With the pup hidden in my backpack, I advance down the dungeon corridor. I haven’t taken ten steps when one of those popup windows appears before me.

  Analyzing subject... Analyzing... Calibrating power levels...

  I stop, puzzled. The wolf pup, poking its head out from the top of the backpack’s pocket, barks.

  “Shhh,” I scold it.

  Last thing I need is to attract every living monster in the area.

  When it barks again, I take it into my arms. That calms it down.

  The screen keeps flashing with the same phrase—calibrating power levels—for almost a minute. Finally, it changes:

  Traveler from another world, select difficulty level.

  Available levels: hardworking, hard, insanity.

  Difficulty level determines reward level: generous, abundant, insane.

  “Great,” I whisper ironically instead of thinking to myself, since my voice seems to calm the pup, which has stopped barking. “No easy level or tutorial. Well, obviously the lowest difficulty, I’m not crazy. I’m not going to die here.”

  I stretch out my hand to select hardworking and hesitate at the last moment.

  Because… do I really have to select something?

  If I don’t, maybe I can just turn around and leave the way I came in. The other dungeon was for newbies, and I’m little more than a newbie in terms of level. Another thing entirely is the magic I possess. If this one has a much higher difficulty, I don’t think I can clear it even on hardworking.

  On the other hand, that whole calibrating thing—could it be that it analyzed me and that hardworking would actually present a challenge for me? That is, could it be one of those dungeons that adapts to the player’s level?

  Hmm…

  I don’t know what to do.

  If this were a game, I would’ve already picked hardworking. But if I die, nothing guarantees I’ll return to my body on Earth. This could be the end.

  Failing the academy exam wouldn’t be so terrible, right? A quiet noble life, and that’s it. I could look for other dungeons, ones whose level I knew, and keep leveling at my own pace. Maybe they’d even let me take the exam another year.

  Yeah… not choosing at all is starting to sound really tempting.

  I start withdrawing my hand when the wolf pup squirms in my other arm and launches itself at my forearm, making the hand near the popup window flail to the right—straight into insanity.

  Insanity level selected.

  What? Damn seed of evil pup, what have you done?

  I let out a couple of curses to vent. My heart’s racing. I feel afraid. Terrified.

  And yes, I know it’s “seed of darkness,” but as far as I’m concerned, it just earned the nickname “seed of evil.”

  “We’re dead,” I state the obvious out loud while looking at the little creature, which, with an innocent face, climbs onto my shoulder and crawls back into the backpack pocket I’m wearing.

  “Dead.”

  The dungeon rules are simple. Survive its three levels to obtain the reward. The dungeon can only be abandoned with a special return stone for this dungeon. Good luck.

  “Luck?” I snort.

  Not even with luck can I clear insanity level.

  Angry, I take off my backpack and hold it close to my face to glare at the black wolf pup’s head.

  “You pull something like this again and we’re done.”

  In response, it sticks out its tongue and licks my cheek.

  Well, no.

  Its adorable tricks aren’t going to soften me up this time. I really mean it. And that’s assuming a miracle happens and we survive.

  I put the backpack back on and, carefully trying not to make too much noise, sword in hand, advance down the corridor.

  As I walk slowly, I start hearing a sound ahead. A tapping. It gets louder and louder. I stop.

  I identify metallic noises, like metal hitting metal—and something hard. I look ahead. All I see are stone walls: not polished slabs, but irregular, rough blocks, as if they’d been carved straight out of rock with a pickaxe. Torches are set every so often, casting light.

  When whatever’s approaching enters one of the lit areas, I see it’s a skeleton. Its bones are held together by bluish magic instead of cartilage and tendons. I guess it’s magic, as it’s a glow of that color what seems to sustain the creature, allowing it to stand and move instead of being a pile of whitish bones. In its eye sockets burn two spheres of more intense blue, like flames that move but don’t crackle. It’s wearing pieces of metal armor that clank as it walks, hitting each other or the bones. In one hand it carries a rusted sword and in the other a small shield, a buckler, that it uses for cover.

  It approaches slowly.

  I have plenty of time to analyze it, and to my surprise, as I scrutinize it, letters appear above its head:

  Skeleton Warrior, Level 3.

  Looks like I can see enemy info now, like in video games. I wonder if that’s something specific to this dungeon or a new passive I unlocked. Either way, I really wish I had a mace. Against skeletons, blunt weapons are the best.

