn’t dissipate.

Mahya picked it up and ran a finger along the tip. A bead of blood welled up almost instantly. “Sharp. Very sharp.”

Al took it from her, testing its strength as he tried to bend or crush it. “Strong as well. It is also cold to the touch.”

“I noticed,” Mahya said, rubbing her finger.

Rue sniffed at it but quickly lost interest. He was in a bad mood today, sulking over his lack of involvement in the smooshicorn hunt. His job was to fly ahead and scout for the next one, which kept things moving, but it wasn’t the kind of action he wanted. He understood there wasn’t much else for him to do, but that didn’t stop him from huffing every now and then and sending me waves of boredom through our bond.

I took the horn from Al and turned it over in my hands. “It’s full of mana.”

Mahya’s eyebrows lifted. “It is?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and it’s not polluted mana, just regular mana.”

Al frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Very.”

Mahya hummed in thought. “So it has some kind of magical ability too.” She turned to me. “For the next one, don’t zap it. Let it charge us until it switches to using magic. We need to know what it does.”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

The next smooshicorn charged us twice. Rue and I took to the air while Mahya and Al jumped out of the way. After the second failed charge, it skidded to a stop, lowered its head, and aimed its horn at Mahya.

A rapid burst of small mana balls shot out, flying at her with the speed of an automatic rifle. She blurred across the battlefield, dodging every shot with inhuman agility. The creature held its fire for a moment, then shifted its aim to Al.

He evaded most shots, but two clipped him—one on his thigh and another on his shoulder.

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“You can zap it,” Mahya called. “It’s not doing anything new.”

I zapped it, and Al finished the job with an extra flourish, cleanly decapitating it. Then he sliced off the horn. This time, instead of staying behind like the last one, it started to dissipate along with the rest of the monster.

“So we need to cut the horn off while it’s still alive,” Mahya mused, tapping a finger against her chin. “Okay, easy peasy.”

“How does that make any sense?” I asked after healing Al. “Stable datum—monsters dissipate. I can accept that part of them doesn’t, like the horn. But why does it depend on conditions? Where’s the logic in that?”

Both of them gave me the same look, a condescending amusement. I could see it on their faces and feel it radiating off them.

“What?” I asked.

Al squeezed my shoulder. “John, how long since you got your Gate Traveler Class?”

I did a quick calculation. “About ten years, if I don’t count the time skips.”

“And you still expect mundane logic from magic?” he asked, dead serious.

I threw my hands up. “Yes, I do! I can accept that magic changes the physical laws of reality. Every time I heal, I see it. But those changed rules should still be constant, shouldn’t they?”

They just smiled at me. I shook my head, thoroughly disgusted.

The description of my Wizard class said that wizards were scholars of magic. But how could you be a scholar of something if the rules and laws kept shifting under you? That wasn’t scholarship—that was gambling.

I shook my head again. “Let’s find the next smooshicorn.”

Mahya laughed. “The what?”

I waved a hand at the spot where the monster used to be. “Those things.”

Now, both of them were laughing.

“Did you not Identify it?” Al asked.

“What for? It’ll just have some stupid name that doesn’t tell me anything. I prefer my naming conventions.”

Now, it was their turn to shake their heads. We were one big family of head shakers today.

At least Rue was on my side. He showed his support by licking my cheek—or more precisely, the entire left side of my face.

For the rest of the day, we hunted smooshicorns. Some fired mana bullets right away, but most charged first. Rue flew ahead, scouting for them, while I zapped, and Mahya and Al handled the horn removal and decapitations.

By late afternoon, Rue couldn’t find any more. We counted our haul—thirty-seven horns. Adding the ones we hadn’t collected horns from, we had taken down around forty monsters. That was fewer than usual for a ruined city.

As we made our way out of the city, Mahya turned one of the horns over in her hands, studying its ridges. “I might be able to make swords out of these with the belt grinder,” she said, tapping the base thoughtfully.

I frowned. “I don’t know. It’s got too much mana in it, and it’s tough as hell. You’d probably ruin the grinder before you made any progress.”

She shot me a look, tilting her head slightly. “You underestimate my skills.”

