Shade dramatically threw the door open, then immediately slammed it back shut before Owin could even see inside. “I don’t know about this one.”

  “What was inside?”

  Shade narrowed his eye sockets and leaned heavier against the door. “Other than a bunch of elves stabbing each other and sobbing? Well, it’s a chapel, and I just cannot think of a situation in which we would want to find ourselves inside a chapel within a dungeon.”

  Owin looked back down the hall where the other dead elves lay strewn about in pools of their own blood. “Is it worse than what we would find that way?”

  “That way may just contain a closet with a few brooms. We love brooms, don’t we?” The door thumped behind Shade as an elf cried out. Some blood soon leaked underneath the door.

  “Pretend I don’t know things.”

  “So, a broom is a thing where you go back and forth to push all the dust into the corners of your house so it looks clean as long as your guests don’t really look all that close.”

  Owin started nodding slowly. “And a chapel?”

  The door thumped behind Shade again. “Oh, that’s simple. A place of worship. Imagine you are walking about thinking about how much you love Sloswen and you think, ‘Wow, I wish I had a bunch of other ocean-loving freaks to sit in a room with and dream about Sloswen.’”

  Owin stared up at the skeleton who had lifted one foot as the pool of blood running under the door continued to grow. “Is it always like that?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not. Some of the gods are a lot better, and some people even worship demons or cathkabel for some reason.” Shade put his foot back down and almost slipped in the blood. “Not that I’m saying Myrsvai is a freak. Or not a freak. I mean, you know him better than I do. There’s a lot of things we could say, isn’t there? Aren’t there? How does the grammar work here? Is it whom or whomst? Whomst’ve? Is that a word?”

  Something else smashed into the door behind Shade.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about anymore.”

  “Anymore? Oh, don’t act like this is a new development, Owin. You have never known what I’m talking about. You just like the noise.”

  Owin grabbed Shade’s arm and yanked him away just as something else battered the door. Dead elves tumbled out, splashing into the pool of blood. Behind them was a white statue of a woman in a helmet and a dress, not unlike some of the elf rebels he had seen before. The statue had a hand outstretched, covered in blood. It shifted its stance back, standing tall in the middle of the chapel. Each movement from the statue sounded like stone scraping and creaking.

  “See what I mean?” Shade said. “There is nothing pleasant about some unknown elf statue trying to murder us, yet here we are facing said statue in what will certainly be a one-sided battle.”

  “For us?”

  Shade pressed the Thunderstrike Maul into Owin’s arms. “Well, I certainly hope so.”

  “If you think I’ll win, why did you close the door?”

  “I do a lot of things without thinking, Owin. You don’t need to make me feel bad about it.” Shade walked back, grabbed Owin’s shoulders, and pushed him toward the door. “Off you go.”

  The statue grabbed a wooden pew and threw it before Owin even reached the doorway. It hit the wall, shattered, and sent splinters flying. Owin brought up both arms, using his gauntlets to protect his face. He felt the pressure of each splinter, even against his metal arm.

  As soon as the wreckage calmed, Owin sprinted through the door and swung the hammer. Before the statue could attack, the Thunderstrike Maul smashed through the marble foot, sending a cloud of dust and a burst of stone shards flying to the side of the room.

  Some elves, both rebels and their enemies, were still fighting along the sides. Marble shards ripped through the less armored elves, sending 0 Experience notifications through Owin’s vision.

  The statute braced itself, crushing more pews. Marble hands scraped on the ground, clawing for any hold. Owin hopped into the air and swung the hammer up, into the statue’s chin. Cracks shot through the statue’s face before the entire head exploded. Bits of marble rained through the whole chapel.

  Owin waited and watched the fighting around the room. The statue itself wasn’t a mob, which meant there had to be a possessor. The last time he had fought them, they had escaped right before they were destroyed. He watched for the hazy movement, but there was nothing.

  “Let me see that hammer,” Shade said.

  Owin held it out and watched as Shade smashed the other hand of the statue.

  0 Experience

  “How did you know?”

  “The fingers were still moving.” Shade let the hammer rest on his shoulder as his index appeared in front of his face. “Elf rebels and elf loyalists. If we were to side with one, which would you choose?”