  Determined to use my sword like one, I take advantage of wearing leather gloves and grip the blade, letting me strike with the pommel or guard. I take a deep breath and run toward the creature.

  It fixes those malicious blue orbs on me and opens its jaw in a silent scream. It tries to block my strike to its head with the buckler, but it’s slow—very slow—slow enough that I can easily change trajectory and go for its rib cage instead.

  There’s a dry crack as steel hits bone. The ribs shatter into splinters. Like a proper undead, it ignores the damage and keeps fighting.

  I withdraw quickly to avoid a thrust at my side. As it lowers its guard, I strike its skull with the guard. It doesn’t break bone this time, but it clearly hurts—it freezes, stunned.

  I don’t hesitate. It doesn’t even cross my mind that this could be a trick.

  I beat it savagely until its skull bursts apart. Then the blue flames die out, and like a broken doll, its parts collapse to the floor.

  I crouch and pick up its shield. I don’t know how to use it properly, but it might help. I grab it with my left hand.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” I mutter.

  I instantly regret it.

  I hear the same sound the skeleton made before—only much louder.

  I ready myself.

  When they reach the light, I see there are four.

  I let out a curse that isn’t very ladylike and charge.

  I don’t want to use magic yet. I have few spells, and I’d rather save them for when I have no choice. So with sword and shield, I fight way closer than I’d like. They’re slow—very slow—and that’s my only advantage.

  I rush one, strike, retreat. I can’t let them surround me.

  It works, until fatigue and pain in my arms start catching up.

  I manage to destroy two skeletons and decide to stop sprinting and dodging. I’ve been out of breath for minutes now.

  I stop and wait.

  Let them come.

  I block a strike from the left with the buckler and deflect another from the right with my sword.

  This is insane. My shoulders and arms are screaming, and I have no idea how to fight properly. I’m running on instinct alone. I’m sure that if I could see myself from outside, I’d cringe at how uncoordinated I look.

  But they’re slow. And that saves me.

  I defeat them, but not without taking a cut to my side. It’s not deep. From my backpack, I take the bottle that smells like Earth cognac—brought exactly for this—and disinfect the wound.

  I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to scream. Then I bandage it.

  I check my character sheet. I’ve lost one health point.

  I’ll save healing as long as I can.

  The pup licks my face while I’m crouched. I sigh and brace myself, accepting what might come.

  This dungeon is nothing like the slime one. And if this is just the beginning, I’m more convinced than ever that I’ll either find the return stone… or die here.

  “And it’s all your fault,” I whisper to the little wolf.

  I stand up, sling the backpack over my shoulders, and keep moving, ignoring the pain in my side. I haven’t taken three steps when I stop again.

  “You’re an idiot,” I mutter, berating myself.

  I can’t just advance like this. What’s next? Eight skeletons? Sixteen? I couldn’t even handle four.

  I review my spells: minor fire bolt, minor splash, minor channeling, minor breath control—which isn’t very useful right now—and earth control, which with such a small volume doesn’t help much. Well, and minor healing.

  The fire bolt lacks magical penetration, so it will only damage a single target. I’d rather save it for a more powerful enemy, like the dungeon boss.

  The splash can hit multiple targets, but since it has a very short range, I’d better discard it. Channeling sounds great, to give more defense to my body or more damage to the sword. The problem is, it only lasts a minute.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Something occurs to me. It’s crazy, but it might work.

  I open my character sheet and, regretfully, choose the runner skill. It’s the one I’m least interested in but it raises my agility by one point and I’ll run faster. It pains me to spend the three free attribute points I was saving on agility. Then, I wait until I hear the skeleton footsteps again.

  This time there are seven.

  When they’re close, I run toward them with the buckler in front. I dodge those in the front line, slipping between them while silently thanking the corridor for being wide enough. The ones in the middle don’t react, and I also slip between two. However, one of the ones at the back ends up right in front of me, blocking my path.

  I push it with the shield and manage not to fall. I run, leaving them all behind. I don’t even turn around to see them pivot and come after me.

  Slowing my pace, I move forward and spot what look like small balconies carved into the stone walls ahead. I speed up—just in time, because several arrows whistle past me. They’re skeleton archers, also level 3. Worst of all, I’m closing in on another group of skeleton warriors.

