Freya sheathed her sword, walked toward the dead end until her hood’s silver-trimmed lip was a nail-length from the wall. Indigo light and mana was threading through a pinpoint hole which Sorath had missed. Freya stood there unmoving for a dozen of his shallow breaths, as though petrified, but a debuff icon that appeared by her party entry was not a stone silhouette; the icon a fancy numeric twenty. Nineteen. Eighteen…

With a lazy wave at hip level, Gwyn encased them in a feathery bundle of green mana. A buff icon by each party entry was a bluish-green footprint, the standard symbol that always meant fall damage reduction or immunity. Her arm looped around his for extra measure. Her mana was bubbling in excitement and a sprinkle of anxiety.

Sorath’s pulse drummed behind his eyes in sync with the countdown.

Three.

Two.

One.

The earth shook. Cracks webbed outward from the pinpoint light, then all around, rock crumbled like a dry sandcastle ruined by a naughty child’s foot. The ground gave way, chunks falling into an abyss, the manalamp’s green light just barely able to illuminate the bottom. A massive arena, three hundred strides in diameter.

Gwyn’s buff cancelled out impact forces as Sorath landed on a knee out of habit. A bad habit that instructors at Greenwood School had chastised during practice sessions with fall damage immunity.

Sorath adjusted his nose peg, looked around, saw no staircase or exit. They were trapped in here with this dungeon boss, this giant grayish-purple brain. Its slime-covered hemispheres were slightly larger than two young elephants floating side by side. Its stem was thick, and fat tentacles branched off like the roots of a tree. It had no eyes, but no one here was stupid enough to assume it was blind.

There were five obelisk-pillars similar to those for the Eldritch Eyes, except these were taller.

Freya whispered, “Lesser Eldritch Brain. If it’s immune to Sorath’s hexes, this may be annoying.” Her mana solidified into confidence. “Listen carefully…” She began explaining this boss fight, from the opening pull to the end of the third phase. Most attacks were avoidable, mechanics were simple enough, but the third phase was best done with at least four people; Freya would have to use her shielding ultimate then, and the timing had to be exact. All of that was on top of keeping all five pillars activated, each lasting for a minute due to Temporal Haste Aura.

Gwyn squeezed his fingers. “Would you like to sit this one out?”

“No.” He wasn’t very insulted. He stepped toward a ring of runes that marked the arena’s edge. His boot’s tip was a finger length from a rune as it lit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, let’s do it. You need my hexes, and I don’t think it’s immune. Its body is just like the Eldritch Eye’s.”

“I agree,” Freya said, sword and shield drawn. “Into position.”

Gwyn gave a mellow parting smile to Sorath before she put up her shrouded hood and took charge of three pillars to the left, leaving one for him, while Freya skirted around the arena’s edge to the far-side pillar. In tandem, they stepped into the arena. The ring of runes started glowing, flashing a countdown, and on the tenth flash, black and purple fire ignited on the runes, but these flames were cold. Cold both in temperature and feeling.

Sorath held out his hand close to the flames. A minor ache bit his fingers, the damage mitigated by Vetara’s Reach. His health bar took a point of damage, then another after a few seconds.

Ping.

Scarlett Freya signals for you to get ready.

Immediately, Gwyn’s mana rushed up the first pillar. Dull light shined onto the Brain’s slime membrane, casting long shadows across the arena. She ran rightward toward him, waited for eight of his counts, and activated the second pillar with a tap of her wand against an embedded crystal. Then onto the third pillar, another count of eight, before Sorath’s turn came, followed by Freya.

A red health bar appeared as the Eldritch Brain woke with a thrumming vibration in the air, tentacles unfurling, crevices in its hemispheres glowing purple. It slowly rotated toward Freya as she thrice banged her shield with her sword’s hilt. A tentacle whipped around, threw a mana spike, missed, and she responded by hurling a phantom shield, which was swatted aside. But the Brain was taunted, its mana vortexing in its body, infuriated.

Sorath cut a mid-air circle with Vetara’s Reckoning. Temprus. Time seemed to slow as he watched the hex dart fly. His grip tightened so much that his knuckles were white and shaking, and when the dart pierced a parrying tentacle, lukewarm relief undid every last knot in his body. And in Gwyn’s body.

The Brain, a tier nine dungeon boss, now moved in slow motion, like an uprooted mutant house plant. Confusion and fear pulled its mana into a tight ball. It was sentient. Intelligent. More intelligent than most beasts of the field, maybe more than certain humans.

Gwyn began pelting it with jade bolts, each chipping at the red bar, less than 0.1% per hit, bits of gelatinous flesh and blood splattering onto the ground.

The Brain, however, felt no pain. Over the course of five seconds, three of its longest tentacles straightened. First mechanic.

