Dungeon Master

Dead Dungeon Book Six

S Mays
 Dungeon Master
Dead Dungeon Book Six
S Mays
Mailing List
Facebook
Website
Cover art by: Alberto Besi
© 2021 S Mays. All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events,
or locales is entirely coincidental.
F1
Table of Contents
Title Page

Copyright Page

Dungeon Master (Dead Dungeon, #6)

CHAPTER ONE | Home

CHAPTER TWO | The Return

CHAPTER THREE | The Changed City

CHAPTER FOUR | A Family Reunion

CHAPTER FIVE | Blood and Water

CHAPTER SIX | The Family Tree

CHAPTER SEVEN | Death of a Dream

CHAPTER EIGHT | Hunted

CHAPTER NINE | Obstacles

CHAPTER TEN | Hordes of the Righteous

CHAPTER ELEVEN | Anticipation

CHAPTER TWELVE | Rampage

CHAPTER THIRTEEN | Too Familiar

CHAPTER FOURTEEN | Experienced

CHAPTER FIFTEEN | Carving a Path

CHAPTER SIXTEEN | Double Trouble

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | Deconstruction

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | Crumbling

CHAPTER NINETEEN | The Power of Laughter

CHAPTER TWENTY | Denied

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | Juggernaut of Destruction

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | Weakness

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | Farewell

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | Vengeance

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | A New Dungeon

Author’s Notes:
 Dedication

For William Farmer, who directed dragons in the sky

&
for his Heart, Alice.
 Other Books by S Mays
https://www.s-mays.com/the-good-stuff.html

Please leave a review! They help authors tremendously!

 CHAPTER ONE
Home

T
he jagged, craggy mountains appeared as if blood itself had
frozen in midair, forming spiked protrusions that dared the
heavens to come closer for their deserved punishment. Cracked,
rocky earth of the same hue crunched underfoot. There was no dirt
or sand to soften each step, merely unforgiving stone. The black sky
contained no clouds, yet flashes of red anger illuminated the
darkness periodically.
An earthly red glow on the horizon past the mountains provided
the only illumination as I stumbled across the inhospitable
landscape. It seemed as if the very earth itself was designed to
punish those who trespassed here. Cries and moans filled the air,
but from indeterminate directions. It was as if these were the natural
sounds of this world. As wind, birds, and calls of wildlife and bubbling
streams filled Derode, the sounds of misery and suffering wracked
this place.
The air was thick and black, as if filled with smoke, yet it had no
scent. Merely a heavy, choking presence that felt as if this world
attempted to find purchase within the lungs and body. The air did not
provide sustenance, but rather oppression.
I should have found the source of at least one of the souls who
cried out in pain, but as I attempted to discern the direction and felt
as if I was closing in, the voice moved away. This was the Realm of
Pain, the realm of Castigous.
I’d read the entire Aeon Torment twice, yet this place had been
given no formal name by its authors, whose names had long been
lost to history. The only name mentioned in the God of Punishment’s
holy bible was that of Castigous. None were allowed to intrude upon
His book with their tales and stories. They were nameless figures
who served as object lessons. Those here were punished for their
sins, no matter how minor. Ninety percent of the book was devoted
to the horrors and punishments Castigous would visit upon the
world. The ones who felt his wrath were insignificant in the grand
scheme of the tales.
I continued my march toward an unusual formation on the
horizon that grew slightly more distinct as I walked for what seemed
like hours. The great strength I’d gained had fled me. I should have
been able to leap across the gaping chasms and rock shelfs that
barred my path, but I felt human again.
After days of trekking through the wastes (or was it minutes?) the
large, rectangular structure loomed in the distance, surrounded by a
red haze. Was it a castle? A wall? The scale of it was larger than
anything I’d ever seen in my life. It dwarfed the surrounding
mountains.
Two glowing red lights in the sky appeared, each larger than a
town. They were burning obtuse triangles of ferocious rage that felt
as if twin suns had been born in seconds. My mind attempted to
decipher what I was seeing as the lights began to descend. They
traveled down and away from the rectangular structure until they
paused at the halfway point. That’s when they blinked.
“I...recognize...you,” a voice filled with pain and anger said before
a blast of hot wind sent me flying away.
Jerking awake, I reached out to steady myself, barely avoiding
falling to the stone floor of my bedroom.
Zarah materialized beside my bed. “Are you all right? I heard you
scream.”
I never would have thought I’d think of the air of the dungeon as
refreshing, but compared to the dream I’d just had, it tasted like a
sweet day during Lifebloom.
“I was in Castigous’ realm. I saw him. He...saw me.”
A jimp brought over a tray that held decanters of water and wine.
I chose the water, ignoring the creature’s offer to pour it. I felt utterly
parched and chose the entire vessel.
Zarah nodded. “Most likely nightmares brought on by the fact that
you infected my dungeon with bugs and grotesque insect monsters.”
The water was ice cold. Rivulets ran down my face and chest as I
gulped it down in seconds and replaced the decanter. Swinging
down from the bed, I headed toward the shower. My well-muscled
body glistened with sweat but felt cold.
“None of Mistress Bitter’s minions are in our dungeon. It remains
as it ever was.”
“No, but I’m now connected to her dungeon, and I can feel them
crawling around inside of me...I feel like I’m full of parasites. Have
you seen what’s on her thirteenth floor? Centipedes made up of the
bodies of men sewn together; their legs and arms are the
appendages, still encased in their armor.”
“I can see the creatures of her dungeon just as well as you can.
Those are powerful minions,” I said as the cool water flowed down
from the ceiling around me.
“They’re disgusting!”
“You keep a pet cockroach that used to be a man, we have an
entire level that is a sewer filled with slime, and Ho’Scar removed a
man’s skin and made a statue out of it. Why would armies of insects
bother you?”
“It doesn’t bother you because you aren’t a Dungeon Heart. One
day I’m normal, the next I feel as if I’m a nest for roaches, leeches,
and worms. Even the psuthal aren’t as repugnant as what Mistress
Bitter has created.”
I wondered if something could be done to soothe my Dungeon
Heart’s concerns. Unlike her usual complaints, the new addition to
the dungeon seemed to genuinely concern her. I beckoned her
closer. “Come. Let me see if I can help.”
“What...are you going to do?”
“Just come.”
She did as I’d instructed and stepped into the shower with me.
The water passed through her. She looked up at me with curiosity.
Gently cupping my hands on either side of her face, I closed my
eyes and focused. I could feel the connections between the three
dungeons. In the black void, I saw Zarah, Shalla, and Asp floating in
the darkness, glowing brightly against the void. Strands of light
connected them and raced away from them at the same time. They
seemed to be in a trance, unmoving with their arms folded in front of
them...I was at once reminded of Castigous’ symbol.
 I motioned toward a strand that ran from Zarah into the darkness
behind Asp, Mistress Bitter’s Dungeon Heart. The strand rose up
and looped around itself until a basic knot had formed. I stared at the
three beautiful ethereal women before me and wondered what they
were. Was this their essence? Their souls? Merely a visual
representation of them in my own mind?
As I reached out to Zarah, my hand brushed something. Three
chains faded into view. Each ran from the Dungeon Hearts’ chests to
my own. Tugging gently on it, I found it to be cemented tight, as if it
were formed directly from my own ribcage.
I knew that if Zarah or I died, it meant the end of the other. Did
the same hold true for Asp and Shalla? Perhaps in strengthening
myself and the dungeon, I’d also introduced new vulnerabilities. I
released my power and traveled back to the real world.
“How did you do that?” Zarah asked as she looked up at me in
wonder. “I...no longer have the same sense of the Nosteran
dungeon. The connection is still there, but I can’t see or feel it.”
“I can’t explain the things I do any longer. This is new territory to
me,” I said as I gazed into her eyes. She smiled, revealing her sharp
fangs. Her midnight eyes shone in the dim light as she wrapped her
arms around my neck.
“It’s been less than a month, but it feels as if it has been a year
since we’ve seen each other,” she said as she embraced me. The
water flowing around me now began to glisten on her red skin.
“In the world I was entrapped in, it felt longer,” I said as I looked
down at her frail form against my body. She was like a small, thin
sapling brushing against a granite mountain. The power I’d acquired
from conquering Mistress Bitter’s dungeon flowed within me. I began
to fear the strength I possessed as I held my Dungeon Heart. A
memory flashed into my mind...one of me holding Aiyla in exactly the
same manner. A pang of guilt followed.
“What’s wrong?” Zarah asked. Her long, black hair clung to her
body.
I pushed Aiyla’s memory away and kissed Zarah passionately.
“Nothing,” I said as the water temperature began to rise.
 CHAPTER TWO
The Return

Y
aug and Mistress Bitter sat on ornate thrones slightly behind
me, to my left and right. Xagrim and Toxin stood resolutely at
the base of the stairs that led to the thrones’ dais, ready to protect
their lord. My three Dungeon Hearts floated in the air to our right.
Zarah quietly strummed a lute as Shalla recreated the scene
upon a large canvas. Her hand disappeared into nothingness each
time she required more paint. Asp stood unmoving. It then struck me
that I’d never asked Zarah what our new Dungeon Heart’s abilities
were. It seemed they all had some artistic passion or skill. Perhaps
that is why they’d made such excellent Hearts for their respective
dungeons. I sent a subtle mental suggestion to the newest Dungeon
Heart.
Asp jerked to the side, the swirls of wispy sash that covered her
nude body barely keeping pace as she leapt to the other side of the
room, spinning about as she reversed direction. Zarah looked up
from her lute and smiled. The tempo picked up as she began to sing
a song that slowly built—in speed and in strength. Asp adjusted her
movements to the music, dancing across the air as if it were solid
ground. Her gyrations were both exhilarating and calming at the
same time.
“Is she not a marvel?” Mistress Bitter said from over my left
shoulder.
Indeed, her movements would have been impossible for any
normal human. They even shamed the dances of Zhalix, the artisan
blacksmith who had forged much of the armor and weapons we used
throughout the dungeon. Casting a glance toward Shalla, her
painting zoomed into focus and loomed around me, as if I’d entered
it. I could have sworn the painted image of Asp was dancing along
with the performance before me.
“Enough,” I said as my head swam. The three Hearts stopped,
looked toward each other and nodded, a look of mischief on their
faces.
“I’m going into the city tomorrow,” I announced.
“Master, is that wise?” Yaug’s hollow voice asked.
Zarah’s lute faded away. “Alone?”
“I can hardly march to the city surrounded by goblins. I’ll have
Kyo and Sessi shadow me, and I’ll take several summoning disks.
There is a merchant encampment several miles away. I’ll disguise
myself as a mercenary and enter the city with them.”
“You should wait to see if my spies can infiltrate the city, Master,”
Mistress Bitter said.
“Each day that I delay allows more time for my enemies to move
against me. I fear it may already be too late. If they haven’t been
successful so far, I don’t believe sending more will change that.”
“Forget New Vadis,” Zarah said. “Your place is here.”
“The dungeon and its power were always merely a means to take
the city and make our enemies pay, which we’ve done. I won’t throw
that all away because of fear.”
“There are merits in your concerns, Master,” Yaug said as he
stroked his bony chin. “No doubt your enemies have noticed your
absence by now. If you truly wish to rule New Vadis, you should
return immediately.”
“Whose side are you on, you bag of bones?” Zarah asked.
Yaug looked as if he were about to admonish her but looked to
me and thought better of it.
“No, speak freely. I value your input,” I said.
“We know the Merromonts have been building their base of
power and that the Uxper Orthodoxy still holds sway in the city. The
guards you placed around Old Vadis have abandoned their posts
and disappeared. Your trusted confidants within the city haven’t been
seen for weeks. If you truly mean to rule the city, the only logical path
is to return and ascertain what has occurred,” Yaug said.
“Leave the dungeon and expose yourself to the dangers of the
upper world? I can’t imagine anything more foolish. You should bring
an army of burrowers and tunnel to the city. Collapse the cave, bury
the city, and use the humans as raw material for more soldiers. Loot
the resources and move to the next city,” Mistress Bitter said.
 “I didn’t spend a year rebuilding the city to destroy it. I’ll
reconnoiter the city and return to the dungeon if anything is amiss.”
“Send some agents first,” Zarah pleaded.
“I should send Toxin. Perhaps Setha?” I asked.
“They would be perfect!”
“...as well as a Collective that would be needed to interact with
the portable Soul Sphere so that they could exist outside the
dungeon for a length of time? How well will a massive floating head
blend in?”
Zarah frowned and slumped.
“I know the city better than anyone here. I won’t needlessly risk
my life.”

I NEEDED TO ADJUST my armor yet again. If I grew any larger, I’d

have to be fitted for a new set. The metal creaked ominously as I
flexed my arm. I wondered if Zhalix had returned from the Land of
Death. The jimp assistants tugged on a few final straps before I
waved them away.
Zarah looked me over. “I’m not completely convinced anyone is
going to be fooled. There aren’t many mercenaries wearing such
armor, looking like you do, that are hired to protect a simple
merchant caravan. Maybe a famous lord or lady, or a leader of a
guild, but...”
“I’ll wear a cloak...a normal one, not one related to Castigous.”
“Still...what do you think, sisters?”
Shalla and Asp appeared to either side of me.
Shalla frowned. “No one is going to be fooled.”
Asp shook her head. The black flames surrounding her flame
jackal head flickered ominously. “No. Only an idiot will believe he
was an ordinary guard.” Her heavy Nosteran accent reminded me of
Aiyla for a moment. Her bestial head mated to her graceful and firm
dancer’s body was such an unusual juxtaposition. She cocked her
head to the side when she caught me studying her.
 “Allow me to assist, Master,” Shalla offered. A brush appeared in
her hand. She looked me over before nodding and dipping it into
unseen painting materials. The serpentine Dungeon Heart went to
work first on my face, then on my body. I felt nothing as she
seemingly painted over my entire form. Knowing her paints were
pulled from the blood and fluids of prisoners, I was relieved it also
had no scent.
She stowed her brush and slithered around me to inspect her
handywork. “I am...finished.”
“Amazing,” Zarah said as she leaned in and touched my chest
with a finger.
“Satisfactory.” Asp nodded.
I wasn’t able to discern any difference in my appearance.
“You look the same as you did before, except about twenty years
older, your armor’s scratched and dented, and you look as if you
haven’t bathed in a week,” Zarah said, apparently stifling a laugh.
“The illusion should last a day or two, but —”
“But you aren’t sure of what direct contact with sunlight or going
outside the dungeon will do to it. I understand,” I said as I checked
over my gear.
“Should we send the goblins if you don’t return by a certain
time?” Zarah asked. She looked genuinely worried.
“No. Without proper training or leadership, they’ll most likely be
wiped out if they directly attack the city. Have Mistress Bitter put
together a strike squad with a Collective if I don’t return or send word
within a week. Show them the maps of the city Grandpa Fi — I
mean, Eberl and I put together with the help of Yisan and Drundt. If
I’m captured, which is unlikely, I’ll most likely be held either in the
dungeons beneath the Castle or the Arbiter Citadel.”
I paused and looked at the three Dungeon Hearts. All three
seemed anxious about my departure. Zarah and I had grown close
since I’d taken over the dungeon, but Shalla and Asp knew they’d
likely die if I was killed. I wasn’t sure if Yaug or Mistress Bitter could
survive without me now that they were under my control. Perhaps
the control would snap, and they would regain their freedom. My
instincts told me that was an unlikely outcome.
 “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in a day or two,” I said as I kissed Zarah
and strode out into the night air toward Honor Road. It would likely
take an hour to walk the distance to the merchant encampment,
especially if I wanted to avoid any patrols. At least my journey would
have company.
“No men close,” came the familiar whisper in my mind.
“Greetings, Kyo, Sessi,” I returned.
The younger wolf, Sessi, trotted up to my right and nudged my
hand onto his head. It looked like he’d put on another twenty pounds
since the last time I saw him. He was now larger than his mother. I
chuckled at the idea of me riding him to the encampment.
“Have you seen anything unusual in the past weeks?” I asked.
“Hunting far in big rocks, not here,” Kyo explained. An image of
the mountain range in the distance appeared in my mind.
Sessi paused and listened. “Men come.”
We moved off the road into the nearby woods and watched as a
group of guards passed. Once they were out of range, we continued
our journey.
“Once I’m inside the city, I want you to remain in the woods close
by in case I have need of you. Stay away from any humans and
don’t let them see you,” I said.
“Understand. Can hunt?”
“Indeed. Hunt all you wish.”
She seemed pleased with the answer. I wondered why they had
been hunting all the way near the Chaff Mountains, but then the light
of the encampment came into view. We circled through the forest so
it would seem we’d come from the opposite direction instead of from
the city. I openly approached the lone man standing guard. He
looked as if he’d almost dozed off when he finally noticed my
presence.
“Hold! Who are you?” he asked.
“Merely a weary sellsword looking for a place to rest. I’m heading
to New Vadis. I saw your fire and smelled the delicious food and
thought I might stop to see if I could travel with you. Perhaps you
could use my protection for the night.”
 The thin man studied me for a moment before nodding toward
the fire and numerous carts and horses. He seemed to be measuring
what I would do if he told me no. “We aren’t far from the city. We
have no need for a sellsword. We’ll be fine without you.”
“I’m willing to pay,” I said as I pulled out a small purse of coins. I
had ten times the amount in my bag, but showing him too much
wealth would make him suspicious.
“Pay? Since when do sellswords pay the merchants they seek to
protect?” he asked suspiciously. He obviously didn’t want to fight me,
but perhaps he was thinking of raising an alarm, which could attract
guards.
“My horse was attacked by wolves miles back, and I’ve had to
walk all night. I merely seek a fire, food, and to ride the rest of the
way into the city,” I explained.
He looked incredulous. “Wolves? In these parts? The king has
eliminated them all.”
“Not so, I’ve seen the beasts myself. Massive creatures...their fur
as bright red as a dying man’s blood. Nearly the size of my horse. I
fought them off, but not before they ripped the flanks from my horse
and carried them off.”
“Stranger, you’re describing a crimson wolf. They’re just legends.”
Just then, the hair-raising howl of a massive beast sent a flock of
birds in a nearby tree scrambling into the sky. Panicked cries and
shouts erupted from the camp. The man looked at me with disbelief
in his eyes.
“Y-you —” he began to say before a second howl sounded from
the other side of the camp, not so far into the forest.
“T-two wolves?” he stammered.
I nodded. “Are you sure you don’t want my company tonight?”

THE GATE GUARDS LOOKED over the wagons with disinterest but
kept their eyes on me as we passed through. The man I’d bribed
vouched for me, and we headed toward the markets. The streets
were lively, with decorations strung up on homes and businesses.
The populace seemed to be excited about some event, but I could
recall no celebrations or holidays that normally occurred at this time
of the year. There were more guards in the streets than when I’d last
been in the city. The number of soldiers atop the battlements was at
least doubled from the norm.
I nodded to the merchant as we passed an inn. “Farewell.” I
hopped off his wagon and entered. The inn was busier than I
expected, so I pulled my cloak close. Even with the minor illusion
spell, I didn’t want to risk being noticed until I figured out what was
going on. The entire city seemed to be celebrating something, while
security had been increased.
I picked a booth in the corner and ordered a light breakfast and
some wine. When the barmaid returned, I slapped a gold coin on the
table. “Wench, I just came into town with a caravan from the east.
Why is the city in such an uproar? What is the holiday?”
She smiled, grabbed the coin and slipped it into a pocket on her
apron. “Thank you, kind sir. Indeed, we are celebrating the return of
our king, King Therion.”
I attempted to hide my shock. Was this some celebration Leath
had arranged? He wouldn’t have removed the guards from Old Vadis
merely to surprise me. Why had no one traveled to the dungeon in
weeks?
“Was your king missing? I’m sorry. I thought your king had
returned long ago, after the demise of the previous king.”
“Oh, no, that was the False King, Jagen. The true king has
returned. The pretender’s brother, Knoth, has taken his rightful place
on the throne.”
 CHAPTER THREE
The Changed City

T
he streets were jammed with citizens, as well as guards and
soldiers. I blended into the crowds and attempted to avoid the
attention of any authorities as I moved throughout my city. I hadn’t
seen the city so full since...before the death of my father. It looked
like many of the people who had fled had returned — along with the
military deserters. There were at least a few thousand soldiers and
guards within the city. My instincts told me they were there to protect
Knoth from my return, but if I could find Leath, I would find the truth. I
couldn’t just barge into one of the barracks and demand to see him,
however.
I wandered through the center square of the city and was
surprised to see that a covered monument had recently been
erected. A squad of soldiers stood guard around it, keeping citizens
and merchants away. I was also shocked to see Priests of Uxper and
their young “assistants” openly moving throughout my city.
Traveling through the alleys, I headed toward the guild area. To
my surprise, the massive buildings were now bustling as workers
and members labored. Some of the buildings had been abandoned
during the mass exodus, and others had been damaged during riots,
but now they all appeared to be occupied again. A rage and jealousy
simmered inside me as I’d worked so hard to rebuild the city and, in
a month, it now looked better than after a year of my efforts.
A wave of dizziness overcame me as I steadied myself against
the side of a building. It had been long since I’d regained another
memory.

“JAGEN, READ ME ANOTHER story,” the pudgy young man

pleaded.
 I looked around at my surroundings. Again, I was in my younger
body, in my room. Knoth sat beside me on my bed, a storybook
between us. He was perhaps six or seven, which would have made
me eleven or twelve.
“I have to train with Leath,” I said as I closed the book and set it
to the side.
“Do you think father has ever slain a dragon? Or a giant?” Knoth
asked with wide eyes.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. He looked crestfallen by my answer.
“But you never know. Perhaps he has. He’s traveled all over the
world.” I knew our father would never risk himself in a situation
against a monster. He had Leath and the Royal Guard and guilds for
that.
“I’m going to be a great warrior and kill all the monsters!” Knoth
said as he hopped down and picked up a wooden sword. The
magical toy clanged against the air as he fought an imaginary foe.
“You’ll have to train hard at the Military Academy if you want to do
that,” I said. Knoth abhorred physical activity and preferred to spend
his time sleeping or eating. Leath had all but given up on training him
as he’d done with me.
“Take that, Nosteran!” Knoth said as he smashed the sword into a
chair, breaking one of the wooden back supports.
I grabbed the sword away from him. He struggled for a brief
moment, but I was far stronger. “Don’t do that. You broke my chair.”
“Give it back! I’ll tell Father!” he whined.
I opened the door and tossed the sword into the hallway. “Tell him
whatever you wish. He won’t do anything.”
Red faced and angry, he ran down the hall after his weapon. I
slammed the door and locked it.

A YOUNG WOMAN TUGGED at my arm. “Are you okay? Do you

need a doctor?” I looked around the alley, confused for a moment.
“I’m fine, thank you. A moment of dizziness.”
 “It’s a bit early for drinking, but I won’t tell if you won’t, old timer.
Do you want some company?”
“Old...? Thank you for the kind offer. I’m in a bit of a hurry, but if I
return this way, I might take you up on it,” I replied. She looked like
she was perhaps nineteen and only a few years my junior, but I’d
forgotten about Shalla’s illusion.
“Suits me. Look me up around here any time, handsome. I’m
Ruby.”
I smiled. “May...Uxper bless you, Ruby.”
“And you too,” she said before she wandered off toward a group
of men across the street.
I hadn’t reclaimed many memories of my brothers or my mother
since Orgun had stolen them from me. The shock of hearing Knoth
had returned must have triggered the one I’d just experienced.
Feelings of regret and pity now overcame me when I thought again
of him. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I’d
reached my destination.
The sign out front was carved into a barrel that bounced on a
giant spring. It read, “Taste of Adventure.” It definitely stood out
among the other advertisements on the street. Upon entering, my
eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light and smoke. A fragrant
scent hung in the air. It took me a moment to identify it as Mellow
Weed. A young woman approached me, smiling. Her eyes watered,
and she seemed to be moving in slow motion.
“A customer! Welcome to Taste of Adventure. You can put your
request on the board on the wall over there, my”—she paused to
stretch and yawn for approximately ten seconds —“good man. No
job is too small, and we value every...” She seemed to doze off for a
few seconds before jerking awake. “Welcome to Taste of Adventure.
You can —”
“I understand. I’m looking for Carine. Have you seen her? It’s
important.”
“Carine?” She looked confused as she scratched her head.
“Anyone heard of a Carine?”
“Yeah, that’s the guild leader, I think!” a male voice shouted from
a darkened corner.
 “Have you seen her?” I shouted back.
“Carine’s been out on a quest or something...haven’t seen her in
weeks,” he replied.
I thought of attempting to leave a message, but I was sure no one
would remember. Instead, I grabbed a parchment and wrote a note
for the board. “Looking for Carine Mordu. Reward offered. Please
contact the Master of Old Vadis.” Of course, there was no way to
contact me, but if she stopped by, she would know I was looking for
her.
I stepped back into the sunlight and inhaled a deep breath of
fresh air. I now understood why Carine had been happy to quest with
me, and how some of the guild members had been killed in action
while out on adventures.
I continued on to the streets where the wealthier citizens lived.
Lady Keluthe’s mansion was only a few streets over, and Lorena’s
wasn’t far from that. I ducked into an alley as a squad of soldiers
marched past. Just as I was about to exit, another group of guards
appeared and went into another direction. Casting a look down the
road, I was dismayed to see the entire street was occupied by either
soldiers, guards, or henchmen hired by the elite to keep the
undesirables away from the homes. The area was swarmed with
protection, and they all looked as if they wanted trouble.
Backtracking the way I’d come, I headed over to some of the
seedier bars Leath liked to frequent. Even with my disguise, some of
the barkeeps might recognize my voice, so I questioned a few of the
servers or patrons. Leath was incredibly popular with the citizens, so
I was hoping someone had seen him, but so far, no one had.
I dropped into the Maiden’s Britches and decided to rest for a
moment. This was one of Leath’s favorite drinking establishments,
so I’d had high hopes. Upon ordering a flagon of mead, I questioned
the server, but she claimed she hadn’t seen Leath in two weeks.
Now I was getting worried.
As I pondered my next course of action, two guards entered and
sat at a nearby table. I turned my chair to the side so that my back
was to them. They seemingly took no notice of me, more concerned
with their own ordeals. I noticed they were covered in sweat.
 “He’s a slave driver, that’s what he is,” the larger man said as he
motioned for the barmaid.
“I never would ‘ave come back if I knew he was going to be
workin’ us like this,” his friend agreed.
“He should be grateful for us, but it’s like he’s punishin’ us or
somethin’.”
“Leath was always a tough one, but it’s like somethin’s gotten into
him.”
They continued their complaints throughout lunch before leaving.
I left a generous tip on the table and followed them out at a safe
distance. Judging from their path, they were going to one of the north
barracks. There was a training ground there, and if there was one
thing Leath loved, it was knocking some sense into the soldiers.
Keeping my distance, my suspicions were confirmed as they
passed through the checkpoint that led to the fenced-in training area.
The sounds of clanging weapons, shouts, and grunts passed
through the high wooden fence.
A familiar voice boomed over the din. “Keep your guard up!”
Walking past the checkpoint, I cast a glance into the training
area. Leath pointed a training sword at a man on the ground. “What
did he do wrong?” he asked a group of exhausted soldiers.
I continued on. Leath would have to leave eventually. When he
was younger, he could knock heads all day long, but in recent years,
he’d bang the soldiers around for about two or three hours before
heading to a pub to relax for the rest of the day. He could have
retired at any point after his years of service to the crown, but it was
all he knew. He wanted to make sure the kingdom was protected
long after he was gone.
It didn’t take long for my prediction to play out. Leath left the
compound and headed toward what I assumed was the nearest inn
or pub. I followed, using the buildings, carts, statues, and other
elements of the city as cover. He bypassed a pub, then a second. I
became worried as he picked up his pace. Perhaps he was going to
a meeting or to oversee some defensive position.
I rounded the corner and was shocked to see he’d disappeared.
The street was mostly full of workers and a few tourists, but Leath
would have stood out amongst the rabble. Not wanting to draw
attention to myself, I walked faster while scanning the road ahead for
any sign of him.
I was so worried that I’d lost him that I never saw the assailant
grab me from the shadows of an alley and slam me against the
sturdy wall of a building. I reached for Purgatory, but the tip of a
sword was already at my throat.
“Now, be a nice fellow and tell me why you were following me,
eh?” Leath said.
“Leath, it’s me. Jagen,” I whispered.
Leath looked confused for a moment, as if trying to remember.
“Jagen? Jagen is a traitor to the crown.” He pressed the tip harder,
but seemed unsure of his actions. He looked out to the people
strolling by in the street, perhaps wondering if he should call the
guard.
A kick to his midsection sent him slamming into the building five
feet behind him. By the time he recovered, Purgatory was in my
hand.
“Leath, it’s me...the king. I was gone for a month to attack
Mistress Bitter. Remember?”
He shook his head. “Knoth is our king. You’re an imposter.” He
rushed forward, his blade crackling with electrical energy. I
whispered a quick spell to protect myself from his electrical
enchantment and blocked his first strike, and then his second. He
looked genuinely impressed.
“Stranger, you’ve been trained well. Let’s see how well,” Leath
said as he dashed forward, striking a series of blows that kept me on
my guard. I could tell he was holding back — testing me. The clangs
of our weapons caused several of the people in the street to pause
and peer into the alley. In mere moments, we’d most likely have the
Royal Guard or soldiers joining the fray.
Blocking one of Leath’s strikes, I lunged forward, counting on him
to leap back from the blow, as he’d done dozens of times. If I were
wrong, he’d have been skewered, but he did exactly as I had
predicted. I rushed in, blocking his expected punch and head butted
him hard enough to send him crashing into the wall again. I had the
benefit of being even stronger and faster than the last time we’d
trained, but whatever was affecting Leath’s mind also made him
forget about all of our recent training. He had no idea I was about on
par with his own sword skills.
Before he could recover, I grabbed his wrists and recited a spell
that showed me the magical spells at play. Leath had several
glowing runes creating a circle about his head. It was an intricate
and powerful spell, but not beyond my abilities to remove. The
problem was I needed my hands to do so.
“Sorry about this, old friend,” I whispered as I brought my knee
into his crotch. His eyes bulged, and he gasped as he fell to his
knees. Weaving a series of hand signs, I uttered a high-level dispel
magic spell. The glowing ring of symbols wobbled several times
before shattering into glowing dust that faded.
“Halt!” a man shouted from the street. Three guards stood ready
for combat. A now-larger crowd peered around the guards,
attempting to watch our fight.
“Throw down your arms — both of you!” the burly guard
demanded. I could easily defeat the three of them in under a minute,
but it would only draw a larger response. Fortunately, it didn’t come
to that.
“Lieutenant Ghusit, stand down,” Leath said hoarsely as he
staggered to his feet. I couldn’t imagine what he must have felt like
at the moment after what he’d just gone through.
“M-Master Ghaun? I-I didn’t recognize you in the shadows.
What’s happening, sir?”
“I-I was just sparring with an old friend from way back. Isn’t that
right, Ja-Jasspen?”
“Sorry. We got a bit out of hand,” I said, feigning embarrassment.
Lieutenant Ghusit looked at each of us, unsure of how to
respond. Leath easily outranked the man, but if he were anyone
else, he would spend at least a night in jail for fighting in public. “Sir,
you should really —”
“That’ll be all, Ghusit. On your way,” Leath said in a tone that
indicated he wasn’t going to be dictated to by someone who ranked
so far beneath him.
 “Y-yes, sir!” Ghusit said as he turned to leave.
“Oh, and Ghusit...there’s no need to file a report on this.”
“But, sir, any incidents involving fighting within the city should be
reported, even if it was just sparring. That’s an official regulation.”
“Yes...I suppose you’re right. I’ll come by and do a barracks
inspection when I stop by to review the report.”
“I-inspection?” the guard stammered. Leath was known to be
extremely strict when it came to reviewing the troops and guards.
“No need, sir! I see no reason to bother with a report!” Lieutenant
Ghusit said.
“Fine, fine. I was looking forward to a nap, anyhow,” Leath said.
The guards cleared the rabble from the street. Leath dusted
himself off.
“I’d say I dreamed it, but the aching down below indicates you
just kicked me in the balls,” Leath said with a smile that was
somehow also part grimace.
“Actually, it was a knee.”
“Even better. Why do I feel like I just awoke from a dream? Why
do you look like that?”
“Because you were enchanted. I’m wearing an illusion because
something is wrong with my kingdom. Do you remember what’s
happened the past few weeks? Knoth is king now?”
“I think we’d better find a nice, quiet place to talk,” Leath said.

THE PUB HE CHOSE WAS on the border of where the slums and
the better part of town began. It was almost like a line down the city,
where the rich and the poor separated themselves. I’d worked hard
for the past year to erase that line, but it persisted. The poor were
naturally suspicious of any help from someone such as me. They
figured that anyone who was wealthy was just trying to take what
little they had left.
The weathered sign hung by two unequal lengths of rope.
“Hankard’s Tankards?”
 “Aye, the most watered-down spirits in the city,” Leath said with
resignation. The door squealed like it had never been oiled in its life.
Despite the hour, the place was virtually empty. Most bars would
have started to see an influx of workers by now.
“Now you see why I chose this place,” Leath said as he sat
against the wall so he would face the door. I sat facing him so that
my back would be to the entirety of the room. We ordered two beers
and some stew.
“So, what’s happened, old friend?” I finally asked.
“It started right after you’d left. One of the parties I’d sent out
returned with your brother. They said he’d been held by river pirates
near Ophos.”
“River pirates? I hadn’t heard any such thing from my
correspondence with the city.”
“Neither had I. It seemed far-fetched, but he did seem to be a bit
ragged, thin, and had a few bruises, so something had happened.”
“What of my mother and Gilv?”
Leath shook his head. “Only Knoth returned. He said he’d
managed to leap into the river one night and escape the pirates. He
didn’t know where he was, but he wandered for days until stumbling
onto a farm. The farmer took him into the city, where the guard
notified us, and we retrieved him.”
“Now I’d like you to tell me why my city is calling him ‘king’,” I
said.
Leath’s brow wrinkled, as if he were trying to recall something.
“I...just can’t seem to recall that part. Everything’s jumbled. It’s like
my memories are mixed up.”
“I know the feeling very well,” I said as I sipped the nearly
flavorless beverage. Now I knew why the bar was nearly empty.
Leath ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back. “I
think...some of the noblemen and merchants came back not long
after, along with...the clergy. I remember Knoth with the crown...I
remember arguments with your agents and Kurth. He said
something about a clause in the laws...bah, it’s just too fuzzy.”
“Does Kurth still live in the same place?” I asked. I had a feeling
we’d need to find my royal advisor to find out exactly what had
happened.

