So the cave it was.

Fuck.

I hated spiders. Especially the giant version.

At least this time around, I’d be in better shape and have a real weapon, rather than a stick that I had generously called a truncheon.

So maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad. But spiders…

If there were at least light in the cave.

Granted, I could take some torches from one of the lit hallways in the dungeon or even a few glowing crystals. But how much would that really help me? Probably it’d just blind me and provide a beacon for every freaking monster to indicate my position.

So I resigned myself to stumbling around in the dark, only relying on my Mana Vision. Which, instrumental as it had been to my survival, just did not have the reach to make me feel comfortable.

But you’ve got to play the hand you’re dealt.

Dejected, I used up my amber mana to heal the numerous bruises, cuts, and other ailments I was still suffering, to get myself into the best possible shape. And while I had lots of obvious wounds all over my body, most of my mana ended up going into my arm because the spider remains had started to cause some inflammation in my flesh… another issue I had to deal with rather sooner than later.

Maybe I should just man up and cut into my arm to dig out the stuff. But chances were that I would just faint from the pain and then probably die from blood loss. It was better to wait for some help, at least someone that could do the cutting for me, and bandage the wound until I could pour some amber mana into it.

Unwilling to run around without any healing ability, I waited until my mana had recovered before setting out.

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A couple of days later, I stumbled back into my safe haven, exhausted, dirty, full of bloody scratches and bites, and half-starving.

And without anything to show for it.

The cave system was a lot bigger than I had suspected, so I was far from done exploring it, especially because some of the little tunnels that led away from the main cave were awfully tight. But the part that I could easily investigate had not given any indication of a natural exit to the surface.

Apart from the narrow chimney, I had fallen through.

And while that chimney might allow me a path out, I doubted that I could manage that without some real equipment. Perhaps I could stack a few crates on top of each other, and then squeeze my way into the chimney, but the walls were glistening with water and the moss covering the surface made me doubt that I would find sufficient hand- and footholds to manage the climb.

Perhaps my subconscious fear of another climbing accident played a role in this assessment, but even knowing about my potential bias did not change my evaluation sufficiently to see this as my way out. If anything, it was a measure of last resort.

Which left… what?

Some other side tunnel in the dungeon complex?

Or perhaps the doors behind the throne. That had to go somewhere. Maybe just some sleeping chambers or some such… but at least there might be some type of secret escape tunnel. Didn’t kings always have something like that in case the shit hit the fan? Or was that just something from the stories again?

Either way, I had very few options left, so it was something I had to seriously consider.

But first I had to search for some real food and get some good rest.

The last two days, I had survived on chewing on bitter roots and various fleshy, weirdly colorless leaves, half of which ended up giving me a stomachache. Sleep had consisted of taking short naps, hidden behind giant mushrooms, and hoping that none of the giant bugs running around the cave would notice me.

Needless to say, it had not been restful.

Two encounters with giant spiders, both of which would give me nightmares for many days to come, had not made the experience any better. And the numerous fights with giant centipedes, huge cockroaches, skittering every which way in the dark, and the occasional giant bat swooping down toward my head, had not helped either.

But now I was back home.

Weird how I thought about a hole in the dark as home already.

But humans are adaptable if nothing else. At least some are.

And I was just fucking glad to still be alive.

After an hour of rest, my grumbling stomach made it quite clear that taking care of food had to come first. Thoughts of more of those succulent fruits from my earlier food raid, and perhaps a couple of bat skewers made my mouth salivate as I wormed my way out of my hiding spot.

I was just about to go through the door when I suddenly heard something on the other side. It was a very slight noise, but the last days had made me hyper-alert to any change in my surroundings. In the cave, this had often been my only warning – the scrabbling of claws on the ground, the ever so slight movement of air alerting me to approaching bats, and the minute changes in mana flows that indicated obstacles in my path.

And there definitely was something on the other side of the door.

Immediately, I pressed my body against the wall of the room and covered myself in Shadow Skin.

And none too soon.

