I’d known that Nicola packed a pretty mean punch, but there was something special about seeing her at work.

She slapped the limb of a lion roach aside with her magic staff, and then she activated her [Summon Tentacle] spell to pull herself out of the frontline.

The [Bloom of Crimson Desire] collapsed into purple motes of light, its purpose spent. But, the havoc it had wrought remained.

Nicola’s companions focused their attacks on one Cynocephalus and killed it before it could regain its bearings. They renewed their assault on the weaker roaches, but the sheer mass of the infestation left the rankers overwhelmed.

I could remedy that.

The air shimmered as [Fear Aura] suffused the corridor. The shadows that obscured me improved its effectiveness, adding a potency I could almost taste on my lips. All of the monsters below silver rank froze on their feet. [System] messages notified me of multiple Dismays.

The three unfamiliar rankers gaped at the sudden turn of events.

Nicola instead gasped into her palms. “Damien?”

“Watch out,” I screamed because the Cynocephali had not been affected.

One of them barreled its way through the lesser monsters and dove at Nicola with its blade.

A beam of black energy boiled the air. It rose from Nicola’s staff and launched the monster clean across the corridor.

The evil energy distorted the space around it, as though at war with reality itself. Harsh whispers reverberated from the beam, spoken in a language I couldn’t decipher. The strange words invaded my ears and clawed their way into my head . . .

“Nicola!”

The spell ended the next instant, dispelling its effects. The monster it had struck collapsed from the impact, having suffered massive damage to form and spirit.

I shook my head to clear it and rushed to help with the rest of the fight. Between the five of us, the monsters fell in short order.

“Damien!” Nicola said and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it.”

I let her hug me and enveloped her in one of my own. She desperately needed a shower—we both did, what with a week’s worth of blood and sweat. But, my gosh, it was so good to see her alive.

“How have you been?” I managed to say and pressed my chin into her hair. “That attack of yours packed one hell of a punch.”

Nicola chuckled or sniffled, an action that her tears made difficult to interpret. “I knew you’d like it. I selected it as a reward for reaching level twenty. It’s called [Eldritch Beam].”

Oh, wow. That was so unfair. Here I was praying for a [Shadow Arm Darkness Mind Laser Pulse Cannon], and Nicola had unlocked something similar out of her affinity. The [System] didn’t need to rub it in my face.

I was just about to inquire about Paz’s whereabouts when I felt a large hand clamp down on my shoulder.

“Some nerve you’ve got, elf,” a baritone voice said, “laying your hands on the warlord’s woman.”

I frowned at the man and wrestled the brief surge of irritation that begged me to draw my knife.

He was one of the Beast Riders, the one with the bow. His dark skin and tribal markings identified him as a member of a clan of foreigners that had caught my eyes a few times around the guild.

I was in no mood to offer niceties, however. Definitely not to a ranker of his level. “Sod off.”

The Rider blinked.

“Aman,” his broadsword-wielding companion said. “That is not how to speak to one of the Favored.”

“But, warlord . . .” Aman said.

The warlord shook his head. He strode up to me and dismissed his broadsword. Then, placing his hand on his chest, he offered it up in the manner Nana’s kin had once demonstrated.

“Greetings, favored one,” he said. “This one of lowly stature apologizes for his cousin’s transgression. However, he speaks no lies. The woman you hold is to be my wife.”

I glanced at Nicola, who met my gaze with frantic eyes.

Just play along!

“Err, yeah, well,” I said. “No harm intended, I guess. Just ensure it doesn’t occur again.”

It was the first time I had ever been treated with honorary status on account of my race. Sadly, I had no experience acting haughty.

“You are too kind,” the warlord said, even as Aman grumbled in the background. “You may call this one Nalum. May I request that you release my wife?”

Nalum sported better muscle definition than his companions, who were all well-defined even by ranker standards. All three came nowhere close to me in height but made up for it with muscles as dense as rocks. Considering that attributes did little for the physique, their musculature showcased an impressive zeal to build by exercise.

Such features failed to wow me these days, however. And, I wasn’t about to lose Nicola again without putting up a fight.

“You have nothing to worry about, love,” Nicola said and extricated herself from my embrace.

She sidled up to the warlord and fixed me with a pointed look. “Damien here is one of my companions—one of those who I have been searching for. We were simply swept up in a brief moment of excitement.”

What the hell is happening here, Nicola?

