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Lisle realize just how shaken he was. Was this what it was like being a mage? He’d imagined a warm college dormitory, roaring fires. Class in the afternoons, reading books in the evenings.

But real mages spent their time in dungeons. Scared, out of mana, getting their face clawed to pieces by owls.

The barbarian walked back into the room now. His expression was scary. Not fear, not sadness. Completely devoid of emotion.

“Press on to the loot room,” he said. “The mage is dead.”

Lisle looked at Bill. His older brother showed a curious mix of fear and courage in his expression. He was proud of him at that moment, and at the same time, he wished he was back home with Vedetta and mother. He wanted to hug his sister and say sorry to her.

The warrior walked to the tunnel ahead of them, and there was nothing Lisle and Bill could do but follow.

Bill walked ahead of Lisle, and they followed a passageway ten feet until it opened out into a wide, oval room. There was a loot chest in the center.

“Holy gods damned hell demons. What is that?” said Bill.

Lisle recoiled when he saw the beast step out of the shadows. It was some kind of spider with slugs for legs, and grey, hard skin. It gazed around the room in eight directions at once.

It looked like it could use its legs to eat people. That it could smash you to pieces with its stone head and body. It was a creature designed to kill, to maim, to destroy any hero foolish enough to battle it.

“A boss monster,” said Bill. “The end of every dungeon.” He turned to the barbarian now. “We have no mage, bard, or rogue. Tell me you at least planned to face an elemental boss.”

“Plan? My plan is to kick its arse all the way to hell.”

“What?”

The barbarian approached the loot chest in the center. “Hold off the freak,” he told them.

Bill held his sword in dueling stance, while Lisle saw that he now had enough mana for two more fireballs. Still not enough. Not enough at all.

His brother whispered to him. “Grow a fireball on your palm. Don’t cast it yet. We need to make the monster wary. It doesn’t know how small your balls are. Your fireballs, I mean.”

Lisle nodded, and he let mana seep into his palms.

The barbarian, standing in front of the loot chest, raised his sword. Light flashed down it now, before glowing a deep, dark red, and then yellow. It looked like he’d just taken it out of a forge.

It must have been a barbarian skill.

“Strike of Almighty Fury!” shouted the barbarian, and he smashed his sword against the chest, shattering its padlocks.

Lisle was beginning to see why barbarians were thought of as being so stupid. While mages, rogues, and bards used their skills in silence, barbarians had to shout idiotic phrases to activate theirs.

The barbarian grinned at the brothers now. “More than one way to loot a dungeon,” he said. “I’ll grab the treasure and we’ll find a way out. Screw the boss monster. You’re with me now, kids. When you’re with me, you know you’re with the real brains of the party.”

The barbarian reached into the unlocked chest.

And then he screamed in a way that Lisle had never heard in his life. It was a cry so primal, so unexpected, that his blood froze, and the flame died in his hand.

Bill ran over. “A bear trap! The chest was trapped!”

The barbarian raised his hands, bringing the trap out with it. Both his hands were caught in its teeth. “Get…this…off…me…” he said, in between sobs and gasps.

There was no time.

Because then, Gary the boss monster bounded over to the barbarian and attached three of its slimy legs to him.

Then Lisle saw the teeth, and he realized they were leeches. It had leeches for legs!

The barbarian fell on his back, turning paler and paler as the giant leech legs drained his blood.

The brothers backed away.

They were alone.

A rookie swordsman and mage, alone in a dungeon that had already claimed the lives of a party of fully licensed heroes. This was the end, and nobody would ever know it had happened.

Their mother would think they had left. So would Vedetta; she’d have no idea that a damn dungeon existed underground near town.

Lisle stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Neither of them said anything. They were completely muted, completely disarmed by fear now.

And the monster turned their way. His face was pure evil, his leech legs swollen with blood.

Just then, just as Lisle prepared to meet his end in a dungeon that he wished he’d never entered, he heard a voice. A voice he recognized. A voice that filled him not with hope, but an overwhelming fear.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he shouted.

CHAPTER 33

“No. Not now! What are you doing?”

I shouted like a madman at the scene playing out in my core vision. I just couldn’t believe it.

One second, Gary had slaughtered the brute and was left with only the two rookie lads. It was over. I could almost hear Overseer Bolton’s reluctant congratulatory speech in my head.

The next thing I know, a little girl with red hair ran into my loot room and sprinted over to the rookie swordsman and mage. The mage pulled her into a hug. It was completely sickening.

Gary prowled over to them, and the girl pushed away from the mage and looked upwards, at thin air. I knew what she was doing.

“Halt your monster, Beno,” she said. “These are my brothers. You wouldn’t hurt someone close to me, would you?”

Oh, for doom’s sake. I really didn’t need this.

It was an interesting question, though. Would I hurt someone close to

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