“[Dome]!”

The air above Purple Hair's shield swelled with translucent energy. The energy coalesced into a barrier which deflected the incoming boulders.

It saved the lives of the coalition . . . all of them within the area of effect, at least, which included me, Glamring, and three other rankers.

[Dome] wasn’t built to protect a large enough group, and it showed in the way the casters at the rear got repelled by the expanding barrier. The boulders rolled off [Dome] and thundered on the surroundings, grinding the casters and the single rogue in the forefront into a bloody pulp.

Blood splattered against the outside of the barrier, though to the survivors’ credit, no one lost their meals. I had been at the back of the formation a few minutes ago. Those casters could have easily been me.

“No, no, no!” Mathideus said, shoving past our tight cluster toward the edge of the barrier. The boulders evaporated as he approached, a sign that they had been created by magic. “No!”

“Mathideus!” Purple Hair said, dropping the [Dome]. “The trap’s not over yet. We have company!”

Loud growls reached my ears from further up the corridor. The floor itself vibrated as a new mob of chimeras spawned in our vicinity.

I counted over ten Cynocephali before one of the rankers, who had looked flighty from the onset, took off in the opposite direction.

“Stand your ground,” Mathideus said. “Stand.”

But, he was fighting a losing battle. The members of Glamring slid into a rigid formation, unsupported by the two other rankers who seemed torn between staying and fleeing.

A wave washed over me like an electric current.

You are in the vicinity of an allied [Rally]!

You have gained a stack of [Courage]—stacks only once.

Your resolve has been strengthened.

Your attacks now deal 50% more damage.

Oh, Mathideus. You dirty, little shit. So, this was how he had been keeping his coalition going.

“Magic!” Mathideus commanded.

The Cynocephali closed the distance. Their terrifying bone swords trailed behind them with screeching noises on the ground.

“We’re out of casters,” I started to say when a member of Glamring—who I now recognized as a Shaman—pulled a crystal out of his long, brown hair and smashed it between his palms.

You have been buffed by an allied [Heroic Defense].

Your Endurance and Willpower have risen by 5!

“Barrage!” Mathideus said, swinging his sword.

His spiky-haired teammate—Allen—swung his polearm in tandem. Lightning rolled down the corridor, backed by a volley of flying swords. The combination attack struck the incoming horde, who simply powered through the damage and charged at our group.

We broke apart to receive them. I slipped in and out of the shadows, barely hearing my grunts over the ringing of steel. A bone sword came close to cleaving my head. Another gouged the ground beside my feet.

Lightning arced and arrows fell. Loud barks and other guttural noises rose. A barrier shattered nearby with concussive force, throwing everyone in proximity—myself included—into the walls.

I bounded off the flat of a chimera’s blade and sank my dagger into its eye. It died in silence, damaged already by someone else in our party. Our sole source of buffs—the brown-haired shaman from earlier—crushed another of his fetishes.

You have been buffed by an allied [Heroic Attack]!

Your Strength and Magic Intellect have risen by 5.

The interplay between [Rally] and the two heroic buffs energized us, granting a critical advantage over the chimeras.

One of the unfamiliar rankers overextended on his swing and took damage from a retaliatory strike. He backed away with an empty health meter and scrambled within his inventory for a health potion. In doing so, he missed the hulking chimera that loomed beside him. Mathideus stepped in at that moment, but the deed had already been done. The ranker’s remains rained against a wall.

His teammate froze for all of two seconds, unable to come to terms with his brutal murder. She dropped her bow the next instant and took to her heels.

“No!” Mathideus pleaded. “Stop.”

I dodged beneath a vicious swing and earned a glancing hit to my HP. I could escape unscathed if I put my mind to it, but that meant abandoning these idiots . . .

The fleeing ranker screamed and scrambled back in our direction. A second wave of Cynocephali had appeared behind us during the melee. They crawled right out of the dungeon floor, howling in rage. The leader of this pack stood a good head taller than the rest of its kind. And, impaled upon its sword, hung the broken body of the first escapee.

“Ambush,” I warned. “Ambush behind us!”

