The princess's magic shield would have protected her from the worst of Fizzlepuff's shotgun blast, if she'd only thought to activate it. The shotgun pellets tore into her chest and belly, doing a lot of damage. She vanished.

  At the same time, Pufflepop raised her legendary-grade pistol with both hands, pointed it at Soppett's head, and fired. The saurian rogue literally died laughing as her bullet blew his skull apart.

  The other two gnomes did the same, firing at their targets at close range, doing a lot of damage.

  “The truth is, we joined the goblins willingly!” Fizzlepuff shouted amid the sound of gunfire. “Their god is our god! Their war is our war! And my goblin name is Bork!”

  The six goblins dropped to the ground, turning their guns so the barrels faced their enemies, and opened fire, showering the two golems and surviving saurians with bullets.

  The golems fell apart, turning into piles of sand. The prince's armor saved his life, but the bullets dented his armor and drove him backward.

  After a quick search, Flint spotted the princess behind some stones, near a safe room where she'd teleported to escape the gunfire. The shotgun had destroyed her chest and belly to the extent that she could barely move. She held a gold healing potion with shaking hands. Flint kicked the potion as hard as he could, sending it flying. She crawled after it. Flint kicked the potion again, keeping it out of her reach. She collapsed face-first into the sand. Flint watched, making sure she didn't wake up. This is how you kill, Jeremy, he thought as he watched the princess breathe her last. He felt no particular hatred for her. That she was an evil being didn't bother him. She was simply one of the many obstacles keeping him from leaving this horrible dungeon.

  ***

  Jeremy stared at Tossi's unconscious form, hearing the thunder of gunfire nearby.

  Jeremy was in so much pain that he could barely see. It would be easy to kill Tossi. The saurian had been decent enough, but he was still an enemy planning to invade his world. The experience and loot would be helpful too. He had plenty of reason.

  But he couldn't do it. He wondered if Flint was right. Should he drop his quest for vengeance and leave the dungeon?

  He felt Squeak's excitement as the burning tent lost its protection spells, allowing it to burrow through the last of the sand, grab Jeremy's supplies, and pull them underground.

  Tossi vanished.

  For a second, Jeremy thought he was hallucinating. He looked again; Tossi was gone. The gunfire stopped. He heard goblins shouting.

  Flint appeared next to him. “The few surviving saurians vanished, along with their tent and supplies. I suspect Boggan saw the saurians fighting goblins, again, and decided they'd outstayed their welcome on the fourth floor.”

  Jeremy groaned. “So they're on the fifth floor. Good.”

  He hurt more than ever, and his Trauma Immunity was maxed. Without the saurians' presence, the dying Nashul was inflicting unimaginable pain, and it was only a question of which of them died first.

  “It would seem the goblins and gnomes have joined forces,” Flint continued. “If I hadn't seen it myself, I'd have never believed it. Perhaps they would help you.”

  “No,” Jeremy gasped, then started crawling. The thought of meeting two groups of adventurers who had attempted to kill him in the past didn't appeal to him. Especially since the goblins and gnomes had gotten their act together, he wondered where they'd obtained the guns. He knew the gnomes didn't have them before he left the third floor.

  With his extensive knowledge of this part of the dungeon, he was able to crawl to a small cave that provided shelter from the suns, and that the goblin/gnome party was unlikely to find.

  He collapsed.

  An unknown amount of time later, Squeak brought his supplies. He didn't feel like eating or drinking, but he forced himself to do so, fighting to keep it down; he needed his strength.

  Despite the pain Nashul put him through, he couldn't help feeling sorry for it. It wasn't evil, just a stupid being, in pain and acting on instinct.

  He heard monsters and gunfire. With the eviction of the saurians, the dungeon monsters re-spawned, and the goblin/gnome party became busy.

  After what felt like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a few days, Nashul died, merging with Jeremy's body. He checked his stat sheet.

