by Konrad Ryan
Gruff’s jaw clenched, his voice changed from anger to blame.
“I even ignored your warning that another party already wiped in this dungeon. It’s my fault. Look what happened to Becca. It’s my fault that this entire thing happened. It’s my fault that Becca is like this.”
Scar roared. Fury filled the man’s face. He smashed into Gruff and tackled him to the ground. Scar’s muscles tensed as he rained powerful blows down onto Gruff’s face. Gruff didn’t even try to block as Scar pummeled him over and over. Dull thwacks filled the cavern as each punch landed. Gruff’s face, a bloody mess. Gruff’s health bar dropped several percentage points with each punch, finally resting just under sixty percent.
“You did this! How could you be so stupid, we trusted you!” Scar’s voice was full of venom, fists still clenched. “How could you do this to us after what happened to my brother? You were supposed to be our dungeon leader! Is this why you let me live? Because you felt guilty because you got us into this mess? I literally put my life in your hands.”
With a final blow, Scar pushed Gruff down to the ground. Scar spat in Gruff’s face, got up, and walked over to where Becca’s unconscious body lay.
Even Bunta looked hurt and betrayed.
Tad stood, stunned. How could this be? Gruff had been a spy from the beginning. Tad recalled the figure that had been watching him enter the slime dungeon. Was that the man who paid Gruff to spy? That was why they didn’t turn him away when he first showed up at the dungeon, clueless. That is why Gruff had his back. And that was why Gruff had become his friend. For money. For filthy lucre.
Gruff stood, spitting blood from his mouth.
“Like I said, let’s get this dungeon over with so you guys never have to see me again.”
Tad almost didn’t even recognize the man. Hadn’t thought him capable of such an act. This was his dungeon leader? Tad’s shock once again turned to anger. Scar had said it. The reason Gruff let Scar live was because of his own guilt. He made poor decision after poor decision as dungeon leader for what? Money? A guilty conscience?
Gruff spoke. He sounded like a broken man. “… For what it’s worth… I’m sorry. I didn’t know any of this would happen.”
No one responded.
Silence filled the cavern as the group packed their little camp. Bunta helped tie Becca’s limp body to Scar’s back with some rope pulled from his dungeon pouch. The group exited the cavern from the far tunnel, the same one that Becca first appeared from, with black eyes and a wicked smile.
The party progressed farther into the tunnels. A sound, metal on metal, rang out every couple of seconds. Clang. Clang. Clang. The party moved more warily. Something was up ahead. Without encountering another roach, the winding tunnel opened to reveal a small bricked room. Orange light spilled out through the open boss door.
Only Tad found his voice. “Guys… the boss door… it’s already open.”
Chapter 24
The smell of coal dust, molten iron, and an acrid odor that Tad couldn’t place emanated from the open door. The heat hit him next. Hot, dry air spilled from the boss room. Sweat formed on his brow, his back and armpits drenched in sweat beneath his leather armor. Glowing sunset light spilled from the ornate boss door.
Gruff strode forward first. The rest followed closely. The ground underfoot changed. The dirt floor of the dungeon morphed into rough cobblestone as they stepped through the threshold. Steel cages filled with roaches hung from the ceiling, hundreds of feet above. A waterfall of molten metal was on the opposite wall from where they entered the chamber. The lavafall was the source of the orange light, its oppressive heat surged through the windless cavern.
In the center of the room was a giant anvil as tall as a six-story building. The group walked forward into the shadow of the anvil. Tad couldn’t shake the feeling he was a tiny bug, skittering around in the smithy of some unknown creature. Tad and his group were pests. Unwelcome. Unwanted. Like the roaches, they would be hung in cages and dispatched.
Without a word, Scar pulled out a large coil of rope from his too-small dungeon pouch. Tad wasn’t sure what the man would do with the rope. The anvil was too tall, the thick top narrowed into a smaller base. It would be difficult to climb-
Tad’s thought cut short as Scar crouched and then leapt into the air, soaring seventy feet high, easily clearing the top of the anvil, even with Becca on his back. Scar tied the rope to something and then tossed the rope down for the rest of them. Scar then disappeared from view. Tad’s jaw drop. He’d never seen someone jump so high. Tad’s own jumping ability had improved after increasing his strength. Scar’s strength must be extraordinarily high for a soldier to pull that off. No one else seemed impressed. Business as usual. Still, it wasn’t every day you saw someone fly seventy feet through the air like it was nothing.
