Tirana woke up suddenly - almost violently - to a pungent, yet alluring smell. Her eyes opened weakly, her head banging like it was about to explode. Her bare arms felt the cold stone of the floor. Over her head was a stick of white material - Phoenix Salts - held by her companion. She looked up to see her rescuer, Sombor, taking a deep breath - his relief evident.

  She groaned, “W-what happened?” The mage knight desperately tried to recall what led to her incapacitation but her headache was too strong for coherent thoughts.

  “The floor guardian life-drained you,” responded the paladin. “But worry not, I took it down. You’ll have your loot when we get back.”

  Tirana stood up, hand on her head. “Thanks, boss. Time to push on?”

  “Oh no,” Sombor said, shaking his head. “That was your fifth KO. We should definitely go back. Remember the disclaimer?”

  *

  Going Dungeon Crawling? Don’t forget your Phoenix Salts! Revive your KO-ed party members back to consciousness in no time.

  DISCLAIMER: Only use Phoenix Salts when absolutely necessary. Phoenix Salts does NOT heal your wounds. Heavy use of Phoenix Salts may disguise serious injuries. After revival, go see a medicine man as soon as possible. Do NOT go further in your dungeon crawling. The Phoenix Salts Guilds Alliance (PSGA) and their merchants are NOT responsible for any deaths or serious injuries of adventurers on account of their abuse of Phoenix Salts.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  WARNING: Side effects include headache, loss of smell, and addiction.

  *

  Tirana frowned. “You mean the PSGA crap? I don’t read that, no one does.”

  “Well you should have, you dumb damsel!” he cried. “Phoenix Salts don’t heal your wound, they only wake you up.”

  “Now that you mention it,” she said, picking up her sword. “I seem to feel worse every time I wake up.”

  Sombor nodded. “Sounds about right. Anything else? What about your sense of smell?”

  Tirana narrowed her eyes. “What about it? I don’t remember smelling anything, other than the salts. Something about them really draws me in, so much so that…..” She stopped.

  “Well?” said Sombor, furrowing his brows. “Go on.”

  “But it sounds kind of weird.”

  “I understand, just go on.”

  “O-okay. So much so that I look forward to getting KO’ed so I can smell it again,” Tirana finally said.

  Sombor took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s time to fall back.” He took her hand, holding the teleporter crystal. “And I’m getting you to a medicine man.”

  Tirana frowned. “T-trust me, I’m fine.”

  “No, Rana!” responded Sombor, his tone sharp. “I don’t trust you, not when it comes to this.” As he said this, he wrapped his arm around her waist. “We’re going back, and that’s final!”

  “Yes, boss.” Tirana did not resist; if anything, she melted into Sombor’s embrace. Fully understanding how tightly held she was, her face was red as a tomato. “You always look out for me, Som—boss. Thank you.”

  Sombor looked away, his face a mix of happiness and discomfort. “Don’t mention it, Rana. After all we’ve been through, I admit I’ve grown a little fond of you. So I’d hate to lose your pretty face.”