Chapter 19: Dungeoning

Jacques liked to think to himself that he was fairly good at reading people and their intentions. Everyday, he would look around the Guild to find if anyone new made themselves known, and if so, then he would try to figure out why they were adventuring.

Some would say it was to pay off a debt. Others would say they were searching for a sense of thrill in their lives. And others yet have their own miscellaneous reasons. Personally, he fit with the second reason; life was too boring without a sense of danger about, and he could never imagine himself just sitting still in some castle office out there, dealing with paperwork for hours straight.

He, himself, had been adventuring for almost two months by now. His party member Clara’s reasoning was so that she could earn a living for herself after running away from her village out there (Jacques hypothetically thought that maybe some sort of forced marriage was arranged, but he never really got around to asking her the specifics about it).

Bastille’s reason was so that he could become a stronger Sorcerer while he had nothing to do. It was just as simple as that (They were already friends before they were Adventurers; it just so happened that he was in that awkward age frame where he was old enough to become an adventurer, but still too young to apply for his desired Magical Academy).

He thought that he’d seen it all, but then one faithful day... this new boy roughly his age just walked up – as in straight up lined himself on the queue towards the receptionists, without even hesitating or even looking at the decorations of the place.

Like, really? There was a god damn colossal painting of the city from a bird’s eye view right over there, and he just ignores it? And not to mention, the moment this boy gets himself licensed as an Adventurer, he just straight up yanked the first thing he saw on the signboard, and when it was approved, he proceeded to straight up leave to complete whatever quest he had.

He returned half an hour later, holding a cat while his arms looked... shredded. Like, literally shredded from scratches, most definitely because the cat. Then no sooner after the cat was placed in a cage and his quest payment was given, he walked to the signboard and yanked another quest. And when it got approved, he left the building without any further notice.

Twenty or so minutes later, he returned, this time with a small dog who seemed scared of him. He was too mechanical – once he completed a quest, he began another one without any further flourish or anything.

That day, he had yanked no less than seven quests, and returned with no less than seven missing pets. He was... determined, if nothing else. And his behavior hinted that he had a one track mind to some degree...

At the end of that day, Jacques decided that maybe, just maybe, he hasn’t quite seen it all.

***

The boy earned a name for himself. It was Druid Marcus, because people thought that his affinity for animals was the natural reason why he was able to complete such a staggering amount of missing pet quests. And not to mention, there had been rumors that he was also taking in herb-gathering quests.

An Adventurer who only concerned themselves with matters of animals and plants? Any Adventurer would agree that they sounded like a Druid, if nothing else.

Jacques approached Marcus, and to his pleasant surprise, found him well-mannered. Well, to be completely honest, he seemed to be more along the lines of ‘doesn’t seem to give anything a shit’, but it is what it is. So with some relatively minor conversation, he had effortlessly recruited the boy his age.

Literally effortlessly.

He actually seemed to get along with his party just fine. Clara seemed to overthink whatever he said at face value, but she seemed to respect him in her own way. Bastille seemed to try purposely riling up Marcus, but it seemed like the latter simply did not care, had the best neutral face, or anything Bastille said just went over his head. It reached the point where he simply stopped trying.

Jacques really did not know what the case was.

***

Alright. Marcus was incredibly stone-faced. The way he suggested murdering innocent wolf cubs was so... indifferent. His reasoning and logic made perfect sense, but in the end, Jacques sided with Clara on that one. And then... the way he just accepted the answer which went against his own personal decision was simply too... lax. Too neutral. Too emotionless.

Jacques looked up at the sky that day.

Who are you, Marcus...? Or should he say Tobias? But it wouldn’t be any fun to simply say his name like that. It would be better to let him reveal himself, at some point.

He would figure out who Marcus is, truly he would. If only for the sake of a new challenge and some fun, at least.

***

“We’re going on a quest to a nearby Magical Dungeon.” Jacques announced. Clara let out an excited peal of laughter, and while Bastille only gave a nod, his hands shivered with excitement. And then – there was Marcus.

He only stopped inspecting his sword, and looked up at him with a complicated expression. “I have... heard of it before, at least. But what... exactly is a Magical Dungeon?”

Jacques let out a small groan. He should have figured this would happen. But before he could say anything, Clara had already stood up and bent down so her exasperated face was literally right next to Marcus’ indifferent one.

“How could you not know what a Magical Dungeon is?!” She hissed, her narrowed eyes staring against Marcus’ neutral, almost indifferent eyes.