IT WAS AFTER DARK BY the time we arrived at Kurth’s home. He

gasped upon opening the door. He recognized Leath instantly, but
stared at me hard for a moment before whispering, “J-Jagen?” He
looked past us into the nearly empty streets. “Come inside before
someone sees you!”
He shut the door behind us and bolted it. “W-what are you doing
here?”
“I might ask the same of you. What has happened in my
absence?”
“Y-you don’t know?”
“Please, elucidate me,” I said as I sat in a rather comfortable
chair.
“I-it-it wasn’t my fault. Your brother...the Uxper Orthodoxy...”
“Just take it slow and tell me what happened. I know that he
returned, claiming he’d been held by river pirates. How did he
become king?”
“As soon as he had recovered, a delegation from the Uxper
Orthodoxy, as well as many of the lords and ladies who had fled the
city, arrived. They invoked a bylaw that said if the king were unfit for
his duties, and the next heir was available, a new king could be
crowned. It was obvious they’d researched and prepared in advance.
There was nothing I could do. On the surface, it was legal.”
“It was a coup, that’s what it was,” Leath said. “I remember now. I
was against it, and I wouldn’t go along. I...I don’t remember what
happened, but they must have gotten their hooks into me and put
that spell on me.”
“Spell? I did find it odd you’d had such a change of opinion,
Master Ghaun,” Kurth said.
“How did they go about proving I was unfit and unable to perform
my duties?” I said.
 “Maximus Denominator Eiclid and others came to the city days
after your brother arrived and stated the church had officially
declared you possessed by the evils of Castigous. They had a writ
from the Golden Pope Himself.”
“I feel honored that head of the church saw fit to help overthrow
my leadership,” I said.
“They had the backing of all of the old royalty. The Merromonts,
the lords and ladies who left the city, the old guild leaders. I didn’t
know what to do. Legally, they had a claim, and you weren’t here to
defend yourself,” Kurth said.
“I suppose this was my fault. It’s apparent that all of this had been
set in motion long ago. They were just waiting for me to leave the
kingdom,” I said. “Is it too late to challenge their accusations?”
“C-challenge? B-but they —”
“Yes or no?”
“Well, technically you do have the right to present your case
before those gathered, but with so many allied against you, I don’t
know how you would —”
“So, it’s settled. Tomorrow we’ll visit my dear brother, and I’ll take
my kingdom back. Now, where will I be sleeping tonight?”
 CHAPTER FOUR
A Family Reunion

T
he gate guard choked upon seeing the three of us early the
next morning. “K-King Therion?”
“Ah, at least someone remembers who I am. Now, open the gate
and let us through.”
“B-but your brother, King Therion...?”
“There can only be one king, and that king is ordering you to
open the gate,” I said.
The man looked toward Leath and then to Kurth. “I’ll have to send
word of your arrival, Y-Your...” He seemed confused about what title
to use.
“No need. They’ve been expected,” a tall, stocky man said from
the other side of the gate.
“Glase...” I said.
“Glase Hvan. It’s been a long time, Jagen.”
“I never thought I’d see one of the Merromont’s men in my city,
much less in my courtyard,” I said.
“We are here as guests of your brother, King Therion,” Glase said
flatly.
“Interesting,” I replied. If the Merromonts were here, then
members of Inevitable Oblivion were sure to be close by. If we
walked through the gate, we’d be stepping into a nest of vipers.
“According to the same bylaws that Knoth used to claim the
kingdom, you have immunity. They wouldn’t dare ignore that,” Kurth
said.
“Son, people ignore the law when it’s convenient for them,” Leath
whispered.
“Take us to my brother,” I said.
Glase nodded, and a group of Royal Guard fell in beside us.
Several hundred more filled the castle grounds, along with some
less-savory looking individuals. We were led into the castle, with
men at various stages of our journey rushing off to inform their
superiors. Perhaps they thought I would give up the kingdom if they
pushed hard enough. They were wrong.
Upon reaching the throne room, the guards reached in to relieve
us of our weapons and gear. Resting my hands on the hilt of
Purgatory, I shook my head. “No. I’ll be keeping my possessions.”
“But...it’s the king’s orders that —”
“The only way we’ll be giving you our weapons is blade first,”
Leath growled. It seemed he was furious over what had happened.
Perhaps more of his memory had returned.
“Leave them be. The king awaits,” Glase said. His tone indicated
he didn’t believe our weapons would be of much use. The heavy
door opened, and we entered the throne room.
Roughly four dozen people occupied the room. My brother Knoth
sat upon the throne. He’d had a new crown made in my absence.
The crown our father had worn had been transformed into the Black
Crown, which rested invisibly upon my brow, unseen to those around
us.
My brother favored our father. Looking at him unnerved me...as if
I were confronting a ghost from the past. The sin of patricide floated
about in my consciousness again after I thought I’d buried it for
good.
Knoth was slightly shorter than myself and years my junior. The
few memories I had of him showed a starkly different young man
than the one before me now. It seemed his time in the Military
Academy had hardened him. Gone were the soft folds of fat and dull
look of disinterest. His tousled blond hair seeped out from under his
crown. He wore expensive and ornate clothing that resembled what
our father had favored. I wondered if some pieces weren’t from
Father’s wardrobe.
Two men stood to either side of my brother. One was obviously a
high-level magic user and the other was Maximus Denominator
Eiclid. The other people in the room were made up of Royal
Guardsmen and what looked to be other casters, priests of Uxper,
and powerful warriors. There were also several rogues in the
shadows who probably thought they were hidden from me.
I looked to Kurth. “Go ahead.”
 My advisor took a nervous gulp of air and cleared his throat
before speaking to those gathered. “J-Jagen Therion greets you. He
is here to contest his brother’s claim to the throne, and we invoke all
of the protections available to us, starting with Section Forty-Nine B,
which specifically states that upon being deposed, the king has the
right to —”
Knoth held up his hand and smiled. “There is no need to recite
the old laws, Kurth. We are well aware of them. My brother has
every right to make his case before the Royal Court. I expected it, in
fact.” He turned his attention to me.
“Jagen, it’s been years since I’ve seen you. You look...like a
totally new person from the brother I remember.”
“Greetings, Knoth. You, also, are not quite how I remember.” I
was at a disadvantage because I had so few actual memories of our
past together.
“Indeed, I’ve endured much recently. The pirates were most
inhospitable. I was lucky to escape with my life.”
“I wasn’t aware there were pirates operating in that area of the
kingdom.”
“Yes. They do try to keep to the shadows.”
“What of Mother and Gilv?”
“They have yet to be rescued. I’ve sent several platoons of
soldiers from both New Vadis and Ophos to track them down. If it’s
possible, we will save them, along with the other slaves.”
I didn’t believe a word of it. “Speaking of slaves...I see the Uxper
Orthodoxy has been welcomed back into the city.”
“Oh, Jagen. You’ve always had a penchant for rhetoric. There are
no slaves in New Vadis. Those are their devoted assistants, learning
to walk the path of enlightenment and wealth,” Knoth said.
Denominator Eiclid nodded solemnly and drew a holy symbol in
the air.
“Indeed,” I said as I eyed those gathered. Even with Leath, it
would be a tough battle. With the summons I’d brought, it would
most likely be equal, depending on the skills of the magic users in
the room. There was no telling how many would die.
 “Please, arrange a room for my brother. You’ll be gathering
witnesses to attest to your claim to the throne?” Knoth asked.
“We have a list here. If messengers could be sent to them, we
will present our case,” Kurth said. A servant approached and
retrieved the parchment.
“Fine. I look forward to it. As you know, my claim to the throne
won’t be legally solidified until we resolve this. If Jagen is fit to wear
the crown, by order of birth, he has the legal right.”
“Then why have you assumed the throne, Knoth?” I shouted back
— perhaps with a little too much force.
“You were missing. In addition, the revered priests of Uxper state
you’ve come under some sort of perverse possession by an evil god,
and you now do his bidding. With the mysterious...death of Father, I
had no choice but to do my duty.”
I had to admit, when put that way, his motives seemed logical.
Worse yet, they were legal, and he had the will of the church and
most of the city behind him. Despite lines of succession, rulership of
any city was basically determined by power and popular support. I
was at a severe disadvantage.
“We’ll call together your witnesses, and each side can plead their
case. We’ll follow the law to the letter, brother. I have no doubt this
will be settled quickly,” Knoth said.
“Thank you, brother,” I said. Despite my best efforts, I could bring
no more memories to the surface concerning Knoth. The company
he kept provided me with information on the type of person he was,
however.
“Show Jagen to his room. We’ll reconvene later today once your
witnesses arrive. Feel free to ask for anything you wish. We’ll set you
up in the envoy area of the castle for now.”
The rooms in that part of the castle were massive and
resplendent, but also fortified and isolated from the rest of the castle.
I had no doubt nothing short of a platoon of powerful adversaries
would be placed between me and the rest of the castle.
“I’ll be needing a room near Jagen,” Leath said.
Knoth looked surprised, but smiled and nodded. “But of course,
Leath. I’ll arrange a room for Kurth as well, so your entire delegation
can be together.” No doubt he now realized Leath had broken free of
their enchantments.
It sounded ominous, but we had no recourse. I still felt we could
most likely fight through much of those gathered if necessary. I was
more worried about what forces might be hidden in the rest of the
castle.
Upon arriving to the luxurious suites, I motioned for Kurth and
Leath to join me.
“Do you believe he’s genuine?” I asked.
“It would seem so. He’s offering you sanctuary and so far, he is
following the protocols,” Kurth said.
“Knoth has always been a hard one to figure out, but I never
cared much for the company he kept. He became your father’s
favorite once you started to rebel. Your father wanted him to one day
inherit the kingdom. I’m sorry, but that’s the way he felt. I know you
can’t remember much, but that’s how I saw it, Jagen,” Leath said.
A sudden realization occurred to me. “Do you think Father sent
me to Nosteran to remove me from contention for the crown?
Perhaps he wished something would befall me that would allow
Knoth to become the heir?”
“I...never thought of it that way, but your father was a shrewd one.
I figured he just wanted you out of the kingdom so you’d stop making
trouble. He knew you’d never do anything to Aiyla, even before you
fell in love with her, so I couldn’t figure out why he sent you there, but
it makes sense.”
“Will Knoth honor the law, Kurth?”
“I’ve seen no indication that he won’t. He followed the law in
gaining control of the crown, so it’s only logical he’ll honor your
claim. Once your witnesses appear on your behalf, they’ll testify to
those gathered. Your brother will present his side.”
“And who will rule on it?”
“I believe those gathered will voice their concerns and a vote will
be taken. You each get five witnesses, and you will be allowed to
state your case.”
“Then it’s lost before it begins. They have far more votes than we
have,” Leath said.
 “No. It may seem like a lost cause, but Jagen actually has an
ironclad claim on the throne. They would have to prove without a
doubt that he is not the true son of the king, or that he has somehow
been compromised by enemy control and is not acting of his own
free will. Jagen’s witnesses merely bolster his support with their
testimony and evidence. Knoth will have a difficult time proving
Jagen has tried to harm the kingdom since assuming power.”
I looked to Leath. “What do you think?”
“Son, I don’t know a lot about politics or the law, but you’re knee-
deep in a pit of milliscorpedes who want you out of the picture. I’ve
been around long enough to know the only real law is that the people
with the high ground have the advantage, and we’re sitting at the
bottom of a canyon right now.”
“I don’t have much memory of Knoth. How do you think he will
respond? Is he one to keep his word?”
“He idolized your father growing up and has tried to follow in his
footsteps. I served under your father, but he only kept his word when
it benefited him, and he made sure anyone who knew he didn’t keep
his word wasn’t around to tell the tale. Your brother came back from
the Military Academy a changed young man — a bit harder, more
determined, colder. He doesn’t have your gifts, but he isn’t one to
underestimate.”
“I’ve faced my own trials and I’ve come out of them more
powerful than before, old friend. If they have deception in mind,
they’ll soon come to regret their actions. I intend to take back my
kingdom.”
“Then you may have to make a decision, son. Would you kill your
own brother for the crown?”
I thought of what I’d first done to my great-grandfather, Orgun,
and then my father. “I hope that is a choice he won’t force me to
make.”
 CHAPTER FIVE
Blood and Water

K
urth left to meet with my witnesses shortly after our meeting. I’d
called for Lady Keluthe, Lorena Sharde, Carine Mordu, and
even Lord Fedege. I asked each of them to bring anyone and any
evidence along that they felt would vouch for my rule and character.
Leath would also provide witness to my time as king.
The truth was after I’d overthrown my father and upset the
balance of power in the city, I’d made enemies of the majority of the
most powerful organizations and members of the elite. If what Kurth
said about my claim was true, none of that should matter. I feared
what would become of my brother if I resumed power. It seemed he
wanted to restore the old ways — those of slavery, corruption, wars,
and lies that were meant to keep the population under the thumb of
the rich. If he wanted that, then I saw no path forward for him in my
kingdom. In fact, we would be enemies. Perhaps he was being led
astray by those he felt he could trust. Could I convince him to see my
side of the issue?
I must have been lost in thought for hours because an attendant
soon knocked and said it was time for the meeting. The sun had
begun to sink below the horizon. It was odd to have such an
important event after dusk, but when the balance of power in the
kingdom was involved, it made sense that everyone would want it
settled immediately. I donned the pieces of armor I’d removed and
followed the young woman into the hallway.
Knocking on Leath’s door, I became concerned when there was
no answer. Surely he would have returned by now?
“Ah, Master Ghaun has gone ahead to meet with the other
witnesses and your advisors, Master Therion,” the attendant said.
“I see.” It was odd that Leath hadn’t notified me he was leaving
without me. I checked over my armor and weapons and fell in behind
my guide. Paranoia began to creep in, despite my efforts to block it.
 Of course, I didn’t need a guide, as I’d lived in the castle all my
life. It appeared the meeting was taking place in the formal meeting
hall, which was large enough for over a hundred people. The
incredibly long table inside had been used for many all-night
sessions between guild leaders, foreign dignitaries, my father, his
advisors, and others. The walls were lined with cubbyholes to hold
important documents and supplies. Sometimes contracts were
negotiated over for days at a time.
Two guards stood outside the large door. It was surprising my
brother wasn’t taking more precautions, but perhaps these two were
merely meant to keep an eye on my delegation, and the true show of
force would arrive with Knoth’s supporters. Still, my instinct
screamed at me that this was indeed a trap.
The heavy wooden door opened inward, revealing a darkened
room illuminated by only a few candles placed along the meeting
table. There was only one window on the far side of the room, and
the drapes were drawn. As my eyes adjusted, the silhouettes of
several figures at the far end of the table revealed that I wasn’t
alone.
“Leath? Lorena?” My hand moved to Purgatory’s hilt as the hairs
on my neck stood on end.
“Run!” a whisper called out from the far side of the room. I turned,
but the door slammed shut and bolted.
Motioning toward the center of the room, I shouted, “Illuminous
Manifestae!” The blinding globe of light flew down the table and
stopped a few feet short of the end of the table. “What in the name
of...” I said as a horrific sight greeted me.
The former leaders of the city sat at the end of the table —
Lorena, Lady Keluthe, Lord Fedege, and Kurth, but they had been
frozen in place, transformed into golden statues. The transformation
spell slowly overtook the last of Lorena’s face as her eye looked up
at me with fear before hardening into metal. Leath and Corine were
notably absent.
I jerked to the side just as the first rogue slipped in behind me.
My armored elbow smashed into the side of his face, crushing half
the bones in his head. Purgatory slipped free of its scabbard,
catching another rogue in midair before he could reach me. His right
arm bounced off the wall as he crashed into the table. I uttered
several spells in inhuman succession, weaving hand signs as I did
so. Sigils of power and complex diagrams illuminated the room just
as a hail of bolts and daggers bounced harmlessly away from my
barriers. The rogue scrambling to rise to his feet burst into flame as
darts of ice raked the walls and shadows, eliciting cries of pain from
the unseen ambushers.
The table flipped over, revealing several armored soldiers who
were not from the city guard — mercenaries, no doubt. I blocked the
first man’s blow and cast a lance of ice that shattered against his
shield, but the second ripped through his plate leg armor, sending
him to one knee. The second man shoved his comrade aside and
brought his mace down on my shoulder. The armor dented slightly,
but the blow had little effect on me. I curled my fist into a ball and hit
the man so hard, the dent in his helmet was twice as deep as the
one I’d suffered. He stumbled back, blood spurting from his visor and
out from the bottom of his helm.
Turning my attention to an area among the shelving, I sensed a
powerful spell in the midst of being cast. A quick spell of my own
sent a lance of flame into the shelving, igniting it and whoever was
behind it. Screams of agony now replaced the whispers of a spell.
Another rogue descended from the ceiling, this time looping a
chain about my extended arm, hooking it tight. Before I could react,
the drapes at the end of the room parted, revealing three powerful
priests of Uxper. Their gleaming staves and lanterns filled the room
with a dazzling holy light that instantly weakened and partially
blinded me. As they drew closer, their power grew. A second chain
from the darkness hooked my other arm.
“Hold him, you fools! He’s but one man!” one of the white-and-
gold robed priests hissed.
Jerking my right arm ripped the rogue from the shadows and onto
the end of my sword. Flicking the impaled man toward the priests,
the rogue crashed into the three of them, knocking one of them
unconscious. I felt a measure of my strength return as his lantern fell
dark.
 The door slammed open, and a dozen more men filled the far
end of the room, screaming for my blood. The trap spell I’d cast upon
entering triggered, sending an electrical arc coursing through the
clustered men, killing half of them instantly and dazing the others.
The rage at seeing my allies reduced to statuary filled me as I
began to cast a spell that would have sent several fireballs into the
doorway and hall, but my carelessness allowed an unseen caster to
counterspell me. It would take several moments before I could use
my magic again, so I barreled into the stream of seemingly never-
ending soldiers and began hacking and slashing with abandon. If
they were going to take me, they’d have to do it over the bodies of
their comrades.
Another light from the hallway burned into my eyes like a hundred
sunrises. It was at least twice as powerful as the ones from the high-
ranking priests behind me. That’s when I saw the face of my
tormentor. “Eiclid! You coward!” I shouted as the powerful holy magic
drained my strength. A bolt of lightning slammed into me, numbing
my body and sending stars dancing across my vision. Lashing out, I
felt my blow crash into the side of one of the soldiers, caving in his
armor as well as several ribs.
“Hold him down!” a voice cried out.
“He’s not human! He fights as if possessed by a hundred devils!”
“Get another chain on him, fools!”
The priests’ lanterns drew closer. I felt their prayers hammering
into me, wracking me with pain, weakening me, attempting to cloud
my mind. If I’d been in the heart of my dungeon, I would have had a
chance, but so far away from my base of power, it would not be
enough. My voice had been silenced, my arms and body bound by a
dozen spells, prayers, chains, and ropes. A fire burned somewhere
as a small army of men screamed and fought. Grabbing the face of
one, I squeezed, feeling his cheekbones collapse in my grip.
A stinging sensation alerted me to the dagger in my back.
Twisting, I saw Dusk smile and slip into the shadows as I swung at
empty air. I could feel the poison racing into my bloodstream as my
heart hammered like a drum in my ears.
 Purgatory slipped from my grasp, but still I thrashed against the
mob. Men died in my grip, calling out to Uxper, for comrades or their
families. The blinding lights from Uxper’s accursed lanterns faded
from view as bodies piled atop of me. They hammered and kicked,
like infants trying to drag down their fathers. My vision blurred until I
could no longer see. The pain of something slamming into my helm
knocked the fight from me, and a second blacked out the world.

THE SMELL OF THE ROOM indicated my predicament before my

eyes fluttered open.
“Look who’s awake! Our old friend, Jagen!” a voice exclaimed
from just out of my view. My head and arms were immobilized by
something. I was in a metal stockade. A thin man with disheveled
brown hair and wild eyes bounded into view. His features, including a
cleft palate, a humped back, and a gnarled hand that ended in one
finger indicated the man had been born with several unfortunate birth
defects.
“Do you remember me, Your Highness? Do you?” he asked as he
leapt up and down in place.
“Unfortunately,” I replied.
I was again in the Arbiters’ torture chamber, beneath their citadel.
The room was approximately the same size as Ho’Scar’s chamber
and filled with many of the same devices. Unlike Ho’Scar’s tools and
machines, all of these were simply mundane mechanisms. Spikes
within the Iron Maiden had rusted through; the chains along the walls
still held bits of flesh on their manacles. The thumbscrews still held a
thumb...perhaps the rusty twist mechanism had been too much effort
to turn, so they simply cut the prisoner’s hand away rather than
expend the extra effort to fix the machine. Blood, urine, tears, and
feces mixed along the floors, walls, and ceiling of the chamber. Most
people who came here never left unless it was for public execution.
The Arbiters were something of a secret disciplinary force
throughout the kingdom. They were few in number, but my father
had allowed them to do as they pleased when it came to the law.
Torture, murder, framing innocents...nothing was too gruesome for
their order. Upon assuming power, I had the Royal Guard raid the
building, but the scum had rightly fled before I could get my hands on
them. It seemed my brother had invited them back.
A quick survey of the room revealed I was the only current
occupant, other than my jailers and a dozen priests and wizards who
lined the walls. “Oy, keep it down, ya idiot!” a gruff voice said from
my right. The man’s heavy footfalls slapped against the stone floor.
He shoved the first man away and leaned down into my view.
“Do ya? Do ya remember me, too, Princey?” he growled. The
man was almost as big as Ho’Scar and reminded me even more of a
pig than my torturer, who was actually half-pig. His rotted teeth
looked like tiny river rock pebbles covered in algae as he smiled at
me. He wore a leather skullcap, leather chaps, and no shirt. His
bulbous, shiny, grimy belly looked as if it would burst at any moment,
but his well-muscled arms indicated he worked hard at his craft and
had a strength most men couldn’t match. I wondered if his dirty,
blackened nails were discolored from blood, dirt, or some disorder.
He grabbed my hair and jerked my head up before leaning down,
inches from my face. “Because...I remember you, Princey!”
His foul breath made the rest of the room seem fragrant by
comparison. “I recall the smell, but the name eludes me.”
His fist smashed into my nose with a crack. His assistant leapt up
and down in glee. “Hit him again, Dhug! Again!”
Instead, the torturer elbowed the hunchback in his face, sending
him sprawling into several chains that hung from the ceiling. “Shut
yer trap, Rancid!”
A flash of anger crossed the smaller man’s face before he smiled.
Blood covered his teeth. “Oh, don’t worry, we have plans for you, we
do!” It seemed he would take his anger out on me instead of his
employer.
I arched my back against the stocks, which screeched in protest.
My effort was immediately countered by a surge of weakness that
almost brought me to my knees.
 Dhug looked concerned for a moment before it became obvious
that I’d exhausted myself. “Yer a lot bigger than I remember, Princey.
Added some muscle, did ya? It won’t help ya, here. See, they was
ready for ya. Them priests and wizards been workin’ down here for
weeks. You ain’t goin’ nowhere, Princey.”
“I’m afraid he’s right, Jagen,” a third voice said from behind me. If
I recalled correctly, there were some steps leading to an upper floor
on that wall. I knew the voice immediately.
“You don’t want to come down here, Denominator Eiclid. You’ll
soil your robes,” I said.
“That’s Maximus Denominator Eiclid, Jagen. I simply wanted to
make sure the wards were holding. These spells, blessings, and
wards were crafted by some of the most powerful priests and magic
users in the kingdom. If you hope your unholy abilities will save you,
you are mistaken.”
As he spoke, several men descended the steps behind me and
began checking over the walls, ceiling, and floors of the chamber.
Complex mystical runes faded into view. I recognized their purpose
was to cancel any magics in the chamber. I assumed there was
something on the stockade or myself that sapped my strength any
time I applied it. It seemed that while I was within this chamber, I’d
be reduced to something resembling a mortal man.
“Ignatous Globulus,” I whispered as I pointed a finger toward one
of the wizards who was inspecting the magical wards. The spell
fizzled as a red pattern on the ceiling close by flared brighter.
Eiclid slowly shuffled into my view and looked up at the fading
glowing diagram. “A fire spell? You’ll find we’ve placed a defense
against every known magic and dark prayer within this room. You are
not the first of your kind we’ve dealt with, young dungeon master.
Certainly one of the strongest, but not the first.”
“I suppose there’s a reason I’m alive? It seems eliminating me
would have been the easiest route to Knoth’s victory.”
“Not so. Despite your efforts, it’s known you entered the city, and
many are concerned about your brother’s claim to the throne. There
are also other matters we’d like to discuss.”
“Such as?”
 “The Royal Seal is not in the castle. We’ve been told you’ve
taken it into that unholy place you call home. There are also some
valuable artifacts from some of our wealthier donors and the church
that can’t be accounted for. We’d like to know if you have them.
Finally, you’ll sign an official proclamation declaring your brother
king.”
“Is that all? I was afraid you’d ask me something unreasonable.”
Eiclid frowned. He wasn’t used to being spoken to with such
insolence. “Are the seal and the artifacts in your dungeon?”
“I keep the seal in my sanctum. Without knowing which treasures
you speak of, I can’t say where they are. Perhaps hidden under King
Slime. Maybe in a cell near my torture chamber. Perhaps a few of
the best trinkets have been stored within my dragonlich.”
“And where is this sanctum? Our sources were unable to locate
it.”
“Even I don’t know. Perhaps another dimension. It’s inaccessible
from the dungeon.”
“Then how do you access it?”
Several of those gathered had stopped what they were doing and
now listened intently to our conversation. I smiled. “I use a secret
knock.”
“You will tell us what we want to know, Jagen. Save yourself the
pain that is to come and submit to Uxper’s will.”
“I would guess that once I do what you wish, my usefulness will
come to an end. I must endure in order to survive,” I said flatly.
Eiclid sighed and motioned to the hunchback, who jumped with
glee. “So be it. Begin your work, Arbiters.”
 CHAPTER SIX
The Family Tree

T
he torturer paused and cursed under his breath. The lash struck
twice more. I fought to keep the memory of the last time I’d
endured this torment locked away.
“Hells, what’s wrong with this piece of shite?” he asked.
“Perhaps the man wielding it is too weak and couldn’t harm a
babe?” I suggested.
He responded with a flurry of strikes that caused the wizard on
the far side of the room to wince. I barely felt the attacks.
“Why isn’t it workin’? It’s barely leavin’ a mark!” he growled.
“If you want lessons, I can arrange for my torturer to show you
how it’s done,” I said.
A hard kick to the back of my leg indicated I’d struck a nerve.
“Shut your trap, you!”
“When his kind become powerful, their bodies become
stronger...more durable. He’s not human. Not like you and us,” the
wizard said. He wore expensive robes and carried a staff that
indicated that he was a high-ranking wizard, although I didn’t know
his name. His salt-and-pepper hair indicated he was most likely in
his fifties.
“You may have to have your implements blessed or enchanted to
do him any real harm,” another voice said from behind. My jailers
kept at least half a dozen wizards and priests in the room at all
times, to make sure the wards and spells functioned. It seemed they
worked in shifts.
“Can you do it? Bless it?” Dhug asked.
“No, it must be performed at the church. I could give it a light
blessing that would cause harm to creatures such as this one, but it
would not last long and would not be strong enough to cause him
much discomfort.”
“Blast it! I’ll put ‘im in the maiden!” the torturer said as he opened
the stocks and jerked me forward. The spells that sapped my
strength prevented me from choking him to death with the massive
chains attached to my extremities, but just barely. The fact I still lived
and had not experienced any negative effects meant the small Soul
Sphere I’d carried on my person was somewhere nearby, but I had
no way of knowing how much magic it now contained. If I exerted
myself too much, I could deplete it and die, and I had no way of
refilling it while imprisoned.
The large steel container indeed took the shape of an insidious
maiden, its insides lined with pointed spikes that could be adjusted to
either force one to stand completely still for hours or to actually
pierce the skin and cause its prisoner to writhe in torment as blood
slowly trickled from dozens of wounds. On its deepest setting, a slow
death awaited its occupant.
Dhug sized me up and down before making adjustments to the
device. He and Rancid hooked my chains through several slots in
the device and pulled them through, using them as leverage to draw
me into the device. I did not resist.
“Weak as a kitten, aren’t ya, Princey?” Dhug said with a smile as
sweat dripped from his face. He dried himself with a dirty rag.
“I’m not the one breathing hard,” I replied.
His smile disappeared, and he shoved me against the rear spikes
with force. Both men moved to close the front of the device. I leaned
into the spikes against my back to test my theory, then relaxed. The
door stopped half an inch from closing.
“What’s it caught on, fool?” Dhug asked.
Rancid answered, “I-I don’t see nothin’!”
“Well, it’s caught on somethin’! Are the chains out of the way?”
A sliver of light shone through the gap. I watched in amusement
as the two imbeciles attempted to discern the problem. Finally, the
door opened, and a sweat-soaked Dhug stared at me in surprise and
then back to the spikes. There were several light indentions in the
skin of my chest and upper legs where the spikes had rested but had
been unable to penetrate.
“What the ‘ell’s is goin’ on?”
A priest leaned in and inspected the scene. “I’ll have to report this
to my superiors. We expected better, torturer.”
 “Report what? You brought me some kinda freak. It’s not my
fault!” Dhug protested as he followed the priest away, attempting to
argue his case. Momentarily, he returned, and they placed me back
in the stocks.
Despite the uncomfortable angle and the amount of time that I’d
spent in them, I felt very little discomfort or fatigue. I’d had little time
to adjust to the new strength and power I’d gained from subsuming
the two dungeons. Even I had been unaware of the extent of the
changes to my body.
The door clanged open many hours later. I’d dozed briefly after
the incident. Just as in my own dungeon’s depths, I had no idea if it
were night or day, but it was a feeling I’d grown accustomed to. This
time, at least a dozen men entered, some heavily armored.
“You’re sure it’s safe? You saw what he did at the castle,” a
familiar voice asked.
“He’s powerless, Your Highness. I’d stake my life and reputation
on it,” another man answered.
“Good,” Knoth said. A minute later, he walked into view, although
a dozen feet away. He studied me intently for a moment, as if seeing
me for the first time. The cherubic young man I recalled from a few
memories had been replaced by someone that might have been our
father in his late teens. The resemblance was uncanny.
“How are you faring, Jagen? Do you require anything?” he asked.
“A drink of water, perhaps.”
He nodded to the torturer, who looked as if he were about to
argue, but thought better of it. He returned and lifted a ladle to my
mouth. The smell and first taste indicated no poison or tampering,
but I was too thirsty to care at the moment and gulped it down
quickly.
“We just want our things returned to us, Jagen. It doesn’t have to
be this way. I would even let you return to your...dungeon.”
“You look like our father. You sound like him, too. Worse yet —
you act like him. You stabbed me in the back, brother. I’m the king,
whether you like it or not. Something told me not to trust you, but
after father and Orgun, I held hopes that you were different. Perhaps
if I still held my memories of you, I’d have known differently, or
perhaps something happened that changed you for the worst.”
Knoth shook his head, seemingly in disbelief at my accusations.
“Me? I’m the one who’s untrustworthy? You killed our father! You
stole his kingdom and tried to tear it down to suit your foolish ideals!
We lost everything because of you!” He crossed the distance
between us in a flash and lashed out with a kick to my face that
actually managed to cause me slight pain.
Knoth turned away and began to pace, his anger and voice both
rising. “You were brainwashed by those filthy Nosterans! You were
supposed to kill that bitch, but you killed father instead! We fled the
city and lived like paupers because of you, Jagen! Imagine being
terrified of your brother. The one I —”
He paused, as if unwilling to commit to his next statement.
“What?” I asked.
He turned to face me, his hands clenched, and tears in his eyes.
“The one I looked up to all of my life! This isn’t how it was supposed
to be, Jagen! You destroyed it all! Father, the kingdom, Mother and
Gilv, you —” He stared off into space, reliving in his mind whatever
he was speaking about.
“What do you mean, ‘Mother and Gilv’? Where are they, Knoth?”
“They...they should have listened to me, brother. They wouldn’t
cooperate. The others said they were traitors like you. That they
helped you. They let you into the castle and-and...”
“What did you do, Knoth?”
He turned again to me, with fear and hatred twisting his face into
a frightening mask. “I did what had to be done. It’s your fault! Don’t
you look at me like that, brother! Not you! You have no right! You did
this! All of it!”
“Knoth —”
My brother looked at those gathered. Some of them stared at him
in disgust and shock. “Don’t look at me! He is the one that should be
punished!” He glanced around frantically before spying a soldier’s
sword. He shoved the man aside and ripped the blade free, raising it
over his head as he stormed toward me.
 A priest and another man stepped between us and blocked my
view. I wondered if the sword could even kill me in my current state,
but my brother’s remarks had sent my mind reeling. Had he killed the
rest of our family? I felt as if I should have been enraged or
saddened by the fact, but...it was as if I was trying to convince
myself to bring those emotions to the surface, because it was
expected. Instead, I felt a mild sorrow, as if I’d left out a meal that
had gone cold. What was wrong with me? Was I truly the monster he
believed me to be?
“King Therion, I must remind you that we all require information
from your brother. It would behoove you to have him sign the writs
before doing anything hasty,” the priest said.
“Out of the way, fool!” Knoth said as metal clanged against metal.
“How dare you! Don’t touch m —” he screamed before falling quiet.
“His Majesty’s going to rest contently until he’s calmed down,” a
female’s voice said. The armored man to my right stepped aside as
Dusk leaned down and smiled. “I said I’d get even with ya for that
humiliation, didn’t I?” In a movement that would have been too fast
for most people to follow, she brandished a dagger inches from my
eye. “One little prick, and you’d never see again.”
“Dusk...” a voice behind me warned.
She frowned and put the dagger away. “Just remember...I’m
always in the shadows, Jagen. Without Kys here to protect you,
you’re at my mercy. Anytime, anywhere — even here.”
I smiled. “Did Callom ever keep his promise to marry you? I must
have missed the invitation.”
Her dagger flashed with blinding speed, but I moved faster. It
jabbed into my cheek, barely breaking the skin.
“Restrain her!” the man behind me shouted. She easily avoided
the guards and disappeared into the shadows.
The gathered men carried my unconscious brother away. “I knew
bringing him here was a mistake. See to it Knoth doesn’t attempt to
return,” someone said. Most of the group filed out of the room, but
several guards remained behind with the priests and wizards.
“Make sure the rogue is gone and don’t let her return,” the
disembodied voice said before the door slammed shut. The men
searched the room but found no evidence of Dusk. I had no doubt
she could most likely elude their searches, but she wouldn’t risk
whatever agreement she had with those in power by doing
something that angered them.
The room grew quiet. The thin trickle of blood down the side of
my face reminded me I wasn’t completely impervious to harm.
Eventually the torturers would begin in earnest, with powerful magics
backing their torments. I wasn’t sure if they knew the purpose of the
Soul Spheres. If the one I’d brought with me ran out of magic, I’d be
at their mercy and would likely die shortly after.
I thought back to the fate of my trusted advisors...the stark terror
frozen in their golden faces. No doubt the work of the priests of
Castigous. What had happened to Leath? To both my concern and
relief, he was not among the ill-fated statues. Carine had been
missing as well. Had they been eliminated before the attack? It
seemed my list of allies within the city had dwindled to zero in an
instant. Perhaps I’d been foolish in avoiding conflict with the church
and Merromonts for the past year. They’d aligned their forces and
somehow convinced Knoth to go along with them. Despite my
studies and penchant for reading, I’d ignored many of the lessons
learned in hundreds of similar stories.
Perhaps Knoth and my father were correct. Laws, rules and
mercy were for the weak. The strong took what they could when the
opportunity presented itself and wrote their treachery out of the
history books.
I tried to dredge up memories of Mother and Gilv, but none came
forth. As time progressed, fewer and fewer memories resurfaced.
Perhaps most of my past was lost for good. If I didn’t do something
soon, my future would likely disappear as well. The thought of losing
Leath and even Carine hung more heavily around my neck than my
own family.
The door opened, and someone entered. The slap of bare feet
against the stone indicated Dhug had returned. He slowly walked
into view and grinned a sour smile of yellow and brown teeth before
showing me his barbed whip. Even with the wards in the room, I
could feel the strong enchantment on the weapon.
 “Guess who went to see the priests, Princey?” he said before
disappearing behind me. The first lash indicated it was a strong
enchantment, indeed.
 CHAPTER SEVEN
Death of a Dream