Within seconds, the door began to move, and a ray of light cut into the darkness of the room. And it was not only the light from the grand chamber but also a directed beam that illuminated parts of the room, just like a modern flashlight would. It danced around the caved-in ceiling and briefly lit up the remainder of the room, flickering left and right, in an almost random pattern across the dirty, wet tiles and dank, moldy walls.

I stood stock-still, only a few feet away from the door, hoping that whoever this was would not come inside to take a closer look. Anything more than a cursory inspection would reveal the dirt tracks I had invariably left while climbing in and out of my hideout, inevitably leading to a more thorough search. And if the light of the lantern, or whatever created that beam of light, were to shine directly on me, Shadow Skin would be next to useless.

Luckily, the room was dull enough that it apparently did not warrant further inspection, as the light withdrew after just a few seconds and I could hear soft steps moving away. The lack of shouting, grunting, and stomping on the ground made it quite apparent that this had not been a goblin.

Maybe it was a fellow human?

Suddenly excited, I threw caution to the wind and moved toward the door. I wasn’t going to run out screaming or anything foolish like that, but I did want to see who or what I was dealing with.

I stopped, still covered in the darkness of the shadows cast by the half-open door, and searched the room ahead with my eyes.

There was no one.

What the fuck?

Unless he, if it was a man, had suddenly sprinted away, he couldn’t be more than fifteen feet away. My eyes flickered around the room, trying to make sense of what I saw. Or rather making sense of what I didn’t see.

Suddenly, I noticed the dirt about twenty feet to my left shift a tiny bit. It wasn’t much. Just the swirling of dust, and some partially decayed fabric moving a few inches to the side.

But it was enough to catch my attention.

The moment my eyes focused on the spot, I could suddenly make out a person making its way through the debris toward the next door. And, abruptly, I noticed other minute changes in the environment. Almost magically – or, perhaps, in fact magically – two more people appeared out of nowhere.

Each one of them wore dark clothing that somehow made the eye almost skid off of them, like water being repelled by a well-oiled coat. It was as if my eyes tried to tell my brain that there really wasn’t anything there, but my mind insisting that there was a fucking person right in my line of sight.

Which definitely felt weird.

Eventually, I adjusted to the strange effect and was able to focus reasonably well on them, even though my eyes occasionally twitched, like from a nervous tick.

Which was fucking annoying.

But at least I could see them now.

They were heavily equipped with weapons, leather armor, backpacks, and each had a shielded lamp in their hand. And clearly, they were not from or of the dungeon.

Not like the goblins.

And given their equipment, they hadn’t fallen into the dungeon by accident.

Unlike me.

So, obviously, it was a planned expedition. Or at least these people were generally well prepared for such a thing as investigating a dungeon.

But who had equipment like that? Was there anyone in Lake Placid that I thought likely to have a high-quality sword and dagger, an archaic-looking type of lamp that in all likelihood worked with magical crystals and, on top of all that, a full set of well-crafted leather armor and ominously black clothing that seemed to repel casual observation?

Hell no.

Unless things had changed dramatically during the five days I had been stuck down here, there was no way that the people in Lake Placid had suddenly turned into well-equipped, proficient adventurers.

And then one of the figures took of its leather cap, and turned a tiny bit to the side, fiddling around with a strap on the back of the cap. And this was just enough that I could see more of its face.

Immediately, my jaw almost dropped to the floor - high cheekbones, beautiful lustrous blond hair, aquiline nose, and pointy ears – perfectly symmetric facial features, to the degree that it almost made my eyes hurt.

“Legolas,” I whispered, completely flabbergasted.

While my brain tried to catch up to this incredible sight, desperately trying to form a coherent thought, Legolas put his cap back on and started moving. And immediately, I was struck by the grace that belied his tall, lanky body. It was almost like a dancer moving through a routine, with perfect pose and style.

“Elves… they are fucking real!” I mumbled to myself.

I scrutinized the other figures more closely and saw too many similarities to suspect that these were anything but elves as well.

