The Warden backhanded Desiree across the face. The roughened metal of his glaive cut open her cheek, and the force of the blow sent her flying. Before she could even touch the ground, the Warden lashed out with a long chain attached to his belt. The chain wrapped around her waist and yanked her back like a rag doll. He pulled her into a big bear hug, so tight that the snapping of her bones echoed through the chamber.

  By the time she fell limply to the floor, she was hardly breathing.

  Critical hit! Direct hit! Critical hit!

  Inara watched it all with growing fear and hatred. Hatred of the Warden, who was inflicting this pain. Hatred of Virgil, whose presence was making this a more difficult fight yet who refused to assist. Hatred of James for not being strong enough yet to defeat a monster like this on his own. Hatred of dungeons and of the System for forcing them into this, and for the Demon King who would rather see the world burn than prosper.

  There was so much wrong in the world and so little she could do to make it right. It was so unfair and so infuriating, and her little girl was not going to be the one to pay the price.

  Your turn!

  Blood Price, she thought. Blood Tithe.

  A ghostly scythe crossed the room and broke through the Warden’s armor. Blood sprayed out when the scythe emerged from the other end, and then the blade disappeared without a sound.

  Blood Tithe used ten percent of her health to deal an equal amount of true damage, bypassing all armor and resistances. Since the price of the spell was in blood, the mana cost was minimal.

  Blood Price, she repeated. Blood Tithe. Blood Price. Blood Tithe. Blood Price. Blood Tithe.

  One ghostly scythe after another sliced through the Warden. Each one cut down a sizeable chunk of his health, but with diminishing returns as her health pool diminished in turn.

  Rapid blood loss made her stumble. She raised her hand one more time, but before she could cast, her turn ended.

  That was it for her. Her health was down to 42 points, and though she’d be well enough to stand by the time her next turn came around, she wouldn’t survive a direct attack.

  She also wouldn’t survive another direct attack on Desiree. No amount of personal danger would be enough to stop her from saving her daughter from certain death — and another attack from the Warden would be certain death.

  She would have to rest easy, for now, knowing that she had done everything in her power to bring this bastard down.

  It was Desiree’s turn next. The girl dashed to the edge of the room, out of the Warden’s reach.

  For one hopeful moment, Inara thought her daughter was running to safety. That the girl would stop and eat an apple and replenish her health. For gods’ sake, if they ever made it out of this horrible room alive, the first thing she would do was make sure her daughter bought a healing spell.

  Desiree had no such plans, however. She hopped up onto a desk and clambered up a series of metal bars bolted into the wall like a diagonal ladder. She climbed with the light and fearless agility which only a child can possess.

  But wherever she was going, she did not make it. She paused, frozen like a spider-monkey on the wall.

  Inara was glad, at least, that she was out of the way. James would take the brunt of the next attack — or better yet, Virgil.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  James dove back into the fray with his axe. He was still struggling to wield it. He was too dependent on his magic spells; it was holding him back when it came to melee, and if he didn’t change his strategy soon, he wouldn’t last. Maybe the axe would be enough to convince him of that.

  At least he was able to swing the thing when he put his whole weight behind it. The blade dug deep into the Warden’s side. James was striking at the same place Inara’s ghostly scythe had done, and it may have been her imagination but the Warden’s armor did seem to be weakening.

  And there was something magical about that axe. Inara could sense a presence from it, but only when it touched the Warden’s skin. It was evil… but it was powerful too, and power was what they needed most of all.

  Still, it wasn’t enough to bring the giant down. Even with her efforts and his combined, the Warden had lost only a third of his health. Her stats were just too low for a boss like this. She was so crippled by her damned class.

  James was able to get two swings in, but it left him close to the Warden. He was likely going to get the same treatment Desiree had; with a higher constitution, however, he would certainly survive. It wouldn’t be so near a thing.

  That was the virtue of the Hero class. With so many stat points every turn, he essentially gained two classes for every one. Add it to the list of life’s unfairnesses that this stranger would be the one best equipped to save all their lives.

  Such was the cycle of Grimora.

  “Hellfire Bolt!” Virgil stepped away from the wall and sent a vicious black-red flame at the Warden.

  The concentrated fire made direct contact with the giant’s helmet, carved a line down the side of it and sent it flying off.

  “Hellfire Bolt!” The second shot landed squarely between his eyes and punched a hole through his skull.

  Singlehandedly, Virgil cut down a quarter of the Warden’s health. He quailed under the Warden’s gaze.

  Enemy turn!

  There was no question who the Warden would target. James, for now, was spared.

  The Warden lashed out with his chains. It looped around Virgil’s wrist and yanked him forward, so he slid on his belly across the floor. The rough stone was studded with small metal spikes, which tore open his thin rags and then his skin.

  Even Inara winced at the sight. The man was being flayed alive, and the Warden hadn’t even touched him yet.

  The Warden sneered into the man’s face. “A quick death is too great a kindness for a creature such as you.”

  Virgil was already bound by the chains wrapped around his waist, but the Warden was not yet finished with him. He tightened manacles around Virgil’s wrists and ankles and tossed him, trussed up, towards the back of the room. There was a clatter of metal instruments where he landed.

  The Warden faced the rest of the party once more, and at last his turn was over.

  Inara thought quickly. James would be the last to act, so Desiree was in no danger. She couldn’t afford to cast Blood Price again; her health was already so low that one more cast might be the end of her.

  She looked around for another rope on the wall and saw one not too far. Some bosses, she knew, were more effectively damaged by environmental attacks than by individual blows. So far, this appeared true for the Warden.

  She cut through another rope, and a giant axe went swinging down the center of the room. The placement was perfect. The head of the axe slammed directly into the center of the Warden’s chest, caving in his breast plate before coming to a halt.

  Desiree was next. She continued her climb up the side of the walls, and at last Inara could see what her daughter was reaching towards.

  Up in the rafters, tucked between racks of weapons, was an old chandelier. The wrought-iron contraption was made to hold three tiers of candles. Each tier was connected to the next by thick iron chains, which had long since rusted.

  Desiree climbed toward the release for the chandelier, which would send it tumbling to the floor — and if she aimed it right, directly onto the Warden himself, trapping him in his own materials.

  Desiree pulled the lever. The chandelier dropped. Chains rattled down the rafters in a flurry as the chandelier dragged them down, and then there was a great crash! when it landed atop the Warden.

  It wasn’t a perfect trap. There wasn’t anything fastening the chains around him, and he would surely be able to free himself, but it would slow him down long enough for them to whittle away his health.

  James took full advantage of the Warden’s incapacity. He was getting a better grip on the axe now, and he was able to aim its blade against the Warden’s damaged breastplate, damaging it further. The armor was beginning to crack, and he thought if he could get just one piece to fully break, they might be able to attack him normally.

  Virgil only whimpered against his chains.

  Inara sneered. Now that his wounds had faded, her sympathy had soured. The man had infernal magic. He’d been holding out on them before, and she had no doubt that he was holding out on them again. He knew, though, that if he attacked the Warden, he would be the target once again, and she could tell that first and foremost, the scholar was a coward.

  His turn passed in silence.

  Enemy turn!