Several thousand shambling corpses moaned, their bones creaking, creating a deathly symphony as they made their way toward where Xavier, Howard, Siobhan, and Justin stood near the entrance to Great Romalda Heralda’s throne room in The Deathly Dungeon.

Howard retreated back toward the archway that marked the entrance to the massive stone chamber, creating a chokepoint as he activated his Bulwark spell. Siobhan stepped behind Howard, her Divine Guardian stepping in front of her, its armour clanking as it moved, and cast Divine Beacon. A pristine pillar of white light shot up from the ground, lending its healing aura to the group. Justin sunk into a fighting stance and looked ready to sprout wings, though he made no move to attack.

The zombies will funnel toward the archway, and be prevented from surrounding Howard’s Bulwark spell.

It was a pretty perfect set-up, by the looks of it, if one ignored whatever abilities the necromancer controlling the zombies possessed.

“Why… why aren’t you afraid?” Romalda asked, a look of confusion contorting her face, a face that had no doubt been beautiful in life, and now was simply striking in a wholly different way.

“Because there is nothing here for me to fear.” Xavier turned to his party. “Shout if you need help.” He faced the throne, took two bounding steps, then leapt over the zombie horde. His hair brushed the top of the chamber’s ceiling. He landed smoothly on the other side and smiled.

Sometimes he forgot just how damned high his Strength and Speed attributes were, as they were often overshadowed by his other attributes.

A god among ants.

He extinguished that thought—he didn’t want to think of himself as a god, but a protector.

Romalda stood from her throne, gaping down at him. Her throne was on a raised platform with a small set of steps leading up to it. Xavier scanned the woman, using Identify.

{Human Necromancer – Level 40}

A necromancer has dominion over death, able to extend their lifespans through the darkest of sacrificial magic. They have the power to summon several different undead minions to their side and often have a strong affinity for regenerative magic.

This necromancer’s magic can be felt influencing The Deathly Dungeon

That didn’t really tell me much.

He’d been hoping the Identify skill would offer him more than that—it didn’t even mention her name.

­Perhaps when the skill ranks up some more.

“I-I cannot scan you.” Romalda’s raspy voice quivered.

Xavier did not wish to prolong the necromancer’s suffering, though he wondered if she would return the favour to him were the roles reversed. “Tell me, what do you know about dungeons?”

A staff appeared in the woman’s hand, one made from bones and topped with a skull with glowing emeralds for eyes. “I shall tell you nothing!” Her eyes widened as she cast a spell, weaving darkness about her that she shot toward him.

Xavier didn’t bother using Soul Block. He wanted to feel what she could do. Whatever the spell was tickled him, not even dropping his health by a single percent, but he got a sense of…

Rot?

Romalda gaped, staring at the lack of damage, at the pristine, unaffected form of Xavier. She took a step back, but there was nowhere to go, and she simply fell back onto her throne.

Sounds of fighting came from behind him. Blades thudding into flesh. Howard and Justin’s shouts as they struck down zombie after zombie. No cries for help, however.

They can handle this—I need to learn to let them fight on their own.

“This…” Romalda shook her head. She looked… positively bereft of hope. “This was not what the System promised…”

Xavier blinked. He tilted his head to the side, examining the woman. “You aren’t going to try to fight me?”

The necromancer waved a hand, her bejewelled wrist making a gentle tinkling sound. “What would be the point?”

When Xavier had first experienced the Tower of Champions, he’d thought the people and beasts that he’d faced were not real. He’d thought they were enemies created by the System—until he had met Queen Alastea and Adviser Kalren. They had set him straight, telling him about the multiverse. Something he still struggled to wrap his head around.

Knowing that what lay on each floor of the Tower of Champions was real had changed his approach. Instead of simply trying to wring as much power from each floor with no thought to who died in the process, he had tried to save those who needed his help while still pushing forward.

It had worked—better than he’d expected.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

But the burden of that knowledge had weighed on him. Did he want further knowledge of dungeons?

I always want to know.

“Are you real?” Xavier asked.

The Great Romalda Heralda threw her head back and released a hearty laugh—one that almost sounded as though it came from someone alive. “What an odd question to ask. Of course I am real!”

There was something strange about standing there, feeling completely at ease in a chamber full of the shambling undead, while his party tore their way through them with all their might. Part of him wished he was having this conversation under different circumstances.

“What did you mean, when you said this wasn’t what the System promised?”

The necromancer looked at him. She no longer seemed afraid, but the hopelessness in her eyes persisted. “You really know nothing, do you?” Romalda sighed, bent her head. “I am real, but I am also dead—and I don’t mean because I’m a necromancer.”

Xavier frowned. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

Romalda baulked. “I don’t have to explain a damned thing to you!” Some of the strength returned to the necromancer’s voice. The strength of a Denizen who commanded a legion that made her far stronger than a normal Level 40 could ever be, and a thousand times prouder. She raised her arms, holding her skull-topped bone staff high above her head. “I am the Great Romalda Heralda!”

The necromancer sighed, deflating completely. Her shoulders drooped first, then her arms dropped to her side. She looked small sitting on her throne. “Or I was.” She waved a hand. “Before all this.”

