“Form up,” Mathideus bellowed.

The ragtag group of adventurers, about ten in number, formed ranks around him.

Mathideus, for his part, stayed at the forefront of the formation, surrounded by members of Glamring. His long, blonde hair—matted and dyed with blood—flowed like silk behind him. A straight sword hummed in one of his hands; a heather shield in the other.

This was a man used to taking charge in the heat of battle. But, the creatures he faced this time were far from ordinary. They advanced in two rows toward the adventurers, forming grotesque silhouettes in the dim shadows of the light. The first row bore the dreaded Lion Roach Chimeras which marched low to the ground, looking like true critters.

The second row featured a new breed of monsters. They retained the mammalian skulls of their predecessors, complete with long snouts, large teeth, and triangle-shaped ears. However, that was where the similarities ended.

While the lion roaches stood at about seven feet in an upright position, the new monsters towered over them by a good three feet. They’d snubbed the insectoid body in favor of a bipedal one: gaunt, mean, and lean around the ribs. Their flesh glowed a pale hue in the dungeon light, transparent enough that dark organs swam visibly beneath the skin.

Two long arms hung low to the ground on each individual, bearing jagged-looking swords. The swords looked to have been fashioned from bone or material equally as pale, though there was no doubting their durability as they scraped along the ground. Each monster wore a tattered loincloth around their pelvis, not so much a fashion statement as a lack of need for armor.

[Identify] revealed their effective names: Cynocephalus, which I recognized from myths back on Earth. They could arguably be considered Dog Human Chimeras, but whoever named the monsters seemed tired of that gimmick.

The Cynocephali varied between levels 25 and 26, which put them firmly in silver rank. They showed this difference via intelligence and waited as the first row of roaches rushed at the adventurers.

“Missiles,” Mathideus commanded.

The magic users in his group—about three in number—responded with spells.

The spells decimated the onrush of chimeras, allowing the frontline fighters to clean up the stragglers. I remained in the shadows behind the adventurers, unable to proceed until they cleared a path.

“We can win this!” a male ranker said, spinning his spear to rid it of insectoid matter.

“Focus,” Mathideus warned.

The man snorted and stepped out of formation, toward the unmoving row of Cynocephali. Bright light sparkled around the tip of his spear as he prepared an ability.

I didn’t see the enemy move. One second, the Cynocephali stood in utter stillness. The next, two of them flung their swords at the regrouping rankers.

The first sword struck the man with the spear, knocking his weapon from his grasp. The second rocketed toward Mathideus, who managed a last-minute parry.

The disarmed man scrambled for his spear, only to miss a third sword that crashed into his skull. He crumpled to the ground, and his head followed last, splitting apart in separate directions.

I barely registered the gruesome sight before the Cynocephali roared and commenced their assault. They closed the distance to the adventurers, trampling the surviving roaches as they did. The rankers managed a single volley of spells before the chimeras fell upon them. Bone swords swung down at the rankers, only to be blocked by the shields of Mathideus and another member of Glamring.

“Cluster,” Mathideus screamed.

More spells erupted from behind the front line. Blood, of humans and chimeras both, stained the ground.

I dashed out of [Stealth], eager to help now that I had seen enough. Two Cynocephali battered the defenders, knocking three fighters off their feet. They dashed through the breach in the frontline, toward the casters, and would have torn them to pieces were it not for the timely intervention of Mathideus.

He swung his sword, and a wall of giant blades rose from the ground.

One chimera met its end, trapped between the blades and an onslaught of spells. The other surged through the fence, undeterred by the damage. It clamped down on a Mage before she could respond and tugged the girl’s arm clean off her socket. I reached in at that moment and raked my dagger across its heel.

The other rankers responded. Weapons and abilities flew at my position, targeted at the chimera. I nearly died from the spray-and-pray nature of the attacks, but someone needed to keep the chimera occupied. The giant beast finally keeled over with the girl's arm lodged firmly in its jaw. It would take that prize to the afterlife, assuming chimeras enjoyed that privilege.

One of the casters who had nearly killed me in overcompensation snarled in my face. “Who are you? How did you get here?”

The now one-armed Mage sobbed in the background.

“I’m an ally,” I said. “I’m here to help.”

“That you, Damien?” Mathideus asked, chancing a look over his shoulder. He didn’t wait for a reply as the last of the Cynocephali tried to bifurcate him.

The monster went down in seconds, courtesy of the fighters who had returned to their feet.

“Everyone,” Mathideus said, dispelling his sword, “take a moment to regain your breath. Sordius, stop gawking like an idiot and cast a healing spell on Yuna.”

