Chapter Thirty-Four—The Ninth Floor of Narkuun

Nearly Six Months Ago

With all their new equipment from the gold supplies by vizier Faridoon, there was no way they could lose this fight!

Still…

Shiro’s heart was beating fast.

“End of the ninth floor, heh, Shiro?” Mirrikh said, nudging him. They were both wearing the new alakyte armor they had purchased.

Shiro nodded.

The floor boss still remains, he thought.

But the tricky thing about the Narkuun dungeon was that it was unpredictable. Floor bosses moved between levels, so adventurers never knew what they were getting when they entered into a boss room.

“Whoever it is,” Mazi said, his huge arms flexing as he uttered the words, “he’s about to be in a world of blood and pain!”

Javed laughed. “But we need to be careful. This expensive armor—“

“Armor!” Mirrikh broke in. “Forget about the armor, these weapons cost five times what our armor cost!”

“I was getting to that,” Javed said, a visible air of annoyance on his face. “My point is we can’t lose. Not with all this gear.”

Baibar came up at the rear in his light alakyte, a silvery-blue glint shining from the glowing crystals on this floor. “The others are securing the area and cleaning up for loot and other valuables,” he said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, a long crystal-tipped spear in his hands.

Shiro had not chosen to buy a new weapon. In fact, they hadn’t had the funds for it. With one man short, Shiro had decided to use his katana, leaving his scimitar behind. The katana was a far superior blade in any event, forged by the master smiths in daimyo Karage’s employ.

Shiro made his way forward to the double doors of black-onyx stone. They were covered in runes of warning and magical warding. Unless the monsters on every floor up to this point were cleared, the doors would not open for any reason.

Shiro craned his neck to get a full view of them as they cracked, revealing the floor boss’ territory, a hilly expanse covered in crystal outcroppings, pools of glowing water and a Majja Vyne at the center with thorns the size of a man’s hand.

“Time to earn our keep,” Mirrikh said charging past Shiro.

No one had reached this floor boss in some weeks. Now Shiro and his team were entering after hardly breaking a sweat.

“Hopefully we get an easier floor boss, huh?” Baibar said.

Mazi harrumphed. “I don’t care what boss it is. I’m”—he sprinted to an outcropping of crystals—“GOING TO CRUSH IT TO PIECES!” He jumped, flipped and slammed his hammer into the mineral growths, shattering them into oblivion.

“Save your strength,” Shiro said.

“We’re going to shred this boss,” Baibar said.

“Do not be overconfident,” Javed added. “I’m with Shiro on this—though I do feel rather excited and unstoppable myself.”

So do I, he thought.

They ventured toward the center of the space. There was an even area, a platform of bricks to stand on. It was part of the original construction of the dungeon. Many of those bricks had fallen or chipped off, but the platform was still largely intact.

Lying against a large bolder, a skeleton with a rusted sword lay, it’s gaping maw open either in pure horror or laughter.

Maybe both.

Then the floor started to rumble.

“He’s coming,” Shiro said. “The boss.”

“Yeah,” Mirrikh said, “but which one?”

Mazi turned and looked at the other man. “Hope it’s not Salamandrid,” he said in his deep voice.

“Why not?”

“Too hot.”

“Ha!” Baibar said. “Maybe it’ll be Avalani. As strong as this armor is, if you press to impervious plates together, the soft stuff in between’s still gonna get squished.”

“That’s a wonderful thought,” Javed added.

“Let’s wait and see which boss we get,” Shiro said, “then formulate a plan as we fight. Get ready!”

He didn’t want to tell the others, but despite all their preparations, despite them being a group of high-class adventurers, Shiro had a bad feeling.

It is only jitters. We are well prepared.