The waves of treasure hunters prove to be more than just an anomaly. My Catacombs are in shambles, and the enchantments can hardly keep up with all the damage that needs repairing. If it keeps going at this rate, I’m not going to have a hellhound to spare.

I’ve taken to a different strategy, realizing that the usual wait-and-slay approach isn’t going to work any longer. Each of the ten external coves is guarded by a hellhound, while Cerberus and I watch the core. It goes against my policy to allow the core to be unguarded, but this time, I have to make an exception.

At my command, Cerberus follows me to the nearest cove and we begin tearing our way through the adventurers like flame through a nest of wasps. The first band fall easily enough, and I waste no time playing with my food. We move onward in a spiral, cutting through each wave filling the tunnels and coves. The screams soon alert the others, but that’s fine with me. All I care about is clearing these fools out so that I can rearrange the labyrinth.

It’s an extreme measure, and not one I take lightly, considering the magical cost. I’ll be weakened for a day, perhaps more, but it’s worth it if I can stem the flow of pests. Things can’t continue at this rate, or I’ll lose my mind.

I’m nearing the seventh cove when I realize that the intruders have banded together to form one massive group, their fiery arrows piercing through the darkness. A few hit my chest and shoulder and I snarl loudly enough to make the cave tremble. A few rocks block the path, but that will only hold them back for a moment.

Cerberus roars at my side, crouching down to spring on them like the loyal beast he is. He leaps as the nearest warrior cries and raises his broadsword, but before he lands on his prey, they vanish.

All of them. A good fifteen in number, and they’re simply…gone.

I look around in the darkness, convinced that something has to be amiss. This must be an enchantment, or a teleportation spell. I touch the stone wall and let the vibrations speak through my hand. Save for my dogs, the Catacombs are empty.

“Impossible,” I growl, stalking into the darkness. This must be a trick. The adventurers have gained novelty, I’ll give them that. Before I can make it past the eighth empty cove, I hear footsteps behind me, even though my senses tell me that I am alone.

“There’s no need to worry. They won’t be troubling you for the rest of the night. You’ll have plenty of time to rest…and reflect.”

I turn around to find a man dressed in the strangest garb I’ve ever seen. His coat and pants seem to be made of thin wool, cut into sharp pieces with a sharp white shirt and some kind of scarf hanging down from the collar. He certainly doesn’t belong to this region. He doesn’t even look like he belongs to this era.

Even more shocking is the fact that there’s no weapon in his hand. I squint to get a better look at him, but I can’t get a read on him, either. He appears human, but it’s nothing more than a guess based on appearance. I can’t sense any arcane coming from him, but he must be wielding powerful magic to vanquish so many warriors in an instant, and mask all traces of the power he used to do it.

“Who are you?” I snarl, holding back on tearing out his throat, both because I need to assess the threat he poses and because I’m curious. Could this bizarrely dressed stranger possibly hold the key to the scourge that’s been plaguing me this past week?

“My name is Kade Endry,” he answers calmly. His hands are tucked casually in the pockets of his trousers, and he seems as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. His lackadaisical demeanor is all the more alarming in conjunction with his unarmed state.

Seemingly unarmed, I remind myself.

“And what brings you to my Catacombs, Kade?” I spit. “Or are you unaware that those who enter never leave?”

The man gives me a smile that feels sinister, and I can’t remember the last time something raised my hackles. He’s innocuous enough. Not very tall for a human. Weak musculature, and the kind of hands that have never seen a day of honest work in his life. His receding hairline and slight build make him look like one of the king’s advisors, humble in appearance only. The kind of men who are constantly basking in their own importance and willing to talk about peace through one side of their mouth while sending others to their deaths to fulfill some political whim with the other.

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I feel the same sense of smallness that I felt back in my days as a Feudal Lord being forced to lead my men into one pointless battle after another. The advisors were nowhere to be found when the one battle that actually mattered came about, but either way, the sense of deja vu overwhelms me. I see in his dull gray eyes everything that I am to him—and it all amounts to nothing.

And yet, he hasn’t made any overt threats, which makes his presence even more inexplicable.

“Just came to observe,” he says calmly. He walks toward me and stops when I growl in warning. His smirk spreads a little, infecting an already sneering face. “I felt it was about time we met face-to-face.”

