Someone softly knocked on the door. Isla groaned, pulling a pillow over her head. On the other hand, Cora continued to sleep blissfully, the tip of her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She looked so endearing and funny she made Rowan smile. That was a night to remember…

  The knocks repeated. Growlind and in a grumpy mood, Rowan opened the door of the tree hut for two inches. Outside, Hubert, the priest. Who else? Man, he’s a pest!

  “What do you want?” Rowan hissed.

  “We need to talk.” Despite addressing Rowan, the Paladin’s eyes tried to peek over Rowan’s shoulder. If Rowan had to compare the priest's gaze with something, it would have looked exactly like a nosy old lady's. Pushing the man back, Rowan stepped on the balcony and closed the door behind him.

  “Talk.”

  “I… apologize for doubting you. It’s just… I thought you didn't realize the limits of your power and got drunk with the idea of charity and saving people… It happens a lot to newbies.”

  Rowan rolled his eyes. “And you lost your sleep over that shit? C’mon, dude, relax! By the way, I apologize for giving you the Stare. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “It’s OK,” the priest shrugged off the excuse. "I was in the wrong to start with."

  “The thing is… please don't be offended… I’m not a religious guy. I think religion is BS. Not faith, that’s OK, just the protocol. You know: genuflect, genuflect, genuflect. When I can help, I help, that’s all. I lived on the streets as a kid, and—”

  “I know… Your father told me.”

  “He did, didn't he,” Rowan sneered. “Big mouth Papa Allinder…’

  “It must’ve been hard…”

  “It still is. One of the hardest things I ever did was to leave behind my friends. There were other kids there, you know… I couldn’t sleep some nights, thinking: I had a good dinner; do they have anything to eat? Is it raining where they sleep? I don’t know what happened to them… forgot their family names, their faces… Take this as the confession I owe you. I had a tough life and got lucky, and if I can make other people's lives easier, I’ll do it. Nevertheless, I intend to take care of my family first. That’s in the first place… You’re not crying on me, are you.”

  “N-no…” Hubert said, pretending to blow his nose.

  “Get yourself together, for goodness sake!” Rowan tried to pull the Paladin by the lapels but failed, as no lapels were on full metal armor. “And never, ever, wake me again in the early morning, or I kill you. I'm not joking. I know you can Rezz.”

  “Err… It’s not quite early anymore, and we must discuss plans with you over breakfast. There, in the longest longhouse,” Hubert pointed. “That’s why I woke you up.”

  Taking on the village view in the morning, Rowan noticed it was bristling with activities. Orcs and Ogres were doing push-ups and sparing, looking eager for battle, and the raid members—except his two wives and himself—checked their gear. Hubert turned and left the tree house terrace, taking precautions in stepping down the frail ladder, and Rowan followed.

  One hour later, their small army started marching. After an uneventful but boring hike through the cleared floors, they reached the sixth level of the dungeon, an uneven plain, a steppe going forever, with tall grass, groves, and rock formations here and there. After five more minutes of walking, they met their first monster: a giant metal golem, a robot with a machine gun instead of a left hand, and a mace as its right. The leaders' group took cover in the grass, debating.

  “How do we fight that?” Martha, one of the fighters brought by the Paladins, asked. Rowan was now able to remember most of their names.

  “RPGs?” another warrior said, producing a portable rocket launcher from his inventory.

  “Wait,” Fenrri said, slapping the man on the shoulder. “Give it to the little one; we’ll make a test.”

  A tiny goblin hopped forward, his eyes bulging in eagerness, stretching his hands up for the weapon. “I prove muhself to muhmma.”

  A little hesitant, the man handed the rocket launcher. The Goblin dashed through the tall grass, only a faint movement showing his trajectory. In no time, he arrived near the construct and shot the RPG at point blank, directly in the monster’s head. Despite the huge explosion and the smoke, the effect was minimal. The robot’s mace crushed the goblin dead the next second.

  “Noooo…. The child….” Hubert wailed, grabbing his head into his hands.

