What the hell was that? Thought the Guild official as he stared into the dungeon gate that Dean Thompson had just disappeared into. Did he just.. smile? Who smiles walking into a situation like that?

  He shook his head, sliding his pen into the top of his clipboard. This new generation of trainees was something else.

  “A half-elf and a classless?” he muttered, adjusting the color of his robes. “I suppose they let just anybody in these days.”

  He sighed, tapping his clipboard as he scanned the names. There were promising candidates here, names he’d have recognized anywhere. And one in particular…

  He shook his head. It wasn’t worth thinking about now. He had a job to do after all, and if he wanted any chance at retiring from this damned job, then he knew he could account for no mistakes.

  Gods damned middle management. Garbage pay and long hours, and for what? A mediocre pension?

  A rustle in the bushes opposite him made him spin. He had no mana sense, and as an administrative class, he had nothing to defend himself either. If a beast or a monster had roamed this far..

  “Relax,” said a feminine voice from beside him. The Guild official jumped so violently that he nearly lost hold of his clipboard.

  “Oh, for fucks sake,” he said, his heart thundering in his chest as he adjusted his robes. “When will you people learn to stop sneaking up on others?”

  The woman raised an eyebrow barely visible under the dark hood of her cloak.

  “You people?”

  The administrator swallowed, his eyes sliding to the knives she wore in a leather strap around her waist.

  “I only meant,” he said hastily. “Rogue types. You know, those who are adept at stealth and secrecy.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed with amusement, and the official breathed a sigh of relief. She was not the type of person he’d want to piss off.

  “I can only assume you weren’t followed.”

  “Of course. I’m not an amateur, you know.”

  The official nodded, licking his lips. This was the point of no return. If he went through with this, if he allowed it to happen under his watch, then there was no going back. For a moment, he hesitated, his mind flashing through all the potential consequences. A disciplinary hearing, dismissal, or maybe even jail time. He knew the consequences and yet…

  “Fine,” he snapped, drawing himself up to his full height. The effect was only somewhat ruined by the fact that he was, by most standards, quite short. “And did you bring what I asked you to?”

  The woman smirked.

  “I have everything I need to ensure a clean and traceless job.”

  The official narrowed his eyes.

  “You are to incapacitate him and leave his unconscious body in a safe location for the duration of the exam. That is what you were told, was it not?”

  The rogue laughed, flipping her hair.

  “And what difference does it make where I leave the body? If I play my cards right, monsters will take care of it for me, and no disposal will be required.”

  The official’s heart was hammering again, and he cursed himself for not taking the blood pressure tea his wife had brewed him the morning before.

  “No, no, no,” he snapped, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “I made it explicitly clear to young Master Cole that it was paramount to leave Mr. Thompson unharmed. The goal is to subdue him for the duration of the two-hour exam so that he is disqualified. There was no mention of.. of this.”

  The rogue rolled her eyes, but he continued despite her.

  “Listen, things aren’t that simple. The body recovery team is comprised of experienced Adventurers, ones who aren’t easily fooled by tricks. If there was a body for them to recover, then there's a chance foul play might be discovered. Do you want to be the one to explain to Maxim Cole why the board is launching an investigation?”

  The rogue hesitated, her smile sliding away for a moment. Then she let out a heavy sigh.

  “Fine,” she said, reaching into her inventory. “Have it your way. I’ll incapacitate him and then exit back through the way I came. I expect you’ll be here when I emerge?”

  The official nodded, his shoulders sagging in relief as the woman withdrew a bulging coin purse. She tossed it to him, and he almost laughed out loud when the weight of it hit his hands. Slowly, he undid the knot. Stamped silver gleamed in the sunlight. This was it, more money than he’d ever thought he’d hold in his lifetime.

  “Maxim Cole thanks you for your contribution,” said the Rogue cooly. “Enjoy your retirement.”

  She moved towards the gate, and the official had to tear his eyes away from the twinkle of silver.”

  “W-wait!” he stammered as he fumbled in his pockets. The rogue paused, her face flashing with annoyance.

  “You’ll need this.” He pulled a crumpled piece of parchment and handed it to her, watching carefully as she unfurled it.

  “It’s a map,” he said, pointing to the X. “ This is the inside of the dungeon and the areas where you have a chance to spawn. It varies depending on timing, but it should be here,” he pointed to one X. “Or here. Keep in mind I’ve marked the areas where the proctors will be monitoring. Avoid them, or there will be trouble.”

  The rogue glanced over the map for a moment, then her lips quirked upwards.

