"Enough!"

A voice boomed through the chamber, halting everyone in their steps. A physical pressure pushed down against them, shoving Wyrmkin to their knees, and even Beef felt it weigh on his shoulders. The rebels gasped, most falling backwards, and Beef turned around.

At the far end of the chamber, past the now-dead Witness Flower, a pair of statues extended from the ceiling. Once obscured by the Flower, the statues were expertly carved, each depicting the coiled length of a Dragon, complete with spiked tail, claws, and batlike wings that wrapped around themselves. They were sloppily painted, one a deep purple and the other a shimmery green-gold. Its mouth was open as if frozen in a roar, and flowering vines wrapped around its jaws like a bridle.

"Cease your bickering." The voice emanated from the statue on the left—the purple one. "They are not Adamants."

"But the Flower—"

“Witness Flowers are sensitive to pressures of the Spirit. If they were strong enough to face down the Adamants, then there is no question that the Flower would wilt away."

Clenching his jaw, the Elf put up their weapon, and their fellow Wyrmkin did as well. The pressure against them all relented.

"Right. Told you," Beef said, arms akimbo. "We're on your side."

Archie was a lot less cool about things. "What's the deal here? I thought we were going to meet the Wyrms, not take up gardening."

"So eager," a new voice said, emanating from the green-gold statue. It was as deep as the other, but had a different timbre, like an element of brass rattling at the back of its throat. "We have questions we need answered before you can access the inner sanctum."

"Inner sanctum," Archie muttered. Louder, he said, "All right, what’re your questions?"

"Who are you?" asked the purple statue.

"My name's Beef, and this is Archie."

The green-gold scoffed. "Beef isn't a real name."

"Yeah, it is.”

“Wait, you're a Minotaur."

Beef struck a pose. "Yep."

"So, the name’s a joke?"

"No, it's a serious name. A seriously cool name."

The green-gold sighed. "At least Archie is a normal name for a Gnome."

"I'm not a Gnome.”

Beef winced. Archie didn’t like being called a Gnome.

"Then what are you?"

"What is this, twenty questions? Let's hurry this along."

"Fine," the purple said. "Where do you come from?"

"I'm from Tex... Nagast. Elderthrone, specifically," Beef said. "We both are."

"What’s your Tier?"

"What's yours?" Archie snapped back.

Beef nodded. "Yeah, that's a pretty rude way to ask. You already had us kill a flower over this."

"We ask because this resistance is important," the purple said, "and we have had moles in the past try to worm their way into our ranks. The Witness Flower and our questions have always weeded them out."

"But you're right," said the green-gold. "The Witness Flower only fully dies if you are at Master Tier or above, so that means you're very strong or you have Divine help. For your sake, I hope it's the first one.”

“No Divine bullshit here unless..." Beef turned to Archie. "Do you think the Pathless' gunk stuck to us? Because we're not Master Tier."

"Stop. Talking.”

“Not Master Tier, huh? Interesting."

Beef could feel the heat of Archie's glare. Whoops.

"Pathless.” The purple statue stretched out the word as if they were tasting it. "The god of light and the sun. Order, too, I hear. I also heard he's dead. Why would you have a dead god's gunk on you?"

"Because we fought him? And his army?"

"You fought the Hierocracy?"

"Um, yeah. Like a bunch of times."

"I've only fought them like twice," Archie said. "But yeah, we faced ‘em. You heard the god was dead?" He pointed a thumb at himself. "We were there when it happened."

"Whoa. And you helped kill him?”

Archie shrugged. "Something like that."

The green-gold statue hummed to itself. "We believe you are here on good faith. If you’re gonna join the resistance..."

"No one said anything about joining," Archie said. "We're just here to talk."

"If you wish to progress further than you are now, you must join," said the purple. "Secrecy is one of our few armors against the Overlord and his Adamants. In order to preserve it, we require a blood Oath."

"No way," Beef said. "We don't trust Oaths. The goddess in charge of them is shady as hell.”

Archie snorted. "What he said."

There was a moment of silence, and Beef could swear he heard a frantic sort of rustling through the Dragon statues.

"If you cannot swear an Oath, then you will be sent away—" the purple said.

Archie groaned. "We walked out here for nothing—”

“In pieces."

Before Beef processed those words, the rebels ran out of the room, and doors he’d never seen slammed shut. They clicked, stone and metal grinding together.

“Uh, I think they just locked us in.”

At the far end of the chamber, through slots in the wall near the statues, blades came whirling out, three sets large enough that they covered the entire room in their spinning arcs, and they began to press forward slowly.