“Spare the poor guy, he’s only been an adventurer for literally three days.” Bastille gave a small shrug, one that indicated pity on the guy. Then he turned to look at Clara. “And besides, if you’re going to grill him about it, why not tell him all about it?”

“Oh, I definitely will!” She announced, with some pride laced in her tone. “A Magical Dungeon is...”

Her explanation was... very vibrant. But in simple terms, a Magical Dungeon is simply an occurrence which happens frequently around the lands. An entrance would materialize into existence, filled with monsters and treasures, or even rarely, relics and artifacts. Bastille’s red grimoire was such, passed down to him from his family.

Or so he says. But Jacques’... thorough inspections... revealed nothing about the grimoire. There was more to it that met the eye. Even to his own eyes, it would seem...

Their entrances were labeled with a number which indicated their difficulty, and in addition, the potential rewards they give. Clearing a Magical Dungeon is a must, mostly because if left alone for a long time, the Monsters within would simply come out and attack nearby settlements.

And if there weren’t any nearby settlements, then monsters would just claim that land for themselves. Hence, the birth of the Bad Lands.

“So that is what it was.” Marcus nodded when she finished her explanation. “Thank you for telling me.” He gave a small bow of gratitude towards her.

“W-well, of course! It’s only the duty of a senior Adventurer to educate her juniors, isn’t it?” She said, as she huffed and smiled with pride.

Then Marcus hummed, and placed his hand on his chin. “It sounds like a bother to anyone, though.” Marcus commented. “Imagine minding your own business, then a dungeon just appears right next to your house the next day. And if you do not clear it out, monsters would start to come out of it. Sounds like an invasion, really. Like a hive of really, really aggressive bees.”

Jacques blinked. When Marcus explained it like that... The image was comedic; large, magical spiders floating around and buzzing like bees was something oddly entertaining. “I would agree with you there, for the most part. But on the other hand, this is how adventurers get most of their income.”

Marcus blinked. Then his stone-face expression turned into one of confusion. “You mean you do not get paid well enough for finding missing pets?”

“That’s just you.” Bastille retorted. “Not everyone is gifted enough to be able to locate animals so well. How exactly do you even do that?”

“I practiced.” Marcus replied with his trademark shrug.

“Bullshit.” He replied back, but otherwise didn’t say anything else. The Sorcerer knew that trying to pry anything from the stone-faced Soldier was useless, after all.

Jacques let out a small cough to clear the awkward silence in the air. “So now that everyone’s informed on what a Magical Dungeon is, is it safe to say that everyone agrees with it?”

“Of course!” Clara, as enthusiastic as always, even raised her hands in excitement.

“Yeah, sure.” Bastille... he should really learn how to be honest with himself. He was aware that his eyes were shining with excitement, right?

“Alright.” And Marcus – had gone back to inspecting his blade. But he did flash a thumbs up, earning a small groan from him. That was... he was going to use that a lot now, wasn’t he?

Jacques sighed. But nevertheless, he nodded at everyone. “All right, let’s set our journey to the Magical Dungeon tomorrow, then.”

On hindsight, the way everyone got excited over a Magical Dungeon... it was somewhat like taking a trip to another city, wasn’t it? Well, then again, as long as they focus, it should be decently safe enough.

It was only a Tier 2 Dungeon, after all.

***

Surprisingly, Marcus was incredibly efficient with what he brought. He knew where the Magical Dungeon was located in, which was only a few hours of travel time, so his backpack looked light enough at least.

“Is everyone ready to go?” Jacques asked, and everyone gave out vocalized affirmation with varying degrees of excitement, ranging from very, to almost non-existent. One could probably guess which belonged to who. “Then let’s go.”

And without any more ceremony, they left the gates. Jacques blinked at the wooden card Marcus held which was way too similar to the card he held. He of all people owned a newly minted Traveler’s Pass? The same person who seemed to not know how most basic city things worked?

... Then again, maybe Jacques shouldn’t be too condescending. Marcus did say that he came from some village located in the middle of nowhere. His exact words, really.

And so without much more ceremony, they set off. This time, they set off using the front exit of the city – the one with the iron-wrought bridge with massive arching metal framework. It was honestly amazing, and really made one wonder how long the bridge was constructed for.

But that was entirely besides the point. The journey was... surprisingly silent. Jacques thought that Clara, or even Bastille would be even more talkative than this silence, which was only broken by the sounds of their footsteps.

...

“So, you travel a lot?” It was Bastille who spoke first. Everyone turned to look at him, but they knew that the question was posed towards Marcus.

