Viktor gazed at the towering Cyclops from behind, its bare back a slab of living stone, taut muscles rippling under its skin with each breath. The creature stood twice the height of a man, wearing nothing but a tattered loincloth that hung from its waist, its broad shoulders leading into massive, powerful arms, one of which held a colossal club that swayed slowly by its side.

  In front of the terrifying monster stood three adventurers, their eyes wide in disbelief. The large, bearded man in heavy armor was the first to speak. “A Cyclops?” he said, his gauntleted hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. “Is it new? I’ve never heard of Cyclopes in this dungeon before.”

  “The party that reached the third floor said nothing about Cyclopes,” said the woman next to him, sweat already beading on her brow. “There’s a Crocodilian down there, but this floor should only have weaker minions, just like the previous—”

  She was interrupted by the deafening roar of the Cyclops, which was followed by a thunderous pounding of its chest, as if daring the adventurers to make a move.

  “Should we go back?” the warrior said, his eyes narrowing as he gauged the creature. His entire body was covered in steel plates with no parts exposed, yet he didn’t seem confident enough to challenge this foe. “We’ve found some gold. Let’s call it a day.”

  “Are you guys chicken?” scoffed the third member of the group, a tall and slender man. He nocked a bolt into his crossbow. “It has only one eye. The oversized dimwit is easy prey.”

  “Don’t miss,” said the bearded man.

  “I won’t.”

  “If you miss, I’ll melt your face,” said the woman.

  “Just shut up,” the man snapped. “Don’t put pressure on me.”

  Whizz! The bolt flew.

  The rogue smirked as an ear-piercing roar of agony shook the chamber. The Cyclops staggered, clawing at its face, blood oozing between its fingers.

  “See? Told y—”

  The cyclops lunged.

  An amateur’s mistake, Viktor thought. Just because the Cyclops no longer had its sight didn’t mean it was any less dangerous. In fact, the loss of its eye made it even more unpredictable.

  The man’s smirk vanished as he saw the Cyclops, driven by sheer rage, swinging its massive clubs through the air in furious, sweeping arcs. The creature wasn’t aiming at anything, but that didn’t matter. Those wild, frenzied strikes were still as deadly as they had been. And this place was quite cramped, so there was barely any room to maneuver.

  The club swung toward the warrior. He raised his shield, and it shattered instantly. The man’s arm snapped as the club kept going, crushing his chest and hurling him sideways. He hit the wall with a squelch. The lifeless body slid down, painting a crimson streak on the stone behind him. All that armor didn’t help at all.

  The mage screamed. Fire bloomed between her palms, and she hurled it. But her attack had achieved nothing other than setting ablaze the worn-out loincloth.

  That’s another mistake.

  The other two should have disengaged and retreated. After all, the mage simply lacked the power to take down the Cyclops, so all she had done was enrage it even more, and worse, she had revealed her position to the blind creature.

  It sprinted at the woman. Instead of dodging, she stood her ground and continued the barrage. Serpents of flame spiraled toward the charging monster, but it ran straight through the inferno, its hand outstretched.

  The pyromancer’s eyes widened in panic. She turned to flee, but it was too late. The Cyclops snagged her robe, yanking her backward. She kicked and thrashed, desperate to break free, as the creature lifted her into the air. “No—no—!” she screamed, but it didn’t care. It swung her like a sack of meat.

  Smash. Her skull met stone.

  Smash. Her ribs.

  Smash. Her spine.

  When it finally let go, she was limp, her body a bloody mess of flesh and bone.

  The rogue was loading another bolt when all of that happened. But after he saw his friends’ grim fate, the man dropped his weapon and ran.

  “That was quick,” Viktor said, opening his eyes.

  “Is it over?” Fianna asked.

  “Yes, the intruders have been dealt with.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Then, shall we proceed, Master?”

  He nodded, and the water around the boat began to stir again, propelling the vessel forward.

  In the distance, the shoreline grew closer with each passing second. Before long, they reached the far side of the water realm. The boat bumped against the soft sand, and Viktor’s boots sank into the ground as he leapt onto the shore.

  “Thank you.” He gave Fianna a curt nod before heading toward the entrance that opened onto the staircase up to the second floor. But just as he was about to cross the threshold, he halted. “Are you upset?” he asked, glancing back at the mermaid over his shoulder.

  “Upset?” She tilted her head, looking confused. “About what, Master?”

  “Then why didn’t you say anything at all just now?”

  “Well...” She shrugged. “I could tell that our views did not align. I was afraid that if I said more, I’d just make you angry.”

  Who do you think I am? Viktor frowned. A wolf could not possibly be offended by the opinion of a sheep.

  “Speak your mind freely. I won’t get mad or punish you just because of something you said. So there’s no need to hold back.”

  “Are you sure, Master?” Fianna asked, giving him a skeptical look.

  “Yes. If there’s something you need to say, just say it.”

  She nodded. “Understood, Master.” After a few seconds of hesitation, she blurted, “I think a kid your age shouldn’t be so cynical. You’d be way cuter if you weren’t.”

