After killing another dozen Carrion Eaters, the crypts became silent. Billy and Layla leaned against the walls, white-faced and gasping for breath.

Layla looked at the workers, who weren't even breathing hard. "How the hell do you people do this?"

All eyes turned to Squirmie.

While the Baron and Baroness pondered this revelation, Ozzy pulled out two bottles of wine and handed one to each of them. "Chug some of this down." They recognized Suzette's sparkling apple wine from the late-night butchering sessions and began to drink. Ozzy thought he knew the problem. "Are the two of you using Strike Undead on your hits? You shouldn't be out of stamina so fast."

Billy finished the entire bottle, then downed a stamina potion that Suzette handed him. "You aren't? You're killing ghouls in two hits with those axes! And Suzette is obliterating them with spells."

"Thought so. Save Strike Undead for the bosses. It drains half the damage you do in stamina. That isn't a big deal for a contract worker, but you don't have our little benefits. Instead, you have fancy spells and skills and combat maneuvers. I have over 18000 stamina now, but spending 125 every hit to do 250 isn't cost-effective against regular ghouls."

Billy looked at his meager stamina score of 1400. "18,000? What the bloody hell! Explain this shit. I'm feeling cheated. Layla and I are level 9 and not even a tenth of that."

Ben did his best to explain. "First, understand that our Butcher is a freak of nature and monster extraordinaire. Myself and Suzette are barely above ten thousand. Rolly?"

"Oh, Squirmie and I both have more than Ozzy."

Everyone was surprised by this revelation. Ozzy laughed, Ben was curious, and Suzette was enjoying the look on Layla's face.

Ben continued. "It's just a matter of simple math and the way ACME and the corporations tried to force us into the role of inexhaustible workers. You succeeded. Where you get 100 per level, we get 200. For most workers, STR and CON go up quickly as well. But with only the stamina we get and no bonus from stats, a level 9 worker would have 2000 stamina, and then the special ability kicks in, giving us triple that amount for 6000. But I'm sure we can develop a program of workouts to keep you moving up. Butchering and Ghouls is a good start. Make sure you raise your caps on STR and CON to 10 and max those stats. And spend points on gaining Spirit of the Bear and Spirit of the Ox. That will help a lot. You'll see some real gains when you hit Tier 3."

Billy looked around at the rest of the adventuring party. "Well, guess I should take the bug seriously. It's just a little disconcerting to find out I'm the low man on the totem pole."

"Can't argue with results like that. Let's get moving." Layla heaved herself up. "But, last question, what level is everyone at?"

"12, nearly 13. I gained a lot of levels in the smoke." Ozzy had also already maxed out his STR and Hack Undead skill, something he wouldn't tell Billy. Let him be envious. At 48 STR, he could kill these ghouls in one hit if he used Strike Undead.

Suzette said, "Level 11, right at the start. Ben, you're the same?"

Ben nodded, "Upgraded while on my vacation in the capital after killing a daemon and a paladin."

Rolly and Squirmy spoke at the same time. "Fifteen."

Again, everyone turned to look at them.

"Clean living and fighting in the Beastwoods or Hungrytown every night."

Billy was at his limit of surprises for now. "Onward, my overpowered minions. HR has given the Baroness and me the goal of Tier Three. We need to do a hell of a lot of power leveling."

The party continued with a humbled and cautious Baron and Baroness focusing on staying alive and being careful with their mana and stamina. Ben worked with Layla on her stance and attacks, suggesting she use a modified Zwiehander stance that used power from her hips and less from her shoulders. The powerful strokes were more restricted and less likely to hit Ben in the head on her back swings, a bonus as far as he was concerned. He could move up more and thrust with his Estoc by coordinating with her. A thrust from an electrified shaft of sharp steel hurt even the crazed undead, and when Ben added some extra damage from his storm cantrip, they glowed blue in the darkness and were stunned. This often allowed Layla to finish them off with a critical hit to their skull.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Billy was getting used to taunting the undead to pull them to him, then blocking with his shield and waiting for Ozzy to finish them. Suzette saved her mana and left the fighting to the front line. Billy slowly found his rhythm and began adding thrusts and slashes over the top of his shield. Both nobles were taking scratches and small bites from the undead, but with Suzette and Ben healing immediately as they took the wounds, their loss of health was small. Layla almost died to a double bite from two ghouls at once and slashes to her legs. Squirmie landed on her head and healed her until the situation could be got under control. The feeling of having a giant butterfly latch onto your head with six limbs to heal had been unnerving when it first happened, but as they went deeper and deeper into the dungeon, Squirmie healed all of them more and more, hopping from one person to another.