  My strategy remains the same: dodge them. I just hope I don’t take an arrow while trying.

  Somehow—though I still don’t know how—I slip into the group of warriors, weaving between them. Once I’m mixed in with their ranks, the archers stop firing. With my heart pounding like mad and adrenaline masking my fatigue, I make it through.

  I don’t know how many there are, but definitely more than before. I pick up the pace. I don’t run in a straight line, because doing so would be asking for an arrow to the chest. I keep sprinting. After a hundred meters, there are no more archer skeletons. After two hundred, the path ends at a wall.

  I stop, exhausted, and tap the wall with my sword’s pommel. I still don’t know how to tell if a wall is solid or hollow. I close my eyes for a second—I don’t have time for this. Two waves of skeletons are coming after me; hopefully the archers are still up on their balconies.

  The first wave is almost here. I haven’t managed to reach the next level of the dungeon and leave the enemies behind. So much for rushing a dungeon. My other option—grouping them all together and using channeling—doesn’t seem realistic either. I’d have to go back through this group and take hits from all of them halfway, plus the archers would be shooting at me.

  I check my experience bar. Still need more to level up. Maybe I’ll get it with the first wave, but I’ve already learned the hard way that I don’t get my strength back or recover my mana when I do. I don’t heal either.

  Catching my breath as best I can while they approach, I launch a fire bolt at one of them just before they reach me The creature, slow to react, fails to dodge. A quick, small arrow flies from my fingers and hits its forehead bone. It sticks, and the creature bursts into magical flames. A few seconds later, it dies.

  Yes! They’re vulnerable to fire magic, just like in the otome.

  Without hesitation, I activate channeling.

  It costs me two mana points, leaving me with three. I enhance my sword with fire and wait for the rest to arrive. With my back against the wall, I swing my weapon in wide arcs to keep them at bay, and whenever one gets too close, I strike it with the blade. It’s neither blunt damage nor am I cutting through bone, but the fire magic burns them. It takes longer than the fire bolt did, probably because the arrow dealt more direct damage, but eventually they all fall.

  I barely get a small break before the other group arrives. Good. My channeling spell doesn’t have much time left anyway. I manage to defeat them too. The magical fire goes out when there are still three left. I’ve lost two more health points from hits they managed to land.

  I switch tactics, using the pommel and guard like a mace again. I’m exhausted, the pain’s setting in, but I refuse to go down. I’m not going to let myself be killed. When I finish one off by sweeping its last leg with a kick and crushing its skull with my boot, I suddenly feel a sharp pain in my back and neck.

  Warning: The damage received would have lowered your life below one health point. The Major Protection Necklace activates. You are at 5 HPs.

  I swat the window away while scrambling back into the back-against-the-wall position I’d lost without even realizing it. Two. I have two enemies left. If not for the item, I’d already be dead. Blind rage floods through me, and I finish them off, pulling energy from reserves I didn’t know I had.

  It ends. Everything ends. I close my eyes for an instant, realizing I no longer hear the metallic clank and bone rattle of their footsteps. I’ve defeated both waves.

  Exhausted, the adrenaline drains from my system, and I let my back slide down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor.

  Congratulations. You have leveled up. You are now level 5 and have one free attribute point to spend.

  A couple of minutes pass before I hear a whimper. I frown and pull off my backpack. The pup looks at me with what I can only describe as a look of accusation in its eyes. I think I hurt it somehow during those moments when I crushed my back against the wall. I pet it gently and examine its small body—it seems fine.

  Then I check my character sheet and confirm that I did, in fact, level up. However, though I just received a notification about the level increase, there’s nothing about accessing the dungeon’s second floor. No door has opened, no new passage revealed itself. Looks like I still have to deal with the archers.

  Bianca L’Crom

  Race: Human

  Age: 18

  Level: 5

  Constitution: 6

  Strength: 2

  Intelligence: 3

  Agility: 5 + 1

  Wisdom: 6

  HP: 5

  MP: 3

  Magic Affinities: Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Spirit, and Light.

  Skills: Runner

  Spells: Minor Earth Control. Minor Fire Bolt. Minor Breath Control. Minor splash. Minor Healing. Minor Channeling.