The man in question, with a beard braided into rows, balked at the command. “I can do healing. But, I don’t have anything to regrow lost limbs!”

“Just staunch the wound, man,” another ranker said.

I cleaned my dagger on the skull of a chimera and closed the [System] message informing me of my participation in the kill.

Mathideus walked through the group of rankers, patting shoulders and whispering words of encouragement. He made his way to me. “Great timing, Damien. I see you got my request?”

“What request?” I asked.

“The one calling for a coalition. We sent word of our plan before the dungeon run began.” He stroked his chin and regarded me with curiosity. “You got wind of this, didn’t you? We distributed maps and everything.”

Of course, they did. And, in true fashion, no one had bothered to inform the Dark Elf or his party. I couldn’t blame Mathideus for this one though. We hadn’t crossed paths since the fight at the guild.

The friends of the fallen spearman shoved through the group to recover his corpse.

“That’s what this is?” I asked, studying the group of weary rankers. Their numbers had fallen to nine with the death of their comrade. “A coalition?”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Mathideus said. “Many rankers linger around the preceding region, waiting for the exit portals to open. But, we aren’t interested in repeating the same, old strategy. We are forming an alliance to push for the dungeon heart.”

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“You know where it is?”

“ . . . No. But a group this large is bound to find it. Think about it, Damien”—and, at this, he beamed—“Almost everyone avoided the final region in the last dungeon run; a run I participated in. Only a handful dared to venture this close to the center. With news of our coalition spreading, we can succeed where our predecessors failed! We just need to wait for more rankers to boost our numbers.”

But, I had seen Mathideus' numbers. They had been turned into a gravesite less than five corridors away.

“You started,” I said, “with a much larger army than this.”

“Well, yes . . .”

“And, you still haven’t found the dungeon heart or its location.”

“It’s a work in progress—”

“The handful of rankers who ventured this far in the last run didn't return, did they?”

Mathideus frowned. “The layout of the dungeon changes between each dive. What matters is that we avoid making the mistakes of the past. We don’t do this as a handful.” He gestured at our surroundings. “This penultimate stage was built for group battles. You can tell by the width of the corridors. Our predecessors failed in thinking they could do it alone. I am not plagued by their hubris.”

“It sure seems like you are—”

“For the first time since the dungeons respawned,” Mathideus continued, drowning out my insult, “a majority of the participants have agreed to gather here and find the dungeon heart together. They are eager to make their mark.”

Eager to die, you mean—if the corpses from earlier were any indication. The dungeon heart hadn’t been recovered in the last three festivals or in the thousand years before that . . . before the dungeons reappeared. Those figures didn’t bode well for Mathideus or his crew.

Or for me.

“Where are your teammates?” Mathideus asked, looking around.

My expression must have changed, because he grimaced and patted my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sure they fought valiantly till the end. For what it is worth, I appreciate your talent. We can use an extra rogue.”

“My teammates aren’t dead. They are simply missing.”

Mathideus offered a sympathetic look.

“Ready on your word, Mat.” A familiar man with a tower shield marched up to us.

Once again, I found myself distracted by his purple hair, which looked out of place in the world of Vizhima.

Another member of Glamring, this one with spiky, black hair, moved among the crowd, helping the weary to their feet. He passed Mathideus, and the two shared an intimate smile they didn’t care to hide.

The final member of their party pulled a large roll of parchment from his inventory. He unfurled it on the dungeon floor and pushed his long, brown locks out of his face. I peeked over his shoulder to see a crude diagram of the Labyrinth’s pathways. Some kind of local area map.

“We are here,” the man said to Mathideus and gestured at a point on the map. “We should come within range of the Labyrinth’s center if we keep heading southward. There are a few other places we could do well to investigate, so I suggest waiting for other groups to catch up.”

“Agreed,” Mathideus said, “but we can’t keep dallying. The exit portals appear in less than two days. I don’t want to be isolated from them when that happens.”

I studied their map. Aside from a few glaring errors, it also possessed a lot of blind spots, which was just as well, considering it had been drawn from the memories of various groups of rankers. This was a massacre waiting to happen. Any attempts to coordinate a strike using this would only end in disaster.

But, did I want to help them? As far as I was concerned, Mathideus was the competition, not an ally. And, I would not endure all I had suffered only to gift the final prize to someone else.

Reservations aside, however, I liked Mathideus. Enough to want him alive, at least.

“Mathideus,” I said in a casual tone, “you might be better off abandoning your attempt. Your coalition’s falling apart, and you don’t look any better.”

