Egnatia waited outside the Great Forest, letting her anger continue building within her stomach. Nothing could quench it. Like a constant hunger, building and building.

She was the best fucking hero, and all the heroes she had spoken with before they headed to their pathetic deaths inside the tower spoke of the same three things. The same three freaks.

A goblin.

A portal guard.

A failure of a magus.

Abyssal fire swirled around her clenched fist. Those heroes truly believed those three were going to be the next great heroes to walk the world. They thought Vondaire would be unlike anything Verdantallis had seen before. She had seen his kind plenty of times. Maybe less handsome, but all the same. Vondaire wasn't special. He wasn't anything.

Owin's death would come soon enough. That was clear. Enough of humanity saw the goblin as a danger that they were uniting against him in a way that no other cause had managed before. His band of freaks were becoming the most wanted heroes, and they were all gaining new enemies every day.

But Myrsvai . . .

She clenched her jaw.

The Maimed Magus had been special to her once. They were emerging on the hero scene together. They were going to be great together. Then he failed. He failed and made her hero company look pathetic. To be so defeated by lesser heroes was nothing beyond an embarrassment. It didn't matter if he killed them or not.

The way he hid himself away, the way he disappeared and left her alone in Minolitana Prima.

Pathetic.

Voolyn emerged from the void, cast her a humorless eye, and stepped aside. Nastya appeared. Her tail swung once before she stepped aside and watched.

Olena appeared with scaltari feet and hands, while her face remained mostly human. Green, scaled stripes ran from her jaw to her thick black hair, unchanged besides two streaks of blue, almost white hair, and two curved horns rising from the top of her skull. She glanced at Egnatia with fiery blue eyes.

Nastya gently waved Egnatia over.

For some reason, she obliged.

"We will separate in Oriathria. Voolyn will return to Nagyati to find suitable heroes in the Golden Bulls to join our cause. I will head to Dolym to organize the Three Heads, and to find a third head. Olena needs to train to reacquaint herself with vision and senses." Nastya's crocodilian face was difficult to look at. She stared at Egnatia for a long moment.

"You want to know what I'll do?"

"Yes. What will your move be? Once we settle our companies, we will hunt Althowin's allies. Their time has come. They will face punishment for their alliance with a traitor to humanity."

Seeing three inhuman heroes standing before her all agreeing to the same statement had some odd humor, and yet, Egnatia agreed. The Nimble Hogs were nothing more than a stain on the whole country of Stelsodo.

"Magna Regum will follow me to the end of the world. I can send a message to organize. They will know what to do."

"Arrogant," Voolyn said.

"Then what will you do?" Nastya asked.

"I'm going to kill the Maimed Magus."

***

Desert Dungeon

Seventh Floor

Two Shards Active

Owin rolled away as Chorsay pulled a burning chitin boot off his foot. The burns were minor, but the heat had been building quickly. They stood in silence as the chitin cracked, then broke away, leaving just the sleeve he could fit his foot back into.

They were inside a small room of a sturdy stone building. It was nothing like the flapping tents on the previous floor. Some sun shone through a window, revealing dust hanging in the air. In fact, everything was covered in a layer of dust. Where Chorsay had stepped, then obvious sat, were the only places that looked disturbed.

"It grows back?" Chorsay asked quietly.

"Yeah." Owin tapped the sleeve to make sure it was cool, then slipped it over his foot. Sinew appeared, even without chitin, to fit the boot properly.

"How were you on fire?"

"I killed the golem and it exploded."

Chorsay scratched his cheek. "Hm."

"Big explosion," Torban said.

The old man looked at the bag. "I keep forgetting you talk."

"I saved Owin's life."

Owin shook his head. He did another quick survey of the room, then walked into the rest of the building. It had obviously been a home before being abandoned.

"I think we should hurry to the exit. Do you have the floor mapped out?" he asked.

Chorsay opened his index. "I do. Haste shouldn't be needed."

"Chorsay, every one of those 5 Shard Heroes on the list want us dead." Owin stopped himself, frowned, and picked up a dusty mug from the floor. "Me. Not you."

"A better reason to get your fusion. Just because someone may be on the floor with us does not mean they will find us. This floor is sprawling." Chorsay's comforting hand pressed on Owin's head. "Trust me."

"It makes me think of Artivan."

Chorsay took the dusty mug from him, looked it over, and gently set it in his pack. "Most things make me think of Artivan. I understand your fear, Owin. Let us head into these ruins and find our monsters."

They walked into the ruined city. Owin wasn't expecting it to be in such horrible shape after the condition of the starting building. He quickly realized that the building had been one of the few still standing on the entire floor. Plenty of walls or partial buildings stood, but all were in a shape that suggested they had been dead and abandoned for a long, long time. Each street was covered in rubble. Piles of rocks and petrified wood were pushed against the walls, leaving the center of the roads open, even if one had to swerve a bit when walking down.