T
he angry world raged around me once again. The souls of
thousands cried in anguish, lamenting their eternal torments. I
was closer to the throne this time. Darkness swirled around the
massive form that sat upon it, leaving only his blazing eyes hovering
miles in the sky. The God of Punishment rested miles away from me,
but towered like a vehement mountain above the entire plane of
existence.
Without looking toward me, he spoke. The cries of the damned
rose in volume, as if his very voice caused them pain. “You are a
prisoner of your mind. They are a prisoner of their flesh. This is your
domain, little herald of pain.”
I felt the words were directed at me, but their meaning eluded
me. “What do you mean?” I asked. My voice was like a grain of sand
in the winds that had begun to whip across the jagged landscape,
blowing red dust throughout the realm. It was not possible that he
could have heard me. I took a deep breath to yell toward the god, but
he spoke before I could.
“Punish them.”
Frigid water ripped me from my dream, leaving me dazed as the
familiar chamber materialized into view.
“Wake up, little Princey. We have a new toy,” Dhug said with glee.
It looked like a type of vise with three long prongs designed to pass
through matching loops on the bottom. A key at the top locked the
device.
“It goes on your tongue!” Rancid said as he leapt into view beside
his master.
“Shut up!” Dhug yelled as he shoved the smaller man away
before turning back to me. “It goes on your tongue. We figure this’ll
loosen it up a bit so you’ll talk.”
“I’m to talk with that on my tongue? I predict it will have the
opposite effect.”
 “What? No, you don’t talk with it...it goes on first, then you talk
after, you idiot!”
“Ah, I see.” This device had also been blessed like the whip. It
likely would leave me in excruciating agony. I looked toward two
wizards who sat in a chair on the far side of the room, playing cards
with three priests. The sound of movement behind meant I’d been
blessed with an armed guard today, as well. Perhaps to make sure
my torturers didn’t get too carried away with their new toy. I
estimated I’d been their prisoner for three days. My brother and
Eiclid had not put in another appearance. I thought back to my
dream. Castigous had stated I was a prisoner of my own mind, and
his domain was my domain.
Had it been a threat? Perhaps announcing my failure meant I
would soon be imprisoned in his domain for eternity? It had felt more
like a lesson than a threat, however. What had he meant? Had it
been merely the fevered dream of an exhausted mind fearing he’d
made a grievous error in returning to the city he’d lost?
“I heard tales of yer dungeon, Princey. Some said it had horrors
they’d never even heard of. Well, in this place, I’m the master,” Dhug
said as he placed the tongue torturing device on a furnace.
“Yeah, he’s the master!” Rancid said.
“Hey, don’t go too far!” the soldier behind me said. “They want
him to be able to talk.”
“Shut yer face! I know what I’m doin’,” Dhug said as he rubbed
his hands together. “Get me my thick gloves, idiot.”
“Oh, this is gonna hurt!” Rancid said as he shuffled past me.
Seconds later, he returned with some heavy leather gloves. “Can
I...you said I could...” he said as he watched his boss slide the
gloves on.
“What? Well, I suppose,” the torturer said. “Just five lashes,
though, and make ‘em count.”
The hunchback bounced with glee as he accepted the whip from
his master before shuffling behind me. The first strike hit my outer
leg, which almost buckled from the pain.
“Do it right, or don’t do it at all, halfwit!” Dhug said as he glanced
away from the now-glowing tongue-piercing device. He turned his
attention back to me. “That whore of yours didn’t want to talk, either.
One of the stronger wenches, but she told us all about her daddy
before we was done.”
The image of Aiyla’s death flashed in my mind. The mere thought
of this scum touching her caused me to involuntarily shove against
the stocks, which creaked in return. Two more lashes fell on my
back, but I barely felt them.
“Struck a nerve, have I? Guess I should ‘ave told you about her
before, right? Your father made sure it lasted weeks, but that none of
it showed. Wanted her to look good for the crowds when her head
was cut off.”
Even if I spent the last of the magic in the Soul Sphere, I’d make
this man pay. The red angry realm of Castigous flashed in my mind.
The bolts of lightning flickered in my consciousness. “Don’t
you...even speak of her, you bastard!”
“Oh, we finally got a little emotion out of ya! I figure she was
another inch taller after the rack. Broke one of her arms and brought
in a healer to fix ‘er up. Then...I broke it again.” He paused, cocked
his head to the side, and smiled as he spit the last statement. Finally,
content with the glow of the torture device, he snapped it up from the
fire, holding it up with one hand. “Looks mighty tasty, don’t it?” He
took one step forward before the wizard across the room shouted
out. “Look out!”
A shadow appeared behind the torturer. He turned slowly,
cringing slightly, as if he felt something was about to fall upon him.
The Iron Maiden towered above him, its cranks turning as the door
slowly swung open, its rusty hinges crying out as if the torture device
itself was wailing like a banshee in the night.
“What in the hells —” he whispered before chains erupted from
inside the dark cavity of the maiden, wrapping around his neck and
arms. Slowly, he was pulled inside. “Get it off! Someone pull the —”
he said before the chains yanked him inside and the door slammed
shut. The wheels began to wind the opposite way, slowly pushing the
spikes inward. The priests and wizards rushed to his aid, but his
panicked screams soon turned into a garbled whimper. Blood
seeped through the crevices in the construct.
 “D-Dhug?” Rancid’s timid voice called from behind. “Are
you...alive?” There was no answer. The misshapen torturer turned
toward me, fear etched in his face. “B-by the gods...your eyes...”
“You fumble about with torment, taking glee in the pain of others.
Your own wretched souls seeking to absolve themselves of their sins
through the blood of the innocent. Seeking to draw the secrets of the
world from the bodies of your victims,” I said as I stretched and
flexed. The stockade broke loose and my chains fell away, their
enchantments dissolving. “I foolishly allowed myself to believe I was
your prisoner.”
The soldier behind me broke free of his fear and reached for the
door’s handle, but it would not open. “There is no escape from your
punishment,” I said as the wizards and priests moved away. One
priest edged his way behind a massive tank of fetid water that was
used for dunking prisoners. The wizards moved behind a device that
resembled a giant wagon wheel with upright cogs on the outer rim.
One of the mages finished a spell and drew several magical
symbols in the air before pointing a wand at me. A blue symbol on
the ceiling grew brighter as the spell fizzled. I assumed the first spell
was supposed to remove the ward that blocked his attack, but he’d
fumbled it. The bolt from his wand went wide, missing me by several
feet.
“Warded, remember?” I said. I focused the dark power swirling
within me on the wheel. The ropes around the pegs of the device
inexplicably lengthened and wrapped themselves around the
casters’ arms before retracting, slamming the men’s hands and feet
against the wheel, tethering them between the spokes and pegs,
creating a twisted pretzel of broken men and wood. I wasn’t sure if
the cracking sounds were from their bones or the wheel, but soon
they fell silent.
Uxper’s preachers hid and shivered, but one of the brave souls
stepped forward, muttering the words of power of his god. His prayer
likewise faltered. Resorting to his staff, he focused his belief into the
lantern, which flared brightly. The familiar minor weakness passed
over me, but as a mere nuisance. I focused on the flame, reaching
toward it with my index finger and thumb. Bringing the two digits
together, the flame winked out.
One of the startled priests backed away. “W-what kind of magic is
this? What are you? That crown...”
Looking down at my hands, I wondered the same. A hazy
darkness flowed around me, like dense smoke from a smoldering
log. Its minute tendrils wound throughout the room, as if filling it with
my will. Reaching up, I was surprised to find the Black Crown had
manifested, hovering several inches above my head. I looked back
at the priest. “It no longer matters.”
He opened his bible, the Eternal Investment, and quickly flipped
through the pages until he found a powerful prayer. As he began to
feverishly recite it, I noticed the unusual tongue device laying near
the Iron Maiden. Its glow had faded only slightly.
“No more praise for Uxper,” I said as the device flew through the
air and clamped down on the priest’s wagging tongue. The bolts
tightened down as he ripped at the device, shrieking. The holy man
stumbled several feet forward until he fell face-first over the furnace,
his ornate robes igniting.
A second holy man found himself wrapped in the very same
heavy chains that had bound me. They slithered along the floor,
dragging him into the water torture device. The dunking seat lowered
itself onto his back, keeping him submerged until his struggles
ceased.
When the guard predictably leapt from the top of the steps, his
sword held high, it was of no surprise. It was as if I’d known he’d
drawn enough courage to finally attack after waiting to see if the
magic of the others would be sufficient to stop me. Casually, I caught
his swing with one hand and his throat with the other. He kicked out
several times, punching me with his armored fist as I carried him
toward the rack. The chains looped around the struggling man,
holding him in place. The cranks turned several times until they were
taut, then another quarter turn. The whimpers and moans of the few
survivors behind me ceased.
“Now, tell me where my orb and gear are,” I said as the wheels
began to slowly inch forward of their own accord.
TWO GUARDS FELL TO the sword I’d taken from the one below as
I moved up to the next level. It seemed the Arbiters had yet to reach
their full strength since my departure. Fortunately, the Uxper
Orthodoxy and the mages loyal to Knoth felt confident that their
wards and spells were enough to keep me in my place, as the rest of
the building was rather deserted at the moment.
The warded room was used to store dangerous artifacts
recovered from prisoners. I was surprised they’d kept my items in the
same building I was housed in, but perhaps they’d underestimated
my new power. Without the strength and abilities I’d gained after
conquering Mistress Bitter’s dungeon, it was unlikely I’d have been
able to escaped. Disrupting and peeling away the enchantments on
the door used more of my personal magical stores than I would have
liked.
The orb was nearly depleted, which was reflected in the
newfound weakness I’d felt after my exertions below. A chest
contained everything they’d taken from me. It would take too long to
don the armor, but I considered at least putting on my helm.
Reaching up, I was surprised that the Black Crown had again
disappeared. Forgoing the helm, I shoved all of my armor and
belongings into a magical bag. For now, I’d wear the dull gray
clothes they’d slipped on me upon my arrival.
I’d brought two summoning stones with me that contained Xagrim
and Setha. Inspecting them, they seemed unharmed. I could feel
each minion still inside. Despite my predicament, I likely had enough
magic to summon both of them, but if something happened, I’d be
unable to resurrect either of them. They’d also be weakened due to
the orb’s low magic level. For now, it was better if I attempted to
sneak out of the city without their assistance.
A thought occurred to me just then...perhaps Leath was also a
prisoner of the Arbiters. The two of us together had a better chance
of making it if we were noticed. Looking through the other items and
chests, I found no evidence of Galvas or Leath’s belongings, but I
did find a familiar sack and several other personal effects that I
recognized.
Sneaking down to the holding cells, I dispatched another guard
who was caught unawares. As I passed empty cell after empty cell, it
made sense that there would be few people guarding the
nonexistent prisoners. Only one cell was occupied, and it wasn’t by
Leath.
“Carine!” I whispered into the chamber. The diminutive gnome
was preoccupied by building a small city out of the straw and debris
that littered the floor.
“Who...Jagen!” she cried out. She leapt to her feet and rushed to
the door. “You’re back! After you left, they came and asked me
questions about where you were and what you were doing, and then
they wanted to know where the items you took were, like the Royal
Seal, and also all these other things like this one enchanted painting
or something that the Merromonts had stored in the city, but I never
told them anything, no matter how much they —”
I interrupted her lengthy explanation by opening the door. She
rushed out and hugged me, tears in her eyes. “You came for me!”
“I began searching the city for you, but no one had seen you.
Your guild didn’t know where you were.”
“Those lazy drunk bums. Well, I guess the Arbiters did take me
away in the middle of the night, so they might not have heard...what
are you going to do? Are we going to the castle?”
“No, we have to escape. My brother’s taken the throne
and...killed some of the others.”
“Oh, no! Who —”
“There’s no time. Here’s your gear. Follow me.” We wound our
way through the building, avoiding any occupied rooms until we
reached the main entrance. A Nosteran slave housekeeper walked
in as Carine reached for the door handle. The older woman looked
as if she were about to run and alert the others, but then a look of
recognition came over her. “Your Highness!” she whispered. I held
up a hand and motioned for silence. She nodded and bowed before
slipping out of the room. It seemed I still had a few loyal subjects in
the kingdom, but the fact Knoth had returned slavery to my city
infuriated me. In less than a month, he and his co-conspirators had
undone a year’s worth of work.
Peering through the door, I was relieved to see it looked to be
early in the morn. If the sun had been up, its burning rays could have
weakened me further. It would also be easier to slip down the streets
and alleys in the darkness.
We had to wait for a patrol to pass in the street before we could
eliminate the two guards outside the main door of the building. I
grabbed the right one from behind in a choke hold as Carine
wrapped a length of steel wire around the neck of the other until he
stopped moving. The gnome was strong for her size, probably owing
to her constant work and adventuring. Quietly, I dragged the two
men inside and shoved them into a storage closet.
“We won’t be able to return to the castle. We should head to the
South Gate. The front gate will be well-guarded,” I said as we moved
out into the street, keeping close to the shadows. Merchants and
workers had started to sleepily emerge from their homes to begin
work, even though the markets wouldn’t officially open for another
hour or two.
“Or, if we could get on top of the wall, we could scale down it,”
Carine said as she patted her bag. “I’ve got a rappelling rope and
hook. I don’t suppose we could stop back by my guild to gather a few
of my gadgets?”
I gave her an incredulous look.
“It was just a suggestion!”
We made our way through the streets, evading any patrols by
weaving through side streets and alleys. While Knoth had taken the
city, it seemed some of the guards still followed the patrol routes
Leath and I had set. Having that information in advance greatly
increased our ease of avoiding notice.
Shortly, we arrived at one of the northern wall towers. A small
group of guards milled about outside the door. Just past that, a
stairwell would lead us to the upper wall, where we could scale down
the other side and race into the forests beyond.
I looked to Carine. “You have anything that might distract those
guards?”
 She smiled. “The only question is what you want to distract them
with. I’ve got bombs, flares, gnombots —”
“Preferably something that won’t destroy part of the city.”
She seemed disappointed. “Oh, then I ha —urk!” She appeared
stunned as her mouth moved, but no words came forth.
My sword swung free of its scabbard and sliced the air behind
her. I recognized the laughter from the shadows.
“I told ya I’d always be there, Jagen,” Dusk whispered.
I grabbed Carine with my free hand and supported her as I
watched the shadows for the deadly rogue. Carine stifled her cry, but
I knew she was severely injured. A deep gash marred her right arm
down to the bone, and blood rapidly spread from the wound on her
back.
A few orbs of light would cut down on Dusk’s paths of attack, but
they’d also alert the guards across the street. Carine attempted to
talk, but a thin trickle of blood was the only thing that came from her
mouth. It seemed the poison had partially paralyzed her.
“You’ll either have to leave her behind or....” Dusk said before
something landed beside us. I leapt to the side just as the fiery
explosive ripped through the alley. My leap had carried us a dozen
feet away from the bomb, but much of my clothing had been
shredded. My back and legs had been scorched and several
fragments of wood and metal protruded from my skin, but I was
largely unharmed.
“Curse the gods!” Dusk shrieked upon seeing her attack had
failed. I spun about and swung just as she lunged forward with her
twin daggers. She tucked down, attempting to impale my abdomen,
but my boot caught her square in the face, flattening her nose. She
rolled away, grasping her face with her hands, gagging. She
screamed when she saw her blood-soaked fingers.
I looked to the guards, who were already moving in our direction
due to the explosion.
Dusk smiled and yelled, “Guards! Guards! The traitor Jagen
Therion has escaped! He’s here! He’s attacking the city!”
The men moved quicker and yelled for reinforcements. The few
merchants on the street began to shout as lights in the buildings
around us flickered to life. Dusk had awakened a quarter of the city.
Wary of a second attack from the rogue, I dashed away from the
guards, cradling Carine’s small form against me, trying not to agitate
her wounds. She felt as light as a pillow, but that still meant I had but
one arm to fight as I leapt from the alley and into the opposite street.
Another patrol of guards rounded the corner, accompanied by
several soldiers on horseback. While I could likely outrun any of the
men, the horses were another matter. We’d have the whole city after
us before long.
Racing down a side street, several merchants blocked the way at
the far end. “You there, hold it!”
I lowered my shoulder and barreled through the men, knocking
them against the side of a home. I had no time to be gentle.
Opting to make for the North Gate, I changed direction. The clop
of horse hooves behind us indicated the guards were closing in. I
kicked in the back door of a home and laid Carine gently to the floor
as I retrieved a summoning disk. A moment later, Setha joined us.
Her feline ears twitched as she inspected the room. “In trouble, I
suppose?” In a blur, she pulled her bow from her back and
unleashed two arrows. The feathered fletchings of each grazed my
right and left ears as they flew past. The arrowheads did more than
graze the two guards who’d just stepped through the door.
“I take it we’re still in the city?” Setha asked. “It seems you’ve
attracted a lot of attention, Master.”
“We need to make it through the North Gate,” I said. “I’m
weakened and low on magic.”
“Follow me,” she said as she raced out of the kitchen and down a
hall before leaping onto a stairwell that led to the second floor. The
occupants of the luxurious house shouted from their bedrooms, but
the felae warrior ignored them as she continued higher. Soon, we
balanced upon the rafters as Setha ripped a hole out onto the roof
with her claws and dagger.
She dove outside. “It’s safe.”
I handed her Carine as I clambered through the hole, breaking
several of the boards as I tore my way out through the too-small
hole. Looking down at the torches and crowds gathering on the
streets around us, I realized we were quickly being penned in.
“We’re safe for now, but they’ll be upon us in seconds.”
Setha retrieved rope from her bag and took Carine from me.
“Lash her to me.” Once the gnome had been secured, the nimble
felae leapt to a neighboring roof, scrambling for purchase on the
loose shingles.
I sighed and jumped across, landing hard on the roof. My right
leg crashed through the shingles and into the building, but Setha
helped pull me free.
“I’m not as light as you,” I said as we jumped to the next roof,
leaving a crowd behind.
“Which way?” Setha asked.
I pointed to the top of the north wall keep. “There.”
“There look to be twenty houses between us and that,” she said
as she leapt to the next building.
We moved quickly toward the gate, but I was dismayed to see
squads of soldiers also moving toward our objective. Our opponents
seemed to have figured out our plan.
“Keep moving!” Setha shouted as she jumped down to another
building.
As I eyed the landing, an arrow arced overhead. “They’ve found
us!” Now it would be a race to see if we could get to the gate before
the crowds.
Setha launched a trio of arrows underneath me as I sailed over
her and continued forward. Shingles and wood splintered and
cracked as I thundered toward our objective. There was no reason to
even attempt to maintain stealth. Setha raced beside me, sometimes
on all fours as Carine flopped lifelessly on her back. I wondered if the
gnome even lived. It was a long trek back to the dungeon, and we’d
have the entire kingdom after us the whole way.
A flurry of arrows clacked around us. Several dug into the roof.
One struck my side, but bounced to the ground, unable to penetrate
my skin. We leapt out into the night air from the last house, landing
on the main street that led to the North Gate. Setha launched arrows
at any pursuers who came too close, including merchants and
citizens.
 Hundreds of people now chased after us, chanting and waving
torches, knives, swords, pitchforks, rakes, and shovels. Mixed
emotions of sadness and anger roiled within me as the citizens I’d
worked so hard to help had now turned against me.
“Kill the blasphemer!”
“Uxper demands retribution!”
“Die, dark king!”
“I’m out of arrows,” Setha said as she began running faster
toward the gate. The groups ahead of us had grown into several
dozen, while the crowds behind swelled with more soldiers. A duo of
armored men bore down on me with their swords, only to be cut
down with a strike that decapitated the first man and continued
through the ribcage of the second. I felt a twinge of regret at the
men’s deaths, but it was either them or us. Even if they were
misguided, I would not allow them to stand in my way.
The crowds howled in rage as the men fell. Rocks, trash, and
other debris rained down on us. We slowly approached the mob
protecting the gate as the others skidded to a stop fifty feet from us.
More arrows followed. Setha dodged several, but one caught her
thigh. The ones that struck me fell to the ground, with only one
barely piercing my back. Setha ripped the one from her leg free and
removed mine in one swift movement and held onto them, along with
any others she could snatch from the air.
“Halt!” I yelled in a booming voice that partially silenced the
crowds. “I am King Therion. As king, I order you to desist!”
“King Knoth Therion is our king, servant of evil,” the guard
captain at the head of a squad shouted. “Submit to the authority of
the true king, pretender!”
I looked over the raging citizens before us. “Did I not strive to
make your lives better? I fought for you all, raised your wages...tried
to create a better life for everyone.”
“Uxper demands that you pay for your crimes, blasphemer! You
work for dark gods! See how the arrows bounce from him! He is a
servant of evil!” a woman shouted.
“My wife died of sickness because of you!”
“My crops withered!”
 “I lost my job because you drove out the old masters!”
Others joined in, blaming whatever misfortunes they’d suffered in
the past year on me. Some were legitimate complaints while others
were ridiculous superstition. Their accusations became more
vehement as they edged closer, waving their weapons menacingly. I
looked to the guards blocking the gate.
Again, a rain of trash, sticks, rocks, and rotted food pelted us as
the crowd became more emboldened. “Nosteran lover!”
“Traitor!”
“Your bitch burns in torment!”
My blood boiled as they continued to attack Aiyla. My memory
flashed back to that fateful day...reality warping back and forth as the
crowds before me mingled with those in my mind. The sky turned to
light, then dark, then light as my past and present blurred. These
were the people who’d mocked her and cheered her death. They
taunted and spurned me. Even as I tried to help them, they stabbed
at my outstretched hand.
“Jagen...they’re getting closer,” Setha said as she tried to shield
Carine from the rain of projectiles.
Three guards rushed forth, only to be cut down before they could
even bring their weapons to bear. The crowd gasped and stepped
back.
“We are moving toward the gate. Don’t stand in our way!” I
shouted as I focused my waning magic into a circular wall of flame
that cut the crowds off from us. One man had stepped too close and
was engulfed in the fire before he could move back. He flopped
backward, attempting to quench the flames as others batted at him.
We slowly approached the gate as the flame wall moved with us.
The soldiers backed away, unsure of what to do. The crowds behind
us stood just out of range of the flames, their furious faces looking
like glowing demonic visions of hatred.
“Stay back! I don’t want to hurt you!” I shouted. “Allow us free
passage!”
Suddenly, the flames died down to a flicker. Setha looked at me
with alarm as I looked over the crowd. A magic user was countering
my spell. Looking through the array of angry faces, I saw a face
shrouded by the glimmering wizard robes. The woman’s mouth
moved as she wove a spell with her hands.
“There!” I shouted.
Setha nocked the bloody arrow she’d pulled from her thigh and
sent it directly into the left eye of the caster. The woman’s spell faded
along with her life. The citizens near the woman panicked and fled.
I focused my will on strengthening the wall as I poured my last bit
of magic into the spell. A large rock struck my eye just as I heard the
words, “Nosteran whore lover!” Time slowed as I looked over the
soldiers who had turned against their king...the subjects who now
pelted him with refuse...calling for his blood. They shouted insults at
the woman I’d loved more than life itself. They spurned my gracious
help to make their lives better. I’d suffered for them and gained
nothing but their scorn in return. They deserved punishment. Again,
the world flashed red and black as I felt some otherworldly force
enter my body for a split second. I let the power and rage flow
through me and into the spell. Too late, I realized what I’d done.
The last words of my spell of firewall boomed like thunder. The
wall of flame roared into the sky, higher than the walls of the city, its
heat and fury blasting even the stone walls, wooden fences, and
gates as if the sun itself had fallen to earth. The incendiary wall
moved outward at a speed too fast for the crowds to avoid. It raced
ahead with the speed of thought, washing over the citizens, the
guards, the merchants. Women, men, and even children fell under
the onslaught of the holocaust like tiny shells on a beach under a
crashing wave.
“By the gods! Jagen!” Setha gasped as she shielded herself from
the heat by taking cover behind me. Some of her exposed fur
blackened and smoked, the ends of her hair lighting briefly like tiny
candles.
My mind reeled as hundreds of screams filled the air for mere
seconds, leaving behind only ashes, bones, burning buildings, and
crackling flames. The crowd’s accusations and rage had been
silenced...overwhelmed by my own fury.
I wanted to pull the flames back into myself. I needed to undo the
horror before me. I couldn’t even process the scene before
us...hundreds of blackened skulls staring up at us, cinders and
smoke rising from their incinerated bodies. A macabre audience
staring at their murderer with hollow, empty eyes.
Yet, another part of me delighted in the carnage. They’d cheered
for my physical torture, Aiyla’s death, my mental torment. I only ever
wanted what was best for them and they called for my death. This
was suitable punishment for the ungrateful wretches. It was what
Castigous demanded.
“No, I shouldn’t think such —” I said, trying to shake the ghastly
thoughts away.
“More are coming; we must go!” Setha said as she tugged at my
arm. She leapt to the top of the wall and opened the gate. Leaping
over the still-burning bodies, barricades, and smoldering stone, we
dashed toward freedom.
The dungeon was almost twenty miles away. I pulled the
miniature Soul Sphere from my pocket and noticed it had been filled
to the brim. The life force of my own subjects had empowered it. The
nauseating smell of cooked flesh, hair, and clothing permeated the
entire area. I held my breath until we were near the edge of the
forest, but my next breath indicated the odor was not so easily
evaded. It would cling to me forever.
We made our way through the forest, circumventing the city as
we moved south. The sun’s pink light illuminated the horizon, but the
glowing beauty was marred by billowing black smoke as New Vadis
and her citizens burned in the early morn.
 CHAPTER EIGHT
Hunted

T
wo miles from the city, in the depths of the forest, we rested for
several minutes. After guzzling half a skin of water, I attempted
to get a little into Carine’s mouth. She coughed and sputtered, water
mixed with blood running down the side of her face. Her face and
hands had been burned by my attack. Sweat collected on her brow
as she shivered, but she remained unconscious. Handing the water
to Setha, I searched through one of my pouches for medical
supplies.
Removing the injured gnome from Setha’s back, I gently laid her
on a patch of leaves as I cut open the back of her shirt. The wound
was deep and had likely punctured one of her lungs, judging by the
frothy blood. Even more worrisome was the sickly green striations
radiating from the puncture. Placing a patch of tarred cloth on the
wound, I wrapped several strips of cloth around her torso to hold it in
place.
Pulling the cork from a vial, I placed the glowing green concoction
to her lips. She moaned and turned away. “Carine...you have to take
this. It will slow the poison,” I said as I tilted her head and more
forcefully placed the liquid to her mouth. Gagging, she consumed at
least some of the anti-venom, but most she coughed up. Next, I
forced as much of a small healing potion into her mouth and held my
hand over it until she coughed and struggled to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I stored the items. It wouldn’t be enough to
cure her, but it might be enough to get her back to the dungeon. Only
Toxin would be able to determine what type of poison Dusk had used
on the gnome engineer.
“What...what was the crown that appeared? Some type of spell?”
Setha asked as I secured Carine to her back again.
“The Black Crown. It’s the true crown of Tharune. Castigous
twisted it into that form upon father’s...death,” I said.
 “Ah. No wonder the people don’t recognize you as their king,” she
quipped.
Dogs howled in the distance. The howls became louder until they
turned into the screams of hundreds of people. Burning faces and
melting eyes flashed ahead of us before melting into flaming skulls.
Setha’s hand grabbed my shoulder. “What is it?”
I looked back at the path before us. It was clear. “Nothing. Let’s
go. They’re tracking us with hunting hounds.”
The cat warrior’s speed was barely hampered by Carine. Leaping
over rock, fallen branches, and even into the trees themselves, I
could barely keep pace. Setha landed and began running in front of
me before splitting off.
“I’ll leave a trail for them to follow. Perhaps they’ll become
confused,” she shouted as she raced off to the left, soon
disappearing among the dense foliage.
I thought of shouting after her but didn’t want to give away my
position. Splitting up would be dangerous with so many on our trail,
but I had to trust the felae ranger knew what she was doing. I just
hoped she didn’t take too long, or Carine wouldn’t survive.
My sleeve snagged a massive brier bush and ripped a portion of
cloth away. Skidding to a stop, I turned to retrieve it, but the barking
of the dogs reminded me I was barely staying ahead of my pursuers.
Sprinting ahead, I tried to think of Zarah and the dungeon, but the
smoldering eyes of the dead again intruded. The dogs’ wails and
barks blurred until it sounded like shrieking yelps of tortured humans.
What had I done?
No, this was the fault of the Uxper Orthodoxy, the Merromonts,
the wealthy elites, the guilds, and Knoth. They forced my hand. They
should have stayed out of my city. The citizens chose treason over
their true king. Death was the punishment for treason. They had only
themselves to blame.
Again, I paid the price for my distracted thoughts. Before I could
react, I found my neck in a noose, which jerked tight and lifted me
fifteen feet above the forest floor. Several darts whistled from a
nearby brush pile. Two missed, but three struck true. Unfortunately
for the ambushers, I was now immune to such weak and mundane
weapons. Swinging to the side, I grabbed the edge of the tree,
bracing my legs against it as I simultaneously grabbed the rope and
kicked off toward the ground.
Two men ripped free from the brush, yelping as they were hauled
into the air. The familiar cloaks gave them away as members of
Inevitable Oblivion. Once on the ground, I cut the rope and sent the
two crashing to the earth directly at my feet. The pommel of my
sword sent one to dream of riches, while the other found himself
facing the tip of Purgatory.
“How did you find me? How many of you are there?”
The small rogue smiled and started to rise. In a flash, he whipped
a dagger from his boot and ran toward the safety of nearby trees.
Catching the blade, I flipped it around and sent it back to its owner.
The blade sank to the hilt in the man’s back, completely ignoring his
leather armor. He tumbled into a pile of branches and moaned.
I kicked over the unconscious body of the first rogue and
removed his cloak. It was far too tight, but after ripping it in a few
places, it covered my head and some of my exposed body. The sun
remained low, and the shadows plentiful at the moment, but that
would change soon.
I listened for just a moment, surveying the shadows and possible
angles of attack before resuming my trek to the dungeon. Hundreds
of hours of training with Toxin made me well-adapted to anticipating
rogue attacks and countering them. The rogue guild would have to
do better than these two if they wished to capture or kill me. In fact,
most likely only their most experienced and powerful members like
Dusk posed any real threat.
A shadow passed over high above the treetops for a brief
moment. Had it been my imagination or had something truly huge
flown past? I wondered just how badly Knoth and the other traitors
wanted my kingdom. Judging by the power of the spells they’d had
cast in the Arbiter’s dungeon, they were likely desperate. Such spells
had been crafted by top masters and surpassed even those of a
master such as Elemental Lord Yolune.
How had I managed to free myself? It was as if the containment
and weakening spells had simply dissolved from my manacles and
chains. The wards around the room remained intact, but something
had allowed me to control the dungeon’s components simply using
my will...much like I could do in my own dungeon. It was obviously
some form of unknown magic, impervious to the wards of Knoth’s
magic users.
Without warning, my feet fell out from beneath me into an abyss.
Kicking off at the last instant, I avoided the pitfall trap and barely
landed on the edge of the pit on the far side. Continuing my
movement forward, I rolled headlong just as several bolts and arrows
sank into where I’d just been. Instinctively reaching back, I realized
my shield wasn’t equipped. Instead, I deflected the next arrow with
my sword and uttered a minor spell to protect against missile
weapons. It had been an hour since we’d fled the city, and my
magical reserves had recovered enough for such a low-level spell.
The next volley whistled around me, slightly altering course in midair
to miss their mark. While I seemed to be largely impervious to
unenchanted weapons, when dealing with rogues and their poisons,
it was best to not take chances.
“If you value your lives, leave me be, vermin.”
“Hey, there’s a bounty on yer head, ex-king. We aim to collect,” a
voice said from behind a tree.
“Perhaps we could reach an agreement. You escort me to my
destination, and I’ll pay you double whatever you’re being offered.”
A coarse female voice to my right laughed. “You can’t afford it.
‘Sides...we don’t go back on contracts.”
Backing away from the first two voices as if in fear, I soon
reached the third tree. Keeping my back to it, I slipped my free hand
down to the second sword hilt on my belt, making sure to wave
Purgatory around to distract from my movement. When a twig behind
the tree snapped, I whirled about, the unmistakable sound of
something heavy whistling through the air following my movement.
A series of short gasps were followed by the creaking and
splintering of the massive tree as it slowly tilted to the side before
crashing to the forest floor, sending leaves and dirt flying and
crushing several smaller trees.
 On the other side of the newly created tree stump, a large-
muscled brute stood in shock, his bulging arms wrapped around his
midsection as if trying to keep warm. His mouth moved, but no words
came forth. His eyes pleaded for mercy until they rolled back into his
head. His arms went limp, and his torso toppled away from his body
like a smaller version of the tree. I cleaned the blood from Void
Cutter on my cloak and sheathed the massive invisible blade. The
sound of panicked running on crunching leaves indicated the other
two had seen enough.
I took a swig from my water bottle and several deep breaths
before resuming the run. It would have been wiser to travel in a wide
arc to the dungeon, but in the end, my enemies knew where I was
heading. It would likely be a race to beat them to Old Vadis, so a
straight line was the most expedient path.
We’d had to travel the long way around New Vadis from the north
to the south. This had allowed the fast-moving rogues and anyone
else to set traps ahead of us if they were quick enough. No doubt
there were already hundreds of enemies already in the forest around
us, and perhaps more near or in the areas around the dungeon. It
would take time to mobilize the Royal Guard and Army, but the
cavalry could be in the city before we were. If thousands of troops
beat us to the dungeon, there was no way we’d get past them.
The clang of fighting caught my attention ten minutes later. I
altered course to intercept it. The scene before me was just what I’d
expected.
Setha found herself hard-pressed by two soldiers and an elf druid
in a clearing. To my surprise, a large hippogryph fought alongside
the enemy warriors. I thought of the shadow I’d seen earlier.
Crouching low, I moved around the clearing until the felae’s keen
eyes caught sight of me.
She changed direction and began leading the warriors toward
me. The two soldiers were covered in scratches, cuts, and bite
marks, but Setha’s Tor-Serre was helplessly entangled in a bramble
bush. If it had been her alone against the two men, I had no doubt
she could have dispatched them quickly, but she was barely keeping
ahead of the winged beast’s deadly clawed talons and the druid’s
spells.
Despite being armed with only a dagger, she managed to dodge
and avoid the attacks of the two men, keeping them between her
other two foes and herself. The fur on her right arm glistened from
what looked like a deep gash in her forearm. It was a miracle Carine
hadn’t become dislodged from the felae’s leaps and flips.
Just as she reached me, roots from the ground lashed out and
tripped her, wrapping themselves around her legs. The two soldiers
rushed the incapacitated feline warrior, but they were so focused on
her, they failed to see me until Purgatory had already lashed out
several times.
The soldier on the left fell back, holding his guts in his hands, and
the one on the right fell into the bush I’d been hiding behind. His
head rolled near Setha. The druid’s spell fizzled as I timed a
counterspell perfectly. It would take a minute or two before he could
cast again. Leaping between the massive half-bird, half-horse and
my minion, I caught the edge of one of its talons with my sword,
sending it shrieking and rearing back. Its eagle’s cry would likely
alert anyone within a mile of our position.
I uttered a quick fear spell that I’d learned from Yaug. A
transparent green skull manifested before me, sending a piercing
thought of utter terror into the barely tamed chimera. Despite the low
level of the spell, the hippogryph shrieked and retreated from us. The
druid barely leapt out of its way as it trampled the ground he’d just
occupied. The root spell that enveloped Setha’s legs faded, and she
ripped herself free.
She retrieved her chained claw weapon from the brambles as I
cornered the druid. He held up both hands and found himself backed
against a tree. “I was merely...”
“Silence. Calm your pet,” I ordered.
“I...your spell —”
“It’s worn off by now or will in seconds. If you attempt any other
spell other than one to calm the beast, I’ll know, and your head will
roll beside his,” I said as I placed the tip of my sword against his
neck. He swallowed hard before reciting a long spell while stamping
his gnarled staff against the ground. The shrieking hippogryph grew
calm before settling down to the ground as if preparing to go to
sleep.
“Can it support the three of us in the air?” I asked.
“T-three? It would barely support your weight and hers. There are
limits —”
“If you used one of your beast-enhancement spells to boost its
strength and stamina, could it complete a ten-minute flight?”
“I’m not sure if that’s possible, even with —”
“Look out!” Setha shouted as she shoved me to the side. A
dagger appeared in the tree behind the druid, an inch from his
cheek.
Smoke filled the area quickly. Setha lashed out repeatedly with
her weapon, but struck nothing. The clang of metal on metal
indicated she’d engaged someone in combat. I didn’t want to let the
druid go but had no idea how many assailants there were. It
sounded like Setha was being overwhelmed and was being forced
farther from us as the battle wore on.
I turned back to the druid. “Clear this smoke.”
“I had nothing to do with —”
“Clear it.”
The frightened druid incanted a light breeze spell. Better that he
be forced to use his magic. My reserves remained depleted, and we
were less than halfway to the dungeon. As a cool breeze blew
through the clearing, the smoke swirled and departed slowly. Setha
and the sounds of battle had grown silent. When the last bits of
smoke cleared, I saw why.
Dusk stood on the far side of the clearing with her dagger
pressed tightly against Setha’s throat. Setha’s fur was matted with
sweat and blood. She seemed barely able to stand — either from
running for the past hour with Carine on her back, or perhaps she’d
been poisoned in the brief battle with the powerful rogue. That’s
when I noticed the second dagger pointed toward Carine.
The leader of Inevitable Oblivion smiled. “Told ya there was no
place you could hide, Jagen.”
I took one step toward her. “I wouldn’t...”
 “I could kill them both and be gone before you moved,” she said
as she slid her dagger against Setha’s neck. A trickle of blood ran
free.
“I’d just resurrect them. It makes no difference to me. You can’t
bargain with the lives of my minions.”
“Out here? I doubt you could do that. Besides, the gnome ain’t
part of your dungeon, is she? She walks around the city without any
problem whatsoever. We’ve kept tabs on her and your other friends.
I know a bit more about your kind than you might expect.”
“What is it you want, Dusk? You have your guild, and we’ve left
you alone.”
“Well, there’s a fat reward on your head, and I mean to collect. In
fact, there’s two rewards — one if you’re brought in alive, and one if
you’re dead. There’s also the fact that you humiliated me. No one
does that and lives. I might have control of the guild, but I lost
respect because of that, and in a guild like ours, ya gotta have
respect or you’ve got nothin’. Understand?”
“Indeed.”
“Now, you’re going to drink that vial, or else I’m going to kill these
two before you can even draw another breath. Then I’m going to
deliver you back to your brother.”
“I could pay more than my brother. Much of the kingdom’s wealth
is in the dungeon. We could form an alliance.”
She laughed. “An alliance with some idiot ruler of a decrepit hole
in the ground? You’ve lost the city, and you’re losing your dungeon
as we speak. You have nothing to offer me other than your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know? Your dungeon has been under assault since
you were first captured in the city.”
 CHAPTER NINE
Obstacles

