Beta Request - Chapters 10 - 12

Chapter 10 - I accept your challenge.

“Thrash car tilapia... door... vacuum!” I screamed with all the force my lungs could muster. I expected a reaction from the devil before me—anger, bloodlust, or maybe amusement—but instead, he just stared at me, his eyes partially narrowed, his face unreadable.

“By the dragons, what did you just say?” the devil finally asked, spreading his arms in bewilderment. “Did you understand any of that?” He looked to his right and left, and I could only imagine the two devils holding me shrugging at the same time.

“Something about a car, wasn’t it?”

Only now did I realize why their voices sounded so strange yet familiar. Aside from their guttural tone, the system had given the freaking devils a primitive and heavy British accent. Elk’s was so subtle I almost didn’t notice, but these two spoke like dock workers who hated docks—or fish, or boats.

“He challenged you to a formal duel,” Elk’s voice came from somewhere near the ground, weak and raspy. Beneath the shadows, I saw him massaging the spot where he’d been hit as he moved slowly.

“Thrak'shar tilen, dor'vaxis?” the devil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I accept your challenge!” I declared instantly.

That seemed to catch the giant devil off guard. He stepped back, blinking in surprise. A few seconds of silence passed before I heard guttural laughter erupt from both my left and right.

“He got you, boss,” the devil on my left said between bouts of laughter.

The one on the right released me as he joined in, and the second devil let me go moments later, still chuckling.

“We’ve been here for only a few hours, and this hornless piece of crap is already teaching our ways to humans. We should’ve killed you,” the leader growled, his voice full of spite as he glared at Elk.

The lanky devil wasn’t entirely hornless—he had two small horns on his forehead. But compared to the giant, circling pairs of horns our captors carried at the tops of their heads, Elk’s were almost nonexistent.

Is that why they ostracized him? Because his horns weren’t big enough?

“You would’ve killed me if you could,” Elk shot back, his tone steady as he slowly got to his feet. He was distant enough from the trio to maybe attempt an escape, but his body language showed no sign of it. If anything, he looked calm.

The lead devil spat on the ground near Elk’s feet.

“Things have changed. We’re not on sacred soil anymore,” he threatened, stepping toward Elk. The men behind me growled in approval, like pigs ready for a feast.

“Are you ready to challenge the duel tradition?” Elk shot back, defiance clear in his voice as he closed the distance between himself and the devil. The larger creature scowled but didn’t move. After what felt like an eternity, the devil finally looked away.

“I’ll honor my ancestors and the dragons above us. I accept your challenge, vermin.”

His gaze snapped toward me, his scowl twisting into a mad grin. Was that a mistake? The thought barged into my mind, but I pushed it away. I had only one option—challenge him or die in the grip of his friends. I wasn’t ready to die. Not without putting up a fight. At least this way, I had a chance.

“Choose your weapons,” Elk said, looking at me. With a wave of his hand, I summoned both my dagger and wand. The devil smirked and conjured a massive club into his right hand, slapping it against his palm as if testing how much force it would take to crush my skull.

“I’ll count to three, and the duel will begin. It’ll only end when one of you is dead or under submission. Do you agree?” Elk asked, though I knew there was no choice. Once the challenge had been issued, there was no turning back. This was life or death.

You are being watched.
 You are being watched.
 You are being watched by a deity.
 You are being watched by a deity.
 You are being watched by a deity.
 You are being watched.

“Even the gods want to see your death, human,” the devil growled, his voice dripping with venom. “The dragons know what you did to us—what you did to them. Reckoning has arrived for you, and it’ll come for your kin as well.”

He spat the words like poison, his glare shifting to Elk, waiting eagerly for him to start the count.

I stayed silent. I had nothing to say—nothing that would make this easier. Some foes responded well to provocation, but I had no illusions about this one. Trying to get under his skin would only make things worse. I needed to study him, watch for the gaps in his guard, and let my weapons do the talking.

It wouldn’t be easy, but there was only one outcome I could afford: victory. Every move I made had to count.

Elk’s eyes met mine, and I gave him a firm nod.

“One.”

I took a deep breath, locking eyes with my opponent.

“Two.”

I gritted my teeth, shifting one foot forward, ready to strike. My mind raced through every possibility, every opening.

“Three.”

The word had barely reached my ears before I was already moving. Like lightning, I dashed forward, my speed—enhanced since I’d entered this cursed place—caught the devil off guard.

