Chapter 72: Onward to Ziragoth

If not for a random, level-3 Eep that Zach aggroed without even noticing, it was a virtual certainty that he would have died. That was the only possible conclusion he could draw as Chumpkenwiffles made a loud “Awoof! Awoof! Rrrrruuhf! R-r-r-r-rufh!” and fired dual laser beams out of her eyes. The dark tunnel briefly lit up and took on a reddish glow as both parallel-running lasers sailed across the dungeon floor on a trajectory that would have hit Zach right in the middle of his back. Though it probably wouldn’t have killed him outright while he was in Phase Level 1, it would’ve taken him clean off his feet, and then he would have died, likely at the hands of Fylwen—again. Luckily, however, that did not happen.

The Eep, which Zach had no recollection of even aggroing, flew down from the ceiling, swooped right over Zach’s head, and then soared directly into the line of fire. Despite hitting a mob, there was still a detonation as the laser met its end, albeit a smaller one, and it was a miracle that no one was taken off balance as a result of it. To fall, slow down, or halt in any way was out of the question. As things were, their odds of making it to B7 were steadily declining. Queen Vayra and her Elves had now drawn close enough that they were beginning to unleash arrows and magic at the seven of them. Although Olivir used various means to divert what he could, some were beginning to slip through his defenses.

Gods be damned, we’re so close!

Right now, Zach was running with his left hand pressed against the middle of Rian’s back and his right against Lienne’s, and he was literally shoving the two of them forward as he ran between them. Things had now progressed to the point where he would have carried them—with or without their consent—if it were only possible to do so without also requiring him to stop and work out the logistics of it. Due to their forward momentum and the shapes of their bodies, even trying to wrap an arm around each of them at the same time without knocking them or himself over, obscuring his vision, or dragging them in a dangerous way was too great a risk. So instead, he settled for literally shoving them along with just enough force to propel them but not enough to cause either of the two to stumble. Thankfully, they did not seem offended. If anything, they appeared grateful. Zach supposed neither of them was in the mood to die—and he wasn’t either, for that matter.

“Just a bit farther,” Zach said to them. “Please don’t give up. Force your legs to move!”

Both siblings were panting, but Rian in particular appeared especially run down. Zach knew his friend was not going to be able to last much longer. Sweat was pouring down his face like a leaky faucet, and only a moment ago, he’d dropped his axe and shield to relieve some of the weight, simply tossing them aside as though content to leave them behind forever—wisely, in Zach’s opinion. Clearly, the axe and shield were not worth his life, and Zach guessed that activating Bank and Storage and stowing his equipment away properly would be too difficult to do while fleeing wildly from a pack of angry Elvish warriors and their miserable, traitorous queen.

Rian’s mouth was opened wide, and he was taking large, audible, heaving gasps of breath. Even still, he raised his hand and made the OK symbol with his thumb and index finger along with firing Zach a brief, unconvincing grin. Despite trying to project reassurance, the sweat pouring down his eyes along with his gradually worsening posture belied the gesture of confidence. Zach decided to continue encouraging him. He needed to keep morale high for just a little while longer.

“Don’t worry,” he said to Rian. “We’re almost—”

“Zach!” Olivir cried. “Watch out!”

Caught unaware, Zach felt a jolt of alarm shoot through his chest as he glanced over his shoulder and saw another pair of lasers heading straight for him. Chumpkenwiffles was now running ahead of all the other Elves, and she’d come close enough now that Zach could actually hear her paws clicking down onto the surface of the large, tunnel-like passageway as she growled and attacked. This time, having fired from a much closer position, there was no time for Zach to react: there was no chance for him to dodge. He was going to be hit—or at least he should have been hit.

Yet for the second time in a row, a stray Eep that he could not recall aggroing decided to launch itself straight down from the ceiling and put itself in the path of Chumpkenwiffles’ lasers, absorbing the hit and becoming vaporized instantly. Undeterred, Chumpkenwiffles fired off yet another pair of lasers from her eyes, and then another one after that. But twice more, an Eep dropped down from above and took the hit. Mystified, Zach blinked his eyes several times to ensure he was really seeing this happen. To call this “lucky” would go beyond just putting it mildly. No, this was a level of luck that Zach could not even believe he possessed. What was the chance of that happening four times in a row? Probably pretty low. But then it happened again—and again, and again, and again!

Chumpkenwiffles, as though frustrated, began growling loudly and rapid-firing lasers while pivoting her head from left to right then back again like some kind of automated turret. The result was the dog sending out a barrage of lasers so fast that Zach couldn’t keep track of them all, and instead of aiming at just Zach, she now seemed desperate to hit anyone at all. Yet, with a loud, collective “Eep!” an entire horde of Eeps from deeper into the dungeon began to swarm the area behind Zach, creating something of a net that caught each and every one of the lasers, as well as every arrow and magic projectile that Olivir could not deflect.

I need to play the lottery if I live through this, Zach thought. The Gods are definitely on my side today!

Knowing how the universe tended to work, Zach should have known better than to let himself experience even a brief moment of renewed hope. Yet he allowed himself to do so anyway, and of course, it was ripped away from him not a second later. His moment of elation came to an abrupt, immediate end as he heard the voice of someone who had hurt him more than anyone else ever had before: Varsh and Ziragoth included. It came from somewhere behind the leading row of Elvish warriors, and it was a voice he would never forget no matter how much time passed. It was the voice of someone who had deceived and betrayed him: of a woman who had given him a scar that would never fully heal. It caused Zach to tremble in equal parts rage and fear.

“Adamus!” the voice cried from somewhere deeper into the tunnel and behind what sounded like dozens of angrily marching boots. “Where is your impartiality? Is this how you run things? Have you any shame?”

The sound of the voice sent a shiver rolling directly down Zach’s spine. Though he could not see her, as she was concealed behind several of the green-cloaked Elves, the voice was unmistakably that of Queen Fylwen Vayra, the woman who had intentionally tricked Zach into killing himself. He was also far from the only person to have an issue with her. A bit to Zach’s right and slightly behind him, he noticed a deep, vengeful scowl pop up onto Olivir’s face as Fylwen’s words reached his ears.

“What’s she yelling about?” Zach asked him.

“Ehh, I’ve got no idea, dude, but with her, it’s never anything good.”

“I’ve definitely heard that name before,” Zach said. “I just can’t remember where.”

“What name?”

“Adamus,” Zach clarified.

“Oh, he’s one of the Great Ones.”

“And why’s Queen Vayra ranting about him?”

Even while running for his life and fending off spells, Olivir managed a shrug. “Who knows? The woman’s nuts. Just ignore her and keep running.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

*****

As Prila removed her hands from her terminal and placed them onto her lap, the look that Adamus gave her was not one of anger or scorn, but rather one that seemed akin to fatherly disappointment. “That was clearly not an appropriate use of the system, my child,” he said with a whisper, releasing a slow breath.