“I think so.” Marcus replied, just as succinct as Bastille’s question.

“Figured.” The Sorcerer only gave a small shrug. Marcus turned to look at him, with a minor tilt of his head. His expression seemed to only change into three things; perfectly neutral, somewhat confused, and mildly amused. “Don’t look at me like that. I just noticed that you seem to be really good at walking.”

Jacques blinked. Clara’s mouth was agape. Then her finger raised itself, pointing towards the Sorcerer. “Who – who are you... and what did you do the real Bastille?!”

“That was...” Jacques gave a polite cough. “The most strange thing to complement someone on... But what made you say that all of sudden?”

“You guys got a problem with me saying the truth?” Bastille retorted. His voice might have held an edge, but his eyes were only shining some very mild amusement.

“No. He is correct.” Marcus said. “I also think that I walk really well.”

Clara blinked. Then her mouth opened, before she closed it again, as if her thoughts had suddenly vanished. Suppressing her thoughts and not saying what she had in mind – that was also new from the normally vibrant girl who seemed to have no filters, and always had something to say for every occasion.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments again. Jacques looked at Marcus – the boy who seemed to bring out this strange, new habits from everyone else.

“I won’t deny that you’re good at walking.” The party leader finally said. Marcus only nodded, and he seemed pleased about it.

Strange was one way to describe Marcus, after all.

***

And there. It only took almost two hours of constant walking, before they found the Magical Dungeon entrance. It was almost too bizarre, really, because the entrance was simply a white-colored door attached to whatever was around. It could be a door attached to a tree, attached to cave, or even attached to a house at times.

Well, attached to a weird part of a house, like somewhere a second floor window should be in, for example.

The gold plating only contained a black, crude marking for two; ‘II’. This was the correct Magic Dungeon, after all.

“So they really do exist... I was not just dreaming, after all.” Marcus idly commented, as he seemed to stare at the door with some... discomfort? Was he apprehensive of the door? Or was it simply because it was a door stuck in the middle of a large tree.

“You got history with Magic Dungeons?” Bastille asked, and Marcus seemed to think to himself, before he gave a shrug as his response. “What kinda answer was that?”

“Do not worry about it.” He replied, giving his trademark shrug once more. Then he walked over to the door without any hesitation. “And we just open this and step inside to clear the dungeon, correct?”

“In a nutshell.” Clara answered, then her eyes glinted mischievously. “Wanna see who can kill more monsters again?”

“Why do you sound so excited about it?” Bastille sighed.

She hummed to herself, then nodded. “I have a long standing rivalry with Marcus. I must not be defeated.”

“You only knew him a few days ago.” He pointed out.

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. My spirit says that he is my destined rival.”

He let out a small, almost ferocious grin. “Oh ho. And you do remember you said that to me just a month ago.”

“And to me.” Jacques added in, but really, he was ignored.

“Bah.” Clara stuck her tongue out. “You guys are old news. Marcus is my new rival. Isn’t that right, Marcus?” She looked around. Then her expression turned into confusion. “... Where did he go?”

Jacques blinked, and began to look around. True to her word, the semi-sarcastic, stoic boy was nowhere to be found. And the only thing that changed around them... was the white door which was left open, revealing a swirling vortex within the door...

...

“We have to go save him!” Jacques exclaimed, wasting no time as he bolted towards the vortex. After a few moments, Bastille and Clara were spurred on by his words, and followed him into the Dungeon.

***

The dungeon seemed to take place in some sort of castle, with all of the stone ceilings and stone walls. The ceiling was comfortably high, while the room they were sent to was relatively spacious.

And that’s when the normalcy ended, because as soon as they looked downwards, corpses of assorted monsters, like giant rats, goblins, or even dire wolves were strewn about. They all covered the ground, and piled against each other even.

They were also beginning to disintegrate into motes of light – definitely Magic Dungeon monsters, if nothing else.

If it wasn’t for that fact, then they would have been wading through a sea of corpses, and a definite sea of blood, judging from the large, gaping wounds each corpse bore.

And in the center of the room – stood Marcus, his longsword plunged into the body of a goblin, before he flicked his sword, launching the corpse against the wall with a sickening crack. The body slowly slid down painfully... And then – Marcus turned to look at them, and for the briefest of moments, his face looked sinister...

On second thought, he just looked the same. Mechanical, cold, and calculated. It was probably just the floor covered with corpses, and blood staining his sword which made him look more sinister than he really was.