  What? Viktor had no idea what nonsense this crazy woman was babbling on about. I am not a kid! I am your master!

  He was about to bristle, but then... A wolf shouldn’t be troubled by a sheep. So he took a deep breath, turned around, and left.

  No need to be upset. This is nothing.

  After all, he had never let his minions know more than they needed to. So they knew absolutely nothing about him. Not his name, not his past. To them, he was Celeste’s master, and by extension, their master. So when that stupid mermaid had assumed that he was merely a child, it was no surprise. That was exactly how he looked from her perspective, a twelve-year-old boy. In fact, this was a good thing. It proved that his disguise worked. And it was essential for his survival outside the dungeon. Let the others underestimate him. It was better that way.

  He climbed the stairs, passed through the old Core Room, and reached the arena where Sebekton had fought the Dungeon Reavers just three weeks ago. With the cheap oil purchased from the market, he had engulfed the entire room in flames and defeated the invaders. Azran managed to get away, but Lahmia hadn’t been so lucky. He still remembered that playful and seductive woman. Now she rotted in the disposal pit. He wondered what, if anything, was left of her down there, other than brittle bones.

  In the center of the arena stood two towering figures, their one-eyed gazes falling upon him as he approached, and they bowed when they recognized who he was.

  “Keep up the good work!” he said, passing by them toward the door leading to the maze.

  He still didn’t know what to do with this floor. Should he replicate the labyrinth on the first floor or the water realm on the third? He found it a bit redundant, so he had decided to keep the second floor this way, until he unlocked the next domain. Nothing was broken, so nothing needed fixing. There was no need to stir the pot for no reason.

  After going through the maze of narrow corridors, Viktor reached the room under the staircase, guarded by the last of the five newly summoned Cyclopes, who had just engaged the three adventurers. The one-eyed brute was no longer here, though. It had probably received an order from Celeste to retreat deeper into the dungeon to recover, until its injured eye healed. Soon, a different Cyclops would be sent here to take its place.

  So the only things that were waiting for him here were two mangled corpses and an impish creature standing in the middle of the room, who didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the bloody remnants of the battle that had just taken place.

  “Master,” it said with a toothy grin. “I’m here to deliver what you’ve requested.”

  Viktor gazed at the creature. It was short, even shorter than he was, its wiry frame draped in old, dirty clothing. Filth and grime clung to every surface, both in the fabric it was wearing and its dull green-gray skin. Across its chest and shoulders, several belts were strapped tightly, each holding an array of small bags, bulging with what he suspected were tools, gadgets, metal scraps, and other stuff the creature needed for its tinkering.

  “You’re one of the gremlins of the first floor?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “These intruders have gone through you and your brethren to reach here,” Viktor said, glancing at the bloody pulp of a pyromancer. “Have you suffered casualties fighting them?”

  “I’m not sure about the goblins or the spiders, but for us gremlins...” The creature’s face twisted into a wicked grin. “None whatsoever, Master.”

  “None?” Viktor raised an inquisitive eyebrow in its direction.

  The gremlin sniggered. “We simply didn’t fight them,” it said. “Celeste did send an order for us to engage, but I managed to convince her that it wasn’t necessary. After observing these intruders, I had deduced that the Cyclops down here would wipe them out easily.”

  “Cunning, indeed,” Viktor said, amused. “But if you don’t fight, why do I need you?”

  The creature didn’t flinch. “We have other ways to contribute,” it replied, the sly smile still on its face. “For example, the last man of the group, who fled from the Cyclops. Well, let’s just say he didn’t make it very far.”

  “A trap, huh?” Viktor chuckled. “What’s your name?”

  “I am Kazyk, Master.”

  “I take it that you’re the leader of the gremlins?”

  “I don’t know,” the creature replied with a casual shrug. “All I do is tell them what must be done and smack them in the head if they don’t listen.”

  Viktor laughed. “Subordinates like you are very useful to me. Welcome to my dungeon, Kazyk,” he said. “Now, where’s it?”

  The gremlin lowered its head, fingers digging into one of the many pouches strapped to its waist. It pulled out a vial containing a thick, dark green liquid. “Here you are, Master. We’ve extracted it from the Venom Spiders, as you ordered. We’ve also condensed it, making it ten times more effective.”

  “Have you tested it?”

  Kazyk chuckled darkly. “The man I’ve just mentioned,” it said, jerking its chin toward the exit. “He didn’t make five steps before he dropped.”

  Viktor took the vial, turning it over in his fingers. Even though he couldn’t bring his minions beyond the boundary of the dungeon, there were other ways to weaponize them. And this was one. Something to make him a bit less defenseless when outside the walls of his stronghold.

  “Please be careful, Master,” the gremlin said. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, but it’s deadly.”

  Viktor nodded. “I understand its lethality.”

  He hoped the situation in town wouldn’t escalate to the point where he had to use this. But he knew it was just wishful thinking. And when push came to shove, he would take matters into his own hands.