**Dante, The 22nd Floor

  Dante's mark on 605 remained active, plagued every night by vague dreams of his target's location. These dreams revealed far less than they had with previous targets. He suspected that the earthbound possessed some skill to interfere with premonition. The kid moved as if he could see the future, because every ambush point he set up had been evaded. He prayed to the Emperor that the slave would get himself killed. Because in his weakened state, he didn't know if he had the strength to destroy the runaway slave any longer.

  The boy grew stronger by the day, while Dante's edge dulled with each step away from the capital. Once a proud scion of his tribe, Dante had been destined to lead the Hunter clan. Until The Calling stole it all, his cousin took over as heir. The heads of the Scarlet Legion appeased by the sacrifice of the young hunter heir, they wouldn't call for another from his line for another five generations. He turned 30 this month, but that day echoed as if it were yesterday.

  All signs pointed to 605 starting at level one, where level 50s would struggle; this kid had destroyed everything that lived here. The bodies that littered the floor showed that the young man was methodical and skilled in combat. His scout captain had confirmed, using his Blood-tracking skill, that most of the blood on the floor belonged to the monsters, but trace amounts of 605's remained, and alongside it was an unidentified person's. There must be another earthbound here with him.

  "Jace, report back to the commander and request a roster of all the slaves that perished in the wolf attack from two weeks ago. We need the confirmed dead and those missing and presumed dead." Dante barked at one of the newer recruits.

  His death squad consisted of 20 level 50-70 assassin trainees. Jace was promising but still far too soft; he had ass kissed his way through the more intensive parts of his training, becoming the pet of one of the instructors. He didn't even have the white silver eyes characteristic of those who could see in the dark. It wasn't a requirement, but you did need some form of sensory skill to rely on in the dark; elves would learn eyeshine, their most common sensory skill.

  There were four stages of training, and that was the first part. They were left in the dark for 3 months, given nothing but a knife and told that they needed to survive until the next batch of recruits arrived. Jace had lucked out and stumbled upon a carcass trail from a large bear. The raw strength and ruthlessness of a typical Scarlet Legion trainee were lacking, but Jace had guile and cunning. He would never be a top hit man, but this trainee would go far in the political landscape. The likely reason he wasn't executed for his subpar showing in training, and also why Dante assigned him to most of the interactions with that incompetent Captain.

  It was ominous; Elders warned Dante that the wolves, moles, and slimes on the 22nd floor were too much trouble to deal with, and veterans told him to sneak through and bypass them rather than upset the ecosystem and lead to one group leveling up to dangerous, unmanageable levels. But the floor was hauntingly quiet. Even the air felt wrong; it was too still, too expectant, like the whole place was holding its breath.

  At the end of the tunnels, they saw the signs of a monumental battle; spikes and cave-ins had transformed the hallway into a deathtrap with a pit to the abyss. It was obvious that they had cleared the floor and would likely have moved on. He jumped into the pit of darkness and landed softly in floor 23's waiting room using his wind affinity to create an otherworldly flutter to land. He saw a familiar sapphire glow.

  "A registered teleportation circle..." Dante quickly ordered his subordinates via the system link. He instructed them to divide into groups of three and search floors one through 25, with one team checking each teleportal. "If I were a slave who wanted to accumulate power fast, I would be on the 30th floor." Dante stood on the glowing disc and selected floor 30 for his destination.

  When he arrived, he received two system quests, the first he had seen in his entire time in the forsaken caverns dungeon. The first quest was to track down a spy who had stolen a supply cache reserved for the dungeon team, and the second was to deal with a monster blitz. Something had collapsed the floor and let out the giant hornets from the 31st floor. Someone drew the Emperor's attention; he was issuing quests to dispatch the danger.

  "This 605 is crafty. The collapse must be a diversion. He snuck in, stole the supplies from under everyone's nose, and expected to escape. If I were him, I would teleport to another floor and leave the patrols to clean up the mess. I think I will wait right here." Dante cut his palm and began to draw magical runes on the ground. The blood soaked into the stone and disappeared, leaving only a faint magical hum near the surfaces he had drawn on.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  **Dane, A trail on the 30th floor

  Dane had waited longer than he wanted to for the Elf; he had almost thought she somehow freed herself from his servitude. But the flashing icon in his system menu showed that he still had two bound to him. He wanted to flee; the buzzing was growing louder, and while he had never been scared of bees when he was a child, he shuddered to think what mana had probably done to the insects.