  “Useful after all. I’ll see you in a bit, administrator. Don’t hold your breath.”

  And just like that, she was gone, vanishing into the dungeon. She was clearly a newly minted iron ranker – her badge was fresh off the metal press. But an iron ranker would be more than enough to take care of a classless trainee.

  The official weighed the silver in his hand, hearing the coins clink within the bag. Then he stowed it in his inventory. It wouldn’t do for any of the other guild staff to see him holding that amount of money.

  “Subtly,” he whispered to himself. “That’s the key. I only have one more task and then my job here is done.”

  He could wash his hands of the Guilds, of administrative work, and the slog of middle management. Finally, he could have a chance to start over. Sure, the kid would be disappointed when he failed the exam, but not everybody was cut out to be an Adventurer. He hadn’t really done anything wrong, had he? After all, the kid might have died on his first mission for all he knew. Maybe in a way, he was doing the boy a kindness.

  “It’s just business,” he muttered as he twisted his hands. “Just… business.”

  ***

  The glow of the gate disappeared the moment Dean entered the dungeon. Unfortunately, so did his only source of light. His heart skipped a beat as he fumbled in his pack, fingers bumping against his potions until.. there.

  He pulled the crystal free of his pack, holding it up until it illuminated his surroundings in a soft white glow. He was in a cave roughly the size of a large hallway. There were stalactites hanging from the ceiling, and when he raised his light higher, they seemed to glimmer with dampness.

  Dean took a step forward, and his boot sank about an inch into a carpet of soft moss. Interesting. Volume 2 of Monster Hunting Basics and Their Principles had touched on the fact that dungeons’ spawning was seemingly random, and not all inner workings of a dungeon reflected the biome in which they had spawned.

  Dean moved forward, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. Judging by the smell of dampness and the visible humidity, this dungeon likely had a water source. If that were the case, the types of mobs and monsters it could house would be diverse.

  The first thing I need to do is determine what kind of dungeon I’m dealing with. From that point on it’s all about finding the others and then the boss.

  Dean knew his two hours had started. He couldn’t afford to waste time. Kept his sword loose in it’s sheath, ready to react at a moment's notice. The moss along the cave floor cushioned his steps but he still winced every time the rustle of his clothes or jingle of his pack echoed.

  He had taken precautions to muffle his potions at least, but there were certain monsters who could pick out even the smallest of sounds. Up ahead, the cave mouth narrowed, splitting off and two directions. One sloped downwards, the smell of damp becoming more intense. The other curved around a corner, disappearing from sight. Dean glanced between the two. With the exam having just begun, he had time to explore, but he knew he should limit his exploration to strictly intel. The more information he could gather about the dungeon, the better his party's position would be once they reunited.

  He continued down the curving path, careful to avoid stepping where the moss didn’t extend. As he approached the bend in the cave, he moved close to the wall. If there was something nearby, he should be able to… Dean’s mana sense tingled, and he focused, letting his magic awareness spread from him like a blanket. He could feel something pulsing nearby, but the essence signature was so faint it was hard to make out.

  Whatever it was, he could only sense two of them. Dean was about to poke his head out from cover to look when he heard a sound. It was the last thing he expected to hear. A voice. It was low and gravely, grunting in some strange foreign language.

  Dean didn’t need to understand the meaning of the words to know what he was dealing with. Quickly, he squeezed the crystal, letting the light in his palm dim considerably. Then he poked his head around the corner.

  Two kobolds stood with their backs to him, their dark blue scaly hides glinting in the light of their own torches. They were small and scrawny, no taller than a young teenage human. Each one carried a spear and a small buckler shield, and despite their size, Dean knew they weren’t a threat to take for granted. He focused on them with his mana sense, and moments later, a small black box popped into view.

  Monster Class: Kobold

  Race: Reptilian (sentient)

  Tier: Minor

  They weren’t wearing any armor, and though their scaly hides were resilient to some forms of damage, his sword would be enough to cut them.

  The element of surprise should be enough.

  Dean unbuckled his pack, laying it down as softly as he could in a patch of overgrown moss. Then, slowly and carefully, he drew his sword. He would need to be quick. He could take on a single kobold and win without much issue, but a second could be a problem, especially in a tight space.

  Well, he thought at he glanced around at the empty cave. I hope the guilds are watching this.

  He slipped out of cover and ran forward, careful to keep his steps soft. The Kobolds were facing away from him, and neither seemed to notice his presence. If he moved fast enough, he might be able to-

  The toe of Dean’s boot struck a loose stone, and it skittered across the cave floor to the wall. One of the Kobolds turned its head. Its long pupiled eye focused on him, and its scaly lid drew back in surprise. There wasn’t time for hesitation.

