Hyzen paced in his office. He pitter-pattered to and fro’ as his nails occasionally dug into his cuticles. Meanwhile, Martha leaned against the door and watched him. Her eyes followed his figure: left, right, left, right….

  In her hands, Martha held a scroll that had just been delivered this morning. She had read its contents, of course, but for the life of her — she could not puzzle out why the message disturbed her Master so.

  “Could you run it by me again?” She asked. “Just one more time?”

  Hyzen stopped.

  “Sylvara.” He stated.

  “Yes.” Martha reiterated. “Sylvara will be here in approximately three hours. Now would you please tell me why that’s such a big deal?”

  Hyzen glanced back at her. He parted his lips and then….

  Nothing. Again.

  Martha rolled her eyes.

  “Alright then. Since you don’t wanna tell me, I should let you know that the Empire’s messenger is back. What did you call him again? The golden boy? Well, he’s waiting in the lobby.”

  Instantly, Hyzen’s expression soured even further.

  “It’s just one thing after another….” He mumbled. “Send him in!”

  Martha excused herself. Two minutes later, the man adorned in gold entered Hyzen’s office.

  He slammed his wrist guards unto his chest.

  “Guild Master, sir! I’ve received word from the capital. The shipment has not arrived as of yet.”

  “Oh you’ve got to be kidd —” He paused. “You know what? I should have expected this with how things have been going lately.”

  “… Sir?”

  “First, the Guild makes me Guild Master against my interests. Then, the next thing I know — everything’s gone to shit!” Hyzen grabbed the messenger’s golden shoulder guards. He shook him as he spoke.

  “First it was the mortality rate. Then the farmland went comatose! Then the dungeon’s first floor Boss up and disappeared!” Hyzen’s voice grew louder.

  “Then the caravan disappeared! And now Sylvara — of all people — is coming to investigate the dungeon! Forget the dungeon! Once she finds out everything else — I’m dead! Do you hear me?!!” Hyzen rattled the messenger.

  “I’m a dead man walking!!!”

  *knock* *knock*

  “WHAT?!!!” Hyzen yelled.

  “Would you pipe down?” Kuzo appeared within the doorframe. “You’re making a racket.”

  Hyzen immediately let go of the Empire’s dog. From one to another, he bolted towards Kuzo and leapt into his arms.

  “I don’t think so.” Kuzo sidestepped the Guild Master.

  He placed his hands upon Hyzen’s shoulders and kept him at bay. Ignoring Hyzen’s meltdown, Kuzo looked past his old friend and spoke to the messenger.

  “Thank you for delivering the message on behalf of the Empire. I assure you, the Guild will have this little hiccup dealt with shortly. Please send word that the next caravan will arrive a month later; for recompense, the Guild will double the amount of tonics, as well as raw materials such as silver and bronze.” Kuzo instructed.

  With that, the messenger saluted and left.

  At the same time, Hyzen damn near sobbed on Kuzo’s shoulder.

  “You have five seconds.” Kuzo said.

  “Five.”

  “Four.”

  Hyzen sniffled.

  “Three.”

  “Two.”

  Hyzen rubbed the edge of his sleeve against his eyes.

  “One.”

  Kuzo paused.

  “Good?” He asked.

  “No.” Hyzen replied.

  In response, Kuzo winded his shoulder back. He clenched his fist and —

  “Yes! I’m good! I’m good!” Hyzen back pedaled.

  For a moment, the two stood in silence.

  “I heard Sylvy’s coming.” Kuzo said. “Are you —”

  “I’m fine.” Hyzen interrupted him.

  Kuzo raised his lone eye.

  At that, Hyzen looked away.

  “I think, at least.”

  …

  Suddenly, Kuzo slammed his fist into Hyzen’s gut. Hyzen kneeled over. He choked and coughed. The air in his lungs expunged and he was left instantly breathless.

  “Y-You…” Hyzen clutched his stomach.

  “You needed it. You still had that stupid look on your face.” Kuzo said.

  “What look?!”

  “The sad and pathetic look. Like an abused puppy. It doesn’t suit you.”

  Hyzen sneered.

  “Yeah?! Well at least I’m not some violent —”

  Kuzo readied another fist.

  “Okay! Okay!” Hyzen retreated. He pinched the bridge of his nose and released an agitated sigh.

  Kuzo wanted to punch him again. He knew the man far too well.

  “Out with it.”

  “What if she…” Hyzen fidgeted.

  “I will hit you harder next time.”

  “What if I'm still not enough?” Hyzen asked, unable to look his old friend in the eye.

  In response, Kuzo rolled his.

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” Kuzo said. “Maybe I should hit you again?”

  “What?!! Why?!” Hyzen brought his arms up to defend himself.

  “Aren’t you both Guild Master’s now? You carry the same rank.”