Fucking elves.

I still couldn’t believe it.

But elves or not, were they friendly? If stories were any indication, the worst that could happen would be that they would be haughty, even arrogant.

Or speciest.

Well, that last one was kind of bad considering that I wasn’t an elf.

That said, it might be worth the risk regardless because I had to admit that I was kind of screwed. There was nowhere for me to go unless I could manage to take out the king and his entourage all by myself. Which seemed like a long shot.

Before I could further make up my mind, movement from the double door leading to the throne room made me shrink back into the shadows of my room. A group of three goblins, carrying a, presumably empty, food basked was entering the grand chamber, on their merry way back to the kitchen.

They never made it.

With efficiency and speed that was hard to believe, the elves drew their swords and then approached, moving almost leisurely, the goblins from three sides. And the goblins never even saw them coming.

Until their heads fell off their shoulders, but by then it was too late, obviously.

But despite their efficiency, the elves made a crucial mistake - they ignored the door through which the goblins had entered the room. And there was a fourth goblin. And cloak of hiding or not, it was hard to miss three goblins suddenly losing their head.

The goblin, even tinier than usual, clearly the runt of the litter, made a whimpering noise and backed away from the grand chamber, before rushing headlong into the hallway, screaming in a high-pitched voice, almost like a child.

Immediately, the elves whirled around, and the one closest to the door moved with terrifying speed toward the little goblin to silence it.

But the damage was done.

From the direction of the throne room, a ferocious scream reverberated through the corridor, full of primal rage and fury. And then the air itself seemed to get heavy, like a thick blanket pressing down on me, and my body began to shake uncontrollably in panic. A fear that was powerful enough to freeze me on the spot, unable to make my legs move despite my desperation to escape.

I could feel warm piss dribbling down my leg and snot running from my nose.

But still, I could not move.

Which gave me the feeling of déjà vu from my years in the wheelchair.

I HATED feeling helpless, stuck without being able to move, waiting for help for everything and anything.

Never again.

Furious, I fought the pressure. I was not going to roll over and just give up, just stand there, shaking, waiting for the end. No, I had overcome terrible odds during these last days. I had recovered my body, and I was not going to yield to some mental mindfuckery.

And then, slowly, inch by inch, I clawed my way back into control.

It wasn’t a physical contest, but it was a battle nonetheless. A struggle against an invisible opponent, a presence that had casually blanketed a whole fucking room in a mental attack.

But I was going to resist.

After minutes, or perhaps just seconds, my mind slowly cleared up, like a fog receding from the power of the sun, and I was able to think coherently again. Slowly, I shook my head, trying to dispel the last remnants of the oppressive feeling, before wiping the snot from my nose.

“What the fucking hell was that?” I mumbled to myself, mostly because I needed to hear my own voice. Something to calm me down further. And it was not as if the heaviness in the air was completely gone. It was more that I was able to ignore it, just like… just like with the mushrooms.

I now realized the feeling had been similar. This pressure exerted on my mind. Only that with the mushrooms, it had been my own dreams and imaginations and not raw terror as in this case.

And, looking into the grand chamber, I could see that it had badly shaken the elves. One of them was cowering on the floor, while the others were staring wide-eyed at the hallway from where the scream had come, frozen in place, weapons dropped to the floor.

But I had to give them credit.

Only a few seconds after I had broken the effect of that mind attack, they shook off enough of its impact to start moving. And instead of running away, as I thought they would, they positioned themselves along the wall and behind a column next to the entrance area, preparing to ambush whoever, or whatever was going to come through.

Brave.

But also a bit foolish, in my opinion. Based on the raw power of that mind attack, and the volume of the roar, I suspected that I, for one, was out of my depth. At least in a straight-up encounter. Which, ambush or not, this was going to turn into, I thought.

And even though I empathized with the elves, and still felt dazzled by their beauty, pose, and, well, elvish awesomeness, I was not going to get myself slaughtered by rushing out there and trying to help. Not, at least, before I had any idea of what they were facing.