In less than two seconds, my dagger sliced across his exposed, crimson chest. He stumbled back, but not fast enough. Blood poured from the wound as he staggered out of range.

Without hesitation, I raised my wand, summoning the Lightning Strike.

The magic erupted through me, crackling and surging to the tip of my weapon. My bones vibrated with the force of it, and the energy exploded toward him in a brilliant flash, striking with a critical force I knew it was meant to deliver.

I expected the devil to be hurled into the far wall, broken and defeated, but instead, a guttural grunt of pain echoed through the room.

The magic faded from my wand, leaving my arm numb and useless.

In that fraction of a second, I had no time to react.

Yeah, the devil was big and strong, but that same attack had sent an overleveled hobgoblin flying. And here the devil was, halted with only a grimace of pain as my reward.

I commanded my body to retreat and prepare for another attack, but before I could step back, the club was already moving—fast. It came diagonally from the ground and struck me in the stomach.

Whatever skill or shard that devil had to tank my attack, I didn’t have it. The blow sent me flying, every bit of air driven from my lungs as my back smashed into the wall.

A lamp fell from above, hitting my forehead and blurring my vision. For those few seconds, my senses scattered. The tunnels became a mess of gray and orange, with a slow-moving pool of red inching toward me.

My ears, however, worked just fine. I caught the devil’s labored words.

“That was… unexpected,” he spat, his voice pained. “Strength coming from a weakling. From a human of all species. I commend your bravery!” He roared the last part as my vision began to clear.

He may have endured part of my attack, but it had cost him. His movements were sluggish, giving me time to gather myself.

The devil dragged his massive wooden club along the floor, his long arm outstretched, his face twisted in exhaustion and pain. Damn, I struck the perfect blow. He should be on the ground.

I coughed, forcing myself to rise, but I was too slow. I was still on all fours when his club came crashing down toward me. I only had time to roll, stopping just near his hooves.

He raised one to stomp my head, but this time I was ready. I brought my dagger up, and just as his leg came down, the blade sank deep into the soft meat beneath his hoof. If he kept the pressure down, it would crush my hand, but as my force collapsed with his and the pain travelled through him, the blade entered deeper. The hilt touched his skin and there was no more force into his strike.

I couldn’t see his face, but I heard his scream—raw and pained. He tried to step down, but the pressure only made him scream louder.

Gritting my teeth, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and rose to my feet. He gripped the dagger’s pommel, his face twisted in agony, and with a quick, brutal motion, he yanked it from his limb.

The devil looked at me, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth. Rage burned in his eyes as they darted around, searching for his weapon. Somewhere in the chaos, he’d dropped the club.

My dizziness faded, and battlelust consumed me. This was my chance.

Realizing what I was about to do, the devil hurled my dagger at me and lunged for his club.

That was his mistake.

As the blade flew through the air, I did exactly as Max had taught me. I dismissed the weapon, and it vanished into my inventory—only to reappear in my hand a millisecond later.

I tackled the devil, crashing into him just as his hand grazed the club’s handle. The inertia of my body slammed him back, keeping him from reaching it.

He struggled, trying to fight me off, but not for long.

As soon as the cold steel of my dagger touched his neck, the devil froze.

No matter the race, the chill of near death was enough to paralyze anyone.

His frantic breaths hit the blade, and a single drop of blood trickled down his skin.

“I’d calm the fuck down if I were you,” I grunted through gritted teeth, pressing my dagger against his leathery skin.

He swallowed hard.

“What are you waiting for? Finish it. Honor the gods,” he said, his voice raspy yet resolute.

I heard movement behind me—his friends closing in. Elk stepped between them and my defeated enemy.

“So I can die at the hands of your friends? I don’t see the honor in that.”

“That’s what you humans lack—honor.” He spat the word as if it were poison, like saying it might kill me.

“Surrender, let me walk away with my friend, and you’ll live to see another day,” I said, forcing my voice to remain calm.

But he focused on the wrong part of what I’d said.

“Friend? Is that your sick sense of humor? Not even a hornless would submit to such low standards.” He tried to move his head, but I pressed harder, drawing another trickle of blood. Behind me, his friends grunted, and I heard the crackling sound of a fireball forming in Elk’s magical staff.

“I’m not who you think I am. My ancestors aren’t even from the same planet as you.”