  The elf loyalists were wearing complete sets of matching armor, and from what Owin could see, were winning the battle inside the chapel. Their armor and weaponry was so much better than what the rebels had.

  “If they don’t even have names, is there a way to tell why they’re fighting?”

  “Probably not.” Shade leaned forward and squinted his eye sockets. “There is a robed elf over there. Have we seen any elves in robes yet?”

  Owin also leaned forward until he spotted the pod of elves in robes. They had hoods up that hid most of their faces.

  “We haven’t seen any,” Owin said.

  The robed ones were fighting both rebels and loyalists, but they were using makeshift weaponry. Some had picked up swords and spears from those they had killed, but others were using candlesticks and bottles of wine.

  “I don’t know if I understand the story,” Owin said.

  “There’s no real story here. Not like the other dungeons. It’s better not to think about it. Want to see something fun?”

  Owin gave Shade a look. It wasn’t on purpose. While there were times Owin felt like he could stay looking serious, Shade promising fun was not one of those moments.

  “You don’t think I can be fun?”

  “Your idea of fun can be different from mine,” Owin said.

  Shade handed the hammer back to Owin, then sprinted across the room. He stumbled three separate times, slipping on broken marble and wooden splinters, before he reached the back of the chapel where the robed elves were defending a door. No one turned to acknowledge him.

  Shade turned his head all the way around and winked.

  A chunk of Owin’s mana drained as Shade cast Push. The loyalists with their backs to Shade fell into the robed elves. He followed it up with a Repulsion Wave that sent all the elves stumbling into one another. Many crashed against the walls and the wooden door.

  Owin sprinted over, leapt past Shade, and swung the Thunderstrike Maul with all his strength. The hammer glowed bright as it smashed into a single elf. A shockwave exploded and tossed lifeless corpses, and Shade, away from Owin. Some elves lived and fled as fast as possible.

  “I don’t necessarily hate this whole telekinetic magus thing, but I do have to say that these spells don’t appear nearly as strong as Myrsvai’s abyssal attacks.” Shade had his index open as he poked dead bodies with his feet. “I think, perhaps, we’re not using the telekinetic attacks to their full effectiveness.”

  “You said you would teach me about the classes,” Owin said as he pushed the wooden door open. A wine bottle hit him in the nose, thrown by a robed elf behind a bathtub barricade.

  A half dozen robed elves hid behind the ruined tub and wreckage that looked like it had once been a bed. Each of the elves held some makeshift weapon except the one that had a knife.

  Owin looked at his mana, then stuck out a hand and cast Repulsion Wave. All the piled wreckage acting as a barricade launched at the elves, killing them immediately.

  “Well, that does answer a number of questions, some of which I have yet to uncover. If you had only hit the mobs with the spell, they would have tipped over, but sending a whole bathtub at someone? Genius. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  On the left was a wide doorway that led down a long, quiet hall. There were doorways every few feet all the way down, some of which were open with bed sheets or parts of furniture partially dragged out and discarded. On the right was a pantry holding what looked like just wine and crackers. After a moment of looking over everything stored inside, Shade ran through the pantry, knocking all of the wine on the floor. He splashed back to Owin and gestured to the final door, the one the elves had been guarding.

  Owin opened it slowly, expecting to take another bottle to the face.

  An elf in layered red robes stood near a ridiculously big bed. He had a thick black mustache and small eyes, which he used to glare at Owin. “Get out!”

  Fortress Mob

  Elf Bishop

  Level 16

  Two robed elves stood in front of him like bodyguards, each holding a knife that didn’t look suitable for fighting. It reminded Owin of the knives he had seen in kitchens.

  “Who are you?” Owin asked.

  “Get him!” the bishop yelled.

  Owin leaned to the side, letting a knife slip right past his head. The other elf stabbed and scraped the edge of the knife across the chitin armor. It screeched, gouging a line into the red armor, until the flimsy blade snapped.

  One powerful swing of the Thunderstrike Maul sent both elves flying into the wood paneling on the walls. They both crumpled and collapsed to the floor.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  “Do you have a name?” Owin asked.

  “Heathen,” the bishop said.

  “This one has a name!”

  “Oh, no,” Shade said. “He’s calling you a name. An insult, if you will. Not a good one either.”