Tad was the last to climb the rope. Back in school he had detested gym class, especially the rope climb. He never got far off the ground even though other kids had just zipped up it like they were half spider. Now it was different. With ten points into strength, climbing a rope was as easy as breathing. His muscles contracted powerfully as he ascended the rope and couldn’t help but be amazed. Was this really his body? His strength? Emotion surged. Despite the fight in the previous cavern, Tad was doing it. He’d grown. He was strong. Fast. Brave. He could even navigate social situations, not well, but he had changed so much. Arm over arm, Tad’s emotions got the better of him. His eyes moistened. He would not cry! How would that go? ‘Hey dungeon boss, nice to meet you, I’m just crying because I’m a big baby. How’s your day been?’
A ghastly voice filled his mind. “It’s been good, but it just got better.”
Oh crap.
“Guys…!”
Tad pulled himself over the top of the anvil. Gruff and Bunta stood motionless. Tad found what they were looking at and froze. Scar stood next to the back of an enormous cloaked figure in the middle of the anvil. A small roach was pinned down by the figure’s scaled and withered claw. It effortlessly ripped off the roach’s chitinous mandibles with a crunch. The creature pulled two iron spikes from the woven straw basket on its back. In a practiced motion, the cavern boss hammered the over-large spikes into the gaping wounds of the tiny roach’s face. Blue energy surged through the roach, flesh healed around the blades, binding to its face. The spike morphed and stretched into metal pincers as the bug swelled and bulged to double its original size.
A chill ran down Tad’s back, despite the heat. Everything fell into place. The last group of slayers had opened the boss room. They were defeated, and the door stayed open. The boss then had access to the monsters in the dungeon, including the slayers themselves. He bolstered their strength and increased the difficulty of the dungeon.
Above the creature’s head in a fiery script was the name of the boss, meant for only Tad’s eyes.
*Legendary Blacksmith Kothar-wa-Khasis.*
The words sent another shiver down Tad’s back. Power emanated from the creature in pulses. Waves. Tad could feel its power in his bones. He was strong. Stronger even than the mosquito boss had been.
“Guys, it can talk. It spoke inside my head.”
“Yes… it’s a rather… new ability.”
The voice in Tad’s head said the words as if it were tasting each one.
Both Bunta and Gruff recoiled at the sudden invasion of their minds. Scar, however, took another step closer to the boss. His hand rested on the Blacksmith’s cloak.
“You. Monster. Fix her.” Scar’s voice was soft, but it carried. His thumb pointed to Becca on his back.
A heinous laugh filled Tad’s mind.
“I already did.”
Scar’s form tensed as he pulled his Meztlegoph’s greatsword from his back. Another raspy laugh echoed through their minds and then sudden quiet. Something shifted in Scar’s demeanor.
“Don’t listen to it Terrance. Whatever it’s telling you, it’s a lie.” Gruff said.
Scar turned back toward the p
arty. His face was full of anguish. The troubled man pointed toward the Boss. “He said he can free her… in exchange for me.”
“Don’t do it Terrance! Think of Tomas. He wouldn’t want this. It’s a lie!” Gruff said.
Tears dripped down Scar’s cheeks. He looked so small as he stood before the towering figure. Like a child in front of his parent. The figure’s ratty cloak rippled unnaturally in the stale air.
“I am thinking of Tomas. I have to do this. I promised my brother I would take care of her.”
With that, the voice once again rang throughout their minds
“You, for her. Done!”
Quick as lightning the deformed claw grabbed Scar by the throat. Yellow eyes gleamed as its other claw, powerful, muscular, grabbed two black nails from the basket on its back. Before Tad could even blink, the legendary blacksmith Kothar-wa-Khasis completed another masterpiece. In a smooth surge of motion, he drove both the spikes deep into Scar’s cheekbones, just below his eyes. Scar’s body rippled as a flood of blue energy pulsed from his core to his extremities. His entire body swelled and grew, his armor grew with it. A piercing shriek of pain escaped his throat as his lips curled upwards in an insane smile. His teeth morphed, sharpened.
