In the weightless blackness that came with being transported, Nikola made a plan.

She had to assume that everyone would turn bloodthirsty when the training wheels of the game world came off; as soon as they landed in the Dungeon, they were killable. Permanently.

So when they touched down, she was going to grab Luke by his flimsy red cape and yank him behind her.

Then, she was going to seek out the most powerful-looking non-attackers and defend them, hopefully winning her a few allies she could count on for the rest of the excursion.

Nikola felt the bottoms of her shoes pressing against something, and she and the other Players spawned inside the fancy castle, the same oversized bricks lining the insides that had been displayed on the outside.

The world had only half-summoned them when she spotted the end of Luke's red cape and balled it in her hand, tugging it backward. "Get behind me and stay there," she commanded in the ear that wasn't even fully formed yet.

She and Luke were lucky, in that they had spawned on the outskirts of the rapidly crowding room.

But even that wasn't enough to save them from the danger. The tip of a sword nicked Luke's chin enough that red dotted his shirt, just as he started to back away to get behind her.

The person holding the sword advanced further. Everything was moving too fast for her to look around the room or gather much info, except that the attacker had already swung and would thus have to stop their blade's momentum, leaving her a short window to strike.

The Butcher put a foot behind her and used her body weight to crush her shoulder into the sword-wielder's center mass. They crumpled like a piece of paper under the force, puffing out a 'bah!' and clutching their stomach.

She slammed the butt of her Cleaver's handle into their forehead and they crashed into the ground, bowling over a couple others that were encroaching on their space in the process.

The modicum of space between her and the other Players gave her a precious second to look around.

Weapons of all kinds were swinging, stabbing and smacking into flesh.

Not far from her, two of the people from the golden-armoured group were being backed into a corner.

This was her chance.

Nikola didn't have time to tell Luke, so she leapt backward and caught the fluttering end of his cape out of the air.

A party of five was forming a perimeter around them, one settling into the back and nocking an arrow.

She drew the symbol that initiated her forward dash and Luke was catapulted forward with her.

[Crunch].

He hollered as he was pulled off his feet and into the air.

"Stab as many of them as you can," Nikola ordered as she let go of the fabric and aimed him at the archer.

She collided with the person at the front of the group, wasting no time in driving her [Cleaver]'s axe-like edge into the arm that was holding their weapon.

Their arm was summarily [Crippled], the owner of said arm shrieking in terror as the hilt of their sword went from being nestled in their palm to clanging against the floor in a split second.

Upon seeing that three of them were still left, a fragment of a memory asserted itself in the Butcher's mind. Hundreds of thousands of images of her fighting groups of players just like this one flooded into her brain, along with what she was doing to hold her own against them.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

A skill. A skill that she had. She listened to her instincts and carved the symbol that was sticking out from the fog in her mind; a simple diagonal slash that only worked after her initial [Crunch] had been performed.

A diagonal line of light glowed in the sky as her [Crunching Cleave] took over and propelled her toward the next closest one in their group, where she brought her Cleaver down on their shoulder with a Crunch.

But this time, it didn't seem like they were [Crippled]. They melted beneath the force, but their bones remained intact.

She tried to draw the line in the sky again, but this time the gesture did nothing.

Huh. So her [Crunching Cleave] would only work if she also [Crippled] the enemies. She noted that down in her memory banks.

Luke slammed into the Archer and she yelped and lost her footing, her bow sproinging from her grip and into the air.

Her navy-haired party member got his bearings and drew what looked like a sword with the tip of his blade.

Was this the [Sword Dash] she'd seen nestled in his [Character Info] back at the inn?

He surged forward, his weapon pointed outward, and caught the third member in the crook at the bottom of their back.

But the leather armour laid over their spine offered ample protection, and they whirled around to face them both with not even a peep, not seeming wounded in the least.

It was three against two.

Nikola tried to use her [Crunch] skill again, but it returned nothing but a sad ding of rejection.

Their ambush had only partially worked.

Two of the three that were still standing started drawing in the air with just their fingers, which couldn't mean anything good; the combination of being unarmed and their robes probably meant they were mages.

She couldn't allow them to finish casting. To her knowledge, her gamified skills were all used up, but the item in her hand was still a trusty and reliable tool.

She slashed at them horizontally, breaking their skin and the fabric of their robes. One still managed to loose a fireball her way, dry but sweltering as it hit her front full on.

Her vision filled with red as it passed over her, singing the white end of her shirt dress as it crawled around her in many little trails of heat and continued on.

A blade of some kind wedged into her hip, making her gasp aloud; more in shock than pain.

Luke pulled his sword back and slashed the two mages, finishing off the meager vitality that remained within them; they burst into technicolour squares as his swing split them cleanly in half.

Nikola reached out with her off hand and punched the nose of the one who was close enough to have hit her in melee.

Blood began to pour from it instantly, and she followed it up with a swift kick to their groin.

And the scuffle was over, for now. The final member of the opposing party fell to their ass, face contorted in sheer pain as they held their prized jewels.

Her lungs were burning, and the hair had been magically removed from her arms. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with her laboured breathing. Her dress had been blackened, and a trickle of red was staining the cloth where her skin had been pierced.

But the two donning gold were looking at her wide-eyed, especially since she didn't try to punctuate her tirade with their lives.

Several other tiny, clustered battles that had raged on in the background were ending, the castle floor splattered with gore and piles of bloodied Coppers and Silvers.

"I have ended the lives of those who sought to kill you," Nikola breathed and glanced at Luke, "and he helped too. You are looking for guidance; join us and have a chance at armour even better than what you are wearing now."