"Be careful, Walter. I got promoted today, so we're entering a deeper dungeon. Monsters will certainly spawn."

"You should have mentioned it. We could have celebrated," Walter complained. But, his voice trailed off after he noticed her stare.

Under Elin's steadfast gaze, the seriousness of the situation weighed on Walter.

He cleared his throat, "Got it."

This dungeon's entrance looked somewhat more proper. One of the dungeon's denizens stacked stones in an arc to simulate a door. Passed the door, a staircase led into the earth.

Unlike the single-chamber dungeons before, this one sounded and smelled different. The extensiveness of the hollow earth felt like an abandoned mall or a night alley. Stale air drifted from the entrance, with the odor of old dirt and dried blood. Was that dripping water? Wait, someone, no something, shuffled around.

She drew her sword, and Walter copied her.

The iron suddenly felt unreliable in his hands. Because he wasn't an expert, he stayed silent on their quality, and let Elin dismiss his concerns about their cheapness. Ultimately, she was right, they did not have the money for well-worked steel. But was it really right? He wore nearly three months' worth of coin while she crept forward with a weapon that would quickly rust in the rain.

She called me a man earlier. I should speak up.

"We're getting better weapons after this," he whispered.

"Fine, but follow quietly," she hissed.

The first chamber was empty. The sunlight from the stairs didn't penetrate further into the dungeon. They could choose between two doors to delve deeper, both pitch black.

Another noise slinked into his awareness, a faint creak. Elin looked back at him as if he were making it. He shrugged in confusion. Wait? Am I sinking? When he looked down, the dirt floor he stood on sagged, bending like a trampoline losing its elasticity.

"What the hell?"

"Walter, move!"

When the support beam under his feet cracked, revealing a pitfall trap, he realized, with the calmness of a person mid-wreck, why this happened to him and not Elin. She was lighter. He weighed more, wore a gambeson, and carried a supplier's pack.

Somehow he landed safely, even though the wind rushed out of him. The falling sticks and dirt from above fell, luckily enough, in a way not to skewer him.

He looked up to see Elin calling to him from over the edge of the pit.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, "Whatever dug this hole didn't put spikes in it."

"Don't talk like that! Thank Gaia, you're okay," she muttered, then snapped, "Didn't I tell you to be careful?"

"How was I supposed to know the ground was going to come out from under me? I mean, I should have guessed, what with all the bizarreness going on."

Elin snorted a laugh and covered her face. When she finished repressing her laughter, she extended her hand, "I'll help you climb out."

At the moment Walter thought their share of bad luck for the day passed, something collided into him and knocked him over. The reason the pit lacked spikes: the digger waited to ambush in it.

A green face with jaundiced eyes filled his sight. He struggled not to panic and remembered the encounter, and Walter wrestled the goblin by the wrists. History repeats, it seems.

No, this isn't near Elin's power.

With a twist, Walter pinned the goblin underneath him. It clawed and bit, but neither tooth nor claw could find purchase against the canvas of his gambeson. All of its attacks slid off of him.

Walter wanted to reach for his sword, but it was outside his grasp. Each time he released one of the monster's wrists, the attacks intensified. What else do I have going for me? I'm heavy enough to smother it. No, wait. I have plenty of weapons in this pit with me.

He snatched one of the broken sticks, positioned the pointy end on the goblin's chest, and dropped his weight on it. Although the canvas wasn't going to give, the goblin's body was sturdier than he expected. The stick sank slowly.

The goblin struggled, it slapped the stick and tried to push it out. It simply lacked the strength. Walter convinced himself to ignore the revulsion. If I let it up, it'll just do the same to me. After he dug his feet into the mud, Walter gave a shout and launched himself forward. The stake pierced through the monster.

It's arms and fingers curled, like a dying spider, and shivered one last time. It died at the bottom of its own trap. What a dreadful end.

Walter panted. His body shook from the adrenaline. Green grease, the goblin's blood, covered his hands. Its consistency thickened from oil to Crisco on contact with the air. The rational part of his brain agreed goblin blood could be useful. He chuckled to himself, to avoid cussing.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"Elin?"

He looked up to see her looking down. Her face was pale and covered with beads of sweat, the same as when she used her warrior prowess during their first battle together.

"You had a fight up there?"

She nodded, "I would have come down to help, but when I finished, so did you, and--"

"No," Walter said, "It's perfectly fine. I understand. I won anyway."

"That you did."

He tossed the supplier's pack, his sword, and the gloves, too slick to climb with, out of the hole. Elin hoisted him out with a grunt.

Goblins rushed her from the two doorways, but they also ambushed from the outside. Clever little shits. He imagined how fast she must have been fighting, considering it didn't take long to kill the one in the pit. Half a dozen dead goblins lay in pools of their own greasy blood.

"You mentioned getting a new sword?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?"

She held up hers. It was broke in half. "I got carried away."

