by Konrad Ryan
Tad retrieved his weapons from the grisly wolf corpse. Had he really done all that? He stored his two wraithford axes into his dungeon pouch and banished Metzlegoph’s greatsword into a void slot, leaving one free, just in case.
He shuddered and reached out toward the iron-rung doorknob. It had been close. Too close. But a calm head and solid planning saw him through it. Maybe a little luck too, though you couldn’t count on it.
Tad grasped the iron handle. He was alive and had leveled up, gotten stronger once more. That’s all that mattered.
A familiar bright light flashed before his eyes as he was once again sucked into the vacuous wormhole. He spun and tumbled through the space, indifferent to the pressure crushing his lungs.
With an audible ‘pop,’ Tad stood in the open door of a small dungeon waiting room. Everyone stared. Some faces showed disgust, but most reflected fear and terror. Tad looked down and realized he was still completely covered in the werewolf gore. Oh. Maybe he should have tried to clean that off.
His blood-smeared bare chest, some of it still wet, was covered with bits of flesh. A patterned blood splatter covered him in large drops, likely from when he had tenderized the last werewolf repeatedly with his greatsword. Metzlegoph’s thousands of tiny needles across the blade had only amplified the blood splatter.
Ethan jumped to his feet from a cushy-looking beanbag chair and pointed with his one good arm.
“Healers! Just what are you waiting for? Heal the poor boy!”
The room sprang into action as the healers surrounded him. Bunta struggled to get at his side, but Ethan held him back, out of the way of the healers. Somewhere in the chaos, Tad could hear the girthy laughter of Fat Jack filling the tiny area. After a moment, Tad’s eyes met who he was looking for. Liz.
She stood in the furthest corner from the door he had exited. A palpable look of relief was draped across her features. Why had she been so worried? He had humiliated both her and himself before he had run off into the dimension door thing.
The healers gasped, startled, but they continued to poke and prod him
“How can this be?”
“He isn’t wounded at all!”
“Then where did all this blood come from?”
A relieved look filled Bunta’s face at the words, finally at Tad’s side.
Ethan clapped Tad on his very grimy shoulder. “Well, that was probably the most intense stick-figure battle we’ve ever seen. At one point we were sure you were dead, eaten by that wolf just sitting on top of you. The other one just came by and left.” A look of hesitation crossed his face so quickly that Tad almost missed it. “I’m not going to judge your, uhh, blood-hobby thing you got going on, but maybe you should head over to Fat Jack, I know he’s got a portable shower somewhere inside that warehouse dungeon pouch of his.”
Ethan then pulled him close, almost in an embrace, his voice barely a whisper. “By the way, I’ve never seen Liz so concerned for a fellow slayer. I think you got a real chance there.” Ethan pulled away with a strained grin, turning to join the clamour of celebration.
A wave of embarrassment crashed against his cheeks, not sure what to make of that last statement. Delaying the inevitable conversation with Fat Jack, Tad handed both the ring of the conquerors and the gorilla gauntlets back to Bunta, upon pulling them off, the missing gorilla finger regrew, Tad’s own, did not. Then he rushed past the gathered crowd to where Fat Jack sat with his stupid ear-to-ear grin. The man had pulled out champagne and glasses, pouring drinks for thirsty slayers, collecting money from others, who had apparently bet against Tad.
“Can I use your shower, Ethan said you had one?” Tad tried to sound more confident than he felt, for some reason the large man intimidated him.
“Sure, I usually charge for that, but you made me a lot of money, winning in there.” Fat Jack’s eyes twinkled. “I’ll let you borrow it, as long as you take that lass that you’re so keen about in with ya.”
And suddenly, Tad was glad that blood was smeared across his face. His cheeks burned so hot he was sure people he passed could feel the heat. The werewolf guts might start cooking at any moment.
Fat Jack gave a baudy laugh and pulled a small winged pig earring from his ear. The earring grew and morphed until it was a miniature pig the size of a large puppy. It flapped its tiny wings frantically, somehow able to stay airborne, and dove into the pouch at Fat Jack’s side. “His name’s Snorky, make sure you thank him.”