When thanked during a rest break, the bug smiled and said,

They moved further into the crypts, the tunnels branching into a grid pattern of small tunnels with niches for corpses and stacked bones. The bones were often jumbled and gnawed, the ghouls hoping to find any scrap of rotted flesh or marrow. They were attacked regularly by small groups of ghouls that heard them moving, and often Rolly and Squirmie played rear guard. Ben and Suzette kept an eye on them at first and then didn't worry about them again. Both Rolly and Squirmie were destroying a ghoul every couple of seconds. Both were fully encased in shimmering grey-silver dragon-scaled armor. Rolly employed two scythes that grew from his arms, while Squirmie's six legs ended in small, razor-sharp cleavers. They joked and made snappy banter with each other constantly, showing that they did indeed fight almost every night. Their teamwork was perfect as if they were one creature with two bodies.

After a time, they found a larger corridor that led to a courtyard with a dozen ghouls. They stayed in the tunnel entrance, forcing the undead to come at them a few at a time. After the fight, they took another break to heal their injuries and for Billy and Layla to eat Sedgewick Sausage and drink another bottle of wine. They were keeping up but slowly wearing out. After a half-hour break with only one small ambush, they continued on. The next area was an abattoir of gnawed bones and half-eaten corpses. The room resembled a Roman stadium with stone benches around the edges of the room, and rows of columns and archways going up six stories above that. Skeletons or partial corpses hung in the archways, along with what Suzette recognized as a legless, armless corpse of a Fae Lord hanging by its neck. She shuddered at the sight.

Ben was curious as always, "How do they decide which ghouls get to eat and which get eaten? I'm sure it's a stimulating conversation to listen to."

An ugly-sounding voice with a strange accent spoke from somewhere above. "Oh, it is. It is. The power struggles are exquisite, pitting one powerful creature against another. You would think that the strong would prey on the weak, but then only the strong would be left, and they never get along with each other. The arguments are made back and forth, sometimes in the High Latin of the old Empire, sometimes in bestial grunts and snarls. I must profess to be fond of the debates that use language; they last so much longer!"

Ben was looking up and started to step onto the sand in the center of the room as he looked for the voice. A cowled figure in the rotted robes of a priest stepped out of an alcove near the limbless corpse of the fae and waved his arms about, shouting. "No, No! They will attack if you enter the room, and I won't get any conversation! Desist!" Ben stopped his foot an inch from the sand and hopped backward.

"A trap of some sort?"

"Of course it is. Hungry Ghouls buried in the sand, released as you come near, led by a large toothed one named appropriately, Limb Eater. Oh, I don't think they are a match for your group. But please, perhaps a few words more? It's been so long since I heard the common tongue, and is that wine I smell? With the scent of sun and leaves? Perhaps we can bargain? I would so like the taste of wine and sunshine on my tongue again, even if it burns me."

Suzette looked at Ozzy, and he pulled a bottle of wine from his bag. She sat it down in front of her. "Tell me about the body next to you. How long ago did he die? Who was he?"

"What?! Dead? No, I checked him yesterday, and he was still fine! I hate to waste fresh meat." He moved to the hanging body and poked it with a sharp claw. The head jerked up, and one eye opened, but no sound came from the tongueless mouth as he tried to scream. "Ah, you were jesting with me. I was worried. Still fresh. As to a name, I'm sorry, but no one asked before that part of him was eaten."