No chance in hell Sorath was going to wait. Brackia. He landed opposite to Freya. Hexus. With an overhead circular swing, he severed a tentacle, inflicted Frailty and Fragility.

A red square appeared over Freya’s head. And his head.

Loopy, refreshing mana streaked from behind. Gwyn was suddenly at his side. The red square hopped over to her head, then she was running in one direction while he was running in the other, Freya staying put.

Five of his steady heartbeats passed.

The squares detonated with acidic fallouts, the blast radius just as Freya had said, about thirty strides. Gwyn’s health bar took a massive hit, down to three-quarters for a fraction of a second, and Freya’s bar was down to nine-tenths, recovering. And he had managed to dodge with only five strides to spare. No way this mechanic could be safely done without Temporal Haste and Lethargy. Taking a blast like that without Frailty on the boss was instant death for him.

The Brain swiftly rotated three-sixty degrees as tentacles threw dozens of bolts one after another in random directions. These bolts were target-seeking, flying in slow motion.

Psycha-Cres! Sorath chopped diagonally. A wave of electric plasma overwhelmed incoming bolts and sliced into the Brain’s left hemisphere. Explosive gore rained down on the arena as the red bar shrank by 6%.

A pillar dimmed. Gwyn was already on it, still spamming jade bolts, around 0.5% per hit.

Again three tentacles straightened.

And Temporal Lethargy was about to lapse. He had to do it. Brackia. This time he landed on the side facing Freya, only ten strides from her. Hexus. He sliced off the very tip of a tentacle, enough to refresh Lethargy and Frailty at greater potency.

Above Freya’s head sat a red square.

Above his head as well. Panic shredded his internal organs. He sprinted toward Gwyn’s madly churning mana signature. She shouted something as his boot squished into brain matter. He slipped. The wall of purple and black flames rotated ninety degrees. A pillar was also dimming.

Then Gwyn was there, yanked him straight. The red square transferred, and she dashed toward that dimming pillar, reactivated it as the blasts went off. The forgettable stinging pain that she felt was nothing compared to the horrible, mind-shattering burn on his left leg and arm and ribs. The force of the blast sent him rolling across the arena, but he someway, maybe out of sheer willpower, was able to hold on to consciousness. He couldn’t feel his toes.

He couldn’t stand.

“Help,” he wheezed. “Gwyn.” He couldn’t sense her mana or anyone else’s mana.

A column of sparkling emerald light stamped down on him, full with comforting, loopy mana that stole away all his pain. Fresh minty air filled his lungs. His arm and leg were regrown, not just regrown; the memory of his burning agony was fading… gone. Even his leather jerkin and pants were repaired fully, although Vetera’s Reach was still severely damaged. He was renewed. More than renewed—a tree icon was shining by his health bar.

Nature’s Vigor (Ultimate): +75% Damage Dealt, -75% Damage received (59 minutes and 56 seconds remaining)

Gwyn had two ultimate skills. Unreal.

Ping!

Scarlett Freya orders you to fight!

As he sensed Gwyn’s mana rush toward to a dimming pillar, he picked up his sword and glanced at the damned Brain’s health bar. 82%. Two hexes were close to lapsing, Fragility already lapsed. “Brackia,” he spat. “Hexus.” He lopped off a tentacle as yet another red square marked Freya’s head.

This round, however, Gwyn was marked instead of him.

The Elves ran in opposite directions away from him while he delivered an unrestrained melee-range Psionic Slash straight to the Eldritch Brain’s exposed stem. Blood vaporized in the high-power lightning. Jelly flesh splattered his face, bitter and sour and charred to a crisp. A wide chunk of the red bar fell away, down to 63%. Phase change. He spat on the ground.

Fuzzing out of view, the Brain blinked to the center of the arena. From the bottom of the stem, three sustained purple mana beams, evenly spaced at 120 degrees, shot into the wall of flames, rotating at a marching pace. At the same time, tentacles were shooting an unending flurry of target-seeking bolts. Nine out of ten bolts swerved toward Freya.

Easy.

Running clockwise, Sorath parried three bolts against the flat of his blade. Psycha-Cres! A vertical uppercut released a line of plasma, slicing through four blocking tentacles. 47%.

A nearby pillar dimmed, and Freya pinged him. He doubled-back to touch its crystal, less than a stride from a mana beam. Brackia. He had to be utmost careful to avoid the beams’ pulsing intersection. At this close distance, Eldritch mana was a bottomless hole festering with hate and misery, and he was reveling in the darkness, fueled by it. He noticed his mana was limitless here. Hexus. Severing two tentacles, he refreshed Frailty and Fragility. Temprus. The hexing dart pierced the Brain’s right hemisphere.