Prila lowered her head and feigned a level of shame that she did not authentically feel. To begin with, her faith in Adamus’s system was shaken, and further exacerbating that was her rapidly growing, protective instinct towards Zach Calador. Nevertheless, the fact that she no longer believed in the vision of the system was not something she could let be known. Not while there was still some good that she could do from within.

“I’m sorry,” she said back to him, also speaking in a whisper. Then, at a more conversational level, she said, “I just find that Elvish woman to be so reprehensible, and I couldn’t bear to see Zach die: not this way.”

“I am well aware of why you did it,” he said, “but…but it is completely forbidden to interfere on this level. You know that kind of conduct is unacceptable.” He paused a moment and rubbed his eyes. “I realize this may come across as hypocritical given my own interference during Zachys Calador’s first traipse through the Catacombs of Yorna, but I did not interfere to the detriment of another party, as distasteful as it was. This…this is not acceptable. Not at all.”

Prila tensed. She knew that her plan could come to a grinding halt if Adamus relieved her of her duties. She doubted that he would have her killed or harmed. By now, she had come to fervently believe that such a thing was not in his nature. But if she were dismissed from her post and sent back to Galterra, it would make it that much more difficult to connect with Angelica. Additionally, there was so much more she still wished to learn from Adamus. He knew things that no human—or member of any race—knew. Details about the past: about Prila herself that fascinated her to no end.

Adamus had taught her things about the old human home world of Earth that were not documented anywhere on Galterra and, among living beings, existed only in his head. For example: Prila learned that, had she lived on Earth many thousands of years ago, she would have been born in a “country”—the word he’d used—called India, and she would have practiced a number of customs and enjoyed a variety of food that it was no longer within anyone’s knowledge to practice or cook. Her name, she had found out, was derived from the name “Priya” and meant “dear” and “beloved.”

Apparently, there were bits and pieces of trivia that the vampires on Archian Prime had of old Earth in their archives, but Adamus knew details and specifics to a far greater degree than anything the Vampires had access to. What’s more, he claimed that a full, detailed, and complete accounting of the entire history of humanity—as well as every other non-Elvish race—had been painstakingly documented and preserved for all eternity on a high-level planet that no being other than a Great One had ever stepped foot upon due to Galterrans failing to work together to progress to the point they could access it.

The more she learned, the more she desired to learn. And so, for a selfish reason as well as a noble one, Prila did not wish to find herself ejected from the OMP and cast away. At least not just yet. Thus, doing her best to put as much remorse, regret, and sincerity in her voice as she possibly could, she said, “I am truly sorry, Adamus. I made a terrible, emotional mistake.”

Adamus stared at her a moment, his gaze stern. She lowered her head even further. Though she did not fear for her safety, she nevertheless could not control the slight tremble in her shoulders at the idea of her newly derived plan coming to a swift, unceremonious end. But even if so, it would have been worth it provided Zach survived this ordeal.

For nearly ten, painfully long seconds, Adamus maintained his harsh, unblinking gaze. Then finally, with another sigh, he visibly relaxed and shook his head. “This is the first time you’ve ever done something like this such that I am aware, my child,” he whispered. “I will overlook it just this once. Do not interfere again.”

“I won’t,” she replied. “And I’m sorry.”

He held out his palm. “It is fine. Let us forget this has happened. But do keep from making this mistake again. We can have no more interference.”

“I understand.”

With that, Prila returned her attention to the screen at her terminal.

****

Lacking even the slightest clue as to what could have possibly provoked the Eeps in the first place, Zach was unsurprisingly just as clueless when, with an equal fervor, the horde that had saved all their lives began to suddenly and rapidly disperse. As though collectively changing their mind, the Eeps, which almost seemed to be acting with some kind of deliberate, protective intent—as impossible and ridiculous as that was—wasted no time at all in scattering and returning to their various different spawn points, leaving the seven of them once again vulnerable.

Actually, they were even more vulnerable than before now that the Elves had gained even more distance on them. Yet Zach did not despair, because at last, the end was in sight. “Rian,” he said, worried that his friend would collapse at any moment. “We really are almost there. The door is just behind those two big monsters.” He pointed. “I remember this really well.”

Rian was now panting too hard to even vocally reply. He was dripping so much sweat he left a trail of it behind him as he ran. Unable to speak, he made a weak, waving motion of his hand. Lienne, on the other hand, had enough within her to mutter a quick “Thank the Gods” under her breath while Olivir seemed to ready himself to deflect any further attacks that came from the Elves. They had paused momentarily as if realizing they were wasting their exertion. But with the screen of mobs now dissipating, it was only a matter of time before things ramped up.

We’re so, so close!

Up ahead, Zach spotted two of those strangely mismatched-looking beasts that he remembered fighting on his first trip through here. They were massive—standing tall enough that the top of their heads reached more than halfway to the ceiling—and they had a very rounded body shape that was covered from head to toe with fur. They also had horns on their heads, a beak instead of a mouth, but most oddly of all were those ears of theirs, which were more like a piece of string or a wire that ran all the way down the sides of their bodies and over the rock- and gravel-covered ground. Given their size, the two of them standing side by side were large enough to create an impassable wall.

HP

2500/2500

Name

Beast of Fillirana A

Level

15

HP

2500/2500

Name

Beast of Fillirana B

Level

15

Having absolutely no time for this whatsoever, Zach gestured for everyone to move to the right side of the tunnel and get behind him. Olivir and Grundor both nodded, as did Kolona and Lienne, but Rian merely just obeyed without saying a word or offering any kind of confirmation at all. He was not holding up well. But it would only be a few more moments.

Completely unarmed, with his sword having been broken, Zach lifted both his arms and extended them in front of his body with his fists pointing upwards like a makeshift shield. Then, running ahead of the others, he bolted forward, gritted his teeth, and told himself to ignore his eyes and trust instead in his stats.

Physically, the thing was many, many times his size. His life spent as a level-1 told him that anything that large and that heavy was something he should not be running headfirst into. But the rules of life had changed dramatically for him, and it was something he needed to now keep in mind. As things stood, with Kolona’s strength buff still active, he had a grand total of 48 points into strength. And that thing was only level 15. There was no need to run around it or try to lure it away. He needed to go straight through it.

The real danger is behind me, he told himself. There’s no need to be scared of that thing!

Even despite knowing beyond all doubt that, right now, he was a great deal stronger than the mob, he still held his breath and had to resist the temptation to close his eyes as he rammed into the monster at full speed. The result was an immediate appreciation for his current level of power as he not only succeeded in charging straight through the beast, but he torpedoed the gigantic creature in the opposite direction with such ease that it felt like ramming into nothing more daunting than a soft curtain. The mob was not only blasted away, but with a loud crack, it crashed into and then through part of the wall, causing rock and gravel to shower forward as it suffered 1,700 damage and nearly died outright.