T
he news struck me harder than any blow the rogue could
muster. “Who? What forces?”
She delighted in my confusion and concern. “I’m not here to
answer your questions. Drink the damned vial.” She nodded toward
the middle of the clearing, where a small dark vial awaited on a
flattened piece of bark.
“What is it?”
“It doesn’t matter either way, does it? Pick it up, and hurry.”
The harsh rays of the sun had begun to pour in through the
spaces in the treetop canopy over the clearing. One fell precisely on
the vial. The glass was colored brown, making it impossible to see its
contents.
I pressed Purgatory against the druid’s neck as I approached
him. Ripping open his robe and shirt, I drew a complex magical
diagram on his chest. “This will unleash a fireball in ten minutes
unless I remove it. I’d suggest waiting for me,” I whispered to him.
The elf looked at the glowing rune fearfully and nodded.
“Don’t interfere,” I said as one last warning.
“Enough. Drink the vial, or I kill them both. Don’t even try
wriggling a finger.”
Slowly, I approached the small glass vial as I kept my eyes on the
deadly rogue. I picked it up and uncorked the stopper. The mixture
smelled acrid and unpleasant. A faint aura of enchantment lingered
around the bottle. There was no telling what it contained.
“Drink.”
The sound of barking dogs and shouts drew closer. Our situation
grew more dire by the second.
“What are you waiting for? Drink it!”
“If you must know, I was waiting for the crimson wolf to sneak
close enough to take you unawares.”
“Do you take me for a —”
 “Now.”
Sessi silently leapt from the bush behind the rogue, grabbing
Dusk’s right arm and pulling the rogue away from Setha, who twisted
away from the dagger at her throat at the same moment. Shaking his
head, there was a sickening crunch and ripping sound as Dusk
screamed in agony.
“Kill?” Sessi asked mentally.
“If you desire,” I responded.
A loud bang and flash of light erupted in front of the wolf, who
yelped in surprise and turned away. When the world came back into
focus, Dusk was gone. However, she’d left a souvenir behind. Sessi
padded over and dropped the gift at my feet — Dusk’s bloody right
arm, severed at the shoulder.
“Follow? Blood trail,” Sessi asked.
“No, too dangerous. She won’t be back any time soon. Where is
Kyo?”
“Not far. Hunting bad men ahead.”
“How many ahead?”
“Many. Many at dark cave. They attack it.” An image of the area
around the dungeon flashed into my mind from the wolf. Dozens of
camps had been set up in front of the dungeon, and Old Vadis had
been occupied by not just soldiers and guards, but also supporting
workers and even what appeared to be members of the guilds.
A strange construct near the mouth of the dungeon caught my
eye as the images changed. It appeared to be a crystal the size of a
man, encased in a giant metal circle. Webs of metal thread attached
the crystal to its housing. Was it some type of magical weapon?
Perhaps a bomb? Mystics and engineers alike worked on the device.
Worse, it was partially blocking the entrance.
“What do you see?” Setha asked as she picked up the
dismembered arm and inspected the dagger in its grasp. Ripping the
weapon free, she casually tossed the appendage back into the dirt
as she stored the dagger in her pouch.
“Nothing good. There are hundreds already ahead of us. We’ll
have to seek another way in.”
 “I thought you foolishly had only one entrance and exit to your
dungeon, leaving you trapped like a rat if your foes overwhelmed
you.”
“Somewhat true, but another path has perhaps opened to us,” I
said as I turned to the druid.
“W-what about the rune? Time is almost up,” he said as he
pointed to his chest.
I traced the outline of the rune again. “I’ve extended your life. For
now, you can be useful to me. What is your name?”
“Lusis.”
“This is what you will do, Lusis — command this beast to follow
my orders with your strongest charm beast spell. We are going to fly
somewhere, and if all goes according to plan, I’ll remove the spell on
you and release you.”
“Where are we going?”
“If you knew that, I’d have to detonate the rune, so make sure
you stay ignorant of that information,” I said. “Are you able to fulfill
these commands?”
“I-I will try. But I’ve already told you that Veloii can’t hold our
combined weight. Have you ever ridden a hippogryph before?”
“No, but I have some flight time on gryphons.”
“It’s not really comparable, their temperaments and flight control
are —”
“I have several thousand men after me at the moment. You’ll
either force the creature to obey me and allow me to reach my
destination, or...” I motioned with my hands that an explosion may be
in his near future.
“B-but there is still the problem with weight...”
“Setha.”
The felae warrior turned her back to me and began removing the
bindings that held Carine tight. I checked over the gnome’s vital
signs. She was feverish and whiter than she had been earlier. Her
pulse had weakened. The druid undoubtedly had some healing
power, but it would most likely not be enough to counter the poison.
“Are you experienced with anti-venom or poison spells? Healing
spells? Can you do anything with this one?”
 He looked over Carine, placing his hands on her chest and brow
and closing his eyes. “This is beyond my ability to heal. I swear I am
telling the truth. I can put a spell of trickle healing on her; that may
help slightly.”
“Do it.”
Lusis closed his eyes and held his hands above the gnome as he
uttered the spell. A green glow enveloped Carine for a brief moment
before fading. Setha finished securing Carine to my back. I retrieved
her summoning stone and stored her within.
“Amazing,” Lusis said.
“That handles your weight complaints,” I said as I unstrapped the
saddlebags on the hippogryph. The beast’s eyes flickered open.
Yawning, its massive rock-hard beak stretched wide enough to
reveal it could easily bite a man’s head off in one motion. “Quickly,
charm it.”
Lusis did as ordered, weaving a complicated and powerful charm
spell that would hopefully last the duration of our voyage. The
creature’s quick movements slowed and the intelligence in its eyes
faded. I climbed aboard the saddle, which was designed for one
rider. Unlike a horse’s saddle, the saddles for winged mounts
extended several feet above the beast. You had the option of folding
your legs in the spaces to each side of the saddle as if you were
kneeling or extending them straight out into the long stirrups, so your
feet rested to either side of the creature’s head. I chose the latter.
“How do I...?” Lusis asked as he climbed aboard the beast’s bare
back behind the saddle. There wasn’t much room before the natural
slope of its spine trailed off into a tail. He slid up to the back of the
saddle and placed his legs straight out to either side.
“I’d hold tightly,” I said.
The druid grabbed the edges of the saddle as I took the reins.
The beast stood, seemingly unconcerned with the additional weight
on its back. Judging from the sound, the baying dogs were likely just
out of visual range.
I turned to Sessi, who watched us with curiosity, his tail wagging.
“Find Kyo and flee the area. There are many dangerous foes in the
trees. Head to the open forest and stay clear of the dungeon for
now.”
Sessi spun about and dashed into the forest, heading to the
southwest. “Hunt well.”
“It’s time to go, druid. Strengthen the beast with your spell and let
us be off.”
Lusis did as ordered before shouting, “Up, Veloii, up!”
The beast’s muscles tensed beneath us before it simply sprang
twenty feet into the air. It felt as if I’d left my stomach back on the
forest floor. With several powerful thrusts, we were suddenly another
thirty feet higher and rising out through the opening in the clearing’s
tree canopy.
“Climb, Veloii! Squeeze your heels on the side of his neck,” Lusis
said.
The beast flew higher, leaving the forest far below. With our
higher vantage point, I could see there were two large groups of men
approaching from the south and east simultaneously. Sessi could
have likely led us around them, but the hippogryph allowed us to
avoid the situation entirely.
I pointed. “North.”
“W-where are we going?” the druid asked as the beast flapped its
wings harder.
“I’m going away from these men.”
I’d only ridden a flying mount once or twice, back when I was
training with the Royal Army, yet the specifics of the encounter
eluded me. I knew it was part of the training program, but just like
thousands of other memories, this one was lost. I’d hoped something
would come back to me once mounted. It was perhaps fortunate that
it didn’t, as blacking out a thousand feet from the ground as a
memory took hold of me would end the trip quickly. All I needed was
to gather Lusis’ specific commands and training for this beast, which
I was quickly learning as we went.
There were other flying mounts in the sky, which was a rare sight
above New Vadis. What looked like a gryphon flew farther to the
south of the city, slowly searching above the forest below. In the
east, what looked like a small drake zoomed over the countryside. It
seemed the forces allied against me had spared no expense in
retrieving their items from my dungeon.
“By the gods,” Lusis said as the smell of smoke began to fill the
air. The city came into view moments later. The flames had died
down, but smaller fires had broken out farther from the initial
conflagration. “Did you...”
“They attacked me. I had no choice but to defend myself.”
“No choice? It looks like —”
“I’m aware of the damage done. Speak no more of it.” The
frightened faces and skulls again forced themselves upon me.
Guiding the mount around the blackened skies above New Vadis,
we soon arrived at a suitable area north of the city, a small opening
in the dense tree canopy. There were no pursuers visible as far as I
could see.
“There. Tell Veloii we wish to land there.”
The hippogryph gently set down in the clearing, breathing hard
from carrying such a heavy load so many miles.
“I’ll allow the beast to rest a moment. Give it whatever
sustenance it requires,” I said as I checked Carine’s bindings to
make sure they weren’t cutting off circulation.
“Where are we going? How much farther? Veloii can’t do this for
much longer.”
“This is as far as you go. I’ll take the hippogryph the rest of the
way by myself.”
“You...you can’t do that! You need me to guide him.” The fear in
his voice betrayed his love for the creature. Druids and others who
were attuned to nature bonded with their pets on a level most people
would never understand. Their mounts and pets became like
children or siblings to them. I’d expected the elf to resist.
“You have nothing to fear. We’ll be gone a short while, and I’ll let
him go to return to you. As long as you don’t attempt to follow me or
retrace where I’m going, you’ll both survive this encounter
unscathed. I recommend you return to whatever guild or bounty
hunting agency you came from and not return to New Vadis.”
“How can I be sure that you’ll...keep your word?” he asked as he
looked fearfully into the creature’s eagle eyes. Opening a bag, he
poured several giant skins of water into a bucket and held it out. The
hippogryph stuck the tip of its beak into the bucket and drank.
From his perspective, it was a reasonable question. As far as he
knew, I was most likely evil incarnate — a creature of Castigous who
had reaped death and despair on the hapless city. The blackened
bodies at the North Gate certainly didn’t help my case. Perhaps the
tales were true, and I was the deluded one.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “It
may not mean much, and you may not believe me, but I swear on
my word that no harm will come to your companion or yourself. I
simply ask that you do as I say for both of our sakes.”
The elf seemed confused, as if wrestling internally with a decision
before pointing to his chest. “I suppose I have no choice. But if
something should happen to Veloii...” He patted the beast’s massive
beak. The creature cooed and rubbed its feathered head against his
arm.
“There is no need for threats. I don’t know if you came here
seeking fortune or in some misguided attempt to slay evil but return
to your home. In this battle, there is no good or evil, despite what you
may believe.” Crossing the distance between us, I whispered a spell.
The glowing red symbol on his chest faded away. Leaping back onto
the saddle, I nodded.
He reached out to Veloii. “I...”
“Farewell, druid. Call your beast back in an hour or find him. He
will be free.” I ordered the beast higher. With the druid’s spell, it
remained docile enough for someone other than its master to
command it. Otherwise, I expect it would have bucked us off at the
first opportunity.
Keeping just above the tree line, we flew north for a while. It was
difficult to determine where we needed to go, as I’d only been to our
destination on foot, and it was well-hidden from prying eyes. Finally,
after fifteen minutes of searching, I noticed several landmarks in the
forest that indicated we were close. Dropping lower, until the
hippogryph’s wings brushed the top of a short tree, I bent close to
the creature’s feathered head and whispered, “Go back to your
master.” Leaping free, I plunged through the branches and worked
my way down the tree until I dropped the last ten feet to the forest
floor. The magnificent beast looked confused for a moment before
turning and flying back the way we’d just come.
Minutes later, the Ironpit Dungeon’s well-hidden entrance came
into view. The vines and leaves had grown denser since my last visit.
It was a miracle Yaug had managed to secure enough energy to
survive as long as he had. Foot traffic to his dungeon had been so
scarce, but with fewer levels and creatures, combined with the fact
that he no longer lived and needed no sustenance, I supposed one
prisoner could last decades.
Upon entering, small spiders skittered out of the way as I rushed
to put distance between us and the entrance. In a flash, I teleported
to the throne room. I removed Carine from my back, gently setting
her on the decrepit rug. The gnome had begun to turn a light shade
of blue.
“Zarah,” I said.
The beautiful Dungeon Heart appeared before us and threw her
arms around me before I could say another word. “Where have you
been? Do you know what’s happened? We’re under attack, and I
was worried sick about you!”
Focusing, I found Toxin on his usual floor. The goblin level had
been decimated, but Yaug and Mistress Bitter had resurrected
several of the fallen goblins. I found a young shaman and
summoned both minions, as well as a jimp.
I turned to Toxin. “She’s been poisoned by Dusk. I need you to
formulate an antidote.”
The rogue knelt and checked over the gnome before flipping her
over and touching his finger to the bloodied bandage on her back.
First sniffing it, he then tasted it and nodded. “I’ll need my
equipment.”
“Let me know when it’s ready,” I said as I teleported him back to
his room.
“I need you to use all of your healing magic to help her as much
as possible,” I explained to the shaman.
She held her hands over the gnome and closed her eyes. “Bad
poison. Bad wound. Not good.”
 “Just keep her alive!” I shouted. I mentally commanded the jimp
to do whatever was necessary to bring comfort to the wounded
engineer. It shuffled off to find the items. I pulled out my water skins
and food and placed them on the floor nearby. If Carine were more
attuned, I could have teleported her directly to the main dungeon.
But that would also mean she’d have to regularly visit and would
start to suffer side effects if she stayed away too long, and perhaps
would grow so attached she would never be able to leave. She loved
exploring the world so much. I shuddered to think what a curse that
would be for her.
I sent out another mental command. Shalla, the Dungeon Heart
for this dungeon, appeared before us and bowed. “Keep an eye on
this situation. Bring Toxin back here when he signals he is ready.
Make sure the shaman and jimp have everything they need.”
The gorgon-like young woman bowed again. “As you say,
Master.”
With a thought, I now sat upon the throne in my own throne room.
The Soul Sphere above me had been drained an additional fifty
percent from the last time I’d seen it. Only a quarter of it remained.
The dungeon’s power flowed back into me as I felt the true
connection reestablished. While the miniature Soul Spheres allowed
me to travel outside, nothing compared to the source.
I sensed Yaug and Mistress Bitter seated on the thrones behind
me, intently monitoring the dungeon and working to repair the
damage.
“Welcome back, Master. You’ve at last returned,” Mistress Bitter
said. There might have been a sliver of sarcasm in her voice, but it
was hard to tell with her.
Yaug’s hollow, dead voice followed. “Thank Castigous for your
return, Master.”
“Did you discover the problem with your city, Master?” Mistress
Bitter asked sweetly. My blood-and-dirt-covered prison clothes and
wounds had likely already answered the question before she’d asked
it.
“It’s far too complicated to explain. How goes the battle?” I asked.
 Yaug appeared to be unsure of how to phrase his response.
“We...we are...”
“To put it bluntly, we are losing,” Mistress Bitter finished.
 CHAPTER TEN
Hordes of the Righteous

F
ocusing on the dungeon, I moved my vision through each floor.
On the first floor, the skeleton warriors roamed about in
groups of three or four, on high alert and ready for combat. Normally,
they rested in the jail area, prepared to ambush unsuspecting
adventurers. The body of one soldier lay hunched against the wall,
but ripped clothing, a battered shield, and splashes of blood
indicated there had been several battles throughout the floor. It was
obvious many of the skeletons had been recently reconstituted.
The second floor was in much worse shape. Several of the cell
doors had been ripped open, freeing the prisoners within. Ho’Scar
lay dead in the torture chamber, along with a half-dozen men and
women who looked to be from the Royal Army. Some of his torture
equipment burned or had been destroyed — blown apart by some
unseen force.
The goblins were in a state of disarray, attempting to help the
injured, rejoin their groups, and set up broken defenses. I counted
twenty bodies on the floor, a mix of Royal Guard and Army. I didn’t
see Ligglethorp among the dead or living.
“What happened to the torture chamber? Why isn’t Ligglethorp
here leading the goblin forces?”
“I believe it may have been sabotage, Master. While combating
the invaders, the torture devices exploded upon Ho’Scar as he
attempted to use them against his foes, wounding him severely. The
teleportation stone likewise failed spectacularly, killing several
goblins as they attempted to retreat. None have been able to pass
through since.”
Looking over the torture chamber, it soon became apparent the
common thread among all of the destroyed machines — they’d had
their enchantments replaced by Publin. “They planned this long ago.”
Mistress Bitter sounded quite smug in her response. “So it would
appear. You should have learned by now to do things yourself.
You’ve placed the entire dungeon in danger by allowing —”
“Silence. You forget your place, Bitter. I don’t have to explain my
actions to you.”
She was correct, however. I’d foolishly allowed Publin to work on
the dungeon’s enchantments for the past year, almost completely
unsupervised. It seemed the “novice” I’d hired was far more adept
than he’d let on. In addition to apparently being a high-level
enchanter, he’d also been an impeccable actor. I’d completely
believed he was the young novice he’d proclaimed he was, and he’d
taken advantage of that fact. I tried to remember all of the projects I’d
laid out for him over the months. There was no telling what else he
could have sabotaged while I was away or paying attention to other
matters.
“Do you have any minions that have enchantment abilities?”
“Not I, although I have studied enchantments to a high degree,
and am fairly proficient,” Yaug admitted. “Although I may be out of
practice after so many years.”
“Sadly, the enchanter I...obtained... passed away over one
hundred years ago. She was vastly skilled, however. Her
enchantments today are almost as strong as they were on the day
she created them.”
“Yaug, can you investigate and determine which items may be
affected by Publin’s treachery?”
“In the entire dungeon? That would take weeks...months, even.
You are asking me to undo a year’s worth of work —”
“Begin with this level. Check the doors and keys, then move to
the armor and weapons he may have affected, then to any traps or
other things that can be used against our minions.”
The skeletal mage floated up from his throne and bowed. “It shall
be as you say, Master. I shall require some of my instrumentation.”
He winked out of existence.
I focused on the fourth level. The body parts of numerous ghouls
littered the level, along with the bodies of several Royal Guard and
adventurers. Helatha occupied the church, magically stitching her
minions back together, sometimes using parts from the invading
groups. Her right arm hung limply as she worked.
 “Helatha, how goes it?” I asked.
Startled, she looked up and smiled. “Master! You’ve returned. I
was worried that something had happened to you.”
“Enough pleasantries. How are your forces holding up?”
“We’ve suffered losses, but by Castigous’ will, we remain
vigilant.”
“I’ve brought her back once, but she was wounded in the last
battle,” Mistress Bitter said.
“Continue your repairs, Helatha.”
“As you wish, Master.”
My consciousness flowed to the Arbolisk Forest. Two of the
creatures limped about, arrows sticking from their thick hides. A third
floated in the lake upside down, deceased.
“They require too much magic to resurrect, and we were low,”
Mistress Bitter explained.
“The arbolisks maintain an elevated status among my minions.
Do not allow them to permanently perish. They are endangered,” I
said as I used the portable Soul Sphere’s magic to resurrect Raed.
He flipped over, moving slowly at first until he gathered momentum
and swam to the shore. The other two creatures nuzzled him and
checked him over. Though they were wounded, none of the wounds
seemed life-threatening and could wait until the shaman above had
helped the goblin forces.
“Thank you,” Zarah said as she appeared to my right. She wore a
form-fitting leather outfit that seemed more suitable for a show than
actual battle.
“I will not allow Raed to perish if I can help it,” I said. She held a
special connection to the stout young drake. She’d picked the name
for the arbolisk to honor her deceased brother who had been
murdered long ago while helping her escape. “How is Carine?” I
asked.
“Toxin is working to help her. He says the poison used is not one
he has encountered before, but he hopes to stop it in time.”
“Hopes?”
She shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”
 The next floor down was protected by Toxin himself. To my
surprise, the door down was open.
I turned to look at Mistress Bitter. She nodded solemnly. “The
rogue fell in battle against a powerful group. I brought him back
yesterday hours after his death.”
I scanned the floor below, which housed the old throne room.
Mo’Sep, the hybrid warrior from Mistress Bitter’s dungeon, paced
outside of the empty throne room’s open doors.
Before I could ask, Mistress Bitter stated, “Mo’Sep and the
psuthals fell as well. Your Knights of Tharune prevailed against the
invaders, but only one was slain. The group teleported out of the
dungeon and took their fallen comrade with them.”
“Why is our magic level falling if we are killing so many
invaders?” I asked as I used the portable Sphere to bring Ho’Scar
back to life. The orb’s level fell to ten percent.
“It’s a tactic I haven’t seen before. The groups that attack seem to
be a mix of normal warriors who possess little life force or magic,
combined with seasoned adventurers who are extremely cautious
and wary of the dungeon. They’ve mapped and plotted this far in
advance, and with the aid of the sabotaged enchantments, we are
suffering more damage than they are taking.”
“How are these normal men making such progress through the
dungeon? The skeletons and goblins should be enough to stop
them. Barring that, Ho’Scar —”
“Show him,” Mistress Bitter commanded.
A Blattarack soldier climbed the steps and knelt, holding up a
well-crafted sword. Small flames flickered across the edge of the
blade. Picking it up, I noticed it was heavily enchanted with both
temporary blessings and spells, as well as a powerful permanent
enchantment.
“We took this from the body of one of the soldiers who recently
attacked. They are all similarly armed and armored. The groups
outside are boosting the soldiers with spells and arming them thusly
before they enter. Some have magical bombs or powerful wands.
Sometimes a powerful cleric accompanies them to heal their wounds
or resurrect them for part of their attack, before he or she retreats to
the mouth of the dungeon.”
“Do the deceased possess healing and magic potions?” I asked.
Our own supply of the rare concoctions was running low at the
moment.
“Strangely enough, no.”
I settled back into the throne and pondered our enemies’ plan.
They were sending hundreds of relatively weak fighters armed with
powerful weapons and artifacts to attack the dungeon, followed by
small groups of extremely powerful warriors. They must have known
how the dungeon functioned and were purposely sacrificing not only
the lives of the men, but also the valuable weapons and armor in
order to continually weaken us. The strong follow-up groups would
then pierce deep into the dungeon, doing severe damage to our
most powerful minions. The amount of magic gained from the
weaker foes wasn’t sufficient to make up the difference.
I hadn’t prepared for such an attack. It was illogical. Why would
the soldiers and guards volunteer to throw their lives away? That
was the key. Surely, they knew the fates of the men ahead of them,
yet they continuously poured in.
“Another group has entered, Jagen,” Zarah said. She pulled up
an image from the mouth of the dungeon. A squad of ten soldiers
moved in, seemingly unconcerned with traps or hidden enemies.
Just outside, perhaps a dozen feet away, the strange crystal
device awaited. Workers and magic users alike swarmed over the
construct, preparing it for use. Regardless of its function, it was likely
something we were ill-prepared to handle at the moment. No doubt it
was protected by magical wards and shields to prevent a direct
assault, and the warriors assembled around it looked far more
powerful than the average Royal Guard.
“Do you have any minions that would be better suited to our
defense?” I asked the bemused Dungeon Mistress.
“I can think of quite a few. However, it would take considerable
magic to bring them here, and, as you can see, our reserves are low.
We’ll have to figure out a way to neutralize the enemy first.”
“Could we siphon magic from the Nosteran dungeon?”
 “We could, but it’s not a perfectly equal exchange. It costs a
certain amount of magic to transfer it so far. You would be better
served keeping it there in case we are forced to retreat.”
“Retreat? And leave my minions and treasures behind? All that
I’ve worked for?”
“Death or riches...sometimes you must choose. You are the one
who has brought these powerful forces against us — broadcasting
yourself to the world and inviting them to attack us.”
“Careful, Bitter. I’m in a foul enough mood without your insults.”
“As you wish.”
“Are you capable of handling this new batch without me?” I
asked.
“I’ve been doing so for several days. I imagine so, although I
would be more effective with my own minions.”
“If the situation worsens or changes, let me know,” I said as I
stood and walked down the steps to my bedroom.
Tearing free of my soiled and bloodied prison clothes, I tossed
them to the floor. A gloob inched out from under the bed and began
devouring the rancid material. The shower took a moment to warm
as the spell built up power. I stared up at the droplets of hot water
and closed my eyes as the rainfall washed over me. When I opened
my eyes, Zarah stood before me.
She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close,
whispering in my ear. “What happened?”
I thought of Knoth’s betrayal, the ghastly golden statues, my
torture and escape. “You...were right. I never should have gone. It
was a monumental mistake.”
She stepped back and held me at arm’s length. “Tell me.”
“Knoth usurped the throne with the help of the Uxper Orthodoxy
and the expelled nobles.”
“Your brother? I thought he was missing.”
“He must have been plotting with the others this entire time while
in hiding.”
“But you’re the first-born son. You should be king. Turn around.”
I turned about so that my back faced her.
 “By Castigous! What happened to your back? These wounds are
fresh!”
“It seems the law and tradition only apply to those who wish to
follow it. They’ve turned public opinion against me. They must have
been working from the shadows for months. As for my back, I was
promptly returned to the Arbiters’ torture chamber so they could find
out what I’d done with their treasures — oh, remind me to put the
Royal Seal in the Sanctum when we are done.”
“Don’t these wounds hurt?” she asked as she gingerly rubbed
them.
“No. Losing my kingdom hurts. Being made a fool of hurts.”
“You did what you thought was best. You can’t control what the
people believe.”
“Perhaps if I’d recognized the threats sooner, I could have.
Perhaps public executions of dissidents would have dissuaded
others.”
“Or perhaps it would have turned them against you sooner. I...just
find it so hard to believe your own brother would do this to you. Do
you have many memories of him?” She began to rub my hair with
scented oils and soap.
“No, only a few. Knoth was timid and seemed to have no interest
in politics — or anything else, for that matter. I suppose he
worshiped our father and saw him as some kind of hero. The young
man I saw was not the same. He was filled with confidence
and...pain. He’d grown hard. He blamed me for everything that has
happened.”
“Well, you did murder your father and steal the kingdom, which
upset just about everyone.”
“He seemed unstable, as if he were losing control. The priests
took him away as he flew into a fury.”
“Odd,” Zarah said as she massaged my shoulders. “Do you think
he’s a puppet of some sort? Just an unwitting idiot?”
“Perhaps...or perhaps there was something more. It was almost
as if something wore off and they had to remove him from sight. I
suspect he’s being manipulated in more ways than one.”
 Zarah sighed and gently turned me around to face her. “Don’t tell
me you intend on rescuing him. You’re not planning on going back,
are you?”
“My only concern at the moment is protecting the dungeon
and...you.”
“Just don’t bring any more of those nasty bugs into the dungeon.”
I remained silent.
“Jagen, you promised!”
“Bitter might have minions we can use against these attacks. I’m
not sure that’s a promise I can keep.” I rinsed the last bits of soap off,
willed the water to stop, and grabbed a towel, drying myself before
sitting on the edge of the bed.
“If they come over, they go back when this is done,” she said with
finality.
“Now, that I can promise,” I said as I patted the bed beside me.
She disappeared and reappeared behind me, draping her arms
around my shoulders. “You might be the most foolish man I’ve ever
met,” she whispered into my ear.
“I...won’t even argue with you at the moment,” I said as the
visions of the fiery massacre flashed before me. Even the scent of
the charred bodies lingered. I wondered if Zarah had smelled it upon
me.
“Something still troubles you,” she said.
“Knoth...said some things. I believe he killed Gilv and Mother. I
don’t know why he would do that.”
“I’m beginning to wonder about your family. I’m sorry, Love,” she
said as she kissed my neck, slightly biting with her fangs.
Her words weren’t of much comfort. I wondered if she even felt
much concern over the matter. I believed she cared for me, but she’d
given up her human form in order to deaden her feelings. Did that
effect apply to only her own past? Perhaps the affections she felt
were merely echoes of her past...something she knew of and wanted
to replicate to feel the emptiness and loneliness inside.
“Something else happened. When we were escaping the city, a
mob tried to stop us and attacked. I...lost control and murdered them
all. They burned to death. It shouldn’t have been possible...I don’t
know what happened.”
She froze a moment before she leaned in again. “You blame
yourself?”
“There’s no one else to blame. It was my spell — my loss of
control. I set all of this in motion. I never should have gone back.”
“There is someone else to blame. They stood in your way. They
attacked their king. They are to blame.” The magical orbs of
illumination around the room dimmed. Zarah began to hum as she
ran her fingers through my hair.
“I wanted to change the world — make it better for all men. More
equal.”
She paused. “You had a noble goal, and you’re a good man. You
just didn’t...”
“Didn’t what?”
“You didn’t have the...cruelty to do what needed to be done
before it was too late.” She resumed her tune.
“You mean I should have gone to war with the Merromonts and
the deserters when I had the opportunity. I should have executed the
clergy and wiped away my enemies before they had a chance to
consolidate their power and poison my city with their lies.”
“I’m but a simple bard. I don’t know what you should have done.
The songs of old tell of foolish men and their quests and failures.
You...perhaps weren’t suited to the game they were playing. It’s far
easier to tear down than to build.”
I thought of my father, and the memories I’d regained. Of all of
my family members, he had generated more memories than the
others, but the story was far from complete. I knew he had been
ruthless. He was willing to lie, cheat, and kill to preserve his power.
The tales I’d read in Nosteran’s libraries proved it. Yet, until he’d
been betrayed by me, he’d kept a firm grip on the kingdom for
decades.
“Perhaps you’re right. My father took whatever steps were
necessary to eliminate his enemies and force obedience from the
citizens, and they loved him for it.”
 She leaned back and pulled me toward her until we lay side by
side. “Frightened people love a strong leader. It’s always been that
way. Even in my day.”
I thought of my leniency, the follies I’d made in my short reign. A
sudden bittersweet thought caused me to chuckle.
“What is it?” Zarah whispered.
“My father’s downfall. I should have been executed for my
crimes, but he showed me mercy. In the end, it was that rare mercy
that ended him.”
She traced the tip of a single claw across my cheek. “As herald of
Castigous, perhaps mercy isn’t wise. Maybe it angers him.”
I turned to face her, kissing her before she could react. “Enough
unpleasantries. I thought you came here to make me feel better.”
She smiled, running her tongue across her lips. “I was just
waiting for your whining to cease.”
The lights winked out.
 CHAPTER ELEVEN
Anticipation

A
fter a hearty breakfast in bed, provided by a joint operation
between the newly reanimated Ho’Scar and several jimps, I
joined the others in the throne room. Mistress Bitter was absent.
Yaug leaned back in his throne, his bony fingers tented. He
appeared lost in thought.
“How goes the defense?” I asked as I climbed the steps.
Yaug jerked and turned his bleached-white skull to face me. “The
invaders from last night have been eliminated. They fell at the hands
— or hooves — of your torturer, the pig-man. He was better
prepared for their assault this time, and it seems all of the trapped
dungeon equipment has been sprung.”
“Where is Bitter?”
“She handled the bulk of the defense, even lending aid with some
of her roach warriors. The assault went late into the night, so she is
resting. I returned in order to provide watch in her absence, Master.”
“Have you uncovered many trapped enchantments? How far did
you make it?”
Despite not possessing lungs or even flesh, the lich sighed.
“Several. I removed all that I could locate. As I expected, it may take
weeks to sniff them all out. Some were quite complicated and their
true function hard to determine. The enchanter who created them
was very skilled.”
“Keep watch and contact me if anything changes,” I said. The
room changed to a cell in the Ironpit Dungeon as I traveled to
Carine. She looked somewhat better, but I’d expected her to be
awake. The shaman I’d placed on duty slept in the corner as a
healing totem pulsed under Carine’s straw-covered bed.
Toxin stepped through the doorway. “It’s a potent poison,
designed to slow or counter healing effects while slowly destroying
the body from within.”
“Have you administered an antidote yet?”
 The rogue looked down at the sweat-covered gnome. “I’ve done
my best. The poison should have been neutralized by now, but I fear
her organs may have suffered permanent damage.”
“The healing spells will repair that.”
He shook his head. “No, the poison was designed to bond to the
organs and break them down again if they were repaired. I suspect it
was infused with a powerful magic, as the poison didn’t react to my
anti-venoms as it should have. Otherwise, she would have healed by
now. The shaman is doing her best, but...”
“What are you saying? That she can’t be healed? Surely
something can be done.”
“Perhaps if she were killed and brought back by a powerful
cleric...the organs could have a chance to reform as normal. I’m
concerned that her arm doesn’t seem to be responding to the anti-
venom. I’m not familiar with medicine or magic. As far as the poison
is concerned, I’ve done all I can do.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Despite his expertise and
the shaman’s spells, Carine was going to die? We had no such
healers or wielders of light magic. That was the domain of Uxper and
other gods. The goblins’ nature magic was powerful, but nowhere
near as strong as a full cleric’s.
I sent my mind toward Old Vadis, to the goblins’ floor, searching
for another shaman. An old one slept on a makeshift bed. Several
wounded goblins rested around him. Most likely his magic was
depleted.
“See that she remains comfortable and alert me to any changes,”
I said. An instant later, I was in the church.
“Master! How delightful to see you again,” Helatha said as she
floated out from behind the church stage. Her congregation of ghouls
seemed smaller today than I remembered. The soul snatcher bowed.
“How are your forces?”
“In shambles, but I’m...piecing them back together. This has been
quite an assault, but now that you’re here, I’m sure it will be over
soon. Yaug and the insect woman do not have your...unique talents.”
She looked me up and down as she spoke the last comment.
 “Do you know anything of healing magic that might repair cursed
or magicked organs? Carine’s been poisoned, but it’s unlike anything
Toxin has seen before.”
Helatha frowned. “I’m afraid the healing arts are not well known
to me, but curses and hexes are. If you wish, I could take a look at
the stunted little woman.”
“Careful. Treat Carine as you would myself. If you manage to
heal her, perhaps a suitable reward could be found for you.”
The body snatcher smiled. “Indeed? Something I’ve always
wanted?”
“We’ll see,” I said. “Don’t dawdle too long; we will likely face
another attack soon.” With a wave of my hand, I moved her to
Carine’s bedside. The congregation moaned in surprise but
remained placid. Several fresh corpses sat in the back pews,
awaiting their conversion or to be stripped for parts. I returned to the
throne room. Mistress Bitter had returned. A jimp fed her bread,
cheese, and wine.
“Your gnome still lives?”
“She does. Do you have any minions with healing or medicinal
abilities?”
“I never bothered with such things. My minions multiply so
rapidly, they are supremely disposable. If one dies or is injured, they
will be dissolved to feed and strengthen the survivors.”
I thought of the strange goop I’d been fed while in her dungeon.
“I...see. What of Tollo? He seemed experienced with medical
procedures.”
“Tollo is a genius. A twisted genius, but a genius nonetheless. He
may be able to assist your...pet, but I am not sure you will like the
outcome. Tollo, join us.”
The strange spider-headed man appeared before us. “M-
mistress? I was not expecting —”
“Silence, worm. Our...master requires your assistance. See if you
can be of use for once, or I may feed you to the larvae.”
“Oh, Mistress, it would be a pleasure to serve you in any way.
How may I be of assistance, Master?”
 “There’s a gnome in a satellite dungeon that was poisoned. I
need you to heal her if possible. Shalla and Toxin will tell you more.”
With a mental command, he disappeared.
“I believe another group is preparing to enter the dungeon,”
Zarah said.
“Have all the doors been reset?”
“All except the goblin door and the door from the Arbolisk Forest.
Their magic was damaged by Publin’s sabotage.”
“And I suppose the main entrance remains blocked — unable to
be closed?”
“Of course.”
“Show us this group.”
An image materialized before us, hovering several feet above the
thrones’ dais. A group of adventurers were finishing their last-minute
preparations.
At the forefront of the party, a massive man rippled with muscle
unlike any I’d seen before. Instead of armor, he wore a thick metal
collar and a single shoulder pad. Long, thick chains draped
themselves over his body and attached to the collar, forming a loose
armor of flailing metal links. Below that, he wore a brown leather
loincloth and matching boots. Both were lined with fur around the
edges. His long, black hair, dark eyes and copper skin marked him
as a savage Mangorian barbarian. The weapon across his back
appeared to be the femur of a large beast, with a leather-wrapped
handle and a spiked metal ball on the end.
The next member of the group was a high-ranking Uxper priest.
He appeared to be of the same rank as Archbishop Hiphet Phell, the
priest who had attempted to drag me back to my father not so long
ago. Phell had proved to be a formidable opponent, with powerful
healing spells, wards, resurrections, and holy attacks.
The third member of the group was a red-scaled scalax warrior
clad in leather and scale armor. She wielded a flaming sword — no,
a sword made of actual flame — and carried a quiver of glowing
bolts upon her back. An intricate black metal helm seemed almost
molded to her head, with several spiked horns protruding outward.
 “What type of opponent is that one? Have you seen her before?”
I asked.
Mistress Bitter answered. “Yes, that is a flame warden. She
participated in one of the earlier attacks. A combination of a warrior
and flame magic user, she proved to be most formidable at
eliminating several minions at once. I believe she was called
‘Gharex’ by her companions.”
Her graceful and powerful movements reminded me of Zhalix, the
renowned artisan who had provided much of the metalwork in the
dungeon. Yet this warrior radiated an aura of destruction instead of
creation.
The final group member was a magic user of some type, but she
shunned the traditional robes of wizards and other casters and wore
a skintight suit of gray elastic material. On her back, a massive barrel
rested, attached to her by a single leather strap. If it contained
anything, it must have weighed several hundred pounds, but she
moved as if it were empty. The white tribal tattoos on her visible dark
skin indicated she was most likely from the Nardu Islands far off the
coast of Mangoria. Outsiders were not permitted on the islands, and
not much was known about them. If one wished to interact with the
islanders, they had to land on a small floating town off the coast
called Razor Bay.
“Such an...eclectic gathering of warriors,” Mistress Bitter mused.
“Also, strong,” Asp noted.
“Yes, most likely the strongest we have faced,” Mistress Bitter
stated. “Would you have me monitor this, or shall you take control,
Master?”
“I’ll oversee it, but if you have pertinent knowledge or
suggestions, do not hesitate to interject.”
“Understood.”
Other magic users and priests gathered, to lend their support
spells to the group, presumably to save them from using their own
magic. I again focused on the large gem construct behind the
invaders.
“Have you noticed that device? Do you have an idea of what it
might be?” I asked.
 “No. Perhaps it is a bomb or magic storage vessel. I’ve not seen
its like before. However, I would sorely like to possess it. I’ve never
seen a gem so large.”
“Keep an eye on it while I focus on this group. If it somehow
lends them support or enters the dungeon, notify me.”
“Yes, Master.”
It seemed the party’s preparations were nearing completion. The
barbarian beat his chest with his fists and roared toward the sky
before dragging a curved bone dagger across his chest. Dabbing his
fingers in the blood, he marked his face just under his eyes.
He then stormed through the dungeon’s opening, not bothering to
verify if his compatriots were with him.
I leaned back. “Let the game begin.”
 CHAPTER TWELVE
Rampage

