Milo and Backlebutt approached the boss room.  A glance inside showed Milo that nothing had changed materially from his last visit.  The groupings of dingos had rearranged themselves slightly, but the scene as a whole looked pretty much the same.  

“Do you need a minute?” Milo asked Backlebutt.  The man had been struggling to keep up even the slow pace at which they’d been traveling, and he was clearly in pain.  He nodded reluctantly, lowering himself carefully to the ground and resting his back against the wall.  He gingerly rested his leg straight out in front of him.  

That worked out for Milo.  He could use some time to make preparations, and also for his mana to regenerate up to full.  Just this once, he was letting his pool refill completely so that he would have twenty mana at the start of the boss fight.  

Leaving Backlebutt and most of his gear by the cavern entrance, he searched back through the tunnels with his original backpack from Earth, filling it with throwing stones for Backlebutt.  Once he had enough of those, he returned and deposited them in a pile by the entrance.  Then he went out and got some stones for himself; he’d decided it was now or never for his wrecking ball idea from earlier.  It might come in handy for the boss, might not, but better to be prepared.

He filled the bag until he thought he heard a slight tearing noise, then hastily removed a few of the stones; it wouldn’t do him a lot of good if all of the rocks fell out the bottom of his backpack before he could deliver his payload.  

After finding all the rocks he needed, Milo made sure he had enough rope trailing off of his textbook to tie to the bag’s handle.  When that was done, he tested it by using the book to carry the heavily laden backpack all the way back to the boss room entrance.  He treated it a little roughly, reversing momentum a few times.  He winced when he heard more strained-cloth noises coming from the bag.  He might only get one shot with the wrecking ball.  If that.  

Milo set the bag down and settled next to Backlebutt, who’d been silently watching him approach with the apparatus hovering by his side.  

He needed a few more minutes now to recover the point of mana he’d spent.  It felt awkward to just sit there silently, though, so he turned to Backlebutt.

“Thought of any ideas about how to fight a boss?  Just in general, obviously.  We don’t know what we’re up against yet.”  

Backlebutt glanced at him.  “Fight smart.  Don’t get killed.”  

Milo rolled his eyes.  Smartass.  

“I mean, is there something that’s generally true about all bosses?  Something I need to know, or could maybe use against it?”

“Bosses are stronger,” Backlebutt said simply.  “Harder to kill.  Take a lot of hits and keep going, usually.”

“Have you ever fought a boss before?”

Backlebutt snorted.  “Of course not.  This is my first time in the Descent.  There’s nowhere else to fight a boss.  Not at my level.”  

That reminded Milo of something that had been bothering him.  

“Why this focus on the Descent, and dungeons in general?  Aren’t there creatures to fight that walk the surface?  Couldn’t people just kill those to gain experience, get stronger that way?”

Backlebutt eyed him askance.  “You really know very little of the world, don’t you?  You must be from a very different place indeed.”  He paused, as if deciding what to say.  “There are some creatures, yes.  But they are usually very weak compared to what you find when you enter a dungeon.  You need a strong one to increase your level (cap).  There just aren’t enough to go around, weak or strong.  The nobles control the entrances to every known dungeon below level 20.  A very few people might be able to reach a high enough level to challenge the higher level dungeons, but it would take a long time.”

“Oh.”  That made sense, Milo supposed.  Clever of the nobles to not waste manpower on guarding the higher level dungeons.  If the average peasant was stuck under level 10, guarding a level 30 dungeon was completely unnecessary.  

“Is it…hm.” Milo was missing a word here. Illegal. “Can you be punished for gaining a high level?”

“Not (officially), unless you do it by breaking into a dungeon.  But the nobility don’t like it.  They’ll want to know how you came to grow as strong as you did.  You’ll be watched.”  

“Can they tell?  How strong someone is, I mean.”