"Oh crap," Beef said, stepping back, only to see a pale yellow gas pour through hidden vents in the ceiling. It dropped like a thick fog, hitting the blades and churning outward toward them.

"What the shit," Archie squinted at the fog. "That's poison gas."

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Glugs of thick liquid caught Beef's attention. He glanced down to see vents in the side of the room start pouring out thick, viscous, green liquids.

"And acid," Archie's voice ratcheted an octave higher. "What the hell is this place?"

“I’m pretty sure they’re trying to kill us.” Beef stepped back, up onto the rafter beam behind them. He wasn’t afraid, not really. More than anything, he was annoyed. "Hey, Arch?"

"Yeah?”

“I'm real sick of this."

"Me too. Wanna see who these Wyrms really are?"

Beef grinned. "Oh yeah." On his shoulder, Fafnir snorted out a plume of flame. She apparently agreed. "Let's do it."

Archie dropped to the floor and vanished.

"Where did the Gnome go?" The purple statue bellowed.

"You're focused on the wrong thing.” Beef set himself against the blades as they whirled closer, just outside the reach of the now-swirling poison gas. "And I lied about my name."

"What?"

"The name's Beefhammer. Entropic Paradigm! Deathblow Conduit!"

With one motion, Beef shaped hammers out of thick, rugged chitin and hurled them forward. They blazed with necromantic Mana before crashing into the two highest blades, their weight and his Strength bending them back until they burst against the walls, striking sparks against the stone.

Deathblow Conduit is level 81!

Entropic Paradigm is level 80!

“What the shit—he broke the blades!”

“I saw!”

With a second breath, Beef formed a bridge over the final blade that spun at ankle height, before hauling in a large lungful of clean air before the poison gas engulfed him. It stung at his eyes, but he lowered his head and sounded a Skill in his chest.

"Those were mithril blades! They were so expensive!"

Beef leaned forward, lowering his orichalcum covered horns at the far wall.

“Hey! Beef. Listen, don’t do that! Just stay there and die, please?”

“I'll ignite the air in your lungs, you big, crazy... Stop!"

Ruinous Rampage!

Beef charged forward, his Body igniting like a falling comet as he blurred beyond his own ability to perceive. One moment he stood still, and the next he was smashing through the far wall, tearing through stone and metal like it was paper.

Ruinous Rampage is level 78!

When his Perception caught up with himself, Beef realized he’d broken into another chamber entirely. It was filled with moving gears and pipes that hung from the ceiling in tangled knots, illuminated by permanent magelights. The pipes led from two sets of vats along the side wall, the first marked with a hastily painted skull and crossbones and the other with a puddle of bubbling green. A pair of tubes, one painted purple and the other a green-gold, connected to the corners of the room, right where the Dragon statues were located on the other side.

Whoa, this place is crazy. Beef traced the tubes back and saw two fuzzy creatures standing at the other end of the room, yanking frantically on levers and shouting into large cones.

“Kobolds!” he shouted happily.

"Uh! Ignore the handsome guys behind the podium!"

Beef snorted. "Really? Is that supposed to work?"

Instead of answering, the green-gold Kobold zipped forward faster than Beef expected, swinging a sickle that gleamed wickedly in the magelights from above. Beef jerked backwards, but not before the blade scored a line in his chitinous armor.

The Kobold was fast and agile. He came again, spinning, and this time let go of the sickle mid-swing. It shot forward, attached to a chain as it swung into a razor-sharp arc.

Beef quickly hardened his armor around him, thickening it as the sickle caught him across the pauldron and dug deep. "Entropic paradigm!" Chitin crawled over the sickle, holding it fast, and Beef grabbed the chain in a meaty fist and laughed. "Gotcha now!"

The Kobold only smiled, his strange, lizard-dog features as vicious as they were gleeful.

The chain and sickle vanished, reappearing back in his hands.

"No, no you don't,” he said, and swung again.

Beef started forward but was thrown back by arrows that ricocheted off his chitin-clad arms. Beef whipped his head and saw the purple-black Kobold firing a bow from behind the row of metal vats. The arrows weren't strong enough to penetrate him, and most shattered on impact…but when the fourth and fifth shot landed on his shoulder, Beef could feel his armor starting to break.

Their weapons are strong!

The green-gold attacked from one side and the purple-black struck from the other, forcing Beef to split his attention. He thickened his armor, attempting to trap the melee fighter in a grapple while simultaneously fending off arrows that began to glow with Skills. The two Kobolds were fast—a lot faster than Beef, and their Strength wasn’t far behind.

