The buzzing from his tafla woke him four hours later, and he sat up feeling surprisingly rested. His enhanced body clearly needed less sleep, and he was pleased to find that all of his injuries had pretty much healed.

  He stashed his gear and took care of his basic chores before once again setting off into the woods. The cautious route he’d taken that morning was swiftly abandoned, and instead he made a beeline up the slope. He had a shortlist of skills he wanted to acquire on this first trip, and he’d need a significant amount of spira to make that happen. More spira meant bigger, tougher enemies. He had a few new ideas he wanted to try—he simply needed the foes to test them on.

  He soon got his wish.

  The forest thickened the further he got up the slope, the interlocking branches creating a veritable ceiling of rustling needles. What should have been hours of evening quickly eroded into twilight, darkness descending faster than he could have imagined. It was only then that Sam realized he hadn't purchased a lantern. [Enhanced Perception] was doing a lot of heavy lifting, and it was the first time he really appreciated just how much it improved his suite of senses.

  It was those senses that gave him fair warning of the melee taking place in a large glade a little farther up the hill. The fight seemed desperate, and he heard the commotion long before he saw it. He crept up behind a particularly thick pine and peered out to witness the battle.

  Two distinct squads of Warriors were fighting off a swarm of giant, bat-like creatures. The monsters’ backs were covered in a layer of spiky carapace, their head and eyes completely obscured by a helmet of pearlescent bone. In addition to their teeth and claws, the bats emitted high-pitched shrieks that dazed and disoriented their targets. The Warriors flailed around helplessly, clutching at their ears. Sam saw one take a nasty bite to the arm, dropping their weapon and collapsing to the ground, screaming.

  Their partner tried to cover for them, but the towering dremin wasn't much use against the bats’ coordinated dive-bombing. Sam was shocked by how lightly the Warriors were geared. Each had a simple weapon and maybe a single piece of armour. He wondered how they'd managed to make it this far up the hill without being eaten.

  One of the Warriors—a fair-skinned dalith with golden hair—launched a series of ice shards at the bats, but all she managed to do was infuriate them, and they concentrated their attacks, swarming her like a school of piranhas. Her partner tried to intervene, but it was no use, and Sam had to grit his teeth and turn away as her terrified screams were cut short, buried under the mass of writhing bodies.

  The remaining Warriors didn't stick around to repeat the process. The dremin half carried his injured human party member, and the haunted-looking tzen brought up the rear, mumbling incoherently as he half-heartedly swatted at the pursuing bats.

  The swarm gave up the chase after a short while, retreating back towards a crooked shadow that dominated the center of the glade. Sam peered at it, eyes straining, willing his enhanced vision to sharpen. Thankfully, it obliged, revealing a crumbling stone tower. The bats congregated around it, wheeling and shrieking before returning to their roosts.

  Intrigued, Sam stalked after the Warriors, careful not to make too much noise. He needn't have bothered; they were yelling loud enough to be heard in Homst.

  “I told you we shouldn't have tried to enter the Dungeon!” the Tzen screamed, voice raw with anger. “Delah’s dead, she’s dead! They fucking ate her!” He stopped, bracing his hands on his knees and vomiting all over his boots. He was shaking like a leaf, and Sam figured he was probably the tzen version of a teenager, though it was hard to tell with the bony goblins.

  The dremin let out a snarl, its long snout revealing surprisingly blunted teeth. “How could we have known about the nightseekers? It was you who was gabbing on and giving away our position. They only swarmed us because you couldn't keep your blasted mouth shut.”

  The tzen turned to look at his companions, chest heaving, eyes vacant. “We never even should have been here! This layer is clearly 5k+. Did you see those things? They must have been worth 250 each!” Sam raised an eyebrow at that, filing away the terminology.

  It seemed that other Warriors categorized the different sections based on how much spira you needed to traverse them comfortably. 5k likely represented 5,000 spira worth of skills, which meant he was still extremely overpowered for this section.

  The human chimed in, sloppily tying a bandage around her injured arm. “How could we have known? The Herald of War mentioned increasing the number of monsters, but never mentioned anything about opening Challenge Dungeons right away. Talber said those don't usually open until at least week three!”

  The dremin nodded in agreement, “There was nothing for it, we had to try. Imagine the loot awaiting inside that tower. If Delah had been strong enough, she would have survived. It was the will of the gods. Clearly, she was not destined to see the Halls of Eternity.”

  Sam clenched his fists and found that he had to hold himself back from storming out of the bushes and confronting the self-righteous grizzly. The dwarf woman hadn't deserved what had happened to her. Hell, no one deserved to be eaten alive by a swarm of murder-bats. They were all here against their will, all slaves to the gods.

  Sam was surprised by his own reaction. Anger seemed closer at hand since he’d arrived on Olympos. It was always there, a torrent of molten heat that flowed just below the surface. He wrangled it back under control and watched as the trio stumbled off down the hill.

  He turned his attention back towards the tower, the outline of a very dangerous idea forming in his mind. The fleeing Warriors had been woefully underpowered for the dungeon—but he had no such issues. He had no idea what kind of rewards were waiting inside, but clearly they were good enough to risk dying for.

  He crept back towards the tower, being careful to stick to the edge of the glade. A pile of glistening white bones were all that remained of the fallen dalith. The nightseekers had wasted no time picking them clean, leaving behind only a few trinkets and scraps of clothing. Their efficiency would have been impressive if it weren't so terrifying.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  He stared up at the dilapidated stone tower and weighed his options. As it stood, he had no practical method to dispatch the nightseekers at range and no broad area attack to deal with them once they got close. His cuirass and shield would offer decent protection, but he was still at risk of being overwhelmed by their sonic attacks.