  “Really?”

  “You will burn, heathen!”

  Owin threw the Thunderstrike Maul. His aim was significantly better than it used to be, but it wasn’t perfect. Instead of hitting the bishop in the head or chest, the hammer smashed into the elf’s leg. Bones snapped as the elf folded over the hammer with a shriek.

  “Sorry!” Owin ran up and used the lich bone to quickly end the bishop’s life. “That was an accident.”

  “I don’t think he's too worried about it,” Shade said.

  “It was an accident.” Owin shook the bishop’s corpse, grabbed a sapphire, and tossed it into his bag. “Are there any skills that help with throwing?”

  “If I’m an assassin, yes.” Shade walked around the room, touching everything. He opened drawers, tossed out bits of clothes, and tapped his fingers on every little object. “This is a lot of decoration for a random bedroom.” He pressed his hand on a panel of the wall, yelped, and fell through. Only his feet were still sticking out of the wall.

  “Are you okay?”

  “There are lizards here,” Shade said, his voice distant and muted.

  Owin slowly approached and waved his metal hand through the wall. It was only an illusion. He stepped over Shade and entered the narrow passage. To the left was a long stretch of hallway that ended with what looked like another illusory door. On the right was a small group of scaltari that looked entirely out of place. The last time Owin had seen scaltari had been in the Great Forest back when he had met Artivan.

  “This is the secret!” The excitement in his voice made him a little louder than he had intended.

  All the lizards turned at once.

  Shade sat upright. “I have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  Shade scrambled to his feet and ran out of the secret without another word.

  Owin stayed and watched the group of scaltari advance. Fighting the lizards likely wouldn’t be that difficult. They weren’t new enemies, and the scaltari he had fought didn’t have any special tricks.

  Shade reappeared with an armful of debris, including the elves’ knives. He dropped it all in the passageway. “Blast it!”

  “Do what?”

  Shade pushed Owin aside and cast Push. The debris launched down the passage and shredded one of the approaching scaltari. “Disappointing,” Shade said as he stepped back into the illusory wall. “I guess you just have to fight them now.”

  Owin set the hammer to the side and drew both knives. He had fought in narrow places plenty of times. This wouldn’t be difficult.

  He sprinted, dodged a spear, and slashed knees and thighs. A few attacks scraped on his armor as scaltari started to collapse. Before long, Owin stood in the center of corpses. They were propped up on the walls of the narrow passage, leaking blood from slit throats and thighs.

  “Zezog really did teach you some things,” Shade said. He leaned an elbow on the stone wall. “I was expecting you to do the same stuff, but maybe hit a little harder.”

  Owin stepped over the bodies until the ground at his feet was dry. “We practiced for a long time. I’m trying to stop myself from jumping every time.”

  Shade picked through the scaltari weapons and corpses. He found a health potion, which he deposited in Owin’s bag. They walked slowly down the passage with Owin in the front. He kept his eyes on the stone floor right in front of him. It would be better to have Shade out front in case they stumbled upon a trap, but they had already started and Owin didn’t want to work to convince Shade to swap spots.

  They came to a split in the passage. Three identical chests were grouped together straight ahead, at what looked like the end of the passage. To the right, massive axes swung back and forth over scaltari corpses. The wall at the end wobbled slightly.

  Owin continued straight ahead without a word. There was no reason not to check the chests first. He flipped open the left chest and leaned on the lip. A flanged mace lay inside. Its dull metal made it difficult to see in the dim light.

  Shade walked past and flipped open the center chest. A massive tongue lashed out, wrapped around Shade’s torso, and yanked the skeleton into its mouth. The mimic burped out a puff of gray smoke.

  Owin sighed.

  The mimic hopped and opened its mouth again. Gobs of spit dripped from its fangs. Owin took the Thunderstrike Maul, hopped into the air, and slammed the hammer down as hard as possible.

  It felt as if the entire Fortress shook as the glowing metal head of the hammer crashed into the stone floor, splitting the mimic in two. Mimic guts and gray dust splattered against the walls.

  Owin pulled a shield potion from the mimic’s corpse and found two constitution potions in the third. He grabbed everything, including the mace, and walked to the swinging axes. They moved separately from one another, making it difficult to see a pattern.