T
he first group of skeletons met the adventurers just outside the
prison on the hall that led to the outside. These skeletons were
much more powerful than the ones I’d contended with the first time
I’d explored the dungeon by myself. Their weapons and gear had
been upgraded using those of warriors who had fallen in the
dungeon over the past year and months, and just like most creatures
in the dungeon, it seemed they grew stronger as the dungeon
expanded.
The barbarian’s bone club struck with such force, the lead warrior
skeleton’s shield buckled, and the hapless reanimated pile of bones
crashed into the opposing wall, shattering to pieces. The next
minion’s sword slashed at the muscled brute’s exposed side,
opening up a minor wound on his arm before the barbarian brought
his club down on the undead warrior’s head, crushing him into the
ground. Two arrows struck the savage next, one barely lodging into
the side of his neck. He raged forth, bashing first one archer
skeleton, then the next. By the time he had single-handedly
eliminated the group of animated bones, his group had caught up to
him, but they seemed to be in no hurry.
The barbarian ripped the arrows from his flesh as if they were
mere annoyances. A quick, low-level heal from the priest instantly
closed the wounds, and the barbarian was off again, seeking more
foes to vent his fury on.
“Should you not assist Rokar?” the priest asked the scalax flame
warden.
The scalax watched the barbarian decapitate another skeleton
and shrugged. “I do not think he requires my help, Archbishop Phell.
I shall wait for a true challenge. Perhaps he will tire himself out. I
loathe his methods...there is no beauty in his destruction.”
“He just called that priest ‘Phell.’ There once was another
powerful group that came through the dungeon with a priest with the
same name,” I said.
“Perhaps a relative, seeking revenge? In my time, I’ve witnessed
quite a few men and women on missions of rescue and vengeance.
It is so convenient when family members find themselves in my
torture chamber, as their siblings or others come searching for them,
and I gain a bountiful haul of lives,” Mistress Bitter said.
“Perhaps. That group was able to defeat the dungeon without
much effort, but of course both the dungeon and I have progressed
far beyond those days,” I said.
“But of course, Master.”
The tall magic user in the back spoke next. “There is no beauty in
destruction or war. Life is beauty, Gharex.”
“A dead forest burned to the ground grows back heartier than
before, Yuloriony Hu. When the elders of a village die so that there is
enough food for the young to live, that is part of the circle of life.”
“You simply wish to argue that your wanton destruction has merit,
dragonkin. The goddess Hiala does not require your fire to do her
work in the world.”
The scalax smiled, revealing a curved row of razor-sharp teeth.
“You have your philosophy, and I have mine. Sometimes the weak
must be culled. Flowers can grow from corpses.”
While the three stragglers of the group slowly walked and chatted
through the dungeon, the barbarian, Rokar, raged ahead,
slaughtering the skeletons with ease. While I’d never expected the
bony warriors to stop the group, I was dismayed to see one member
was strong enough to defeat my minions.
The priest stopped to pick up the key, which rested under a pile
of bones and armor. Continuing toward the level exit, they found the
barbarian swilling down ale from a tankard that appeared to be a
barrel that gnomes would use to transport liquids.
“Lazy bastards. Leaving me to do all the damn work,” the
barbarian growled as he wiped away foam from his mouth. A dozen
arrows jutted out from him, making him look akin to a muscled
porcupine. His armor smoked, and half of his hair had been burned
away — most likely due to a fireball from the skeleton wizard,
Nebulus, who had been part of Inevitable Oblivion before I converted
him to one of my minions.
Archbishop Phell shook his head as he cast another healing spell
on the injured warrior. “Don’t pretend to be upset. You enjoyed every
minute of it.”
The arrows fell away and the singed hair and burned flesh grew
back as the barbarian smiled. “Aye! I wish there were more of them.
The sound of bones snapping is music to my ears.”
“Then you just played a symphony, my friend,” Gharex said as
she drank from a wineskin.
“The pig is the only defense on the next level. He should prove to
be only a minor obstacle,” Archbishop Phell said.
Rokar picked his teeth with a finger bone. “I was promised blood!”
“Oh, there will be plenty of that,” Gharex said as they entered the
stairwell down.
“An impressive group. It has been many decades since I’ve seen
one so formidable,” Mistress Bitter noted.
I began to wonder if we had the resources to defeat such a
group. Each of them was equal to an elite minion, and their skills
were balanced well against each other. If the dungeon’s magical
reserves had been higher, it would have been of little concern, but
our foes had slowly whittled down our stockpile over the past few
days.
“Do you think Ho’Scar can stop them?” Zarah asked as the image
changed to the next level landing room.
“No. At best, he can delay them,” I said. I wondered if this is how
Mistress Bitter had felt as my group had traversed her dungeon. Yet,
she had a trick up her sleeve at the time.
“Bitter, can you summon the insects you used to infiltrate our
bodies and attack us from within?”
“I wondered when you might ask that,” she said as she tugged at
the magic within the Soul Sphere. “They take time to accumulate. It
would have been best to place them in the first level, but the third
level should suffice. There, it is done.”
I felt a small, almost imperceptible change on the goblin level, as
if a small infestation had taken root. The magic in the Soul Sphere
dipped approximately five percent. “So much magic for such a small
transfer?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Mistress Bitter said.
The dungeon level had already been ravaged by the previous
assaults. The cell doors remained open, their occupants either killed
or freed. Ho’Scar’s room was in shambles, along with his kitchen. If
we’d had more magic, I could easily repair both rooms, but we
needed everything for defense at the moment. The group found the
torturer in his torture chamber, fully prepared for combat. Without all
of his torture devices, however, he would be limited in the amount of
power he could gain throughout the fight.
“Yer in a bad place, strangers. My best machines might be
wrecked, but I’m sure I can find a few for ya,” Ho’Scar growled.
“Ya talk too much!” Rokar roared as he barreled across the room,
knocking damaged torture devices out of his way.
“Oh, a loud one. I’ll make ya scream,” Ho’Scar said as he ran
toward the barbarian. The pair crashed into each other in the middle
of the room and instantly began beating each other with their bare
fists and hoof-hands.
“Ya smell like a three-week-old full bedpan,” Ho’Scar said as he
grabbed the barbarian in a bear hug.
“Yer weak like a mewling kitten, pig,” Rokar said as he burst free
and brought both of his fists down on Ho’Scar’s shoulders.
The other group members stood to the back of the room,
watching the two brutes beat each other. “I’ve got twenty gold on the
pig,” Gharex said.
“Neither of us wastes money on betting,” Yuloriony Hu replied.
“You know the barbarian is the only one foolish enough to accept
your bets.”
“Are you sure you won’t make an exception?”
“Positive.”
Ho’Scar lifted Rokar above his head and slammed the warrior
hard to the ground, stunning him. Grabbing one of the chains
attached to the barbarian’s collar, he wrapped it around the thick
Mangorian’s neck muscles and braced his knee against Rokar’s
back and pulled, attempting to snap his neck. A sizzling explosion of
fire erupted from the porcine torturer’s large belly, leaving bubbling
skin and burned hairs beneath his flexible armor.
Gharex retrieved another spear of fire from her quiver, launching
it toward the wounded Ho’Scar. “By the way, I take back my bet, so
don’t try to claim it.”
“Have no worry. We shall not,” Archbishop Phell said.
Ho’Scar ducked the second bolt, but found his feet knocked out
from under him by Rokar, who brought his bone club down on the
pig-man’s shoulder.
“Now we’ve got a party!” Ho’Scar said as he dipped his hoof-
hands into two pouches on his sides. When they reemerged, they
were covered in metal gloves with spikes upon them. He punched
the barbarian’s shin with one, then his stomach with the other,
leaving inch-deep holes in the muscled flesh.
Rokar brought his club down again. Ho’Scar blocked it with his
metal mitt, but all three spikes on the end flattened. “What the hells?
Those were enchanted, ya bastard!” He ducked the club’s next
swing and unleashed an uppercut that sent several of the
barbarian’s teeth flying.
Rokar retaliated with a quick jab to Ho’Scar’s snout, followed by a
crushing blow from his club into the torturer’s ribcage.
“Never fought a Mangorian before. Ya ain’t disappointin’,”
Ho’Scar said as he wiped blood from his mouth.
“Ya talk too much!” Rokar said again as he kicked Ho’Scar’s feet
out from under him. Ho’Scar grabbed one of the chains around the
barbarian’s chest and jerked hard, sending the large man tumbling
forward.
“Got ya!” Ho’Scar said as the large box dropped from the ceiling,
completely enveloping the barbarian. The torturer rushed to the box
and spun the crank as the barbarian grunted from within.
“Now that’s damn better,” Ho’Scar said as he pounded his two
metal fists together with a clang. Another bolt of fire crashed into his
armor, melting thirty links of the mail together in a slab of molten
metal that sizzled against his flesh. “Keep it comin’!” he growled as
he thundered toward the remaining party members.
 “Are you going to do something?” the Uxper priest asked of the
scalax flame warden.
“I just did. Do you see that glowing spot on his armor? That was
from me. Did you see what he did to Rokar? I’m not going toe-to-toe
with him.” The scalax folded her arms and turned away.
“I’ll handle it,” Yuloriony Hu said. She pulled her two wands free
and fired a double blast simultaneously at the stampeding boar
warrior. Bolts of water struck him with enough force to pause each of
his steps, but he smiled and continued on.
“I love it when ya play rough!” he said as he stomped his hoof,
sending out a shock wave that sent his foes teetering.
“I call upon my ancestors’ power!” Yuloriony Hu shouted as she
wove several hand signs in quick succession. The cork in her barrel
popped off, allowing a steady stream of water to flow out and around
her. In a split second, the water formed the glowing shell of a
powerful humanoid shark around the warrior.
Ho’Scar launched his chain and sickle toward the group. The
flame warden ducked the deadly blow as the priest fell backward.
The curved blade plunged into the liquid shark, stopping inches
away from the magic user embedded within. The water quickly
hardened, locking the weapon inside. The shark twisted, jerking the
chain hard and sending Ho’Scar tumbling off balance. He fell
headfirst into the shark’s toothy maw.
“Ain’t no seafood going to make a meal out of me, gonna fillet ya
and cook —” the pig warrior shouted as he pressed against his foe’s
watery shark avatar. His hoof-hands found nothing to shove against
as they plunged freely into the water, but the shark’s mouth chomped
down on his head and upper body several times.
“Not...gonna —” Ho’Scar said as the last bite severed his head.
Red blood flowed into the shark’s glowing translucent form as the
torturer’s head floated freely inside for a moment. The shark body fell
to the floor with a splash as Yuloriony Hu gasped for air. With
another hand sign, the water swirled into a tight funnel and reentered
the barrel, which promptly corked itself closed. Ho’Scar’s blood
remained pooled on the floor, along with his head.
 “Not bad,” Gharex said as she inspected Ho’Scar’s body and
removed the sickle and key ring.
“It’s not going to be worth much,” Archbishop Phell said.
“Not everything in life is about wealth accumulation. I merely
wanted a souvenir of the encounter.”
“Everything in my life is about wealth accumulation,” the priest
said haughtily. “Let’s recover the boneheaded barbarian again.”
“Looks like Ho’Scar’s defeat of that barbarian generated a little
magic,” Zarah said.
I turned to see that the Soul Sphere’s reserves had increased but
were still below thirty percent. We needed far more if we were going
to survive this siege.
“Our friend seems to be in quite a predicament,” Gharex noted as
she poked the cube-shaped barbarian.
Rokar grumbled as he tried to move, but the fleshy cube merely
wobbled in place.
“A ghastly fate. Do you think it would be permanent if not
dispelled?” Yuloriony Hu asked.
“If we left him here, it would surely solve many of our problems,”
Gharex stated.
The cube hopped several inches into the air, landing marginally
closer to the scalax. A low growl emanated from somewhere within.
“Who would act as our protection? Do you intend to bear the
brunt of our enemies’ attacks, lizard?” Archbishop Phell asked.
“And mar my exquisite armor? I think not. Revive the brute, then.”
The priest flipped through his bible, searching for a proper prayer.
As he recited it, a golden light shone from above on the hapless
barbarian. The box-barbarian teetered and tottered. An arm would
break free, then a leg. His head popped up as he struggled to break
free of his enchanted form.
“It is...a powerful enchantment...” Archbishop Phell said as
perspiration began to gather along his brow. The light faded, and the
barbarian snapped back into a cube shape. “It’s too strong for me to
dispel here.”
“You are suggesting we return to the surface?” Yuloriony Hu
asked.
 “Retreat after only two levels? Are you insane? Think of our
reputation, Phell! There are commoners who made it farther than
this.”
“There is an alternative, although unpleasant.”
Gharex smiled wickedly. “Are you suggesting what I think you are
suggesting?” She removed the hilt from a loop on her belt. A searing
blade of fire erupted from it.
“Just try to not take joy in it. He is your group mate — and please
do no unnecessary damage. It will cost me more magic.”
“Oh, I solemnly swear I take no pleasure in this at all,” Gharex
said as her grin expanded.
The barbaric cube seemed to understand what was about to
transpire and bounced toward the flame warden, its sideways mouth
snapping and growling. Gharex stabbed deep into the center of the
living block several times, eliciting howls of frustration before the
barbarian stopped moving.
The priest nodded in satisfaction. “Minimal damage and it was
over quickly. Thank you.” He then recited a powerful prayer that sent
the room shaking for a moment. When the flare dwindled, Rokar
stood before them, completely healed and whole. Even his armor
and gear had been restored.
He smacked his bone club against his free hand several times
before pointing it at Gharex. “You...”
Archbishop Phell placed his hand on the muscled warrior’s
shoulder. “It was necessary...my friend.”
“Did you notice, Master?” Mistress Bitter asked.
“No. What should I have taken note of?”
“The small glow from the priest’s hand. He used some type of
mind-altering magic on the barbarian to calm him.”
“Interesting.”
The group filed out of the torture chamber and descended to the
next floor. It had become apparent that everyone who entered the
dungeon knew the layout and what to expect on each level. Again, it
was my own fault for allowing visitors when I was dealing with
matters of the kingdom.
“Looks like they’re going to rest,” Zarah said.
 “Most likely the priest needs to replenish his magic after such a
powerful spell. Are your insects in position?”
“They are dispersed throughout the level. With so few, it will take
longer to infect them. There are several in the room with them now.”
Gharex paused rifling through her bag to swat at one of the
gnats. “Annoying filth!”
Rokar sat with his back against a wall and closed his eyes.
“Lizard worries too much. Bugs are just protein.”
“It’s odd that we haven’t seen many insects so far, even in the
unhygienic torture chamber, yet they are virtually swarming us at the
moment,” Archbishop Phell said as he waved several of them away.
He cast a quick prayer. The insects glowed slightly. “Magic! They are
somehow enchanted!”
“Such minor enchantments, though. I wonder what purpose they
could serve. Regardless, I shall handle them,” Yuloriony Hu said. Her
barrel uncorked again. A fine mist radiated outward, filling the
chamber. Mistress Bitter’s insects slowly gathered water upon their
bodies until they were encased in small spheres. Once they had
suffocated, the droplets fell to the ground like rain.
“That...didn’t work out very well,” Zarah said.
“It is because you were too conspicuous about it. You should
have dispersed them more. My Lady would not have been so foolish
about it,” Asp said.
“Maybe she should have said something, then,” Zarah countered.
“Silence. The plan failed. There is no use bickering about it.
Against such seasoned and talented adventurers, it was unlikely to
succeed,” I said. “I’m going to check on Carine.”
Carine’s room was now pitch black and empty. I cast an orb of
light. Bloodied bandages, empty vials, and torn clothing littered the
floor. What had happened? I searched the dungeon in my mind’s eye
and found them in the torture chamber. With a push of my will, I
joined them.
“Why did you move her?” I asked.
Tollo jumped, all eight of the legs on his spider-head body
straightening out in fright. “M-Master! I was just...”
 I brushed past him to find Carine laid bare on the table, her eyes
wide open. The skin and muscle on her abdomen had been peeled
back, exposing her internal organs. Maggots and worms squirmed
between her intestines, some spilling onto the table, where they
wriggled in her blood and fluids. Her skin was deathly white, almost
as if she’d been drained of blood. She wasn’t breathing.
“What did you do to her, you monster? She’s dead!”
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Too Familiar

M
y hand went for Purgatory, but Toxin placed himself between
Tollo and me. “Master, hear him out.”
Tollo’s head looked as if it was scrambling to separate from his
body. “I-It’s true!”
I relaxed slightly. “You’re saying she’s not dead?”
“I...wouldn’t say that. She’s mostly dead, b-but she isn’t
completely dead!”
“Explain yourself.”
“See, the poison she was infected with was diabolical in nature.
Both physical and magical. It was designed to bond with her organs
on a level that would make it hard to dispel or cure without damaging
the organ. I theorized that the poison would remain a threat as long
as the organs lived, so by killing her, we could neutralize the poison’s
effects!” He seemed rather proud of his theory.
I unsheathed Purgatory and placed its tip against his throat. “I
brought you here to cure her, not murder her!”
“B-but you see, it’s working. Her organs have stopped
deteriorating. I believe the poison’s magic is wearing off.”
“She’s dead!”
“B-but I believe I can revive her. You see, the insects within her
body are performing many of her bodily functions. The maggots are
removing necrotic tissue, worms provide air to her organs, the magic
ants devour the remnants of the spell, while the leaches and the —”
That’s when I noticed a bandaged stump where the gnome
engineer’s infected arm had been. My thoughts drifted back to the
experiments and projects we’d worked on together since I’d known
her. Images of her tinkering with her inventions, always trying to
improve them, smiling. “I did not give you permission to remove her
arm!”
Tollo fell to the floor and prostrated himself. “M-Master! The arm
was the major source of the poison! I could not have done any of this
without removing it. It was entirely infused with it!”
How would she react to the loss of her arm? Would she even
survive this minion’s radical procedure? I began to believe I’d made
a serious error trusting Carine’s health to Tollo. I knew virtually
nothing of him. Perhaps his former mistress knew this would happen
and was toying with me.
I jerked him to his feet with my free arm and shook him out of his
groveling. “Enough. How long until you attempt to bring her back?
I’m so furious right now — the only thing keeping you alive is my
concern for her!”
“W-we have to wait until every trace of the poison and magic is
removed. I believe another half hour! I swear to you this should work,
Master!” Tollo stuttered. “I’m sorry for the loss of her appendage, but
I swear it was necessary!”
I sheathed my sword. “Know this — if she dies or suffers mental
damage because of you, I will feed you to the worms and psuthals.”
Tollo looked down at Carine, perhaps finally understanding his
fate was linked to hers. “I will take great care tending to the little
maggot, Master.”
“Don’t call her that.” I took one more glance at Carine. I wondered
if perhaps it wasn’t too late to submerge her in the Penance of Fate.
It would likely revive her, but there would be no telling what she
would return as. Would she be herself? A skeletal engineer? Some
undead abomination? No, it would also irreparably tie her to the
dungeon. I couldn’t force that upon her...could I?
She’d lived as an adventurous spirit in the world, seeking
knowledge, treasure, fame, and exploration. Would she prefer to
simply die than live as a captive of the dungeon? I liked to think
she’d find entertainment in exploring the Sanctum’s mysteries, but
what if she returned as a mindless ghoul? I recalled how Toxin’s
personality and emotions had been altered by the dark pool of
mysterious liquid.
I felt Mistress Bitter’s will call to me. “Master.”
Returning to my throne, the image before us showed the group
had packed up their gear. The priest placed several blessings upon
the party. The flame warden cast a spell of protection upon the
barbarian, and the water walker refreshed the mist around them.
The goblins had grown in strength along with most of the
dungeon’s minions, but would they prove more than a minor
inconvenience for such powerful adventurers?
The first group consisted of two warriors, an archer, and the
shaman I’d seen earlier. Without a word, the goblins rushed in, using
their shields to ward off attacks from the barbarian and flame
warden. The archer fired slowly and steadily, picking his targets
rather than unloading all of his ammunition at once.
The water walker summoned a thin sheet of water that stopped
the arrows in midair, preventing them from reaching the priest. While
the goblins weren’t very bright, they’d been trained to identify healers
in a group and to go after them first. The old shaman summoned a
glowing red totem that filled his group with strength and rage,
allowing the two goblin warriors to better stand their ground against
the more powerful adventurer melee fighters.
Gharex’s flaming sword slowly dealt heat damage to his foe, as
Rokar’s bone club began to beat dents into his opponent’s shield.
“That’s a fairly well-enchanted shield, yet the damage he is
doing...” I commented.
“I’d wager the savage’s club has the power to remove
enchantments from his opponent’s weapons and armor. With each
blow, it weakens them more,” Mistress Bitter said.
“What would prevent him from simply destroying all the
enchantments on a door?”
“Likely those enchantments would take days to remove if they
were properly maintained — like in my dungeon. Of course, you
could do as your enchanter did and lay trapped enchantments on the
doors, so they would perhaps dissolve anyone who tried to remove
them.”
She liked to slip in small insults where she could, but I ignored
them. While I could punish her, she truly did provide a wealth of
useful information and she knew her minions and dungeon better
than I did, and she had been cooperative after losing her dungeon to
me.
 The battle continued on, with the priest and shaman healing any
damage done to the combatants, but the shaman was beginning to
tire. His warriors and archer were doing an excellent job of shielding
him from the attacks of the opposing party, but he was clearly the
weak link in the group. With the teleporter broken, there was no way
to bring in reinforcements. The goblins would constantly be under
assault and would tire as more groups entered the dungeon.
Then, something unexpected happened. The shaman’s rage
totem faded, and he summoned two electrical totems to replace it.
Rokar lunged toward one of the opposing warriors at that same
moment, and one of his thick chains swung toward the totem. A bolt
of lightning arced through the barbarian’s armor and splintered
through the watery fog the water walker had set up. Each group
member was struck multiple times from both totems, with a rapid-fire
crack crack crack. An arrow found its way into the priest’s shoulder
as the front goblin warrior struck a hard blow with his sword against
Rokar’s exposed leg.
Drawn by the noise, a second group of goblins appeared. This
one consisted of two warriors and two goblins wielding blowguns and
poisonous darts. The two fresh warriors relieved the two exhausted
and injured ones as the ranged goblins pelted the group with the
darts. Several found purchase in Gharex’s exposed scaly skin, as
well as Rokar.
“Amazing. The shaman’s gambit turned the tide of battle. I
wonder if the old greenskin knew what he was doing, or if it was pure
luck,” Mistress Bitter said.
The goblins sensed victory was near, but they weren’t intelligent
enough to realize the true power of their opponents. The priest
quickly uttered a prayer that erected a barrier of force around the
group to buy them time to recover. Rapidly, he prayed the same
prayer several times in a row. Each time, a glow of light surrounded
each member of his party, healing their wounds. The darts and
arrows fell away as flesh mended; cuts and bruises disappeared.
The barrier faded, and an enraged Rokar unexpectedly barreled
into the goblin warriors, bowling them over. The flame warden
launched several fiery spears that mortally wounded the bow and
blowgun goblins. Meanwhile, an unseen trickle of water that led from
the water walker wound its way along the wall until a puddle of water
formed at the feet of the shaman. He flailed as he instantly sank into
the water. Translucent fish swarmed him, biting tiny fragments of
flesh away in a frenzy. By the time one of the warriors pulled him
free, he’d suffered a staggering number of small wounds.
With their ranks broken, the invading group quickly made short
work of the remaining goblins.
“Still, it was an admirable effort,” Mistress Bitter said.
I’d been impressed — almost proud as the two less powerful
goblin groups had worked together to almost overcome opponents
that were at least ten times more powerful than they were, if not
more.
The intruders retreated back into the landing room, where they
sipped healing and magic potions and rested after the unexpectedly
difficult battle. Moments later, they’d strengthened their defensive
spells and were quickly moving down the halls, making straight for
the exit. With the door broken from Publin’s treachery, there was no
need to seek the key. The rest of the goblins on the floor were either
too wounded to fight or unaware of the invaders.
The party exited onto the church level and were immediately set
upon by Helatha’s ghouls. Five of them attacked directly. More
shambled down the halls behind those, attempting to corner the
invaders or force them back up to the previous floor. It seemed
Helatha’s plan was to attempt to overwhelm them with sheer
numbers before they could gather their wits.
Unfortunately, Archbishop Phell possessed powers and skill
perfectly suited to dealing with such opponents. His golden lantern
flared brightly, slowing and weakening the undead swarming toward
him as he recited a memorized prayer that called down a searing
beam of light from the heavens that completely disintegrated the
ghouls on contact. “Now, as we planned,” he said. Amazingly, the
light moved ahead of the party — slowly at first, but then gathering
speed as the group ran behind it. If any ghouls attacked from side
rooms or the walls, Gharex or Rokar dealt with them. The group was
practically dashing through the floor, directly toward the church.
 “Helatha, retreat,” I said mentally to the soul snatcher.
“Master, I can —”
“Hide yourself in the secret stairwell. Don’t argue.”
She hesitated at first, but then floated up onto the stage and
disappeared behind the curtain just as the party burst into the
church. Archbishop Phell’s voice wavered as he muttered another
prayer. The beam of light wobbled before smaller pinpoints of light
split off from it, each striking the foreheads of the ghouls who had
risen from their pews to attack the invaders. Each froze in place as
the color drained from their bodies, leaving behind only dull gray
immobile statues that soon broke apart and crumbled to dust.
The priest fell to his knees, panting and sweating. “W-was she
here?”
“I don’t see any sign of the dark cleric. Only her minions,”
Yuloriony Hu said after a cursory search of the area.
“I’d hoped she would be here. I wished for her to feel Uxper’s
wrath and to learn the power of a true, righteous god,” Archbishop
Phell said as he stood.
“We don’t have time to search for her. After the debacle on the
last level, we are behind schedule,” Gharex said.
“Very well, let us descend.”
“No flippant remarks?” I said over my shoulder.
“I would never insult the Church of Castigous. It was wise to
spare your priestess. While she would have withstood that spell, she
would have been weakened and easy prey for the four of them.”
“I wonder what she meant that they were on a schedule?” Zarah
asked.
“Perhaps another group is going to attack immediately after this
one,” Asp said.
“They have to know we are nearing our limit,” I said. The enemy
knew the layout, minions, traps, and even had an inkling of our
magical reserves. We needed to capture or eliminate the current
group, or we’d soon run out of minions or magic.
The group located the hidden trap door and climbed down the
ladder to the next level.
“Will you risk your precious arbolisks?” Mistress Bitter asked.
 I pondered if the beasts could present a significant challenge to
the adventurers. They required close-range combat, and only one
member of the group required melee distance.
“No, the door is already broken. I don’t believe they will be able to
do significant damage to this particular group. The water walker and
flame warden both have powerful ranged attacks.”
“You are too emotionally attached to your minions. Their purpose
is to serve and die,” Mistress Bitter said.
“My dungeon isn’t swarming with thousands of disposable
minions. The arbolisks are rare creatures.”
“Perhaps they belong in a zoo rather than in combat, then?”
I thought of a retort, but...was she right? I’d been overly
protective of the trio of rare drakes, perhaps even to the detriment of
the dungeon. I could have easily swapped them out for equally
powerful minions from the insect queen’s dungeon, although it was
now too late.
“Yes, I will take that under consideration. For now, hide them in
the lake, Zarah. Tell them to ignore the intruders.”
The group appeared in the Arbolisk Forest an hour later. The
flame warden looked over a map one final time before stowing it in a
bag. “A bit of a trek, but no surprises.”
“Be wary, the arbolisks are powerful opponents. Remain beside
me, Rokar. I don’t have spare magic to waste restoring you back to
human every few minutes.”
“I’ll smash them before they can draw a breath. You’re too
cowardly, priest.”
They descended the stone ramp down into the forest proper,
observing each tree they passed as they went.
“Most were humans, but a few dwarves, elves...here is one of
your people, Gharex,” Archbishop Phell said as he paused before a
tall, thin tree.
“It brings me sorrow to see a kinsman reduced to this. There is
nothing you can do to end her humiliation?” Gharex asked as she
caressed the wooden face embedded in the trunk of the tree. The
tree seemed to shake slightly at her touch.
 “This is a powerful magic. If it isn’t reversed soon after it was
applied, it would take far greater magic than mine to reverse it,” the
priest answered.
Yuloriony Hu stared deeply into the eyes of a tall, transformed
human. “What will happen to them once the dungeon is destroyed?”
Archbishop Phell shook his head, his long white hair flowing back
and forth. “I expect they will wither and die. They are a part of the
dungeon now. It is wishful thinking to believe they would revert to
their normal forms. They’ll join their respective gods.”
“Bah, they are dead. Move on. The weak die, and the powerful
survive. They deserve their fates,” Rokar said as he stormed past
the group.
“Such a brute,” Gharex said as she fell in line behind the
barbarian. Not long after, they reached the arbolisk den.
“No sign of the creatures, and the door is open. Perhaps they
were slain by a previous party?” Gharex stated as she investigated
the arbolisks’ lair.
“Don’t frown on good fortune,” Archbishop Phell said. “Let’s
descend quickly.”
They passed through the disabled door and soon reached the
felae level, which was currently unguarded.
“Allowing a party to pass through two levels without challenge? A
bold move,” Mistress Bitter teased.
“What would you suggest?”
“I would have fortified your weak levels with minions from my
dungeon and rearranged some elements upon arrival instead of
abandoning it to travel to the city.”
Zarah floated down to the insect queen’s throne. “You’ve quite a
mouth on you. You’re lucky Jagen spared your miserable life. You
speak with a lot of confidence for someone who lost their dungeon to
him.”
Mistress Bitter rolled her eyes and waved Zarah away. “He asked
for my opinion, so I gave it.”
“Enough bickering. Hindsight is always crystal clear, isn’t it?
Since I chose a different path, we’ll have to develop a different
strategy.”
 The group located the key on the felae level and poked around,
apparently searching for Toxin. It took them fifteen minutes to solve
the magical puzzle wall. The barbarian had wished to batter it down,
but it seemed the priest had wanted to test his mental skill. Shortly
after solving the puzzle, they opened the door leading down.
“Another level with no challenge. Perhaps the dungeon has
already run out of magic,” Yuloriony Hu suggested.
“I was promised a challenge! I’ll cut out the tongue of the one
who lied to me!” Rokar growled as they descended the stairwell.
“We are less than halfway through the dungeon. Stronger
challenges await, Mangorian,” Gharex said.
“Then move faster!” Rokar growled as he stormed past the other
members.
Retrieving a summoning stone from my bag, I placed it upon the
ground. “Xagrim.”
The ground hissed as the death knight appeared. “What is your
bidding, Master?”
“The dungeon is under assault. Return to your level and defend
it. A powerful group will soon be there.”
“They shall suffer and die by my hand,” Xagrim said. I teleported
him back to his home level.
“Do you believe Mo’Sep and Xagrim can stop them?” Zarah
asked.
“They are two of our most powerful warriors. If they can’t, I’m not
sure if we have the power to survive,” I said.
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Experienced

T
he water walker shivered as the group cautiously proceeded
down the long hallway that ended in the dark Dire Hall.
“I thought your people had adapted to the cold waters of the
ocean?” Gharex said.
“This cold...is deeper than a physical sensation. Something evil
lurks nearby.”
“The death knight. Remember to avoid his touch, and if he lifts
his helm, also his gaze. Rokar should be able to match him
physically. With my holy prayers and Gharex’s powers, this should
not be a difficult battle if you stay calm,” the priest said.
As they moved closer to the large, foreboding hall, Archbishop
Phell’s lantern flared brighter, dispelling the darkness closer to them.
They could soon see their breath as the temperature continued to
drop.
Gharex activated her flaming sword for an extra bit of heat and
light. “Never cared for the cold, myself.”
The hallway finally ended, and a sea of nothing opened up before
them.
“The old throne room lies directly across from us. The knight is
usually —” Gharex said before a giant black sword descended upon
her. She got her sword up at the last instant, but the blow knocked
her flat on her back.
Xagrim’s glowing blue eyes opened. “Die, intruders.”
With a mighty roar, Rokar leapt twenty feet and brought his
gigantic club down on Xagrim’s sword. Sparks erupted where the
metal club tip crashed into Xagrim’s two-handed ebony blade.
The death knight shoved the barbarian off and swept his blade
low to the ground, evidently trying to decapitate the scalax before
she could rise fully. A barrier of water barely stopped the sword as
the water walker joined the fight.
 “Priest, do something! He’s too strong!” Yuloriony Hu said as she
leapt back, barely avoiding Xagrim’s open palm.
“The light should be weakening him!” Archbishop Phell shouted
as he moved the lantern closer to Xagrim.
The knight’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps once. No longer.”
He stomped forward, his powerful swings keeping the barbarian
off balance.
“Help him!” Yuloriony Hu shouted to Gharex, who was still
struggling to rise.
“S-so c-cold,” the flame warden said through chattering teeth.
She shivered as she clambered to her feet, barely able to stand.
Even her sword seemed smaller. Frost had begun to coat the
dragonkin, along with the rest of the group’s weapons and armor.
“He shouldn’t be this strong!” the priest said as she cast a beam
of light that smashed into Xagrim, nearly bringing him to his knees.
Gharex used the moment of opportunity to launch two flame spears
into Xagrim’s chest. His armor glowed and flared where the fiery
spears struck, but he continued to fight as if he hadn’t felt them.
Even the barbarian was slowing down, as waves of frigid cold
radiated from Xagrim’s aura. The Mangorian roared twice and
redoubled his attacks.
“He’s but one monster. Focus him down before we freeze to
death!” the priest shouted as he cast a spell that revitalized and
healed the group’s injuries.
“Am I?” Xagrim said as the sound of thundering hooves erupted
from behind him. Mo’Sep’s axe barely missed Gharex and
embedded itself in the wall, even as his fangs snapped closed on her
armored shoulder, denting the metal. He shook his head to the side
and sent her flying over the priest.
“What is this?” Yuloriony Hu shouted as she frantically cast a
spell that summoned a watery octopus form around her body. The
tentacles lashed out, grabbing hold of Mo’Sep’s neck, arms and front
legs, while the other tentacles attached themselves to the wall and
floor. The powerful monster sliced through its watery bindings, but
they simply reformed as soon as his axe passed through them.
 Archbishop Phell tended to the flame warden’s wounds with a
flash heal. “A new minion. It wasn’t in the reports!”
The water walker’s octopus construct strained against Mo’Sep’s
bestial rage while Rokar gained a second wind against Xagrim’s
ferociously chilling attacks.
Asp gracefully floated toward the image before us. “Notice the
woman’s face. She’s holding her breath while inside of her
summoned creature. I theorize she can only maintain the constructs
until her breath expires.”
“Excellent observation, my Dungeon Heart,” Mistress Bitter said.
“Unfortunately, the fight may be over before that happens,” I said.
Gharex had now summoned her own aura of fire, coating her entire
body in a flaming sheath. She went to work on the captive Mo’Sep,
attacking his bull flanks, crippling and burning him as she went.
Yuloriony Hu’s construct held the animal-man hybrid, preventing him
from attacking or defending himself.
The sound of metal shattering indicated Xagrim’s powerful sword
had finally broken against the dozens of heavy blows from the
barbarian’s magic-stealing club. I’d never seen the sword even
chipped, much less destroyed. I wondered at the barbarian’s strange
weapon. Perhaps there was more to it than its own enchantments.
What creature had the bone come from?
Xagrim didn’t let the loss of his weapon hinder him. Blocking the
barbarian’s blows with his armored arms, he pressed forward. The
first few failed to dent his ebony metal, but the following strikes
began to damage his armor.
“Fall, you pig filth! Fall!” Rokar shouted as he beat the knight
repeatedly. Another pillar of light struck Xagrim, slamming him to the
floor. Glowing coins rained down upon his prone body, burying him in
thousands of pounds of phantasmal gold.
“Now, Rokar, the other one!” Archbishop Phell shouted as he
leaned heavily on his staff. The light inside had grown dim. He
partially healed the barbarian’s wounds with one last healing spell. “I
am out of magic!”
“They should have rested for a day before proceeding to this
level. They expected Xagrim to be a much easier target,” Mistress
Bitter said.
Asp nodded. “The barbarian’s weapon was an unfortunate match
for the knight. He has no range abilities other than his gaze and
depends on his durability in battle. Mo’Sep is likewise limited to
purely physical attacks.”
“The fight is not over,” I said.
The barbarian roared several times in succession before leaping
an impossible distance, landing on Mo’Sep’s back with a sickening
crunch. The beast’s rear fell to the ground, his legs splayed beneath
him.
“The barbarian’s shouts are more than boasts of rage. They
appear to be strengthening himself while weakening his foes. I’ve
heard tales of similar abilities from Mangorians. Just as a combat
bard’s music can boost their allies or hinder their foes, their shouts
can have similar effects,” Zarah said.
The group continued their assault on Mo’Sep until the weakened
monster’s front legs collapsed under him. Standing upon the
creature’s back, Rokar brought his club high above his head before
smashing it down on the beast’s skull twice with all of his might. The
key fell from Mo’Sep’s gargantuan hand, skittering across the floor.
The liquid octopus retreated back into the barrel, leaving the
water walker gasping for breath on her knees. “I thought we
were...dead. The power of that creature!”
Rokar leapt from Mo’Sep’s back, although his right leg collapsed
under him, apparently broken. “By Negath, that was a proper battle!
Fix me, priest!”
“It...will be a while before anyone can be ‘fixed,’” Archbishop
Phell said. He flopped down and took a long drink from a wineskin
before pulling a small glowing blue vial from his belt. He downed its
entire contents.
“Expensive,” Gharex said as she took a sip from a similar vial
before passing it to Yuloriony Hu, who finished it off.
The priest retrieved a glowing red vial from his belt and passed it
to the barbarian. “Here. This should heal you well enough for now.”
“Bah, I don’t need your foul concoctions,” Rokar said as he
ignored the vial. Taking another step, the bone from his leg
splintered, erupting from his shin. “Fine, give it to me.”
“Can we rest in the throne room, at least? It is still frigid out here,”
Gharex asked.
“Well, that was disappointing,” Zarah said.
“This group is extremely balanced and experienced. They
adapted to the appearance of a second elite creature with surprising
ease,” Mistress Bitter said. “At least they will need to rest fully before
continuing, so we’ve gained perhaps six or seven hours. They are
growing slightly stronger as they’ve conquered each challenge. Once
they are fully rested, I fear...”
“I feel we should use this time to rest, ourselves. In the end, it
may come down to our personal defense of the Soul Sphere,” I said.
“Castigous forbid,” Mistress Bitter said as she stood from her
throne. “Do I have your leave to return to my — I mean, the Nosteran
dungeon?”
“You won’t stay in your new bedchambers?” I asked.
“I feel I rest more contently in my own bed.”
“You have my leave, then.”
She nodded and disappeared. It was a shame she couldn’t bring
more minions when she returned. It would take a tremendous
amount of magic to bring Xagrim and Mo’Sep back, especially with
Xagrim’s powerful broken sword. In fact, we likely couldn’t risk
reviving them at the moment.
“I’ll watch the group while you rest, Master,” Asp said.
“Good. Let me know if anything changes. I need to check on
Carine,” I said.
Carine lay in the same position she’d been in the last time I’d
visited, but from the neck down, she’d been cocooned in a pulsing
mass of sticky resin. One of the strange pods had been attached to
the wall near her. A tube ran from the pod down Carine’s throat,
feeding her a glowing purple mixture.
In the corner nearby, a spider’s web filled the area from floor to
ceiling. Tollo rested in the middle of it, like a hammock. The shaman
dozed nearby. I didn’t sense Toxin.
“Tollo, what is her condition?”
 Tollo moaned before rolling over to face away from me. I sent my
will directly at him, ordering him awake. He flailed about and rolled
down out of the web onto the floor. Standing, he bowed. “M-Master! I
didn’t hear you enter.”
“How is Carine doing?”
He rushed over, rubbing his hands excitedly together. The spider
legs on his head undulated against the air. “Much better! I’m feeding
her a mixture of royal jelly and other healing nutrients while keeping
her in a regenerative cocoon. However, her liver failed completely,
and I had to...adjust my strategy.”
“Insect...what did you do to her?”
“I-I merely replaced her liver with a modified leech.”
“You what?”
“I’ve done it numerous times. Destroyed organs can be replaced
with specifically-grown living specimens.”
“You’ve done this with a gnome in the past?”
“W-well, not a gnome, but it has worked with human test
subjects, and the rejection rate is low...usually.”
“My friends are not test subjects, insect. If you further use her for
experimentation, I’ll toss you into the Penance of Fate, understood?”
Shalla appeared. “Apologies, Master, but I witnessed the event.
She would not have survived otherwise.”
I moved to Carine’s side and looked over her face. Her breathing
was easy, and the color had returned to her cheeks. “How long until
she fully recovers?”
“With the assistance of your shaman, perhaps a few days for a
full recovery.”
“Keep me apprised of her status. Tell me if she awakes.”
“Yes, Master.”
Zarah appeared on the other side of the makeshift operating
table. “You should get some rest, yourself.”
“Let’s retire to my chambers,” I said.
Zarah played the instrument she’d named the Crystal Cascade
as I showered. My worries and doubts faded as the instrument’s
glowing lights and crystalline humming filled the room. I wasn’t sure
if it was the instrument or her bard skills that created the rejuvenating
effect, but I was grateful for the brief respite from the day’s defeats.
Donning a robe, I sat at my desk as Zarah continued her melody.
“You’re not going to join me?” she asked.
“In a moment. Can you show me the group?”
“Why work yourself up again after you’ve unwound?”
“I’m merely...curious.”
The image appeared between us. The party had made camp in
the corner of the throne room. A magical fire burned low at the
center of the group. Used dinner plates sat beside each member as
they each drank from wineskins, their faces illuminated by the
flames.
“Are we still on schedule?” the water walker asked.
Gharex removed a small crystal from her pouch. It glowed blue.
“For now. We’ll probably have to make up time when we wake.”
“The next level should prove to be of little challenge. The psuthal
mounts are the true threats,” Archbishop Phell said. “The UniPsu has
the key. Take it from him and move to the door. There is no reason to
eliminate them all.”
“Should make it easier for him, right?” Gharex asked.
Rokar’s snore sent several of the metal plates vibrating. The
priest waited patiently for the rumbling noise to cease before
answering. “What comes after us needs no assistance.”
“All of this trouble and gold just for one man,” Gharex said.
“It’s for a kingdom and to return what was stolen.”
Gharex stared long into the flames, their reflections in her eyes
dancing about. “Yet this isn’t about that, is it? You want revenge for
your sister. You don’t speak much of her.”
The priest smiled slightly, as if recalling fond memories. “Hiphet
was a devout follower of Uxper and an exemplary member of the
church. She made our family immensely proud. I would likely not
have joined the clergy if not for her.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to her.”
“She was betrayed from within her own group. I’m only here to
make sure the traitor’s master is punished in the name of Uxper.
Then, her spirit can finally rest. Her defeat while serving Uxper
counts as a deficit on her ledger. While she resides in His presence,
she won’t have her full eternal reward until it’s paid.”
“Pilon teaches that vengeance is a wasteful cause, and that to
gain eternal harmony, one must ebb and flow with evil and good,”
Yuloriony Hu said after a moment of silence.
Gharex groaned. “Let’s not start the ‘Uxper versus Pilon’ debate
yet again. It’s too late for that. Just go to sleep, Yuloriony Hu.”
“Fine. But those who seek vengeance will find their waters
clouded by doubt and fear.”
“Go. To. Sleep!” Gharex said. She waved her hand over the fire,
which instantly faded. The room grew quiet, except for the
occasional thunderous snore from the barbarian.
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Carving a Path