Kothar-wa-Khasis removed his withered, reptilian hand from Scar’s throat as the man turned toward the group. The head of the black nails were flush against his skin. In a film, slick blood wet their surface. Scar’s second pair of eyes. The gruesome image made Tad’s skin crawl. The heinous laugh filled his head once again. It sounded pleased with itself.
“As I promised, she is free.”
Tad’s gaze shifted to Becca, still unconscious, tied to Scar’s back. Kothar-wa-Khasis’s hammer moved impossibly fast. In an instant, everything above Becca’s shoulders exploded into a cloud of brain and bone. The two black spikes that had been embedded in Becca’s head noisily clanged into the anvil below. Tad saw white. Hot anger filled his head as he flew toward the dungeon boss. But Bunta was faster. Their screams mixed as they demanded blood.
In a blur of motion, Scar raced forward to meet the two. Harsh laughter escaped from his puppet throat. Bunta spun to dart past Scar, but Scar matched the motion. His speed enough to block Bunta’s path, gigantic mosquito sword at the ready. Tad sped past the pair. There was no way Bunta would lose. Even to an enhanced Scar. The boss stood fifteen feet tall. Reptilian eyes peered down at Tad. Sharp pointed fangs filled the mouth of the creature in front of him. In one thick claw, the boss held a blacksmith hammer bigger than Tad’s entire body, the muscular arm impossibly thick. Its other hand looked twisted, deformed, claws long and decrepit from disuse.
Tad’s daggers appeared in his hands. He feinted with his left; he drove the entire length of Raekast’s Fang into the lizard’s torso as warm green blood spurted from the wound. A vast shadow appeared over him. Tad realized it too late. The boss intentionally let Tad’s attack land! The giant hammer howled through the air. There wasn’t time to dodge. A loud clang rang out as Tad tumbled across the giant anvil, Gruff tumbled alongside him, a huge dent in his looted shield. The two tumbled right to the edge of the anvil, almost falling off.
“Damn you guys are fast, I almost didn’t block it in time.” Gruff said, breathing heavily. “You need to calm down, anger won’t help you here.”
Tad’s anger surged again. He wanted to tell the man to shut up. What did he know? But the shock of his near-death experience shook him to the core. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins. It’d been too close. Tad calmed down enough to see that Gruff was right. His blind anger almost got him killed. The boss expected it. Waited for it. Had even caused it. The boss made Bunta and Tad dance on his anvil, like marionettes on a string. Even blocked, the force of the blow sent both Tad and Gruff tumbling thirty feet. That attack was deadly. Tad couldn’t take many of those hits directly, even with four-hundred health.
Gruff’s eyes scanned the fight. “Terrance is giving Bunta more trouble than I thought. You help Bunta. I’ll run interference with that lizard freak.”
Tad nodded. Gruff’s health was still at 60% from Scar’s beating, and even though Tad was angry with the man, he needed every point of health if he would stall that monster. Tad’s garb changed instantly to the healer’s robe and crook as he pumped Gruff full of health. Gruff’s eyes widened in surprise at Tad’s sudden wardrobe change, then grunted in pain as the healing energy surged through his body. 42 health drained in a flash as Gruff’s bloody and swollen face knit back together. His health bar filled completely.
His healer set was invaluable. With the fifty percent bonus healing buff, 42 health had turned into 252 as Tad healed Gruff. Gruff gave Tad a nod of thanks before he charged toward the giant lizard. Despite the situation, Tad smiled. With his robes, especially, it felt good to heal someone without completely depleting his own health pool.
Tad wasted no time. He darted toward where Bunta and Scar’s battle raged. Bunta’s twin daggers flashed at all angles, Scar retreated from the attack and swung the mosquito sword. A huge torrent of acid erupted from the hollow tip. Bunta scrambled out of the way of the attack, just in time. The acid ate deep grooves into the metal anvil below. Tad had never seen that attack from the greatsword before. It hadn’t shown up on the identification information. Scar’s insane smile widened.
What a terrifying boss. Not only could it turn your friends against you, but it powered them up almost an entire rebirth rank. Scar was improved on every level. It was as if the metal spikes consumed love, hate, creativity, personality. Everything. It consumed everything and channeled the power, instead, for destruction.