After an eternity, Snorky reappeared, dropping a small shower kit with a dungeon pouch that was labeled ‘water’ into Tad’s hands.
“…Thanks Snorky.”
The pig almost purred his response, but Laughter danced in Jack’s eyes.
Tad marched past everyone on his way to the dungeon exit, but his eyes rested on Liz once more. Her own eyes were averted, but her blonde hair looked even more vibrant against the red that touched her cheeks. Tad felt a second wave of embarrassment pass over him, and he stepped from the dungeon.
Tad was gonna kill Fat Jack.
Chapter 30
Tad steeled himself in preparation to reenter the dungeon, refreshed by how clean he felt after his shower. The water had been on the colder side, but the coolness felt incredible against his skin after such a heated battle. Tad opened and closed his character generation window, saying no to it, asking if he wanted to regrow his teeth, but accepting the second prompting to regrow his finger. As suspected, his character generation was more than it first appeared. It was a permanent way to ‘regrow’ any lost limbs or missing body parts. A powerful tool in any void’s arsenal.
A shiver pulsed through his body once more, not at the cold, but from the image he had seen in the small mirror that hung inside of the portable shower.
Had that really been him?
Dark dried blood had covered his face, with big clumps of some unknown fleshy material scattered about. His hair had been stiff with grime. He hadn’t recognized the face looking back at him. His first instinct was that it had been another monster coming after him. Every inch of him had been a gory mess. The water of the shower had stayed red for far too long.
Tad stepped out of the portable shower wearing only his boxer briefs, since they had been the only article of clothing that hadn’t been stained beyond repair. Waiting for him just outside the dungeon entrance was Liz. Tad’s face flushed at his current state of undress.
Liz approached Tad, handing him a bundle of clothes. “Here… Fat Jack said you’d probably need these.” She was looking anywhere but at Tad.
Tad hastily grabbed the bundle from her hands and turned to get dressed. His hands moved faster than they ever had, even faster than in his duel with the werewolf. In fact, he was pretty sure his speed might have even surpassed his limits when ‘speed of the conqueror’ had been active.
The clothes fit him snugly, almost as if they were made for him. In fact, they fit much better than anything he currently owned. His shifting body had made it hard to dress properly, first being chubby, then becoming the world’s most muscular man. He’d pulled out one of his dad’s old shirts from a box in the attic and even that hadn’t been a great fit, not to mention the shirt had seen its days. Tad grunted in satisfaction, admiring his new trendy outfit.
Tad turned back to Liz, who quickly averted her eyes. Tad blushed anew. She’d been watching him dress! His face flushed once more, but the image of the bunnyvoid dressing in the minotaur trial danced in his head. Now, he knew how she felt. Strangely, the thing he found himself most embarrassed about was the pallor of his skin. Even to Tad, his crafted sleek and muscular form looked quite impressive, but his skin didn’t have much color. Today was probably the first time he had been shirtless outside in the sun for many years. Ever since he was even a kid, probably. Good thing there wasn’t a stat to improve your skin tone. Tad would have wasted a few points.
Or maybe she was just looking at him, startled at how quickly he had been moving, startled at his sudden motion. That was probably it.
Liz met his eyes for a moment before gesturing at his torso. “You don’t have many scars. You new at slaying? Or are you just very good at it?”
“Yeah. Only been slaying for about a week now. You?” Tad felt a little disingenuous, as he knew exactly how long she had been a slayer. Liz had been the girl who had cut him in line at his rebirthing ceremony. The one who had ‘stolen’ his warrior rebirth. She clearly didn’t recognize or even remember him. Although he doubted anyone in that group truly forgot they were in the same rebirth group as the boy who had no score. The zero. The voidboy.
But Tad wasn’t about to bring that up.
“This is my fourth dungeon, I was reborn just last week too. Maybe we were even in the same group.” Liz brought one hand up to her long golden hair, twirling it around one finger absentmindedly.