Glamring reacted slowly. Despite being adventurers worth every pinch of their salt, there was little they could do to overturn the current situation. The Shaman lobbed a psychic bolt at the new wave of chimeras but succeeded in doing nothing but annoy a couple of them.

The chimeras barked in anger and charged down the corridor. They intended to annihilate us, bludgeoned between both groups.

“Stand tall,” Mathideus said. “Don’t wither!”

Wither? We risked being uprooted, dude. A peek at my MP showed I still had enough mana left to activate [Dark Stalker]. I frowned at the dilemma, torn between fighting and pulling a runner . . .

A tremor traveled through the ground. It started small, then coalesced into an earth-shattering roar. Massive spikes rocketed from the ground, impaling the chimeras.

Mathideus? No. He employed techniques of iron and steel. The new spikes rose from pure earth in a similar manner to spells I had encountered two days earlier—

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The breath issued from my mouth in a puff of mist. A chill wind blew over our group, cold as death and twice as loveless.

“Attack,” a distant voice said.

I couldn’t see beyond the spikes, but the thunderous noise of footfalls resounded from behind the second wave of monsters.

“It’s Byron!” the Shaman said. “He came with reinforcements!”

Magic brightened the passage. The entire Labyrinth trembled as the approaching rankers joined the fray. With the enemies on the rear flank now occupied, Glamring exploded with renewed vigor and focused once again on the chimeras at the opposite flank.

I moved to help Mathideus, ignoring the way my blood boiled at the mere mention of Byron. I couldn’t defeat any of the chimeras on my lonesome, but I made sure to contribute enough to prove my mettle.

The battle ended with victory for the rankers. A sour one for Mathideus, but a much better outcome compared to the annihilation that would have occurred had reinforcements not arrived.

Byron prowled the battlefield in his heavy armor and horned helmet. An army of about twenty strong, not counting his teammates, milled around him and looted the monsters. Three hooded figures followed behind Byron—scouts, by the looks of it.

Byron scanned the corridor as he spoke with the rogues, seeking out potential threats. His blue eyes roved past the gathered members of Glamring and settled on me. They widened for a fraction of a second, then narrowed just as quickly. A sneer stretched across his lips.

That proved enough to do it.

The tempest I had been restraining with all of my might slipped from my grasp and coursed through my veins. Multiple heads turned in alarm as I activated [Fear Aura] and strode for Byron.

Byron responded with a smirk. He didn’t budge, even as I stopped three centimeters in front of his face. He stared down at me, despite being the shorter one of us.

“This mad elf,” Beelith said, coming up from behind him.

The rogues had gone pale at my approach and made themselves scarce, but aura like mine wasn’t enough to deter Beelith.

Byron raised a hand to stop her. “Dark Elf. So, you live—”

I spat into his face. Not my brightest moment, to be fair, but being spat on by someone he deemed inferior ought to rankle a bigot like Byron.

For a half moment, Byron froze, stunned by my gall. He reached for his weapon, and I swung mine, and—

“What the hell are you doing?” a woman screamed. “Why are you attacking him?”

I emerged from my blood rage with The Blackreach Dagger lined up against Byron’s throat. But, the angle was wrong. Somehow, over the last few seconds, I’d managed to tackle him to the ground.

Byron peeked at me from behind the cover of his arms. A ring flashed on his finger, and he smirked up at me rather than retaliate.

A shiver crawled down my spine. The bastard had done something. Something to me!

“Get off him,” a burly ranker said and wrenched me bodily off Byron.

“He killed my teammates!” I said, even as my head spun with the inability to recall what had transpired over the last few seconds.

A [System] notification flashed:

You have resisted [Charm].

Charm? Was that how he got me to attack him?

“It’s that elf again,” someone whispered. “Why does he always go after Byron?”

“He’s rabid,” another said.

Byron rose to his feet, making a show of dusting himself off.

“Lower your weapon, elf,” the burly ranker who had me in his grip said. “And, stifle your aura. This isn’t the place for infighting.”

Any place was a good place for infighting as long as it involved Byron. But, I had to salvage my reputation. If he had gone out of his way to use an item to make me look bad, I couldn’t begin to imagine what else he had planned.