I crossed my arms and shook my head. “And you underestimate how stubborn this thing is going to be. You can’t feel it, but I can. It’s packed with mana, practically to the brim.”

We went back and forth, debating techniques, material properties, and the durability of our equipment. Eventually, I sighed and waved a hand. “Fine. Try it. But I’m keeping a couple of these for my own experiments.”

Mahya arched a brow, her fingers drumming against the horn. “What are you planning?”

“I want to engrave fire runes on one and use the mana inside to shoot fireballs,” I said, turning the horn over. “Basically, I’m going to make it into a fire-shooting wand.”

She snorted. “Not a good idea.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

She gestured toward the horn. “You’ll still need your mana to activate the runes, so it won’t save you any effort. And once you burn through the mana inside, how will you replenish it? It’s better to use it for something where the mana reinforces durability, rather than draining it outright.”

We argued all the way down the street, voices rising as we laid out our reasoning like two scholars in an important debate. Meanwhile, Al and Rue trailed behind us, snickering and exchanging eye rolls. Rue huffed dramatically, sending me waves of exasperated amusement through our bond. Al, ever the gentleman, made a show of inspecting his nails and muttering, “Children.”

Neither of us acknowledged them. We had science to argue about.

The following day, they boarded their flying swords while Rue and I took to the air. I called on the wind, asking it about dungeons. For three hours, we scouted the city from above, and I pointed out the dungeon locations as the others marked them on the Map. The wind revealed fourteen in total—relatively low for a ruined city. Once we had them all, we returned home.

I expected them to stay behind and clear the first dungeon, but Mahya had other plans—she wanted to play with the horns. The moment we got back, she spread them across the worktable, already reaching for her tools. She poked, prodded, and muttered to herself, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she tested the material’s flexibility and durability. Watching her tinker, completely absorbed in her work, inspired me. If she was going to experiment, I might as well join in.

I grabbed one of the horns and set up in my spell room, sketching rune designs on parchment. My plan was simple: engrave fire runes along the horn, carve activation runes at the base, and connect everything with magic script to form a single, functioning "magical" engine. In theory, it should have worked.

I started with my engraving tools, but the problem became obvious right away. The horn wasn’t just tough—it was impenetrable. My tools didn’t leave so much as a scratch, no matter how much pressure I applied. Even when I infused them with mana, the tips just skidded uselessly across the surface.

Frowning, I switched tactics. Magical chiseling yielded the same results, the enchanted tools bouncing off like I was trying to carve stone with a spoon. Still unwilling to give up, I went to find Al in his lab.

“Got anything strong enough to eat through this?” I held up the horn.

He raised a brow, then pulled a thick glass vial from a cupboard and handed it over. “This is the best I have. If this does not work, nothing will. Please be careful—it will eat through your skin in seconds.”

Back in my spell room, I carefully dripped the acid onto the surface and watched. Nothing. No bubbling, no reaction, not even the faintest discoloration. I let out a frustrated sigh.

As a last resort, I tried direct mana injection, focusing on forcing a pathway into the material. The horn drank in the mana but remained completely unchanged. No cracks, no softening, nothing.

The horn refused to be altered.

It wasn’t the issue Mahya had predicted, but it was an issue all the same. And, as always, it didn’t make any sense. How the hell had they managed to cut it off in one swing—but now that it was off, it was harder than diamond? Where was the logic? The laws of nature? Or just basic common sense? I shook my head in disgust and let out a long sigh. Magic was fascinating, sure, but it still DIDN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!

Late in the afternoon, Mahya barged into my spell room, holding up a horn. “Did you manage to do anything with this thing?”

I let out a long sigh. “No. Too tough.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Yeah, same.”

We looked at each other and laughed. Our entire debate had been a complete waste of time.

“Any idea what we can use them for?” I asked.

Mahya tapped the horn against her palm. “The tip is really sharp. We could use them to stab things. Preferably monsters.”

“Yeah. And worst case, we can always sell them.”

That perked her up. “I bet they’re worth a lot.”

I cast Appraisal.

Thundrayag Horn

Cost 10 gold

“It’s worth ten gold, and my name is better.”

Mahya laughed and waved me off. “Whatever you say.”