“What are we going to do?” Elk asked as we moved quickly through the corridors. We weren’t exactly running—just in case it was a trap.

“About what?” I asked, slightly out of breath.

“Are we going to help them?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Do you want to help whoever’s there, even if they’re one of your kind?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Elk replied, coming to an abrupt stop. I had to backtrack a few steps to face him again.

“What?!”

“We should decide now. If they’re humans, are we going to help?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you an outcast as well?” Elk asked, clearly struggling to grasp the intricacies of human society.

“I was, but we generally help each other. The safest bet would be to help.”

“Even after what that other guy did?”

That question gnawed at me. He had a damn good point. I’d trusted Max, and the payoff had been disastrous. But I’d also trusted Elk, and so far, that was working out just fine.

Despite the red of his skin, the small horns, hooves, bent knees and his strange mix of alien and British accents, Elk felt pretty human to me.

“If it’s one of your kind, we’ll be more cautious before approaching. If it’s one of mine, we’ll be more likely to help.”

“And if it’s one of the others?”

“We’ll figure it out. We’re wasting too much time.”

I finished as the sound of howls of pain and the clash of weapons against metal and flesh echoed through the tower’s tunnels.

After a couple of minutes of quick strides, we got close enough to identify the sounds.

A feminine voice cursed, her accent unfamiliar, while some creature grunted mid-attack. Another feminine voice called out from a different point in the tunnel.

I immediately imagined elves battling hobgoblins, and when we turned the corner, my suspicions were confirmed.

Elk stopped a few steps ahead of me, extending his arm to block my path.

The tunnel ahead widened, the walls stretching further apart to form an almost circular space.

On one side, a woman with braided hair and olive skin held an oversized shield in her left hand while desperately trying to lift another woman to her feet.

Blood soaked the second woman’s shiny armor, and despite her efforts to stand, the weight of her heavy white armor kept pulling her to the ground.

I looked into their eyes, and recognition hit me like a boulder.

Before deciding what to do, I scanned the rest of the room. In the opposite corner, a large hobgoblin stood half-kneeling, half-standing, with a bow in hand, firing arrows one after another in their direction.

Its right leg was clearly wounded, but that didn’t stop it from shooting. Nearby, other hobgoblins lay dead on the ground—some with their faces smashed, others with arrows piercing their eyes or hearts.

Between each arrow, the hobgoblin whistled toward the tunnel.

“I know her. Let’s help,” I told Elk, not waiting for an answer.

I conjured a lightning bolt and sent it flying toward the hobgoblin, but it missed its mark.

Hearing the thunder and seeing the bolt, the creature instinctively turned toward us, just in time to see Elk’s fireball streaking toward its face.

The impact sent the hobgoblin crashing to the ground, its limbs thrashing as it desperately tried, in vain, to extinguish the flames.

I rushed forward and finished it with a quick slice of my dagger.

Behind me, I heard the giant shield crash to the ground and the human woman speaking,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll figure it out.”

Her tone betrayed her lack of conviction, but I didn’t have time to assess the situation.

We quickly discovered who the hobgoblin had been calling.

From an adjacent corridor, the sound of fast footsteps echoed, accompanied by the yelps of animals closing in.

I stepped forward, Elk by my side, shielding the duo leaning against the wall.

It didn’t take long for the animals to appear.

With long legs and elongated bodies, the creatures stood tall on four legs, howling as their sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, saliva dripping from the corners of their mouths.

At first glance, they resembled coyotes, but their size and the murderous, intelligent gleam in their eyes told a different story. These beasts were the size of Saint Bernards, as strong but twice as fast.

Their heads hovered close to the ground as they studied us, calculating the perfect moment to strike.

No matter how many points I had in speed, I knew we couldn’t outpace them. Engaging them with daggers alone, without some kind of leverage, would be suicide.

An idea flashed in my mind—a simple one, but with the right execution, it could work.

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“Can you make an illusion of your fire serpent?” I asked through gritted teeth, trying not to move.

“I can try,” Elk replied, shifting only his eyes.

He already had his staff in hand. As it began to glow at the tip, the creatures watched with curiosity, their muscles tensing as if preparing to attack.

Instead, they hesitated, their keen eyes fixed on the white smoke emerging from Elk’s staff, which twisted and coalesced into the form of a fire snake.

At that moment, the beasts stepped back. They continued howling, their bloodlust undiminished, but now tinged with fear.

“Now do a real one,” I added.

Elk’s eyebrows rose, and I could almost see the proverbial lightbulb flicker above his head.

“I see what you’re doing,” he said, waving his staff again.

The creatures remained focused on the false snake, its flaming body writhing hypnotically as it slithered slowly toward them.

When Elk conjured the real serpent, it moved faster, sliding directly toward the two wolf-like creatures.

The illusion leapt at the beast on the left, which spun in a full circle, trying to dodge the ethereal figure. Confused, it snarled and snapped at the snake, its intelligent eyes slowly piecing things together.

Just as it looked up, preparing to strike us, the real fire serpent struck.

The flaming snake coiled around its neck, suffocating and burning its flesh.

A few embers from the serpent flew toward the second beast. As if the god of coyotes had whispered in its ear, the creature bolted, whimpering like an abandoned pup as it fled down the tunnels, leaving its companion to die.

Ding!

Congratulations! You have slain Hobgoblin F7.

Congratulations! You have slain Warg F6.

“Well done, Elk,” I breathed heavily and patted his shoulder. He replied with a smile.

“It was your idea.”

