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8. Duel

A smiling young man in a suit stood at a desk beside a barred door of solid iron. He had a piece to a half-assembled jigsaw puzzle in his hand.

“Hello challengers. Welcome to the third floor. Would you like a drink?” Huay tensed up at the realization that he was level 28. She looked to Salein to see if there was any danger.

“His name is Ezzaan,” said Salein, ignoring the clerk to address Huay. “He poses no threat so long as we accept his offers of hospitality.”

“Challengers. Would you like a drink or not?” Ezzaan sounded a little irritated.

“Yes.” Salein took a seat at the nearest table and gestured for the group to follow suit.

The clerk brought glasses of brown liquid out from under his desk and served them to the group on a tray.

Salein took the first sip, then Huay next. It tasted like an herbal tea, but she couldn’t identify it as anything she knew in specific. The drink was bitter and difficult to consume at a paltry level 4, but the group had as long as they needed to work their way through the cups and so they weren’t worried.

Salein emptied the backpacks onto the table and ordered everyone to start sorting the loot. A few minutes later, there were four piles—each roughly the same size. Looking at the loot, the four of them couldn’t help but smile. The sheer abundance of their treasure was intoxicating.

“This is enough for each of us to bring home at least 20,000 Loya,” said Salein.

“That’s more than double what we had expected to get.” Beale smiled. “We can call it quits with the adventuring for a while after this.”

Jorlaan nodded at Huay in approval. It was still impossible for him to talk, so he wasn’t capable of much more, but Huay figured he must have been impressed by her talent for appraisal.

That’s definitely enough for a camel. Huay had no doubts that she would live well-off for a long time—provided that she could survive to the end of the dungeon.

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“Ezzaan. We’re ready to go through that door. Open it.”

“Very well then. I will lead you to your trial and explain its conditions once inside. Please follow me.”

Once the group had gathered their belongings, Ezzaan took out a key and unlocked the door. Ezzaan and the party entered into a hallway with a vaulted ceiling and walls painted white. Four statues stood wearing golden tiaras, each blocking a doorway.

“You will each pick a golem to follow. The one you choose will serve as your opponent in a one-on-one match to the death.”

“What are their levels?” Beale looked to Huay.

“From left to right it’s… 9, 12, 15, and 18.” The distribution was obvious even without her power: the higher-level golems were physically larger and looked sturdier.

“Jorlaan takes far left. Huay gets middle left. Beale takes middle right. I’ll take far right,” Salein declared.

“Why does Jorlaan get the easier fight? He’s twice my level…”

“And half-dead. You’re uninjured.”

Huay’s stomach dropped with the acknowledgment of her upcoming opponent. It had a vaguely humanoid form, though its body was a goopy mass of clay and sand in a constant state of melting and reforming. The proportions were off, as well—a gigantic torso with thick long arms held up by stubby legs that looked like tree stumps. There were no distinct facial features except for oversized holes where its eyes should have been.

“Please approach your chosen opponents. The battles will commence shortly.”

The others walked up to the golems Salein had assigned them. Huay did the same after a few moments of hesitation. She wasn’t confident in her odds of survival, but backing away wasn’t an option either. Preparing for the worst, Huay slid the magical ring she’d kept in her pockets onto a finger.

“Please follow the golems.”

The opponents came to life with those words and the doors swung open on their own accord. Everyone followed a golem into their respective rooms.

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The door slammed shut behind Huay the moment she stepped foot inside. A gilded chandelier hung from a tall domed ceiling covered with patterns of planets and constellations, giving the room an iridescent glow. The walls, like the room prior, were painted white. The ground was soft with a thick layer of beachlike sand spread out around the arena.

The golem spun around and bowed to Huay. She dropped Jorlaan’s backpack off by the entrance and pulled out her sword. Huay had no idea how she was supposed to win; she began to study the golem’s levels in hopes of finding a clue.

Its legs, in spite of their small size, were level 14, while the disproportionately large arms were only level 7. She also noted its eye holes were the strongest area at a formidable level 17. Huay wasn’t quite sure what to do with this information, mostly due to a lack of experience.

The golem exploded into motion, charging like a bull, though its arms remained stiff at its side. Huay, unprepared for the attack, barely managed to brace herself before the golem’s head crashed hard into her side.