“There are skills, but they aren’t common.  You aren’t strong enough to draw much (suspicion) yet.  Over level 5 is unusual for a commoner, but not very remarkable.  10 is (rare), but not unheard of.  If someone finds out you are level 15 or higher, you will draw a lot of unwanted attention.  But so long as you stay away from big cities, no one is likely to find out as long as you are (circumspect).”

Milo nodded thoughtfully.  A cacophony of growls and snarls made him glance through the tunnel’s exit.  It was just some dingos being dingos, fighting over food.  He turned back to Backlebutt.  

“Do you need more time?  My mana is almost full.”

Backlebutt shook his head.  “I don’t think more rest would make a difference at this point.”  

They still held off for another minute or so.  Milo nodded to Backlebutt when the last mana came in, and the two of them rose from the floor in silence.  It felt strange to Milo, having a full mana pool.  It gave him a nagging feeling, like he was forgetting to do something.  He didn’t like it.  

He collected the backpack full of stones from the floor, then eyed the loosely scattered stones intended as Backlebutt’s ammo.  They didn’t have another empty bag; the one holding the rest of their gear would be waiting out here in the tunnel for them while they fought.  

Backlebutt solved the problem simply.  He tucked the hammer he’d been carrying under his belt, kneeling down and using the front of his coat as a pouch which he scooped the stones into.  Milo helped him with the last few once it got to the point that he needed to use two hands to maintain the pouch.  

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They were finally ready.  Technically.  Milo certainly didn’t feel ready.  He was glad there were no dingos right around the entrance.  He took a nervous step forward, very conscious of the fact that he wouldn’t be able to escape once this thing got started.  

Together with Backlebutt, he passed the point where the System had stopped him before.  Surprisingly, there weren’t any messages from the System when they crossed it.  Milo wrinkled his nose immediately; there was a faint, but very noticeable stench that made itself known the second he entered the cavern.  

The dingos, which had previously ignored the humans, were suddenly very aware of them.  In the space of just a couple of seconds, all dingo activity ceased while the dozens of dogs silently studied the two interlopers.  Everything was still.  

“Uh,” Milo said, growing increasingly nervous.  A few at a time had been no trouble, but dozens was another story.  Should he just start blasting them?  They weren’t attacking.  He still didn’t know what the boss even was.  It was probably a good idea to start thinning their numbers, though.  Trying to take on the boss and a bunch of adds at once could be problematic.  

A rumbling chorus of growls started to fill the cavern as the dingos seemed to come to a decision about how they felt toward Milo and Backlebutt.  A few of them edged forward, showing teeth.  

Oh boy.  Here we go.  

He let the backpack full of rocks drop from his shoulders, preparing to spirit himself and Backlebutt away to safety.  He thought he saw a pair of stalagmites that were broad enough to land on top of, close together.  The dingos would have no hope of reaching them up there.  

However, just as Milo was about to spend the mana for Fetch Book, a jarring and unmistakable sound filled the cavern.  

It was the high-pitched, wailing cry of a distressed human baby.  

Oh no.  This is based on the ‘dingo ate my baby’ thing.  Is this like an escort-type event?  Protect the baby from the hordes of dingos?  That would really cramp Milo’s style.  He was all about the hit and run.  Sticking around to keep a baby safe from an army of wild dogs was the job of a tank, not...whatever Milo was.  Ranged DPS, he supposed.  

The dingos were distracted, ears perking up practically as one at the noise, heads turning.  

I need more information.  

“I’m getting a better look,” he told Backlebutt.  “I’ll bring you up too in a second.”

Not waiting for a reply, he activated Fetch Book while the dingos were still distracted, flying himself over to one of the stalagmites.  Glancing around quickly, he saw nothing of note except that blackened opening in the wall he’d noticed when he first found the boss room.  The crying seemed to be coming from that direction.  It was impossible to see inside, however.  

He sent the book and binder back for Backlebutt, who climbed on awkwardly as he did his best to keep his collection of stones from spilling.  He looked decidedly uncomfortable with being whisked around by Milo, but the man was nothing if not practical; there really weren’t any better options for him at the moment.  