“As if I’d believe that,” he growled, his eyes bulging as he suddenly screamed, almost making me flinch. “Kill me and spare me your foul words!”

“I saved his life from someone who showed no honor, and then he saved mine in return. It doesn’t matter if you believe me or not, but I’m telling you the truth—about my heritage and my friendship with him. I’m trying to save your life here. Promise to stay out of our way and ensure your friends do the same, and you’ll walk free.”

Even as I spoke, I was positioning myself to slit his throat and spin to face the others if needed. My head was pounding, and I wasn’t sure I had the strength for another fight, but I had no choice.

The devil beneath me stared for a moment, his body unmoving. Then, to my surprise, he spoke.

“I accept your terms.”

His words made my eyes widen. Instinctively, I searched for Elk’s face. He met my gaze with a nod.

I loosened my grip on the dagger’s pommel and heaved myself up. The devil instantly moved both hands to his neck, wiping the blood, his skin darkening to an even deeper crimson.

With a single, swift motion, he stood, towering over me. Anger still smoldered in his eyes, but he didn’t make a move to attack.

A deep grunt escaped his throat, and he glanced to his sides before offering me his hand. I gripped his forearm tightly, and finally, his gaze met mine.

“I’m grateful for your acceptance. May the dragons oversee your journey,” I said, unsure if my words were enough but feeling they were better than silence.

Another grunt came from him, but this time I could swear there was the shadow of a chuckle at the end.

“Be on your way, human. It was a good fight.”

“Yes, it was,” I replied, releasing the strange ‘handshake.’

I reached for Elk’s robe and tugged him forward. He resisted at first, his eyes locked in a silent standoff with the other two devils.

“Come on. Let’s go before the other two decide to challenge me—or you.”

That snapped him out of it. Elk blinked, then quickly fell into step beside me. His footsteps were fast, the distance between us and the devils growing with every hurried step.

“That was close!” Elk said over his shoulder. “I’m not sure I could’ve kept the pose much longer. I was about to piss myself.”

“Me too,” I lied. The truth was, I’d never felt so alive. But that feeling unsettled me. Maybe it would’ve been better if I had been scared out of my mind.

“We were lucky. That could’ve ended very differently.”

“At least now you’re a Champion.”

“Am I? What does that mean?”

“It means you’re now… how can I put this in a way you’ll understand? You’re… important, I guess.” He glanced behind him, as if making sure we weren’t being followed. “I’m not sure how it works with humans, but Champions are well-liked. The ones with a lot of victories are even worshiped. When word gets out that you defeated one of us, the others will think twice before challenging you.”

“I guess that won’t be a problem,” I said, just as the system flashed two messages in front of me:

Congratulations, you earned the Title [Duel Champion].
 Congratulations, you’ve gained a sponsorship. Golden chest arriving in…

3…

2…

1…

Chapter 11 - Friendship.

Title: [Duel Champion]
You fought a traditional duel against a mighty Arahaktar foe. This title is upgradable. Win more duels to increase your power.
Constitution: +1

I barely had time to read it before a golden box magically appeared before my eyes. One moment it wasn’t there; the next, a perfect metal cube adorned with intricate golden patterns stood in front of me.

As I stepped closer, the box opened. Inside, a metal chest piece lay waiting. It was simple yet sturdy, designed to cover the entire front of the torso. Its shape resembled the muscular build of a warrior, with leather straps to fasten at the back. It looked like the armor of an ancient soldier.

When I picked it up, a message appeared before my eyes:

Common - Roman Chest Plate
Used by centurions on Earth, this chest plate is reliable and durable.
Constitution: +1

A second later, the chest plate was on my body. I quickly realized I could equip and unequip it just like I summoned and dismissed the wand and dagger.

Where the chest plate had been, a piece of paper now lay. I picked it up and examined it. It was a message written in English, with elegant calligraphy:

Hi, Zach,
I’m thrilled to follow your journey in this year’s competition. I chose something from your planet, hoping it would make you feel better. I know it can be hard, but you’ll endure. Know that you have people cheering for you, and I’m your biggest fan.
With love, Xharx, daughter of Xharx.

The paper disintegrated from my hand at the same time as the box, messages appeared on my sight to let me know I could re-read the letter later if I wanted to. A mix of bewilderment and exhilaration coursed through me. It was easy to get angry when you spent more than a second thinking about the powers at play—pitting us against each other in this sick game—but at the same time... I felt amazing.