I
sensed the disturbance seconds before Zarah said anything.
Sitting up, I focused on the psuthal level. Flashes of the battle
appeared in my mind. Dozens of the small humanoids fought
desperately against the intruders. I dressed and headed toward the
throne room. Yaug sat upon his throne, monitoring the battle. The
insect queen hadn’t returned.
“Has your gnome recovered?” the skeletal wizard asked.
“She should pull through, although not without
some...complications,” I said. “How goes the battle?”
“As expected. The invaders have slaughtered a fifth of the
psuthals.”
“Zarah.” The Dungeon Heart appeared to my right and
summoned an image of the level. Bodies of the small psuthal
warriors littered the cavern, along with hundreds of spent darts.
The party advanced on the village as the nimble psuthal pelted
them with projectiles from behind stalagmites and stalactites above.
Each of the darts or arrows froze in midair before falling to the
ground, intercepted by an impossibly thin sheet of water that
surrounded the group. Despite the barrier, it was evident several
members of the group had been struck by the poisoned darts.
“Did the priest cure the poison? How are they unaffected?” I
asked.
“They each imbibed a potion when they were first attacked. I
believe it was an anti-venom.”
“Look, the Strong Ones are coming,” Zarah said.
The group deftly dodged to the side as a massive worm erupted
from the cavern floor beneath them. Gharex’s flaming spears proved
to be especially effective against the giants, searing their slimy flesh
and evaporating the moisture in their bodies.
Rokar engaged the two Strong Ones simultaneously, his rage-
filled shouts visibly weakening them even as he went into a battle-
filled frenzy. The strikes of their whip-like appendages ripped open
his flesh and left bleeding welts on his exposed skin, but the wounds
merely drove the barbarian further into a frenzy. Grabbing hold of a
thick stalagmite, he snapped it off at its base and dual wielded it
along with his bone club.
The powerful mutated Strong Ones took several hits, but their
flexible bodies were well-suited to enduring strikes from the blunt
weapons. They wrapped the barbarian tight in their grips, squeezing
the breath from him. He strained against their coils, his veins and
eyes bulging, but was unable to break free.
“Quick, free him before his rage dies down!” Archbishop Phell
shouted.
“I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment!” Gharex said as she
dodged one of the massive worms. The creature missed the flame
warden and swallowed a boulder instead. She drove her flaming
sword into the creature’s gut, causing it to spastically writhe,
knocking several stalactites free with its head. The falling stones
crushed a small group of nearby psuthals.
“I’m dropping the shield!” the water walker said as the water
surrounding the group returned to her, forming the anthropomorphic
body of a sawfish. She rushed the two Strong Ones and sliced into
them with the long rows of teeth on the fish’s nose extension, easily
cutting through their strong cloth armor and durable rubbery flesh.
The most heavily damaged Strong One dropped its hold on the
barbarian and turned to face the water walker. With a burst of
strength, the barbarian broke free of the other one’s grip and brought
his club up with such force, he actually sent the creature flying ten
feet into the air, where it landed hard against a rocky protrusion with
a sickening slap. It slid down the large rock’s surface and did not stir.
The other one struck repeatedly at Yuloriony Hu, but its
appendages slowed upon entering the watery body of the sawfish,
unable to reach their target. Archbishop Phell used the opportunity to
heal the barbarian’s wounds. In seconds, they’d dealt with the
massive mutated psuthal and turned their attention to the psuthal
warriors that had crept back toward the group. With a mighty roar,
Rokar sent them scattering in fear.
 Rushing into the center of the village, they found the UniPsu
hiding behind a chest in his hut.
I felt Mistress Bitter appear on her throne. “It seems I’ve missed
the excitement.”
“It wasn’t much of a fight,” I said.
“Don’t kill! I give key! Don’t Ssslay me! Deep Onesss defeated!
All sssurrender!” He shuffled out from behind the chest and handed
Gharex the key to the next level. “Take treasure! Don’t kill!”
“Thank you,” Gharex said as she accepted the key. She looked to
Archbishop Phell, who nodded. “Unfortunately, we have a mission.”
In one swift motion, she ran the psuthal leader through with her
flaming sword.
A puff of smoke erupted from his mouth. “Why...” he asked before
he fell over.
The chest contained mostly trinkets, bags, weapons, and armor
they’d collected from the soldiers and guards who had fallen in
previous attacks. Deep inside, perhaps a hundred gold and random
jewels lay scattered loosely. It was as if the psuthal didn’t know what
was valuable and what was not.
“Despite their numbers, they were less useful than the goblins,”
Mistress Bitter noted.
“The goblins have repeatedly seen combat and received
advanced training. The psuthals haven’t been in contact with surface
dwellers for hundreds of years. They aren’t prepared for such
advanced magics and well-trained adventurers,” I said.
After gathering some of the most valuable items from the chest,
the group quickly moved toward the exit, ignoring the remaining
psuthals who lurked in the shadows behind them. Most of the
primitive creatures were too dull to know they’d been defeated, but it
seemed not many of them were brave enough to attack the party by
themselves. After using the key, the invaders descended to the next
level.
I could feel Mistress Bitter’s eyes upon me. “I inherited these
minions. They require development.”
“I wasn’t going to say a thing, Master. I do find it useful to use the
weaker minions as fuel for the stronger. These psuthals are likely full
of nutrients that could feed many of my soldiers.”
I thought of the promise I’d made to the UniPsu — that his people
would prosper and become stronger under my leadership. So far, I’d
failed to deliver on that promise. “No. I believe every minion can
serve a purpose at the proper time.”
“As you wish, Master.”
The party paused before exiting to the next level and rested.
“Those things were disgusting,” Gharex said as she wiped down
her armor with a cloth.
“They remind me of sea slugs,” Yuloriony Hu said as she
commanded her water to cleanse worm guts and psuthal fluids from
her suit.
“Weak warriors, but good splatter,” Rokar said.
“We noticed. Most of this grime is from your carelessness,
primitive,” Gharex said. “Be more careful, you savage.”
“Calm yourselves. The ghostly knights shouldn’t be taken lightly.
They are skilled enemies,” Archbishop Phell said. He uttered several
short prayers. “You will now be able to see them even if they are
invisible, and I’ve granted you a blessing that should help ward off
their attacks. They will be highly susceptible to my spells, so keep
them away from me.”
The priest was right. His spells would prove effective against the
knights, but perhaps he had miscalculated their power. They were no
mere ghosts, but powerful undead specters.
“Master, something else has entered the dungeon,” Asp said.
“Show me.”
A second image of the dungeon entrance appeared above
Zarah’s image of the first party. A tall figure in white and gold plate
armor stood in the hall, slowly looking about.
His gleaming ivory helm possessed a narrow horizontal slit with a
thin gold visor across it. The layered pauldrons were also gold, while
the man’s glowing white breastplate contained intricate gold leaf
designs etched into it. The tasset below his waist came down to the
man’s thighs and overlapped a layer of chainmail underneath it. A
single sheath held a sword to his side, almost all the way to his back,
but it was covered by the tabard, with only the end of the scabbard
showing down near his legs. His leg armor was also white, while the
poleyns covering his knees and his sabatons were gold. He wore a
thick golden cape in addition to the tabard. Uxper’s golden coin,
crossed by two swords, was painted onto the tabard’s front. He
carried no bags or other gear.
He instantly reminded me of the antithesis of Xagrim, but for
some reason this being seemed even more threatening. He strode
forth, leaving the safety of the outside world behind.
“A lone warrior?” Mistress Bitter asked. “Perhaps an
overconfident paladin.”
We waited, but no one else entered behind him.
“He must be very strong,” Zarah said.
“I feel...an unnatural power radiating from that warrior. Do you
feel it, Master?” Yaug asked.
I focused on the intruder. It felt as if he was partially shielded from
my vision, but there was indeed an unnatural aura about him.
He paused in the hall and cocked his head to the side, as if
listening. With one powerful blow, he punched the wall that contained
the hidden portal to the magical safe room. His hand passed through
the stone as if it were water. A ripple of golden energy washed
across the wall before he removed his arm and continued on his
way.
“What did he just do?” I asked.
Zarah closed her eyes and grew quiet before whispering,
“Jagen...I can’t feel the portal any longer. He shattered the
enchantment.”
“Another foe who destroys enchantments?” Mistress Bitter asked
with a mildly annoyed tone.
“I’m not so sure,” I said as I focused on the new intruder. As soon
as he passed into the jail, a ragged group of skeletons set upon him,
slashing, stabbing, and bashing at the man with all of their might.
Instead of defending himself or drawing his weapon, he merely
continued walking, as if he hadn’t noticed the bony warriors.
Once he’d reached the center of the jail, he held up one palm and
unleashed a stream of fire that reached from wall to wall, instantly
burning the skeletons to ash and melting the cell bars to slag. Even
the walls began to melt from the inferno. He continued walking
along, destroying not just any minions he came across, but also the
very dungeon itself. Kicking in doors, he burned the contents of the
rooms to ash. Several of them collapsed completely as their support
beams failed.
“He’s destroying everything,” Zarah whispered.
Even the normally bemused Mistress Bitter seemed concerned.
“What manner of being is he? I’ve rarely witnessed such power.”
“Despite his armor, he seems to be a magic user of the highest
order,” Yaug said. “But the amount of magic he is using is
extraordinary...”
Asp interjected, “I am sorry to interrupt, but the party on the ninth
level has defeated the Knights of Tharune. They are preparing to
descend to the tenth level.”
“This was their plan. The advance group would weaken the
defenses and open the doors for this one. We won’t have the magic
to resurrect minions to stop the lone invader,” I said.
“Stop him? I am not sure you will be able to stop the party that is
edging closer to us,” Mistress Bitter said.
“I loathe to admit it, but you may have to consider abandoning the
dungeon, Master,” Yaug said.
“Is it possible? What would happen if we left this orb behind, and
it was destroyed? Would we all survive if only the Soul Spheres in
the Ironpit and Nosteran Dungeons existed?”
The lich and insect queen looked to each other. If they knew the
answer, they didn’t speak it aloud.
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Double Trouble

W
e sat in silence, watching the powerful group of adventurers
advance upon the teleporter level as the enigmatic single
warrior emerged from the exit to the second level.
“Uh, don’t you think we should bring Ho’Scar back?” Zarah
asked. “Or at least someone?”
“Against something like that? It would be tossing magic to the
aether,” Mistress Bitter said.
“The lead group is proving to be problematic. Perhaps we should
focus on them first?” Yaug suggested.
I contemplated our options. The group had shown themselves to
be powerful and resourceful. If we managed to eliminate them, we
could bring back many of the slain minions by using the magic
generated from their deaths.
However, the lone adventurer was something I’d never seen
before. Even now, he tore through Ho’Scar’s level, more intent on
obliterating the dungeon than searching for treasure or gaining
power. I’d never heard of a being so powerful...he showed evidence
of being not only physically strong, but well-versed in many schools
of magic, even holy spells and prayers. Was he some far-off hero
who had conquered numerous places of power, gaining immense
strength in the process? If so, there was no telling what relics and
other items he’d acquired in his travels. While stories and songs told
of such godlike heroes and villains, surely they were merely tall
tales?
“Any more recommendations?” I asked.
“If we confronted the group after they’ve been weakened in
battle, we may be able to defeat them and recover some, if not all, of
our lost magic, giving us an opportunity to resurrect key minions,
Master,” Yaug said.
“Meaning some or all of us would attack them directly?” I asked.
 Yaug rubbed his bony chin with his hand. “It...would not be
without risks. They may have some unknown item such as a magical
explosive or artifact of great power that could disable or even kill all
or one of us outright.”
“Understood. Mistress Bitter?”
“I suggest a full retreat to my dungeon. We’ll take as much
treasure as we can hold.”
“Abandon the dungeon without a fight?” Zarah asked. “I can’t
believe you’d say that.”
The Dungeon Heart seemed almost outraged by the suggestion.
“Why do you feel so strongly about that, Zarah?” I asked.
“Because I am this dungeon. I don’t know what would happen if it
ceased to be. I assume as long as the Soul Sphere exists, I’ll
survive, but can we even move it? I felt pain within me when
that...monster destroyed parts of that level. What happens if most or
all of the dungeon was destroyed? Would I simply be a hollow,
floating...ghost? Can I exist as a Heart in another dungeon?” Zarah
asked.
These were concepts I’d never considered. “Can the Soul Sphere
be moved? Can we teleport it to your dungeon, Bitter?”
“I have never been forced to move mine, but it is part of the
dungeon, and with enough willpower and magic, I assume any floor
or minion can be moved or reconstituted if you have the resources.”
“I agree that it should be possible, although it may take
tremendous magic to do so,” Yaug said. “Certainly far more than we
have at the moment.”
“We will continue to observe. If the party makes it to this floor, the
three of us and the dragon will deal with them. They will have zero
chance of victory against our combined might,” I said.
“What if the party halts and waits for the newcomer to join up with
them?” Mistress Bitter asked.
“If they slow their pace in an apparent attempt to link up with the
man in white, I’ll join with Toxin and Yaug to deal with them while you
maintain watch over the new intruder and any others who enter. I’ll
leave it up to you to take any steps you deem necessary,” I said.
“A wise choice,” the insect queen said.
 I wondered if she secretly wished for the group to eliminate the
pair of us. Mistress Bitter had been the master of a dungeon for
hundreds of years longer than I. If Yaug and I died, would she be
free from my control, or would she perish along with the other
minions? It was evident she considered me beneath her, even if she
was forced to do my bidding. Perhaps it would be wiser to eliminate
her before she had the chance to do something unexpected.
Yet, she’d done a fine job defending the dungeon while I’d been
away. Yaug was a great philosopher, and a powerful dark master of
magic, but he didn’t seem to have the control and leadership
capabilities of Bitter. His small dungeon required far fewer resources
and oversight compared to ours. Bitter was the better tactician and
had experience controlling hordes of minions that dwarfed my own,
even if they were less powerful individually. There was still a great
deal about her dungeon and minions that I didn’t know. It would be
best to keep her alive — for now.
Zarah floated down to the side of my throne. “You can’t be
serious. You’ll die, Jagen!”
“If the remaining minions can’t stop the party or the new intruder,
I’ll have to fight either way. It would be best to set a trap and attack
them on our own terms rather than face them in the throne room,” I
said.
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but she was torn between
her concern for me and for the dungeon and herself. Her clothes
changed into her skintight leather armor in an instant. “Then if you
fight, I’ll help.”
“With the priest’s spells, I fear you’d be too susceptible to his
attacks. His lantern and holy spells seem to be highly effective
against spirits and undead.”
“I’m not a ghost. They won’t affect me any worse than they affect
you,” she argued.
“They aren’t exactly pleasant for me. If it looks like we need
assistance, you can help. I don’t want you entering the fight until
necessary.”
She folded her arms. “Fine. Just...be careful.”
 “This may all be rhetorical. There are several levels left, after all,”
Yaug said.
“True. We’ll observe them for now, but prepare for combat,” I said
as I sent my willpower and mental commands out to the jimps on the
floor. They scurried off to prepare my armor, weapons, and
equipment for battle.
The image before us showed the group exiting onto the level
which contained the teleportation puzzles. I wondered if any of the
group members had studied history enough to understand the
outdated questions. The flame warden and water walker didn’t strike
me as being overly studious, and the barbarian would likely try to
smash the puzzle stones out of sheer frustration. Only the priest
presented a true threat, as an archbishop in the church would have
studied many years to attain his or her position.
The four of them approached the first puzzle. Only Archbishop
Phell took the time to read it, although silently. “Amusing. I’d love to
solve them, but there are potentially thousands of combinations, and
we have to move quickly.” He looked to Yuloriony Hu. “If you would
be so kind...”
“Just be aware that I won’t be able to create large constructs after
this,” she said as the cork popped off her barrel and floated in the air
beside her.
“It won’t be necessary for the moment, and we’ll soon remedy
that problem.”
Stomping her feet, the water walker turned to the side with each
step, pushing her arms in and out from her chest as she inhaled and
exhaled. She raised her hands to the sky before letting out a shout
of, “Hah!”
The water in her barrel poured forth in a torrent. She moved her
outstretched hands in synchrony with the water, guiding it away in a
thin stream that reached out to the first stone island, several dozen
feet away. She shifted her stance and swung her arms to the left,
causing the water to bounce from the first island toward another.
After ten minutes, she’d connected a string of the platforms to the far
wall, where the hidden door awaited.
 With a final stomp of her feet, she raised her arms up before
slamming them to the ground. “Hasha!” The thin streams of water
instantly flattened into a glassy plane of water, forming bridges
between each platform. Yuloriony Hu stepped onto the newly formed
bridge and bounced up and down. It seemed as strong as stone.
She walked halfway across, then turned to the group. “Are you
coming?”
“Pfah! I don’t trust such sorcery!” Rokar grumbled.
“Just be sure your club doesn’t touch it before we are across,”
Archbishop Phell warned. The rest of the members tentatively
stepped onto the magical bridge and crossed to the first island.
“So much for slowing them down,” Zarah said.
“There are no magical barriers in the air? What would keep one
from simply levitating across?” Mistress Bitter asked.
“I didn’t design it, and I don’t know how to implement magical
barriers such as those,” I said.
“Oh, you should have asked me. I could have done that, Master,”
Yaug said. “It is similar to enchanting an item, but you must enchant
the very air —”
I had to admit that watching the group easily bypass something
that had proved to be a formidable obstacle to our own previous
party infuriated me. “Enough. They have been informed of the
dungeon’s obstacles in advance, which gives them a tremendous
advantage. It’s obvious this group was created with specific goals in
mind that are suited to their individual talents.”
Once the group had bypassed the entire teleporter room, they
searched for the hidden door on the far wall. Gharex marked the
borders of the door with charcoal. “Do what you do best, you hulking
beast.”
“You can’t flirt with me, lizard. I prefer my women with hair and
larger pillows,” Rokar said. He spit into both of his hands before
removing his club from his back. “Stand back, unless you want to get
knocked over the edge!” He unleashed a roar before slamming the
club into the wall, instantly cracking it slightly. With each thunderous
strike, the cracks widened as large chunks of the stone flew in every
direction, even striking him across his body and face. It seemed any
pain he felt from the projectiles was funneled back into his rage.
Soon, a hole large enough for them to walk through had formed.
On the other side of the wall, the outline of the door became
apparent. It was half a dozen feet farther down from where they’d
entered.
Gharex shrugged. “Ah, my mistake.”
“Walls, doors, ceilings, floors — makes no difference to me,”
Rokar said as he stowed his club and wiped sweat from his large
brow.
“Master,” Asp said as she pointed toward the image of the
dungeon she was maintaining.
The white knight tromped out from the exit to the goblin floor,
where a group of goblins awaited. They unleashed their bows and
darts upon him as one of the Bash Brothers thundered toward the
knight. The gargantuan goblin wore thick plate steel armor strapped
to his shoulders, with sharp spikes riveted into the plates. A huge,
spiked helm protected his thick skull. The rest of his armor was an
assortment of mail, leather, and plate haphazardly pieced together.
Even a horse would likely struggle under the weight of the armor. On
his right arm, he wielded a thick steel shield with a single spike
centered upon it, almost as long as a short sword. Small blades and
assorted other weapons had been fused to the front of the shield.
The goblin’s knotted, gnarled hands firmly grasped two stout handles
on the back as he bore down on the much smaller opponent.
“It seems Ligglethorp has been attempting to teach the tribe how
to blacksmith,” I said.
“If so, they have a lot to learn. I’ve seen better work from
children,” Asp said.
“Children are likely smarter than many of the goblins,” Zarah said.
“Yet, I have to admit — they’ve come a long way since Orgun ran the
dungeon.”
The armored man held up both of his hands simultaneously.
Three magical diagrams appeared in the air before him. Three walls
sprang up in the hall between him and the goblin juggernaut — one
wall of ice, another of stone, and the last was fire.
 The Bash Brother exploded through the wall of ice, sending
shards bouncing off every surface of the dungeon. The wall of stone
likewise erupted into a shower of pebbles and rock. Both walls
slowed the rampaging warrior slightly, but not enough to stop him.
The goblin leaned down further as he tore through the wall of fire,
which ignited his entire body. The flaming battering ram roared in
pain but continued his attack until he slammed into the white knight,
who pushed back against the shield. Instead of stopping his
opponent, he found himself skidding down the hallway, sparks
erupting from his sabatons.
The goblin drove him into a stone wall with such force, dust and
small rocks fell from the ceiling. A jagged crack split through the
stone as the sound of metal bending echoed down the hall. The
goblins farther down the hall cheered even as the fire continued to
burn the Bash Brother alive. After a long moment, he fell backward,
still smoldering.
The goblin cheers ceased as soon as the smoke cleared. The
armored knight stood unharmed, the faint outline of his armor
embedded in the stone wall. The goblin’s shield lay on the floor, the
metal bent and warped, its spikes and blades flattened and dulled.
With one motion, the stranger launched two fireballs that wiped
out the remaining goblins. He then continued his unrelenting march
through the level, searching for any survivors and obliterating any
rooms, furniture, items, decorations, or doors he came across.
“He’s destroying everything!” Zarah cried. “It...hurts.”
“Such power. He’s like a living demigod,” Yaug said.
“He’s far beyond your minions,” Mistress Bitter said. “For that
matter, perhaps mine as well.”
“Mistress!” Asp exclaimed. “You can’t mean that.”
“We must seriously begin to think of contingency plans. We
cannot face such an opponent with so few minions and magical
reserves,” the pale green insect queen admitted.
“We have our plans. I haven’t changed them,” I said as the jimps
reentered the room with my armor and weapons.
“This is madness! You don’t stand a chance against such a
being!” Mistress Bitter said.
 I slowly moved down the steps from the dais and began donning
my armor. “I’ve been told that many times in the past, and yet —
here I remain.”
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Deconstruction

T
he vile liquid pulsed and bubbled as the intruders cautiously
picked their way down the walkways. Small slimes periodically
heaved themselves up from the rivers to confront the group, only to
explode into a spray of droplets as Rokar bashed them with his club.
The green mists and noxious gases had long since been
eliminated by having the jimps tunnel up through some of the
enclosed exhaust vents into neighboring caverns and tunnels. While
the gases were indeed a strong obstacle to adventurers, they were
too dangerous to allow in the dungeon. One small spark could set off
an explosion that would destroy the entire floor and could even
damage those above and below it.
Much like the gloobs that kept the dungeon free from rotted food,
bodies, and other waste, the slimes in the sewer system would feed
on any organic material at hand, although they didn’t require it for
sustenance. Perhaps they could feed on the mildew and mold that
grew on the walls, or perhaps they required no food. To me, all that
mattered was they were a formidable defense against intruders.
“This is perhaps the most disgusting place I’ve ever had the
displeasure of visiting,” Gharex said. She looked as if she wanted to
pinch her nostrils shut, but her scalax anatomy prevented such an
action.
“Bah, you should see the Shite Swamp in my homeland. This is
nothing,” Rokar said as he casually knocked the next slime across
the tunnel into the opposing wall.
The smaller slimes attacked more frequently as the group
traveled farther down the sewer tunnel.
“This should be far enough,” Archbishop Phell said. He removed
a small vial of crystal-clear liquid from a pouch and held it under his
lantern for several minutes, bowing his head and muttering prayers
while the barbarian and flame warden eliminated the approaching
slimes.
 “Priest, I feel I must inform you our stamina is not unlimited,”
Gharex said as she deftly stabbed and sliced at the thick, tar-like
blobs. Her flame weapons were not as effective against the slimes
as Rokar’s club.
“Praise Uxper!” the priest said as he uncorked the bottle. The
golden glow of his lantern had infused the liquid within.
Yuloriony Hu took control of the blessed water, mixing it with the
scant amount she had left over from creating the water bridges
above. “That is quite a powerful blessing. My thanks.”
“Prosper under Uxper, my child.”
The water walker jumped into a wide stance as she wove her
arms through the air. The glowing gold water mimicked her
movements. Turning to face several slimes that approached the
group from behind, she spun her hands in circles, causing the
blessed water to form a waterspout. She guided the spout to the
closest slime, where the tip of it touched down on top of the pulsing
black mass. In the blink of an eye, the slime was sucked dry, leaving
behind nothing but darkened dust. The extracted water flowed into
the spout, increasing its size slightly. She repeated the procedure
several times until the area behind the group had been cleared of the
disgusting blobs.
Combining her efforts with those of the flame warden and
barbarian, the group quickly reached the end of the tunnel, where a
massive pulsating mass blotted out the walls and ceiling, resting in
the murky sewer river like a formless giant enjoying a soak in a tub
of hot water.
“Now, before it has a chance to build its strength!” Archbishop
Phell shouted as he pulled a wand from a pouch. A bolt of glowing
blue magic struck King Slime in the center of its body, freezing the
area.
The attack sent the giant slime into an instant frenzy. Dozens of
thick tentacles erupted simultaneously, flailing in every direction and
slinging off bits of themselves that landed near the group, forming
more slimes.
“Now, Rokar! Use your runestone!” Gharex shouted as she pulled
a crossbow from her bag. The weapon’s bolts had been enchanted
with powerful ice spells.
The barbarian touched a glowing stone to his club, enveloping it
with a similar enchantment just as the priest uttered several spells of
protection. The powerful warrior roared twice before leaping toward
the writhing tentacles, smashing them to bits with his club, which
now glowed blue. With seemingly no concern for his own safety, he
took the slime king’s full wrath, receiving dozens of attacks in less
than a minute. His bulging muscles quickly became marred with
black and blue bruises, gashes, and holes, but they healed every
few seconds as Archbishop Phell kept a steady supply of prayers
flowing toward the embattled barbarian.
“Hurry! We are becoming overwhelmed!” Gharex shouted as she
loaded another crossbow bolt.
“It is not ready. It must grow larger,” Yuloriony Hu said as she
guided her whirling waterspout along the path in front of them,
sucking the water from the slimes as it went. Their numbers were
growing faster than she could counter, however.
Yet, King Slime had visibly grown smaller under the relentless
attacks of the cold-enchanted weapons. Hundreds of frozen bits and
pieces of it lay scattered around the room. It was the same tactic
we’d used to defeat it on our first trip to the lower levels.
“Argh!” Rokar stumbled back from the writhing mass, his club
conspicuously absent from his hands.
“It looks as if the barbarian has been disarmed — literally,”
Mistress Bitter said.
“A humorous observation, Mistress,” Asp said. I wasn’t sure if it
was possible to discern a smirk on a jackal’s face, but the Dungeon
Heart seemed quite amused.
Rokar waved what was left of his arms in the air. Both had been
dissolved from the elbow down, leaving nothing but bones,
ligaments, and tendons.
“Be more careful, you...ruffian!” Archbishop Phell shouted. The
priest panted heavily from the constant stream of healing the battle
had required of him. Grabbing a half-filled vial of magic potion, he
quaffed its entire contents.
 His next prayer seemed to be one of invulnerability, as the
barbarian now absorbed a multitude of hard strikes from King
Slime’s writhing tentacles without harm.
“Careful, imbecile! It will only last ten sec —” the priest shouted.
He paused mid-sentence as the musclebound warrior dove headfirst
into the central mass of the slime monster. Seemingly at a loss for
words, the priest stood there with his mouth agape.
“Did he just...” Gharex asked as she knocked away several
smaller slimes before ducking beneath a tentacle that smacked into
the wall hard enough to leave a small crack in the stone.
“Prepare to retreat!” Archbishop Phell shouted as he desperately
looked at the path behind them.
“But I’ve almost —” Yuloriony Hu said as she directed the ever-
growing water funnel toward a small group of slimes.
In a spray of dark, viscous mucous, Rokar erupted from deep
within King Slime, his club held firmly in his teeth. His wild eyes
looked to the priest, who uttered a powerful spell of healing that
regenerated the wild warrior’s missing arms.
Rokar snatched the club from his clenched mouth and whirled on
the giant slime monster, pounding it with renewed vigor. “For
Negath!”
“It’s ready!” Yuloriony Hu said as she pushed the towering
waterspout toward the embattled King Slime. The tip of the funnel
touched the top of the bubbling giant, slowly lowering itself down into
his mass. The glowing, golden spout instantly became mixed with
darkness, as if the light and dark battled inside for domination.
“It’s fighting...it...” the water walker said as she struggled to
maintain her control.
“It’s weakening! Pour everything you have into your attacks!”
Archbishop Phell said as he cast a final group heal.
Rokar and Gharex redoubled their attacks in an effort to keep the
monstrous mass from being able to hold itself together. The funnel
drilled farther down into King Slime, until the beast suddenly doubled
in size, shuddering as if it were a bubble ready to burst. As the last
gasp of life left it, the bubble deflated with a splat.
 The smaller slimes likewise fell lifeless. The ones closest to the
river dissolved into the foul, dark waters.
“Again, they snatch victory from defeat,” Mistress Bitter said.
“I loathe to admit it, but that was a magnificent display of
teamwork and strategy,” Yaug said.
“Yes, if only we had such luck and effort with our minions,” I
replied. With King Slime defeated, only the jester remained before
they would defile our current floor. “They will need to rest for at least
eight hours after that exertion. Even with potions, the priest will need
to recuperate. Where is the other intruder?”
“He has finished cleansing the last ghouls from Helatha’s level.
He’s just entered the church,” Zarah said.
Asp enlarged her image. The knight stood motionless in the
frame of the church’s doors. “Why has he stopped?”
The mysterious intruder slowly looked over the room, as if looking
for something. Was he searching for Helatha? It seemed he could
sense magic even without uttering the necessary spells. If so, it was
almost certain he’d discover her behind the hidden door which led to
the second path to the next level.
“Perhaps he’s resting?” Zarah suggested.
Yaug pointed a skeletal finger toward the knight’s helm. “No,
look.”
A red mist flowed forth from his visor, gathering among the
wooden beams of the high ceiling. Over the next five minutes, angry
red clouds formed and floated menacingly before a steady red
drizzle began to fall. Each spot touched by the droplets began to
decay and rot away, as if eaten away by time and insects. The pews,
carpet, stage, bibles, drapery, and sconces all dissolved rapidly.
Wood or metal — it made little difference to the rain of decay.
Only the stranger stood unaffected, the red deluge sliding
harmlessly off a magical barrier around him, never touching his
immaculate armor.
“No! Stop it!” a familiar voice shouted from behind the stage.
Helatha burst out from behind the ragged curtain, her face twisted in
a mix of anger and fear. “You’re destroying it all!”
 The stranger stood motionless as the priestess of Castigous first
hurled a black bolt of energy at him, then summoned forth several
buried ghouls from the floor of the church. They crawled toward the
warrior, their flesh and armor dissolving rapidly. Just as they reached
him, they collapsed.
“Castigous, take your soul!” Helatha shouted as she cast her own
evil prayers of decay and suffering at the stranger. To her credit, the
combination actually seemed to stagger the knight for a moment.
Yet, the priestess herself suffered much more.
Her beautiful dark hair began to fall out in clumps as red divots
appeared in her ebony white skin. Her black and red robes rotted
away. She shrieked in agony as she fell to her knees, unleashing a
life draining spell upon the stranger that partially restored her for a
moment, but the unrelenting rain rotted her away faster than she
could heal.
Meanwhile, the knight seemed to have fully recovered from her
attacks, as if a high-level healer or magic user had removed
Helatha’s curses, dark spells, and prayers.
“Castigous...” Helatha whispered before she collapsed to the
ground, reduced to a state usually reserved for her undead minions.
Soon, nothing but bits of soggy skin, robes, and brittle bones
remained of the powerful priestess.
“The knight rips through your minions like wet parchment,”
Mistress Bitter said. Her usual tone of amusement had changed to
one of concern. “Mine would not have fared any better. This being is
stronger than any of us. Perhaps stronger than all of us combined.”
I wanted to argue, but she spoke the truth. Looking to Zarah, I
could see she was attempting to hold in the anguish she felt from the
destruction of the church.
She turned and caught my gaze, smiling weakly. “It’s nothing.”
I was failing her — just as I’d failed my city, my advisors, and my
country. I was going to lose everything I’d built over the past year
and odd months in less than in a week. Staring at the inscrutable
knight, I wondered how such a being had come into existence. He
seemed absolutely indestructible. It would take multiple lifetimes to
learn the schools of magic he’d used with casual ease. In fact, it
seemed he needed no hand signs or verbal — “Wait, what is that?
Get closer to his helm.”
The picture grew larger as the perspective zoomed closer to the
knight.
“Move up to his head.”
Slowly, the magical display crawled upward, over the knight’s
immaculate armor section by section until it rested on his perfect
white-and-gold helm. “Closer...now lower.”
“I shall try, Master,” Asp said as the image grew slightly.
“Look — there!” I said as I pointed to a spot at the top of his
tabard. There, on the impeccably clean tabard of Uxper, rested a
single drop of red.
“See? He is human. Helatha hurt him. If he bleeds, he can die.
Ready yourself for combat, Yaug.” I looked to Zarah, who seemed
surprised by my renewed zeal. “I will not let my dungeon fall this
day.”
 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Crumbling

T
he group broke down for camp on the next level, just as I’d
predicted. Magic could heal wounds and regrow lost limbs, but
the pain still took a toll on their bodies. Casting prayers and spells in
rapid succession would have also affected them, exhausting not just
their magical reserves but their physical stamina and mental
wellbeing.
“You should sleep as well,” Zarah said.
The white knight hadn’t moved since destroying the church. Was
he not human? Despite my analysis of the group on the lower levels,
the man had not rested or taken sustenance since entering the
dungeon. It was unfathomable he was still on his feet after the high-
level spells and prayers he’d used. Yet, he hadn’t budged in close to
an hour. Perhaps he slept standing?
“Yes, I think I will,” I said as I mentally ordered the jimps to
remove my armor. Several more brought food for our ensemble.
Yaug waved it away, but I ate and drank heartily while Mistress Bitter
delicately selected only the most ripe and perfect food and wine.
“You’re not going to return to the Nosteran Dungeon?” I asked.
“For good or ill, your fate and mine are inextricably linked. I
believe if you should die...so shall I. This play is coming to its
conclusion, and I will not face my fate fearfully hiding far off.
Besides...you need my expertise.”
“Yes, you’ve been of great help so far,” Zarah said.
Mistress Bitter’s smile faded slightly. “Such an insolent Dungeon
Heart. You’ve been allowed too much freedom, my darling.
Regardless...I’m without my own minions. I’ve spent hundreds of
years building my armies instead of myself. If we were within my own
dungeon, I would be able to offer considerable power to use against
these intruders.”
“Enough to make a difference?” Zarah asked.
 The insect queen looked thoughtful for a moment. “Perhaps.
Perhaps not. In this late hour, such a question is without merit. What
matters now is what our dear master does next.”
With the weight of my armor removed, I cast one last glance at
the images laid out before us. “For now, I will rest. It will come down
to our power versus theirs. Even a fraction of magic may make the
difference in the final battle.”
Returning to my chamber, Zarah joined me once again. To my
surprise, Asp materialized in the room as I showered.
“With your permission, Master,” she said with a bow.
“You have something to report?”
“I...merely thought you could use a...distraction from your
concerns. I frequently dance for my mistress when her problems
overwhelm her. It can have a calming effect.”
I looked to Zarah.
“Why not?” Zarah answered as a dulcimer materialized in the air
before her, along with two delicate spoon-like hammers. She lightly
struck the strings and looked to Asp, who’d begun to sway to the
melody.
“Do you know ‘End of the Titans’?” Asp asked.
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I didn’t know that one,” Zarah said
with a smile. The slow tune changed abruptly, becoming harsher and
faster. Asp gracefully kept pace exactly with Zarah’s melody.
Finishing the shower, I dressed in my robes and sat at the desk,
turning the chair around to watch the duo’s performance. A jimp
brought a decanter of wine and a delicate gold-lined glass and left
the room, oblivious to the performance taking place in the air above
him.
To an outside observer, it would have appeared as if the pair had
practiced the performance hundreds of times. They remained in sync
as the song slowed then sped up, then stopped before resuming
again. It was a beautiful display of two experts at their crafts
synchronizing at a level most would never achieve. As the
performance wound on, I felt my concerns fade away. My body felt
lighter as the spirited music and visual beauty of Asp’s lithe body
leaping and swerving through the air caressed my spirit.
 In our world of brute violence and torture, such moments of
artistry and elegance were rare. My mind drifted away, diffusing into
the universe. Nothing remained of me as I was consumed by the
spectacle. Consciousness faded before the song completed.