  Dean focused his attack on the Kobold who had noticed him, driving his sword up and through the creature's eye. His blade encountered minor resistance, but the force of Dean’s strike sent his sword ramming out the back of the creature's skull with a loud wet squelch. The Kobold jerked and then went Limp.

  The sudden dead weight pulled at Dean’s sword arm, and he was forced to place a boot on the creature to pull the blade free. The second Kobold took that time to recover from its shock. Backing away, it raised its buckler, grunting something in a language Dean couldn’t understand.

  He ripped the sword free and spun in time to see the Kobold preparing a thrust with its spear.

  Oh no you don’t.

  He stepped forward, taking up his sword in both hands and sweeping it downwards towards the Kobold's shoulder. The creature was forced to halt its strike, raising its shield instead in an attempt to deflect the blow. The sound of metal on metal reverberated through the cave as the creature attempted to ward off his strikes. Dean didn’t give it time to recover, instead pressing his advantage of size and strength as he pushed it back against the wall.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Oota!” the Kobold shouted, bearing its pointed teeth at him. It tried to stab at him with the spear but the movement was rushed and clumsy. Dean brought the flat of his blade down on the wooden shaft, and the rough wood snapped in two.

  The creature squawked in panic, but it was already too late. Dean’s sword drove deep into its chest and pierced it through. The Kobold slumped to the ground, its buckler falling to the floor with a muffled clatter.

  Dean flicked the blood from his blade. There might have been a time when taking the life of a sentient monster had concerned him, but those days had long passed. Monsters, he’d learned, are vicious creatures. They’ll attack and kill humans without a second thought, and being killed by a monster was about the best-case scenario.

  There were some monsters that were known to keep their prey, and he’d heard enough horror stories to know that was the worst of the two fates.

  “Let’s see.”

  Dean knelt beside the Kobolds, looking them over for anything of use. The proctors had said they couldn’t bring anything unsanctioned into the exam, but they hadn’t said anything at all about looting while in the dungeon.

  The spears were crude and likely not worth much, but one of the bucklers at least was made of iron. Dean turned it over, examining it for any sign of wear. When he was satisfied with the condition, he stowed it in his inventory and snatched up one of the torches that had fallen. It would be less conspicuous than a crystal, especially if all the Kobolds were already carrying torches. That at least made things simple.

  Next, he grabbed the bodies of the kobolds by the feet and dragged them into a nearby alcove out of sight. Experience had taught him that when there was one Kobold, there were usually more lurking around. It would be better not to alert a patrol of his presence if he could help it.

  The torch made visibility in the cave much better. Dean was able to move more quickly, spreading his mana sense ahead of him like a blanket over the ground. It wasn’t until he saw a glimmer of light in the distance that he felt it. Several essence signatures bobbed in range of his senses but one of them was much brighter than the others.

  That’s…

  A cry echoed through the cavern, the voice high and feminine. Shae! Cursing Dean turned and sprinted forward, his sword raised as he followed the sound. One of the four essence signatures had winked out, but the strong one, the human one, still remained.

  Dean’s boots were no longer silent, but he knew it was pointless now. Whatever was lurking in the nearby caves would have heard Shae’s scream. It was only a matter of time before they came to investigate. He rounded the corner, and the source of the dim light became visible. Murshooms, and no ordinary mushrooms. These small green caps emanated a glowing light that filled the hall before him. By their glow, Dean could see shadows cast on the cave wall.

  From those shadows a creature rose. It moved with surprising speed for a creature its size, propelled by hundreds of tiny legs.

  Monster Class: Giant Centipede

  Race: Insectoid

  Tier: Minor

  A woman was lying on the ground, one hand thrown over her face. Still, Dean could tell that whoever she was, she wasn’t his friend. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not he should interfere.

  After all, she is my competition.

  Then he saw the blood. The gash on her thigh was deep, and she appeared to have lost several of her weapons. In her hand was a small knife, the blade no longer than six inches. The Centipede coiled back on itself, opening its jaws as it reared back. It descended on her in a rattling of armored chitin and legs. The rogue woman was fast, shoving herself out of the way and backing towards the wall.

  Still, she was moving too slowly.

  That wound on her leg must be worse than it looks. A rogue who can’t use speed and agility is..

  An image of the rogue saint flashed in his mind, and Dean gritted his teeth. Competition or not, he couldn’t just leave her to die.