Power surged through me as my thoughts crashed against each other.

“Everything alright, Zach?” Elk asked, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I looked up at him and smiled. “Brilliant! I’m still surprised you’re not calling me mate or saying things like ‘Everything’s alright, innit?’” I tried to mimic his British accent, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

He seemed puzzled. “Was I supposed to call you ‘mate’? That would be well off.”

I supressed a laugh and continued, determined not to explain the intricacies of human accents for now. “Yeah, man… I’m good.”

“Great!” He smiled and continued, “besides, the gods seem to favor us. Deities keep watching.”

“Are you seeing the same notifications?”

“I didn’t earn the title or the sponsorship, but they’re still here. More are coming. I guess they want another perspective on your success.”

“You literally fought off several goblins to survive, saved my life, and pulled off some crazy illusions back there, man. I bet you’ll get sponsored soon.”

“Maybe.” Elk shrugged, motioning for us to keep moving.

We’d finally reached the second floor, and as the messages—and our encounter with the other devils—made clear, others were already here, wandering the corridors, searching for a way to fight the boss and earn a spot in the real challenge.

We needed to move faster if we wanted to be among the two hundred.

“Were you being sincere back there?” Elk asked, his voice low.

“When?”

“When you said we were friends.”

Elk slowed his pace, walking beside me and glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. There was a shadow of vulnerability in the giant’s gaze.

“I guess... yes.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, man. I owe you my life, and you’ve shown me nothing but support. That’s enough to call someone a friend where you’re from, right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” His voice was distant now, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding mine.

“I thought you said you had friends.”

Maybe I should’ve let it go, but there was something in his demeanor—something familiar—that sparked my curiosity. Something I could relate to.

“Hornless friends. We didn’t have much choice but to be allies. We don’t usually survive for long, you know. So I only had a few friends, and I didn’t choose any of them—not that I didn’t like them.”

“I understand,” I said and I trully meant it..

Elk scoffed and then looked at me. I’d stopped walking and was staring directly at him.

“You actually do? Humans also throw their ‘hornless’ into Hell to die?” he asked, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

Damn, I felt like an idiot and suppressed the urge to laugh nervously. “I understand it metaphorically. I was in a bad spot for the first fifteen years of my life. I didn’t have many choices, and when I did, they were usually between a shot to the foot or one to the hand. Do you get what I mean?”

“So, you were a beggar?” He raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if I was genuinely stupid.

“Something like that,” I admitted, patting his shoulder as I started walking again. “I knew people who had it worse, and, in the end, I think I handled it well. So... no, I wasn’t thrown into Hell to fight for my life, but I fought anyway.”

“The gods’ plans are indeed perfect. Only an ugly, human beggar could possibly understand me in this new trial.”

“Hey!” I shoved him, a little harder than I intended. Elk looked genuinely surprised.

I chuckled and continued, “I’m not ugly. I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but never of that. And I don’t live on the streets anymore. I worked at a law firm.”

“Were you an inquisitor? We have those. Scary lads.”

“Nothing like that. More like helping people ensure their rights were being respected. I worked mostly with civil rights cases.” I was proud of the months I’d spent working in law. Aside from my time in St. Gerome’s, helping lawyers with their cases was the closest I’d ever come to being a good person.

It helped me forget, even if only for a few hours a day, what I’d had to do to survive.

And yet, despite all the effort I’d put in, here I was again, with the whole world—or worlds—watching my true self. Bitterly, I let the thought form in my mind, only to argue against it a second later. You did what you had to do, and you’d do it all over again if you needed to. Do it for them.

I sighed as we kept moving, the tower floor eerily silent.

“What’s the problem with being hornless?” I finally asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

Elk seemed to expect the question but didn’t flinch. He sighed deeply before answering.

“Exactly what it sounds like. When we reach twenty-five, if our horns aren’t bigger than five inches, they throw us into Hell.”

He didn’t elaborate. When I realized he wasn’t going to, I pressed further.

“Is it something religious?”

“For the ones who throw us into Hell, yes. For the ones being thrown? It’s ignorance and the perpetuation of a wicked tradition.”

“So, it’s the priests who enforce this?”

“Yes and no. There is the warrior caste, the dragon priests… it’s complex..”