  It was hard for Dane to accept that he was a slaver now. He grew up in the South, and Slavery was one of those topics that made everybody uncomfortable. He still remembered the look his mother shot his aunt Zee when she said, "Granddaddy said we were nice to our slaves." In a matter-of-fact way. It still didn't sit well with him, and he wondered if it would have been kinder just to kill the Elf girl.

  "Dane, I think I see her over there," Ada said, pointing in the direction Amelia had left earlier that day.

  "Here is your stuff, master," Amelia said in a submissive tone that made Dane sick with the reality of what he had done. He told himself that binding the Elf was mercy. That death would've been worse. But now, watching her kneel, he wasn't so sure. Was being bound to him a better fate? He commanded her to commit treason; even under duress, the penalty was still death. He had killed her either way. What did it matter if he wasn't dealing the finishing blow?

  In that moment, with his morals in question and the guilt weighing heavily on him, Dane decided he wouldn't use Exodus to bind anyone else to him.

  It was the easiest way to get supplies, but he still took someone else's free will. Dane wasn't raised to take the easy route, but more and more, he was giving away pieces of himself to survive. If he was going to make a better society for his people, did it need to be at the expense of others? Dane let go of the grasp on the Elf's speech. He decided that he couldn't go back and change his decision, but he could make rules to keep him from falling into corruption.

  He would only order Amelia if she ended up in a situation that would lead to her death. That was the only exception, the three rules he came up with were. No forced obedience. No silenced voices. No orders he wouldn't follow himself. If Amelia decided to go home to the Empire, he would trade her for an earthbound as soon as he established his foothold outside the dungeon.

  "What the fuck is wrong with you insulant earthbound, my father is going to kill you and level your pathetic home." Amelia spat out like venom. Surprised that she was no longer censored.

  "Well, I understand that you are frustrated. After all, until recently, I was in your shoes," Dane said, taking over the flow of conversation like a practiced politician. "I have bound you, but I do not want your servitude outside of this place. I chose not to kill you because I thought at the time that it would be easier to have someone who had access to key areas to gather supplies. I have been debating what to do when you returned. So I will give you the choice that I took away. You can choose to die right now, and I will grant you a swift death. One fitting of the Empire, your body will be burned in the way of your people. Or you can choose to come with me and Ada, and clear this dungeon."

  "So my options are death by you or death by treason?" There was no question that the man in front of her was crazy; he was telling her that he was going to let her go after the dungeon. This was a common tactic that the Empire had used with the war slaves. You will be rewarded with your freedom if you do enough for me. Only one in a thousand bought their freedom, which was only allowed because they needed an example to strive for. She couldn't put her finger on it, but the feeling she got from the man in front of her seemed earnest. She wanted to believe that he was being honest. "How do I know that you will keep your word?"

  "I vow to the Emperor that I will let you go and not enforce your binding after the dungeon. You will remain bound to me until you can gain a noble title or kill me. But you will be a slave in name only." The words held a power that made a shiver go up her spine. She looked at her notifications and saw that she had a new one.

  Do you wish to accept Baron Danes' oath? (Y/N) Caution: This will be a contractual oath that the system will enforce upon completing the terms.

  "I accept." She said in a calm manner that was uncharacteristic of the Elf. It was odd that this man, Dane, told her everything she needed to free herself, but she couldn't bring herself even to imagine harming him. Was he using the binding to influence her mind? Or was this something she hadn't felt in a long time? Admiration.

  He put his hand out towards the beautiful woman. She looked confused, unfamiliar with the Earth gesture. "You grab my hand with yours, squeeze, and move your hand up and down. It's how we make a deal here in this world."

  "I have already accepted in front of the emperor, and your backwater planet's customs are not required." She said it in a matter-of-fact way, which pissed off both of the earthbound.

  "Have it your way," Dane said, wiping his hand on his pants to dry his sweaty palm.