  Fenrri the Ogre disappeared and reappeared in the golem’s back. Her fists hit the robot’s ankle, smashing it, and then, as the construct fell, Fenrri climbed on its back and bashed the metal head into pieces. Fenrri must have some teleport skill, Rowan thought.

  Fenrri, army co-leader, has destroyed Gun Golem (Elite), level 80 (1/20)

  Meanwhile, the Paladin rushed forward, shoving the earth with his hands, until he found the small goblin’s body. “Please, live, please!” he wailed, pushing his hands on the tiny creature’s chest, applying his Rezz skill.

  “Is he mad?” Fenrri whispered to Rowan as he approached the scene.

  “Absolutely. Spare the spawn, or he’ll waste all his Rezz stack,” he susurrated back.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yes!” the priest bellowed, happy, as the little creature revived, gasping as he inhaled air.

  “That’s not a child,” Rowan tapped Hubert’s shoulder. “It’s a sort of a bipedal dog with some intelligence. They breed and train them. All lifeforms on their planet are Goblinoids.”

  “And this is supposed to make its life less important?” Hubert yelled.

  “Suit yourself, then. Just saying, for when you’ll have to choose between it and one of your friends. At least you two seem to get along,” Rowan pointed to the ecstatic resurrected Goblin, who was in the process of humping the Paladin’s leg.

  “Get away!” Hubert screamed, shaking his foot.

  “The next one is five hundred feet ahead,” Victoria appeared near them. “And the pattern keeps on, in a grid formation. I couldn’t find the portal to the next floor yet.”

  “Have you tried to pass through in The Space?”

  “The floors are not next to each other. You can't pass through if there's nothing on the other side.”

  "What do you mean, nothing?” Rowan frowned. “There must be something, right?"

  "The Void," Cora said. "A sixth dimension. It's said it gives to other universes with totally different laws."

  "I'll stick with nothing, thank you very much."

  "Rowan was never good at science," Papa Allinder jumped to say. "Like at all. I tried my best, but—"

  “I’ll go see if my rockets work on them,” Cora said, taking off. A minute later, a notification announced:

  Cora Shemeows, army co-leader, has destroyed Gun Golem (Elite), level 80 (2/20). No XP was awarded.

  “Yeah, works better than the RPG, but it took three hits; it’s too much,” she yelled as the army approached. “Trying the machine gun next.” Thirty seconds later, the next monster had been slain.

  Cora Shemeows, army co-leader, has destroyed Gun Golem (Elite), level 80 (3/20). No XP was awarded.

  “It was worse… I can’t sustain this level of ammunition consumption,” she complained when they joined her.

  “Do you have some reserves outside?” Rowan asked.

  “I have plenty of reserves just here, in my inventory; the problem is the perk that charges them with Mana. It’s a once-per-day process. I’m at ninety-five percent in rockets and ninety-three in bullets.”

  “Guys, they’re joining,” Papa Allinder said.

  “Like a super golem?” Rowan asked.

  “No, like an assault formation,” the elderly man explained, pointing in the distance, where a group of robots converged but still waiting for more constructs to arrive.

  In the vicinity, they had two options for an improvised redoubt. “Fenrri, grove or rocks?” Rowan asked. Like Grace, the Ogre was a Tactician, too, and her advice was valuable.

  “Rocks. Wood shrapnel is a killer,” Fenrri chose.

  “Understood. Troops, move! I, Bree, Isla, Papa, Snemc, and the Priest team will go behind them. Cora, destroy those still coming, then return to give us fire cover.”

  Rowan started running toward the left on a circular path. There were incoming notifications about Cora’s progress, but he ignored them. The Golems, fifteen or so, were now grouped together, with those on the flanks releasing bursts of fire in the air to keep Cora at bay.

  “Let’s attack before they reach the troops,” Hubert said.

  “Let’s not!” Rowan countered. “We let them engage the army and hit from behind while their attention is on our people. Now, please shut up. Whoever has a gun, if you see Hubert speaking again, shoot him and let him rezz.”

  “I’ll do it,” Martha volunteered.

  “Hey!” Hubert protested.

  “Not now, next time,” Rowan barely stopped the woman in time. “Shush… hide.”