  If he had been in the Fortress without a shard, would they be swinging slower? He knew the mobs were stronger, but even on the second floor, they weren’t a threat at all. Whether or not traps were included in things that got stronger was a complete mystery. He would have to ask Potilia or Althowin.

  Instead of running through the axes unnecessarily, Owin walked all the way back down, through the bishop’s room, and out through the chapel. A few elves had survived the fight, both rebels and loyalists, but they were injured and shied away from Owin. He let them stay.

  Back in the main hall, he moved slowly pressing the mace against the stone wall as he passed. Just beyond the chapel, the mace passed through the wall. Owin stuck his head in and found the other side of the swinging axes.

  Summon the Withered Shade

  Shade appeared, looked around, and sighed. “I died to a mimic? Of all things? It was the greed, wasn’t it? I was too certain there would be some wonderful loot, and what did it get me?” The skeleton was holding Isotelus, the new spine sword from Althowin. He let it wobble back and forth as he waved his arms about.

  Owin shrugged and opened the next door. It opened to a dining room full of rebel and loyalist elves fighting. Some were standing on tables, knocking over dishes. One rebel stepped on a turkey and slipped, only to be stabbed by the loyalist he had been fighting.

  Shade leaned on Owin and looked into the room. “We could loot their corpses, or . . .” He reached over, grabbed the door, and swung it shut. “We go find the floor boss.”

  “What class are you?”

  Shade’s index appeared in front of his eyes. “Soldier. Well, that doesn’t help us a whole lot. Or perhaps it does. Soldiers are all ability based, so nothing we do will use your mana. It looks like we can use up to level 50 soldier abilities right now. Do you think Unyielding will work on me?”

  “I don’t know what that is.” Owin started toward the end of the hall. He passed over the loyalists and rebels they had seen fighting before entering the kitchen.

  “It’s an ability that can only be used one time. If your health hits zero, you regain a single point back and just don’t die. It isn’t all that difficult to kill you after, especially if you still have a sword in your brain or something. But I don’t have a brain, so what’s the risk?”

  Owin reached the final door near the end of the main hallway. He tossed it open and waited for Shade to catch up. The skeleton was still walking with his index open and kept tripping over the elf corpses.

  “Pass me the hammer,” Shade said. He held out Isotelus. “I think you should try this one.”

  “Okay.” Owin did the exchange and frowned at the floppy sword. “Didn’t you say something about it being a weird weapon back in the Ocean?”

  “I said it was good for fighting many enemies at once.” Shade gestured to the fifteen loyalist elves inside the throne room.

  The elf king looking old, muscular, and regal, sat upon the throne with his hands folded. A hammer equal in size to the Thunderstrike Maul sat on the stone dais beside him.

  “I can try it. Are you going to fight with the hammer?”

  “Oh, of course. I am a soldier, after all. You know me, the strongest skeleton you’ll ever meet.”

  Owin moved into the room and stepped to the side, allowing Shade to enter beside him. “That’s probably actually true.”

  “It might be, now that I think of it. Use that second ability first, see what it can do, and switch to the first ability if anything is still alive. I’ll get anyone that comes close.” Shade gripped the hammer and waved it back and forth, causing the metal to glow gently.

  Owin held Isotelus in both hands, took a deep breath, and activated the sword’s second ability, Shuriken. The different segments of the sword spun and disconnected, floating in the air all around him. Owin pointed with his metal hand, flinching again as the spinning segments flew past.

  The elf loyalists had all remained in their positions, blocking the way to the king. They had shields raised and a variety of weapons. If he wasn’t too strong for the second floor, it would have been a formidable boss room. But having a divine weapon already made things too easy.

  The shurikens ripped through the first elves. Wooden shields were turned to splinters and metal was ripped as easily as paper. When he recalled the segments, they would reform in the blade, so if he wanted to make the most of the ability, he needed to let the shurikens pass through the remaining elves during the recall.

  He dashed past Shade, who startled and tried to catch up.

  Shade tripped and fell onto the Thunderstrike Maul.