Elk didn’t strike me as someone who’d spent years in Hell, whatever that meant. The thin devil reminded me more of a history student than a prisoner—a scholar, not a fighter. Even though the topic seemed painful, he didn’t carry the kind of trauma I’d expect from someone fresh out of Jumanji-level hellscapes.

One thing was certain, though. Whatever Hell was, he’d preferred to take his chances in this strange game rather than stay there. That told me all I needed to know.

“I’m finding this whole place eerily silent,” Elk added after a few seconds, echoing the very thought I’d had not long ago.

“Stay here. I’ll scout ahead.”

He nodded, and I moved forward, quickening my pace and relying on my silent steps to stay unnoticed.

With my dagger gripped tightly in my right hand and my wand in my left, I moved through the corridors, sticking to a straight path and avoiding detours wherever possible. I walked for five minutes before deciding it was wiser to return to Elk and retrace our steps.

I was certain I’d stumble upon something—or someone—preparing a trap for us, but nothing happened.

When Elk finally came into view on the horizon, he was waving frantically, urging me to hurry.

With quick strides, I closed the distance, and before he even spoke, I understood his urgency. He pointed behind him, toward the direction we’d come from. That’s when I heard it: the unmistakable sound of massive footsteps stomping against the ground.

We moved to a nearby corner and crouched, peeking out like two middle schoolers spying on their crushes during cheerleader practice.

It didn’t take long for the source of the footsteps to appear under the lamplight shadows. And no, the motherfucker didn’t look like a cheerleader.

His thighs were the size of an obese kid, his belly round and protuberant, and his biceps so defined they looked more like cobblestones than muscle. His leathery skin, similar to a goblin’s, was stretched taut, as though three goblins had been crammed inside the skin of a giant one.

The creature howled in pain with each step, its massive limbs slowly dragging it through the corridor.

When it was about thirty steps away, it stopped and dropped to the ground with a loud THUMP.

That’s when we got a good look at it. The monster had a round nose pierced by a thick metal bar that cut through both nostrils and part of its cheeks. The adornment looked agonizing, and I wondered how the beast managed to eat without suffering unbearable pain.

It turned out I didn’t have to wait long to find out.

From its back, the creature pulled out a dismembered leg—enormous and red, clearly belonging to an unfortunate devil.

It opened its mouth, but as soon as it tried to bite, it let out a pained scream, squeezing its single eye in the middle of its forehead shut as a tear rolled down its face.

I had to suppress my gag reflex as I watched the cyclops feast. With each bite, it cried louder, yet it didn’t stop eating.

“What are we going to do?” Elk muttered, his voice barely audible.

We could flee—the thing was clearly strong enough to overpower a devil and dismember them barehanded.

But there was one problem.

I didn’t want to flee. I wanted to kill it. I wanted to upgrade my core.

It was almost as if I could hear the viewers on the other side urging me to fight. Maybe they thought I was the reluctant hero type, when in reality, my blood was boiling, ready to charge straight at the beast.

“We kill it. With a plan,” I mouthed, and Elk nodded.

“Back in the duel, when I used the lightning strike and the enemy didn’t fall—did you see anything different?” I asked, my eyes fixed on the cyclops, watching for any sign it had noticed us. But it was too absorbed in its grotesque gluttony and pain to care about our whispers.

“His skin went silver for a moment before the magic hit,” Elk replied.

“So, you’d say it was a special ability, like a particular shard?”

“I’d say that.”

“So, here’s the plan: you create an opening for me with your illusions, and then I’ll make a new one for you to strike with your magic. Sound good?”

“Right,” he mouthed, pausing briefly. “Now?”

“Now,” I hissed, watching the creature take one last bite of the devil’s thigh.

A second later, an illusion of a devil appeared beside the cyclops. The likeness was almost perfect—except for the lack of sound as it moved across the ground.

Looking closer, I realized the figure was modeled after the devil I’d beaten in the duel, his anatomy replicated with stunning accuracy. If Elk’s illusions had any artistic value, he could’ve rivaled a Renaissance painter.

It took a moment for the monster to notice the intruder at its side, but when it finally did, it let out another howl of pain, heaved itself up, and lunged to tackle the illusion.

The cyclops fell face-first, the sound of its chin smashing against the ground echoing through the corridor.

That was my opening.

I moved quickly, striding as silently as possible with my dagger and wand in hand. I wasn’t sure which I’d use first—it would depend on the monster’s reaction.