  Name: Jeremy Wilkins

  Race: Other

  Sex: Boy

  Age: 12

  Character Class: Child-Rogue

  Level: 23

  Health: 12

  Mana: 14 (+29 rapid recovery) (Phoenix Heart)

  Attributes:

  Strength: 12

  Endurance: 5

  Vitality: 7 (+1 rat pendant)

  Dexterity: 27

  Agility: 28

  Perception: 34

  Intelligence: 9

  Wisdom: 6 (+1 ring of wisdom)

  Will Power: 21

  Charisma: 4 (+1 clown nose)

  Extra point:1

  Active Skills:

  Identify: 5

  Sneak: 8 (+2 magic shoes)(+1 camouflage ring)

  Detect Danger: 1

  Charmed Object Activation: 3

  Electric Attack: 5

  Swarm Master:

  Passive Skills:

  Enhanced Physical: 3

  Poison Immunity: 2

  Trauma Immunity: 3 (max)

  Acid Resistance: 3

  Electric Resistance: 6

  Bite Resistance: 6 (max)

  Physical Shock Resistance: 1

  Parasite Resistance: 10

  Curse Resistance: 4

  Mental Resistance: 6

  Water Breathing: 2

  Insect Pacifier: 1

  Iron Sight:

  Heat Resistance: 4

  Skills:

  Melee Weapons: 5

  Archery: 4

  Knife Throwing: 3

  Acting: 4

  Craftsman: 1

  Spells:

  Crude Heat Spell

  Crude Light Spell

  Summon Familiar

  Divine Rage

  Dungeon Account:

  20,117.65dc

  6 Dungeon Stars

  Titles:

  Slayer of Kritchek the Mighty Rat King!

  Big Slayer!

  Slayer of the Mighty Uinguit!

  Slayer of the Swarm Queen.

  Friend of the Community!

  Marks:

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Bank-robber!

  Politician Hater!

  Gifts and Blessings:

  Blessing of the Spider Queen.

  The god Arkys blesses your quest for vengeance.

  Blessing of the Mighty Uinguit.

  Blessing of the Swarm Queen.

  Gift of the Pissernak.

  Merged with the greater parasite, Nashul: Increased parasite resistance.

  Most of the changes he'd expected. His Trauma Resistance had evolved into Trauma Immunity and was maxed. His trials with Nashul had reduced his physical stats. He hoped these would recover with proper diet and exercise. His trials with Nashul, and perhaps his increase in Will, had slightly raised his mana. And he'd somehow merged with Nashul, increasing his parasite resistance.

  “I gained another level? How did that happen?”

  “That's a good question, Jeremy. Where could that experience have come from?” Flint asked sarcastically.

  Jeremy sighed. “We somehow aided the goblin/gnome party enough to gain experience?”

  “I assisted in killing the princess. Thanks to my noncorporeal nature, I do not gain experience from the kill, but you do, as unfair as that would seem. The experience must have pushed you over to the next level. I sent Squeak for her dungeon effects box, but the goblins found it first.”

  “I see.”

  “Considering your unwillingness to kill, perhaps you should rethink your revenge quest.”

  “Shut up, Flint.” But he wasn't sure Flint was wrong.

  There was a short period of silence. Jeremy sniffed. “I smell cooking meat. I wonder what saurian steak tastes like.”

  “You could always go ask.”

  “That's okay. I did tell the goblins they could eat any evil adventurers they killed, and the saurians are the second most evil beings I've met in this dungeon.”

  For the next several days, Jeremy lay on his dungeon cloak, moving only to eat, drink, or pour water on himself. Neither Flint nor Squeak could convince him to get up. He couldn't bring himself to move. The gnome/goblin adventurer team's guns were so loud that he could always tell where they were. And they never even came close to his cave. The unending heat gave him another point in heat resistance.

  And then there was silence.

  The adventurers had moved on.

  He still couldn't bring himself to move.

  A few days later, all the suns set at the same time, giving them a few minutes of night. It was only then that Jeremy dragged himself out of his cave to look at the sky. Like before, all the stars moved, except the stationary one. What did it mean? He wished he knew. The saurians had forced him to go over every bit of this section of the dungeon, and he had no idea where this treasure was. Would Boggan have given them all those extra days to search for a treasure that didn't exist?

  Maybe.

  He heard a faint sound in the distance. The monsters had respawned. He supposed he'd better get up and take a look.

  ***

  Jeremy pulled out his water bottle and took a long drink. Then, he poured water over his head and body. This helped a little with the heat. That and his heat resistance had gone up to 5.

  A four-eyed scorpion monster the size of a pony emerged from the desert, its coloration such that without his high perception, he'd have had trouble seeing it at a distance.

  He tried his Swarm Master skill.

  Apparently, monster scorpions weren't insects or controllable, and his skill did nothing.

  “The scorpions on this floor are quick, heavily armored, and have a deadly sting,” Flint said.