Bunta kicked his speed up a notch. Puncture wounds appeared across Scar’s body. Slices, stabs, found their target as Bunta’s speed overwhelmed even the powered-up Scar. In the furious whirlwind of attacks. Tad didn’t see any openings he could exploit. But there was one thing he could do to end it quickly.
“Ice vortex!”
A liquid pool of ice swirled directly underneath Scar’s feet, icicles climbed the armored legs. His movements slowed even further. Bunta didn’t miss his chance. Daggers flurried faster as Scar resembled a bloodied swiss cheese. His health bar drained in significant chunks. Bunta screamed in pain and anger as he tried to finish his friend. Just as Scar’s health dropped below twenty percent, something changed. A howl of pain tore from his throat. Acid surged from the blade, Bunta leapt back to avoid the attack.
Scar’s health bar showed only a sliver of life, but before they could launch a counterattack, Scar swung Meztlegoph’s Greatsword in circles. The acid grew and grew until Scar stood inside a swirling vortex of acid. Acid flew in all directions, Bunta deftly dodged all the acid, but there was too much for Tad, he dodged as much as he could but a huge blob of acid splashed onto Tad’s chest.
Tad watched in horror as acid dissolved holes into his healer’s robes, his flesh underneath sizzled as acid burned into his skin. Tad grabbed the front of the robe and yanked. The fabric resisted for just a second, then ripped completely as he threw the robe far away from him. Rage exploded in Tad’s chest. His healer’s set. He was so stupid! Why hadn’t he changed back to his armor?
Scar continued to spin, but Tad didn’t care anymore. Scar was his. The man had tormented him from the beginning and had just destroyed his healer’s set. He stupidly sacrificed himself for nothing, putting them all at risk. His anger flared even further. This was all Tad’s fault. Had he just killed Becca like he’d been told to do, none of this would have happened. Scar would be alive; he would fight the boss alongside the rest of them.
Tad jumped backward to dodge more acid. He landed next to Bunta.
“Bunta, let me borrow your gauntlets, just for a second.”
Bunta looked surprised, but he removed the gorilla gauntlets and handed them to Tad. Text appeared in front of Tad’s eyes as he equipped the gauntlets.
*Hands of Meztlegoph: The severed hands of Meztlegoph the Mosquito Conqueror. Increases the strength of the wearer by twenty percent.
Grants resistance to elemental and acid damage.*
Acid resistance. That’s what Tad wanted. Tad would take responsibility. He hadn’t wanted to kill Becca. He hadn’t been prepared to kill another human being. This whole mess could have been avoided. Scar wasn’t human any longer. Neither was Becca. Tad had been naïve.
Like a bullet, Tad flew through the acid vortex. Tad plunged the Raekast’s Fang into Scar’s chest. Scar stumbled backward from the force of the attack, the acid vortex disappeared instantly as the sword dropped from his hands, Scar spun his arms trying to regain balance. The motion exposed his neck.
Tad gritted his teeth as he spun, Raekast’s Fang pulled from Scar’s chest. He hadn’t been able to save Becca. He hadn’t been able to stop Scar from sacrificing himself and becoming a puppet. It was his fault this had happened. Tad screamed, in pain, in anger, in self-loathing. Raekast’s Fang, glinted in the molten light of the giant smithy as it tore through Scar’s throat.
Chapter 25
Scar lay on his side, dead. The picture of Scar with his throat torn out with Becca’s headless body still tied to his back was gruesome. His throat gone, white spine visible from the front. Tad had already seen five dead slayers earlier in the dungeon, but this felt different. He’d known those two. Had a direct hand in both of their deaths. Guilt washed over Tad. The source of the guilt was hard to pin down. It wasn’t because he’d killed a member of his party. Or even that he’d killed someone he’d known.
The guilt came because he had wanted to kill Scar. At least some part of him.
Was this what revenge felt like? Revenge fantasies always left Tad feeling so powerful, like he had taken his destiny into his own hands. Like he finally stood up for himself. Shown others his worth. But what was this feeling? Revenge damaged Tad more than anything Scar had ever done to him. His resentment toward Brad and previous bullies had lumped Scar into the same category. Bully. But what had Scar done to Tad besides make a few snide remarks? Almost all of which had been warranted. Tad hadn’t belonged in dungeons; he’d only made it inside the first one because someone bought his way in.