“How the fuck –” Bastille muttered, looking at his surroundings with widened, surprised eyes. “Did you... do all this?” Marcus gave a nod in response.

“More importantly, why did you just enter the Dungeon without even letting us know?” Jacques asked, his voice stern. While the guy seemed to be just fine, he should know that acting on his own like that would be detrimental in the near future. It was better to curb out his independent tendencies from now on.

“I was curious.” Marcus simply replied, then when he moved to sheathe his sword, he let out a small hiss. His gaze fixed itself towards his arm – where his coat had a cut in it.

“Hey, you’re hurt!” Clara said, moving towards him. Her eyes scanned across his arm, and then she let out a small gasp. “That cut... where did you get it from?”

Marcus blinked, then seemed to think to himself for a few moments. Then his eyes lit up in recognition. “I think a goblin dagger got me.”

“You need to disinfect it.” Jacques said, and his hand moved to one of the pockets in his pants. He procured a small vial filled with clear, colorless liquid. Clara flinched when she realized what he held in his hand. It was disinfectant. “Lift your arm up, and don’t move.”

Marcus obliged, and held his arm out. Jacques had to suppress a wince – that looked nastier than he had anticipated. The skin around the wound was turning green, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Marcus could still move his infected arm.

Without any more hesitation, he removed the vial stopper, and let the clear liquid flow freely. The moment the disinfectant hit the infected wound, Marcus flinched, and gave a small hiss, but otherwise didn’t do or say anything about it.

Amazing pain tolerance? Somehow, that sounded like something Marcus would possess, really. Jacques wasn’t surprised, actually.

“You just got your arm disinfected, and your only reaction is to stare at it?” Bastille asked, his eyes narrowed with... a complicated emotion. Jealousy? Admiration? Maybe a mix of both.

“It was surprising.” Marcus nodded. “It burned a bit.”

“’A bit’.” Clara parroted, her expression was blatantly surprised. “But how did you just take that without even so much looking like it hurt?”

By now, Marcus had wrapped his wounded arm with some white cloth he got from his own bag. He only looked up from the bandages, and then looked at Clara’s expectant eyes. “I am simply used to it.”

Even Jacques himself hesitated whenever he had to use a disinfectant, especially on an open wound. Hell, Clara would keep whining and crying whenever she had to do it. Bastille – that bastard just hesitantly applied it to himself, while gritting on his teeth to suppress his screams or something.

That gave him a picture to work with though, and the circumstances of the enigma known by everyone as Marcus started to unravel his secrets within his mind.

“I guess you’re alright now?” Jacques asked, and Marcus only nodded. “Then let’s go forwards. Also, Marcus, try not to run off on your own again.”

“I will try.” Marcus admitted, sounding not-very-confident in his ability to do so.

Jacques let out another sigh, hoping that this guy didn’t just sign their death warrants.

Wait... what was that sound? That sounded like... the footsteps of a hundred monsters...?

“Get into position!” Jacques yelled, and everyone except for Marcus did so, because he didn’t know what he meant. When the monsters came pouring in, Marcus immediately rushed to meet them.

“Marcus! Don’t rush them! Hold our right side!” Jacques’ voice boomed, issuing commands to his almost unruly comrade. He swung his saber elegantly – efficiently to kill monsters which were trying to overrun their party.

A sword strike to lop off a goblin’s head there, a sword movement to parry a strike there; a flowing combo of defense, evasion, and offense.

“Understood.” Marcus replied, while he returned to his right side, his feet firmly planted into the ground. Whenever a monster stepped too close, his sword would flash out, and whatever stepped too close would find their heads rolling across the ground. Rinse, and repeat. The bodies began to pile up below his feet, and began to disintegrate.

This guy really was good at killing monsters. But unlike Jacques’ elegant, flowing swordsmanship, Marcus’ was much more reserved and sudden, to say the least. Efficient, yet explosive in its own way.

So that’s how Marcus managed to create a sea of corpses when they first teleported in...

“Bastille, when’s your spell gonna fire?” Clara asked out, as her fingers moved deftly, nocking an arrow, aiming it towards a monster, and firing it within the same breath. Her arrows were fast, precise, and lethal. But they were like precise needles trying to curb a swarm of insects. While each needle took down an insect, they needed something more... widespread. “We kinda need it right now, there’s a lot of them!”

“Right about now!” Bastille’s grimoire floated in the air, and it glinted a dangerous red energy. “Jacques! Marcus! Retreat to over here!” A few seconds after he said that, the grimoire let loose streams of red flames towards the hordes of monsters.

