Spending an afternoon napping in a luxury carriage would've been great if the interior was air-conditioned. Considering someone had already invented magic powered refrigerators, I figured AC couldn’t have been too much of a stretch.

  I drifted in and out of sleep, catching snippets of discussions regarding my brief battle and overwhelming victory. As a lifetime loner used to hiding in the shadows, being the center of attention was not only strange, but downright uncomfortable.

  They had watched me kill two men in broad daylight, and now I was being treated like Oprah. Tobias had fluffed the pillows and offered me one of his extra rations. Even Oakley, the older Pearl Banner kid, changed seats to give me more leg room. Joel kept slapping my shoulder, laughing and telling tales of the Twilight Ranger's past escapades, like we'd been lifelong friends. For the last hour, I had been awake but kept my eyes closed, pretending to sleep.

  “We're here,” Duskblade said.

  The carriage stopped, and the coachman opened the door. “This is as far as I go. However, I'll be setting up camp and waiting for your return. May Galdir bless your journey.”

  Journey? No, this is a mere pit stop—the equivalent of stepping out of my apartment for some Chinese takeout.

  Duskblade offered a quick bow and passed the coachman a small satchel of silver as the rest of us stepped out and stretched our legs underneath the fading sunlight.

  “Sir, this is unnecessary. Pearl Banner's already covered the expenses,” the coachman said, bowing low enough that his forehead nearly kissed the dirt.

  “Consider this an incentive to wait for us, even if there's a delay.”

  Delay? There can't be, I'll make sure of that.

  Leaving Viessa alone for more than a few days was out of the question. The last thing I needed was her getting anxious and venturing out by herself.

  Why do I care? She'd be doing me a favor.

  “Shut up,” I mumbled.

  “What was that?” Tobias asked.

  “Nothing, forget it.”

  As I stepped outside, I realized we were smack dab in a dense forest along the western outskirts of Waystone Village. There was a towering wall of ancient trees standing before us. Their massive trunks acted as a natural barrier, leaving nothing but a small gap to pass through. The wall of white bark glittered brilliantly, reflecting the sun’s fading light.

  This distinct species of tree stood out from the rest of the forest—a line in the sand. The gap offered a narrow corridor that was only possible to traverse on foot in a single file line. After we unloaded the equipment and supplies, Duskblade took the lead and I secured a spot behind him, much to Grace's dismay, who couldn't mask the cherry blush of displeasure on her cheeks.

  I carried an inexpensive cloth sack containing my last health potion, a few rations, some anti-venom, and a fresh change of undergarments tucked under my cloak. The others wore traveler's backpacks overstuffed with enough supplies to weather a month-long castle siege.

  Despite not knowing the dungeon's exact location, I detected a dangerous energy ahead of us. An energy comparable to what I felt when Justice forced me to kneel in her overwhelming heavenly light.

  “You said you defeated a guardian for the key?” I asked.

  Duskblade glanced over his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “It wasn't an easy feat. When a dungeon appears, it's usually a race between different parties and factions to slay the guardian and secure the key. Sometimes they'll auction the rights to the keys to the highest bidder or prepare a raid themselves. We got lucky and were in Waystone finishing a contract when the dungeon appeared.”

  I wasn't really interested in such a detailed explanation. I was more concerned about learning how their fight with the guardian went and how dungeons just appeared out of thin air.

  Grace yanked on my shoulder. “Don't speak so formally. Don't you realize how lucky you are that The Great Duskblade asked for your participation? Anyone else would've paid handsomely to join us.”

  “Grace, enjoy it while you can. It won't be long before this man's name is known throughout Aclana. Then we'll be the ones addressing him formally.”

  “Yeah, right,” Grace scoffed.

  Her lack of poise directly contrasted with her name, not that it bothered me in the slightest. I couldn't fault her instincts for being 100% accurate. She was right to be wary of a psycho wolf struggling to wear a sheep's mask that didn't fit. I'd already slaughtered two men without a moment's hesitation, and that alone was enough cause for her trepidation.