She stumbled back and yelped as the arm she’d used to block burst into pain. The Pocket Gauntlet absorbed some of the impact, but it only protected her hand and wrist.

The golem reoriented its body and charged again. She frantically jumped out of the way and tumbled onto the sand as it came, watching as the golem continued its charge until it crashed headfirst into the wall, slightly deforming its body. It pulled itself off and stood motionless for a moment as it reformed.

Another charge followed. Huay dodged again, getting used to how it moved. It crashed into the wall, reformed, and charged once again. And again. And again. The golem always ran in a straight line until it hit something. I have to make a move, I can’t keep dodging forever.

She recalled the strategy for fighting golems that had been outlined in the guidebook: Attack randomly, until you get lucky enough to strike the core. The best time to attack is while the golem is reforming its body, which makes rapid hits in quick succession an effective approach. The core is about the size of a grapefruit and is extremely fragile.

But Huay wasn’t confident in her ability to make any hits at all—let alone rapid ones. She could not muster the power in her strikes to penetrate deep into the golem’s body, judging by how little the wall had affected it. Luckily, the guidebook had also provided a secondary strategy that could reduce the guesswork: she could cut off a segment of the golem and see if it kept moving to know if it contained the core, but Huay didn’t think she had the strength to pull it off in the time it took the golem to reform its body. That settles it then…

She gripped her sword with two hands and brought it up by her shoulder, like a baseball player at-bat. The form wasn’t what Beale had taught her, but it was the best she could come up with in the heat of the moment.

The golem came rushing and Huay took a wild swing when it came near. Sandiver cut effortlessly through its left shoulder, sending its arm to the ground, the golem itself doing most of the work. The creature immediately dug its feet into the sand to slow itself but knocked into Huay before managing to reach a stop.

Huay flew until she landed hard on her back, the abrasive sand tearing her sweater and peeling layers from the skin of her legs. Blood began to trickle out from her calves. She looked at the golem’s arm on the ground and noticed that it wasn’t moving. So I have to keep guessing…

The fallen arm became a viscous mass of goop when the golem stuck its leg into it. The fluidized clay crawled slowly up the creature’s body until it began to accumulate at the base of its arm.

The golem reformed fast and, before she could try for a second strike, it was fully healed and charging her once again. She swerved out of the way before the attack could connect, then readied her flawed stance.

Huay’s next blow, on the following charge, severed the golem’s other arm. She dodged out of the way after landing the hit, having grown more accustomed to its movements.

The golem’s remaining body crashed into the wall and began to liquify while the fallen arm flailed on the ground. Huay rushed to stab at the arm before it reformed, now aware that the core was inside.

After a series of frantic jabs, she heard a sound akin to glass breaking. The arm liquified immediately thereafter and the rest of the body, which had been inching toward it as a viscous sludge, became still.

“+461 XP.”

Huay enjoyed a breath of relief and put Sandiver back in its sheath. Adrenaline-repressed pain erupted throughout her body. Fuck! She bit her lip. The pain was unbearable, but she found herself happy. It felt good to win—especially after the incident with the miniboss. And that wasn’t even the weakest one! Maybe I can make it through this.

She hobbled over to the now open exit and marched out into a sand-covered foyer. Beale and Salein were already sitting on the staircase to the fourth floor, neither looking worse than when they’d come in, staring at the door from which Jorlaan would soon arrive.

“Good job on the win,” said Beale, whose gaze didn’t avert from the door, “We’re just waiting on Jorlaan now. He’s taking a while… But he should be out pretty soon.”

Salein sat wordless on the first step, her face melancholic.

Huay walked over to a wall and slumped down against it. This guy still isn’t done? But that thing was like half his level! She tried to focus on her breathing to help with the pain—though Jorlaan’s absence made her uneasy.

Five minutes passed.

“He’s still not here…” Beale’s tone was shaky.

“Then we’ll have to wait longer.” Salein had her fists clenched tight.

Thirty minutes passed.

The three of them remained silent, all aware of what had happened.

Eventually, Salein spoke. Her words barely were barely audible.

“You… You killed him, didn’t you?”