Thankfully, Jacques and Marcus were fast enough to evacuate from their front, and they only watched the different monsters get roasted to death, while the grimoire still floated in the air, supported by magical, glowing symbols. Whenever a monster survived the fire and stepped to close, they would dispatch it with their swords.

“Hmm.” Marcus let out an impressed hum, even when just a few couple inches over his head, a magical grimoire was spitting out flames. “So this really is the power of magic, is it not?”

“I guess.” Jacques gave a small shrug, as he fanned himself from the heat. “Mages take a while to channel their spells, so when it comes to these sorts of things, our job is to buy as much time as possible.”

“Hey guys, this is a Magical Dungeon and all...” Clara asked, as she cracked her finger joints, and stretched her arms. “But don’t you think there’s too many monsters right now?”

“Actually, yeah. Now that you mentioned it, it’s really strange.” Bastille said, as he hummed. “It’s almost as if they’re all running away from something...”

“I think it was because I stepped on something.” Marcus said, and everyone turned to him. “I did not know what it was, but it sent a loud noise. I fought a wave like this when it happened.”

“An alarm trap, huh.” Jacques muttered. Sounded just about right...

“You’re telling me that you managed to survive this by yourself?” Bastille looked around the room.

A single nod. There was no pride, nor any sort of embarrassment. It was just a nod stating it as fact and nothing else.

“How the fuck?” Bastille cursed. By now, his grimoire was nestled in his hand, and it stopped spewing streams of fire.

“I keep telling you. I practiced.”

“W-well...” Clara coughed nervously. She gave him a small bow of apology, it seemed. “If you’re my rival... then I am humbly defeated then... There’s no way I can keep up with you...”

“Yeah.” Marcus shrugged, nodding to her statement. No sense of mercy, whatsoever! He flicked his longsword again, to fling away loose blood from the sword, and then sheathed it. “We have to kill the big monster to get our rewards, right?”

“Dungeon Boss, really.” Jacques corrected him, but he nodded nonetheless. “It’s... well, as you say. Let’s go, then?” Everyone gave a nod.

Strange was one word to describe Marcus. But at the same time, he was strong.

That was the collective thought which circulated in everyone else’s head.

***

If there was a silver lining to the entire part where they had to kill a whole lot of monsters because Marcus triggered an alarm trap or something, then the silver lining was the fact that they could travel about the dungeon without having to worry too much about encountering any monsters.

Because really, they killed like most of them at this point. Any stray monster would just die within moments after encountering them, courtesy of Clara’s precise arrow shots.

Thankfully, the whole dungeon was lit by torches hung on the stone walls. So they didn’t need to make their own torches as they traveled through the dungeon. Jacques looked at the walls, which seemed to have some pictures painted on them. Just directly behind him was Marcus, and glancing backwards, he could see that even the stoic boy was curious about the painted walls.

“Hey, hey, Bastille.” Clara’s voice broke the silence, as she whispered.

“What is it?” On the contrary, Bastille didn’t bother to whisper, and only spoke like he normally did. As a result, his voice echoed off the stone walls.

Jacques let out a wince at the suddenly loud voice, but relaxed when he remembered there probably wasn’t any monster around anymore.

“You’re smart, right?”

“To admit I am smart would only mean I am not smart.”

“Why are you even trying to appear humble?”

“It is what it is.”

“Fine, fine. Anyways, do you have any idea what these painted walls could mean?”

“It looks like some sort of recorded story. But we’re reading it backwards, I think.”

“How do you know that?”

“Look behind us. The picture behind us looks like a castle full of people, but if you look in front of us, it became a small village instead.”

“So it’s the story of people, then?”

“From what I’m seeing so far. But then the real question is; why would a magical dungeon have such records?”

There was silence.

“Well, if you don’t know, then of course I wouldn’t be able to know.”

“You’re correct. Indeed, while I am smart, even my own knowledge has limits.”

“But... didn’t you just say that you weren’t smart earlier...?”

“It is what it is.”

Jacques only gave a grin at their antics. He didn’t quite have anything to add to what they say, and of course, it would be a minor miracle for Marcus to actually add his own thoughts to the mix.

And then... the painted walls ended. The story of civilization being built had reverted into wilder times – when men and beast were scattered about the world to fight for survival. And with the end of the painted hallway, came a large, ominous door.

“This looks like a Boss Room, alright.” Bastille muttered offhandedly, staring at the door.