An awkward silence filled the air between them. Ethan’s words replayed in his head. Liz had been worried. Maybe he had a chance. Blaze had said the same thing about Sara, but Tad didn’t believe him, even if her fingers had lingered on his for longer than necessary. Even Kali had given her his number and had told him to call her. Maybe girls did like him, but none had ever made him feel the way Liz had. Clumsy and nervous, yet still wanting to impress her.
The silence stretched. Tad struggled to find anything he could talk about. Finally, something sparked in his mind.
“Where’d you get that sword and shield, the ones with the dragon insignia on it? They look strong.” Tad said. His words came out all in a rush. Why did he feel so awkward around her? His charisma was worlds higher than when he had first been reborn, but it didn’t seem to help him. And his courage was even higher than that! Silently Tad pulled up his stats only to find his charisma had dropped to one and next to his silverfang debuff, a new debuff had appeared.
*Presence of a Potential Mate: When not in combat, your charisma reverts to 1 in the presence of potential mates.*
Tad’s cheeks burned even hotter at reading the name of the new debuff. Even his charisma had abandoned him. How was he supposed to act when talking with girls? He was just glad it hadn’t gone back to negative. Even if he felt more awkward than he usually did around other people, he might not completely blow his chances.
Luckily, Liz was still deep in thought and didn’t seem to notice Tad’s mild panic attack.
“They’re more than strong, to be completely honest. I got them during my first dungeon raid. It was a… special dungeon. Irregular.” Her words were icy, and her distant gaze kept Tad’s eyes to hers in rapt attention. “The dungeon had a fifty person minimum. We brought a hundred-and-five slayers, all warrior rank. But… only four walked out alive. There was a lot of loot. The sword, shield, and helmet were just my cut.” Liz’s voice was flat, emotionless.
The distance in her gaze disappeared, back to the present, back to Tad’s. Her eyes were like deep-blue sapphires set in snow. He couldn’t look away.
Liz continued. “That’s actually the dungeon where my dad, Ethan, lost his arm. You should have seen him, he fought like a whirlwind, no… more like a mad dog.”
Tad felt personally attacked at that last description. He knew about fighting like a mad dog. Even covered in a mad-dog’s entrails. But if only four people had survived out of a hundred-and-five… Ethan’s aura had exuded deadliness since the first time Tad had met him, but he might have only been seeing the tip of the iceberg.
Suddenly the rest of Liz’s words hit home “Wait, Ethan is your dad! But you have different last names!” Tad’s stomach twisted in a knot, reliving once more, Ethan’s words about having a shot with Liz. What kind of dad tells someone covered in blood from head-to-toe to ask out his daughter!
Liz grinned playfully. “I took my mom’s name. Hopefully, you didn’t say anything too embarrassing to him. He takes full advantage of the name difference to get others to say more than they’d usually like.”
Like words from the grave, Ethan’s voice spoke a second time in his mind. She sure is something, ain’t she. Tad could feel his cheeks heating once more. What had he said back? Nothing disrespectful, he hoped. Tad tried to calm his beating heart. He was pretty sure he had just nodded back to the man.
Liz spoke again, dispelling the awkward silence. Her tone and demeanor had changed completely. Instead of dark and thoughtful, her voice had become light, breathy even.
“It’s Tad, right?”
Tad’s stomach surged. Those eyes with that voice… this girl was dangerous.
Liz pointed one finger toward the dungeon entrance with a coy grin. “I’ll forget what happened in there, before you escaped through to your battle, if you buy me lunch after we finish here.”
The image of his face pressed against her chest, before he looked up into her blue eyes blazed through his mind. Being around this girl was more than dangerous; his cheeks might not last the day, might completely burn up. He didn’t know it was physically possible to blush this much, but his cheeks ached. Was that even possible? Blushing wasn’t a muscle, right?
“About that… I was just trying to help. I cast a spell to neutralize the poison, but it didn’t seem like it worked. You stopped breathing and your skin went blue. I was trying to listen to your heart.”
The smile on Liz’s face widened further into a bashful laugh, her straight white teeth on display as a spot of color appeared in her own cheeks. “You were a little too low for my heart.”
Tad was so embarrassed he wanted to die.
No. First he wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and then die. This girl had likely gotten her mom’s unparalleled beauty, and her dad’s sly, teasing wit. Maybe losing to the werewolf would have been the better option than coming out to face what he had done.