Mathideus’ visage changed, as did those of his teammates.

“You misunderstand, cur,” Spiky Hair said and stepped in front of his leader. “We don’t need faithlessness. Not from the likes of you. Just move along and pretend you never saw.”

“Allen,” Mathideus said, casting a wary glance at the rankers behind us.

A few of them had perked up with interest at our discussion.

“You’re not wrong,” Mathideus said in a low voice to me. “But, I would be hard-pressed to relent at this juncture. Many have lost their lives—”

“And, more would join them if you continue on this path.”

“So, what would you have me do, Damien?” he said with crossed arms. “I am level twenty-five. Unless I get stuck in a rut for the next three years, this is the last time I enter the Labyrinth.” His eyes clouded over. “The Leclerc family might have once been Skeelien nobility, but I’m the last living member of its household. A household that perished over the course of prior dungeon runs. The sacrifices of my family won’t be in vain.”

But, that way of thinking wasn’t any better. His honest admission impressed me, but Mathideus would sacrifice himself and the lives of others in a silly bid to reclaim lost honor.

“Your family wouldn’t want you to die here,” I whispered.

“Better that than going out with a whimper,” he replied. “I can’t play in Skeelie forever. The real challenges await out in the wider world. If I can’t surmount this hurdle, what then does that mean for my prospects as a ranker?”

“We should move,” Allen interjected with a stern glance at me. “Our people grow uneasy. We can wait for reinforcements at the next resting point.”

Mathideus grimaced and moved over to the rest of his army. He regarded the tired rankers, who in turn stood straighter and mustered what little was left of their courage.

“Brethren,” Mathideus said, lifting his sword. “Friends and kindred both. Here now we stand on the precipice of glory with our comrades-in-arms lost behind us. But, I must enjoin you: Do not be dismayed! You have chosen courage over safety and cowardice. You have sacrificed comfort for recognition and loss.

“As we march into the unknown with only valor to guide us, I promise that you shall not be put to shame. Before this time tomorrow, the Egg of the Labyrinth will be in our hands! Bards shall sing forever of this moment, and your children shall listen to your stories with glee. But first, I must ask. Are you dismayed?”

The rankers stomped their feet, punctuated by a resounding No!

“I will be your backbone!” Mathideus said. “Your sword and buckler, and cuirass and helm! I will lead from the forefront, your first line of defense against approaching threats. Should any of you falter, rest assured that I will be there to help you. No one else dies today. No one!”

A twinge of shame tugged at my gut. On one hand stood Mathideus, doing all he could to rally assistance in beating the dungeon. And then, there was me. Secretive, old me. One of only three people in the Labyrinth who could visit the dungeon heart at will.

Maybe I could help them? If we combined Glamring’s might with my access to the Traveler’s room, beating the Labyrinth could turn out to be a cakewalk. I would also save lives in the process. No one else needed to die from pointless exploration.

So, why was I reluctant?

Revealing the Traveler's room meant revealing more about myself than I intended. And, although the coalition stood united at the moment, all of that could change the instant the dungeon heart was won.

They’ll kill you, a small voice said in the back of my head. They’ll kill you and take your loot.

In the end, I trusted only two people enough to share that secret. Mathideus could search for the dungeon’s heart the hard way. However, if there was any way I could help this team . . .

“Mathideus,” I said, pushing toward the front of the formation.

The rankers had begun a slow march forward, with the melee fighters taking the lead. A rogue I had earlier failed to notice, judging by his apparel, ventured ahead as some kind of scout. The group still had a ways to go before reaching the center of the Labyrinth. And, that was assuming they didn't get derailed.

“Hmm?” Mathideus said, cocking his head to look up at me.

“Are you interested in a bargain?” I whispered.

“Depends on the terms.”

“I’ll give you an advantage against the final boss. All I ask is that you spare some effort to find my teammates if you succeed.”

“You sound like you are doing me a favor. Everyone who contributes to the conquest of the Labyrinth gets a share of the spoils.”

“I am doing you a favor, you martyrish git. Promise me this, and I’ll point your people in the direction of an item room”—and, out to safety if it comes down to it—“It’s the last one in the dungeon. You should understand what that means. The key to beating the Labyrinth could very well lie in there.”

Mathideus stiffened.

“Give me your word,” I said, “and I will show you where it lies.”

“How do you—?”

The kchak sound of a sprung trap reached my ears. The rogue, who had been sniffing out traps, froze and glanced with wide eyes at the rest of the group.

Purple Hair raised his shield and called out a warning. Before he could finish, giant boulders tumbled out of the ceiling.