“I don’t know you.” I’m more than a little disturbed by the insinuation that I do. I should kill this pompous man who’s daring enough to enter my dungeon and foolish enough to come unarmed, but something holds me back. Something I can’t quite explain. The hesitation comes from the voice that’s strangely silent when it comes to his origins and class.

“No,” he agrees thoughtfully. “Not in this life, but I certainly know you.”

Endry… Now that the name has had time to bounce around in my thoughts, it sounds familiar. The strange warrior who warned of the event. He accused me of killing an Endry, but his name was Marcel, not Kade.

Perhaps this is his next of kin. That would explain his reason for being here, but if revenge is his game, he has a funny way of playing it.

Or maybe he’s just playing with me.

“What do you want?” I snap.

“You took something precious from me,” he says, his voice growing strange and icy. “I thought this world was enough of a punishment, but you seem intent on defying justice, even in death.”

Even though I’m sure I look like nothing more to him than a mutated beast, my expression must be readable enough, because his eyes glint with knowing and he continues to explain. “Everything you see around you was constructed to be your prison,” he says, raising his arms as he gestures around the cove. “Your sentence was to guard this place, day in and day out, in perpetuity.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” I say with a grunt. “I was cursed. I’m bound to this place.”

“That you are. But it was no curse.” His mouth stretches apart to reveal a set of teeth that are too white and perfect for his age and seemingly poor health. He must have paid a fine penny for those. “It was by design. Mine, as a matter of fact.”

“Marcel Endry,” I mutter. “Who was he to you?”

The sound of that name coming from me darkens his eyes, but he holds his temper. “He was my son,” he says in a quivering voice.

“Well, do disrespect intended, but if he was dumb enough to come in here, it was suicide, not murder,” I scoff. I expect an explosive reaction, given how much this guy is bottling up, but instead, he keeps smiling. It’s the eeriest, most unsettling smile I’ve ever seen and it makes my skin crawl enough that I’m sure my fur will fall out.

“Oh, this score goes back to long before then. In a different world. A different life, you might say,” he muses. “You murdered him in cold blood, and as much as I enjoy the idea of you being trapped in here for all eternity, I’m afraid that I can’t let a fiend like you become a folk hero. Beginning tomorrow at dawn, every victor in this kingdom will be rushing to claim your head as a prize, and when one finally succeeds, you will fade into the obscurity that you crawled from.”

I can’t stop the huff of laughter that follows. His accusations make no sense. If he thinks I killed his son, a man whom I’ve never even met, before I became this cursed dungeon guard, he’s out of his mind. Unless of course he means in battle, in which case, the only person who’d view an honorable death at war as murder is equally out of his gourd. I was a fierce warrior, and I showed no mercy in defense of my king, but I was not cruel and I had honor. I cling to it even now, the only remnant of the life that was stolen from me.

“The Event…” I realize, shaking my head. “In case you haven’t noticed, none of your ‘victors’ have been able to kill me yet. What makes you think that will change now?”

“The stakes have been raised,” he says calmly. “I don’t expect you to understand. That’s not the purpose of this.”

“Then what is the purpose of this surprise rendezvous?” I ask bitterly.

Kade doesn’t answer for a few seconds. He watches me and while the hate in his gaze is plain enough, there’s something else that it takes me a moment to identify. Then I realize, only by its reflection from the same thing hidden deep inside of me, that it’s grief.

“Closure, I suppose,” he remarks, reaching into his jacket. I tense up, ready to attack him, but the small blade he pulls out is so short it’s almost laughable. If he thinks he’s going to break my skin with that, let alone kill me, he’s in for a bad surprise. He takes out a handkerchief and polishes the blade in deep contemplation. “At least there’s one thing we have in common.”

“And what is that?” I ask warily, watching the strange creature in a mixture of pity and concern.

“The only way out of this place, for either of us, is death. For you, I’m afraid there’s nothing waiting on the other side.”

I don’t even have time to make sense of his strange comments. I’m the one who’s taken off-guard when he brings the knife to his throat and pulls it all the way across, unleashing a spray of sticky red blood all over the cavern walls. His body collapses and disintegrates into the same pile of ash everyone else’s does before I can investigate.