  The pup stays quiet. It can clearly smell how pissed off I am. If not for it, I would’ve tried to leave the dungeon and, if that hadn’t been possible, I’d have picked the lowest difficulty level. Like this… it’s fucking insanity.

  I look at my character sheet. I have one free attribute point to allocate. Saving it isn’t an option. Death seems certain, so I have to burn through all my resources. The plan is simple: finish off those skeletons, then rest, eat something, and sleep on this level to recover my mana. Once I’m back to full, I’ll move to the next one. Right now, I have three mana points. One is clearly going toward a healing spell, since the necklace that saved my life is on cooldown. The other two are for combat.

  If earth magic could move more volume, I might try crushing those skeletons inside their balconies, but that’s not the case. Channeling is my best option again. With fire, I’d kill them quickly; with earth, I’d raise my defense and maybe survive the arrow shots to the back that I’ll undoubtedly take when I try to kill any of those skeletons with my sword.

  I didn’t get a good look at them—I was too busy running for my life. Couldn’t say how many there were, but without doubt, many.

  Well, I’m going to tie the buckler to my back to cover my neck and head. With how small it is, it won’t do much more. I take a rope from my backpack and get to work. The pup stays quiet.

  Next, I look at my character sheet again. The problem won’t be killing the archers; it’ll be surviving the arrows from the others while I do it. Those balconies are separated by several meters on both sides of the wide corridor. If I start with the closest one on the right, for example, I’ll get shot by the next one on the right and two on the left. The others probably don’t have the range.

  With five of six health points, I need to raise my defense—which I’ll do with spirit channeling using the earth element—and my health. I move my finger toward constitution and hesitate. If I raise wisdom, it’ll increase my mana, and if I raise intelligence, it’ll boost the damage or, in this case, what channeling protects me with. I’m going to assume this works like in the game, since everything I’ve seen so far follows those rules.

  So I can raise my health by one point, raise my mana by one point, or increase what that channeling does, as it simulates a stone skin spell that protects me. If I can reduce the damage those arrows do to me by even one point, it’ll be much easier to survive—especially if, as I suspect, right now an arrow only deals one point of damage unless they crit. That’s what it did before.

  I decide.

  I choose intelligence.

  “You’re going to stay here. I can’t protect you,” I tell the little wolf while taking it out of the backpack and leaving it in a corner.

  It stays quiet, looks at the ground, and remains still.

  “Good.”

  I put the backpack on again, since it’ll provide some protection, and begin to approach slowly. As soon as I see the two closest archers—one from each wall—nock arrows and start drawing their bows, I take a step back. Their arrows don’t reach me; I’m barely out of range. I spend two of my three mana points and activate the spell. It can’t cover my entire body, so I apply it to my back and the back and sides of my legs. I feel warm energy flow through me and see a brownish glow on my skin. Perfect. Sixty seconds.

  I run toward the archer on the left.

  At the last moment, I jump to the side to dodge the point-blank arrow he just shot at me. I think I got lucky and dodged a couple more with the movement. I go for him, sword in hand.

  In close combat, he’s as slow as the skeleton warriors and much easier to kill, since he only has his bow to block strikes from my sword’s pommel. Three impacts push me forward, throwing me against him—three arrows that hit the buckler, the backpack, and my kidneys. None take health points from me. As for my strike, it lands on his skull, cracking it. The next one splits it into several pieces while bone shards fly.

  Then I grab his bow and try to snap it in two. I could’ve taken his head off, but his bones haven’t collapsed yet, and I don’t trust that he won’t keep shooting if I turn my back on him.

  Despite being wood and looking flimsy, I don’t have the strength to break it. More arrows slam into me. One of them, fired by a skeleton peeking out from the same wall, hits the side of my leg. A critical hit—it costs me one health point.

  If that had hit my face… that kind of shot could kill me instantly, stone skin or not.

  Raising my sword, I destroy one of the skeleton’s arms so it can’t shoot, then dash toward the one across the way. I’ll finish this one off later if it’s still alive.

  Like this, one by one, I keep finishing them off, making sure to stay well inside each balcony so the next skeleton can’t get a side shot at my head. I silently thank the buckler; it stops hits that would’ve been killing blows otherwise.

  There are fourteen in total. I take down eleven during that minute of channeling, and the remaining three without the extra protection; but I manage it.