But wait. Had she just asked him to lunch? Well, he would be paying, but didn’t that sound like a date?
Liz’s smile was dazzling. And Tad knew anything he would say had the possibility of ruining it. Ruining whatever it was. Any longer and it would start to get awkward again, but he had no idea what to do. In his panic, he reached for his first male role model. Gruff. Gruff would know what to do in this situation. He had a girlfriend, and even a kid! The man had to know something about the ladies. Tad wracked his brain. What would Gruff do? What would Gruff say?
Tad channeled his inner Gruff, best he could. “It’s a date.” He felt immediately stupid. That’s what he said? He watched for Liz’s reaction. Had he been too blunt or brusque? It felt too blunt, but what did he know?
Relief touched her smile, before she turned to look at the distant landscape, averting her gaze. Tad felt a stab of surprise at her relief. Maybe she was nervous talking to Tad too. Probably not as nervous because he felt like a train wreck, like a chain pulled too tight with each link groaning, each watching, waiting to see which would give out first.
Tad found Liz’s eyes on him once more.
“By the way, what did you fight in there? You came out looking like you took a bath in blood or something.”
Tad laughed, the tension in the air melting away. Her description had been spot on.
“I practically did.” Tad hesitated for a second before summoning his new werewolf helmet in a puff of black mist. “It was this guy and his twin, or maybe it was a clone, I’m not exactly sure.”
Liz’s eyes went wide, possibly at the sudden appearance of the item, but most likely at the gruesome sight of the severed werewolf head. Tad jumped right in, telling her about his battle with the werewolves. Their incredible speed and strategy. How Tad had overcome that and sliced the first one in half. Then came the power-up of the wolf after its twin died. A look of revulsion swept across her face as Tad came to the part of the story where the werewolf had sunk its claws in his stomach and squeezed his bowels, how they stuck out, even after he had healed them.
Her look snapped him out of the story. What was he doing talking to a girl about his bowels! Why didn’t he leave that part out?
He skipped ahead to the moonlight barrier, how he fled and he hid under t
he body of the first werewolf, in a shallow pool of its blood, just to recover enough to have a fighting chance. Liz was a great audience, gasping at all the right parts, her eyes locked with his. Man, but she had beautiful eyes.
“So wait. If all that happened, how did you come out of the dungeon unhurt? Without any scars? I mean, I believe you, I watched your whole stick figure battle.” Her cheeks went slightly pink at the admission. “Even if you were healed, somehow, it should have left a pink mark where the new skin had grown and when you came out from the shower there was nothing like that.” Liz didn’t sound like she was trying to trap him in his words, but instead sounded genuinely curious.
But Tad didn’t have an answer for her. He inwardly kicked himself as hard as he could. Of course she’d be curious about that! Tad cursed his big mouth. No way was he explaining to her that he was the pathetic boy who had been reborn directly after her, who had stood on stage with eyes full of tears as he tried not to cry. The only person in the world’s history to be reborn a zero.
“I, uhh… that’s a good question-”
Liz cut the air quickly with her hand, demanding silence. Tad gulped, then regretted it, worried the gulp might be too loud for her liking, but Liz no longer paid any attention to him at all. Instead she was concentrating, listening. Tad was grateful for whatever had distracted her.
Off in the distance, a mechanical whirring and thumping noise could be heard. It sounded like a car, or a plane. The noise was familiar but took a second to place. It was a helicopter. Tad found the source of the noise, even from this distance. He could only see a small bald figure hanging by one hand from the landing gear of the helicopter.
“Tidwell’s bloody shield! It’s Cain!” Her face went white, fear raced across her face. She spun and disappeared into the open black mist behind the door of the dungeon in less than a heartbeat.
Tad’s chest tightened at her reaction. Cain? Who was that, and why had she looked so scared? The whirring of the helicopter quickly approached, and Tad wasn’t sure he wanted to be the only person outside when it got there. The Defector had said something in his note, something about sending someone. Tad pulled the Defector’s note from the dungeon pouch and reread the relevant portion.