45% health. 44%.

A single red square appeared above Freya’s head.

Sorath ran toward the arena’s edge, avoiding the blast by a safe distance, and spun on a foot into another vertical Psionic Slash. Blood splattered onto Freya as five cauterized tentacles fell to the ground. 30%. Phase change. Almost there! His heart was racing. He never felt this alive, this powerful. Right now he wielded power rivaled only by the gods.

The three mana beams dissipated.

North, south, east, west, adds spawned in a vomit-inducing display of goop flowing out of a point and growing into spherical masses. Eldritch Eyes, but these were far smaller. Each Eye focused a random party member, three on Sorath. Pupils shined white.

A red square marked him. And both Elves.

Ping.

Freya orders you to come to her!

He obeyed, backstabbing.

She invoked her ultimate, “Wrydia Impervous!”

Golden-white crystal mana domed over them, stronger than diamond, just in time to block mana beams, acidic blasts, and hundreds of target-seeking bolts. For a moment, the mess of the fallout blinded both Sorath’s eyes and telepathic sense.

A dimming pillar’s light went out, and all five Eldritch shimmered out of sight.

Gwyn was chanting. Flowering vines grew into an interlocking mesh on the ground, covering the entire arena. On the final syllable, every last mana petal shot toward the ceiling then fell back down in a razor-sharp hurricane, erasing the four Eyes, continuously shaving percentage points off the red bar. When the storm cleared, the Brain was just that—a brain. No stem. No tentacles. 17%.

Back to the arena's center, the Brain began pulsating harsh violet light. Final mechanic. Regrowth. They had exactly ten seconds, and the hexes had lapsed. 18%. 18.5%. 19%.

Sorath Backstabbed, nearly slipped again on blood and gunk. “Hexus,” he snarled, stabbing Vetara’s Reckoning into the mostly intact left hemisphere. The instant a broken bone icon glowed red, he unleashed a horizontal Psionic Slash with all his might, scoring a direct hit to its weakest points.

But it wasn’t enough. 6%.

Freya’s whirlwind of razor gold brought it down to 2%.

“Sora, luck potion!” Gwyn shouted.

His left hand fumbled in his pouch for the vial. He bit off the cork, swallowed the silvery liquid in one gulp. Telekinesis finished the job, sending Vetara’s Reckoning through the Brain’s core where mana was most concentrated.

0%. The red bar disappeared.

Sorath’s heart pounded once against his ribcage hard enough that his skull vibrated. He did it. They did it. Tier nine dungeon complete. Party of three.

The gods had been waiting to congratulate him.

Skill Advancement X6: Backstab (Intermediate 2)

Type: Active

Effect: Blink behind your target. Your next melee hit deals 12% more damage

Cost: 50 mana

Cooldown: 12 seconds

Intermediate Bonus: Backstab can hold 2 maximum charges

Skill Advancement X6: Frailty (Intermediate 5)

Type: Active, Hex

Effect: Shoot a slow-moving dart that inflicts Frailty. Target deals 30% less physical damage and 15% less magical damage.

Cost: 300 mana

Cooldown: 10 seconds

Intermediate Bonus: Targets deal 5% less damage, additively

Congratulations! You are now level 43!

You have gained 2 additional attribute points.

You have completed this Tier 9 Open-World Dungeon!

25% bonus loot awarded for first time completion!

25% bonus loot awarded for being in an undersized party!

Seeing all that writing was the best feeling in the world, better than slow-cooked chicken soup, better than a treasure room full of platinum and gold coins… although maybe not as good as four Legendary Loot Gems each the size of an overgrown watermelon. Two onyxes. One sapphire. And one ruby. Beautiful. More beautiful than Gwyn’s gleeful expression.

He pinched his ear. This couldn’t be real. Was this another dream? Four Legendary Gems. This was enough to pay off his debt many times over.

“I’ll have the ruby,” Freya said, stuffing it into her invisible pouch. “But, naturally, I don’t have a lucky potion. Sorath, you best hurry before yours wear off.”

Gwyn grabbed the sapphire. “Mine.”

For a second, he had imagined she would give it to him along with the other one safe in her pouch. Oh well. Now wasn’t the time to be greedy, not after being carried through three grueling, tedious dungeon floors. Though his abilities had helped significantly.

He cradled the smaller onyx as though it were a newborn, fed it half of his mana bar. Black light swallowed the manalamp’s measly glow. Weight reduced many fold. And once more his imagination failed him; this wasn’t a piece of Vetara’s set—because it was jewelry. An onyx amulet on a silver chain. Mixed feelings swirled his mana in both directions. Jewelry loot was always a gamble, sometimes useless, other times only useful for crafting, many times very mediocre.

