Miles sighed. “Alright, maybe I am a little under-leveled.”

Hyperion nodded. “Then we should go back and let someone else handle it.”

“No way,” Miles said stubbornly. “I found it. It’s my dungeon.”

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “Your dungeon?”

“Well, metaphorically,” Miles muttered.

Hyperion shrugged. “If you’re that determined, I’ll go in with you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Miles hesitated. “System, roll for whether it’s a good idea to enter this dungeon with Hyperion.”

“Rolling for tactical synergy… Result: 16. Entering with Hyperion improves your survival chances significantly.”

“Alright,” Miles said finally. “But if you start acting suspicious, I’m rolling you right out of my life.”

Hyperion smirked. “You and your mysterious dice.”

As they prepared to enter, a group of three adventurers lingered nearby, overhearing their conversation. The leader, a wiry man with shifty eyes, whispered to his companions.

“Did you hear that? A new dungeon. That kind of discovery could be worth a fortune.”

One of the companions, a burly woman with a chipped axe, frowned. “But they said it’s high-level.”

“And you think they’ll get all the loot for themselves?” the leader hissed. “That fancy-looking guy will probably handle all the hard stuff. We just have to follow them and swoop in at the right moment.”

The third member, a nervous-looking mage, whispered, “I don’t know... What if we’re not strong enough?”

“Shut up and follow my lead,” the leader said.

Miles noticed the group loitering and whispered to Hyperion, “We’re being watched.”

Hyperion glanced over casually. “Amateurs. Don’t worry about them.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. They’ll either chicken out or get themselves killed before they can cause us any trouble.”

“Rolling for encounter likelihood… Result: 17. Expect trouble.”

Miles groaned. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound reassuring.”

The moment they stepped inside, Miles felt a chill run down his spine. The air was damp and cold, and the flickering light from the dungeon crystals cast eerie shadows on the walls.

“System, analyze the area,” Miles whispered.

“Scanning… Hostile entities detected. Probability of ambush: High.”

“Fantastic,” Miles muttered.

Hyperion unsheathed a sleek black sword, its blade glowing faintly. “Stick close to me. I’ll handle the big stuff. You… uh… just don’t die.”

“Wow, inspiring,” Miles said dryly.

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As they ventured deeper, the dungeon revealed its dangers. Packs of shadow wolves lunged at them from the darkness, only to be swiftly dispatched by Hyperion’s blade. Miles, armed with a dagger, mostly flailed around in the background, occasionally landing a lucky hit.

“Rolling for combat effectiveness… Result: 6. Your contribution is minimal.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Miles muttered.

“Are you always this chatty with yourself?” Hyperion asked, slicing through another wolf.

Miles huffed. “Maybe.”

Unbeknownst to the pair, the trio of adventurers had followed them inside. They hung back, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

“This is perfect,” the leader whispered. “That guy with the sword is doing all the work. We’ll just let them clear the way and then take the spoils.”

The mage fidgeted nervously. “I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Quiet,” the leader snapped.

Miles glanced over his shoulder, spotting movement in the shadows. “System, roll for sneak detection.”

“Rolling… Result: 15. You sense something off.”

Miles nudged Hyperion. “We’ve got company.”

Hyperion sighed. “I told you not to worry about them.”

“Yeah, well, they’re in here now. What if they mess something up and we all die?”

Hyperion smirked. “Then I’ll just have to save your life. Again.”

Miles rolled his eyes. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

The greedy trio made their move as Miles and Hyperion approached a treasure chest guarded by a massive stone golem.

“Hey! Step aside!” the leader shouted, brandishing a sword.

Hyperion raised an eyebrow. “You realize that thing is about to pulverize you, right?”

“We’ll handle it,” the leader sneered.

Miles shook his head. “System, roll for intelligence. Do they have any?”

“Rolling… Result: 3. Their intellect is woefully inadequate.”

Hyperion sighed. “You idiots are going to get yourselves killed.”

“Stay out of our way!” the leader barked, charging at the golem.

It took all of three seconds for the golem to swat him into a wall like a fly.

Miles winced. “Yeah, saw that coming.”

Hyperion dispatched the golem with a few precise strikes, turning to the remaining adventurers. “Leave. Now.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Miles smirked. “You know, for a guy who says he’s here to protect me, you’re awfully good at scaring people off.”

Hyperion grinned. “Sometimes, scaring people is the best protection.”

As they continued deeper into the dungeon, Miles couldn’t shake the feeling that this adventure was only just beginning—and that Hyperion, for all his charm and power, was still a mystery he hadn’t fully unraveled.

______

As Miles and Hyperion ventured deeper into the dungeon, the glowing walls and ominous shadows seemed to close in on them. Hyperion moved with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times, slicing through packs of monsters like they were made of butter. Miles, on the other hand, flailed around with his dagger, panting as he tried to keep up.

"System," Miles whispered, "roll for usefulness in battle."

"Rolling… Result: 4. You are slightly more useful than a rock, but only just."

“Wow, thanks for the pep talk,” Miles muttered.

“You’re mumbling to yourself again,” Hyperion called over his shoulder, cutting down another shadow wolf.

Miles groaned. “It’s either that or acknowledge that I’m a walking liability right now.”

Hyperion paused, turning to look at him. “Walking’s generous. You’ve tripped at least three times in the last five minutes.”

“Hey! Those roots came out of nowhere!”

“Correction: The roots were stationary. You walked into them. Twice.”

Miles glared at the air around him. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Hyperion smirked. “Look, most people are liabilities when they travel with me. Don’t take it personally. I’m used to it.”

Miles frowned. “Yeah, well, I didn’t sign up to be dead weight.”

Hyperion sheathed his sword for a moment and crossed his arms. “Listen, kid—"

“I’m not a kid!”

“—fine, listen, barely-not-a-kid, everyone has their own strengths. Sure, you’re not exactly holding your own in a fight right now, but you’ve got potential. And let’s not forget your insane luck. Do you have any idea how many dungeons go undiscovered for years? You’re like a walking four-leaf clover.”

“More like a walking disaster,” Miles muttered.

Hyperion shook his head. “You’ve got value, Miles. You might not see it yet, but one day, you’ll find the thing you’re great at. And when you do, people will stop underestimating you. Including yourself.”

Miles blinked, caught off guard. “That’s... surprisingly nice of you to say.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Hyperion said with a grin, turning back to the path ahead. “Now, let’s move. I’m not here to babysit your existential crisis.”

“Hyperion is right. Statistically, you will find your niche eventually. Assuming you survive long enough to discover it.”

“Wow, you guys really know how to make a guy feel special,” Miles deadpanned, trudging after Hyperion.