  “What does that matter?” Hyzen protested. “Didn’t you hear my earlier spiel? Everything’s gone to shit and I don’t even know how!”

  Kuzo just shook his head. “Martha!” He yelled. “Get your ass in here!”

  As if waiting to be summoned, Martha appeared in an instant.

  “Fill me in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Then, Martha listed all of Hyzen’s grievances. From the dungeon’s unfortunate ranking to the failed crops, the missing — probably stolen — goods to the discovery of a heretic. At the end of her speech, she arrived at Hyzen’s side and removed his notebook from his hip.

  “According to Lord Cassian, the most probable offenders belong to either Darach or Omen, but without any further —”

  “Stop.” Kuzo interrupted her. “Did you say Omen?”

  “Yes. Why? Are you familiar with —”

  “I’ll take care of the heretic.” Kuzo announced. “In the meantime, write up a quest to defend the next caravan. Make it two parties worth, just to be sure; and let Sylvara handle the dungeon. She’s good. You can trust her.”

  “I really don’t think —”

  “Shut it.” Kuzo poked Hyzen in the chest.

  “Go home. Take a bath. You reek. And you look terrible too.” Kuzo allowed no room for negotiation.

  “Oh. And keep the heretic talk to yourself. Sylvara need not concern herself. I’ll be back tonight.” Kuzo looked between Hyzen and Martha.

  “I expect to hear good things when I do.”

  ***

  From dawn till dusk, adventurers paraded their way through Erin’s dungeon. Most breezed through the first floor; the Bat-Apes had long become predictable and the traps therein had been recorded and publicized by the Guild for over a month now.

  The second floor continued to prove a challenge for many, but for some, the floor quickly succumbed to routine.

  “I hear Batarangs!” A girl shouted.

  She cupped her palms around her ears and, as she did so, her party remained still and silent.

  “There!” She pointed. “From the east!”

  Without fuss, a burly man with a shield over half his size rushed forward. He dropped his rectangular shield unto the ground, a loud thud accompanied it while dust billowed into the air.

  Positioned behind the shield, the burly man’s gaze remained steadfast. He gazed into the abyss. Waiting. Hunting.

  Then, the first Batarang exploded from out of the dark and entered the lunar light.

  “Iron’s Creed: Domed Protection!” He roared.

  And from the gem adorned within the center of his shield, a brilliant light exploded out and wrapped around the party of five. Unmoving, the man kept his hands on his shield and continued to pour his mana into the spell.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Thus, a thin blue veil pulsed around the party and marred the Batarang's crazed descent. A few moments later, the tiny black bats plummeted into the shield and crashed against its form.

  Behind the party’s tank, two people launched arrow and spell alike at the bombardment of creatures.

  “Elemental Arrow: Chain Lightning!”

  The archer cocked an arrow and shouted an incantation. Upon the arrow’s edge, the metal crackled with lightning all while arcs of white burst off its surface and kissed the bowstring that kept it at bay.

  *Thwoom!*

  The arrow cut through the air, and as it flew, it produced the sound of screeching birds that echoed throughout the floor’s canyon. The arrow — disguised as a lightning bolt — tore into a group of Batarangs and singed fur and flesh as it further penetrated into the horde.

  Lightning jumped from bat to bat, electrifying and paralyzing them until they plummeted from the sky and littered the stone ground underneath.

  Beside him, a woman prepared a spell.

  “Sturdy Rock: Scattershot!”

  A ball of earth materialized in front of her. It levitated amongst the air then shattered in a controlled explosion.

  The large rock turned to hundreds of fragments. Then, the serrated shards of earth launched forward. They ripped into the Batarangs like the pellets of a shotgun.

  The shards tore through the air and phased through the pale blue shield. Instantly, the Batarangs popped and blood and tendons rained from above and painted the ground scarlet.

  After the two spells, the majority of the beasts had been slaughtered. What little remained of them retreated back into the dark, but they’d be back. They always came back.

  The man lifted his hands from off of his shield, and thus the dome surrounding them dissipated. He stepped forward and his boot sloshed amongst the puddle of blood that remained.

  He approached a still groveling Batarang —

  *pop*

  — and crushed it beneath his boot.

  With his finger raised, he pointed towards a split in the road ahead of them.

  “Left or right?” He called back.

  “Give me one second!” Another man replied, his fingers already wrapped around a map.

  “Left!”

  Two hours later and after three more waves of kamikaze Batarangs, the party of five finally reached their destination.

  They stood before a bridge that spanned into the abyss. Cracks marred the bridge’s surface and luminescent algae grew tucked underneath its surface.

  Upon arrival, the group immediately gave way to rest. They sat around a collection of logs that had clearly been burned before; black soot marks painted the stone beneath it and age old footprints littered the relatively open space.