Milo flew Backlebutt over and sat him down as carefully as he could on the stalagmite next to his own.  

In retrospect, he probably ought to have taken that one for himself.  It was smaller, more difficult to balance on top of.  With Backlebutt’s leg and all the loose stones, it was going to be almost impossible for him to get into an effective throwing stance.  As it was, some of the stones tumbled to the ground just in transitioning from the books to the stalagmite.  

The dingoes seemed transfixed by the sound of the crying baby.  Many of them were wandering over curiously toward the source of the sound, sniffing at the air.  

I don’t think I want to let them get to the baby...

Milo still had enough time left on Fetch Book that he was able to take himself over to another stalagmite, one that was almost directly across from the dark opening.  From there, he would be able to intercept dingos with his book as they approached the cave.  

Touching down on the stalagmite, he nearly gagged.  The smell here was significantly worse than it was over by the tunnel’s exit.  It seemed to be issuing from the cave.  What kind of conditions was that baby living in?  A part of him wanted to dash in and get it out of there, but the idea of getting anywhere close to the source of the smell was so repugnant that he decided to hold here, at least for now; the baby had survived so far.  

Besides, it was weirdly dark in there, which made him nervous.  There was magic at play keeping it that unnaturally inky black, he was sure.  

The first dingo drew near.  It approached cautiously, probably put off by the smell just as Milo was.  It kept coming, though.  Apparently, dingos just couldn’t resist the lure of a nice, juicy baby.  

The baby’s crying hadn’t ceased since it first rang out, but it had diminished to a pathetic mewling noise.  It was a thin, somewhat eerie noise that somehow managed to permeate the large cavern, echoing around and filling the space.

Several of the dingos were near now, so Milo activated Fetch Book once more and immediately began attacking them.  

They didn’t seem to realize what was going on at first.  One of them squealed as Milo broke its leg ruthlessly before moving on to the others.  He plowed into a second one, smashing it against a rock formation, then drubbed a third straight into the floor with a strike from above.  They finally realized what was attacking them, tracking the blanket-wrapped textbook warily, but there wasn’t a lot they could do to fight back.  One of them actually managed to grab onto the rope dangling off of the book with its teeth, but all that meant was that Milo was able take it for a brief ride before slamming it back down onto the unforgiving cavern floor, where it lay in a heap.  

Things were going pretty well overall, Milo thought.  More of the dingoes kept coming, drawn by the baby’s cry, but any time one of them got too close to the archway, Milo would smash it away with extreme prejudice.  He’d only killed a few outright, but a lot of dingo bodies nevertheless littered the space between him and the arch, battered and broken if not dead.  They couldn’t even retaliate with him perched up high like he was.  

This is gonna be a breeze, he couldn’t help but think to himself.  He immediately regretted it, since that was practically inviting something horrible to happen, but as seconds stretched into a minute, then two minutes, that simply wasn’t the case.  He just kept beating the crap out of dingos until, finally, they stopped coming.  

He looked around after taking down the last one to come near.  There were other dingoes still alive, far away.  They were skulking by the far wall.  That struck Milo as odd; somehow those had resisted the pull of the baby’s cry when all of the others hadn’t.  

Speaking of which, he realized that the baby had finally fallen silent.  Was that a good thing?  The opposite?  He was suddenly worried that one of the dingos had slipped by without his noticing, gobbling down the infant while he was distracted.  A horrid thought.  

But what would that mean?  I lose?  What even is this?  This is such a strange boss fight.  

Suddenly there was a loud thump, causing the cavern to shudder.  Milo looked around warily.  Another thump.  The baby started crying again, louder now.  

Something was definitely happening.  Should he go in, try to snatch the baby?  He glanced back at Backlebutt, who looked on impassively.  No help there.  

He returned his attention to the archway just in time to see, emerging impossibly from the blackness…holy hell.  

That was a big baby boy.