  I needed to be more careful with my plan of bolstering Cyprus as a noble, reputable name before it was completely ruined. If I became known as a ruthless bastard, it wouldn't be long before the Sawara Investigation Unit or other authorities looked my way. Clashing with scumbags and ruffians was one thing, but waging a battle against a group of people with positive karma was too risky.

  “My apologies.” I bowed my head.

  “Don't worry about it. I just hope you'll remember us when you're famous,” Duskblade said.

  The passage tightened, forcing everyone to turn sideways to avoid the prickly shimmering bark. Even the species of trees outside of the dungeon seemed treacherous, and the damned canopy almost made it pitch black. As we curved right, I noticed a dim glow of green light in the distance, marking the exit.

  “We're here,” Duskblade said, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead.

  One by one we filed out of the corridor into a compact semi-circle walled in by impenetrable nature. Moss colored hues of light illuminated the area, casting our shadows back into the dark passageway. An enormous stone doorway stood before us, blocking off what looked like a substantial cavern. A faint familiar energy leaked from it.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “These quarters are cramped, but we can set up a small tent and some bedrolls for a brief rest before we enter.”

  Why didn't you dumbasses take a nap in the carriage like I did?

  Thankfully, before I could object, the rest of the party complained in unison, claiming it was a waste of time and that they had already rested plenty. Duskblade simply nodded and retrieved the dungeon's key from a leather bag and approached the door. He pushed the key into a tiny opening and the forest floor rumbled as the tremendous stone door slid open, revealing a descending set stairs carved out of the aged rock.

  “I'll lead the way. From this point forward, we'll only speak when absolutely necessary. Tobias and Oakley cast an Illumination Orb once the darkness is overwhelming.”

  But as we reached the bottom of the stairs, the darkness was nonexistent. Instead, a soft, greenish light with earthy undertones radiated from the mossy ceiling, lighting up a vast chamber of white glitter bark trees and overgrown shrubs. There was no doubt we were underground, yet it was like we were at the base of a sprawling forest. An unnatural forest, alive and well without the need for natural sunlight. There was no end in sight.

  What the hell is this?

  “Dungeons are mere bridges between realms. They have their own ecosystems, unique organisms, and things that defy the laws of nature. I admit, I've never been in a dungeon this boundless. Thank the gods it didn't lock. This could take a month to clear.”

  A month?! Don't jinx us, you bastard! Also, didn't you tell us not to speak unless it was necessary?

  An awfully loud cranking noise echoed from up the stairway behind us. I balled my hand into a fist and cursed under my breath, already knowing what bullshit was transpiring. The party's confident expressions morphed into concerned, fearful glances as the dungeon locked.

  “Nobody panic.” Duskblade dropped the backpack from his shoulders and raised his shield and sword. “We've prepared for this exact scenario. First, we'll clear a perimeter and establish a base camp. It's still a C rank dungeon, locked in or not.”

  At least Leighland's words diffused the party's spiraling morale for the moment. Yet, I wondered how long it would take before their mental states crumbled. The Pearl Banner kids looked like they were already fighting to hold back tears, and the rest of the Twilight Rangers were stunned.

  The subtle sway of bushes over 100 yards ahead of us automatically activated Karma’s Gaze, scanning the area. Despite being unable to physically see any enemies, numerous foreign names and level two targets filled my line of sight. The bonus information relayed that they were goblins.

  Filter, level 3.

  Twenty or so names vanished, leaving only two targets in their back line.

  Target: Gobdorian

  Level: 3

  Karma: -875

  Additional Data: Goblin squad leader.

  Additional status information unavailable.

  Good enough.

  The second level three target had similar stats and provoked an error message from the system. Most importantly, by karmic standards, they were evil, and I'd maintain my increased damage buff. That revelation put my nerves at ease, though that didn't change the fact that there were 20 to 30 of them. They wouldn't be able to overwhelm me with those numbers, but the same couldn't be said for the rest of the group.

  I raised my arm and pointed to the north. “There are about 30 goblins in that brush. They're slowly advancing on our position.”

  Duskblade's eyebrows nearly flew off his face. “What?” He narrowed his gaze in their direction. “How can you see them?”