  “Today’s the day.” The tank said while he positioned his shield against the wall.

  “It better be.” The earth mage replied, her voice laced with attitude. “What is this? Our twelfth time here?! Tell you what, I’m sick of it!”

  “Please, Becca. Not today.” The archer groaned.

  “What?!” The mage, Becca, shot him a look. “Are you telling me you enjoy being lost in the dark?!! Because I, for one, like seeing!”

  “Guys. Can we please stay on topic today?” The man who carried the map practically begged.

  Meanwhile, the archer pulled his quiver of arrows from off his back and dumped its contents onto the ground.

  “Thirteen, fourteen… I’m running low on arrows too.”

  “Hey!” Becca snapped. “We are not going back up there without making progress today!”

  Ignoring the others, the tank retrieved a cloth from his satchel and began to wipe off the blood that coated his mace.

  “We rest for an hour.” The fifth and final voice interrupted.

  “Then, we storm the bridge.”

  “Aye, aye! Captain!” Becca replied. “We won’t let you down!”

  “Oh my god do you ever stop talking?!” The archer snapped.

  “No? Why would I? Don’t you like the sound of my voice? Isn't it velvety?”

  “I am begging you, Becca. Just a half hour of silence.”

  “Hmph!”

  “Guys! Seriously!” The mapper interrupted once more. “We don’t wanna attract another horde.”

  “Would you relax?” Becca groaned. “The bats have never come this far before.”

  “That doesn’t mean they can’t!” The archer quipped.

  “He’s got a point, Becca.”

  “I know!” She snapped. “But who likes to sit in the dark and be silent?! That’s certainly not normal! Right?!”

  “Becca. Shut. Up.”

  “Fifteen minutes? Just fifteen minutes?” The archer begged.

  For a short period of time, the party rested. For five minutes. Maybe ten.

  “Hey guys?” The burly man interrupted the silence. “I think we might have a situation.”

  “Oh my gods I am going to lose it.” The archer complained.

  “What is it?” The cleric asked.

  “Look.” The tank stood along the edge overlooking the void-like canyon. He pointed downwards, into the dark.

  The archer and cleric took position on either side of the tank. Alongside him, they gazed into the abyss.

  There, deep within the dark, a faint light pulsed.

  “Huh?” The archer narrowed his vision. “What the hell could that be?”

  “I’m not sure.” The tank replied. “But it’s never been there before.”

  “What should we do about it?” The archer asked.

  “Observe.” The cleric replied. It seemed he was the leader of this party.

  Soon after he said that, another light appeared amongst the bottom of the abyss. Two. Then, four. Then, ten.

  One of the lights gradually grew larger. Along the way, a soft hum accompanied it. It sounded almost like —

  “Bugs?” The archer guessed, squinting down into the dark.

  Then —

  *zzzz* *zap!*

  A burst of yellow lightning lit the abyss and cut through the air. It crossed the depths of the canyon in an instant and arrived before the archer’s chest.

  *zzzz* *crack!*

  It collided with the tank’s outstretched forearm. The lightning tore across his arm, up his shoulder, and penetrated deep into his nerves.

  The tank slowly tipped forward.

  “I got him!” The cleric yelled. He grabbed the tank’s back and pulled him back from tipping over the edge.

  His muscles were tensed. His body was shaking.

  “Damn it! Axel! Get your bow!” The cleric kneeled beside the tank.

  He grabbed a talisman from off his belt buckle and placed it over top of the tank’s chainmail.

  Then, he began reciting a spell.

  Meanwhile, Axel — the archer — snapped out of his daze and rushed behind him. He hastily picked up his bow and knocked an arrow.

  “Spells?!!” He yelled out before loosing.

  “No!” The cleric yelled back. “D will be up in a second! When he is — we run!”

  “Fuck!” Axel released an arrow.

  The steel tipped arrow disappeared into the abyss and, a few seconds later, severed one of the many pulsating lights.

  “Ughhh.” D groaned. He squeezed his fingers and wrangled his toes in rapid succession.

  “Help me up.” He was still woozy.

  “Mateo!” The cleric yelled. “Get over here!”

  Mateo, the party’s rogue and map reader, scurried across the stone and wrapped his hands underneath D’s shoulder.

  “One! Two! Humph!” They pulled D to his feet.

  “Can you run?” The cleric asked.

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Good! Whenever you’re ready, big guy!”

  D hurried over to his mace and shield. He still wobbled, but he made it.

  Gritting his teeth, D ran onto the bridge. Behind him, the others followed.

  “Guys!” Axel’s voice was shaky. “Only six arrows left!”

  “Save them!” The cleric shouted. “Becca, you take over! But make sure you conserve enough mana for what’s to come!”

  “On it!”