Walking was awkward without one boot. Since he wasn't level, his steps caused him to waddle in an odd gait. There wasn't anything he could do besides wait for the chitin to regrow.

"What city is this?" Owin asked.

"Amnopis," Chorsay said.

Owin had expected that answer. "There are golems patrolling the city. You're going to fuse with one of those?"

Chorsay smiled without looking down at Owin. "Clever goblin. Yes, that is my plan. There are regular golems running on low mana power. Near the stairs, there is a floor boss with a full mana battery and a body made from alchemical stone." He scratched his neck and gave Owin a look. "Don't ask me for more details."

"Alchemical stone?"

Chorsay huffed.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"I'm used to you knowing more than me."

Summon the Withered Shade

"Wow!" Shade jumped in front of them and extended his arms wide. Isotelus flopped in his hand. "What an explosion! I've been killed in a lot of explosions, but that one . . . wow!"

"The shield almost burned away," Owin said.

Shade looked all around, then poked Chorsay in the stomach. "We're on the next floor. How are you? You look healthy. Big and strong. How'd you get through the sixth floor."

"I completed the quest." Chorsay put his hand on Shade's shoulder and pulled the skeleton along as they continued back down the street. "It's how everyone has always done it."

"Everyone except Owin!"

A footstep pounded up ahead. A poof of dust passed the corner of the building, quickly followed by another.

"Did you attempt the quest?" Chorsay asked. He gently pushed Shade back, drew his sword, and stomped forward.

"I think you already know the answer," Owin said.

Chorsay shook his head in disappointment just as three golems marched around the corner. Red eyes locked on them. After seeing the monstrous thing from the previous floor, these looked simple. They were about the same height as Chorsay and their batteries were barely glowing. Their movements were jerky and slow.

"Do you want help?" Owin asked.

A golem shot a beam of mana, which hit Chorsay and didn't stop the old man's march forward. He reached the first golem, grabbed it with a free hand, and tossed it into a ruined building on the right. He swung the Winged Blade at the next. The sword chopped into the stone in a horrendous screech before stopping. He stepped back and tore the blade free. Chorsay blocked a punch with his forearm, shoved the third golem back, and punched it in the face. Red lights flashed as the golem stumbled back and fell, landing in another poof of dust. Chorsay chopped again, hitting the golem in the same spot. The sword cut through stone, then sliced deep into the mana battery. Fire engulfed the golem as Chorsay planted a foot against it and shoved. Bits of the Winged Blade burned.

The last golem, the one thrown into the building, walked on shaking legs back onto the street. Chrosay turned and thrust the sword directly into the mana battery. A small blue explosion caused the bags of bricks on Chorsay's armor to sway. The golem fell back into the ruins.

"Help?" Chorsay said. He sheathed the sword and brushed dust from his gauntlet. "Are you forgetting who I am?" His smile was wide as he waved them over.

"He could punch me," Shade whispered.

"What?"

"Come on." The skeleton waved Isotelus back and forth, letting the limp sword flop each direction as he strolled down the street.

Chorsay stood at the intersection with his index up. "I don't believe I was aware of the Horror they mentioned. What was it called?"

"Arenaris," Owin said. "It's on the walls somewhere, I think."

Chorsay sheathed his sword and used his thumb to point left. "The shortest route to the wall is this way."

Shade walked right past him and headed left. "How many golems are on this floor?"

"Perhaps hundreds." Chorsay waited for Owin, then walked by his side while Shade led.

"Hundreds?" Shade turned his head all the way around. "That's more than I thought. I was thinking like eight."

"Eight mobs on the whole floor?"

Shade shrugged and turned his head back around just in time to see and avoid a few bricks that had fallen into the middle of the street.

"Intruder detected."

Owin felt Torban produce a sword, so he reached down and pulled the Incandescent Blade free. The bag burped loudly.

"Butcher detected."

"I got this." Owin ignited the blade and sprinted past Shade. Two golems emerged from an alleyway, crushing bricks beneath their feet. They were slightly larger than the ones Chorsay had killed and had bodies made of darker stone.

Owin leapt, chopped through a mana battery, hit the ground and ducked as fire and magic exploded. His bootless foot slipped, allowing for a stone fist to crack against his helmet.

Owin rolled and stayed on the ground, lying on his back, as Shade sent spinning pieces of Isotelus at the golem. They cracked against the battery, but didn't cause it to detonate. Chorsay smashed a shoulder into the golem and tossed it backward. He stomped and stabbed down with the Winged Blade, killing it quickly.

"I know," Owin said.

"Clumsy," Torban said.

Chorsay offered a hand and effortlessly pulled Owin to his feet. "We should find more books about that sword. I am sure it was designed specifically to kill golems."

Owin held it out with the blade burning. "It just seems like normal fire."

"It might be."

"Torban said something about hatred."

"Powerful hatred," the bag said.

"Powerful hatred," Owin repeated.

"I have a powerful hatred of those who waste time," Shade said. He had gathered the pieces of Isotelus back into a limp sword and walked in place. "Waste makes haste. Get pooping so we can get walking."