Halfway toward it, the cyclops rose faster than I thought possible and kicked the illusion with all its strength.

The momentum carried the creature backward, and, like something out of a cartoon, it crashed to the ground, its skull and back slamming against the rocky floor.

As it hit the ground, I was already upon it.

The monster’s massive eye—black as night and only half-open—was my target. My dagger sank into it with a wet squelch.

The cyclops opened its mouth to scream, its massive arms flailing to strike me. But before it could connect, I pointed my wand directly at its gaping maw.

I leaped back as a lightning bolt erupted from the wand, surging through the creature. Unlike the devil I’d faced earlier, this monster had no special ability to protect it.

It convulsed violently under the force of the lightning until fireballs and a massive flaming serpent engulfed its body.

The cyclops didn’t scream as it died, and for that, I was grateful. Before long, the entire corridor was bathed in the glow of its burning flesh.

Then the messages appeared before my eyes.

Ding!
 You have slain Cyclops F6!

Ding!
 Congratulations! Your soul core has been upgraded.

Calculating…
  Mana upgraded.

Constitution upgraded.

New Stats:

Subject: Zach Walker

Race: Human (Earth)

Class: Mage, Rogue

Merged Class: Undergoing calculations

General Rank: F6

Constitution: F7

Magic: F5

Mana: F5

Speed: F4

Strength: F6

Jesus, it felt good to read those stats.

I didn’t even bother counting the constant stream of messages from viewers. They’d been pouring in for the past hour, and while I had no idea how many people were watching or for how long, I could only assume they were enjoying the show.

“Good work,” I said, patting Elk as I approached him.

“We should keep moving,” he replied.

“My thoughts exactly. This will attract attention.”

Without another word, we continued on our way, walking silently and staying alert.

After what felt like an hour, the sound of swords clashing reached our ears.

Chapter 12 - Decisions. 

“What are we going to do?” Elk asked as we moved quickly through the corridors. We weren’t exactly running—just in case it was a trap.

“About what?” I asked, slightly out of breath.

“Are we going to help them?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Do you want to help whoever’s there, even if they’re one of your kind?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Elk replied, coming to an abrupt stop. I had to backtrack a few steps to face him again.

“What?!”

“We should decide now. If they’re humans, are we going to help?”

“Yes.”

“Aren’t you an outcast as well?” Elk asked, clearly struggling to grasp the intricacies of human society.

“I was, but we generally help each other. The safest bet would be to help.”

“Even after what that other guy did?”

That question gnawed at me. He had a damn good point. I’d trusted Max, and the payoff had been disastrous. But I’d also trusted Elk, and so far, that was working out just fine.

Despite the red of his skin, the small horns, hooves, bent knees and his strange mix of alien and British accents, Elk felt pretty human to me.

“If it’s one of your kind, we’ll be more cautious before approaching. If it’s one of mine, we’ll be more likely to help.”

“And if it’s one of the others?”

“We’ll figure it out. We’re wasting too much time.”

I finished as the sound of howls of pain and the clash of weapons against metal and flesh echoed through the tower’s tunnels.

After a couple of minutes of quick strides, we got close enough to identify the sounds.

A feminine voice cursed, her accent unfamiliar, while some creature grunted mid-attack. Another feminine voice called out from a different point in the tunnel.

I immediately imagined elves battling hobgoblins, and when we turned the corner, my suspicions were confirmed.

Elk stopped a few steps ahead of me, extending his arm to block my path.

The tunnel ahead widened, the walls stretching further apart to form an almost circular space.

On one side, a woman with braided hair and olive skin held an oversized shield in her left hand while desperately trying to lift another woman to her feet.

Blood soaked the second woman’s shiny armor, and despite her efforts to stand, the weight of her heavy white armor kept pulling her to the ground.

I looked into their eyes, and recognition hit me like a boulder.

Before deciding what to do, I scanned the rest of the room. In the opposite corner, a large hobgoblin stood half-kneeling, half-standing, with a bow in hand, firing arrows one after another in their direction.

Its right leg was clearly wounded, but that didn’t stop it from shooting. Nearby, other hobgoblins lay dead on the ground—some with their faces smashed, others with arrows piercing their eyes or hearts.

Between each arrow, the hobgoblin whistled toward the tunnel.

“I know her. Let’s help,” I told Elk, not waiting for an answer.

I conjured a lightning bolt and sent it flying toward the hobgoblin, but it missed its mark.