  “Lookout!” he said, resuming his forward momentum. “Centipedes have sharp pincers on their tails, don’t let it hit you!”

  The Rogue’s head snapped towards him, her eyes growing wide. Then his words seemed to hit home. She reacted quickly, diving sideways and narrowly avoiding the two shiny black pincers that snapped in the air moments from where she had been. She let out a loud, echoing curse, slashing her knife at the creature's body as she passed. The blade bounced harmlessly off the chitin armor.

  “It’s too thick!” called Dean. “You have to attack it at the joints!”

  The woman gave him a harassed look.

  “If it’s so easy, then why don’t you give it a try?”

  Dean didn’t bother to answer. Stowing the torch in his inventory with a flourish, he took up his broadsword in both hands, moving towards the monster even as it turned. It’s deep, beady eyes fixed on him, and it spun across the wall, redirecting its attack arc back towards him.

  Dean took in every detail as he ran. The body coiling in on itself as the creature rushed towards him. Its head reared back, insectoid jaws opening as it lunged. Its beady eyes were blood colored, and Dean could see the shadow of himself reflected there as he charged the creature.

  “Are you insane?” shouted the Rogue. “Move out of the way, that thing is too big for-“

  The centipede was inches away when Dean moved. He maintained his movement, dodging hard right as it lunged at him with powerful snapping jaws. He spun, gripping the hilt in both hands as he redirected the power of his momentum into a single downward swing.

  Long ago, Dean had seen a famous elvish swordsman fight a duel to the death. The elf’s skills were legendary, so fluid and graceful that his form looked almost like dancing. Dean’s sword form was nothing like that legendary master of the blade, but what he lacked in fluidity, he made up for in raw power.

  His blade whistled through the air, urged on by his maxed strength stat and newly formed muscle. It was enough. The blade slammed into the meat of the centipede between two pieces of armor. Green insect blood sprayed across the cave wall as it was cleaved in two. The creature let out a shriek, twisting and writhing as its wound fountained blood.

  Dean managed to dodge a writhing coil but failed to see the second. A force like a hammer blow drove into him, knocking him up and off his feet. He slammed into the wall, only barely managing to keep a grip on his sword.

  The body was in its death throes, but Dean knew it wouldn’t last long. The real danger now wasn’t the body itself but the…Dean froze as he scanned the cave around him.

  Where was the head?

  A sound above him made Dean look up. The Centipede clung to the cave wall ahead of him, its body reduced to a mere four feet. Its fanged pincers dripped with Green blood, but those red eyes were fixed on Dean. It let out a piercing shriek that vibrated his ears and made his head ache. Dean threw himself sideways as the creature dropped down on him. Its injured body made a wet smack as it hit the cave floor, but dying didn’t seem to deter the damn thing.

  It began crawling towards him, shimmying like some sort of grotesque maggot.

  A blade sprouted from its head. It was small, but the metal gleamed in the strange green light of the mushrooms. The dagger sank deep into the creature's brain and twisted.

  “I hate bugs,” said the Rogue as she yanked her knife free from the now limp head. She flicked the green blood from her knife and sheathed it with a practiced flourish.

  “Thanks for that, by the way. Damn thing snuck up on me while I was doing recon and caught me off guard. I don’t like to think what would have happened if you hadn’t come around.”

  Dean straightened and lowered his sword. The rogue was small, wearing a dark hooded cloak and dyed leather armor. At her waist was a sheath of knives, several of which were missing. As he watched, she shifted, twisting her injured leg. She cried out, and Dean stepped forward to stabilize her.

  “Sorry,” she breathed, her hand lingering on his chest. “I just… that caught me off guard is all.” She straightened abruptly, using a hand on the wall as support.

  “You going to do something about that?” he asked, gesturing to her wound with his sword. The rogue only smirked, tucking her hair back under her hood.

  “It’ll be fine. A simple bandage would be enough to stem the blood flow. It would be a problem if we were stuck in here all day, but the exam only lasts two hours.”

  She rummaged in her pack for a moment before producing a roll of bandages, which she quickly used to wrap her leg. Dean turned to leave.

  “Wait,” the Rogue sounded hesitant, and Dean paused, turning his head.

  “You’re Thompson, right? The classless from the training hall.”

  Dean nodded, and the rogue laughed.

  “So it’s really true,” she said, using one of her smaller knives to cut the bandage roll. “Your strength isn’t just an exaggerated rumor. You’re fairly competent for someone who hasn’t been professionally trained.”