  “I can't, but I sense them.”

  “Everyone take the defensive formation we discussed,” Duskblade commanded. “You can use perception magic?”

  “No, nothing like that,” I said.

  Is that really important, right now?

  “You have the strength of a warrior and the speed of an assassin.”

  An assassin? That's the exact opposite of the image I'm trying to curate.

  “No, no,” I said, waving my arms. “I'm not an assassin. I hate killing and only use deadly force in acts of self-defense.”

  Duskblade's smile helped liven up the abysmal atmosphere. “Then you must be a martial artist!”

  Yes! I'll go with that.

  I nodded. After all, it was a partial truth. I was unsure of what being a martial artist in this world truly meant, but on Earth, I had spent 15 years learning mixed martial arts. It all started with Karate, then boxing, a year of Tai Chi, some Krav Maga, a bit of Judo, a healthy dose of Jiu-Jitsu, and a ton of Muay Thai, which was my personal favorite. There was something incredibly satisfying about breaking someone’s bones with my elbows.

  “I'd like to engage them before they launch their offensive.”

  Grace popped up from the side with a stiletto in each hand. “Is your brain working?”

  “I'll get past the bulk of their forces and eliminate their squad leaders. Just stay back and handle the ones that escape,” I said.

  “Escape? They're goblins! They'll just swarm you,” Grace said, exasperated.

  I could tell Duskblade was about to say “she's right” or some dumb equivalent. To avoid a debate we didn't have time for, I said, “Good point. I can't get bogged down,” and tossed Grace my sword, forcing her to fumble her daggers. A collective wave of confusion washed over everyone as I dashed away in the enemy's direction.

  “Cyprus!” Duskblade shouted, but I was gone.

  +1 Agility

  +1 Stamina

  It seemed like my recent high activity lifestyle paid off. I immediately recognized the 20% increase in speed as my vision sharpened, practically outlining the goblin's presence through their cover. I had already surpassed any normal human's max velocity several times over. Within five seconds, I had covered 80 yards of uneven terrain littered with roots and rocks begging to trip me. Yet I avoided every obstacle, effortlessly gliding toward the pocket of goblins.

  I popped out through the brush, finally laying eyes on the enemy. Their twisted olive tinted faces and crooked teeth almost reminded me of Chaos' disgusting mug. However, the rest of their bodies contradicted my preconceived stereotype of what goblins were supposed to look like. I expected a bunch of tiny punks, but they were all four to five feet tall and all of them were absolutely ripped. Like Brad Pitt in Fight Club, stone cut by Da Vinci himself.

  Whether or not they were gym rats, their reaction to my arrival was way too slow. In one swift motion, I jetted through the stunned congregation, immediately reaching their squad leader. I grabbed the level three goblin’s throat, ripped it out and tossed into the face of the other level three. Shocked cries bellowed out from the crowd as the bulk of their forces turned inward on me. But by that time, I was already squeezing the second squad leader's voice box in my palm like a stress ball.

  The first wave of pissed off goblins rushed in, blinded by fury, resulting in seven consecutive throat rips. The second wave of goblins took a more methodical approach with a circle formation. It wasn’t a bad idea, but their coordination was poor. For every ill-timed attack, I took a throat until the circle dissolved. The third wave of goblins held a defensive position, forming a tight formation with shields overlapping each other like they were in a fucking Zack Snyder movie.

  I lunged forward, reaching my arm through a gap, and found another throat. They responded by hopelessly poking at me with their spears. Each strike unfolded at a glacial pace, ensuring a subsequent throat donation. I cleaned the rest of them up and wiped my bloodied hands off on the grass.

  +280 XP

  +100 Karma

  The amount of experience gained disappointed me considering the quantity of goblins I had dispatched. Although, I figured this display of power would help put the rest of the party at ease and bolster their morale. They needed to survive and spread my name. And they also needed to understand that when I claimed the Chaos Shard, they wouldn't dare try to renegotiate the terms of our agreement.

  I stared off into the distance, covered in goblin gore, still not seeing an end to the dungeon in sight.