“Mmmmbahhhhhh!” it roared as it struggled to free itself from the indentation in the wall that Zach had launched it through. “Mmmmbahhhhhh!”

“Ignore it!” Zach shouted. “That’s the door. Right there, Rian. Do you see it? Look!”

Rian lifted his head and Zach watched him peer in the direction he indicated, where a door that was simply labeled B6->B7 awaited at the end of the tunnel at long last. Seeing this, Rian’s eyes widened with relief, and as though inspired to be out of this place for good, he began to move just a little bit faster despite his exhaustion. Zach decided not to tell him that they’d have to descend seven flights of stairs. At least it was going down, not up.

As Zach shouted for his companions to hurry, Fluffles and Olivir continued to each call down lightning upon the advancing Elves. Though, whereas Fluffles summoned blueish electricity, the bolts that came from Olivir were pitch black. Now, however, they finally stopped, and both took off so that they stood by Zach’s side, leaving Kolona and Grundor to guard Rian and Lienne.

“Do not let the humans escape!” called a voice that Zach did not recognize. “Archers, fire!”

“Get in!” Zach screamed as what looked like hundreds of arrows began tearing through the air heading in their direction. He pulled open the door and began frantically waving his arms as though that would somehow make Rian and Lienne move faster. Panicked, he ended up leaning forward, grabbing Rian by his wrist, and literally yanking him inside, throwing him down the first flight of stairs with enough force that his body crashed into the end of the stairwell one flight down and left a dent. If he felt any pain at all, he did not show it. He merely scrambled back to his feet and started to descend the second flight as Lienne, Olivir, Grundor, Kolona, Fluffles, and Olivir dashed inside the stairwell, with Olivir slamming the door shut behind him. The exact moment in time that the door was closed, there came a series of plinks as arrow after arrow turned their end of the door into something more closely resembling a spiked shield.

“Go, go, go!” Zach cried. “We need to—”

Zach didn’t know what spell hit him—or rather, the door in front of him. He didn’t have a clue. All he knew was that something had hit the door, and that something caused a massive bang that saw the door slam into him at full force, sending him hurtling down the first flight the same way he had sent Rian. And yeah, it fucking hurt. “Guh!” he yelped with a gasp as his back hit a cracked portion of wall that Rian’s body had already broken.

Knowing he literally did not have the time to wait for the pain to abate, he did the same thing Rian had done: he rushed back up to his feet and prepared to hurry after the others. Only, this time, he threw the door with all of his might back where it belonged, and to both his surprise and satisfaction, it actually ended up crashing into the first Elf who had entered; a spellcaster, the Elf was immediately knocked backwards, presumably unconscious. Then dozens began to stream through.

Screaming at his body to move, Zach burst into another sprint and started heading down the next flight of stairs. In the corner of his eyes, there was a wide variety of multi-colored lights from what he assumed was an untold number of different magical spells as a deafening, ear-piercing series of explosions caused the entire stairwell to shake, each striking the bottom wall of the first flight of stairs where Zach’s body had physically been not even a half second ago.

Too close, too close!

Despite having been the first one to enter, Rian was again lagging behind. This much became obvious as Zach and all the others passed him as he rounded the second corner of the second flight of stairs. “Fuck it,” Zach growled, pausing just a moment to wrap his arms around Rian’s waist and fling him over his right shoulder. If Rian had any complaints, he was too exhausted to voice them. Now, Zach again took off at a full, mad dash, heading down a third flight and then a fourth. Each time he rounded a corner, his eardrums would ache with the sound of a parade of magical projectiles causing untold amounts of destruction. He could smell fire and smoke, and he could feel the rumbling from whatever powerful magic they used.

“No matter what happens, do not look back!” Zach shouted in warning.

“Believe me, we get it,” Olivir said. The usually calm vampire sounded just as terrified and rattled as Zach did.

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Lienne whimpered as she struggled to keep pace with the rest of them.

“Goddess, please protect us,” Kolona said, a desperation and terror in her voice.

“We’re…gonna die,” Rian said, panting.

“WEEEEEEEEEEE!” Fluffles shouted gleefully as he rode on Grundor’s head. “This the most fun Fluffles ever have! WEEEEEEEEE!”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Zach thought angrily.

“This is so awesome,” Grundor added with a laugh. “Now this is living!”

“Psychopaths,” Olivir said, now himself sounding out of breath. “The two of you are—”

His words were cut off as a violent explosion came from one flight above, and it was one that contained such terrifying force that it really did knock Zach—and all the others, right off their feet. He dropped Rian, fell onto his side, and began rolling down another flight of steps along with his friend. Then part of the ceiling collapsed, and if not for Zach shooting straight up to his feet, running forward, and punching a boulder-sized piece of metal out of the way, Lienne and Olivir could have been crushed to death.

Yanking them both up to their feet, he turned around to grab Rian, who held out his hand and shook his head. “I’m good now,” he said. “Just run!”

Once more, all seven of them rounded another corner and began running down another flight of steps. “There he is!” a voice called. Zach looked over his shoulder. One of the Elves, a young male who looked to be the same age as him, had somehow gotten ahead of all the others. His sword was held in front of him indecisively as though unsure of what he should do. Grundor made up the Elf’s mind for him.

With one staggeringly powerful punch, the Elf was blasted back up the entire flight of stairs he’d just stormed down, where he then collided with another fast-moving Elf, the two of them collapsing onto one another. Zach did not think either of them had died—hopefully.

“They’re gaining on us!” Zach shouted. “Guys, move your fucking asses! Hurry!”

Herding them all like they were sheep, Zach shouted at them to move faster or die. He wasn’t trying to be mean, but there was no time to coddle anyone—especially Rian, who was once again moving too damn slow, so Zach helped him along by throwing him down another flight of stairs. Of all things, he chuckled and gave Zach his thanks, and because Rian was infectious, Zach too began to chuckle. Then he chided himself, as this wasn’t the time for bullshitting.

“The door!” Rian said, scrambling back up to his feet. “There it is!”

“Shit, you’re right!” Zach darted forward towards it. It was a blue metal push-bar door labeled B7. “Can you see it, Olivir? Please, for the love of the Gods, tell me our theory was right.”

He nodded. “I can see it, dude.”

“Everyone, let’s go!” Zach called to them. “As soon as we get on the beach, we need to make a sandstorm to hide us. Then we can sneak away. There won’t be any help for a while. We have to survive for a bit on our own.”

“I understand,” Kolona said. “Let’s just hurry. Please!”

Zach nodded and then threw himself at the door. Come to think of it, that was what he’d done the last time he was here as well. He’d also been in an urgent need to run for dear life. Just once, he’d like to make his way through Yorna at a normal pace—assuming there was anything left of it after what the Elves had done.

