Grillo and I had set up shop outside the low-level undead dungeon, where the green elves were training with adult chaperones like my dad and Luna. My mother, it turned out, was quite the healer, tending to injuries with herbal remedies and soothing words. Most wounds were minor—cuts and scrapes—but her skills ensured even the clumsiest of children recovered swiftly.
I’d always known she had a knack for herbalism, but I hadn’t fully appreciated her expertise until now. Apparently, her only class was Herbalist, and she was level 250—respectable, but not impressive by combat standards. Still, it explained all the nasty-tasting remedies she forced on me as a kid.
Today was my turn to enter the dungeon and finally test my axes in combat. Unfortunately, my debut was less than heroic. I’d made the classic gamer mistake of assuming skeletons would burn like kindling. Turns out, bones are not flammable—they just smell like burnt hair and take forever to char. When I set my first skeletal opponent ablaze, it sauntered out of the flames like the Terminator. Startled, I fell flat on my backside, my pride taking a nosedive as Emma crushed the skeleton with a single blow, laughing hysterically.
“Just stand there and look pretty,” she teased, extending a hand to help me up.
Raising an eyebrow, I quipped, “Want me to make you a sandwich while I’m at it?”
Emma grinned. “Depends—how cute is the other guy?”
“GROSS!” I shouted, dramatically recoiling.
She leaned in, her grin turning wicked. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t share you with anyone else.”
Her playful tone was laced with a teasing edge, but the predatory gleam in her eyes had me worried. One day, she’d grab me by the collar, drag me into our tent, and make it very clear who was in charge. Not that I’d resist… but I wasn’t ready to find out how much Emma’s strength translated to, well, other activities.
Despite my humiliation, fighting in a party was surprisingly rewarding. I could see everyone’s health and mana bars in the corner of my vision, a feature I hadn’t fully appreciated until now. Emma and I shared leadership responsibilities, ensuring resources were pooled effectively and dangerous loot stayed out of the kids’ hands.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
As the party leader, I also had dibs on spellbooks and skill tomes—a perk I wasn’t shy about leveraging. Dungeons often dropped rare or unique spells, but so far, all we’d found was a [Cleaving Strike] skill book. It wasn’t much use to me since I’d already learned the skill through practice, but we gave it to one of the more promising fighters among the green elves.
One of my biggest frustrations, however, was discovering how poorly axes fared in confined spaces. Throwing my weapon often resulted in it embedding itself in a dungeon wall—or worse, a ceiling. Retrieving it was a hassle, and the risk of having it ricochet back at me wasn’t worth the trouble. I resigned myself to close combat, where my axes excelled at smashing skeletons into satisfying piles of bone shards.
Emma, meanwhile, had leveled up faster than anyone, her agility and strength making her nearly unstoppable. By level 80, both of us had slowed to an experienced crawl, and we knew we’d have to descend to the dungeon’s second floor to make real progress. The only obstacle was the floor boss.
When we finally reached the boss chamber, we were prepared for an epic battle. What we found instead left us dumbfounded: a small gray house cat batting at a beetle, entirely oblivious to our presence.
"... What?" I muttered, utterly baffled.
Thinking it might be some kind of illusion, I activated [Soul Analyze].
Species: Average House Cat
Level: 90
Traits: Adorable, Floor Boss, Swift Evasion
HP: 3405 (+2000)
MP: 3000 (+2000)
Abilities:
Paws of Scratching, Feline Grace
It was... just a cat. A very cute cat. The dungeon had even nicknamed it "Cute Princess."
The ladies in our party let out a collective “Awwww!” as the cat rolled onto its back, purring. Luna, my mom, and Emma were instantly smitten. Emma scooped it up, cradling it like a precious treasure.
“This... this hurts,” I groaned, clutching my chest dramatically. “It hurts, Morty!”
The ladies ignored me entirely, fawning over the cat as if it were the greatest discovery of the century. Apparently, the dungeon had decided its first floor boss should be an immortal kitty. I couldn’t decide if the dungeon was trolling us or genuinely believed this was an appropriate challenge.
Still, the door to the second floor was open, and the cat showed no interest in stopping us. Usually, floor bosses couldn’t leave their chambers, but Emma carried it out without issue, cuddling it to her chest.
The second floor was a stark contrast to the first. Here, the enemies were aggressive zombies that attacked on sight. Whatever pacifist tendencies the dungeon had on the first floor were clearly abandoned here.
I grinned, hefting my axes. “Time to go full Doom mode!” I shouted, charging into the fray with a war cry.
“GET SOME!”
