“You,” Byron said, cold steel flowing into his voice.

“Yes, me,” I replied and winked at him.

Byron twitched with intent to wipe the smirk from my face. Fortunately, I was too far back for him to reach without plowing through multiple people.

A part of me argued that I should have avoided confronting Byron without Nalum and his clansmen for backup. But, I couldn’t let the golden opportunity slip past my fingers. When next would I stumble upon the coalition amid a disagreement? If Byron suppressed the dissenting voices now, they would be less inclined to rebel again later.

Sadly, the events of my last run-in with the coalition army had not been forgotten. The hateful rhetoric quickly resurfaced.

“It’s the elf!” someone said. “How did he get here?”

"He's obviously been following us. Hiding while we did all the fighting?"

“Nasty sword ears. We should have gutted him then!”

“Listen to me,” I roared, losing my cool in the face of their insults. “I’ve seen what lies at the center of the dungeon. It’s a massive altar built for blood. And, you all are meant to be the sacrifice!”

Byron laughed. “A lone elf with no friends or notable feats to his name somehow made it to the dungeon heart? I know your kind are vicious murderers, but I didn’t expect you to also tell lies for sport.”

“Twenty blood sacrifices,” I spat. “These are the numbers demanded at the center of the dungeon. The entire point of the wide corridors in this area is to encourage the various parties to group up before challenging the final chamber!”

“Lies—”

“The final test doesn’t care about unity or strength! It only tests the resolve of those willing to do everything to achieve their desire!”

“I tire of your nonsense—”

“And, Byron knows this,” I ended, pointing at his face. “Which is why he intends to drag you all to the finish line whether you want it or not.”

A deep silence descended over the group.

Byron sneered. “You could have saved us the trouble by saying you want the treasure all to yourself.”

“But, if that is correct,” the raven-haired woman from earlier said. “What does he gain by doing this? If the elf simply wanted the dungeon heart, he could have stayed unnoticed while leaving us to do the heavy lifting.” The wild look reappeared in her eyes. “Why try to turn us away?”

“I’m sure he has a plan—”

“Did you know about this?” Raven Hair asked Mathideus. “Your family is considered to be the foremost experts on the Labyrinth.”

Mathideus stared at me with a pained expression. “I have heard of no such thing. But, I am also the first of my kindred to make it this far. No one has seen the final chamber since its reemergence.”

“No one but this vile elf,” Byron added. “Surely, you understand how ludicrous that sounds.”

Raven Hair placed her finger on her chin. The rest of the crowd waited with bated breath, deferring to her as the chief dissenter.

“That may be so, Mathideus,” she said at length. “You might also be lying.”

Mathideus paled. “I swear on my honor—”

“I don’t know if he's lying,” I interjected at that moment. “But, the truth of the matter cannot be sugar-coated. Should all of you make it to the final chamber, twenty would perish. And Byron knows this. His entire plan hinges on bringing you all to the final lap alive.”

“What do you want, elf?” Byron snapped. “Why do you harass me at the slightest opportunity?”

“Stop playing the victim—”

“Victim? Is that what you call this? We had a confrontation at the tavern that has since been settled with a duel, yet you’ve hounded me relentlessly ever since! You attacked me unprovoked in the middle of the guild. You eliminated a party of adventurers because you thought we might be affiliated. And now, this?”

“That’s a convenient way to spin the truth—”

“What is, you wretch? The fact that you were the last person to establish contact with Team Amaranth before their disappearance? Or the fact that you have been shadowing Mathideus and me without any intent to contribute to the preservation of these lives?”

Raven Hair threw me a suspicious glance.

“Look,” I said, “ I’m not going to get into any of all that with you. You played me like a goddamn fiddle the last time. And, that is on me—”

“So, this is your revenge for perceived grievances?”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“This is my last attempt to reveal you for the bastard you really are!” I looked around the crowd. “Seriously, this is Byron we are talking about. The Byron—of Red Wyrm! Do you think he is helping you out of the goodness of his heart? He intends to butcher you!”

“Yet, all I have done,” Byron said, “since the dungeon run began is rescue and defend all who I came across. The same can’t be said for you, elf. Who here owes their life to your intervention?”

Um, a few people in Mathideus' party. But, considering they didn't raise their hands, they might as well be bigots. Or dead.

Byron raised his axe. “I have never seen the dungeon heart. But, I intend to make history by being the first of this generation to do so. Anyone who fights beside me will share in that glory. If you wish to believe the elf, I won't begrudge you. But, I don’t plan on listening to his drivel any longer.”

“Then get lost,” I said. “Continue on your way and leave these people behind. They want nothing to do with you!”

Raven Hair snorted. “That may be the case, but I’m not letting a fucking elf tell me what to do. I might not agree with Byron, but he is human at least, which is more than I can say for you.”

Wait, what? You’re bringing the race card into this now?!

I turned to the only person who could understand me. “Mathideus?”

Mathideus grimaced and scratched his chin. “I suspect you are a person of good character, Damien. But, you indeed have unresolved issues with Byron. Is that what this is about?”