  What he really needed to do was lure them out in small groups and eliminate them that way. He was confident that he could handle a few of them, but the real danger came from being overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

  He continued his lap of the tower, trying to get a sense for the scale of the structure. The main building wasn't large, but he spotted multiple entrances leading down to shadowy staircases. It seemed to be the remains of an ancient fort, but the proportions didn't look right to be human. The doors were well over nine feet tall and wide enough that three people could comfortably walk side by side.

  He’d almost completely scouted the perimeter when he got the sense he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he gripped his shield, subtly putting his back against a rock. The forest appeared calm, but his instincts were screaming that something was amiss.

  He probably would have missed the nightseeker’s near-silent approach if he hadn't happened to glance up at the exact right moment. He crouched and raised his shield just in time to block a set of slobbering fangs. The wood held fast, and the bat let out a frustrated yowl, wings flapping rapidly as it attempted to regain some altitude.

  Sam was one of the rare people who thought bats were cute. He knew they freaked people out, but ever since he’d been to the zoo as a child, he’d always been enamoured with them. As someone with O-negative blood, he’d always been the favourite prey of local bloodsucking insects. He thought there was something profoundly likable about an animal that killed mosquitoes by the thousands.

  Unfortunately, this particular bat was only looking to kill him, and it retained none of the cuteness of its earthly counterparts.

  The nightseeker recovered swiftly from its first failed attack, and Sam could see it inhale in preparation for its sonic blast. He steeled himself, preparing for the inevitable wave of sound. Instead, all he felt was a mild ringing in his ears and a minor bout of dizziness. He frowned, wondering why the other Warriors had seemed so impacted by attacks. He checked his HUD, and to his surprise, [Apostate] was listed in his collection of active skills.

  That meant that the sonic blast was technically a [Divine Skill], and Sam made a mental note to ask Arther if all magic fell under that header. His mind flashed back to the fire he’d inadvertently summoned in his battle with the rats, still unsure how he’d managed to wield the magic with no patron.

  The bat dove at him again, clearly expecting him to be weakened from the skill. Instead, he lazily thrust his spear, skewering the beast. To his disappointment, the creature was only worth a measly 100 spira.

  250 my ass, he thought to himself, storing the corpse. Even if the attacks were more impactful en masse, he felt a lot more confident approaching the tower. If the others were right and this really was some kind of dungeon, he’d have a real opportunity to extend his lead further. They’d mentioned loot, and that was something he was sorely lacking.

  He had to admit, he was still pretty miffed that animal-like monsters didn't drop coins or items like they did in video games. A childhood spent dabbling in RPGs had set the expectation that snakes would carry knives, and boars—coats of chainmail. He supposed this was more realistic, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

  As a small consolation, he heard an audible ding as one of his skills reached the next level. Grinning, he checked his tafla to see that [Basic Perception] had also reached Tier 2. It was the skill he passively used the most, so he wasn't surprised at levelling it so quickly.

  He slowly walked towards the tower, prepared to turn and flee if he felt he was at risk of being overwhelmed. A notification chimed softly in his ear, and a pop-up appeared, confirming what the others had said:

  [Dungeon Discovered: Twilight Crypts]

  ????

  Two skull icons hovered under the name, and not for the first or tenth time, he wished he’d had access to the tutorial. He figured the skulls probably represented some kind of difficulty rating…but was two high? Was it pathetically low? He had no way of knowing beyond watching the others get thoroughly trounced.

  He decided two wasn't enough to turn back, and crept towards one of the smaller side entrances. The ruined door that barred the entrance had long since rotted away, leaving nothing but a set of rusty hinges. Beyond, a small antechamber gave way to a set of crumbling marble stairs, descending deep into the earth.

  He still had a few rags left from his original tunic, and he fashioned himself a makeshift torch from his old crutch. The ancient stone bore a series of strange markings that [Child of Babel] was unable to translate. Over the markings were a set of cruder forms, gouged and hacked into the stone with a brutish gusto. The sight of these alien runes elicited an almost primal response, urging him to turn back. Some of the markings looked as though they'd been painted in blood; a warning from the dungeon to those considering ransacking its depths.

  He almost turned and left, but surprisingly, it was the practical part of him that insisted on staying. This was his chance to extend his lead, not only to grind for spira but also to acquire rare gear. Yes, it was a risk, but what wasn't? The countdown wouldn't stop for him, or anyone else.

  He took a deep breath and held his torch high. The flames did little to light his path. The darkness, determined, rebelled against the intruder violating its domain. Fortunately, the antechamber appeared empty of nightseekers.

  He took a few cautious steps into the room, boots scuffling on the rough stone floor. He stood at the top of the stairs and looked down into the abyss. The staircase descended into a sludgy, grey haze. The walls were slick with moisture, and a dank, pervasive stench stung at his nostrils. The place reeked of death. It was stamped into the soul of the tower, engraved into its foundations.

  Sam took one last look over his shoulder, trying to do the math on how many of the bats he'd need to kill to reach his goals. It did not look positive. The dungeon was an unknown, but he was confident that any monster he encountered inside would be worth a whole lot more than 100 spira.

  He took a deep breath and descended the first step.

  The stair shifted beneath his boot with an ominous thwunk. He heard a mechanism catch, and the sound of chains and gears suddenly began rattling from inside the walls. Sam leapt back, stumbling as he rushed towards the entrance. It was already too late. A massive stone slab covered in runes dropped from a cavity in the ceiling—blocking the entrance. It slammed down with the weight of the tower itself, the sound fading with a resolute finality.

  Locking him in the dark.