Slamming himself into the push-bar door, Zach’s eyes were immediately assaulted by the bright noon daylight, and his entire body was reminded that this was one of the hottest summers on record. Within just the first second of being outdoors, he knew he was home. Holy fuck was it hot—intensely so. Spinning around, he watched as four humans, an Elvish girl, and a cat all ran out of a tiny portable bathroom that was designed to barely fit one person. “Shut the door!” he shouted after the last person, Rian, emerged.

Rian nodded and slammed it closed, and it stayed that way, too—for about one tenth of one second, whereupon it immediately detonated back open. And for the second time in a row, Zach was impacted head-on by a flying door that had to be traveling over one-hundred miles per hour. But this time, he exerted his strength. He had learned now that strength had to be consciously exerted in order to avoid being flung around like a child’s doll. And so, planting his feet into the sand, he extended both his palms and caught the door, before spinning around full circle and throwing it right back where it came from. The first Elf to step out, however, was not a spellcaster. She was a sword-wielding warrior who instantly sliced the push-bar door into two halves, each one flying off to its own side behind her. Then more Elves began to emerge.

“Now’s our chance!” Zach shouted. “We need to obscure their vision. Olivir, use your magic to—”

And then it happened. It fucking happened. Having completely forgotten to keep an eye on his timers, Zach’s Unleashed Phase fully ran out, and now his body demanded payment. And for the first time, Zach had to pay off a high debt all at once, something he had never before done without either dying or having a stone used on him. In truth, he wasn’t even sure he could handle it. He was fairly sure that he could, but this would now be the first time he’d have the chance to truly find out.

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Suddenly, Zach went from feeling somewhat winded but mostly energized to instead feeling like he was running on the world’s fastest treadmill at a speed his body couldn’t even begin to handle. “Fuck!” he croaked as he began to huff and pant even worse than Rian had. Sweat, both from the heat and from his debt of exertion, began to run down from his brow, over his cheeks, and drop off his face. Even as the eyes of his friends all filled with alarm, he fell down to his knees, struggling to remain conscious.

He needed air. He needed more air. He fell over and landed onto his back, having to close his eyes to filter out the blinding sun. Voices were calling to him. He felt as though he were drifting off to sleep, though he was not entirely alarmed, as this was not the feeling of death that he’d experienced once—almost twice—before. This was closer to the feeling of when he’d first used his Wave Slash. He’d likely be KO’d for just a couple of seconds. He’d likely wake up confused. He’d likely be captured or killed by the Elves. He’d likely remember about the World Eater and question why he was still continuing to do nothing about it.

World Eater? he thought. What’s the—

THE WORLD EATER! he screamed inside his head. How do I keep forgetting? Oh, shit! Why do I keep forgetting? I need to go to Dragon Squire. I can’t forget! No matter what, I cannot let myself forget about the—wait, what was I…? Did I nod off again?

For what was likely just a few seconds but could have been a few hours—it was impossible to tell when so disoriented—Zach realized he’d dozed off at the absolute worst possible time. Yet he couldn’t control it. He was so exhausted that even just breathing required a great deal of effort.

“Zach!” Rian, Lienne, Olivir, and Kolona all cried out at once, rushing over to him.

Rian knelt down beside him. “This time it’s my turn to carry you, I guess. We need to get you out of here.”

Zach forced himself back up into a sitting position, and it took so much effort just to do so that he worried he’d pass out again from that alone. “Just go without me. Hurry!”

“No way,” Rian said.

“You have to. Please, don’t argue. Take your sister and leave. Now!”

“We can’t leave you,” Lienne said.

“You wouldn’t leave us,” Rian added.

Zach shook his head in an attempt to clear it. “She’s going to be coming through any second. Olivir, Grundor, please take my friends and go.”

Kolona hurried over to him and knelt beside him opposite to where Rian was already kneeling. “Zach, we can’t leave you here. I won’t do it, and I know Olivir won’t, either. We can summon a skeleton mount for you to ride.”

“There’s no time! If you don’t start running right now, you’re all going to be—”

“No more running!” a cold, wicked voice yelled at them as a woman who looked like an older version of his girlfriend stepped calmly out onto the beach, her golden hair blowing in the wind at the same moment that a wave crashed onto the shore only a few-dozen feet to the side of her. She frowned. “None of you will be going anywhere.”

It was clear by that point that Zach was not going to die from his exertion debt, because not only wasn’t he collapsing, but he was slowly beginning to recover. This should have come as a relief to him. It didn’t, however, because it hardly mattered. He was about to die to something even worse. Fylwen began to glide closer to him as more and more of her Elvish warriors raced through the door-less portal and began to form a horizontal line behind her. Even still, it was not terror he felt as she drew nearer and nearer. It was raw, uncontrollable rage.

Even despite the fact that he was now so exhausted that his eyes were blurry, his body could barely move, and he was gasping for air, he somehow found the stamina to hate her just a little bit more. He glared at her with open defiance and a genuine loathing.

“I saved your people!” he yelled at her, his voice cracking so suddenly that it actually surprised him. He hadn’t even expected there to be so much emotion in his words as he addressed the awful queen. But there was. And several tears glided down his eyes as he continued to stare murderously at her. The fact that she herself grimaced as though pained only made him angrier. How dare she pretend that she was even capable of such feelings? She was a monster. She was an animal!

“You betrayed me, you evil bitch!”

The scowls from the Elves who accompanied her, not one of which Zach recognized from the battle with Olivir, told him that he was pushing his luck at using such a word against their queen. He didn’t care. He said it a second time. “You evil, good-for-nothing bitch!”

One of the Elves, an incredibly tall man well over six feet in height wielding a double-bladed spear, stepped forward angrily, but he paused when Flywen held out her palm to him. Soon after, he fell back in line as more and more of the Elves emerged. Zach had estimated she’d brought fifty of them with her, and now, over forty of them had already joined the horizontal line of them.

From a ruby-red-colored sheathe that Zach now noticed was concealed beneath the side of the elegant, queenly, green-and-white gown that she was wearing, Fylwen removed a shortsword that looked to Zach like a gladius. Its hilt and grip were made of pure gold, and the double-edged blade itself appeared a perfect silver that shined and reflected the light from the vengefully hot summer sun. Zach, having fully exerted himself, could only so much as back up slowly on his butt over the sand as she strode confidently towards him.

“I will make this quick,” she said. “I should have done this myself the first time around. I was a coward. I condemned you to death but lacked the courage of my convictions.”

“Like hell!” Rian yelled. He rushed forward at her—and made it only a single step. Immediately, one of the green-cloaked Elves pounced on him. She was another young warrior who Zach estimated to be around their age. She was a girl with fiery red hair, determined blue eyes, and in a fraction of a second, she had Rian’s face pressing down into the sand with her knee on his back. He turned his head to the side so that he could breathe, then began to shout and struggle. He quieted soon after as she pressed her kneecap into his back forcibly enough that it made Zach wince.

