374 days until the Arkon Shield falls

8 hours until Dungeon Purge

Chief Zel Foghorn,

Captain Zumen’s squad is late checking in. I am sure your son is fine, but I have sent a patrol to check on him. I will report back as soon as I receive word from them.

—Captain Grul Firespawn.

This time, the winged horror did not launch into an attacking dive. Taking up position above the party, it glared down at us.

You have forged life magic conduits to the players Jain, Liyanda, Pierre, and Cedric.

To prepare for the upcoming clash, I cast flared conduit between myself and the others. I didn’t bother with wilting waze, though. The spell could only be placed on solid ground, and I wasn’t sure where—or even if—the horror would land.

“It certainly looks angry,” Cedric commented, craning his head upwards to eye the hissing creature.

“Advance to the center of the room,” Jain ordered.

“You’re sure?” Liyanda asked, not taking her eyes off the hovering creature.

“Yes,” the rogue replied. “Once the horror attacks, we’ll need room to maneuver.”

Swinging about so we kept the horror in our sights, we backed deeper into the chamber.

“Now what?” Liyanda asked, lowering her shield when our foe didn’t follow after.

“We wait,” Jain said. “It will come. The creature is too furious for anything else.”

I agreed with the rogue’s assessment and didn’t relax my grip on my staff. A little later, the horror advanced on us again, this time gradually dropping in altitude as it approached.

“Spread out,” Jain commanded.

We stepped backward, forming a loose half-circle. I was near the outside of our formation, with only Liyanda farther left of me. The horror headed straight for Pierre in the center.

“Fire!” Jain ordered when the creature was ten yards out. Lowering my staff, I took aim at our foe’s head. To my right, I sensed Pierre and Cedric doing the same. A second later, a wave of steel, death, and fire hurtled towards the horror.

All three attacks failed.

Raising its arm at the last moment, the creature shielded its face from the triple volley with its broad forearm.

“Again,” Jain barked tersely.

But there was no time for a second assault. Abruptly altering course, the horror made a beeline straight for me. Realizing my danger, I released the weaves of fire ray I held in my mind and spun the spellform of flare instead.

The horror flapped its wings hard, and in a burst of speed, shot forward. I raised my staff, ready to release dragonfire.

Before I could do so, Liyanda hurled herself forward, ramming into the creature less than three feet from me. The big fighter led her charge with her tower shield out front and struck the monster squarely in the midriff.

Despite its speed and size, the horror was flung off course and fell to the ground in a sprawl. Liyanda managed the collision better. Rolling out of her tumble, she left her shield where it had fallen and took up her broadsword in a two-handed grip.

Seeing the fighter advance on the horror, I let flare’s spell weaves lapse—the danger of Liyanda being caught in the crossfire was too great—and began casting freezing sphere instead. While I did, I risked a quick glance at the others. Pierre and Cedric were retreating while Jain, blades out, was circling around our foe to approach it from the rear.

Two feet from the downed horror, Liyanda raised her sword up high, preparing to strike. Our foe, though, was more wily than we gave it credit for. Its still-sprawled posture was only an act.

Moving uncannily fast, the horror’s left wing flashed upwards to slam into Liyanda. The fighter was sent tumbling through the air. This time she wasn’t able to cushion her fall and crashed hard into the unyielding ground. I winced at the impact. Even from a few yards away, the sound of splintering bones was audible.

The horror rose to its feet, left-wing tightly furled behind it and right, hanging loose. It glared at me, leaving me in no doubt that I was its next target.

I backed away, still weaving freezing sphere.

From my right, both Pierre and Cedric struck at the creature again. The attacks did not give the horror pause, though. Curling around its torn wing into a shield, the monster protected the rest of its body with the damaged appendage.

The monster took a menacing step forward, its gaze fixed on me the entire time. My eyes darted left and right, searching for a way out of my predicament. Liyanda was still slumped on the floor, and Jain was nowhere to be seen.

Where was the rogue?

About to abandon freezing sphere in favor of flare, the thought gave me pause. I only knew Jain for a short time, but he didn’t strike me as the sort to abandon his party.

He won’t run, I thought. Jain must be up to something. Deciding to trust the rogue, I completed the spell construct of freezing sphere in my mind and held it ready.

