“I am a passionate person,” William continued. “I have no doubt you can understand that, having spent some time around me—witnessed my high spirits in the brief period of our acquaintanceship thus far. So, yes. Yes, I am s-sor-ry.” The last word came out stuttered and broken up into more syllables than felt natural, as if William was dabbling in a foreign language that he was not fluent in and did not know quite how that one was pronounced.

  Adon wondered if William had ever needed to apologize even once before in his entire life. Somehow it was hard to imagine.

  “Well, I hope you enjoyed the food that Frederick brought,” William added, filling the very brief but uncomfortable silence that his last sentence had left. Adon skimmed William’s thoughts for a fraction of a second and gathered that William was trying to imply that Frederick had taken Adon the griffin meat at William’s direction—or at least with his blessing—but also that William had not noticed what Frederick was doing at the time. This was pure opportunism.

  In a way, Adon almost admired the way William shamelessly attempted to manipulate him. If the butterfly had not possessed incredibly strong Telepathy, it would have worked perfectly.

  We did enjoy the food, thank you, Adon replied. And I prefer for us not to hold grudges if possible. I know we both care about the Princess. Neither of us would want her to suffer any debilitating injury of any kind, for any reason. Certainly not when there is a dungeon to be quelled and an army of demons to be defeated.

  “Right, and with that, let us get into planning how we might tackle the next level,” said Frederick, clearly deliberately precluding any response by William to Adon’s provocative framing. Adon was quite deliberately using phrasing that poked at William’s effort to break Rosslyn’s arm in their sparring match earlier.

  But the young lord maintained a poker face. The only reaction Adon noticed, including emotionally, was that William narrowed his eyes slightly.

  What can we plan now? Adon asked. Has someone already scouted the next floor? Do we know anything?

  Someone went over to the entrance, Samson sent. He gestured with a limb. A knight. No one actually entered, because there’s no one who can sneak around as effectively as you, Adon. But at least this level didn’t have a waterfall blocking it from view.

  “We discovered that the next level is extremely hot,” William said. “It appears to contain some level of volcanic activity somehow, despite being located right below a level that featured flowing, occasionally flooding water. The heat might make it difficult even for you to casually fly around scouting.”

  The young lord waited a moment for Adon to contradict him, and the butterfly did not need mind-reading to recognize that William was distinctly pleased when Adon did not.

  There, at least, was something that the mystic butterfly truly could not safely do. Flying around when jets of lava were bursting everywhere.

  “Assuming that my assumption was correct, do not worry,” William continued, shrugging. “My brother and I can keep you and your fellow mystic beasts safe from the heat as long as you stick close to us. There are some other problems, though.”

  “Right,” said Frederick. “The discussion my brother and I actually want to have is whether or not to wait for Rosslyn’s recovery to enter the next level—or to press on and carry her along with us. Much as I hate to admit it, the loss of any one of us—” He gestured to include himself, William, and the arthropods—“is a serious blow to our fighting power. The knights are very strong, but rulers of nations and their descendants rise to the level they reach based on being at the pinnacle.” He smiled thinly at the arthropods. “The same applies to mystic beasts, I expect. This dungeon has been more dangerous than normal already. I believe that we only skated through the last level as lightly as we did because of Adon’s scouting and alliance-building. If we had simply entered the level through the waterfall and began descending the cliff, perhaps half of our party would have been severely wounded or killed. I am confident that the adventurers who were previously sent into this dungeon never cleared that level. They probably descended beyond the first level, took one look at the space beyond the waterfall, and fled. What the next level holds may be even more harrowing. Rosslyn being unconscious weakens us dramatically, and there are no second chances here. If we continue, and the risk of level three turns out to be too serious, we might have no choice but to either retreat here and wait for her to recover, or actually abandon the expedition altogether.”

  William simply nodded expressionlessly.

  Abandon the expedition? Adon sent, surprised. He sensed that he was the only one surprised, and he realized that the group had already been discussing this a bit before they invited him over—while he was helping the knights to cook their food.

  If the alternative is death, that is only reasonable, Goldie sent to Adon only, in a gentle rebuke. You are very attached to this country, and Samson and I are very attached to you, but William and Frederick come from another place. They cannot be expected to lay down their lives clearing a dungeon in a land that will certainly be conquered by the Empire if the Princess dies here anyway.

  Adon admitted to himself that her words made sense, but that perspective felt far too cold to him.

  This from the guy who came to the Kingdom to try and marry Rosslyn? he sent.

  Perhaps he has less confidence in his prospects now, for whatever reason, Goldie replied with a slight edge to her tone.

  Oh, Adon thought very quietly. Right. Probably my fault. At least in part…

  Still pretty cold, he sent meekly.

  “We can safely remain here as long as we do not have to worry about an imminent dungeon break,” William went on. “I imagine that the griffins suddenly pursuing us when they had apparently been allied means the dungeon is becoming more aggressive. It took control of them. Still, for all we know, monsters are controlled by the dungeon core much of the time. Very few people think of trying to befriend the creatures that reside in a dungeon. I think the core might not be very active yet, because it did not attempt to use the griffins against us until we were almost at the exit. Perhaps it was exhausted by its labors, erecting such a formidable dungeon so quickly.”

  I don’t think that is necessarily true, Adon sent. The way these dungeons work, I’m pretty certain that the dungeon core only rarely if ever exerts direct control over the monsters.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “How do you know that?” Frederick asked.

  So Adon felt forced to explain that in a previous incarnation, he had been a monster—and in passing, he acknowledged that he had access to many more lifetimes of experience and memories, though none of them were truly integrated into his identity as an individual except for his previous life as a human.