“Don’t struggle,” she whispered. “You’ll make this worse.”

As though in direct disobedience to her orders, Lienne made a direct lunge for Zach, and then she too was thrown onto the sand and pinned down. Then, as though unwilling to wait for Grundor, Olivir, and Kolona to make moves of their own, all three ended up subdued just the same. Fluffles was the only one who managed to slip away, and Zach watched his little body hopping along the sand as he came to his side. He hissed both at Fylwen and Chumpkenwiffles, who growled but remained where she was with the other Elves.

“Mean Elf lady leave Zach alone,” Fluffles said, unsheathing his claws.

“I can’t do that,” Fylwen said. “He’s a threat to me. You all are.”

Upon those words, she burst forward towards Zach. Now that he was his regular self, and now that his buffs had worn off as well, his speed was a mere 7 and his dexterity was 15. For this reason, Fylwen did not even appear as a blur as she moved. His eyes could no longer detect any motion from her at all. For all intents and purposes, she may as well have teleported for all that he could tell the difference. Now, he found her hovering over him with her gladius held at his throat and her own knee pressing down onto his stomach.

He grabbed her wrist and tried to hold it back, but she was infinitely stronger than him, and his attempts to hold her weapon at bay were no different comparatively than it would be if he was a literal toddler flailing around for all the good that it did. “Get the fuck off me!” he screamed at her. “Get off me!”

“I have to kill you,” she said. “And then I have to kill her.” Her eyes shifted towards where Kolona was being pinned down by one of her warriors. “I will do it by my own hand. I won’t stain any others. I’m sorry it has to be this way, young man, but the world is not a fair place.”

She lifted the shortsword. Now, Rian, Lienne, Olivir, Kolona, and even Grundor all began to fight, flail, and scream frantically, struggling for all they were worth to break free. “Let me go!” shouted Olivir. “Don’t you touch him, Queen Vayra! Don’t you dare!”

“Zach!” Rian and Lienne cried pleadingly.

Fluffles hissed and took a swipe at Fylwen, but she merely brushed him aside, backhanding him and causing him to be thrown off to the side not far from the ocean water, where he rolled several times along the sand and then struggled to get back up to his feet. The sight of her hitting his cat brought fury into his heart on a level he could barely contain. He screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to fight with every last ounce of his strength. But no amount of effort would make any difference at all.

Only then did he realize that the cooldown on his ring had likely ended mere seconds ago. Pointing it at her chest, he activated his blasting ability—and then he groaned in despair as she moved so fast to dodge it that it truly filled him with a sense of utter hopelessness. Almost before the beam had even popped into existence, Fylwen had already leaned her body to the side as she knelt on top of him; then, the much smaller, but still considerably sized beam blasted out of the ring and streaked uselessly towards the sky before disappearing.

Now, she again straddled his chest and again raised the shortsword. She turned it so that it pointed downwards, and she held it in both hands, lifting it even higher and arching her arms back as though intent on plunging the blade straight down directly into—and through—his heart. “May the Goddess accept your weary soul, young man.”

And with that, Zach watched in misery and horror as, for the second time, he realized he was about to die at the hands of Fylwen Vayra. He was totally, completely powerless to resist as the shortsword plummeted down to his chest. He squirmed, fought, and shouted out his defiance yet was totally unable to unseat her. He gritted his teeth, tensed his body, and strained every muscle, but there was no use. His friends called his name. Rian and Lienne began to humiliate themselves by begging—for his life. But he already knew how this went. Fylwen didn’t care about things like that. He’d begged her once before, and she’d killed him anyway. This time, he did the one and only thing he could do before his second—and likely final—death. He spat right in her face even as she brought the gladius down.

I hate her, he thought. He regretted it immediately, however, as he did not wish that to be the last thing to run through his head before he left this world.

Completely defenseless, there was nothing left that he could do. It was over. Fear drowned out all other sensations, and he could no longer clearly discern the screaming from his friends who were being forced to helplessly watch his execution. Their voices all blended together until Zach could no longer distinguish one from the other—or at least that was true at first. But then he heard something else. Something far louder and far more enraged. And in that moment, his eyes widened and awareness flooded back into him.

From a distance behind him came a roar of defiance, fear, and murderous rage. It was a scream so loud and so powerful that Zach felt it pierce his heart even before Fylwen’s gladius. “NO!” the voice screamed. “NO!”

Mere centimeters from plunging into his flesh, there was a startling, blinding spark that popped into existence just above his chest, along with the sound of a cling. Confused and unable to understand what was happening, Zach weakly lifted his head to see that there was dagger even closer to his heart than Fylwen’s gladius, which itself was only an inch or two away. The dagger was oriented horizontally and flat, and the gladius was pointed downward and pressing against it. The two blades struggled against one another, and it took Zach a second to realize what was happening, and when he did, he inhaled so sharply he began to cough.

Something had stopped the blade from puncturing his chest. And now he realized he was temporarily shaded from the sun as though someone was leaning over him. No, not someone. This wasn’t just “someone.” This, to him, was everyone—and everything. She’d come for him. She really had come.

“Get off him now!” Kalana screamed with such vast, boundless anger that it sent confused chills all over his body. He had never heard Kalana sound this way before. Never. It was to such an extent that he could not even believe it was her at all.

“Get! Off! Him! Now!” she screamed again.

Fylwen’s reaction was one of total shock, confusion, and oddly enough, joy. “Kalana?” she asked, her eyes becoming moist. “My baby. My Kalana! Gods be praised! It’s me, my Kalana. Your moth—”

Zach watched as Kalana, whose teeth were bared and whose face was twisted in horrific rage, drew back her arm and then crashed her fist into her mother’s face with such vengeful force that she was not only thrown off Zach, but she rolled backwards over the sand a half dozen times. This caused an uproar from all the other Elves, whose mouths had fallen open and who stared between the two of them in confusion as if only first realizing now who she was.

Zach wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was so disoriented, exhausted, and in disbelief. “Kalana,” he said as she lowered her beautiful green eyes down to look at him. “Kalana, I—”

Whatever he was trying to say was lost to an even greater amount of confusion as he suddenly realized he was moving fast—very, very, very fast. It was to such an extent that it took him a good few seconds to even realize what was happening to him. His right arm was extended, there was a sliding sensation beneath his back, and only now did he realize he was being dragged over the sand—by Kalana. She was dragging him backwards at a speed far faster than he himself was capable of moving.

Then he felt a terrified, trembling hand wrapping around him, and he felt her chin on the crook of his neck. “You’re still alive,” she said. Though he could not see her face from this angle, he could feel his neck becoming damp as she buried her face into him and cried. “My Zach. Thank the Gods you’re still alive. I’m so sorry for what she did. I’m gonna make her pay. Promise.”