The horror advanced another step. I stood my ground. A second hole punched through the creature’s right-wing, courtesy of Cedric’s and Pierre’s ongoing attacks. But other than for a slight tightening of its eyes, the horror ignored the assault. It was risking permanent damage to its wing to get at me.

My foe closed again, placing itself less than five feet away from me and within the envelope of freezing sphere. I still didn’t release my spell.

The horror took another step. I swallowed. I couldn’t wait much longer. Where is Jain?

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Right on cue, a blurred shape sprang out from the horror’s shadow. It was the rogue. The tension in me eased. Mid-leap, Jain dropped out of stealth, revealing the blade he held in each hand.

The bald man landed on the horror’s back and curled his legs around its neck. Surprise flitted across the creature’s face. Before it could react though, the rogue plunged his twin blades into its exposed throat, burying them hilt-deep into flesh. Both blows looked fatal.

Even then, the horror refused to die.

The monster reached upwards to claw at the human on its shoulders, and realizing the time to act had come, I materialized freezing sphere.

Threads of mana rippled out of me, bathing everything within five feet in the chill of an arctic winter. In an instant, the horror, the rogue on its back, and me all slowed to half-speed. Startled by this second unexpected assault, the creature froze in momentary shock.

Jain’s eyes widened too as he felt the spell’s effect, but he didn’t waste the opportunity afforded by our foe’s sudden distraction. Sliding down the horror’s back in slow motion, he made his escape.

Recovered from its surprise, the horror resumed the upward extension of its arms. But it was too late. The rogue was already out of reach. I released freezing sphere and stepped back. Bringing up my staff, I readied myself to flare.

But the adrenaline that had given the horror impetus to act while impaled had faded. As the ice covering it receded, the creature swayed, then fell.

I lowered my staff. It was dead.

We’d won.

✽✽✽

The winged horror’s death was succeeded by an avalanche of Trials messages that heralded the dungeon’s completion.

Around me, I heard the others gasp in delight, but I let my own alerts lie for a moment. Through the conduit connecting me to the rest of the party, I saw that Liyanda needed urgent attention. She’d hit her head hard—which was why she was still down—and had suffered multiple fractures, bruises, and cuts. Thankfully though, all her injuries were repairable with lay hands.

“God, that hurts,” Liyanda groaned when I was done healing her.

I chuckled. “The horror did get you pretty good.”

“Is it dead?” the fighter asked as I helped her to her feet.

“See for yourself,” I said.

The fighter swung around to study the corpse, and twin blades still sticking out of it. “Good,” she grunted.

A moment later, her eyes unfocused. “By damn,” she whispered. Her jaw dropping open, she forgot me entirely as she scanned her waiting Trials messages.

The rewards are that good, eh? I thought with a smile. Turning my gaze inwards, I checked on my own alerts.

You have gained in experience and are now a level 68 Trainee.

Your party has completed the unique, single-instance unranked dungeon: Champions’ Arena. Calculating player achievements...

For vanquishing this dungeon, you have been awarded the Trait: Arena Champion Sinclair.

Trait: Arena Champion Sinclair. Rank: unique. For every creature champion defeated in the Arena, this Trait grants you 10 free skill levels in a Discipline of your choice. These free levels are not capped by your player level and may exceed it. You must make your choice of Discipline within 1 hour. If you fail to make a choice by then, this Trait will be lost.

Beware, the dungeon run time limit is still active. Time remaining before the dungeon is purged: 8 hours. Exit the dungeon before then.

I grinned, giddy with delight. The Trials’ reward was an unlooked-for gift. Forty free skill points in a Discipline of my choice—that was stupendous!

The new Trait meant that even though I remained a Trainee, I could raise my chosen Discipline to Seasoned rank, but only after I visited a dragon temple, of course.

I glanced at the others. Liyanda had already joined them, I saw. From their furious whispering, I could only assume they had been similarly gifted. They had to be discussing their choices.

As to my own decision… I had no hesitation in making it. Taking in a calming breath, I willed my selection to the Trials.

You have chosen to apply the Trait, Arena Champion Sinclair, to the Discipline of dragon magic. Trait updated.