An arrow smashed into the back of his knee, and he stumbled forward, just in time to catch a sickle to his face. Almost, anyway; he ducked his head, letting the blade crash against his orichalcum headgear. It skittered off harmlessly.

This…this is harder than I expected. Where the heck is Archie?

The green-gold Kobold gestured and thorns sprouted from the earth, stabbing into Beef and forcing him back to his feet.

“Nice Skill,” he grunted.

“You, too,” green-gold said, nodding at the large warhammer in his hands.

Beef hadn’t even realized he’d conjured the weapon. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Crushwave Surge!”

He slammed his hammer into the ground, and a tidal wave of earth Mana burst from him in all directions. The ground rippled and tossed the green-gold Kobold back before it exploded beneath him, showering him with rock and root.

An arrow slammed into his back, and this time, it pierced Beef’s armor straight through.

“Gah!” He hunched forward. It hurt so much, and a burning sensation spread like wildfire across his entire side.

Status Condition: Vulnerability (Poison)!

Vulnerability (Poison) - Your resistance to poison type Mana has been greatly reduced, increasing the effect of all poisons that enter your Body.

Duration: 2 Minutes

Status Condition: Poisoned!

Poisoned - You are afflicted with Whiteflesh Poison, distilled from Whiteflesh Mushrooms. Your Dexterity and Endurance is reduced by 10%.

Duration: 5 Minutes

Poison! That’s cheating! He stood up, hurling his hammer at the vats. The weapon smashed through the containers, rupturing them and spilling thick green acid onto the far wall, forcing the purple Kobold out of hiding.

Fafnir screeched and launched herself across the room. Right for the archer.

The Kobold screamed, firing an arrow that split into dozens of shards, but Fafnir sprayed her necrotic breath, and they rotted away mid-flight. Seconds later, she was on him.

She chomped onto his leg.

"It's biting me! Kevin, oh my god, it’s biting me!”

“Good girl, Fafnir," Beef said, tanking another blow from the green-gold Kobold. The guy was looking battered, but he wouldn’t stand still. He flipped and jumped, kicking off Beef's body and the walls and ceiling like everything was a trampoline. Beef swung his fists, but the poison dragged at him, and he missed.

This is stupid! Beef flared Entropic Paradigm, and a cage of spikes crowded up around the green gold Kobold, catching him from the ceiling in a net of chitin. “Enough!”

"Yeah," Archie said through a heavy breath, "I agree."

Beef blinked. Archie had his two molten daggers at green-gold's throat. "Took you long enough."

"This place had higher-Tier materials than I expected."

A growling caught Beef's ears, and he looked back to see Fafnir had the other Kobold on his back, teeth clamped around his neck and breathing heavily. Both of the Kobold’s eyes were so wide, Beef could see the white around their massive, slitted pupils.

Archie snorted. "Let's stop with all the theatrics, yeah?"

Green-gold bared his teeth, and his fingers twitched as if trying to move his arm enough to summon his sickle, but he couldn't. "You can't stop us; we're stronger than you."

"No, you're not," Beef said with a snort. "I don't even have my armor and weapons on me, and you didn’t even hurt me." Blood dripped onto the floor from a wound across his shoulder and forearm. "Okay, you hurt me a little.”

Green-gold swallowed, but his face returned to a sneer in seconds. “You think you can move that knife faster than I can activate our Skills?"

The other one shifted, but Fafnir bit down harder, and he gave a little yelp. "Do your worst! Can—can you kill us before we kill you?"

Archie smiled wide. "I'm not gonna kill you." He sheathed his daggers, and both Kobolds looked at him in confusion.

"Fafnir, heel," Beef commanded, and for once, the little terror listened. She released purple-black, and he scooted away, rubbing at his bloody neck.

Archie spread his empty hands. "We're here to save you, Unbound."

The twins looked at each other. Green-gold swallowed. "How’d you know?"

"Quiet, idiot."

Archie laughed and looked at Beef. "Was this how Felix felt when he found us? It’s kinda fun. How’d I know? You wanna tell him?"

Beef stood up as straight as his poisoning allowed him, dismissing his hammer. "I'm really from Texas."

"Philly," Archie said.

The Kobolds looked at one another, their mouths open wide, and green-gold swallowed.

"Seattle.” The purple Kobold sat against the far wall, staring between the two of them. "You're Unbound, too?"

Beef reached out a hand. "And we're here to help."