She clearly did not realize her own strength, because she squeezed him so tightly that Zach feared she might cut off His circulation. Even still, he closed his eyes and merely placed his hand over her own. Then he tried to stand up—and realized he couldn’t. Kalana would literally not let him go. “Kal, I need to help the others.”

“Nah-uh!” she said. “You stay here.”

Zach opened his mouth to reply, but shut it and instead let out a frightened croak as he saw Fylwen rising from where she’d been knocked flat, her mouth dripping blood, as well as her nose. “Kalana, how could you?” she asked with genuine hurt. She began to approach.

Kalana was now directly behind Zach. With her left hand, she was holding him against her chest, and with her right, she extended her arm fully, her hand gripping one of her daggers, which she held above herself threateningly at her mother. Though Zach could not see her eyes from this position, he didn’t have to in order to imagine the fury that must be within them.

“Don’t come any closer!” she shouted. “One step…one step and I’ll kill you!”

“Kalana, it’s me,” Fylwen said, and there was true pain and desperation in her voice. “Don’t you remember me? I’m your—”

“I know who you are!” Kalana snapped. “And I’ll never forgive you!”

“And neither will I,” said another voice. Turning his head to the right, Zach saw an Elf he quickly recognized as being Eldora Vayra. Like Kalana had done with Zach, he had dragged Kolona away from the other Elves, and now he stood protectively in front of her. Across from him, the Elf who had been subduing Kolona was now flat on his back and hardly moving. Thankfully, Zach could tell from the rise and fall of his chest that he was still breathing.

He’s changed a lot, Zach thought.

Eldora did not look the way he had when Zach had last seen him. He was now far more regal in appearance, wearing a magnificent suit of golden plate armor along with a red-and-white cape that billowed as another breeze caused sand and debris to roll along the beach. With a dark, malicious look at Fylwen, he shook his head then raised his voice. “How dare you hurt my niece!” he howled at her. “My brother’s only child. All that remains of him in this world. You horrific woman! You vile, repugnant monster! You are no wife of mine, and I am no husband of yours!”

Fylwen scowled, then turned her head to Kalana. “What has your father told you about me? What did he say to make you hate me?”

“Nothing!” Kalana shouted in reply. “I hate you ‘cause of what you did to Zach!”

She actually flinched. “Your human consort? That’s what you’re so upset about?”

Zach again tried to go help his friends, but Kalana was not letting go of him. He was both annoyed and touched at the same time. But he didn’t need to be babied. Also, he was now so angry and disoriented that he could no longer make rational decisions. “Let me go, Kalana,” he demanded. “I’m going to go Phase 3 on this fucking bitch!” He again spat in her direction. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”

“Zach, language,” said another voice from behind him, one that he recognized immediately. In a matter of seconds, an entire army of adventurers, many of which he recognized, seemed to appear out of nowhere. Judging from the sandstorm left behind in their wake, it wasn’t a stretch to assume they’d run across the beach like he had the first time he’d come here.

“Mr. Oren?” Zach asked, becoming so confused it actually hurt. “What’re you doing—”

“Queen Fylwen Vayra!” yelled an indignant, enraged-sounding voice from above, which was accompanied by a flapping sound of wings. Before Zach’s very eyes, a Pegasus with flaming hooves landed onto the sand, along with nine mobs wearing shiny armor and face-concealing helms. They also had the wings of an angel, and each one was…Zach blinked. Then he blinked again. Each one was somehow around level 150.

What in the fuck?

Sliding off his mount, Peter Brayspark, leader of the Guild of Gentlemen drew his blade and pointed it in her direction. “Those three humans: you will release them now!” Zach watched as Peter actually shook—his whole body shook with what to Zach looked like moral outrage. He was so angry that his lips even quivered.

“You…you would dare…you would dare threaten humanity on my territory? Release those three humans this instant, or on my honor, I shall not spare a one of you. Lest you try your luck, I shall consider so much as a single harmed hair to be the same as a declaration of war!”

Fylwen glared at him, yet there was something more than mere contempt in the way she regarded him: something Zach could not pinpoint. It was similar to sadness, but not quite.

“You’ve really grown, Peter,” she said, her tone lacking in its usual ferocity. “You’re no longer the little boy who used to play with me in the park.”

“And you’re no longer the girl who liked picking flowers and drawing in her coloring books. Now, unhand these humans at once. Human affairs are of no concern to you.”

“And Elvish affairs are of no concern to you, Peter!” she snapped.

Peter tilted his head as though confused. “Have I ever claimed otherwise? Why would you even waste your breath to mention such a banal triviality?”

“Because of her,” Fylwen said, pointing to Kolona, who was now partially hidden behind Eldora. “Even if I could be persuaded to release the vampire, who has killed many of my kind, and even if I could somehow overlook the existence of this…” She ran her eyes up and down over Zach, who was still trapped in Kalana’s arms. “This freak,” she finished, regarding Zach with an overt look of disgust and revulsion. Her words angered Kalana so fiercely that she tightened her grip on Zach, causing her to ease up a moment later after he coughed and tapped on her arm. He was lucky she even noticed him at all with the way her head was pointed straight at her mother. Zach was actually glad he could not see the look in her eyes all that well, as he wasn’t sure he wanted to ever see her with the level of hate he knew she must be feeling.

“Even if I could overlook the existence of those two, Peter, I cannot overlook Kolona Vayra.”

At this, Peter gave off a look of stunned confusion. He turned his head to the left, then craned his neck to the right, and in an instant, his voice changed from threatening and serious to baffled and frustrated. “Wait, so what’s the problem here, exactly?” he asked.

“You tell me.”

Peter shrugged. “I see no problem at all. That which you choose to do with your own Elvish subjects is of no concern to me. I care only for those three humans. Give them to me, and you can return to Archian Prime with any Elf you want.” He sheathed his blade. “I see no reason for bloodshed.”

Finally, Kalana released her grip on Zach, and then rushed over to her cousin, whom she pulled into the same kind of “protective hug” as though afraid of letting go, and once more, she pointed her dagger at her mother. “Nah-uh! You better not come anywhere near Kolona, either.”

“Honey, there is so much you don’t understand,” Fylwen said. “Lower your weapon and we can talk about—”

“Stay back!” she again warned her mother, who had inched a step forward.

“Kal,” Kolona said, her eyes damp. “You really aren’t my enemy. Zach was right.”

“’Course I’m not,” she said, hugging her cousin tightly. “You never have to worry about my mom ever again. I promise. Whatever she did to you, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anything about it, honest.”

“I believe you,” Kolona whispered. Then she gazed fearfully at Fylwen. “But she’ll never stop coming for me. She’s already killed me once, Kal. I…I don’t think I’ll be able to walk away from this alive.”

“You will,” Eldora growled. Though he spoke only those two words, there was a passion and intensity in his voice that conveyed so much more, as well as an unspoken threat that lingered in the air for several moments thereafter, during which Fylwen did not speak and merely chewed on her lower lip as though uncertain.