Hearing the thunder and seeing the bolt, the creature instinctively turned toward us, just in time to see Elk’s fireball streaking toward its face.

The impact sent the hobgoblin crashing to the ground, its limbs thrashing as it desperately tried, in vain, to extinguish the flames.

I rushed forward and finished it with a quick slice of my dagger.

Behind me, I heard the giant shield crash to the ground and the human woman speaking,

“You’ll be okay. I’ll figure it out.”

Her tone betrayed her lack of conviction, but I didn’t have time to assess the situation.

We quickly discovered who the hobgoblin had been calling.

From an adjacent corridor, the sound of fast footsteps echoed, accompanied by the yelps of animals closing in.

I stepped forward, Elk by my side, shielding the duo leaning against the wall.

It didn’t take long for the animals to appear.

With long legs and elongated bodies, the creatures stood tall on four legs, howling as their sharp teeth gleamed in the dim light, saliva dripping from the corners of their mouths.

At first glance, they resembled coyotes, but their size and the murderous, intelligent gleam in their eyes told a different story. These beasts were the size of Saint Bernards, as strong but twice as fast.

Their heads hovered close to the ground as they studied us, calculating the perfect moment to strike.

No matter how many points I had in speed, I knew we couldn’t outpace them. Engaging them with daggers alone, without some kind of leverage, would be suicide.

An idea flashed in my mind—a simple one, but with the right execution, it could work.

“Can you make an illusion of your fire serpent?” I asked through gritted teeth, trying not to move.

“I can try,” Elk replied, shifting only his eyes.

He already had his staff in hand. As it began to glow at the tip, the creatures watched with curiosity, their muscles tensing as if preparing to attack.

Instead, they hesitated, their keen eyes fixed on the white smoke emerging from Elk’s staff, which twisted and coalesced into the form of a fire snake.

At that moment, the beasts stepped back. They continued howling, their bloodlust undiminished, but now tinged with fear.

“Now do a real one,” I added.

Elk’s eyebrows rose, and I could almost see the proverbial lightbulb flicker above his head.

“I see what you’re doing,” he said, waving his staff again.

The creatures remained focused on the false snake, its flaming body writhing hypnotically as it slithered slowly toward them.

When Elk conjured the real serpent, it moved faster, sliding directly toward the two wolf-like creatures.

The illusion leapt at the beast on the left, which spun in a full circle, trying to dodge the ethereal figure. Confused, it snarled and snapped at the snake, its intelligent eyes slowly piecing things together.

Just as it looked up, preparing to strike us, the real fire serpent struck.

The flaming snake coiled around its neck, suffocating and burning its flesh.

A few embers from the serpent flew toward the second beast. As if the god of coyotes had whispered in its ear, the creature bolted, whimpering like an abandoned pup as it fled down the tunnels, leaving its companion to die.

Ding!
 Congratulations! You have slain Hobgoblin F7.
 Congratulations! You have slain Warg F6.

“Well done, Elk,” I breathed heavily and patted his shoulder. He replied with a smile.

“It was your idea.”

I didn’t argue. I was quickly realizing Elk didn’t take compliments easily and always tried to deflect them, giving credit to others. I’d known people like that on Earth, and while I wished he’d recognize his own merits, it wasn’t the worst flaw someone could have.

We moved toward the duo behind us, keeping our eyes open for any lurking creatures.

The woman with braided hair pressed a piece of cloth against the other’s stomach. The fabric had lost all its color, now soaked in crimson, blending with the armor and skin beneath.

I approached them, crouching. The woman tending to the other noticed me and almost jumped to her feet.

“Easy,” I said as calmly as I could, raising both hands in the air.

“I thought you knew her,” Elk interjected from beside me.

“I do,” I replied, pointing to the second figure. How could I forget her?

Her dark, slim hair, pale face, purple lips, and big yellow eyes were unmistakable. But instead of the calm reassurance I’d seen in her before, her eyes now radiated pain. She grimaced with the shadow of death looming over her, and I couldn’t blame her.

“You don’t have potions?” I asked the olive-skinned woman.

She shook her head. “We don’t. We used them on the first floor.”

Her voice was dry, her body trembling under the weight of urgency. She was probably shaking more than the elf she was trying to save.

“You still have yours, Elk?”

“I don’t.”