I AWOKE WITH A START, ensconced deep within my luxurious

blankets and bed. I wondered who had moved me from the chair.
The image of Zarah and Asp carrying me through the air popped into
my mind, causing me to chuckle mentally.
“Master.”
I turned to see Shalla standing to my right. She bowed her head
and waited for my response.
“Has something happened?” I asked.
“Yes.”
Fearing the worst, I teleported directly to Carine’s bedside, such
as it was. She sat up, with her back propped up with a sack of meal.
Upon my appearance, she dropped the small bowl she’d been
sipping from.
“By Zoustero, warn a body before just...appearing!” she said as
she coughed and sputtered.
I patiently waited until she’d recovered. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I was stabbed in the back, poisoned, cut open and probed
and prodded. Other than that, I’m dandy. Oh, and my arm is gone.
I’m a little upset about that,” she said as she waved her bandaged
stump about.
“I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I never should have involved you in
such matters. Now you, Kurth, Lorena...they’ve all suffered for my
hubris. You could have easily died.”
“That is still a distinct possibility, Master,” Tollo said as he walked
into the room.
“What do you mean, torturer?”
“Notice her skin color and eyes. I am not sure the replacement
organs are functioning as they should. She may yet not survive the
ordeal.”
“What of the healing spells and potions?”
“If she lives the next eight hours, they should prove effective.
There are still traces of the poison in her surviving tissues.”
Toxin appeared out of the shadows. “But it is being slowly
neutralized.”
“Yes - yes! The rogue’s antidote is slowly working, but it is
working. We will know over the coming hours.”
“I feel so much better about my chances after listening to you
guys...” Carine said. “What did you just say about replacement
organs?”
I pulled Tollo to the side, out of range of the patient. “What about
resurrection? Do you believe a goblin shaman’s spell could revive
her if she passes?”
He scratched the bottom of the spider’s head that made up his
chin. “Hm, perhaps. It depends on if the poison is fully neutralized
and the power of the spell. The fact that we’ve replaced some
organs with living organisms may also complicate the resurrection.
You’d essentially have to bring several organisms back to life
simultaneously.”
“I feel like that is information you should have relayed sooner,
insect,” I growled.
“I-I’m sorry, Master. I’ve been preoccupied with saving her. There
have been complications upon complications.”
“If it should happen again, the latest batch of antitoxin I’ve
developed will prove much more effective for future encounters. I’m
sorry I was unable to create it quickly enough to save the gnome,”
Toxin said.
“Tollo states she may yet pull through,” I whispered.
The rogue looked at Carine and shrugged. “I suppose hope is
important.”
“What are you guys talking about...over there?” Carine shouted.
She went into a severe coughing fit, pulling a dead maggot from her
mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick...sicker...”
“What if I had access to a powerful healer of Uxper?” I asked.
“Would he be able to cure or resurrect her?”
 Tollo nodded. “They are renowned for their healing prowess. If
there is a magical solution to the problem, I believe that would work.”
Moving to her makeshift bed, I took her hand in mine. “We’ve
done all we can, but we may have only bought you a little more
time.”
“Are you...are you saying I’m going to die?”
“No. I’m saying...I’m going to do everything in my power to
prevent that. Just rest for now.”
Carine grew quiet. “I always thought I’d die fighting a legendary
beast in a cursed castle or diabolical dungeon. Not — not like this.”
She stared down at what was left of her arm.
“Don’t give up. I won’t. We’ve been through a lot together, and I
intend on that continuing.”
She smiled and turned her attention to me. “Say, is there
something you aren’t telling me? I feel like something else is going
on...”
“The dungeon is under heavy assault and has been for days. I’m
not sure I can defeat the two groups that are approaching the Soul
Sphere.”
“Jagen! You should have told me. I can —” she said as she tried
to lean up. Wincing in pain, she collapsed back. “Well, I’m sure I can
do something.”
“Our most powerful minions have been defeated. I don’t think
there’s much an injured gnome engineer can do.”
“Have you ever heard the tale of the gnome and the giant? There
was a contest to move a” — she paused to catch her breath — “giant
stone that was blocking the stream to a town. The giant—” She
began coughing in earnest.
Patting her shoulder, I nodded. “Every child has heard that story.
The giant heaved and strained but couldn’t move it, but the gnome
built a gargantuan lever and dislodged the stone. Real life isn’t quite
like fairy tales. I have to get back to the dungeon. Rest and conserve
your energy.”
“The lesson is knowledge often triumphs over raw strength.
Perhaps you need” — cough — “an outside viewpoint.”
 “Even if I were to allow it, there is no way to move you to the
dungeon from here. The lands swarm with enemies. We’ll be
fortunate if they don’t attack this one. If you were a minion, I could
transport you directly.”
“Master, if I may...the gnome has been suffused with nutrient
mixtures composed from minions and has had several organs
patched or replaced by creatures of the dungeon. This, added to the
fact she’s been bathed in goblin healing magics for days and was
already partially attuned to the dungeon, may be enough to allow her
movement between the dungeons,” Tollo said.
“Aye, you won’t know if you don’t — what did you just say about
my food and organs?” Carine said as she lifted up her shirt and
inspected the long incision across her abdomen.
“And if you are wrong?” I asked.
“It will either work or it will not...I believe.”
I thought of the coming battle. If we failed, would Carine’s
condition deteriorate as the dungeon slowly faded? Would she die
alone and afraid, unaware of what was happening to her? “You wish
to risk it?”
“I am if you are,” she answered.
“Fine. Lie back, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. The
instant movement can be disorienting.”
Pulling from the magic of Yaug’s small Soul Sphere, I transported
Carine’s bed, Tollo, Toxin, and myself to the throne room. Carine’s
bed materialized to the right of Yaug’s throne.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I —” Carine said before leaning over the side and vomiting on
the floor.
Tollo began inspecting his patient. “It seems it was a success. I’ll
have Shalla bring over the equipment I’ll need.”
Carine wiped her mouth with her blanket. “Sorry.”
A gloob already inched its way toward the mess she’d made. “It’s
nothing.” I noticed Mistress Bitter’s throne was empty.
“She retired several hours ago. I’ve been keeping watch. There
has been no movement from either enemy,” Yaug said.
 “This is the group on the level before this one. It consists of a
barbarian, a flame warden, a water walker and an archbishop of
Uxper. This is the intruder on the church level. He’s shown himself to
be nigh impervious to harm and adept at nearly all schools of magic
as well as with prayers associated with worshipers of Uxper. He
seems intent on destroying not just the minions, but the dungeon
itself.”
“Your magic is running low, too,” Carine said.
“Yes, it will most likely come down to a direct conflict between the
group and the dragonlich, Yaug, myself, and Toxin. I consider our
power greater in that match up. If we are able to defeat them without
suffering any casualties, I may be able to replenish our magical
reserves enough to present a threat to the lone knight...and I will
attempt to force the priest to heal you.”
The gnome squinted, analyzing the image of the knight. “Does he
use potions to maintain his magic reserves? How can he use so
many spells at once? The bulky armor isn’t an impediment to
drawing sigils or hand signs?”
“I’ve not seen him use either method to cast his spells. He must
speak them all, which seems impossible. His magical reserves seem
fathomless.”
“I’m no magic user, but those facts seem to break the rules of
magic, don’t they?” Carine asked as she looked first to Yaug, then to
me.
“Yes, of course. While there are several ways to cast spells, it is
usually a combination of drawing sigils, speaking the spells, or
enacting the spells through finger movements. Of course, wands and
other implements are not limited to this as they are charged with a
predetermined number of spell casts. As one becomes more adept
and powerful, the need for extraneous movements is eliminated.
That must mean this man is a master on a level unheard of,” Yaug
said.
“Or he’s something you haven’t seen before. Science teaches
that a hypothesis or theory can change as new knowledge
is...gained,” Carine said excitedly before falling into another
coughing fit. This time when she wiped her mouth with her blanket, it
came away spotted with blood. She looked at me with alarm.
“Sit back. We will handle the intruders,” I said.
“Will you?” Mistress Bitter said as she emerged from her
chamber. Her regal gowns and dozens of pieces of fine jewelry had
been replaced with something that looked to be more suited for
battle. The black-and-green tight-fitting set of armor appeared to be
crafted from the carapaces of various giant insect species. It seemed
impossible that it should hug her sensuous frame so closely. I had no
doubt it was likely tougher than any leather armor.
“I stated that Yaug and I would attempt to fight the invaders,” I
said.
“I have no intention of upsetting your little plan. Yet, if the
intruders persist, I will not be found wanting and vulnerable,” the
insect queen stated as she ascended the stairs and sat upon her
throne. “Why is there a damaged gnome in the throne room?”
I wondered that myself. While I was grateful to have Carine close
by, she would possibly be in harm’s way. Was she aware of the
ramifications of being able to be moved between dungeons? I
wondered if it was too late for her to leave, and she was now
inextricably bound to the dungeon just as any minion.
“Master, the group is packing their camp,” Asp said.
I pondered letting Toxin loose on the previous level. While Ral
Davil would likely be able to delay the group, perhaps for hours, he
was not a true warrior. If Toxin could use the chaos sowed by the
jester, perhaps he could maim or capture the priest. Yet I knew from
experience the spectral comedian would treat Toxin as just another
toy in his small realm, perhaps delivering him up to the group on a
silver platter — possibly literally. No, it was best if Toxin helped form
the final defense. He’d be less powerful than he would be on his
home level, but he’d still make a formidable opponent.
If we were all going to survive — including Carine — we needed
to eliminate the final group, capture the priest, and refill the
dungeon’s magic stores before the dreaded knight arrived.
“Here they come,” Zarah said as the group exited the door to the
jester’s level.
 As we watched the group prepare to move out, I noticed Shalla
kneeling beside Carine’s bed, taking notes as Carine pointed toward
Asp’s image of the white knight.
Even if she had been in full health, I doubted there was much the
engineer could have done against such powerful enemies, but it felt
strangely comforting to be in her presence. In this uncanny
menagerie of undead wizards, insect queens, bone dragons, and our
Dungeon Hearts, Carine was like a small thread connecting me to
my remaining humanity.
She went into a coughing fit, gasping for breath when it had
subsided. She was getting worse.
 CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Power of Laughter

G
harex stopped to admire a large portrait of a picturesque farm
nestled in the countryside. A variety of farm animals lounged
about as the farmer and his wife watched over them. “Lovely portrait.
The brushwork and texturing are marvelous. I’m not familiar with the
artist, however.”
“Where is the fight?” Rokar shouted before smashing the picture
to pieces. He yelled into the air, “Show yourself, ghost!”
“You uncouth philistine! Must you destroy everything of beauty?”
“Yes!” Rokar shouted as he smacked his club against a
decorative sconce.
“Hold — what is that?” Gharex asked. “There’s something on
your back, barbarian.”
“What? I feel nothing, lizard,” Rokar said as he tried to look over
his shoulder. “Some bug?”
Gharex squatted down and ignited a flame in her palm for more
light. “No, it appears to be a tail. A jackass’s tail, to be exact.”
Rokar reached around his back and grabbed the long, furry, gray
tail. “What is this? Some joke?”
The sound of cackling laughter echoed faintly in the distance.
“Recall, the phantom on this level will seek to annoy us, but his
pranks are mostly harmless and will fade in time,” Archbishop Phell
said as he waved his staff’s lantern about, as if trying to repel the
unseen prankster.
Rokar jerked hard at the tail. “It hurts! This is real! Remove it!”
The priest opened his bible, began reading passages, and closed
his eyes, waving his hand over the new addition to the barbarian’s
rear end. His lantern flared as he came to the end of his prayer, but
he stuttered on the last phrase.
“There seems to be...ah...something on your face,” Gharex said
as she pointed toward the priest’s mouth.
 “What...ak!” Archbishop Phell said as his lips swelled and
extended, forming a yellow beak. He frantically felt along the new
facial feature, opening and closing it as he tried to speak. “Awk!
Bwawk!”
Gharex pointed to the side of Yuloriony Hu’s head. “And you as
well.”
“Is it — no!” the water walker exclaimed as she felt the horns
growing out from the side of her head. Even her armor had adapted
to her new attributes.
“This is most” — snort — “alarming,” Gharex said. Her eyes
widened as she snorted several more times. She touched her new
pig’s snout gingerly before her eyes grew wide. “No!”
The phantom laughter grew louder, as if the jester could no
longer contain his mirth. Archbishop Phell again raised his staff, the
lantern growing brighter. The laughter faded away.
“What is happening to us?” Yuloriony Hu asked. The priest could
only cluck in response.
“Without being able to speak his prayers and wards, we are at a
severe disadvantage,” Gharex said.
“Get this thing off of me! Rahhhh!” Rokar shouted as he
unleashed a war cry that cracked a nearby mirror.
“We’ll have to continue on and find the exit to end this,” Gharex
said.
“What if we simply went back —” Yuloriony Hu said as she turned
toward the door they’d just come through. It was gone. They
continued down the hall, searching each bedroom for the key or
clues to its whereabouts.
“This minion is unlike any I’ve seen before. He casts no spells,
but apparently has the ability to warp reality to some degree,”
Mistress Bitter said.
“I’ve attempted to study him myself, but he is...rather difficult to
pin down,” Yaug said.
“I believe he turned your head into a pumpkin the last time you
tried,” Zarah said with a smile.
“Er, yes. Most fascinating...and disturbing,” Yaug said as he
gently patted his skull as if to reassure himself it was still normal.
 “Why not simply make their blood boil or explode? Why does he
toy with them?”
“He has never killed anyone to my knowledge. Ral Davil is more
like a sentient trap than a destructive force. He delights in humiliating
his visitors and entertaining himself through their trials,” I said.
“An extreme waste of power. You should properly train him to do
your bidding. You are the master, he is the servant,” Mistress Bitter
said with distaste.
“I believe his power is linked to his free will and imagination. He’s
spent hundreds of years trapped on that level, making his own reality
to entertain himself. If I were to break him, he would most likely lose
his unusual abilities.”
“He’s insane,” Asp said. “A liability.”
“He is indeed warped beyond measure. I do not know if that
occurred due to his entrapment in the dungeon, or if he was like that
in life. Either way, he’s currently all that stands between us and our
enemies,” I said.
“Look, the knight moves!” Yaug said.
The powerful warrior indeed moved through the dust of the
church toward the exposed secret hatch, as everything in the room
had rotted away to dust. Climbing over the edge, he leapt into the
darkness, falling a distance that would have broken every bone in a
normal man’s body. Instead, he smashed to the ground with a clang,
one knee down and one fist down, before he stood and moved out
into the maze-like tunnels of the arbolisk level.
“Look at his path. It’s as if he knows the shortest route to the
forest,” Zarah said.
As he passed tunnel sections and forks, the lone intruder made
sure to unleash powerful magical attacks such as exploding fireballs,
concussive bursts, rock spikes, minor earthquakes, and anything
else that would collapse the tunnels that branched off.
It was devastating to watch the destruction of everything we’d
built and maintained. Would it have any permanent effect on Zarah?
I thought of challenging the white knight on my own. Perhaps if I
attacked after his rampage on the arbolisk level, he’d be too
exhausted to defend himself properly.
 “I can tell you are considering attacking him. It would be foolish.
We have no idea of what that being is capable of,” Mistress Bitter
said.
“Being? You don’t believe he’s human?”
“If he is, he’s unlike any I’ve seen before. It’s like his sole purpose
is to destroy the dungeon, and he came equipped for that.”
“Even if the Soul Sphere was filled, I couldn’t undo this much
damage,” I said.
“No, I expect not. I fear this may be the end of your dungeon,
Master,” she answered. There seemed to be some genuine
sympathy in her tone.
“As long as we all yet live, there is hope. Everything has a
weakness. Not even the titans of lore were unstoppable,” I said.
Despite my boast, my confidence fell as the intruder destroyed
everything in his path for over an hour.
“Jagen,” Zarah said as she pointed at her image of the group on
the level above.
The group was now in the cavernous ballroom, except it had
been transformed into a makeshift maze made up of walls of giant
silverware. The maze ended in the door to the lower level. The
prankster, Ral Davil, sat atop a chandelier high above the room,
watching as the hapless group below navigated through the
frustrating paths. He held both hands over his mouth, attempting to
stifle his laughter.
Archbishop Phell now walked on the legs of a chicken, and his
head was now entirely that of the bird. Rokar’s head and arms were
those of a donkey, and he retained his tail from previously. Gharex
was considerably more rotund than usual, and now possessed a
curled tail to go with her pig’s snout. Yuloriony Hu’s stomach bulged
under her armor, indicating she most likely possessed an udder to go
with her new tail and horns.
“This is utterly maddening!” Gharex said as they rounded a
corner to find another dead end. She looked down at the water
walker’s protruding abdomen. “Sorry.”
“You said this was...hee-haw...the way out!” Rokar shouted.
“I said I believe this...snort...is the way out,” Gharex said.
 “You stupid...hee-haw!” Rokar said as he doubled over.
“What’s...happening to...hee-haw!” The barbarian’s form shimmered
and wobbled before settling into that of a full donkey. “Hee-haw!” the
donkey brayed indignantly.
“Oh...my,” Gharex said.
Archbishop Phell could only cluck in response but pointed back
the way they’d come.
“Do you think he can understand us? Did his mind become that of
a beast as well?” Yuloriony Hu asked as she stepped away from the
incessantly braying farm animal, who was now bucking and kicking,
slamming his rear hooves into the giant silverware that made up the
walls of the maze.
“I’d say either way he’s about as smart as he was before he was
an ass,” Gharex said as the group backtracked from the direction
they’d already come. Eventually, Rokar relented and followed them.
The phantom jester’s laughter echoed throughout the hall. “He
made an ass of himself!”
“If only the jester’s power was permanent,” Mistress Bitter said.
I nodded. “I’ve never seen him use this much power before.
Maintaining the maze while at the same time doing the same for the
transformations. It seems he’s grown in power along with the
dungeon. Perhaps at some point he would be strong enough to hold
intruders indefinitely under his enchantments.”
“Regardless, if his temporary magic is deadly or not, it still takes
a mental and physical toll on the adventurers. They use their magic
and physical resources through the puzzles and trials he puts them
through and become unnerved from the madness and uncertainty.
One is not likely to forget the humiliation of spending time as a farm
animal,” Yaug said. “Such fascinating magic — I have never seen its
like. It is almost as if he simply uses his unstable mind and
imagination to reorder the floor and its contents to suit his whims. It
doesn’t follow any of the regular norms of magic we’ve learned over
the centuries.”
“Bah! If he could use it to slay them, that would be useful. So
much power to be wasted on a decapitated idiot,” Mistress Bitter
said.
 I was less concerned about the jester’s maze games and more
concerned about the mysterious knight. He now stood atop the rim of
the cavern, surveying the gargantuan forest and lake below him. It
did not take long for the forest to feel his wrath. The first fireball was
larger than any I’d seen before — easily the size of a house. It
exploded near the center of the humanoid trees, flattening a score of
them and igniting those nearby.
Zarah gasped. “By Castigous...I can hear their screams. I feel
their pain.”
The knight laid waste to the entire forest. Columns and walls of
fire, fire blasts, lances of flame, and rolling balls of molten fury soon
created a raging inferno that filled the paradise with smoke. At last
satisfied, he descended into the very flames themselves, seemingly
unharmed and unconcerned by the heat and smothering smoke.
Once the arbolisk den came into view, he paused and looked
about, finally turning toward the lake.
“He wouldn’t...he can’t,” Zarah whispered.
As if reading her mind, two spiraling, complex glowing patterns
appeared before the knight, glowing brighter and brighter until they
unleashed twin beams of pure heat into the lake. The area struck by
the powerful rays instantly bubbled and steamed. After five minutes,
the entire lake began to evaporate and churn. Fish bobbed to the
surface, cooked alive.
Zarah floated down and knelt beside my throne, tears welling up
in her eyes. She took my hand in hers. “He’s killing them.”
Once the entire lake had become a cauldron of steaming death,
the disintegration beams ceased, and the diagrams faded. The
knight stood still, only his head slowly turning as he looked for signs
of success. Finally, the three corpses of the arbolisks floated to the
surface.
“Such a pity...they were —” Mistress Bitter began to say before I
interrupted her.
“Do not speak.” I knelt beside Zarah and cradled her head
against my chest. “There’s still a chance to bring them back.”
“I don’t know why I became so attached to them. They’re just
overgrown lizards. I never should have used Raed’s name.”
 “We’ll fix this,” I said as I stared at the armored intruder. Satisfied
at the destruction he’d wrought, he traveled through the doorway
down.
“By the gods...I’ve never seen such destructive power,” Carine
said. “I can see why you were worried. An entire cart of fel powder
couldn’t cause such damage. How is he still standing after exerting
that much effort into his spells?”
“That is a very good question. If nothing else, he should have
drunk several gallons of magic potions by now. No living being could
cast that many spells in such rapid succession without exhausting
themselves. Even a high-level wizard from the Academy would have
died by this point,” Yaug said.
“It’s like he’s magic personified, focused to its utmost point,”
Carine said.
Zarah stood. “He hasn’t even had to draw his sword.”
“We should begin evacuation. We may have just enough magic
left to transport the three masters, the Hearts, some of our
possessions, and a small chest of treasure to my dungeon,” Mistress
Bitter said.
“And of course, also Carine, Tollo, and Toxin,” I said.
She shrugged. “If you leave the treasure behind. Personally, I’d
choose that.”
“Mistress!” Tollo protested.
“Oh, shut up, you sniveling worm,” she snapped.
I loathed to admit it, but it was becoming increasingly clear that
we wouldn’t be able to stand against the new intruder, even if we did
defeat the group before he arrived. I turned my attention back to the
jester’s level.
Gharex and Yuloriony Hu now led the donkey and a nearly full
chicken toward the end of the maze. Each had received several
more animal parts but were undeterred by their predicament.
Ral Davil appeared in the air high above them, looking at them
each in turn. “I’m going to have to change my profession to farmer if
this keeps up!”
The cap on Yuloriony Hu’s barrel popped off as a whip of water
cracked directly toward the jester. He disappeared, only to reappear
behind the group.
“Look, I haven’t bathed in over three hundred years, and I’m not
about to start now!” the phantom comedian said. “That was rude!” He
snapped his fingers.
“Why yoooooo,” Yuloriony Hu said before her speech changed
completely into mooing. She covered her mouth, a look of
embarrassment on her face.
“Well, you’ve come to the end of the line, and it’s been a lot of
fun. There’s just one more thing — answer my riddle and you’ll get
the key and can leave. Answer wrong and...well, maybe we’ll see if I
can keep you this way for...hm...ever,” the floating jester said with a
wicked gleam in his eye.
“You’ve taken away my companions’ speech. How can they
answer a riddle?” Gharex asked.
“That’s a good point. I guess you’d better hope you’re good at
riddles!” Ral said as he burst into a fit of laughter. “At least better
than I am at understanding braying and clucking!” The silver platter
his head rested on floated away as his body doubled over, holding its
sides as he laughed himself into a tizzy.
“Fine. Tell me your” — snort — “riddle so we can be free from this
torture.”
Once the jester had collected himself, his head floated back
down into his waiting hands. He wiped the tears from his eyes. “I
begin life, I sustain life, but too much of me will end your life. What
am I?” He smiled slyly as he watched the scalax’s reaction.
Without pausing, Gharex answered, “Water.”
The jester’s smile turned to a look of shock. “What? WHAT? You
were supposed to think about it...agonize about it...you...you sow!”
He snapped his fingers.
Gharex stood defiant as nothing happened. “I’ve answered your
riddle. If that’s what passes for a riddle by your definition, I can see
why they removed your head.” Instead of transforming into a pig, she
returned to normal with a pop.
“Hah! Fooled ya!” Ral shouted. His anger instantly turned again
to mirth.
 The rest of the group regained their normal forms and checked
themselves over. The maze transformed back into the ballroom, lit by
low-burning candles and a fire in the hearth.
“I’m going to send you to Negath!” Rokar roared as he leapt into
the air, bringing his club down where the jester had been a split
second earlier.
Ral’s voice echoed throughout the chamber. “It’s been fun, ladies
and lords, but my show is done. Please make your way to the exit in
an orderly manner. No refunds!”
 CHAPTER TWENTY
Denied

T
he undead dragon whirled on me, its wings rising to nearly
scrape the top of the smooth, black-stoned ceiling. It opened its
mouth to roar, but I cast it a single glance and mentally commanded,
“Silence.” Cowed, it tucked its bony wings against its body and
lowered its head.
“While their ordeal with Ral likely taxed them mentally, they will
be healthy and well-rested. Once they enter this chamber, I’ll
unleash the dragonlich. As they deal with his attacks, Yaug and
Toxin will attack the priest. I’ll keep the flame warden and water
walker occupied. Despite their success so far, we possess greater
power than they do. Be wary of any tricks. They have surely
prepared for this battle.”
Yaug ran his skeletal hands across the tail of the bone dragon. “A
magnificent construct. I could not have crafted such a specimen.”
The dragon snorted and ignored the skeletal mage. If it
understood our words, it gave no indication. Only direct mental
commands and willpower influenced it.
“What should I do?” Zarah asked.
“Remain safely in the throne room,” I said. “All of the Hearts will
remain there.”
“You know I can fight!”
“Yes, but they may expect that. If you are attacked, I’ll be
weakened.”
“Fine, but if it looks bad, I’m coming out to help.”
“At that point, it will likely not matter,” Mistress Bitter said. “This
entire endeavor is a waste of time. We could be safely in my
dungeon right now.”
Ignoring her, I continued. “If the fight goes badly, retreat back to
the throne room. We’ll lock the doors and regroup.”
“Despite the lack of inclusion in your grand plan, allow me to
assist you,” Mistress Bitter said as she wove her hands through the
air, outlining a glowing green diagram.
Some of the designs and characters were alien, but many were
not. She was crafting sigils that would summon or create something.
Upon completion, the glowing circles separated into six and grew in
size. She directed them to strategic points around the room.
“It’s not much, but if anyone not connected to the dungeon steps
upon one, a swarm of lava wasps will engulf them. Perhaps they will
provide a distraction when you need it most,” the insect queen said.
In response, Yaug began casting a dark, necromantic spell. Six
skeletal warriors clawed their way up from the earth, seemingly
created from nothing. I recalled from our previous battle that his
personal skeleton warriors were quite a bit more powerful than the
ones employed in the jail.
Pulling the summoning stone from my bag, I whispered, “Setha.”
The felae ranger materialized and looked at the gathered forces
with surprise. “That bad, eh?”
“Critical. There’s a powerful group about to breach this floor. I
want you in the throne room protecting the Soul Sphere, Carine, and
the Dungeon Hearts. I’ve had too many bad experiences with rogues
in the past.”
She cast a derisive glance at Mistress Bitter. “As you command
— Master.” She bounded off through the throne room’s huge
doorway.
“I think she prefers you to me,” Mistress Bitter said. “I can’t say
that I blame her.”
“Remember: eliminate any members of the group except for the
priest. Incapacitate him and the rest will fall. I need him alive.”
“I’ve already loaded the appropriate poison, Master,” Toxin said.
“Zarah, where is the group?” I asked.
Mistress Bitter turned to leave. “And with that, I believe I’ll also
return to the safety of the throne room. Don’t do anything foolish,
such as dying.”
“I...you need to see this,” Zarah said. She pulled up an image of
the landing room on the current floor. The image wavered and flowed
as if we were witnessing the surface of a lake.
“What is that?”
 “I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t see inside of it. It’s like when
Bitter’s minions blocked my vision.”
“Most likely they are resting and planning and do not want us
privy to their conversation,” Yaug said.
Zarah pulled back the viewpoint into the hallway outside the
room. It appeared as if the room were filled with water, but visibility
was limited to the surface. Anything inside had been rendered
invisible.
“The water walker’s abilities are almost as versatile as they are
powerful,” Yaug said.
“Send a skeleton to test it.”
“At once, Master.”
One of the six skeletons sprinted across the wide-open floor, its
bony feet clacking in rapid succession. It was remarkably fast for an
undead. Yaug put the tips of his fingers against the side of his head.
“I see nothing so far. There are no traps or wards.” The minutes
ticked by until the skeleton’s footsteps drifted away. “I see it. The
doorway is blocked by a water barrier.”
“Attack it,” I ordered.
“I’ve reached it. Attacking it...” Yaug grew quiet.
“What happened?”
“It...burst. It was merely a bubble. The room is empty.”
“Zarah, Asp, Shalla...look through this level and the previous one.
Locate even the smallest thing that’s out of place. Toxin, search this
floor.”
After fifteen tense minutes, Zarah was the first to speak. “They’re
gone. We’ve seen nothing that indicates they were here.”
“I found this,” Toxin said as he tossed a small crystal to me.
“A message?” I asked as I held the yellow crystal up to one of my
orbs of light.
“Careful, it could be a trap. Allow me, Master,” Yaug said. The
undead mage cast several identification and probing spells. “It is as
you said — a simple messaging crystal. Shall I play it?”
I nodded.
He tapped the center of the rhombus-shaped crystal, releasing its
magic. A glowing cone of yellow light flowed from its center. A
projection of Archbishop Phell’s face floated in the middle.
“Greetings, Dungeon Master — or should I say Prince Therion?
As you can see, we’ve left your dungeon, but make no mistake, we
accomplished what we were hired to do. I wish I could be present
when the Dungeon Destroyer arrives to end your life, but the utter
destruction that is coming will be biblical in nature. My sister, the
heroes who have fallen before, and the innocents slaughtered in
New Vadis shall be avenged. Did you know they have taken to
calling you the ‘Villain of Vadis’ for what you’ve done? You will spend
eternity in Castigous’ realm for your sins while Uxper’s will shall
spread across Derode. Farewell, vile scum. Know the world will be
better when you are gone.”
Yaug clenched the crystal in his palm. “Master...”
I wanted to scream and lash out. They’d teleported out of the
dungeon while hidden inside the water walker’s bubble. After killing
my minions, wreaking havoc, and overcoming every obstacle, they’d
escaped unscathed. We’d been denied even the chance of
recovering any magic from their group, and it was now obvious their
goal had never been a confrontation with us. Yet — what had it
been? To merely open the doors for this “Dungeon Destroyer”? Why
had that been necessary?
“Everyone return to the throne room,” I said calmly. I’d unleash
my rage upon the intruder above.
“So, they escaped. Clever,” Mistress Bitter said.
“They left?” Carine asked. “I guess that’s at least some good
news. Now you just have to worry about this guy.” She pointed to the
armored knight who was in the midst of destroying the small throne
room on the felae level.
I’d almost forgotten — with the departure of the priest, there was
now no healer strong enough to completely cure or resurrect Carine.
“What are we going to do?” Zarah asked. Her forehead glistened
with sweat. The damage to the levels above seemed to be
cumulative as far as her pain was concerned.
“Perhaps we should meet this Dungeon Destroyer in an
opportune place. Despite his power, a well-laid trap could make a
difference,” Yaug suggested.
 I took a seat on my throne and walked back through what had
just happened. Each level defeated and each door opened. Then the
group fled before facing us. Why send them before the Destroyer?
The intruder had shown no emotion, no visible need to make
camp or even take care of normal bodily functions. Was it a golem of
some type? A powerful war machine, perhaps a relic of a distant
age? Was that the reason the party had opened the doors for him? If
so, what were his commands? Golems were limited to basic verbal
commands and actions. They either had to be given a specific
sequence of orders that couldn’t be misinterpreted, or their creator
had to be present to give them mental commands.
“Do you believe this is some sort of construct? An automaton? If
it is so simple minded, perhaps we could somehow —” I caught sight
of the message crystal in Yaug’s hand, and my rage returned.
Archbishop Phell’s words thundered in my ears. The Villain of Vadis?
This was what they now called me? Had they any idea of what I’d
sacrificed for them? My father, my family, Aiyla, my life...I’d given it
all to free them from the rule of their masters. The end of slavery, the
ban on the church, homes, jobs...it was all for their own benefit, yet
they’d attempted to lynch me in the street as if I were a
common...murderer.
Yet, I had murdered them. They were right to fear me. What was I
fighting for? To prove my ideals were superior to those of my
father’s? I thought of my trusted advisors, now reduced to lifeless
golden statues. How many had died because of me?
I jerked as Zarah touched my shoulder. “Jagen?”
For a split second, my rage flared at the interruption, but then I
looked into her eyes. Everyone in the room stared at me with
concern.
“I...merely became lost in thought.” Yet, I couldn’t shake the
feeling of defeat. We were now reduced to fighting for our own
survival against the powers of the world. My city was gone. My family
was gone. Now it seemed even my dungeon was soon to be lost.
“This being must have some weakness. Does anyone have any
thoughts?”
The room fell silent.
 “We...cough...know they needed the group to do something, but
what?” Carine asked.
“Obviously, they opened the door and cleared the way for the
Destroyer,” Asp answered.
“I’m not an expert on maintaining a dungeon, but couldn’t that
guy just bust down your doors?”
“He could, but even with the sabotaged doors and the faded
enchantments, it would have taken tremendous magic and time to do
so. Even the floors and ceilings of the dungeon are reinforced with
the magic and life essence of the victims of the dungeon, simply to
prevent intruders from tunneling between levels,” Mistress Bitter
explained.
“Is he so dumb he can’t figure out the keys and puzzles?” Carine
continued.
“Or he may be a construct, like the Master has suggested,” Yaug
said.
“I’ve seen many golems and other constructs in my long life.
They are rigid and cumbersome. Despite this being’s single-minded
goal, he moves like a living man. A warrior, even,” Mistress Bitter
said.
“Perhaps we should just ask him to go away?” Carine suggested.
“Are you daft? Why would he —” Mistress Bitter began to say.
“She may be on to something. He seems impervious to harm,
and he possesses almost unlimited magic, but inside of that armor
there may be a man who can be reasoned with. Perhaps we can
discern a mental flaw or vulnerability,” I said.
“Ah, like the stinger that drives between the links in the carapace
and finds the tender meat inside,” Mistress Bitter said.
Carine coughed several times. “I really don’t want to hear
anything about bugs.”
“Zarah, project my image to the Destroyer. Let’s see if we can
find a flaw in his metal.”
She nodded. “He can see you, and you alone.”
“Stranger, hold. I am King — I am Jagen Therion. Cease this
senseless destruction.”
 The knight paused in the long hall that ran to the first Dire Hall.
Looking up at my glowing image, he cocked his head to the side, but
said nothing.
“You’ve come here to eliminate me and my dungeon. I make you
a counterproposal — I will give you more wealth than you can spend
in a hundred lifetimes, and you will leave me in peace.”
The knight showed no reaction to my offer.
“Those who you work for are the true evil in the world. Slavery,
imprisonment, wars, inequality...I merely wished to stop them.”
He remained motionless.
“I think you’re starting to get to him,” Zarah whispered.
“Answer me, warrior. This bloodshed doesn’t have to continue.
Who do you work for? What is your name?”
At last, he raised a single hand, palm up. A light flared, and
Zarah’s illusion exploded.
“I think he said no,” Mistress Bitter said. “Should we begin the
evacuation?”
After quiet contemplation, I answered. “No. I will face him alone.”
 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Juggernaut of Destruction

Z
arah seemed somewhat upset. Her nostrils flared, and her
petite fists rested on her waist. The fact that she blocked my
path was a symbolic gesture, as I could teleport anywhere in the
dungeon on a whim.
“There were two plans. Teaming up to fight and evacuation.
When did throwing your life away become an option?” she asked.
“If you face him now, you’ll be far from your throne, the Soul
Sphere, and not as powerful as you would be if you waited for him to
attack here,” Mistress Bitter said. “I agree with the Dungeon Heart.”
“If I wait until he is here, it will be too late,” I said as I checked
over my gear. “I don’t intend on attacking him in the open. Perhaps I
can discern some weakness or wear him down before he destroys
much more of the dungeon.”
“I’ve got to say: I agree with them, Jagen. It’s too risky. It will
cough take a few hours for him to get down here. Just wait until we
have a better plan,” Carine said. Tollo busied himself by checking her
over. I could tell he wasn’t happy with her condition.
“You should take me with you,” Toxin said plainly.
“Master, I believe if we continued to monitor the intruder, we —”
Yaug began to say before Toxin and I reappeared on the psuthals’
level.
“The time for talking is done. It’s time to test the mettle of this
Dungeon Destroyer,” I said. “This level provides cover and
shadows...perhaps more than any other. The plan is simple — I’ll
draw his wrath, and you sneak in and inject him with your most
caustic poisons.”
“I am ready, Master,” Toxin said.
Zarah appeared between us. “Jagen, come back. Don’t be
stupid!”
“Sometimes a foolish, unexpected action can turn the tide of
battle. Our enemy expects us to cower on the lower level and await
his coming. I’ll do the opposite,” I said.
She moved closer. “You don’t stand a chance against him! At
least let me help!”
Touching the side of her smooth cheek, I smiled. “As lovely as
your melodies are, I don’t believe they’ll be able to help in this
instance. This will not be a drawn-out fight.”
“I know. You’re going to get killed in about twenty seconds,” she
said as she leaned in, resting her head on my breastplate.
“Only twenty? Have at least some faith, my little bard,” I said.
“I’m serious. Don’t do this.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll come back. It’s
dangerous for you to be here. Stay in the throne room.” I willed her
back to the lower level just as she opened her mouth to protest.
“Such...loyalty,” Toxin said.
“Yes. I’ll have to make sure it isn’t for naught,” I said as I focused
on the dungeon ahead of us.
I pointed to the far side of the cavern, which was shrouded in
darkness. “He’ll exit into the cavern in five minutes.” I cast every
protection spell I’d learned on the both of us. A spell to protect
against the elements, another to protect against gases and acids,
another to help against bladed weapons, a fourth against blunt
damage, and another to deflect missile weapons. After the troubles
found along our various adventures, I’d made sure to pick up at least
the rudimentary protection spells. “I’m done.”
Toxin backed away, disappearing into the shadow of a stalagmite.
The cavern grew quiet. I doused my lights and ducked behind a
waist-high boulder. The sound of hundreds of droplets of water
slowly dripping from the ceiling, splashing into shallow puddles or
plopping onto stone, echoed around me. I could feel the Destroyer
approaching slowly, as if some impending doom loomed before us. I
then realized that he was not attacking this level as he’d done on the
previous ones. Most likely, he wanted to avoid a cave-in.
While he’d destroyed much of each previous level, he’d always
left a path for someone to come behind him to retrieve the treasures
the church, nobles, and my brother wanted. I considered attempting
to bring the cavern down upon him, but there would be no way of
controlling it. We’d bury ourselves on the bottom levels, with almost
no magic left to rebuild. At least our enemies would be denied what
they’d worked so hard to obtain.
A distant flash preceded utter chaos. Whistling projectiles rained
down around me as pale green glowing arrows lodged in the
cavern’s landscape. A stalactite close by cracked and crashed to the
ground, showering me with shards of rock. Estimating my opponent’s
position from the trajectory of the projectiles, I unleashed three
blazing orbs that streaked out into the darkness. Seconds later,
devastating balls of flame filled half the cavern as thunder rumbled.
Bolts of lightning streaked past me, exploding all around,
destroying stalagmites and rocky outcroppings. Diving to the side, I
rolled away as the electrical current attempted to travel through my
damp armor but was repelled by my protective spell.
Using the path of the bolts to further home in on his position, I
cast a rotating circle of blue magic that launched spears of ice in
rapid succession. The sound of metal clanging meant at least a few
had hit their mark, but before I could celebrate, thousands of metal
shards exploded forth, screaming as they ripped through the entire
cavern. The stone ahead of me and my shield blocked most of the
shrapnel, but several bits ricocheted from my armor, embedding
themselves into the stone floor.
“Toxin, take cover. Stay far from him,” I mentally projected.
“Multae Vortexus Turbini!” I said as I cast five miniature tornadoes
as far away as possible. The spinning windstorms picked up the
magical metal shards and carried them off, slinging them in every
direction as they tore through the cave toward the Destroyer. Again,
the ringing of metal on metal indicated I’d struck my target. Judging
by the sound of it, one of the dust devils had enveloped the knight
completely. Surely the man inside had suffered some damage from
such an attack.
Now I could see my enemy as several glowing red orbs lit the
entire cavern around him. He stood defiantly in the open, searching
the darkness for me. To my dismay, his white and gold armor
appeared unharmed, and he seemed uninjured.
 I ducked low, slowly creeping behind cover until I was close
enough for my next spell. Upon closer inspection, I could see that he
was undamaged other than a few rips in his tabard. I now realized I
was too close to retreat safely if he unleashed his full wrath. Without
the need to draw sigils or use hand signs, he would be faster than I
was. My only hope would be to counterspell him as he spoke and
then to unleash a full barrage of magic.
A flare of light erupted in the distance, catching the Destroyer’s
attention. Leaping up, I wove the erode life spell and quickly followed
up with a barrier of energy. Almost instantly, my foe summoned his
disintegration beams, which bore into my magic shield with a high-
pitched whine. I cast a tight circle of flame around him, hoping to
bake him alive, but he walked through the fire unscathed.
He reached out a hand, and I cast my counterspell. I hadn’t heard
any of the spells he’d cast so far, but he had to be whispering the
words inside the helm. It was a desperate gamble, because I would
be the one unable to cast for minutes if he hadn’t been casting at the
moment I counterspelled. Phantasmal swords formed around me,
each striking rapidly in succession, indicating I’d failed. The
disintegration beams continued to eat into my magic barrier, and now
I was unable to launch any spells of my own.
Slashed from behind, I turned and blocked the magic sword’s
next blow with my shield, then whirled about and parried the second
sword’s attack with Purgatory. Fighting three swords that maintained
an equal distance around you so that one was always behind was
nearly an impossible task. These particular swords hit harder than
any normal man and moved in ways no human’s weapon could
match.
Fortunately, I was quite a bit beyond a normal human. When the
third blade attacked again, Purgatory slammed into it with such
force, the magic blade fractured into pieces before fading away. I
prepared to leap out of the way as I cast a quick glance at the
Dungeon Destroyer. His phantom blades spell had given him ample
opportunity to attack, and other than my rapidly failing magical
shield, I was wide open.
 To my relief, Toxin had joined the fray, dancing in and out of the
shadows as his powerful twin blades struck against the knight’s
armor, seeking a weak point. Smashing another of the floating
swords, I whirled quickly to eliminate the last of them. I then turned
my attention back to the knight, hoping my ability to use magic had
returned. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment my barrier failed
and the twin disintegration beams tore into me.
The points of my armor struck by the powerful energy quickly
heated to a glowing red even in the brief seconds that had passed.
Putting my chromatic steel shield between the beams and myself for
a brief respite, I quickly moved to the side, but they followed
perfectly. Running behind a towering stalagmite for cover, I had but a
second before the cool, wet stone exploded, sending me flying into
the air as rock shrapnel tore into me.
The world blurred as my ears rang. I needed to get to my feet
before the powerful rays found me again, but it felt as if my mind
needed to figure out which way was up and down first. Glowing lights
grew brighter, and I flinched as I knew the next thing I would feel was
the powerful rays of heat destroying my armor and then myself.
Instead, a large shadow loomed, darkening the area.
My eyes refocused to find one of the behemoth worms had risen
up from the floor, placing itself between me and the spell. It shrieked
in pain as its thick body was slowly vaporized, but it bought me
enough time to come to my senses. Dozens of psuthal warriors
rushed past me, attacking the knight with their darts and spears.
Summoning a small globe of light to test my spellcasting ability, I
leapt out to assist the warriors, only to find a ring of small fireballs
rotating around the Destroyer, moving farther away from him as they
spun faster.
“Get ba —” I shouted before everything around us exploded. It
felt as if I’d been launched into a furnace. In a desperate effort to
escape the inferno, I teleported back to the throne room.
“Master!”
“Summon the goblin healer!”
“Jagen, what —”
Zarah’s face was the last thing I saw.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Weakness