The fifty or so Elves who had come here with Queen Vayra appeared so taken aback by the mere presence of Eldora and Kalana that they looked as though they had suffered some kind of catastrophic brain malfunction. Robotically, they shifted their eyes between all three of them as though unclear about what they were supposed to be doing and who they were supposed to be obeying.

But as messy and confusing as things were in this very moment, they were about to become even more so. A buzzing came from the sky, and Zach glanced upwards to see a helicopter beginning to land only a few-dozen feet from where they were all gathered. Donovan and the other adventurers scowled. Even with Zach recovering from exertion debt and partially dazed, he nevertheless still had some degree of appreciation in a detached sort of way for the gravity of what was taking place around him. Little by little, he was coming to grips with the fact that there was no way everything happening this very moment did not make its way into the history books. Yet even despite this, it was what Olivir was about to say to him in just a few moments from now that not only snapped Zach out of his stupor and brought an immediate end to his exhaustion, but also gave him the urge to flee.

First, though, Zach watched as his friends were at last released. Having become so stunned by the appearance of Kalana and Eldora, the Elves, either intentionally or simply due to shock, had somehow released their grips on Lienne, Rian, Olivir, and Grundor, who also managed to tear themselves free of their captors with what was surely minimal effort. Of these four, three of them came running over to Zach. Only Rian remained where he was, and the reason for this soon became abundantly clear. Right now, his friend had a massive grin plastered on his face while a very cute Elvish girl with red hair sat on top of his chest, pinning him down.

“Don’t you worry,” he said to her, “I won’t try to escape. I’m your prisoner fair and square.”

“Huh?” she asked. Then she immediately blushed. “Wait, what?” she said in a high-pitched shout, getting off him. “Yuck! Dirty human! Next time, I’ll stomp you into the ground.”

Rian got up and wiped sand off his clothing then shook some of it out of his hair. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

She scrunched up her lips as she looked at him. “Now’s your chance to run! I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing right now, so you should just go before I change my mind.”

“I hope you do change it,” he said to her.

Is he seriously flirting with the Elf? Zach thought. He was utterly floored to see that, the more Rian spoke with her, the more she spoke back. The two now seemed to be bantering back and forth. What in the name of the Gods was Rian doing? Did he not realize he was hitting on a Gods-cursed Elf? Not a second after wondering this, Zach released a very quiet chuckle at his own lack of self-awareness.

I’m not one to talk, am I?

With that, he briefly embraced Lienne, Olivir, and even Grundor as the three arrived by his side; this, while Fylwen’s Elves continued to stare indecisively at one another as though uncertain over the entire affair. Many were whispering a name to one another: King Eldora. Whereas others mentioned a different name: Princess Kalana.

Still in a seated position, Olivir bent over and held out his hand to Zach, and he took it. Despite only having one point into constitution, Olivir must have had at least a few in strength, because he was surprisingly strong as he yanked Zach back up to his feet. Then, turning around as if to regard the adventurers who had now mostly coalesced around Zach, he asked, “Who’s the raid leader here?”

“I am,” Donovan said. He barked a laugh. “You must be that Count Olivir Soloux I’ve been hearing about.”

His lips forming an o-shape, Olivir asked, “You know me?”

Donovan shook his head. “Nah, but my best bud does.” He nodded his chin to the cloaked man next to him, and Olivir, as though only noticing him for the first time, raised his eyebrows and his expression lit up.

“Zeph?” he asked, hurrying forward and briefly embracing the adventurer. “Wow, I never thought we’d cross paths again.”

“Neither did I,” Zephyr said with a laugh. “Oli, you’re an awful long way from Archian Prime.”

Olivir rubbed his head and laughed. “A fifteen-minute run depending on how you look at it.”

Zephyr grinned. “That’s about right.”

More seriously, he asked, “How long until Ziragoth shows up?”

This time, it was Mr. Oren who spoke. “You have valuable intel for us, correct?”

“First, please answer: how long. Also, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Olivir.” He extended his hand.

Adjusting his lab coat and his cat-eye glasses, Mr. Oren briefly introduced himself, shook the vampire’s hand, then said, “It should be here in about an hour and a half.”

And now, finally, Olivir turned to Zach, and it was at this point that Zach truly, fully came back to his senses and recovered from his E-debt. And when he did, he really wished he hadn’t. “Okay, not a lot of time then. Zach, remember when I told you I had a monthly ability? Now’s the time to use it. Time for us to go.”

“Go? Go where?” Zach asked nervously as the first pinch of fear entered into his belly.

Olivir pursed his lips then made a humorous yet compassionate chuckle. “To Ziragoth. We need to go pay him a visit.”

“You’re fucking with me,” Zach croaked.

“Nope. Your friends are going to need some time to prepare once they pore over the Ziragoth file, and it looks like things here with the Elves are gonna take time to work themselves out, too, so I need to, uhm, put the thing to sleep for a day using my monthly ability. It’s a T5 sleep and it’ll buy us enough time to—”

“Wait, time out,” Zach interrupted, a heat entering into his voice. “You never told me anything about me having to go after Ziragoth. I never want to see that thing again. Why do you need me there?”

“Because I need you to distract it for me while I ready the spell. Don’t worry. It will be fine.”

“You have to be out of your mind!”

“Don’t worry," he said again. "This time, it’ll be fine.”

“It will not be fine,” Zach insisted, beginning to feel his heart pound faster and faster in his chest as even the thought of seeing that fucking dragon again made him want to dig a hole and hide in it. Suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe, and his hands started to shake. “The last time I went near that thing, I lost an arm and an eye.”

“True,” Olivir said, nodding. Then he winked. “But the last time you encountered Ziragoth, you didn’t have me with you. Time to face your fears, dude. You have to do this or you’ll never move on.”

Zach gave an absolute, firm shake of his head. “Fuck that. I can’t do it. I’m not…I’m not…I’m too afraid,” he finished in a whisper.

At this, Mr. Oren immediately snapped his head in Zach’s direction. “Then you have to go,” he said. “If that’s the case, this is just like with Varsh. Do you remember what I told you back then?”

Zach nodded. “Of course I do. I’d never forget it.”

“What did I say?”

Zach drew a breath. “That what makes you a man is whether or not you follow through on your actions: not whether or not you escape with your underwear clean. But I…”

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Oren said to him with an oddly comforting smile. “I don’t know what the vampire plans for you to do, but you won’t be the one doing it.”

“Huh?” both Zach and Olivir said at the exact same time.

Just then, someone slapped his back hard enough to make him flinch, and to his surprise, he saw Donovan beaming down at him. “Not sure what’s going on, but it looks like we’ve got some work to do, huh, kiddo?”