  I’m bleeding, my leg injured and one arm disabled—not my sword arm—and I’m exhausted.

  I ignore the popup window and yank out the arrow lodged above my elbow, in the triceps muscle, then pull the others from my back and leg. I immediately cast healing. My wounds close, the bleeding stops, and I can move my arm again.

  Then, yes, I look at the message:

  You have just completed the dungeon’s first level. The stairs to the second floor have just opened.

  That’s it? No loot. No treasure. Nothing?

  Because none of the skeletons dropped any items. I glance up at the balconies. The archers lie there like piles of bones, stacked without a trace of the blue energy that once held them together and animated them. There are no chests, no hidden rooms, no hint of a reward waiting for me anywhere.

  This difficulty level was supposed to have the best loot. But it’s insanity level. If they handed out equipment and health potions now, wouldn’t that make things easier?

  Because the other times I cleared the beginner dungeon, all I got were common jewelry like rings and a few potions. No magical equipment that I could be using right now.

  “Damn seed of evil,” I mutter between my teeth.

  I head back to where I left the culprit, only to stop short. What used to be a corner is no longer there. In place of the wall, spiral stairs descend into darkness, lit by torches along the stone. Leaning over the edge, I spot the next floor several meters below.

  Perfect.

  I’m not going down there until I eat, sleep, and recover my mana. Right now, it’s sitting at zero.

  As for my level, there’s no new increase. In the otome game, leveling up past this point required massive amounts of experience. The maximum level is twenty, and the curve rises exponentially; it more than doubles each time. It took several clears of the newbie dungeon just to reach level four. That’s how I know the skeleton warriors must’ve given me a ton of experience to push me to level five.

  Insanity difficulty probably boosts experience gain too. Even so, the archers only filled my bar by about thirty percent. Well, “only” is relative—thirty percent is a lot for just fourteen enemies.

  I sink down onto the floor and inspect my arrow-riddled backpack. Thanks to my reinforced skin, the arrows that punched through it didn’t injure me.

  One by one, I pull them out. The water skin is punctured. I drink what little remains before it spills everywhere. Luckily, there’s a spare. The food—bread, cheese, and strips of raw bacon—is still edible. Beaten up and full of holes, but edible.

  Taking a big bite, I chew and plan my next steps. Once my mana recovers to six points, clearing enough of the second level to level up again should be doable. At level seven, specializations unlock, along with new skills and spells.

  The real goal is finding the return stone. Securing a safe place to rest and recover mana again would be even better. There’s no rush. I’d rather take a scolding from the steward for disappearing for a few days than end up dead.

  The pup stares at me, placing one tiny paw on my leg. The request is obvious.

  “Here, but don’t get used to it because I’m still mad at you.” A strip of bacon goes its way.

  It snatches it eagerly.

  We finish eating—lightly, since I have no idea how long we’ll be stuck here—and I pack everything away. Then I look for a place to lie down. Just as I settle in, the backpack under my head, another notification flashes into view.

  Warning. The dungeon’s first floor is going to close. Proceed down the stairs if you don’t want to end up crushed. Time remaining: 10 seconds.

  “What?”

  The pup barks at my startled jump.

  9.

  The ground starts shaking.

  8.

  “Fucking hell. I curse my luck for finding this wolf!”

  Grabbing the backpack, I sprint toward the stairs.

  7.

  6.

  5.

  Collapse noises echo through the floor.

  But it's not time yet! There are still seconds left!

  I throw myself down the stairwell. The pup clamps onto my leg and comes along like a stowaway.

  2.

  Down we go.

  1.

  A deafening crash erupts above me as the entire upper floor collapses. I pick up speed, trip on the last steps, and slam face-first into the floor below. It hurts, but my health doesn’t drop.

  Heart pounding, I look up, bracing for the avalanche of stone and earth.

  It never comes.

  An invisible barrier seals the stairwell, stopping the rubble cold.

  I scoop up the pup—its teeth still clamped onto my boot—and hug it tight. We almost didn’t make it. Carefully, I move away from the stairwell.

  It vanishes, replaced by solid stone.

  “Well. Welcome to the second level of hell,” I mutter.

  The seed lifts its head from my arms and licks my face.

  Screwed. I’m completely screwed. Zero mana points, and I seriously doubt they’ll let me sleep down here.

  This is, without question, the fucking end.