Her pointed expression remained.

Despite my reservations, I returned the elvish greeting. It came out with enough sloppiness that Mavari would have suffered an aneurysm. “Yeah, what she said. Damien Njoku, at your service, warlord. May your blade be stained forever in the blood of your enemies, assuming that passes as a greeting.”

Nalum beamed. However, before he could speak, the second Rider loped up to us, still on his phantom beast.

“More enemies,” the man hissed and gestured with his spear, “headed south toward our direction. Unless we want to drown in them, I suggest we get moving.”

Nicola tugged on her hat in frustration. “There’s no possible direction we could travel in that would keep us away from that horde. The dungeon spawns have quadrupled in number. We’ll run out of renewables before making any progress.”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“That’s the idea, yes,” I said. “The Labyrinth has upped its defenses. A group of rankers draw ever closer to the dungeon heart.”

Nicola’s companions didn’t appreciate that tidbit.

“No!” Aman said. “We can’t afford to lose the dungeon heart to anyone else. Warlord, we must proceed!”

“And, die during the next attack?” Nicola asked in a steady tone. “We need a breather.”

Aman didn’t care. “Retreat is not an option, warlord. We must move forward or return to the clan in shame.”

Ah. Another Mathideus. It seemed Vizhima never ran short of idiots bound by honor. They were almost as dangerous as the types bound by ambition since they failed to heed common sense.

Nalum nodded as his cousin spoke, unsure of the best manner to proceed. His party needed to recover from the onslaught, that much was true, but expediency was also important if they didn’t want to lose their prize.

“I know a safe place to meditate in,” I said at length, recalling the nearby item room. “We won’t need to retreat, and you may decide on your next course of action without the pressure of battle.”

Nalum looked surprised at my suggestion. “You’d do that for us, favored one?”

“Well, yes.” Plus, I wasn’t about to let Nicola die because of these fools.

“Lead the way, then,” he said and summoned his broadsword.

The rest of his clansmen fell in step behind him.

I ran alongside Nicola at the forefront, unable to keep a stupefied expression from creeping up on my face. “Wife? Really?”

Nicola groaned.

We made it to the item room after another difficult encounter.

Nalum stalked around the room, inspecting the empty shelves. His companions slipped away to [Meditate], dismissing their phantom mounts in the process.

I sat beside Nicola and offered her a piece of bread. She ate in silence, a subdued expression on her face.

“Wife?”

Nicola scowled. “That’s the umpteenth time you’ve mentioned the word, Damien.”

“And, you keep refusing to answer. How did that happen?”

Nicola studied me from under her thick lock of hair. “I was a single breath away from death, Damien. The dungeon had just transported me into a nest of juvenile lion roaches. I had to fight my way out.”

“Crap,” I whispered, inhaling sharply. “How many?”

“Hundreds. I leveled up twice within the first few seconds. However, with no breathing room to refill my reserves, I was one step away from becoming a meal for nymphs. Nalum and his clansmen arrived to save me. We barely escaped afterward.”

“And you hit them with a good, ol' dose of [Ecstasy], thereafter?”

Nicola growled low in her throat. “I didn’t do anything! Granted, I’d activated the spell earlier to get some roaches off my back. But, the clansmen are weird. Nalum took one look at me and decided that we were fated to marry.”

“You didn’t have to play along, Nicola.”

“Well, tell that to a solo ranker who was stuck bleeding all over an insect’s nest!”

Ouch. “My bad. It was wrong of me to judge.”

Nicola took a few seconds to calm her breathing. “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t deny my part. Nalum had been informed by an oracle that he would meet his fated one during his time in Skeelie. And, he seemed willing to listen to my every demand under the veil of courtship.

“I could have turned him down. But, I couldn’t hope to find you on my own. He’s also treated me with nothing but kindness thus far.”

We lapsed into a bout of silence.

“Not a bad deal in all,” I finally said. “You will look great in a wedding dress.”

Nicola lobbed a clump of bread at my head. “Oh, shut it.”

“What?” I said with a chuckle. “You’ve moved up in life. No more slumming around in swamps with this Dark Elf. You’re now the warlady of a clan of warriors.”

“I’m not going to marry him, Damien.”

“Why not? It would be good for you. Apart from the wealth of resources he probably has at his disposal, he is one of those alpha-type dudes with bigger muscles than Paz. Think about all the Eros—”

She lunged at my throat.