This was too much. It was just too damn much. Right now, with world leaders, adventurers, Elves, vampires, and his girlfriend all staring hesitantly at one another as a knot in desperate need of being untied threatened to suffocate all of them, Olivir expected Zach to simply walk away from this mess and engage that fucking beast again? Was he out of his mind?

Even as he tried to make sense of what he was being told, he flinched a second time as an even more powerful hand slapped down on his opposite shoulder. He turned to see Spider standing to his left. He was the guy who’d totally whooped his ass at Angelica’s and had taught him a valuable lesson in the process. As Zach recalled, he was also second in command of the entire God-Slayer’s Guild.

“We’re comin’ with you too,” he said.

Zach held up his pointer finger. “Okay, but what about this whole situation with the Elves? And Kalana, and Eldora, and Peter, and—”

“Political guild bullshit,” Donovan said, spitting out a wad of saliva onto the sand. “Didn’t Alex ever tell you not to worry about that?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“What if they all start fighting each other?”

“They won’t.”

“How can you know that?”

Donovan twisted his lips sourly. “Because that prick is here.”

“Prick?”

Donovan flicked his chin in the direction of a man exiting the helicopter in an absurdly fancy-looking, satin tuxedo. He had to be the most well-dressed figure Zach had ever seen, with a golden bracelet on his right hand, a fancy watch on his left, and a black suit with white-and-gold cufflinks that accentuated his look of importance and wealth. Zach only vaguely recognized his face from the news. He had never been much into guild politics, and so while the man's name and face were somewhat familiar, Zach knew little about him or what he did.

“What he means,” Mr. Oren said, “is that with Kalana, Eldora, and the political guilds here, violence is very unlikely to break out.”

“How can you say that? They’re all threatening each other, and Kalana and her dad want to kill her mom, and her mom wants to kill her cousin, and then there’s all those Elves.”

“Zach, my man, I get it,” Mr. Oren said. “But as soon as Abram Gespon introduces himself to the queen, this entire nightmare is going to transition from a violent one into a diplomatic one.”

“Yeah, they’re probably going to be talking for some time,” Donovan said, tapping his chin. Then he gave Zach another pat on the back, and holy fuck, it hurt like hell. Was this supposed to be a sign of affection or some kind of punishment?

“Donovan is right,” Mr. Oren said, now joined by Kesten, Alixa, and Maric. Fluffles, too, had rejoined his side, though the cat kept his eyes pinned firmly on Chumpkenwiffles, who Zach now realized was staring back at Fluffles. “I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but I have a responsibility to focus on killing the dragon. Ah, you said your name is Olivir, correct?”

Olivir nodded. “That’s right. Count Olivir Soloux.”

“You can really put the dragon to sleep?”

“For one day, yep. It’s a monthly ability I have. It’s basically a T5 sleep.”

“And it even works on superbosses?” Mr. Oren asked with a gasp.

“It works on any mob or boss,” Olivir said. “Also, just so you know, Ziragoth isn’t even a superboss: he’s a God Boss.”

“A fuckin’ what?” Donovan asked with a shocked grunt that also sounded a bit on the angry side.

Olivir laughed. “Right, you Galterrans don’t even know what that is anymore, do you?”

“Do we want to?” Kesten asked. He was still wearing his typical leather jacket, and Zach had no idea how he continued to wear that thing in this intense summer heat.

“Probably not, but I’ll tell you anyway. A God boss is one step above a superboss. Even though the dragon is a superboss right now, it’ll become something even worse once you lower its health to half.”

“You’re kidding,” Maric said, a wrinkle appearing on his brow.

“Nope. It’s why I told Zach we should just abandon this planet and go somewhere else—no offense.”

Mr. Oren visibly tensed. “I thought a superboss is the highest tier of boss. I’m not liking where this sounds like it’s going. I’ve never heard of this before.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. I can give you the full details on Ziragoth after I put him to sleep. But for now, I guess you should just know that if he does succeed in wiping out this continent, he’ll move on to another continent and continue on. A God boss doesn’t de-spawn until it’s killed all sentient life on a planet.”

“What?” shouted Kesten, Maric, Alixa, Donovan, Mr. Oren, and even Abram Gespon, who had just been about to introduce himself to Queen Vayra when he’d paused upon hearing this.

“Yep, sucks, right? That’s what they do, though. If you guys don’t kill it, it’ll kill everyone on the planet, and you can’t really hide from it either. It’ll just roam towards you wherever you are. I guess you could fly around it and spend a few weeks in one hemisphere, then a few weeks in the other and let it cycle back and forth. But most people will just die.”

“Is this true?” Abram Gespon asked, fixing Olivir with a hard, cold look.

“Yeah. I swear it is.”

“Perfect!” the man said with a greedy smile for a reason that Zach could not even begin to discern. The puzzled looks on the faces of those around him also mirrored his own. He rubbed his hands together. “So many opportunities,” he said. “Thank you for that information.”

“Uh, okay.”

No one spoke a word as Abram continued on his way with an entourage of staff by his side. He made his way straight for the queen. Then, reminding himself that the political guild nonsense was not his concern, he asked, “Why do you need me to go with you, Olivir? It looks like you’ve got the entire GSG to escort you. If you truly needed me, you know I’d come with you. But if…if there’s no reason for it, then why?”

“There’s a reason,” he said. “You know why.”

“I don’t.”

“You do,” Olivir insisted. "But I don’t want to talk about that in public. Just trust me when I say you need this, dude.”

“Like hell I do,” Zach grumbled.

Of all people, Donovan seemed to understand whatever it was Olivir was implying, as evident from the way he grunted in approval then asked, “Kid’s got the jitters bad, huh?”

“Really bad,” Olivir said, nodding.

Donovan made another grunt. “Can’t blame him. Dragon fucked him up pretty bad.”

The two, despite having never met one another before, exchanged a knowing look and then said no more. This, as more and more high-ranking members of political guilds showed up onto the scene and Abram Gespon at last made his introductions to the queen. Kalana, who had been arguing loudly with her mother, paused abruptly and then scuttled back over to Zach, once again grabbing his arm.

“No way he’s going,” she said.

“Okay, now I have to go,” Zach replied, becoming embarrassed. It meant so much to him that Kalana loved him, but she was now becoming too protective to the point of humiliation.

“Nah-uh. No way. You’re staying.”

“Let him go,” Eldora said, to which Kalana glared at her father.

“But, dad, the dragon—”

“You’re humiliating him, Kalana. Let him go.”

“Then I’m going too.”

“So am I,” Kolona said.

Fylwen stared at the girl in outrage. “You’re not going anywhere!”

Another round of bickering ensued. This was a mess. A total fucking mess. How would they even begin to untie this knot? For the time being, he was just glad that none of his friends had died. But he was not glad that Olivir, who Zach thought understood him, wanted him to see that dragon again. He already saw it plenty: in every one of his nightmares. Why should he have to see it in the flesh as well?

So much had happened, and there was so much to figure out. What had Zach gotten himself into?