"Take mine, I didn't even use it. We're not checking out any more dungeons, right?"

"Right, we made enough money for a little while."

He nodded, "Okay, let's check out that shop again. The one with the dwarf and elf."

"Walter?"

"Yes?"

"We have to carry the monsters back, and we need to make it back before the end of our itinerary. If we leave them here, then someone else might claim them."

Walter hung his head, "We're not making multiple trips."

He removed a neatly coiled rope from the pack, wrapped with a wire. The wire's ends were joined with solder and stamped with the Adventurer's Guild insignia. Breaking the solder indicated he purchased the rope.

Walter built a frame resembling an "A" and tied the bodies to it.

"I see," Elin watched him finish setting up the frame and then slung the supplier's pack on her back, "That's pretty clever."

"How did you get the monsters to town?"

"I didn't. As a knight, I was part of the temple, or I worked with the military, and not the guilds. Usually, the guild purchased the rights to monster harvesting and cleared the battlefields for us. All I had to do was fight them."

"What a sheltered life," Playful sarcasm peppered Walter's tone.

Elin smiled, "Hey, it's a first for me, too."

"Can we get scanned at your temple? For free, I mean?"

"Of course. I'll get Favie to arrange an appointment with an oracle. Why?"

"Well, I want to make sure my level is still zero after this. It's a long shot, I think, but I'll take anything."

----------------------------------------

Walter's relief washed over him when he finally dropped the frame. Lucy counted the goblins and screwed up her face.

"Seven? The reports do not indicate that dungeon spawns monsters that frequently."

She's not even going to greet us. Straight to business. We could have died. Well, me.

"Maybe the dungeon heart sped up?" Elin said. She placed the supplier's pack on the counter, "We bought a rope, by the way."

"I'll inventory the pack and bill you as soon as we get the goblins cleared up. As for the number of them, I'm very sorry. This happens from time-to-time. It's unlikely the heart accelerated its progress, what probably happened is sandbagging."

"Sandbagging?" Walter asked.

"Sometimes adventurers misreport their harvests and sell to the black market. I'll make sure to investigate."

----------------------------------------

Walter tilted his head back to view the Temple of the Witness. It was as grandiose as last time. Elin practically skipped.

"Lil sis!"

"I swear, by Menrva's Books, if you scoop me up... Favie, I said, don't!"

This time Brother Favian, the bear-sized man, ambushed his little sister on the temple steps. He performed the same bearhug and dance, hopping foot to foot while he ignored her pleas for breath.

He stopped when he noticed Walter.

"Oh, it's your lover. He might get mad."

"Shut up! Put me down, you oaf!"

Elin's forehead connected with Brother Favian's nose. Surprised, he dropped her, then roared with laughter. He didn't even look injured. 7 HP really made the difference.

"That one had some spice in it. I actually felt it. Are you working out?"

"Idiot!"

"Wait," Brother Favian said, and he cupped his chin, "If you two get married, wouldn't this make him my brother-in-law? Should I hug him, too?"

Oh, shit. I might die here.

Elin snatched his ear, "Will you be serious, dear brother?"

Really, she looked more like she hung off his ear, rather than her dragging him.

"Fine, fine, fine."

Brother Favian escorted the two of them through the temple. His office, such as it was, was in the back, yet he passed it and went further.

"Alright, brother-in-law--"

--Elin clenched her fists and puffed up her cheeks--

"--I'm obligated to tell you to behave yourself in there. It's one thing to joke around, but meeting an oracle requires decorum. Alright?"

"Yeah, no problem," Walter said. You're the only one lacking decorum, though?

"Sis, you go in first and explain the situation. I'd like a word with your boyfriend."

Elin glanced between her brother and Walter several times, "Fine. If you talk to him or grab him, at all, you die."

"I'll be silent and keep my hands to myself, on my honor as a member of the church."

She stared at her brother a moment, "I'll be right back, Walter," and then stepped through the double doors leading to the oracle's chamber.

Brother Favian's palm landed on Walter's shoulder, "So, let's have a talk."

Of freaking course.

Favian removed a pipe from his pocket and stared at it a moment. While he studied it, he spoke, "This pipe belonged to our father. I don't like smoking, it helps me remember him. Wait, let me get something out of the way, first. I know the two of you are staying in the same room at the Pilgrim's Folly, and there's a lot of gossip flying around the pews. I can work out most of the details. If she threw away her paladin-hood for you, then I'll respect that as her brother. I don't get why you, honestly. I guess I don't have to. What I'm saying is, I'm a stand-in for our father. If you two need help, then let me know. Just don't do something that'll make me have to crush you like a bug."

"It's been tough for her," Walter said, "So thanks. Well, thanks for everything minus the killing me part."

Brother Favian started to roar with laughter, then abruptly stopped when he heard Elin yell from the chamber.

"What do you mean, I'm level 25?!"