M
urmuring voices invaded my dreamless sleep. People were
arguing. I was currently having a disagreement with my own
body — I wished to wake, and it did not. Finally, it caved to my
demands and I opened my eyes. Even my eyelids hurt.
“Jagen!” Zarah said. She knelt beside my bed but flew to her feet.
“You’re awake!”
“Row mron as out?” I mumbled.
“I think he wants to know how much time has passed,” Yaug said.
“Several hours.”
“Hours?” I slung the covers from me. It felt as if I’d also slung off
my arm in the process. “Where is it?”
“The Destroyer is currently held captive on the floor above.
Despite his power, the jester has managed to delay him a
considerable amount of time.”
Attempting to rise, Zarah pushed me back. “You need rest. You
were injured.”
“Toxin? The psuthals?”
“They...didn’t make it,” she said. “You almost didn’t.”
Despite their objections, I swung out of bed. My chest was
covered in bandages, along with my elbow and ankle.
“I removed several bits of rock and metal from your flesh, and
you have severe burns in several areas,” Tollo explained. “It’s a
testament to your inhuman durability that you live, and with so few
injuries. I’d like to study —”
“We need to prepare for battle. Where’s my armor?” I asked.
“There,” Zarah said as she pointed to the corner. The chromatic
steel shield had warped and melted. My armor was riddled with
numerous dents, scorch marks, and even some holes. Several
straps still smoked.
“It’s amazing you survived,” Yaug said.
 “I’m fine,” I said as my right leg almost buckled from under me. A
jimp handed me a glass of water as it held a pitcher to pour for me.
Instead, I grabbed the pitcher and gulped its entire contents.
“To the throne room.”
“Welcome back, Master. I’ve taken the liberty of organizing the
treasure room into common baubles, fine jewels, and rare artifacts
for easier transport,” Mistress Bitter said.
Once seated on my throne, my connection to the dungeon grew
stronger. Yet, I could tell its power was severely weakened. “We
aren’t leaving. Bring up an image of Ral’s floor.”
Walls burned and crumbled; handcrafted furniture lay in pieces.
Banners and portraits blazed. Yet...some of them returned to their
normal state, as if time rewound itself. The knight unleashed his fury
as Ral blinked in and out of existence. The jester’s usual merry
attitude was nowhere to be found — he actually seemed to be
fighting for his life.
“Did he rest after our battle?” I asked.
“No, he wiped out any psuthals that presented themselves. Most
of the survivors took shelter in the crevices and cracks and
abandoned their village, avoiding his wrath,” Mistress Bitter said.
“It’s impossible for anyone to use this much magic without rest
and building their reserves again!” I growled.
Carine cleared her throat before speaking. “Can you tell me what
this is?” She pointed to an image Shalla projected of the dungeon
entrance. The large crystal construct now glowed ominously. A tent
had been erected around the rear of it, leaving only the face of the
crystal exposed to the mouth of the dungeon.
“It’s been there for days. We don’t know what it does,” Zarah
said.
“I’ve seen pictures of similar things in old ruins. I never figured
out what they were used for, but you know I’ve been working on
experiments to transfer energy —”
“Gnome, we have no time for your incessant prattling. The enemy
knocks at our gates,” Mistress Bitter said.
“Let her speak,” I said.
 “Well, just as a curved lens can focus the power of the sun on
one spot, I’ve had some success doing the same with cough cough
combinations of the gems I’ve collected. That’s why I’m always
looking out for...larger ones.” She was now sweating profusely and
out of breath. “So...”
“So, what? What are you inferring?” Mistress Bitter said.
“What if that...thing is focusing magic into the dungeon? Notice its
cough shape?”
I thought of the piece of glass I’d used long ago to start a fire to
keep warm on the first level of the dungeon. “Perhaps she is right.
The Destroyer can’t possibly have this much magic on his own.”
“How would the magic flow to him through the different levels?
Your theory would make sense if he were standing in the stream’s
path, but it couldn’t possibly traverse the levels,” Yaug said.
“What if the group wasn’t merely opening doors, but also leaving
something to redirect the flow between levels? It wouldn’t
necessarily have to be a straight line because the magic would seek
out the next...pylon or the Destroyer himself? Recall how the keys to
each door are linked through magic, no matter where the key is,” I
said.
Carine continued my train of thought, although her voice had
become merely a whisper. “If we could find whatever they’d left
behind, we could break the link to the Destroyer and cut off his...flow
of magic.”
“The enemy is upon us, and you wish to act upon untested
theories! This is ludicrous,” Mistress Bitter complained.
I teleported Yaug and myself to the doorway leading down from
the first floor. “Desicry Arcenarum!” The air around us glowed
slightly, but nothing appeared.
Yaug cast several more advanced detection spells on top of
mine. The glow tightened into a stream of magic that flowed from the
entrance and down through the doorway toward the level below.
“It’s just as she said. Something is here,” Yaug said as he held
his hands out into the ephemeral river of magic.
“Why can’t we see it?”
 He cast another spell, but nothing revealed itself. “Perhaps it is
not physically here but hidden by stronger spells than I possess. It
could have hidden itself between our realm and another, slightly out
of phase with our reality, but anchored enough to guide the stream.”
I looked down the dark hall toward the entrance of the dungeon.
“But even so...where would such magic come from? A single crystal
can’t possess that much magic. It would be like dozens of Soul
Spheres.”
“What if the crystal merely focused magic from others? How
many magic users could have been summoned during the weeks
you were in Mistress Bitter’s dungeon?”
I thought of the speed in which the Dungeon Destroyer had cast
his spells, and the fact that they took no toll upon him. “Yes, they
could be casting through him. That would explain why my
counterspell did nothing. He is not speaking the spells but merely
projecting what others are casting from safely outside the dungeon.”
“We have to break the flow of magic,” Yaug said.
I attempted to force the dungeon entrance door closed, then the
one beside us. Both resisted. Like trying to dam a river that was
flowing, it was impossible. I was sure the main entrance was blocked
open by other means as well. “We could collapse the halls.”
“I don’t believe that would stop it. Physical barriers would do little
to deter such a stream of magic. Think of the ley lines that run deep
through the planet. Solid rock means nothing to them.”
Zarah materialized between us. “The Destroyer has finished with
Ral. He’s coming down.”
“Summon your skeletons,” I said. “We’ll attack the crystal
directly.”
The undead wizard’s minions crawled up from the earth,
prepared for battle. “I’m ready, Master.”
The world blinked, and we appeared in the mouth of the
dungeon. I cast several lances of fire, ice, and stone, as well as a
pulsing cannon of magic that launched its first blast toward the
crystal, which rested several dozen feet away. Yaug’s skeletons
charged as bolts of black lightning erupted from his fingertips.
 The barrage of magic and bone flew toward our target, only to
strike an unseen barrier, deflecting off into the floor, walls, ceiling,
and back at us. The skeletons were obliterated as they were caught
in the reflected magic. Yaug fell under his own dark bolts as I hid
behind the magic barrier that was part of my spell.
When the smoke cleared, it was apparent none of our attacks
had made it out of the dungeon. Not even a pebble had bounced out
through the entrance. It was sealed by incredibly powerful spells.
“I suppose we should have expected that,” Yaug said as he
floated to his feet.
“Yes, it would have been foolish to place such an artifact so close
to the enemy without protection. Not all minions are limited to the
dungeon. The real question is: what do we do now?”
“Return to the others and defend the Sphere. I’ll attempt to
discern the location of the beacon that is directing the flow
downward,” Yaug said. “If we can break just one connection, it
should be enough to depower the knight.”
“May Castigous guide you,” I said before reappearing in the
throne room. “Armor.”
“Armor? You’re injured!” Zarah said.
Despite her protests, the jimps dutifully helped me into the
damaged suit. “Unfortunately, there is no one left to defend the
dungeon. Bitter, see if you can assist Yaug.”
“I am no wizard! Of what use could I be? We should be leaving!”
“No, but you command magics of your own, and he may have
need of assistance. You can either face the Destroyer with me or
assist him, but no one is leaving this dungeon right now.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but instead replied, “I’ll assist
the bag of bones.” She teleported away, leaving all three thrones
empty.
“Shalla, continue to help Carine. Asp, go with your mistress.
Zarah, remain here. Inform me if anything changes above or if Yaug
sends a message.”
“He just defeated you, and you’re going to fight him again?”
Zarah asked. “Is this about your ego?” She was a paler shade of red
than normal and looked exhausted. The damage the Destroyer had
done to the dungeon had obviously taken its toll on her. She almost
seemed too tired to argue, but she found a way.
“No, this is about defending what I hold dear,” I said as I brought
her close for a kiss.
“I’m afraid. This time isn’t like the others,” she whispered.
“I know. I’m afraid, too. Stay safe,” I said before walking through
the doorway to the Dire Hall.
The undead dragon remained unusually docile, sniffing the air as
if he could sense the power of the coming threat.
Casting my protection spells, I attempted to adjust my armor in
several places, but found the straps had been damaged from the
earlier fight. “You know he’s coming, don’t you?”
The dragon snorted and kept its eyes focused on the door to the
hall.
My shield felt as if it were a piece of wax that had gotten too
close to a fire. I’d need a proper blacksmith to repair it. I wondered
where the three artisans were that had helped reforge the dungeon.
The dragon’s unnatural roar filled the chamber. It strained against
the chain holding it, jerking several times until the bolts in the wall
broke free. The beast raced toward the hall with surprising speed.
Jogging to keep up, my bandages and the pain in my chest and
limbs reminded me of my earlier encounter with the Destroyer. I
hoped Yaug could find a solution soon.
Just as the white armored knight appeared through the doorway,
the dragon’s black fire engulfed him. I added a torrent of my own
flame, hoping that perhaps our combined might would do something
to the unrelenting warrior.
A green cloud formed above the dragon, soon raining green
sizzling acid upon its back. A bolt of lightning erupted from the
inferno of flame, striking the beast several times in the head.
The knight stepped through the black and yellow flames and
summoned a lumbering golem of stone at my feet as the knight
focused his attention on the dragonlich.
Blocking the powerful stone monster’s first blow with my
deformed shield, I sent my fist directly through its chest, then
unleashed a sonic explosion spell within it, shattering it to bits.
 The dragon stumbled back as it was assaulted with flames, acid,
electricity, and holy prayers. It was as if two groups of powerful
spellcasters were coordinating their attacks at once.
“Terrem Hydrososis!”
The knight quickly sank into a pit of water up to his helm. I
solidified the ground around him as I worked to mitigate the spells
plaguing the dragon. Rains washed away the acid and dispersed the
fires.
No longer in pain, the dragon turned on the knight, stamping its
clawed bony feet upon his exposed head. Yet the attacks did nothing
as the Destroyer turned transparent and floated up from the floor. He
then split into ten knights, each attacking both me and the dragon. It
was as if we were taking on an entire guild at once.
The three knights facing me focused multiple icy spells on me as
well as the area. Hail, frost beams, and cold cones of frigid magic
enveloped me as I attempted to counter them with a spell that
surrounded me with a flaming aura.
The aura died as the unrelenting cold permeated my being,
coating first my armor, then the area around me. In moments, I was
encased in a block of ice, unable to move or speak. Satisfied with
their work, the knights turned to the dragon.
Under their unrelenting mass assault, the dragonlich fell to its
side, struggling to rise as it was bound with golden chains, the
weight of golden coins, ice, stone blocks, circles of golden light, and
a myriad of other spells and prayers. Once it had been incapacitated,
nine of the ten knights slowly marched on the flailing beast, grabbing
hold of its legs, neck, and even climbing inside its ribcage.
The first detonation separated the dragon’s foot from its body.
The other eight explosions turned the dark room into the surface of
the sun as the knights exploded together, ripping apart the stone
floor and ceiling. The shockwave rattled my own bones and cracked
the ice around me. With a powerful shrug, I broke free — just in time
to dodge a massive giant coin that fell on the spot where I’d just
been.
The two beams of disintegration activated, and I teleported to the
throne room, slamming the doors closed with a thought.
 “That was close,” Setha said as she nocked an arrow and aimed
at the door.
Already, I could hear the high-pitched whine of the twin beams
focused on the stout doors.
“Zarah, show me Yaug and Bitter.” The undead wizard and insect
queen were in the middle of some sort of ritual. “Yaug, have you
discovered a way to shut down the magic?”
“I’ve peered into ten dimensions, but I haven’t located the
device.”
“How many dimensions are there?”
“At least several thousand, Master. I theorize there could be
millions.”
I looked to Carine, who was now unconscious. The stress of the
situation must have been too much for her. It was a miracle she still
lived. There was no way to save her, now. No way to save any of us.
I thought of the time we’d spent in the Sanctum, researching her
various projects and the half-finished experiments Orgun had left
incomplete.
A thought occurred to me then — we’d be safe in the
extradimensional space. Even the Destroyer would not be able to
reach us there. Yet the Sphere would be destroyed, and we’d have
to come back to a dead dungeon, only to die ourselves moments
later.
The doors began to glow as the sound of more spells slammed
against them.
“If you’re going to do something, it had better be quick,” Setha
said.
“Wait. I’ve...got an idea. Val Tempus!” I said. “Val Tempus!
Answer me, you miserable stick of wood!”
Orgun’s staff appeared before me, floating in midair. “I’ve heard
you, you pathetic excuse for a dungeon master. What do you want? I
was in the middle of an important experiment.”
I held out my hand, summoning him to my grasp. We
disappeared from the throne room, appearing behind the Dungeon
Destroyer. He began to turn, but I leapt upon him, wrapping my left
arm around his neck. A fireball erupted from his visor, striking the
ceiling above us.
“To the Sanctum!” I shouted.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Farewell

T
he knight broke free of my hold and shoved me away. Holding
out his hand, I readied my shield for his spell, but nothing
happened. The Destroyer looked at his hand, as if confused.
“There’s no magic for you here, friend,” I said.
The Dungeon Destroyer looked about and paused, seemingly
unsure of how to proceed. Suddenly, he grabbed the sides of his
helm with both hands, shaking his head as he staggered into a table,
knocking over an array of bubbling beakers and vials.
“I suppose it’s quite an unpleasant experience to be cut off from
so much power so suddenly,” I said as I unsheathed Purgatory.
“You’d best pray you are an expert at swordplay, friend.”
The sound of Purgatory sliding free from its sheath caused the
knight to pause and calm himself. He slowly pulled his sword free for
the first time since he’d entered the dungeon and assumed a combat
stance.
I held out a hand and began to utter a spell, but Val Tempus
smacked it away.
“Remember the experiments here, fool! You’ll ruin centuries of
research and knowledge! You never should have brought an enemy
here!” the staff said.
I began to argue, but he was right — at least on the point of there
being valuable research and knowledge here. I couldn’t risk using
spells around so many magical artifacts and delicate equipment.
Some of the artifacts were irreplaceable. After the damage and pain
this man had caused me, I’d make him pay in a more intimate
manner. That’s when I recognized his weapon.
“What are you doing with that sword? What’s happened to
Leath?” I said.
Galvas crackled menacingly in the knight’s right hand.
The Destroyer advanced on me, bringing the sword down in a
powerful arc that created a shower of sparks against Purgatory.
 “Careful!” Val Tempus warned.
Dancing backward, I lured the Destroyer away from the vials and
chemicals to a more open area of the room. I cast another spell of
protection to increase my resistance to electricity. Otherwise, each
strike from Galvas would weaken my grip as small jolts of electricity
ran through my arm.
“Where’s the owner of that blade?” I asked as I struck back
several times, testing the Destroyer’s skill and strength. Was Leath a
prisoner of the traitors? Had they killed him?
Noticing my distraction, the Destroyer advanced with a series of
blows that caught me off guard. Apparently, he’d been testing me as
well. Now, the duel began in earnest.
I quickly found myself hard pressed against the Destroyer’s skill
and speed, yet I’d trained my entire life against some of the best
swordsmen in the realm. He’d find I wasn’t merely another dungeon
minion to be easily eliminated. My injuries from our previous battle
protested, but I ignored them.
The fight continued throughout an area of preserved and stuffed
animals, several lost limbs or their innards as our blades clashed in
rapid succession, too fast for a normal man’s eyes to follow.
Val Tempus lodged himself between some of the blows, seeking
to protect the contents of the Sanctum. “What are you idiots doing?
Who is this intruder?”
“He’s called the Dungeon Destroyer. He’s done...just as his name
suggests to the dungeon,” I said as I marveled at the knight’s
swordsmanship.
“The dungeon is gone? How could this have happened?”
I ignored his question, attempting to finally strike a blow to end
the fight, but my opponent seemed to almost predict my gambit and
easily countered.
The battled continued for what seemed like hours but was
perhaps only fifteen minutes. I had to admit that the Destroyer was
better than I was. Not by much, but enough to make me concede
that he was my superior. I was stronger and faster, but his skill made
up for my physical power.
 Worse, Galvas was beginning to take its toll on both Purgatory
and myself. My dark blade’s honed edge had been dulled and
flattened, and my arm was growing heavy from its electrical shocks.
My spell of protection offered some resistance to electricity, but it did
not make me immune.
The thought of this man using Leath’s blade suddenly infuriated
me. I would not be defeated by the sword used by the man who had
been like a father to me.
I switched hands to give my right arm a chance to recover. While
not as proficient with my left, my right had weakened so much that
the left would be an improvement. To my surprise, the Destroyer
likewise switched. Was he toying with me?
This swordfight was easily the most difficult I’d ever experienced.
My thoughts drifted back to when Leath had come to take me back
to my father against my will. I’d given that fight everything I’d had,
but it hadn’t been enough. We’d been defeated, and only subterfuge
had allowed us to win. For a moment, I considered using magic
against the Destroyer. Without the support of the mages and priests,
he likely wouldn’t have a way to counter magic, but it would be
cheating at this point. I would be conceding he was the stronger
fighter, the better man.
Had he shown any mercy in the dungeon? He would have
destroyed me in an instant without thought. Why did I hesitate?
Honor and chivalry meant nothing — only survival mattered. Leath
had once told me a man is nothing without his word and reputation,
but in reality, the victors determined the tale of what had transpired
during a battle.
“You’re...very good, but I will not relent,” I said.
My opponent responded with a series of powerful and evasive
strikes that left me open, but I blocked his blade with the armor on
the back of my right hand. I was rewarded with a massive jolt of
electricity that elicited dancing stars in my vision. Sensing my
weakness, he lunged in, only to be struck from behind by Val
Tempus.
He whirled on the staff, lashing out with Galvas, but the magical
staff flew out of range.
 It may have been unsporting, but I took advantage of his
distraction and cautiously advanced, only to find my blade deflected
as the Destroyer’s arm spun behind his back.
I hadn’t seen anyone attempt a move like that in combat since...
“Leath?”
The Destroyer whirled around, pausing. He said nothing.
“Leath? Is that you? It’s me, Jagen.” It seemed ludicrous to even
think the man in the armor was my old mentor, but suddenly the fight
felt remarkably familiar. My opponent’s movements were stiff and
lacked Leath’s finesse and flare, but at the heart of them, I couldn’t
deny many of them had been the same.
“Leath?” I asked as I removed my helm. “Do you know me?”
The knight lashed out with unbelievable speed. I barely got
Purgatory in position to block it. My opponent’s attacks became more
fierce and powerful. Bolts of electricity began to arc from Galvas,
igniting several parchments.
It could not be Leath. While his swordsmanship was similar,
Leath would never legitimately attack me.
The Destroyer switched back to his right hand and redoubled his
efforts. Now on the defensive, I again thought of utilizing magic.
Honor meant nothing if you were dead. Backing into a table, I barely
avoided a strike to my head as I regained my balance.
The Destroyer paused for a brief moment. Galvas crackled
ominously before striking again. That’s when I noticed the limp. Had
it been there this entire time? No, I would have noticed. It was the
same knee Leath had been complaining about.
“Leath! Listen to me. Can you hear me?”
My opponent seemed enraged by my question, letting loose with
attacks that left me confused and on the defensive. Using the last of
my strength, I went on the offense, attempting to tire or disarm the
Destroyer.
“Leath, remember that night in the Maiden’s Britches when
the...bard fell from the table onto the dwarf? Do you remember the
fight that followed? You said it was...the best night of your life!” I
shouted.
 The Destroyer’s attacks became more vicious...more deadly. It
seemed he wanted to end the fight sooner rather than later.
“Remember that time you got so drunk you ended up in the
brothel, and the customers thought you worked there, and you slept
with that scalax?”
That one really infuriated the knight. It seemed my words were
having the opposite effect upon him. I could barely even see the
blows coming as electricity cracked and danced around me, sending
shocks and jolts through me.
The swordsman’s well-practiced maneuvers had been replaced
with a whirling dervish of inelegant, uncontrolled, but more fearsome
strikes. “Leath...remember...”
Purgatory paused, frozen in air....no, it was lodged in my
opponent’s neck. Instinctively, I’d lashed out at the opening
presented by my opponent. The Destroyer staggered back several
steps before dropping Galvas to the floor with a clang. The only
sound in the room was the labored breathing of two men pushed to
their limits. One was now dying.
Blood ran down Purgatory’s fuller, slowly inching toward my
hand. I dropped the battered blade to the floor and collapsed to my
knees. Every muscle shook.
The Destroyer fell face-first to the ground, blood pooling
underneath his helm. Crawling toward him, I barely had the strength
to flip him over once I’d reached his side.
“Leath?” I scrambled to remove his helm. “No...”
He looked up at me and smiled before coughing up a splatter of
blood. “Thanks...for taking that cough off, son.”
“What happened to you?”
“Don’t...remember. Napped in my room then...woke up on a table
surrounded by mages and...priests.” Blood trickled out of both sides
of his mouth.
Val Tempus cast a spell of illuminate magic. “Look at the invisible
runes upon his head. These are meant to control a person. He may
have not recognized or heard you.”
“Recognized your...style, though. Still sloppy,” Leath said with a
blood-stained smile. “Finally...saw...”
 “You left yourself open. You practically leapt upon my sword.
Why?”
He turned his head to the side, coughing out a splatter of thick
blood.
“Rest yourself. I’ll take you to a goblin healer,” I said.
“That would be risky. The runes may refresh outside of the
Sanctum,” Val Tempus said.
He was right. Even if the runes failed, the armor would again be
powered by the stream of magic from the crystal. Could the casters
use Leath in his current condition to unleash their spells? The sigils
controlling him now were much more advanced than the ones I’d
dispelled in the alley. I could remove them...in time.
“We cough both know this is the end, Jagen.”
“No, we can fix this. I can take you to the Penance —”
He leaned up and fell back to the floor, wincing in pain. “No!
Don’t...ever do that...”
“I can keep you alive...we can be together. You’ll never have to
die. I can always bring you back...”
“Don’t...make me serve...that god...” Leath whispered as he
closed his eyes.
“Leath! Wake up!” I shouted.
His eyes remained closed, but he smiled again. “Always...made
me proud...Jagen...” His smile faded as he breathed his last.
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Vengeance

I
reappeared upon my throne, Leath’s last words echoing in my
mind. I’d lost another father, again by my own hand. Was I
destined to kill everyone? Was this what it meant to serve
Castigous? Leath was right to reject my offer. It was a curse.
“Jagen!” Zarah shouted as she threw her arms around me. “Is he
gone?”
“The Dungeon Destroyer is...gone.”
“You don’t seem very happy about it...what happened?” Zarah
asked.
“I’ll explain it later. Tell Yaug and Bitter to return.”
The skeletal mage and insect queen reappeared upon their
thrones.
“The threat has been eliminated,” I said.
“How did you —” Yaug began to ask before I held up a hand.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but nothing has changed.
The dungeon is virtually out of magic, and an army stands at our
gates. Your pet hangs onto life by a thread. Any moment, a —”
Mistress Bitter said before I clenched my hand into a fist. She
gasped for air.
“Now is not the time, Bitter.”
Setha smiled.
“My mistress is correct. Already another group of soldiers has
entered the dungeon. Many more than before,” Asp said.
“They may realize something has gone amiss with their
champion,” Yaug said.
I thought of teleporting directly into the midst of the new intruders,
unleashing my wrath upon them for what they’d done to Leath. Yet
these men likely had nothing to do with Leath’s betrayal. My
brother...and his co-conspirators had perpetrated that act.
 I felt weak...physically and mentally. The fight had sapped the last
of my strength. Vengeance would have to wait.
“We have no minions left to handle the new intruders. Should we
attempt to resurrect one or two?” Yaug asked after an uncomfortably
long silence. “Should I handle it, Master?”
“Does the stream of magic still flow through the dungeon?” I
asked.
“The magic? It has not ceased. Why do you ask?”
“Val Tempus,” I called out.
“I’ve barely put out the fires, and you call me again. What is it?”
the magical staff asked.
“Bring Yaug and myself to the Sanctum. Bitter, keep an eye on
the intruders.”
“Fine. Clean up the mess you caused while you’re there,” Val
stated as he transported us away.
“It’s even more marvelous than I’d dreamed,” Yaug said as he
gaped at centuries of research, experimentation, and relics.
Lifting Leath’s body onto a table, I said, “Help me with this armor.
Find the enchantments upon it.”
“What do you have in mind?” Yaug said as he cast a series of
spells.
Hundreds of layered, complex runes appeared, covering every
inch of both the exterior and interior of the suit. The interior also
contained magical gems arranged in intricate patterns.
“By the gods...” Yaug whispered. “I’ve never seen such...artistry.
It would have taken dozens of craftsmen to make this. This is the
most powerful artifact I’ve ever seen.”
“Look here. Is this the point the magic was collected?” I asked.
Yaug looked from the diagram to me. “Indeed! This sigil connects
to this one, which connects to this other, and they tie into the stones
on the inside. You’re more advanced in your magical studies than I
would have thought.”
“I’ve dabbled a bit in my time. What do these other runes do?”
“Protection spells and prayers...as long as a strong magical
power flows into the armor, they are active. It explains how the man
inside was unharmed during his battles. There’s a ward, spell, or
prayer against just about every form of physical or magical harm built
into the suit. This one here would allow a remote magic user to cast
spells from a distance. There are many like it.”
“I’ve never heard of such enchantments.”
“Isn’t he...your friend?” Yaug asked as he glanced over at Leath,
as if suddenly recognizing him. “Master of the Guard?”
“He was. He was much more than just a friend. He was also my
mentor, and...perhaps I would consider him a father.”
“I’m...sorry for your loss, Master.”
“Enough. The time to grieve will come later. I need you to figure
out something else about these runes...can you modify them?”

MISTRESS BITTER SEEMED agitated when we finally returned. “At

last. I’d like to know how I should deal with these men without
minions or magic. Should I curse at them until they leave?”
“Where are they?”
“The old throne room, searching it.”
“Perfect.”
Yaug and I drew a giant circle on the floor directly behind the
Soul Sphere and worked outwardly in, filling in the magical patterns
we’d devised.
“What are you doing?” Zarah asked.
“Everyone stand back. This could be dangerous,” I said as we
double checked our handiwork. “Check it again, Yaug.”
“Of course, Master.”
Carine hadn’t regained consciousness. “How is she?”
“She rests but weakens. It won’t be long now.”
I scooped up the gnome and carried her down the steps to my
bedroom. Her eyes fluttered open. “J-Jagen? What’s happening?”
“The dungeon is safe. We’ve defeated the Destroyer...thanks to
you. We may have never figured out his secret without your insight.”
“You’re...welcome,” she said before she blacked out again.
 Checking her pulse, I was relieved to see she still lived. I still had
no solution to her problem. I covered her with a blanket. Summoning
Tollo and the shaman, I said, “Help her if you can.”
“Yes, of course, Master.” He was merely humoring me, and we
both knew it.
Rejoining the others, I waited as Yaug did his final analysis.
“Yes, this is perfect,” he said with satisfaction.
“What are the two of you scheming?” Mistress Bitter asked.
“Stand back and take cover,” I said. “Val, now.”
The Dungeon Destroyer chest plate appeared in the middle of
our diagram, floating in midair. Instantly, the glowing runes layered
upon it flared brightly. The armor began to rotate in place, picking up
speed until it had become a blinding whirl. A beam of energy
connected the armor to the back of the Soul Sphere.
The stream of magic we’d witnessed earlier became visible,
becoming a slow red river of particles that flowed into the Soul
Sphere instead of the armor.
“If the wizards and priests wish to give us their magic, let them
give it all,” I said as the stream turned into a flood. “Zarah, show us
an image of just outside the dungeon.”
Outside, the giant focusing gem glowed bright red as black
energy crackled around it. Its center pulsed as the pull of magic from
within the dungeon grew stronger. Shouts of alarm rang out as men
stationed near the mouth of the dungeon burst into flame. From
behind the giant gemstone, the cries soon turned to screams.
“Look!” Zarah shouted. The Soul Sphere quickly filled as if it were
a mug being poured into by an overzealous server.
The armor whirled faster as the river coalesced into a beam of
bright energy.
Outside, the tent behind the gem caught fire as men and women
ran out from inside...each connected to the gem by a smaller beam
of energy. The ones closest to it exploded; the ones just past those
burned alive. The magic users and priests farther away shrank and
shriveled, as if aging decades for every second.
“By Castigous,” Zarah whispered as the entire camp erupted in
chaos. Soldiers fled into the ruins as horses broke their tethers,
trampling the men attempting to calm them.
“It’s full!” Mistress Bitter said.
Indeed, the Soul Sphere had reached its maximum capacity, and
the power still flowed into it. I mentally redirected the excess power
to the other two dungeons, beginning to fill those as well. The rest —
I took into myself.
Outside, the beams of light switched from the magic users to
anything close by, absorbing what little magic or life force lingered in
the soldiers. Scores died in seconds as the gem drained them dry,
seeking more and more power. At last, nothing remained, and the
gem’s light faded. The armor that had imprisoned Leath spun slower,
until it stopped and hummed in midair. The Soul Sphere crackled
with excess power, threatening to explode.
Zarah smiled. “This is enough to —”
“No, even this much power won’t be enough to rebuild your
dungeon,” Mistress Bitter said.
“She’s right. It’s too damaged to fix completely,” I said.
“We can fix the upper levels...put it back to how it used to be,” my
Dungeon Heart suggested.
“We won’t be strong enough to stop them when they come back.”
“After what just happened, you think they will come back? They’d
have to be daft —”
“They’ll be back. It’s not enough to rebuild. We have to become
even stronger,” I said. “They’ll never stop. If not my brother and the
Uxper Orthodoxy, others will come. We can’t merely rebuild each
time, we need to be stronger.”
“If you don’t release this power soon, it will damage all of our
Spheres,” Yaug said as he studied the glowing and flashing Soul
Sphere. “They are beyond capacity.”
“A moment, please,” I said as I teleported to my bedroom.
I touched my hand to Carine’s forehead. It was cold and damp.
Staring at her chest, I was relieved to see it rise slightly.
“She has mere moments. I apologize, Master,” Tollo said.
I knelt beside the gnome and brushed her hair out of her eyes.
“Carine...can you hear me? Carine?”
 At last, her eyes opened, and she smiled. “J-Jagen? You’re
okay...” I could barely make out her words.
“Carine...I may be able to save you, but...it would mean...”
“I’d be cough bound to the dungeon...I’d serve Castigous...”
“No, you’d serve no one. Not even me. You’d be free to do as you
wish.”
She shook her head feebly. “You know that’s not...true.”
“No, I suppose not. Even I serve a master, even if I refuse to
believe it. Perhaps we are all but pawns for the gods, kings, or
masters. None of us are absolutely free to do what we want.”
“Yes.”
“Are you...saying you’ll do it?”
“I...want to see more of this world. I want more time with you...I
have a feeling your adventures cough are far from over. The next
world can wait.”
“You understand that means —”
“I already said yes, didn’t I? Are you cough cough going to...talk
me out of it?”
Smiling, I scooped her up and carried her to the throne room.
Was I doing the right thing? I thought of how Toxin, Nebulus, and
Duke Merromont had turned out. Was I able to control what would
happen to her at least on some level? What if she became a
grotesque monstrosity or was no longer herself? Could I live with
that? Once committed to the pool, her only escape from this world
was into Castigous’ realm of punishment.
“Jagen — you’re not going to...” Zarah whispered.
“It’s the only way,” I said as I knelt beside the Penance of Fate.
Carine looked up at me with utter trust as I held her just above
the liquid, but she seemed too weak to speak.
“Please, Castigous...” I whispered as I let her sink into the pool,
slowly disappearing from sight.
The room grew quiet except for the crackling of energy from the
overloaded Soul Sphere. A few bubbles surfaced from the pool
before it grew calm.
“Did it fail?” Zarah asked as she knelt beside me.
 “No...no!” I said as I focused my willpower into the pool, ordering
it to obey me. “Bring her back! Bring her back as herself!”
The water erupted as Carine grabbed onto the edge of the pool,
coughing and sputtering. Offering a hand, I pulled her free. She
flopped to the ground.
She removed her wet hair from her eyes and looked herself over.
“No tentacles, no extra arms or eyes.” She pulled up her shirt. “Still a
woman.” She touched the side of her head. “No horns. I’m actually a
little disappointed.”
Zarah pointed to Carine’s arm. “There is one difference.”
“But...it was gone?” Carine said as she held up her new arm. It
was lined with rivets and appeared to be made of metal. “What the?”
Suddenly, the hand split open, revealing several blades, tools, and
other devices. She looked at me in surprise.
“I...have no idea,” I said. I’d never seen anything like the synthetic
appendage. All of the previous minions subjected to the pool had
emerged with biological or magical changes.
“Master...the Soul Spheres,” Yaug said.
“What are you going to do?” Zarah asked.
“I’m going to make the dungeon stronger,” I said as I held out my
left hand. Yaug’s smaller Soul Sphere materialized and floated
inches above my palm. Holding out my right hand, I called to the one
behind me. The two metal hands that held it opened up, letting it
float freely to where I waited.
“Such...power,” I said as the Spheres’ magical energy cascaded
around my body. Focusing, I gathered the magic and unleashed my
will. “Now, let there be one!”
 CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A New Dungeon

T
he throne room appeared as a perfect combination of Mistress
Bitter’s with the best aspects of mine. Two long rectangles of
red liquid lined either side of a walkway that led to the golden steps
which ended in a large dais with three ornate thrones.
From the ceiling above the thrones’ dais, massive slender arms
snaked down, each holding a different Soul Sphere. Two were empty
of magic, and the other was only half full.
“Where...are we?” Carine asked.
“Nosteran. I’d recognize this dungeon anywhere,” Setha said as
she sniffed the scents in the air.
Several giant wasps flew through the throne room’s entrance, as
if curious about the new visitors. I sent them away with a thought.
“After all of that...we just evacuated back to her dungeon?” Zarah
asked incredulously.
“This — this is not my dungeon,” Mistress Bitter said as she
looked about in awe.
“Nor mine,” Yaug said as he studied an ancient Nosteran
tapestry.
“No, this is the dungeon. This is the best aspects of all three
dungeons, their strongest minions, their best attributes combined
into a single, more powerful dungeon,” I said as I seated myself on
my new throne. “This is Absolution.”
“A curious name for a tool of the God of Punishment,” Mistress
Bitter said.
Xagrim, Toxin, Ho’Scar and Helatha passed through the throne
room doors and knelt. Ral Davil floated through the wall and looked
around before whistling. “Fancy!”
The three arbolisks trotted in, sniffing the air. Zarah smiled and
flew to Raed. “You brought them back!”
“I see you took many liberties with my dungeon,” Mistress Bitter
said as Asp showed her images of each level.
 “Your former dungeon,” I said.
“Since you didn’t have enough magic to recreate your entire
dungeon, you simply picked the strongest parts and transported
them here...” Yaug said.
“You’ll find I moved your study as well as your golems,” I said.
“Thank you, Master.”
“Why can’t I feel the bugs? Did you get rid of them?” Zarah asked
as she focused on the dungeon’s floors. “Why can’t I see some of
the floors?”
“Asp will handle maintaining any levels that you find...unpleasant.
You’ll have full control of the others,” I said.
“You finally moved the torture chamber to a lower level!” Zarah
said with a laugh.
“Indeed. There have been many changes. Some of which I’ve
wanted to make for a long time. I simply did not have the power or
experience to do so.”
“What about your Sanctum?” Zarah asked.
“The Sanctum exists outside of this realm. I don’t need to access
it from a certain place.”
“The goblins? The psuthals? What of the others? Kyo and
Sessi?”
A pang of regret touched my heart. I’d miss Ligglethorp’s book
exchanges and the wolves. The psuthals would recover in time, able
to hide amongst the vast caverns under Old Vadis.
“The goblins should be fine, safe inside their fortified village,
nestled amongst the mountains. The city would have little reason to
seek them out. The wolves existed outside the dungeon long before I
became its master. They are better off in the wild.”
“Sometimes it’s best to leave the old ways behind and to move
ahead,” Yaug said.
I thought of Leath and suddenly wished to be alone. “Explore
your new surroundings, look for any recommendations for
improvements you may have,” I said as I descended the stairs
toward my familiar room. “For now, leave me be.”
Zarah joined me in the shower that followed. She finally spoke
when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to. “You’re awfully
quiet.”
“I’m...beyond exhaustion. I’ll likely sleep for days.”
“You’re exhausted? I feel like you’ve taken years off of my life
with your recklessness!” She leaned in and kissed me.
“You’re immortal.”
“You know what I mean. What happened with the Dungeon
Destroyer? How did you defeat him?”
I thought of Leath’s last words and the look upon his face as he
finally found peace after a life of war and bloodshed in service to the
kingdom. “I’ll...tell you later. I don’t want to spoil such a lovely
moment.”
“Lovely? What makes it so lovely?” she asked as she wrapped
her arms around me.
“Oh...you know.”
“Do I? Perhaps you’d better show me...”

DAYS LATER, AFTER I’D properly rested, relaxed, eaten far too
much rich fare from Ho’Scar’s kitchen, and read dozens of books, I
searched through my closet for an appropriate outfit — something
that would suit a king.
There were dozens of outfits to choose from, handcrafted by the
best tailors in New Vadis. Orgun’s entire wardrobe had been
replaced with clothing that not only fit me properly, but also had not
looked as if it had been made three hundred years ago. Selecting
one that fit my current mood, I elected to have the jimps help me into
it.
Exiting the room, I felt the eyes of Xagrim, Toxin, the insect
warriors, my Dungeon Hearts, and lieutenant masters upon me as I
strode up the steps to my throne. Taking a seat, I felt the powerful
new dungeon link with me, its minions hungry for conflict, the Soul
Spheres calling out to be fed.
Would our enemies find us here, far to the east? Would new foes
trek into the desolate wastes to recover the lost treasures of New
Vadis that I’d absconded with? Most certainly. They would find a
powerful dungeon that none could predict, that defied their
knowledge. Send armies of men, scores of would-be heroes, and
Destroyers...we would be ready.
“What are your wishes, Master?” Yaug asked.
“Mistress Bitter, tell me of this powerful one who lives in the Land
of Death. Tell me more of this...Ragnor,” I said.
 Author’s Notes:
Please leave a review!
Or I’ll tell Ho’Scar to put you in the torture chamber.
Join the Mailing List
(Book release dates, exclusive deals, free book)
Contact/Follow

Other Books by S Mays:

https://www.s-mays.com/the-good-stuff.html