Trait: Arena Champion Sinclair. Rank: unique. This Trait grants you 40 free skill levels in the Discipline of dragon magic.

Your skill in dragon magic has advanced to level 95.

A wave of dizziness passed over me, and I squeezed my eyes shut to settle myself. Eventually, the sensation passed, though my head still buzzed with new concepts and ideas.

“Oh, my,” I murmured. In a handful of seconds, my knowledge of dragon magic had almost doubled. I understood so much more of it now, and for a moment, I could only marvel at the change.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

I swung around. Jain was standing behind me. “It does,” I agreed, having no doubt about what he was referring to.

“Thanks for tending to Liyanda,” Jain said. “We all got a little caught up in the Trials messages and forgot to check on her,” he finished somewhat sheepishly.

I smiled. “Completely understandable.”

“Come with me,” Jain said. “We have something for you.”

I looked at him curiously, but the rogue didn’t explain further and walked away. With a shrug, I followed him to the dead horror. Kneeling down, Jain reached within and yanked out its creature champion core. “This is for you,” he said, holding it out to me.

My gaze flitted from the item in Jain’s hand to his face. “Why?”

“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he replied.

Not voicing any further objections, I reached out and took the core. “Will you tell me what they are for now? I asked, more eager for the knowledge than the item itself.

Jain didn’t reply immediately or directly. Taking his time, the rogue studied me from head to foot. I felt an analyze ripple over me, too. I didn’t say anything though, only waited. If the rogue wasn’t prepared to reveal the cores’ secrets, I knew him well enough by now to know that I wasn’t going to convince him otherwise.

“I was skeptical of you at first,” Jain said eventually. “I couldn’t see how any player—unaided and without the resources we had—could reach level fifty-nine on his own. I thought that at best, you had a hidden overworlder sponsor, or at worst, you were an orcish collaborator.”

I shifted uncomfortably at the accusation. It was what I’d feared them to be.

“But after seeing your performance in the dungeon, I realized I was wrong,” Jain continued. “You are truly what you appear to be: a gifted player.”

Patiently, I waited for him to go on.

“Champion cores are highly prized and their various uses, a well-kept secret,” Jain said. “Many overworlders would kill you simply for possessing the knowledge. Are you sure you want to know what they are for?”

I laughed. “I’m already a hunted man, Jain.”

The rogue nodded but didn’t smile in response as I’d expected. He held my gaze for a moment, judging my conviction. “A core can be deconstructed and used to purchase Marks,” he said finally.

My eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed. “Take it with you when you next visit a Dragon Temple and place it on the pedestal inside. That will be enough to initiate the core’s deconstruction.”

“I’ll do that,” I replied, brimming with excitement at the idea. I had four cores now, and I wondered how many Marks they would yield. “How did you find out? Did your temple guide tell you?”

Jain’s brows furrowed. “Temple guide?”

I waved my hand. “You know, the little purple woman in the temple that is full of insults but very little advice?”

Jain’s face grew even more bewildered. “Jamie,” he said slowly, “The temples are unoccupied. Players enter alone and leave alone. No one is ever there except you.” He eyed me speculatively. “Have you encountered something inside a temple?”

“Oh, no. Of course not,” I said, backtracking. “But I’ve heard rumors of these temple creatures and assumed you must’ve learned about the cores from one of them,” I finished weakly.

Damnation! Why had I never thought to ask anyone if they had guides of their own before this?

I wasn’t sure if Jain bought my impromptu lie, but he said nothing else on the matter, and I could only hope he had. The last thing I needed was for yet another thing to mark me as different from other players.

“Well, the core is yours to do as you see fit,” Jain said. “Now, let’s get out of here before the dungeon collapses around us.”

I nodded in agreement, relieved at the change of subject. We’d been in the Arena for at least sixteen hours, and I expected it would be dark in the world outside. Still, better to spend the night there than in the dungeon. “What about that?” I asked, gesturing to the corpse. “Don’t you want Cedric to reanimate it?”

Jain shook his head. “No, we have days of hard travel ahead of us when we leave, and the undead will only slow us down.” Spinning around, the rogue called out to the others. “Pierre, lead the way. Time to head on out.”