We eventually had to break up our antics when Nalum sent us a curious gaze.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die,” Nicola said in a small voice.

“Me too,” I said and slung my arm around her shoulder. Nalum might be her suitor, but Nicola was family. More so than blood. “All we need to do is find Paz, and our trio will be complete again.”

“You don’t think he has already made it to the center of the Labyrinth?”

“Oh, I think he will. Paz . . . how do I say this? Paz emits main character energy. I doubt ordinary teleportation is going to stop him.”

“True.” Nicola leaned into my shoulder. “What about you? How did you survive your fight with the roaches?”

“Uh . . . I didn’t get transported into a nest. I got sent back to the starting area.”

Nicola bolted upright. “Spill.”

I did as she requested, covering my adventure from the Traveler’s Room to Mathideus and the fight with the rogues. I omitted the parts about Kajal and [Migrant Soul]s. Not because I didn’t trust Nicola. But, because I wasn’t ready to oust myself as anything other than an elf.

Nicola’s breath hitched as I spoke. “You killed three rankers of that level all by yourself? Damien, that’s incredible!”

I rubbed my neck in faux humility. “Aw, shucks, they weren’t that strong . . .”

“And, this Traveler’s room,” Nicola continued. “It can transport you anywhere within the Labyrinth?”

“Only to locations within range of a dungeon room. But, I’d like to keep this between us until I've fully understood the implication.”

Nicola’s eyes drifted to Nalum who lingered a short distance away. “That would be for the best. But, you’re thinking small, Damien. With such utility at your fingertips, why didn't you snatch the dungeon heart?”

“Well, about that . . .”

The brightness in Nicola's eyes dimmed as I told her about my encounter in the final chamber. Before I finished the tale, a pensive frown colored her features.

“The receptacle responds to the loss of ranker HP?” she asked.

“Measures it, more like. Every bit of damage contributes to its progress, but it wouldn’t hit a round figure until a life has been lost . . .” I pondered the dilemma some more. “There’s also a chance that it could be satisfied with the mere emptying of health meters. But, anyone with low enough HP isn't guaranteed to survive a strike.”

“Not if they use potions . . .”

“Oh, wow. I hadn’t thought of that. The meter reset on me when I left the area. But, I guess, I should have stayed long enough to determine how it worked.”

“And, risk your life against the enenras?” Nicola shook her head. “Twenty rankers are needed to pass the final test. Or, ten rankers, equipped with health potions. The Labyrinth wants them dead before they can enter the final chamber. And, if not dead . . .”

“Devoid of HP, at least,” I finished.

“Which is as good as dead.” Nicola chewed her lip. “This makes no sense. Of what use is ritual sacrifice to a dungeon? If blood is all that is needed to obtain the dungeon heart, why put everyone through so much trouble? Many monarchs would willingly sacrifice a hundred criminals to gain access to a dungeon’s treasures.”

“Many monarchs would,” I said in agreement, “but how many monarchs can gather a hundred rankers to offer up in sacrifice?”

Nicola stiffened. “I see where you are going with this, Damien, but your line of thinking contradicts all I’ve been taught. Dungeons exist to challenge rankers and reward their bravery. The deaths are only a consequence of that.”

“You say this with certainty, yet you don’t know where dungeons get their power or their sustenance from.”

“You think the Labyrinth was created to feast on rankers?”

I didn’t know what to think. But, talking with Nicola helped cement an uneasy suspicion. One that had grown right from the moment I’d seen the dungeon devour corpses.

“Anyway,” Nicola said. “We have a case where the number and frequency of dungeon spawns have ramped up to unbearable levels. If the dungeon's goal is to coax enough people to the final chamber, shouldn’t the opposite be the case?”

“Maybe, that is the point?” I said. “The increased difficulty would force rankers to cooperate, leaving them ripe for mass annihilation at the end.”

“Heralds, Damien. That sounds more damning than you think. If word of that ever gets out, the festival would be terminated.”

“And, that brings us to the current problem. Word of this did get out, to one person at least. Yet, he leads an army of rankers to the final chamber in the hope of a slaughter.”

Nicola’s eyes widened.

“I know you need the dungeon heart. But, I can’t justify winning it at the cost of all those lives.” I glanced at Nalum and turned back to her. “How useful are the kinsmen in a fight? Because I think it is time we settled old grievances.”