“Unveil,” he mumbled, wishing for a godly enchantment.

The Chaotic One’s Mark

Around the right neck, this amulet holds unfathomable magic

Durability: 10000/10000

Greater Imperishability: Significantly increases this item’s durability. May also improve its defensive and offensive properties.

Set Effect (3 pieces): Unbridled Chaos

Okay.

Sorath equipped the amulet, but the item’s description did not change. His neck, apparently, was not the right one. Not even a stat boost. This had to be a crap joke. His first Legendary Gem had produced a god damn paper weight. And he had drank an Excellent-Quality Luck Potion. Unfair. Simply unfair. Shit.

Subtle fear was fizzling in the Elves’ mana.

“The Chaotic One,” Freya said, “is telling you that he is watching you. His exact intentions are never clear, but… you can take this as a sign that he at least isn’t displeased with you.”

Gwyn’s head bobbed with a forced smile. “Yep. Best to take it with a smile and move on. Don’t complain. You have one more Legendary Gem, Sora.”

“Fine.” He sighed and gingerly picked up the other onyx. Feeding all the mana he had, he whispered, “Please be something worth a billion gold.”

Inky black light filled the cavern to the ceiling. Volume and weight reduced to that of an orange. He held a polished glassy sphere, a shapeless mass of liquid black mana dancing inside, excited that he was holding it. Was this a…

No. It couldn’t be.

The girls were holding their breaths. Gwyn was standing on the balls of her feet, her hands clenched.

“Unveil,” he mouthed.

Legendary Dark Skill Gem

This, right here, was technically worth much less than the average Legendary Skill Gem at Cyesten’s markets due to the element, but for one Sorath Adanell, this was priceless. In his right hand he grasped the key to unmatched divine power—an ultimate skill choice.

“Unveil skill choice.”

Choice 1

[New Ultimate Active Skill] Avatar of Hex (Beginner 1)

Type: Ultimate, Active, Hex

Effect: Ancient magics of hexing imbues your body. Your hexes have 50% increased effect, are permanent until dispelled, and cannot be resisted. Hex darts fly 300% faster and are target-seeking. Hexed targets take 0.25% more damage for every hex. Lasts 30 seconds.

Cooldown: 2 Hours

Mana Cost: 3000

Choice 2

[New Ultimate Active Skill] Mass Hysteria (Beginner 1)

Type: Ultimate, Active, Hex, Psionic

Effect: Within a 25 stride radius of yourself, inflict Hysteria on all chosen targets. Targets are silenced while suffering hallucinations based on their greatest fears and most traumatic experiences. Hallucinations may harm targets, dealing up to 100% weapon damage as magical psionic.

Cooldown: 2 Hours

Mana Cost: 4500

Choice 3

[New Ultimate Active Skill] Psionic Storm (Beginner 1)

Type: Ultimate, Active, Psionic

Effect: Target an area within 100 strides of yourself. Within a 25 stride radius of target area, unleash destructive psionic energy manifested as lightning and gravitational warping, dealing 300% weapon damage per second for 10 seconds with intelligence multipliers, ending in a blast that deals 600% weapon damage.

Cooldown: 2 Hours

Mana Cost: 2000

He had nothing to say. This choice of skills was unlike anything he had ever been presented with. For the first time, all choices were equally attractive. Avatar of Hex was perfect for boss fights. Mass Hysteria and Psionic Storm had similar use, but the former was much more cruel, a much darker skill.

Gwyn nudged his hip. “So… What’s the choice?”

He showed them what he could see.

Gwyn hummed until she ran out of breath, nothing to say.

Freya said in an instructor’s voice, “I suggest you keep the Gem in your soul inventory and save the choice for when you need one of the skills. You can finalize the choice with it in your inventory, if you didn’t know.”

“I know,” he mumbled.

But was that the correct strategy here? With a two-hour cooldown, he could practice the skill several times a day. Ultimate skills ranked up at only a third the rate of normal skills, so every opportunity to train was also priceless. The more he skim-read the choice, the more he gravitated toward Avatar of Hex; with that, he could farm even higher tier dungeons. Yes, Choice 1 was a pretty good investment.

Gwyn said in a sweet, cutesy voice, “Sora, I strongly recommend you save the choice for when you need it. I promise you won’t regret it. Do it for me, okay?”

He met her golden eyes, smirking. “You don’t have to bat your eyelashes like that.”

“So you’ll save it.”

“For you, yes.” He patted her shoulder blade and dropped the Gem into his pouch. He exhaled. “Now, how do we get out of here?”

“We have to scale the wall,” Freya said.

Not the answer he wanted to hear. He had always been a terrible climber during school.