  Loyalist elves all turned to Owin and huddled together, creating something akin to a shieldwall. Instead of charging them, Owin walked to the side, passing columns, until the shieldwall was between him and the shurikens. His proximity drew the attention of the king and his guards, but they couldn’t do anything before Owin recalled the segments of Isotelus.

  The spinning bone blades flew through the air and tore through the elf loyalists. They all gathered, forming back into a blade. Before it could flop over, Owin activated Frost Blade, freezing the segments and turning the weapon into a greatsword.

  The king’s guards seemed stronger, but the first one could hardly do anything when Owin swung Isotelus horizontally. Ice as sharp as a razor chopped through the spear’s shaft and easily sliced the elf in two. The swing was too slow to cleave the second, so Owin dodged the elf’s attack and swung Isotelus overhead, slicing the guard’s head in two.

  The third guard found an opening and stabbed a spear at Owin’s hands, forcing him to let go of the blade. Owin took a half step back, ready to lunge and punch, when the Thunderstrike Maul smacked into the elf’s helmet, denting it. Blood leaked from the guard’s face as he slumped to the ground.

  “I still made it,” Shade said.

  The king’s hammer smashed into Shade’s face, sending the skeleton flying past Owin. Gray dust puffed out, creating a makeshift smokescreen.

  “You rebel fools. You can’t stop me,” the king said.

  Owin rolled his eyes.

  The mobs still acted like there was some grand story even though Diphinadra didn’t even bother naming them.

  A hammer passed just over Owin’s head. He grabbed Isotelus and blindly swung. The king howled and blood shot through the gray dust.

  Owin took another step back. He hadn’t gotten any experience notifications, which meant the king was alive. Fighting while unable to see was only going to put Owin in unnecessary danger.

  “I got him!” Shade shouted. He sprinted past, tackled the king, then puffed into dust as the king punched the skeleton.

  Owin swung Isotelus down and decapitated the king. His head rolled away, coming to a stop at the base of a column.

  “I guess Unyielding worked,” Owin said quietly.

  He grabbed a health potion and a dexterity buff from the king. There were also a lot of gold coins, which he just scattered about the floor. It was too annoying to carry all of those.

  Owin walked up the dais and sat on the throne. Suta would probably do the same thing when they got to the throne room. They were twins, after all.

  Summon the Withered Shade

  Shade appeared beside the throne, patted Owin on the head, and went to retrieve the Thunderstrike Maul. “What did you find?” he shouted.

  “Potions.”

  “Did you take them?”

  Owin pulled out the two constitution potions and the dexterity potion. “Look at all this.”

  “Faster and able to take more hits? Exciting stuff,” Shade said. He sat on the armrest of the throne. “There’s another fake wall behind the throne.”

  “I saw it,” Owin said. He popped the corks off. “Ready for the third floor?”

  “I’m ready for something,” Shade said. “Not entirely sure what yet.”

  Journey and Artisan constitution buffs, and one journeyman dexterity buff weren’t huge on their own, but all together, it was a jump in speed and health.

  Hero

  Owin

  Deficient Wizard

  Nimble Hog Hero Company

  Level: 1

  Strength: 700

  Constitution: 380

  Dexterity: 320

  Intelligence: 467

  Wisdom: 169

  Charisma: 190

  With the shard active, all attributes were multiplied by 1.5. He stared at the index.

  Strength: 1050

  Constitution: 570

  Dexterity: 480

  Intelligence: 700

  Wisdom: 253

  Charisma: 285

  With both shards active, Chorsay was still stronger, and Vondaire was still faster. But Owin would catch them both before long.

  “Looking good,” Shade said. “Off to the third floor. You know, I wish I remembered what it was. I’m sure it’s nothing horrifying or difficult.”

  “Shade.”

  “I’m just saying, we wouldn’t want something horrifying and difficult. What if there are horrors there after I say this? Oh my, do you think I’m predicting the future?”

  Owin walked away, passing through the illusory wall. The exit swirled on the opposite wall. The stairs up followed the same two turn structure as the rest of the floor stairs he had used.

  “Is it predicting or do I just have faint, unpleasant memories of this place from a previous life? Or am I just making things up and lying to you? Honestly, all could be possible. I could be such a great liar that even I’m not aware of it.”

  Owin walked up the stairs and passed through the void nexus before Shade could keep talking.