Owin stopped the mana flow into the Incandescent Blade and fed it back to Torban, who made some discomforting noises while taking the sword.

"You have that backward," Chorsay said. "It's a proverb that suggests thinking ahead and planning will help a situation go in your favor. You two are certainly not exemplars of that proverb."

"That can't be true. How often am I wrong?" Shade slapped the limp sword on a dead golem, poked it with his foot, then set off as soon as he realized Owin was ready to move. "Waste makes haste. Pooping makes you walk faster. It lightens the load, as they say. Unclenched cheeks let a hero walk with purpose." He took big, exaggerated steps. "And I'm poop free."

Chorsay just silently shook his head.

"Torban, let's keep that sword away for now. I think the mobs can sense it somehow." Owin looked at the bag. Two eyes emerged on black stalks, rising from the bag. Bright yellow irises were the only colors other than the perfect black of the specter.

"I don't have other weapons."

Owin tried to keep his face neutral while watching the mouth of the bag move with the words. It was like a weird snail was talking to him.

"I know. I can punch or use a few spells. Or I can just take Isotelus from Shade."

The skeleton gasped.

"He doesn't need it."

"I know how to fight. I'm . . ." Shade opened his index. "An assassin! That means I can actually use the sword with something close to skill."

"What is close to skill, Shade?" Chorsay asked.

"Bill. Kill. Mill. Do you need me to continue?"

Owin elbowed Chorsay's leg. "I can always unsummon him."

"You wouldn't dare! A two minute cooldown? In this economy?" Shade continued complaining while he talked with his hands, frequently slapping himself with the limp sword.

They reached the wall after finding two more patrols of golems. Both groups consisted of three golems with a similar stone type for their bodies as the first ones Chorsay had killed. Owin was able to punch hard enough to kill the golems in a few hits, but Chorsay was able to handle them much faster with the Winged Blade and his own insane strength.

The wall around Amnopis still stood, though sections had crumbled like most of the city. Entire sections of the wall had melted and made oddly shaped chunks of stone that still protruded from the breaches. The shimmering boundary wall was visible just beyond, giving no real room outside the city to roam.

Just the walk to the wall had been long enough to walk from one end of Kisisu to the other. As far as Owin could tell, Amnopis was twice the size, if not even bigger. It really had been a grand city, if it had ever existed outside the dungeon. If Lyra Magnan had been real, if the siege had been real . . . he didn't know what to think. The lehboa he had been talking to so calmly on the sixth floor were ready to kill him immediately upon seeing the sword.

Maybe it was a good question for the god of the Desert.

But it would have to wait until they figured out who was right behind them, or if they passed without issue to the eighth floor.

"Where to?" Shade asked. He used Isotelus to point left and right, along the wall.

Their path to the left was cut off by a collapsed watchtower. There was probably a way to climb over or through the tower, but the way to the right was clear with only some melted stones and old rubble piled against the ruined wall.

"Probably that way," Owin said.

Chorsay ran his fingers over one of the melted stones. "That way works. How do we know when we see the mob?"

"Black vines," Owin said.

"That should stand out against all the sandstone and golem pieces," Shade said. He stood on his toes. "Nowhere here. Off we go."

A Shard Hero has entered the floor

Five Shards Active

Owin sighed.

"We keep it quiet and slow. They will pass," Chorsay said.

"What if we run into golems? What if I need to fuse and it's a 5 Shard mob?"

Chorsay squatted with some difficulty and bumped Owin's chest with a fist. "A 5 Shard mob will be a stronger fusion. Golems are nothing but piles of stone."

"I don't do things quietly."

"You don't." Chorsay reached to his hip and patted the pommel of the Winged Blade. "Let me and my old friend handle it."

"You're sure?"

"I am more than sure, Owin. We should find these vines before this shard hero leaves." He stood, winked at Owin, and set off, following the wall. "Black vines? It can't be a plant."

"It's a prazene," Shade said. "I still think he should fuse with Baby Head."

"I know it's a horror, Shade. Plants can't be black. They need to be green to grow."

"If I was green, would I grow?" Shade asked.

"I don't know."

Owin walked behind them, fists clenched, and breathed rapidly as his heart hammered in his chest. Two specter eyes lifted on disgustingly long stalks until Owin couldn't help but look right into the yellow circles.

"Calm," Torban whispered.

"I can't."

"Sword?"

"No."

Owin almost tripped as some chitin reformed on the bottom of his foot. Over the next couple of steps, the chitin regrew, allowing his awkward gait to return to normal. Torban shifted its eyes to rest on Owin's shoulders, which he hated. The bag was still learning and growing, so Owin didn't want to yell at it and make it hate him. He just ignored it and tried to focus on the nonsensical conversation Chorsay and Shade were having. It was mostly Shade asking questions and occasionally giving Chorsay time to answer one or two.

They were so calm, and he didn't understand how.

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