  They plunged into the tall grass to make themselves less visible. The Golems passed them by, attracted by Cora’s sporadic fire and the rain of arrows from the Goblin Army. The robots started firing their machine guns a hundred yards from the rock formation. They also opened hatches in their torsos, revealing cannons.

  Stupid me… Gun Golems, duh… “Let’s go!” Rowan roared.

  Bree and Hubert run forward, the latter preparing his spells, and the Ranger imitating Fenrri’s example, grabbing a robot’s foot, throwing it down, and smashing the head with a war hammer. Papa Allinder started to throw ice bolts and fireballs, and Isla stepped forward, protecting him with a large riot shield, over which a blue light shined, similar to Hubert’s. At the same time, Snemc’s invoked a large area of healing and buffing, and Rowan felt its effect in every fiber of his body. The Shaman was good at his job.

  Letting his team work independently, he rushed to reach farther behind the enemy line, attacking the middle, using the Snowstorm. Although it failed to destroy the Golems in one go, it did a good job of freezing them in place.

  The only thing he hadn’t considered was the friendly fire coming just from a hundred yards in front of him. Just a second before Rowan was on the point of activating Joint Trip, Hubert arrived at the rescue, blocking the random projectiles with his energy shield. The Paladin’s mouth was tightly shut, lips tightened together. He was faulting Rowan's plan, evidently.

  Yeah, I should have thought about that. Then, it was over.

  Improvised Army has cleared the Shore’s dungeon’s Sixth Floor. No XP and no APs awarded.

  Rowan felt a little sad, if not for the levels, for the AP. On a whim, he pushed a point into Strength, then another into Dexterity, because he felt his fighting skills were underwhelming. Rowan wished to raise them to the third threshold but stopped, remembering Cora’s obsession with delaying investing APs. To compensate for the hunger of rushing to the next tier, he put a point into Constitution and Charisma to make all four stats fifty-five. He felt like an alcoholic trying to drink a beer to stop thinking about moonshine or somebody on a diet eating raw cabbage to stop yearning for French fries.

  “The guy is good,” Hubert said.

  “Who?”

  “The Shaman. He regenerated not only our health but also our shields.”

  “He’s a pro. You two should hang around. Both priests, both healers…”

  "I guess…" Hubert sighed.

  “Yeah… Maybe you’ll get off my back if you have someone else to talk to.”

  Snemc, the target of their commentary, had not tarried, rushing to heal the wounded in the main camp. Fortunately, there were no fatalities. In the distance, a big sign had appeared, floating in the air, signaling in big letters: To the Next Floor. They walked toward it and found the portal.

  “Wait!” Victoria blurted before anyone could pass on. “Let me go scout first.”

  She lit a smoke and vanished. Ten minutes later, she reappeared, her cigarette almost spent.

  “The next floors are aligned, so I could glimpse a few. We’ll have to pass an enclosed water tank, about a hundred feet in diameter. Swimming across is doable, but there are hundreds of piranhas. Then we have a floor with Sand Sharks combined with Golems and another deep water passage with water sharks. The tenth floor is a beach infested with zombies; we need range and fire. The eleventh floor is an empty town. There was no monster in sight. That’s all. I had to return before the smoke was gone.”

  “Give,” Rowan forwarded his hand. The Vampire gave him the cigarette, and Rowan inhaled the last bit of smoke. Trying not to exhale too soon, he passed through the portal, staying near his side. He unleashed his Snowstorm as soon as the effect of the cigarette vanished. In that small space, it killed the Piranhas instantly.

  You have cleared the Shore Dungeon’s Seventh Floor. No XP and no APs awarded.

  He pushed the water with his arms and feet, returning to the sixth floor. Passing through the portal felt strange, the water’s resistance still restraining his legs while his arms trashed in the air to keep his body’s balance. “Done. The exit is straight across. Maybe we can put a lifeline, a rope or something.”

  “And lifeguards. Snemc can stay half an hour underwater,” Fenrri said.

  “And I can stay indefinitely,” Cora added. “I hate swimming, but one must do what one must do. We’ll take care of it.”