“You know it isn’t!”

“Then, it is your word against his,” Mathideus said, “and against ours too. If what you say is true, it implicates all of us who formed this coalition. And, let me be clear: I have no such ulterior motive.”

“Then, what about this?” Mathideus’ spiky-haired partner said. “Assuming the elf has truly been to the final chamber, his claim should be easy enough to prove. If we scout ahead and things are as he says, we don’t need to continue.”

“I’m fine with this,” Byron said.

“As am I,” Mathideus added. “This is probably the best resolution given the circumstances. Right, Damien?”

No . . . not right. I hadn’t arrived at the final chamber via the usual means. There was a lot I didn’t know about the environment or its rules, and I couldn’t reveal the Traveler’s Room to this crowd either.

Byron also looked nonplussed about the turn of events, which was all the warning signs I needed. If things played out like Glamring proposed, then I had just tossed a wrench into his plans. Unless . . . he had countermeasures for this.

Once they got to the final chamber, there would be no escape.

“No—” I started.

Howls echoed from further up the corridor. A nearby explosion rocked the ground.

The crowd of rankers turned to watch a large wolf barrel in our direction. Three rankers followed behind her. And, behind them, a small army of Cynocephali.

“Byron!” Beelith cried through her lupine maw.

Byron grabbed his shield. “Wards. Casters. Now.”

Magic attacks brightened the corridor with practiced precision. They sailed over the heads of the fleeing rankers and bombarded the chimeras. The assault bought Beelith’s party the time they needed to reach our position, but the chimeras continued in pursuit.

Raven Hair pulled an item out of her inventory, some kind of wand, and waved it above her head. A ripple passed through the air, causing the hair to rise on my nape. The Cynocephali slowed to a crawl, and then they wandered away from the corridor with glazed eyes, as though they hadn’t been chasing prey just two seconds ago.

Beelith ditched her wolf form and doubled over to pant. The other members of Red Wyrm: the Mage, the Warlock, and a fourth ranker I didn’t recognize, sprawled on the ground around her.

I had been wondering where Byron’s loyal minions had disappeared to and was thoroughly pleased by their absence. Couldn’t I catch a break?

“Beelith?” Byron said, kneeling beside her. He reached for her shoulders with kind fingers that betrayed none of the evil in his heart.

“We found it, Byron,” Beelith hissed, bearing a mouth full of fangs despite dispelling [Bestial Shape]. “The last chamber! It’s defended by a plethora of chimeras, but it is possible to force our way through.”

Byron’s eyes glinted. “How far away?”

“About one kilometer,” the unidentified ranker said. “But, we must hurry. We spotted another group of rankers heading for it!”

The crowd of rankers murmured among themselves.

“Then, the time to act is now,” Byron said, raising his shield. He glared at the group. “You’ve heard our arguments, and you’ve heard that of the elf. We’ll abandon the prize if it proves too difficult for us to achieve. But, I won’t stop here. Let true sons and daughters of Vizhima follow after me.”

“You plan to kill these people!” I said.

“And, you have goals that don’t align with ours. Who do you work for, elf? And why are you so focused on stopping our unison?”

His words this time hit me like a deluge of icy water. The fact that the scouts had spied another group of rankers headed for the dungeon heart didn’t help my case. Even Raven Hair, who was Byron’s second biggest hater in the gathering, shot me a look of distrust.

“Follow us, Damien,” Mathideus said. “If your words are true, I promise to put an end to this the first chance I get.”

"You couldn't even save your teammate," I replied.

Mathideus recoiled at my words.

“We've rested enough,” Byron said and marched to the forefront. “Everyone, move out!”

The crowd dispersed, and then they broke camp and assembled into a predetermined formation. I pleaded with them for all I was worth, but although a few uncertain eyes glanced my way, none paid heed to my words.

“Mathideus,” I said, grabbing his shoulder. “Listen to me! You’re all going to die!”

“I’m already dead, Damien,” Mathideus said, prying my fingers off his cuirass, none too gently. “Death has become a companion, not an enemy.”

“Your mind is clouded with grief!”

Mathideus patted my shoulder. “Come with us, Damien. Your presence will help put my mind at ease. Maybe we can save everyone together.”

“I'm sorry, but I cannot.”

A sad smile graced his lips. “Then, this is goodbye. We’ll meet again once this madness is over. For both our sakes, I truly hope you are wrong.”

He jogged after the rest of the party and joined the rear of the coalition alongside the surviving members of Glamring.

That second sentence of his had to be the worst death flag I’d ever heard, but I wasn’t about to sit back and moan impotently at yet another defeat.

I turned back the way I came and found a rocky encampment built into the dungeon wall. A trio of chimeras pawed curiously at it, but I ignored them and scaled the walls.

“Damien?” Nicola gasped and roused from [Meditation]. “Did you find them?”

Nalum and his clansmen shook themselves awake.

“I did,” I said, resisting the urge to curse. “Change of plans. Byron and his people are forging ahead. We’ll intercept them at the final chamber.”