I didn’t argue. I was quickly realizing Elk didn’t take compliments easily and always tried to deflect them, giving credit to others. I’d known people like that on Earth, and while I wished he’d recognize his own merits, it wasn’t the worst flaw someone could have.

We moved toward the duo behind us, keeping our eyes open for any lurking creatures.

The woman with braided hair pressed a piece of cloth against the other’s stomach. The fabric had lost all its color, now soaked in crimson, blending with the armor and skin beneath.

I approached them, crouching. The woman tending to the other noticed me and almost jumped to her feet.

“Easy,” I said as calmly as I could, raising both hands in the air.

“I thought you knew her,” Elk interjected from beside me.

“I do,” I replied, pointing to the second figure. How could I forget her?

Her dark, slim hair, pale face, purple lips, and big yellow eyes were unmistakable. But instead of the calm reassurance I’d seen in her before, her eyes now radiated pain. She grimaced with the shadow of death looming over her, and I couldn’t blame her.

“You don’t have potions?” I asked the olive-skinned woman.

She shook her head. “We don’t. We used them on the first floor.”

Her voice was dry, her body trembling under the weight of urgency. She was probably shaking more than the elf she was trying to save.

“You still have yours, Elk?”

“I don’t.”

“So, I’ll give her mine. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, mate. Go ahead.” I raised one eyebrow, seeing he had adopted the ‘mate’, but kept my attention on the task at hand.

I pulled a small potion from my inventory and let the droplets fall one by one into the elf’s already half-open mouth.

Slowly but surely, life seemed to return to her. The other woman removed the cloth, and we watched as the wound visibly closed before our eyes.

The elf drew a labored breath, one that could’ve come from a newborn, and blinked forcefully.

“You,” she said after licking her dry lips. She adjusted herself, leaning against the wall and grimacing as she tried to sit without using one of her hands.

“Be careful. These potions aren’t as effective with major wounds. You need to take it easy—there might still be internal bleeding.” I moved a hand toward her, trying to sound reasonable. Part of me expected her to pull away, but instead, she raised a hand toward me and smiled—a gentle smile, like the one she’d given me when we first met.

“There’s nothing broken inside me, Zach,” she said, her voice calm, completely opposite to the despair I’d seen in her eyes moments ago. “One bone is cracked, but other than that, it’s just bruises.”

“And how do you know my name?”

“The same way I know I’m not internally wounded, or how I knew I’d survive this sad encounter. The wind whispered it to me.”

Now that she’d spoken more, I finally placed her accent. She sounded Spanish, and I couldn’t think of anything more fitting.

“Like magic?” I asked.

“Like magic,” she replied softly.

“Who is this man, exactly, Tress?” the other woman asked, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance that she was trying hard to hide. “I’m sorry for being rude—you just saved my friend’s life—but we need to be careful.”

She turned her gaze to me now, her tone calmer, though her body shifted protectively between me and the elf like the enormous shield I’d seen her wield earlier.

“My name is Zach. I’m from America, like you,” I said, placing a hand over my heart. I had recognized her Texan accent, and that seemed to calm her a little. “I’m a law firm intern, and this is my friend Elk.”

She glanced at Elk, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her senses were sharp, and she was clearly cautious.

“So, you two are the ones with all the fancy titles. You’re not what I pictured,” she said, then cast a second look at Tress, who was still smiling at me. “I wasn’t expecting that Russian blond midget to stab Tress in the belly and flee, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“What?” I asked, leaning forward, feeling Elk’s hand on my shoulder. I must’ve sounded a little too eager, because the woman shifted defensively. “I’m sorry, what did you say about a Russian?”

“A guy jumped us out of nowhere. Said he was looking for someone, and then we were attacked by those Lord of the Rings-looking creatures. When he saw Tress was a Myriad, he stabbed her and fled. I tried to follow him, but ultimately, I had to choose between fighting him and helping Tress.”

“And he was alone? There wasn’t a woman with him?”

“No, no woman. Are you all right, dude? I’ll smash your face if you try something funny,” she said, leaning closer to Tress. Her eyes weren’t as threatening as her words.

“I’m sorry. I know this guy—he tried something with me too, but Elk saved my ass,” I said, sighing as I sat on the ground.

“When he wounded me… his heart was so cold,” Tress muttered, her voice distant as her eyes wandered somewhere I couldn’t follow.

“Is your friend… all right?” the olive-skinned woman asked, glancing at Elk, who didn’t seem offended.

“He’s nice, but I wouldn’t mess with the others of his kin.”

“I know. One of them tried to kill us. If it wasn’t for Tress’s arrows, we’d have been flayed like the poor bastards we found earlier today.”

“Flayed?” My eyes widened as I met Elk’s gaze. He only shrugged.

“Flaying enemies is an old tradition,” Elk replied nonchalantly, his tone devoid of disapproval.

“We should keep going,” I said as I stood, wiping my pants and sighing as my back adjusted to the new position.

“I wonder if we’re close to another safe room. I could use some food,” Elk said thoughtfully, looking in the same direction I was.

I knew how to read a room. The braided woman hadn’t even shared her name with us, and she had every reason to be suspicious. We’d earned a few menacing titles since entering this game, so when Elk mentioned the safe room, I was already planning our next move.

As we were about to start walking, Tress’s faint voice stopped us.

“Wait. We need to stay together.”

“What are you doing?” the other woman asked, shaking Tress’s shoulders.

“Do you believe the wind speaks to me?” Tress asked, locking gazes with the other woman.

“I don’t know. I believe you know things I don’t—or things I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Then trust me. We need to stay together if we want to see another day. It was whispered.”