  I don’t think the dungeon core was necessarily doing anything in particular to influence the griffins, Adon sent. I sensed a sudden change to the way they thought, but it might have just been because they were designed to be territorial. The way monsters operate, they are hardly ever being directly controlled by the core. So this really doesn’t tell us anything reassuring.

  “So many lives,” Frederick said thoughtfully, clearly still preoccupied with Adon’s revelation.

  So, you are an old worm? William thought coldly but loudly.

  “An old soul,” the young lord pronounced aloud, smiling thinly.

  Not really, Adon transmitted, very forcefully ignoring the thought behind William’s words. I have access to memories that I can reference from many lives, but I’ve never experienced a truly long life that I am aware of. I tend to die early a lot. And my identity is anchored to my last life. That is the personality I still have, and that is the name I use. If I had the social skills and maturity of a man who had lived to be eighty, don’t you think I would use them? He sent a short, shallow laugh. In that life, I died at twenty-six years old. Not so different in age from you.

  William frowned at the butterfly comparing itself to him.

  “How did you die so young?” William asked.

  In the young lord’s mind, possibilities flung themselves forward: Dysentery? Some other peasant disease? Probably lived in a primitive time before healing magic was widespread, or he was too poor to access it.

  Adon was slightly taken aback by the question as well as the loud and intrusive train of thought that followed. His death in his previous life was still quite embarrassing to him, though he rarely thought about it. Dying by tripping on a soda can, because he was too heavy and clumsy to control his own fall, was almost as embarrassing as dying while performing some genuinely shameful act, like committing a crime or doing something weird in bed.

  He tried to formulate a quick response, but as he fumbled for an answer, Goldie spoke up first.

  Adon died heroically, she sent, lying brazenly. He was fighting for his country, and he took an arrow through the eye. It was the last thing he saw. His brother remembers it too. A terrible incident that separated them until they both reincarnated as mystic beasts—a reward from the Goddess for their heroism.

  Wow, Adon thought. He had never realized Goldie had those kinds of deception skills. Or perhaps she had never seen a need to apply them before. He could sense right now, whatever else might be going through the spider’s mind, that Goldie was not happy with William.

  After a beat, Samson spoke up.

  That’s right, he sent. It was horribly traumatic, but my brother was a hero. I kept his medal on my mantle until my dying day.

  Adon thought that was a bit overwrought, but he felt William actually buy into the idea—and why not? Adon had been genuinely brave and heroic in this life, in every situation William was aware of or had experienced with the mystic beast. Why shouldn’t he have been a hero in his last life too?

  Goldie opened up a telepathic channel that Adon could tell only ran between himself, her, and Samson.

  Adon, you are right about William, she sent. He is both rude and perhaps unworthy of the position he holds. Those things he thought about you were so loud that even I heard them, despite the fact that my Telepathy is weaker than yours. I am convinced that was intentional, meant for you. He is supposed to be here as a sort of diplomat. Talking about abandoning fighting in the dungeon is one thing. Insulting people is another…

  Wait, he was trying to taunt me? Adon replied, flabbergasted. Why?

  Many possible reasons, Samson sent. Maybe he wants to verify whether you’re reading his mind all the time, so he allowed a highly inflammatory thought to bubble up. If he provoked a reaction to what he thought rather than the words he said, that would be irrefutable evidence that you were eavesdropping. Then again, it might not even be a big deal in his head that you read people’s minds… I don’t know exactly how rare Telepathy is. He might just be trying to keep you off balance. Using the ability you have against you. There are social games at play, too. And it’s also possible that he just looks down on you. Maybe he’s not bothering to suppress his harsher thoughts, because he just doesn’t think it’s worth it. Hard to believe this wasn’t calculated somehow, though.

  “I am s-sorry for asking what must have been such a painful question,” William said. He bowed his head slightly and looked embarrassed, though Adon could again sense William’s real emotions. The butterfly knew it was an insincere apology.

  Forget about it, Adon sent. Anyway, I think that the best thing to do, despite the problems with this idea, is to let the knights get some rest tonight and then try exploring the next floor in the morning. If Rosslyn is awake, I’m sure that’s what she will want to do. If she isn’t, maybe I could scout the next floor. I know it’s very hot, but maybe it’s still doable.

  Everyone looked at Adon with skepticism as he proposed his plan.

  “That sounds very brave, but we do not want to send you on to your next reincarnation yet,” Frederick said lightly.

  William snorted but nodded his agreement. “You would be toasted within minutes.”

  We’ll see, Adon replied. Assuming that Rosslyn does not wake up by the morning, I’ll try going then. Until then, I’ll take a peek at what the next level looks like. After that, I’ll get some rest.

  He knew, but did not say, that exploring the next level would probably take a lot out of him. He would have to recharge all his resources to have the best chance at surviving the scouting mission.

  Good luck, Adon, Goldie sent. Let me know if there is anything that I can do to help.

  Same, bro, Samson added. Including if you want company.

  Goldie sent a one word telepathic warning in Samson’s direction in response: No.

  And the young lords echoed what Goldie had said before.

  “Good luck,” they both said.

  “Hopefully it does not come to you exploring on your own,” Frederick added.

  But Adon had already resolved himself. He was not worried about whether Rosslyn would wake up in time to lead them to the next level or not. She was stable. He could sense that even from several meters away. That was the only respect in which her condition worried him—that it might somehow get worse.

  The butterfly was already thinking about his plan for the next floor.

  As he fluttered over to the tunnel’s exit—the next level’s entrance—and peered out into the next level, he saw a cave, dimly lit from above and below by an orange glow.

  It looked just as nightmarish as the brothers had described it.

  Still, Adon could not help but be excited.