  Perfectly coordinated, Becca slowed down and Axel sped up. The two swapped positions within the group and continued to sprint across the wobbly bridge.

  In the meantime, underneath them, a sea of flickering lights emerged from the void. They rose from the depths of the canyon like speckles of stardust plummeting from space.

  When they got close enough, a barrage of lightning ensued.

  Then —

  “SKREEEEE!!”

  The Vesperclaw arrived.

  From above, red eyes and toxic drool appeared amongst the dark.

  “D!”

  The tank slid to a grinding halt. His shield was strapped to his back and, in his grasp, he gripped his mace with both hands.

  “Iron’s Creed: —”

  He spun his mace around himself and boosted its velocity.

  “: — Heavy Is The Crown!”

  D released and, in that moment, the spiked steel ball that was his mace deepened in weight.

  *VWOOSH!*

  The rebound sent ripples through the air and cracked the stone beneath D’s feet. A moment later, however, a painful wail erupted throughout the canyon.

  The steel mace cracked into the Vesperclaw’s rib cage and obliterated its expunged bones.

  A second later —

  *BOOM*

  The Vesperclaw plummeted from the air and slammed into the bridge.

  Then, the cracks widened and the bridge’s support started to crumble. Pieces of the floor cracked and dislodged, they plummeted below, and left behind holes larger than man that led to guaranteed death.

  “Stay steady!” The cleric commanded.

  “Axel! Becca!” He called out.

  “On it!” They replied in unison.

  Axel knocked two arrows at a time. He loosed two rounds — then a single — and shot them in an hexagonal pattern around the fallen Boss.

  He reserved his last arrow, however, and before he loosed the sixth, he recited his spell.

  “Elemental Arrow: Modified Chain Lightning!”

  The sixth arrow, coated in blue lightning, ripped away from his bowstring and crashed into the stone bridge. The chain lightning stuck to it then burst apart, spreading from one arrow to the next.

  When the lightning completed the circle, it stretched across the center of the hexagon — and in an instant — a makeshift net of lightning engulfed the Vesperclaw and momentarily kept it bound.

  Next, Becca closed her eyes and began muttering to herself.

  “Sturdy Rock, Of Earth and Metal”

  “Compress and Harden, Birth and Mettle”

  “Take Shape Of Iron, Become Firth Not Brittle”

  “Sturdy Rock: Revolving Javelin!”

  From off the tip of Becca’s staff, a spiraling piece of earth condensed and hardened. Its rocky surface darkened to matte as grey condemned its surface.

  The iron rod elongated and spun. The winds around it picked up and a miniature vortex tugged at Becca’s hair and necklace.

  With the Vesperclaw still entrapped, she launched the rotating chunk of earth across the bridge. The force of the release reflected back unto her, and Becca simultaneously launched backwards.

  She skidded across the bridge and collided with her party leader. He caught her by her shoulders and brought her to a sudden halt.

  Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the bridge, the spiraling iron javelin connected with the Vesperclaw and drilled into it's skull.

  A loud crack followed suit.

  The javelin ruptured the beast’s skull and tore through its innards. It continued through its skull and razed into its chest cavity.

  Bones cracked and exploded. Miniature shards of the creature’s skeleton ricocheted around the air alongside splashes of blood that painted the scene hellish.

  The Boss had been slain and yet the javelin continued to wreck havoc; it tore through the beast and crashed against the bridge.

  In the next moment, the bridge buckled.

  More pieces of stone dislodged and plummeted.

  Not even a second later, one of the adjacent pillars responsible for the bridge’s localized support collapsed; and the left side of the bridge crumbled away piece by piece.

  “RUN FOR IT!!”

  The party of five scattered to their feet and sprinted across the bridge. As D was prematurely in the lead, he took the time to retrieve his mace before further bolting across the crumbling stone.

  As they ran, streaks of lightning blurred passed them. Luckily, none met their mark and the group of five hurled themselves over the final step and tumbled across the floor.

  Mere seconds later, the bridge vanished, consumed by the veil of the abyss.

  “Oh thank the gods!” Axel panted. “I got a little nervous there at the end!”

  “Me too!” Mateo agreed.

  “And yet we came out on top.” The cleric gathered their attention. “Good work out there you guys. It went just as planned.”

  “Barely!” Axel quipped.

  “The lightning was certainly new.” Mateo added.

  “And we overcame it.” The cleric reminded them. “We adapted. We conquered.”

  “And now it’s back to the unknown!” Becca chimed in excitedly.

  “Progress!” The cleric praised. “Now let’s move. We can’t be sure the lightning creature’s won’t follow us here. We need to find the next floor as quickly as we can. D — take point.”

  “Way ahead of you, Boss!”

  “What did I say about calling me Boss?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Mani.”

  “Thank you. Now let’s move!”