It was more like a double door gate, really, with its towering height, black iron plates, and metal skull-like shapes which gave decoration to it. Aside from the ominous skull-like decorations, it looked like some town’s main gate or something.

“This is my first time going dungeon diving... This looks scary...” Clara muttered nervously, even though her hands had already held her bow, ready to draw an arrow in a moment’s notice.

“Yeah... Bastille and I did one before... but this is still as nerve-wracking as ever.” Jacques admitted, the grin on his face turning into one of nervousness, but hardened with determination. “Hey Marcus, also your first time going dungeon diving?”

“Hmm.” Marcus hummed, as if contemplating the question. “Yeah.” Then he nodded. Even his stone-like expression had a bit of uncertainty clouding it, as his eyes seemed to comprehend the very danger it presented.

What was up with that delay? But no matter, Marcus didn’t really seem like the kind of person to lie, so he would respect what he said.

“This is a Tier 2 Dungeon Boss – and we should be fine if we work together properly. In theory, at least.” Bastille commented.

Clara gave a glare towards his Sorcerer friend. “Not very assuring, you know.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Okay, stop chatting. Time to get to work. The plan is the same as always. Marcus and I would serve as our primary front line, Clara should provide ranged artillery, and Bastille provides us with either firepower, or crowd control against whatever comes up, alright?” Jacques intoned, as he stretched his limbs.

Affirmative responses greeted him, but they were much more serious this time. Good, it seemed like they knew what they were getting themselves into.

“Marcus, help me open these doors.” Jacques said, as he placed both of his hands against one door.

“Understood.” And with that, Marcus also placed his hands against the other door. “On three?”

“On three.” Jacques nodded. “One, two, three! Hrk!”

“Hah...!”

And with collective grunts, both Soldier and Swordsman pushed against the colossal wooden gates, slowly pushing it open. When it was wide enough for two people, they stopped.

Jacques was the first to enter the room... or rather, exit the castle-like dungeon. Because it led to a place with skies – that only meant going outside, did it not?

The place was big. No, that was an understatement. It was massive; it was a full fledged palace courtyard, except instead of the scenic green grass, bushes, and trees of different sorts to provide decoration, it was a wasteland.

Where there should be trees with lush leaves, there were only petrified trees without leaves, and only nests of crows were found on the branches of those trees. Where there should have been bushes, there were only steel pikes, with skulls embedded on the top. And the grass was nowhere to be found; only ashes greeted them.

There was a loud bang behind them – and Jacques had found the gates had closed shut. Well... he had forgotten to mention that there was probably no escape from Boss Rooms, but that wasn’t going to help with matters now.

“J-Jacques... The doors locked on us...” Clara’s voice trembled.

“It’s fine. We’re going to win.” Jacques had absolute confidence; this was a Tier 2 Dungeon.

“We’re not gonna lose now.” Bastille added; He and Jacques did conquer another Tier 2 Dungeon by themselves before, after all.

“It would be impossible for us to lose.” It was Marcus who said that; his voice was resolute, and he would likely back those words. He was, after all, the guy who survived the might of half an entire dungeon rushing down on him singlehandedly.

Jacques raised his hand to a fist. Bastille had met it with a fist of his own. He also raised it towards Marcus, who stared at it with a confused expression for a few moments, before finally bumping his fist as well. Jacques let out a grin.

Marcus picked up quickly. Of course he did.

“I see... Let’s go and win, then.” Clara said, having gained confidence from everyone’s collective pride and confidence.

And after that; a roar emerged from somewhere. Everyone’s hands covered their ears, and they all looked towards the source. A stone-like monster was perched in one of the ruined courtyard towers, and stared down at them with glowing, dangerous red eyes. Then it roared deafeningly again, before jumping to the ground.

The sheer impact of its landing shook the very earth itself, and the stone-like monster was now clearly seen.

It was not just a monster; It had the shape of a knight, but right now, it was covered with too much stone and dust to ever see the polish and shine of its former knightly metal armor. Its helmet had great slits to allow the monster within to see, and red eyes burned from behind it. With both of its hands, it hefted about a great warhammer – the height of it was about as tall as two fully grown humans, and the sheer width of the hammer ends looked broad enough to pulverize even boulders.

Which was to say that this Knight... was much bigger, and taller than them.

“I think this doesn’t need to be said...” Jacques began slowly, as he stared at the Knight, and its warhammer. For the shortest while, his eyes burned white as he stared at their opponent. “But we shouldn’t get hit by that.”

With another roar, the Stone Knight charged towards them.