“I apologize for my outburst,” I said, after a deep breath, “but Byron isn’t who he pretends to be. He ambushed my party two days ago and forced us to separate. He meant to kill us.”

“Bold lies,” Beelith snapped. “For an elf.”

“What’s there to lie about?” I replied, looking around for support. “You all know his reputation. Is any of what I said beyond belief?”

The rankers lowered their gazes. I’d seen the way they cowered whenever Byron walked into a room. They might fear him enough to follow, but not enough that they considered him a saint.

“I don’t know,” a young Ranger in an arming cap said. “I won’t deny that Red Wyrm scares the shit out of me. However, when my party was on the verge of being destroyed, Byron showed up to defeat the chimeras. Maybe he isn’t malicious. Just misunderstood?”

“Byron helped me too!” a second fellow said. “He shared the spoils of an item room with us, even though he didn’t have to!”

“And let’s not forget,” another piped up, “he’s the one who gathered this force. We wouldn’t have survived the battles from earlier were it not for his guidance. And, we wouldn’t have arrived at your hour of need either, elf, were we as short-sighted as you.”

A chorus of yeahs followed.

Byron frowned. “You give me too much credit, all of you. I’m only doing what I’d hoped the strongest rankers had done in my time. The Labyrinth contains more than enough treasure for everyone to partake in . . . as long as we work together.”

As long as we worked with him? Only a toddler would fall for that ruse. So, why the hell were these adults drinking up his every word?

My blood froze as the answer struck me. He had also Charmed them. Subtly enough to remove their reservations about him, but not enough to reveal what he had done.

“As for you, Dark Elf,” Byron continued, “I tire of your lies. You accuse me of doing exactly what you did when you murdered Team Amaranth before the festival.” He rolled his shoulders. “Everyone knows my power level with respect to yours. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here to tell it. I did nothing wrong in coming to your aid, yet you greet me with blade poised rather than gratitude.”

“We should have left them to die!” Beelith snapped.

“No, please,” the female Ranger who had attempted to flee earlier said. “Take me with you. I’m not like him. I swear! He’s not even one of us.”

What?

“He’s not one of them?” the burly ranker said as I struggled to find the words. “Why are you here then, elf?”

“Probably to finish off the wounded,” Beelith said, “and loot their gear.” She stifled a laugh, enjoying the scene way more than she should.

The youth in the arming cap glared. “Is that true, Dark Elf? If you desecrated human corpses—”

“I didn’t,” I spat. “Listen, all of you! Byron’s manipulating you. He has a ring—!” I ducked to avoid a fruit thrown at my head.

“Fucking sword ears,” someone yelled. “You continue with your lies!”

“Blight of Vizhima!” another said.

“If you ever meet an elf and a snake, kill the elf!”

The rankers inched toward me, bristling with loathing. Byron and his cronies smirked in the background.

“You don’t understand . . .” I stuttered.

Why wasn’t anyone speaking for me? I glanced back at Mathideus and found him still gathered with the other members of Glamring. But, they had shifted enough to reveal the target of their attention.

Mathideus swayed on his knees, staring glassy-eyed into the distance. His spiky-haired partner hovered beside him and rested a bloodied hand on his shoulder. The Shaman stood with arms clasped over his head.

And, coiled in front of them, cold and unmoving, lay the final member of Glamring—Purple Hair himself—with a bone sword buried deep in his skull.

“What say you in your defense?” the burly ranker asked, grabbing me by the front of my vest.

“Careful with this one,” Byron said. “You must have noticed his aura. He is attuned to Fear.”

The burly ranker paled and let go of my vest. His companions, who had erstwhile acted like wolves on the hunt, stiffened at his words.

“T-the Lord of T-terror?” the boy in the arming cap said. “The elf plans to bring doom on all of Skeelie!”

“Grab him!” someone said. “Don’t let him escape!”

I backed away from their grubby fingers and smacked those who managed to touch me. My actions only served to agitate them, and blades appeared in their hands.

I turned tail and ran.

Missiles and insults sailed over my head. But, it was the blank look on Purple Hair's face that struck me as I ran past Glamring.

He would never cast another [Dome] again.