  “Thanks. I'd never have suspected.” Jeremy pulled out his bow and arrows.

  “That's why I'm here.”

  To his surprise, the first arrow glanced off its exoskeleton. He waited until it was closer before firing again. The second arrow struck its charging body, but didn't seem to slow it down. A third arrow went into its head, stopping its charge and dropping it less than five paces from Jeremy.

  Three more scorpions emerged from the desert.

  He fired ten more arrows, bringing down three more scorpions.

  Five more scorpions appeared. Jeremy backed up, jumping onto a boulder. He had twenty arrows with him, and he'd just used ten.

  The scorpions charged up the boulder, showing impressive climbing abilities. He fired quickly, hitting one at point-blank range, killing it, while getting stung by another as he turned and ran away, jumping off the boulder and dodging between two others. Thanks to the heavy scorpion armor, he was limited in the ways he could kill them. By the time he'd run out of arrows, he was down to two scorpions, one of which was wounded. He charged the unwounded one, dodged its mandibles and stinger, stabbed its eye with his sword, and released the electric energy that had been building in him for weeks. The monster scorpion stiffened, twitching uncontrollably, steam rising from it. He dodged the second wounded scorpion's mandibles and grabbed the arrow sticking out of it. After running far enough away, he drew his bow and put the arrow through its head.

  The desert became peaceful again.

  “At least these monsters are decent-sized,” Jeremy said between breaths, exhausted by the battle. “I won't miss the little monsters on the third floor.”

  “I realize I'm wasting my noncorporeal breath,” Flint said, “but it's clear the scorpions are more attracted to stationary adventurers. If you were to move quickly through this section, you could avoid most of them and leave.”

  Jeremy quickly recovered his arrows before more scorpions showed up. To his annoyance, he'd received several scorpion steaks, but no healing potions. “What do you know about the fourth floor of the dungeon? Do you know anything about the treasure?”

  “According to the dungeon, the treasure exists in this part of the dungeon and is waiting for one who is worthy. What this insane dungeon means by that, I wouldn't know.”

  “Squeak,” Squeak said mournfully, not happy with the multiple suns. Jeremy's familiar could survive the blazing suns, but wasn't happy about it. “Squeak?” question.

  “Oh. Sure, sorry.” Feeling bad that he hadn't thought of it before, he pulled out his dungeon cloak and tossed it on the ground.

  “Squeak!” Thank you. The cloak followed behind Jeremy and Flint as Squeak used it to shelter from the hot suns.

  More scorpions appeared. Jeremy killed them with his bow and arrows, retrieving his arrows between attacks.

  The wind picked up. A hot wind blew dirt and sand around, so it was hard to see more than a few paces in front of them. Sand got everywhere: in his eyes, under his clothes, between his teeth. Everywhere.

  Five healing potions, 223 dungeon coin, and five more scorpion steaks later, the red path led to a dark magical barrier. Unlike the previous floors, the fourth floor had two sections. All he knew from the saurians was the next section was an unpleasant place and held nothing of interest.

  “Any chance the next section is cooler?” Jeremy asked, poking his sword through the barrier. His sword met no resistance.

  “There is only one way to find out,” Flint responded.

  Jeremy poked the barrier with his hand, felt nothing, then, nervous, stepped through.

  It was cooler.

  “You've got to be kidding.”

  It was freezing, but not freezing like winter at home. No, this section was really, really cold. Jeremy wrapped himself in his dungeon cloak, which, thanks to the lack of sun, Squeak no longer needed for protection.

  “Why does it have to be cold?” Jeremy grumbled. No wonder the saurians hated this section. They were obviously a warm-weather species.

  “You are aware you could be at home drinking hot chocolate with your mother?”

  “Hmmph.” Jeremy pulled out Book. “Book. Back on the second floor, you said something about ice dungeons. Do you remember what it was?”

  Book vibrated with excitement.

  When Beeg Dumi entered the ice dungeon, he wore a warm cloak and never ventured far from his magic heater.

  Smirt Giy, on the other hand, wore as little as he could and soon gained a passive cold resistance skill.

  When the ice dragon attacked the two adventurers, Smirt Giy survived the dragon's ice breath attack, while Beeg Dumi was frozen solid, died, and was miserable.

  The passage concluded with the picture of a very miserable-looking ice statue.

  “That's what I thought,” Jeremy said, closing Book. “But why does it have to be so cold? I hate the cold.”