  “Who said I wasn’t trained?”

  Surprise flitted across the rogue’s face, and he saw her eyes narrow slightly before she smiled.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just that trainers are usually reserved for combat classes or families of Adventurers. Their hourly rates aren’t exactly affordable for your typical lower city teenager.”

  Dean didn’t smile back.

  “If that’s all, then I’m leaving. The clock is running down, and I have a boss to kill.”

  “So confident. Tell me, have you considered the fact that we might work better as a team?”

  Dean turned.

  “We aren’t a team. You’re the competition.”

  “Sheesh talk about cold.” She was following after him now as he strode back down the hall with his sword over his shoulder. Though her gait was a little uneven, she was still fast.

  Stupid Rogues.

  “Listen, genius, I know that we’re in competition. But I have something you might find useful. Information.”

  When Dean didn’t answer, she let out an irritated huff.

  “There are more than just centipedes in this dungeon, obviously. There are Kobolds for one and-“

  “I already know that,” he said, interrupting her. “I ran into them earlier.”

  “All seven of them?”

  That made him pause, and she took that opportunity to take up a spot beside him. He removed his torch from his inventory as the glow of the mushrooms faded, and the flame provided a modicum of warmth in the cold passageway.

  “I counted seven in total. Two are acting as guards, and the other five are located in a chamber off the main path. I saw two spears, two clubs, and an archer among them.”

  Dean grimaced. Killing five Kobolds at his current strength was already a stretch, but if they had an archer, it was an outright fool's errand.

  “Did the archer have the high ground?”

  The rogue smirked.

  “Interested in my information now, are you?”

  When Dean scowled, she rolled her eyes.

  “Fine, fine. I only got a brief glimpse of the room while I was running recon, but yes, the archer has a position at the back. It looked like some sort of raised platform, an old bridge maybe? Listen,” she grabbed at his arm, and Dean reluctantly came to a stop.

  “You’re talented, Thompson; everyone knows that. But I doubt even you could clear that room without help. Especially against a ranged opponent.”

  Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying to scrub away the irritation. Like it or not, there was truth to the rogue’s words. Right now, time was of the essence, and clearing that room might be their best chance at progressing through the dungeon. If he wanted to find the others, then moving toward the dungeon's center was likely his best bet.

  “Fine,” he said grudgingly. “We work together to clear the next room. After that, though, we’re on our own. That’s the point of this exam, and you’d be a fool to think we weren’t being watched.”

  The rogue’s face twitched for just a moment, and Dean wondered at it. Before he could ask her what the matter was, she’d turned away.

  “Good.” She said. “We’ll be more effective as a team. The room was down this way, follow me, but try to stay silent. If we alert them to any damage bonus, I get from stealth is negated.”

  Dean reluctantly nodded, and the two of them slowed their pace, creeping through the cavern ahead. They passed through the room where Dean had killed the kobold, and the rogue wrinkled her nose as they passed the corpses.

  “Do you always make such a mess when you kill?”

  Dean raised a brow.

  “Death is messy.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. You're just a brute that relies on pure strength rather than wit,” she winked at him as she stepped over the bodies. “Though I can’t say I blame you.”

  “Being strong doesn’t mean you lack wit.”

  She glanced at him, her eyes barely visible in the shadow of her hood.

  “I didn’t mean…”

  A sound from up ahead made them both pause, and Dean raised his sword automatically. The rogue drew a finger to her lips and gave him a questioning look. Without hesitating, Dean nodded. She was fast, even with an injured leg. She shuffled forward in a crouch, her boots silent on the cave floor. Up ahead, the sound came again.

  It was the same strange rumble of a language he’d heard before. An old and archaic tongue that seemed to pull at his memory even though he lacked understanding.

  Kobolds. The rogue moved ahead, clinging to the shadows of the cave as she moved towards the source of the light ahead. For the second time, Dean stowed away his torch to prevent giving himself away as he readied for battle. The floor sloped steeply upwards, and he had to mind his footing as he climbed the rocky floor after her.

  There was another sound ahead, a shout that seemed to echo through the cavern. Dean and his companion froze, eyes widening as they looked at each other. Had they been spotted? There was a long, tense moment where neither of them moved. Dean half expected to see the angry, scaled muzzle of a kobold appear at the top of the slope. But nothing happened.

  After a moment, the murmuring kobold language resumed.

  What was that? Mouthed the Rogue. Dean could only shake his head. Carefully, the two of them flattened themselves on their stomachs and began crawling forward. The stone was rough under Dean’s weight, and he had to shift to keep his armor from scraping on the rocks.