“So, I’ll give her mine. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, mate. Go ahead.” I raised one eyebrow, seeing he had adopted the ‘mate’, but kept my attention on the task at hand.

I pulled a small potion from my inventory and let the droplets fall one by one into the elf’s already half-open mouth.

Slowly but surely, life seemed to return to her. The other woman removed the cloth, and we watched as the wound visibly closed before our eyes.

The elf drew a labored breath, one that could’ve come from a newborn, and blinked forcefully.

“You,” she said after licking her dry lips. She adjusted herself, leaning against the wall and grimacing as she tried to sit without using one of her hands.

“Be careful. These potions aren’t as effective with major wounds. You need to take it easy—there might still be internal bleeding.” I moved a hand toward her, trying to sound reasonable. Part of me expected her to pull away, but instead, she raised a hand toward me and smiled—a gentle smile, like the one she’d given me when we first met.

“There’s nothing broken inside me, Zach,” she said, her voice calm, completely opposite to the despair I’d seen in her eyes moments ago. “One bone is cracked, but other than that, it’s just bruises.”

“And how do you know my name?”

“The same way I know I’m not internally wounded, or how I knew I’d survive this sad encounter. The wind whispered it to me.”

Now that she’d spoken more, I finally placed her accent. She sounded Spanish, and I couldn’t think of anything more fitting.

“Like magic?” I asked.

“Like magic,” she replied softly.

“Who is this man, exactly, Tress?” the other woman asked, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance that she was trying hard to hide. “I’m sorry for being rude—you just saved my friend’s life—but we need to be careful.”

She turned her gaze to me now, her tone calmer, though her body shifted protectively between me and the elf like the enormous shield I’d seen her wield earlier.

“My name is Zach. I’m from America, like you,” I said, placing a hand over my heart. I had recognized her Texan accent, and that seemed to calm her a little. “I’m a law firm intern, and this is my friend Elk.”

She glanced at Elk, her eyes narrowing slightly. Her senses were sharp, and she was clearly cautious.

“So, you two are the ones with all the fancy titles. You’re not what I pictured,” she said, then cast a second look at Tress, who was still smiling at me. “I wasn’t expecting that Russian blond midget to stab Tress in the belly and flee, but I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“What?” I asked, leaning forward, feeling Elk’s hand on my shoulder. I must’ve sounded a little too eager, because the woman shifted defensively. “I’m sorry, what did you say about a Russian?”

“A guy jumped us out of nowhere. Said he was looking for someone, and then we were attacked by those Lord of the Rings-looking creatures. When he saw Tress was a Myriad, he stabbed her and fled. I tried to follow him, but ultimately, I had to choose between fighting him and helping Tress.”

“And he was alone? There wasn’t a woman with him?”

“No, no woman. Are you all right, dude? I’ll smash your face if you try something funny,” she said, leaning closer to Tress. Her eyes weren’t as threatening as her words.

“I’m sorry. I know this guy—he tried something with me too, but Elk saved my ass,” I said, sighing as I sat on the ground.

“When he wounded me… his heart was so cold,” Tress muttered, her voice distant as her eyes wandered somewhere I couldn’t follow.

“Is your friend… all right?” the olive-skinned woman asked, glancing at Elk, who didn’t seem offended.

“He’s nice, but I wouldn’t mess with the others of his kin.”

“I know. One of them tried to kill us. If it wasn’t for Tress’s arrows, we’d have been flayed like the poor bastards we found earlier today.”

“Flayed?” My eyes widened as I met Elk’s gaze. He only shrugged.

“Flaying enemies is an old tradition,” Elk replied nonchalantly, his tone devoid of disapproval.

“We should keep going,” I said as I stood, wiping my pants and sighing as my back adjusted to the new position.

“I wonder if we’re close to another safe room. I could use some food,” Elk said thoughtfully, looking in the same direction I was.

I knew how to read a room. The braided woman hadn’t even shared her name with us, and she had every reason to be suspicious. We’d earned a few menacing titles since entering this game, so when Elk mentioned the safe room, I was already planning our next move.

As we were about to start walking, Tress’s faint voice stopped us.

“Wait. We need to stay together.”

“What are you doing?” the other woman asked, shaking Tress’s shoulders.

“Do you believe the wind speaks to me?” Tress asked, locking gazes with the other woman.

“I don’t know. I believe you know things I don’t—or things I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Then trust me. We need to stay together if we want to see another day. It was whispered.”