Xavier’s interest was piqued. It had been since the moment the woman had mentioned the System. He pulled a trick he’d been wanting to do for a while and summoned a chair from his Storage Ring. It was an expensive-looking chair, one he’d picked up from the leader of the invaders’ camp. He placed it on the platform in front of the necromancer’s throne, then sat down.

The only noise was that of the fighting behind him. The necromancer looked at him. As she raised her eyebrows, he noticed they’d been painted on, which made him wonder if her hair was real.

“The System. What did it promise you?” Xavier didn’t want to threaten this woman. And what could he threaten her with? He already had to kill her, something he was trying not to be conflicted about, as it would most certainly be in cold blood.

Romalda looked up at the ceiling. The way she did it was reminiscent of how Sam had done the same when he’d been worried about something he wished to tell Xavier. “Fine. I’ll tell you. Only because I don’t know what else the System can do for me.”

Xavier leant forward in his chair.

“When I died, I was B Grade.”

Xavier almost fell off his chair. If his stats were any lower, he likely would have. Good thing he wasn’t drinking anything. “You… What? B Grade?” He shook his head in utter disbelief. The necromancer’s lips quirked up at the sides, just a fraction, clearly enjoying his shock.

“Yes. It took me…” Romalda stared off into the distance. “More years than I remember, and more sacrifices than I care to think about.”

Xavier lowered his head. Part of him wanted to ask what she meant. Wanted to open this woman’s mind and swim in her memories. How long must she have lived to reach B Grade?

“I received a boon from the System. Something that I thought was… unique. The chance to be reborn and retain my memories.”

“Reborn?” Xavier’s brow knitted. “Reincarnation?”

The woman nodded. “Not as uncommon as you might think.” She bent her head. “The boon said I could gain considerable power in my new life if I managed to… overcome my situation.” She opened her arms. “I’d always been afraid of death. That’s why I became what I became—to stave it off as long as I could. Having a contingency plan in case I died… only seemed logical. Little did I know that this was the situation the System had in mind!”

“A dungeon can be overcome by those who reside within it?” Xavier asked.

“Oh yes. If the inhabitants of a dungeon grow strong enough, they can break through their bonds.”

Xavier peered up at the ceiling, a thought occurring to him—an insane one. The System is watching. He wondered what it might do if he suggested his thought to the woman.

“What happens when I kill you?”

When, Romalda mouthed. She sighed. “I die again, and the dungeon starts over.”

“Will you remember?”

“Yes—I’ll remember.”

Xavier frowned. “What… if I harvest your soul?”

The necromancer’s eyes widened. “Reaper,” she breathed, taking in his robes and Charon’s Scythe in a new light. She shook her head. Seemed to compose herself. “I remember wondering a similar thing. In my youth, I took a wraith outside of a dungeon, and when I returned to the dungeon, the soul of the one I took it from was still there—a perfect copy.”

“A clone?”

“No. I do not think so.”

Xavier opened his mouth—

“Do not ask me how! May as well ask how the System works in the first place! You think I have these answers? If I could answer these things I’d know how to get out of this mess!”

Xavier had more questions. He glanced over his shoulder and was surprised his party was already a quarter of the way through the zombie cleanup. “I thought dungeons were like tower floors,” Xavier muttered. “The same every time.”

“Dungeons change and shift and grow in strength. The inhabitants can gain levels as they kill entrants.” She dipped her head back. “And sometimes, they can break free.” Romalda waved a hand at him. “But you’re too strong. This world, I thought it was newly integrated. How are you like this?”

Xavier smiled. That wasn’t an answer he was going to give. “I have a proposition for you, the Great Romalda Heralda.”

The necromancer narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you know how old I am compared to you?” She looked him up and down, smirked. “Although—”

Xavier raised a swift hand and actually blushed. “That’s not the kind of proposition I meant!”

Romalda wilted back in her throne and flicked a hand at him. “Carry on.”

“As you can tell, I’m new to the Greater Universe.”

“Really?” Romalda said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Xavier frowned. The look he gave her made her shrivel. “If you tie yourself to me, to Earth, for… a hundred years, I will help free you from this place.”

The necromancer’s face lit up. For a moment, she no longer looked undead. Then she wilted once more. “Dungeon inhabitants can’t enter contracts.”

Xavier tilted his chin up, wondering if she was lying. “Then I’ll free you first, and if you don’t enter the contract outside the dungeon… your death will be final.”

A part of Xavier was surprised he was even saying these words. They didn’t sound like him. Not one bit. But this woman… she’d been a necromancer. A B Grade necromancer. Unless she was lying, and he saw no reason for her to. The way she talked about sacrifice, the way she spoke to them when they entered her throne room…

The Greater Universe had been pushing him toward greater violence since the moment he’d been integrated into it, and while wanton killing would never be a part of him, perhaps there were some aspects of this new reality he should finally embrace.

And this woman could hardly be called an innocent.

Besides, he was sure that she would go for it. Sure that he wouldn’t have to live up to his threat. Even so, he wouldn’t have made it if he weren’t willing to.

The Great Romalda Heralda, a former B Grade Denizen if the woman could be believed, reached a bony hand out of one of the sleeves in her voluminous robes. She gripped his hand with long fingers and shook. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her gaze flicked up to the ceiling. “But I’m not sure the System is going to like this.”

Xavier smiled. “One way to find out,” he said, thinking, it’s already watching me anyway.