  The rogue laid a hand on his arm and gestured towards the top.

  Slow she mouthed, and only after Dean nodded did she release him. Reaching up, Dean pulled himself slowly upwards, perching so that he wouldn’t easily be visible if the enemy was facing in their direction. This room was larger than the others, with vaulted stone ceilings and what looked to be an elevated platform in the middle of the room.

  Not a platform, Dean realized. A bridge. And that bridge spanned the length of the room, ending at a pair of golden double doors. Dean’s heart leaped. Most dungeons had a boss room, and in order to clear it the dungeon must be defeated. One didn’t need to kill every roaming monster and beast, but leaving too many alive could result in the dungeon respawning over time.

  Dean clenched his fist. He’d need to kill the Kobolds and then..

  The rogue tensed beside him, and Dean refocused his attention on the room. There were indeed five kobolds present. Three stood at the edge of the room, facing towards its center. Another was positioned along the bridge, and Dean could make out the shape of a bow and quiver on its back. And the last.. the last was on the floor and it wasn’t alone.

  “What do you mean you lost them?” came the snarling growl. It was deep and echoing, and the rage contained within it was unmistakable. A Lizard creature stood over the fallen Kobold, its eyes emerald eyes gleaming with unconcealed malice. It too was scaled, but the stark difference between it and the kobolds was unmistakable. Its scales were harder, sharper, and in terms of size, it was easily four times that of a grown man. It wore spiked armor over its chest and shoulders, and its muscular arms flexed as it stalked towards its victim.

  The Kobold recoiled, trying to scramble away, but it was too slow.

  “I thought I made myself expressly clear,” growled the Lizard warrior. It lifted the kobold off the ground as if it were no more than a weightless doll.

  “Any humans that enter my dungeon are to be hunted to extinction. There are no exceptions, and I make no allowances for mistakes.”

  It yanked the Kobold forward, its black rimmed emerald eyes glittering.

  “Was I perhaps unclear in my instruction?”

  The Kobold made a whining sound, and Dean saw several of the others flinch. The Lizard creature leered a smile.

  “Good,” it purred. “Good. Then I expect the five of you to right this wrong. Any intruders are to be killed or captured. It has been a long while since I’ve feasted on the flesh of men; I’d almost forgotten the taste.”

  The Kobolds cowered and the lizard’s toothy smile only widened.

  “Not to worry, not to worry. I’ve never really enjoyed the taste of Kobold, you see. Nonetheless I must send a message.”

  It sighed, its eyelids clicking as it blinked slowly. A gesture that was strangely human. Then it acted.

  The movement was so fast that Dean almost missed it. The lizard twisted its muscular arm, and a sharp crack echoed off the walls. Moments later, the lifeless kobold fell to the ground, its neck broken.

  “Bring me their heads.” Said the creature, turning back towards the bridge. It took two loping steps forward, its thick, barbed tail slashing the air. Then, as Dean watched, it bent and leaped into the air. It cleared at least a dozen feet in the air, grabbing ahold of the stone wall of the bridge and hauling itself over. Dean saw two kobold spears waver, and moments later, the golden doors swung open to admit him.

  “What,” whispered the rogue, her voice less than a whisper. “Was that?”

  “The boss,” Dean replied grimly, staring after it. His mind was already racing with ideas of how to get to that bridge. But first, the task at hand.

  “Do you have any ranged attacks?”

  “What?” the rogue blinked. The scene before them had seemingly rattled her.

  “Ranged attacks,” repeated Dean, gesturing to the kobold archer now pacing the bridge.

  “We’ll have to take it out if we want to have any chance of killing the other four. If I charge, I can probably kill one before they’ve caught on to what’s happening. But by then, I’ll have to retreat if I don’t want to be surrounded.”

  The rogue scanned the room, biting at her lip. After a moment, she yanked down her hood, and Dean saw that her dark hair was cut to her neck.

  “I’ve got something, but it’s mid-range and I can only use it once.” She pointed at the bridge with one of her knives. “In order to get in range, I’ll need a distraction.” Her eyes swept over him, and she smirked.

  “Care to show me more of that strength?”

  Dean rose to a knee and gave the battlefield a quick glance. The boss had gone, retreating beyond those metal doors. But he wasn’t entirely sure if the monster would return if it heard the sound of a scuffle. Regardless, the exam clock was ticking, and he couldn’t exactly afford to sit around.

  “Alright,” he said. “But we’ll do it my way.”